#I LOVE MOTHER 3 I GET WAY TO EXCITED FOR ITS ANNIVERSARY

[worthlessprotoplasam]

HAPPY 17TH ANNIVERSARY MOTHER 3!!!! 🌻🌻🌻

this game means so much to me I cant believe it's already 17 years, it was turning 12 when I first played it.

Anyway I wanted to draw a bunch of random parts of the game like if they were promo art for a episodes of an animated series, I'm really happy with how it came out. Lots of them were kind of out of my comfort zone but still came out so good

I based several of these off of actual promo art I saw so you might recognize them a little

[lyfeofbilly]

Tyrant

warnings: smut, smut, smut! (minors do not interact!)

summary: infidelity had snaked its way into your crumbling marriage. another night with your favorite mistake couldn’t hurt…..right?

author's note: my first time writing smut, so pleaseee bare with me. this is soooo fucking trifling i know, lmao. to them anons, this for yall.

taglist:@koffeesfancy @bubbleblowinggirl @pvnks0ul @solanaszn @onyxstones-world @blacksapphhicmaddonna

Rianna smirked at her phone as she read your text.

You up?

It had been weeks since you last seen her. The clock read 3:15 AM and you were craving her. Your body aching just to feel her touch again, the mere thought of it making your skin grow hot. Ever since you first got a taste of her you’ve been hooked. Her kisses were laced with a drug that you could not get enough of.

You never wanted it to go this far, to be in so deep. You loved your family- well your children. You and your wife have been on a rocky road for years now, "We're just in it for the kids." y'all would say. The both of you knew that excuse was bullshit. It caused more harm than good and your kids noticed. The resentful arguments, passive aggressiveness, and cursing matches were something that you wished your children would not have had to witness.

Your wife sent the kids to her mother's house while she disappeared to Lord knows where. You stayed home under the guise of having to work early mornings for the rest of the week. It was all just an excuse to have her. Your need for intimacy overtook the guilt you would normally feel in this situation.

You were sprawled across the bed, awaiting a response from Rianna. An hour had flown by since you sent your initial message. She wouldn't deny you and you knew that, she just loved playing the cat and mouse game. The excitement and sneakiness of it all ignited a fire deep within her. The three dots eventually turned into a text, causing your phone to ding.

The Mrs gone tonight?

Your eyes rolled at her text. The pettiness that woman possessed was something that needed to be studied. Her slick remarks and snide comments were something you hated yet loved about her. Another text came across your screen shortly after.

Leave the door open for me baby, I'll be there soon ;)

That sentence alone caused an ache between your legs. The power that she had on you was something else.

A sly smirk was plastered across Rianna's face as she tiptoed through the front door, softly shutting it behind her. Pictures of you and your family were displayed all around the living room. The image of you and your wife engulfed in a kiss is what caught her eye the most. The two of you looked young, happy, so in love. The frame had your anniversary date engraved on the bottom. It made Rianna sick, she wondered when exactly did your marriage turn sour. What was the straw that broke the camels back?

Rianna sighed and shrugged her shoulders as she placed the picture face down, "Fun while it lasted."

You nor Rianna would have ever thought things would get as deep as they were. Your relationship was innocent, at least that's what you thought, at first. You tried to play the flirting off as being friendly for your conscience's sake. The seductive stares, unnecessary touching of each other, playing footsy under the table, the list goes on. Cheating had never crossed your mind, no matter how bad things had got, but when you found yourself face down in the back of Rianna's car after a night of drinks all of that flew out of the window.

Truth is, Rianna wanted more. More from you, to be more than a late night endeavour, to be more than the other woman. She was more jealous than she would like to admit. The thought of you even laying next to your wife made her seethe with anger.

She continued throughout the house, strutting down the hallway, and finally through your bedroom door. When she entered, there sat you on the edge of the bed, body bare and exposed, anticipating her arrival. One thing that Rianna loved about you was your obedience. Your habit of doing anything that she asked and melt at her words boosted her ego by a thousand percent.

Your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, chest heaving up and down, eyes glued to her. A sight that Rianna loved to see, you so eager and ready for her. She slowly made her way over to you, taking your chin into her palm, her grip was anything but gentle, forcing your face up towards her.

"Three weeks and I don't hear from you?" She growled as her eyes burned holes into you. You would be lying if you said it didn't turn you on tremendously, "What kinda shit is that?"

A whimper left your throat as her hand travelled down to your neck, squeezing the sides of it. Your hips rolled against the comforter underneath you, your clit was throbbing, begging for the tiniest bit of friction.

Her head dipped to your neck, breath hot against your skin, "Missed my touch that much, baby?"

You so desperately wanted it, you needed it. Having her was the only thing that would calm the excitement between your thighs. Her touch alone pushed you more and more over the edge. The spot where you sat became drenched in your arousal.

Her lips began to attack your neck hungrily, and they felt amazing. She nibbled and sucked, sure to leave marks by the next day. Her free hand roamed your body before it grazed the inside of your leg. She drew circles agonizingly slow. Her fingers wandered up, running between your soaked folds. She strategically avoided your clit, wanting to push you to the edge, and boy was she succeeding, "You so damn needy, I ain't even fucked you yet."

With that she suck two fingers into you, causing you to let out a cry, "i nee-fuck!" You threw your head back into the pillows behind you, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

Your slick made it easy for her to open you up. She scissored her digits into you with precision, a loud sloshing sound filled the room, your juices drenching her hand. Her eyes met your half closed ones, "Hm? what you needed baby?"

She watched you struggle underneath her, your legs shaking and face contorted into one of pure ecstasy. She knew you were close, "Tell me what you need mama." You were at your peak, your walls clenched around her digits. A strained cry leaving your throat with every thrust she did.

A wave of dissatisfaction hit you when she snatched her fingers from your center. "P-Please baby i was so close." You whined.

Rianna took her silky fingers and ran them across your lips before sticking them in your mouth. Drool ran down the valley of your breasts as you sucked your juices off of them. She grinned before pushing them farther down your throat, causing you to gag, "Imma give you what you need baby, I promise."

She removed herself from you and stripped, revealing a scarlet red lingerie set that hugged her toned body. The arousal between her thighs dampened the middle of the thong she wore, strings of wetness connected it to her aching pussy as she dropped them to her ankles. She lay her self on the bed legs wide open so you could see all of her, and God was it a sigh to see. Your eyes were her stuck to her, mesmerized by the sight that lay before you.

You crawled towards her, hair falling and framing your face. In this moment you would do anything she told you, entranced in a spell of hers. You dipped your head into her sex, tongue swirling around her clit ever so slowly. her taste possessed you, you would stay down there all day if you could. you moaned as you sucked her throbbing bud, the vibration sending Rianna into a frenzy. She took your locs in a fistful and stuffed your face deeper into her, rocked her hips into you.

"You mm- you like this shit dont you?" her breasts bounced up and down, a layer of sweat starting to form on her skin. Her bottom lip was trapped in between her teeth, eyes locked onto you. Rianna loved watching you underneath her, seeing you please her drove her crazy, "You l-love getting your face fucked d-don't you?"

The grip on your hair got tighter as you continued to coax out her orgasm, "Eating it so g-good f'me baby. "The rocking of her hips became spasmodic as her thighs began to clench around your head, "Shi-shit, oh fuck!"

Her body stilled and her legs shook as she stopped to catch her breath. She pushed your head away and walked over to the bag that she brought. A few moments later she came back with her strap attached to her waist.

"You know how i want you."

You happily obliged as you got on all fours, arching your back so she could have access to all of you. Arousal dripped from your aching pussy down to the sheets. Your body shuddered in anticipation, waiting for her to fuck you silly. She rubbed the tip against your bundle of nerves, resulting in a gasp. Rianna was such a tease. She wanted to make you squirm and whine before she fucked you, needing to see how your body reacted to her.

"S-shit! ri p-please!"

A low chuckle left her, "please what? tell me what you want baby."

She was being mean and she knew it. A smack came down hard on your ass, and another right after. When it came to sex Rianna got off on hearing you beg, she wanted you to tell her everything you desired from her. Silence was never an option when it came to being intimate with her.

“Wa-want you to- ah fuck!”

Rianna teased your entrance with the tip of the dildo, slamming it in seconds after. You could’ve swore you saw stars. She was stretching you immensely, and you loved every second of it. A low chuckle left Rianna's lips, one of satisfaction. She began to push deeper inside you, massaging your gooey walls, hitting your spot just right.

“S-shit ri!” The covers underneath you began to tangle in between your fingers, “J-just like that!”

She gripped both of your forearms, pulling you back up towards her. Your head rested in the crook of her neck as she pecked wet kisses along your jawline.

“Doing so good f’me baby." she rasped in your ear.

Rianna's speed was killing you. She made your pelvises kissed with every thrust that she did.

"F-fuck ri baby please!" Your pleads held no weight with her. She had you right where she wanted.

"You look so fucking pretty when you beg."

the coil in your stomach was threatening to snap. The speed nor force of her drilling never let up.

Your orgasm was creeping up on you and Rianna could tell. Your breath hitched as you clenched around her, "Im about to f-fucking come!"

"Let that shit out," The sound of your bodies slapping against one another filled the room. "Tell me, that bitch fuck you this good?"

It felt like all the air had been knocked out of your chest. Between the pounding you were receiving and that question, you forgot how to breathe. Dirty talk wasn't new to you and Rianna, you fucking loved it. She knew exactly what to say to make your fountain run over. You and your wife's sex life wasn't an exciting one to say the least. It felt like a monotonous chore.

You shuddered against her, "Mmph- fuck!"

"I asked you a question." One hand snaked down your front and swirled your swollen bud in between her fingers, "She fuck you like this baby? She make that pussy feel good like i do?"

You hated to admit it, but your wife had nothing on RIanna, nothing at all. "Fuck n-no! She don't m-make me feel like you do baby!"

Tears ran down your cheeks as your orgasm washed over you, the coil in your stomach finally snapping. After a few more thrusts she pulled out of you, caressing your back as you came down from your high.

Steam filled the bedroom as the bathroom door swung open, out came you in a towel that clung to your dripping body. Rianna lay sprawled out on the bed, typing on her phone. You two knew the drill, she had to be out by noon.

"Alright Ri.....you already know how this go."

She cut her eyes at you and sighed, irritation beginning to rise. She pretended like she didn't hear you, initially ignoring you. The typing on her phone becoming more aggressive.

11:15 came and she still made no attempt to get dressed and out of your home. She did this every time, wanting to get you back in bed again and not worry about the responsibilities you had to face after your rendezvous.

"Rianna, seriously get dressed."

A groan left her mouth as she tossed her phone on the side of her, "This shit again? When you gone leave her? Ain't like y'all a couple anyway."

"Excuse me?"

She stepped toward you, her being short in stature didn't affect the intimidation that you felt in the moment.

"Don't give me that shit. Y'all don't even sleep in the same bed, and you want me to be gone before she get here? What type of shit is that!"

She was right. You and your wife haven't shared the same bed in months, let alone even touched each other.

"That's my wife rianna!"

She scoffed, "Yea a lousy one. That bitch can't do half the shit I do for you, yet you still fucking stay."

You threw her shirt and pants at her, "Get fucking dressed. You were supposed to been gon-"

The bedroom door swung open, a loud slam following behind it as it hit the wall. There stood your wife, arms crossed and face red with anger.

"Fuck!"

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Romantics 🎸 | Pete Mitchell Imagine

Part of my 'Y/n & The Romantics' TGM AU verse

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x 80s Rockstar!reader (romantic), Bradley Bradshaw x reader (mother/son-type relationship), Dagger Squad (platonic)

content warnings: Fluff, slight profanity, flirtatious banter, light suggestive content, mentions of past drug use. pop culture references | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 5k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @fangirlvibez) 🩶

Premise: After two years since getting the band back together, Y/n and The Romantics have got the opportunity most artists dream of getting when they've achieved legendary status in their career: a documentary film. Recalling the days of discovery, early stardom and the love she found along the way, frontwoman & daughter of Rock n' Roll Y/n L/n-Mitchell writes a love letter to not only her fans, but the pilot who captured her heart...and the little girl with a voice of an angel who broke away from God to become a rockstar.

Note: I've said it and I'll say it again, writing dagger squad x famous!reader is in my top 3 pairings I've written for, and it makes me so happy that after two plus years of doing them, you guys love them and continue to request them--even when I've been slacking on getting through requests. This request was the spark I needed and once I started typing, it never stopped. Again (like every note in my works the past several months) I'm sorry for the wait and I hope this gives you everything you hoped for. 🩶

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

3….2….1…

“Are we rolling?” Y/n laughed, apologizing to the producers and crew in front of her when she realized they had already begun filming when she was off in la la land singing ‘How Will I Know,’ by Whitney Houston under her breath while an assistant made sure the mic was secured on her t-shirt.

“Yes, Ms. Y/n,” the lady in an all red pantsuit chuckled, adjusting her headset and motioning for the cameraman to not stop the camera. “But don’t worry we’ll edit it out.”

They were not going to edit it out. In fact it was going to be the opening sequence to Y/n’s personal bits. 

“I’m so embarrassed,” the rockstar hid her face with a hand, but then remembered she valued her life and would not ruin the masterpiece her makeup artist had created. “I’m sorry--I’m ready when you are, darling.” 

To celebrate the 45th anniversary of the release of their first song, Y/n & The Romantics were approached by HBO to film a documentary recounting their early days of their group, the height of their career, the twenty-year hiatus, and finally their reunion with a crew following them during the American leg of their 2024 world tour. It was an exciting opportunity. One the band--and especially their lifelong fans--were delighted. 

It’d been two years since their return to music. Together as a group that is. And not once had it lost its thrill. Releasing two albums, going on back-to-back World Tours, winning two Grammy’s and three Moonman. Performing at the Billboard Music Awards where they received the Icon Award. A song from their early albums featured on the Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 soundtrack. 

Things were looking great. Perfect.

Now Y/n sat in the comfort of her home, dogs taking claim to areas not occupied by the many crew members, recording her personal interviews for the documentary while Pete and Rooster worked in the garage to pass time until Y/n and Pete were to do their piece. 

The producer adjusted herself in the chair, clipboard in her lap, “So, Y/n, I’m going to ask some relatively basic questions, but just speak what your heart desires. Sounds good?”

She gives a thumbs up, “sounds great.”

“I guess we’ll start by having you introduce yourself,” a few chuckles rang out. Y/n letting out a giggle as the producer shrugged with a smile. “I know, I know. We know you but for this part we’ll be showing flashbacks of your early childhood.” 

“Okay, okay. No pressure.” Y/n got comfortable. Looking straight at the camera, Y/n gave a dazzling smile. “Hi, I’m Y/n L/n, songwriter and frontwoman of Y/n and The Romantics. I was born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia and I will not disclose my age,” she winked, chuckling with the crew. She recently celebrated her 60th birthday. “You can google that information.” 

“Can you tell us about what your childhood was like? For those who may not know, how did you and the others meet?”

Y/n inhaled deeply, the memories of growing up in the late 60s and early 70s surfacing. Replying in her mind like an old film. Beaming as she recalled, “we all lived on the same block--went to the same elementary school and junior high before we got signed. Maya and I were neighbors, Evan lived across the street. Danny and Ronnie were up the road, closest to a convenient store we’d go to on the weekends to grab a coke or smoke a cigarette. We rode the same bus, had the same teachers. If I wasn’t at Maya’s, we were down at Ronnie’s or one of the guys. Chilling in the garage listening to the Beatles and B.B. King or taking the city bus to our favorite record store.”

A distant look in her eyes appeared when she began talking about her family. Both sets of grandparents died before she reached 21. Luckily they were able to witness Y/n’s career take off but missed out on major milestones. A few cousins passed on over the years, as did many friends. Unfortunately, her father greeted the other side when she was 45. And while it’s been fifteen years since, not a day goes by where she didn’t think of him. As for her mother, she just turned 90 and was still kicking. 

“My parents were working class citizens, who worked their tail off to provide for us. My father actually worked at the same company with Evan’s dad. Then mine, Ronnie’s, and Maya’s mom were part of the same social circle.” Exhaling, Y/n tilted her head with a small smile, “I had a good childhood. One many kids would wish for---a loving family living in a nice house. Yeah there were times where my parents had to forgo a home cooked meal in favor of keeping the lights on one more night. Occasionally birthday presents were postponed until a month after our birth date. But, we were happy. We had each other, and that’s all that mattered.”

Taking a sip of water, Y/n cleared her throat while adjusting her position on the couch, the producer asking, “When did you first fall in love with music? You mentioned you guys would go to the record store and in earlier interviews how you guys' covered musicians on the streets of Atlanta--which evidently is how you were discovered. Did you always want to pursue the industry as a rock band or did it come as a surprise.”

“A little bit of both,” she answered honestly. Y/n thought back to years leading up to their discovery. Their small, humble setup with secondhand instruments they got from yard sales with saved up allowance money. Claiming a corner near the busy intersection of downtown Atlanta which was now known as Olympic Centennial Park following the 1996 Atlanta Olympic Games. Keeping their guitar cases open for when passer byers dropped coins or loose bills. 

Was it the safest idea? Not really. But it was 1978 and things were different. People left their cars unlocked. One could ask a stranger for a cigarette or a ride down the street without a second thought. 1978 was a memorable year as the year the Women’s Army Corps came to an end, the discovery of Pluto’s first moon, the first IVF baby conceived, and Harriet Tubman became the first African American woman on a postage stamp. Georgia opened the first ever Home Depot, and native Jimmy Carter was president of the United States. 

“Music was always there growing up,” she explained. “My parents collected records--my mother always had one playing when cleaning or cooking. Either that or the radio was on. For my seventh birthday I received a wooden harmonica and boy was it the best gift ever,” she hummed with a smile. 

She still had that harmonic. It was on a shelf in her bedroom, right next to the picture frame holding the tickets and signed program from the Elvis Presley concert she attended in 1976. 

“Any allowance or birthday money I got was put in my piggybank--which was then cashed in on a used 1940s Fender Esquire I got from a yard sale for all of $40. And before you say anything--,” she pointed a finger, “$40 was a lot back in the day even if it was used. Especially for a twelve-year-old.” 

Like the harmonica, the first guitar Y/n ever owned was on display on the wall where the rest of them were. Beside her legendary hot pink ‘Dirty Shirley’ Fender Stratocaster and Elvis’s 1960 Gibson J-200 famously used in his 1968 comeback special.

“Of course the dream was to be discovered, signed, make music and be able to say we got to live the dream. Even if it was for a short amount of time,” Y/n talked with her hands, “but it was a shock. Never did we expect it would’ve happened the way it did. I mean c’mon,” a playful left her lips, leaning forward to emphasize her words, “we were fourteen! High school was about to start for us and there was no way in hell my parents would accept me dropping out to go live life as a rockstar.” 

“Can you tell us about that day? How exactly did it play out?” 

Of all the questions the producer asked throughout the duration of filming the documentary with the Romantics, hearing them recount the day they were discovered was in their top 3. The crew saw how each member brightened, turning back into their 14-year-old self with the excitement painting their face. 

“It was my idea to cover ‘Cry Baby’,” Danny stated. “Y/n and Maya were set on ‘California Dreamin’,’ Evan wanted to fit in, ‘Superstition,’, and Ronnie didn’t give a shit as long as we made the most out of the day. But it was yours truly who pushed for Y/n to cover Janis. You’re welcome.” 

Ronnie would go on to say, “Danny and Evan did what they always did when a pretty girl stopped to listen; fought for her attention. Maya kept telling them to shut up and focus because it was the one day of the week during the school year where we got to go into the city to play. My keyboard had probably another month before I needed to replace it. Transporting it back and forth every week kept scratching it up.”

“I don’t want to say it was superstition,” Evan winked, a nice call back to the song he originally wanted them to cover in their set list, “But when I woke up that morning, I felt something--like it wasn’t going to be a normal set we’d had. There was a shift in the air the moment I put the guitar on and Y/n started belting ‘Fortunate Son.’ Maybe it was just me…I don’t know. But to this day, I believe the stars happened to align at the right moment for us.”

Maya beamed with each word, “Halfway through our set, a butterfly landed on my bass, and it was only ten minutes later that Mr. Mayhew found us. To me it was a sign--and why my bass always has butterflies on it. Afterwards we begged my brother to take us to Burger Chef to celebrate. Which ugh--!” She made a sound of longing, “Doesn’t even exist anymore! God the days where I could get a burger, fries and a shake for less than a dollar.”

“It was like any other weekend,” scratching her jaw, Y/n remembered every detail of the moment she and the band were approached by the music producer. “It was Saturday, middle of May and already scorching hot by mid-afternoon. We were a week away from the last day of junior high. Maya’s older brother would take us to our usual spot on his way to work and pick us up at the end of his shift.” Y/n bit back a smile, thinking about the big juvenile crush she had on him. Probably because he had a car and job, which back then was an attractive thing for any guy. It never went anywhere of course, and the two stayed friends--attending each other's wedding years later. 

