#i am a horrible friend and a horrible daughter and i was a horrible partner

[niaotix]

.

[nyoomfruits]

osctober day five

prompt: teacher pairing: charles/oscar word count: 900

“Seriously, Ames?” Oscar says, when he rounds the corner and finds her sitting on a chair just outside the classroom.

“It was for love, dad!” Amelia exclaims, jumping up when she sees him. “I can’t just not do it if it is for love.”

Oscar has conflicting opinions on that. It is, sweet, of course. He’s glad Amelia still believes in the concept of love at all, seeing as her own father is so completely shit at it. But like. He really wishes she would stop hosting flashmobs. Or serenades. Or that time she and that boy from her Spanish class that was really good at programming tried to make a matchmaking app.

“Right, yeah,” Oscar says, ruffling her hair. She’s too old for that now, and he knows he only gets away with it because she knows she’s in trouble. “Just. Maybe find a more quiet avenue next time, yeah? How about a good old fashioned love note?”

Amelia’s eyes light up in a way that the unexperienced eye would find adorable, but that fills the person who has been raising her for the past fifteen years mostly with dread. “Yes,” she breathes out, and then grabs for her bag, probably to retrieve a notepad.

“Okay, well, I guess while you go plan your next ‘disruption of a calm learning environment’ I will go speak with Mr. Leclerc yeah?” He says, hand on the doorknob. She barely glances at him and he sighs as he pushes open the door.

“Ah, Mr. Piastri,” Mr. Leclerc says, looking up from his desk with a wide smile. “You made it.”

Oscar thinks, generally, that he would have a much better time coming to the school to talk about his daughter’s behavior if her teacher wasn’t so goddamn pretty. With bright, sparkling eyes, and a lazy smile, and the kind of artfully tousled hair Oscar couldn’t even achieve if he tried.

The horribly baggy pants and oversized button up combo don’t even ruin the look. Somehow it makes him look cool. Oscar hasn’t looked cool since, well. Possibly ever.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Oscar says, sitting down in the chair Mr. Leclerc gestures at. “Again. I don’t know who he has it from.”

“Not you, I presume?” Mr. Leclerc says, eyes twinkling. He doesn’t seem mad, so that’s. Good. Amelia’s previous teacher consistently got their panties in a bunch about the well. Singing. And dancing. And everything.

“No, god no,” he hasn’t tried in a while, but he doesn’t think he could dance. Or sing.

“Her mother, perhaps?” Mr. Leclerc asks, flipping through some folders on his desk.

“Maybe,” Oscar says. “She hasn’t been around for a long time, so. Yeah. I think she mostly gets it from Lando? I mean not the singing and the dancing but this. Need to perform? He’s a DJ, so.”

“Ah, your partner?” Charles asks, looking up at Oscar now, curiously.

“Oh Christ no,” Oscar says, trying not to pull a face, remembers he’s talking to his daughter’s teacher, and schools himself into a more neutral expression. “No, uh. Lando’s just a friend. Of the family. He’s not. He has a boyfriend.”

“Ah,” Charles says. “Alright. Well, I mostly summoned you here because-“

“Because my daughter upheaved your class by performing a perfectly choreographed flashmob to Bruno Mars’s ‘Just The Way You Are’? Yeah, I uh. I heard. And I apologize, again. I’ve been trying to talk to her about it, but it’s-“ he pulls a face. “It’s just me and she’s just uh. Very different and sometimes I just. I don’t really know how to get through to her?”

It’s the most honest he’s been in a while. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly blurting all of this out to Mr. Leclerc of all people. He’s blaming the big sparkly eyes. Stupid eyelashes, too.

“Hm, I can imagine. All parents kind of feel like that when they reach this age, though, don’t worry. No, I was actually wondering if you were aware of our after school theatre program? I think she would do wonderfully in there. If it’s more the dancing she’s into, or the singing, there’s also a dance team and a choir.”

Oscar blinks. Process. He’s so used to hearing Amelia’s teacher admonish her behavior he wasn’t really expecting anyone to. Well. Encourage her.

“Oh,” he says.

“They’re free, school funded programs, if that’s a concern,” Mr. Leclerc continues. “But I do think it might be a nice outlet for her.”

“Yeah,” he says. He knew, vaguely, that there were clubs. But Amelia had never expressed an interest, and he’d been too busy juggling his demanding job and raising a teenager to ever properly look into them and. Yeah. He takes the folder Mr. Leclerc hands him.

“Thak you, Mr. Leclerc,” he says. Mr. Leclerc stands, and so does he.

“No problem. That was all, really. I do some of the musical accompaniments for the theatre and choir programs so if you have any questions feel free to ask.” By the door, Mr. Leclerc takes his hand. Oscar shakes it a little dazedly. “And please. Call me Charles.”

“Oscar,” Oscar says. Charles hands are soft, and his smile is gentle, and his eyes are still so incredibly stupidly sparkly and fuck. Fuck.

“How did it go?” Amelia asks, when he steps back out the door.

‘I think I might be in love with your teacher’, he thinks. “We’re enrolling you into the school’s theatre program,” he says.

[wolfpackss]

OK ok! I loved the last request you fulfilled and I have this one I'd LOVE to see someone write out for me! I've requested it a few times in the past but no one's responded to it. No worries if it's not your cup of tea!

My idea is that Jacob imprints on a reader who is *drum roll* a single mama. But not in the traditional sense, nope. The little one she cares for was the child of her best friend and her boyfriend. They ended up in an accident and before they passed they had put it in their will that (reader) be the one to care for their child should something happen to them. So, thrust into this new life of being a mama(thinking the little is 6months to a year) she's had her life changed and isn't looking for romance but you know how fate works. I could see the child almost instantly bonding with Jacob too, just adoring him as much as his/her 'mama'. Please and thank you if you can do this! <3 <3

This is going to be a loooooong one! I am loving this request (secretly hoping I had this one in my head with Paul) but here you go! Hope you enjoy it ❤️!

This was not the life you had imagined for yourself, not by a long shot but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You made a promise, and it’s a promise you intended to keep. When your best friend asked you to be the godmother of her beautiful baby girl, you didn’t hesitate when it came to saying yes. It was an agreement you both made when you both started dating. If anything would happen to her or me, and there was another person involved, we would take care of that person, wether it was a partner or a child. Neither of you thinking you would make that agreement a reality so soon in life. On the way home from the hospital after giving birth their daughter, your best friend and her boyfriend got into a horrible car accident almost twelve months ago, taking both their lives, leaving you as their daughter’s legal guardian

“Sweetheart, do you have everything?” You turn your head to look at your mother holding Layla in her arms who smiles when she sees you. Her tiny hands making grabbing motions at you which makes you smile. You grab her from mother, still biting down on the pacifier while making sure you have everything in your bag. You decided to take Layla out to the beach since she loves the water so much and you finally got a day of from work so you thought today was the day. Layla grabs the pacifier from your mouth and giggles when she starts playing with it, slamming it in her one hand while holding on to it with the other. “I have everything, diapers, toys, floaters. I think that’s everything… by the way thanks mom, for coming over” your mom waves you away like it’s nothing. “I’d do anything for you girls, now go have fun and be safe!”

It’s a short walk from your house to the beach so you put Layla in her stroller and make your way down the road. As you get to the beach you notice some people already there, playing football and chilling in the sun. You let out a little sigh and stop near a spot with some shadow so Layla won’t be sitting in the blinding sun the entire time. You put out your beach towel and place Layla on top with her toys and floaters. You let yourself sit down next to her and look around the beach. Your sight immediately goes to the boys playing football. While you can’t deny their attractiveness or their glistening bodies in the sun, you don’t really have time for romance and boyfriends. Not only do you not have the time for it, you’re just not interested right now, all you want is to focus on Layla and make sure she’s healthy, safe and happy.

You hear giggling next to you and look over at Layla who happily slams her toys into the sand and then looks over at you. She gives you a big smile and puts the toy in her mouth including all the sand that came with it. “Layla no!” You hurry to get the toy out of her mouth and clean it. She spits out the remainder of the sand and gives you a toothy grin, making you laugh. Your moment is interrupted with a football flying into your skull. You yell and grab your head.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” You look up with one eye closed as you rub your head and notice it’s one of the guys playing football. “I didn’t mean to kick it so hard, does your head hurt? Can I take a look at it?” The guy takes your hand away from your head and you wince when he touches it. You look at Layla who’s now climbed into your lap with her head firmly pressed against your chest, she always does this when she’s shy. As you look into the guy’s eyes, you see his widen for a moment while his mouth falls slightly open. “I- I’m Jacob, Jacob Black. And I’m really, really sorry about your head.” he holds out his hand for you to shake as you see him bite his bottom lip. You reach out to shake his but you’re surprised as Layla turns her head and sneaks her little hand in Jacob’s. You see him give her a soft smile, as he slowly shakes her hand. “And who’s this pretty lady, you must be the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever seen” you can see Layla brighten up at his words and she turns around fully in your lap. She raises her hand to to give him a small wave and gets up to sit next to you. She pats the spot next to her and looks up at Jacob.

“I’m y/n, and this is Layla.” You brush some of her hair away from her face. Jacob nods as he slowly sinks down next to Layla and grabs one of her toys. “You have a beautiful kid” he smiles. You feel your cheeks burn up while trying to come up with an excuse for your story so you just mumble a thank you. You hear some shouting and look up to see some of his friends heading out. “So I have to go, but here’s my number. If you ever need anything or wanna hang out.. give me a call” you smile at him and thank him. He gets up and takes off but not before waving and smiling at Layla who happily smiles and waves back.

