#I don't care what that woman says. let her fail me. let her see that I'm not being self deprecating when I say I suck

[malachitezmeyka]

Me: So yeah, in the Sacrifice AU in order to cope with her trauma Suiren develops an alterhuman thing where she thinks of herself as a malevolent swamp spirit, both to feel invincible and to prove everyone who turned against her right, in a "you want me to be the villain? Fine, I'll be the villain" kind of way. They think of her as evil and rotten and an omen of doom? Okay, so be it, maybe she is all those things and more, much more than they can ever imagine. She'll show them all

My brain: Mhm, mhm, and I suppose your intense self hatred, the endless criticism you face from everyone in your life, the unyielding sense of impending doom hanging over you like a dark cloud, the hysterics you fall into whenever you think about how this endless every day battle won't end with highschool and you still have to go to uni afterwards and then work every day of your life until you eventually drop dead, all the while knowing you will never be loved like you want to because there are more As in your aspec identity than in your report card which, combined with everything else, makes you want to say "fuck it" to every last expectation, stop putting in the effort, ignore assignments and stop caring about reviewing bad grades, not do any studying at all and wing your exams and fail to get accepted anywhere with the low scores you'll likely get if you do that, effectively throwing your whole life away, just so your parents can finally be justified in calling you a disappointment, just so you can actually be as bad as they make you out to be and so much worse... has nothing to do with any of that, then?

Me: ...... oh for FUCK'S SAKE–

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

Don't mind me, just revisiting the plot (again) and dying over this line (again). (These screenshots are going to be abysmal, but you'll get the point).

"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."

Yeah he's talking about Mythal (earned or not) and Felassan and Lavellan and Varric...but the way it applies to HIM, too, is what absolutely guts me.

Long post ahead...

Solas realizing that Lavellan doesn't care about how others see him or want to use him under the inquisiton, that HIS motivations as he has shared them are enough for her and worth defending against those who would tell him he's something he isn't. Solas, for the first time, being confronted with the realization that one these new elves he does not see himself in will still go to bat for him.

"You came here to help, Solas, I won't let them use that against you."

(Is he duplicitous? Yes. But intent on working against Corypheus? Undoubtedly).

“How would you stop them?”

“However I had to.”

“...thank you.”

Solas grappling with the fact that it wasn't just a one off, that this Dalish woman being faced with "hypotheticals" he's desperately been trying to get her people to entertain is jumping in head first, pushing back and disagreeing with him but never treating him worse for their differences and always admitting when he's helped shape a changing perspective. Solas daring to ask for help and marveling at the fact that he receives it, that the same woman who asked if it might some day be possible to live alongside spirits, who did not immediately shoot down his critique of THE CHANTRY REFUSING TO ACKNOWLEDGE SPIRITS AS LEGITIMATE BEINGS (GAH), who did not laugh at him for saying he preferred their company most days, this woman, is going to drop time and resources during war time preparations to personally help his friend.

And then, when he is too late and has once again failed someone he considers a friend, he disappears within himself, where he has always gone to exact punishment for the weight of the lives he believes he's betrayed. It almost works, too.

Psych. Lavellan doesn't want him to grieve alone, to stare at the place in the Fade where his friend used to be and think of all he should have done differently.

“The next time you have to mourn, you don’t need to be alone.”

“It’s been so long since I could trust someone.”

“I know.”

“I’ll work on it. And thank you.”

And still she unbalances him, accepts him, wants more. Solas is sharing a personality that brings him the closest he has ever been to his spirit form, and it is ENOUGH for her. Existing as he has always dreamt of is all takes to earn her loyalty, respect, and eventually love.

But does she stop there? No. She doesn't chafe at this random apostate who speaks with certainty and unapologetically delves into a past he believes worth preserving, even at the cost of questioning her culture as it currently stands.

The very woman he once thought of as a mistake that HE unleashed upon the world is asking to be a part of his, not because of what he can bring to the table, not because she needs a right hand man, and certainly not because she thinks he has some well of power and intelligence critical to winning over enemies she’s willing to join for "supervisory" purposes (cough cough hi Mythal). She bears the weight of choices that can and will lead to death, to pain, and when it wears on her she relies on him, not for solutions but so that at the end of it all she might smile with someone who knows her heart and the good she tried to do amidst a sea of terrible options. She wants to be known, no inch of her unturned, and worse, she thinks she knows him. But how could she? This is no longer who he is, it is merely the remnants of what he destroyed to make a world at Mythal's whim.

“You’re an admirable man. Not many people know who they are the way you do.”

“Thank you. Both for saying that and…for seeing that. Few in this world can see me instead of just seeing a pair of pointed ears”

She. Sees. Him. Every part he slowly is realizing he wants to be known for and even a few he thought he could hide. And then he gives it all up. Because he woke to a new world where spirits and elves and mages were so far removed from the role they played in Arlathan that it can only be yet another mistake he caused and must fix, never mind the fact that the dwarves have forgotten why they fled underground millennia ago in the first place.

The friend who tore him from the world he loved, urged him to take physical form? She is dead, too, never mind the fact that she ignored his urging for a different path, nevermind that he killed and tore and hurt in her name because otherwise what was losing the part of himself he loved for?

"A spirit becomes a demon when denied its original purpose.”

“It hurts. It always does, but I will survive.”

“You bound it to obedience, then commanded it to kill. That is when it turned.”

He may no longer recognize where the Dread Wolf ends and where Solas begins, but if he gives up now and permits himself the chance to remember, the pain he caused himself and others means nothing, because he did it all for Mythal and in his final discussion with her, regardless of what Veilguard tries to convey, she does not release him from his position as her agent.

And maybe that's part of why I'm so angry, because EVEN BEFORE TRESPASSER, the fragment of Mythal that ends up in Morrigan could have freed him, but she does not.

"I am sorry." He whispers.

"The failure was mine," he tells her, voice trembling. "I should pay the price."

Silence.

And do we get that "what we did, we did together" psuedo-fake ass-absolution, the one that, if given enough time and safety to put himself first he may have realised he doesn't truly need to pursue the things he deserves, that make him feel finally like himself again? No the fuck we don't.

"As am I, old friend." She murmurs.

Looking through the lens of Veilguard, this isn't an apology, it's a condemnation. It's Mythal tormenting him one more time, twisting the knife deeper, agreeing that it is Solas alone who has brought them to this point, who deserves to be punished. And then she reminds him what they are to each other, what he is supposed to be to her. What he must become again.

"It isn't abuse if I ask," Cole says in his personal quest.

"Not always true," Solas shoots back.

So he recommits to the friend he gave up his nature for, he refuses to let himself remember that Lavellan learned the full truth of his identity and still begged him not to mourn alone. Even so, he still cannot quite forget.

Var lath vir suledin. Our love will persevere.

I wish it could, vhenan.

And so he pushes onwards, spending almost a decade denying himself his true nature and regretting that he ever gave it a chance to come through because now he KNOWS that this world is different and a little broken, but it's a world he could be a part of because of the woman and the friends that made a place for him. It is a world that doesn't necessarily need to be restored as much as it might need renovation, but that is not the world Mythal demanded of him when she let him kill a remaining piece of her. And any solution but that means the hurt of taking a body, of hurting the titans, of time and time again being called on by one evanuris to fix a problem they all caused, was for nothing.

And a Pride of that magnitude, that sinister an origin, has a long, long way to fall.

And then that same uppity little shit has the audacity to tell him it's not too late, that he can turn back.

He kills again. He kills again. He kills again.

He kills a friend.

He fails to prevent the Evanuris from wreaking havoc a second time, wrenches another innocent into his war, and when they ask him about the woman he calls vhenan, he feels the mask stifling him begin to suffocate. But he never lets it fall, because to surrender now is to place her broken heart atop the pile of regrets he's been holding up like Atlas crumbling beneath the weight of the world itself. Because he still thinks it selfish to want the things that make him feel like himself again, so they need to be taken off the board entirely.

"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."

If he gives up now, his entire corporeal life has been a betrayal of many, but worst of all, he will have ruined himself for nothing.

But then she's there. A little older, a little sadder, and still looking at him like she did the night he almost broke and instead carefully removed any suggestion that she had ever belonged to anyone but herself.

"Didn't you hear me?" Her every action screams as she kneels to meet his gaze like he did the day he took her arm (another failure, another sacrifice he cannot let be for nothing).

The tombstone in the fade is his greatest fear, but it is not his fate. Why? She will not let it be. It cannot be his din'anshiral if she is not beside him.

Lavellan may not have understood the depth of exactly WHEN Solas first came somewhere foreign and uncertain to help, but she never once failed to keep her promise. She refuses to let his initial desire to do good be held against him any longer. And when she sees him accept that not-quite-absolution-definitely-more-of-a-power-play from the god that saw what he was capable of and molded him into a weapon, she finds her in to make sure he doesn't walk off alone to mourn again, never again will she lose him to the expectations others have of him. No doubt she wants to find a way to sink the fingers of her good hand into that spectral visage and tear it away like he wishes to do to the veil. But she is not here for Mythal. She is here for her heart, and for the man who has been carrying it since the moment her lips met his in the fade ten years ago.

“No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon.”

She forces him to see that the only remaining betrayal is to lock himself away one more irreversible time. All that's left to lose is the piece of himself he cherishes more than his greatest victories: all that he has to gain comes from making sure the love that was given to him at Skyhold, in the moment where Varric saw all he was capable of and still tried to bring him back home, was not given in vain.

"There is no fate but the love we share." She tells him as soon as Mythal's too-little-too-late platitudes send shudders through his body.

Banal nadas ar lath'ma vhenan.

It will not be so terrible a place, so unforgivable a betrayal if he can finally dare to put himself first. If, unlike that night in Crestwood, he finally gives in not to break, but to make himself whole.

There's a codex entry in Inquisiton about a spirit of wisdom who is summoned by researchers and only after a very pleasant conversation do they realize they made a mistake and never successfully bound the spirit in the first place, that it chose to speak with them of its own accord.

"I am not certain the spirit would have talked so freely had it been shackled at the time," writes the author of the entry.

I keep thinking about this alongside the datamined line of Morrigan saying, "And so, the Dread Wolf is stopped by, of all things love."

But that isn't quite right, is it?

Because in the end, of course the Dread Wolf could only ever freed by, over everything, love.

[rosenclaws]

Congratulations on the 600 followers!!!

Can I request a smut/NSFW drabble.. I'm thinking worst logan..

Neighbour(?) Reader got asked out as a joke and he finds her upset.. (plus size if possible if not no worriessss!!!!)

Love your work!!

And congrats again on all the followers that's AMAZING!!

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, fem!reader, plus sized!reader, oral (f!receiving), dirty talk, logan low key has a thigh kink, pet names (princess and pretty girl)

600 follower drabble masterlist

wc: 1.3k

a/n: Worst logan my love. Also this is my first time writing explicitly plus sized so please let me know if I need to change anything!! I hope you like it <33 Also this turned into way more than a drabble lol.

Men really were the fucking worst. Actually the fucking worst. What reason could someone have to do something so cruel? For a joke? A laugh? To hurt someone so badly just for fun? You sat at the damn restaurant for an hour checking your phone.

When you finally did get ahold of that asshole he just laughed at you. Told you it was a joke, that he'd never seriously be into someone like you. Your eyes welled with tears but you refused to let them fall in public. God, you can still feel the stares of people around you. The whispers.

How sad, that poor girl.

Did you see her check her phone over and over again?

Don't stare, she probably already feels bad enough...

Their words stung more than that assholes. You aren't stupid, you know that you aren't stereotypically attractive. You don't match the girls in magazines.

But that doesn't mean you don't deserve basic human respect. You didn't even like the guy, in fact, based on his horrible personality you were really doing him a favor.

You angrily stomped up the stairs and through the hallway. You should feel bad about the noise but you just can't bring yourself to care. You slam your door closed and toss your things onto your couch. A knock on the door almost makes you scream. Whoever it was needs to take the hint.

"What." You say as you rip open your door.

"Oh. It's you." You say flatly.

Any other time you'd be thrilled to see your hot neighbor at your door but right now it felt like another reminder of your failed love life.

"What crawled up your ass? Could hear you muttering a mile away." He asks and you roll your eyes.

"Brought you a peace offering." He holds up a bottle of wine and you decide to let him in.

"You're a man Logan. Why are men such shallow assholes?" You take another sip.

"Date gone bad princess?"

"I wouldn't even call it a date." You swirl your drink around in the glass.

To admit what really happened feels embarrassing. Especially to Logan. You had a massive crush on the man. That started the minute you met him. Your nice but weird neighbor Wade introduced the two of you one night. The second you looked into those gorgeous eyes and shook his big hands it was over.

"Hello? You still there?" Logan waves his hand in front of your face and you snap out of your thoughts. Deciding this day couldn't get any worse so you might as well just tell him.

"I got stood up. Turns out he asked me out as a joke."

"What a fucking dick." Logan growls. His hand tightened around the beer can in his hand.

"He said he'd never be into someone like me." You say with a huff. Drinking the last of your wine.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

“Come on Logan, you’re a million years old you know what I’m talking about.” You gesture to yourself and it seems to click in his head.

“So what? Who fucking cares about that.” The can crushes under his intense grip the longer he thinks about it. You pour yourself more wine before answering him.

“Apparently, most people do.” 

“Well, he’s an idiot. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” He sees you brush him off and it bothers him. He’s not the kind of guy to lie to make you feel better. So why you don’t believe him is beyond him. He sees things as they are.

“I know a beautiful woman when I see one princess.” He smirks as he inches closer to you.

You’ve been the subject of Logan’s wet dreams for a while now. Your sweet laugh and pretty face. The sinful things he’s thought about. He’d feel ashamed but he knows you’ve got the hots for him too. Your staring isn’t as subtle as you think. Plus his super hearing allows for him to pick up on your more…intimate moments. He doesn’t mean to hear them, but he does.

“Logan…” Your breath catches in your throat as he cages you into the couch. His strong arms are on full display for you as you shrink into the couch. He’s got this feral grin on his face that both excites you and makes you nervous.

“Only boys can’t see past that bullshit. I’m a man. A man who knows how to please a woman like you.” He purrs.

Are you dreaming? Is this really happening? His knee nudges its way between your legs. The rough material of his jeans rubs against your panties. The friction makes you squirm.

“You gonna let me make you feel good pretty girl?” He whispers in your ear. His hand slips under your dress, fingers brushing over your clothed cunt. Teasing your skin with his touch.

“Please fuck!” You gasp as you claw at his shirt.

He reaches and tears it to shreds. Your mouth waters as you see his back muscles stretching and bulging, free of any clothing to hide him away. He’s a man on a mission as he lifts your dress up. His massive shoulders push your legs apart. You couldn’t close them even if you wanted to, which you don’t. He pulls your panties to the side and licks his lips.

“Just know she’s ripe and sweet. All for me.” His claws peek out and your heartbeat quickens as the sharp metal cuts through the fabric of your underwear.

“There we go.” He throws the scraps to the side and wraps his arms around your thighs. Hands digging into your soft skin. He squeezes your thighs and you hear a low purr coming from his throat.

“Fuck!” You moan as Logan buries his face in your pussy. There’s no holding back as he laps like an animal feasting on its favorite treat.

“So fucking sweet, god bury me in these thighs.” He mumbles.

His brain fogs with pleasure as he buries his tongue as far as it will go. You’re trapped in feeling his every torturous move. His grip is bruisingly delicious.

“Logan logan fuck don’t stop!” You tug hard on his hair as you grind your hips against his mouth. You’re losing it in pleasure as his tongue flicks across your clit.

