#and if i dont take on more work i will officially no longer be paying my bills next month

[skyjynxart]

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[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU part 12

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Part 8 is here. Part 9 is here. Part 10 is here. Part 11 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

You and Silas stared at each other.

"What do you mean "okay"?"

You nod. "Okay, I'll marry you."

He looked at you suspiciously. "Why?"

"Why not?"

"That is not an answer." He frowned, making you sigh as you turned your body to face him completely. "Look, you're going to pay me anyways right?" He nodded. "So, I need the money, and well... lets just say I have nothing else left to lose. Maybe I'm just bored."

Bored? More like pissed at the universe and I will not let it beat me to the ground anymore. I wont go out without causing chaos and maybe if someone tries to kill me again, I will perhaps consider disrupting the historical timeline to make the universe itself combust and unravel. If I'm suffering, I'm taking the universe along!

Silas gave you an incredulous look, before shrugging in defeat. "Very well, then."

"Wait-" You stop him from getting up. "Why did you choose me? Actually, why do you need a wife?"

He rolled his eyes, standing up, you following along. "Come on, Silas. Tell me. Is it cause I'm pretty? Smart-"

"You dressed as a man."

What?

"What?"

He looked down at you. "What? You didnt think I'd spot you in that poor disguise at the newspaper office that day?"

Silas saw me that day? He recognised me?

"How did you even-" He scoffed. "I'm intelligent. And I have eyes. I notice everyone and everything." He turned around and began walking away.

"Wait!" You ran after him. "That still doesnt answer my question! You're marrying me because I dressed like a man? What- you're attracted by that-"

"Stop talking." Silas cut you off abruptly. "I chose you because you work at the newspaper, not because you're a man."

"Oh. So you need someone to write out articles singing your praises?Cant you just pay someone to do that?"

He rolled his eyes. "No. I dont need someone to sing my praises. I need you to be the mole there. I want you to report everything that happens at the paper, specifically about the murders thats been on going these days."

Murders? Murders-

"The White Chapel murders?" He nodded. "I need the papers to focus on them, not on me or who I am marrying. I need them to put the pressure on the cops to catch that sick bastard! Not idolise him with that stupid alias-"

"Jack the Ripper." You finish for him. He breathes heavily, anger radiating off him. "Yes, that. Because its only causing people to either admire him for killing off those prostitutes or fear him, letting the idea of them terrorise them!"

"I see. But... why do you need to get married to me for that? I mean, if you pay me, I could just report to you everything from there, including his letters."

Silas looked at you in slight annoyance, as if mad that you couldnt figure out his motives.

"The papers are focusing on me and my marriage. If I get married, the news will only run for a week or two before diverting their attention to the papers. And before you ask why I'm marrying you specifically instead of someone much better suited to my tastes-" okay, not gonna take that insult to heart. "- I told you, you work at the paper, which means you'll report everything to me. And if I were to marry someone more influential, the papers will continue to write about us for longer. But you? You're a nobody- believe me, I checked. You have no family, dont come from nobility, so no one will talk about you. "

Great. "Wow, you do know how to flatter a woman."

Silas smirked. "Trust me, "a woman" would be flattered-" You shot him a glare before he could finish off his joke.

-

Silas and you got married later that night. He arranged an out-of-town priest, some official documents, and two witnesses for the vows, which were his butler Cadbury and his wife, Erin, who acted as the best man and maid-of-honor. It was obvious that Silas wanted to keep this ceremony a secret, and he told you that the time will come to break the news.

When the priest asked him to kiss you, SIias pulled a face and said to skip over that part because you had bad breath. You did not. Jerk.

But you were glad you didnt had to kiss him, so you didnt bother kicking his shin. Maybe nearly dying so many times has made you grow a pair, or maybe its the fact that you dont actually consider this a real marriage because a Nikkah (an Islamic wedding) ceremony did not happen, so technically, you're still single, but you're surprised at how... calmly you've come to terms with everything.

Silas let you go back to you house, because the marriage was the still a secret so there's no use keeping you around at his place. Besides, he needs you to continue working on the murders.

Honestly, you do kind of want to find out who Jack the Ripper is. Any historian worth his salt, dreams of this very opportunity you've been given- to find out the man behind all the horrendous, gut wrenching murders.

Colin watched you get up from your desk and go to the corner office where Will was working on the murders. Poor Will. Colin pitied the lad- he had to deal with the gruesome details of the murders, write out the articles in details that are just pallatable enough for the readers, only to be rejected by the editor who wanted the front page news to be about Silas FitzGeorge.

What were you doing there? Colin didnt think it was best for you to go in there, after the depressing weeks you'd barely pulled yourself through. Grisly details of a killing spree might not be what you need at the moment.

"Hey Will!" You walk in his office, changing your voice to that of a man.

"Holmes." He acknowledged you briefly, his hair a mess as well his desk. If anyone knew how giddy you were everytime someone in the office called you Sherlock Holmes, you'd be labelled a loser for sure.

"Still working on those murders, eh?" You walk closer to his desk. "Any leads on who the mystery man might be?"

"No." He glared at you. "I would, if the coppers were to do their job and the editor published my work, but noooo. God forbid we miss any details on that FitzGeorge fella and his tragic life. Cry me a fucking river-" Ah, a fellow Silas hater. You can work with that.

"Let me help you." You offer him. Will raises his brow, before scoffing. "Unless you can somehow have the editor publish my articles, I dont think you can help me. Besides, I dont need an amateur disturbing me because he's just wants to see a dead body."

Amateur? Pfft, I'll have you know I was a minor celebrity on Wattpad at just age 11 when I wrote Sherlock Holmes fanfics-

"How about this? If I can convince the editor to post your work, will you let me help?"

Will stares at you, studying you for a moment.

"Fine."

You walk out of his office and go to your desk where Colin is already waiting for you.

"Hey, Colin." You greet him, sitting down as you pull a blank sheet of paper from your drawer and start writing on it.

"Hey... Sherlock. What were you doing in-" He leans down to read what you're writing. "Jack The Ripper- why are you writing about him?"

You shrug. "Why not? He's an important figure to talk about and needs to be caught. If the papers bring enough attention to him, it'll put pressure on the authorities to work harder to catch him."

"I get that, but- I mean, you already have the FitzGeorges to write about and what about other douches in high society?" Colin tried to persuade you.

"I'll write about them too, in fact. Dont worry about it. I'm going to bring you some real dirt soon." You tell him before picking up the pen again, but Colin grasps your wrist, stopping you.

"Y/n, I just dont think that you should be working on this right now-"

"Colin." You cut him off, freeing your wrist. "I'm grateful for your concern for my well being, but I assure you- I am not made of glass. I can handle my business. Besides, this is something that has intrigued me. Let me work on it, please." You say before returning to writing down your points on the homicidal maniac.

-

After work, you changed out of your disguise and went to the antique store on Regent street, or what was left of it.

You knew there was no chance, but something inside you hoped that your time machine had survived.

The store was burnt down, and since the interior was mainly made of wood, most of the antiques had burnt to ashes or at least, damaged beyond repair and could not be sold.

You stood outside the ruins off the store, the property was sealed off and guards stood outside it, not letting you in.

"Please, I just need to-"

"Like I said, miss. We were given specific instructions not to let anyone in." The guard cut you off, annoyed by your insistence.

Before you could argue again, someone walked up behind you.

"Y/n." Henry looked at you. He was dressed well, his hair combed and face shaved, well kept as he usually was but his eyes.... he had bags under his eyes. Like he hadnt slept in days.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, um- I just wanted to see if my stuff is still there."

He nodded at his guards to step aside, leading you inside the shop.

"Look around. See if you can find it." Henry's tone was flat, as if he already knew.

Still, you looked around. You searched the whole place, not even finding the remains off your machine. And how could you? It was made of mostly plastic and very cheap metal, its not like you had funds to make it indestructible.

Or incombustible.

"Satisfied?" He asked you when you finally stopped looking for it.

You huff. "If you'd just given it to me before-"

"Y/n." He cut you off. "I lost my store. I lost my employee who was working in here, who was blasted to pieces. I lost more money than you can ever imagine and you have the nerve to stand there and try to blame it on me? After I'd given you the courtesy to look through my property to put your mind to ease?"

He admonished you, all while barely letting his rage slip through his voice. He was holding back from blowing up on you, but it did not help because you still felt small.

Because he is right. He lost an employee. He lost money. He lost too, and yet you have the audacity to complain to him like he was somehow at fault.

And he wasnt. Its not like he bombed his store.

"Do you know who did it?" You ask, diverting your eyes to avoid his piercing gaze.

"No one "did" it. It was an accident." Henry looked at the floorboard. "Apparently, there was gunpowder in some of the artefacts that came from China that day. The employee probably didnt check it when he put it on the table, next to a candle. Then one got lit up and it set off all the others, blowing up the whole store."

That... sounds like a big coincidence.

"Henry, are you sure someone wasnt behind this-"

"Y/n, I dont have time to entertain your wild theories right now. I have to deal with insurance and other things. Please leave." He cut you off abruptly.

Without giving him another moment to bruise your self esteem, you stormed out of his store. By the time you reached home, it was dark, which wasnt the best idea with a murderer on the loose- as the boys made it clear.

"Do you have any idea what he's capable of?! Have you seen the crime scenes?!" Liam yelled at you.

"No. But its not like I'm a prostitute, so he wont hurt me." You answer from your seat between Benjamin's legs, who insisted on brushing the knots out of your hair and placing some essential oils in your hair.

Liam looked at you like you'd grown two heads. "How would he know that?!"

You leaned forward, frowning. "Okay if you're saying that you cant the difference between a prostitute and me, then thats just insulting to me and to you as a police officer!"

Shepherd suppressed a chuckle as he handed a drink to Liam to calm him down. As they continued to joke around, you mind went to your time machine.

Sure, you could try making it from scratch again. It'll be difficult, and not just because there isnt enough technology to make the whole thing by yourself, but also because the mere idea of building a time machine could have you lobotomised.

So yes, one of the reasons why you agreed to marry Silas was because of his money that would not only let you buy expensive raw materials but also allow you to have a space to make the machine in secret.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Colin left to see who it was, returning moments later with a huge box in his hand.

"Its for you." He set the box down and handed you the letter that came with it. You read the letter while the boys opened the box-

"Tomorrow. 7:30 pm sharp.

Dont be late, missus."

The "missus" part gave away that it was from Silas. What was he planning? Were you supposed to go to his place or was he going to pick you up? What was going to happen tomorrow?

"Woah! Who is this from?" Shepherd asked as he looked at the fancy dress in the box. He pulled it out of the box, the gown flowing down effortlessly. "It looks expensive- this is expensive, right? Its expensive." He stated before repeating his question to you. "Who is it from, Y/n?"

You folded the letter as you saw them all looking at you. "I... I might have a date-"

"With who?" Benjamin asked sharply.

"I-" You sigh. "I'll let you know after the date. Lets see how it goes first."

"Oh, come on! Just tell us!" Liam probed, but you took the dress from him, putting it back in the box and taking it to your room, not noticing how silent Colin had went.

-

You stood in front of the mirror, looking at your reflection while Ben did your hair. Wearing the black velvet gown that had a white blouse and long skirt underneath, puffy regency era sleeves and a belt at the bust, you looked elegant.

Seeing as you had no jewellery to pair the outfit with, Ben styled your hair down, curling the locks and putting a dainty black silk bow on the back, trimming the front of your hair so that they framed your face.

"There's a carriage waiting for you!" Shepherd informed you before going back to gushing about the rich fella you'd managed to bag.

You turned around for Ben for the finishing touches. He smiled softly at you, taking your hands in his and squeezed them gently.

"Dont force yourself to do anything you're not comfortable with, hm? Just because he gave you this dress doesnt mean he can do anything he wishes." You nodded, returning his smile. "And remember, you have me and the boys to beat anyone who upsets you, Y/n." He winked making you giggle.

Standing outside the carriage, you looked up and waved to the 3 boys standing in the window before getting inside.

"Ah, I hope she knows how to use that knife I gave her." Liam mumbled, making Shepherd yell at him.

"You gave her a knife?!"

"What? She needs to protect herself when there's a murderer on the lose-"

As the two continued to bicker, Benjamin went to his room and packed some scissors and razors in a small bag, before leaving the room.

"Where are you going?" Colin asked, finally speaking for the first time that evening. Sitting on the sofa chair, he'd been nursing on a drink the entire time you were getting ready for your drink. He kept quiet, pretending to be to engrossed with reading the paper to notice you getting dressed for your date night.

"I... have a client." Ben said, putting on his top hat and leather gloves before wearing his coat.

"This late?" Colin raised a brow.

Ben gave a nod.

"He... he needs a haircut urgently."

Colin stared at him before sighing, picking up his drink.

"Alright. Be careful. Its foggy out there."

-

Sitting inside the carriage alone, you wondered where the buttler was taking you. Since Silas isnt here with you, then its likely that you're being taken to him at the FitzGeorge estate.

You take a deep breath, fiddling with the velvet of your dress. So tonight will be the night he announces his marriage to you. Or maybe not. I mean, if he did plan on doing that then perhaps he'd be giving you some pointers on how to win over his family? To get their approval? It was a big thing for high society, if not for someone who is loosely attached to royalty.

Maybe thats why he called you over tonight. To soft launch you to his family, something like- "hey, this is Y/n, a girl I fancy. I think she might be the one." so that it seems a lot more believable when he does introduce himself as your husband, probably a few weeks or a month from now.

Yes. Silas doesnt seem like the type to just spring up the union on his family out of nowhere. He is English, he is noble, he wouldnt be one to cause a scene.

The carriage stopped after sometime, and you could hear people chattering outside. Your door suddenly opened, but before you could step out, someone stepped in.

It was Silas.

He sat across from you, wearing a formal dress black suit, his hair styled properly. If your dressing didnt give it away, then his did- it was definitely a black-tie event.

He gave you a nod of acknowledgement, looking you up and down.

"Here, wear this." He handed you a velvet lined box. Opening it, you saw a beautiful pearl necklace and matching tear drop earrings.

"Oh, this is... beautiful." You said in awe. "You could've sent this along with the dress, I would've worn my hair differently-"

"No, I didnt want to risk you running off with it." Silas casually insulted you as he began opening the door. "Wear this and dont talk to me or approach me in there."

"Wait, what?" You looked at him confusion.

Silas huffed in irritation. "I'm going to go back inside. You'll walk in after five minutes, and when you do, you will not talk to me, or approach me or do anything that gives away that you know me."

"Silas-" But he left before you could question what he was on about.

So... he wasnt planning on announcing his marriage to you tonight? Wearing the jewellery, you followed his instructions and exited the carriage exactly five minutes later.

But instead of seeing the FitzGeorge house, you were standing in front of a... palace.

A palace you're seen quite a few times.

Buckingham palace.

"What am I...?" You whispered to yourself before composing yourself as other guests began walking past you.

As you ascended the stairs to the entrance where guards stood, you wondered if they'd let you in. Surely, without Silas by your side or an official invitation, they wouldnt let you in. You watched a few guests holding an envelope with a royal seal, an invitation they showed to the guards before being let in.

Heart pounding as you feared the embarrassment you're about to face, you reached the guards who looked at you for a few moments, trying to recognise you before their eyes fell on your necklace and they let you pass.

Ah, so thats why he gave you the jewellery. If you looked like you belonged there, then you probably did.

Why am I here though?

You looked around and saw many people inside, all belonging from high society. This definitely wasnt the place where Silas was going to announce his marriage. So why did he invite you here?

Maybe he wants me to use this as an opportunity to get dirt on high society?

Yes, perhaps, but how would this serve him? Is there a specific person he wants me to get dirt on? Someone I need to write about in the papers?

Silas, what game are you playing?

You spotted him standing in the corner, talking with his cousins and uncles, though you noticed many girls looking at him. Of course, he still is the "most eligible bachelor" to them. If they knew how rude he was, maybe they'd change their opinion.

Walking through the crowd, you began listening on conversations, trying to pick up on interesting bits. It was the usual obnoxious bragging about their wealth, some scandals here and there, disturbing comments about women, etc. Nothing particularly interesting.

Fortunately, you werent bored for long as the royal butler announced the arrival of the hosts. It hadnt truly hit you where you were standing until you heard her name-

"Her Majesty, Queen Victoria-"

Queen Victoria. The Queen Victoria.

You could feel goosebumps raising on your skin, your eyes widening as you realised you're looking at one of the most iconic figures in history. Alive. She's alive and she's walking right in front of you-

She's short. They were right about that. Standing next to her husband, Prince Albert, she looked even shorter. But she looked incredibly happy, full of youth as she stood next to him, unlike all the paintings who depicted her as this angry old widow.

She looked absolutely beautiful.

Her children stood behind her in order, all smiling at their mother. Her daughters, you recognised them all, looked just as beautiful. You recognised her eldest, Edward VII, a 20-something old boy who would end up being hated by his mother and blamed for his father's death. He looked nervous, standing beside her and you could see he was just itching to leave her side and avoid any more scrutiny.

The Queen began speaking.

"Thank you everyone for joining us on this pleasent occasion." She looked around. "Tonight, we are going to welcome a member to our family, even though he has always been a part of us. But now, we will make things official."

"Silas FitzGeorge." She called suddenly. You saw Silas step forward in front of the queen, bowing his head curtly before looking at her confidently.

"You're my cousin Georgie's grandson, and I have no doubt when I say that if he were here tonight, he'd be just as proud of the young man you've become as I am. Our families may have had some issues in the past, but I have always accepted you as a part of me. Over the years, you've only proven me right with how capable you've become on your own, without seeking a helping hand in your adversities. You have made us all immensely proud, as well as your predecessors for being the first man in our family to attend Oxford university. Watching you start businesses and expand your empire, I have no doubt that you will only continue to make the royal family and Britian proud. Therefore, I would like to offer my support and make good on my promise that I made to you when you were a child."

She turned around and a servant handed her a document.

"I hereby make Silas FitzGeorge, the Duke of Westminster."

Oh. Ohhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh-

This was Silas's dukedom ceremony. Why is this a huge deal? Because his grandfather, Prince George was once estranged from the royal family and stripped off his royal duties and benefits when he married Sarah Fairbrother, which meant their descendents were all illegitimate and not recognised by the crown.

