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footballfanficwriter · 3 months

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Hi!!!! I love ur work!!!! So watching bridgerton has inspired me a lot!! So imagine Jude and reader in regency era!! Like them maybe meeting at a ball at first, then they slowly start to court each other, fall in love etc! u can add ur own twist and spice and work ur magic!!!!!

Love's Redemption

A/n: I wanted to release this the day after of Season 3 pt2 and It's quite long, longer than my others but I hope you enjoy, pls comment at the end

The grand ballroom of Hartfield Hall sparkled with opulence. Crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over the assembled guests, their jewels glittering in the soft light. Ladies in resplendent gowns of silk and satin whispered behind their fans, and gentlemen in finely tailored tailcoats stood in small clusters, discussing the latest gossip or political intrigue.

Among these elite, Jude Bellingham, a young and dashing duke, stood out with his broad shoulders and an air of confidence that turned heads wherever he went. Despite his high status, his demeanor was approachable, his smile disarming, and his dark eyes keenly observant.

On the opposite side of the ballroom, I stood with my family, feeling slightly out of place amidst the grandeur. My dress, though beautiful, was simpler than most, a testament to my family's modest means compared to the aristocracy surrounding us. However, I held myself with a quiet dignity that I hoped would draw admiration from those who took the time to observe.

As the evening progressed, the time came for the first dance, and the Master of Ceremonies called for partners. The Duke of Ross's eyes scanned the room, finally settling on me. There was a spark of curiosity and recognition in his gaze but I quickly averted my eyes.

With a determined stride, The Duke made his way across the room, bowing slightly as he reached me t'was not until he was right in front that I noticed his presence as I was conversing with my Brother "May I have the honor of this dance?" he asked, his voice smooth and inviting.

I felt a flutter in my chest but managed a composed smile as I accepted his hand. "It would be my pleasure, Your Grace."

The two of us moved gracefully onto the dance floor, and as the music swelled, we began to waltz. The world seemed to fade away, and for those few minutes, it felt as though the duke and I were the only two people in the room. His touch was gentle, his movements confident, and I found myself drawn to him in a way I couldn't quite explain.

After the dance, he led me to the refreshment table, where we engaged in conversation. We spoke of our interests, our families, and our dreams, and he listened intently. The evening passed in a whirlwind of dances and conversations, and by the end of the night, I knew I wanted to see him again.

The next day I break my fast in the drawing room with a copy of Lady Wistledown

"Ladies and gentlemen of the ton it seems as though we have a new arrival in town the young Duke of Ross Jude Victor William Bellingham has come to take over his estate and claim his inheritance, he made his first appearance last night at Lady Danbury's first ball of the season, which was exquisite to say the least

The young Duke immediately caught the eyes of the Young ladies and their Mammas as they fought over his attention but it seemed he already had his eye on another, young Lady Y/n Berth, who was conversing with her brother at the time, did not seem to notice the Duke when he approached

As he asked for a dance she gracefully accepted and they took to the dance floor staring intently into each other's eyes as if they had been longing to find one another for a long time

The whole Ton had their eyes on them as they danced and Waltz on the dance floor so elegantly

Could this be the couple of the season or is it far to early to tell, one things is definitely for certain, they make a beautiful couple"

I smile at the paper remember and thinking about the events of the previous night how he held me, how softly he spoke when adressing me, when he refused to let my hand go after I tried to pull away, his grip gently tightening on my hand, as a silent plead to not let go, how he was so polite and kind towards me, the way we spoke about many things that we related to and how easy it was for the both of us to converse about many things

"Good morning My Darling, are you well?"

"Oh mamma, I am far from well I am splendid" I say smiling

"Am I correct to assume that you feel this way because of a certain Handsome Duke"

"Well mother your assumptions are quite correct, I cannot get him out of my mind, he is all I think about"

"Be careful now dear, you have only just met the Duke, get to know the person he is first before making any confessions"

"Of course Mamma"

Over the following weeks, Jude made every effort to court me. He sent me flowers, invited me for walks in the gardens of his estate, and attended every social event where he knew I would be present. With each meeting, I found myself falling for him a little more, charmed by his sincerity and kindness.

One sunny afternoon, as we strolled through the blooming rose garden at Hartfield Hall, Jude paused and turned to me, taking my hands in his. "I know we have not known each other for long, but I feel as though I have known you forever," he said, his voice filled with earnest emotion and got down on one knee. "You have captured my heart completely, and I cannot imagine my life without you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

I nodded, unable to find the words to express my happiness. "Yes, Jude. Yes, I will."

Lady whistledown

Dearest reader as it seems that as of this Afternoon the Duke of Ross has taken a bride, During the early hours of the Afternoon The Duke of Ross proposed to Miss Y/n Berth and she has accepted, the two were having an afternoon stroll when the Duke suddenly stopped walking and got down on one knee I would assume that he spoke a heart felt of words as it was a happy moment for the two, we congratulate the happy couple and wish them all the best

The wedding was a grand affair, attended by all of high society, hosted by Lady Danbury as she insisted that she wanted to be the one to host it, and who were we to decline such a gift, Jude and I were happy throughout the day and we could not take our eyes of each other amidst the splendor and celebration, the most important thing was the love between Jude and I.

The first few months of our marriage were blissful. We traveled, hosted dinners, and enjoyed the admiration of our peers. However, as time passed, whispers began to reach my ears. Gossip of Jude's past indiscretions and rumors of a former lover began to circulate.

One evening, at a particularly opulent ball, I noticed a strikingly beautiful woman across the room. Her eyes were fixed on Jude, and there was a familiarity in her gaze that sent a shiver down my spine. I approached Jude, intending to ask him about her, but before I could speak, she made her way over to us.

"Jude," she said, her voice dripping with confidence and a hint of malice. "It has been too long."

Jude's eyes grew bigger , and he took a step back. "Lady Laura" he said, his voice strained. "What are you doing here?"

Lady Laura smiled, a predator's smile. "I simply had to see the woman who captured your heart so completely."

I stood there, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach. "Jude, who is she?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jude hesitated, his eyes filled with guilt. "She is... an old acquaintance," he said, but I could tell there was more to the story.

As the weeks went by, the tension between Jude and I grew. The whispers of scandal became louder, and I felt the weight of society's judgment. I confronted Jude one evening in the privacy of our home.

"Jude, you must tell me the truth about Lady Laura," I demanded, my voice trembling with frustration.

He sighed, rubbing his face with both his hands. "She was... she was my lover before I met you," he admitted. "I ended things with her when I realized I loved you, but she has not taken it well."

I felt a pang of betrayal. "Why did you not tell me?"

"I wanted to protect you from the scandal," he said, his eyes pleading. "I did not want our love to be tainted by my past mistakes."

Despite his words, the doubt lingered in my heart. The rumors continued to swirl, and Lady Laura's presence became a constant reminder of Jude's past. It was not long before a particularly vicious piece of gossip reached my ears: a letter, supposedly from Jude to Laura professing his undying love and regret over their separation.

I confronted Jude with the letter, my heart aching. Walking to our shared chambers and enter the room

"Jude is this tru-"

Rather then seeing my husband reading in bed like he usually is I find him on my vanity with Laura, shirtless and Laura half dressed in nothing but her under garments

They quickly jump and let go of eachother

"I should have listened to mother" I say and walk out and pack my things in a haste

"Darling, please listen"

"Leave me"

"Just listen"

"I cannot stand the sight of you right now"

I leave in the carriage and go to my mother's house

When I arrive I tell my mother everything that happened, Laura's arrival, the letter and what I saw them doing and her face hardens and she tells me that I can stay for as long as I wish

3 days later

I'm sitting in my room reading a copy of Lady whistledown

"I am here to see my wife" I hear just outside the window

It's him, I slightly peak my head just enough to see him

His hair is a mess, he's in nothing but an untied shirt that slightly shows his chest and trousers

"Apologies your grace but we have been given strict orders not to let you through" I hear one of the guards say

"By who?"

"Miss Y/n Berth"

"That is not her name, her name is y/n Bellingham the Duchess of Ross and she is my wife"

He fights his way past the guards and makes it through into the house

"Where is she"

"Where is my wife"

I slightly walk down the stairs just to see the encounter but making sure I am not seen

"What is the meaning of this" my mother asks as she approaches Jude

"I need to see her"

"She needs time" she replies firmly

"I have given her time, I have given her 3 days"

"Give her more then"

"Please I need to see her"

My mother pulls out a portrait of me from her pocket and shows it to Jude

"There you have seen her, now take your leave"

"I refuse to leave without seeing her, I want her to tell me as she looks at me that she does not wish to see me, then and only then will I take my leave" he says with tears in his eyes

"My goodness"mother says

I walk further down the stairs

"Tis alright mother I shall converse with him" I say

"Very well but I will still be in the room as a chaperone"

"She is my wife, I do not need a chaperone when I am with her"

mother is about to protest when I reasure her

"Mamma I will handle this"

She leaves the room and for a moment I feel sorry for Jude

"My love, oh how I have missed you" he says walking towards me but I step back and that stops him from walking

As Jude's silent plea echoed through the room, I stood there, my heart torn between love and betrayal. His disheveled appearance, the anguish in his eyes—it was almost enough to make me reconsider. But then I remembered the letter, the damning evidence of his infidelity, and my resolve hardened once more.

"What is it that you want?" I asked, my voice cold and distant, betraying none of the turmoil raging within me.

Jude took a step towards me, his expression pleading. "I want to explain, to make things right between the both of us," he said, his voice trembling with emotion.

I held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. "Explain what, Jude?" I demanded, my voice tinged with bitterness. "That you were caught with Laura in our chambers, half-dressed and shameless? That you wrote her a letter professing your undying love, while your own wife lay in bed, oblivious to your deceit?"

Jude's eyes widened in shock, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly as he searched for words. But before he could respond, I continued, my voice growing stronger with each passing moment.

"I trusted you, Jude," I said, my voice trembling with anger. "I believed in our love, in the promises we made to each other. But you betrayed that trust, in the most hurtful way possible."

Tears welled up in Jude's eyes, his hands reaching out to me, but I stepped back, out of his reach. "I cannot forgive you, Jude," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Not now, not ever."

As Jude's tear-filled eyes pleaded with me for understanding, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. But sympathy could not erase the hurt, the betrayal that had cut me to the core.

"What of the both of us?" Jude whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "What of our life together?"

I met his gaze with a steely resolve, my heart hardening against the pain. "There is no 'both of us" anylonger" I replied, my voice cold and distant. "Not after what you have done."

Jude's shoulders slumped, his heart breaking before my eyes. "But where will you go?" he asked, desperation creeping into his voice. "What will people say if they are to find that my wife is living with her mother?"

I sighed, knowing that there was no easy answer to his question. "I will return home in two days time," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "And when I arrive, you will not refer to me as your wife. The only time we will play the role of husband and wife is when we are in public. Behind closed doors, we are merely people who stay together, nothing more you shall not disturb my peace and I shall do the same, you are free to seek solace in anyone in the ton, you have already been unfaithful, you might as well continue the streak."

Jude's eyes widened in shock, his heart breaking all over again. "But what about children?" he asked, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "Who will bear the children, make the heir?"

I met his gaze head-on, my resolve unwavering. "Take a second wife" I said, my voice cold and distant. "Someone who is willing to bear your children, to fulfill the duties of a wife. I have no desire to bear your children, to be tied to you in such a way."

Jude's face fell, his dreams of a family shattered beyond repair. "But what about your dream?" he asked, his voice filled with desperation. "To be a mother, to care for our children, to love them wholeheartedly?"

I shook my head, a bitter smile playing on my lips. "That dream will never be fulfilled" I said, my voice hollow with grief. "I have come to terms with that fact."

Jude's eyes filled with tears, his heart breaking at my words. "But would you treat my children badly, with hatred?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

I met his gaze with a steely resolve. "No, Jude," I replied, my voice cold and distant. "I cannot punish innocent children for the decisions their parents made."

With that, Jude wiped his red eyes and turned away, his heart heavy with regret. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible as he made his way to the door.

The minute he closed the door behind him, leaving me alone with my shattered dreams and broken heart, my facade crumbled, and I collapsed to the floor, tears streaming down my cheeks as I mourned the loss of the life I had once known.

2 days later

Two days later, as I returned home, the air was thick with tension, the weight of our fractured relationship hanging heavy in the air. Jude awaited me in the grand foyer, his posture stiff and formal as he greeted me with a curt nod.

"Your Grace," he said, his voice cold and distant, the warmth that had once filled his words replaced by an icy reserve.

"Your Grace," I replied, my own voice tinged with bitterness as I returned his greeting with equal formality.

For a moment, we stood there, two strangers in the grand expanse of our once-happy home, the silence stretching between us like a chasm too vast to bridge. I could see the longing in Jude's eyes, the desire to reach out to me, to hold me close and make everything right again. But he held himself back, the weight of our past mistakes too heavy to bear.

With a sigh, I turned away, making my way up the grand staircase and down the hallway towards my chambers. But before I could disappear behind closed doors, Jude's voice cut through the silence like a knife.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice filled with uncertainty.

I paused, turning to face him with a cold stare. "To my chambers," I replied, my voice laced with bitterness.

Jude frowned, confusion clouding his features. "But your chambers are this way," he said, gesturing towards the hallway that led to our shared bedroom.

I shook my head, a bitter smile playing on my lips. "No, Jude," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Your chambers are that way. Mine are this way."

Jude's eyes widened in realization, the truth of my words hitting him like a blow to the chest. "You did not think I would go back there," I continued, my voice filled with venom, "after the events that took place in those chambers."

With that, I turned and walked away, leaving Jude standing there in the hallway, his heart heavy with regret. And though I knew that our relationship was beyond repair, a part of me couldn't help but wonder what might have been if things had been different. But as I disappeared behind closed doors, the weight of my decision settling over me like a shroud, I knew that there was no going back, no undoing the damage that had been done.

The following day I received an invitation from Lady Laura for tea, after receiving the invitation from Laura, I hesitated for a moment, feeling a knot of unease tighten in my stomach. The thought of facing her again, of enduring her taunts and jibes, filled me with dread. But curiosity, and perhaps a hint of defiance, won out in the end, and I found myself making the journey to her estate.

