#and the way bad quietly said 'there isn't going to be a wedding. look at him he's obviously not in his right mind'

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

im still thinking about the 4halo proposal oh my god they make me insane

the parallels to the date. the fucking PARALLELS. the bench. bad drinking limonade vs guzzling the wine pierre threw him. the way forever opened up to bad both times. the roses. the sham of an interrogation versus the sham of a proposal. forever fucking dying (or totem popping) at both events. bad skipped out on the date to playfully leave forever with the bill and forever fled the proposal to avoid payback after the bbh murder attempt. bad suspecting forever was working for the feds vs the feds destroying forever. they spoke to each other at the date they spoke at each other at the proposal and both events were so so tragic but one was tragic because it was so fucking funny and the other was tragic because it was so fucking horrifying and. just !!!!

and the fact that forever held his presidential ring to propose... it's all just a mockery of love

[krirebr]

More Than This 5

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~6.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, Linda being Linda, all of the Thrombeys being really awful actually, explicit language, references to bad sex, flagrant disregard for HIPAA (actually, just assume that HIPAA doesn't exist in this universe), the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Oh god. I promise that there will be a point when this isn't so sad all the time and that point is soon. But it also isn't today. I'm so sorry. 😬

Huge thanks as always to @paperweight91 who listened to me whine and read countless fuzzy screenshots, and gave great advice and was just all around awesome. And to @stargazingfangirl18 who reached out with encouragement when the words just weren't coming.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Ransom had the complete collection of Harlan’s books. You couldn’t say exactly why that surprised you, but it did. He even had the two poorly-received romance novels Harlan had written under a pseudonym. You hadn’t known the two of them were so close, but then again, you still didn’t really know anything about Ransom.

So that’s what you’d been doing with your days, making your way through Harlan’s complete works. You were currently reading one about an au pair that had been found dead in her charge’s locked nursery when your phone rang. 

Your brow furrowed. The list of people who ever contacted you had gotten much shorter since you’d moved to Boston. Steve, Ransom, Linda unfortunately. That was pretty much it. You looked down at your phone to see your mother’s name. Oh.

You’d expected her to reach out in some way since your wedding and had tried very hard not to feel hurt when she hadn’t. Everyone’s lives had moved on. You were the only one stuck. But you still hadn’t had it in you to be the one who called her. You took a deep breath and answered your phone.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Honey! How are you?”

You kept in your sigh. “I’m fine. How are you?”

“Good, good,” she said, but she sounded sad. She always sounded so fucking sad. It struck you then, that that’s probably how you’d sound too, in ten or twenty years. Maybe less. Probably a lot less. “It’s so nice to hear your voice honey.”

“Yeah,” you said, and, pathetically, you could feel the tears starting to gather in your eyes. You weren’t angry with her. You couldn’t be. It wasn’t her fault she was so broken. It was inevitable. For all of you. And your frustration with her didn’t change how much you missed her. Missed home. Missed the way things used to be. “It’s good to hear you too.”

“I know it’s been a while,” she said softly, “but I wanted to give you a chance to get settled. How are things going?”

“They’re going fine,” you said quietly. You paused. You didn’t want to say anything bad or worry anyone, but also it was your mom. “I don’t know. It’s different here. I don’t have anything to do.” 

She just chuckled. “Cherish that. It’ll change soon and then you’ll miss this time.” You didn’t know what to say to that so you didn’t say anything. After a few moments of silence, she continued. “And how’s Ransom?”

You stifled a groan. You didn’t want to talk about him. Things had been… better since your panic attack. He came home at a decent hour regularly. You fucked most nights now. But he was still just this looming presence. You didn’t know what to do with him. “He’s fine,” you said with a shrug.

That was apparently the wrong answer, judging by the little hum she made. “I know it’s hard at the beginning. When I first married your father–” she cut herself off with a deep breath. “Remember, honey, keeping him happy is your one job now. It’ll get easier the longer you do it.”

A few tears finally broke free and fell down your cheeks. “I don’t– I don’t know him. I don’t know what makes him happy.”

“Then finding out will be a good use of your free time, won’t it?” You glanced at the book beside you, feeling shamed in spite of yourself. “I know it feels so hard, but men are shockingly easy. They just want to be taken care of. That’s all you have to do. Make him dinner. Keep his home warm. Give him heirs. Don’t argue. That’s all. You’re going to be such a good wife to him, sweetheart. I know you can do it.”

You shrunk down into the couch, wrapping your arms around your knees, making yourself as small as possible. You hated this. Hated that she didn’t want more for you. That she’d never tried to give you more. But you were tired, too, of being upset with her for not doing the impossible. What else was she supposed to have done? What else could she give you when she didn’t have anything herself? “Ok,” you whispered. It was all you could manage.

“Joseph says hello, of course,” she said, and you wanted to laugh. He’d done no such thing. “He’s so proud that you’ve made such a good match. He’ll be happy to hear it’s going well.”

“Mmm,” was all you were able to say. You hated this. You couldn’t do it anymore. “It’s so good to hear from you, mom. But uh, I have to– I have to go.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed. “Well, alright. I miss you so much, sweetheart. We’ll talk again soon. I love you.”

You could barely hold the tears back now. “I love you too,” you said, your voice thick. “Bye.” The moment you hung up the phone, the damn broke. You couldn’t stop it. You cried for your mom. You cried for yourself. You cried for the way everything had changed and there was no going back. You cried because this was a day when it felt like no one on earth was on your side. A shaking Lola forced her way into your lap and you held her until you were able to calm down.

Once you’d stopped crying, you looked around. You couldn’t sit still, your mother’s words ringing in your ears. Your eyes locked on the kitchen. That was something you could do. You glanced at the time. If Ransom came home at his new regular time, it would be tight, but you could do it if you made something simple. But not too simple. Something that showed effort. That you were trying. 

You got up and looked in the fridge. All those tidy little glass containers full of meals his housekeeper, Carol, made. You’d never felt like they were taunting you before, but now. Now you wanted to smash them. You could do this. You could make him like you. Show him what you were worth. You could make yourself a life better than your mother’s, maybe. Get him on your side.

There weren’t a ton of raw ingredients, but after combing through the entire contents of the fridge and pantry, you found what you’d need for a decent spaghetti. Carol was probably planning it for later in the week. Well, now she wouldn’t have to. You’d do it yourself.

You put some music on and got to work. Losing yourself in the prep. But you’d lost yourself too much maybe, because you were still chopping when Ransom walked in the door. 

Lola, of course, rushed to greet him. It still rankled. She didn’t realize that one wrong move would have him kicking her out. His words from that first dinner had never left your mind. But a few days ago, he’d started reaching down to pet her as she danced around him. You didn’t know what either of them were playing at.

He looked at you, now trying to hurry through the rest of your prep, his brow furrowed. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m making dinner,” you said, gesturing to all your work obviously. You looked at the time. You weren’t slow. He was early. Why the fuck was he early? He was ruining all your plans.

“Why?” he asked as he took off his coat, then shoes. “Carol’s put plenty of meals in the fridge.”

“Because I wanted to!” You said, your knife coming down on the onion under your hand too hard.

The knife hitting the cutting board caught his attention. He looked at what you were doing. “I don’t like onions.”

You threw down the knife more carelessly than you should have. It slid across the cutting board before coming to a stop at the edge of the counter. “Then why were they in the pantry?!”

“How should I know?!” he shouted back, matching your tone. But then he looked at you and stopped. “Have you been crying? What happened?”

You froze. Shit. You hadn’t even thought to check what you looked like. You swiped at your face and turned away. “It’s the onions. Obviously.”

“Your face– that looks like more than onions.” He now stood at the edge of the kitchen, only the island between you.

“I’m fine!” you snapped, then forced yourself to take a breath. “My mom called,” you conceded. “It’s fine.”

“Oh,” was all he said for a moment and then, “You and your parents are close then?”

You couldn’t explain why the question irritated you so much. Maybe it was the assumption of homesickness. Or referring to Joseph as your parent. Or just him being here earlier than he was supposed to be, asking you anything. You couldn’t keep the shortness out of your voice when you responded, “My mom. Sometimes.” 

You looked around at your progress, the mess you’d made, the onions he didn’t want. So much for keeping him happy. What a stupid idea. You felt done. Over everything. You began cleaning up all the food, scooping it into the garbage.

“What are you doing?”

“I changed my mind! You don’t want any of this anyway. Have one of Carol’s fucking dinners.”

“The fuck is going on with you?!” he shouted as he watched you clean up the kitchen.

“I changed my mind,” you repeated, throwing the cutting board into the sink. “I’m not hungry. I’m going upstairs.” You stomped over to the staircase.

“You’re not going to eat anything?” he called after you.

“No! I’m fine!” You shouted as you took the first few stairs.

“Yeah, you sure seem fucking fine,” he grumbled as he headed to the fridge. 

You stopped and glared at him. “Wake me if I’m asleep when you come up. I’m ovulating, so. Tonight’s important.”

He let out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah,” he said, flatly. “I got your text.” That was news to you. He'd never responded to it. As you turned to continue up the stairs, you heard him add under his breath, “Although I’m not sure why you feel like you need to be awake for it.”

You stopped and turned around, coming back down a step. “What was that?!”

He turned to you, one of Carol’s glass containers in his hand, and sighed. “Nothing. I’ve had a long day.” You just stared at each other and then he added, “Aren’t you tired of it being such a chore?”

Something crumpled in you at that, but you didn’t want to stop and look at what it was. “Well,” you said. “The sooner I’m pregnant, the sooner it won’t be.” Then you turned and stomped the rest of the way upstairs. 

When he woke you later that night, he was already ready to go. You didn’t even take off your pajamas, just slid your shorts down to your calves. He was right. It was a chore.

It was a few days later when he texted you in the middle of the day. You were hiding in the bedroom while Carol cleaned downstairs. She was still mad that you’d wasted the spaghetti ingredients. You were reading in bed with Lola when your phone buzzed beside you.

Big family thing at Harlan’s on Saturday. We’ll be expected.

For some reason, it was the ‘we’ that caught you. It was the first time you’d realized you were a package deal now. If Ransom was invited somewhere, you would accompany him. And vice versa if you were ever invited anywhere. You couldn’t imagine it, with how small your world had gotten. 

The rest of his message caught up with you. His family. Linda had reached out multiple times since her awful visit. Every time you spoke to her, you got so small. You worried that prolonged exposure to her might cause you to completely disappear.

Aside from his parents, you’d barely interacted with the rest of his family at the wedding. It would be fine. You would be fine. You’d have to be. They were your family now too. You’d be seeing so much of them. For the rest of your life. You ignored how much your chest tightened at that thought.

Saturday came too soon.

Ransom paced around the bedroom while you both got ready. You’d never seen him like this before. He wasn’t dressed. He just kept walking in and out of his closet. And looking at you. You didn’t know if you were doing something wrong. He didn’t say anything, he just couldn’t keep still. The one time you’d asked if he was alright, he’d barked back at you that he was fine, so you hadn’t asked again. 

Watching him pace around was making you even more anxious than you already were. So you focused all you could on getting yourself ready. You’d asked Ransom earlier if his family dressed for dinner and he’d just grunted in response. But it felt like a no, so you wore one of your favorite day dresses. It was your favorite color. You hoped it would give you confidence. You did your hair. You put diamond studs in your ears, with a matching tennis bracelet on your wrist. Reasonable heels on your feet. A spritz of perfume on your pulse points. It was the best you could do without more information.

You stood in the middle of the bedroom once you were done. Ransom was still undressed, still moving. “Uh,” you ventured, hesitantly, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. “Will we have enough time to get there?”

“Who gives a shit?” he growled, thundering back into his closet. A few moments later he came back out, wearing dress slacks and a cream cable-knit sweater. There were holes in it. You could see them clearly from the other side of the room. 

“Ransom,” you said softly, oddly feeling like you were speaking to a spooked animal, “don’t you think that sweater’s a little worn?”

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” he rasped. “Let’s go.” Then he was out of the room and halfway down the stairs, with you scrambling to keep up behind him. 

The drive to Harlan’s country estate was mostly silent. You’d tried to turn on the radio at one point, but Ransom just turned it right back off. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly, his hands were bright red. You wondered if he was hurting himself. You didn’t know why he was so stressed. You were the one about to walk into the lion’s den, the one who had no idea what was waiting for you. It was his family. He’d be fine. You had no idea if you would be. You rested your hands in your lap, clutching them, and settled into the silence.

You knew that Harlan lived quite a ways out of town, but you still got to his home much too quickly. The large mansion loomed over you as Ransom parked his car amongst the others in the drive. He turned off the ignition and then just sat there, staring ahead. Just as you were about to call his name, he slapped the steering wheel harshly with one hand then growled “Let’s go!” to you and got out of the car. Once again, you scrambled after him, but this time, he slowed, slightly, to let you catch up. Once you had, he put a firm hand on the small of your back and ushered you up the path and into the house. You didn’t have time to react to that or try to figure out what on earth he was doing before you were greeted by a woman Ransom snidely called Franny. She responded with a very curt “Hugh” of her own then introduced herself to you as the housekeeper. She took your coats, and then Ransom’s hand was back on you, guiding you into a sitting room.

The entire family was already there, most with drinks in hand, and they all turned to watch you enter. You felt pinned by their gazes. “Well!” Ransom’s uncle Walt called out. “Look who finally decided to show. And just in time for the food, of course!” 

Ransom stiffened slightly beside you then smirked. “Well, thank god we’re in time for your fifth drink, Walt. Who’d want to miss that?”

Walt scowled as he got up from his seat, then lumbered across the room, knocking his shoulder into Ransom’s as he passed and jostling you in the process. You started to sway a little, and Ransom’s hand immediately came to your hip to try to steady you. Your gaze flitted down to it, but just as quickly it was gone.

Everyone else began to get up and make their way out of the room. Meg, at least, gave you a small smile and wave, but otherwise, you were mostly ignored. That was, at least, until there were only three people left, Ransom’s parents and Harlan. 

Harlan immediately hugged you. “It’s wonderful to see you, my dear. You look so lovely.” He took a step back to look at you both. “I trust you’re taking good care of each other. This is one of the most important times in your marriage. I hope you’re cherishing it.” 

“Sure Grandad,” Ransom snarked, “we’re loving being married to a complete stranger.”

“Ah, now, you’ll only remain strangers if you let that happen.”

You saw Ransom about to open his mouth to say something else, so you jumped in with a quiet, “Thank you, Harlan, we really appreciate that.”

Harlan smiled at you, big and genuine, and then clapped Ransom on the shoulder. “See, my boy,” he said. “I knew she was exactly what you needed!” 

Ransom’s jaw ticked but he didn’t say anything. You didn’t know how to respond either. Harlan’s kindness had a way of making you feel invisible. 

Linda stepped up to you all then. “Darling,” she said, her tone dripping friendliness in a way that made you brace for impact. “I see not even your positive influence can make my son be on time. How disappointing.” She added a little chuckle onto the end, but you took it as the reprimand it was meant to be. You pasted on your most benign smile, but as always, she made you feel about a foot tall. You had no idea how anyone thought you were supposed to make this man do anything. Like he cared about what you thought or wanted. Like you had any power at all. 

“Is that why you married me off, mother?” Ransom asked, matching her friendly tone, but when you looked up at him, his eyes were hard. “So there’d be someone to handle me?”

“Well,” she said, a placid smile on her face to match your own, “someone has to. Lord knows you haven’t listened to me in years.”

“And yet,” Ransom said, his tone dropping all friendliness, “you still got me here, didn’t you?” 

The look on his face startled you. You’d never seen him this angry. Without thinking, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around his wrist. At your touch, his eyes snapped to yours. You weren’t sure exactly what he found there, you felt lost enough that you couldn’t imagine your expression was much help, but after staring at you for what felt like an age, he gave you the smallest nod and relaxed his posture. 

“We don’t want dinner to get cold,” Harlan called from the doorway.

Linda straightened, finally ending the standoff with her son. “Yes, of course,” she said. Then she looked at you, really looked, her eyes traveling up and down your body, taking in all of you and everything you were wearing. She quirked her eyebrow at you and let out a distinctly judgemental little hum. Then that friendly smile was back and she turned away from you. “Oh, Dad, there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” she said as they both left the room.

You stared after her. You didn’t know what you’d done wrong. You’d looked at everyone when you’d arrived and confirmed that you weren’t under or overdressed. She herself was wearing a simple but smart pantsuit. Your clothes were nice, clean, and pressed. You were put together. What could her problem possibly be? You tried to breathe but you could still feel her looking at you and your chest was so tight.

You were brought back to the present by Richard wrapping you in a hug. His lips brushed your cheek as he said, “So nice to see you again, honey.” Then one of his hands on your back traveled lower until it grazed the top of your ass. You couldn’t help the way you jumped.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Dad?” Ransom shouted next to you. “I’m standing right here!”

Richard pulled away and you took a deep breath at being free of him. What the hell had just happened?

“What?” Richard rounded on his son. “I can’t greet my daughter-in-law? You’re so sensitive, Ransom. A little attention is flattering, isn’t it, honey?” 

They were both staring at you. You knew you needed to say something but all you could do in your shock was gape at them. 

Ransom wrapped one arm around your waist to pull you close to him. “You’re a fucking creep,” he growled.

Richard just scowled and made his way to the hall. “Disrepectful little shit,” he muttered as he left the room.

It wasn’t until his father was completely gone that Ransom dropped his arm from around you. He looked you right in the eye, his face so serious, as he asked, “Are you ok?” And there was something in his tone, fear maybe, that startled you just as much as Richard’s hand.

“I’m fine,” you nodded, your voice shaking only the slightest bit. When he still didn’t release you from his gaze, you brushed your fingers over his arm. “I’m alright.”

Finally, he nodded but didn’t really relax. “He’s–” he began, but cut himself off. “Just, watch out for him.”

“Ok,” you said, trying to sound strong. Reassuring. Ransom still just stood there. “Are– are you alright?” 

That seemed to bring him out of wherever he’d been. “What?” he asked, somewhat sharply. “Yeah, of course. Come on,” he said, turning to the doorway. “Let’s get this shitshow over with.”

Everyone else was already seated at the large dining room table when you came in. Ransom guided you over to the two empty chairs in the middle of one side and pulled yours out for you before seating himself. The catering staff moved around the table setting down plates and pouring wine for everyone. But when the server got to you, they moved past you without pouring anything. In case you were pregnant. Of course. That was fine. You just hoped no one else noticed.

“I’m sorry,” Ransom said from beside you and your stomach dropped. “Is there a reason my wife isn’t being served wine tonight?” 

“Ransom,” you whispered, still hoping everyone would just ignore it, but it was too late.

From the other side of the table, Walt piped up liked he’d just been waiting for an opportunity. “Maybe the staff got confused and didn’t realize she’s old enough to drink.” His eyes sparkled and he grinned, proud of himself, as it took every muscle in your body not to shrink down in your seat. 

“Great catch, Walt! You’re right. She is still much younger than me. Like I said before, and I’m sure I’ll have to say again, neither of us chose this. I would’ve thought that’d be a concept you’re familiar with, seeing as how you practically begged Harlan not to make you marry Donna.”

“Ransom!” you admonished quietly. Your eyes cut to the willowy blonde sitting next to Walt, looking like a deer caught in headlights. You had no doubt that he deserved this, but you had no idea if she did. 