But tonight, with Silas becoming a duke, its like a welcome back to the family. That too, by the same woman who had in essence- ostracised his family.

And with Dukedom comes other benefits, money, property, influence. Not to mention that Silas has become the duke of Westminster, as in THE WESTMINSTER! One of the wealthiest dukedoms to get, and also where Westminster palace is, the place which is the meeting place for the Parliament of United Kingdom. It'll allows Silas to have a say and play around with politics.

This is a huge gesture by the queen, and if Silas wasnt the most eligible bachelor before, then he definitely is one.

You watched the queen sign the documents first, before giving it to Silas who signed it. Everyone cheered and clapped for the young duke before stopping as Victoria began speaking again.

"Now, I would like to share more good news." She smiled at Silas, who stood beside her now. "I would like to announce the new duke's betrothal to my daughter, Helena."

What?

The guests clapped again as you saw Silas looking ahead, purposely avoiding your gaze. The queen beamed as she looked back at Helena, who was blushing.

So this is why Silas didnt want you to talking to him. He knew he was going to marry Helena, and he didnt want anyone to even doubt that he's associated with you in any way. Is this his way of telling you that the sham marriage between you two has ended?

Victoria encouraged Silas to say a few words.

Silas looked down briefly, a small smile playing on his lips. "Oh, wow. I am grateful that her majesty has awarded me dukedom. I dont have enough words to express how thankful I am to you." He looked up and you saw a mischievous glint in his eyes. "However, I was only informed of this ceremony and not of my betrothal beforehand."

The queen's head snapped in his direction, as did all of the royals, but Silas continued speaking unfazed.

"I wish I had been told about this earlier to avoid this awkward situation uhhh..." he chuckled nervously, but you could see he was anything but nervous. "I am honoured to be even considered for the princess's hand, your majesty, but I'm afraid I am already married." He announced, looking straight at you.

The hall interrupted into gasps and whispers before they parted the way to let Silas make his walk to you.

With a charming smile, a dimple on his left cheek, he approached you, pulling you into his arms as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple.

"Hi, sweetheart." He whispered loud enough for the onlookers to hear. Your eyes widened, your face flushed at the feeling of everyone's eyes and at his word.

"Si-" The words died down your throat as he placed an arm around your back and pulled you close to his side, showing you off.

"This is Y/n, my darling wife."

With Silas's announcement, the hall went silent once again. Your throat went dry at being put in the spotlight, and your eyes flickered from one guest to another, until finally falling on the queen's, who looked... pissed.

Finally, it was Prince Albert who broke the silence and announced dinner had been served. As the guests began walking out of the hall, Silas lead you out of the palace and to the carriage where his grandmother was waiting for you.

"Go home, now. I'll see you soon." Was all Silas said to you before whispering something to his grandmother, who beamed and nodded, patting his cheek.

"Come on, Y/n. Its getting late, now." Sarah said as she lead you into the carriage, taking her seat next to you, completely unaware of the eyes that had been following you since the moment you'd left home.

-

Silas returned inside, seeing his uncles smirking with pride at the game he'd just played but instead of going to them to celebrate his victory, he went to Prince Albert and Queen Victoria who seemed to be arguing in a low tone in the corner while the guests were being seated in the dining hall.

Clearing his throat, he got their attention.

"Your majesties, I am so sorry for not informing you about my union with Y/n. Its just my wife is terribly shy and we wanted to keep this marriage a secret. But I understand how this creates an embarrassing situation for the crown, and I would like to humbly turn down my dukedom-"

"No." The queen cut him off, her eyes void of any emotion. "The dukedom was awarded to you for your achievements, not because you were asked to marry my daughter. Helena is not something to pawn off to just anyone."

Silas offered a sympathetic smile. "Of course, your majesty. I'm sure you'll find a better suitor for the princess." He took his bow before turning around to enter the dining hall while Victoria stared at his back.

"Are you really still going to keep him as the duke of Westminster?" Albert asked his wife.

She was fuming. But only Albert could tell.

"What choice did I have?" Victoria asked, still glaring at the young boy who dared to play her. "If I took the dukedom away after announcing it publicly, it would've been a far more embarrassment for the crown. They would call us "cheap"."

"We cant let him get away with it." Albert whispered. "Its Westminster. We may rule it, but the duke will still be able to influence the government."

"You think I'm not aware he wants to play politics?" Victoria snapped, before softening her tone. "I wont let him get away with it, Albert. He's just a boy. I am a queen. I wont let him or anyone humiliate us."

Silas sat down besides his cousins as his uncles raised their glasses to him. He sipped his drink, a satisfied grin resting on his face. He knew exactly what he did. Even though no one actually told him that the dukedom came with marriage to the princess, because how callous would it be to ask him to marry her when no one would give up the opportunity of becoming the queen's son-in-law, Silas knew he was expected to marry Helena.

But no one said it. No one asked him. Its the English, they never say what they mean outright, choosing to read between the lines and do what is expected of them, because its more artful, more honourable this way.

Not that Silas could care about traditions. Why would he, when he planned on exacting his revenge?

The queen only came to offer her support when he became successful enough on his own. Where was she when his parents died and his sister was left to take care of him? Sure, Victoria attended the funeral and "promised" to take care of him. But she also said she'd only do that if he proved himself. His grandmother and his sister, Daisy were the ones who raised him.

And now, years later when he got into Oxford without using his family name, without saying "I am related to the queen", when he used his skills to create a powerful business empire that has the potential to influence the British industries, she wants him?

Sure, Westminster has its benefits, but Silas doesnt need Westminster. Westminster needs Silas. He could topple over the government and even shut down Britain herself with just his influence alone. Being a duke just has given him a public platform, an acknowledgement and most importantly, backing from the crown.

And you? Marrying you wasnt just because you happened to be around. Oh no. Silas has plans for you, plans to use you and further his revenge. This is just the beginning.

-

Sarah dropped you back at your place after you insisted that you needed to inform your flatmates of your departure. She gave you a disapproving look when she found out you were living with 4 men and was very determined to have you move in with her and Silas at the FitzGeorge estate, but you were able to persuade her to let you stay the night at home one last time.

"There's something I need to tell you guys." You fiddled with your thumbs as they all sat down in front of you.

"I um... I'm married."

"What?" Shepherd asked. "And you still went on a date?"

"I went on a date with my husband-"

"And who is that?"

You took a deep breath.

"Silas FitzGeorge."

Everyone except for Benjamin broke into laughter.

"Yeah, good one. Seriously, who is it?"

You frowned. "Seriously. Its Silas FitzGeorge."

As you began explaining your situation, even showing them the jewellery that you definitely werent wearing before you left, they started to believe you.

"Y/n- you cant- you cant marry Silas. You cant just marry someone you barely know!" Colin argued.

"What? Havent you heard of "love at first sight"?" You ask but he was unamused. Sighing, you shrugged. "Look, its a marriage that will benefit us both mutually. He gets people nagging him to get married off his back and I get to use his money and influence to get dirt on high society! Besides, I can leave him anytime I want."

"Then leave him now, before its too late." Ben said, standing up as he approached you. He took your shoulders and gave them a firm squeeze. "If its money you're worried about, I'll help you. I can provide for you, Y/n. Dont get into bed with these rich bastards, you dont know how selfish they can be. I- I- dont want you to get hurt-"

"I wont, Benny." You grab his arms, assuring him. "Silas and I are working together. If I go down, so will he. He wont hurt me, he cant. Its too risky for him now, you know? He announced our marriage tonight in front of the queen!"

As you began telling him about how you met the queen and all, Colin quietly left the living room to pour himself another drink, something to knock his brain out so he doesnt have to think about you and Silas.

-

Next day, before the sun even rose, you had packed up a few of your things to go live with the FitzGeorges. All the boys were awake at that time, though Colin's eyes were bloodshot from apparently drinking the wrong liqour, so he sat quietly on the sofa, watching you.

Liam and Shepherd took your bags to put it in the carriage waiting outside, while Ben pulled you in for a hug.

"I'm just moving out, Benny! I'll still see you guys." You laugh, patting his back.

Ben kissed the crown of your head before tucking it under his chin, arms tightening around you. "Just know that you will always have a home here, with us. Dont hesitate to reach out for help. And if Silas or anyone every hurts you, I dont care how rich they are, Y/n. I will take care of them. You just- just come back to us, hm?"

You pulled away from him, wiping a lone tear from your eye. "You're the best, Benny." You whisper before going to Colin, who just stared at you with red eyes.

Leaning down, you poked his cheek. "Kinda wish you werent drunk when I said goodbye, but I guess it makes it easier." Colin continued to stare at you. You grabbed his hand, smiling gratefully at him. "Thank you for everything, Colin. You saved me. Truly." You gave his hand a firm squeeze before leaving, missing him mumble something under his breath.

The carriage took you to the FitzGeorge estate and you were a little disappointed to see only Sarah waiting to welcome you. Its not like you wanted Silas to make a grand gesture to welcome his bride, but you were kinda hoping he was going to ease you into his world while explaining the events of the previous night.

Sarah showed you around the house before leading you to Silas bedroom.

"Cadbury has already placed your bags in there." She turned to you. "This will be your space too, so do make changes to the place as you please."

You smiled shyly at her. Honestly, you dont know whether Sarah knows that Silas only married you for personal agenda, but she wasnt surprised when Silas announced you were his wife.

Sarah looked at you and she placed a hand on her chest, touched.

"Oh, I am so glad you're Silas's girl."

Silas's girl?

"When Silas told me he married you, I was only mad that he did it behind my back! But I suppose it is understandable... these FitzGeorge men always liked to make a statement when it came to love." Sarah said, fondly remembering her late husband.

Sarah continued to gush about you enough for you to know that you dont need to kiss her ass. You have her approval.

When she left, you looked around the large bedroom, Victorian and dark academia was the aesthetic. Wooden panels lined the room, the shelves were stocked with thick books, a study table in one corner, an ottoman chest seat in front of the bed. The entire room was illuminated by the large windows that opened into the balcony, overlooking the large gardens and the cold air of London.

Standing at his balcony, you couldnt help but wonder...

Silas definitely has to HAVE a mega douchebag personality if this was where he was raised.

I mean who wouldnt have an ego trip if they woke up to a view like this, a butler named CADBURY who probably brings him his bland tea and tells him about all the proposals he had, and Silas would just wave a hand in dismissal, telling his butler to reject them all on his behalf.

Silas lived like a king. Or at the very least, lived like the 1% of Britain.

Returning back into the room, you looked at the interior before a grin formed on your face.

Time to snoop around, Y/n. You made your way to his desk.

Lets see what secrets you're hiding, husband.

-

Silas walked in on you folding your clothes and placing them in his closet.

"What do you think you're doing?" He huffed, loosening his tie. He was still in his clothes from last night, having just returned home after celebrating with his uncles and cousins.

You turned to him, faking enthusiasm. "Hello to you too."

Silas rolled his eyes, sitting on his bed. "Dont touch my things." He began untying his shoes.

"Why? You worried my poverty would taint them?"

He looked you dead in the eyes.

"Yes."

"Haha." You close the closet and turn to him. "We need to talk."

He looked at you miserably. "Cant it wait-" "No."

"Fine, then. Go on, I'm listening." He leaned against the headboard while you took your place on the foot of the bed.

"Why didn't you tell me last night that we were going to the palace? Or that you were going to announce our marriage?"

Tired eyes looked at you. "I didnt want to risk you getting cold feet."

Okay. Fair enough.

You gave him a nod. "Fine. Still would've liked a heads-up." "I'll keep that in mind for next time. Good night-" He began closing his eyes when you spoke again.

"No. We still need to talk about our situation." You looked at your lap, smoothing your dress before looking at him again, only to find his tired eyes studying you.

"Silas, who knows that our marriage is not... real?"

"It is a real marriage. We signed proper documents and all." He told you. "What you mean to ask is who knows our marriage is like mutually beneficial business deal? The answer is- no one, except for my butler and his wife, who wont say a word. And I want it to stay that way."

You raised a brow. "So... what exactly is the image you're trying to sell to the world? That we're a young couple, madly in love?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

"Silas." Your tone turned serious. "If you want people to believe this fairytale you're creating, then you need to get your stories straight. And involve me in it too!"

He tilted his head at you before sighing. "Fine. Lets say... we met two months ago."

"Where?"

He grinned. "Ballet theatre. Near Oxford university."

"Ballet theatre- are you trying to use your grandparents story?"

He shrugged. "So what if I am? Besides, people will love it."

You glared at him, but he continued on with his story. "So we met at the ballet theatre, you fell madly in love with me the first time you saw me. Your exact words were- "Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father, have I died and went to heaven to witness the utter beauty of an angel-"

"I have seen rodents looking better than you." You cut him off.

"You're ruining my story." He scolded you. "Fine, we can say that after you were mesmerised by my beauty, you stalked me for a few weeks until I finally said yes out of pity-"

"Silas."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll leave the details to you, just remember- we met at the theatre. Thats the most important part of the story."

"Okay, I'll add my version of the events, which you can read in the papers in a day or two." You stood up, walking over to the vanity. "I will be going to work from tomorrow. I'll tell your grandmother I'm going to visit some friends, and you'll drop me off at my old place where I'll change my clothes and then I'll go to the office."

"Very well." He turned his head to look at you. "But after you're done writing about us, continue working on the White Chapel murders."

You hummed, turning around. "Dont worry, I should be able to get access to the letters in a few days. Wait- Silas, didnt you say your friend owned the paper I worked for?" He nodded. "Well, can you ask him if he could let me, I mean- assign Sherlock Holmes to work on the case? You could bribe him with giving an exclusive interview about your marriage for the papers, in return, he has to let me work the murder story."

"Consider it done." Silas said, putting his arm over his eyes.

"Um, Silas?"

"What?" He asked, annoyed.

"Where am I to sleep?" With Sarah in the house, its not like you can occupy another room. It'll raise suspicion.

Silas removed his arm to look at you, before looking at his large bed.

You shake your head. "I am not sleeping in the same bed with you-"

"I wouldnt want that either." He said, grabbing a pillow. Your heart warmed at the gesture. He really was going to leave his bed for you, like the true gentleman-

Thud.

You looked at the pillow he'd thrown on the floor.

"There." He pointed before returning to bed.

"You want me to sleep on the floor?"

With his eyes closed, he replied. "You say that like you expected me to sleep on the floor."

"Well-"

"Its my room, my bed. Why would I sleep on the floor?"

"I dont know, whats the word- chivalry?!" You huffed, grabbing the pillow and walking near the closed balcony window. It was cold but you'd rather sleep with a pretty view than to wake up to Silas feet landing on your face.

Muttering curses under your breath, you soon fell asleep with your back turned to Silas. A few minutes later, he got off the bed and dropped a blanket on your sleeping body.

And they say chivalry is dead. He thought to himself, returning to his bed.

-

The next day, while dropping you off to work, you brought up the previous day's convo.

"I need something." Silas's gaze flickered from the window of the carriage to you. "What do you know about Henry Blackwood?"

Silas' looked bored again. "He's a fellow businessman, invests in people rather than companies, likes to keep his operations in the dark, which means he has secrets. His shop blew up some time ago, allegedly a "technical failure" but... I think someone did it."

"You think so too?" You asked, hopeful. "Do you know who?"

Silas shook his head. "No. His enemies, like his operations are secret. All I know is someone did it to send a message to him, blew up the shop deliberately while he was out."

A message?

"I want to get dirt on him." You watch Silas raise a brow at you. "Just... get me close to him, or to his people. I saw him talking to your uncles, maybe they know something?"

Silas shakes his head again. "My uncles talk to anyone who has money. Henry wouldnt ever invest in them, they couldnt manage a business for the life of them."

"And you? Would Henry invest in you?"

Silas nodded. "He's tried. I wasnt interested." He cut you off before you could even suggest the idea. "And I'm still not interested. But I'll get you close to him."

"Thank you." You settled back in your seat before remembering another request. "Silas?"

"What now?"

"Can I have some money?"

"Here's a pound-" You glared at him, making him sigh. "How much?"

"Mmhm, oh I dont know... just enough to buy a small house-"

"And why do you need a house?"

You looked at him dumbfounded. "Well, when our marriage goes to the sewers, I would like to have a roof over my head."

"And what if I say I dont intend on ending this marriage?" Your blood ran cold at his words.

"What?"

Silas tilted his head at you before chuckling. "Why have you turned pale? If anyone should be horrified at the prospect of staying married in this mismatch, completely unbalanced relationship, it should be me. Struck down, caught out of the lake in his prime, of both beauty and brain-"

"Oh God, please stop talking before blood starts pouring out of my ears."

"So you agree your voice is irritating enough to do that?" Silas remarked smirking.

"Shut up." You flared your nostrils at him. Why does he have to ruin my mood this early in the day?

He chuckled victoriously, looking out the window. "I'll get you the house. You dont need money for it." He looked at you, already knowing you'd be confused. He grinned, pointing to himself. "Duke of Westminster-" he then points at you. "Duchess of Westminster."

Of course. Now that you're married to the duke, you have a whole lot of land in your hands. You really can have a house anywhere you'd like.

The carriage stopped. "Off you go now, wife."

Entering the office, you were first greeted by Will, the man in charge on working on the White Chapel murders.

"Holmes! How did you do it?" He shook you by the shoulder gleefully. "How did you convince the boss to post my story next?!"

I married his friend. "Oh, I just... promised him an article. Once I give him that, we can work together on the murder story."

He nodded, ushering you to finish off your article first before helping him.

Making your way to your desk, you spotted Colin. "Hey, Colin-" But he walked right past you, as if he didnt hear you.

Maybe he didnt. You shrugged, sitting down at your desk as you began writing down the news about you and Silas.

-

"Oh, Mr Holmes has definitely written most accurately about you Y/n!" Sarah said as she read the papers at the breakfast table. "He calls you the "fairest maiden in town" and "beauty with brains"- oh, I couldnt agree more!"

You smiled, sipping your tea sheepishly while Silas rolled his eyes. Its been 3 days since you wrote an article announcing your marriage to the world, and the editor decided to post it on Sunday, when you and most of London had off from work, all tuning in to read "how the most eligible bachelor bagged the fairest maiden in town."

