#and this is how this family handles that. apparently.

[sal-absinthii]

Really, it goes back even further than that, to his parents. He had two loving parents who raised him for the first year of his life (and being in hiding, they probably also spent way more time with him than many parents are even able). That's just a basic attachment thing, that first year can make a really big difference in terms of what a kid carries through life.

I don't really see Malfoy coming into this at all; he wasn't bullied by Malfoy, as OP says, they were rivals. Malfoy was a jerk but he never had any power over Harry, and other than their fight (which Harry was more than capable of returning), all he really ever did was say mean things. Harry certainly went through a lot of shit during his time at Hogwarts, especially after Voldemort's return, when the press and government turned on him -- this is very stressful (and would be even for an adult), and in a lot of ways is worse than normal bullying would be, but we don't actually see Harry being bullied. Snape and Umbridge are the only ones I would consider to bully him at all, and that's bad but it's also still a different kind of thing. Even at his lowest moments, when almost the entire wizarding world seems to have ganged up on him, he isn't alone and he knows it. He has the support of Ron and Hermione and usually the rest of Gryffindor, as well as Dumbledore during his life, and the Weasleys, except for a bit where Percy doesn't like him, and the whole Order of the Phoenix are always on his side and believe him.

The time when he's actually bullied and abused is when he's with the Dursleys, and it's extraordinary that he came out of basically perfectly well-adjusted. He has his normal teenage angst moments, although frankly with the amount and scale of trauma he goes through during the series and responsibility he has put on him, he is WAY more normal than by all accounts he ought to be. The only thing I can see as a direct line from his treatment by the Dursleys to his later life is that he always prefers to take action himself, not trusting or believing that the authority figures who are supposed to handle it will do so, but this comes across as more of a personality trait than something that he actually needs to overcome emotionally.

His life with the Dursleys is so cartoonishly bad it's kind of easy to lose sight of how it would feel to go through all of that. Not only does his family not want him, tell him he's useless, give him much less than their son, and turn a blind eye to his emotional and educational needs (not just at Hogwarts but also during primary school), they also half-starve him, imprison him, prevent him from contacting his friends, threaten his pet, use often-extreme physical violence against him as a common occurrence, allow other relatives to set animals on him, and so on. This is horrifying abuse. Any one of those things would seriously mess a kid up, and yet Harry never once seems to internalise it. He knows it's bad of them, he knows he doesn't deserve it, he does not exhibit an unusual degree of fear around them or around others (on the contrary, he often doesn't seem to have enough fear for the situation!), he does not think of himself in any way that reflects what the Dursleys have said about and to him, and despite apparently never having had any friends until he meets Ron and being himself a celebrity, is able to have normal social interactions with peers. His first instinct when he gets a lot of money and unrestricted access to sweets -- as a starved 11yo -- is not to hoard it to himself, as would probably be expected and couldn't really be held against a kid who has never been full or had treats like that in his life, but to empathise with Ron's poverty (with the emotional intelligence to understand it and not to embarrass Ron) and to immediately and freely share what he has. I like to rag on Harry because of how utterly exasperating he must be to characters like Snape who are supposed to be protecting him through all of this, but it really is incredible.

It would not really be a mark against him if he did not intuitively have this social facility and streak of generosity in the same way that it is a mark against someone like Malfoy, who never knew the hardships Harry did as a child. The fact that Snape, who also grew up in poverty and neglect, turned out to be an awkward weirdo in school who was attracted to having strength and power does not actually imply any pathological weakness of character on Snape's part, because it makes sense that a kid in that situation would turn out that way. Is it good or healthy? No, but it is entirely reasonable. The fact that Harry turned out so well-adjusted is a credit to Harry, but it is not really a point against other abused children who did not. Snape did not have anywhere to learn this from. Harry had very little to learn this from, but at the very least, he had a stable and loving home for the first year of his life, which Snape did not, nor did Tom Riddle. Any argument that compares Snape's behaviour to Harry's in this manner is making the mistake right from the beginning of thinking that Harry is the usual way an abused and traumatised child/teenager ought to turn out...but this just isn't the case. While we do see more of it directly with him than with other characters, because it's told from his point of view and we are given insight into Harry's mental state that we don't get for other characters, on the whole, Harry's angst, misinterpretations, and emotional volatility don't seem any more severe than Ron's, Hermione's, or Neville's (he actually seems a bit better off than Neville tbh, it's fun to roll our eyes at how arrogant Harry comes across to certain biased outsiders, but he's not actually arrogant, just prone to trying to do everything himself, and for a kid who's spent his whole life hearing what a worthless ungrateful freak he is, the fact that he becomes neither an insecure wobbling blob nor an overcompensating narcissist is, again, pretty incredible). The people making that argument intend it to be a slight against Snape, but they're really just doing a disservice to Harry's resilience and the power of his early attachment, as well as showing that they've got a very unrealistic expectation that a kid who has not experienced love or stability or good role models, who has seen conflict resolved through anger and violence, and who has mostly had to fend for himself without a support system will somehow intuitively develop these emotional skills and healthy traits completely out of nowhere and in a setting where to do so would be a liability.

The fact that Snape does end up on the good side after all is because he did have one positive experience of friendship in his life. That is not to say, as some shallowly and imo unfairly interpret it, that Lily herself 'made' him good or that it was anything at all about Lily's alleged innate goodness, but just the fact that he did have one person through whom he was able to see what it was like to have a friend, to care about someone and to be cared about, however clumsy and ill-fated that young adolescent relationship turned out to be, was enough to show him that there was any other option possible. He did have a choice; that's the whole point of him as a character. And he made it. But the only reason he had the choice in the first place was because he had a friend and that friendship showed this to him. I would say that of the three, it's Tom who didn't have the same choice. Of course his actions were voluntary and he has responsibility for them, but he never seems to have known love, nor wanted it, because it's hard to want something you have never experienced or even seen around you. He learned how to act around people in order to get them to do what he wanted, but it was all calculated and none of it was genuine, unlike Harry, who gave so freely right from the beginning for no reason other than he wanted friends and had an understanding that this is what friends do, because he has empathy for Ron's poverty and embarrassment in a way Tom was incapable of and Snape was never in a position to give.

The point of comparing these three poor, abused half-bloods caught up in fate is not really that some people are born good and some are born bad and that's just that, the point is the difference the experience of love can make to the outcome of similar horrible experiences. We should have empathy for Snape, like Harry is able even when he hates his guts more than anyone else in the world, not use Harry to blame Snape, when the major difference between them -- their support system -- is the most relevant factor. It's like saying "well there's no excuse for this disabled person to not be able to run a mile when this other disabled person can" while comparing someone who's paraplegic to someone who's deaf. Yeah, they're both disabled, but they differ hugely in the extent to which that impairs the relevant skill of running. Or, to use an in-universe example, accusing Snape of unilaterally being an 'oppressor' and Lily always a 'victim' because he has higher blood status than she does and seeing their dynamic only through that one myopic Tumblrified lens while ignoring the fact that she was also pretty and popular and successful and middle-class and came from a home that was, at bare minimum, stable and non-violent.

"Harry also had a shitty childhood and was bullied, but he didn’t turn out like Snape."

True, because:

Harry found refuge at Hogwarts, where he felt welcomed, supported, and protected from the very beginning. Severus did not.

Harry had adult figures who protected him, cared about him (Hagrid, the Weasleys, Dumbledore, Lupin, Sirius...), and showed him affection over the years. Severus did not.

Harry had two friends who would have torn apart anyone who dared to strip him in front of the entire school. Severus did not.

Harry and Malfoy had a rivalry because they were on equal footing. Severus was bullied by a group of guys who attacked him together and were far above him socially and economically.

Harry was rich—disgustingly rich, to be exact. Severus was disgustingly poor.

Harry felt loved from the moment Hagrid came for him just after his 11th birthday. Severus never felt loved in his entire damn life.

Harry was favored by Dumbledore and other school staff on multiple occasions. Dumbledore forced Severus to stay silent about an attempted murder against him.

Harry had choices. Severus had nothing.

[shitpostingkats]

How are you guys the biggest threat to one of the largest corporations in the world.

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Did not have 'Demi Lovato helping with ending family channels' on my 2024 bingo, but holy shit.

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

Just woke up from the most bizarre dream where my twin and I got kidnapped, and then escaped because the guys who did it just let us call 911 in front of them?? And then we got rescued by just an assembly of our family from across the mulitviverse that apparently existed (including like. demon fighting superhero grandma)

[aspecbuddie]

quick reminder that you might not see the progress you're actually making 🫂💚

[occasionalklance]

.

[soullesscoyote]

Edit: its not actually as clickbait as the thumbnail suggests. The mom had a miscarriage before having her kids and one of the writers/creators(?) was writing from their own experiences and hoped to destigmatize it since its often treated as the pregnant persons fault for not being able to carry kids to term.

This was basically about dealing with that kind of grief but explained at a kids level.

What the hell happens in this show

[mostly-imagines]

Motion Sickness

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason makes you cry after a fight

warnings: angst with comfort

“Jason—”

He waves you off immediately, “No, I’m not your problem, okay?”

Your arms drop, “You’re not a problem at all, that’s not what I’m saying—”

“Then what are you saying?” he challenges. 

You almost bite your tongue but then decide against it, “I’m saying you’re being an asshole right now just because I tried to help.”

He’s angry and you’re someplace in between desperate and tired, but you push on, hoping you’ll be able to solve this without an extended argument. To little avail though, apparently. 

A tense exhale from him, “I don’t need your help, I don’t know how I can make it any clearer.”

“It’s not about needing it—”

“No, it’s about wanting it. I don’t want your fucking help,” he snaps. “I’m grown, I can handle my problems myself.”

You drop your hands to your sides, “Then what am I doing here, Jason?”

“I don’t know!” You can literally see the regret sweep over his face but he lets the moment consume him and the words linger anyways. 

You know he doesn’t always think before he talks, especially when he’s mad. You’ve seen it plenty when he’s fighting with his family. This is the first time it’s shown up with you though, and while you know it’s not coming from a place of genuinity—it still really fucking stung. 

Far from being in your control, tears slip out, more at his tone than his words, and you remove your gaze in favor of the linoleum tiles. He says nothing as you start to cry, which only makes the heat of the moment worsen. 

“Okay,” You take a deep breath, pursing your lips. “You need to go away.”

There’s a long, hard moment of silence, but ultimately he doesn’t fight you on it, only exhales harshly and slams the door on his way out.

The resulting reverberation of the apartment has your shoulders shaking, tears falling onto your shirt.  

You and Jason don’t fight often but when you do it’s usually about insecurities and fears coming forward. He’d been having a bad night to start with and all you wanted to do was make him feel better but he wasn’t willing to talk to you or let you do anything for him. He gets selfishly selfless like that, but you know why.

You know him, in and out. You could’ve anticipated this—you should’ve. You should’ve approached the topic more sensitively. And it’s not his fault, his life has taught him that it’s safer to believe that other people don’t have his best interest. You know that. 

Yeah, you know him in and out, but he knows you in and out, too. He knows you’ve shown him nothing but kindness and generosity since the day you met and you’ve reinforced a thousand times how safe you are for him. But if he still can’t trust you to care about him, then what are you doing here?

You let yourself fall back onto the arm of the couch, huffing in defeat. 

It’s nearing two in the morning when Dick awakens, the bandages across his abdomen digging into his skin uncomfortably. He sits up, bedsheet pooling around his waist. The ache of the bruising pushes him towards his old bedroom door before he’s even fully coherent, narrowly missing shouldering the door frame as he passes through.

He’s still half asleep as he thumps down the staircase, cold hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatshirt. He’s so out of it in his blind search for painkillers, that he nearly misses the large shadowed figure huddled up on the couch.

Dick stills, blinking warily.

“What’re you doing here?”

His younger brother says nothing, only continues to stew in the shadows, staring at the rug.

As his eyes adjust, Dick takes in his appearance: messy hair, tired eyes, only clad in a t-shirt and sweatpants.

He rubs his eyes, approaching with measured steps, “What happened?”

Jason remains silent for a long minute before grunting out, “Got in a fight.”

Dick nods slowly, shuffling forward a little more to sit on the far end of the couch. 

“What’d you do?”

Jason doesn’t have it in him to comment on how his brother immediately knew he was the issue. It just makes the entire thing hurt even worse. Instead, he tells the truth. 

“Be myself.”

Dick says nothing.

When the silence persists, Jason elaborates, even though it’s the last thing he wants to admit to.

“I made her cry,” he says, voice below even a whisper. He hates it and he hates himself for leaving you when he knew he’d hurt you.

Dick nods, not saying anything. He’s definitely been there before, though he’s not nearly as volatile as Jason can be, so he can imagine how this likely played out. In any case, Jason has never responded well to being pushed to talk about his feelings so Dick lets him get there in his own time.

He’s half expecting to end up with no results at all, but Jason pipes up after a minute, voice broken.

“I don’t know what she wants me to do,” he rasps.

Dick takes a deep breath, adjusting his posture. “When girls are mad you give them space but when they’re sad you definitely don’t. Is she sad or mad?”

Jason exhales desperately.

“Both, I think.”

Dick nods, understanding.

“Then go home.”

Jason shakes his head, defeated. “She told me to leave. She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“What did you say?”

He huffs, not wanting to bring the memory back up. “I basically told her to fuck off.”

“Yeah,” Dick drawls. “I wouldn’t let that simmer.”

Jason’s head snaps over to him. “She’ll break up with me?”

“No, I don’t—” Dick pauses, thinking over his words. “It’ll be fine. Just go home.”

