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look-at-the-soul · 2 months

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Every little thing you do- Part 3

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

A/N: I’m sorry I couldn’t post this past Saturday something came up, so next part will be posted on next Wednesday and so on until I go back to post each Saturday. ♥️ Thank you for reading and engaging in this little idea! It means a lot!

Word count: 3,038

After listening to the doctor assure her that the baby was fine last week, Y/N had a lot of time to think and digest all the major changes she was about to face. She couldn’t help but stay up at night and cry endlessly on her own, but after a few days Y/N had finally made a decision. It wasn’t easy, but like her grandmother had said, she didn’t have many options.

Polly had also talked to her with her heart on her sleeve. She had assured her that in the end, women did well with or without a man by their side, her own husband passed away after getting too drunk, Tommy’s father wasn’t the best example to lead a family, Y/N knew too well how their relationship ended up, Ada had married Freddy only for him passing away too soon and she had raised Karl on her own.

She was right, but there was a huge difference, regardless of the useless men in their lives, they still had their last name as support. It didn’t mean anything, but legally it granted them more rights than being a single mother. The injuries on her back had been healing, she was now able to wear her regular clothes and even though she still flinched at times from the pain, it felt nice to move around more freely.

At least she had a place to sleep and food to eat, so at the moment she got it covered. She needed to save as much money as she could though, she had to think of the future.

Staring out the window, she noticed Tommy parking outside, so she rushed downstairs.

“Tommy,” Y/N greeted him. He had been to London, but barely stayed for a night. “How was your trip?”

Tommy hesitated for an instant. Under different circumstances he would’ve shared the new business Mr. Churchill had mentioned at their meeting, but he thought Y/N already had enough in her plate to add anymore pressure. He was still deciding how to manage everything with the Russians and until he got clearer instructions he’d try to keep her out of it.

“Good. I still need to go back next week though.” He followed Y/N into the kitchen, placing a small paper bag on the table. “Brought you something.”

Y/N filled two cups of the tea she started earlier and as she was about to take them to the table, Tommy rushed to get them from her hands.

“I can walk around with them, Tom. I’m only pregnant.” Y/N chuckled at his sudden protectiveness.

“Yeah, what if you feel dizzy? You could burn yourself.” He added worryingly.

But Y/N was busy drooling over the bread Tommy brought.

“Well?” Tommy gave her a long look as he added sugar to his tea.

Y/N looked up at Tommy with her mouth full, the bread was so good!

“Oh! Right… I just wanted to ask if you’re still good with the idea of me living in Arrow House? I don’t want this to cause you troubles with someone.” She took a deep breath and stared down at her hands.

Tommy blinked a couple of times in confusion. “Problems with who? What do you mean?”

It was hard to put her feelings into words, the right words as a matter of fact. Lately she had been having lots of big feelings, lots of things to be afraid of…

Y/N moved nervously. “I’ve never been noisy about your personal affairs Tom, and I don’t want to be in the middle in case you’ve a-a you know… a woman in your life.” She admitted, her voice trailing off by the end.

He squinted his eyes, not quite believing what he just heard. Then he started laughing, a loud, genuine laugh. “This is ridiculous, you’ve nothing to worry about.”

Only then, she dared to look at him, to read his expression.

“Is this what’s keeping you from accepting? Y/N, look,” Tommy took a few steps towards her, his hands found their way to her cheeks to make her look at him. “I’m going to help you no matter what. Just tell me if you accept or not, I’ll take care of the rest.”

They have had each others back over the years, and now it wouldn’t be different.

“I do need to ask you for a favor though.” Y/N folded her arms. “I will need that job you offered me as secretary a while ago.”

“But you’re pregnant.” He protested.

She was already shaking her head. “I don’t want your pity or charity, I need to work.”

With a sigh, Tommy found himself nodding in agreement. She was stubborn and wouldn’t stay still for too long.

“Deal. Although if you feel sick…”

“I’ll take it easy, I promise.”

This time, it was Tommy who pulled her in for a hug, grateful because Y/N accepted the help he was offering genuinely.

“What made you change your mind from your initial decision?” He asked with curiosity.

Y/N took a sip of her tea, feeling grateful after noticing her stomach was taking it nicely. “My grandma helped me see it through. This is the most decent offer I’ll probably get.”

“So you’re accepting because it’s your only option?” Tommy teased.

“Shut up.” She shoved him slightly on the shoulder.

She still needed to send a letter to Lady Winchester to let her know she wouldn’t be able to return to work. Until now she had lied and said she got sick and didn’t want to risk her, but she needed to digest this upcoming change first.

Later that week, Y/N had officially moved into Arrow House. She didn’t own many things other than her clothes that her grandmother managed to take from her house, her hairbrush and a small bag that Polly gave her. So here she was, on her way to an unknown future full of uncertainty, but with a little baby growing inside her. And the incondicional support of the people who were so close to her heart.

Everyone in the Shelby family had been nothing but kind and welcoming to her, offering to help her carry whatever she had on her hands, telling her how they would welcome the baby with a peaky cap and defend her from cruel comments.

Her eyes danced around, she still gasped at the sight of the spacious foyer, the only difference she noticed is that it now had more furniture and different curtains.

“Mary.”

“Good evening Mr. Shelby, may I take your coat?” A maid welcomed them, moving fast to get the coat from him, she then pointed at the briefcase. She even had uniform!

“This is Miss YL/N, she’ll use the guest bedroom I asked you to prepare.” Then he turned to face Y/N. “Mary will help you with everything, please make yourself at home.”

“Nice to meet you.” Y/N admitted with a smile, but deep down she was in shock to see that a maid was practically guessing Tommy’s every move.

“Of course Mr. Shelby.” The maid gave her a subtle look, but didn’t ask any more questions. “Follow me Miss.”

Turning around, Tommy changed his mind. “Actually… Mary take her suitcase upstairs, Y/N come with me.”

Feeling overwhelmed, she followed him, crossing a huge room, Tommy explained her it was his office, he was holding the door open for her to walk in.

“An office! Look at this place… it’s bigger than our kitchen and living room together.” Y/N couldn’t believe this, she took her time to take everything in; the impressive desk, the endless bookshelves -some where still empty-, the fireplace. “You got a painting?!”

Tommy looked down, understanding her surprise. “Is it too much?” Sometimes it all felt surreal to him.

Y/N didn’t think it was her place to point wherever it was or not too much, he could do whatever he pleased with his wealth.

“It’s just I’m not used to all of this.” She shuddered.

There was something different sparkling in his eyes. It was like she was watching the boy with big dreams and killer smile all over again.

“Yeah… me neither.”

Tommy took a long puff of his cigarette, but Y/N wrinkled her nose.

“Are you feeling sick?” He noticed the sounds she made, she was holding her stomach with one hand.

“I think it’s the smell of the cigarette.”

“Shit.” Tommy opened the window and curtains to allow some fresh air to get in and then he stomped his almost untouched cigarette on the ashtray. “Better?”

“Thanks.” She then chuckled. “Sorry I don’t want to be a burden for you.”

“Hey it’s fine, it’s just a cigarette.” He waved at the air to keep the smell from concentrating in the room.

A knock on the door caught their attention, Y/N even jumped in her seat a little.

“Mr. Shelby, dinner will be ready shortly.” Mary announced.

He nodded and asked for a glass of water for Y/N.

“This feels so surreal if you ask me.” She made a funny face that made him laugh.

“I guess I’ll get used to it.”

Pouring some whiskey into the new glassware set he got, he thought about it.

“Look at us.” Y/N said absently, her face moving towards the ceiling. “Who would have thought you’d get a place like this and I’d be expecting a child without a male support.” She rubbed a hand on her still non-existent bump.

Tommy clicked his tongue and gave her an offended look. “What about me?”

“You know what I mean.” She added after noticing his eyes fixed on her.

“How about dinner?” He offered his hand to Y/N. “Let’s see what the chef prepared. Ey?”

Earning another chuckle from Y/N guided her towards the opposite end. A huge table set just for them.

“There’s another painting!” Y/N pointed through gritted teeth.

A huge portrait of Tommy hanged immaculately on the wall. She could barely keep up with the things going on in her life, but it seemed to be surprise after surprise with his own news.

“Just ignore it.” Tommy suggested taking his place at very end, right under the painting. “I needed to spend some money.”

Rolling her eyes at him, Y/N joined him unsure. “Where should I sit then?”

Patting the place next to him, Tommy stood up. “Right here, next to me.” And he held the chair for her, like a true gentleman. A gesture no one had ever made towards her.

“Are you sure I can’t sleep downstairs? I’ll take me forever to walk down… image how I’ll roll down once I get all heavy?”

The image of her swollen stomach invaded his mind for a second, Tommy stopped with his hand holding the glass midway, until he shook his head a little.

“You always love to exaggerate it, it’s not so big.” He added as come back.

“It’s huge and you know it.” She added just before the maids brought their plates.

Y/N was about to take a bite of her food when she noticed something.

“Tommy.” She whispered, making Tommy lean forward. “Do they have to stay there and stare? This is awkward.”

Tommy laughed freely.

“Mary, would you give us a moment?”

“What if you need-”

“I’ll call you.” He interrupted.

She was surprised to see them following Tommy’s requests in a heartbeat. They were eager to please him in every possible way.

“This is insane, they’re watching your every move.”

Tommy chuckled unsure of what to say, he was still trying to adjust to this new lifestyle, trying to be part of a select club to fit in the upper class.

“Well I’m paying them a ridiculous amount of money.”

“You know what I mean.” She stated smirking.

He did, of course he did.

This was the kind of things people like he and Y/N could only dream a few years ago.

“Just enjoy it, you’ll get used to it.”

He smiled at his friend, understanding her confusion. A major change like that in his life didn’t happen overnight, it took time and a lot of effort to built the fucking empire he now owned. It was about damn time that he started getting a small luxury like that property or the service for the place.

Y/N had to admit the food was delicious, she had never tasted anything better than that meal.

“I’m really proud of you.” She expressed as they finished. “It’s like you made your dreams come true, you made it out of Small Heath not from the back door, you made it through the main gate.”

Tommy swallowed hard, Y/N was the only person that had celebrated with him the small victories just as the big ones. He was lost for words, to realize that she felt proud of him meant more that he could express.

“Would you like dessert?” Mary asked folding her hands.

Turning to face Y/N, Tommy realized the way her eyes sparkled. “Just one for her, please.”

She groaned. “This is going to be a problem, you’re going to make me put on some weight with all of this food.”

“Well you need to feed that baby.” Tommy leaned his elbows on the table.

“You don’t even know how grateful I am to have you in my life, you’re saving our lives.” She touched his arm.

“That’s what friends do.” He chuckled as he saw her mouthwatering expression over the plate.

A few moments later, Tommy walked her towards her bedroom.

“This is insane, a small living room inside my bedroom?!” Y/N couldn’t believe how spacious it was.

“There’s the walk in closet, and this additional wardrobe, the vanity… everything you might need.” He added pacing around, slowly. Hands hiding in his pockets. “I think you will particularly enjoy this.”

He then pointed at the window seat. Y/N gasped in surprise, she hadn’t noticed it.

“Woah… Tommy.”

When she turned around, Tommy noticed the tears in her eyes.

“Hey what’s wrong?” He stepped closer.

“You’re just so good to me, I can’t thank you enough for providing a roof to sleep under.” Y/N sobbed.

Her vulnerability broke him. It tore him apart to realize how hard this was to her. His arms found their way around her immediately.

Emotions coming out in the form of tears.

“Y/N… talk to me.”

“It’s just…sad to see my own family doing this to me. The days I spent at Watery Lane, they never went to ask how I was doing.” A sudden sob interrupted her explanation. “To check if I needed something.”

He didn’t know what to say, her family’s message was clear and he could only imagine how she was feeling.

“But you’ve my family,” he offered rubbing her back, “we’ll be with you every step of the way. Try to forget about it, you need to be calm.” He then took a step back, but kept touching her arm, “Think of your baby.”

That seemed to do the trick, because his words made Y/N smile.

“You’re so right.” Y/N took a deep breath. “Scott made his choice and so did my family. From now on it will be this baby, me, Grandma, you and the Shelby family. That’s all I need.”

A half smile appeared on her face. He knew the process wouldn’t be easy, it’d take her some time to rebuild herself, but she had the determination and courage to carry on with whatever obstacle life decided to make her face.

A flash back ran through Tommy’s mind, he went back to the warehouse and he could still hear Scott’s pleads for his life. The blinders had been playing with him for a while and Tommy took his time. But when he faced him, Scott’s eyes were fully swollen, an ugly lip cut and several bruises all over his face.

“You thought you could fuck off like a rat?! Ey?!” He shouted in his face, yanking his hair so Scott could be face to face with him. “Thought it would fun to mess around with Y/N?”

A twisted smirk appeared on Scott’s lips, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy so he moved his hand back and hit him hard across the face with his fist several times.

“This is for fooling Y/N.” Tommy announced and kicked him.

“And this for not taking responsibility over the baby.” He kicked Scott between his legs this time. “Fucking coward.”

Now, with Scott lying on his back groaning in pain, Tommy stepped over him, holding him by the shirt with one hand. “And this for telling me to fuck off.”

It took three blinders to make Tommy step back, he was determined to finish him. He had to take deep breaths through his mouth from the exertion and adrenaline rush. His heart was pumping so hard and fast against his ribs.

“I want you out of the city and you better never come back. Because next time I’ll fucking kill you.”

End of flashback.

“You’re safe now.” Tommy helped her gently to sit on the edge of the bed. “You can have a new beginning here with your baby. I can assure you, you’ll get everything you need.”

Tommy offered Y/N his handkerchief.

“You deserve everything good in world Tommy.”

She knew that he meant every word, and most importantly, he’d keep his promises.

“Now have some rest, you’ve been through a lot.” He groaned as he stood up.

“At what time should I be at the office?” Y/N asked when her friend reached the door.

“8:00 o’clock,” he winked, “but I’ll drive you. Good night.”

As she thanked her best friend one more time and wished him good night, Y/N stared at the spacious bedroom. It was unbelievable, a dream she was afraid to wake up from.

Her heart still felt heavy for not having her family’s support, but in some way she felt secure and protected under Tommy’s wing.

And for now, that was enough.

Part 4

Master list

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#that’s what Cill said #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders fan fiction #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby x reader

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bumbleklee · 1 year

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something happens and im head over heels (diluc x reader)

hi hello hi! havent posted in a while so please be gentle with me (i am fragile). feel free to leave a comment, would love to chat with you guys about this little piece

pairing: diluc x gn!reader

characters: diluc, baby!klee, reader, unnamed neighbor

synopsis: diluc is stuck babysitting his neighbor’s baby–the only problem? he isn’t really the babysitting type. good thing you are!

key tags: minor cursing, babyfic, first kiss, clueless diluc, modern!au (technically college era but no mention of college), lowkey punk!diluc

word count: 4109

“I tried calling Jean but she isn’t around and then I phoned Eula but I think I sent her into overdrive at just the thought of babysitting.” You hear Diluc shushing the baby in between words. “What if I just drop her off at the fire station and her mom can pick her up after her shift?”

“Okay–don’t do that.” You shake your head in bewilderment, imagining the absolute shit-show that would be. “You just need to calm down. She’s probably freaking out because you’re freaking out.”

There’s shuffling in the background and Diluc curses when he knocks something over. “She gave me a bag, right?” He continues, his voice laced with pure disconcertment, “And I don’t even know what half of this stuff is. There’s like a bunch of plastic thingies and a bag of powder that kind of looks like meth–”

“Not meth.” You interrupt him. “I mean, probably not meth.”

“That’s not the point,” Diluc emphasizes, “The point is that I’m a fucking loss and really need your help.”

(full story underneath cut)

Diluc Ragnvindr doesn’t know much about his neighbor. He knows that she’s young, probably in her late 20s or early 30s, and that she’s a single mom to a little baby girl (who has a tendency to wake up in the middle of the night and cry so loudly that it nearly wakes up everybody in their apartment building). He also knows that she works at the local hospital–specifically in the emergency room–and that her mom usually comes around every evening to watch the baby. But other than a simple wave to each other when they simultaneously take the trash out, Diluc doesn’t really know her.

So when she shows up on his doorstep at eight thirty at night with a bundle of pink blankets in her arms and a panicked look across her face, Diluc was, to say the least, surprised.

“Um, you’re Diluc, right?” She stammers nervously, bouncing the baby in her arms. “Crepus’ son?”

Diluc blinks once. Then twice. “Yeah,” He says, “That’s me.”

The woman stares at Diluc for a moment, like she was contemplating everything in her life that had led up to this point, before heaving a desolate sigh. “Is your dad home by any chance?” Her tone suggests she already knows the answers and Diluc catches her anxious eyes darting from him to the vague view of his living room.

“He’s away this weekend. Sorry.”

“Dammit.” His neighbor thinks for a while longer, clicking her tongue against the inside of her mouth a few times before asking, “Have you ever babysat before?”

Diluc holds back a laugh. Babysit? Him? This must have been a life-or-death situation if his sweet neighbor was asking him to watch her daughter. Because, sure, they didn’t know each other but Diluc doesn’t doubt for a moment that she has some assumptions based on his appearance alone.

“Err…isn’t there anyone else you can ask?” Diluc asks awkwardly, his eyes drifting down the apartment hallway as if someone much more suitable for the role is going to pop out.

“Believe me, you’re the last person I would have thought about asking.” His neighbor says nonchalantly and Diluc tries not to take offense. “But there was a bad accident on Route 46 and I was called in to the hospital. My mom is out of town too, otherwise I would have asked her. And–” She gestures to the closed doors lining the long hallway, “–I don’t even think anyone lives in those apartments. At least I know your place is habitable.” She pauses again and her eyes shift down, gazing sadly at the quiet baby in her arms. "It's so hard being a single parent...I barely have any help and just..."

Her voice wavers more and more with each word and it looks like she’s about to start crying. But before she could crack, Diluc huffs quietly and crosses his arms across his chest.

“Okay, okay,” He says exasperatedly. “I’ll watch her. Go save lives. Or whatever.”

His neighbor’s face lights up at his agreement and before Diluc can fully comprehend what's happening, the baby is being shoved in his arms and a black bag full of many things is dropped at his feet. She whirls around, straightening her scrubs, and looks over her shoulder one last time.

“Call the front desk if you need anything!” She calls, blowing a kiss to her daughter.

“Wait!” Diluc yells, a sudden wave of dread washing over him. “Does she need to eat? How do you change a diaper? Does she have a name?”