“Every week we’d plan a set list of songs, both covers and ones I wrote. If we ran out of songs before Maya’s brother got off, we’d either call one of our parents to pick us up or continue playing whatever song we felt like. I was intimidated, to say the least, when it came time to cover ‘Cry Baby.’ So I mentally went, ‘fuck it, just do it,’ and poured my entire soul into singing. When I finished the adrenaline kept pumping, and I barely registered the suited man walking up with a business card and telling me to, ‘have your parents call this number. You kids have talent that only comes once in a lifetime. I wanna help you share it with the world.’”

For the next hour the producer relayed the questions and Y/n recalled the years between 1979 and 1989. Their first decade as a band was filled with success and hardships. The launch of their debut single and album. Appearing on Johnny Carson and SNL, being the third music video to ever play on MTV and winning their first Grammy. We Are the World with Michael Jackson, collaborating with Duran Duran, Eurythmics, and Diana Ross. The international tours, the rumors of Danny and Y/n’s addiction--which were false, tense moments where someone nearly quit. The lawsuit against a producer who was cheating them out of money.  

It was tough. But they pulled through. 

“1989 was a memorable year,” the producer began, a knowing smile on her lips. “Not only for the band….but for you, Y/n. 1989 was the year you met Pete Mitchell.”

To say the heat in her veins rivaled that of a volcano on the verge of exploding, was an understatement. The confident, playful, rockstar reduced to that of a shy schoolgirl falling in love for the first time. 

“Yessss,” she bit her lip, glancing away from the camera to hide the grin, but it was to no avail. It stayed on as she returned her attention forward, “That’s right.” 

“We’re gonna bring Pete in soon, but like your bandmates we want to have you talk about your relationship before sitting you both down for the next portion of this interview.” 

“Of course. What would you like to know?”

“Well, to begin, can you tell us how you and Pete met? It was after you performed at the Staples Center, correct?”

“Yup. August 15, 1989, at what was once called Club Electric Idol, known today as Melvin’s Planet Enterprise in Los Angeles. We finished our gig at the Staples Center and decided to hit up a club to end the night. Electric Idol was not far from our hotel.” The blue strobe lights flashed in her mind, followed by the image of a young Pete, Ice, and Slider walking up. His hair perfectly styled, bomber jacket and aviators on. Y/n chuckled, “I don’t know how long we’d been there, but next thing I know this guy is tapping my shoulder to ask if he could take a moment of my time. At first I expected another drunken pick-up line, but Pete shocked my core when he and his friends started belting, ‘You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling,’ in the middle of the bar. Maya looked at him like he had two heads,” the giggles were now loose. Y/n unable to contain them. 

“I think Evan joined in,” a cough escaped, the woman shaking her head, “Pete was unlike any man I’d ever met. And considering I married the guy,” flashing her left hand, the diamond ring sparkled. “It’s safe to say he successfully wooed me with his beautiful rendition.”

The producer laughed with the rest of the crew, “Shall we bring him in then?”

“Ready when you are, baby.” 

Signaling the assistant, the young man raced out before returning a short moment later with Pete in tow. The pilot shyly waved to the guest, but instantly lit up when his eyes landed on Y/n. Nerves disappear with the relaxation of his features.

“Hey, hot shot.” 

“Hey there, songbird.” He took his place beside her on the couch, leaning back when the PA attached the mic to his shirt. “How’s it been going?”

“Perfect,” she replied with a smile, moving closer which then prompted their dog Ice to join them on the couch. Goose changed his napping spot to in front of Pete’s feet. Bella stayed on her bed. “Will Bradley manage the car on his own, or is he taking a break?” 

Pete reached down to give Goose a pat on the head, brushing his hand down his back to get rid of the shedding hair, “He’s heading to go shoot hoops with Jake and Payback. Said he’ll be back for dinner.”

Shuffling through her papers, the producer spoke into her headset before facing the couple. “Okay for this segment we’re gonna ease our way into the topic of relationships and maintaining them in this industry. Say whatever you’re comfortable with--we’ll edit out anything you might want cut in the final production.” 

Pete lifted a thumb, “Cool.” 

“Pete, before you came in Y/n was telling us about the night you met,” Red coating his cheeks in a flash, the pilot making a sound of embarrassment. 

“Oh God.”

Y/n giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Oh stop it, you were the star of the night, Pete Mitchell.”

“Can you explain what prompted you to approach Y/n? You were with your friends, having just attended their show hours prior, on vacation. What outcome were you hoping to come out of it?”

“To be honest with you I wasn’t exactly thinking of the outcome,” Pete, still red as a tomato, stared into the camera with a pleading look as if begging the eventual audience to believe him. “My buddies and I had this thing where when we saw a pretty lady we’d say, ‘She’s lost that lovin’ feeling,’ which was code for, ‘Please help me impress her.’ I’d only done it a few times before Y/n,” Briefly glancing at her, Pete chuckled as he recalled the words he told her, repeating them to the camera, “The first time crashed and burned. The second one got me a date, and the third….third time's a charm.” 

The next few minutes the couple went back in time. Remembering it all like it was yesterday. Afterwards Pete spoke of their first date, how he asked Y/n to be his girlfriend and the reality of going public with their relationship.

“I knew what I was signing up for when I fell in love with Y/n,” with his hand placed on top of her knee, Pete started to caress the area. The leather of her pants smooth against his thumb. “We had high demand jobs. Sometimes I couldn’t get in touch with her per my missions' orders. Her schedule was constant. But when you love someone, you make the time. You show up when it matters. I made sure to be at every major performance. Called every week--I once drove around Reno for hours trying to find a working payphone so I could wish her luck before she took to the stage. Sent flowers to her dressing room--which in the beginning was damn hard because the security thought I was a crazed fan.” 

Y/n continued, but not before laughing at her husband. “Whenever we were on break from recording or tour, I’d go to whatever base Pete was stationed at. He’d take me to the hangar and show me all there was to Naval aviation. I would say more of what we’d do, but I don’t want him getting in anymore now that he’s retired,” a sly wink was sent to the camera, both adults giggling as Mav brought a finger to his mouth, ‘shhhh.’

“Now, Y/n, during the final show of the band’s reunion tour you revealed that the rumored break up between you two before you got married never happened. How did you manage to keep such a big secret like that all these years?”

“A great publicist, not going out as much when we had time off and learning the art of deception.” Of course that last one was a little lie. In reality, they were lucky it all worked out the way it did. That people, specifically reporters and paparazzi, started to leave Pete alone. Toning down their stalking of the poor guy. Plus the band’s and Y/n’s personal publicist, with the consent of everyone involved, planted seeds of her romantically linking to other high-profile individuals. Like Paul Rudd during his early years of fame, and Ethan Hawk.

“Things at my job were becoming unstable with the amount of attention I got being Y/n’s partner,” Pete explained. “My superiors were concerned with sending me out after an incident where a fan tried following me to the hangar. Now at the time, this was before September 11th, you could drive onto military installations, but there were still certain areas restricted to only personnel. This fan attempted to breach the restricted area, then there were times the paparazzi photographed me in places that were confidential.”

“So we staged a break-up,” Y/n threw her hands up, letting out an irritated sigh. 25 years later and it still bothered her how invasive people could be. Especially with Pete, her man. Compromising his job, and potentially his life.

She’d raise hell. 

Shaking her head, the rockstar went on to say, “It worked, thankfully. Got the paps and weirdos---yes I am the type to call obsessive, stalking fans weirdos,” her eyes were fierce, staring into the soul of the camera. 

Well, the soul of the audience watching.

“There are lines, people. Boundaries. Ones that should be respected. Yes, I’m aware what it means to be a public figure and therefore my life is an open book half the damn time. But seriously, that doesn’t give permission to stalk the lives of my loved ones. Hell!” she slapped a hand on her thigh, “Even when we first started out….we were kids. We should not have had to constantly watch our backs for people who might want to harm us. Or scare us for that matter.” 

They continued discussing the subject for a brief period. Followed by the events leading to their engagement and marriage. The wedding had been the talk of the year when it was announced. Y/n wore custom Chanel, Pete in his Dress Whites. An intimate ceremony with their friends, family, Pete’s superiors, and few members of the music industry Y/n grew close to. Dolly Parton, Diana Ross, Stevie Nicks, Michael Jackson, and fellow Atlanta natives TLC among the guest list. 

“You two have been together 34 years--married for 22. Maya and Evan recently celebrated 37 years as a couple--tying the knot in 1994. Danny and his wife have been married since 2000 and Ronnie recently celebrated 20 years with her wife. Pun intended, but it appears all members of Y/n and The Romantics found the key to life-lasting romance.”

“We did, didn’t we?!” Y/n clapped her hands in glee, lightly bouncing on the couch from the excitement. “I had never thought of that before, oh my gosh, that’s amazing!” Mav laughed with her but then had to calm down Goose who got up from the sudden noise and started barking. Making Ice, who’d been laying on the couch, get off to leave the living room. “I should write a song about that,” the idea came to mind, Y/n straightening up with an expression indicating a light bulb went off. “Oh yeah,” humming, she fell back against the couch with a content exhale, “I know what our next album is going to be. And I promise to put you on the credits,” she ends with a point to the producer, who appreciated the gesture with a grin and thumbs up.

“Looking forward to it.” 

November 10th, 2024 -- The Chinese Theater in Hollywood, Los Angeles, California. 

A block away from their Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Y/n and The Romantics stood in front of the iconic Chinese Theater to the flashing cameras and screams of fans for the premiere of their documentary film, “Rock to Romance: The Story of Five Kids from Atlanta with A Dream of Rock n’ Roll.’ 

Already a success with the critics praising the direction, production, and the intimate, raw interviews of the band members, the documentary was a hit. The Atlanta premiere the week prior reserved for special guests and critics shot Y/n back in time to 1978. They were at Olympic Centennial Park, down the street from the intersection where it all started. Overcome with emotion, the frontwoman had to excuse herself from the red carpet early. Escaping to a bathroom where Ronnie and Maya found her, the trio embraced in a hug with no words needed to understand the message. 

They lived their dreams. They were icons of Rock and Roll.

Now at the Hollywood premiere, Y/n was more relaxed. At ease with the environment. Reporters of major news stations and entertainment media waited patiently for their turn at interviewing the band. Celebrities from every industry one could think of attended. Many of which were fans themselves and had the honor of calling Y/n and The Romantics their friend. Directors Baz Luhrmann and Greta Gerwig--both secretly competing to direct the group's biopic. Georgia natives that couldn’t make the Atlanta premiere: Walton Goggins, Dakota and Elle Fanning and Gladys Knight. Actors including Robert Downey Jr., Jack Black, Chris Tucker, Meryl Streep, and Michele Yeoh. Professional dancer Derek Hough, who’d been Ronnie’s partner on Dancing With The Stars. Supermodels of the 80s and 90s Cindy Crawford, Tyra Banks, and Iman. Then there were some athletes like Rafael Nadal, Carl Lewis, Michael Jordan, Venus and Serena Williams, and Mary Lou Retton. 

And of course, you can’t forget the rockstars. Members of Duran Duran, Cheap Trick, U2, Guns N’ Roses, Journey, Blondie and Def Leppard. Cyndi Lauper, Janet Jackson, Pat Benatar, Annie Lennox, Stevie Nicks, Joan Jett, and Pattie LaBelle. 

Fans lined the streets, screaming each time a car rolled up and finally exploded the moment all five members were together. 

Y/n stood in the middle, Maya and Ronnie on either side, Evan next to Maya and Danny beside Ronnie. The ladies appeared as walking Goddesses in custom Dior and the fellas stunning in Louis Vuitton. They posed for the array of paparazzi and fans. Doing their best not to squint as the ongoing flashing lights blinded them. Ronnie cracked jokes; Evan flirted with Maya to get her blushing. Danny, like always, gave his blue steel.

 And Y/n? She was just happy to be there. 

Searching the crowd for her husband and invited guests, the rockstar was relieved when they finished the red carpet portion of the event. Beelining to Maverick, accompanied by the group of dagger ducklings she loved dearly. “I’m so happy you guys made it!!” Embracing each one of them, Y/n moved to Pete’s side once placing a motherly kiss to Rooster’s cheek. 

“We wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Y/n,” Natasha told her, the guys echoing with approval. She was wearing vintage Oscar De La Renta. A gift from Y/n when she made Commander. “This is insane,” she awed, motioning to the scene around them. The carpet was still underway with stars, the countdown to the film minutes away. “And here I thought nothing would compete with the Hall of Fame induction.”

“Speak for yourself, Trace,” Jake, handsome as ever in his Tom Ford suit, spoke from behind. “I for one knew this premiere would have a larger turn out. I mean c’mon, it’s all everyone’s been talking about since March.” Rolling her eyes, Natasha turned back to Y/n, who was biting back a laugh at the two. 

Rooster, out of his typical Hawaiian shirt and instead nicely dressed in a custom Ralph Lauren tuxedo, stepped forward. “I guess I’ll be the first of these clowns to say, congratulations to you and the band, Y/n on this amazing film. It’s been an honor watching it unfold, and we’re excited for what comes next.”

“Aw, Bradley,” she holds back the tears this time to not mess up her makeup, but pulls him into another hug nonetheless. “Thank you. It means so much to us--and I’m so grateful to have you all here. To be part of this journey. Supporting me and Pete, the band and just everything.” 

“No tears,” Reuben, also wearing Ralph Lauren, playfully scolds. “Can't be messing up that pretty face when you have a speech to give in front of a theater full of Hollywood hot shots. Save that for the party.”

“Please,” she scoffs, returning the manner, “I’ll be too drunk to cry. I might be 60, but I can still hold my liquor.”

“Planet Enterprise, right?” A Gucci wearing Javy raises a brow, making finger guns. 

The rockstar winked, “You know it.”

Ten minutes after passing time with small talk, the group were ushered inside where Y/n quickly returned to her bandmates for the speeches and introductions of the doc. Managing to keep it together, Y/n thanked her family, friends, Pete, the crew and production company for dedicating the time and energy to making the documentary, and of course her best friends on stage. 

The four individuals who were the only ones on the planet to relate to everything Y/n experienced in the world of rock n roll. 50+ years of friendship. Seeing each other at their best and worst. Accomplishing milestones together. 

They were more than a band. They were a family.

Finally the lights turned off, the screen went white, and the reel began rolling. Opening with the image of Y/n on her living room couch. The image of a woman, who was once a young girl with dreams of playing her Fender Esquire on the stages of Madison Square Garden and the Staples Center. Possessing the voice of an angel who broke away from God to become a rockstar. 

“If you could travel back to 1978 and give your fourteen-year-old self advice for the road ahead, what would you tell her?”

“I’d tell her……don’t lose that dream, little one. You’ve got the journey of a lifetime waiting for you.” 

...............................................

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001, @cutelittlepotatofry, @luckyladycreator2, @americaarse , @elenavampire21, @back-tooo-black, @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris , @kmc1989

[killiansprincss]

TIMELESS - a new Captain Swan AU Chapter 4/19

SUMMARY : Season 3 divergence - When Zelenas time portal works, Henry wakes up alone in Storybrooke and must travel to the Enchanted Forest to get his family back. Only once he gets there he quickly realises its not like the one in his book, theres no Evil Queen and his mother Emma wasn't put through a wardrobe, theres even a poster inviting the entire kingdom to her engagement ball, to Hook. What will happen once Henry gets them to break this new curse and they get their memories back?

In which every chapter is inspired by a different Taylor Swift song.

Link to AO3

—

Your eyes whispered "have we met?"

Across the room your silhouette starts to make it's way to me

The playful conversation starts

Counter all your quick remarks, like passing notes in secrecy

And it was enchanting to meet you

All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you

Misthaven Kingdom, Enchanted Forest-5 years ago

Emma loved her life, she had two parents that loved her and a little brother that she adored. But as Crown Princess of Misthaven, it came with a few struggles, privacy for one was a luxury she didn’t have often with maids and servants at her every call. And being unmarried also meant her mother insisted on her meeting new suitors at every ball, and with many allies in other kingdoms, it meant a lot of royal balls.

“Are you ready yet Emma?” Emma hears her mother's voice from outside her door.

“Almost ready!” She calls back, it’s a complete lie, she’s not even started getting ready, she was watching the world go by outside her window, seeing everyone dressed up and excited to come to the ball. She wished she were one of those people, seeing the palace in all its glory for a special occasion, and not every day of her life.

“Ahem.” Emma turns from the window to see her mother standing with her arms crossed.

Emma gives her mother a coy smile, “I said almost ready.”

Snow rolls her eyes and pulls out the chair by the vanity for Emma to sit on. “What’s up with you lately? You’ve been distant.”

If she were being honest, Emma didn’t know. She felt lost, like there was something missing, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “I’m just nervous, balls make me nervous meeting all these new people.” 

Grabbing the brush by her left, Snow begins brushing Emma’s hair, “well maybe tonight will be the night you meet somebody. It’ll be okay, your father and I are always around. Just don’t take Leo and sneak off into the kitchens.”

Emma sniggers at the memory, that ball in particular was incredibly boring, so she and her younger brother Leo snuck into the kitchens. It was great for them, they were both bored of dancing and the kitchens had amazing cake and cookies only baked for the balls. Their parents caught them though after a couple hours and they were in serious trouble, but it was worth it.

“I promise I’ll try and enjoy myself tonight mother.” Emma means it, as much as she hates these balls, she loves her parents and it’s their Anniversary ball.

____

Captain Hook was not a fan of Royal Balls. But the ball of Queen Snow and King David was a necessary evil to attend. The  jewels and gold in their palace were worth more than he could loot in 5 months. He’d been back from Neverland around a year and had since learnt 3 centuries had passed, his reputation lives on with new kingdoms to pillage and plunder.

This wasn’t his first time at a Royal Ball either, he knew the etiquette from his days with Liam in the Royal Navy. Whilst it was a long time ago, but the royal etiquette remained the same. You arrive and dance for a while before the royal family are introduced, then the young prince and princess dance first with a chosen suitor before everyone joins in the dancing and festivities. It was the perfect chance to sneak off and find the jewels. 

The music stops, and Hook looks over to the guards at the top of the stairs. This was the part where the Royal Family were announced, it had to be after everybody else had arrived,

“Presenting their Majesties, Queen Snow and King Consort David.” The squire announces as two people walk out onto the podium, they smile and wave at the crowd. Hook manoeuvres his way around the edges to get a closer vantage point of sneaking into the main hallway.

“And now presenting their Royal Highnesses; Prince Leopold, and Crown Princess Emma.”

A young lad, no older than 15 walks out first, no denying he’s the prince, as he is the spitting image of his father. And then the Princess walks out, she is much older than her brother, early 20s maybe, but again the image of their father, long blonde hair with white flowers to match her white dress. She was beautiful.

He had met Princess’ before, both in his days in the Navy, and during his pirate days,but none were as beautiful as the one standing in front of him. Something inside of him was pushing him towards her, telling him not to rush for the Jewels straight away.

He took another sip of whatever was in his goblet, nothing close to the Rum he has on the high seas, but he had to stay focused on the job at hand, getting side tracked by the pretty Princess was not part of the plan. 

He can’t help but keep his eyes on the Princes as she dances with her chosen suitor, she’s beautiful, a true vision of beauty. 

“I kindly ask you to stop Prince Lorcan.” He overhears her saying to her dance partner. He notices her struggling in his grip as if she’s trying to escape.

“May I have this dance, Princess?” He taps on the shoulder of her partner who reluctantly steps away.

“Thank you for saving me.” She whispers as she takes his arm in the dance.

“I can sense when a lady is in danger, some men need to learn the meaning of the word ‘no’.” 

“I warn you, I’m no good at dancing.” She admits.

He just smirks and tells her, “Well that's rule one, pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

At this moment he is just a handsome stranger who glides her around the ballroom floor. He was not lying, he knew how to dance, dancing was also something that hadn’t changed in 300 years.

“I truly despise these balls.” The Princess sighs as she lets him lead the waltz, a dance she favoured.

“What isn’t there to like, Princess? Free food, free drink, music and a whole crowd that worships you and your family.” He asks with a smirk, this was not part of his plan but dancing with the princess felt strangely right.

She laughs, “You just described exactly what I hate about them!” She turns to him, a blush creeping up on her cheecks as she looks into his eyes, “See that prince over there in the red?” He looks over to see a bumbling man stuffing his face with what appears to be olives. “He’s the prince of Ashbourne, our closest ally. My parents think I should marry him, they invite him to every ball thinking I’ll change my mind.”