Despite taking the long route on the way to the manor, Jason sped back home on his bike, now unwilling to leave you alone for another second longer than he had to. 

He creeps through the front door of your apartment, proud and only a little hurt that you’d remembered to lock it. 

The apartment’s mostly quiet, nothing but a lamp lighting up the front half. He can hear the shower running from where he stands, the waterfall noise awfully muffled from behind the closed bathroom door.

He bolts the door behind him, pushing forward towards the hallway. He approaches the bathroom door, noticing how there’s no light flooding out from underneath.

“Baby?” Jason calls it out quietly, like he’s scared to commit to alerting you of his presence.

He hears no response, but he knows you heard him. He knows you heard him in the same way that he knows you’re sitting on the shower floor, curled in on yourself under the sensory relief that the pouring water brings. He doesn’t know how, he just does.

So he leans against the door, listening closely, and calls out again, “Can I come in?”

There’s a solid ten seconds of silence before you respond, just barely audible over the cascade of water.

“Not right now.”

Your volume has him wincing, saddened and embarrassed that he’s the one that made you feel like this.

He reluctantly walks back to the bedroom with heavy shoulders, thudding his weight down on the mattress. He sits half folded over himself for the next ten minutes, thinking only of you, sitting alone in the shower with your thoughts.

He perks up considerably when he hears the water shut off, and after several long minutes, you emerge from the bathroom, towel wrapped around your middle.

He stands up when you enter the bedroom, hands stiff and awkward at his sides. You barely look at him, having trouble willing yourself to do more than glance. 

Your eyes fall downward, your lips pursing. You instinctually move to clutching the towel tighter around you, more than anything because you don’t know what to do with your hands. 

It makes his heart break to see you so out of comfort around him—because of him—so he gives you the benefit of privacy, turning around so you can get dressed. It kills him to do it, makes him feel like he’s just some stranger in your life rather than him. But he supposes that he deserves to feel like that right now. 

Whether or not you wanted him to turn around goes unsaid, he can only hear the quiet shuffling of you putting clothes on.

He waits until the movement stops, after he hears the squeak of the bed springs and the faint sound of the sheets being pulled up.

He turns around again with a silent sigh, taking in the sight of you laying in bed, back turned to him.  

He approaches slowly, stopping just before his knees hit the mattress. He notices quickly that the t-shirt you’d chosen was one of your own. He frowns.  

“Sweetheart. Can I touch you?” His voice is soft and low, like he’s trying to coax you back out to him.

It takes a long few moments, but you nod.

He sits down on the bed, still hesitant to go through with it.

“Will you turn over?”

An even longer pause and you’re flipping over to face him. You don’t make eye contact, only look blankly past him. Your blinks are heavy, and even in the dark, he can see that your eyes are still bloodshot. 

He brushes your hair back, his fingers feather-light against you, like he’s scared to touch you too harshly. Like he’s touching porcelain.

He lets you hold the silence for a while, reasoning with himself that you’ll talk when you’re ready.

You let it go on longer than he’d hoped, past the point of him knowing what to do with it. He’d hoped you’d yell at him. He can take that, he knows he can. He can see plainly that you’re thinking deeply and wants more than anything for you to say it, scream it if you have to. 

He knows he deserves it and he frankly would take anything over the silence. But then again, he doesn’t deserve the reprieve, does he? No, but he’s not strong enough to deny himself the chance to hear your voice.

“Say it,” he urges. “Please.”

Your fingers tap against the bed sheets for a moment before you sit up, almost defeated. 

You face him, taking a breath and relenting. “I don’t like that you said that to me.”

He nods, brow deep. “Me neither.”

Your shoulders sag at that, and you feel stuck in the moment. You feel guilty too but you don’t know if you should. He didn’t mean it, you know that, and they weren’t his words, really. But the snap of his voice when he’d said it and the look on his face—it made you feel terrible. It still does.

You look awkwardly to the left, feeling heavily spectated by him and so hyper-conscious of all of your movements. The downturn of your lips gives way to burning in your eyes and before you can do anything about it, tears are spilling out. 

Jason sees it immediately, his head lulling helplessly. 

“Oh, baby. Please don’t cry, please.”

But that only makes it worse, the tears falling faster and heavier at his soft tone.

He forgoes asking permission and pulls you directly into his chest, a firm hand on the back of your head. It’s what you needed though, to be close to him right now.

“I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry, baby—” he murmurs against your hair, pressing a rough kiss as he holds you tighter.

You shake your head, sniffling. “It’s okay, Jay.”

“No, it’s not.”

That sentiment lingers for several minutes, as he holds you cheek to chest and rubs soothing patterns into your hair.

It’s not long before you’re able to fully relax against him, his touch feeling nothing short of therapeutic. Your breathing eventually levels out back to baseline and your thoughts start to find peace amongst themselves.

When you’re ready, you sit back from him, letting him see your face again.                    

He visibly winces as he scans over the tears on your cheeks, how they’re starting to stain.

You’re still upset, a little, but not nearly as much as you’re sure your face is conveying. 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, wiping your eyes with your sleeve.

He shakes his head, “If I ever say something like that to you again, hit me. I’m serious.”

You drop your hand onto your lap, tilting your head at him with a serious look. “I’m not going to hit you—”

“Then break up with me. Don’t ever let somebody talk to you like that, especially not me.”

His voice is hard and you can tell the impact of his words have every bit of weight intended.

Your mouth closes and you waver unsure of where to go with that. Your gaze falls down to where your hands lie discarded on your lap and there’s a palpable shift to the air in the room.

“Hey.” He pushes your chin up to make you look at him, “Listen to me. You’re the love of my life. You hear me? I’m supposed to take care of you, make you happy. I don’t…I can’t talk to you like that. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Your eyes flicker back and forth across each others and you can see the genuine sincerity etched plainly across his face.

He processes the comprehension across your own before his jaw tenses for a moment and he adds, “Nobody’s gonna talk to you like that, much less me. Yes?” 

You start to nod slowly and he mirrors you until he’s convinced of your belief in the statement. 

He rubs calm circles into your thighs as you both sit with the conversation, the light sounds of each others breaths the only sound heard. This silence isn’t the same as it was before though, it’s safer, more comfortable. It’s familiar, if not weighted.  

“I love you,” you tell him quietly.

His eyebrows furrow like his heart was just shattered. 

“I love you too, baby. So much.”

🦟 if you don't reblog things i'm actively sending bad vibes your way 🦟 and maybe also a plague

[grugruel]

Can you do that for me?

Pairings: ruined!Jayce x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: Formerly partners, you've started a new business in Zaun after Jayce's disappearance. One day, after hearing whispers of Victor's apparent evolution, Jayce shows up unannounced.

Wordcount: 4.2 k

Warnings: Some canon stuff (beware spoilers), pinv sex, angst, fluff, fingering, slight handjob, choking, biting, creampie, doggy, missionary, cowgirl (a lot of positions), sub/dom/switch!Jayce, power struggle, fight for dominance, praise (f and m recieving), spanking, overstimulation, "I love you", difficult feelings, hot depraved Jayce.

AN: Not proofread, I intend to make a few changes to it later but wanted to get it out. Might be spelling mistakes. I tried to fit a bit of everything into this. ENJOY GIRLIES🎀

Having pulled the curtains aside, a vigilant man inspects the dark streets below. "He's almost here, ma'am," the man says, eyes following the subject. There's a slight stiffnes to his stance, as if he's readying himself for a fight. "What do you want us to do?"

"Let him in," she smiles at him faintly, attempting to reassure the large man before returning to her paperwork. "Dont give him trouble, there's nothing to fear."

The guard nods slowly and crosses the room to leave, he knows she's right. Yet, he stays in the doorway, shoulders slumped and arms crossed.

Warm light creeps in through the entryway, contrasting the faint light that Zauns streetlights provide for her otherwise gloomy office.

Noticing how the strong wash of light remains, she looks up at her guard to find another question lingering on his lips. "I've know you long enough to tell when something ails you." She leans back in her chair.

He catches her gaze reluctantly, facing away before he speaks. The man clears his throat, he knows he's crossing a line. "He's trouble, if you ask me. The boys and I-"

The woman pulls her glasses of and sighs, done with her work for the evening. "Im a big girl, I can handle myself."

The guard leans against the doorway and shrugs in reluctant recognition. "We're worried for you, ma'am-" but catching himself on his words, his hands gesture to remedy his meaning. "Respectfully, of course," he ads quickly, aversed to insult his employer.

The woman stands slowly, walking around her crammed desk to casually prop herself next to him. "I know," she reassures, placing a soft hand on his chest. "But I'll be fine, send him in."

The large man huffs. "We'll be outside then," he begins, but as the next words begin to form on his tongue, he decides against it, solely out of trust for his employer. If he could, he would've added 'when you need us'.

She doesnt doubt it, nor does she take offence. They're a tight knit family down here, she cares for them as much as they do her. But this would be an interaction no family member should hear. "That won't be necessary, keep to the foyer . . . Now go," she hurries him, careful to keep an understanding smile on her lips lest he changes his mind.

With a heavy breath and one last glance, the guard reluctantly closes the door and heavy footsteps recede.

She sighs, moving to brace her hands against the desktop and preparing herself for whats to come, for what she suspects.

She lights the lantern on her desk and waits. Only a moment later the same warm light creeps into the room. She twitches, unprepared for his arrival inspite of her efforts as the squeaking door slices through the eerily silent space.

In her peripheral, a fallen man stands. He's tired and dirty. Cut up and run down. There's a moment of contemplation between her and the newcomer, she does not move and neither does he. It's been a long time.

Squeak, thump, click . . . Pause. He's locked the door. A heavy thud between metal and wood sounds next, there's a faint sound of coarse skin sliding along fine metal before the familiar vibrations of hextech dies out.

All that exists between them now is heavy breathing in two parts, laboring against their own minds and bodies.

The floorboards begin to creek, irregularly, as if the weight placed upon them has not yet decided it's course of action. She grips the desktop harder, fingernails burrying into fine wood. She can only guess why he has come. "It's Viktor, isn't it?" She breathes, trying hard to keep her voice steady.

She gets no response, the only answer she recieves is the creeking of floorboards as the uncertain weight shifts back and forth. But that is all the answer she needs.

Having seamingly made up his mind, determined footsteps approach her in a sudden haste. Srong arms wrap around her body, pulling her toward a hard chest in a tight, tight embrace. His head collides with her shoulderblade as he burries his face in her scent. Muffled by her body, strained breaths blow welcome warmth onto her skin.

"What's happened?" She whispers, not entirely sure she wants the answer for she can smell him now. Metal and gunpowder. But it's not the type raw metal used for smithing or creating, it's not the metal she's used to. No, this is pungent, corporeal. It's blood. "Jayce, please . . . " She begins, 'talk to me' her lips shape, but no sound comes out. Unable to muster the strength.

"Cant- I cant . . . talk about it. Not now, not yet," he manages, voice rough as if he has fought and damp breath raising goosebumps on her neck. "I just . . . Needed you. I need you."

A strong hand slides higher, knuckles intently brushing the underside of her breast. "Can't think anymore."

And inspite of her better judgement. "Ok," she agrees, whispering, as if her consience wouldnt be able to hear. She's missed him, worried for him. So, her body betrays her.

Laying her hand on top of his, she guides him over the hill of her breast.

His breath hitches while his other hand move downward, tracing her ribs, down her waist, stopping on her thigh and squeezing tenderly. Soft flesh dimpling beneath the force of strong fingers. "I've been lost, " his voice breaks. "Missed you." His hands slide further down to slither under the slit in her dress.

"No feelings right now, Jayce . . . Please, just-"

Two fingers slip inside of her and she gasps. "No feelings," he assures, placing a gentle kiss on her neck.

"Good, good . . . " she moans.

While massaging her breast his thumb finds her clit and tongue her neck, gently nipping and sucking on the crook of her neck. Her body grows to weak to hold itself upright so she puts her weight on her arms. Noticing, he holds her tighter and pushes her weight against the desk. "Already?" He whispers, dragging his teeth along the shell of her ear as his fingers steadily thrusts in and out of her. "You're making it too easy for me."

A breathless chuckle leaves her, crammed between heavy groans. "You work with your hands . . . Mmmh, unfair advantage."

He bites her earlobe, tugging, teasing. "So do you, if I remember correctly." A grin twists her lips as her hand reaches between them and palms his enlarged bulge. He hisses as she begins to stroke it, heat immedietly surfacing as the friction between fabric and skin grows. "Mhhg, that's what I thought," he groans. "Good girl."

He pushes a third finger inside off her, curling them at just the right angle.

"Fuck!" Her free hand curls into a fist, joints having nothing better to do than occupy themselves in anyway they can. He puts more focus on her clit, rubbing dutyful circles into and and finally pushes her over the edge. "Mhh, shit-"

His fingers slow down as she hits her high, gently leading her through it as he supports her weight. "Just breathe, that's right . . . "

Her breathing has become a mixture of moans and wheezes, the pleasure stimulating every nerve in her body. "Did you . . . ?" She asks, suddenly remember her hand on his clothed member.

"No," he whispers and kisses her temple. "Theres time." He tries to turn her around. But fear grips her. "No-" she stops him, gripping the edge of the desk to keep herself in place. Seeing the changes up close would make them real, would make whatever he has come from, real. "I can't look at you . . . not yet." She reaches over her shoulder to cup his jaw, and just like that, their bubble of reminiscence bursts. They arent colleagues anymore and havent been for a long time. Nor is their third party longer there to rationalise with them. A shrap jab strikes her heart. "Give me time, and just," her other hand reaches behind her, grabbing the fabric on his hip to pull him closer, pressing his erection against the curve of her ass. "Like this for now, Jayce. Please . . ."

