#why did my aunt have to get married so early in the day

[revolu]

I'm dropping (a bit old) john laurens yap here. Please correct anything you must + provide the source.

and we know very limited about John but whatever !!

Laurens was described by Hamilton to have honey blonde hair when clean. His hair was generally said to be light brown/blonde. As seen on portraits, he had soft features, blue eyes, and a big nose. He was described to be very handsome, and IMO I agree!! We don't know exactly how tall he was, but he was most likely over 6 feet. One day before Laurens' 15th birthday, his father wrote to James Grant; ''my Little Jack, now as big as I am...'' (Jack being John's nickname). We don't know Henry Laurens' height, but if he was as tall as Henry at 15, he certainly grew to be taller. In 1778, Henry wrote to John ''A Taylor has cut off as much of your Scarlet as will make he says a Wascoat for 6 feet 3 inches...'' which suggests that John could have been 6'3. It's not clear what exactly Henry means in the letter but as said, John was probably over 6 feet. Laurens was one of the strongest abolitionists of the time despite coming from one of the bigger slave plantations and growing up where slavery was normal. John could speak English, French, Italian, Greek, Spanish and Latin. We know that he was fluent in English and French but we don't know about his fluency in the other languages.

Laurens got Martha Manning pregnant and ended up marrying her out of pity (supposedly to protect her reputation too and to keep illegitimacy of their child.) He wrote to his uncle ''...Pity has obliged me to marry...'', When Laurens left for war, he left his pregnant wife in another country. When John was chosen by congress to be a special minister to France and had him travel there, Martha traveled with their daughter to reconnect with him upon hearing about his arrival in France. But John supposedly made no effort whatsoever to visit them; he completed his mission and went back to America. Martha later died during the trip and their daughter, Frances, was sent to live with her aunt.

John Laurens is believed to have been gay... The man didn't seem to express any attraction towards women, though I think his sexist beliefs played a role in this, as well as his lack of effort to humble his wife. His letters to Alexander Hamilton, and Francis Kinloch also suggest he had an eye for men... ESPECIALLY Kinloch's and his correspondence.

Henry Laurens wrote ''Master Jack is too closely wedded to his studies to think about any of the Miss Nanny's''. But it's important to note that he was a teenager at that time and not every teen develops those feelings at the same time. But I would imagine that since he was as tall as his father at 15, he was early in puberty... Romantic/sexual feelings usually come with puberty, but what do we know? Anyways. John expressed a lot of sexist opinions, even towards his own sisters, which can be read in letters. Most men were sexist, but John seemed to be more ''strict'' on the subject... This definitely plays a part in his supposed ''homosexuality''.

John hid the fact that he had a wife and child from Hamilton for nearly two years. Why? The reason is unknown. It's only up to debate. My guess is that he just wanted to try to ''forget'' them in some way, seeing as he literally left them... Why would you bring up that you have a family that you abandoned? But maybe it was because he never found the right time to tell him, or was it to get a better chance with Hamilton? We will never know, sadly. But what we DO know, is that Laurens referred to his wife as ''dear girl'', and Hamilton, and supposedly ONLY Hamilton, as ''Dear boy''. We know for a fact that Hamilton was close to Laurens and was special to him, but why did he call his wife that? Out of pity? He didn't necessarily show any real attraction towards her... But whatever the reason is, it's kinda cute.

We know that Henry Laurens was emotionally manipulative of John, which is like read in letters... So there is no denying that, really. BUT John was close to his father, attachment issues tsk, tsk tsk... But jokes aside, when John told his father that he wasn't super interested in becoming a lawyer or merchant like his father wanted, Henry wrote this to his brother; ''if he enters upon the plan of Life which he Seemed to pant for when he wrote the 5th. July, I Shall give him up for lost & he will very Soon reproach himSelf for his want of Duty & affection towards me, for abandoning his Brothers & Sisters, for disregarding the Council of his Uncle, & for his deficiency of common understanding, in making Such a choice_ if these reflections prevail not over him, nothing will_ he must have his own way & I must be content with the remembrance, that I had a Son.'' Basically, Henry said he would disown John if he pursued his interests in medicine. So, John ended up becoming a lawyer/statesman to please his father. There are more examples of John trying to please his father, but let's not take that now... HOWEVER, after John had died, Henry wrote of him in response to John Adams' letter; ''Thank God I had a Son who dared to die in defence of his Country'' ... We get a lot of mixed signals from Henry... Though I do believe he loved him, at least somewhat.., even if he was controlling/manipulative. Henry wasn't too nice to his other children either, but since this is about John I'm not gonna talk about that.

John's brother James died at the age of 9-10 (1765-1775)

James, or Jemmy, was supposedly scaling the outside of their house and tried to jump to the landing outside of John’s window but fell. He received life threatening injuries and cracked his skull. The doctors had figured that the injuries were too severe to save him and John described it to his uncle four days later; "At some Intervals he had his senses, so far as to be able to answer single Questions, to beckon to me, and to form his Lips to kiss me, but for the most part he was delirious, and frequently unable to articulate. Puking, Convulsions never very violent, and latterly so gentle as scarcely to be perceived, or deserve the Name, ensued, and Nature yielded."

Since John was supposed to watch over James during this time, John felt guilty and as if it was his fault. James' death was very difficult for John, and it weighed heavily on him.

Henry did little to alleviate those feelings of guilt, which suggests that he either didn't care enough, or that a part of him also blamed John. (I am not saying he 100% did, but it would not be surprising if he so did, considering how he treated John.)

He could also have been in too much grief to console John... Which, as said, would not be too surprising considering his treatment of John. But nevertheless, he did not do much to help John and John's guilt.

TW: mentions of suicide.

It is highly speculated that John was suicidal. We have a couple of written exchanges where John discusses suicide with friends and family. In February 1774, John wrote to Henry Laurens about two men who had attempted suicide. We don't have the whole letter, but here is a part of Henry's response; ''...But, my Dear Son, I trust that your opinion on that Question is So firm, that you are armed with Such irrefragable proofs of the Impiety as well as Cowardice of Self Murther, as puts you out of danger of being made a Convert to Error...'' (Not gonna put all of it). Another time, when John was a prisoner of war and didn't handle imprisonment well, Hamilton wrote to John ''For your own sake, for my sake, for the public sake, I shall pray for the success of the attempt (of being exchanged) you mention; that you may have it in your power to act with us. But if you should be disappointed, bear it like a man; have recourse, neither to the dagger, nor to the poisoned bowl, nor to the rope.'' It is clear that Hamilton (and Henry, despite how he treated John) were worried about John's thoughts of suicide. John's last letter to Hamilton was probably one of the, if not the, most emotional. He wrote ''Adieu, my dear friend; while circumstances place so great distance between us, I entreat you not to withdraw the consolation of your letters. You know the unalterable sentiments of your affectionate Laurens.'' John died about a month later. On the day of his death, John and his men surprised a troop of British soldiers that outnumbered them. Instead of retreating, John chose to immediately attack. He did not really actively end his own life, though it seems as if it was planned or that he was trying. Which is just sad. Also, it's not sure that Hamilton's last letter to Laurens ever got to him before he died. (In that letter he tells John to quit his sword and come to congress with Hamilton)

I don't know what else to add actually but here you have it!! This is as accurate as I can get it, especially cause it's like mostly based on letters... Uhm. But yay!

[bluesey-182]

so we're all familiar with the "afternoon appointment paralysis" where if you have an appointment at, say, 4 p.m, then you go into a waiting mode and simply can't do anything at all until the appointment, right? but does anyone else experience "early morning alarm insomnia"? where if you have to wake up earlier than usual you absolutely Can't Sleep and instead you wake up literally every 30 minutes in a panic thinking you missed your alarm, or it's just about to go off, so you "sleep" the whole night in 30 minutes intervals with high levels of anxiety sprinkled in between?

[hidtired]

Unfortunate Timing [Part 1]

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: You found out your pregnant early into your relationship with Daryl Dixon. To make matters worse? The apocalypse happens a few days later! (not fully canon)

5.7k words

Warnings (Pregnancy, gore, smut, reference to abuse, violence, fluff, walking dead stuff, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 etc.

Pre Apocalypse

You had moved to a small town in Georgia to get away from your parents. Your Aunt Mary had a little boutique and offered a job. Your parents didn’t like you weren’t married yet, not even dating either. So they have been shoving men at you for the last few years. They thought by your age you should have been married with kids. They wanted grandkids. Your brother was married but him and his wife struggled with fertility. The final straw was trying to get you into an arranged marriage with one of your father’s business buddies kid. You had only just turned 30.

It had freaked you out how your parents made it seem like you didn’t have a choice. So you packed your bags, your mother pleaded for you to not go. You broke the lease to your apartment and left without telling them where.

You like the simple life you were leading now. Helping your Aunt's business. You lived with her because she was a widow with no kids and wanted the company. You had some interesting neighbors across the street. You had just driven into the driveway taking notice of a man fixing his truck. It was hot outside and his arms were covered in grease.

You walked into the kitchen where your Aunt was doing dishes. You decided to help making idle talk about how the shop was until you looked out the window to still see the sleeveless man. Your Aunt caught you looking, "Thought you came here to get away from boys?" You smile shyly at being caught, looking back down and handing her a wet plate to be dried. "Never said that... Just the one my parents choose. Didn't have time to look for a date when men were thrown at me randomly by them." Your Aunt was amused to say the least. "That's Daryl Dixon, him and his brother live there. You have to watch yourself with a Dixon. But Daryl has helped me with a few things that broke around the house. He replaced the battery's in the fire alarms for me a week before you came."

You gave her a sideways look, "You trying to set me up now to?" Mary laughs, "Fine fine, granted I do bake something for him every time he does something for me. Could just have a sweet tooth." You look back out the window, ‘Daryl huh?’

It was a week later that you got a call from your brother. You went on a walk to take the call. He was anger that your father was on him for a kid because you had disappeared. The pressure had turned to his wife who was already having a hard time with infertility. It was when you were walking back to the house did the conversation get heated.

"Grow a back bone and yell at them Mathew! Why are you coming at me for!?" He responded with his own venom, "Why couldn't you just do what they asked! But go ahead die alone for all I care!" He ended the call abruptly after. You clenched your teeth tight and closed your eyes trying to compose yourself. A voice called from across the street, "Ya doin alright over there?" You turned to see Daryl beer in hand with the hood of his car open. You sighed shoulders sagging, "Sorry for the yelling." Daryl pick up another beer showing it off to you, "Sounds like ya could use one of these." You put your hands to your hips before deciding to walk over. You grab the beer he handed you with a smile, "Thanks..."

You cracked the can open taking a sip. Daryl stare at you for a second before saying something, “Yer boyfriend causing you trouble?” You chuckled at the thought, making a small face of disgust at it even, “No, that was just my brother being an ass.” Daryl took mental note of that ‘single’. He huffed and looked back down into his trucks hood. “Oh trust me I know how that is.” You look at him as he refocused his attention to his car, ‘That’s right, that’s what your Aunt had said.’ You lean against the truck. “Your Daryl right? I’m Y/N” Daryl looked back up at the mention of you knowing his name, “Oh so ya heard bout us.” He sounded a bit disappointed at the thought. You lean to look inside the car, smiling over to him, “Only the things my Aunt said.” He perked a brow at that, “Who’s yer Aunt? What she say about us?”

“Mary.” You pointed over your shoulder to the house, “And she mentioned you might have a sweet tooth.” Daryl looked over to the house of the lady he often did things for, her niece chiming in again. “Always see you fixing this truck across the street.” He pulled a red rag from his back pocket wiping his hands, “Ya damn thing always seems to be breakin.” He took notice of the girl fully now. You took slow sips of the beer he gave you while starring into the hood. “Well if I have any trouble with my car I know who to ask.” You looked up to him with a shy smile. “I’m useless when it comes to knowing anything about cars.”

That’s how they both started talking. You watching him fix a couple spark plugs while talking about things. Getting to know each other a little. Like how you were helping Mary with her shop. “Ah, so you just moved here.” You nodded, “Mmm about a month. Have no clue where anything is and have no friends so…” you shrug. A breeze started as evening was setting in. Daryl hesitated before saying, “I could show you some local spots.” He bit the side of his thumb nail waiting for an answer. You had bit your bottom lip looking up at him and smiled, “Sounds like fun to me.”

He was worried for a second he messed up, “There’s a bar that everyone knows, real popular on Fridays.” You nodded while looking at him staring down at your watch seeing you had been talking for about a hour. It was getting late so you slowly started to walk backwards to your house. You smile with a glint in your eye, “Sounds like a Date… see you Friday!” You waved and all he could do was look on with wide eyes. Did you just- “Pick you up at 8!” He yelled. He was in slight disbelief at the out come. Had you been flirting with him the whole time?

You had handed him a tool before he could even ask. You had known how to do it all along and played stupid to talk with him. He smiled down as he closed his hood. ‘Oh you were trouble.’

When Friday came he was kicking himself. This was unlike him to go on dates. But he wouldn’t deny he liked you. You were also looking forward to a date for the first time in a while. Preferring it more than being tricked on to one with some guy your parents liked. Daryl probably didn’t fit that kind a guy they would. Oh but your kind definitely. Your Aunt watched you try on an outfit before deciding to go with a floral casual dress that went to your knees. She gave you a smug look and you only rolled your eyes. You had a long black jacket over you, knowing it was already cool outside.

Daryl knocked on the door and off you went in his truck to this bar. He was slightly nervous when he saw you dolled yourself up, and for him? He had lied to Merle where he was going and doing. He was desperately trying not to blow this, “Ya look pretty…” he had said it at a stop light looking over to you. It’s everything a girl wants to hear, and it sure made you smile.

When they got to the bar the bartender seemed confused to see Daryl with a girl. He was normally there with his brother. Mostly to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid he had noticed. “Well if it isn’t a Dixon, tell your brother he still owes me for the glass he broke.” Daryl cringed at the mention of his brother. You just simply took a seat on a stool. “What can I get you two.”

You had a few drinks you’ll admit. You tried a classic drink that the locals had. You were grossed out at the drink causing you and Daryl to laugh. He only had a drink with the need to drive you both home. You had tried to play pool but decided you were a little to inebriated at how many times you missed the ball entirely. You were standing in a corner of the bustling bar talking. You held a bow empty cup dying laughing at a story had told you about his childhood. Sometimes kids dumb actions, like jumping off a shed in a hero outfit, were just funny. You had lost a little balance at your laughing and place a hand onto Daryl’s chest. He only looked down to you putting a hand to your waist to steady you. You had tears of laughter in you eye, you fanning your face to no ruining your make up. He was definitely enjoying this more than he wanted to.

You had been at the bar for about 4 hours with Daryl. You now walked leaning into him in the parking lot. He had an arm around your shoulder leading you to the car door. He started the car and looked over to you, “Should have told me ya were a lightweight.” You gasped offendly, “Lightweight! I’ll have you know I’m just tipsy.” He looked at you questioningly humming. You relaxed into the car seat, “Ok, I’ll admit I haven’t done this in a while- might be a little rusty on the drinking game.”

You both continued to joke around until getting to the neighborhood. He back up in your drive way to later drive into his own. Him doing that thing with his arm as he back up. You bit your lip at the sight. When he parked and looked at you you spoke, “Thank you for this Daryl, I had fun.” He nodded, “Was my pleasure…” you had slowly moved closer crossing the middle seat. He looked down at your flushed face, mostly done by the alcohol. That liquid courage probably giving you the strength to grab him by the chin and slowly kiss him. He leaned into it grabbing your hip. You pulled back with a bashful smile,

“Same time next week?”

He had fully smiled at that, “Ya bet your sweet ass. Now get out of here miss ‘tipsy’.” You giggle wiggling your way out of the car. Waving goodbye with a stupid smile on your face. He felt his heart skip a beat, ‘oh he was real screwed…’

That night he even thought back to how you were looking at him on the way back. He had caught you leaned against the window with hooded eye. When he looked at you, you tried to fight a smile. Oh and how could he not think of the kiss. His hands dragged down his face at the thought.

This went on for a little over a month. You would see each other throughout the week but Fridays you would go out. Small touch’s and kisses here and there. It wasn’t until you ended up back at that bar that things changed. You were only 2 drinks in. You sat in a booth with Daryl. Head on his shoulder and hands intertwined under the table. You pulled away getting up, “I’m going to get another drink and you a beer. Then I’ll wipe your ass in a game of pool!” Daryl chuckled, “Let’s hope you can hit the ball with your cue this time.” You stuck out your tongue at him while walking to the bar. You had only been waiting for your drinks when a man slide up next to you.

“Whats a pretty thing like you doing with a Dixon? He blackmailing you?” The man held a sleazy smirk. You only look at him with disgust ignoring him. It was when he put his hand to your arm pulling you closer did you talk to him, “Hey back off!” The man’s grip tightened, “What you a hooker or something? Only way a Dixon could get some pipe is by paying for a slut.” You had yanked your arm from him, you falling back a little before landing against someone behind you. A arm rapping around you, you recognized it instantly, Daryl. His voice growling and rumbling against you, “Back off my girl.”

The man who was bothering you only rolled his eyes, “Maybe keep your slut on a leash-“ You had felt Daryl lean forward behind you before you even saw him sock the guy in the face. You had gasped and turned to push Daryl back from the guy. He stumbled and held his nose. You whispered to Daryl, “Ok it’s time to go…” You tried to push him closer to the door but the jackass decided to spit out another comment, “Ya let your bitch drag you away pussy!” You felt Daryl lean forward and resisted you leading him backwards but you spoke softly up to him, “Please…” His eyes briefly met yours. He looked back up to the guy who was probably drunk but, Daryl’s blood was boiling with rage. He relented at your plea and walked out the exit.

He was quiet as he walked back to the truck. Walking a little faster ahead of you. When he got into the drivers seat you had said his name but he wasn’t listening. He put the key in the ignition, turning it on but your hand rested onto his arm and you said his name again, “Daryl…”. He slumped a little and turned the car back off. He slowly turned to look at you. You scooted closer into him. You closed your hands around his face so he would look at you. You gave a small smile, “Thank you.” You gave him a quick peck before leaning back to look at him.

He signed and placed his forehead to yours talking a moment. He thought maybe he was gonna scary you off at the out burst. He whispered, “Hope I didn’t scare ya.” You chuckled shaking your head, “They opposite really. I was scared of that guy and then you came and I felt ok again.” He inhaled a breath before I closing his arms around you. He pulled you into him more and you rapped an arm around his back. You sat there for a moment before you spoke, “Soooo, Your girl huh?”