Sarah ate some of the dishes you'd prepared today. "These are absolutely delicious, Y/n! Silas, your wife-" A maid came in to inform her that there's someone at the door to meet her. As Sarah excused herself, you got up from your seat to serve Silas the food you'd made on Sarah's request.

Silas picked up his fork and took a bite, a smile forming on his lips.

"Have I ever told you how good of a cook you are?"

You blushed, looking down. "No-"

"Then why do you keep cooking?" He dropped his fork on the plate, pushing it aside. "Stop using my kitchen." He smirked as he drank his tea, watching rage take over your face.

"Listen you twat-"

Sarah came back rushing in, a worried look on her face. Silas immediately sat up. "What is it, nana?"

"The- there was someone here from the palace." She gulped. "They sent flowers and a letter congratulating you two on the marriage. They... they said they'd like to meet Y/n and- and welcome the new couple officially."

Silas understood Sarah's worry. The palace never writes to them. In fact, the last time they did, it was years ago when his parents had died.

Getting up from his seat, Silas wiped his face with a napkin before dropping it on the table. "Then we'll let them. We shall host the Queen."

"Si-" But he took her by the shoulders, easing Sarah's worry.

"Dont worry. This is our home, nana." We have the advantage.

Silas left to start making arrangements for hosting the queen at the estate, while Sarah ran around the house with the staff to prepare for the event that is a week from now. Seeing as you couldnt be of use there and everyone was too busy to give you any pointers on what to say or act when the queen arrives, you left the estate to explore the town. Or more specifically, return to the blown up vintage store.

Yep, you're still hoping your time machine survived.

When you arrived on Regent street, you saw the same men still guarding the store, so they probably still wouldn't have let you in. But you also saw Henry, who was leaving the store and in his carriage.

Deciding to follow him, you sneaked into the back of someone's carriage and rode it before jumping off it when it got near Henry's carriage. Fortunately, you didnt have to follow him for long as he got off on Piccadilly street soon and strolled into a place called "The Gentlemen's Club" and from the looks of the daunting bouncers standing outside, you knew you couldnt just stroll in like Henry.

You watched the people who seemed to walk into the club, mostly men, all dressed formally and looked like they were a part of the high society. You saw some women too, though most of them dressed scandalously, so you assume they were there to provide entertainment.

As the sun began setting, more and more people started entering the club and just when you were about to leave, you saw Henry walk out of the club, a frown settled on his face. You werent expecting him to leave the club so soon, not when more people had started going in there, to rave or whatever. If Henry was here for pleasure, then he came out too early. If he was here for business, then most of the club goers have just begun entering, which means that whoever he wanted to conduct business with was already in there. Someone who works at the club... maybe even owns it?

As you turned to leave, you felt someone bump into you.

"Watch where you're going!" The blonde haired woman shrieked at you before crossing the street to go to the club.

You huffed. Everyone's got a giant stick up their-

You whipped your head around, feeling someone watching you. And thats when you spot it- a shadowy figure of a man, standing in the window of the club, on the second floor. Henry? No, he left. Then...?

The shadow didnt move, staring at you until it creeped you enough to make you leave.

-

Silas finally sat down after working all day. Cadbury brought him his evening tea.

"How are the preparations coming along?" He asked his butler. Cadbury informed him of the arrangements he's made and the guest list he's written down that needs his approval before he sends out the invitations.

"And the seamstress will come tomorrow to make a gown for Miss Y/n-"

Silas cut him off. "No need. Send the seamstress to me first. I'll let her know what kind of clothes need to be made for the event, then she can take Y/n's measurements."

"As you wish, sir." Cadbury said, but Silas could see something troubling the young butler. They werent that apart in age, and both of them had practically grown together, each reading the other person well.

"What's the matter, Cadbury?" Silas set his teacup down.

Cadbury took a deep breath. "Its just- I dont understand why the palace is suddenly coming to visit you, after what happened at the dukedom ceremony. It was certainly... humiliating for them, so why would they be coming to welcome Miss Y/n into the family?"

Silas grinned. "They're coming to see who I replaced the princess with." He picked up his cup. "They couldnt break me down, so they're going to try their luck with the missus. There's another reason why the queen is coming, but you let me worry about that."

Cadbury looked concerned. "Then we should prepare Miss Y/n to make no mistakes."

"Dont worry, she wont." Silas smiled, making his butler even more confused. "Speaking of, did you observe her when she was cooking in the kitchen today?"

Cadbury nodded. "Yes. And as you'd said, she didnt touch, let alone cook with bacon or wine despite my insistence that its your favourite. She replaced the meats, and didnt use any alcohol at all!"

Silas chuckled, his eyes gleaming with intent. "Perfect. Just as I'd suspected." He looked at Cadbury again. "Are there any leftovers from the food she'd made?"

"Yes. I was about to throw it out-"

"No. Bring them to me. I'll eat them. If Y/n asks, tell her you fed it to the dogs and then they got violently sick." Cadbury was confused as he left to bring him the food. He thought that Silas didnt like your cooking, at least from what he'd heard him say to you.

Oh. Maybe the young duke just doesnt want to acknowledge that he enjoyed your food.

-

A week passed by quickly and the day of the royal dinner came. You were freaking out because Silas had barely spoken two words to you about how to act or what to say, just telling you to act as yourself and he'll take care of the rest.

"What the hell...?" You muttered, watching your reflection in the mirror. Okay, you're not a conservative, but even you knew that this plunging neckline was a little too much skin for this time period, especially in front of the queen!

You were wearing a white satin and lace gown- wedding gown, if you were being honest. All that was missing was a veil, but you guess that would be a little too much on the nose. The dress was beautiful, no doubt, but it was missing a whole lot of cloth around the neckline, the tight corset making your chest puff out slightly more with a snatched waist. Your collar bones looked prominent, but you would credit that to the bland food served in London. Seriously, why do they act like vampires when it comes to adding garlic?

"Your husband had this dress designed specifically for you, madame!" The seamstress told you as she added her finishing touches. "He must love you a lot!" You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you wore the jewellery he'd sent for you.

Yes. Thats why I sleep on the floor while he sleeps in his bed. Hope he suffocates under those plush sheets. My backache is the sign of our true love.

"Oh, who did that to your hair?" You heard a voice behind you and you turned around quickly.

"Benny!" You squealed, watching Ben, Liam, Shepherd and Colin enter your room. "Ah, I'm so glad you all came."

"Of course we did. There's free booze-" Shepherd smacked Liam on the back of his head. "We're here because we're happy for you."

"And because they wanted to see the queen." Colin said, rolling his eyes, making the other two bicker with him.

"How's Silas treating you? Are you happy?" Ben asked in a low tone as he fixes your hair.

Oh Ben. He reminds you so much of Qasim. "Yes, Benny. Silas is very good to me. I couldnt be happier."

Ben had a sad smile on his face as he nodded.

Just a few minutes later, Silas entered your room. "Y/n. Gentlemen." He nodded to them, before pulling you aside. "I need to talk to you."

You looked at him surprised. Silas was concerned. He was nervous about something. You've never seen him break a sweat.

"What is it, Silas?"

"The queen is onto us."

"What?"

Silas looked at you exasperated. "She knows about our sham marriage." He casted a look to the boys, who were pretending like they werent trying to hear what he was whispering to you. Silas pulled you close by your elbow to whisper. "I have a source telling me that the queen knows you... you're not a Christian. That you're a Muslim."

You pull back to look at him wide eyed. "How- how did she- how did you-?"

"I suspected, you confirmed it now. But she knows. And she's coming here tonight to expose us. If she tells everyone tonight, then she'll be able to take away my dukedom and she will make our lives hell!"

Your throat went dry. "What- what do we do?"

"There's a way." Silas grip on your arm tightened. "We get married for real."

You tilted your head in confusion before shaking your head at what he was implying. "Silas, no-"

"We get a Nikkah."

A Nikkah? If... if you get a Nikkah with him, an Islamic wedding ceremony, then you'll be married to him for real. No- no, the only reason you'd agreed to his proposal was because you knew it was a fake marriage, it didnt really affect your conscious because it was a sham! But-

"No. Silas-"

"Y/n, please." Silas pleaded. "Dont make me beg. If the queen finds out, everything I've worked so hard for, it'll be for naught. She'll take it all away. Dont you- dont you want to help catch the lunatic behind those murders? Dont you want to make a difference by writing? If you dont do this, if you dont stand by me, we'll both be done for!"

You looked at him conflicted, your resolve starting to break as he continued to talk. "My sister, my parents, my grandfather... my family... they need me, Y/n. They need me to pull this off, for me to reinstate our honour, for me to remove the stain and stigma from my family's name. Please, I'm asking you to do this for me... for my family." He swallowed thickly, his eyes boring into you with intensity. "You once told me you lost everything. I'm telling you now that I'll lose everything if we dont do this. Will you let me lose everything, Y/n?"

Lose everything? Everything?

You shake your head. "No, Silas. I... I wont let you lose everything."

10 minutes later, there was an imam in your room. Silas had somehow managed to find an imam in London to marry you two off. But you suppose when you're so rich and well connected, you can find anyone.

This is happening. This is really happening.

With Ben, Colin, Liam and Shepherd as your witnesses and Cadbury and his wife as Silas's witnesses, the imam began the Nikkah ceremony.

Am I really getting married?

You watched the imam ask Silas some questions, and you tuned them out except for one.

"Are you a Muslim?"

You looked up. A flicker of hope! Yes! If Silas isnt a Muslim, he cant marry you! The Nikkah wont happen, or at the very least wont be real because he's not Muslim! He cant marry you, this will still be a sham marriage, a paper marriage and your conscious will be clear and you wont feel like throwing up-

"Yes. I converted an hour ago." Silas informed the imam. "I took my shahada, in sound mind and state, of my own will without any pressure or coercion."

No. Oh no-

"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?"

"I do."

"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?" The imam repeated.

"I do."

"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?" He asked again.

"I do." And with that, Silas signed the Nikkah contract. The officiant then turned to you.

"With the agreed mahr, do you take Silas to be your husband?"

"Mahr?" You whisper in a daze. The officiant looks confused. "Do you not know what your mahr is?"

Mahr is a gift to the bride given by the groom. It is a symbol of the groom's promise to care and provide for the bride. You're more surprised that Silas even knew what Mahr is.

"It must've slipped my mind to tell you." Silas looked at Cadbury, who handed him a document. "For your Mahr, I give you Westminster palace." You looked at the document, he really had signed it over to you!

"Silas..." You say in disbelief, your hands trembling a bit. He smiled reassuringly at you. "You wanted a house. Here's one."

House? He gave me a palace!

"Do you take Silas to be your husband?" The imam asked you. You stared at Silas, at his content face. He didnt have to sign over a whole palace to you, much less one which he'd just gotten from the queen!

And he looked perfectly content with his decision. Not a shadow of doubt. He... he trusts you? Trusts that you'll maintain this union? Wont run out on him- wont betray him?

"I do."

Does he believe that this marriage will last?

"I do."

Does he trust you?

"I do."

You signed the papers, your eyes still in a daze as Silas smiles charmingly at you before pulling you close to hug you. You hear everyone clap around you as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

"Thank you."

-

Silas escorted you to the dining room where all the guests were waiting. You were still quiet and in a trance as you walked by him, with your hand around his arm.

He's surprised it didnt make you suspicious with how quickly he'd found an imam. Truthfully speaking, Silas knew you were a Muslim when he first proposed to you. He had his doubts, which were confirmed by his observations especially with your aversion to foods that were forbidden for Muslims. And yes, the queen had also found out about you being a Muslim, but only because he spread the rumour to them.

The Nikkah documents, the ceremony, the Mahr, he had already planned it the moment he found out that the queen was coming over. And the reason why he waited until the last minute to spring this out on you was so that you would be pressured into saying yes. He just couldnt risk you taking time to think this through.

You may still be under the impression that Silas chose you because it was circumstantial or whatever, but he chose you to be his wife precisely because you were a Muslim. Oh he has plans to use you.

You're everything the English monarchy hates, what it stands for. You're not prim and proper, despite your best attempts. You work, that too disguised as a man, and you're far too strong willed and determined to prove yourself unlike the British high society women.

He knows the crown wont be happy to have Muslim bride in the family, much less a Muslim duke who just so happily signed off Westminster palace to his wife.

A Cheshire grin graced his lips, which people mistook for glee for being with his blushing bride. He's going to have fun ruffling the queen's feathers. He's going to tilt the palace upside down.

Curtsying to the queen, Silas immediately noticed and took great pleasure in the queen's displeasure at your dress. Yes, he specifically chose a wedding gown that showed too much skin for the conservative monarch.

"Your majesty, this is Y/n, my sweetheart." Silas introduced you so lovingly, you couldnt help but be flustered as you avert your eyes to the ground.

"Its an honour to meet you, your majesty." You manage to say without throwing up.

Victoria casted one unamused look to you. "Very interesting choice for clothing."

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. She hates it. I knew it-

Silas's hand gently grasped yours. "Thank you, your majesty. I chose it for her after being inspired by a painting my love gifted me. Ah, let me show it to you."

You already knew it was the stupid portrait he was talking about, and you wanted to hide away into a corner as you saw the disapproval on the queen's face- God, she doesnt mask any emotion, does she?

The queen turned to Silas. "I have heard a rumour and I would like you to address it now." She said, glancing at you.

Silas nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "Why dont you go and help nana with the guests? I'll be right with you."

Sarah was introducing to the guests, but your head was preoccupied with Silas and the queen. They are definitely talking about me-

"Y/n, this is Mr Blackwood." You stared at the familiar face. "Oh please, Sarah. No need to be formal with me." He smiled charmingly. "Besides, miss Y/n and I have met before."

"Well, thats wonderful! You two talk- I have to find my troublesome grandsons before they embarrass me!" Sarah left you with Henry.

"Congratulations on your wedding." He said with exaggerated joy, though his eyes expressed anything but that. "I'm sure he offered you a lot of money for putting up a show. I just wish you'd told me about it before."

"Excuse me?" You frowned. "I'm not putting up a show."

He raised a brow. "Really? You expect me to believe that a FitzGeorge wants to marry you? Out of the blue?" He throws a look to your gown. "That this wedding dress wasnt him trying to just convince the world that you're his wife?"

Your jaw ticked. "You're right. This dress is Silas's way telling everyone we're married. Because we were married on paper before, but I have an imam, 4 witnesses and a Nikkah document stating that Silas and I are married, both in the eyes of the law and God." You watched Henry's face fall. What use was it lying when he already heard of the rumours. Rolling your eyes, you turned to leave, only for him to reach out and grab your arm.

"Why are you doing this?" Henry asked you, looking for any signs of you lying. He didnt find any. "You know you dont belong with him-"

"Oh? I dont?" You snapped. "Who do I belong with? No, go on. Tell me."

He pulled you close, looking into your eyes. "Me. You belong to me. You know it, you felt it- we have something. We have-" He lowered his voice. "I can give you everything you want. Whatever you'd lost in my shop, I'll find it again. I'll travel the world for it, just- come to me. Leave Silas."

"That is the most pathetic thing I've heard come out of a man's mouth." You yanked your hand out of his grasp, walking away from him. The next time you saw him, he was busy talking with Victoria's heir- Prince Edward VII.

"Sweetheart, there you are!" Silas grabbed you, pulling you along. "I was just telling her majesty about how we met. You remember, love?" He shot you a knowing look.

You nodded, remembering what you two had practised. "Yes. We met at the ballet theatre near Oxford. It was love at first sight-"

"Ballet theatre?" Victoria's voice was sharp. Your heart dropped as you tried to follow up on your lie. See, this is why you two should've discussed this because its hard to lie on the spot!

"She's an amazing ballerina! Ah! I was immediately charmed by her art! She bewitched me!" Silas said cheekily and you wanted to smack him for saying "bewitched" because this is still Victorian era and sure, they dont have witch trials anymore, but why would he risk even the accusation when it is literally the queen's ancestors who had a major part in burning up "witches" in the 1600s!

Look, people back then were dumb and evil, which is a really bad combination.

"Is she now?" Victoria looked at you now, with those piercing eyes. "I would love to attend a show of yours. See what these FitzGeorges fancy so much."

Oh she knows. You can see it, hear it in her monotonous voice that she knows Silas is lying.

And yet this dumbass continues to lie. "Of course! We'll host you for... Christmas eve?"

As Victoria left, you glared at Silas. "Why would you say that?! I'm not a ballerina and you invited her to watch me dance? Do you want to get caught?!"

Silas tutted at you. "You worry too much. Its not that hard, you know. Besides, you have my grandmother to teach you. Ah yes, nana will love it-"

"Silas!" You stopped him. "I cant learn ballet in a month!"

"Not with that attitude-"

"We will get caught. You will be caught, and I will be embarrassed and- and- I wont let anyone make a fool out of me, Silas!" He pulled you into his chest, shushing you.

"I wont let anyone make a fool out of you either, Y/n." He pulled your head back to look at you with those deceptively charming eyes. "You carry my name next to yours now. You're my wife now, and by association, your dignity is my dignity now. I wont let anyone make a mockery of us, Y/n."

You looked up at him and you believed him. How could you not, when lying comes so easily to Silas?

He watched Sarah console you, promising to help you learn. Silas his his smile as he picked up his glass, enjoying his plan falling into place.

Ah, it would be a pity to see your heart break when the entire theatre laughs at you.

Thoughts????

[livin4woso]

Breaking the media

Chapter 3- arrival

You had just arrived in spain when the news that you were leaving arsenal was spread the club hadn't said where you were moving to due to some timing issues and you hadn't done any Barcelona media yet. You looked through the comments as the fans speculated your next club and many wishing you well and hoping you would have stayed longer at the club. While all the messages were nice you knew it was the right call to move so as you stood in airport looking for what will be your ride to the training centre you see a sign with your name on it. After some great force of lugging your two suitcases along the airport by yourself you reached the drivers with a half smile "good morning miss y/l/n" he said reaching his hand out "morning nice to meet you" you said taking his hand a firmly shaking it. Just as you were about to grab your suitcases and begin dragging them back along to the car he took them out of your hands "let me take these from you" he said "oh its no bother really i can bring them myself" you protested but he was insistent.