Ransom’s eyes cut to you. “You’re right,” he said, before looking back at his aunt and uncle. “I should be nicer to Donna. I’m sure being married to Walt is punishment enough.”

“You little shit!” Walt responded. “I’ll have you know my wife is very happy. Which I’m sure is more than you can say for yours! What’s it been, a month? Two? And she already looks completely miserable.” 

You felt all eyes turn to you again and you weren’t sure you’d ever felt more self-conscious in your life. Your entire body was on fire. You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t say anything, so you picked up your fork and took a bite of the fish you’d just been served. It didn’t taste like anything.

From your left, Joanie spoke up. “Hey, those first few months of marriage are hard. But so rewarding. I know when Neal and I were first married–”

“Yes, Joanie,” Linda cut in, dryly. “My brother was a saint and we all miss him very much.” She turned back to her son. “There’s no need to get upset, Ransom. We just didn’t want to accidentally serve a pregnant woman alcohol. Better safe than sorry.” She picked up her own fork to begin eating. “Speaking of, if the two of you have an announcement to make, now’d be the perfect time.”

You couldn’t stop your grimace. Ransom stiffened next to you, then answered, “No. No announcement.”

“It’ll come,” Harlan finally joined in from his place at the head of the table. “There’s still plenty of time.”

From the other end of the table, a teenage boy you’d never even met before said, “Maybe not. Maybe she’s barren.” And you felt all the wind go out of you.

“Oh fuck off, you little incel shit!” Ransom shouted.

“She isn’t barren, Jacob,” Linda said, calmly. “We have all her medical records to confirm she’s perfectly fertile.”

You could’ve sworn you blacked out at the moment. You’d known, on some level, that if there was a clause in the contract, it’d come with some sort of confirmation that, at least on your side, it was even possible. But to know that they had your medical records and now were discussing them like you weren’t even here, like you just didn’t matter… You hoped the earth might open up and swallow you whole.

You felt a gentle hand land on your knee but it didn’t really register. Nothing did. You didn’t know where the conversation went from there. You couldn’t hear anything above the ringing in your ears. It was all you could do to keep breathing. But you knew they all kept sniping at each other. And you felt the anger radiating off of Ransom the entire time. 

The clinking of plates and scraping of chairs finally got you out of your stupor as the family got out of their chairs and staff started clearing the dishes. You looked over at Ransom, for help or support maybe, you didn’t really know. But he also looked like he’d gone somewhere else. He could barely meet your gaze.

You were still numb as people made their way back to the original sitting room. You just needed to make it through the rest of the evening. You could do that. Just as you had gotten to the other room, Harlan stopped Ransom with a hand on his shoulder. “I’d like a word in private with you, my boy.”

Ransom looked at you for a moment, then sighed and said softly, “I’ll be right back,” before following his grandfather deeper into the house.

And then you were alone. You were at a loss as to what to do with yourself, so you went back into the sitting room and settled on a vacant couch. Not everyone had migrated there.  There were only a few people in the room now. Jacob sat in the corner, hunched over his phone, but every once in a while he would look up, catch your eye, and smirk at you. It had you sliding further back in your seat. His mother was no help. Donna was slumped over in an armchair, still cradling half a glass of wine. Meg had already shrugged on her coat, giving a hurried wave as she moved through the room. And Richard–

Richard sat down next to you. You slid down the couch as subtly as you could. “You know,” he said, “I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to you at the wedding.”

Alarm bells went off through your whole body. You saw Ransom’s face again, from earlier. How angry, yes, but more than that ashamed and unsurprised. How he’d looked at you. How he’d asked if you were ok. How it’d felt urgent. “It was a busy day,” you gritted out, trying to think of any way to get yourself out of this room.

“Ransom is a very lucky man,” he said, inching closer, his arm draped over the back of the couch, “to have such a beautiful bride.”

“Thank you,” you chuckled uncomfortably. “That’s very sweet.” You looked around helplessly. As he opened his mouth to say something else, you stood up. “I’m going to go get myself some water. Do you need anything?” you asked, but didn’t give him a chance to answer. “No? Ok, I’ll be right back.” And then you fled.

You hurried down the hall toward the kitchen but slowed when you heard voices. You picked out Joanie first, then Linda. You slowed to a stop right outside the kitchen door, trying to weigh just how much you wanted that water. Was it worth facing them? Were they any better than Richard?

“Okay,” Joanie said, “but what do you really think about her?” Your stomach dropped. You tried to reassure yourself that they could be talking about anything, anyone. You pressed closer to the door as quietly as you could.

“I think,” Linda said, then paused while you heard the clink of glassware, “that she will serve her purpose just fine.”

Joanie laughed. “I just have a hard time picturing Ransom with such a mouse.” You closed your eyes. You should go right now. Nothing they had to say would be of any help to you. But, despite your best interests, you were rooted to the spot.

“She definitely wasn’t chosen for her personality, but Ransom understands how good this will be for the whole family. How important it is”

“Oh, of course,” Joanie simpered, and you just hated both of these women so much at that moment, maybe more than you’d ever hated anyone. “I just feel so bad for him. He must be so bored.”

“Listen, I told him that he just needs to get her pregnant, and then he can do whatever he needs to do. Once he has an heir. As long as he’s discreet, of course.”  

Joanie cackled. “You didn’t! Oh, you’re so bad!”

“He might already be behind on that one, anyway,” Linda said, and you could practically hear her smirk. But you didn’t know what she could possibly be talking about. She didn’t know you and there was no one– unless. Oh god.

“Well.” Linda continued. “You know, she and her step-brother are very close, if you know what I mean.”

“Really?” Joanie asked, fucking eagerly.

“Mhmm,” Linda hummed. “Did you not see them at the wedding? They were practically hanging all over each other. He had to be kicked out of her dressing room.”

“No! Does Ransom know?”

“Well, I haven’t told him yet. You know how he gets. I’m waiting for the right time.”

“You know what they call that on the internet, don’t you?”

Linda sighed. “You know that I don’t, Joanie.”

“Stepcest!” Joanie said gleefully.

And that was it. That was all you could do. This fucking family. How– Why? You’d never done anything. You hadn’t even chosen to be here! And they still took so much joy in cutting you down. And if Linda managed to get to Ransom and tell him… Who knows what he’d do?

You moved as quietly as you could back down the hall, swiping at the tears beginning to gather in your eyes, hoping not to call any attention to yourself, when shouts suddenly erupted from the other side of the house. As soon as you recognized one of the raised voices as Ransom’s, you began to hurry in that direction. 

You hadn’t made it very far before he came barreling out in your direction. “Get your coat,” he growled. “We’re leaving.”

You didn’t argue, more than ready to get out of there yourself. You followed him to the closet, and then once you both had your coats, out the door. The crisp night air was bracing after feeling suffocated in that house for hours. Neither of you said anything as you got into Ransom’s car.

It wasn’t until you were fully off Harlan’s property that you felt brave enough to ask, “Is everything alright?”

He glanced at you before returning his eyes to the road and letting out a humorless chuckle. “Sure,” he said.

“What– What did he want to talk to you about?”

“Just his same old bullshit,” he scoffed.

“I–” you had no idea what to say. “Is it always like that?” You felt foolish as soon as you asked. Of course, it was. You could tell.

“Oh, no,” he said, and his tone was so cold, so detached, that you couldn’t help but stare. This felt like a brand new Ransom. “Sometimes it’s really bad.”

You didn’t say anything to that. You had no idea what to do with this sudden urge to comfort him, this man who had so much power over you, this man you couldn’t even say you liked most days. Especially after what you’d just been through. So you kept your hands in your lap and stared out the window.

After a few minutes of silence, he surprised you by being the one to break it. “So. I bet your family looks like the fucking Waltons compared to that.”

You thought of dinner with your own family. Joseph crowing loudly about his successes. Your mother cowering the moment any small thing went wrong. Steve getting into screaming matches with his father. You feeling invisible, on a good day. “No,” you said, hollowly. “Not really.” He turned his head sharply to look at you and you held his gaze for just a moment before he had to look back at the road. There was one large difference though. You’d always had Steve. As far as you could tell, Ransom didn’t have anyone.

That thought led you back to what you’d heard right before you’d left and your anxiety returned. “Steve and I–” you blurted out. “He’s my brother.”

Ransom’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Uh, yeah, I am aware of that.”

You shook your head. “No, I just– I know we aren’t related biologically, but– Nothing’s ever happened between us. Not ever. He’s my brother.”

“What the fuck?!” he called out as he made a left turn more sharply than necessary. “Why would you–” he cut himself off. “Did someone say something to you?”

You ignored his question. “I just–” you said, “I just wanted you to hear it from me.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. Neither of you said anything else for the rest of the drive.

When you got back to his house, Ransom went straight upstairs while you let Lola out one last time before bed. When you joined him in the bedroom once that was done, he was already in bed. “Listen,” he said softly, “I know you’re probably even more anxious about this whole thing after– I just, I’m really fucking tired. Is it ok if we don’t– If we just go to bed?”

You nodded, relief flooding through you. You were just as tired and didn’t think you could deal with all that after everything else that had happened that day. You quickly went through your nighttime routine in the bathroom. When you came back out once you’d finished, you found Ransom still awake, lying on his back staring at the ceiling. Lola was curled up at his side and he absently scratched her belly. You climbed into bed and turned the lamp off, turning onto your side. You felt him move behind you, scooting closer, not enough that you were touching at all, but you could feel his body heat. It was oddly soothing. You closed your eyes and hoped sleep would come fast, ready for this day to be over.

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[atydblack]

"demure" part 2

best friends dad! james x reader

masterlist (requests open!!!)

PART 1

glad u guys liked part 1 because i can not stop thinking about this version of james .

warnings: age gap, cheating, rough sex (not too much smut in this one tho soz), jamie is kinda a dick, everyone is of age!!!

MDNI

---

It had been 3 days.

3 whole days since the night you spent with James and he hadn't spoken one word to you.

In the grand scheme of things, 3 days isn't too long. But when those 3 days are spent longing after someone who is pretending you don't exist it is.

You were frustrated in every sense of the word, and with just over a week until you go back to Hogwarts - you were becoming desperate.

Every one was floating in between the kitchen and living room. It was rare that there was ever a quiet moment at the Potter's which made it even more difficult to find James alone.

You sat with your head resting lightly on Ron's shoulder whilst him and Hermione chatted about something you couldn't even focus on, your mind a million miles away.

Surprisingly, you had barely felt any guilt towards your actions a few nights prior. Every time you felt a bit bad about what you'd done, Ron would piss you off and it all made sense again.

You had even tried to somewhat recreate the incident with Ron, actually trying it on with him every single night but he would just make fun of you or would already be asleep before you'd even had the chance to touch him.

"Y/N?" Ron pushed you off his shoulder. "I said, are you okay?"

"Yeah," you half heartedly smiled. "I'm just gonna grab some water."

"I can get it for you-"

"No, it's fine."

You stood to your feet and wandered through to the kitchen and there he stood.

James was leaning against the kitchen counter, a mirrored image of how he was stood just a few nights ago.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

A white shirt hung from his body as he had just gotten back from his job at the ministry under an hour ago. A half empty glass of red wine sat in his hand as he spoke intently to Remus.

When he noticed you enter, he stopped talking and his jaw tightened.

He had been on your mind 24/7. The way his hands felt on you, the way he spoke softly into your ear, the way he made you feel.

It was constant, you couldn't think of anything other than James.

James broke eye contact after a brief moment. He muttered something inaudible to Remus before quickly walking past you.

James' heavy footsteps echoed through the house as he almost stormed up the stairs.

Remus nodded his head at you. You couldn't tell wether he was indicating for you to follow him or if it was just a simple greeting.

You didn't care either way, you were bored of being ignored.

Turning swiftly, you padded quietly up the stairs after James.

You were unsure of what exactly you were going to say to him, but something was better than nothing.

The house was huge and you weren't exactly sure which room he had gone into.

You decided on his bedroom.

You slowly opened the big oak door before entering quietly.

He wasn't in there, but it still caught your attention.

A strange feeling overwhelmed you as you took in the detail of the room James shared with his wife.

Jealousy? Guilt? You couldn't quite put your finger on it.

Everything was perfectly clean. On one bedside table sat a picture from their wedding day and the other was a picture of Harry.

Chewing your cheek out of anxiety, you stepped closer to the one of James and Lilly's wedding.

You had always been under the impression that they were so in love, so happy. Yet James had done this.

It almost felt like you had dreamt it all.

The door to the bedroom opened, making you jump.

You turned around to see James stood there with an angry look on his face.

"What are you doing?" James grumbled, stepping forward.

"I-I don't know." You muttered, your cheeks growing red.

"You can't do this, Y/N." He demanded, almost like he was telling you off. "I- What happened between us... it can't happen again."

He was frustrated, breathing heavy with his eyebrows furrowed.

You stood there twiddling your thumbs, unsure of what to reply.

"I fucking mean it-" James began pacing back and forth. "Shit, I could get in so much trouble for this, Y/N, you don't understand."

A ball of anger was whirling up inside you uncontrollably at his words.

A little voice inside your head telling you that he used you, he regrets you, he's embarrassed of you.

"You can't just ignore me!" You spat out. "I'm not just someone you can touch like that and then pretend doesn't exist!"

"I don't have a fucking option, Y/N." He came closer to you. "What did you think was going to happen? This can't be anything."

"What did you think was going to happen, James?" You bit back, sick of him talking down to you.

He was taken aback at your words, veins almost popping out of his forehead as he looked as if he was at war with himself.

"Fuck!" He spat, turning his back to you.

You weren't scared of him, he couldn't just use you and act like it never happened.

"You need to stop fucking doing this to me, Y/N." James muttered.

"I-I'm not doing anything!" You expressed, "I just want you to-"

Before you had the chance to finish your sentence, you were pressed up against the wall with his mouth on yours.

It happened all to quickly.

He lifted you up, legs wrapped around him.

James connected his tongue with yours, hands travelling all over you.

"I can't stop fucking thinking about you, Y/N." James muttered against your lips.

You could feel his hard cock pressing into you through his trousers as he pushed himself closer to you.

"Your sweet little moans,"

He pushed your dress up to your waist, hands travelling underneath to your breasts.

"Your tight little pussy,"

You let out a gasp as his cold hands brushed over your nipples.

"You think I haven't always noticed the way you look at me?"

In a swift movement he had you pressed up against the wall, ready to take you from behind. Your dress pushed up to your waist and his trousers around his ankles.

"Not so fucking innocent around you, Y/N?"

You must be dreaming. You must have dreamt this whole thing. There was no way your fantasy was unravelling in front of you.

"Do you want this, baby?"

You nodded with no hesitation.

"Words, kitten."

"Yes, James." You groaned. "I want you."

"Good girl." He muttered as he pushed his cock into you.

You gasped, he was much bigger than you'd ever had before.

It took a second for you to adjust but soon he was thrusting into you.

James couldn't contain himself, fucking you relentlessly as you moaned his name over and over.

"Have you been thinking about this, baby?" James groaned, choking you from behind. "I bet you have."

He was like an animal with stamina you didn't know existed.

"You gonna cum for me, sweet girl?"

You couldn't muster any words in response, just a loud moan harmonising with the clapping of him pounding into you.

It wasn't long before you were riding out your high, another unexplainable feeling he'd given you for the second time.

You tightened around him, only causing him to quicken his pace.

"Fuck-" He choked out as you felt his warm cum between your legs, his thrusts slowing down.

You both stood there attempting to catch your breath.

"No matter how hard I try," James said after a short moment. "I can't get you off of my mind."

"Likewise." You muttered.

"Y/N?" You heard a voice from the hallway. It was Ron.

"Shit." You whispered. "You- You stay here."

You quickly tried to fix your hair, pulling your dress down and trying your hardest to act like you didn't have James cum dripping into your panties.

You walked out to the hallway and smiled at Ron.

"What were you doing in there?"

"Just snooping." You shrugged, grabbing his hand and quickly pulling him back downstairs.

-

part 3 will be up tomorrow!

[ohbo-ohno]

for ypur 1k game can i get a "lady of the house" + ghoap💋

1k game here - no more please!

you said lady so im assuming you meant ghoap x reader <3

2.5k of a kinda historical au ft. flirty stablehand johnny x kinda shy reader x very horny simon (cw for oral sex in a public place, though there's no audience except a few horses)

Your husband's staff seems to have no concept of propriety.

No, no, that's not fair to most of the servants. Your husband's stablehand has no concept of propriety.

You'd complain to Simon, but he's hardly around to find most days. While the two of you share a bedchamber, that's nearly the only time you see him. You're lucky to even share a meal with the man, these days. The housekeeper tells you he's holed up in his office more often than not, and that feels like a clear sign that he would rather not be bothered. You two aren't particularly close, so you're more than content to find other ways of amusing yourself.

You've spent most of your time since moving into the manor with your mare, a gift from husband on your wedding night. She's a lovely beast and you've found great joys on long rides with her, despite the persistent ache in your thighs recently.

But that stablehand... Johnny's too handsome for his own good and he knows it, more than willing to flirt with you even though his own master has a claim, and too skilled for you to really ignore.

You hate that you've become so endeared to him, but it's impossible to ignore his flirtatious remarks. You've been a bit starved for affection since your marriage, and Johnny really isn't bad company by any means.

In fact, as much as you know you shouldn't, you can't help but feel a bit excited as you venture down to the stables to go on your daily ride.

You're halfway there when you're joined by someone new, a large figure suddenly walking shoulder to shoulder with you. He nearly makes you jump out of you skin, but you calm a bit at the sight of your elusive husband.

"Oh!" You gasp, pressing a hand over your chest. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

He inclines his head a bit, wrapping one hand around your elbow as you continue to walk. "My apologies. I thought I might join you on your ride today."

You're not sure how he knew where you'd be, but you take the new company in stride. "I'd enjoy that."

You're silent for the rest of the walk, not entirely comfortable in this veritable stranger's presence quite yet. Your spouse is an intimidating man, and you've hardly spent any time with him, so there's very little comfort to be found in his presence. What little time you have spent together has been in the bedroom and well... if you think of that for too long you'll go red in the face.

"Ah, the lady of the house!" Johnny calls as you enter the stables, stepping away from your mare. "You're late, my lady."

You giggle a bit at his tease. "My apologies, Johnny, I didn't realize you were on a schedule."

His smile grows and he leans against the gate to one of the stalls. "I simply have certain expectations of you, my lady - you're quite the creature of habit."

"You two have gotten close, then?" Your husband asks, and you're swiftly reminded of his presence. Your face flames at how easily you'd shown your friendship with Johnny off in front of a man you're meant to marry.

"I'm sorry," you demure, glancing up at Simon and feeling relief when you find him looking merely curious, not angry. "Johnny's- Mr. MacTavish has been helping me learn to take care of the mare you gifted me, and we've... developed a bit of a friendship in our afternoons spent together."

Simon hums, nodding to himself as his eyes flick between you and the stablehand. The only sign that Johnny is even the slightest bit fazed is the way he straightens up from where he was leaning, back straight and shoulders rolled back.

"No disrespect meant, sir," he apologizes. "Your wife is a lovely creature, I couldn't resist getting to know her a bit better."

"Yes, she is quite enchanting," Simon says quietly, guiding you a bit closer to Johnny. "You're unmarried, aren't you Johnny?"

He nods, and the two of you share a slightly confused look.

"And do you have any prospects?"

Johnny clears his throat, a tinge of red lighting up his cheeks. "No, sir."

