#adjective law

[ghlawstudent]

4.04.2023

Studying: Procedural law/Adjective law

P.s.: i got feedback on my provisional thesis last week and it was really good! I was pleasantly suprised bc when i handed it in, i wasn't really confident if i was going the right direction.

But the professor said it was one of the best dissertations he was supervising this year! I nearly fainted in my seat then and there ♡•♡

He gave me a few more tips to elevate it to a higher level but i was so happy omg...

I need to hand in the final version in May. So i got a bit of time left.

[sharper-than-a-serpents-tooth]

very curious where the cacao beans are coming from in Obelia and what the worker's conditions are like

[veil-of-exordia]

The Courty Yard

Saw the word 'courtyard' and thought it must be a misspelling of 'country yard' until I realized that 'courtyard', as in 'court' + 'yard', was a word 12 hours later

My mind was pronouncing it 'core-tee-yard' and I'm like 'courty' is probably not an extant adjective; therefore 'courty' cannot be used to describe 'yard'.

But if 'courty' does exist it should be a synonym to 'seductive'. I want to read some fic in which 'I walked courtily towards them'

[sufficientlylargen]

"Kitties cat doesn't work because we have to pluralize the noun" - I'm curious what part of speech these people think "kitty" is.

Oh so the plural of surgeon general is surgeons general, huh? Well what about bunnies rabbit. Puppies dog. KITTIES CAT. Did you ever think of that, you sillies goose?

[emilyofmindelan]

brb just discovered my favorite line of container ships: the Evergreen b-class ships all have names like "ever beamy" and "ever boomy" and "ever burly"

[xiaoriae]

TERMS OF ENDEARMENT.

pairing. neuvillette & wriothesley x gn!reader (separate) ★ genre. established relationship au & fluff. ★ wc. 1.2k

synopsis. calling out the fontaine men by their pet names!

contents. pet names (reader's: dear, darling, etc.), lovestruck neuvillette :( , may contain an inaccurate description of the melusine's tail bcs i'm dumb, a really minimal spoiler from the 4.0 archon quest (regarding hydro dragon and rain) in neuvillette's, mention of sedene (the melusine outside neuvie's office), neuvillette just wants his kith >:( , wriothesley might be ooc bcs we all love him despite not knowing him yet, mentions of sigewinne in wrio's, made-up [1] fontaine law and background setting, and an assumption of sigewinne is the one who often treats wrio's injuries(?).

a/n. first, idk who to pull for; either neuvi or wrio bcs i alr have hydro and cryo dps :cries: but srsly, the v4.1 trailer has me on my knees for these two men (in a respectful manner of course).

support banner and animated line dividers by @/cafekitsune on tumblr.

ִ ࣪𖤐 𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄

neuvillete would never admit it out loud.

how you left him in awe every time he heard you calling out for his attention—monsieur neuvillette in a formal setting, but instead referring him as neuvie when in private.

something about it had always made neuvillette's chest just a little bit tightened at the way the name rolled off your tongue oh-so-eloquently, and he often found himself staring at your lips a second longer than what everyone would consider as appropriate.

oh, how he would love to peck your lips, feeling them against his, even for a brief moment.

it was an embarrassing thought sitting at the little corner of his mind. he was ashamed at how easily you had him on your mercy.

"neuvie," your voice came out a tad bit softer after seeing him spacing out—in which was totally not a norm to see him staring far ahead and at you, though not until recently.

"are you alright, love?"

he swore he felt his heart dropped. it was a double kill to him, who recently figured out that he loved you more than he initially thought he would. how endearing of you to call him with such names, it was cute. a perfect adjective to describe you.

"nothing, dear," his voice resonated through the room, and you realised how he looked at the perfect weather illuminating his office through the window.

you looked at him back, skeptical as to why the corner of his mouth seemed to form a fine curve, but you shrugged the feeling as soon as it came. maybe he was happy, considering the sunny and chilly weather outside.

and his feeling mattered to you the most.

"monsieur neuvillette," you called him out again.

this time, neuvillette could barely hide the frown that was about to form on his face. why did you call him that? why the sudden change of attitude? he was confused. especially when he felt the soft touches on his hair.

you were patting his head, occasionally fixing his hair as neuvillette slightly leaned in to feel the warmth only you could exude.

"it is about time for today's trial, chief justice. lady furina must have been waiting for you at the opera house," you gently reminded him, feeling the way his shoulders tensed.

oh—how stupid of him, he thought. he finally understood why you called him by his title, there was sedene all along at the door.

the melusine looked at both of you in amusement, he could tell by the way her tail was wagging.

"another minute, dear?" his voice was low enough, seemingly to avoid the melusine's attention as he sighed.

you beamed a small smile at him, making neuvillette felt ten times heavier to let go of you and go to the court. "no, neuvie," you rubbed soft circles at the back of his hand, and neuvillette fought the urge to intertwine his finger with yours.

he fought the urge to kiss you on your lips—his name sounded so precious coming out from you. it actually pained his heart at how irreplaceable you were in his life. 

"after the court session is over, we can cuddle all we want, yeah?" you pecked his cheek, and neuvillette thought he could die happily if this was the treatment he would get—a reward worth billions of mora if this was what you gave him from cherishing and loving you.

and he would love to hear and love you forever.

ִ ࣪𖤐 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

inside the fortress of meropide, the only person that could make wriothesley's burdens felt lighter was you, and only you. to see that you enjoyed your time being here—although the fortress was everything except fun and colours—and sometimes helped sigewinne with her infirmary stuff, he felt a part of him was proud at how kind and brave you were. 

wriothesley loved looking at you teasing and babying sigewinne. it was another trait that made him clicked with you so well—despite his profession and the countless dangers he might have brought along.

he remembered the first time you insisted to tag along with him to the infamous underwater prison. no one could enter and exit the fortress whenever they wanted, and you managed to prove him wrong. now that your reputation was well-known within the area, it seemed that the law on permitting outsiders to get into the fortress with thorough screening process didn't really seem to be applicable to you.

every garde recognised you. every staff and people and melusine alike—all had acknowledged you in their work space.

so when you introduced yourself as wriothesley's other half, it was understandable that your name made it in the headlines and became the monthly issue from the steambird.

'after all, the duke doesn't really seem to be the lover type, isn't he?'

"hi, handsome," you waved at wriothesley, who seemed to just finish with an interrogation session with one of the criminals. a stack of papers was in his grip.

his eyes widened at the way you called him with that word which often failed to not make his heart thumped against his chest.

"good evening, darling," he scoffed when he felt the way his voice almost cracked. the random terms of endearment you threw at him had always made his actions cut short and his words to be stuck in his throat. "what are you doing here? did i not say to go back home at 5? it is late."

