#I AM DYING OVER THE COMMENTS THIS OLD MAN HAS

[mirgompillow]

Human Sun and Moon Chaos!!

I keep forgetting to post these old doodles, here you can see clearly who this old man is :)) It's not Kosperry's official design! Just having fun with his no-makeup look

He's still very very VERRYY ugly, he's so beautiful... 😭🥺

guys, I swear I will answer most of your questions!

[ladykailitha]

A Gentle Bloom

I don't know where this came from but I think I lost the plot a little bit at the end there. But enjoy.

~

Eddie walks into Family Video and immediately Steve smiles. He can't help but smile back. He comes up to the counter where Steve is filing returns.

"Hey there, big boy," Eddie teases, "did you know you smile every time I come in?"

Steve blushes and ducks his head, shaking. "I didn't."

"Sure do."

Steve chews on the bottom of his lip. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Nah..." Eddie says brightly. "It's a nice change of pace from what the rest of the town does."

Steve smiles even brighter. "Then I'll make sure to smile even more now when I see."

"You do that," Eddie says deeply serious and fond.

Steve busies himself with work while Eddie walks the aisles making commentary to see how long it takes for Steve to laugh. It never takes long, so tries to see how many times he can make him laugh instead.

Total? About seven before he accidentally makes a rude comment with some old bitch right around the corner and has to stop. Steve admonishes him in the moment but after she's gone, tells him he thought it was funny, too.

~

The warm smiles Eddie gets from Steve are enough to power him through even the worst days. It's like drinking a cup of hot chocolate all at once on a cold winter's day.

It's on a warm June day when everyone is over at Steve's for a party when the edge of the knife they've been balancing on finally tips over. Eddie works late so he arrives most of the way into dinner which was hot dogs and hamburgers grilled up on the back porch next to the pool.

There's this old swinging deck love seat nestled in the woods a little bit a way from the house. It's still on the property and Eddie stops there for a smoke before joining the party.

Wayne spots him. Because of course he does. He comes over and sits next to him on the swing.

"You do know that boy is sweet on you, right?" Wayne says jutting his chin at the man of the hour who is happily chatting with El and Lucas about something.

"Whatever you say, old man," Eddie says shaking his head and then taking another drag of his cigarette. It's not that he doesn't believe him. Not really. He's just too tired to think about it right now.

Wayne chuckles. "I'll show you."

"Show me what?" Eddie asks and then shakes his head again.

Wayne gets up and Eddie can hear the exchange.

"Hey, Steve," Wayne greets.

"Hey, you enjoying yourself?" Steve asks brightly.

"Sure am," he says warmly. "Eddie's here."

Instantly Steve perks up and looks around.

"He's just feeling a bit tired and not ready to join the party yet, if you wanted to say hi." He points the direction of the swing. "He's right there."

Steve looks over at him and smiles. "I know how that goes. Take as much food as you want." He pats Wayne on the arm and heads in toward Eddie.

Eddie can't help but smile at the boy as he comes over to sit down.

"Rough day at work?" Steve asks gently, putting his arm over the back of the swing.

Eddie just shakes his head. "Just long." He looks out at all the people having fun. "So what's the deal with the shindig? It seemed pretty important that everybody be here."

Steve blushes and pulls something out his back pocket and hunches over the piece of paper in his hands.

"What's that then?"

Steve straightens and clears his throat. "Would you help with my speech? I wrote some of it down so didn't forget stuff. Robin says it makes me sound like a dork, but because I am, it works. But I'm still not sure."

Eddie softens. "Sure, Stevie. Wha'cha got?"

"Thank you all for coming to--"

Eddie holds up his hand. "I'm gonna stop you there. This isn't a business meeting or telling people you're dying. Unless you are dying?"

Steve shakes his head and digs out a pen from his front pocket. He scratches out the first line. "I've always been the kind guy to rip off a bandaid instead of little by little, so you're wondering why you weren't told first, the only ones I've told are Robin..." he continues and sticks out his tongue as he writes and talks at the same time, "and Eddie because they help me write it..."

Eddie smiles at him. "I like that. Doesn't hurt anyone's feelings."

Steve looks up at him and gives him the biggest smile yet. Eddie melts a little bit more.

"So the truth is that I'm bisexual," Steve continues looking back down at the page and misses Eddie's stunned reaction. "It doesn't mean I have both male and female parts despite what it sounds like."

Eddie barely manages to stifle his giggle but as Steve grins too, he figures it's a deliberate joke and let's it slide.

"It means I like boys and girls," Steve says after a brief pause and a sigh. "It also doesn't mean that it changes my previous relationships in anyway. I'm not half gay and half straight. And while I recently figured it out, I've been this way for awhile. I didn't know that other people didn't have crushes on both actors and actresses. On pop princesses and rock gods."

"Yeah..." Eddie says drawing out the word, "that should have been a pretty clear indication you liking both, pretty boy."

Steve blushes and clears his throat. "And even though I've never kissed a boy or anything like that, doesn't mean it's only thet--throg--the--"

Eddie looks over his shoulder. "Theoretical," he says sounding it out for him. "It means you don't have the practice so it doesn't count. Or at least it does in this context."

Steve nods. "That's basically the end of it anyway. I just say I'm going to be dating guys and girls now and to not freak out when I do."

Eddie scoots closer to Steve on the swing. "Do you want it to be practical?"

"Huh?" he asks, that slightly vacant expression on his face that he gets when he's really confused.

So Eddie cups his face and kisses his lips gently.

"Oh."

"Would you like to have a boyfriend before going in there and reading your lovely little letter to all your friends?" Eddie breathed, still cupping his cheek.

"Yeah," Steve breathes and they kissing again.

~

Steve's nearing the end of the speech and Eddie is so close to giggling that Robin keeps glaring at him and mouthing the words, "I know what you are, Eddie Munson."

It's not helping keeping the giggles in, if he's honest.

"And I had this big paragraph with a lot of big words about how I never kissed a boy but that it didn't mean I didn't know if I really liked boys or not, but I don't need that anymore."

Max raised her hand. "Before you get all giddy about your boyfriend and steamroll over the bisexuality part, can we talk about that for a minute?"

Steve shoves the paper back in his pocket and says, "Shoot."

"You say it's not 50/50 but what does that mean exactly?" she asks.

"Oh, good question," he says proudly and she blushes. "So for me at least, it's mostly girls with some guys. But it can be anything from that one member of the same sex and then the rest is opposite sex and vice versa. And everything in between."

"How did you know you liked boys?" El asks, tilting her head in that way she does.

"The things I was feeling for girls," Steve explains, "the butterflies around certain boys, the blushing, the wanting to be around them all the time, or in the case of actors wanting to meet them not because I thought they were cool but because I wanted them to sweep me off my feet. Does that help?"

"But both?" Mike asks. "I don't understand. You say it feels the same so how did you not know?"

"Ah."

"Because liking your own gender is scary," Robin says from her perch behind Steve. "And so you might think it's something else. Jealousy, envy, or even just think you want to be them. It's same if you only gay, too."

They all look at her wide-eyed. "Oh, I guess this is my coming out party, too. Hi, I'm gay!"

Steve turns around a gives her a high five.

"If it'll help," Eddie says, "We can do a heads up seven up type deal. Only Steve will see, but if you feel attraction to girls, raise your hand, if you feel attraction to boys raise your hand and he figure what to say easier. Erica you don't have to participate if you don't want to."

She makes a face. "Boys are gross, but in a cootie way."

Steve nods.

"I'd feel more comfortable if it wasn't just Steve," Nancy says, arms folded across her chest.

"Robin or Eddie?" Steve asks, "because everyone knows what they are and won't judge."

They vote and it's Eddie, so Robin goes to sit with the rest of them so she take part too.

"Girls," Steve calls out and gets a head count. Five. And the ones he expected on that one.

"Boys," he calls out next. There are four, just not the four he was expecting. The surprise squirms a little as if they can feel Steve's gaze.

And one exception.

"Huh," he says. "That was certainly interesting. There is one who answered both and another that answered neither."

Dustin wrinkles his nose. "How can you not like either boys or girls?"

Joyce actually raised her hand. "I can answer that, I know I wasn't supposed to peek, but I kinda did," she winces bobbing her head back and forth. "Anyway. There are people who no matter who just aren't able to experience attraction that way. They don't what causes it, but they think it might just be like being gay."

"Can they still fall in love?" Will asks shyly. And Steve knows that Will knows who the exception was.

Joyce's expression softens. "Of course they can."

"Liking your own sex," Steve says, "is fine and good. And if you like both, that's fine too. But you get to chose your coming out when and to who. Just like I did. And if you need advice, you come to any of us privately."

Eddie and Steve share a look. They know the three who over the next couple weeks would be coming to Steve for advice. Will. El. Mike.

"So," Steve says clapping his hands together, "if there aren't any other questions. As of..." he looks at his watch, "twenty-seven minutes ago, Eddie and I are dating."

Eddie takes his hand and kisses it as the entire room explodes. Mostly in congratulations but some dismay. Like Mike.

But in the end they are all happy for them. Mike will come around.

He always does.

[allyricas]

there's just something so delicious about friends-to enemies-to lovers

barely teenage steve and eddie who have a devastating end to what they both thought would be a forever friendship. maybe it's a misunderstanding or maybe it's just teenage angst that felt impossible to fix in the moment.

but i am feral over the idea that the only reason steve ever became 'king steve' strutting around with tommy and carol with his aloof, semi-mean girl attitude was because of the falling out with eddie. that he did it so he didn't feel so much hurt over it. still has no idea what he did to make eddie suddenly hate him.

same with eddie. he definitely liked metal and nerdy shit all along, but maybe he only leaned into the whole 'forced conformity, it's what's killing the kids' freak persona to guard himself. as armor. because he fucking misses steve as much as he hates him. so he glares and makes snarky comments. finds his solace in DnD and his band.

they fight with words and shoulder shoves in the hallway. each of them too proud to ever talk it out and fix things. to the point that their peers don't remember that steve and eddie used to be inseparable. everyone but steve and eddie forget the obvious affection and closeness they once shared.

it takes a bunch of freshmen to put them back into each other's orbit.

it takes the upside down, a dead cheerleader and an evil wizard for them to actually get along again.

because steve is meant to hate eddie but the moment he sees the trailer and hears the word 'murder' he feels like he might throw up.

Please, god, not eddie.

only to find out he supposedly murdered chrissy cunningham. despite all the animosity between the two of them, steve knows in his soul that eddie would never kill anyone.

even when he's against a wall with sharp glass pressed to his neck, heart racing as he looks into the eyes he tries not to think about, steve knows that eddie won't actually hurt him.

steve has the urge to stay with eddie at the lake house and make sure nothing else happens to him. instead, he stops forcing himself to be an asshole towards eddie. it's exhausting and he's never truly meant it anyways. the upside-down shit is threatening the one person he hoped would never be a part of it.

it takes eddie watching steve get pulled under lover's lake and attacked by demon bats to realize that the biggest misunderstanding was of his own thirteen year old self's feelings. that he could've lost steve and he'd have never even told him the truth of why he let their friendship implode over such a ridiculous misunderstanding.

that he wanted more than friendship and that scared the hell out of him at thirteen.

he sees steve bleeding and throwing himself into danger over and over. realizes that yeah, steve harrington is a good guy. his own personal munson doctrine is fundamentally flawed and untrustworthy and he's in love with this stupidly brave man, maybe since forever.

make him pay means i'm sorry, i love you, please be safe, come back.

it takes eddie nearly dying and his steve carrying him out of hell for eddie to realize that steve never hated him either. that what eddie always views as aloofness and superiority was hurt and steve trying to deal. regardless of whatever lays in the past, steve holds him together with his hands and begs eddie to stay. whispers that he loves him, always has loved him, always will love him.

eddie thinks about all the years they lost due to teenage angst and fear. fights to keep his eyes open and stay, because steve his sobbing and begging him not to go.

and when eddie finally wakes up in the hospital, it's steve and uncle wayne next to him. steve won't leave his side, maybe ever again. neither of them with any desire to ever look at each other with anything but love.

[absurdthirst]

A Marriage of Convenience {Regency!Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 20.5k

Warnings: Dying parents, arranged marriages, mentions of dying in child birth, fear, anxiety, panic attacks, poor Pero has PTS, virgin reader, vaginal sex, oral sex (female receiving), conversations about birth control, mentions of spousal beatings, pregnancy, childbirth

Comments: When your dying father sends you to Spain to wed Don Tovar, you know nothing about the man besides that he is a widower with two small children who will never love you. Finding your place in his household will take a stiff spine and a loving heart, making peace with your marriage of convenience.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Father, you cannot send me away.” You shake your head, dread welling in your stomach and you press your hand to the silken material of your day dress, the stays of your corset the only thing keeping you upright at this moment. Not that your stays are as tight as most of the noble ladies that come and go on the marriage mart. You have no desire to be married, to be chattel to a noble man and birth his children. Even though your father has just informed you that the man you are to marry already has children. A widower who is not so choosy as to a new wife that he is willing to take on an old maid who is nearly set upon the shelf and discarded at every social function during the season. 

Pero Tovar is the name of the man you are to wed. Not only are you to be married off, but you will be shipped away from your home. Sent to Spain with no one that you know around you. Completely without allies and unable to easily go home if you are unhappy. Your father had met him in London and arranged your marriage before returning home to inform you. “Please.” You beg softly. “Do not make me marry a man I have never laid eyes on.” 

“You have no choice. I am dying, daughter. You heard the doctor. I have months left. I do not wish to leave you without stability. The time has come for you to marry. I cannot allow you to delay it anymore. Tovar is a wealthy man. He has a large estate and two children from his late wife. He doesn’t need some young maid to birth children for his heir. He is stern but he has very strong morals. You’ll be safe with him and that’s all that matters. Please do not argue with a dying man.” Your father begs and you choke, tears stinging in your eyes as you embrace him and he rubs your back, knowing these moments before you go to Spain will be the last you spend together.

The day has come for you to leave your father, and despite your best efforts, you weep. Over the course of the month, he had grown more frail and could not even accompany you to Spain to see you wed in person. Embracing him in his sickbed, you know word would come that he had passed, your cousin inheriting the home you had grown up in, and all the wealth your father had accumulated. Your dowry is carefully packed into a large trunk, generous enough that if it had been known, several in London would have made you their wife. Instead, you will be Lady Tovar. “I love you.” You murmur, wishing you could stay until he had left this earth. “I love you father, I am sorry I was not the boy you wished to carry your legacy forward.”

Your father tuts, “don’t be silly, child. You are my life. After your mother died…you are everything to me. My world. I love you. If you could have everything, I’d give it to you.” He promises and cups your cheek, his hand shaking. 

Your eyes sting with tears and you grip his hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I know.” You promise, reluctantly pulling back. 

“Go. Go live your life. Just promise me you’ll be happy.” He orders and you sniff, wiping your cheeks and you nod. It takes everything in you to leave his chambers but you do and you make your way down to the carriage to begin the start of a very long journey to Spain.

The trip to the ship takes nearly a week. A broken carriage wheel, a broken axle, and a thrown shoe from one of the horses. It seems as if the entire trip is cursed. You occupy yourself by writing letters and reading a few of the books you had packed into your reticule. Wondering if your father has passed already and praying that he has not. When you finally reach the ship, you sigh as you stare at the sails. Rather than just a short journey across the channel, it will be another week, sailing up the coast of Spain before you disembark. Your betrothed’s men should meet you there to carry you to his summer estate in the country.

When you step foot on land, you are relieved and exhausted, anxious and ready to be in your new home. Your husband to be doesn’t come to greet you, not that you expected that anyway but you are greeted by his secretary. “Señorita, I am Carlos. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Come this way, the carriage awaits us.” He says, gesturing to the horses behind him as the staff begins to gather your things to secure them for the final leg of your journey.

The carriage seems to be sturdy and soon you are pulling away. “Tell me about your lord.” You beg, having heard very little from your father beyond the rudimentary information. You want to know more about the man you are supposed to wed. “What is he like?” How a man treats his staff says a lot about him. That is what your father always told you.

Carlos looks at you, appraising you for a bit until he answers. “He is stern. Unforgiving but fair. He knows wrong from right and is only violent when the need occurs. He loved Maria, his first wife, but after she died, he has become a recluse. His children are cared for by the staff and he rarely interacts with them. If you want my honesty, señorita. The house needs life and love once again. It’s cold and lacking happiness.”

You bite your lip, repressing a small shiver. He sounds…..austere. Unyielding. You feel for the children who seem to have lost both their mother and father at the same time. “How old are the children?” You ask politely, aware that if he was not giving love and attention to his children, it would be your job. You remember how terribly you had missed your own mother, though your father had been your rock through grieving.

“They are five and seven. They do not remember their mother. Both too young. Luis - the youngest - was the child born when Maria lost her life. She doesn’t remember her mother. Alejandra, she - she doesn’t remember her either. They are - needing love and attention as all children do and their father - he is a busy man. That’s why he wanted a wife who was capable of nurturing his children when he is unable to.” Carlos explains and you glance out of the carriage as the Spanish port city turns to countryside.

“I see.” You wonder if the children are too painful a reminder of his late wife. If that was the reason he could not be around them. “And his holdings?” You ask. “He is a lord, is he busy with his lands?” 

Carlos nods and sighs. “My lord works long hours to make sure that the estates and the lands that are used by his people are properly maintained.” He tells you, making you feel a bit better about the situation. 

“Then I will make sure that he has a comfortable home and well behaved children to come home to.” You promise. 

Carlos nods, appreciating your compliance and he watches you as you look back out of the window. You are beautiful, have an air of maturity the other girls, the local ones, had lacked. His lord has been searching for a wife for a while, but no one has fit his criteria. He doesn’t want a simpering girl who wants romance, he needs a partner who can assist him with his home and his children. Carlos knows that Pero’s heart is cold, iced over after the death of Maria and he doesn’t know if anyone can melt it.

The good thing about you is that you know that love and romance are not expected, nor required in most marriages. You aren’t a starry eyed little girl who will wish that her husband falls desperately in love with her. From everything you are hearing, that would be quite impossible. You will settle for mutual respect. The rest of the journey is spent quietly thinking, making plans for your new home that could be tossed out the window the moment you arrive. You do not even know if your future husband will be there to greet you.

When you pull up outside of the summer home of Don Pero Tovar, it’s beautiful and instantly takes your breath away. It’s picturesque and grand but when you have a closer look, you can see the cracks, the work that needs to be done. The shutters are crooked and need new paint. The flowers are gone and the paint is peeling everywhere. “Oh. I- it’s beautiful but-” You start and Carlos finishes your statement, “it needs work. After Señora Maria died, Don Tovar just let the place go, too preoccupied to maintain it.”

You nod, understanding that he might not have had the heart to continue to look after the details that make his estate a home for his family. “Then I will hire workers to restore his home to its former glory.” You decide with a smile, eager to get to work and contribute.

Carlos hums as the carriage comes to a stop, “if he allows it. He - it’s - it’s almost like he is stuck in the past, never moving forward.” His eyes widen and he shakes his head, “please señorita, don’t - he mustn’t know I said that.” He murmurs and you nod, “it’s our secret.” The secretary exhales and reaches out to open the door to the carriage, stepping out and holding out his hand to assist you down.

There is no staff lined up to greet you. No betrothed waiting at the door to introduce you to his household. The pots next to the large double doors of the house are empty, filled with dirt and sticks. Providing an unwelcoming air and you try to think of it as some kind of omen. “Well, it is late.” You excuse, biting your lip as you look around.