Daryl froze in place. Didn’t even register he said it in the moment. He pulled back from you, mouth agape, stuttering before he gave up at trying to say anything. You placed a hand into his hair playing with a strand of hair, “I’m your girl?” You had almost whispered it. Daryl cleared his throat, “Will you be?” You let out a breathy sigh,

“Yeah, thought you’d never ask.”

That is when you officially started dating. Sat in the truck, in the parking lot, making out for a good 10 minutes.

You were enjoying the new found established relationship. Over the next week was filled with your Aunt seeing you cuddle on the couch watching a movie. You had even managed to give him a small haircut in his bathroom, “Hmm, I think you would look good with long hair.” Sometime you would find yourself in Daryl’s room laying on his bed just talking when Merle was away.

Speaking of Merle he had later found out when at the bar that his baby brother started a fight over his girlfriend. He had thought nothing of it until he asked his brother if it was true. When it was confirmed he laid hurtful comments at him. ‘No one can love someone like us!’ ‘Like you really?’ It was a definite damage to his ego. But some of the things he said about you rubbed him the wrong way. It made him defensive, ‘She a good lay?’ ‘got you pussy whipped.’ They had yet to even cross that line.

You know understood why Daryl had not wanted you to met his brother at first. He made rude and sexually comments to you. Often either being sexist or racist any time near him. You mostly tried to say clear of him.

Then there came the drama that followed from your parents. Apparently your Aunt let it slip to your brother you were with her. He told your parents and now here you were getting a call from her shop. You picked up the business phone and before you could even spit out your prepared greeting you heard your father’s voice boom over the phone. “Now you listen to me little lady you’re coming back home!” You pause shocked. “Your little tantrum is done and you will do as you’re told!” You could hear your mother in the back telling him to calm down. You to in a breath and replied calmly, “Dad, I will do no such thing.”

He was yelling more. You had caught something about a wedding date and some name before your mother took the phone from him. “Honey, you need to come back home ok?” You really couldn’t understand why, “No Mama I like it here.” She went to go on, “We are just doing what we think is best for you. We just want you to be happy with a husband.” You had enough snapping at them for the first time, “You want what’s best for you. If you wanted me happy you would have listened to me! I’ll have you know with the time I’ve been gone I finally feel free. I even got a boyfriend!”

Your mother gasped, “In the town you’re in! What redneck white trash could you possibly find out there!” You were surprised at the way your mother spoke. But you were also mad at it. You angrily replied, “His name is Daryl Dixon! Fuck you! Never call me again!” You hung up seething. You had closed the shop a little early.

After the call from your parents you walked to the bar. The bartender seemed surprised seeing you without Daryl before asking, “Your usual?” You nodded with an appreciative smile. While waiting for the drink you noticed Daryl’s brother with a few other people. You ignored him deciding you would have the one drink and go home, not really in the mood to deal with Merle.

You had just finished your drink when you heard a commotion behind you. Merle and another were arguing. It was getting really heated. You had stood about ready to leave when the other guy threatened Merle, “I’ll kill you for this!” When you had turned Merle was smug looking and unaware of the knife being pulled from behind the man’s pants. You had yelled, “Merle!” In a panic you lobbed your glass at the man. It shattered over his head sending him to crumple to the side on a table. The knife slipping from his hand and landing in front of him. Merle looked down at the knife before looking up to where the glass came from, spotting you. You were shocked with your mouth open looking at the man holding his head in pain, before looking back to Merle. The few other men that were sitting with them getting up displeased.

Merle realizing he was out numbered started to run toward you. He had grabbed you by the arm and dragged you with him to the exit. The bartender yelled as you got dragged away. “Hey!” You had yelled back before the door closed, “Sorry Lawrence I’ll pay you back later!” Merle was still dragging you along to his motorcycle. The door had swung open and the angry men started to pursue you both. Merle had yelled at you when you pause to look at the door, “Get the fuck on!”

You had hopped over the seat and sat behind him. Not having a moment to hold on before he started to speed off. It wasn’t until he pulled into his driveway that you started telling him off.

Daryl had heard Merle’s motorcycle pull in but he wasn’t expecting to hear you yelling right after it. “Goddamn I’m already having a shit day!” When he walked out the front door to see you telling Merle off as he just sat there on his bike silently taking it. He had never seen his brother not throwing words back at someone. “Are you an idiot!” Not even that got a reaction from him. Daryl knew that would normally get replied by violence. It wasn’t until he spoke did you turn at his voice, “The hell is goin on?” Your anger soon crumpled into tears, you were overwhelmed and maybe a bit scared still body pumping with adrenaline. Daryl almost got whiplash at the sudden mood shift.

That didn’t stop him from hugging you as you started to cry. He shot a look to his brother who still sat on his bike. Merle looking weirded out at the sudden tears. "The hell you do ta her?!” Merle rubbed the back of his neck, "May have got into a bit of a fight at the bar with some folks. She kinda stopped me from being stabbed." He had felt you shaking in his grasp now. He knew you hated conflict, told him about the pit that would form in your stomach. But you stopping Merle from being stabbed? "How she do that?" Merle chuckled, "Threw her glass across the room! Knocked him clean on his sorry ass." He seemed almost impressed by you.

Daryl started leading you back toward your home. Daryl turning to yell back to his brother, "Whatever man piss off." He had gotten you into your house before you spoke, "My Aunt went on her Cabo trip with her book club friends. She'll be gone a week... stay?" He gulped, "If ya really want me to." You nodded, "I don't wanna be alone." He saw you were scared.

He lay next to you in your bed after you calmed down and ate dinner. "Want to talk bout it?" You moved closer to him leading him to put a arm over you. You sighed into him, "I was at the bar because I had a rough conversation with my parents. Somethings were said. Their the reason I moved here, to get away from. I saw Merle and then the knife- then all those men chased us." Your hand rose to pinch the bridge of your nose, "Just been a- a shit day." You move to look up to Daryl's blue eyes a smirk rising to your lips at the worried and tight look he was giving you. He relax a little at your attention. He dragged a hand up your arm to your face, "Merle seems to think your a badass now." He himself was a little proud to hear what you did. You grunted into his chest, "He'd better. Saved his dumbass."

You were talking for a while after that. Seeing the clock blinking 1am now. You were sleepy but enjoyed talking to him to much to fall asleep. Sleep was pulling at your eyes and a question that should have been a inside thought slipped out, "Why haven't we had sex yet?" Daryl was a little taken back but not to shocked at the question, he hummed, "Honestly not a clue, I like you to much to mess anything up." Maybe the tired feeling was making his lips a little loose to. He paused before continued, "I've only had meaningless sex. Nothing with feeling behind it." He smirked down to your hazy eyes, "Why? You tryin to get in my pants?" You chuckled adding a little shrug, "Perhaps. Take me out to dinner and we'll see how the night goes from there." That made Daryl's heart beat a little harder. Of course he has thought about it before just didn't know how to act on it with you. He held you a little tighter to him, goofy smile to his face, "Yes Ma'am."

Take you out to dinner he did. Nothing to fancy but by the end of that night you offered him to follow you inside. You were laughing while bumping backwards into things as you both kissed. You stripping buttons down his shirt when he paused face looking uncomfortable. You stopped at the look. He sighed squeezing his eyes tight. Reminding himself it was you. "Uh sorry, just forgot to mention- just look fer yourself..." You softly pulled the shirt down off of him. Revealing scars along his body.

You dragged a finger along one. You look up at him with round eyes. He looked away before saying, “M’ Daddy was a drunk.” You intake air and release it at the information. You leaned down and kissed the scar you touched. Everything turned slow from that point, more sensual. He rolled into you at a pace he never had before. He was used to chasing a feeling, getting it over with. But every time he would push into you he couldn’t help but love the groans you made. You sure loved the noises subconsciously coming out of him as well. You would move up into him. The slow motion had sent you crazy. Leading you to claw at him begging for more. He didn’t go faster but harder.

Your moans filled your bedroom. Daryl was sucking on your neck while rutting into you. He was huffing out air and grunting in exertion. The tight clench he felt around him damn near knocked the wind out of him. He had pulled out and rested his head on your chest while trying to catch his breath. You dug your hands into the back of his hair.

That night lead to many more like it. Which is what lead you to the current situation going on. You were in the bathroom staring at a positive pregnancy test. Not just one but three. You sat on the floor contemplating, 'How did this happen?' 'Do I keep it?' 'How do I tell Daryl?' You and Daryl had been only officially dating for 3 and a half months now. The first test had you in denial, the second had you begging. The third had you close to acceptance. At least you weren't ugly crying anymore. Before anything you needed to tell Daryl. So you called him over saying it was urgent.

He opened the front door and jogged to your room seeing you crisscross on the bed looking distraught. He kneeled down at the front of your bed looking up at you. You took in a nervous breath before talking, "If you need a moment after I tell you this, its okay, I wont be mad." Daryl's heart dropped to his ass, 'were you about to end stuff between them?'

"I'm pregnant."

His eyes slowly widened and he looked down to your stomach then back to you. He abruptly stood up then paused again. His mind moving a mile a minute but also not at all. The one thing to click was "A father? ME?' He slowly walked out the room. You sat there with tears burning in your eyes watching him leave the room. He paced back and forth hand running into his hair. The fight or flight in him was telling him to run, he was overwhelmed. Then he heard a small sniffle come from the room he had just come from. That stopped him in his tracks. He thinks he loves you. You both hadn't gotten to saying it out loud to each other. He didn't know what love felt like but this was what he imagined it to be. He hated to see you cry. Made him feel like maybe he would to if he didn't fix your tears. When he heard you he slowly made his way back into the room. Realizing you were most likely as terrifies as him, more so even.

You felt his arms around you making you cry harder. You had run the possibility of him leaving in your mind. Fully aware of his lack of a good father in his life. When you pulled away to look at him he also had tears going down his face. It was the first you have seen him cry. You had now put your arms around his middle and pulled him down to now lay on top of you. You had a tight hold on him and he you. You both calmed down and you knew he wasn't leaving, then he also whispered into you, "I've got ya. Both of ya."

It was rough that first day. It didn't feel real. You told Daryl how you were going to make a appointment in the morning. You asked if he was wanting to go with. He had slowly nodded deep in thought. You had said they could talk about everything in time.

You both had time.

You had an appointment in a week, the receptionist suggesting you go and buy prenatal vitamins before then. You also broke the news to your Aunt, she was supportive. Saying she would love to help with anything you needed. You and her walked a few blocks to a small store connected to a pharmacy. You looked to the shelves of pills. You held two big bottles, different brands, of prenatal vitamins. The sound of screaming alerting you to a disturbance in the store. You turn to your Aunt with a questioning look. You both peaked around the aisle spotting someone on top of the other, a fight perhaps?

Gun shots to your left making you jump. You turned seeing a man backing down the aisle beside you shooting rounds into a woman approaching him. You witnessed the women not even flinch to each shot. Your Aunt pulled you by the shoulder backwards down the lane. Another person who was pale with foggy eyes rounded the corner. It grabbed your Aunt and before you could blink took a bit out of her neck. You watch in horror as she dropped to the ground with that person on top of her. Blood from her throat being ripped out had splattered across your face. You screamed terrified. The lady the man had been shooting at now turned the corner from the aisle they were in. Now she was covered in blood though. You look down to your Aunt who had stopped moving. The thing taking notice of you. So you ran.

You had just seen your Aunt being brutally murdered. You ran out the door of the building pill bottle still in hand. You saw people running, cars crashing. Others getting hit by cars. It was a nightmare but you felt like you need to keep moving. You ran down the road back to your house. Dodging anyone covered in blood.

Daryl had kicked the door open to your house. Merle was packing stuff into the truck across the road. He screamed your name looking for you anywhere. When he couldn’t find you he ran back to the car, “I can’t find her!” Merle rolled his eyes, “Forget about her! She probably died someone where let’s get are asses out of here!” Daryl yelled back at him with rage. “THE IS NO WAY IN HELL IM GOING ANYWHERE WITHOUT HER!” The yell had shocked Merle. Daryl had never talk to him like that. “We can find you a new lady we gotta go!” Then Daryl did something more unexpected. He shoved Merle back. He had hit the side door of the truck, Merle was about to hit him when he yelled, “She’s pregnant man!”

Daryl had a panicked and pained expression on his face. He started to stuttered out, “I-I gotta go look—“ The sound of his name being yelled from a distance made him turn in the direction. He was relieved to see you running full speed toward him. His relief flooded by panic at the sight of blood painted across your face and cloths. He ran the rest of the way to you. Crashing into each other in an embrace. You struggled to regain breath after how long you were running. Daryl had held your face seeing were the blood came from. Tears forming in your eyes, “It’s not mine…” Merle’s voice cutting in, “Come on love birds we gotta go now!”

Daryl lead you to the car opening the door and making you jump in, “Stay here I’m going to get some of your stuff.” He ran off back to your house and Merle started tightening the cables to the bike in the back. He sat down in the driver seat and looked over to you. You had two pill bottles on your lap and you stared at your hands shaking. He then noticed all the blood on you and decided to keep his mouth shut. Daryl ran back throwing a duffel bag in the back before going to the passenger side. You sat in the middle still a little stunned. Like a bird who flew into glass.

Daryl’s arm went behind your head resting on your shoulders. You leaned into him. Merle had started to peel out of the space driving off into a direction. You heard little of the talk between them. Choosing a quarry they know to get away from the towns and head into the woods.

All you knew was the world was changing.

Part 2

Feedback welcomed and requests open!

Sorry for mistakes I to eepy its 2 am. I'm dyslexic and struggle with it and normally reread 10 times to fix mistakes but this is so long I wanna go to bed.

[reigningqueenofwords]

Pinky Promise

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 1,409

Read on AO3

“I have to go to my aunt’s wedding this weekend. So I won’t be able to play with you alllll weekend. I’m gonna be so bored.” You sighed, lying on the floor of the tree house your father built you a couple years prior. At 10, it was still your favorite place in the world. 

Dean made a face. “That sucks!” He was your best friend in the whole world, and you spent every weekend playing together. “What am I supposed to do? Play with Sammy?” 

You giggled at that. “Guess so.” You smiled at him. “What’re we gonna do when we grow up and get married?” You pouted. “We won’t be able to play every weekend together.” 

“Well, I just won’t get married if I can’t play with you.” He said easily. 

Sitting up, you had the look on your face that told him you had an idea. “What if we make a pinky swear?” You started. “If when we’re 25, we’re not married to other people… we get married.” Why wouldn’t you want to marry your best friend? 

He thought for a minute and held up his pinky. “Alright.” He grinned when you looped your pinky finger with his. 

It had been almost 15 years since that day. You hadn’t thought of that day in ages. Dean was still your best friend, too. That never changed, and neither of you let anyone get between the pair of you. Sure, there had been girls over the years that tried to get between you, but he swiftly dumped them. Chewing on your lip, you pulled up a text to Dean. Do you remember the pinky promise we made when we were 10? You sent. You and Dean shared a birthday, meaning both of you would be turning 25 in just over a month. 

After a few minutes, he replied. Sure do! 😉 He sent, making you chuckle and roll your eyes. Why, what’s up? Meet someone and need to back out? 

Your eyebrows shot up at that. Actually, I was just asking if you remembered. I mean, our birthdays are in a month. Don’t you think you should start looking at rings, mr? 😛 You sent, sitting up and looking around your room. It was December 20th, and you’d be driving home to your parents in a few days. You’d see Dean then, too. His parents lived a block over from yours. 

Who says I haven’t been doing that already? Hmmmm? He countered. 

You highly doubted that was the case. Are you trying to tell me that you, Dean Winchester, man who has never dated anyone for more than a year…has been looking at engagement rings and actually plans to make good on this 15 year old pinky promise? Getting up, you made your way to your kitchen. It was almost dinner time, but you didn’t know if you were actually hungry. Your mind was on overdrive. As you got older, you felt Dean would laugh off your pinky promise. He’d say you were just a couple of dumb kids. 

I take pinky promises extremely seriously. Especially ones with my best friend. He sent, making you smile softly at that. 

Please just don’t propose at Christmas in front of everyone lol That’s too much attention for my liking. You knew he’d understand. Small bits of attention were fine, but you liked blending into the background. He was the more outgoing of the two of you. 

I promise 😀 He assured you. What day are you getting here, anyway? 

The idea of dinner forgotten, you leaned against the counter. On the 23rd. You?  

You watched the little bubbles pop up on your phone, hoping he would get there early, too. Guess I’m getting there on the 23rd, too. Meet me in the tree house? I’ll bring the beer, you bring the pizza? 

Grinning, you giggled. Deal. Meet me there at about 4? 

It’s a date! 

The afternoon of the 23rd, you stepped into your parents house. “Dad!” You called out, dropping your bags. It was 2pm, so you had two hours before Dean showed up. 

“There’s my girl!” He grinned, pulling you into a hug. “How was your drive?”

“Good.” You told him. “We want to hang out in the tree house, but it’s cold. Help me hang up some blankets or something so we won’t freeze?” You asked, keeping your arms around him. 

He chuckled. “I did that yesterday. Dean called and tried to offer to pay for anything I need to make it a bit warmer out there. You could sleep out there. I made it so warm.” He said proudly. 

“Oh wow!” You chuckled. “Thank you! Where’s mom?” Although you’d seen them for Thanksgiving, you missed them a lot. 

“Getting ready for our date. I’m taking her out while you and Dean act like kids in the tree house again.” He kissed the top of your head. 

You laughed, looking forward to this time with your parents, and your best friend. As far as you knew, no one but the pair of you knew of your pact. You never mentioned it to your parents, or other friends. Dean never told you he’d told anyone, and he wasn’t one to be very open with many people. However, you also knew all parents involved would be excited. Your parents loved Dean, and his parents loved you. 

Dean hadn’t been lying. He had been looking at rings for you. He’d snuck into your childhood bedroom and borrowed a ring from your jewelry box when he was there for Thanksgiving. This way, he knew what size ring to get. He didn’t want to risk getting the wrong size. 

What you didn’t know was that part of the reason he never dated anyone for too long was because he kept this pact in mind. It had always been you. He crossed his fingers that you’d both reach 25, unmarried, and not in a serious relationship. 

He pulled into your parent’s driveway, grabbing the beer from the passenger’s seat. Part of him felt like he was coming home every time he got there. Smiling to himself, he made his way to the backyard. He could see some light from inside the tree house, and got excited. You were already in there. “Honey! I’m home!” He called, making his way up. It was a bit awkward with the bag with beer, but he managed. 

“Dean!” You beamed when you saw him. As soon as he was completely in the tree house, you all but tackled him. “I’ve missed you.” You pouted as you pulled away. 

He chuckled. “Well, here I am.” He swallowed. “I have something for you.” 

“Dean, Christmas is in two days. You can’t wait two days to give me my Christmas present?” You teased. 

