#and while i enjoy meeting up with my famil

[awerzo]

finally going back home on Wednesday!!!! My Ko-Fi shop should go back up soon, and over the next few weeks I might add some new things to it ;)))) Also I'm considering adding doing some quick sketch commissions so look out for that

[pastryleclerc]

je vais t'aimer

requested: yes/no

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader (one shot)

warnings: slow burn smut (the act itself is about two pages long, it's also my first!!), my bad english (and possibly bad writing), language, established bf/gf relationship, some fluff of charles and the reader making music together and being domestic towards the end, lots of text in between the lyrics - please imagine yourself singing in one go, reader is described to have brunette hair and blue eyes, mentions of death and dying, oral (fem and male receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!) but reader is said to be on the pill, cock warming if you squint, also slight breeding kink towards the end, please comment if you find anything else and i'll add it to the list

word count: 4.846 words (with lyrics), 4.352 words (without lyrics)

a/n: hello guys 🥰 finally it's here - my first fic! i truly can't believe that i wrote an almost seven page long one shot but here we are. 🤩 the inspiration for the fic was "je vais t'aimer" by louane from the movie "la famille bélier" (the original was sung by michel sardou) - go and give the song a listen if you can :) i've proofread the text but i'm sure there will be a few mistakes, especially when it comes to grammar and commas, since english is not my first language. also, i feel like the ending is a bit rushed. 😅 feel free to let me know what you think as feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome 🙏 if you can find the symbolism used in this, i'll give you a cookie 🍪 in addition to that there's a hint to one of my favorite shows - leave a comment if you know what it is 😉 (italics = lyrics, brackets = translations) - here we go, i hope you enjoy this :) | *"Tonnerre de Dieu" is an idiom meaning something like "Bloody hell!"

🔎 directions | 🔎 masterlist

The cool summer breeze coming through the window – which was left open after last night’s activities – softly grazed her skin. The warm sunrays that rested upon her eyelids awakened her slowly. It was an early Sunday morning in the Monégasque summer – almost too early for her liking – so she blinked a few times but ultimately decided to close her eyes again, hoping to get a few more hours of sleep. Trying to escape the rising sun she turned towards where she thought her lover would be laying, hoping to snuggle up to him while enjoying the last day of their free weekend. But when she reached out her warm, delicate hands, all she could feel were empty sheets that had started to become cold already, indicating that her boyfriend had been out of their shared bed for a while now. So much for staying in bed.

Slowly Y/N sat up, letting out a yawn while stretching her arms above her head. By doing so, her own sheets slipped down her body, uncovering her very naked breasts. She sighed to herself, memories of the previous night came flashing back shortly, making her miss the brunette boy even more. Her heart yearned for him, thinking about the love and intimacy they shared. So the young woman made it her mission to find her other half. She swung her legs over the edge of their shared bed – her warm feet meeting the cold floor – and walked into her adjacent closet, fishing a fresh pair of panties out of the drawer. Forgoing putting on any more clothes, she went back into the bedroom and picked up the shirt her boyfriend wore yesterday and slipped it on. She tried to open the door as silent as possible, already hearing the faint sounds of a piano, and went to the top step of the staircase. From there the young woman could see her boyfriends bare back as he played the keys with his delicate fingers. Y/N noticed how the muscles of his back, moved with the rhythm he created, absolutely mesmerizing her. She couldn’t believe how such a beautiful man was truly hers and decided to watch him a little longer before making her way downstairs with the softest steps she could possibly muster as to not make him aware of her presence.

Charles Leclerc was up early. He didn’t understand why, as it was his weekend off and he had stayed up late the night before – he should be exhausted. Looking to his left, he saw his girlfriend and smiled at her sleeping form. His heart tugged at it’s strings at how filled it was with love for Y/N. His mind remembering the events of the night before. The look in her eyes gave her own love for him away, as he deeply stared into them while making sweet love to her. Their foreheads stuck together as they exchaged words of affection, some more dirty than others. For a second the young racing driver thought about waking the woman beside him up to take care of his now throbbing member but ultimately decided to not disturb her peaceful slumber. The brunette leaned over and gave his girlfriend a soft kiss on the forehead before he slowly, as careful as possible, sat up in bed and let out a yawn. He started to look for his boxers that should have been left somewhere in the room. When the Monégasque had found them he stood up and tip toed to the piece of clothing, which was laying by the bed post, and put it on. Before Charles left the room, he turned around once more and took one last look at the sleeping woman in their shared bed – half smiling at the sight – and made his way downstairs to work on his music.

Long arms snaked around his torso and a kiss was pressed to his neck. „Good morning, mon amour,“ his girlfriend whispered sweetly in his ear. If he didn’t know what music sounded like, he’d probably say this might have been it – the angelic voice of the woman he loved. Charles body automatically leaned back in her arms and he rested his head on her shoulder. „Morning, mon cœur.“ he smirked at her, squinting his eyes while he looked at her. She kissed his stubbly cheek, her left arm moved to lay over his exposed chest: „Why are you awake already? I’ve missed you.“ The older man shook his head slightly and he was able to smell his girlfriends hair: „Couldn’t sleep anymore I guess.“ Y/N hummed in response. „So you decided to leave me all alone and replaced me with your piano?“ She mumbled in her lovers neck and left a hickey. Charles hissed. „You found me after all, didn’t you? How about you join me?“ He slid to the left and patted the now free space on the bench. The woman behind him grinned and wrapped her fragile fingers around his firm chin, turning his head to look up at her. Their eyes met, completely enamoured with one another. Slowly both started to lean in until their lips finally touched for their first official good morning kiss on this early Sunday morning. The drivers hand moved to lay on her neck, deepening the kiss as both of them let out a sigh. He took it as his opportunity to slip his tongue between his girlfriends parted lips, making out with her some more, until she pushed him back slightly by his chin. „I thought you had asked if I wanted to join you?“ Y/N smirked at Charles and got the biggest smile out in response, showing off his beautiful teeth. „That I did!“ His opposite giggled and gave him on last kiss on the cheek.

She moved away from him and sat on the bench to his right hand side. Turning his head to look at her, he asked her: „Would you like to sing for me?“, knowing she had the most beautiful singing voice in the world (but don’t tell George he said that, he’d fight him for his life trying to defend Lewis). Her head now turned to look at him too: „I’d love that. Can I make a wish.“ Charles heart skipped a beat at her question and he stared at her as if she hung the moon, the sun and all of his stars. „You don’t even have to ask, you know I’d fulfill you all your wishes without a second thought.“ The young womans eyes got teary hearing those words from her lover of two years, knowing he loved her as much as she loved him. „Je vais t’aimer, mon beau.“ Her boyfriends wrinkled as his lips spread out into a smile: „Toi aussi, ma belle.“ „No, idiot, the song from ‚La famille Bélier‘.“ She laughed loudly, infecting the other Monégasque with it’s brightness and who soon joined her, shaking his head. „I knew that of course.“ Smirking, Y/N rolled her eyes, knowing full well he didn’t. Charles eyed her from the side and cleared his throat while cracking his knuckles, before his warm fingers touched the cold piano tiles again to form the opening notes oft he 1976 tune.

À faire pâlir tous les Marquis de Sade (To make all the Marquis de Sade pale)

À faire rougir les putains de la rade (To make the whores blush in the harbor)

À faire crier grâce à tous les échos (To be shouted through all the echoes)

À faire trembler les murs de Jéricho (To shake the walls of Jericho)

Je vais t′aimer (I will love you)

Y/N tried not to look at Charles while singing the all too familiar song but she couldn’t help it. He was just so gorgeous. The way his fingers moved across the tiles amazed her, watching his forearms flex while doing so. A simple yet so effective move, which – in a dangerous mix with the obscene lyrics coming out of her mouth - went straight down to her core.

À faire flamber des enfers dans tes yeux (To make hell blaze in your eyes)

À faire jurer tous les tonnerres de Dieu (To make all the thunders of God swear*)

À faire dresser tes seins et tous les Saints (To have your breasts and all the saints raise)

À faire prier et supplier nos mains, je vais t'aimer (To make us pray and beg our hands I will love you)

His cheeks reddened hearing her sing those lewd words which were meant to be for him only at this very moment. Her hand touched his biceps, moving up and down, and it sent cold shivers down his back straight to his dick. He loved sharing such intimate moments with her, just the two of them – sometimes they watched a movie, other times, like today, they made some music together – but as soon as her long fingers moved across his naked skin, he always knew he was gone for and there was only one way this would end. And she knew it too.

Je vais t′aimer comme on ne t'a jamais aimée (I’m going to love you like you’ve never been before)

Je vais t'aimer plus loin que tes rêves ont imaginé (I’m going to love you further than your dreams have imagined)

Je vais t′aimer, je vais t′aimer (I’m going to love you, I’m going to love you)

Je vais t'aimer comme personne n′a osé t'aimer (I will love you like no one has dared to love you)

Je vais t′aimer comme j'aurai tellement aimé être aimé (I will love you as I would have loved to be loved)

Je vais t′aimer, je vais t'aimer (I’m going to love you, I’m going to love you)

The young woman put her head on her boyfriends shoulder while singing, as she moved the hand – which was wrapped around his biceps – to the veins on his forearm and finally landing on his right thigh. Slowly she caressed the exposed skin, making the bulge in his underwear grow. The air between the two lovers became thicker with sexual tension second by second. Charles just really wanted to hear her sweet voice sing but now he was about to hear even better sounds coming out of her mouth and her teasing showed just how close she was to giving him herself all over again. And he loved every bit of it.

À faire vieillir, à faire blanchir la nuit (To age, to whiten the night)

À faire brûler la lumière jusqu'au jour (Burning the light until the day)

À la passion et jusqu′à la folie (To passion and to the point of madness)

Je vais t′aimer, je vais t'aimer d′amour (I will love you, I will love you with love)

À faire cerner, à faire fermer nos yeux (To be identified, to close our eyes)

À faire souffrir, à faire mourir nos corps (To make us suffer, to kill our bodies)

À faire voler nos âmes aux septièmes cieux (To make our bodies fly into seventh heaven)

À se croire morts et faire l'amour encore, je vais t′aimer (To think you’re dead and make love again, I’m going to love you)

The words sung perfectly described the love they shared for one another. They were each other light in the darkness of this world, especially Y/N for Charles. She was his anchor and saving grace whenever he had a bad race and she was there for him through it all – the ups and downs of racing ever since they had been kids, the deaths of his father and Jules, the travelling, the distance, the winning, the losing and everything in between. Everytime they had sex it felt like the very first time. And everytime they finished it felt like they had died and gone to heaven. He was excited to feel this way again and he knew she felt the same way. Their passion for one another almost exceeding the point of madness where they couldn’t go long without seeing, touching and talking to each other and not turning crazy about it. Charles and Y/N burned for each other- their love a blazing flame that never seemed to die – they were the bane of each others existence and the objects of all their desires and wildest dreams. For the last chorus the young woman let all of those feelings out and every word was meant only for her Monégasque lovers ears – the one man she ever wanted to spend her forever and beyond with.

Je vais t'aimer comme on ne t′a jamais aimée (I’m going to love you like you’ve never been loved)

Je vais t'aimer plus loin que tes rêves ont imaginé (I’m going to love you further than your dreams have imagined)

Je vais t'aimer, je vais t′aimer (I’m going to love you, I’m going to love you)

Je vais t′aimer comme personne n'a osé t′aimer (I will love you like no one has dared to love you)

Je vais t'aimer comme j′aurai tellement aimé être aimé (I will love you as I would have loved to be loved)

Je vais t'aimer, je vais t′aimer (I’m going to love you, I’m going to love you)

Charles fingers lingered on the piano, finishing the final note. They stayed silent for a little longer, letting the past few minutes catch up to them, the only sound being heard were their breaths that were in sync with each other – mirroring the rapid beating of their hearts. The woman moved her right hand from her boyfriends thigh and placed it upon his chest. „I love you, mon amour, thank you for letting me share this moment with you,“ she whispered in his ear and left a kiss right below it. The racing driver next to her turned slightly and put his hand on her cheek, his thumb caressing the warm skin. „Anytime again, ma belle.“ His dimples showed due to the soft smile that made it’s way to his face. And also his girlfriend couldn’t help but reach out for him, letting her hand linger on the side of his neck. The two of them knew what was about to happen, so Charles put his arm around Y/Ns waist, pulling her even closer (if that was possible) and their lips radiated towards each other, as if they were two magnets, finally reuniting in a breathtaking kiss.

When they broke apart, Y/N took the initiative and took her sweet time kissing down his body, leaving a few hickeys on the way – from his cheek, to his neck and his abs, until she ended up on her knees in front of the piano, facing Charles‘ crotch. Looking down on his girlfriend, he moaned her name: „Touches moi, s’il te plaît…“ Smirking at that, Y/N let her hands glid up his thigh. „Of course, baby boy, let me take care of you.“ Slowly she caressed his bulge while maintaining eye contact before dropping her head to leave some more kisses on his thighs. Then she moved her hand into his shorts and boxers to free his semi-hard dick. Charles shuddered when her cold fingers touched his warm dick and he bit his lip to keep in the moan he so badly wanted to let out. „Don’t hold back, baby, I wanna hear you. Show me how good I can make you feel.“ The girl encouraged him while stroking his hardening length. „Mon dieu…“, Charles whispered under his breath and threw his head back. At that she smirked and stuck out her tongue in order to lick a long stripe up the underside of her boyfriends dick, sucking on his tip where she left another kiss. The brunette driver locked eyes with his girlfriend who just swallowed his precum and continued to watch her as her mouth wrapped around his length again and went further and further to take him in fully. „Oh.“ His moan spurred her on and she started bobbing her head up and down, as her hand went to massage his balls. Charles so desperately wanted to keep focused on the woman in front of him but he ultimately lost control and fisted his hand in her hair, in order to form a makeshift ponytail and started pushing her head down on his dick harder. „Chérie - I’m gonna…“ His breathy voice got cut off by a groan he couldn’t hold back. As if his girlfriend could sense it, she had moaned on his dick and stroked his thick thighs, silently telling him to come in her mouth. A few seconds later Y/N heard Charles let out an especially loud moan and felt his sweet cum shoot down her throat. The young woman released his dick from her luscious lips with a loud „popp“ and opened her mouth to show Charles that she had swallowed it all. With hazy eyes he smirked down at his girlfriend and wrapped his hand around her chin, his thumb lightly stroking her cheek. „Good girl.“ He leaned down to leave a kiss on her forehead, then helped her stand on her two feet again. „Let me return the favor, amour.“

Charles stood up and deeply stared into his girlfriends eyes while slowly taking steps forward, backing her up into the piano. „Cha…“ Y/Ns voice was desperate and she closed her eyes as he reached out his hands. She waited for his touch, which never came. He closed the lid of the piano, then returned his attention to the smaller woman, his eyes so full of lust for her. His head bent down and he feverishly kissed her which she easily returned, their tongues exploring each others mouths, as if it was the first time they made out. The racing driver put his hands on her butt and softly kneaded the skin there, before leaving a slap on her right ass cheek, making her gasp loudly. „Jump.“ He said with his signature wink. Y/N did as she was told and wrapped her legs around his torso, as he sat her on top of the piano. „You look so good in my shirt. Much better than I ever did, ma jolie.“ His girlfriend giggled and his hands glid along her curves taking them all in. Charles kneeled down until his eyes were lined up with her ankles. He left the lightest kisses up her legs, alternating between the left and right one, while moving his hands up their sides. When his eyes were on the same level as her core he pulled her crotch closer to his face by her hips. „Ahh!“ A squeal left the girls lips as Charles took her by suprise. The latter laughed slighty. „Excuse-moi, Chérie.“ All was forgotten though when he kissed her cunt through her panties before he pulled them down. The excitement rose in his chest and he licked his lips, whereas his girlfriend felt a certain anticipation, wating for him to continue. Moving his face closer to her already dripping core he left a longing kiss on her clit, as his right hand came up to assist him – one of his fingers went in between her folds collecting her juices. „So wet for me already, bébé.“ He then wrapped his lips around his own finger, tasting her. „And so sweet.“ Y/N was in a state of pure bliss already, humming approvingly. „All for you, ma vie.“ Charles nodded. „Yes, all mine.“ The Monégasque started sucking on her clit again, acting as if his life essence is made up of the sweet sounds that escaped her throat. One of his fingers finally entered her, moving in and out in a steady rhythm that coordinated with the way his tongue moved along her clit. It felt as though she was his instrument: His fingers moved delicately inside of her, playing out a tune of moans mixing with the breathy calles of her name, truly showing his artistic skills aside from the piano. Two of his fingers were inside of her now, preparing the young woman for later, as he alternated between scissoring her hole and stroking her g-spot.

As Y/N felt her orgasm approach, her hands flew to her boyfriends fluffy hair, pulling on the loose curls. „Charlie, ne t’arrête pas!“ She moaned, feeling the tight knot in her lower stomach starting to loosen up. Spurred on by the soft massaging of her hands he moaned onto her clit. That was the last note missing in their steamy melody pulling the girl over the edge as she came with a loud scream of his name, squirting her juices into his mouth. He lapped at her lower lips, trying to collect all the juices he could get, before rising from his kneeling position. Her uneven breaths started to calm down again as she noticed the state of his chin through half-lidded eyes and let out a shaky laugh. „I’m so sorry, mon Chéri.“ Charles slightly leaned over her, moving his hand to her back, as he wrapped her right leg around his waist to pick her up and get her into a standing position in between him and the piano again. „No need to be sorry, mon ange. I enjoyed every second of it.“ At the second sentence his voice lowered an octave, accentuating every word into her ear. He nibbled on her earlobe moving down her neck, leaving a small hickey there. „Should we move this to the sofa for the big climax of our wonderful duet?“ He asked into her neck, knowing the couch was closer. „Yes, please.“ She breathed out, her head still thrown to the side, letting Charles have his access to her skin.

He took her hand in his and lead her to the other part of their living room. There, she regained some control when he turned around in order to kiss her, and she put her hand on his chest instead, pushing him back into the soft pillows. Charles smirked as he was under her spell once more. He patted his thighs and his girlfriend smiled, placing herself in her favorite seat, facing him. Once more the two lovers found themselves lost in each others eyes, before slowly leaning in, their lips meeting in a loving kiss, much softer than the ones before. Y/N moved her hands along his abs once more, moving over his bare chest to his toned shoulders. His own hands found their way to her wast, moving towards the hem of her – no, his – shirt, slowly lifting it above her head and throwing it somewhere behind him. The sudden cold air made her nipples harden, sending a shiver down her back. Charles smiled up at her – taking in all of her naked glory – and licked his lips in anticipation. His right hand moved to her breast, his lips latched around the other. „Ohh, Char…“ The young woman moaned and watched him suck on her tits. The fingers of his right hand fumbled with the small bud before he went to switch sides. Wanting to feel more of him, Y/N rubbed her body along his legs. Smirking, he removed himself from her boobs. „So impatient, ma jolie.“ His girlfriend laughed. „I mean, can you blame me? Everything about you turns me on immensly. Mon dieu, je t’aime tellement.“ The heat of her bare core meeting the cold skin of his thigh – he had already forgotten that her panties still layed somewhere by his piano – reminding him about the truthfulness of her statement. „Je t’aime aussi, mon cœur.“ The two stared lovingly at each other once more before the woman moved her hands down to the waistband of her boyfriends boxers – the only article of clothing left to separate their most intimate parts – and she couldn’t stand his advantage at all. „Take them off, baby.“ He smirked and tapped his hands on his girlfriends waist to signal her that she would have to get off him first. Y/N lifted her butt so that he could pull the garment down, letting them hang by his knees.

