#but based on the images I would say you are a well dressed husband

[katzenkarussell]

@funkyjeans Multicolor

21-year-old Japanese fashion student Haruki wearing a handmade “whole body denim man” look with a mini denim jacket full head mask (you can see his eyes in the closeup), mini denim pants necklace, denim shorts bag & arms/legs each made of entire jeans on the street in Harajuku. Full Look

[penelopepine]

Mini Me

Phillip Graves x Fem Reader

Summary: You surprise Graves by having your son show up dressed like him. Content: Fluff, implied sexual content, Dad Graves Word Count: 1106

You couldn't wait to see the look on your husband's face when you and your son arrived at the base. The first grade class had asked all the kids to come dressed as their hero today, and of course your son had begged to go dressed as his dad. 

He already was a spitting image of Phillip; dressing him in clothes resembling his father's military wear only added to that. You even managed to find one of Phillip’s old shadow company patches to make the look perfect. 

It also happened to be the day Phillip would be returning home from some mission. He unfortunately wouldn't be able to return home right away though, and had asked that you both stop by after picking up your son from school. With that in mind you decided to not tell your husband about your son dressing like him; choosing instead to let it be a fun surprise. 

"Are you ready to surprise daddy, baby?" You ask the six year old practically vibrating in his seat the closer you get to the base gates. 

"Yeah!" He exclaims back to you, "I'm going to surprise him so good!" 

You couldn't help but lightly chuckle at how excited he was for this. His initial disappointment about not being able to show Phillip this morning was quickly thrown out the window when you explained how much fun it would be to show not only Phillip, but the shadow's as well.

He absolutely loved his father's shadows; many of them being seen as family. 

You’re quickly passed through the gates with a quick wave and smile from the soldier at the gate. He also lets you know that he'll radio Phillip to let him know you've arrived. 

The walk from the parking lot to Phillip's office is fairly short distance wise, but that doesn't mean you get there quickly by any means. Not when every few steps you're getting stopped by a different shadow who wants to say hello to you both. Many of them make the instant connection that your son is dressed up like his dad today, and address him as 'Commander Graves'. 

Every time they do you swear your son's face seems to glow with how bright that smile is. You can already tell you're going to have a hard time convincing him that he can't dress like this every day. That's tomorrow's problem though for now you're just going to enjoy seeing him so happy. 

It wasn't until you ran into Erikson and Dipaolo that your walk was truly stopped though. 

"Commander Graves is that you?" Is the first thing Dipaolo asks before stopping right in front of your son.

"I think so," Erikson says, stopping next to him, “Certainly looks like the Commander to me.” 

"Well then Commander Graves, do you have any orders for us sir?"

This entire time your son is giggling to himself as the two question if he is or isn't the commander, but upon hearing the question about orders he's immediately shouting out, "Push Ups!"

"Wha-"

"PUSH UPS!" He yells once more. You lightly shush him, but you know that he's just excited to truly act like his dad.

The two soldiers give each other a brief look before seemingly admitting defeat and getting into push up position. 

The six year old is then yelling ups and downs to them. Even going as far as to stand as straight as he can with his hands behind his back. Trying to replicate what he's seen Phillip doing. 

It takes you a few minutes of watching this scene to realize that Phillip is now standing beside you as he silently watches his son command two of his best soldiers up and down. The look on his face is nothing short of amusement and pride. 

Seeing that you have finally noticed him he now directs his gaze to you with a devilish grin before whispering, "This your doing, sweetheart?"

"Surprise," You step closer and give him a quick kiss, "I'm so happy you're back."

"I'll always come back to you - to this." He says as he looks towards his son once again. "He's a real mini me ain't he?" 

Before you can respond though it seems like your son has also noticed that Phillip is now present, and is immediately running towards him yelling out, "Daddy!" 

 Phillip kneels down with arms open as your son slams into him before lifting him up. "Hey buddy, I'm liking your look. Any reason for it or just cause?"

"We got to dress like our hero today for school!" 

And that right there was the real surprise. The revelation that out of anyone he could have picked he chose his dad. It seemed to momentarily shock Phillip before he broke out into a wide grin, "Really! I'm honored, little man. Your mama did a good job of making you look the part, didn't she?"

"Yeah, Mamas the best!" 

Phillip is then pulling you into his side. Everything he's ever wanted is here right now in his arms. He directs his attention to the soldiers still in front of them for all but a moment, "Erikson, Dipaolo you two are excused." He is then turning around, you still nestled into his side and your son on his arm, walking towards his office. 

Once in there he's setting down his son to let him around the room, and dragging you over to his chair; putting you in his lap. You're relaxing instantly into his chest as he wraps his arms around your waist as you watch your son roam around the room. 

"Ya know him dressed like my mini me has got me thinking," Phillip murmurs into your ear.

You give him a questioning glance before asking, "What about?"

"About how nice it would be for you to have a mini me as well." 

This has you taking a pause because at first you're not sure if you heard him correctly, or if he's really implying what you think he's implying. "… Are you saying you want another baby?" 

"Baby, I'm begging you for another baby." He nods his head towards the little boy excitedly messing around with the bookshelf. "Look at how perfect he is. We need to make more - replicate. Make the world a better place, and all that." 

Well when he says it like that, who are you to refuse, "Let's do it; let's have another baby!" 

He looks you in the eyes with a heated gaze and smirk, "I'll call the babysitter for the day I'm out of here because I'm not planning on wasting any time then, sweetheart.” 

[beneaththehalo]

nfwmb [rafayel x fem! reader]

an exploration of your married dynamic with rafayel based on the song. there are references to sex and murder, but nothing explicit. the song lyrics are indented, small text, and bolded. 1.3k words. link to ao3!

When i first saw you / the end was soon / to Bethlehem, it slouched /And then it must’ve caught a good look at you / Give your heart and soul to charity / ‘Cause the rest of you / the best of you / honey, belongs to me

another charity gala as rafayel’s wife. parasitic leeches of linkon hoping to boost their image through large donations that barely make a dent in their generational wealth. a drink at the bar, a waltz with a man fifteen years your elder, and the flick of your hair to drain their wallets. it would all be worth it once you could present the large donation check to your favorite ocean conservation charities — saving the sea turtles, clean the beach, etc. in fact, your knack for playing the game is what attracted rafayel to you in the first place. a measly event reporter drowning your sorrows in seconds at the buffet table, ranting to the poor photographer. in a crowd of fairweathers, you were the first real person rafayel had seen. it intrigued him.

you could say the rest was history, but you certainly didn’t make it easy for him as you were wary to trust another snooty, rich man. artist types tended to be uppity, over pretentious, and full of themselves, but their big pockets made them an easy target for charity. you changed your mind on him when you heard him talk about his paintings for the first time, no longer filtered through the PR-lens of Thomas, you saw the true tortures, loves, and muses of a real artist. of course, you were both a bit inebriated at the time which helped forego the filters as you both ranted over the pompous event. when you found out who he was, you thought you’d lose your job and never speak again. you will forever be thankful that the opposite happened.

ain’t it a gentle sound, the rollin’ in the graves? / ain’t it like thunder under earth, the sound it makes? / ain’t it exciting you, the rumble where you lay? / ain’t you my baby? ain’t you my baby?

it wasn’t always easy. the attention that came with being rafayel’s significant other was something you weren’t used too. microphones shoved in your face, constantly ending up on worst-dressed lists, and never knowing who you could trust out of your business contacts. it was fatiguing — this image of mr. rafayel’s perfect wife. she never said anything controversial, so she didn’t have morals or values. she never demanded attention away from her husband. she hardly ate in public or sipped more than one cocktail. yet, she women still seethed with jealousy and found any excuse to tear her down. they told her she would never meet his needs. she wasn’t pretty enough or smart enough to understand his art or tall enough or whatever bullshit excuse the media sold. rafayel’s ability to be a sex symbol as well as an artist was important, you were a threat to the brand.

you can imagine all that external pressure caused an implosion. insecurity breakdowns at home, intimacy interrupted tears, anger, and frustration. rafayel was ever-understanding, his patience with your struggles admirable. and on one such night, he said, “fuck my brand. i fell in love with you because of your capacity to care, tenacity, and raw emotion when you discuss your passions. i could lose my whole career, but i can’t lose you. not to people who don’t know you,” he says, planting a firm kiss upon your forehead. from then on, the dynamic shifted.

nothing fucks with my baby / nothing can get a look in on my baby / nothing fucks with my baby / nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing

you were married within a year or so, quick for some, but why wait for something you know will never change? the wedding naturally received a lot of attention despite it being a private elopement. tabloids clamored for the exclusive interview about the marriage of the famed rafayel and if he had any regrets about marrying at his younger age. would this effect his career? was he considering children? intrusive vultures thinking they were owed answers just because of rafayel’s fame. they never received any.

for rafayel was too busy burning every detail of your body into his mind each night. memorizing his favorite canvas and painting purple hues upon the skin of your neck. he touched you as if to prove that you were the only one who could ever draw his attention. all of your insecurities reduced to ash with his steady rhythm and guidance. he was everything you would ever need, and no one could satiate you more. it was heaven on earth, the connection you both shared. you’d both rather be damned than give that up.

if i was born as a blackthorn tree / i’d wanna be felled by you / held by you / fuel the pyre of your enemies

and here you are, back at the scene of the crime, aka this month’s charity gala to benefit coral reef restoration and preservation. you’re a few cocktails deep, the liquor always making things much easier to bear when conversing with the wealthy elite. men who hated their wives, women who loathed their husbands, and children far too privileged to be well-adjusted. people always found you easy to talk to, a little too easy to talk to, which normally you didn’t mind, it caused them to open their wallets all the same. however, tonight was not your night.

one of the men was blathering on and on about his petulant divorce. nothing you had not heard before. he was bolder than the others though, his words slurring a bit as he drapes himself over you. most people knew not to mess with you. for one, you could handle your own. for two, rafayel was rather possessive. so when this man thought he was clever, groping you inappropriately and making inane comments at your behest, something had to be done. so in your best, pseudo-sympathetic voice, you coax him into a private hall. rafayel isn’t far behind.

ain’t it warming you, the world gone up in flames? / ain’t it the life you, you’re lighting of the blaze? / ain’t it a waste they’d watch the throwing of the shade? / ain’t you my baby? ain’t you my babe?

the smoldering, remnant ashes of the man are promptly flushed down the toilet. rafayel cleans his hands at the sink, the small cut across his face already healing. you fix your hair, and blot at any of the smearing of your makeup. “better off anyways,” rafayel mutters, giving you a once over. he gingerly takes your face in his hands, resting his forehead against yours, “Ça va mon amour? [are you alright my love?]” he whispers. you nod, nuzzling your nose against his.

he peppers delicate kisses across your face. then drapes a few more down your exposed neck and collar. all your worries assuaged for the time being as you float in his attention, the memories of the disgusting socialite washed away as he fans the flames of your nerves. “rafayel,” you sigh, leaning into his touch, “you keep at it and the coral reef will never receive their generous check.” he whines in protest, but ultimately agrees and accompanies you back out to the party.

nobody mentions the missing man, and rafayel was such a smooth talker that any questions were easily forgotten. in the end, you had raised over $1.2 million for coral reef restoration, which was a feat in itself. when the party finally concludes and you tiredly shed your personas at the door of your shared home, you couldn’t be more grateful rafayel was who you had chose to spend your life with. and now that you were finally alone again, he would take that chance to remind you.

nothing fucks with my baby / nothing can get a look in on my baby / nothing fucks with my baby / nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing

beneaththehalo || est 2024

[sinon36]

Husband!Ghost x teacher!reader HC - Part 2

Part I

Author's block and tummy aches don't make a great team. Apologies that it took some time to post this. Enjoy!

Warnings: none other than mistakes, it's fluff.

-

Being a primary school teacher is far from easy. From the endless hours spent correcting homework or grading tests to preparing visual materials, your work never ends. Maybe you should listen to your colleagues and double down on the work you put into this. But you can’t deny the satisfaction you get from seeing your students get excited in class even when you assign extra work for them over weekends and holidays. But now that you came down with the flu, another downside of working with kids, you couldn’t care less about the little punks.

You lay down in bed covered in the thickest of blankets, shivering and barely able to breath. The house is empty and you’ve never felt so alone. You wish Simon would walk through the door and snuggle you until everything is better again. He was deployed again, and in the past few months you managed to talk to him for a total of 10 minutes. He’d call you to check on you and let you know he was fine, but he’d be quick to tell you he can’t say more about his whereabouts.

Being married to him brought a hell of a lot more stress than you could have imagined. Not knowing where he was or what he did was eating you on the inside. You worried about your husband’s well being but you always reminded yourself not to pester him too much. His job is stressful as it is, no need for you to put anymore pressure on him when he was home. You painted an image of his coworkers through his brief comments on what they did on base. The most you heard about was the Scot, Johnny, the young lad had made an impression on Simon. Even though he’d complain that Johnny was a ‘pain in the arse’, you couldn’t miss the small chuckle he let out whenever he spoke of him. You concluded that this young Scottish man was the closest thing to a friend your husband had.