She was a stubborn Princess, he liked that. “I take it royal suitors are not your thing?”

Emma smiles. “If I am going to marry, it’ll be for love. I can’t imagine it would be with someone my parents picked out for me.”

“I take it that’s rare for a Princess.” He doesn’t know why he engages in conversation with her, every logical part of his brain was telling him to find the treasure. But what if there was a different treasure to be found tonight?

“You know who I am. And yet I am clueless as to who you are.” She comments, he wanted to keep the conversation flowing, he liked talking to her, yet he needed to be wary in case he slipped up

“I know that you are a Princess and your name is Emma. I wouldn’t say I know who you are.” He replies as he spins her around.

“So mysterious. But I would like to know your name at least, and I can’t quite pinpoint your accent.” She was not going to drop this that much was clear.

Hook hesitates for a moment, debating whether to stay mysterious or to come up with an elaborate lie, he couldn’t exactly tell her the truth. “Charles, I come from the land of Arendelle.”

“Oh my father knows the Princess of Arendelle! How is the weather this time of year?”

“This time of year is lovely and warm. You should come visit sometime.”

He was thankful the conversation ended at that moment as one of Emma’s likely suitors tapped him on the back, asking politely to cut in. “It was lovely conversing with you Princess.”

___

Emma knew Charles, or whoever he was, was lying. She had a special skill to know when someone was lying to her, it worked with her brother, and it worked with this man. He hesitated when she asked for his name, and Arendelle was known for its cold weather this time of year.

She wished she could trip him up, call his bluff, but then of course Prince Rowan steps in asking for a dance. 

He dances nothing like her mysterious stranger, he trips over his own feet and steps on Emma's toes a lot. She looks over at her family, seeing her parents dancing together, and her little brother dancing with a red headed girl his age. 

“Prince Rowan, I am parched, would you go get some wine for us both?” Emma asks, knowing that the servants with the drinks are on the other side of the ballroom, and Emma’s secret corridor leading back to her room is behind her. This was her only chance to slip away unnoticed. 

“Of course! Of course! Give me a few moments and I shall be back!” The poor prince was far too eager, and went running off to grab another two glasses.

Emma backed away, slowly finding herself in the midst of the crowds before disappearing into the secret corridor behind the portrait of one of her ancestors. It was a passageway she and Leo found a few years ago, and it has been their way of escaping the balls, or any royal duties for that matter. Leo enjoyed the balls, but when talking to other kingdoms about finances, that was when it got boring. Unfortunately as the heir, Emma had to stay for those meetings. Luckily tonight there was no need to discuss politics, it was her parents anniversary. Nobody would notice if she slipped away for a few hours. These balls went on for far too long, she would come back and dance with one of her suitors, pleasing her mother incase she suspscted anything.

She was on her way to her chamber when she heard rustling and footsteps up ahead. Worried it may be one of the guards who will inevitably escort her back into the ball, she hides behind the nearest corner to see what was going on. The noise she realised was coming from the throne room, which nobody, even the guards shouldn’t be in during the ball.

Oh no. No. The mystery man was filling his pockets with their jewels. He was a thief

“Charles, was it?” Emma says as she approaches the doorway.

The mystery man turns around slowly to face her, “I can explain.”

Emma scoffs. “Can you explain how you disguise yourself as a prince, snuck into my castle, to my parents' ball without a legitimate invitation, distracted me long enough so you can sneak in and steal from us?”  

The stranger is lost for words. 

“You're a pirate.” It’s not a question, she can tell by his accent now, he was from all over, the way he danced, it wasn’t due to practise, only a thief could move so swiftly.

“That I am Princess. Now if you don’t mind, I’ll be heading off.” He’s quick on his feet as he prepares to climb the ledge leading to the open window. But Emma was faster.

Emma grabs the sword to her right, her father’s sword, and launches it above his head, perfect aim, perfect execution. He’s startled, and confused, which gives Emma the perfect amount of time to grab the dagger hidden inside her dress and shove the Pirate against the wall with the dagger at his throat. She had started carrying one on her person since one of the suitors attempted to take advantage of her once, thankfully her fist was stronger and knocked him out, but has carried a small dagger in case of emergency ever since,

The Pirate was in disbelief, clearly bewildered by the way a Princess was able to move as stealthily as he and had the courage and guts to go up against him.

“Return my jewels and be gone. Pirate.” She sneers still holding the dagger at his throat.

The Pirate just chuckles, “You are a feisty one, Princess.”

Suddenly the Pirate counteracts Emma’s movements, sweeping his leg unde hers causing her to stumble, losing her footing as well as her grip on the dagger and within a second he has her suddenly on her back, arms pinned down by her side. “You know there are much more enjoyable things I prefer to do with a woman on her back.”

He was really flirting with death right now. There was a gold box next to her head from his plundering, she pretends to struggle under his grip and manages to grab a ring box just within her grap, slowly bringing it up and hitting him over the head with it. “I win.”

The Pirate falls to the ground and Emma gets off the floor and composes herself before calling the guards to take him away.

______

“Ems please say you’re not sneaking out again. Mother and Father almost caught me in my lies last time!” Leo walks by Emma’s chamber seeing her getting changed into “commoner” clothes. Emma had been sneaking out of the castle at night for years, going to the tavern, pretending she isn’t a princess for a few short hours.

“I know I’m sorry but I’ll bring you back a beer!” She knew exactly how to tempt her brother, he was only 13 so it was easy to bribe him with alcohol as nobody at the balls would serve him.

Leo rolls his eyes, “Ugh fine. I’m going to bed though, I don’t want to be caught lying, mother will stop my archery lessons.”

“I love you little brother!” Emma kisses his cheek and opens up the doors to the balcony and begins her descent down the vines.

“Younger. Brother.” Leo sighs as he sees her wave when she’s safely on the ground.

And so Emma puts the hood of her cloak over her head and makes her way to the  to the local tavern, she climbs on her trusted steed, the one Leo had managed to acquire earlier and tie to the tree nearest her room.  It’s about a 20 minute ride, it takes longer to walk if she cannot acquire a horse for the night but Emma knows the schedules of the stable staff, she knows which ones will be on and off which night and the ones who are sloppier and wouldn’t notice a horse missing the next morning.

“Ems. The usual?” August, the barman who knows her secret asks.

Emma nods. August knew her before she was a princess, they were friends growing up, and he was once a puppet. They’ve kept each other’s secrets, and August let Emma hideout in his tavern when she needed to.

She sits in a corner and just watches the world go by in front of her. She longs for normality like the people she sees, but knows she can’t have it. One day she will be Queen, and if her parents have their way, married to one of her suitors. But she longed for the life where she wasn’t under a watchful eye, always making sure her hair and clothes were perfect before appearing in public spaces. Being careful what she says and to not get into any arguments or debates. She didn’t even have the freedom to eat and drink what she liked, only being served one glass of wine at every ball to make sure she would be in the right headspace. 

She started sneaking out 2 years ago. The first time she snuck out, it was to see if she could do it, to see if she could pretend to be normal for a few hours. It felt great, nobody recognised her, nobody looked in her direction unless serving her a drink. She could flirt with a handsome man and not be reprimanded. She was free. For the first time since becoming a Princess, she felt free.

“A woman as beautiful as you shouldn’t be drinking alone.” She hears a man's voice say. She smiles and looks up, but her smile quickly fades.

“You!” It was the damn pirate from the ball.

“Princess?” The pirate replies also recognising her.

“Say a word and I’ll end you,” she pulls a dagger out from under her cloak reminding him of what she can do with said weapon. “How did you get out of the dungeon anyway?”

The pirate sits down across from her. “Pirate, remember? I’ve gotten out of worse traps before.

Emma rolls her eyes at him, she doesn’t remember inviting him to sit down.

“You are a feisty one Princess.” He smirks, and Emma suddenly sees his right hand, or lack of it rather. In place of a hand, he has a hook. 

“Hook?” She whispers, almost to herself but he overhears.

“Ah so you’ve heard of me.” 

Indeed she has. Horrible stories, the most ruthless pirate in all the lands. She should be afraid, in fear of her life. But there’s something about him, something inside of her telling her not to be afraid.

“You seem to know my name and my story lass, and yet I know nothing of you. Unless you want me to call you ‘Princess’ all evening, but then someone may recognise Princess Emma.” He says the last part in a low whisper, checking to see if they had company listening in.

Emma had found herself in situations like this before, needing an alias in case the unthinkable happened, so she gives him the name she’d become accustomed to the past few years “call me Swan.”

“Well then Swan, don’t make a man drink alone.” He grabs the bottle of whiskey, or rum whatever it was and pours out two glasses.

“Fine. I’ll have one drink with you. But that is it. I don’t trust you” 

Hook smirks as he pours them a drink. “Ah but you don’t even know me. So tell me, what is a princess like yourself doing in a tavern amongst us peasants?” Hook asks as he takes a swing from his flask. 

“I wasn't always a Princess.” she decides to take a leap out of his book and not reveal everything about herself right away, he could easily betray her tomorrow morning.

“Well now I’m just more intrigued by you. Just who are you, Swan?” He looks at Emma as if trying to understand her story by the way she carries herself.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Emma teases. Emma had flirted with many random strangers in the tavern, it was nice to flirt with an attractive man of her choosing, someone her parents wanted her to marry. Whilst she had never flirted with a Pirate before, she didn’t see the harm, he was attractive, she danced with him at the ball for a reason. 

“Perhaps I would.” Hook says in a now husky voice as he pours the two of them more rum from the bottle he stole from a table nearby.

__

One drink slowly turns into two, then two into three. And so on. He’s easy to talk to, and a good listening ear. It was crazy to hear that he had been on so many adventures, gone months at sea not knowing where he was going until they blindly found land. 

“I’ve never left Misthaven.” She admits. All she wants is to explore the world, especially when she can barely leave her castle without sneaking out.

“Come aboard my ship lass and you can have all the adventures you want.” Hook had just just met this woman and yet there was something about her, it was like when he met Milah all those years ago, but this was different. So very different. 

Emma did not expect to enjoy her night of freedom in the company of a pirate and a thief. He was very handsome, there was a reason she danced with him at the ball. Talking to him came naturally, the most natural thing in the world and she wasn’t afraid of telling him her fears of being an unfit ruler. “As much as I would love to sail the world with you, I must return home before morning light or my parents will send a search party for me.”

“When can I see you again?” Hook felt strange asking this. Milah was the last woman he saw more than once, normally he would bed a woman and then move on to the next. Emma was different though, he felt the need to spend as much time as he could with her and the thought of not seeing her again didn’t feel right.

Emma smiles and all Hook wants to do is see her smile more. “I can come back to the tavern in three days time. But in two weeks my parents are travelling up to the northern kingdoms and I’ll be able to stay a while longer. You can show me your ship.” 

This was not what Emma had expected when she climbed out her window just a few hours ago. And neither realised how much would change after this night. 

This is me praying that this was the very first page

Not where the story line ends

My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again

These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon

I was enchanted to meet you

[foxglovecove]

Alright currently obsessed with this for the moment…my idea for the Headless Horseman’s backstory

Name: Thomas Amsler

Nationality: German (state of Hesse-Cassel)

Age (at time of death): 21

Still working out the details but so far what I have is below the cut:

Dates might have to adjust once I do more research…

His family is poor and to help once he’s of age (17) he joins the German Army. A few years later his unit is selected to go fight in some revolution or another in the British Colonies. All members of the unit are promised a large bonus at the end of the war and they’re shipped out in 1780 (3 years before the end of the American Revolution, he’s 18).

The unit is excited to get to fight in a “real war” and their spirits are high when they arrive. That doesn’t last long and many of the unit end up dying or deserting. Not Thomas though. While he could care less about the British “cause,” he knows his family needs the money the soldiers were promised so he sticks to it.

Meanwhile during one particularly bad winter in 1782 his squad is sheltered in a farm with a family that’s supposedly loyal to the British. The family consists of mom, dad, two young boys, and three daughters (all to be named later).

I can’t not have romance in anything I do so of course Thomas and one of the daughters fall in love. Unfortunately another soldier, one of the British also sheltering there for the winter, has taken a liking to this same daughter. The daughter has been mildly interested but mostly as a flirtation, no real feelings involved unlike those she develops for Thomas.

British soldier (also to be named later) doesn’t like that Thomas has “taken his girl” (he hasn’t). There is a one-sided rivalry between the two. Thomas tries to befriend the guy but the guy is an ass.

Cut to August 1783, one of the last few battles of the war. Thomas and the daughter have secret plans to marry once it’s over and stay in the colonies regardless of who wins, though by now they’re both rooting for the colonists to win independence. The British soldier has found out about their plans and will do anything to stop them so he can marry her instead.

The battle is almost over, British soldier sees the canon and that Thomas, atop his horse, is right in its path. He doesn’t warn him and that’s when tragedy strikes. The canon ball kills Thomas and the horse.

After the battle is over Thomas’ best friend goes to the farm to tell the daughter what happened. She’s devastated but she also can’t let go. She insists on seeing Thomas’ body but by then he’s been buried so she demands he take her to his grave.

She requests she be left alone to say goodbye. She stays for a while, long after the sun has gone down. She grabs some things from the satchel she’s brought with her. They’re tools for a ritual. She knows she can’t bring him back but she can make it so that he’s not really gone. She has dabbled in witchcraft, taught by her mother, is part of a long line of witches.

She does the ritual but nothing seems to happen. She’s in tears but finally says goodbye.

Cut to a year later…

1784

She’s now being courted by the evil British guy. She doesn’t know he could’ve prevented Thomas’ death. Her father makes the match despite her and her mom’s protests. She is miserable but resigned to her fate. Her heart still belongs to Thomas but she knows she’ll be secure in the match with the British soldier.

It’s approaching the anniversary of the day Thomas died and weird things start to happen. People claim to see a shadowy figure riding through the forest.

October, two months later: The family is hosting a Harvest Dance and British soldier announces his engagement to the daughter at the party. Everyone is cheering and having a good time when a huge gust of wind and rain blows open the barn doors, blowing out all the candles. The music stops, people are trying to find matches and ways to light the candles again.

A silhouette approaches through the storm. A man riding on a horse. At first people pay no mind to it, just another neighbor who’s come to join the festivities. But, as the figure gets closer, a terrified silence falls over the group for the rider appears not to have a head. In his left hand is one of the Jack-o-lanterns that decorated the path to the barn.

Someone screams as the figure hurls the pumpkin at the British soldier, burning him and knocking him out cold.

The horse rears up and a ghostly shriek echoes as the figure turns and rides off towards the forest, disappearing into the darkness.

The daughter tries to run after but is stopped by her mother.

“What have you done, child?” says the mom, horrified.

“What I had to do,” she replies. “I couldn’t let him go.”

[libertyreads]

March TBR--

My goal for the month of March is to read a few preplanned books while also making room for some mood reads. I'm also going to be on vacation with my husband for about 10 days so there were probably be a few days in there without any reading.

Mask of Shadows by Linsey Miller-- Sallot Leon is a thief who wants to audition to become a member of The Left Hand--the Queen's personal assassins--in order to infiltrate the court and get revenge on the people who destroyed their home. But the audition is a fight to the death filled with clever acrobats, lethal apothecaries, and vicious ex-soldiers. A childhood as a common criminal hardly prepared them for the trials. I love the idea of these trials and I'm just imagining scenes like the first Throne of Glass book or even the first Nevernight book. I really need to get to this one.

2. The Library of the Dead by T.L. Huchu-- In this one we follow Ropa who dropped out of school to become a ghostalker. She speaks with the dead and passes on messages to the living. But what she once thought of as harmless turns anything but as the dead whisper that someone's bewitching children--leaving them husks, empty of joy and life. Rosa feels honor-bound to investigate, but what she learns will change her world.

3. Inkheart by Cornelia Funke-- This is a well loved book at this point and I picked it up at a library sale over a year back (I think) where I got it for less than a dollar. It's a middle grade novel about Meggie whose father reads aloud from a book called Inkheart which somehow allows the villain to escape the boundaries of the book and land in their living room. Meggie is soon embroiled in her own adventure, the kind she's only read about in books. It seems fun and I want to see what all of the hype is about.

4. A Prayer for the Crown-Shy by Becky Chambers-- Book #2 in the Monk & Robot duology. This is a quieter sci-fi/futuristic story about what happens when robots choose to leave humanity in order to do what's best for them. But one day a tea monk meets a robot with a question: What do humans need? I didn't love the first book the way I expected to given the way others talk about this book. But I realized that it was probably a me problem based on IRL issues at the time. So I'm giving the second one a shot.

5. Silver in the Bone by Alexandra Bracken(NetGalley)-- Another one that I absolutely cannot wait to get around to reading. This is the first book in a series inspired by Arthurian legend fueled by love, revenge, and adrenaline. We follow Tamsin Lark is a mortal with no magical talent who was never supposed to break into ancient crypts or compete with sorceresses for the treasures inside. But it's the only way to keep herself and her brother, Cabell, alive. There's more to the synopsis about a ring that could cure a curse and what Tamsin must do to get her hands on it, but I feel like this is more than enough to go on. I still want some surprises as I'm reading.

6. Teen Titans: Robin by Kami Garcia(New Release)-- Another entry in the Teen Titans series. We follow Raven, Garfield, Maxine, and Damian as they are on the run from Slade Wilson and H.I.V.E. But Dick Grayson just wants to know what happened to his brother. Does he need help? Why hasn't he been in contact? Why did his tracking device go silent? I love me some Wayne family so bring it on. When I started the Teen Titans series I was still pretty skeptical about graphic novels and comics so seeing myself so excited for the new installment makes me happy. We call that growth.

7. Blood Debts by Terry J. Benton-Walker (NetGalley)-- Thirty years ago, a young woman was murdered, a family was lynched, and New Orleans saw the greatest magical massacre in its history. In the days that followed, a throne was stolen from a queen. On the anniversary of these brutal events, Clement and Cristina Trudeau are mourning their father and caring for their sick mother. Until, by chance, they discover isn't sick--she's cursed. Another New Orleans set story with magic at its center? I will take it!