Simon hums again, his thumb stroking over the crook of your elbow.

"Have you been taking care of my wife in my absence, Johnny?"

Now he really does blush, and you feel the same heat race through your own face.

"Only..." he clears his throat again, shifting his weight. "Only in ways entirely appropriate, sir, I promise."

"Oh, I don't doubt that. You're a good worker, a good boy, I can tell."

You're not entirely sure what's going on. The tone of voice Simon has adopted is near salacious, a tone you recognize from the few times the two of you have preformed your marital duties together. The tone sets your heart racing, a slightly uncomfortable awareness settling over you.

"Thank- thank you, sir."

"Do you know how to properly take care of a woman?"

"Simon, I'm not sure-" you try to interrupt, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation seemed to be heading.

"Hush, darling, I'm only asking the boy a question. Well, Johnny?"

Poor Johnny's face is as red as a tomato, and you'd tease him if you weren't sure you looked the same.

"Well, sir, I've... I've never had a woman of my own to take care of, but I try my best."

"Oh I'm sure you do."

Simon's contemplative look is a little concerning, so you tug on his hand just a bit. "I'd like to ride today, Simon, if you're ready?"

"In a moment," he dismisses, giving you a soft pat on the shoulder with his free hand. "Would you like to learn how to take care of a woman, Johnny?"

"Simon," you hiss, sure that he's not implying what you think he is.

He looks down at you with an innocent if slightly confused face. "What, darling? The boy needs to learn at some point."

"Not-" you clear your throat, glancing at a very confused looking Johnny from the corner of your eye. "Simon, not here."

"Oh, come off it," he scoffs, a soft smile tilting up his lips. "Is that truly your only complaint? The location? My dear, no one will see us this far out but the trees and the horses. Well," he glances over to the stablehand. "And our Johnny, of course."

"I'm sure he's familiar with how to... take care of a woman."

"I'm not," Johnny blurts, then clamps his lips shut tightly together. His blush spreads down to his neck, and you worry the poor thing might just explode.

"See? So, Johnny, would you like to learn how to care for a woman? I'm sure my lovely wife would be more than happy to introduce you to the pleasures."

Your blush doesn't calm, but looking at Johnny... the idea isn't entirely off-putting.

Johnny's about as handsome as a man can be, and if Simon has no compunctions to sharing a bit of your pleasure... well, you've always been a bit of a glutton.

Johnny seems about as unbothered by the idea as you are.

"Really, sir? You'd let me... you'd let her teach me?"

Simon laughs a little, stepping closer to Johnny and turning you so you're shoulder to shoulder with him. "Oh, I'll be doing the teaching, boy. She's just out practice doll, yes?"

That makes your breath hitch, the idea of being just a thing between the two handsome men a bit more pleasing than it should be.

"Now," Simon says, gripping you suddenly by the waist and lifting without warning. He sets you onto a wooden table, then spreads your legs. "Women's clothing can be quite annoying to work around, but the end result is more than worth it. Hold your skirts for us, love, thattagirl."

You're silent as you take the layers of clothing from your husband, afraid that if you speak you'll simply burst into flames. Exposing yourself to a man like this is difficult enough in the dark of your bedchamber, it feels near impossible in front of Johnny and in broad daylight.

But you can feel the way your center grows slick, so you obey your husband.

"Now, Johnny, kneel here, in front of me."

Johnny nearly scrambles to where Simon gestures, almost throwing himself to his knees in front of you. He's left between your thighs and Simon's legs, your husband almost stradling his back.

Simon laughs a bit. "Eager, are we?"

"Yes- yes, sir." Johnny pants a bit, staring up at you from the floor. He can't seem to decide whether he'd like to look at your undergarments or your face, eyes flicking between the two.

"Good lad," Simon brushes a hand over the back of Johnny's head, palming it. "Now, you'll have to take off her undergarments before anything else."

You shift a little in your spot as Johnny reaches up tentatively, eyebrows slightly furrowed. His hands brush over your bottom half for several long seconds, and you start to shift a little more, near whining.

"Hurry now, Johnny, you'll drive the poor thing mad."

He adopts an almost determined expression, and a moment later you hear a rip and feel a breeze against your most sensitive parts.

"Johnny!" You scold, leaning far enough forward to glare down at the man.

He flinches a little, sinking away. "I'm sorry, my lady. I didn't know how else to get them off!"

"You never destroy a woman's clothing like that! You're not off to a very good start so far."

You regret the words a bit when Johnny's face drops, his lip poking out in a slight pout.

Simon laughs, shifting to rub a hand over your bared knee. "Let up on him, darling, he's inexperienced. Besides, it's rather easy to make up for a few ripped seams."

You glare lightly at Simon, just to make sure he knows you're unamused, then lean back to relax against the wall. "Well, then you'd better get started."

Johnny looks up at Simon, neck craning back. "How...?"

Another rough chuckle from your husband, and he shoves Johnny forward by the back of the head until his face is buried between your thighs.

"Oh!" You yelp.

"With your mouth, Johnny. Trust me, it's far easier to learn to use your tongue like this than it is to learn how a lady likes her apologies."

You shoot an unimpressed look up to Simon, but it quickly melts off your face when you feel Johnny's lips and nose press to your center. He doesn't really do anything, just sort of stays there.

You shift again, try to press forward.

"Lick her, Johnny," Simon explains, putting a bit more pressure on the back of the stablehand's head. A moment later, there's a tentative brush across your folds.

You jolt a bit at the first tough, then relax into the second. Johnny's clumsy but confident, and you spread your legs a bit wider so he can fully explore you.

"Lift your skirts a bit further, love, I can't see," Simon instructs, leaning over so he's hovering directly above Johnny. You obey, and your husband hums as the view.

"Do you see the little bud at the top there, Johnny? Focus in on that, it's what gives women pleasure."

Johnny's evidently a quick study, as he focuses his attentions onto your clitoris as soon as the instructions are out of Simon's mouth. "Oh!" You gasp, back shooting up from the wall.

It takes him several long minutes to figure out what keeps you moaning in pleasure rather than whining in frustration, but once he does he keeps his tongue stroking in just the right way to make you go boneless.

"Attaboy, there you go," Ghost praises, stroking over the stripe of hair on Johnny's head. "Hear her moanin'? That means you're making' her feel good, so keep going."

He's a good listener, Johnny, and you're nearly brought to a peak with just his tongue alone.

"Add a finger now," Simon says.

Johnny pulls back just far enough for you to see his confusion. "A finger, sir?"

Simon huffs out a laugh, reaching down to grab Johnny's right wrist and pull it to your bared core. "Yes, Johnny, a finger. You put one or two into her hole to stretch her out enough to take you. Now, you won't be fucking my wife today, but the stretch will still feel good for her."

The way he talks about you like you're not even there combined with the sudden slow stretch of Johnny's fingers has you moaning. If you were even slightly more aware of anything but the two men in front of you, you'd worry about being heard. As it is, the attention returning to your clit keeps you suitably distracted.

Simon scoffs in front of you, tugging Johnny's hair a bit in reprimand. "You have to move the finger, boy, you can't just set it in there and do nothing. C'mon, push it in and out a bit."

"Yes, sir," Johnny pants, glancing up at you past all the skirts. "Sorry, my lady."

"That's- that's alright," you excuse, trying to keep your voice steady. Judging by the smirk on your husband's face, you're not particularly successful.

You let yourself float off in the pleasure for a bit, smiling gently at the cautious movements of Johnny's finger - he almost seems scared to hurt you, and you can't help but be endeared to the stablehand all over again.

"Look at that," Simon sighs, his hand moving further up on your thigh. "Hear how wet she is? Means she's ready for another finger. Go on, Johnny. Stretch her out some more."

The two fingers are enough to get you off - all that attention focused right on your clit and just enough of a stretch for you to feel. You come with quiet moans, shifting your hips forward into Johnny's lips as much as you can.

He doesn't slow or change his motions at all, and you ride the orgasm to completion happily. After, though, you can't help but whine at the overstiumlation.

"Alright, pull off now, Johnny. You hear those noises? Those mean she doesn't feel good anymore."

Johnny almost jerks away from you, glancing up at you with wide eyes. "I'm sorry, my lady," he quickly apologizes, rising up on his knees to get closer as you drop your skirts. "I didn't meant to hurt you."

You smile softly at him, reaching down to cup his cheek. "You didn't, Johnny, it's alright. Just a bit too much."

He nods as he leans into your hold, and the three of you rest in silence for a few moments.

Eventually Simon tugs you off of the table, pulling both you and Johnny into his arms for a half-hug. It's nice - your husband isn't too much of a fan of physical contact, so you relish in it when you can.

Johnny coughs a bit with a blush when you all three finally seperate. "So... when's my next lesson?"

You smirk as you loop arms with Simon, both of you sharing an amused glance.

"Come to our chambers anytime, Johnny," you offer, patting him on the chest before stepping away. "I'm sure my husband wouldn't mind giving a longer demonstration on how to fully pleasure a woman."

You leave a red-faced Johnny in the stables with tented pants, both you and Simon chuckling to yourselves as you head back to the manor.

[callme-whatyoulike]

All I Need to Hear

this picture isn't entirely relevant to the story. but it's how i imagined him looking in this one. also, here's some songs that i imagine would be playing during this. one of my favorite "genres" of music is slow love songs to dance in the kitchen to. all i need to hear is one of those songs. it should be played at a wedding. anyway. just a little fluff piece. i like it very much. enjoy ♡♡

"I'm home!"

I look at the clock. 9:37. Another late evening at the studio. I'd grown used to this, of course, but late evenings weren't particularly enjoyable when I felt like utter crap. I woke up this morning with a headache and a sore throat, but the symptoms have since escalated. It's taken everything I've had not to just go to bed. But we're busy tomorrow, and things need done around the house.

It would have all just been a bit easier with Matty here. But I didn't tell him that. He would have come straight home, and even though he tells me that I'm never a bother, I didn't want to inconvenience him.

But he's here now. I'm just starting the dishes as I hear him walk through the door. He finds his way to the kitchen, setting his things onto the counter.

"I'm so sorry, darling," he says, pressing a quick kiss onto the top of my head. "I didn't expect to stay that long."

"S'alright," I reply.

"Will you ever forgive me?"

"I'll consider it." He smirks at me.

"Need help?" he asks, glancing at the soapy water and unclean pots and plates.

"No, that's okay. You go shower, I'll get these finished in no time."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

He hesitates. Kisses me on the temple. Heads to the bathroom. It's just dishes. I can rest afterward. Although there are boxes to unpack in the office, still. I should get that done at some point. Perhaps that's where all of our spoons have gone.

As I ponder the whereabouts of our silverware, hum along to whatever songs are shuffling on my playlist, and scrub pans that have sat on the counter since yesterday's lunch, Matty quickly showers, dresses, and makes his way back to the kitchen, just as I'm draining the sink.

"Do you know where that gray shirt went?" he asks me, peeking into the entryway to see if there might be unopened boxes hiding away there.

"That's rather vague, dear." I do, somehow, know which one he's talking about, though. "But no, I've not seen it."

"Damn. Probably in whatever box the spoons are in." I hum in agreement. I turn and finally get a good look at him for the first time since this morning. He's dressed into his pajamas, his hair is a damp mess. No shirt, as our previous conversation just revealed. He looks tired.

I must look just as exhausted because his expression changes. It softens a bit once I finally look up at him. We don't have to tell each other it was a long day. We just know.

A good song is playing. Slow. One of our favorites. Good for dancing in a kitchen.

He opens his arms, and I fall right into them, wrapping mine around him. We sway ever so slightly, resting our heads on the other's shoulder. I have to stand on my toes a bit to do that. Matty very quietly hums to the song. And we stay like this for a while, even as the next song begins to play.

I answered the question that I knew Matty would eventually ask me: why didn't you tell me you were having a bad day?

"I didn't want to inconvenience you."

"Have you forgotten everything we've discussed?" he laughs.

"I know," I sigh. "But you were working. I know you would drop everything to be here if I said anything."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

I giggle. "Yes, Matthew. As much as we would both love it, we can't put everything else on hold just because we want to stay in bed together all day."

"Oh, I don't know." He kisses my cheek quickly, sways a little harder. "I don't think anyone would mind." He pulls his head back, looking down at me now. His lips crinkle into a smile. "I mean, look at you. I'm sure they'd understand."

"I look like hell, Matty." And I do. I haven't done anything with my hair since I showered this morning. My face is entirely makeup free. I've got sweatpants, a sports bra, and my favorite oversized cardigan and socks on. I'm not exactly a sight for sore eyes.

"You do not." Another kiss, this time on the forehead. "Never, darling."

"You have to say that."

"Maybe. But that doesn't make it any less true."

I roll my eyes at him and resort to resting my head against his chest now. Another song is playing now. Something about fooling around and falling in love. Seems fitting.

"I know I say it a lot," Matty starts, "but you can tell me about your bad days, okay?" His hand runs up and down my back. "I want you to bother me. I want to make room for you in my day, in my life, yeah?" He holds me a bit tighter. "Please, just bother me."

I nod. "Okay." I mean it. At least right now.

"D'you want to go to bed?"

"There's still boxes to unpack in the office."

"It can wait."

"Then absolutely."

"Good. Me, too."

[wooahaes]

i need an angel’s hand

pairing: non-idol!seungcheol x fem!reader

prompt: n/a

word count: 0.8k

warnings: depression. abandonment issues. vague mention of reader being in therapy. talks of a future (weddings, kids) that its implied/stated reader has talked about wanting before. reader feels broken bc of her baggage. reader also outright stated to have had a rough life but details left vague on what that was. its a vent fic, really. intentional lowercase + no proofreading.

daisy’s notes: written entirely on mobile in a google doc and then copied over. title from taemin’s “soldier” bc its on my depression playlist.

“talk to me. i’m right here, okay?”

the feeling of seungcheol’s arms around you made you muffle your already-silent crying (save for the sounds of broken breathing) with your hands. he’d been sleeping heavy, and the tears had come on too fast for you to climb out of bed and hide in the bathroom—usually hidden behind the sound of the shower running. you could excuse it as a late night shower most nights. yet you hadn’t noticed seungcheol stirring awake, the way he watched your shoulders jerk for a moment before immediately realizing what was going on. if you had, maybe you would have been more careful.

he ran his fingers down your arms. “honey?” he said quietly, the strain of sleep threaded into his voice. “please?”

truthfully, you wanted to be anywhere but your boyfriend’s apartment. you didn’t want to give him a reason to leave you.

“i’m here if you need to talk,” he said, forehead pressed against your back. “i mean it. i want to listen.”

you did, too, but talking was hard when most people grew bored. when people realized you carried a little (okay; a lot) more bullshit than the average person. everyone struggled with something, you were sure. but it felt like every hand you were dealt was laced with bad cards. occasionally luck was on your side (with your decent apartment; with getting a decent job; with seungcheol, too), but most days it felt like whoever was dealing the stupid fucking cards had a vendetta against you specifically. how were you supposed to seize the day or control your fate if it kept kicking your ass at every single turn?

“i saw a dog today in the park,” seungcheol said after a few minutes. he rubbed circles into your arms. “and a couple playing with their toddler during their picnic. i kept thinking… that would be us someday.” he pressed a kiss against your neck.

you snuggled slightly closer to him. seungcheol pulled you to his chest, chin resting on your shoulder as he leaned up just enough to hover slightly. just enough to ensure he was heard.

“we would have our intimate wedding in the winter, because you always wanted a winter wedding…” his fingers grazed your arms. “and a wedding dress with sleeves and lace…” he kissed your shoulder. “because you hate the way your bare arms look even though i think every part of you is beautiful.”

you shut your eyes, sighing out a quiet “cheol…”

“i want our rose pink kitchen. or sunshine yellow. you always get torn between colors, but we’ll figure it out,” he chuckled softly. “and to cook breakfast for you…”

“i’m okay.”

“you aren’t, but that’s okay. we’ll talk when you’re ready.” seungcheol kissed your cheek, lips lingering against your skin a little longer than you expected. “i want you to know i’m not going anywhere. i love you,” he gently squeezed you, “and that includes hard times like these. i choose to love you every day and i always will. i want to listen, but i know it’s hard.”

“you deserve—“

“you deserve someone who listens,” he said. “and i’ll listen. and so will doctor kim when you see him for your next appointment.”

you breathed in deep. “i’m just scared everyone will leave in the end—“

“anyone who chooses to leave you when you need them the most isn't someone who genuinely cares about you.” seungcheol sat up. “that includes me. if i ever leave you when you need me to stay, then you should leave me because you deserve better.”

you turned to face him with a frown “cheol, you don’t mean that—“

“i do.” he looked so serious, so grim. “we can’t always be there for everyone, but the people who truly love you won’t abandon you as soon as it gets rough.” he took your face into his hands. “and if they love you, they’ll be there when you need them the most unless they have a really good reason not to be.”

“it's not fair for me to ask people that.”

“you’d do it for them,” he countered. “you deserve that support, too.” he let go of you. “i can’t promise i’ll be there immediately every time you need me,” he took one of your hands, not meeting your eyes, “but i promise i’ll be here to catch you when you need me.”

you sniffled, and seungcheol did, too.

“ah—really…” he wiped at his eyes. “i’m not supposed to get emotional over this,” he lowered his voice, “not when i’m supposed to support you—“

you pulled him in tight instead, sobbing into his shirt. he held you tight, the feeling of hot wet tears dropping onto your skin giving away that he was crying, too.

“i love you,” he said again, his voice more strained this time. “and i’m going to fight for us, okay? let’s fight for us together.”

if it meant you could love and support seungcheol in exchange, you’d go to war.

[themirokai]

I'm posting the stories of my Mystrade spy series, His Professional Capacity, to tumblr in anticipation of posting the first new installment in three years.

The first three installments are here, here, and here.

But this is the one you actually need to read before the new one, because this is where I introduce my OCs.

When I was writing Spy Wedding (which isn't part of the series, but you may enjoy) I had this idea that Mycroft would have a soft spot for younger people who are brilliant but troubled, and when you took away all of the emotional family baggage with Sherlock, that could lead to some quite nice relationships. So, in this universe, Mycroft has work kids. One of them, who is introduced here and will be returning in the new story, ended up being incredibly popular with my readers. I hope you enjoy:

Protégé

Mycroft and Greg's date gets interrupted. Greg encounters one of Mycroft's protégés.

Tags: Action/Adventure, Assassins, Spies, Mycroft's job, BAMF Mycroft Holmes, Mycroft is a softie, Inappropriate flirting

~3,695 words, minor tweaks from the version on AO3.

Note: This takes place about 6 months after The Dangerous Parts and refers to events from that story, but that's not required reading. You just need to know that Mycroft is still recovering from a broken femur here.

Read it below or on AO3.

~*~

Mycroft had decided that Greg in summer was one of his favorite things to look at. The light dress shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing the strong forearms. The healthy glow of his skin, the way he held his highball glass, licked his fingers after he squeezed the lime wedge into his gin and tonic. 

Mycroft was enjoying the view at a small restaurant where he and Greg had placed their dinner orders. Their opportunities to go out to eat since Mycroft’s “car accident” nearly 6 months ago had been severely limited. First there was Mycroft’s reluctance to navigate any space besides his home and the office when he was still in the full leg cast, and then the brace, combined with the onslaught of issues to catch up on when he was back to work full time. But now he was walking fairly steadily with just a cane, the pain was tolerable compared to what it had been, and he and Anthea had managed to keep this evening and the upcoming weekend free. 