Ignoring his more-important questions, his neighbor yells back, “Her name is Klee! Thanks again!”

Diluc watches as his neighbor races towards the elevator at the end of the hall, presses a button, and disappears from view. He stares at the empty hallway for a second before the baby in his arms makes a noise–reminding him that, oh yeah, he’s in charge of a baby now.

He turns to look at the baby, his arms tightening around his tiny frame, and mumbles to no one in particular. “What did I get myself into?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

Your phone rings four times before you manage to grab it. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” You say to the ringtone before grabbing your cell phone off your bedside table and swiping across the screen without bothering to look at who was calling you. “Hello?”

“Hey. I need your help.”

“Diluc?” You zone in on his voice and immediately pick out exhaustion, agitation, and even a little fear. And the more you listen, the more you notice…a crying baby? “I swear to God, Ragnvindr, if you kidnapped a baby and want me to be your getaway–”

“I didn’t kidnap anything!” Diluc abruptly snaps. “Shit, shit, it’s okay, Klee…” You rub your forehead in confusion as Diluc explains that he’s babysitting for his neighbor. “Fuck–everything was fine for, like, twenty minutes and then she started crying and she hasn’t stopped since! I don’t know what to do!”

You hold back a giggle. Of course notorious ‘bad boy’ Diluc Ragnvindr doesn't know what to do with a crying baby. You aren’t surprised–in fact, you’d be more surprised if he did know what to do.

“Not meth.” You interrupt him. “I mean, probably not meth.”

“That’s not the point,” Diluc emphasizes, “The point is that I’m a fucking loss and really need your help.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

When you finally get to Diluc’s apartment, his front door is unlocked so you let yourself inside. You assume your friend has his hands full with the baby anyways.

“Luc?” You ask, wandering into the disaster-zone Diluc calls his living room. Dish rags and bathroom towels are thrown everywhere, there were random baby items all over the floor, and the yellow powder that Diluc thought was meth was spilled on a couch cushion (and upon closer investigation, you realize it’s just baby formula). You snake down the apartment halls until you spot Diluc in the kitchen.

He already looks so spent. His hair is loose from its usual ponytail, locks frizzy and tangled, and his eyes are tired and pleading. He leans against the fridge, bouncing a wailing baby in his arms robotically.

“Hey.” You greet with a teasing smirk. “Nice baby. Where’d you get it?”

“Shut up.” Diluc murmurs, a frown etched deep into his face. Your smirk morphs into a sympathetic smile and you hold your arms expectedly. Diluc doesn’t hesitate to transfer Klee into your embrace and while her cries don't cease entirely, they quiet to a whiny whimper as she tries to process who you are.

“What’s the matter?” You coo sweetly, rubbing Klee’s back with a gentle hand. “Is Diluc being mean and scary?”

“Hey!”

“I'm just kidding.” You laugh briefly and turn your attention back to the baby in your arms, looking for any physical signs of distress–not that you thought Diluc would have ignored them, but he was so frazzled that maybe he missed something. When you adjust Klee against your hip, her face scrunches up in discomfort and she pushes against your chest. You hum in recognition and move her onesie aside to see if there’s a blue stripe on her diaper. And sure enough, there is. “She just needs her diaper changed.”

Diluc pales visibly. “How do I do that?” He fumbles with the hem of his Pearl Jam t-shirt. “Are there instructions on the diaper or something?”

You laugh again and roll your eyes playfully, “I’ll show you.”

Diluc takes Klee from you so you can rummage through the black bag on the floor and pull out a package of wipes and a clean diaper. Diluc watches you in amazement and wonders how someone could be so calm and collected about something that made him want to crawl up the wall. You grab a nearby towel–the cleanest one, to be honest–and lay it on the ground before taking Klee back from Diluc and setting her down on top of it. Your quick fingers unsnap the metal buttons on her onesie and discard the dirty diaper, cleaning Klee up and sliding a fresh diaper underneath her wiggling body.

“See?” You beam, pressing down the sticky sides of the diaper. “Super easy!”

“For you,” Diluc mumbles. He sits on the edge of the couch and watches you interact with Klee like you’ve known her forever. You tap her belly occasionally, enticing a giggle, and the baby kicks her legs excitedly. She was attentive, reaching out towards you and babbling incoherent sentences loudly. She was loud, and a little annoying, but if Diluc was being honest, he was just glad that she wasn’t crying anymore. “When’d you become a baby whisperer?”

You clean up and drag Klee into your lap, letting her play with your sweatshirt strings. “My mom used to watch my cousins,” You explain, “And I guess I picked up on a thing or two.”

Diluc hums in response. Watching you play with Klee made him feel warm. Not a bad warm, but a good warm that filled his stomach with butterflies and made his chest feel weightless. Part of him was totally impressed by you and your ability to swoon over everyone and anyone–including little babies like Klee–unlike himself, who became a quivering mess during the unknown. You kept your cool no matter what. You owned every situation life threw at you so yeah, Diluc was totally impressed.

But even more than that, Diluc is glad that you gave him the time of day. You could have brushed him off, could have told him to figure it out, but you went out of your way to drive across town and hold a baby–a stranger’s baby, even–just because he asked.

“You know…” You voice grabs Diluc’s attention again and he gazes down at the floor where you’re sitting. “I was supposed to go out with Itto Arataki tonight. But I canceled our date to come here.”

Diluc holds back the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah?” He says instead.

He knows Itto Arataki back from high school–though they were never particularly friends. He was captain of the football team and had a 2.3 GPA and drove the most obnoxious and ugly muscle car in town. Diluc didn’t care for him then, doesn’t care for him now, and the more he thinks about your potential date with him, the more a feeling of irritation grows in the pit of his stomach.

“Yeah,” You say casually. You face Diluc and silently mimic packing and rolling a joint in the air. “He was going to give me a free eighth.”

Diluc stifles a laugh, “What a steal.” He doesn’t particularly care to hear about how you were going to smoke with Itto (because–you could smoke with him instead). “You could have gone if you wanted to.”

You shrug, “And miss out on hanging with my best friend, Klee?” You tickle her feet and blow on the top of her head before looking at Diluc again. “This is ten times more fun than hanging out with Itto Arataki, anyways.”

Diluc raises an eyebrow, “You’re kidding.”

You shake your head adamantly. “Nope. I’d much rather spend time with you than the idiot who only graduated because his daddy threatened to press legal action against every single teacher at that school.” For a moment, Diluc wonders if you even know what you’re saying, wonders if you realize that you just prioritized Diluc Ragnvindr–the same Diluc Ragnvindr who pierced his own ears at fourteen and sells his extra Adderall to college freshman–over Itto Arataki–the hero of your hometown. He’s about to ask if you have your head screwed on right but before he could open his mouth, Klee starts fussing again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

As the night progresses, you and Diluc come to four conclusions about one another:

Diluc is absolutely terrible with children.

You are absolutely amazing with children.

Diluc can’t stop imagining you with a different baby, maybe one with fiery red hair that kind of resembles you, and keeps shaking his head violently to disperse the invasive thought.

And you think Diluc is acting really weird because he won’t stop shaking his head. You just hope he doesn’t have lice or something. Ew.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

“She cries a lot.” Diluc comments when Klee curls her head into the crook of your neck, angry whines leaving her mouth. You frown slightly, swaying back and forth. “Do you think she’s hungry?”

“Maybe,” You shrug, moving over to the black bag and sorting through it with one hand. “Does she just take a bottle? Or does she eat solids? Do you even know how old she is?” Diluc blinks at you, not having an answer to any of your questions. “Right. Okay. One night off her routine won’t hurt.”

You carry the bag of formula–at least whatever was left in the bag–and an empty carafe to the kitchen and somehow manage to put together a bottle for Klee with one hand, all while Diluc stands back and watches. He wants to help, really, but feels like he’ll just be in the way more than anything. Klee cries more until you push the rubber tip into her mouth, but she only bothers to drink half of the bottle before she lets it slip from her mouth and pushes it away with her little hands.

Sighing, you pass Diluc the half-empty bottle. You bounce Klee in your arms for a few minutes, pat her on the back, and try to make her laugh, but to no avail–she won’t stop crying. “Maybe…she’ll calm down with some music?”

“How would I know?”

“I don’t know! Just put something on.”

Diluc grumbles something and heads into the living room, connecting his phone to the speaker. He scrolls through his Spotify playlists and clicks on a random one and hits shuffle. Heavy rock music fills the apartment and the opening chords to Enter Sandman start. You’re about to yell at Diluc for putting on such rowdy music for a baby but Klee only hiccups and turns towards the living room, her eyes wide and curious.

“No way.” You laugh breathlessly, carrying Klee to the living room. Diluc’s eyes glimmer with elation and he jumps up, grabbing Klee’s tiny hands in his big ones and singing the words to her, finally eliciting a smile from the baby.

Enter Sandman fades into Shout It Out Loud. “Well, the night’s begun and you want some fun.” Diluc taps Klee’s nose. “Did you think you’re gonna find it?” He taps her cheeks. “You gotta treat yourself like number one.” He taps her forehead. And next thing you know, Diluc has Klee in his arms and is bouncing around the living room, whirling her around in circles and dipping her up and down. “Shout it, shout it, shout it out loud!”

It was your turn to sit back and watch–as warmth spread throughout your chest.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

After an hour of dancing around the living room, Klee yawns.

It’s then that Diluc realizes his apartment isn’t really set-up for a baby. Fortunately, Klee isn’t walking yet but she is crawling, which means you and Diluc are constantly pulling chargers or wires out of her mouth. It also means that Diluc doesn’t have a crib, or anything remotely close to a crib. Maybe you could just hold her all night. Or maybe Diluc could put a blanket down in the kitchen sink and lay Klee in there or maybe…

“How many pillows do you have?”

Diluc cocks his head to the side. “What?”

“I said,” You repeat, drawing out the vowels, “How many pillows do you have? On second thought, just grab all of them and meet me in your room.”

Diluc cocks his head again, to the other side this time, and watches as you saunter down the hallway and kick open the door to his bedroom, carrying Klee inside. If it was any other night, Diluc might even throw a fit about you barging into his sacred space–but he was too exhausted to put up a fight tonight. Instead, he gathers all of the pillows from the living room, hall closet, and bedrooms.

By the time Diluc gets to you, you’re already busy doing whatever you had planned. You fluff the pillows on Diluc’s bed and lay them on either side of Klee, making sure they’re tight and secure. You take the other pillows from Diluc and finish up your makeshift barricade around the baby.

“There!” You beam proudly. “She won’t be able to roll over with all the pillows.”

Shit. You were really good at this. And here Diluc was, ready to put her in the sink.

Diluc stands stiffly in the middle of his bedroom as you run around like a headless chicken. You shut the blinds so the moonlight won’t seep through the window and turn off the floor lamp in the corner. The bedroom is veiled in darkness until you turn on a nightlight (which, in all fairness, Diluc totally forgot he owned) and a warm glow embraces the space.

Klee is fighting sleep. She wants to sleep, desperately, but her body doesn’t, and she whines uncomfortably. You sit on the edge of the bed and pat the empty spot next to you, urging Diluc to fill it. “What’s wrong?” Diluc asks–the question directed at Klee and you.

You smile softly, “She just needs some help falling asleep.”

“Um…” Diluc says, his awkwardness coming back. “Like a blanket or something?”

Without much thought, you say, “Why don’t you sing to her again?”

This catches Diluc off guard. Sure, he took choir in high school and never turned down a drunken karaoke session but singing underneath a loud metal song was very different from singing a lullaby in a silent bedroom. He didn’t want to traumatize the poor child.

“Come on,” You plead sweetly. “She loved your voice so much before…I’m sure it would lull her right to sleep.” Diluc feels his face grow warm and he looks away, not sure how to handle the compliment. He’s extremely thankful for the darkness of the bedroom that conceals his cherry-red cheeks from you.

Diluc composes himself enough to look back at you. He’s about to protest again but his voice jams in his throat when he realizes how close he is to you. Your faces are only inches apart and all Diluc had to do was lean forward and–

Klee cries out again, this time louder, and Diluc clears his throat. “Yeah, um, fine,” He manages, “But you can’t tell anyone. Especially my brother.” You make a ‘zipped and locked’ motion and Diluc twists his body so he’s facing Klee. She kicks her legs angrily, her tiny fists hands curl into fists and before Diluc really knows what’s doing, his voice leaves his mouth delicately. “I wanted to be with you alone and talk about the weather…but traditions I can trace against the child in your face.”

You can’t hide the smile that grows across your face. Diluc hates Tears for Fears, thought they were sellouts who made music for teenage girls who wanted to be different, yet here he was–singing their most popular song to an innocent little baby.

“Something happens and I’m head over heels. I never find out ‘till I'm head over heels.”

You sit back and listen. Klee is quiet now, an occasional coo leaves her lips, and you’re positive that she’s going to fall asleep any minute. So Diluc keeps singing, perfecting the song word-for-word until there’s no more lyrics to say and a sleeping baby. And secretly you’re a little bummed out–you could listen to Diluc sing forever.

But, alas, the bedroom is filled with a gentle silence and you reach across the bed to make sure the pillows are still secure before standing up and stretching your arms. And when the realization finally hits Diluc that he had just sung a baby to sleep, he wants to jump up and fistbump the air as hard as he could. He wasn’t as bad with babies as he thought and this was living proof.

“I did that!” Diluc exclaims in a hushed-whisper. He grins at you, the kind of smile that reaches his eyes and wrinkles his nose. “I got that baby to fucking sleep all by myself! God, I feel like I can do anything right now–”

Diluc doesn’t get to finish his sentence. In fact, he doesn’t even get to finish his thought. Because, in a matter of mere seconds, you’re dipping down towards Diluc on the bed and holding his face oh-so gently and crashing your lips together. And as cliche as it sounds, Diluc swears time stops.

You pull away first, your eyes big and wide. “Oh my god,” You whispered. “Luc, I just–”

“Oh.” Diluc says in a breath of air. He sits back on his hands and stares at you. He feels like his entire body is on fire.

“I’m sorry,” You continue. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s fine,” Diluc nods. “Just…”

He reaches a slender finger up and runs it across his bottom lip. You keep staring at him with utter shock written across your face and Diluc partially wants to remind you that you’re the one that kissed him. But his mouth refuses to move, refuses to speak, so he sits there in silence.

“Did you hate it?

Diluc hesitates before shaking his head, “No.”

“Good,” You say quietly. “Good.”

Diluc feels the bed dip again and you sit next to him. Your knees knock against his and when he doesn’t pull away, you take that as an invitation to lean in again. Diluc’s hand cups your jaw and everything feels fuzzy. You kiss like a champion, as expected, and Diluc kisses like each one is his last. Your mouths fit together like puzzle pieces and it’s enough to course electricity through your veins.

When he needs air, Diluc pulls back enough to press his forehead against yours. “What are you doing?” He asks solemnly.

“Kissing you,” You say–like it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

Obviously it goes deeper than that. Because you kissed Ayato and you kissed Thoma and Childe and Itto Arataki and, well, not Diluc. Except you were. You were kissing Diluc in his dark bedroom while his neighbor’s baby slept on his bed surrounded by pillows. And it was fucking mental.

And confusing. And overwhelming. And Diluc doesn’t really know how to have a single coherent thought about it.

“Hey,” You urged, “What’s the matter?”

Diluc closes his eyes so he doesn't have to look at yours staring into his soul. “I don’t know,” He admits. “Everything and nothing.” And this was true. His mind feels like a jumbled mess of broken records and no matter how hard he tries to put them together, nothing would play. He eventually equates it to getting hooked on a book he thought he would hate, and how surprised he is that he’s really into the book, but it’s too late to put it down and really needs to see how it ends. “Kiss me again.”

You do.

“Again.”

You keep kissing Diluc experimentally, like you’re trying to work your way up towards something. You kiss him until your lips are swollen and your jaws hurt and then some.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” You finally tell him.

“Really?” Diluc asks and you nod.

In the darkness of his bedroom, Diluc smiles. Kissing you doesn't necessarily mean anything. But it doesn’t not mean anything, either. Though he hopes it evolves past the darkness. At least one day.

And, knowing you, Diluc has a good feeling that it would. And hopefully without a baby in the room.

a/n: no promises i won't delete this but for now--enjoy <3

#diluc x reader #genshin x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc #diluc genshin x reader #genshin self insert #genshin fanfic #diluc fanfic #klee #metalhead diluc #AND metalhead klee #my little heart #I totally reworked a steddie fic into this btw so if u ever stumbled across that #no u didnt #i forgot how to tag #genshin impact #diluc is kind of ooc in this.......sorry!#bye for now

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alittlefrenchtree · 2 months

Note

My problem (mine, my personal opinion) is when a fandom has to behave like a cult otherwise you are immediately labeled as a hater and as a person who wants to prevent others from being happy (who's stopping you? seriously), when you have to have the same opinion as everyone or you're a hater, when you have to swallow any product that's passed to you just because that actor is there and you have to show hype otherwise you're a hater, when you can't have half an opinion on certain things because you are a hater.

It's also absurd that every time we express an opinion on something regarding Nick we have to make full-page disclaimers specifying that we are not haters that we love him that he is very talented otherwise it seems like we are attacking him, this too is becoming very annoying for me in this fandom. I love Nick, his first film I saw was Cinderella (better if I don't say what I think of that movie or they will think I'm an hater) but he's not (objectively) an untouchable Hollywood actor and this glass bell they're dropping on him is annoying.

For me, The Idea of You is a problematic film, I'm sorry, not so much for the story of the older woman who has a relationship with a young boy plus the daughter's musical crush (even if... Imagine it had been with reversed roles and it was a adult man and a young girl.. Today they would be canceling that film as if it were a crime) but it is problematic for the background of the story and it is problematic that it is all clearly inspired by a real existing person (from whom they also copied movements and clothes from when he was a boy as well as being inspired by a relationship he had when he was 17 and with a 40-year-old woman) and unconsciously or consciously continuing to use his name for this promotion.

It's not Nick's fault, although I doubt over time he didn't know what was behind that story and I find it ridiculous to sell it as the "film of the decade" (it was literally written in a review) and think such a thing is even possible? That's where objectivity is missing. Have fun with two hotties having sex (and when I read that the cinema was screaming with such scenes I felt a shiver of horror) but at least the objectivity of admitting and accepting that it will definitely not be the film of the decade ☠️ You can be fan of someone and being objective, I swear.

I'm obviously too snobbish and boring to close my eyes and watch anything just because the actors are beautiful, but give others the opportunity to express different opinions without getting angry as if someone had offended your family member.