The car journey wasn't as long as you had expected it to be as you sat scrolling through your phone almost laughing at the ridiculous rumors you could see through your phone even sky sports had started to make rumors. You had arrived at the training ground where a member off staff had met you and brought you to the hair and makeup chair "hola, buen dia miss y/l/n" said the women smiling at you "call me y/n please its more.. normal" you responded as she began her work adding a light coat of foundation and redoing your hair entirely. After 10 minutes you were ready and handed a Barcelona training kit and told this is what you would be taking your photos in I mean it made sense but you would have preferred to be in normal clothes.

You were whisked through the unfamiliar corridors passing room after room each one looking completely different from the other till you reached the media room which was set up with cameras lighting and the contract. Jona was waiting in a chair when you arrived and he immediately stood up "hola y/n so happy you decided to join us you are going to do wonderful things" he said kindly to you. As the next couple hours went by you spent most time taking photos and doing interviews when you were told it was tomorrow when you would meet the team and have a tour of the facility before joining training.

Once you were done you were brought to an apartment that had been furnished and paid from Barcelona as you clearly weren't old enough to pay for it yourself. It was nice,small yes, but it wasn't cramped. You had put away all your clothes when you saw that it had been officially posted you were now a culer and all the media from that day had been posted and as you expected it.You had done it 'y/n y/l/n has transferred to Barcelona for an undisclosed fee' was printed all over social media for a moment it felt like everyone in the world was talking about you.

You woke up the next morning and the apartment was conveniently a 10 minute walk to the training ground because you couldn't drive so walking was the next best thing. The spanish sun was hot on your skin you hadn't been out of england for a long time minus for England camps which weren't very frequent or very long. You had arrived at the training ground 5 minutes early but that didn't matter. You were again greeted by jona the two of you making small talk as you walked towards the pitch, now the anxiety had kicked in you were 16 and going to meet your idols all at once, what if you nade a fool of yourself in front of the team or they dont like you and just to top of the list you knew not one word of Spanish minus hola. The training ground was nice it was decked out with perfectly cut grass and box nets you looked over to see the team training away not even noticing your presence as they were so focused in a drill that until jona called them over they were in there own world. "CHICAS, YOUR NEW TEAMMATE HAS ARRIVED" he shouted across the pitch when each of the girls looked over to you and began to walk towards you, each meter they passed you could feel your heartbeat move quicker. Now you were young but you weren't challenged size wise at 16 you were 5,8 making you quite the impressive feat and one that was taller than quite a few girls on the team. From a mile away anyone could tell you were a defender tall, broad shoulders, hair tied neatly in two plaits, it was obvious.

It was the captain alexia who had been selected to talk to you first " hola, ive heard good things about you y/n" she said kindly almost in a parental tone, a tone which some sould have found to be insulting yet it brought you a sense of comfort. Each of the girls took there time chatting to you, some getting more confused by your accent and led you to having to say things much slower so the others can understand what you were saying. When last it came to kiera and lucy the fellow English on the team "well well if isn't y/n" lucy said almost grimacing "what lucy, you're not happy to see me" you said back "of course" she said wrapping her arm around you as keira did the same you had known the English girls had been told you were coming by leah but you didnt know that they had been told to keep your eyes on you but so was mapi and alexia however from jona. It was lucy who had taken you on the tour around the place "nice innit, and the weathers lush as" she said "yeah definitely, its a change from arsenal but god is it like a different world from sunderland" you said although you had lived in North london for 3 years your north east accent hadn't changed at all you were still a northern girl at heart and one that surprisingly faired well under the sun.

"Well then i bet we better head off back home" lucy said taking you back to the exit "yeah definitely especially before it gets too dark" you said as you began to walk off to your apartment "where are you going? Aren't your foster parents picking you up" she questioned as from what she has assumed you were living with a family "ermm home im walking back to my apartment its only 10 minutes" you said as you began to speed up a little away from lucy. "An apartment you're 16 you can't live alone" lucy remarked but by then you were gone you, she threw her hands in the air and sighed as she knew she needed to have a talk with barca management because you couldn't live alone but you had ran home to make sure lucy couldn't see where you went as you didn't want to make a scene or deal with lucy scolding you.

As you opened your front door you locked it back up and crashed into bed the jet lag from the plane had crashed into you but you knew you needed to shower and make dinner but you had no food what so ever, how you wished someone could make you some home cooked food. So like a sensible person you ordered in food and showered while waiting and just as you had changed into your pjs the food had arrived. It was just a simple pizza but god was it tasty. You ate every last crumb and put the box on your counter to put it in the recycling you climbed into your bed and let tiredness slip over you.

[thebluemallet]

EARLY Predictions for Bridgerton Season 4

BENEDICT IS OFFICIALLY CONFIRMED TO BE THE LEAD FOR SEASON 4!

I've had this in my drafts for a couple of weeks. But now that Benophie is officially happening next season, I have some EARLY predictions for the next season. I'll have more predictions when we finally have a clip or a trailer, but for now I'm gonna cast a wide net for what I think will happen in season 4.

1- MASQUERADE!

They really name-dropped that masquerade ball like Tahani Al-Jamil name drops her celebrity friends. And they mentioned it in the promo with Luke T. The masquerade ball is happening! My guess is it'll happen somewhere in the first two episodes of season 4. This will be where Benedict meets his Cinderella/mysterious Lady In Silver/Sophie Beckett.

The code name for season 4 is supposed to be Vauxhall, where we saw Daphne and Simon launch their fake dating plot in season 1. That was a public ball, which means that anybody who could pay the fee could get into it. Perhaps we'll return there for the masquerade ball. Makes much more sense for Sophie to be able to crash that instead of a private ball at the Bridgerton house.

Let's just hope her carriage doesn't turn into a pumpkin before she can make her escape.

2- A Possible Time Jump

In Benedict's book, he meets Sophie at the masquerade, she runs away at midnight, and then he doesn't see her again for another two years. I think a time jump could happen again. Specifically for a few of my upcoming predictions.

Also, it would add to the drama.

Can you imagine the reaction from the fans with the screen fades to black and then some text fades in that reads TWO YEARS LATER?

3- Kate and Anthony Might Not Make An Appearance Next Season

Possibly an unpopular opinion, but I almost dont know why they bothered with having Kate and Anthony in season 3. It seemed like it boiled down to "We're here! We're hot! We're horny! And we're fucking off now! Bye!"

At least when Daphne showed up in Anthony's season she helped drive the plot forward and tried to help guide her brother on the bumpy road to matrimony. Anthony had one half-assed conversation with Colin about his engagement to Penelope. Kate did most of the heavy-lifting when it came to important talks with the family. She did most of the talking to Colin the night before his wedding to Penelope. (Not that it mattered because all of her work was undone the moment Charlotte showed up to the wedding.)

Kate also gets credit for speaking with Eloise to try and smooth things over between her and Colin. And then they left their family for a third time to go all the way to India, a journey that's going to take them six months one way.

But with a time jump, that would give enough time for Anthony and Kate to go to India, have their baby, spend some time there, and then make the long journey back to be present after the time jump with a toddler.

(With how pregnant Kate was looking at the wedding, I would not be surprised if she gave birth at sea. She and Anthony did not think that plan through at all. And why the hell did they leave without attending Francesca's wedding??? And when the Queen was certain that a Bridgerton was behind Lady Whistledown???)

Anthony and Kate being absent would also be a convenient way to keep the Bridgerton House set around for a little while longer.

Anyway, sending Kate and Anthony off to India felt like a way to let Jonny and Simone do other projects for a season instead. Jonny himself is probably gonna be busy with all of the press for the upcoming Wicked movie. So if the announcement comes that they won't be around, I wouldn't be surprised.

4- Last Season for Queen Charlotte Queen Charlotte Lives Forever!

Bridgerton is not known for being 100% historically accurate. And let's face it, even if it were, people would still be complaining about the historical inconsistencies. But one thing Bridgerton is creeping up on is the year 1818. And it's in November of that year that the real-life Queen Charlotte passed away.

Season 4 will, I assume, start in 1816. If they do a one-year time jump, we'll get the rest of the season in 1817 when the main events of Benedict's book take place. If they do a two-year time jump, like they did in the books, then we'll be in 1818 and we'll be in the year we say goodbye to Queen Charlotte.

BUT, the showrunners have pretty much said that they've decided the show exists in an "alternate universe" and they're just going to keep Queen Charlotte around for a while.

The Queen lives. Long live the Queen.

5- Eloise Meets Sir Phillip Crane (?)

While the masquerade references were heavy-handed, the references to Philoise were more subtle. In episode 3x02, Eloise wears a dress that is patterned with the same flower that was gifted to her by Sir Phillip in the books. And in 3x05, when trying to make herself feel better about her betrothal, Cressida tells Eloise that the two of them can "flirt with widowers." The showrunners are slowly setting up the Eloise/Phillip dynamic--they have been since season 1. I think they'll set more things into motion in season 4 and set them up for season 5.

Eloise already expressed to Kate how she felt as if everyone was pairing off and leaving her behind. Benedict's marriage will end up being the tipping point for Eloise.

Phillip would have lived the life of a botanist/academic if it weren't for his brother's tragic passing. Perhaps his academic connections could play a part in Eloise's desire to meet new people and change the world?

If they meet in season 4, it could be the catalyst for them to begin to exchange letters like they did in the books. Which will ultimately set them up for their story in season 5.

Of course, this also means that Marina is going to have to die offscreen at some point 😐

6- Cressida Redemption (?)

One of my major gripes with season 3 was that they gave so much time to the threesome subplot that two other subplots seemed to have no real conclusion or were dropped completely. One of the subplots that didn't get wrapped up as nicely as it could have was Cressida's. We didn't see her reaction to Penelope unmasking herself as Lady Whistledown. She just kind of...left.

There is a long-standing fan theory that Cressida will have a part to play in the Benedict/Sophie story based on a piece of script that named Cressida's mother "Araminta". If this is true, then I think we'll see Cressida in some way next season. And maybe she'll get a happier ending. I never thought at the beginning of the show that I'd want Cressida to end up happy somewhere, but boy season 3 did a great job of making me actually sympathetic to her character.

7- Another Offscreen Wedding

One thing that I know frustrated Kathony fans last season was not seeing an onscreen wedding for Kate and Anthony. I mean, we saw a wedding, and Kate and Anthony were there, but he almost got married to the wrong person. The closest we got was Anthony disassociating so hard that he astral projected himself into an alternate reality.

The only onscreen weddings to canonical spouses we've seen have been the Daphne/Simon, Colin/Penelope, and Francesca/John weddings. But if anybody was hoping to see an onscreen wedding with Benedict in season 4, think again.

I believe that the drama of Benedict and Sophie's story will keep up through all eight episodes of their season. And, like Kate and Anthony's season, we'll flash forward in time at the end of the episode to Benedict and Sophie several months into their marriage. But we won't get to see the actual wedding.

8- Crossdressing Sophie (?)

Admittedly, this is less of a prediction and more wishful thinking on my part. This is the route I would go down if I was writing for the show, anyway.

Show!Benedict now being canonically pansexual has opened up the possibility for him to have an LGBTQ+ partner. But I have a slightly different idea. One plot point of Benedict's book is that Sophie, after running away from her stepmother's house, cuts off all of her hair to sell when she's desperate for money.

I think Show!Sophie could still get her hair cut off like in the book, and then go around disguised as a man for safety/freedom of movement/job opportunities. Then Benedict gets confused when he discovers Sophie in "boy mode" because he hasn't felt this level of attraction to someone since his Lady In Silver.

Maybe we'll get a Victor/Victoria scenario out of it (woman pretending to be a man pretending to be a woman).

Like I said, this is less of a prediction and more of the route I would go down if I was writing for the show. It probably won't happen this way. But maybe I'll give fanfic writers some plot bunnies.

[murder-cookie-dust393]

I saw the yandere hcs for lord Oyster and I saw the ending of them comforting and thought it was kinda cute so I'll bite for hcs! I got an idea for a type of reader I don't see often but I find the trope interesting. May I ask for hcs of a yandere clotted cream x poor reader?

Bonus little addition to reader if you want: maybe, to make it by, reader works really hard...day and night...and often neglects themselves, like they skips meals, barely sleeps due to a mixture of work and stress, work themselves to the bone just to make sure they have a roof over their head and food on the table?

Just always curious how yanderes react to a love like that lol! Sorry if this sounds weird! Just stumbled upon the idea of poor reader and thought it was interesting!

YOU DONT UNDERSTAND- I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO THOUGHT THE POOR MC TROUPE WAS INTERESTING.

[disclaimer: I’ve never had such a situation so I’m just going off of other people’s experiences]

Tw: spying through documents..?, Hierarchy misuse(?), Clotted gaslights ppl

• Let’s say MC is like a cook or something for idk any form of public gatherings. They work their arms off trying to quickly get lots of food cooked- that tastes good enough.

• Even if more they have lots of co-workers, they still have to do so much to have enough for so many people. Hell, they’re still cooking to keep making enough while the gatherings go on.

• Clotted Cream found a little defect in his food, maybe a dessert that was a bit undercooked. So he quickly sneaks into the kitchen to tell one of the chefs, just so they could fix the food before anyone makes a commotion. After all, he is a very kind-hearted, empathetic consul isn’t he…?

• He ends up talking to MC, showing the small defect. To his surprise, MC is panicking like crazy, afraid of losing their job. They quickly go out to the foods and take the tray of the desserts with a defection and shove it in the oven. They’re thanking him greatly, bowing a few times.

• Clotted Cream notices their hands look a little wrecked, with a few bandages over their fingers. “…Say, are your hands alright? They look to be in a quite- rough state.”

• MC is surprised at the question, answering that they have to work a lot to get the food out in time.

• Clotted Cream ends up talking to them longer than needed, and he’s- interested to say the least. He wonders what they’re life is like, given he was adopted into a noble household.

• Clotted Cream ends up scouring through official files to scour more information about them…He ends up seeing all the bills MC is paying, it could be literally anything: debt, medical, whatever. He feels an odd sense of pity? Or is it…something more humane?

• He ends up throwing himself into a hole of complete curiosity- and soon obsession. He wants to know more about their life, how they survive their endless hours of work. He works endless as well- but not in the way they do.

• At every public gathering, [where they’re serving food] he’s talking to them more than he is to the guests, always asking questions about their life and how they’re doing.

• At some point, he can’t take it anymore, seeing them suffer to keep their surviving. So one day, MC finds that all the bills they had to pay are just gone. Paid for. It confused them.

• The next day, MC goes over to the bill issuer, questioning things. Which the bill issuer responds, “Oh, a cookie came in and said he was your fiancé so he paid them all for you.”

• MC, absolutely flabbergasted, tries to question the bill issuer, wondering who the cookie was. But the bill issuer didn’t know. Only noticing he had green eyes. He’s in a disguise.

• MC goes back home, confused af. For one thing, they don’t even have a fiancé, and two, they don’t even know who this dude is.

• Meanwhile, Clotted Cream is laying in his bed, giggling like some girl that has a stupid school crush. He couldn’t believe he managed to get away with it! Not that it would matter, he could easily trick people into thinking the two of you were engaged.

• A few days later, when MC comes home from a long day at work, they notice literally ALL of their stuff is packed up. And guess who comes out from the closet with clothes in his hands? That’s right, sir fucking Clotted Cream.

• Before MC can even question him, he pressing a kiss to their cheek and smiling. “I’m just getting everything ready for you to move in with me! Don’t worry darling, this is the last of everything.”

• MC can try everything to question and defy him, but he’s just pulling the “I’m sir Consul, I can ruin your life. Now love me.”

• Poor MC, going from poor to confused and weirded out.

• If MC is compliant, he’s a needy mf, who’s super affectionate behind closed doors. Constantly giving them hugs and compliments.

[Ok- ngl this was self-indulgent. I would say this is my longest post on here lmao]

- Celina

[1eos]

hi miss kendra, i need some advice if you don't mind. your new job journey has inspired me to quit the fuckass job i'm sick of but the audhd hates to think of change, and i don't know if i should just go for a masters instead to jump up a level in the job market. or, would you suggest joining the girls in stem with a python course? i hate to see my degree (business) go to waste and have been avoiding smth in software bc of that but if the jobs are good i might have to bc i can NOT stay here any longer w no progression money wise.

i dont mind at all <3 the main reason why i will never leave tumblr is that if you curate it right this can really become a support group for audhd adults and we all help each other survive this sick ass world. bc wow that audhd response to change is sooooo hard to deal with in the workplace which sucks bc in this current climate changing jobs frequently kinda is the wave rn

but anyways advice. obvs i can't know exactly what's best for you but i will throw some questions that helped me figure out where to narrow my focus!

