#the other family? the young woman's father is a doctor

[lunarcrossingart]

"….Okay, are any of the dishes not poisoned?! Is there anyone at this feast who did not poison anything?!"

The chairman slammed his hands on the table while his friend next to him learned how to count the amount of halos she'll have. (Hint: Zero; she poisoned the chicken and politely told him ahead of time.) Among his friend, there were  several other esteemed personnel who laid slack on their plates. Their faces in various shades of blue and purple while others twiddle their fingers inconspicuously. Wait, no, the shipper looked absolutely smug as she pushed the taxman out of his chair.

With the thick silence, the chairman pulled himself upright, and sighed in disappointment. He adjusted his glasses and looked at a nearby attendant. Who was also avoiding his gaze.

"I'm going to assume you aren't going to call a doctor?" He sneered with strain in his voice. The vague threat worked as the attendant apologized and rushed off past the double doors. The guards also lacked vigor for the situation too, but there's only so many people the chairman could grill.

"Um, Chairman Matar?" His head swivels to the kind Olivia. The mousy old woman held a hand up gingerly and recoiled it once she had the chairman's attention. "I actually didn't poison any of the food."

The relief of his scowl was instant as he beamed to her.

"My dear Olivia, I knew you wouldn't poison a soul-" "No. I did." She smiled contently. "I poisoned the King directly, actually."

"What."

At that moment, everyone's focus was on the royal family. The King and the young Prince stood still, as if in disbelief. The Prince looked to his father, who kept his eyes wide and breath held.

"Father-?" The young adult asked as he pushed up from his chair. The King kept still. The Prince then gingerly touched the back of his father's chair, and there was a twinge inside of him when the King's back didn't react to his touch.

That twinge turned into a wide smile as the Prince tipped the chair over. The king and the crown unceremoniously crashed into the ground. The Prince let out a high pitch laugh and swiveled his elated gaze back to Olivia. "He's dead!"

The table broke out into a joyous laughter and the chairman lived up to his name by slumping back into his seat. The tyrant King and a few of his cabinet had fallen to their hands. To everyone's individual plans becoming one big mess of a plan!

The chairman held up his glass of wine and boomed over the crowd. "Let us drink this momentous occasion!"

Those gathered around the table cheered and took a healthy gulp of their glasses. Only when the liquid slid down their throats did their minds catch up to them. Everyone looked at the chairman as if he had sentenced them to death. Only to find the same troubled look as he swallowed down his portion of the dark wine.

He cleared his throat a few times and smiled sheepishly, "D-does anyone know if that was poisoned or not?"

"….Okay, are any of the dishes not poisoned?! Is there anyone at this feast who did not poison anything?!"

[karin-gespenst]

disabled children and their parents - part 1

this post will be about babies born with disabilities, and part 2 will be about Susan Mullocks.

Call the Midwife has quite a number of families that are surprised to learn that their newborn has something going on that will make their lives different. Understandably they go through shock and adjustment periods and have to face difficult decisions. We will take a look at some examples in the third part of this post.

In a few cases the parents know before birth that there could be something that endangers their babies life and/or wellbeing.

One of the cases where the parents worry because of an older sibling who has a problem is the Sands family with Elaine. The girl shows symptoms of delayed development and starts having fits, due to phenylketonuria. Fortunately her baby sibling is fine. Elaine will need a special diet all her life to manage her condition and it is unclear how much she will be able to catch up on development. Both her parents are educated by medical staff and do their best. s10e5

Another family who has health concerns is the Aidoo family: first diagnosed in expecting mother Flora, they learn that her son and husband also have sickle cell disease. With both parents afflicted, it's a big concern that their newborn could also have it. Knowing what it is that will make their own and their children's lives harder, the family adjusts with the help of the Nonnatuns. Sickle cell disease remains a huge challenge for families and the health care providers worldwide - one thing people anywhere can do to help is sign up as a stem cell donor and maybe one day donate healthy blood stem cells to a patient. s8e2

In one case it was the grandmother who worried, because she knew about the family history with haemophilia. Hoping her daughter, Lorna Pryce, would have a baby girl, she did not mention that her husband died of the blood disorder. When the baby boy is born, it becomes apparent quickly that something is not working well and he needs hospital care in his first days of life. Probably not for the last time. His grandmother's experience may be helpful in managing his condition. s12e3

Kinda worried: The Reed family. Achondroplasia is making some things a challenge for Peggy and Derek Reed. The doctors fear that the baby they are expecting is going to have the condition as well - which would be likely, and the parents know what life would bring for their child. The other worry is that the child may not live, which would be very hard to bear. In the end the child is well and of regular size for a newborn. The new worry of her parents is that she will outgrow them soon - and they will indeed have to make adjustments again and again, like all parents have to. s6e3

Very clear example of a couple who has plenty of reasons to be anxious: another father called Derek, who has served in the army and was exposed to radiation during his time, is suffering even years after. What he did not expect is that the radiation poisoning would affect his children. When his wife Audrey gives birth, their son Christopher only lives for a few hours. Christopher's body did not develop in a way that made survival possible. The damage his father had endured on a genetic level caused Christopher's legs to be only half formed and more anomalies less visible caused his death. A deep shock for his parents. s10e1

A year later, after collecting information about similiar cases, Audrey is pregnant again. They trust the Nonnatuns to help again with the birth, but their fear that the new baby might also have problems is throwing a shadow over their excitement. Luckily their baby girl is well and lives. s11e1

Another example from an earlier season: (s3e5) in this episode mainly the baby's grandparents and the medical staff are worried that it might have a genetical condition: Sally Harper, a young woman with Down's syndrome, is pregnant. The baby's father, Sally's boyfriend Jacob who also lives in St. Gideon's, wants to marry her but is refused because he has a disability, too. Their baby is born too early and does not survive. We do not learn if it had Down's Syndrome. Sally and Jacob are separated, her parents would rather forget about everything. Jacob is sent to a different institution and does not get to say goodbye to Sally or to their child.

let's stay a while on the topic of babies who die from their disabilities.

Irene and Pat Kelly are devastated when their newborn son dies suddenly. Later they learn that he had a problem with his lungs, they were not developed fully and that cut his life very short. There was no sign of a problem right after his birth, and there was nothing that could have been done to help him. The Kelly's can only grieve. s2e2

Valerie's cousin Maureen gives birth to her third child, Warren. At first everything looks fine, then she notices that her son is unusually floppy and quiet. Dr Turner finds symptoms that point to a problem with his heart, and the diagnosis later is that the baby was exposed to german measles in utero. Several problems make it unlikely that he will live long, and his parents are shocked and sad. Then they decide to care for him at home to make his life as comfortable and happy as they can. Maureen attempts to help her older children to cope with the situation and form a bond with their baby brother. Warren dies quietly while his parents and siblings are sleeping close by. This way the family was able to say goodbye in a way they could bear. s9e6

Ruby Cottingham, proud mother of a bunch of boys, is pregnant again and hopes she'll get a girl. She has a difficult labor and needs a C-section, and the doctor is taken aback when he sees that the child is missing all limbs and other body parts. The hospital staff never lets Ruby see her baby, they decide to put the newborn in a side room and let the child die instead of trying to find out how to help. Sister Julienne finds and holds the baby while it is passing away. She is speaking up against a cruel decision, and later delivering the horrible news to Ruby. In the months after Ruby is dealing with her pain mostly alone and when she learns why her child died it is of no comfort. Thalidomide damaged her baby and she lost her child because some complete strangers did not do their work properly and sold dangerous medication. s5e4

Of the parents with disabled babies who lived there are some who will grow up just fine because their problem can be fixed with surgery, medication or other treatments. We'll look at them towards the end of this post. On the other hand, some children will be unwell all their lives and not grow as old as their peers.

Merle and Billy Vickers have two sons with the same puzzling poor health symptoms, and the little one is only saved from choking because his mother ran with him to get help at Nonnatus house. Sister Monica Joans insistence that Dr Turner look into an old textbook that describes their illness helps find the diagnosis "cystic fibrosis" and the treatment that will make the two boys' lives easier. With artificial enzymes they can have less side effects, but they will never be completely fine. s3e1

A newborn with a broken bone needs very careful handling. When Janice and Ray Prendergast have their first baby, Raymond, Sister Julienne discovers two broken bones within a very short time. Afraid that the boy has been assaulted, Dr Turner decides to take him away from his parents and into foster care. When the foster mother brings the baby in with another fracture, it becomes apparent that Raymond has osteogenesis imperfecta, and is therefore likely to suffer more broken bones. Extremely careful handling will protect him somewhat, but his life will be very challenging. s4e5

Two families, Shirley and Ian Dent and Marion and Godfrey Smith, are faced with a predicament like few others: their babies were muddled in the maternity home and each family took home the wrong child. One of the girls, Deborah, has a heart problem and will need surgery to survive. The parents are shocked and worried, and then they learn that the baby they have been caring for is not their own but the daughter of their aquaintances. They suddenly have the option of giving up the responsibility for Deborah. But it is not that easy. They have formed a bond with the sick child and cannot imagine just swapping her for another baby, not even their biological child, Jackie. The question how each family will go forward is unresolved, and we don't know if the risky surgery went well and the girl was fine. s4e7

Also unclear what became of the youngest child in the Lund family. The mother and older sister have Huntington's disease and will suffer increasingly from nerve damage. The hereditary condition could also be present in the baby, with no option of diagnosis as long as there are no symptoms. s7e3

Let's move on to more cheerful stories, shall we?

Remember Kirk? Youngest of six children, born with a cleft lip and cleft palate. Very inconvenient when your only job is sleeping and nursing. Milk gets into the airways and pneumonia will creep in, it's a nightmare. Now his mom Betty is usually a very competent and energetic woman. But with five other children demanding her attention and no husband at home because those sailors tend to sail away all the time, Betty feels she cannot give Kirk the care he needs. Adoption is considered. Until Valerie swoops in, sweeps the school children out the door, smack-talks the oldest boy into taking appropriate responsibility and gives Betty a hand with some of the chores. Kirk has his first surgery, his dad comes home, there's applause and a few years later he gets to be a flower child at Lucille's wedding. s8e3

Also in hospital with some complicated treatment: Clover, daughter of Clover, who now wants to be called Susan again. While the young woman wanted to give birth as naturally as possible, her baby needed immediate intervention because she was born with gastroschisis. Shelagh saves the day with some excellent staying calm skills, and the staff at the children's hospital find a way to put Clover's organs back where they belong. Susan reconciling with her father will also help Clover grow up safe and healthy. s13e2

I did not know that it is possible for a baby to be born with cancer. But apparently it happens often enough to have a name, this quite unlucky genetical mishap. Retinoblastoma. Both of Lindy Webster's girls have it and need treatment. They will be fine. The older girl will have just the one eye, but that's okay. Compared to other parents the Webster family is actually chill and will get through this. s13e5

Stefanie Baxter will be fine, too. More than that, probably, because her hip dysplasia is actually not that rare, the treatment is effective and she will have little long term problems. At first her mom Gillian was out of her depth, learning how to carry and care for a baby that needs to be in a harness and held in a certain way. Her husband Liam helps, as does Phyllis, who was the first to notice Stefanie's problem. Being carried in a baby wrap will help keep her legs in the right position and that is a really cosy way to take your newborn places or calm it down. s13e2

Of all the parents who are surprised by a baby with a disability, the Dellow family has the most happy outcome in my view. Blanche had planned to give her newborn to her childless sister, because her older children are already grown. When baby Robert arrives, he gets the diagnosis of Down's syndrome, and his aunt does not want to become his mother anymore. Blanche meanwhile calmly gets to know the little guy, is appaled by her sister's attitude and decides to keep him. Her husband initially finds it hard to deal with, but a conversation with Fred Buckle about Reggie changes his view. Violet even thanks Blanche for giving her the chance to glimpse a part of Reggie's past, because she never knew him as a baby. A couple of years later Robert is best friends with Reggie and they have the best time. 10e7

I'll close part 1 and wander on to write part 2 with the lovely line from Susan's second episode:

"Children must be loved. There is no rule in life so simple, or so true."

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Princess & The Pilot

In which Lando Norris meets his childhood crush, who just happens to be an actual princess.

Warnings: none Pairing: Lando Norris x BritishPrincess!Reader Word Count: 3.5k or something

(quick note: running late for a meeting this morning but wanted to get this out. I'll update the tag list later tonight when/if I have time. Enjoy the new seriesssss!)

Master List

There must be a foreign power invading London. 

That is the only reason you can think that your assistant would be waking you up at 8am the morning after you spent nearly 12 hours entertaining Argentinian foreign dignitaries with your father yesterday. When you had tumbled into bed at 2am after the state dinner the previous night, the last words you had mumbled to Noelle were ‘please don’t wake me up before noon tomorrow.’ 

This was supposed to be your one day off after attending engagements with your parents four days in a row. 

“I’m so sorry, your highness.” Noelle whispers from where she stands at the foot of her bed. You immediately wonder if the palace groundskeepers would be willing to install a set of locks on the doors to your apartments that only you had the keys to. 

“Noelle, you’ve been my assistant for how many years now? You can call me by my first name.” You grumble from under the thick cream duvet that you had tugged over your head moments before. 

You glare at Noelle but immediately regret it when you see the anxious look on the older woman’s face. This wasn’t her choice, you realized. “What does my father want now?” 

Noelle worries at the corner of her lip before holding out her cell phone. “He’s been trying to reach you for an hour now. Insisted I come wake you up.” 

“He’s been unable to reach me because he swore up and down last night that I’d get today off from anything family related.” You complain, unable to keep the whine out of your voice.  

Tossing off the covers, you swing your legs over the side of your king sized bed before reaching out to take Noelle’s phone from her. You can see the active call ticking away with your father’s name on the caller ID ‘HRH King Edward’ 

“Good morning Papa.” You expertly adjust your tone, knowing that if your father hears one single hint of grouchiness in your voice you’ll never hear the end of it. “Everything okay?” 

“Your brother is sick.” His tone is brisk and you try to tell yourself he doesn’t mean to be short with you. He is literally the King of England after all. You’re sure he’s got a few things on his mind beyond worrying about waking his youngest child up at the crack of dawn. 

“Does he need me to bring him something? Soup? Medicine?” 

Your father scoffs on the other end of the line. “Don’t be silly.” He scolds. “My doctor has already been in to see him this morning. It’s just the flu, but he is contagious.” 

You’re silent on your end of the phone, knowing there is more to come as the news of your older brother being sick didn’t really warrant an early morning phone call. 

“I need you to take over the engagement he was going to do today.” 

It takes every ounce of royal training for you not to groan. You’d been attending events and engagements all weekend long, standing in for your mother who also was sick with the flu. “Can’t Mike do it?” 

Your youngest brother Michael was in his final year at Oxford before he’d go on to do the requisite military training but he was still able to engagements here and there. 

“Michael has exams this week, so he is unavailable.” 

You nearly suggest your sister-in-law Charlotte take her husbands place but know that would also be turned down as she’s been busy with her new well baby charity and juggling having two young children at home as well. The weight of the expectations of being the second eldest child of the King of England hangs heavy on your shoulders as the sunlight pours in through the curtains Noelle has drawn back. It’s a gorgeous spring day in London, which you know is rare this time of year. You had been planning on spending the day out on the private gardens that are tucked away in a hidden part of the palace not open to tourists reading a book in the quiet. 

“What’s the engagement then?” You sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that once again, your family duties were coming before your own personal agenda. 

You tried so hard not to be resentful of the weight of who you were and most of the time, you were fine with your station in life. You lived a very privileged, if not somewhat regimented and controlled, life as the only daughter to King Edward and Queen Matilde of the United Kingdom. Your parents, while busy with their own lives and duties, adored you and your two brothers, Sebastian and Michael. They had worked hard when you were younger to make sure that you and your siblings were raised as normally as possible, which hadn’t always been easy. 

“You’ll be going out to the Silverstone Circuit in Towcester to meet with some people from the McLaren Formula 1 team. They're the Duke of Dover Awards newest partner and their drivers are doing some laps the track with children from the local schools. They’d like to take you on the track too.” 

Your brother had started the Duke of Dover Awards when he had married Charlotte 10 years ago and had inherited the title as the heir to the throne. The foundation awarded hundreds of thousands of pounds each year to kids and teenagers that applied to be recipients of grants to improve their communities, start small businesses, and conduct scientific research. It was your brother’s brainchild and baby and you were shocked that Sebastian had agreed to allow anyone that wasn’t him to go near an event of theirs. 

Sighing, you stand and shrug on the silk robe that was hanging form the little hook next to your bed. You were certainly not getting a day off today, now were you? “Okay, sounds straight forward enough. Does Noelle have the details?” 

“Yes, Noelle has everything you’ll need. Thank you for helping, little dove.” 