[jdgo51]

Outserve Each Other Today's inspiration comes from: Praying the Scriptures for Your Marriage by Jodie Berndt Editor’s Note: We’re huge fans of Jodie Berndt’s books here at FaithGateway (and we know you are too), which is why we’re sooooo excited that it’s launch day for her newest book, Praying the Scriptures for Your Marriage! Enjoy this exclusive excerpt and don’t miss our deals on the paperback and the beautifully designed hardcover, which makes a great wedding or anniversary gift for any couple you know! "'Married life is waking up early to preheat your spouse’s car in the winter (and then taking ten dollars out of their wallet as a tip for your services). “Be ready to do whatever is good.” “Use whatever gift you have received to serve others.” “Serve one another humbly in love.”1 Our contemporary culture holds a dim view of service — we’d rather be served than serve — but at some gut-instinct level, we know that putting our spouse’s needs ahead of our own makes for a healthy and enjoyable marriage. Paul’s counsel to husbands and wives to “submit to one another” sounds like the right thing to do.2 But knowing the right thing to do and actually doing it are two different things. Which is why, just a few verses earlier, Paul gives us the critical how-to: “Be filled with the Spirit.” Being filled with the Spirit allows us to love others in ways that don’t always come naturally. It empowers us to let go of our self-centered desires and live lives marked by things like patience, goodness, gentleness, and self-control.3 And it marks us with the same self-sacrificing humility that Jesus displayed, whether He was washing His disciples’ dirty feet or, as Philippians 2:8 puts it, humbling Himself and becoming “obedient to death — even death on a cross!” This Philippians passage, with its call to “have the same mindset as Christ Jesus” (2:5) — loving as He did, pursuing unity as He did, putting others first as He did — offers a template for our relationships.4 Early in our marriage, Robbie and I heard Dr. Tony Evans talk about what this pattern looked like in his own marriage. Having purposed to value each other’s interests ahead of their own, Evans and his wife began going out of their way to help each other. At some point, Evans said, it became a contest — one he found himself losing. “I couldn’t believe it,” Evans said with a laugh. “She was outserving me. I had to figure out how to catch up!” Evans’s message took hold in our hearts, and Robbie and I began looking for opportunities to honor each other. Robbie likes things tidy, and while I knew I couldn’t match his mother’s “get the dust off the top of the refrigerator” talent, the kids and I began playing “beat the buzzer” every night before he came home. I’d set the kitchen timer and we’d scramble to pick up toys and clean the counters. On my good days, I’d even rummage in my purse to find the lip gloss as Robbie’s car pulled into the driveway. (And if I just lost half of the women readers, I’m sorry. But never once did I feel like I was caught in some 1950s time warp. Instead, I saw these little acts of service — and my lips, on some days — as, to use our friend Davis’s word, “beautiful.”) For his part, Robbie began doing things like vacuuming my (dog-hair-and-Cheerios-infested) car or bringing me coffee — sometimes from an actual coffee shop, which he knows is my love language and counts double on the service scale, since a little part of him dies inside every time he pays for something we can get for free at home. Putting our spouse’s needs ahead of our own makes for a healthy and enjoyable marriage. Somewhere along the way — we can’t pinpoint when — something shifted inside us. We began to truly enjoy these tangible ways to show love and respect. It became, like our friend Lisa says, a “pleasure and a delight.” And although I don’t feel deserving of Robbie’s tenderness, the word he uses for the way he regards me is cherish, and when I noticed that a book by that title had been published, I grabbed it. “Millions of couples,” writes author Gary Thomas, “have pledged ‘to love and to cherish, till death do us part.’” Most of us understand the love part and the implied vow to serve and commit to one another, but it is the act of cherishing, Thomas says, that “turns marriage from an obligation into a delight. It lifts marriage above a commitment to a precious priority.”5 Serving your spouse — cherishing them as precious — looks different in every marriage. Bob took his children to garage sales on Saturday mornings, not because they needed more stuff, but because it gave his wife, Anne, a chance to have the house to herself at the start of the weekend. Whit turns the bed down every night and puts his wife, Susan’s, iPad on her pillow, since he knows she loves to read. I stopped wearing ruffles (after having an umpteen hundred of them on my puffball of a wedding dress) when I learned (later) that they don’t appeal to Robbie. None of these things are “grand” gestures. They may go unmarked by everyone but our spouse. And yet in a social media age when everyone wants to be seen and noticed, it is exactly these little gifts of time, these self-sacrificing kindnesses, that kindle lasting love in a marriage. “Real romance,” writes Ann Voskamp, “isn’t measured by how viral any wedding proposal goes — and viral is closely associated with sickness — but it’s the moments of self-forgetfulness: Setting the table at the end of a long day and rustling up some hearty dish for those who have your heart, and then — without any cameras rolling or soundtracks playing — clearing the plates to make your own love perfectly clear — this is the way of robust romance.”6 Robust romance. Isn’t that what we all want? The way to get there isn’t through grasping; it is through yielding. Yielding our plans, our desires, our very self — and submitting out of reverence for the One who is Love Himself to the one whom we cherish. Remember Serve one another humbly in love. — Galatians 5:13 Reflect We love because God first loved us. The more we soak up this truth, the more our love will increase and overflow for our spouse. Think about your own awareness of God’s love for you. Do you sense His delight? Do you feel forgiven? Can you trace a link between your relationship with the Lord and your desire to serve and honor your spouse?"' Titus 3:1; 1 Peter 4:10; Galatians 5:13. Ephesians 5:18. These traits and the other fruit of the Spirit are listed in Galatians 5:22–23 (ESV). Philippians 2:5. Gary Thomas, Cherish: The One Word That Changes Everything for Your Marriage (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2017), 17. Ann Voskamp, Waymaker: Finding the Way to the Life You’ve Always Dreamed Of (Nashville: W Publishing, 2022), 71. Excerpted with permission from Praying the Scriptures for Your Marriage by Jodie & Robbie Berndt, copyright Jodie Berndt.

[a-spell-a-rebel-yell]

December

wow, i'm sooo good at procrastinating. hehe hi pals, hope you're all doing great! i swear i promised myself i'll write the Dec post on Dec 31st, 2022, but i managed to post this one on Jan 1st, 2023 :-) oh well.

don't blame me for spending quality time with my family and cousins for the new year's eve! i got distracted (again, for the 28648236th time) it was so fun, with my mum's guidance we cooked our favourite spicy Tom Yum, penne bolognese, and kimchi fried rice!!! yes, it was a Thai-Italian-Korean meals day kind of thing.

then as we count down the last hours of 2022 we did the family tradition: horror films marathon! this time we're exploring/rewatching Indonesian horror films. we got KKN Desa Penari, Pintu Terlarang, Modus Anomali, and then Pengabdi Setan 2. yes, in this house we love Joko Anwar's works.

in the last five minutes of 2022 we got up, stretched, went outside, and played with some firecrackers! purposely turned off the garden lights so it'd shone brighter. took photos and videos, then we went back inside. being in the middle of the city, on midnight the noise of fireworks shooting up to the sky was loud. it didn't stop for a whole fifteen minutes, but we enjoyed it: free entertainment!

sleep time yet? nope. it's indomie time!!! we watched a few episodes of How I Met Your Mother and Raven's Home for good ol' times' sake. had more talks, then at 3 AM we all went to bed. went without saying, we woke up pretty late today hehe.

i'm going backwards here because after that Dec 31st review, now let's talk about December in general. as usual, as predicted, it was a-ok month, just like any other month. i think the highlight that is the Labuan Bajo trip is already covered in the November post. on second week of December i had a scientific forum meeting and i got to see some of my Weekend Ceria besties! it was a bit of a funny coincidence that our little reunion was just a little bit over one year anniversary of our national dentist board exam day... though now each of us is so busy with our own work, it's getting super hard to find time for us to meet u___u

on last week of December my favorite Brisbane-based cousin came home to Indonesia for a three-weeks vacay! so happy to see her again and this time i get to meet her boyfriend (which after a lengthy session of interrogation i found is so nice and so in tune with me, so he passed my test haha) and we're planning a cousins sleepover this first week of January (will do write the story on the next post!) still kinda sad though because another favorite cousin of mine just moved to Frankfurt a few months back and he said he won't be coming back to Indonesia for approximately five years. the cherry on top is getting another cousin i haven't met in so long to join us in this little gathering!

overall this month i get to spend a lot of time with my family and cousins, which energized me to the fullest. 2022 has been nice to me and i'm so excited with what 2023 has to offer. i have no room in my life other than for these people, my loved ones, my immediate family. again and again i'm so grateful for my mum and dad, the solid rock and pillar and foundation of my life, that are always there for me, no matter what and when, in the most literal sense. late night talks with my mum and alone dates with my dad are my talisman, i carry their light, i have them with me wherever i go.

this year i'm so glad to finally know and learned which ones to keep, when to walk away, put healthy and respectable boundaries, to fight and try again, and to keep on going despite all. to finally know what i want and look for, and to never be sorry to save myself first. to do good and be good. to believe and trust time and Allah's plans, whatever is mine will find its way to me, sooner or later.

so, happy new year to you lot! wishing 2023 to bring us all only good things and happy days all year round. especially for you, the one and only you, over there across the world, just like how i've told you so many times over eighteen long years we've been best friends: i hope you're always happy, healthy, and loved.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Family Ties // Benedict Bridgerton

Request: hey lovie!! i wanna start by saying i adore your writing for bridgerton and harry potter and i always find myself coming back to it,, if you’re up for it, would you mind writing a benedict imagine? i was thinking something sweet and domestic?? like maybe him and the reader have kids and they’re going to visit the rest of the family? take it however you want!! <3 - @ddaeng-danvers​

A/N: Thank you so much!! I truly hope you like this. This is the first thing I've written in close to a month now and I love how happy it is. There’s love, and family, and fluff. I am so happy with it. This features characters seen in the prequel books ‘The Rokesby’s’ - I finished reading book 2 today and I think I'm going to own all of Quinn’s books by the time we reach summer.

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: children, marriage, fluff, female reader, she/her pronouns, bridgertons being bridgertons, family fluff, love, romance, kissing, cute, mentions of pregnancy. SPOILERS FOR THE PREQUEL SERIES BUT I CANT BE SORRY, I LOVE GEORGE TOO MUCH.

Word count: 3.3k

Giggles and gasps lighten the morning air as you take those first steps outside. The grass is still wet with morning dew and it dampens the hem of your dress, but you cannot bring yourself to care as the laughter of your children surrounds you.

“You can’t catch me!” Your daughter declares, laughing loudly as her steps quicken on the slick grass.

A quiet smile crosses your face as you watch the scene unfold in front of you.

Your daughter, Violet, continues to laugh wildly as Benedict grabs her from behind, lifting her onto his shoulders. She settles there quickly; having spent a lot of time on Benedict’s shoulders when her little legs wore themselves out from running and exploring.

“My love,” Benedict greets, smiling widely at you, “Did you sleep well?”

“I did until I realised I was alone.”

Benedict casts his eyes upwards, gesturing to the four year old currently busying herself with trying to tidy the permanently messy locks of her father. “Someone,” Benedict emphasises with another glance upwards, “Woke up too early and I didn’t want to wake you.”

Your body warms at the obvious love in Benedict’s voice – for you, for his daughter. Close to a decade being married and he has every capacity to reduce you to a lovestruck fool. It’s perfect, really.

Chuckling, you gaze lovingly at your daughter. “Did you wake your father up?”

She nods; not an ounce of apology on her small face as she continues to mess up Benedict’s hair. “I couldn’t sleep anymore,” she defends, “I’m excited to see Grandma Violet.”

“I’m sure she’s excited to see you too,” Benedict comments, reaching for his pocket watch to check the time. “We’ll have to be setting off soon. Are we all packed?”

You nod, meeting the loving eyes of your husband. “The footmen have everything covered. Where is John?”

Benedict gestures to the overgrowth behind him. “He joined us when Violet wouldn’t keep quiet. He shouldn’t be too far behind.”

“I’ll go in search. Get Violet ready for me?”

Benedict nods, smiling down at you before dropping the first kiss of many to your lips. You watch the pair leave; Violet chattering away about the birds singing in the trees before heading off in search for your eldest child.

“John Edmund Bridgerton,” you call out, voice loud in the quiet garden, “Where have you gotten to?”

“I’m over here,” John calls; his dark brown curls popping up between the rose bushes.

“Shall we head inside? We need to get ready to make the journey to London.”

John smiles, making his way to your side. “You look more like your father every day,” You comment absentmindedly, running a hand through your son’s hair.

John flushes at the compliment; his father was an exceptionally strong man as well as incredibly talented in whatever he pursues. “Thank you,” John replies, reaching for your hand to begin the walk back to your home.

---------

Bridgerton House had always grown violet hyacinths; they perfumed the air, making every inhale sweeter than the last. The door to the Bridgerton London home is opened before you get chance to place your feet on the ground after stepping down from the carriage.

Benedict steadies you as you straighten your skirts whilst trying to keep an eye on your children, making sure they hadn’t fallen out of the carriage. The laughter of your children floating on air has the tightness in your chest relaxing.

You take a moment to stand beside your husband, enjoying the feel of his hands on your waist. It had been so long since a moment alone had been found between the two of you; one of you running after Violet before she scared off another governess. Her stubbornness was to be admired, but it made it hard to teach her the basics in terms of literacy.

“Are you alright?” Benedict asks, noticing your hesitancy.

You smile widely at the love of your life. “I’m fine, my love. I just wanted to be close to you.”

Benedict’s face softens at your confession; he would be the first to admit that he found himself missing you even when he was sat next to you. There were no problems in your marriage but being so busy meant that there was little time for the two of you.

Benedict takes your hand; dropping a kiss to the back of it before turning it over and placing a lingering kiss to your wrist, over your pulse point. You gasp at the intimacy of it, your toes curling at the promise in his eyes.

“Mama!” Violet cries, taking your hand and dragging you through the house in the direction of the portrait gallery with all her might.

You chuckle, turning to Benedict with a helpless look on your face. He holds his hands up, letting you take the lead with your headstrong daughter. “I shall announce our arrival,” Benedict laughs, blue eyes focused on the way his daughter’s slippers slip and slide on the marble tiles of the entrance hall. “John,” He calls, “Would you like to join me?”

Imperceptibly, John takes a step in your direction. An incredibly smart but shy boy from birth, you sometimes worried over his place in the loud, boisterous family of the Bridgertons. “If it’s okay, I want to see where mother and Violet are going.”

“Of course,” Benedict smiles, ruffling John’s hair, knowing how he needed to get used to a new environment before feeling comfortable.

Benedict presses a kiss to your mouth and then to your cheek before taking the steps two at a time to hurry to the drawing room where he can greet his mother and siblings before answering their questions about your whereabouts.

Letting yourself be led through the ornate home of Violet Bridgerton, you can’t help but smile at the determinedness of your daughter. Her little feet stomping away on the marble tiles as she pulls you to the portrait gallery – her favourite place in the whole house bar her grandmother’s knee.

The gallery hasn’t had a new addition to its walls in years; the last painting being of Anthony and Kate on their fifth anniversary. Violet saw it as fitting that their London home had an up to date portrait of Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton. Anthony had argued, but one look from his mother had him falling silent – knowing a losing battle when he sees one.

Generations of Bridgertons line the walls; their famous blue eyes watching the latest generation walk the halls of their once home. John remains silent by your side as he meets the gaze of the men of which his name is descended; if he feels their pressure at such a young age, he doesn’t say.

One painting catches your eye. A young woman and her husband; his hand is resting on her shoulder as she remains seated. They both stare out of the painting; their eyes filled with the stories of generations passed but utterly silent on the matter.

“Who is this?” Violet asks, effectively distracted by the bright colours of the painting.

“That’s your Great Aunt Billie and her husband,” You comment absently, mind occupied with Billie Bridgerton’s eyes.

“Have we met her?” John asks, hand reaching for yours.

“You have, John. She and the Rokesby clan came to your christening. I doubt you remember, you were so young, my darling.”

John flushes at your use of his childhood pet name. Not even ten years old and he was already growing too old for such things, but you didn’t care – he would always be your darling, your first born, the very boy that made you a mother.

“Where are they now?”

“I suppose they are still at Crake House in Kent. We should have to pay them a visit the next time we visit your Uncle Anthony.”

“Can we?” Violet asks, her Bridgerton blue eyes wide with promise and excitement.

“If your father allows it, I see no problem with it.”

The children seem placated at that. With their hands in yours, you make your way to the drawing room where the rest of the family have gathered. Benedict spies you immediately despite being deep in conversation with Colin and Hyacinth; his body and soul finetuned to your presence – feeling uplifted when you’re beside him, feeling as if he was missing a vital part of himself in your absence.

“Grandma Violet!” Your youngest child cries, launching herself for the skirts of the Bridgerton matriarch. Her small arms barely make their way around the legs of the elderly woman who cannot contain her amused giggle at the exploits of her granddaughter. Instead, she gathers young Violet in her arms, placing her on her knee to get a better look at her.

“You have grown,” The matriarch murmurs, brushing back the dark brown hair of her granddaughter.

“John!” Anthony calls, drawing the attention of his nephew. Releasing your hand, John crosses the room to talk to his beloved uncle; the topic of conversation, you know not but they both look incredibly animated and devoted to the matter.

“Where were you?” A low voice sounds in your ears, making you jump. The voice turns amused as a low chortle escapes your husband’s mouth. “I’m sorry, my love,” he offers in apology as an arm wraps itself around your waist, tugging you closer to him.

“If you must know, we were in the portrait gallery.”

“What drew you there?”

“Your daughter,” You comment, tone amused.

Benedict moves to inquire further but is cut off but the gong signalling that dinner has been served. At once, the family moves as one – all ravenous and desperate to begin their meal.

“(Y/N)!” Colin calls out, catching up to you on the way to the dining room.

“Colin,” You greet fondly, “How is married life?”

“Wonderful,” Colin sighs, “Penelope is… Penelope is wonderful.”

You laugh, elbowing the third eldest Bridgerton. “Surely, you remember the early days of your marriage,” Colin states, “The honeymoon period.”

“It doesn’t leave you,” You reply, catching sight of the love of your life just ahead of you. His head is bent as he reaches for the hand of your daughter; her whole hand wrapped around one of his fingers. It sends your heart into a tizzy as you inhale sharply; the love you feel for Benedict Bridgerton could rival the love of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy, of the sonnets written by William Shakespeare himself.

“No,” Colin comments, glancing between you and Benedict, “I don’t suppose it does.”

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

Dinner with a large Bridgerton crowd was never a quiet feat; conversations flowed in every direction. Societal propriety non-existent as everyone spoke over each other; happy to have the company of their siblings, nieces and nephews, sons and daughters.

“Anthony,” You begin, reaching for your glass as you draw the attention of the head of the family, “When would you next be at Aubrey Hall?”

“Kate, the children, and I travel back in two days. Why?”

“We were in the portrait gallery earlier. Violet was rather taken with a portrait of Billie Bridgerton and her husband, George. If Benedict has no qualms, could we travel with you? I think Violet would like to meet them.”

Anthony beams; rather liking the idea of bringing the Rokesby’s back into their lives once more. “I must admit that I haven’t travelled to Crake House in a long time. What a terrible nephew I must seem.”

Violet frowns, picking at the food on her plate. “What a terrible sister-in-law, I must be. It must be close to a year, probably longer since I’ve seen Billie and George. Longer since I’ve seen Edward and Cecilia.”

“That does it,” Anthony declares, “We shall all travel to Aubrey Hall before dropping in on Crake House.”

Meeting Benedict’s eyes across the table you smile at the clear affection written on his face. “You have no objections do you, my love?”

He shakes his head. “Never, my love.”

Turning your attention to Anthony, you nod your affirmation. “Should we write in advance of leaving here?”

Anthony wipes his mouth with his napkin. “I’ll send a missive with the morning messenger; if I tip generously then there shouldn’t be an issue.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind,” Violet adds absently, “I just can’t believe I’ve left it this long. I’m so rarely in Kent and they never journey to London.”

Colin reaches to his right, placing his hand on top of his mother’s. “They will more than understand. Aunt Billie was father’s sister after all. I think even Aunt Billie finds it hard to return to Aubrey Hall.”

“Then it’s decided,” Benedict smiles, “We shall journey to Aubrey Hall and get settled there before descending on Crake House.”

“Do you think Gregory would like to join us?” You ask, thinking of your youngest brother-in-law.

“He’s in his final term at Oxford,” Colin replies, “He’s sitting all number of exams right now, I don’t think he’ll have the time.”

“A shame,” Anthony comments, thinking of his youngest brother and the stress he must be under, “But I’m sure he can complete the journey in the summer.”

“He always was Aunt Billie’s favourite,” Benedict states darkly. You raise your eyebrows at your husband in question. “Gregory struggled with the pronunciation of some plants when he was a child; Aunt Billie thought it was adorable,” He explains, sounding far off as if trapped in a memory of his youth.

Smiling widely at your husband’s tone, you coo, “I’m sure Violet will be her new favourite when we explain what inspired our visit.”

Dismissing all social expectations, Benedict rounds the table, reaching for your hand, pressing a long kiss to the back of it before stating loudly. “You, my love, are a genius.”

“It has been said before,” You laugh, watching your husband return to his seat with promises of the night alight in his eyes. His eyes remain bright as he gazes at you over the rim of his wine glass, no longer paying attention to the conversation pertaining to the history of the Bridgertons and Rokesbys. Instead, his gaze remains fixed on you as he thinks of all the good you have brought to his life – loving him, marrying him, bearing his children. His love for you is endless, and he’ll spend the rest of his life proving that to you.

--------

Crake House was just as grand as Aubrey Hall. The Rokesby’s gaining the favour of the monarch in the seventeenth century leading to an earldom and a rather large estate that bordered on the Bridgerton’s at Aubrey Hall. From then, the two families had been intertwined – as close as two families could get.

“It’s very big,” John comments quietly to Benedict as they leave the carriage.

“Don’t let that intimidate you, John,” Benedict says, “There’s nothing to be worried about.”

As Benedict finishes his sentence, the door to Crake House is pulled open by a strong hand. Deep blue skirts are the first thing you see, and you know that Billie Rokesby nee Bridgerton has arrived.

“Bridgertons!” A feminine voice cries, “I have Bridgertons on my doorstep once more!”

“Billie,” Violet sighs, a fond smile on her face as if the sound of her sister-in-law’s voice has transported her back to times long thought of as memories.

“Anthony Bridgerton,” Billie admonishes as she hurries down the stairs, her elderly frame not a hindrance to her speed whatsoever. “How long have you taken residence in Aubrey Hall? How long has it been since you came to see me?”

“Aunt Billie,” Anthony murmurs, “I don’t suppose you could ever forgive me.”

Billie Rokesby nee Bridgerton eyes her nephew; looking him up and down before taking his face in her strong hands. “Are you well, my boy?”

For a moment, tears shine in Anthony’s eyes as he is reminded of his departed father. He nods wordlessly; trying to get a grip on the feelings rushing through him at the love that emanates from Billie. “I’m well, Aunt Billie.”

Billie nods, stepping back, clearly happy at the information offered by Anthony. She casts her shrewd gaze over her brother’s family; happiness alight in her eyes as she takes sight of your daughter, hiding behind your skirts.

“Who do we have here?” She asks, stepping closer to Benedict and yourself.

“You met John when he was just a babe in arms, but Violet is our youngest,” Benedict introduces, an arm wrapped loosely around your waist.