Greg finished describing a goal he had scored at the match his recreational football team had played the previous evening. Mycroft had encouraged him to return to the team several months ago, after Greg had given up the flat that he hadn’t been to in months and officially moved in with Mycroft. The exercise, the time spent with friendly acquaintances, the fresh air, and - most importantly - something out of the house that was just his, were all clearly good for Greg. “It sounds very exciting,” Mycroft replied to the story, “perhaps I shall come watch...” he trailed off. 

“Aw, it’s not really fit for spectators, darling, besides if you were there I’d spend all my time looking at you instead of playing.” 

But Mycroft’s attention had been taken by his driver entering the restaurant. Oh no. Greg must have observed his changed expression because he turned to follow Mycroft’s gaze. 

“Is that Lucy?” he asked. As Mycroft watched, the driver turned to look over her shoulder, and her jacket moved to give a glimpse of the gun from the car’s hidden compartment tucked into her waistband. Oh, this was bad. “Gregory,” he said quietly, “we may not be able to have dinner after all. … What is it, Simmons?” Mycroft asked, keeping his voice calm as the driver approached.

“I’m sorry, sir, but we’ve got to go,” Simmons replied. “Romer and Vaden clocked a couple suspicious blokes as you were coming in here and when they ran facial recognition it turns out they’re affiliated with-” her eyes slid sideways to Greg and she cleared her throat, “people who are not fans of yours, sir. Romer and Vaden went after them but lost them. Backup’s coming but we need to get you out of the open.” 

Mycroft grimaced. “I’m sorry, Gregory.” 

Greg was already on his feet and reaching for Mycroft. “None of that. Come on, let’s get you home.”  

“Office, I’m afraid,” Simmons said as Mycroft gathered the cane and let Greg help him to his feet. “A team will have to fully secure the house before you go back to it. Right now the top priority is getting you to safety, bringing those two in, and making sure they didn’t have more friends.” 

Mycroft winced a bit with his first step and kept hold of Greg’s arm as they moved off between the tables. 

“Got an extra gun, Lucy?” Greg asked Simmons quietly. “I’m not carrying.” 

“In the car,” she replied. “Under the back seat. Mr. Holmes can show you.” 

Greg positioned himself so that Mycroft was between him and Simmons as they reached the door. 

“Gregory,” Mycroft said, “you are the civilian in this situation, you don’t -“ 

Greg shook his head. “‘M not a civilian, darling, I’m an officer of the law and you’ve got a bum leg. Stay between me ‘n Lucy, alright?” 

“The car’s just at the kerb, sir. You and Lestrade get straight in while I go to the front.”

Mycroft took a breath and nodded. Simmons paused, looking around through the glass of the door, then pushed it open. 

Just as they stepped onto the pavement two figures came tumbling out of an alley ten feet away, struggling with each other. Mycroft caught a glimpse of a young face framed by shaggy brown hair and his heart sank. Romer. 

Simmons cursed and grabbed Mycroft’s arm, putting herself between him and the men. The unexpected motion made Mycroft stumble and he grabbed for Greg, who caught him easily. 

BANG! 

Oh god! “Romer!” 

BANG! BANG! 

Greg was shoving him bodily into the car, his previously injured thigh slamming painfully onto the seat and making him see stars. Then Greg was diving in after him and Simmons was in the front, peeling out with a screech of rubber. 

“Romer!” Mycroft gasped, “Is Romer alright? Was he shot?”

Greg was opening Mycroft’s jacket, running his hands over the waistcoat and his arms. “Are you alright, Myc? The fucker was shooting at you!”

“I’m - I’m fine. I wasn’t shot.” Greg continued feeling him all over. “Gregory,” he snapped. “I was not injured. I’m fine.”

Greg finally sat back, only to be knocked back onto Mycroft as Simmons took a sharp turn. They both righted themselves and put their seatbelts on. 

“Simmons, are you alright?” 

“Fine, sir!” 

“Are you on coms? Can you hear Romer?” 

“Yes, sir. I’m not sure what’s going on though. I think he’s fighting.” 

“Give me your earpiece, Simmons.” 

“Mycroft, let her drive,” Greg put in. 

“Simmons,” Mycroft said, ignoring his partner, “your earpiece. Now.” 

Without taking her eyes off the road Simmons ripped the com link out of her ear and tossed it in the back seat. Mycroft quickly wiped it on his pants then put it in his ear. He immediately heard panting breaths. “Romer … Peter, are you alright?”

“M-Mr. Holmes?” The thick Scottish accent was a balm to Mycroft’s soul. “Sir? That you? Ya weren’t shot were ya? I’m so sorry, Mr. Holmes, he never shoulda got that close.”

“It’s me, Peter, I’m fine, he missed. You’ve nothing to apologize for.”

The young man laughed and raised his voice. “Ya hear that you cocksucking motherfucking wanker?! Ya missed him ya mafia piece of shite!! Yeah what’re your Cossack big brother bosses gonna say to that ya fucker? Oh wait, you’ll never know cos you’ll spend the rest of your life rotting in a British prison. Oi!” A sharp intake of breath. 

“Peter!” Mycroft cried.

“S-sorry, sir. Bit of … bit of a knife fight going on here. Aaarrgh. I- uh- I may need some stitches, sir.” 

Before Mycroft could reply a female voice cut in. “This is Ahmad. I’m one minute out from Romer’s position. I have backup.”

Oh thank god. Mycroft kept his voice sharp. “I want to see you both in my office, in one piece, tonight. That is an order. Am I understood?” Both agents gave affirmative answers and Mycroft knew better than to listen to the subsequent fight. “Holmes out.” He removed the earpiece and handed it back to Simmons, then collapsed back into the seat, closing his eyes. 

Romer was injured. He’s a field agent, these things happen. Romer was injured protecting me. He was apprehending a foreign national who had committed assault and attempted murder. He was only in this situation because I recruited him. If I hadn’t recruited him he would probably be dead of an overdose by now or, best case, still living on the streets of Edinburgh. He volunteered for my security detail. … Ahmad is in jeopardy now too. Ahmad said she had backup. They are both skilled agents and together they can easily take down one thug, especially with backup. If it is just one thug. They have backup. 

The car stopped and Mycroft opened his eyes to see that they were in the underground parking structure of his office. Greg gave his hand a quick squeeze, then got out and came around to help him out of the car. Simmons was standing by the open driver side door. 

“Good work today and good driving, Simmons.” Mycroft squeezed her shoulder. 

“Thank you, sir. I’ll coordinate with the team securing the house and let Anthea know when it’s alright to leave.” 

“Thank you, Simmons.” 

Mycroft took Greg’s arm and proceeded into the building. “Damnit,” he muttered as they got onto the lift. 

“What is it?” Greg asked. 

“I didn't get a status on Vaden. I was so distracted by Romer.” Mycroft shook his head at himself in disgust. “I shouldn't have favorites,” he chided. 

“To be fair, the one you see grappling with a bad guy with a gun is pretty distracting,” Greg reasoned. “I’m sure you’ll be able to get a full update once we’re upstairs.” 

And in fact Anthea was waiting as soon as they exited the elevator. Though she was wearing a normal professional dress and blazer, her hair was up and she was wearing glasses, not contact lenses. Clearly she had gone home shortly after he had left for the day, only to be called back. Her gaze swept over him quickly and a flicker of relief showed on her face. 

“Sir. Glad you’re alright.” 

“Thank you, Anthea. Bring me up to speed please.” 

“Vaden and the team that went to back him up have already brought their target in. Romer, Ahmad, and their team should be back shortly with their target. Romer is injured. Ahmad thinks the doctor can handle it so I’ve asked the doctor to report here. A team is at your house now, securing it, but the preference is for you to stay here at least until we have a better sense whether the two that were caught were the only ones. Parnell is running point on that operation and will cover interrogating the targets. We’ll also need to reassign someone to cover Romer’s spot on your detail. Vaden should be fine to stick with you.” 

Mycroft felt his grip on Greg’s arm and the cane tighten as a wave of fatigue washed over him. He sighed. “Alright. It was the Solntsevskaya Bratva?” 

Anthea glanced at Greg. 

“His clearance is high enough now,” Mycroft said. 

“It is?” Greg’s voice lifted in surprise. 

“I had your clearance raised when you moved in with me,” Mycroft explained. “In the event something like this happened.” 

“We believe it’s Solntsevskaya, sir,” Anthea said. “Both the assassins are affiliated with them.” 

Mycroft nodded. “You’ll keep me apprised of any updates, of course, and send Romer and Ahmad in as soon as they get here.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Mycroft and Greg entered the large, beautifully appointed office and Greg shut the door behind him. “You’re shaking, love.” 

Mycroft steered them over to the couch. “I’m tired. My leg hurts. And I know if Ahmad didn’t think Romer needed the hospital then he’ll be fine, but -” Mycroft grunted as he lowered himself down to the couch and started trying to massage away the pain in his thigh, “I just worry about him. He’s barely more than a child, Gregory.” 

“Can I get you a drink?” Greg asked. 

Mycroft nodded. “Please.” 

Greg headed over to the drinks cart. “Romer is one of your proteges?” 

“I recruited him. Off the street, no less.” 

Greg returned with two tumblers of Scotch, handed one to Mycroft and sat beside him. “How did that happen?” 

“Thank you.” Mycroft took a sip. “When he was sixteen Peter’s parents turned him out of their home upon finding him in the arms of another boy. He ended up living rough in Edinburgh, mostly picking pockets and shoplifting to survive. About five years ago, two of my field agents were conducting an operation there, when they realized this homeless teenager kept showing up everywhere they were. Thinking he was working for the other side, they pulled him in but it turned out that he just noticed them following someone so he decided to follow them. This half-starved, occasionally stoned, untrained boy was managing to tail experienced agents. When I arrived at the conclusion of the operation, they brought him to meet me, and I could see he was special. I arranged for him to finish secondary school and go to university. He completed university in two years and came to work here.” 

“You care about him,” Greg said quietly.

Mycroft nodded, taking another sip of Scotch. “Peter’s instinct for the work is incredible and he’s blazingly brilliant. He needs more training and we’re working on self-discipline, but he will be an invaluable agent some day.” He sighed. “And yes, I care about him. Very much.”

Greg moved a little closer and placed his hand on the back of Mycroft’s neck, starting to massage the tense muscles. Mycroft sighed and leaned into the touch. “Thank you.”

“Can I ask a question about… this evening?”

Mycroft chuckled without humor. “After I’ve put your life in danger and am keeping you from your home? Yes, I’d say you deserve some answers, Gregory.”

Greg frowned. “You didn’t put my life in danger, darling. Those assassins did.”

“You easily could have caught a stray bullet when I was being shot at. And now that you live with me and are seen in the open with me, there’s the possibility that someone will think to use you to get to me.” 

Greg took Mycroft’s hand in both of his own and gently kissed each finger. “I’ve known that was a possibility since our third date, darling. I don’t care. You’ve got a dangerous job. I’ve got a dangerous job. Life is short and could be even shorter for both of us. I love you. I want to be with you. Even if that means dodging bullets now and again.”

Mycroft caressed Greg’s cheek then leaned in to kiss him. The scotch on their breath mingled together with the scents of their colognes. When the kiss ended Mycroft rested his forehead against Greg’s. “I love you so much, Gregory.” 

“More than words can say, darling.” Greg planted a light kiss on Mycroft’s lips and sat back with a chuckle. “I still get a kick out of you referring to the house as my home.”

“It is your home, my love. As long as you’re willing to occasionally be kept from it by a security team sweeping it for hidden assassins.” 

“The smallest of prices to pay.” Greg sipped his drink. “Who did you say it was? Solo Sky Bravo something?”

Mycroft chuckled. “Solntsevskaya Bratva. A part of the Russian mafia.”

“Is my clearance now high enough to ask why Sol… part of the Russian mafia is trying to kill you?”

Mycroft was torn, briefly, between an innate impulse for modesty and the desire for Greg to have a clear view of the danger. “Some years ago I was responsible for shutting down their operation in the UK.” Mycroft leaned back into the couch, closing his eyes. “Destroyed rather a lot of their infrastructure.” A small smirk crossed his lips with the memory. “That they are sending people after me now may be because they want revenge, but it is more likely that they see me as an obstacle to rebuilding here.” 

Anthea’s voice came over the intercom. “Mr. Holmes, Ahmad and Romer are here, as is the doctor. May I send them in?”

Mycroft pushed the button beside him to respond. “Yes, Anthea, thank you.” He gathered the cane and used it to push himself to his feet with a grimace. 

The door opened and Ahmad and Romer staggered in, Romer’s arm over Ahmad’s shoulders and Ahmad’s arm wrapped around Romer’s back. Mycroft started forward, his breath hissing through his teeth. “Peter.”

Romer squinted at him through one eye, the other swollen shut. “Sir? You’re really alright? He really missed you?” 

Mycroft crossed the rest of the way to them and cupped the back of Romer’s head. “I’m fine, Peter. He could hardly get a clean shot with you on top of him. You weren’t so lucky, my boy.” 

“I’ll be fine, sir. Doctor’ll stitch me up in no time. Nothing to worry about. And he looks much worse.” Romer looked up at Mycroft, his good eye shining with earnest intensity as the words tumbled out of him in a rush. “Sir, I’m so sorry! My first week back on your detail and I let him get that close. It never should have happened, sir! We shouldn’t have lost them! Especially when you’re still recovering from-”

“Peter,” Mycroft cut him off quickly, “that’s enough. You and Vaden did everything right. You identified the threat, you gave me ample warning, I got to safety without being injured, and you brought the targets in. I’m only unhappy that you were injured in the process.” 

Romer looked down, a blush starting to show around the bruising on his face. “I’ll be alright, sir.” 

Mycroft turned to the woman still supporting Romer. “Ahmad? Were you hurt?”

“Nah, sir. I came in armed, unlike this idiot.” 

“He got my gun away from me!” Romer protested. “I got his away from him too, and I still had my knives!” 

Mycroft stepped back and gestured to the doctor waiting in the doorway. “Let’s get you seen to, Romer.” 

Ahmad transferred Romer’s weight to the doctor and stepped back. “Sir, I believe Parnell is going to start the interrogations soon. Alright for me to join him?” 

“Yes, Ahmad, thank you. Please tell Parnell that I will speak to both of our guests in the morning and I would like them in a condition that they will be able to hear and understand what I have to say.” 

Ahmad smirked. “Yes, sir.” She drew herself to attention for a moment and gave him a curt nod, then left. 

Mycroft stepped out of the way for the doctor to help Romer to the couch. As he moved, Romer was able to see Greg for the first time since entering. The young agent’s face immediately brightened. “Ah, Silver Fox is here! Hullo, Silver Fox!”

Greg gave a good natured chuckle. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Romer, instead of seeing you out the window or across the street.” 

Romer squeezed his eyes shut and groaned a little as the doctor helped him lower himself onto the couch. “You’re even better looking up close than you are through a lens, Silver Fox,” he said breathily. 

“Romer.” The warning in Mycroft’s voice was tempered by the smile he was barely managing to conceal. 

“Sir, it’s not my fault you’ve taken up with someone this gorgeous.” Romer grinned. 

“Remove your shirt, Mr. Romer, let’s look at that slice you’ve got,” the doctor instructed.

“Oh, gladly,” Romer flashed a wink at Greg. When the bloody shirt was removed, Romer was revealed to have a three inch cut across his pec, as well as a deep gash in his left side. 

“I’ll just bandage the one on your chest, but we’ll do a local anesthetic and stitches in your side,” the doctor said. 

“Can I have a nip of that whiskey while you’re working, doc?” 

The doctor nodded, and Mycroft, who was about to sit in an armchair across from Romer, started to turn. 

“Sit, love,” Greg ordered, heading to the drinks cart. “I’ve got it.” 

“Romer, you were favoring your right leg too,” Mycroft observed, as he pulled out his mobile and started reading a message from Parnell “are you cut there as well?”

“No, sir. He got a kick in at my kneecap. Just bruised is all.” 

Greg brought Romer a tumbler of scotch, and the young man made sure to touch his hand when taking it. “Thank you very much, Silver Fox,” Romer purred. 

Greg gave him a patient smile. “You’re welcome, and you’re not my type.” 

“Well, I’m not exactly looking my finest now am I? But once I get cleaned up…” 

Greg shook his head. “You’re too young for me, kid.”

“Doesn’t bother me. Didn’t Mr. Holmes tell you I have daddy issues?”

“Not interested,” Greg said with a glance at Mycroft, who was typing something on his mobile. “And taken.”

Romer hummed. “He’s not interested either,” he said with a nod at Mycroft. “Never has been, more’s the pity for me. But he’s very interested in you, and now I fully see why.”

“Romer, that’s enough,” Mycroft cut in as he pocketed his mobile again. “Stop flirting with my partner or you will find yourself with a permanent posting to Beijing.”

“Aw, sir, you know my Mandarin’s crap.” 

“I do know that, Romer. I suspect that after a few years we shall see your skill much improved.” 

While Romer kept up a stream of cheeky banter through being stitched and bandaged, he did lay off of Greg and even addressed him as “Inspector.” When the doctor was done, Anthea brought Romer a clean, unripped shirt and the young man gingerly put it on. 

“Alright Romer, go home. Rest,” Mycroft instructed. 

“Sir, I was just going to nip downstairs and watch Parnell.” 

“Absolutely not. Go home and sleep, Romer.” 

“Aw, but sir-“

“You are lucky that I’m not putting you at an analyst’s desk for the next month.” Mycroft’s tone brooked no argument. “If you do as you’re told tonight, you may observe my interviews with our guests tomorrow morning.” 

Romer’s face lit up. “In the room, sir?”

“No, over the feed.” 

Romer shrugged. “Still a Holmes interrogation. Brilliant.” 

Anthea entered at that point and Mycroft turned his attention to her. Romer took a few steps towards Greg. “Oi, Silver Fox.”

Greg raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Listen, we’ve got eyes all over the outside of the house but… keep a gun in the bedroom at night, yeah? Just in case? Mr. Holmes may already have one, but I can’t ask him.” Concern shone through every bit of Romer’s bruised face. 

Greg patted his shoulder. “Yeah kid, I’ve got it. Go get some rest. He’ll know in the morning if you haven’t.”

Romer’s cheeky grin returned. “Yeah, right. Nice to properly meet ya, Silver Fox.”

“You too, kid.”

“Romer,” Mycroft called, “what did I say about flirting?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir!” 

~*~

Thank you so much for reading! The last part (so far) of the series is up on tumblr now. It’s a direct follow up to this story, featuring Romer.

[softquietsteadylove]

Kingo is trying to make Gil jealous to see if he cares about Thena and uses some interesting methods.

For the fake wedding one!

"Please, Thena?"

She looked up at Kingo, "I don't understand why you need me for it."

"Because Makkari and Sersi both said no, and I have to send in this video of me by today!" Kingo pleaded with her, pressing his hands together and wobbling his lip.

"What about Ajak?"

"I don't wanna dance with my mom!" Kingo faked sobbing, although it still did nothing to move Thena in his favour, "plus, she's way too busy and I'm way too scared to ask her. I'm pretty sure she'll break out the chancla on me."

Thena had already seen what the threat of la chancla could do for keeping her children (plus Kingo) in line. The woman clearly had mastered her weapon of choice. Thena sighed, "it's just a video of you dancing?"