Carlos looks guilty as he opens the door to guide you inside to find the housekeeper, Señora Garcia. “Come, let’s take you to your quarters and we shall start fresh in the morning, you have had a long journey and I’m sure you’d rather meet everyone after resting.” Carlos says and Señora Garcia nods, “also, your lady’s maid, Carmen, will be waiting in your room to help you prepare for tonight. We will bring dinner to your room.”

You tilt your head. “Prepare for tonight?” You ask, confused by what he means. “What is happening tonight?” Surely he does not mean that Lord or Don Tovar meant to wed you tonight after you’ve only just arrived? You have not even met the man, you had hoped to have a conversation before he becomes your husband. 

“The wedding.” Carlos says like you should’ve known. “Did no one inform you that Don Tovar wanted to be married as soon as you arrived?” You shake your head and Carlos sighs. “You are to be married tonight. Carmen will help you dress and we will bring your trunks up to your quarters. The wedding will be at eight. We will bring food to your room beforehand and a bath. You’ll be the lady of the house tonight.”

Closing your eyes, you try to suppress the tremble that races through you. Stiffening your spine and taking a breath before you open your eyes and nod. “I will be ready when Don Tovar says.” You agree, making Carlos nod in approval. “I would also like a cup of tea to be brought up, right away.” 

Carlos nods, “sí, señorita. I’ll make sure you get your tea.” He assures you and you sigh, following Señora Garcia up the stairs to your quarters. The house is dark and damp and there seems to be no sign of life anywhere. You immediately feel alone and cold, regretting leaving your home, your dying father for this pitiful estate.

****

By the time your tea arrives, it’s accompanied by your meal. Cold and unappetizing, you wonder why the cook would send you a plate such as this. Investigating your room, you find that it has not been properly aired out, dust still sitting on the window sills and the candle holders not refreshed with new candles. It seems as if you are to be un-welcomed or the staff who works here is completely unskilled in how to run a house. 

“Señorita, bienvenidos.” Carmen says as she walks in, “I am sorry I am late. I am your lady’s maid and I am here to assist you with getting you ready for your wedding to Don Tovar. Was your dinner acceptable, señorita?” She asks and notices your frown, “what is wrong?” She prompts, wanting to be there for the soon to be lady of the house.

“The meal was cold,” You explain, understanding that she is not to blame for that. “As was my tea.” You tilt your head and look at the lovely young woman. “Have you worked for the household for long?” You ask. “Is this how meals are normally delivered?” If it is some kind of custom, you would try to be more understanding, but you don’t think that it is. 

Carmen shakes her head, “absolutely not. I- you shouldn’t have had a cold meal and cold tea. Please, señorita, let me get you a new, hot -” 

You interrupt her, “no. It’s not - I’ve eaten it now and I do not have time to waste. I need to bathe and get ready for my future husband.” You inform her and she nods, “I will go fetch the hot water and we will get you ready.” She promises and rushes off.

You are grateful that your trunks have been delivered, your dress you had made clean, if slightly wrinkled from being packed. Airing it out, you had hoped you would wear this while marrying a man that you had met before, but it seems unlikely to happen now. You had not even heard any movement in the large house. 

Carmen works diligently to clean you up, washing your back and making sure the dirt from the journey has been washed off prior to your wedding. Once you’re dry, she works on styling your hair and soon enough, it’s time for her to help you into your dress. “What’s he like?” You ask her as she buttons your dress and Carmen bites her lip. “He’s…direct but fair.”

“That seems to be what everyone says about him.” You hum. “Is he a handsome man?” Carmen glances at you nervously. “He- some think him handsome. But-“ she glances around your empty bedroom and lowers her voice. “He has a - a scar. Over his left eye.”

You inhale sharply, wondering how a man like Tovar got a scar over his eye. You’re worried now, scared that he is going to be a rough man. “He’s a good Don, fair and harsh but I think you will be good to have in this house. We need light, we need love. It’s been missing for far too long.”

It doesn’t take much longer for Carmen to declare that you look perfect. Your nerves flutter in your stomach and you press your hand to it in a meager effort to calm them. “Then perhaps you can show me a little of the estate while we walk to the chapel?” You assume that there is a chapel on the grounds that you will be married in. Giving your maid a weak smile, you try to hide the fear. 

Carmen nods, “of course, señorita. Come, let us go now. Your intended will be waiting.” She says and you exhale shakily, trying to gather yourself to get married to a man you’ve never met before.

The estate is beautiful, the ground neglected like the house, although you can tell someone had once cared for them a great deal. You wonder if that was your soon to be husband's late wife. It doesn’t take long for you to see the stone chapel, overgrown and yet the soft candlelight coming from the windows gives it an enchanting glow. You take a deep breath and glance at the maid for some reassurances. 

Carmen squeezes your arm and winks at you, “everything will be fine.” She promises but you both know she has no way to assure that. You stand in the entrance of the chapel when the violin starts to play and you swallow harshly when Carmen gestures it’s time for you to go. You exhale shakily and step foot into the main hall of the chapel. 

**** 

When you step into the chapel, Pero keeps his back turned. Your father had shown him your miniature so he knows you are a beautiful woman. Not that it makes a difference. He has far exceeded the socially acceptable grieving period for Maria and now he’s expected to get a wife. He needs a mother for his children and a woman to maintain his estate. The music plays as you walk down the aisle and when you approach him, he turns around and inhales sharply when he sees your face. You’re gorgeous. A woman most men would kill to wed but he doesn’t care about looks, he cares about you filling the position that has remained empty in his home. He wonders if you like the look of him.

Your steps forward stumble briefly, but you recover. Catching your breath and smiling softly, you find him to be most handsome in a visceral, viral way. Rough and not exactly tamed, although many would say that you were possessed to think that way. HIs eyes are dark and watching you, making your skin heat and you wonder if your future husband approves of you. Stepping closer to him, you stop directly in front of him and take another breath. “Don Tovar.” You murmur, curtsying prettily. 

You curtsy so perfectly, it’s almost enough to make him smile but he doesn’t. He hasn’t since Maria died. His life is now black and white, his love taking all of the color in the world with her when she died during childbirth. “Señorita.” He greets you and takes your hands, turning towards the priest who was called to marry you. Pero’s secretary and Carmen are to bear witness to the marriage and Pero is glad there’s no audience to see him remarry a woman he doesn’t even know.

The priest recites the vows in Spanish and you follow along closely. Listening as he proclaims that marriage is a sacred duty to your husband and you can barely look at your intended. Sneaking a glance and trying not to fidget. “I do.” You murmur quietly when you are asked if you take the Don as your husband. Your eyes meet his and you bite your lip, wondering if he is unhappy. He is frowning, he must be unhappy with his decision to marry you. 

Pero remembers his wedding day to Maria. How excited he was. Young and eager before the days of war to marry the woman he loved. He was ready to have a future with her and it was ripped away from him on one fateful winter day. Tovar recites his vows and when the priest declares you husband and wife, he leans in to kiss your cheek. “Welcome, mi esposa.” He whispers once you are married.

A kiss on the cheek was not what you expected, turning to find his lips when he pulls away leaves you flustered. “Gracias, husband.” You murmur quietly. His secretary and your maid clap quietly and you turn back to them with a smile, thanking them for witnessing your vows.

Pero takes your hand to guide you out of the chapel and to the carriage awaiting to take you back to the main home. Pero doesn’t say a word as you are carted back and when you arrive, the housekeeper takes your hand to assist you inside. “There’s no need to arrange our bed chamber. My bride will be spending the night in her own room.” Tovar reveals with a grunt.

“Yes, Don Tovar.” Carmen nods and you are left feeling rejected even if you had been nervous about the wedding night. It is silly to think of, but you hope it’s because he wishes to get to know you before you become intimate. 

“Then I wish you a good night, husband.” You nod politely to him and wait for him to speak.

Pero turns to look at you, reaching for your hand and he bends down to kiss the back of it but it’s cold and emotionless. “Buenas noches, señora Tovar. I will see you tomorrow so we can discuss your duties. Carmen, escort her to her room. Garcia, vamos. We have much to discuss.” Tovar says to his secretary who nods and steps beside him as he strides over without a glance back towards you.

“I see what you mean.” You murmur to your lady’s maid as she starts to guide you back up the stairs. “He is devoid of much emotion, although at least he is polite.” It is better than some men that you had met. “Is there a library in the house?” You ask curiously. “I fear that I had brought many of my own books when packing my trunks.” 

“There is a library, señora. It- it needs organizing. It has been neglected for many years but the children do study there during the day. It needs a refresh. Perhaps you may ask Don Tovar if he will provide you with the tools to refresh the room where the children learn.” She says and you hum, letting her escort you back to your chambers. 

**** 

“She is beautiful, no?” Carlos asks his employer who grunts as he sits down in the chair, working on removing his shoes and his wedding attire, wanting to be comfortable. “She is but you know I don’t care for beauty. I need a woman to run the house. To show those fools in society that I have fulfilled their requirements. I don’t need her company, I just need her presence. Her father was desperate to marry her off before his death and her dowry was enough to keep her without spending my coin. She’s suitable for the role and I’m hoping the children will attach to her.” Pero says and Carlos nods, “we shall see.”

You wake up shrieking as a pitcher of cold water is tossed on your face while you lay in your bed. Bolting upright, you flail your arms, hearing giggling as you try to blink and see what or who is attacking you. Finding two children grinning at you in defiance as the oldest holds the empty pitcher in his hands. It is still dark outside, at least you think it is, for the curtains are still drawn over the large windows. Pero’s children. Your husband’s children have woken you up by throwing water on your face. You leap from the bed right as you hear the pounding of footsteps and the door to your room bursts open. 

“Alejandra! Luis! Mierda!” Pero growls as he storms into the room to find his children standing there with their hands behind their backs. “What is wrong with you?” He growls, turning to face you when he sees you are soaking wet, his eyes dipping down to the white gown you’re wearing, now see through and he swallows harshly at the sight of your nipples. Carmen rushes in and he turns towards her. “Gather water for a bath to warm her up and get her a robe.” Pero demands and turns back to his children. “I was walking past when I heard the commotion. You cannot do that. Why would you do that?” Pero hisses at his children who stare at him defiantly. 

“We thought it would be funny.” Alejandra answers and Pero inhales deeply. 

“That is not acceptable. You will miss breakfast and today, you’ll be writing lines - saying you will not abuse your new mother.” He says lowly and Luis shakes his head, “she isn’t our mama. We don’t want her. We want our real mama.” Luis stomps his foot and Pero pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Go to your rooms before I get the belt.” He threatens, knowing he wouldn’t actually hit them but every day they test him and push him closer to physical punishment. 

“Papa-” Alejandra chokes and Pero hisses, “do not test me girl. Now get out of my sight.” He hisses and the children rush out of your room.

“I am sorry.” You murmur quietly, covering your arms over your chest and shivering in the cold. It is chilly in the room since there is not a fire laid in the grate and you wish that you did not feel so exposed with his eyes on you. “I- I do not know what happened.” you shake your head. “I was sleeping and then - I just - they do not wish for a new mother?” You had expected that the children were accepting of your new husband marrying again, but it is apparent they do not want you here. That will make things more difficult for you if you expect to forge any kind of bond with them. 

“They are loyal to their mother.” He answers curtly, wanting to add that he is too but he feels that would be too insensitive. “They will come around. They have been troublesome and I am hoping a female presence will help them adjust.” He says and Carmen rushes over with your robe to help you cover up.

“Thank you.” You wrap the robe around you and find that your husband does not seem to care for you being here any more than his children and you swallow harshly, feeling incredibly alone. “I see.” You nod and decide that you might as well broach the subject since he is here. “Then I have permission to discipline the children?” You ask him. “If they are to respect me, then they need to see me as an authority figure as well as a motherly one.” 

“Yes, but I do not physically punish them. You are welcome to discipline them as you see fit. I have struggled to control them. They do not seem to want to be around me and I - I must admit I am a little hopeless about how to handle them.” He confesses, “if you can control them, you’ll have my admiration.”

You nod, thankful that he will allow you to curtail his children’s rambunctiousness. “I also wish to reorganize the library and freshen up the house to make things more homey.” You add. You do not tell him that his home is desperately in need of repair, but that would be something that you would be able to tackle with a good scrubbing and a good airing out. “Would that be acceptable to you?” 

Pero nods, unable to argue with you when you are doing exactly what he wants to be done. He needs his home to be returned to its former glory and his children to be nurtured and loved in ways he has failed. “Very well, señora. I will let you prepare for the day. Breakfast will be brought to you and you are permitted to explore the house as you see fit. It is your home now.”

“Thank you.” You murmur quietly, wondering if you would ever have a meal with the man you call your husband. “However I will order dinner to be served in the dining room this evening.” It will be the first time you will have imposed your will and you wonder if he will dismiss your wishes. “Perhaps the children can join us?”

Tovar nods, “very well.” He doubts he will eat dinner with you. That implies that you are having some kind of relationship and that isn’t what this is. You’re here to fill a position like if he were to hire a new housekeeper. Pero stares at you for a moment before he steps back and makes his way down the hall to his office.

You blow out a breath, happy and yet slightly discontent with his answers and you feel like he has no intention of trying to get closer to you. It’s like he does not actually want you here, but needs you. “Well, good morning to you as well.” You huff sarcastically under your breath.

Pero continues on with his day, attending to the finances due at the end of the month for the tenant rents and salaries for the staff, signing off on the accounts for the food and necessities. It’s a laborious job but Carlos can only do so much. Your presence here will alleviate the household requirements from him but the estate needs maintenance. The day gets away from him and he is soon preparing for lunch.

You sigh, exhausted and wipe your brow as you collapse into a dusty couch and look around the room. The library will be days in the making to turn into a lovely place to read and teach the children. Who have been watching you warily and not paying attention to their tasks. They are seated at a table, their books open, but neither one of them has completed an assignment. “How do you like the gardens?” You ask, looking over at them. “Is it lovely to have picnics there for lunch?”

Alejandra glances at her brother before she answers you, “we don’t have picnics in the garden. Papa doesn’t really like for us to go outside.” She tells you and Luis nods his agreement, making you frown. “He says it’s dangerous to go outside in the gardens.”

You purse your lips, not remembering any kind of warning about staying out of the gardens. “Perhaps your papa means that it would be dangerous for you to go out there by yourselves?” you offer, standing up and wiping your hands on your apron that you had covered your day dress with. “Why don’t we see about having the cook make up some picnic food and we can take lunch out there? Explore and take in the fresh air.” It was obvious the children were bored and isolated, running around in the gardens would be good for you and them. Perhaps it would even help them like you.

Alejandra is cautious as she watches you, placing her pencil down so she can look at you properly. Luis tugs on her sleeve, shaking his head, and she pushes him off. “The garden, Luis.” She says pointedly and the little boy giggles, making you tilt your head. “What’s so funny?” You ask and Luis shakes his head. “Nothing.” Alejandra answers, “a picnic would be lovely.”

You frown but nod. “Alright. Put your books away and we will venture into the kitchen.” You smile. “Perhaps the cook has made cookies for us to have.” You shouldn’t bribe the children with sweets but you want to break through their prickly exteriors. They are still young and it has been a long time since their mother has been lost to them. “How does that sound?”

Luis nods, cautious but easily swayed by cookies. Alejandra is more reserved, offering you a look as she closes her book and you smile at her, trying to disarm her cautious nature. The children soon have their books stored away and they rush towards the kitchen, calling out for the cook who has become a mother figure for them. Señora Lola. “¡Ay niños!” She exclaims as they practically slide into the kitchen.

You can’t help but smile as the children greet the cook with obvious affection and your complaints about your first dinner being cold are forgotten for the moment. They hug the cook excitedly and both begin talking at once, turning and pointing to you. When the older woman looks up at you, you nod your head politely. “The children and I would like to have a picnic luncheon in the gardens.” You explain in Spanish. “Would we be able to put together a suitable fare for this?”

Lola nods, “of course, señora. I can prepare a basket for you and the children.” She assures you, “would you like a cup of tea while I prepare lunch?” She asks and you nod, moving to sit down at the kitchen table while the children tell Lola about their lessons. You can sense that she’s like a mother figure to the young ones and you’re glad they have had someone since their mother passed. Lola works fast to get you a cup of tea and the children a glass of milk while they wait.

“Thank you.” You watch as she moves about the kitchen, finding her to be quick and decisive as she gathers her ingredients. This is not a woman who is sloppy or resentful it seems. It makes you wonder why the food was so horrible the day before. When the kids are busy drinking their milk, you smile. “Tell me about yourself, Señora Lola. It is obvious you have been with the Don’s household for many years.”

Lola smiles, “my mother was the cook before she retired. My father was the Tovar’s butler and they fell in love and had me. Mi mamá taught me everything I know and we have been in the Tovar household for three generations. My son is a gardener. My husband is the groundskeeper. Maria - bless her soul - was the heart of the home. She lit up every room she was in.” Lola sighs and glances at the children.

“I understand that I am new.” You venture softly. “And I cannot replace Señora Tovar, but I would like to bring some comfort and happiness to her family.” You know that you can’t just force these people to accept you. Not when they had lived for so long with the ghost of the woman who had left them broken. You bite your lip. “Will you help me do that, Señora Lola?” 

Lola nods, “if you can bring hope and light back to this home, you will forever have my admiration and gratefulness, señora. You are Señora Tovar now.” Lola tells you and you bite your lip as she prepares the lunch.

Once the lunch is packed away in a basket along with a large bottle of lemonade, you have Carmen bring you a quilt to spread on the grass to sit on. Guiding the children out of the large, glass doors into the garden, you smile at the bright sun and fresh air. The weather is beautiful and you can see yourself bringing the children out here often. “Where would you like to sit?” You ask, looking around the neat but barren gardens. It’s obvious Lola’s husband keeps them up but there has not been any new flowers or plants added for some time. 

The children point to a spot near the pond and you allow them to guide you towards it. Carmen spreads out the blanket and you settle down with the children. Pero is standing up to stretch when he sees you and the children on the lawn. He tilts his head and wonders how you managed to get them to sit down for more than five minutes. Maybe he did make the right decision.

Eating outside seems to have been a magical treat for the kids. They ate politely and minded their manners after the promise of running around after they finished was made. You can tell they enjoyed it and by the time you had to pack up to go back to the house to finish their lessons they were sleepy. Making you smile at the way they leaned against one another.

**** 

“Señora, is this the color you prefer for the drapes?” Carmen asks you as you appraise the different materials and pattern samples. It’s been a month since you’ve been in Pero’s home and you have been slowly working on bringing the home back to its former glory. The children have grown closer to you, wanting their meals in your company, yet still no sign of your husband.

Pero walks down the hall, the portraits of his ancestors lining the walls and he notices the change of the decor. Everything seems dusted and shiny, and the rugs are pristine. It’s fresher and brighter. He knows it’s your doing and that makes him smile, assured he made the right decision to marry you.

“I think it will look lovely in the breakfast dining room, don’t you?” You ask, finding Carmen to be a wealth of information and a good judge of character and design. As the two of you had grown closer the more time you spent going through the house room by room. Even the kids were helping when it was time to scrub walls and beat rugs out in the garden. You had turned it into a game where you covered their eyes and spun them around before they whacked the rugs with a broom. They had giggled and fallen down, but it was worth the extra time it had taken to freshen the rugs. “Perhaps, even if he does not dine with me, Don Tovar might enjoy reading his paper and drinking his tea in a bright and cheerful room.”

“Papa! Papa!” Alejandra rushes up to her father who is shocked at her cheerful greeting. 

“Sí, mi tresoro.” He answers and she grins, “we are going into town today.” She declares and Pero frowns, not liking the idea. 