“Violet?” Billie gasps, dipping at the waist, “Violet Bridgerton, it is an honour to meet you.”

Violet giggles from where she has her face hidden in your legs. You reach down, tapping her on the shoulder. “Come now, sweetheart. Let’s say hello.”

Violet peeks her face out of your skirts, her blue eyes meeting the kind, aged ones of Billie. Violet curtsies, remembering her manners despite her age. “I saw your painting at Grandma’s house.”

“Which one?” Billie asks gently, eyes flickering to the Bridgerton matriarch. “Please tell me it wasn’t the one that Edmund commissioned as an anniversary gift for George and myself.”

Violet Bridgerton covers her mouth to stem the laughter that threatens to bubble over. “The very same.”

Billie huffs, turning to you, “I was six months pregnant, and Edmund thought I would want nothing more than to sit for a whole day with nothing to keep me company.”

“I think you look wonderful,” Your daughter compliments, tripping up on her pronunciation of ‘wonderful’.

Billie’s eyes shine with happiness, “Thank you, my dear.”

“I think our guests might like some tea,” An exasperated but fond voice calls from the doorway. Billie’s face softens at the sound of it; she turns to her husband, finding him watching her with a loving smile on his face.

“They aren’t guests, George. They are my family, and by marriage, your family.”

“All the same, I’m sure they would like something to drink and to rest a little.”

Billie pouts, knowing a losing fight when she saw one. You take in the sight of the pair; their hair had greyed over time, their face becoming wrinkled but their love – it was so palpable, it could be felt in every aspect of their conversation and every expression they sent each other.

Billie and George manage to wrangle the whole Bridgerton clan into their drawing room with promises of food, tea and stories of their mother’s youth. Violet pales at such a promise but Billie’s hand on her arm steadies her.

Your children, John and Violet, join their many cousins on the carpet. They all sit cross legged, eyes intently focused on the elderly couple sitting on the pale green couch. Billie gestures animatedly as she begins one of her many adventurous stories. George leans further back into the cushions, happy to let his wife regale his extended family with the very story of how they had fallen in love. A story told many times, but a story he would never tire of hearing, especially not from his beloved wife’s lips.

You watch all of this from where you sit, perched on the window seat. You smile at the sight of Anthony, Colin and Hyacinth watching Billie with nothing short of wonder written on their faces as they are reminded of the aunt that had explained the way of the land before they had truly understood what it meant to be part of a family with such a large responsibility.

Benedict joins you on the window seat, crossing his legs at the ankles as his heart sings at the sound of his children’s laughter. Silently, he reaches over to take your hand in his. He rests your tangled hands on his thigh; needing you close for a reason he cannot seem to find the words to explain.

“I love you,” You whisper, needing him to hear the words that have begged to be released since you had rolled up to Crake House.

“I love you too,” Benedict responds, his hand tightening around yours.

*********

Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley​

[justmypartner]

Just the Time

Summary: Part 2 to my fic Overtime. When Jay finally acquires the perfect ring for Hailey, he can’t decide on a plan to propose. However, his plans may need to shift when Hailey catches him in a lie.

Writer’s Note: Hi everyone!! I hope you are all surviving hiatus okay! I never thought I’d actually make a part 2 to Overtime (my first fic ever!), but that Upstead proposal had me feeling some type of way. So, in the spirit of proposals I thought it would be a perfect time to write part 2. You don’t have to read Overtime to know what’s going on, but it does provide additional context! As always, thank you so much for reading!!

“It’s perfect,” Jay said as he admired the beautifully dainty piece of jewelry that was finally his and soon to be Hailey’s. An uncontrollable smile came across his face thinking about finally giving it to her, and he knew it was going to be a hard secret to keep.

“I’ll go get a box for you,” the woman behind the counter told him with a friendly smile before disappearing into a back room.

It had been a long few months of saving money and taking overtime shifts, but he finally had enough to buy the ring. It wasn’t a fun or easy journey. He was working normal Intelligence cases, then putting on his old patrol uniform and working night shifts any time they came available. The first gig he and Hailey did together. She thought it was his idea of an unorthodox date and she jumped at the opportunity to see him on patrol, but when he continued to pursue overtime gigs without her, she began to question why he was so desperate for money. He was able to come up with an excuse that he wanted to do some modifications to his truck. Luckily, she wasn’t invested enough to question him further, but the extra work was beginning to wear him down and this did not go unnoticed by her. Seeing him continue to take the gigs despite how exhausted he was, led her to question his intentions once again. He was only one paycheck away from finally having enough money to pay off the ring when she suggested he slow things down for a while to recover from the heavy load he had taken on. He agreed and her skepticism began to cool back down.

The drive home was spent with a hundred ideas circulating in his brain about the proposal. He’d been trying to come up with an idea since he picked out the ring, but his indecisiveness stood in the way of any real plans. Their one year anniversary was coming up, and he knew he wanted to propose then, however, he just wasn’t sure how. Proposing after just one year together may be too soon for any normal couple, but they weren’t any normal couple. He spent years loving her, wasting time burying his feelings, but now he was done wasting time. She was his future, his forever person, and he wanted to make that official.

The ring was perfect, he just needed a proposal that matched its level of unique simplicity. He knew her, and he knew she wouldn’t want anything too traditionally girly or extravagant, but he also knew she deserved something special. Not something cliche like popping the question in a restaurant or hiding the ring in the bottom of a champagne glass. It needed to be deeper than that and it needed to represent them, he just wasn’t sure what that would look like. His brainstorming was cut short when he pulled up outside of their building. He eyed the ring resting on the seat beside him, and he knew whatever idea he came up with wouldn’t hold a flame to the happiness he’d have when he finally slipped that ring on her finger. He didn’t want to bring the box up to the apartment on the off chance she would accidentally come across it. She was an elite detective after all. So, he locked it in the glove compartment of his truck and made his way upstairs.

“There you are!” He heard her call out from the kitchen as he opened the door. The smell of coffee and waffles filled the room, and he smiled to himself, knowing her weekend routine like the back of his hand.

“Hi, beautiful,” he told her, making his way around the counter to leave a peck on her lips.

A frown came across her face when he pulled away as her eyes traveled down to his empty hands before making their way back up to his face.

“I thought you said you were going to the store?” She questioned, her brow furrowed as the words left her mouth.

It took everything in him not to express the panic in his mind. In the excitement of finally getting the ring, he forgot to actually go to the store, the errand he told her he was running when she questioned why he was quietly escaping the bed earlier that morning.

“I- well I got out the door and Will called saying he needed my help. He locked himself out of his car, so he called me for the spare. By the time I got over there, I figured it would be too late to go to the store, so I just came back here. I can go out after work,” he told her, leaning forward to leave another light kiss on her lips. He was grateful for his experience in undercover that allowed him to think of an excuse on the fly.

She nodded, but she wasn’t fully convinced of his story. She grew up in an environment that had her consistently questioning the truth behind what she was told by her loved ones. She never felt the need to do that with Jay, something she found comfort in. But in that moment, she noticed a familiar hesitation in his voice that made her uneasy. He also seemed nervous, and she wasn’t quite sure why. Yet, she trusted him, so she decided to let it rest. She knew if it were important enough, he would tell her whatever it was when he was ready. Jay was just relieved that she didn’t press him further.

They had breakfast together before heading into work. It was a strange day. They hadn’t been called onto a new case all morning, so they spent the day catching up on paperwork. It was the type of day that had Adam climbing the walls, but everyone else was grateful for the rare quiet. Particularly, Jay, who took advantage of the quiet by conjuring up proposal ideas in his head.

By the end of the day, they were all dragging, running off of coffee and pacing the bullpen floor between their bouts of paperwork.

“Alright, everyone is coming out to Molly’s tonight. I don’t care if you already have plans. Cancel them. After this slow ass day, we’re popping things off tonight,” Adam announced, shoving himself away from his desk and rising from his chair the second it was six o’clock.

After heading out of the district, they all made their way to Molly’s to meet Adam’s wishes. Adam was already there when Jay and Hailey arrived, sitting next to an amused looking Kevin who watched his friend challenge a bunch of Squad 3 guys to a drinking challenge.

Jay settled at a table near the back as Hailey made her way to the bar to get them drinks, leaving a kiss against his temple and sliding a hand across his back before stepping away. Will was at the bar, engaged in a conversation with Herrmann when she walked up.

“Hey Will,” she said, nudging her shoulder against his as she stepped up to the bar.

“Hey there,” he replied back with a smile, bringing his glass to his lips.

“Two beers please,” she said to Herrmann in a sweet tone before settling on the barstool next to the doctor.

“So did you end up finding your keys?” She asked, remembering the story Jay had told her earlier that morning.

“Uh, what?” Will questioned, sending her a look of confusion.

“Your keys? Jay said he had to meet you this morning to give you the spare…” her voice trailed off, a feeling of suspicion building up in her stomach at Will’s clueless expression.  

“Oh… yeah…” he let out as his eyes travelled over to his brother across the bar. “Yeah, I found them in my locker at work. Late shift last night, must have just blanked,” he admitted unconvincingly. Hailey’s eyes narrowed at him, and she bobbed her head slowly as she began to officially question why the two of them were lying to her. Herrmann set the drinks in front of her on the bar, and she thanked him, sending a departing nod to Will before making her way back over to Jay.

“So, Will found his keys,” she said, setting the bottles on the table between her and Jay before sliding onto the chair across from him.

“Wait, what?” He asked, causing her to raise a questioning brow at him, anger rising in her chest. He looked at her and then over at Will, confusion still forestalling his understanding. Then it hit him. His cover from earlier.

“Why are you lying to me Jay?” She questioned straightly, a steely tone in her voice.  

“What? No, I-“ he paused. He couldn’t lie to her again, but he also couldn’t tell her the truth without ruining the surprise. He sighed in defeat. “Look right now, I can’t tell you where I was. It’s nothing bad. I promise. I just can’t tell you and need you to trust me,” he pleaded.

Her lips folded together, and she nodded in annoyance before rising from her chair to walk away.

“Hailey, wait,” he said, grabbing gently at her arm before she could make her way past him.

“No, Jay. I don’t do lying and you know that. Whatever it is, good or bad, you could have just said you couldn’t tell me yet and I would have respected that. Instead, you lied, but don’t worry your brother did too,” she shook her head with frustration. Suddenly, an eerie feeling of déjà vu brought her back to the many times as a kid when her mother would cover her father’s stories and excuses with even more lies. “I’m going home,” she told him, tearing away from his grasp.

“Let me at least drive you,” he said, a softness in his eyes.

“No, I’ll call a car,” she said before walking away and out to the street.

Will must have noticed their interaction and was making his way over to his brother.

“Dude, what the hell is going on?” He questioned, sliding into the chair Hailey had just fled from.

“I picked up the ring this morning and had to lie about where I was so she wouldn’t find out. Now, she’s pissed,” Jay said, taking a large swig from his bottle.

“Why don’t you just go tell her?” Will questioned.

“I want it to be perfect. She deserves something special, and I haven’t had the chance to figure out what that is yet. Now is just not the time,” he admitted.

“Or now is just the time. Jay, no matter how you ask that girl, she’s going to say yes a million times over. There may never be a perfect time or place to ask her, and if you wait too long, it may be too late to get the answer you want. Don’t ruin this thing you’ve got because you’re too stuck in your head. The two of you are meant for each other, I know it. So don’t overthink it. Just do it,” Will shrugged, bringing a hand to Jay’s shoulder as he tried to talk sense into him. Jay nodded at his words, rising from his chair to go chase after her.

“Hailey,” he called out as he caught sight of the blonde waiting at the corner.

“Jay, I’m really not in the mood,” she breathed out, her body still facing the street.

“Hailey, please. I just need you to trust me.”

“Jay, you know I trust you,” she said, twirling around to face him. “I’ve trusted you from the day I met you-” she got out, and suddenly it clicked in his head. He knew exactly where and how he wanted to ask her. He pulled out his keys, clicking the lock for his truck before grabbing her hand and pulling her towards it.

“Jay, what are you doing?” She protested, pulling away as he tried to drag her towards the truck.

“Hailey, please. Cancel your ride and get in the truck, we have to go back to the district,” he said, continuing to pull her with him.

“The district? Jay, what is going on?” She frowned, planting her feet firmly when they reached outside the passenger door of his truck.

“I’m going to tell you everything, just get in the truck.”

She eyed him, crossing her arms as she stood her ground.

He stepped closer to her, hunching over so he was eye level with her and bringing his face inches away from hers.

“Get. In. The. Truck. Please,” he whispered. She gave in, shaking her head in annoyance before climbing in. He leaned forward, stealing a kiss from her lips, eliciting an eye roll and a reluctant smile out of her.

“For the record, I’m still pissed at you,” she said.

“Hopefully not for long,” he teased before shutting the door.  

Back at the district, he turned off the engine, jumping from the driver’s seat and running to her side of the truck to open the door.

“Jay. What are we doing here?” She questioned. He brought a finger up to his lips in response before offering her a hand to get out of the truck. Once she was out, he reached in, grabbing the ring from his glove compartment before putting it in his pocket and shutting the door. He grabbed her hand, leading her into the building and up the stairs into the district. He held tightly to her as he dragged her upstairs to the bullpen, the baffled look on her face growing the deeper into the district they went. Finally, he pulled her past the desks, through the dark hallway, and into the observation room. He turned on the low light and shut the door, moving to lean up against the glass as he eyed her perplexed and annoyed face across from him. He took a deep breath.

“This is not at all where I imagined we’d end up tonight,” he admitted, a slight smile on his face.

“Then why are we here?” She mocked, now equal parts annoyed and curious by his actions.

“You know to anyone else in the district, this is just a lowly observation room. A horribly lit, tiny little room they probably don’t even think twice about. But to me? To me this room…it’s special,” he said, taking a beat as his eyes circled the room before finding their way back to her.

“Three years ago we stood in this room as completely different people. You were with someone else, I was just beginning to come out of a bad place, and everything was just… different. But you said something to me that day that changed my life forever. I was in here beating myself up over a case, one that you backed me up with when I gave you no reason to, and you told me you trusted me from the day you met me. Same way you did tonight. You said that if you were to follow someone blind, you’d follow me. Well, that was the moment I realized I was in love with you, and every day since then, I’ve loved you Hailey Upton,” he said, tears filling his eyes as he smiled through his words. “Every moment with you since then, to the moment we kissed in that bar, to now, you have filled my heart in ways I never knew could be filled. A few months ago when you and Kim were working that UC case in that bar, there was a brief period of time when I thought I had lost you. That night, I decided I didn’t want to feel that way again. I decided I wanted to be with you forever. We’re better together, and the same way that you told me you’d follow me, I’m going to follow you… for the rest of my life,” he said, pulling the ring from his pocket and dropping to his knee.

“Hailey Anne Upton, marry me,” he breathed out. It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a command, it was a heartfelt plea that felt so natural falling from his lips. He watched as tears welled up in her eyes and a smile grew across her face. She stepped forward, cupping the sides of his face in her hands before nodding.

“I’ll marry you, Jay Halstead,” she affirmed as tears spilled out from her eyes. She kissed him hungrily, following his lips as they pulled back and tugged at hers. He stood, grabbing her up in his arms without breaking away, gently lifting her feet from the floor. Eventually, they pulled apart and she took in the sight of the ring for the first time. It was so perfect, and though she wasn’t much of a jewelry girl, she loved everything about it. Jay took it out of the box and slipped it onto her finger before wrapping her in his arms and twirling her around.

“Is this why you were working overtime so much?” she questioned, her glossy eyes continuing to spill out tears as he planted her back on her feet. He nodded.

“So you’re not actually doing modifications to your truck?” she questioned with a laugh, still trying to catch up to reality.

“No,” he laughed. “And this morning I never intended to go to the store. I was picking this up at the jeweler,” he laughed, playing with her hand that rested in his as he spoke.

“I’m sorry for lying. I never meant to hurt you, can you forgive me?” He questioned. She looked down at the ring on her finger and then back up at him.

“I guess,” she teased sarcastically, with a sly smile before rising on her tip toes and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

As Jay held her in his arms, he knew his brother was right. It was just the time, and he was surprisingly glad he didn’t have to wait until their anniversary. All of that overthinking would have never led to a moment more perfect than that one. Taking her back to that place he realized his love for her, a place that was so uniquely them wasn’t anything he could have planned without the spontaneity of that night. The ring was on her finger, and they were going to be each other’s forever, nothing could have been more perfect than that.

[kalimagik]

Strawberry

Fred Weasley x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Requested by @coffee-wihtout-caffeine​ - “Can I request Fred x reader where it’s throughout her pregnancy with supportive Weasley family? Like the entire pregnancy just bits through each month and dealing with the symptoms. Tia”

A/N: I had SO much fun writing this. I was so excited the whole time (i love babies and think pregnancy is beautiful, so I may have gotten carried away). It’s super fluffy, has something for each month, and a whole lot of cute Fred and a supportive Weasley family! It’s not my usual writing style, but still so fun. Feedback is always welcome! Comment, like, reblog! Happy Reading <3 (also, I got too excited to wait til tonight to post it, so its coming early)

Month 1

It had to be the stomach flu, what else could it be? Fred left you in bed that morning after you spent most of the night with your head over the toilet. You racked your mind, trying to figure out where you would have caught the stomach flu. That’s when it hit you. Running to the nearest convenience store, you bought the tests, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

You looked at the pregnancy test again and the other 3 that sat on the vanity, all positive. No, you and Fred weren’t trying for a baby, but you weren’t not trying either. A baby…you were going to have a baby, Fred’s baby.

The butterflies in your stomach were going to have a roommate. The thought made your lips curl into a grin as you looked into the mirror. A baby! Now you just had to tell Fred. Knowing you had a few hours, you rushed around the house like a mad woman. The rest of the day consisted of picking up, making dinner, and making yourself look presentable and not like you had spent most of the day in bed. The day also included throwing up every now and then, but you were actually kind of excited each time because it was just a reminder of the little boy or girl growing in your stomach.

When Fred walked through the door, you had your favorite “Love Songs” playlist playing, the dinner table set, and candles lit throughout the entire flat. “Is someone feeling better?” Fred called out above the music.

“Freddie! I’m in here,” you sang, still cleaning up pots and pans from dinner.

“What is all of this?” Fred asked, eyes widening at the sight laid out in front of him. “Did I forget an anniversary or something?” he chuckled, knowing very well that he didn’t. “This is wonderful, love. But, what did I do to deserve this?”

“Just sit down and you’ll find out!” You beamed, bringing Fred’s favorite food to the table, his mother’s meatballs with onion sauce with a treacle tart and cream puffs on the side for dessert.

“24 hour stomach flu pass?”

“Uhhh, for the most part,” you skirted around the subject a bit. You had a plan to tell him about the baby.

Dinner went by with your usual conversations about the day, the shop, and how George and the rest of the Weasleys were doing. When tart had been dished out, you stood up from your seat and went behind the couch to get your little gift.

“Okay, what is going on?” Fred asked, now confused as to why he got his favorite dinner, dessert, and now a present. “Did you do something I should be angry about? Did someone else do something that I should be taking credit for?”

“No, silly,” you giggle, sitting the present in front of him. “Just open this!” You watch him intently while standing as he takes the tissue paper out of the bag and unwraps the first little gift. The white tissue paper fell to the floor as he unfolded a little white onesie that read “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

“What’s this for? I’m not going to be an uncle or something am I? Is George around here trying to punk me?”

You just shook your head, an amused, close lipped smile set on your face. “Open the next one.”

Fred stuck his hand back into the small, blue bag and pulled out the long box that had probably once held a bracelet. When he pulled the lid off, there was the 4th and final positive pregnancy test that you had taken earlier in the day. Fred looked up at you, eyes wide. The hand not holding the box with the test reached for the onesie as he put two and two together.

“Are you- Is this? Does this mean-” You just nodded as he stumbled over his words.

“I’m pregnant,” you told him with a laugh/cry. Honestly, you weren’t sure what the noise was, but it was a happy one. Fred flew out of his seat so quickly to embrace you that his chair fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

“You’re pregnant?” he asked again once he finally let you go and stopped kissing your face. You could only nod as the happy tears streamed down your face. “Oh, I guess I shouldn’t hug you so hard. Wouldn’t want to hurt the little lad or gal would I?”

“I think the little Weasley will be okay,” you smirk, hugging Fred a little tighter.

“So when can I tell George?”

You laugh as you kiss Fred’s cheek. “Not just yet, darling. Let’s see a doctor first”

Month 2

“So I can tell Georgie right after this right?” Fred asked as you sat in a room at St. Mungo’s waiting for the doctor.