Two weeks later you find yourself sitting at your breakfast table looking at Layla brabble about something while the man of your dreams is listening intensely to every sound that’s coming out of her mouth. He nods and asks questions while giving her spoons of baby food. He looks up at you and winks before continuing the conversation he has with your baby girl. Jacob became a really good friend, these past two weeks. Making sure you could take a nap and get your social life back together as he introduced you to his friends. “I hope it’s okay i invited them, I mean they wanted to come” this afternoon is Layla’s first birthday party and while it’s a happy day, it takes you back to the memories of a year ago. It makes you think of her real parents. The one who should’ve been here celebrating her birthday and every milestone she made. Jacob didn’t want you to celebrate her birthday alone with her maternal and paternal grandparents, you always had them visiting her or the other way around as well as your parents who doted on her like she was their own. A couple of hours later everyone arrived and the party was in full swing. All of Jacob’s friends came and they brought food, presents and warmth. A warmth you haven’t felt in forever.

“It’s time for cake!” You bring out the cake that was made by Emily and light up the big candle that looks a one in the middle of it. Everybody starts singing happy birthday and Layla claps along smiling. You kneel down so you can help her blow out the candle. You remove the candle and she smashes both her hands into the cake. She laughs happily as everyone arounds her laughs. “Mama” a gasp escapes your mouth as you look over to the little girl you’ve called daughter for almost a year now. She holds her hands out towards you, saying that one word over and over while smiling at you. Her hands are full of cake and one sneaky little tooth shows itself through her smile. You lean down and kiss her forehead while catching the eyes of the one person you wanted to make eye contact with. He winks and turns away out of your sight.

Not long after you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder and your pulled into someone’s embrace. “You did good, mama” Jacob whispers in your ear and kisses your temple. You interlace your hand with the one hanging over your shoulder and smile up at him.

Yeah, Jacob Black is growing on you, and you don’t mind one bit.

[longing-for-rain]

ATLA Discourse Simulator: 2024 Revival Edition

🌊 katara-stan Follow

It’s sad to me how Katara was forced to take on so many responsibilities from a young age. I relate to it as an eldest daughter with trauma in my childhood.

👺 404-literacy-not-found Follow

How DARE you parentify Katara! She’s just a silly little 14 year old not mom friend!!!

74 notes

🌙 zutara-fan Follow

I like Zutara

🚓 avatar-fandom-police Follow

You’re not allowed to do this as it is personally offensive to me, a balding middle-aged man. Your femcel fantasies are pathetic and no man will ever want you. By the way I’m gay so I’m not sexist.

32 notes

🍼 aang-lover Follow

How DARE anyone criticize my perfect little angel boy, he never did anything wrong! Touching girls without their consent is just a SMALL MISTAKE and I’m sure his implied apology was really good!

🙏undercover-tradwife Follow

SO TRUE it’s so sad how many women want to ruin an innocent boy’s whole life over nothing 😢

12,547 notes

▪️zvtara-was-never-canon Follow

Zutara fans are such bitter harpies who self-project their desire to have a fulfilling relationship with a partner who respects them! It’s such a boring relationship anyway. I don’t care about it at all, which is why I made a whole blog dedicated to bashing it.

⛓️ basement-dwelling-pedo Follow

So true kitten! You put those stupid cunts in their place! By the way, when is the next chapter of your bdsm incest rape fetish fanfic updating? I’m getting thirsty 😩

▪️ zvtara-was-never-canon Follow

Don’t worry Daddy, I’ll service you soon. I can’t believe how horribly Zutara shippers characterize Aang. They should be more like me, and write Zuko as a pervert who rapes his sister instead. Please tell me how special and talented I am again, please please Daddy I need it!

29 notes

🔥 firelady-mai Follow

I love Zuko’s redemption arc so much! What a beautifully written story about breaking the cycle of abuse!

🌊 zutara-lover Follow

I really like Zuko too! I always admired his character 😊

🔥 firelady-mai Follow

Fuck you, I take it all back. Zuko is an evil racist toxic abuser. How dare you suggest he taint Katara’s purity with his colonizer genes?

976 notes

[sanijoys]

His Queen

Laios x F!Reader

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King Laios, Devourer of All Things Horrible, was a humble and a good king.

He led his people with equality and respect, in return his people love and respect the king.

One day, one of his retainers asked the king when he would finally be wed and have children. This made the king feel uncomfortable and wished to change the topic. However, the rest of the retainers also asked, this made him feel pressured and told all of them.

“I am not yet ready for that!”

His retainers couldn’t let this go, so without the king’s knowledge. They all made an announcement that the king was looking for a queen. This made many regions shake in excitement, many older noblemen had let their daughters join the candidate for queen. This also led to many other species joining for the role as concubines.

When the king heard this, he was devastated when he got news of this. He argued with his retainers, who were also his friends, that he just needed time and that they didn’t need to go to such length. In the end, the king ran out from the castle yelling at his friends to not follow him.

This made the king’s sister, Princess Falin, feel worried and sorry for her brother. She told the others that her brother just needed time and not to pressure him.

“I know that he is a king now, however he is still new to all of this. Let my brother have some time to think all of this through, he was just feeling pressured from all the responsibilities.”

With that, all of them understood and realized their mistake. They all agreed that they would apologize to the king for their disrespect.

The next day, when all of the king’s retainers/friends went to his study to apologize, however, the scene they all saw was quite something. The king, who always wore a stressed out look, had a care-free smile on his face. His face was glowing with happiness.

“Um…you seem…happy, Laios.” Marcille spoke as she handed documents to King Laios.

“Hm? Oh yeah, it just feels nice today! Don’t you all think?” He cheerfully asked.

“Uh, yeah, we all feel nice today.”

He nodded his head as he started to read off the documents for today. They all look at each other wondering what made their king so happy today.

He still didn’t want to marry any of the candidates though.

-

One day, the king brought someone, a woman, and confidently said, “This woman will be the one who I will be marrying.”

When everyone heard such words from the king. The one who refused to marry any woman, the same one who brought a woman and wants to marry her. All chaos began.

It took a while to calm down his friends, but when he finally was able to calm them all. He began his explanation.

“I met her in the forest, the same day that I left the castle after the….argument.”

Laios explained that, when he met Y/N, she was with a monster. This made Falin and Marcille worry, but Laios quickly said that the monster didn’t attack her. Rather the monster was calm, tame, and they were given head scratches from Y/N.

This made Y/N explain that for some unexplainable reason, was good with monsters. Every monster wouldn’t hurt her. With that knowledge, this made Laios take interest in her, and this made him go to the forest each day after his duties as king.

After seeing each day, both started having feelings. And with the 10th meeting, Laios gave the proposal.

When both of them were finished with their explanation. The others were quiet, this made the two lovers feel worried and uncomfortable.

“Okay.” Falin continued, “I am glad that you finally met someone you love, brother.”

This made Laios cry in happiness.

And the others agreed on the couple’s wishes to be together.

-

Y/N became Laios’ Queen right after their wedding. The people were happy that their king found his partner, and his friends were also happy. But Laios was the most happy, he finally has someone he could call his queen. 

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Ngl this was made in a hurry and also YES! I am very much alive (surprisingly) and will probably continue making other one-shots.

[choccy-zefirka]

Living Bodies

Woe! 3K words of body worship with Emmrich and a plus-size Rook, who that had a horrible first time as a teen and internalized her partner's disgust, be upon ye!

Content warning for references to bullying, dubious consent during the aforementioned first time, fatphobia, and also everyone's privates being out among the Necropolis flowers :3 (They are doing it in a cute skeleton-adorned gazebo that came to me in a dream)

Dear Lottie,

I am so terribly sorry you fell sick and missed all the fun! But we did it! We actually did it, all according to plan! Sprung the trap for my "secret admirer"! And our suspicions were correct!

All those gunky little lumps of soap Papa found folded in my laundry — they were put there by the washer girl! That knife ear, the one that looks like a toad! I think her name is Len-something, but who cares? And yes, she made them herself, out of whatever goop she's gathered round the alienage — because she has a """"crush"""" on me! The cheek! As if just because I don't like boys exclusively, I'd ever give the time of day to a walking, talking potato! She isn’t even cute in that scared rabbit way, like elf girls are supposed to be!

She did come to the "date" me and the girls arranged, too, and blathered on and on about how beautiful I am (fact) and how much she likes me (yuck)... Until we had enough and pushed her into the river!!! Oh, I wish you were there with us, it was ab-so-lu-te-ly hilarious!

Say, since you are sat by the window in your chair all day, have you heard any news out on the street? From the paper criers, maybe? I want to know if Len-whatever ended up drowning.

Correspondence between two traders' daughters. 9:40 Dragon

***

Happy now, Sticks?

Did her like you told me to. All the way. What a shitshow. Lardy Lenny is even lardier naked, that's for sure. Felt like sticking my dick into a giant slug. Next time I lose this stupid game, just send me into a shem's mabari kennels with salami for a sword. That will be way less painful.

Don't know how I'll fuck normal girls no. The fat cunt ruined it for me. Think I'll be having nightmares for years after this. Told her that, and she started bawling. Didn't even look funny like she usually does in tears. Just gross.

So yeah. Enjoy, I guess.

Note from an alienage boy to his friend, attached to a crumpled set of girl's underclothes. 9:42 Dragon

***

At first, Lenore is too distracted by turning and flexing her left hand. Her wrist has been getting a little stiff lately: she probably holds her arm at an uncomfortable angle when mixing potions. No surprise, since she is self-taught. Aching joints and sleepy pin pricks are the least of her problems, really! When she was just starting out, on a work bench that was just a half-rotten plank of wood balanced on a rock in the alienage backyards, she'd splash hissing, blistering liquid all over herself, turning her forearms into pale clumps of scar tissue, like cold leftover noodles plastered sadly at the bottom of a bowl.

Maybe if she observes Emmrich more closely during their studies together, she will figure out how to position her arms properly... Ugh. She'll find any excuse to "observe" him, won't she? Well, she's allowed; they are a couple now, outlandish as it sounds!