Your heart squeezes as the nickname your father has used since you were a toddler. You knew he carried a heavy weight with the crown on his head and expected nothing but the best from himself, and by extension you and your siblings, at all times because of it. He meant well and loved you fiercely, you knew that but sometimes it got lost in the legacy of what it meant to be a Windsor. 

“Of course, Papa.” 

You hang up and hand the phone back to your assistant. “Papa says you have all the details. Could you have everything printed out so I can read it in the car. Towcester is quite far away, isn’t it?” 

“About an hour and a half, if traffic is good.” 

You nod, mind jumping into preparation mode. The timeline that had landed in your inbox while you had been on the phone with your father said you needed to be there a little after 1pm, which gave you enough time to get ready. “Can you call Tibby, give her the details and have her pull some outfits for me? I can do my own makeup and I don’t think I’ll need anything fancy for hair, yeah?” 

Noelle nods, eyes skimming her emails. “Your brother’s valet says he was planning on wearing jeans and a jumper, so it sounds casual. Natural makeup and a sporty ponytail, maybe?” 

“That’s fine, I can do that myself.” Sometimes it chafed at you how much had to go into your appearance. You could never really go out looking sloppy or unkempt because the bad press that it inevitably invited drove your mother crazy. If your father was preoccupied with the weight of his crown, your mother was preoccupied with the weight of what her image meant to millions of people. It was a difficult relationship to navigate and you didn’t always do a good job, so you tried to maintain at least the minimum appearance standards your mother requested just to appease her. 

Noelle snaps into action, calling Sebastian’s valet to get some more details on the people that will be present along with any other notes he had thought important. You pad towards your private bathroom to take a shower and get ready for what you assumed would be another routine royal engagement. 

And boy, how wrong you were. 

“Are you nervous?” Oscar mutters as he comes to lean against the counter in the garage next to where Lando stands, scrolling on his phone.

Lando looks up, confusion knitting his brows together. “Nervous for what?” 

As far as he knew, this was just going to be another routine event with some kids and the Duke of Dover, who he'd already met last year during the race at Silverstone. Nothing to be nervous about really.

“To meet the princess!” Oscar chuckles, knocking his shoulder into Lando's.

“Princess?" The crease on his forehead deepens even more. "I thought it was the Duke that was coming. Isn’t it his awards thing that we're partnering with?” 

Oscar shrugs. “Zak said the Duke is sick. His sister is coming instead. Apparently she just pulled in as well. Sophie is running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. Something about not being prepared for her."  

Oh. A thick sense of anxiety settles in the pit of Lando's stomach. Oh fuck. This changed things. He certainly hadn't been nervous before but now he was, knowing that it was you that he'd be driving around the track instead of your brother.

Like most guys his age, Lando had grown up with photos of you taped to the back of his door and indulged in several...interesting and not very polite fantasies when he was in his teens. In fact, now that Lando thinks about it, you were probably his very first crush. You had been the first princess to be born into the Royal family in two generations and the press had fallen in love with you the day you were born, dubbing you the English Rose that was going to save the monarchy.

Once you reached your 18th birthday and debuted into society, taking your place beside your older brother and parents by working for the family full time while going to university to study international business, the country had fallen even more in love with you. Your family was well loved by the entirety of the Common Wealth but you? You were absolutely everyone's favorite Windsor by a country mile. And that included the British Formula One driver.

"You okay, mate?" Oscar's thick accent shakes Lando out of his day dream.

"Oh, yeah." Lando replies weakly, rubbing the palm of his hand over his jaw, glad he had shaved this morning and put a bit of extra care into his hair.

"Boys!" Sophie, McLaren's head of Public Relations, yells at the entrance of the garage, fists on her hips as she taps her toe glaring at the pair. "The princess is here and everyone is waiting on you."

"Coming." Lando mumbles, desperately trying to tamp down the nerves that are making his stomach do somersaults. This is like a teenage wet dream come true.

Just outside the garage is a group of people clustered around several McLaren sports cars waiting to get started. Lando can see Zak chatting with you from 50 meters away and he loses all ability to think straight when he sees you in person for the first time. You're dressed in dark wash jeans that hug your curves and, much to Lando's surprise, a papaya colored knit jumper. With your hair pulled back in a high ponytail, your delicate features on full display. He couldn't help thinking how much better you looked in real life compared to the glossy magazine photos he used to keep tacked up to his bedroom wall.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Lando, Oscar, and Sophie approaching before Zak does but you don't allow the group to distract you from your conversation with McLaren's CEO. That kind of behavior would send your mother into a tailspin. She hadn't sent you off to boarding school at the age of 12 for nothing after all. But you can't help how your stomach twists when you lock eyes with the boy with the curly hair. A nervous ghost of a smile plays at the corner of his full lips, sending goosebumps exploding over your skin.

"Oh, there they are!" Zak finally notices the drivers and Sophie and moves to introduce everyone. Behind you, Noelle hovers, lying in wait to correct anyone who might break royal protocol when it comes to interacting with you. You desperately wish she would've let you come alone.

Introductions are made and you try your hardest to ignore the way your skin sparks when you shake hands with Lando. Zak explains how the afternoon is going to go and that Lando is going to take you around the track on a hot lap while Oscar and a few other reserve McLaren drivers take the kids out behind.

"Nervous, your highness?" Lando asks as he checks the chin strap on your crash helmet.

The way your stomach dips when he smiles at you has nothing to do with nerves.

"You're about to whip me around this race track at speeds that could kill me, I think you can call me by my first name, Lando." You tease, deflecting the real reason your palms are sweating.

Lando blushes, eyes falling to the ground. "I guess that's true. Just didn't want your lady in waiting to tackle me for committing some protocol crime, I guess."

The laugh that escapes you would send your mother into a complete fit it's so sudden and loud. "She does look like she's lying in wait, doesn't she?" Your eyes dart above Lando's shoulder where Noelle stands, eyes trained on you as if she's expecting someone to attack at any moment.

"She's just a little...protective." You say, voice going soft. "Last year we had a little incident where I was being stalked for several months. The guy thought we were engaged and he somehow managed to get around my protection officers and into my building at 3 in the morning. They caught him outside my door with duct tape, rope and a knife in his bag."

Your eyes go wide with horror as you realize what you've just said. No one in the public knew about that, your parents had insisted on keeping the investigation quiet. The man had been sent to a psychiatric facility with the blessing of his family and charges hadn't been filed in order to protect your privacy. You had no idea why you had just spilled one of your most closely kept secrets to a veritable stranger.

"Well then I'm glad she's here to watch over you." Lando's voice is quiet, like he knows you don't want others overhearing this conversation. "I'd hate to think of anything happening to such a pretty girl."

For several moments, the busy pitlane falls away a bit as Lando's hands remain on the straps of your helmet and he looks at you like he's known you for your entire life. You're used to people staring at you and being under the microscope but the way Lando looks at you makes you want to squirm in the most delicious way possible.

"Okay, you two!" Zak booms, shocking you out of the little bubble that had grown around you and Lando those few moments. "Lets get you out on the track. Lando, please remember this is a member of the royal family, I'd rather not have to leave the country if you injure her."

"What kind of knight in shining armor would I be if I hurt the princess in my charge?" Lando quips, aiming a wink your way before rounding the hood of the low slung papaya colored McLaren.

You can't help the way you snort in response to his flirting, it's so ridiculous but you also can't ignore the way your stomach twists in delight at the way Lando's tongue works around the word princess while he looks at you.

You had to be careful though. Despite Lando being famous and well off in his own right, you were even a step above that and life had taught you that even the most well connected and rich men saw you as the ultimate prize. Who wouldn't want to marry the only daughter to the King of England, even if they had billions. You can't buy a real royal pedigree. Not like the one you had, dating back generations on both sides of your family.

No, you couldn't allow yourself the luxury of lowered walls but you could allow yourself to indulge in a little innocent flirting, because that's all it would ever or could ever be with Lando Norris.

"Zak, can I file a workplace injury claim if I've gone deaf this afternoon from her screeching?" Lando complained as he held out a hand to help you out of the McLaren 45 minutes later.

"I have no idea what you're talking about! Princesses don't screech." You sniff, smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as you yank your hand out of his grasp the moment you're steady on your feet.

Lando snorts now, rolling his eyes, enjoying the color that flushes in high on your cheekbones. He was the one to make you blush like that and it sends a zing of arousal straight to his cock. While you had been in the car with Lando, before he had scared the daylights out of you, he'd been able to overcome the initial nerves of meeting his boyhood crush and had settled into a flirty conversation. The way you two bantered back and forth so naturally was new to Lando and kind of unnerving to him, but in a good way.

"I'm inclined to believe if the princess was driven to 'screech' that it was all your fault, Lando." Zak jokes with a shrug before turning to you. "Thank you so much for coming out this afternoon and filling in for your brother. We got some great shots of you guys on the track and before with everyone together."

You nod, smiling at the group that's now gathered. Beside you, Lando has wiggled his way between Noelle and yourself so he's settled in at your side. "Wonderful. I'm sure they'll be the perfect content you guys all need. Is there anything else you need from me today? Did all the kids get laps on the track and the merch bags?"

Sophie nods, "Yes ma'am, no one left empty handed."

You sigh internally knowing that the day is almost over. You can taste the freedom of the back seat of the Range Rover where you can finally let your mask down for a few extra moments. You loved days like this, busy and filled with lost of interaction with the public but it was also exhausting beyond measure. You knew you'd sleep well tonight, having attended events nearly every night for the past 9 days.

"Good, thank you." Your eyes find the McLaren CEO who stands across from you. "Zak, I assume we'll see you at the awards gala Saturday night?"

Zak nods, "Yes, Oscar and I will be there."

You can't help the bit of disappointment that blooms in your chest when he doesn't say Lando's name. You hate it and ignore it the best you can because it simply isn't acceptable. So instead you lean on your years of training and upbringing to hide your true feelings. "Lovely, I can't wait to see you both again."

As Lando watches your car pull away, he can't help but feel a little disappointed that your time together is up.

"What awards gala was she talking about? Why wasn't I invited? Lando practically whines, turning to Zak once the Range Rover is out of sight.

Zak chuckles "You were invited Norris and you turned it down because, and I quote, 'you don't do boring awards dinners that aren't written into your contract'."

Lando kicks at a rock with his sneaker, feeling a bit foolish. "Well, I guess I'm just going to have to make an exception for this one then."

Zak narrows his eyes, not liking where he thinks Lando's head is going. "Listen Norris, I know your personal life is none of my business."

"And you'd be right in that assesment, Zak." Lando responds cooly.

Zak holds his hand up, "But I'd be remiss if I didn't remind you that whatever I think is going on in your head about the woman that just left the track is probably a bad idea. A princess like her is not able to have a casual relationship like the ones your used to. Just..." Zak pauses, trying to put his advice in the best words possible. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Message recieved loud and clear, Zak." Lando mutters before turning and walking back towards the garages.

[cupcakeslushie]

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Here’s the next part of the Kendratello AU! I knew it was going to be very dialogue heavy, so I figured writing it out would be fast, but I’m so ready to be done with it that I’ve not really beta read it. So I apologize for any errors. But enjoy!

Splinter loves his sons, but these last few days have been eating away at his already shriveled and fraying nerves. Watching his children ambling around their home, for months, each in varying states of anxiety, fear, and distress, hasn’t been easy on his old heart.

They’ve been through so much, experienced more hardships than Splinter has ever wanted for them. But the latest crucible tearing his family apart was caused, not by some ancient demon, or world-ending threat—but a fiendishly smart, young woman.

One who’d kidnapped his son and replaced him with a stranger that Splinter hardly recognized.

The bitter tale is too familiar for the old movie star to painlessly swallow. It seems fate played such cruel tricks sometimes. Always seeming to strike harsher the second go around. With outcomes even more brutal and painful. His son was stolen by a hateful, sadistic woman, and kept locked away, until she was satisfied with the new toy that emerged from the shadows.

So it stands to reason how…relieved Splinter had been that one, early morning. When his three sons had pulled Purple into his bedroom, piling into his bed, nothing but wide eyes and panicked shouting; one over the other. Looking back now, he can recognize how short-sighted his quick relief had been. But in the moment, as a father, Splinter had only seen this new, strange development as a blessing.

Donatello might have been confused, and irritated with his brother’s manhandling, but Splinter could clearly see more life in those eyes than he’d witnessed in months. Splinter had shushed the rest, and spoken to Purple directly, finally getting a better grasp on what his sons were shouting about.

Amnesia.

So, of course, relief. Because how could forgetting all those horrible, tortuous weeks in that woman’s grasp, possibly be a bad thing? By some miracle, Splinter’s boy had been returned to him. Nowhere near that frail ghost of Donatello, which Splinter would sometimes find curled up on the floor of his own lab, screaming Kendra’s name and sobbing to be returned to her care.

He had been spared all of that, like it never happened. Their family had been handed a gift, and Splinter truthfully wasn't interested in the whys of it all…

Until Michelangelo chose to contact Draxum, and words like “brain damage” and “tumor” were thrown into the mix.

An entire day of testing yielded…varying results. They were able to rule out the scariest of options. No dark shadows were seen in the X-rays of his son’s beautifully brilliant brain, and no concerning squiggles were pointed out by the Hidden City doctors who studied the fast moving waves appearing on the EEG. It was all a bunch of nonsense to Splinter, but Donatello nodded like he agreed, when he was handed the papers over to inspect himself.

Everything was normal, physically.

That left the most difficult part of the day. Getting his son to speak to a psychiatrist—seriously, and without snarking back at every possible question he would eventually be asked.

Draxum had thankfully picked a good one. Briefing her beforehand on…everything. She seemed prepared for Purple’s special brand of cynicism. The sheep yokai was apparently at the top of her field.

A tentative diagnosis of “dissociative amnesia” had been given, along with a small number of pamphlets and printouts. The doctor had informed Splinter that certain treatments might improve Donatello’s situation, but no cure had been discovered for something like this.

They would just have to take things one day at a time. And they’d been doing so well. Almost like everything was back to normal.

Splinter had become very good at ignoring that pending feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He smiled at his sons every day onward, like nothing was wrong. And all of them, in return, began falling back into a more comfortable ease around each other. The stress had just been starting to loosen in Red’s shoulders and jaw. Orange was giving real, honest smiles again. And Blue was no longer a shadow around corners, hiding from Purple like a bomb he was scared to set off.

But the other shoe that had been the root of Splinter’s dread, finally dropped, and the rug was pulled from under their feet once more, violently, with no warning.

Even after they’d managed to calm Donatello down. There was no negotiating the terms of his reality, and he was stubbornly convinced that the world around him was fabricated. Without caring about the consequences, he refused to be civil towards any of them, treating them all like jesters in a play, where no one had the script.

The family’s usual process for dealing with Purple’s anger–letting him cool off alone in his lab until he collected his thoughts–was unfeasible this time around.

Splinter didn’t think he could ever forget the image of his son, turning the knife he held in his hands inwards, and threatening to end his own life.

No; leaving him alone was not an option.

Which led back to Splinter’s previously mentioned frayed nerves.

Four days into this new, stressful change, and his genius son was still managing to find creative ways to sneak past their watchful eyes. Six attempts, in total. Each time, caught with seconds to spare, and just as traumatic for everyone involved.

Raphael and Michelangelo at the moment, were going through their home, removing every sharp implement they could find. Anything that could possibly be used to “put an end to the loop” that Donatello was convinced he was stuck in.

While the two performed their important task, Blue and Splinter had the harder of the two jobs; watching Purple.

Splinter was currently sitting comfortably in his chair, but it was far from his usual level of relaxation. Despite plenty of bean bags to occupy, the twins were locked in a shoving match. For some reason, they were fighting over the single, smallest one they must’ve owned.

“If you don’t get out of my personal space, I swear to Oppenheimer you will regret it, Leonardo!”

“And I swear to Ryan Renolds, that I’ll shred all of your softest hoodies if you kick me in the nuts one more time!”

“That Barbenheimer joke doesn’t even make sense, you idiot, that was Ryan Gosling!”

“Who mentioned Barbie? I’m talking about Deadpool and Wolverine!”

“What does that movie have to do with anything?!”

“Fuck dude, what did I just say about nut shots!”

“Then get out of my kicking radius, and your non-existent nuts will be safe!”

“BOYS!”

Both his sons quickly pause their arguing, giving their father their undivided attention.

“Leonardo, go help your brothers.” Splinter demands. “I will watch Purple. He has not had a moment of free time from any of you in days, and it is clearly wearing on all of us.” Blue gives his father one of his patented unimpressed stare downs.

“No offense, Pops, but how is you watching him, any different than me?”

“Because I will sit in my chair, and Purple will scroll on his phone, and there will be quiet.” Splinter can’t stand the bickering any longer. He knows both his sons will benefit from this time apart. It’s just convincing Blue of that.

Donatello’s gaze is boring holes into the back of Leonardo’s head while his second oldest son matches Splinter’s scrutiny. The rat can see the need for some fresh air battling against Blue’s desire to stay close. But Leonardo is his sharpest son, and even he can admit that his constant presence has become too grating for his brother.