“That’s what I’m fucking talking about.” He lifts his head, eyes clouded with lust as he tilts his head back. Savoring the taste of you as he prepares to dive back in. He’d die a happy man just to be suffocated between your beautiful thighs.

“Stupid fucking boys, you don’t need them right pretty girl? Not when you have me. I’ll make you come so hard you’ll never think of anyone else again.” You nod along to whatever he is saying.

Your head is up in the clouds as he sucks on your clit. Determined to make you scream his name. His wish is granted as he relentlessly plays toys with your clit. His tongue works magic as he brings your orgasm crashing down.

“Logan!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you lose yourself in pleasure.

Your senses muddle together as whimpers tumble from your lips, body buzzing with a warm and fuzzy feeling. It doesn’t last long as Logan refuses to let up. Working you into overstimulation until you’re pushing his head away weakly.

“Too much for you?” He licks his lips, a cocky smile on his face.

“No, I just. Need a break.” You say breathlessly as you try and control your breathing.

Your eyes travel down his chest. Admiring his muscles and stupidly attractive arms. His cock is straining in his pants. You let out a small yelp as he picks you up effortlessly.

Man, you love his mutant strength. Logan gently places you on your bed. He toys with your dress as he resists the urge to rip it apart.

“What was that guy's name again?” He asks as he unbuckles his belt. You open your mouth to answer but he cuts you off. He didn’t want an answer anyway.

“Doesn’t matter, You won’t remember it by the time I’m done with you.” 

[tartstealingknave]

hii so like i had an idea where like reader and the twst boys are like fighting but then the enemy like cut the readers shirt and bra in half (stay with me now) and i think it would be funny if the twst would be panicking lowk because they didnt know if reader got hurt but reader is js annoying that her fav bra got cut (and she might have to pay crowley for a new uniform) 😔

OKAYA OKAY THIS IS SO FUNNY TO ME SURE but lowkey when you said her bra got cut I was kinda suspicious on where this was going to untill I finished reading the whole thing, ANYWAYS!! (They lowkey me fr) I will write what you wish for...

Horrible accident

Riddle:

Absolutely worried if you got hurt lmao

Would probably be concerned about your mental health if you just say you didn't like how it ruined your favorite bra

Immediately checks if you're okay (like seeing if you got a scar or something)

Would be relieved that you didn't get hurt

Overall, he's gonna lecture you after the fight that you could've have gotten hurt and you only cared about your bra getting cut

Buys u a new one though

Leona

Lowkey this man is legit a woman respect juice drinker so he would look away before walking to you and covering his eyes while talking to you okay, we love woman respecters:3.

WORRIED BUT HIDES IT BUT FAILED MISERABLY

He literally thought you got SLASHED in the chest (by the enemy) but depending on how slashed you, if it's RSA then they boutta be prepared 😞 if it's a monster like random monster, then it's goodbye to their lives

Overall, he is worried and would NOT be disrespectful:3

He'll buy you a new bra lol

AZUL

Secretly SCREAMING internally in his mind when the fight is over dawg

Would send JADE (NOT FLOYD BC LOWKEY HE WOULD JUST LAUGH AT YOU B4 HELPING YOU) to check if you're okay if he notices that u legit got SLASHED that is VERY NEAR your CHEST

Would actually be redder then a tomato let's be fr

I'm not writing FANON azul okay (SPARE ME PLEASE I DON'T KNOW HOW TO PLAY TWISTED WONDERLAND)

Worried by would calm himself down (he's gonna buy you a new bra dw)

Would probably send Floyd to taunt the enemy

KALIM ( I THINK)

Lwokey FREAKY

But terrified if you were hurt

LIKE HELLO

YOU JUST GOT SLASHED NEAR THE CHEST AND YOUR SHIRT AND BRA GOT CUT

ANYONE WOULD BE TERRIFIED

Laughs it off after he found out you were worried about your bra instead of yourself ☠️

Buys u a new one wink wink

VIL

do NOT let this man know☠️🙏

HE'S MORE WORRIED ABOUT YOUR SKIN AND BEAUTY (probably)

Sends rook to check up on during the fight btw

Rook is kinds freaky but makes sure ur alright

After the fight, expect to get dragged to the shopping mall or smth like that

Makes crowley make u a new uniform! 1! 1! 1! 1 yeayahayay

IDIA

YOU KNOW THIS MAN IS NOT ON THE BATTLE GROUND. BRO GOT FORCED

He was lowkey with you the entire fight so when he saw the enemy cut your shirt and bra

He freaked out

Very.

Bro's hair finna be orange and pink☠️☠️

Bros an interesting case cause I don't know how to write his personality

(Because he's an introvert and I'm basically a very very very experienced extrovert writer but lowkey I'm a introvert and extrovert combined soo)

Buys u a new bra through his tablet and like makes the shipper go to yours to deliver it (it's already paid dw)

MALLEUS

The enemy had a suicide note tbh

Bros fate got decided when malleus appeared behind him☠️

Later the enemy was out of the way!!! (Dead or like gone prbly ran away)

Checks up on u like looks away if the cut of the shirt is very large aka covers his eyes

Buys u a new bra and would lowkey pressure crowley into giving u a new uniform

I'M DONE I'M DONE finally THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR AGES I JUST HAD NO MOTIVATION

[shelbgrey]

She's like the wind (Benedict Bridgerton)

Paring: Benedict Bridgerton x virgin!Reader

Summary: after bottled up feeling becomes too much Benedict finally confesses his love to his childhood best friend.

Warrings: SMUT, innocent/virgin reader, first times, oral(F receiving), unprotected sex, pull out methods, Benedict being a total sweetheart like usual, kinda public sex? But not really(in a gazebo at night).

MasterList ML2

“What is it, truly, to admire a woman? To look at her and feel inspiration. To delight in her beauty. So much so that all your defences crumble, that you would willingly take on any pain, any burden for her. To honour her being with your deeds and words. That is what the true poet describes” Benedict said to help Anthony, but in the end he couldn't keep his eyes off a certain someone as the words fell out of his mouth. It was words he always believed in, but never had the guts to act upon them.

“That's nice...” Anthony admited. He crossed his arms and nodded. “now if you resight those words to y/n that would be grand”

Benedict rolled his eyes, if it was one thing Anthony never gave up on was his little brother and the girl he considered his best friend.

-present day

It was late into the night, Benedict couldn't get her or the last few months out of his head. Benedict and y/n have always been so close, practically glued to the hip since childhood. A blind man could see the love they shared with one another, the problem is he's never made the move to court her

Whenever he gets closer or the spark becomes too much he backs off with the feeling of unworthiness. Anthony never fails with the snide comment about Benedict admitting his feelings.

That night he truly felt he messed up. He had gotten wrapped up with someone else after sharing a kiss with y/n months prior. He wanted everything to be more than alright, he wanted to have the courage to tell the only woman he truly loved that she is the only one he could ever want.

Benedict gave up on getting any sleep and walked out to the backyard. That's when he saw her on one of the swings alone. His heart skipped a beat, even in darkness and in her nightgown she was still unimaginably beautiful.

“You've been avoiding me…”

“I'm not avoiding you…” y/n sighed, avoiding eye contact and gently swung on the swing.

They had been avoiding each other, or y/n had been avoiding him. She had thought he loved her as much as she did him. Y/n had found out he's been sleeping around with someone else. I guess she just lost hope on a future with him.

Benedict let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He watched y/n swing for a few moments, the silence around making his heart beat faster than normal. The only sound was the creaking of the swing sets and the wind rustling the trees. He finally found the strength to speak. “We need to talk darling”

“I don't wish to talk to you” y/n snapped softly. She let out a frustrated huff, standing up from the swing and got back on it. This time she was standing on it with her back to Benedict, she didn't care if it was childish.

A frown came to his face as he saw her turn her back on him. He had to hold back a chuckle seeing y/n standing on the swing set, he thought it would be cute if he wasn't trying to earn her forgiveness.

Benedict took a step in front of y/n and stopped the swing with one hand. “You can be mad at me all you want darling, but we're talking about this”

“Of course I won't get a say in the matter” I said frustrated.

Benedict let out a sigh, placing his hand on the tree next to the swing, blocking her in. “you never had a problem speaking your mind to me before, so speak your mind”

“Fine,” she snapped. “I'm angry at you! You're the most intelligent, most dim-witted person I ever met, but then again I must be beating you on that one because I was dim-witted to think you could ever see more than your best friend”

He was surprised with the coldness in her voice, his heart broke at the thought of all the pain he caused her. “Darling, you think I can't see all that? you're the most beautiful, kindest, and smart woman I have ever laid eyes on. I see all of you, I always have”

“Why don't I believe you?” y/n asked in a heartbroken tone, trying to keep herself from tearing up. “bloody hell, do I actually mean anything more to you?”

“You do darling, you mean more to me than anyone else. You always have!”

Benedict's heart ached at the brokenness in her voice. He could see the pain in your eyes, the sight made him cringe in regret, wishing he had just spoke to her about his feelings instead of going off with the other girl.

“Please look at me” reached his free hand out, moving his fingers gently against her chin. Y/n looked away, tears pricking her eyes. “don't speak words you don't me... Especially don't speak words you'll regret later”

Benedict placed a gentle finger under y/n’s chin and finally turned her face to him, it shattered his heart more to see the tears in her eyes. “Please darling don't cry and please don't take what I say as lying”

He hated the silence, all he wanted to hear was her voice and more than ever he wanted to make sure she believed him. He leaned closer to y/n’s face, gently pressing his forehead against hers. He was desperate to make her believe him.

“I've loved you for as long as I can remember. From the moment I first laid eyes on you, something stirred within me, a connection that resonated deep in my soul.

As the years went by, my feelings for you only grew stronger, yet I found myself hiding them from you and from myself. I became tangled in a web of self-doubt and unworthiness. I convinced myself that I was unworthy of your love and strength, that my love meant nothing.

But now, looking back, You filled a part of my soul I didn't even realize was empty, you healed the scars I didn't even know were there. I see how foolish I was to ignore my heart for so long. Believe me when I say you're the thing I want most of all”

Y/n looked into his blue eyes, tears pooling out of her (e/c) ones. “benedict…”

Benedict couldn't bring himself to take his hands off her. He was trying to fight the urge to hold y/n tight against him, but he just couldn't. He lifted his hand up to her cheek, slowly wiping some of the tears away and caressed her skin. He leaned his head down ever so slightly, his mouth a few inches from hers. “Darling, Say you believe me.please”

Finally, y/n pressed her forehead against his, their noses bumping gently together. “I believe you” y/n whispered. Shebplaced her hands on both sides of his jaw as their breath mingled together.

Benedict exhaled heavily, the feeling of their skin touching together was like a soothing fire. It lit his soul with a passion that he had been trying to ignore. His heart thumped heavily in his chest, the sound of it thundering behind his eardrums.

He leaned even closer, only a breath still separating their lips. His eyes searched hers, his head was spinning with a burning desire, barely holding himself back. When she spoke those words that he longed to hear, the last thread of restraint broke. “Darling... Can I kiss you?”

“yes”

He couldn't resist any longer. His hand moved up into her hair, intertwining into the curls as his eyes flickered from your mouth to your eyes. He quickly closed the gap between their mouths. He captured her lips in a searing kiss. It was like a dam broke inside him. It was desperate and hungry yet needy, making her nearly lose balance off the swing she was standing on.

Benedict felt y/n start to stumble and he quickly wrapped one of his arms tightly around her waist as one of her arms wrapped around his neck and kept a strong hold of the rope on the swing with the other.

His lips moved softly but desperately against hers as he kept her from falling. The feeling of her body pressed so tightly against his made him let out a small moan into the kiss. He held her in place, deepening the kiss. He kissed her like it was their first and last kiss. His tongue slowly swiped your bottom lip, begging for access.

Benedict pulled her off the swing, swiftly pushing her against the tree next to them. He heard the sweet moans coming from her lips. His tongue twirled against hers, tasting her sweet mouth. He pressed his body against hers, pinning her between the tree and himself. He tilted his head slightly, his mouth moving against hers at an angle. The feeling of his fingertips tracing along her curves made her heart pound against her chest. It made her feel exhilarated, nervous, and loved all at the same time.

Benedict broke the kiss when his hand reached the hem of y/n’s nightgown, his lips then traveled down the side of her neck. The feeling of her skin against his mouth left a trail of hot sparks. He stopped to gently kiss a sensitive part of your neck, his tongue slowly tracing the soft skin.

“w-wait” she, her breath hitching as she looked up at him. “y-you know I've n-never done this before” she whispered softly.

He stared at her with nothing but love as he gently held her hips with both his hands, his thumbs rubbing light circles on her skin as he held her against the tree.

“I know darling,” he replied, his voice low and deep, his eyes never leaving hers. “that's why we're not doing it here”

Benedict gently pulled y/n away from the tree, his hands never leaving her body. He looked into her eyes, watching the mixture of passion and nervousness in them. He felt his heart swell with love and desire for. He could practically feel all his emotions bubbling at the surface.

“Do you trust me?” he held his hand out.

The way his eyes stared into her soul, they were always her favorite feature of his. They held nothing but trust and love. “I trust you” y/n said softly and placed her hand in his.

Benedict felt a spark of electricity. His fingers tightened around hers, his hand fitting around it like a perfect missing piece. He lifted her hand up and slowly kissed her knuckles, his eyes not breaking eye contact. “Come darling, the night is still young”

Benedict led y/n through the yard, their hands never breaking from each other. The sound of their soft footsteps on the ground echoed slightly against the night air. The only other sound was from the crickets chirping in the grass and trees. Benedict led her to the gazebo in the very back of the yard, a spot usually hidden by the darkness of the night. It was a small structure, made of wood, with white paint and wisteria winding around it.

Y/n held his hand tight as they silently walked up the steps, her heart pounding with anticipation and anxiety. He wanted to soothe her anxiousness but he was nervous himself. So many years of loving her, dreaming of this moment, and he still couldn't believe it was finally happening. He stopped when she reached the top of the steps, looking into her eyes as he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. His voice was low and gentle. “Just relax darling... It's just you and me here”

Y/n nodded, putting all her trust in him. “I know”

Benedict moved closer to her, his other hand gently coming up to caress the side of her face, his touch was soft and gentle. “You're safe with me darling. I promise I'll take good care of you”

“I know you will” she said softly.

He felt y/n’s hand press against his chest, right over his heart. It almost skipped a beat under her touch. He leaned a little closer, his head slowly lowering until his lips were hovering above hers. “And I promise to worship your body the way you deserve to be worshipped”

Y/n cupped his cheek, kissing him softly as he pressed her back against the pillar. His hands slowly moved to her waist, his fingers gently tracing up and down her curves. He leaned his body against hers, trapping her between him and the pillar.

Y/n moaned softly against his lips, her fingers slowly carding through his hair slowly as their tounges tangled together. Benedict ever so gently broke the kiss and started trailing kisses and gentle nips on her neck. He sucked gently on a spot just slightly below your ear, knowing how sensitive it was. His hands slowly inched higher under her nightgown and lifted you up from under your thighs, carrying her to the middle of the gazebo. He gently layed her down on a spread out quilt Hyacinth left. “are you comfortable here?” he asked softly, she nodded softly.

He knelt down, placing his knees on either side of her hips and leaned over her. He looked down with darkened eyes, slowly inching her nightgown higher. Benedict's eyes traced over her skin as it was slowly revealed to him. He placed his hands on your thighs, his fingers tracing up and down the soft skin. “You're so gorgeous, so beautiful” he said softly, making her blush.

A soft moan left her lips as the cool air hit her exposed skin. He leaned forward, bending over until his mouth was hovering above her stomach. “I'll be gentle, darling. We'll take it slow”

“I trust you” y/n whispered, giving him the green light. Benedict carefully removes her nightgown, throwing it to the other side of the gazebo. He stared down at her innocent beauty, taking a moment to just look at her.