As the carriage got in front fo the grand mansion, my apprehension grew. The imposing gates swung open with a creak, and I stepped out of the carriage, steeling myself for what lay ahead. The servants greeted me with forced smiles as they ushered me inside, but their eyes betrayed a sense of apprehension, as though they knew what awaited me within those walls.

Laura was waiting for me in the drawing-room, a triumphant smile playing on her lips as she greeted me with false warmth. "Ah, Duchess, how lovely of you to join me," she purred, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Do come in and make yourself comfortable."

I forced a polite smile, though every fiber of my being longed to turn and flee. "Thank you, Lady Laura," I replied, my tone carefully neutral as I took a seat opposite her.

As the servants brought in tea and refreshments, Laura wasted no time in getting to the point. "I'm sure you're wondering why I invited you here today," she began, her eyes glittering with malice.

I arched an eyebrow, though inwardly I braced myself for whatever barb she was about to unleash. "I must admit, the thought had crossed my mind," I replied coolly.

Laura's smile widened, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "You see, Duchess, I believe in honesty above all else," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "So I will not mince words. I invited you here today to gloat, to revel in the knowledge that I have won."

I felt a surge of anger rise within me, but I forced myself to remain composed. "Won what, exactly?" I asked, though I already had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Laura leaned forward, her eyes locked on mine with a chilling intensity. "I heard your footsteps approaching the chambers that day, Duchess," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "I had known you were coming, and I saw an opportunity to secure my place by Jude's side once and for all."

I felt my eyes grow bigger as her words sank in. "You... you threw yourself at him?" I whispered, unable to conceal the horror in my voice.

Laura's smile turned into a smirk, devoid of any remorse. "Oh, please, Duchess, spare me your shock and indignation," she said dismissively. "You may have had his heart once, but now it belongs to me. And there's nothing you can do to change that."

Her words were like a dagger to my heart, each one twisting deeper than the last. But amidst the pain and betrayal, a fire ignited within me—a determination to fight for the man I loved, no matter the cost. With a steely resolve, I met Laura's gaze head-on, refusing to let her see the depth of my pain.

"Is that so, Lady Laura?" I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside me. "Well, forgive me if I refuse to accept defeat so easily. Love is not a game to be won or lost—it is a bond that transcends time and circumstance. And mark my words, I will fight for Jude with every breath in my body, until the day I draw my last."

With that, I rose from my seat, every inch the proud Duchess, and made my exit, leaving Laura to stew in her own malice. Though the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and heartache, I knew one thing for certain: I would not rest until Jude was mine once again, body and soul.

As I raced home to find Jude, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling of uncertainty gnawing at my soul. Every step felt like an eternity as I hurried through the grand halls of our estate, my mind consumed with thoughts of what awaited me at the end of my journey.

"Where is my husband?" I demanded, my voice tinged with panic, as I interrogated servants and guards alike in search of any sign of Jude's whereabouts.

But no one had seen him, and my anxiety only grew with each passing moment. It wasn't until a guard reluctantly approached me, his expression grim, that I finally received the news I had been dreading.

"Your Grace," he began, his voice hesitant, "Lord Bellingham has left the estate. He... he said he would return in a week's time."

My heart sank like a stone, the weight of his absence crushing me with its finality. But amidst the despair, a flicker of determination burned within me—a resolve to find Jude and make things right, no matter the cost.

With a steadying breath, I turned on my heel and made my way to my chambers, my mind racing with thoughts of how to reach him, how to let him know that I forgave him, that I still loved him despite everything that had transpired between us.

As I sank into a chair, my hands trembling with emotion, I couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency coursing through my veins. I needed to find Jude, to make him understand that I was willing to start anew, to rebuild what we had lost.

But as the days stretched on without any sign of his return, the weight of his absence bore down on me like a heavy burden. And though I longed to reach out to him, to let him know that I forgave him, that I wanted to begin again, I knew that time was running out.

With a heavy heart, I penned a letter to Jude, pouring out my thoughts and feelings in words that I hoped would reach him wherever he was. I begged him to come back to me, to give our love a second chance, to believe in the power of redemption.

But as the days went , and still there was no sign of him, I couldn't help but wonder if our love was truly strong enough to withstand the trials that fate had thrown our way. And though a part of me clung to the hope that Jude would return to me, I couldn't shake the nagging fear that our love had been lost to the winds of time.

A week later, the anticipation of Jude's return had me on edge. I had rehearsed my words countless times, determined to convey my forgiveness and my willingness to start anew. When the door to the drawing room opened, and Jude walked in, my heart leaped with a mix of hope and trepidation.

"Jude!" I exclaimed, standing up quickly, a genuine smile spreading across my face. "I have something to tell you—"

But his demeanor was somber, his eyes avoiding mine. His lack of enthusiasm made my heart sink.

"Your Grace," he interrupted quietly, his voice laden with resignation, "I have something to tell you as well."

I paused, my smile faltering as I searched his face for any sign of the man I had fallen in love with, the man I hoped to rekindle a life with.

"I will be taking Lady Laura as my second wife," he continued, each word like a dagger to my heart. "She will be the mother of my children."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis as his words sank in. I felt a cold wave of shock wash over me, my smile fading into an expression of disbelief.

At that moment, Laura entered the room, her smug smile widening as she took in the scene. The sight of her, with her triumphant air, made my blood boil, but I forced myself to remain composed.

"Oh, how lovely that will be for the both of you," I said, my voice strained but controlled. I managed a brittle smile, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing my pain.

With that, I returned to my seat and picked up my sketchbook, my fingers trembling slightly as I resumed my drawing. The lines I had been so carefully crafting now seemed meaningless, the vibrant colors now dull and lifeless.

As I focused on my work, I felt Jude's eyes on me, but I refused to meet his gaze. The silence between us was heavy, fraught with unspoken words and lingering regrets. Laura's presence only intensified the tension, her smug smile a constant reminder of the betrayal that had shattered my world.

Yet, despite the turmoil raging within me, I forced myself to maintain my composure. I would not let Laura see the depth of my pain, nor would I let Jude see the cracks in my facade. In this new reality, I had to find strength in my resolve, even if it meant burying my true feelings deep within.

The weight of the silence in the drawing room was oppressive, the air thick with unresolved tension and unspoken words. Just as I resumed my drawing, the quiet was broken by the arrival of a servant, holding a fresh edition of Lady Whistledown’s society papers. He handed it to me with a respectful bow before quickly retreating from the room.

Curiosity piqued, I unfolded the paper, my eyes scanning the familiar, elegantly penned words:

Lady whistledown

"Dearest Readers, it appears that the Duke of Ross has been seen entering his estate with Lady Laura, raising many an eyebrow among the ton. This unexpected development has left society abuzz with speculation. Is the once enviable union between the Duke and Duchess of Ross in jeopardy? Lady Laura’s presence at the Duke’s side has led to whispers of a potential shift in the household’s dynamics. What could this mean for the Duchess, a woman known for her grace and poise amidst adversity?

Rumors suggest that Lady Laura has been remarkably bold in her pursuits, capitalizing on the Duchess’s recent absence. Could it be that the Duke, faced with mounting pressures to secure his lineage, has found solace in Lady Laura’s calculated charms? Or is this simply a ploy to stir the pot

One thing is certain: this scandal will be the talk of every salon and drawing-room from here to Grosvenor Square. And, as always, I shall be here to document every delicious detail for your reading pleasure. Stay tuned, dear readers, for the drama is only just beginning."

The words stung, each sentence a bitter reminder of my current predicament. I glanced up to see Jude’s reaction, but his face was inscrutable, a mask of controlled emotion. Laura, however, seemed to relish the attention, her smile growing even more smug.

"Well, it appears Lady Whistledown has taken quite an interest in our affairs," Laura said, her tone dripping with mock concern. "It must be difficult, Duchess, to see your private matters aired so publicly."

I met her gaze evenly, refusing to be baited. "It is indeed unfortunate, Lady Laura. But I have always believed that one’s actions speak louder than any words written on a page."

Laura's eyes flashed with irritation, but she quickly composed herself, a saccharine smile plastered on her face. "Of course, Duchess. And I’m sure your actions will be watched very closely by everyone in the ton."

I forced a smile in return. "As will yours, Lady Laura."

With that, I turned back to my sketchbook, determined to ignore her presence. Yet, I couldn't help but notice Jude watching me, a mixture of regret and longing in his eyes. His gaze lingered, but I refused to acknowledge it, focusing instead on the lines and colors before me.

The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity. Finally, Laura stood, her voice cutting through the tension. "If you’ll excuse me, I believe I shall take a tour of the gardens."

She left the room, her exit as dramatic as her entrance. I remained seated, my heart heavy with the weight of our fractured relationship. The reality of our situation had never felt more painfully clear.

"Your Grace," Jude said quietly, breaking the silence. "I—"

"There's nothing more to say, Jude," I interrupted, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "You've made your decision, and I must live with it."

He looked as if he wanted to say more, but I turned my attention back to my drawing, signaling the end of our conversation. The silence returned, thicker and more oppressive than before.

As the afternoon light waned, casting long shadows across the room, I knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and heartache. But I also knew that I would face it with dignity and strength, determined to reclaim my happiness, even if it meant forging a new path alone.

As the days passed, Laura's presence in the house became increasingly unbearable. Her taunts and jabs seemed endless, each one more cutting than the last. One afternoon, as I sat in the drawing room, trying to lose myself in a book, Laura sauntered in, her smug smile firmly in place.

"Ah, Duchess," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Still lost in your books, I see. How quaint."

I didn't look up, determined not to let her get under my skin. "Yes, Lady Laura, I find solace in literature. Something you might consider."

She ignored my comment, seating herself on a nearby chaise lounge, her eyes never leaving me. "You know," she began, her tone casual, "I've been thinking a lot about the future. About the Bellingham legacy."

I stiffened but refused to give her the satisfaction of a response.

"It's quite exciting, really," she continued, undeterred. "Jude and I have talked at length about it. The children we will have, the heirs to the Ross estate. I can already picture myself with a little one in my arms, the next Duke or Duchess of Ross."

Her words were a knife to my heart, but I kept my expression neutral, my eyes fixed on the pages of my book. "How lovely for you," I said flatly, turning a page with deliberate slowness.

Laura's smile widened, sensing my discomfort. "Indeed. It’s a great honor to bear the next Bellingham heir. I imagine it must be difficult for you, knowing that your own dreams of motherhood will never come to fruition."

I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening on the book. "My dreams are none of your concern, Lady Laura."

"Oh, but they are," she said, her eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "You see, I will be fulfilling the role you failed to. Jude deserves an heir, and I am more than capable of giving him one. It’s only a matter of time before the entire ton knows of our joyous news."

She placed a hand on her stomach, as if already envisioning herself with child. "Can you imagine? The entire town celebrating the announcement of our firstborn. Such a wonderful occasion it will be."

I forced myself to remain calm, though my heart was pounding in my chest. "Congratulations, Lady Laura. I wish you all the best."

Laura's smile faltered for a moment, as if my lack of visible reaction had disappointed her. "You’re very gracious, Duchess. But I can’t help but wonder how you truly feel, knowing that another woman will bear your husband’s children."

I finally looked up, meeting her gaze with cold detachment. "I feel nothing, Lady Laura. Your provocations are wasted on me."

She laughed, a brittle sound that echoed through the room. "We shall see, Duchess. We shall see."

Unable to endure any more of her taunts, I rose from my seat and made my way to the door. "If you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to."

As I walked down the hallway, the weight of Laura’s words pressed heavily on my heart. I didn't notice Jude until I nearly collided with him, his strong arms catching me just in time to prevent a fall. The proximity was startling; I could feel his breath against my skin, his eyes searching mine with a mixture of concern and longing.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice soft and earnest.

For a moment, the world seemed to pause, and the anger and hurt between us faded into the background. It would have been so easy to close the distance, to let myself fall into his arms and forget everything else. But the reality of our situation came crashing back, and I stepped away, breaking the spell.

"I’m fine," I said, my voice colder than I intended. "Please excuse me, Your Grace."

He looked as if he wanted to say more, but I turned and walked away, leaving him standing in the hallway, a silent witness to our fractured relationship.

A few days later:

In the bustling halls of Ross House, tensions simmered beneath the surface as Lady Laura's shrill voice echoed down the corridor. I followed the sound, my curiosity piqued, only to find her berating one of the maids for a trivial mishap.

"You imbecile!" Laura screeched, her face contorted with rage as she loomed over the trembling maid. "How dare you break my favorite vase? Do you have any idea how much it cost?"

Before I could intervene, the dutiful maid stammered out an apology, her eyes brimming with tears. "I-I'm sorry, my lady. It was an accident, I swear!"

But Laura was relentless, her tirade growing more vicious by the second. "You're nothing but a clumsy oaf! If it were up to me, I'd have you thrown out on the streets where you belong!"

Unable to stand by any longer, I stepped forward, my voice calm but firm. "That's enough, Lady Laura. It was just a vase. There's no need for such cruelty."

Laura's eyes flashed with fury as she turned her venomous gaze on me. "And who are you to speak to me like that? You're nothing but a lowly duchess, barely fit to lick the dirt from my shoes!"

Her words stung, but I refused to back down. "I may be a duchess, but I will not stand idly by while you mistreat those beneath you. Everyone deserves to be treated with dignity and respect, regardless of their station."

Before Laura could launch into another tirade, Jude's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "What's going on here?" he demanded, his brow furrowed with concern as he entered the room.

The dutiful maid seized the opportunity to explain, her voice trembling as she recounted the events leading up to Laura's outburst. Jude listened intently, his expression darkening with each passing moment.

When the maid had finished, Jude turned to me, his eyes filled with a mixture of disbelief and disappointment. "Is this true, Y/N? Did Lady Laura really behave in such a manner?"

I nodded, my heart heavy with sadness. "Yes, Jude. I'm afraid so. She was shouting at the maid for accidentally breaking her vase, and when I tried to intervene, she insulted me."

Jude's jaw clenched with barely contained fury, and he turned to Laura, his voice cold and unyielding. "Lady Laura, this behavior is unacceptable. You owe the maid an apology, and you will show the duchess the respect she deserves."

But Laura's face twisted into a mask of defiance, her eyes blazing with rage. "I owe them nothing!" she spat, her voice filled with contempt. "They're both beneath me, just like everyone else in this wretched house!"