The clock on the nightstand reads 2AM. The fever and headache are back. Your body hurts everywhere. you stand up readying yourself to leave the warm cocoon of the blanket and go to the kitchen to make some tea and take some more medicine. The otherwise short trip to the other side of the house seems now like an endless maze, it’s dark and you can barely see; you keep one hand on the wall just to be safe if nausea takes the better of you. You take a seat at the dinner table as the kettle starts warming up.

There is a faint click at the front door, so soft that at first you believe you imagined it. But it turns out that it was real, that the sound was a key turning the lock and the knob twisted, and the door opened. You watch everything as in slow motion, your brain too fuzzy with the flu. The massive body dressed in all black walks in illuminated from behind by the street lights, leaving their shoes on the rack. It’s Simon…. He’s home but you don’t have the energy to move. In the still and quiet atmosphere of the house the bloody kettle lets out a blood curling whistle signalling the water is boiling. Simon’s eyes dart towards the kitchen space, not having noticed you until now.

  ‘What’re you doin’ in the dark, love?’ he chuckles coming over to you. He’s becoming suspicious when you don’t make a single move to get up and greet him as you would. He first reaches for the knob to turn off the stove, then he pulls off the balaclava, reaching down to your sited position to kiss your forehead. ‘You a bit warm…’ he hums and you nod sniffling your runny nose. The rest is a blur, you can faintly remember him pouring the tea for you and handing the medicine. Next thing you know strong arms carry you to the bedroom, the same arms you fall asleep until morning.

Simon is trained in the art of staying still no matter what waiting to get a clear shot of the enemy. But since he met you, that skill has been put to a better use. He had no qualms with becoming your body pillow over night. He just loves the feeling of you pressed so closely to him, head rested on his peck near his beating heart. He would gladly stay there for an eternity is you asked him.

Anything for you. Always, no matter how costly or how small, he’d do anything to see you happy. That’s his love language, while he struggles to word it he makes up with his actions. And you’d never trade him for anyone else in the world. The following days are spent with him not leaving your side, pampering and loving you the way you’ve never been loved before.

Once you feel better, he asks you to go on a date just like first time he asked you accepted with a school girl giggle. It’s safe to say you’re in love. The date goes well and you find yourself walking through the park like two hopeless romantics, talking and laughing. He tells you that Soap caught a whiff of him being married to you and now he won’t stop pestering him with questions about you two. ‘Maybe you should invite him to dinner… if you want to.’ You smile at him. ‘Maybe’ he grunts not looking at you. Bringing Johnny to your house, to meet you, it involves risks. But he knows that he can trust the sergeant with his life, so what if his only friend meets his wife. Nothing can go wrong, right?

Bonus:

On base, Ghost approaches Soap in the armoury, making sure no one is in ear shot. He gives the Scot a date, time and the name of a bus station somewhere in suburban Manchester. At Soap’s questioning look Ghost lets out a grunt ‘Wife wants you to come to dinner.’ At that Soap grins and accepts politely which prompts the lieutenant to threaten to kill him if he tells anyone about this.

The day when Johnny arrives at your doorstep comes faster than expected. You open the door and greet him, rather warmly which is a stark contrast to your husband’s harsh demeanour. Opposites do attract, he supposes. At dinner you listen to him talk, about their time on base, stories from missions, nothing too detailed though, and about his own family. He shows you pictures of his sisters and his nieces and nephews. They’re cute. You talk about your pupils, sharing stories of your own. Johnny perks up at the knowledge that you are a primary school teacher. He asks if he can have your number in case he needs help with their homework. You gladly give it to him, asking in return to keep an eye on Simon for you. He accepts your deal.

Johnny leaves after a couple of hours, going back to the hotel, even though you insist he can take the couch. But you know that Simon is glaring at him over your shoulder daring him to accept. Once he left you turn towards your husband hugging him and kissing him. You thank him for letting you meet his colleague, and he reminds you that he’d do anything for his lovely wife.

A couple of weeks go by. You’re in bed with Simon having a heated kissing session when your phone rings. Groaning you pull off from him and grab it. Johnny’s name lights up the screen and you answer. The conversation is short, something about math and how to use the graphic method to solve a problem. Simon listens intently seeing you smile conspiratorially. When you end the call, he grabs you and pushes you underneath him, trapping you between his body and the bed. ‘Why does Johnny have your number?’ the low rumble pulls a laugh from you. You know you have no chance to lie to him, he’ll see right through. You explain to him that he wanted it so he can ask you whenever he doesn’t know how to solve his nephews’ homework. He watches you not really convinced by your answer. ‘You hate talking to parents on the phone. What did you get him do? Spy on me on base and report back to you?’ Busted. You laugh and let out an even more unconvincing ‘no’ for an answer. He knows you too well.

[cherrybloosomgirl29]

Full House AU Part 3: Shopping

cover image by: @sunfloweraroace

Summary: Logan has to leave town for a mutant summit; he trusts Wade to keep up with the girls training. Wade has a different idea of fun… (Based on results from the poll)

A/N: This has been my fave idea so far! I hope ya’ll enjoy. I'm probably gonna have another poll for the next idea. From here on out this will be a weekly series that will be posted each Monday. If you have any ideas for future chapters or storylines please comment!

“Wade, I'm trusting you to do this while I’m gone at the summit, okay?”

Logan was just about to leave for a summit on mutant rights. He is attending as moral support for his fellow X-Men, Jean and Storm. They will be giving a speech on mutant rights and activism in front of thousands of guests.

”I got it Lo.’ Give the girls a training session and help them study for their combat tests,” Wade says while helping his husband pack.

”Okay, but no funny business okay? Take them to the danger room, help them with their homework, make them dinner, and then tell them to go to bed,” Logan says with a serious look on his face. He knew Wade tended to get a little off track when hanging out with the girls.

“Yes sir,” Wade says while giving Logan an exaggerated military salute.

A few hours later Logan is on his way to Los Angeles for the summit, while Wade and Logan’s four foster daughters, Rogue, Kitty, Jubilee, and Laura, have just arrived home from school. Wade gives each of his daughters a kiss on the forehead as they come in.

“How was school girls? Were you and Remy caught sneaking out of class again? Yeah, I heard about that” He says with a smirk while looking at Rogue.

”No but Remy asked Rogue to go homecoming with him!” Kitty squeals.

“Yeah, he painted a whole bouquet of roses black just for her!” Jubilee gushes; happy for her sister.

Laura smirks clearly, finding her usually cool goth older sister blushing.

Wade smiles. He is proud of all the progress Rogue has made since she was welcomed into his and Logan’s home. Just a short while ago Rogue was too scared to touch a guy much less date him; now she was going to a school dance.

”Well I’m happy for you Peanut. However, we have a lot of work to do. We gotta train in the danger room for a bit then get working on some schoolwork.” He tries his best to exude the serious aura that makes the girls heed Logan’s commands.

“AWWWW why?” Jubilee pouts, “I was gonna play my new game.”

“I was gonna listen to the new Ethel Cain album.” Rogue sighs disappointed.

Laura motions to a stack of comics in her hand indicating she found reading the new releases more important than training at the moment.

”I was gonna force Rogue to come with me to the boutique to pick out her homecoming dress.” Kitty says while looking down at the ground.

That… that gave Wade an idea. No. He promised Logan he would help the girls get their tasks done.

”None of your usual funny business,” he thought to himself.

An hour later the girls were hard at work in the danger room. Rogue was using her super strength to rescue Jubilee from a crumbled building in the simulation while Kitty was using her phasing ability to rescue Laura from a prison cell.

After they have completed the challenge, Wade tells the girls to take a break.

”You’d look stunning in an emerald green dress.”

“Or maybe with a little tiara to match?”

”You should wear heels!”

Suddenly the talk of the girls about Rogue’s homecoming outfit becomes overwhelming as all the girls are talking over each other at once.

”All right! All right!” Wade raises his voice so the girls can hear him over their chatter.

”Okay, I know you girls are very excited about Rogue’s plans. And, I know you are not gonna be able to settle down and work on school assignments until Rogue gets her dressed. Soooooooooo we are going on a family shopping trip.” Wade was trying to justify his actions to himself. He secretly just wanted to spoil his daughters and get them all pretty outfits to wear.

The girls all jump in excitement. Even though Laura wouldn’t be able to attend homecoming being too young, she still wanted to see her sister look all pretty.

“And ALL of you are getting something pretty and badass to wear. You don’t need dates to have fun at a dance. Any guy or girl would be lucky to have a night out with you.” Wade says visibly excited about being able to spoil his daughters.

About half an hour later they arrive at a boutique that sells formal dresses.

”Alright! We are not gonna be looking at price tags today girls, pick out whatever makes you feel beautiful.” Wade says giving the girls free reign over the store.

”And you are gonna be my little helper!” Wade says, looking at Laura. “You’re gonna use that brutally honest side that you got from your father and make sure your sisters pick out the outfit that suits them best.”

Laura smiles at Wade ready to help her sister.

Rogue was up first. Her three top choices were a black skin-tight satin dress paired with black formal gloves, a short dark green velvet dress with a corset top, and a long dark purple dress that had a high waistline and a puffy skirt.

After a harsh judgment from Laura, she decided on the green one ultimately. She paired the dress with black platform heels and black formal gloves.

Kitty was stuck between choosing a short satin pink dress and a long tight light blue dress. The grossed-out expression on Laura’s face alerts her immediately that the blue dress is not the one for her.

Jubilee is immediately drawn to a fancy yellow jumpsuit that suits her unique style. Luckily, Laura loves it as well.

After Wade pays for the girls’ outfits, he stares at the receipt in shock.

Logan was gonna kill him. Maybe worse considering he can’t actually die. He was sure whatever Logan was gonna do once he saw how much money he spent was way worse than death.

The next night Logan came home from his summit. When he got home he immediately went looking for his husband

“Wade. I saw the charge on my credit card. A THOUSAND DOLLARS?! FOR WHAT???”

Wade looks down sheepishly. “I just wanted to help Rogue feel more confident.”

Logan raises his eyebrow at him. “Did you at least train with them?”

Wade nods “Oh yes I did! They were much more productive after getting them the dresses! And… I actually spent one thousand and five dollars.” He says while pulling out a coffee mug with words “World’s Best Husband” on it.

Logan takes the mug and lets out a small smile. “Okay… I guess your way works too sometimes. I don’t always have to be so strict on the girls.”

”Well if it wasn’t for you we would never get anything done. I would have drained our bank account ages ago.”

The girls watch their dads interact and sigh. They complement each other perfectly.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {25}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, fluff - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

I was going crazy. I had to be.

Pierre had disappeared first, then Granny had excused herself with Matthew before Grandad skipped along after with a feeble excuse of wanting to get to know her new husband and make sure he was treating her well. Then Otmar said he needed to find Esteban but he had walked off in the opposite direction to where you could see his dark head of hair two tables over.

As I sat alone at the table, wondering what had happened to everyone, I looked around for a familiar face but instead I heard a giggle that I knew well. I spun around at the sound and froze as I found everyone that had gone missing and then some.

Pierre stood in front of all of our family that had flown in for the final race, Addie grinning from his arms.

Everyone was dressed in to the nines and they looked like they belonged on the red carpet they would have walked to enter the event. I had never seen my mum in a ball gown but she looked absolutely gorgeous, just like Pierre’s mother, the two women linking their arms together as they smiled at me.

My eyes were drawn back to Pierre as he stepped forward and carried Addie with him, her excitement making her clap her hands. My heart started beating erratically with each step and I rose to my feet to meet him face to face.

“Pierre…” I whispered as he kissed Addie’s temple and placed her feet on the ground.

“I have spent hours planning what to say, but when I look at you, I can barely remember how to breathe. I thought my life had purpose until the day you and Addie walked into my garage. You turned my world upside down and I will forever be grateful for finding the parts of me that were missing.” Pierre gracefully dropped to one knee and took Addie’s hand. “You make me want to be the best version of myself, to be a father that makes his little girl proud…and a husband that spends every day showing his wife she is loved. I can’t do that without you, Bri. Will you marry me?”

I knew then why Granny had insisted on waterproof makeup as I tried to blink away the tears so nothing would blur the image of Addie handing Pierre a small white box. Pierre thanked her sweetly before peering up at me, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears while his fingers trembled as they opened the box.

I wasn’t the only one that gasped as the three gemstones caught the lights. It was a beautiful ring; a large sapphire set between two diamonds that sparkled like the many shorelines we had walked hand in hand.

I had no words but I didn’t need them. He knew me better than I knew myself and his smile widened as my bottom lip trembled and I nodded as more tears fell. My hand shook more than his as he slipped the ring onto my finger and kissed it before standing up, scooping Addie up with him. His arm curled around my waist and my feet were swept off the floor as he spun around to the cheers of our families and friends.

Our kiss held the hint of salt from our tears that united on our cheeks until Addie pushed her hand between us and we pulled away with a laugh.

“I can’t believe you hid this from me.”

Pierre rested his forehead against mine and sighed. “I never want to do anything like this again, I felt ill trying to keep this a surprise.”

“Well, that’s a good start,” I teased, “it would raise a red flag if you wanted to propose again.”