“Whose idea is this?” He asks lowly and Alejandra says your name. Pero sighs and tells his daughter to lead him to you. She takes his hand and guides him to the kitchen where you are sitting with Lola. “Hola.” He greets his cook who smiles at him and says “hola señor.” His dark eyes turn to you, “Alejandra tells me you are taking the children into town today?”

“I am.” You nod as you set down the book you are making notes in. Carmen hustles to put the fabrics away and you send your husband a small smile. “The children need new shoes and I have several merchants that I wish to visit.” You glance at Alejandra with a proud look. “The children have assured me that they will be well behaved, and they are excited to spend their own pin money.”

Pero frowns, “I do not like them going into town. I do not want you going into town. It is dangerous.” He says, remembering when Maria went into town while with child and was knocked over. She went into labor early with Luis and that’s the night that she died. His hands shake a little and he shakes his head, “you are not going. I forbid it.”

Your brow arches and you look towards Carmen and Lola. Both women quickly bow and disappear. “Alejandra,” you urge his daughter. ��Go and find your brother.” You urge her as you stand up and brush your dress down. If you are going to disagree with your husband, you are not going to do it in front of the staff or his children.

Pero meets your defiant gaze and he clears his throat, “I will not allow you to go into town. It’s dangerous. If you need something, you can tell the staff and they will go and get it.” He compromises and you glance around to make sure no one is around.

“Don Tovar, I appreciate your concern for my well-being but I am not a child and I will not be held hostage on your estate.” You declare. “I will take a footman and a driver with me, and exercise all caution. But I am going to town. Now….is there anything you wish for me to get while we are there?”

Pero clenches his jaw, remembering that moment Maria was carried into the house, her screams still echo through the halls of his mind. “No. I forbid it. You won’t be leaving this estate. That’s an order.” He growls, reaching for your wrist to grip it, his hand shaking as he remembers the night Maria died.

You wince when he grabs your wrist, squeezing it hard enough that your breath catches in pain. You wrench your wrist away from him, yanking your arm down and stepping back, your eyes wide with both fear and anger. "I am your wife. Not your servant." You manage to keep the fear from making your voice tremble.

“You can’t go. I - I can’t - Maria - she- please. You cannot go.” He shakes his head, his chest starting to heave and he hates how anxious he’s become at the thought of losing more from his life. He has barely spent a moment with you since the wedding but the idea of his children losing another woman from their lives makes his chest tighten.

Fear turns to worry, making you step forward and reaching for his arm. “Pero?” You do not use his Christian name often, but you use it now. “What is wrong? Take a breath.” You urge him, frowning at the way that your husband has turned from cold and demanding to panicked. “Talk to me.”

He pants, unable to calm himself down, and he clings to you, pulling you close and he can’t control his thumping heart, remembering the night he lost Maria, the night he lost the light of his life. He closes his eyes, trying to control himself but he’s failing.

You nearly stumble, but you don’t resist him. Holding onto your husband’s waist while he trembles. He’s obviously horrified by the idea and you can’t understand why but you don’t want to make him do this. “Alright, alright, I will not go into town.” You give in, hating that you are but perhaps you can talk to him and come to agreement later on when he has calmed down.

Pero inhales deeply, remembering what his doctor told him to do, and he tries to calm himself down, grounding himself with your touch. He takes several moments before he opens his eyes, his gaze meeting yours. “I- I’m sorry, esposa.” He murmurs, his hands still gripping you.

"It is alright." You murmur soothingly, wanting nothing more than to make him feel comfortable around you. You are supposed to be here to help him, and it seems like he needs help with this. "I am here, I am right here." You assure him with a smile.

When you smile at him, he jerks back and lowers his hands, the shield back up as he gathers himself and clears his throat. “I, uh, I am going to go - go back to my office. I trust you will send Carmen in your place to town.” Pero says and quickly turns to rush back to his office, away from you and the children once more.

You stare after your husband, completely flabbergasted and frustrated. The man dictates that you must stay at the estate, not go to town and has an apoplexy before fleeing back to his study without giving you a reason why you must be a hostage. Blowing out a frustrated sigh, you turn and curse your husband's stubbornness. You need to know what happened to Maria and why town is forbidden.

Alejandra and Luis shake their heads when you tell them you are no longer heading into town. “Please. Tell Papa we must go!” Alejandra whines, clinging to your skirts. 

“I’m sorry, amor. He won’t allow us. We must listen to him.” You say and she shakes her head and looks up at you to stomp her foot. 

“I hate him!” She cries and runs off, followed by Luis. You sigh and sit down just as Carmen comes over with a tea tray. 

“Señora, I do not wish to speak out of turn.” She says and you shake your head, “when do we hide our feelings and thoughts, mi amiga.” You smile at her and she smiles back, glancing around when she takes a seat beside you. 

“Don Tovar has - has a lot of fears about you going into town because that was the night he lost Maria.”

You frown, unsure of why going into town would cause a woman to die in childbirth, but you take your tea and listen. “I do not understand.” You shake your head. “Maria died giving birth to Luis, I thought?” You frown, knowing you will need to soothe the children’s feelings later on, but you want them to be able to calm down before you try. If you know why your husband fears it so, you can explain better to disappointed young children who don’t understand why they cannot have fun. 

Carmen glances around again, “Maria was far along with Luis when she wanted to go into town to fetch more yarn for knitting. She - she was an independent woman and Don Tovar, he - he worshiped the ground she walked on. She loved him and he loved her. When she went into town, she was robbed for her jewels and coins and thrown to the ground and it sent her into early labor. The thugs were never apprehended and she was rushed home and the doctor was called. That was the night Luis was born and Maria died. They thought Luis was going to die too but he survived. Don Tovar was never the same.”

“Oh.” Your shoulders slump and you can understand why Pero is fearful of his wife going to town now. Even if he does not love you, the children have grown close to you and it would hurt them to lose you. “That is so sad.” You look down into your tea with a sigh and wish for a moment that this had been explained to you sooner. “I better understand why he is so hesitant, but he cannot think that the children will be kept here forever, does he?” 

“He has…attacks when he has concerns about the children’s safety. I think - I do not wish to speak out of place but I think that’s why he has pushed the children away.” Carmen says and you nod in understanding. “I think he wishes he could connect with them but it’s hard since all he sees is Maria. He loved her. She was his childhood sweetheart and they married young before he left to fight in the war.”

You sigh softly, knowing you would find it romantic if he didn’t push his children away. To close himself off from pain. “Then I will make him.” You decide with a firm press of your lips. “I will go talk to the children. Inform Lola that the children and I will be taking lunch in Don Tovar’s study.” You decide. “Since he refuses to take his meals in the dining room, we will come to him.” 

Carmen won’t argue with you, knowing it is futile, so she nods. “Very well, señora. I will tell Lola now and will let Carlos know.” 

You shake your head, “not Carlos. I want it to be a surprise.” You say and she nods, “sí, señora.” You smile and she stands, bowing her head before she exits the room, leaving you with the news to tell the children. 

**** 

Pero looks up from his papers when there is a knock on the door and he calls out “come in.” When you enter followed by the children, he’s shocked. “Señora?” He frowns, setting his pen down.

“Husband.” You send him a smile and guide the children over to the table that sits in front of the sofa and they sit down. Alejandra is still pouting, but her tears have dried and she is not so angry when she was told her papa feared for her safety. “Carmen will be bringing in our lunch soon.” You explain with a cheerful smile. “I thought that since you work so hard and are so busy, we would join you here to have lunch together.” 

Pero’s frown deepens, “lunch together? Are you not able to have lunch in the kitchen?” He asks and you raise your eyebrows at him. 

Pero bites his lip and you answer him, “the children would like to spend some time with their father seeing as we are no longer going into town.” You say and Alejandra stands up to walk over to Pero, reaching for his hand, “please papa. Let us have lunch together.” Her pout is Pero’s unraveling as he nods, standing up from his desk chair to walk towards the sofa.

Luis grins, unaware and still too young to understand his father’s hesitancy, but he begins to tell his father about the Spanish Armada that the governess is teaching the children about lately. “Sí, mijo. The English defeated us.” His dark eyes meet yours as he answers questions Luis excitedly asks him and he seems to relax a little. Lola and Carmen bring the meal in and the four of you begin to eat.

“I have decided to ask Carmen to direct any traveling merchants to our house when they are going through town.” You take a sip of your tea and look at your husband. “As well as inquire about children that are near Luis and Alejandra’s age that might wish to come play with them. Soon the house will be ready for visitors.”

Pero frowns, “why would we require merchants to come to my home?” He asks as he picks up his glass of wine. “And for the other children…I suppose it will be good for them to mingle with others.” He concedes that point, glancing at you and he’s taken back once again by your beauty, especially when the light hits your face.

“We require merchants to come to your home because the children need new shoes, their own are pinching their feet and the cobbler cannot make their shoes without measuring their feet.” You point out. “Also, I enjoy socializing and since I am not permitted to go to town, I will simply have town come to me.”

Pero sets his wine glass down, “I suppose that is for the best. I want the children to have everything they need, I want you to have everything you need. You - I am guessing one of the staff told you about Maria?” He asks, curious if anything has been said about his behavior.

You could lie to him, but you don’t. “I was told about the night Luis was born.” You admit softly, understanding how such a thing could haunt the man, especially since he was a soldier in the war. You wonder if the poor boy you have come to love even gets any acknowledgement on his birthing day, or if grief is too overwhelming. “You have my deepest sympathies.”

Pero swallows the lump that always forms in his throat when he thinks about Maria and that fateful night. In a way, he’s glad he didn’t have to discuss it with you, to relive that horrid night, but another part of him knows he needs to discuss it with you, to tell you why he brought you here and has yet to consummate the marriage. That time is not now though with the children here. “Gracias, mi esposa. I- I would like to have supper with you tonight…if you want.”

Your head tilts in surprise but you don’t voice it. “That would be lovely, Don Tovar.” You murmur softly, aware that he is asking for a dinner that is apart from the children. “I will ask that Lola makes your favorite dish.” You offer, smiling slightly. “Do you have any preference for dessert?”

Pero’s gaze dips down to your cleavage. You are a beautiful woman and he has not indulged in pleasure since Maria died apart from a few times where he had spent his coin and then felt incredibly guilty after when he felt like he was betraying his beloved wife. Tonight is about giving your marriage a chance, giving you a chance when he’s been so closed off from you since your wedding night.

You don’t miss the way that your husband's eyes dip down to your breasts and you wonder if he has finally decided to acknowledge that he has a wife. You aren’t ignorant of the relationship between man and wife and yet you have still retained your chastity well into your marriage. Pero mumbles something about a sweet and you nod. “I will make sure that is what you get, if you so desire.”

He nods in appreciation and Luis takes his attention by handing him a cookie from the tray. “Gracias, mi amor.” Pero smiles at his son. 

“Papa, will you come and ride with us tomorrow?” Alejandra asks, wanting him to join them for their riding lessons. 

“I- I am busy, mija. I-” 

Alejandra shakes her head, her lower lip trembling. “Papa. I want - please.” She begs and Pero looks at you, a little lost.

“Your Papa is a very busy man, sweetheart.” You remind her gently. “Although, I believe that he should be able to join you for at least one hour? Yes, Don Tovar?” You ask, glancing from Alejandra to your husband. It will allow the children to see their father and still not take too much time away from his busy work. Although you feel as if he spends much of his time working so he does not have to grieve. “How does that sound?” 

Alejandra nods, “please papa. Just an hour. Por favor.” She pleads and Pero nods, not wanting to see his daughter so pouty. 

“Sí, mi amor. An hour. Let’s go riding for an hour.” He compromises and she surges forward to hug his arm, “¡gracias, papa!”

You smile at your husband’s shocked face when his daughter smothers him in affection. Nodding when he looks over at you, asking if he is doing things right or perhaps seeking help. He’s doing something that will make his children very happy and it’s a good thing. “Now we need to finish eating.” You tell the children. “Papa needs to get back to work, so finish your lunch so we can leave him to it.” 

Pero nods, rubbing Alejandra’s back and he leans down to kiss her head. He can’t deny the way his heart twists at how much he’s missed out on with his little girl and his son. He knows he needs to be a better father to them. “Let’s finish eating.” He says and Alejandra nods, letting go of her father to settle down to eat. Lunch is finished in companionable silence and Pero is soon kissing his children on the head, promising them he will have dinner with them tomorrow.

“Go start your studies again.” You tell the children, smiling when they rush off and you turn towards your husband, slightly flustered to be alone with him for the first time. “I will clean up and get this mess out of your hair.” You promise. “Thank you for not turning them away. They talk about their papa every day and want to spend time with you.” 

Pero smiles, watching the children rush off after kissing his cheek then yours, and Pero watches them with his heart thumping. “Gracias, señora. You - you brought me back to my children and I- I never knew how to bridge the gap. I- I cannot repay you for that.”

“There is no need for repayment, Don Tovar.” You assure him, still calling him by his formal title since he has never permitted you to use his Christian name. “That is my job.” You know that he would rather be quit of your presence so you nod and quickly turn around to gather the meals up onto the trays to be carried back to the kitchen. 

Pero swallows harshly, “please…call me Pero.” He says and reaches for your hand. He squeezes it, and his heart twists as he thinks about you and how beautiful you are yet he feels like he’s betraying Maria.

“P-Pero.” you murmur, feeling shy now that he has stopped you from your task. You bite your lip as you stare into his dark eyes, wishing that you could tell him how handsome you find him. “Is there - something else you wished for, Pero?” You ask quietly. 

Pero stares at you for a moment before he withdraws his hand. This is progress but he knows he shouldn’t venture into his attraction to you. It will only lead to heartbreak, either his or the children’s. “No. That is all. I shall see you later for supper.” He says and clears his throat.

You are disappointed, knowing that he wanted something else but you don’t push him. He had shown that he had no wish to have a relationship with you. “Yes, Don Tovar.” You revert back to your formal politeness and you pick up one of the trays and you will send Carmen in to gather the other. “Good afternoon.”

Pero frowns, wishing to hear his Christian name from your lips and when you carry the tray out of the room, he leans back against the chair, sighing and rubbing his face. He wants this to work. He needs this to work. For the children’s sake. Dinner tonight will be his chance to redeem his terrible behavior.

The rest of the day is spent with the children. After asking Lola to make the Don’s favorite meal, you had finished their lessons and then took them down to the kitchen for both their dinner and their baths. Laughing when they pouted when getting into the water, and then pouting when they had to get out. Once they are clean and in their nightclothes, you chatter and joke with them as you take them back upstairs to put them to bed. Leaving you little time to get ready for dinner with your husband, but it is for the best. You had no time to think about why he wanted to have dinner with you now, so long after your marriage.

Pero adjusts his jacket - not the latest trends but well made, none the less- and he paces in the dining room, wondering if you aren’t coming as the minutes tick by. When you finally appear, you look beautiful and his heart flutters in his chest after laying dormant for so long. He strides forward, taking your hand in his and leans down to press his lips to the back of your hand. “Esposa, you look beautiful.”

“Forgive me for being late, Don Tovar.” You curtsy for him and hate how handsome he is in his evening jacket. “The children were begging for another story before bed and I could not say no.” Your own preparation for dinner had been rushed and you hope that he is not disappointed by your appearance.

Pero shakes his head, “don’t be silly, esposa. The children come first. I trust they are in bed?” He asks and you nod, “they are asleep and in bed.” You smile and Pero keeps your hand in his so he can guide you to your chair. He pulls it out and helps you sit before he makes his way over to his own seat.

Once you are seated, Pero sits across from you and Carmen immediately marches into the dining room with the first course. “Don,” you venture, smiling your thanks to Carmen as she sets down the soup. “I believe that we should hire more staff.” You tell him. “My maid also acts as the housekeeper and now she is serving our dinner. I believe that we need a butler and perhaps a full time housekeeper. That way we are not overworking our staff.”

“You are in charge of the household. If you wish to have another, I will have Carlos and Lola ask around in town.” 

You lift a brow in surprise, your soup spoon nearly to your mouth and you take your bite and swallow before you respond. “Thank you, I will have them ask immediately.” You smile at him again and Pero glances back down at his own soup as if he is shy. “The children are excited about riding with you tomorrow. I was surprised they had not learned already but they have come so far in their lessons.” If it is a rebuke, it is a small one. The children had been very far behind in their lessons and some had not started at all. You had been working diligently to get them on track to where they should be. “They are very bright children. You should be very proud of them.”

Pero’s stomach twists with guilt. He barely knows his children. He doesn’t know that they are behind in their studies when you mention they have much to learn. The guilt twists in his stomach again and he knows he can’t hide from them anymore. “I am.” He answers softly, offering you a rare smile. You are so kind, he doesn’t want to tarnish you with his sins.

Surprised by the smile, you offer one of your own and hope that he is starting to care. You continue to eat in silence, waiting for Pero to talk to you but the silent sounds of eating settles between you. It’s sad, really. This man doesn’t have more questions about his children and doesn’t seem interested in them. When you are done, you set your spoon down and quietly wait for the next course.

Carmen brings in the next course and Pero is struggling to find the words to make conversation. It’s been so long since he had dinner with someone and he’s a little out of practice with his etiquette. “Are you liking Spain or do you miss your home?” He asks you after rubbing his hands together.

“Truly?” You shrug one shoulder and look down at the plate in front of you. “I have not seen much of the country since the carriage ride to your estate.” You remind him, trapped here by your husband’s wishes. “But what I have seen is beautiful. Carlos is very hopeful we can restore the gardens and the greenhouse to their former glory.” You had learned that Pero had ordered that the garden not be planted, just maintained. As flowers would die off, they would not be replanted. At least until you had arrived. You suppose it was because Pero’s first wife had loved spending time in the gardens. The little pond of water had apparently been her favorite spot. 

Pero wants to bite out that the gardens are not to be touched but then he remembers why he brought you here to marry him. He needs someone to maintain his home. “Perhaps we can take a ride soon, I would like to show you my country.” He says softly and looks up after he cuts into his meat.

“I would like that.” He might not mean it. Might not ever do it, since he seems to blow so hot and cold, but you smile. “I have missed riding.” You haven’t gone for rides since the children would want to come with you and they were not accomplished enough to go so far and you do not know the area. “But there has been plenty to keep me busy. Have you any opinion on the changes, Don Tovar?” 

Tovar looks out of the window to the beautiful gardens, now full of flowers after your dedication to the garden, and he turns to look back at you. “The gardens looks gorgeous, mi esposa.” He says and turns back to his meal. “You are bringing the estate back to its former glory.”

“Thank you.” You feel proud that even if he is a man who does not interact with you much, that he sees your improvements to his home. “Was there anything that you wished to discuss with me?” You ask quietly. “I thought that might be why you asked me to have dinner with you?” 

Pero sighs, setting down his cutlery. “I wanted to discuss…if you were looking to have children of your own. We never got a chance to discuss it and I wanted to address the matter as it would mean us…consummating our marriage.” He says, trying to be as matter of fact as possible.

“I had hoped to one day have children.” You confess setting your own cutlery down and hate how handsome he is despite how aloof he acts. “I have put those dreams aside, now.” You look away, back down at your food and you aren’t hungry anymore. “It does not seem that you are interested in….consummating our marriage.”

Picking up his glass of wine, Pero knows he has failed in your marriage already. He’s been selfish and he isn’t sure how he can fix it. The thought of betraying Maria in this final way has his stomach twisting. “Are you- are you interested in consummating the marriage?” He asks softly.

You need to be honest with him. So you are. “I am not interested in being used.” You admit bluntly. “I have no experience with intimate relations, but I do know what to expect.” You assure him. “However, I would not accept being used to fulfill your needs and then ignored until the next time you have use of my body.” You could very well ruin your chances of any kind of relationship with Pero, but he asked. “You are a very handsome man, and I have found myself thinking about you often, but if you have every intention of satisfying your lust and then pretending I don’t exist until the next time you want to touch me, I would rather you just leave me untouched.