The blush that formed under his gaze only caused his desire to increase. He lays his body down between her legs, his body hovering over her. He closed the distance, making Y/n moaned softly against his lips. She cupped his jaw as his lips clamed hers and gently.

Benedict lets out a low growl, his hands sliding down to her waist as he deepens the kiss. His heart is pounding in his chest. “y/n…”

“Y-yes?” she whisper, her heart pounding against her chest. She stared up at him, desperately wanting his clothes off when she felt his hard erection pressing against her thigh.

He broke the kiss, his breath coming out heavy as he leaned his forehead against hers. He tried to control his breathing but he was failing as all he could think of was just how badly he wanted her. “I need you, y/n. Will you let me make love to you?”

“Yes. God, yes” y/n moaned softly and desperately. Benedict looked down at her, his voice was husky and thick with need. “Tell me if you need to stop, darling. Tell me if it's too much” His hands started their travels again, tracing every curve and every inch of her body.

Y/n kissed back passionately as she started untucking his shirt from his pants. Benedict felt her hands work on the buttons of his shirt. The nervous tremble in her fingers made his heart skip a beat. “Here, darling,” Benedict gently moved her hands away from his shirt. He sat up, kneeling between her legs. He slowly lifted his shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere off to the side.

Her thighs clenched together without realizing it. He watched the way her eyes roamed down his chest. The way she lightly touched him sent chills down his spine. He felt his legs jerk when her fingers traced down the V-line of his lower abdomen, his muscles taut, almost as if he was struggling to control himself.

“Darling” He whispered, his hands gently spreading her legs apart. “My beautiful y/n” He leans forward, pressing soft kisses along her inner thigh.

“B-ben” y/n moaned softly, her head fell back in pleasure as he trailed his lips up her inner thigh. Benedict's blue bord into hers, his gaze filled with love and desire. He never broke eye contact as he continued trailing kisses higher until he reaches her soaking clit, teasing her with gentle kisses and licks. “You taste like heaven”

Y/n moaned almost embarrassing loud, feeling his tounge against her fold for the first time. Out of instincted she arched her hips up, gripping his hair. He hums in pleasure at the taste of her, gripping her hips to hold them still. “Let go, my love,” He continues to lick and nip, his face soaked in her release as his tongue flicking at your clit. “You're mine”

Y/n wasn't completely clueless to sex, but the pleasure was intense and all she could think about was him. She moaned and cried his name as a new feeling tightened in her stomach. “B-ben... I t-think” she couldn't speak or think straight. “something is happening”

Benedict looks up at you. He speaks softly, his voice reassuring. “It's okay, my love. You're having your first orgasm” He picked up the pace, licking and sucking on her clit like a starved man. His fingers gently pressed against her entrance, pumping in and out slowly.

Y/n gripped his hair, arching her hips. “Benedict!”

Benedict, licking up every last drop of her release as she rode out her first orgasm. “You're so beautiful when you come, y/n”

He gives her folds one last lick then starts trailing kisses up her body, paying special attention to her breasts and nipples. “I'm going to make love to you now, are you ready?” He positions himself at her entrance, looking into her eyes for any uncertainty.

“Will it hurt?” y/n asked softly, carding her fingers through his hair.

Benedict looks up at her, his blue eyes dark and filled with desire and love. “It might at first. But I promise it'll feel good after that. I promise I'm going to be gentle, darling”

Y/n nodded softly, he kissed her back gently, before breaking the kiss to look into her eyes. He positions himself at her entrance, taking her hips in his hand. “just tell me when you're ready”

“I'm ready” she said softly, taking a deep breath.

Benedict starts pushing inside slowly, his face contorting in concentration as he tries to be gentle. “Ah, y/n” He breathes out heavily, his eyes never leaving hers. Y/n wimpered at the slight sting, digging her nails into his back as he stretched her out. “B-Benedict”

He stills for a moment, letting her adjust to his size. “Shh, it's okay, my love. Just breathe” He kisses her forehead softly, his heart pounding in his chest. “You're doing so well” He whispered as he continues pushing inside, inch by inch. Once he was finally fully sheathed inside he starts to slowly rock his hips, trying to ease the pain.

Y/n held on to him tight, her breathing was heavy and she wimpered his name as she adjusted to his size. “B-Benny. Oh god, Ben” she moaned as the pain slowly turned into pleasure. He started picking up the pace, pushing deeper and deeper each time. “You feel amazing, y/n. So unbelievably good”

“Benny!” she moaned into the night, tugging at his hair. He hisses in pleasure, gripping her thighs to move them higher and wider. “Oh, y/n” He groans, thrusting deeper. “You're so beautiful, love the sounds you make”

“C-can you go faster?” she asked innocently. “p-please”

Benedict grits his teeth, fighting against his own desire to obey her request. “Faster, y/n?” He asks, his voice strained. “but ou have to promise me that you'll tell me the moment it becomes too much for you, okay? I don't want to hurt you, darling” He said looking into her eyes, his own filled with a burning intensity.

“You won't hurt me” she said softly.

He nods, his heart racing with excitement and concern. “okay, love” He grips her thighs even tighter and starts thrusting at a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing into the night. “Oh, y/n, you feel incredible” He moans, his eyes never breaking the inten eye contact.

Y/n trailed her hands done his back frantically, looking for somthing to hold onto to and ground herself. He growls at the feeling of her hand gripping his ass, his hips snapping with increased speed. “You're going to make me lose control” He warns, his voice deep and husky. “And I can't have that, darling.Not yet”

“W-why not?” she asked softly.

Benedict panting heavily, trying to regulate his breath. “Because when I lose control, I don't hold back.And I'm not sure you're ready for that, y/n” He said with a serious expression, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and desire.

Y/n grabed his face, cupping both sides of his jaw. She looked into his eyes wirh nothing but love and trust. “it's okay, we're okay to go harder”

He looks back at her, he stutters, unable to find words. His hips snap into hers again, causing him to lose his train of thought. He groans as his grip tightens on her thighs, making her head fall back in pleasure. She moaned his name like a prayer.

Benedict buries his face in her neck, his teeth marking her skin as he speaks against you. “y/n” He chants her name like a mantra, his love for her overwhelming him. “Fuck... You're everything to me” He whispers, his voice breaking with emotion.

“I love you” she moans, her teeth piercing his skin.

He lets out a groan, his body shaking with the effort of holding back. “I love you too, y/n. More than anything” He wraps his arms around her body tightly, holding her as he continues to thrust.

then that close, tight feeling in y/n's stomach hit her again and it was stronger than last time. She moaned his name, gripping his hair “I think…” she shuttered.

Benedict's eyes rolling back as he groans low in his throat. “Fuck, yes!” He thrusts harder now, chasing his own release. “I'm close, y/n” He pants, sweat dripping from his brow.

“I'm so close, Benny” as soon as those words fell from her lips the knot in her stomach snapped. She threw her head back moaning, her orgasm infecting her sences.

“y/n!” He roars, feeling your tight walls clenching around him. The feeling of her coming around him is too much for him to handle, his own orgasm hitting him like a freight train. “w-where do you want me to come?” he aksed quickly.

Y/n’s heart was pounding against her chest, her orgasm still hitting her like a freight train. “I... I don't know” she said breathlessly, digging her nails into his back.

He groans. The feeling of her nails on his back causing him to thrust harder into her. “Fuck, Love” He takes a deep breath, his body feeling like it's on fire. “It's okay, I'll... I'll pull out, Darling”

He pulls out, causing y/n to moan as every inch of him slipped out of her soaking folds. He groans, coating her stomach in his cum as he holds himself up. He panted heavily. “y/n, fuck” He looks down at her, his eyes filled with love and adoration. “I need you to look at me, Darling” He gently tilts her head up to meet his gaze.

Benedict smiles, his thumb gently tracing her jawline. “You're so beautiful, Love” He leans down to press a soft kiss to her lips before pulling back. “I love you. So much”

“I love you too” y/n says softly, making his heart fill with joy at your words. “I'm going to clean you up. You're all sticky. Okay?”

Benedict reaches over her, grabbing his shirt. “hold on, Darling” He gently cleans up the mess on her stomach before wiping between your legs. “when we get inside I'll run you a bath”

Y/n moaned softly as he cleaned between her thighs, the noise making Benedict glance up. His throat tightened at the sight of your beautiful, cum-covered body. “Are you okay? I didn't hurt you did I?”

“N-no. It felt amazing, ” she said softly, her eyes fluttering. “what we did” she whispered.

He glances up at y/n, his heart swelling with love for her. Benedict watches the blush spread across her cheeks. “You have no idea how much you mean to me” He leans in to place a gentle kiss to her lips before pulling away.

“let's get you inside” he gently picked her up bridal style, making sure the quilt is covering her exposed body. Benedict held her safe and close as he carried up to the house. He was cautious as he carried her to his room in case of anyone who might be awake in the late hours of the night.

[unholybacon355]

Kinktober Day 7 - Jang Wonyoung x M! Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

“Make me.” She said before running away from you with a big smile on her face. 

These days are the ones that demand more of your patience at work. Because during these kinds of days you feel more like you're babysitting the most spoiled idol ever, than just doing your job as her personal bodyguard.

“Get here and eat your breakfast.” You pointed to the little table in front of you, with a whole meal served as the breakfast for your client. “We can't be late for this appointment, and I'm not letting you go with your stomach empty.” All the answer you got was a giggle and the sound of her barefoot steps running away. “Don’t make me go for you.”

“Come and make me eat, but I’m hungry for a different thing.” Knowing exactly what she wants you rolls your eyes. There is no way you can give her what she wants and still have time to make her eat the damn breakfast. But also you know she's getting what she wants, she always does.

The hotel room was huge, and that is being humble with the description. Because this was more like a small apartment than a hotel room. Have its own mini kitchen and living room separated for the actual room with the bed, not to mention a fully equipped bathroom with a bathtub inside. But no matter how big it was you still crossed very quickly the distance from the kitchen to the bedroom, where Wonyoung was trying to hide. When she saw you coming she ran again but you were faster and grabbed her by her wrist pulling her on a hug.

Wonyoung was smiling between your arms, with her precious features full of joy. Of course she was enjoying this, she always does. That's why she still keeps you around. You were at least twenty years older than her, with a failed marriage but an impeccable career (Maybe that’s why your marriage failed after all), and still in pretty good shape for someone your age. You could be her dad, but instead Wonyoung prefers to call you Daddy. You really don't care about that.

She already offered to pay you extra for this little other service but you couldn’t accept it. How could you when that other job consists in fuck one of the most beautifull and desired womans in the entire world. It is true, this looks like you were taking advantage of her, but to be honest who was the big celebrity and who was just a random bodyguard? You both knew perfectly well who was in charge here, but for the good of this game you make it look like you are the one in charge.

“Are you here to give me my breakfast?” She asked, biting her lower lip and hugging you back.

“Yes, but I'm going to do it on my own terms.” You grab her tiny butt, only covered by a white pantie made by the brand she was an ambassador for, squeezing her delicious buttocks. Your other hand travels under her loose shirt (Also made by the same brand) to her perky little tiddies. When you make one of her nipples roll under your fingers. That action grants you a small moan from her. “Now get out of your clothes and put in all four over the bed. And don't say… Oh forget it! I know you're gonna say “Make me”.”

In fact she was about to say that but you leave no time to Wonyoung to speak before you grab her by the waist and you gently throw her on the bed. Even faster you take off her clothes, the last thing you need now was her panties being dirty, and put her over her stomach. 

“I like when Daddy is rude to me. That makes my pussy throb.” A demonstration of that was her putting in all four for you. putting her ass up in the hair and causing her cheeks to spread a little letting you see her wrinkle back entrance and her perfectly shaved pussy lips.

Your hands travel once again to her buttocks squeezing and spreading, giving you more access to her little anus. Where your tongue began to draw circles letting your saliva all over the place.

“AAggnnhg Daddy! I want you on my pussy. Has been so long since the last time you fucked me.”  

“This is what you are receiving for not eating breakfast.” Now your tongue began to attack her butthole more violently, till the point to even penetrate a little bit sometimes. You were leaving her ass shiny with all your saliva over there, while still massaging her buttocks. 

“Daddy my pussy pls.” But you deliberately left her most needy part unattended. Sometimes you need to give her some lessons, not always can be a win for her. And now as she was begging for you to fuck her pretty pussy you were about to stuff your meat up her ass. 

You open your zipper and take out your already hard dick, that was all the naked you needed to be in this situation because you weren’t making love, this was just sex. You spit on her already wet butthole and instead your shaft is your index fix what comes through her wrinkle entrance, eliciting moans from Wonyoung. She enjoys it but still isn't what she wants.

“Not there Daddy. On my pussy, please. I’m already wet for you.” But again you don't pay attention to her words and now is the tip of your hard cock that is threatening to penetrate her ass. She moans, you moan, your hard dick pushes her rear entrance and little by little she's losing it. Inch by inch your dick goes inside her rectum. The sensation is incredible, wonderful, something really life changing. 

Her ass is even tighter than her pussy, allowing you to feel everything when your dick comes in and comes out of her little body. Her muscle ring is threatening to never letting your glans to abandon her rectum cavity. You're trapped inside her ass, and in some way this is a punishment to her. Even when Wonyoung’s moans tell you she’s really enjoying this experience.

And you do too, because take too little effort to her tight asshole to make your balls ache in anticipation. You wanna hold it, you wan´t to keep fucking Jang Wongyoung in her ass. You wanna keep making her cry of pleasure even when she says she wants you in her pussy instead of her ass. But you also know that there is just a small window of time when you can fuck her freely. If you do it longer someone could come looking for Wonyoung, and no one needs a sex scandal right now. 

So you touch her clit, you massage her perfect and silky fold. Then you put two fingers inside her, fucking her pretty pussy with your hand. Hitting in every trust her clit with your palm. “That’s what you asked for. Daddy is fuckking yor little cunt now.” You whisper in his ear, and as if it were a spell casted by you her body tenses immediately. You feel how her pussy squeezes your fingers and how the walls of her rectum are practically clenching your hard dick. And that makes you hit your orgasm too. 

Now the both of you are cumming at the same time. She is shaking and being over-stimulated for the sensation of being double penetrated by you. And you having your milk almost ripped off your body by the contractions of her ass. She’s practically milking you, so you allow yourself to groan out of pure pleasure while the last drops of your seed leave your body.

You take your dick out of her body and leave her free. Wonyoungs falls again over the bed laying on her stomach with her legs open. A smile forms on your lips because you can see how her butthole is still a little bit open, with your milk dripping out. You’re sure she learned the lesson this time, but you still can teach her something more.”

“Here, put your pretty mouth to work and clean it.” You say standing in front of her pointing your dick to her face.

“Yes Daddy.” She says before opening her mouth waiting for you to put your shaft inside of her again. 

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Idk who i want this ask for other than Firefly, but an S/O who’s such a light weight that basically one sip of alcohol gets them spouting about how much they love their girlfriend.

(H:SR/Genshin Impact) Firefly, Arlecchino, Rosaria, Chiori, Xinyan, Clorinde and Dehya with a drunk S/O being overly affectionate

I don't even need to be drunk to do that for Firefly

Firefly lets out a sound that could be interpreted as a squeak, laugh, or cry of embarrassment. The answer was probably a mixture of all three.

Firefly wasn't that easily affected by alcohol due to her genetic engineering, but she wanted to tag along with S/O just to spend time. She swore they just tasted the drink before they started loudly exclaiming how adorable she was.

Sure enough, one glance over to their glass and it was still completely full, making her pout.