“This isn’t your Christmas present. That’s in my trunk.” He told you, pulling out the small ring box. “I know we were just a couple silly kids when we made that pinky promise, but you’ve remained my best friend for all these years. You know just what to say on the days where everything has gone wrong. There’s no one else I could ever picture myself being with for the rest of my life. Will you make good on that pinky promise and marry me?” 

Your eyes were wide, and you felt a tear fall down your cheek. “Yes!” You grinned, watching him slip on the ring. “How long have you been planning this?” You giggled. 

“I borrowed an old ring of yours at Thanksgiving.” He admitted. “It’s on my nightstand. Kinda didn’t wanna give it back yet. And we spent a lot of time in this tree house, where else would I propose to you?” 

You couldn’t stop smiling. “Guess we should talk about moving closer together, huh? Or moving in together?”

“Actually…” 

Furrowing your brows, you weren’t sure what he was going to say. “What?” 

He looked proud. “I put a down payment on a house. Just a couple streets over.” He told you. “Your dad already has plans to buy a treehouse in that backyard.” 

“My dad knew about all this?” 

Dean shook his head. “He knows I’m buying that house, and that I’d like a treehouse like this one, but I didn’t tell him I was proposing.” While he knew your dad would approve, your dad might have let something slip. “So, looks like we have a wedding to plan, sweetheart.” 

“Damn right we do!” 

[enchantedbarnes]

Uncle Buck Returns

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Single Aunt!Reader

Summary: Our little menace of a nephew has secured a date for you. Here is part 2 to Uncle Buck.

Word Count: 1401

Masterlist: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven

A/N: what in the actual f👀 is going on 😅 I was expecting maybe 10 or so people to read Uncle Buck. My notifications haven't stopped going off since I posted. Thank you so much everyone that read it and enjoyed it. I hope you also enjoy this little continuation. P.S. GIF replies are my love language so if you enjoy send me your best (or worst 😈) 🫶

As soon as the pair return home and walk through the front door, Benji skips his way in shouting, "MAWWAGE! MAWWAGE IS WHAT BWINGS US TOGEVAH TODAYYYY!" Arms high above him as he rushes through the living room in search of his parents.

"Benji, please don't make me regret letting you watch my favorite movie," you sigh, flopping onto the couch, hands covering your face.

He stops short and looks back at you, "Have you the wing?" He bows and giggles, then turns back around to continue on with his search.

"You're back!" Your sister shouts while she snatches Benji up into her arms, covering the small boy in kisses. "Did you have so much fun with Auntie today? Why are we shouting Princess Bride quotes?" She gasps, "Did you get to meet the dread pirate Roberts??"

Benji looks up at her in confusion, "What? No Mom, we saw Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson! And guess WHAT!"

"Ohhh, what?!"

He whispers into her ear and throws his head back laughing like a tiny evil madman.

"You did what???!" She laughs.

You groan from the couch.

She walks both of them over to you.

"Did I understand him correctly, is there something we should know? Are you betrothed to a super soldier?"

"I'm gonna go throw up," you groan again.

Sweating doesn't even begin to cover it.

Your entire body feels like it's on fire.

You agreed to meet Bucky for a late lunch the following day. You've been sitting on the floor by your closet for what you thought was 30 minutes now, staring into the clothing abyss, spiraling into an internal panic.

You don't go on dates. You keep to yourself. It's comfortable. Living in a combined household with your sister and her small family you're certainly never alone.

What are you even supposed to talk about?

Your current job is nothing super exciting to talk about. You do like to go to concerts and musicals... However you can't really imagine the 106-year-old super soldier going to a pop punk or metal show, nor do you imagine him attending Wicked 3 times. Note to self: do not bring up Rogers the musical. Yikes.

Your sister has already talked you off a ledge 3 times since last night when you got home.

While still wallowing in self pity and loathing, two outfits are scattered by you and you have three more in your arms.

Your sister walks by your open door and backtracks peering in.

"Y/n," she sighs, "just wear the first outfit. You'll look great, I promise." She walks over and grabs the armful of clothes from you, dumping them on the bed and grabbing the first outfit. Your favorite pair of black jeans and a sweater you bought specifically because it was so damn soft.

The doorbell rings and your eyes widen. "He's early?!"

"He's on time, you would have noticed if you weren't staring into space for the last hour."

"WHAT?!"

"Don't worry we'll keep him distracted while you finish getting ready."

"Oh sure, don't worry. That fills me with all the confidence..."

"Benji has already asked him to marry you, what's the worst that could happen now?"

"I don't even want to think about the answer to that. So many possibilities come to mind."

You grab your outfit and start rushing around.

"Can I get you something to drink, Bucky?" Your sister asks while she moves about the room.

Bucky and Benji are seated at the kitchen table, just off from the living room. Benji is across from him with his tiny arms crossed on the table, and a very serious look on his face.

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Ok, I'm sure she'll be down in just a moment. Make yourself at home. Hopefully we will see you around again soon," she smiles, "I'm just gonna go switch the laundry over quickly. Benji," she looks down at him while pointing two fingers at her eyes and then over to him, "behave yourself," she warns while leaving the room.

The table stare down continues.

"Where do you live?" Benji asks.

"In the city," Bucky answers.

"You have a house?" Benji fires back.

"Apartment."

"Own or rent?"

"Rent."

"Where’s your office?"

"I don’t have one."

"How come?"

"I don’t need one."

"Where’s your wife?"

"Don’t have one.."

"Yet," Benji squints with a tiny smirk, "but how come?"

"It's a long story."

"You have kids?"

"No I don’t."

"How come?"

"It's an even longer story."

"Do you prefer dogs or cats?"

"Both are fine."

"Do you have one?"

"I have a cat. Names Alpine."

"Is Steve Rogers really on the moon?"

"What's your record for consecutive questions asked?"

"38."

"He's up there all right." Bucky answers with a nod.

"Your metal arm and regular arm match well with how ginormous your muscles are."

"How nice of you to notice."

"I’m a kid, that’s my job."

Bucky raises a brow, "Why am I getting the 3rd degree here?"

"Just checking in on my investments. If this didn't work I was going to ask our neighbor Frank, but he kind of sucks," Benji shrugs his shoulders.

Before Bucky can question the language and what the 8-year-old said, you walk into the kitchen and quickly look back and forth between the two of them.

"Oh no, how long have you two been alone in here?? What did he say?" You ask Bucky, looking over at Benji quickly after, "What did you say??" Your eyes narrow.

Benji grins and holds your purse up for you. "Have fun storming the castle," he cheekily smiles with that glint in his eyes.

"Benji," you glare down at him.

Bucky clears his throat while standing up from the table. Walking over to you he points to a small bouquet of flowers that were already in a vase waiting on the kitchen table, "Um, these are for you…" he smiles.

"Thank you so much, they're beautiful," your reply is breathless while you look at the arrangement filled with a small mix of your favorites.

"He also gave me this," Benji holds up an RC truck with a Captain America shield painted on the side.

"That was very nice of him, did you say thank you?"

"Duh," he rolled his eyes while grabbing the remote to the car and rolling it out to the living room, "Thanks Future-Uncle Bucky," he grins and chases after it.

"Anyone ever tell you guys he's kind of a strange kid?" Bucky whispers conspiratorially while offering his arm to you.

You throw your head back with a quick laugh. "Oh, you have no idea."

Your date is going better than you expected.

You have managed to not make a complete fool out of yourself so far and both of you seemed to be enjoying your time together.

You have apologized multiple times for Benji's antics.

Bucky laughs, "He reminds me a bit of a young Steve and my sister Rebecca combined. Didn't realize that combo was possible, it's a little terrifying. I hope they have great medical insurance," he jokes.

"His father's a nurse, so we have in-house medical on demand. My sister tried to convince me to go to law school so someone can represent him when he undoubtedly tries to take over the world. Guess I can save some money and time on law school now that we have a super soldier plus a Captain America connection that can potentially stop him before lawyers need to be involved."

"Your sister already welcomed me to the family when she opened the door to let me in," he smirks.

You put your face in your hands, elbows leaning against the table in support.

"Well now you know where her small menace gets it from."

Bucky helps pull your chair out for you as you're both about to leave. As you stand up your purse falls off the back of your chair, spilling some of its contents on the floor when it lands.

Bucky ducks down to help collect your things when something shiny appears next to your chapstick. His eyebrows furrow as he picks both up and holds them up to you.

You let out a slightly strangled cough as you realize what he's holding up to you.

Bucky Barnes was kneeling holding up your peppermint chapstick and your Grandmother's opal ring that was supposed to be safely in your jewelry box at home.

...Benjamin!

Next: Part 3 Lord of the Pins

@pono-pura-vida @bitchy-bi-trash @random-writer-23 @jvanilly @clintsupremacy @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction

[sansaorgana]

I had a dream last night for Buck, and it's kinda a cute request idea ✨️

So like obvious Buck x Reader, them being married after the war and they have a daughter that was like 3 years old. But the boys were there too Bucky, Rosie and Croz (who also bought his daughter with him) and everyonemet up at a park.

The two children were ✨️forcing✨️ the males to play with them and at the end of the day they were renamed to Uncle Bubu (bucky), Uncle Rose, Uncle Bug (buck) and Uncle Croco (don't ask me why or how but I dreamt it like that 😂)

hello! thank you for these requests 💝 the story is so adorable and domestic, I wish I could live in it, honestly 😭 I looked up popular 1940s girl names because I didn't feel comfortable with looking up the name of real Crosby's daughter for obvious reasons lol 😅

I have about 10 requests with Buck at the moment in my inbox to write lol (and one about Bucky) so please, go easy with them for a while 👉🏻👈🏻 especially that I also want to open my requests for Feyd, too 🤩

Little Gloria had been excited since the early morning for the arrival of uncle Bucky. Her godfather lived in a different part of the country and she was seeing him only a few times a year.

You were in the kitchen, preparing Bucky’s favourite food to greet him with it, while Gloria was on Gale’s lap as they were both sitting by the window to make sure not to miss Bucky’s arrival.

When she started to squeal and clap her hands, you realised that Bucky had to be already outside.

“What the hell,” your husband muttered and you furrowed your brows.

“What? Did he bring some lady?” You asked and approached the window curiously.

Bucky’s car was parked on your driveway but he was not the only one leaving it. However, there was no lady but two other men and a little girl who looked more less your daughter’s age.

“Who are these people?” You asked Gale. You didn’t know every person your husband had served with personally.

“The one with the moustache is Rosie and the other one is Harry Crosby,” he looked up at you. “I guess the girl is Crosby's daughter. She should be about a year older than our little Gloria,” he put your daughter down on the floor because she was getting impatient to finally run outside and greet her favourite uncle.

“Well, I don’t mind finally getting to know them but we don’t have enough beds for them all to stay over,” you worried.

“We’ll settle it somehow, come,” Gale stood up and took your hand to lead you to the hall.

Gloria was already waiting by the door and struggling to reach the doorknob. Gale chuckled at her and opened the door for her as she ran outside. Bucky smiled widely at the sight of her and crouched down as he opened his arms. Gloria hurried to hug him and you followed her.

“Hello, Princess,” Bucky squeezed her tight and carried her up. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Cleven,” he greeted you and your husband with a wink. “I’ve gathered some company on the way, I hope you don’t mind,” he pointed at the men behind him. “Little reunion, how about that?”

“Oh, it’s nice to finally meet you!” You reached your hand out towards the man with the moustache.

“Nice to finally meet you, too, Mrs. Cleven. I’m Rosie,” he introduced himself.

“Please, I’m just (Y/N),” you giggled and shook his hand before reaching it to another man.

“Harry Crosby,” he nodded at you. “And that little lady is Connie,” he introduced his daughter. “My wife wanted a weekend for herself and I thought that it would be nice if our daughters could meet. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I hope you don’t mind us in general,” Rosie added.

“I don’t mind at all,” you chuckled nervously as your husband hugged Crosby and Rosie. Little Connie was staring at him with big wide eyes before shyly hugging him, too.

“Hello, Connie,” Gale booped her on the nose and she giggled. “I’m uncle Buck and this is aunt (Y/N),” he pointed at you.

“Connie, what do we say?” Harry looked down at her.

“Hello,” she blushed.

“Oh, she’s adorable,” you smiled.

“I am adorable, too!” Gloria exclaimed. “Right, uncle Bucky?”

“Of course!” He assured her with a laugh and kissed her on the cheek.

Gale helped Rosie to get the bags out of the trunk and you all walked inside and into the living room, chatting about the weather and what the ride had been like.

“I’m a little worried about the beds,” you explained. “Girls can sleep together, we have a guest bedroom that I have prepared for Bucky. Someone can sleep on the sofa of course. But we’re still one bed short,” you sighed.

“A professional worrier,” Gale teased you. “She’s like you, Croz.”

“Excuse me, that seems like a serious problem to me!” You put your hand on your hips.

“You’re really adorable, (Y/N),” Bucky patted your shoulder and you furrowed your brow. “We’re military men. We can sleep on the floor,” he explained.

In the evening you were all sitting in the garden while Gale was managing the barbecue and you were helping him. Bucky – as energetic as always – was running around with Connie and Gloria. Rosie and Croz were sitting by the table and drinking beer while watching them and you were sighing every time one of them ran over your flower patch.

“Daddy, daddy, look!” Gloria was calling for Gale all the time, hoping he would join the fun.

“Go to them,” you pushed his shoulder lightly. “I’ll take care of the grill,” you promised.

Your husband leaned in to place a kiss upon your cheek and ran to Gloria, trying to catch her and attack her with tickles. Harry put the bottle of beer down and did the same to his daughter.

Rosie stood up and joined you by the barbecue as if you needed a male’s assistance while turning the meat and vegetables over.

“I can handle that, really,” you chuckled. “You men act like we haven’t been managing everything on our own while you were gone,” you pointed out.

“You have?” He asked playfully and you rolled your eyes.

“Do all people in New York run their mouths?” You asked with a cheeky smile.

“Yes,” he winked at you.

“Then I wonder why I wasn't born there,” you laughed.

“You run your mouth, too, Mrs. Cleven?”

“Gale thinks so sometimes. Right, Gale?” You looked at him and he furrowed his brows at you. Little Gloria was sitting on his shoulders as he was pretending to be an aeroplane.

“What?” He asked.

“I’m telling Rosie how you think I run my mouth sometimes,” you explained.

“A lot,” he answered before turning around and ignoring you once again, focusing on the play-pretend.

“Rude,” you mumbled and sighed while Rosie chuckled.

“Love and marriage, eh?” He asked.

“Love and marriage,” you nodded and took one of the plates to put the sausage and potatoes on it from the grill. “We’re out of ketchup,” you pointed out. “I’ll go for it,” you told Rosie and he nodded his head as he took the plate from you to put it on the table.

You went inside to the kitchen but the phone rang as you were opening the fridge. It was your mother calling so you stayed on the line for about ten minutes, chatting about the upcoming weekend with the guests and asking her about the new recipes she had been trying recently. When you were finally done, you grabbed the ketchup bottle from the fridge and went back outside.

You froze at the sight of four adult men running around with two little girls giggling and laughing as they were trying to catch them. Bucky was standing on the garden chair that was barely stable on the grass and Rosie was wearing a cap made out of an old science magazine that had been laying on the garden table for a month now because Buck had been insisting that he was still reading it.

You focused mostly on him – your husband. His cheeks were flushed and golden hair was ruffled, reminding you of a little boy. It brought a smile to your face to see his eyes sparkling with joy. Ever since he was back from the war, his beautiful blue eyes were often filled with melancholy but in rare and pure moments they reminded you of the Buck you had met all those years ago. And nothing was bringing you more happiness than his joy.

“Gloria,” you put the ketchup bottle on the table and smiled at your daughter, “Nana called and she sent you a million kisses,” you told her.

“Oh!” Gloria smiled widely. “I’m sending her a million, zillion kisses back!” She told you. “Mummy, look at uncle Rose, he’s a sailor,” she pointed her finger at Rosie.

“Uncle Rose?” You laughed and he winked at you.

“And daddy’s uncle Croco,” Connie approached you shyly to tell you.

“Croco, mhm,” you smiled at her. “And that handsome fella?” You pointed at Bucky who was grinning like an idiot.

“Uncle Bubu, at your service, ma’am,” he saluted you and nearly fell off of the chair as everyone laughed at him.

“Guess what’s our daddy!” Gloria pulled on your skirt excitedly.

“I’ve no idea,” you shook your head.

“Just guess!”

“Uncle Bucket?” You tried as Gloria and Connie giggled and Buck shot you an annoyed glance.

“Uncle Bug,” Gloria revealed.

“Oh!” You laughed. “I’ll try to remember all of these,” you promised. “Now, it’s time to eat, uncles-funny-names,” you told the men and arranged all the plates on the table. Connie started helping you without being told to and you looked at your daughter. “Do you see that, Gloria, how Connie’s helping me?” You asked her but she only rolled her eyes with a sigh and sat on Gale’s lap.

“Connie is older than me! When I’ll be as old as her, I will do that, too!” She told you and you laughed because she apparently wasn’t realising that the age difference between them was only a year

“I will remember that,” you assured her.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Three-headed dragon (Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader)

Summary: Three times Rhaenyra marked you, and one time you did too. Or snippets of the love story I so wanted to tell but didn’t feel confident enough to write.

Warnings: Implied smut. Dance of the dragons. Canon character death (Not Rhaenyra)

Rquested: Yes!

A/N: I have not read the books, and I have only gotten one hickey in my life. I hope my ability to describe it's alright. Ignore the bra and the hegemonic body in the first picture, it's for the vibes.

“How many years have you spent by my side?” Rhaenyra asks, as you fix her hair in the mirror. It’s an important day, even if none of you know it at the time. It’s early. Her husband is off somewhere, no longer sleeping in the same bed as her. She is too pregnant, she jokes. You doubt it. You have long wondered what her relationship with Prince Daemon is. Are they star crossed lovers, who finally get their happy ending? Are they Uncle and Niece, married out of political convenience? You can’t tell.

You know which one you prefer, though. It must be kept secret, this deep-seated, long-lasting admiration for your Princess. You have been through it all, together. Youth, marriages, motherhood, widowhood. Ruining it now, with your feelings, would be foolish.

“Since we were sixteen.” You place different ribbons over her hair, testing, draping. It’s not your job, technically. You are a noblewoman in your own right, not supposed to be here on Dragonstone, but back in the North, where your long deceased husband’s bones rest.

Not meant for marriage, and ready to start your career as a Septa, you had found yourself as a companion to a much younger Rhaenyra. She had secured, in an admirable move, a marriage by proxy with some old lord. You had not even managed to reach the North when he had passed, leaving you as the sole heir to a small castle close to the Boltons.