Jude's expression darkened at my words, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "That's enough, Laura," he admonished, his voice firm and commanding. "You will not mistreat our servants, and you will certainly not speak to my wife in such a manner."

Lady Laura's eyes narrowed, her defiance evident as she retorted, "She is not your wife, I am. She is merely a woman who resides in our house."

Jude's jaw clenched at her words, his resolve unyielding. "She is not just a woman, Laura. She is my wife," he asserted firmly.

With a huff of indignation, Lady Laura stormed out of the room, leaving Jude and me in an awkward silence. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over our exchange.

Before Jude could break the silence, I turned on my heel and left the room, the tension too thick to bear. As I made my escape, I could feel Jude's eyes on me, a silent plea lingering in the air.

But I couldn't face him, not now. Not when the wounds inflicted by Lady Laura's taunts were still raw and stinging. So I retreated to the solace of my chambers, seeking refuge from the storm that raged within me.

After the tense encounter with Lady Laura and the incident with the maid, an awkward silence settled between Jude and me. I found myself unable to look him in the eye, the weight of his betrayal heavy on my heart.

In the days that followed, I made a conscious effort to avoid him at all costs. I broke my fast outside in the tranquility of nature, seeking solace in the gentle rustle of leaves and the soothing chirp of birdsong. But when Jude approached, his footsteps echoing softly on the path, I couldn't bear to stay.

Certainly! Here's the extended scene with more excuses:

"I... I forgot something in the house," I stammered, hastily rising from my seat and fleeing before he could utter a word.

In the halls of Ross House, I found myself turning the other way whenever I caught sight of him, my steps quickening as I tried to put as much distance between us as possible. I knew he wanted to talk, to explain, but I couldn't bring myself to listen, not when the wounds were still so fresh.

At mealtimes, I either took my food outside, where the open sky provided a welcome distraction, or retreated to the solitude of my room. I couldn't bear the thought of sitting across from him, the weight of his betrayal hanging heavy in the air.

And when Jude dared to approach me in the library or the drawing room, I made excuse after excuse to escape his company.

"I just remembered an urgent letter I need to write," I would say, hastily gathering my belongings and making a hasty exit.

Or, "I left my favorite book upstairs. I must retrieve it at once."

Each excuse felt flimsier than the last, but I clung to them desperately, unwilling to confront the truth of our fractured relationship.

"I... I must check on the flowers in the garden," I would mumble, casting a quick glance towards the nearest window before hurrying away.

Or, "I think I left the kettle on in the kitchen. It wouldn't do to let it boil dry."

"I'm feeling quite fatigued. I believe I shall retire early tonight," I would murmur, pretending to yawn and covering my mouth with my hand.

Or, "Oh, look, I seem to have dropped my handkerchief. I must go back and retrieve it."

But no matter how hard I tried to avoid him, Jude was always there, a constant presence in my thoughts and my heart. And as much as I tried to push him away, a part of me still longed for the day when we could mend the rift between us and find our way back to each other once more.

The soft rustle of pages turning and the faint scent of aged parchment enveloped me as I lost myself in the world of my book. The Library provided a sanctuary of solitude, a refuge from the tumultuous emotions that swirled within me.

Lost in the narrative, I didn't hear Jude's quiet footsteps as he entered the room. It was only when he stood before me, his presence demanding attention, that I reluctantly tore my gaze away from the page.

"Y/N," Jude's voice cut through the silence, his tone firm yet tinged with a hint of desperation. "I require a moment of your time."

I blinked, taken aback by the sudden interruption. "Jude, I... I was just..."

But he didn't let me finish. With a determined stride, he reached out and gently closed the book in my hands, his eyes locking onto mine with unwavering intensity.

"Y/N, I implore you," he said, his voice softening slightly. "You've been avoiding me at every turn, and I cannot endure it any longer. We must converse."

I opened my mouth to protest, to make another feeble excuse and flee the room, but before I could utter a word, Jude's hand closed around my wrist, holding me in place.

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and steady. "I shan't release you until you have heard my words."

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest as I reluctantly met his gaze. There was a raw vulnerability in his eyes, a silent plea for understanding that tugged at my heartstrings.

With a resigned sigh, I allowed myself to be led to a nearby chair, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts and emotions. But as Jude began to speak, his words filled with sincerity and remorse, I found myself slowly letting down my guard.

He sat in front of me and taking my hands in his. His touch was warm and firm, yet trembling with emotion. "I simply cannot stand Laura, nor the distance that has grown between us. It's tearing me apart," he began, his voice filled with raw honesty.

I met his gaze, my heart aching at the vulnerability in his eyes. "Jude..."

"Every morning, I wake up hoping to see your face, to see your smile." he continued, his voice trembling. "But all I find is an empty space beside me, a reminder of what I have lost. I miss you, Y/N, more than words can express. I miss the way you know exactly what I need, sometimes even before I do. The way you would bring me a cup of tea just the way I like it when I'm buried in work, or the way you'd remind me to take a break when I'm pushing myself too hard and you taking over my work even though you had your own duties that needed to be taken care of

I listened to his heartfelt confession. His words cut through the wall I had built around my heart, each one resonating deeply within me.

"Do you know how much I hope every day that you will change your mind, that you will forgive me and come back to me?" Jude's voice broke, and he took a deep breath to steady himself. "I sometimes stare at you when you're not looking, hoping that one day you'll see the love in my eyes and decide to give us another chance."

He paused, his eyes searching mine for any sign of forgiveness. "I want you to be the mother of my children, Y/N. Not Laura. I want our children to grow up in a home filled with love and warmth, not the coldness and spite that Laura brings. She is not the kind of person I want raising my children. I want you. I needed you and I grew desperate to get you back on my side, Laura was simply a ploy of attempt to have you be my wife again,I had thought if you saw what Laura was taking from you, you would wake up and fight for our love."

His grip on my hands tightened, his eyes filled with tears. "Y/N, you are the light of my life, the reason I wake up every morning. Without you, I am nothing. I am lost. I know I have made mistakes, that I have hurt you in ways I can never take back, but I swear to you, with every fiber of my being, that I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, proving to you how much you mean to me. Please, Y/N, give me another chance. I cannot bear the thought of losing you forever."

His words hung in the air, filled with a raw, desperate sincerity that took my breath away. For a moment, there was only the sound of our breathing, the tension between us crackling like electricity.

Gathering my courage, I looked up and met his eyes. "Jude, I found out something... something that changes everything. Laura threw herself on you because she heard my footsteps approaching that day in our chambers making it the perfect set up to make it look like the both of you were in a compromising position."

His eyes widened in shock and anger. "What? She... she planned it?"

I nodded, my voice trembling. "Yes. She had told me when she invited me for tea the day I arrived. She practically gloated about it."

Jude's hands clenched into fists, "I was oblivious to her game," he said through gritted teeth. "I thought I was doing what was right, protecting our honor... but all the while, she was manipulating me, us."

I reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "Jude, I wanted to tell you the day I had come to realise, to let you know I forgave you and that I wanted to fix our relationship. But you had been gone for a week, and when you returned, you brought Laura, presenting her as your second wife. I thought you had fallen for her."

He shook his head vehemently, tears forming in his eyes. "No, Y/N. I have never loved her. It was always you. I was blind and foolish, but my heart has only ever belonged to you and will always belong to you."

the weight of our misunderstandings and lost time pressing heavily upon me. "Jude, you must understand how much it hurt, seeing you with her, thinking you had chosen her over me."

Jude's expression softened, his voice breaking with emotion. "I am so sorry, my love. I know I can't undo the past, but I swear I will make it right. Laura will be gone, and I will spend every day proving my love to you."

The atmosphere in Ross House was tense as Jude and I waited in the drawing room for Laura's arrival. The soft glow of candlelight cast eerie shadows on the walls, adding to the solemnity of the moment. I stood by Jude's side, my hands clasped tightly together, feeling a mixture of apprehension and determination.

When Laura entered the room, her expression was one of smug confidence, as if she believed she held all the cards. But the steely resolve in Jude's eyes made it clear that he was not to be trifled with.

"Jude, darling, what is this about?" Laura asked, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

Jude's jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin. "Laura, we need to talk," he said, his voice firm and authoritative.

Laura's facade of innocence faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. "Of course, darling. What is it?" she asked, her eyes darting between Jude and me.

Jude took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving Laura's. "I know the truth about what happened that day in the chambers," he began, his voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath the surface. "I know you threw yourself at me because you heard Y/N's footsteps approaching."

Laura's eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly masked it with a scoff. "Oh, Jude, whatever are you talking about? I would never—"

Jude cut her off, his patience wearing thin. "Enough, Laura. I know what you did, and I will not tolerate it any longer. You have caused nothing but pain and suffering in this house, and I will not allow it to continue."

Laura's mask of indifference cracked, her eyes narrowing with anger. "You can't just throw me out. I am your wife."

Jude's expression hardened, his resolve unwavering. "No, Laura, you are not my wife. You never were, and you never will be.You are nothing but a liar and a manipulator. I want you out of this house. Now."

Laura's face contorted with rage, but before she could protest further, Jude spoke again, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

"You have caused nothing but pain and suffering to my one and true wife, the woman who will bear my children," he declared, his words laced with a raw intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

Laura's eyes widened in shock at the harshness of his words, but Jude was not finished.

"Every moment you've spent in this house has been a torment for her, a relentless onslaught of manipulation and deceit. You have tried to tear us apart, to poison the love we share, but you will not succeed. Not anymore."

As Laura stood before us, her arrogance slowly giving way to defiance, Jude's patience wore thin. He stood tall, his eyes ablaze with a fierce determination to rid our home of her toxic presence once and for all.

Jude's voice was like steel, cutting through the tense silence of the room. "You have caused enough damage. It's time for you to leave."

Laura's expression hardened, her eyes narrowing as she squared her shoulders in defiance. "And if I refuse?" she retorted, her tone dripping with contempt.

Jude's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "You have no choice," he growled, his voice low and menacing.

For a moment, Laura hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. But then, with a defiant sneer, she straightened her spine and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not going anywhere," she spat, her voice laced with venom.

The air in the room grew thick with tension as Jude's anger simmered just beneath the surface. I could see the muscles in his jaw twitching with restraint, his eyes darkening with a dangerous intensity.

"Leave, Laura," Jude's voice was a low rumble, barely contained rage simmering beneath the surface. "Before I make you leave."

But Laura remained unmoved, her gaze defiant as she stood her ground. "You wouldn't dare, leave m for such a thing,?" she taunted, a cruel smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

Jude's temper flared, his control slipping away like sand through his fingers. In that moment, his anger was palpable, a living, breathing force that seemed to fill the room with its sheer intensity. Even I, standing by his side, felt a chill run down my spine at the raw power emanating from him.

"You have no right to speak to her like that," Jude's voice was a thunderous roar, echoing through the room like a gunshot. "She is my wife, and you will show her the respect she deserves."

Laura's smirk faltered, her confidence wavering in the face of Jude's unrelenting fury. But before she could respond, Jude continued, his words dripping with contempt.

"You are nothing but a manipulative, conniving woman who has brought nothing but pain and suffering to both of us, especially to my wife," he spat, his voice filled with venom. "You treated her as if she was nothing, as if her feelings didn't matter. You used her, Laura, and I will not stand for it any longer."

The room seemed to tremble with the force of Jude's rage, the air thick with the weight of his words. For a moment, Laura looked as though she might argue, but then, with a defeated sigh, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

As the door slammed shut behind her, Jude's shoulders heaved with the effort to control his temper, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. I reached out to him, my hand trembling as I gently touched his arm.

"Jude," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Are you okay?"

As the echoes of Laura's departure faded into the distance, leaving behind an eerie silence, Jude stood in the center of the room, his chest heaving with the remnants of his anger. I approached him cautiously, reaching out to place a gentle hand on his arm, a silent gesture of support.

"Jude," I murmured softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Are you alright?"

His shoulders tensed at my touch, but slowly, almost imperceptibly, he began to relax. He turned to me, his eyes still burning with the fire of his fury, but there was a hint of something else there too - a vulnerability, a rawness that made my heart ache.

"I'm fine, Y/N," he replied, his voice tight with emotion. "But she had no right to speak to you like that. No right at all."

I nodded, my heart swelling with gratitude for his unwavering protectiveness. "I know, Jude. But she's gone now. We do not have to worry about her anymore."

Jude's expression softened slightly at my words, and he reached out to gently cup my face in his hands. "I'm sorry my love" he murmured, his voice filled with regret. "I did not mean to scare you."

I placed my hand over his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "tis alright, Jude," I whispered, my voice filled with tenderness. "I know you were only just attempting to defend me. And I appreciate it more than you know."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Jude's lips, and he pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly against his chest. "I love you, Y/N," he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

I nestled into his embrace, feeling the tension slowly melting away as the warmth of his love surrounded me. In that moment, as we stood there, united in our victory over Laura's tyranny, I knew that together, we could face whatever challenges lay ahead. And as Jude pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, I felt a sense of peace and safety wash over me, knowing that he would always be there to protect me, no matter what.

Months passed, and as the seasons changed, so too did our lives. The echoes of Laura's departure faded into distant memory, replaced by the joyful anticipation of a new life entering the world.

In the quiet stillness of our home, Jude and I eagerly awaited the arrival of our little one. The nursery had been lovingly prepared, filled with soft blankets and tiny clothes, each piece a testament to the love that had blossomed between us.

And then, one crisp autumn morning, our prayers were answered as our baby made their grand entrance into the world. The sound of their first cry filled the room, a symphony of new life and boundless joy.

Jude's eyes brimmed with tears as he cradled our precious bundle in his arms, his heart overflowing with love and wonder. I watched him, my own eyes misting over with emotion, as he pressed a tender kiss to our baby's forehead, his voice trembling with awe.

"Welcome to the world, little one," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "You are the most precious gift we could ever ask for."

And as I nestled into Jude's embrace, our baby nestled snugly between us, I knew that our journey was only just beginning. Together, we would navigate the ups and downs of parenthood, cherishing each moment as if it were our last.

In that moment, as the soft glow of dawn bathed our little family in its warm embrace, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, knowing that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by a love that was stronger than any storm.