Pero nods, appreciating your candor and the way you hold yourself. It makes you more attractive to him. He sips his wine as he contemplates his answer. “I do not wish for you to feel used and I am not capable at this time of more than physical release. If you wish to experience pleasure, I will ensure you are satisfied with our marital bed. However, if you yearn for an emotional connection, then I would suggest we permanently place any relations on hold.”

You smile, albeit sadly. “Don Tovar, I have never expected love in an arrangement. I am not a silly, romantic girl. However, I will require you to respect me if we were to share our marital bed. Take your meals with me and perhaps some evenings beyond our pursuit of pleasure. I don’t require your heart, I know your first marriage was one of love and your affections still lay with your late wife.”

Pero is taken back by your refute to his offer but he appreciates your directness. “Very well. I assure you that I will try my best to ensure you are satisfied physically. Shall we - would tonight be appropriate or do you wish to wait until it happens naturally?”

You hum, amused by the idea of physical relations happening naturally with a man who has not spent more than two hours in your presence since you have been married to him. Perhaps it is foolish, but you want to know what it is like to be touched. “Tonight is fine.” You assure him and pick up your cutlery again. “Do you have any preference for physical intimacy? I do not have any reference, so I will need to be told if there is something I should not do. Or should do.”

Pero nods, “very well. Let us finish our meal and I will allow you as much time as you require to get ready for our consummation.” He assures you and continues to cut into his meal so he can finish eating. Dessert is soon served and you eat in companionable silence before the dishes are cleared away. “Take your time.” He tells you as he stands and waits for you to gather yourself from the dining room table.

You nod. “Give me twenty minutes.” You ask as he takes your hand to walk you to the stairs. “Then I will be ready.” You noticed that he did not answer you about his preferences but figure that he would just show you tonight. After all, it is a husband's job to teach his wife about how he prefers love making.

Pero watches you walk up the stairs and he exhales shakily, realizing that this will be a big step towards cementing your marriage as husband and wife tonight. He clears his throat and makes his way to his chambers to clean himself up. It’s been a while since he’s been intimate but he remembers that women do not like being with men who smell like a long day. He washes and dresses in his linen nightshirt, deciding to keep things simple for the act. Inhaling deeply, he makes his way down the hall to your chambers.

Tovar knocks on the door, heart thumping in his chest, and when you call out for him to come in, he slowly opens the door. “Hola, esposa.” He murmurs after he shuts it behind him. He takes in your figure, glowing in the firelight and his cock twitches under his shirt.

“Hello, husband.” You bite your lip and wonder how he will approach you and this. “What- what do you want me to do?” You ask, watching him carefully, more nervous than you had expected to be. You don’t think he will hurt you, but you had been told the first time is painful and that you would learn to enjoy it. “Do you wish me to get on the bed?”

Pero shakes his head, walking over to you to take your hands in his and he exhales shakily, suddenly nervous. It’s been so long since he’s been with a woman, especially his wife. His heart clenches when he briefly thinks of Maria but he pushes that aside. “Esposa, eres hermosa.” He murmurs, letting go of your hand so he can reach up to caress your cheek. You are beautiful and any man would be lucky to have you as their wife. You deserve better than him, than some half shell of the man he used to be. He slides his hand down to caress your neck and your collarbone, his fingers playing with the edge of your gown. “Can I take this off?” He asks, his dark eyes meeting yours, burning like embers in the flames of the fire.

Mouth dry from that simple touch, you nod. Watching him as his eyes seem to shine like a dark flame and you can help but to think that he is most handsome. His hands skim down over your waist and he tangles the material of your nightgown in his fingers and slowly starts to drag it up. Exposing you to the warmth of the fire and it makes you even hotter as your skin starts to burn from the simplest touch. Tonight you will just let him touch you, hopefully show you what he likes. Maybe you can help him by letting him find pleasure with you.

Pero tosses your gown to the floor and steps back, his dark eyes running down the length of your body. His eyes focus on your tits, swallowing harshly as his gaze lowers to the thatch of curls at the apex of your thighs. “Hermosa.” He murmurs, stepping closer to you, and he reaches out to caress your waist, pulling you up against his body. “Tell me if you want to stop. Or you don’t like anything.”

You nod, wanting to touch him but you don’t ask. Knowing you would hate feeling rejected if he pulled away. Your breathing stutters as his fingers slide up and brush the underside of your breast, nipple hardening and you bite your lip so you don’t moan wantonly. “Pero….” Your whisper is soft, pleading and you wonder why you are so eager to have this man touch you.

His hand squeezes your breast until he notices that you want to touch him so he reaches for your hand, bringing it to his chest. “You can touch me, esposa.” He assures you, inhaling the scent of your bath oil as he leans in to run his nose along the length of your neck.

His own dressing gown is hanging open at the neck and your fingers slide inside to touch hot, tanned skin. Biting your lip and trying to concentrate as his fingers brush over your nipple and make you gasp. Looking down, you see the gown tenting over his cock and your cheeks burn, but you are curious to see what it looks like, reaching down and brushing the fabric close so you can see better.

Pero hisses when your innocent fingers brush his cock. He reaches down, guiding you to wrap your fingers around him. His skin is hot and velvety and you explore him with utter lack of knowledge but he enjoys it. He likes that you have no expectations of him. He can just feel. He murmurs your name and his hand lets go of yours, letting you explore him while his palms continue their own adventure, palming your ass in his grip.

It feels wicked and yet you know that it is perfectly natural to touch him. You need to learn how he feels since he is perhaps the only man you would ever sleep with. Unless you remarry and your husband is obviously a hale and hearty man. “It is so hard.” You murmur in wonder. “And yet so soft.” You gasp when you feel a wetness on your skin and look down to see a smear of liquid on your finger.

He refrains from chuckling at your virginal observations. “Take your time, esposa. We are in no rush. No rush at all. I want to make sure you feel good.” He assures you and he slides his hand down between your legs, finding you wet and wanting him. He loves that and he is going to make you cum. From his fingers, from his cock. He finds your clit and loves the gasp that escapes you as he starts to rub the bundle of nerves.

Your eyes flutter closed and you hand to cling to his shoulder before your knees buckle. “Oh…ohhhh my….” You whimper, your grip on his cock loosening. You don’t know what he’s doing to you but you need more of it. “Pero.”

Pero grabs your waist, keeping you upright and pressed against him while he works your clit. His lips brush your neck by accident and you shiver against him. He rubs your clit a little faster, wanting you to cum for him for the first time. “That’s it, esposa.”

He doesn’t seem to mind touching you, increasing how fast he is rubbing but he’s groaning against your ear and encouraging you. For what you don’t know, you just know that your stomach is fluttering and clenching right up until stars burst behind your eye and you gasp as your cunt clenches on its own and a wave of heat floods your core.

Pero keeps you upright, working you through it and groaning when you bury your face in his neck. He groans your name softly and slides his finger back to gently push it inside of you, wanting to stretch you out so you feel less pain when he finally fucks you.

“Ohhhhhh.” Your eyes wide, mouth hit against his skin as you moan. Surprised to feel his fingers inside you and your body jolts when he pushes them up and presses against something inside you, “oh Pero.” You whimper, closing your eyes and unable to help yourself, you kiss his neck.

He curls his fingers, knowing he needs to make this good for you. He pushes his fingers a little deeper, loving the way you kiss his neck and he knows he should stop you but the intimacy makes his heart twist, his stomach clench. It’s been so long since he enjoyed the touch of someone else. “Fuck.” He curses, his cock twitching.

“Is this- is this how it feels?” You pant softly, your hips rocking up to his hand. Chasing the feeling that he pulls out of you. “All the time?” You are surprised that there aren’t more babies in the world if sex feels like this.

“Sometimes.” Pero chuckles softly, adding another finger, “sometimes it feels good, sometimes it’s just a physical release to relax. Quiero - I want you to feel like this all the time we are intimate, mi esposa.” He murmurs, his hand squeezing your ass to encourage you to rock down onto his fingers.

You feel so good, rocking on your feet as you wantonly move in your husbands arms. Kissing along his neck every time you grind down onto his finger, you feel that sensation start to build inside of you again. “Pero.” You whimper, clutching his shoulders and clenching around his fingers. “Pero- I- again- it’s- it’s-“ you cut yourself off with a small cry, another wave of pleasure and heat flooding you and making you forget about everything but the bliss of his fingers.

The way you clamp down on his fingers has his cock leaking. To hear you so unabashedly enjoying yourself has him groaning and he works you through it. His fingers soaked and he knows you are ready to take him. “Mierda.” He hisses, pressing his cock against your hip as you come back down to earth. Soon enough, he’s withdrawing his fingers and he wipes his fingers on his nightgown. “Come on, esposa. Lay down. I want to fuck my wife.” He says with a slight smile, knowing it’s taken way too long to get to this point in your marriage.

You hum, nearly floating on a cloud as you walk over to your bed and pull the covers back. Climbing into the bed and knowing that you will come out of it properly wed is thrilling and you lay back amongst the pillows. Watching as he walks towards you. “Are you going to remove your shirt, husband?” You ask softly, wanting to see your husband as fully as he has seen you. There is no love between you, but there will be passion and you wish to know what he looks like. 

Pero bites his lip, wondering if he will be good enough. If you will like the scars on his body from his battles won in the war. He exhales shakily and nods, reaching for the hem of his shirt so he can lift it over his head, fully exposing his body to you as you lay in your bed.

He is strong, you can tell that from the corded muscles that spoke of your husband doing much more than just being an idle lord. Bunching and rippling as he stands still for you inspection, you don’t hesitate to let your eyes roam over him. Widening slightly when you get your first look at his cock without some fabric blocking your view. “You are…handsome.” You admit breathlessly. “It- you make my core throb.”

Your words surprise Pero and he smirks, slightly cocky that you are satisfied with his appearance. He shifts closer to the bed until he is kneeling on it, his fingers caressing your ankle bone and up your leg. “That’s good. That’s lust, esposa. Do you desire me? Do you want me inside or you?” He asks, kneeling between your thighs and he doesn’t touch you so you can make the final assessment before he consummates the marriage.

Even though you are innocent, you are aware of what should happen. Feeling bold by the lust that is in his own eyes, you spread your thighs to reveal the thatch of curls covering your core. “Please, Pero.” 

“Mierda.” Tovar mutters and caresses your thighs. When he looks into your eyes and sees your certainty, he nods and reaches down to grip his cock. Shuffling closer, he notches himself at your entrance and slowly, so slowly, pushes inside of you. “Fuck.” He pants, trying to control himself but you’re so wet and tight. He exhales shakily and pushes deeper, wanting to make sure you are as comfortable as possible despite him taking your innocence.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling a pinch but it is not the painful experience that you had been led to believe that it was. Moaning softly as you feel him deep inside, seemingly deeper than his fingers had been, and throbbing. Your fingers dig into his shoulders again and you slowly open your eyes as you breathe out. “Pero.” 

The urge to bury himself inside of you is strong but he remains in control, slowly rocking his hips so he can work his cock deeper inside of you until he is settled inside of you. He knows you are a keen horse rider so your innocence was likely taken during a saddling but he doesn’t care. He’s damaged goods himself and he knows some men would want you to be intact but this is kinder to you and to him. He closes his eyes once he’s fully inside of you, his fists clenched as he tries to not spill his seed before you can experience the pleasure of sex.

“I- I feel so full.” You whimper, your fingers dragging across his skin and your legs shuffling slightly. He’s so still on top of you and it makes you want to move, need to move. To chase the same sensation you felt when you had his fingers inside you. You gasp when you think of what you heard your maids back home giggling about. Riding a man as if he were a horse and you clench down around him thinking about riding Pero like that, his cock deep inside you. 

Pero hisses when you clamp down on his cock and he inhales deeply. He reaches down to grab your thigh and he lifts it higher so he can sink deeper inside of you. “Fuck.” He pants and starts to move slowly.

You moan again, eyes widening at how well you feel him. “I- oh Pero.” You whimper, trying to roll you hips down but he has you nailed to the bed with his cock. “I-f-fuck.” You stammer out, the curse unfamiliar on your tongue but it feels like it is necessary for what you are feeling right now as your husband moves inside you. 

Your curse has his cock twitching inside of you and he groans when your walls squeeze him. “Fuck, esposa. You feel - it’s - perfect.” He allows you a minute access to his thoughts and that seems to make you wild. Clamping down on his cock and arching your back to egg him on. He starts to move faster, lowering his hips and groaning your name as he tries to make this good for you.

You enjoy the rough sound of his voice. Moaning again as he starts up a rhythm to his movements and making you nearly gasp every time he pushes deep. You slide your hands down your back, playing over scars and working muscles rippling under the skin. You feel like he approved of your curse so you do it again, followed by his name. “It’s so intense.”

He likes to hear that because it’s a lot to him too. To be intimate with his wife. He never imagined he’d remarry but he starts to think it’s possible to have a marriage with you, to be able to survive without Maria…perhaps even be happy. He enjoys your touch and slides his hand up to cup your breast, squeezing and he shifts so he can lean down to take your nipple into his mouth.

You hadn’t expected his mouth. Wrongly assuming that kissing being too intimate meant any part of your body and not just your lips. “Pero!” You cry out loud enough that the servants might hear and arch your back up, wanting more of the pleasure of his mouth at your breast. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.” You whimper, shivering.

He loves hearing you curse, his cock twitching inside of you, and he switches over to your other breast. He bites down on your flesh, nipping and sucking, and he moves inside of you, grinding deep. “You like this, hermosa?” He asks, lost in the pleasure of being inside of you.

“Yes, yes Pero.” You moan, closing your eyes and lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. You know that you are making him feel good. At least you hope you are. Feeling his thrusts start to build faster, his breathing catching and starting to pant against your skin. “So much.”

He grunts when he feels you starting to clench around him and he drops his hips so he can press his pelvis where you need him more. “Cum for me.” He pleads with a groan, needing to feel you cum before he finds his own high. “Por favor, esposa. Cum.” He demands and drags his tongue along your sternum.

You shiver at the feeling of his tongue on your skin. “Ohhhh Pero!” You cry out, body starting to shake underneath his with the next thrust of his hips as you start to fall apart. Pleasure whipping through every inch of your body as you moan.

He clenches his eyes shut when you clamp down on his cock and he bites down on your shoulder as he barely manages to pull out of you, his hot seed spilling on your thigh. “Fuck.” He pants, cock twitching against your hip as he rides his orgasm.

Your eyes open and you frown in confusion as you feel the wetness of his seed on your skin. “I- is something wrong?” You pant quietly, wondering if you’ve somehow disappointed him.

He frowns, pulling back to look down at you. “What are you talking about? I- nothing is wrong.” He’s trying to catch his breath and he shifts to lay down beside you. “It was good.” He assures you, “did you not enjoy it?”

“You-“ You bite your lip and look up at the ceiling. “You spilled your seed on my thighs.” You murmur quietly, wondering if there was something wrong with you that caused him to do that. He was supposed to finish inside you. That’s what everyone said.

Pero closes his eyes, trying to conceal the pain. “I know - I know we aren’t - tonight was our first night but - but I can’t risk you being with child so soon.” He admits, reminded once again of Maria dying during childbirth.

“I-I am so sorry.” You close your own eyes, mortified that you had brought up something so personal to him. “I understand. Forgive me for being so thoughtless.” You know you have ruined things and you swallow down a sigh.

Pero shakes his head, shifting to swing his legs over the side of the bed. “Don’t worry, esposa. I- I’ll leave you to clean up. I have work to attend to.” He declares as he stands and reaches for his nightgown. “I shall see you tomorrow.” He says, turning to look at you after he edged towards the door.

You nod. “Yes.” You know he wants to leave and you sit up, his seed cooling on your skin. “I will clean up and then choose another book from the library before I go to bed. Goodnight, husband.”

“Buenas noches, esposa.” Pero says and swiftly leaves your room. Tonight, he gave in to his desires and left you upset after he pulled out of you. He knows you will urge him to have a child soon and he isn’t sure he is ready for that conversation but for now, he will retire to his quarters to read over the accounts before he falls asleep. He’s not entirely sure how long he can continue keeping you at arms length but he has to try. He cannot lose another wife.

**** 

The next morning, you are surprised to find your husband in the dining room when you come in. “Buenas días, husband.” You see that he is reading some papers, so you move to your normal seat with the cup of tea you had retrieved yourself when you had gone in to see Lola. “I hope your night was restful.” You had decided that you understood where Pero stood on getting you with child and you wished to speak with him about it. “Have you ever used a- a condom before?” You ask him. “My maid back home said they can be purchased from the chemist. Perhaps that would be a good solution?”

Pero raises his eyebrows over his newspaper, watching you for a moment until he chuckles. “Is that what you wish for us to use? I am happy to let you manage our…situation if you wish.” He trusts you and he isn’t sure when that changed.

“You said that you did not wish for me to be - to have a child.” You don’t add the ‘yet’ portion because you feel like he would rather that be ‘at all’. “So a co-condom would help.” You shrug, slightly self conscious now. “We don’t have to use one.”

Pero nods, understanding what you are saying and he appreciates your planning. “Let us have Carmen fetch us some things and then we have the choice.” He says, knowing that it will be hard to keep away from you now that he knows how you feel. The passion inside of you scares him and he knows if he allows it, he will lose himself in you. He can’t put his heart back on the line and the children need a mother. With a nod, he goes back to eating his pan con tomate and knows that you will take care of the issue of birth control.

Carmen brings you a plate of food and you thank her, eating in silence with your husband. You had not expected grand conversations with him, at least at the beginning, so you do not try to disturb him with idle chit chat and when you stand after finishing, you give him a small smile. “Have a good day, husband.” You wish him softly.

Pero watches you go and realizes that maybe he doesn’t just want this to be a marriage of mutual benefit. He finishes his breakfast in peace and decides to spend the rest of the day near the children.

****

“Where is my wife?” Pero asks Carmen, who frowns, “she’s in her chambers, Don Tovar.” She answers and Pero frowns, making his way to your rooms and he is even more confused when he enters and calls your name, only to find you aren’t there.

Biting your lip, you urge the horse faster. Knowing that you are breaking your word to your husband, but it cannot be helped. Luis is feverish, and Carmen and Lola had been nowhere to be found when you had gone searching for them. Frantic about your husband’s son, you know it would destroy Pero to lose the last bit of his wife that she had given him. So you broke your promise. Currently racing to town to fetch the doctor, you pray that the instructions you had given his sister were working and that you will be able to bring the doctor back from town in time.

When Pero finds the children, he’s frantic when he’s told that Luis has a fever and you have left to go to town to find the doctor. He can hardly contain his anxiety, his hands shaking, and he growls at Carlos, “I’m going to fucking find her!” He feels like he’s losing control, his heart pounding and his breathing is heavy. His legs feel like lead and his brain focuses on you and his children. Is Luis dying? Is this his punishment for his time in the war? Is he going to lose you? He pants and collapses to his knees, Carlos reaching out to steady him as his vision goes cloudy. “I- I - can’t save them.”

It is to your detriment that you haven’t been to town, wasting precious time to find the doctor and demanding that he come with you back to the Tovar estate. Shaking with fear and praying that you make it back in time to help your little boy. You didn’t give birth to him, but you have grown close to the children and you have come to love their personalities now they are being taught and challenged, time being spent with them. The mischief of your first meeting was long gone. Rushing to your horse and as soon as the doctor is mounted on his own, racing for home.