"mhm," you hummed.

pointing at the clipboard in your right hand which wriothesley had realised was there all along, you explained yourself. "was running an errand for sigewinne. the poor nurse had some troubles so i lent a hand or two," you said while tapping wriothesley's shoulder thrice, feeling proud of yourself for contributing a cent around the fortress.

you then involuntarily fixed his tie, still giving him the proud smile you often wore.

wriothesley sent you a soft smile at that, contradicting the multitude of scars littered across his body.

of course his favourite person was the one who was kind enough to help sigewinne—it was as if you silently repaid sigewinne's past deeds of treating his injuries. how could anyone would not love you for that, he thought.

your heart swelled at the sight. your partner was quite soft at heart when he smiled, despite the roughness he portrayed.

you were staring at his face with those sparkles he never knew could exist in one's eyes. it was too much, but wriothesley thought he would just mentally appreciate the pure loving look you gave him.

"this will do. now my man looks dashing as always."

it took him exactly three seconds to understand what you meant. you were fixing his appearance, and he felt his face became a little bit warmer. my man, he unconsciously repeated the words in his mind.

if sigewinne saw the two of you being so lovey dovey in public—well, maybe both of you were done for.

"the gesture is very much appreciated, darling," he chuckled.

"you are very welcome, sir," you replied, mimicking the small chuckles he sent towards you.

"since both of us have already worked overtime, let us grab a bite?" you swung your arm around his, interlocking with the arm that often held you with such gentleness.

"alright," wriothesley gave in to your suggestion, long forgotten where he should be heading before crossing his path with you. "let us go on a date."

all rights reserved © xiaoriae 2023 strictly on tumblr only. any form of wrongdoings under the copyright law is strictly prohibited.

[thevirtualvalentine]

Oh wow, this is popular already. I SEE WHAT THE REAL DEMOGRAPHIC IS ON HERE!!! 😽

Submissive cute men, I will write that down. So happy, that’s honestly what I love writing.

TYSM!!! 💌💌💌

004. ONE PIECE, CAPTAIN KOBY.

content warnings: afab!fem!reader, virgin!koby but it’s not vital to the plot, riding, top!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it up), cheesy “trapped in a small room” smut troupe, penetrative sex, dry humping, sex with feelings, “good boy” is used twice.

plot: your regular patient, Captain Koby, visits your office but you’re both thrown in a small broom closet during an evacuation drill! He may or may not have a crush on you and your dubious positioning on top of him will send him over the edge.

Captain Koby wouldn’t call himself a hypochondriac, but he cannot keep himself from waltzing into the nurses station on some bullshit excuse to see his favorite nurse. He’s just one of many of your admirers, and he’s more than aware of the fierce competition for your attention. While he doesn’t believe rank means anything in the grand scheme of winning your affections, one quick use of his haki has basic cadets running so he can spend alone time with you.

“And what is it this time Captain?” You whip around in your seat when he sheepishly says hello, scratching the back of his neck. You greet him with a sweet smile as he shuffles in.

“Uhhh, heart burn, yeah terrible terrible heart burn. Think you have anything for me?” He knows he’s full of shit, but it’s worth the effort anyway if he gets to see you. His cheeks tinted just as pink as his hair, you’re pretty much the only good thing left on this base and that’s why he can never bring himself to leave until Garp makes him hull ass on another adventure. The way you smile at him so sweetly whenever he speaks makes his heart flutter almost uncomfortably fast in his chest, maybe he does have heart burn…

“At your age? You’re too fit to be bogged down by all these health problems Captain.” He likes the way it sounds when you say his title, it just rolls off your tongue better than anyone else’s.

He’s quick to think of another excuse, “but what if it’s something serious!” You laugh as he sits down on your medical table removing his captains jacket. You pull down your skimpy nurses uniform before walking over to him with his chart on your clipboard, “I just wanna make sure.”

He wins another smile from you as you stand in front of him to check his vitals. You of course note how hot his face is and how he nervously twiddles his thumbs back and forth. He’s cute, too cute. Coming to your office week after week with a bosh excuse.

Koby loves the feeling of your hands on him, how delicate your finger tips skim over his shoulders and face. Of course it’s all professional, but who is he to complain? The scent of your haircare products and vanilla hovering in the air as you walk circles around him. It’s almost like a familiar routine between you two, he comes into bother you and you almost enable his deep-seated crush by not kicking him out flat on his ass.

“Well, no signs of any lingering symptoms Captain Koby, just a fast heart rate.” You shift your weight to one hip, letting your clipboard rest against your waist, his eyes following the curve of your body. “You’re good to go, will I see you next week?” Letting your red pen rest against your bottom lip you ask just to mess around with him a bit. He gets so flustered trying to find the right thing to say and you enjoy watching him gesture nervously as word vomit spews forth.

The line outside your waiting room has gotten exceptionally long during his stay and you don’t mean to rush him out, but, you do have a job to do. One cute little captain isn’t enough to distract you from your goals of helping people. “Next!” You call out down the hallway as he pulls his jacket back on.

The emergency evacuation lights start flickering before the long winded siren accompanies it. There must be some sort of drill as the overhead PA comes on. “Attention! All hands report to the dock. This is an emergency evacuation drill.” It’s been a few months since the last one, but still the obnoxious flickering and blaring alarms make your head reel in agony.

“Come with me, I’ll take you to the dock.” It’s Koby, he’s gesturing his hand forward for you to take as soldiers pour out into the hallways, he wouldn’t want you to get trampled over as thousands of people make their way outside. He’s always been sweet like this, a real gentleman.

His grip is strong and protective, yet gentle and nervous as he takes your hand in his. You’re placed in front of him while he clears the way for you both to pass through, that is until you’re both shoved into an open door connected to the long hallway.

Koby swaddles you into his chest to protect you from falling and the door is slammed shut in the process. You doubt you’d be able to get it open with the amount of people still passing through for at least a good ten minutes.

“Well shit, oh Captain Koby are you ok?” You hear groans beneath you and remember why your fall wasn’t nearly as painful as it could have been. There’s no light in the room and it’s rather cramped, barely any space to extend your limbs as you’re trapped on top of him. You push your hands against what feels like his chest while you try to look for a light, however you only find an oil lamp on a crate. You assume this was an area where people would come to smoke during work hours.

“I’m fine, are you ok? Does anything hurt miss y/n?” The concern in his tone his evident, his hands come to cup your face as he examines for any scratches or bruises. He’d never forgive himself if you were hurt on his accord.

“Hey isn’t that my job, I’m fine Captain thank you.” It finally sets in for him how he’s touching you so intimately and the precarious position you’re left in, sitting on top of him with knees on either sides of his hips.

It’s a view he only imagines late at night when it’s just him and his hand, maybe some lotion if he’s lucky to not wake Helmeppo. The lamp illuminates his flustered face as he tries his best to slide out from under you, apologizing profusely and almost knocking you in the face while flailing around.

“Koby,” you say trying to calm him down but he’s visibly panicking and you feel him stiffening under you with each passing second. While he’s been moving like a lune, you’re still on top of him; dress rising above your thighs as your clothed pussy sits above his cock, he doesn’t mean to but it’s rubbing your clit so pleasantly. “Koby, it’s ok, I’m not mad.”

