#and he doesn’t place pressure on her to find a husband when she gets older

[hetagrammy]

hi it’s me again, sorry, may I ask in the regency au how Arthur’s siblings reacted to the kids? Because 1-2 bastard children, understandable, things happen; at least he’s being responsible and taking care of them. But four?

Oh they were pissed when he came home with Ralph and Eleanor. Arthur left home either right before or shortly after Matthew had been sent to live with them. Unlike Alfred, who had been there since he was a baby, Matthew didn’t come to England until he was two and it was a BIG adjustment for him. This is a big reason why he’s slightly more attached to Alasdair as a father figure. So Arthur already has these two children at home, one of whom he really hasn’t met properly. And then he comes back with two more from halfway across the world.

Part of it is about the family’s reputation, because for someone who constantly claims to have the family in mind, Arthur isn’t giving them a good look. The only reason Arthur really does have a chance in society is because he has had such a good naval career and is admired for it. Typical Arthur hypocrisy, but he makes up for it and they can live with that.

The big part is that they could recognize Arthur was fucking up other people’s lives trying to outrun his own pain. Mothers of these children aside, their focus is on the kids themselves. Molly almost lost it on Arthur the first time one of his kids called her “mama,” because the circumstances of their births directly deprived them of that. Matthew’s whole situation is what pissed off Alasdair. Eleanor is the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

Boys are one thing. Bastard or not, they can learn a trade and become respectable in that sense. They can be independent. A girl does not have that luxury. Add on top of that Eleanor is not just a girl, but she’s also biracial. In having her, Arthur has damned her to a life with few prospects. Let’s not get it twisted, they love Eleanor to bits, but they are infuriated at Arthur for the lot he’s given her.

Arthur bringing them home culminated in a huge fight. We’re talking even Alwyn is visibly upset. By the point he got home he’d already started thinking about being a more present father, but they demanded it. Alwyn and Alasdair essentially sat him down and made him actually make plans for things like trusts for the boys and a dowry for Eleanor. Molly didn’t speak to him for a week. Seán kept finding excuses to get out of the house to be away from him.

However, the bright spot in all of this was that for the first time in a while, Arthur was actually home. And the only people excited for him to be there were his kids. Alfred adored Arthur already, and he was dragging a still cautious Matthew along with him. He’d already been at sea with the two younger children, and it was up to him to help Ralph adjust, because it wasn’t easy for him. He had the time to develop enough of a bond with his children that made him realize “Oh God, I actually have to be responsible.” As he realized this and started to take charge independently, things cooled down and a routine was settled into.

Now of course, within the next year he’s running off to fight in the Peninsular Wars. He doesn’t magically become a perfect father by any means. However, he agrees to stop taking such long tours at sea and sticks to European waters. He starts considering settling down, hence why he eventually gets engaged to Emma. He writes to his children more consistently when he is at sea and occasionally sends them things. He also starts whoring around less, and is more careful when he does. It just took him having a Come to Jesus moment with the rest of the family to actually get to that point. There’s still conflict there because he still does have these absences, but it hasn’t come to a head like it did when he first brought home Ralph and Eleanor.

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [ DEVOTION… PT.1 ]

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[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SLIGHT AGE GAP ] + [ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ] + [ BREEDING KINK ] - ( there’s a lot to unpack in this one, I know, but you’ll enjoy it.. also pls kindly lmk the artist for the fanart I used so I can tag them thx! )

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Alastor Hartifelt was a fantastic husband.

No one could deny that.

Especially not his darling wife of one year and counting.

You, his sole companion during childhood, dawning from a rich family that occupied an estate near his family’s plot of farming land, and exceptionally infatuated with him early into your friendship.

From the very first time you met him out in the sprawling green meadows of Louisiana’s swamped countryside you found comfort in each other even amidst being ignored or teased by other children.

Their shared hatred and resentment towards you and the older boy cultivated an odd but strong bond between you two, and soon your strife to fit in seemed less appealing than being his truest friend.

Alastor immediately became protective of you, finding your shy nature welcoming like his own mothers, but also irritated by those who wished you harm for the simple fact that your family was better off than their own.

If anyone dared to pick a fight, tease, or berate you Alastor was right there to come to your aid. You’d tell him time and time again that fighting for you wasn’t worth it, that seeing him hurt wounded you more than their words, but for some baffling reason he’d never head your pleas.

Why?…

In retrospect Alastor wasn’t sure of the reason himself but he was certain it had something to do with the way you returned the favor by protecting him in your own subtle ways.

Your arms remained wide open when he needed an embrace, voice full of tender understanding when the two of you held quiet conversations late into the evening, and generally being his safe place when the rest of the world refused to be.

You were his darling from the very beginning…

His everything…

Yet, Alastor wouldn’t dare say it aloud..,

The two of you couldn’t be more different to those who observed your relationship from the outside. Alastor held an air of confidence wherever he went, suave, and well mannered. He could be cunning when provoked, dangerously charming to get his way, and refreshingly decisive under any amount of pressure.

A man every woman in New Orleans wanted, craved even, but it was well known the famous radio host had you at his side.

You, the city’s undisputed princess, daughter of a wealthy businessman, but regarded as the furthest thing from a ‘spoiled brat’. It was expected for those in higher circles to have sour and condescending attitudes but you proved to be different. Soft spoken, interested in the arts more than being out on the town, and some might’ve considered you ‘sheltered’ in terms of upbringing.

The contrast between Alastor and yourself brought about many whispered rumors and questions.

“How’d a sweet little thing like her end up with him?”

“Doesn’t he want someone better suited? Whats so special about her?”

“I hear, he married her for the fathers money. Don’t blame him for it either…she’s a real peach…”

“A little young for him don’t you think? She’s a lovely broad though…”

You’d heard it all. Every sort of rumor or piece of gossip people had to offer you’d picked up on rather quickly and at first it bothered you, but overtime seeing Alastor act indifferent to the scandalous comments made you less weary of them.

He’d never entertain the scrutiny, choosing to remind you his decision to marry wasn’t fueled by any ill will and as his wife you’d never need to worry about him caring for you.

Alastor’s always had, even when he’d left New Orleans to build his career he still thought of you from time to time, but that’s all he’d ever done.

Cared for you…

Love seemed to allude his spectrum of emotions and vocabulary. Yes, he shows you affection, buying expensive gifts, making sure you never lifted a finger for anything other than cleaning or cooking when needed, and proudly showing you off on his arm at parties and social events he attended.

Yes, he strived to hide his murderous tendencies, taking extra lengths to shield you from his ‘hunting’ escapades by planning them weeks before, and then going as far as discreetly cleaning his bloody clothes and weapons the night he returns while you slept soundly in your shared bed.

Alastor took great care in showing you he cared but defining his love for you was never addressed.

Not even on your wedding day.

It was as if he’d scripted his vows to say nothing of the emotion and even avoided saying “I love you” back when you’d accidentally let it slip out during your own speech for him.

You hadn’t pressed the issue at all, knowing Alastor struggled with concepts of intimacy and devotion since childhood, but the lmawing teeth of doubt pricked your skin harder with each passing day of your marriage.

Had you made a mistake agreeing to marry him?

Was he seeing someone else?

Someone knowledgeable of the world, maybe more experienced in life than you were, or more attentive?

Was she prettier?

Were you not his kind of woman?

Where did he go so late at night, at random times of the month, with a leather bag in his hand and a wide smile on his face?…

Had Alastor been seeing another woman for a whole year and you were just too oblivious or infatuated to notice?

Did he even like you anymore? Could he ever love you…?

Were you not enough for him?

Thoughts plagued your mind constantly, causing you to be quieter than usual, and less receptive to Alsstors lingering presence.

Your back was to him, giving a good veiw of your small frame as you cooked in the large kitchen. The familiar sight brought a smile to Alastor’s face. You were so focused, hair tied back by a white silk bow, and a sheer floor length robe to match.

He’d bough both for you only a week prior, claiming he couldn’t just let the items sit in the display window when you’d been staring at with such bright stars in your eyes, but in truth Alastor had imagined you wearing it just as you were now and couldn’t resist buying it on the spot.

Your husband remained silent as he watched you waltz around the kitchen, chocolate brown eyes peering over the top of his glasses as he did, but his smile faltering seeing the distress in your delicate features.

You weren’t the type to frown often, always emitting warmth and sweetness, so the rare appearance of anguish in your expression perplexed Alastor.

What had upset his darling wife?

Who would he have to kill?….

Asking what was troubling you would surely give him answers to both questions.

He stepped forward, coming from round the corner to enter the kitchen fully before striding over to stand by your side as you began to mix what he assumed was dessert in a bowl.

Albeit, he was probably right knowing you had a vicious sweet tooth.

“Strawberry cake I presume?” Alastor finally speaks, making his presence known with a cheeky remark, and you nearly jump out of your skin hearing his silky voice resonate around the room.

Your head snaps up to look at him, eyes wide with slight surprise, but they quickly soften as he smiles. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as he steps closer, initiating his usual habit of brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before kissing your temple gently, and only pulling away when you squeak out a greeting back to him.

“H-hi Al…you’re home a bit earlier than I expected…” you swallow thickly, staring at him adoringly for a moment before lowering your gaze as tinges of guilt build in you. “I’m sorry dinner isn’t quite ready yet…” you whisper, feeling shameful, and more agitated with yourself than before. Alastor had and would never berate you, unlike most men of the time he saw no benefit in treating his wife like a slave, and made an effort to remind you not everything had to be perfect.

“It’ s alright, darling. You needn’t rush yourself,” his voice is low, simmering with reassurance as he lifts your chin with his thumb and pointer finger. You smile nervously as your eyes meet his again, his touch firm and electrifying all at once, and your tummy doing several flips when he smiles back at you.

Alastor studies your face, attempting to pinpoint the source of your masked sadness, “You seem…troubled, sweetheart. Is there something wrong?” His genuine question brings a shock to your heart, tongue going numb as you race to think of a believable reason for your dampened mood, “I…I just had a little mishap with this cake batter is all!..”

You step away from him, turning to face the semi clean counter with a false air of cheeriness surrounding you. The fear of sounding needy and demanding while telling Alastor the truth keeps you from being honest with him outright.

Fake it.

I shouldn’t worry him with my insecurities or doubts…

It might push him further away…

The whisk in your hand spins in tight circles as you focus on mixing the overdone batter, beginning to thicken itself more than necessary as you kept going, using the task as a distraction from Alastor’s keen observance.

Something was wrong.

He was sure of it now.

His eyes narrowed behind the circular glasses, hands finding your waist as he came to stand behind you, allowing his chest to press against your back, and his head lowering to tuck into the crook of your neck.

A shiver racked your body as he exhaled a long, steady breath onto your skin. Your hands faltered, flurried movements becoming lax as you froze in his embrace, “When’d you start lying to me, ma chère…” Alastor mumbled into your ear. Every nerve in your body was on alert, shocked that he’d went much further than his usual bounds of physical affection, but pleasantly delighted he’d given it to you.

“M’ not lying,..”you try to uphold your lie through rising pants, tempted to moan quietly feeling his lips graze behind your ear, neck, and bare shoulder while your robe shifted lower. You weren’t certain if Alastor was inching it down by his own accord or your subtle squirming against him was to blame.

The ending result was the same either way. Your upper body gradually becoming exposed to his leering gaze and the cool air. Alastor hummed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and flooding your mind repeatedly as he placed chaste kisses on your neck.

“I wish I could believe you, darling…” he chuckled lowly, hands inching towards the lace ribbon keeping your gown tied shut, and with one gentle tug he rendered the fabric useless. “Al..” you whined in slight surprise as he snatched the ribbon off, letting it unravel into a small pile on the tile floor before sliding his cold hands up the expanse of your heated torso.

Nothing.

You were wearing absolutely nothing underneath the thin robe and Alastor audibly groaned when he realized it.

Had you planned on this?

Were you just waiting for him to venture further with you?

All this time he’d watched you frolic and pace around your shared home, wondering what was hidden under you seemingly modest clothing….just to find you wore nothing at all…

Oh, what a rare occurrence it was for him to be such a blind fool.

Your hands flew to grasp Alastor’s wrists as he held you tighter, kneading your soft flesh lovingly, and taking his time to admire every dip and curve you had to offer him.

“Al…please..” you begged, visibly shuddering as he nipped at your neck and played with your breasts. “I won’t go any further until I hear the truth from that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart…”

Damn it….you cursed yourself, slowly losing the will to think as his lips found the most sensitive area on your neck, bruising it with his tongue teeth until you whimpered and rushed out a jumbled explanation for your heavy mood.

“I…Imscaredyoudomtlovseme…th-that you d-don’t want me- Ahm…” you soft voice reached a new octave as your husband slid his free hand between your thighs to cup your mound, gingerly kicking your legs apart with a nudge of his foot against your own, and you tensed all over as he did so.

Fuck, he could definitely feel how desperate you were now, essentially a mess already without Alastor doing much of anything, and embarrassingly unable to control your arousal.

“Love, hm? That’s what’s troubling your precious mind?…” Alastor mulls over your confession, able to maintain his composure despite heat rushing straight through him to the head of his cock as he slid two fingers into your dripping cunt. You jolted from the sudden intrusion, head lulling back to rest on his shoulder as he pumped them in and out of you at a leisurely pace, curling his deft digits fowvard every so often to make you shiver.

His thumb found your clit, pressing defined circles into it as he began to ease your worries, “Love, ma chère, isn’t what I feel for you..” Alastor lets out a soft laugh, trying to calm his own mind before clarifying his vague statement all while pushing you near the edge of your first high.

“No….I feel much more than love for you, my dear. Devotion is a better term…obsession at times…” he admits the darker side of his affection through heavy breaths, cock twitching in his dress pants when you mewl in understanding. Your warm cunt suffocates his fingers for a moment, walls fluttering as the knot in your core threatens to undo itself, causing Alastor to sharply exhale from the inviting fluctuations.

Your lips parted to warm him of your impending orgasm but only a strained moan tumbled off your tongue. Alastor needed no other sign to tell if you were close, inwardly prideful he could make you come with ease.

“Go on, come undone for me , darling,” he insists in a hushed groan, his fingers stretching your walls in a fluid rhythm to drag your climax out, and you could’ve tumbled to the floor from the sheer intensity of the knot inside you snapping on his command.

Thankfully his taller frame kept you securely trapped between him and the counter that you soon found yourself sitting on the edge of after Alastor slipped his hand away from your throbbing cunt.

You watched with a dazed eyes as the older man licked a stripe of your cum off his fingers, brown eyes sliding shut as he let out a satisfied grunt before staring at your willing form perched on the counters edge.

The sight drew a his hidden hunger closer to the surface, toying with his self control as he took it in, and urging him to act on a primal instinct he’d only ever describe as “intense affection”.

Was that a flash of red in his eyes just now?

No , it couldn’t be…

You weren’t left much time to decipher the hungry glint in his eyes before Alastor reclaimed his position near you. His slender waist slotted perfectly between your thighs, the robe now draped off your back, and your hair gradually falling loose from its simple updo as his hands traced your sides.

“Love, sweet girl, is for lonesome fools…” Alastor pressed his forehead to yours, letting you chase his lips for one heated kiss after the next, and only denying you another to whisper against your soft and slightly swollen lips.

“Neither of us are alone or fools, correct?” He huffs as you nod slowly, bringing your hands up to undo his tie, and then proceeding to expertly unbutton his vest and dress shirt.

The general charm that Alastor maintained completely dissolved into pining under your gentle fingertips, an almost desperate shot of adrenaline consuming him as you peppered kisses along his jaw and neck.

If what he said was truly how he felt about you…it was enough to stamp out your doubts, allowing the adoring side of you he’d grown familiar with to resurface, “No…we aren’t,” you respond with a small smile.

He tips your chin up, placing a deep kiss on your lips as he shrugs his shirt and vest off, setting his glasses to the side as well before reaching for the leather belt on his waist.

You paid his actions no mind, busy with fighting his tongue for dominance, but admitted defeat quite fast as his wandered your mouth in expert fashion.

Your soft hands passed over his chest, moving up to tangle in his soft curls, gently tugging the strands to earn a groan from him. Alastor pulled back, a single line of spit connecting you two as he did so, and his hair falling in front of his eyes as he stared down into your tear glossed gaze, “You’re mine, ma chère. Til death and beyond…”

You nod, halfway coherent, but mustering the will to answer him with a content smile.

“Til death…” you repeat the phrase, mind reeling further from logical thinking as Alastor hummed hearing your dazed response, head nestled in your neck once more before he trailed open mouthed kisses down the expanse of your trembling frame. He brought himself as close as possible to you, smiling on your skin as you gasp quietly feeling his clothed erection press flush against your bare stomach, leaning further back in his hold embrace him better. You feared making a mess of the counter but as Alastor trailed his lips down your body and kneeled between your legs he gave one swift snap of his fingers to eliminate the obstacle entirely.

What?….How in the world did he do that?…

Your curiosity would’ve prompted you to ask him about the absurd occurrence if it weren’t for the anticipation rushing your blood as he came face to face with your cunt. “Alastor?…” you squeaked his name softly, attempting to close your legs when he sighed out a warm breath on your glistening folds, but he held them open using one hand with ease. The other resting steady on your waist, guiding you to lay back onto the cold marble countertop, and lingering there as you obeyed his wordless command.

“Good girl…” he praised, tone deepening as you whined quietly, the sound morphing into a loud moan as he lazily flicked his tongue over your slit once…twice…and a third time.

“More…” you pant in the midst of moaning, head craning to the side while your back arched and the urge to scream built in your chest as Alastor obliged your request with vigorous intent. He hummed melodically as your taste seeped onto his tongue, walls ever so sensitive as he explored them tirelessly, and a smirk playing on his lips as you writhed in pleasure.

Your face was soon flushed completely, eyes watering as they rolled slightly with each pass of his tongue over your cunt, and your small hands returning to tug at his soft brown hair. Another coil spiraled in your stomach hearing him groan in response, seeming to enjoy how roughly you pulled his hair, and his gaze drifting up for a split second to get a good view of your satiated state.

Seven hells….she looks even lovelier like this…

Alastor unconsciously drags you closer to his face, not caring at all when you lock your legs around his head and cry out from the borderline bruising hold he has on you now. “Oh god!…” you yelp, throwing him a bewildered glance before tossing your head back as he lapped at your clit like he’d starve to death without it, and the relentless attention to your bundle of nerves was the last thing you could comprehend before the knot unwinded itself.

Your vision blurred over, everything starting to spin as your cum gushed into his mouth, and the tears you were fighting to hide slid freely down your face as he downed every single drop your body offered.

It was all too much, the hunger in his eyes, his hold on you, and your high that never seemed to subside even as he broke away from your cunt with a satisfied smile on his face.

It was all too much at once….

Your head buzzed with euphoric afterthoughts, incoherency daring to cloud your senses entirely, but the sound of Alastor’s voice near your ear successfully halted the sensations long enough for you to comprehend what he was saying.

“You taste divine, ma chère…” his musing flusters you, a light shade of pink coating your cheeks as he dips his head to steal a kiss from you, “Al…” you sigh into his mouth, biting back a keen smile, and wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him near.

He chuckles hearing the unsteady tremor in your tone, adding onto his compliment after capturing your parted lips in another deep kiss, “I presume you’ll feel just as wonderful with me inside you, sweetheart…”

His assumption proved true. So much so that the moment his cock passed through your slippery folds a heavy groan of your name was the first and only thing he could manage to say. “Y/n….mon amor…” Alastor held you underneath him, not daring to move without completely relishing in the way your cunt wrapped around him first, and your broken moans dizzying the last bit of self control he was clinging onto.

