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igotbulletproof-insomnia · 3 years

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Adopting Bangtan 09

01 previous

AN UNLIKELY WEDDING

You bit your lip as you stared at your phone. You had an email from Jimin and Taehyung’s mother. Song Jieun was your old coworker who you had adored, but who also tricked you into taking care of her children so that she could get married without worry. Your respect and opinion of her had gone down significantly with that move, but you… didn’t exactly understand, but you did appreciate that she gave her children to someone who could properly take care of them instead of leaving them to fend for themselves which had seemed to be her original plan.

What’s wrong?” Seokjin looked up from the video game he was playing, ignoring the cut scene he had watched a dozen times before now to focus on you. You could hear the younger boys playing in their bedroom, the sounds of legos clattering and mouth-made explosions louder than what their closed bedroom door could block off. They were sounds that had become familiar in the past six months, sounds that used to be made by one child and were nowhere near this boisterous.

“Nothing,” you shrugged while you scrolled through the email a second time and tried to sort out your feelings. Seokjin’s stare burned into your cheek and rolled your eyes. “I mean it, nothing is wrong. Just…” You could feel your face twisting into a dissatisfied expression and tried to relax it back into something more neutral. There were times when you found you could rely on the eldest of your children, and times when you thought it was better to keep things to yourself, and you weren’t sure which one this was.

“Someone emailed me,” you hedge. “I’m just trying to decide how I feel.”

“That’s your worried face,” said Seokjin. “You only make that face about work and about us. But you also whine when you’re worried about work, so it’s about us, isn’t it? Which one of the kids is failing school?”

“No one is failing school,” you laugh. “Namjoon could be doing better, but I’m certain he just doesn’t care as much as his teachers want him to. Neither does Yoongi…. You know, as a teacher myself, I should probably be more concerned.”

“You’re appropriately concerned,” Seokjin reassured you. “Why should you worry about things you can’t control? You’re just going to age faster.”

“You’re going to stop calling me old one day.”

“Lying isn’t healthy,”

“Says the kid who lied his way into adoption.”

“I took advantage of my situation. That’s not lying, that’s cunning.”

“I didn’t raise you like this,” you say, standing.

“No, but that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? I’m raising myself, six kids, and my guardian. I can’t tell if I’m doing a piss poor job or not.”

“Language, Kim Seokjin!”

“Dinner, seonsaengnim!” he shouted back. The problem was, you aren’t sure if he successfully distracted you from your concerns or if you successfully distracted him from you.

===

Song Jieun’s email bothered you intermittently throughout the week. It’s not like you forgot she existed. You’ve received a hefty sum into your bank account every month for taking care of the boys, enough to make you wonder exactly why her new husband didn’t want to take care of them when he would probably be spending a lot less money if they were under his own roof. So no, Song Jieun wasn’t someone you forgot existed unlike like you could the rest of your kids’ parents, she just… wasn’t relevant. So it bothered you that she was trying to make herself relevant now, after six months of silence.

“You’re doing the thing again,” Seokjin poked your face. You startled, unaware that he had approached, but thankfully kept your coffee mug full. “What are you so worried about?”

“Nothing,” you say for the umpteenth time that week. “I’m not worried about anything.”

“You’ve been ‘not-worried’ since last Thursday,” Seokjin argued.

“So then why do you keep asking me what’s wrong?” You didn’t have to turn to see the weighted stare he gave you, you could feel it. That was the thing about your kids, all of them. They had a way of making you feel like you were the one in trouble, you were the one being raised instead of the other way around. Some days you were convinced that they were the ones keeping you around, explicitly for financial reasons.

“If you’re just going to insist on being stubborn,” Seokjin sighed. He poured two cups of coffee, one for himself and one for Yoongi, and turned the kettle on for Namjoon. The other boys would be zombie-walking their way into the kitchen for breakfast soon, so you and Seokjin set to work preparing leftovers from dinner a few nights ago.

“Song Jieun wants to visit the boys,” after a long, silent moment, you finally admit your concern. The kettle was puffing it’s pre-whistle warning, so you turned it off, sitting the pot on its wicker table mat until Namjoon made his way to the table.