He chuckled and dipped his lips to my ears. “That’s not what I meant.”

I pulled away with a smile and waved my mum over. “I’ve actually got my own surprise. I was going to wait until tomorrow but since everyone is here…Mum?”

“Right here, honey,” she said as she pulled the folded papers out of her clutch. “Been carrying these around all day just in case.”

Pierre wet his dry lips with his tongue as he wondered what she was handing me. I let him take Addie’s weight as I used both hands to unfold the documents that had been six months in the making.

The crowd around us had grown substantially and most of the drivers were amongst our families with their principals as well. Everyone here knew my story, they knew my history, and they had been there to support Pierre and I with the aftermath of it becoming public news.

“To everyone here you are already Addie’s dad,” I said as I straightened out the kinks in the pages, “and there is no one I know that is a more patient, caring man deserving of the title than you.”

Addie smooshed Pierre’s cheeks together and grinned at him, his own smile widening in response as she cooed, “My daddy.”

“That’s right, ma fille.”

I handed him the papers and he took them with one hand.

“You’ve already promised her that she can take the Gasly name when she turns eighteen but what if I said she didn’t have to wait?”

“How?” he asked with astonishment as he shifted Addie to his hip so he could flip through the papers, pausing at the page where four signatures were already inked, penned beside yesterday's date.

“I know a good lawyer,” I said with a grateful smile to my mum.

I had feared the day Erik was released from prison and tried to get back into my life through Addie. After quite a bit of digging, mum had found out Erik and Trent were only working together for the money they knew would come by blackmailing my family. Erik never wanted a relationship with Addie, and I had never been more relieved. He had happily signed away his parental rights with his lawyer and a witness and I had accepted it with mine.

“What is that?” Jean-Jacques asked when a tear slipped over Pierre’s lashes.

Pierre smiled at his dad. “The best gift ever. Does anyone have a pen?”

Lewis was ready with one that he carried around to sign autographs with and he grinned as he saw the letterhead of the document when he handed it over. “Congratulations, man.”

Without Erik being able to interfere it was going to be a relatively simple process for Pierre to adopt Addie like he had once wished when we were out one night and saw a shooting star. It had seemed like a far-fetched idea at the time but I couldn’t shake the image of hope on his face as he talked about being a family in every sense of the word, a family that would one day grow.

Charles pushed forward and peeked over Pierre’s shoulder as he signed the forms that would begin the process and he gasped. “Adoption Order? No way! That’s like the best news of the night, ah, well, equally best news, of course, since I’m going to finally be your best man. So when is the wedding?”

“Bro, we just got engaged,” Pierre laughed as he handed the signed papers over to my mum to take care of and pulled me back into his arms.

“Yeah, but you made a ten year plan the second you met her.” Charles looked around the drivers and pointed to Daniel. “We even held a little funeral for you at the Monaco afterparty, didn’t we?”

Daniel tipped his head back with a roaring laugh that was contagious. “Another bachelor gone but not forgotten.”

“Haha, really funny,” Pierre said with a roll of his eyes but he couldn’t contain his own laughter. “I’ll remember this when you assholes finally settle down.”

“Daddy, that’s a naughty word,” Addie tutted, encouraging another round of laughs from his colleagues.

“I’m sorry, but they deserve it.” Pierre looked around the gathering and saw even the investors had joined the crowd. “Now, I think I have rubbed enough elbows for the evening that no one will protest if I go and celebrate with my family.”

Pierre laced his fingers with mine, lifting my hand to admire the ring that fit perfectly upon it with a beaming smile. His nose grazed along my jawline, his lips softly trailing until he reached my ear and whispered, “You have made me the happiest man, my beautiful fiancée.”

“I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to keep you that way.” I tugged on the bowtie he hated to wear and unbuttoned the top of his dress shirt so he could relax a little bit in the formal attire. “It’s a shame we aren’t in Vegas anymore.”

“My mum would probably kill me if we eloped.”

I giggled and nodded, knowing my own wouldn’t be happy with the idea either. “And my mum would probably get her off the charges. So a big wedding?”

“Go big or go home.”

“Alright, alright, enough whispering sweet nothings among lovers,” Charles teased as he approached. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”

“Oh, sorry, Leclerc, Alpine family only,” Otmar chimed in as he swiped his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “Unless you’re looking for a new team next season?”

I rolled my eyes and nudged the crestfallen Ferrari driver. “Tonight’s an exception, right Uncle?”

Otmar narrowed his eyes at the term I hardly used once I grew older. “She’s playing dirty. Fine, you can come but I know it’s only because you hate these events as much as Pierre.”

“I’m not going to deny that,” Charles said with a grin to his friend.

“Don’t stay out too late,” Frederic reminded his driver before making his way back to Ferrari’s table, a final piece of advice cast over his shoulder with a wave. “You can drink as much as you want tomorrow night.”

I turned to Pierre. “Why didn’t you wait until tomorrow?”

“Do you want me to hold onto it another day?” he asked with a cheeky grin as he reached for my ring and I pulled it back.

“No, I was just curious.”

His smile faded as he turned thoughtful. “Because we never know what will happen out there and I knew I would regret missing this moment if I didn’t.”

He saw how his words affected me and passed Addie over to Charles so he could pull me fully into his arms. “I wish I could promise you everything will be okay.”

“I prefer your honesty,” I replied softly as my lips hovered over his. “No regrets.”

Click here for chapter twenty six.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts @alwaysclassyeagle @dr3lover

[everythingblackblack]

Could you please share your thoughts on Kuroba Toichi? What was he like as a husband, father and master (Jii)? How did he get along with Aoko and her parents? Did his civilian life have any ties to Kid as a suspect or rival? What was he like as a Magician, he had many fans and seemed close with his teacher? How was he as Kaitou 1412/Kid, he seemed rather intimidating when he was meeting his 'big brother' Shinichi, Nakamori is very obsessed and he seems to have a rather 'good' reputation?

I will choose to ignore the events of M27 and respond.

Well…

I like to think he was the first one to fall in love, the Phantom Lady also left notes about her heists. Maybe even Chikage did dramatic performances like Kaito? Only instead of a magic act, it was a house of horrors.

My thought is that Toichi fell in love with her on one of her heists and started looking for information about her, he wanted to get to know her better and know her story.

I imagine it was frustrating for him not to be able to ask out the girl who had been looking for him for so long, and then all of a sudden she… backs out! I like to think he was devastated… But then more heist notes appeared, he had hope!

Well, I like to think that Toichi was in love and crazy enough to say "She's great and I'm in love! Since she's a thief she surely won't trust me if I'm not one right?! Then I'll become one!"

When he sees her at the robbery where he meets her, Being the good magician that he is, he hides his feelings, but in reality he was quite excited and nervous to meet her, he rehearsed the words he would say to her a lot of times in the mirror because he was afraid of ruining it.

Since we don't get much of Toichi, I like to think of him as a fool in love with his scary wife. (I guess that's why I like Akako x Kaito). I mention all that to say, I think Toichi is a husband obsessed with his wife, and gives her a rose every morning. He's a magician! It must be easy for him to have flowers!

Oh, as a fun fact, I like the idea of ​​Toichi being a housewife when he's not at work, though he can't cook at all and leaves that to Chikage.

I have this mental image of Toichi holding baby Kaito in one arm, while holding the vacuum cleaner with his free hand. Chikage then enters the house with a stolen painting and yells, "Honey, I'm home from work!". I like to think that Chikage sometimes helped him with his KID work.

So far, in almost all of Toichi's flashbacks, Kaito has appeared. Kaito literally met Yukiko in one of his classes!

Which leads me to think that he was the one who was primarily in charge of raising his son.

I can just imagine baby Kaito crying for his dad, and Chikage having to dress up as Toichi to stop Kaito from crying.

And her saying: "Why do you love him more? I had you with me for 9 months!"

In Jii's case, I feel like the reason he's so dedicated to serving him is because Toichi saved his life, not literally, but in a more metaphorical way, maybe Jii was in a bad place when he met Toichi, and it was an encounter that marked his life forever.

I feel like they both see each other as family, Jii was always constantly worried about Toichi's safety and health, I like to think that when he saw him planning robberies or magic tricks until late and it wasn't for a last minute performance, he would force him to go to sleep, something like:

"I'm a grown man now, I can sleep late if I want!"

"It's still bad for your health, drink this hot chocolate and go to sleep!" It has been mentioned that Toichi was one of the most famous magicians in Japan, and even had a nickname by which fellow magicians referred to him as "the magician of orient."

He even met his wife in Paris before he had a magic show.

That's why I imagine Toichi must have had a huge fan base, I think the way performers are treated in Japan it was probably known that he was married but no one knew who his wife was or if he had any kids.

I imagine Toichi taking baby Kaito to the supermarket, he has a cap and mask on but has to take the mask off when his son starts crying, then as he's comforting his son a fan sees him and is shocked because no one knew Kuroba Toichi had kids, Toichi notices this, when he makes sure Kaito is calm he puts him back in the stroller, looks at the fan, gives him a rose and winks "Let this be our secret." I think unlike Kaito, Toichi was luckier in the sense that aside from Nakamori, no one seemed too interested in him (I won't count Yuusaku for these situations).

I imagine that before he died he was very close to his former mentor, James Hopper.

I like the idea that Kaito and Judy actually met at some point in their childhood!

Maybe they even had play dates while their father and grandfather caught up.

I like to think that Toichi had a classy and silent version of KID, the last years he was active were probably when he became more bloodthirsty.

I want to believe that was because of Chikage! Toichi mentioned that he didn't like that kind of jokes, so I choose to believe that she corrupted him over time.

Also, maybe he wanted to seem hostile because a criminal organization was interested in him, and he thought that would keep them away.

I think Toichi talked a lot with Nakamori as KID, they got along well, but she really got on his nerves, almost as much as Kaito does.

I like to think that Toichi as KID would make such stupid and ridiculous comments to Nakamori like "I know you have a daughter, I have a son, you two should play together" and Nakamori would get angry and say that it was ridiculous "My precious daughter won't play with the son of a criminal, and that poor baby should grow up in a proper place!"

I'm sure Toichi once took Kaito on a robbery just to show him to Nakamori.

Toichi was a cool neighbor with a weird wife, so in conclusion they were both good but weird neighbors!

Midoriko got along well with Chikage, they were probably good friends, although it was hard for her to keep up with that tornado.

Nakamori once overheard them talking about murder, and that's how she found out that Chikage liked grotesque jokes, then she saw Kaito and Aoko playing with a retractable knife and didn't know how to feel.

On one hand, this somehow increased the creativity of the children, on the other… this was certainly worrying.

I think Toichi liked Aoko because she accepted Kaito as he was.

I have the headcanon that Chikage is French! And therefore Kaito is half French, it's just not noticeable because he looks more like Toichi!

In the anime 1412, Chikage mentions that her first date with Toichi was at a French restaurant, which makes me wonder if they lived in Paris for a while before going to Japan. Toichi might have feared that Kaito suffered from xenophobia, perhaps even Kaito's Japanese wasn't too good back then.

[thenon-fictiondays]

Hirano to Kagiura light novel translation 4-1

Chapter 4: Fall.

Part 1

Prev || Next

It might be September by now, but the sun’s rays know no bounds.

Heat from the weather aside, the schoolhouse on the coattails of summer break is permeated with the fervor of the students.

Among all those in the athletic clubs who have undergone away games and training camps, there are many who have deepened both their tans and their virility. The sense of achievement characteristic of those who kept up with their exercise lives within their growth spurts.

Hirano’s roommate is, once again, one of them.

Kagiura, who’s gotten a bit taller, has gotten used to high school, completely devoid of the anxiety he’d seemed to have around the time he’d started school.

Since they’d met up over the summer, he’s become more and more relaxed, and Hirano can’t help but think of him as a beloved younger brother.

Wait, but younger brothers don’t do things like give you earrings, do they?

Hirano isn’t really in a position to judge, with no siblings of his own.

He’d found his original earrings while organizing his luggage after returning from Kagiura’s countryside home. They’d fallen into his school bag and hidden themselves beneath the stiff bottom plate.

What should I do about it? he’d wondered, but figured well, whatever, and didn’t bother switching out his new ones. He’ll keep them in the dorm just in case, but ultimately plans to keep using the ones Kagiura gave him.

As soon as the new term starts, preparations for the Cultural Festival are full speed ahead. Even the first years, who aren’t used to running events without the guidance of a faculty member, are gradually gaining opportunities to build character. The Executive Committee members have so many responsibilities that it has become difficult to carry out their studies without the cooperation of their classmates.

Kagiura also has the situation of being part of the ‘Sports Recommendation Squad’, and his grades are not up to snuff. It would be good if they don’t take a hit from his extracurricular responsibilities, but that will come down to his own efforts.

It’s not just the Executive Committee members who are swamped. The students in the culture clubs are also at their busiest, and with the autumn tournament right around the corner, there’s no way the athletics clubs can cut back on practices.

The sweltering nights have yet to abate; yet despite these conditions which could even be called cruel, most of the students are eagerly awaiting the Cultural Festival. You might even get away with saying all of them.