You tried not to seem overwhelmed, with your legs wrapped around his waist, and your hands cupping his face to keep him as close as possible while your body adjusted to his size. With furrowed brows and a soft smile you praised your husbands well endowed length as he finally drew his hips back, leaving nothing but the head his cock resting in you.

“You…feel…s’good….” You whisper, breathless as he slams back in, swallowing your pleased cries with one tender kiss after the next. He tasted like you, hints of bourbon lingering on his tongue from the drink he’d poured himself before leaving the station, but your essence more prominent than ever.

All that he was, all that he did, and would ever do revolved around you.

His darling wife…

His one and only….

It showed through the sweet phrases he muttered against your lips as he took his time to please you, pace slow and deliberate, but the execution precise and cutthroat.

You weren’t sure when you’d raised your voice, crying out louder as he abused your sweetest spot continuously, and only going silent when a inaudible scream begged to leap from your chest while his cock bullied into cervix. Stars collected in your vision, hands clawing at Alastor’s back as you tried to hang onto reality for dear life, but failing miserably when he sped up his thrusts.

A subtle laugh passed his lips, eyes glinting with greedy lust as your head flew back, exposing all the love bites he’d left on your delicate skin, and the sight caused his cock to twitch inside you.

“F-fuck….Al!” Your eyes watered once more, sliding shut as a familiar pressure built in your core, rapidly gaining density the longer Alastor fucked into you.

He groaned at the sound of you shouting his name in such a twisted mix of ecstasy and anguish. Your soft voice becoming tainted with an edge he’d never imagined it could have. “Close already, my dear?..” he teased you, smile as smug as ever as he stood up straight, hands gripping either side of your hips, and his gaze lowering to where you two connected.

“Look…at…that…” he mused, suddenly slowing his thrusts to a painfully harsh pace, fixated on the way your cunt continuously creamed on his length. Alastor bit his tongue to keep from growling at the view, barely registering your whines and pleads for him to go faster.

“Al…Alastor…please..m’ begging you…please…” you felt your thighs shake as he continued his lazy strokes, clearly wanting to drag the ordeal out for his personal entertainment, and his lack of sympathy for your plight in that moment edged you even closer to cumming.

He knew it too…

That infamous grin on his face as he watched you resort to quiet sobs and desperate moans was a sure sign of the fact…

Alastor knew you needed him, loved him, lived for him..

“Please what, mon chere?” He bit his lip, unhooking your legs from around his waist to push them to your chest, giving his cock a new angle to stretch your cunt with.

You felt like passing out then, all strength evaporating from your body as he reached places inside you that surely didn’t exist before. His taunting didn’t make your dazed state any better, “Please, ruin you? Please, love you?… Let me hear you loud and clear, darling..”

Before you could register the words they flew from you mouth in a hushed flurry of need.

“Please…love me…fuck me like you love me…use me…I don’t care anymore…”

Alastor immediately rewarded your answer, wasting no time as his hips snapped into yours feverishly, flooding the kitchen with the sound of skin against skin.

“Lovely…” he cooed, voice thick with tension as he stared down at your overstimulated form, and within seconds of the praise slipping off his tongue you came undone. He followed shortly after, not caring to ask where you wanted his release, and you made no protest as the warm white liquid spilled inside you.

All you could do was stare, mouth falling open as he fucked his cum deeper, “It’s high time you became a mother, mon chere. You’d like that wouldn’t you?..” Alastor rambled, hardly coherent as his high coursed through him, but his statement crystal clear to you.

“Yes…” you whimper in response, walls clenching his cock as the thought of carrying his child sprung into your mind. “I’d love it…Al.”

His heart nearly stops as a genuine closed eye smile graces your face, a light blush painting your cheeks as he kisses them gently while gingerly slipping his softened cock out of your leaking heat. Alastor then lets your legs fall, lifting you to sit up straight on the counter again before wrapping his arms around your waist.

You hang onto him for balance, feeling entirely small in his grasp, and finding comfort in the embrace as exhaustion trickles in.

Alastor breathed in your sweet scent, beginning to pull your robe back on your tired form before reaching for his dress shirt. He was careful not to stir you away from his chest as he shrugged the clothing back on

“I’d love you and our child more than anything…” he nonchalantly mumbles, kissing the top of your head, and chuckling when your tied eyes go wide with undeniable hope.

“More than anything?…”

“Anything, my dear…” he repeats himself with a soft smile, bringing a hand up to push fallen strands of hair from your face.

That was when it occurred to you…

Alastor Hartiflet could love…

He’d always been able to….

And he loved you enough to share it with another…

How surreal….

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This entire 1st part was brought to you by the Great Gatsby movie soundtrack…❤️ you’re welcome… ;)

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

Actually it MIGHT BE 12 inches if we are being honest… ❤️ credits to creator.

[blaxcunicorn]

Hello love! I was wondering if you can write something with Sasuke and a reader his family doesn’t approve of (in like a universe they didnt die lol)? No pressure! Thank you and have a good one!!💘

Hiii!

Firstly, omds love??? I legit blushed while reading this.

Secondly, thank you for the request. I really enjoyed writing this one! This takes place in the alternative Naruto world in Tsunades dream. I ended up writing that his father disapproved of the reader instead. I feel like his mother and Itachi would be happy with whomever Sasuke is with as long as they make him happy.

Warning, this story contains a bit of racism (the reader is a Senju while Sasuke as you probably know is a Uchiha)

Word Count: 1.3k

After the Fourth Great Ninja War, the two of you started dating when he came back after leaving the village. You had been in love since you were kids, but you didn’t realise how much you loved each other until he left the village. It didn’t pass a day without the two of you thinking about each other. 

The two of you were rivals as your families pressured you to outdo each other. It was bound to happen with him being a Uchiha and you being a Senju. As you grew older and saw Naruto and Hinata getting married, you were ready to make your relationship known to the world. The two of you were eating at Ramen Ichiraku on a quick date before Sasuke went to work with the police force. “Sasuke, do you think it’s time for us to meet each other’s families?” Sasuke’s eyes widen, he always knew that this day would come. You were both of age, and your peers were planning their wedding. “You are right…but what about our situation? Senjus and Uchihas have been on each other’s throats since the village was built.” 

You were in your great aunt Tsunade’s office helping out with healing an injured ninja. When the two of you finished, and he woke up, his wife came running in, embracing her husband. It warmed your heart seeing the two of them in love, adoring each other. Tsunade coughs, “So, Y/n, you are of age soon. Why haven’t the Uchiha boy proposed to you yet?” You feel your cheek burn “H-how did you know?” You and Sasuke really tried your best to be as secretive as possible. “I saw the way he looked at you when you healed him. It’s the same eyes Dan used to give me…Well…You aren’t getting any younger, and I want great-great nieces and nephews.“Aren’t you past fifty and…” You felt your soul leave your body as she slammed her fist on your head. You wobbled, feeling dizzy from that slam but managed to mutter out, “It’s a bit difficult. I don’t think my parents will approve of him being a Uchiha.” Tsunade pressed the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “That stupid old rivalry. Come with me.” 

You follow her to your house, and she kicks your door open, finding your parents eating lunch. Your father gets off his seat to greet his aunt. Tsunade grabbed your father, lifting him by his shirt. “My beautiful grand niece wants to marry a Uchiha, any objections?” Your father shakes his head in fear “O-of course not, as long as you are happy, dear.” He stutters out while your mother nods in agreement. “See, that was easy. Now we have a wedding to plan,” Tsunade says, patting your father on his back and hitting the oxygen out of his body. 

Now you were seated with Sasuke discussing your next big step. Sasuke nods at you finishing the story. “Well, you should come over for dinner next week, Itachi will be home by then.” You eagerly nod, excited to meet his family. It went smoothly with yours. Hopefully, it will go even better with his family. His father is the head of the Uchiha clan he might be more level-headed and more logical than your parents. Sasuke, on the other hand, hides his nervousness. He really wants to introduce you to his family, but he really wants his father’s and brother’s approval. He knows his mother would love whoever makes him happy.

You were now standing outside their house, with a flower bouquet in your hands. Sasuke is the one greeting you at the door. “You look beautiful,” he said, gently putting his hand on top of your head. He held the door open for you, and you were greeted by his family, who were preparing the table for dinner. The first one to greet you was his mother. She embraced you in a warm hug, you felt a wave of relief wash over you. “I’m delighted to meet my son’s gorgeous girlfriend.” You felt your cheek burn “T-the pleasure is all mine. Thank you for having me.” You said, giving her the bouquet. “Thank you, dear.” She smiled, giving you another hug. You offered to help her prepare the table, which she kindly accepted. The two of you talked while preparing the table. Sasuke noticed that you become more and more comfortable around his mother. Seeing the two of you smile and laugh together warmed his heart. When the table was set, his mother called upon the other men in the house. 

The first to show up was the family’s patriarch. “Father, this is my girlfriend Y/n.” You dried your hands on the handkerchief and nervously shook the father’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Y/n.” He said with a firm voice. “N-no the pleasure is all mine.” You stuttered nervously, you have heard stories about Sasuke’s strict father. “Please, have a seat.” He said the four of you sat down at the table. “Sasuke, where is your brother?” 

“I’m here, father. Sorry that I’m late. The Anbu mission took longer than expected.” Itachi said, having a towel on his shoulder. You glare at how Sasuke’s eyes light up at the sight of his older brother. You knew, based on his obnoxious bragging as a kid, that he adored his big brother. “Itachi, this is my girlfriend Y/n.” He said proudly. If there is one person in his family that would accept you, it would be Itachi. You stand up and shake his hand.  Itachi couldn’t help but notice the Senju Clan embroidery on your dress. “Y/n, do you belong to the Senju clan?” He smiles. “O-oh, yes. Tobirama Senju was my paternal great-great-great grandfather.” You said. Itachi’s warm smile brought you hope, but that was quickly crushed as their father slammed the o-choko on the table. “I’m not having my youngest son marrying a Senju.” He said between his teeth. 

“The Senjus are solely responsible for why we, Uchihas, have been discriminated against since the village was founded.” He continued standing up from his pillow. “Father, she has nothing to do with it!” Sasuke said, accidentally triggering his Sharinga. Which his father responded with the same eyes. “I don’t want anything to do with the Senju clan, especially a brat who is a direct descendant of Tobirama.  If you know what’s best for you, leave this house immediately.” You wanted to earth to swallow you as tears were running down your face. You immediately left “Darling, wait”, his mother said as you rushed out of the house. Sasuke gets up to run after you “Sasuke, stop” he ordered. 

“You don’t have to like her, but you will respect her as she will be your daughter-in-law whether you approve of it or not.” He finishes running after you. His brother looks at their father with disapproved eyes. “Father, this could’ve been a great opportunity for the Uchihas to approve that we wish to integrate into Konoha. And who knows, she might infect Sasuke with the will of fire which might prevent him from running away again.”  Itachi shakes his head before excusing himself. He uses his Sharingan and spots you and Sasuke sitting on top of a bridge above a river. 

You leaned your head on Sasuke’s shoulder, while he rapped his arm around you. “Your father hates me, h-he didn’t even give me a chance to explain myself.” You mutter, still sniffing from your crying. “Forget about him. It’s only the two of us against the world, right? You nod, and he slides a silver ring on your finger. You lift your head off his shoulder “S-sasuke” you were shocked at his gesture. He still wants to marry you, even with his father’s disapproval. He turns, facing you “There is no one I can imagine standing by my side. You are the spring sun, in my cold winter days…I-I don’t think I can do this without you.” Sasuke is stunned as he sees tears streaming down your smiling face. You threw yourself over him, embracing him in a hug causing him to fall on his back. “You and me, right, Sasuke?” He responds by putting his index and middle finger on your forehead. 

[callivich]

🎭 Gallavich Masquerade Event Prompts 🎭

Prompts for @gallavichthings Gallavich Masquerade Event!

Here are a selection of optional prompts that you can use for the Gallavich Masquerade Event! Interpret these however you like and feel free to use them as just a jumping off point, you don’t have to stick to the exact prompt!

Mickey comes out of juvie for the first time and feels more jealous that he realises. One glimpse of Ian just talking to Kash and Mickey knows he wants to take the next step. He decides to kiss Ian.

Despite the fact Mickey doesn’t want to move to the West Side, he adjusts to it surprisingly quicker than either of them would have imagined. Weirdly, Ian finds himself unhappy living there.

Sammi never reports Ian to the army. Instead of their date, Mickey suggests a trip. It’s nothing fancy - just a seedy motel - but it helps Ian all the same.

Ian doesn’t work at a regular club, it’s a club where everyone is in masks. But it doesn’t take Mickey long to track Ian down in the crowd, even if Ian wants to pretend he’s not who Mickey thinks he is.

Mickey and Ian have always been close friends as kids, when Mandy accuses Ian in s1 of messing with her, Mickey feels pressure to defend his sister but is there something else going on?

S6. Ian keeps getting random text messages from an unknown number who won’t give a name, but he’s feeling lonely so he responds. It’s strange but the texts remind him of Mickey. But Mickey’s in jail, he doesn’t have a phone. Or does he?

Fiona comes to stay with Ian and Mickey in their new West Side apartment. Ian goes through a bit of a depressive episode. Fiona gets an insight into how much Mickey cares for Ian and what married life looks like for them.

They don’t go through with the born free robbery because Lip and Mickey get in a car accident, Ian is angry that his husband is injured and that he could have been caught doing something illegal.

Early seasons - Ian’s been arrested for something he didn’t do. He was at a baseball game with Mickey, who still has their ticket stubs. But can Mickey bring himself to be Ian’s alibi? And will the cops even believe him?

Ian wants everything to go perfectly with Mickey once he gets out of jail in s10. He suggests they even hold off on the sex so they can have a few dates first. Mickey is sceptical but it turns out dating is kinda fun….

Post-finale, Mickey and Ian are contacted out of the blue via email to provide their security services to an up and coming company. They are very surprised when they show up for their first job and find that Svetlana is the manager.

S8. Ian gets involved with a rich, older man who offers to take him on a free trip to Mexico. He’s not going to turn down a free vacation, especially one to the same country Mickey is in. Obviously, Mexico’s a big place but it doesn’t stop Ian keeping an eye out….

Ian’s seen all different kinds of drunk Mickey over the years - angry, sleepy, loud, funny. But it turns out fancy cocktails on the West Side are bringing out a new drunk Mickey - flirty and sappy. Ian kinda loves it.

Mickey gets a deal instead of juvie - he has to complete summer school and accept tutoring. Ian manages to wrangle his way into being Mickey’s tutor. Ian is pleased to see just how smart Mickey is, while Mickey gets worried when he realises his feelings for Ian are deeper than he thought.

Early seasons - both of them secretly make a New Year’s resolution. What they don’t realise is that their resolutions have a lot of similarities…

The guard Mickey seduced to break out of jail the first time has discovered Ian and Mickey are married. She starts to send letters. Mickey brushes it off but Ian worries…has Mickey got a stalker?

When Ned dies, he leaves Ian some money in his will. Mickey thinks he should accept it, but Ian’s not so sure….

Ian injures himself during ROTC practice in the abandoned building, it’s up to Mickey to take care of him.

S4. Ian doesn’t want to be found but he can’t stop thinking about Mickey. So he’s sending anonymous letters every other day. Mickey knows the letters are from Ian but doesn’t know where he is. One day, Ian gives a PO Box address, Mickey writes back….

Ian and Mickey are both placed at Old Army. How long will it take for their coworkers to realise they’re in a relationship?

Operation Matchmaker a.k.a Ian and Mickey try to help Debbie and Sandy get back together. They may or may not be successful and they may or may not learn something about their own relationship in the process.

S11. It’s Ian who comes up with the idea of a prize for the winner of their stupid video game competitions but it’s Mickey who makes it interesting….

They get married at city hall. But Mickey’s acting weird….after some miscommunication, Ian figures out it’s because he wants a wedding.

Post-prison, s10. Ian notices Mickey is struggling adjust to finally being free.

Early seasons - It must be the great weed that Mickey had stolen from Iggy, that has to be the only reason he’s answering each and every stupid question Ian asks on a warm summer evening.

➡️ More Gallavich prompts here! 👀

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 4/5

Book Blurb: From BookTok sensation Emily McIntire comes a dark and delicious fractured fairy tale reimagining of Aladdin.

She's his diamond in the rough. He's her worst nightmare.Yasmin Karam, daughter to one of the richest men in the world, has never known strife. So, when her beloved father falls ill, she's determined to make his final days his happiest. His last wish? To see her married to a man of his choosing. Except Yasmin's heart already belongs to someone else. 

A servant. A street rat. A man her father would never consider worthy. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Yasmin strikes a desperate deal with her father's right-hand man, Julian, not realizing he has his own twisted agenda.Julian Faraci has one goal: become the most powerful man in the world. He's built a future from broken bones and faded bruises, never caring who he hurt along the way. But when his mentor falls ill, he finds himself on the verge of losing everything, and he'll stop at nothing to inherit what is rightfully his. Even if it means forcing a woman he can't stand into marriage.Yasmin is a brat who speaks out of turn, and he's the villain of her story. But he decides she'll be his—no matter what it takes to convince her.

Review:

A dark Aladdin reimagining featuring the heiress of a diamond company and her father’s right hand man who definitely has a few skeletons in his closet. Yasmin Karam is the daughter to one of the richest men in the world, she is extremely sheltered and spoiled, she loves her father and is willing to fo anything for him, event at the expense of her own happiness. Yasmin has been shut out of her father’s business despite how much she wants to be part of it, she’s been treated like a delicate doll all her life and she wants more, she wants to be taken seriously, to have her father’s approval and understanding, and to be treated the way his right hand man seems to be. Yasmin absolutely hates Julian Faraci, a man who is 13 years older than her who somehow managed to go from street rat to her father’s right hand man, who seems to have gotten the trust, attention, and consideration from her father that she never had. Julian is a man with so many secrets, he’s lived a life filled with darkness, manipulation and death. He had an abusive childhood that lead to him taking his own father’s life while dealing with the abuse from his mother. He wants power, he wants to take over Yasmin’s family’s business that should be his. He built the company and has made sure its continued to prosper but for some reason he is not even considered a successor for it. Julian’s only goal is to be the most powerful man in the world, and he’ll get rid of anyone in his way, preferably by feeding their corpses to his giant pet python. When his mentor, Yasmin’s father falls ill, and he gives Yasmin an ultimatum of finding a husband before he dies, Julian see’s an opportunity to snatch everything he wants and everything he never knew he wanted when he proposes a fake marriage to Yasmin.... yet this fake marriage will force them to finally face each other and who they both thought the other was and who they truly are. They get under each other’s skin like no one else, they turn each other on like no one else, and like a diamond in the rough, their feelings just need a bit of shine and pressure to finally reveal the twisted love cage that works perfectly for them. I adore the Never After series by Emily McIntire and this was a fun addition to the series! I thought it was an interesting retelling and I do like how wrapped around Yasmin’s finger Julian is, despite how much he doesn’t want to admit it, and ISABELLA THE SNAKE IS EVERYTHING OKAY I LOVE HER YALL. I liked seeing Yasmin’s growth from someone who wants to please everyone to someone who finally goes for what she wants and snatches it.

*Thanks Netgalley and SOURCEBOOKS Bloom Books, Bloom Books for sending an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

“The Death of a Bastard” Series (Part 3 of?)