“You need to watch him like a hawk, Dad,” Leo glares at his twin out of the corner of his gaze, “sometimes you can get a little…distracted.”

The new projector, playing Splinter’s same old programs, flashes against the curtain hung on the wall. The volume is set to low, but Blue still looks pointedly between his father and the screen. Splinter doesn’t blame him for his concern, so he tries to put all the gravity he can into his tone, enough that when he does promise to stay vigilant, it seems to convince Blue to place his trust in him.

Purple stays quiet through the exchange, only breathing a sigh of relief once his brother is long past the threshold of the den. He looks ready to lean back into his hard won pillows, but Splinter realizes that Blue had something of a point. Donatello is positioned quite far from him, and he’s suddenly nervous about catching something in time.

“Purple, how about you come sit with me.” Splinter suggests it kindly but firmly, and with a smile– so his son can’t refuse. He pats the bit of cushion next to his legs, “I will honor my promise to leave you alone, but I would be much more relaxed if you were within my reach.”

His boy merely blinks at him, blank faced, and staring at the very spot that Splinter has just created for him.

It isn’t as though his recliner is small, even if Splinter himself is. Donatello had custom made it for him, after one too many complaints about his old brown one hurting his back. It practically swallows Splinter, but remains just stiff enough to provide plenty of support for his lower back. He could even lay sideways and still have some space to stretch.

Splinter recalls very clear memories of all his sons fighting for a spot by his side when they were younger. But it has been some time since those days…perhaps Donatello thinks he’s far too old for such a thing as sitting by his aging father. Yoshi remembers himself at eighteen, and shudders. He’s forever thankful that no matter how lacking his parenting skills might have been, that his boys are kinder to him than he ever was to his Jiji.

Donatello pulls at some invisible thread of his black leggings. Since this new alteration of his memories, Purple has taken to wearing more layers. It’s nearing fall, but not nearly cold enough for the large sweatshirt, black leggings AND socks that his son is currently donning.

Splinter just barely hears Purple murmur a jumbled, “Huh?”

Splinter catches some sort of emotion actively being suppressed behind the bewildered shock at his offer, but it’s hard to tell what it is. Over the years Splinter is ashamed to say, he has grown very bad at reading his own children. Especially Purple, who, if he was being honest, has always been very hard to decipher.

Splinter starts to think the offer will be rejected, when Purple finally climbs to his feet and ambles slowly over. The unknown emotion skittering at the edge of Donatello’s expression morphs into something closer to suspicion. This one easy to identify, especially when it practically drips from his next words.

“Trying to endear yourself to me won’t sway me into falling for your tricks.”

The barb is said just as unkindly as everything else Purple has thrown at his family these last few days. Splinter lets it slide off him like water. He knows his son would (probably) never speak to him like that if he wasn’t stuck in such a painfully clear mode of survival and uncertainty.

“Yes, yes.” He says, untroubled. “Come sit and I can finally lean my chair back.”

Donatello watches him the entire time as he cautiously settles into his spot. He yelps when Splinter grabs his ankles and pulls his son’s long (thin, still much too thin) legs across his lap. For an instant, Splinter freezes, growing worried he’s overstepped. The act had been done without a thought. It’s the way Purple has always liked to sit, finding it more comfortable than any other way. Donatello preferred to keep his distance. A deviation from his siblings, for sure.

Michelangelo would press as close as possible, two sides smushed together like a hug, only without the constricting limbs (though, if Orange were ever to fall asleep in Splinter’s chair, those too would eventually find their way to catching him in their hold).

Leonardo preferred to sit on the arm of his chair, never staying still for long enough to find a comfortable position. But when he slumbered, after a long night of binge watching Novela’s with Splinter–he would curl up, head in his father’s lap, limbs held tight to his body. Like he was afraid even that was asking for too much.

Raphael, his poor, eldest son, hadn’t sat with him in so long. Splinter could still remember a little turtle tot in red, climbing up and splaying out onto his lap when he needed a good cry–or just a moment of peace from his much too loud siblings. Sadly, it wasn’t long before his Red was too big, and his father too small to provide such a refuge. The last time Raphael needed consoling; after the Krang, Splinter had been forced to climb up onto his own son’s knees in order to reach and wipe away his tears.

In the few rare instances of Purple seeking out physical touch, this was all he would allow. Legs stretched over his father’s lap, but his upper body was always off limits. Pulled just far enough away from the threat of any sort of long term contact.

Splinter used to wonder if Purple was scared to ask for anything more, like Leonardo, or if he thought depriving himself of a comforting hug would make him seem stronger, like Raphael, or even the rare times when Michelangelo wished to appear more mature and refused to be comforted. Eventually, Splinter caught on to the truth. His son was asking for comfort, in his own unique way. He was content with the minimal amount of closeness, as long as he felt like he was able to dictate the terms.

But one thing Purple would always allow his father to do, was loop his fingers around his ankles. Trusting the grip would hold his legs in place and keep him stable. He once said the pressure was small enough that it wasn’t overwhelming, but strong enough that it could ground him when everything became too much.

Even now, the act of reaching out to pull his son’s long legs up had been so instinctive. When Splinter looks over and sees the uncertainty still on Purple’s face, he knows he’s pushed too far too quickly.

It’s a risky move, but he’s already pushed, and it’s something that never fails, not once since he’s discovered it.

Purple has always been the most ticklish of all his brothers. Another thing that never really helped his sensory issues. But Splinter long ago discovered that there was a particular spot, which could always earn him a giggle and a brighter smile.

Splinter grips the meat of Donatello’s right knee and jiggles it back and forth. The silly action seems to do the trick and knocks something loose in his son’s overwrought head. His gamble pays off spectacularly, and Splinter is overjoyed to see a small smile erase most of the uncertainty clouding Donatello’s face. It isn’t a full peal of laughter, but the wariness makes way for something softer, and the huff of air from his nose is just as rewarding as a full body laugh.

His boy rests his shoulder and head onto the cushioned back of the chair and Splinter presses the button that will lift up the leg rest, and recline them both into a more restful position.

After a few moments of quiet, Donatello slowly pulls his phone from the pocket of his hoodie. Even without looking directly at him, Splinter can feel his son watching and waiting for the reprimand he thinks will come. Instead, Splinter raises the volume of his show just loud enough for him to hear, but not enough to completely shatter their peace. He wants to make Purple feel more at ease; like he’s not being constantly surveilled–not providing more overstimulation.

They sit like that for some time. Splinter rubs a thumb back and forth across the meatier part of Donatello's calves. He’s learned that repetitive touch is the best kind of grounding technique for Purple. The patterned motion always worked to calm his nerves.

Even still, after only so long Splinter catches Purple lowering his phone.

He keeps his own gaze forward, locked on his commercials. Splinter can see, without looking, that his son is studying him, trying to take apart something in his mind that he doesn’t understand. Splinter allows him all the time he needs to gather his thoughts.

Finally Purple speaks, “Dad…?” It’s so quiet, if Splinter hadn't been waiting for it, he might’ve missed it.

He pauses the repetitive kneading for just a moment, squeezing his hold, and humming in order to prompt his son to continue his thought.

“Can I tell you something?” The inquiry is whispered to him so delicately. It takes everything in him to keep his face open and soft and his movements steady. It’s clear that Donatello is trying his best to remain aloof, but his gaze is locked on his hands that are settled in his lap, the fingers of one pulling on the digits from his other.

At some point he must’ve put his phone completely away. Splinter feels the pressure of having Donatello's complete focus aimed at him.

The tugging intensifies. Splinter wonders if he should reach out, but he’s not sure how well that would be received. It doesn’t look painful just yet.

“I don't know what Kendra is accomplishing by showing me this.” Donatello growls, suddenly digging his palms into his eyes like he can still feel the weight of the screen blocking his vision. “Trying to make me happy, only to rip it all away from me? Or attempting to make me feel, even more like a useless burden than I was?”

It’s the first crack in his armor that Purple has shown in days. A clear sign that he was not as unaffected by Kendra’s lies as he’d been trying to project. Donatello sighs, but as it dies out Splinter thinks it sounds closer to a sob.

“You can’t tell the others…” Donatello looks at him with wet, desperate eyes, and it’s unclear if his son still doubts who he’s speaking to, but Splinter works to ease his fears all the same.

“I swear, whatever you tell me will remain between us, alone.”

Donatello nods faintly, eyes trailing downwards once more. Splinter may have had trouble before, but now the many emotions jumping across his son’s face—fear, shame, frustration, all are easy to catch.

With a shaking breath he whispers his secret. “I lied.” He’s crying now, real tears that he doesn’t even bother to wipe away. The pulling at his skin grows more violent, and Splinter finally interferes to carefully pry Donatello’s hands apart before damage is done. In place he cradles his son’s hands like delicate porcelain and runs a thumb over Donatello’s palm.

“I told everyone that I could tell. That I wasn’t being fooled, but that’s not exactly true. The last few loops have…it’s been getting harder, and harder to remember things— how they really happened. Too much is…plausible.”

Splinter keeps silent. This confession has clearly been weighing on Donatello. He deserves to get it all out, and hopefully feel lighter for it. Even if Purple suspects the family, something is letting Donatello open up enough for him to share his fears.

“There was one loop…Mikey broke…he broke the remote…When I said I didn’t have time to fix it. He threw the pieces at my head. He would never do that, though…right?”

“No, of course not,” Splinter answers immediately, quick to banish the doubt from his son’s mind. Donatello only blinks at him, like his thoughts are moving too slow, and cannot comprehend such a simple, stark contradiction to what he experienced.

“It felt so real…it all feels so real. But…I could feel how one of the sharp, broken corners had cut through my mask and how the wet fabric stuck to my skin with blood.”

Donatello raises a hand and touches the spot where the phantom wound must’ve sat. The pain now gone, but the memory of it haunts his eyes and rattles the tremors building in his hands.

“I thought…I thought I was handling this—maybe not well…But I’d hoped I would be strong enough to last until you all came for me…And now Raph is saying it’s already over.”

It’s a simplified form of the truth which they had tried to get Purple to believe, but even that much clearly doesn’t sit well with him. “If it is over, why does my body feel like one massive bruise? How did you all find me? How long did I last? Was I in there long enough to…?”

He’s clearly scared to ask Splinter any more questions, so he trails off, curling in on himself and pulling his hands up to his chest, pressing there, as if checking to make sure he feels something still beating.

Splinter decides he’s waited long enough and slowly pulls Donatello out of his hunched ball and guides his head to his own chest, making sure his ear is aligned against his own pulsing heartbeat.

Donatello resists slightly at first, but the moment he’s close enough to catch the sound, his breath catches and he glues himself to the spot.

“I don’t want to be there anymore,” Purple murmurs. It sounds like sleep is catching up with his son, the exhaustion pulling him down and slurring his words.

Splinter cups the back of Donatello’s head and carefully tug his fur lined blanket down from where it’s been sitting on the back of his chair. The blanket slots over the both of them and Donatello curls even closer to his father, tucking himself into his warmth.

“Go to sleep, when you wake up, you will be right here.” He’s sure to say it softly but with as much reassurance as possible, and Donatello seems too tired at this point to hold onto his doubts.

“Okay…,” Donatello mutters. Then, practically hanging on to the waking world for one final query hesitantly asks, “…Dad?…Do you love me?”

Splinter doesn’t even think. “Of course, my son.”

Donatello’s breathing finally evens out, and Splinter feels a few tears finally escape.

He’s not sure what next steps they should take, or what kind of state his son will be in when he wakes, but Splinter can only hope this is progress. He prays it won’t be undone…but regardless, Donatello is home. Any steps back or forward will be taken together, and that is the most important part.

[themathomhouse]

Hot take: people are neither inherently good nor inherently bad. We can all do bad things, knowingly or unknowingly; and we only have a certain degree of control over this.

It's also incredibly dangerous to say that a mental illness can't be a cause or contributing factor to harming others, as it just makes people at large more likely to say that we shouldn't help ill people if they've ever hurt anyone - which can extend to not helping people who haven't hurt anyone, but are seeking help to deal with thoughts about hurting people.

People always need help, no matter what they've done. In fact, knowing that help won't be taken away regardless of any kind of moral purity test is a vital step towards getting people to seek help.

I really wish we had more space for "mental illness is not an EXCUSE that ABSOLVES PEOPLE OF RESPONSIBILITY FROM HARM" that doesn't veer into "mental illness is NEVER even so much as a CONTRIBUTING FACTOR in people harming others, example, my besties I'm biased towards who have a presentation of their mental illness that happens to not be harmful to others"

We can still hold a person responsible for doing terrible things without playing the "Well everyone I know is One Of The Good Ones so this other person must simply be evil" game.

This goes for basically every stigmatized disorder you can think of. You don't help "the good ones" by denying the disorder's contribution to the behavior of "the bad ones".

[szynkaaa]

Billard pose ref here

Most recent brainrot is putting Kiwi and Oz into a modern AU. Monkey See, Monkey Do

Started out with Destined One frequenting the same bar to practice billard, while Oz is the resident pianist there and it just snowballed from there and now I have some backstories for those two idiots

🥝 Kiwi / Destined One

5th year medicine student. 25 years old, he started with his study when he was 20, took two years to travel around

Lost his parents and older brother in a car accident. He barely survived and was hospitalized for a long time. Selective mute since then

Uncle Shen Monkey then took him in and raised him

remembers the nurses and doctors fondly hence, why he also wants to study medicine and become a doctor later

Uncle Shen Monkey owns cocktail lounge / fancy bar called Flying Monkeys . Shen Monkey is also the barista also, and there are few pool tables available.

Kiwi spent a lot of his teen years playing billard, hence he is VERY good at it. Still goes to play and practice

Kiwi participates in local tournaments

also helps out at the lounge from time to time

Seems to be very popular among his peers despite being an introvert and loner??

his fellow students like him because when they ask him for help he gives it to them

the type that seems like a cold douche but will not hesitate to step in when he sees a woman being uncomfortable or being harrassed

kinda popular among the ladies, plus the fact that he looks really good when playing billard adds to it

probably gets asked out a lot, or phone numbers slipped into his bag

always rejects them because he got his sight set on someone else hehe

frequents @maiden-of-the-waters cafe a lot to study there

Avid comic collector. Wanted to be a comic artist as a kid....

🌟 Oz

Med student drop out during her practical years. 26 years old

parents divorced when she was super young. Dad moved away and remarried and has a new family. She has two half-siblings

occassionaly talks with the half siblings, but has not much contact with her father. Mom had full custody and essentially raised her as a single mom

typical tiger mom. Loves her mom but has a strained relationship with her at the moment. low contact

Did not have many friends as a kid, mom had a tight grip on her and her time and education. Started making real friends once she moved out for university. Met Yù @marcu-bug, Birdie @dunanana, Liyu @s0rr3l and Beike @maiden-of-the-waters and they are pretty much her only friends LOL

Started having piano lessons as early on. Had good promises to be a concert pianist, but ofc that is not a viable career path as per her mom

Studied medicine only because her mom wanted her to. She was VERY MISERABLE during her time as a student. Dropped out during the practical years because the pressure was just too much for her and she realized being a doctor was just not what she wanted to do. She wasn't happy with it, hence also why her relationship with her mom is strained, cause Oz was THIS close to finishing and then decided to ""give up""

Also her then-boyfriend cheated on her she caught him in bed with another person

And her great-grandfather passed away

overall not a good year on her mental health. Realized all she did was just doing what other people wanter her to do. Dropped out to take a break and just figure out her place in this world

works as a pianist at Flying Monkeys after dropping out. Shen Monkey pays really well and she also gets very good tips because. Helps out at the bar on days when they are short staffed to make some more extra cash

Gets hit on few times at work, but luckily a certain monkey is always there to look out for her....

🥝x 🌟

Kiwi bumped into Oz during his first year in univeristy. Probably when both needed to submit some paperwork for the univerity, Oz for dropping out. She noticed him carrying the newest comic issue of The Monkey King, and asked him about it

Learned really soon that he is a selective mute, but didn't treat him any differently and just carried on the conversation with him as usual, which he really appreciated

I wouldn't say it was love at first sight for him, more like the feeling you have when you're sitting in the plane and it is landing soon and you see the lights of your city below you and you know you are this close to home? Yeah it's that feeling.

anyway months passed and he hasn't seen her since then but she is always like there in the back of his mind

Uncle Shen Monkey telling him one day that he hired a new pianist which is nice cause they haven't had one in a while and that he wants Kiwi to be there to show her around the lounge a bit and stuff

Kiwi, not very happy about that because he doesn't really enjoy meeting new people, is then surprised to see that Oz is the new pianist his uncle hired.

Oz.... vaguely remembers him LOL. Probably takes her like a few weeks to go "hey.... have we met before???"