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haleingstorm · 1 month

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Actually you know what I'm still not over the Seven not being found family in HOO. We were robbed. However canon is my bitch now so I present to you my the-7-actually-become-friends-and-family-and-have-meaningful-relationships-instead-of-just-vaguely-existing-near-each-other AU (Name subject to change).

The first disaster we have to tackle is fucking TLH It had so much potential and it just never followed through. First off I would like to mention that I would personally have SON be first in the series because then you could subtle drop hints about Jason and then learn about him in the next book. However I can be persuaded otherwise. So TLH it is. Let's set the scene.

First off Piper is not just a not-like-other-girls doesn't want to pretty because she finds it shallow. She grew. up. in Hollywood. Hollywood. That's going to fuck with anybodies sense of self worth and body imagine. As well as make it real clear what happens to young pretty girls/women. Add on to that a dash of Aphrodite kid powers. Namely subtle shape shifting. Canon by the way Silena is described 3 different ways in different books. (Am I aware this is probably Rick being terrible at remembering descriptions. Of course, do I care? Oh hell no.)

Anyway we'll keep her complicated relationship with her dad.(I have no authority on how to write her being Cherokee so I'm not touching that with a 10 foot poll. If others who know more would like to. Feel Free!). And Jane being kind of evil. Bonus points if she really wants to get in Piper's dad's pants but Piper keeps cockblocking her either accidentally but on Purpose. Piper is fighting the gender binary. It started out as a bid for attention but turns into hey-actually-this-is-making-me-feel-things. Dealers choice on what actually those things are. She's at the wilderness school because her dad doesn't know what to do with her. She has ADHD obviously but most of it is internal rather than external

Leo Valdez is a foster kid that has run away a gran total of seven times and is at the Wildness school as a Last Restort. He has undiagonzied ADHD because he was 'preforming too well in school' to fit the criteria. As well as fairly mild Dyslexia. He's terrified of fire and doesn't actually want to be a mechanic because that was what his mom was. And he could never be half the person she was. He's much too stupid for that. He is resistant to high temperatures but can not stand lower ones. Chalks this up to being from Houston. (spoiler alert it's not).

Now on to the star of the show Jason Grace. Love him, amazing. But actually the whole point is we don't know anything about him because he doesn't know anything about himself. However. One important detail is that he is the most feral motherfucker you will ever have the pleasure of meeting. When he had his memories he kept most of it hidden away because that's not how a Praetor is supposed to act. But now that his memories are gone all bets are off. He's there because a goddess is messing with fate.

#piper mclean #heroes of olympus #rewrite #because it was fine but it could have been great #I did not realize how long this was getting #whoops #more to come #HOO found family AU #leo valdez #jason grace #feel free to add other ideas #we can do this together #canon failed us #percy jackon and the olympians

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star-daughter · 23 days

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Whooh boy. Hi everyone! Sorry, It's been a while. But I have quite the post for you all today, because we'll be talking about a webcomic I just finished! ... I will warn you all though, that I do not have the kindest of words to say about it.

You may be aware of this comic, as it has a considerable following, especially here on tumblr, the comic is called Sparklecare. It currently has 4 volumes and is on a short hiatus so the website can finish it's redesign, but the plot summary of the comic from the last available snapshot of the website is as follows:

The comic follows the story of a cat named Barry Ill and his experience of being admitted to the Sparklecare hospital. Despite its glamorous reputation, the hospital is actually a prison that tortures and kills its patients and drains their families of insurance by the corrupt hospital's owner, Dr. Cuddles. Cuddles is a greedy Capitalist scumbag who cares about nothing but money, and so far, everything is working out for him. Any patients who escape or try to speak out against the hospital aren't believed and are written off as crazy. The story follows Barry's journey into uncovering the truth about why this place really is the way it is, and why nobody's talking about it.

From the outside, the comic is very striking and intriguing! From it's prominent art style and art direction, to the concept itself, it sounds like a fun time! ...Right? Well that's where the comic gets you; see just like the in-universe hospital, Sparklecare isn't as inviting and pleasant once you really sink your teeth in. And I'm here to talk about why I think that is.

Before we begin, I'd like to clarify since I've become aware of the community's um... Questionable attitude towards critique, that if you enjoy Sparklecare, that's totally fine! I'm not gonna tell you what you can and can't read, I'm here to express my own thoughts on it.

Now, I won't torture you with this post if it ends up on your dash, so the full post will be under the cut! Please check the reblogs, I may add more there if I run out of space.

Also, CW for bright colours, blood and a whole heaping o' medical mispractice.

Before I get into some of the more serious issues with the comic, I wanna first start off with the thing you're going to first see trying to read it: The art. Here I would say the website, but since it's getting a redesign, I don't feel confident speaking on it. I'll leave one note on it though: it needs serious optimization...

Onto the art: I will say, I found the art quite charming, especially the art in the first 2 volumes. I think the comic has a way with setting mood and tone using it's palette, specifically in the dramatic "blue/red" scenes - I think those look gorgeous!

The style in volume 1 & 2 is also very pleasing to the eye, although it can look off at points. I think the style succeeds extremely well with it's tendency to give characters large, exaggerated expressions - it's very cartoony and I love it. The lineweight is also used very well in my opinion!

However... There's a few big elephants in the room that they are The designs, lettering & panel work.

I'll begin with how the series handles it's lettering, as it's one of the most important parts of a comic. Although it's unique, that does not mean it's good.

In volume 1, it starts off fine enough, it's a simple speech bubble with white/black text.

It sort of flip-flops between having a shadow/glow and not having one, which although confusing and hurts my eyes sometimes, not a deal breaker! The bubbles are all colour coded also so no matter the scene, you understand who is talking. That is very good! I like that! I wish the colours weren't as bright as the backgrounds, but I understand why they are.

Volume 2 introduces what I consider my favorite of the lettering styles, big bold outlines with bubbles that better surround the text!

It's easily the most recognizable lettering style of all the volumes, and it's very readable. It's simple, but lettering is at it's best when it's simple and understandable.

This volume's lettering also introduces colour coded words & different fonts.

Which, I think looks lovely! It adds personality, and since fonts carry different tones with them, it helps with emphasis and how people read the dialogue. However, this isn't to say I think this lettering is perfect.. I'm not a huge fan of the random dots & spots, I think they clutter up the page when there too many characters on screen speaking, which distracted me from focusing on the actual words they were saying.

It also changes mid-way through volume 2! Suddenly, we get character-coded dots & spots... Which, cool in theory, but in practice, as I mentioned, it clutters the page if there's too many characters speaking at once.

Plus, they're used on background characters who do not appear again after their introduction, which is such a waste... If you're going to introduce these character-specific details, they should be used on characters who are important, not character we'll never see again.

When we get to volume 3 & 4, the lettering style almost completely solidifies, the same big bold outlining from volume 2... But now instead of just having personalized dots, we get fully personalized speech bubbles. Which, again, cool in theory! But in practice it's just... So hard to read.

On lettering, I will applaud the use of a custom hand-written font. It looks great! It's fairly clear and adds a nice touch to the comic's overall appearance... But how they use the font is, in my opinion, awful. Characters talk way too much for how much page space there is, which means that there isn't enough space for the bubble to encompass the text, which means text needs to get smaller.

These pages are over 2000 pixels wide and tall, but there's no consideration for how the images & text will look when shrunk down to fit into a normal browser page, which means the text gets tiny and barely readable if there's too much of it - which there often is. I'll get into how I feel about the writing in a moment.

On the panel work, it's fine, it's not super jaw-dropping but it's serviceable. Where the panel work starts to fail though, is it's pacing. See, in comics, pacing is extremely important, good pacing means a better and clearer reading experience, bad pacing can leave the reader confused and force them to reread repeatedly to understand what's going on.

Sparklecare suffers from this heavily, I feel. Take a look to this page below, while not the worst example of it, I think demonstrates a bit what I mean.

There's a lot of text, similar looking shots, and... Very little background to help, well, ground where we are, which made me feel dizzy while reading. There's not a lot of proper flow, because speech bubbles float all over the place, often times out of order in which you are supposed to read them. You tend to dart your eyes all over the page to "properly" read it, which makes for a bad reading experience - the clearer the order is, the better the flow.

On backgrounds, I do not like the near-complete lack of them. Sparklecare gets around backgrounds by filling the colour voids of the panels with dots, specks, lines and patterns - but they don't do the job! It makes the pages feel more cluttered and difficult to look at and read.

Even when they do have backgrounds, they're also filled to the brim with patterning to take your mind off how often strange they look.

Being unable to see what's going on is a reoccurring issue with the comic, and it doesn't just end at the panel work or backgrounds...

The character designs in Sparklecare also contribute to the visual clutter, what with many of them having many small details or otherwise being unpleasant to look at due to their colour palette.

Here's a few examples of characters I think have too much going on or are just eyesores. And see, I get it, they're supposed to be sparkleanimals - designed like a kid on DeviantArt was making them in 2011, but you can get that look without making the designs hurt to look at. Sparklecare both tries to work within a limited palette and tries to have every colour possible on a character and it pulls neither off well. Not to mention, the multitude of small dots & details, adding more to the pile of small dots in the comic.

When a ton of characters are on screen, it tends to make things more confusing to look at - due in part also to the comic's continuity issue. Things or characters that are in one panel or page, will disappear the next, or swap places. Overall, small art issues pile up onto a mess of bright colours and rainbow.

Now here's where we get to the fun point, The writing. Oh boy! For the most part, or at least in volumes 1 & 2, the writing is completely fine. Complicated, a bit odd, but nothing to scream about... Until volumes 3 & 4, because that's when the issues in the writing really starts to show it's rainbow-speckled face.

I'll be direct, I don't like the writing in Sparklecare. The characters are typically unlikable or annoying, and when they do have something interesting going for them, it gets walked back on for plot reasons. Characters also seem to be unable to do wrong, unless they're deliberately out to be the bad one. Characters will do something bad, but get reassured that everything is fine and it isn't their fault even though they did something bad - which is weird the first time, but awful the next 40.

The writing does have it's good points (I liked most of the writing in volume 2, I thought Hemera's struggles with wanting to keep her friends safe was really interesting and I liked the chunklings), but there's prominent issues I can't shove aside.

I namely have issues with the humor, specifically it's uh... Sexual humor. Now, don't get me wrong, I love a good penis joke every now and then, but volume 4 has about 5x the sex jokes of any volume. It was genuinely horrible to sit through because I knew every serious moment would get a joke about stroking it a page or two afterwards.

(One note on that first image there, it happens right after Barry [the green guy] completely belittles and insults Uni [the purple one]...)

The meta humor also felt very, very forced.

It always came out of nowhere, and completely out of place every time it was used. I like meta humor also, but this is supposed to be a more serious comic, yes? I mean, it should be considering the topics at hand, so suddenly throwing in references to this being a comic feels weird to read.

I will say, I do like some of the jokes, specifically these ones:

Let me circle back to the character writing really quick, because there was characters I enjoyed! ... Just not the main ones.

I think, out of everyone, my favorite characters were:

Several background characters with no lines

Dr. Party

Cyn

Jean

Rem

I also really enjoyed how Cuddles was written in volume 1 & 2, he felt very threatening to me.

Outside of these characters though, I found little interest in the main cast and even found myself rooting for the downfall of a few of them due to their poor writing.

Specifically on Barry, there's a small arc in volume 2 where he realizes he needs to stop violently denying that Uni has magic (Which is a stupid plot in my opinion, by the way, considering the worldbuilding has a lot of magic in it. You'd think the smart guy character would know that?) after Uni's magic helps them in the dump. However, right afterwards, in volume 3 & 4, Barry goes right back to verbally assaulting Uni about how magic isn't real! It's not enjoyable to read, and makes no sense to me after what happened in volume 2.

One note, since I don't know where to put this but, I don't like doom. I really don't ... I think I'm supposed to feel bad for him? But I can't! I saw him in volume 1 take glee in having power over the patients, and as the site states:

Doom is not a normal nurse, because he takes on the role of a doctor by harming people alongside regular nurse duties.

He literally tortures people! I'm sorry, I cannot forgive that! No matter how bad he feels about it.

Some more notes on writing before I end this because it's getting too long.. The disability rep in Sparklecare is, questionable sometimes. For the most part I think it's perfectly fine, buuut there are moments I don't think of fondly.. Specifically this moment in volume 2:

Barry starts having a paranoid and panicky moment due to his contamination OCD (Because they're in a literal trash heap) and Uni decides to...

Call it cute??? Genuinely what the hell, who thought this was a good thing to put in here? I haven't read the spin-off AU comic, but I hear it treats it's character with OCD even weirder. Yuck!

On a related note, I hate the cutesy names for disorders. They don't even come up often in-universe, there's little purpose in having them, especially if most of them are just real life, actual disorders. I know it's about an abusive hospital but come on man! You don't have to use baby names for everything! You don't even follow the weird naming pattern for everything! Things like autism don't get a weird cutesy name, but OCD and depression get one? Have some consistency if you're gonna make a weird universe decision.

Alrighty.. This should be the end of it, I'm not sure how to end it because there's still more I want to talk about! I'm super-duper open to talking about anything I've said here or elaborating on why I feel certain ways. This is in no way meant to be a hit-piece of the creator of Sparklecare, I think there's a lot of protentional, and I simply adore some aspects of the comic (Specifically visually). I really do hope this comic will improve over time and that it sees a long life of success.

If you come to this post to disagree, I ask you read through what I say carefully and come at me respectfully, I have no interest in fighting with people over a webcomic about furries.

-Mod Star

#mod star #sparklecriticism #sparklecarecriticism #sparklecare criticism #sparklecrit #I was considering posting this in main tags until I realized I'd get my ass destroyed. Oh well!#Apologies if anything is worded odd or has typos #I was distracted often while writing this and it is quite long so I proofread as I went.

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eruden-writes · 4 months

Text

Choosing the Bear - Part 1 (Shifter x Human)

Inspired by the Man or Bear in the Woods question/meme.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 (coming soon?)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

If you found yourself at night in a forest – somewhere that made bumfuck nowhere look like New York City – would you choose to be alone with a man or a bear?

Bambi Rose Barker was stuck in the middle of both answers. Literally.