Because, after all, girls come to visit the cultural festival. 

And even without that element, a festival is still a festival. 

This is a time when the whole student body is restless, so the Disciplinary Committee will be on top of keeping everyone in line—or such is their public stance, but they won’t be too strict about moderating uniforms and hair styles.

In any case, a high proportion of the students will be in costumes on the day of the festival. 

There's also at least one class cross-dressing every year. 

This year, that’s right, it's the class that Hirano is unfortunately a part of. More specifically, it's been decided that Hirano will be one of the ones in drag. 

Oiwa-san—a famous spirit who makes an appearance in the Yotsuya Kaidan.¹

There are many variations of the famous ghost story, in which Oiwa, the deceased wife, holding a grudge over the betrayal of her husband, Iemon, slaughters every last person involved. Apparently, they will be basing the makeup off of Tōkaidō Yotsuya Kaidan², which is popular among Hirano’s classmates.

He’d been shown reference images of the ghost, her face half disfigured and inflamed by poison, but the picture was nightmare fuel when viewed in the dark.

Supposedly it’s a style of Halloween makeup that’s been popular in recent years, but the trial makeup that had been applied to his arm after school in order to match the shade to his face had been truly grotesque.

This information is to be kept top secret until the last possible minute on the day of, in the interests of building hype.

While Hirano is putting away his homework, the door opens with a click.

His roommate is home.

It’s still bright outside, but the dining hall is just about to open for dinner.

“Hirano-san, I’m home!”

“Welcome home, Kagi-kun.”

These days, Kagiura usually gets a bit bashful in reply to Hirano’s greeting, seemingly tickled. So naive and innocent he must be, making such an expression with no fear of being misunderstood.

There were days they’d spent together, but summer vacation had been long.

There’s an air of a different kind of newness from the one there’d been in the period before they’d gotten used to sharing a dorm—Kagiura probably feels it too. At least, Hirano thinks so.

He feels closer to Kagiura compared to before. After all, he’s met his immediate and extended family, so of course they’d feel more intimate. It’s as if the part of himself that had been on guard while thinking about how to act as a senpai in his second year in the dorms has been absolved.

After Hirano had filled out his print-outs as if in competition with Kagiura, who’d spread out his homework in a frenzy, they’d headed to the dining hall a little later than usual.

It always takes him about 3 or 4 days to get back into the swing of dorm life.

Speaking of which, he thinks.

Before Kagiura moved into the dorms, Hirano had been quite nervous.

He’d talked to Hanzawa about it one time when the Disciplinary Committee had a meeting, and they’d brainstormed strategies to avoid scaring Kagiura off.

He’d also felt it would be a waste of his efforts if he was only friendly at the beginning of their time spent living together; thus, they’d come to the conclusion that it wouldn’t be too far out of Hirano’s depths to give him a nickname and use “-kun”.

Oh yeah, that’s right. At the beginning I called him Kagiura-kun.

He’s been calling his name every day, enough that he’d ended up shortening it, thinking it’s too long and clunky.

Kagiura has morning practice tomorrow, too, so there's no way he can let him oversleep.

Hirano got that, but there was something on his mind that just wouldn’t go away, so he asked before shutting off the lights. 

".....Hey, um. I know you're working hard, so I don't wanna rain on your parade, but are your studies going all right? I haven't heard how your proficiency test went yet."

As the words leave his mouth, he thinks, what am I, a private tutor? and laughs drily to himself.

For the results of the test held right after summer break, a list ranking every student in their grade and the standard score were passed out to each person, the same as for the periodic exams.

For first years, they can be used as nothing more than a reference, but due to the breadth of the material covered, in some cases they might be used to determine which schools to apply to when compared to results from previous cram schools.

“...I just barely passed.”

“What’s the damage?”

“The teacher said, ‘You didn’t do badly enough that I need to pull you aside, but keep working hard’...”

“I see.”

Which is bad in and of itself, really.

Kagiura hangs his head dejectedly, and Hirano’s tempted to comfort him all the more for having seen the extent of his efforts, but his lack of preparation is unmistakable.

“Kagi-kun, after the cultural festival is over, you gotta step it up. If you miss some of the notes, get someone to show you theirs before the next day. Don’t let them build up. If you end up with a backlog of notes to take, you’re not gonna be able to understand them.”

Hirano knows deep down he’s probably worrying too much, but he keeps the expression on his face stern. The beginning is the key to everything. Among his classmates in the ‘Sports Recommendation Squad’ who, like Kagiura, are bad students, there are many whose grades plummeted after going on to their second year.

Who knew he’d become this much of a worrywort after becoming someone’s senpai?

“Yeah…Hirano-san, will you teach me again?”

“Sure. But you better bring back good grades.”

“I will! …By the way, can I ask you something?”

He ducks his head as he asks the question, a gesture with all the charm one would expect from someone as cute as him.

“What’s up?”

“When you were a first year, did the senpai you roomed with teach you how to study, too?”

“Nah, no way.”

“Hm…did you not get along?”

“It’s not that we didn’t get along, we just weren’t really that close. I wasn’t nearly as friendly a kouhai as you are.”

This is usually the case for dorm students. Hanzawa, contemptuous of homosexual relations, has a reputation in certain circles for having a finely-tuned gaydar and showing up to cockblock any time he senses anyone getting a little too close.³

His distaste isn’t unwarranted; apparently it has to do with his family, so even Hirano feels bad for him.

“...Does that make me special, then?”

“Why are you so happy about that?”

At Hirano’s jests of what are you, a dog? Kagiura breaks into a grin.

“Yeah. You know, I’m glad I’m your roommate, Hirano-san.”

Hirano smiles wryly; Kagiura’s got him wrapped around his little finger without a hint of insincerity.

With Kagiura cozying up to him like this, he doesn’t stand a chance.

*****

T/N: (1) Not sure I need to add more info on this to the story, but it's pretty interesting, so you can read more about it here.

(2) A movie based on the story made in 1959.

(3) Yall....idek what to say about this. I tried to keep the tone lighthearted but the original text literally says 'gay-hating Hanzawa' and describes his feelings as disgust. Idk why the writer put this but our boy is NOT like that 😭 I actually broke my vow of not looking at the official TL just to see how they handled this bit and they completely watered it down lmao. and tbh, yall know my dedication to accuracy but I WAS TEMPTED. While going back and forth about what I should do, I told my sister about it, and she suggested that Hanzawa doesn't actually hate gays, he just hates gay sex and will stand for none of it in his dorm so...we're going with that interpretation 💀🙃💀🙃

Prev || Next

Special shoutout to @jeizet, @jujupanic, @massyworld, @umbreonwolfy, and @acidsuzanne-blog for sponsoring these updates 🙌

[sea-owl]

So I'm listening to An Unhealthy Obsession and I just imaging Violet and Edmund saying some parts of the song to Portia. So I have a whole scene based off of it too. Because I'm delusional for Portia x Violet x Edmund at the moment. But in this one I would like the say Archibald is very much still alive and Edmund too but Penelope and her sisters are married. Now you can absolutely add onto this! and I wanna hear you out on the idea of them all together

Violet trapped Portia in a corner of her own house. Most people will call it creepy but she calls it love. She couldn't disturb the peace of the household.

"Lady Bridgerton, what has gotten into you?!" Portia nearly exclaimed, she held some parts of her dress in her hands. Most of the servants would be in the servants quarters and hardly anyone would likely catch them at the end of the hallway close to Portia's personal quarters.

"I've got a million reasons why I'm acting the way I do right now." Violet's breathed roughly and harshly as she reached her hand out to the woman before her and tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

"Violet, please. You're just drunk and your utterly scaring me." Portia tried to look beyond the brunette for some help. "You just don't know it yet, but you love me and we love you the same." Violet's eyes dilated as she gazed over the woman before her. The way her hair was partially down and how her lips parted at her words as if she was going to retort something to the lady.

"Violet. I think it's best to take a few breaths and we can talk about everything in the morning. I'm pretty sure your husband needs you back home before dark." Portia tried to move past her only to be pushed against the wall and she let out a surprised gasp.

"One day we'll have a pretty wedding, and we'll be your everything. We'll be together, yes forever, we will never ever part." Violet took Portia's hands into her own and kissed them gently as she stared down the woman who shivered.

"Edmund is your husband. You must make haste before my husband sees you are still here." Portia harshly whispered.

"Oh, you don't know it yet but baby we've already got your heart." That's when it dawned on Portia. The flowers she's received every day when they first moved in. The pieces of love letters that she hid from her husband when the flowers arrived. The way she started noticing very recently that some of her things were starting to go missing.

"It's the both of you?" She whispered more to herself than to the lady before her.

"Some call it stalking, I say walking just extremely close behind. I'm sure if I sat down and asked you, well, you really wouldn't mind." She heard another voice down the hall. Loud enough for the two women to hear but quite enough just for them to hear.

Edmund and Violet craved for the attention of Portia Featherington and they were going lengths to achieve it.

Oh, I haven't heard about that song in a minute. I remember that being on almost every yandere playlist. I still remember that reverse gravity falls video that introduced me to the song.

Since I am forever a believer in Irish Portia, I like to think she thought some fae bs was going on and she's been secretly wearing protective items. Like her iron bracelet she's been wearing under her sleeves and gloves. Or the rowan berries she had made into hair pins. The red of the berries hiding among the red of her hair.

Even when Violet pinned her against the wall, Portia thought maybe it was a changeling thing and was getting ready to pull her glove off to press the cold iron of her bracelet into Violet's skin. But when Edmund appeared, Portia began to realize the fae weren't involved at all. Edmund and Violet were two humans who were obsessed with her.

Portia was starting to wish it was some fae bs, least then she knew how to deal with them. This she didn't have the first clue on what to do.

[sirowsky]

--Meeting Expectations--

Alright, we're off! Today's the big day and this is the first of the six stories that I'll be posting. I won't beg and plead for people to reblog or comment, but I really would appreciate it, as this is my attempt to celebrate myself, on this one crappy day of the year.

This is the one story that's based on a prompt, by the fabulous @bilibiche You asked for Whiskey, and that's what you got!

Rating: Mature Warnings: Not much, but perhaps a little self-doubt and self-image issues? Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x female reader, established relationship. Word Count: 580 Author’s Masterlist

-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-

   “Oh, come on now, doll. You look positively scrumptious,” Jack drawls as his eyes shamelessly roam over your features.

   He looks hungry enough to mean it, but you’re still unsure about the dress. It’s a damned celebrity wedding, there’s gonna be paparazzi in every bush, and professional photographers inside both the church and the venue.    Looking good to the man who still thinks you’re gorgeous even when you’re wearing worn old sweats and you’re covered in dirt from tending to the horses and haven’t brushed your hair in a week, isn’t filling you with confidence at all.

   “I don’t wanna look edible, I wanna look respectable and elegant,” you shoot back, but that just prompts him to rise to his feet, approaching you with pure honey diluting the already smooth chocolate of his eyes.

   “Sweetheart, if looking only the way that the rest of the world expects you to look is what matters to you, then by all means, go change.    But I, for one, would much rather see you look like you, and be comfortable all night, than torture yourself in clothes that’ll make you feel disconnected and shallow.”

   Crap. He always knows exactly what to say to break down your defences.    And of course, he’s right as well. You are thinking only of not embarrassing yourself in front of the world press and hundreds of influential rich people, not about what you actually want or feel good about.

   The dress that you’re wearing is quite tough. Deep green with sections of creamy white and green leather, discreet contrast stitching in bright yellow and small lace detailing here and there, also in green.    When you’d tried it on at the store, it had felt so right on you, perfect for your figure and your personality, and when you’d taken it out earlier that morning while you were trying to decide what to wear, it had instantly spoken to you.

   You have other dresses, simpler and with cleaner lines, almost business-like in their restraint, as well as real red-carpet pieces that would certainly not be sneered at even by the most high-browed snob.    But those aren’t appropriate for a wedding, and they’re also just… not you.    You sigh heavily and step over to the far side of the closet where your shoes are stacked.

   “Don’t you dare pick heels, now, sugar,” he warns, knowing how much you hate wearing high heels, since you spend your days in boots or sneakers while working outside.

   You pick a pair of flat white ballerina style shoes, slip them on and then stare poignantly at your husband for a verdict, to which he simply smiles and nods his agreement from where he’s standing at the foot-end of the king-sized bed.

   “Perfect. We’re gonna be the hottest couple at the wedding,” he purrs, and you can’t help but smile.

   “Well, you’re certainly hot enough,” you hum, eyeing him up and down appreciatively, to which he proudly puffs up his chest.

   “Only next to you, darlin’. Only ever next to you.”

   “Oh, aren’t you full of praise today,” you say while playfully bumping your hip against his as you pass him on your way to the bedroom door.

   It makes him huff a laugh and before you know it, he’s caught up to you and has his hands on your waist, whispering in your ear, now with honey in his voice too.

   “What else is there to say? I just love you that much.”