With such undesirable neighbors, and the news that your Lord Husband was dead, you had decided to come back into Rhaenyra’s service. Her companion through childhood, now by her side during the trials of adulthood.

“Sixteen. Such a long time.” Rhaenyra squeezed your hand, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “Served loyally and never asking for anything in return.”

“Only your friendship.” Your love, you wanted to scream. Your love, for you to see me, since I am still here and I want you. Don’t you see how much it has hurt me, when I am yours, yours, and you were Criston’s, then- -

But you say nothing of the sort. Not wanting to ever risk what you had. Love is selfless, you remind yourself. You can’t have her, nor can you own her. Rhaenyra is the Seven Kingdoms, Aegon’s Crown. You cannot hope to own her or rule her. The Iron Throne, as everyone knows, was not made for a woman.

“You are not my friend,” Rhaenyra says, and the shock must show on your face because she laughs. Silver bells filling the room, the laughter of a golden Princess. “You are family, by this point. Haven’t you cared for the boys as if they were yours?”

And it’s true. You have loved those children because they are half her. You have been the preferred aunt, the accomplice, and the one to teach them things as important as the proper way to hold a quill. As the saying goes, it takes a village. The children are your combined efforts, alongside hers, Daemon’s and Harwin’s.

“You are as much a mother to them as I am.” Yours. Rhaenyra is saying the boys are as much hers as they are yours. “I have been thinking.”

You are so grateful for it, you could cry. But that’s not why Rhaenyra likes you.

“Oh? You are capable of it? We must inform the Maesters.”

Rhaenyra laughs.

“More respect for your future Queen.” She tries putting on a scolding expression, but is unable to keep her face straight.

“Oh, your majesty! I never meant to offend?” You give her a mock curtsy, and she giggles a bit more. You love her like this, you have come to realize. Rhaenyra is a woman of many flaws, even as a mother. She has grown into something larger than life, a presence that commands rooms yet manages to remain full of love to give.

“Stop it, you,” Rhaenyra complains. “I’m trying to do something here. Have a gesture.”

You sober up, a smile still tugging at your lips.

“I was thinking perhaps you should start wearing my house colors. And before you say anything, I mean it as an order. I already had you made three new gowns.”

You open and close your mouth a few times.

“Dragon got your tongue?” She teases, cradling her belly.

“Rhaenyra… I… Too much?” Because you are not sure what she is saying, but definitely she is not calling you sister. She would say it plainly, your Rhaenyra. That she is telling you to wear her house colors… That’s what men do. To their wives.

“It’s what you deserve.”

She is informed of her father’s death that day. The only person she allows in the room with her, as she loses baby Visenya, is you. From woman to woman. No one else gets to glimpse the fragile human who lives inside the dragon, not even Daemon.

You declare war dressed in black and red.

The Black Council is filled with fools, despite the support they show to Rhaenyra. You know it. She knows it. That’s why it doesn’t come as a surprise to you when you go to step inside the war room, and a guard bars the entrance with his lance. You have been expecting this moment. Dreading it, even. It was bound to happen.

“I am sorry, my Lady, but you are not allowed inside. Orders of the Prince consort.” Of course. Of course it's Daemon. Despite expecting it, you can’t help but be surprised at his boldness.

You don’t wish to make a scene. You truly don’t. But it scares you more than you thought it would. First, you will be banned from rooms. Then, dismissed, if not outright executed. This day had to come, you knew. Everyone had family on the other side of the war, with all the noble houses having intermarried at least once.

In the years to come, the conflict will be known as one that teared brother from brother. You don’t know this, you will not live to see it. Yet, it rattles in your bones.

“What? Prince Daemon?” You ask a little too loud. It attracts the attention of some other people in the hallway, including Rhaenyra who is just arriving. She looks more regal than ever in a black gown that compliments her pale skin.

Whispers start to break out among the gathered, surely reminding your heritage. Everyone is waiting to enter the war room, and the lance the guard has extended across the doorway is certainly drawing attention.

“What’s going on here?” Rhaenyra asks, placing a hand on your lower back and eyeing the guard with suspicion. The man lowers his head.

“My Queen, Prince Daemon has said…” He starts to explain, but Rhaenyra silences him with a dismissive wave of the hand. Ashamed, you lower your eyes.

“I do not care what he has said.”

“He has prohibited the Lady from entering…” The guard argues. Next to you, Rhaenyra tenses. You know he has already angered her, daring to speak above her like that.

“Is Prince Daemon King? Does he wear the crown?” She asks him, fiercely. The guard, wisely, keeps quiet. “She is my right hand. I will not suffer to see her disrespected.”

And with that, Rhaenyra moves the lance aside with a brush of her hand, leading you inside by the small of your back.

At the table, Daemon stands, moving some pieces along the map of Westeros. His back is to you, but he turns as he hears the commotion that precedes your arrival. A smug little smirk is on his lips, as he sees your discomfort.

“What are you…?” Daemon says, when he processes that you are, in fact, inside the room he had banned you from. Then, he notices Rhaenyra. “Ah.”

He squares his shoulders, getting ready for a fight. You try to pull away from Rhaenyra, but the hand on your back turns into claws, grasping at your dress to keep you right where you are.

“Why did you order the guards to not let her inside?” Rhaenyra speaks in a tone that leaves no room for argument. Daemon has to answer her or else. It’s a tone you had heard frequently when she tries to reign her sons in.

“Because I thought she didn’t belong in the war room, my Queen.” Daemon saunters towards you, no doubt trying to intimidate you. You lift your chin defiantly. Usually, you two avoid each other’s path. He resents your position in Rhaenyra's life, as her most trusted council. You resent that he gets to share her bed.

“You gave a ridiculous order.” Rhaenyra argues, rubbing your lower back in soothing circles, as if you were a spooked horse.

“Not so ridiculous. We have known for a long time there is a spy. Why should it not be your pet?”

“I am not! You truly think I would do something as vile?” Desperate and feeling powerless, you turn towards Rhaenyra. For a second, you truly think she might believe him. It’s the scariest second of your life. Losing her in a trap set up by Daemon? You hope she can see how genuine the next words you speak are. “I would never endanger the children, never endanger you!”

“I know.” Rhaenyra says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I know.”

“Come on. Her family is as green as they come.” Daemon raises his hands in the air, as if asking for patience to the Seven Heavens.

“My family is here.” You say, firmly. “Jace, Luke, Joffrey, Viserys, Aegon…”

“So you say. But they are not your family, are they?” It feels as if Daemon has burned you. Nothing has hurt you more. Not even the accusations about you being a spy, or the time you thought you would have to leave Rhaenyra to marry some Lord in the North.

You have spent all your life next to her. All your best years. Now, you are an old spinster, despite being barely thirty. You have always wanted children, like any noble lady in Westeros. It was too late for it now. No lord would want a widow past her prime.

Yet, you have always thought that the void the lack of children of your own had left could be filled by Rhaenyra’s boys. Secretly, you thought yourself a mother already. What else could you be, when your name had been Jace’s first word? When you were the one holding Luke’s hands as he learned to walk?

Daemon wasn’t saying it openly, but it was clear that was what he meant. Rhaenyra’s children were not yours. As they had not been Harwin’s.

“They are!” Rhaenyra insists, but you are barely hearing it. The thought of it has left you too distraught to care about whatever you are discussing. It feels as if your heart is being carved out of your chest. Were Daemon about to suggest executing you for treason, you doubt you would worry. How could you, when it feels as if he has gutted you already? “We are. She is family. And I will hear no more of this matter.”

Her hand curves possessively around your waist. A claim, for everyone to see. You lean into her, shell shocked by it all.

But Daemon isn’t about to let this go. He pulls out a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket, one you recognize too well. You slump in defeat, despite Rhaenyra’s hands urging you to stay upright.

Daemon clears his throat, dramatically.

“And I fear your time with the Princess.” He stresses the last word, making a long pause. You close your eyes, and keep them closed tight. “Has come to an end. I urge you to come back to the Stormlands, where no harm shall befall you. For King Aegon is the most merciful when the misguided sheep comes back to the herd.” Daemon crumples the paper, and throws it to the floor. You wince. “Nothing to say?”

You shake your head.

“Daemon…” Rhaenyra warns, arm around your waist turning into a vice-like grip. You do not understand it, then. It will be a long time before you do.

“Did or did not your father write that?” He whispers, dangerously.

“He did.” You answer, in a voice so small it’s nearly inaudible. Daemon slams his hand on the table, making you jump, and struts out of the room.

You start to sob, quietly. This is it. Rhaenyra is going to dismiss you from her service. It’s true that your father has been urging you to come back home, stating that you would be protected. Begging you, even. Promising all sorts of things, from freedom, to riches, to a husband, to becoming the wife of a Prince. That’s his level of desperation.

It’s unlike him, to worry so much. But you know part of it is not just fatherly affection and genuine concern for your well-being. No. Taking you from Rhaenyra’s side would be the greatest hit the Blacks could take. Lately, you are one of the few things keeping the Queen calm and tethered to reality. You love her, but ever since Luke passed, Rhaenyra has turned almost unrecognizable. She is paranoid and harsh in ways you had never seen before. Crueler. More Targaryen than usual.

And not only that. You hold an unusual amount of information inside your head. Battle plans, supply chains, locations. Everything that has been the key to the Black’s success so far, you know. The information is too valuable to pass on. If you were to turn to the Greens, you would have to share it, be it voluntarily or forcibly. You are not foolish enough to not know it.

“Breathe, darling.” Rhaenyra cradles your face between her hands. “It's alright. I know you would never betray me. Breathe.” She exaggerates her breathing, placing your hand on her chest. It’s only then you realize you have started to hyperventilate. She pulls you into her, hugging you. On the doorstep, Daemon watches.

You don’t know what has gotten into her. Never has she touched you like this. It’s not the first time you kissed. You had both been sixteen and curious, once. But it had not gone further than learning how to kiss another person without it being gross. Because that was what friends were for. Obviously.

She smells like soot and blood. It’s clear she has rushed to your side, not even taking time to change after the battle. You wonder who she killed, this time. What city has she burned, how many of the small folk she and Daemon have doomed?

“I thought… When they said there were revolts on the road….” And her mouth is yours, and you can’t think because you want her so bad you aren't concerned about the consequences. Half the Kingdom is against you, already. You are considered traitors on one side, she is the Queen on the other. What does it matter, really, that it’s called a sin? You will die anyway.

“You are mine. Please. Say it to me, love.” Rhaenyra pleads, kissing your jaw. She looks so gorgeous in armor, you feel like you might die any time you glance her way. And now, you get to have her. It’s intoxicating, having all that power at your fingertips. A goddess come to life, set on claiming you, you and only you.

“I am yours.” You say, kissing her brow. You won’t question it. Not when you are so close to getting your darkest fantasies come true. “I have always been.”

“Mine.” Rhaenyra kisses the hollow of your throat. “You are mine.”

She grabs your hand, pulling you towards a chair. The room you are in is not yours, nor hers. Neither of you care, too desperate for each other. Rhaenyra doesn’t care that her blood soaked armor is staining someone’s chair. You don’t care that your dress is getting thrown around someone's room. Just in your chemise, she pulls you into her lap.

It will have to be burned, after this. There is no way you will be able to salvage the white cotton shift after straddling her lap. The blood sticks the two of you together, but you are too joyous to care.

“I love you.” You say to her, as she bites down on the column of your throat, harshly. Still a little bloodthirsty.

A beat of silence. Have you ruined things before they truly began?

“I love you too.” Rhaenyra says, as she kisses your collarbones. “I love you, and you are mine.”

“All yours.” You answer, breathlessly. Purple flowers blooming across your collarbones, a red angry rose right by your ear. Her bloodstained hands leaving marks upon your arms.

“Yours, yours, yours.” You moan as someone clinging to a lifeline.

“All mine, all mine, all mine.” She answers back.

A bite where your shoulder meets your neck. It’s painful, stinging, your vision blurring into soft flashes of orange and red.

“Just take it for me, please. Please, sweet girl.” Rhaenyra sucks another bruise on your skin. Deep lilac that will bloom into soft green. “I need this. I need them to know you are mine, even if we can’t tell them.”

You pant. There is a certain pleasure to it, being kissed with the barest hint of teeth. But it’s more than just the kisses, what has you panting in arousal. It’s the way she treats your body as her own personal canvas. As if you were a precious artwork Rhaenyra is bringing to life with her kisses.

A maroon chrysanthemum, just over your collarbones. Front and center, the bruise blooms. Her hand, holding your jaw still for the softest torture.

You are uncertain if she is doing it out of fear, trying to make sure you are still there. If she is a bit sadistic, in the way Targaryens are. Or if this is simple, raw reassurance that you are willing to do anything she asks. You save the wondering for later, though. At the moment, you are too busy breaking down under the talented mouth of your Princess.

You don’t want to be separated from her. You know, you know, that something bad is about to happen. Some nights, you wake up, choked up in a bad feeling. You barely recognize her anymore.

Luke’s death had devastated everyone. You thought, after that, never again would you know such pain. You were mistaken. In the months to come, it was as if the children were falling as flies. Everywhere you looked. Jace, Joffrey, Viserys. And through it all, you had been by her side.

Rhaenyra has transformed into something that’s equally beautiful and terrifying. Far more determined and possessive, love harsher and unwilling to let go. Desperation does funny things to women.

As children, your love had been more pure. Untainted but also untested. Your innocence had been lost long ago. But a love that was not pure didn’t mean a love that meant less. it just meant it had grown and changed, as things often did.

Rhaenyra’s heart was not what it used to be when you two were younger. No longer filled with dreams of cake and laughter. But you weren’t the same girl, either.

Before, you had felt the urge to mark her and settled for being marked instead. You had told yourself you were not allowed to have her, that she was Laenor’s, Harwin’s, Daemon’s. And each and each time, you pulled back, curling into yourself. No more. It was not enough, to be hers. No. It was not enough to be owned. You had so little now, you wanted everyone to know she was yours as you were hers.

“Rhaenyra.” You ask her, as she pushes you down to your knees, tossing and turning in the sheets. “Rhaenyra.” As your teeth bruise her thighs, as you bring her over the edge over and over again.

“Darling. Love. Come here.” And you want to sob because it’s not enough. You want her to be yours. You want her to be yours, so you can drag her and the kids away from this madness, far away to a land where the war won’t touch you. Where there is no Iron Throne to destroy the family you have built little by little.

She will never go. Not even after all the boys die. Not even after Daemon is dead, in an incident that’s half an attempt to escape her, half a suicide mission. You have no other choice but to remain by her side, too far in to do otherwise.

Leaving is giving up. Leaving is losing. Leaving is renouncing the Iron Throne, her birthright. She will never go. Rhaenyra would rather tear the realm apart than save herself, and it terrifies you.

What terrifies you more is the fact that despite all the grief, all the pain, you do not regret loving her. You just regret not loving her in the way she deserves, in the way she has been asking for. The clothes, the hands, the bruises. Only now do you realize Rhaenyra has been trying to mark you, claim you. And it’s like you two are finally speaking the same language.

“Promise me.” You whisper against her hair, as you lay in bed together. “Promise you will never take this off.” And you are slipping her a silly thing, a medal of the Mother you always carry with you for protection. It’s not exactly your house’s jewelry, or your cloak, as a man would give to a wife.

Rhaenyra laughs. She finds your devotion to the Faith of the Seven silly. But she gets it, anyway. She puts the medal on, close to her heart.

You loved her differently now. No longer your silver Princess, your childhood companion. In your chest, curling around your heart, a dark possessive thread rests, tying you to her. Finally, you meet her in the middle.

Rhaenyra has always loved you like certain things are meant to be loved. In secrecy. In the dark. Not of her own will, but yours. Rhaenyra didn’t care what others thought. She had been so bold before, trying to get you to step in the light for once. You had not realized it at the time, you had not been ready. You had worried too much.

And now, with no time to worry left, with death threatening your doorstep, you realize exactly what you were missing out on. Every time she walks away, chain glistening between her breasts, you get a secret thrill. She is yours. You know it. It’s your mark Rhaenyra wears close to her heart.

[thebetawolfgirl]

The Chanel Ribbon: The Wedding

Word count: 1,858

Pairing: Timmy x reader

Summary: Timmy finally marries the woman of his dreams.

Warnings: SMUT! And just pure joy, a bit of laughter and a bit of teary eyed sweetness!

The Chanel Ribbon: The Wedding

Timothée had finally proposed to his beloved y/n and they finally engaged from last month. They were sitting at home discussing wedding plans while laying on the sofa. It was proving to be difficult, because both sides of the respective families all had their opinions and suggestions about what kind of wedding they should have. One of y/n’s cousins thought they should have a big lavish wedding, an old aunt thought they should get married in a church, but although Timmy was half Christian on his dad’s side he didn’t practice.

So they had shut the curtains, switched off the phones and laptops and any other form of communication and shut everyone out.

They were currently talking about their all time favourite movie, as a break from the wedding talk.

‘We should’ve just eloped as soon as we got engaged.’ Timmy suddenly joked from his spot behind her.

Y/n chuckled but her head suddenly began to spin with ideas.

‘You’re hilarious Chalamet, but your mother would kill you.’

‘True. And if Pauline would help bury my body’ he got up asking if she wanted anything from the kitchen he shook her head no going back to her magazine.

But when he disappeared she quickly messaged Mark and asked him to do some things for her. It was a long shot but if anyone could help her with this particular thing it was his father. She sent the message and got a response almost instantly. She wrote down the information given and put it away until she perfected her plan.

Timmy came back in with some snacks and cans of soda and she smiled. ‘I said I didn’t need anything’

‘Yes but if I had just came back with snacks for me you would’ve be eating them all’ she rolled his eyes and grabbed a bag of chips.

‘Listen, I was just thinking, let’s go away for a few days. Just us, you’ll be doing SNL soon then we won’t have time. I think a few days off will be good.’

He nodded as he turned on the tv pulling her against him. ‘That’s actually a good idea, where abouts were you thinking?’

‘Hmm… How about France? Just to get away from all this stress and we can just relax.’ She looked at him nodding while watching tv.

‘We could get our own villa, with a swimming pool and I could wear that new bathing suit I bought.’

His head snapped towards her his entire attention on his fiancée now. ‘I haven’t had the chance to wear it for you with all of this going on.’

‘Uh-huh’ He watched crawl closer to him.

‘I could bring it and I could try it on-‘

‘I’ll book the tickets now’ she smiled as he grabbed his phone and started looking for early flights to France. The snacks were forgotten on the coffee table as he concentrated on his phone.