Title: “An Alliance”

Pairing: Jon Snow x Reader/ Reader x Robb Stark

PART ONE PART TWO PART 4 PART 5

Warnings: None

Summary: The reader is the first to find Jon Snow’s lifeless body. She has to flee away from Castle Black and go back to her home, Rivendell. She reminisces, and remembers how she met her “Snow”, and fell in love with him. But she was promised to his half brother, Robb. Mostly based around how they met, and what in between their meeting and his death.

Comment if you want to be apart of the taglist. If at some point you want to be unadded, please let me know :) From here on, it will be going back to the beginning. How they met, why, when, and how she fell in love with them. I DID MENTION LEGOLAS. I’m not good at making up elvish names 😂

You and Jon had only gotten closer as time went on; the older you got, the more the infatuation turned into something other than love. No one noticed when you two would sneak away to be in the godswood, or somewhere that had a lot of shadows. Arya loved Jon like a brother; she looked up to him. She helped the two of you sneak around, but on the condition that she could come along some of the time.

One cold morning, your handmaiden helped you into a dress that was made by your people. “My lady, seamstress Johanna made you this dress to accommodate this terrible climate change..” she said as she tightened the sewn in corset. The dress went from white to a blush pink, you stared at yourself in the mirror.

“Do you ever hate your breasts, Olive?” You ask as you stared at your cleavage in the mirror. Olive chuckled, “Oh child, I wish mine were how they use to be. Why do you ask?” The fellow elvish lady looked at you from over your shoulder. “It’s all men can stare at. Especially Robb. I don’t want to be adored for my breasts, I want to be adored because of my mind..” you say quietly as your hands rubbed your hips. “I don’t want to be adorned with jewels and promised land. I just want to be adorned by books, and be within nature..” you say as you look out at the sad, cloudy, and cold day. “I want my skin to be kissed by the sun, and all of my children to be able to play within the grass and lilacs trees.” You say but your eyes land on Jon Snow, who was sparring down below with Theon.

More than anything, you wanted to be with Jon Snow. Your handmaiden looked over at you and smiled, “Oh, child. You fell in love with the bastard child didn’t you?” You turn to face her.

“Why does it matter that he is a bastard? He is as much as a Stark as the rest of the children. I’d still be marrying a Stark, father would understand…” you say and Olive gave a sad smile. “My dear, your father hand picked Robb Stark. He came here months before you did, and chose which of the boys you were to marry. Bran was a possibility, but your father did not want to wait for the boy to grow.” She said as she sat down on the bed. “King Legolas, well, Lord Legolas, chose Robb to be your husband. You must marry him, there is no other choice.” She said as she picked up your your circlet crown headpiece.

As she placed it upon your head, she looked you in the eyes, “If I were you, learn to love him. Your father wants this alliance.” Olive whispered and you wiped a tear from your eye. “Why must he put this pressure on me? I would never make my daughter marry someone she doesn’t love.” You say as you fled your chambers, and on your way, you bumped into Arya.

“I apologize m’lady.” You say and Arya smiled. “I told you not to call me that.” She said as she looked both ways down the hall, and she leaned up and whispered in your ear, “Jon would like to see you in the godswood, when it is night.” She said before she darted down the hall. Walking down the stairs that led to where the boys were sparring, all eyes stopped what they were doing just to get a glimpse of you.

Your dress trailed behind you, and you smiled at all of them. “I didn’t know elvish women were so hot.” Theon said and Robb elbowed him in the ribs. “Don’t stop on my account, my lords, and Theon.”

Theon glared at you, “You can call me lord too. If you were with me, I’d let you call me that.” He said with a wink and you shuddered.

“Well, we don’t want to spar around you, m’lady.” Robb said and you picked up a sword that was hung on one of the wooden bannisters. “M’lady, that one is heavy-“

Before he could finish his sentence, you began swinging the sword in a practice manner. Their eyes were widened when your turned back to look at them, “What? Did I cut one of you?” You questioned and then a smile broke out on both Jon’s and Robb’s faces. “We’re not use to women wielding swords.” Robb said and before you could say anything, Lady Catelyn was watching from the balcony.

“Robb may I have a word with you..” she called out and Robb shared a glance at you and Jon. “Yes, mother.” Before he left your side, he pressed a kiss to your cheek, and took the sword from your hands.

Theon followed Robb, and it left you and Jon alone. His father watched you two from a distance, “I hope I did not get you guys in trouble.” You say as you rub your shoulders, and Jon shook his head. “Lady Stark does not think it’s appropriate for a woman to spar or wield a sword.” He said and you shook your head.

“I am really good with a bow. Our people are the best archers in the seven kingdoms.” Jon looked at you and grinned. “Is that so?” He asked and you nodded. “Then I guess we will find out later.” He said as he walked away from you, leaving you alone. That was, until the Lord of Winterfell himself, approached you.

“My lord.” You say as you bowed and when you stood up straight, he gave a nod with his head. “LadyY/N, I hope you are adjusting to Winterfell.” He said and you grinned. “The weather is the only thing I am still adjusting to.” You say and he smiled.

“I can imagine. Going from hot, sunny, weather to this cold place.” He said and then he lifted up the sword you were using just a few moments earlier. “You know your way around a sword?” He asked and you nodded.

“My family believes that everyone should know how to wield either a sword or a bow. Every man, woman, and child knows how to use a bow. Our ancestors were always afraid that man would try to take our land from us.” You say as Ned handed you the sword. “We are not conquerors or thieves of land; we just want peace within the realm. We will only help those who cannot help themselves.” You say as you held the sword out in front of you and ran a finger across the valerian steel blade. “We only let those we trust see our land. There are spells that shield it from those who want to take it, or mean us harm.”

Ned watched your every movement, “Lord Stark, you are a good man.. Therefore, you would be able to find Rivendell. As for Tywin Lannister, he would never see Rivendell.” He listened to every word you spoke intently, “As for Robb, he is to be my husband. He would be able to approach Rivendell even if he didn’t have the best of intentions. That is why we’re careful when it comes to arranged marriages.”

He stood there taking in every word. “I don’t understand m’lady… Why does your father need an alliance with Winterfell when your land is hidden?”

You looked around and then leaned closer to Ned, “He didn’t say we needed an alliance. Remember, we help those who cannot help themselves. Winter is coming, my Lord.” You say as you handed him the sword and walked away without saying another word.

_____________

Author’s Note:

I hope you guys enjoyed it!. From here on, this is showing how they met, and what happened when Y/N came to Winterfell. It will all lead back to Jon’s death. Who knows, maybe I will take it a step further and go to the end of the series. :) Thanks for reading!

TAGLIST: @orbitingdylan @bekky06 @lexxpexx @sarcasm-n-insomnia @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere

[sugarcherriess]

Bullet For My Darling

Part I // Part II // Part III // Part IV

[ Spy!Hyunjae x TrophyWife!Reader x Sangyeon ]

Synopsis - In the end, there was one.

Warnings - Sex used as a coping mechanism so it’s just. Sad, lotsa tears, mental breakdown, panic and chaos, manipulation, reader gaslighting herself, mentions of blood, many timeskips, character death.

You find Hyunjae in the middle of the dancefloor where you left him. He’s dancing carefully with an older company manager that had long retired before you knew Sangyeon. She was the sweetest– you were told– but only when she wasn’t poisoning people that interfered with her work.

An ill timed misstep, a mind too preoccupied in screaming for help– suddenly you’re falling into Hyunjae’s arms.

The lady uses it as a sign to make her exit. She doesn’t have time for emotional drama.

“Woah- hey! Are you okay? You’ve gone cold,” his eyebrows pinch together in worry, “What happened with Sangyeon?”

A forced breath tells him all he needs to know.

“We can’t do this anymore,”

Five words and your resolve shatters into pieces. You don’t even consider how Hyunjae’s taking the news, only that your heart is in your throat and your hands won’t stop shaking.

“What?”

You can’t look him in the eyes.

“Sangyeon–”

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Don’t faint.

“Sangyeon’s angry beyond repair. I fucked this up for myself and I won’t let you bear the consequences of my actions,”

His own sweaty hands come to cup your chin and then your eyes meet his.

“Did he hurt you?”

He’s gentle with his tone and the consideration almost has you crying like a baby in his arms and telling him all the ways your life has done you wrong. No, Sangyeon never hurt you physically. But your heart was never left without a bruise.

“He didn’t– I–” it’s hard to gather your thoughts when all you want to do is run away.

“Hyunjae, you have to go,”

“I don’t quite like that idea,” he chuckles in spite of the rigid atmosphere, “I have a feeling if I leave, I won’t get to see you again,”

Once again, your silence tells him everything.

Hyunjae’s face turns stoic. Arms straightening on his sides, his answer is resolute.

“No.”

Your chest tightens at his refusal. You had hoped this wold be easy. That he wouldn’t make it harder than it needed to be. But this entire situation had become too complicated for anything to go smoothly.

“Please don’t make this difficult,” you clutch his collar in your hands.

He pulls them off, entangling his fingers with yours. Hyunjae’s face is softer now when he sees you truly worried about whatever Sangyeon threatened you with.

“I’m not leaving just to let you waste your life with that psychopath,”

“I chose this life,” you breathe in his scent to ground you, “I’m not gonna let you become the receiver of the punishment meant for me,”

“It’s over, Hyunjae,”

It kills you to say it and it kills you to step away from him. But you do. Despite your heart weighing you down colossally, you turn around to start your walk of shame to your husband.

Your trance is broken by heavy footsteps running towards you. A hand wraps around your wrist like vines and suddenly you’re pulled around.

Soft lips are pressed to yours in urgency. The hall lights up with a collective gasp and suddenly all eyes are on you.

Then everything happens too quickly.

The pressure slightly increases on your lips and is suddenly gone. Hyunjae is ripped from your arms and Sangyeon enters your vision. His fist lands on Hyunjae’s face and breaks the side of his lip open. The second blow is blocked by a man bigger than Sangyeon who keeps yelling at him to calm down.

Hyunjae’s laughing on the floor even with his lip busted open. He mocks Sangyeon with his nonchalant behaviour and the audience silently revels in the buildup to inevitable destruction taking place before them.

Anxiety builds up in your chest once the shock wears down. Your head pounds and you choke on your breath. Sangyeon stares at you– eyes ignited with the fire of detestation at your disrespect– when you shove past him and drop next to Hyunjae.

You don’t wait for anything to happen next. With your ears ringing, you can’t really hear whether anyone is calling you or what they’re saying. You quietly pull Hyunjae behind you and walk out of the hall.

With Sangyeon’s eyes stuck to the back of your head, you can’t seem to figure out how you keep digging bigger holes for yourself.

Cleaning Hyunjae’s lip takes surprisingly less time than it should considering you’re at his house which is unfamiliar territory and he doesn’t seem to be too enthused about letting you fuss over him when he can cuddle with you and take a nap.

Besides his soft snores pressed into your chest, there’s silence in the room. Not even his clock is making any noise.

The silence registers as eerie in your mind. Your nerves remain unsettled, cold sweats breaking out. It’s hard to sleep when your mind keeps running reels of how it would be easy for Sangyeon to track you all the way here. How easy would it be for him to break into Hyunjae’s home and kill him.

You think about how much trouble you’ve put Hyunjae in. You truly believe that had it been just business, Sangyeon would’ve let Hyunjae off easy. Because he wouldn’t have found him.

Sangyeon only found out about Hyunjae because of his constant detours into your room.

You consider it silly to fall asleep when Sangyeon’s absence is as loud as his presence. He looms over your head like a threat. His fear settles into your lungs like thick tar, drowning you from the inside out.

Sighing, you force yourself to think of something else, anything but Sangyeon. The first night you met Hyunjae pops into your brain. He had come to your house during one of Sangyeon’s mandatory New Year’s parties and snuck his way into your husband’s study on the second floor. The plan was to come and go in five minutes. However, he had been uninformed that Sangyeon’s wife uses the same study as a sanctuary to hide from her superficial life.

After a whole night of being shown off as a mantle piece, an addition in one of his infinite winnings, his trophy wife, you were irritated enough to not give a fuck about why Hyunjae was there. All you wanted was a few moments of peace and Hyunjae’s presence was wasting your time of solitude. He told you he came in search of a file with Sangyeon’s recent supplier documents. You had no idea where he kept documents like these but knew it had to be in that very room, so you had told him to try his luck and get out as soon as possible.

It wasn’t very soon.

The file had been hidden away meticulously and it took Hyunjae two hours to find it. You had rolled your eyes at him when he left with a “see you soon, cherry-cheeks,” and left a flying kiss in your direction. Your hands came up to touch your face after he left and cursed the several glasses of wine for enhancing your already pigmented blush.

Later in the night, you found yourself searching through all your husband’s drawers to remember where he kept what. You tried to convince yourself that it was to ensure that Hyunjae would leave you alone as fast as possible, shoving away the idea that maybe, in the hours that you spent together, you had quickly grown fond of him and wanted to help him.

You forlornly smiled to yourself at that. You always trust people so quickly, and love them so deeply.

And then the insecurity creeps in.

Hyunjae has never told you if he wants anything to do with you beyond ruining Sangyeon– beyond finishing his job. You think to yourself whether he’s just using you as a ploy to get information about Sangyeon and the thought makes your chest ache.

The boy in your arms stirs himself awake while you tussle with your brain.

“What are you thinking about?” He mumbles into your skin.

“You,”

He sleepily giggles at that, still coming to consciousness.

“So obsessed with me,”

His teasing has you shoving him away from you. Which only makes him laugh harder.

“How’s your lip?” You ask once he presses himself against you again.

“Hmm… it’ll be way better if you kissed it,” he peaks out at your face with one eye.

Upon seeing your halfhearted smile, his cheeky demeanour immediately falters.

“What’s wrong?” A twitch in his brow bone gives away his worry more than his tone.

You don’t answer him, only bend over to kiss him.

“Do you love me, Hyunjae?”

A sharp intake of breath. And then silence.

Through a close lipped smile, he forces out a “yeah,” to quell your worry.

It doesn’t work.

But you pretend it does.

Your hand grabs his arm and before you know it, his body is pressed on top of yours.

“Then make love to me,”

Hyunjae knows Sangyeon’s fear is eating you alive and he realises that having sex might not be the healthiest way to make you forget about your husband. But it’s the least he can do after so vividly shattering your heart.

No words are exchanged when he unbuttons his shirt away from your chest and kisses down your neck. His mouth encloses around a perked nipple, coercing out a shaky huff from your throat. His teeth pinch the sensitive skin and his tongue lathes around the indents. As his hands reach your bottoms, he switches attention towards your other nipple.

Insisting on not bothering with foreplay, you pull his sweats down to his knees. Your tears flow when he inserts himself inside you. When his cock nudges inside your walls, you realise Sangyeon left a significant amount of damage inside.

However, you power through, hell bent on torturing yourself in search of an orgasm reached on your conditions.

Hyunjae tries to break away from your grasp but you don’t let him. Pushing your nails into his shoulder blades, you tighten your legs behind his hips so he’s forced into a slow grind inside you.

It’s depressing, the way you’re willing yourself to cum. Depressing and overwhelming. You start sobbing when the pain gets too much and Hyunjae tries to distract you by kissing your face.

He tries again to move away but you plead him to make you cum, letting your legs fall open besides you. Hyunjae starts a generous pattern, not too fast to drive you into panic but not too slow to leave you unsatisfied.

Soon, he pushes your legs onto his shoulder with your permission. His motion is steady and calculated inside you as his hands twist and pinch your nipples.

His orgasm comes before yours and the lubrication helps the slide feel easier than before. Noticing the shift in your attitude, deft fingers start rubbing your clit in tight circles.

You spasm against him when you climax. Still, it’s unsavoury and leaves the burn in your belly more charged than it was initially.

The frustration makes you start weeping fully. Hyunjae tries to distract you again by kissing your face but your cries are loud and make it difficult for you to breathe.

As soon as he takes his cock out of you, you’re pushing him off. Your legs tangle in the sheets and you don’t make it far away from the bed before toppling on the floor in hysterics.

Hyunjae’s quick to push his sweats back up his hips and join your shivering frame on the ground.

“I-im s-sorry,” every breath of yours ends in a boneshaking hiccup.

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything,” it kills him to see you so broken.

You mumble something but it’s mixed between your sobs, inaudible.

“What, darling?” He cups his face to make you look at him.

“I still love him,” you force the ungraceful confession out through sniffles and heaves, “ but he doesn’t love me,”

Hyunjae wraps his arms around your shoulders and rocks your body with his.

“And you don’t love me either,”

He stills entirely at that.

Does he love you? He definitely cares for you so much. But how can one love a person when their only interactions had been sexual? He truly did believe you despised him so wasting his time thinking of a potential romance with you never crossed his mind.

But can’t care blossom into love?

Hyunjae supposes it can.

He pulls you to his chest and you try to match his breathing.

“I’ll take you away from here,” you close your eyes and melt into his skin, “We’ll go where no one will find us. We’ll build our own home, our own family,” his grip tightens on you, “I’ll love you the way you deserve to be loved,”

One final deep breath and you’re nuzzling your face into his skin.

“Okay,”

Hyunjae smiles wistfully at your quick agreement.

Yet, you detach yourself from him.

“I have to go home,”

He startles at your choice.

“What? Why?” Hyunjae searches your eyes for anything beyond fear but emerges empty handed.

“He’s waiting for me,” you’re resolute in your choice.

His laugh is short and apathetic. “You don’t know that,”

Your eyes show no signs of retracting your decision.

“I do.”

“After all the disrespect,” Sangyeon turns your way when you make your presence known with a knock, “You’re back where you started,”

He shakes his head when you refuse to look at him.

“Are you happy now? Did you have fun insulting me like that with your little toy? Is he happy that he could use you in so many ways?”

“He’s not a toy,” your eyes shoot daggers at Sangyeon, “He’s shown me more humanity than you have for the past ten years,”

“You think he cares for you? Please,” he scoffs in your face, “He only cares about his mission. Once I’m out of the picture he’s gonna leave you in the dust,”

Your heart clenches at his words.

Sangyeon strides towards you with an air of arrogance, dropping a sealed folder at your feet. Your cheeks flare red when you have to bend in front of him to pick it up.

He doesn’t give you a chance to read every single word– not that you wanted to anyway, and narrates the contents of the pages.

“Lee Jaehyun, alias Hyun-Jae. Very idiotic choice if you ask me. Shuffling the syllables around? Really?”

You’re skimming through the pages, only your ears paying attention to Sangyeon, so he continues.

“Twenty Four years of age. Six years in the field, started at eighteen years old. Works for some agency of douchebags that keep shoving their noses in other people’s lives. Listed as the best of the best… agency-wide at least. Very doubtful of that,”

Chuckling at your scowl, he keeps up his condescending tone.

“Favourite method of attack: Seducing spouses, partners, escorts, anyone that shares intimacy with his target. Once he gets close enough, he steals their information to infiltrate his target’s business, leaving the poor seduced souls in the dust,”

Your breath hitches and Sangyeon picks up on it.

“How often is this method used? Ninety nine percent of the time,” He scans your face, noticing your bottom lip wobble.

Sangyeon moves closer to brush the strands of hair away from your cheek and cups it.

“I suggest you don’t put too much trust in him. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you fall in the remaining one percent. He only cares about asskissing his boss. You were in his way and what madman would give up the opportunity to get their dick wet when a slut like you is opening her legs at first glance?”

With eyes closed shut you finally find the courage, brushing away the derogatory words, to ask him the question that’s been eating away at your brain.