Suddenly Kiwi has a lot more time to be around his uncle's lounge again. Uncle Shen Monkey know what is up there. probably tries to play wingman

Enter the "and they were roommates" arc

Oz moved back to her mom but things are NOT good. lot's of fights

Kiwi overhearing one day how she asks Shen Monkey if he knows about any free rooms for rent to let her know

and whatdya know Uncle Shen Monkey does happen to know someone who has a free room

Kiwi. it's kiwi who has a free room that is sort of used as a storage at the moment. he doesn't mind Oz moving in there. Gives her a really good rent deal, where she is basically paying all the bills and that's it

Kiwi owns the apartment. His parents left a good amount of assets behind which he sold and then bought his own place

Oz is very grateful for the deal, because it helps her to save money and put aside to eventually move out and find her own place

spoiler alert that's not gonna happen lmfao

This is the apartment layout:

Oz has the room closes to the bathroom because Kiwi is nice like that. He'd move in an old piano in too for her to practice and play

at first Oz was very shy about playing because she doesn't want to disturb him when he is studying but he likes listening to her practice and play when he is studying

I think that before Oz moved in, Kiwi barely decorated the apartment much. The embodiment of only had the bare neccessaties in it. But once Oz moves in, it started to feel more like a home than just a housing for him to come back and pass out. I think the only real personal belonging he has is a good decent The Monkey King comic collectiona and collectibles

Definitely have a vinyl record player, something that Oz always wanted to have. She movied in with like five records in her collection, and Kiwi then gifted her a player, and the collection just grew from there

both are very much introverts, so they prefer to spend most of the time just chilling at home, on the couch together playing games or reading books

Oz does sometimes have her friends other to hangout

because both work crazy hours sometimes, Kiwi would go Flying Monkeys after his shift to pick Oz up and then they go home together

Kiwi doesn't know how to drive, never learned too traumatized from the accident. So Oz is the one who rents a car and drives when they decied to take trips together

Have a rule to put a sock on the door handle and text the other person to let them know when they have special guests at the palce

spoiler alert none of them ever bring any hook ups home lmfao

Oz does go on few dates but never brings anyone home because it just doesn't feel right

and Kiwi well, his heart belongs to only one person hehe

have weekly movie nights. Kiwi takes it personal if Oz binges a whole season without him

there is a lot more for me to share but then I'd have a massive essay so I will stop here.

anyway great chemistry as roomates. wink wink nudge nudge

[unknowntoyou2205]

Christmas Tears

Anthony Bridgerton x wife reader

Info: Y/n used to love the festive holidays, but this year she loses something special

Warnings: child loss, grief

Anthony and Y/n Bridgerton had been together for nearly a year now. During last season they had met, y/n’s family had travelled back home to be with her grandmother after her grandpa’s death, and it had been the first year y/n was introduced to society. As a 20 year old woman she was known as an old woman, nearly old enough to be a spinster. But her father was adamant that his only daughter wasn’t going to wind up with that title, so had put together a list of suitable men for y/n to meet.

Anthony Bridgerton hadn’t been on that list, but for some reason his younger brother Colin had. With y/n’s father having an interest in travelling, the third oldest Bridgerton had caught his eye, and therefore the two had been introduced. Neither Colin or y/n had an interest in each other, but had become close friends. They would often pomegrade around the town with y/n’s handmaid, and one day the viscountess had offered the y/l/n family an invitation to dinner, which was where Anthony and y/n had officially meet.

It was butterflies from the start for y/n, and Anthony had felt a shook when he took y/n’s hand, bringing it up to kiss it gently. Violet could tell by the look on her oldest face that he was smitten for the girl, and had advised Colin to get the two to sit together. For the duration of the night, Anthony showed great interest for the young woman, and asked any questions from her hobby to what she wanted in the future. At first her father wasn’t impressed, but when he seen the look the two mothers gave each other, he found himself second guessing which Bridgerton boy he thought best for his daughter. Despite wanting her to marry for society, y/f/n also wanted her to have some form of love within that marriage, just as he and y/m/n had. It was to Colins relief when her father told him abruptly that he wasn’t suitable for his daughter, and Benedict was more than happy to tell Anthony about that conversation.

It wasn’t long until Anthony asked for y/n’s hand from her father. He had visited her on the daily, and when the two families were out he would escort y/n around, much to the dismay of those who watched on. Anthony asked the question on one of their walks, stopping in the middle of the path as he took both of y/n’s hands, facing her as he smiled at her. She blushed as he held everyone behind them up, but he didn’t care about any of that, his attention solely on y/n. Their mothers hugged each other in delight as they watched the eldest Bridgerton ask the only daughter to marry him, while his father coughed to hid his emotions, shaking Anthony’s hand.

Now, in the cold December weather, the newest Bridgerton couple had joy on their doorsteps. Three months after their wedding, the new Viscountess had learnt that she had become with child. Anthony had been overjoyed with the news, and had grown protective of y/n from the moment they conceived. Y/n had known that her mother found it difficult to conceive, which was why she was an only child, and she had been scared that the same thing would happen to her. So when the doctor confirmed that she was indeed carrying a child, she was ecstatic, wasting no time telling her husband the news.

“Y/n, dear, what is it?” Anthony had asked when his wife had barged into his office without so much of a knock. “Anthony, I am with child.” Y/n grinned ear to ear as she said it out loud. “You are certain?” Anthony asked, not believing his ears. “Yes, it isn’t just the bug I had.” Y/n cried joyfully, putting her hands around Anthony’s neck. Anthony laughed in joy as he placed his hands on her cheeks to wipe away the tears before pulling her into his arms. “What on earth is all this about?” Benedict asked, seeing his brother and new sister buzzing with excitement. “Call mother, we have some exciting news.” Anthony told his brother, and y/n smiled as Benedict rushed off. “We are to be parents.” Y/n called out gleefully as Violet came into Anthony’s office with Benedict and Colin behind her. “Oh this is wonderful news.” Violet exclaimed, moving to take the new Viscountess in her arms. “Congratulations brother.” Benedict smiled, shaking her brothers hand. “Does this mean we should leave?” Colin asked jokingly, only for Anthony to laugh as Colin pulled him into a hug. “Oh I promise I will be out of your hair as soon as I can.” Violet stated to y/n as she kept a hold of her hands. “I assure you there is no rush for anyone to leave. It is a delight to be around such a large family.” Y/n smiled at each of the Bridgerton present, Anthony placing a hand on her shoulder.

---

The months of y/n’s pregnancy flew by quickly. The Bridgerton family were excited for the newest addition, and going by the couples maths, the baby would be due sometime in December. Y/n had always enjoyed Christmas, so having her first born during her favourite time of year made her feel all warm and fuzzy. Yet when December came, the couple felt  underprepared. Both y/n and Anthony’s mothers had bombarded the couple with gifts for the baby, and y/n’s father had helped Anthony when it came to the nursery. The couple refused to let the help do the nursery for them, wanting to enjoy the troubles that came with the joy. Y/n had just stood laughing at her father and husband as they put together the wooden crib, while her mother helped her prepare the clothing the babe would wear.

The Christmas tree had been placed in the family room, and y/n admired the twinkling lights that shone on it. The odd ornaments that had been part of the Bridgerton family were littered along the branches, with one new addition for the new Viscountess. Y/n smiled as Hyacinth and Gregory ran around it, holding her swollen baby as she imagined what it would be like with her own children in the years to come. Anthony walked into the room to see her beautiful wife lounging on the sofa, and he smiled as he jumped down beside her, causing y/n to hit his knee in mock anger.

“Anthony Bridgerton, please be careful.” Y/n scolded her husband, before cupping his chin as he pecked her lips. “I do apologize my love.” Anthony smirked at her, pecking her lips again before wrapping an arm over her shoulder. “Will the baby come tomorrow?” Hyacinth asked, looking at the couple on the couch. “I don’t know Hyacinth, only they can decide that.” Y/n smiled at her little sister. “I don’t think I’d like that, a birthday on Christmas day.” Gregory scrunched his nose at the thought. “I think it would be a lovely gift to have them come on Christmas.” Anthony mused, placing a hand on y/n’s swollen stomach. “Your not the one that’ll be going through hardship my love. I would rather have no pain tomorrow.” y/n smiled, wanting to enjoy their first and last Christmas as the two of them. “You soon forget the hardship once you see their little face.” Violet explained as she came into view of her children. “Still , I would enjoy a quiet Christmas with my love.” Y/n smiled, looking up at Anthony. “I like the sound of that.” Anthony smiled, leaning down to kiss his wife softly. “Perhaps we should let your brother and love be children. After all they need all the rest they can get before the joys of parenthood begins.” Violet spoke to her two children, ushering them out of the room before closing the door behind them.

----

The night was cold as y/n walked around the grounds in her house gown. She had felt some twinges and had decided to take a walk outside to see if the cool air would help. Miraculously Anthony hadn’t woken up as she moved, so she got out in peace without Anthony trying to keep her inside. She had seen the clock on her way out, and couldn’t help the smile on her face when she seen it was past twelve. She could see the street lights still shining, and smiled at the sight before jumping when a voice was heard from behind her.

“You should be asleep my love.” Anthony mused, walking over to y/n with his coat hung over his arm. “couldn’t sleep, thought the fresh air would help.” Y/n hummed, rolling her eyes as she felt Anthony drape his coat over her shoulders. “It’s too cold for you to be out here.” Anthony spoke, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I’m with child, not fragile.” Y/n stated, moving to lean against her husband’s chest. “Still, I’d hate for you to be sick on Christmas day.” Anthony stated, kissing her forehead. “I’ll be fine.” Y/n spoke.

The couple stayed in each other’s arms, enjoying their time together. Y/n snuggled into her husbands body, enjoying the comfort she felt in his arms. Feeling his wife leaning heavier on him, Anthony wiggled his fingers along her side to tickle her.

“Anthony stop.” Y/n giggled, trying to get away from him. ���Let’s go back to bed. Hyacinth and Gregory will soon be waking us up.” Anthony stated, smiling down at his wife. “Merry Christmas my love.” Y/n smiled. “Merry Christmas y/n” Anthony grinned, knowing how much y/n enjoyed Christmas.

Y/n allowed Anthony to guide her back into the house. It was weird moving in such a quiet house, with voices always haunting the halls during the day. The Viscount and Viscountess began to make their way up the stairs, however, y/n found herself barely able to move when she felt the twinges coming back. Grabbing Anthony’s arm, she came to a stop to catch her breath. Feeling her grip tighten, Anthony looked down at his wife before her knees buckled under her.

“Oww.” Y/n winched, holding her stomach in one hand as she held Anthony’s in the other as she fell. “y/n, what is it my love.” Anthony asked, panicked by the clear pain his wife was feeling. “It hurts.” Y/n whimpered, allowing Anthony to slide his arm around her as he crouched down beside her. “What’s wrong?” Anthony asked. “I don’t know.” Y/n cried, digging her nails into Anthony’s arm. “Help, somebody help.” Anthony called out, not wanting to leave her wife’s side. “Anthony.” Y/n cried, moving to lean her head against his chest. “I know. Somebody please.” Anthony yelled, and then movement was heard.

The next few moments were quick. Multiple handmaids came to the Viscounts aid. With strict instructions to bring his love to their room, a door man was ordered to go for the midwife and inform y/n’s family o while others grabbed water and towels. Multiple doors opened, but Anthony ignored them as he made his way to their bedroom.

“What’s going on?” Violet asked, moving to the closest person. “The viscountess has gone into labour ma’m.” The woman spoke, bowing her head. “Oh Lord.” Violet exclaimed, rushing to help. “What’s happening?” A tired Benedict yawned as he walked out of his room. “Get Colin and take Hyacinth and Gregory to the far rooms. It’s time.” Violet spoke quickly to her son before running to aid her eldest.

---

Screams filed the once quiet halls as Anthony paced along the halls, anxious of what was to come. After some convincing from his mother, Anthony had left the room when the midwife arrived, leaving hm out of the woods of what was happening. He closed his eyes as he listened to his loves screams of pain, praying for it all to be over quickly.

Violet and y/n’s mother were standing each side of the bed, holding y/n’s hands as they coaxed the girls breathing. Sweat covered the viscountess’s forehead, and her eyes had grown tired from all the pain and pushing. The midwife stood at the bottom of the bed, watching for the babes head to appear, but it was a struggle. Y/n had been in labour for the best of an hour, and there was no sign of the babies head.

“Y/n, I’m going to try and feel for the babies head.” The midwife explained, and y/n’s mother looked down at the midwife. “I can’t do it mama, I can’t.” Y/n cried, jumping in discomfort as the midwife done what needed to be done. “Yes you can sweetheart, just think, your baby will soon be in your arms.” Her mother smiled down, pushing back the hair from y/n’s face. “Alright y/n, the baby’s cord is wrapped around the neck so I’m gonna need you to push for me when you feel the need to, as hard as you can.”

Y/n looked up at the two mothers who gripped her hand tightly, nodding at her that it’ll all be okay. She was growing tired, and she just wanted it to be over. Feeling the next contraction, she screamed as she pushed, feeling nothing but pain.

“That’s it y/n, your doing so well. I see their head. Keep going.” The midwife spoke. “Good girl, that’s it.” Y/n’s mother commented, smiling as she kept pushing her daughters hair back in comfort.

Y/n’s screaming came to a stop, causing silence to fill the room. Anthony looked to the door, hoping for someone to come tell him what was going on. Inside, y/n cried in relief as Violet and y/m/n squeezed her hand, comforting her.

“You done so well y/n.” Violet stated, taking a towel to wipe the girls face from sweat. “I’m so proud of you.” Her mother stated with a smile, before looking down where the midwife was working on the baby. “Why aren’t they crying?” Y/n asked, knowing that usually a babe would be screaming. “Ma’m, what’s happening?” Y/n’s mother asked, already having an idea. “They should be crying. Why aren’t they crying? What’s wrong with my baby?” Y/n cried out, begging to know what was going on. “You had a baby boy.” The midwife spoke softly, and the three women looked her way. “Why can’t I see him?” Y/n asked, tears filling her eyes. “I’m so sorry.” The midwife spoke sorrowfully, and y/n began to scream. “No.” Y/n screamed, “Please.” “I’m so sorry sweetheart, I’m so so sorry.” Y/n’s mother grabbed her daughter, allowing her to cling to her. “Anthony.” Y/n screamed in sorrow, wanting her husband.

Anthony looked up in terror as he heard y/n screaming his name. His heart thumped in his chest as he moved towards the door. Not caring about whether or not he should go in, he burst through the door. He froze when he seen what was in front of him. Y/n was in her mothers arms, screaming and crying as her mother attempted to soothe her. The midwife was cleaning y/n up and his mother turned to him before placing a hand on y/n’s back and walking towards him.

“What’s happened?” Anthony asked, seeing the tears in his mothers eyes as y/n could be heard screaming and crying in the background. “Anthony, I’m so sorry.” Violet spoke softly to her son, placing her hands on his arms. “What?” Anthony asked, looking at his mother in horror. “The baby… he didn’t survive.” Violet explained, before wrapping her arms around Anthony.

Anthony clung to his mother as they both fell. They’re baby was gone before it even had the chance to survive.

----

Christmas morning was a sour one for the Bridgerton family. While Hyacinth and Gregory were blissfully unaware of what was going on, they ran around, playing with their presents. The adults sat in the family room, staring into space. Violet had told Benedict, Colin and Eloise about the loss of the baby. The family were in shock, not sure what to do.

After the midwife left the family to mourn, y/n’s mother left after kissing the Viscount and Viscountess on the head. Anthony had moved straight over to his wife, climbing on the bed as she continued to scream in sorrow. Shedding his own tears, he kissed her head as he rocked her. Neither of them moved from the room, and no one went to see them.

At dinner time, Violet asked y/n’s handmaid to try get the couple down to eat something. While the children dug into the turkey, ham and trimmings, the adults remained in their seats, waiting to see if the couple came. They held their breaths when they heard footsteps, and soon two drained and tired figures came into light. Anthony kept an arm around his wife, and only moved from her when Benedict and Colin stood up, moving to comfort the couple. Benedict allowed y/n to fall into his arms as Anthony threw his arms around Colin. Violet looked down with tearful eyes, and Eloise could only watch in shock.

“Why?” Y/n cried, breaking the families hearts, “Why?” causing Anthony to bury his head on his younger brothers shoulder to hid the tears.