A couple.

All at once, her mind catches up to what her ears heard after Emmrich, gentle and attentive as always — what has she done to deserve him? — pointed out her stiff wrist.

Finer points of anatomy.

Her eyes dart upwards from her hand, and she gapes across their elegantly arranged tea table. Emmrich smiles, soft yet playful, eyes half-lidded and shining in the wisp light.

There is that side of him, that confidence — decades' worth of it — that sometimes makes her, all flushed and boiling alive in unspoken greed, wish for more than just quick kisses and lingering glances and fingertips resting on knuckles, shoulders, waists, whenever they stand too close. As if all of that was not already a gift far more generous than normally granted from someone like him to someone like her.

It has been a harmless enough indulgence to entertain, she supposes. A guilty pleasure, something titillating to think about in the secret alone hours while she touches herself. Not that she does it too often; bodies like hers aren't really meant for this, she's well aware... But still, that's also something couples are allowed to do, right — imagine each other's faces in place of characters from the Randy Dowager's Gold Collection?

But here and now, with Emmrich looking at her like that, it hits her with the full force of a Venatori blood forge trampling her to the ground. A keen, panicked awareness that this is not the Randy Dowager's Gold Collection. This is real — they are real. Especially her. Too real, too heavy, suddenly suffocating under her own weight, suddenly feeling the scented air of the Memorial Gardens with every pore of her skin, so tangibly, disgustingly physical that it begins to itch.

Most of her is carefully concealed underneath her usual Veil Jumper leathers, but if Emmrich, the real, non-fantasy Emmrich, decides to explore these finer points of anatomy, if he lifts the covers and sees just how much she the opposite of that...

Oh. Oh no.

She still remembers, a decade later, how the sight of her naked body broke the first and only boy that agreed to touch her. And that was before she got most of her scars!

She can't do that to anyone else, ever again. Especially not to him, not to her most treasured friend, not to the man who has been so kind to her that she dared bother him with her clumsy attempts at romance. Because with him, she could be certain, at last, that it would not turn out to be a prank.

How can she repay him by giving him nightmares?!

"Dearest? Why are you crying? Was I... Was I too forward? Too much?"

She did not even notice when the tears came. But here they are, marring her vision, so that there are two Emmrichs circling the table, kneeling in the grass next to her. Unafraid of the stains that will be left on the pristine Nevarran satin. Clasping her hands.

"I know that not all experience attraction the same way; if you would rather not explore this side of romance, that is perfectly fine, and wonderful! Your affection has already been such a beautiful gift."

Past her, the one that clung to the shadows, beyond the welcoming golden glow of camp fires, outside the reach of a friendly embrace; the one that spoke in sparse, grunt-like words, and kept her head down, beaten more than once, and shy far, far more than twice — that her would have made a vague noise and slunk away, never to bring this up again. But Emmrich — and Manfred! — was the one who brought her out of her shell. He deserves the truth, spoken with her whole chest.

"I... I do feel that kind of attraction towards you. You are a beautiful man, inside and out, and when I am with you, I sometimes forget myself and... pretend I am beautiful too."

She draws in a long, labored breath. She needs all the air in her lungs before this next plunge — she should know, she almost drowned once.

"But I am not. Especially not... from the neck down. You may have gotten used to my face..."

She dips her head — a habitual motion by now — letting her long, side-shaved fringe fall into her eyes. There's always quite a bit to hide under her hair: the dark rivulet of a birthmark on one side, the scar and the squinty damaged eye on the other. At least now she can do alchemical experiments in a mask and protective goggles. Less of an eye sore for Emmrich, to be sure.

"But trust me... My body is much worse."

She shuts her eyes and shrinks back into her seat, momentarily losing her present, adult, more or less mature and competent self (at least when it comes to alchemy and to… saving the world?) in the sheer blood-curdling terror of being seventeen again.

"The boy who took my virginity was so appalled that he said I'd scarred him forever. This has haunted me for ten years. And the... deed itself was punishment from his friends for losing some sort of dare. Do you understand?"

She forces herself to look into his eyes, even as the unseen, tightly wound strings holding her together begin to snap, one by one.

"Being with me... in that way... it's torture. I care for you too much to ever — "

"Lenore, my darling..."

Still on his knees — and still so tall that their faces are level — Emmrich pulls her hand to his lips and covers it in kisses. First on the outer side, swift, soft, each touch a beat of velvety butterfly wings; then, long, nearly reverent, on the inner side, where her pulse hammers against her bluish-pale wrist.

"Thank you for being frank with me. And I am truly, deeply sorry that you were betrayed with... such utter cruelty, in one of your life's most vulnerable moments. That fool of a boy was not the one scarred. You were. And oh, my dearest, you are still bleeding."

She listens to him in petrified silence, still as a startled halla before a long, soundless leap away from danger. She does not mean to — she knows Emmrich better than this by now; if he is disgusted by her, he will be much more polite about it — but instinctively, she braces herself for him to recoil away, grimacing like he is about to vomit. Overwhelmed by the sheer mental image of her laid bare before him. A slug; a toad; the stuff of nightmares.

Any second now. Any second.

He never does recoil.

"I know I cannot close this wound with a few words, much as I wish I could... But, darling, please try to take them to heart nonetheless."

His eyes, fully open now, reflect so much of the Gardens' ephemeral glow that it feels like she's sinking into two pools of starlight.

"Every body is as unique, as precious, as beautiful as the soul within. We study them, we mend them, we venerate them, in life and beyond. Your body is already dear to me because it is yours... And if you were ever to open it to me, like you opened your beautiful mind, there would be no greater honor than to discover — to savor — every last inch of it."

"I..."

Lenore swallows, her head swimming. If this lofty speech were delivered by anyone else, she'd have scoffed in doubt. Does she look like someone to whom a man (or woman, or anyone) would wax poetic about the sanctity of mortal flesh? What's the catch? But it's Emmrich, her Emmrich, whose voice and touch make it so easy to... Well. Forget herself.

"I want you to. Please."

He beams at her, placing one final kiss in the middle of her palm. Like a seal for a secret pact.

"Of course, dearest. Follow me."

They both get up, leaving Manfred (who has been off chasing the see-through Fade butterflies among the headstones, bless his innocent makeshift heart) to clean up their little picnic... Or at least to amuse himself with exploring how tea cups can be neatly stacked together.

Emmrich leads her to a secluded gazebo, crowned by yet another rendition of the embracing skeletal lovers that she has seen throughout the Gardens. Its threshold is barely visible, overgrown by a rustling carpet of delicate white blossoms that heave like the softest seafoam around Lenore's ankles.

"Shroud's kiss," Emmrich muses, after plucking one fragile white cup and placing it in Lenore's hand, right over the spot he kissed. The petals feel weightless against her skin, effervescent as a melting snowflake, as if woven from the Veil itself.

"I always loved the legend around this flower. They say that it grows on lovers' graves, and that one moves closer to the Fade simply by inhaling its fragrance."

He gestures to a bench under the intricate dome of metal lace, which is also cushioned in countless white flowers. She sits down, and a pale blue barrier shimmers into place around the gazebo. Shielding them from prying eyes. Emmrich's doing — or the Gardens'? Was this a secret rendezvous nook for someone else, once? Someone who might be buried underneath? Or, knowing Nevarrans, cast into the statue at the top of the dome?

"Do you think that legend is true?" Lenore asks, momentarily unable to contain herself. The fingers of her free hand race along the tips of the blossoms, and her alchemist's mind races in tandem.

"If we could maybe extract the essential oil and run a few experiments; but oh, that would require sacrificing so many of these beautiful flowers..."

Emmrich chuckles. He has leaned over her, bringing his lips so close to hers that she can drink in his breath, a pulsating heat beginning to rise at the bottom of her stomach.

"It is true if I will it, my dear," he murmurs, and the second he closes the distance, his tongue meeting hers in a kiss deeper than any they have shared before, the air all around them erupts in a cascade of pale-green sparks. Ghostly petals glide through the air, and if Lenore truly does tumble into the Fade, it is in a part of it that is as serene and sheltered as their Lighthouse.

The fragrant breeze is like silk against her burning cheeks, caressing her, each stroke leaving her more and more light-headed. Somehow, her body stops feeling like a heavy heap of scrap metal that she has to lug around while everyone stares at her; it is hugged gently by the cushion of petals, while Emmrich, as promised, explores it with both affection and... and gratitude.

He is still kissing her, diving deep with no fear of drowning, when his gloved hand unbuckles her belt and slips past the innermost layer of her traditional elven tunic. Her insides clench at the sensation of velvety fabric against her stomach rolls, and then her chest. As if she is balancing on a precarious clifftop somewhere back among the floating ruins of Arlathan.

But that startled pang soon dissolves into sweetest bliss. Emmrich has loosened the tunic's collar, allowing her shoulder and breast to escape, out into the warm, perfumed air. How scandalous! How very like the Randy Dowager's Gold Collection! Does she... Does she actually belong in one of those stories?

He continues to trace the outlines of her half-bared form, and his fingers are soon joined by his lips, which wander away from her gasping, half-parted mouth, and keep slowly moving down, paying a tribute of little kisses to each curve, each mole, each stretch mark. With a few motions of his deft, scholar's fingers, the layers of clothing peel off her torso completely, like she herself is a blossom unfolding.

His gaze measures her, from the flaming tips of her teardrop-shaped ears to the contours of her stomach. He smiles, a languid, hazy smile.

"Thank you for letting me see you, dearest."

"Can I..."

She clears her throat, part of her still dumbstruck in disbelief that this is actually happening. That she is actually saying this — to him.

"Can I see you as well?"

"I would be delighted."