THE END

-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-

Thank you for reading and helping me celebrate! I wish you a wonderful day <3

Tagging a few people who I think might wanna read these stories: @startrekkingaroundasgard @deadhumourist @tintinn16 @suttonspuds @tanzthompson @shsoba05 @f0rever15elf @justnat15 @lowlights @dornish-queen @radiowallet @spishsstuff @harriedandharassed @i-love-movies @tiffanypooh @chaoticfestninja @insomniamamma

[coochiequeens]

This Veterans Day don't let the media gloss over the women that served

By Lori Tobias | For The Oregonian/OregonLive

Ask most any of the 26,000 female Oregon military veterans about invisibility and not only will she know exactly what you are talking about, she’ll no doubt have a story or two of her own. That includes Dr. Nakeia Council Daniels, interim director of Oregon’s own Department of Veterans’ Affairs. Daniels said she didn’t even realize she was considered a veteran after servingin the U.S. Army from 1998 to 2003.

“I do not recall the word actually being used when I was processing out of the military,” Daniels said. “I remember the word civilian being used quite often in transition. There were no images of women. When I saw veterans, I saw older white men who had wartime paraphernalia on their headgear or on their clothing. Culturally, women have historically been disconnected. We don’t see ourselves as women veterans. I actually thought you had to be a certain age to be a veteran.”

Stories like Daniels are what inspired the “I Am Not Invisible” traveling photo exhibit created in 2017 by the Oregon Department of Veterans Affairs (ODVA) to “raise awareness and visibility of the women as veterans in Oregon.” This week, the exhibit is on display at Western Oregon University in Monmouth.

The idea for the exhibit grew out of a conversation with the Portland State University Veterans Resource Center, said Nicole Hoeft, ODVA Strategic Communications Division director. Oregon women veterans coordinator Elizabeth Estabrooks and PSU Veterans Resource Center director Felicia Singleton were in a meeting with women veterans discussing the veterans’ sense of feeling invisible. And from there, “I Am Not Invisible” was born.

“We wanted to make sure that we had a diverse group of women from all eras as well as positions and branches of service so that we could try to make sure that we had a photo or bio that would resonate with a majority of the other women that would be seeing this,” Hoeft said.

"Culturally, women have historically been disconnected. We don’t see ourselves as women veterans. I actually thought you had to be a certain age to be a veteran,” said Dr. Nakeia Council Daniels, interim director of Oregon’s Department of Veterans’ Affairs.Courtesy of Oregon Department of Veterans' Affairs

“When we go through the gate at the Portland National Air Guard, they look at my husband and expect him to give his card and don’t expect me to. And I outrank him. It never occurs to them that I am the officer,” says Mary Mayer, who retired as a colonel after serving for more than 30 years in the U.S. Air Force.Courtesy of Oregon Department of Veterans' Affairs

Liz Estabrooks, ODVA’s first women's veteran coordinator, and Sen. Jeff Merkley review the exhibit in Washington, D.C., in 2017.Courtesy of Oregon Department of Veterans' Affairs

The women veterans it resonates with include ODVA advisory board member, Mary Mayer. Like Daniels, Mayer also knows what it’s like to feel invisible, though she notes, “invisible means different things to different people.” In her case, it often also meant disrespected.

In 1972, Mayer went to Lackland Air Force Base for officer training, “It was the first time I met our squadron and one guy comes up to me and he says, ‘What are you doing in my man’s Air Force?’” Another time, Mayer needed help learning to march, a skill necessary to be an officer, but the drill instructor refused her request, hoping Mayer would “wash out.” It’s not only the obvious insults, like the lower ranking officer who refused to salute a woman, but the day-to-day slights, even in full dress uniform.

“Initially, we had black coats and white coats, kind of like a tuxedo, and I don’t know how many times I would have the white coat on and they thought I was the waiter,” Mayer recalled. “Another person thought I was a bus driver.” Retired as a colonel after serving for more than 30 years in the U.S. Air Force, Mayer still feels the sting. “When we go through the gate at the Portland National Air Guard, they look at my husband and expect him to give his card and don’t expect me to. And I outrank him. It never occurs to them that I am the officer.”

The issue of visibility isn’t only a lack of recognition but of access to benefits and resources, Daniels said. “This campaign gets right to the heart of education, outreach and awareness, not just to women veterans, but to the next generation that follows and to those military connected families … a way to reach out and ensure that in Oregon, all veterans are accessing their benefits and resources.”

It’s been more than six years since the “I Am Not Invisible” exhibit launched at the Portland Art Museum in February 2017. Mayer, who served on the Advisory Committee to the ODVA, recalled the opening day.

“The room was packed,” Mayer said. “Everyone was very moved. I mean, even the men. It was amazing. We were being seen for the first time. We really mattered.”

Since then, the exhibit has been replicated by the VA’s Center for Women Veterans, as well as dozens of state veterans groups. It was also on display in Washington, D.C., in the rotunda of the Russell Senate Office Building. It opened at the Western Oregon University in Monmouth on Monday and will be on campus through Nov. 11. It can also be seen at the Oregon Department of Veterans Affairs website and in a video presentation at the Pacific Maritime Heritage Center.

“We are extremely, extremely proud of the advocacy that this exhibit has been able to carry on not only for just the first few months, but for six years now,” Hoeft said. “To date, there have been thousands of people that have seen thousands of women veterans’ photos attached to the “I Am Not” Invisible campaign. … We are very, very proud of this whole engagement and our partnerships now with the federal VA and the other state VAs who are also replicating this exact campaign.”

— Lori Tobias, for The Oregonian/OregonLive

[mygif2u]

Another Life

Pairing: MaryAnna Character(s): Mary Crawley/Anna Smith Rating: G Warnings/Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Role Reversal, Time Travel

Anna did not know what kind of sorcery had been cast upon her to not only switch the lives of herself and Lady Mary, but to also send her back in time, but Anna knew that something must have happened to cause this. And, as impossible as it sounded, whatever that something was would need to happen again if Anna was to have any hope of going back to her old life.

Read it below, or on AO3.

A/N: Written for an exchange; based on the prompt for a Lady!Anna x Lady’sMaid!Mary AU, which caught my eye immediately (and in hindsight it’s such a glaringly obvious prompt I’m surprised no-one has done it for this ship before - so this is my take on it!) It is such a good idea, I think I may revisit/expand on it in the future. Given the time crunch for this piece though, I think this is the best I can give it for now.

I haven’t watched the show in ages, and stopped watching around Season 3, so apologies if certain details are missing or inaccurate. It is being assumed in this fic that the whole household (family and staff) are aware of a possible match being made between Mary and Patrick (if I remember right, this was a secret in the show’s canon.) This has been set pre-series/first episode of Season 1 (so we are really taking it back.)

Un beta-d so any mistakes are my own.

Enjoy!

**

The first thing that told Anna something was wrong was the sound of curtains squeaking along metal rails. The next was when she opened her eyes and saw that the room she was in was not the room she went to sleep in the night before. The thing that convinced her that something was thoroughly, completely, and utterly wrong, though, was when Lady Mary swept into view, dressed in her uniform, and greeted her with a warm smile.

“Good morning, Lady Anna.”

Anna remained still in her bed – which was not her bed, she realised with a dawning horror – and tried to tamp down on her growing panic. She was in Lady Mary’s room, in Lady Mary’s bed, and Lady Mary herself was referring to her as “Lady Anna” instead of simply as “Anna.” Perhaps, no, surely she must still be asleep?

Anna shut her eyes tightly, waited for the image of Lady Mary’s room to disappear from her mind along with her sight, and opened her eyes again, only to find that Lady Mary was still there, and her previously warm countenance had morphed into concern.

“My Lady?”

Anna blinked up at her.

“Is everything alright?”

Anna didn’t know what to say to her. Nothing was alright – her world had been turned on its head over night, and she hadn’t the foggiest idea how or why. She gaped up at Mary, trying to form an answer that didn’t make her sound completely mad.

“I...I just feel a little unwell, is all,” Anna replied haltingly.

Lady Mary’s concern faded slightly, and she gave Anna a gentle smile. It was a look so familiar to Anna that it calmed her briefly – it was a look that was a rare gift from Lady Mary, one she gave to so few. Anna counted herself fortunate to be one of the only people to be treated to it.

“It’s alright to be nervous.”

Anna frowned. Nervous was not the term she would use for whatever was happening here – world-shattering, mind-bending, life-altering, perhaps. But nervous? No, not quite.

“Even if you have known your future husband your entire life, a proposal from him is still quite a momentous occasion.”

Anna’s mind reeled at the words husband and proposal. She barely noticed Lady Mary stride to the other side of the room to set out her clothes for the morning – clothes that usually Anna brought out for her.

“A – a proposal?”

Lady Mary looked back at Anna.

“Well, it’s never a sure thing until he asks you the question, my Lady, but everyone has been anticipating that Mr Patrick’s visit this afternoon is when you will make your engagement official.”

Anna gripped the sheets of her – Lady Mary’s – bed as the words spoken to her sent her mind from a downward spiral into a complete freefall. Mr Patrick? The original heir of Downton, long thought to have perished in the icy waters of the Atlantic, not only lived, but was “anticipated” to be her husband?

If there had been any doubt of the utter wrongness of her situation before, it was completely gone now.

Anna did not know what kind of sorcery had been cast upon her to not only switch the lives of herself and Lady Mary, but to also send her back in time, but Anna knew that something must have happened to cause this. And, as impossible as it sounded, whatever that something was would need to happen again if Anna was to have any hope of going back to her old life.

“We really should get you dressed, my lady, or you’ll miss breakfast.”

The only way that was going to happen, though, was if Anna could get answers. And the only way Anna was going to be able to do that was learn as much as she could about this new life.

“Oh, yes, that – that would be a good idea.”

Anna untangled herself from the bed, trying not to trip on the bedsheets in her haste to get out, and almost ran into Lady Mary.

“Oh La – I mean, Mary, I’m so sorry!”

Lady Mary’s hands closed around Anna’s shoulders to steady her, and Anna noted the firm grip she had on her. It was different to the way Lady Mary – and really, until things righted themselves again, she should start to refer to her as “Mary” – usually touched her. There was a surety there that Anna was not used to, given that the other woman was sparing with her touch, but Anna found this trait in this ‘new’ Mary one she welcomed greatly.

“It’s quite alright, my Lady.”

Anna found herself looking up to meet Mary’s gaze and saw a disarmingly familiar fondness on the other woman’s face. It made Anna freeze in place and her breath catch.

“Ah, thank you.”

Mary kept a hold of her for a moment, regarding Anna silently before nodding and releasing her to fetch something else.

Anna let out a quiet breath as she realised what she would have to do next.

Heat rose in her cheeks as she started to undress, working the shift that she had worn during the night – which was far nicer than the ones that she usually wore to bed – over her head. It was an utterly bizarre feeling; she had seen her Mary – Lady Mary – in all manners of dress (and undress), and it never affected her. Anna could admit that her mistress was blessed with great beauty, however that fact did not stop her from keeping a steady head during her duties. This Mary – assuming she was as close to the Lady Anna of this new world as House Maid Anna was to the Mary of the other world – would no doubt have also seen her Lady Anna in all states of dress. So what did Anna have to worry about?

Anna placed the night shift on the bed, and was immediately draped in fabric again, this time in the dress Mary had chosen for her. Anna tried not to shiver as Mary smoothed the material of the dress along her shoulders. The touch was, again, not something Anna was used to from her Mary, and she found herself responding more enthusiastically than she ought to. For this Mary, such touches would be routine and automatic, and it would be best for Anna if she thought of this the exact same way. So Anna tried to distract herself by looking at her reflection in the mirror.

While she didn’t envy Mary her wealth, she had wondered once or twice what being in Mary’s position would be like. Seeing herself in Mary’s dress (although, Anna realised, it couldn’t be her Mary’s dress at all, as this one fit her body perfectly, and if it had, in fact, been exactly like Mary’s dress from the old world, the dress would have almost certainly dwarfed Anna’s shorter frame, given Mary’s slightly taller stature). It was an unfamiliar, but not unwelcome thing.

Mary then lead Anna over to her vanity, and set aside the earrings and necklace Anna would wear. Anna ran her fingers over an earring, one of a pair she would pick for Mary herself, before putting both of them in. She then stayed frozen as Mary stepped up from behind her to place the necklace around Anna’s neck. Anna tried to remain impassive as Mary’s breath puffed against the back of her neck, lifting the wisps of hair there. She watched Mary place the necklace carefully around her neck, and felt the slight brush of her fingers as she closed the clasp.

“There.”

Mary smiled at Anna in the mirror.

“Now he’ll have to say yes.”

Anna felt her stomach turn at Mary’s words. This was not a fantasy that her mind had conjured up, this was her very real new life. And if she wanted to return to her old one, with everything she knew and was familiar with, she could not forget that fact.

“Quite right, Mary.”

**

Cousin Patrick’s visit turned out to be far less eventful than Anna expected; while the whole household seemed to wait at attention for the entirety of the visit, Anna’s interactions with the gentleman himself were far more casual. They had luncheon, where the Crawleys relayed news Mr – Cousin – Patrick had yet to be privy to, and who in turn relayed news about visiting America in May. After the luncheon, when the family had parted ways, Cousin Patrick had taken Anna for a turn around the gardens, where he spoke candidly about the engagement. He needed to finish some business in America before he could do anything about marriage. Their engagement would therefore be tentative, but not official.