She went to move off him and he looked up frowning and whined like an injured puppy. ‘Heyyy’ he made to drag her back but she moved away. ‘I need to pack and I’ll let your parents and sister know we’re taking a few days off, then I’m all yours.’ She walked past him kissing him on the head as she did and hopped upstairs quickly texting Pauline telling her everything about her idea and for her and her parents to meet them at the exact location. Nicole called in tears saying it was such a kind and beautiful thing to do for Timmy and that he would love it. Mark called just to say ‘Thank you y/n, for doing this for my son.’

A few days later they arrived in France and it was beautiful weather despite it being August. Timmy was confused as to why y/n asked him to bring a shirt and tie and his good blazer. ‘Because we may go out to a nice restaurant and you can’t go out in your usual jeans and hoodie Timmy’ Timmy agreed reluctantly and reminded himself y/n was rarely wrong about this kind of thing and this would be the first step in obeying everything his wife wanted.

Their time in France was beautiful, they ate amazing food they visited all of the tourist attractions and Timmy even took her to where he spent his summers. They made love in the evening and she did try on that bikini and he ended up taking her right there in the swimming pool.

They ended up staying longer than intended, one day y/n wanted to go to this little village in the French countryside which Timmy found odd because there was hardly anything in it. She had told him to wear his suit and she wore his favourite dress the simple one he had bought her.

They reached the small village and they stopped in front of an old church, Timmy looked at it confused and looked back at y/n who was smiling at him.

‘Y/n, where are we?’

‘I wanted it to be a surprise.’

She spoke softly holding his hand.

‘This is the church your grandmother married your grandfather in.’

Timmy gasped and his eyes widened before filling with tears.

‘I wanted your grandmother to be with us when we got married.’

He looked back at the old church before grabbing y/n by the back of her neck and crashing his lips to hers and kissed her as the tears fell from his eyes. He broke the kiss and whispered ‘Thank you.’

She smiled nodding and took his hand leading him towards the church where his parents and his sister were waiting for them along with y/n’s parents and sister. As soon as Timmy saw his parents he rushed over to them burying his face in his mother’s shoulder sobbing gently. ‘Mama’

Y/n new he missed his grandmother dearly so it felt right to get married in the same church she did.

Timmy moved from his parents embrace and hugged his sister before turning to his future in-laws and hugging them.

After the greetings and preparations Timmy stood at the alter waiting for his bride. This was better than any lavish wedding and the fact y/n did all of this for him, in memory of his beloved grandmother sealed his confidence that this woman, this incredible beautiful woman would be his and only his. He would watch her soar with her music and they would support each other and have that happy ever after.

They exchanged their vows in French and sealed their bond with a kiss and walked up the aisle husband and wife. Equals.

They had a small private meal at their favourite in Paris and then went back to the villa. Timmy asked both families if they wanted to stay with them but they already got somewhere to stay. Y/n’s parents were staying with the Chalamet’s at the family villa.

They all bid their goodbyes and the happy couple went back alone.

Y/n smiled as she knew Timmy just wanted to get her back to the villa to have her to himself.

Her theory was proved right as soon as the front door was locked he shoved her against it and attacked her mouth.

He picked her up in his arms and carried her bridal style upstairs to their bedroom and shut the door with his foot before setting her down.

She reached for him sliding his jacket from his shoulders and letting it fall to the ground, he pulled her against him by her waist and buried his face in her neck and whispered ‘Wife’

Her breath caught in her throat and she whispered back ‘Husband’

A choked gasp escaped his throat and he groaned against her neck nipping her shoulder, they shed their clothes quickly and she pushed him gently to sit on the bed before climbing on to his lap.

The place was in darkness but he could feel her fingers trailing along his chest as she made to push him backwards, but he flipped her over so she was underneath and began kissing and nipping her lips before moving down her throat and all the way down.

She took a deep breath as she felt him at her thigh and heard him gasp and smirked. She had tied around her thigh the Chanel Ribbon instead of the traditional lace garter. She heard him groan and felt the ribbon being pulled off her leg and suddenly see him above her ‘You’re so bad’ he still had the ribbon in his mouth and she took it from between his teeth before wrapping it around his neck and tying it in a bow around his throat

‘Oh’ he breathed out softly at the feel of the satin around his neck and she grinned at his surprise.

‘You can proceed now’

He looked at her through the dark with wide eyes in shock before he dove down and began devouring her holding her legs open as she cried out and gripped his curls.

He began moving his tongue up and down her bundle of nerves before poking his tongue inside of her making her slam her hand against the railing above her head.

She knew she would have bruises where he was holding her hips down as he went down on her and she didn’t care.

She was close to coming and so pulled on his hair to bring him back up and dragged him to her by the ribbon around his throat smirking when he gasped. He groaned as he flipped them onto his back and kissed her hard before letting her sit up and sink down on him, they both groaned and started moving together. She untied the ribbon and pulled on both ends with her hand pulling him slightly and smirked as he grunted in surprise. She leaned down and met his lips and they kissed passionately as they rode each other hard.

Timmy held onto her digging his fingers into the skin of her back leaving scratches and slamming his hips against hers meeting her force before rolling them over and burying his face into her neck. His arms were trapped around her shoulders underneath and he could feel her dragging her nails down his back. He growled out against her neck at the sting of her nails and grabbed the bed railing using it for leverage and slammed into her harder, hearing her small gasps against his shoulder ‘T-Tim- I’m-‘

She cut off and arched into him as he thrust a few more times before coming with her his hand sliding down the headboard as they breathed heavily against each other.

After catching their breathes they lay in bed together and he played with their entwined fingers as she lay her head on his shoulder. He looked at their wedding rings and smiled softly as they glowed in the dim light of the moon shining through the open window.

‘This was just the beginning’ was Timmy’s last thought before he fell asleep in her arms!

@sufferingstarlight

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@gatoenlaciudad

[cottoncandy-cult]

Babysitting

I used a wheel to determine which guys I'd write for~

Intro:

"So…Why do you have a stranger's kid?…" (Y/n)'s lover stared blankly at her; a singular eyebrow quirked as he watched how she cradled a sleeping child to her chest. "One of my friends amongst the seamstresses is having to babysit her nephew because her sister is ill, since I've already finished all my commissions I offered to watch him for her." She giggled, gently brushing her fingers over the child's chubby cheeks. Her lover seemed skeptical about toting a kid around the castle, but because of how much fun she seemed to be having he had been willing to just let it happen.

Shingen

The large male chuckled from where he sat next to (Y/n), sipping his tea as he watched his lover settle the baby in her lap so that he was sitting up with his back against her torso. She was currently entertaining the baby with a puppet his aunt had brought from home for him, she was so focused on the giggling baby that she hadn't noticed Shingen's loving stare. At first, he wasn't sure about having an infant in the castle, but (Y/n) had handled every moment like a champ. Even the infant's cries hadn't been enough to frazzle her, instead she went about soothing him with a smile. The scene was enough to make him think, he had been with (Y/n) for some time now and since they were officially married the next logical step was a family. It wasn't something he had put much thought into previously, but seeing his wife playing with and taking care of this baby was enough to have him confronting himself over his own thoughts and feelings of the future. Shingen didn't come out of these thoughts until (Y/n) moved to sit beside him, the little baby giggling happily as its tiny hand grabbed hold of his sleeve. With a warm smile and large gentle hands, Shingen lifted the baby up to his level. "Not even 3 years old and you're a lady killer, what are you parents gonna do with you?" The baby giggled loudly as Shingen gently bounced him up and down, (Y/n) taking the moment of freedom to snag a skewer of mochi and begin digging into her own snack. "He really is adorable; his parents must have amazing genetics." (Y/n) giggled, watching her husband play with the baby boy was she ate her snack. She couldn't help but focus on her lover's grinning face, she took a good hard look at his features as she did her best to imagine him as a baby. She'd be lying if she claimed to have never thought about having a family with him, many early mornings were spent getting ready together and wondering how things would change when they had a child of their own. She couldn't help but gaze at the love of her life, wondering what he had looked like as a baby. Given how big Shingen was, she was confident he was the chubbiest of babies. A thought that made her cheeks flush as she smiled, the thought of having a chubby baby just made her happy.

Of course, Shingen had similar thoughts, especially when they walked through the Castel town and the children would recognize his goddess. The way they get so excited, wanting nothing more than to play and talk with the woman he loved. Sometimes he found himself daydreaming, wondering when the day would come that he'd be looking up from his desk to find his dear wife nurse the fruit of their labors. He's already worked out a few designs for some baby furniture, wanting to make it himself so he knew it was made right. He and his wife had discussed the baby furniture of the future before, the things she described gave him a lot of inspiration. "He's quite small, I was almost afraid to hold him at first." Shingen chuckled, resting the little boy on his leg and gently bouncing him. The large man couldn't help but chuckle as the little boy squealed happily, tiny hands gripping Shingen's sleeves as he bounced comfortably. "i know, it's been so long since I last babysat. When I first saw him, I was almost surprised he wasn't smaller, I forget sometimes they aren't as small as dolls." She giggled, reaching over to gently brush her hand against the thin layer of hair on the little boy's head affectionately. "Perhaps it's my height, but all babies seem absolutely tiny to me." Shingen chuckled, watching her give the boy some affection as she ate. "Probably, you are bigger than most other grown men so I can only imagine how little he must look to you." She giggled, putting down her skewer as she moved closer to Shingen and leaned into his side. She wrapped her arms around one of his, her head resting on his shoulder as she closed her eyes with a soft smile. Shingen could only chuckle, the little boy leaning back against his chest as he seemed to finally tucker himself out. "Now that's a good idea…" Shingen's low voice rumbled in his chest as he spoke softly, gently shifting the little boy to rest in his arm. "Since you finished your snack, why not come here and join me for a nap. The weather is wonderful." Shingen opened his arm, leaning back against the wall as his dear wife smiled at him and shook her head in mock-shame. "I suppose a nap won't hurt." She moved closer to him, slipping under his arm now and snuggled into him as she rested her head on his chest. Shingen had the boy cradled on his lap, leaning against his torso comfortably. It didn't take long for (Y/n) to sleep, Shingen had stayed awake a bit longer though. He wanted to enjoy the sight of holding his lover like this, looking down on the boy and that was how he KNEW it was about damn time he spoke to his wife about starting their family.

Kanetsugu

Kanetsugu stood speaking before a crowd of other vassals, it was a pretty standard meeting so why were these men staring at the man of the house? Because sat on his hip as he spoke was a 3-year-old girl, she was awake but quite content with the gentle bouncing and the sound of Kanetsugu's voice. His wife had to run into town to buy some stuff, so he had offered to watch the little girl since he had nothing to do after this meeting was over with. The little girl had been absolutely smitten with Kanetsugu, lighting up every time she saw him in a way similar to how his wife seemed to brighten whenever he'd come home at the end of the day. It made Kanetsugu chuckle whenever he saw it, this little girl reminded him of both his wife and his younger siblings. He took great part in raising his siblings, he remembered when they were all little like this and those memories were quite dear to him. At the end of the meeting Kanetsugu made his way to the kitchen, paying no mind to the odd stares he got and the whispers that followed him down the hall. He wanted to get the little girl a snack, so he planned to fix her some peaches since they were soft and easy to eat. On his way there he noticed his lover on her way down the hall. She was coming from the direction of their room, meaning she had dropped off her shopping. The young woman's face lit up; he couldn't help but give a slight smile at how she rushed up to him with her own wide grin. "I take it the meeting is over? Thanks for watching her while I ran into town." (y/n) smiled, reaching out to playfully poke the little girl's side and listen to her giggle. They exchanged the little girl, who had smuggled into (Y/n)'s chest. No doubt the woman was a bit more comfortable to lay on, for obvious reasons. "I was on my way to the kitchen to get her a snack, so it's perfect timing on your part. It'll be easier than cutting a peach one handed." He gently took her hand, since getting married, he had begun doing this any time they were together. She was his wife, something he was proud of and more than willing to display. "Food sounds good, lunch should be coming round soon. So hopefully she'll be done eating before then and we can eat without too much trouble." (Y/n) smiled up at Kanetsugu, the little girl resting on her arm and curled against her chest. She was sucking on her thumb, content with the steady sway of the woman's walk cycle.

"Maybe if we're lucky we can put her down for a nap after her snack, she hasn't had one today yet so it's about that time anyways." Kanetsugu lead his lover to the kitchen, his free hand running through his own hair as he found his gaze wandering away from the sky as he took in the sight of his lover with her friend's baby. It was such a domestic sight, something that made an odd feeling stir in him. He had never actually thought about it in depth, he knew he wanted a family, but he had never put a whole lot of thought into it. But confronted with the glimpse before him, it was like something was stirring awake. He no longer just wanted a family with her, he needed one. The thought of having evidence of their love made his heart speed up, a sort of primal shift growing inside of him at the thought of her having his child. It wasn't just animalistic desire though; his protective instinct was starting to twitch awake. To have a family with his wife, that would truly be his peace. It was like a new goal came into focus; one he couldn't wait to discuss with her later once the little girl had gone home with her mother for the night. So, for now he had to settle for gently squeezing her hand, giving her a fond gaze as he watched her talk about her experience at the market. When her gaze suddenly caught his, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Leaving her flustered as he released her hand and stepped through the threshold and into the kitchen. She stood at the doorway, watching him with curiosity as she failed to fight the love-struck smile that crossed her face when watching the man, she loved prepare food for the little girl in their care.

Motonari

Motonari watched his wife with a grumpy pout, on her lap was a 4-year-old that had proven to be the bane of this man's existence. This little boy would not accept anyone but her, and God forbid Motonari be allowed to hug or touch his wife. The boy didn't throw a hissy fit, oh no, worse yet the little boy would hold his palm out to Motonari with a firm but docile "No." With the most expressionless stare Motonari has seen in his life, he hadn't been able to so much as hug his wife with this little boy around. The kid refused to be held by anyone else, he was always giving Motonari such a blank faced stare and it never failed to make the man laugh out of mild frustration. The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous he felt. He was competing with a kid for his wife, and it wasn't even his kid. At the end of the day, this kid goes home with someone else, so there is NO competition. Each time Motonari reminded himself of this, rolling his eyes at the jealous side that was near desperate to hold her hand. Though there was some odd part of him that was satisfied with watching his wife interact with this little boy, even when he was fussy, she was calm as can be when handling him. Plus, there was the pride he took in having a wife so loved by so many people, she was the prize jewel out of all his treasures. Currently the two were waiting for the little boy's aunt, (Y/n)'s friend, to come and pick up the little boy for the night. The sun was an hour or two from setting, and he was doing his best to be patient as he had a staring contest with the little boy. At least until the child reached out to him, making a grabby motion that had (Y/n) lighting up. "Aw, he wants you to hold him!" She was excited, moving closer to Motonari, who for just a moment was panicking, he did not have a plan for this particular option. So he had let his wife lead him into holding the little boy on his lap, the boy sat with his back to Motonari's chest. His little head was leaned back on Motonari's collarbone, he still had one hand holding onto (Y/n)'s finger so she had to sit against Motonari's side. Seizing his chance, he slid his free arm around her waist as his other was draped over the boy's stomach to keep him steady.

"I guess you respecting his boundaries earned his trust, that's so sweet." She smiled brightly, nuzzling Motonari's shoulder in a way that never ceased to make him melt inside. This was a situation he had never imagined in his life, the male having never actually thought about having kids of his own. Sure, he knew kids existed, but he never thought about HIS kids existing. This whole situation felt so surreal, looking down at his lover and this child no longer felt real. All of a sudden it felt dreamlike, as if he was discovering something for the first time. A wide array of emotions overwhelmed him, from a strange anxiety to what could only be described as an intense contentment. He had come a long way from the person he was when he and his wife first met, but even still to have such a large discovery out of nowhere was almost startling. He hadn't felt like this since he first realized he truly loved his wife; it was a feeling that could be described with the word emotion. It was so much at once, and yet he felt calm in an odd way. His face was flaming, silently staring at his lover as he processed everything. Of course she had noticed his stare, she had trying speaking to him, but he never responded and now she was simply flustered by the look he was giving her. It was almost innocent, the flustered look mixed with confusion and surprise. Leaning forward she placed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, suddenly bursting the bubble he had previously been absorbed in. It took every ounce of self-control in him not to jump, he had already embarrassed himself enough today. The hand that had been around her waist came up, pulling her close and tucking her head into the crook of his neck as he tried to hide his flustered state. These new realizations had him feeling energized in an odd way, he simply had to have her close right now. He knew the look on his face was probably quite out of character for him, and he was embarrassed to admit how little control he actually had over his current behavior. He wanted to hide his emotional state, and what better way to do that then basking in the affection and the touch of his wife that he had wanted all day. Once the boy was returned, he planned to spend the rest of the day and night with his wife in their room. He wanted only her presence, only her voice and scent. Only her.

Masamune

(Y/n) currently sat at a banquet between her boss Nobunaga and her lover Masamune, across from her was Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi. Meanwhile in her lap was a 1-one-year old little girl, the niece of a friend that was taking care of her sister until the woman's husband got home from work. Because of that (Y/n) had brought the baby to the banquet, it was fairly late, and the baby was full from where (Y/n) had taken the baby home long enough to eat and give the mom a chance to see her. The little girl had been quite content after eating, and so now she was happily babbling away at Keiji while Masamune fed his wife a bit of rice. "I shouldn't be surprised you volunteered for such a task; you always do manage to find the most amusing situations." Mitsuhide chuckled from across the woman, drinking some sake and letting a servant refill it. "She was a little fussy at first, but once she got comfortable with us it got a bit easier. Her aunt should be back to get her soon. She's just waiting for the woman's husband to come home to take care of his wife." Masamune chuckled, sitting close to his lover's side as he'd raise bites for her to take and fed her her meal before he had even touched his. He had spent most the day doing paperwork, which left (Y/n) to bear the brunt of the child's care. He wanted to give her a small break and help out now that he wasn't busy, plus he had been wanting to give her some love all day. She was just too cute, playing with and fawning over the baby girl currently in her arms. Looking at the little girl he could admit she was cute, but he just knew their baby would be even cuter. If he had a little girl that looked just like his wife, he'd be over the moon. In truth he wanted a larger family, something he and his lover had discussed many times. They want quite a few children; they hadn't really been trying for kids as of late but also hadn't been avoiding it either. But today made him feel it was time, seeing the way she cared for the little girl, even when she screamed and cried, had reaffirmed in him that they could do this, and it was about time to take the first steps officially.