His head lulls against her back, pushing his forehead firmly into her spine whilst releasing a big, shaky breath. She can feel him bare his teeth, silently working through the consequences of his actions.

He doesn't answer, he only obeys.

It goes silent for a short moment, until the warmth on her hips disappear and the metal clanging of a belt buckle sounds behind her.

Quickly, one hand returns to her thigh to pull her dress over her ass.

"Dont hold back," she says.

There's a pause in his movements. "Are you certain?"

She nods and he wastes no time. Pushing himself against her, his knees spread her legs efficiently, just liked they've practiced many times before. With no further warning, he sinks into her. One hand crossing over her waist as the other grabs her shoulder, then sets a ruthless pace.

Somehow she knows he needs to get this out of him, the pent of fury and need. But she doesnt complain, he always knew what he was doing.

The sound of slapping fills her office, while the lewd squelching from her previous orgasm further spurs them on. He bends over her, changing his grip. Fingers snaking around her throat as his knee and free hand work together to fish one of her legs onto the desk, hitting her deeper, harder. His thrusts are no longer about speed, but of that one special little spot.

He puts pressure on her throat, almost painstakingly so. But it feels heavenly and she wouldn't have it any other way.

With each rut, his members perfectly fills her. His face is next to hers and he kisses had bites around her neck and ear, making sure she knows how good he makes her fell by grunting and moaning right into her ear. It makes that pulsing in her core worse, and he seems to notice.

"Yeah, you like that?" He groans, kissing her soft skin right behind the ear.

"Mmmhmm," she hums, voice vibrating with the bumping of their bodies. Doing her best to keep silent, afraid that one of her guards suddenly decides to check up on her.

"Let me hear you, use your words," he breathes, flexing the fingers around her throat and biting her shoulder.

"Fuck-" her knuckles and nails take turns in destroying her desk, scratching and denting the expensive wood grain. "I like making you, mmh . . . feel good." She manages, words stuttering between thrusts.

He gently pulls on her ear with his teeth. "Good," he whispers, then releases her throat and places his hand on the back of her neck, pushing her against the desktop.

Slap. His hands comes down on her ass, then gripping the plump flesh hard to lessen some of the stinging. A jolt of electricity shoots through her and her insides clench arouns him.

Jayce whimpers from the sudden, godlike pleasure. "Wanna hear you, honey, don't be shy." His hand comes down again, harder this time.

She squeezes around him, nerves on fire as she feels her second climax building up inside her. She moans as tears run down her face, happy pleasurable tears only Jayce has been able to produce.

"That's it . . ." He slaps her ass a third time, and the wall inside her core crumbles. With a whimper, she comes. "You did so good, lovely, im almost there," he assures her. Tears stream down her face as his thrusts grow irregular, but continues to pleasure her body. "Fuck," she cries, squirming from the drawn out orgasm. One hand holds her steady at the hip while the other slides up her back, rubbing her tender body until he brushes away stray hair from her profile.

"Hold on a little longer, just breathe, baby," he comforts her, such a stark contrast to the rough thrusts he's been dealing her body. Her fingers are jittery from the overstimulation, they ached to touch him, pull his hair, anything. But she can not reach, so she presses her palms against the table to keep them occupied.

As he sees her tear streaked face, one last blow lands on her ass and he too, comes. He collapses on top of her, they attempt to regain their strength as their sweaty bodies lie flush against eachother.

After a few moments of breathing heavily together, Jayce wraps an arm around her torso and splays his hand over her rips, pulling her with him as he straightens out.

Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes and turns around. Hands finding his face, guiding her lips to his.

"Please look at me, my beautiful girl. Look at me," he pleads, murmuring the words against her lips.

She opens her eyes and his breath hitches. Yellow, brown irises meet her won. They're the exact same ones she knew not too long ago. Except . . . Haunted.

His fingers brush along her cheek, jaw and down her throat. She winces at the soft touch and his brows furrow in confusion.

Capturing her chin, he tilts her head back.

"It's fine, I'm fine," she whispers, assuring him as she sees his expression. Pure shock animates them.

"I don't-" his fingers trace the red marks running around her throat and tears begin to form in the corners of his eyes. "Im so sorry." He falls to his knees, hands resting against her chins as he hides his face between them. "I don't know-" he chokes and kisses her legs with remorse. He pecks her delicately, trailing his lips over her knees and up her thighs, hands following behind, tracing the outside of her legs until they reach her waist and encircle her. He hugs her tightly, knees sore against the hard wood. "Im not right," he breathes, head lulling into her lap. She can feel wetness coating her skin, running between her thighs.

She exhales heavily and slides down the desk until the hard wooden floor welcomes her thighs.

They stay like this for a good long while, she's in no rush and neither is he. Over and over again, her fingers comb through his overgrown and unpreened hair while the sensation of his seed drips out of her. Sharp nails gently scratch at the nape of his neck, they trace his bonestructure and play with its halls and valleys. The back of her fingers caress the length of his nose and sharpness of his cheekbone.

All the while Jayce lays wordless, occasionally squeezing her thighs, her hips. Occasionally trailing featherlight touches along her legs, watching with wonder how goosebumps rise and fall.

She chuckles beneath her breath. It's the same expression he used to get when making progress in the lap, just like when they first cracked the hextech runes. "Jayce," she says, attempting to grab his attention.

Crouching beneath her, he looks up from her lap, chin resting on the softness of her flesh. His face glistens and eyes plead. He looks at her with fatigue, wordlessly asking for her forgiveness.

"What happened?" She asks, her voice soft but words demanding. She's not getting dersuled this time, she needs answers.

He shakes his head, reluctantly drawing his lips into a thin line as he breaks away from her gaze.

Her eyebrows twist together. "What have you done?" She asks, anger laces her tone now. But he closes his eyes, the corners of his eyes gleaming again. The fingers burried in his hair curl into a fist and she pulls his head back, forcing him look at her. "What. Have. You. Done?"

His eyes shift between hers, uncertain, unwilling. "He's gone . . . " He begins. "I had to, I had to–the hexcore, it was poisoning him, spreading like a disease." His voice is coarse. "I had to stop him, there was no other choice."

Her eyes grow. Viktor . . . Gone? She could only assume when Jayce suddenly pays her a visit, but never dared believe.

"I never ment to leave you," he says, hand reaching out to grab her waist. "You have to believe me." He rouches the fabric at the waist, white knuckling it out of desperation for an ounce of u derstanding. "Hextech isnt what we thought it was, not anymore. Viktor couldnt see it, he was infecting the undercity, it would've spread to Piltover, the rest of the world if I didn't stop him."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "But he was saving them, freeing them of shimmer."

"No . . . they weren't themselves anymore. I've been away, lost. I've seen–" She waits for him to continue, but he doesn't. "The hexcore mutates them, changes them. I had to stop him. It, the core."

Her eyes drift the Jayce's hammer posted by the door. "Like your hammer?" She studies the now misshapen weapon, once crafted with obsessive precision. Her eyes drift lower along the neck and over its face, blood splatter.

She looks away, closing her eyes to recollect herself. Remembering to strongly the smell of blood Jayce had arrived with.

"Yes," he says. "Like I did." His hand reaches up to loosely cup her face. She notices how the crystal from his old bracelet has fused with his skin. Her fingers run along his arm and slides along the crystal, feeling it, inspecting it. "I didn't chose this," he murmurs. "I didn't chose to leave you . . . I love you." His hand falls back to his side.

She's taken aback. Its not something they've said before, not while still partners, not before all of, this . . . But despite herself, she believes him. They were colleagues for a long time and affection had always kept them together. He wouldn't hurt Viktor without reason.

With hooded eyes and parted lips, he studies her, waiting for her judgement.

"You had to," she nods, seamingly decided.

Relief and disappointment floods his face all at once. He'd expected an 'I love you' back.

She leans in, kissing him for the first time since he disappeared. Finally reunited. "We'll get through this, ok?" her voice is uncertain, what's happened has not been fully processed.

"Ok," he agrees and straightens his back, carefully placing small kisses along her abdomen as he does so, afraid he'll scare her away. "I've missed you so damn much." He levels his head with hers, meeting her gaze head on.

"I've missed you too," she responds. "But I need you now, Jayce. Can you do that for me?" She places a soft kiss on his lips.

"Certainly," he murmurs against them.

She stands, slinding his hand into hers and leads him to the bed. With his back to the bed, she places her hands on his chest and pushes him into sitting at the edge of the bed.

One leg over the other, she straddles him, standing on her knees so he has to look up at her. His she brushes the hair away from his eyes and lowers her lips to ghost over his. Their scared and quivering, needy to be on hers.

His hands slide up her sides and curves around her back, coming to rest in the arch above her ass. Gently, he massages circles into her skin, tickling her intentionaly.

She squirms beneath his touch, luring a satisfied grin from him. "You look good like this." Her fingers run through his beard, tracing his new scars. "Dangerous." Reaching down between them and into his pants, she pulls Jayce's member free and lowers herself just enough to tease his tip.

With a hiss, he locks his thumb over her hipbones and wanting to guide her onto him.

She shakes her head, a smirk playing in the corner of her lips. "My turn," she whispers and pull the straps of her dress down, letting it gather at her hips. Jayce's eyes immeidetly fall as his hands slide up her ribs with a specific destination in mind. "Dont touch," she warns. "Now look at me, Jayce." Her chest is inches from his face, but unallowed to look and unable to touch, his eyes appear like that of a wounded stag.

Her nimble fingers work on the buttons of his shirt and quickly slides it off of his shoulders. "Ive missed this," she purs, dragging a finger down his torso, her nail leaving a white scratched up mark behind it. "But this is new," she refers to the chest hair she's never seen before. "I like that, too." Her lips meet his jaw as she leaves kisses all the way down to his collarbone and shoulder. Her continues down his abdomen and below his v-line, then there's a sharp intake of breath as she stokes his member, circling the leaking pre-cum around his tip.

"Devil woman," he groans, but there's a twisted smile to his lips.

She returns it and takes a step back, letting the dress fall completely as if wanting to prove his point and oh, how she revels in the desperation on his face.

Her gaze fixes on his hands, clenching and unclencing in his lap, knuckles white from the strain. She bites her lip. "You look good like this," she repeats. "All, fallen apart . . . " She steps closer, placing herself between his legs. "Bloody and broken."

Never has he taken his eyes off of hers, and as she lowers herself onto his lap once more, she finds his member and lines him up. And finally, she sinks onto his thick inches. Still, he does not touch her. There is only a desperate whimper leaving his lips at the much needed pressure. Obedient, or respcetful? Either way, he deserves his praise. "Good boy. Now, touch me," she whispers and topple them over.

He twitches inside her at the words, but before she can react he's upon her. Fitting one breast into his mouth and the other in his hand, he licks and spits and squeezes. Sucking the entierty of her tender, plush flesh into his mouth.

"Ooh," she braces herself, strings of pleasure and heavy breaths return to them. "You liked that didn't you, pretty boy?" All she gets in response is humming between the lewd, obscene slurping.

Alright, then. Putting a hand on his chest for support, she begins to move, rocking back and forth just watching his expression of pleased torture.

Moving his hands to her hips, lips tear free from her breast for some much needed air, only to replace them upon her lips and kiss her with fervour.

She sits up, getting a better vantage and he follows not long thereafter. Unable to sit by and let her do the work. Leaning back on one hand and wrapping the other around her back, he helps her rut against him while he can't softly thrust up to meet her. "Fuck me- Jayce . . . " She gasps, hardly able to get enough air to moan.

He grins against her lips, sharing their breaths. "You liked that didn't you, pretty girl?" He mocks her.

She laughs breathlessly and digs her nails into his biceps. "Naughty," she murmurs and bites his lip, drawing blood. Again, she feels his member twitch amidst all the rocking between them. Their eyes meet and share a knowing glance. She cocks an eyebrow, he blushes. "That's what I thought," she smirks. It's her win, for now.

Unable to let it slide, Jayce takes the reigns. Flipping them over, he pins her beneath him without missing a single thrust. Amidst the confusion, he interlocks their fingers and pulls her arms above her head, stretching her out and limiting her movement.

She squirms against his restrains, testing the limits but he's rock solid. With her legs around his waist, he thrust perfectly into her and she cant help but roll her hips. She can feel the knot tightening in her core and she furrows her brows with displeasure. Missionary always did her in, he'll win. "Unfair," she moans, throwing her head back as waves of pleasure wash over her with every movement of his hips.

He moves one pair of their locked hands down so ha can stroke her throat with his thumb, placing soft kisses on the damage he caused.

His tenderness alone could cause her to crumble. "Put your back into it at least," she whines, realising she only had her pettiness left. Being beneath him, in his control feels way better than any win she could earn.

A breathless chuckle leaves him. "Yes, ma'am," he grunts, releases her and pulls out before he hooks her legs over his shoulders and thrusts back in. Hands finally free, she cups his face and pulls him in for a kiss concealing the cries bubbling up in her throat. For as it stands, he moves expertly and he's deeper–better than any man ever has been. "Fuck me-"

He smirks. "Tell me I'm good, again . . . " Shes uncertain if this is his ego talking or- "Please, please tell me im good," he whimpers, kissing her inbetween every word.

Without warning her third orgasm washes over her, back arching and nails digging into Jayce's cheeks. "You're so good to me," she sobs. "Such a good boy."

His thrusts falter and then he too, comes. Filling her with his seed, once again.

With shaking limbs he falls to her side, one arm draped over her chest. Both breathing heavily as they regain their senses.

"You win," ge admits and kisses her temple.