“I enjoy you pretending to wait for my permission when I know you already told him,” you laugh, squeezing Fred’s hand while he helps you onto the chair for the mothers to be. “He was not very subtle when I came by the shop the other day. He was talking about inventing baby friendly products for the shop.” You rolled your eyes sarcastically at the memory.

“Okay, I may have apparated to our little flat above the shop where he was at the time after you fell asleep the night that you told me.” He pouted, looking for forgiveness from you.

You had to stifle your giggles when the doctor knocked on the door to let you know that she was entering.

“Good afternoon Y/N,” she smiled at you as she pulled out the contraption for looking at the baby’s growing form. “I see you have Fred Weasley with you again.”

The last appointment, he may or may not have dropped a dung bomb that made its way into his jacket pocket accidentally on their way out.

“Hello there, Dr. Woodson,” Fred grimaced. “Good to see you again. Don’t worry, I double checked my pockets before coming this time.”

“Very good,” your doctor nodded curtly. “Well then, let’s get started, shall we?”

Your doctor talked you through the images that you and Fred saw on the screen. “Your baby is now about the size of a pomegranate seed since you’re in the 6th week,” she finished. You sat and watched in awe. The baby was so much bigger than just a few weeks ago when you were in for the first visit that confirmed your pregnancy. “Do you have any questions for me?” Dr. Woodson asked at the end of the appointment.

You shook your head, already having read all about it in the pregnancy books you had bought a few weeks earlier. Fred was the one to pipe up. “So, my brother’s wife was pregnant a year ago or so, and she got really, really cranky. Is my wife going to do that too?”

“Fred?!” you scoffed, playfully slapping him in the arm.

“You see, it’s already starting a little bit and I was just wondering how bad it will actually get.” He continued ignoring you.

Your doctor chuckled slightly before she stood up with your charts in hand. “It was good to see you both again. Y/N, you can schedule your next appointment at the front desk on your way out. Send me an owl if you have any questions or concerns.”

After saying goodbye, Fred helped you off the chair, even though he didn’t have to, and you dressed back into your clothes that were not yet maternity wear, but starting to get a little snug in some areas.

“All ready, love?” he asked after you dressed.

“Let’s go.”

Month 3

“Are you ready?” Fred asked as you stood at the door of his childhood home. He was grinning from ear to ear. Today was the day that the two of you had decided to tell his family about the baby. You told your parents a few days earlier and they couldn’t be happier, but that was two people. Now it was time to face Fred’s parents, six siblings, and all of their significant others.

“Very ready,” you smiled back. Fred had been sitting on the edge of his seat for nearly a month whenever you visited. It was the end of your third month and therefore an appropriate time to start telling the family.

“Mum! We’re here!” Fred called out as he opened the door.

“OHHH! Y/N, Fred! Welcome. I’m so happy you both could make it!”

“We always come for Sunday night dinner, Mrs. Weasley,” you laughed while being buried into one of her notorious bear hugs.

“Woah there, mum. Don’t want to crush Y/N and our-” Fred cut himself off before he let the word ‘baby’ slip. Luckily, Molly was a blur around the house that she hadn’t even noticed. After giving Fred a quick hug, she called up to the rest of the family and feet began stampeding down the stairs.

“Wow, it is getting a little crowded in here,” you laughed as you hugged Ginny, Hermione, George, Ron, Harry and then Bill, Charlie, Fleur and little Victoire. “Even Teddy is here!” you smiled as you hugged the 3 year old with bright blue hair.

“The more the merrier is our motto!” Arthur Weasley boomed as he came into the kitchen as well.

“It’s a good thing that you think that way, dad!” Fred beamed, sharing a quick glance with George. At this rate, the family was going to learn the news before everyone even sat down for dinner.

Pre-dinner chats ensued and then Mrs. Weasley called them all from the living room to the table. That’s when she started handing out the wine. She had decided it was a special occasion because EVERYONE was at dinner. Bill and Fleur were in France the previous week and Charlie was back from Romania for a period of time. Even Percy managed to pull himself away from his busy work life. You looked at Fred with a small, close lipped smile, letting him know that it’s time to spill the news. Everyone would find out soon enough when you refused the wine.

You took your seat next to Fred with Ginny on your other side, leaning into Fred as he wrapped his arm around you and kissed your temple. Then, he cleared his throat to get the 12 other people’s attention.

“I’d like to make a toast,” he announced, raising his glass. “I can’t imagine this night being any better. Spending time with my amazing family, the extensions included,” he nodded to Harry, Hermione, and Fleur. “It’s a big family, but it’s about to get a little bigger. Currently a plum size bigger.” You nudged Fred slightly. He had been making fun of you for announcing which food your baby’s size matched each week.

“Oi, cut to the chase down there. I can’t hold it in for much longer! I’m bursting at the seams over here!” George hollered from the other end of the table.

Your smile grew as you made eye contact with Molly. You could tell she already knew what Fred was going to say, but was letting him break the news.

“Y/N and I are pregnant!” Fred’s signature grin was plastered on his face and you didn’t think that he’d been wiping it off anytime soon.

“This is brilliant!” Ginny cheered as she wrapped an arm around you. “I get to be an aunt, again!” she smiled at Victoire.

“Victoire,” Fleur got the little girl’s attention. “Yoo are going to be a couzin to a ittle boy or girl. Eesn’t zis exciting?”

“Ronald and I can babysit whenever you need a break,” Hermione offered, Ron nodding along, even though he wasn’t too sure if he wanted to be with a baby around his fiancé just yet.

The congratulations and excitement lasted all through dinner. By the end, Bill and Fleur offered you Victoire’s baby clothes if you had a girl, Arthur said he could fix up the cradle they used for all their children, Molly had already started knitting a little hat and bootie set. It was crazy and chaotic, but you loved every second of it. This was your wild family now and the wild family that your baby would get to grow up with.

Month 4

You paced around your flat with a hand on your forehead and one on your stomach. You had just gotten back from your appointment, the high of telling the Weasley family about the pregnancy two nights ago still lingering. Of course, once you went to see Dr. Woodson, the feeling changed.

-

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Dr. Woodson had said as she ran her wand over your stomach to look at the baby.

“What?” you asked. She’d never said anything like that before.

“It seems we may have missed something.” She pulled an image up. “Normally we would catch this earlier, but see that there.” She pointed and you nodded. “Well, there appears to be a second fetus and a second heartbeat that I must have missed before. Y/N Weasley, you are having twins!”

-

Laying down on the couch, you thought about what having twins would mean. Two of everything really. Fred and George’s shop was doing great again and they were acquiring Zonko’s in Hogsmeade too, so money wouldn’t technically be an issue. But, twins! They could be a little Fred and George exactly and that would be a handful. The doctor never said that they were identical necessarily, so you could have a boy and a girl.

“Honey! I’m hoooome!” Fred sang opening the door.

“With your favorite brother-in-law!” George sang after him.

Both twins sat grocery bags on the table. “What’s all this?” you asked, mind still focused on the news you got earlier in the day.

“We have decided to cook you dinner!” George said triumphantly.

You looked at the identical faces that stood before you, both grinning at you. “Fred, we’re having twins!” you blurted out at them, not able to hold it in any longer. Fred dropped the bag he was still holding, apples and oranges rolling all over the floor.

“Twins.” He said, eyes glazed over, looking past you and at the wall, where the onesie that you gave him the day you told him you were pregnant was hanging.

“You’re going to have a mini Fred and I?!” George squealed in excitement. He shook Fred’s shoulders, bringing him back to the present.

“That we are!” you smiled, appreciating the enthusiasm. “Well maybe, we could have girls, or a girl and a boy. We won’t know until the end of next month,” you explained, rambling.

That’s when Fred went into total care mode. “Do you need to sit down? You should be sitting down. Mum always complained about what Georgie and I did to her body and how hard carrying twins was.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Freddie,” you giggled, “maybe YOU should sit down!”

“Yes, perhaps I shall, love.” Fred plopped down onto the couch as you went into the kitchen to grab him a cup of water. “Twins, wow.” You heard him breathe out in the living room.

“He is happy about it, just processing,” George whispered to you as he started to put your groceries away.

“I know,” you smiled, “he is going to make a great dad!”

Month 5

Your stomach was really bulging at this point. Two little ones growing in there. You were beyond excited as you slid on a maternity dress with sunflowers plastered all over it. It had become your favorite dress, comfortable, stretchy, it had pockets. But, today, you put it on for your gender reveal party. Originally, you and Fred were going to wait and be surprised by the sex of the babies, but Molly and even George changed your minds.

They agreed that once they received the news, Dr. Woodson would write the genders on pieces of paper, seal them in an envelope, and send them with an owl to Molly. Now, you were getting ready for that party. You were more going along with Fred when you originally said you’d wait to find out the sexes, but now you were giddy!

“Love, are you ready? Everyone is downstairs,” Fred knocked on his childhood door as he opened to take in the room that hadn’t changed in years. You followed Fred down the stairs, him holding your hand the whole way to ensure that you didn’t trip down the stairs. He may be loud, boisterous, and reckless usually, but since he learned about the twins, he treated you as if you were a china doll, it was so sweet.

“Surprise!” a hoard of people called when you exited the Burrow. The Weasleys had completely decked out their yard on the spring evening. Twinkle lights flooded the area with light as the sun set to the west. Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom had brought in tons of flowers that surrounded the tables. All the pinks and blues were bright as can be, signifying the news that was about to be shared with everyone, even the parents.

“Merlin! It’s beautiful! Thank you,” you beamed, taking in as much of the yard at once as possible.

The party was a blast. Blue and pink food. Cute little presents left out with yellows and greens. Tons of little Gryffindor attire, even though you’d be okay with your children being in any of the houses. But the time for the reveal drew closer.

“Y/N, Fred. Stand here,” Molly ordered them. “George is out back setting everything up.”

You were shaking with excitement. Your family and Fred’s family all held sparklers that lit the darkness. The colors reflected off of your and Fred’s skin. He glanced over at you and whispered, “You’ve been glowing this whole time, but you’re really glowing now,” before leaning down and kissing your cheek.

“Everyone ready?” George called from behind the hedge. “3…2…1!”

The sky exploded with fireworks of blue and pink. Your hand flew to your mouth as you took in the sight. “We’re getting a little boy AND a little girl, Freddie,” you laughed, happy to now know. Fred hugged you tightly, leaving just enough room for your protruding belly.

“We’re having a boy and a girl,” he repeated, grinning ear to ear. Everyone let the two of you have your moment before flooding you with hugs and congratulations.

Month 6

“Psssst, Freddie.” You whispered, peaking at the clock quickly. It read 1:30 AM…oops.

“Yes, love,” Fred whispered as he yawned before turning over and lazily slinging an arm over your body.

“I’m hungry…” you said, big, pouty, pleading eyes already in place as Fred opened one of his. “Will you pleeeeease get me some chocolate covered strawberries and the cheesiest nachos you can find?”

“That is the strangest combination that I have ever heard.” Fred grunted as he pushed the blankets down. “You sure you can eat both of those things?”

So far, you had found that you could no longer even look at any kind of fish, tuna was WAY out of the question, the smell of tomatoes made you gag, and turkey was a big no go. In fact, most meat was starting to make you queasy and you could only eat it sometimes.

“It’s what I’m craving, so I think so?”

“Sounds good, love. I’ll be right back.” Fred threw on some pants and a jacket and apparated out of the flat. You laid back in your bed, feeling extremely content as you pulled the blankets up to your chin just to throw them off. You’d been going from freezing to feeling like a million degrees every few minutes.

That familiar pop could be heard as Fred brought the food to you in bed. “Nachos and chocolate covered strawberries for my beautiful, glowing wife. We can never go back to the Spanish restaurant on the corner or the market next to it ever again. You don’t want to know how angry the owners were when I woke them up.”

You had already dug into the food before Fred could undress and get back into bed again. “Are you going to save me any?” he chuckled, sliding back into the sheets.

“Yes, you can have some.” You told him, mouth full and chocolate dribbling down your chin.

“Let me run to the loo before I go to bed again,” Fred told you, getting up once more. By the time he walked back into the room, you were there fast asleep, box of chocolate covered strawberries on one side and box of nachos on the other. Fred couldn’t stop laughing as he picked up the open food and wiped off your face before kissing your forehead and pulling you close to him.

Month 7

“FRED!! It’s so hot!” you complained. You could feel the sweat sliding down every inch of your body and you felt disgusting. You felt huge and being pregnant was not fun anymore. You were big, couldn’t move easily, and your ankles had swollen to three times their normal size.

In the July heat, you just felt terrible.

“Let me get you another fan and some lemonade.” Fred offered.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so cranky with you,” you apologized to Fred when he came to sit back down next to you, handing you a glass of lemonade.

“You have every right to be cranky with me,” he smiled, kissing the side of your head as he had been doing so often now. “You’re carrying my babies. Speaking of which, we should come up with some names. It could be fun!”

You took a deep breath, trying to relax on the couch. “Yes, let’s do that!” Fred had already begun preparing the nursery and Molly and Fleur had sent over hordes of clothes. Planning was tiring you out, as fun and cute as it was, so maybe brainstorming names would be a blast.

“Now, George thinks we should name at least one of them after him. If we did that, we should name the girl Georgia because I think George would throw a fit if the girl was actually named after him. And then the boy could be Fred Jr.”

You looked dead eyed at Fred, not thinking his ‘joke’ was funny. “We are not making, no excuse me, forcing our twins to be mini-yous. Nope, not happening. Veto, next.”

“Okay, geez,” Fred chuckled as he took your hand in his own, knowing you would complain about being hot if he put his arm fully around you.

“Mhmmmm,” you thought out loud. “What about Andrew for the boy. You know, for my brother? I’d like to honor him after losing him 2 years ago in the war.”

“I think that would be nice,” Fred smiled softly at you. “Andrew it is. Andrew Weasley has a good ring to it. We can call him Drew for short too.”

“I think so too,” you agreed.

“Now, for a girl, this is a serious suggestion,” Fred prepared you. “Olivia. I’ve always liked that name.” he played with your fingers.

“Andrew and Olivia Weasley. I think it could work. That was much easier than I thought it was!” You laughed with joy.

“Fred, Y/N, Andrew, and Olivia. Our little family. You like your new names, kids?” Fred spoke to your stomach.

Month 8

“Nope, do not get out of bed!” Fred ordered after you tried to get out of bed. “Doctor’s orders. Plus, Mum is already here.”

Molly Weasley had been coming to your flat nearly every other day to help you and Fred around the house. Dr. Woodson placed you on bed rest the previous week and it was complete AGONY.

“But, Freddie, there is so much we still have to do. I can help.”

“Nope, George and I have it covered. Plus you know the rest of the family will help with whatever we need. You just sit here and rest. Liv and Drew are still growing in there.”

“Yes they are,” you giggled, rubbing your stomach. “I swear they were wrestling in there last night! They were being so active! Kicking and moving around. If these two fight during their entire childhoods, we will be in for some rough years!”

“I bet they will be best friends,” Fred smiled. “Look at Georgie and I! And, if they have any younger siblings in the future, they can team up against them.”

“I should hope not!” you scoffed. Your banter settled as Molly hurried into the room with a breakfast tray.

“Mum will take good care of you today and Ginny mentioned stopping by later, okay?” Fred told you as he kissed you goodbye. “I won’t be too late tonight. Everyone on Diagon Alley seems to know that you’re expecting, so even though business is booming, the shop is ready to be closed at closing!

“Sounds good, dear.” You replied, pushing the eggs to the side. You forgot to tell Molly that you weren’t eating those now because of the babies.

“I’ll take those for you,” Fred chuckled, eating your eggs, sipping some water, and kissing you one more time before leaving. “Have a good day!”

“Bye, hun,” you giggled again as she left. At least you had the company of all the Weasley guests throughout the days when he was gone.

Month 9

“They’re due any day, Freddie!” You squealed. You had attempted to jump a little, but that just made you have to pee, so you stopped that immediately. “When they get here, we can hold them all the time and I’ll be able to move freely!”

You had secretly begun doing the things that you hoped would speed along the delivery date. You were eating spicy foods, walking around when no one was watching you and forcing you back to bed, drinking raspberry tea, everything! Well, not everything. You had try to convince Fred to have sex with you the night before, but he refused. Said it was weird with two babies in there, even though you looked beautiful and he would love to.

You had just rolled your eyes at him in response, but you did try!

“You going to come out soon, little ones?” You asked your stomach. “At least one perk of being so large is that I can sit the box of chocolate covered strawberries on my stomach.” You hummed happily, eating another one of the treats that had been your favorites during your pregnancy.

You had eaten them so many times that Molly just started making them regularly for you so that Fred didn’t have to go buy them at all hours of the day randomly.

“Can I come to Diagon Alley with you today?” you asked hopefully. “I need to get out of this house. Everything is ready and I’ve been cooped up for too long.”

Fred stood there thinking, but you pleaded some more, getting him to finally give in. “Only if you promise to not walk around too much.”

“I promise! I’ll sit at Florean’s the whole time!” You drew and X over your heart to seal the promise.

You breathed in the air deeply as you took in the atmosphere of the Alley. The newer owners of the ice cream shop brought you more ice cream each time that you asked for some and whenever you tried to pay, they refused. Yet another perk of being pregnant.

Numerous people had walked by and chatted with you while Fred was at the shop and he came by every so often to check on you. It was a pleasant day. That was until an excruciating pain occurred in your stomach.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” you whined, hands immediately holding your stomach. “Excuse me,” you pulled one of the waiters aside. “Would you run down to the joke shop and get my husband, please?”

The trip to St. Mungo’s was a blur. Fred was holding your hand the entire way, helping you into your hospital gown, and just being an overall sweetheart as per usual. Molly Weasley and your mum filtered in and out of the room. It wasn’t until Dr. Woodson announced that just those going into the delivery room could stay that the chaos slowed. Even if it was just you and Fred in the room, you knew that every single Weasley and Y/L/N was in the waiting room and would be until your two children entered the world.

Four hours later, you had finished pushing, you had finished working your body to exhaustion. Four hours later, you held two little babies in your arms and they were beautiful. Fred’s smile was so wide and he was so proud as he took Andrew from you and then Olivia.

“You did beautifully, darling,” he whispered, looking at the two children in his arms. The tears were still streaming down your face, stupid post-birth hormones. “Are you ready for the family? They’ll come back in small groups.” You nodded laying your head back on the pillows. It was September 8th. The day your little family had its first addition of many.

You could see the little heads of Olivia and Drew peaking over the blankets as different family members held them. Their hair was strawberry red, just like your favorite snack.

[enjennie]

Sweeter than Sugar | Na Jaemin

summary: wherein Jaemin goes through hell and back to bake a cake for you on your 3rd anniversary.

genre: fluff / boyfriend au

warnings: none

word count: 1.3k

[3:48 pm]

It looked as if a hurricane had swept over the kitchen as condiments, various baking tools along with spilled ingredients that managed to miss the massive bowl Na Jaemin was baking in cluttered the usually spotless counter that you and your boyfriend obsessively kept at its cleanest. Today, Jaemin couldn’t give a damn about being tidy, as he whisked the eggs vigorously with one hand, and tried to simultaneously sift the flour into a bowl with the other.

“Mom, mom! Please repeat what you said after beating the eggs,” Jaemin called over to his mom, who he’d speed dialed and put on loud speaker once the idea of baking came to him.

“Pour it into the dry ingredients then mix! Ah, why didn’t you get boxed cake mix instead?” His mother nagged. It did cross his mind, but Jaemin didn’t want to take the easy route. He never does. Not for his girlfriend, never. He’d go the extra mile for you.

“Did you preheat the oven?” His mother asked through the phone. Jaemin looked behind him to check. He’d randomly turned the knob when his mom told him to 15 minutes ago. “Yeah? It’s heated,”

“Okay, well after this you can put it into the cake tin then pop it into the oven for up to 30 minutes,” his mother instructed. “You could’ve just bought something special. Girls like that,”

Jaemin couldn’t help but smile. “You know Y/N isn’t like other girls,” He tells his mom. He knew for a fact you’re a sucker for handmade gifts, freshly baked goods and handwritten letters.

“Anyway, mom. Thanks for the help, I’ll send you a photo once I finish,” he reaches for his phone to end the call.

“Alright, goodluck! I love you!”

 With that, Jaemin gets to work on his own. He places the cake into the oven and starts coloring the icing he had prepared to decorate the cake with. Originally, you both had agreed to spend the whole day together as a celebration. But, due to your busy schedule and requirements that seemed to have chosen this day specifically, you’d apologized to Jaemin and promised a date night instead. A date night was all you prepared yourself for, but Na Jaemin had some tricks up his sleeve.

He quickly shot you a text, asking how you were. This wasn’t unusual, as he regularly liked to check up on you and asked if you needed anything. So, you replied without any suspicion.