Thank you for answering with your own words. I won’t share much more on this topic I think because it doesn’t make much sense to post it on my blog when I’m just a spectator of it and mostly because it comes back to the same thing:

Find your own people. Plenty people who love Nick have no problem not loving every single work of his. Well, even most of them won’t even mention Purple Hearts because they hate it so much, so you know, people with their own contradictions. Fandom is no unity and all Nick’s fans aren’t sharing the same opinions about everything.

About the Idea of You — I might not entirely agree here. I agree on the gender switch and double standards on age gaps but. Just because the thing it was inspired by something that might be perceived as problematic doesn’t mean the movie is problematic. The book (that I didn’t read) was already something different from reality and the movie is different from the book so I’m not sure how much the problematic label can still stand. Hayes isn’t 17. Real people with real stories that aren’t all morally above reproach inspire art all the time. Most of the time, you just don’t know about it because fiction changes and mixed things and make them different.

I’d take "the film of the decade" with a pinch of salt but for reasons that seem different than yours. In other words, not because TIOY can’t be that but because the concept itself doesn’t mean anything. The film of the decade according to who? Based on what? Grades from audiences? Grades from professional? Box office money? Streaming numbers? Awards? So called objectivity?

What would be the movie of the decade then? Dune? It won’t be the people who won’t see it or who won’t like it. It won’t even be for all people who saw it and loved it so how do you decide what is a potential contender to be the movie of the decade? I don’t see the point of asking people to admit anything, even more when they aren’t the ones who have written the words. It’s a fun movie, people are having fun with overly enthusiastic reviews because the premiere was a fun night for them. Most people know that already. It’s no big deal. Like it's no big deal if you don’t like the movie or think it will be trash.

Turns out even if I agreed with some of the statements you made previously, I don’t agree much with the development of some ideas.

#alft asks

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writteninthesewalls28 · 5 months

Text

Family

A story about a girl wanting to find out the truth

A/n: Chapter eleven already… @niallermybabe this is the new one btw!

Warnings: curse words, mentions of death

Milly’s POV:

"Did Louis call yet?" Calum asked me, standing in our kitchen, preparing the pancakes. I shook my head.

My brother had been released out of the hospital, the next day after our rather unexpected and turbulent arrival. We left two days later and now have been back in Adelaide for about two weeks. And- well. Our apology had been very emotional for both sides.

(Flashback, the day after Milly and Calum arrived in London)

"Louis, darling. I'm just gonna grab a coffee, gonna be back in a few minutes." Harry said, shooting a glance at Calum who also stood up from his chair in the hospital and said: "Yeah, I'm gonna join. Do you want something too?" Looking at me, but I only shook my head.

I still had a pounding headache from my panic attack yesterday night. Everything would help, but certainly no caffeine. Speaking from experience.

As soon as the two men left the room, I was left in silence with my big brother. There was so much to talk about, but no one was brave enough to take the first step and start talking. After the longest 2 minutes of my whole life, I finally figured, he wouldn’t say anything.

"Lou, look. I’m sorry, so sorry.“ I took a deep breath, didn’t really thought it would be so hard to say sorry to a person you grew up with. Me and Louis normally always had a really good relationship, I never would have guessed one single thing could turn it upside down. "I know you deserved better, I should’ve checked my phone and give you and Calum more information." Half way through my 'speech' I started tearing up. I truly was sorry and just wanted to fix this. I could no longer live with this broken relationship, I needed my big bro again. But I wasn’t brave enough to say that to him.

"I also owe you an apology." He finally said. I sighed in relieve.

I slowly walked towards his hospital bed and kneeled down to the floor to look at him.

Tears were shining in his eyes too.

"I shouldn’t have gotten so angry and said all these mean things to you. I just-" His voice cracked and he let out a shaky breath. "I care about you. I want to protect you. For me, you are still the little girl, building sand castles and asking me to help." I didn’t notice the tears on my cheeks, till Louis slowly wiped them away. He chuckled and continued talking. "I sometimes forget you are all grown up. And how grown up you are. I never thought, you'd turn into such a beautiful, strong and amazing woman, Milly."

This, this is my brother. How I always will remember him.

"Thank you Louis. Thank you for giving me the chance to fix this. Just remember that I am very sorry for what happened. Next time, I'll be more careful. I won’t make you worry so much again. Promise." I stood up and hugged him. Louis gave the best hugs. I saw so many posts from fans about his hugs, but to really get them, you have to experience yourself.

His hugs always make you feel so comfortable and calm. That’s what I miss the most when I'm back in Australia and not with him.

"Gonna miss you." He said while hugging me.

"Yeah, me too. Australia is too far away from home."

My brother and I agreed on calling each other once a week to stay in contact and don’t let anything come between us again. However, he mostly forgot about these calls and wasn’t home on Wednesdays. It was just a quite annoying new bad habit of my silly big bro. But honestly, I didn’t even care in the slightest. As long as us two have a fixed relationship again, I am happier than ever.

Suddenly I felt a warm hand on my left shoulder. Calum. He put down the big plate with 3 steaming pancakes down right in front of me on the table. I realized, I've been pressing my chin onto the edge my cup filled with tea for the past few minutes and now my front hair got wet from the hot steam exiting the Harry-Potter themed mug. I quickly put it down and gave Calum a little smile. I knew that both him and Niall knew how exhausting these past few days have been for me. Mentally and physically I felt just empty. Like the energy to search for my parents never even existed. I desperately wanted to continue, but right now it just didn’t seem like I actually could.

"Mills, have you thought about what you want to do for your birthday this year?" Calum asked after sitting down on the chair next to me, slowly taking a sip out of his coffee cup (we had enough arguments about the issue that coffee is just disgusting but he wouldn’t believe me, so I decided to ignore it).

"Oh… I totally forgot about that one…" My 26th birthday, on 20th of October, was only about one week away, but with all the stress over the last days I completely forgot (or ignored, who knows..) about it. What would I want to do on my birthday though?

When I was a child, my mom always gave us the opportunity to decide on an activity we could do with the whole family. I very clearly remember my 10th birthday where we went horse back riding. The little brown horse that I sat on did not want to go forward, no matter what I would do. And I, I just started crying. Out of nowhere, the horse ran away and I fell off and broke my arm. The only birthday I ever spent in the hospital.

Mom didn’t let us siblings pick any other physical sport activities for the next 3 years, much to the disappointment of Louis, a very talented football player at the time, who loved making fun of Lottie when she didn’t make a goal again.

The first few birthdays after moms passing, the siblings spent together, mostly crying in each other’s arms. Then, everyone slowly started living their own life. Louis was busy with writing songs and being a Judge at the X-Factor. I moved to Adelaide to be close to Calum and to live with him.

I would never admit it, but me and Louis held the Tomlinson-sibling-team together. After the death, Lottie, the actual older sister, simply couldn’t. So I took her part. And when it was us two, Louis and me, leaving forever, we all knew the relationship between us 7 siblings would never be the same again. Too much happened, there suddenly were too many kilometers between us.

Hence, how would I possibly want to spent this next birthday?

"Milly, are you still on earth, or did you get lost in space again?" Calum asked with a huge grin on his face.

"Yeah, yeah. I’m still here, just did a quick trip to the past again." Calum helped me a lot during the first few months after mom’s death and had to deal with a very depressive girlfriend, who either didn’t want to even get out of bed in the morning or lost herself in her work, so she could ignore the pain. I was so grateful for him, and that he never even thought about leaving me. So he obviously knew that I would sometimes get lost in the past, but he also knew how to get me on the right track again.

"I got a little idea for your birthday." He quietly said.

"Ohhh, please tell me!" I said, rather relieved, maybe it could still be a good day after all.

"Since Niall is staying a little longer, how about we throw a little garden party with Niall and Luke, Mikey and Ash? Some other people if you want to—"

I interrupted him with a sudden hug. "Yes! You are the best." I whispered in his ear. A garden party with the people closest to me made me feel comfortable and safe. That could actually work and turn this day into something nice.

But first, I deep down knew I had to go and do something different before this little party.

Calum’s POV:

You guessed it. She left him again. Well- not left left him, but she made her way to the other part of Adelaide, to the neighborhood where her parents lived before they moved away. At least that’s what she believes. Calum, however, knew the truth. The house is empty because her father died and her mom, pregnant with Milly, moved away.

When Milly announced her plans for this day last night while watching the second Kissing Booth movie (yes, they fell in love with the trilogy), he turned quite anxious. What if she finds out and cannot live with the truth, what if she falls into the deep hole again, the same hole when her mom died? He wasn’t sure if he would be able to get her out of it once again, after all that they went through together. Both of them weren’t the strongest anymore. But, right now, he couldn’t change anything anyways, so he grabbed his guitar and waited for his bandmates who announced to visit him today so they could decide on the final songs for the new album.

Right in that moment the doorbell rang.

That has to be Luke, he’s the only one who’s always too early. Quite an annoying habit if you ask Calum.

"Hey mate!" A smiling Luke said when Calum made his way to the front door and opened it. "Good to see you!"

The exchanged a quick hug and then decided to already go to the music room and wait for the other two men.

"So…is Milly here today?" Luke whispered. At first Calum reacted rather irritated. Why would he ask that? But he quickly realized, what it was for.

"No she actually had to leave today, it was very urgent." After this little- situation, where he told the three boys about Milly’s plans, he never mentioned it again. And to be honest, he didn’t really want to talk about it with them in the first place. It was something, Milly should decide on whether the band should know about it. So, since then, he always made up excuses why Milly wasn’t there.

Turns out they need lots of groceries and Milly even has to do something for work when she’s actually on vacation… he felt bad to lie to his bandmates like that, but this was the easiest way.

"Well, about her birthday present…" Luke said, but couldn’t finish the sentence because the two got interrupted by the doorbell.

Maybe they could continue this talk after the others left again. He really hoped so. Milly’s birthday present was something he had planned for almost 3 months now, if anything goes wrong, he'd be very mad and disappointed about it.

Calum and Luke greeted the two other men at the door together and quickly got back into his music room.

When he and Milly changed rooms a year ago, Calum really put all his effort into this room and tried giving it a personal touch. Milly’s old office was one of the biggest rooms on the second floor in the house, so he knew right at the beginning, he wanted to include a little sofa so he and the guys could sit down together and have a chat. He painted the walls in his favorite color, olive green, which really gave the room a cosy aesthetic. Of course there was lots of technical stuff in the room, taking up lots of space: computers, recording equipment, microphones.

But the most important part, the heart of the room, were the instruments. Calum had 3 bass guitars, 2 normal guitars and a small drums kit for Ashton in the room. Whenever Calum didn’t want to talk to anyone and just needed some time to think, he just sat down here, in this room, and hummed a melody while playing a quiet song on the guitar, it relaxed him in an admittedly strange way.

The two awards they got for Youngblood and Sounds good, feels good hanging on the wall, always reminded him, HOW lucky he got. To find these amazing three people, to tour with One Direction, to get this incredible fans, but most importantly to meet Milly, most likely the love of his life, the person he’s gonna grow old with.

"Okay, so. Let’s start easy, which songs should definitely be a single, which songs should have a video?" Ashton asked. Their manager informed them, all the songs were already recorded, they just needed to know which songs will be the final album and they need to find the right strategy to release the music.

"I think Old Me is the right choice for a music video." Micheal said into the silent room.

Calum nodded. "Yeah, Old Me kind of deserves it, doesn’t it?" He said. The song represents our story as a band and what we’ve been through. It’s very special to all of us.

��Yeah, you’re right.“ ,Micheal mentioned, "But I don’t think it'd be a good idea making it a single, it’s too- slow for that."

The day went on like this. Talking, deciding, arguing, mocking Luke. Till all three of them (finally) left and he didn’t get a chance to talk about Milly’s birthday present with Luke.

Great.

Milly’s POV:

I parked my car in the same spot that, even though I now visited it the third time, still feels so strange to me. The fact that I already got so far in the search and will probably find out even more today, made me happy on one side, but the other side of me just was scared of what I would possibly find out today. What if its too much for me to handle?

I made my way to a door, the same door I had stood in front of when Calum called me and told me Louis was in the hospital. It seemed so far away, even though it was just three weeks ago.

My heart felt like it was about to jump out of my chest when I reached out to the doorbell and rang it.

Then I waited.

And waited.

And then I heard steps in the house, walking towards the door.

When the door opened, I couldn’t see the person opening it, but heard a soft woman voice.

"Hello dear, can I help you?" She asked and opened the door further so I could finally see her. She was older, probably in her 70s or 80s, had short, grey hair and wore a thick pullover with white and dark blue stripes.

The warm smile on her face made me feel more relaxed.

"Well, I don’t know if you can help me, but… well.", I took a deep breath. What can possibly go wrong with being nice and asking?, "Do you know something about the last owners of this house?" I asked, hoping for a 'yes'.

The warm smile on the woman’s face slowly faded and turned into a confused and curious look. Oh no. Of course she didn’t knew them, could’ve been too easy.

"Well, why are you asking?" Wait, maybe she still met them.

"Long story…" I said, waiting for her to say whether she has enough time to listen to what I had to say.

"I’m just an old grandma, I have time." She responded, asking me to come inside.

———————————————

The couple, whose names were Lily and Evan Hudson, lived in a small and tiny house with vintage and sometimes old furniture. You could feel that very sweet people had lived her for many many years. The history in this house was undeniable.

Lily’s husband was as lovely as herself, they were literally made for each other.

All three of us sat down in the kitchen, Lily even gave me a cup of tea.

When I told them about my story, where I grew up, the first time I came to Australia, when I moved in with Calum and the things I already found out about my parents, I saw tiny tears shining in Lily’s eyes.

Surprisingly, it felt rather easy to tell complete strangers about me and my history. I wasn’t nervous at all and did not have to cry when explaining the sudden death of my mom. Maybe that are the effects of being a lawyer, you get better at talking about particular topics and issues.

When I finished, I got compassionate looks from both of them.

Lily was the first to break the silence. "Well, this is a very fascinating story, I must say." She looked at her husband, as if she wanted to convince him to say something to me.

"Umm… yeah. And now you came here to ask us for information?" He instead said, much to the disappointment of his wife. I nodded, they weren’t angry at me, were they? Let’s just hope not…

"And of course we'd love to help you, right Evan?" Lily gave her husband a threatening look. These two were really funny, the way they were messing with each other made me chuckle slightly. In my mind, I imagined Calum and me acting like this when we’re old and grey.

I have to admit, I think about our future together quite often. There was no doubt, I wanted to grow old with him. I wanted to have a beautiful wedding with all my friends and family. I often dreamed about an amazing proposal, with lots of rose petals and him kneeling down on one knee.

But this would most likely not happen, Calum was a romantic guy, but he was extremely shy and would probably never have enough courage to propose. I knew that.

But a girl can dream, right?

"It would mean so much to me if you could tell me anything about them." I said to the couple.

"Well, so what I can tell you, is that your parents were the most nice people you can ever imagine. Just like you!" Evan responded, smiling at me. And that caused my poor heart to make a little jump. They had been nice!

"They moved here because it was the only house they could afford at the time. Holly loved talking to others and had often friends over.", Lily said, smiling and giggling when she thought about it.," She was like a social butterfly! But your dad. Oh well, he didn’t feel comfortable. Everyone could tell." Lily laughed and Evan continued talking, still having a wide smile on his face. You could definitely see, these people really liked my parents.

"When they found out Holly was pregnant, they threw a little party in their garden behind the house. We were so happy for them, they’d be the perfect parents." All these little stories made me so happy and helped me feel more connected to them. It truly helped talking to this couple. With my search and with healing my inner child.

"But- if everyone was really happy for them… why did they gave me away?" I asked, a question that had been in my mind for the last few minutes, since they started talking about Holly's pregnancy.

Lily let out a sigh and compassionately touched my arm.

"They moved away before Holly gave birth to you, we did not knew they gave you away…and to be honest, we are truly surprised that the really did" She said, not knowing she just shattered my heart to pieces.

I was so sure, I'd find out everything today. But, of course it couldn’t be that easy.

"We did knew that they left a few pictures behind though. Arthur had a troubled past and wanted to close up with that chapter by leaving these pictures behind, he told me only one day before they moved." Evan added, giving me a little bit of hope that I could still find them. Somehow. Somewhere.

"But you have no idea to which place they moved, right?" I asked, already expecting a 'no', which I received in form from a head shake.

"I- I got one final question." Lily and Evan gave me an encouraging nod, giving me some extra strength. "Were they really loving me?" Somehow, my voice started breaking and tears formed in my eyes. This was a little too much for me after all.

Lily immediately stood up from her chair and embraced me and I let out a quiet sob. My heart felt like it crushed together by these many emotions that I felt at the same time. Confusion, Anger, Sadness and Hope.

When she let go, she looked at me closely and responded: "They did, don’t you worry." And then added something that gave me even more incentive to finally meet them. "You have your father’s eyes. It’s crazy, look Evan!"

When her husband took a closer look at me, he said the same thing. " it’s true, I always thought his eyes looked like an actual piece of chocolate, yours remind me of that too."

I slightly chuckled and thanked them for helping me so much. After all, I didn’t want to stay as long. They probably had so much other stuff to do.

Without me noticing, Evan stood up and when he came back he suddenly handed me a little piece of paper with a telephone number written on it.

"I can’t promise you anything, but Ms. Jackson had been a very close friend of Holly's. Maybe she knows where they are now and how you can meet them." He said.

What. The. Hell.

I could maybe meet them?! Oh my god.

Tears started forming in my eyes again and I quickly hugged Evan, much to his surprise actually. But I didn’t care about that.

I got a number from a friend. From an actual friend of theirs.

Even when I parked my car in front of my house, I still couldn’t believe it, that I was so close to my goal. My goal that I had for years and years.

Much to my surprise, I noticed Niall's car that he loaned at the airport when he cane to Australia. Him and Calum were most likely listening to their songs together and playing around like two middle school boys. Idiots.

But at least I could tell them about my truly exciting news together!

I opened the door in Milly-style-speed and quickly started searching for the two men and finally found them in Calum music room on the second floor.

I was right.

"Mills!" Niall exclaimed when I suddenly appeared in the door frame.

Calum got up from his little chair and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "How was it?" Strange, was it just me, or did he look quite scared? I'm probably just overthinking again, as always.

"Guess what, I got a telephone number of an old friend from my mom! She maybe still knows them!" I said, starting to jump and squealed at the end. It just was such exciting news!

Both of them joined in on my little happy dance and we spent the rest of the night, listening to Niall’s music together and eating pizza to celebrate my amazing day.