“W-what—” his glasses that are typically resting on his head now lay on his nose. It’s amusing watching a Captain of the marines so discombobulated.

“I said, it’s ok, I’m not mad.” You push his glasses up his face to get a better look at all of him, he’s rock hard and only getting stiffer. “In fact, I’m flattered.”

You lean forward letting your lips rest against his parted ones, looking in his eyes for any sort of hesitation— but that doesn’t last. A hand flies to your curls as he pulls you forward by the hip, you knew he liked you but you didn’t know just how much. His kisses are inexperienced and starved, like he’s been waiting his whole life to have this exact moment with you.

Kobys trying not to bust in his pants at this ‘unfortunate’ situation he’s been dropped into. Not only does he get to be alone with you, he’s quite literally living his fantasy and you want him just as bad. He’s praying his inexperience doesn’t show but he wants to taste you so bad he’ll risk it all.

“Shirt off,” you command, it’s too stuffy for all these layers. Unzipping the top half of your uniform lets your breasts spill out, soft skin illuminated by the glow of the small lamp. He obeys without any sort hesitation, “you listen well Captain.”

The tips of his ears turn pink when you comment on his lack of reluctance, kissing his cheeks and then down the column of his neck as his baited breaths fill the small space.

He’s so pale you’re worried hickies will get him in trouble with Garp but he’s squirming under you as your lips make contact with his neck. He’s tugging on your clothes so needily as if to say, ‘harder please, I can take it,’ and goodness do you want to give it to him. What the hell, that jacket should cover it up.

He sighs pleasurably as you work on him, hissing when you scratch at his unmarred skin. His palms grab the globes of your ass as he rocks your pussy against his dick. He’s panting with his head rolled back too lost in the pleasure. “You wanna fuck me captain? That why you come to my office every week.”

He merely moans, eyebrows pinching together in concentration. The fabric of his pants rub against your clit so deliciously, dry fucking one of the navy’s top officers during a drill wasn’t in your plans today but holy fuck did it ignite something in you.

You kiss him again, slower this time, letting your hips drag harshly against his bulge just to tease him. Tongue creeping against his in a fight to slow the pace before he cums in his pants.

“Want you to fuck me Captain, please, I’ll make you feel good,” you half moan, tugging the hair at the base of his neck. If the devil was whispering in his ear right now, he’d let you take him. He trembles feeling need surge through him like a wave, all at once he needs to bury his dick in you to the hilt.

One problem, he’s never had sex before. The way your body rolls on top of his makes his mind hazy, forgetting all about the drill going on outside. “Not enough space,” he huffs, “just fuck me, I’m yours.” Quick on his feet, not missing a beat.

Now it’s your turn to swoon. He looks so honest when he says it, hearts in his eyes as he holds your hips; squeezing against your skin reassuringly.

Sitting back on his knees you pull your dress over your head, slipping your panties off as the lantern illuminates your curves in a soft glow. Koby watches enamored, forgetting that this is the part where he’s supposed to whip his dick out.

“Am I gonna hurt you? I didn’t touch you or anything.” He’s trying to not just reach out and grab you, in his deepest fantasies he gets to drill you in missionary while you call out his name. However, he knows stretching you open is an important aspect of sex (according to his books).

“You’re sweet, but we’ve gotta be quick.” Hovering over his length you use your own slick to lube his dick up before you’re trying to slink down it. He’s pretty average in length with a slight allowance in girth, and yes the curtains match the drapes.

The burn stings before it fades out into pleasure. “Oh fuck fuck fuck, that feels so good,” he whines, gripping your thighs with uncanny strength that’ll surely leave bruises. You wrap your arms around his neck as your cunt tries to swallow him, softly sighing as he fits you like a puzzle piece. Down and down you go on his thick shaft.

He almost doesn’t know what to do with himself, you sucking him in threatens to make drool spill down his chin. Never in his life did he think something warm and yet simultaneously wet could make his toes curl like this. “S’tight, keep going please.” You’re leaned over his shoulder as you try to catch your breath, ignoring the sounds of footsteps outside as you start to slowly bounce on Captain Kobys cock.

“Makin’ me feel so full already,” you whisper into his ear, digging your nails into his shoulders as you clench around his girth. The tip of his cock’s bullying your cervix with each bounce of your hips. The sound of your ass meeting his lap melds with his whines as he tries to get ahold of himself. Your pussy’s just too good.

“Ah— oh, fuck! Faster faster,” his voice sounds so vulnerable as your gummy walls squeeze him in, he hasn’t moved his hands from strangling your waist. Pushing you down further and further each time you chase his base.

It’s all so good; your hot breath, your moans for him to fuck you deeper, the way you’re holding onto him like you need him. He’s utterly melting, succumbing for some tight cunt. Maybe those navy stories he heard weren’t full of shit.

Koby’s chasing his orgasm, using your body as a toy subconsciously. Your ass in his hands as he spreads your cheeks, forcing himself in your heat that scorches him in a way he can’t get enough of. “So good Captain, don’t stop. I could cum on you just like this,” you say pushing him back against the wall. It’s so desperate and raw, his mouth chases yours in a hot kiss as your hands tangle in his hair.

He moans like a little slut each time his tresses are wrapped around your fingers, saliva connecting his mouth to yours. The fucked out look on his face is priceless. “So handsome, what a good boy you are.” Wiping excess drool that threatens to spill past the corner of his lip as he looks like he’s about to cry. His hips jumping to meet yours as that phrase leaves your mouth.

“Oh you like that?” Such a useful piece of information, “then be a good boy and cum for me.”

The whimper that leaves his throat is guttural, high pitched as it rips through the air. His strong arms work double time to slam you down over and over again like a machine. He finishes inside you as he clutches you to his chest, keeping himself tucked inside your cunny while his cock twitches n coats your walls white.

“So good Koby, jus like that baby.” You’re rolling your hips on his, trying to milk out anything remaining as he gasps from the stimulation.

“Oh no wait, what about you? I’m so sorry—” he doesn’t even let himself pull out of you before he’s speaking a thousand miles a minute. No worries, you have an idea for that.

You both get dressed as you hear the crowds returning, helping him zip up his jacket to cover the already bruising areas of his neck. Koby pulls your dress down over your ass and then some, like he’s your protective boyfriend or something, you just roll your eyes.

Stepping out into the hallway in a sea of people you hold his hand as he walks behind you, slipping into the crowd unnoticed. You forgot to smooth his hair out so he looks like he’s just slept in some crazy position, oops. He’s got this love drunk look on his face as you lead him back to your office and shut the door. Hearts buzzing around him as he follows you, not even an arrow from Cupid could replicate that look. You get some stares here and there, but your cunts throbbing for more so you couldn’t care less.

You place your “Be back soon <3! “ sign on the handle before turning around to find him sitting on your patients table, looking a bit too eager for round two.

“Now Captain, finish what you started. Nurses orders.”