With his underwear out of the way, the woman above him slowly sunk down on his dick, stabilizing herself by putting her hands on his shoulders. At the feeling of Charles length entering her wet hole, they both let out long moans. „Putain!“ Y/N placed one of her hands on his cheek, making him look into her eyes – then she started to move. Slowly she lifted herself off him and sunk back down. The two lovers found a steady rhythm, their bodies creating a sweet melody once more. Charles hands wandered to his girlfriends ass, leaving a slap there before he kneaded the soft skin, soothing it in the process. His love let out a yelp and started to bounce on top of him faster. Her hands now rested on his waist, as she let her head fall to his neck, making her body lean on his. The new angle made both of them feel the movements more intensly – their breathy moans and husky groans filling the already sinful aria of skin slapping on skin to it’s full extent. „Chérie…“ the driver moaned into her ear, kissing his girlfriends shoulder. „Regarde-moi.“ Y/N lifted her head look at her boyfriend, who moved on of his hands to the back of her head, pulling her closer and locking their lips in a desperate and messy kiss. As they pulled away for air, both could feel their orgasms approaching. With his hand, Charles kept the woman close to him, the sweat on their foreheads mixing. „I’m so close.“ She deeply stared into his eyes, nodding frantically. „Moi aussi, Char.“ Then he steard to trust his hips up into hers, supporting her sloppier movements. Suddenly all the different components became too much for her to handle – from his hands on her body, his dick filling her wet core, to their erratic breaths conjoining in lazy, open-mouthed kisses - her body overstimulating as it reached it’s climax. The relieving wave washed over her and she came with a loud, high-pitched scream of her boyfriends name. Her walls clenched around his dick, sending Charles over the edge too, who let out a deep growl followed by a hitched cry of her nickname. The driver still held her body close as she collapsed on top of him and he started stroking her back in order to calm her down.

It felt like minutes before either of them moved again – the Monégasque just enjoying the feeling of her naked breasts on his skin, his partner listening to the sound of his beating heart. Charles even thought about taking her again, but that’s a thing that could wait until later. Right now, all he wanted to do was staying right here with her in his arms. But his girlfriend had other plans, as she was the first to sit up again. At the feeling of Charles dick still inside her both let out a groan, before laughing. „Merde, I almost forgot about that.“ Y/Ns hands caressed his cheeks as she dipped her head to leave a short but sweet kiss on his lips before she tried to lift herself off his length. She hissed at the feeling of the cold air of the living room hitting her warm entrance and noticed the way Charles cum dripped out of her hole. „Mmh, I love seeing that.“ The man in question stood up and pulled up his boxers before he stepped closer to his still very naked girlfriend again and held her close. „Can’t wait for when you don’t take the pill anymore. Gonna fill you up all nicely until you’re pregnant with our child, mon amour.“ He whispered seductively in her ear. The woman tried hard to keep her composure at his words, but the goosebumps on her skin gave her away. She wanted to have a child with him, as much as he wanted it, but only after they had gotten married. Leaving a last kiss on his lips before going off to search the shirt she was wearing earlier, she switched the topic while looking around the room with Charles following her around. „I’m starving, how about breakfast?“ Y/N smiled softly at Charles before putting on the piece of clothing, having found it laying behind the couch. „Oh yeah, let me help!“ The driver beamed as his girlfriend passed by the piano, picking up her panties, turning around afterwards to face her boyfriend – laughing at him. „Surely, ma vie, I’ll let you cut some veggies but that’s it, idiot.“ Charles jokingly rolled his eyes. „I’ll do anything, as long as it’s with you.“ She blushed at his words, softly hitting his chest with a wink. „Sweet.“ The two of them pulled back the curtains and opened the windows on the first floor of the apartment in order to let some fresh air in, before going to the kitchen to fix their brunch.

The two lovers spent the rest of their day cuddling on the couch, watching some movies and just enjoying each others company before ordering some takeout in the evening.

disclaimer: all work posted on here with this disclaimer was written by me. i do not consent this work to be published or translated on other sites than my own (@pastryleclerc on tumblr or wattpad). picture credits to their rightful owners

copyright: ©️ 2023 pastryleclerc on tumblr, all rights reserved

[the-broken-truth]

Return Home AU: "How I Accidently Freed My Family From Servitude." By Jadyen Viper

Summary: Gaining some breathing room from his elder brother due to club activites, Jayden tells his friends and Dorm Members at Ramshackle how he accident freed the Viper Family from Servitude & made them one of the riches familes in the Land of Scalding Sands.

@sweetbunpura - A Small Gift for ya, Boss. Hope you like it!

Note: Indented Slanted Text indicates Jayden's Narration during the flashback of the story.

|During After School Clubs| - |At Ramshackle Dorm|

Darius (Handing a cup of Lemon Tea to Jayden): Here you go.

Jayden (Takes the cup with a smile): Thanks. (Takes a sip) I swear this is someone of best tea I've had all week.

Marcus (Sitting in his favorite chair with a book in one hand and the other petting Grim who is using his lap as a pillow) (Looks at Jayden with a smile): You say that as if you are a guest and not a member of Ramshackle.

Yuu (Lodging in his chair with his feet on the table): Since he spends most of his time in Scarabia, he's rarely here.

Jayden (Points his finger at Yuu with a jokingly scowl on his face that matches his tone): It's not by choice and you know that, Housewarden Yuu!

Yuu (Chuckles as he waves his hand dismissively at Jayden's words): Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, I know, Small Serpent.

Darius (Taking a seat on the couch across from Jayden): I'm certain you are enjoying some time away from the overwhelming presence that's your elder brother.

Jayden: He's older than me by an HOUR. But, you are right, it's nice to have some time and space away from Jamil. (Exhales) He's just so overbearing since we got back from the Land of Scalding Sands...

Yuu (Raises an eyebrow): Just what the heck happened over there that made your brother cling to you tight than a noble grips his coin purse?

Jayden: Remember what happened during the Winter Holiday?

Marcus: Darius and I never heard what happened since he and I were with our fathers over the holidays.

Yuu: That Bastard Crow wanted me to do something, but Jay (Yuu's Nickname for Jayden) offered to do it for me and ended up running into Viper cooking with some of the other Scarabia Students.

Jayden: Jamil told me that Kalim was acting strange, turning into more of a tyrant and over-training the students, Jamil asked Grim and I for help to find out what was wrong with Kalim; but it turned out it was all a ruse. Jamil used his Unique Magic, Snake Whisper, to control Kalim into acting like that so the other dorm members would kick him out and Jamil would take his place as Housewarden.

Marcus: In other words, Jamil Viper attempted a coup. Did it have something to do with the Viper Family's Servitude that I heard about?

Jayden: Yeah...

Darius (Raises an eyebrow): How about you tell use what happened in the Land of Scalding Sands during the 3-Day Weekend?

Jayden (Exhales): Okay, get comfortable. I'll tell you how I accidently freed the Viper Family from servitude...

[Flashback:] [First Day of the Three-Day Weekend] [Land of Scalding Sands]

Jayden: A while after Jamil's Overblot, Jamil and our parents requested that I come meet them for the 3-Day Holiday; since I had nothing better to do and I was rather curious about where I was from that I couldn't remember due to my head injury. Thus, I accepted his invitation and joined him & Kalim to the place of our origin: Land of Scalding Sands.

Jayden (Looking around him with fasination & curiosity dancing in his silver eyes): This is the Land of Scalding Sands? (Looks up in the sun's direction without looking directionly at it) True to its' name, I feel like I'm standing under the Summer Sun during mid-day back on Earth.

Jamil (Looks over at Jayden): Earth?

Jayden (Looking at Jamil): The name of the planet where I was sent to. It's a lot like Wonderland but there is no magic there.

Jamil (Raises an eyebrow): When you disappeared, you were 6 years old. Just how have you been taking care of yourself?

Jayden (Smiles): A nice couple found me and took me in. They gave me my name 'Jayden', since I couldn't remember my real name.

Jamil: I could tell you your real name...

Jayden: It's okay. I love my Earthling Name because it's who I am.

Jamil: And yet you would cast aside the name given by your parents?

Jayden: I'm not saying that, Jamil.

Jamil: Then, why don't you just use your real name? The name our parents gave you at birth?

Jayden: It's... It's complicated, Jamil. I'll explain later. (Looks over Jamil's Shoulder) Kalim is coming.

Jayden: Kalim greeted us and welcomed me 'back home' but then he told Jamil that Mr. Asim wanted to speak with him & the Viper Family regarding what to do about me since I had been missing for so long that I was declared dead. Jamil gave me 1,000 Madol and told me to explore the place I once knew as home to become familiar with it again while he went t speak to Mr. Asim and his family. I decided to walk around until I found soething rather intesting: A Bookstore.

Jayden (Standing outside a shop called 'Bizzare Bargains' - A Discount Bookstore): Hm... What an interesting name.

[Jayden opened the door and walked inside the store, taking in the sights around him: books on the shelves sorted by genre with rather unique covers before his eyes drifted to a crate of books with a sign hanging on the edge: "Bargain Books" - Under 10 Madol. Jayden raised an eyebrow, walked over the the Bargain Books Crate and started looking through it.]

Store Owner: Are you certain you wanna look through those? No one really looks through those books.

Jayden (Searching through the books): If there is anything I know about book, the most interesting books are the ones that don't have the most appeal with other people. I always love looking through discount book crates. Hm?

[Jayden's eyes landed on a small book with a crimson cover made of a soft material that was torn in multiple places and faded from time. Wrapping his hands around the fragile spine of the book, he lifted it, his eyes trained on the strange symbol in the center of the book. The strange marking made his brain itch, it looked so familiar but he couldn't make the connection as to where he had seen it before. However, one thing was certain: This book was calling to him.]

Jayden (Walks over to the counter, places the book down before looking at the Store Worker): I would like this one, please.

Store Owner (Looks at the book): That one? It's been here for so long, I was gonna throw it away since no one wanted it but I kept forgetting about it. I'm not about to charge you for that. You can have it.

Jayden: Oh. Um... Thank you. (Sees a satchel on the wall with a sale sign on it) Can I buy that satchel behind you?

Store Owner: Sure. I'm give it to you for 300 Madol.

Jayden: Deal.

Jayden: After getting the book & satchel, I got a small snack but along the way, there was a stand hosting a raffle about an abandoned estate complex; apparently someone purchased it just to give it away in a raffle as a deed of karma. I thought it would be funny so I purchased a raffle ticket and went somewhere to ready the book and the moment I opened it, a piece of paper fell out from the eroding cover. What I didn't know...that was going to be the one piece of paper that freed the Vipers.

Jayden: Huh? What's this?

[Jayden picked up the paper and gently unfolded it: It was written in a language he didn't understand with markings on the bottom that appeared to look lik signatures and stamps, but with ink instead of wax. With a raised eyebrow, Jayden looked around before he happened to find the Scalding Sand Archive. He walked inside and lookd around for someone to aid him when a man walked up to him.]

Elder Man: Good afternoon, Young Man. It's quite rare to see a young soul in these halls of history and wisdom. What can I do for you?

Jayden (Holds out the strange paper to the Elder Man): I found this paper in an old book I bought, but it's in a language I don't understand; the same with the book.

Elder Man (Takes the paper): Let's see what we have here. (Adjusting his glasses and looks over the paper) Hm. I can understand why you wuld not understand this language - This is the Ancient Language of the Land of Scalding Sands when it was first being founded. The paper this is written on over 500 years old; it's no longer in production because the trees it was made from have long since been extinct.

Jayden: Really? Can you tell me what is says?

Elder Man (Looking at it): I would need to hold to this since I would need to brush up on my Ancient Language Translation. I should have it done in a few hours and, if you want, I can take a look at the book you found this in; it could be something interesting.

[With a nod of his head, Jayden reached into his satchel and handed the book to the Elder Man who asked where he would be staying so that he would return everything with the information. With a smile, the Elder Man walked off with the paper and book while Jayden left the archives to head to Asim Estate to meet the family he was born into.]

Jayden: I will admit that meeting Jamil's Parents... My Parents...and my youngest sister, Najma, was something else; I wasn't sure how to react to them. Sure, they had my blood but they were complete strangers to me. Then, I meet Mr. Asim - Kalim's Father & Head of the Asim Family; he was...interesting. He was kind, but at the same time, he was a businessman. He informed me that process of clearing my death was underway and he was debating what to do with me since I was a Servant's Son; however, before I could say anything, a servant came in and told Mr. Asim that someone from the Archives was looking for me, Mr. Asim. and Mr. Viper... It was major news. News that would change their lives.

Mr. Asim: And you are whom?

Elder Man: Good Afternoon, Mr. Asim. I am Issac Croft and I work in the Archives. I need to speak to you about the incredible discovery this young man found. (Gesturing to Jayden)

Mr. Asim: Which is?

Issac Croft (Holds up the paper framed with a authentifcation stick on the corner): This document. (Reaches into his bag and pulls out the book) And This Journal.

Mr. Asim (Looking at the Journal): That's journal bears the Asim Family Crest. (Looks at Jayden) Where did you get your hands on that when you have never been here before?

Jayden: At a bookstore.

Issac Croft: That's not important, Ms. Asim. What is important is the contents of this contract.

Jayden: It's a contract?

Issac: Yes. From what I have depicted, this contract was an agreement between the first heads of the Asim and Viper Families over 500 years.

Mr. Asim: What contract do you speak of? I've never heard of any kind of agreement?

Issac: You may not have but the owner of this journal did. This Journal belonged to Maxius Crane, The Attendant to the First Head of the Asim Family. He documented everything, including the signing of this contract which was an agreeent between the Asim and Vipers in regards to the Viper's Servitude to the Asim Family.

Najma: A Servitude Agreement?

Mr. Viper: I never heard of anything like this.

Mr. Asim: Nor have I but I can confirm the stamp is he Asim's Original Stamp.

Mr. Viper: And I can confirm our family's stamp. What was the agreement?

Issac: This contract stated that The Vipers were to serve the Asim Family for 200 Years with compensation to the generation at the end of the timespan on the contract.

Jayden: But, didn't you tell me that contract is over 500 years old?

Issac: Correct. Meaning the Viper Family has been serving 300 years longer than the alotted time.

Mr. Asim: If that is the case, the Viper Family are owed their freedom and compensation.

Viper Family: WHAT?!

Mr. Viper: Our freedom?!

Mrs. Viper: Compensation?!

Najma: We're free?!

Jamil:...

Ms. Asim: Mr. Viper. Mr. Croft. Follow me to my office, we need to discuss the compensation details.

[Jamil's Father, Kalim's Father, and Issac leave the office.]

Ms. Viper/Najma/Jamil: (Looks at Jayden)

Jayden:... Hey?

Darius: Ah. So,, that is what happened.

Marcus: And people say books are useless.

Yuu: What about the estate you told us about?

Jayden: Turns out I won the Estate Raffle and the old estate became Viper Estate.

Yuu: Damn. Went for vacation a freed your family by getting a book.

Jayden: Yeah, and Jamil has been hunting me ever since...

Jamil: I wouldn't call it hunting.

Jayden (Jumps out his seat and looks at Jamil): WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?!

Jamil: I've been here for 10 minutes just listen to you talk.

Jayden: You were just watching me?! You're such a stalker.

Jamil: Say what you want. Let's go, we're going back to Scarabia.

Jayden: No. I'm staying here.

Jamil: Jayden... (Tilts his head) When did I give you a choice?

Jayden::... (Makes a run for it)

Jamil: Excuse me. (Runs after him)

Yuu:... Damn.

[End]

@sweetbunpura - Thoughts, Boss?

[jjkamochoso]

...i have come again! With more noritoshi stuff,,,maybe noritoshi is really scary of what his family will think about reader, and they get in a fight about it but they make up in the end! (i need my nori angst) thank you! :3

MMMMMM I LOVE ANGST AND I LOVE NORITOSHI SO THIS IS RIGHT UP MY ALLEY thank you for being patient as I worked on this!! Thank you for the prompt and I really hope you enjoy this story!! You're always helping feed my Noritoshi obsession and I am SO appreciative of that lmao

Family Feud

Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Noritoshi Kamo x gn!reader

Warnings: cussing; this is slightly fem coded because reader receives flowers but imo flowers are gender neutral😌

You were currently sitting on your boyfriend Noritoshi's bed, scrolling through your phone while he pored over yet another stack of papers with important information regarding the Kamo clan. As he was next in line to be the clan head, he was always studying traditional texts, making sure he knew everything there was to know about his family and their history, along with staying updated on the other clans' behaviors and keeping tabs on them. It was a loaded job for a boy of his age, having felt the pressure to be perfect ever since his mom was forced out of the clan all those years ago. His family was a complete enigma to you since you still hadn't met them. Every time you brought up the idea of visiting his estate to say hello to them, he shut you down immediately. You loved Noritoshi, and you were sure he loved you too, but you could't help but get the feeling he wanted to keep you hidden from them for some reason. Little did you know, that topic was about to be brought up again and lead to a messy outcome.

Noritoshi's phone dinged but he paid it no mind as he continued with his task at hand. After the second chime, you picked up his phone and brought it to him.

"Thank you," he mumbled absentmindedly, setting the phone down without a second glance.

"Aren't you going to read it?" you prompted, curious to know what the text was about. You saw the preview of the message on his screen as you brought it to him and it piqued your interest since it was from his father. To be honest, he didn't sound like the type of man to even know cell phones existed so to say you were eager to hear what he had to tell Noritoshi through that medium was an understatement.

"In a second," he replied, his nose buried in the papers in front of him.

"It's from your dad."

"HUH?"

You'd never seen Noritoshi whip his head around as fast as he unlocked his phone with lightning speed, a slightly concerned look on his face as his eyes scanned over the digital words in front of him.

"He wants me to call him. If you'll excuse me, I'm going in the other room so I don't bother you."

"You'd never bother me, my love," you told him, sending a soft smile his way. For the first time that day, Noritoshi visibly relaxed, releasing a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding for hours. You were the only thing in his life that never caused him undue amounts of stress. You were the person who helped ground him in moments like these where everything felt impossible. Just seeing a glimpse of the back of your head was enough to keep Noritoshi happy for hours, but being lucky enough to be treated by the appearance of a smile on your face was plenty motivation for him to work even harder to be the best member of the Kamo clan, the most acclaimed heir, and give you the most luxurious life you deserved.

A luxurious life, preferably miles and miles away from his dreadful family.

He tried to love them, he did, but they were, quite frankly, insufferable. Nothing he ever did was good enough and all of his actions were continuously scrutinized. It was exhausting being around them during meetings and some days he wanted to bash his head against the table as they droned on and on about the most inconsequential topics, paying no mind to issues that actually matter. The clan had no respect for his mother, the only family member he truly cared for, and so, he had no respect for them. They would never know that, of course, because he needed to be on his best behavior lest his position as clan head get passed on to someone else and all his hard work would be for nought. He was also extremely aware of the prejudice his family had against anyone who wasn't from an esteemed sorcerer family, meaning you would barely place the tip of your shoe on his family's estate and they would have you escorted from the premises immediately. He loved you too much for you to be a victim of their cruel words and harsh behavior so he avoided bringing you around to meet them, for your sake and his own.

"I'll only be a minute," he said earnestly, stepping out of his bedroom and into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He mentally prepared himself for whatever venomous words he was about to be subjected to as the phone line rang in his ear.

"Hello, father. What may I do for you?"

You didn't want to be rude and eavesdrop, but you desperately wanted to know how the conversation was going between Noritoshi and his dad. You knew the head Kamo could be abrasive so you hoped your boyfriend would leave the phone call halfway unscathed. Even without putting your ear to the door, you heard Noritoshi's gentle voice become firmer.

"Yes, father... No, father... Alright. I'll see you then. Goodbye."

Noritoshi came back in, a frustrated sigh leaving him as his hand ruffled the hair on the back of his head.

"I hate to do this to you, y/n, but I have to reschedule our date tonight. My father said everyone is needed at the estate for a family conference and dinner. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, it's not your fault," you said, putting your phone down. "If everyone is gonna be there, wouldn't it be the best time for me to go and finally meet your family?"