[burningvelvet]

being a romantic era poet: a quick how-to guide

walk around in nature contemplating Things. start hiking, swimming, sailing, rowing, shooting, riding, etc. for inspiration

be obsessed with the french revolution and related enlightenment-era figures like rousseau, voltaire, mary wollstonecraft, and madame de staël. be more disappointed by napoleon bonaparte than you are by your own father. 

speaking of fathers, your parents and most of your other relatives are all either dying or dead or emotionally abusive. if you have any siblings (full, half, step, or adopted) who DIDN'T die tragically already, then you may choose to be close to them. you also may end up being much TOO close to them. various circumstances may also ban you from seeing them. 

be at least slightly touched by madness and/or some other severe illness(es) including but not limited to: consumption, horrors, syphilis, deformities, lameness, terrors, piles, boils, pox, allergies, coughing, sleep abnormalities, gonorrhea, etc. — for which you must take frequent bed rest and copious amounts of Laudanum (opium derivation)

consider foregoing meat and adopting a vegetable diet instead to purify the spirits. you may also abstain from alcohol for the same reasons. alternatively, you may attempt the veggie diet, end up rejecting it, and becoming a rampant alcoholic instead. in romanticism there is no healthy medium between abstinence and excess.

reject, or at least heavily criticize, christianity. refuse to get married in a church and consider becoming a fervent champion of atheism. alternatively, you may embrace catholicism, but only on an aesthetic basis. eastern religions and minority religions are also acceptable, only because they piss off the christians. 

if you’re not a self-hating member of the aristocracy and instead have to work for a living, do something that allows you to benefit society, be creative, and/or contemplate life. viable options include, but are not limited to: apothecarist, doctor, teacher, preacher, lawyer, farmer, printmaker, publisher, editor. there is also the possibility of earning a few coins from your art. if you were cursed to be born a She, no worries. we believe in equality. you may choose from these occupations: wife, nanny, housekeeper, spinster, amanuensis (copy writer for a man), lady’s companion, divorced wife, singer/actress/escort, widow, regular escort, tutor, or housewife. 

speaking of sexist institutions, try rejecting marriage entirely. Declare your eternal devotion to your lover by having sex with them on your mother’s grave instead.

if you do get married — elope, and only let it be for necessary financial reasons, or to try and save a teenage girl from her controlling family, or out of true love with someone you view as your intellectual equal, or because your life is so racked with scandals and debt that you can only clear your name by matrimony to a wealthy religious woman as your last resort before fleeing the country.

After marriage, quickly assert your belief in the powers of free love and bisexuality by taking extramarital lovers and suggesting your spouse follow suit. If they cannot keep up with your intellectual escapades then consider leaving them. Later on, propose a platonic friendship with them following the separation, or beg them for reconciliation.

If your marriage is happy, try moving in with another bohemian couple to shake things up. Alternatively, you may die before the wedding for dramatic effect.

If you beget children (whether in or out of marriage, makes no matter), do society a favor by choosing to raise them with your beliefs. Consider adopting orphan children, or even non-orphan children. If their parents are poor enough they probably won’t mind. Try kidnapp— I mean adopting — children off the side of the road if you can. 

DIE but do it creatively. ideally young. ideas: prophecy your own death, lead an army into war and then die right before your first battle and on your deathbed curse everyone and demand to see a witch, write a will leaving money to your mistresses or some random young man you have an unrequited romantic obsession with, carry a copy of your dead friend's poetry and read it right before you drown so that your washed up corpse can only be identified by his book in your pocket, die while staring at your lover's shriveled up heart that you keep wrapped up in a copy of his own poetry and then be buried with it, die of the poet's illness (consumption) while your artist friend draws you and then be buried with your lover's writing, get mysteriously poisoned (by yourself) after a series of scandals and accidents and then have your family announce that you were killed by god, die from romanticizing poverty or receiving bad reviews from literary critics, die from walking or horseback riding in the cold and the rain while poeticizing, etc.

[rafemotherfuckingcameron]

This might be too much for you but can I request step dad x reader where you mom has fertility issues and readers mom wants Rafe to breed you 🙏

UNNATURAL

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing(s): step!dad Rafe x Reader, reader!mom x reader

Warnings: SMUT, breeding, pregnancy talk

Summary: Your mum asks Rafe to breed you

Masterlist

Sitting on the edge of your bed, the weight of your mother's request heavy on your shoulders, you feel torn between conflicting emotions. On one hand, you can't bear the thought of disappointing the woman who's been there for you through thick and thin, the one person who's always had your back for the past 21 years. But on the other hand, the gravity of what she's asking you to do is almost too much to comprehend.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind. This decision isn't one to be taken lightly—it's a choice that will shape the course of your future in ways you can't even begin to imagine.

With a heavy sigh, you close your eyes and try to focus on the facts. Surrogacy is a deeply personal and complex process, one that involves not just your physical well-being, but your emotional and psychological health as well. And to do it for your own mother, with Rafe as the father... it's a scenario straight out of a nightmare.

But as you weigh the pros and cons, you can't shake the feeling that there's more at stake here than just your own future. Your mother's longing for another child of her own is palpable, a desperate plea for fulfilment that tugs at your heartstrings. The weight of your mother's struggle with fertility weighs heavily on your heart as you grapple with the decision before you. 

You've seen firsthand the toll it's taken on her—the countless doctor's appointments, the disappointment with each failed attempt, the longing in her eyes every time she sees a young child.

For years, she's been trying to conceive another baby, hoping to fill the void. But despite her unwavering determination and countless efforts, the reality of her fertility issues has remained a bitter pill to swallow.

===

With a heavy heart and a sense of resignation, you come to a decision: you'll say yes to your mother's request. Despite the unease and uncertainty swirling within you, you can't bear the thought of letting her down, of denying her the chance to have another child.

“Mum, I have thought long and hard about this and I have to a decision. I’ll do it.” As you utter the words, a weight lifts from your shoulders, replaced by a strange mix of relief and apprehension.

You know that this decision will change your life in ways you can't even begin to imagine, but for now, you push those thoughts to the back of your mind, focusing instead on the task at hand.

Your mother's face lights up with joy and gratitude as you confirm your agreement, her eyes shining with unshed tears. In that moment, you can't help but feel a twinge of guilt for the doubt and hesitation you harboured just moments before. After all, this is what she's been dreaming of for years—the chance to expand her family and experience the joy of motherhood once more.

Your mother's excitement is palpable, her joy contagious as she envelops you in a tight embrace. "OMG honey, I'm so happy," she squeals, her voice filled with unbridled enthusiasm. "I can't wait to tell Rafe."

You offer her a weak smile, trying to match her enthusiasm despite the knot of unease that's settled in the pit of your stomach. "I'm happy too, Mom," you murmur, though the words ring hollow in your own ears.

As she pulls away, your mother's eyes sparkle with anticipation. "I want to get started straight away," she declares, already reaching for her phone. "I'll text Rafe and tell him we're on for tonight."

Your heart lurches at the mention of tonight, your mind reeling with confusion. "Wait, what? Tonight?" you echo, the words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them. "Isn't the doctor's office closed?"

Your mother pauses, a puzzled expression flickering across her features. "Y/n, we're not going to the doctor's," she explains gently, as if speaking to a child. "We're doing it naturally, for the best results. I thought you knew that."

A chill runs down your spine at her words, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. 

You hadn't realised that her plan involved bypassing medical professionals altogether, relying instead on... what? Luck? Chance? The whims of fate?

The reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks, and suddenly, the gravity of your decision becomes all too real. You're about to embark on a journey that could change your life forever, all in the name of fulfilling your mother's dreams.

“Mum, I’ve never you know” you say trying to make her understand without actually saying it. “What honey?“ she asks generally confused. “You know……..had sex before!” Your cheeks blush with embarrassment.

“Oh, honey thats okay. I’ll make sure Rafe takes good care of you.” She says placing her hand on your knee to assure you. You nod, still a bit hesitant. But still willing to do this for your mother, no matter uncomfortable this situation is going to get.

“Great, and don’t worry, you don’t have to any of that threeplay most people do” she smiles, “ewww mum, and btw its foreplay.” You say trying to hid you smirk.

===

That night your mum ushers you towards the bathroom, her voice soft and reassuring. "Go on, honey. Take a nice warm bath and relax. Rafe will be here soon, and I want you to be feeling your best when he arrives."

As you sink into the soothing embrace of the hot water, the cares of the world seem to melt away, replaced by a sense of calm and tranquility. As you soak in the tub, lost in your thoughts and the gentle rhythm of the water, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation building in your chest.

Just as your about to unplug the bath, you hear someone open the bathroom door. “Hey Y/n, it’s just Rafe. Your mum left for a few hours, to give us some time, so you didn’t feel like you were being waited on.”

Startled by the sudden intrusion, you sit up in the bathtub, water sloshing around you as you turn to see Rafe standing in the doorway. "Hey, Rafe," you greet him, your voice filled with genuine affection. "Thanks for letting me know."

As he steps further into the room, you can't help but feel butterflies in your chest. Rafe walks forward and sits across from you. Breaking the silence, Rafe reaches out to take your hand in his, his touch gentle yet firm.

The connection sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, igniting a fire within that threatens to consume you both. “Your mum mentioned that this is your first time and I wanted to let you know, I’m going to take really good care you.” 

Just as your about to speak, his hand slides down your thigh, gently pushing your legs open. Your breath hitches as his fingers find you clit, rubbing tiny circles in it. You legs fall to the sides of the bathtub, letting him move his hand and rest it on you. Soft moans escape your lips as you feel a knot forming in your stomach, a band ready to snap. 

Rafe fastens his pace and rubs harder into my bud, something snaps inside me and I feel a gush of liquid spill out of me. He removes his hand and grabs the towel from the wall handing it to me. “Wrap it around you and go and wait on the bed for me, I’m just going to have a quick shower.” 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I heard the soft creak of the door opening, and my heart skipped a beat. Slowly, Rafe stepped into the room, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

With a towel wrapped around his waist, he moved forwards, grabbing your arms gently and helping you rise to your feet. He leaned in and started peppering kisses down your neck and collarbone, he undid your towel and let it drop to the floor. Standing their absolutely nude felt weird and uncharted as this was the man that you mum loves. 

He twisted you around and pulled you flush against his chest, you felt the bulge behind your butt. His hands roamed your body, one of his hands grabbing at your left boob, squeezing and massaging the hard bud. His other hand reached down and massaged your clit again, although this time you were wetter.

“So wet for daddy huh!” he whispered. Rubbing faster and faster, my breath hitched and loud moans escaped my lips, “Get on the bed………on your hands and knees” He said in an dominant voice, regathering yourself, you pulled your legs into position.

He dropped his towel and his huge cock sprung up spilling pre cum on his chest. Wiping it off his abs with his fingers he placed the cum on your entrance. The feeling of his fingers spreading around your hole was a something you never thought would feel so good.

Stroking himself faster, you felt a harsh smack on you ass, making you flinch, the sting on the red hand print made you even wetter, so you pushed yourself back against his cock.

“You like being spanked by daddy, don’t you?” Rafe said giving you another slap. “Answer me” He yelled, grabbing my hair and tugging on it, 

“Yes” 

“Yes what?”

“Yes daddy”

Letting go of your hair he laid beside you “Your mum said no foreplay, but seeing you here now, I just can’t help myself” he explained, running his hand over your lower back.

“Hop on top, and face my cock. I want you to suck on it.” He said smirking, you remembered what your mum said about their not being any foreplay, so you were hesitant about doing it.

“Hurry up, or I’ll fuck you hard” He commanded. Jumping onto his chest, he pushed your head down on to his cock, you took him in your mouth only half fitting due to how big we was, you used your hand to compensate your mouth for the rest of him.

Bobbing your head up and down at a fast pace made you wetter by the minute. Suddenly you felt his tongue licking all around your entrance and his nose rubbing against your clit, the sensation made you go faster and grind down on his face.

Feeling his cock start to grow bigger, you felt the band ready to snap inside you. And just like that you squirted all over his tongue and you felt his hot cum ropes down your throat.

Out of breath you fell to the side, wiping your mouth you looked at Rafe as he hovered over you, grabbing his length his pushed in, you dug your nails into his bicep at the stretch, you breath stopping a second to adjust to him. “Relax” he said pushing himself in deeper, rubbing at your clit, you relaxed more and was able to push all the way in. The stretch was insane, it was mix of pain and pleasure, more so pleasure when he started to rock his hips. 

Feeling his length pull out than back in sent your eyes rolling back, he quickened his pace, lifting one of your legs onto his shoulder, all while still pounding into your dripping cunt.

You were taking him so well and squeezing around him, your body telling him that you were close, was enough to give him the adrenaline boost he needed, picking up speed as he fucked you deeper into the mattress. 

“fuck-” you breathed out. “Daddy, i’m-”

“you wanna cum?” he asked, his fingers now digging into the soft skin on your hips as he held himself up. 

“mhm..” you moaned out. 

“come on then. be a good girl and ask daddy.” his eyes met yours, almost causing you to come undone immediately. His eyes were now black and a thin sheen of sweat covered his skin, his hair to his forehead. 

“Daddy, please!” 

“yeah, come on, sweetheart. Make a mess all over my dick like the slut you are.”

And make a mess you did. Your back arched off the bed, toes curling as you screwed your eyes shut. 

“Look at me while you’re cumming so you know it’s your daddy who’s making you feel this good. Me, my dick, that’s ruining this tight pussy.”

You opened your eyes and held eye contact with rafe as he fucked you out of your high and into his. He let out a string of breathy “fuck”s and “Y/n”s as he released thick ropes of cum into you. Once rafe finally rode out his orgasm, he pulled out of you and flopped onto the bed beside you.

Catching your breath, you laid still until Rafe left the bed and walked into the bathroom, he came back into the room with a washcloth “I’ve never seen anyone squirt as many times as you’ve had. Not even your mother can. Just between me and you, I prefer you over your mother” laughing at his own statement. You made an awkward smile, while he wiped you down. 

1 Week Later

“Mum I’m Pregnant” "Oh, Y/n,” your mum exclaimed, her voice filled with emotion. "I can't believe it! You're going to be our surrogate! This is the most incredible gift anyone could ever give us."

Her words washed over you like a wave of warmth, enveloping you in a cocoon of love and gratitude. With tears of happiness streaming down your cheeks, you wrapped your arms around your mom, holding her tightly. "I love you so much, Mom," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I'm so grateful to be able to do this for you."

"Can't wait to fuck the mother of my child again" Rafe whispers, hugging me from behind.

Part 2

🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆

[bloodstained-ballgowns]

i just rewatched ‘the woman who fell to earth’ a couple of days ago for the first time since it aired back in 2018 and the more i think about it, the more i like it.

thirteen is the only doctor for whom i feel a tangible, rose-tinted nostalgia. she wasn’t my first doctor, but she was the first doctor i watched live, the first doctor that i spent an actual extended period of time with over the episode rollout. her intro episode has middling parts (as can be expected with most episodes of Who) but there’s also so much good that i really want to highlight.

first of all, there are some really great character dynamics set up here. much more interesting than i remember, tbh. ryan is a guy who loves mechanics but is stuck in a warehouse job he hates, a guy who obviously wants to connect to people, a guy who by the end of the episode has lost both his mother and grandmother in the space of a couple of years and the step-grandfather he didn’t really want is all he has left (minus his absent father). that’s interesting.

yaz has a keen sense of justice and this raw, intense yearning to help people, to do something worthwhile, something more - the way she has chosen to express that is through law enforcement, but it’s not quite giving her the satisfaction she wants. that’s interesting.

graham’s experience with cancer means that he constantly feels like he’s living on borrowed time. meeting grace gave him purpose, gave him family, gave him the will to fight when he fought it was all but over, but now grace is gone. he and ryan aren’t related, but they’re family, and now they’ve got to figure out how to care for each other without the very lynchpin that brought them together. once again with feeling: interesting!

“i’m just a traveller. sometimes i see things that need fixing. i do what i can.” i like that they circle back to the ‘just some guy’ portrayal of the doctor here, both because it’s the one i’m partial to and because it feeds particularly well into the whole ‘the doctor is an unreliable narrator’ aspect, especially in the wake of the increased deification in the moffat era. it's a nice set up, even if it gets completely overhauled circa series 12/13. in fact, having thirteen keep this as a persistent attitude throughout the Timeless Child of it all could have been really effective re: her reticence with her companions and refusal to address or deal with her past.

the scene where thirteen builds her sonic screwdriver might be one of my favourite sequences in nuwho. i love that it’s a hybrid of alien tech and sheffield steel. i also love that they highlight the ‘mad inventor’ side of the doctor here (her teleportation circuit is based around a microwave?) and wish that they had carried it forward more. it would have been the perfect basis for her to bond with ryan over. jodie also pulls off the humour of the episode well, considering the significant shift from moffat dialogue.

i enjoy thirteen's outfit: the vibrancy of it as mirroring her childish excitability, but also as another part of the mask - if i dress all colourful then maybe i can ignore/outrun/masquerade my great capacity for darkness! etc etc. the shopping trip with yaz and ryan is a bit shoe-horned in at the end but it's cute that she finds it in a charity shop. (back in 2018 i bought a t-shirt with a couple of stripes across the chest solely because it remotely resembled the one she wore lol. nerd from a young age, me.) jodie also looks soo hot in capaldi's outfit though so a spin on the traditional suit would also have been appreciated.

some miscellaneous points: i like that she tells Karl off (“you had no right to do that”) right after saving him. i like that she gets it wrong at first and makes it clear that she’s working on the fly. she’s following her instinct, and that instinct is to help people. doctor who has been beautiful before but the cinematography takes such a huge step this era. “it’s been a long time since i bought women’s clothes” i am choosing to believe this is about river thank you and good night.