She bites her lip, unsure where to start. But, ever so helpful, he weaves his fingers through hers, and patiently directs her through unclasping first his largest bracelet, then his collar pin.

Her heart hammers in her throat when she removes his jewelry and lays it on the bench beside her. With the bulkiest pieces out of the way, the buttons on his vest and shirt go next, and each of her little conquests over the delicate buttonholes is rewarded with a kiss from Emmrich. It does not slip past her that each of those grows a little sloppier than the next, a little more intermingled with bites and short, panting breaths. It's as if... As if he's enjoying her touch as much as she enjoying his.

At long last, his shoulders are bare as well. Exhaling softly, she marvels at the way the shadows of the gazebo’s lattice sculpt his bony clavicles, and runs her hands over the bristly cloud of short silver hair on his chest, and up his throat, where the skin is more worn with years of living, experiencing, being... him.

"You are perfect," she whispers, her thumb trailing over his cheekbones. At the sound of her words, his skin radiates rosy heat, and her body responds in kind.

"As are you, my darling."

His hands are back on her chest, as hers are on his. She chokes back a sound that might be a moan, or might be a sob. He pauses his chain of tender touches, uncertain if she is distressed. But she assuages his doubts by pressing into his mouth with another kiss, and if any tears do roll down her cheeks, those are tears of relief.

He hums in contentment at the back of his throat, and his fingertips, in their endless conductor's dance, brush along the texture of Lenore's many potion splash scars. She shudders when the cold metal of his few remaining rings glides over her, and the pulse between her legs, which has been growing stronger throughout their tender exchange of touches, of admiration, teeters close to its peak.

"Emm... Emmrich?"

She resurfaces from the kiss, dizzy and emboldened by the taste of him, and fumbles about for his hands, guiding them, like he guided hers, to push down her pants. His name comes out sounding as an awkward, stumbling mix between a needy plea and a tentative question. Emmrich, she means to say. Can you... Do this?

The thing is, she has no clue how to accommodate him between her thighs, underneath the soft pillow of her stomach. The worst parts of her, as the mirror says, as the memories in her head jeer.

But he smiles at her, and lavishes her with even more kisses, while she squirms under his searching lips, both nervous and aroused. Soon enough, he finds a comfortable angle... And again, he is on his knees before her. Fully giving himself to worship.

In romance serials, the good, beautiful partner with the perfect body orgasms when they are pleasured by their equally good, beautiful, perfect lover, and merely pretends to orgasm when the bad, comically inept or tragically forced lover, always fat, sweaty, and disgusting, slams against them like a dying tusket. What happens to the fat lover in the meanwhile, tends to be left out of the picture, because theirs is not the part of the story that the reader is here for. Perhaps, when the good lovers elope together into the sunset, the bad, fat lover is left to touch themselves all alone, in shameful secret, making a point not to overindulge, just like Lenore has in the past, because that would be disgusting...

And yet here she is. With a song of short, gasping notes coaxed from her lips, as his tongue circles within her and the ghostly blooms all around them merge into a flash of blinding white light.

When the peak is reached, when the wave hits her, and she, for once, is unafraid to drown, she impulsively grabs at the hair on the back of Emmrich's head... Which she only realizes once her mind stills a little — and instantly lets go, tumbling from the realm of pleasure back into awkward, clumsily physical reality. Apologizing for hurting him, again and again.

He looks up at her in half-drunken confusion, his hair in disarray, the pearly thread of her sex glinting in the corner of his mouth.

"Darling..." he manages to slur, his breath hitching. "You did not — "

Despite herself, she glances a little further down. And, for the first time — oh, by the Maker, Mythal, whoever, she is still so clueless! — she notices the bump in his pants. The little wet spot.

Oh. Oh.

He liked that.

"I wish I knew how to use my mouth the... the same way..." she stammers bluntly, still not looking away from the straining fabric.

"That is quite all right," he mouths, carelessly unspooling the band of red around his waist.

"There will be more nights like this one."

Until you become a lich and your duties take you away from someone so small and insignificant, a stray thought, like a charge of ice magic, runs through her brain, down her throat, impaling her very heart.

Grinding her teeth slightly, she wills her mind to return to the present moment. To the here and now. To Emmrich, brought to blissful ruin by the sight and feel and taste of her innermost self. To his sweet little moans and the rhythmic, almost elegant up-and-down pumps of his jeweled fingers, as they cup around the cock he finally brought out of his pants.

She never thought that Focus on his cock, focus on his cock, Lenore! would be a little chant of reassurance. The last time she saw erect, leaking flesh before her, she would rather have focused on anything else. But who knew that intimacy could be so different... even for the likes of her?

She bends forward and sneaks in a few kisses — on his wet mouth, over the desperately thrumming vein under his jaw — before his shuddering release leaves a messy splash of evidence over the both of them. She will help wash it off, of course; she knows the best potion mixes to do that... But it won't be something shameful, something that she had to get over with, retching and doubling over, her underthings stolen as evidence that the brave hero had survived the battle with the oozing, lumpy giant slug. It's simple, and natural — something that bodies do.

Bodies that are cherished and taken care of and worshipped. Hers revealed to him, his revealed to her.

Alive, here and now. Their skeletal forebears watching over them, in kindness and understanding.

[asmutwriter]

You Saved Me (Part 21)

DESCRIPTION: (Season 15) After the events of season 15, Dean realises he may have been rejecting his own feelings towards you and decides to come clean.

WORD COUNT: 1163

A/N: Is this completely out of character for Dean? Absolutely! But my man deserves a happy ending so we're going to look past that.

From Beginning / Master List  

WARNINGS: fluff, kissing, declaration of love

DISCLAIMERS

- This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

A MONTH LATER

You sit upstairs from your bar in your living room. Hearing the distant sound of Lydia in her bedroom. Anna was at her boyfriends this weekend. Having the time off of your bar work. You sort through the various paperwork items you have to do. Pros of you being your own boss was that you could decide to shut early if you so desired. Today was one of those days. Knowing you had a lot of paperwork to complete by the end of the month.

Wanting to get the main bulk of the Christmas pre-planning over before December came around. Buying people gifts before the prices shot up in price ideally. Knowing you could then work through most of that month and be able to have the time off during the school holidays so you could spend time with your children.

So you sat in your own little bubble. The distant sound of Lydia chatting to her friend upstairs in her room echoing down the stairs. You pay it no mind. Often you would overhear her conversations but kindly ignore them for the privacy of your daughter. Instead you were drowning it out from your TV. Playing various rock tunes on YouTube.

You run a hand through your hair. Trying to make sense of the numbers before you. Hearing a knock at the door. Unusual. You weren't expecting any visitors today and the bar clearly said closed at the moment. Maybe Anna had left something behind before going to Henry's then forgotten her key to get back in. Leaving the paperwork you stand up. Grabbing your own set off keys from the side as you head down the stairs. Going to the front door and unlocking it. Meeting a pair of eyes you weren't expecting.

"Dean!" you say his name. Smiling at the green eyed man. His demeanour was off. He seemed... happier. Especially since the past few times you've seen him. A lot happier in fact. He wastes no time. His hands coming up as they cup your face. His movements quick as he plants his lips onto yours. Moulding into yours.

It takes a short while to compute what is happening. Soon softening into his touch. Fluttering your eyes shut. You bring your hands up. Taking his wrists in your hands as he continues kissing you. The only way to make this moment more romantic and spontaneous was if it started raining. But that would be to cliché.

He pulls away. Looking down at you. His eyes connecting with yours. "What was that for?" your voice no more then a whisper.

"I am not the man I want to be. I don't want to be this... unfeeling killer. I want to be happy. Have a family". He takes in a breath. His hands still holding your face. Taking a small step closer to you. One you didn't think was possible due to his already close proximity. "I want to be the best step dad I can be to two girls who I adore. To spend the rest of my life with the woman I fell in love with". He pauses a moment. Waiting for a response. You take in what he said. Eyes searching his features.

"You... Why? Why now? Why me?"

"A lot of crap has happened over the past couple of days. The main thought I couldn't stop thinking was 'I hope you and the girls are ok'. I know that I haven't always been good to you. But you always stick by my side. Regardless of the horrible things I've done. You understand me. You understand this life that I've been forced down". He takes in a quick breath before talking again. A more hushed and quiet tone then before. "You've saved me more times then I'd like to admit" you push your lips together. "I love you Kathrine. I'm sorry its taken me this long to admit it".

You swallow deeply. Moving your eyes downwards. Blinking a few times as you feel tears prick at your eyes. "I love you too" you whisper. Keeping your eyes away from his gaze. Not seeing the flash of pure joy and bliss rush through his body. But you do feel the pang hit your chest. Like a weight had been lifted from your body. You pan your gaze to look at him. It was as if you were looking into his eyes for the first time. A new glimmer shined in them as he looks at you. He leans forward again. Kissing you deeply. Your hands moving from his wrists as they snake around his shoulders and neck.

"Mum?" you hear a voice from the top of the stairs speak. Breaking the kiss you drop Deans embrace. Moving so you can look up the steps. Your youngest daughter standing at the top. Looking down at you. You smile at her. "I was looking for you"

"Sorry lovely. Someone was at the door". She tilts her body down. Taking a couple of steps to help gain visibility on who it is. Dean moving so he's in her line of sight. Her face beams as she runs down the stairs. Enrapturing him into a hug as she leaps at him. His hands go to her back and head. Hugging her close as he smiles. A true joy written on his face. Then you hear the bark. Your joyous face turning to confusion as you hear the bark from the car. Deans car. Dean who dislikes animals. Especially when they are in his car. Flicking your head around. A light furred dog sits in the passenger seat. Lydia looks over. Following your gaze.

"Dog!" she calls out. Breaking away from the warm hug. Rushing over to the vehicle.