1st. to answer the question is i would suggest joining the girls in stem. absolutely! but don't limit your focus to a python course. the main reason i didnt get into stem earlier was that i didn't realize there were sooooo many different niches of stem and thought that just bc i didnt necessarily want to do 0s and 1s exclusively it wasn't for me but now taking different classes im seeing its a lot of different things i could excel in. like i went in doing web design and realized while i don't enjoy that the way i expected it introduced me to networking, cybersecurity, and data science which i AM interested in. so if you're interested but java gives you the ick (valid) def start poking around free resources first before committing. i investigated some reddit threads and found online it training things that i did and ofc there are a bunch of books too

currently ive subscribed to tryhackme. of all of the hands on training courses its one of the cheapest at $14 a month and its walking me through all the different areas of networking and cybersecurity and its been helpful in getting my feet wet so i can pinpoint what fields im genuinely interested in. currently, im focused on trying to find a field where im truly 100% interested in digging in bc for me ive found caring abt my field gives me excitement that takes the edge off of the ego death change puts me through 😭😭😭😭

i say all that first bc a masters will be a GREAT boon to level up your income esp if you want to work for any kind of university which i would recommend as a good starting place bc the benefits tend to be really good and colleges are relatively more chill workplaces. however, depending on which field you go in just know that a lot of jobs will take the official certifications and your bachelors. and certifications are way cheaper than masters degrees so keep that in mind. especially if you get a certification, get employed in the stem field and then you may have the chance of your employer helping pay for your masters

ofc if you can afford to get your masters now you could go the other direction and start school now and use your school's connections to get student work/part time work in your field and then your odds of being hired in a permanent position after graduating goes up by 300000000000%

and i would suggest sitting down and making a list of everything you hate about your current job and what, ideally, you want for not your dream job but like...the job that could bring you the most content you know? if you're not living to work, picture what you want to do and how your job can help facilitate that without getting in the way.

so like for me my goal is to be able to do the art i want to do without having to worry about starving to death and have as much time to focus on art. bc that's my goal i realized i wanted a job that:

in a stable field where i could potentially get a job anywhere

pays well and consistently

remote work possible

flexible schedule so that i could work less than 5 days a week

clear upward trajectory

not centered around customer service 😭

relatively low stress and doesnt need crazy hours

so with this listed out i realized i didn't actually want my main job to be in the art field bc of the inconsistency and that stem could work for me and then from there anytime i find a new job that i think i could do i investigate it and check to see if the field is shrinking, education requirements, etc etc.

this is a lot but i hope at least one of these thoughts helps you! 💖

[sunset-of-the-void]

okay ive been trying to organize my thoughts forever and its not exactly working so. i'm just gonna launch things in as short and concise as i can make it so i dont ramble incoherantly forever (/lh)

so,, i'll start with my perception of norton, because by god i think i should think about him more,,,

i'm not gonna touch on his mom because i have no clue what the fuck happened to her honestly, but i think norton's dad has always been kind of. accidentally distant? like in a way you could tell he cared for his son, but there was probably always an air of stress/tiredness about him (similar to norton as he aged) that got worse from the black lung and aging, and also the way that they were never guarenteed to have necessities all the time was something that occupied his mind a lot. (i imagine personally that while the two were never close, norton could understand the reasons why hence choosing to stay by his side once he fell bedridden)

also, while norton probably didn't work in the mines for his entire life, he'd probably do small jobs on the side to help out with funds, especially considering his lack of an (official? authentic?? i cant recall the word im looking for) education in canon, so you know. he's been aware of the concept of money and status for a while i'd assume, even moreso when he starts working in the mines as a teenager (which i'd assume is when his father's illness starts worsening as well) and people there are just. ruthless i'd imagine. considering in his trailer he looks (debatably?) younger than the other men it's probably from both a mix of him being a newer worker and possibly being worse off than them as well plus the stress on him having to be the only provider for two people, one of which is ill as well, as a teenager proobably doesnt help much with the situation either...... i've not much to add other than this, though touching on his personality in the manor, despite being reserved and a liittle grumpy he is very sweet once you get past the walls he put up! he's the type of person to help someone who needs it (albeit he may make a show of being reluctant about it) but he does know what its like to struggle and how much a helping hand could mean to someone. he's still very empathetic in my mind :]

very very briefly onto andrew because if i dont limit myself this will be soo much longer. but i'll try not to get too excited and i'll cut out most of his life (pretty much all of it up to about laz cemetary)

so basically andrew also had similar situations being born in poverty, while norton managed to gain financial security as he became a prospector (i think?) andrew didnt really. get that at all. even when working with laz (if he did, there wouldnt be a reason to be tempted by grave robbing, right???) and i personally assume people would price gouge him for the sake of him being "impure" or whatever, so even with the pay from mikhail/percy it never really lasted quite long enough,,,,

andrew only left after getting caught by marshall, and fled immediately after the (accidental) murder. (to summarize it shortly andrew panicked and stabbed him a few times with the shovel and then accidentally buried him while he was still alive in a nearby patch of dirt) and he showed up to the manor with. practically nothing. he had a change of clothes, his shovel, and some trinkets that were dear to him, and to me he kind of traveled on foot the nearly whole time to the manor (using the funds he had left from the final deal of the "slabs" to take a train as far as he could with the money)

so now like.. the actual current important thing (sorry dhsjdjfj......)

once andrew shows up to the manor he's in ah. generally pretty bad shape. and people kind of have one of two reactions of either "wow this guys one of the stranger ones" or "this guy needs. a lot of help" (depending on how you look at it) and norton kind of realizes almost immediately from andrew's general anxious demeanour and gaunt figure that he has nothing going for him, so why would he make that worse?? plus in the manor norton kind of gravitates away from nobility/aristocracy i believe and andrew is very. noticably not either of those, andrew is just grateful that norton's not reacting negatively to his very presence and he puts a lot of trust in norton. (like, norton gets a fuck ton of life stories that luca and emil dont hear about) im working on a fic of their first technical interaction and im not sure if i'll ever finish it since ive been stewing it since like.. april but they're cute to me

Hello! Very excited to read through this

To be honest i dont think norton's mom is mentioned like ever. At least in nothing i personally have read. I do agree that hia family would have been distant. They were in living in poverty and it puts a strain on anyone much less a family. To me it aids in norton's cutthroat nature of just having a life of anything but the suffering of poverty.

I would love to read the fic once you finish it! I really like andrew and norton getting each other as they have both been ostracized from society for being poor and then for Andrew being albino! I was going to have a lot more to say but i dont think it would have added much to this. I will be marinating on thoughts for this thank you so much for the ramble friend!

[aliensunflower-fics]

'bad heart and knees' not to pry but are you disabled? is that why you have a donations thing on your blog? I know this might be personal so you dont need to answer im just curious ヽ（≧□≦）ノ

I'm not officially disabled. No doctor has ever told me as much but that's mostly because when I've gone to the doctor they focus only on my weight and ignore my concerns. I'm hoping to change that soon. The donation thing is actually something else. Anyway uhhh warning bit of a rant about my health read if you want??? I guess??? Also explanation about donation thing.

I damaged both my knees a lot growing up due to several accidents and incidents and even have some faded scars on them they have good days and bad the weather can effect them a lot somedays I wake up and they just ache due to the rain. So stairs and me don't get along much.

As for my heart I don't know WHAT is up with it exactly, its been kinda weird ever since I was a skinny child to now. And by weird I mean it HURTS when I'm suddenly forced to run or climb up lots of stairs (a single flight or two is fine but climbing up 7 like I have to do to get up to my apartment really takes it out of me). For years I just thought I was unhealthy but then I found out that its not suppose to like hurt when you run, wind you? yes. beat faster? yes. not pound so much it hurts. I also found out my heart does not appreciate planes much my first flight overseas I was struggling to breathe my heart was fluttering and I was light headed the whole time. A few people in the medical field have told me it might be a blood pressure thing? Or a weak heart. I hope to figure it out eventually when I find a doctor who will listen to me.

As for the donation thing, well its there due to my mental health actually. I got really badly depressed and stopped writing for years due to the fact I felt like my hobbies were 'useless' therefor not good enough to do or share. Eventually I was suggested adding a donation button not to make money per-say (though I will be honest it does help pay for things I'm not exactly rich) but in order to help my brain acknowledge there is value in hobbies and in creating. I don't need to write a book for writing to still have value and by having a donation button I force my own brain to acknowledge that I see this as a worthwhile thing to do. Honestly I didn't think it would work but surprisingly it did slowly being forced to add that donation link made me recognize that I see what I do as having worth even if no one ever donates and I make zero money its WORTH doing to me, and thats all it needs to be.

So uhh yeah that was longer then I thought. I don't mind telling yall more about me but its also odd your so curious about me im so boring.

[ancientpillarsoflori]

DISARSTAR - NICHTMAL DAS MINDESTE (NOT EVEN THE LEAST)

on hostile architecture and the housing crisis in hamburg, germany.

(german with subtitles, english translation below)

What's up? My name is Disarstar.

In Germany, on of the richest countries in the world, around 50.000 people live on the street according to official statistics. The number of under-reported cases should be significantly larger, because people who are cooped up in emergency accommodation under inhumane conditions are skillfully subtracted from those numbers.

The number of unhoused people who are not living on the street is many times higher than that. Up to 1.600 crimes against unhoused people are documented per year, many more are not being recorded.

Last winter, at least 23 unhoused people froze to death on the streets of the republic. Stress is on 'at least' and the people dying from heat, who dont make it through the hot summers, don't make it into the statistics.

((phonecall) Ok, no, were coming, and then? Then we're really doing this. See you.)

"No one has to be homeless in Germany," the enlightened neoliberals like to say, drinking sparkling wine with their breakfast. However, the life crisis of homlessness can strike almost anyone. There is no right to accommodation in Germany, and those who can't pay their rent end up on the street.

Without an apartment, you hardly find work, and without work, hardly an apartment. And as everyone who ever had to search [for an apartment] knows: Even under the right conditions it is hard to find one. Despite there being vacant apartments for speculation on every corner.

(sawing)

Living on the street means falling through the cracks, being in a downward spiral of stress, which takes over the day and all capacities, and from which, if at all, it is very difficult to find a way out.

Living on the street, you are much more likely to become a victim of violence, a victim of exclusion and expulsion, a victim of harassment by the police. For those affected, the state only acts as a barrier.

I have been living in Sankt Pauli [a neighborhood of Hamburg] for over ten years, and in this time alone, I have witnessed the massive development / beautification of the city center for investors and tourists, that leaves less and less space for the homeless.

This is why 'resourceful' democrats come up with things like one-way rubbish bins, to make people collecting redeemable/returnable bottles disappear from the cityscape. They run loud, annoying music at train stations, so no one will stay there longer than necessary. And they attach brackets and other tools of harrassment to benches and lying surfaces, so that no one can get comfortable there.

Unhoused people who - according to neoliberal ideology - are solely to blame for their own situtation, disturb the urban idyll.

Of course, all of this is deeply inhumane / misanthropic. And of course this is not about solving a problem in a solution-oriented way. It is solely about repression and expulsion. Out of sight, out of mind.

Unhoused people aren't even granted the dirt under their fingernails. And this action isn't even the least.

(donation information for cafeemitherz.de)

[geneticcatalyst]

Why No One Got Nailed In The First Timeline: (a Qi Ye post)

I was rereading some of @hunxi-after-hours incredible meta and got stuck on the part of this post ^ where it's mentioned that Priest stated in the first life wkx and zzs never met.

Which is making me lose it because that's what I had just assumed from the beginning- right up until the whole rest of the fandom was talking about how sad it would be that in the first life theyd have still fallen in love but zzs would have just died of the nails. That seems to be common fanon interpretation which is of course great if you like angst, and when I saw that I was just like oh ok that tracks I guess: in first life not only does zzs not have jby to show up and meddle in his affairs due to his execution, he also doesnt even have a relationship/debt with wu xi because in first life wu xi is never in the capital at all. So yeah, in first life a zzs who set out to die of the nails would not be able to be saved.

But the thing is in my initial read, I actually thought that in the first life zzs probably never left the city at all. I actually assumed that in first life, zzs and jby both stayed caught in the emperor's orbit and the morass of politics until it killed them. I figure it was only that in the seventh life, zzs saw jby get out, make it to freedom, and even though they can't have been in much if any contact, knowing that at least beiyuan made it out was enough for zzs until it wasn't, until he realized that he needed to do the same. I think seeing that it was possible, even at the cost of abandoning everything you knew, inspired him to find his own way out.

So I'm super validated actually that even though I love how much priest does leave to our imaginations there might be official word on this that actually supports the interpretation I thought I was crazy for having. Additionally, the post I'm referencing also talks about ljx as a catalyst, which we'd be remiss to forget. The altered events in the first life dont bring ljx to the capital with jby if at all, and without the crushing wakeup call of ljx paired with jby's narrow escape I think zzs could and did keep lying to himself for longer (it's a talent of his). I think jiuxiao stays out of it and jby dies and that actually cements zzs' belief that that's what they signed up for, to die in the service of the empire they built. I think he's equally moderately suicidal, just unable or unwilling to betray hly by leaving.

Remember, in first life jby's execution happens when he's I think either 30 or 32ish. According to my other timeline finagling post zzs is a couple of years older. Think about that- in seventh life jby skips town probably around 22 or 23, and zzs does the same four years later. They spent the better part of another decade at hly's side in the first life. No wonder zzs offers jby his life and jby is like, um, pass. That must have been demoralizing as hell for both of them but at least they had each other, until, well, you know.

After jby's death I do think zzs hits the same burnt out disillusioned stage of the seventh life and I do think he dies about it eventually, but I always figured it was more like working himself to death or taking on more and more wildly dangerous tasks until something finally worked. I don't think it was nails because the whole point of the nails is the brief freedom they afford, and the slightly longer freedom zzs knows the secret to. Seventh life zzs doesn't want to die so much as he wants to actually live a life, death is just the price hes willing to pay. I'm not even sure, again, that first life zzs ever really considered living his own life an option, and by then may have been too damaged to really want to.

Also- I'm veering into personal headcanon here but- are we so sure that the nails even exist in first life? Because remember one of the first key differences between first and seventh life zzs. Seventh life zzs, it is said, invented the nails himself. Seventh life zzs definitively had one thing he didnt in the first life: a business partner who was so extremely knowledgeable about physiology and medicine that he later removes those nails and gives zzs his life back. Do I think wu xi is where zzs got the basic knowledge for the nails? Why not, wu xi is already the lynchpin of so much of the plot. Best boy.

Which does of course leave room for interesting speculation about what a wkx who never meets zzs does in first life, but as much as I am Love WKX I've done what I came here to do, which is think about jby/zzs being best friends in many sad and evil and sweet ways, and appreciate wu xi (best boy), so that's it that's the post.

[reidyoulikeabook]

Right Where You Left Me

Ship: BAU! Gender Neutral! reader x Spencer Reid

#Request - Could you do some angst with “you dont deserve my forgiveness?” Any ship!

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mention of death, violence, injury (not serious), angst, mourning, a lot of tears. Also, swearing, anger, fighting (verbal, not physical.)

Summary: You and Spencer Reid had been together for a year before he ‘died.’ You grieved him. You mourned him.

A/N: Title stolen from my (current) favourite Taylor Swift song. Not sure how I feel about this one but! Here it is anyway! My requests are open & pls feel free to let me know what you think!!

14 days and 30 minutes exactly

You don’t think about the day Spencer Reid died. You can’t, because even remembering he’s dead feels as if an ice bucket has been tipped over your head. Not even now, two weeks later, have you really gotten over the initial shock that you felt. Every waking moment felt like you were trying to solve some kind of never-ending puzzle. Each emotion was overwhelming, too much to process. It felt like things would only start to get better, like everybody promised they would, when you started to be able to name the emotions rather than describe them as the physical sensations they brought on.

And you didn’t think that’d happen anytime soon.

The shared apartment was too much. You hadn’t slept in your bed since he’d been gone, and forbid anyone else from going into the bedroom. It was a sanctuary.

You understood now more than ever why victims families never changed a thing about the room of their loved ones. Every single thing felt deliberate. Theirs. It was a reflection of the time they were most alive, living. A unique snapshot of them in motion. The mess they left that they expected to come home to.

Rationally, you knew that wasn’t true. There wasn’t a sock hanging off Spencer’s bedside table, or a clean cardigan balled up on the floor, for any reason other than he’d been in a rush that morning, and had left an uncharacteristically large mess in his wake. In more ways than one.

***

2 months, 5 days, 8 hours

Being back at work helps somewhat, but the office feels empty without him there to ramble off factoids about anything and everything, to hear Morgan calling him ‘kid’ every five minutes. He only called you that now.

Simmons is nice, really he is. It isn’t his fault he’s there in place of Spencer and you try hard not to feel personally aggrieved by his presence. He doesn’t do anything to antagonise you, he stays out of your way more than anything. You don’t do anything to purposely make him uncomfortable: you do try to be agreeable and make small talk. But it’s hard not to look at him without thinking how, if everything was how it should be, Spencer would be stood in his place.

***

3 months, 26 days, 3 hours.

There is no ‘new normal.’ You’ve heard the term tossed around a few times in relation to grief, but if there is a new normal you’re still struggling to find it. When you’re not on cases, there’s no ‘normal’. You still don't sleep in your own bed. Sometimes you stay on Rossi’s, or Morgan’s, or Garcia’s couch. Sometimes, read: maybe once, it’s in the spare room at the place you and Spencer used to share. Sometimes, when you get worried about being a burden, it’s a hotel. It’s easier to feel as if you’re choosing to stay away from home, rather than acknowledging that home, as you understand it, no longer exists.

You still wake up and instinctually search for Spencer most mornings. Sure, work is keeping you occupied and you smile a little more these days. You even allowed yourself to be dragged out for drinks last weekend. But nothing feels like it should. You don’t know if that’s normal for grief or if you just aren’t moving forward at all, doomed to tread yourself deeper into the melancholic quicksand that’s got a hold on you.

You talk at length about it with Garcia over wine one night.

“Nothing feels right,” you admit, “Everything just feels...”

Garcia waits, just tipping her chin slightly to encourage you to continue. She’s got the counsellor act down and you’d have the decency to feel embarassed if you weren’t just so damn exhausted all the time.

“I feel trapped, I guess. Like I’m frozen. I keep thinking maybe it’ll get better once the trials over. Once the whole legal aspect of it is over and put to bed, then maybe I’ll have some closure on the whole situation,” you mumble, “I just don’t know how to move forward. I don’t feel like I’ve moved forward. And I know it’s only been three months but I’ve only stayed at our apartment twice and I can’t bring myself to move any of his things and...”

She just waits. In that moment, you’re so grateful for her.

“I’m stuck here. I can’t change anything. I can’t bring myself to move any of his things. I’m paying rent on a place I don’t live in but I can’t move because how can I live somewhere he’s never been? I feel like I’m stuck. I can’t move out of the world he lived in but the world is moving on even without him. And I’m just...I’m just here, Garcia.”

She nods sympathetically, placing her hand on your arm, “Maybe it’ll help when the case is wrapped up. When you have that closure.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “Yeah. I hope so.”

“There’s something you’re not saying,” she says, gently, “And you don’t have to say it. But if you’re holding back because you feel guilty then you don’t have to feel guilty about anything you say to me, my darling.”

You start to well up then. The pressure in your chest is heavy, something akin to guilt. It slices into your chest, cut glass sitting between your ribs and slicing you open every time you breathe in. You’ve been thinking it a lot lately. Too much. It’s making you feel awful and you can’t decide if putting it out into the world verbally is going to be a release or make it feel too real.