Yes she does. "I love you, too," she smiles, heart and teeth achingly sweet.

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny adopts himself

It's a common joke in Gotham that Bruce Wayne will adopt any black-haired and blue-eyed traumatized boy he finds. So much so that even he leans into it. But he was completely shocked when Damian confronts him about having a new brother that he did not want.

Bruce could barely get a word in when the rest of the family arrived upset that they weren't told about getting another sibling after Damian texted the family group chat (for once).

Damian had encountered a boy around Drake's age moving stuff into what was an empty room. The room was now furnished top to bottom with glowing green lights, tapestries of stars, random artifacts, several telescopes, and model rockets.

He knew the moment he saw the black hair and blue eyes that his father had taken in another ward.

Apparently Bruce was the last the know about his new "son" who was currently rearranging furniture and asking to help Alfred with dinner.

Said dinner was an uncomfortable as Bruce was grilled by his kids on his addiction to adoption. Simultaneously they tried to get to know the new addition to the family.

It was easy to see that Damian didn't like Danny but it was equally easy to see that Danny could cow the boy like a border collie on a lamb. When Damian thew a dagger the teen caught it with one hand as it passed his face and then slid it across the table back to Damian.

"Try again. " Danny said "And this time don't aim to miss on purpose. If you want me dead you need to do better."

Damian put the knife away and huffed.

Tim and Danny hit it off almost instantly. The way they were able to bounce their thoughts back and forth made Tim believe that he found an equal.

Danny was able to understand Cassie immediately with just look in eachothers eyes like he was reading her mind but not in a creepy way.

Jason of course noticed the strange energy in the air around the kid. It was soothing. Like lavender wafting in the air. Well lavender for everyone else for him it was like opium. His eyes felt heavy like he had eaten a handful of poppy seeds. At the same time he felt full, like he had eating a full meal after starving for a week.

Whatever it is Damian was feeling it too. The demon looked even more his age as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. The crease in his brow gone.

Duke on the other hand was more on edge as his eyes flickered towards Danny before looking away. He had something he wanted to ask about the glowing boy but since no one can see it or just isn't saying anything he will keep quiet for now.

Next was Barbara who teased the new kid.

"So how do you like your new family? Ready to be the new robin?" She asked.

"Im robin." Damian mumbled groggily.

The others were waiting for Damian to finally fall asleep and glared at one another in a challenge to be the one to pick up Damian and put him to bed. Dick was winning.

Speaking of Dick, as expected he was off the wall excited to learn more about his new little brother. He wanted the full story as to why Bruce took him in. He could almost certainly guess it was because of a tragic situation and Dick was already ready to handle it as the greatest big brother ever and he wasn't sharing the title no matter what Barbara said. Even if she was Stephanie's favorite.

Bruce cleared his throat and the table went silent. "So, Danny. Where exactly did you come from? Why are you here? And how did you know who I am?"

Everyone went white. Did they all just risk their identities believing that Danny was a new Robin? Why didn't Bruce say something? Not even a signal for the protocol they would use.

Danny frowned looking a bit hurt.

"What do you mean, Bruce? You said you owed me. You said you'd give me anything I wanted if saved your son. I even helped you get back home when you got lost in time." Danny huffed feeling betrayed.

The table went silent.

Bruce made a few calculations in his brain before something must have come to mind. "I lost my memory for a bit so I need a bit of proof."

Danny placed a batarang on the table. The batarang had an engraving on it in a code that only Bruce knew.

"You told me to show this to Alfred when I came. We had a deal, Bruce. You promised me whatever I wanted." Danny huffed clearly insulted.

Just like Danny had said the code was the one Bruce had made. However this code wasn't a promise to grant a favor but to welcome someone new to the family. Past Bruce must have had plans to take the boy in but told Danny something else to lure him here.

Bruce recognized that everyone was right and he has a problem now that he's looking at it like this.

[ourceliumnetwork]

Well i certainly never expected to cry to a Harry Styles song, but my one Aunt has really just raised the bar on how I expect my family to be able to see me.

[watermelon-teas]

Imagine if Bruce just mentally groups Billy Batson in with the rest of his kids.

Sometimes when he’s picking up food he buys an extra kid’s meal by accident, and he has a hard time explaining why because the only other person who would have a kids meal, which is Damian, wouldn’t eat it because he’s vegan, and not that he would accept a children’s meal regardless.

Bruce also sometimes miscounts how many sons he has, this happens both when he’s talking to the press as Bruce Wayne and to the League as Batman. He does things like this so much that the rest of the bat family are slightly worried he actually does have another kid he hasn’t told anyone about.

What’s actually happening is that he’s just spending more time with Billy at JL meetings ever since he had found out his identity and kind of took him under his wing, in almost the same way he did to his sons, and this caused him to start being reminded of his sons by Billy, it also didn’t help that he was a young, orphaned boy, with black hair, and blue eyes.

Eventually Billy finds himself in the bat cave for whatever reason, and the whole time Dick is giving Bruce a look.

“We came here after patrol to check on something we found-“ Bruce tried.

Dick’s face twisted as he whisper shouted back. “You told me you were patrolling with Captain Marvel, but instead there’s a random kid in the bat cave, whose apparently your knew partner in crime-I don’t know how Damian’s going to handle being replaced as Robin”

“I’m not replacing Damian, and I didn’t lie to you Dick,” he turns to look at Billy, “…That is Captain Marvel”

“Wait what?”

“It’s true, I got my powers from a wizard!” Billy added.

“Wait what?”

[choerypetal]

Meet and Greet / Homelander

summary: Homelander had never experienced an obsession before, nor was he even familiar with the term until he met you at the meet and greet, where you were dressed in a recognizable blue costume.

*Pt-2!! read after this one— *

ps; english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar errors, xo"

Everyone knew that Homelander wouldn't hesitate to admit his obsession with you. His drive to be the best was deeply ingrained in his mind, and during a meeting with the Seven, your image lingered in his thoughts. Fortunately, he managed to hide these distractions before Ashley could express her concerns about the upcoming show—a significant one, especially since Homelander knew you would be attending with your family. He always knows. 

And he was right. Your parents, being big fans of the Seven, never wanted to miss a single annual show. This meant you had to tag along. "Come on, you have to wear it! Make Homelander proud," your mother insisted, holding up a superhero costume made in your exact size. Make Homelander proud. You sighed, wanting to object, but your attempt to call your mother's name was drowned out by the loud music in the store and an overly enthusiastic clerk who repeatedly asked if you were satisfied with your find. She was also wearing a costume, though not Homelander's, which made you suspect there would be more than just Homelander present that day.  

Fortunately, you weren't the only one wearing the costume you had put on for your mother, making it easier to blend into the crowd. However, this also made it easier for Homelander to spot you as soon as he stepped on stage. With Ashley having access to the ticket records, finding your last name had been a simple task. His eyes remained fixed on the screen the moment your name appeared, and he mouthed your entire name just as Ashley's voice startled him, reminding him it was time to go on stage. 

“Welcome! How lovely you all are!” he announced in his typical rehearsed tone. He was growing increasingly annoyed; the whole theatrical aspect bored him. Why couldn't the Deep handle it today? Or even someone new, while he sat in the back, scrutinizing every silhouette to find yours. It wasn’t difficult either, given that your parents had ensured you got the best seats. His lips curled into a sly smirk. Bingo, he thought. It still surprised him that, even without knowing your face, the name matched his expectations perfectly. He had to know. He was the Homelander after all. He knew everything. 

Luckily he managed to let out of his usual monologue, with the new recruits being presented today, it let him more time in his hands. And that also meant, seeking out for you when he had the chance. 

The show concluded as expected, with your mother delighted to see her favorite hero on stage and your dad eager to meet Starlight again. During the ongoing meet-and-greet, Homelander couldn’t help but observe your every move. Despite your apparent boredom, the fact that you were wearing a costume identical to his caught his attention. He couldn't deny that you looked incredibly sexy, and he fantasized about having his hands around your waist, hearing your moans, and you begging for more. 

“Sir,” Ashley’s voice broke through his thoughts, catching him off guard and irritating him since it meant he couldn't keep watching you. After all, as Homelander, he was doing the city justice by ensuring your safety. Right? “It’s time for your meet-and-greet,” she reminded him. With a knowing nod, he indicated he would be right there. Little did you know, you were one of the few fans waiting in line to meet him. 

He wasn't entirely wrong. Once again, your mother had requested you to take a picture with him. You always wondered why she couldn't do it herself, citing being 'just shy,' but deep down you knew the real reason was that she wanted to see her own daughter with the man she fantasized about. Unlike her, you weren't a fan of superheroes and their inflated egos. Yet, here you were, waiting in line between a family and two fangirling girls. 

“Thank you, and have a wonderful day. God Bless you!” he said, flashing a wide grin as he ruffled the boy’s hair after taking pictures. In just a few minutes, you would be up next, and you were acutely aware of it. He, too, was counting the people in line, noting your silhouette emerging behind a tall man. The way the outfit hugged your curves and the cape flowed on your back caught his eye. Oh how he wanted to fuck you right there. He wanted to have you all wrapped around his finger. And he knew exactly how to get you, if only Ashley was there. 

As you neared the photo booth, you reluctantly acknowledged that despite your aversion to heroes, Homelander possessed an undeniable allure. Whether it was his striking blue eyes or his impeccably groomed hair, you couldn't quite determine. “Next,” the disinterested employee called out, mirroring the lack of enthusiasm you had felt upon arriving at the show. Barely glancing at you, they scratched the bottom of your ticket and directed you toward Homelander. It was then that you made eye contact with him for the first time, and he couldn't look away.

"Hello, dear," he greeted you formally, like everyone else, but his tone made him stand out. His fingers gently rested on your waist, pulling you close until there was no space between you. "Say cheese!" the photographer prompted, but Homelander, true to form, knew more than just posing for a picture. "Nah, let me get my best side, will you?" he interjected, subtly extending your time together. The photographer hesitated, eyeing the remaining fans in line, but Homelander paid no attention. With a soft scoff, he leaned closer and murmured in your ear, his voice almost a whisper of a threat, yet his lips curved into a smile when he glanced down at you. "Loving the costume," he added with a quick smile for the camera. His charisma left you breathless, and he noticed you weren't ready for the picture.

His comment caught you off guard, and the way he leaned closer only added to your unease. Sensing your muscles tense at his touch, he directed the photographer to take another shot. The photographer, aware of the waiting line, was hesitant, but Homelander insisted. "We don’t want this beautiful lady to go home with a bad photo now, do we?" That damn bastard, the photographer likely thought, as you glanced at him hesitantly. He glanced at the line, sighed deeply, and the resignation in his eyes mirrored your own thoughts.

Homelander, on the other hand, relished the opportunity to keep you wrapped around his finger for as long as he desired. If he had the courage, or if your parents weren’t around, he might have invited you to join the Seven. But he knew better than anyone that he had to make a good impression. "Say cheese," the photographer repeated, his voice now tinged with boredom. You noticed the tension in Homelander’s jaw as he clenched it. He glanced at you, a smile playing on his lips, before glaring at the photographer, which was enough to make the poor man gulp silently and mirror the same grin.

And that's where his obsession took hold completely. The scent of your perfume, the way your hair was immaculately styled into a neat ponytail, and your lightly applied blush with rosy plum lips—all were irresistible to him. He couldn't deny that your lips were the most enticing he'd ever seen. His fingers now traced the leather of your Homelander costume, appreciating how it hugged your curves perfectly. Oh, how he...

“Done!” The photographer's almost relieved voice snapped John back to reality. Despite maintaining his composure during the photo session, his thoughts had wandered to fantasies of you. He imagined you beneath him, taking his cock so well, one hand firmly massaging your breast, his lips eagerly seeking the fresh milk oozing from your nipples. And you... so vulnerable, so petite around him, begging for more...

From that day on, Homelander never missed an opportunity to see your face again. It seemed almost too good to be true when he later had the chance to meet your mother and requested that you accompany her more often to their annual shows. He promised to show his appreciation, hinting that he would return the favor very soon.

[narcjsistx]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆... | sae itoshi, shidou ryusei, kaiser micheal

part two with reo, rin and bachira soon!!

plot: you're in a nonpublic relationship, but one gesture in particular blows your cover <3

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

— sae itoshi

That you had always been attracted to impossible things was not unknown: as a child you loved unicorns, one of the most imaginative and magical creatures ever. You believed you could love even something impossible, and the same thing had more or less happened when you met your boyfriend, Sae Itoshi. Sae was something impossible, out of your reach for the simple fact that you were a very normal person when he was one of the most famous U-20 soccer players in the world and, above all, of the moment

Sae was impossible, and you had always liked the impossible. That's how you liked to tell your mother when she asked how you ended up in a relationship with him. Known for a big misunderstanding in a public laundry, for a reason still unknown to you, fate had decided that this was not the last time you would see each other

The choice had come when Sae had explicitly asked you for it: not that he was ashamed of you or anything like that, but fame brings negative things as well as positive ones. One of them was privacy. Although after years he was used to invasions of privacy even during a walk, he didn't want to ruin what had always been normality for you. So no one, other than your families and a few friends of yours, knew about you two

And so, a little over a year after you had made it official only to your families that you were together as a couple, the thing that was impossible for you was how your cover was still standing. You didn't mind being in a nonpublic relationship, in fact you found it more pleasant and intimate, but Sae was famous all over the world: you knew that sooner or later everything would collapse like a house of playing cards

And evidently that day was today

"So, who is she?" his teammate asks again, the Spanish accent thick in every word. Your fingers tighten around the handles of his sports bag, desperately searching for a way that doesn't confirm what practically everyone in the room has already assumed. 10 pairs of eyes stare at you curiously, waiting for either you or Sae to speak and make up an excuse that they can deny

The last match that ReAl had won against an equally Spanish team had ended less than an hour ago. It was Valentine's Day, and the stadium where the match was played had made VIP seats available to which only the players partners could access. The partners had a card previously given by the boyfriends which gave the possibility of walking in certain areas of the stadium, one of which was the locker room. You had remained in the popular stands for the entire match, and after the end you had decided to use your VIP pass, which Sae had given you a few days before, to go and congratulate and surprise him. You had purposely waited a full hour to get in just so all the other teammates would leave, but apparently something had been holding them back

The players didn't know you, it was a secret relationship after all. The partners who usually came to see their boyfriends knew each other, and Sae was still the only one no one had ever seen with a girl. Everything fit with the perfect fall of the cover that you had so carefully supported

"umh" you stutter embarrassed. The most damning proof you have is undoubtedly the Sae sports bag you have in your hands, which stands out for its black color instead of the white and red that ReAl uses. You take a few steps back, not knowing at all how to escape the situation, much less where Sae is, who you don't even see in the locker room. His stuff is here, his teammates are here, but where is he dammit?