"Yes!" Kingo bounced with glee, "and I know all the steps and everything. All you have to do is sway and follow my lead--and look like you're in love with me!"

Thena rolled her eyes but stood from her patio chair, "I'll try."

"That's all I ask," he grinned at her, holding his hand out like a true gentleman. "There isn't any sound for it either, so I can talk you through things too."

She had no idea how these things worked for an actor of Kingo's level, but if he had to send in a video of himself dancing with no music, who was she to question it?

Besides, Gil was busy making croissants - or something - so it wasn't as if she had anything better to do with her time.

"Madame," Kingo schmoozed as he pulled her into position with him. His expression screamed a rich and entitled dandy, or whatever his character would be for this project. But it was definitely Kingo saying, "is it okay if I put my hand on your waist?"

Thena shrugged. She hadn't known Kingo for long, but there was something undeniably unthreatening about him, at least to her. Maybe it was the same warmth Gil and the rest of the family exuded. Or maybe it was the complete lack of physical interest he had in her. It was a refreshing break from most of the creeps at work back home.

Kingo began trotting them around in boxes within circles. He was surprisingly skilled with his dancing, leading her smoothly. "Hey, you're not so bad at this."

Thena wasn't convinced by the flattery, "don't be fooled, it's not as if I'm going to be able to do this on my own."

"Are you ready?" he asked more quietly, his face coming closer as their twirling slowed down to a gentle swaying from side to side. "For your first dance?"

Thena gulped, "I...suppose."

"Have you guys had lessons for it?" Kingo asked, the side of his head hovering close to the side of hers. "I heard some people do that."

If she had known about this more than a few weeks in advance, she might have considered it. "Gil said he didn't want to worry about stuff like that, and I'm inclined to agree."

"Well, you can consider this kinda like practice, right?" Kingo chuckled, his hand squeezing hers faintly.

"I suppose so," she murmured, not really thinking of Kingo as he swayed them to some imaginary beat. He was tall, maybe even a little taller than Gil. But he wasn't as warm, and his muscles were harder--more wiry. Gil's felt so natural on his frame, as if he had been born with them. Every time she felt them close to her, it was reassuring.

"I gotta admit," Kingo nearly whispered this part, bringing his head even closer to hers for it. "I was a little surprised when Gil told us about this shotgun wedding."

Thena held her breath.

"He's not really the impulsive type, and between you and me," he paused to snicker, "Ajak asked me if I thought he had, uh, knocked you up, as it were."

Honestly, it was a fair assumption on poor Ajak's part.

"But you guys seem really happy," Kingo concluded with a lighter tone. He pulled his head away so he could look at her as he said it, but they were so physically close her eyes blurred a little to really look at him. "I'm glad you found each other."

Thena turned her head, preferring to stare into/just barely over his shoulder rather than be nose to nose with her cousin-to-be. A breeze rushed around them and she felt the warmth in her cheeks. "I couldn't find anyone better than Gil."

Of all the lies she had told since arriving here with Gil, this was true.

"Okay," Kingo whispered, giving her waist a squeeze, "i have to dip you now. Have you ever done one?"

"No," she hissed at him, but he was already picking up speed and twirling her around again.

"It's okay, just relax and let me hold you as I lean you back," he continued to grin like that was so easily done. "Just trust me."

There was only one person in the world she trusted like that.

"Kingo, wait," she bit her lip, more nerves building up as Kingo spun her again. He wrapped his arm around the back of her shoulders, half lowering her down with her eyes squeezed shut like he was dangling her off a cliff.

"Kingo!"

"Oh, hey Gil," he smiled, still holding Thena in one arm and spreading the other for dramatic effect. "We-"

"Let go of her!"

Thena opened her eyes when a different set of hands grasped her shoulders. She was pulled up to stand properly again, and rather than Kingo's deep purple t-shirt, she was met with Gil's green sweater, and the scent of his aftershave.

"What the hell are you doing, man!" Gil barked at him, holding Thena to his chest as if Kingo had been about to feed her to the wolves.

"Sorry Gil, I needed help recording a dance for my next audition tape," Kingo laughed through his excuse, carefully avoiding the gravity Gil brought to the situation. "Thena was the only one free."

Gil's hand moved from Thena's shoulders to the small of her back, trailing down with a light touch, "you're doing stuff like this an awful lot, lately."

"Like what?" Kingo shrugged. If Gil wanted his answers, he was going to have to come out and say it.

"Gil," Thena interrupted before the two could really get their tempers up and flaring. She pressed her hand into the divet of chest between his pecs, "it's okay. He asked me to help, and I said I would."

Gil sighed, clearly wanting to stay angry at Kingo, even as she tried to talk him out of it. He was still holding her. "I know, Thena, but that's not-"

"It's good practice, right?"

Both men looked at her, shocked by her sudden outburst. Gil tilted his head at her, "practice for what?"

"Well," she sighed, feeling the warmth in her cheeks re-emerge. "We'll have to...right? After...the wedding?"

Gil blushed faintly, and she could see in real time as he realised that he too would be required to execute a very romantic first dance with her in front of the rest of his family. "Oh."

Thena nodded, her own embarrassment worsening as Gil's added to it. "So, I agreed because I figured I could take all the practice I could get."

"Uh, well," Gil floundered, looking between Thena, sheepish in the crook of his elbow, and Kingo, who had his arms crossed at him with a petulant expression. His anger fizzled out and he gave Kingo a miserable little look, "sorry."

"I should think so," Kingo turned his nose up, although they could both see him grinning, lavishing in the drama of the moment. He held up his hands as he moved to side step them. "Never mind old Kingo, just trying to help-"

Gil grasped Kingo's sleeve before he could move on completely. He looked him in the eye, still holding Thena in his other arm. "I know you don't mean anything by it. But...it's the woman I love, Kingo. I need to know you really understand that."

Thena stayed silent through the exchange between brothers. Gil said it in a very convincing way (and her stomach was still in knots).

Kingo looked at Gil, and then at the hand grasping at him. He removed his grip before bumping his knuckles against Gil's gently. "I do, man. I really do--I wouldn't do anything to get in the way of that."

Then what was all this?

Kingo continued into the house, completely unbothered by the little scuffle.

Gil looked at her again, frowning, "sorry. A-Are you--I didn't mean to..."

She smiled, though. Fake-fiance or not, everything Gil did was out of sweetness. At least with her, it was. She nodded, "it's okay, Gil. You know he doesn't mean any harm."

"I know," he sighed, looking like a puppy getting a scolding. She had to laugh, tipping his chin back up (but it didn't stop him from pouting). "I just...I feel like every time I've got a good thing going for me, Kingo swoops in and--he doesn't mean to. I know he doesn't, but let's just say that when we all went to camp together, the girls weren't really asking him to pass their numbers on to me."

"Aw, poor Gilgamesh," Thena pursed her lips at him. He did roll his eyes, but he was smiling again! "You were a diamond in the rough--just needed more time for people to see your brilliance."

He smiled as she un-rumpled his sweater from when he came out in a huff. He was still holding her. "So, dance practice?"

"Hm," she hummed, not really wanting to dwell on it any more than they already had. "I admit I was intrigued by the idea that he could help."

"Well," Gil said quietly, still holding her waist and now grasping her other hand in his, "I'm here now. And I'm the one you're gonna be dancing with, right?"

He was. Thena drew in a breath as Gil started moving them. It was a little less smooth than Kingo had been, clearly a basic step he had learned some time in their youth.

"I probably need some practice myself," he mumbled, some of his usual shyness returning as he moved her hand his side up his chest to his shoulder.

"I-" she cut herself off before she could say something stupid, looking away from his deep brown eyes to stare into his chest instead, "I didn't want to interrupt you."

"Interrupt me anytime, Thena," he corrected her immediately, swaying them a little more easily the longer they maintained their proximity. "Especially for something like this."

She leaned closer, loosening as if their shared body heat were melting frost at her joints. "You're not half bad at this."

"Well," Gil smiled against her cheek, "I better get half good before our wedding, huh?"

[teaberrii]

Chapter 9: Our Choices (Love Blues)

You're both running from a traumatic past. In a fated mix-up, you end up hosting this man for two weeks at your family-owned villa where sparks start to fly.

Alhaitham/You

Notes: Cross-posted on Ao3.

The chapter index is at the end of chapter one.

TW: Mentions of abortion and sexual assault.

He looks just as surprised to see you as you are him, and it doesn’t take long for Alhaitham to sense that the two of you are familiar with each other.

Your ex-brother-in-law smiles kindly at you. “Long time no see. Looks like you’ve been well.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You don’t sound hostile, but Alhaitham notices that you don’t sound happy, as the statement usually implies.

He turns to Alhaitham. “Are you two…?” That’s when you take your boyfriend’s hand.

Just then, a woman walks up beside him. “Your friends?” she asks.

As he introduces his wife to you and Alhaitham, all you can think about is how much you want to leave. You don’t have much against him, but time didn’t make you like him any better.

“So, are you two on vacation?” he asks.

“I take it that’s why you’re here,” Alhaitham says.

His friend takes his wife’s hand. “Yeah. But we’re also here for a wedding.” Then, he glances at you. “My brother’s getting remarried.”

You meet his eyes, and you hold his stare. If you know anything about your ex-husband, it's that he wants nothing more than to settle down and start a family. So, his remarriage doesn't surprise you. But why are you so unlucky? You haven't seen him since the divorce, but this town is so small that it'll be more surprising if you don't see him once or twice. And the last person you want to see in him, as you still haven't forgiven him.

Alhaitham tightens his grip around your hand as he says to his friend, “Oh, well, congratulations to him.” His friend smiles in response. “Let’s catch up later.” Alhaitham looks at you. “We still have our plans for the night.”

“Sure. I’ll see you around.”

Just before you and Alhaitham part ways, you hear the woman say, “Is that the one—”

Then, you hear her husband say, “Not now.”

The streets are becoming livelier, but your spirits can't keep up. You hate that this is affecting your date with Alhaitham, who obviously notices the drop in your mood. But, you know he's curious, and he's doing you a favour by not asking. There are so many things you want to say, but you don't know where to begin. So, you want to calm the storm in your heart before it all comes out.

Alhaitham wishes you would tell him what’s bothering you. Still, he won’t pry, especially if it’s something you don’t feel comfortable talking about. It’s a small world, and he has a hunch. But he wishes it was wrong.

“...I heard there’s going to be fireworks,” you say, finally disturbing the prolonged silence.

He smiles at you. “I heard that, too. Should we watch them by the lake?”

“Great idea.”

The streets are slightly quieter. A couple of kids carrying lit lanterns run by, with their parents following close behind.

“How do you know each other?” you ask.

“We met through Kaveh,” he says. “They’re colleagues.” A pause. “How do you two know each other?”

“He used to be my brother-in-law.” Alhaitham isn't sure if that's better or worse than he expected. He had assumed that he was your ex. Regardless, it doesn't make the situation any better. “I wouldn’t say we’re on good terms,” you say quietly. “Er, don’t misunderstand. This is just my opinion.”

Alhaitham pulls you slightly closer to him. “Did he take his brother’s side when the fallout happened?”

“I’m not trying to take his side,” your brother-in-law said. “But I’m trying to make you understand why he’s upset at you.”

You glared at him. “I’d rather not have other people involved in our affairs.”

He frowned. “I’m not ‘other people.’ We’re family, aren’t we?”

You scoffed. “You think I don’t know why he’s upset at me? He made it pretty clear, so I don’t need you to come to tell me the same thing he’s been telling me for the past week. I made my decision, and I don’t regret it.”

“...He’s willing to forgive you.”

Your head was about to explode. Even after the arguments and civil talk, your husband still thought it was all about him. You’d thought that he would change. Maybe listen to what you were saying. But maybe he did understand, and your perspectives didn’t align. Perhaps both of you rushed into this marriage, naively thinking love was all that mattered. But none of you truly understood what that meant. Now you were suffering the consequences. Regardless, you would never forgive him for what he did.

"I don't want his forgiveness," you retorted. "Do you know how much pain he caused me to make that decision?"

“...I didn’t say he was right in what he did. I know why you’re angry, and I would be too. But…”

“You don’t want to say he’s wrong,” you finished for him.

“He wanted a child,” you continue. You and Alhaitham are standing on a dock; your elbows are on the dock railing. “...I didn’t.” You take a small breath as Alhaitham puts his hand on yours.

Your heart felt like it immediately dropped into the pit of your stomach. The symptoms were there, but you didn’t think you’d be pregnant. You’d taken all the precautions, so how was this possible? You kept denying it, but that wouldn’t change the result in front of you. No. You weren’t ready for one, nor were you in a good place mentally. You didn’t understand. Suddenly, you burst into tears so loudly that you didn’t hear the door open.

“Is everything okay?” When your husband saw what was in your hand, he almost grabbed it from you. “...Are you…pregnant?”

“I don’t…I don’t understand. This can’t be happening.”

Your husband put an arm around you. “We’ll get through this together.”

“I don’t want a child. You know that!”

He sighed. “I know. But you’re pregnant. What else can we do?”

You were baffled at how lax your husband looked. Why was he not as surprised as you? It was as if he was just accepting this without question. It didn't make sense. He was just as careful as you had the important conversation with him. There were a fair share of arguments, but didn't you respect each other's decisions?

"At first, I blamed myself," you continue quietly. "Maybe I wasn't careful enough, so whether I was ready for a child or not, I was going to accept responsibility."

Alhaitham senses a ‘but’ and a terrible feeling that he can’t ignore.

You had come home earlier than usual. Your class had finished surprisingly early, and you were ready for a nap. The pregnancy was taking a bigger burden on your body than you thought. The door to your husband’s room was slightly ajar.

“...No. She still didn’t want a child,” you heard him say. “Mom’s been putting a lot of pressure on me, too.” He must be talking to his brother. “...and I mean, we want the same thing. I can’t wait any longer.”

You knew that your mother-in-law wanted a grandchild. She had also talked to you many times, but you didn’t budge. You didn’t know exactly what you wanted to do for a career yet. And, you definitely didn't want to rely on your husband for financial support as you stayed home and looked after the child. Sure, there were families like that. But that wasn’t a family you wanted.

“...I may have pulled a few strings.”

Your face instantly went pale. What was that supposed to mean?

“...He didn’t tell me,” you say. “That he messed with the condom.” You were sexually assaulted, and Alhaitham is at a loss for words. Sadness. Anger. A range of emotions is stirring inside, but he can’t put it into words. “I confronted him about it, and that’s when…I decided to end it.”

“Tell me the truth,” you said that night at dinner. “...You did something, didn’t you?”

Your husband looked at you. “...What do you mean?”

“Are you still going to play dumb, or do you want me to spell out sexual assault for you?”

He stood. “Wait. It’s not like that.”

“Then, explain to me how in the world did I get pregnant when we literally took all of the precautions.”

“Things happen!” he blurted. “Maybe it was meant to be.”

“I overheard your conversation today. Were you talking to your brother? You said you pulled a few strings. What did that mean?”

His face went pale. “I…I can explain.”

“I’m waiting.”

“I thought it would be okay. I didn’t think you’d—”

“That’s not the point,” you screamed. “You didn’t even tell me!”

"He admitted he wanted me to get pregnant," you say. "He said he knew I would accept responsibility if I didn't know." Alhaitham remains silent, but his eyes are on you the whole time. Then, he puts his arm around you and hugs you from behind. "...After that, I didn't consider the child to be mine."

“...You did what?” He forced you to look at him.

You held his glare. “I got an abortion.” You wouldn’t be surprised if he hit you, but he didn’t.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

You wanted to laugh. Right. Okay. You shrugged his hands off you. “That child wasn’t mine. It was yours and yours alone.”

“No. You’re a murderer. You fucking killed our child, and I’ll never forgive you.”

You didn’t want his forgiveness anyway.

“We were already going to couple therapy,” you say. “...and then this happened.” The fireworks go off, and you hear faint cheering from the crowd a distance away. "We got a divorce, and I reported him."

Your heart feels heavy as you remember the extremely taxing process and mental burden. It took a toll on you, and your grades suffered because of it. Eventually, you took some time off from your graduate studies to get your mental health back together.

"I really didn't want to stop," you say. "I already felt behind everyone else, and stopping my studies made me feel even more behind. I hated the feeling."

"I can understand why. But you did the right thing." You slowly look up at him. "All of it." Even if Alhaitham disagrees with your choices, you're confident enough to stand by your actions. But, him being on your side feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. He hugs you tighter. You smile slightly at how safe and comfortable you feel in his arms. "...I'm so sorry that happened to you."

You lean back, your body flush against his. “I used to wonder when it went wrong, but then I realized there was no point.” You sigh just as loud fireworks go off. “...What’s past is already past, but it still makes me angry thinking about it.” Alhaitham kisses your head, and you look up at him. “...Now, it’s my turn to ask. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Does it look like I am?”

You lightly pinch his nose. “Maybe you’re putting your acting skills to good use.”

“Gosh, I’m hurt.”

You laugh. “You’ll get over it.”

Alhaitham leans in, and you're expecting a kiss. But, it never comes. Then, you open your eyes and see a small smirk. He winks at you. “A little revenge never hurts.”

You're about to hit him gently, but he grabs your hand, pulls you close, and gives you a breathtaking kiss just as three heart-shaped fireworks go off in the sky.

After the show, you and Alhaitham are walking back to the villa when you pass by a small public karaoke booth. You stop and say, "You still owe me a song, remember?"

Alhaitham chuckles. "How can I forget?" Then, he opens the door for you. “After you, m’lady.”

You're sitting on a high stool with your elbows on his shoulders as he goes through the catalogue. Then, when he finally picks a classic love song, you wait in anticipation as the music begins. You aren't sure what to expect, but you can't stop staring at him as soon as he starts singing. But it's not his pleasing voice that takes you by surprise. Instead, it's how focused and serious he looks.

As he sings, he turns to you and takes your hand. But the romantic atmosphere is instantly crushed when he fails to hit the high note. Alhaitham sees you holding in your laughter, and he purposely sings off-key until you have to say something.

“You aren’t taking it seriously anymore!”

The song comes to an end, and he puts the microphone back. "Well, it made you laugh, at least."

You hop off the stool and grabs the second microphone. “Should we have a bet to see who can get a higher score? Winner gets anything they want.”

Alhaitham leans closer to you again and pecks your cheek. “Anything? Be careful what you wish for, love.”

His low voice takes your imagination on a wild ride. Your legs are around his waist, and his hands are on your hips. With your body against the wall, your body tremors with Alhaitham's deep thrusts. He grips you tighter, forcing you higher up the wall as he buries his nose into the crook of your neck.

“Are you ready?”

You instantly snap out of your thoughts and look at Alhaitham, who picks up his microphone. "Er, wait, who's going first?" you ask.

“I asked if you wanted to, and you said yes.” You did? “What were you thinking about?”

“...Nothing.” Then, you smile confidently. “I’m going to win this bet.”

He smiles mischievously. "We'll see about that."

You start off strong, but Alhaitham is clearly trying to distract you in the worst ways possible. His light touches on your waist and teasing kisses on your cheek, and eventually, your neck sends your mind into a frenzy. Finally, your voice cracks, and you shoot him a slight glare as he chuckles. He raises his hands as if surrendering and take his spot back on the high stool. Well, your score still isn't too bad.