#maddys fanfic

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lorenfinch · 10 months

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Find the Word Tag

A massive catch-up post! I was tagged in four posts by @writinglittlebeasts, @liv-is, and @serenanymph to find the words agape, borrow, one, rummage, hum, don't, star, strong, summer, smear, smash, row, follow, mouth, drag, and great! Let's see if I can find all of them!!

AGAPE

And yet, as we approached the castle, I felt not like a hero in the making but like a prisoner marching to his own execution. As burly looking guards bearing the same seal as Ainsley and the rest moved to open the gates, I spotted two marble statues placed grandly at each side of the entrance. I recognized the visages instantly: on the left stood the stern, withered Visdar, god of order and law. On the right stood Dontos, god of retribution, clad in ancient Erydean armor and mouth agape in a silent shout.

“You can enter,” said Ainsley, and while a weight was lifted off my chest with the invitation, my body still prickled with unease as I passed between the statues, as if any moment they’d jump to life and kill me right then and there.

ONE

Ainsley too adjusted his seating position, criss-crossing his legs and resting his elbow on one of his knees as he leaned forward towards me. “So. Like I said, I’d like to get to know ya. I gave ya my name, didn’t I? I’d say it’s about time for you to give me yours.”

“I’m Renwick.” It occurred to me that perhaps I should’ve given him a false name. Would he know? Would he be able to figure it out? And yet I didn’t regret a single syllable, for telling him my name, my real name, felt like a triumph.

RUMMAGE

“Oh, you found my whale log! I’ve been keeping that for centuries!” Dahlia chirped from behind me. I yelped and dropped the journal in surprise. Over my shoulder, I saw her standing there sheepishly while Amaryllis rummaged through one of the drawers and Vlastimir—whose entrance had also been quite silent—leaned against the doorframe. “Sorry,” Dahlia stammered. “Should’ve announced myself first.” I gave her back her journal, mumbling an apology of my own.

“Aha!” Amaryllis held up a small, corked bottle and offered it to me. “Homemade pain potion. Made from ginger, turmeric, and from vampire venom produced by yours truly. Thought it might be of use; the regeneration process is much slower for newer vampires and that wound looked painful.”

DON'T

The woman in black spoke up next. “We don’t even know if she’s still alive.” Her voice shook with worry as she grasped her skirt in her hands. “I tried using divination to determine her location, but I couldn’t find her. It was like she was shrouded from my view. Which means either she’s blocked by significant amounts of silver, or she’s…”

“Of course she’s still alive!” Belladonna snapped. Her scarlet eyes blazed as she took to pacing the room, rage coloring her every step. “They lock her away behind their threshold spell, probably torture her for information about us, and then send our own fucking kind after us!”

STAR

He led us not along the main road, but instead veered off into the woods, following a narrow trail presumably left by deer and other animals. The further away from the Cedran border we trekked, the thinner the forest grew, the twisted old growths of the Ferrywood fading into conifer forests that reminded me of my home kingdom. They were still dense, yes, but looking up past their needling curtains I gazed upon the vast canvas of stars. They glittered like fireflies, comforting, and for a brief moment it felt like they were calling out to me.

SUMMER

Wait. I did remember the presence of a summer elf in the Saga. The Saga neglected to mention where he came from, why he was there.

ROW

Either way, I certainly wasn’t sleeping. After what felt like hours, I rose from the bed, giving up for now and deciding to explore instead. First, I examined the rows of books. Their edges were yellow with age, and many were written in languages I didn’t speak, but judging by the illustrations on the covers I gathered that most of these books were either about alchemy or magic. Witchcraft, likely, given what Amaryllis has told me. Though, truthfully, witchcraft was just a foreboding-sounding name for any magic forbidden by law, such as necromancy, summoning rituals, and curses.

I spied one work of fiction, a copy of The Saga of Lief the Uniter lying discarded on the ground and covered in dust and cobwebs.

I closed my eyes. I had been unable to transform before, or fly, but perhaps now would be different. Perhaps now that I stood in my future home, surrounded by fellow vampires, I would finally be able to grasp that power.

Nothing.

When I failed to follow, Styx dropped her transformation, as did the two Night Terrors. “What’s wrong?” asked Vlastimir.

Shamefully, I stared at the ground, arms hugging my torso. “I can’t transform,” I admitted. “Not to a bat, not to mist. I can’t fly, either. Or charm people.” I looked back up at the others, chest tightening as I considered a terrible thought. “I’m…I’m not a failure of a vampire, am I?”

MOUTH

The corners of Styx’s mouth twitched, but she didn’t reply to my apology. Instead, she asked, “When did you feed last?”

“The other day,” I replied. Slight pangs of hunger resounded through my body, as if a beast stirring from its slumber. “Ainsley let me feed from him.”

“Explains the bandages,” Styx mused, spaded tail flicking side to side like a cat’s. “Remain watchful of your hunger. The less blood a vampire takes, the more they must feed. Have you killed yet?”

DRAG

I approached one creature from behind and drove the stake through its head, unsure if it would do the trick, but thankfully it fell. I did the same with another, saving the last remaining hunter from its snapping maws—Thomas, I remembered.

Thomas stared at me with wide, terrified eyes and sweat running down his brow. For a brief second I thought he would try to spear me too. But instead, he swallowed, nodded, and muttered a thanks.

I didn’t even have time to react before he too was dragged off.

GREAT

My hands shook and my breaths grew rapid. There had been so much blood. I had been drugged, beaten, chased into the forest and captured by swordsmen bearing my family’s banner. Men who had been hired to take me back home, a fate worse than death. Then, in the night, a great black shape flew from the woods and tore through one of the mercenaries. A fight broke out. In my addled state I tried to stumble away, only to fall to my knees. Then, blood. A river of it, flowing from my own body. Then, I was in someone’s arms, blood steadily dripping into my slackened jaw, before darkness claimed my vision.

BORROW, HUM, STRONG, SMEAR, SMASH: n/a

TAGGING (gently): @macabremoons @outpost51 @sam-glade @writernopal and anyone else who wants to for the words home, history, point, and local!

#tag games #everdarkwip #i love this game it's funnn

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winns-stuff · 2 years

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LO RANT:

Okay later in the day when I’ve got the time I’ll be doing the Hephaestus appreciation post, sorry I keep postponing it y’all but I’ve got to get this off my chest. I hate the way that those fans of the community get so upset that other people don’t want the story to be ruined by sex. But you know what I hate more? The excuses they pull out of their asses to try and make it seem like the people who don’t want it to happen are just insensitive assholes.

I really do hate that some fans are really trying to justify their want (seems like need) for smut being displayed in the webcomic by saying that they just want to see her own her sexuality and reclaim it in this way. Listen, that would’ve been a wonderful beautiful message had it been brought up on her own accord. I find it funny how Persephone herself wanted to take things slowly at the beginning of the comic but now all of a sudden she’s all about sex. Just because she’s having sex doesn’t mean she’s reclaiming her femininity or her sexuality, I’m so tired of people saying that there’s so many different ways to convey her reclaiming her sexuality like seriously let the woman experience and branch out a bit she doesn’t even know anything about sex, she’s never mentioned anything about wanting sex until recently as well. This whole thing feels like it was put in their because of the majority of the fans, I’ve seen the damn comments I know a lot of them were getting tired of the slow pacing and they were eager to get into it because it’s been 10 years and Persephone just became queen of the underworld.

I want everyone to read the last sentence slowly. She JUST became queen of the underworld and not only that but those 10 years that passed, they spent AWAY from each other. Why does everyone bring that up knowing that they had no contact with each other whatsoever? People can change drastically over 10 years without any sort of interaction with each other. Of course we can’t ever see that happen with Persephone and Hades because they’re just “so in love”, I hate that Hades is going to be her first and last lover. I think it’s stupid, everyone always attacks people by saying how “Persephone deserves to experience things” and “she’s an adult let her do what she wants”, but at the same time you guys are in favor of keeping her caged up. Every single sexual thing that’s happened to her has not been good, do I want to see Persephone have a positive experience with it? (No because I don’t like imagining them doing it obviously but in the context of this) yes. But she deserves to date around, see the world and interact with other people. Get this girl some other friends even an assistant! I’m tired of her being surrounded by people who are just on Hades’ side and takes his thoughts into consideration before Persephone. (For example, SEX.)

But it’s just too soon, this whole thing does not feel like Persephone is in control of the situation and I’m tired of people saying she is. Her being in control of it does not consist on other people who aren’t even in their relationship pressuring her to have sex with him, that’s not what “willingly” looks like. It would be something more personal and singular, like Persephone just thinking about it or wanting it by her own motives not the motives of others. That’s why many of us don’t want to see it, not because we think SA survivors don’t deserve a positive experience and I can argue that a lot of the demographic for this comic are also SA survivors, like think about it for a second because the people who do not want the sex to happen are also of that demographic.

Not only that but the whole thing is pretty insensitive. Why are her friends so worried about her not losing her virginity? Like they seem disappointed in her which is so shitty. If someone doesn’t want to have sex no matter what happened to them they don’t have to, I’m so tired of people basing a relationship solely on sex. It’s not one of the fundamentals that’s going to ultimately hold it together, there’s so many other ways you can build a connection with someone besides that because you can literally get sex from everywhere (cheating) what makes your relationship more grounded? Think about that. But the whole thing is just super weird and uncomfortable, you guys can preach that Persephone wants this and Persephone is in control but she’s obviously not in that much control even with her sexuality. In you guys’ eyes they’re being exactly like Demeter monitoring her and pushing her towards decisions that they think is best for her without actually speaking to her.

Last thing is it’s just out of character for Persephone to even be acting like this and it’s to a point where it ruins her and makes it more unbearable to like her. She’s never just openly spoke about stuff like this, not that she’s not supposed to but be for real please why would she start mentioning sex without any context it doesn’t make her seem eager it makes her seem desperate and it’s not a good look on her. The way that she’s just begging for sex is very cringe, sorry I don’t make the rules, but it just screams fan service. None of this shit happened before many people mentioned HxP having sex, like everyone’s made their own NSFW stuff about them even when they were supposed to be assistant and boss which is just a little weird to me personally. I know we know that they were going to get together but it still feels weird to do that, it’s just me obviously. But also there’s a lot of teens and preteens who read LO I’m so tired of people genuinely believing that only young adults and adults read this comic. The comic doesn’t even look like a comic marketed towards adults and not only that many kids just get curious and they might want to read it anyways. The older people in this fandom pushing for sex and making all of these sexual comments should at least be more calmed down it feels like each day we get closer you guys get even more explicit. Not everyone wants to see sex happen in the comic because of many reasons that the comic itself has set up, stop being angry or upset at people who just don’t like the sexual content because of the conditions that we see the characters going through. Just go on her patreon or something, look up the stuff online but don’t suggest it on a platform with so many different ages and different people coming to read that.

Anyways, that’s the end of the rant. Sorry I had to get that off my mind because it really does irk me how so many fans claim that we just don’t want Persephone to have a good experience but at the same time they praise Daphne and Eros for giving no fucks about anything else that Persephone has to offer other than her having sex and they’re supposed to be close friends (told you she needs friends who are on her side) but yeah I think the whole thing is fucked up, it gives me a terrible feeling in my stomach. But yeah, about the nsfw art thing I’m not saying anything drastic like harass or report them or anything that’s insane don’t do that the artists can write literally whatever they want which is fine but I just said my own opinion about it, not with ill intentions I just said what I said. Speaking of harassing, bullying, blocking, and reporting, don’t use any of this as fuel to do any of those things to LO fans please leave those people alone they don’t deserve to be hated for their interests, and this rant was not supposed to spew hate on anyone I was just telling my opinion on what I see going on within the fandom.

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo #lo persephone

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artemis-entreri · 2 years

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Jarlaxle’s Uncertain Age 2

Although no listed time (as far as I know) has come about for Jarlaxle’s age he could not be as young as 245 years old. As of the book Timeless (I’m not all caught up on these books) Jarlaxle is already mentioned by name by Matron Zeerith on Briza Do'Urden’s 100th birthday. In Homeland Briza is mentioned to be around 400 years old when she dies in 1339 DR. Timeless further clarifies her age by stating that Briza was born in 1018 DR

“

Dalereckoning 1018

“A hundred years,” Patron Rizzen said to Matron Malice Do’Urden, the two in the small chamber that served as a throne room in the minor house of Daermon N’a’shezbaernon, more commonly known as House Do’Urden….“Few matrons have served for a full century,” the often-oblivious male added. “This is a great day. A great day for you and a great day for House Do’Urden.”

“House Do’Urden,” Malice echoed with a derisive snort. She had taken control one hundred years before to the day, the day her first child, Briza, was born, the day her mother and matron, Vartha Do’Urden, died.” - Timeless

So here we can see that Briza is actually 321 years old when she dies.

Once Briza leaves the Xorlarrin compound Jarlaxle takes notice of her and himself claims to be somewhat older.

“From the shadows of an alleyway beside the gates of House Baenre, a dandy-looking young drow watched Briza Do’Urden run from House Xorlarrin. He lifted his eyepatch—a recent magical acquisition, enchanted to show him things his eyes could not and to prevent him from being seen by things other than eyes—to better survey the woman. She wasn’t much younger than he, and he thought that, yes, he could indeed note the resemblance to her rumored father.” - Timeless

So at this point, 1488 DR (the year “Hero” ends) Jarlaxle should be more than 470 years old. This also explains why very few drow know that Jarlaxle is a Baenre noble, because most of the ones who were alive at the time of his birth are already dead, or were not in a high enough position to know more about the inner workings of the Number 1 house.

My guess, and I will update this as I finish off the rest of the books, is that Jarlaxle is even older than this. My reasoning is that the longer your life the less strict people typically are with amounts of time. For a 10 year old, a single year is a huge difference, but for a 40 year old, saying someone is 5 years younger than them seems like a small difference. Drow can live up to 700 years (except for a few notable examples) and at over 100 Jarlaxle could easily be 120 years old when making that statement.

The orignial post about this topic came out before Timeless was released, so the author of that post cannot be faulted for entertaining the idea that Jarlaxle might very well be 245 years of age. I also acknowledge that the original author themselves stated and provided evidence for why they believe Jarlaxle is around 500 years old, and turns out, the original author was correct!

Tl;dr Jarlaxle Baenre is at least 470 years old, at least according to the book “Timeless”.

[[ Sorry for answering this 9 months after it was submitted, I kept meaning to do so but always got waylaid with work before I could take the time to go through my old posts and newer source material.

Way before I sat down and looked through all the source material, i.e. the novels, D&D sourcebooks, supplemental material like the Villains’ Lorebook, I speculated that Jarlaxle was around 700 years old. I don’t believe I ever posted that anywhere though, as it was purely baseless speculation.

Before continuing further, I feel that it’s important to note the original timeline of the posts that are being responded to:

- The original post I made about this topic was on January 16, 2018.

- The follow-up post was also made on January 16, 2018. As of today (June 12, 2022), that’s approximately 4 and a half years ago, and as of the time that this Ask and Submission came in, that would’ve been about 3 years and 9 months after those posts were made. The contents of those posts are very much out of date, as the Generations Trilogy wasn’t even known to be in the works at the time of those posts.

- Timeless, the first book in that trilogy that details Zaknafein and Jarlaxle’s youth, was published on September 4, 2018.

- A hint about its existence first appeared on February 6, 2018.

- Timeless was confirmed on February 12, 2018 by Salvatore.

- I finished the Advanced Reader Copy (ARC) of Timeless on July 22, 2018.

Going back to the original first post, I’d explicitly stated even then that I didn’t believe Jarlaxle could be 245. This is what I wrote as the very first paragraph in that first post:

When I first saw Jarlaxle’s age in the game, Idle Champions of the Forgotten Realms, which shows it as 245, my immediate thought was to disregard it as factually inaccurate and entirely too young. At 245, Jarlaxle would only be 50 years older than Drizzt, something that seems highly improbable given their respective maturity and worldliness. Furthermore, we know from the books that Jarlaxle and Zaknafein got into a lot of mischief together at Melee-Magthere, and because Zaknafein was sacrificed when he was over 400 years old, if the two were the same age, that would put Jarlaxle at around 500 years old in current Realms time.

In addition to dismissing 245 as his age, I also estimated that he would be around 500 years old prior to knowing about the existence of Timeless and subsequent books.

I did go on to discuss that 245 age because, also as I explained in that first post:

Although I personally subscribe to the belief that Jarlaxle is around 500 years old rather than half that, it came to my attention that, barring confirmation from Bob or WotC, Idle Champions’ stated age for Jarlaxle is just as valid as other speculations about his age.

What is considered canon has always been a struggle for WotC, with so many different types of media and products to manage, which ultimately led them to them declaring a bunch of things as being non-canon to the TTRPG part of D&D on July 21, 2021. However, before that point, basically anything that appeared in official WotC products could be canon, and in fact there was a lot of debate about the listed information in Idle Champions due to the game being an official WotC product but also presenting information that many fans found incongruent. As someone who has always tried to find ways to make seemingly nonsensical canon make sense, as well as being a resource that others come to for that kind of thing, I wrote this bit as an effort to reconcile Idle Champions’ given age for Jarlaxle:

Playing Devil’s Advocate, practically speaking, it’s possible for Jarlaxle to be as young as 245. Yvonnel the Eternal gave birth to Gromph when she was 1355 years old. Although it makes a certain degree of sense for a drow Matron Mother to produce offspring quickly in succession after achieving her seat of power, there might have been complicating factors that caused the third-born son to appear especially late, with only daughters appearing before Jarlaxle. Although we only get to see some of Yvonnel the Eternal’s children, she had twenty of them, fifteen of whom were priestesses. Given how favored females were in drow society and how such a high ratio of female to male offspring signified Lolth’s favor, Yvonnel the Eternal probably wasn’t in a real hurry to pop out her 3rd son. But, it had to happen eventually, and it’s not like she ever had to worry about becoming infertile. After all, even as she approached 2000 she was able to birth Berg'inyon, and it’s likely that had she not been cut down by Bruenor’s axe she’d pop out a few more Baenres.