Garcia waits patiently.

You decide to believe it’ll be the former, then whisper, “I wish I loved him less. I wish I’d loved him less so this wouldn’t hurt as much.”

And then the sobs come. The sobs that wrack your chest and sting your eyes and leave you looking like you’ve been on the receiving end of an upper cut. Because how could you? How could you possibly want to take back any of the love you had so willingly, freely, given to the person you loved most? What kind of person did it make you to want to take back the good memories: to wish that instead of having waffles on the couch that last Sunday, you’d had a fight about the library fine he’d gotten because of you? How could you want to switch the puzzle pieces to create a less idyllic picture of your life together, just so you wouldn’t feel so much loss when you looked at it?

She just rubs your back through it, knowing that no words can help but still saying the thing she thinks you need to hear most, “That doesn’t make you a bad person, sugar plum. That makes you human.”

***

4 months, 6 days, 14 hours.

Hotch calls you all into the briefing room.

“A few months ago a decision had to be made. Somebody had the potential to make an incredible breakthrough on a case that had been airtight for years. But it wasn’t possible for that individual to complete that work without cover. They needed to be officially gone,” Hotch’s voice booms but you swear you can hear a hesitation, “It wasn’t necessary at the time for you to have that information. Providing you with it would have compromised the safety of one of our agents, and the integrity of their investigation.”

You glance around the room, confused, noticing everyone is sharing the same bewildered look. Except Emily.

“I apologise completely for having to keep this from you, it was a decision that was not taken lately, and I did not have the final say. That being said, any discontent about this decision should be directed towards me,” he glances towards Emily, and she’s looking nervous now.

Hotch lets out a huff, somehow more tense than usual, “SSA Reid was not killed after the attack in Seattle. That was his cover, but he was investigating a case.”

He’s still talking but you can’t hear anything. SSA Reid was not killed. SSA Reid was not killed. You flip the sentence over a hundred times. And for the millionth time since SSA Reid was killed, you have no idea what you feel.

There’s uproar from everybody. Shouting. And then Hotch says something and everybody is looking at you, scanning you for a reaction and you have nothing. Nothing at all.

“Hi,” a voice from the doorway, nervous and shy, a voice you’ve only heard in dreams and voicemails and recordings from nights out that you must have watched hundreds of times by now, if they were tapes you would have worn them out long ago.

And you know you can’t face him. You can’t face any of them.

You look around the room, first at Hotch whose eyes flicker with what looks like remorse. Then, at Emily who just looks guilty as all hell. You don’t look at him. You can’t look at him.

The tension in the room is palpable but in your peripheral you see Garcia and J.J flock to the doorway, embracing him.

Rossi, is the one who comes to you, “____?”

You stare at him, completely blankly, “Yeah?”

“You need to speak to him. Need to hear him out.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, allowing him to help you to your feet. His reassuring hands on your shoulders turn you around and you meet his face. The face of the boyfriend you spent the last four months mourning while everybody watched you fall apart. And half of them knew.

So that’s what you feel. Anger.

“Glad you’re back,” you snipe, pushing past him, “Glad you’re alive.”

Everybody watches you go. A tense silence fills the room. Spencer clears his throat, after what feels like an eternity, muttering, “I-I’ll go after ... I’ll go and see if I can...”

It wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for, if he’s honest. Although he wasn’t sure what exactly he’d been expecting.

“____ please, just let me talk to you, I’m sorry, please just let me have a chance to explain,” He manages to catch you at the elevator just in time, slipping through the gap with his lithe body, “Please. I need to explain. I need to apologise.”

“You can apologise as much as you want. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You’ll never deserve my forgiveness.”

The venom in your tone leaves him floundering.

“___ please,” he’s begging, and you won’t look at him because you can hear the tears in his voice and he’s begging again, “Please, please look at me, please listen to me. You have to understand, you have to give me a chance to explain, please.”

You’ve never been this angry at him before. But you are now. It consumes you, you’ve never understood a crime of passion before and you’re not going to put your hands on him, of course, but fuck do you understand it now. How a person could just snap. The rage swells in you, screaming. Every muscle in your body is tense. It takes all you have to ball your hands into fists, digging your nails into your palm so hard you’re sure they break the skin. You’re furious. Furious at every single one of them.

“You lied to me,” you spit, “You lied to me and let me think you were dead. You and Hotch and Emily. I didn’t sleep in our bed for four months, Spencer. I’ve spent the past four months frozen, like, I couldn’t move forward without you. I didn’t start to move on. I've spent the last four months falling apart and trying to find a way to put myself back together without you, and then what, you just come back? You think we can just go back to normal? Spencer, I didn’t feel alive this past few months. I’ve been floating through, barely keeping it together. And for what? A case? That was important enough for you to do this to me?"

It’s true, you’ve spent the last four months feeling like you were the one who died. That you were united in being ghosts, except you were haunting all the places you used to go together, and he was just haunting your dreams. And he’d been alive. This. Whole. Time.

You storm out of the lift, lifting your head to look at him for only the second time in four months, “Please. Just leave me alone. You’ve done enough.”

He knows you aren’t wrong. Knows he doesn’t know if he could forgive you if the roles were reversed. Knows, more than anything, that he’s really fucked things up. You’ll never forgive him. That’s what you said, and right now, seeing anger like never before in your eyes, he has no reason whatsoever to doubt that isn’t completely true.

You don’t even make it to the parking lot before you feel your resolve melt into absolutely nothing. Anger descending into relief, hot tears cascading down your cheeks as the mantra starts again on a new loop in your head: SSA Reid was not killed.

[manonblaqkbeak]

Motel Living

this idea would not leave me alone, despite me having like three other fics barely done. it is very random. i dont even know what to say lol.

2554 words

enjoy!

Today was officially the one month anniversary of Aelin moving into a three-star motel. She did not think she'd be here for long, a couple of weeks at most, but here she was a month later, and on a Friday night no less. She should have been out with her friends, but she opted to stay inside.

She had to tell herself that she shouldn't complain. That there were people that were worse off than her. Living in a motel was fine.

But it still didn't change the fact that Aelin wished she wasn't living in a motel room. Especially one that was popular with long haul truckers whose snores sounded like chain saws and blenders on the highest level. That right now, down in the restaurant/pub that was only six doors down, an important football game was playing and the patrons inside were cheering wildly.

Aelin missed the house that she had been renting the last three years. Last year she had decided to start saving so that she could purchase the house itself, since it was still on the market since the day she moved in. It was hard, but Aelin was a determined woman and she set her sights on purchasing the house—she felt like she practically owned it anyway—up until the day she received a call from the real estate agency telling her that the house had been purchased and she had to move out.

Aelin disliked crying, but the waterworks started the minute she hung up. She really did love that house. Had created a small vegetable and herb garden to make it feel more homely. Made it hers in the three years she had occupied it.

There was a tiny silver-lining, however, since the new owners were coming from the other side of the continent, she had plenty of time to pack and move out.

But that silver-lining quickly disappeared once she started her search for a new home in-between packing and work. Every apartment, every house, every unit she looked out at was taken by the time she handed in her application. Every inspection starting to become fruitless when she knew that she wouldn't be the one to live in it.

Aelin hadn't realised that the market had become so cut-throat. She knew she was the perfect applicant because in all her years renting she never missed a single day, never received a complaint. Even when the landlord dragged his ass to fix something, Aelin kept her temper in its leash and did not throttle him the way she wanted too.

And as her luck ran out and Aelin had started to truly worry about where she was going to live because while she had multiple people in her life, she quickly realised that she couldn't ask any of them if she could move in for multiple reasons:

Aedion and Lysandra were recently married, and Aelin hadn't wanted to burst their newlywed bubble.

Chaol and Yrene were brand new parents, their baby girl born the day Aelin moved out, and she knew the last thing they wanted was someone else in the way.

Nehemia was in the same position as her, but her parents had invited her back home while Nehemia looked for somewhere else. Aelin's parents were dead, and her childhood home had been destroyed in a wildfire a five years ago, and Aelin had used the insurance money to pay off her debts. She cursed herself now for doing that, but Aelin hated being in debt and she did what she had too.

Fenrys lived in a one bedroom unit and had the worlds most uncomfortable couch, so he was out. And while Fenrys was one of her best friends, she didn't really talk with Connall, his twin. Nor did she often talk with Vaughn.

Dorian and Manon were travelling all over Erilea and Dorian's younger brother Hollin was house-sitting. Aelin couldn't stand Hollin for more than a few minutes at a time and she would rather live in the motel for a year than live in with him.

And then there was Rowan. He had been a close friend for years, until five months ago they decided that they had liked each other too much to keep being friends and officially started dating (at Lysandra and Aedion's wedding, of all places). If they had been together for longer, she would have asked him—but she didn't want to rush anything, because Aelin could so clearly see a future with him and she didn't want to hurt that future by moving in far too early in their relationship.

So that left Elide, her lifelong friend that was more like a sister. Elide was purely on the bottom of the list since she knew her friend cherished living alone after living in a shit-hole with her even shittier uncle—but Aelin knew Elide and if Aelin needed a place to stay, then Elide's door would be wide open. The two had gone to lunch and Aelin had been just moments away from telling Elide everything and asking for a world changing favour.

Until Elide had excitedly announced that Lorcan was going to move in.

And Aelin's plan had deflated. Again, Aelin knew that if Elide was aware of how desperate she was, Elide would invite Aelin to stay, but since Lorcan and Aelin didn't particularly get along, Aelin kept her mouth shut and congratulated her friend for the new milestone in their relationship.

So, all her options completely exhausted, Aelin looked for vacant motels, found that this was the best out of all the options and became a long-standing tenant.

Aelin had managed to keep everyone away from her new apartment by claiming that it wasn't ready for visitors. Most knew that Aelin was house-proud, a trait that she had inherited from her late mother, so they knew that when Aelin was ready, she would invite them.

It was getting hard, however, to keep Rowan away. Each date night and hang out ended up at his apartment and Rowan was becoming curious as to how her new place was looking.

Rowan wasn't judgemental, and he wouldn't look down at her for living in a motel room, but Aelin was the problem; she was too proud to show him her new place. Even when she was at her lunch with Elide, she had to beat down her pride at just the mere thought of asking Elide if she could move in.

Tonight, however, Aelin knew in her bones that Rowan would ask to come over. He had a completely shitty day at work—one that ended up in the hospital because for the first time in his career as a carpenter, Rowan had somehow gotten his hand in the way of his nail gun and shot right through the middle of his palm and was off work until it healed, which Rowan hated the most out of the whole ordeal, since Rowan was the type of person that always had to be doing something.

So when his face finally popped up on her phone screen, Aelin muffled a groan into her pillow (because there was no way in hell she was using the standard sheets the motel provided, she needed her bedding or she wouldn't get any sleep), took a deep breath and plastered a smile onto her face.

“How's the hand?” she asked by way of greeting.

“It'd be a lot better if there wasn't a hole in it,” was his groggy reply. “I just woke up from the longest nap and thought of you.”

“That's sweet of you to say,” Aelin said, “do you want me to come over? I could cook you my world famous grilled cheese.” Please say yes, she thought, please.

“As much as I love the sound of that, I just need to get out of my house,” Rowan said, “I know that you're house-proud and if you don't want me to see it, I understand, I'll even wear a blind fold if that'll make you happy, but I just...” he trailed off and Aelin could see his pained expression even though they were miles apart.

“Seeing all your work tools is making you miserable,” she supplied. Rowan grunted in confirmation. Taking a deep breath, Aelin said, “You can come over, I don't mind. I'd be happy to see you.” And she would be. She'd just have to kick her pride in the corner. “There's a pub right around the corner from mine and the cheeseburgers they have are really fucking good, and I mean that sincerely. Do you want me to get you one? Because I only have snacks and canned food at the moment.”

“A burger sounds good, with extra tomato, please.”

Aelin smiled. “Of course, I'll text you the address, and I'll see you soon.”

After ordering their dinner, Aelin tidied up (even though the space was immaculate) and waited, and waited. When a gentle knock sounded at her door, Aelin took the food from the restaurant worker and was just about to go back in when Rowan's truck pulled up.

Even ten car spots away, Aelin could see his puzzled expression from where she stood. Placing the food on the small, round dining table, Aelin waited by the door and gave Rowan her best smile when he stood in front of her.

His puzzled expression melted away momentarily when she kissed him hello, but it was back in full force when they pulled away.

“Fireheart,” was all he said, and it said everything that he didn't say.

“I know.”

“You're living in a motel room.” There was no judgement in his voice, like she knew there wouldn't be, but it was clear that he was confused about the whole thing. She should have just told him. She loved her late mother, but really hated the fact that she had passed her pride to Aelin. She hated the fact that, deep down, she was embarrassed, even if Aelin told herself that she had no reason to. The housing market was insane, there was no where else for her to go, and that she hated herself for not saving more money to buy her home of three years.

“I am,” Aelin said, “but it's not so bad. It's affordable and clean.” Aelin invited him inside and sat him down the small dining table.

From his spot, he took in the space. Saw the bar fridge that could barely hold a bags worth of cold food, her toaster oven and the dual butane stove she had to purchase because she didn't want to have to use the toaster oven all the time. The tiny closet that held a decent amount of clothes, but didn't make a dent in her considerable mountain of clothes that she had put away in the storage unit she was renting.

None of her candles were in sight and no books either. Aelin was taking full advantage of her library apps, but it wasn't the same. Aelin loved the feeling of a book in her hands, but there was no space and it would have been silly to bring in her bookcases.

“Where's all your stuff?”

“In a storage unit. I considered living in there, but it doesn't have an air-conditioner and this place does.”

Before Rowan could say anything, Aelin turned on the TV, put on whatever movie sounded dumb enough and ate her dinner.

Aelin could see the question burning in his eyes as she stuffed her mouth to avoid answering that very question.

Why didn't Aelin ask if she could stay with him?

Aelin wanted to tell him, she really did, but was afraid that if she showed how serious she was, Rowan might admit that he wasn't as serious as her.

But Aelin knew herself, knew that she was going to tell him at one point or another. She could tell Rowan anything and he wouldn't flinch. It was her own doubt stopping her.

“That really is the best burger I've ever had,” Rowan said when he was finished.

“It really is,” was all Aelin could think of to say. Gods, she felt so damned awkward. The question was still in Rowan's eyes, even as he laughed at the movie and its stupidity. So to avoid it for a bit longer, Aelin took the take-away boxes into the dumpster outback and immediately went for a shower afterwards.

When she came out, Rowan was lounging on her bed, his injured hand laying across his chest, the other arm fiddling with her comforter. Aelin dressed in a shirt that she may have borrowed without asking from Rowan and a pair of sleep shorts.

Borrowing underneath her comforter, Aelin rested her head on Rowan's chest and the awkwardness she felt deflated a bit as he pressed a kiss on her head.

Aelin told him how she ended up here. Including her embarrassment and annoyance at herself. Rowan listened attentively, as he always did. That was one of the biggest things she loved about him, that he listened. And Aelin was in love with him, she knew without a doubt. She was certain she fell in love with him when he danced with her at Aedion and Lysandra's wedding.

When the credits started to roll, Aelin took a deep breath and decided to plunge into uncharted territories. She kept her eyes glued onto the screen.

Aelin decided to bite the bullet. If it all went to hell, she would beat herself up later.

“I don't want to fuck things up with you.” Well, that wasn't how she wanted to start this conversation, but she supposed it was the best way to start off. “I wanted to ask you if I could move in, but our relationship is just so new, and I didn't want to ruin our future, because I can see a future with you, Rowan.” Moving so that she could look Rowan in the eye, Aelin took the deepest plunge imaginable and told him, “I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.”

The smile he gave her was the most beautiful she'd ever seen. “I love you, too, Aelin.” Reaching down to kiss her, all of Aelin's doubts melted away. When he pulled back, Rowan said softly, “If you wish to ask, I'll say yes. Because I see a future with you too. You're the one for me.”

“Rowan, can I move in with you?”

He kissed her again. “Yes, you can.”

Aelin's cheeks were started to become sore from all her smiling. Maybe it was a good thing after all that she ended up living here.

Hours later, after another bad movie and celebrating the new milestone in their relationship (which was mainly Aelin laughing as she rode Rowan because he kept forgetting about his injured hand), Aelin and Rowan got ready for bed, and as Aelin rested her head on his chest again, she said, “Just to let you know, I'm going to replace your mattress for mine, because yours is hard as stone.”

“That's exactly why I'm letting you move in, I'm in the market for a new mattress.”

Aelin playfully whacked his chest and muttered what a buzzard he was, but soon fell asleep with a smile on her face, ready for her future with Rowan.

[bibbawrites]

First Man - Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Request: NONE

Word Count: 1735 words 

Summary: the song First Man by Camila Cabello but make it about Charlie Gillespie

Warnings: i think theres one swear word and thats all ?

A/N: so i had originally written this for another fandom that i am no longer in but i decided to change it to charlie cause why not  this is literally just the song first man by camila cabello, so go listen to that if you dont know it haha  again i tried to make this gender neutral but i may have messed up at one point so if i did im very sorry  anyways hope you enjoy this little fluffy piece 

Tag List:  @happinessinthedarkesttimes​ @littlemissaddict @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @headheartbellarke @lovesanimals​ @bartok-the-bat @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik

Winter 2019

It was a mild Winter's afternoon in LA. You walked down the stairs of your family home, bag in hand, smiling when you spotted your family sitting around the table, a board game in the middle.

"Y/N! Come join us!" Your mum called when she spotted you enter the room. You shook your head.

"Maybe another time, sorry guys. I'm actually just heading out, I'm gonna stay with Charlie tonight... is that okay?" Your father sighed before nodding.

"When will we get to meet this Charlie boy that we hear so much about?" He asked, standing up to walk over to you. You shrugged.

"I'm not too sure, but it will be soon, I promise." You grinned. Your little sister looked up from the game board.

"What's he like Y/N?" She asked, looking at you intently. A soft smile appeared on your face at the thought of your boyfriend.

"He's really sweet. He's funny, just like you Dad. He’s not super tall but it doesn’t even matter. And he loves dragging me along on hikes." You paused.