"That's really not a good idea," he said, sitting in his desk chair again. "I don't think now's the right time. There'll be too much going on and I don't want you to get overwhelmed."

"But it's never the right time according to you," you said, exasperated from him continually stringing you along. "I'm starting to feel like you don't want me to meet them at all."

He gulped. That was very true, but not for the reason you probably thought. It wasn't you who shouldn't meet them, it was them who didn't deserve to meet you.

"That's not... totally true," he told you, his focus going back to the papers in front of him as an excuse to end this conversation before it went south. "I have to finish studying this before I go. You're welcome to stay here in the meantime but I'm not sure if I'll be back tonight."

"Hold on. I'm not dropping this so easily."

"I really wish you would."

Your eyes narrowed. "Can you just tell me why I can't meet them? You've never given me one real reason. Just one, and I'll be quiet about it."

"They're just busy, that's all."

"That's bullshit and you know it."

He still wouldn't meet your eyes, pretending to be engrossed in his work, which was really starting to piss you off.

"What, now I'm too boring to even pay attention to?"

That got him to finally look up.

"Listen, y/n, you know my family is... complicated. I would like to keep you away from that mess for as long as possible."

"I'm quite old enough to hold my own against a "complicated" family," you seethed, trying to keep your cool, but almost failing. "I don't need you to protect me like I'm a child or something! Do they even know I exist?"

It was much too quiet for much too long.

"Damn it, Noritoshi, answer me! Do they know you're dating someone?"

"I... they know you exist. I talk about you all the time, I do," he said, his heart beating quickly in his chest, "but... no. I haven't told them we're dating."

At that moment, you felt your heart snap in two. Noritoshi was so ashamed at his admission that he refused to see your face, afraid to witness how bad he just hurt you.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" you breathed out, voice cracking. "I've shared everything with you all this time and you do this to me? My family knows everything about you and can't wait to meet you but your family doesn't even know we're together? You told me you loved me but you can't tell your family anything because they're, what, too dysfunctional? I can't believe this is happening right now. I really can't."

You stood from the bed, snatching your phone and grabbing your jacket that was strewn next to you. Shoving your feet in your shoes, you gave Noritoshi a tearful glance.

"I hope you're happy with the way this turned out. Don't you dare try to talk to me after this."

"Y/n, wait!" he yelled out, but you had already slammed the door behind you. He was at a total loss of what to do. He knew he made an extremely grave error, but the whole time he convinced himself it was the best decision for both of you. Very obviously, that couldn't be further from the truth, and he was scared that he had just lost the love of his life due to his stupidity and cowardice. He so desperately wanted to run after you and explain the whole situation, come clean about his intentions, but if he wanted to make it to the Kamo estate on time, he had to leave in a few minutes. Making his choice, he exited his room.

When you got to your room, tears were falling freely down your cheeks. You were truly at a loss with Noritoshi. How could he hide you from his family like that? To think you loved each other, yet he kept you a secret? Was he ashamed of you? Were you too poor? Too unattractive? What was it about you that he felt the need to disguise the fact that you two were dating? You went to unlock your phone, but seeing your lock screen with his face smiling at you, so carefree, made you want to sob even harder. You threw the phone away from you, the piece of technology landing on your comforter with a soft thud. You laid crying on your bed for who knows how long, feeling exhausted as the tears finally subsided. You needed to occupy your mind with something else so you grabbed the remote to turn on your tv. Before you could find an interesting show, there was a knock at your door. You checked the time on your phone: 5:30 pm. It couldn't possibly be Noritoshi, he was at his family's place right now. Confused, you got up and peeked through the window next to the door to make sure it was someone you knew.

What the hell was Noritoshi doing here?

"Go away, Kamo," you yelled through the door.

"I really need to talk to you, y/n. I messed up and I want to explain myself."

You rolled your eyes. "You should've thought of that before you ripped out my heart and stomped on it."

"I know. Please, just give me one minute to talk and if you're still upset, I promise I'll leave you alone."

You wanted to ignore him and send him home, but you could tell by the look on his face that he was just as torn up about the fight as you were. It wouldn’t hurt to hear him out—you could easily slam the door in his face again if need be. You opened the door tentatively to find yourself on the receiving end of a beautiful bouquet of flowers but you tried to act unimpressed so he didn’t think that was enough for forgiveness.

"Flowers? How emotionally unavailable do you have to be to think that showing up at my door with plants is an acceptable apology?"

Noritoshi tried his best to not look deflated at your annoyed tone. “That’s not the whole apology, just a tiny portion, I promise.”

“You promised a lot to me while we were dating,” you scoffed.

“I was wrong to not tell my family about you—about us.”

“I know.”

He continued. “I made a huge mistake not telling you the truth from the start.”

“I know.”

“I was a huge asshole, y/n.”

“Please, tell me something I don’t know.”

“I didn’t want you to meet my family because I was afraid they would scare you off and I would lose you for good.”

Oh? That was something you didn’t know. He took your lack of response as an indication to keep talking.

"As you're aware, my clan is one of the major sorcerer families in jujutsu society and because of that, they're very judgmental and total elitists. Since you're not from an influential family, I didn't know how they would react to me dating you. It's not right but I figured they wouldn't accept us being together. I didn't want you swept up in clan politics and become subjected to insults if I brought you to meet them."

As you thought about what he told you, the pieces all fell into place. There were signs here and there that Noritoshi didn't agree with his family's ideas most of the time, but had to hold his tongue as not to upset them and potentially lose out on being the next in charge.

"That... actually makes a lot of sense," you eventually replied, "but why didn't you just tell me that in the first place? I would've been much more understanding had I known how you were feeling."

"Because I was a coward and thought running from my fears would be easier than facing the fact that my family is so messed up," he confessed. "I hope you know that my intentions were good. I wanted to protect you so badly but I was the one that ended up hurting you. I am truly very sorry I lied to you and made you feel like you were the problem when it was my fault the whole time."

You leaned against your door, letting his words sink in. You had to admit, he did seem truly remorseful. He wouldn't have shown up on your doorstep, flowers and all, to tell you the truth if he didn't want to, especially since he was skipping a very important clan meeting to do so!

"I still would prefer if you didn't meet my family since they can be overcritical and cruel, and you deserve much more than that," he said, "but if you want to, I'd be honored to take you to dinner tonight and present to them my kind hearted, strong willed partner... if you'll still have me as a partner, that is."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "So you had a change of heart, then?"

"No change of heart, just change of mind."

You tried to contain your smile at his cheesy line but failed. "Fine. If you're sure, I'd love to come to dinner with you tonight. As your partner, of course. I never want to live in a world where I'm not by your side."

Noritoshi let out a huge sigh of relief, letting a smile fall easily on his lips as well. "You'll accept these flowers, then?"

"Of course I will." You took the flowers into your possession, smelling their sweet fragrance. "I love them, Noritoshi, and I love you."

"I love you too, y/n, that's why I'm here fighting for you instead of fighting boredom at the meeting."

You smirked. "I take it you don't like attending those?"

"I hate them. I really, really, hate them. But at least I know the dinner will be much more tolerable with you next to me."

You leaned over and brought Noritoshi into a kiss, savoring the feeling of his lips on yours. You weren't sure what you were going to be walking into later that evening, but you knew you could conquer anything with Noritoshi.

[persephone11110]

rain is a good thing

Jake‘Hangman’Seresin x Reader

Chapter 4: Memories

Warnings: medical induced coma, medical inaccuracy,past relationship, mama seresin, flashback of jake and y/nrelationship—there italicized

Chapter Summary: Its not awkward sitting in the room with your ex boyfriend-mother.

Characters: Gina Sersesin | Doctor Kate Young

A/N: does jake make it ? , enjoy and thank you to everyone who continues to like and reblog and comment.

WC:810

Previous | Next

Series Masterlist

—

You didn’t love him anymore not like before. Your just doing the right thing- which was keeping him company. After all what are ex girlfriends who still love their ex boyfriend there for?

So why are you sitting at your ex-boyfriend bedside holding his hand, reassuring him that you’ll never leave his side until he’s fully awake and functioning. You drop his hand by accident after hearing a familae voice, a voice you haven’t heard in a while.

You recognize two distinct voices- one voice belonging to Dr. Young the neurosurgeon who operated on Jake… and the other voiced was Jakes mother- Gina Seresin. Her voice heavy with a southern accent, dare you say heavier than Jakes. You hear Dr Young say something to her but your to busy listening to your heart rate accelerate to thousand beats per minute.

The back of your neck beat red you immediately rise out of the chair turning to meet her, she’s holding a bouquet of flowers, and picture of young Jake. Gina Seresin swears her old brain is playing tricks on her because Y/n L/n the heart her son broke was standing infront of her with a beat red face. “Is that you Y/n?”, you expected her voice to be dripping with anger but it isn’t, she motions you towards her. “C’mere darlin” she whispers to you.

“H-Hi Mrs. Seresin”, she envelopes you into a hug, her calmed voice provides you with a sense of comfort you haven’t had since you were a child. Your supposed to comforting the woman who son life hangs in between life and death, she flew all the way from Texas with by herself with the idea that her only son might be dead by the time she got to the hospital.

“Nonesense Y/n like I told you all those other times you have the right to call me anything but Mrs. Seresin”, she shushes you gently, neither of you were going to bring up the fact that both your shirts were now wet.

“Its nice to see you Gina”, your voice rough because of the crying you’ve been doing since you first saw Jake lying in the hospital bed.

You break apart from the hug- wiping away the tears,“Its nice to you see Gina, I wished we were meeting under different circumstances”, you grab the picture and flowers from her, putting on the table next to Jake. She pulls a chair from the wall, pulling it to the other side of Jakes bed.

She gives you a teary response in return,“Me too sweetheart”. Gina grabs Jakes hand gently and cups her hands around his,“Your going to be just fine baby, Rocky been waiting for you to ride her Jake”. How could you forget Rocky, when you and Jake were together he often brought up Rocky, a horse he had since he could walk. He would go on for hours about Rocky and how much he missed her while being stationed in California.

Wanting to give Gina alone time with her son you decided to slip out while her back to you and she’s busy telling Jake a story about Rocky.

You get lost in your mind as you wandered the hospital halls, walking past some hospital rooms with made beds, some with familes at the person bedside crying. Hearing a nurse yell clear as they attempt to bring someone back to life.

“Y’know Y/n your supposed to actually flip grill cheese”. Jake murmurs from behind, wrapping his arms around you.“Do you not like cheese sweets?”. He asks you with his signature shit eating grin.

“Jake you didn’t complain last time when I made it”. you hold the spatula upto his chest,“Not once did you speak ill of my cooking”.

“Well sweetheart you supposed to give compliments to the chef”. He grabs the spatula out of your hand placing it onto a napkin nearby.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”, you two are swaying back in forth with your arms lightly wrapped around Jakes neck.

“Yes it is”. you roll your eyes at Jakes sacarsm.“I love how excited you get when its your turn to cook that I just eat it darlin,watching you sing and bump your hips to music while cooking is my favorite thing to watch”.

“Well” you started to get teary, can’t find anything to say. “I love you Jake”. He pulls you so close that you feel how warm he is.

“Gotta show my darlin how much I love her”. Jake whispers into your ears, suddenly his lips are softly crashing into yours.

Between each breathe Jake utters a I love you.

“I love you so much sweetheart”. Jake inhales again, “I fucking love you”.

Your leaning aganist the doorway watching Gina finally succumb to sleep after hours of sitting at Jake beside awake, afraid to fall asleep.

“I love you”. you whispered into the quiet room.

Taglist: @chocolatefartstrawberry, @buckysteveloki-me, @dontletthemtakeyoualive, @classyunknownlover, @els-marvelvsp, @i-am-mrsreckless, @cinderellasmissingshoes,

[infiniteeight8]

I don't know if you are familer with this trope but:

Guide and Senital ironstrange

Anon, not only am I familiar with this trope, I wrote the tumblr post that quite a few people have used to explain it. 😀

I can actually rationalize Stephen and Tony in either role, but I decided to go with the most obvious (to me, anyway) version. This time, anyway! 

This is also a “Sentinels and Guides are known” style AU.

-

Tony tries very, very hard not to use his senses at all. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want them. He may have issues, but they aren’t those particular issues. He’d be happy to lean into those genetic advantages if, in his case, they outweighed the risks. Which they don’t. Three Sentinel and Guide centers (his local California Center first, then the California State Center, then the New York Center) all agree that Tony is, quote, “unusually susceptible to zone outs.” 

Which more or less means that damn near anything can tip him into one, and damn near nothing can get him out of one. Pepper, despite being so weak a Guide she only just registers on the test, is the best at getting him out of them. Given a quiet place and about half an hour undisturbed, she can get him back about half the time. The rest of the time, there’s nothing to do but wait. He usually comes out of a zone after four or five hours. Usually.

Once, he had to be put into care in the S&G Center for three days.

No one enjoys that, least of all Tony. So he does his best not to give his brain the opportunity to hyperfocus, and he meets the Guides the Center sends to match with him, and he tries not to envy the Sentinels who can snap out of a zone with a few words from the right person. 

Unfortunately, Tony’s work regularly involves intense focus on very small objects. Soldering a circuit board is legitimately dangerous for him, but like hell he’s going to give the job to someone else, especially when it concerns the armor. He tells himself that even when FRIDAY warns him against such work while Pepper is out of town.

The tiny…

…details… 

…swallow… 

…him.

.

.

The low rumble of a voice. A warm hand holding his, trembling faintly. The scent of tea and dust and something like but unlike ozone. It’s the scent that Tony follows back into the world. Blinking, Tony carefully straightens up from where he was hunched over his work bench. He doesn’t feel sore, which is unusual.

“Tony?”

Tony turns to find Stephen Strange sitting next to him, eyebrows knitted in concern. Tony clears his throat, but it doesn’t feel dry. “Yeah, I’m here. How long was I out?”

FRIDAY answers, “Fifteen minutes. With Ms. Potts out of town, I considered calling the S&G Center, but Doctor Strange is a registered Guide and I decided he was more likely to respond quickly.”

“You did good, FRIDAY,” Tony reassures her automatically, and then really registers her words. He turns to Strange. “You got me back in fifteen minutes?”

“More like ten, once I got here,” Strange says. “I’m sorry, it shouldn’t take that long.”

“That long?” Tony laughs. “Strange, that’s the fastest anyone has ever gotten me out of zone out in my entire life. That’s assuming they even can get me back. Are you bonded? Tell me you’re not bonded.”

Strange lets out an incredulous huff of laughter and shakes his head. “I’m not bonded,” he says. “And to anticipate your next question, yes, I’m amenable to a courtship.”

“Amenable,” Tony snorts, but he’s smiling. “Fantastic. FRIDAY, is there paperwork? If there is, get it started.”

Strange looks bemused, but in a good way, like he’s enjoying the ride. It’s a good sign, Tony decides.

[tyrahmen]

I know I’m 15 years late, but I need to talk about the Professor Layton prequel games.

Includes spoilers for Last Specter, Miracle Mask and Azran Legacy. Because I have words to say.

As a kid, I was a huge fan of the original three Layton games. Even though it was a long time ago, I still have fond memories of pouring over the riddles with my brother. We also watched the movie together some time back then, but only recently upon rewatching it did I find out that it belongs to a prequel series of games.

I got my hands on them and immediately my love for the games was reignited. I absolutely adore Last Specter, it was everything I still held dear in my memories and more. I finished the game at almost 100% in only two days or so. I’m planning on replaying the original games soon, but Last Specter might just stay my favourite game of them all.

Then I jumped into Miracle Mask and… I don’t want to say I hated it, but I struggle to find a less intense word to describe my disappointment. I really disliked the 3D graphics, the new controls, and most importantly, almost every single screen of the game. Professor Layton, for me, equals a cozy but slightly mysterious setting. It equals calm. Monte d’Or is anything but. It’s colorful and visually noisy, and that combined with the 3D graphics I dislike made for a very exhausting experience. I ended up rushing through the game to get it done instead of enjoying it and seeking out every puzzle I could.

I guess I went into Azran Legacy with lower expectations, because I found the graphics and controls much more tolerable there (even though I still don’t quite like them). It’s still competing with Miracle Mask for least favourite in my list simply because of the story.

Now don’t get me wrong, I did enjoy the story for the most part. It just… takes away so much from the other stories, especially from the previous two games. I loved the Layton stories in great part because they are so personal – the mystery is meaningful because it means something to characters we love/get to love throughout the game. Azran Legacy’s story is too grand. It affects the whole world, takes place throughout the whole world, and feels like it spreads itself too thin because of it. It doesn’t have enough time for individuals because there’s so much to do. And in the face of such high stakes, what was the meaning of saving a single town in Last Specter or Miracle Mask? That Garden of Healing, that was so important at the end of Last Specter because it means Arianna can live, is now relegated to being “just one of the Azran ruins”, just like the ruins of Akbadain (or however you write it, I can’t quite remember sorry), which had so much meaning to our beloved Professor and his childhood friends. Which, by the way, despite being alluded to being incredibly vital in unveiling the Azran Legacy, have no role besides like a half-sentence in the third game.

And… the ending. I refuse to accept what they did to Emmy as canon because it feels less like a plot twist and more like a “Oh, we forgot these are prequels and we need a reason for her not to be in the other games”. It doesn’t fit her character at all. It’s not a betrayal from her, but from the writers – they made this really cool character that we love and care about, and then, three games and a movie in, go like “haha jinx, she was against you this entire time”. Like—no?? Have you read your own characterization of her? Because I did, and there wasn’t a single line that didn’t read “she genuinely cares about the Professor and Luke and EVERYONE THEY MEET”. She saw how Targent treated people. No way would she still be unquestioningly loyal to Bronev, especially after knowing the Professor for a while. If you wanna drop this kind of “plot twist” on a main character, making them go completely against their morals and their previous characteristics, you have to have at least one thing, literally anything that foreshadows it. The Professor more or less got closure with his family matters there (which also seemed a little bit shoe-horned in, in my opinion, they could have just left it out and it still would have been fine), but the conclusion of everyone else’s arcs felt… so unsatisfying. Emmy I already went into way too much detail about. But Aurora too – her death was so cliché I couldn’t even be sad about it. They literally did the exact same with her as with Loosha, the “sacrificed herself so we don’t have to figure out the consequences of her existing in this universe”. I already didn’t like it in Last Specter, but I could accept it. But them pulling the same thing at the end of the series just feels cheap.

I think this is enough of a rant. If anyone ever reads this far, thank you! Feel free to let me know what you think/thought about the development of the games, and which one of all of them is your favourite.

I’m gonna go replay Curious Village now. It’s been so many years I barely remember the story, so let’s see if I remember any puzzles :D

[l-antre-des-merveilles]

An introduction to your author (aka yours truly) (yes, again)

Hello everyone !

Nothing new under the sun- I just decided, after much thoughts, that switching my main and secondary blog would be easier moving forward. The writeblog is now the main one, retitled L’antre des Merveilles for the occasion, and all the reblogs will be done on @swift-perseides !

I won’t be deleting all the reblogs that were already done here (24k posts, I’m not crazy-), but I will be deleting the posts already done on the sideblog to repost them here, no panic- and everything writeblr-related will continue here ! (People will finaly be able to send asks, yeheeee)

I will be handling all the modifications tonight, but in the meantime, enjoy the repost of my writer intro~!

XxX

Hello everyone!

About me:

I’m Maz, a trans man writer, who decided to finally jump the shark and share with other fellow writers and people in general the world I’ve created and wish to publish one day!