No proposal had been issued, and no ring was offered, to the great disappointment of the Crawleys. For Anna though, that brought with it conflicting feelings of relief and guilt. It confirmed what she had already suspected about the true events surrounding Mr Patrick and Lady Mary’s engagement; that it had not been formalised before Mr Patrick’s untimely end aboard the Titanic. It was, however, a guilt-laden experience for Anna, as she realised that this was likely the last time anyone at Downton would ever see Mr Patrick again, and that the reason she could know with certainty that she would not have to marry him was precisely because of that fact. And so while it was an almost earth shifting difference in experience to spend the day strolling through the estate as opposed to fluffing pillows and ironing bed linens, Anna did her best to be hospitable to Mr Patrick and extend what kindness she could to him.

It crossed her mind to try to warn him about his impending doom, and she had done so to no avail. Mr Patrick reassured her that his plans were for a month later than Titanic’s maiden voyage, and even if he did choose to sail at that time they would make the passage safely, as “nothing would be able to sink that ship.”

When Mary had dressed her for bed that night and tried to console her out of her morose mood by reassuring her that while the day did not end with a proposal, it was not a refusal either, Anna did not have the heart to correct her on the real reason for her glum state.

**

Months passed after that fateful day. Anna slowly adapted to her new life, and while there were things that still jarred her, such as understanding her relationships with the Crawleys as family members as opposed to employers, she was able to go about her day to day life with less trouble. It could rattle Anna’s nerves on occasion, when she would act a little too formally with one of the Crawleys, or too casually with one of the household staff, but otherwise she was able to take it all (mostly) in stride. At the very least, she was certainly enjoying the luxury of being able to sleep past six in the mornings.

It was the bond with Mary that Anna truly felt the difference in however; Lady Mary had few friends to speak of in the old world, and even fewer true friends. Having now spent time living the life of her Mary, she could truly grasp just how isolating it was. Being the eldest of the household, having Edith snipe at her every chance she could get (which Anna did her best not to rise to) and keeping an eye on Sybil, all while partaking in the activities of the social season, was far more taxing than Anna had ever given Lady Mary credit for.

It helped Anna appreciate the Lady Mary she had known even more than she already had before, and made the bond she shared with this world’s Mary all the more treasured. For it was this Mary whom Anna could say was her truest friend in this world. It made her wonder if this was what her Mary of the old world thought of their bond.

The months Anna spent as Lady Crawley was enlightening to say the least, however Anna was still no closer to knowing how to get back to her old life. That issue was brought to a head when the day that Anna had been dreading finally eventuated; the day when it was reported that the Titanic was lost to the depths of the ocean, with Cousin Patrick along with it.

“Mr Patrick might not have been onboard, my Lady.”

“Papa told me he had changed his plans.” As I knew he would, Anna thought grimly. “His name, along with Cousin James were on the passenger list.”

Mary pursed her lips in sympathy as she styled Anna’s hair for the evening, but remained silent. That was one thing that had remained the same between them; the Anna and Lady Mary of the old world would offer optimism and encouragement in the face of trouble, but not to the point of offering false hope. It was a small wonder that of all the things that could stay the same, it was their closeness that had remained. It buoyed Anna, and gave her hope she would find the answer she was seeking.

**

The epiphany came to Anna soon after that. Spurred on by the murmurings of a new heir to Downton that could safeguard both Lady Grantham’s fortune and the estate, Anna realised something incredibly important.

She couldn’t believe it had taken so long for her to realise it, but when she did, it seemed so obvious that she wondered how she had missed it.

Everyone from Anna’s old life had occupied the same roles as they did in this life – the only people who had undergone any change at all were herself and Mary. That was a fact that had struck Anna as particularly odd. What possible reason would a divine force – and Anna could not fathom anything but a divine force being at play at this point – have intended to affect just the two of them.

The more she thought about it, the more puzzling it became. There was still no obvious rhyme or reason as to why they were in this world, but Anna’s realisation was a big clue. Anna wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but clearly it had something to do with her and Mary.

But what it could it be? Nothing had been amiss between herself and Mary before they had woken up to this topsy-turvy world they now inhabited. In fact the only thing that could explain it was…

But no.

Surely, no.

It couldn’t be.

And yet, Anna didn’t have any other explanation for it.

There were no other options, and time was marching on.

If Anna didn’t explore this, they could be condemned to living this bizarre existence until the end of their days.

As much as Anna had grown used to this new life, and seeing this other side of Mary, Anna had always known (hoped) that it would not be permanent.

It seemed almost selfish on the surface when Anna first thought it, but ultimately it would be best for them all if Anna proceeded with it.

That is, if it worked.

And if it didn’t, she hoped Mary would forgive her.

**

It was getting into the later hours of the evening after everyone had retired, and Mary was helping her get ready for bed when Anna decided to attempt what had been on her mind all day.

“Is there anything else you need from me, my lady?”

Anna turned to look at Mary; sweet, lovely Mary – guarded and stoic like the Mary from her world, and yet almost tender when it was just her and Anna.

Anna’s heart trembled at what she was about to do, but she had to do it now or she would never have the nerve.

“Yes, there is one other thing I need from you, Mary.”

Mary nodded and waited silently.

Anna looked away, steeling herself for what she was about to say. “I must confess that this is something that has been troubling me for quite some time.”

“Oh. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Anna quirked her mouth at that – the eagerness in Mary to help at a moment’s notice was usually heartening. This time, though, it made it all the more difficult for Anna to continue.

“It is incredibly selfish of me to ask this but -” Anna looked up to face Mary then, who was looking at her with the same concern Anna had seen that fateful morning, when she had first woken up in this new world. As pleasant as pulling teeth this experience might be for Anna, Mary needed to see the sincerity behind Anna’s words.

“You mean so much to me, Mary – more than I can put into words.”

And then, before her courage could fail her, Anna uttered more quietly, almost breathlessly, “More than a mistress should care for her servant.”

Mary grew very still at Anna’s confession, and Anna felt like her chest was going to cave in on itself. The air in the room suddenly felt too thick, and breathing now felt like agony. Anna needed to salvage this, quickly.

“I’m so sorry to put you into this difficult situation -”

Anna’s words were cut off by a hand sliding into hers. Anna looked up at Mary, utterly thrown by the other woman’s sudden proximity. It was as though she had blinked and Mary had materialised before her from the other side of the room.

If breathing had been difficult before, it became almost impossible as Mary pinned Anna in place with a burning gaze that made Anna shiver.

“If what you are saying is true, my la – Anna,” Mary said softly, “Then I would be the happiest woman in the world.”

Anna let out a shuddering breath. The hardest part had been done, and Mary was still here, still holding her hand, still -

Moving towards her.

Closer, closer, just about to erase the distance completely between them, when Anna turned away. The puff of Mary’s shaky exhale brushed her cheek. Mary made to pull away, to retreat, but Anna held her fast. She couldn’t allow Mary to believe this was rejection.

“If you do this, it cannot be because I, as your mistress, desire it.”

The anguish that had tinged Mary’s gaze faded and was replaced with a renewed resolve. She drew close once more, a hair’s breadth apart from Anna and said, “If I do this, then you cannot accept it as a servant fulfilling her duty.”

The last of Anna’s hesitance fell away then, and she surged forward, dissolving the last of that aching distance to finally, finally, press her lips to Mary’s. Soft, so soft, and so right. Anna reached up to caress Mary’s cheek and jaw, sighing as they moved against each other. Anna could never understand people’s perception of Mary being a cold unfeeling figure, when the reality was that she was gentle, yielding, and so full of warmth and life, the heat of her thrumming under Anna’s touch. It was enough to make Anna’s head spin.

When they broke apart, the spinning didn’t stop.

Anna gripped at Mary’s shoulders, trying to ground herself as the spinning worsened. Her mind was growing foggy and heavy, and Anna was struggling to keep her eyes open.

“Mary, do you –?”

“Anna, I feel –”

Anna found herself slumping forward, further into Mary, who didn’t stop her.

She had sunk to the floor, and Anna soon found herself joining her, the fog in her mind completely taking over.

The last thing Anna saw were Mary’s lips moving to say her name.

“Anna...”

**

It felt like an eternity when Anna finally woke up, and another, smaller, eternity for her to orient herself in the waking world.

When she stirred, she heard a quiet, rhythmic breathing not far from her. Upon opening her eyes, Anna saw the burning red of Gwen’s hair, spilled out on the pillow of the bed across from Anna’s.

Anna remained frozen in her bed – it was her bed – and thought back to the dream she had the night before.

It had felt so real. A life so different, yet so similar to the one she had in her waking moments. One where she and Lady Mary had –

No.

It was just a dream.

Anna sat up as she heard the distant sounds of Mrs Patmore and Daisy already in the throes of the morning work. A quick glance at the bedside clock told Anna there was no time for a snooze before it would ring anyway. Time for her to start the day.

**

The first few hours passed in a blur – after being at Downton for so long, Anna could complete her duties without a second thought. Which was fortunate, as she found herself utterly preoccupied with thoughts of the previous night’s dreams.

There were little details that stayed in her mind, so strong that Anna couldn’t shake the feeling that they were things she had lived rather than dreamed. It unsettled her to feel like she had knowledge of things a woman of her class shouldn’t know – like what the cakes Mrs Patmore was making for tea really tasted like, how smooth the silk dresses the Ladys of the house wore felt draped over her skin, how it felt to have someone else run their fingers through her hair so she could be ready for a special occasion.

No dream she had ever had in the past had been so vivid, had remained in her memory so long after waking.

The bell ringing below Lady Mary’s name brought her out of those thoughts, and she hastened to push them out of her mind. Her Lady needed her, and Anna wasn’t going to start her Lady’s day with her head in the clouds.

**

Anna stepped into Lady Mary’s room after being summoned in.

She was met with the sight of Lady Mary facing her window, but upon hearing Anna enter, she had turned to face her.

And everything hit Anna all at once.

The things she had dreamt the night before; Lady Mary in Anna’s uniform, Lady Mary fixing silk dresses across Anna’s smaller frame, Lady Mary’s soft mouth on hers...

Those weren’t elements of a dream, but of memories.

And as Anna took in the clear desperation, almost panic on Mary’s face, Anna realised she hadn’t been alone in that world.

She never had been.

Anna hastily closed the door behind her as Lady Mary stood up from her bed.

Fear the likes of which Anna had never seen on her Lady before was etched into Mary’s exquisite – a descriptor Anna had not let herself think of her Lady before– features as she approached Anna.

“Anna.”

“Ma – my lady.”

Anna tried to stop Mary’s name from falling from her tongue, but she knew, even as she covered it up with the title, that Mary had caught it. Caught her.

“It wasn’t just a dream.”

Mary came closer and Anna barely had the wherewithal to shake her head.

“No, M –”

“Anna.”

Mary was looking at her with a worrying mouth and frantic eyes, yet Anna could see a quiet resolution in her. Something Anna had always admired about her.

“Call me by my name.”

And Mary was moving closer, and Anna was finding it harder to breathe. She was finding that she almost didn’t want to.

“Mary.”

No sooner had Mary’s name passed Anna’s lips were Mary’s pressed against them.

Mary’s hands slipped along the back of Anna’s head and neck, and Anna’s gripped Mary’s waist as they lost themselves in the kiss.

“Oh Anna,” Mary breathed as she kissed along every inch of Anna’s cheeks, jaw and chin. Anna sighed, basking in Mary’s fervent attention. Anna ran her hands along Mary’s shoulders, finding delight in the fact that she was now free to do so.

Mary drew back and rested her forehead on Anna’s.

“Oh darling, what are we going to do?”

Anna’s heart soared even as her stomach sunk at Mary’s words. Darling had made sparks skitter across Anna’s skin, and even though despondence coloured Mary’s question, the fact that it was voiced at all gave Anna hope that Mary wanted a future with her.

Anna tilted her head back so she could meet Mary’s gaze. She leaned up to place a whisper of a kiss to Mary’s lips and held her tight to her chest.

“We’ll sort something out, Mary. I promise.”

A/N: I’m not sorry for the gratuitious use of italics in this.