(Firefly) "S-S/O! Please lower your voice! It's a little embarrassing hearing all that out loud-"

(S/O) "But how else is everyone going to know what a cutie you are? That face right now is sooooo pretty...Wait, you're right, it only belongs to ME!-"

Firefly lets out a quiet sigh. At least she couldn't argue that S/O didn't love her so much.

(S/O) "Even when you wear your armor, you're my Firefly, not SA-"

Firefly's hand instantly moves to S/O's mouth, covering it before they could continue, eyes rapidly darting left and right.

(Firefly) "Okay, we're going home!"

The bar watches as this tiny woman manages to lift S/O over her shoulders with zero issue out the door.

Arlecchino watches with silent amusement as she hears what's so great about herself.

Would Arlecchino use any of the terms S/O was shouting out into the room to describe herself? Archons, no.

But...it was endearing to hear S/O think so highly of her.

Tracing the edge of her glass with one finger, Arlecchino hums as she sips her wine.

(Arlecchino) "Would you tell anyone else of how you felt about your 'lovely' girlfriend?"

(S/O) hic! "To the world, I'll shout about her on the top of the city!"

Slowly, her eyes trailed down to their glass. They haven't even got it to halfway.

(Arlecchino) "How entertaining..."

(S/O) "H-hey...! Are you making fun of my affection for my Arle!? DO YOU WANNA FIGHT?!"

With an eyebrow raised, she turns back to S/O.

(Arlecchino) "You are aware of who you're speaking to, correct?"

(S/O) "Some punk who's making fun of my girlfriend! I don't care that you look like her, I won't let you insult her!"

(Arlecchino) "...Maybe we should pour you a less alcoholic beverage next time."

(Rosaria) "Oh good gods no."

Sure Dandelion Wine was strong, but it couldn't be strong enough to knock S/O flat on their ass like this, right?

(S/O) "Your eyes are so pretty too...the way they look like you want to-"

(Rosaria) "Okay, I get it, thank you. Don't finish that."

As annoying as their volume was, especially considering people were giving her and S/O looks, this was pretty damn funny.

And also sweet, she had no idea they had this much love stored for her.

Part of her feels bad, she hadn't even done that much to deserve such praise.

Rosaria just chuckles and reaches out a hand to rustle their hair, which they hum at the cute gesture.

(S/O) "See?! Just like that, you're such a darling!"

(Rosaria) "Not the word I'd use, but sure."

(S/O) "I can use a hundred different words to-"

(Rosaria) "Do not."

(Chiori) "Ew."

Chiori would not use any of these terms to describe herself, much less anyone else.

To have S/O use pet names like "sweetie-pie" or "honey-bunches" was having her internally cringe to the point she might die.

(S/O) "Hey, don't you say ew about my girlfriend!" hic! "I-I'LL KICK YOUR ASS!"

Now that got Chiori to laugh, one hand rushing to her mouth as she fails to contain her own volume.

(Chiori) "You'd kick your girlfriend's ass, S/O?"

(S/O) "Huh...? NO! I LOVE HER, I WOULD NEVER LAY A HAND ON HER!"

(Chiori) "Then check who you're talking to."

(S/O) "No, this is some mindgame! She'd just tell me that it was her and not play around! She's too honest!"

Well, at least they were right about that part.

Next time she should pour them a shot glass of sake, if one sip from not even a full cup was enough to get them riled up like this, Chiori wouldn't have wasted so much.

(Xinyan) "K-Keep your voice down, yer gettin' rowdier than my guitar!"

(S/O) "Yeah, and you're SOOOO hot with the guitar too! You shreds it and...and...shreds it!-"

(Xinyan) "For the love of...!-"

Xinyan gets extremely flustered with S/O screaming about how lovely of a woman she is.

Which would be great, if half the Harbor couldn't hear them at this very moment.

She wants to hide away to avoid all the stares, but at the same time Xinyan wants to give S/O the best kiss she can.

She was always so insecure about herself, but to hear S/O's unfiltered love for her was something she could never have prepared for.

...Probably because they were shouting it, but regardless, it was enough to get her to tear up from love and embarrassment!

(Xinyan) "S-Sshhh! I'm beggin' ya, S/O! Tell me how much ya love me when ya ain't so loud!"

(S/O) "You want me to whisper my love for you?"

(Xinyan) "Yea-"

Xinyan then thought about that sentence for a few seconds.

(Xinyan) "...N-NO!"

She honestly forgets about the drinks in their hands, being too preoccupied with S/O.

Clorinde flushes red, and not because of the alcohol.

Thank Archons they drank at home and away from the media vultures, because the things they were doing was mortifying.

To both her, and themselves.

(Clorinde) "...D-Dear, that's enough drinking."

They were nuzzled into her chest, noises of approval coming out as they cuddled closer.

She had to stop their hand reaching for the drink, or more accurately, stop it from spilling over.

(S/O) "You're really strong, you know that?"

Clorinde lets out a quiet chuckle, rubbing their hair.

(Clorinde) "I have been told on occasion that my skills are-"

(S/O) "And you're so pretty...! And smell nice...!"

(Clorinde) "...That, less so."

(S/O) "Your chest is super big too...and pretty...!"

(Clorinde) "...I wish I have heard that one less."

Alright, romantic mood over. She moves them off her, though their whine almost made her rescind her actions.

But they needed to sleep. Or at least get ready for the worst hangover from a single sip.

Dehya is laughing in both disbelief and from second-hand embarassment.

As shy as she was getting from the heartfelt compliments, it was more the fact S/O was shouting so loud the other mercs could hear them and began laughing that made her feel antsy.

They would never never live this down, especially because they drank a couple sips from the wine they bought.

But damn if this wasn't funny/cute.

(Dehya) "Hm...what else do you love about me S/O? I'm open to hear them.~" And so is the rest of the camp, apparently.

(S/O) "You're so tough and kickass and..." hic "And super cute!"

(Dehya) "Cute? Not hot?"

(S/O) "Nah! The way you're so happy applying...the...the makeup thingy, its really cute!"

Now she was the one getting silent, and all red in the face.

(Dehya) "I-Is that right? Dunno if I should be happy or angry about that."

People complimented her physical attributes, perhaps a little too much, but this was the first time it was flat out ignored.

Especially since this was S/O speaking from the heart.

[nakylvr]

— (NOT SO) MERRY CHRISTMAS

sophia laforteza x fem!reader

summary: after seeing sophia for some time now, you thought it'd be good to surprise her with a gift for the holidays before she goes back home. only to discover a few things.

warnings/tags: angst, language, established relationship, cheating, not proofread

don't ask how i came up with this cause idk! its short but here 🤲

staring at the neat, prettily made present you had made the day prior, you're not sure why you're hesitating. you're parked in your car in front of sophia's house, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel in the rhythm of the song playing through the car's speakers. maybe because this was the first time you deliberately thought out a gift and tried to do your absolute best to make sure it was perfect. maybe because it was also the first time you were getting a gift for someone you really loved and cared about. with a deep breath, you get out of the car and start making your way to the front door.

as you approach the house, you can faintly hear music playing inside. the familiar christmas music echoing through the walls outside. peeking your head through the window near the door, you can see sophia in the kitchen from afar, making a small smile form on your face. then, as you take another step towards the door, you freeze, the smile instantly fading away.

a girl walks from the other room, going over to sophia and wrapping her arms around her, and then kissing her. your heart drops to your stomach at the scene, your eyes glancing between the door you were two steps away from and the woman you thought was your girlfriend kissing someone else. you can feel your throat closing up, and you don't know what to do.

looking down at the gift in your hands, you can feel tears prickling in your eyes. looking back up, your teary eyes go wide when they meet sophia's through the window. seeing the way her face drops, you hastily set the present down on the porch before going back to your car.

you hear the front door open and slam shut, you hear your name being called, you hear the hurried footsteps from behind you, but it doesn't make you stop. the second you put your hand on the door handle of your car, another hand grabs it and yanks you away from it.

"yn, baby, i can explain," is the first sentence to come from sophia's mouth, making you finally look at her.

"explain what?" your voice cracks. "that-that you're seeing someone else?"

the destroyed look on your face makes it all even worse for sophia who's trying to quickly come up with some sort of reason for it, but failing. "i'm not– it's nothing, i swear!"

"you were just kissing!" you exclaimed, the tears in your eyes nearing the point of falling. "i'm not stupid, sophia! i-i just wanted to give you your gift before you leave a-and it was just a waste! a fucking waste!"

there are tears streaming down your face as you start yelling at sophia, and she's to stunned to speak, not knowing what to do or how to fix this. she tries to reach for your hand, but you instantly pull away and take a step back from her. "yn, please, let me explain," she says, her voice shaky.

"no!" you shake your head furiously. "yo-you never really loved me, did you?"

sophia's eyes go wide at your question, and the way your voice got so quiet that she could barely hear it. her heart breaks at the look on your face along with the tears falling down your cheeks. "i do, of course i do," she responds. "she– that is nothing, i swear. you have to listen to me."

"then why weren't you answering my texts? i told you i was on my way and you never responded. y-you always say that you'll find a way to respond, and yet i texted you multiple times a-and you never answered." you can't even look at her anymore, your hands balled up into fists covering your eyes as the tears pour. "why would you lie to me?"

"i would never lie to you," sophia says, hesitantly reaching her hands out to grab yours. "you have to understand, yn, please."

you pry your hands out of her grip, shaking your head. "there's nothing to understand here. you thought you could sneak around and not get caught. well guess what, sophia? they always get caught." you manage to get out as strongly as you can, unlocking your car and opening the door, getting in and shutting it.

"yn, please just let me explain!" sophia looks at you through the window, her voice raising slightly so you could hear over the music that started playing.

you roll down your window just slightly to speak through it. "enjoy your christmas, sophia," you tell her before rolling it up again, and putting your car in drive to leave.

sophia stares at your car as you drive off and leave her line of sight, tears in her eyes as she glances around. she can suddenly feel the cold air hitting her skin as she falls back into reality of what just happened, wiping the stray tears that had trailed down her cheeks. she stands outside for a while, almost hoping you would come back, but you never do. she slowly walks back up to the porch, reaching down and grabbing the present you brought before walking inside. she doesn't utter a word except "get out" as she walks past the mistake she made, going up to her room with the gift in her hands.

sitting on her bed, she takes the card out from under the ribbon you tied around the box, opening it and seeing your handwriting.

'i thought it might be a good idea to get you something that reminded you of home, so i made this for you. i hope you like it. i love you.' signed with your initials at the bottom.

putting the card down, she slowly undoes the ribbon and peels off the wrapping paper you put so much work into making look pretty. when she opens the box, it reveals a portrait – hand drawn – of the picture originally taken with her family with you and her in the middle when you came with her to visit them last year. she immediately remembers the picture you were referring to, which makes tears quickly form in her eyes again as she stares at it for a long while.

sophia grabs her phone and goes to your contact, her thumb hovering over the call button as she hesitates to press it. after a minute or two, she sighs and turns her phone off, knowing better than to call you when you're so upset. she puts the portrait on her dresser and then sits back down on the bed, looking down at the ground. "fuck."

you end up driving to your friend daniela's place, who immediately brought you inside once she saw the sight of you, taking you up to her bedroom to get away from her family downstairs. you didn't say much except mumble a few words that explain what happened, making the latina's eyes widen when she processes it.

"everything will be okay," daniela tells you, sitting next to you on her bed with your head leaning on her shoulder. "you can stay here for the night."

"are you sure?" you murmur quietly. "i don't want to intrude your family's holidays."

"they love you, you know that they wouldn't mind you being here," she replies, grabbing your hand and rubbing her thumb across your knuckles. "do you want some food? i can bring it up to you."

you meekly shake your head, curling up closer into the latina's side as you mumble a response. "i just want to sit here."

"okay," daniela nods. she glances down at you, seeing the tear stained marks on your cheeks and wondering just how much you cried within the half an hour it happened and you drove over here. "you'll be okay, i promise," she whispers quietly.

a hum leaves your throat in response, closing your eyes as you finally begin to relax. "thank you for being here, dani," you murmur.

"of course. i'll always be here for you, no matter what," daniela replies, hearing your breathing starting to slow to a calm level nearing the edge of sleep. she turns off the lamp lighting the room, leaving you two in the dark as she lays you down on the bed, pulling the blanket over you as you fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. her gaze lingers on you for a moment before she forces herself to look away and up at the ceiling, letting out a short sigh. what a great christmas.

[coco-loco-nut]

Hii!

Can I please ask for an angsty fic with Max, where the reader defends him from Jos after not finishing his race in Melbourne...idk if you remember when Max kept his helmet for four hours after a race because he was afraid of what Jos would have done to him after not winning...and the reader basically tells Jos to get lost even if she's like 5'4 and definitely not as intimidating as them both lol.

And then maybe after the win in Suzuka, they "reconcile" but she still reminds him to act right around her boyfriend, who's now a man and not a little boy he could pressure like he once did.

Sorry if it's too long!! Thanks for taking your time and reading my request!

Guard Dog

Pairing: Max x Reader

Summary: You are sick and tired of watching Max take Jos' shit

TW: verbal abuse

A/n: thank you soooo much for the rec, I love writing these out so much <3

requests open masterlist

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"Maxie... are you okay?" you wait patiently by the door to his driver's room, careful not to barge in like Jos would, as you have for the past year since you first witnessed Jos' beratement of his son. He is sitting on the couch with his helmet between his hands. The fire causing an unpleasant start to the race, and you are just glad you got here first.

"I'm okay," his voice cracks and you step into the room, closing the door behind you. "I know it wasn't my fault, but I can't help but feel like it was my fault," Max looks in your eyes, the fire brewing behind them. You were genuinely the sweetest girl he's ever met, and to get you mad took a lot. God help you if Jos shows up, you are tired of Max feeling bad even when he podiums.

"You're right, you didn't do anything wrong, the car failed you today," you stay calm, sitting beside him and cuddling into him. Max stays quiet, enjoying your warmth, and decompressing from the start. He can understand why the fans were so happy to see him lose, in fact, if he wasn't himself, he would join them. No, the fear of his father is what has him on edge. Rightfully so, because a few seconds later the door is slammed open again.

"Max, what the hell did you-" Jos starts and you launch yourself off the couch. Jos and Max were big guys, and you were average height for a woman, 5'6 or so, but you didn't seem like it in that moment.

"Shut the hell up and leave. You have nothing useful to say and you are going to shift blame to Max who had NO fault in the DNF," you snarl, setting yourself up as a barrier between the two, Jos still in the doorway and Max on the couch.

"Girl, I don't know who you think you are, but I am Max's father, and I can-," You cut Jos off before he can continue.

"No, you aren't his father. A father doesn't talk to his son like that, you are simply a man who shares the same last name as Max. A father is someone like Carlos Sainz Sr or Lawrence Stroll. No, you are a man- sorry a boy in a man's body- who can't cope with the fact that he doesn't race anymore and wants the man who shares the same last name with him to be impossibly perfect and win every single race, even when the car breaks down." You sneer at the man. "You need to leave, before I call security and make them remove you," you don't back down, instead you step closer. Max watches in both awe and fear.

"I-"

"Leave, Jos, now. Don't make me repeat myself," you say, practically slamming the door behind him. You turn around and look at Max, seemingly calm and normal. He looks at you bewildered.

"That was the sexiest thing ever. Thank you, Schatje, you didn't have to do that," Max hugs you, a large weight off of his shoulders.

"Of course I did, who else will be your guard dog?" You smile at him, squeezing him tighter. "Now, get changed and get back to the garage," you tell Max, stepping out to the room. You let out a deep breath, surprised with how you treated Jos and stood up for Max. A couple minutes later, Max rejoins you, quickly stopping inside hospitality for a snack.