"We've never eaten anyone, or at least off the field" says a boy who gets up, making the rest of his teammates laugh. You recognize him for being a braggart that Sae tells you about every now and then, who has 100 girls and every game brings a new one. You roll your eyes at the tasteless joke, trying not to let your annoyance show

"I probably went to the wrong locker room, please excuse me..." you say turning on your heel, heading towards the exit, but the boy's hand grabs your wrist just enough to make you immobilize "It's not a problem, you don't have to apologize. But I don't think you're here by mistake..." the boy says laughing cheerfully, and really, you don't understand all his humor. You try to free yourself from the grip on the wrist, but the soccer player doesn't seem to give in as he makes some of his teammates laugh with sleazy jokes

“Could you let go of my wrist?” you say trying to sound polite, but he shakes his head "We need to figure out who your boyfriend is first! Victor, is she your girlfriend?" the boy asks, making you turn towards another guy, who obviously shakes his head "Sanchez, is this yours?" he asks another again, and you can't explain why you have to suffer such humiliating treatment if you haven't actually done anything wrong

"Arion, is it your-" the boy says, but someone interrupts him "She's my girlfriend."

Everyone turns towards the voice, including you: Sae, fresh out of the shower wearing sweatpants and a simple towel around his neck, peeks out from the locker room showers. His eyes waver a little at seeing you here, surprised at the whole situation and above all not understanding how you ended up here. He tilts his head, his usual apathetic look at the boy next to you "You should let go her wrist" he says taking a few steps forward, the usual nonchalance typical of his character. "Oh! Oh, yes" says the boy, immediately pulling away, taking a few steps back. The grip on your wrist releases, easing the pressure you had built up. You breathe a sigh of relief, but at the same time remember what situation you are in: the relationship that you had covered for so long has just come to light

You look up at Sae, who you think is the least bit angry, but there isn't a shred of anger in his face, in fact, he almost seems relieved. He comes in front of you, taking his sports bag that you had in your hands "Thanks. Two minutes and we can go" he says putting it back on the floor, putting a clean t-shirt on and putting the towel back on in his black bag. You look at him embarrassed, not daring to look at any of his teammates who have remained silent in the meantime

Sae stands up, holding his bag with one hand and grabbing yours with the other, letting your palms and fingers connect "Let's go" he says, nodding his head. You leave the locker room, everyone's gaze still on you. Start walking towards the back of the stadium, heading towards the car parks dedicated to the players cars. A slight, uncomfortable silence hangs between you two, and you wonder if he's simply thinking of a way to restore everything to how it was and make your relationship nonpublic again

"It wasn't that bad anyway. You can ask your teammates to just shut up" you say, looking down, but a light squeeze on your hand makes you look up in his direction “Huh?” he asks, and you try to sound clearer "For the relationship. You can tell your classmates not to talk-" you say, but he cuts you off even before you finish "Do you want to make it nonpublic again?" he asks, and you find yourself thinking about it

Being nonpublic had never been a problem for you, you appreciated that Sae cared so much about your privacy. On the other hand, your privacy never really mattered much to you: you wanted to walk with him and hold his hand even in front of a crowd, not pretend not to know him as often happened. If being with him meant sacrificing something, you would have done so immediately and without even thinking about

“I'm actually okay with being public-” you say and at the same moment you see him sigh more calmly “What is it?” you ask curiously "I've been waiting a long time to ask you this. But I didn't want to seem hypocritical since I asked you to make it nonpublic" Sae says, and almost immediately you smile at his words

The impossible was something that actually often actually happened. It had happened that you got dating to the prodigy of Japan, and it was happening now when you were officially made his girlfriend for all his fans and the world

— shidou ryusei

“You went too far as usual” you say, rolling your eyes, albeit amused. Shidou chuckles, buttoning up the buttons that hide your chest “You should be used to it” he says looking up after finishing his work. You laugh softly, still amazed at how you let yourself be dragged into such a situation. But then you think about it and you understand that avoiding these situations with your boyfriend is far too difficult. Shidou cups your face in his hands, tilting your head slightly to look at his beautiful work: two red and purple marks stand out from many other small ones. He observes them with a certain pride, stroking the bite mark he left on you with his thumb

“I don't think this was the break the director intended” you say, walking towards the door, reluctantly releasing the grip Shidou had. You hear him murmuring something, but you don't pay attention to it as you brush your hair to the side, leaving the hickeys on your neck visible: you have to walk in an empty corridor and you're hot, so you're not at risk. You place your hand on the doorknob, headed to exit and return to the car, but you are petrified when the entire corridor turns out to be filled with journalists

You stand there, motionless, and Shidou appears behind you, also intending to leave. He stands still, but less shocked, a few steps behind you. Everyone turns in your direction, and an awkward silence hangs in the narrow space delimited by the walls. Many, if not all, notice the red marks on your neck and there are more than a few surprised expressions. Some cameras turn towards you, some journalists take their microphones in case the situation requires them

And you immediately regret having, for the umpteenth time, indulged Shidou's shitty ideas. You knew you had to wait for him in the car so that he could go home with you at the end of the interview, but his messages had convinced you that there was no harm in sneaking out for a few minutes. While you were waiting he had sent you messages telling you that his interview was late and that the director had advised him to go to a private room to relax before his shift. He had asked you to come in to keep him company, that you could sneak in for a few minutes since the corridors were empty, and that he simply needed you. And so you found yourself against the wall with your boyfriend's lips on your neck, killing time until his interview

But evidently something had gone wrong with the program in mind, because now you had more than 100 journalists waiting their turn and now they had a front page story. You and him had been together for a while, and the agreement between you was to keep your relationship nonpublic for a while because the media often went heavy on their idols partners

But the cover seemed to have been blown

"Shidou, Shidou Ryusei? With a mysterious girl?" says a journalist, directing the microphone at you "The king of the penalty area with a woman?" someone else says, and from then on you just hear everyone else making up name after name as they try to get some information out of you two

"Holy shit" you whisper to yourself, covering your hickeys with your hair, even though everyone has noticed them by now. You die of embarrassment at all these eyes staring at you, and the best option at the moment seems to be going back into the room and hoping that this is all just a trick your mind is playing on you. You knew that sooner or later you would make it official, but you didn't think this way and especially with you in these conditions. It all looked perfectly like the most colossal figure of shit the human lifeform had ever seen in this shitty life

You look for Shidou, but when you turn you can't find him anymore. You wonder if he seriously followed the advice to go back to the room and hope it's all a dream, but you know that's not your man's style: instead you feel your shoulders surrounded by his arm, which promptly squeezes you to the point of keeping you by your side alongside. You turn towards him, and on his face you notice that his usual smirk that never leads to anything good. Something's about to explode

"Ladies, gentlemen! One at a time, please" he says loudly, and the attention they previously had on you shifts to him, who has always dominated the scene better in a frighteningly natural way "This racket for WHAT? Two red marks? You've never seen worse, then" he says, and as you thought his joke provokes a small laugh from everyone

The journalists try to get the best place in front of you, and perplexed you turn to Shidou "Don't do anything I might regret" you say almost in a whisper, but he grins "Let me do it, babe. I tied them to my finger like fish to a fishing line" he says confidently, and it's his confidence that worries you. Some journalist raises the microphone, firing off questions that you don't even understand because of the speed. Shidou still doesn't understand them, and after several attempts he gives up; he waves his hand, moving the microphones away

"I thought I would talk today about my relationship with the beautiful girl in question here, but evidently the scoop will go to you and not to the agency we are in" he says dramatically, as if he actually regretted giving information to others. "What did you want to do?" you whisper perplexed, not knowing that his goal today was to make it official anyway. Shidou turns to you, grabs your waist and bends your back, his chest smeared against his “Media, meet my fucking beloved girlfriend!” he says, kissing you. Confused, you don't know how to react, but shortly after you give in and respond to the kiss, placing your hand against his face. The journalists explode, the cameras start filming and broadcasting. It's an understatement that you have shocked the media for at least the next few days, but with Shidou in the end everything is unpredictable and without explosions

It wasn't the way you expected to make it official, but as long as it works it's fine, right?

— micheal kaiser

The subtle smell of french fries hung in the air, mixing with the light air that resonated in the club. Everyone's chatting made the evening pleasant, which actually seemed to go too well

Hamburg was huge as a city, Ness himself recognized it, yet he had lived there for a good part of his life before moving to Berlin on the campus of Bastard Munchen. You had been here a few other times, and you had fallen in love with the small and cute clubs that the city offered

When you returned to the hotel room with Kaiser you had begged him to go out tonight, since you had arrived you had spent all your time at training or at the match, which had ended with the victory of the German team. And Kaiser has little chance of telling you no, it's something he just can't do: so, a few hours later, you and other team members found yourself in a club celebrating the victory. Sitting next to him you were calm, after all he was your boyfriend and his team knew about you two, unlike the rest of the world. However, being in a public place the only affectionate gesture you could allow yourself was his hand on your thigh, covered by the table and which no stranger could see

Everything was going well: Bastard Munchen had won today, tomorrow morning you would return home and take a few days break from being the team manager. Everything was perfect

But obviously perfection, even if sweated with difficulty and attention, does not last long

You were chatting with a team member when, from afar, you noticed a group of guys watching you. It was nothing new, the players were famous and you were also quite well known thanks to your role in the team. Kaiser notices the same thing, tilting his face towards the small crowd "You're wanted" you say jokingly, and he snorts in a mock annoyed way: you know how much he actually loves this attention from fans, which feeds his big ego. The guys step forward, followed by others and yet others, until the table is surrounded by all the guys shyly asking for an autograph or a photo

The group, made up of a girl and two boys, approaches Kaiser asking to take a photo. He accepts, reluctantly lifting the contact of his hand on your thigh, and you can read his slight annoyance in his cerulean eyes. You giggle a little at seeing him annoyed, but you don't let it show

Then, the dinner that was supposed to be quiet and a way to spend time with your boyfriend turns out to be yet another time when public life comes before private life; it doesn't make you sad though, because seeing Kaiser happy while talking to his fans makes you happy too

You stay to eat your chips and chat with Ness, who unlike Kaiser only had to sign a few quick autographs, and every now and then you glance at Kaiser who stayed behind to talk to the group of people. You notice how completely comfortable he seems, so you don't worry

But then something reaches your ear

"We are moving to another club to spend the rest of the night, would you join us?" a boy says, and the rest of the group nods. Kaiser is used to these somewhat sudden questions, fans often cross the line almost without wanting to "I can't guys. The team is celebrating together tonight" he says playing with a lock of his blue hair, and you try to be indiscreet in listening to the conversation

"What a shame..." says a boy, and Kaiser chuckles "I know guys. Maybe next time" he says, and he seems about to go back to the table, when the girl stops him by taking a few steps forward "Or maybe there's is it a girl you're waiting for?" the woman asks, and you immediately turn towards their direction, trying not to cough up what's in your mouth for the surprise

You see Kaiser a little perplexed, you notice it from the way he tilts his head trying to come up with an excuse that seems convincing "Maybe. But I shouldn't tell you, guys" he says, and this time you're the one who's perplexed

You see him turn towards you, just enough to give you a brief wink that you notice all too well. You pretend like you didn't see him, turning away, but you really don't understand where he's going with his speech. You've been together for quite a while and it's always been confidential for a matter of convenience, being nonpublic you had many pros but at the same time many cons. And at the time you had never talked about making it public, as much as you actually wanted to be like this

"Really? Are you in a relationship?" the boy asks, and Kaiser smiles satisfied "I don't know. Do you think I have it?" he asks, and everyone immediately nods "There are rumors that you are dating the German model who is always on the front page of Vogue" says one, but the other corrects him "What are you saying! He could be dating the girl he was spotted with last week passed in front of the city's cathedral" says the other, and you see in Kaiser's gaze an amusement you've never seen before. You nervously bite your nail, not knowing what he's doing and above all why he didn't complete the conversion a few minutes ago. What the fuck is going on?