It should be clear from the very beginning of the sentence that I didn’t actually believe that Jarlaxle was 245, if the paragraphs prior didn’t already convey that. I cited that I was playing devil’s advocate, which means taking an opposing or unpopular cause for the sake of argument or to expose it to a thorough examination. In this case, I took that position to offer a possible interpretation for a way in which Idle Champions’ canon could be valid. I also did this for a more whimsical reason, which I’d explained in the last paragraph of that post:

I’m putting all of this out there though as I’d imagine some might be interested in a teacher/student scenario involving Zaknafein and Jarlaxle, in which the former would out-age the latter by a couple centuries. This isn’t something that I care about much one way or another, but I figured some might have a lot of fun with it. :P

I wanted to note that there are precision issues with your statement, “Drow can live up to 700 years (except for a few notable examples)“. It is the case that drow certainly can live up to 700 years, and as you noted, Yvonnel the Eternal was one such outlier, having lived to 2000 years. However, your statement gives the impression that the average lifespan of (Lolthite) drow is around 700 years, which is very much not the case. In general, elves have average lifespans of 750 years, however the average lifespan of Lolthite drow is significantly lower, due to the nature of their society compounded by the dangers of the Underdark. As for specifically how much lower, let’s look at the likely origins of the average lifespans for elves stated on the Forgotten Realms Wiki (with thanks to Tolantra):

By 2e rules, the maximum lifespan of elves is 750 years, with the maximum for drow being 525, minimums being 354 and 228 respectively. These ranges only take into account non-outliers, such as infant sacrifices and unnatural old coots like Yvonnel the Eternal.

Going back to Jarlaxle, as of this point in time, there’s no way to know exactly how old he is. We may be given this information in the future. As of what we have available now, as of the current Realms year in the novels, which is 1490 or 1491 DR, we’re led to believe that Jarlaxle is older than 473. Starlight Enclave takes place in 1490 DR, and the ARC of Glacier’s Edge doesn’t give any specific dates (although this could change in the published version). Glacier’s Edge does state that the northbound party spends several months in Callidae, but it isn’t specified how many months.

Briza would be 473 if she had not died, and her age is the only detail that we are explicitly told. Jarlaxle believes that Briza is younger than he is, but this is far from being hard evidence. He could well be right, but he could just as well be off in his guess, especially with how elven appearances cease aging after reaching sexual maturity, not to mention there existing the phenomenon that some people are older or younger than they appear. It’s shaky to build solid conclusions based on speculation, which is what Jarlaxle does when he ponders Briza’s age. He could very well be the same age as Briza, possibly even younger.

In summary, although it is most likely the case that Jarlaxle is older than Briza and is around 500 years of age, there is no way to tell for sure with the information that is available currently. It’s even inaccurate to put down a specific age range for him, because there isn’t hard evidence for it. We would need to see the details for any assertions related to his age, otherwise any such assertions are purely headcanon. Which is perfectly fine, but it isn’t canon. ]]

#jarlaxle #jarlaxle baenre #forgotten realms #legend of drizzt #ooc #submission

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eclectic-ways · 1 month

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Hi! So I read your post about manifestation gurus. I have borderline and well, your post really helped me, but at the same time I'm confused. Believing that I am able to get whatever I want and manifest it and I always create my reality has helped me, but at the same time I'd hate to believe that I "manifested" getting borderline or other terrible things in my life. How do I cope with this? Or how do I find a middle point in this?

I’m sorry for the late reply. I don’t get any notification even within the app when someone mentions me, asks questions etc. somehow.

Good question. It’s all about the balance really; not only for us BPD fighters but also for every single person on the planet. Once the scale weighs significantly heavier than the other side, there is a big impact usually not a good one unless we’re weighing gold over copper here, lol… If your hardworking trait, for instance, is much more dominant than the chill you or just the hedonistic self, then you will actually miss a lot in life. All that effort, time, stress and sacrifices you made may pay off in the end for whatever you had aimed, but you will also be left with “that gap” you chose not to fill but pass. Now you gotta work on what you really need = the shadow created by you has its thorns and will hurt your loved-ones as well. Point is… The balanced work and pleasure time is the best way to consume our mortal lives, same goes for many other human-related life philosophy.

Spirituality helps immensely to BPD-sufferer, (excessive manifestation mindset does not though and I don’t even regard manifestation concept as a subcomponent of spirituality) but science also helps to BPD, right? Balance… The mainstream manifestation belief system is based on conditioning your brain and nothing else. And “conditioning” is a very powerful trick in psychology field (science) to do great things or overcome big obstacles in life, even when it comes to surviving. If you’re about to lose your mind because of loneliness or being stuck horribly, for example, conditioning and playing mind games with yourself will save you (happened to me many times in worse conditions.). Yet again, it has its limits. Conditionings won’t get you your fp back or get you find the best looking man/woman with best manners. Not in most cases at least :)

Spiritual or magickal based manifestations are the healthier practices in my opinion unless you go overboard with obsessions and delusions. Because you simply set your intention; do your ritual/prayer/ceremony etc. to lay emphasis on what you realy want and send it to the universe or God; followed by doing “your part.” Not dreaming and wishing. Actively and consistently keep doing what all the steps will get you closer to that intention in real life. If it doesn’t happen in months, do a self-reflection. Maybe it’s not the best thing for you to occur in life — maybe you’re doing something wrong with one of your methods — maybe it is not what you actually want but rather a need of your shadow side that you need to work on. So alter what you do; or change your route and maintain manifesting “that”. If it’s something realistically really can happen within a year and still not happening; then it is just NOT meant to be. God, source, universe whatever you want to call it, does not allow it to happen for (probably) a (better) reason. Move on. I mean really believe that it’s for the best and get it out of your mind; do your best to get over it and move past it. And so now you think and believe that you did your best, but God didn’t make it happen. Hmm wonder why? So now you know and/hope you have better things to come and find out why soon.

No blaming or questioning yourself and everything you do. You see, the new era manifeststion bullcrap is all about making it happen, and God forbid if you can’t, there is something wrong with what YOU do, say, think and be. It’s your fault that it didn’t happen. How in the world you think this version of manifestation practice is healthier even for a normal person with no mental disorder. aaand BPD? We the king and queen of self-criticism, self-depreciation, self-doubt, self-hate, identity crisis etc. lacking self-love, self-confidence and stable mood or mindset. Let’s say you improved and healed some of these bpd symptoms over time, Wouldn’t you think if you firmly believe in “you create what you are and what you live = you deserve what you got” would throw you back into that tornado in the void you’ve had suffered so much in already?

We’re all able and capable of doing a lot of good even great things. That doesn’t mean you can or should get everything you want in this life. Also, Let’s say you simply want to get mentally healthier which you totally deserve and should work on. But nothing changes for years or perhaps it gets worse. In the meantime, you always wanted to be a great writer; one day will come, you will come to your wits end and you find yourself writing one of the best books out there; or that book will serve humanity even centuries after your lifetime. Perhaps that was your mission in your current incarnation to begin with? The best artists and writers in the world are always the ones suffered beyond comprehension either or both physically and mentally. You see my point? This was just an example but also based on true stories. Helps you dodge the victim mentality as well.

Leaving it be after you tried your part enough or did your best-ish is peace which is what we need the most even more than love for us BPD warriors. Stress is our worst enemy. Inner-peace can only take place through how you navigate your mind and soul upon “things” happening or not happening, NOT by what you achieve/get or not.

I hope I was able to clarify it better for you because my mind is really foggy and going through adhd shift right now.

Feel free to ask or talk to me more if you need more support.

Remember the darkness and light need each other to prove their individual worth; earn gratitude and appreciation. No one can be without darkness. Everyone has shadows. You just gotta get rid of/lower/manage the ones that are not serving you well.

Hope you to embrace yourself with every part of you; and to catch joy in the little things that actually matter the most.

So blessed be 🤍🖤✨

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onlyherefortheshowmances · 2 years

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*disclaimer: this was originally a tweet thread, so if the transitions/etc. are weird, I apologize in advance

The state/county still hasn't approved my medical assistance and food stamps even though they have everything they said they needed. In 7 days it will be 30 days since my application which is all the state call center will ever tell me. "They have 30 days."

So, hopefully that means that next week, they will actually get around to doing their jobs. I know they have a large caseload; hire more caseworkers then; pay them better so people actually want to do the job. I just need to see the fucking doctor.

I had to cancel appointments with both of my most important specialists last week because of this. (Granted I want to find a new Rheumatologist anyway, so I'm less upset about that one.) Lord knows how far out I'm gonna have to schedule once I finally have the insurance.

I'm probably going to end up getting evicted next month, because there is no way I'm going to have the money to pay rent. Which is going to make it even more impossible to find housing later and I'll have no where to go in the mean time.

Because of my disabilities, my best option is going to be sleeping in my car probably, but it's going to get cold soon, so I don't know how long that's going to last.

Everywhere I look, trying to find assistance, they only want to provide assistance to pregnant women, families with children, or domestic violence victims. I'm none of those things. I'm just a chronically ill; disabled; neurodivergent; single woman with no resources.

I feel like I'm being punished for not being irresponsible enough to get pregnant with or have a child that I couldn't take care of financially, physically, or emotionally. That I'm being punished for having a body where, even if I were to get pregnant it would likely kill me.

I don't have family or friends to help me. I don't have someone with an extra bedroom (that I would feel comfortable and safe in). I don't have anyone that can help me. But yet, somehow I'm not disabled enough. I should just suck it up and get a job.

I should just magically not be in near constant debilitating amounts of pain. I should just magically not be autistic with ADHD. I should just magically have an immune system that functions like its supposed to. I'm sorry, but I don't have that capability.

I understand why the chronically ill in Canada are choosing physician assisted dignified death as their best option. If that were possible here, it's something I would consider, because everywhere I look, there is nothing and no one to help me.

I don't want to die, but I also literally cannot survive in my current situation.

Not to mention the fact that I feel literally invisible because any time I post/tweet/etc. anything remotely serious/personal, it's just radio silence. It makes me feel like I'm being used, honestly. Like the people I consider friends, are really just using me for my humor or my fanfic.

[adding here: If feels as if my mask is all anyone cares about and the real me, the disabled one, doesn’t actually matter. Hey, your ableism is showing again.]

Like, I'm aware yinz (my twitter/tumblr followers, people on fb) can't actually DO anything about any of it, but when there's just complete radio silence it leaves me wondering if any one even CARES at all. No one has asked if there's something they can do.

Maybe it's my brain being broken. Maybe it's my direct communication offending the neurotypicals again. Whatever it is, it feels insanely isolating and only makes this whole situation feel that much worse.

[adding here: I’ve spent the past couple hours crying as all of his has crashed down on me hard today because I was stupid enough to attempt to do a singular thing last night so my body is very angry with me. It my high school’s homecoming football game; it was alumni band night; I just wanted to see my friends and make music and be normal for a few hours, but I guess I'm not allowed to do that anymore.]

#disability #chronic illness #rheumatoid arthritis #osteoarthritis #fibromyalgia #adhd #autism #actually autistic #neurodivergent #the broken american health care system #the broken american welfare system

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milliedazzledust · 3 years

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In Loving Memory (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request: @missroro the reader is steve twin and she married to bucky after the blip, she had enough of the 'new captain america' thing shes really mad, so when walker and his friend start talking about joining forces she snap like she pull out a gun and pointing right at them, also sam ofc dont forget about sam. Sam trying to stop her while bucky "nah let her do her fun"

Words: 2021

Warning: !!TFATWS SPOILER!! without context - violence

A/N: wrote this today, it basically follows the events of ep3 of fatws but without context. I have a couple of exams this week so I won't be able to post until next saturday. Until then, enjoy

"You shouldn’t have gave him the shield"

Sam frowned, turning back to look at Bucky.

"I didn’t gave him the shield" He defended himself, making a point.

"Well, Steve definitely didn’t" Y/N ironically answered back.

He gave her a pointed stare. They had had this conversation countless times and Y/N never missed a chance to remind him of what she thought was a huge mistake.

"You are the reason this is happening, Sam. You chose to take on my brother’s legacy and threw it out the window"

The man didn’t reply and pursed his lips. He knew she didn’t mean any of her harsh words, she was angry and still mourning. If taking it out on him could make her feel better, he would let her.

"Y/N, stop" Bucky took a step toward his wife, clasping her hand in his metal one. He had hoped the physical contact would be enough to calm her down.

"He abandoned me, Sam" She continued, her voice filled with emotions. "He was gone and all I had left was memories. I chose this life for him, I fought with him, I believed in everything he represented. I looked up to him, to Captain America. And today, even those memories are gone, taken by the same government you and I were up against, mocked by clowns pretending to be heroes, all because you gave up"

The Falcon closed his eyes and dropped his head. She couldn’t see his point of view, or share his opinions when her judgment was clouded by so much pain. He wished she could understand the dilemma, the duality that represented the shield for him.

"Y/N, please, that’s enough" Bucky whispered next to her ear.

She turned her head toward him and as usual, his heart broke when he saw the torment in her eyes. She didn’t need to speak, she was an open book to him. They both had lost so much and yet were all each other had left. They were collateral damage, their own team against a world that wasn’t theirs anymore. She silently nodded, assuring him she was fine. Sam watched Bucky kissing her forehead and he furrowed his brow. He would never admit it but he was glad they had each other, because no one could carry that much pain alone without crumbling apart.

Before any of them could add anything, soldiers in blue and red erupted in the room, bursting through the door of the apartment where they were hiding in Latvia. Bucky instinctively grabbed Y/N and forced her body to move behind his. The two man stood in front of them, tall and proud, a smug smile on their lips.

"Alright, that’s it, your time is up" The man calling himself Captain America announced, the shield in one hand, the other pointing at the three avengers. "Tell me where Zemo is"

"We know you’re hiding him" His sidekick added.

"I’m ordering you to turn him over"

Sam eyed them up and down.

"Let’s be clear, the only thing you’re running here is your mouth" The Falcon firmly replied, crossing his arms.

"I gave you a chance to work with us" He mentioned.

" ‘For us’ is the correct way to put it, tough guy. And we said no." Y/N reminded him, her face showing how much she was annoyed.

"You’re obviously in over your head so I suggest you turn back and go" Sam argued.

"You really want this conversation to go there ?" The hero threatened.

Bucky straightened up when he felt Y/N tensing. He knew she was already on the verge of snapping. One wrong word from the man she hated and this could go down to hell.

"Should I put down the shield ?" He continued to challenge Sam. "Make it fair?"

The woman groaned and when John Walker dropped his weapon, without a second thought, she grabbed the nearest knife and threw it right at his face. The man had barely enough time to move back and his eyes rose in surprise when the blade stuck itself into the wall with force.

"Sorry, it slipped" She ironically explained, shrugging.

"You don’t want to play this game with me" He tried to intimidate her, tilting his head to the side.

She smiled, pleased he was giving her the opportunity to smack his face. Bucky clenched his fists when he saw her walking in front of Walker. Without tearing her eyes away from his, she seized her knife and pulled it out of the wall with a sharp movement.

"I think someone should teach you a lesson, Walker" She told him in a low tone.

"Are you offering ?" He challenged her.

"Don’t tempt me"

"You’re lucky you’re his sister" He grinned. "But don’t push it. This Captain America is not as lenient as the previous was"

Bucky swore under his breath. It was too late now. And just as Sam looked at him with concern, Y/N threw her fist in a curved punch at the soldier. He used his forearm to counter the blow, but she was faster and had far more experience. Using the momentum, her foot rose up and kicked him in the face. The man was thrown back, shaking his head in confusion.

"We should do something" Sam advised the former assassin.

"No. Let her have her fun" He crossed his arms, harboring a small smirk.

The soldier tried to hit her back, but even when he took the shield she blocked his attack. His sidekick soon joined the fight and distracted her for a second, just enough time for Walker to punch her. Immediately, she felt the taste of blood in her mouth, but no pain. She was passed that, far too pissed to feel anything.

Another blow on her chest send her to the ground and Hoskins hold her down while his friend was about to hit her with her brother’s shield. He raised it in the air, with every intention of beating her, but a strong metal hand stopped him in his movement. A very infuriated Bucky stood before him, his blue eyes darkening with anger. He firmly took the weapon, knocked Hoskins out with it and threw it across the room.

"If you wanted to make it fair, you shouldn’t have chosen to hit my wife" His tone was terrifying.

Walker didn’t seem as confident anymore. Bucky looked imposing, brute force ready to strike. His metal arm clenched in a fist and, without warning, it collided with the soldier’s jaw, sending him a few feet away. He strode to the man on the ground and grabbed him by the collar of his uniform

"This is all easy for you, isn’t it ?" Walker spoke with venom, staring at Bucky. "All that serum running through your veins"

With a swift movement, Y/N took the shield and launched it with power right on the soldier’s chest. The blow was so violent his body crashed into a door before landing on the floor. She was furious by his statement and he could see it with every step she made toward him. She grabbed the gun attached to her thigh and pointed it at his face.

"Lesson number one: learn when to shut up. Especially when you don't know what you're talking about" She was fuming but had not intention on killing the man, despite the sheer desire to do so.

She didn’t realize Sam was next to her until she saw his hand lowering her gun.

"This isn’t what Steve would want." He calmly expressed. "Remember, there’s always another way"

Her lips quivered and she closed her eyes, remembering how many times her brother had told her that. She let him take the weapon and looked up at him. The conviction and kindness in his stare were enough. He didn’t have to say anything. Every words she needed to hear, he spoke them in silence.

She turned back to Bucky and he cupped her face, inspecting the bruise on her skin. He seemed ready to go back and beat the man down. Y/N softly smiled and clasped her hands around his wrists. He stroke her cheek and pulled her toward him before carefully kissing her lips.

"Good ?" He asked in a soft voice he only used with her.

"Good"

It was something between them, a single word they spoke every time they fought. Wherever they were, whomever they were up against, if one of them asked, the other had to answer. It was their intimate way to always know they were alright.

Later that day, Sam and Bucky had decided to go talk to the leader of the Flag Smasher, Karli Morgenthau, while Y/N had been charged to follow Walker and Hoskins. As soon as she had seen they were going after the young super soldier, she had warned her friends about the danger. She knew enough about the new Captain to guess he had no intention on arresting Karli. He wanted to make justice himself. She pitied his sidekick. He seemed like a decent man with good ideas struggling to find virtue on the wrong side of the battle. He was Walker’s collateral damage.

She wondered what Steve would think of all that if he could see them fighting both super soldiers and Captain America. He never cared for the star and stripes, never used his shield to harm. His heart was with the people he defended. Even when it had been against Tony, he pursued what he believed was best. Was that what Walker was trying to do ? She couldn’t know. But she was sure of one thing, the man had nothing in common with Steve. Pride, ego and selfishness were never traits anyone would have used to describe her brother. She couldn’t bear for him to be replaced, especially to a man that didn’t share his morals or any of his opinions. The shield he was carrying wasn’t just a weapon, it was her brother’s symbol of hope, a symbol he had fought so hard to forge. The man made the uniform, not the other way around. That’s what Walker didn’t get. Up until that point, people had not been following Captain America, they had been following Steve Rogers.