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Reading Tolkien’s annotated translation of Beowulf, and learning all kinds of things about LOTR and the Silm from it!

First:

Leave here your warlike shields [from Beowulf]

[Tolkien’s commentary; bold mine:] Note the prohibition of weapons or accoutrements of battle in the hall. To walk in with spear and shield was like walking in nowadays with your hat on. The basis of these rules was of course fear and prudence among the ever-present dangers of a heroic age, but they were made part of the ritual, of good manners. Compare the prohibition against drawing a sword in the officers’ mess. Swords of course also were dangerous; but they were evidently regarded as part of a knight’s attire, and he would not in any case be willing to lay aside his sword, a thing of great cost and often an heirloom.

This gives me some perspective around Tolkien’s probable intended tone for the moment in Meduseld in The Two Towers where Aragon strongly protests against being told to leave Andúril (a sword of very great value and ancientry, and very much an heirloom) with the door-warden. From a contemporary perspective it’s easy to read it as Aragorn being unnecessarily prideful and combative, but this passage strongly indicates that Tolkien intends it to be Théoden who is being unreasonable in that event, an indication - along with many others in the scene, prior to Gandalf dislodging Saruman’s influence - that Théoden is being discourteous and behaving in a manner unworthy of a king who is recieving heroes offering aid. (The fact of Meduseld being a ‘golden hall’ like famous Heorot in Beowulf may be deliberate to strengthen the parallel.)

Second (immediately following the above commentary):

But against this danger [from swords] very severe laws existed protecting the ‘peace’ of a king’s hall. It was death in Scandanavia to cause a brawl in the king’s hall. Among the laws of the West Saxon king Ine is found: ‘If any man fight in the king’s house, he shall forfeit all his estate, and it shall be for the king to judge whether he be put to death or not.’

This adds context to the incident in the story of Túrin in The Silmarillion where Saeros taunts Túrin in Menegroth and Túrin responds by throwing a heavy drinking-vessel at him and injuring him (it’s indicated the injury is serious, so I’d take it along the lines of him giving him a broken nose and knocking out some teeth.) It is stated in at least some versions of the story that death is the punishment for drawing weapons in the king’s hall, in line with the historical customs mentioned here. This gives a further emphasis that what actually happens - Túrin is not punished at all and Mablung strongly reprimands Saeros for provoking him - illustrates that Túrin is, Saeros’ behaviour notwithstanding, in very high favour in Menegroth. (Saeros as the king’s counsellor is also in roughly the same position as Unferth in Beowulf, who taunts the titular character - Beowulf responds heatedly but without violence. Tolkien may be setting up a deliberate contrast here.)

Third:

The word hádor is an adjective meaning ‘clear, bright’…it is almost always found in reference to the sky (or the sun or stars). But that association is in description of brightness…

This was one a lightbulb moment: oh, in the name of Hador Goldenhead (the ancestor of Húrin, Túrin, and Tuor in The Silmarillion), ‘Goldenhead’ isn’t an additional name/epessë so much as it’s a glossed translation of ‘Hador’! The guy with bright, golden hair.

Fourth: Going back to the Rohirrim - Edoras, the name of their capital city/royal court, is basically just the Old English for ‘courts’:

under was very frequently used in describing position within, or movement to within, a confined space, especially of enclosures or prisons, ‘within four walls’. Cf. in under eoderas (eoderas being the outer fences of the courts), ‘in amid the courts’….‘eoder’ means both ‘fence (protection)’ and ‘fenced enclosure, a court’.

I’m also learning a lot about Beowulf - Tolkien’s notes are clarifying a lot of tone and nuances, not to mention the political/diplomatic relationships between the different kingdoms, which were confusing me - but it’s amazing how much it reveals about ways that Tolkien’s knowledge informed his legendarium!

[ghlawstudent]

1.04.2023

Lazy study day today. Studying procedural law/adjective law.

🎧 Jisoo - Flower

[literaryvein-reblogs]

a list of "troublesome" words

inculcate

To persistently impress a habit upon or belief into another person. You inculcate an idea, not a person:

“My father inculcated me with a belief in democracy”

should be “My father inculcated in me a belief in democracy.”

inveigh, inveigle

Inveigh - to speak strongly against: (“She inveighed against the rise in taxes”)

Inveigle - to entice or cajole: (“They inveigled an invitation to the party”)

irony, sarcasm

Irony - the use of words to convey a contradiction between the literal and intended meanings.

Sarcasm - very like irony except that it is more stinging.

Whereas the primary intent behind irony is to amuse,

with sarcasm, it is to wound or score points.

kudos

”He did not feel he had received the kudos that were his due” (Washington Post).

Kudos - a Greek word meaning fame or glory, is singular.

Thus it should be “the kudos that was his due.”

There is no such thing, incidentally, as one kudo.

languid, limpid

Limpid - clear, calm, untroubled (“a limpid stream”).

It has nothing to do with being limp or listless—meanings that are covered by languid.

laudable, laudatory

Laudable - deserving praise

Laudatory - expressing praise

lawful, legal

In many contexts they can be used interchangeably.

Lawful - permissible under the law (“lawful behavior,” “lawful protest”).

Legal - has that meaning plus the additional sense of “relating to the law,” as in “legal system” and “legal profession.”

lay, lie

”Laying on his back, Dalton used a long exposure of two seconds so as to achieve maximum depth of field” (Photography magazine).

Unless Dalton was producing eggs, he was lying on his back.

Lay and lie, in all their manifestations, are a constant source of errors. There are no simple rules for dealing with them.

You must either commit their various forms to memory or avoid them altogether. The forms are:

LAY ⚜ LIE

Present: I lay the book on the table. ⚜ I lie down; I am lying down.

Past: Yesterday I laid the book on the table. ⚜ Last night I lay down to sleep.

Present Perfect: I have already laid the book on the table. ⚜ I have lain in bed all day.

The most common error is to say, “If you’re not feeling well, go upstairs and lay down.” It should be “lie down.”

lighted, lit

Either is correct.

Lighted, however, is more usual when the word is being used as an adjective (“a lighted torch”).

loath, loathe

Loath - an adjective meaning reluctant,

Loathe - a verb meaning to despise.

luxuriant, luxurious

Not interchangeable, but their meanings sometimes overlap.

Luxuriant - indicates profusion (“luxuriant hair”).

Luxurious - sumptuous and expensive (“a luxurious house”).

A luxuriant carpet is a shaggy one;

a luxurious carpet is an expensive one.

Source ⚜ Writing Basics & Refreshers ⚜ On Grammar & Vocabulary

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍

# with trafalgar law.

the heir to a throne had taken a liking to you — and law takes it upon himself to mark you his.