"You're both wrong! The rumors all agree that he's dating the manager of Bastard Munchen, have you seen how they look at each other? Or how she's always the first one he greets when the players take the field?" says the girl very convinced, placing her hands on her waist

It is at that moment when all your beliefs fall away. You thought you hadn't made the situation so obvious, but evidently you failed

You turn towards them again, trying to hide the blush that you now know has taken up residence on your cheeks. Kaiser claps his hands happily "Right! I'm waiting for her" he says, and everyone in the group's jaw drops "Are you serious? Are you seriously with the manager?" the boy asks, and he nods. You notice too late how the girl, peeking out from Kaiser's figure, has noticed you: you hide your face by looking down, but it's too late now

"But she's here!" the girl says, and Kaiser rolls his eyes as if he hadn't noticed you “I know. My girlfriend, yu-hu Y/n!” he says, raising his hand to greet you as if he hadn't just dropped a bombshell on a mere group of fans. You raise your face trying to look as calm as possible, as if everything is actually normal and your heart isn't going 100 times faster than normal. Kaiser comes closer, sitting next to you again and putting his arm around your shoulders, while the group looks at you surprised but happy "I don't like to keep my girlfriend waiting, guys. Have a good evening though!" he says, cuddling while you are literally trying not to start screaming

The guys nod, both saying goodbye and thanking Kaiser for his time. When they leave, you turn to him with the reddest face ever "What did you just do?!" you ask in surprise, but with his free hand he caresses your arm, making slow and gentle movements "Doing what I should have done a long time ago. Isn't it better this way, Schatz?" he asks. You suppress the urge to insult him, because the truth is, you too would have liked to make it official a long time ago

“Do you know that now you will have to confirm this to the whole world and not just to one group?” you ask with a sigh, relaxing the nerves that have been on edge for minutes. He smirks, nodding as he grabs his phone “I've had a post ready on Instagram for a while. It's been in the drafts for a long time, how about I post it now?” he asks, and you curse yourself for never being able to be mad at him

You both had each other's fingers tied, it was too obvious by now. Maybe it really was time to share your love with the world and not just with the team, as it has been until now

[coquelicoq]

i've decided to archive this on ao3. if anyone who speaks chinese would be willing to read this post (& a few other spoilery and explanatory tidbits that are not in the tumblr post) and point out any typos or places where i've misinterpreted something, i would be very grateful! according to my draft on ao3, it is 4.6k words. the majority of it is in the post above, and i would dm you the parts that are not. familiarity with the double is not necessary, though if you want to watch it and haven't yet, be warned that there will be spoilers. please reply to this post if you're interested and i will dm you <3

Jiang Li's family tree and familial terms of address in The Double

I'm making this guide for my own reference because there were several family relationships in The Double that I misinterpreted at first based on how they were translated in the English subs, so I've gone back and compared to the Chinese subs. I'm also hoping it will be helpful to people wanting to write fic in English! What little I know about Chinese terms of address has largely been gleaned from other tumblr users' posts predating this show, and I'll link to my sources.

The only significant potential spoiler is some basic biographical information about Jiang Li’s older sibling, who is not directly mentioned until episode 26 but whose existence can be inferred from the fact that Jiang Li is referred to as Second Lady Jiang.

I am basing all of this solely on the drama, not the novel it was adapted from.

Apologies in advance for any inconsistencies in the pinyin punctuation (hyphen vs. apostrophe vs. space vs. smooshed together); it varies widely across sources and I don't think I have a clear enough understanding of the nuances to be confident I'm being consistent in applying the conventions, but I'm including the hanzi as well as an English translation (if the translation is in quotation marks it’s from the subs, usually Viki but not always). Also apologies if I messed up any of the hanzi. I welcome corrections and insights from those with more knowledge!!

I'm referring to Jiang Li in the present tense here for convenience, but since she's dead for the majority of the show, when I say "Jiang Li calls so-and-so xyz," of course it's almost always actually Xue Fangfei acting as Jiang Li who's doing that.

Each image is of that character's first appearance, when the hanzi for their name is given. The hanzi and any other caption are transcribed in alt text.

Jiang Li

Jiang Li (姜梨), aka Jiang Ruoyu (姜若雨), is the second child and second daughter of Jiang Yuanbai. She’s his only child with his first wife, Ye Zhenzhen.

According to this title card, her given name is Ruoyu and her courtesy name is A'Li (阿梨). This means that in this universe, people are given courtesy names in childhood rather than upon maturity. No one ever calls her or refers to her as Ruoyu that I noticed.

She is 18 or thereabouts (she was sent away from the family 10 years ago at age 8) when she dies at the beginning of the series.

She was accused of fratricide and attempted matricide at age 8 when she was blamed for her stepmother's miscarriage.

Sometimes in the subs she's referred to as the eldest daughter or the firstborn. For instance, when Ji Shuran says in episode 7 梨儿终究是我家嫡女, the Viki subs give "Li'er is the firstborn." Another example is in episode 5; someone in the crowd at Jiang Ruoyao's coming-of-age ceremony refers to Jiang Li as Jiang Yuanbai's 嫡长之女, which Viki translates as "eldest daughter". I think this might be a mistranslation. The character 嫡, di, means "legal wife" or "child of legal wife" and also is one of the characters in the title of the novel The Double was based on, 嫡嫁千金 (Marriage of the Di Daughter). (The other relevant character in the above examples is 女, nü, meaning daughter.) She's not the eldest daughter, but she is the eldest legitimate daughter (born to a legal wife rather than a concubine). In episode 6, Jiang Li refers to herself as 嫡女, and that time it's translated as "legitimate daughter" (Jiang Ruoyao also refers to herself as the same thing in episode 26, and it's "legitimate daughter" there as well). In episodes 26 and 32, Jiang Li is referred to as 姜家的嫡娘子, translated as "legitimate daughter of the Jiang family".

As the second daughter of a noble family, she is referred to outside the family as Jiang-er'niangzi (姜二娘子, “Second Lady Jiang”, or sometimes translated as "Miss Jiang"). Family servants call her niangzi or er’niangzi (translated in direct address as "My Lady" or "Miss Jiang"). (Note that Tong'er calls Jiang Li niangzi but tends to call Xue Fangfei jiejie (姐姐, older sister) when they're alone.)

Her younger sister Jiang Ruoyao and younger cousin Jiang Yu'e call her er'jie (二姐, older sister, second in the birth order; subs translate this as "Second Sister" or, more often, “Li” even though they’re not actually using her name at all) or er'jiejie. Her younger brother Jiang Bingji calls her jiejie; Jiang Ruoyao also sometimes calls her jiejie.

People in her family who are older than her call her A'Li (阿梨]) or Li'er (梨儿). A'Li, according to her title card, is her courtesy name, but "A" and "er" are also affectionate/familiar prefixes often used in families. Most people who call her one of these things (including Xue Fangfei, her paternal family, her mother, and her mom’s friend Liu-furen) call her Li’er, while her maternal family (other than her mother) tends to call her A’Li.

Her paternal grandmother calls her Li'er, haizi (孩子, child), and er’yatou (二丫头, literally second girl). The latter two are generally given in the subs as Li or Li’er.

Her aunt (her father’s younger brother’s wife) calls her wo de hao zhinü (我的好侄女, “my dear niece”) at one point when she's feeling particularly appreciative.

Her older maternal cousin Ye Shijie calls her/refers to her as Jiang Li initially, then as they become closer starts calling her both Li’er and A’Li, though I noticed him using Li’er more often. He also calls her biaomei (表妹, younger female maternal cousin, maternal meaning you're related through your mother and/or her mother; in this case, Jiang Li's mother is his father's sister), as does her other maternal cousin, Ye Jia'er.

Her older paternal cousin Jiang Jingrui calls her Jiang Li. As they become closer, he starts calling her A’Li or Li’er.

Her school friend Liu Xu calls her Jiang Li in the earlier episodes and A'Li as they become closer.

She refers to herself (that is, Xue Fangfei refers to Jiang Li and/or herself-as-Jiang-Li) as Li’er or A'Li.

Note that while some people close to Jiang Li call her A'Li (阿梨), when Su-guogong calls (Xue Fangfei as) Jiang Li A'Li, the Chinese subs use 阿狸 (different "li" character). They are pronounced identically, but the latter is the way that Xue Fangfei’s given name, Xue Li, is written (薛狸).

Paternal family (Jiang jia 姜家)

Parents

Jiang Yuanbai (姜元柏) is the current head of the noble Jiang family and a high-ranking minister in the imperial court.

His title is Jiang-xiangguo 姜相国, translated as "Grand Chancellor" or "Secretariat Director", depending on the subs.

Xiangguo is a more general honorific that is used for some other ministers as well. His position more specifically seems to be zhongshuling (中书令, “Secretariat Director” or “Chief Secretary”) and taishi (太师, “Grand Preceptor”).

The emperor calls him (and other officials) qing (卿, noble, minister). He also refers to him at least once as laoshi (老师, teacher).

Servants call him zhujun (主君, translated as “my lord” in direct address and "master" in reference).

Jiang Li calls him fuqin (父亲, formal term for "father"). I don't think Xue-Fangfei-as-Jiang-Li ever calls him die (爹, less formal term for "father") at any point, but he refers to himself as diedie a couple times.

His brothers call him da’ge (大哥, older brother, first in the birth order). His sister-in-law (Jiang Yuanping's wife) also calls him da'ge.

Jiang Jingrui and Jiang Yu'e call him da’bofu (大伯父, father’s older brother, first in the birth order, "Uncle") or just bofu.

Hi wife Ji Shuran calls him fujun (夫君, husband).

Ye Shijie calls him Jiang-bofu (“Uncle Jiang”) a couple times in the late episodes.

He and his brothers share a generation name (one shared character in the given name of each descendant of the same generation), 元, yuan. However, they don’t appear to have continued the tradition in the next generation, because Jiang Jingrui's and Jiang Bingji's names don't share a character. At first I thought at least the girls' names shared a character, because Jiang Li (whose given name is Ruoyu) and her sister Ruoyao both have 若, Ruo, but their older sister and their uncle’s daughter don’t have that character in their names.

Ye Zhenzhen (叶珍珍) was Jiang Li's mother.

She died when Jiang Li was a baby, at least six months after giving birth.

She was Jiang Yuanbai's furen (夫人), his official wife (as opposed to a concubine).

When Jiang Li talks about her, she refers to her as a'niang (阿娘, mother) or shengmu (生母, birth mother).

Xue Fangfei addresses her as Ye-furen in her head/when praying to her.

Her younger brother Ye Mingyu calls her Zhenzhen-jie (珍珍姐).

Ji Shuran (季淑然) is Jiang Li's stepmother.

She is Jiang Yuanbai's current furen. Jiang Yuanbai married her after Ye Zhenzhen died.

She's over 30 and probably under 40.

She's the mother of Jiang Ruoyao and Jiang Bingji, who call her niang. Jiang Ruoyao sometimes calls her or refers to her as muqin (母亲, formal term for "mother").

She's referred to as Jiang-furen (姜夫人, “Madam Jiang”) by those outside the family (women keep their own surname when they get married, but when honorifics are used, they're attached to the husband's surname). At one point she refers to herself as Jiang jia de zhumu (姜家的主母, "madam of the Jiang family").

Her husband and the family servants call her furen.

Jiang Li calls her muqin. In flashbacks, young Jiang Li calls her niang. She’s sometimes referred to as Jiang Li’s houmu (后母, stepmother).

Consort Li, her younger sister, calls her jiejie.

The Marquis of Ningyuan calls her xiangguo-furen (xiangguo being her husband’s court honorific).

Jiang Jingrui calls her da’bomu (大伯母, wife of da’bofu) and sometimes refers to her as Ji Shuran when talking about her to Jiang Li. Jiang Yu'e calls her bomu ("Auntie Shuran").

Jiang Yuanping, her husband's younger brother, calls her saozi (嫂子, sister-in-law). Jiang Yuanxing, her husband's other younger brother, refers to her as da’sao (大嫂, “Eldest Sister-in-law”).

Before her marriage, as the eldest child/daughter of the Ji family, she was called Ji-da’niangzi.

Paternal grandparents

Jiang Yuanbai's mother is referred to as Jiang-lao'furen (姜老夫人, "old Madam Jiang").

She was Jiang Yuanbai’s father's furen. Her husband also had at least one concubine.

Jiang Li and her siblings and paternal cousins call her zumu (祖母, father's mother, "Grandmother").

Her two biological sons and Jiang Yuanxing, her husband's son from a concubine, call her muqin. Jiang Yuanxing’s wife also calls her muqin.

Members of her household, including servants and her daughters-in-law, refer to her as lao’furen (“Old Madam”). Her daughter-in-law Ji Shuran also addresses her as lao’furen (translated as “Madam Jiang”).

[Not pictured because he never appears onscreen] Jiang Yuanbai's father, who's deceased, is referred to a few times.

Tong’er refers to him as Jiang-lao’taigong (姜老太公, “Old Master Jiang”).

Jiang Li refers to him as zufu (祖父, “Grandfather”).

His widow refers to him as taigong (太公, grandfather, “Old Master Jiang”). She addresses him as lao’Jiang at one point.

Paternal aunts and uncles

Jiang Yuanping (姜元平) is Jiang Yuanbai's younger brother from the same mother and father.

Jiang Li calls him er'shu (二叔, father’s younger brother, second in the birth order; “ Second Uncle Jiang”).

His son Jiang Jingrui calls him die (爹, "Father").

Jiang Yuanping’s wife's surname is Lu (卢).

Jiang Li calls her er'shumu (二叔母, wife of er'shu; “Second Auntie Lu”). Interestingly, all the tumblr guides I’ve seen say the wife of your father’s younger brother would be shenmu, not shumu, but she is clearly saying shu according to the subs, and shumu is in the dictionary.

Her husband Jiang Yuanping calls her furen (translated as "My Lady" or "my dear").

Her son JIang Jingrui calls her niang ("Mother").

Jiang Yuanxing (姜元兴) is Jiang Yuanbai's younger half-brother; they have the same dad, but his mom was their dad's concubine.