She stood stock still, eyes wide, chest heaving and aching for air while her stomach lurched. Moments earlier – or maybe half an hour ago, she couldn’t tell – she had managed to escape her kidnapper’s cabin with the man hot at her heels. It had been a mad dash through the night, dressed in only a tank top and a pair of daisy duke shorts and choking down pain as her bare feet slammed over rocks, branches, and uneven terrain.

Luckily, a full moon cast light over the world, so Bambi wasn’t exactly stumbling without sight. Fumbling through the forest without shoes was still a bitch on the soles, but she simply gritted her teeth and continued forth.

When she caught sight of the bear a few yards ahead, her racing feet and thoughts froze. She couldn’t really be seeing a bear, right? Under the moonlight and swirling starlight, she squinted. But it was hard to deny that the bright white creature was anything but a bear.

Her adrenaline shifted from fleeing her pursuer as she slowed to calculating whether ursine or man was a larger threat.

Behind her, the man howled as he tromped through the mountainside forest, “Bambi, get back here! I just wanna talk things out!”

It wasn’t the first time she’d had a man chasing her with a shotgun. Growing up in the country, with little to do except get in trouble, Bambi and a group of friends often found themselves running off into the dark, being threatened by an angry elder with a shot gun.

The man tailing at her heels wasn’t crochety Mrs. Jenkins, who was more bark than actual bullet.

No, she was well-acquainted with Duke Walker. They’d grown up in the same town and known each other forever.

There was one key difference between Duke and the other men of Hartwell: his family owned the little town. By and large, he was better off than most people in Barfield and he got away with a whole helluva lot more than the average folk.

Which included stalking, as Bambi had learned over the last two years of their separation. He was about to add kidnapping and possibly murder to the list, as well.

But Duke was a human. A five-foot-eleven-inch human that might have a chance to be reasoned with.

Whereas the bear…

Well to start with, it looked about as tall as the Wicked Warrior from the Monster Truck Derby her pa used to take her to when she was a kid. Which had to be at least ten feet tall, though maybe kid Bambi was coloring her memories. It didn’t help that the bear looked to weigh just about as much as the Wicked Warrior to boot.

To end with, judging from the size and coloration, it looked like a polar bear. As in one of the few creatures that actually saw humans as a viable snack.

While Bambi hadn’t been an ace at high school geography, she was pretty damn sure the Appalachian Mountains were too far south for a polar bear.

Confusion warred with uncertainty, keeping her frozen in place as the bear lowered onto all four paws. A faint part of Bambi’s mind realized it had been rooting around in a tree and, a little hysterically, she wondered if polar bears ate honey.

Just as the bear lumbered closer to Bambi, Duke crashed through the brush behind her. The flaps of his flannel button-up, unbuttoned, flared behind him as his white tank top nearly glowed in the moonlight. “Christ, woman! I told you I just wanted ta’ talk and you gotta go and make a scene—“

Jolting, Bambi spun toward Duke. It would’ve been a lie if she didn’t take some satisfaction in watching awareness dawn on his as he finally saw the bear. He paled to a shade almost as white as the creature, gripping his gun tighter. She watched the knot in his throat bob, fear freezing him momentarily in place.

For some reason, seeing Duke like that sparked something inside Bambi. Balling her fists, she nodded toward the gun in his hands. “If you just wanna talk, Duke, why do you got a gun with you?”

Her words made Duke snap his attention back to her, eyes wide with horror and anger. “Now’s not the time for all that! Do you not see the hulking white beast behind you!?”

“I do, but it ain’t threatening me with a damn gun and it hasn’t been the one stalkin’ me for years and kidnapping me,” she spat back, though she very pointedly shifted so her back wasn’t to the bear or the man.

A chuff from the bear startled her attention back to it, her heart tripping in her chest. She glanced toward it, risking eye contact that could very well end her life. The bear’s head slightly tilted toward her, ears giving a twitch, but it didn’t growl or lift a lip in a snarl. Even without the signs of imminent danger, Bambi’s heart thrummed in her chest.

Albino, she thought. The white bear couldn’t be a polar bear, it had to be albino! But didn’t albino animals have red eyes? And no pigmentation in the rest of their body? She swallowed as her eyes dropped from the creature’s dark eyes to its black nose.

The cock of Duke’s rifle snagged Bambi’s attention back toward him. Finally, a growl burbled up from the bear and she heard it shift, could feel it rising up on its hind feet. Apprehension prickled over her body, finding Duke lining up a shot through the scope, lip curling as he snarled, “You need to back away from that damn thing! Don’t you got any sense?!”

A sudden surge of protectiveness overcame Bambi as she took a step closer to the armed man. “Duke Walker, put down the damned rifle! It wasn’t doing a thing before you started threatening it.”

“Don’t you Duke Walker me! It’s a—“

Before Duke could finish his retort, the huge bear crested the distance faster than Bambi would have guessed. Stunned, she couldn’t even shriek as the bear descended on Duke, huge paw arcing down to swipe at the rifle. She only heard the man give a startled cry before a loud, piercing gunshot rang out. With a clatter, the rifle went flying and Duke stumbled back, bloody gouge marks trickling down his arm and chest. Another growl warbled from the bear as it stood up straighter.

As Duke turned tail and sprinted back the way he came, the bear didn’t pursue. It merely stood, as if watching the man disappear into the woods.

And suddenly, Bambi realized she was alone with the hulking beast. As quick and quiet as she could, she began sidling away from the creature, mentally trying to determine which direction she should run to avoid Duke. However, the bear shifted toward her and she realized, with a start, that red blossomed along its fur.

Duke had shot it.

With a groan, the bear lowered down to all four, its torso seemingly heaving.

Sense and compassion held Bambi locked in place, part of her wanting to check on the creature while the logical side of her told her to bolt. Besides the fact it could be a polar bear – there’s no fucking way it’s actually a polar bear, Bambi’s logical side snarked – it was injured, meaning it had both a hankering for human and was likely scared while in pain.

Before Bambi could decide what to do, a smaller figure crashed through the tangle of forest. “Dad! Dad! What’s goin’ on? Did you hear that gunshot?”

The little figure paused, eyes widening and voice softening with worry, “What happened to you?”

With a jolt, Bambi realized she recognized the voice. Squinting, she took a step closer. “Mercy? Mercy Clements?”

Startled, the girl turned toward Bambi as she hovered near the bear. The light of the moon caught her wide hazel eyes, casting them with a silver sheen. Like a fish, her mouth opened and closed, obviously trying to come up with something to say.

Wait, she’d said ��dad’ thought Bambi. And then she had ran toward the bear, asking the creature what happened. Bambi’s gaze flicked from the bear to the girl and back to the bear, a perplexing suspicion taking root. There was no way to confuse a behemoth like that for a human, even in the dark.

“Zeke?” Bambi narrowed her eyes, focusing on the bear. There was no way the bear was Zeke Clements. There was no way the bear was anything other than a bear!

Something in the bear’s demeanor flinched – or so Bambi thought – and her denial wavered.

#exophilia #exo writing #bear shifter #shifter #monster #monster x human #shifter x human #monster romance #monster lover #monster fucker #monster dad #I haven't decided if Zeke only turns into a bear or if he can shift into other animals #thoughts and feelings?#should I continue this?#I have a vague idea of where this can go but idk

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breadbrioche · 1 year

Text

misunderstandings

so mun x reader

➳summary: jeokbong makes a completely wrong conclusion

➳warnings: crack, hanamun mentions but not taken seriously

➳word count: 506

➳a/n: found this in my files I think this was actually the first tuc fic I ever drafted up!

“Mun, are you and Hana dating?”

One, silent second passes before the entirety of Unnie’s Noodles bursts into an uncontrollable manic laughter. The aforementioned counters look at each other, then at Jeokbong, eyes wide with horror at the accusation.

“DEFINITELY NOT! Why would I date Hana noona of all people?!” Mun retches at the thought, which makes Hana glare at him. He cowers behind you (who’s laughing so hard you clutch your stomach in pain) hiding from the older woman’s glare.

“No offense, noona…” he meekly adds but Hana just clicks her tongue.

“What do you think I am? Some kind of cougar?!” Hana snarls after turning to face Jeokbong. If it were even possible, her comment sends the rest of the group into an even louder frenzy. You grab onto Mun’s shoulder, shaking and heaving for air - your body unable to withstand the giggles erupting from you.

“W-Where did you even get that from?!” You wheeze out between breaths. This is seriously way too funny; was Jeokbong blind? You knew he was dense but Mun isn’t exactly subtle about your relationship.

“W-well, I mean- you’re always together! And you looked close so I…” Jeokbong stammers while shuffling in his spot, embarrassed. You snort; to be fair to him, you have been working a lot with Ms Chu these days so all your typical tasks with Mun naturally transfer to the next available person (Hana in this case). Motak, finally recovered from his laughing fit, pats the new counter on the back knowingly.

“It’s easy to think that,” he begins with in the way he only talks in when he wants to sound smart. “But we’re like a family! Mun and Hana are like siblings-“

“He’s more like the family dog.” Hana says under her breath.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Well Mun-ah, you do have some very puppy-like charms. Especially when we first met you, your hair reminded me of a toy poodle!”

“Ms Chuuu!”

“-AND ALSO!” Motak says in a louder tone, effectively shutting everyone up. “Our So Mun is dating someone else!”

Yeah, hell no.

Sensing that this won’t go down without you losing at least some dignity, you immediately make a dash for the nearest exit but you’re being pulled back by the collar of your shirt by the man of the hour and promptly guides you to face Jeokbong’s direction, where he’s looking at you shocked. Usually, you wouldn’t be opposed to Mun’s arm around you but the usually comforting grip feels like shackles that you couldn’t get out of now matter how much you wriggled.

“Oh- oh my god I’m so-“ Jeokbong stumbles as you force a smile with gritted teeth while stabbing your elbow into Mun’s side. How dare he do this to you.

“If I had to go through that, so do you.” Mun whispers to you. Though you weren’t facing him, you could definitely tell he had that one of those cheeky grin of his plastered on his face.

This was gonna be a long day.

#the uncanny counter #kdrama #so mun #kdrama x reader #the uncanny counter x reader #kdrama fic #the uncanny counter fic #so mun x reader #own works

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smallestapplin · 4 months

Note

So I found out Arlecchino and Lynette aren't the biggest fans of heavy seasonings. Maybe the house's new "Mother" practices making less-seasoned portions in secret and does some snooping to figure out where their limits are by trying recipes and restaurants they like. Naturally, Arlecchino finds out eventually, but how would she respond?

Elder Emo

I cannot express the infodumping I want to do about the whole seasoning things and why is so common, but I will do so in fic form for you :3

Being hired as the hearths 'Mother' was terrifying for the first year, everyone testing you seeing how far they could push you, or how lenient you are when 'Father' isnt around.

It's learned quickly that while you are more emotionally available than Arlecchino, and offer more paternal affections and help, you won't drop a single rule while 'Father' is away.

For the most part things have been fine, even growing closer to the family and feeling truly apart of it, there is always just one issue.

Dinner.

Of course with so many kids and adults, dinner will be choas, and with so many different texture issues, likes and dislikes, it's nearly impossible to make one main dish, but you refuse to let anyone go hungry!

There is just a secondary issue with that.

Arlecchino and Lynette.

Both of them openly hating heavily seasoned food.

Lynette claims the seasonings are too strong or that something is too spicy.

Then Arlecchino repeats a myth over and over again "If it's high quailty food then it doesnt need seasoning."

If she wasn't your boss (or lover) you would've whacked her for such sensless blabbering! You want to tell her that is just a dumb myth made for the wealthy so they couldn't be eating like the poor.

But you sigh, needing to think of something.

Freminet and Lyney are easy to feed, both accepting nearly anything you set in front of them, the rest are picky, with Lynette and Arlecchino even pickier, so you had to work slowy.

You made at least a dozen meals a day, but each time you had one goal in mind.

Getting this house use to flavor. It's not anyone's fault Arlecchino can't cook, she refuses to get out of what she's use to, so it's up to you. Each night you add just a dash more seasoning to your meals.

Maybe a pinch more garlic salt, maybe a dash more paprika, maybe a hint of lemon and pepper seasoning, never adding too much, just adding little by little each time you make dinner to get them use to it.

And every day you hear Lynette purring about how good your food his, everyday you hear the kids asking for seconds, even in private Arlecchino tells you that you are doing a wonderful job, and she might have to make your 'Mother' status permanent.

You do this for months, nearly a year of you adding more and more flavor to the dishes you make, and never hearing a single complaint or not even getting the slightest feeling that something was wrong.

You were wrong to think she didn't know, how could you have ever thought you could sneak anything passed her? She knows everything that happens in the house, nothing ever escapes her.

The house is quiet, all the kids having left for a mission of some kind, leaving just you and Arlecchino. You wouldve thought your evening would be different, usually it's rare you two get alone time so it's used wisely.

You didn't imagine you'd be in her office, sitting on the other side of it as she stares at you from across it.

"I'm impressed, even though you were hiding it you hid it so well. Perhaps I should send you on missions too."

"Arlecchino, please, I wasn't poisoning anyone, and I made so nobody would be allergic to anything I was making or adding."

Her pointed look makes you snap your mouth shut.

"You hide the seasoning so well, I actually had quite a time trying to find everything you were using. How did you manage to keep it under wraps?"

"I wasn't hurting anyone, I just wanted everyone to actually enjoy their food. Bland food with just salt and pepper is so....depressing, there is no joy, no love, so fulfillment with such things."

She hums, taking a moment to think about what you've said. Leaning back in her chair, she takes a slow breath before seemingly coming to a choice.

"Consider this your first warning. You have been doing well, and since this isn't something major I will look passed it. But, it is a warning as you still lied and hid things from me, which is strictly prohibited."

"Sooo you don't want my 'marry me' chicken anymore?"

"....I never said that. Anyway, come now, the children will be home shortly and you still haven't prepared anything."

She stands up, walking with you to the kitchen, easily helping you gather the ingredients you ask for. She's not at all a good cook,, but she is one of your best kitchen aids when she has time.

#Genshin x reader #Genshin impact x reader #genshin Arlecchino x reader #genshin impact Arlecchino x reader

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sitp-recs · 9 months

Note

I love your rec list so much, it’s like my comfort page. You have an oblivious Harry list but what about when Draco is oblivious or in denial about Harry’s possible feelings?