[blookmallow]

y’all i am so sorry i failed you

i just found this buried a year into my drafts and realized. i never posted my animatronics ratings for last year’s spirit halloween releases. i started it and i never finished it. it’s now closing in on halloween season again and i still haven’t done it. im ashamed. i am so sorry  

ANYWAY, here’s, uh, my. 9 month late 2022 spirit halloween opinions, happy summerween i guess 

Mr. Punchy 

NEW CLOWN NEW CLOWN fuck yes i love a new clown

also for some reason the first sentence of his description made me lose it 

BIG fan of this just from a visual standpoint, i love the colors, love the hair. i like the light-up face on this one a lot, most spirit clowns ive seen fall into either “Clown Who Is A Monster/Creature” (crouchy, hugz) or “Clown Who Is A Scary Guy” (wally, henry hussle) but this one feels very “evil fun house prop” which i really think works for it. im assuming he’s based on punching-bag clowns, which i haven’t seen them do before, but the fact that his body is a Ball also gives me the mental image of him violently bouncing toward you which is good as well. theres a certain manic energy about this guy that im really fond of. i like him i would like to see him 7/10 

Spike

standard zombie torso figure, though it does have some interesting implications given that Stab The Brain is the generally agreed upon best way to deal with zombies, but this guy seems to be doing just fine despite the giant stake in his head. the website description says he got it from his wife attempting to mercy kill him once he turned zombie but she failed so he’s just stuck like this now. it does not explain why stake to the brain didn’t work, though (the implication is that she missed or something but clearly she didn’t. ive never heard of zombie brains having a very specific precise spot you have to hit to kill them, this looks like it should’ve worked to me) 

something about the bLurghHGhRUrrh noises he makes and the little nicely buttoned flannel shirt with jagged obviously-cut-out-intentionally tears at the bottom is very funny to me. i like to think his wife has accepted the situation and he just lives on the porch scaring away birds and stuff now. 5 /10 hes not really anything special but he brings me joy 

Rat Girl

it’s... fine. she’s a Creepy Little Girl. she’s got a rat. it’s not particularly inspired but I don’t dislike it. she doesn’t really do anything but i like the eye movement. 5/10 

Lil Skelly Bones

this is a variation of another animatronic they had previously, same lil guy but now he’s a jumpscare figure instead of a swinging one. not really a fan of stuff that’s Just “jumps out at you” and thats all but he’s pretty cute. love how Small he is. whats even going on here, is he a skeleton dressed as a skeleton?? i don’t know. it’s very cute. 5/10 

Tombstone Terror

on a surface level this is just a tombstone with a skull that pops out and yells at you. it looks nice, it’s designed well, but it’s about as basic as it gets as far as the concept goes. the description for this one really makes it though, because evidently this skeleton’s name is Steve and he used to be the graveyard caretaker who loved his job so much he stuck around after death to continue protecting the graveyard

his name is steve and he loves this graveyard so much. 6/10 its very uncreative as a prop but it gets a bonus point for steve 

The Widow 

this one looks really familiar i feel like they had a very similar one previously? i dont know. anyway she’s very scary looking and the Neck Snap motion is really unsettling to see. one of those rare animatronics that i actually do feel a lil creeped out by and wouldn’t be eager to approach. her description says her husband cheated on her so she murdered him (and her sister, who he was cheating with) but then broke her neck in the process of trying to dump the bodies in a lake, so here we are. 7/10 i dont love it but i feel like it’s pretty effective and my first reaction to watching the video of it was “eugh. i dont want to see THAT again” so props for that 

Betty Sharpe 

lots of blood on this one, very nice, 

apparently she’s some kind of child beauty pageant contestant who murdered all the other girls

i really like the movement in the bag, something about the relatively slow motion and the size of the bag gives it a sense of “what the fuck does she have in there” since it doesn’t seem fast enough or big enough to be a person. gives the impression of a mutilated but somehow still barely alive person shoved in there, which is excellent. her design doesn’t read very clearly though, it looks like she’s wearing some kind of nightgown. i feel like they could’ve done more to make her look like a deranged diva, give her a tiara or something. the face looks really plasticky also. overall i think its a decent concept that could’ve been executed better. 6/10

Young Crouchy

H U H???!?????

this... sure is a choice. i do not understand the decision-making here at all. i like crouchy well enough but did ANYONE want this. it doesn’t even read as “young crouchy” at all, he doesn’t look Younger in any sense and it sounds like the same recording so his voice isn’t different either. it just looks like Slightly Shrunk crouchy. the fact that the original crouchy is so tall and imposing is really what makes him so effective, so this one just looks comical 

the description goes into his tragic childhood where i guess he’s... disabled? which is why he stands like that? 

The pain of growing up orphaned in the streets can only be masked by laughter, at least according to this broken child. With no friends, no family, and nowhere to turn, he had a stroke of luck when the circus came to town. He never intended to scare anyone, but with his broken posture and twisted frame, he was quickly adopted into the traveling circus and immediately found his calling. No amount of makeup could ever hide his sinister grin and sharp, dagger-like teeth, so he finally embraced his true identity as Crouchy and worked to become the show’s most terrifying act!

for one thing that doesn’t come across as a child even remotely at all, and while crouchy always had the “he just wanted to be a regular clown but he was too scary and everyone was afraid of him so he just decided to embrace it” backstory, i feel like this just makes it come across super ableist. “clown who is just really terrifying no matter how he tries” is kind of a funny concept but now they’re saying “his posture and body structure are Weird and Scary so no one liked him and all he’s good for is being Scary” just. feels real bad. and “he’s called crouchy because he has a physical disability that affects his posture” comes across way worse than “he’s called crouchy because we’re not creative and this is the pose he’s in. i mean because its a personal quirk of his” 

then they also follow up this description with “Every good evil villain has to have a tragic origin story!” which just feels SO forced, it makes me feel gross, this whole thing is stupid, i dont like any of it,

i feel like if they had leaned into “this is very silly” more and made this guy be like, Crouchy Jr, His Son, or his mini clone or something and made his voice higher it might’ve worked. a few people in the youtube comments pointed out that this prop could be beneficial as like, a Smaller/More Affordable crouchy if you don’t have the money or the space for the full size one, which is fair, but i don’t know. i just dont like this whole situation i really don’t 

3/10 try harder next time, spirit 

Strawman

spooky scarecrow man!!! i really hope I get a chance to see him in-store sometime hes lovely. love a creepy scarecrow

the design is good, his face design is pretty cool, it looks better in motion his mouth movements are pretty solid

he has a good range of motion in his head and the jerky/stiff movement in his arms works for the character really well whether it was intentional or not. hes interesting to watch. i like him. i think he’d be a great host/introductory figure at the beginning of a haunt or front of your yard or something to greet guests coming in. hes good i like him 7/10

theres also a new Reagan from the exorcist, but i havent. actually seen that movie yet sdfsdf so i dont really have anything to say about the animatronic other than “it looks fine to me” 

Possessed Pumpkin 

i feel like pumpkin man and creepy scarecrow are friends. they go well together. cursed pumpkin patch is a good concept i like it 

anyway we have this guy at my local store right now, he’s pretty Big and solid looking, its a pretty decent design, i like his big claw hands

his backstory kind of clashes with the design concept though, apparently he was... a kid in a homemade halloween costume who got bullied for his costume and then the other kids locked him in a barn at a haunted pumpkin patch so his body got taken over by evil spirits. which is a hell of a story that then makes No sense with the visual, because that is Not a child. nothing about this even remotely reads as “possessed child” at all. so then it comes across as “he grew up into an adult man in this pumpkin patch and just never fucking moved on from that one time he got bullied on halloween as a child” which just makes him kind of sad. pretty good design, poor backstory, 7/10 

anyway sorry if i missed anybody it took me so long to remember this was in here the new arrivals page on spirit’s site is now for this year so i cant tell which ones were new last year anymore :’    ) fjsdg

[chunkecheeks]

coming in for MORE propaganda for Joan even though she doesn't seem to need it. Like i will not defend her actions nor do i want to but this is a competition about looks and by god she was bangin

and some extra funfacts about Joan because her life is one of the most bonkers interesting things i've ever read about

as stated above she almost definitely was attracted to women and would become obsessed with other movie stars (most notably Marlene Dietrich and Greta Garbo) and pin pictures of them alllllll over her living space, as corroborated by the Fairbanks family while she was married to Douglas Fairbanks jr.

Her birthname was Lucille Fay LeSeur which is cooler than Joan Crawford imo but MGM thought the name sounded too fake so they hosted a "name a star" competition in a magazine and Joan Crawford was chosen from that

We have no idea what year she was born because she insisted that she was born in 1908 (which is on her tombstone) but other sources say she could have been born as early as 1904

She began her career portraying flappers in silent films and gained such a reputation for it that even F. Scott Fitzgerald said "Joan Crawford is doubtless the best example of the flapper, the girl you see in smart night clubs, gowned to the apex of sophistication, toying iced glasses with a remote, faintly bitter expression, dancing deliciously, laughing a great deal, with wide, hurt eyes. Young things with a talent for living."

Joan was less known for her acting skills and more known for her movie star persona. She was extremely charismatic and loved being interviewed and was well known for being kind and gracious to those she worked with which certainly helped her public image

She could sing! She was even in a musical (Torch Song) but her voice ended up being dubbed over which she was PISSED about and she suspected it's because MGM had another star they were trying to make their big musical success and didn't want joan stepping on her toes but they included some of the original recordings on one of the releases and she doesn't sound half bad! You also get to hear her swear on this recording which is another thing she was known for

She was married 4 times and her last husband was the president and later chairman of Pepsi-Cola. Joan was elected to the board of directors after his death. If I remember correctly the famous don't fuck with me fellas line in Mommie Dearest was based on an actual quote she said to the board at one point

She's the reason Disney built It's a Small World! Pepsi-Cola needed something for their area in the 1964 world's fair and Joan personally went to Walt Disney and asked him to make something for them. Apparently the rest of the board were against it but she gave them a dressing down that ended with her getting her way

In Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? according to Bette Davis Joan was feeling quite insecure about being made to look old and ugly the whole film so by the time they were filming her death scene Joan kept coming out of her trailer with bigger false boobs and longer false lashes to try to glam herself up

Anyways i don't think Joan Crawford was necessarily a good person but reading about her life is one of the most interesting things you'll ever do and she was so so so so so so so hot

Propaganda

Gale Sondergaard (The Cat and the Canary, The Mark of Zorro)—She is so deliciously sinister in the Cat and the Canary it’s hilarious and ridiculous and she’s so gorgeous too! Incredible performance

Joan Crawford (Dancing Lady, Mildred Pierce, The Women)— God, where do I start!!! Her face is so UNIQUE and compelling and stands out so much. I love her thick brows and high cheekbones. She has a school-marmy hardness too her that makes her a little scary and therefore sexy. Her low thick voice also does it for me. Despite being an unusual looking woman with an unusual face, she never loses her glamour. Just a gorgeous talented actress, AND she was some sort of gay!!!

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Joan Crawford propaganda:

I just love women that are very mean.

she was a smoke show in every decade, from the 20s to the 60s.

The classic matronly beauty with amazing eyebrows

of course there's a space for MILF joan but i want to just take a second and say she was so cute in her early movies (like grand hotel and the women)! those parts often get forgotten but her stardom shines in them just as much as in her older #queen #icon roles

Misremembered for wire hanger hatred, this original screen queen mastered the art of the comeback and refused to let Hollywood toss her aside as she aged. The term “auteur” is usually revered for directors or writer-directors, but most critics have one actor they’ll give that title to as well: Crawford—anyone who knows classic movies already has a “Crawford picture” in their head. She knew how to style herself and promote herself. She made herself a star and kept herself fixated in the Hollywood firmament. What’s hotter than knowing just how hot you are?

(don’t think about Mommie Dearest right now) Joan was known for being super nice to all the like crew of the movies she worked on and she’d get everyone gifts. Joan would hold movie nights at her house and knit at the back of her home theater. Joan was sooo obsessed with other women including Greta Garbo, whos dressing room she would obsessively and purposefully walk by. She said that while working on Grand Hotel, Garbo grabbed her face and “if there ever was a time in my life where I would’ve been a lesbian, that was it.” But like Joan also probably did sleep with women including Barbara Stanwyck. Joan was so obsessed with Bette Davis, screening multiple movies of hers in a day at her watch party, constantly trying to spend time with her or do a movie together, insisting on the dressing room next to hers at Warners and sending her daily gifts… etc. Once Bette said that sex was gods joke to humanity and Joan said “I think the joke is on her.” Joan fucked a lot. Joan got caught publicly fucking a man and sent a letter to the woman who saw them basically saying “I bet it excited you” and the woman was like you know what. It did. Joan was best friends with a gay man. Joan was an actually genuinely good actress even though people mocked her a lot for being like cheap and stupid (partially because she never finished school because her family was broke). Joan was so insane and so cool that’s all.

[gotpineapple]

Under his mane (Part 4) // Tywin Lannister  x Baratheon!Reader

Warning: suicidal thoughts

A tall candle lit a room adorned in golden and emerald fabrics and wooden furniture. A crown shaped like the antlers of a stag sitting on a priced spot on a long dresses. The dresser covered by a light green tablecloth ornate with turtles. Books, hundreds of books and notebooks by every corner. 

The room was beautiful, pristine, yet it was haunting. A gilded cage for a woman never to be free. 

Long silence engulfed the spacious bedroom as Y/n sat in front of her mirror and stared. Looking at herself in the eye she sat still as a statue. Two rivers of tears flowing from her eyes. 

-----

“This is ridiculous Tywin”, Y/n spat as she paced in front of his study. “I will be given away by Tyrion and not by my dear nephew and that is final”, she stopped to look at the calm man sitting back on his desk. 

She knew that this was going to be an issue but she knew she had few strings to pull. Convincing someone that Joffrey is a wrong choice is never difficult.

“and what image would that set upon our union? It would be a clear target for people’s mockery”, he spoke calmly letting his hands rest against his stomach. He knew that Lady Y/n was a stubborn woman when given the reason to be and to be factual he had more important matters to get to. 