The two of you avoid Jos, going extremely low contact, not that he was trying to. Jos would never admit it, but he was embarrassed at how you spoke to him, and his retreat allowed him to ignore it. Instead, you and Max enjoyed your time together in Japan. The both of you were aware Jos was there, but chose to ignore it. After Max won, Jos warily approached the two of you.

"I wanted to congratulate you on winning. You drove well," Jos says stiffly, silently calling for a truce. You let Max take the lead on the conversation.

"Thank you," he says, feeling like a little boy again, but accepting the temporary truce.

"It was good seeing you Jos, but we need to go," you interject, sensing the still tense atmosphere. The older man, still a little scared of you despite your sweet demeanor, lets you go, not quite willing to cross you again.

"Love you, Maxie"

"Love you too, Schatje,"

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Keep hearing people say maribug keep asking adricat if he's ok and he keep saying he's ok instead of telling her his problem but I don't remember it happened more than once in s4 in Rockettear but even then the circumstances of that episode did warrant the "nothing" answer he gave her unless he want to tell her that "nino tell me you let nino and alya know each other identity" which will reveal adricat identity. So when else did she ask? about the thing in hack-san, I think another credit goes to alya since she's the one who bring the topic to maribug who seems to be blissfully unaware that her leaving without telling adeicat that she send subtitute would be a problem.

I didn't get into this side of things in my other post because it was long and I wanted to focus on why Chat Noir's behavior was so frustrating, but this ask brings up the other big reason why the season four conflict was such a frustrating and terribly written plot line. Specifically, the part of your ask where you point out that Maribug seems blissfully unaware that her actions are having a negative impact on Chat Noir until someone points it out to her.

Yes, she is presented as blissfully unaware of this and every other interpersonal conflict we're given in season four. Your ask treats this as a failing on Maribug's part as if she should have obviously realized that she was in the wrong, but that's the whole problem. Telling kids - telling anyone really - that they should just magically know what others need is a frankly terrible life lesson as that's just not how the world works. You cannot just assume that everyone will have the same view of the world as you do and instantly pick up on the same issues as you do. That is the path to easily avoidable frustration and conflict. It also teaches people to assume that their view of the world is inherently correct when that is rarely the case. We often don't know the whole story and the other person's point of view may end up being equally or even more valid. This issue is extremely present in season four as Marinette has legitimate reasons to behave the way she does, which I'll get into in a bit.

If Marinette were written as feeling guilty about how she was treating Chat Noir, then this would be a different story. She'd be way more in the wrong and would shoulder a much greater portion of the blame. But as is? She has no idea that she's doing anything wrong. And until someone takes the time to tell her that her actions are causing harm, she is going to continue causing harm because she has no idea that she's causing harm.

In fact, I'd argue that the Alya thing in Hack San is a point in Maribug's favor. Throughout the episode, we see Marinette sending Alya messages on ways to be a good partner to Chat Noir, proving that she does in fact care about him. And then, as soon as Alya says, "You need to talk to Chat Noir," what does Maribug do?

She goes and talks to Chat Noir, giving him a pretty good apology for the problem she now knows she caused. Because, shockingly, Maribug doesn't actually want to hurt her partner. She also clearly cares about his feelings, making me want to take the season four conflict and tear it into itty bitty pieces because what is the conflict even supposed to be when you write shit like this?

I want to briefly step away from Miraculous and talk about this issue in a broader context via this YouTube short:

This short is from a Vietnamese woman who moved to Germany. Her YouTube channel is about her experiences there, including things like the short above which goes into the differences between what it means to be a dinner guest in Vietnam and what it means to be a dinner guest in Germany. In Vietnam, it's apparently standard for the guests to cook dinner with you where as, in Germany, you're expected to have the meal ready when the guests arrive, making this a situation where it's super easy to come across as rude just by doing what you think is normal.

Society is relatively aware that these types of culture clashes are a thing, but you don't have to be from different cultures to have these types of situations. Every person has their own unique needs and ideas of what "normal" is. The culture they were raised in will affect this, but so will their family, their personal needs, and many other factors. Two people can be raised on the same street and wind up with wildly different world views even though they supposedly share a culture. This is extra true when you add in compounding factors like neurodiversity, which is why it's an exercise in futility to say, "But Maribug should have realized..."

Well, she clearly didn't. And you can't change that she didn't realize whatever you're mad about. All you can do is have someone tell her what she's doing wrong. If she then continues the behavior, go ahead and judge away. But if she immediately corrects it like she did in Hack San? Doesn't that just prove that she truly didn't know that Chat Noir was hurting and would have probably fixed all of his problems if someone just pointed them out to her?

This is only exacerbated by the fact that Marinette's behavior in season four is largely unchanged from her behavior in previous seasons. The only major change is that she revealed her identity to Alya, but as soon as that's pointed out as a problem, she course corrects with an apology. After that, she thinks that everything is okay because why wouldn't she? Chat Noir said it was fine and everything else has been business as usual.

Bringing temp heroes into help as needed? That's been going on since season two. Having these additional members has been vital in multiple battles and there have been plenty of times where Chat Noir took a background role to the temp hero of the day like in Sapotis, Rena Rouge's season two debut. So why would Maribug suddenly think that this dynamic is a problem when it's been working fine for so long? We even had a whole episode about how Chat Noir was still needed in spite of the new heroes back in season three! Or, at least, I think that was Desperada's message? This show is shockingly bad at giving clear lessons.

Keeping guardian knowledge from Chat Noir? That's also been going on since season two and was even treated as a conflict that supposedly got resolved in the episode Syren which was the episode that ended with Master Fu coming to the mansion to talk to Adrien after everything was over.

When I watched that episode, I assumed this meant that Chat Noir was going to be more involved in things like picking the temp heroes. I actually thought this was how we were going to get Queen Bee because I knew she was going to be a thing, but it made no sense for Marinette to pick Chloe for a miraculous. Of course, I was wrong. Nothing changed after Syren. Chat Noir remained nothing more than the comic relief while Ladybug got all the insider info.

To be clear, I think that was a terrible move writing wise, but it doesn't change the fact that this is what they went with. This is the established dynamic. I can't even say that Alya learning Marinette's secret led to something new. She's just taken Marinette's old role while Marinette has taken on Master Fu's old role. This show loves it's status quo and Chat Noir has been at least tolerant of that status quo since Syren, so it's not surprising that Maribug doesn't register that this is a thing that should change and no one bothers to point it out to her even though she has a mentor in Tikki (and Su Han, I guess?) and a confidant in Alya and a whole slew of Kwamis who could also provide insight if they were allowed to do that sort of thing. (Sass and Wayzz were robbed of mentor roles.) Additional blame goes to Plagg because he should absolutely have told Adrien to talk to Ladybug. What is the point of giving these characters mentors who never mentor? It's aggravating in the extreme.

To circle back to the first part of your ask, outside of Hack San and Rocketear, I don't think there are any times when Ladybug invites feedback from Chat Noir unless you want to give credit to the end of Kuro Neko:

Cat Noir: (lands next to her) I've been a really temperamental kitty, m'lady. I didn't realize how much trouble I'd make for you by giving back my Miraculous. Ladybug: (sits closer to him) Just because I don't need you all the time doesn't mean that I don't need you at all, Cat Noir. No one could ever replace you.

Which isn't Maribug inviting him to tell her what's up, but she is clearly willing to listen to him and reassure him, further backing up my point about this conflict being some of the worst writing I've ever had to suffer through. If Maribug always fixes the issue as soon as she learns about it, you are not writing a situation where she's clearly in the wrong. You are writing an easily solved communication issue where she gets blamed for something she clearly doesn't realize she's doing wrong and it is so frustrating!!! I feel so bad for her. The next episode is Penalteam, btw, which starts the battle with this gem:

Ladybug: (laughs) Nice scare tactics, but it's not gonna work. Cat Noir and I are the best at soccer! Cat Noir: (Whispers to Ladybug) I don't know a thing about soccer M'lady. Maybe it's time to call the real team?

And basically just spends the whole episode making Chat Noir seems like a worthless partner while Maribug tries her best to make him - and everyone else - feel special.

Oh, and the episode before Kuro Neko? Well, it's technically Ephemeral, but that got magically overwritten so let's go one further back and we get to Dearest Family, which ends with this:

Cat Noir: (grabs a golden paper crown on the coffee table) Since I'm the king, (wears the crown on his head) would you be my queen, Ladybug? Ladybug: With pleasure, kitty cat! Tradition is tradition!

Oh yes, these two are in such conflict and Maribug does nothing to validate Chat Noir. He's in pain every episode and she's just totally oblivious to it.

If that was what they wrote, then I'd probably agree that we needed more instances of her asking if Chat Noir was okay. But it's not what they wrote. If you look through the list of season four episodes, you'll find that less than half of them deal with the supposed conflict of the season (by my count, only 8 of the 24 episodes before the final actually showcase the conflict and they are not in a logical order in terms of escalation as I tried to demonstrate above). The rest of the episodes flat out ignore it or even straight up work against the conflict like when Ladybug says this to Chat Noir in Guilttrip: "I probably don't tell you this enough, but I couldn't do this without you. And it'd be a lot less fun too."

Seriously, what even is this season? What is the conflict supposed to be? Because it sure as shit isn't Maribug undervaluing Chat Noir, if memory servers, season four sees her validate him more times than any other season. And it isn't her guiltily hiding things from him like so many fanfics claim because we have multiple points of evidence that prove that she's completely oblivious that there even is a conflict. So what conflict are the writers actually trying to write?

What's even more baffling is that none of this logically leads to the loss at the end of the season:

Maribug's new secrets didn't lead to her downfall. The only reason she lost was because of the secret that's always been there - a fact that's never revealed to her - and a freaking evil twin! So why did it matter that Maribug was keeping secrets? This is made even worse by season five maintaining all of the secrets, once again begging the question of what lesson were we trying to teach here???

Chat Noir wasn't needed for the final fight of the season, Maribug only needed the powers of a few of the temp heroes to win, a baffling ending to a season whose focus was Chat Noir feeling unimportant. You could scrap that conflict entirely and the ending would not change. In fact....

Adrien quitting to be nothing more than a good little boy who obeys his father would have actually saved the world from eventually being rewritten. If you think about it, the season four final actually punishes Adrien for being defiant. So does season five as, if Chat Noir had quit, his father would still be alive. I thought this show was supposed to be a romcom, not a tragedy. Why is Adrien being punished for being a hero? Is this supposed to be karma for lying to Ladybug with the whole Catwalker thing?

This shit is why I say I'm a writing salt, character sugar blog. I can't get mad at the characters when they're in such a nonsense story where things never logically tie together. They all deserve so much better.

None of this is meant to imply that ignorance is a blanket excuse for hurting others. Nor is it meant to imply that you have to forgive someone who hurt you just because they didn't mean to. There's a ton of nuance around these topics. But season four acknowledges none of that nuance while creating a situation that desperately needed nuance because there was no clear right and wrong here. Should Maribug work to be more aware of others feelings? Sure, but that journey can only start after she's made aware of her faults and no one ever points them out to her. Does Chat Noir need to work on clearly communicating his needs? Desperately, but no one is teaching him that lesson so he remains a terrible communicator who suffers in silence. What impressively bad writing.

[two-white-butterflies]

when he goes down on me

Description: A struggling accounting student meets a successful lawyer. A relationship blossoms. With a few social media excerpts.

Pairing: thranduil/reader

Warnings: age-gap

There was a saying around the school - only the accountings get the accountings. While all the students from the other majors were out partying and dancing until their heels hurt from jumping, the accountings were stuck memorizing business terms and calculating debits and credits until their fingers hurt from routinely tapping their calculators. It was a figurative hell on earth.

And you have always been fond of burning.

It was seldom to see you attend a party, but miraculously your schedule cleared up and there weren't any quizzes or lectures in the vicinity. "Are you already missing the comforts of Harvard?" your father teases and you crack a smile. "God, don't remind me of studying." You groaned while slumping on the leather couch.

You've almost forgotten about the comforts of your childhood home after being surrounded by flashing white lights and empty cans of redbull, comfort wasn't exactly in your vocabulary. "I'm just saying; you ditched school to attend the neighborhood gathering and you are cooped up in this humid living room, avoiding everyone who wants to talk to you." He emphasizes, encouraging you to come out.

"Please, those people saw me grow up. I hardly think that I'm missing out." You reasoned, returning your attention back to your cellphone. "- all they ever talk about is me getting married, or at least having a boyfriend." You added while scrolling past a TikTok video about some random guy bashing Crumbl cookies.

The people in your parent's close circle were typical upper-echelon folks whose only means of communicating with some 20+ year old is asking them about marriage. Of course, your usual reply would be that you are not seeing anyone and they'd blink at you like fucking reptiles. They can't fathom the idea that a young, intelligent and relatively good-looking (not ugly) woman still didn't have a husband.

It did make you happy that they found you interesting enough to have a husband but it was infuriating that being married was the only thing they cared about you. They belonged to a different time, you tell yourself before your mind drifts back into TikTok.

"We have a new neighbor, he's a good fellow but he's a little too young for our crowd. I don't think that he's old enough to relate to Geert's Hoover Deluxe jokes. You should talk to him, you've always had magic with your words." He encourages, and a sigh escapes your mouth. "Dad, I'm not talking to one of your golf buddies." You groaned. Maybe it was a mistake coming here.

You still needed to study for the licensure test, that test was something that you could not fail. It was the first step to your CPA to Lawyer plot-line, if you are unable to handle the pressure of the licensure exam then maybe you aren't equipped with Law School. Then, maybe you should just drop out and become a stay-at-home daughter like your other friend, Magnolia.

"He's a lawyer. He handled that case that you were fixated on, the one with the ballerina and her father. Of course, he defended the ballerina." He did his best to remember your teenage ramblings about Oonagh, the ballerina, and her treacherous ex-husband, Gilbert. "What?" You pry your attention away from your mobile phone. Johnson v Johnson was the court case that began your fascination with law, and the guy who defended Oonagh Johnson was in the same house as you! Goddamn.

Thranduil wanted to let the ground consume him whole. He's spent a lot of time with businessmen and world-leaders alike but BBQ with his neighbors was a different type of embarrassment. He couldn't relate to them in matters of American life or farming, and he honestly doesn't know enough about the outsourcing industry to make a decent connection with these folks.

Of course, he could relate to their wives about perfume, but he doesn't want to be that cunt who talks to random people's wives. He seriously wanted to go home, but then he sees a figure in his periphery. A woman with amazing hair, walking towards him and suddenly everything was happening in slow motion.

She takes a step, her hair moves along with her, the wind is her willing assistant and her lips turned upwards. A smile. Is she looking at me? He tries to hide the fact that he was looking over his shoulder. Maybe she's looking at someone behind me? He thinks, but then again, there was no one standing beside him, save the rose bush.

"Hey," you greet him and suddenly he finds himself leaning back into his true self. The confident defense attorney who charms everyone that he speaks to. "Hey?" He raises an eyebrow, as if he's teasing you. "My dad told me that you were the one who defended Oonagh Johnson back in 2012." You opened your mouth to speak.

Always straightforward. Time is gold.

"Yes, it was a terrible thing what happened to her." He breaths. The case seemingly close to his heart just like this case was to you. "I know that it sounds a little creepy but that is my favorite case in the history of the world. I was thirteen years old-" you rambled and he releases a breath that he was unaware that he was holding.

Thirteen years old in 2012. I feel so old. He muses.

"- I didn't know what I wanted to be, and then I saw you and Oonagh on the news. I knew then that I wanted to be in the same spot as you, defending women, minorities, children. I knew then that I wanted to give what was due. Justice." You finished rambling, he notices that smile on your face.