"I really like him." You finished. Your dad frowned slightly, but hid it quickly.

"That's nice to hear darling. Don't forget a jacket, okay?" He told you. You looked at your father knowingly. He had been like this with every boy you’d ever brought home, not that you'd brought home tons of boys before.

"No it's okay, it’s not that cold outside today. Besides, he's waiting outside for me." You said, glancing down at your phone to see the text from Charlie.

'I'm here' it read. You looked back up again, noticing your father watching you. He stepped closer, pulling you into a hug.

"Don't freak out Dad, I'll be fine." You assured him. He squeezed you tightly.

"I just worry about you." You smiled, pulling away.

"I know, I get that. But I'm an adult now Dad. I got this."

"I know, I know." He sighed. By now the rest of the family had gone back to their game.

You patted your dad on the chest before turning to leave, stopping when your hand touched the doorknob. You turned back around to face your father.

"Just remember Dad, you were the first man that really loved me." And with that you turned back to the door and left, leaving your dad to smile sadly. His little baby was growing up.

 Summer 2020

It was Summer and you and Charlie had a few days off from work. You had decided to head back to LA together, to visit your family. After all, you had been dating for over a year and Charlie still hadn't met your family yet. The family that you spoke so highly of.

You touched down at LAX and made your way through security quickly.

"You ready?" You asked, holding tightly to Charlie's hand as you made your way to baggage claim, where you had organised to meet your parents.

"Honestly? I'm fucking petrified." Charlie responded, causing you to laugh.

"You'll be fine. Everyone loves you Char, and my family will be no different." You walked around the corner, spotting your Dad quickly.

"Dad!" You called, rushing over to hug your father. Charlie walked over slowly. You pulled away and grinned, glancing at Charlie.

"Dad, I'd like to meet my boyfriend, Charlie." You introduced. "Char, this is my dad, Sam."

Charlie held his hand out for your dad to shake.

"It's nice to officially meet you Mr Y/L/N. Can I call you Sam?" He smiled nervously. Your father looked him up and down before taking his hand and shaking it.

"Sir will do. Charlie, short for Charles I assume?" His glare was stone cold. Charlie swallowed, nodding.

"Yes sir, but I prefer Charlie." Your father nodded before turning his attention back to you.

"How long are you two here for?" He asked, ignoring Charlie, who moved to grab the both of your bags that were coming along the carousel.

"We have 8 days off, but we're only here for 4." You responded. Your dad nodded.

"Well I guess that's better than nothing. Come on let's go, your mother is waiting in the car outside. She didn't want to pay for parking so she's been driving around while I waited in here."

And with that the three of you headed outside to the car.

 Luckily for Charlie the rest of your family weren't as scary as your father was.

Your mother was lovely, and she had been very welcoming, even speaking to him in French when it was brought up that the two shared a common language.

Your brothers were really cool and invited him to join them to play video games whenever he wanted.

And your little sister, well, she adored the Canadian boy from the minute he walked through the front door.

And just like that Charlie’s first day at the Y/L/N house was over.

After sitting outside for hours with you and your parents, Charlie decided to head off to bed, and with a quick kiss for you and a murmured "goodnight" he was gone.

"So what do you think?" You asked once you knew that Charlie was well and truly inside.

"He's lovely darling." Your mother told you, smiling. You turned to your father.

"Dad?" You asked. Your father shrugged.

"He's not too bad, I guess." He admitted. You shook your head slightly. Of course your father would say that.

"I met his family you know? They're really nice, just like you guys." You told your parents.

"Oh, that's good sweetie." Your mum grinned.

"His parents are great, they're really down to earth. And his brothers and sister are really cool. Plus they love their hockey." You looked at your dad as you said the last part, knowing how big of a hockey fan he was. Your dad nodded in appreciation.

"That's good to hear. If they like hockey they must be good people." Your mother nodded in agreement with her husband. You fell into a comfortable silence for a few seconds.

"You know..." You began, breaking the silence. "I think he might be the one." Your mother put her hand up to her mouth, unable to hide her excitement.

"Oh Y/N, you really think so?" She asked. You nodded.

"Yeah, I really love him." You smiled.

"And he's a good man?" Your dad questioned, fixing his gaze on you. You nodded quickly.

"I swear on my heart. He loves me, and he'd never hurt me." You assured him.

"Good." He said, and with that the conversation was over, the topic changing to gossip about a family friend who's husband had cheated on her.

And later when you were heading off to bed you made sure to give your dad an extra big hug and remind him softly that he was the first man that really loved you.

 The four days passed quickly and before anyone knew it, it was time for you and Charlie to leave.

Your family gathered on the driveway, next to Charlie’s car that he had collected on your second day back. After a few hugs with your siblings Charlie moved to bid farewell to your parents. Your mother pulled him into a hug.

"It was lovely to meet you darling." She said softly, before pulling away.

"You too." He smiled. "It was lovely to meet all of you."

"Don't be a stranger Charlie." She said.

"Yeah come back all the time." Your little sister agreed. Charlie nodded.

"I'll make sure of it." He turned his attention to your father, holding out his hand for him to shake. Your father took it, shaking it firmly.

"Thank you for having me sir." Charlie smiled politely. Your father paused, before faking a smile.

"It was no problem." You exchanged a knowing look with your mother. You both knew that your father didn't think that Charlie deserved you.

After a few more goodbyes you and Charlie hopped into the car and left, waving to your family as you pulled out. You had barely made it to the end of the street before you grabbed Charlie's arm.

"Wait we need to go back." You said quickly.

"Why?" Charlie asked, but turned around nonetheless.

"I forgot to tell my dad something." He pulled up in front of the house and you jumped out quickly, rushing over to your father who was still outside. He looked at you in confusion.

"I forgot to say, remember you were the first man who really loved me." You smiled softly, and with one last hug you left again.

 Spring 2022

It was a beautiful Spring day in Hawaii. You and your father were stood together at the top of the beach, dressed to the nines, him in a fancy suit and you in your chosen wedding outfit.

It was almost time.

Time for you to walk down the aisle and marry the love of your life.

You looked over at your father, noticing his tie was slightly crooked. You took a step closer, and fixed the tie, watching as he tried to fight back the tears that were threatening to fall. You smiled softly at him.  

"You know, I've never seen you cry before." You whispered. Your dad smiled, a tear falling down his cheek.

"You just look so beautiful Y/N. No matter what, you'll always be my little baby." He responded, pulling you into a hug.

As you separated the music began to play, and he held his arm out for you to take.

"Here we go." You whispered, and the two of you began your walk down the beach to where Charlie was waiting, teary eyed, at the end of the aisle.

As you walked, your father found himself looking over at you, taking in the tears of happiness and the look of love that you were giving Charlie. Your dad smiled to himself, glad that you had finally found the perfect man for you.

You reached the end of the aisle and you pulled your father into a hug.

"Remember," You whispered. "You were the first man who really loved me." You pulled away, stepping back. Your dad hesitated for a second before stepping forward to pull Charlie into a hug.

"Take care of my little angel." He whispered. Charlie nodded.

"Of course Sir." They pulled apart and your dad smiled softly.

"You can call me Sam."

[squishmallow36]

Keeper of the Lost Prepositions - Twelve

Word count: 1.6k

Tw: Fitz angry

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added / removed): @stellar-lune @ichor-on-my-hands @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @snowflakewolves @poppinspop @crystallinewalker @uni-seahorse-572 @tiergan-andrin-alenefar  @books-over-boys @florida-llama-46 @when-wax-wings-melt @k00laidcrush @bowlcut-boyfriends @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizznee

On Ao3 or below the cut! Other chapters can be found here

    My meeting with Tinker the next day goes as expected. 

    Approximately five words are exchanged between us, but I manage to message Amy through one of my human laptops.

    Hey, Amy! This is Dex. Sophie’s friend. I wanted to make sure I did this correctly. I send after many rephrases and hesitating whether to send or to rephrase again.

    Prove that it’s you she responds, very quickly, I might add.

    Sophie mentioned once that you called me ‘Mr. Cute-redhead-with-dimples’ when you forgot my name.

    She sends four—yes, four—texts back in rapid succession. 

    Wait...she told u abt that? I specifically told her not to

    Fine

    What do u want

    And why arent u just hailing me normally

    English is hard, so it takes me longer than I’d hoped to explain.

    Okay, so, I’m a little bit paranoid that the Neverseen’s Technopath has hacked into the Foster squad’s Imparters, so I figured out how to message you through a laptop I made. Foster and I were hoping we could meet somewhere in the Forbidden Cities (your house?). We need your help with a thing and it’s better explained IRL.

    Since when do u call Sophie Foster and how do u know txting abbrevs

    How does she type so fast?

    I’ve been spending too much time with Keefe and I’m trying to learn about humans. I made a human reference yesterday and everything.

    Does tmrw like 2 pst work for u its the weekend here but I dont know if elves are weird like that

    Sure, I’ll let Foster know. Wait, are you in class right now?

    Obvi

    That’s short for ‘obviously’, right? I don’t want to have to go to Urban Dictionary.

    *sigh* 

    Hey, I’m better than the average elf about humans! At least I know something!

    And u still fully punctuate your messages *shakes head disapprovingly*

    Go pay attention in class.

    U arent in class too and btw theres no way im gonna pay attention

    Foxfire is on hiatus bc of the Neverseen until the Council decides it’s safe enough to go back. And your lack of apostrophes is really bothering me.

    Youre trying so hard to be cool grammar cop

    Pay attention in class.

    Will u do my homework at the mtg tmrw

    Did you know ‘mtg’ also stands for ‘Magic: The Gathering’?

    Whys your ? Outside the quotes hmm

    Bc the whole sentence is the question, not the part in the quotes.

    I guess I managed to annoy her enough to not respond, or her mentor—wait, humans call them teachers—must’ve found that she is texting in class, which is usually not good. I’m pretty sure a decent chunk of my words are in the Enlightened Language, and assuming her teacher’s human, I’m not too worried.

    Still a little worried. Welcome to my brain.

    After telling Sophie about the meeting time, I spend the next hour or so setting up a scrambled feed for Foster’s and my registry pendants—did Keefe even take his off? I’m gonna have to go check for that.

    I leap back home to make sure Fitz is doing okay, and I find him still baking in the kitchen, surrounded by mallowmelt, ripplefluffs, custard creams, and more that I can’t even identify off the top of my head. 

    “Well, somebody’s been busy,” I muse. 

    He didn’t realise that I’m back, or that he made so many different baked goods. 

    “I guess so,” he replied.

    I grab a fork and one of the pans of still-warm Mallowmelt, saying, “I think you need an official taste tester, am I right?” 

    He shrugs, and does the same with another pan of mallowmelt. 

    “The good thing is that with the triplets, this’ll probably be gone faster than you’d think was possible. But you might want to stay away when they’re on a sugar high. It’s scary.” 

    He nods again, and I realise that he’s said approximately four words to me today.

    “What’s wrong? You usually aren’t this quiet. I mean, you aren’t the most talkative—that honour goes to Hunky or your sister —but, like, you can carry a conversation, eh? So what can I do to help? Preferably in a way that doesn’t involve taking me away from this Mallowmelt—it’s really good.”

    “No reason to worry about me,” Wonderboy replies, too fast to be believable. 

    “Except for the fact that the phrase ‘no reason to worry’ does anything but make me worry less.” At least I’m pretty sure it’s a phrase. It doesn’t have a verb in it, so I think that’s what it is.

    “What do you want me to say? I’m fine! I don’t need you, or Biana, or anyone else to worry about me!” he snaps.

    “You think I want to be your babysitter? Biana stuck me with you with no warning! Surprise! I might actually have a life!” I retort, which I regret as soon as it leaves my mouth.

     I lower my voice and say, “Sorry. But, for better or worse, we’re stuck together, so you should probably accept that.”

    “Like how I have to accept that Sophie’s moved on?”

    “Have you thought that maybe she just doesn’t want to deal with a relationship right now? You weren’t the greatest boyfriend according to what I’ve heard, and, yes, I know she wasn’t the greatest girlfriend, but you know what? She went to the matchmakers for you! She went looking for her parents for you! And then when she found out who her mother is, she decided it would cause more harm than good to reveal her identity!”

    “Figures,” he mutters.

    “What?” I snap defensively.

    “You’d be on her side. You know exactly how it feels to be rejected! By her, no less! I thought you, of everyone we knew, would understand, but I guess not!”

    “In case you forgot, she’s my best friend.”

    He snorts. 

    I glare back.

    “And, actually, human studies have shown that being in a situation in the past that someone else is going through right now makes you less empathetic towards them!”

    “Now that sounds like a load of steaming sasquatch poop!”

    “I will Google it, right here, right now, if you don’t believe me.”

    He gives me a look that I’m pretty sure says that he trusts me with the random human facts, but that doesn’t mean he’s happy about it. 

    He sighs after a few seconds, and it makes him completely deflate. 

    “What can I do?” I ask tentatively.

    “I...I don’t think there’s anything other than time...And I don’t want to burden you with my problems…” he replies quietly, after a moment of contemplation.

    “As I already said, we’re stuck together by the will of your sister, who probably has an extensive amount of blackmail on both of us if you try to refuse. Additionally, I want to help. Let me help. Please.”

    “‘Additionally?’ Where are we? In the middle of a Metaphysics essay?” 

    “Yes.” I say as seriously as I can before we both break down into laughter.

    “I ran out of transitions, and you’re avoiding letting me be useful.”

    “How exactly do you plan on helping me with my problems that you shouldn’t even have to deal with?” 

    I cringe slightly at the preposition.

    “Wouldn’t you think it would be slightly helpful to have a Technopath on your side in your project to find Alvar?”

    “You could really find him? Assuming he’s still alive, I mean.”

    “I found Ethan Benedict Wright II, didn’t I? And he’s been dead for like five, maybe six, years. How hard can it be?”

    “Yes, but I don’t have access to Watchward Heath. I know that Forkle will disapprove of my search but…” he trailed off.

    “...you can tell he’s still alive, and if he is, then he can still cause problems,” I supply. 

    He nods solemnly.

    “I don’t know how, or why for that matter, but…exactly.”

    “It probably has something to do with your sibling bond or something like that. Like how Hunky’s mother has done so much and part of him still loves her.” 

    “How do you just refer to him so casually?” he asks. “The mere thought of him makes me want to punch a wall.”

    “First, most things make you want to punch walls, and, second, I know he’s going to be brought back here somehow, perhaps unwillingly, but I know he won’t be able to leave that easily.” 

    “That sounds ominous.”

    “Yeah,” I say, and grab a pan of chocolate-mint ripplefluffs because more sugar is necessary. 

    Fitz snatches one of them from my pan that I’ve very much claimed as mine now, and I almost screech at him. Then I remember he made them, so he’s allowed one. Maybe two if he asks nicely.

    Mine. 

    Great, I sound like the seagulls in Finding Nemo. 

    “Just so you know, I’m gonna have to leave the triplets in charge of you again tomorrow. Foster and I have a meeting with Amy in the Forbidden Cities and it might take a significant amount of time. I have about three or four hours set up to scramble our registry feeds, but I’d rather the council didn’t know about our little trip and if the Neverseen are tracking us the same way, then they’ll know where Amy lives,” I mention.

    “Okay. Do you think I could hail Biana to see if I’m allowed back home?”

    “Yeah, but remember: baked goods are the best bribes”

    “That was a lot of—wait what’s the word for when there’s a whole bunch if the same sound, not rhyming but, like, similar”

    “Alliteration, or, more specifically, in this case, consonance. Because b is a consonant. I didn’t even try. But, am I wrong?”

    He gets the go-ahead from Biana to be allowed to go back to Everglen, but has to take many more pans of mallowmelt and assorted baked goods than I would like.

    Then again, if the triplets had gotten into that much sugar—I shudder slightly.

    The world already has enough problems.

[kellyvela]

Has GRRM ever said in any interview or on his blog that he hates Sansa's complete storyline after 4th season? I dont really follow all of his fan/media interactions but from what I can recall he has spoken abt how LF in books wont give sansa to ramsay or how noone had issue when Jeyne was given the Ramsay storyline in books etc. Asking this question to you bcs you rightly point out how ppl misunderstood his interviews/posts ( sansans/targ stans etc) & I cant recall him ever saying he 'hates' sansa's story in the later seasons of the show ( not s5 in particular but even s6 to s8).

Capclave 2013:

A change that has repercussions for season 4 is Marillion’s tongue removal from the first season. Martin said that the change was made (from an anonymous singer being the victim of a de-tonguing) because they wanted Joffrey to maim someone the audience would recognize. He believes this is an issue because of the part the singer plays in Sansa’s storyline, how he affects her interactions with others in the book, and he doesn’t believe another character will be fulfilling that role on Game of Thrones.

—GRRM talks season 4 & beyond - Winter is Coming - October 13, 2013

2014 Fan Reports about Capclave 2013 (*):

In a convention panel this year, George said on the record that he had no idea what they were doing with Sansa or where they’re taking her storyline, which now makes sense perhaps. He was not pleased when he was talking about it, so who knows what’s going to happen with her! Knowing GRRM, that could mean they’re going off the canon reservation, and/or that they’re going to be making a lot of shit up

I have notes I’ll be responding to (thanks!) but enough people commented about Sansa that I thought I’d share that tidbit, since it happened back in September iirc (was the same panel where he criticized the exclusion of Tyrell brothers)

—starkalypse - June 3, 2014

GRRM’s comments at capclave about Sansa (which I was in the third row for, for those asking about legitimacy) were among others during the panel that had a general theme of dissatisfaction with show changes. He was not in good spirits for that con and didn’t really have anything positive to say regarding the show. So take it with a grain of salt; there are deviations away from the books in the episodes he gets writers credit for, so maybe they’re doing something stupid or they really don’t have a gameplan!

—starkalypse - June 4, 2014

(*) These reports were posted in June 2014, during the airing of Game of Thrones Season 4, about Capclave 2013 that happened in October 2013.

Just after the rape episode:

How many children did Scarlett O’Hara have? Three, in the novel. One, in the movie. None, in real life: she was a fictional character, she never existed. The show is the show, the books are the books; two different tellings of the same story.