I mainly write fantasy stories filled with drama and angst before the happy ending (the joy of being a big softie who always NEEDS a happy ending AND a lover of whump), with magic oddly terrifying, focus on relationships (romance yes, but platonic, friendship, family, and more !) court intrigues, adventures, and families found in the most unlikely of places- all of that queer (in general, so long as I haven’t say it EXPLICITELY, just assume all my characters are queer :”D)

I have been on Tumblr for a while, but I’d love to meet new friends and people to discuss with here! ^u^

I’ll be posting wips, drabbles, maybe some longer texts, and probably lots of worldbuilding stuff (bc I love those too much lmao).

My ask box is ALWAYS open for asks of any kinds (questions on characters, in general, worldbuilding or other advice, etc- as long as everybody is respectful), tag games, ask-games, and any events that might happen in the writeblr community any day of the week ! Coming to talk about your OCs or work is okay as well too!

Probably important to note- English isn’t my main language, and with school kicking in I might not be active 24h/24 or everyday, but I’ll do my best!

My reblog blog: https://www.tumblr.com/swift-perseides

About my work :

- Breaking the Wheel- The Chronicles of Havren (coming-of-age series, queer main characters and representation, magic is a dangerous thing, found family, deals with hard topics such as abusive familes and abusive dynamics, cycle of abuse, torture, grief)

Did anybody ever wondered, in our beloved stories of worlds ravaged by epic wars between monstruous, terrifying beings against mighty and glorious heroes, what might be taking place away from the battlefield ?

On the continent of Havren, it’s what the latest generation of the 10 royal families of the realm are about to find out: their parents bound by the ancestral Serment of Ashaara to defeat the apocalyptic threat of the Veil, it’s to the faraway queendom of Litespes, reputed as the most secure land on the continent by its sovereign, that children and teens are send to grow up in complete safety- whether they want it or not, not a matter for them to decide.

King Consort, Princess, Knight and Healer respectively, Kazan, Aboaleyne, Becca and Llyr might have never set a foot on the battlefield, Life is far from having been kind to them either- to be honest, at the rate things are going, life isn’t going to last that long for them anyway before they let their souls destroyed by their own demons.

But what to make of it, when Fate throw the whole game upside down, and put those 4 adults, with nothing in common than parenthood, to meet...alongside the royal heirs, as lost, wounded and abandonned than them? Can adults and children let the past keep on carrying on their life, or will these years away from their realms give a far more greater solace to such uncanny group than any of them would have ever anticipated?

The end of an era is near for Havren- but the massive changes that will bring this new dawn might not come from the glorious deeds of our warriors monarchs like we’re all anticipating...

I suppose that’s it! I hope you all have a good day ! ouo/

[lingoreliclanguageacademyf]

Useful French Idioms For Levels B1+

French expressions provide insights into both language and culture. From wise sayings like 'L'habit ne fait pas le moine' to confident affirmations like 'Je te donne mon billet pour ça,' these idioms offer glimpses into everyday life. In this blog, we'll explore a curated collection of these expressive French phrases commonly encountered in language exams.

1. Avoir le beurre et l'argent du beurre

This expression means "to have your cake and eat it too." It shows enjoying the benefits of two choices at once. It implies wanting to keep all advantages without giving up one for the other, even if they seem contradictory.

Par exemple,

Elle veut garder son travail à temps plein tout en passant plus de temps avec sa famille. Elle veut avoir le beurre et l'argent du beurre.

(She wants to keep her full-time job while spending more time with her family. She wants to have her cake and eat it too.)

2. L'habit ne fait pas le moine

"Don't judge a book by its cover" advises against forming opinions based solely on appearances. It suggests that someone's outward appearance might not reflect their true nature or character accurately.

Par exemple,

Ne te laisse pas tromper par son apparence négligée. L'habit ne fait pas le moine.

(Don't let yourself be fooled by his sloppy appearance. The habit doesn't make the monk.)

3. Je te donne mon billet pour ça

This phrase means "I promise." It's a strong assurance, showing confidence and reliability in what one is saying.

Par exemple,

Je te donne mon billet que je serai là à l'heure demain matin.

(I give you my word that I will be there on time tomorrow morning.)

4. Ça tombe bien alors !/ Ça roule !

"Ça tombe bien alors !" means "That works out well!" It expresses convenience or luck. "Ça roule !" means "It's rolling!" It indicates that things are going smoothly or well. Both phrases convey positivity and contentment about the current situation or events.

Par exemple,

A : Tu as oublié ton parapluie, mais il ne pleut pas aujourd'hui. (You forgot your umbrella, but it's not raining today.)

B : Ça tombe bien alors ! / Ça roule ! (That works out well!)

5. Ne te tracasse pas / Ne te prends pas la tête !

Both phrases encourage a relaxed approach to situations. "Ne te tracasse pas" means "Don't worry about it," while "Ne te prends pas la tête" translates to "Don't overthink it." They advise against stressing or overanalyzing a situation.

Par exemple,

Tu as fait une petite erreur, mais ce n'est pas grave. Ne te tracasse pas./ Ne te prends pas le tête !  (You made a small mistake, but it's not a big deal. Don't worry about it.)

6. Arrondir ses fins de mois

This expression means "to make ends meet." It signifies the effort to supplement income or manage expenses effectively to cover necessary costs by the end of the month.

Par exemple,

Malgré les dépenses imprévues, ils arrivent toujours à arrondir leurs fins de mois grâce à leur budget strict.

(Despite unexpected expenses, they always manage to make ends meet thanks to their strict budget.)

7. Améliorer son ordinaire

To improve one's everyday life means making positive changes in routine or daily habits to enhance overall quality of life.

Par exemple,

Elle a décidé de commencer à faire de l'exercice régulièrement pour améliorer son ordinaire.  (She decided to start exercising regularly to improve her everyday life.)

8. Avoir un complément de revenu

This means "to have an additional source of income." It denotes having an extra or supplementary financial source, contributing to financial stability or flexibility.

Par exemple,

"Pour avoir un complément de revenu, il a décidé de travailler comme chauffeur de taxi le soir.

(To have an additional source of income, he decided to work as a taxi driver in the evenings.)

9. Augmenter ses ressources

This phrase means "to increase one's resources." It includes the idea of expanding available resources, such as finances, materials, or personal skills.

Par exemple,

Pour augmenter leurs ressources, ils ont décidé d'investir dans de nouvelles technologies et de former leur personnel.  (To increase their resources, they decided to invest in new technologies and train their staff to improve efficiency at work.)

10. Arrondir son portefeuille

This expression means "to increase one's money." It implies adding to one's financial reserves or having more money.

Par exemple,

En travaillant des heures supplémentaires ce mois-ci, j'ai réussi à arrondir mon portefeuille.

(Working overtime this month helped me boost my wallet.)

French idioms provide valuable insights into language and life, serving as cultural gems. By embracing these phrases, we enhance our language skills and connect with the richness of French culture. Let's keep using these vibrant expressions to deepen our understanding of both the language and its diverse cultural nuances.

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[underhousearrestblog]

Forever Mine pt.2 | R.C.

(summary) with dreading suspicion you realize that Rafe has come up with an elaborate plan to keep you his forever.

(warnings) blackmail, kidnapping, implied forced pregnancy

(pairings) dark!Rafe Cameron x reader

(genre) I have no idea anymore... Sexual tension with a smidge of plot?

(reminder) Y/N – your name

(also) usage of she/ her pronouns

HAPPY READING!

Once the pilot announced that you’ve landed and that everyone is free to leave, you looked around frantically for anyone to help you escape. For anything to defend yourself with. The rest of Camerons had apparently traveled in another section of the plane because you didn’t meet anyone else during the flight.

Your scared glance met self-assured eyes of your kidnapper. Rafe had apparently guessed your train of thought because self-satisfied smirk played on his lips.

He had spent the last hour pretending to care for your needs. At least you thought it was pretending. He had ordered enough food to feed his entire family and kept insisting that he is the one to feed you because “you can’t be trusted with your hands free”. As if you had anywhere to go on a plane.

Unknowingly to you, Rafe himself had enjoyed feeding you. Having you depending on him for basic needs. You, tied up, not being able to even take a sip of water. Bringing the bottle to your lips and making sure you drink enough to stay hydrated. He enjoyed feeding you more than he enjoyed eating the food himself.

- How are you going to explain to the staff that you have a screaming, unwilling girl on the plane?

You probably felt so smart at that moment, Rafe thought. You had no idea what money could buy.

Somewhere deep in his mind, he promised to show you. To show you the benefits of his money once you had accepted your fate. He promised to spoil you rotten. All in good time.

He knelt before you and unlocked the handcuffs. When he saw the red streaks they had left on your skin, his fingers absentmindedly started massaging the bruises. To your absolute surprise, he pulled your wrist to his lips and kissed it.

You let out a small gasp.

- The staff works for us, - he explained, looking up at you. – They won’t say a word. They won’t help you. Not unless they’re willing to die for it.

The apathy with what he said it quickly pulled you back to the image of Rafe that you knew oh so well. He didn’t care for anyone. You were certain that the moment he got bored of you, he would kill you and throw you into the ocean.

You needed to get away before that happened.

A quick thought of telling Wheezie came into your mind but just as quickly you threw it away. Wheezie was a child. A child Rafe could easily overpower. Ward was a given – he wouldn’t choose his son’s random hook-up over Rafe. That left Rose and you were sure about her too.

As if read your mind again, the man in front of you grinned.

- My family has much bigger things to deal with than a hysterical girl who is taken care of like she’s a princess...

You hated how easily he could read your mind. It bothered you to no end because sometimes you could do that to him too...

He reached around you, while still kneeling on the floor, and started untying your waist from the seat. Due to the length of your skirt, you felt and were basically naked from the waist down. You could feel his fingers stopping their work, as he put his face closer between your legs...

And then the psycho drew a deep breath into his lungs.

His eyes closed and a muscle in his jaw moved, as he clenched his teeth. When he opened his eyes, the pupils had dilated so much, his eyes were almost black.

- This turns you on, mhm? – he asked, continuing his task with the restraints around your waist. – I guess I wasn’t the only one who’s really into forced intimacy.

- You are fucking mental! – you lost your temper, standing up from your seat as soon as the rope no longer held you back. – I have a life! I have school and work and famil-

Family! While worrying sick about yourself, you had completely forgot about your mother. She’s going to die from worrying! She already had a heart condition and was anxious about everyone and anything since she lost your father. She’s not gonna survive you disappearing without a trace!

Rafe immediately noticed when the stubborn, hot-headed flame in your eyes changed into fear and guilt. And, as much as he wanted to pull you into his arms and give you comfort, the strategic, manipulative bastard that he was, he realized soon enough that you had given away your one weakness.

- You can call her, baby, - he spoke softly, trying to lure you into a false sense of safety. – You can tell your mother you took a spontaneous trip with your girlfriends. Calm her down.

You felt as if you were hyperventilating. Your heart pounded in your chest. You could hear blood in your ears.

Rafe gave into his desires and pulled you into his arms. Then he dragged both of you few steps back, until he could sit back in his seat and pull you into his lap. Burying his face into your hair, he tried to calm you before this turned into a panic attack.

Once your breaths were even again, he pulled away, still keeping you on his lap.

- There’s, of course, something I’ll need in return for that phone call.

Of-fucking-course.

- What do you want? – you tried to hide the tremble in my voice. – A blowjob?

He laughed, as if you had just told a funny joke. As if both of you were just two friends, on a vacation together, joking around.

- I wouldn’t refuse, baby, however I want that to be your decision, - he leaned back until the back of his head met the seat. – I want you to sleep with me.

For a moment, your temper overpowered the fear, as you rolled your eyes practically back into the skull. You immediately tried to pull your hands out of his much bigger ones, but his grasp wouldn’t budge.

- So much for my decision, - you murmured under my breath.

He didn’t seem irritated by this new flare of bravery. His eyes lazily traveled all over your face.

- Calm down, doll, - after a long pause, he said. – I won’t coerce you into sex. But I will have you in my bed tonight.

Your eyebrows furrowed, not understanding.

- You’re my girlfriend. We’re not sleeping separately. I’m not going to fuck you against your will but you will sleep in my room, in my bed, in my arms.

You couldn’t take his word for it, could you? He could still easily drug you, overpower you, manhandle you and fuck you, if he wanted to.

- Do we have a deal? – he raised an eyebrow, watching with interest your internal battle with yourself.

You thought about it.

- We sleep fully clothed and you stay on your side.

He chuckled.

- No.

- Fine, just fully clothed.

He actually seemed to think about it. After a second of hesitation, he slowly nodded.

- Fine, but you sleep in my clothes. It’s either that or you’re naked.

You realized that’s the best you could negotiate. You quickly nodded and tried to stand back up. He, seemingly ready for that, wrapped one of his arms around your middle and pushed you back down.

- We’ve landed. I’m sorry, baby, - with his other hand, he reached behind your back to retrieve something.

You were confused.

- Sorry for what?

When you looked into his eyes, they almost, almost, appeared guilty. He kissed you on the cheek and at that moment, you felt a sting in your neck.

- What the-

- I’m sorry, - he continued to apologize softly. – I’m sorry, baby. But you will try to escape me and I can’t have that.

He drugged you!

Again!

Your accusing eyes met his with so much anger. Too late you remembered that your anger, passion, irritation usually works as a turn-on for him. Seeing his lust-filled, almost black eyes, you knew that hadn’t changed.

- I promise you, sweetheart, - he pulled you into a resemblance of a hug, with your head resting against his shoulder. – I won’t do it again.

[cyborg-franky]

Happy Halloween!

This was my part of the server trade with my lovely @mikoyamisheadcanonblog please enjoy <3 your OC and Law fit together so perfectly.

Law x OC SFW Modern AU Word Count: 1,330

He hated parties and wasn’t really a fan of the sillyness that came with Halloween either. Shachi and Penguin had both clung to him and begged him to go with them, that despite how little Law contributed to a party atmosphere it just wouldn’t be the same without him!

Law knew the drill, he’d meet up with the pair, head to the party Luffy and his housemates were throwing, and as soon as there were cute girls he would be ditched, left alone to sulk in the kitchen with the rest of the single men, picking pitifully at plates of tacky Halloween themed snacks and nursing the same beer for a few hours until warm from being clutched in the palm of his hand.

But he did owe them, they got him out of a very awkward and annoying wedding invitation and a Halloween party could never be as awkward as being nagged into being a friend's platonic date to a wedding for two people he couldn’t give a shit about.

He was told to dress up, even given some ideas by Shachi and he rjected them all. Law simply dressed in his normal clothes, jeans, T-shirt, and a hoody, the only difference was he grabbed a cheap apron and covered it in blood.

When he rocked up to Shachi’s house the redhead shook his head and clicked his tongue looking at Law. “What are you meant to be?” He asked and Law shrugged as he watched Penguin, dressed as a zombie ambled towards him making zombie sounds with his arms stretched.

“Insane doctor.” He said simply and Shachi, dressed like a vampire, gave him quizicle eyebrow.

“You don’t look much different Law..” He sighed and locked the front door.

“Exactly,” 

—

Ash looked around the party, annoyed with the music, annoyed with the drunken idiots, and just done with the entire thing. She didn’t want to dress up or come out but she owed Nami a few bucks and Nami decided to take it from her in pacripaption.

She sighed a little and brushed down her skirt, wearing all black with a simple witch hat on her head, the most she wanted to get into the spirit of things, never a fan of Halloween and all the sillyness that came with it.

Still, she grabbed a drink and sat in the corner on a small sofa by herself and watched as everyone had a good time, a shadow of a smile on her lips, she at least liked seeing her friends have a good time.

The doorbell rang and Luffy threw himself through the crowd to open the door, swinging it open and seeing the three, grinning ear to ear and pulling them in with a big hug, not caring how displeased Law looked.

“Traffy! You look great!” He laughed and pulled Law into the house pushing him through the living room with Shachi and Penguin trailing after them with amused smirks,

Law was about to tell Luffy to stop when he saw a familler person from the corner of his eye, turning he saw Ash and he felt his heart skip a beat. They were friends and had met a few times but it was only ever at this forced get-togethers where neither wanted to be there but they’d been required to show up.

Ash watched as Law was dragged into the kitchen, more than likely being told by Franky that he was too skinny and needed to eat up while Luffy shoved more food into his mouth and tried to make conversation with Law through the food stuffed in his face.

Law soon came out, a beer in his hand, and managed to lose Luffy, he glanced around and was pleased to see Ash was still sitting where he’d caught sight of her before. He walked over, catching her attention, those beautiful eyes and long lashes flicked up from her phone and focused on his, he swallowed the lump in his throat and watched her adjust.

“Can I sit?” He asked, feeling awkward as she nodded.

He normally had this confidence, this nonchalant air but the feelings that were always stirred when he’d spend time with her, well they weren’t what Law was used to, he struggled to comprehend and process but he was happy when she smiled at him, and nodded.

“Did you get dragged here too?” She asked as she watched him sit, sigh and nod at her question.

She liked Law, he was always nice to spend time with, and they sometimes exchanged messages, a friend of a friend sort of thing though she dearly wanted to be more. The time they spent in one another's company was always enjoyable and they seemed to click.

The only time she ever heard him laugh was when they were together.

“Shachi?” A nod. “Nami got me, I owed her.”

Law chuckled, a wonderful sound to her ears, the low timber, and pleasant rumble as he leaned back on the sofa. “Yeah, always is and that’s unfortunate, she’s a real witch, you could owe her a dollar and she’d bleed you dry for a favor.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders.

They both sat there in comfortable silence, both with small smiles on their faces, giving one another shy glances before he took a breath and turned to face her, he started talking about various things, asking what she'd been up to.

He wasn’t a big talker but he wanted to get to know her, he wanted to be in her life as more than just a fleeting glance, a text here and there when the season dictated, causal happy holidays! Or Happy new year! He wanted more, he desired depth in their friendship.

Maybe he wanted more than a friendship. The way she looked at him, her eyes looking him over, checking him out but mostly meeting his eye, she was never put off by his cold demeanor nor did she try to change it. There was no push or pull but simply a calm flow between them.

As the night went on, he rejected invites to games from Shachi, as she told Nami she wasn’t interested in gossip, they both avoided anything that would take them from one another's company. They spoke of many things, getting into so many topics and real thoughts and they were so compatible, just like Law had thought.

“Hey, do you really want to be here or would you like to get out of here?” He asked and her face lit up, a nod and a smile on her painted lips as she stood and offered her hand to him, which he took.

They managed to sneak away from the crowd, dodging any attempt at unwanted interactions, managing to sneak out onto the balcony, they sat on the bench, strewn with fake webs and string lights shaped like pumpkins and bats.

“It's nice out here,” Ash said with a sigh and sipped her drink, looking out at the moon in the sky, the sparkling stars that twinkled above them.

“I can still hear the shitty music,” Law said with a gruff chuckle as he glanced at her, she nodded in agreement, a small laugh, such a soft sound. He found he adored it and longed to draw more from her.

“So, I think we need to make plans to meet up more often.” He said, not looking at her, just watching the sky, feeling her shuffle closer.

“I agree, maybe something that doesn't involve a costume or everyone else getting drunk around us?” She suggested and stared at the sky with him.

“Yeah, I was thinking maybe tomorrow? We could perhaps get a coffee or something?” He asked and Ash could tell there was a hopeful tone in his voice which caused her to smile.

“Sounds great, it’s a date then Trafalgar.” 

He turned to her, meeting her gaze, and nodded, smiling brighter than he had in a while. 