[dreamerschroniclesofstories]

Hey love ! Hope you’re having a wonderful day/night 🩷

Could you please do a Tommy X reader where the reader works for him ( it could be his maid or secretary) and someone says something mean to them and they feel so humiliated that they leave. At first Tommy doesn’t know what happened until someone tells him and he goes ballistic and ends up defending her then they end up together 🩷 it could be angst to fluff please :) thank you so much

Sorry for any mistake !! English is not my first language

Hey lovelie! Thank you so much for your ask, I can definitely do that for you!. Hope you guys enjoy.

This fic will be based around season three, this means that Tommy and grace do not get married, in this she had Charles then left Tommy. Also, in this Lizzie is a bitch but its only for the purpose in the fic x.

Summery: request above

Word count: 2,321

When you were twenty, you had graduated from bed-ford college, which was very uncommon since not many people could read or write, but luckily your mother learnt you from a young age how to both which allowed you to complete your studies.

However, this meant that when people found out you were from London and had gone to one of the most prestigious colleges for young women, you were judged. Most people thought you were a privileged woman from a rich family. Unknownst to anyone but yourself, you aren't. You lived in a one bedroom apartment with your mother and two younger sisters. Your father had left your mother ,after your youngest sister was born, for a younger woman.

As you grew up, your mother had become ill, she had began to suffer from Melancholia, as her doctor described it. She never recovered from it and died when you had moved back home after graduating. When your mother died, your young sisters were left in your care and you decided you wanted to leave London and find somewhere else for your sisters to grow up. After nearly four years, you found your current home, Birmingham.

You loved your job, all you had to do was respond to letters for Tommy, make sure his schedule was up to date, make sure there weren’t any over laps and make meetings on his behalf. The only bad part of the job was sharing the room with tommys other secretary, Lizzie stark. At first, when she had started working two weeks after you started. She was nice, you spoke everyday, had lunch together whilst on break but once you started to get closer to Tommy she began to change.

At the beginning, you pretended not to notice, thinking maybe she was just having a bad day but every time you went into tommys office without knocking or every time Tommy comes in work, he stops to speak to you and asks you how your weekends been and how you sisters are, Lizzie would grumble under her breath and when you weren't looking would steal the paperwork Tommy gave you to sort out so she could do it and claim you weren't.

Today was one of the days that Lizzie was being extremely bitchy, it was a Friday afternoon which meant Tommy wasn't in the office most of the day. He was either at a meeting or in the betting shop. This left you and Lizzie alone.

You had just gone into tommys office to put the paperwork Tommy needed on his desk when Lizzie walks in as well.

“ Tommy has a lot of whores, one for each month, which one are you?”she sits down at the round oak table, getting out a cigarette then lights it.

You turn around to look at Lizzie and frowns, not understanding the purpose of this conversation “ what Mr Shelby does in his personal life is none of my business”

“don't act dumb, you know what i'm talking about Y/N” Lizzie spits, venom lacing her voice.

“ i don't think we should be having this conversation when Mr Shelby isn't here, its not appropriate” you asserted, picking up another pile of paperwork, being to walk back to the double doors that leads out to you desk and Lizzie.

The sound of scuffing catches your attention, making you stop walking and look towards Lizzie once again “ get off your high horse Y/N, this is Birmingham everyone is a whore, they don’t have money to act like they are better then everyone” Lizzie barked, pointing a finger at you.

Your heart begins to race, the blood running through your veins begin to rush to your face, causing your cheeks to begin to heat up, it was like someone had turned up your internal thermostat to the maximum and now your face is a shade of red that would make a tomato jealous.

“ i'm sorry if i offended you in some way, i did not intend too” you apologise, you knew you hadn't said anything offensive but you didn't like confrontation and you wanted to avoid yelling in any possible way.

Lizzie takes a drag of her cigarette “ you are so insufferable, i dont know how your family deals with you” she chuckles under her breath.

At the mention of your family, you take a shakey breath and turn away from lizzie “ i need to start this paperwork” . As soon as you sit back at your desk, you began to look through the paperwork but you couldn't concentrate. what Lizzie said to you runs laps in your head, making your chin begin to quiver as your eyes begin to fill with tears.

Unfortunately, at the same time polly walks through the main doors into the building, she walks over to you. Wiping under your eyes quickly,putting a smile on your face.

“ hello Polly, what can i do for you?” you ask softly, your voice breaking slightly as you try to hold in your emotions.

Polly raises an eyebrow and places her purse down on your desk, watching as Lizzie walks out of tommys office with a smirk on her face but as soon as she sees Polly, she quickly covers it with a smile.

“whats happened?” Polly asks, suspicion filling her words, looking between Lizzie and you.

“ nothing pol, just talking business” Lizzie puts on a smile and looks towards you, her eyes widening for a second to tell you not to say anything.

“yes, just business” you agree, nodding slightly.

Polly hums “ if you say so, anyway is Tommy free in the afternoon this week” she asks.

You grab his schedule from your draw and begins to look through this weeks page he's free Wednesday afternoon from two o'clock onwards” you grab your pen “would you like me to write you in for a meeting with him”

Polly smiles and grabs her purse again “ yes, thank you Y/N, your a doll” she kisses your cheek softly then leaves.

The visit from Polly, helped you distract yourself from the situation with Lizzie, you smile happily as you begin to write down the information bout polly's meeting in tommys schedule. As you begin to write in the book, the ink tub falls onto the page causing you to gasp.

You look up and see Lizzie standing in front of your desk, smirking. she lights another cigarette “opps, i guess you'll have to tell Tommy you ruined his book” she tuts, shaking her head.

Once again, your pulse begins to race, your heart starts to beat so incredibly loudly, louder then gunshots. Your hands shake as you begin to try and pat the ink with her handkerchief but it wasn't working.

“no,no,no” your eyes begin to well up with tears for the second time, in less them an hour. You look up at Lizzie, disbelief in your eyes.

“ why would you do that, this has all of Tommy's schedules” you ask astonished.

“ you don't belong here, I've known Tommy before you even were in Birmingham, i should be sat in your chair. Everyday i have to see you prim and proper, giggling at Tommy” Lizzie rants angrily.

Unknownst, to both of them. Polly was still behind the door listening to the conversation. she knew something was wrong so she wanted to listen in case they were hiding something.

Polly leaves the office, determined to find Tommy to tell him what she heard between his secretaries. however, she couldn't find him.

It had been a few hours since the incident, you were quiet s you write a letter to Tommy, you have decided to leave your position of head secretary, you couldn't cope with the daily taunting from Lizzie.

The sound of the door opening and close catches both of the women's attention, you stand up immediately when you see Tommy.

“ Mr Shelby, i need to speak with you if that's alright” you ask softly as you walk around your desk, to stand beside Tommy.

Tommy nods and lights the cigarette that was resting between his lips “ come through to my office miss Y/N” he gently places his hand on the small of your back as you begin to walk to his office with him.

As the door to his office closes, you didn't notice Lizzie watching you. Her eyes like daggers.

“please sit” Tommy nods to the chair by his desk as he sits in his own chair, slowly blowing out the smoke from his mouth. You gulp and nod, sitting down slowly on the cold brown leather seat. the coldness helping to cool down your skin.

“ I've been thinking for the past couple of weeks, and i didn't want to do this but its the best thing for me” you explain, nervously fiddling with the letter in your hands. Your hand shake as you give Tommy the letter “ i'm giving in my notice as Secretary, i will be leaving this company after we finish this conversation”

Tommy frowns, taking the letter gently “ may i ask why” he raises an eyebrow, looking towards your direction. you end up making eye contact for the first time during this conversation.

You smile slightly, your eyes showing that you were distressed “ no reason, i just feel ready to move on”

The next day

Tommy had organised a company/ family meeting, he had some business to talk about. Lizzie had to sit in the meeting since you use to but now you had left your position, no one else can do it.

Tommy had ordered two peaky blinders to watch your flat, wanting you to be protected since people knew you were associated with them.

The meeting had started nearly half an hour ago, however Polly just noticed Lizzie sitting at the table. She frowns “ Thomas, where is Y/N?”

Tommy sighs and leans against the wall, taking out his cigarette holder then opens it “Y/N has decided to move on with her career and no longer work for me” he announces.

Polly raises an eyebrow, glancing at Lizzie, seeing her smirk slightly “ have something to say Lizzie?” her voice full of bitter.

Lizzie shakes her head, no saying anything. Tommy nods and lights his cigarette “ Lizzie, by tomorrow afternoon i need an advert in the paper for a new head secretary” he explains.

Lizzie frowns “you're looking for someone else, i thought i would take that position” she admits.

Polly chuckles and shakes her head “ is that why you forced Y/N to leave? or is it because you want to fuck Thomas?” she quizzes.

Lizzie blushes slightly as Tommy raises an eyebrow and looks towards her.

“is that right Lizzie?” he asks, his eyes turning cold.

“ it wasn't fair Thomas, she came in and you gave her the job straight away without even knowing her” she snaps, putting down her pen. The room went quiet after lizzies confession.

“you were jealous of her so you made her feel bad about herself so much that she left her job? ey? are you fucking proud of yourself” his voice begins to rise as he speaks.

“it wasn't-” Lizzie begins to defend herself when Tommy interrupts her.

“ By the end of today, i want your desk cleared and you stuff gone, you're fired” he points to the door as he speaks, Polly smirking as she watches Lizzie stand up and rush out of the door. As soon as Lizzie left, a blinder rushes into the room.

“Tommy, shes leaving. we followed her to the train station. shes got bags and her sisters are with her as well” he states, catching his breath.

Tommy immediately grabs his coat and cap, rushing out of the betting shop.

At the train station

The sound of people yelling and rushing to and from trains fills your ears as you carry your bags, your sisters infront of her, walking towards the platform where your train back to London would arrive. The clunking and screeching of train engines makes you flinch slightly, you never get use to that sound.

Your train was due for another hour but you wanted to have enough time for your sisters to say goodbye to their friends before you went to the train station.

As you sat on the bench with your sisters, you didn’t hear Tommy calling your name since the platform was extremely loud. However, in the corner of your eye you see him walking over.

“ girls, stay here” you instruct, standing up.

You walk over to Tommy, looking up at him as you both stand infront of each other. However, you didn’t have time to say anything before Tommy kisses you. You didn’t know what to do at first but after a few seconds you felt your shoulders relax as you ease into the kiss.

Time slows, your lips felt like they were made to connect with each other. The feeling of Tommys hand on your cheek causes goosebumps to arrise on your skin. You had wanted his mouth on your for months, but now it’s happening, you want to savour the moment.

Your lips part softly, chasing tommys as he pulls away “ what was that for?” You whisper, biting your lip ever so softly.

“ I should have done it awhile ago” he whispers, stroking your cheek bone gently “ come back, I know what happened, lizzies gone” he explains, looking into his eyes. His pupils blown.

You smile, chuckling under your breath “ okay” you whisper, putting your hand over his.

Tommy brushes his pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. A silent harmony parts your lips as a soundless breath leaves your mouth. Your eye lids slide shut as Tommy leans in, brushing his lips across yours, feeling the coldness of his skin, like snowflakes trundling down from the sky. The soft pillow of your mouth gives Tommy the pressure that he longed for.

This is the light at the end of the tunnel, and you’re so glad you survived.

A/N: hey guys, I don’t really like this one. It feels rushed and it’s unedited so there are a lot of grammar and spelling mistakes. Please do like and comment, I appreciate all of your support ❤️

[phoward89]

Platonic!Crassus Snow, Dark!Crassus Snow, Newborn!Daughter!Reader

Based on this ask.

General Crassus Snow was a cold, stern, strict, no nonsense military man. He made a career out of the military, just like his father and his father before him. His younger brother also chose the military path.

Cadmus had married right after graduating the Academy, had a baby, and then signed up for the Peacekeepers only to be stationed in 12, where the Snow family patriarch Commander Xanthos Snow oversaw the Peacekeepers of the coalmine district. One of Crassus' best friends, Javani Halvir, was serving as an officer in 12 underneath the command of Xanthos Snow- so of course he agreed to keep an eye out on his friend's younger brother while said friend attended the University to study Military Strategies.

Once Crassus had graduated University with a degree in Military Strategies (thanks to stealing his friend Casca Highbottom’s paper of drunken and horrendous ideas for a punishment so dire for one's enemies that those enemies would never rise up against then again) he enlisted into the Peacekeepers as an officer, did a couple months of officer's training, and was sent to PK Base-D12 to serve under his father; alongside his brother and his buddy.

In time Xanthos retired and went back to his Corso penthouse in the Capitol, causing Crassus to become the new Commander. And while visiting his family during leave he had a very fast courtship with a young woman that he was introduced to by his former friend Casca before he joined the military. And of course, that courtship resulted in a marriage and the birth of an heir.

A male heir named Coriolanus.

Shortly after Coriolanus' birth Xanthos Snow died. Sadly, Crassus was unable to get time off to attend the funeral, but he sent his buddy Colonel Javani Halvir and his family in his stead.

Crassus ran the Peacekeepers in District 12 for 5 years until the districts rebelled and war broke out. A war that he was forced to fight in. But he had studied Military Strategies just for the occasion such as a war. A general must be prepared and ready.

The rebels bombed the Capitol, hoping to weaken the city. Sadly, that air strike resulted in Demeter Snow, the young, beautiful, vapid wife of Crassus to go into unexpected and premature labor. With no help, since a doctor was unable to make it due to the bombs, the family cook and Grandma’am (Crassus' mother) had to help her deliver the baby.

Despite being weeks early and small, the baby survived her birth. Tragically, Demeter didn't. She hemorrhaged and died.

Her death shook up the entire Snow family. Grandma'am had already lost one daughter-in-law and now she lost another. And poor Coriolanus lost his mother while Trigris Snow lost her Auntie, who was like a mother to her.

Grandma'am knew she had to call up her son and tell him the news. News she knew would upset him, considering he had just lost his younger brother weeks earlier in a small skirmish against the rebels near the mines. Cadmus was there, along with a few other men, to ensure rebels wouldn't uprise and take over the mine. But sadly the rebels attacked and slaughtered the handful of peacekeepers tasked with safeguarding the mine.

After receiving the call from his mother, Crassus put his Colonel in charge and took an emergency leave to Capitol City, Panem to attend his wife's funeral and check up on his only living family.

“Crassus, come see your daughter.” Grandma'am told her son after treating him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek once he entered the penthouse.

Crassus wasn't too happy about having a second child. He already had his heir so he didn't see the news for another child.

And especially a girl.

Daughter's weren't as valuable as sons in society, so in his mind the newborn baby was useless. A beast of burden even.

“I don't need to see her, mother.” Crassus coldly bite out while making his way to his study.He was in town for the funeral and had to make quick arrangements for it so we he knew his mother hadn't done that yet.

All Grandma'am did was have the coroner take Demeter's lifeless body to the funeral home, but didn't set the funeral arrangements in motion. She told the mortician that her son would handle it when he got to town.

His mother's lucky that he was able to entrust the base and the troops in Javani's hands otherwise she'd be planning a funeral or enlisting the help of the neighbor Pluribus to do it.

“You need to see your daughter that Demeter died giving you before you make calls and arrangements for her.” Grandma'am lectured her son in a firm motherly way while following right behind him as he strolled down the hall towards his personal office.

“That baby's not going anywhere, she'll still be in her crib when I'm done.”

“Crassus, Demeter would want you to see that precious baby girl of yours before calling the funeral parlor on her account.”

“Mother…” Crassus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off his growing frustrations. He couldn't tell his mother that he didn't care about his newborn daughter, not so soon after his wife's death; it would just send her into a tailspin.

Coming up to her son's side and giving him a motherly smack on his arm, the old woman dressed in her fineries seriously told her son, “Crassus Xanthos Snow, you're going into the nursery and you're going to hold your daughter even if I have to drag you by the ear to do it.”

“Mother, you're too short to be dragging me by the ears.” Crassus dryly chuckles. But he knows his mother's not amused by the way she cuts her eyes at him. At any minute she'll start lecturing him, which is something he wants to avoid. So, with a heavy sigh, the general relents. “Fine, let's go to the nursery.”

Grandma'am opened the door to the nursery, which was also her granddaughter Tigris' room. The young girl offered to share her room with her newborn baby cousin once the topic of where the crib should be placed came up. The kind hearted girl was so selfish in doing that.