When Alhaitham takes the mic, it's your turn to get revenge. Alhaitham does a good job of keeping his composure until you start singing with him but in the worst way possible. You sing for a few lines before Alhaitham gives you a deadpan look, and you smile at him. Then, when his score is revealed, you cheer in delight.

“I told you I was going to win,” you say.

“I guess I can’t demand a rematch.”

You open the door and say, “Nope.”

You stop by a booth and buy some cotton candy on the way back to the villa. As you two walk together, Alhaitham leans toward you and takes a small bite. "It's a little too sweet, don't you think?" you ask.

“You mean like you?”

You gag, and Alhaitham laughs.

Once you’re back, you and Alhaitham are back in the kitchen making dinner. You feed him the cooked pasta for a taste test, and he gives you a thumbs up.

"So, how long will you keep me in the dark?" he asks as you sit across each other with a plate of pasta. "You can ask for anything."

You chuckle as you swirl the noodles around your fork. "I'm not sure yet. I have to make it worthwhile, right? By the way, you aren't as bad as you say."

“Maybe you should give me lessons.”

"Me?" you ask incredulously. "Are you joking?"

He looks at you innocently. “Is it bad that I like your voice?”

The compliment takes you off guard, and you feel your cheeks warm. “Well, don’t think I’ll go easy on you.”

“Oh, I think I can handle it.” You want to wipe that little smirk off his face. “I look forward to it…teacher.”

You don’t know why that makes you blush harder.

◆◆◆

It's the middle of the night when you awaken, and it isn't because of any nightmares. You've just reached the bottom of the stairs when you see the light in the kitchen. Is Alhaitham awake, too? When you reach the doorway, you see Alhaitham pouring himself a hot cup of water.

“Can’t sleep?”

He turns around and smiles at you. “You got me.”

You walk toward him as he pours you some water. “...Did you have a nightmare?”

He leans toward you so he can whisper just beside your ear. “You kept me up.”

You take the cup from him. “Oh, please,” you say with a smile.

Alhaitham chuckles and puts his arms around you. “...What about you? What’s keeping you awake?”

After taking a sip of your water, you put the cup on the counter and turn around. “I sensed you were awake…so I got up to keep you company.”

“Oh, really?”

Alhaitham leans closer, but it's you who closes the gap. Your lips part, and his tongue slides into the warmth of your mouth. Your hands are on his waist, and his are on your back, pulling you closer. A soft moan. A quick gasp for air. Each kiss is almost deeper than the last. Your hands are in his hair, feeling the silken strands between your fingers. They feel just as soft as his lips. Your body arches into his, craving to feel his bare muscles against you.

Alhaitham's mouth leaves yours. Both of you stare at each other, breathless and your faces flushed. Finally, he places a delicate kiss on your neck. Then, "Should we get some sleep, love?"

You tilt his head up. “I know what I want.” Alhaitham’s gaze darkens as if reading your mind. “...I want you to please me.”

Chapter Ten

Tag List: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @themusingsofmany @thelightofmylife @jolyyuwu

[mall-0-ry]

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

In another life

TW: MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, DISORDERS

FEM READER x AZUL

There you are laid on your back, facing The slanting rays of the setting sun that gave a warm orange tinge to the sky. You could only sigh in frustration. “I’m tired of this, i want to end it all, why won’t you open your eyes? I’m trying hard enough to be perfect for you..” You scratched your head in aggravation, You sat up and stared at the rooftops door, You then slowly stood up and walked near the waist length metal fence. You hesitantly went to the edge of the roof while gripping on the metal bars tightly.

As you were about to let go, you heard the roof doors got banged opened. You turned to look at the culprit who did it, only to see a tuff of Silver-blue hair and their panting figure.

“Don’t do something stupid!” The Guy shouted while standing straight once again. “Even if you’re tired.. you can lean on me so you can rest!” He exclaimed with tears brimming his eyes

‘Huh..? Azul?! What’re you doing here?! Don’t you have a café to run?!’ You shouted back, almost slipping off the edge from being startled. ”The mostro lounge is not my top priority! You are! So come back over to this side (y/n)!” he shouted once again slowly walking up to you.

‘This is stupid.. why do you even care that much?!’ You exclaimed while tearing up.

”…because.. because I’m your friend, (Y/N)” He said slowly, he could only wince at the title he mentioned, “Friend” yeah such a bitter title to give to someone you love and cherish.

For years, you've desired for him to notice you, for years on how hard you tried to let him know that you like him, and all you could do was stare at him with your tear-streaked face. You slowly let go of the metal bars, feeling like it was all a waste.

Azul extended out to you, surprised because he didn't expect you to do it in front of him.

You awoke in a chilly sweat and heavy breathing. You couldn't imagine that an incident from a few years ago would resurface and bite you hard.

You were taken out of your thoughts by a warm embrace; you melted in the warmth and gently said out their name.

‘Azul..? You quietly remarked while moving his locks away, you couldn't help but aww and marvel at his cute, sophisticated sleeping face, and as you were going to kiss his forehead, the figure moved, forcing you to kiss their lips instead. Azul could be heard laughing. "Isn't this a lovely good morning kiss?" " he grinned as he pushed a few strands from your hair

The afternoon has arrived, and you're both sitting at the Dining table, eating breakfast and chatting here and there, when an idea strikes you.

“Azul.. What do you think? do we practice our wedding vows? " You gave a cheshire cat-like grin.

"You're thinking about marriage already?" I see.. "Well, sweetheart we should" Azul grinned as he sipped his coffee.

He sensed your excitement and didn’t bother asking much.

You both stood up and took each other's hands as you awaited Azul's vows.

"Do you want to marry me, (Y/N)?" Do you promise to stick by me in good times and bad?, to love and respect me in every way.” Azul finished, with slight tears gleaming on his eyes. you them continued..

“ I take you.. to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health.. `til death do us apart.” You finished, Azul took your hand and slowly put on the ring on your ring finger.. he stared at your Alluring face with so much love, you could only gasp at the sight of a diamond ring, that symbolizes Eternal love, Loyalty and perfection.

You both said your goodbyes and went off to your various workplaces. you walked for a bit before becoming dizzy, you could only keep stumbling here and there, your coworkers' cheeks flushed with anxiety, you groped for a door only to black out.

Azul stood frozen on the other side of the room as he watched you faint. He quickly ran up to you and held you tight, " Someone call an ambulance! She's running out of breath! " Azul exclaimed, terrified.

Why couldn't he accomplish more? Is he that ineffective? Is his function in life. is to continue to be useless to you?

He could only think terrible things, which were slowly killing him.

You awoke in the hospital bed, the sun dew on your face, and you couldn't help but cry. Before blacking out, you saw Azul's horrified and concerned face, and you knew the day would come when he would learn about your illness.

You couldn't help but feel bad about yourself.

You twisted and turned your entire body to look out the window, reminiscing about the past.

You heard Azul enter the room not long after, and you kept your back to him, You remained silent after hearing him say, "You look stupid." as Azul went on,

"Do you honestly believe I wouldn't find out quite quickly...?"

" he asked,

”It’ll be okay, I’m here now you’ll get better.” you could only sob as you listened to Azul, but you remained silent, so Azul could say anything he wanted.

He walked up to you and caressed your back, trying his hardest not to cry, but seeing you look so helpless made him want to cry his heart out.

He embraced you closely and whispered, "We promised each other..."

"If you leave me, I'm going to murder you," he added, raising your hand and kissing your knuckles before gently massaging it.

"Do not be scared. We're going home, okay? You'll be fine, everything will be fine. " You gripped his hand and sobbed, you couldn't stop yourself."

As he grabbed you closely, he whispered, "We promised each other..."

"If you leave me, I'm going to murder you," he said as he gently caressed your hand.

"Don't worry. We're heading home, and you'll be fine. " You gripped his hand and cried, and after hearing what Azul said, you couldn't help but cry even more." "I'll look after you; we're going home, and I'll be here."

”Eat only a little, there” Azul brought his hand up and caressed your back, seeing you look slightly lifeless made his heart hurt, he doesn’t want to see you like this, Azul stared at your tired face.

“Azul? I’m sorry” upon hearing those words, Azul looked at you, Shocked. ‘What’re you even sorry for? There’s nothing to be sorry about’ Azul thought while waiting for you to continue.

“I messed up your life.” You continued, Azul stared at your face before setting down the bowl on the table ”What’re you talking about? We’re even, plus I’m the one who messed up your life first.?” He said while you stare at the clock, before answering him “Messy is better, right? Better than boring?…” you said before continuing again “I’m alright now..?” you questioned Azul, Azul frantically answered back. ”Of course, you’re okay! Because i am here now. Right?”

“Azul? I’m not afraid anymore, you.. asked me what my wish was right..?” You said slowly, while darting your eyes to the ground. Azul listened in silence, “My wish… is to be with you always.” Azul’s face turned grim, he already knew what is happening.. Azul could only wipe your tears away and kisses your forehead.

Oh how he hope that god can change his mind, He hope that they wouldn’t take you so early.

Azul just hugged your body, and rocked you back and forth gently. You slowly started to lose consciousnesses and as your body slowly started to turn cold.

Slowly dying in your lover’s arms..

” I hope that.. in another life, we could stay forever, Happy and healthy, my dear pearl.”

[ladylilithprime]

Luck And Marriage Are What You Make Of Them

Series: Fluffy Faerie Tales

Fandom: Supernatural

Word Count: 5204

Pairing: Sastimmy/Jamstiel (Jimmy Novak/Sam Winchester/Castiel), background Donna Hanscum/Amelia Novak, background Kevin Tran/Channing Ngo

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags/Warnings: Half-Fae Sam Winchester, Jimmy and Castiel Are Twins, Selkie Jack Kline, Sam Winchester Is Jack Kline's Adopted Father, Brief Allusions to Canon-Typical Violence, References to Past Events, Autistic Cas and Jimmy, V-Shaped Polyamorous Wedding, Trans Woman Amelia, Selkie Donna Hanscum, Oh Gods The Tags On This Fic Are Insane

Summary: A V-shaped polyamorous wedding was bound to have some quirks and peculiarities to it. This is even more true when two of the three are magically created twins and their soon-to-be husband is a prince of one Realm and a king of another. They've got this, though-- not even rain can slow them down.

For: @fluffyfebruary challenge!

Prompt: Day 26: Rain

Read on AO3

ISN'T IT A bad omen to have rain on your wedding day?" Charlene Novak asked nervously, glancing out at where the curtain of gray drizzle was coming down beyond the edges of the pavilion. The fact that there even was a pavilion felt like a stroke of luck considering the wedding was being held outside on a beach and the venue hadn't changed despite the weather forecast.

"Considering the season, the location, and the guest list, Mom, the rain was explicitly planned for," Jimmy told her with a wry little smile for her and Michael. He was apparently the twin designated to meet them, as he was wearing board shorts and a Hawaiian shirt that Charlene had never seen before and Cas was nowhere to be seen. As if somehow reading her mind, he added, "Cas is in the dressing room tent helping Sam with his hair. Charlie's supposed to come get me when they're done and it's time to get dressed."

"Oh, is Charlie your Best Man?" Charlene asked, trying not to think too closely about the bad luck associated with seeing your bride before the wedding. None of them were brides, after all, and that was honestly the part Charlene was having the easiest time wrapping her head around about it all.

"She's certainly our best something," Jimmy said after a moment's hesitation. Right, Charlie was the name of their female coworker. "I'll make sure to introduce you when she comes out. She'll be able to help you navigate the rest of the guests. Nobody should start anything, but we've got a lot of powerful people and volatile personalities under one waterproofed canvas roof."

"And a promise to behave and keep any extra-familial drama to themselves is only gonna last until an hour into the reception," a slender redhead in a pale blue wrap dress said as she seemed to materialize at Jimmy's elbow. Charlene jumped, but Jimmy didn't even seem fazed. "I heard my name. Hi, I'm Charlie Bradbury, human hacker and barista extraordinaire."

"Michael Novak, and my wife, Charlene," Michael spoke up on automatic as he usually did when they attended events together. Charlene noticed the way Charlie narrowed her eyes, but Michael was apparently distracted by-- "Would you be the one to ask about the... car?"

"That's Sam's niece, Baby," Charlie said, which didn't make a whole lot of sense. The car was the faerie's niece? Surely she meant the car belonged to his niece, not-- "Yes, she's a sentient car, it's a long story, and she's very nice to people who treat her like a person despite her shape. She's actually one of the reasons the wedding is being held outside since she's the flower girl and DJ." While Charlene was attempting to process that, Charlie turned to Jimmy. "Cas is just about done and wants your help with the ribbons, and then you both need to get gowned up."

"Going," Jimmy nodded, then looked back at Charlene. "Stay close to Charlie, keep Dad out of trouble, and Cas and I will both come say hi afterwards."

And then he was gone, leaving Charlene blinking and Michael humphing quietly. Charlie just smiled brightly and gestured around the pavilion interior at the slowly assembling guests. "Anyone in particular you'd like to be introduced to or would you rather find your seats and save introductions for the reception?"

"How about just giving us an overview of who's who for the time being?" Charlene suggested when Michael kept silent.

"As you like," Charlie chirped, rocking on her heels in the sand. She spun around slowly, eyes tracking over the crowd, then nodded to herself and began pointing out different people. "Well, Baby's Dad is Sam's older brother, he goes by Dean these days and is acting as Sam's Best Man." The man she pointed to was dressed in jeans and a blue button down shirt under a leather jacket. He might have looked completely normal if not for the pointed ears and long blonde hair that had been braided back into something resembling a mohawk. Next to him was another pointy-eared blonde man wearing a cloak in a darker blue, and a blonde woman with long blonde curls wearing a silver and blue diadem. "He's talking to their younger brother, who goes by Adam, and their mother, the Cerulean Princess... she'll probably say to call her Mary, but it's best to wait for her to tell you which of her nicknames to use."

"Princess?" Charlene repeated faintly, scrambling to remember if Jimmy or Cas had said anything about that in their phone calls or letters and coming up blank. "Does that make Sam and his brothers princes?"

"It does, and Sam will be wearing his official circlet for the wedding, but none of them really like to draw attention to their rank here in the mortal realm," Charlie told her with a shrug. She swiveled and pointed to a serious-looking dark-haired man who might have been normal except that he was dressed a lot like the faerie princess. "That's Sam's dad, the Cerulean Knight, also known as Saint John the Divine. Yeah, that John. He's human but left the mortal realms with Mary after his bestie was killed for political reasons and earned his immortality in the fae realms. And the guy he's talking to is the current reincarnation of that bestie. I think he said his name this time around is Chuck, and he really does prefer that to the whole 'Christ' thing."

"You're kidding," Charlene said weakly, staring at the nervous-looking man with curly hair wearing jeans and a tie-dye t-shirt under what looked like a borrowed royal blue and white choir stole. He looked more like somebody's stoner cousin than Christ the Lord returned to Earth.

"Nnnope," Charlie said, sounding far more gleeful than Charlene felt was warranted. "And lookee there, that's the Archangel Gabriel joining them... but I understand you've met him once before already."

"Never seen any of them before," Michael grunted from beside Charlene.

She managed something vaguely strangled in response, too preoccupied with seeing the angel from the church casually walking up to her sons' fiance's father and his friend and joining the conversation. Whatever he said had the... Christ... smacking his forehead with an exasperated expression as the serious expression on Sam's father's face split into a mischievous smirk that made him look a lot like his eldest son despite the human ears.

"Looks like Gabe just told Chuck that Lucy's arrived," Charlene heard Charlie say as if from a distance. "That's Lucifer, by the way, but his reputation is heavily exaggerated, and he's perfectly charming but he likes to make bets and he's almost worse about contracts than Sam's Unseelie cousins. Oh, if you see a faerie girl who looks like she's part plant, that's Bloddewyn, she brought all the flowers. If she talks to you, just be polite and don't use her name." There was a pause, and then Charlie added in a sympathetic tone, "Too much? Want me to show you to your seats?"

"That might be best," Charlene said faintly. It was too late to turn around and run away, she reminded herself. And she wasn't going to let the upending of her faith or the presence of the literal Devil keep her from seeing her little boys get married.

"This way, then," Charlie said. Charlene fumbled for Michael's arm, feeling a wave of relief when he caught her hand and wrapped it around his bicep before leading her to follow Charlie over to a couple of chairs on the right side of the flower-and-ribbon decorated platform at one end of the pavilion. "You're seated next to Kevin Tran and his wife Channing. They're dragons."

 

WAS IT REALLY wise to leave our parents with Charlie?" Cas asked Jimmy when he stepped into the tent, letting the flap fall closed behind him.

"Eh, probably not," Jimmy admitted with a shrug. "She won't traumatize them too much, though. We made her promise to back off if she noticed Mom dissociating."

"Hard to believe all those years of us being visibly autistic and we never noticed Mom's symptoms," Cas shook his head and beckoned Jimmy over. "Here, help me pin this evenly."

"If she hasn't figured it out by now, it probably won't make a difference for her to know," Sam murmured, holding still as Jimmy and Cas carefully fitted the pins through metal, hair and cloth on either side of his head. "Aside from possibly making her feel worse for what happened when you were four."

Jimmy had to admit that was the more likely outcome. Given the research he and Cas had been doing, they knew that a lot of women from previous generations never got officially diagnosed even after they realized it because the default standard for diagnosis was young boys. Jimmy didn't know exactly how his Irish Catholic mother was raised by their grandparents given that she wasn't on speaking terms with them, but it was entirely likely that it had never even occurred to her that she might be autistic at all, even when struggling to figure out how to help her sons manage their own sensory overloads.

"Charlie was going to put them over by Kevin and Channing, right?" Cas confirmed, glancing up at Jimmy. "If they can get over them being dragons, then those two will probably be the safest people on our side of the aisle. Especially if they're the only ones of the family who came."

"Cousin Anna's out there," Jimmy said with a half-shoulder shrug. "I saw her talking to Donna and Amelia."

That had certainly been an unexpected romance at the time, even if it made perfect sense now. Sheriff Donna Hanscum had stepped up to be foster mom to ten-year-old Matt Pike when he was rescued from his real estate developer father, but she wasn't keen on being a single parent. Amelia, meanwhile, wasn't exactly naturally maternal for all she was willing to give birth now that Sam's magic had given her the right parts, but with Donna there to pick up the maternal slack Amelia was able to relax and just enjoy being able to rub it in the faces of her old bullies that they couldn't say she wasn't a real woman.

A minor commotion from beyond the tent flaps made all three of them start, but only Cas and Jimmy turned when the flap lifted and a brunette woman with black eyes and small curling horns nestled in her hair poked her head in. "Lucy's here."

"Thanks, Ruby," Sam sighed, closing his eyes. "Keep an eye on things and let me know if it looks like I need to remind him that he promised not to start shit with Chuck or Gabe until the reception is well underway."

"Will do, boss," the she-demon saluted and ducked back out.

"We'd better get dressed now so there's less time for Lucifer to forget his promise," Jimmy sighed, letting his hands drop from where he had been absently stimming on one of Sam's small silver-wrapped braids and stepping back to admire his and Cas's soon-to-be husband.