“Why did you fall out of love?”

“I realised my passions are not with you,”

He’s quick with his answer, not caught off guard as you’d hoped.

A single tear drops from your eye. You can’t begin to comprehend why, after everything, you were expecting him to console you. To tell you he just pretended to hate you so you would leave Hyunjae. But that was clearly a futile fantasy.

He clicks his tongue at you when you refuse to look away from the file.

“I have some things to take care of,” Sangyeon announces, “You’re free to read through the entire file. Do burn it afterwards though,” a kiss is placed on the side of your head, “Don’t want it falling in the wrong hands now do we?” A wicked chuckle escapes his lips and then he’s moving away.

Sangyeon closes the door behind him when he leaves the room and you immediately fall to the floor. Hours are spent with your head in your hands, crying out your misery, your helplessness.

How could you be so stupid to believe a man who’s a deceiver by profession?

How could you let yourself be swayed by a few fucks?

And why did you still care for him after the facts had been laid out right in front of you?

He couldn’t even say he loves you god damn it!

After wailing your heart out and running out of tears for the night, you lay down on the floor to bask in some peace. But Sangyeon’s voice doesn’t leave you alone even then.

Yet, for the first time in your life, you’re happy that it came.

A whisper from far away, only a dusty memory now.

“I never let disrespect go unpunished,”

Hyunjae is in danger.

How could you expect mercy from Sangyeon?

When you burst into Sangyeon’s office you find him leaning against his desk. But the thing that breaks your heart is Hyunjae, a few feet away from him. He’s tied and kneeling on the floor, head leaning down. You can’t see his face because he’s facing Sangyeon, but the blood splatters surrounding him and Sangyeon’s untouched body scream that Sangyeon sent his men for him.

“Stop this madness,”

Sangyeon smirks at your arrival and your bravery. Hyunjae’s head whips around at your voice and you can finally see his face. His nose is bleeding and several cuts are littered on his face. His mouth is also tinted red as if he devoured a whole bowl of cherries. But you know, in Sangyeon’s presence, that’s an impossible scenario. Not even your imagination would dare to run that reel.

You rush towards him, ignoring Sangyeon.

“Oh Hyunjae,” you tear up again when he tries to smile at you but stops at the pain it causes.

“I’m okay,” he nuzzles into your palm caressing his face.

Sangyeon rolls his eyes behind you.

“So you can do whatever you want but when I try to take rightful revenge, it’s a problem?”

“You’re fucking insane!” You bellow at his absurdity.

“I told you to get rid of him,” Sangyeon starts calmly, “I told you what was at stake. You chose to disregard my warning. I don’t care what you think I am, I will do as I say,”

His unwavering stare challenges you to move away. But you don’t.

“I’m not gonna let you kill him,” you stand protectively in front of Hyunjae.

“You’re gonna choose him over me? Really? You’re gonna give up all the luxuries of your life for this sloppy piece of shit?” Sangyeon raises an eyebrow at you and you grimace back at him.

You’re about to defend Hyunjae when he interrupts.

“You think you’re the only clever person in the entire world,” you both turn to face Hyunjae when he speaks up but he’s still looking at the floor, “I was so sloppy because Sangyeon was so well hidden under the veil of his connections and all the cyber security,” he looks only at you, “We couldn’t penetrate the cave so we made the predator uncover himself in his foolish urge to “catch” the prey. You remember the file I came for a few weeks ago? The one you told me where it was?”

You nod lightly, unsure of why that matters now.

“Those stock codes weren’t gonna be used as evidence. We used them to act as intruding entities in his system. In his attempt to find and attack us, Sangyeon’s system revealed him. The gloves, the hacking, me showing him my face, all of that was just bait,” he turns to look at Sangyeon now,

“I was the bait. You think I was the only one scaling your house? That I was the only one at that stupid party yesterday? I was the fucking decoy. I was just a trap. We made you come to us, now you’re an open wound,”

You can hear Sangyeon snarl in the distance, his heavy footsteps charging towards Hyunjae.

“Give it five minutes,” Hyunjae keeps provoking him, “Your files are gonna be displayed everywhere. Everyone will know that their charitable Sangyeon has been murdering people and has been upkeeping his father’s legacy of drug and human trafficking,”

The monologue ends with Hyunjae spitting out blood on the marble floor right as you shove yourself between him and an unimaginably fuming Sangyeon.

“You’re a fucking rat,” Sangyeon seethes at you, “I thought you were keeping his cock warm but you were willingly feeding him my information?”

“Sangyeon–”

“I thought he was using you to annoy me, to embarrass me,” he laughs in disbelief, “You fucking bitch–”

Terror slithers up your spine when he grabs you by the neck but he doesn’t get a chance to do much before he’s getting punched in the nose by Hyunjae– the crack of his bone resonates in the room.

It’s hard to calculate when he untied himself with both you and Sangyeon alert in the room but you figure that he’s got more tricks up his sleeve than any of you realise, if his monologue has informed you that much.

You watch them fight with your blood pounding behind your eyes, Hyunjae mainly with the upper hand. With rapidly quickening breaths, you look around the room to find something of help. If you call security then they’ll only support Sangyeon– so that's a hard pass to security.

It’s entirely up to you to intervene.

It’s when Sangyeon throws Hyunjae on the table that you snap out of your panicking stupor.

Now.

You have to do something now.

The decision you make next is less thought out than you had preferred it to be, but it’s your only hope.

You reach for the garter in your thigh and assume position. Sangyeon stops all movement when he hears the click of your revolver getting ready to shoot.

“I knew I shouldn’t have gifted that to a dumb whore like you,”

Sangyeon laughs in disbelief when he turns around to face you. Hyunjae coughs up blood behind him and tries to move up.

While your body remains rigid, your lips are trembling. You blink your eyes to clear the tears continuously finding home in them and huff in frustration.

“Get away from him,”

To your surprise, Sangyeon does get away from Hyunjae.

However, he surprises you again by unsheathing his gun from his pants and cocking it at your head.

“You don’t get to live if I die,”

Why did it have to come to this?

Closing your eyes, you let yourself feel the heartache and you let yourself sob at yourself, at Hyunjae, at Sangyeon.

“Don’t make me do this Sangyeon,” a final shaky plead, “Just let him leave,”

“Can’t do that I’m afraid,” he calibrates his weapon, deathly calm.

Heart aching at facing off to the man you once surrendered your entire life to, you try your luck again.

“I love you, Sangyeon,” it’s painful, but it’s true, “I have always loved you,”

The man in question snarls at you.

“F–forget about him. I’ll go away, okay? I’m the problem right? I’ll let you lock me up wherever you want. I– I’ll,” you have to blink to clear your vision as your heart rises to your throat again, “I’ll let you punish me however you want just please,” a shameful cry for mercy,

“Please let him go,”

“Too late for that darling,” is what Sangyeon whispers before he takes his aim.

Defeat overtakes your body and you close your eyes.

And then two shots are taken.

And two bodies fall.

But not yours.

Not yours.

A blood curdling scream bounces off the pristine walls of Sangyeon’s office before your knees hit the ground.

Pain.

Pain.

Pain.

All you see it white anguish.

On account of your closed eyes, you hadn’t seen Hyunjae move forward. Although your bullet struck Sangyeon right in the head, the bullet meant for your heart pierced through Hyunjae’s instead.

An unfortunate decision on his part, to move between you and your punishment when you had nothing left to live for without him. It seems to follow him everywhere– misfortune– pushing him between you and Sangyeon again and again.

You don’t get to yell at him for being so stupid. You don’t get to tell him you love him in spite of what he really wanted from you.

You don’t get to run away with him, for him to get a chance to love you, to start a family.

For you to tell him you understand why he hesitates and you don’t hold it against him.

For you to tell him you love him despite all that he can’t give you

You just stand still in the mess of blood and bodies as two pairs of blank eyes stare at you.

Left with incomplete promises and destroyed plans. The weight of a million responsibilities on your neck, slithering around your spine like a mocking snake– like Hyunjae’s blood pooling under you and tainting your skin, like Sangyeon’s smile even when his eyes are devoid of anything.

It was when you had made peace with death, that Hyunjae damned you to life.

A life of loneliness, the one thing you were running away from.

A/N - Well. It comes to an end. You’re allowed to yell at me in my inbox if u would like

Taglist - @chewryy @parkhonnie @from-xero @maybeifyoutrieddd @renjun-holic @heednpy @ilovechanhee @asmigirme @woowooju

[a-libra-writes]

OH SPEAKING OF BOBBY B WOULD YOU EVER WRITE HCS FOR BEING LIKE HIS DAUGHTER/LIKE JOFF’S TWIN OR SMTH AND ROBERT ACTUALLY LIKING YOU

-🐚🌌

i miss my dad so i guess thats why im doing these specific requests LOL

So, imagine the first child between Cersei and Robert. The one that survived a sickly cradle, against all odds. The one with hair that was unmistakably black, not gold. The one Cersei couldn't stand the moment every time she laid eyes on her in the crib, because of all her negative and hurt feelings toward Robert. This is back when she was still a teenager, and her fantasies about the brave Baratheon that toppled the Mad King turned to smoke and mirrors.

Needless to say... over the years, she'd take out a lot of her frustration on this kid.

Robert likes that the child laughs and runs and smiles. He's far too indulgent, allowing her to sit on his knee during tourneys even if Cersei finds them too violent. He has extravagant gifts for her, anywhere from expensive dolls made of silk or a whole pony. He'd even take her on hunting expeditions - even if his Kingsguard protested - showing her how to use a bow and boarspear, even if she's far, far too young and small to handle such weapons.

When Joffrey is born, Robert struggles to bond with him the same way. Joff doesn't laugh easily like his daughter did, instead he cries and screams all the time. Cersei protectively keeps him away, claiming Robert distresses the boy. In truth, she prefers Joff right away, because he's a boy, and a son of Jaime besides ... ... and deep down, she's always been hurt how her daughter seems to prefer Robert.

The more the girl grows up to be like him, the more Robert prefers her. If she's outgoing and laughs easily, he'd much rather spend time with her than a fussy Joffrey. If she's active and healthy, he'll want to teach her how to ride. He'd allow lessons with swords and spears if she begged enough, though Cersei would absolutely forbid it.

As the child gets older, she'd begin to notice her father breaking promises. Sometimes he smells too much like drink, and he loses his temper and yells at her mother. Her mother yells at him, yells at her. She can't seem to get her mother's favor, no matter how nicely she dresses or speaks.

Her grandfather Tywin is cold, distant and scary, and she knows her father dislikes him, so she hates coming to Casterly Rock. Uncle Jaime is strangely distant too, but at least Uncle Tyrion is kind and plays with her. He gives her books and encourages her to read to Myrcella and Tommen, and look after them. Uncle Stannis is a bit strict, but once he showed her all the ships on the harbor, and she always remembered that. Uncle Renly was almost as funny as her father, and always smelled better.

To Cersei, Robert's favor to their first child is beyond irksome. He should be favoring his first son, his heir! He's a little indulgent with Myrcella, and doesn't think too much about Tommen. She'll begin to criticize and pick at her eldest daughter, trying to cut down on traits that are too much like her father.

She'll quickly think of marriage, not caring that her daughter hasn't even had her first moonblood yet, not remembering how panicked and angry she was at her own father's plans to marry her quickly. She doesn't want Ned's oldest marrying her daughter, as much as Robert wants that match. In her anger, she almost wants to punish her husband and oldest daughter for having the gall to be so similar. She wants a match that will upset them.

If the girl was more tomboyish and fond of fighting, she'd win the argument to learn swords. It would be a huge wedge between Cersei and Robert, one of their big fights, but she'd learn. And she'd be good at it. If she was more ladylike and interested in the court, she'd begin to find her father's mistakes and cover for them at too young of an age. Lord Arryn would try to shield her from it, but, well ...

No matter what, by the time she's thirteen or fourteen, her idyllic image of her heroic, strong father would begin to tarnish. She'd see the drinking, the whores, the expensive feasts, the explosive fights with her mother. She'd notice the cruel tendencies in Joffrey, and would try to shield Myrcella and Tommen from not just him, but the rumors surrounding their father. She'd want them to stay sweet and good. She tried with Joffrey, but he never liked her. He was clearly Cersei's favorite, while she was clearly Robert's, and that meant they were tools during their parent's arguments.

She'd have no end of handmaidens from various wealthy kingslander families, and the loyal Kingsguard that were fond of her, and whatever pets she desired. She might still feel lonely in the Red Keep, and escape to the vast gardens to hide from her parent's fighting over who she'll marry. The feasts and parties were fun, but sometimes too tiring, and it seemed every knight and lord's son wanted to fight in her honor or be the first to dance with her.

And she'd start to notice that Lord Arryn and Uncle Stannis were asking her odd questions, or observing her as she played with her youngest siblings. She didn't hear them muttering about her black hair or loud laugh.

She'd have a lot on her plate, and a lot of pressure to work under. When Jon Arryn died and her father announced they were going North, a place she'd never been, to meet a man she'd heard so many stories about but never met... Well, it was an exciting adventure and a distraction. She even got to take her youngest siblings, and her father would let her ride with him if the road was safe. He even bought her a new, fine horse for the long journey.

He always told her war stories, but when he talked about these, he finally seemed happy. His blue eyes twinkled as he talked about the mischief he got up to in the Eyrie with his best friend Ned, who was more brother than his own brothers. He'd tell her about Winterfell, and how she might be the Lady of it someday.

"It only seems right to join our houses," Her father was saying. He didn't bother wearing the crown on this ride, and he was dressed in comfort instead of style. "It's what I've always wanted, but... I'll make sure that son of his is deserving of my girl. You're the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms! We'll have to have a talk with this wolf-boy of Ned's. We'll see if he's up to your standards."

Robert laughed, and it was hard not to smile. He meant it, she knew. He really did want what was best, and he'd been delaying marrying her away to whoever asked. She had cautious optimism when it came to her father's promises, but for now... it was a beautiful day, and they were having a nice ride.

[dropintomanga]

“My Brain Is Different” - Personal, To the Point and Much Needed

“These kids aren’t trouble. They’re in trouble and need our help.”

I’m so happy that I got a chance to check out Monzusu’s “My Brain Is Different: Stories of ADHD and Other Developmental Disorders.” While very heavy at times since the book forced me to look at my own experiences, I appreciate the various takes on how to handle mental conditions that are looked upon with ignorance.

There’s 9 different personal stories from Japanese people who have a developmental disorder and/or is close to someone who does have one. I’m going to go over every story with some thoughts.

Terms discussed here (ADHD = attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, ASD = autism spectrum disorder, LD = learning disability)

Monzusu (ADHD, 30s’) - The author herself. She talks about her childhood and her hyperactive mind. She never understood why she wasn’t able to be a “normal” person as she was always trying things and then quitting when things get too rough. When she got married and had a child who would later be diagnosed with ADHD, Monzusu then starts to figure things out once she knew her condition. I think this was a good start for what’s to come. I can relate to Monzusu’s apathy in her early days because I get so mentally overwhelmed that I really don’t want to do anything, but I know I have to do something.

Highroad (ASD/ADHD, Depression, ‘30s) - A man who never felt he could interact with people after high school and resorted to being a shut-in. He went to see a psychiatrist who would give him medication. Even after taking it, Highroad never genuinely improved and even attempted suicide after some time. It wasn’t until he got an official diagnosis and some help from a social service program that he found some consistent employment that he can handle.

I see myself quite a bit in Highroad. I went to a psychiatrist after I thought about suicide. I got medication and it never really helped. Also, Highroad comments about doing work that he can handle without any pressure. I struggle to do jobs that involve managing people in a team. There’s also another bit where he talks about interacting with people with mental disabilities and how he still feels out of place because they’re too different. I find myself in that gray zone (which is a recurring theme in the book) where I’m not mentally well, but not on the extreme end. I’m stuck in-between and out of place in the spectrum of things.

Also, finding a workplace that understands your mental condition is so important (even though having that kind of conversation is hard).

Iku (ASD/ADHD, Depression, ‘20s) - This story is somewhat similar to Highroad’s. He struggled with interactions with other people ever since he was a child. As Iku got older, he couldn’t handle things and resorted to suicide twice. It wasn’t until he got an official diagnosis and better medication that his life turned around.

I don’t know how I feel about this story as Iku says some things I’m not sure I’m comfortable with. The medication sounds too good at its job and he talks about how he still doesn’t have any friends and his emotions are somewhat numb. But he is getting by and he says a really important thing that I finally grasped myself after a long time - he’s learned to not hate himself at the very least. 

Hanako and her son, Tarou (ASD, Teens) - A mother talks about her struggles raising a child with ASD when everyone around her seems to be misunderstanding of her son’s condition. Hanako tries her absolute best to raise Tarou in a way where he can take care of himself and be respectful to those around him. When Tarou starts struggling with his schoolwork in junior high, he becomes disgruntled. It isn’t until he has a welcoming homeroom teacher and smart peers that he becomes better at learning. Tarou becomes the good and earnest kid that his mother wanted. 

I love Hanako and her husband for being fighters for Tarou all the way. But I love how school saved Tarou. A lot of times, school is awful because of the multiple hierarchies there. Tarou talks about how being around smart people made him want to try and find similar folks like them. While Hanako does wonder if that’s the right approach, it does help Tarou get by, right? 

Parents shouldn’t be the only ones fighting for their child. It really takes a village.

Matsubokkuri (ASD/ADHD/LD, Schizophrenia, ‘40s) - A woman with a very rough past tries to take care of her ailing mother. As a child, MB was considered too intelligent to the point that she was alienated by everyone around her.  It did not help that her parents fought with each other all the time and her siblings didn’t seem to get along either. She went out to take on various jobs with no ambition. At the age of 28, MB was asked to come home to take care of her mother. While the two talked it out and MB stayed for years, finances became super-tight and it became a struggle to survive. Burnout happened to MB and she had to quit her job to become a full-time caregiver. It didn’t help that her mother ends up in an accident at home one day. MB blames herself for it as she went to get a eating utensil for her mother, who was struggling to sit down at her chair and then slipped and fell. MB’s younger brother stops by to tell MB that she might have a developmental disorder. MB finds out that she does and decides to figure things out for herself at the age of 46 while leaving her mother in the care of medical professionals.

This was a lot to take in. I think reading MB’s story generated some fear about my ability to take care of my parents when they can’t do anything anymore. I’m approaching 40 myself and it feels like I have some things I still need to figure out too. Awful family history always seems to have a way to project itself in the worst times, but I hope MB finds some peace with her life now - whatever it may be.

Mamu (ADHD, Depression, 30s’) - A young woman who always seemed to make many mistakes and felt like she wasn’t trying hard enough. She felt that she didn’t have a developmental disorder for the longest time as she was great at school when she was a child. But after going through a serious case of depression and getting an official diagnosis with medical help, Mamu realizes that she really was trying her best. She manages to find work that doesn’t force her to multitask (one of her “flaws”) and allows her to make clear and concrete lists of what tasks she needs to do.

Mamu cries when she realizes she’s trying her best. I want to cry too because I sometimes feel like I’m not doing enough. Maybe I only had one person who said that I was doing the best I could. Mamu does talk about disability employment programs and I wonder back then, if I could have used that to help me during a time when I needed it. Those programs would have made me realize certain truths that I only now just know.