"When did you get a dog?" You question him. He smiles. Taking a few extra steps to get to Baby. Opening the front door and letting the hound out. You go over to him. Standing next to him as you both watch your daughter. Lydia sitting onto the floor as the dog gives her affection. Wagging its tail as it licks her face. Causing her to laugh. Wiping her face as she gives the dog praise through her disgust.

"I found him a few days ago. I named him Miracle". Lydia looks up at the green eyed man before going back to the dog. Stroking and kissing his head as she showers him with more love. "Besides-" he looks at you. Smiling. You tilt your head up to look at him. Raising an eyebrow as you meet his soft eyes. "We're dating now. Its our dog". You roll your eyes. Feeling him put an arm around your torso. Resting it onto the hip furthest from him. Kissing the top of your head as you bring a hand up. Resting it onto his chest as you lean into him. Watching your daughter play with your new pet dog.

THE END - FOR NOW

TAGS: @sojuxxi

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Monet Issues By Chase Petra

Summary: You are the daughter of Tony Stark but DNA is the only thing you have the proves he’s your father. You were raised by his assistants and nannies. When an interview comes out, you have a few choice words you want to say to the billionaire. 

Word Count: 2.3 k 

Warning: implied sexual relationship, child abuse, child neglect, Tony is kind of a horrible father. 

“Good morning, Diane,” you said, placing her coffee order on her desk. It was Monday morning and every Monday you brought coffee for everyone on your team. It was a tradition you started when your tech company was 4 people. Now you had about 15 employees, still small but you were in the bar with the likes of Stark Industries and Bishop Securities. 

“You are in a good mood,” she said, taking a sip of her iced coffee. “Did you have a good weekend?” You smiled. 

“I spent the weekend up north with no service and a beautiful woman,” Diane smiled, shaking her head. 

“Good, you deserved it. Let me know if you need anything.” You gave her a salute and headed through the rest of the office. You gave your employees their coffee and asked about their weekends. Finally, you sat down at your desk with a sigh. Mondays were the busiest with long meetings and phone calls to start the week on the right foot. You opened your email and saw you had over 1000 unread emails. 

“Morning boss,” Taylor said as she came into your office with her laptop. You rolled your eyes. 

“Not your boss, Tay.” You said, not looking up from your laptop. Taylor was your business partner and best friend since grade school. She set a bag down on your desk, you knew it was snacks to help you both get through the long meetings. She shrugged. 

“Yeah, but your name is on the building.” That was true. Fundamentally, it was Taylor’s idea to focus the company on advancing medical products for veterans due to losing her father at a young age. But you were a Stark, the company was under your mother’s name as that was when you went by. L/n Production, you wanted nothing to do with Tony. 

“Can you tell me why every news station is requesting a comment from me?” You asked. “What the hell happened?” 

“That is where I come in,” Emily said, entering your office. Her usual put-together bun that sat on her head was disheveled. She must have had a long weekend and an early morning since no reporters were standing outside your office. “So, I’m guessing you didn’t see it.” You glared at her. “Sorry, don’t look at me like that.” She picked up her coffee and plugged her computer into the TV that was mounted on the wall. It took a moment for it to load and you saw a clip of an interview with your father and Jimmy Fallon. You groaned, holding up your hand. 

“Wait,” you said before she pressed play. “Is this going to piss me off?” It was a zoom style interview as Tony lived upstate at the Avenger’s compound. 

“Probably,” Taylor mumbled, sipping on her coffee. You sighed and waved your hand for Emily to continue. She pressed the spacebar. 

“And your daughter, Y/n L/n,” you could tell the clip was from the middle of the interview. Tony put a smile at the mention of your name. “She’s making quite a name for herself. She and her team were given the Presidential Medal of Freedom and nominated for a Nobel Prize for their work in prosthetics.” Jimmy held up a picture of you and Tony at the White House. You invited him to the event to avoid the press, not that you wanted him there. “You must be extremely proud.” 

“I am,” your jaw clenched. “She has made this old man very proud.” Well, that was news to you. 

“When she was younger did she always have an interest in falling in your footsteps in the tech world?” Tony laughed. 

“Jimmy, I couldn’t keep her out of my lab.”

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, putting your hands over your face. 

“Those times spent together are memories that are important to me,” your father continued. “And I like to think that those memories shaped her into the person she is today.” The video ended. Your office was silent. Throughout your entire career, you’ve tried to separate yourself from him. Tony Stark. Ironman. He had many names but father wasn’t something you would call him. You were raised by the nannies he hired. You paid your way through school by working waitress jobs, retail jobs on holidays, and babysitting gigs when you had the time. You wanted nothing to do with Tony Stark since he wanted nothing to do with you. When your mother died, he didn’t even show up to the funeral. 

“I’m gonna kill him.” You said, standing up and throwing your work essentials in your bag.  You were taking a trip to Upstate New York. You didn’t wait for Taylor and Emily to say anything as you headed to the door. 

“Egghead,” you stopped at the nickname Taylor called out. “I can’t afford to bail you out so don’t kill the man.” You chuckled, waved your hand, and left. 

*

“Miss. Stark,” FRIDAY as you walked into the compound. “It has been a long time.” 

“And I told you to stop calling me that,” you told the AI. The AI was silent for a moment. 

“My apologies, it appears the boss changed it.” You sighed. Of course, he did. 

“Where is he?” You asked. 

“He’s in the conference room with the rest of the team. Would you like me to alert you of your arrival?” You smirked. 

“Let’s surprise him, that’s more fun.” 

*

Steve was standing in front of the team with a blueprint of a factory. The words were in Russian. You leaned against the open team, the team was engrossed in what the super soldier was saying you went unnoticed. While one person saw you, a certain redhead. The Russian smirked at you. You set her a playful wink. “Y/n,” Steve said, interrupting Tony. The table looked away from your father and to you. You gave them a small wave.  

“It’s my favorite Stark!” Clint said. Tony rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t eat my leftovers like last time,” Clint called after you. You flipped him off over your shoulder. 

“I’m hurt, Legolas,” he finally looked at you. “I didn’t know you were making a trip up here."

“Finish your meeting. I’ll be in the kitchen.” 

That was the problem. You enjoyed the company of the other Avengers but being around Tony made your blood boil. It was frustrating. You opened the fridge and pulled out the ingredients to make a salad. You weren’t sure how long the meeting was going to be. 

The answer was 45 minutes. In that time, you ate your salad, made coffee, and joined in on two meetings for work. You were sitting on the couch with your laptop open when the Avengers walked into the common floor. Clint made a beeline for the fridge, to make sure you didn’t eat his food. Steve went by the window with a sketchbook in his hands and Sam sat down next to you, turning on the TV. Finally, Tony walked in but he walked to the coffee pot instead of you. You sighed, standing up. “Do I smell or something?” Sam asked. You laughed. 

“No, I have to go talk to the old man.” 

“Good luck with that.” You smiled. Tony was pouring a cup of coffee into a mug. 

“Hey, can we talk for a second?” You asked. He shook his head. 

“Can’t right now. I have to do some modifications to the suit before the upcoming mission.” You bite back a sigh. 

“Okay, how about when you are done?” He put the pot back on the machine. 

“We’ll see if I’m not busy.” He began to walk towards his lab. 

“So you’ll only talk about me in interviews, is that it?” Tony turned back to look at you. “Nice interview by the way. Jimmy knows how to bring out your good side.”

“You saw that.” He said, a hint of surprise in his voice. 

“Half the world saw it, Tony, according to how many news stations were in my inbox looking for a statement.” You were becoming the center of attention with the other Avengers. You noticed a few more entering the space. Wanda and Vision were in the kitchen and Natasha were on the couch, her feet tucked underneath her as she watched the interaction between you and Tony. 

“Maybe we should take this conversation somewhere else,” You laughed. 

“Oh, now you have time for me because a few minutes ago you weren’t going to give me the time of day. But now since your image of yourself is being fucked with you have time,” you took a step forward. “Who are you to credit yourself with my accomplishments? How could you lack such common sense?” You asked. “You may have given me a name but blood doesn’t mean a thing 'cause I did it all on my own. So, disown me, you don’t owe me, I don’t want your money so feel free to leave me out of your will.” The man was silent in front of you. It was the first time you’d seen him speechless. “You don’t deserve the title of my father.” The slap caught you by surprise. You touched the spot he hit and stared at him. He seemed shocked. Your jaw clenched. The common floor was silent. It was a loud silence. “You are lucky I have any ounce of respect for Pepper or I would be suing your ass.” You grabbed your bag from the couch and walked towards the door. You heard footsteps behind you but you didn’t stop until you felt the sun on your face. You sat down on the bench, squeezing the metal. You looked at Natasha. She was frowning as she cupped the cheek Tony hit. 

“Do you want me to kill me?” She asked. You shook your head. 

“His death is not worth it to add to your ledger,” you said, kissing the palm of her head. She sat down next to you. 

“He hit you,” she said. “He put his hands on his daughter.” You nodded. 

“I know,” you whispered. “But it’s not your fight, okay?” She didn’t look convinced. She was angry and you knew if you allowed her to, she would march back in there and deal with him. “Just sit here with me.” You placed her head on her shoulder. She sighed and relaxed on the bench. 

“Stay the night,” she said. That was the last thing you wanted to do. “This weekend wasn’t enough.” She kissed the top of your head. Her fingers skim underneath your shirt. “I’ll make it worth you're wild.” You smirked. 

“Are you trying to bribe me into sleeping with you?” You asked. She smiled.  

“You didn’t need much bribing this weekend,” you rolled your eyes. “Please malyshka (baby girl).” She whispered, kissing your cheek. 

“Okay, since you are twisting my arm.” She laughed against your neck. 

*

Knocking woke you up. You groaned and burrowed your head deeper into the pillow. But the knocking continued. You opened your eyes, blinking the sleep away. Natasha was slowly waking up. Her red hair fanned out over the pillow as she lay on her stomach facing you. “Who's at the door, FRIDAY?” She asked the AI. 