Once his wife had finished her food he had set the chopsticks down, using one hand to hold one of her own as the other brought his cup of tea up to his lips so he could take a sip. "It seems so natural; I was worried you'd struggle with her when I first saw you in the halls this morning. But you seem to have everything under control." Hideyoshi smiled, taking a bite of some roasted vegetables while observing the baby girl in his friend's lap. Despite all the noise she almost seemed ready to fall asleep, the group laughing at how her tiny head bobbed before she finally gave up and completely rested across the woman's lap as her haori functioned as a makeshift cover. "I won't lie it was hard to be calm sometimes, but I eventually found a good rhythm for cycling through what she wanted or needed until I could find what I needed. Then it just kinda got easier to tell what she was wanting, plus after visiting her mom to drink her fill she's been quite content and a lot less fussy." (Y/n) giggled, gently rubbing the baby's stomach with her free hand. She watched the baby sleep with a fond gaze, her mind wandering to places that her observant friends could easily predict. For Nobunaga, Mitsuhide, and Hideyoshi; it was the same look Masamune got any time they noticed him watching her interact with the little girl. Oh yes, they knew it was only a matter of time before they had children running about the castle whenever the pair would come to visit from Aoba. "Well, at least you'll have practice for when you and Lord Masamune have a child. It'll be quite the sight to see." Mitsunari spoke openly with a fond smile on his face, and as flustered as it made her, (Y/n) couldn't fight the smile she felt forming on her face. She'd be lying if she said taking care of the little girl made her wonder how things would be when they DID have their own child, she'd love to have a little boy that looked just like her husband. Though she had known for a while she wants more than one child, as aware as she is of what childbirth is like in this era she wouldn't miss the chance to have the family she desires with the man she loves. "You guys will be the first we tell when I fall pregnant, I promise Mitsunari." She giggled some, at least until she felt Masamune's arm wrap around her waist. "It'll be more than that, we'll be staying here during your pregnancy that way I can be sure of your safety. Plus, Ieyasu will be a boon to have on standby." The blonde let out an indignant snort but said nothing back. The fussy blonde being surprisingly quiet about Masamune's desire to have him care for Hime in such a state, and none of the other warlords seemed bothered at the idea of a pregnant woman waddling around the castle. Something that both embarrassed (Y/n) and made her feel overjoyed, as she knew she had everyone's support when it came time for this new step in her life.

Kenshin

Everyone stared intently at the trio during a war council, sitting in his usual place was Kenshin. And as per usual, he was the one making a scene. In his lap sat his wife, odd but not entirely unexpected. And then on her lap was a little boy, a 4-year-old she had volunteered to watch during the day for her friend who was caring for an ill family member. The group had been stuck at the hip since the little boy's arrival, though at first Kenshin had been a little jealous and that had been why he was being more openly affectionate than usual. But it was less than 2 hours before his reasoning shifted, some part of him deeply enjoyed watching his wife happily interact with the child. He had thought about having a family with her for many years, even before they had married. Though he had yet to put his desires into words, he didn't want to pressure her and had originally decided he'd just wait for her to approach him when she was ready. But now, while Kanetsugu went over his report for his recent observation mission, Kenshin wanted nothing more than a way to bring up his desires without pressuring his love. Starting a family was a big deal after all, he didn't want her to force herself into something she isn't ready for just to try and please him. Kenshin was staring off into the distance, his chin resting on the top of his lover's head while the little boy in her lap played with a stuffed animal. His vassals watched, absolutely astonished. Even Shingen was quite intrigued with his friend's behavior, meanwhile Kanetsugu could feel his eye twitching as he figured out long ago his Lord was barely listening, and they'd probably have to talk about this again later. Of course (Y/n) wasn't dumb, she could tell what everyone was thinking, and she did kind of feel bad for Kanetsugu. Before Kanetsugu left for his mission Kenshin had the Fearsome God of war, when he returned however he was Kenshin Lord of the bunnies. Sure, he still went to war, but he had changed in many ways. Kanetsugu could recognize the good, but he often found himself surprised at how (Y/n) brought out a childlike behavior in Kenshin.

Sometimes it made Kanetsugu want to laugh, but when his Lord is just blank face no thought staring at him in the middle of a war council, he wanted to throw something. Not that he actually would. He tried to soothe himself by observing his Lord's situation while he spoke, knowing that at least Shingen, Yukimura and Sasuke were listening. From the outside, you'd almost think they were a family. A thought that did calm the white-haired male's irritation, his Lord seemed so content. Kenshin was always quite happy when he had (Y/n) in his lap, but the addition of the child seemed to bring something out of the male. Kanetsugu didn't miss how his lord had gently pulled his wife closer, the blonde man's hand occasionally coming up to pet the little boy on the head absent mindedly. It only further reassured Kanetsugu's expectation that this is likely going to be the future, he wasn't quite sure how he was gonna handle this, but he was sure it was going to involve late night drinks with a recap of the war council. By the time Kanetsugu had come to this conclusion he had finished his explanation of the survey he had been sent on, and as he stepped back to return to his previous seat Kenshin seemed to realize that everything was over. On the outside Kenshin seemed somewhat normal, but Kanetsugu could see the slight surprise in his lord's features upon realizing he had missed the entire council. "I see, I do have a few questions, but we can discuss those later. Is there anything else that needs to be discussed?" Kenshin gazed around the room, wanting to make sure there wasn't anything left to discuss before he dismissed the meeting. When it was concluded that there was nothing else to talk about, Kenshin released everyone to go back to their daily duties. "It's almost time for lunch Kenshin, did you want to go out to eat? The weather has been nice the past few days." (Y/n) smiled, leaning back so that she rested against his chest. Her head leaned back against his shoulder, and she pressed a kiss to his cheek with a warm smile. After the door had been closed and everyone left, she let the little boy up so that he could explore the room a bit. Where the two adults sat, they could see every corner of the room and could easily monitor him. "Sure, we can make a date of it. The little one won't notice, and we can stop by a tea house for dessert after if you want." Though Kenshin didn't really like sweets, he still enjoyed the tea house atmosphere while he watched her enjoy her desserts. "You know me too well." She giggled, pressing another kiss to his cheek as they spent a few quiet moments in each other's arms. Watching over the little boy in front of them, both having only the thought of discussing family with each other at the end of the night.

[thegettingbyp2]

Hotchxreader where reader is Jack’s teacher and Hotch has a huge crush on her, where ever you take it from there is up to you!

Out of Class

When you started your job, you were told that Jack Hotchner was always picked up by his Aunt Jessica; his dads job always got in the way of being able to pick Jack up from school himself. However, since your second week on the job, you realised that Jack’s dad had been there to pick his son up every day. However, it wasn’t until you had been Jack’s teacher for about a month before you plucked up the courage to speak to him.

From the moment you’d set eyes on him, you’d found Mr Hotchner incredibly attractive. He was exactly your type; tall, dark hair, dark eyes, overall, incredibly clean cut and you couldn’t help but be intrigued as to why, all of a sudden, he was there every afternoon, 3pm on the dot to pick Jack up.

‘Hi, you must be Mr Hotchner,’ you greeted when you walked over with Jack at the end of the day.

‘Hi, call me Aaron,’ he replied with a charming smile as he shook your hand.

‘I’m really sorry for asking, but I was told that it would be Jack’s aunt picking him up,’ you spoke, trying not to blush at the smile that seemed to be lingering on Aaron’s lips as he looked at you.

‘Oh, I just thought that I didn’t want to miss Jack growing up so I’ve cut my hours at work so I can pick him up and spent more time with him,’ he said, ruffling Jack’s hair affectionately.

‘My daddy has a crush on you,’ Jack said, making Aaron laugh nervously and your cheeks flush bright red.

‘Why don’t you go and play with your friends for a little bit bud,’ Aaron prompted, nudging Jack in the direction of his friends who were kicking a football around the playground. As soon as Jack had run off and was out of earshot, Aaron turned back to you, his own cheeks flushed red. ‘I’m really sorry about that, Jack just has this idea that I - ’

‘It’s fine, really,’ you replied, cutting of Aaron’s rambling. ‘Kids say a lot, you don’t have to worry about it.’

‘Exactly! And I’m sure you’re happy married or something so I’m sure you don’t need to have Jack telling you about his dad having a crush on his teacher who is part of the reason why he started turning up at the school at least twenty minutes early, just in case he gets the opportunity to talk to her.’ Aaron said, a nervous chuckle making its way from his throat as he rubbed his palm on the back of his neck.

‘Actually, I’m not married, and I’m not with anyone either,’ you said, smiling shyly at him.

‘I know,’ Aaron replied, grinning at you now. ‘I’m a profiler at the BAU, I just wanted to give you an out when I ask if you wanted to go on a day, you know, out of classroom hours?’

You let the giggle bubble out of your chest as you took a step closer to him, Aaron’s hands tentatively coming out to rest gently on your waist. ‘I’d love to,’ you replied, smiling up at him. ‘But I am going to have to ask that you don’t spend the date profiling me.’

‘I promise. I can pick you up Friday night at 7?’

‘It’s a date,’ you replied, kissing his cheek lightly before turning around and heading back into the school.

What you didn’t see was Jack running back up to Aaron when you left. ‘Did she say yes?’ he asked, out of breath from playing with his friends and running back over to his dad.

‘She sure did bud!’

[rosanna-writer]

we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (23/?)

Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches. Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~4k

ch. 1 - 10 | ch. 11-20 | ch. 21 - i wouldn't marry me either | ch. 22 - burn all the files, desert all your past lives | ch. 23 - i've still got love for you

Some text in this chapter is lifted directly from ACOTAR book one.

I am also over the moon and insanely honored to share that there is now ART OF THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THIS FIC!!!!! It's by the love of my life Amnevitah, and you can go make heart eyes at it and tell her she's wonderful over here on her tumblr (warning that it's mildly NSFW).

Read on AO3 or you can find the twenty-third chapter below the readmore.

It was nearly midnight when I made my way to Nesta's bedroom in a borrowed nightgown, late enough that the servants were gone and Elain was sound asleep. I knocked on the door once, and she ushered me inside without a word.

Like the rest of the manor, Nesta's bedroom was full of furniture fit for a palace and utterly devoid of personal touches. It might as well have been a guest room.

I hovered near the door and watched Nesta open a hidden compartment in the writing desk near the window. She pulled something out and placed it on a side table. I stepped closer to get a better look.

A chunk of wood. The edges were rough, as if it had been ripped from something. I started to ask her where it had come from, but when I spotted the tangle of vines I'd painted on it, I understood.

"I had to watch as Father and Elain went from sobbing hysterics into nothing. I had to listen to them talk about how lucky it was for you to be taken to some made-up aunt’s house, how some winter wind had shattered our door. And I thought I’d gone mad—but every time I did, I would look at that painted part of the table, then at the claw marks farther down, and know it wasn’t in my head. So tell me everything and leave none of it out," Nesta said quietly, sinking down into the chair by the desk.

My heart broke to think what she'd gone through—what Tamlin had put her through. His lies to me might have been in service of saving his people, but there was no reason for my sister's sanity to be collateral damage. Tamlin had paid my father off, then washed his hands of the matter without bothering to ensure that his glamour had worked.

It was sloppy and thoughtless, and not for the first time, I wondered how many people ultimately would have died if I'd stayed in the Spring Court a moment longer.

I sat on the bed, tucking my feet under me, and started at the beginning. The very beginning, fifty years ago when Rhys had gone to that damned party and Amarantha had taken over.

I'd barely gotten a few words out when Nesta was already interrupting. "Is your High Lord too stupid to employ poison-testers?"

"I…I don't think any of them do, actually."

"It seems Prythian is ruled by idiots, then. Perhaps that explains why this Rhysand married you."

"You know nothing about what Rhys has been though," I hissed, clenching my teeth so I didn't yell the words and wake up Elain.

Nesta waved a hand, an elegant, dismissive gesture. "Then continue."

So I did. And to Nesta's credit, she listened intently, her lips pressed together in a thin line, as I described the curse, my arrival in Prythian, and those early days in the Spring Court.

Somehow, it calmed something within me to tell the whole tale again now that I knew everything. I wasn't used to having a confidant, and I couldn't remember a time before this that speaking to Nesta had felt like a lightening a burden.

It was strange, but not unwelcome.

I braced myself when I started to describe my first meeting with Rhys on Calanmai. Nesta had once sneered at me for rutting in the barn with Isaac Hale—I was sure she'd have some choice words about a mating frenzy that had taken place in a cave.

But she merely furrowed her brow and said, "Your marriage was….arranged, then? By the stag?"

I nearly snapped and told her no—I'd specifically told Rhys not to marry me, after all. And Nesta knew he wasn't my husband. But…she'd never feel the pull of a mating bond for herself, and the concept was completely foreign to her. Perhaps this was the way to make her understand.

"By the Mother herself. The stag merely…cleared our path to each other. I'm not sure what would have happened if it didn't, but I think it probably saved us quite a lot of heartbreak, in the end."

"That's such an odd way to speak about a man you've been shackled to against your will," she said, shaking her head.

The Inner Circle had also been horrified when they'd realized I'd accepted the bond without knowing what I was doing. If even Nesta was worried about it…perhaps there was something wrong with me for not being more distressed. But even though I'd had to go Under the Mountain for Rhys, I still felt profoundly lucky that everything I could possibly want had just been dropped into my lap on Calanmai.

I shrugged. "There's no reason to be upset when I would have chosen him for myself anyway." That was the truth at the center of everything.

There was a flicker of understanding, and—if I wasn't mistaken—relief in Nesta's eyes. "And I take it he feels the same?"

"Yes."

"Good." There was an edge to her voice, and I wondered what she would have said if my answer had been no.

There was still so much to tell her, so I continued, describing my arrival at the Night Court—though I didn't mention Velaris, merely said that Rhys had directed me to a warded home. Nesta didn't ask about the tattoo the magic had given me, just scowled at my left hand. She said nothing about my immortality either, instead interrogating me about the Inner Circle and their ranks and roles and relations to Rhys.

They were, perhaps, the sort of questions I should have asked on that first day. But unlike me, Nesta knew how to get the lay of a land in a noble court and assess her place in it.

If my eldest sister were dropped in the Court of Nightmares, I had no doubt she'd be running it within a day.

I hadn't spoken about Under the Mountain at length with anyone but Rhys before that night, and getting the words out under Nesta's uncompromising steel glare was difficult. My sister and I weren't linked through mating bond and shared experience. My voice shook, and at points I felt faintly sick, but I managed to tell her everything.

Even with Rhys…I'd needed to hold back. My own few weeks Under the Mountain paled in comparison to his decades there alone, and I knew on some level, even though I'd never voiced it aloud, that he'd had it worse than me. Without even realizing it, I'd been carrying around a prickly sort of guilt over that.

Once, I would have spent several days with a paintbrush in hand until I'd gotten those feelings out, but since I could barely stand to look at a canvas anymore, it all had been festering inside of me.

So to my immense embarrassment, I cried in front of Nesta.

For once, she didn't say anything harsh, just wordlessly handed me a handkerchief. I didn't mind—it would be strange for her to coddle me. Instead, she pretended nothing was amiss as I wiped at my eyes and finished the rest of the story, all the way through my trip to Illyria and the Weaver's cottage and the attacks on the temples.

At the end of it, Nesta merely said, "This is all the more reason you shouldn't come back here again."

I could see her logic, but that didn't make it any less a kick in the teeth. "Elain and Father deserve proper goodbyes."

"It's too much of a risk," she said, eyes flashing dangerously. It would be ugly if I tried to fight her on this; Nesta, who had once put herself in front of Elain and left me to the beast that broke into our cabin, would always protect our middle sister, even if that meant casting me aside.

I should have been used to that by now, but it still hurt.

"Then at least allow the sentries around the manor to stay. There are far too many fae who would wish us harm, and their numbers will only increase if war breaks out like we fear."

"As long as the sentries keep their distance."

They would, but of course Nesta had no reason to be sure of that. A thought struck me. "They answer to Cassian, Rhys's general. I could send him to meet with you and discuss the specifics, if that would ease your mind."

I expected Nesta to balk at interacting with any more faeries, but she asked, "Does he listen to orders?"

"He will if you give them. My position as Lady of Night makes you and Elain something akin to princesses in Prythian." Mor had explained it to me once, though I wasn't interested enough to remember the details about ranks and noble titles. It would matter to Nesta, though.

She nodded once, then stared down at her hands, which were folded in her lap. "Thank you," she said, a bit more softly, "and for what it's worth, this is easier, knowing you've gotten everything you deserve. After that beast took you away, it's a relief, truly, to know that Rhysand loves you and is keeping you safe."

I stilled. It was beyond a doubt the kindest thing Nesta had ever said to me. I hadn't thought she'd cared at all what had become of me in Prythian.

"Elain said—said that you tried to visit me," I said, my throat so tight I barely got the words out.

"I got to the Wall. I couldn't find a way through."

“You trekked two days there and two days back—through the winter woods?”

“I hired that mercenary from town to bring me a week after you were taken. With the money from your pelt. She was the only one who seemed like she would believe me.”

“You did that—for me?” Rhys was the only person in the world that I'd truly believed would bother, and no matter how much he loved me, a mating bond made everything different. Mor had tried to soften the truth on my first day in the Night Court, but even she had admitted the Inner Circle was duty-bound to protect their High Lord's mate, and I'd only become their friend later.

"What Tamlin did to you—it wasn't right. None of it was right."

Nesta finally met my gaze, and for once, the fire in her blue-grey eyes wasn't intended to burn me. We weren't drowning anymore—the lifeline of her anger was unnecessary now, and she knew it. In her darkened bedroom in a too-clean manor, we'd found just enough safety that she'd let me know she cared.

Underneath it all, Nesta cared, more deeply and loyally than I'd been able to comprehend.

There were no words for that. I launched myself at her, and Nesta went stiff in my arms as I embraced her. She didn't hug me back, just…patted my upper back awkwardly after a moment. I didn't mind—that was downright affectionate from her.

I pulled away and said, "If I'm unable to return here, will— will I at least be able to write?"

"Is there a way to ensure your correspondence stays private?"

I caught the meaning behind that—Nesta was confident in her own ability to keep a secret, but she knew too little about my own situation to be sure I could do the same. It wouldn't have crossed my mind—after all, I hadn't even learned to read until Rhys ensured I was taught—but my sister had been expected to marry a prince one day. She'd been trained for a life where sensitive letters falling into the wrong hands could cause a reputation-ruining scandal.

She was right to ask, though, so I explained how paper spelled to vanish was used to pass messages across Prythian. And by some miracle…she agreed to let me leave some with her.

"Rhys can deliver it tonight, if that's alright," I said; I'd feel better knowing it was in her hands when I left. Nesta nodded her assent. "Give me a moment to ask him, then."

Ignoring the grimace Nesta made as my gaze went distant, I gave the gentlest tug on the bond I could. I was still met with a wave of blind protectbitemaimkill panic the moment Rhys's shields dropped. He hadn't expected to hear from me until morning.

All is well, I said, reaching for the beast. I could feel its hackles rising in the back of my mind.