[unknownunidentified101]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 嫉妬

❝ your mine okay? and don’t you forget it ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

never the type to get jealous easily 

i think it would depend on the type of person, so long as your not giving them so much attention 

but when his actually jealous, expect yandere mode

would hug from behind or pull you in a side hug as a greeting to “ them “ 

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦ ◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦ ◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦ ◦◦,`° ◦◦

You were in the streets of the lovely Liyue, days like this were a rarity, so you took time to enjoy it as much as you could, your job was not easy afterall 

“ girlie?! is that you?” someone called at the docks you pasted 

You turn your head to the source of the voice and saw the ginger head with a grinning and cunning smile that was never forgettable 

He waved and you pouted 

“ i was just about to enjoy my day” you said crossing your arms to add to the pouting 

“c’mon, you missed me” Childe said as he opened his arms wide to you 

you smiled and ran into his arms as he giggled and turned you around in a circle like a princess, he always found a way to make you feel special 

“ i haven’t seen you in so long, like a month?” you said as you stayed in the hug, the crowd around you were deaf and blind to your features 

“ i thought i was going to stay on my misson for much longer but i requested a day off” Childe laughed and put you down 

“ how cruel is this world!?!?” you said as you walked hand in hand with the fatui harbinger 

“very cruel, oh and here sweetie” Childe gave you a box that he hid 

“ why? you have to save some money at least” you said as you knew it was likely going to be expensive knowing Childe’s riches 

“it reminded me of you” Childe smiled as you opened the box to reveal a beautiful necklace 

“oh you didn’t have to-”

“shhhh, i’m rich, just take it” Childe silenced you with a finger to your lips 

Your face drops, “ thank you so much” you sighed as you kissed his cheek as a language of thanks

After that however, you two walked again on your path, talking about any updates, until Childe spots something and stops in his tracks 

“childe?” you ask as he admires a little stall

He looks back at you and smiles

“girlie, wait here, i will be back!” he said as he kissed your cheeks and parted 

You nod as you watch him go to the stall

Sighing you wait in your spot until you see a familer figure 

“ wait [r/n]!?!” you instantly shout in shock 

Their figure looks at you and smiles

“ ah [y/n]! how have you been!” they walk to you 

[r/n] was your ex, you two were together but drifted apart but always remained the best of friends but after not seeing eachother for a while you wanted to catch up 

“ fancy meeting you here!” they chimed 

you laughed, “ you too? how have you been?” you said with a smile plastered on your face 

You two continued to chat unaware someone was burning eyes at you two

You were lost in the conversation until you felt a hand around your shoulder 

You look to see Childe with a smile that was a bit too high 

“ hey who’s this baby?” He coos as he looks at the person in front of you up and down 

You smile, “ [r/n], this is my boyfriend, Childe, Childe this is my ex, were friends now” you present 

[r/n] nods and waves and you could of sworn you saw them gulp in fear 

You look back at Childe who kept the same smile, something didn’t feel right and the tension definitely rose 

“ um [y/n], nice catching up with you i have to g-o” they said and waved quickly 

“oh no problem, see you again!” you smiled and waved before they slipped away a bit too quickly 

You looked at Childe who’s face never changed, you glance at his hands which now were gripped very tightly 

“Childe, you ok?” You asked as you pointed at his hands 

Childe snapped out of his thoughts and looked at you with a soft smile that lowered a little 

“ of course [y/n] just next time your alone with them, tell me yeah?” 

“why, they’re my friends...unless your..jealous!” you said teasingly

“ maybe a little” Childe said as he ruffled his hair and admited to your statment 

You laugh and kiss his cheek but he moves so you ended up on his soft lips 

After an instense and sore lip session, you parted after forever 

“ your mine alright? don’t forget that”

[kaariqueen]

Could I send a request? I love both Michael Myers and Jason Voorhees so much. Would it be alright if I had a one shot with some fluff with one of them? I can’t decide who, so, you pick! I love them both, it doesn’t matter! Thank you so much if you do it! :)

Thank you for being the first to request anything and I as well love the two tall beffy slasher and don't be afraid to ask for more then one charter. ^^

Quick note: in my headcannons Micheal and Jason never talk so sorry about that, so the blod sentence will be sign language from them speaking; and as well I'm not sure which Micheal you wnated so I went with RZ since he would be the most affectionate out the three, this is my first so hope you enjoy!

Micheal myers

The timer went off as I rushed from the couch to the kitchen to get the cookies out of oven. I looked at the time and smiled gently

12:35 a.m

Micheal usually gets home around one but I'm always asleep so hopefully If i stay up I'll might be able to convince him to wash up and actually sleep in the bed for onec instead of crashing on the couch or floor.

I set them on the counter and put the next batch in. I set a timer and went back to reading my book and sipped on my (preferred drink) after a couple of mins and sfoping myself from dozing off I heard the timer chimed. I put my book and made my way to the kitchen where I took the cookies out let cool down then put them in a deep red pan I let Micheal pick out when we I was doing onlie shopping.

I wwnt to the living room and sat on the long couxh and turn on the tv wagvhing it as waiting for micheal.

"Ten mins if my timing was right"

I yawn and shook my head trying to stay up as I watch the tv not paying attention to the screen. Then i felt my eyes closing forgetting what my original plan was.

I felt myself be lifted as I look up to see the familer white lifeless mask.

"You can put me down I can walk to the be- wait follow me"

I hold my hand out waiting to see if he'll take it. I felt his rough large hands meet my soft tiny hands. I smiled as I pulled him into the kitchen and went to the counter. I pulled out the red metal pan and gave it.

"I made you cookies, but you can only have then IF you change clothes and please sleep in the bed it can be the guest bed but I just wnat you to sleep in a bed please"

His dark eyes stare at my sould as he made no sign of emotions making me wonder if i pushed if to far. He raised his hands slowly then signed.

"Fine"

I grinned as we went into the living room and he ate his cookies as I watched the tv drifting asleep again. I felt myself being liffed ignoring it intill I felt a diffeent texfure;my bed he layed me down Ilifted up he was changed and look like he was baouf to take off his mask.

I looked away quick, I seen he put it back on and sat down on the side of my bed as the bed dipped some from his masive weight.

"Micheal-?"

I felt myself being dragge closer to the male blushing as it wasnt often he would even be close to me. He look at me titled his head and signed.

"Close your eyes"

I did as he told trusting him which I couldn't tell if that was a dumb move or not knowing if he wnated he could kill me.

I felt myself be settle in what i belived was his lap; and heard some movment of him taking his mask off. He grabbed my hand and put it on his cheeks as a gasp sotly of the slight stubble on his jaw but the genral sharpness. Then I felt his breath on my mouth. He was so close I felt like I could tasfe him as I felt even more flustered.

"M-michea-"

I didnt finish the sentence before I felt a pair of cold and chapped lips on mine making me gasp i to the kiss. His hands rested awkwardly on my hips. You could tell this was his frist real kiss he wasnt sure what to do but It was enough for you.

You grinned into the kiss and pulled aways to press y'all forhead togetger eyes still close. You hear movement which you guessed was him putting his mask on. As much as you want to beg him to keep it off you knew you might never get him to take it off agian if you pushed it.

I felt cold hand tap my eye lids as I open then to see the white mask again and smiled.

"Are you gonna go sleep?"

He didn't answer as he pulled me ontop of his chest and awkwardly petted my hair. I softly sighed with a goofy grin on my face as I slowly driffed to sleep.

"Good night Micheal"

He tapped my arm twice as a way of saying good night.

Jason Voorhees

I found myself getting ditched by my 'friends' at camp crystal lake to be honest not even remembering why I aggred to come. I walked through the dark forset intill I heard a scream coming from the main camp. I seen two of my 'friends' head fowards the lake l followed behind then confused.

"Marci, Daniel whats happening"

They both stared at me in horror, was it that bad? Then i see how Daniel angeld his head upwards behind me. Someones behind me arnt they...

I was gonna turn around when Daniel tripped me and Marci pushed my onto the ground as they ran back into the forset.

I was about to land fast first when J felt myself being stoped I was lifted vy no other Jason Voorhees i was scared yet flusterd at the kind act.

"T-thank you"

He tilted his head before nodding then carrying me. I felt no need to scream or holler as that would be a waste of my breath if he was gonna kill me. We made it to a more runed down cabin futher away from the other cabins as he sat me down on a worn out couch.

He hold his hand up and pointed at me before the ground.

"Stay?"

He nodded yes before leaving.

"Are you coming back!?"

I shouted quickly.

He nodded and left and what sounded like a locking sound.

I was confused so i layed on the couch as i try to sleep, but then I heard screaming. Alot of screaming I whimperd a bit but just hugged myself as I waited for it to stop.

After a while I hear someone tryi g to open the door being scared I grabbed the closes object near me. I see the door open slowly holding the used wood plank, but only see jason.

I dropped the planked and walked to the tall man I hugged him as I felt the zombie man stiffen and stuffily pat my head.

"Thank you for saving me from such assholes"

He nodded and we sat on the couch talking... Well me ralking and jason making slight hand movment as response.

I was gwtting tired so I got closer to the giant soft zombie and layed my head on his arm and fell asleep happy with the new friend I made today.

(I felt like they were both short I'm sorry about that TvT. I wrote this as soon as I saw your request and Its 3 in the morning so mind empty but if you have any more request please send them in!^^ @tinyslasher)

[angeli-marco-writes]

Bill and Fleur - Our Spot

A/N - I do not own these characters, this is a work of fiction. Fleur is an absolute darling and I absolutely adore her. Please enjoy this cuteness despite the awful writing from my wattpad. It was fun to write in my two best languages as well, even if the French is just in bits.

Warnings - mentions of other character death, fluff, bad English and French for 1.6k words. 

Summary - After the final task, Fleur finds herself in despair, and goes to the only spot she can think of to unwind, not expecting to be approached by a handsome stranger.

AFTER CEDRIC'S DEATH and the events of the maze, Fleur could be found in a hidden corner of the Hogwarts grounds that she'd discovered in her time there. She didn't realise anyone else went over there, until she heard footsteps. She didn't really want to be found, she was heartbroken and kind of traumatised. Inside that maze she'd encountered terrors that she never thought could be real.

She looked up, still wearing her blue velvet tracksuit in the faint moonlight mingling with remaining sunlight, and was met with the strikingly handsome ginger gentleman that she'd marvelled at in the stands, and in the relatives room much earlier on.

"Fleur is it? Are you ok?" he asked softly, going up to her and crouching next to her sitting figure. She wiped her eyes instinctively of mascara mingled tear tracks, even though they'd been dry for a while and met his eyes, nodding.

"Yes, I am ok merci. Cedric dying just upset me. Sorry, my Eenglish is not good. Comment t'appelle tu?" She spoke gently, seeing the man sit down next to her in the grass.

"Je m'appelle Bill. Nice to properly meet you." He held her hand gently and kissed it gently, making her chuckle a little but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "I don't speak much French, but I speak enough to get me through a conversation. and your English isn't too bad." He winked, causing her to smile again.

"I'm so sorry zat you found me here. I'm a mess, covered een mud!" She insisted, pointing to the patches of tried mud and blood stains all over her pale tracksuit, but Bill kept his grip on her hand firmly, so she let it happen, intertwining her fingers with his.

"You're beautiful you know?" He murmured after a moment of silence, making her flush a little despite constantly receiving compliments on her looks. She was startled also at how forward he was, and she felt special, like he really saw her. "I know you're part Veela, I can tell, and my brother said so... but it's not just that. You're beautiful even when you're dishevelled and muddy." He chuckled. "And you were so brave to take on that tournament. as soon as I saw you in the chamber and I saw your eyes, and then I saw you outside the maze and I was rooting for you despite Harry basically being my brother." he continued and she laughed a little.

"You should not 'ave looked at me before ze maze. Your handsomeness distracted me." a coy smirk began playing on her lips. She moved her spare hand up to brush some stray red hair off his face and tuck it behind his pierced ear.

She couldn't help but revel in him, despite her own good looks. He was tall and muscular, freckled with piercing blue eyes and a warm smile. He had quite long fiery red hair which was tied at the base of his neck in a little pony tail which suited him, as well as the fang dangling from his ear. Fleur had never felt this way about anyone before, she'd never been nervous around a guy due to her Veela heritage, but that didn't matter here. Despite only knowing him a short time, she felt that Bill could see who she really was beyond her billowing silvery blonde hair, perfect good looks and terrifying anger.

"You wanna talk about any of it? I don't have to get home for a bit, I was just visiting Harry in the hospital wing with mum, and before you ask, he's fine." He said, seeing the sorrow in her eyes, and she nodded. Bill sat down on the ground and pulled her velvet covered legs into his lap, allowing her to be comfortable.

"I feel like I failed me and my school in zis tournament. I did not complete ze second task in le... le lac. Ron et Harry saved ma Gabrielle. Et I messed up in ze maze, bringing shame on Beauxbatons et Madame Maxime. C'est mon année finalement, I wanted time to do somesing special and I failed. And Cedric-" She paused, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "We were friends, ze four of us. Because of this task. And now 'e is gone. I'm so sad he's been killed." 

A lump began forming at the back of her throat and all her pent up emotions from the past year were being released. Bill could somehow tell that she'd be shunned if she showed this emotion to her classmates or headmistress, so he let her cry it all out, wrapping a reassuring arm around her.

"Fleur, you didn't fail your school. You performed admirably in this tournament. It's designed to test you and put you out of your depths ok? Quite literally in that second task, and no one blames you. You were an admirable champion and you've brought glory to your school in your final year, that's nothing to be ashamed of. And Cedric. I know you were friends, Harry wrote to me. Cedric lived in the same village as my family, I saw him growing up; the same year as my brother-" He began, but was cut off by a confused expression from Fleur.

"Your brother eez en Harry's year, non?" She asked with a bemused face, perfectly illuminated in the moonlight, and he laughed, having to gather himself before continuing. He held her legs closer to him, absently drawing shapes on her joggers, but she didn't mind.

"I have five brothers and a sister," He said, and her jaw dropped in response. "There's me, I'm 24, Charlie's 22, Percy's 18, Fred and George are in 6th year here so they're 17, Ron is in Harry's year so 15 now, and Ginny my sister is a year below Ron, she's 13."

Even after he finished, Fleur still looked astonished.  She was admittedly a little awestruck, and it took her a while to speak, to find the words. Bill couldn't care less, he could sit with this beautiful young woman in his old spot under the stars forever.

"You 'ave a grande famille!" She said and he chuckled to himself, their oceans of eyes connecting and forming a bond. "It's just me and ma soeur Gabrielle, she eez almost ten." Her heart seemed to glow as well as her cheeks when thinking of her sister, and Bill could instantly tell they were close.

"Family's amazing isn't it? I want a family of my own one day, just maybe not with seven kids..." he said playfully, and her tears subsided, leaving her able to just enjoy his presence.

"It's ok that you're sad about Cedric, you know, a lot of people are, and you'll be able to go to his funeral. But the ones that love us never really leave us do they?" She nodded, a smile meeting her eyes this time. "There's that gorgeous smile. I know I only saw it at the start of the task and I've only known you, what a day? Properly, less than an hour, but your smile is wonderful." He marvels at her perfect pearly white teeth and her dusty pink lips. 

He didn't mind that she was donning a dirt covered tracksuit with mud and blood on her face, he didn't mind that her hair was messy and held together by a breaking hair bobble, he didn't mind that they didn't speak the same language or that she'd just cried to him. Bill just enjoyed her company and honestly never wanted their meeting to end.

"So, when school ends, what are you gonna do?" He inquired, breaking the silence and pulling Fleur in closer to him, she happily agreed and nuzzled her head in his neck.

"I'm working at Gringotts 'opefully, maybe just in a shop, to make my Eenglish better. Just for ze summer." She smiled before asking him a variation of the same question and seeing his eyes light up.

"I'm a curse breaker for Gringotts!" He grinned, and she joined him, her cheeks beginning to ache. "I was working in Egypt, but now things are getting bad here, I'm gonna work at the main building in England. Guess I'll be seeing you at work then." He teased and nudged her lovingly which she thought was more than amiable.

"You will 'ave to 'elp me," she gazed up at him with wide eyes and he nodded almost immediately in agreement.

"Anytime..." he murmured, their faces getting closer until their lips were inches from one another. "We shouldn't do this. we'll be working together and I'm years older than you." 

He tried to reason his desire, but couldn't even convince himself as their lips met in a lustful kiss. Their lips moved in unison, understanding one another, and they didn't dare let go until they couldn't breathe.

"Madame Maxime will want me at ze carriage now. Eet was nice to meet you, Bill Weasley." She blushed as she stood up and scrambled away, the moonlight reflecting off her hair, but Bill hurried after her and caught her wrist.

"Here." He said, slipping a hair bobble on her wrist. "Yours is about to break, and I know how often they go missing. A token to remember me by, until I see you next month of course." He flushed himself, his cheeks matching his hair, as she stood on her tiptoes to plant a kiss to his cheek.

"Fleur Isabelle Delacour. I come to England on ze 10th of July."

And with that, she ran off into the starry distance, he could see her small frame turn into a faint shadow as he smiled to himself. Maybe it wasn't so bad that someone found his old spot, maybe it was their spot now.

[shireness-says]

I have yearned for you (and I still do)

Summary: “There’s an irony, she thinks, to the situation they find themselves in now - he, the man who has it all together, and her, an increasingly hot mess.” Sometimes the things you need are right back where you started from. ~10.6k. Rated T for language. Also on Ao3. 

~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: For @welllpthisishappening​, who doesn’t want to talk about the revival, and @snidgetsafan​, who does. Behold: my pining-type thoughts! Thanks for your patience and encouragement as I stressed over this instead of working on my WIPs. 

Post-revival, if that’s an issue for anyone. Title from a Frank Turner song yet again, because that’s how I roll. Extra thanks to L for her beta skills.

Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jess is the one who comes up with her name. In retrospect, that was probably a sign.

Actually, that’s not entirely true. From the moment the sonogram tech had announced congrats, it’s a girl , it had kind of been a done deal that she would be another Lorelai. Something something tradition. But with the reigning Lorelai still alive and well and so obviously having dibs on the full name, it’d been obvious that some sort of nickname was going to come into play. 

There’d been a suggestion box in the diner after no small amount of twisting Luke’s arm, suggestions of how the heck they were supposed to shorten Lorelai, and then a follow-up poll of the options Rory had actually liked (because she was not calling the kid “Loreo, like Oreo!”, thank you, Cesar). It’d been nice, actually, and a good way to channel the collective energy of the denizens of Stars Hollow without being stopped on the street every three minutes when her feet already hurt like hell. 

Anyways. In the polling, “Elle” had won, and Rory had actually really liked it. Something the kiddo had a chance to grow into - feminine, delicate yet strong, a name that would fit a little girl or a grown adult. And, c’mon - in the Gilmore household, they’ve always liked Legally Blonde anyways. There’s worse role models than Reese Witherspoon being unapologetically herself. 

But. 

The thing is, as much as Rory had though it was cute back when the kid was an unrealized idea, just a little mooch taking her energy and appetite for normal things, it’s a very different thing to hold her baby for the first time - her tiny girl, here and screaming and with wisps of the softest blonde hair. And she just can’t do it. It feels too on the nose, to call this little blonde baby Elle - like she’s about to doom this tiny person to a lifetime of not being taken seriously. She deserves better than that. 

She doesn’t go nameless; it’s easy to fill out the birth certificate Lorelai Richard Gilmore , even if the nurse casts a funny look at the choice of middle name. She’s never been a staunch traditionalist anyways, and Rory had wanted to honor her grandfather regardless if the baby had been a boy or a girl. He would have loved having a great-granddaughter to spoil in the way he and Grandma had been denied when she was a baby - and besides, even if Emily shakes her head about the unconventional choice, it makes her smile fondly too. 

Still - there’s a difference between what someone is named and what someone is called, and the latter for the youngest Lorelai is still a great big question mark. Rory runs back through the list of runners up, but nothing fits .

“I was supposed to have this figured out by now,” she whines to Jess when he drops by to visit and meet the baby. He’s been a huge help as she tries to write her book, and after years of awkward “what the hell even are we”, Rory feels like they’re finally back in a good place, back to being friends. She likes being friends, like him being one of her people again, even if the 2nd trimester horniness and wanting to jump his bones never really went away. But she’s not really in a place to think about that right now. “Aren’t I supposed to be able to just, like, look at her and know what her destined name is supposed to be?”