Thank you, I’m so happy to hear that! Sure thing, here are some fics I don’t see recced often. They’re a nice mix of oblivious Draco and Draco in denial, hope you enjoy!

Professor Potter and his Magical Menagerie by @dracogotgame (T, 7.5k)

Harry Potter descends on Hogwarts with a horde of magical beasts. Professor Malfoy is not amused.

Proof of the Pudding by daisymondays (T, 10k)

When Greg's bakery opens on Diagon Alley, Draco doesn’t expect it to the place he ends up finding love, but then again Harry Potter has always defied Draco's expectations.

What Real Thing? by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (E, 12.6k)

They don’t cuddle, they don’t talk about their relationship (or lack thereof) and they certainly never fall asleep in each other’s arms.

The Year of Non-Magical Thinking by whiskyandwildflowers (E, 13.6k)

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Potter. I'll think of something. So will you. But this is my journey to self-actualization," Draco managed to smirk. "You can fuck off and get your own."

Take the Moon by @tackytigerfic (M, 15k)

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one. It's just a shame they’d always planned to break up after a year…

Vanishing Cabinets by @romaine2424 (E, 18k)

Take one Wizarding Family Values politician who has a secret life, and add one Auror who detests discrimination of any type, but becomes a bit obsessed with said politician, and you have enough sparks to ignite a Beltane fire.

With Great Yawns and Stretchings by sugar_screw (T, 22k)

The coffee is very good. Really. And the cats are so cute. That's why Harry goes so often.

Better To Burn Than To Fade Away by Ren (E, 23k)

Harry Potter is a legend in the world of broomstick racing. He's won almost every cup, trophy, and bowl – except for the historical London-Nome which has been on hiatus for the past several years. Now the London-Nome is starting again, and Harry will do anything to pull off one last big win.

the strength to stay by violetclarity (E, 29k)

Draco and Harry are the best Senior Aurors in the DMLE, which is why they’re working the case about Wings – a dangerous new potion that sends users into a dreamscape from which they may never return. When Harry is kidnapped by the group behind Wings, Draco takes it upon himself to go after him, and is forced to confront the reality of Harry’s feelings for him, which he’s been ignoring for years.

A Secondary Education by Thunderbird587 (E, 234k)

Fleeing the aftermath of his recent divorce, Draco Malfoy takes up a post as the new Potions Master at Hogwarts. At first he believes his hopes for a fresh start are dashed when he sees that a certain boyhood rival is on staff there as well. But Harry Potter is being weirdly nice to him, leaving Draco no choice but to play along.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #oblivious Draco #Draco in denial

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hotvintagepoll · 6 months

Text

Welcome to the HOT AND VINTAGE MOVIE STARS tournament! We are now finished with the Hot & Vintage Men Tournament; The Hot & Vintage Movie Women Tournament is ongoing. Submissions for hot vintage women are now closed, but we are accepting propaganda for those already in the bracket.

Round 3 of the Hot & Vintage Women Tournament will be posted Saturday, April 6th. All polls—including ongoing polls, previous rounds, old tournaments, the various shadow brackets, and fun mini polls—can be found in the #hotvintagepoll tag. Every poll in the Hot & Vintage Women Tournament will be tagged with the hottie in it if you need to search for someone in particular.

FAQs:

“Where is [my favorite hot woman]?” It depends. Have you checked all the polls in the tag? Have you done a tag search for her? If you still haven’t found her, either nobody submitted her or she did not fit the criteria of being a movie woman from 1910-1970.

“Can I still submit hot women?” No, the submission window has closed. Please do not send in women you wish had made it into the bracket. I can’t do anything with those asks and they just make me sad.

“I have additional propaganda for the hot women!” Great! Send me an ask or reblog the poll and add your propaganda to it. You can also tag me in posts (this is the best way to submit gifsets or fancams). I don’t boost all the propaganda I see or receive, but I try to boost the best of the best.

If you’re submitting propaganda for your hot woman, I don’t accept propaganda that’s from beyond the end of this tournament’s era (ie don’t send me pics of them from before 1910 or after 1970). I also don’t accept propaganda of TV appearances unless it’s clearly a cameo where they’re playing themselves. Please break long asks full of photos up into a few short ones so I don't clog everyone's dashes. I watch every video I receive to tag for trigger warnings, so please don't send me super long videos.

I don’t post or boost negative propaganda about any hot woman. If you really hate that a certain hot woman is winning, send me positive propaganda for their hot opponent. If you think a hot woman shouldn’t even be included in the tournament because of scummy things she did in her lifetime, please read my take on it here.

If I see repetitive, trolling, and/or bigoted remarks in the comments, I may block you from this bracket. If you want to point out a hot woman’s flaws or misdemeanors, that’s fine, but if I see consistent bad-faith trolling you will be blocked.

The views expressed in the propaganda are not my own. I don’t submit my own propaganda, and I don’t change what’s submitted beyond fixing obvious spelling mistakes. If you hate a poll bio or a pic, let me know and send me something I can use instead. Thoughtless bitching gets blocked.

"Where are the hot men?" Most of them are in the shadow realm! Toshiro Mifune was crowned the winner of the Hot & Vintage Men Tournament, and the rest were banished below the earth, where shadows creep and the hours grow long. You can find all the round 1 matchups here (thank you @markwatnae!), or you can do a tag search to find out what happened to a specific hot man.

“My FAQ isn’t on here :(” send me an ask! I love hearing from you guys—just please check these basics first.

Thank you for being here! Enjoy the tournament.

If you want to search through the different rounds of the tournaments, I'm including links under the cut.

First round of the hot men—#round 1 archive, #round 1 blog

Second round of the hot men—#round 2 archive, #round 2 blog

Third round of the hot men—#round 3 archive, #round 3 blog

Fourth round of the hot men—#round 4 archive, #round 4 blog

Quarterfinals of the hot men—#round 5 archive, #round 5 blog

Semifinals—#TWO KINGS archive, #TWO KINGS blog

Finals—#hot men finals

First round of the hot women—#ladies 1 archive, ladies 1 blog

Second round of the hot women—#ladies 2 archive, #ladies 2 blog view

Other featured tags: #housekeeping (organization updates), #family lore (personal anecdotes relating to the hotties or stories about sharing this poll with their families), #hollywood creatures (pets named after old movie stars), and #silly times (what it says on the tin).

#new masterpost!#hotvintagepoll #ladies 3 #housekeeping

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shekeepswriting · 1 year

Text

A Little More Heart (2)

[Syverson x Reader]

Word Count: 2821

Summary: You head home after a night at the bar.

Warnings: self-defense related anxiety

A/N: Thank you guys so, so much for all the kindness and support. I was blown away by the responses, and I truly appreciate it so much. So I’ve decided to keep going. I hope you’ll come on this little journey with me. I took the liberty of tagging the people who said they wanted to see more (it didn’t let me add some of you, but I did try). If you’d like me to take you off the list, just let me know!

Previous Chapter

You focused on taking deep, slow breaths as you walked along the side of the road, debating whether it was worth it to lose what little night vision you had by turning on your phone flashlight. You didn’t love the idea of not being able to see outside of the little circle of light it would provide, but you also didn’t love the idea of being hit by an unsuspecting car.

You don’t know why you had walked to the bar in the first place. It wasn’t like you. But your cousin had called when she heard you were in town, sounded so excited to meet up with you after her shift at the hospital and promised to pick you up from the bar at 10:00. You didn’t know her very well anymore, hadn’t been a part of her life in a long time, but you’d had no reason to distrust her.

After lingering in the parking lot for a good fifteen minutes with three calls gone to voicemail, you really hadn’t had any other choice but to start walking. In a town this small, there were no cab companies or ride shares to call. People relied on family and friends to get them around when they found themselves without a car. And you were short on both.

Just as you pulled your phone from your pocket, headlights pierced the darkness, carving yellowed wedges of light onto the wet pebbledash road. A vehicle was approaching from the way you came. You moved even further off the road into the grass, and the driver flashed their headlights twice, acknowledging you.

You raised a hand in gratitude as the truck rolled past you, but the light feeling was short lived as it pulled over in front of you. You sighed.

It should have been a relief, an alternative to your long walk in the pitch black summer night, but instead it called to mind the first two minutes of every crime procedural you’d ever seen. And you really weren’t in the mood to be murdered.

No one got out, but the cab light turned on, and you heard the passenger side window roll down. You took a moment to weigh your options, kneeling down for a moment in the damp grass as if retying your boot while you slipped the small utility knife out of the sheath you kept strapped around your ankle while traveling. You’d been raised to be prepared for the worst, especially when alone or around men. Anyone who wanted to harm you was sure as hell gonna bleed first.

You approached the truck with slow steps, keeping your hand angled to hide the knife along the line of your thigh.

“Now I know you didn’t survive traveling this long on your own by walking on unlit country roads at night.”

You heard him before you saw him, brows furrowed in confusion as you drew even with the passenger window.

Sy. The guy from the bar. Under normal circumstances you can honestly say you would’ve been happy to see him again. But the current setting had you very on edge and reluctant to let your guard down.

“Not my preferred transportation,” you said carefully, looking him over.

For his part, it seemed like he was doing his very best to be nonthreatening, all the cab lights were on now, and he was leaning over slightly so that you could see his face fully lit and framed in the window. His hands were open, empty, and visible, one on the wheel and the other on the dash.

“Everything okay? Didn’t see a car broken down, but it’s real fuckin dark out tonight.”

You blew out a breath, hand flexing around the knife handle as you tried to decide how honest to be.

“Uh, yeah… my ride was late, and I got tired of waiting. Figured I’d get a head start.”

Sy frowned a little, eyes glancing at the rearview in search of other headlights. His fingers tapped restlessly on the dash.

“What are the chances you’d let me give you a ride?”

“Not great,” you admitted. “I mean, I enjoyed hanging out with you, but as much as we talked, we never got to topics like… your stance on murder and body disposal.”

Sy nodded slowly.

“Understood… You could take a picture of me if you want. And my license plate. Text it to everyone in your contacts.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“You’d be okay with that?”

“Hell, I’ll sit in the truck bed and let you drive yourself if that’s what it takes to get you home safely. I’m not feeling too great about leaving you out here by yourself.”

You hesitated for a moment, looking up and down the road again. Still no other cars.

Fuck it.

“Alright…”

Sy held perfectly still while you raised your phone and took his picture, sending it to your grandma, useless cousin, sister, brother in-law, and editor for good measure. Your phone’s flash blinded you for a second as you took a picture of the license plate moments later and sent it to the same list.

“You wanna drive?” Sy asked, leaning across the passenger seat to push the door open when you finished.

“No thanks. Are you armed?”

“No, ma’am.”

You gave a final nod before climbing into the passenger seat. Sy’s brows raised when he clocked the knife in your hand, but he chose not to comment.

“Where am I driving to?” he asked as you closed the door behind you.

“My grandma lives down on Azalea. I’ll tell you where to turn.”

“Got it.”

Sy pulled his truck back onto the road, and your leg started bouncing almost instantly. You forced yourself to take a few deep breaths. It was clean in here, at least. Surprisingly so. Smelled like leather and pine, without the help of a green paper tree hanging from the rearview mirror.

Sy’s eyes flickered towards you for a second before returning to the windshield.

“Anything I could be doing right now to make you less nervous?”

“Don’t think so,” you sighed. “Sorry, it’s not that I distrust you specifically, I just…”

“I know. I get it.”

A few minutes passed in relative silence before he tried again.

“You always carry a knife with you?”

You raised an eyebrow, turning away from the window to stare at him.

“Knives. That’s what you wanna have a conversation about right now.”

He scrunched up his face in a way you fought hard not to find endearing.

“Knew as soon as it was outta my mouth…”

“So stupid,” you laughed quietly.

“I’m just not used to seeing a woman carrying anything bigger than a pocketknife, is all.”

“I think you might be surprised. Concealed knives may not be conventionally ladylike, but they make us harder to murder. I think it’s a fair trade.”

“Making yourself harder to murder… Inconsiderate.”

That surprised a laugh out of you so abrupt and genuine it made you honest-to-god snort. Sy glanced over at you with a rapidly growing grin of his own as you struggled to speak.

“So fucking rude,” you agreed through your laughter, your stomach giving a little flip as the low sound of his laughter joined yours.

And just like that, as your laughter faded to giggles and Sy’s to a charming half smile, the tension left your muscles for the first time since exiting the bar. It was back to how it was before, back to glances and smiles and a strange level of comfort between strangers.

You felt kind of…. Well, not stupid. But silly maybe.

“I’m sorry for, um…” You gestured vaguely backwards, and Sy shook his head.

“Don’t be. Trust me, I get it. You gotta do what you can to keep yourself safe. Not always easy to know what that is.”

You thought about the silver chain you’d glimpsed earlier. Retired military, he’d said. Of course he’d get it.

“It sucks that you get it,” you said.

He shrugged.

“It sucks that you have to do it in the first place.”

“Yeah…” you said softly, looking down at the knife you were now holding loosely in your lap. It was too dark for you to safely put it away. You didn’t love the idea of accidentally stabbing yourself in the leg.

When you lifted your head again, you caught Sy in the process of looking away. Before you could call him on it, you noticed a small pond drawing closer through the windshield.

“Take this next turn,” you said, pointing. “And it’s the third house on the right.”

Sy nodded, following your directions without comment.

You smiled a little to yourself as you looked out the window again. Your grandmother had lived in the same house in the same little neighborhood - if you could even call it that - for your entire life. Even with the old globe streetlamps so few and far between, you knew exactly what was out there in the dark night. The road sat high, built up to avoid pooling and flooding with the frequent rains, and the houses sat far back from the road and low enough in elevation that the rooftops were barely even with the street level. The road and the properties were heavy with tall, skinny pine trees, taller than any you’d seen anywhere else. As a kid, you’d have sworn they helped hold up the sky.

Your grandmother’s house sat at the edge of the neighborhood, and a dense forest started at the back of her property line, held at bay by a wrought iron fence that circled the whole yard, complete with a gate across the driveway, blocking access to the patio, carport, and yard. It was the only house in the neighborhood with a light on by the front door, the only house still waiting on someone to come home.

“You can stop here,” you said as Sy approached the top of the driveway.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I don’t want the dogs to go crazy and wake my grandma up.”