With a mental hand, I scratched a sensitive spot on its chin, right under the maw with its rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth, the thing that threatened to gobble up sleeping fae in their nightmares. Its eyes closed at my touch, and it purred like an affectionate cat.

Nothing's amiss. I just have a favor to ask, I added.

Anything. You know that, he said. I was dimly aware of a spiral of anxiety—some sort of fear that I didn't know that. Stroking the beast's flank like it was a nervous horse, I kicked the worry away.

If it's not too much trouble, could you please bring us some of the enchanted paper you use for correspondence? I'd like to make sure Nesta has a way to contact me directly.

Talons shifted into fingers that gently tucked an errant strand of my hair behind my ear. There's no such thing as too much trouble where you're concerned. Call for me again when you want me there.

Thank you. Just as I'd kicked away his concern, I felt his claw shred my lingering discomfort at asking him to do something on my behalf.

His mind began to pull away from mine, but he stopped halfway. Are you sure you're alright? The emotions on your side of the bond seem to be…churning.

I hesitated. There was no point in lying, but I was tempted to say we'd talk about it later. I didn't want him to worry any further, either. For now, I could give Rhys the bare minimum. I learned that Nesta tried to go to the Wall and bring me back after I was taken. She wasn't able to get through, though.

An image flashed across the bond before Rhys could stop it—a female with his pointed ears, violet eyes, and massive wingspan. She was standing on one of the footbridges that spanned the Sidra, her head thrown back in raucous laughter and the lights of the Rainbow sparkling behind her. A happy memory, but at the same time, it felt like looking at a painful, howling void.

Another younger sister whose elder sibling hadn't been able to save her. But unlike me, she didn't have a mate who'd eventually swooped in and brought her to safety.

I'll see you soon, Rhys said, then dropped his shields before I had a chance to respond.

Nesta quickly pinned her hair up and changed into a gown, but I didn't bother. Regardless, it gave Rhys time to pass through the Wall again. When she assured me she was ready, I gave another light tug on the bond.

Rhys appeared with nothing more than a gust of night-kissed wind so gentle it barely made the curtains flutter. He held a small, black-and-silver box in one hand, identical to one I'd seen holding blank paper on his desk in the House of Wind. He'd had the good sense to hide his wings, and the leash on his power was tighter than I'd ever felt it.

Even when he subdued himself, Rhys still felt too enormous and otherworldly for this side of the Wall. Between the night still clinging to him and the width of his obnoxiously broad shoulders, he seemed to take up the whole room.

And yet, as if he were an entirely normal person and none of the current circumstances were bizarre, he pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek and said, "Hello, Feyre darling."

To her credit, Nesta didn't flinch. Or hiss at him. Which already meant this was going better than I'd anticipated.

Before either of them could make this worse, I said, "This is my sister, Nesta Archeron. Nesta, this is my mate, Rhysand."

To my shock Rhys bent at the waist and bowed—actually bowed—to my sister. Polite and graceful, his upbringing as a crown prince on full display and all signs of the Illyrian warrior hidden.

Nesta's face was frozen in a mask of cold indifference. "No surname?" she said, and those two words were enough to let a nasty implication hang in the air—that Rhys wasn't pedigreed, despite being a High Lord.

His mother had been a seamstress, after all. If I didn't know better, I would have thought Nesta could smell that on him.

Rhys didn't blink. "Archeron. Or at least, it will be when we're ready to make the mating bond public knowledge."

It was a small miracle I caught myself before my mouth gaped open in surprise; he hadn't told me he'd intended to take my name. A glimmer of wicked amusement and a twinge of pride floated down the bond towards me.

Nesta, however, just cocked her head like she was sizing up an opponent, almost exactly the way Cassian did in the training ring. "I won't be mocked in my own home. You can leave."

"I'd rather be known as Feyre's mate than my father's son," Rhys said, picking invisible lint off his tunic in a gesture that was clearly calculated to look as nonchalant as possible. "I'm not mocking you. Feyre is an infinitely better person than he ever was."

Nesta went quiet. I wondered if it was as strange for her as it was for me to hear someone call me good and mean it. Rhys glanced at me, his expression melting into something soft for a moment, and Nesta tracked his movement like a hawk.

Before the silence stretched long enough to become awkward, Rhys held the box of stationery out to her and added, "This is for you."

Nesta flicked her hand towards the writing desk, an imperiousness gesture of a queen directing a servant. "Top drawer on the left," she said. An order, not a request.

She was testing him, I realized. Or had thrown down a gauntlet. Maybe both. Whatever was happening between Nesta and Rhys was some sort of courtier bullshit I was too feral to understand. Rhys did as she said, and I wasn't sure if that meant he'd lost or conceded something.

Regardless, there was no reason for Rhys to linger—and I suspected my sister would bite his head off if he tried. He said something blandly polite to Nesta about it being a pleasure to finally meet her, kissed my cheek again, and winnowed away.

When he was gone, I looked at Nesta expectantly and braced myself for whatever cutting remark was coming. She was already grimacing as if he'd tracked mud all over the floor.

My chest squeezed. Not that I needed anyone's approval, but as mates, Rhys's and my coupling had been had been quite literally blessed by the Mother herself. And I'd spent years shrugging off Nesta's scornful comments about damn near every choice I made.

I shouldn't have cared what she thought. But…for whatever reason, in this matter, I did.

"You two are so besotted with each other, it's disgusting," Nesta spat. It was congratulations enough.

I smiled. "You aren't the first person to say that about us."

There wasn't much else to discuss after that. Nesta and I sat in silence together as we burned the chunk of wood from the table in the fireplace in her bedroom. I felt something settle between us as the last piece of the cabin that she'd been holding onto was reduced to ash.

I returned to my room and managed a few hours of sleep before slipping out of the manor before dawn without saying goodbye. Before bed, Elain had said to bring the paints that she'd bought for me back to Aunt Ripleigh's, so I took them with and left her the first thank you note I'd ever managed to write by myself.

It was easier to go without facing either of my sisters again.

When I met Rhys in the woods, I threw myself at him so forcefully that he stumbled back a few steps and nearly hit a tree. "I missed you too," he said, hooking an arm under my knees as he scooped me up to fly.

Something about being in the mortal lands again—or if I was truly honest, being around my family again—had reawakened that stupid, childish part of me that wanted to cry out until I was fussed over. A bit embarrassed, I pressed my face to his chest and wished I could scent him like a faerie. But instead, all I could smell was the laundry soap we both used. Maybe that was better than nothing.

"It was a long night," I said, and he pressed a kiss to my temple.

The world faded to smoke and shadow, and then I felt that peculiar sense of being torn in two for the space of a heartbeat as we passed through the Wall. Rhys could have winnowed us again, but he continued flying above the sea for a while, probably to get the practice in to strengthen his wings.

Being cradled, his warmth and nearness, the rhythm of wingbeats, the salt air…it soothed me. Dawn was breaking, turning the sky and the sea golden. Rhys, painfully beautiful as always, was positively glowing in the light; his skin was returning to a healthy brown, the unnatural paleness from years underground almost gone. I wanted to paint it.

"With Nesta, why were you so…" I said, then trailed off, unsure of the right word. Rhys's whole demeanor had been subdued, but there had been more to it than just that. Now that I thought about it… "You didn't smirk once. That's not like you."

His face was solemn. "If my sister had inadvertently accepted a mating bond, I'd expect her mate to have his tail between his legs when she brought him home to meet me."

Once, I would have scoffed at the idea Nesta cared at all about how a man or male treated me. But she'd tried to save me. If Rhys had seemed at all like a threat, then…Nesta would have faced down the Lord of Nightmares to get me back.

I still didn't quite know what to make of that.

"Would you have tried to get my father's blessing if he'd been there?"

"Cauldron, no. You're your own person and make your own choices." He sounded affronted I'd even suggest it.

"Then why be so restrained around Nesta?"

"I don't like being thought of as an ill-mannered brute."

I could imagine how often insults like that had been flung at him for being Illyrian, probably from people just as adept as sneering down their noses as Nesta was. And yet, even though I knew Rhys well, it was still a bit strange to hear from a faerie when so many of his kind considered humans to be half-wild beasts below their notice.

Strange, but…not unwelcome.

"For what it's worth, you're not all ill-mannered brute at all," I said, smiling, "but you are a prick, though."

Rhys's wicked grin was the only warning before he gripped me tighter and tilted us into a barrel roll so swift and dizzying that I would have emptied the contents of my stomach if I'd eaten. I screamed, but the wind tore the words away.

He laughed, and it was impossible to snap an irritated response when the joy was so plain on his face. We settled into a smooth glide.

"We need to winnow the rest of the way back soon," he said once the roaring wind died down. "Cassian wants to spar, and if you're late for training, Az will ensure you pay for it."

I wouldn't expect anything less. We faded into the morning mist, and when the Night Court materialized around us, I'd never been happier to be home again.

[shewrotesomething]

The Day He Realized He Wanted to Marry You (Unknown)

Marriage was a distant thought to Saeran. He never really considered it. With everything that’s happened, really, it’s the last thing he could even begin thinking of. That was fine, you never pushed him to jump into anything he wasn’t ready for. 

He could remember the day he changed his mind though, or at least, felt a shift in his heart. 

At the time, some days were better than others. And when they weren’t… they really weren’t.

His brother had to be out of town for an entire week, and so, the two of you figured to stay at your place for a few days. 

He had a terrible time falling asleep. Too many thoughts in his head. Thoughts such as, if you wake up one day and decided you didn’t want to bear his burden with him, well, he wouldn’t blame you. Thoughts such as, the longer he spends with you, the more he’d ruin you. Thoughts such as, he wanted to be okay. Just for a day. To be okay so you wouldn’t have a hard time.

A nightmare came for him that night. Nothing gruesome. Or perhaps it was. He couldn’t remember anymore. All he knew was that he grasped for your presence, only to wake up and realize you were gone.

His heart leapt to his throat and he ripped his sheet away to reach for his phone on your nightstand. A text message read: Heeeey, I had to leave super early. I have to deal with an emergency. Didn’t want to wake you. Tell me when you’re up though!

He was frustrated, immediately. First, at you, for leaving so early, then at himself, for thinking such things. It’s fine, he’ll deal with it. He had to learn to deal with his emotions by himself. He had to learn to be stronger for you.

His mood didn’t improve throughout the day. Even when he did some work to get his mind off of it.

Saeran slammed his laptop shut and leaned back on the couch. From his seat, he spotted the trash can. It was filled to the brim. Not only that, it couldn’t even close with how much trash there was. He remembered telling you to take that out 2 days ago, why is it still there?

The door clicked open then and you strode inside with a bag of groceries. “Oh hi, you’re up. Didn’t you see my text?”

He did. He didn’t really want to reply.

His lack of reply didn’t deter you. “I ran into an old classmate on the way home, she’s inviting me to a party, but honestly we weren’t even that close so I don’t know if I should go. I remember she once told me I had weird legs…” 

As you narrated your day, you organized the groceries.

Saeran was only half listening. The other half was sitting in a boiling pot of anger and frustration.

“Hey, is everything okay?” you asked when you noticed his unnatural silence. “Sorry that dinner is taking so long, do you want to eat something while you wait?”

Saeran rolled his eyes. “You know what I want? I want you to take out the trash already. It’s been a full 24 hours since I asked you to take it out and there it is. I can’t believe you can live in this kind of mess!”

“Oh, well I—”

“You’ve been walking around in the kitchen for nearly an hour, you don’t notice how the trash doesn’t even close anymore? You remember what your aunt said about your shirt 3 weeks ago but you can’t remember to take out the trash you see everyday? Grow up!”

He watched the expression on your face melt from surprise and confusion into quiet vitriol. Your breath heaved. His throat tightened. Then, came the tears. Your lips quivering with words you refused to release. Only then did he realize he’s gone too far.

Without a word, you put the potholder down on the counter and pull the trash bag out of the can and tie it off nicely. You crossed the room.

“MC, I—”

You held a hand up to stop him before grabbing your wallet and keys. “I love you, but I need a moment,” you told him before you walked out the door.

Saeran’s heart dropped to his gut when he heard the door shut. This was bad. This was really bad. You’ve had arguments before but this was the first time he’s seen you so angry you couldn’t even speak. 

He should go after you. Wait. No. That would be worse. You’ll be back. Right? What you said earlier definitely means you’ll come back. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Saeran bolted out the door. Looking both ways on the street. You were nowhere to be found. 

He messed up big time. Why is he like this? Why her? Of all people why her?

Walking back inside, he tried not to panic. He should call you. His eyes jumped to the couch where his phone sat. He dialed your number only to discover that you had left your phone on the dinner table.

His fault. His fault. His fault. He’s shit. His fault. His fault. You left. It’s his fault. He shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Not your fault. Not your fault. 

Saeran curled himself up on the wall next to the door.

He doesn’t know for how long he sat there. This wasn’t the first time this has happened. He’s snapped before…but… you always stayed. 

You always stayed…

The door clicked open and he sprang out of the ground.

There you were. Despite your insistence to look indifferent, the spot of redness under your eyes betrayed you. He did this to you. His fault. His fault. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it, I promise. I…I’m not okay… I’m not okay. It’s not your fault. I took it out on you and I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave again.” Tears started flowing down your cheeks and nails dug into his heart. He wanted to touch you. Was he allowed to touch you? Please just don’t leave.  “I… I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I’ll do anything, just… I really didn’t—”

THWACK!

A cold object collided with his chest and landed on the ground. Saeran looked down and it was a packet of popsicle ice cream. He bent down to pick it up. When he looked up at you, you had wiped away your tears and had a pout on your face.

“Just eat your ice cream.”

Saeran hasn’t heard a louder I love you.

[sarahs-secrets2]

In Your Wildest Dreams Chapter 2 ˋ♡ˊ

introduction & masterlist ❁ ❁ chapter 1❁ ❁ taglist

duke!leon x fem!reader

easier than it looks, is that jealousy i see mr. kennedy?

word count: 2.1k

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

Aunt Agatha's house was bustling with staff running around while suitors began to line up to formally start their courtship. Your mind was elsewhere though as you sat in your room, getting ready for the promenade. It had been decided you and the Duke would meet to show everyone that the two of you were “officially” courting. Little did they know of the ruse established just the night prior. 

“Dear,” your Aunt cracked open the door, letting herself in. The staff who helped you get ready quickly scurried out to give you both privacy. “Might you be gracing us with your presence in the tea room? A group of suitors eagerly awaits your arrival." Your gaze was fixed on the mirror, spritzing a perfume onto your neck. Your eyes meet hers in the reflection, her expression was one of confusion. Aunt Agatha was the last person you could sneak something passed, she was observant to a fault, always taking notice of the smallest details. Hence why she asked, “Where do you presume you are venturing off to?”

Your eyes avoided hers, finding ways to busy your attention by flattening out a ruffle in your dress. “Promenade,” you waited for a reaction, to which you received none. “With Duke Leon of Clyvedon.” Turning around in the chair to face her now you could see evidently she looked pleased. 

"I am most delighted to see you’ve taken such a liking to the Duke. Her Majesty shall be positively elated once she witnesses her matchmaking skills working so well, and so early,”

“Is it possible to dismiss the suitors to tomorrow perhaps?”

“Why of course I’ll attend to them at once. Now go,” she laughed as she helped stand you up from the chair, “I will not have my niece miss out on becoming a Duchess because she is behind schedule.” And with that, you were sent off quickly in a carriage to meet the still ever-mysterious Duke Leon. 

On the other side of town, the infamous Duke rolled out of bed, hastening to get ready quickly. For you see, the Duke was not in his bed hence the late arising. The night prior, after the ball, Leon had found his way and ended up with a “lady of the night”. Plush red bedding surrounded him as he was reminded of the sinful activities that had occurred just hours ago. The girl stirred awake at the sound of the Duke getting dressed, her head peeking up from the covers as she hid her body under the sheets. 

“Where are you going so early?” she beckoned him to come join her back in bed.

“Promenade,” Leon was curt, he knew after today all eyes would be on him until you found your official husband so this was his last opportunity to have a night of fun. The girl seemed confused at the Duke’s answer as he was not known to partake in social events of the season, so whatever reason he was going it must have been of the utmost importance to him. Leon was out of the door and quickly hopped in his carriage, heading straight to the park to see you. 

Now it may seem distasteful of the Duke to partake in such sinful activities, but as an established man who has no intention of marrying, this was all routine for him and many other men of the sort. Just because he had a ruse established with you did not mean he was going to stop on your behalf but just halt his discreet activities until it was all said and done. 

The park was vibrant, with a large portion of society in attendance at the day’s promenade. While waiting for the Duke you found yourself engrossed in a conversation with Lord Redfield. It was innocent, being a gentleman Lord Redfield saw you waiting under the willow tree and approached you. 

“Are you waiting for someone?” the voice caused you to jump a little as you turned around to see who it was. 

“Ah, Lord Redfield,” you smiled as you curtsied. Lord Redfield was cute, well-established, and overall quite perfect. An easy catch though, and he was missing that one thing. He wasn't the Duke, he did not carry the same mystery as the Duke, and he definitely did not excite you like the Duke. Lord Redfield was a safe option. “I am just waiting for the Duke of Clyvedon, have you made his acquaintance?”

“Oh?” he seemed surprised, “Leon, yes I’m aware of his business in London. We’ve crossed paths a few times of course.” You waited for him to elaborate but he did not, information a lady was not privy to of course. The two of you began to walk along the gravel paths, your eyes occasionally scanning the park looking for the tall blonde-headed Duke. Alas, he still had not arrived, you began to worry if he had called off the plan entirely already. 

Leon hopped out of the carriage, straightening his jacket as he made his way to the willow tree to meet you. Pulling out his pocket watch, he huffed out noticing the time and how late he ended up being. All eyes were on him as he quickened his pace to get to the willow tree quicker. If he did not know any better he would say he was excited to see you. Almost as quick as the thoughts penetrated his mind, he pushed them down, drowning them with the reminder that he would not marry. This was all a plan to benefit you both in the end, marriage was not on the table for him.

As he approached the willow tree, he realized you were not there. Had he been that late? Did he miss you entirely? Leon’s eyes surveyed the park trying to spot you, and there you were. Walking alongside another man, not Leon. His heart almost stopped, and a tinge of jealousy began to sink into his veins. Perhaps the Duke was still coming down from his wild activities from the night prior when something overcame him as he stomped his way to you.

“Ah, there you are,” his hand quickly snuck around your waist pulling you closer to him, and further away from Lord Redfield. There was that feeling again, a spark flushing your skin when you felt his touch on your waist. Your stomach churned, your face felt hot, what was this feeling?

“Your Grace, I’m so glad you made it,” you beamed up at him, trying to hide the rush of emotions you still had yet to identify. 