It reminded him of himself back in his rookie days, that hopeless glimmer in your eyes mirroring back to all the years before him. Some dreams remain dreams, and others turn into goals. "Well, that case is close to my heart. I don't think I've ever told anyone about this before but my mother was a victim of domestic abuse, her father was not a good man, and when I defended Oonagh, I felt some sort of retribution..." He pauses. I shouldn't tell this to a stranger.

"It is a different kind of power that you feel when you do something right. Yes, it is every citizen's right to defend themselves in the court of law whether or not they are guilty or innocent, but I think that you'll realize this when you do become a lawyer. It feels like a breath of relief when you bring true justice to the innocents." He continues. A feeling that feels so far from me now.

"Yeah, I don't know how I'll deal with choosing cases when I'm an actual lawyer but my dad says that I don't have to think about that until after I actually pass the bar." You chuckled nervously. He pries his attention away from his current woes, "Oh, are you studying law right now?" He inquired, his body leaning closer to yours.

"Oh no, I'm studying Accounting right now. It's my pre-law course." You informed, and he slowly finds himself respecting you. "I wish that I did something cool like that, my pre-law was Polsci and I wouldn't recommend it even to my worst enemy." He chuckles, his conscience floating away and instead is focused on you.

The shining starlight that has come to guide him away from this existential crisis. "I've heard a lot of things about that major. Some people say that it doesn't really equip you in law school, but the Polsci majors that I know are such cool people." You smiled, only beginning to realize that the man standing in front of you was h o t.

Hot with a capital 'H'.

He had a cleanly shaven face, and beautiful golden blonde hair that seriously rivaled those of the Targaryens that you watch on HBO. (You are still stuck in Season 5 of GOT due to being on studying jail.)

"That major did not help me in law school. It gave me an overview but law school is ultimately a different demon." He warns, staring deep into your eyes. She looks good, he thinks. "Well, hopefully if I pass next year I'll be able to apply for law school. Are there any universities that you recommend?" You ask and he ponders.

"I finished my degree in Harvard-"

"Fuck," you interrupted him. "No, I'm sorry." You gasp.

"I study in Harvard right now. It's just I found it - I don't know." You mentally cringe, accepting the fact that you've let go of your chance with dating this hot lawyer man. "It's alright, I was gonna say to not study in Harvard. Stanford is much better. I've found really formidable opponents who finished their degree in Stanford." He smiles, finding your quirks to be adorable.

It is not everyday that a woman walks into his life and talks about his best case to date, and then laugh about stupid stupid things. "The food isn't really that great to be honest," you mumbled. "Some things never change." He mused. "Oh wait, I'm sorry. I haven't introduced myself. I'm Y/N Saint." You offer your hand to shake and he takes it.

"Thranduil Greenwood." He smiles while shaking your hand. He lets go of it, and then remembers. "Daniel's your father?" He asks. "Yeah, but he's not really my biological father, he adopted me when he married my mom." You provided a bit of a background information.

He tries to make the conversation longer, in the hopes that you wouldn't walk away from him or that you'd leave at least an email or a number or a facebook profile so that he'll have some way of communicating with you. "He's a nice guy." He compliments.

"He's more than nice," you smile.

Suddenly, your phone rings. "Oh damn, sorry. I really have to catch a plane, but it was so nice talking to you attorney. Um, do you have a phone or anything. I'd love to keep in touch." You turn the alarm off, and focus your attention back to him. He unlocks his iphone and hands it to you. You glance at his wallpaper. "It's my son." he answers, not bothering to hide that fact about him.

"You have a wife?" You tired to keep your tone nonchalant, but it comes out jealous and icky. "No, his mother left when he was born. Funny enough, I couldn't blame her anyways. I was twenty, she was nineteen and she had an art degree." He jests and you try your best to find an instagram app on his phone.

How old is this man anyways? All he had on his phone was whatsapp, imessage, a few apps that were there when you buy the phone, and then two different email apps (email for apple and gmail.) Which made you want to laugh at him, as it was adorable, but you decide to open his notes app. "I don't have any social media except for instagram so I'll just write my username down and hopefully you do have an Instagram at home." Your voice turns nervous at the end.

There was a 50/50 chance that Thranduil had an instagram. "Goodbye, it was nice talking to you." You greet, handing him his phone, but before he could reply - you sprint away.

yournamesaint: mornings like these...

liked by 891 others

>comments

ingridhorstefe: the type of thing u see before going to bed - yournamesaint: chug redbull and the bed becomes a theory - ingridhorstefe: id reply something smart abt management theory but my brain is fcking fried

"Thank you for helping me set up an Instagram account, Tauriel." Thranduil thanks his intern before taking a sip of his coffee. "I don't think that you should post anything for legal reasons, but I already fixed your profile and privated your account. I also told everyone in the firm to follow you, Legolas says he'll only follow you after you get 10 followers so everyone won't think that he's following a bot." Tauriel continues, and Thranduil has no idea what those words mean.

"It is about time that I enter the realm social media. I mean, it is one thing to not have social media but Atty. Elros has an instagram and he's literally fifty something." Thranduil jokes. "I did tell you to sign up, which reminds me, you should follow Atty. Alfred." Tauriel presses the 'follow' button on his screen.

"As much as I hate Atty. Elros he has an amazing feed." He jokes again, and Tauriel nods agreeing with him. "He's actually an excellent photographer, I've heard a story about him actually. I heard that he wanted to be a photographer at first but then had a change of heart because his twin brother became a neurosurgeon..." Tauriel informs.

greenwoodlaw_ has requested to follow you

yournamesaint wants to call you.

"Hello," he greets seeing your face on the other end of the line. "Hey, I'm surprised to see you with an instagram. I mean I'm not stalking you or anything, it just says 'new' on your profile." You found yourself explaining to him, and he responds with a laugh. "Tauriel, my staff, helped me make this account. I figured that it was about time that I make one, I mean even the old lawyers in the neighboring firm have their own social medias." His big eyebrows merged together.

"I was about to give you my phone number yesterday but I remembered that I didn't have a line. I wouldn't be able to call you or reply to the text messages." You reply uneasily. Your father has pestered you about getting a line since the moment you bought your phone, but you shook him off saying that no one texts or calls people in their mobile number anymore. You were wrong.

"I didn't really bother paying for that since it's a distraction." You settle your phone on the desk in front of you, not bothering to adjust it to an angle that'll make you look better. There is no use fighting against what you really look like. "I understand. Shouldn't you be studying?" He asks and you shake your head.

"I'm free, miraculously, but I'll start on some reviewers in an hour. Better safe than sorry." You inform.

"You must always be on your feet." He says.

"You sound a lot like my professor." You teased. "- but thank you for the advise, I shall use it well." You add.

Tauriel walks inside of his office, carrying a stack of files. "Oh, it looks like you've got a lot of work to do." You smile. Tauriel raises an eyebrow but he gives her a glance telling her not to ask any questions. "I guess this is goodbye. I'll call you again tomorrow."

"Goodbye,"

"Bye."

[sw3etnena]

Till death do us part

Summary: Votes are just words when a betrayal is discovered.

Warnings: Angst, physical aggression, torture, false betrayal, Pregnancy.

Author's notes: Let's start with an important fact, English is not my first language, if there is any spelling mistake, blame the translator! Second fact: Votes and reposts are appreciated, so please do this charity. And third fact: I know them, seriously, but I ended up running out of ideas for scenarios, so I got inspired by the Russians (since they have a history)

☆"I, Y/N/S, take thee, Simon Riley, to be my lawfully

wedded husband."☆

Ghost Husband! Who feels the world fall apart when he opens the yellow folder left on his desk, photos of you, talking and exchanging envelopes with a man he knows very well, after all, he was the one who captured him, a member of the Russian force.

He runs through the corridors, all eyes seem to be on him, but he doesn't care, clutching the envelope in his hands as he runs to the cells, where he knows you would be, where you are.

— Ghost… — Price steps in front of him, his hands holding your shoulders, Ghost can't look at him, his eyes fixed on you, hanging, hurt and almost unconscious.

— Did she betray us? — The question seems to come out bitterly, every piece of Ghost collapses when the captain nods reluctantly.

— Andrey Petrov. He confessed things that only she heard besides us. — He explains, and then Ghost pushes him aside, opening the cell, he sees you raise your head.

— Si… — You try with a broken voice, grunting when he squeezes your cheeks.

— We share the same bed. — He interrupts, you notice his eyes shining with tears. — And yet you betrayed me. YOU BETRAYED US!

You flinch when he shouts, pushing away from you aggressively.

— They lied, I-I. — You stop only to watch him rip open the envelope, throwing the photos at your bruised body. You tremble as you look at the photos, your doctor, the one who examined you two weeks ago, who told you in no uncertain terms that a child was on the way.

Did he lie?

— Simon… — Your voice breaks, suddenly you find the strength to face your husband. — He's my doctor, I was…

— Confidential conversations. — He interrupts again, approaching you again, pointing his finger in your face. — That only you heard, only you, me, and the captain, don't fucking lie to me.

— Simon…

— DON'T CALL ME THAT! — He yells, his hands coming up to hold your hair, you scream in pain. — You're nothing more than a traitor now.

Traitor.

'I swear to love and care for you at all times, and if I fail, it's because I'm dead." Simon says in a low voice, a soft smile on his face as he places the ring on your finger. "I swear to have you as my wife for the rest of my life, at all times, I will love you."

— I am… — You try to say, your voice dies when the door is opened once again, revealing a soldier, your colleague, known as “Wasp”.

— Lieutenant… The captain is calling you. — I’m coming. — And then he lets go of your hair, and slowly lifts your balaclava, collecting saliva and then spitting it on your face, the saliva mixing with your tears.

— I’ve already finished what I had to do. — And as soon as he leaves, you know that your world has ended, every piece of it, slipped through your fingers, so quickly, it all started in the morning, when you appeared in the mess hall, and everyone turned to you, until your captain, and best man at your wedding, punched you in the ribs, you fell to your knees, and then you were dragged to a cell.

— Please… — Your voice is interrupted by the scream that escapes, with the sharp pain of the cut on your arm, and then cheeks, thighs and legs.

— Your little friend asked me to say something. — The woman sighs, turning the bloody knife in her fingers. You frown. — It wasn’t fake. What wasn’t fake?

And then your eyes widen, your heart pounding in your chest.

— Listen, I swear I'm not a traitor. — A strong slap is placed on your face, you bite your cheeks before continuing. — You need to tell Simon that…

— Do you really think we're going to believe anything you say? — She questions, getting closer only to put the knife too close to your neck.

— Then go through my sock drawer. — You beg, tears falling. — If you ever had any respect for me, as a partner, at least tell Simon that. She doesn't answer, she just takes the knife away from your neck, grabs a bucket of ice water, and throws it on your body.

It was at that moment that you knew you were going to die.

☆"I promise to be faithful. "☆

You have no idea what time it is. The cell is dark, and now empty, only the sound of water dripping from your disheveled clothes fills the dirty environment, decorated with your blood and dried tears.

No one visited you besides the woman, but you know there's a soldier at the door, you can see the shadow, they all came to look at you, not for long enough, just telling you how disgusted you made them, Kyle, Price, Ghost, they were all at your wedding, they were all your family.

You decide to stop mourning, there aren't many things in the room, but there is the knife used by the woman who tortured you, under a table a few feet away from you.

With difficulty, you manage to free yourself from the handcuffs, your feet finally falling silently to the dirty floor, you don't care, picking up the knife, also ignoring the pain in your broken thumbs.

Hiding is also easy, you just stay behind the door, until you hear the soldier curse, and then open the door, looking for you, who is quick to attack - even with the pain in your body - You press the knife into his shoulder, he grunts in pain, and then you knock him down, piercing just below his ribs, a clean cut, without any damaged area, you were not a monster like them.

You grab the man's boots that are easily too big for your feet, but it doesn't matter, not when you run silently through the corridors, ignoring the silent pains in your body.

Dodging the awake soldiers is easier than it seems, ducking and sneaking, but unfortunately, the emergency button is soon activated, while you hide behind a column, everyone runs in the opposite direction, and you smile mentally, stumbling until you reach the outside, and then into the forests.

During the night, which you discover is cold, you hold your slightly larger belly, it's a search for comfort, and you can't help but pray that he's okay.

You don't know how long you've been walking, but at some point, your still wet body feels heavy, and you find yourself forced to lean against a tree, sliding until you fall on top of the leaves, you sigh, your eyes closing. I'm not going to die.

☆"love you and respect you ."☆

— WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?! — Ghost screams as he pushes the door, the squad stares at him, clearing their throats.

— She injured one of ours, and then ran away. — Price explains. — All we know is that she ran into the forest.

— She would have to walk more than ten kilometers to find any sign of life. — Ghost grumbles, rubbing his forehead in irritation.

— She must have someone waiting for her. — Kyle suggests.

— And wouldn't they come for Andrey? — Ghost interrupts.

— Y/N could be the real piece, Andrey is probably a pawn. — Kyle explains, crossing his arms.

— He got caught and then he ratted her out, we just need to know how she got someone to come looking for her.

— That doesn't matter now. — Price says, walking around the room. — We need to know what she knew, and how much they know.

And then they go back to Andrey's cell, who is more injured than you, with a broken nose, and yet a splendid smile on his face, the smile of a winner, he starts to hum.

— Не плачь, девочка, мама тебя спасет. — Ghost approaches, his eyes narrowing in her direction.

— What is he singing? — Ghost asks the translator next to him, he doesn't take long to answer.

— Don't cry girl, mommy will save you. — Ghost sighs deeply, holding his jaw.

— Tell me what you know.

— Она такой хороший солдат, мой друг, она девушка. — he says with difficulty.

— She'll make a good soldier, I bet it's a girl. — The military man translates.

— Who is she? — Ghost takes a deep breath, irritation growing in his body.

— Кто она? — The translator asks.

—Это, очевидно, ваша дочь. — He says, looking at Simon with a big smile.

For a moment, even the military man translating stops, his eyes wide and his breath held.

— What the fuck did he say? — Ghost steps away, approaching the translator, who reluctantly looks into his eyes.

— Your daughter.

No. It can't be. I-

It's impossible.

He doesn't,

there's no way,

no-

— Daughter? — His questions come out slowly.

— The one in your little wife's belly. — The prisoner says with an accent, his voice thick and drawn out, his smile seems to widen, and suddenly Ghost feels suffocated.

— I'll kill you, you son of a bitch! — He grabs the man by the collar, his eyes locked on his, who shows no sign of lying, Ghost feels dizzy. — She's not pregnant, she would have told me!

— Она сказала, что планирует рассказать

— She said she planned to say it.

— Она сказала, что хочет чего-то романтического.

— She said she wanted something romantic.

“Baby, what do you think of this?” You ask sweetly one night, sitting on Simon’s lap, scrolling your finger on the screen of your phone.

“Why something so fancy, baby? We’re already married, aren’t we?” Simon jokes, mentally noting the name of the place.

“I want something special for us, Si.” And then you kiss him, he kisses you back, so sweetly, wrapping his arms around your waist.

— Папы не существует, мама его убьет. — He continues to hum.

— Daddy doesn’t exist, mommy will kill him.

Simon doesn’t think before running to his quarters, the room they’ve shared for years, he searches under the bed, inside the wardrobes, and then drawers. There are sheets of paper with words and more words, and then:

Positive for pregnancy.

— Simon. — Price runs to the room, stopping at the door only to see Simon kneeling, his fingers trembling as he holds the paper. — Did you find out?

— Find out what? — He looks up at his captain.

— The pregnancy. — Price bites his cheeks, guilt burning in his chest.

— How do you know about this?

— W-we found a… — Price interrupts himself, sniffling softly, trying to contain his tears. — Recorder on her cell phone, hidden in the case.