Setting her jaw Y/n walks over to his desk putting both of her hands on top of it to lean closer to her betrothed. “Or then it would make the people understand that they cannot bring House Lannister down by mocking Tyrion, if we are not ashamed of him, they cannot shame us”

Staring at each other Y/n continues: ”it would not be as scandalous because Margaery and Joffreys wedding will be the spectacle and make people forget everything in our seremony, and perhaps our dear king will leave us alone for a while since he thinks Tyrion is the biggest embarrassment in the family”

Tywin rests his elbow on the arm of his chair and rests his chin on his hand. Never taking his eyes off of the lady in front of him he ponders. Y/n words were based on good arguments but his distaste for Tyrion was based on subjectivity. Legacy is not based on one person’s whims and wishes.

”Very well”, he finally says. ”Tyrion is not a fool and the people should know that.” His admission takes Y/n by surprise as she finally takes a seat now that her argument was made.

”He is your son after all” And he is the most like you out of any of the three.

----

 Walking along the path to the docks Y/n holds Sansa’s arm. There was so much she wished to tell to the young girl to appease her but there was nothing she could do. A part of her was afraid that Sansa’s future would be like her own. Torn and battered by the acts of war.

”Could you tell me about my father, what he was like when he was young?”, the redheaded girl asks in a soft voice as they come to a seat in the sunlight.

Their bond was growing each day as the Lady Baratheon took the young she-wolf under her arm. Y/n wanted her to know that there was still good in the world. No matter how easily it could be torn apart.

Y/n hated the idea of Great Houses. Bannermen were supposed to give away their lives to fight wars they didn’t cause just because the great houses asked. Y/n didn’t like that, it made her nauseous to think about it. Years ago back during the rebellion she had met a young woman who was bearing a child, who had lost two of her brothers, her husband and her father for Robert’s war. Just because someone belonged to a great house, them dying was not supposed to be any more important.

There was nothing honorable about war in Westeros, it was always working class people dying for someone else’s vengeance.

”Ned was a gentleman, what any girl would call a true knight, just more quiet”, Y/n starts smiling lightly. ”He was always very mature, his and Robert’s dynamic worked perfectly for both of them were as stubborn but Robert was able to bring Ned out of his shell and Ned was able to reign Robert”

Sansa hangs onto every word. She regretted the way she had treated her father and getting to know him better this way, was mending. A part of Sansa was curious too.

“He was always very protective of the people he loved. Ned was never one to dance but one night in the Vale I was anxious about all the people and he danced with me all night to minimize the people I had to converse with”, Y/n reminisces lifting her hand to stroke Sansa’s hair gently.

Could Y/n be Jon’s mother? She was his betrothed and she never married after the war. Could it be why mother never spoke of her?

“He was so gruff and stubborn on the outside but his heart was always warm and caring, same as your uncle Benjen, only more burdened”

”Were you excited to marry him?”, Sansa asks as studies the expressions of the older woman.

Letting out a small chuckle Y/n looks at her hands and shakes her head. ”I was happy about marrying Ned but-but my heart belonged elsewhere”, Y/n admits smiling sadly. The confession takes the young girl by surprise as Sansa’s mouth opens to a wide o, which causes Y/n to laugh.

Sansa leans in closer and the older woman is happy to see clear excitement in her eyes. ”What was he like?”, the young girl whispers and almost shakes with excitement.

”He was a true warrior”, the gentle doe starts and tries to form words, ”Quite a misunderstood man he was. The words people speak of him…”, Y/n shakes her head as she speaks but then stops and gently looks around.

”But that is enough of that, what else do you want to know about your father?”

----

Smiling lightly the Gentle Doe comes to the doors of the chambers of the hand. ”Would you announce me?”, she smiles at the guards. The guards do as they are bid, looking at her strangely. The determined woman doesn’t care for their odd looks but waits so that she can walk in.

As she does, she would have asked for an illustrator to come with to seal in the memory of Lord Tywin’s face if she had known it’s capacity to look so long.

She hadn’t taken it as a jest that she would have to walk up his steps to have dinner. So here she was, with two plates of food and a soft smile on her face.

”I heard you had not dined yet, my lord”, she says softly and puts the plates on his desk.

Shaking his head Tywin looks at the food and then up at the lady he had promised himself to. ”You are Lord Stannis’ sister trough and through”, he comments dryly and stands up to collect a pitcher of wine and they begin their second dinner.

----

”Thank you”, Y/n says as she gives their plates to a shocked maid and turns to her husband. They had eaten on his desk going over some of the policies of Casterly Rock. Lady of the Rock should know what ruling it entails.

”I heard you have come to spend significant amount of time with Lady Sansa”, the old lion comments leaning back on his chair. Y/n took it as a sign of respect. It was rarely that Tywin stopped his work to converse and he took his time with her.

 ”I have yes”, she says simply licking at her teeth. There were many things she would bring up to Tywin that other’s didn’t dare but Sansa she wanted to keep out of this.

”My grandson has been treating her maliciously”, he tilts his head a little and adds: ”and my daughter has always been pleased to accompany someone in such tasks” Y/n raises her brows a little waiting for what Tywin is on about. ”You see yourself in her”, he finally drops. This causes the Doe to close her eyes.

 ”It is not hard to make that comparison, only you did not whip me in the halls and undress me in court”, she comments her voice strained. ”If only…” -Sansa had left with Sandor. She finishes her sentence in her head only as she shakes her head lightly.

 ”I heard her ask Tyrion about why I trust you”, Y/n then admits, the doe looking less uncomfortable.

 This causes Tywin to raise his brows as he stands up from his seat to walk next to hers. Y/n’s eyes gloss over as she feels Tywin raise her chin to look up at him.

”And what did he answer?”, he rumbles back softly.

”He carried her away from drowning herself into nightmares full of flayed men”

Tywin is taken a back by the poetry of her answer but he remains cupping her chin. “Good night, my lady”, he whispers and gently drops her chin. 

And so he takes his seat again and his betrothed lets herself out.

Only she doesn't know that he is thinking of the eery scene of her standing on the edge of Casterly Rock scratching her skin, ready to hurl herself off the edge.

The day he could have sworn he saw Joanna lead him to her. The day he took her under his mane for good.

[crankynewt]

Life Could Be a Dream - Chapter 2

Live in Living Colour Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Summary: (Y/N) slowly begins to remember their life with “Pietro” before WestView as they move through the decades, but sometimes knowledge is a curse rather than a blessing.

Pairing: Pietro (Peter) Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning: WandaVision Episode 6 spoilers! Read at your own risk!

Author’s Note: Here’s the highly requested second part to Be Okay! You don’t have to read it to understand this story, but it does fill in the gap during the 80s episode and give a little more context into the reader’s mind. Also, the reader’s powers and Halloween costume are highly based off of Starlight from the boys even though I did my best to make it gender neutral, but that’s what I kinda envisioned!

(Not My Gif!)

Your hips swayed as you danced around the kitchen, the sound of The Chords’ “Life Could Be a Dream” filled the room from the record player in the corner your beloved vinyl was spinning on. Chopping pineapple for the jell-o in the bundt mold beside you, you hummed along to the familiar tune as your feet shuffled back and forth on the checkered floor.

A whooshing sound and light breeze behind you tore your attention away from the task at hand. Turning around quickly, you were met with the smiling face of your loving boyfriend, relaxing in a chair with his feet propped up against the kitchen table. His dark jeans were complimented by a letterman jacket adorning his shoulders, his shades of grey complimenting your own and those surrounding the both of you.

“My partner and their impeccable taste in music.” He smirked, arms crossed behind his head.

“My boyfriend and his faster-than-a-bullet superspeed.” You retorted, shuffling over to your man and giving him a playful smack on the leg. “Feet off the table! We’ve gotta eat here in a few hours!”

Pietro whooshed once again, this time with one hand in your waist while the other held yours, finally slowing down enough to gently rock you to the music. Life really could be a dream, and you were experiencing it first-hand.

“What is happening? Where did this come from?!” Agent Woo asked, watching the dancing couple sway as a hexagon framed the image and the words ‘Pietro(Y/N)’ shone across the screen.

“I don’t know! When Wanda recast Pietro an extra broadcast started from inside the hex and this is what the channel’s playing.” Darcy explained, taking a sip of her long awaited coffee as the end credits began to roll. “She must have somehow created another storyline for them.”

“But, wait… Didn’t somebody say that (Y/L/N) went missing before the blip?” Monica commented, pointing at your smiling face on the screen.

“Last I heard was that they got beamed up on that spaceship in New York with Spider-Man and Doctor Strange, but nobody’s seen them since.” Jimmy added, crossing his arms with a furrowed brow.

“Well wherever they were, they’re back in action.”

You woke up with a gasp, shooting straight up as a cold sweat adorned your body. Your nightmare had been something that you couldn’t believe your mind had imagined, it was so real, so dark… 

You had been on a strange planet surrounded by shades or orange and red, weirdly dressed people fighting all around you. At the centre of it all was this purple giant, a metallic glove adorning his hand as he fought the group of you away. 

Before you knew what you were doing you were rushing towards him, hand raised as a tingling feeling ran down your arm while golden light formed around your hand. But your attack was to no avail as with a clench of his fist the giant had opened a red hole in front of you and you began free falling.

“What? What is it?” Pietro grumbled, slowly waking up at your sudden outburst. He sat up as well, rubbing his hand on your lower back soothingly. 

“It was just a dream, babe.” You brushed it off, turning to face Pietro and leaning closer towards him. His eyes still held worry and a bit of disbelief as you played it off, but rather than argue, he just held you close as the two of you laid back down until sleep took it’s hold once more. 

“How much longer ‘till he calls?” Darcy whined, spinning in her chair as the boredom of watching reruns overtook her. You and Peter had just finished your ‘80s episode, meaning that the two of you had just reunited with Wanda and Vision.

“Don’t worry, he’ll call.” Monica replied, and as if on cue the name ‘Jimmy Woo’ was flashing upon her phone screen. She was quick to answer and eagerly pressed the device to her ear. “Woo? What’d your guy say?”

“Scott said that (Y/N) hasn’t been seen since they were on a planet called Titan fighting Thanos. Stark apparently told him that they got tossed in some hole he opened and they couldn’t get them back.” Jimmy explained, the sound of a car moving filling the background as he was already on his way back from talking to Lang.

“You don’t think that he sent her to wherever this new Pietro came from, do you?” Monica responded, Darcy shrugging her shoulders in response.

“I mean, it’s well within the realm of possibilities?” 

“What are you boys doing?” You called from the bottom of the stairs to where Pietro and the twins were playing some video game on the tv, laughing and shouting as they shot at each other. “Piet, why aren’t you in your costume?”

Your boyfriend finally turned to face you and your Halloween costume had his jaw quite literally dropping. You adorned a white costume with a golden star and accents on the front, meanwhile your cape was white with countless smaller stars decorating it’s entirety.

“Wow! Babe, you look… Wow!” He ogled, speeding over to you as his eyes took in your costumed appearance. He ignored your question, Wanda having to bug her brother once more for him to drag Tommy with him to make their matching Quicksilver costumes, their hair slicked up on the sides in an odd way.

Before you knew it the five of you were making your way down the street bustling with costumed kids. Pietro and Wanda were a couple steps ahead of you with the twins, you making the decision to take a minute to appreciate your domestic life while the siblings caught up.

“Unleash hell, demon spawn!” Pietro yelled as the twins went running off to fill their buckets with candy. You weren’t trying to eavesdrop, however you weren’t very far behind them and neither twin was making any effort to speak quietly.

“Do you remember when we were at the orphanage when mom and dad died?” She asked, the duo stopping to talk to each other in the middle of the busy road. While you didn’t intend to stop yourself, the sudden confusion that struck your mind left you no other choice.

Orphanage? Why would Peter have ever been in an orphanage when both his parents were still alive?  Wait, Peter? Where was all this coming from?

Suddenly your life was quite literally flashing before your eyes. Getting your powers, joining the Avengers, falling through the portal to another reality, meeting the X-Men… Oh, and Peter. Your relationship with Peter came back in moments, from your first meeting to the day he kissed you after you almost died on a mission. And how could you ever have forgotten your wedding day?! 

“Peter?” You asked out loud. Whether you were calling out to the man who you now remember to be your husband or questioning the memories that you had just regained you weren’t sure.

Your sudden comment caused Peter/Pietro to scoff in disbelief and furrow his brows, meanwhile Wanda’s expression darkened as her eyes glared daggers into your head. 

“Did you just call me Peter?” He asked incredulously, but his face quickly softened as he saw the fear in your eyes. You were utterly dumbfounded, How did you get back here? Last thing you remembered was being at the school, then all of a sudden you were living in some sit-com town.

“Why doesn’t he remember me? Wanda, what have you done?” Your voice wavered, your gaze shifting from Peter to Wanda, who would have already murdered you if looks could kill.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Her eyes flashed red, meanwhile Peter was standing there as if everything around him was completely normal.

“I think you do. Don’t make me do this, Wanda.” Your eyes began glowing as well. There was no way this would be ending well.