Sam had let most of his glamours drop for the occasion, aside from adjusting the length of his hair to be down to his knees. Cas had done an amazing job styling the chestnut brown waves with braids and beads and silver wires and chains and blue ribbons while still letting most of it hang free beneath the sheer fabric of the veil pinned at two points to the ends of the delicate silver filigree circlet set with blue opals that Sam wore to denote his princely status. In contrast to the marvel of his hair, his wedding outfit was almost plain in comparison, having chosen to wear the white ruffled blouse he had bought on impulse months before with a set of black slit-sided silk harem pants with silver-embroidered cuffs and a blue and silver scarf tied around his waist like a belt. The lack of glamours meant that the expansive array of tattoos and runic wards were on display, visible as shadows beneath the white fabric and clearly defined by the open V of his shirt and peeking out from the slit sides in his pants that ran from ankle to waist. He looked understated but royal and thoroughly edible, making Jimmy think briefly of their plans for after the wedding reception.

"Getting dressed will happen faster without staring at our gorgeous husband-to-be," Cas pointed out, tossing a pile of white cotton jersey knit fabric at Jimmy, snapping him out of his daydream. He stuck his tongue out at his brother as Sam laughed softly, shaking the white cloth out to reveal part one of his own wedding attire.

The white V-necked maxi dress with the ankle length full skirt was not what most people would think of when they thought "wedding dress", but it was soft and light and sleeveless, which made it the perfect garment to go beneath the custom-tailored blue and silver alicorn hide jackets that Sam had gifted them the night they had gotten engaged. Jimmy shrugged out of the shirt he'd been wearing to greet their parents and pulled the dress over his head, then shimmied out of his shorts and tossed them towards the duffel bag in the corner. "Hair?"

"Grab some mousse and tousel it," Cas directed, half-muffled by his own dress. "We've got circlets of our own to put on during the ceremony, so we don't want to be too pristine."

"Got it." Jimmy accepted the spray bottle of mousse Sam passed him, passing it to Cas when he had a decent peak on his fingers, and working it through his hair before fluffing it up a bit. Sam passed him a wet wipe to clean the product off his hands, then helped him into his jacket before turning and helping Cas as well.

"You both look wonderful," he said, looking back and forth between them with a soft smile that didn't even try to disguise the banked heat in his eyes. "If I wasn't so eager to finally be able to call you my husbands, I'd be stealing you away to the Summer Palace already."

"Wedding and reception first--" Cas started, lips twitching upwards in a tiny smirk.

"Honeymoon after," Jimmy finished with a matching smirk. "Now let's go get married."

 

THE CHATTER AROUND the pavilion quieted when the pristinely polished glossy black 1967 Chevy Impala with a bouquet of blue roses and gardenias tied to her front grill with blue and silver ribbons revved her engine pointedly. The radio dial swiveled and then the volume rose, fading in to the soft chimes and flowing winds and strings of Holst's "Venus, the Bringer of Peace". Anyone not already in their seats or equivalent positions quickly found their way to them, and Chuck took his place at the front on the platform festooned in English ivy, white honeysuckle, and wisteria. Gone for the moment was the nervousness and uncertainty, a calm settling over him that made it far easier to believe he was Christ returned to Earth. He extended his hands, and the gathered wedding guests turned to look down the aisle.

With Baby already in position at the front on the left, the first one down the aisle was a spotted seal in a blue satin bowtie, the compromise for Jack not having to wear a suit like a human. He carried two black velvet drawstring bags in his mouth as he made his way through the sand and up the shallow ramp to the right of the platform until he could sit up, head high and eyes bright and attentive. A couple of cameras clicked, but he politely pretended not to notice as he kept his eyes fixed on the tent. Dean and Charlie came next, Charlie walking calmly and gracefully through the sand on Dean's arm. They stopped at the front of the platform and faced each other, performed a complicated ritual handshake, and separated to their respective sides with appropriately attentive expressions.

The next to make their way down the aisle, coming from the back of either side among the guests, were a tall man with carefully styled dark hair in a black suit with a dark blue silk button down shirt and the top two buttons left undone coming from the left, and from the right a well-muscled man in leather armor embellished with gold knotwork motifs with his blonde hair and beard braided and ornamented, a metal hammer hung from his belt. They stared at each other for a moment, and then the blonde man offered his arm and the brunette accepted with a playful smirk that seemed to bode trouble. Whatever mischief was thought up, nothing happened in the walk down the aisle under Chuck's slightly wary gaze, and they separated at the front with polite bows before taking their places, the brunette next to a studiously blank-faced Dean, the blonde next to a quietly snickering Charlie.

Eyes swiveled back to the rear as the tent flap opened and Sam emerged, drawing a few soft gasps from the people who had never seen him so unglamoured before. The intricate warding runes tattooed across his skin in blue had been accented with black to make them stand out all the more in the brief flashes of skin as he glided over the sand down the aisle. The sheer blue and silver fabric pinned drapingly over his long and elaborately braided hair was the wrong color for a traditionally Western human bridal veil, but the symbolism was there. He even carried a bouquet of blue irises, white chrysanthemums, myrtle, alyssum maritimum, and fern. He did not ascend the platform like the others, stopping at the base and turning to look back the way he had come.

Like magnets, the eyes of the assembled guests followed his lead and the tent flap lifted again to allow Cas and Jimmy to emerge together. With their identical clothes and matching solemn expressions it was nearly impossible to tell the twins apart, the hands closest to each other hidden by the bouquet of gloxinias, orange blossoms, forget-me-nots, blue violets, and ivy. Hardly any skin could be seen beneath the white dresses and blue and silver jackets, but it hardly needed to be as their skirts flowed and swished against their legs as they walked. Several people murmured in awe as they recognized the materials or motifs of the jackets, and when they reached the platform they halted as one beside Sam, who turned with them to face Chuck.

To the far left, Baby turned the volume of the music slowly down until her radio clicked off, leaving only the sounds of the rain, the crashing waves, and the calls of the sea birds and nearby kelpies in the wetlands. With all eyes on him now, Chuck cleared his throat and looked out at the assembled guests.

"Gathered friends and family," he said, his clear tenor voice carrying to all corners of the pavilion. "We come together to celebrate the joining of these three true hearts in marriage most eternal." A few people chuckled at the emphasis, and he paused to let them get it out before continuing, "Who stands as family of heart and home?"

"I, Cer of the Summer Court, stand for Seren, as his brother by blood," Dean announced. "By the grace of our shared father and mother, he is my family of heart and home."

"Do you give your brother to be married to his chosen partners?" Chuck asked.

"I do," Dean nodded shortly.

"I, Thor of Asgard, stand for John Castiel and James Constantine, as their brother by choice," the blonde man in armor intoned, drawing a few gasps from the right side of the assembly. "By the grace of the apples of Idunn's garden, they are my family of heart and home."

"Do you give your brothers to be married to their chosen partner?" Chuck asked him, receiving a beaming smile along with Thor's nod and "I do". "And who stands as family of blood and battle?"

"I, Lucifer Morningstar, stand for Samael, as his brother in rulership," the dark-haired man drawled, smirking slightly when Chuck shot him a look. "By the blood and battle through which he claimed his throne of one of the Nine Realms of Tartarus, so do I claim him as my family."

"Do you give him to be married to his chosen partners?" Chuck asked, just a little warily.

"Oh yes, I very much do," Lucifer purred. Guests nearest the platform caught Sam rolling his eyes, and Chuck looked very much like he wanted to do the same.

Luckily, Charlie took her cue to speak. "I, Charlie Bradbury, stand for Cas and Jimmy, as their sister in service. Through the blood and burns and the battles against awful customers, they are my brothers."

"Do you give your brothers to be married to their chosen partner?" Chuck asked her, flinching slightly when she grinned toothily.

"Absofuckinglutely I do!"

More laughter and some further eyerolls, but everyone seemed to have been prepared by Lucifer's deviation and settled down quickly.

"Seren, Samael, Sam Winchester," Chuck intoned, settling the crowd further to pay attention, "do you come of your own free will to be married?"

"I do," Sam said firmly and promptly.

"Whom do you come to marry?"

"These men beside me."

"John Castiel and James Constantine, Cas and Jimmy, do you come of your own free will to be married?"

"We do," the twins chorused in perfect unison.

"Whom do you come to marry?"

"This man beside us."

"Sam, Cas, Jimmy, please ascend and take your places before me," Chuck invited.

The three of them stepped up onto the platform, revealing that all three were barefoot. Sam crossed left and handed off his bouquet to Dean, who made a face at him but took it with a surprising amount of care and delicacy... until one noticed the way he glanced surreptitiously towards the watching guests, particularly one woman with long golden hair that seemed threaded with vines. Meanwhile, Cas and Jimmy handed their bouquet off to Charlie, revealing the silver spinning dragon ring on Jimmy's left thumb and a flash of black tooled and braided leather around Cas's right wrist. Those hands found each other and clasped tight as they turned to face Sam before Chuck.

"Sam, Cas, Jimmy," Chuck began, looking between them. "You come before this assembly, before your families and friends, to join yourselves to each other and unite your families into one. Have you prepared your vows?"

"We have," the three of them said.

"Begin."

To the audible surprise around the pavilion, Cas and Jimmy promptly turned to each other and, their hands still clasped, raised their free hands in fists and bounced them three times before Jimmy's hand went flat while Cas threw out a sideways V. They high-fived over their clasped hands as their guests laughed, then turned back to face a grinning Sam.

"Sam," Cas croaked, then cleared his throat and began again more strongly. "Sam. I looked into your eyes and the world opened before me. I took your hand and gave over my heart. You warmed a chill in my soul that I was unaware of, and every day with you renews that warmth more effectively even than your Dragon's Breath Chai." Several people laughed, Charlie the loudest from that reminder of their first meeting. "I cannot give you my heart, because you already have it and I know it is safe in your care. Instead, I give you the rest of my life, however long that may be, in hopes that I will bring you love and happiness. I promise to support you in your troubles, rejoice with you in your joys, comfort you in your sorrows. Your family will be my family, your children will be my children. From this day forward until we cease to exist, I am yours, and I accept you as mine."

"Way to be a hard act to follow, bro," Jimmy muttered deliberately loudly to the added laughter of the guests, surreptitiously squeezing his twin's hand.

"John Castiel Novak," Sam stated, smiling as his tone softened. "Cas. The first time I heard you speak, I knew what a gift your every word would be. You knew what I was and you were unafraid. You gave me your name and trusted that I would not misuse that knowledge. You took my hand and I felt the light of your soul. I knew then that I would willingly give you anything you asked of me that was within my power to give, and that has only become more true the longer I have known you. Your kindness and compassion, your strength and determination, your bravery and resilience... all of this and more makes loving you more than just easy. It was inevitable. And it doesn't hurt that you have a way with my hair that would take me magic to replicate," he added with a wink and an illustrative toss of his head, making Cas laugh almost too softly to be heard beneath the laughter from the guests. "I will be your sword and your shield. I will be your guide, your friend, your partner, and your lover. Every day I will strive to accept and embrace you exactly as you are. From this day forward until we cease to exist, I am yours, and I accept you as mine."

"My turn to take a swing at this now, no pressure," Jimmy joked, winking at Sam when he laughed along with the crowd. "Sam, Seren, my shining North Star... when I first met you, all I was looking for was a chance to keep my brother safe. I knew that chance wouldn't come without a price and I thought I was ready to pay it, even with my own life." He looked up, meeting Sam's eyes as he said, "Then we found you, and you showed me that my life wasn't a price to pay, but a gift to give, and it's a gift I will always choose to give to you. I will support you as your partner as I have served you as your employee. I will listen to you, offering advice when asked and accepting advice when given. I will tend your wounds, from iron to alicorns, and always kiss them better. I will provide for you and all of our children, current and future, to the best of my ability. I will remind you that your life, too, is a gift to be treasured, and I will accept that gift every day. From this day forward until we cease to exist, I am yours, and I accept you as mine."

"Dayum," someone, probably Gabriel, muttered, prompting a small smattering of laughter as Sam surreptitiously lifted a hand to swipe at his eyes.

"Pretty sure you knocked it out of the park," he said, voice thick with emotion. He swallowed, cleared his throat, and swallowed again. "Jimmy... James Constantine Novak... even before I first held your hand and felt the light of your soul touch mine, I knew your determination and drive to protect those most precious to you. You were afraid and you still bravely stood your ground, keeping up a smile the whole time... despite provocation."

"I said I was sorry!" Charlie huffed in mock-annoyance, prompting more laughter.

"And I forgave you," Jimmy teased back.

"More quickly than many would in your place," Sam chuckled. His laughter faded as he went on, "It made me wonder how such a brave, bright soul could so readily see himself as an imperfect shadow. Jimmy, it was so very easy to fall in love with you, your adaptability, wisdom, and wit... the same compassion and resilience in your twin applied in your own way. Convincing you that I love you was less easy, even knowing I can't lie. Fortunately for me, you were willing to be persuaded," he smirked as Jimmy ducked his head with a blush. "You deserve to be treasured for yourself, and I promise to not only treasure you for all our days and nights, but to remind you when times get hard that you are worth whatever effort is involved. I will stand at your side to protect you and your loved ones, care for your illnesses and injuries, and hold you through joys and sorrows, big and small. From this day forward until we cease to exist, I am yours, and I accept you as mine."

"Good thing I skipped the eyeliner," Jimmy chuckled, taking his own turn to wipe his eyes with the back of his free hand.

"Sam, Cas, Jimmy?" Chuck broke in gently. "Do you three accept the vows which have been given to you?"

"We do," they answered, not quite in perfect unison. No one seemed surprised or inclined to call them on it, and Chuck turned to beckon Jack forward.

"Sam, as a prince of the Summer Court and a King of one of the Nine Realms of Tartarus, your spouses will be your royal consorts," Chuck said as Jack scooted forward and stretched up to pass over the velvet bags in his mouth. "Cas, Jimmy, do you accept these roles?"

"We do," the twins nodded, kneeling at Chuck's direction, Cas going down to his right knee, Jimmy to his left.

"Cas, Jimmy... receive these crowns of mithril silver and Tartaran obsidian as symbols of your places at my side," Sam intoned, drawing both intricately twisted silver and black circlets from their bags. He fumbled his grip a little until he held one in each hand, carefully lowering them onto the twin heads of dark curls. "I crown you both as my consorts at the same time, so that it will be known that you are equal in my heart and you both stand as my partners in all things, from here unto the end of our days."

"Clasp hands with your husbands and accept the bond between your souls as you have accepted the bond between your hearts," Chuck directed him, and Sam eagerly reached out, his left hand to Jimmy and his right hand to Cas. Golden ribbons of light sprang up around their hands, drawing surprised noises from the various humans in the crowd, before settling into a ring of golden runes around their respective wrists that slowly faded into black. Sam helped Cas and Jimmy to their feet, beaming happily as Chuck pronounced, "Bonded together in marriage of sound minds, loving hearts, and immortal souls, from this day forward are your lives entwined together. By Lady Magic and the Light of the Universe... I pronounce you husbands." He pressed his hands together and bowed. "Namasté."

Baby honked her horn happily as Jack barked in joy. The radio crackled until the triumphant strains of Freddy Mercury singing the chorus to "We Are The Champions" rolled out over the cheering assembly as Sam, Cas, and Jimmy came together in a threeway embrace. If this was the rest of their lives, it was off to a fantastic start.

Notes:

Sam's bouquet:

Iris (faith, hope, wisdom, valor)

White chrysanthemum (truth)

Myrtle (love, Hebrew emblem of marriage)

Alyssum maritimum (immortal love)

Fern (magic, fascination, confidence and shelter)

Cas and Jimmy's bouquets:

Gloxinia (love at first sight)

Orange blossoms (innocence, eternal love, marriage, and fruitfulness)

Blue violets (faithfulness)

Forget-Me-Nots (true love, memories)

Ivy (wedded love, fidelity)

Baby's bouquet:

Blue roses (attaining the impossible, mystery)

Gardenia (good luck)

Lily-of-the-valley (sweetness, humility, returning happiness)

Ivy (fidelity, endurance)

Platform decoration:

Ivy (wedded love, fidelity)

Honeysuckle (devoted affection, bonds of love)

Wisteria (welcoming)

[ssanox]

The Post Wedding Soiree

Summary: When Y/n meets Nat at Pepper and Tony's wedding party. Y/n was the girl who made the cake and is a friend of Pepper's.

Pairing: Natasha x Y/n fem reader.

Content Warning: A little bit of alcohol consumption (They are drinking champagne)

Inspo: Loosely based off an episode of How I Met Your Mother

Word Count: Around 1kish?

*I just want to say that this is my first time posting and writing up here. I didn't really know what to post so why not post a short imagine. *

Y/n was looking around the party scene and she just so happened to see Natasha. She thought that the red haired woman was straight up gorgeous.

She continued to look at Natasha, in totally a not creepy way. she watched as everyone was basically huddled up together and playfully pushed and shoved each other. The gorgeous red haired woman just stood still looking completely over it.

Natasha wore a black suit that practically made her breasts be on display and red bottom heels. "I'm no better than a man" Y/n thought to herself and laughed silently to herself.

Natasha was surprised she caught it. If anything she didn't even think she was gonna catch it, she just participated for Pepper. "I wonder who the lucky man will be... Or woman." Pepper subtly mumbled the part and smirked to herself as she finished speaking.

"Oh Goddd" Nat mumbled as she handed the bouquet back to Pepper who was still smirked at her. She walked off towards to the open bar where she saw a woman with black hair leaning up against the bar.

"Would you like another drink?" Natasha asked in her naturally rasp voice. Y/n looked back at whoever spoke to her and was surprised to see the red haired woman with the brown piercing eyes. She couldn't think of anything to say, so she replied with a "Yes, please." She was finally able to get a closer look at the woman she admired from across the room.

Natasha got the woman a drink and was already curious of her. " I feel like I should tell you this.. I have a rule to not hook up with people at weddings." Y/n quickly said and ended up chuckling. It was kind of an awkward chuckle, she thought on her part. When on the other hand, Natasha couldn't help to find it a little bit cute and giggle.

"Why do I feel like you have this rule from experience?" Natasha asked.

"Not from my personal experiences exactly, but I can definitely tell you that it isn't all that great and romantic." Y/n further explain to the woman. She was not ashamed of doing so though.

Natasha could tell that this woman wasn't that bad and it wouldn't hurt to see where this night could go with her. "Yeahhhh I agree with you, and it's coming from experience. I have a rule that I don't hook up on the first date." Natasha laughs off and Y/n laughed along with her.

Y/n placed her hand on Natasha's arm and felt her tense and quickly took her hand away. "I'm sorry for doing that." Y/n said quickly said.

"No, you didn't do anything. I was just caught off guard. It's alright." She replied.

"I saw you with the bouquet and your reaction to catching it was hilarious." Y/n quickly changed the slightly awkward mood the felt awkward yet again on her part. "Oh.. That was just.. I don't even know. I don't see myself married as of right now even getting anything too serious." Natasha explains.

"Damn.. and I thought you was here trying to hit on me for a minute there." Y/n joked.

Y/n was exactly looking for a relationship either, so all they were doing was some harmless flirting.

"You thought that was me hitting on you? Ah darling, no.. I feel like you'd know if I was making moves on you. My moves are top tier. This is me not making moves on you." Natasha laughs it off.

"Damnn.. You know what, your lost/" She playfully shrugs off and rolls her eyes. Natasha quietly laughs at her and just looks at her for a little bit. They just kept staring at each other eyes in comfortable silence until Natasha thought of something.

It was quiet for a few more seconds, then Natasha broke the silence. "Back to the net hooking up at weddings though. The worst part of doing that is the next day."