⎰ & KINKTOBER, day eleven. smut (mdni!). hate!sex. choking. possessive!law. biting. marking. mentions of blood. shower!sex. dom!law. afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 2.3k.

one could mention beyond one dozen fear-stricken adjectives when it came to the surgeon of death. sadistic, ruthless, cruel. the one to rearrange your limbs, to tear your beating heart off your chest and sell to whoever paid more. strangers trembled at the mention; lower-ranks marines were advised to not engage. law was but a monstrous criminal to most, a force to be reckoned with. to his crewmates, he lost partial sharpness, for he was but cap — strict, strategical, cunning, with a preference for solitude more often than not ignored by said boisterous subordinates. to you, he was law. a passionate, yet cold, individual — as though white flame. wielder of neutral facade that hid a habit of collecting coins; an excitement over illustrated, super-hero stories. zelous glances; fleeting brushes of fingers. love explicit through palid eyes, the mirror to his soul with your name all but engraved on it.

a commonly chosen adjective, agreed regardless of those who spoke, was that trafalgar law was thoroughly unlucky. which had been shown a fair amount of times through his journey at sea, one of them right in that instance.

it was supposed to be a common, brief, re-stocking period. when considering the increasing bounty on his head, law being the one assigned to stay-at-ship, caring for it rather than venturing through the streets, was understandable — advisable, even. whenever the captain was in need of particulars, he’d write it down and entrust you with the task of buying it all for a fair price. bepo acted as both a companion and an escort, and said routine had been settled for such a prolonged period that neither of you had expected law to leave later on that day. as capable as he was, captains had first-mates for a reason, and as a result of his stubborn nature, law suffered a combined attack from the kingdom’s security force, which culminated in his capture altogether.

the promise of the marines’ arrival had the crew on edge, desperately seeking for a route to the palace’s dungeon, yet finding none. the solution, however, fell from the skies — or rather you had thrown yourself in its arms. a naive prince, wielder of a bleeding heart and with quite a haste to fall in love. it had taken neither effort nor time to sway him off his feet, a golden crown wrapped around your criminal-esque finger. the man had taken you for a sweet commoner, enlightened at the idea of meeting one who was not royal, and after proper wording you had him at your feet within the midday.

you were showered in jewelry; poems; promises. he demanded a song to be written in your honor and defended you to whoever dared meddle. by the end of the afternoon, you had managed to successfully convince him to escort you to the dungeons — oh, my brave knight! —, for you were ever-so-curious to see the terrible surgeon of death, chained and set to execution. the prince had no time to react — too busy bragging — when you knocked both him and the guard off, stealing the keys and freeing your lover within the second.

law was revolted at your recklessness, yet curious as to how you had managed to get an audience in the dungeon. regardless, the flame of rage dimmed down into an endless, dark pit of hatred when the pair of you managed to escape and run towards the polar tang ashore. as it seemed, you were far too successful in your seducing, for now the guards followed-in-suit, shouting at each other and informing that the surgeon of death kidnapped the prince’s bride. to make matters worse, a celebratory festival was arranged and thrown, exploding fireworks announcing the incoming marriage.

law grew quieter; deadlier. he sliced whichever guard dared to come in between the route of your escape, and once the tang, at last, submerged, he was in such a mood that no crewmate had enough courage to approach him, rather focusing on the urgent task of fleeing. you weren’t given the privilege of shying away from his wrath, for a room, followed-in-suit by a shambles, had you locked in his chambers the second thereafter.

he scanned your figure, face contorting in both disgust and non-contained possessiveness. you were adorned in gold from head-to-toe, courtesy of the prince. the silken dress you wore, expensive and brand new. law prided himself in the jumpsuits the others’ wore — chest embroidered with the symbol of his crew, a lingering reminder to the external that their loyalty laid with him. yet, with you — his lover —, said jumpsuit had him growing twice as territorial; twice as prideful. he used to smirk at the thought of lustful men and women alike, cowering at the sight of the symbol you proudly displayed, retreating in fear for they knew you were his. his to protect; to adore; to touch. not the bride of a prince so incompetent he could neither sway a sword nor differentiate west from east. not a queen, but a pirate — his pirate.

at last, however, law had grown envious. the submarine’s temperature was erratic, oftentimes freezing, yet prone to insufferable warmth, depending on the sea’s conditions. those jumpsuits, although unfashionable, unflattering, had a purpose — to guarantee the comfort and safety of his crew. you feigned indifference, but he never once missed your lingering glance at the outfits worn by the straw-hat’s crew during the alliance. you, too, wished for that, and the context of being a heart pirate did not allow it. there you stood, wearing a dress gifted by another man, shining with the jewelry of his family. it made law’s entire being flare with revolt, and as if that hadn’t been enough, the scent of that prince was smeared all over your skin, causing his own to itch. treacherous thoughts a haze of unwanted images, the sight of that man hugging your shoulders; hunched over you; breath fanning over your face.

perhaps that had been the price to pay for his request for discretion; for the desperate — and unnecessary — grip he had on his privacy. your skin was unmarked, untraced. he never dared bite, never thought useful to apply perfume. no wonder that royal blood believed you free for the taking. law would need to fix that.

if he were a decent man, he would have spared the time to appreciate your efforts; to thank you for going through such lengths to save his life. yet law had not an ounce of gratitude to spare, for he cared more for the claim of your life than for the maintenance of his own.

“did you have fun?” he inquired, drawing pleasure from your wariness, shrinking as though a cornered prey. law grimaced at his approach, bitter as the prince’s perfume invaded his nostrils. “was it enjoyable being pampered while i rotted in a cell?”

your eyes widened, lips parted in shock. “of course not! i was worried sick—”

“don’t interrupt me,” law snapped, struggling to control his breathing.

it was unusual for him to behave in such an angered state, logic thrown aside for the sake of raw emotion. he was not an untamed beast of uncontrollable impulses; he was the patient feline who sent his prey to the edge of despair before offering them the sweet reprieve of death. law was not some half-assed hound who pounded without appreciating what had been given; he was not the damned eustass kid. yet, perhaps the bastard had a point — not that law would ever admit that out loud.

law kicked the small trash can straight into your feet, his eyes boring into yours. “throw it away.”

your fingers wrapped themselves around the clasp of the necklace you wore, and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, gripping the cleavage of your dress. “this one first.”

you complied, scanning him through worried eyes. law drowned in the sight of silk slipping from your shoulders to the ground, fluid fabric wavering in its descent as though a cascate of liquid, pale fire. law hated it. once he was done with you, he’d set that dress aflame with not a care for the stench whatsoever. you hunched over to grab the silk and throw it in the trash as has been instructed, yet law placed a firm hand on the crown of your head when you began to rise to your feet, forcing your knees to meet the ground.

you looked at him through your eyelashes, and his cock all but throbbed at the sight. “law—”

“why are you still with those jewels on? i told you to take it off,” he interrupted, tethering his glance to your cleavage. the lingerie set had not been altered — lacy, beige — one he had gifted to you. your hand went to the bracelet at your wrist, concentrated eyes glued to the piece. “who told you to stop looking at me?”

you shivered, careful when returning your gaze up to his face. the golden band fell onto the can, the round, diamond encrusted earrings following-in-suit. your fingers struggled with the clasp of the necklace, and law grunted with delight at the sight, aroused by your frustration. the star pendant fell into your cleavage, and had it been gifted by him, law would have commanded you to retrieve it with your teeth. but there mere thought of you doing it so in that instance had him seething.