“Mr. Stark is at your door,” the redhead sighed. 

“I am going to kill him.” She mumbled. You kissed her shoulder. 

“I’ll deal with him,” you stood up and found a shirt and shorts to throw on quickly. “Are you going with him knowing about us?” You asked. Natasha’s eyes were already closed. 

“FRIDAY must have told him you were here,” she said, yawning. “I’ll deal with him later.” You smiled and headed to the door. You opened it. You could only imagine what you looked like. Your hair was probably a mess from Natasha running her fingers through it. You had hickeys on your skin. Since you were still half asleep you weren’t sure if you were wearing your clothes. 

“Tony,” you said, leaning against the door frame. “Good morning. How are you?” 

“What are you doing in Romanoff’s room?” He asked. 

“Well Tony,” you noticed by saying his name was getting under his skin. “I’m sleeping with her.” You smiled. “I have been for a while,” you added. 

“No, not happening,”

“Oh I missed the part where I asked you if it was okay,” you heard Natasha chuckle from inside her room. 

“Your my kid I don’t-”

“I’m your kid?” You cut him off. “The last time I checked I disowned you and you slapped me across the face.” There was no bruise but the feeling was there. You flinched a few times when Natasha took you by surprise and touched your cheek. 

“Look, I'm sorry.” You stared at him.   

“Sorry about what exactly?” You asked. “Because you are the source of all my scarring. I spent too many years underneath rubble that I got myself out of. I put my heart back together. Do yourself a favor and leave me alone.” You closed the door on him. You took the clothes you were wearing off and climbed back into bed. Natasha rested her head on your chest and looked up at you. You loved staring into her green eyes. 

“Are you okay, malysh (baby)?” She asked. You smiled. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” 

*

You made the trip back home that afternoon. It was nice being back in the city, in your apartment. You took a quick shower and changed into sweatpants and a white tank top. It was going to be a long night. You sat on your dining room table with a cup of coffee in your hands. You were watching a recorded zoom meeting that you missed. But you winced from a slight pinch on your neck. You touched your neck and felt a tranquilizer dart. The room around you began to spin. The coffee mug fell from your hands and shattered to the ground. You fell to the floor and the world went black. 

_

Part 2 here

[iceunhie]

synopsis: Kaveh doesn’t really like Christmas shopping with you for one (1) reason: You have horrible taste in matching Christmas outfits. 

warnings: 1.1k words, slight mention of Cyno and Tighnari, small mention of Collei BC she's my daughter my baby fr, modern au!! bff kaveh has my heart honestly he'd be such a good friend yet u still have to tell him to take a breather on his issues like get this man some help pls judgy kaveh but he swears it's in good faith lol

mhie’s notes: participating in @2023gisecretsanta's secret santa event! this piece is for the wonderful @june-again <3 i hope you enjoy this fic and have a wonderful happy holidays !! took a little break from romantic writing since you said you preferred platonic heehee,,, i shuld really write for kaveh more he's so silly

“No.”

You sigh, before plastering your best sopping wet cat expression. “Please, Kaveh? My wonderful, amazing, incredibly talented, bestest friend—”

“First of all, gross–” you stick out your tongue at him. “And second, [Name], I already told you this a million times and I'm going to say it again. I will not be caught dead in that… that abomination.” 

“C’mon, pleasee? It's just to take pictures with, I swear!” you say as you shove the red, abnormally large Christmas jacket to your best friend’s face, trying to at least get him to relent for just a few minutes. You do not succeed, and this only furthers the mortification in his eyes. This has been something Kaveh had been dreading for a long time already. 

It'd been a pretty okay day, his design for a new architecture project was approved and he was looking forward to excitedly sharing the news with you over a nice meal after work, only to be faced with the hell that is Christmas shopping near the Grand Bazaar in downtown Sumeru with Cyno and Tighnari, who are currently browsing through the rows of nice ‘make-your-own-plushie’ kits to give to Collei as a gift.

After you lot met up after your respective work and caught up by a delicious meal in a fancy restaurant (his wallet is screaming bloody murder right now though), the first stop he was immediately dragged to was a clothing store by you, and normally he would gladly pick outfits with you without complaint, but you were a huge fan of picking these tacky (sorry, but it's true) Christmas jackets that came in pairs to match with him. Best friend privileges, you say, but that absolutely clashes with his style. Like, he loves you, really, you're his friend and partner in crime and probably the only person he trusts more than Al-haitham, that bastard, anyway, but that (the sweater) is nothing but a fashion disaster waiting to unfold.

So he crosses his arms, Kaveh giving you a withering stare. “In the first place, why this sweater of all things? And that color?!” 

“It looks good on you! See, it even matches with your eyes! It's modern.”

“It's horrendous, that's what.” 

“Hey! You criticizing my style choices now?”

“Uh, duh? Why else are we friends? Why else am I your best friend, huh?” 

“Still, it's the holidays, so indulge me just this once, please?” 

“Excuse you, just this once? Last year was that green jacket that was too itchy for me to even wear! And the Christmas tree design in it wasn't even halfway finished!” 

“Hey! The Christmas tree print on it was still cute though, don't lie. And you wore it anyway.” you say dismissively, and you press against the sleeves of the jacket.

“Well, yeah, but–” Kaveh stops himself, before giving you an exasperated expression. “Wait, no, that isn't the point here! The point is, we should just look for better options!”

“Aww, but this one has a reindeer and elf print on this….” you sigh, disappointed. Kaveh eyes you with skepticism before turning to the aforementioned sweater. 

Okay, maybe it wasn't so bad… the reindeer print and the elves helping out the Santa Claus on the jacket front was kinda endearing… wait, no, don’t be swayed! 

“In any case,” he snips, putting a hand on his face and eyeing you distrustfully, “We can talk about that—” he gives the jacket a horrendous look of distaste, “later. For now we should just meet up with Cyno and Tighnari.” 

Before Kaveh can exit the store, however, you pull him back. “Nuh uh! Those two are going to take forever getting presents and you know it.” and just when he thought he dodged a bullet, you immediately give him the jacket, send him over to the fitting rooms and even have the mind to say ‘take your time!’ and then leave him be.

So, inside the fitting room, Kaveh can only try to struggle to find the utter appeal of the very, very questionably designed Christmas Jacket. There are two beings on his shoulder right now, the one with imaginary angel wings and of course, the one that's undoubtedly the devil.

‘Do it for [Name]! Please, this is exclusive best friend privilege and you're just going to throw it away? This is tradition!’ the nicer one says, endlessly using his moral compass as means for Kaveh to accept, and he almost does, really, but of course, with the angel comes the devil.

‘[Name] will understand if you don't wanna wear it! Besides, they've never had the best taste in fashion when it comes to Christmas jackets! Surely just one refusal won't hurt?’ 

“Okay, stop, stop!! I'm getting too into my head right now, I have to weigh the options….” Kaveh mentally chides himself and the little voices in his head, but ultimately comes up in a slump; on one hand, refusing you was fine, he knew that you would respect his decision, as you had always had. But… if he accepted just one night of humiliation, which will no doubt come in the form of Al-haitham and Cyno giving subtle and noticeable teasing when all of you gather around the local Lambad’s Tavern to celebrate Christmas Eve. Heck, even Collei would probably give him a look of pity! Kaveh hates it, really, but then again, it was just one night….

And you’d be disappointed! Also, what if instead of him who has to endure the matching Christmas jackets, what if you would match with someone else? No way, no way. Those were his best friend privileges and he was not forsaking them. Hmm, this was seriously a hard decision to make.

One day of humiliation versus the loss of potentially Kaveh’s and your Christmas tradition forever and likely the appearance of being a horrid friend– okay, he was overreacting here, but still! A horrid friend to you. Would he, in all his good conscience, really turn you down?

“Ooh, looking good there. I told you it wasn’t too bad!” you’re smiling and slightly smirking (no doubt you knew about his moral dilemma) at him when Kaveh comes out of the fitting room, donning the very oversized, very unfashionable jacket. “Oh my god, Al-haitham is never ever going to let you live this down.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” he grumbles, clearly swatting your phone away. “Can we just get it over with now? I swear I'm going to be so sweaty in this jacket. You’re lucky you have best friend perks.”

“Heh, don’t mention it! No one can resist my wonderful and amazing personality. Now, wear this too-!”

“Wait, hey! I never agreed to the Christmas hat-! Hey, [Name]!”

@ MHIIEEE 2023 : do not copy, repost or plagiarize my work.

[ryusaidate]

moving from twitter because yap yap yap

"iirc people say her voice acting makes her come off cartoonishly evil but as someone who spends far more time rereading the script than playing the game, the bar flashback is like... i don't know. human. i don't have anything smart to say about it.

"moms are just like this. and renju talking about his wife like a zoo animal and through it they are just people who made bad decisions it makes me want to lie down on the floor for a very long time

"i would say the eitoku high bitches and their horrible taste in partners* are one of my favourite parts of the game but i would then go down a list of related thematic points calling all them my favourite too. did you know i like this game?