“Okay,” he said, putting the truck in park. “I’ll just wait up here until you make it inside, if that’s alright.”

You gave a nod, reaching for the door handle when he spoke again.

“And I... Sorry for scaring you. Hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable.”

“You did everything you could’ve done to make it easier,” you said with a small shrug and a smile. “And for the record… if there were more men like you around, I probably wouldn’t have to carry this so often.” You tapped the hilt of the knife.

Sy didn’t seem to have any words to add to that, just gave you a slow nod.

The cab light clicked on automatically when you opened the door, and you took advantage of the light, crossing your ankle over your knee and tugging up your pant leg to replace the knife in its small sheath, adjusting your sock and boot to keep it stable. Sy watched the process without comment, finger tapping idly on the steering wheel and eyes lingering slightly on your ankle even after you’d pulled your pant leg back down. He cleared his throat and looked away as you hopped out of the truck.

“Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too. Thanks for the ride.”

“Any time,” he said, a small smile crossing his face just long enough for you to believe he actually meant it.

You gave one final little nod before closing the door and turning to head down the long driveway. Despite the late hour, everything about it was familiar. The smell of pine and wet concrete. The nighttime symphony of crickets and frogs. The flicker of fireflies far back near the fenceline. You took a deep breath as you approached the gate, drawing the spare set of keys from your bag. You didn’t know how long you were going to stay, how long you even could stay, but if it was “heart” your editor was after, a nice soak in nostalgia certainly couldn’t hurt.

You let yourself in the back door, the same way everyone in your family did. The kitchen light had been left on, and the dogs were already standing there waiting for you, giving soft little woofs of greeting as they crowded your legs. You gave them their required pets and scritches, hushing them as they followed you through the dark house to the front door. You turned the outside light off, watching through the peephole as Sy’s truck drove away moments later.

As you walked down the hallway to the guest bedroom, you sent the all clear texts, assuring everyone you’d made it home safely. Almost immediately, your phone began to buzz, signaling a call from your editor Bonnie. You took the last dark corner at a jog, closing yourself in the guest room before swiping the screen to answer.

“You’re up late,” you said quietly, feeling blindly for the light switch. “Do you ever actually sleep or do you have caffeine in an IV?”

“I’m always awake when my favorite talent is in mortal danger,” she said matter-of-factly.

You smiled.

“Favorite talent or least annoying talent?”

The staticky sigh that followed was a very intentional non-answer.

“You made it safely to Louisiana I assume? And are not currently being murdered by a genetically blessed serial killer?”

“Yeah, I made it fine,” you laughed.

“And the genetically blessed non serial killer is…?”

“Just a local I met. He gave me a ride home when my cousin bailed.”

There was a long silence.

“…And?”

“And…. He didn’t murder me. For which we should both be grateful.”

“Avoiding the details. Interesting.”

“Bonnie.”

“You’re a details kind of woman. The absence is noteworthy.”

“Fine. I met him at the only bar in town, and we talked for about an hour. I left alone. My cousin never showed up. He passed me walking down the side of the road like an idiot and stopped to help. Satisfied?”

“Did you draw him? I bet your readers would love him. Remember that detective you met a few months back? They lost their minds over that handsome face. Half of them wanted you to marry him on the spot.”

“Uh, yeah, I did draw him, but I didn’t keep the picture. It was just for fun. Besides, I wasn’t looking for a story or anything. It was just… bar talk, ya know? Nothing noteworthy.” You tried to keep your tone light, knowing how much Bonnie hated a missed opportunity.

“Hmm. Well, if you see him again, maybe try and find something interesting there.”

“You asked for more heart,” you reminded her. “Which is not something I’m gonna find talking to a random guy. That’s why I’m at my grandmother’s in the first place, remember?”

“Have it your way,” she sighed. “Anyway, just wanted to check in and make sure you didn’t run into any trouble.”

“I appreciate it,” you said. “I’m okay.”

“I’ll let you get some rest, then. Since unlike me, you still sleep.”

“Thanks,” you snorted. “I’ll have the draft of the next post ready for you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

The call ended before you could respond, just as it always did, and you were in the process of plugging in your phone when you heard a soft knock.

You peeked out the door to see your grandma standing in the dark hallway, wrapped in her purple housecoat and holding a small flashlight.

“Got up to use the bathroom and heard you talking,” she said in a whisper. “Wanted to say goodnight.”

You smiled, holding your arms out for a hug. She squeezed you much tighter than it looked like she had any right to, pushing the air out of your lungs.

“Goodnight, Nana. Sorry to disturb you.”

“Nonsense,” she said. “Did you have fun?”

“Kat never came. I think she forgot. I had fun anyway though.”

She pulled back from you with a frown.

“You didn’t walk all that way home did you? Oh, that girl is getting an earful from me in the morning!”

“It’s alright,” you laughed, rubbing her shoulder. “Someone gave me a ride. I sent you a picture. You can tell me all about him in the morning.”

“Him who?” she asked quickly. “Do you know his family name?”

“No, sorry. He said his name is Sy?”

“Oh,” she said with a deep exhale, her shoulders relaxing. “Well, that’s alright then. He’s a good boy.”

“Yeah?” you asked with a smile, trying not to laugh.

“Oldest Syverson boy, right? Big beard?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” she sighed again. “I’ll invite him to dinner tomorrow to thank him. Goodnight, darlin.”

Your eyes widened as she kissed your cheek and turned to head back to her room.

“Oh, I don’t think you need to do all of that! I said thank you!”

She kept walking as if she hadn’t heard you.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”

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Thanks for reading, friends! I hope you all enjoyed it. Would love, love, love to hear from you!

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Tags: @firstcashheroathlete @melissareadsstuff @juliaorpll78 @mrsevans90 @kajjaka @kebabgirl67 @foxyjwls007 @luckydiorxoxo @just-chirpin @deandoesthingstome @mindingmyownbusiness

#syverson x reader #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson fanfiction #syverson fluff #henry cavill fanfiction

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thestarfishinjootsoffice · 2 years

Note

This is-A random request really,you can write these any way you want with different slashers too,Just include Bubba and Thomas please(ówò) Slashers x child reader who's parents,while being chased like-while hiding with the reader just shoves them out of the hiding place to save themself before fleeing,Maybe the reader is like 5 or 7,just smol and the reader just lays down and cries so the slasher just goes after the mom/or dad then comes back and takes the kid in?-

I was writing another request but Tumblr's hangry ass decided to eat it 🙄

ALSO YASS I LOVE THIS REQUESTS, AND I LOVE DIRTY DEED BEING DONE DIRT CHEAP <333.

Slashers x sacrificed! Child! Reader.

Bubba 🩸⛓️

Bubba didn't really wanna kill you, one of those reasons being you were a child and he likes children! And you didn't deserve this. :(

Didn't really wanna kill your parents either because oh how lonely and sad you must feel after seeing your mother and father get cut in half by a chainsaw!!.... Buutt he could always convince his brothers to let you stay in the family for 'extra' help. (he just wants a friend and a kid)

But he had to do what he had to do other wise his whole family will die and it'll all be his fault.

But all of the guilt he felt for your parents after they had pushed you out of their hiding spot after Bubba had found you had disappeared. And instead been replaced with anger and betrayal. Why did they do that? Family is supposed to be everything!

He felt sad looking at you crying on the ground after your brain processed wtf just happened.

He ignored you and instead went dashing towards your parents who were screaming and crying and confused why the killer had gone after them instead.

Earlier he was holding back but now he wasted no time, these people didn't deserve to be called parents.

Few minutes later he went back to you with no weapons on him, finding you still on the ground letting small tears go down and he just had the perfect idea and was dead set on it.

He timidly walked over to you babbling random nonsense but none of them sounded ill willed.

It took a lot of whining and persistence for his brother to finally allow to take you in but he was cautious as hell but everything still worked out really well.

Of course his oldest sibling, Drayton was harsh on you but because he was worried to hell if you were going to snitch on them and ruin his reputation but considering what happened a while back its safe to say you won't. (hopefully?)

And you'll be forced to get involved in the whole killing thing. If you start crying or get sad Bubba will do his best to get more victims so Drayton stops complaining and then you won't have to do it.

Thomas 🩸⛓️

Now Thomas and bubba are very similar although distant cousins.

He holds the same kind of guilt when he sees a family but he loves his own family more. He'll make sure to give yours a quick death.

Same thing, he's a family guy and a big family he can watch spend time together as they get older. <333

He was thinking of taking you in but he's not sure if you would comply because of your current status him basically chasing down you and your family.

But he became less shy of those thoughts as he watched your own parents forcefully make you show yourself to the killer after their tail to save their own skin (no pun intended) and he was now disgusted with your parents at how easily they gave you in.

He was always told the most important thing in this world was family and if your parents couldn't understand that then they shouldn't be parents at all.

He was a bit startled but was quickly catching up to them.

They were disgusting useless people who idiotically pondered why he wasn't taking his time killing off their own child they selfishly offered.

After being done with them he slowly walked over to you without his chainsaw and his hands slightly up.

Showing his best his intention was not to harm you. It didn't take that long or hard to convince his family to add you as a member but they were wary.

And another terrible thing was you HAVE to help with capturing the victims. If it's too much of a toll you Thomas will put on his headphones on you and make you go rest. This can only go so long, it depends on your age and personality.

Soon some guilt tripping form some of his family members and hoyt if it goes on too long. Thomas can only do so much against them.

After a while you'll slowly start to gain their trust and all of you will become a happy odd but cute family. (except for cannibalism stuff, murder and all)

I realised how different the energy and vibes are between bubba snd Thomas wtff

#bubba sawyer #bubba sawyer x reader #bubba saywer x reader #thomas hewitt my beloved #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #texas chainsaw the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm the beginning #tcm 2003 #tcm thomas #tcm bubba #slashers x you #x child reader #child!reader #child reader #x daughter!reader #x son reader #platonic

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sublimeinal-messages · 1 month

Text

The Power Of Love And Incredible Violence - 0.08 “The Hyjacker”

"You like me for my personality?" "I know, I was surprised too." Judith Chase hasn't had a moment to herself since she was recruited into the Umbrella Academy as their new number Eight. Whether it be by killer robots, talking dogs, time travel, or end-of-the-world apocalypses, something's always going on. But if she's learned anything after all that time, distance, and absurdity, it's that love is the answer to everything. Even if the people you spend your life with are just... the dumbest idiots in every timeline and alternate universe.

(She wouldn't have it any other way)

In light of season 4 and all the tragedy that came with it, here’s a link to my own ✨completed✨ rewrite of the umbrella academy (s1 & s2, with a sequel rewrite of s3 in the works!) that focuses heavily on found family, healing from trauma, and holding certain abusive father figures accountable instead of brushing everything under the rug. The family literally gets their own family therapist (and Mr. pennycrumb!) Add a dash of five/oc, so slowburn it takes multiple years to develop, and so many group hugs as they save the world, one mishap at a time. I have never loved writing a bunch of characters more than I did these guys ❤️ and I can’t wait to write more of them in the sparrow-filled sequel.

Check it out here!! 💖🐶

#tua s4 #umbrella academy #tua oc #umbrella academy oc #original character #tua #tua fix it fic #fix it fic #the umbrella academy season 4 #txt #mine #five/oc #did I mention it’s over 600k words and counting?#judith #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves

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blurredcolour · 8 months

Text

I Wish You Love | Part Four

I Wish You Love Masterlist

Lewis Nixon x Housemaid!Female Reader

The end of the war feels so near and yet still so far off. Questions of the future and feelings of impatience plague you and Lewis equally.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Angst, Class Divide, Infidelity, Dishonesty, Lots of Kissing, Sexual Tension and Innuendos, Language, Smoking, Alcohol Consumption, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Author's Note: Surprise (as in no surprise whatsoever), this is not the final part of this series. There is one more part, because Bee does not know how to be brief. Reader's nationality is British and liberties have been taken in describing her background and family life for the sake of plot. No physical descriptions or y/n used. A good portion of this fic will be letter-based. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 4378

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Perhaps it was the English in you, but no matter how deliriously giddy you felt at the hopeful tone of Captain Nixon’s reply, you still found it necessary to make things absolutely clear. To add a strong dose of realism and seek confirmation of things in concrete terms. Settling in at the kitchen table once dinner had been cleaned up after and your father was properly ensconced in his favourite chair, listening to the wireless, you pulled out your writing supplies and took a direct approach.

Lewis, in all his Americanness, was having none of it. His response arrived promptly, two weeks later.

Four long months passed. Eight more letters crossed the Channel, four apiece. Spring blossomed before wilting into heat of summer. Germany surrendered. The Japanese held on until mid-August. You managed to assemble an untold number of shells without injury, though the skin of your face and hands as well as the halo of hair around your face became tinged as yellow as your fellow canary girls.

Word came from Austria that Johnny was on his way home, after six long years away. The universe works in mysterious ways, leading both of the men you cared for most in all the world to Austria to manage the occupation after Germany’s surrender. Lewis had kept you up to date on the dissolution of his marriage – the loss of his treasured dog Edgar, as well as his house, and custody of his son. You did your best to remain reassuring and supportive in your letters, reminding him of the untold potential of your future together.

Your immediate future, however, was somewhat more precarious. With so many men returning home from the war, employment was in high demand and the expectation was for women to return to the roles they had occupied before 1939 – where they ‘belonged.’ You were grateful you had lived well within your means, accumulating sufficient savings to see you through the end of your job at the factory in July and the seemingly endless search for new work since. With the effects of TNT still tainting your appearance, work in a shop was out of the question – such establishments immediately turning their noses up at you.

You had picked up a few clients as a charwoman, but unless you found many more, and quick, things were going to become very difficult indeed. Making your way home one midday at the end of August, you smoothed a hand over your hair, feeling positively overheated and unkempt after a particularly demanding morning scrubbing Mr. and Mrs. Danes house. As you rounded the corner of the lane you’d lived on most of your life, your feet stuttered to a stop at sight of the figure leaning against the front of the building of flats, sharing a cigarette with your father.