Pero manages to stand up, shoving Carlos away as he demands to know where you’ve gone. “I - Alejandra said she’s gone to the town.” Pero doesn’t waste a second, rushing to the stables and swinging his leg over his stallion, no saddle, he pushes the horse to the limit as he gallops towards town. Images of you injured or dead flash in his mind and he realizes how you have wiggled his way into his mind and heart. Your kindness and the feel of you beneath him have his heart twisting at the thought of anything happening to you.

Frowning, you spot a rider in the distance on the road. Unsure of who it might be, you glance back at the doctor who is on your horses heels and then forward again. Recognizing the haste in the way you see the horse being pushed, dread knots in your stomach, realizing that it must be your husband. Lifting a hand, even though he is too far away to shout to, you wonder if he will beat you for disobeying him.

Pero sees you as he gallops and he nearly falls off of the horse when he pulls on its hair to slow it down. “You - what the fuck do you think you are you doing?” Pero yells as you approach him and the doctor’s horse skids as he comes to a stop.

“Luis! Luis has a fever!” You cry out, panting for breath as your horse stomps and shakes underneath you, “I- I had to get the doctor.” Your own mother had died from a fever sickness and the idea of losing his little boy on your watch makes you want to be sick. “I- we must hurry Pero! He cannot die, not like mama!”

Pero nods, knowing that now is not the time to have this argument. “You’re unharmed?” Pero asks and you nod frantically. His heart is pounding but you are safe and unharmed from what he can tell so he turns his horse around and the three of you gallop back to his estate, back in front of the sick little boy in record time. Pero kneels beside Luis, watching the doctor and he swallows harshly, “por favor. Just - do something.”

You twist your hands, knowing that Pero is worried and you start to pray yourself. Carmen has Alejandra in the other room and you can hear her comforting the older child. The doctor works and you worry, pacing the floors continuously, eager to bring the doctor anything he might need and bringing in the basin of cold water that Lola brings up.

Pero holds his son’s hand while the doctor assesses him and murmurs prayers as you kneel beside him. He reaches for your other hand, squeezing it as he prays and the doctor starts to drain the boy’s blood in hopes of bringing down the fever. “Bleeding should help the fever break. If not, I have some bark I think will help.” 

Pero swallows, his throat is dry, “whatever you can do. I- I can’t lose him.”

You try to be there for him. Sitting strong and praying as the doctor continues to bleed the boy until he claims that it is enough. Wiping him down and checking his forehead again with a small frown before he moves over to the teapot he had requested with boiling water. You squeeze Pero’s hand and glance at your husband’s worried face.

Pero doesn’t know how long he lays there, his heart and mind weary as he watches his son. The doctor gave him the tea and left, stating it “is in God’s hands now.” He’s not eaten, he hasn’t slept. He just sits there and watches the little boy breathe. He doesn’t know where you are, he sometimes wonders but he’s too concerned about his son.

You watch. Waiting for anything and everything that Pero or Luis might need. Often leaving the room to comfort Alejandra and to let her know how her brother is doing. You don’t want her to feel forgotten and eventually you allow her to come into the room after promising to be quiet. The two of you sit in a chair behind Pero and eventually curl up together and fall asleep together from exhaustion and worry.

Pero isn’t sure when he fell asleep, perhaps the exhaustion got to him and he simply rested his head on the cool sheets, his eyes closing without his knowledge. “Papa.” He doesn’t hear the weak murmur at first. “Papa.” A small hand touches his hair and Pero’s nose wrinkles. “Papa.” The voice is stronger and wakes Pero up, his head shooting up to see Luis lucid and awake. 

“Luis” He gasps, reaching for him to check his views. His eyes are clear, his forehead cool but not cold. He’s okay. “Mi amor.” Pero chokes, wrapping his arms around the little boy to pull him into his arms.

You wake up, rousing Alejandra in your arms and nearly sob with relief that Luis is awake and alert. “Mama, is Luis okay?” Alejandra demands, her own worry for her brother causing her to not think about what she calls you. Your eyes widen and you try not to tear up at the honorary name, nodding and brushing her tangled hair back from her face and holding her close despite being on your lap. “It looks like he is.” You hum. “Go hug him and your papa.”

Alejandra nods, rushing over to her papa and her brother and she wraps her arms around them. Pero shifts, gathering the children into his arms and he sniffs, trying to ignore the tears that sting in his eyes as he embraces them. “Te amo, mijos.” He murmurs and looks over at you, “come here, esposa.” He gestures for you to come over to them.

Standing up, you are happy to see such a touching moment between the small family. You know you are a part of it now, but they are reminders of his wife and very dear to him. Walking over, you ruffle Luis’ hair and smile. “You gave us all a fright, Luis.” You hum, sliding your hand to your husband’s shoulder.

Pero reaches up to grip your hand in his, his terror at losing you or one of his children now subsided and in its place is joy that he doesn’t have to suffer another loss. The four of you embrace until Carmen comes in to attend to Luis, wanting him to eat something and drink. Pero tells Alejandra to stay with her brother and she nods. “I need to speak with you.” Pero says to you, his voice deepening as he reaches for your hand.

You swallow, aware that he will now punish you. You had disobeyed him and you know from everyone that Pero is a stern man. You follow him quietly, wondering why he is still holding your hand as he guides you out of the nursery towards your bedroom.

When Pero opens the door to your chambers, he pushes you inside. “What were you thinking?” He hisses, dropping your hand as he glares at you, “I told you to never go into town.”

“I was thinking that Luis was in danger.” You won’t apologize for your actions, but you understand his anger. “He needed the doctor and I could not find anyone.” You stand straight and stiffen your spine. “If you punish me, that is you right. But I would do it again. My mother died of fever and I did not want you to lose your last gift from your wife.”

Your words take Pero back and his jaw drops, staring at you as he absorbs your words. Your kindness knows no bounds it seems and that’s the moment it clicks for Pero. Unable to stop himself, he surges forward and you think he’s about to hit you but he doesn’t, instead, his lips press against yours.

You had flinched, you could admit that yourself but then you are gasping against Pero’s mouth, shocked that he is kissing you. He had told you that he wouldn’t do that again; it was too intimate for him. Yet his lips are warm and soft against yours and you cannot help but melt into him.

His hands grip your waist and his mouth moves against yours, his tongue sliding along your lower lip as he pulls you up against him. You moan into his mouth and his hands reach down to tug your skirts up, his hands soon pulling his cock free from his breeches, hard and aching. He needs you and he hopes you want him too.

You had expected a beating, not for your husband to fuck you. But you aren’t going to push him away. Your fingers tug on your petticoats and you quickly push them down. “Husband.” You gasp out when he pulls his lips away. “Please.” You whimper, enjoying his apparent need for you.

His hand grabs your thigh, lifting it over your hip so he can position his cock at your entrance and he pushes inside of you with a groan. “Fuck, hermosa.” He murmurs, caressing your thigh as he pushes deeper.

“Oh god.” You would probably collapse if he didn’t have his hand on your waist and use his strength to keep you upright. Wanting to kiss him again, you wonder if that was a fluke and he wouldn’t kiss you but you turn your head to kiss along his jaw while he throbs inside you.

He turns his head to kiss you, pressing his lips against yours as he starts to move inside of you. You’re so wet and tight and alive. You’re alive. He focuses on you and your touch, his mouth moving against yours as he presses you against the wall.

You had never considered that your husband could fuck you against a wall, and yet, it’s thrilling. You moan into his mouth and cling to him, not caring that his hips push you back against the wainscoting every time he thrusts into you. Your own tongue touches against his and your entire body shivers with pleasure.

“Fuck. Mi esposa. I- Don’t want to lose you.” He murmurs, kissing along your jaw, and he kisses down your throat as he lifts your hip a little higher so he can push deeper inside of you. “Fuck. Please. I need - I need you.”

“Pero.” You whimper, closing your eyes and letting him do whatever he needs to you. You are starting to fall for him, especially with how he worried for Luis.

It’s hard to imagine his days without you now. Cold nights alone have turned into passionate escapades scattered throughout the day, touches leading through the night. He has tried to stay away but you’ve drawn him in. He continues to work his cock in and out of you, groaning as he presses his lips to yours again.

Closing your eyes, you give yourself over to him completely. Clinging to him as he fucks you so deeply you know they you will be feeling him for days after. Even though he’s not wearing a condom, you expect him to pull out and spill his seed outside your body. The condom had been great and you loved the feeling of him pulsing inside you.

Pero kisses along your jaw, breathing you in and he needs you to clamp down on his cock. He grabs your other thigh, lifting you up completely as the adrenaline surges through him and he grunts as he lifts you up and down his cock, still pressing you against the wall.

Gasping, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and try to wrap your legs around him, your skirts bunched between you. “Fuck, Pero, I- I love you.” You moan quietly; needing to at least whisper it even though he doesn’t feel the same way. “So close.”

He hears it but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he presses his lips to yours and when you whine into his mouth, he groans against your lips when you clamp down on his cock. He should pull out but he doesn’t, too focused on you and how you feel and how he could’ve lost you. He grunts and keeps thrusting you through your orgasm until finally, he’s pushing deep and filling you full of his hot seed, painting your walls.

Your eyes widen and you are too busy worrying about the feeling of his hot seed inside you. Knowing he will regret it you are savoring this one moment. “Pero- Pero you have to let me- I have to bathe.” You whimper.

He doesn’t release you, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pants again at your chin, enjoying the feel of you surrounding him. “Don’t.” He murmurs, not wanting to let you go just yet. He can’t lose another person from his life that he cares for.

You frown but you don’t push him away, deciding that he knows what he is doing. “Okay, husband.” You pant softly, feeling him throb inside of you and start to soften. “Is-is this my punishment?” You ask teasingly.

Pero chuckles softly, pulling out of you and lowering you down to the floor. Your skirts settle down and he reaches down to tuck his cock back into his breeches. “No punishment.” He assures you and reaches for your hands, “please…just do not go into town unless you are escorted.” He compromises, knowing that it will be hard to overcome his anxiety surrounding town but he cannot keep you prisoner.

You bite your lip, aware that your husband is compromising. “Yes.” You murmur softly, leaning in and pressing your lips to his cheek. You don’t want to push him for more than he will give you so you won’t kiss him on the lips unless he kisses you first. “Thank you, Pero.” You hum, smiling as you pull back to look into his dark eyes. “I will have an escort.”

Pero nods, letting go of your hands and he is pleased that he could compromise. The idea of you going into town terrifies him, he doesn’t want to lose you. The children clearly love you and he - he has affection for you. 

**** 

Pero looks up at you as you enter the dining room. He stands up, walking over to pull your chair out for you, taking over the job from the footman. “You look beautiful, esposa.” He murmurs, caressing your cheek as you stand before him and he helps you sit down.

“Thank you.” You give Pero a smile, but you’re slightly nervous. Your monthly time has been missed for several months now and you woke up feeling nauseous and your breasts being sore. You are with child and while your husband has become warmer to you, you don’t know how he will react. It’s true that there have been several times since the day Luis was sick that he hasn’t worn the condom, he had also still worn it and never said anything about having children with you or your confession of your feelings. You’ve never repeated those words again. “I’ll just have some weak tea and toast.” You tell the footman before he disappears to let Lola know you are ready for breakfast.

Pero frowns, usually you order more at breakfast and he wonders if you are unwell. “Are you ill, esposa?” He asks and wonders if you are okay. He watches you as you eye the cup of tea with a grimace and he calls Carlos over to order the doctor to come to the house.

“I think that I might have some kind of stomach malady.” You admit with a small groan, covering your nose from the aroma of the tea. “It should pass.” You have an idea of what is wrong but you don’t wish to alarm Pero.

Pero is concerned but knows the doctor will help you and Carlos will ensure his swift arrival. Your breakfast is hardly touched and he will inform Carmen to let Lola know to prepare a light but generous lunch for you. He is concerned, knowing how Luis was and he’s terrified that you are going to end up with the same fate.

After breakfast, you still feel ill, laying down and resting even though you know you should be watching the children. You feel dizzy and nauseous and you wonder if all women feel this way when they are pregnant. You are sure that is what is going on, emptying your stomach of the tea and the few bites of toast you had managed into the chamber pot under your bed.

Pero greets the doctor, escorting him to your chambers. This is the same doctor who was present when Maria died and the midwife called for him after there were complications. The two men exchange a look before Carmen announces the doctor’s arrival. “I will leave you to it.” Pero says after everyone enters.

“Oh, I didn’t know Pero was calling a doctor.” You sit up, embarrassed and hoping that the nausea has passed. “I am afraid that I am not quite feeling myself.” You admit when he tuts and brings his bag over. “I think- I think I might be ….” You lower your voice. “Expecting.”

The doctor nods, “very well. Let us check and we can confirm, Señora Tovar.” He says softly and under Carmen’s watchful eye, he performs his tests. Feeling your stomach, he smiles. “Congratulations, Señora. You are with child.” He offers you a soft smile and Carmen grins, “congratulations.”

“Thank you.” It’s a relief to know that is what is wrong, but you wonder how Pero will take the news that you are expecting his child. “What can be done about the nausea?” You ask him softly. “My mother died young and I have never been around someone expecting.”

“I have a tea I can provide your cook with to assist with the sickness.” The doctor informs you and is soon bidding you goodbye. When the doctor exits your quarters, Pero looks up, eyes questions and the doctor pats his shoulder. “I believe your wife had good news.” Pero swallows, knowing what that means and he thanks the doctor before Carlos escorts him out. 

Exhaling shakily, he walks over to your room and knocks, entering your chambers to find you sitting on the edge of the bed. He sits down beside you and reaches for your hand, “esposa.”

“I’m sorry, Pero.” You start quietly, looking down at your joined hands. “I know that you wished to wait, or to never have children with me.” You are worried that he will be upset, that it will ruin the closeness you have felt with him lately. “I do not know what happened. I’m - I am going to have your child.”

He squeezes your hand, “don’t know what happened? I think I do.” He chuckles softly. “And…and I’m not angry about it. I knew what could happen and you are an incredible mother to Luis and Alejandra. I think you’ll be amazing.” He assures you, “and I - I want to have a child that is half you and half me.”

You let out the breath you had been holding and smile. Relieved that he is not upset and you are able to be excited for the first time. “I think it will be wonderful.” You admit, although you frown after a moment. “I promise I will not go into town, even with an escort, when my time draws near.” You don’t want him to worry about another wife, even if he doesn’t love you, he would worry.

Pero nods his gratefulness, knowing you now understand his anxiety and reaction. Especially after you ran off to fetch the doctor. He knows he is going to be even more protective of you. “It’s good news, hermosa.” He promises, leaning in to kiss your forehead, brushing his nose against yours until his lips brush your lips.

You’ve found there is comfort in his kisses. A certain sense of home that you’ve not found anywhere else as the nights in his bed progressed. It was often you ended up sleeping together after your pleasure but you had never voiced that sentiment of love again. You desperately want to say it again, but you are afraid to, afraid of being reminded that you are not his late wife and he had warned you that he wouldn’t love you.

**** 

As your pregnancy progresses, Pero gets more and more anxious. He’s nervous of the birth, reminded once again of Maria dying after giving birth to Luis. He swallows harshly as he leans against the wall, trying to calm his racing heart. You’re going to give birth soon according to the midwife and each day makes his anxiety threaten to overwhelm him.

Every day that passes, you can see your husband slowly start to unravel. He is sleeping less and worrying about you. Not even allowing you on the stairs without someone. Making you ring a bell to have someone come help you. Most often he works from your chambers, moving his work to your writing desk. You sigh as you slide your hand over your stomach, panting slightly. The pains had started last night but you had kept it from him, knowing he wouldn’t sleep and he desperately needed the rest.

Pero sees Carmen rushing through the halls and she slows down when she sees him. “What’s happening?” He asks, frowning, and the young woman bites her lip. “Tell me.” He demands and Carmen knows she can’t deny him, “she’s having pains. The birth is happening. I must fetch the midwife.” Carmen rushes out and Pero’s eyes widen. 

“Fetch the doctor too. I will take no chances.” He says and Carmen nods, rushing off. Pero drops everything he is doing and rushes to your chambers, “esposa. Is it true? You’re having pains?” He asks, eying you in the chair in the corner.

You would deny it, to spare him a bit more time but another pain makes you clutch your stomach. Bending over slightly as you start to moan quietly. It lasts for a long time and by that time you relax, you are panting. “I am.”

Pero rushes over to you. Guiding you over to the bed, “come, you must lay down.” He shakes his head, trying to take your shoes off. “Why didn’t you send for me?” He asks, caressing your ankle as you settle against the pillows.

“You have not been sleeping.” You remind him quietly. “I know you need rest and if I told you, there was not any rest in your future.”

Your whimpers make his heart clench and he shakes his head. “Mi - esposa. Come, do not worry about me. I will worry until the babe is in your arms and you are well and healthy.” His voice wavers for a moment and he wonders if you notice as he wipes your forehead of the beads of sweat.

“It will be well.” The midwife has assured you that you are carrying well for a first time birth and believes that it will be a simple thing. Reaching for his hand, you smile at him softly. “I have already asked that you be allowed in the birthing room if you need.”

Pero is surprised and pleased, kissing your damp forehead. “I won’t leave you.” He promises and brushes his lips against yours. “I’ll be here. Every single second.” He vows as Carmen comes back in with water and a flannel.

You get changed into a clean nightgown, Carmen helping you although you don’t mind your husband being there. He has seen you naked more than your own nanny when you were a child. Getting settled back down into the bed, you grip Pero’s hand and cry out when the next pain washes over you.

Pero lets you squeeze his hand as you try to ride the pain. You whimper and Pero frowns, “where is the midwife?” He asks, starting to get impatient. “And the doctor? I called for him as well.” He growls, looking over at Carmen.

“They are coming, Don Tovar.” She assures him, knowing that he is worried about his wife. Everyone has seen how much the Don has come to care about his wife and they are all happy for him. You are kind and loving and it will be good for him to love again. “The doctor is impressed with your wife and has already said he will come whenever summoned.”

“He needs to be here. I will allow no one to take a singular risk. I won’t have my wife’s health and the baby’s health put in danger.” He hisses and squeezes your hand when you groan at the pain. “Are you - you need anything?” Pero asks, wanting to make sure you have everything you need.

“Water.” You beg quietly. Labor is harder work that you realized and you feel parched from it. 

Pero nods and squeezes your hand again. “Whatever you want.” He promises, kissing your hand and rushing over to the tray Carmen had brought you earlier.

Pero returns with the water, letting you sip it and he wipes your forehead with the wet rag Carmen hands him. It seems like the sun is setting when you are finally ready to push. The midwife checking you and announcing it’s time. Pero is terrified, this was the time Maria lost too much blood. He remembers the sheets being soaked with it as Luis cried. He grips your hand, sweat beading on his brow as his heart starts to pound

Clenching your teeth together, you try to make sure that you don’t scream during the next pain. It makes Pero uneasy every time, he pales when you scream and grip his hand as tight as you can. You know that he is scared and even though you are in pain, you’re worried about him.

Pero feels unwell but tries to stay strong, each clenched scream bringing you closer to having his next child and he is terrified. Terrified of losing you. During your marriage, he has grown close to you. Spending many nights in your bed, even if he hadn’t touched you. He can’t imagine his life without you now. “Come on hermosa, you can do it. Push.” He urges you on, wanting you to concentrate.

Nodding, you sit up slightly and start to push. Bearing down with all your might, you see the midwife between your thighs as you start to feel more pressure.

Pero watches you push, his eyes darting between you and the midwife and he’s worried, he’s so scared that he’s gonna lose you. His hand grips yours as he watches you push and he’s silently praying.

“I can’t- it is too much.” You gasp out, falling back against the sheets as you pant. 