“Yes, because motherhood automatically grants mystical powers,” he replies wryly. “I think that whole thing is a myth, Gilmore.”

He looks good holding a baby - surprisingly comfortable too. It makes her realize, not for the first time, that he built himself a whole life she doesn’t know about while she ran around the world, trying to figure out what would make her happy - a life with a business and a purpose and probably friends with kids. Not at all the boy she met more than a decade ago. 

(It is something she tries not to focus too much on, for fear of where it might lead - to the realization that she may not really know him at all, or more dangerously, the realization that she wants to.)

“Ivy,” he says out of nowhere. “You should call her Ivy.”

“Ivy?” It hadn’t been one of the names any suggested before, but in a weird way, it fits. Something soft and strong and neutral, a name that could become anything. A name she can make her own.

“Yeah. I mean, she’s Lorelai the fourth, right? Lorelai the fourth. Lorelai I-V. Ivy.”

And it’s - well, the name is so right, but the logic behind it is so Jess. Because he’s always been clever like that - not even aware that there’s a box he’s thinking outside of. She likes, too, that now that he’s made the suggestion, he doesn’t try to backtrack or explain anything away, try to tell her she doesn’t have to listen. He knows she knows that. Jess has never been one to fill a silence just because it exists.

“I like that,” she finally says. “Ivy Gilmore.”

“Then congratulations - it’s a name.”

———

Telling Logan had been hard - harder than making herself take the test, harder than telling her mom. Because they’re not an item anymore, you know? They’ve gone their separate ways, ended whatever dynamic they’ve had going the last couple of years, and under normal circumstances, it would be easier to keep her distance. No contact, end it all firmly and definitively and for good .

A baby complicates that, and throws that possibility straight out the window.

She can’t really say she’s disappointed in Logan’s response, not when it plays out pretty much exactly the way Rory assumed it would. Nothing changes; they don’t get back together, and he doesn’t leave the French heiress. Rory isn’t certain she’d want either of those things anyways. He’d offered to support her in whatever decision she made, and that was more or less it. He’s never been great with emotions, and having a kid doesn’t show signs of changing that. 

(Rory hadn’t expected him to be a hands-on partner in this - not even remotely - but it still aches, knowing this is the beginning of what will be a pattern in their child’s life.)

Now, all these months later, Rory texts him a picture from the hospital once the parade of visitors has gone home. Even in the midst of that disappointment, he deserves to know.

Lorelai Richard Gilmore IV. 7 lbs, 2 oz. We’re calling her Ivy.

His reply comes through a half hour later. Congrats, Ace - she’s beautiful, just like her mother. 

(She’ll never admit it later - but when she receives his response, it takes everything in her not to cry.) 

———

It’s nerve-wracking, bringing Ivy home from the hospital and back to her mom’s house - like Rory shouldn’t be trusted to leave with such precious cargo. The hospital had been safe , and the big wide world out there feels full of dangers as she carefully steps out into the June sunshine, the baby carrier in hand. It’s this moment, of all times, that makes Rory feel like a parent for the first time - like it’s her sole job to protect and nurture this tiny person that she made.

Lorelai and Luke’s is just a temporary stopping place, just until Rory can get her feet beneath her in this whole motherhood thing. It’s terrifying, knowing that she’ll have to be doing this on her own soon enough. She’s taken the classes and read countless books and websites, but it’s a very different thing once you’re handed a tiny, wrinkly baby and are expected to figure it out. 

“How did you do it?” she asks her mom that first night, sitting in the kitchen together while Ivy nurses and Luke’s asleep upstairs. “I mean, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, and I’m in my thirties. You were sixteen .”

“I did it because I had to, babe,” her mom replies, reaching across the table to tuck a lock of hair back behind Rory’s ear. “I knew I wanted to give you the best life I could, so… I had to figure it out. Looking back now, Mom and Dad would have helped, and they tried, but I didn’t want that. I mean, we’re okay-ish now, but I didn’t want you growing up under the same pressure I did. So I went out and figured it out because I had to. You were the making of me, kiddo. And I’ll tell you now - that kid’s going to change you in ways you can’t even imagine now. And it’ll all be worth it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I look at you every day, and I’m so proud - and I made that. Pretty cool, huh? And each day as she gets older, you’re going to get to do that too. You’ll figure this out. I know you will. You’re going to be a great mom.”

By the time Lorelai is done, Rory feels tears trying to form in her eyes. Something something hormones. “Thanks, mom.”

“Anytime, hon.”

———

She’s living in Luke’s old apartment above the diner. It’s the illusion of independence - it doesn’t feel like she’s living with her mother any more, especially now that she’s got a kid of her own, but she’s not paying rent either (no matter how much she had offered). The truth of the matter is that, except for Ivy’s things, she’s living out of boxes. There hadn’t been any sense to staying in New York, not when her income stream is so up in the air; besides, as much as Rory had loved the city for herself, she isn’t sure she’d want to raise her daughter there. Stars Hollow may be a bit loony, like a place out of a YA coming-of-age novel, but there’d been love in every single corner. She’d wanted that for Ivy, even when she was just two lines on a test stick - to grow up with this whole zany extended family. Rory’s own blood family is tiny, and even if Logan was eager to be involved, his isn’t much bigger; Ivy can use all the proto-aunts and -uncles and -grandparents she can gather. 

(Rory does feel some guilt on the rent front, but Luke wouldn’t hear of it. He’d waved it off in that grumpy way of his, some excuse about being too old to have a crying infant disturbing their sleep in the Queen Anne where Rory had grown up, but she remembers the way Luke had once called her a little bit his . This is his way of quietly looking after his grown almost-daughter - and looking at it like that, there’s no way she’d turn down the offer.)

(She knows for certain it’s all an excuse after Ivy is born, when Luke turns into every inch the doting grandfather, bouncing and cooing at the baby every time she expresses even the mildest displeasure. Too old for crying infants , her ass.)

The apartment is the same as ever, from the block letters on the door to the dark wood furniture inside. Honestly, it looks like the only thing Luke has updated in the past decade was replacing the refrigerator, and Rory doubts that was just on a whim. There’s a comfort to that same-ness - of knowing that some things never change, and don’t have to. She has so many memories up here, especially from that period when she and Jess had been dating. The blankets on the spare bed are different now - lavender and spring green for April, instead of the bachelor plaids Luke had scrounged up when Jess had moved in - but the couch is the same, and the kitchen table where they’d pretended to study, and the tiny closet of a bathroom where she’d try desperately to straighten her hair before heading home. A simpler time, in some ways - but a more complicated one too. Rory had been the town princess then, the perennial good girl , and for all of his brains and sarcastic charm, Jess had been a mess in many ways. Now, things are a bit more grey - where Rory doesn’t quite have her act together, and Jess is the one with a life and a career and a calling. She’s proud of him in so many ways, but it leaves her feeling off balance, and as much of that is about her own adrift state, there’s no denying that part of it is about this unexpected reversal. So much will never change in Stars Hollow - but somehow, this has. 

———

Logan finally comes stateside, to Stars Hollow, when Ivy is a little over five weeks old. 

They meet at the Dragonfly, because it seems the most neutral spot. Lorelai may have capital-o Opinions, but she’ll keep them to herself if Rory asks, and it’s still better than pulling him through the diner up to the apartment, where overprotective townies will glare and Kirk might try to challenge him to a duel for her honor or something. No one ever knows with Kirk. 

Logan meeting Ivy is… he makes all the right moves in the moment, you know? He smiles and bounces her and looks at her like some sort of precious mystery. But Rory can see too, already, from years of experience, that he’s got the makings of another Christopher. As much as she knows that he’ll love the kid they made, and do his best to take care of her, he’s not ready, and Rory can’t force him to be. Even in his thirties, Logan has a lot of growing up to do. 

“I went ahead and set up a fund for her college,” he makes sure to say before he departs, flying out of Boston that very afternoon to take care of some business in LA, “but you’ll let me know if she needs anything, right Ace? Or if you do?”

“I promise. Scout’s honor, cross my heart.”

“She really is beautiful, Rory. Thanks for this - letting me be a part of it.”

And then, before she knows it, he’s gone.

(She’ll never regret the times they were together, not when it brought her their daughter, but Ivy has made it all too obvious why they never would have lasted. Rory has long since stopped wondering what things would have been like if she had said yes, all those years ago when Logan had proposed. This is proof enough - a life spent hoping for something he’s not willing or able to give, and watching him climb onto an airplane over and over again.)

(In some moments, Rory almost thinks Logan’s absence is for the best when she remembers the utter horror that is his family - the way his mother doesn’t care about anything but her creature comforts, and Mitchum doesn’t care about anything but himself and his impossible standards. Rory may feel guilty about it, but sometimes, she’s relieved that Logan’s absence means that Ivy will never have to face their condescension the way Rory had to with Straub and Francine. It is a small blessing to be found in the tragedy that she’s afraid Logan’s involvement, and lack thereof, will turn into.)

When Jess comes by later to talk about the book and probably watch a movie, he finds her crying in the kitchen, trying to keep quiet so as not to wake Ivy. He pulls her into his arms seemingly without a second thought, and Rory lets herself melt into the hug, just for the moment. 

“It’s leftover hormones,” she tries to excuse, but they both know better. They’re both products of absentee fathers, after all, both know the ways that can shape a child. Jess knows full well what happened today; it’s probably why he’s here tonight, to pull her from the worst of her self pity. They both know her tears aren’t for herself, for the death of a relationship that’s long since ended; they’re for Ivy, and a relationship that maybe won’t start. 

“She won’t be alone,” he makes sure to tell her once Rory’s calmed down enough to be rational. “I mean, even beyond you and your mom and Emily, there’s Luke and Lane’s husband and a whole host of other guys who can step up. Hell, Kirk in all his weird glory has probably got some qualification to adopt her. And you know I’ll be here, as long as you want me to be.”

“Yeah?” Rory’s throat is still clogged, but she’ll take it as a win that she didn’t sniffle. It’s too significant a moment to mar that way. 

“What can I say, she’s cute enough to hold my attention.”

“You always were a sucker for a Gilmore,” she laughs, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Yeah, well, someone’s got to make sure you’re aware vegetables exist.”

And just like that, even as Rory’s tears are still dissipating, the mood is lifted into safer territory. That’s Jess, though, isn’t it? All that emotion, hidden behind a front of sarcasm. After all of the mistakes of his youth, he’s grown into a man people can count on; he’s proved that these last couple years, as Rory has found herself floundering.

They’ll be lucky to have him in their lives.

———

After that last night on the town with Logan and his friends, Rory expected to never see any of the members of the Life and Death Brigade again. They’ve had their fun together, over the years; Rory will certainly never forget all the crazy shenanigans they all got up to together. But as much as she’s enjoyed their time together, those have always been more Logan’s friends than her own. 

It comes as a surprise, then, when all of them - Finn and Colin and Robert, the three musketeers or three amigos - all make a point to call and text and, eventually, drop by. They’re a little fascinated by the baby, this sudden proof that someone in their sphere really has grown up. As nervous as it makes her at first, to let these crazy, careless men sit in the diner and take a turn carefully holding Ivy, it’s cute and funny to see the way they handle her like some kind of unknown, volatile science experiment. 

It’s funny, really, how differently they all react to the various daddy issues in their life. With Logan, it’s made him eager to live up to Mitchum’s impossible standards, no matter how much he tries to claim otherwise. With the rest of the Brigade, it’s somehow had the opposite effect. They all run away from responsibility whenever it gets too close, and Rory isn’t remotely in denial about that, but they’re somehow desperate to love and be loved, too, all of them. They’ll never be the guys she calls for babysitting, not if she wants Ivy back in one piece, but Rory thinks they could be the fun uncles instead - not a constant presence in Ivy’s life, but the kind of figures who will send a dozen roses and maybe a singing telegram to a kindergarten graduation or gift an impractical car for her sixteenth birthday.

(And in the empty space Logan seems determined to leave - Rory will take whatever she can get.)

———

Jess has been around a lot more than Rory anticipated, really. It’s not that he’s stayed away from Stars Hollow in past years; his life may be based in Philadelphia now, what with Truncheon and all, but she knows he’s made a point to drive up a couple of times a year to see Luke and Liz and his little sister, Doula. Since Rory’s come back to town, though, he seems to be around at least once a month - checking in, offering support with the book or anything else, and generally being a friend. It’s not something Rory’s particularly inclined to question, happy just to have him back in her life, but it doesn’t go unnoticed, either. 

“He’s been around a lot,” Luke comments pointedly. “Know anything about that?”

“He’s helping with the book,” Rory explains wearily. It’s an explanation she’s made a lot of times, to a lot of people, though she never figured Luke - level-headed Luke, who usually runs from gossip and emotions like an Olympic sprinter - would be one of them. 

“Whatever you say, Rory.”

Only the delivery of her burger had stopped a full-blown debate - something Luke had likely known. You don’t live with a Gilmore Girl for a decade without picking up a few tricks. 

(She’s trying not to read too much into it - the way he keeps showing up to sit in an empty desk at the Gazette office and listen to her talk until she works out her own writing blocks - but others apparently don’t have that same compunction. Then again, Luke has never been called subtle .)

By the time Ivy is born, Rory thinks the book is maybe two-thirds of the way done, thanks in large part to Jess’ encouragement. At least halfway, for sure. It’s a different kind of writing than she’s used to, after years of news articles and five-page magazine spreads, but it’s the good kind of challenge. There are days the words just flow out of her, memory mixing with prose to create something wonderful, and there are days she stumbles more. The personal nature of the project accounts for most of her hold-ups. Rory knows what makes for a good story, what will best illustrate the points she’s trying to get across, but it’s about her , and her mom, and all the other people in this crazy town that she loves. There’s not the same distance that she might find if she was writing about post-apocalyptic teens, or whatever other kind of fiction is in vogue these days. 

“Why did I decide to do this?” Rory groans, sitting on the couch in the apartment with Jess and her laptop, watching as Ivy pedals her arms and legs on her playmat on the floor. “Why did you talk me into writing this? This is your fault, you know.”

“Yes, I’m an evil genius forcing you to write a book. Absolute cruelty,” he snarks back. “Talk to me again tomorrow or next week when you figure out what needs to change for your current hurdle to make sense.”

“Why do you have to be the voice of reason?”

Jess’ face is unusually earnest when he turns to look at her - or as least as earnest as Jess ever gets. “Because I know you can do this, Rory. You might be the most determined person I know - if you want to write a book, it’s going to happen. I’m just here to listen to you whine until you’re ready to get back to the grindstone.”

“An invaluable service, really.”

“Damn straight. I’m an expert in that field.”

And he’s right - because a few days later, Rory busts through her block and gets back to flying through sentences and paragraphs. 

(She’d tell him what that kind of encouragement does for her - but then again, he probably already knows.)

———

Rory doesn’t have a regular job, per se, at least not right now; Ivy takes up so much of her time, and in between she’s desperately trying to put her book down on paper. She’s still the editor and primary contributor of the Stars Hollow Gazette, but it’s hard to call that steady work. There’s not enough going on in this little town for that, and most months accounts of the latest town meetings and whatever festival or fundraiser is being held in their little hamlet take up the sparse pages. It’s work that lets her feel like she’s accomplishing something - but in any other circumstance, one where she’s not simultaneously taking care of an infant, it wouldn’t be nearly enough to do, with the skimpy compensation to match.

It’s a shock when she gets a call out of the blue from Headmaster Charleston, asking if she’d like to come back to Chilton to head up a weekly journalism class. Privately, Rory suspects her grandmother of meddling; even if she now lives in Nantucket, content to build a new life and new purpose, Emily’s years of networking and most of her connections still stand, and she’s still not above pulling on those strings for what she believes is the benefit of all. It’s all too easy to accept the offer when she’s not in much of a position to say no. There’s the argument, too, that maybe this will help Rory figure out what she wants to do; perhaps teaching is her real calling.

(Somehow, Rory doubts that.)

As much as she loves Ivy, marvels at all the little changes and developments that come so quickly in these early months, it’s nice to have a standing appointment every Wednesday to get out of the apartment and out of Stars Hollow and put on real pants for a change. Chilton is the same as ever, all tall gothic arches and meticulously pruned shrubs, but somehow it seems less intimidating than it did when she was a student. Not smaller, like all the high school reunion cliches, but less… weighty. It’s no longer some mountain she has to climb like it was back when she was a teenager; it can be just a building and a repository for her memories. 

Rory finds that she likes teaching the class, actually, even if she can’t see herself making a career out of it. It’s nice to keep this just as a side gig, coming to campus once a week, only committed to teaching the one ninety minute class. She knows for certain that she’d go insane if she was committed to teaching three or four periods every day of the week, but this? This is sharing her knowledge and her passion with a small group of students who want to be here, who signed up for this elective on purpose. It’s like revisiting her own time as a student - covering the evolution of the profession and talkabout all the things she wished she knew when she first started at the Yale Daily News. With only one class, too, she doesn’t feel bad about seeking out one of the coffee shops she used to go to, back when she went to Chilton, in order to grade homework without distractions before she has to pick Ivy up from her mom at the Dragonfly.

It’s not her calling - but it’s a nice distraction. 

———

Most afternoons, Rory camps out at one of the tables by the bay window down in the diner with her laptop and tries to write. Tries is the operative word, of course; this is a social town, and not to be too vain, but she’s a popular lady. It’s still easier to take the baby monitor downstairs while Ivy’s napping, as the open floorplan of the apartment makes it difficult to do anything without waking the baby. 

(Yeah, she knows she’s supposed to sleep when the baby sleeps and all that - but clearly, whoever came up with that catchphrase wasn’t trying to write a novel at the same time.)

Today, a quiet Tuesday afternoon at the end of the lunch rush, her distraction has nothing to do with catty townsfolk. Today, Luke roped the visiting Jess into filling in for the usual waitress, and the sight is… something to behold. Jess has filled out since they first met, no longer the skinny, lanky kid she knew in high school; that much has been obvious for the last several years. But there’s something about the rolled up sleeves today, the way his arms keep flexing as he delivers and clears plates, that leaves Rory unable to look away. 

“When did you get built , Mariano?” she teases as he comes around with another coffee refill - still decaf, much to her chagrin, but what are you going to do.

Jess slides into the chair across from her, snagging his own mug off of an empty set table to pour his own cup of the brew. With an exaggerated glance down at his own arm, he shrugs. “Dunno. Took up boxing a couple years ago. Why, you see something you like, Gilmore?” he finishes with that cocky little smirk that’s always made her all fluttery. Some things really haven’t changed over the years. 

“What can I say, I’m a red-blooded American female.” After a moment, the first part of his response catches up to her tired brain. “Wait, you said boxing? Like - ”

Jess groans. “Do not make a Rocky joke, Rory, I swear to God - ”

“I’m just saying, you live in Philadelphia! Maybe you’ve gone native! I mean, I would have pegged you for obnoxious cheesesteak opinions instead of this, but to each his own - ”

“This is not some weird ‘gone native’ thing,” he scoffs. It’s evident he knows she’s teasing him, though, in the way the side of his mouth struggles not to quirk up. It’s nice, reminiscent of the banter they used to toss back and forth. “This is… it’s good exercise, ok? And a much better outlet for my frustrations than whatever self-destructive spirals I used to get into.”

Rory gapes, struck speechless for a rare moment. “Jess Mariano, did you go to therapy ?” 

A little bit of color flushes on his neck, but he otherwise keeps his composure. It’s not that she has anything against him going to therapy - frankly, they’re both prime candidates for a doctor’s couch, regardless of whether they want to admit it. It’s just surprising, somehow, to hear that Jess of all people is seeing someone, talking things out. Good for him, honestly - for the therapy and for being open about it. It’s another sign of how far he’s come since they were still those idiot teenagers. “Heard it was the trendy thing to do these days.”