"Yes. I definitely agree. The having sex with a random person part is not bad but the next day.. yeaaa." Y/n replies.

Natasha joins in on the small laugh. it was quiet for a few second then this time Y/n breaks the silence. "You know what.. you're here and I"m here at this beautiful wedding and we will most likely not even see each other again. So let's just hang out and do something fun that we can look back at later on in our separate lives and laugh about it with our friends."

It was silent again for a while as Natasha was thinking about it. "Okay, let's do it." Natasha finally agrees. "I don't even know your name? What do I even call you?" She asks Y/n.

Y/n was wondering if she should actually give this woman her name. It wasn't like she was going to actually see her agin. "Y/n/n. That's my nickname. What do I call you?" Y/n replied.

"Red. That'll be my nickname.. or just call me 'Lia." Natasha didn't exactly want to give her name to a woman she doesn't know. So she just settled for either Red or Lia.

"This is me totally not making moves on you, but do you wanna leave this party and go find an empty room and have a small party?" Natasha finally asked. She nervously chewed on the inside of her cheek because she didn't know if Y/n was going to agree or not.

Y/n contemplated on it and finally agreed. Natasha smiled and nodded. They both stood up and grabbed hands as they ran off. Before they left the room, Natasha "borrows" a bottle of champagne and two glasses before leaving the room with Y/n in tow.

DONE.

Hope you enjoyed reading.. This was kind short but oh well.. loll.

[iamtheredwrath]

The noddle shop

word count - 885

Hello welcome, this is my first short story break while I'm writing my novel. My best friend gives me prompts to write so I don't become bored or have writers block. Im hoping to use my tumblr page as a way to show what my writing journey looks likes. So please be kind and feedback would be lovely.

Again. 

It had been awhile since i've been to this part of the town. Years in fact the old asians man that ran the shop had let me in. Quietly sweeping, cleaning up bowls and just looking at how peaceful it is to be here. Aware that I didn’t have to clean up. This isn't even my shop or that I work here. It's just nice. The girl that was closing had two kids under the age of five or so.

This place used to be a restaurant years ago in the 50’s and 60’s I had said to the young girl, or what I had meant to say was that it had been.

Our’s.   

My husband  and I couldn't keep up with everything. Then the small town grew over our heads. We got bought out then it was turned into a book shop, then it was a sex shop, a weed shop ect. Until one day I stop counting. It was really something you know I had told the owners every time I came to say hello i’d bring a tin of chocolate chip cookies greet them and walk away. It didn't always go well. Sometimes it was good luck these cookies brought and others bad. 

The shop then laid un rented for years and my husband got worse. Money was not the problem, it was the fact that she is lonely. 

She watched as the warm and funny and sometimes sweet husband was fading so she could no longer care for him. Somedays remembering how they had painted their  home light blue or the fact that he had always loved to cook or the fact that on their first date she had drawn the design on the back of a nacking and how sweet he had been to her. 

The love they had was all that she needed, it being the one thing that kept over the years how strong that it was.

 When world war two just began they had moved to Australia and were setting up their lives, how scary it had been. Her husband had been drafted and she was as well. The day before her love had left he gave her a knife to hide on her person because he  was worried that something would happen. It happened to be a good thing that he did. But that is a different story. She called thoses the dark years. When they reunited it was really happy together they bought a place that was small and could be a small restaurant. At first it was a struggle, then they had gotten better at customs and they had opened a bar as well. It was a peaceful life, well her partner having kids was a part of that. she  had wished for.

It never came.. 

Sitting down in the noodle shop, crying, reminiscing about happier times. She was becoming more alone, the shop had been closed for hours.. Does it matter she thought to herself cleaning and just sitting there unwilling to move not sure what she should do maybe she should go home? Or…  no why would she bother with that one.. Driving around the city  could work instead.  Sighing, she got up, locked the door and left the shop. 

Looking around the city as she drove, all she could see was where she and her husbend went and the membery that came with that. 

It was a lonely but peaceful sight, the lights of the city and neon signs. The song playing on the radio was their wedding song. Tears sliding down her cheeks…

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“MA’AM, CAN YOU HEAR ME.”  the voice asked. 

I  tried to answer but could’nt speak. It was hard to move, hands were pulling me  down. Out of my  body, the feeling of it made my skin crawl, what happened. Oh…

I crashed my  car. The car so that must mean that I'm dead or  slowly dying.

-------------------------------------------

“Clear.”

“Clearing, sir, she's not responding.” the paramedic replied. 

“Clear again.” the small paramedic yelled back 

“ Ma’am please if you can hear us please hang in there.”   the 2nd paramedic said.

“ She’s back.”

“ Great, get her in the back.”

“ Yes sir.” 

-------------------------------------------

The doors had  shut behind me . 

Everything felt weird out of body hands pushing  me  down and shoved me  backup like water at the beach, the slients cold and uncaring. This isn't making any sense it should’nt feel like this water or flooding around my  body. Then it hit me. I’m  stuck, somewheres in between. It should’nt be like this: why am I not dead or alive, awake and  walking or in a bed. But instad  Im in water cold and  the darkness that lays all around my body, floating in the uncaring water after almost drowning was weird but feeling hands shoving me  up was weirder. 

 Water was coming out from my  lungs and being around in the cold water and the creepyness of the darkness, the weight of it keeping me  unable to move or me able to start trying to get out or fight or even to swim was’nt working. Was  I  in a coma? 

That would make sense maybe. 

I miss my husbend but he is not with me anymore. 

Am I ready to live on my own though?..

[mylutteoheart]

Playing Cupid (chapter 9)

And finally a new unedited chapter. I'm sorry it took so long. The edited version of this one will be posted on ao3 tomorrow. I'm determined to finally finish this so expect updates every 2 weeks from now on. I don't know how many chapters are left but things are finally happening with gastina in this chapter. Also, at the end I was inspired by a certain creddie scene in the icarly revival so if you've seen the last episode of the show, you might recognize it. Luna and Matteo have been building their lives together slowly. Fresh out of college, they’re planning their future. But by planning this, they have an underlying plan no one knows of. Bringing their best friends together after 4 years of not being happy without the other. How well will their plan of playing Cupid work?

Prologue | chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 | find my other fics here

Chapter 9: A Bump in the Road

This was a bad idea, Nina knew it but she had to go through with it. She promised Luna to spend the day finishing up the details for the wedding. Gastón would help and that's the part that made her the most nervous.

They decided to meet at the Jam & Roller. Being in a public place might make this meeting less nerve-wracking. Plus, Luna was closeby, training for the next skating competition with the team. If they needed help with anything, she could be here soon.

"Hey, sorry, I'm late. I was discussing some details with Matteo about the duet we're doing," Gastón said in a way of greeting.

"I heard about that, Luna said Matteo was very excited about this," Nina answered, "He's really happy you're back."

"Me too, I have to admit that I missed Buenos Aires. England isn't quite the same," Gastón said quietly.

Nina smiled and answered: "I imagine so."

Gastón felt the awkwardness and changed the subject even though he wanted to say so much more.

"So what do we have to do today?" he asked.

"Well, Luna and Matteo have everything booked and sorted out. We just need to check that the things they ordered will be delivered on time," she said as she looked through all the papers with all the orders on them, "We have to make some phone calls then."

Gastón nodded in answer and said: "Sounds easy enough. What's their wedding date again? I want to make sure I get it right."

"It's exactly 4 weeks from now," Nina looked down at the date.

"Then we better hope everything is okay because arranging anything on such short notice would be impossible."

"Let's get started then."

That's what they did, for the next few hours, they make phone call after phone call. Nina was relieved to know that everything was going smoothly so far. With something else to focus on, there wasn't any awkwardness between them. But sooner or later, they'll have to have a serious talk.

***

"Are you sure this is true?," Gastón asked the lady on the phone.

"I'm afraid so, the venue was destroyed by a heavy storm. We can't repair it in time," the owner of the venue answered patiently.

"Is there any alternative?" he asked a little panicked and turned around to look at Nina to show how he felt.

"If there is, I'm afraid you need to find it yourself. We have to put all our resources in the repair of the venue."

"Alright, we'll have to find something then, thank you," he answered, disappointed.

"What's wrong?" Nina asked, clearly in panic.

"We have to find a new venue," he sighed. Feeling hopeless this problem will be solved.

***

"Finding a new venue on such short notice is going to be impossible. We're never going to find the perfect place again. How on earth will we pull this off when we don't even have time to breathe until the wedding?" Luna said exasperated, pacing back and forth in the locker room.

Nina and Gastón stood near the counter, looking worriedly at their friend while Matteo is rubbing his neck. He clearly didn't like seeing his fiancée in distress.

He gently took her hand when she waved with them and pulled her in for a hug.

"I know this wedding is stressfull, chica delivery. It doesn't help the skating competition is close but just take a breath. We can solve this, I just need you to calm down," Matteo said while rubbing her back in soothing circles.

Her shoulder fell at his words and she started to relax.

"Okay, we can do this. No worries, it's going to be fine," Luna said to no one in particular.

"Listen, you don't have to worry, okay? Gastón and I will take care of this. We'll find the perfect venue for you. We're your best friends, we know you two well enough to know where you'd like to get married. Leave it up to us to find a better location," Nina interrupted. Wanting to help her friends as much as possible.

"We will do this?" Gastón said surprised.

"Yes, we will. We can definitely do this," she answered confidently.

Luna leaves Matteo's arms to give Nina a bone crushing hug and said: "Thank you so much, Nina. That means the world to us."

When they pull apart, Matteo lays a hand around her waist and said: "Yes, thank you. I know we made the right choice when we chose you to be in the wedding."

"I don't want you to regret it," Nina just said with a shy smile.

Gastón didn't answer, he just stood there frozen. Looking for a venue for a wedding could imply so much. It could bring his feelings to the surface due to all the romance that comes with wedding shopping. This day isn't going to be as easy as he thought.

"We should get started as soon as possible, I'll go get my computer to check out some locations," Nina said, "Gastón, are you coming?" 

She looked up at him and he just nodded. She was waiting for him to come.

"Do you mind if I talk to Gastón first?" Matteo interrupted and put a hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"Sure, I'll get started without you then," Nina answered and left the room.

"I should meet up with the team to discuss some things," Luna excused herself and left the room as well.

"Are you sure you're okay with doing this? You'll be spending a lot of time with Nina this way," Matteo asked.

"I am. Of course I'm nervous about this, I know my feelings will surface but that just might be the push I need to really talk to Nina," Gastón said, confident.

"If you're sure, I trust you know what you're doing," Matteo said with a smile, "I should get back to Luna, make sure she's okay."

***

"Okay, so we have a few location sightings lined up for today. It wasn't easy to find many locations available that day but I think we managed just fine," Nina said, looking down at the list of venues they made together.

"It's mostly because of you. We wouldn't have found so many without you," Gastón smiled at her.

Nina looked down, trying to hide her blush.

"We should get started right away," it was all she said.

So they did, they planned to visit 5 locations today and they couldn't find a good one until they arrived to the last one. It was next to the Japanese garden that Luna and Matteo knew all too well.

"This was one became available at the last minute," Gastón said while looking around.

They had a great view of the stream with the red bridge over it.

Nina looked around in awe and said: "This looks beautiful."

"Yeah, it's magical," he said while looking at Nina.

"I can already see it. Right here," she said as she stepped near the edge of the grass the place where the best view of the stream is, "Matteo and Luna should say 'I do' right here. It's a perfect place. I can already see it. It would complete the circle."

"Yeah, it couldn't be more perfect," he smiled at her enthusiasm.

"Imagine this...," she said and took his hand so he could stand right in front of her.

He was surprised by her sudden touch and felt the warmth radiating of off her. He reluctantly let go and put both his hands in his pockets to avoid giving in to his want to touch her again.

"The bride and groom standing here, face to face. Both radiating with happiness. It would be so romantic. They'll start their life together right here. Matteo saying I never expected to fall for you, you came out of nowhere. Then Luna would say she can't wait to spend the rest of her life with him," she said with a faraway look on her face.

Gastón could do nothing but stare at her. While saying all of this, he was imagining them standing here. Her walking down the aisle.

When Nina opened her eyes, she saw him staring right at her and she said breathless: "Isn't that romantic?"

"It truly is," he said quietly and looked down at her lips. 

She noticed where his eyes landed and started leaning in.

[whyispotatoheadalreadytaken]

I went home on Sunday to see my family because I haven’t seen them in weeks. The last time I went home, I helped my mom plant rhubarb. She's been giving me updates every so often, like "it has a leaf!", "it has three leaves!", "it has Sox leaves!" Which is cute. So, I went home yesterday and brought the PS4 to download the Spiderman games now that I've finished out the last of us. So, we were downstairs with Sean for a bit, and I decided to go upstairs to chat with my mom. So, we make our way upstairs, and I round the corner into the living room when I hear my dad. I immediately stop and rethink if I want to go upstairs. Then he says this"

"Studies show that suicide rates among the LGBTQ community rise when they are not accepted by society - shut the fuck up, nobody cares, they are not treated any differently."

I went into tunnel vision and looked up at Zoë who looks as though she's about to murder someone. I back up and quietly go around the corner. Step by step, I just feel defeated.

Not treated any differently? Then why didn't you come to my wedding?

"We should go back up and set the record straight."

"There's no point, Zoë. You can't reason with a narcissist."

"If we don't tackle it in the moment, he'll keep saying he's never homophobic or doesn't treat you differently. What he just said, is so messed up on so many levels-"

"I know it is but this has been my entire life and he's not about to change just because we point it out. He'll dig his heels in because he can't ever be wrong."

"I'm just tired of you making excuses for his behavior. I get it. I'm just trying to stand up for you."

"I know. I'm sorry you had to hear it, too. But that is just the way it is around here."

Later on, Sean opened a video on Instagram that said, "In 2023, scientists have made a groundbreaking discovery that you're gay." Or something like that, and he laughed about it. I thought Zoë was gonna lose it, so I told him we were gonna grab some food, a game, and that we'd be back. So, we went home and had some leftovers, and I went upstairs and grabbed The Last of Us 2. When we got back, I handed the game to Sean, who gave me a face about it.

"Look, we're gonna be here a while and I know how you feel about the big conflict at the beginning of this game, but you can't say that The Last of Us is one of your favorite stories if you haven't walked through part 2 with Ellie. So, let's play until we get through the big bad thing together."

"Why can't the end of the first game just be the ending? That they lived happily ever after??"

"Sean! Ellie isn't an idiot! She knows Joel is lying to her! Yeah, it's easier if we just keep pretending. It's easier when we want to avoid relational ruptures, but that isn't how life works."

"Niamh, if you have me start this game, you won't get the Playstation back for a while."

"That's okay. I didn't come here solely to download these games. I don't need them right away, especially this week. I work tomorrow and then I'll be out of town for two days. Now is the best time for you to play through this."

So, we started the game. The intro, paired with the music, immediately makes my throat tight. I stay glued to the screen. There is something sacred about the very beginning of the game for me. The game eventually opens with one of Ellie's best friends debriefing the events from a dance that took place the night before.

Jesse: Let me see if I got this right: you kissed Dina--

Ellie: She kissed me.

Jesse: Which triggered Seth to call you a… not-so-nice word…

Ellie: Yep.

Jesse: Then Joel decked him--

Ellie: More of a push.

Jesse: And then you got mad at Joel? That part confused me.

Ellie: It was a strange night, man.

Later on, Jesse brings Ellie to visit Maria (basically her adoptive aunt and a leader in the town of Jackson)

MARIA: Seth has something he wants to say to you.

ELLIE: I don’t want to hear what that bigot has to say.

MARIA: Do it for me. Please.

Seth gives a half-assed apology and gives Ellie sandwiches for her patrol with Dina

JESSE: What have you got there?

ELLIE: Bigot sandwiches.

JESSE: Mhm. Smells good.

ELLIE: They’re yours.

Later on, we get to watch a small scene with Ellie and Dina making out. After that, there's a perspective change. Once that perspective change takes place, we go back to Ellie and Dina in their underwear while they take turns explaining scars thar they have.

So, that felt like a giant win for me. We highlight what bigotry is, that half-assed apologies aren't enough, and then get to see them make out for a hot sec.

I'm just so tired of fighting my family. It just really got to me and pushed my anxiety to the max. My hypervigilance was as if I was 14 again. I can still tell who is coming down the stairs from the basement. It's terrible. I just had to get out of my head and remember that I have my own home, family, and I'm not a helpless 14 year old anymore.

[cassandrabaresi]

Emperor Yongzheng's First Nine Kings Seize the Throne

By the time everyone looked, Chuang Tzu was already near, and the setting sun had already set. It was the time to make dinner, but it was very strange. In such a large town, tYin Zhen and others behind him. He nodded and said, "It used to be Jiangxia Town.". Our master Liu bought to do Zhuangyuan, now is Liu house. Two hundred miles around. Who doesn't know? Are you afraid of being from other places? Yin Zhen can not help but be stunned, Yin Xiang was also taken aback, good darling, this town is comparable to a medium-sized county, how much money to buy? But at a glance, they knew that they were not lying. A small half of the main street had been demolished, scaffolding was tied up to build the main house gate tower, and a large area of houses in the east had been destroyed. Rows of tall houses were dark, much like newly built warehouses. Not far in front of the gate tower,cherry blossom wedding centerpiece, there were wooden poles with "dead wind" lamps hanging on them. Some of these Zhuangding were holding fire folds, and some were carrying sticks. Looks like he's here to light the patrol. Yin Xiang couldn't help exclaiming, "What a good trend!"! Please tell the Villa Leader that we are the filial piety and honest people who are driving to the north. We have lost our way. It's already dark now. We'll borrow the precious land of Baozhuang for a night's rest and go on our way tomorrow morning. "Listen to what he said," said the first man with a smile. "Tell us to tell the Villa Leader that we are all guarding the Villa in the outer courtyard. How many floors are there from Master Liu's second steward! As I said, don't bother with this as early as possible. There is a dry shop in Shilipu to the north. It's an official road all the way. It's just right to walk in the cool night. I won't miss dinner when I get there. "Chief Wang," said one of the villagers next to him, "there are a few white-faced scholars. There are many empty houses in the north of the village. No matter where they stay for a night at random, it's a shame." "You're not sensible," said the king. The second uncle of Uncle Ren in Beijing came with a group of Suzhou girls. It was so hot that it was inconvenient to come and go. The master's temper was so bad that we could afford it? Even they will suffer losses. Isn't that kind of me? As they were talking, Kaner slipped into the crowd without a word and quietly stuffed a bag into one of Zhuangding's hands. The man pinched it with his hand. It was a copper. He stepped forward and said with a smile, "Well!"! Wang Tou'er, just let people take a few days, so loyal to protect the country? As I said, silk ficus tree ,fake ficus tree, who walks with a house on his back? There are two rooms in the old cemetery of the Zhang family in the northwest of the village. Let them live in them. As soon as the gate is closed, they are outside the village. What's the matter wthe courtyard, and behind me is the old grave of the Zhang family. The crowd understood and filed in. To the northeast corner of the door, the old king shook his head and asked for the key to open the door. With a wave of his hand, Yin Zhen was the first to come out, and then Gao Fuer, the dog Kaner, also went out of the door. "Look," said Lao Wang Tou, "there are two rooms over there,outdoor ficus tree, where the grave-keepers used to live. There are straw mats in them, and they are fairly clean. There are many of you, and you are not afraid of ghosts. 。 hacartificialtree.com