“hurry up,” he barked, revolted with his own thoughts. you were swift — borderline desperate — in the act, throwing it out with a willingness that had him grunting in approval. “on your feet.”

despite having emerged to your full height, you shrunk under the pressure of his gaze, hugging your frame with uncertainty. law wanted to caress your cheek and spread your arms; scold you for depriving him of the sight of your breasts and abdomen, while comforting you on his desire altogether. yet, the scent lingered as though the remnant of a pest on one’s skin. law refused to give in to the urges to ravage you; to touch you as your gleaming eyes begged him to. but you would not leave without a lesson learned.

law teleported the pair of you to the bathroom, pointing towards the shower. “turn it on and stand underneath it.”

a cascade of water was bestowed upon you, soaking the fabric of your lingerie until it left nothing to the imagination. two minutes were required for it to heat up, yet law had no mercy whatsoever, forcing you to withstand the freezing liquid as he stood steps further, stripping himself without haste. vapor swirled around the room, covering inches of your flesh. your trembling stopped, and though law approached with his body bare, cock slapped against his stomach, you remained with the lingerie, for he hadn’t — and wouldn’t — order you to remove it. that had been his gift to you, and law would fuck you numb in it.

his tattooed hand closed around your neck, not quite squeezing it, yet. your head was angled as in a way to have your eyes glued to his own. “where were you touched?”

“waist,” you mumbled, ashamed. “sometimes he hugged my shoulders, too, but he’d rather have his hand on my waist.”

his pupils dilated, tempers rising. you gasped at the strength of his grip, wasting your reserve of air in a single act. law felt the wild pulse of your pressure point, crescent pace beating against the palm of his hand. underneath bone and flesh and muscle, caged amidst ribs, rested a heart whose surface that prince hadn’t touched, for that inch of you was his. every breath you took, every contraction of your heart, belonged to him. those wide, lust-coated eyes were his, as were the hardened nipples, trembling legs and awaiting lips.

law smashed his mouth against yours, more an act of violence than a kiss itself. his teeth dug into flesh, drawing blood from your lower lip, allowing it to drip down your chin. law hummed to himself at the sight, before he pushed you against the wall, ignoring the echo of your head meeting the ceramic. his canines were dragged on your shoulders, nose buried in. he hummed half-approvingly, for the water had expelled the most prominent aspects of the insufferable perfume — not nearly enough. law bit on every inch of your shoulder, steel grip unmoving on your throat, with not a care for your lack of air in your lungs. if you fell unconscious, the shower and his cock would eventually bring you back.

crystalline water merged with specks of dripping blood, soothing tongue licking your fresh wounds. law pressed himself against you, rolling his hips in order to be granted an ounce of friction. your eyes were rolled, maimed waist bearing the marks of his fingers. the grip on your neck loosened, for you could neither moan nor beg without proper breathing.

the white of his smile was tainted crimson when he smirked at you, digging his nails into your waist. “were you enjoying his attention? the festival had beautiful fireworks, wouldn’t you agree?”

his taunts fell on deaf ears. your eyes were filled with tears that dared not fall, your voice rough. the golden collar wrapped around your throat had been replaced by the mark of his fingers.

“i don’t know,” you croaked out, hissing ever-so-slightly at the wound left on your lower lip. “i was staring at you the whole time.”

his anger faltered ever-so-slightly, cock twitching at the confession. for an instance, the bathroom was filled with nothing but the steady sound of the shower and your shallow breathing. until law pressed his mouth against yours with enough strength to have your head hitting the wall behind yet again, clashing teeth; tongue forcing itself inside. he swallowed your mewl, grunting as his shaft pressed itself against you; rutting hips, dragging the tip around the slick flesh.

“law, please,” you begged, choking on your words. sadistic bastard of considerable strength. he stole the air off your lungs, yet demanded you to speak. words but a meek plea, strained and pathetic. “fuck me, please.”

“who do you belong to?” he demanded, teasing your entrance with his leaking tip.

“you,” he dug his teeth into your shoulders, squeezing your neck. his eyes spoke when words failed him; narrowed slits demanding for more. “i’m yours, yours!”

he grunted, shoving his cock inside. law increased the pressure on your neck, muffled moans sending vibrations through your skin as he slid in — base to the tip; balls slapping your ass. his tip assaulted your g-spot, hardened nipples sliding onto his chest. the angle itself was odd; challenging. your back slipped, and your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, offering him a better angle and chance to support your weight. you let out a strangled, desperate moan when his tip forced itself deeper, a ruthless pace that gave neither of you enough time to form a coherent thought.

law retreated from your shoulder in order to catch a glimpse of your face. water had united some of your eyelashes; your lips were swollen where he bit it; your eyes were facing a losing battle against consciousness. he had never seen a prettier sight.

your legs trembled, muted sounds pointing out to the approach of your bliss. law threw his head back to witness it in its full glory, snapping his hips with particular strength, holding a moan at the sensation of your walls — tightening; caging him. when you came, spurs of white smeared the pool of water underneath, law picked up his pace, torturing your abused cunt as he selfishly seeked out his own bliss.

law was a doctor. he did not fall into the spectrum of irresponsible individuals who thought themselves acquitted to the effects of unprotected sex. he had a fair stash of condoms well-hidden and set for usage, and if he ever were to run out of it, either your stomach, tits or face were chosen to be smeared with his cum. however, after the previous demonstration of desire from another, law grew territorial. his cock was yet sheltered within your walls when he reached his high, smearing your insides with his essence and grunting in the process of it all — knowing that you were his; that it was your tight, demanding cunt who milked him dry. his hand raised from your throat to caress your cheeks with an affection at odds with his past behavior.

you were soaked; exhausted. with his load lodged inside, traces of his teeth on your maimed shoulder. you would be sore in the morning, and the collar of his fingers would linger for at least a week. not the bride of a prince — rather the treasure of a pirate.

— 🐈‍⬛ : i should NOT be allowed to write this man. happy kinktober friday!

[duckbunny]

listen to me. listen to me. I am taking your hand. I am looking into your eyes. That's how serious I am about this:

Writing advice is not holy writ.

you do not have to do exegesis on "show don't tell". you don't have to justify yourself under its sacred law. you don't have to work yourself around thirteen different leaps of logic to make "show don't tell" mean "do exactly as much telling as you feel like". you can just say:

I am not following that advice today.

and you can tell and not show, and nobody can stop you, and you are not committing any sin.

You do not have to show-not-tell. You do not have to kill your darlings. You do not have to delete all your adjectives or avoid all adverbs or never say "said" or always say "said". You do not have to explain how killing your darlings really means this other thing.

Sometimes the advice you decide not to follow might have made your work stronger. That's fine. You can learn from that. But you don't have to justify yourself as if you were following that advice all along.