"*the actual category for me is so, renju, and hitomi, and their narrative haunting dead wives. the third step down this line is "the narrative being haunted" (iris, mizuki, date) and all points on this chart run back to being about hitomi / saito parallels. Did You Know I Like Th"

something about shoko and saito being characterized as 'people who hurt their loved ones because they never learned the right way to love' against half the main cast either obfuscating the identity of a serial killer or Killing Someone for a loved one (and this being identified as a harmful act to both them and the people around them) is like. waves arms around violently!!!!

i am thinking about renju speaking so authoritatively about why shoko can't take care of mizuki then saying 'i can't do anything i'm too busy' to date who is so in his own shit about being horrible he still thinks the best thing he can do for mizuki is keep his distance from her despite the fact The Problem Was Emotional Neglect

god renju has so many Central Thesis Lines despite also sucking so bad he's incredible. "Mizuki is hungry for love" "But you can't think about revenge now. You and the baby can't lead a life like that." - guy who will not take care of his kid and watched old people get killed for money

i am thinking about the maid cafe, the guy who is never home making an artificial commercialised setting around it, i am thinking about his daughter spending most of her time there, i am thinking about his daughter finding his corpse there, and her mother's at the one place they made a happy memory, and her best friend's corpse in the same place she saw a dead body that looked identical to it a month ago. i am thinking about the completely fictional 'narrative dead girl' visual iris takes up (i swear by the fact iris route is peak if you look at it through this lens and the belief that you were meant to assume her eye is missing before she dies because the psync swapped her with annihilation route iris. swear to god.)

i am thinking about the boss - falco // so - saito isms.....

i am thinking about the fact the guilt has to go somewhere if you absolve yourself of blame, thinking about shoko blaming mizuki for being abnormal and mizuki blaming herself for her parents deaths because she couldn't be normal, thinking about so only taking the blame for what happened to saito far far far too late and manaka's death being the one 'awful thing' saito talks about like something he did that was his fault (when not deliberately playing it up to piss off date)

i am thinking about saito against hitomi letting revenge against 'the person who took away your love' become your only focus instead of building a new life i am thinking about saito digging his heels in to remain stuck in the past through every opportunity he's given trying to drag date back down with him despite the fact he's moved on and built a new life, hurling insults at a man who doesn't exist anymore because no, he has to still be falco because saito needs to kill falco to make it stop hurting, the way he killed his father, the way he killed manaka. i am thinking about the fact that the reason why what saito is doing is wrong, narratively speaking, is because he's fucking miserable every second of it.

i am thinking about 'someone you love' as a 12 or 6/30/40 year old roommate you talk about like a pet cat or a coworker or a coworker with amnesia in the body of a serial killer or an ai hamster, that's neither here nor there i just think it's good.

i think......................... the game is good.

[inconstantpain42]

I am not really sure how it's started. In July i had a polip removal and they put the mirena coil in me...i was bleeding all the tome and had some mild pain and discomfort. After my dad died i went to Poland to clean the house and to make gastroscopy because here in UK I could not afford it. Second day in Poland got me acute Bronchitis (I guess from the plain aircondition) and I ended up in hospital. It was nightmare, not sleeping, bad food but they got me better and I asked to be released after 5 days, and they did with antibiotic for the next 2 weeks. After that I went to do private endoscopy which gave me another 2 weeks of antibiotics. I didn't take it well and when I came back to UK doctor switched to different.5 weeks of antibiotics..in hospital they have checked my coil and they said its too deep so they repositioned it but it didnt help with pain or bleeding..A week after I came back I hurted my back by pushing on my own the huge chair upstairs which I bought for my daughter.

I dont know why I did this but the back pain was so severe I thought i will die....I got diazepam for few days on A&E and went to toilet and I think I strained myself to much with suppositories becasue the pain in my back worsen....and it's been already 2 months exactly 2 months like this...Pain from my back progressed to my low stomach and I lost function of bladder. I had catherer for 1month and the bladder is working but I don't feel when it's full, need to press with my hand on it to feel sharp pain than I know its time to go wee....I have a pain in my tail bone as well going to my annus and horrible pain of my vagina. My theory is it's a pelvic prolapse but the doctors don't want to check it. I had emergency clil removal and, believe me or not it will sort my problems. But it didnt.They done, here in Uk MRI scan and checked my kidney with cr scan, when I was in hospital for the kidney stones, and said they can't see problem. I have some bulges in my l4l5 and s1 but they said there is no nerve compression....I do believe I have prolapsed cervix or intestine cos after going to toilet the pain of my pelvic and back and annus it's unbearable...Painkillers not working. I forgot to say that since they catheterised me I had been having UTI 5 times (in 2 months) and some problems with my vagina after coil removed. All the time infections, trush etc. The worst part is that I started to horrible muscle cramps in my both toes, but right is much worse and I am loosing the feeling in my toes. Hard to walk...Maybe you ask yourself now if I am mental, believe me anyone would get depression and anxiety of they would be me. I never had any problems like that and I am not sure what is the cause and what is solution. Of there is any solution....? Today is really bad day. I barely slept, I strained the muscles on the toilet going 4 times today and no my back, anus and pelvic is killing me. I tried to have a sex twice, after organising o have such a horrible pain in my pelvic i can't stand it...not like is better without sex but after sex is maximum and it's hard to come. I have ruined my life I don't know which of the parts contributed but my life is over for sure. I didn't go to work for already 2 months I lost 10 kilos I weight now same as my 10 years old..My partner its not like my partner no more, noone cares about me, noone talks to me. I pushed away all of my friends becasue I am daily in so much pain I dont want to talk to anyone....Gabriel doesn't even care, he doesnt even ask how I am...neither my 10 years old. She is autistic but mild autism, so she should be more engaged right? I have enough of this pain and have w enough of myself....I am not sure how much longer I can stand this pain....I am exhausted from not sleeping...crying everyday. Someone's give me hope....please cos I have no hope. My hope it's gone. I dont know whats wrong with me. Why I am getting worse? I want to be back on my feet and be good mum again and back to work and be a better partner so maybe my partner will be better for me as well...I regret everything. I just want the pain to be gone..... Is it only in my head? I DONT THINK SO..

#pelvic

[kirschbluetenregen-ao3]

Nagoya — Day 5 (and 6)

I wanted to wait until I have enough time to speak about our time in Nagoya, as this was a brief, but for me a very special stop.

About 2.5 years ago I met two very fantastic Japanese women over HelloTalk, an app to meet people as language exchange partners. One of these women currently lives in Germany with her husband but will return to Japan next year. The other one lives in Nagoya and we met the first time when I was in Japan in March last year. She came to Kyoto to spend the day with us, and this time she invited me and my cousin to stay one night at her home with her and her family. I felt so very honoured we were allowed to visit her and she really put so much thought into this!

Together with her I also met another Japanese friend I got to know because of said friend from Nagoya. She’s an English teacher and brought one of her English classes with my Japanese class together so we come together once a month in a Zoom meeting and have a cultural exchange.

So, those two very kind women picked us up at the subway station, we dropped our stuff at her home, met her husband, and then made our way to Nagoya Castle as we wished to make some sightseeing together. On our way we stopped at a udon restaurant and had lunch together.

Nagoya Castle is very beautiful and it was such a big inspiration for me for my upcoming writing I want to explore further later on. I was so grateful to experience this together with Japanese people.

In the evening they all prepared several dishes for us and we sat together, chatting and eating, very Japanese like at a narrow table. If you have ever wondered how Japanese people can sit so long kneeling down like me—they can’t. 🤣 My friend told me that occasions like a funeral where you actually have to sit in one place on your knees for so long are horrible. Your legs will go numb and they also have problems to get up then. Somehow this really was a relief for me. 😄

As my cousin’s birthday was coming up about a week later but we wouldn’t see each other then, we celebrated her birthday together beforehand. My friend was so kind to order one of those birthday cakes and it was so good! And then they even had presents for both of us. Japanese people use name stamps to sign, at work, when they receive packages, for everything. So they gave us stamps with our names, written in katakana and I was overwhelmed they actually had them made for us! 🥺

And they even rented futon for us to sleep on. This was a new experience for me (I already thought we would have those in Hakone, but we didn’t), and I have to say, this is something I have to get used to. 😅 I have some back problems, so literally sleeping on the floor can be hard.

Anyway, for breakfast my friend prepared onigiri (rice balls) and then gave us a short introduction on of what was coming up as we had a calligraphy lesson with her daughter. And this really wasn’t easy at all! We wrote a very easy kanji, 木. This means tree. But when writing it in calligraphy, it’s not easy at all. 😂 I learned about myself that I’m a very impatient person. You really have to take your time in writing those signs, fully concentrated, and kind of have to relax. And then here I am, always full of thoughts, hasty, and way too much of a perfectionist. But it showed me that I really have to calm down, and it also was a lot of fun. We were also allowed to write our names in katakana. That was also not that easy.

Then it was already time for us to leave. I’m so grateful for that one day I could spend with my friend and I really hope to meet her again!

Now for my inspiration for the upcoming chapters of “Embrace of Brightness”, as well and especially for “Eclipse”.

Next to Nagoya Castle was the rebuilding of a residence to show how the Shogun lived when he visited Nagoya. We were allowed to take pictures there and damn, that was a lot of gold to show off. 😄

(In Kyoto we visited Nijo Castle. It also had those golden rooms, but as most of those were still originals, we were not allowed to take pictures there.)

It really gives me an idea on how the Shogun lived in Japan. I later learned more about this, but this I will explore when I speak about Kyoto. There were several private rooms and rooms for official occasion where he held audiences. And especially this I wanted to point out.

This was the place the Shogun was seated at those audiences. He was placed higher than all the other court members. Do you see this dome shaped ceiling? He was sitting under it to emphasize his status. And now imagine Ryuu sitting exactly there. I really love the idea of it!

I will definitely have a lot of images now I can use for my descriptions. Thank you to my friend for taking me to this place!

[theleechyskrunkly]

VENT! Heed warnings in the tags.

honestly I’m so scared of adulthood. And exams. What do you mean that for me to be a functioning member of society I have to know how to find the area of a triangle and the mass of the moon? What do you mean one day I’m gonna have to wake up everyday, go to work, and realize 80% of what I cried over and what ruined my mental health in school is gonna be useless to my day to day life?

with the way this world works, I just want to live my teenage years at full blast (which I’m not allowed to) and then just die early. I don’t wanna live past 25 years of age because then I’ll constantly be haunted with the constant “when are you having kids? When will you mature? Do you have a partner? Do you have a good job? When will you become a lawyer?” And so on.