There have been differences between the novels and the television show since the first episode of season one. And for just as long, I have been talking about the butterfly effect. Small changes lead to larger changes lead to huge changes. HBO is more than forty hours into the impossible and demanding task of adapting my lengthy (extremely) and complex (exceedingly) novels, with their layers of plots and subplots, their twists and contradictions and unreliable narrators, viewpoint shifts and ambiguities, and a cast of characters in the hundreds.

There has seldom been any TV series as faithful to its source material, by and large (if you doubt that, talk to the Harry Dresden fans, or readers of the Sookie Stackhouse novels, or the fans of the original WALKING DEAD comic books)… but the longer the show goes on, the bigger the butterflies become. And now we have reached the point where the beat of butterfly wings is stirring up storms, like the one presently engulfing my email.

Prose and television have different strengths, different weaknesses, different requirements.

David and Dan and Bryan and HBO are trying to make the best television series that they can.

And over here I am trying to write the best novels that I can.

And yes, more and more, they differ. Two roads diverging in the dark of the woods, I suppose… but all of us are still intending that at the end we will arrive at the same place.

In the meantime, we hope that the readers and viewers both enjoy the journey. Or journeys, as the case may be. Sometimes butterflies grow into dragons.

—The Show, the Books - Not A Blog - May 18, 2015

Report about the last Game of Thrones Script that GRRM wrote:

No Wedding for Sansa and Ramsay: Without question, one of the most controversial changes the show made in trying to streamline the books was by slotting Sansa into the role of Ramsay’s wife and rape victim in Season 5. In the books, Ramsay marries and assaults Sansa’s best childhood friend, Jeyne Poole—who is being forced to impersonate Arya—instead. (You can actually see Jeyne briefly sitting next to Sansa in the show’s pilot.)

At the time Martin wrote this script, though, substituting Sansa for Jeyne was not yet the plan. Martin has Roose Bolton tell his bastard son: “We have a much better match in mind for you. A match to help House Bolton hold the north. Arya Stark.” It should be noted, however, that in Martin’s script, Sansa isn’t free from menace either. At his own wedding-day breakfast, Joffrey still threatens to rape the older Stark sister—once he’s “gotten Margaery with child.”)

—Game of Thrones: The Secrets of George R.R. Martin’s Final Script - Vanity Fair - December 7, 2018

A month before the Game of Throne S8 Finale:

Sansa’s story, in particular, has really deviated from the books. Ramsay Bolton — that marriage obviously was with a different character. When they start deviating like that, did you initially have any emotional reaction, even though you worked in Hollywood for many years yourself?

GRRM: Well, yeah — of course you have an emotional reaction. I mean, would I prefer they do it exactly the way I did it? Sure. But I’ve been on the other side of it, too. I’ve adapted work by other people, and I didn’t do it exactly the way they did it, so ….

Some of the deviation, of course, is because I’ve been so slow with these books. I really should’ve finished this thing four years ago — and if I had, maybe it would be telling a different story here. It’s two variations of the same story, or a similar story, and you get that whenever anything is adapted. The analogy I’ve often used is, to ask how many children did Scarlett O’Hara have? Do you know the answer to that?

I know it’s different in the book and the movie …

GRRM: Three children in the book, one by each husband. She had one child in the movie. And in real life, of course, Scarlett O’Hara had no children, because she never existed. Margaret Mitchell made her up. The book is there. You can pick it up and read Mitchell’s version of it, or you can see the movie and see David Selznick’s version of it. I think they’re both true to the spirit of the work, and hopefully that’s also true of Game of Thrones on one hand, and A Song of Ice and Fire on the other hand.

—George R.R. Martin on the Stark Sisters and Ending ‘Game of Thrones’ - RollingStone - April 22, 2019

James Hibberd’s Book:

GEORGE R. R. MARTIN: Jeyne Poole was included in the pilot—she’s shown giggling next to Sansa—but she’s never seen or referred to again. I actually wrote Jeyne into “The Pointy End,” my first script, when Arya killed the stableboy. I had some stuff with Jeyne running to Sansa being all hysterical and dialogue in the council chamber with Littlefinger saying, “Give her to me, I’ll make sure she doesn’t cause any trouble.” That was dropped.

DAVID BENIOFF: Sansa is a character we care about almost more than any other. We really wanted Sansa to play a major part in that season. If we were going to stay absolutely faithful to the book, it was going to be very hard to do that. There was a subplot we loved from the books, but it was a character not involved in the show.

GEORGE R. R. MARTIN: I was trying to set up Jeyne for her future role as the false Arya. The real Arya has escaped and is presumed dead. But this girl has been in Littlefinger’s control for years, and he’s been training her. She knows Winterfell, has the proper northern accent, and can pose as Arya. Who the hell knows what a little girl you met two years ago looks like? When you’re a lord visiting Winterfell, are you going to pay attention to the little kids running around? So she can pull off the impersonation. Not having Jeyne, they used Sansa for that. Is that better or worse? You can make your decision there. Oddly, I never got pushback for that in the book because nobody cared about Jeyne Poole that much. They care about Sansa.

—Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon: Game of Thrones and the Official Untold Story of the Epic Series by James Hibberd - October 6, 2020

GEORGE R. R. MARTIN: My Littlefinger would have never turned Sansa over to Ramsay. Never. He’s obsessed with her. Half the time he thinks she’s the daughter he never had—that he wishes he had, if he’d married Catelyn. And half the time he thinks she is Catelyn, and he wants her for himself. He’s not going to give her to somebody who would do bad things to her. That’s going to be very different in the books.

—Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon: Game of Thrones and the Official Untold Story of the Epic Series by James Hibberd - October 6, 2020

I hope it helps you.

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☾ Will He?☽ 《Bakugo and Izuku X Reader》 Pt.2

Song: Will he - Joji

Hey bitches, take some more angst since the first part did tremendously well like holy shit-

I got knots all up in my chest.

You had been staying at Izuku’s house for the past week, and your days had consisted of crying, sleeping, working, and crying some more. Sometimes, Izuku managed to make you laugh, but for the most part, you had been stuck in a depressive state. Explaining to your receptionist what was going on, she was in the process of helping you issue a public statement saying you were no longer with the number two hero.

It was difficult to accept the fact that the Bakugo you once knew wasn’t the same Bakugo anymore. You two had been together for five years, so it was only understandable that you were hurting, but there were so many other things you were feeling. You felt anger at the fact he thought you were stupid enough to allow him to get away with it. You felt scared of the public and how they’d react, as well as the press. You felt so much disgust with yourself for allowing him to kiss you while being suspicious of another woman. Most of all, however, you were disappointed. Not in him, but yourself. You had played up this act, this lie that he had continued for two months, because you were too scared of the truth. You were scared of change, because he was all you ever knew. That wasn’t who you were.

Just know, I’m trying my best

You’d been recovering since the breakup, Izuku by your side. Slowly, he helped you back onto your feet, not financially, but emotionally. You were grateful every day for what he had done for you. He helped you the night you released your official statement, hugging you close as you cried into his chest. He took you out with your friends so you’d feel a little better, and he tried his best to do little things for you. Even though he was the number 1 hero, he still managed to remember things like your favorite candy or what kind of conditioner you preferred. It shocked you, to be honest. Bakugo never seemed to remember that kind of stuff.

Slowly, you went back to normal. A month passed since your breakup, and you were no longer holing yourself up in Izuku’s guest bedroom. You started looking for an apartment, and slowly, you felt yourself getting better. You were going to miss living with Izuku, but you were searching for something close by so you could still visit him whenever you wanted.

Currently, you were waiting for Izuku to meet up with you at your favorite café. He was going to help you pick an apartment complex today, and you were excited to see him as he had been working nonstop all week.

It had been fun, living with Izuku. You enjoyed being able to crack jokes while he cooked dinner and share a bowl of popcorn while watching mean girls, his unruly hair pushed back by a headband while he had a face mask on. It was funny to see him cranky in the morning, teasing him as you handed him his morning coffee. During the month, you had felt feelings bubble up in your chest for the broccoli-headed boy. You promptly shut those thoughts down. That was Bakugo’s childhood friend, and you were not about to get dragged into a love triangle, if you could call it that.

But when you look

You raised your head as you heard the familiar chime of the café’s entrance bell. Smiling, you got up to hug Izuku and pushed your computer aside. “Hey Y/N!” He said, smiling as he patted your head. You sat down, pulling you computer to your body. “Let’s get started!”.

When you laugh

When you smile

I’ll bring you back

“And then the guy had the audacity to say he didn’t steal anything when I had watched him!” Izuku finished, his story making you cry laughing. You two had finished apartment hunting, your computer closed off to the side as you enjoyed your friend’s company. A smile stayed on your face as you sipped you drink. What you weren’t aware of, was the gaze of a certain ash-blonde male.

He scoffed, his eyes watching you as you gently leaned your head against your hand. You looked at Izuku the same way you looked at him in high school. What was so great about him anyways? He didn’t even have his own quirk. He was nobody compared to...

He watched as you smiled at Izuku with so much love, so much joy. It hurt.

And now I’m sad

And I’m a mess

He knew it was his fault. He shouldn’t have done what he did. Sleeping around with his sidekick was the last thing he thought he was going to do. He knew he could just as easily go to you to get what he want, yet he didn’t. Was he bored? No, he wasn’t- he just thought he was hot shit. He thought that because he had reached number 2 status and you were content with where you were in life that you failed to keep up with him. He thought you went back on your promise.

But you hadn’t.

And now we high

That’s why I left

He stood up, paying for his food as he walked out. You blinked as you saw someone leaving, before making eye contact with him. Katsuki.

You immediately looked at Izuku, your muscles tensing up. “He’s here.” You muttered. He sighed, a mix of sympathy and annoyance mixed on his face. “I don’t know why he’s following you. You aren’t going to go back to him... are you?” He asked, looking at you. Pausing, you sighed. “It’s complicated.” You muttered, folding your hands. “I don’t want to right now, bu-“

“Then dont.” He said. You looked at him. “What?” “Don’t go back. Actually, I have a better idea.” He said, turning away as his cheeks flushed pink. You tilted your head. “What are you talking about, Izu?” You asked.

He looked at you, a small smile on his face. “What would you say if I suggested going on a date?” He asked. You blinked, eyes going wide. “A-a what?” You asked. He immediately waved his hands, getting flustered as he tried to backtrack. “Y-you don’t have to! It hasn’t been very long and I know you’re still probably recovering- oh my god why did I suggest this-“ he said, shooting off into a ramble as you smiled. Grabbing his hand, he stopped to look at you.

“I’d like that, Izuku.”

Humming, you added the finishing touches to your outfit as you combed out your hair. Your date plans were originally to go to a hero museum, however the hero commission decided to schedule a last-minute dinner party to congratulate Izuku on his ranking. You decided to go as his plus-one, and you were currently getting ready to leave.

“Y/N, are you almost- woah...” he said, question falling short as he stared at you. You laughed, getting up and grabbing his keys. “Yeah, let’s go.” You said, handing them to him. He put them in his pocket before holding your face gently. “You look amazing.” He said, a smile gracing his delicate features as you blushed. “Thanks- um... let’s go.” You said, gently moving his hands off so he wouldn’t see how embarrassed you were. He laughed, pulling his keys out and following you.

Will your tongue still remember the taste of my lips?

You knew he was going to be there. It was only inevitable. What you didn’t know, however, was that he was bringing her. Akemi Futara. You felt your skin crawl as she stared at you, like she had won a prize and was showing it off to the losing player. It made you sick, thinking of how you kissed him when he had gotten home after fucking her, and she knew that.

Sighing, you leaned into Izuku’s side, causing him to glance at you before giving you a sympathetic look. “I know, I know. If you want, I-I can ask for them to lea-“ “I’m fine. I know he’s your friend. She’s just annoying.” you muttered, closing your eyes. The people that kept coming up to interact with you and Izuku were giving you a headache. You could feel Bakugo’s stare on you, causing you to feel uncomfortable. He eyed you like you were still his.

“Izuku, kiss me please.” You said, causing him to turn to you sharply. A blush exploded across his face, and his eyes went wide. “I-I- whAt?” He stuttered, causing you to sigh. “Bakugo won’t take the hint. He’s gonna try to talk to me.” You muttered. “I just need to make him understand that I’ve moved on, so kiss me. You’re a grown man, so it’s not hard.” You teased. He gulped. Leaning down, he gave you a quick peck on the cheek. You huffed. “What the hell-“ “I don’t think we should kiss out of spite. I... I want it to be special, if we do...” he muttered shyly. You paused before smiling at him. “Izu, you’re adorable.” you giggled.

Will your shadow remember the swing of my hips?

Bakugo watched as you had fun, dancing your heart out with your friends. He felt envy as he watched Izuku struggle to groove with you. He watched as you took his hands and tried your best to teach him, slowly helping him understand. To say he was mad was an understatement. No, he was angry- pissed even. You dumped him and now you’re going after the guy he’s known since childhood? How low of a blow could you deal?

Jealousy was eating away at his core. He felt the same jealousy as he watched Izuku get everything he had wanted in life. Why couldn’t he have that? Why did it need to be him? As he grew in ranks, he distanced himself from you to work better, and you were okay with that. But he wanted more. He wanted to climb and climb and go higher and higher, but you had been content right where you were. You promised him you’d keep up with his pace, but as you brought up the thoughts you had of marriage, he realized that you wanted him to settle down with you.

And he didn’t want that.

Will your lover caress you the way that I did?

He realized as Izuku gently held your hands that he was wrong about everything. He should have just settled down. You were all he wanted in someone, and yet somehow, he wanted more. He was so greedy that he failed to see that what he had was the best he could get. He never gave you what you needed, yet he thought that he needed more.

Will you notice my charm if he slips up one bit?

He watched you go over to the bar and get a drink of water, chest heaving from how much dancing you had done. Getting up, he looked over to where Akemi was socializing before going over to you.

You saw him, cringing as you immediately turned your back to him. You didn’t want to deal with this tonight. It was supposed to be a night for you and Izuku, with no problems in the way. You watched as he took a seat next to you at the bar, ordering a drink before turning to you.

Cause I don’t need to know, I just wanna make sure you’re okay

“How are you?” He asked quietly, causing you to scoff. How were you? Fucking great, right now, but a month ago you were a damn wreck. Rolling your eyes, you looked down at your drink. “Im great. I can tell you are too, with that Akemi girl.” You said, matter of fact. He paused before nodding, despite it being far from the truth.

Cause I don’t need to know, I just wanna make sure you’re all safe

“He hasn’t hurt you, has he?” He asked. You turned to him. “If he did, I wouldn’t be here. Frankly, the only person in this room that’s hurt me is you.” You said, before turning away from him. “Please leave me alone, Katsuki. I don’t want to talk to you.” You muttered. He went quiet, his eyes staring into your back without faltering. After a bit, he closed his eyes and got up, moving away from you as he went to go talk to his friends. You sighed before feeling a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m proud of you.” Izuku said softly, gently rubbing circles into your shoulder. You smiled. You were proud of yourself too.

Will he play you those songs just the way that I did?

Izuku fumbled as he grabbed a guitar pick, sitting crossed-legged across from you on your bed. He had picked up learning how to play in his free time, and he wanted to show you what he knew.

Rain hit the windows quietly as he started to play you your favorite song, causing you to smile. He was so thoughtful, and he had shown you as much throughout the month you and him had spent dating.

Your memories with Bakugo were forever burned into your brain, but that was in the past. You had Izuku now. And that’s all you needed.

He started to sing quietly, smiling as you joined in. You watched his calloused hand stroke the guitar with such care. It made your heart flutter, how he was so built yet so gentle.

You heard a knock at your apartment door, causing you to go quiet as you looked at him. “Did you invite Uraraka over?” He asked curiously. You shook your head, watching as he set his guitar aside on the bed carefully. “I’ll get it. He muttered, moving to get up, but you stopped him. “It’s fine, I got it. Just relax.” You said, kissing his cheek before getting up and making your way to the door. Unlocking it, you pulled it open.

“Y/N.” Bakugo said, ruby eyes meeting yours. You blinked. What the hell was he doing here? It was raining, for Christ’s sake!

You frowned. “What is it, Bakugo.” You said, using his name formally. He cringed. It was like you never knew him. “I need to talk to you. Please, let me in.” He said. You had never seen him so desperate.

Will he play you so strong just the way that I did?

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Whatever you need to tell me better be short and sweet.” You said, opening the door as he stepped inside. You stopped him before he sat down on your couch. “You can stand.” You said coldly.

Clearing his throat, he looked you in the eyes.

“I want you back Y/N.”.

Will he treat you like shit just the way that I did?

You felt yourself go numb as he started to apologize in his stereotypical way. “I was an asshole, and I’m sorry.” He said. You could hear your ears ringing as you stared at him. Who the hell did he think he was?

“It took you two months to work past your pride and apologize? Are you kidding me?” You said angrily, causing him to huff. “I never apologize for anything, so this just shows how much I care.” “No, it shows how much of a fucking asshole you are!”

Cause I don’t blame you.

Growling, he balled his hands up as he started to shout back. “Why can’t you ever just listen to me?” He said. You laughed. “You don’t deserve that after you cheated on me and then apologized two months later after I had already moved on!” You shouted. You heard Izuku come down the hallway, seeing Bakugo argue with you. He gave him a look he rarely gave anyone. It was one of anger.

Cause I don’t need to know, I just wanna make sure you’re okay

“Get out.” He said coldly. Bakugo turned to him, anger evident in his eyes. “What the hell did you just say to me, Deku?” He sneered, causing you to glare at him. “I said get out. You’ve overstayed your welcome with my partner.” He responded. You watched as the realization hit Bakugo like a brick. He lost.

You finally knew you were worth more than him.

Cause I don’t need to know, I just wanna make sure you’re all safe.

You watched as he left quietly, shutting the door behind him. Izuku was still tense from the confrontation, and you went over to him. Touching his face gently, you gave him a sweet kiss on the lips. He turned red, immediately relaxing. “What was that for?” He asked. You smiled. “It was for defending me. Thank you for everything, Izuku.” You said softly. He smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist. “It’s my pleasure.” He said, kissing your temple.

You will always have memories of Bakugo.

But now, you had Izuku.