The midwife clicks her tongue and looks up at you. “One more push, señora, and the bebita will be in your arms.” She promises you. “Next time the pain comes you push as hard as you can.”

“You can do it, hermosa. You can do it.” He eggs you on, sweat beading on his forehead as he watches you struggle. “Come on, mi amor. Come on.” He says, wiping your forehead.

You close your eyes, tears leaking out of the corners as you barely hear the words that you have wished for far longer than you should have. Holding his hand, you nod, bearing down with all your strength and pushing your baby into the world. Feeling them slip from your womb with a rush of relief.

Pero watches the midwife cradle the crying babe, her smile wide and Pero starts to cry, relieved and so happy at seeing his child born. “Felicidades, Don Tovar, it’s a boy.” She announces and Pero leans in to kiss your head. 

“A boy, amor,”

“A boy.” You sob, exhausted and relieved and more than a little emotional about hearing ‘amor’ again. Almost terrified that he is thinking of his late wife and reliving that horrible night with a happier ending through you. “We have another son.” You pant, reaching for the baby when the midwife hands him to you.

Pero looks down at the screaming babe in your arms. His eyes sting with tears and he looks at you in awe. “A boy. Another boy.” He murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Amor.”

“He’s beautiful.” You murmur quietly, brushing your hand over his wet forehead. “Perfect.” His ten little fingers are curled into fists and he has ten perfect little toes. “Isn’t he?” You ask, looking up at your husband after you manage to tear your eyes away from your new baby.

Pero leans in to rest his forehead against yours, loving how you are cradling the baby and he knows Luis and Alejandra are excited for his arrival. “He’s perfect. So is his mother.” He murmurs, caressing the baby’s head.

You hum, not sure how to take that and look back down at the baby. He’s turning his face towards you and crying, searching for your breast. “Put him on the breast.” The midwife tells you. “Your milk will come.” You nod, opening your nightgown and guiding him towards your breast and gasping when he latches into your nipple.

Pero watches in awe, the midwife working on helping you with the afterbirth and the baby mouths at your nipple. Pero kisses your forehead again, he’s so perfect. You’re perfect. Hermosa, I- I love you.” Pero chokes, never imagining that he’d fall in love again but he couldn’t help it, you’re too beautiful and kind. The children love you and you’ve made his life so much better.

Your eyes widen and you look up at Pero in shock. “You- you love me?” You ask in astonishment, sure that would never happen for you. He nods and you start to cry. “I love you too Pero, I love you and our three children.”

Pero leans in to kiss you, “I love you. So much. I- I didn’t think - after Maria - you’ve brought this home, my children…me…back to life.” He murmurs and kisses your forehead. “Mi esposa, hermosa, amor. You are everything to me. I owe you the world.” He murmurs, looking down at the little boy.

Your smile is watery, but overjoyed. You had come to Spain to marry a man you didn’t know and was told that he could never love you. Now you have a beautiful son, two other children that adore you and your them, and a loving husband. Your father had chosen right. You were a family.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Damage Control 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Jonathan Pine, Lloyd Hansen

Summary: you’re sent to work intel on a mission with two very combative men.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You slow as you approach the tall and ominous gates of the fortress which appears more a country house. You lean forward to peer through the bars and search the pillars beyond. You see dark specks milling about. A man like Hansen can never be too cautious. 

“Mm, you think the council would tend the lawns,” you mutter. 

“Ah, here, a place like this is hardly a century old. Not worth the funding,” Pine retorts. 

“Fair. I forget how shiny and new everything is here,” you muse. “Do you think we should buzz?” 

You look pointedly to the speakerbox near the door. 

“Don’t. Stay in the car,” he girds. 

You do as he says. He would know better than you. You’re intel, not an agent. You better behind the scenes than in the midst of one. 

You wait. You squint through the windshield then reach behind the seat where you put your satchel. You dig out your glasses case and put them on. 

“Ah, I see movement.” 

“Patience,” Pine says as he glances over at you. 

“I never wear these things. Doc says I should when I drive but they just get in my way,” you adjust them as you peer past the bars of the gate. 

He hums but doesn’t remark. A car drives down the stone way that winds up to the immense estate. It slows and single man gets out. You watch curiously. You know as well as the man next to you that there are others watching. Those behind long barrels and scopes. 

The man has a handgun read. You don’t doubt his willingness to use it. Pine sniffs and puts his palms out. 

“Suppose we need to go through the motions. Keep your hands visible and get out,” he instructs you under your breath. 

You quickly undo your seat belt and let it repel. He does the same but much calmer than yourself. You pull the door handle and let yourself out, hitting your foot on the interior as you do. You stand and hold your hands clearly by your head. 

“Pine,” the man approaches the gate as he aims. 

“Should I say a prayer?” Pine asks. 

“Magenta,” he turns the gun toward you. “Despite the name, I expected some slimy little chump.” 

“I recommend you put that down or use it. I do not like to speak over a barrel.” Pine says. 

“Oi, gov’na,” the man snorts. “Calm yer horses.” The man holsters the gun and shakes his head. “She already knows who I am. She’s been running checks for months.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. As much as you know about him, he must know as much about you. Both of you. 

“Right, my men will do a search then you can come in. Get a lay of the land. I know you must be dying for a fucking drink,” he snickers and backs up, signaling with his left hand. You notice the two stubs that were once his pinky and ring fingers. 

He retreats to the car as the gates roll open. Men in black tactical gear emerge and near. You’re jostled as one pats you down. His hand runs between your thighs and he cups your pelvis. His fingers wiggle in a not too proper motion. 

“Eh, what d’ya mean, mate?” You try to pull away and hit the man stand behind you. 

“We did not consent to a cavity search,” Pine tries to move around the car but is stopped by the nose of a rifle. 

“Doing our job,” the man jiggles his hand and you swat him away. 

“Oi, that’s not your job,” you unthinkingly slap his shoulder next. “Fuck yerself.” 

He chortles and shakes his head, reaching around you to grope your ass. You yipe and shove him away. 

“I got nothing in there, mate,” you elbow the one behind you. “My firearm's in my suitcase. Cut the lining out, you nonce.” 

Another man is already in the trunk. You hear him picking apart your luggage. Pine growls and a man hooks his arms from behind. 

“You shouldn’t treat a lady as such,” he reprimands them as you’re once more fondled. 

“No ladies here.” The man sneers. 

“Sure as shit isn’t if ya keep touchin’ me like that,” you warn and ball your fists. 

“Clear,” the man shuts the trunk as another pops his head up from the back seat. 

“They can walk in,” the man in front of you says. “Richards, drive.” 

He points into the drive seat and pulls you out of the way. You twist away from and snarl, “all clear, ya said. No more.” 

“I recommend you keep those hands to yourself,” Pine catches his fingers and bends them back before he can reach for you again. “Else you might lose them.” 

“Bold words for a man with no gun,” the man touches his holster. 

“I’m not one to hide behind bullets,” Pine retorts and lets him go. “Come on, I don’t think your boss would appreciate you keeping him waiting.” 

Pine waves you along with him as he starts toward the gates. You keep afoot with hip as best you can. You cross your arms, skin crawling as your cheeks burn. You’ve dealt with similar before but it never gets easier. 

“Americans,” he sniffs. 

“Men,” you correct him then wince. “Not all, you know.” 

“Too many,” he shakes his head. “They seem to follow Hansen’s lead.” 

“Must,” you agree. 

You come up to the front of the house after a long hike up the stoned drive. Hansen sits on the steps, grooming his mustache with a small comb. He smirks but doesn’t stop. 

“Figure you could stand to stretch your legs after all that sitting,” he scoffs. “Welcome to Paradise.” 

You squint and push your glasses up into your hair. Pine shifts and tilts his head, “lovely house.” 

“Isn’t it?” Hansen stands and tramps down the steps. He nears you as he tucks away the comb in his front pocket. “What do you like to drink, sugar cookie?” 

You peek at Pine from the corner of your eyes. He’s being nice, for now. May as well enjoy that while it lasts. 

“You got lager? Cheers.” You say. 

“Cheers,” he echoes in delight, “cute. Would like biscuits and tea, eh?” 

He mocks your accent but you don’t flinch. “If it’s on offer, I won’t say no.” 

“I’ll have tea, if it’s on the menu,” Pine intones as he sidesteps closer. 

Hansen pulls back and looks at the taller man. He smirks.  

“Of course, chap, I’m sure I can find you a tea bag,” he grins as he claps the other man’s shoulder. Pine gives his hand a detestable glare before it falls away. “Alright, pardon my fucking manners.” Hansen spins on his heel, “let’s go.” 

[syndrossi]

Hi! It's DearCat from AO3. I bet you thought you got rid of me, but you didn't. I'm just busy, lol. Expect a series of long comments once I manage to get the time! I need to catch up.

That said! It's 4:33 am and I made the mistake of scrolling through your Tumblr so now here we go:

I was reading through the concept of Resonant!Daemon waking up in the past and going back to Runestone to claim his babies since birth. And the potential! I am dying. I mean so much potential fluff but also all the ways that this Daemon changes dynamics all over the place.

This Viserys doesn't yet know that Jon and Rhaegar are prophecy babies but you already get a Daemon who is leery of allowing Viserys around his kids, to avoid Viserys trying to steal them again. (And ah! I knew Viserys would try to wedge himself there. He sacrificed too much for his supposed prophecy baby to let it go). But (and this is the one dynamic that fascinates me the most) Rhaenyra is going to go through it.

Rhaenyra is such an interesting character at 15. She's a princess, the only child of the King for the longest time and yet, for the longest time she's also not the heir. She's only expected to be married off. Rhaenyra grows up spoiled in that way that all privileged kids do without even realizing it as they're living it. Especially with how isolated and protected she is. She's the youngest dragonrider, the King's eldest and oldest daughter. A daughter he indulges and adores. She's surrounded by people clamoring for her favour if only by virtue of how much the King values his daughter. And yet, she's not a boy. So she grows up spoiled and a little bratty but also deeply insecure of her father's love and with some self-esteem issues. Because yes, she's all that she is but she's not a boy and she's reminded of this fact every time she sees her mother's suffering. All to get that desired male heir.

I don't think Rhaenyra at this point desires to be Queen, even after being named heir. She certainly doesn't make any moves to work for it. What she desperately wants is what being heir means to her, the public declaration from her father tha actually, yes, she is enough. She's loved and trusted and irreplaceable. And also, the power that it would give her that I am sure, in her mind, translates to freedom.

And I think that's why she has this big crush on Daemon. Because Daemon is the one person who gives 0 shits that she is not a boy from the get go. And yes, Daemon sometimes does shit and is not on her side but it's easy to blame that on Viserys and Otto, especially with th constant exiles. She can explain his absence away. But also, when Daemon is around she is used to being his priority. Slightly under Viserys but that's normal, Viserys is King. And Daemon, because he's coming and going and because he knows whatever position he holds is temporary and that exile is coming his way sooner or later, probably focuses on her the same way any visiting family member focuses on the children and family they're visiting while they're there. He indulges her, showers her with gifts, makes her feel important for Rhaenyra and not as the daughter of the King.

And he's sweet with his babies! She probably was looking at this man and sighing about could have beens and then Viserys orders their marriage. Or agrees when she proposes it. However it comes to be, now Rhaenyra has the one man she wanted and thinks cares about her for her.

Except Daemon loves her, but he fell in love with the Rhaenyra that was already a woman. A mother who had to fight for and protect her children, her position in court, her situation, etc. And he is going to see this Rhaenyra and see a child, rightfully so. I don't think Rhaenyra is blind to the fact that his babies will be grieving and I think she's going to be sympathetic but I also recognize that this is a 15 year old and she is probably going to expect Daemon to be as attentive and focused on her as he was before, even if it's in a subconscious way. But Daemon is now a single father to 2 grieving children and he has to focus on that. With Jon being Rhea's heir and Daemon having better standing and better memories in Runestone, he's probably going to be Jon's regent. Which means that Rhaenyra, as his wife, should move with this brand new little family to Runestone. Runestone is likely amazing but it is not the Red Keep and it doesn't have the luxuries that the King can afford.

So now you have Daemon, whose priorities are going to be his children, their emotional well being and preserving both their protection and their inheritance. And yes, he loves Rhaenyra and will likely help her and indulge her as much as he can but it's a far cry from a Daemon who could dedicate his entire time to Rhaenyra and her father since he didn't really have other responsibilities. And these babies are probably going to be kind to her but I don't think they're going to be overly welcoming or happy either, their mother just died and they and their father are grieving. And yet Viserys imposed this new stepmother/wife on them. (I wonder if Rhaenyra makes parallels between herself and Alicent in this). And on top of that, she's having to move to a brand new castle which is something that she resented when marriage was talked about before and she maybe thought she could avoid with Daemon. And this castle is a downsize, smaller, less luxuries for her to indulge in.

In short, she is going to struggle. But at the same time, she gets to learn with safety wheels. Daemon has been a stay at home dad and he likely will try to keep up with his care of his children at the same time as he does the lord's work which is going to be another mess. But there's no reason why he can't delegate the lady's work to Rhaenyra. And Rhaenyra is going to have to learn to do her job outside of a Targaryen seat of power but with Daemon and his babies as backup. No more filling men's cups and listening as they talk, now she has tangible responsibilities and tangible results for her successes and missteps.

It's almost like Rhaenyra would get a going to college arc.

DearCat! Hi hi! I still think of you whenever I write a Viserys-Daemon scene, praying for your blood pressure. 😂 I really must know which one has been the most aggravating to read so far!

Okay, onto the actual ask...

College arc, I love the way you put it! Both Viserys and Rhaenyra have this blind spot of "because it has been decreed and sworn to, the succession will be honored." And perhaps it might have been! But because Rhaenyra is so hands-off with being the heir (something that Viserys encourages by refusing to involve her at all in the administering of the realm and even discouraging it when she's younger and curious about trying), the lords of the realm don't feel any particular loyalty or confidence toward her. Which leads to her starting from behind when she begins realizing she must fight for it later. It's already an uphill battle at that point.

Whereas pushing her out of her comfort zone earlier like you've laid out gives her those opportunities much sooner. It's not like Dragonstone, where the steward is so accustomed to running the place 90% of the time that she can treat it more as a vacation/refuge like she is currently in Resonant. (She does assume her duties while she's there, but even in chapter nine, when we last saw her, her primary motivation was just to escape KL to grieve alone.)

As you said, Reverb!Rhaenyra will feel that shift in Daemon's perspective and want to earn his respect/attention, and that may lead to her finding that she takes pride in earning the respect of the people she's helping rule over. Her failures won't be in the unforgiving spotlight of the Red Keep, so she can learn much more peacefully. And hopefully at some point, if/when they start spending more time in King's Landing, her success and confidence can help them push Viserys to expand her duties in the eyes of the realm. Why not put her on the small council?

And, I mean, it's also huge not to be starting from a place of "the king's heir is an evil whore with vile bastards." (The nature of her second falling out with Alicent is an interesting one in this AU-AU. Her lying about her maidenhead to Alicent seemed to be one major turning point, one that allowed Alicent to start shifting her into the category of sinner/enemy.) Her own eventual babies will be pretty indisputably hers and Daemon's, especially if she ends up with a set of twins somewhere in there.

(In the version where Rhea ends up dying in this AU, I think it would be around when the twins are 2-4, so that would put Rhaenyra at 16-18. Which will still feel quite young to Daemon, compared to the Rhaenyra he loved, but a good age range for the college arc.)

It's also interesting to think about what flips the switch for Rhaenyra from "this makes me important/relevant to my father" to "I want to be queen" and when. And what role Daemon has to play in it. And what different challenges they end up facing from the Greens.

[obislittleone]

Tw: suicidal thoughts (don't be alarmed I'm just venting)

I am so tired. I am so worn out. It doesn't matter what I say. It doesn't matter what I do. I have been financially and physically giving to Palestinians and Israelis who have been injured and were innocent victims through this war. The organization my family and I are working with has done so much to try and save lives. I have done all I can possibly do, but it's not enough. Those of you who drop in my dms or my asks to call me a 'genocidal colonizer' are so truly lost. I hope you all get help, because the amount of hate I've seen against not only myself but against literally every Jew I know is absolutely abominable. Don't say 'from the river from the sea' unless you know what it means, and if you say it, don't say it to a jew. You may hate Israel, and you may even think that all the people there deserve to die, but have you ever taken into consideration that the innocent Jews of either Israel or the rest of the world have nothing to do with their government or the mistreatment of Palestinians? Did you ever once think before you commented on a Jews post to 'wipe Israel off the face of the earth'? Chances are you did not. Chances are also that if you did, you probably just hate jews. Don't comment any bullshit on this post, I'll just remove it. I'm not here to fight anymore, I'm just here to say a few words, and give a perspective to those who think I'm some devil worshipping satanist just because I'm jewish.

These are the asks in my inbox on the daily:

Do you have any idea how this mentally affects a person? Do you even know how horrifying it is to know that so many people want you dead? I've had run ins with depression and suicidal attempts and thoughts my entire life, but never have I been this influenced by outer forces into thinking that I should be dead. Never once has anyone encouraged me to pull a trigger or off myself. Not until this has happened.

The comments and reblogs on posts about my best friend who lived in Israel, and her mother (who is arab, btw) that was killed in the October 7th attack are beyond wild. I can't even imagine how crazy it must be to live in the middle east as a jew. This is only a fraction of the hate that I experience in my day to day life, now.

The middle fingers I get from pissed off passersby at Walmart because I wear a star of david, or the slurs I get called because I told someone I had to leave an event early for Shabbat. It's all hatred, and it all sucks.

The violence, and the aggression that innocent jews are getting from random people who hate them. The little old man who stood on a street corner and held a sign in protest of Jewish hate that was killed today by a pro-hamas protestor. Its all too overwhelming. Why? Because even if you choose not to see it, or even if you condone it and think its 'not that bad', Jewish hate is getting dangerously close to what it was during the time of the holocaust. What's worse? It's being praised. Not just accepted, but encouraged. I posted on my instagram asking for prayers over my friend who's having to hide in a bomb shelter because of the war. The amount of comments saying 'just let her die' were astounding.

I have to ask you, where is your humanity? When jews can not only feel compassion but openly support Palestinians and try and give their services to save their innocent women and children from dying in the war, where is your compassion for innocent jews? Where is your willingness to feel an ounce of sadness for the loss of a life? Are you so hateful that you will condemn a teenage girl to die because of the violence her government commits? And if it happens, will you be so heartless that you will praise the notion that she is dead?

A common phrase used when I ask pro-hamas bloggers what their stance is on the beheading of children or the raping of women is, it usually comes out as: "well what do you think declonization looked like?"

I am always shocked. Every. Single. Time... why? Because I hope with every shred of naivete i have in me that people who have lost so much will understand the pain of those who are also losing so much. When you condemn one government for killing your children, and bringing a genocide upon Palestinians, why do you not also condemn the murdering of children and innocent Jews? Is it because 'that's not your team?' Is it because you want to win so badly that you don't care what the cost is? Do you think that turning into the thing that killed your people will make you a hero? The only thing I can possibly think of that would make a person respond that way is bloodlust. When you condemn an entire nation (including the innocent people) of killing your own, then turn around and do the same thing to their innocents, do you think you've proved something?

Whenever I address these things I'm usually met with the same stuff about how I'm a Jew so I'm biased and I don't get to have an opinion... but I don't think it's fair to say that to someone who's literally living with the repercussions that your hate is causing. Don't tell me to be quiet if you're spreading nazi rhetoric about jews and telling people to kill us.

Again, don't bring any bullshit on here. It will be deleted, and you will be blocked. I've spoken my piece. If anyone is interested in learning more about the organization I work with and donating to help Palestinian and Israeli families getting caught in the crossfire, please drop me a message, I'd be glad to give you more information.