“And you’re nothing if not a hip lemming, always following the crowd.”

“Yes, that is the one thing that people have always said about me. I’m such a follower.”

Somehow, she can’t help but grin at this, the way they sass each other back and forth. So often these past months, since Ivy was born, Rory has felt too tired to keep up with her usual self, to dish things out with the speed and array of references that she’s used to. It’s a relief to reclaim that, even just for a moment.

Before the moment can blossom any further, Babette waves Jess down from across the diner for her own refill. “Try not to get distracted by the gun show, alright, Rory?” he jabs as he stands up in his dry, teasing voice. “That book won’t write itself.”

(And if she sneaks another handful of glances before she hears Ivy start to fuss on the baby monitor - well, he’s good enough not to mention it.)

��——

In a weird way, having Ivy brings Rory’s friendship with Lane into perspective.

Rory doesn’t remember a lot of the first year of Lane’s twins’ lives; the fact of the matter is that she hadn’t been around to make those memories. She only realizes now just how much Lane was on her own - Rory had been off following the Obama campaign, and Zach had been on tour for months at Lane’s insistence. Some days Rory feels like she can barely keep her head above water, and she’s only got the one baby to contend with; it’s a miracle Lane didn’t snap while having to care for two on her own. 

“I really admire you, you know,” Rory tells Lane during a lunch date at the antique shop while Kwan and Steve are at school. Lane sits across the table, same as it ever was, happily making faces at Ivy in her arms. 

“How’s that?” Lane asks.

“Because… I don’t know, I feel like I’m losing myself in the mom-ness of it all some days. I don’t get how you made it through that first year without Zach here most of the time and still stayed… Lane .”

“I mean, I wasn’t fully alone,” Lane points out. “I had my parents. Mom especially. Having her help with the boys really finally healed that relationship, which I’m not sure would have happened otherwise.”

“Yeah, that’s true. But, I mean, you’ve still got the band and you still keep up with all these up and coming music acts and - I don’t know. Maybe this is just baby brain, but I have trouble thinking about all the things I’d normally like to do. Seeing movies and new TV shows and whatever else. It’s like… all the Rory bits of my brain are just being taken over by Ivy bits.”

“It gets better in time,” Lane assures her, shifting Ivy to cover Rory’s hand on the table next to the rice cakes neither have touched. “She’ll get older and more independent, and you’ll have time again to be Rory. Besides, you’re not alone either,” she adds. “Not only do you have your mom and Luke and a whole town of affectionate maniacs, but you’ve got me. You can drop this cutie with me, her godmother, anytime you need a break.”

“Didn’t you reject religion years ago?”

“That’s a good point - but also, I’ve decided it’s not relevant right now.”

———

Motherhood, as a whole, is rewarding. There’s something magical about the way Ivy looks at her and looks like her, something earth shattering about the kind of trust she exhibits every time she smiles or reaches for Rory. It’s purpose, in a way that Rory was never entirely sure that she wanted; now, like every cliche ever written, she can’t imagine life any other way. 

For all of the magical moments, though, there are moments like this - hours and days where Ivy won’t stop crying, refusing to be soothed no matter how long she’s held or how much she’s bounced and swayed. It feels like Rory’s tried everything - the changing, the feeding, the singing, the music, the lighter clothes. Everything. None of it works, not even for a moment, and Rory’s at her wit’s end, practically in tears herself as she bounces around the apartment with her tiny banshee in her arms. 

“Please stop crying, baby,” she pleads, stroking the wisps of reddish fluff at the top of Ivy’s small head. The blonde hair had fallen out at six weeks, much to Rory’s guilty relief, and was growing back in a shade reminiscent of Emily’s natural shade. Not that she can focus on it right now. “I’ll do anything , baby, just… I don’t know what you want. What do you want ?”

Ivy doesn’t answer though, too young for anything but these screams. The never ending screams. The screams that leave Rory feeling more desperate, more on-edge than ever in her life. 

It’s not a great time for someone to knock at the apartment door; frankly, it’s probably a miracle that Rory even hears it. Under more normal circumstances, she might care that Jess sees her like this when she opens the door - unshowered, exhausted, barely holding it together - but she’s reached a point where she’s incapable of caring about anything but stopping the crying. 

“Were we supposed to meet?” she asks, tears rising to the surface as the very prospect proves just one too many things to handle. “I’m so sorry, Ivy’s been fussy all week, I completely forgot - ”

“No, I know,” Jess interrupts. “We didn’t have plans, Luke mentioned you were having a rough week. I figured I’d come up, give you a bit of a break.”

It doesn’t help. “I’m - it’s ok, I can handle this. You think I can’t handle this?” The words come out more frantically than she would have liked, but she’s not thinking straight anymore, and Ivy’s still crying —

“You know I don’t think that, Rory,” he says, in as much as a soothing voice as Jess can muster. He’s never been much for displays of emotion. “I just want to help. Let me take the howler monkey for a couple hours. You can have a shower, get a nap, come back thinking clearer. Alright?”

Her pride demands she say no - to not ask for help. It’s a streak so reminiscent of her own mother. But she’s so tired, and her ears will be ringing from the cries and screams for ages to come, and it’s too tempting an offer to deny. Resignedly, she nods, handing over the baby. “Ok. Yeah, ok, thank you. Let me get you the baby bag, and the carrier, and - ”

“Nope,” Jess interrupts, already starting a half-conscious bounce to try and settle Ivy and waving off all of Rory’s attempts at protest. “Look, I spent a lot of time here way back when, helping Doula make it to her first birthday. I know the drill. You’re veering towards Liz-level crazed, so go take a moment for yourself before it becomes permanent, alright?”

Somehow, Rory finds herself nodding, though she can’t help but try and reclaim a bit of the banter - or a bit of normality, more like. “You can’t really call her a howler monkey, though. She’s not howling yet.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know that screaming monkeys are a thing, so we’ll make do. And the operative term is yet .”

As much as it hurts to admit, he’s right - after a shower and a couple hours’ nap, Rory feels… not quite like a new woman, but at least prepared to enter the fray for another round. Lately, that’s enough of a win. When she wanders back downstairs, Jess sits outside on a park bench with Ivy shaded in her carrier from the worst of the summer sun. His foot absentmindedly rocks the carrier back and forth periodically as he reads a well-worn paperback whose cover she can’t make out. 

He looks up as soon as the bell on the diner door jingles, putting the book aside when he sees Rory stepping down. Blessedly, Ivy’s cries have ceased for the moment. “Don’t get too excited,” Jess cautions her. “Think she just cried herself out for the moment. I’m not remotely confident she won’t start again once she wakes up.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” Rory gladly collapses onto the bench beside him, caving to the urge to lean into his body and rest her head on his shoulder. “Thanks for this. I clearly needed it.”

Jess just hums in response at first. They sit in silence for several minutes, just soaking in the day and watching preparations for whatever the carnival of the month might be in the town square, before he finally uses his words. “That’s not your fault, you know,” he assures her. “Babies are just like that. They go through spurts where it’s all crying all the time. You know that, from Lane’s and Paris’ kids.”

“I know,” Rory sighs. “I just didn’t realize how… helpless I’d feel. All the sleep deprivation and parental instinct and everything combining into straight up panic. I just felt like it was something I had to figure out, you know? I mean, this probably isn’t the last time.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to do it on your own. Call your mom, or Lane, or Luke, see if they’ll give you a hand for a couple of hours. Hell, give me a call, I’ll drive up if I have to. You don’t have to do it alone.”

“I know.” The moment sits between them as Rory processes. He’s right, of course; so often these past years, he’s been the voice of reason when she needs it most. “Thanks, Jess.”

“Not a big deal.”

Rory finally finds the light way out of this, and she takes it. “So, did Miss Patty or Babette happen to see you during your babysitting adventure?”

He groans. “Put it this way: we both should brace for some real creative comments in the next few weeks, and I for one plan to make myself scarce.”

———

She thinks about her grandfather a lot.

Richard had been such a steady figure in her life since the age of 15; for all of the heart and health problems he'd had in that time, he’d always seem invincible. Timeline - like he’d always been there, and would always be there. His death had been a shock, no matter how much it shouldn’t have been. Grandpa had believed in her so strongly too, that she could do anything she set her mind to. Of course, Rory thinks he probably never would have guessed she’d wind up here, after a life with everything so carefully planned.

“What do you think Grandpa would have thought of this?” she asks her grandmother during a more vulnerable moment. Emily’s Nantucket cottage isn’t even remotely as grand as the Hartford house had been, but there’s something more homey about it, and there’s still plenty of room for Rory and Ivy to come stay a few days over the October break. The sea breeze and change of scenery has sparked words in a way Rory hadn’t anticipated, but fully intends to take advantage of, and Emily loves the chance to spend time with her great-granddaughter, even if the ‘great’ makes her nose scrunch up in a very particular way. It aches a little for Rory to watch, knowing her grandmother probably wanted this back when Rory was a baby; then again, knowing the way Emily had wanted to raise Lorelai in their upper crust image, and gladly offered some of those same trappings to Rory, maybe this is for the best. Richard’s death has fractured Emily, but it’s softened her too, as much as that’s possible for Emily - made her loosen up, live in the moment more and worry about appearances less. 

(Emily has offered, more than once and in a way veering towards insistence, to host Rory and Ivy here at the cottage for as long as they liked, but Rory keeps finding ways to turn her down. As much as she understands and accepts Emily’s desire to be involved in her great-granddaughter’s young life in a way she couldn’t be involved in Rory’s for so long, Rory understands, too, all the reasons why Lorelai set out on her own in the first place. She doesn’t quite understand where she’s going right now, but Rory knows that’s something she’ll have to figure out for herself. Emily, for better or for worse, wants the best for those she loves, and has always believed the best is a mirror image of the life she leads. That life now is different in so many ways from the one she was living before Richard died, but the urge is still there - and Rory isn’t sure she’s ready to spend her life in Nantucket, talking about whales. No, for now, a series of short visits is much better.)

“What do you mean?” Emily asks absently, comparing the look of two vases on a sideboard that look entirely identical to Rory. 

“I mean, this probably isn’t where he saw me going. I can’t imagine what he’d think about me writing a book about the way I grew up. I just… do you think he’d be proud of me?”

Her grandmother sets both vases down with a gentleness that is contradictory to the way she crosses to Rory with determination in every movement. “Rory,” she says, placing her hands on Rory’s sweatshirt-clad shoulders, “your grandfather was always proud of you. Always . Even if we didn’t imagine this would be the path you’d take, I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would make him anything less than proud, and delighted you were his granddaughter.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course. And I feel the same way.” With a last squeeze to Rory’s shoulders, Emily lets go and crosses back to her decorating with a smile. “Of course, after those years teaching, he would have edited your manuscript with a colored pen in hand. I’ll do you the favor of declining that form of editing.”

Rory laughs, knowing her grandmother is right; Richard had loved teaching those econ classes, and had taken to it like a duck to water. He wouldn’t be able to help himself. “I like remembering him like that,” she admits. “Excited to learn and share. I loved having those moments with him.”

Emily smiles fondly, sadly. They’re all slowly learning how to live in a world without him. “I did too.”

———

I want to drink in a bar. My kitchen feels depressing , the text from Paris demands. Let me know your schedule.

(She’s never been much for requests.)

Tact and lack thereof aside, it’s good to see Paris; Rory is more-or-less glad to consider her old schoolmate one of her best friends, inexplicably, but they’ve always both been too busy to really keep up with anything more than the occasional text, conversations often winding up spaced out over the course of several days as both get pulled in every-which direction. Even if Rory doesn’t have the same work demands now, Paris definitely still does. While she’d been an invaluable resource while Rory was pregnant, insisting on providing her with the names of the best doctors out there, they’ve both been too busy with their own lives for more than the occasional call since. This is well overdue - especially with Paris’ kids with Doyle for the week and Ivy at Lorelai’s for the night.

They go out to New Haven and hit the bars around Yale in what is probably some kind of misguided attempt to reclaim their youth. It’s been ten years; they’re obviously not students anymore. But it’s fun to sit in a grimy bar for the night and pretend they’re not thinking about all the terrible terrible substances that have been spilled on every surface. 

They try to keep conversation light, to talk about books Rory’s read lately and Paris’ latest crazy client and all the little milestones their children are hitting. Albums they want to listen to and movies they want to see. Paris’ lengthy opinions about the bars near her in New York. All the little nothings that somehow form a lasting friendship. Maybe it’s the venue, though, or maybe it’s just an inevitability, but somehow they find themselves talking men over a third drink like they’re 22 again.

“I miss Doyle,” Paris confesses. “I miss my Doyle, not this cool screenwriting asshole he wants to turn into. He was a neurotic bastard, but he was my neurotic bastard, you know?”

“That’s the best description of Doyle I’ve heard in years,” Rory replies, examining her drink. It’s a garish blue - something that had seemed fun half a glass ago, but just seems questionable now. “So what, then - you guys going to get back together?”

“I don’t know. I mean, obviously I can’t bring that up. He’s the one who changed and suggested the stupid separation, he’s gotta be the one to fix it.”

(Rory isn’t entirely sure that’s how it works, but she knows better than to get into it with Paris when she’s stubborn about something.)

“What about you, though?” she continues, flagging down the bartender for a refill of her cosmo. “You aren’t still going to try and mend things with Logan, are you?”

“God no. I mean, obviously there’s love there, or there was, but that’s over. He’s not really… ready for all of this. Growing up in a way that doesn’t mean just following in his father’s footsteps.”

“I never really liked him, you know.”

Rory snorts. “Bullshit. You loved the banter.”

Paris toasts a concession. “Fine. But I never liked him after the bridesmaids debacle.”

“Fair enough.”

Rory thinks that’s it, as Paris reaches for the nachos on their appetizer platter. Well, not quite an appetizer platter; they’d just ordered all the finger food that was available and let it take up most of the table. Paris is full of surprises, though. “What about Jess?”

Rory tries not to accidentally inhale an ice cube. “What about Jess?”

“I mean, he’s been around, right? And looking hotter than ever.”

“Oh my god , Paris.”

“What? I’m just saying. No one would blame you. Or, you know, be surprised about you getting back together with your high school love who just happens to be an author. That’s better than any shitty script Doyle could come up with, even if it is a bit trite. I mean, he’s there all the time. And he’s still got that hair, right?”

“It is good hair,” Rory admits. Probably a sign she needs to switch to water. “Can we drop this, please? Nothing is going to happen.”

“If you say so, Gilmore.”

( Did you know that Paris has a thing for your hair? she texts after the fourth drink - in hot pink this time. 

What can I say, she’s a woman of taste , he responds.)

(And if Paris shoots her a smug look from the bar - well, she’d drunk texted Doyle too, so she has no room to judge.)

———

Some nights, they do nothing more than sit in the darkened diner with leftover pie and a coffee or beer, chatting the night away. It feels like old times, back when they were just a couple of idiots. It’s nice to pretend for a couple hours that they’re still those teenagers, and not a single mom still trying to figure out where she’s going and an acclaimed author ignoring his next deadline. There’s an irony, she thinks, to the situation they find themselves in now - he, the man who has it all together, and her, an increasingly hot mess. It’s not how anyone would have expected they’d end up. 

She mentions it to him one night, only for Jess to snort in amusement. “Ok, you are not a hot mess,” he tells her. “Not even close.”

“You sure about that? Because it sure feels like my life is a disaster most days.”

“I’ve seen hot mess Rory,” he tells her. “This isn’t it. You go big or go home. Last time you descended to a genuine hot mess, you stole a fucking yacht .”

“It wasn’t a yacht, it was a boat,” Rory mumbles in protest, even as she smiles behind her mug of decaf. 

“It was a yacht, and you know it. You stole it from a marina that wouldn’t accept anything as mundane as a boat . I can break out the dictionary if you want, but you know I’m right. My point is ,” he plows ahead before she can interrupt, “you are not nearly the disaster you think you are right now. This is just… a stumbling block. You’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll have to,” Rory replies with a sly grin. “No yachts to steal in Stars Hollow.”

(As much as she may laugh it off, and he may let her, it strikes Rory’s heart in some particular way to hear the confidence Jess has in her, the way he’s so quick to assure her that she’s not entirely off track and adrift - that this is just a detour. There’s something different about hearing it from him, and not from her mother or grandmother. Jess always seems to be the one to steer her back on track - and this seems to be just another case.)

———

Rory has never been one of those obnoxious new year, new me! types, but she’s veering dangerously close this time. After a year of so much change and uncertainty, it feels like a chance to turn over a new leaf and rediscover so much of the direction that she’s lost. 

Though it feels like she still might jinx it, it feels like things are finally coming back together. Chilton has contracted her to teach her class in the spring semester again, and she’s picked up some work writing book reviews for an online publication. That feels a little like coming back to her roots, in a way - she started at a little online setup, and now, after years of chasing glossy magazines and newsprint, she’s back here again. But the assignment is enjoyable, and money is money - especially since she’s got her eye on a small house for rent near where Lane lives, in a neighborhood of quaint bungalows. She’ll always be grateful to Luke for his generosity in letting her live above the diner for so long, but it’s not workable long term. Ivy is growing every day; while Rory’s homecoming back to Stars Hollow has brought into focus that this is the place she wants to raise her daughter, they both need more space. Ivy deserves her own room, maybe a backyard to run around in, and Rory deserves a door she can close while her baby is napping. 

Most exciting of all, Rory finishes her book in early February. At least, in the moment, it feels most exciting of all - it’s been months of blood, sweat and tears, but it’s done . There’s a feeling of relief as the last period hits the page, even if she consciously knows there’s still so much editing to do. Writing the book, about her and her mom and the way they’ve lived, had been emotionally draining and emotionally freeing all at once, and calling it finished feels like an accomplishment like she hasn’t found professionally in so long. 

The next time Jess drives up to town, Rory practically dances around the kitchen in anticipation, waiting for him to knock on the door. There had been so many people who supported her during this weird time in her life, and then when she decided to write this book, but Jess sits high on that list. The idea had originated with him, and he’s prodded and encouraged her the whole way; it feels right that he see it first, even if he’s made her promise this whole time to shop it around to bigger publishing houses instead of just asking him and Truncheon to publish it. 

“Someone’s happy,” he comments when she opens the door with a huge grin. “Do I even want to know, or did your mom share another convoluted sex joke?”

“You’re going to want to hear this,” Rory promises. “And no, it’s not a joke. Sexual or otherwise. Close your eyes.”

Jess rolls his eyes first, but he complies and even smiles a bit. For full dramatic effect, Rory had printed the book onto real paper - dozens and hundreds of pages, all off the Gazette office’s ancient printer over the course of a day that she’ll probably wind up paying for in some way later. It’s worth it , to stand here with all those pages in a binder clip with a red pen. With a final flutter of nerves, she shoves it all into his chest.

Jess’ arms close around her offering on instinct; his eyes open to actually see what’s going on a second later. Looking at the pages in his arms, comprehension dawns slowly, and his own rare grin spreads. “You finished your book?”

“I finished the book!” Rory squeals, not caring nearly as much as she should about disturbing her currently quiet daughter.

Uncharacteristically, Jess sweeps her into a hug - a big, swooping thing where her feet leave the floor and he spins her about a bit. Those arm muscles, you know. “I’m so proud of you,” he says. “This is amazing . You’re a genius, Rory.”

“You haven’t read it yet,” she laughs as he sets her back down. “It could be absolute trash. I could have slandered your good name. I could have —”

“Yeah, but I know you didn’t. You’re Rory Gilmore. Obviously it’s going to be great.”

There’s a moment there, where he looks at her with pride and awe and so much shared joy that Rory thinks it would be so easy to lean up and kiss him. And maybe it’s the moment, the adrenaline, but she wants that. Not letting herself think too much, she starts inching upwards, as he starts inching down —

And then Ivy shrieks from her playpen - a happy sound, likely picking up on the joy bouncing around the room, but enough to shatter the moment.