Jiang Li calls him san'shu (三叔, father’s younger brother, third in the birth order; “Third Uncle Jiang”).

His daughter Jiang Yu’e calls him die and fuqin.

His eldest brother Jiang Yuanbai calls him Yuanxing and refers to him as Yuanxing and san’di (third younger brother).

He calls himself (and other people call him) shuzi (庶子, bastard, translated as "concubine's son").

A servant calls him 主家 (zhu jia, “Master”).

There’s at least one instance in which he’s referred to outside the family as Jiang jia lao'san (姜家老三, “Third Master Jiang”).

Jiang Yuanxing’s wife's surname is Yang (杨).

Jiang Lu calls her san'shumu (三叔母, wife of san'shu; “Third Auntie Yang”).

Her husband Jiang Yuanxing calls her gunainai (姑奶奶, aunt, translated as “my dear”).

Her daughter Jiang Yu’e calls her niang and muqin.

Her husband’s older brother refers to her as san’mei (三妹, third younger sister; in context, he’s talking about both her and her husband and says “san’di san’mei”, translated as “Yuanxing and his wife”).

Siblings

Jiang Yue (姜月) is Jiang Yuanbai’s oldest child and Jiang Li’s older sister. She was born to a maid (so, not the furen). This means that while she is the oldest child, she's not the oldest "legitimate" child.

She’s not directly mentioned until episode 26, so I won’t say anything else about her, to avoid spoilers.

Jiang Ruoyao (姜若瑶) is Ji Shuran's oldest child, Jiang Li's younger sister, and the third child and third daughter of Jiang Yuanbai.

She can't be much younger than Jiang Li, possibly two years younger at most would be my guess? I can't remember if they ever say her age. She has a coming of age ceremony in one of the early episodes.

Her parents call her Yao’er.

Her older sister Jiang Li calls her san'mei (三妹, literally "third younger sister", which refers to her position in the birth order as the third daughter of the Jiang family, rather than meaning that she's the third youngest of Jiang Li's younger sisters (Jiang Li only has one younger sister), translated as "Third Sister").

Her younger paternal cousin Jiang Yu’e calls her san’jie (三姐, older sister, third in the birth order, translated as “Third Sister”).

Her paternal grandmother calls her Ruoyao and san’yatou (三丫头, literally "third girl").

Those outside the family call her Jiang-san'niangzi (姜三娘子, “Third Lady Jiang”). Family servants call her niangzi or san’niangzi.

Jiang Bingji (姜丙吉) is Ji Shuran's second child, Jiang Li's younger brother, and the fourth child and only son of Jiang Yuanbai.

He was born after Ji Shuran’s miscarriage (source: he refers to the fetus as gege (哥哥, older brother), meaning it would have been born before him). This means he’s less than 10 years old, since the miscarriage/Jiang Li’s exile was 10 years ago.

Jiang Li doesn't have a lot of interaction with him, but in his intro she calls him didi (弟弟, little brother).

His parents call him Bingji and his paternal grandmother calls him Bingji or xiao’Bingji (小, xiao, is a diminutive meaning "young" or "small").

Family servants call him xiao'gongzi (小公子, "Young Master").

Paternal cousins

Jiang Jingrui (姜景睿) is Jiang Yuanping's son.

Xue Fangfei calls him tangxiong (堂兄, older paternal male cousin, i.e., son of father’s brother, older than her) the first time they meet, which causes him to accuse her of not being Jiang Li because it's too formal. Jiang Yu’e also calls him tangxiong.

Jiang Li's childhood nickname for him was xiao'Ruirui (小睿睿). In the present she mostly calls him Jiang Jingrui.

His parents call him Rui’er.

Liu Xu refers to him as Jiang Li’s gege (哥哥, older brother). He refers to himself as gege when telling Jiang Li to listen to him.

Those outside the family call him Jiang-gongzi (姜公子, “Mr. Jiang”). Tong’er calls him da’langjun (大郎君, “Young Master”).

Jiang Yu'e (姜玉娥) is Jiang Yuanxing's daughter.

She has a lower position in the family because her dad's mom was not the furen but a concubine.

Her parents call her nü’er (女儿, daughter) and Yu’e.

Her paternal grandmother refers to her as si’yatou (四丫头, literally "fourth girl") and Yu’e.

She and Jiang Li refer to each other (and others refer to them) as sisters (Jiang Li calls her si'mei (四妹, younger sister, fourth in the birth order, "Fourth Sister") and she calls Jiang Li er'jie), but they're actually cousins; their dads are brothers.

Jiang Jingrui also calls her si’mei.

As the fourth daughter of the Jiang family (though again, not the fourth daughter of Jiang Yuanbei; she's the fourth girl born to the previous generation of Jiang sons), I think prior to her marriage she would be addressed by those outside the family as Jiang-si’niangzi (姜四娘子, “Fourth Lady Jiang”), but I can't remember if we see any examples of this.

After she gets married, servants call her furen or niangzi.

Jiang family servants

Tong’er (桐儿) is Jiang Li’s maid.

Sun-mama (孙妈妈, “senior maidservant Sun” or "Madam Sun") is Ji Shuran’s maid.

Ji Shuran calls her Jindai (锦黛) at least once. Perhaps this is her given name?

[Not pictured because I never saw a title card for her] Zhang-popo (张婆婆, “maidservant Zhang”) is Jiang-lao’furen’s maid.

[Not pictured because I never saw a title card for her] Jinhua (金花) is Jiang Ruoyao’s maid.

Maternal family (Ye jia 叶家)

Maternal grandmother

Ye Zhenzhen’s mother is referred to as Ye-lao’furen (叶老夫人, “Old Madam Ye” or “Old Mrs. Ye”).

Jiang Li calls her wai’zumu (外祖母, mother’s mother, “Grandmother”).

Ye Jia’er calls her zumu (祖母, father's mother, "Grandmother").

Her son Ye Mingxuan refers to her as lao’furen and calls her muqin.

Her son Ye Mingyu calls her and refers to her as niang.

Her daughter-in-law, Ye Mingxuan's wife, refers to her as lao’taitai (老太太, literally “old lady”, translated as “Old Madam”).

Maternal aunts and uncles

[Not pictured because he never appears onscreen] Ye Zhenzhen's oldest brother, who is deceased, is mentioned, though not by name. He is Ye Shijie's father.

Since his brothers share the first character in their names (明, ming), it seems like they might have a generation name, so it’s likely his name also began with that character.

His younger brother Ye Mingyu refers to him and his wife as da’ge da’sao (大哥大嫂, oldest brother and wife of oldest brother, translated as “my brother and his wife”).

Ye Mingxuan (叶明轩) is Ye Zhenzhen's brother, the second oldest son in the family.

Ye Mingxuan’s older brother and father are dead, making him the current head of the family.

Jiang Li calls him er'jiu (二舅, mother’s brother, second in the birth order, translated as "Second Uncle").

It’s unclear if he’s Ye Zhenzhen’s older or younger brother. It's impossible to tell from what Jiang Li calls him, because the term for a mother’s brother is the same whether the brother is older or younger than the mother (舅, jiu). I don’t think there are any flashbacks in which Ye Zhenzhen talks to or about him. And we can infer that the birth order terms used for the men in this family do not include the women, because we know Ye Mingyu, who is referred to as third uncle and so must be the third son, actually must be the fourth child overall (assuming there aren't any other Ye daughters), because Ye Zhenzhen calls him younger brother, which means he has three older siblings (the two sons who are older than him, plus Ye Zhenzhen). So we know that Ye Mingxuan is second in the birth order of sons specifically, but he could have one or more older sisters as well.

His wife calls him er’lang (二郎; er is “two” or “second” and lang is “young man” or “husband” (the “second” refers to his birth order, not to him being her second husband; presumably he’s her only husband); translated as “Mingxuan”).

His daughter Ye Jia'er calls him die.

His younger brother Ye Mingyu calls him er’ge (二哥, second older brother, translated as "Mingxuan").

Ye Shijie refers to him as er'shu (二叔, father's younger brother, second in the birth order).

Family servants and the clerk in the family shop refer to him as zhuren (主人, “Master Ye”).

Ye Mingxuan's wife’s surname is Zhuo (卓).

Jiang Li calls her er’jiumu (二舅母, wife of er’jiu).

Her husband calls her furen (夫人, translated as “my dear” or “darling”).

Family servants call her furen or er’furen (夫人, "Madam").

Governor Tong calls her furen (夫人, "Madam").

Her husband’s younger brother Ye Mingyu refers to her as er’sao (二嫂, wife of er'ge).

Her daughter Ye Jia’er calls her niang.

Ye Mingyu (叶明煜) is Ye Zhenzhen's younger brother, the third oldest son in the family.

Jiang Li calls him san'jiu (三舅, mother’s brother, third in the birth order, translated as "Third Uncle").

In his flashback of Ye Zhenzhen getting married, she calls him san’di (三弟, third younger brother, meaning younger brother who’s the third son; it doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s the third of her younger brothers. She does have three brothers, but it’s possible one or both of the other two are older than her; see above).

His older brother Ye Mingxuan calls him san’di (三弟, third younger brother, translated as “Mingyu”) and Ye-lao’san (叶老三, lao as in old, san as in three; translated as “Mingyu”) when he’s being annoying.

His older brother’s wife calls him san’di.

His mother calls him erzi (儿子, son).

Ye Jia’er calls him san’shu (三叔, father’s younger brother, third in the birth order).

Jiang Jingrui calls him san’jiu. Jiang Jingrui is not actually related to him, but san’jiu is what Jiang Jingrui’s paternal cousin Jiang Li calls him.

The clerk in his family’s store calls him san’lang (三郎, “Third Master”).

Official Zhu calls him Ye-lao’ban (叶老板).

Maternal cousins

Ye Shengxuan (叶圣宣), courtesy name Shijie (世杰), is the son of the oldest (now deceased) son of the previous generation of the Ye family.

Jiang Li calls him biaoge (表哥, older male maternal cousin) and refers to him as Ye-biaoge. At one point after they know each other very well, he refers to himself as Jiang Li’s gege (older brother), and she calls him ge. Jiang Jingrui refers to him as Jiang Li’s biaoxiong (表兄, another term for an older male maternal cousin) at least once.

Jiang Yuanbai says that Jiang Li and Ye Shijie are around the same age and refers to them as xiongmei (兄妹, brother and sister), which Viki translates as “cousins”.

Jiang Jingrui calls him Shijie, or (similar to how he calls Ye Mingyu san'jiu because that's what Jiang Li calls him) Ye-biaoge or just biaoge (表哥).

Ye Jia’er calls him tangge (堂哥, older male paternal cousin, translated as “Shijie”).

His aunt, Ye Mingxuan’s wife, refers to him as Shijie. So does his uncle Jiang Yuanbai (his father’s sister’s husband).

A family servant calls him da’langjun (大郎君), translated by Viki as “Young Master”.

Social inferiors or people who are being polite call him Ye-gongzi (叶公子) or Ye-langjun (叶郎君), both translated as “Mr. Ye”.

His classmate Liu Xu calls him Ye-langjun. Some other students call him Ye-xiong (叶兄, brother Ye).

After he’s appointed a position in court, a palace servant calls him Ye-yuanwai (叶员外), translated by Viki as "Mr. Ye". Ji Shuran also calls him Ye-yuanwai, translated as “Official Ye”.

Ye Jia’er (叶嘉儿) is Ye Mingxuan's daughter.

Jiang Li calls her/refers to her as biaojie (表姐, term for an older female cousin when you’re related through one or both of your mothers), Jia’er-biaojie (嘉儿表姐), or Jia'er-jie (嘉儿姐; the “er” is part of her given name, rather than the “er” meaning “second”).

Her parents and her uncle Ye Mingyu call her Jia'er.

The clerk in the family store calls her Jia’er-niangzi (嘉儿娘子). This is also what Tong'er calls her.

Family servant A'Fu calls her Jia'er-jie. Other family servants call her niangzi.

Ye family servants and employees

[Not pictured because I didn't see a title card for her] Li-mama (李妈妈, “Madam Li”) is Ye-furen's maid.

[Not pictured because I didn't see a title card for him] A'Fu (阿福) is a servant in Ye Mingxuan's household.

[Not pictured because I didn't see a title card for him] A'Shun (阿顺) is Ye Mingyu's servant.

[Not pictured because I didn't see a title card for him] The clerk at the family shop is called Qian-zhanggui (钱掌柜, shopkeeper Qian, “Mr. Qian”).

[thinkinonsense]

Bewitched

˖⋆࿐໋ james logan howlett ✦ bridgerton au series

bewitched masterlist

cw: 1800s mentality on marriage and women, pinning, bickering, enemies to lovers

pairing: viscount!logan howlett x fem!reader

a/n: as of right now, i'm not sure how long this series will be but i'm so excited for it! i tried to make the reader as universal as possible but i did have to give her some sort of last name, so if that isn't your thing, you can always change it to fit. after the set up, i'll probably drop the last name.

bridgerton lore: ton (high society), debuting (when you begin dating/looking for a partner), spinster (an unmarried woman)

main masterlist

in early june, everyone returned back to england for this season and whispers of a french woman joining the ton spread around. one morning at breakfast, marie howlett was reading one of the gossip columns aloud to her family when her eldest brother, james walked into join them at the table.

"it says she's staying with her aunt, lady worthington. she is four and twenty and the only child. her passions are literature and painting. apparently, the queen has one of her paintings in her home..."

"she sounds lovely. doesn't she, james?" their mother said, hoping her boy was listening.