Standing in that public square, she didn’t realize she was crying until she felt Bucky entwined his fingers with hers. She couldn’t avert her eyes from the horrific scenery. Powerlessly, she watched a man she didn’t know being executed. His opponent was merciless, striking with determination and rage, using the only piece of memory she had left of her brother to bring terror and death. Frozen on the spot in the middle of the crowd, she could see the fear in all those strangers eyes and it felt like grief coming in waves, a shard in her guts that would never leave. It felt like this particular moment was choking the breath out of her body, short circuiting her mind. What was whole once completely shattered and she couldn’t find the strength to be angry anymore. All her brother had built had fallen apart in the split of a second and all the world had left was a bloodied image of his symbol of hope. A symbol that was no more.

“Sam...” She called him, almost like a scared child.

“I know...”

Both men looked worried. Y/N felt Bucky’s hand trembling and she squeezed him harder. She could easily guess how he felt. Steve had saved both of them, he had gave them a purpose, had allowed the former assassin to be more than the weapon Hydra had made of him. Pieces by pieces, he had brought their family back together. And as they both stood there, witnessing the horrifying end of his legacy, Bucky realized everything his bestfriend had fought for was turning into dust.

"I’m sorry" Y/N whispered to Sam. "But there’s no other way now"

Her husband dropped his head, trying to regain a sense of control over his emotions. Wordlessly agreeing with her, he turned to their friend.

“He has to be stopped”

Tags: @taina-eny

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

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Home

Series Summary: After being arrested, Spencer Reid desperately tries to get back home to his daughter, Camellia, who was placed into foster care in your home.

Pairing: Single!Dad!Spencer x Foster!Mom!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Content/Warnings: mentions of Diana’s Alzheimer’s and Schizophrenia, prison, separation of father and daughter, swearing

A/N: i hope you guys enjoy my new fic! this may be about 8 chapters or so! i’m not sure yet, going to see how interested people are in the plot :) (also quick disclaimer: i have never been in the foster care system so please excuse any inaccuracies)

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Spencer never wanted his daughter to see him like this, being brought into the BAU bullpen in handcuffs. He was supposed to be the good guy.

Right now, he couldn’t tell if he still was. He had good intentions going down to Mexico to get non-FDA approved medicine for his mom but he may have killed someone in the process. If only he could just remember.

Camellia ran into his arms to hug him, a hug he so desperately wanted to return if it wasn’t for these stupid cuffs around his wrists.

“They can’t just take you away, Dad,” she cried.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m going to get back to you as soon as possible,” he promised, kissing the top of her head.

Spencer felt absolutely crushed as the guards had to drag his crying 11-year-old off of him so he could be taken to his holding cell.

You had just gotten off of work when your phone rang. Eileen, the head foster care coordinator, was calling.

“Hello,” you answered.

“Hey Y/N,” she greeted you, “I know you haven’t had a foster kid in a few months but I kind of have an urgent case. 11-year-old sixth grade girl. Mom has been out of the picture for a while, Dad recently imprisoned and on trial for murder. There are a bunch of family friends willing to take her but no direct family,” she explained.

“I can take her for as long as she needs,” you told Eileen.

“Great! I’ll text you the address, it’s the FBI headquarters.”

When you walked into the BAU, still in your dino scrubs and white lab coat, Eileen was surrounded by a frantic group of people.

“As I said before, I don’t doubt any of your credentials but this is the law. We can only give away a child to direct family at this point in time. If you are not direct family, you will need a lawyer to fight for custody as well as permission from her father but that process could take months,” Eileen stated.

“Spencer hasn’t spoken to his father in years and his mother is in a facility for her schizophrenia and Alzheimer’s,” a dark-haired woman spoke.

“Exactly so she must be turned over to the foster care system. I apologize to you all but this is how it works. We can’t bend the rules,” Eileen said.

“I don’t want Callie fending for herself in a house with 20 other kids,” a blonde-haired woman argued, “I’m her godmother. She stays with me all the time. She was staying with me while Spencer was in Mexico.”

“Sorry, my answer is still no. But, hopefully this will squash your concerns, Y/N!” she called you over, “This is Y/N. Jo will be placed with her. She is a pediatric doctor and currently has no other foster kids at the moment but all of her past kids have absolutely adored her. She always passes her surprise safety and wellness checks with flying colors.

“Hi,” you waved, intimidated by this huge group of frustrated people with guns on their hips.

“A doctor? So she isn’t even going to be home most of the time,” a curly-haired man scoffed.

“Actually, I own my own practice. I don’t work at a hospital so I usually have a regular 8-4 shift unless one of my patients needs urgent attention,” you clarified.

“JJ, don’t make me go,” a girl, who you could only assume was Callie, sobbed.

They were all staring at you like you were the worst person on Earth. You wanted to shrivel up and die. When you went through the process of becoming a foster parent, you thought this was a very admirable thing to do. You just wanted to provide a good home to kids in need.

“Do any of you have a key to Dr. Reid’s residence so Camellia can pack a bag?” you asked politely.

The woman closest to Callie that must be JJ pulled a key off of her chain and handed it to you.

“I’ll-um-leave my phone number and address here so you guys can contact me at any time or stop by. I understand your concerns but please know I try my absolute hardest to make sure all kids feel welcome and safe in my house,” you scribbled your information down on a scrap piece of paper.

“Are you ready to go, Camellia?” you asked softly.

She went around hugging everyone in the circle before solemnly nodding to you.

God, you felt like such an asshole.

After Callie finished packing her things from her bedroom in relative silence, you returned to the car.

“I don’t know what you like to eat but we can stop at the grocery store so we can get stuff you like and any other things you need,” you said.

You were met with silence from the backseat. You offered for her to sit in the passenger seat but she declined.

“Listen, I’m really not trying to be the bad guy here. Please don’t make me out to be one. I know you are having a tough time with your Dad’s situation right now but shutting everyone else out won’t help,” you spoke softly, “Trust me, I know.”

You sighed when the silence continued. You pulled out of the Reid’s driveway and headed to the grocery store.

You let Callie lead when you entered the grocery store, opting to follow behind her with the cart. She went immediately to the frozen meal section and started throwing them in.

“Camellia, that’s fine if those are what you want but just so you know, I love to cook so I can make you anything you want,” you offered.

“This is what I’m used to,” she spoke sharply, “My dad is not a bad dad, he just usually doesn’t have much time.”

“I never claimed he was,” you defended yourself.

After that, you kept your mouth shut. Clearly, she was a very independent girl and she had her own routine she liked to stick to.

You hauled all the grocery bags inside the house and unloaded them as Callie brought in her suitcases.

“So Camellia, I put all the food you picked out in these two cabinets. I mean obviously, you are welcome to anything in the kitchen but I just wanted you to know where the things you picked out were. I always have a grocery list on the fridge that you can add to,” you began to give her a tour of the house, “Bathroom is in there. There’s another upstairs. Here’s the living room with a TV,” you headed up the stairs, “Here’s my room.”

On your bed was an adorable toyger kitten cuddled up on your pillow.

“Oh! This is Winnie like Winnie the Pooh. I just got her a few weeks ago from a shelter. She is super friendly and loves snuggles so she will probably try to sneak into your bed unless you keep your door closed.”

“I don’t mind,” Callie spoke softly as she petted Winnie.

You smiled softly. These were the first words you got out of her that weren’t a rejection.

You continued the tour, “There’s a bathroom between our rooms but I tend to use the downstairs one so feel free to make it your own. And here’s your room,” you opened the door to a white room with a queen bed in the center, a small bookshelf, a few plants, and paintings.

“I hope this is good enough for now. We can go out this weekend to a home goods store if you want to redecorate. I’d even be open to repainting it if you want,” you offered.

Callie just set her bags down and nodded.

“Alright, I’ll leave you be. I’ll probably be downstairs for a while watching TV if you want to join. Let me know if you want me to make you anything,” you began to shut the door but Winnie slipped in first.

“Good night, you guys,” you smiled softly.

“Do you want me to wait out here or come in with you?” you asked softly.

Spencer had been denied bail, meaning he was transferred to a federal prison and Callie was going to be staying with you for a while. She had taken the news rather hard as expected when the team came over to your house to tell her. You still weren’t really accepted by the group so you mostly stood in the corner of the kitchen while they were all in your living room.

You had spoken to Eileen several times about Callie’s current situation. She gave you permission to do whatever you saw fit. This means you could opt her out of school one or two days a week if she wasn’t feeling up to it as long as she emailed her teachers and got her missed work in on time. You were researching different therapists for her to talk to because she didn’t seem to want to open up to you. You were also given a schedule of visiting times for her to visit her dad in prison.

“I’ll just go in alone,” she walked in the door to the visiting room, leaving you in the waiting room.

“Dad,” Callie tried to hug Spencer but the guard pointed to the ‘No Touching’ sign posted on the wall.

They both sat down defeatedly at opposite ends of the table.

“How are you?” Callie inquired, wiping her tears away from seeing her father locked up.

“I don’t want to talk about me, sweetheart. How are you? Emily and my lawyer visited yesterday and told me you had to be placed into foster care,” Spencer asked, concerned.

“It’s okay. Not the best,” she sighed.

“What’s happening? Are they hurting you? Are they not giving you enough to eat? Callie, I’ll have my lawyer on the phone and you out of there so quick,” Spencer frantically stated.

“No, Dad. Y/N is fine…nice, even. But she’s not you,” Callie cried.

Spencer’s face softened, “I’m so sorry, Callie. You don’t deserve to be dealing with any of this.”

“Just please come home,” she sniffled.

“I’m trying, sweetheart, I’m really trying,” he replied earnestly with tears in his eyes.

A/N: i will also be starting a series taglist if you don’t want to be added to my main taglist so just clarify which one you want to join! also i recommend listening to the song Home by Phillip Phillips because it is kind of like the theme song for this story

main taglist (just ask to be added/removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187 @babymetaldoll @fics4arainyday @ssavanessa22 @all-tings-diego

series taglist: @ilovespencerreidmarryme

#spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid #cm fanfic #spencer x reader #reid x reader #criminal minds

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malinthebodyguard · 2 years

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Heavy is the head:The Crown and Young Royals

PSA: Any mentions of Queen Elizabeth and other members of the BRF in this post refer exclusively to their fictional characters in The Crown and not the actual people. I’m not a real PPO and I don’t know these people.

As a fan of both shows, I’ve always felt that Young Royals borrowed a lot from Queen Elizabeth’s characterization in The Crown for Kristina’s character. After rewatching a few scenes from The Crown, not only am I convinced that this is the case, but that I also wanted to compare how these two shows represent monarchy.

One of the central themes of The Crown is the idea that ‘heavy is the head that holds the crown. In order to be Queen, Elizabeth has to sacrifice herself. This is explicitly stated by Elizabeth’s grandmother in a letter she sends the new Queen after her father’s death in the first season:

If we were to remove the context of monarchy from this message, it would be read as an incredibly insensitive one. Elizabeth had just lost her dad, whom she absolutely adored. She was now expected to put aside any grief in the name of the monarchy. We see how this is incredibly painful for her. Later in the episode, there’s a heartbreaking scene where Elizabeth cannot bear to see her father’s body. When she finally dares to take a a peek, the sight of his corpse sends her into sobs. The entire set-up seems absolutely tragic. Yet in the show, Elizabeth Windsor dies so Elizabeth Regina can live. The Crown frames this as a noble sacrifice. One that she makes for her people, almost akin to the Passion of Jesus.

We see something similar with Kristina after Erik’s death:

Kristina, the woman, cannot mourn her son. That woman does not exist-- only the Queen exists. Her only concern is that ‘The Crown must win’. In this case, for the Crown to win Wilhelm must adjust to his new role. Like Elizabeth, we know this is incredibly painful for Kristina. We see the pain and anguish she is trying to repress. She’s unable to have more than a single bite of food.

But Young Royals isn’t framing this as noble, but as sad and uncomfortable. Still, for the rest of the episode, Wilhelm tries to embrace the idea that ‘The Crown must in. He tries to mourn Wille so he can become Kronprinsen. But His grief, his anxiety, his longing for Simon prove to be too much for him and by the end of the episode he renounces this sacrifice.

The Crown also shows us a Crown Prince struggling to sacrifice himself for the monarchy. Charles and Wilhelm’s storylines are also very similar to each other (Wilhelm, sweetie, I am so sorry... It’s absolutely true, but I’m still sorry).

Charles and Wilhelm are constantly struggling to choose between love and duty. Choosing love means choosing Charles Mountabtten-Windsor, choosing Wilhelm the Man. Their duty is to kill those men and become the Prince of Wales and Kronprinsen respectively, but neither one of them is capable of following through with this sacrifice. Their inability to fully commit to either the monarchy or their desires drives them to dishonesty and infidelity. But even when they try to comply to The Crown, they’re unable to get over Camilla and Simon:

In both shows, we get a big confrontation scene where each Prince informs their Queen that they want to choose love. In The Crown, Charles informs his mother that he’s suffering in his marriage and that he wants to separate form Diana. The Queen outright refuses this by claiming that it’s not Charles and Diana who are suffering, but the people who are forced to watch their disastrous marriage:

This resonates a lot with Kristina’s comment to Wilhelm in episode 6:

Both Queens accuse their sons of being selfish and blind to their privilege. Elizabeth doesn’t even criticize her son’s actually reproachable behavior, but his inability to behave how people expect him to. Again, if we were to remove the context of the monarchy these would be pretty unfair things to say to your son. But these are not mothers. They are monarchs that had to kill their own selves for the Crown. And as the both of them see it, ‘The Crown must always win.’

Once again, the big difference between the two scenes comes down to framing. Although The Crown asks the audience to understand where Charles is coming from, it nonetheless presents him as lesser than his mother, who despite the difficulties still became Elizabeth Regina. As I mentioned before, The Crown tells us this is a sacrifice done for the people. And like his mother, Charles must suffer for the benefit of the people. That’s the Christ-like Passion of the Monarchy.

In Young Royals, Wilhelm ultimately acquiesces to his mother. But rather than him fulfilling a noble sacrifice, this choice is framed as a betrayal. It’s a betrayal of Simon, but also of himself. It’s also a betrayal of Wilhelm by his own mother, who choses to protect the monarchy over her only living child.

Beyond the framing, there is another key difference between how each show presents the idea that ‘The Crown must win’. The Crown justifies this belief by arguing that Elizabeth’s sacrifice is done for the people of the UK and the Commonwealth. The show does question if the monarchy is truly being of service to the people. Nearly always, the show answers this with a yes. And as long as it’s for that purpose, all of Elizabeth’s sacrifice is worth it.

In Young Royals though, this question is missing. I think this is choice was deliberate. We see that the public are interested in the Royals in the same way most people are interested in celebs. But we receive no in-story justification for why this institution must prevail, no Swedish public that is wanting or in need of a god-like monarch to sacrifice themselves for their sake.

Of course, we still don’t know in which direction this story is going in regards to the monarchy. But from what we’ve seen so far, Young Royals is taking this idea of ‘The Crown’ must win’ and turning it into : but why must the crown win?

#Young Royals #comparison #The Crown #queen kristina #prince wilhelm #catch me again on that anti monarchy bs #WILHELM IM SO SORRY I'LL NEVER COMPARE YOU TO CHARLES AGAIN #also how do we get all these actors in one project togehter #the talent #my post #mg says #my analysis

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frostedfaves · 3 years

Text

Dark Paradise

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!WandaNat x fem!reader

Summary: You meet the infamous Avengers on spring break with your best friend Peter, and two of them seem to adore you more than expected. Requested here by my lovely 🐞anon.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! dark themes, manipulation, mind control, blackmailing, age gap (reader is 21), dubcon (saying this just to be safe because Wanda uses her powers for evil a lot here), smut: oral, fingering, penetration/sex toy use, voyeurism (kinda), edging, overstimulation (if I forgot something please let me know!)

A/N: hi this is 6k words, which is the longest single fic I’ve ever written/posted here haha. also the end is not technically the end, if you know what I mean. anyway this took forever to write so enjoy this super far from canon fic and please tell me what you thought!! (also if you’re on my taglist and you weren’t tagged it’s because your age wasn’t in your bio)

“Here, let me take that for you,” Peter offers when he notices you headed toward the car, and you hand your suitcase to him with a smile.

“Thanks, P.”

You close the car door behind you after getting in on the passenger side, instantly reaching for his phone resting on the dashboard once you were buckled in. The two of you had an unspoken rule that you controlled the music whenever you traveled together, so his library was filled with various playlists you’d created simply because you didn’t trust him not to listen to the same five songs for the rest of his life.

“This is different,” Peter comments as he gets in on the driver’s side and catches the opening notes to an upbeat song. “I thought you were going to go with something calmer to help you sleep, like you usually do.”

“Well, I’m not usually going to meet the Avengers, so I’m too nervous to sleep.” You turn to pout at him as he drives off. “Is it too late to cancel?”

“Don’t even think about it. If I show up without you, everyone will think you’re imaginary.”

“Do they think you can’t make any friends outside of Ned?” you question as you open a bottle of water. “Because they’re not wrong.”

“I can make friends!” Peter whines and a quiet snorting sound escapes you.

“You can’t use me as an example.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re not actually friends.”

He picks up on your teasing nature and rolls his eyes, causing you to laugh as you lean back and settle into your seat more. You had well over three hours to stress about spending a week with the world’s most popular superheroes, and you’d rather be comfortable while you do so.

“Wake up, we’re here!”

Your eyes fly open at the sound of Peter’s voice, and any of the nerves that left long enough to let you sleep made a U-turn and hit you again, full force. Sitting up straight in the seat, you practice breathing properly while stretching and taking a look around as he pulls into the garage.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks once he parks, placing a hand over yours as he meets your gaze and you smile.

“I’ll be fine, P. I’m not gonna miss out on hanging out with you just because your super family is super intimidating.”

“Good. Besides, it won’t even be that bad! I’m willing to bet $1 million that they’ll love you.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” you tell him as the two of you get out of the car. “But you’re going to regret that bet when I use your money to retire early in some faraway rural town.”

Peter carried both suitcases as you made your way to an elevator, and you jumped when you suddenly heard a male voice.

“Welcome, Mr. Parker and Ms. L/N.”

“What is that?” you questioned as you faced Peter with wide eyes and he chuckled.

“You’re hearing Jarvis, Mr. Stark’s AI. Hey Jarvis, can you take us to the common room, please?”

“Right away, Mr. Parker.”

“This is so cool,” you comment as you look around the suddenly moving elevator. “How does it know my name?”