“I’d better check on her,” Rory says weakly. “But go nuts. Tear it apart, tell me what I need to fix. I want to hear what you think.”

“Included the pen and all,” he tosses back. If Rory’s not mistaken, his voice is a little uneven. Did she do that? God, she did that. She can’t do that.

So, like so many times before - Rory bolts to avoid talking about what just almost happened. 

(Even if it’s just to the other side of the room.) 

———

“What should I do?” Rory begs her mom in the aftermath, pacing back and forth in the living room while Lorelai scrolls through online sewing patterns. She’s never been entirely confident in affairs of the heart anyways, having maneuvered herself into a mess a few too many times - with everyone but Jess, that is. Maybe that’s why she needs advice so badly; not only is there Ivy to consider, but her and Jess’ relationship is the last one she hasn’t outright screwed up yet. 

“Well, what do you want to do?” Lorelai asks. Like a normal, reasonable person, who also maybe hasn’t had to think about this for the past ten years since she figured out her soulmate was right in front of her face. Rory’s never been so frustrated with Luke than in this moment, knowing he made the kind of commiseration she’s looking for impossible. 

“I wanted to kiss him!”

“Then you should! Next time you see him and the moment is right!”

“But I can’t!”

Lorelai dramatically closes the laptop. “Are we circling? I feel like we’re circling. Why are you asking for advice if you know what you supposedly can or can’t do?” When that produces no useful response, she plows forward. “Okay, new tactic. Why can’t you?”

Rory sighs. “I just feel like… I’ve barely got things figured out, you know? And he does. I don’t want to fuck things up for him. My life right now is a mess .”

“Ok, I’m going to stop you right there. If he thinks you and Ivy being in his life is anything less than a damn miracle, then there’s your answer, that’s my opinion, do not pass go, do not move forward with this.”

“But it’s Jess.”

“Right, it’s Jess. And as much as it might pain for me to admit, I have gotten to know Jess a lot more in the past few years since he got his act together, and I have trouble believing he’s that particular brand of asshole. That guy’s been around, and happy to be here, since the moment you moved back home. Job or no job, kid or no kid.”

“But what do I do with that?” Rory whines. 

Her mom sighs. “With full awareness of me, queen of avoidance, telling you this - you talk to him, Ror. I know you’ve got plenty of words, my darling daughter, my mini me, my legacy. Use them, for the love of all things holy. Comprende?” Rory nods, not capable of much else. Especially when the solution is supposedly so simple. “Cool. Now sit down and convince me that I have enough on my plate and don’t need to try making baby clothes even if they really are stinking cute and the whole matched ruffle trend in the kids stores drives me nuts.”

———

When Lorelai suggested that Rory and Jess talk, she probably imagined a calm, planned, adult conversation. For better or worse, though, this is Rory - that was never going to happen. So instead of easing into the topic carefully, she blurts out it out in the diner, the last night before Jess drives back to Philadelphia in the morning. 

“I want to talk about what happened the other day,” she all but demands when Jess gets up to make more coffee. 

His steps falter with the carafe in hand, before moving again to get fresh water. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Well, I mean… we almost kissed.”

“I know. I was there.”

“So what does that mean? ”

That finally gets him to set the container down, bracing both hands on the counter. “I don’t know Rory. I don’t know. I’m not going to stand here and pretend I don’t feel something, because I do, but you are… You’ve been through a lot this year, and I don’t know that I want to be the guy that you latch onto because you’re lonely and I’m here. I don’t think I can do that.”

Rory is struck speechless for a moment at the very idea. She’d never even thought of that; these feelings have been percolating in her for so long, but she’s never given him any indication of that. Of course he thinks this is coming out of nowhere. “Jess…”

“If you want to be something, give this a second shot, yeah, of course. I’m there, I’m all in. I’m your guy. But I want you to be sure about that, Rory. I… I haven’t been yearning or pining or carrying a torch or any other bullshit you’d find in a romance novel, but I figured out a long time ago that I like my life with you in it. I like that I get you and you get me. I love your kid and I mostly like your mom. So I’m sure. But if this is just because I’m available and here —”

“But don’t you see? That’s part of the point!” Rory interrupts. “I mean, you’re making it sound like such a bad thing, but that fact that yeah, you’re here - that’s huge . And it’s not the whole reason I want to get into this, but - I mean, you’ve been supporting me through this book. You are entirely unphased by the fact that I have a kid with someone else who isn’t here. You’ve got this faith me I still don’t fully understand, and… Yeah, I want this. I want this because you’re a more mature version of that brilliant, sarcastic bastard I fell in love with as a teenager, but I want it too because you want to be here.” She finally pauses for breath. “Does that make sense?”

Jess nods silently. Nothing more.

Time to babble - by far the worst trait she inherited from her mom. “So… is any of that a deal breaker? Because honestly, I wouldn’t blame you, that was definitely a lot to dump all at once. But also, you should know what you’re getting into, you have almost fifteen years of experience listening to me word vomit, so if you didn’t think that’d continue —”

In the time that she runs her mouth, Jess crosses back to her side. “Would you just… shut up for two minutes?”

And he kisses her - takes her face between his hands and brings their mouths together, like she’s fantasized about more than she’d like to admit. It’s like falling back in time in the best way, relearning the shape of each other’s lips and the way they fit together. No chicken pecks here. Rory gladly twines her arms around his neck to pull him as close as possible as his hands readjust, one sliding back into her hair as the other drops to grasp at her hip. When he gently nips at her top lip, she can’t help but giggle - giggle, like a teenager again! - before diving back in to deepen the kiss. Like so many things with Jess, this feels right , like they’ve been leading back to it forever. 

They finally break apart only when Rory becomes aware of the fact that they’re still in the closed diner, perfectly in view of the darkened street.

“As good as you remember?” she asks cheekily.

Jess leans his head down to rest his forehead against hers. “Better.” They take a moment just to enjoy the shared space before he continues. “Any regrets?”

Rory smiles. “None. I’m sure. I think I’m exactly where I need to be.”

And for the first time in forever - she knows that’s true. 

[scarlettroubles]

HPHM fanfic WIPs

I’ve actually been writing some fanfics for Eileen’s story as well as some Ryder Family lore for a while now but because of school I haven’t been able to get around to finishing any of them so I thought it would be cool to show you all some sneak peaks so enjoy!

In the Face of Fear chapter 2: of Faceless Strangers and Empty Halls

(The continuation to this fic)

She does not remember how long she has stood in this queue. Hell, she doesn't even remember what she's in line for anyway, not really. Logically she knows it's to get some important documents approved of before carting it off to the next sorry sod who was stupid enough to land themselves in this God forsaken place too. But she honestly couldn't bring herself to care. Politics, desk jobs, rules? She never cared for them really. Not even once.

She hated office work. Tulip had always found it dreadfully boring and the people who actually bothered with the crap even more so. So why did she take one?

The red head found herself racking her brain for answers as she waited oh so painstakingly for the queue to move and for her to be done with all this boring crap and lock herself in her boring little cubicle and bury her head under a shit ton of useless paperwork that, if she were lucky enough would hopefully suffocate her before this job did. But one look ahead of the line was enough for her to discern that it wouldn't be budging any time soon.

Why did she take this job? She hated the Ministry. Hated how suffocating rules and laws were. Sure, some were needed but that did not change the fact that Tulip Karasu did not like being restrained. So why the hell was she here? Working a dreadful job that was sucking the life out of her. Working for dreadful people who knew not the meaning of fun and only the meaning of responsibility, paperwork, and order and snuffing out the flame of good ol' fun chaos before it could really take spark. In a dreadful queue that was far too long to be normal with people and coworkers whose faces she always seemed to forget.

So why? Why here? She saw what this job did to people. How strict it made her parents. How high their expectations of her were and how they wouldn't accept anything less than perfect from their daughter. Despite most of the fog that clouded her tired mind she could still remember it so clearly... The promise she had made to herself so long ago. She had promised herself that she would never work here and would never be like her parents. Not if she could help it.

Did she finally resign to their wishes? Bowed like some obedient little servant and catered to their every whim? Had her fear of what she would do once she left Hogwarts finally override her logic?

Why did schools even do that? Why did the world do that? Telling students to make up their minds on what career to choose from such an early age? Tulip has seen what happened to the people that were unlucky enough to land themselves in a job that sucked the life out of them. She remembers how sometimes the most brilliant of students ended up having their spark extinguished as soon as they left school. Left to reminisce on their glory days and what could have been. The very thought of it made her tighten her hold on the documents in her hands.

Because everybody needs to know what they want to be at an early age. Everybody needs to know their place. They just have to have a place...

 It was one of Tulip's greatest fears.

 Ending up in a job that gave her zero satisfaction. A job that would end up isolating herself from everyone and everything because nobody wants to be friends with a traitor. A no good friend that turns on the other for their own gain. That's why Merula left-

Tulip was snapped out of her thoughts when she suddenly felt the sharp edges of the stack of documents she was carrying dig annoyingly into her side and moved to adjust them. Checking each one carefully to see if they've been ruined in any shape or form.

The last time she had presented a stack of reports that were ever so slightly crumpled and not properly organized to fit the pencil haired bastards ridiculously high standards she had been given such a withering gaze by her superior that she had felt herself visibly shrink just the tiniest bit. But the want to smack the arrogant sod and prank him mercilessly was stronger. 

How she wished she could pull out a heap of dungbombs or any other joke shop product and just reign full chaos upon this hellhole.

She looked up and, to her relief the line had actually moved significantly. In fact, She was only three heads away from being in the front of the line. Huh, that was...Weird.

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Regrets of a Useless Man

(Context: A story told from Edward Ryder’s perspective and explores how he grew up mentored by his father, to becoming an Auror and meeting Julianna and to the tragedy that caused the Ryder Family to spiral down a path of grief and neglect).  

Useless.

Edward remembers how often that word was hissed at him with such venom in his youth. How hard it would make him physically recoil, and if it wasn't the venom behind the words that stung, it was the pain and shock from the slap that would often follow next.

He remembers so clearly the sound of hand meeting cheek echoing so loudly within the Hunter's room of the Ryder Family Manor that day, and how the shadows in the dark room, the dancing fire in the hearth and the countless portraits of long dead ancestors were the only things to lay witness to it.

The day had started off simple enough. His father had brought him to the library for his afternoon studies on magical combat and magic theory. Edmund had forced the studies onto him when he was just 7, and Edward was now 12. Today though, Edward found it difficult to focus on reading the ink written words on the paper before him, he instead thought of the words his father said to him the day he had first started bringing him into this room every afternoon to ready him for what he claimed to the then 7-year-old, was his destiny.

"Your mother may think I'm being too harsh on you boy, but a child must learn sooner or later if he is to make his way in life. And you, Edward, my son…You will bring this family to glory. You will take back what once was mine... You will make me proud."

His father had made it his goal to have Edward become the next Head Hunter of the Hunters of Artemis. The group of bounty hunters and other unsavory individuals who were tasked in hunting down those The Ministry could not. Members were either recruited by the group's leader or were sentenced into joining it by The Ministry if they deemed the criminal guilty but useful elsewhere other than filling the empty cells up in Azkaban.

The title of headhunter used to be his father's. Back when Ryder was up against Ryder during the Wolves Rebellion. Edward remembers bits and pieces of the bloodshed. Their family's civil war had only recently ended after all. And although Edward was still young when the war was at its peak, he was there to see the ending of it. 

His father had lost a duel to the death for the title of headhunter against his own uncle and just when he was about to be killed, he was saved by his younger brother, Octavius Ryder, who would later become the next headhunter and finally put an end to their Family's civil war. While Octavius was hailed a hero by his family, Edmund Ryder was left crippled and was left to depend on a cane for the rest of his life. 

"Edmund's leg wasn't the only thing that was left crippled, his pride and soul got crippled too."

 His uncle Octavius had once told him that. And he knew it was true. Edward had seen the photos of his father back when he was younger. Before the Wolves Rebellion and before being damned to rely on a cane for the rest of his life. Edmund Ryder was a fierce and strong man. A man whose tall stature and commanding presence left his enemies either fleeing from the sight of him or hesitating to raise their wands. Knowing the moment they did, they would probably end up dead. But now though? Now Edmund Ryder was just a bitter old man who resorted to chasing his glory days and what he thought was rightfully his through his eldest son.

It was rather pathetic of him, to be honest.

"Get your head out of whatever childish fantasy you've ludicrously conjured, boy!" His father's sharp voice cut in. Snapping Edward out from his thoughts. He met his father's heated stare and could only sheepishly duck his head in apology. Silently hoping his father would let it go, just this once. He was a child after all, he could be allowed to be one every now and then couldn't he? But in Edmund's eyes, being a child meant close to nothing. He was just another soldier to train.

Edmund looked hard and long at his eldest son before letting out a huff and stood up from his seat. grabbing for his cane, he motioned for his eldest son to follow him. Edward looked at the door and calculated in his still youthful mind if making a mad dash for the door and hiding ‘til his mother came back from whatever social gathering his father had set up for her would be worth it. He knew it would not though. The first time he tried to escape his studies and sneak off to play with his siblings it hadn't ended well for either of them. 

And so, the child silently got up and dutifully followed his father out of the room and into the halls. He could feel the eyes of the animated portraits his family had kept for centuries dig into the back of his skull and Edward so very badly wanted to shrink and hide away. 

"You need to be reminded of what is at stake here, Edward." His father said as the steady clank of his cane meeting the floor echoed within the Manor with every step he took forward before taking a sharp left. And with that left, Edward knew exactly where his father was taking him to.

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Expanded Ryder Lore: The Wolves Rebellion

(Sometimes, all it takes is a few words for a family to turn against one another. 

When the Ryder family finds themselves being requested an audience with a man named Gellert Grindelwald, Esteban Ryder and his brother, Orion Ryder decide to entertain the man and accept his request, not knowing that by doing so, a fight for the title of head hunter would soon take place. A fight where each family member would find themselves asking if they’d rather be a dragon or they’d rather be a wolf).

The Wolves Rebellion refers to a civil war that happened within the Ryder Family during the 1920s and lasted until the 1940s. It is regarded as one of the most bloody civil wars that happened within the Ryder family and nearly led to the House’s extinction. 

The fighting came about because of a speech. Not just any speech but one given by none other than Gellert Grindelwald, regarded to be one of the most feared and most powerful dark lords of his time. Grindelwald was just coming into power and was seeking out allies and followers all over the world in order to rally an army large enough for war. He had already managed to sway a majority of the influential pure-blood families in Europe to join his side, and was now looking for new allies in the British Isles. 

He had the Malfoy's, the Black's, and the Parkinson's families in his palm in an instant. As the dark lord was mulling over what family to sway to his side next, one name had managed to pique his interest, The Ryder Family.

The Ryder's were a feared and well-respected family known for their ferocity in battle and for their loyalty. Grindelwald had heard stories of the Ryder's toppling down many dangerous adversaries and mighty beasts, one of them being the very beast they had as their house crest, a dragon. But that wasn't what really got the dark lords attention, no. What got it were the rumors. Rumors of the family having a unique short of magic which came in the form of instinct. Instincts so strong they knew when to block a spell from an enemy before it was even shot, instinct that helped warn them of danger before it even took place, and as a seer, an ability that granted the man the ability to see visions of the future, Grindelwald was all too eager to see if the rumors were true and to see just how useful and alike his ability was with theirs. 

And so Grindelwald sent a letter to the Ryder family, requesting to have an audience with them. The Ryder's were definitely ticked off by such arrogance, but the head of the family at that time, Esteban Ryder and Head Hunter,  Esteban’s younger brother, Orion Ryder, had been hearing of this man for months now and decided to entertain him and accepted his request if not to just satisfy their own curiosity about this strange wizard from Germany.

The dark lord was welcomed into the Ryder Family's home in a show of good faith however Esteban, surrounded by his hounds and seated with his wife and 4 children by his side, demanded that the man get straight to the point about what he wanted. Grindelwald obliged to the man's demand and told them. And told him they did for not even a minute later did the Ryder's find themselves entranced by the man's honeyed words. 

As the man spoke of his vision and dream for a world where wizards and witches could be free and didn’t have to hide in the shadows, Esteban took a look across the room and let his eyes take in the faces of the rest of his family members, he felt a wave of unease wash over him and settle at the bottom of his heart as he saw the hunger that swam in their eyes that only grew larger with every pretty word and lie that left the dark lord’s mouth. 

For when the Ryder’s fled to the British Isles following Adrian Ryder and his family’s betrayal back in the 17th century, The family of hunters suddenly found themselves being hunted. The Ministry had been informed by the new fledgling American wizarding government, MACUSA of the Ryder family’s possible involvement with scourers and of their bloody history of hunting down mercenaries and dragons, and so The Ministry did what they did best. They killed those who they feared and nearly had the entire family exterminated like rodents. It was only when the Minister of Magic realized that the Ryder’s would be more useful to him alive than dead did he decide to spare them and cease the bloodshed. The Minister had the Ryder’s and their hunters swear loyalty to The Ministry and the once proud family of dragons found themselves reduced to loyal hunting dogs. 

Grindelwald knew damn well about the Ryder’s being reduced to such a sorry state and having their freedom stripped away from them so fucking easily. And cleverly used it to get them on his side. He told them, “why should you all be muzzled and treated like dogs when you are something so much mightier than that? You are dragons, and dragons do not cower in front of anyone.”

Grindelwald thanked Esteban and Orion Ryder for their time and bid them farewell, and as the dark lord left the family to contemplate on his words, he  also left with them a seed. A seed of doubt and malice that would soon sprout and dig it’s vile roots within the Ryder family that would cause them to have a power struggle that would leave body after body in its wake.

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Two Lesbians and a Baby

(Context: A short story that takes place in the AU Eileen and Merula end up together during the Second Wizarding War).

“I thought you said not to get attached to the baby.”

Merula jumped in surprise from the voice behind her, causing her to jostle the baby cradled in her arms. She took a quick look down to make sure it was still sleeping and not getting ready to scream itself hoarse for having its nap interrupted and was relieved to find the little thing not making a fuss like it normally had these past few weeks of taking care of the insufferable thing.

The cursebreaker let out a sigh of relief. Glad that she didn’t have to deal with the nasty bugger before turning her attention to her wife and giving her her best withering glare. The kind that made most of her pathetic coworkers back at Gringotts cower beneath the powerful witch’s gaze. But Eileen, who had been married to Merula for 2 years and had known the Slytherin for far longer merely chuckled into her hand, completely unaffected by the threats and death glares her wife sent her at this point which was something Merula wasn't all too happy about.

“Have you gone mad Ryder? Of course I haven’t gotten attached to this pathetic, smelly little hell spawn!” Merula huffed as she straightened her posture and looked up at her dearly detested bastard of a spouse.

Eileen merely gave the shorter woman an amused look as she stared up and down at the way the Slytherin was unconsciously angling her body to better shield the baby from any potential danger. Her eyes softened as they landed onto the still sleeping bundle in her wife’s arms which only caused Merula to feel annoyance start to claw up her throat.

“If there’s anyone who’s getting attached to this thing it’s you! You’ve been acting all soft and dopey eyed these entire two weeks of caring for this brat! Honestly, the way this thing has gotten you wrapped around it’s tiny little finger is pathetic even for you, Ryder.’ Merula spat out venomously.

"Oh, and you haven't? I've seen the way you look at the little fella when you cradle him in your arms, or the way you give him one of your rare gentle smiles the few times you managed to wrangle a giggle out of him. Or how when he wakes up in the middle of the night and it's your turn to take care of him, you grumble about it but sing him back to sleep anyway. You may deny it but you secretly love caring for this little bundle of joy that you lovingly call a 'hell spawn'. 

“Face it Merl, you're completely enamoured with this little guy."