— S-so she didn’t… — Simon doesn’t need to finish, he is interrupted by a loud sniff from Price, who timidly nods. — Fuck.

Traitor.

Traitor.

Traitor.

“I swear, for the rest of my life, to be with you, when you fall and when you get up.” Simon fell even more in love with your smile, at that moment, you dressed in white, your eyes shining, he finally felt alive.

Kyle, Gaz, Price, Soap, his entire family, present at the best moment of his life.

“And I promise to love you even in the fights, the battles and the heartaches.”

Idiot.

Idiot.

Idiot.

— We need to go after her. — And then they both quickly agree, and stumble toward the rest of the task force.

Little did they know that as their bodies ran through the forests, screaming your name, with nothing but flashlights to light their way, you were no longer there, your body carried like feathers by soldiers in black, barely able to breathe, pale and cold.

— It seems we have a victory. — One of them cheers, the same Russian accent you would hear from now on, a new life.

Or the destruction of it.

☆"In joy and in sadness"☆

[ihopeiexplode]

📱 “Two Fools Inlove” [←Previous | Next→]

—

"you know you didn't have to bring anything right?"

"yeah I know, just felt like bringing something"

"what's in it?"

"food what else dumbass?"

"coming from you probably someones head"

"wow very funny."

As he gave you the bag you were greeted with some desserts, homemade ones to be exact

"I thought you were bad at cooking?"

"Ive gotten better"

"sure you have..."

—

—

"SUKUNA LOOK LOOK"

"What am I looking at?"

"isn't the statute pretty??"

"I guess? All I see is some naked woman"

"you clearly don't understand art..."

"how do I not understand art when I literally paint, do poetry and calligraphy"

"you expect me to believe that?"

"yes"

"wait your serious?"

"did you think im not?"

"I find that hard to believe..."

"what hobbies did you think I had??"

"dunno tormenting people maybe? You seem like the type"

—

—

"I don't know how to bowl"

"how? It's literally so easy just throw the ball and there"

With that he'd toss bowling the ball to you as if it was nothing??

The moment he tossed it you immediately moved to the side

"WHAT THE FUCK??"

"your being dramatic it isn't that heavy"

"YES IT IS?? I COULD'VE BROKEN A BONE"

"I'd break it myself if you keep acting like a drama queen"

You'd roll your eyes before picking up the ball from the ground and throwing it into the bowling lane, as you did,, however you didn't even manage to hit a single bowling pin..and when Sukuna saw it he immediately laughed at your failed attempt

He'd pick up another ball and hand it to you as he stood behind you

"you're doing it wrong, here"

With that he'd manhandle your body into a proper stance, once he was finished he backed up and told you to throw

And when you did you managed to hit all of the Bowling pins as you did so you immediately jumped and giggled

Sukuna was about to find it adorable but you just HAD to act cocky. When you did he immediately flicked your head

"you wouldn't have done it without me, don't act to confident"

"can't a girl dream?"

"yeah but you can't"

"wow okay.."

—

—

"Sukuna what are you doing here?"

"Yuji asked me to come along to watch him skygazing"

"I'm surprised you agreed"

"didn't had a Choice"

"how come?"

"our mom told me I can't leave him alone, which is ridiculous he's perfectly fine by himself"

"speaking of wheres Yuji?"

"he ran into Megumi so he's having some quality time with his 'bestfriend', anyway why are you here?"

"just felt like it"

"what's so good about skygazing your just looking at stars what's so good about it"

"do you always have to be bitter?"

"always"

—

Both you and Sukuna would be sitting on the blanket you laid out on the floor as you two sat close to one another while looking at the stars, till you spoke

"you know Sukuna, I've been thinking"

"didn't know you had a brain"

"nevermind."

"I'm kidding, continue"

"I guess you aren't really that bad, you fare un to hang out with, surprisingly...I thought I wouldn't have that much fun spending this much time with you but guess I was wrong"

"so what were friends now?"

"dunno, if you want I guess"

He wants to say something so badly. But he knows once he does his feelings would spill out. And he doesn't wanna do that right when you both are finally on good terms.

—

—

Sukuna and uraume would be talking to one another as they sat down on a nearby chair

"how's things with y/n?"

"I guess it's okay, I went skygazing with her yesterday and she sorta confessed how I'm not that bad,"

"looks like you have a chance"

"chance for?"

"a chance to get with her? What else? It's obvious you like her"

"don't be ridiculous. Why would I like her?

"why would I like someone like y/n, the only reason I'm doing this is for the project nothing else, it's not like I care, let alone have feelings towards her"

"if anything when she told me her little confession I was on the verge of laughing, she really is pathetic isn't she? As if I'd be her friend"

"After this is over I'll just stop talking to her, simple,"

He's wondering why he's saying all of this? He knows he likes you but he won't admit that. He won't admit he's been chasing after you for years. He won't admit how he liked you despite how you felt about him. Sukuna isn't some pathetic loser he won't beg. He won't act desperate

After Sukuna finished talking he'd noticed how quiet they became, before he could ask what was wrong he heard a sound behind him, and when he turned around he saw you...

You stood behind him as you just stared at him wide eyed with your fist clenched, you were a fool to think a person like Sukuna would change, why would he ever change? It's still the same Sukuna deep down no matter what he does.

"how much did you hear?"

"all of it."

—

[⛩️] @: Likes & Reblogs R appreciated! ^^

A/N: be honest does this sound like Sukuna atp...he's so out of character I'm about to jump off a cliff

Taglist: @catobsessedlady @hellomeow12 @0-candlecove-0 @shivzypuff @swirlingcurses @1-800-choke-that-ho @attackonnat @chilichopsticks @getoxmahito @memenojutsu @uhnanix @ichorstainedskin @needtoloveoutloud @love-me-satoru @s-j320 @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @goj0sunglasses @svtvrnal @haitanibros0007 @punkhazardlaw @mslydiaa @jayathelostdragon @caileysdead @rixyaaaa @minzxec @rzcnlb

[charlunday]

You can't escape me that easily, coward!!

All the screenshots below are from @districtfourmermaid

[I'll be putting my responses in color for clarity]

#1: Firstly, your use of the word "romance" shows just how severely you misunderstood the relationships in the book. I recently delivered a presentation on "Love & Rebellion & Why People Hate The Hunger Games," in which I used a quote from Nina Jacobson. She says, "If you believe that people are fundamentally good—or capable of choosing to be good—then you’ll be more drawn to a model of governance that protects people’s rights, liberties, and independent thinking." In many of your posts, you reference Katniss being a badass woman who don't need no man. You take the rebellion at face value. I can guarantee you you'd eat up Plutarch's fire and fury propos. But you're a Gale kinnie, so that's understandable. However, if you read the book, you'd understand that the heart of any rebellion is love. Doesn't matter what kind, just love. Viewing the love triangle as a marketing tactic only flaunts your inability for complex thinking and your fiercely dated millennial feminism.

#2: This part is just.... an unbelievably shallow read. I have nothing else to say, so I will let Suzanne do the talking for me.

"No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else's arms have made me feel this safe." THG, chapter 22.

"This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another." THG, chapter 22.

“If he dies, I’ll never go home, not really. I’ll spend the rest of my life in this arena trying to think my way out.” THG, chapter 25.

"Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me. I take his hand, holding on tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go." THG, chapter 27.

#3: I love how in this paragraph you completely out how self-centered you are. Because you don't want children (which is fine, btw), you automatically feel entitled to Katniss' story and her ending. I've seen you refer to her love story as "comphet" before, which only enforces my belief that that word should be taken away from people who never passed 8th grade English. At the beginning of the series, Katniss says she's never having kids. This comes from living in a world that is unsafe, a world she would never want to subject a child to. Meanwhile, throughout the series, we see Katniss act as an incredibly nurturing figure. She cares for Prim, for Rue, for Posy, and shows sympathy even for Capitol children. In the epilogue, her ability to have children is representative of the safety she feels in this new world. She even dreams about this world in Catching Fire while directly referencing Peeta.

I understand I'm not going to change your mind. You blocked me. Your idea of feminism is Francis Lawrence's big boom boom action movie. Hell yes girl power. If you looked past your idea of "comphet" and "heteronormativity," you would see a book and a relationship that revolutionized hetero gender roles in the late 2000s YA scene. Unfortunately, you fail to see that because you are blinded by your need to project onto a character.

Anyway, have fun repeating 6th grade until you're 50. I hope you get more than 30 notes on a post one day. Actually, I don't.

[charlie-lec-stories]

A lovely mess // CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character

Summary: Four times Charles overreacted to becoming a father and one he actually failed to react. Or Charles being a mess through the best and most scary adventure of his life.

Warnings: None, this is pure wholesomeness.

Author’s Note: This one was inspired by some stories my own dad and uncle told me about the times they had their first children. Yes, some of those stories are based on things my father did when him and my mom were expecting me hahahaha. Rate: PG

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Every man reacts differently to pregnancy, but the most common response is just simply becoming a mess of a human being. And because of that, Charles, for once in his life, could be considerer an average man. He had been exceptional his whole life: excellent student at school, talented in arts, languages and sports, remarkable people skills and loved by everyone. People assumed that he was going to be an exceptional father too, and he knew he was committed to the role since day one, but none of that made the experience less scary. The monegasque had always want kids, he had always pictured himself growing old with a woman he loved and raising a bunch of little humans. When he knocked up his girlfriend he was definitely not planning on becoming a father so soon in his life, but he was happy nonetheless. His history with his girlfriend was kind of complicated too, her family didn't like him much, or more precisely the fact that Charles' job made her travel around the globe, away from her family all the time. He knew that he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone in his life, he knew that every time he pictured himself in the future, that future was shared with her, but it would be a lie if he'd say that the pregnancy didn't complicate things. His in-laws weren't too happy when they found out and Charles' mother was kind of worried about the whole situation. But Charles and his girl loved that little "accident" more than life itself and they actually never cared too much about anyone else's opinions. He convinced his girlfriend to move in with him and she also agreed on keep traveling with him until she ultimately had to stay home for the baby's safety.

"Is six weeks really that bad, Amour? I mean, maybe you're jet lagged or something". Charles nervously wondered from sitting at the bottom of the bed, his girl anxiously pacing around the room.

"That's not how periods work, Charlie". She was trying to stay calm and not bark at him, but that was a difficult task.

"Then let's buy a test and find out". He got up and started walking to the door when she grabbed his arm.

"Wait! You can't just go to a pharmacy and buy a test!". She looked at him like he was insane.

"Why not?". If there was someone humble enough to always forget he's rich and famous, that was Charles.

"Because you're Charles fucking Leclerc, that's why!". She let go of his arm and ran her hand down her face, exasperated. "The press is going to have a field day if you do that".

"Shit, you're right". He sighed and his shoulders sunk. He could see her shaking, scared and stressed and all he wanted to do was give her answers so she could get some peace of mind. "I'm sorry, Amour, I just don't know what to do".

"Let's call Lorenzo, maybe Charlotte can buy it for us".

He watched her take care of everything: call his brother, open the door for him and Charlotte, explain the situation, decide over test brands with his sister in law, drink loads of water, all while he sat on the couch, his mind running faster than he had ever drove his Ferrari. How could she think so clearly even with how scared she was? What would he do if the test was positive? What if she didn't want to keep the baby? Why was he feeling so sad with the mere idea of the test turning up negative? Was he really ready to be a father? There were so many questions and so little answers. He could hear Charlotte walk out the door and his girlfriend go their room, he clearly felt his older brother sit by his side on the couch, but he just couldn't move. Lorenzo said something Charles never caught, too drown inside his own head.

"I really want this baby, Enzo". Was all he let out and his brother just squeezed his shoulder.

Charlotte came back pretty fast, a paper bag with at least five different tests for his girl to do. The older woman explained the younger which ones were more effective so they could compare the results later. The possible future mother lock herself into the bathroom while the other three waited outside. Charles felt like he waited for an eternity before she came out with the five little white sticks. She placed them over a napkin on the coffee table and Lorenzo set the timer. Now, they had to wait again. She was sitting on the same couch he was before, looking at everything but the tests in front of her, so he sat down and took her hand in his, hoping for the contact to be enough to ease her thoughts. He wasn't exactly the epitome of calmness and the sweat that covered his hand made it hard to grip at. She looked at him and smiled, she knew that he was going to be there for them, no matter what, but she was still scared of what he would think, she still needed to know if he really wanted this. Still, she refrained from asking and simply rested her head on his shoulder, searching for comfort on his scent. She had her eyes closed when she suddenly flew to the other side of the couch while Charles' loud yelp filled her ears.

"What the fuck was that?". She looked around, trying to find what could have startled him so much to trow her like that, but all she could see was Charles clumsily trying to grab one of the tests while his feet barely kept him up. She had never seen him so uncoordinated in the two years they had been together. His fingers had a mind of their own and his legs were trembling.

"Two lines, this one has two lines". Charles, who had been quiet and petrified for the past hour, was mumbling like a madman as he showed his brother one of the tests. In the background, the alarm set by Lorenzo started ringing and they all looked down at the coffee table, searching for the lines of truth. Charles grabbed the the tests smiling wide as he showed them to the others. "THEY ALL HAVE TWO LINES". He was hyperventilating, his whole body shaking and Lorenzo couldn't help but let out his loudest laugh as he watched his younger brother loose the little bits of sanity he had. "CAN YOU SEE IT, BABY?!". He shoved the sticks into his girlfriend's face. "It's a baby! We made a baby! Putain de merde! I'm going to be a Papa!".

"Yes, Charlie! I see it!". She said sharing his enthusiasm. But then she saw him go pale really fast. He walked backwards a few steps and Lorenzo caught him from behind before he could fall butt first on the ground.

"Okay, I think you need to process this rollercoaster of emotions while sitting on the couch, Cha". The older Leclerc helped his bother to sit down next to the now confirmed future mama. There, Charles took her hand and smiled, a high-like expression covering his eyes. He may be scared, but he had never been happier.

If Charles' reaction to the pregnancy was that chaotic, it was a sure thing that the following nine months would be as well. Before the first trimester was up, he had already brought another house to move to, where the baby could have their own room and a playroom. He brought every piece of Ferrari merchandizing he could find on the internet, he didn't even care if it was original or not. Was it pretty? Yes. Was it Ferrari? Yes. Then he was buying it. His girlfriend even went to the extent of taking away his cards and threatened with getting rid of wifi to make him stop. He didn't, took her extension in the middle of the night and kept binge-shopping for his baby at 4 am. He brought furniture for the bedroom and the playroom, and then he found his biggest rival till the day. A rival he wanted to beat more than Max Verstappen: a crib. She wasn't even showing and he was already putting a crib together, or let's rephrase it, fighting with the crib and losing pathetically.

"Cela n'a aucun sens". (This makes no sense). He complained while he tried to attach what was supposed to be 'Part B' to 'Part 3.1'. Why there was a part 3.1, he didn't know and was too stress out to try and figure it out. He growled, he literally growled when the whole crib came crushing down in front of him. "Je déteste cette merde". (I hate this shit).

"Charlie? What's wrong? I heard a loud noise". He looked at the mother of his child and all he could feel was embarrassment. "Are you alright?".

"Yes. I'm fine". He answered from the floor, looking at his lap. He wanted to cry, but he also didn't want to upset her.

"Hey, you know you can tell me anything, right?". She sat next to him on the floor and searched for his eyes, but he kept looking away from her. "What is it, Charles?".