"she's a spinster." he says, eating some of the fruit on the table. "that's not viscountess material."

"the queen seems to find her to be diamond material." marie jabs.

james has never fallen for one of the diamonds. sure, their beauty is prominent and sometimes they can hold an intellectual conversation but for the most part they are simply shoved forward so the queen can take credit for their marriage.

"i have more important priorities this season."

"well, this season you should prioritize finding a viscountess." their mother bit at him.

during this time every year his mother gives james the same speech over and over again. the marriage speech. ever since his father died during battle, james has been plagued with not only his grief but also the weight of replacing his father and eventually having to find a replacement for his mother as well. instead of focusing on marriage, james kept himself busy either working or traveling and keeping his family afloat.

"mama, i promise i will find a wife at some point." james sighs. "i just haven't met anyone that can handle being my viscountess."

"what about the red headed girl from last season? you seemed to fancy her quite a bit."

"she married lord summers this past spring."

"and the munroe girl?"

"she's interested in mister brooks."

all his mother does is sigh in response to the news. he takes this as the perfect chance to escape the interrogation.

luckily for james, there was always an excuse to avoid marriage. in the past he's gotten close to making that walk down the aisle but something always held him back. he's never believed much in love or marriage past it's convenience. sure, he believed it was the blueprint of life, to take a wife and start a family but his marriage is seen as a much bigger deal.

all the mamas in the ton were practically throwing their daughters in his direction. at balls, he's always forcing marie to dance with him because if not, he will be forced to socialize with these young unintellectual girls who only value him for his money and title. james didn't want to have to nurture these girls. he would take care of his wife but he wanted someone who was independent from him.

ever since his father died in the war, james has always been guarded of his feelings. especially, when it came to love. when he went with his mother to identify his father's body, james swore on that day that he would never let love destroy him like it did his mother.

"remember, marie is debuting tonight at the first ball of the season." his mother called after him. "don't be late."

"i wouldn't miss it." he smiles at his little sister before dashing out the door and back to his study.

˖⋆࿐໋

a rainbow of silks are spread across your bed as you try to figure out what to wear tonight. if your mother was here, she would know exactly what would look best on you. it's only been three months since her passing yet the ache in your chest grows stronger day by day.

"what are you thinking of wearing tonight?" your aunt asks, lingering in the doorway.

"i'm not sure yet." you sigh, picking at the pretty gowns. "i like the light blue one."

arguably, it was the prettiest in the pile. so simple, you hoped to blend in among the wash of colors in the room tonight. the boning of the corset poked the left side of your ribs a little but beauty is pain.

as you got ready, the nerves started to kick in. by now you should be on your second or third child and pregnant with the next. why was love taking so long to find you?

ever since you were a little girl, you were a hopeless romantic. dreaming of your first kiss and getting married to your knight in shining armor. back home, there was a cruel joke that you were the girl before the wife. you get just close enough before they end it. afraid that the curse would travel with you.

"don't worry." you aunt hums, brushing your hair. "the queen picked you as her diamond for a reason."

"i know, i know." you nod, avoiding your reflection in the mirror. "i just wish mother was here with me."

"i do too, dear."

"she should've seen me married."

a small tear rolls down your pink painted cheeks. it feels like you let her down by not taking a husband before her illness got worse.

men have it so easy. there's no pressure from society put on them. you can marry at fifty to a nineteen year old if you so please because you know that they will marry you out of fear and desperation.

"who says she can't?" your aunts smile reflected in the mirror. "she's still looking down on you, probably working on sending you a lord or a duke for a husband as we speak."

"amusing." you giggle.

"imagine a viscount or a prince!"

both of you laugh at the possibility. viscounts and princes were usually swept up quickly in high society. all of them probably have pregnant wives by now.

"don't get too ahead of yourself."

˖⋆࿐໋

the queens ball was unlike anything you had ever seen. beautiful gardens, bright lights, and people gathered everywhere. inside the ballroom, the chandelier lights almost blind you.

like a hawk, lady chamberlain spots you two. she is an older lady and a close family friend. you haven't seen her since you were a little girl, surprised that she was able to recognize you.

"lady worthington and miss bowery, lovely to see you here!" the woman smiled, wrapping her arms around both of you.

"hello, lady chamberlain." you smile, feeling slightly at ease seeing a familiar face here.

"you look marvelous, sweetie." she smiles, taking in your appearance. at least someone appreciated all the bells and whistles that went into your dress for this evening. "truly like a diamond."

"thank you." you curtsy. a warm rose color rises to the surface of your cheeks at her compliment.

"let's go find that viscount i've told your aunt about." she says.

suddenly, she's pulling you and your aunt over to meet everyone.

quite some time has passed and yet you've only met barton's and a few lords. from one eligible bachelor to the next, it was the same process. you introduce yourself, dance, ask a bit about each other, jump into talks of marriage and children. it was all a bit overwhelming to say the least.

there's no news on a prince yet but lady chamberlain was holding out for a viscount while your aunt held out for a duke. meanwhile, you just needed someone with charm and charisma to save you from these godawful men of the ton.

"i'm going to get a drink." you announce, one the music ends.

in one of the dim corners of the room there was a refreshment table where you poured a hefty amount of wine into your glass and down as much of it –in a very unlady like manner– as you could before another person could find you.

it wasn't long until someone behind you clears their voice loudly.

"i was unaware that they taught women to drink like soldiers in france..."

you spin around quickly to face the man in front of you. he is gorgeous and... huge. dawned in white puffy shirt and a tight black vest with detailed buttons. he towered over you intimidatingly with a small smirk creeping on his lips from shocked expression.

"i-i deeply apologize, my lord. it was just grape juice." you laugh nervously, avoiding his piercing stare.

"hm..." he hums, lifting his hand up and letting his thumb swiftly glide under your lip to catch the bit of liquid there. you watch in awe as he licks the bit of wine off his thumb with a soft groan. "they must make 'grape juice' different in france."

never in your whole life have you been left so speechless. a gentleman has never done more so than touch your hand, let alone act so scandalous. with a satisfied smirk, the man walks away to join a small group of young women. thank goodness that no one seemed to have noticed.

"miss bowery!" lady chamberlain called after you. "i want you to come meet the howletts."

swiftly, you get back to her as she approach a mother and daughter. both of them were stunningly and wore expensive looking gowns with luxurious jewels. lady chamberlains wide smile only made you grow more anxious.

"meet lady howlett and her daughter, the honorable, marie howlett." lady chamberlain introduced.

"lovely to meet you." you say, bowing gracefully before them.

"where is viscount james?" lady chamberlain asks.

"oh! he should be around here somewhere..." the woman looked behind the two of you until she flagged someone down. “there he is!”

the moment that you looked up at the viscount, you feared your heart might explode right then and there. silently pray to the gods above that he won't mention your previous encounter.

"miss bowery, this is my son, viscount james logan howlett." lady howlett announces proudly.

"what a pleasure to meet you, miss bowery." james smirked, trying to get a rise out of you.

"as is it for me, my lord." you curtsy politely, feeling hot under his gaze.

a cloud of lust fogs james mind at the words, my lord fell from your pretty, slightly berry colored lips. the lower his eyes drift from your face, the tighter his trousers get. every exquisite curve is highlighted by the way that the silk fell on your frame, reminding him of the goddesses he had only seen in the finest of paintings.

"might you wish to accompany me to a dance?" he asks, extending his hand to you.

you nod, offering him your gloved hand in return.

the two of you make your way to the dance floor with everyone else. the orchestra begins and you quickly fall in sync with each other.

"how are you enjoying england?" james asks.

"it's quite lovely." you lie.

"better than france?" he questioned with a small tilt of his head.

"no." you giggle softly. "nowhere on earth is better than home."

"i suppose i cannot argue with that."

"have you journed to france?"

"once. when i was younger, i went with my father. he loved france."

"that's why my mother left england. she fell in love with my father when she visited france."

"they must be true romantics."

"oh, most definitely." you smile.

carefully, logan spins you twice. never letting you stumble over your own two feet like most men would.

"i truly am sorry for earlier, my lord. that was completely unacceptable for a–"

"it's alright, sweetheart." the viscount cut you off with a chuckle. "your secret is safe with me."

james looks down to see your big round eyes sparkle up at him with great appreciation. there's a unique feeling blooming deep in his chest that he can't quite put his finger on.

"i heard from some mamas that you are seeking to wed this season." you say, looking elsewhere as the two of you pull apart.

"seeking is such a complex word." he sighs amusingly.

"i imagine it would be difficult to find a future viscountess."

"you have no idea."

all around you, you can see the women openly fawning over the viscount. some fan themselves while other clutch their jewels with either anger at you or lust for him. any of those women would duel to be in your shoes right now.

"do you have a desire to be viscountess?" his question made your heartbeat increase, pounding in your chest.

as a young girl, you watched your family struggle in order to survive so it would be a lie to say that you don't dream of having a title. you have a father back in france to take care of in his elderly age. but love was your main desire. you would marry a sweet common man as long as he loved you.

"i desire to be loved." you tell him.

the answer caught james off guard. the women of the ton had no issue telling him to his face that they want his tittle or money. none of those women actually cared about love.

"well, my darling, you are quite the fool to be seeking out something as pure as love in a place such as this." james says, pulling you so close that you can feel his heartbeat in his chest and his eyes darken.

"don't be so cock-sure, viscount howlett. i am no fool at all." you glare angrily up at him. "i wish you well on your journey to find such a bird-witted viscountess."

the song ends and you are quick to make an exit. hot on your heels, james follows you outside. perhaps you shouldn't have insulted the viscount to his face but you didn't quite care anymore. this night has been a bust and you aren't any closer to marriage then you were before walking in here.

"miss, bowery..." a man calls, capturing your attention. "would you accompany me to a dance?"

based on the man's appearance, he seems even more important that the viscount. he was definitely the opposite of james. this man wore light grey in places where james wore black. this man had a sweet smile where james had a scowl.

"her dance card is full." the voice behind you threatened.

the gentleman's face fell a little.

"actually, i have one last spot open on my dance card." you smile, showing him the tag tied to your right wrist which had exactly one spot open. "i would love to accompany you..."

"prince harrison." he grins.

you hum, offering your hand. the prince leans down and kissed your gloved fingers before sweeping you off to the dance floor again.

james fumed as he watched you walk away with the prince. lady howlett spots her son alone and walks over to him.

“please tell me that you did not scare off this seasons diamond, james.” lady howlett asked in a low whisper.

“i’m gonna call a carriage” he growls, annoyed.

“dear!”

his mother called after him but he couldn’t care to turn around and stay here any longer.

˖⋆࿐໋

on the carriage ride alone, james is stuck with the image of you. your beauty and the pain in your eyes when james called you a fool. oddly enough, james enjoyed the way you bit back at him. he just wishes that he hadn’t offended you.

apparently you must not be that hurt if you accepted a dance from harrison of all people. not because he wanted to court you but because harrison was barely considered a prince and was a poor excuse of a man. never having to lift a finger a day in his life. never knowing a single struggle. the prince was insufferable.

perhaps it was in james best interest to forget about the beautiful woman he met this evening. she is this seasons diamond after all, desired by too many. james wasn't known to chase the things he desired.

──★

tag list: @v3rdee @squishyfruitloop @caswithdasas2021 @espressopatronum454 @brittdead @fake-bleach @blossoming-hotch @hotbisexualmess @imaginecrushes @wh0re4steelblue-eyes @b0nes-n-all @tvdelrey @prettyoatmeal @speedyvoidlove @lunavelha @merrul @bubblegumholland @divinesols @seasonofthenerd @adoredire @gl0wingsl0wtown @imithicwolf @charityjoy22 @sun7lowxr @melsunshine @internetitgirl17 @tsumukei @dolliestprncess @st4rrlighttt @crypticcowboys @mirrorballpalo @princessanglophile @planetxella @battieshroomz @tonyhawkstits @shinyshayminflower @babey-fruit-bat @oraclic @glnnnhaps @criminaly-supernatural @pxrwinkle @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere @tighrenicotine @midnightvitality @loonalockley @notbaldy420 @squishyfruitloop @summer-343 @reidshearts @marii-ren @fictionalmen-dilflover @brisingamenwearer @pedrohoe04 @taextannie @jrihensjd @tumharisakhi @readerofallthingss @etmoisara @paladinshenanigan-blog @hauntedwombateggmug @i-am-not-a-morning-person-83 @zaggprincess2 @atjlovverr @fallingfromjupiter @cards-and-daggers @reidsworld @imsuperbored @golden-ebony @joyfulpeanutsalad @mysticalmarvelousmagpie @thighridinglogan @pieuui @fanficcrow @alsoprettyinpink @rooroen @barbecuetiddy @potato-painter @milfhunter69sstuff @bel20blog @hypermarvellove @modicum-ofnothing @gemofthenight @laureniswolverine @d3ad2you @goldphish @mxtokko @ovohanna24 @i-voluntears @cherrypieyourface @petrichor-incorporation @csigirl3137 @justannie18 @yxtkiwiyxt @maddielovesurmom321 @madscape @mesopotamism @multifandom-boss-bitch @tecolote2755 @ririkacchi @crownofdecit @snow30285 @lenoradarkstriderr @willybillyletsgetsilly @sleepilysworld @mynatureworld @biiolumii @phantombaby @natlovesu @tumharisakhi @lokiswify @saph-cyare @burntsaltsblog @shedobeclownin @itsjuwulia @hazelwebster @cake-and-umbrellas @aureliusbrutus @loving-barnes @valorant-v @annagraceevanss @opheliaas-stuff @louisymomo @midnightvitality @ricespy123 @livingonsillylovesongs