“Knowing everything is kind of its job, I guess.”

“Underoos!” a voice calls as soon as the doors open, quickly revealing itself to belong to Tony Stark as his gaze lands on you next. “So she is real.”

“I told you!” Peter defends as you step off the elevator together. “Mr. Stark, this is Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, kid,” Tony greets you with a shake of your hand. “I’m glad he found you. I was starting to worry that he’d build a robot to spend the rest of his life with.”

“I’m just his best friend, so it’s still possible.”

“Is this your friend, Peter?” Steve cuts off Peter’s response as he enters the room, moving to shake your hand next. “I’m Steve. Nice to meet you.”

“Okay, I’m going to show her to our rooms and then we’ll be back for dinner,” Peter tells everyone once you’d been introduced to Pepper, Bruce and Clint as well, and you’re about to head for the elevator again when someone interrupts.

“How about we take her down to her room instead?”

Your eyes widen as you watch none other than Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff enter the room hand in hand. Natasha’s hair seemed much longer than the last time she’d been in the public eye, but her all-knowing smirk was just the same and her green eyes were even more piercing in person. You noticed a bit of red glowing in Wanda’s eyes, which faded as she probably realized you’d seen, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that meant she hated you already.

“I know what you’re up to, Red.” Tony seemed accusatory as he pointed a finger at the pair. “You can’t bribe her into helping you cheat tonight.”

“Maybe I planned on giving her tips for surviving this testosterone filled tower.”

Natasha steps forward and grabs your hand with her free one, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda has your suitcase floating in front of you as they lead you into the elevator.

“Sorry to whisk you away like that,” Wanda apologizes as the doors close with her head tilted to see you past Natasha. “We’re just excited to meet a new woman here.”

“No, it’s okay!” you insist breathlessly, your nerves slowly returning as Natasha lightly squeezes your hand. “I’m actually really excited to meet the two of you.”

“You know who we are?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I know you personally, but I know that you’re one of the original team members.” You make eye contact briefly with Natasha before turning to Wanda. “And because the news stations somehow get ahold of everything, I know you joined after you helped everyone stop Ultron before he could create that indestructible body and destroy the world.”

“Yes, that’s true. Although I wish I could’ve saved my brother, too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you lost him...or that you even had a brother.”

“It’s okay,” Wanda assures you with a smile as she lets go of Natasha, shifting to the other side of the elevator to grab your free hand. “I asked Fury to keep Pietro a secret because I didn’t want to see or hear any negative opinions from people that never even met him.”

“And we have plenty of time to get to know each other,” Natasha chimes in as the doors open to reveal a new setting. “This is our floor. We set up a spare bedroom here so we can spend time together away from the boys...when you’re not with Peter, of course.”

“Yeah, that’d be great!”

They lead you past their living room and kitchen, and you shamelessly admire the simple decor with little personal touches spread about. Turning into a hallway, Natasha walks ahead of you and Wanda to open a door to a bedroom.

“What do you think?” she asks with a smile that widens upon seeing your expression. “I’m guessing it’s good, then.”

“It’s perfect!” you cry out as you walk past to enter the room, immediately noticing the eggshell colored walls trimmed with your favorite color along the borders. “Wow, this is four times the size of a normal bedroom. Wait a minute.”

“Do you like it?” Wanda asks when she sees you pick up the glass figurine on the nightstand. “Peter mentioned your love of this animal and I have a whole collection of them from different places.”

“Like it? I love it! I have the same one in my dorm room!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can get you a different one.” She steps forward as she brings your suitcase to the floor beside the bed and you hug the small object close to your chest.

“Like I said, it’s perfect,” you assure her with a grin, which brings one to her own face.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy with the set up. When you’re ready to head up to dinner, we’ll be waiting by the elevator. Also, if you ever need anything, our room is right across the hall.”

Natasha points to the closed door a few feet away, and you acknowledge her statement with a nod before they leave the room, closing your door nearly all the way behind them. You flop down on the bed with a dreamy sigh as you gaze up at the ceiling with a night sky painted on it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave this place.”

On the elevator ride up to join everyone for dinner, Natasha and Wanda take turns asking you questions about your classes and any friends you’d made, what you liked to do when you weren’t studying. You had to admit that the level of interest they had with you was shocking but flattering, especially when they insisted you sit between them at the table to continue your conversation.

“You don’t seem to be nervous anymore,” Peter acknowledges as you sit down, and Wanda faces you immediately.

“Were you nervous about meeting us?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer timidly, avoiding catching anyone’s curious glances by directing a glare toward Peter. “You might be normal people in here, but to the rest of the world, you’re portrayed as powerful and untouchable beings.”

“Maybe when they’re not talking about how much damage we’ve caused,” Bruce mumbles under his breath as the elevator doors opened again.

“I’m here, I’m here!” a voice calls as footsteps hurry toward the dining area, and Sam Wilson is revealed as he rounds the corner. “Sorry, I’m late. I was--”

“On a date, we know. You only told us that 500 times.”

“Don’t be jealous, old man. You’re married.” Sam grins at Clint as he sits next to him before his attention turns to you. “Do we have a newbie?”

“No, Mr. Wilson. This is my best friend, Y/N.”

“Call me Sam, kid.” He smiles at you as he goes for his silverware, and you’re just about to acknowledge him when his expression suddenly turns serious. “I’m sorry. You’re not a kid. You’re an independent and capable adult, and I should address you as such.”

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know.” Sam clears his throat and shakes his head as if he was clearing his mind. “I just suddenly felt the need to correct myself…You have any powers we should know about, Y/N?”

“No!” you quickly respond with widened eyes. “I wasn’t going to say anything, actually. I’m pretty used to older people calling me kid by now.”

From your left side, Natasha asks Clint to recall an embarrassing tale for you and the table livens up again, but you can’t seem to move past the unsettling way Sam shifted gears from calm and casual to uptight and disciplined. The image stayed with you through the rest of dinner even after he seemed to fully recover, until dishes were cleared away and replaced with games, and you suddenly had a lot more to focus on.

“I just don’t think it’s fair that he gets to be on your team again when I haven’t had him once.”

“Is anything fair with the guy who could use his personalized AI to cheat for him?”

“Could I do that? Yes. But have I done that? Maybe.”

“Wanna grab some fresh air with us?” Natasha suddenly asks you, causing you to frown.

“Aren’t we about to play another game?”

“It’ll take them another half hour before they finally decide something,” Wanda assures you as her fingers thread through yours gently. “We have plenty of time, and they won’t even notice we’re gone.”

They lead you by the hand to the elevator once more, going up a few floors before leading you out onto a balcony. Because you were so much higher than most of the surrounding buildings, there was an incredible view of the sun that was probably minutes away from disappearing to the other side of the world. The air is chillier than when you’d arrived, but you had to admit that standing in the cool breeze is worth a few goosebumps on your skin. Your hands are released as you reach a bench near the ledge, and you climb over it to sit as the other two women settle on either side of you.

“Why did Peter decide to share his secret with you?”

“Technically he didn’t,” you recall with a laugh. “He’d gone out to deal with something that activated his spider sense or whatever and I came to his dorm room to sleep after an exam because I was too tired to walk all the way to my place. Anyway, I walk in at the same time he’s coming back in through the window, and I swear we both sat there for a full two minutes before either of us could think of anything to say.”

“It’s still very nice of you to keep such a big secret for him,” Natasha praises, and your laughter quiets down as you take in her words.

“I guess I just know what it feels like to not want your life to change drastically because of one thing.” Your gaze shifts between the women for a moment. “That reminds me, I wanted to ask--”

“Wait, look at this!” Wanda quickly cuts you off with an enthusiastic grin. “You’re about to witness one of my favorite things about living here.”

She directs you to lean over and look at the streets as the sun finally disappears over the horizon, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes you. Street lights begin turning on at what seems to be the center of the city and quickly spreading, increasing the radius of well-lit neighborhoods by the second. It was a mesmerizing sight that--until every lamp was on--nearly made you forget the question you were building toward.

“That was so cool!” you express honestly before clearing your throat awkwardly. “So I wanted to ask if the two of you were dating...or in a relationship or whatever. I mean, I don’t want to assume anything of course, just wondering because you share a room and floor, and you seem to be really into holding hands.”

“Well, I’d never really been into holding hands or a lot of other forms of affection before I met Wanda, but she seemed to flip some switch inside of me.” Natasha admitted with a bashful chuckle as she glanced at Wanda before turning to study you. “And your hands are so perfect to hold.”

“To answer your question, we are together.” Wanda rests a hand on your thigh and casts a sweet smile in your direction when you face her again. “Natasha was the first to give me a chance after everything with Ultron, and initially I thought I was just feeling grateful to receive some type of positive attention from someone other than Pietro. It wasn’t until Tash called me out on staring at her lips that I realized I wanted more than friendship.”

“The only reason I did was to confirm she was feeling the same things I’d finally come to terms with myself.” Natasha chuckles as Wanda sends over a bit of red mist to squeeze her own thigh. “What about you, love?”

“What about me?”

“Do you think you’re feeling more than friendship for Peter?”

“Oh no,” you quickly denied with a chuckle. “He’s the perfect example of a great boyfriend, but not my boyfriend. Plus I’d rather not have the same experience as MJ did.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the ‘close friends to a relationship that ends with each person pretending the other doesn’t exist’ experience. I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, that does sound messy,” Natasha sighs as she subtly rests her hand on your other thigh. “So you’re not looking for a great boyfriend. What are you looking for then?”

“Nothing really, at least until I finish school, but having a girlfriend would be nice. I’d like to be with someone that respects me and can take care of themselves when I’m not around, because I tried the ‘caring for someone’ thing and it sucks when they don’t put in the same effort that you do.”

“Maybe you should try someone older, more mature,” Natasha suggests as she shifts to squeeze your knee lightly, and you start to feel a bit nervous about where she’s going with this. “Maybe two people that already have their shit together and would go to the ends of the earth to please you.”

“Okay, um…” You push both of their hands away with a bit of difficulty. “You both seem great and you’re incredibly attractive, but I’m not really interested.”

“Don’t worry about it, detka.” Natasha pushes your shoulder down as you try to get up, and Wanda cups your cheek with her hand.

“You may not be interested now…” She stands with Natasha and leans in to kiss your forehead, letting her lips linger on your skin as she continues. “But you will be.”

She pulls away and winks before lacing her fingers through Natasha’s as they leave the balcony, and you gasp in air as the tension they’d built seems to exit behind them. You finally decide to head back once you’ve taken a few minutes to catch your breath and calm your shaking limbs, but you wonder how long the calm will truly last.

You found yourself waking up suddenly and practically flying into a sitting position as if someone had pulled you up, but luckily the room is empty. You sit for a moment to catch your breath and survey your surroundings to assure you’re truly alone, and you notice your door is cracked right before you hear an unidentifiable sound.

“Fuck.”

Despite every fiber of your being screaming at you as one would do to a character in a horror film, you decide to climb out of bed to investigate what you were hearing, justifying your actions with the excuse of seeing if your floor-mates were in danger, as if you could save them. A few seconds after opening your door fully and peeking out made you realize that they were more than okay.

“Fuck! Right there, please don’t stop.”

“Such a dirty mouth, malyshka.”

You’re quick to return the door to its cracked position, leaning against the nearby wall with wide eyes as you attempt to process the image across the hall. The bedroom door sits wide open, giving you the chance to examine every inch of bare skin of the two women spread across the bed, Wanda resting on her arched back with her hands in Natasha’s red hair buried between her legs. Her moans seem to raise in volume, pitch and frequency as she’s brought closer and closer to the edge, and you ignore the warm feeling in your lower abdomen as you hurry back to bed and throw a pillow over your exposed ear.

“Good morning.”

Your free hand quickly shoots upward to catch your water glass as it slipped through your fingers in your moment of shock, and you try not to make a deal of hearing two sets of footsteps headed toward the kitchen.

“How’d you sleep last night? I know how scary it can be to rest your eyes in a new place.”

“I think I did pretty well,” you answer quietly as you step away from the fridge and lean against a section of the counter that faces out into the rest of the room. “The bed’s really nice.”

“You’re lying,” Wanda accuses as she crosses the room, eyes turning red and hands lifting toward your face.

“What are you--”

“Couldn’t sleep because of us, right?” She chuckles when you go limp under her touch, and Natasha ducks between the two of you to save your glass for the second time. “Did you enjoy hearing us that much?”

“You did sound really good,” you tell her with a drowsy smile as she pins you against the counter to keep you from falling.

“I bet you wish you were in my place, don’t you?” Her tone is light and teasing at first, becoming a bit stern as she shifts to push her thigh between your legs and you instantly roll your hips against the pressure. “Or maybe you want to taste me while Natasha fucks you?”

“No.”

“No?!” she fires back immediately, leaving a red mist around your temples as she grabs your waist with both hands to keep you grinding against her. “You mean you don’t want to cum right now?”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

A breathy moan escapes you as your eyes flutter closed, and if your head wasn’t being forcefully held in place, it would’ve tipped backward. You feel what must be Natasha’s fingertips grazing along your jaw and tracing a line down the side of your neck and toward your shoulder, repeating the gentle motion as goosebumps appeared all over the exposed skin.

“Is everyone decent?”

The fog behind your eyes seems to clear in seconds, and you blink in confusion when you open your eyes to see Natasha and Wanda making coffee nearby. You try to recall even coming into the kitchen, but everything from the moment you stepped into the bathroom to get ready is a blur, so you shake your head and reach for your glass of water on the counter as Natasha responds.

“Come in, Peter.”

“Morning, everyone,” Peter greets cheerfully as he enters the kitchen, his grin falling when his eyes land on you. “Are you okay?”

You open your mouth with the full intention of telling him that you are not okay, not when you were missing at least an hour of memory, and bits of last night were slipping away from you too. But before you could speak, a cold feeling seems to pass through the back of your skull to slip into your brain, and a switch flips.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you respond with a chuckle. “You worry too much, spiderling.”

“The world’s a stressful place,” he grumbles when you playfully ruffle his hair. “Anyway, are you ready to go soon?”

“Where are you headed?” Natasha quickly asks with a frown. “Y/N hasn’t even had breakfast yet.”

“We’re meeting Aunt May, so we’ll eat with her.”

“I just have to grab my bag,” you explain before heading down the hall to your temporary room, feeling the chilly sensation leaving you as you get further away from the kitchen, and it thankfully doesn’t return when you head back. “Ready.”

“Have fun!” Natasha calls as Peter heads for the elevator again, quickly grabbing your wrist once he’s out of sight. “See you tonight, printsessa.”

Her hand quickly shifts to grip the back of your neck as she leans in to kiss your cheek, and the two women are wearing sweet smiles as you turn away from them to catch up with Peter, attempting to shake the shell-shocked expression from your features.

“You sure you’re good?”

“I’m fine,” you insist as the doors close, in hopes that you really would be fine.

Meeting Peter’s aunt was much more of a pleasant experience than you expected, and it was obvious she adored you by the way she spoke to you, although part of you felt she was just happy Peter had more people around to love him. Your day was cut a bit short when MJ unexpectedly approached Peter, requesting to talk to him, and Aunt May offered to drive you back to the tower so you both could escape that awkward mess of a conversation.

“It was so great to meet you today,” you tell her with a grin as you take off your seatbelt.

“Likewise, honey. You have my number so just call me if you ever need anything, okay?”

She pulls you into a hug over the middle console and you thank her again for the ride as you get out of the car, trying not to seem too nervous when you notice Natasha and Wanda standing in the lobby. Your plan was to walk past them without speaking, but you should’ve known that wouldn’t work.

“Why was she hugging you?” Natasha asks coldly as you enter the building and you sigh.

“She was just saying goodbye--wait. Why am I explaining myself to you?”

You keep walking until they’re no longer in your peripheral, stopping abruptly as a red mist surrounds your legs, and your eye-rolling is cut short when Wanda appears in front of you and grabs your chin harshly.

“If Tash asks you a question, you answer.”

“Without attitude,” Natasha adds, which makes you want to roll your eyes again.

“Sorry, I didn’t get the rules handbook when I arrived. Can I go now?”

“You know what?” Wanda cuts off Natasha’s angry response with a smirk. “You can go.”

The red mist surrounding you disappeared, and despite the suspicious feeling that washed over you, you continued on toward the elevator with your head held high. You refused to let them get to you.

It was subtle at first. A slight tingling between your legs that you couldn’t seem to get rid of. In the very beginning, you were worried that something was wrong until you realized where the feeling was coming from when it turned into slow circles around your clit as you caught up with Peter in his room. By dinner, there was the added sensation of fingers curling inside you at a steady pace, and you hoped no one would notice your hips slightly bucking under the table as you attempted to repeatedly chase a release that never came.

A movie follows dinner today, and you make sure to cover yourself with a large blanket because you were still being edged and you couldn’t stop moving at this point. You even try to slide your hand into your sweatpants to finish the job yourself, and your jaw clenches in anger every time your fingers lock up because you know who’s responsible.

“Okay, you win!” you announce as you walk into the kitchen on Natasha and Wanda’s private floor, not missing the look shared between the two women. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. Can you please just stop teasing me?”

“How about we help you finish instead?”

You should decline. You should just say ‘no’ because letting them finish you off tonight will turn into an attachment that you know you don’t want, nor are you ready for. Inviting them in will be equivalent to selling your soul, and you’re not sure you want to put a price on it. But the ache below your stomach is persistent, and if they won’t let you touch yourself, someone has to do it.

“Fine.”

“Don’t be so grumpy about it,” Wanda teases as she grabs your hand and starts leading you toward their bedroom. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

She pushes you back onto the surprisingly large bed as soon as you’re close enough, instructing you to take off your shirt and bra while she watches. Once your top half is completely exposed, she leans forward to run her hands from your shoulders down toward your nipples, circling them with her thumbs until they harden.

“I don’t like being teased.”

“Oh, you don’t?” she asks in a mocking tone as she reaches for the band of your sweatpants and pulls them down, placing her palm over the wet spot in your panties. “Then what’s this?”

“Please,” you beg through a quiet moan, bucking your hips again when she presses her thumb against your clit through the fabric. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Patience, detka.”

You watch with wide eyes as Natasha and Wanda both strip away their own sweatpants, revealing the toys tied to their legs. Natasha goes to untie hers while Wanda uses her powers to rip away your ruined panties in one fluid motion.

“There she is.”

Natasha puts her hand on Wanda’s back and forces her to bend over, and you bite your lip as her eyes flutter closed and mouth falls open while Natasha thrusts into her. You’re just about to grab Wanda’s hand to lead her where you want, when her eyes open suddenly with a glowing red surrounding her pupils, and your wrists are bound together over your head by an invisible force.