It's writing advice. You can disagree with it. You can ignore it. It is not your God.

[eamour]

method · using subliminals

today, we are talking about subliminals. believe it or not, subliminals are what actually brought me to the law of attraction and later on the law of assumption. they are already used by a large number of people, even those who don’t necessarily believe in any law.

definition

subliminal (adjective) refers to something that cannot be recognised or understood by the conscious mind but still manages to influence the subconscious. a subliminal message, for example, can only be perceived by you without you having notice or being aware of it.

in a spiritual context, subliminals (noun) signify sounds, often music with underlying positive affirmations.

intention

the purpose of subliminals is to sway your beliefs in a certain direction or change them entirely. a subliminal that purposely tries to persuade you subconsciously into believing something which you find hard to believe in consciously. in short, listening to subliminals helps you "reprogram" your mind.

how to listen

you can listen to a subliminal with your headphones, your earphones, on your phone, on your laptop, on your tablet,… all variants are just as influential.

when and where to listen

when and where you listen to a subliminal is entirely up to you. it depends on your beliefs. the moment you think you need to listen to them for them to help you manifest or materliase your desire, that’s when you should listen to them. there is no fixed time or place. you can listen whenever you want, wherever you want.

how often to listen

how often you listen to a subliminal is also entirely up to you. you can listen to one subliminal the entire a day, two subliminals at the same time, listen overnight, while doing your chores, make a playlist for the day, create a time frame for when to listen or listen to it only once — you decide! again, there is no fixed amount of times. you listen as many times as you wish to.

what to listen to

you can find subliminals on various platforms! mostly, they are free and on youtube. there, you can follow your favourite subliminal channels, create playlists and listen/loop them. you may also find subliminals on spotify, apple music, soundcloud, etc.

why it works

it doesn’t matter how many times you listen to a subliminal, how intense you listen to it or where you do it. the only thing that matters is your overall mental attitude. while listening to the sub, all you have to do is to accept its promised results to make it "work" for you. keyword: belief. belief creates and helps creating. your only job is to decide you have your desire and persist in that. for example, you could assume that you get your desires while listening to the sub and full results after listening to the entire playlist. or maybe you get full results by just listening to the first second of the sub? your rules apply only.

with love, ella.

[jarofstyles]

Illicit Masterlist- completed

il•lic•it

adjective

forbidden by law, rules, or custom

Or, Harry is trapped in a contract, he’s found the love of his life, and fidelity was not a clause.

Featuring- asshole!Harry, I hate everyone but you, old money, no regard for other’s feelings, I’ll burn the world for you, bratty socialites, broken cameras, exhibitionistic tendencies, hidden lake houses, and forbidden love

Warnings- 18+, nsfw, cheating (with y/n), old money and wealth, Harry is a dick for real, smut (choking, cockwarming, breeding, exhibitionism, daddy kink, more to come)

💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💎💎💎

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

[harmonysanreads]

La Follia

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Yandere!Sylus x Reader

cw(s) : yandere, coercion, implied murder, implications of forced marriage, one mention of blood, guns, imbalanced power dynamics.

「 words : 800+ 」 「 art credits 」

· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ This... is not the fic idea I said I had in my wips but somehow we ended up here anyway ^^;

Before signing any document, it is crucial to carefully read its contents.

Not this one though. Your spite digs its talons into the pen, glaring at the offending piece of paper its situated against. The strings of legal ruminations and dry wordplay are irrelevant, unnecessary and jeeringly useless before your present predicament. Your eyes would rather bleed than capture their meaning.

Vague phantoms taunt your periphery, specks of dust rising from litanies of codicies towards the flickering lightbulb make it impossible to forget your environment. The state of a government office ; a place to admonish rules and keep the reputation of the constitution flowing — he has no need to adhere to them.

Redundant cannot even hope to describe the absurdity of the situation, in fact, you think you're at a stage of mental stupefaction that no adjective can. Perhaps it would carry some semblance of logic had it been a toddler instead of a conscious adult conducting this ridiculous show.

A show, yes, yes — it is nothing but an impromptu drama. To dig and imbibe the fact into your and everyone else's heads, that the leader of Onychinus has the luxury, the power to carry out even the most nonsensical whims.

Why shouldn't it be possible? In a world dictated through strength, governed by the fittest and where history is written for posterity in hopes of conditioning them to sing the greatness of those who won, you suppose something like this isn't all that irrational.

Supposing now, all things considered, that none of this is illogical in the grand scheme of things. In fact, should the so-called strong decide that it is completely normal, acceptable even to hold a gun to another's head, push them to a stack of papers and shove a pen to finalize some joke of a matrimony — it would be deemed appropriate, because it is the one with the might who has thought so.

But what it wouldn't be, is fair ; another hapless notion that can be discarded easily with the universal knowledge that nothing ever is fair in this world.

You peer through your lashes to the unfortunate clerk that had the fortune of witnessing this hilarity. He tries his best to maintain a semblance of professionalism and fails effortlessly, if the way he toys with the silver-band around his ring finger is anything to go by. Your eyes shift to the picture frame kept with care at one corner of the desk, the innocent smiles of figures who you assume to be his family almost make your heart ache.

Marriage. Coveted, anticipated, so beautiful in its purest form yet the causation of so many miseries. You would've never thought it could be ridiculed to this degree before this day.

You don't need to look beside you to picture his amusement, fascinated at how the clerk appears as though he's seeing his every wrong doing and each moment of joy play out before his eyes despite it being you with a weapon pointed at your head.

There is no rationality behind the demand of marriage by a man who dwells in a land governed by the rule of no rules, no explanation as to why he saunters into this establishment and insists that it be finalized through legalese furthermore.

No, no, it is but to prove to your stubborn self — see and witness what I can do should I desire, I can adhere to law and trample upon it according to my whim. Will you still deny me, still deem me beneath you after this?

You will, if just to push his patience to its last hinges. You know very well this is all just a game to him. If Sylus truly desired to end your life, he wouldn't need a measly gun to do it.

You count the beats of time and construse your own schemes, searching for exits from this doomed playground and wander right into his trap.

“Can’t bring yourself to do it?” the purr is close, too close for your comfort. The tip of the pen shines as it tilts in response to your loosened clasp, sharp, you note ; pointed enough to pierce through an eye and dash away a few paces.

“Need some encouragement? Yes? No? Maybe so? You could've just said it instead of glaring at the poor paper.” the cold muzzle retracts from the side of your head but the heat of its presence remains.

The clerk's pupils are clear enough to reflect the panic that paints your face. The pen drops from your grasp, rolling across the papers and the worn out wood of the table ; gravity pulling it closer to the earth till it hits the tiled floor, splattering the crimson pooling around the surface.

The warmth of the hand that forced the weapon to your hand swiftly withdraws, your vision clears to the coldness of the gun in your clutch, the silence that follows the bullet's release nearly deafens your ears.