The school system is driving me insane. Why do I feel like if I don’t pass this math test I’m not worth anything? Why do I feel dumb, stupid, incapable of understanding what everyone is? Why do I feel like crying because I don’t have all As? Why is everything so tough to keep up with? Why do I have to study 8 different things everyday for years just to forget everything and work an underpaying job that will barely help me get through in this economy?

why am I, as a teen, already worrying about how I’m gonna pay bills in the future? How I’m gonna pay taxes, what career I should take, how will I take care of my parents when they’re old and incapable of working anymore, what I’m gonna do when they die, how will I take care of my sister?

i just don’t get why I can’t enjoy myself the way my friends do. Going out and having fun and getting good grades and being model students and teens in general. Why am I so different? Why am I locked up at home without even being allowed my phone despite being a good behaving daughter? I don’t do drugs, I don’t vape nor smoke, I don’t cheat, I don’t tell my address to random people, I don’t talk to strangers on the street, I don’t sneak out. So why is it that I’m such a horrible daughter? Why am I worse than my 24 year old brother in me mother’s eyes, despite him raping me? Harassing me? Beating me for years straight? Why am I worse that him just because I didn’t do the dishes or told a lie or used my phone for too long? Why am I always the problem? Why can’t I be allowed to make a mistake, once or twice?

why is it always me? Always always ALWAYS me.

i just don’t feel alive. Nor do I feel like living. What if we live and die and it runs out there’s nothing after we die. We just lose consciousness and never wake again. Then what was it all for? All the studying, the crying, the hurting. What was it all for? What is it all for?

[fancyfeathers]

Albert really going, 'I did it for us', when there had never been anything between him and his darling in the first place; and then striking her in the face when she spits the truth that this prisonerhood disguised as marriage was all his decision and nothing of hers.

He probably knew, deep down that darling was 100% right but justified (not rationalized, because he knew that what he did was both illogical) it as protecting her. Saying that he could have a dreamed-of loving relationship, by proclaiming it as a rescue was a delusion that's likely embedded into his 'love' for her.

She could would have lived well without Albert but he couldn't stand that, and so chose to make put his desires above her happiness... so any platitudes or reasons he gives will always be unacceptable especially as he murdered her family afterwards. There is no affection or fondness he can ever win from her, in my opinion but it clearly hasn't fully sunk in for him. Or at least until after that escape.

The best he was ever going to get was cold treatment and disgusted resignation, and I think that's it's only now sinking in: by declaring she'd have rather been dead than be 'saved' by him, his darling's said she would never accept him like he had fantasized. Hence, why he lashed out.

I am curious though, if he would double down on his delusions by maintaining the previous status quo (getting her to behave pr concincing himself it was just a lapse of control on both their parts) or if she had cracked it broken enough that Albert would back off somewhat.

The Games We Play of Dust and Ash (Yandere Moriarty the Patriot Masterlist)

Albert is not really delusional, he falls more under manipulative. Of course he has to be a tad delusional to believe what he is doing is the lesser of two evils, it may be painful for her but it’s for the best. Her parents were horrible people and even if he let them live after marrying their daughter, she would still have to deal with their presence in her life and not to mention her little sister who is still in their custody until she finds a suitable match, and besides outside of how they treated their daughters their behavior was still very much unforgivable, an abuse of power, so it was only natural that they were taken care of.

He knows his darling would rather be with someone else from the day they were engaged and he is not going to force her to love him, not in the slightest. He makes her life comfortable and makes sure she is well provided for so at least they can be friends in their marriage, he will still maintain his attraction to her but will not act on it anymore than he has already since he knows how straining this must be on her mind. Now at the time comfortable marriages could still be happy, after all there are certainly worse circumstances to find yourself in, so she would eventually settle into her marriage with her husband, at least he is a good and honest man, that’s the least she could ask…

Well that’s what she thought…

Soon enough the blindfold is ripped off and her kind husband who she was content with unintentionally revealed his true colors…

It started with the strange behavior towards her asking about her parents death…

Then the changes around the house with the partners of her brothers in law, the locks on the door, the feeling of constantly being watched, but Albert never stopped behaving the way he always did as if nothing was wrong to keep her from paying much mind to the things happening around them…

Then it was the realization from the truths from the other two darlings of who her husband really was, and her whole reality shattered…

The man she laid in the same bed as, who she was content with, became a murderer, one of the faces of the Lord of Crime.

Meanwhile Albert thought she would never would run now, he thought she wants content with him like she had been but when she runs that small delusion shattered and reality was in full swing.

While he does isolate her after catching her, that does not mean he treats her badly, he will behave the same because the reality was already straining her and the isolation from anyone else but him was enough punishment to teach her from flying away again.

He does not expect her to love him or like him but the transition of her being happy enough with him to despising him was difficult, it felt like whiplash. Her behavior puts them both on edge and after her lashing out at him he cracks, revealing more of his true colors. After that incident he may be a bit colder to her as if that was the last straw in a way, distancing himself as a punishment because she is already isolated from everyone not in the house, the outside world, of course he never hurt her again unless she lashes out first.

When one method of manipulation fails with him being kind and gentle to her and keeping her blind from what he has done, he switches tactics to being cold and distant from her, letting the tension build up until she comes crawling back to him.

[bethanydelleman]

Was marriage as bad as it sounds during Jane Austen's time? From what I've heard, a woman with the means to stay single would be stupid to want marriage. They were considered property and lost any semblance of independence. Unless you really trust the guy and loved them, it seems like a horrible gamble.

A show made a joke about her being a lesbian because she never got married, which I didn't know. It just confuses me because she wrote so many romance books. I'm wondering if she wrote that way because marriage was purely a practical decision and she was a lesbian or asexual, or if marriage was just a horrible decision altogether.

That joke really rubs me the wrong way, especially in an era where man where scarce because they were fighting Napoleon! Not that there is anything wrong with being queer, but just because a woman with very little fortune didn't manage to marry doesn't mean she didn't want to.

It seems to be pretty well documented that Jane Austen loved/liked at least two men, Tom LeFroy and an unnamed clergyman, but neither proposed. The only man who did propose, Jane Austen decided against.

As for marriage in general, I am sure most marriages were nothing special but fine. I mean, a lot of people especially in the gentry class are marrying for wealth and rank and hoping they also like the person. Freakenomics talked about an analysis that showed most couples in the aristocracy just stopped having kids after the heir and the spare, except during one period where many members of the nobility married "down". Those couples kept having kids, probably because they actually loved each other. Which says a lot about the average upper class marriage.

People would also think about marriage differently than we would today in Western countries. I don't think anyone goes into marriage like Charlotte Lucas, because we don't have to. Women can get their own jobs and, while stigma has not been erased, staying single is no longer a huge taboo. But Charlotte and probably many other women went in knowing that neither side was in love, they were signing up for a roommate with procreation benefits. So if you husband did stray you might not even mind (as long as he didn't bring home any diseases and was discreet).

Most marriages we see in Jane Austen are fine, but not a huge romance. Take Sir John and Lady Middleton, they get along fine but have nothing in common. Clearly they have sex (4 children), but Sir John is getting companionship from other people, like Mrs. Jennings who he actually gets along with great. So they are both making it work and not expecting that their marriage partner will be everything to them. We also see marriages in Jane Austen where the woman is clearly in control (Fanny Dashwood).

Now the problem with Regency society and societies today that make divorce very difficult is not that suddenly all men are abusive, but that women (and men) have an extremely difficult time getting out of bad marriages. There is still divorce stigma of course, and even within Canada it matters how religious your family is, but the average person would not tell an abused partner to just stay to preserve their family dignity (I hope).

Throughout all of human history, let's say roughly 20% of marriages are great, 60% are fine/mediocre (nothing to write home about but your sex roommate is pretty chill), and 20% were bad. I don't think you can ever change the % that are bad, but what you can change is how easily people can escape from that bad situation. No fault divorce, abuse shelters, understanding family/friends, women being able to work, and birth control all help people to get out of abusive situations.

Also, even though a married woman lost some legal rights, it wasn't like she had a lot to begin with. A woman basically goes from the control of her father to the control of a husband. Married women didn't require chaperones so they probably on average had more freedom of movement than single women. In both Wives & Daughters (Elizabeth Gaskell) and Lady Susan (Jane Austen), married women travel to London solo during the season. An unmarried woman could not do that!

In Austen's novels, it's pretty clear the best possible position for a woman was rich widow. There you have freedom of movement, your own money, and social acceptability. And as for not marrying, even rich women like Caroline Bingley and Mary Crawford are trying to marry, not attempting to stay single. The social cost of spinsterhood was just too high.

Oh, and for a fascinating dive into lower class marriages, check out The Five, either the podcast or the book. Really great read.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for being jealous of my partner?

A little bit of context before we start- back in the day, my dad was a very popular musician. He performed his last event with his friends when I was in middle school. The event has become very famous in our community and a lot of groups, including mine, are working towards holding an event which will surpass it.

I (16F, 14 when this started) am in a group with A (16M), T(16M) and K (16F). K has been my singing partner for about two years now and I've never been happier! She's extremely talented and it's always a blast performing with her. She's a newcomer in the street music scene, so she's always worked super hard to catch up to the rest of us.

A couple years back, before her last solo event, she was given some advice by a guy who turned out to be one of my dad's friends- one of the same people who hosted the event with him. After she was done with her event, he decided to tutor her, which made me super proud! But I just couldn't shake off this weird feeling. I've always been told that I'll be the one to surpass this event since I am my father's daughter, and seeing that a member of that legendary trio decided to tutor my friend instead of me kind of hurt. I feel horrible about this. AITA?