Neither of them had spotted you yet, and you swallowed roughly as your eyes drank in the dashing appearance of Captain Lewis Nixon in his dress uniform, sporting the short cut Eisenhower jacket that showed off his trim waist and long legs. You could not have felt more drab in your worn work dress, wishing desperately you could dash inside and freshen up but there was nothing for it now as he had lifted his eyes. You could see his smile from half a block away as he began striding towards you confidently, flicking his cigarette into the street as he rapidly closed the distance.

With small, hopefully furtive, movements you did your best to tidy your hair and the fall of your dress against your body.

“Darling.” Lewis smiled warmly, capturing your hands, ceasing your fretting as his long fingers enveloped yours. His eyes raked over your face with an expression that carried nothing but wonder.

If you had felt warm before, hearing the term of endearment he’d begun to use in his letters fall from his lips was akin to walking on the surface of the sun. “Lewis.” You breathed shakily, swallowing tightly at the brilliant grin he bestowed upon you in response as his hands squeezed yours tightly.

“Christ, you are a wonder to behold.” He murmured stepping closer and you raised an eyebrow skeptically as you very much felt otherwise. “No, I insist.” One broad hand slid to your waist, your heart racing as you found your own feet shuffling closer, your tongue darted out to wet your lips nervously. His eyes dropped to focus on your mouth a moment before his adam’s apple bobbed rapidly. “I’m going to kiss you now.” He warned you softly, gripping your waist with both hands now as he pulled you closer still.

The most you could manage in response was a rapid nod before his mouth was upon yours, lips gentle at first, moving slowly before they became insistent and eager. Fingers gripping at his biceps, curling into the fabric of his jacket, you tilted your head back in surrender, mouth pliant beneath his. He tasted of tobacco, smelled of his intoxicating aftershave and something that was uniquely Lewis. You could only hope there was something to recommend you in that moment and were heartened as he pulled you somehow even tighter to him, eliminating the last millimetres of space between your bodies.

Lewis’s lips pulled back from yours slowly, allowing you to suck in a shuddering breath as he pressed his face to your hair, an action he’d often described in his letters, realized at last. “Darling…” He whispered once more, tenderly, and you slid your arms around his shoulders to hold him fully.

“Welcome back, Lewis.” You sighed, finally allowing relief to wash over you.

“Thank you.” His lips brushed against your temple before he straightened slowly, fingers tracing along your jaw tenderly. “Your father tells me you should have some time to spend with me this afternoon?”

You tried not to frown at the reminder of all the free time you had on your hands, the economic implications thereof, and nodded gently. “I would like that very much, but whether you admit it or not I look a fright. Please let me change and freshen up?”

“You’re right, I’ll never admit it, because it’ll never be true.” He smirked and stole one last kiss before tucking your arm into his, leading you back towards your flat.

You noted your father had retreated inside to give you some privacy – as much privacy as one could be afforded in the middle of the street, of course, but you appreciated the thought, nonetheless. You stopped on the threshold and turned to Lewis quickly. “It’s no Lydiard House, I warn you.”

“Thank god.” He smiled reassuringly, hand settling on your lower back, a flock of butterflies fluttering erratically in your abdomen as you led him inside your humble home where you father was happily reading the newspaper.

“Will you two be all right if I take a moment to change?” You asked your father and he smirked.

“We’ve been alright for the past two hours, sweet pea, off you pop.” He shooed you towards the bedroom where your meagre wardrobe was stored and you glanced at Lewis, startled to learn he’d been waiting for you that long.

“Take your time.” He nodded, settling onto the worn sofa easily.

The world seemed quite off-kilter for a moment, Lewis occupying a space so separate from that in which you had known him, and yet how many hours had you spent thinking of him while sitting on that very sofa? Smiling slowly as everything seemed to slide into its new place of belonging, you stepped into the bedroom to pull one of your nicer dresses from the closet you shared with your father. Taking it to the bathroom, you freshened up and tamed your hair, feeling much better armed to face to world as you emerged, stowing your work clothes into the hamper before you rejoined them in the sitting room.

Lewis immediately rose to his feet on your return, a shy smile tugging at your lips fondly as your father looked up from his paper.

“I do hope the pair of you are going to spend your afternoon out in the sunshine and not in here with this old bore.” His eyes twinkled in amusement. “And don’t even bother telling me you’ll be home for dinner, I’m perfectly capable of eating at the pub.”

You closed your mouth quickly, your father killing that thought before you could voice it. Grabbing your handbag, you looked up as Lewis spoke.

“I was hoping to take both of you out to dinner tomorrow night, sir?” He offered hopefully.

“That would be very generous of you, thank you. Now, on your bike.” Your father snapped his paper back into place to hide his growing grin and Lewis laced your fingers together before leading you outside, sliding his garrison cap back onto his luscious hair.

“How did you manage to get over here? I thought they were shipping you back to New York?” You asked as you closed the door behind you.

“I have a few days and then the boat leaves from Marseille. I couldn’t leave before seeing you.”

You watched as he lifted your hands to press his lips to your knuckles gently. “Thank you.” You breathed softly and he looked to you tenderly.

“I’m the one with the debt of gratitude. Will you allow me some leeway to begin repaying you for all your kindness?” The way his warm brown eyes were boring into yours, framed by his long lashes, was threatening to make your knees knock together.

Taking a steadying breath, you shook your head firmly. “You say that like you have not somehow become the centre of my entire world, Lewis.” You countered weakly. “I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t forgiven me…”

He gently pressed a finger to your lips, shifting to whisper into your ear. “Then let me spoil you simply because I love you.”

His breath against your skin made you shiver before the meaning of his words registered and you pulled back to look at him, eyes wide. “Lewis…” Your gaze skittered across his face, drinking in the hopeful glint in his eyes, the way he held his breath awaiting your response, before you hesitantly leaned forward to brush your lips against his. “I love you too.” You barely had time to exhale before he cupped your cheek to kiss you deeply.

Pulled back to bestow a warm grin on you, he squeezed your hand softly. “Allow me to lead you to the car before I give you a reputation on your street.”

With a breathless laugh you nodded, following him over to the civilian vehicle that you had no idea from where he’d procured, sliding into the passenger’s seat on the lefthand side. “You’re a very mysterious man, Lewis Nixon.” You shook your head as he climbed in beside you, driving off easily.

“I hope not, or I intend not to be. I don’t like keeping secrets from you, darling. I much prefer being completely open and honest with you.”

You smiled fondly as your heart throbbed in your chest. “Where are we going, then?”

“Your father allowed me to check the pictures playing at your local cinema and it seems there is an afternoon showing of the Wizard of Oz – I thought you might enjoy that?” He glanced over at you, smiling when you nodded quickly. “Then some window-shopping and dinner?”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at the second activity, but dinner certainly sounded lovely. “That sounds like a wonderful day.”

“Good.” He nodded, navigating his way through the narrow streets until he found the cinema and a parking spot.

The pair of you arrived just in time to purchase a few snacks and settle into the half-empty theatre. Mid-afternoon was not a very popular time on a weekday, after all.

“I haven’t been to see a film in years.” You whispered as he lifted the armrest to snake his arm around your waist and pull you close, making you bite your lip.

“Me neither.” He admitted, resting his fingers against your hip softly as the picture started.

You knew you shouldn’t let him hold you so close, particularly not in such a public place, and yet it was dark in the theatre and in all honestly you probably could not have born any distance between you, needing him as near as possible after so long apart. After falling so deeply in love with him. It did, however, make it awfully difficult to focus on the film. Your eyes continued to flick between the screen and his profile, inhaling deeply, enjoying the press of him along your side despite the added warmth of his body heat.

Somehow you did manage to remember to pay attention to the scene where Dorothy’s home landed after the twister, gnawing your lip in anticipation as she made her way to the front door and inhaling in wonder as the colourful land of Oz lay on the other side. The transition held just as much magic as it had the only other time you’d seen the film, a grin unfurling on your face as she wandered through the quaint village, passed the pond filled with lotus leaves. As your eyes inevitably shifted to sneak a look at Lewis you jumped slightly as they met his own directly, already watching you intently with a fond smile on his face.

Wordlessly he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips before turning back to the screen with a very pleased expression on his face. Sharing your treats, you enjoyed the film together in companionable silence, not a hairsbreadth of space between you, until the lights came up.

“That was even better than the first time I saw it thank you, Lewis.”

“I’m very glad, you’re welcome.” He grinned, pressing a kiss to your temple before you shuffled out with the rest of the crowd.

The brilliant sunshine of midday had since been replaced by heavy clouds, rain threatening as Lewis took your hand and led you across the street to a rather upscale department store – one that you certainly had never shopped at before.

“Lewis, I didn’t bring my ration book…” You murmured nervously as he held the door open for you.

“Not to worry, we’re only window-shopping, not a shilling will be spent.” He winked, taking your arm once you were both inside and leading you around, getting your opinions on all sorts of things. Men’s clothing, women’s, toys, trinkets, before leading you over to the jewelry counters.

“Good lord…” You breathed at some of the more ostentatious engagement rings they had on display with massive diamonds.

Lewis smirked at you as he leaned against the case. “A bit much for your taste, darling?”

“Entirely too much.” You nodded firmly. “I don’t know how a woman could accomplish anything with a ring that size on her finger.”

“I suppose she wouldn’t be expected to, but that sort of life doesn’t really seem your speed does it.”

Looking to him slowly as this conversation took on a rather layered meaning, you shook your head. “No, I don’t think it would. Even if I did not need an income, I would most definitely need a purpose.”

“Noted.” He replied with a nod before moving towards a more modest selection. “Are these a little more to your liking then?”

Swallowing dryly you gave him a slow nod. “They are quite nice, yes.” You nodded, feeling suddenly rather nervous. Not in a bad way, but your heart most certainly could not remember how to beat properly despite you trying to remind yourself that it was only ‘window-shopping.’

Sensing your distress, Lewis led you over to inspect the necklaces, your tension easing without rows of engagement rings on display in front of you. After sampling a few perfumes, he smiled to you. “Ready for dinner?”

“Are you certain you didn’t need to make any sort of purchases?”

“That would be against the premise of window-shopping darling, was there anything you needed though?” He raised an eyebrow, and you shook your head, glancing back toward the store before turning to him.

“I’m fine, thank you.” You replied stubbornly and he squeezed your hand, the pair of your heading back outside as thunder rumbled long and low along the darkening street.

“I hope we can make it back to car.” He glanced at you quickly and you both immediately started hurrying your steps.

The skies opened up then and you quickly darted beneath the awning of a small shop that seemed to be closed for the day, yanking Lewis beneath its shelter as sheets of rain began to come down.

“Damn…” He laughed, shaking his head as you giggled softly in reply.

“Shouldn’t last long, doesn’t usually when summer storms pop up like this.” A brilliant flash of lightning cut through the gloom making you flinch and step closer to him, the resulting thunder startling you in turn.

“I’ve got you darling, nothing to worry about.” He slid his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest comfortingly as the rain fell so hard it rebounded off the pavement, practically obscuring the world outside your tiny dry square of shelter.

Reaching out to caress his cheek gratefully, his lips met yours halfway, seemingly unable to resist one another after so many months of denial. Lewis’s hand splayed across your lower back, moulding you to him as his tongue swept into your mouth, drawing a reflexive whimper from your throat. Giving in to impulse, you allowed your fingers to slide into the dark locks of his hair beneath his cap as his tongue dragged along yours, making it awfully difficult to keep on your feet.

The sound of the rain and intermittent crashes of thunder faded away into the background, all your focus drawn onto the man in your arms and your stolen moment amidst the chaos around you. Time became irrelevant as all sensation narrowed to his excruciatingly thorough kiss and the way it raised your body temperature, your body itself raising onto your tip toes to crush against his torso wantonly. A hum of approval rumbled through his chest, which you felt more than heard courtesy of the early evening thunderstorm, a tremor running through you in silent reply.

Lewis’s lips wrenched back from yours, his chest heaving, his normally rich brown eyes darkened by something you’d never seen before, something wild, primal. It made your thighs clench slightly to see it, his nostrils flaring as he surely felt the motion given that you were very much still pressed against him. You stared at one another, unmoving, silent, yet in your hazy state you still managed to note that the tumult around you was easing up, the other side of the street becoming visible through the curtain of rain.

“Dinner.” He eventually exhaled, taking a reluctant step back to reintroduce a respectable distance.

“Mmm.” You replied nonsensically with a nod of affirmation as the rain petered out to no more than a mist, frantic drips falling from the awning in the aftermath of the squall.

Lewis eyed you intensely a moment, swallowing visibly before wrenching his gaze from your face and continuing back towards the car with your hand tucked into his elbow. By the time the pair of you arrived at a rather nice, but not too nice, restaurant you’d both managed to regain a sense of composure. Lewis navigated the menu and wine list expertly and you were happy to let him do so, rather afraid to look at the prices.

His choices were impeccable, some of the best you’d ever eaten, certainly since before the start of the war, and though you were growing tired at the end of the evening as he pulled up to the flat you shared with your father, you were also loath for it to end.

“Where are you staying?” Your eyes widened as you realized you’d forgotten to ask such a pivotal question.

“The Goddard Arms, it’s quite suitable – far superior to a fox hole at any rate. May I pick you up around the same time tomorrow?”

Running through your mental list of clients, you nodded, noting happily you would have some time to change before his arrival. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Perfect. I’d like to take you on a drive and a picnic, just so you can plan your wardrobe accordingly.” He winked teasingly. “I’ll walk you to your door.” He slid from the car as you laughed warmly, coming around to open your door and help you from the vehicle.

As he led you up the walk and into the building, you smiled to him softly. “Today was incredible, Lewis, thank you very much.”

“Glad you enjoyed it, I intend to outdo myself tomorrow.” He smirked and you smothered your laugh behind your hand, not wanting to disrupt the neighbours.

“Sleep well then, best to keep up your strength.” You teased before your eyes widened slightly at the unintended innuendo.

“Please, I beg you, don’t tempt me anymore than you already are, darling.” He muttered, voice taking on a dangerous tone as he leaned in to kiss you fiercely.

You clung to his shoulders, feeling quite at risk of being swept away by his intensity, breath shaking as he pulled back.

“Good night.” He rasped.

You nodded, speechless and fumbling with the door to the flat before eventually making it inside.

--------------------------

Read Part Five

I Wish You Love Masterlist

Tag list: @ronsparky, @fuckoffthanos, @bcon24, @gretagerwigsmuse

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