You hear the devil's whisper, “Now you and I are equal, no? As such, there should be no further excuses preventing you from marrying this monster.”

It would've been a taunt only some seconds ago, but now, it has become an irrefutable fact. No matter how cunning, how stubborn, the weak will always be controlled by the strong.

[anaargent]

You know season 4 yeah it was bad, and it made me so angry😭😭 and I want revenge, (delulul) so can you right something where reader finds out of five cheating on her, and her getting her little revenge, thank you (≧▽≦) (sorry if my grammar sucks)

Girl I totally loved this, hope you like it. contains slight suggestion of Diego x reader

MARRY MY HUSBAND

You sigh as you take another sip of the whiskey that Five had methodically stocked in your shared apartment. The thought makes you sick, your Five... or it was before his silent betrayal. You were fine, happy and unaware of the passionate acts of Five, your work and life partner, with none other than Lila, your sister-in-law, and a friend you held dear.

Oblivious to all of this until a few weeks ago, when you noticed that Five and Lila's days off had been modified, while you thought he was in some long-term affair, you did the obvious, investigated. But nothing prepared you for the scene you witnessed, a Five affectionately holding his sister-in-law in his arms, a sweet smile on his face as he gently rocked her in a restaurant, YOUR favorite restaurant, in the neighboring city. It was adorable, such a beautiful scene of two lovebirds in love.

You came up with crazy ideas to get revenge on the jerk, including throwing Five's body into the Seine River, to a simpler one like kicking his ass.

...

And here you were, at Diego's door, ready to use him as a pawn to knock Five off his damn pedestal "Holla, y/n! Where's Five?" Diego opens the door and smiles warmly. You were ready to manipulate your brother-in-law, but he was in front of you, pathetic as he wore a jellybean necklace, his hair was parted in two messy pigtails and his black outfit was covered in purple glitter "come in, come in, we were in the middle of an afternoon tea, you'll love it" he pulls you inside while three agitated children corner you with cute little eyes.

Five liked you for being calculating, rational and other adjectives that he saw as ideal in a partner, you considered yourself an equal. You bet he would take back his compliments when he saw you bent over in a small chair with an imaginary cup of tea.

After an endless afternoon, the little angels fell asleep from exhaustion "Thanks for helping with the mess, and sorry for dragging you into this" Diego says as he finishes cleaning up the mess in the living room "I wouldn't have the energy for the three of them alone"

"Don't thank me, they're so cute"you smile melancholy as you see the three children piled up, Gracie holding the twins protectively "Five and Lila are having an affair" you blurt out before you can explode with guilt.

You stare at Diego, the air tense as you watch the man's grateful species turn from confused to disbelieving "what?" he laughs incredulously.

" They...they're together"you look away from Diego, unable to maintain a rational facade as you watch Diego process everything. A pang of guilt hits you "I needed to tell you, I want to end that bastard...but I need you to agree, you have more to lose than I do"you say and see Diego look at his children, his lips in a thin line.

" Please go home y/n, it's already late" Diego sounds as polite as possible.

" I'll go... think about it" you say before leaving silently.

...

That was a few weeks ago, no sign of Diego. Five would come and spend a few days, always formal and distant as he talked about the cases he was working on, nonsense and more lies.

Then Diego was at your door, in the middle of the night, panting as if he had run a marathon, soaked from the torrential rain that was falling outside "Holla y/n" he tries to smile as you pull him inside.

"Are you crazy? You're going to catch a cold, come in, come in" you guide him to the living room and get a towel, quickly wrapping it around him.

" It was my fault, s/n" he says, trembling, you look at him, lost "Lila and Five... I... Lila wasn't happy, it was too much... the kids... work... the routine, she told me she was tired, I didn't hear her, I was only thinking about myself and the kids, I should have paid attention to her " he says everything at once, his shoulders still shaking from the cold, his voice weak, you didn't know if it was from the rain or emotional.

"Hey, hey" you try to sound affectionate, having no experience in supporting anyone, you sounded kind of robotic -but you tried, that's what counts, right? - "Come here" you pull him into a hug, it was clumsy and kind of strange, you didn't make physical contact with people, but Diego didn't seem to mind as he held you closer and sniffed softly " They betrayed us, Diego, you're a wonderful father. Routine hits everyone, but it's no excuse to stab anyone in the back" you patted his back.

" about your plan.."Diego steps away and looks at you, looking more composed, although his eyes were red "I'm in, what do I do?"

You try to contain the devilish smile that forms on your lips " All your little brother loves most is power.. I think he loves it more than his own family, we're going to take away his position at the FBI.

"But how are you going to do that? He's not like a Shellock from there?"

"he's...distracted" you try not to sound too suggestive of the fact that your boyfriend and his wife were, maybe at that exact moment, fucking each other " it means that his cases are open, he has a case, a big and old one, nobody solved it, I helped him with some clues. If someone solves the case, he loses the position he wanted" you smile and settle into the couch.

"okay... but who's going to solve it?" Diego asks, after a moment of silence he laughs, the first one you've seen in so many days, you missed that smile.

" You always wanted to go in there, Five never sent the letters Diego.."- Maybe it was a low blow, but you needed Diego by your side -

" what?" he asks looking disappointed, then gives a bitter laugh " I don't know why I still waited for him to really believe that I could get into the FBI"

"you have potential Diego" you pat his shoulder -were your comforting techniques better? " and you're going to walk into that damn office with a solved case"

You shake hands, smile and nod, sealing the little deal between you.

...

"What's going on here?"Five opens the doors aggressively, his irritated expression causing you immense pleasure even more when you notice Lila towing beside him.

You smile sweetly at your partner and your friend, walking towards then with your hands behind your back - someone solved the Alien case, everyone is impressed. Did you guys meet at the entrance? How great that we are all together"

"What? How? Who? - He cut the subject and looks around, examining the people, then looks at you again, suspicion filling his eyes " What did you do, s/n?" He approaches like an animal ready to tear its prey apart.

" Me? Nothing my dear, I would never do anything... behind your back, we're partners, right? No lies like you always tell me" you smile, seeing him narrow his eyes. It was worth every hour spent with Diego to solve that damn case, nothing would take away from you the sweet taste of seeing Five Hargreeves fall from the highest pedestal he placed himself on.

A part of you was still hurt, it was years of partnership, were you just a pastime for him? Didn't it mean anything? Before you could sink into the spiral of self-humiliation, Diego appeared with a huge smile

"oh Little brother, my dear wife, you didn't tell me you were in the secret service too, what an incredible knowledge. it's good to have all you here, it seems that we are now coworkers. I know we will get along well, don't pressure me too much, I'm new to this whole chief detective thing, but y/n was very kind and will accompany me until I adjust to the position - he puts an arm around your shoulders, the two of you watch with delight as Five and Lila finally realizes what was happening

Pt2:

https://www.tumblr.com/anaargent/763005744864985088/can-we-get-a-pt2-for-marry-my-husband-where-diego?source=share