@ the campus library, getting some articles for our thesis

Sigh. I’m sorry, honey. Will make it up to you l8r! xo

Jaemin chuckled, finding it cute how guilty you were even if he didn’t mind. He always wanted you to focus on your studies.

 [Aug 2019]

“I can wait, your future won’t so focus on it for now,”  Jaemin caressed your cheek lightly, brushing the hair out of your face and watching as the sunset hues reflected in your eyes as you both stood by the terrace of your shared apartment, watching the sun die down.

“You’re my future,” you mutter stubbornly to him. You watch as the corners of his mouth stretch into the gorgeous smile you’ve fallen in love with.

“I’m serious, Y/N. Do well or I’ll have to tickle you,” Jaemin poked at your side and you jolt as a reaction. A laugh escaped his pretty lips as he pulls you in closer and began to tickle you everywhere. “Na Jaemin!” You screamed his name, trying to free yourself from his hold but the man was strong with the softest touch, making him seem like a buff teddy bear. Or a bubble wrap for that matter.

Jaemin turned you to face him, pressing his head against yours.

“Put yourself first, and I swear I’ll always be right beside you,”

And that’s how it’s always been between you and him. You focusing on your studies, knowing you had a supportive boyfriend to go home to who’d recharge you and understand your struggles. Someone who’d wipe your tears away, motivate you and refill your coffee mug at 3 in the morning when the 5000 worded essay just wouldn’t write itself.

Nothing was sweeter than Jaemin, not even the most decedent of cakes, or the most sugary cupcake.

 [4:21 pm]

Ding!

The oven had sounded, letting the boy know the cake was done. He rushes to see and to his delight, it looked normal. He pulls it out with oven mitts and places it on the counter to cool.

Jaemin popped a candy into his mouth, getting excited as things were turning out perfectly.

 [6:08 pm]

“Jaemin?” You called into the dark hallway of your apartment as you come in through the front door. The house was usually lit when you came home at this hour, so you wondered if maybe Jaemin had fallen asleep, or left to go somewhere. So, you walk in and switch the lights on yourself to reveal an empty house.

At the end of the hall where you stood, you noticed a little card stuck to the entrance which led to the living room. You flip it open and it read, ‘Welcome home! Meet me at the terrace?’ A smile instantly shows up in your face as you excitedly pocket the card. Of course it wouldn’t just be an ordinary date night, you’re dating Na Jaemin. You’d be a fool to expect anything less.

You make a quick stop to your shared bedroom, throw your bag to the floor and quickly pick something to wear. The pink dress you’d reserved for special occasions catches your eye and you take it off the rack, knowing your boyfriend was a sucker for the color.

After a little while, you finally make your way to the terrace, which he’d drawn the curtain over so you wouldn’t see. You push it out of the way, and find a panicked Na Jaemin huddled over a cake with its candles nearly touching the surface of the cake, almost ruining the design.

“Quickly, quickly!” he calls for you and lifts the cake. Without even being able to register and appreciate the perfectly set up dinner, or the sunset that stretched in the horizon, you ran to Jaemin, which was always the most beautiful in your eyes anyway. “On three, make a wish and blow,” he lifts the cake between you two and smiles.

With closed eyes, you sent your wishes to the sky and blew. You didn’t even notice he had kept his eyes open, and let you do it alone, with nothing but a smile on his face. Once you opened your eyes once again, you see the writings on the cake.

Always beside you.

 Jaemin sets the cake aside and wraps his arms around you. “What took you so long? The candles almost burnt out,”

“Sorry,” you couldn’t help but laugh. “I wanted to look good for you at least,”

He chuckles, “You’re something else, Y/N,”

“Hmm, what am I then?”

“Everything I’ve ever asked for and more,”

Jaemin didn’t waste a second more, and pressed his lips against yours, as each second that passed without your lips on his was a second wasted. He tasted sweet, both in a non literal and literal sense. Your boyfriend loved sweets, after all. Each kiss was enough to give you a sugar rush.

 As you both pulled away from the exhilarating kiss, you found yourself licking your lips, craving for the sweet taste he’d left.

“Happy anniversary,” he gives you another peck. Your eyes land on the table he’d set up for the two of you and the sight almost brought you to tears. The sun had died down while you were busy with each other, which left you under the dim lighting that the string lights Jaemin had hung up provided. You realize it looked extremely similar to your first date. Like Jaemin had tried to replicate the one at the restaurant he’d taken you to, three years ago. “You didn’t-,” your voice came out unstable as you were getting emotional and extremely nostalgic.

He grinned and pulls a seat out for you, “C’mon, the roasted chicken is getting cold,”

“Na Jaemin, I’m gonna marry you one day,” you walk over to him and pinched his cheeks before sitting.

You hear him chuckle, and nothing in your life could have ever prepared you for the next thing Jaemin does.

“Why not now?” He asked, getting down on one knee and opening up a red box, revealing the prettiest ring you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

[official-weasley]

The Extraordinary Dragon (Part 1/6)

After about a century of me being gone and not writing a new story, I am back with a mini-series! 💙

I didn't have a good idea for a new OC so I decided to write a cute and fluffy story about Charlie training a dragon with a sad and mysterious past.

I would like to thank @am-i-space @madelineorionswan & @the-al-chemist for giving me ideas for the names of the dragons mentioned in the story. You are the best 💙 Since some of the dragons are mentioned in the later chapters I will make sure to include which dragons you named in the Masterlist for the story 💙

If you'd like to be tagged in every part the dragon with your name is mentioned please tell me and I will gladly do so 🤗

Warnings: Charlie being excited and obsessed with dragons.

Word count: 2,869

A dragon's roar awakened me. It might sound terrifying to some, but it is a pure melody for my ears. I have been working in the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary for almost 10 years now. Come to think of it tomorrow's the anniversary.

My co-workers constantly tease me, telling me that I'm a workaholic. I always disagree with them. I just love dragons and working with them. Am I a bit obsessed with the creatures? Maybe. But who wouldn't be so excited about having their dream job?

There is something so soothing working with a beast that can swallow you whole, yet if you have the right energy and you treat them right they can be more obedient than a Crup.

When I first got the job I worked with a team of researchers. Since I have never seen a dragon in real life before starting working, my boss Matthew wanted me to learn about their behavior and study them to be better prepared to do other things.

They all thought I will be bored out of my mind – because I applied for the care of dragons position and not researching – but I loved every second of it. All I had to do was wake up every morning and go to the assigned habitat and observe the dragon there and take notes. It's like reading a book about the creatures – something I did almost every day of my 7 years at Hogwarts – but you get to be around them every single day.

My mother thinks I am insane for wanting to be around such dangerous creatures and I had to promise her before I left for Romania that I will write home every day otherwise she is coming to get me at once. I guess she needs to know daily that I wasn't eaten by a dragon. The thing is that being hurt by a dragon is less likely than falling off a broom, so I don't know what she is so worried about.

The only one of my family members that knows about all my injuries and all my scars is my big brother Bill. He understands that I don't mind getting hurt and he doesn't get a heart attack every time I end up in the infirmary. It's nice to talk to someone about these things outside my workspace. Even though being a Curse Breaker isn't the safest job in the world, Bill's number of scars can't even compare to mine.

We do have protective gear and gloves but sometimes the dragon's fire and teeth are just too strong. We are lucky that we have wonderful healers that take care of us and we have remedies that heal burns within minutes so it's mostly just an annoyance.

The year after my training I worked only with Common Welsh Greens. The year after that I tamed two Antipodean Opaleyes and it was the best feeling to see them get excited and welcome me with a friendly roar every morning. Even though they were both adults it felt like dealing with two kids and it was so much fun. The latter are such sweethearts and I even taught one how to roll over. They are like dogs but bigger, way bigger.

After that, I tried to convince my boss to let me work with a more dangerous breed. It's not that I didn't like what I did but I like a challenge. I needed 2 months to convince him to let me work with 2 Chinese Fireballs and by the smirk on his face I knew I was in for a treat. They were brought to our reserve so they could breed but no matter how much others tried nobody succeeded at mating them.

When Matthew finally gave in – not seeing any harm in letting me try before they send them back – I remember I danced around my hut for a solid half an hour being so excited to work with them the next day.

I was surprised that nobody thought of the strategy I choose. It was true that they brought the dragons to us together but they didn't know each other and since nobody thought of trying to acquaint them first, I gave it a go.

After 3 days they were best mates and I gave them 4 more days to fully feel comfortable with each other before taking them to the mating habitat. I am more than proud to say that since then they have been parents 2 times. I did some great things since I started working in the Sanctuary but you never forget your first big achievement.

Due to Matthew being absolutely in awe of me succeeding after a week he allowed me to work with a bunch of Swedish Short-Snouts even though usually only a dragonologist with 5+ years of experience can work with them alone.

I was amused when I saw the faces of some of my older co-workers when they found out – thinking they were going to get the job. I love working with them even though they are the ones responsible for most of my scars. Just after the first day, one burned my entire forearm and everyone thought I was going to back off because of it but it only made me want to work with them more.

Now, after almost 10 years I have worked with every single breed of dragon except my favorite – the Hebridean Black. They are one of the most dangerous and stubborn kind and only a dragonologist with a lot of experience gets to work with them.

I got the glimpse of one when I was working with the research team but no matter how sneaky I tried to be, Matthew wouldn't let me get anywhere close to them. I even got a chance to work with a team that took care of a sick Norwegian Ridgeback even though they are considered to be the most dangerous.

A year ago I got a chance to be part of an exchange program at the Swedish Dragon Reserve and I worked with a Peruvian Vipertooth and a Ukrainian Ironbelly. My boss wasn't happy about the latter one as he reckoned I was too inexperienced to be around and try to tame the largest breed of dragons but as you can probably tell from what I told you so far, I was over the roof about it!

The Ironbelly might be the largest but they are among the least vicious ones – none of my co-workers would agree with me as most of them are terrified of them but I think they are adorable thinking since they are the biggest they are also the scariest. It's the same as with dogs – sometimes the smaller ones are more dangerous.

I got out of bed with a grin on my face. Even though I don't like to admit it I like reminiscing on my biggest achievements.

I made myself some breakfast – eggs and bacon as usual – while blasting music on my wireless. Nothing like singing while cooking and reading the letters my family sent me.

Mum and dad were going to visit George and Ron for the weekend. Bill and Fleur decided to repaint their living room. Ginny invited me to one of her games next week and Percy got another promotion.

I walked to the wall where I had a calendar hanging to mark the date of Ginny's game. It was the perfect event to meet with most of my family members and I love supporting her. I am proud of all my siblings' achievements but Ginny being the only girl among 6 boys made us all have a soft spot for her - even Percy, even though he would probably deny it if someone asked him about it.

Since I was working with three different dragons at the moment – Peruvian Vipertooth named Hel and two Romanian Longhorns Lasair and Rocker – I double-checked my schedule to see which one I am supposed to visit today. As I thought, it was Lasair. I know my schedule by heart but always check it twice– I don't want any dragon to be jealous thinking one is getting more attention from me.

My routine with the dragons was simple. First, they get their breakfast which is usually a piece of their favorite meat, except if it's our Common Welsh Green Crystal – she is the only dragon I have ever met that is a vegetarian and she mostly doesn't want to eat anything else than apples. It took us the longest time to figure out why she doesn't want to eat – vomiting out all the meat we gave her – until we moved her to an habitant with a pumpkin patch and them mysteriously disappearing overnight.

After the feeding, I like to play with them. That usually includes large balls or levitating rocks after which they can jump and run. Then it's my favorite part of the day – the flying lessons. We transport them to the part of the reserve that is built like a large stadium in the middle of the forest surrounded by mountains and it has 10 obstacles that the dragons have to learn to overcome so they are cleared for free-flying sessions.

After flying it's time for a brief pause to get the dragon back to its habitat and calm it down before giving it dinner and tucking it in.

Flying is the most fun thing we can do at our job. When Matthew told me that I am finally allowed to fly with them, I had to excuse myself and go to the bathroom because I felt like crying my eyes out. I wanted to fly on a dragon ever since I was a kid and even though I heard rumors about training them in that way, I always thought it was too good to be true.

The first time I flew on a dragon was with a dragonologist named Jim. He showed me how to properly prepare the dragon to be in the mood to have a person on its back and how to lift off and then safely land. Vulcan the Opaleye was just the loveliest when I trained with him to trust me to the point that he would allow me to fly. Even though my dream is to one day fly on a Hebridean Black, I wouldn't change my first flight for anything in the world.

Vulcan was more than obedient and so careful to make me feel comfortable and constantly made sure I was still on his back. He flew in a straight line and at an even pace making me feel so safe that I let go of his shiny scales and lifted my hands in the air. I wanted to shout from all the adrenaline and excitement that ran through me but I didn't want to startle the dragon.

It's safe to say that I didn't sleep at all that night. The second I laid in my bed I felt as if I was still in the air with Vulcan and I couldn't help but wish to do that every day.

"Good morning, Lasair. What do you want to eat this morning? Boar, deer, moose perhaps?"Lasair lifted her head sleepily at me. I teased her with the options, knowing full well that moose was her favorite. If she could speak she would ask me if I can't remember her favorite meal.

"Don't worry, you'll get what you want." I winked at her and put on my gloves before taking out my wand and levitating the big chunk of meat to her.

Lasair was one of the rare dragons that ate her food slowly, so I loved to sit down next to her and watched her chew. If Matthew saw me, he would probably murder me for sitting so close to a dragon but he doesn't know that Lasair and I have an agreement of her keeping me alive and I give her some extra meat for dinner in return.

"So, Lassy, I have some bad news." I cleared my throat as the dragon stopped chewing and tilted her head toward me. "We have to sharpen your claws today."

Lasair groaned and went back to her breakfast.

"I know, I know. Not your favorite thing to do. Trust me if it was up to me, we would rather do something more fun like play with your favorite tire or play fetch with your ball. But the boss said it was time."

Lasair didn't react to my words but laid on the ground once she finished her meal and wrapped her tail around me.

"You know that cuddling and being cute won't work on me." I chuckled. "Not this time, at least."

The dragon's nostrils started to smoke and I knew she was trying to negotiate.

"Between you and me," I whispered, "I'll throw in another piece of meat if you'll be a good girl like last time. How about some boar for dessert, huh?"

Lasair let out a gentle roar, giving me a sign that she agrees with my terms.

"That's my girl. I knew we'll find a common ground." I grinned at her and got up so we could start our day.

"Okay, Lassy. I will need you to step on this mat and do the burying motion. As if you were burying the bones of a deer." I explained when Lasair looked at the mat in confusion.

I mimicked the gesture and she copied it and walked to the mat with grace as if she was a princess.

"There you go! I am so proud of you, Lasair. You really want that extra piece of meat, huh?" I laughed to myself.

"So that is how you get all dragons to behave as if they're Crups?" I turned toward the voice and saw Matthew's amused face, observing my work with the Romanian Longhorn.

"You were never meant to find out," I said in a dramatic voice.

"Oh, it's fine." Matthew swung his hand. "You'll need all the skills."

"What do you mean?" I furrowed my brows at him as I stepped to Lasair to show her to step a bit forward so she could sharpen the claws on her back paws as well.

"Do you know what tomorrow is?" Matthew asked, observing my every move.

"No." I lied. I knew that tomorrow will be 10 years since I work in the reserve but I didn't want to boast about it.

"Come on, Charles. I know that you out of everyone here you’re the one who counts how long you are working here for." He smirked at me.

I couldn't believe it. He remembered that it's my 10th anniversary? I couldn't help but grin.

"What about it?" I tried acting casually.

"Well, the team was thinking about what to get you as a present..."

"Matt, you don't have to get me anything. You know I am just happy being surrounded by dragons." I smiled appreciatively.

"Well, how about you get surrounded by a new dragon?" He winked at me.

"What are you on about?" I narrowed my eyes at him. I was getting impatient, the excitement in me growing.

"We are getting a one-year-old Hebridean Black in a week from the MacFusty’s." Matthew started to explain. "And since you are so good at taming and being best mates with the three you’re taming now, I was thinking of assigning it to you."

"Did...did you just say a Hebridean Black?" I said in a voice that was barely a whisper. I couldn't believe what just came out of his mouth. He was going to let me work with my favorite breed?

"You heard correctly, Charles." Matthew's smirk was growing larger.

"But...but I don't have enough experience, you said so yourself. You...you should give the job to someone worthy, to someone who will know how to handle the breed." I knew that I should've just shut up and thank him for the opportunity. Working with a Hebridean Black has been my goal ever since I can remember, but I have to keep my head clear and think of what's best for the dragon.

"Thinking like this is exactly why I am giving the job to you even though I told you the last time you begged me that you need at least 7 more years before you can work with them." Something in his eyes shifted. He had the exact expression on his face as he did when he assigned me to breed those two Fireballs.

"You are up to something. What's wrong with the dragon?" I pursed my lips at him.

"Oh, the dragon is just fine. Lovely, actually. I bet you two will have a lot of fun." The sarcastic tone in his voice told me that he was hiding something from me but I didn't dare to ask him about it.

He deemed me ready to work with a Hebridean Black. To work with my favorite breed. I am not about to jeopardize that if he thinks I am the one for the job. In a week my biggest dream will come true and there was nothing in the world that could ruin that.

[blossom-hwa]

hi! i really liked your sungyoon fanfiction, light the pyres—apocalypse aus are great. very nervous to ask for your 4th anniv event but could i perhaps get kang yeosang + the title "3 of hearts?" (if anyone reading here knows what show it's from ily!)

hi love! light the pyres is actually one of the works I'm most proud of so it makes me so happy to hear that you liked it! thank you for your request - I'm not sure what 3 of hearts it from lol (maybe one of my followers does), but I hope you still enjoy this!

4 year anniversary drabble game: send me a Stray Kids/The Boyz/Golden Child/Ateez member + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

I guess this could be seen as a sort of spinoff of Kingdom (read the series here) - I haven’t posted the next parts yet, but this takes place in the Queendom of Hearts, which is where Checkmate is set :D like Kingdom, it’s heavily inspired by Marissa Meyer’s book “Heartless” - the story of a queen who went mad over love >:)

Uh so TXT Yeonjun is technically here but please don’t take my characterization of him as anything even close to who he is irl.... just think of it as me taking just his name and slapping it on a character I made I’m sorry

~

Title: Three of Hearts

Pairing: Yeosang x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Triggers: mentions of blood and death (semi-graphic)

~

They said you were born under the three of hearts, a spell of kind fortune, a card of good omen. "Your child will be beautiful," the diviner said when she placed you in your mother's arms. "They will love deeply, and in return, they will be loved greatly."

It was a blessed birth for the Kingdom of Hearts, whose rulers, though loved, had not been able to secure an heir for many years. Already the conception of a child was a miracle - to have you born under such an auspicious card only heightened the excitement, cast even more light on a day already filled with laughter and joy. Your parents showered you with love, and as the years passed, you grew in blissful happiness, surrounded by those who adored you. And truly, it seemed you were the three of hearts personified - for with you were two boys, Yeosang and Yeonjun, your best friends, who followed you everywhere you went. 

It was inevitable, then, people whispered, that at least two of you would fall in love. 

At the age of six, seven, ten, even twelve, you could ignore this. You could play the innocent card that came so easily to those born under the three of hearts, bat your eyes and cock your head and ask “What do you mean?” in reply to the questions people asked - do you have a crush? I’m sure you do. It must be on one of the boys you’re always running around with, yes? But as you grew older and the question of to whom you would extend your hand in marriage became increasingly important, your eyes began to fixate on soft blond hair and warm brown eyes, smile widening in the presence of a deep, gentle voice accompanied by the loveliest sparkle in his eyes. 

The traits of a certain best friend and heir to the Kang family fortune. 

He offers a courtship under the flowering wisteria tree just under your window, pale cheeks tinted with blush as he stutters his way through a short confession. Your heart warms, lifts, bursts with joy as you accept with a smiling nod, rejoicing that you have found a match who will love you as much as you love him. Three of hearts, you think giddily - I will be loved as much as I give it.

The stages of courtship seem to pass by all too slowly and at the same time, all too quickly. Caught up in a whirl of fine clothes and presents and ceremonies, you fall asleep every night eager to wake at dawn, if only to see Yeosang’s face the next day. Every moment with him seems too short, and every moment with him feels too long. 

One afternoon under the wisteria tree, you complain of this. Yeosang laughs at your indignation, though when you go to hit his shoulder, he catches your fingers with soft, warm hands, before kissing your forehead gently. “It will be all right,” he murmurs, pulling away just enough for you to see the sparkle in his eyes. “We’ll have a lifetime together, after this.”

A lifetime. Born under the three of hearts, destined for a life of love and happiness, you believed it. 

So much, in fact, that you forget to watch out for the second best friend at your side. 