Crassus walked by his mother and into the room, only for Grandma'am to join him. He spotted the crib in the corner right away. In fact, it was the same old wooden crib that was used for his son Coriolanus- hell for him and his late younger brother too.

The side of the room the mahogany crib was at had a couple of floral pictures hanging on the wall for a girlie decor. On the other side of the room was his niece's twin bed, her desk, her notebook, and various fashion doodles displayed on the wall.

Oh, how the decor in the room seemed to be split right down the middle, just like a rock.

“Crassus, come.” His mother told him, linking her arm in his and dragging him over to the sleeping newborn.

Crassus looked down at his newborn daughter and immediately realized that she was too small due to coming early. That his daughter would need to put weight on and fast if were to survive the winter. He didn't say a word, just bent down to pick up his daughter.

He honestly didn't want to hold her, but did because his mother was at his side and he didn't want to hear her lecture him.

Crassus cradled his newborn in his arms, only for the baby to blink open her eyes and look up at him.

Crassus was melted by the innocent look on his daughters eyes.

In your eyes.

Yes, you're the daughter of the ruthless, cold hearted, stern, and hateful General Crassus Snow. A man that locked his heart behind a frozen wall of ice. One that a single look from you melted.

The innocence in your eyes reminded him of a girl he once loved. And he vowed to be a good father to you.

But he didn't vow to be a good father to your older brother, Coriolanus. In fact, Crassus felt that his son was a weakling that needed to toughen up. But in your case, Crassus wanted to protect you from the world because all the world’s an arena and not everyone in it has good intentions.

Crassus never thought he wanted a second child let alone a daughter, but just one look from you and your father was vowing to protect you with his life.

Y/N Snow, the second child of Crassus and Demeter Snow; the darling miracle baby that brings joy amongst the ruins of death.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @lady-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[maaarine]

Afghan women in mental health crisis over bleak future (Yogita Limaye, BBC News, June 05 2023)

""We have a pandemic of suicidal thoughts in Afghanistan. The situation is the worst ever, and the world rarely thinks or talks about it," says psychologist Dr Amal.

"When you read the news, you read about the hunger crisis, but no-one talks about mental health. It's like people are being slowly poisoned. Day by day, they're losing hope." (…)

It's extremely hard to get people to talk about suicide, but six families have agreed to tell us their stories.

Nadir is one of them. He tells us his daughter took her own life on the first day of the new school term in March this year.

"Until that day, she had believed that schools would eventually reopen for girls. She had been sure of it. But when that didn't happen, she couldn't cope and took her own life," he says.

"She loved school. She was smart, thoughtful and wanted to study and serve our country. When they closed schools, she became extremely distressed and would cry a lot." (…)

The father of a woman in her early twenties told us what he believes was the reason behind his daughter's suicide.

"She wanted to become a doctor. When schools were closed, she was distressed and upset," he says.

"But it was after she wasn't allowed to sit for the university entrance exam, that's when she lost all hope. It's an unbearable loss," he adds, then pauses abruptly and begins to cry.

The other stories we hear are similar - girls and young women unable to cope with their lives, and futures coming to a grinding halt. (…)

A study done in Herat province by the Afghanistan Centre for Epidemiological Studies, released in March this year, has shown that two-thirds of Afghan adolescents reported symptoms of depression."

[hobunaga]

UPDATED VERSION, thank you @guzhufuren for the additional info!!!

my friend wanted me to make a chart of, Meet you at the Blossom, characters and what their relationship is. Now I don't know everything, I don't even know if I got the names correct but I hope this clarifies a little what is going on here.

here are some clarifications(careful, spoilers)

Xiaobao's parents: Xiaobao's dad found Xiaobao's mom wandering around town one day and assumed she was the daughter of a wealthy family and had lived a really sheltered life(she is). He got her drunk, they slept together and he took responsibility by marrying her and taking care of her.

Tong'en: Now I don't know for sure if she loved any of the men that I attached her to, but they were in love with her so I kinda just added it in case her feelings were genuine or if she was only doing what she had to to survive. The only person I can confirm she truly cared for is Zongzheng Qiyuan and they had a brotherly and sisterly bond only.

Xue Xiaoyu: Now ya'll might be wondering why she has a red line towards Xiaobao and it's kinda given that she has a big crush on him. Her cousin however is his true love so I think she'll put on her big girl pants eventually and move on. Her brother is Xue Lianyu, Xiaobao's best friend. She is also the cousin of Huai'en.

Que Siming and Jinbao: They have 2 names cause in the extra I read, they had changed their names at least once. Jinbao was originally known as Wang Erhu and Que Siming was called Yue Siming. Que Siming was most likely adopted by the doctor whom was caring for him after his father was sentenced for treason and Jinbao was sold to Xiaobao at a young age.

Jinbao and Zhao Cai and Que Siming: Similar to the Xiaobao, Su Yin, and Huai'en jealousy trope, Que Siming's jealousy is mainly centered around Jinbao and Zhao Cai's relationship. Now I don't know if Jinbao has a thing for Zhao Cai, but Jinbao maybe masturbated to Zhao Cai once??? or Zhao Cai ran into him while he was masturbating??? I don't know... if someone can interpret this scene let me know because English is not my first language.

Zhao Cai and Medicine Girl: In Jinbao's side story, Jinbao Marries a Wife, it was stated that Zhao Cai was in a heated relationship with this medicine girl and frequently went out to see her during the time Xiaobao was still sick with the cold needle poison. I don't know if they end up together at the end but it was the only relationship that was mentioned in the story for him.

Shaoyu and Su Yin: So apparently there is a one sided interest in their interactions according to the awe inspiring @guzhufuren . When I read it, I wasn't sure how to exactly interpret their relationship but I can see it now that Shaoyu is just as obsessive and possessive as his older brother is. Good luck getting away, Su Yin!

Shaoyu and Huai'en: Half brothers with a somewhat refreshing ending in the live action that hints that there is a possibility of them bonding later in the future. Now I'm not sure which woman mothered Shaoyu, but I'm going to assume it's the ex empress which makes them half-brothers(well Tong'en only birthed one child so it's a given). Now usually if the mother loses the favor of the emperor to even be demoted out of being empress, that must mean that it heavily affects Shaoyu's standing as crown prince as well. Luckily no other princes were mentioned so it's more likely that Huai'en won't compete for the throne and Shaoyu will still inherit it.

The Zongzhen 4 brothers: Now they're just fucking insane and the only sane one is Zongzhen Qiyuan. Even the emperor is a little cuckoo but hey, that's what stress does to you right? They need to sit down, relax, and chill a little. I'm so glad two of them greatly support Huai'en's decisions.

ps: I'm sorry if I got the names wrong or I didn't name a few of the characters. Either way, I think this is the relationship chart?

[adopteewho]

TYING TOGETHER THE DETAILS OF THE FIRST DOCTOR’S EARLY CHILDHOOD

(I recommend clicking the GIFS if you want to watch them from the start as even off screen they continue)

While Chibnall was the first to explicitly confirm that the Doctor is care experienced (an umbrella term for foster care, adoption, kinship, residential care, special guardianship) he wasn’t the first to introduce that idea.

In the Series 8 episode Listen written by Steven Moffat, the TARDIS went to the early part of the First Doctor’s life, when he was a young boy sleeping in a barn he’d ran to outside of the Capitol, and was visited by two unseen people.

With how the Woman calls the place that the Doctor had run away from a house and refers to the children living there not as the Doctor’s brothers but as the boys, this implies that the Doctor was living in a children’s care home, and those two people who came to him were likely the care workers of the house.

With what this care worker says, it might’ve been a military orphanage he was living in. That could be what all orphanages on Gallifrey are like which wouldn’t be surprising, or that care worker was just forcing his own interest onto the Doctor and the other children.

Either way, the glimpse we saw of the First Doctor’s childhood was paralleling what we saw earlier in the episode of Danny Pink, who lived in a children’s care home as a boy with an interest of the army.

The Doctor having been in a children’s home fits perfectly with what Reinette said after glimpsing the Doctor’s childhood, because feelings of loneliness are common for those who grow up in care homes.

How the First Doctor ended up in the home, I think that could be answered by what the Ninth Doctor said in The Empty Child.

I think after Tecteun mind-wiped and force regenerated the Doctor into a baby boy, she dumped him at the doorstep of the children’s home. And whether Time Lords are natural or machine born, she fabricated a birth record so he believed he had been born like everyone else. To add, I doubt the Doctor is the only Time Lord and Division Operative to have been reset because of no longer aligning with Division.

We know from multiple references that the First Doctor had a family and a family home.

“Well, when I was a little boy, we used to live in a house that was perched halfway up the top of a mountain” - 3rd Doctor, The Time Monster

“I was with my father, it was a warm Gallifreyan night” - 8th Doctor, TV Movie

“Have you got a brother” - Martha
“No, not anymore. Just me” - 10th Doctor, Smith and Jones

“But of course it’s meant to be the Doctor’s mother. That’s certainly what I’ll tell the production team. Euros knows it already. David, too” - RTD in The Writer’s Tale about the Woman in The End of Time

“Sisters. I used to have sisters” - 13th Doctor, Arachnids in the UK

“I had seven, but grannie five, my favourite, used to tell me about the Solitract” - 13th Doctor, It Takes You Away

This means that the Doctor wouldn’t have been in the children’s home for his entire childhood. Some time before he went to the Academy, he was either fostered or adopted by a family who lived in the house perched halfway up a mountain.

Some fans say that the Doctor not being from Gallifrey means that the Woman in The End of Time can’t be the Doctor’s mother. But I think what they mean by that is that she can’t be his birth mother, but there’s no issue with that. Whether the Woman was the Doctor’s adoptive or foster mother, that doesn’t make them less of a mother, a mother is mother no matter what kind, the scene and the intent still has the exact same impact as it had before, a mother helping their child in their time of need. My mother (adoptive) would go to the ends of the Earth for me, and I her. And I think it’s better that she wasn’t his birth mother because it means we haven’t seen one of two people who are the reason for the Doctor’s existence, adding to the mystery of their identity and origins.

And some time after being adopted or fostered, the Doctor goes to the Academy, graduates, has a family of his own as a father and grandfather, then for multiple reasons decides to run away from Gallifrey with his granddaughter Susan and the rest as they say is history.

[yall-batman-fanfic]

The Wrath of Wayne | Bruce Wayne/Batman x OC!Magician [Part 1/3]

Synopsis: Brought to the dimension where his son is alive, Thomas Wayne makes it goal to put a stop on Bruce being Batman – and he will do it in whatever means necessary.

The speedster brought him here for a reason. He didn’t know what or why but the moment he saw him—them—he knew what it was. For the Reverse Flash it was revenge on the Bat for killing him, but for him… For him, this was what it was. His purpose. His son. The son he lost that day in Crime Alley, when Joe Chill shot him. The son whose death drove him to break his vows as a doctor and don the identity of the Batman to kill every criminal in that godforsaken city. The son whose death drove his wife to insanity until she became his very enemy. 

His love.

His nemesis.

The Joker.

He didn’t need to ask the speedster, who was long gone, nor the computer in his cowl to know that that man sitting on the roof lying on the ground with a woman in his arms was his son. He knew those eyes anywhere, and he imagined how Bruce would look like when he grows up from the moment the boy was born. 

Alfred would tell him countless times how Bruce looked so much like him from the photos of when he was young. With that in mind, Thomas Wayne imagined the face of his son if he had lived. If he had survived that night in Crime Alley. 

He was about to go to his son, to finally meet him, but then Bruce got up and put on his clothes, along with the red-haired woman who laid beside him on that cold roof. 

So, in this universe it was Bruce who took the cowl, then that means he was the one to witness death. It was Thomas and Martha who died that night in Crime Alley in this dimension. But that wasn’t all, the woman with him, Thomas knew that face all too well. Vivian. 

The young professor in Gotham University.

The witch.

The last good soul in Gotham.

His last ray of hope and reminder of his son and of Selina.

In this world, Bruce found Vivian and the two were in some sort of relationship, one he would later realize was in matrimony. The two have been married for decades and despite it, the wife and kids, and one they had just a year prior, Bruce kept the cowl. He kept being Batman.

Why?

Why wasn’t Vivian stopping him?

His Vivian told him to stop and when he didn’t she left, and just as she did — just like the others — she was taken from his world. Car accident, a drunk driver on the road. Thomas didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger on him the moment he saw her lifeless body on the ground. 

How tragic. A woman with unlimited power killed by a car accident.

With that image in mind, Thomas knew what he had to do to save his son and the family he built. Bruce Wayne needed to stop being Batman. And how does he do that?

The only way he knows how to… he’ll bring him pain.

~*~

Waynes rise. Those were the words that Vivian remembered whenever she would walk past the Wayne family sigil in their library, which was actually a monogram of their family name, with the latin phrase of: resurgimus. We rise. 

A motto that the Wayne family kept from its founder and until it's living line. Bruce lived up to that phrase, even if he claims he mostly forgot about that phrase Bruce lived up to it. In every adversary he faced, and every rock-bottom he fell to, Bruce Wayne—Batman—rises. Stubbornness, Vivian would tease him whenever she could, but really it’s how he has always been. Defeat was not something that Bruce knows. Nor the world helps. It took her years before she could get him to ask her for help. It would often sound like a command, until, finally, he said “I need your help”. 

“What are you doing here?” Bruce asked as he entered the library. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Val’s even had Ace and Echo and Gregory on the search.”

“Mumma!” Valerie reached out for her mother from where she sat on her father’s shoulders.

Smiling, Vivian took her daughter and engulfed her in an embrace, making the girl giggle. “Did you miss me?”

As a reply, Valerie kissed her mother’s cheek and played with her hair.

“Sorry,” Vivian said to Bruce. “I was… I don’t know, I had a — I had this feeling, like, something was calling me to come here.”

“To the library?”

“Yeah. I still don’t know what but it brought me here.”

To the sigil and to the portrait of his parents. 

“Is it bad?” Bruce asked, taking her hand.

“I don’t know. Sorry, not really helpful, huh?” Vivian shrugged.

“Maybe something is happening with the Endless, do you want to go and see?”

“No, if there is something Dream would come and get me. If he doesn’t, then it means they have it under control. Come on, let’s head down stairs, we promised the others a family dinner tonight.”

“Okay,” Bruce said but before they could leave, he pulled Vivian to him, covered Valerie’s eyes with his hand–making the girl whine–and kissed his wife. “If there’s anything, let me know.”

Smiling, Vivian kissed him again and said, “I will. Okay, okay, Dada, get your hand off of Val’s face before she gets fussy.”

Bruce removed his hand from Valerie’s eyes and the girl pouted at him. She’ll get over it after a while, Bruce said and joined his wife and daughter downstairs to be with their family. 

Unbeknownst to them, a figure stood not far from Wayne Manor, hidden in the blindspot of the security Bruce made for their home, and saw everything. This was the life his son was willing to risk for the sake of wearing that cowl?! A family, a happy life with a wife and daughter! A life with her! What can be better than this? Why risk it?

The thought itself erased every doubt he had in his plan. It was dirty and risky but Thomas Wayne knew it was the only way.

~ * ~

“I thought Falcone retired, isn’t he, like, a hundred years old now?” Nightwing mused as they chased up on a lead they got from the movements made by the notorious and oldest crime family in Gotham, that was far from their M.O.

“As long as he’s breathing, Carmine Falcone won’t stop trying to get control over Gotham,” said Batman through their comms as they watched from the rooftop as Falcone’s men pulled out of the warehouses to make the deliveries. Of what? That’s what they were going to find out, but first they needed to trace that delivery to where it was going.

Batman wouldn’t admit it but that night he saw Vivian staring at his parents’ portrait that had the Wayne family sigil on the frame  reminded him of the night of Mammon creeping out of hell to get to her. It brought bad omens to him, even when he didn’t believe in them at all. But after experience, seeing Vivian in a trance, feeling things she couldn’t understand meant something was coming. 

The vans that Falcone’s men drove to the harbor warehouse were filled with guns. Normal to find from them, Falcone deals with them too, but with that amount, along with the explosives, it was concerning. 

“This is more than just a delivery,” said Tim who met with them at the warehouse. “This is enough to supply a whole army.”

“Whose army?” Dick asked. 

Good question, and it was Jason who gave the answer.

“Maroni wouldn’t get these, and Mask has his own suppliers. There haven’t been any movements in the underground either, which means –”

“This is for them… all of this is theirs,” Batman concluded.

“A turf war?” Damian scoffed. “Have they learned nothing?”

“Not at this scale. Falcone has enough to arm every citizen of Gotham… but why? Why make this bold move?”

“It isn’t like him either,” Tim added. “He’s the type of guy who likes to play puppet. Remember the last mayor?”

“The one under Falcone’s pocket? Hard to forget, he kind of drove us out of Gotham for a while,” Jason shrugged.

“We’ll call it a night for now. Red Hood, I need you to keep looking in the underground, ask around if needed but do not engage,” said Batman.