"I-". He tried to start talking, but he was cut off by his own sob. She quickly made him turn towards her, looking for injuries, but he seemed to be physically fine. She saw the tears running down his face and did the best she could to wipe the away. Moving to sit on his lap, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself flat against him, trying to get as close as she could. He cried on her shoulder, soaking her his hoodie and crushing her with his arms around her waist. They stayed like that for a while, until Charles stopped crying. She scratched his head to calm him down and after some time, he did. In a painfully soft whisper, he admitted his fear to her. "I'm going to be a terrible Papa".

"Don't say that. We both know that's not true". Shushing him, she pulled away and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. "Is this about the crib?".

"I've been fighting this crib for four days. Our baby is going to sleep on the floor and it's all my fault". She laughed and for a moment, she regretted it, seeing the hurt in his eyes. She calmed down and pecked his lips.

"Charlie, our baby has barely formed their ears yet, you have more than enough time to figure this out". He didn't look convinced at all.

"But what if I don't?". She smiled at him.

"I know you will. Do you want to know why?". He nodded and she ran her fingers through his hair to move it away from his face, so they could look into each others eyes and make him believe her. "Because you already are the best Papa in the world, Charles".

He won against the crib just in time to catch up with the worst part of the cravings period. They were into the fourth month of pregnancy and the little bump was proudly starting to show. Charles couldn't keep his hands away from it. He was constantly touching the bump, kissing the bump, talking to the bump, even scolding the bump whenever he saw some discomfort tinting his girlfriend's face. In the paddock he practically forced her to go everywhere with him and on interviews he answered every question while looking at her. He insisted on people staying at least ten centimeters away from her and he even took upon himself the task of preparing every meal she ate, just to make sure that it was safe and she didn't get food poisoned. He checked places' and foods' temperatures, chairs' and couches' safety, if her shoes were properly tied (at least 20 times a day), the only thing missing was him wrapping her on bobble wrapping. He safety proofed the every hotel room they stayed in so she wouldn't 'accidentally hit the bump against unknown furniture in the dark'. At some point, she had to put a stop to the madness, specially when Charles' newly-daddy paranoia messed with her cravings.

"Amour, what are you eating?". He asked when he caught her hiding with Lando and Max behind the Red Bull garage, a massive greasy half eaten hot dog on her hands. Lando was opening a mayonnaise sachet with his teeth and Max was feeding her french fries with his bare hands, all three of them sitting on the floor. It wasn't exactly the most sanitary situation, but the fuzzy feeling she felt inside her chest thanks to that hot dog made it all worth it. Charles could swear he had an aneurysm just by the sight of it all. "Where did you get that?".

"Uhm...". Her and Lando looked at Max, waiting for him to answer, since he was the one who brought it.

"Well... It's from a professional, I can assure you that, Charles". The monegasque frowned and Max swallowed, scared, just to find out his mouth was completely dry. He wasn't an easily scared guy, but something about Charles' over-protective-dad mood just terrified him.

"And where's the professional's place? Can you show me?". Max, still sitting on the floor, looked at everything but Charles.

"Oh, you see-".

"It's from the stand outside of the paddock". Lando blurted out, followed by him covering his mouth with both his hands and the three of them heard Charles growl.

"Max did you just feed my pregnant girlfriend a hot dog from a dirty street-stand? YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW IF THE PERSON WASHES THEIR HANDS-"

"They definitely don't, I mean, they don't have where to".

"Lando, you're not helping me, mate". Max advised, not moving his eyes from the fuming Charles above him. Then the pregnant girl decided to intervene.

"Charlie, babe, it's okay. I asked him to buy it for me". Charles then looked at her, his gaze softening a little, but still angry.

"Amour, you know that's not good for you". He walked to her and hooked his arms under hers to help her off the floor.

"But the baby wanted it". Max still followed Charles, afraid of what the future father could do to him for messing with his unborn baby's diet. Lando stayed very still, hoping to make himself invisible. "I was just craving this so bad! And you never let me have this type of food. The baby is fine, I promise".

"Don't do that face, it's not fair". He complained when she gave him her best puppy eyes. She didn't stop, and he finally dropped the attitude. "Okay, maybe we can make some room for a hot dog once in a while. But you have to keep eating healthy, we don't want the little Tifosi to come out malnourished".

"Yay!". She squealed and hugged him tight, the hot dog almost falling from her hand. Charles hugged her back and then directed his gaze towards the other two drivers.

"And you two". Max and Lando looked at him wide-eyed. "This better be the last time you pull off something like this. Did I make myself clear?".

"Yes, sir". Both said at the same time and got up from the floor.

"Okay, go on. And think about what you did". They nodded their heads, Max handing the girl the fries and then walking away with Lando.

"I like you daddy-voice". Charles shrugged at her comment.

"Amour, don't call it that or I won't be able to use it without laughing".

Charles' paranoia got better. He calmed down a little, but then the fear of being a bad father came back. Around the seventh month, already knowing they were having a boy, Charles found himself with insomniac. At the beginning of the pregnancy he was scared of not knowing what to do to take care of a baby's basic needs: bottle feed, change diapers, help him to sleep, and things like that. But as the date of the delivery got closer, Charles' fears shifted to the more existential type. What if he was unable to guide his son through life? What if he failed on teaching him good values and a strong sense of ethics? What if he ended up raising a spoiled kid, arrogant and narcissistic? What if he couldn't make his boy happy? What if his kid hated him? Those questions kept him up at night, turning over and over on the bed, and cold sweat covering his body. He would walk to the baby's room and look at the painting his girlfriend did on the walls, the name 'Jules' written on lilac on a clear sky, over the race track so carefully crafted. What if his son didn't want to race cars? What if he was forcing him to do so when he wasn't even born? Sitting on the rocking chair, he would look out the window, the yachts at the bay clearly visible from there. What if his son didn't like Monaco? What if his son would rather adopt his mother's nationality and culture over his? The dark sky adorned with shinny little dots would look back at him without answers.

"Charlie? Why are you up, love?". He heard his girl's sleepy voice call out to him from the doorway. He smiled at her, his eyes glossy as he fought the tears that wanted to escape.

"Just thinking, Amour. Don't worry". He gave her his best smile, but she could read his real feelings underneath it. "Go back to bed, I'll join you in a minute".

"I think we love each other enough to cut the bullshit, babe". She walked further into the room and stopped in front of him, her big belly at his face's height, and he couldn't help but reach forward and kiss it. "What is it?"

"It's... it's just a lot and it's late. Don't worry, really-"

"Charles, I'm not sleeping until I'm convinced that you're alright". He sighed, and pulled her to his lap. The weight was a little bit more than what he was used to, but he loved that, it made it impossible for him to overlook the fact that his baby was there, with them. He made her rest her back against his chest and rocked he chair, hugging her tight against him and resting his chin over her shoulder. They both looked out of the window and she patiently waited for him to tell her what was going on inside his mind.

"I'm scared. I feel this huge responsibility over Jules". She smiled, loving whenever they talked about their baby using the name they choose for him. "I just want to be a good Papa, but I'm so scared of messing up, of making the wrong choices, of using the wrong words, of leading him in the wrong direction. What if I don't raise him right? If I'm not a good role model?"

"Well, you're not alone in this, Charlie, I'm with you till the end of the line. Like Bucky and Steve. I know that we'll be alright. I just know it". She sounded so sure of herself. He wished he could be that sure about everything.

"How do you do it? How do you manage to always be so sure and composed?". She laughed and he felt the baby kick under his palm, he always kicked when she laughed.

"I've been the least composed person and you know it, Charlie! I break down crying at least five times a day. You've seen that! You're the one who comforts me every time". He laughed softly, that was true, those had been some pretty crazy seven months. A true rollercoaster of emotions. And they still had two more months to go. "I know that we'll be alright because we're already asking ourselves these questions. Because we care about Jules so much that we truly take time to think things through. We are going to be alright because we love our baby and we both know we will always do the best we can for him. We won't let the bad choices from our parents be repeated and we'll make sure to copy the best from them to give to Jules. That's why I'm so sure". She turned to look at him for a moment. "I trust you to be the dad of my baby because I know how great of a human being you are, Charles".

"I love you". He said, feeling a lot better. He kissed her tenderly, and then another kick was felt under his hand. "Thanks for being here for me, Amour".

"Always, just as you had always been for me". She nuzzled her nose against his. Another kick and they both laughed. "Let's go back to bed, Papa".

The two months passed by in a blink. Charles asked Ferrari to give him a leave of absence for the first two races of the season. He wanted to be world champion, but he would rather be there when his son was born. Ferrari let him take his time, but Jules decided to be born at eight and a half months. It seemed like he couldn't wait to meet his parents, because everything happened so fast that Charles had barely had any time to react. They were having lunch at his mother's house, and he was having the best time. His girl looked amazing, all radiant and happy, her belly covered by a cute but comfortable dress, his sisters in law both touching the belly and fighting for godmother duties. Lorenzo and Charlotte were definitely the chosen ones, but they hadn't tell anyone yet, after all both Lorenzo and Charlotte were there for them when they needed them. His mother was showing him little clothes that she had crocheted for Jules and his brothers discussing which one was going to be the 'responsible uncle' and who the 'funcle'. Arthur was definitely unable to be the responsible one, so he was already chosen to be the 'funcle'. Every conversation was cut short when the faint voice of the future mama rang through the air.

"Charlie". Her shaken voice called out, and he turned around to see what she needed. There was a wet patch under her and she was grabbing her belly, a painful expression on her face. "I think my water broke".

"The baby is coming!". Arthur shouted excitedly, but Charles' brain just stopped functioning. He saw everyone running around to grab things, Charlotte and Carla helping his girl out of the house and towards his car, Lorenzo grabbing the baby bag the carried around just in case since the beginning of the last trimester, Arthur pushing him outside and his mother speaking, but he just couldn't move. H was petrified. He felt like his blood pressure had dropped in a second and if it wasn't for Arthur behind him, he would have certainly fallen to the ground. His mother took his car keys out of his pocket and then they pushed him on the back seat, next to his girlfriend. Her hand crushing his brought him back from his outer-body state and he was able to react, turning to face her and running his other hand down her arm, doing his best to sooth her.

"It's okay, mon amour. Breath, breath with me". He instructed her and he started to exaggerate his breathing so she could copy her. She did and that calmed her down enough to count the seconds between one contraction and the next. "That's it, Amour, you're doing so good". He praised her and she smiled a little, her happy expression cut short by another waive of pain. She screamed and cried, sweat covering her forehead and running down her face, mixing with her tears. It was probably the most messy she had ever looked, but he had never seen her as beautiful as in that moment. "I love you so much". He whispered it, but by the squeeze she gave to his hand, he knew for sure she was saying it back. "We're almost there, hung on a little longer".

He almost carried her out of the car and into the hospital the second Arthur parked the car. Then, they found out that she was ready to deliver in that second. Jules didn't want them to keep him waiting, she was brought to the delivery room and Charles was given surgical gown so he could join her. Inside, the whole process was quick, in 30 minutes, Jules was crying on the doctors arms and Charles could feel his heart skip a beat. Wrapped on towel and with the small hat they had for him on, Jules was passed on to his mother, who took him instantly while she cried her eyes out. Charles, still on delay with reality, was trying to process the information. That was his baby, he was finally there, he could finally touch him. The doctor walked to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, Charles couldn't stop looking at his girl and little Jules. He heard a softly "go ahead, meet your boy", and that was enough for him to place a shaking and gentle hand on Jules' head. He ran his thumb over the soft little cheek and the tears started to fall. He felt his girl's hand wipe away his tears and heard her laugh softly. She just found funny that after overreacting about every little thing for the past eight months, Charles was barely able to react that day. He was a mess in that moment, but he was the perfect mess in her eyes. The most extraordinary mess. He finally smiled and reached down to kiss her head, then he looked at Jules.

"I am your Papa, Jules. I love you. I'm so happy to finally meet you".

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I hope you guys liked this one!

[vickyvicarious]

"For your mother's sake."

It hits so hard, on multiple levels. First, what this might mean for her. It's her final effort, the most impactful thing she says after religion, superstition, outright pleading on her knees and crying all fail. She knows that she can't stop him from going, but at the very least she will try her best to protect him as much as she can. She places the crucifix around his neck herself, doesn't just hand it to him.

Did she lose a child to Dracula in the past? Is she seeing echoes of her own son in Jonathan's face? Or perhaps there have been brave young men who tried to fight back against him, who deliberately went to the castle and never returned. Maybe Jonathan is the first person she's met who is actually trying to go there, and while she knows it can only end in his death, the idea of letting anyone go willingly to that evil place is more than she can bear. She's giving up a piece of her own protection. The Count has been sending letters to her husband; he was the one who suggested Jonathan stay here. He knows of her. If she shows any resistance it could mean greater danger for herself, and giving Jonathan her crucifix means losing a powerful totem of self-protection. If he actually listened to her warning, she can probably expect a terrible fate of her own; maybe even just giving him the crucifix alone would be enough to ensure that. But again, whether he reminds her of her own lost son or just because he doesn't know what he's getting himself into, she can't bear to do nothing. She places herself in the role of his mother here. "For my sake," she's saying, "let me do what little I can to save you. Please."

Jonathan is an orphan. We don't know the circumstances of his childhood, but it's possible that he never even knew his mother. (It's my headcanon.) Even if he did, she has been gone for a long time now. And yet these are the words he can't argue with in the end. He was already taking her seriously, and trying to treat her with respect. Her warnings were obviously distressing to him, but there's no way he can actually turn back now. His livelihood depends on this trip, he has no actual evidence to justify leaving, and he also wants so badly to live up to Mr. Hawkins' trust in him. He is already "thinking of his father" (or the closest he has) when he says he has to go to the castle. And yet, the care and fear and love this woman is showing for him hits so hard. I wonder if he is thinking of his actual mother when he accepts the crucifix. Whether the concept of her or an actual memory... Or maybe he too is placing her in the role of his mother here. Maybe, in keeping the crucifix (and not just with him, but around his neck where she placed it, even as he rides away) he is saying yes to that implicit request as well. "I'll let you care for me. I'll accept it gratefully." It's the first motherly care he has probably felt in many long years.

In this book, children are placed in terrible danger again and again, and most of the time they can't be saved. Parents and parental figures are equally doomed, leaving our heroes all orphaned in a sense, unable to rely on any greater source of wisdom or comfort. They have to take things into their own hands and deal with the problem alone, despite still being caught up in grief for what they've lost - a kind of coming of age in that sense. There's even a literal version of this happening with both Arthur and Jonathan (and Mina) specifically, when their father figures die and leave them with sudden new responsibilities. And of course, the inheritances from these father figures help in distinct and immensely useful ways, even as they remain absent from the story throughout. They haunt the margins at best until death steals them away completely, and their illnesses tend to serve to divide our heroes from one another when they needed to be united sooner. I personally don't count van Helsing as a father figure really, but if you do then he is the only one who manages to be around and be directly helpful (and even then, he's unable to save Lucy), even though all the fathers we hear from are loved and loving. But we do actually meet a few mothers, and they are usually unable to alter the story despite being more present. Their efforts to save their children are misdirected and only bring about their own death as well, in the end. Lucy's mother seems to mean well but everything she does directly makes everything harder; the mother at the castle later tries to avenge her child possibly against the wrong person, and in any case is unable to succeed. But here, the innkeeper's wife with her crucifix manages what no other mother does. Even though she assumes this to be another wasted effort (in fact, she can't bear to remain in the room with him afterwards; re: Dracula did such a good job with the hopelessness in her voice when she says the 'mother's sake' line), her assistance helps Jonathan to survive. His 'inheritance' from this momentary mother-figure isn't just the physical crucifix, though that is useful (and also the only inheritance a mother leaves for a child throughout the book, even when it would be expected and easy and make complete sense to do so, ahem). It's also the first and the most knowledgeable and the most effective aid given to a 'child' throughout the entire book.