It never occurred to you to take caution with Yeonjun. He was your best friend. Even upon the announcement of your engagement, he only ever smiled and congratulated the two of you, knocking your heads together teasingly when you got too mushy for his taste. Yeosang even asked him to be one of the groomsmen when the wedding date was set. 

So you never notice the way Yeonjun’s gaze always lingers on you a little too long, the way his eyes darken whenever you place a chaste kiss on Yeosang’s lips. You do notice that he spends more and more time away from you, away from Yeosang as the wedding approaches, but it’s easy to put it down to affairs of the Choi family that you simply aren’t privy to. Perhaps something has gone wrong. Yeonjun would tell you about it in due time, wouldn’t he?

On the night before your wedding, you and Yeosang dance together under a sea of sparkling stars, white engagement outfits shimmering under the night sky. The people cheer. Your parents wipe away tears. You almost cry, too, wrapped in the warmth of Yeosang’s arms around your waist, his eyes smiling into yours. 

You part ways with promises of tomorrow and a lifetime hanging on your lips. When you finally fall asleep, it is to dreams of a beautiful future, complete with Yeosang by your side. 

Instead, you wake up in a world where he is dead.

They say the servant who found the body went mad afterward. You don’t blame them. When you saw the body covered in its rips and stains of red, it felt like a part of your mind simply disappeared. Scrambled. Something. All you could see was the body splashed with blood, unseeing eyes wide open and glassed with the sheen of death. 

And there’s no time to grieve, either, because the next day, the Choi family storms the castle with shouts of a coup and rebellion on their lips. 

All you can do is stare into Yeonjun’s stony expression as he orders the execution of your parents right before your eyes. 

He finds you in your rooms a week later, a beautiful prison of silk and satin that they took away so you wouldn’t hang yourself before he came. His eyes soften upon seeing you, but when he reaches out a hand, you slap it away. 

Only one word leaves your lips. “Why?”

Love, he says. Love for you. Love that burned fierce, hot, so unlike the soft warmth of Yeosang’s hand, love that burned so bright it couldn’t stand to fall second to the gentleness of Yeosang’s smile. His heart burned for you, beat for you, enough to plan all of this, enough to ask, even now - 

“Will you marry me?”

The wisteria tree outside your window is in full bloom under a bright, cloudless sky. A mockery of the day Yeosang asked for your hand and you gave him your heart. 

In the absence of blades and bullets, no one should underestimate the power that fingernails can do to raw skin and bone.

“You worthless, worthless human being,” you snarl, even as guards drag you back from Yeonjun’s bleeding face. “Worthless - worthless - I will never marry you -”

“You will,” Yeonjun snarls back, now a safe distance away from the blood caking your nails. “You will or you will die.”

You don’t die. You almost do, jamming the lock on your door and smashing the fortified window with a superhuman strength you believe Yeosang and your parents have lent you for one night, just one night before leaping into the branches of the wisteria tree, crashing to the ground in a heap of branches and flowers and glass. They nearly catch you - an arrow pierces your shoulder and another streaks so close it almost cuts off your ear - but you escape. And hide. For days, weeks, months...

Until you return with a sword and murder in your eyes, slashing through every guard on your way into the castle until you come across Yeonjun sitting upon your father’s throne, the crown of your family on his head. 

“Would you?” he whispers, the tip of your sword positioned over his heart. “Would you, truly?”

A blank smile curves your lips. “Of course,” you whisper. “Just the same way you would.”

They crown you queen with triumph in their eyes, songs of a royal who avenger their lover’s death when a jealous suitor got in the way. You listen to it with stony eyes and teeth gritted behind your lips, especially when they speak of the three of hearts, blessed above all, destined for a life of love -

There is no love left in your heart that wasn’t taken away with the death of Yeosang and your family.

You execute the Chois. You execute their allies. You root through the kingdom, imprisoning those with even a semblance of a relationship to the man who killed your love, who took the blessing of your card away. The songs die away, replaced by whispers of a queen gone mad with the loss of their love. Triumphant shouts of a blessed three of hearts turn into murmurs of a curse, a new meaning to your card - perhaps not one destined for love, but one whose life will end in tragedy. Pain. Suffering.

They are wrong. Your life was full of love, love that you gave on your own and love that was given by those around you. It was the cause of your happiness and the reason for your suffering - love killed Yeosang and your family, just as it killed the last bit of humanity in you. 

The words of the diviner mock your grief. 

“Your child will be beautiful.”

Not as beautiful as he ever was. 

“They will love deeply.”

Where did that get you? 

“And in return, they will be loved greatly.”

Where did that get him?

No longer do they speak of the three of hearts as a blessing, as a sign of blissful omen. Instead, they speak of it as a curse, a curse of love, a curse of madness, a curse of tragedy to follow at every bend. 

Good. They’re right.

The love that the heavens wrought never brought anything more than pain, anyway.

[up-to-some-good]

Part 6: ...and 1 time I did the opposite

I will warn you, this one is bad. If you want to save yourself some pain, don’t read below the cut.

Previous parts: 1 2 3 4 5

The Potters had been cooped up for over a year when they were finally given a break. It was Halloween, the anniversary of their first date, and Sirius and Remus offered to babysit Harry for one night so they could have some alone time. Dumbledore approved the idea and they couldn’t be more pleased. They loved their baby, but they needed a break.

“Don’t let him eat too many sweets,” Lily said, kissing Remus’s cheek.

“Lily,” he said calmly. “You’ve gone over the rules and routine about a hundred times and it’s pinned to the refrigerator. Go, have fun, stop worrying.”

She looked over at Harry, giggling from Sirius’s arms and sighed.

“I hate it when you’re right,” she said, joining James at the car. “I’ll see you three later.”

Remus waved and closed the door before turning back to his boyfriend, who was tickling his godson’s stomach and muttering nonsense at the giggling toddler. He would make a good dad, one day. Remus moved over to the pair and kissed Sirius’s forehead. Sirius handed the toddler over and turned to the kitchen.

“I’ll make us some dinner, you handle the baby,” he called as he walked away.

A few hours later, Remus finished drying the dishes and walked back to the living room where Sirius was with Harry. He was telling his godson about their first Halloween at Hogwarts, casting small pumpkins and bats out of sparks to illustrate the finer points of the story. Harry giggled and tugged at his hair, before swiping at the sparks and causing them to dissolve.

“Stop lurking, Moony,” Sirius said. “Come sit with us.”

He smirked before sitting with the two, joining in on the story telling until a clock somewhere in the house chimed eight times and both men gasped.

“It’s past your bedtime, Haz,” Sirius said, tickling his godson again. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“No!” Harry yelled, barely getting the word out through his giggles.

“Yes,” Sirius said. “Uncle Moony’s gonna take you and get you all snuggled up, okay?”

“Story?” Harry asked, now looking over at Remus earnestly.

“Of course,” Remus answered, dropping his wand on the coffee table.

He took the boy into his arms and started up the stairs. Halfway up, he heard Sirius’s footsteps clunking quickly into the entryway and his blood ran cold.

“Remus! Take Harry and run!” he yelled. “He’s here!”

He heard the front door opening as he entered Harry’s room and barricaded the door. His wand was downstairs on the coffee table. Dumbledore had the invisibility cloak and Sirius had the mirror. He was trapped.

He heard a muffled voice and a flash of green light refracted under the door. There was a loud thud.

“Sirius,” he whispered, falling to his knees. “No.”

He heard footsteps on the stairs, to quiet to come from Sirius’s heavy boots and moved to brace himself against the crib.

“Mooey?” Harry asked, too quietly.

“I’m here, Harry,” he said, barely holding back his tears. “It will be okay.”

The door was blasted off its hinges and Voldemort stepped into the room. Harry started crying. Remus didn’t turn to comfort him – he had to protect him first.

“Please, don’t,” Remus choked out.

Voldemort sighed.

“Black is dead,” he said mildly. “I could use a spare werewolf, Lupin. Step aside and you will be welcomed into my army.”

“I’d rather die,” he spat.

“As you wish.”

A flash of green light illuminated the room. Remus Lupin fell to the ground. Harry continued to cry as Voldemort turned his wand on the boy.

“Avada kedavra!”

The curse rebounded and the room exploded, leaving a crying toddler in the wreckage of his home, alone.

***

Lily was laughing as James drove home. It was the first time she had felt so calm in months. Her laughter died abruptly as they pulled up to their street and she saw flames. She grabbed James’s thigh and he sped up.

Their house was in flames, a hole in the left side where Harry’s room looked into the street. James was out of the car in a second, running to open the front door and falling to his knees as soon as he opened it. Lily was right behind him.

“Pads,” he choked out, sobbing.

Sirius was in the entrance hall, dead. His eyes were wide open, and his wand was nowhere around. Lily thought back to him at Hogwarts, laughing loudly with his arms around James’s shoulders, at their wedding, dancing with Remus, on the battlefield, eyes fierce and wand drawn. It was strange to see him so still.

A baby’s cry drew her attention. She squeezed James’s shoulder before turning to run up the stairs, shaking as she stepped over Sirius’s body.

She found Harry in his cot, the sole survivor in the house. Remus’s body was in front of his crib from where he had clearly tried to protect her son. She picked up the toddler and rocked him gently, willing herself not to collapse next to Remus and sob until she couldn’t breathe.

Remus, who had helped her with Care of Magical Creatures when she was struggling, missing a Hogsmeade weekend with the marauders, who had walked her down the aisle at her wedding, the first person she told she was pregnant, was dead.

She walked back downstairs to find James standing at the door, clutching the frame for support. He turned when he saw her and rushed to take Harry from her, wiping the blood off of his son’s forehead to reveal a curse scar.

“If I ever see Pettigrew again,” he muttered. “I’ll kill him.”

The funeral was a painful affair. Neither Sirius nor Remus had any family beside the Potters. The whole Order attended and praised them as heroes, but it didn’t dull the ache in James’s chest. Sirius, his brother, was killed. Remus, the love of Sirius’s life, had had to listen to his body crumple to the floor before he succumbed to the same fate. It was all Peter’s fault. They had trusted Peter with their lives, with Harry’s life, and he had betrayed them, for what? Power? He couldn’t make sense of it.

He tried to comfort himself that Lily was alive, that Harry was safe, but he couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if they had been home. He had lost almost everything and gotten so close to losing it all. It was unbearable.

Lily was quiet as they walked home. The house they were renting was empty. They had left Harry with Frank’s mother for the funeral and would pick him up later. For now, they needed a moment alone.

He knew something was wrong when he opened the door, year of war had given him instincts for that sort of thing. He didn’t have time to react before he and Lily were roughly tied up and brought to their knees, their wands taken.

Before them stood Bellatrix Lestrange, flanked by her husband and his brother. Behind them, a young boy stood quietly, thrumming with excitement. Bellatrix pointed her wand at James, one of the brothers pointed his at Lily. White hot pain rolled through James’s body, and he heard Lily cried out next to him. It stopped suddenly.

“The pain stops when you tell us where the Dark Lord is,” Bellatrix said.

Four wands now pointed at the Potters. No one would look for them for hours. They had no way out.

“We don’t know,” Lily panted out.

The pain started again.

James thought of Lily, laughing at Harry smashing the vase Petunia had given to them. He thought of Harry, mesmerised by his father’s animagus form. He thought about Sirius and Remus and his parents and everyone he had ever loved before he blacked out.

***  

Petunia Dursley did not like the wizarding hospital – St Muggo’s or whatever it was called. It smelled like a normal hospital, but off – something unidentifiable in the air. Her nephew clutched on to her shirt, especially quiet for a three-year-old. She didn’t like bringing him here, but the letter from Dumbledore had emphasised that she must, and she was rather afraid of the wizard. She couldn’t understand why the Potters were here in the first place, and why they didn’t ever seem to get better; no one had ever explained it to her, and she didn’t bother to ask. She had enough on her plate between Dudley and her nephew.

Lily Potter didn’t recognise them when they walked into the room. Her husband – Jack? – never even acknowledged them, staring out of the window and humming some inane tune. Both of them looked terrible, their skin sunken and grey, their hair dull with premature grey hairs. Both had lost the light in their eyes that Petunia had seen years ago.

Harry babbled at his mother while Petunia read a magazine. Her sister didn’t say a word and didn’t seem to hear her son either. Today, Lily’s husband seemed to be paying attention, his eyes flickering between Harry and Lily with what might be mistaken for interest if he weren’t completely insane

After half and hour she stood up to leave. She stalked into the corridor with Harry holding her hand. He was big enough to walk now, so she ensured he did whenever possible. A sound from behind her made her turn around.

Lily stood in the hallway and reached out to her son. Harry walked wearily over to her. She took his hand and placed and candy wrapper in his palm, squeezing his hand around it, before kissing his head and wondering back into her room, humming.

It was something, Petunia thought with a strange feeling of relief, something that looked like recovery.

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33-Epilogue

— I just wanna say thank you so much to everyone who followed along, your comments and suggestions along the way really helped to bring this story to life! It’s my longest fic to date, and to think it started as a one-shot for nalu day 2020 lol. YOU GUYS HELPED MAKE THIS HAPPEN! 🥳🥰🥰 ILY YOU ALL!💜💜💜💜

@mcornilliac special shout out for you help with the toughest part 😘

Even after all these years, riding on a train still brought a small flutter to Lucy’s stomach as she remembered the long ago evening when she’d met her husband. From an innocent meeting to a death defying experience, talk about a roller coaster ride. And yet, if she had to do it all over again, Lucy wouldn’t change a thing. Crazy sounding yes, for why would anyone not want to avoid what she’d gone through? Touka had truly pushed her sanity to the breaking point, but well, the therapist was right in the end and Lucy felt almost invincible now. All that pain, all the struggle she’d pushed through had made her the strong and resilient woman she was today. Happily married to Natsu with their fraternal twins Nashi and Ryuu. Mrs. Natsu Dragneel, Lucy smiled to herself, there was no way she’d change a thing.

Of course, it hadn’t been easy. After Natsu proposed and Lucy had accepted, there were still a lot of work to be done. But that measure of acceptance and affection did wonders. Any worries she’d had that he wouldn’t want a broken woman melted away and gave her the confidence to get better. With each passing therapy session, her strength grew, and by the time they graduated college, Lucy could honestly say she’d been cured to a functional degree. No longer struggling through nightmares and panic attacks, her anxieties were under control and the debilitating depression a distant memory where it belonged.

Yeah... Lucy sighed happily as she watched the landscape pass by from her train seat. Meeting Natsu was the best thing to ever happen in her life, well, aside from the kids. They’d married about a year after graduation on the anniversary of their meeting. It was a beautiful affair at an indoor venue, with close friends and family to join them. They’d gone a more modern route for the ceremony but did take pictures at a garden dressed in the traditional attire for sentimental reasons. Lucy wore the shiromuku white kimono while Natsu a montsuki haori hakama. And no, it wasn’t train themed! Levy was the Maid of Honor and Gray was the best man. By then, Levy and Gajeel were also married and Gray in a serious relationship with a girl named Juvia Lockser. Lucy was so happy for them both. All of their lives were moving in the right direction.

Everything was perfect. Great jobs in their fields of interest, lives settled into a comfortable routine, when 5 years later Lucy was pregnant with fraternal twins. It was a total surprise since twins didn’t run in either of their families. Always the jovial optimist, Natsu joked that they’d been doubly blessed because of what they’d gone through, and Lucy couldn’t help but love such a concept. Of course, once the euphoria of the motherhood prospect waned, reality set in that she was having twins! Two! Double the babies meant double of everything, from the pregnancy concerns to raising them. Growing up without a mother and as an only child, Lucy didn’t have a lot of experience with small children. But Natsu patiently assured her, that she’d do just fine. Think of it as a new challenge, and after overcoming one pretty tough situation, this would be a walk in the park. On the bright side, Levy was also pregnant with the couple’s first child so the two best friend’s kids would grow up together.

And Natsu was right, there were a few bumps in the road but nothing too difficult. During her fourth month Lucy was diagnosed with gestational diabetes as well as some minor gastrointestinal issues, so Natsu swayed the doctor to put her on bed rest. Better safe than sorry. The babies were healthy, but by the 7th month, she really couldn’t move much, and she was miserable being stuck at home all the time. Lucy missed her job because she genuinely enjoyed working for the magazine. But in the end, it had been a good thing. She could manage her health easier that way and it gave her time to do something she’d thought about doing as part of the healing process. With Natsu’s support and permission, it was time to put her writing skills to good use and write a book about their experience.

It became an instant hit, especially with female readers. The book was not only an autobiographical reflection of what had happened to them but focused on shining a light on the dangers of stalkers, as well as the importance of taking the warning signs seriously. Lucy didn’t hold back in her re-telling, even pointing out the serious flaws in Japan’s laws in protecting citizens from stalkers which at the time were nonexistent. Feminist organizations working to change those laws used her story with permission for their cause. She had no intentions of becoming a poster child for the movement, but in the end her role may have played its part, because 2 years after the publishing, Japan finally adopted anti-stalking laws making it easier for police to string together harassment cases, as well as for victims to get the help they needed.

Her life was nothing but exciting to say the least! And with two young children, now age 10 certainly kept them on their toes. Their daughter Nashi was just like Natsu, very outgoing, friendly, but a bit of a daredevil while her brother Ryuu born 4 minutes after her was the quieter of the two. He preferred books like his mother to adventure. Of course, that never stopped Nashi from dragging him into shenanigans! But the best part was how close they still were and fiercely protective of each other. Lucy and Natsu couldn’t be prouder of them and hoped this would continue throughout their lifetimes.

Fifteen years... come to think of it, their wedding anniversary was coming up shortly. With Natsu now a senior fire inspector for the Tokyo prefectural government, he was often busy. Lucy did mind it, because frankly it gave her some peace and quiet. She chuckled at the thought. Not that it was all that peaceful with the twins. But she digressed. His success meant their lives were very comfortable, and her own journalism successes while not as financially based, were still celebrated in their relationship. Natsu never waned in being the dutiful and supportive, always loving husband that Lucy felt blessed to grow old with.

‘Two more stops, pick up the kids from school, stop at the grocery store for dinner...’ Lucy tapped out on her phone a to-do list of ingredients to pick up at the store. Perhaps katsudon... ‘Mmm, or maybe nabe,’ hot-pot soup since it was expected to be a bit chilly that evening.

Lucy looked up briefly, really just spacing out in thought when someone catches her eye. At the other end of the train car, she noticed a woman facing slightly away, but enough to where she couldn’t quite see a face. It couldn’t be... Lucy looked away not wanting to stare, but somehow... for some reason the woman was awfully familiar... looking exactly like Touka. Well, not exactly, but enough to make the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It was a blonde, with a different hair style— and that could always be changed. Similar body type, the facial side-profile features that Lucy could see resembled Touka...

Now despite being better, her anxieties still bubbled up from time to time, so she immediately switched to her coping techniques to calm them down. ‘You’re fine,’ Lucy talked herself through it, ‘no point in getting riled up.’ The woman hadn’t done so much as looked in her direction, so it must be okay. Contrary to popular belief, things like depression and anxiety never fully goes away, especially when someone has experienced a severe level of it. Those emotions and irrational thoughts are forever programmed into the brain, but there are ways to keep them at bay and Lucy’s successfully done just that for 15 years.

‘Just go back to what you were doing. Katsudon or nabe? And don’t forget you need to pick up milk...’ But, fifteen years... could Touka have been released by now? Lucy shook the thought away again. ‘Stop it! Everything is fine. It’s not her!’ The train was semi-full of passengers all minding their own business... including the woman. There was no reason to start panicking now. Lucy adjusts her position on her seat away from the woman’s direction. If she couldn’t see her, she could pretend she didn’t exist. ‘Maybe I should pick up ingredients for both, that way I don’t have to shop tomorrow.’ Lucy thought to herself, and with the kids with her, they could help in carrying the shopping bags. ‘Yeah, we’ve got a plan…’

After figuring out her shopping list, Lucy pulled up social media to keep herself distracted and for a few minutes it did the trick. Silly videos of entertainers never got old. The train reached the next stop and she felt it come to a stop. Since it wasn’t hers, she didn’t pay it any mind as she scrolled through her feed. But as the disembarking passengers funnel past Lucy, her eyes pick up on a pair of pink high-heels peeking from over the edge of her phone. Her body instantly stiffened up from the similarity to the ones worn by the woman, while her curiosity slowly got the better of her. ‘Breath, act nonchalant!’ Lucy’s eyes tracked the high-heels moving past her until they left her periphery. She then slowly sat back up, pretending to readjust her position, when she caught a pair of eyes looking back. Lucy’s breathing hitches with a shaky exhale. “Oh, my god—"

Standing at the doorway with one hand on the frame, the blonde woman smiled at Lucy then winked before stepping off the train.

It was Touka!