“Please accept my apology for being so late, I had some business affairs on my father’s account I had to finish,” his eyes pleading. As genuine as he sounded it was impossible to read him, and it did not help that he was so entirely intoxicating. You thought he looked handsome at the ball, but today was something else. Unlike the prior night, today his silver-toned blonde hair was pushed back with a stray strand resting on his forehead. He sported a dark jacket, with hints of gold and pale blue throughout. The Duke sure knew how to dress. 

“Of course your Grace, I understand. Thank you for making time to see me today,”

“Affairs,” Lord Redfield scoffed, glazing over you as he stared down Leon.

“Lord Redfield,” the Duke looked unfazed, smiling back at Lord Redfield who was scowling at him. Leon’s hand still was firm on your waist, keeping you close to him. “Thank you for keeping her company in my absence. He is a true gentleman is he not? Always stepping up when you least expect it.” Although Leon’s words were kind, sarcasm was dripping as he eyed down Lord Redfield. Almost as a warning to stay away from you. 

This was where the Duke’s mystery came in, if he did not wish to marry you then why was he being so territorial right now? Why was he scaring away a potential match?

“Well,” Lord Redfield offered you a sympathetic glance, although you weren't sure why. “I’ll take my leave, miss,” he placed a chaste kiss on the back of your gloved hand. “Enjoy your day, I hope I have the chance to make your acquaintance again, sooner rather than later preferably,” he paused before taking a step towards Leon, “Enjoy your affairs, Leon.” And with that Lord Redfield walked away, leaving you and the Duke alone.

“Am I allowed to ask what that was about?” you turned to face Leon, his hand dropping from your waist. Immediately you missed his grasp on you. 

“Which part?” the Duke chuckled slightly, extending his arm for you. Obviously, it was fun for him to ruin your chances with a suitor. You linked your arm around his as the two of you began to promenade around the park. 

“All of it,” glancing up at him, but his eyes were glued straight ahead.

“Let us enjoy this day, not get fussed with the little things,” he looked down at you smiling. You decide not to probe him deeper, he was already assisting you this season better to just keep him happy. 

“Fine, if you insist,” you wrapped your arm around his tighter, “This plan of ours, we will need to come up with some of the guidelines,”

“Such as?”

“Balls, gifts, the customary plans of courtship,” the idea of these things excited you, but your heart really began racing when you pictured the Duke being the one you did it with. 

“I cannot be expected to do all that, can I?” his tone shifted, obviously unaware of the entire extent of the plan he created. 

“You must, it is the only way this arrangement works,”

“If you insist, but I cannot attend every single ball. I have my own business to attend to if you recall.”

“I am well aware your Grace,”

“Just Leon, please I cannot remind you every time,” he teased, stealing a glance down at you as the two of you continued on the paths of the park.

“Of course, Leon,” you let his name glide off your tongue making sure to pronounce every syllable for him.

“Mhm just like that, go on,”

“Please make the effort to attend the balls until I have found a proper suitor.” Leon nodded, unable to find the words or a witty joke. He was a perfect eligible suitor for you, he knew it, and there was that voice in his reminding him again that he was to not marry. This arrangement was simply to help you both out. Keep the swarm of mamas and their daughters at bay for him, while attracting only the best suitors for you. The Duke now faced a new task though, he could not afford to allow these budding feelings for you to flourish. “And I will need you to send flowers, preferably today,”

“Flowers?” 

“Customary to signify you are courting me,”

“I see,” he looked lost in thought as he paused for a moment. He stopped walking and turned to face you, “If I was truly courting you I would not need to follow customs, 10 minutes alone would suffice,” his voice low, and husky as he spoke. The sudden change in his demeanor shocked you as you were unsure how to respond in a ladylike way. 

“Expensive flowers, Leon. Today,” you attempted to brush off his comment but the way your body and mind reacted was an entirely different story. 

“Of course,” his bold tone had left him, perhaps it was still the jealousy from Lord Redfield causing him to act in such a way. “Anything else?”

“Do not tell anyone of this arrangement, I need this to remain a secret between the two of us please Leon, I cannot afford a scandal,” you were pleading at this point, but it was necessary to ensure he understood how important this was. 

“I shall not tell a soul dear,” he nodded, sticking his arm back out for you to take again, continuing the promenade. 

What you two did not notice throughout the time at the park, was the mass amount of eyes on you both throughout the entirety of the promenade. The ton would be swirling with rumors, and stories of who the Duke was courting. Are there promises of a new Duchess on the horizon? 

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

briefly proofread pls lmk if there's a jarring typo

tags: @ir3nic-sluvv @mylifedoesntexist @secretsthathauntus @sageslittlelibrary

[ponett]

If it wouldn't be too much, I would like to know what you feel with regards to that ending lol

okay so i'm always extremely conflicted on the way they implied applejack and rainbow dash are married in the mlp finale - more the execution than the actual idea of it. obviously people who have known me since my hardcore mlp fandom days know i was obsessed with flutterdash (and, to a lesser extent, rarijack), but like, appledash is still a cute pairing! it was super popular in the early days of the fandom for a reason

the thing is, appledash kinda fell off in popularity compared to those other ships because the show started downplaying AJ and RD's dynamic after the first season. they stopped having so many episodes playing off of each other, and the writers started putting a lot more effort into exploring and deepening other relationships - like, well, the ones that i shipped. which is why those became my favorites! by the end of the series applejack and rainbow dash had barely had any episodes together in years, apart from one throwback episode about them still being competitive with each other in season 8. season 9 didn't have a single episode about the two of them - and, in fact, the last one-off episode they ever did about any of the mane six was yet another fluttershy and rainbow dash adventure. (not to mention that the equestria girls crew was busy actively implying rarity and applejack were in love by their own admission lmao)

then we get to the future scenes in the series finale and we get one line implying applejack and rainbow dash are married. it was bewildering. again, this isn't me going "how dare they not make MY ships canon." it's just... if you're gonna imply two of the mane six became a couple, something people had wanted for years, why didn't you build towards that conclusion for the characters at all? why did they barely even speak to each other in the final season? we need a whole episode about big mac getting married, but these two can't even hang out? it just feels like they picked an arbitrary ship that was popular in the early days of the fandom and added one line hinting towards it as an easter egg, rather than it being a meaningful attempt at queer representation on the show. because, i mean. that's what it is

after that and the episode about scootaloo's lesbian aunts who she lives with, which actually ended up being mostly about her mom and dad despite being heavily promoted by hasbro as a big special event for pride month, it just left a bad taste in my mouth. even in 2019 this was still the best mlp could give us

[ctrl-alt-em]

A Letter Home

Garnet wandered around the tiny town idly. It was early afternoon and the saloon was empty. It would be a couple hours before she could make a few bucks at the cards table.

Turning a corner, she saw the town’s stable, a small affair near the center of town.

Delacy sat on the wooden fence of the corral, facing a grazing Humble Ned.

Garnet headed towards her young friend. In his lap was his newest ‘The Daring Adventures of Bison Billie’ book and a piece of paper.

Delacy frowned at the page.

Garnet back leaned on the fence next to Delacy, facing the opposite direction. “What are you doing, Delacy?”

“I’m trying to write a letter,” the boy answered without looking up.

Garnet looked at the blank paper. “How’s that going?”

Delacy groaned, “It's a lot harder than I thought I’d be.”

“Who’s it to?”

“My family,” he answered, chewing on his pencil. “They’re probably worried.”

Garnet was surprised. Billie Joe would have been her first guess. Maybe the Tombstone Epitaph, the newspaper he read with Edie whenever they got their hands on it, to tell about their latest monster hunt.

Delacy didn’t talk about his home life much, except about the farm itself. He hadn’t mentioned any siblings, aunts, uncles, or cousins so far. He seemed like he liked living on a farm well enough, but he certainly wasn’t in any hurry to get back there.

The only time he’d mentioned his parents was when they thought he might die in a duel. Garnet still had the slip of paper with the location of his family home tucked inside her Hoyle’s book.

From what she could make out, Delacy’s home life was pretty stable for having lived in Bloody Kansas. She had guessed his hesitation to talk about his family stemmed from his guilt from leaving and left it alone.

Perhaps the guilt of running away had finally gotten to him.

“You know what they’d like the most?” Garnet asked.

“What?”

“To see you in person.”

Delacy looked away and scraped his boot on the wooden railing. He shrugged. “I don’t know about that.”

“Why not?” She shrugged. “We’ll pass right through Vincent on our way to Dodge City. We can stop there for a few days, say hi to your family, get some leads and gossip on Dodge, convince your parents we haven’t kidnapped you, that kind of thing.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Miss Garnet.”

She tilted her head at him, “Why’s that, Delacy?”

“I don’t really get along with my parents,” he admitted. Before Garnet could ask the first question that came to mind, Delacy continued, “They took good care of me and my pa is the one who taught me how to shoot a gun when I was real little and all that, but I think my leaving would’ve been more of a relief for them than anything. I wasn’t the favorite child, I know that for sure.”

Garnet’s face fell. She turned to face the same direction as him and moved closer.

“You don’t think your parents love you?” she asked, gently.

Delacy curled into himself more. Minutes ticked by.

“No, I- I know they love me,” he whispered, “It’s… I just wished they liked me.” He wiped his nose on his hand.

“Oh, Delacy…” She brushed his golden blond hair behind his ear.

Garnet didn’t know what to say. She had been very close to her father as a child. It was only the two of them as far back as she could remember. He’d read Hoyle’s Book of Games to her on his knee and he taught her how to shuffle cards as soon as her hands were big enough. He’d taught her about demons, manitous, and magic after he closed the store at the end of the day. The day he died was the worst day of her life. If she had run away one day on a whim, he would have been devastated.

She settled for leaning her shoulder against his in a way she hoped was comforting for him.

“Did you tell your parents anything you left?”

Delacy hesitated. “No, not really. I didn’t plan on leaving when I did.”

Garnet frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I went to town with my sister, Lucy. She’s married to the doctor’s son. I saw the ad that Victoria put in the paper and I figured it was something I could handle. I showed it to Lucy, then she gave me $15 dollars and took me to the train station.”

“Your sister sent you off on a bounty hunting job?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. Delacy nodded.

“Are you and your sister close?”

Delacy grinned a little. “Yeah, Lucy’s the best.”

Someone sending her beloved kid brother off to shoot people didn’t quite sound right to Garnet, but, then again, she also took the same kid to shoot people.

“Well, why don’t you write the letter to Lucy and ask her to tell your folks you're doing all right? Surely she would have told your parents what happened, right?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. I like that idea better. Thanks, Miss Garnet.”

She patted his shoulder. “It’s what I’m here for.”

Garnet climbed up on the fence next to Delacy and pulled out her Hoyle’s book. She flipped through the yellowing pages of the book her father once owned. She smiled at the old memories as Delacy scratched away at the paper next to her.

When he was finally finished, Delacy held the letter up critically before deciding it was good enough. He hopped off the fence. “I’m gonna head to the post office.”

“I’ll head with you.” Garnet slid off the fence and ducked between the railing back out of the corral. “Then why don’t we head back to the saloon? I’ll teach you the proper way to shuffle a deck of cards.”

Delacy grinned mischievously. “Does this mean you’re gonna let me play cards with you later?”

“No, I know for a fact Edie and Silas wouldn’t be happy if I let you gamble at cards,” she answered, knocking his hat over his eyes. “‘Sides, I think you’ll have much better luck with darts.”

[wonderlandleighleigh]

96 Thoughts while rewatching the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel Pilot.

1. Midge graduated college early, got married and had her first kid in like a year and a half holy shit girl.

2. That fat joke not great. But ASP is ASP.

3. monogrammed butter pads. Like Disney World!

4. lol the bleaching.

5. Why did the man have to be Joel?

6. Midge why was Joel a gift from god? He was not. He was not a gift from god, the best thing he did for you was help you recognize Lenny when you eventually got thrown in the same cop cruiser.

7. The airplane gluuuueeeeee lol

8. The suit they put Luke in is too big on purpose, to try and make him look older and less attractive and it uh...doesn’t work.

9. Against a tree. Ugh. Not comfortable.

10. “we’re very happy” I love Abe so much.

11. So many angry Jews about shrimp.

12. YOU SHOW ME WHERE IN THE BIBLE WHERE GOD SAYS YOU CAN’T EAT SHRIMP.

13. I wish I lived where there was a dedicated butcher.

14. Poor Midge has no idea that she and Joel are skint because he hasn’t told her shit. God dammit.

15. Spending hours on that brisket. Hours to get it perfect.

16. He hates you, Joel, because you’re a terrible comedian and you don’t deserve a better time.

17. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You’re gonna find out, asshole.

18. Penny Pann cannot use an electric pencil sharpener. She is so fucking dumb. How did she figure out sex if she couldn’t figure out- you know never mind.

19. The music slaps.

20. Remember that no matter how in love Joel is acting in this moment, he’s been fucking Penny for months.

21. MONTHS.

22. He winds up so angry about Midge handling everything for him, but he let her. He enjoyed it. He barely had to lift a finger.

23. Oh Susie.

24. Oh Midge.

25. I owe my soul to the company stooooooore

26. “I should be kissing the brisket!” Fuck you.

27. Jackieeeeeeeeeeeee

28. Blugh.

29. Blugh Joel.

30. Susie knows what’s up.

31. “I was great.” Holy fuck.

32. One standing ovation everyone goes home pregnant. lol

33. We’ve never met Aunt Bertha. I want to. I deserve Aunt Bertha.

34. Fuck, Midge’s routine is so brutal. Paranoidly staying awake until Joel drops off, and then doing her entire routine and sneaking back into bed. Getting up before the sun is up to redo her whole look and then pretending to be asleep. Jesus, not thank you.

35. COMPLETE WITH FAKE EYELASHES UGH.

36. She really thought this was supposed to be her life forever. That this was it.

37. Morning Ethan. Ethan. Ethan. Ethan. E-

38. Rose and the forehead. Ugh. Just the - the physical expectations...so much yikes.

39. lol schnorror

40. Oh Imogene.

41. Again. The every day physical demands are insane. And Midge puts this on herself for the most part, but I do get the feeling that Joel...didn’t help.

42. “I made curry but I also ordered Chinese.” BITCH NO! NO! YOU MAKE DINNER HE EATS WHAT YOU COOKED WHETHER HE LIKES IT OR NOT AND IF IT IS TRULY UNPALATABLE YOU ORDER OUT TOGETHER. God damn, the shit this woman would go through just to make this horrible man happy. Fuck’s sake.

43. Poor Midge, realizing that Joel is stealing material. Thinking at first that someone stole his stuff.

44. THERE IS AN ENTIRE ENORMOUS BOWL OF LEMONS ON THE TABLE! Are they wax? Jesus that’s so many.

45. “It’s fine, everybody does it.” Feh.

46. “When I found out June Friedman stole my meatloaf recipe I almost stabbed her in the eye with a fork.” Big Lorelai vibes.

47. “You’ll learn.” Fuck you, Joel.

48. Midge made another brisket when Baz asked for latkes....

49. Midge is never on time. Just FYI.

50. Joel not getting his way gets shitty. We start to see how terrible he is here. The cracks of her being berated for things she can’t control. Like ted the moth.

51. He’s not a comedian, Midge.

52. LOL Susie. “THE CLEARYS ARE HERE?!”

53. The jerkoff motion lol. Love it.

54. Who here likes Hillbilly polka?! Me! I do!

55. SPOKANE!

56. Watching Joel bomb is rough. I absolutely hate this scene. If there’s one thing this show does well, it’s showing people bomb. And how bad it can be. It really is like chewing tin foil. Like nails on a chalkboard.

57. No one cares about your holey sweater, asshole. You cannot tell a joke.

58. It is so hard to watch. It is so hard to watch. Holy shit. Holy shit just stop stop Joel stop no no no no no no no no no.

59. And of course he blames Midge for his bad performance. Everything is her fault. He cannot take responsibility for his lack of talent. It has to be her fault.

60. And she’s trying to be supportive. She’s trying to be kind about this. And he’s just...awful.

61. Like i get that this was a bad night for him, but his lack of ability to deal with his life is atrocious.

62. And he’s leaving her because suddenly this isn’t what he wants, even though he’s been relying on her for their whole marriage. He loves it when things go right. He cannot deal when things don’t go his way.

63. “Nobody’s happy, it’s Yom Kippur.”

64. “he was in Buchenwald, throw him a bone!” lol I love this line. It’s a particular bit of very Jewish gallows humor that’s hard to come by in pop culture, and it’s what sold me on the show when I watched it for the first time.

65. She had no idea this was actually his dream. He never told her. They never talked about his dreams, or her wants. They don’t talk to each other.

66. BECAUSE YOU KILLED IT. It’s true.

67. “Do you know what a dream is?” What a terrible - god dammit.

68. YOU NEVER TALK TO HER ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS YOU PIECE OF SHIT! YOU NEVER TALK AND SO SHE HAS NO IDEA! You fucking asshole. God damn. 

69. You cannot expect your partner to know everything without telling them. That’s just moving the goal posts around day after day. Jesus.

70. “I will be better. I will do better.” Poor Midge. god dammit.

71. He is so awful. I cannot believe I sit through scenes of this terrible man. He is the fucking worst. And he has been from fucking jump, and he’s only gotten marginally better.

72. “SO YOU”LL TELL YOUR PARENTS FOR ME?!” WHAT THE FUCK!

73. Joel Maisel is the WoooOOOOooOOOOOOooorst!

74. “I’m sorry.” You’re not sorry at all.

75. Though I think that was the only time he ever really said it.

76. I love how much Abe loves television.

77. “What did you do?” Ugh. Ugh.

78. “That was about deli, too.” lol

79. omg Rose. Her character development is amazing.

80. “You cannot survive this.” Yeah she can.

81. Girl I’d get drunk too.

82. favorite gif:

83. It’s a Pyrex. My Pyrex.

84. Joel did not want to be challenged. He wanted to be coddled.

85. Midge her shirt was on inside out because she put it back on after fucking your husband girl.

86. THEM TITTIES

87. LENNYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.

88. For how much of an unforgiving hardass Susie can be, she also is very sympathetic to Midge when she’s falling apart

89. One standing ovation, everyone goes home pregnant.

90. lol eating chips on Yom Kippur mood.

91. 10 in the morning?!

92. You’re not my wife.

93. Their chemistry from jump was just amazing. He was only supposed to be a bit part and...yeah. They just...the way they look at each other, even from the beginning.

94. And she just waits patiently for him to finish his schtick. She knows he’s just gotta work through his little song and dance to get to her answer. They have a rhythm from the beginning.

95. THE FUCK BOY SHRUG.

96. Yeah. He loves it.