Risa (LD, ‘20s) - A young woman who has a somewhat overbearing mother. When Risa’s mother learns that Risa has a learning disability, she tries her best to make sure Risa studies hard. However, Risa still struggles in school and even gets bullied in junior high. Risa’s mother later realizes that Risa should just focus on practical life skills rather than standardized education. As time goes on, Risa starts to focus less on school and more about going out to work to support her mother. The two still argue about how Risa should live her life, but there appears to be a more mutual understanding as Risa shows that she can still function for herself.

Recently, I was with my mother who accompanied me to an eye doctor. The eye doctor, who I knew for a very long time, said that my mom seems to worry about me a lot. He said that I looked capable of handling things for myself. I did joke there’s some half-truth to what she says. My mother was always trying to support me the best way she could, but she sometimes feels that my brain is different (pun intended). I’m trying to prove her wrong a bunch, but I later realize that my mom has been letting me figure things out for myself. So yeah, Risa and her mom’s relationship is something I totally get.

Yuuto (ASD, Adjustment Disorder/Depression, ‘30s) - A loving wife who has to deal with her husband and daughter sharing the same developmental disorder. Because of their disorders, Yuuto (the husband) becomes enraged at her daughter when she does something that appears to irritate him. The daughter, Rin, gets irritated the same way. Cat-Paw Punch (the wife) tries to figure out a solution as both don’t know how to accept their conditions. Cat-Paw Punch learns about positive reinforcement and uses it to get through to Yuuto and Rin. They’re a happy family in the end despite not being a “normal” one.

I love this story. There’s a part where Cat-Paw Punch tells Yuuto to stop hitting Rin or get divorced. I know people with developmental disorders can’t help their behaviors, but they shouldn’t be enabled to continue them if they’re harmful. Even caretakers need boundaries. A lot of caretakers forget this. 

Yoshiko (ASD, Anxiety Disorder, Bipolar Disorder, ‘40s) - A woman with comorbidities who started off being a mess as a child. She always felt that she needed to be a proper child, but couldn’t. It wasn’t until junior high that a homeroom teacher convinced her to be more confident about herself. Yoshiko gets through high school and college and manages to get a job teaching kids with disabilities. It is there where she realizes that even though her childhood wasn’t great, she can use her experiences to help those whose experiences mirrored hers.

There’s a powerful moment in this story where Yoshiko struggles with volunteer work. She felt forced to do it as part of her college coursework. When she starts to struggle with volunteer work, her college counselor tells her it’s okay to quit when it’s not working. Yes, many adults tell you to never give up. But as they say, there’s a difference between courage and stupidity. It’s okay to give up on certain things as life happens. You can’t do everything despite what the life-hack industry tells you.

Also, the above quote at the start of this post is from this story. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the kids and even if things are really, really bad, they really need the help of others. 

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

There’s a nice conclusion from Monzusu about her discoveries about those living with developmental disorders. She wishes that one day, we’ll have a world where tools that help deal with developmental disorders are considered normal. I totally agree. I also started to feel that developmental disorders are real and honest reactions to adverse conditions caused by outside factors combined with genetics. Unfortunately, because of cultural standards and hierarchies, anyone living with them is considered ill and not worth anyone’s time.

I do like that there’s people who are okay with having developmental disorders even though there’s people who hate them. I think the most important thing to take from this book is that we need more personal tales from those living with all kinds of mental conditions. A concern I have of mine is when celebrities talk about having some kind of developmental condition and what not. While it’s nice that they share their diagnosis, it hasn’t really moved the needle for mental health system improvement in America. Also, celebrities have resources regular people do not have like amazing access to people who will help them at the drop of a bat. It’s hard to learn from them honestly. Most people with developmental disorders and mental illness are just like the ones featured in Monzusu’s book.

So yeah, read this manga. I’m all for a patient/consumer view of things because it’s either the experts (professionals/activists) or famous people who have a say. Our brains may be different, but what we have in common is that our voices are just lost in the gray zone in the advocacy side of things often and that reeks of a systemic developmental disorder that needs to be addressed.

Anime Feminist has an amazing post about Monzusu’s manga, so go read that too!

[ijustwant2write]

Fight or Flight-Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

(GIF credit to @ladycolinbridgerton​)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hiii,Love your writings! Could you do something Bridgerton, Anthony x reader where the reader tries to stop the duel and gets hurt? Angst/fluff?!’

Characters: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader, Daphne Bridgerton x Reader (sister-in-law), Collin Bridgerton x Reader (brother-in-law)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Duel (guns, mention of death), injuries, angst, fluff

                                    *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Collin and I laughed as we both carried Violet through the foyer of the home, clearly someone had too much to drink. My mother-in-law continued to deny this through her giggling.

“Of course not, you are completely sober.” Collin joked as we made it to the stairs.

“And I’m sober enough to know when you’re being impertinent.” Violet said to her son, still holding my hand.“Good night dears.”

“Good night mother.”

“Good night.”

Collin and I shared a look as she went upstairs, failing to hold in our laughter. We both doubled over as we laughed, until we heard someone call us. Turning to our left, we saw Anthony and Benedict in the doorway.

“Come here.” Anthony hissed.

“Good God. Did someone die?” Collin whined.

“What? What’s happened?” I asked, suddenly panicking. 

“Collin, get here, now.” Anthony instructed, his younger brother complying. 

I followed.“Anthony, what’s wrong? Is someone hurt? Are you in trouble?” I didn’t mean for all the questions but I loved him too much for something to happen to him.

He shoved Collin inside, stepping out and shutting the door behind him.“It doesn’t concern you darling. Just go up to bed.”

“Wait,” I grabbed onto his arm before he could get away,“Anthony, please don’t shut me out.”

“This isn’t for women’s ears. Please, do as I say.”

Anthony kissed my forehead tenderly, before he quickly ripped his arm away, looking sympathetic as he did so. The door shut, and although I was tempted to burst in there, I knew this was something out of my league. Sighing, I reluctantly walked away, slipping off my heels before slowly making my way upstairs. 

As I prepared for bed, my mind was distant. I couldn’t stop wondering what their meeting was about. Anthony looked stressed (even more than usual), and the fact that the eldest brothers were together meant this business was serious. Once my maids were finished and gone, I sat up in bed, having left some candles lit. At first I thought reading might take my mind off things, but the romantic novel only made me think of my husband more. I was tired from the ball, feet throbbing from dancing, which made me believe I could fall asleep. I wasn’t able to fool myself, unfortunately stuck awake again. Groaning in frustration, I stood, making my way to the door. I hesitated, wondering if I should really go storming downstairs when Anthony told me otherwise. No, I had to check on my love.

Opening the door, I heard someone else do the same. Poking my head out, I looked down the hall, seeing Daphne also awake. She rushed towards me, grabbing my hand without a word and dragging me out of my room.

“Woah, Daphne, woah, slow down!” I exclaimed quietly, stopping her at the top of the stairs.“Why are you rushing downstairs? What’s wrong?”

“My brother is doing something terribly stupid, and I cannot stand by doing nothing.” She said, tugging on my arm as she continued her route.

That made my heart beat even greater, terrified for what my husband could be a part of. I kept up with her, still tightly holding her hand until we burst into the room the men had their meeting in. Collin was the only one in there, looking alarmed when he saw us.

“Where have they gone?” Daphne demanded to know.

Collin sighed.“Daph-”

“Tell me where this duel takes place.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Duel?! Anthony has gone to a duel?! With who?!” I exclaimed. 

“So that I may prevent it from happening.” Daphne continued.

“Hastings has done you a grave dishonour.”

“Can someone please explain what is happening?” I stood beside them, though neither took any notice.“What does the Duke of Hastings have to do with any of this?”

“Surely you wish to see him pay?”

“Not with his life.” Daphne snapped back.

“Anthony is dueling with Hastings?! What if they kill each other?”

“It will not come to that.” Collin finally addressed me.“The Duke will remember his honour once he finds himself on the deadly end of a pistol.”

“And if he does not?” Daphne said.

“They will both do the gentlemanly thing and fire their pistols wide. Now allow them to bring this ugly business to a conclusion themselves.”

Daphne groaned as I began pacing around the room.“Do you know how many times I’ve heard that said? Myself and (Y/N)? That we should leave the men to their business and to not concern ourselves with such weighty affairs? Whose affairs, right now, are my future, my family.”

“This isn’t going to end well, you know it Collin.” I stopped walking around, crossing my arms over my chest in frustration.

“(Y/N) is right. Anthony is too angry to fire wide and Simon is too stubborn to yield. You did not see them in that garden.”

“No, I did not, and neither did anyone else. You should be happy that no one saw anything.” Collin pointed out.

So something dishonourable happened in the gardens of the party. Something that has cause my husband to want to duel an old friend. Part of me felt slightly angered towards Daphne, she had been playing with fire around the Duke, it’s all Anthony went on about for the last few weeks.

“Only someone did see.” Daphne realised.

Collin and I stared at her wide eyed.

“Cressida Cowper. Collin, you must tell me where they’ve gone.”

“I’m coming with you.” I declared. 

“Neither of you are going, Anthony will have my head-”

“Collin.” I stood in front of him, putting on the angriest face I could.“My husband may be about to lose his life and I knew nothing about it. Believe me, he will be reprimanded for that, but if you do not tell us where these stupid men are right now, it will be me having your head, not Anthony!”

After pressuring Collin to reveal where the men were, we raced to the stables, both Daphne and I still in our nightgowns, with only a cloak to cover us from the wind whipping against us as we rode. Our poor horses were not expecting this early call, using what energy they had to gallop as fast as possible. My throat was dry, heart racing and mind drowning with thoughts about what could be happening right now. Had they even started? Were the shots fired? 

We rode out of the country and into large fields. It seemed that we would never reach them in time. I kept my eye out for any signs of people or horses, praying that my husband wouldn’t be bleeding out on the ground. Why hadn’t he told me? He hadn’t even said goodbye. All I got was a simple kiss on the forehead, nothing other than that. Even if he did survive, he would have to leave this place, but was he going to leave without me?

“There they are!” Daphne shouted to us, speeding her horse ahead.

“Daphne! Wait!” I yelled after her, but she was too far away.

There were multiple bodies up ahead, and it looked like the duel had only just started, they were taking their steps already. I urged my horse to go faster, screaming Anthony’s name, but he couldn’t hear me. The men turned, ready to aim and fire. Tears started falling down my cheeks, quickly drying from the wind hitting my face. I was getting so close, but it still wasn’t enough. Daphne had somehow made it to them, but as the gunshots echoed out, she was caught in the middle of it, her horse rearing up and throwing her off.

As she landed on the ground, my horse also got spooked, rearing up as hers did, though I managed to stay on. However, it went hurtling forwards, and I couldn’t regain any control. I screamed as I tried to grab the rein again, feeling my balance slip away. One minute I was managing to stay upright on the horse, the next I had fallen off to my left, with my foot still hooked onto the stirrup. My head hit the ground harshly, and I was dragged through the dirt and grass as my horse continued to gallop. I couldn’t make out where I was, or what was right or left. Suddenly, the horse started slowing down, the dragging finally stopping. As I figured out where I was, my head still spinning, I felt someone lift my leg out of the stirrup and slowly onto the floor. 

“(Y/N), (Y/N) can you hear me?” Anthony gently held my face in his hands, kneeling beside me.

“My head...” I moaned.

“It’s alright, my dear.” an older man appeared, and I only just realised he was also kneeling beside me.“You’ve hit your head quite hard, you’ll likely have bruises along your back, and your leg will ache. But it’s nothing rest won’t fix. If you have severe headaches, you should call upon me again to give you something for it. For now, I shall forget I ever saw any of this, just as we agreed.”

“Thank you doctor.” Anthony breathed out, helping me sit up as the doctor walked away. 

I clung onto his arm, using my other hand to pull his face closer to mine. I kissed him hard, relieved that he was still alive and unharmed. He seemed to be feeling the same way as me, until I pulled away and slapped him round the face. His mouth was open in shock.

“That’s for going to a duel without telling me.” 

“(Y/N), I...what?”

“I can’t believe you thought you could just go and get shot, or shoot someone and leave me behind! What would happen to me? I couldn’t bear it if you died, or left, either way, I am furious with you!”

“Darling, I had to do it. He dishonoured Daphne, therefore, dishonouring our name.” 

I tried to stand by myself, though felt dizzy, annoyed that I had to have Anthony to help me. He kept his arms around me, and although I loved the feeling, knowing he was safe, I had a hatred for him in that moment.

“But why wouldn’t you tell me?” I looked up at him, ignoring the throbbing in my head.

“We would have to leave society, make a life as...I don’t know what but we wouldn’t be allowed here anymore.”

“So? Do you really think I regard myself so highly that I would diminish my love for you to remain in society?”

“What?”

“Anthony, I would rather leave all of this behind, and be with you wherever you go in the world. That fact that you think I would prefer to live without you hurts me.”

“(Y/N), I didn’t mean-”

I slipped out of his hold, hopefully stable now.“I don’t want to speak of this right now. I’m finished with this topic of conversation.”

Anthony knew there was no point trying to reason with me in that moment. It was also no time to argue when there were more pressing matters at hand. He huffed, only walking away from me once Collin approached, letting me loop my arm through his for support. I watched as he glared at Simon, who was in a deep discussion with Daphne. 

��We must resume before someone should find us.” he said to Simon before taking a pistol from Benedict again.

“There will be no need to resume.” Daphne spoke up. We all looked at her, wondering how she was going to stop the duel.“The Duke and I are to be married.”

                                     *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

We had all ensured we were home before any of the staff could see us, slipping out of our dirty clothes and stuffing them under the bed. I had struggled, feeling nauseous as I rushed. But as I lay down in bed, my headache suddenly returning and my back aching, I heard the door lock. Anthony threw the key onto his desk in the room, hands on his hips as he paced. 

“Anthony.” I tried to stop him.“Anthony, please don’t do that.”

“I’m thinking (Y/N).” he mumbled.

“Then why don’t you think in your office? You’re making me dizzy. And nervous.”

“Do not speak to me like that. You do realise how this might tarnish our name?”

“They’re getting married, it will be fine Anthony.”

“It does not matter, he still dishonoured her, I saw it myself.”

“And you have not done that yourself in the past?”

That made him stop in his tracks. His head turned to me so quickly I though his neck would snap off.“They were not eligible ladies.”

“And that makes a difference? Anthony, I need to rest, please leave me.” I turned onto my side, pulling the covers higher so they almost covered my face.

He groaned, and I instantly regretted what I had said. His footsteps were loud as he made his way to the door, but I never heard it being unlocked. He sounded like he was now approaching the bed, and I found out I was right when the bed dipped in front of me me. I opened my eyes to see Anthony shuffling around, and I heard two light thumps on the floor from taking off his boots, before he lifted and covers; he shuffled in towards me, gently putting his arm under my pillow, moving as close as he could to me.

“You are right.” his voice was quieter now.“I, along with many men, have...done things in the past. Those women are, were meant for those things, but as soon as I saw you in the room, I knew I had to approach you. I remember that beautiful blue dress you were wearing, and how well you held yourself. But you were still so enticing, I found you to be so interesting, yet you only spoke with me for five minutes. You danced so elegantly, yet I still thought I could keep up with you.”

“If you are trying to make me swoon so I forget all about earlier, it isn’t working. You use the same story every time.” I said.

“Because it’s one of the best ones. I could retale about the time I saw you first promenading, the balls and social events we coincidentally went to, how I called upon your house-”

“Anthony, you may stop.” I tried not to giggle, but my smile was evident.“I am still angry at you for putting yourself in such an idiotic and dangerous situation. However, I deeply admire your love for your family, I know you would do anything for them. Just...if you ever do anything like that again, you are to inform me of your plans. I go wherever you go.”

“I promise. I was stupid to think I could do that to you. I just wanted to make sure you would still have a good life.”

“The only way I would have a good life is by being with you.”

Anthony smiled, tenderly kissing me.“You should rest darling. You’re hurt.”

“As long as you stay here with me.”

“I promise.”

[lunmelia]

I’m gonna rant for a bit, because after thinking about it for a solid 1 minute Supernatural had so much potential to make Sam and Dean’s relationship with Mary extremely strange, but in a “I just came back from the dead and to a world I don’t know, I cannot handle being a mom to 2 grown adults who are older than me so actually we’re siblings now” kind of way. Hear me out.

Just... imagine. You’re 29, you have 2 sons, one who’s 4-years-old and the other who is only 6 months. You die. 33 years later, you’re alive again but you’re still 29, and you’re faced with your 2 now adult sons, one who is now 8 years older than you, and the other 4 years older. Your sons are literally now older than you. They have experienced life for longer than you have. Your oldest has wrinkles and you don’t. How fucking weird is that!!

Just the... complexity that kind of relationship would have. I did love how they approached Mary in the show, how they had Dean confront her and how we later find out that Amara brought her back just so Dean could face reality and not paint his mum as a saint but like... it could’ve been so much more weird. That kind of situation just calls for weird. 

That scene where Mary ordered them dinner should have been so much more awkward and not as comfortable and light-hearted as it was. What if Mary just outright told them “I don’t cook” and they’re like “uh... okay, well, we could order?” and she perks up like “order?” and she’s thinking oh cool they’ll just call the nearest pizza place but no, her sons pull out a mobile phone and they try to teach her how to use the app but she just gets frustrated and doesn’t get it so they give up, Dean orders and they spend the time waiting teaching her how to use a phone. And okay kids are usually teaching their parents how to use technology but this is just weird because her sons are older than her. Then the food gets there and she’s like “why don’t I serve it?” because that’s what mothers do, right? But it feels weird and awkward and wrong because they’re grown men so she shouldn’t have to mother them, right? And they eat in silence and it’s so fucking awkward and all of them know it’s awkward and after a moment Mary goes “... Dean, do you uh... do you still like pie?” and he says yes and it’s a huge fucking relief but at the same time it’s fucking not because that’s all she knows!! that’s all she knows about her son and thank fuck he still likes pie but that’s all she knows.

And just- Mary having a full breakdown because she always wanted to be a mother, that’s all she wanted. She just wanted to drop the hunter life and be a mother and just live a normal fucking life for once and she can’t. She can’t. That life was ripped away from her and now her sons are adults and older than her and she didn’t raise them and they’re hunters and she’s a hunter again and she can’t be a mother. Her sons are hunters and she never wanted that and it makes her nauseous and makes her head hurt. And Sam and Dean find her sobbing in one of the bathrooms next to the toilet and they hold her close until she stops shaking. They comfort her because she can’t comfort them. She only knows how to be a mother to a 4-year-old and a baby, she can’t be a mother to them. 

And you know what? Sam and Dean are oddly okay with that. All they wanted growing up was a mother to care for them, to cook them food and be there to hold them when things got bad. But now that they have their mother in front of them? They realise that they don’t really... need her. Not Mary sepcifically, but just a mother. They’ve survived the past 33 years without a mother, and sure it was shitty but it happened and they’re used to it. They’re grown men, they don’t need a mother. Sure, it would’ve been nice but when Mary tried again the next day by making them scrambled eggs with a forced smile they just cringed. They don’t need a mother. It sucks, and they wish so bad that they had one growing up, maybe things would’ve been better, but they’ve dealt with this for the past 33 years and they’re good. 

So, okay, she’s not their mum. She is, but she’s not. Really, they’re just strangers trying to get to know each other. And so they do. They spend time together, so much they eventually become insperable. Not in a separation anxiety kind of way, but when Mary isn’t desperately trying to play the mother role the three just click and make a kickass team. They can’t call her “mom” in public because she obviously looks younger than them so when they’re out shopping or anywhere else they just call her Mary and introduce her as their sister. It works, it’s believable because they look related, they are, but no one blinks when they refer to her as a sister. 