“Did you forget who’s in charge here?”

“Don’t get too cocky, malyshka,” Natasha reminds her as she grabs a fistful of her hair and slams into her, causing Wanda to moan and giggle at the same time.

“My apologies, Tash.”

You couldn’t help your sigh of relief as Wanda finally slid two fingers inside of you, her thrusts deepening each time as Natasha fucked her toward you with her hands on her hips. The sounds coming from your mouth and between your legs were embarrassingly loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as she brought you closer and closer to the edge, until a loud whine escaped you as she removed her fingers and delivered a slap to your glistening folds.

“Tell me who this belongs to,” she orders through her own moans, holding you down when you begin grinding into her hand. “I’m gonna cum regardless of what you do, so you’d better answer. Be a good girl like I know you can.”

“Yours!” you cry out finally, sighing when Natasha leans into your line of sight with a brow raised. “It’s yours and Natasha’s.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She slips back into you without warning, and your back arches off the bed as she finally brings you to orgasm. She continues to thrust into you as you whine and squirm away, luckily slowing down and finally stopping as Natasha makes her cum a minute later, leaving the strap inside of her as they both catch their breath. Wanda pulls out of you and sits up to lean against her, holding her hand up between them as they both clean your cum off her fingers with their tongues, and you sit there clenching around nothing as you watch.

“You seem tired,” Natasha comments as her eyes land on you again.

“Too bad we’re not done.”

Wanda flips you onto your stomach with a quick motion of her fingers, using her hands to pull you by the waist until you’re on your knees at the edge of the bed, and she holds one side of your waist as she delivers a slap to your ass this time. Her touch lingers as she pulls away to free her own strap, and you nearly fall over when you feel the tip of the toy rub against your clit.

“Wait, let me fuck her this time.”

You hear their soft laughter as they switch places, sharing a kiss in the process, and you gasp when a hand wraps around your neck and pulls you up against Natasha’s chest.

“I like having you this close to me, printsessa,” she whispers in your ear, chuckling when you melt against her as she pushes the tip of her strap into you. “How many times do you think I can get you to cum?”

Her grip on your throat is loose as she allows you to adjust to the size, tightening suddenly when she slams into you once, twice, until every thrust is at a rough pace that you wouldn’t be able to handle if she wasn’t holding you against her by the waist. You feel that same tingling circling your clit again, occasionally traveling upward to tease your nipples as well, and it wasn’t long before you were releasing a strangled scream as you climaxed.

Natasha eventually stops thrusting into you as your legs shake, and you breathe out another sigh of relief when she allows you to fall onto the mattress. However, the relief is short-lived when you realize that she only paused to let Wanda push into her from behind, and it wasn’t long before the two of them found a rhythm that was pleasing them and ruining you.

Your wrists are freed as Natasha pulls out of you some minutes later, and you collapse onto one side of the bed with your body aching a bit from a third orgasm, your eyes only halfway open as you watch the pair. They remove the straps from their waists and set them aside, and you become a bit more alert when you notice Natasha grab what seems to be a double-ended dildo.

“No more. I can’t,” you mumble tiredly as your wrists are bound by Wanda’s power again.

“One more, and you can,” she tells you as she flops onto the bed beside you, and that red mist surrounds her fingers again as she guides you onto your knees to hover above her face. “You wanted to cum, so you don’t get to run from this.”

Her hands grab your waist and pull you closer, and you release a shuddering moan as her tongue runs past your hole and over your clit, teasing it a few times with the tip of her tongue before diving in to wrap her lips around it. She alternates between sucking your clit and slipping inside you as Natasha climbs on the bed behind you to position herself with the new toy.

“Fuck,” Wanda attempts to say once Natasha begins thrusting, and you fall forward as the vibration of her moans become too much, whining when Natasha slides her hands over your breasts and pulls you back up again.

“Take it all like a good girl.”

She keeps pulling until your head drops against her, and she moans against your neck while she kisses and sucks on your skin, bouncing faster on Wanda who groans loudly in response as she attempts to match each thrust. The hums of her voice has you grinding against her tongue, and you yelp when Natasha bites down just as Wanda brings you over the edge. She keeps going despite your protests, managing to get you to cum once more before they finally do.

You lie there with your bones feeling like jelly as you’re covered with a blanket minutes after everyone’s bathroom trip, too tired to even fight for sleeping in your own bed as Natasha and Wanda slide in on either side of you.

“You did so well tonight, detka,” Wanda praises as she strokes your cheek with a loving stare. “I can tell you’ll be a great addition to our relationship. I knew it from the moment I saw you.”

“I’m not doing this again,” you insist as the smile fades from her expression. “I’m not getting in a relationship with two women that don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and I’d prefer sleeping in my own bed.”

“You’re already in a relationship with us, printsessa,” Natasha growls as she shoves you back down when you try to get up, and you push her hand away.

“There’s nothing you can say that’ll make me want to be with you.”

“It’s not about what you want to do. It’s about what you have to do.” She grabs your phone from the nightstand, and you’re somehow not even surprised when she unlocks it on the first try. “Because it’d be a shame if someone was to tell Peter about all the nudes you have of him.”

You snatch the phone from her grip, eyes widening as you scroll through your camera roll, finding naked pictures of Peter scattered throughout it. You check the date on the oldest one and began to feel nauseous when you saw it was taken not even a month after the two of you met.

“Don’t think you’ll be deleting those either, because we can replace them and make things worse.” Her smile was falsely sweet and troubling as she grabbed your chin to force you to make eye contact. “We’ve gone this long without having you, and we’ll do whatever it takes not to lose you.”

Tags: @cordeliaswhore @egotisticalstoner @muralskins @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @teenwonder @honeyvenable @slut-for-nat

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afro-elf · 4 years

Text

fine, i’ll elaborate on my thoughts about tylor sift but they will be disorganized

disclaimer: i know a few people will read this and be like “op is a hozier fan can she really talk about the cultural obsession with mediocre white art?” and the answer is yes because a) i’m black and i have an english degree so can do whatever i fucking want, b) hozier is a better artist than taylor objectively, like his mediocre tracks would be considered her great ones, and c) the comparison of taylor to hozier is part of the problem Genuinely because i don’t even think white people like half the music they listen to, they just don’t wanna be left behind, we’ll get into this later. i’m sorry to everyone who is tired of hearing about him but hozier will be returning later in this post jsfglsjlgldsjlfd

second note: read this

i don’t just dislike taylor because she’s white. i don’t dislike taylor because she’s a woman. i don’t dislike her because she writes mean and petty lyrics about past relationships and people who wronged her. i don’t dislike taylor because her public circle of friends is almost exclusively blonde white celebrities with their own laundry lists of issues that includes ryan reynolds and blake lively who are poster children for white privilege and pseudo-excellence if i’ve ever seen them. i dislike taylor because the amalgamation of all of those things is so exemplary of a huge problem i have with the music industry in general but also like american society

fuck it, numbered list!

1. taylor swift consistently releases the same mediocre album but in different colors. every album is the same lyrically and tonally. her body of work rarely goes very far above “good for taylor swift”. folklore as both title and musical aesthetic is irrelevant to the actual content of the album, which is just every taylor swift album except set to folk pop and with a bit more cussing, congrats for baby’s first swear. i’ve seen folklore compared to much better bodies of work and even propped up by stans as album of the year, a distinction that rina sawayama and chloe x halle will be battling it out for if there is any justice in the world at all. the fact that she is allowed to do this and still be considered great when this is something that even white male artists are butchered critically for... astounds me. like we all know how well received all of coldplay’s similar sounding albums are.... Come on.

2. i don’t think taylor or her work is particularly feminist and yet for some reason every time she frowns an army of white women brings her kleenex. i’m not saying taylor’s anger has always been unjustified, but her feminism to me has always felt like “i can do whatever a man can do” feminism, which is utterly fucking useless to me as a black woman. it’s only useful to her because as a wealthy, white, straight, cis white woman her ONLY obstacle in life is her gender. and if she just didn’t have that tricky little bitch then maybe people would take her seriously. like, just think about her music video for the man... what was the thesis of that? what was the point of that? with all of her privileges she’d just be gaining a single extra privilege. she’s a blonde blue eyed thin white girl, the world kisses her feet. i have no interest in proving myself any better or any worse than white men, they are not the standard for how a person should be treated, they’re cautionary tales, and white women are too. i think taylor capitalizes off of white woman victimhood, and it’s all over her writing style. even when she’s trying to be empowered, like in mad woman for example, there is this tone to it of victimization, poking the bear, unleashing the beast if you will. she invokes the imagery of salem witches and even more boldly chooses a noose to write about in the song which is..... surely going to be a white tumblr staple for many gifsets to come but holy shit is it hollow. she also tends to come back to teenage memories in her music and she’s thirty. i don’t think about being seventeen unless i’m being held at gunpoint but she seems to think about it All The Time. and part of this is to keep herself young, at least in her music, which only further ingrains this image of fragile teeny bopper taylor into the mind of the listener, fueling her victim image. this imagery and language means nothing because the world always rallies around taylor. even when she was the butt of jokes for not being beyonce (which she is not and never can be) and writing about her exes (which she does), she was largely supported by the industry and by critics. look at how many fucking awards she has!

3. folk and indie and alternative music is in a moment of transition, where musicians of color are getting the chance to really speak about how they’ve been treated in these overwhelmingly white circles and create their own standards and their own voices. and for taylor swift to swoop in with aaron dessner and jack antonoff fantano and almost reassert that mid-2010s indie sound as The Sound of folk pop in the popular consciousness.... it makes me violent! it! makes! me! violent!

4. back to hozier! finally, i wanna talk about white standom, fandom, bandom, and womandom. i often see these very superficial comparisons between hozier and taylor (and hozier and florence and hozier and stevie nicks and hozier and whatever other white woman in fashion) and they frustrate me for more than one reason. i know that hozier has met taylor and said she’s cool, which is nice of him and he’s a nice man, but i’m not a nice man so i’m going to just say it: none of the people who have made those posts have listened to more than four hozier songs and it shows. the reason why this matters is because these posts catch on and create an image and preconception of hozier’s music that is divorced from reality and divorced from his influences and most importantly divorced from the deliberate and reverent blackness of his musical style. hozier has his white male privilege in the industry for sure but he’s not as towering of a giant as taylor and taylor’s music is an unsalted chicken, plain oatmeal, white paint drying on a white wall, a stick of unflavored gum. her music is so white it told me that its dad is a cop. i am, as a black hozier fan, exhausted with having to share space with white women who don’t know why hozier’s music kicks me in my lungs sometimes and think that taylor mentioning a tree ONCE in her 3 minute acoustic guitar slog about whatever suburb is the same when it simply is not. i swear some of you are pretending to love taylor because your friends love her and you don’t wanna be left out of the hot new musical discourse but she’s only the hot new musical discourse CONSTANTLY because she’s a white woman, she’s almost the Perfect white woman. like if someone asked me to describe a white woman, it would be taylor swift. her position at the top of the musical pyramid among people who eclipse her musically, vocally, and lyrically is only allowed because she’s The Perfect White Woman. she’s an ideal. white girls relate to her immediately because of it and now we have this unshakable mob of unbearable white women who think that the world has wronged someone who literally wrote fanfiction about the rich oil heiress white woman who owned her rhode island mansion before her aklghlghdhlgs it drives me fucking NUTS

anyway that’s all. if you made it this far, listen to adia victoria, kaia kater, samantha crain, valerie june, kelsey lu, corinne bailey rae, brittany howard, kimya dawson, japanese breakfast, cold specks, left at london, rhiannon giddens, aisha badru, shea diamond, nadine shah, xenia rubinos, karen o, mirel wagner.... Anyone

#me #taylor swift meanie hour #long post

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wh0reifyoudontexist · 3 years

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hi, i think the worst thing a man can do is cheat on a pregnant woman so could i request a fic with draco with that plot?

but that draco really loves his wife and someone from his environment influences him to cheat on her and from there whatever you want to happen:(

WAAAAAH ANGST MY FAVORITE

first words

draco malfoy x reader

post hogwarts

angst

request: yes | no

summary: draco cheats on his pregnant wife (i am not good at summaries excuse me)

warnings: curse words, cheating, i think that's it? tell me if i missed a few 😽

masterlist | navigation

"shit"

first word ever said between the two of them, needless to say that's the start of a romance novel; cliche isn't it?

spilled coffee all over a cream colored blouse, tears threatening to fall out of lids, ears ringing and full of apologies falling out of the mouth of a blonde that stood in front of her, one hand grasping a handkerchief, the other on her waist guiding the woman onto the side of diagon alley.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to," he said sincerely carefully damping the cloth in hand on her brown stained blouse, "let me make it up to you?" he questioned finally looking up at her, who's brows have been furrowed the whole time.

instead of answering, she lifted one of her arms, eyes straight on the watch enclosed on her wrist, before rubbing her face with both of her hands sighing loudly, "sure." she finally said, dismissing the thought to tell him she was expected to be in an interview 10 minutes ago.

and instead let him lead her to a cafe with his hand on her back.

that was a decade ago. now 29 married and pregnant with the same man who cost her a job; not that she needs one now.

setting down the cup of tea, circling her thumb on her swollen belly, feeling a kick "hi there darling, how you holding up in there?" she smiled, "your daddy's gonna be here soon, bet you're excited aren't you?" she whispered as she bought her hand up to kiss it before placing it on top of her stomach once more, rubbing it gently, "love you, little one"

what she didn't know? oh, it was that her husband wasn't going to 'be here soon'

she laid in bed moving to lay on her left, hand smoothing out her husband's side, brushing away non-existent dirt. 'he must have a lot of work left' was her mindset at that moment,

breathing out a sigh, she kissed her hand one last time for the night, placing it right above her stomach heading to sleep.

"don't you miss it?"

"shove off, dilton. i need to get home," draco said pushing away his co-worker out of his way, ready to go home and be greeted by his lovely wife, ready to smother her with kisses, ready to talk to his unborn son.

"oh come on malfoy! just this once, please?"

is he serious?

convincing a married man to cheat on his wife? his pregnant wife?

ignoring him, he continued his way to the floo network of the ministry, only to be stopped by aaron dilton's voice,

"you really have changed, what happened to the malfoy back at hogwarts? the one who wouldn't give a single fuck about the girls he slept with? you're boring, that must be how it is for married men. don't you ever get bored of your wife?"

if draco wasn't listening before he definitely was now, ears turning red at the mention of his wife spoken of so in such a vile manner,

but no. if only that wasn't the case, he wouldn't admit it but something did snap inside of him at dilton's words causing him to turn around, face him and do something that will leave him feeling nothing but regret the following day,

but that's a problem meant to be solved tomorrow.

"where were you?"

he froze, steps halting when he lifted his face to look at his wife, a furrow adorning her brow, wrapped around a midnight blue robe, furs at the end. "got caught up with work," he lied "sorry love"

"that's alright. come on up, let's sleep" something about her tone made him think she didn't believe him,

and why would she? his hair's all ruffled, shirt untucked and rumpled, but that's what happens when you're too busy stressing right? you forget about how you look, and sigh frustratedly, hands rubbing your face roughly that you look like you've just awoken from a deep slumber.

oh how he wished that was what happened, heart breaking at the thought of someone hurting her wife, mentally or physically, but what hurt more? knowing that it was him that'll hurt her,

but it doesn't matter she won't find out... right?

the next time it happens, he wasn't pushed into doing it, he wanted to prove something. he wanted them to know that he was still the same as they were in hogwarts, something about him turning soft made him frustrated, frustrated about what his fellow peers will say,

and the next time it happens, he won't be so lucky as the last, he shouldn't have even gotten away with it

skipping work with his 'friends' and going home so early to not be suspected of anything,

by the time he enters the door to their manor, he froze mid-step upon seeing his wife approaching him a cup in hand, a smile on her blemish free face.

"hi, i missed you," she breathed onto his neck, her head tucked between the area where his neck and shoulder met,

unbeknownst to him, she was trying her hardest not to let a tear slip from her eyes, smelling cheap perfume stuck on his skin, small and unnoticeable marks on his porcelain skin, you have to really squeeze your eyes to see them, for her case she doesn't have to, it's so close to her face that she had to turn her head to the other side before finally letting him go,

"i didn't know you were gonna be home so early, i haven't prepared any food yet," she spoke trying her best to keep her voice steady as possible though failing as there was a little crack at the end, which the tall man didn't even notice.

doesn't he love her anymore? how did he not notice that little squeak of her voice? isn't he supposed to know every little thing about his significant half?

"it's okay love," he kissed her head, sniffing a bit of her watermelon shampoo, heart breaking a little more,

"i'll do it. you deserve it." he smiled pecking her lips one last time before disappearing inside the kitchen, the pregnant woman left to stand outside in the cold room.

"love, dinner's ready" he called softly beside the sleeping figure, she answered with a nod, gathering to pull herself up from the couch only to be stopped by a hand coming in front of her eyesight,

she took hold of it reluctantly lifting her and her son up and away from the comfy abode she wished would swallow her up.

'i'm ready' those words were repeating in her mind as she sat silently on her side of their bed waiting patiently and nervously for her hus— draco to finish in the bathroom.

once she heard the sound of a door opening, clicking just as fast as it opened, she spoke

"how could you?" no need to act stupid, be straight and blunt.

"darling? how could i what?" taking a shower was no use, he was already starting to sweat,

"no need to act stupid, draco." was all she said before standing up from her position and packing up her belongings,

maybe it's the hormones, but she does not want to see his face again.

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to"

flashbacks happened. she was taken back to the time where they first met, the first thing he ever said to her.

anger took over her appearance but just sighed loudly not wanting to pick a fight afraid it'll cause something to their baby.

"please, darling let's talk about this. don't leave. i love you, so so much," he began as tears streamed down his face as he knelt in front of her hugging her legs to keep her from going, bags in hand.

"draco." she sighed, tired. but he wouldn't move, he can't afford to lose her, the love of his life,

"draco, please!" she shoved him away from her legs before it's too late and she forgives him.

"just- just please.. i need time." she stated before going out their bedroom,

"shit!" she exclaimed when her hand accidentally hit a vase, causing it to shatter and make a loud banging noise all throughout the empty, and lonely manor.

ironic isn't it? how her first words are also the last words she'll say to him, leaving him a broken mess,

part 2

#draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy masterlist #draco fic #draco x reader smut #drafo malfoy #draco fucking malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco x uou #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco angst #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine

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