[anonymous-dentist]

Guys I finally figured out why Abueloier has never bothered me in the same way he bothers a lot of people

So when I was a little kid, my dad would come into my room and tell me bedtime stories, but he’d always do it as characters he knew I’d be terrified of

Like there was Spider, which was his hand “talking” and crawling all over me while reading while he fully knew that I was TERRIFIED of spiders (and I still am lol)

And then there was the Creepy Old French Man, who was, as you’d guess, a creepy old French man. My dad would walk into the room all hunched over and making creepy comments about people dying in my bedroom and then he’d sit in the chair by my bed and read me our usual bedtime story of a Theodore Roosevelt biography, all with a terrible French accent and while telling me just how many dead people were in my bedroom at the time

Abueloier is just the Mexican version of the Creepy Old French Man who’d tell me bedtime stories as a child, so of course he doesn’t bug me

[xiaosonlybeloved]

~how would they propose to you~

featuring- Childe, Ayato warnings- use of the name 'dearest', fluff , a kiss in Ayato's (giving yall a break before i write the TRUE angst ;P) a/n- yes yes I am writing the zhongli angst but gimme some time for that, ill be posting that uh in march end sometime.

masterlist

CHILDE

-the type to book an entire high-end restaurant -he spares no expense on the atmosphere of the date where he's gonna propose -the dim yellow lighting, tablecloths, candelabras, every possible type of dish you'd love, all your favorite desserts, everything (u can tell i love those kinda dates) -by the time you arrive at the restaurant, Childe is already waiting there for you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. To say he looks gorgeous in his expensive suit is a freaking understatement. -he'd charmingly give you the bouquet, before proposing old style, the way royals did it and all- he'd go down on one knee, take out a small box from his front pocket which contains the most beautiful and elegent ring you could ever hope to receive from anyone -he want to make sure he isnt outshone by anyone else in your life -he wouldn't go into a long speech or smth, but he would clearly express the utter love and adoration he held for you before asking you to marry him, hope and uncertainty evident in his gaze. This man has a way with words I tell you -how the hell could you not accept -after that he's the happiest man alive as you two share your first dinner as an engaged couple

AYATO

-you know how pretty Chinju forest is at night, right? with all the glowing plants and stuff -well his would be a night date. firstly Ayato would make sure that every monster camp that could possibly disturb their date was sent into oblivion -then with Thoma's help, he'd find this cozy little grove of trees covered in those luminescent plants -he'd set it up like a small picnic/resting spot, with blankets and LOTS of cushions and pillows and delish food and whatnot -it would be the perfect spot to just bask in each other's presence -he'd obviously dress up to his best that night, and he'd escort you all the way to his special place to ensure your safety - as the night goes on, the plants around lighting up a light blue and the stars filling the sky and the glowbugs all around, as you both simply relish each other's warmth and presence, he suddenly turns to you -taking each of your hands in his, he stares into your eyes for a few moments before quietly speaking up, expressing how much he loves you, how you're the brightest light in his life and other romantic mushy stuff -it's not too long tho, and in the end he says, "So, my dearest, would you do me the honors of marrying me?" -as he says that, his hands leave yours to open a small ring box that was resting in his pocket till now. There is doubt in his eyes, that perhaps you'll refuse, but also hope that you'll accept -after you get over your shock, you give him a bright smile and ask him how could you possibly not accept his proposal. -with a smile that matches yours' brightness, he slips the ring onto your ring finger before cupping each of your cheeks with his hands and pressing a soft kiss onto your lips.

whew i just keep disappearing dont I? likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated! (not me writing this literally at midnight) Anyways I'm planning to write a Childe x reader enemies to lovers skater smau, what are your opinions? also omg help me im dying bc of my final exams i swear-

[demonkinguwu]

FANFICTION PROGRESS

This is an update since I'm back in a mental space where I can start writing again. [A bit of my personal thoughts at the end] I am continuing all of my current fics, none will be abandoned but some will be on a long hiatus before I get to them, so I'm sorry for the delay on those, but I'll most likely fix the aus they are based on. Now for the statuses of those:

The Witch Bride and The Groom Ghost: I will most definitely be finishing this one in the next coming year, I have been plotting it out and have all the chapter drafts finished. However, I will most likely be moving the chapter upload from once a week to once every two weeks due to the chapter length [boy they are long jdsknf] and my work schedule picking up. Art will added later on.

Subcon Waltz: This will most likely take a while for me to revisit, mostly because I am plotting out the chapters and reworking most of it, no drafts have been done as of yet but I have a pretty good idea of where the story is headed. Plus this has been a story I've been wanting to get back to since it's been in the works for so long, it's a nice mix of the fairytale tropes, horror, and that good old Subcon dark humor lol. I really come to love it :>

How To Be a Loving Family: This is definitely one that will take me the longest to get back to work with due to the amount of rework that I'll do with the AU. A lot of it going to change from what I had in mind but it's for the sake of feeling comfortable with it. That said, once again, the current chapters will be reworked a little at a later point once I have a clear idea of the reworked AU.

I'm also working on 2 new fics not yet to be announced but they're being worked on behind the scenes on occasion. Thank you so much for sticking with me on these, your kudos and comments are appreciated!

A bit of a personal journey with writing these fics

Last year hit me pretty hard, I experienced big-time burnout. I wasn't really capable of doing much that I felt I like doing artwise, especially with writing. I only did doodles on discord but aside from the occasional post, not much else.

Back then, rereading my old writing, my old rps from the old servers I was in, I just cringed at how bad I was. I don't consider myself a good writer, heck even now I'm so-so on my writing, but reading back on my old stuff, man I feel like I kissed a lemon dkjnfddf I was pretty bad and writing felt off to me since then. I did still do private oneshots but I couldn't get back to writing these series. The thing about the Hat Mom AU and the Subcon Waltz AU fics being felt in the dust was that I wasn't as invested in A hat in time much, it was just a mix of my hyperfixation on the series dying off, the fics not being ironed and plotted out properly [Literally didn't plan a thing on Subcon Waltz and just winged it out impluse] and the fandom drama had drained me [Yeah, remember the whole Vanessa hating asks I got? Yeah those certainly didn't help with my mood at the time]

The only reason I got back into writing at all was due to how invested I grew in TGOGM but it didn't have that many fics at the time so I decided to throw my hat into the ring with my own au. By then I learned how to properly plan out chapters and writing and remembered I was just doing this for fun, I wasn't being paid to do this so I could take my time with this.

Eventually, I applied this mindset to my other fics and aus once I got back into ahit, these are my aus/fics, I can rewrite them if I don't like them. So that's what I'm doing right now, just taking the hammer, smashing stuff and just fixing them into something I like. Because at the end of the day, I'm not really a popular artist nor have a grand story everyone is invested in, I'm just a silly little creator with my own silly ideas that I choose to share with the world. If they like it, then poggers!!! I will cry and sob for weeks over a nice comment dkjnfds If not, well, I like this, and maybe one day someone else will too :>

I know this is long but I just needed to share my thoughts out there alongside telling you guys they're not dead, they're just being fixed with the hammer lol :> If you read this far, thank you for reading this madness fdnjf I'll try to get these to a place a like while taking my time in doing so uwu

[strangebutcher]

Hobart || A Spider-Punk one-shot

[W/C] 325

summary: a stupid ass drabble of Y/N making fun of Hobie’s name

content: poor attempt at British slang, British people with silly names, gender-neutral reader, Miles Morales being a Hobie anti, and literally just stupid shit.

A/N: this was going to be an xreader, but nah. This is also probably the worst thing I’ve ever written lol. Not proofread

“You’re telling me…you’re sayin’ you don’t conform to labels and you still kept the name Hobart? (..) You got hoe in your name either way and you kept that shit?” Y/N was laughing their ass off as they spoke, quite literally on their knees and holding their gut as an attempt to calm their laughter(it wasn’t working out that well). Hobie on the other hand has his hands stuffed in his vest as he stared down at them, he clearly wasn’t as amused as they were, it only became worse when Miles joined in. 

“Your name is Hobart?” His brows furrowed as he tried to suppress a laugh, though his face was contorting in hilarity. He was extremely amused. You’re telling me he was jealous over some old man named Hobart? Bro doesn’t even have a moanable name.

“Is that like a British thing? Naming people stupid ass names?” Y/N asks again, suppressing their laugh for a few seconds before falling back to the floor again, tears rolling down their cheeks. Maybe you’ve never seen someone roll on the ground in such a state before, hell maybe you’ve never even almost peed because you laugh too hard, but at the moment Y/N was caught in one of those inescapable laughs. Anything and everything would be funny until they ran out of juice. 

“Yeah, laugh it up now, ain’t gonna be funny next time you’re fighten Miguel and I leave, is it?” Hobie’s comment only seems to fuel the fire. Y/N is dying in the floor, Miles is silently cackling, and Hobie is…not exactly pissed off, but he should be right about now. He sneers at the two of them, already clicking on his watch ready to head out.

“No-no, don’t leave, who else am I supposed to make fun of?” Y/N asks, though they can barely leave through their laughter. As they finish their sentence Hobie is already through the portal back to his earth. 

[lady-phasma]

Hello there, I loved your previous answer to an anon question and you made a comment about your previous experience of getting attached to characters or people because of loneliness and depression. Please can I ask how you overcome that and what perspective you had about this? How did you frame it in your mind? 🥰🥰🥰 I have never really experienced this before and I’m not why but I get happy and then feel sadness because I know im projecting and it’s not real. In my real life I’m pretty confident but I would like to start dating and meeting someone but have a crush on a character or actor has been easier than going out there and approaching people I like. Any advice would be brilliant. Also I have felt that when it has come to people like EM etc the stories about how they actually got there and the way in which they have made sacrifices and had challenges gets glossed over. It’s always look at how well they have done which is right, but not it’s taken lots of hard work and lots of rejections and learning behind closed doors to get them in this position. The glamorisation of actors can be really off putting for me as it’s amazing that they are getting the credit they deserve but the toil to get there is rarely mentioned.

Hi anon! I think this is the ask you are referring to. Thank you. 💜 I'm glad you enjoyed it. Let me tell you today turned out to be the day to ask this. We have gotten so many Ewan crumbs today. It's honestly a bit overwhelming.

I'm going to start with: your emotions are not weird or uncommon! The first thing we have to do is be compassionate with ourselves. I have a couple moots who needed some distance this week, not because of drama, just to be in the real world more and less overwhelmed. I spent half of Sunday without any technology so I could give my brain a break. So do your absolute best to be compassionate toward yourself.

Next, regarding this:

you made a comment about your previous experience of getting attached to characters or people because of loneliness and depression. Please can I ask how you overcome that and what perspective you had about this? How did you frame it in your mind?

This answer will be quite long, settle in. I will use some healthier examples from my Matt Smith fandom and a couple from back when I had a harder time coping. The timing does overlap in my life a bit because Matt has been part of my life since he and I were 25-26 years old (I phrased it like that even though it's odd, because I want people to understand that most of what I am going to be discussing was before I turned 30).

I think this is the comment you were talking about:

lady-phasma: Oh man I have had attachments in the past, at points in my life that could have become obsessions because of loneliness or depression (not applying that to this anon) and have had to take a step back and think "okay I actually don't know this person!"

That's the context here's the first part of the answer. Cognitive behavioral therapy helped a lot. Not for the attachments to actors/public figures, but for what was actually going on with me (which I'm not going to go into too much detail about). My sister and I call these actors "emotional support actors" (gender neutral). There have been times that it wasn't the actor, but a specific character which helped me through a difficult time. When I was in a slowly-dying relationship, Ryan Gosling helped me feel less alone through roles like Drive and Crazy, Stupid Love. I want to be clear that I am not discussing parasocial relationships exactly (here's an article about those that is fairly unbiased). I don't have a problem discussing them and I have possibly unpopular opinions about them, but that's a distinction I wanted to make here. I consumed all the Ryan Gosling content I could for over two years and his movies helped me during my breakup (yes, the relationship ended, thank fuck).

The way that I "overcame" it was by reframing the actor/character in my mind as a tool or coping mechanism (I was thrilled you said "frame" btw). In the recent past I said to a moot "these internet men are going to kill me." That made them laugh because "these internet men" are real people. I have even made posts about that. However, that is one of my ways of creating distance. The Ryan Gosling I learned about, watched every interview of, watched nearly his entire body of work, is not Ryan Gosling and never will be. Neither is Matt or Pedro or Ewan or Gwendoline Christie or any of them. So now, I think of them as tools that I use to give myself some comfort during a difficult time when it starts to escalate.

This is where I'll use Matt as an example because I have been able to do this with him since day one. I have written about it briefly before, the Eleventh Doctor showed up at a time in my life that was very difficult. I had no idea I needed him. It turns out the part was played by a gorgeous and talented actor. I know now that I can turn to Matt's films/tv shows for comfort and keep my emotional distance because, in many ways, he is a figment of my imagination. I'll note here that I also no longer consume detailed personal facts about actors. I know a lot of people enjoy that but outside of knowing things Matt has said in interviews and his birthday and height I have no clue who he dates and when. No idea where he likes to vacation or grab a pint. This applies to any actor I like: the less I know, the better. That helps me from thinking that I know them. (I hope I explained that well.)

As you said, a projection. Watching his Doctor Who episodes is the same as a weighted blanket. It is comforting, self-care, and gives me space to not think.

I'm going to tie this into your other main question:

In my real life I’m pretty confident but I would like to start dating and meeting someone but have a crush on a character or actor has been easier than going out there and approaching people I like.

Ask any moot who knows me well and they can tell you I have a personal rule: if I start to have daydreams about meeting Matt I shut that shit down fast. And I mean fast. As soon as I realize I've done it I stop, take a step back, and use my self-awareness to isolate what I need in that moment. Am I lonely, hungry, overwhelmed, tired, anxious? This is personal boundary for me. I love daydreams but I want to maintain my on-going fangirling for Matt as long as possible. This approach works for me because maybe I need to text a friend or do some yoga or even get on a dating app. We can't always identify what the need is but it helps me to try. I am confident as well and have had lots of partners when I have the energy to put into those interactions. I don't always have that energy. I know why it's easier for me to crush/fangirl though this may not be your reason: I don't have to give up a single aspect of my life to another person, I don't have to be vulnerable because these are completely one sided situations. Matt will never ask me to meet his mom. Ewan will never need me to pick him up if he has a flat time. My time and my energy remain my own.

I don't have any kind of advice really. I'm aroallo and omnisexual and a cis female and you might be absolutely none of those things so my advice wouldn't help. But, human to human, pay attention to what you feel you are missing in your life and decide if you need to make it happen or if you can feel at peace without it. That is a question we have to ask over and over through our lives because we change so much.

I wish I had time to talk about the last bit you mentioned because it is important that we humanize actors and understand their struggles but I have gone on longer than most people will read. 💕 Thank you for coming to me, anon. I'm always here.

Just in case you decide to come back I gave you 📸 anon (because it felt appropriate and fun for fandom stuff) but feel free to pick your own if you don't like that.

[gay-dorito-dust]

due to some Enid and Wednesday art I was spurred into watching it and if you're accepting requests (I got really excited seeing you write for it and didn't scroll down too far) could you write something where Enid meets an introverted new girl and they're just smitten with her immediately?

if someone like her came up to me and wanted to be friends I'd just. follow her sunshine to the end of the rainbow man. gay arrow to the heart. also fluffy werewolf gf is such bonus

The moment you stepped foot on school grounds, you were physically sickened with anxiety and dread, your throat closed in on itself as your stomach decided to loose all forms of appetite. You didn’t want to be here but through threats and force, your parents made you attend Nevermore in hopes of gaining a tolerable level of control over your powers that had only became a problem in recent memory. That was what they wanted you to believe but you knew about their ulterior motive of riding you from the house you cooped yourself in and actively engage with others of your age and situation.

You awkwardly stood at the entrance hall like a sitting duck, waiting to be shot, looking about the grand room that smelt as old as it looked as you waited for your poor unfortunate tour guide to arrive. Throughout the duration of your wait, You must’ve been either bored beyond belief or lost within the chaos of your mind because by the time you stopped counting the individual specs of dust that coated the picture frames along the the walls; A pretty blonde girl with the tips dyed in a kaleidoscope of colours and prettily painted nails was stood before you with a beaming smile.

How and when she had gotten there, you weren’t sure but you weren’t exactly against the idea of a really pretty blonde girl with an equally as pretty smile showing you around school. It certainly beats be lead by a pervert or someone with a penchant for passive aggressive comments in your books, so who were you to complain? “Hi!” She chirped and you immediately felt the cold crushing grip of anxiety ease up at the sound of her warm, serene voice as the tension in your shoulder muscles fell back into a relaxed state. “Hi…” you trailed off, not use to being a conversation starter nor continue one long enough for people to develop in getting to know you more.

You preferred to follow then lead…also you had a definitive weakness for extremely pretty girls. “I’m Enid Sinclair and if what principle Weems tells me is right, then you must be y/n.” It was obvious that Enid has a talent for having to talk for a multitude of people who don’t want to exhaust themselves in idle conversation or have no capacity to speak whatsoever. Which was a bonus for you, seeing as social interactions were never your strong suit, however Enid didn’t seem to be the most observant of a person’s character; You on the other hand had a knack for keen observation which meant that your style of approach subconsciously adjust itself when within proximity of certain people of certain caricatures.

“I am y/n, that is she- I mean me.” Your little awkward slip up made Enid smile and you swore you felt reality as you know it take a step back to observe her beautiful, beautiful smile. ‘God how much more enteral could this girl get.’ You wondered internally as she fell in pace with you whilst giving her tour of the school that you were barely paying any attention towards because firstly, how could you when someone as pretty as her was walking so closely to you and smelling that good? It made no logical sense! You believed at one point that your mind was playing cruel tricks on you becuase whenever you attempted to give yourself a little space from Enid; Only for the girl to move just a little closer to you that the fabric of your purple striped blazers were rubbing up on one another.

You even had to check you pulse at one point to make sure you hadn’t accidentally died and gone to heaven. “Oh I forgot to show you the coolest part of Nevermore!” Your breath caught in your throat as Enid grabs ahold of your arm and redirects you down the hallway past several ongoing classes; past the quad where some students were huddled together, actively skipping their least favoured lessons to let themselves loose. “Hey Enid! Hey new kid!” One of them called, a boy of quite moderate height, a nice smile and a beanie that rests atop of his head. “Hey Ajax!” Enid called back cheerfully, her grip on your arm tightened as she pulled you closer to her side which only proved in making your brain short circuit at the contact. “This is y/n, I’m just showing them them around school!”

“Hey there.” You awkwardly waved at the boy who waved backed vigorously. You had to admit, while Ajax may lack social awareness skills, he was certainly making his way up on your short list of people to go to should you ever feel lost amidst the chaos that you were soon recognising this school to be. “Well have fun you two and don’t run headfirst to the lake fully clothed. Take it from me, it’s super cold dude.” Ajax advised but before you could ask where that penitent fact came from, Enid began to drag you away once more. “He’s high.” She whispered in your ear, her warm breath brushing against your skin, causing your breath to stifle at the closeness, “they all are, actually.” She adds as she looked back at the quad as it began shying away into the background.

“Ajax seems nice.” You offhandedly mentioned. I know right!” Enid squeals excitedly, “sooo nice in comparison to my dorm mate, she’s a real ‘wow is me’ type.” The blonde must’ve seen your apprehensive stance and grimaced, “as bad as I make her out to be, she’s really cool and I think you’d both will get along just fine.” Enid attempts to rectify your view on Wednesday, already having caught on the fact that you weren’t going to be keen towards certain people at Nevermore. She could tell that you’d warm up to the likes of her and Ajax overtime which meant that you’d get along well enough with Xavier, however his popularity might be a drawback for you; Wednesday on the other hand, in Enid’s opinion, was the perfect for someone like you.