And eventually they stop calling her “mom” and start just calling her Mary. And “mom” becomes a rare word, a word used in dark moments where one of them is frantically putting pressure on a wound that won’t stop bleeding, or when Mary finally breaks free of the British Men of Letters’ brainwashing. But one day Dean takes a sip from a beer, puts it down and is quiet for a moment before saying “... I think we’ve accidentally adopted our mom as our sister” and Sam just goes “yep” and cue John Mulaney ‘you know those days when you’re like “this might as well happen”? adult life is already so goddamn weird’ and it’s just. that just becomes their dynamic. 

She’s not their mum, they’re not her sons, so the relationship dynamic they adopt is siblings. And the concept is so fucking weird but it feels more normal to them than her being their mum. She’s just now their little sister and they’re her big brothers and it’s like “huh. okay. didn’t expect this to happen but okay” 

Like it’s STRANGE but I think their situation calls for it!! This is SUPERNATURAL!! Let it be fucking weird!! She’s their mum but no! Now she’s their little sister!! Imagine the humor opportunities! 

Mary starts to date and she dates a hunter who isn’t aware of the situation and it’s like Sam and Dean act like protective older brothers and give the person the “you hurt her she’ll hurt you, good luck” talk but also

Hunter: so... ever thought of settling down and having kids? Mary, immediately panicking like should she tell them?? is this an appropriate topic to introduce on the third date? she can’t even wikihow this! she tried and nothing came up!: uhhhh

And also after Jack is born and I’m just gonna sprinkle some baby!jack AU in this, after Dean is like *points to Jack* this is my son and *points to Cas* this is my husband Mary’s like

Mary: damn... I’m a 30-year-old grandmother. I don’t wanna be a 30-year-old grandmother Sam: technically you’re 63 Mary: technically I died when I was 29, was dead for 33 years, got brought back to life and was still 29 so you can shut your face I’m a 30-year-old grandmother Dean: I thought we all agreed you’re more like our sister Mary: not when it comes to being a grandmother. I can’t handle being your mom but I can certainly handle being Jack’s grandma Cas: I’m confused... I thought you just said you don’t want to be a grandmother Mary, holding Jack up: I’m a grandma now

[imagine-a-fangirl]

A/n: Welcome to my first bridgerton fanfic, which will eventually become an anthony bridgerton x female! reader fanfic. This is a bit of an introduction chapter, so it will get better I promise The ton, the high society of London. If you were someone who mattered you were a part of it. The young ladies that came out into society all had the same goal in mind, marry the one person who can give you the best live, with love only being a small part in those arrangements.

Your family had moved away from London after the passing of your mother. Your father couldn’t cope with the memories London held and decided to move towards the Netherlands. He went back every so often for business and travelled around a lot, giving you and your brothers all the freedom you would never have had in London. You had come out into society a couple years back already, your father needed to handle some business in London and took you with him. That way you could be presented at court and he could take you to the debutant ball before travelling back to the Netherlands. He wanted you to be out in society, just so you could have gotten married if there had been any eligible men. But there you were returning to London, joining society and the ton for real this time.

“It will be alright.” Thomas tried to calm your nerves while he helped you out of the carriage. Your father still had to arrive in London, meaning your brothers escorted you to your first ball of the season. You didn’t really mind, this way you could get used to the pressure of the ton again without your father constantly watching over you.

As the oldest Thomas always felt the urge to support and protect you, and he saw it as his duty to find you someone who suited you perfectly. Nicholas on the other hand was more easy going, he looked out for you as well but he was always open to let you try new things. Both of them were the reason you had been able to do things a lady would never be able to do otherwise.

The three of you walked into the ballroom, heads of many men turning your way. You knew they were mostly just curious, especially the slightly older men who had yet to marry. A new woman your age was rare but here you were. “You remember any of these men?” You asked Thomas

“Some of them, old friends. Not sure if they are the right suitors." He answered honestly

“We will figure out who is for you.” Nicholas

After an hour of introductions, catching up with old friends and even a dance you noticed no other than the Duke of Hastings joining the room. “Will you excuse me for a moment?” You excused yourself from your current company and quickly made your way through the crowd. “Your Grace!” you greeted your old friend before quickly making a small curtesy as was expected of you.

“Lady y/n, have they finally convinced you to join society?” Simon returned the curtesy “Convinced is a big word your Grace, forced me comes closer.” You tried to brush it off with a joke "Well I'm sure there are a lot of eligible gentlemen that are glad you did." He had already noticed multiple men looking your way. "How wonderful." You answered sarcastically. “To what does the ton owe the pleasure of a visit from its newest Duke?” “I was forced to be here as well.” “I didn’t know it was possible for a Duke to be forced into doing anything.” “Tell that to Lady Danbury, she doesn’t take no for answer.” “She can be very convincing.” You agreed. “At least we will be able to suffer together, shall we go for a walk around the room.” He suggested “It would be my pleasure, your Grace.” You said before linking your arm and walking with him. Your walk mostly consisted of him telling what he came to do and the fact that you were forced to search a husband. That was until your conversation was harshly interrupted by a man. “Basset? Basset!”

“Bridgerton!” Simon excitedly greeted his friend as he let go of you.

“Come here old friend, I heard news about your father.” It only then seemed to hit the man what that meant for Simons name “Hastings, for ever more known as the Duke of Hastings.”

You observed the gentleman as they continued their conversation, your mother had been friends with the viscountess when you were little, but your mother often kept you away from the boys. She felt like you were already influenced greatly by your brothers and didn’t want others to do the same. Because of that you couldn’t immediately point out if this was either the Viscount you were looking at or Benedict. The man’s eye fell on you and you made a small curtesy, which he returned with a bow of his head. Before turning back to Simon “I can see you are occupied right now. So we should properly get together, I expect to see you at our club then.”

“Indeed, evening Bridgerton.” Simon bid his goodbyes to his friend and continued his walk with you “Was that Benedict or the Viscount?” You asked Simon “That was The Viscount, Anthony. You know the Bridgertons?” “My mother was friends with the Viscountess, but I didn’t go as often as she or my brothers. To many men to influence me. “That certainly made a difference.” You shook your head “Is your father escorting you this evening?” “No Thomas and Nicholas are, father will arrive in London in three days.” “You don’t seem to excited for that?” Simon noticed your change in mood “It’s not that I’m not excited to see him, but I just hope he doesn’t expect me to be married at the end of the season.” “You know he probably will.” “That is what I am afraid of.” You agreed. “Let’s go the other way.” Simon suddenly said, softly pushing you in a different direction then you were walking.

“Lady y/n, how wonderful to see you finally joining society. Haven’t you grown in a beautiful young woman.” “To late.” Simon whispered, causing you to let a small chuckle escape. “Thank you, Lady Danbury.” You curtsied as you got your act together again “It’s so wonderful to see you, how have you been?" “I’ve been wonderful dear. I see you’ve already met the Duke.” Lady Danbury seemed a bit too happy with herself “The Duke and I have actually known each other for a couple years.” “Have you now?” It wasn’t often Lady Danbury wasn’t aware of everything that happened within society and it seemed she wasn’t too happy about it.

“We have, we met in France actually.” Simon told her.

“Very well, then is there a reason we haven’t seen the two of you on the dance floor yet?”

“Let’s not get to far ahead of ourselves.” Simon insisted. After some small talk you excused yourself to go find your brothers again “I’ll see you around Lady y/n.” Simon told you.

At one point during the evening you were caught in a dull conversation with Lord Berbrooke. Every time Lord Berbrooke came a little closer you took a small step back, keeping your distance until you bumped into the woman behind you. “I am so sorry.”

“That is quite alright, dear.” The woman smiled, she seemed very familiar but you couldn’t quite place her. Lord Berbrooke kept continuing his one sided conversation with you and you kept looking around the room for an escape. When you spotted Simon again in a corner, observing the room and you as well. “Ask me to dance.” You mouthed towards Simon to get him to save you. You were lucky enough he understood you and he paced towards the two of you.

“Lord Berbrooke may I interrupt?

“Your Grace, of course.” Lord Berbrooke seemed caught off guard that the duke wanted to join his conversation and Simon used the moment to turn his attention to you.

“Lady y/n would you care for a dance?

“Of course your Grace.” He held out his hand which you happily accepted “Thank you for saving me.” You whispered once out of hearing distance.

“You owe me one, a big one.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time you are distressed by a mother.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

As the music started the two of you moved across the room as if you had never done anything else. “For someone who doesn’t dance, you are quite skilled your Grace.” y/n grinned

“Do you want me to return you to Lord Berbrooke or will you stop the teasing.”

“I’ll be stopping the teasing at once your Grace.” You laughed

“Thank you.” When the set ended Simon guided you off the floor, the furthest away from Nigel and escorted you back to your brothers.

“I heard of the presence of the Duke of Hastings, I did not expect him to act on my sister so soon.” Thomas joked when he saw the two of you walking over.

“Only saving her from some unwanted suitor.” He held his hands up in defense before greeting Thomas.

“I didn’t expect anything else from her old friend. Was lord Berbrooke bothering you?”

“He was.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” Thomas promised you.

“Thank you.”

“Before I forget I ran into Lady Bridgerton, she invited us for dinner with her family.” Thomas informed you “I already accepted her invitation, if that’s alright with you.”

“I’m sure we will have a lot of catching up to do with them.” You agreed The rest of the evening consisted of more dancing, conversations and introductions. Simon stayed close to the three of you most of the evening, as it gave him an easy excuse not to converse with other. And you caught the eye of many more men. You were even re introduced to three members of the Birdgerton family. As soon as Thomas had done that you knew the familiar woman you had bumped into earlier that night, had been Lady Bridgerton herself. You apologized once more for bumping into her earlier, but she played it off with a joke. Your re introduction to the Bridgerton family resulted in a dance with both Benedict and Colin. Where dancing with the other men made you slightly nervous, dancing with them felt familiar. Just as your dance with Simon had, it was as if you never done anything else. It had only been your first evening back into society, everything in you told you this could be an interesting season.

[urlkssknt]

nanami kento x fem!reader (2.9k)

nsfw!! mdi!!

warnings; unprotected sex, it’s just very soft and vanilla

a/n; this is a scene from a series i might write, i’m not sure if i want to commit to it, please let me know your thoughts, feedback is much appreciated!

The marriage announcement caught you off guard, it felt like someone had thrown you into the deep end of a pool and you didn't know how to swim, drowning slowly in the snarky whispers from the attendants of the party that reached your ear - wasn't he married to Y/n? Poor girl, I wouldn't be able to show my face if I was her. Many eyes around the room turned towards you in anticipation, waiting for some display of anger or a rage-induced outburst. Much to their disappointment, you stood your ground. You wouldn’t let the perfectly crafted mask fall from your face, especially not now, you couldn’t let the woman, who held a leash over your ex, know she caused an effect on you.

From a distance over, Satoru watched you closely through the peripheral of his sharp vision, you leaned further into the dark long haired man standing beside you to whisper something into his ear. Suguru handed you a small rectangular box discreetly. He was equally as shocked as you. Satoru expected Toji to pull a stunt like this, maybe another pregnancy announcement or a business merger. He never expected it to be announced publicly, in a Gojou family setting. Whilst claps of congratulations sounded around the hall, Gojou's cold gaze threw daggers towards your ex-husband, standing beside your parents with a hand on the waist of his fiancée. The sight of gleaming smiles across your parent’s faces made Satoru feel sick to his stomach. The white haired man also took a mental note of the people who seemed genuinely happy for the wretched couple. Those people didn't realise that they had gotten onto Gojou Satoru's bad side and ruined any promising positive relationship with the businessman.

There was a chill in the evening air as you stood on the balcony, you were grateful no one else was outside to witness the devastation on your face, only the night sky being witness to the single teardrop that fell along the expanse of your cheek. The cold air nipped at the bare skin of your arms and neck, raising the fine hairs which run all along your skin. As a thought of regret for not bringing a jacket along with you popped into your mind, you opened the cigarette packet that Suguru handed to you, bringing one up to your lips to rest as you fish for a lighter in your purse, praying that you had one despite having quit the disgusting habit years ago.

The temperature of the chilling air around you rises as a warming presence pressed against your back, you only relax when the familiar scent of rich cologne mixed with cinnamon infiltrates your senses, allowing yourself to melt into the heated hands that run along your naked arms.

"Do you even have a lighter?" Kento questions as you continue to search through your bag, which was so small, the blond was sceptical about it being big enough to fit any necessities.

Peering up through your lashes, your azure eyes narrowed at him as your lips formed into a deep scowl. Kento was right, you didn’t have a lighter, specifically for scenarios like this, where your fingers are itching to grab at the first intoxicant to cloud your mind. Smoking would help calm the stress that scratches the walls of your brain as the tobacco fills your bloodstream.

“Suguru probably has one-“ you mutter under your breath, speaking with the white stick sitting comfortably between your lips before a hand quickly reaches for it and throws the small object off the balcony, out of sight and out of reach. “What the hell-“ there was little time to process the sudden action as your words are cut short with kento’s palms encasing your face to tilt your head slightly and allow him to lower his lips onto yours in a short kiss. The anger that rushed through your veins quickly dissolved, leaving as fast as it was produced.

A small smile creeped along your lips, “maybe I should take up smoking again.”

Kento couldn’t help the chuckle that let up his throat, his eyes crinkling in the same way that the twin’s did. His hands dropped from your face to hold your hips over the silk material, pulling you closer towards him, your breasts pressing against his chest.

“Let's get out of here.”

Earlier, before he followed your footsteps to check on you, Kento felt a strong grip latch on his arm to prevent him from moving further. The culprit was your brother. Satoru held an intimidating aura, his sapphire eyes bearing a look cold enough to pierce skin. The older man whispered short words to Nanami, advising him to take you away from the party, in order to protect you.

As Kento was texting the babysitter he had hired for the night, making sure his kids were safely sleeping in their beds, you were checking in with the two Zen’in girls that were looking after Megumi for the night. Maki and Mai loved spending time with you, when you announced the divorce with their cousin, they were undeniably upset, not because Toji’s heart was broken but it meant they wouldn’t be able to see you as often.

It wasn't as difficult as you thought it might be to locate the hotel room. Thankfully, both of you were in a conscious state of mind, avoiding the sparkling alcoholic beverages being served in crystal flutes. The hand on the curve of your waist held you close to Kento’s embrace. Just from a short glance, any onlooker would be able to know you were his, there was a loving atmosphere surrounding you two which was hard to miss, from the pearly smile painting your glossy lips to the radiant sparkling of gold among the hues of brown. The booked room was found quickly. Anticipation began to bubble in your stomach, you felt excited to spend the night with such a handsome man, again.

All of your hair was pushed to one side on your shoulder, exposing the tender flesh of your neck. A beautiful and plain canvas just waiting to be painted with deep and dark shades of pinks and purples. The plain sight caused a stir in Kento’s mind, he desired to mark you, in a way he knew no one ever would. Acting on impulse, the father of two kissed a spot where your neck met your shoulder so lightly it felt like petals brushing against your skin. A smirk found its home along Kento’s lips when you craned your head to the side, offering more of yourself to him. The innocent kisses progressed into deep bites, a sudden sharp nip against your pulse point causing a gasp to slip into the air. You couldn’t care less if a horrible bruise formed from Kento's lustful ministrations, his scent clouded your mind like a drug, your thoughts swirling into nothing. Your attention was fixated on the hands wandering from their place on your hips to groping your breasts through the silken material of your dress, sending arsoul to pool in your panties.

A deep timbre tone filled your ears, you turned to face the man speaking. “Would you like to know my new favourite colour?” Kento doesn’t wait for your answer, his hands squeeze at your chest again with more pressure, sadly eliciting another gasp from your lips. The corners of Kento's lips turn downwards ever so slightly, he had hoped that his ears would have been graced with a moan. “Sage green.”

The blond guides you to the queen-sized bed, lined with the finest material he had ever seen, Kento didn’t expect anything less from your brother, who handed him the key card. The hotel room was grand, almost as big as his own apartment, which was quite large.

Kento sits himself against the headboard with his suit jacket and tie discarded somewhere on the floor, falling victim to your travelling hands, eager to undress him. The clothing was no longer his concern as you situated yourself in his lap, thick thighs straddling his waist the best you could in the confinement of your dress. “Tonight,” Kento's eyes move from the swells of your breasts, your cleavage in his direct eye line, to meet your gleaming eyes. He was surprised to find his own reflection in them. “I'm yours.” The words felt heavy on his tongue and heart, it felt like he was confessing to you again, proving to himself that it was you that his heart yearns for.

Slowly, you clamber off of the blond man’s lap without voicing your intentions, not missing how his hands reach out to hold onto you for a moment longer, you giggle lightly at the display of clinginess, never expecting such a stoic man to behave like that. It was refreshing. It reassured the persistent whispers in the back of your mind that Kento wanted you like you wanted him. as you stood at the foot of the bed, you kicked off your nude heels, dropping your height by a few inches. A laugh fell upon your ears, Kento was amused, his smile hidden from your eyes behind his palm. However, the light atmosphere shifted when the sound of a zipper filled the room. Swiftly, the dress dropped to the floor from the pull of gravity, leaving you exposed except for the black lace thong, which barely hid anything from his eyes. Kento wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse.

Finally, it was your turn to smirk when your sharp eyes caught the growing tent of Kento's trousers.

Slowly, you crawled along the bedsheets at an agonising pace, it felt like hours before you finally reached your destination. Within an instant, you felt two large palms squeeze at the pudgy skin of your hips. You couldn’t help but press your hands against Kento's chest, fingers running aimlessly as you met his lips, kissing him with such desire, as if you had planned to devour him.

“Do you know what good boys get, Mister Nanami?” you say in a sultry tone, the touches of the small pads of your fingertips tracing unrecognisable shapes along his chest becoming distractive.

The words registered into the blond’s mind, you had previously asked the same question to the three toddlers, in hopes of containing their erratic behaviour in the kitchen. This should have been degrading, yet, despite using the childish question, a rational voice in Kento’s mind screamed at him to just give in for once.

“Rewards,” it was the same answer Sukuna gave you, it was the correct answer. However, Kento's voice only managed to speak just above a breath, finding himself unable to trust his own voice.

“Well done daddy,” you praised him with a sweet kiss, a shiver running up his neck, before making an effort to unbutton the shirt, “treat me nicely and I’ll reward you.”

All the remaining pieces of clothing were thrown off hurriedly, desperate to feel the pure heat of Kento's unbelievably hot body. It stunned you how he was constantly warm, maybe you could make him your personal heater.

Kento couldn’t help but groan loudly as your hips grinded against his dick, coating him with your wetness, he felt himself throbbing against your folds, ever so desperate to fill you to the brim. As if reading his mind, the teasing touches paused as you lined your entrance up with his cock, only after giving the hard member a few pumps with your hand. The broad shoulders of the businessman were used as an anchor, you cling onto him desperately as you sink onto his dick. In the span of a few hours, you had completely forgotten the thickness of kento’s sex, surprising yourself as you struggle to relax yourself to take him in. Wanton moans fell from both parties as you stayed still for a few seconds to get used to the burn from his fat cock stretching you. The hands on your waist squeeze tightly to help Kento ground himself from rutting up into you. Being enveloped with your warm cunt felt too good, especially when the gummy walls clamped around him, you were all he could think about.