Jason made a mocking salute. “I know that coming home was a bad idea.”

“Come on, chum, don’t act like  you don’t like it here,” Dick teased him.

“Shut it!”

~ * ~

Thomas Wayne remembered Carmine Falcone from his dimension. Like in this one, he too saved Falcone from a gunshot wound which made some sort of a connection between the Waynes and the crime family. Thomas thought of nothing on what Carmine’s father said about the Falcones and Waynes having been bonded with this act of kindness that saved his son, and he hasn’t thought of it for decades until now. 

Unlike the version of Carmine Falcone in his dimension, this one was alive and didn’t have a bullet hole between his brows. He was the one to pull the trigger that night when he went after every crime lord in Gotham. Here, Carmine had his control over the city, not as strong as it was when Bruce had not don the cape and cowl but he had his money and connections in the government. 

That was all he needed. 

When he visited Falcone that night, the man nearly had a heart attack when he took off his mask. Thomas Wayne, Falcon couldn’t believe his eyes when Thomas Wayne walked up to Falcone with his cowl down and the face of an old man. 

“Sei morto!” Falcone exclaimed.

He was. He never felt alive again after the death of his son.Truth be told he’s been a walking corpse for decades until he met Vivian Pryor, then he died again after she, too, passed. 

“You said our families are connected after that night… I’m here to collect a debt,” said Thomas.

He told him his plans, the secrets of his family and in return, Falcone promised silence. No one will know about what they talked about behind those doors, and if he ever says a word about those secrets he won’t hesitate to blow Falcone’s brains all over the carpet. With the goal in mind, Thomas let the man do his work, and as Falcone collected what he needed and plant tend to the seed that they have planted, Thomas made a risk.

He went to see Vivian.

Vivian likes taking Valerie out of the estate and walk around the park where she can play with the other kids her age. Jason has told her stop doing it after the incident of some pedophile taking photos of kids in the park, but Vivian promised to be extra careful, besides Val was missing the company of other kids too. While being born to one of the richest family in Gotham, living the life that can be associated to a royal, Vivian wanted her daughter to have the same childhood that she had. Or better.

She wanted her to meet kids and play with them.

She wanted her to trip and fall and get back on her feet with muddy shoes and clothes.

She wanted Valerie to have a sense of normalcy which was far from what their household could offer.

“Val, be careful now!” Vivian called out to her daughter as one-and-a-half-year-old Valerie held on the seesaw handle while playing with the other kids. 

Cassandra and Duke, who joined them that day, got up from their seats and decided to join the kids at the seesaw, just to add weight and get it to actually work. With Duke holding Valerie, and Cassandra holding the other kids, they went up and down, getting laughter from the young ones.

“How old is she?” A man’s voice broke Vivian’s gaze from her daughter. The man stood just beside the bench she sat on, he wore a white shirt, had a thick-white bead, thick glasses, and a baseball hat.

Vivian didn’t answer, she only looked at the man with a quizzical gaze.

“I’m not a creep, if that’s what you’re worried about…” the man said, his voice a little familiar but she couldn’t put a finger on it. Why is that? “She reminds me of my granddaughter.”

“Where is she? Your granddaughter?” Vivian finally spoke.

The image of the accident flashed in his eyes. Thomas Wayne had to shake his head to rid of the sight of Vivian’s mangled body and focus on the Vivian that sat there, alive… and married to his son.

“Car accident. She and her mother were in a car accident.”

No lies, Vivian sensed. Just sadness.

“I’m so sorry,” Vivian said. “But I still can’t give you my daughter’s age, I’m sure you understand that.”

Thomas chuckled. “I do. And that’s smart of you. You’ll never know, right?”

“Yeah… ever since she was born, everyone wanted a piece of her. The press, Gotham, and even those disgusting people… my son – one of my sons – was against the idea of me taking her here but she would always ask if we’ll go to the park so she can play with the others.”

“She’s friends with everyone,” he observed the girl as she laughed with the other kids.

“Yes, she is… sometimes I wonder where she got it.”

“I’m sure it’s from her mother.”

Vivian was always welcoming. Always finding a way to start a conversation. It was those talks that had him drawn to her.

“My husband says the same thing,” Vivian chuckled.

Right… Vivian married Bruce in this world.

“I see… she looks a lot like you.”

“Really? It’s more of a mix.”

It was but all Thomas could see was Vivian in the girl’s face. The smile, the eyes, and even the laugh. When he saw Valerie had enough of the seesaw and was gesturing for Duke that she wanted to go down, Thomas knew that his time was up.

“Are you happy?” Thomas asked before Duke and Cassandra would return with Valerie.

“What?”

“Are you happy with this life of yours? Is it perfect?”

“Perfect? Perfect is too much to use something to describe life… nothing can be perfect, even gods can't be perfect, there are bumps along the way, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. So, yes, I am happy.”

“You have no regrets?”

“None.”

Thomas frowned. “I see.” He hesitated with his next question, wondering if it was worth it to give himself that pain of knowing. “And your husband, does he make you happy?”

Vivian looked at him in question and answered, “Very much. I wouldn’t imagine a life without him… I couldn’t. Bruce is everything to me.”

His Vivian never said those things to him. Maybe with good reason too. Maybe Vivian Pryor will always be for Bruce Wayne, no matter in whatever dimension they are. If one of them is gone, it won’t be long until the other is too.

“I think your kid is coming in hot.”

Vivian turned to Valerie and saw her running towards her, before Val could stumble, Vivian got down and caught the girl in her arms. 

“Did you have fun?” Vivian asked as she wiped the sweat off of Valerie’s forehead.

“Dada?” Valerie asked, her gaze over Vivian’s shoulder following the silhouette of the broad-shouldered man that was leaving.

“Okay, let’s head home to Dada,” Vivian carried Valerie in her arms and asked Duke and Cassandra to bring the baby bag. Just as they were to leave, Vivian turned to the direction of the man but he was gone as if he was never there.

Strange.

Very strange.

And it was only now that she realized how strange it was to have his presence around her. It wasn’t normal. 

“Mom,” Cassandra called for her.

“Yeah?”

“Is everything alright, Mrs. P?” Duke asked her.

“Yeah, everything is fine,” Vivian said. “Let’s go home.”

~ * ~

“You’ve been distracted lately,” The sound of her husband’s voice pulled Vivian from her reverie. Before she could turn to him, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her nape. “What is that?”

“What is what?” Vivian asked.

Leaning in, Bruce blew hot hair on the glass panel of their bedroom window. A symbol appeared, it had two faces that were inside-profile and attached to each other at the back of their heads. The symbol of Janus. The god of gates and doorways, beginnings, endings, transitions, time, duality, passages, and frame.

“Vivian, what's going on?” Bruce asked, worry laced in his voice.

“I honestly don't know… I've been feeling off lately. And this symbol, it's Janus.”

“The god of doorways.”

“And many other things that associate with doors, transitions, time, passage…”

“Gates to other dimensions?” Bruce guessed.

“A stretch but given the things we deal with almost every week, yes.”

“I'll head to the League to see if there is any disruptions in our readings,” said Bruce.

“Val misses you,” Vivian began. “I miss you. Can't this be done through a call instead?”

Bruce looked at his wife and saw the sadness in her eyes. She didn't want him to leave. All day she's been feeling this and while she had Valerie and their other children, she didn't feel as safe as she would be when he was around. Taking off his jacket, Bruce wrapped it around her and brought Vivian to an embrace.

“I'll contact J'onn and ask for a report. Unless he says there is, I'll stay here and tomorrow I'll head to the Tower,” he told her.

Vivian nodded to his conditions. “I'm fine with that.”

“Do you need a distraction?”

“This is all I need,” she brought him to an embrace. “But thank you, I might consider it tonight.”

“If that's the case,” Bruce reached down and lifted Vivian off the ground, and had her wrap her legs around him as he carried her to their bed. “Val's asleep already, and Dick said he'll take lead on patrols tonight, and Alfred's resting, we have some time to ourselves.”

When her back felt the bed, Vivian welcomed Bruce's kisses and said to him, “Just lay beside me, my love.”

“I will, but let me kiss you first,” he said between kisses.

When he was sure he has kissed every inch of her on her face, her neck and her chest, Bruce laid in bed and had Vivian in his arms. They stayed there in silence and only listened to each other's breathing. As she held her husband, Vivian thought back to the man who approached her at the park bench asking her about her life, her family, and her husband.

Was this a perfect life? Far from it. But she was happy. She said it to Bruce countless times how, for the first time since her mother died, she felt whole again. Being with him filled that emptiness. There was no other life she would imagine.

~ * ~

It wasn't the alert from the Justice League on any anomaly nor from the Dick on the case with Falcone. It was Barbara who woke from his sleep with a panicked voice saying that Arkham Asylum is rioting. Every prisoner--patient--there were free. Bruce jumped out of bed immediately, picking up his clothes from the floor as he made his way to the wardrobe where he kept one of his uniforms.

Following her husband, Vivian dragged along the blanket they shared to cover her nude body and watched as he put on the suit, the cape, the belt, but before he could put on the cowl, she took it from his hands, letting he blanket fall to the ground, then got on her toes to kiss his lips and said, “stay safe, and come back.”

She knew the gravity of this emergency, she heard it from Barbara's voice, and the last time Bruce had to face something this serious he almost never made it back. It reminded her of the many times she almost lost him.

But he was Batman.

He is a Wayne.

And Waynes rise.

“I will,” Bruce promised her. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close to kiss her again, deeply this time.

Breaking the kiss, Vivian placed the cowl over his head, masking the half of his face. 

Taking the robe he offered from her closet, Vivian joined Bruce as he walked to their daughter's nursery. He carefully bent down to lift Valerie from her bed and kissed her cheek. Valerie smiled in her sleep and whispered, “Dada,” and nuzzled close to her father's face.

“I'll be back, Val,” Bruce told her before setting her down in her crib and went to the cave. The last Vivian saw him was getting in the Batmobile and driving away, leaving her with Alfred and their daughter with no way of knowing of what's to come. 

~ * ~

Thomas Wayne knew of Vivian's parentage. The Vivian from his world told him about it at one of the nights where he found a moment of happiness. The one he used to have with his wife, but now he found it with another woman. It was wrong, given their age difference, but he can say she enchanted him. Maybe it was her magic---he'd like to think that just to justify what they did---but he knew it was simply him unable to control himself.

Even a man who has lived a nightmare and has fallen into this pit yearns for happiness, even if it was just for one moment. 

“My Mother is a witch,” she told him when he asked about her tattoo. “An immortal witch. Rather, she was one. She was born during the first settlement of Gotham, almost got burned for being a witch. Then centuries later, she caught the attention of the God of Dreams, Morpheus, and they had me. Morpheus wanted to take me with him because of the power I had, but my mom refused, so she hid me from him with some spell.”

From then on, Thomas Wayne read about the God of Dreams, their kind, and learned about the history of Roderick Burgess, a man who was also know as the Magus, and for trapping the Devil in his basement. But that Devil turned out to be Lord Dream himself. He used a book called the Magdalene Grimoire to trap the Endless in a circle. 

He found the Magdalene Grimoire, read through its pages then and kept it with him. 

In this world, it took him days to find the Magdalene Grimoire, and connections in the underground. It was the Ventriloquist who found it for him, rather it was Scarface who did, along with the requirements for him to complete the ritual. 

While Bruce was busy in Arkham, Thomas Wayne had a job to do. And he cannot let anyone else do this. He can't trust any of them with her. 

There was an intruder in the manor. Handing her daughter to Alfred, Vivian armed herself with her Phoenix form and scouted the place. Then there he was. A man standing in the shadows.

Lighting the room with her magic, Vivian gasped at the sight before her. 

It was Batman… but not her Batman. 

This Batman was different, from the uniform, the age, and the demeanor. This was not her Bruce. And this Batman held a gun too.

“Who are you?” Vivian questioned him.

“I am sorry, my dear,” this Batman spoke. “But I cannot have you intervening.”

“You're going to tell me who you — what?” 

Her magic, it wasn't working and… sand? Was she turning to sand? 

“Coin and Song, Knife and Stick… Claw and Name, Blood and Feather…” the man began the spell. 

That spell! Vivian knew that spell. Her father, Dream, told her about it. And the book! He has the Magdalene Grimoire.

“NO!” Vivian tried to fight it but her body turned to sand and blew across the room until it formed inside a glass dome with a summoning circle to keep her imprison. Getting on her knees, she tried to break the glass with her fists or use her magic, but nothing. She can't do a thing. “LET ME OUT!” Vivian ordered.

The man walked towards her, making sure to not let his cape brush over the circle. He can't let her escape and have a chance to use her magic. 

“I apologize, my dear,” he spoke. “I promise you, once we have broken down your husband and he finally submits, I will free you so you can help him back again… and we can be a family without the Batman.”

“Who are you?” and how did he know about Bruce being Batman? What was happening? Vivian has been trying to figure out what was going on for days now, and it seems all those times she finds herself in a trance, the symbols she would write on the window, it was an omen of what's to come. But who is this man?

“Ms. Vivian!” She heard Alfred's voice.

No! 

“ALFRED, DON'T!” Vivian hit the glass over and over, hoping the butler would hear her. “GET OUT OF HERE! TAKE VAL AND GO!”

“Ms. Vivian! Master…” Alfred trailed off as he came to the room, in shock to find Batman. But this was not Bruce Wayne.

“ALFRED, RUN! TAKE VAL AND RUN!” Vivian begged him to. “PLEASE!”

The man turned to Alfred, giving the butler a view of Vivian trapped in the glass, and the face on who he was. Alfred gasped when he took off the cowl.

“It can't be,” Alfred said.

The cries of a child broke their silence, and before Alfred to move, Thomas Wayne knocked him out by hitting him with the gun at the back of the head, and disappeared out of the room. He was gone for a time until he came back with Valerie's cries growing louder and louder. Valerie cried as Thomas held her in his arms, cradling her in hopes of stopping her cries.

“LET HER GO!” Vivian continuously hit the glass, not caring if her hands were already bleeding. “HURT HER AND I SWEAR, I'LL--”

“I will never hurt her,” the man said, and placed a kiss on Valerie's forehead. “She's family after all… my blood. My granddaughter.”

It was then that Vivian saw the resemblance of the man before her to the portrait of Thomas Wayne in the library. 

Valerie's cries grew louder and louder and she tried to reach for her mother and Alfred. Why was her mother in a glass and why was Alfred sleeping on the floor? She wondered, but she can't ask them nor can she go to them because this man, this Batman, was holding her. Keeping her from them.

“Mumma! Dada!” Valerie cried. “Dada!”

“Please,” Vivian begged, tears rolling down her face. “Please, give her to me. Thomas, please…”

Thomas Wayne turned to Vivian and had Valerie close to him and said: “Hush now, my dear, I promise this will all be over soon.”

~ * ~

It was Bane who did it and under Falcone's influence too. Batman didn't know how or why Bane agreed to it but this was the reality now. With Falcone's men releasing all of the patients in Arkham, Bane became its “acting warden” and made the asylum a fortress. Jim Gordon had the GCPD outside, trying to keep anyone from escaping but for some reason, while everyone is roaming free no one was leaving Arkham Asylum.

Normally he would have had backup with him, but as he drove to Arkham, the Falcones started their movement in Gotham too. It was a turf war in the streets, as Red Robin reported. So, he had his Robins handle the wars, disarm them all and get a hold of Gotham with the little manpower that the GCPD could give. Him? He'll deal with Bane and every criminal he sent to Akham.

He put them there once, he can do it again this time. 

Upon entering, he was met by the sight of Bane. Bane wasted no time in making himself known and attacking him there. He knew he stood no chance against the man, especially with the venom, but Batman held his ground.

Waynes rise.

And he did, he rose and he would have taken down Bane if it not for the other player who has been in the shadows all this time. 

“Good job, my boy.”

That voice…

Turning, Bruce met the sight of another Batman.

“Know this, I am proud of the man you have become, but this must stop or they will pay the price.”

On one of the monitors in the halls, this Batman played a recording that came from Wayne Manor. In the first monitor, Bruce saw Alfred holding Valerie as his daughter cried in the man's arms while they were being held at gunpoint, then at the second monitor, he saw a glass dome inside of a circle and holding it was Vivian who was still trying to get out by punching the glass even if it meant breaking her bones all so she could get to their daughter.

“No…” Bruce whispered.

“I have your family, your wife will give it up now?” said this imposter Batman.

Glaring at him, Bruce only said, “You just pissed me off even more.”

“Fine then, it seems you need more than just one beating to break you. I should know known, you are my son after all,” the imposter Batman pulled down his cowl and revealed his face.

“Father?!” Bruce gasped.

Then Thomas Wayne grabbed his son by the head and slammed his face to the concrete floor, knocking him out completely. He has put the fear of helplessness in him and it only brought out rage. Then he shall bring him endless nightmares… just like what his Vivian had shown him before.