“Why? Is it because we both come across as unapproachable or too uninteresting to get to know on a deeper level?” You scoffed, “Yeah sure, we’ll get along just fine.” You added sarcastically as you looked away from Enid to hide the hurt in your eyes at the insinuation that the prettiest and most kindest girl you’ve ever met was throwing you away, to becoming someone else’s problem. You should’ve known that you could never trust a pretty face, no matter how kindly they acted; for it will always be a farce. Enid pulled herself away from your side and moved in front of you, putting her hands on your shoulders as her hurt expression mimicked your own.

“I didn’t mean it like that y/n. It’s just that you and Wednesday share similar qualities that I thought you’d be better off being better friends with someone who understands you rather then someone like me…” the blonde trails off, saddened that you couldn’t help but feel the urge to comfort her, you hated being the reason she frowned and you’d found yourself wanting to make her smile that bright smile again, anything. “If it’s of any value to you but as far as I’m aware, we already get along quite well…don’t you think?” You smiled softly at her, resting your hands against Enid’s shoulders, rubbing them comfortingly as you watched the emotions in her eyes shift from upset, confusion, then realisation, and finally happy.

“You really think we could work?” She asked as a smile crept up unexpectedly upon her lips that you had to snap yourself out of staring at them for longer then a friend should. “Oh most definitely,” You hummed in agreement and at that, Enid squealed happily before roping you into a crushing hug, her cutesy giggles purposely finding their home right in your ears as you stiffly moved your arms across her waist. “I’m so happy right now y/n, you have no idea!” She cried, tightening her grasp on your blazer as you rest your heads against the others shoulder. “If it’s anything akin to how I’m feeling right now, then I think I might have some idea.” You replied, a smile growing on your face as you stayed in each other’s embrace; You might actually get use to Nevermore.

[honestmouse20]

okay now that all 10 episodes are out on youtube in english, Ful lthoughts on monkie kid s5! spoilers under the cut :)

So, the big one. I really hardly notice the chance in animiation studio. I still see people being upset about it and saying its worse. But if no one had told me, I wouldn't have noticed.

On to the Fun stuff (pain)

This season is so freaking heartbeaking yall. Like MK has always felt like things were His fault, that he was bringing the chaos to the world. And then his Worst fear comes true. Nyua tells him that she created him For that reason. He exists for taht sacrafice and the demon (what's his name? the guy at the end?) only sped things up. Woke him up early. That's Insane! He really is the beginning of the end. And even when he Tried to do the right thing, sacrafice himself so everyone else would be safe, the universe/gods/whatever still were going to take his sacrafice and rewrite the world again anyway. And that's what Gets me about this season. Bc yeah MK listens at first and sacrafices himself. But the seccond he learns they've been pulling his strings this whole time and that his friends Won't be safe, he realizes taht he's still in control. He goes back to spend their last moments with his family and That ends up being waht saves everything. They share the power and prove that they don't need someone else calling every shot. it's just... a Lot for a lego show and im so so pleased with it.

Second thing! Uh we need to talk about Wukong in episode 9 and 10 bc oooh boy. NOt only was the man who was Terrified of dying to the point of becoming multiple times over imortal and taking his name out of the book of the dead WILLING to die so that MK wouldn't. But he fought MK with what I am assuming was his full power for the first time. MK wasn't holding back either. And that means a lot I think. MK is finally stronger (or maybe AS strong as him). Also the fact that MK used the circlet on him guts me everytime.

Also, adding onto the whole Wukong those last two episodes. What the Hell were those screams when MK 'dies'??? I have never heard something like that in a lego show. it gave me Chills. Like I fully expected him to yk get angry get Mean again but not just LIke That. That was so real sounding. Props to his va bc Shit dudes

third thing! Speaking of VA's god MK's was doing Just as good. All those little moments where his voice wavers as he comes to belive that sacraficing himself is the only way. God and the way his voice sounds as he tells Piggsy that 'jsut because it's hard doesn't mean it's not the right thing' (or something along those lines). This season Hurt me so much yall. Especially as MK chose to come back and Wukong catches him. And he just keeps telling him he's okay??? PAIN??

Oh and at the end when MK is just crying??? IM fine. Yep. His voice actor really nailed all of this. 10/10

Fourth thing! I said it in my other post but uhhhh Macaque?? He sacrafices himself Twice in this season. First into the Pagoda and then by using up a lot of his strength getting them all out of those bindings so SWK can save MK. For all their bickering this season (some might say like an old married couple) Maqaque and Wukong really do seem to be making up yk? and i mean not to mention at the end when they all think it's over and Wukong reaches for him????

Fifth! Are we gonna talk about the memory demon thign showing Wukong The fight with Macaque???? Like of all the shitty/awful things he's done and lived through, That is what the demon shows him to hurt him the most. And it is the Most painful thing bc MK's is all about his monkie side and sacraficing himself. And that's His biggest fear. SO it makes sense that Wukong( and the others) were shown Their worst memories. And yk the fact taht after he's cut free there are Tears in his eyes??? god Im gonna have to watch this season a few more times to pick out all the little details cause the tears thing I only noticed bc someone pointed it out in the comments on the video i was watching.

Final thoughts lol

This season was Incredible! Not only did everything MK has been through Finally catch up with him, something they've been hinting at since s1, but it did in a very satisfying way. I was on the edge of my seat all through the 9th and 10th episodes. I genuinly didn't know who was gonna do the sacrafice. And then when MK jumpped in, I was in awe bc this is a lego show. They wouldn't kill the main charcter. But I really like how they got around that. BC it doesn't Feel like getting around it. It feels like the thing mk Would have done. IF the goddess had told him that his friends were safe, MK would have stayed. 100%. The way his voice breaks as his knees give out when he realizes (incorectly) that they're safe. He'd have died to save them. The only reason he comes back is bc it was a pointless sacrafice.

The season as a whole was also really good. I was a bit confused why it was so easy for MK to get al the stones but then it was revealed that it was Meant to be. This was supposed to be his destiny so things litterally fell into his lap. That was a really nice touch I think. I also really loved all the character interactions! Piggsy calling him son Repeatedly. MK saying he has a ton of dads. Just. Big emphasis on family and i Can't Wait to see how MK's almost sacrafice is gonna change things in following seasons! Bc that was a suicide attempt guys. He saw a world better without him in it and tried to die. if you take away all the fancy wording that's what it is. And ik lego would never yk Say that. but they're already tackling bigger themes than they have before (in this show and dreams and ninjago) so I have faith that they'll go somewhere with this too. Clearly Mk is still terrified and hurt by everything so I really hope eveyrone will come together to try and help him through all this. And yk the next big bad. Can Chaos be a big bad??? I'm so excited for S6!

[raineandsky]

#20

The prince decided pretty fast that he despises his father’s taste. The man had been insistent that his son take a protector with him on his journey to the next kingdom over, and assigned the most over the top knight in his guard to do it.

The prince’s first meeting with that knight was four years ago. Now they’re both stuck in a wasteland, wandering aimlessly between ruined cities in the hopes of scavenging some scraps to live off. It’s not the future he’d dreamed of when he imagined his place as a king, but it’s the future he’s stuck with for the foreseeable.

“Night will be falling soon, my liege,” the knight pipes up brightly, and the prince tips his head to give the other man an incredulous grimace. The knight doesn’t even react, well used to the prince’s cold attitude, and presses on regardless. “It would do us good to find shelter soon.”

“Where was that barn we were in the other night? The one with the little hole in the door?”

The knight momentarily glances out over the world they’re walking through. The environment is flattened, with only beige ghosts of the greenery remaining. The place is admittedly a little depressing. “We’re walking away from it, my liege.”

Directions have never been the prince’s strong suit. “We’ll find something this way, then.”

The knight nods shortly, and the prince knows he’s having to hold his tongue to not tease him for his lack of knowledge. Back in the day he’d have asked his father to have the man executed for his insolence, but times have changed. This knight has avidly defended his life on more than one occasion, especially when the world originally ended, and the prince isn’t stupid enough to truly want him gone just yet. It’s just annoying that he has to put up with him for guaranteed survival.

“Why’ve you stuck around?” the prince asks suddenly, and the knight’s brow creases into a confused frown. “You’ve not really been on duty for the past four years.”

“It’s what your father requested of me,” he says almost immediately, the words falling out in a perfectly rehearsed line. It makes sense; it’s what he always says when the prince probes him for a truthful answer.

“I’m pretty sure my father has been dead for four years,” he retorts, and he doesn’t miss the flash of apprehension across the other’s face at his bluntness. “You don’t serve him anymore.”

“And who was the next in line?” The knight gives him a smile, slightly subdued with uncertainty. “I am still serving a king.”

An involuntary laugh bubbles out of the prince. “I don’t think a monarchy has existed since my father fell. I’m about average as you nowadays.”

“I wouldn’t call myself average, my liege. I was the top of my class in training.”

“I know. It’s why you got lumbered with me instead of entering the End War and dying in a blaze of glory.”

The knight grins more freely. “Thank the goddesses for that, huh?”

It’s the prince’s turn to wear a confused frown. “Wouldn’t you rather be–”

“A town!” The knight’s cry cuts straight across him, and he adds it to the tally of things he’d have gotten him seized for back in the good old days. “Down there!”

Sure enough, there’s a small cluster of houses over the brow of the hill they’re standing on. Most of the buildings look intact, with hopefully fewer holes in the roof than last night’s find. 

“Good timing,” the prince comments, glancing into the sky and immediately regretting it as his eyes lock with the setting sun. “Please go and check for murderers, dearest knight.”

“Anything for you, my liege,” the knight replies with a playful smile, before turning to continue down the hill alone. The prince watches him go, double checking his surroundings that no bandits want to take advantage of his loneliness.

He knows he’ll never be king like he always dreamed of. He’d be a king of a broken kingdom anyway, only there to rule over ruins and the dead. Four years has been plenty of time to figure out living as a commoner, though he can’t say he doesn’t miss the ease of being a prince. He supposes he was lucky, travelling through the quietest parts of the countryside when his father’s kingdom enacted war with everyone else.

The knight calls back up the hill, his voice drifting incoherently up to the prince, and he starts on his way down to join his protector at the bottom. He even has a knight unwaveringly loyal to a shattered kingdom to look out for him. He still hasn’t figured out why. The knight has always stayed on his side, well into the end of the world, and he tells himself that he will find out the man’s motive for sticking around one way or another. It’s not like there’s anyone else to ask.

[weak4skz]

Han Jisung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, fluff, angst, idol au

Summary: Han and y/n have been friends since before they remember. But what happens if their friendship is severed by an unfortunate situation and Han goes off to be an idol while y/n is in college. When they connect through a mutual friend, what happens then?

CHAPTER WARNINGS: self harm, suicide attempt, eating disorder, body dysmorphia, reader isn’t in the right mind, body insecurities, just a lot of feelings, insecurities in general, self consciousness (tell me if I missed anything)

NOT PROOF READ!!!

A/N: chapter 2 is finally up!! If you couldn't tell, my life has been kind of a mess lately and I've been really busy with school as well as personal matters. But thank you for sticking around and being patient <3

COMMENT TO BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES!!!

want2besomeoneelse lixie-jisung-stan jisuperboard mentoslol i-dont-know-me-either mooncallerautumn poisonivy21

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

Going home my mind was working overtime but at the same time not working at all. My body went into auto-pilot while I was absolutely mentally wrecked. My biggest priority was to drive home without dying or having a mental breakdown; so I focused for the 15 minute drive home. As soon as I was safe inside my house I allowed myself to go numb. To have millions of thoughts but at the same time have no thoughts. It was a coping mechanism I developed over the years. 

I found out I could get into this little headspace after Jisung caught me cutting myself. Since I didn’t want to be caught doing something so embarrassing; I had to find another way to cope.

And to think I thought my night couldn’t POSSIBLY get worse 

I know I told myself I had gotten past this; but I really needed to feel something. So I went to the bathroom and picked up my blade and started cutting.

 It’s not enough

The pain wasn’t painful enough to fix my broken self so I cut deeper than I knew I should.

 Ah… sweet relief 

While relishing in the floaty feeling, I hear a quiet ping come from my phone. I pick it up, reading the text on my screen.

Hey y/n. I wanted to tell you that I passed that audition that I told you about and got accepted to become a trainee at JYP Entertainment. The only thing is that I have to leave tomorrow; but I promise I’ll keep in touch. Don’t die while I’m gone lol

Hannie

I let out a humorless laugh before making one more cut on my left thigh; it was so deep it gushed out blood. I didn’t really mind though; I needed the pain, maybe even liked it. Or I at least preferred it over everything that had happened in the past couple hours. The bathroom started to blur and I started to see stars; I decided to close my eyes and let the darkness take over.

SIX YEARS LATER

I walk into the cozy coffee spot trying to spot my friend. When I do; I rush over and give him a tight hug while he gently sways the both of us back and forth gently. He hugs me so tight I pull back from a lack of air.

Now, one might think that our greeting is a little much for not seeing each other for two days; but there is nothing dramatic enough for the man who saved my life

“Hey Y/n”

“Hey Chan” I say back breathlessly.

Chan, the 5’7 father of seven who is the reason I’m still here today FOUR YEARS AGO

After receiving the news of my mom’s death; I was devastated. She was at the hospital more than she was home; but when she was home we had so much fun. I could remember nights when we would stay up until 4 am surrounded by our favorite snacks. We would talk about anything and everything: me, her, the new episode of our favorite drama, Jisung.

Jisung

He hasn’t contacted me since the night of that party two years ago. I kept my old phone and number, even when I got a new one, just in case he called. I even pay the ridiculous rent for my childhood home just in case he came by. But maybe he just forgot about me; I mean, I am pretty forgettable. Not much special about me when he is a musical genius. 

I look out onto the bridge I’m on; the city looks so pretty from up here. Then, I look down at the water and the reflection of the city on it. Honestly, I would rather be in that city than the one up here. So I walk a little closer to the edge; not to jump, just to look. Or at least that’s what I tell myself. When I get to the edge and lean over it a little, reaching for the city in the water; I feel arms pulling me back. I immediately tense in the man’s arms, trying to figure out what type of person he could be. I lower it down to three options

A pedophile

A man that thought I was gonna jump and is trying to save my life

A drunk guy

‘Hey’ the man says in a gentle voice. “You’re a little close to the edge; why don't we back up a bit, yeah?” the voice says, gently pulling me back to a safe distance from the edge of the bridge. While still in the mystery man’s arms, I begin to analyze him. He’s strong, definitely stronger than me, so I can’t fight him. He also seemed to have the accent of a native English speaker. Before I could finish my detailed analysis the mystery man turned me around. 

“Hi,” he starts. “I’m Chan, Bang Chan. And you are?” he asks, looking at me with expecting eyes. “Y/n,” I responded in a quiet voice. 

“You looked like you could use some company. Why don’t we walk around and talk for a bit, hm? We can grab some food if you’d like.” 

“Oh, I’m not that hungry” 

That is the dumbest lie I have ever told

The truth is I am hungry. I have had nothing but a protein shake every other day. I skipped at least two days a week for the times I would go get food with friends or go eat with my mom at the hospital. But, I couldn't stop now. I've finally started to look normal, maybe even pretty. 

“Y/n, when’s the last time you ate, and I mean a full meal.”

Y/n, are you really about to spill all of your emotional trauma to some random stranger you just met?

Yes, yes I am

“About a month ago” his eyes automatically widened. “Yeah I have an eating disorder that I developed from body dysmorphia,” now Chan is looking at me like I’m crazy. Which, at the moment, I probably am. “Yeah I know. My mom died last week.” now even I know I’ve gone insane. 

“I wanted to jump” this time, I’m a little quieter; the fact I wanted to end my life a little harder to admit. “I’ve been cutting for years but after she died, cutting wasn’t enough” 

That was when I realized I was crying. It 's the first time I had cried since I was at my mom’s deathbed. Not while I drove home; not while I was cutting myself on the bathroom floor, not even at the funeral. 

I expected Chan to walk away. To consider me another depressed college student and to move with his life. But instead; I feel his arms wrap around me and his hands stand to gently move up and down my back. In my estranged state, I’m confused as to why the man I just met is comforting me. What’s even more confusing is how loved and cherished I feel in his arms. So, as any normal person would do, I cry my heart out into the man’s arms. 

After my loud sobs turn into quiet sniffles, Chan pulls me back and looks at my face.

“No offense, but you look like a mess”

“You look worse,” I sniffled.

Now that I got a good look at him, he looked a mess. His hair was  in messy, tangled curls, he had really dark bags under his eyes, and he was wearing different shoes.

“We both look like shit. But why don’t we fix our shit together, yeah?’

“Sure, why not”

BACK TO PRESENT TIME

“Ok, hear me out,” Chan starts. “What would you think of meeting the kids and becoming our manager for our upcoming comeback?”

“Let me get this straight. You want me, a broke girl straight out of college with no experience; to manage you and your friends' world-wide popular band?”

“Yes?” he says, but it sounds more like a question. 

“I haven’t even met them yet. First let me meet your so-called kids then we can talk about me becoming one of your managers,” I negotiated. Chan talks very highly of his kids; but again he couldn’t say a bad thing about anyone. 

“Ok great! How about right now?” he asked with a smile. 

“WHAT?” Chan grimaced at my loudness. “Bang Chan I am not dressed to meet a bunch of world-famous kpop idols!” Truthfully, I wasn’t dressed that bad. I was wearing a white tank-top, maybe a little too tight for a girl like me to be wearing; under a dark blue zip-up with some black, wide leg cargo pants. 

“You look fine,” he said a little more seriously. “They are at my apartment, we don’t  have to go if you don’t want to.”

“No, I'll go. I’ve been wanting to meet them for a while, this is just a little more sudden than what I had imagined.” are the words I force out of my mouth. “Yea sorry about that. I just knew if I didn’t ask you to come over today you would put it off for weeks,” he responded with a small smile.

This man knows me too well

He knows how I panic when meeting new people. How I get anxious about everything from what I say to how dirty my shoes are. He knows that I worry myself into panic attacks when it comes to first impressions

I let out a choked laugh, as if I were trying to laugh at a lame joke.

Except I am the joke

I tell him I’ll go, even if I kind of don’t want to. Don’t get me wrong, I do want to meet everyone; it’s just they seem so perfect. They just had to look good in everything: serious pictures, funny pictures, music videos, interviews, you name it. 

Slightly against my own will; I begin to get up, expecting us to leave.

“Y/n, you’re forgetting something,” Chan reminded me. I look at the table to see if I left my phone or wallet on it, but I don’t spot anything that’s mine. “What am I forgetting?” I asked him confused. “Y/n you forgot your sandwich”

My brain is working at 500 mph trying to come up with a better lie than ‘I had a really big breakfast’ because Chan knows I ever eat in the morning. “Y/n, did you eat at all yesterday? And I mean real food.” Chan asked, or rather scolded.

The truth is I didn’t, but it’s justified because the day before yesterday I went out with my old college friend, Yeji, and we ate hot pot; 3750 calories if I calculated correctly. And that’s way above my daily intake for two whole days. So technically, I ate enough for two days in one day which means there was no need to eat yesterday.

“Y/n,” Chan sighed; “Can you at least take a couple bites? Please?

“I can’t eat when I’m nervous,” was my excuse of choice. I mean, it wasn’t the complete truth but he didn’t have to know. 

Chan seemed to accept my answer and stood up. “Fine, are you ready to go?” he asks.