Just from the position alone, the soft tissue of nerves which caused you to see stars were grazed upon, you couldn’t stop the moan escaping from your lips. “I could cum like this,” you relish in the feeling of the palms coaxing the movement of your hips and the mouth that latches onto your mound. A sharp nip against your peak leads to you arching into Kento's mouth, desperate for more of his touches. Despite spending the night before together, the pair of you couldn’t get enough of each other. Not when your tits would bounce as you raised your hips and begin a steady rhythm of grinding against Kento’s lap, each slam against his hips hitting a spot that causes your head to spin. The vision of you on top of him, riding his cock like your life depended on it, spurred the coil tightening in the pit of his stomach. The wetness that pooled between your thighs now began to drip down onto the pelvis of the man below you. A mixture of juices squelching and low moans sounded throughout the room. You had no time to feel embarrassed by the pornographic noises as you desperately chased your high.

“You’re making me feel so good angel,” a sense of pride blooms in Kento's chest as he feels you clenching around him from his praise. His hands stretched lower to graze his fingers over your ass, they latched onto you, his nails creating deep crevices in the area that would still be there in the morning.

You could no longer think straight, completely drunk off of Kento's cock, filling you up so well you wished he’d never leave. A numbness started to form in your thighs, creating a painful burn as you continued to move up and down, pushing through the pain and reaching for your high. From the hand gripping his hair and the way your walls were spasming, Kento knew you were so close to cumming, you just needed a little push. The brush of his thumb circling your clit leans you over the edge and causes your orgasm to hit you like a wave. Kento groaned loudly as you creamed his cock and gripped onto him like a vice. The man felt kind enough to let you catch your breath, he was still painfully hard and so close to his own high.

“As much as I’d like to be rewarded,” a cheeky smile spread through Kento’s lips, chocolate eyes sparkling at you with excitement. His playful and cheery expression leaves as quick as it comes, you almost whine in protest as he uses his strength to pull you off of his lap, and gently lays you down against the bed. The giddy look in Kento's eyes darkens to a lustful stare as your blown out eyes meet his. “Daddy wants to cum, so be a good girl and help daddy out.”

It hadn’t been longer than a few moments since your climax, you had barely calmed down. Without a second thought, Kento thrusts into your sopping entrance, your cum still coating his dick which makes it easier for him to slide back into your cavernous walls. A cry emmits from you due to the overstimulation. The feeling of being filled up again overtook the discomfort you experienced, it felt so good that you could cry from it, it was as if kento was made to fit inside your cunt so deliciously. The hands on your hips migrate to your thighs, pushing them up so that your knees are almost next to your head. Somehow, the angle of the position allows Kento to hit deeper into you.

“Fu- fuck,” your mind is lost for words as it completely blanks, no longer have the ability to form a coherent sentence.

A layer of sweat covers the blond’s body. The slapping sound returns as Kento's heavy balls hit against you with every rut. It was astonishing that the bed frame didn’t move with his frantic movements. Each thrust of his hips were more calculated than the next, earning a cry from you each time as his cockhead continuously came into contact with your g-spot. Kento knew he’d only be able to last through a few more thrusts. From the way your thighs quivered, your second orgasm was closer than he thought.

“Cum with me angel,” Kento's lips found yours in a haste of teeth clashing against each other, desperate to feel closer to you. As soon as the coaxing words fall on your ear, your walls clench around him as another climax ripples through you, this one hitting you much harder. The tension finally snapped, a growl ripped through his throat, no longer being able to hold back, as ropes of his cum shot inside your pussy, hips faltering slightly.

Your eyes flutter shut from exhaustion, trying your best to catch your breath and calm your erratic heart. Gentle hands help drop your legs so they could wrap around Kento’s waist instead of being folded in the air. Kento noticed the drowsy haze you were in. He took it upon himself to find a towel in the bathroom to clean up the mess between your thighs. Exerting his strength, the stoic man helps you to move into the sheets, the cold air no longer able to nip at your naked body.

“We need to buy plan b,” you shifted yourself close to Kento.

A kiss is pressed to the crown of your head. “We can worry about that in the morning.”

[bloody-bee-tea]

Parents

Jiang Cheng is still panting heavily when he goes to check if they really did kill the yao, but when he turns slightly to make a joke at Nie Mingjue, his husband is nowhere to be seen.

“Mingjue?” Jiang Cheng yells out and he doesn’t want to admit it, but fear grips his heart.

The last moments of the fight were pretty hectic and rough; what if something happened to Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng didn’t notice it?

“Mingjue?” Jiang Cheng yells again, louder this time, when no answer comes and he goes back to where he thinks he saw Nie Mingjue last.

“Shush, Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue scolds him out of the blue and Jiang Cheng follows his voice into one of the many destroyed houses around the place.

The did not lose the whole village to the yao; these are long abandoned houses they simply found the yao at and so Jiang Cheng frowns.

“What’s going on?” he asks, carefully stepping into one of the destroyed houses but he comes to an abrupt stop when he sees what Nie Mingjue is holding.

“Is that a baby?” Jiang Cheng breathes out and is at Nie Mingjue’s side a moment later.

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue says, even though it’s pretty obvious that the squirming and clearly upset bundle in his arms is a human baby.

“What happened?” Jiang Cheng demands to know and steps closer to check the baby over.

“I don’t know. She made a sound and when I came in here, I found her all naked on the ground, not even crying. I hope she’s okay.”

Now that Nie Mingjue said it Jiang Cheng realizes that he cut his own robes to dress her, and the act just makes him love Nie Mingjue more.

“Let me see her,” Jiang Cheng says, holding his hands out expectantly and when Nie Mingjue drops her into his arms he checks her over more thoroughly.

There are no visible wounds on her and even though she seems a little bit too cold, she’s quickly warming up, now that she can leech off Jiang Cheng’s and Nie Mingjue’s body heat.

“She seems fine to me,” Jiang Cheng decides. “Maybe a little bit hungry, but she doesn’t seem injured.”

“Thank the gods,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and gently strakes his finger over her cheek. “I was worried because she wouldn’t cry. I still remember how Jin Ling was, it seemed strange for her not to make a sound.”

Jiang Cheng decides not to take offense on Jin Ling’s behalf, because he was one loud baby and instead says “Babies are much more sensitive than we give them credit for. If her parents were hiding from the yao, it’s likely she somehow picked up on the fact that she needs to be quiet.”

“She’s barely older than six month,” Nie Mingjue says with a frown and Jiang Cheng presses her protectively to his chest.

“And maybe she’s just especially bright,” he snaps back and then walks out of the house. “Come on, we still have to let the healers check her over, maybe we missed something,” he calls over his shoulder when Nie Mingjue doesn’t follow him immediately.

“Alright, alright. But Wanyin—no getting attached. We’re not keeping her,” he says and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“Of course we’re not keeping her. I don’t want any more kids, Jin Ling totally was enough for me,” he cheekily says, though immediately the doubt cuts deep again.

Jin Ling is only six, but the kid already has an attitude and he has his nose high up in the sky and Jiang Cheng is afraid that he fucked him over for good. He is not fit to raise any kid, least of all his sister’s child, and absolutely not the sweet baby in his arms.

“As long as you remember,” Nie Mingjue says and then keeps a hand under the babies bum the whole time they walk.

As if Jiang Cheng would ever let anything this precious drop.

~*~*~

“How is our baobei doing?” Nie Mingjue asks with a huge smile as he walks into the infirmary.

They are keeping her there for a lack of better accommodations, though Jiang Cheng is getting out all of Jin Ling’s old stuff again. Soon enough she’ll be able to sleep with them in their bedroom.

“She is perfectly alright,” Jiang Cheng gives back and looks up from where he’s sitting on the floor, tickling her tummy and watching her squirming around and squealing with laughter.

“And how is my most amazing husband doing?” Nie Mingjue asks as he drops a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head and then blows raspberries onto the babies tummy.

“I am doing very well, too, thank you for asking,” Jiang Cheng seriously gives back and then erupts into laughter when Nie Mingjue gives him a disgruntled look at that.

It makes the baby clap her hands together and kick her tiny, tiny feet in the air and Jiang Cheng simply melts at the sight.

“And news of her parents?” he asks, mostly to distract himself from the urge of squeezing her to death and Nie Mingjue shakes his head as he sits down next to Jiang Cheng and picks her up.

“No. There were reports of a family running from the yao, but no one knew them and no one seems to know where the parents ran off to. I left a message in the house we found her in, in case they come back, but I don’t think it’s looking promising. It’s been a week already.”

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng thoughtfully says and offers up one of his fingers for her to hold on to. “What a shame.”

“Yeah,” Nie Mingjue agrees and then they fall silent.

Well, at least until their little baobei starts to scream bloody murder because she’s hungry.

~*~*~

They are laying in bed, Jiang Cheng tracing senseless shapes into Nie Mingjue’s chest when he speaks up.

“We’re not keeping her, right?” Jiang Cheng asks and Nie Mingjue tenses.

“Wanyin, I thought we were agreeing on this,” he cautiously says and Jiang Cheng props himself up to look at him.

“We are. I am not fit to be a father; I was barely able to be an uncle to Jin Ling and raising him—I did so much wrong. I’m too much of my mother and not enough of my father and I’m just—”

“Well, from what you told me about your parents and from what I have seen with Jin Ling you are exactly the right mix of them. Just from the top of my head I can come up with at least seven instances where you held or carried Jin Ling, so I’d say you are perfectly good.”

“I messed up so much with him,” Jiang Cheng mutters. “The real damage will only show when he’s older, just you wait.”

“Well, pardon me, but your parents were shit and you turned out alright if I dare say so,” Nie Mingjue tells him and pulls him into a kiss. “And I am not actually keen on being a dad, either. I was pouring so much into raising Huaisang when our father died and I don’t know if I can raise anyone without the explicit expectation of them having to be a Sect Heir.”

Nie Mingjue sighs and Jiang Cheng snuggles closer to him.

“Look at how I messed up with him. I put so much pressure onto him all the time because I feared I would die young and now he avoids any kind of responsibility as if his life depends on it. I already fucked up once. I’m not going to do it again.”

“You didn’t fuck up,” Jiang Cheng protests. “If anything you spoilt him too much. You were too lenient. It’s not like he ever cowers when you yell at him, right? He’s clearly not afraid of you or the consequences you keep threatening him with, because he damn well knows you’d never follow through.”

“Is that right?” Nie Mingjue asks, raising one eyebrow at Jiang Cheng. “Just like Jin Ling laughs at you whenever you threaten to break his legs?”

“That’s different,” Jiang Cheng huffs.

“I don’t think it is,” Nie Mingjue argues and then rolls them over onto the side so they can sleep.

“No more kids,” he mutters, burying his face in Jiang Cheng’s hair and Jiang Cheng agrees.

No more kids for them.

~*~*~

It’s been two months by now since they found little Baobei in the abandoned house and they have formed a routine around her.

The healers complained after two weeks of her being in the infirmary that she can’t stay there anymore so Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue took her to their own bedroom, letting her sleep right next to their bed, so they could keep an eye on her.

“Good morning, little baobei,” Jiang Cheng says when she grumbles herself awake and Nie Mingjue laughs at the sight.

“She’s just like you,” he jokes and Jiang Cheng can’t even manage a proper frown over her head.

“Shut up, she is not,” he denies and Nie Mingjue has not even the decency to argue with him about this.

“Let’s go find Jiang Zedong and hear how the search for parents for her is going,” Jiang Cheng mutters, a little bit miffed that Nie Mingjue wouldn’t indulge him in a little argument, but when Nie Mingjue comes over to pepper first Baobei with kisses and then Jiang Cheng, he decides it’s forgotten.

When they ask Jiang Zedong about the issue he stares at them like they lost their minds.

“What do you mean, possible parents for her?”

“What do you mean, what do we mean?” Jiang Cheng bites back, though he’s aware that the look is a little bit ruined with Baobei in his arms. “You’re supposed to look for possible parents for her, what’s going on?”

“You mean for other people to take her in?”

“Other people? Who else would take her in?” Nie Mingjue asks as well, and when Baobei starts to sniffle, he takes her right out of Jiang Cheng’s arms.

It turns out that Baobei is a very sensitive baby, and she picks up on moods incredibly well. They haven’t found much that can sooth her, but resting against Nie Mingjue’s chest always seems to do the trick.

Jiang Cheng can relate. It’s a very good chest to lean on.

“You?” Jiang Zedong shoots back and Jiang Cheng quickly reaches out when Nie Mingjue’s arms go slack.

He manages to secure Baobei until Nie Mingjue remembers himself and hugs her close again.

“We’re not looking to adopt,” Nie Mingjue tells him, and Jiang Zedong frowns in confusion.

“But didn’t you already? I mean, she sleeps with you and you modelled your whole day around her. You come running when she cries or makes any kind of sound and no offense, but you don’t even allow the healers to hold her for her check-ups. I am actually afraid of what you’ll do if I tell you that we did find someone to adopt. Honestly, I just thought you would keep her.”

Jiang Cheng blinks at Nie Mingjue who in turn blinks at him.

“We didn’t want to adopt,” Jiang Cheng eventually says and Nie Mingjue nods.

“Well, to me—and everyone else—it looks like you already did. Now if you excuse me, I have real problems to solve here,” he then tells them and simply marches off.

Jiang Cheng wonders what demon was possessing him when he appointed Jiang Zedong his second in command, but when Baobei gurgles he forgets that thought.

“We weren’t looking to adopt,” Nie Mingjue says and bounces Baobei in a soothing manner.

“No, we weren’t.”

“Maybe—maybe she adopted us?” Nie Mingjue tries and Jiang Cheng sighs, before he leans into Nie Mingjue’s side.

“My soul, maybe it’s time we face the truth,” he gravely says, and surprisingly enough he’s not terrified out of his mind. “We’re done for. We are her parents.”

There’s a moment of silence from Nie Mingjue before he shrugs.

“Could be worse, I guess,” he says and lifts Baobei up high in the air.

Jiang Cheng fights the urge to snag her out of his hands, because what if he lets her fall, but by then Nie Mingjue already has her safely against his chest again.

“Just promise me, Wanyin: if I put too much pressure on her, if I demand too much of her, you’ll have to smack me over the head.”

“I’ll smack you over the head whenever I please,” Jiang Cheng cheerfully tells him but then he nods. “Of course I promise. And—the same goes for you: if I snap at her like my mother did or if I don’t give her the affection she deserves, you’ll have to smack some sense into me.”

“I promise, my heart, but you already did a good job with Jin Ling.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t comment on that, because the fear that he fucked his nephew up sits deep, but when Baobei babbles happily at him, he pushes those thoughts away.

“Oh shit,” Jiang Cheng suddenly says, and looks with big eyes at Nie Mingjue. “We have to come up with a real name for her!”

“Oh fuck,” Nie Mingjue wholeheartedly agrees and then they dissolve into laughter because if that is their biggest worry right now, then maybe they’ll be alright.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Though I Can't Recall Your Face, I Still Got Love For You

Summary: Spencer’s always been ambivalent about his birthday, but self proclaimed lover of birthday’s Y/N attempts to change that.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Warnings: Spencer’s kind of a sad bitch. Question: Why do I like writing sad Spencer?

Word Count: 2.5 K- ish

Author’s Note: prompts come from here this one is 4,8,25 from @shemarmooresfedora !! please go check out her blog on here and on Ao3!! Also, I’m stilling taking requests for numbers. I’ll update for which ones have been taken 💕

Though I Can’t Recall Your Face, I Still Got Love for You

Birthdays were always hard when all you had to do is go home to an empty house. No sounds of friends crowding the dining room table, no laughter from family members, no well wishes or pats on the back. All there is, is the stillness of silence and the emptiness of solitude. Spencer thought that he was used to it. He remembers the way the sun felt on his face the morning he woke up on his 18th birthday. His first thought wasn’t it’s my day, but it’s the day I put my mom away. The day Spencer became a man, was the first day he really wished he was a little boy again.

Ever since then, birthdays have always been a sore spot for Spencer. They just bring up sour tasting memories of his mother refusing to get out of bed or his father staying late at work to avoid coming home to a wife who doesn’t remember her own husband or a son who he can’t seem to understand. Birthdays, for Spencer, have always been just another day. Or at least, that’s what Spencer tells himself on the long ride up the elevator to the 6th floor of the BAU.

The bullpen is dark when Spencer walks out from the elevator. Paperwork and manila folders clutter the desks. Even Spencer’s workspace seems to reflect himself: frozen in time. He sits at his desk, a photograph of him and his mother placed at the right corner smiles up at him. A newer photograph, one of him and Y/N, sits right next to the one with his mom. There’s one with Derek and Penelope, one with him and Gideon at his Academy graduation, and one with him and JJ, who’s holding Henry. One of him and Luke at a bar, Penelope in the background drunk and singing.

Spencer loves photographs, but recently he’s been obsessed with them. Ever since his mother’s diagnosis, the fear that would ever forget the faces that find a home in his heart paralyzes him. These pictures may very well one day tell a much more older, much more grayer Spencer the story of his life. Today, in his mind, is another day closer to his fate.

His birthday means he’s another day closer to forgetting the way Y/N eyes sparkle when she drinks too much rose, or Henry’s laugh at Spencer’s magic tricks, or feeling when Derek calls him his brother. No one, not even Y/N, knows that Spencer has a drawer filled up of photographs he’s collected over the years. He can’t deal with forgetting the principles of electromagnetism, but forgetting his family? Spencer wouldn’t have anything left, but the smiling faces of familiar strangers, whose names are just out of reach.

Spencer rubs his eyes with the ball of his palm. He knows he’s not going to get work done. Spencer spins in his swivel chair and he’s nearly startled out of his quiet thoughts when his phone rings.

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” he says, swallowing his emotions as he shuts the drawer on the shiny faces.

“You really need to start checking your caller ID, Spence,” Y/N says, with a chuckle. Spencer can practically feel the way she’s smiling. For some reason, her teasing never made him feel bad.

“Well, what do I owe this pleasure?” Spencer asks. He drums his fingers on his desk, waiting for Y/N to respond.

“It seems like we have a missing person case,” Y/N starts, “6’2 male, brown hair, some say his eyes are green and some say they’re brown, so we’ll go with hazel, and he’s like ridiculously smart, but also kind of dumb for avoiding his girlfriend on his birthday,”

Spencer sighs as he launches himself into a long spin in his chair. He’s not surprised that Y/N is calling him; she’s always loved birthdays. She’s always been someone to someone. It’s taken some time to adjust to the fact that Spencer is Y/N’s someone.

“Are you coming to rescue me?” Spencer asks sheepishly. He leans back in his chair, watching the elevator. Y/N might think she’s slick, but Spencer’s sure he knows her better than he knows geographical profiling.

“Maybe, can you tell me how fast elevators can travel up to the 6th floor?”

Spencer opens his mouth, ready to fire statistics on top of statistics, but is silenced by Y/N’s arrival. Spencer tries to remain neutral, remain ambivalent about this day being something more than any other day, but Y/N makes it difficult.

As soon as her feet leave the elevator she launches herself at Spencer, not caring that he’s less than capable of catching anything. In a tangle of arms and legs, Y/N manages to sit herself on Spencer’s lap. His hand snakes around her waist; he holds her so tight that it’s almost like he’s afraid she’s going to get blown out like birthday candles on a cake.

“I can’t believe you thought you could sneak out and come to work, on your birthday of all days,” Y/N says quietly, she threads her fingers through Spencer’s hair. She likes how long it’s gotten and his curl pattern is almost fully restored to their original health from before he went to prison.

“How’d you find me?” Spencer asks, thinking that birthdays might not be so bad if they all involve Y/N sitting in his lap and trying to braid his hair.

“Do you seriously have to ask that? Only the Oracle of Quantico,” Y/N teases and Spencer rolls his eyes, thinking he should have known that Garcia would be the one to track his location for Y/N.

“It’s vaguely illegal for a federal agent to tap into those databases, especially for a civilian,” Spencer counters. Y/N, smiling at him, dips her head down to press light kisses on his eyebrows and down the bridge of his nose.

“So’s an ex-Army Ranger giving me his key card to sneak into the BAU,”

“Luke’s in on this too,” Spencer tries to sound upset, but his heart swells at the thought of Penelope, Luke, and Y/N all instigating for his birthday.

“Of course he is, I had to bring out the big guns for my Spencer’s birthday,” Y/N quips. Her fingers climb up Spencer’s sides, tickling him. She likes the kind of laugh that he lets out when she tickles him. It’s a laugh that’s unguarded and full of life. It’s a laugh that doesn’t hold anything back. It’s a laugh that relieves the pressure that festers deep inside him.

Y/N’s hands may make him laugh, but nothing makes him beam more than hearing Y/N call him “my Spencer”. She says it so simply, like my doesn’t even exist, like it’s an involuntary muscle being flexed. For Y/N, loving Spencer came as easy and effortless as breathing.

“You do love birthdays,” Spencer says, looking up at Y/N. He spins them around in his swivel chair, giggling as she lets out a gleeful squeal. Spencer grows dizzy, but he thinks he’s dizzier from Y/N’s love than from spinning in his chair.

“I love your birthday more than any other day, even my birthday,” Y/N says, getting up from Spencer’s lap to pick up the canvas grocery bags she brought with her.

“I was never one for birthdays,” Spencer says quietly. Y/N, more than anyone, knows Spencer’s challenging past. She knows his fears and she knows his dreams. She haunts his every waking moment; somehow a mercurial threat and a constant promise at the same time.

“I know, but I’m sure I’ll make you grow to love them,” Y/N says, “I wasn’t sure which flavor you wanted so I got all of them. Wawa has a surprisingly good selection of Turkey Hill,”

She takes out three gallon sized cartons of ice cream. One coffee with chocolate chips, one butter pecan, and one Moose Tracks. She hands Spencer a spoon and a napkin before sitting down on the floor and opening a carton of the ice cream.

“I do love dairy,” Spencer says, eyeing the ice cream, but considering the consequences of eating the creamy desert. Spencer shoves the statistics about the effects of dairy on a 40 year old with lactose intolerance down and takes his spot next to Y/N on the floor.

He goes to open his carton of ice cream, coffee with chocolate chips, but before he can dig his spoon into the tub, Y/N grabs his wrist.

“No! Spence, wait. Here, take these. And you need to light it,” she says, plopping a couple lactose pills in his hand and digging out a pack of candles and a lighter from her bag.

“Y/N are you out of your mind! We can’t light something in the BAU, god, Emily will kill me,” Spencer says nervously.

“Spence, do you really think Emily Prentiss is going to give me shit for lighting a candle for your birthday in the middle of the office. That woman lives on the edge,” Y/N waves him off and lights a single candle.

Spencer, staring at the lit candle, listens as Y/N sings “Happy Birthday” to him. Sitting criss cross on the floor of the BAU, he watches as the candle light illuminates Y/N’s face. She looks almost ghostly in the dark with the flickering light making her eyes glow. Y/N wishes the song and grasps his hand and squeezes hard.

“Make a wish, baby,” Y/N tells him. She really believes in wishes. Spencer wishes he could believe in wishes. He desperately wants to believe that Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos are somehow tying knots in the places where his string has been cut.

But more than anything, Spencer can’t bear to forget the face of the women across from. He can’t bear to one day not recognize the way her hand feels in his. He can’t accept the possibility of Y/N being anything less than the person he knows best in this world. Spencer doesn’t particularly care for the metaphor of the light going out. But his fears are put at bay when Y/N leans over and pecks his cheek. He can feel her grinning against his skin and like some virus contracted through touch, it’s contagious. Y/N breaks apart from Spencer and motions for him to eat some ice cream. They sit, shoulder to shoulder, against the front of Spencer’s desk eating their ice cream.

“Thank you, for making my birthday special. It’s been a hard year,” Spencer says, letting the tension in the air speak for itself, “my mom didn’t remember me the other day. I hate seeing her like that,”

“I know, sweetheart. You’ve been through so much. That’s why you need to tell me these things,” She says, setting down her ice cream. Y/N places her hands on Spencer’s shoulders, guiding him to place his back against her chest. His head rests in the crook of her neck. Spencer can feel her steady heart beat against his back. It’s a constant, patterned drum amidst the chaos of his mind.

“Can we take a picture, you know, just to remember this day,” Spencer asks, his voice laced with trepidation. He can feel Y/N nod, and move to grab her phone from her pocket.

Spencer sits up and scoots over to open the bottom drawer of his desk. He pulls out an old camera, one where you have to wait for the picture to appear on the print out. He likes the charm in older things, you really have to work for it. He likes the effort that you have to put into getting the picture made.

“Going old school, I see,” Y/N teases as she catches sight of Spencer’s old camera. He returns to his spot, snuggled against her back. Their legs stick out on the floor, his much longer than Y/N’s. Her arms snake around his torso, holding him tight. Spencer holds the camera out, facing them to capture their faces in some archaic selfie style.

The light flashes before Spencer’s eyes, and Y/N’s kiss on the top of his head burns a hole that instantly leaves him craving more. He’d let her draw any pattern she desires, as long as her kisses are the medium and he is her canvas.

“Can you tell me what you wished for?” Y/N asks, her voice low.

Spencer, looking off into the distance, makes a disgruntled noise. He can feel Y/N’s fingers crawl up his sides and her arms encasing his body. She’s shielding him from his demons, but little does she know that the most menacing foe is his mind.

“You’re really not supposed to, but considering you’re my wish I think you have the right to know,” Spencer offers, “I wished that I’ll never forget you. Never forget this life we made together,” He feels his chest constrict. Mentioning his fear makes it seem more palpable; more real.

“Spencer, have you felt that way for a long time?,”

Spencer takes a deep breath, letting the floodgates open.

“I’ve felt like this my whole life, Y/N. I’m terrified to forget you. To forget our children that I haven’t even met yet. Forget who I am. I’m terrified that I’m going to leave you behind in a murky past that I can never remember,” Spencer says. He chokes back the pain. He doesn’t want Y/N memories of him to be marred by fear and darkness.

“This is about your mom, right. Spencer, listen to me. I’ll love you even if that comes true. I don’t need you to recall my face to know you still got love for me. And you're not leaving me behind. I won’t allow that. I’m not leaving you behind, baby,” Y/N says, her voice the most soothing cure.

She’s a power mixture of biochemicals and neurotransmitters. She heals him at an epigenetic level and restores him piece by piece. Her medicine is love.

Or maybe her love is his medicine.

“I’ve never been this scared of losing something, because I never had someone to lose,” Spencer mumbles, he twists his head so his breath is warm against Y/N’s neck. Somehow in this twisted position, Spencer has never felt safer.

“You can’t lose something that can’t be lost, my Spencer. I’m not going anywhere,”

“I love you to the moon and to Saturn,” Spencer says kissing along Y/N’s collarbones.

Like the pictures in the drawer, Spencer tucks away the fears of the future. He swallows the threat of forgetting everything because the promise of love swallows him whole. He craves a future with Y/N with the possibility of forgetting who she is over the life he’d live if he left her behind.

She said it best, even if one day he can’t recall her face, he’ll still have love for her.

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

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[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

The Wrong Kind of Stardust (Legolas x Reader)

Synopsis: After taking Legolas, your partner, to visit your “Stardust” addict brother, things get a little chaotic.

A/N: I’ve been thinking about Legolas a lot lately, and one thought that’s recently crossed my mind is “what if Legolas got high on crack?” and my brain ran with the rest. Sometimes you just gotta write about an elf on cocaine.

Warnings: drug abuse, addiction, peer pressure, mentions of sex, a very crazy and over-the-top elf high on Stardust.

Dismounting your respective horses, both you and Legolas dropped to the pine needles below. You had finally arrived at your brother’s secluded cottage in the forest, away from the hustle and bustle of the cities.

“I can’t believe he actually managed to afford a place to live,” you scoffed, thinking of your brother.

He had suffered many years with addiction to “Stardust”—a white powder when once inhaled, made your body react faster and more impulsively than usual.

“Try to be optimistic,” Legolas soothed. He wrapped one arm around your shoulder and kissed your head. “Keep in mind how much you want your older brother at our wedding, and that’ll put things into perspective.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, supposing he was right. “This wouldn’t be the first time Franny lied about ‘being better’, though.”

“No,” Legolas agreed, walking you both forward towards the cottage, arm around your back. “But this is the first time he’s said so upon us getting married in a month.”

The grin he gave you was one brimming in lovesickness, as he studied your eyes.

You arched a brow up at him over his words, knowing exactly how elvish marriages were undertaken, and how you technically already were husband and wife.

Catching your expression, he cleared his throat sheepishly, and responded with, “Well…married formally, at least.”

You rolled your eyes away from him, but couldn’t fight the smile on your face. However, it soon ran away, as you both arrived at the closed front door.

You inhaled tightly, and spoke aloud. “Here we are, I suppose.”

Hearing the premature disappointment in your voice, Legolas looked down his side at you. Grabbing hold of both of your hands, he gazed into your eyes and reassured you.

“Hey,” he lulled, earning your full attention. “It’s all going to be fine, all right? You needn’t worry about your family embarrassing you in front of me, like you mentioned on the road. We’ve talked about this whole ‘prince and commoner’ thing at length. I wouldn’t have…married you if I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

Your heart melted and your knees turned to mush, as you smiled up at him—bursting with love.

He returned the look and brought one hand up to cup your cheek. Running a thumb along your cheekbone, he began tilting your head upwards.

Still feeling your stomach flutter after all these years, you eyed him in excitement, before steadily closing your lids.

Right before his lips could brush against yours, however, the door to your brother’s cottage slammed opened.

Jolting away from one another, you both looked at Francis in shock. He looked every bit like you, but taller.

A broad grin was on Francis’ face, as he eyed his sister up.

“Y/n!” he exclaimed, rushing forwards to tackle you into a hug. “I’m so glad you made it! Oh! I haven’t seen you in years! And to think that you’re now getting married! Speaking of which—”

He pulled back from squeezing you blue, to size up Legolas instead. He strutted forwards with a low, manly laugh, and gripped a suddenly rigid and wide-eyed Legolas tight on the shoulders.

“My future brother-in-law!” he exclaimed, quickly pulling the protesting elf into a bear hug. “An elf, AND a prince! I can’t believe how well my sister scored!”

Laughing nervously, Legolas awkwardly wrapped his arms around Francis, patting him on the back. The only person he’d ever truly been skin-to-skin intimate with was you. Everyone else got a closed fist to the chest, or a shoulder clasp.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Francis,” Legolas said, politely.

“Francis?” he exclaimed, pulling back and holding Legolas straight by the shoulders. “Who are you, my mother? Don’t be so formal, your highness! You can just call me ‘Franny’, like Y/n here does!”

He turned to you with a broad grin, and you returned it, though, in a lipped manner. Legolas offered a tight and confused grin back, unsure at the best of times on how to interact with humans. Francis was certainly the most bizarre one he’d met yet.

He almost regretted encouraging you to visit him, but the thought of your nearing wedding day ahead drove him forward, as well as one simple, repetitive thought.

Do it for Y/n.

Do it for Y/n.

Do it for Y/n.

“Well, don’t be strangers now!” Francis pressed on, ushering you both inside. “Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Tea? Moonshine?”

“Tea is fine, Franny,” you said in an almost scolding tone, knowing he shouldn’t drink at all.

As you stepped inside of the home, you inspected every nook and cranny with your eyes—expecting bags of Stardust to be lying around.

However, to your surprise, there were none.

“Tea coming right up!” Franny declared, whisking away to the kitchen. “Please! Make yourselves at home down at the table!”

Legolas thanked him with a smile, and sat you down in a gentlemanly manner, before taking his seat next to you.

Looking around the room, and pleasantly surprised with your brother, you voiced so aloud.

“Wow, Franny, this place actually looks amazing! I’m quite proud of you—it seems as though you’ve really cleaned up your act this time, as opposed to the last occasion.”

“I’m completely clean, sister!” his voice came from the kitchen. You could also hear the whistling of a kettle and the rattling of drawers.

You smiled up at Legolas with excitement in your eyes, as you truly believed your brother. He returned your smile, and offered a brighter one as you spoke.

“I think he’s really done it…should we invite him now?”

“Absolutely,” he encouraged. “Do you want to go get the invitation out of the saddle-bags?”

Nodding resolutely, you stood to your feet. You placed a peck against his lips, before leaving out the door again.

“Make friends with him,” you said, before leaving with a happy skip in your step.

He waved you goodbye, before Francis’ voice caught his attention.

“Y/n! Hey, do you think—oh, where’d she go?”

Legolas looked over his shoulder to find Francis’ head sticking out of the entranceway into the kitchen, as he looked left and right for his sister.

“She’s just stepped outside for a moment,” Legolas answered, politely.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Francis dropped his act, and his expression.

The change in demeanour chased the smile away from Legolas’ face, as he parted his lips in shock up at the man.

“I beg your pardon?” Legolas asked, already on the “what did you just say about my wife?” boat.

“She can be a real nagger sometimes,” Francis explained. He dropped to his knees and pulled a wooden plank out from the floorboards. Underneath, a brown bag of white powder lay.

He fetched it quickly, and came to sit on the couch next to Legolas, but a few feet away. Francis then began pouring a handful out, where he next went onto inhaling some.

“What are you doing?!” Legolas nearly squealed, jumping to his feet, as if a snake was just placed next to him.

“Elevating myself. What’s it look like, elf?” Francis sassed, quirking a brow up at Legolas.

“Are you insane?” the angry side of Legolas emerged. “Y/n just left to retrieve your wedding invitation, and you’re betraying her trust?”

“Relax, would you?” Francis complained, inhaling more of the dust from his hand. “What she doesn’t know won’t kill her.”

“Uh, I’m standing right here,” Legolas pointed out, gesturing to his body.

Looking his brother-in-law up and down, Francis replied, using a very monotonous voice. “Uh, yeah, I can see that. You’re a real stud of a stallion, so what?”

“No, that’s not what I—” Legolas went to defend himself. However, he bit his tongue and pressed both hands together in a praying motion. He brought said hands up to his face, and rested his forehead against them.

Closing his eyes, Legolas took a deep breath of his own.

“Wow, you look really stressed there, my friend,” Franny pointed out, holding the bag up next. “Would you like to try some?”

Jolted back into his senses, Legolas gaped down at the man for a minute in shock, before anger gave way again. “NO, FRANCIS! I WOULD NOT LIKE SOME OF YOUR DRUGS! Y/n will be devastated when she finds out you’re using again! And I encouraged her to give you another chance—I see why she was so against it now.”

The frown and glare of Legolas only deepened, as Franny rose to his feet, squaring up with the slightly taller elf.

“Hey, pal, you have no idea what I’m all about,” he growled, nodding his head in gesture of the elf. “And besides, who are you to judge? You’ve never even tried Stardust before!”

“Oh,” Legolas scoffed, rolling his eyes, “excuse me for having never done drugs before, what a horribly ignorant elf I am.”

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Francis urged, holding up a handful to Legolas’ nose. “C’mon, just a little sniff! You’ll feel a lot calmer soon, I promise!”

“No!” Legolas rejected, swatting his hands. “Get that stuff away from me, Francis!”

“C’mon!” Francis drew out, trying to put it underneath Legolas’ dodging nose. “Just a little bit of Stardust won’t hurt you!”

“No, but it’ll hurt Y/n!” he protested, trying to move away from the adamant man.

“Just a little!” he urged again, chasing Legolas, as the elf was backed into a corner.

“No!”

“Yes!”

“NO!”

“YES!”

“I SAID NO!”

“Okay, you know what?” Francis rolled his eyes, now fully having the elf cornered. “Here!”

With one big puff of air, the entire handful of Stardust blew into Legolas’ face, entering his system almost immediately.

Legolas rapidly blinked his eyes open and shut, as he tried to get rid of the dust. The white powder danced between the man and elf in an equal amount, getting both high very quickly.

As the dust fluttered down to the floor, looking as though a bag of flour had just exploded, Legolas stared at his brother-in-law in shock.

“You…” he attempted to say, before he felt the pumping of his heart increase.

“Oh, yes, my friend,” Francis grinned, nodding his head. “You’re in for a good time…”

~

Outside, you had finally found the wedding invitation in your saddle-bag, now heading back on over towards the cottage.

You barely had time to announce your presence again, for the first thing you saw upon re-entering was your brother and husband kneeled on the floor, speaking fast and brooming up…flour?

“I feel like everything’s gonna work out, you know? Because I’m like clockwork!” your brother said, all in one go, to Legolas, as they quickly broomed everything up. “Look how fast I’m cleaning this mess up! Clockwork! I’m moving super-fast! Look at me go!”

Legolas nodded vehemently, and raised one finger to speak over the top of your brother, as they both continued vigorously cleaning the floor.

“Y-You know what’s funny? Can I speak? You know what’s funny?” he began, quick as a whip. “I feel like I should be panicking right now, and I am a little bit, but in a very, very good way—like a good kind of panic, because I feel like I want to die right now, but I also feel very, very good—”

“Hey!” you called, staring at them in confusion. “What on earth are you guys doing?”

“Y/n!” Legolas gasped, shooting to his feet.

Jumping over the couch in a way that made your eyes go wide, Legolas was instantly stood before you.

“I feel amazing!” he revealed, grabbing a chunk of blonde hair either side of his head, and pulling outwards. “LOOK HOW LONG MY HAIR IS! It’s growing out of my head right now—can you believe that? Isn’t that sort of disgusting? Ew, I’ve just made myself feel uncomfortable in my own body—”

Legolas gasped brightly, and met your eyes again. This was where you saw how dilated they were.

“CAN I BORROW YOUR BODY INSTEAD?” he asked, suddenly grabbing your waist. “THAT’S A BRILLIANT IDEA! And I know how to go inside, too, so it’ll all feel much better soon—”

“Are you high on…Stardust?!” you exclaimed, removing his hands from your waist.

Legolas blinked down at you rapidly for a few seconds, before slowly answering.

“No…?”

“I can’t believe it,” you seethed. Pushing past Legolas, you glared down at your laughing brother. “You’re absolutely deplorable, Francis! Don’t even THINK about showing up to the wedding!”

You tore up his invitation, and threw it down onto the ground below. You next began shoving a reluctant Legolas out of the house.

Fortunately, once he felt the pine needles on his feet (he was barefoot, for some reason), he gasped loudly and took off running.

“LOOK HOW GREEN IT IS!” he exclaimed. “HAVE YOU EVER NOTICED HOW GREEN IT IS? THE COLOURS ARE BURSTING RIGHT NOW ALL AROUND ME. I feel as though it’s sort of designed in my honour, you know? As in, nature really understands—SQUIRREL—what my name means.”

You rubbed your temples with a grinding of your teeth, as you watched your husband sprint off to climb a tree, where he beckoned you to join.

Growling, you spoke lowly under your breath.

“This is going to be a long ride home…”

Hearing a strangled yelp, you noticed that Legolas had already fallen out of the tree. You sighed, and began walking over—already knowing your words to be true.