“Who’s Song Jieun?” asked Seokjin. “Which boy? Not me, right?”

“No, of course not you, silly. You won’t even tell me your parents’ names. How am I supposed to know when they come to visit?”

“Trust me, they won’t,” Seokjin’s tone left no room for discussion, just a sad or regretful sort of resentment.

“If you say so,” you shrugged off your curiosity, familiar with how closed-off this kid got when it came to his home life before you. “Song Jieun is Taehyung’s mom and Jimin’s stepmom.”

“The coworker who tricked you into adopting them?”

“That’s what you got out of that?”

“Isn’t that what happened?”

“That’s besides the point,”

“That is the point.”

“What’s what point?” Namjoon shuffled into the kitchen.

“Our guardian is trying to decide if the twins should see their mother.” Seokjin answered.

“That’s not what I said,”

“That’s what you were going to say.”

“Everyone else gets nice, obedient, adoring children,” you grumbled. “I get sassy monsters who boss me around.”

“You raised us like this,” Namjoon said absently.

“I did not, you raised yourselves.”

“Same thing,” both boys speak in unison.

“I’m giving you two away.”

“Good luck living with Yoongi without us,” Seokjin shrugged. “You’ll be begging me to come back by the end of the week.”

“Joke’s on you, this is the end of the week.”

“My point still stands.”

“Okay, I quit, I won’t win this one,” you literally throw your hands in the air.”

“Good,” Jin grins at you in that cheeky way he’s mastered, taunting you.

“So what’s this about the twin’s mom though?” asked Namjoon. “I thought she…” he trailed off, but you understood what he was saying, or rather, what he didn’t want to say. I thought she didn’t want them.

“Yes and no,” you say. “She just… it’s… not exactly complicated, not if I were in her position, but… let’s just say, some people are stupid and not everyone has the same priorities.”

“Song Jieun chose to make herself happy over taking care of her kids?” Seokjin translated. “She didn’t want to take them to live with her new husband?”

“More or less,” You agree, taking note of the bitterness in his tone.

“You’re not allowed to get married,” Namjoon mumbled from the table.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not allowed to leave us or get rid of us because you want to be married,” Namjoon repeated. He’s obviously still half asleep from the way he lays his head down in his arms, but your heart clenches just a little bit from the casual desperation he speaks with.

“If I were to get married,” you said, “my future spouse would know that they come in eighth place anyway. I’m not getting rid of you, even your original parents would have to fight me. God will have to fight me.”

“But you’re still not allowed,” said Namjoon.

“Drink your tea, you’re talking crazy,” said Seokjin. “Our guardian will have to actually date first, and we all know that won’t happen.”

“The disrespect, I tell you!”

It’s after breakfast and during the chaos of getting seven young boys dressed and prepared for school when Seokjin knocks on your bedroom door frame, wearing an anxious expression.

“... Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“What’s up?” you asked. Seokjin walked fully into the room and closed the door.

“About… the twins? I… I don’t know what you’re thinking about, and that’s valid, but… I think you should maybe let them see her?” Seokjin didn’t fidget like the rest of the kids did. He leaned against the door, arms crossed and focused his eyes fully on you. It was moments like these when you realized exactly how mature your eldest was, and you recognized that most of it wasn’t because of you. Namjoon and Yoongi were you. Seokjin had probably been raising himself for longer than he’s lived with you.

“Okay,” you said.

“I just… if it was me, I would want to know that she still cared, right? And she does, I guess. You mentioned that she sends them money, and she wrote you a letter asking forgiveness, so that has to mean something. I just don’t want them feeling abandoned like the rest of us. Not if they don’t have to.”

“I’m just worried that it will confuse them even more,” you admitted. “It took weeks before Jimin would talk to us openly. Jieun-ssi isn’t going to stay. She’ll come for an afternoon or a day, take the kids out, spoil them, and then bring them back here, and they’ll both be wondering why. And I don’t know how to answer that question.”

“With the truth, obviously,” Seokjin rolled his eyes. “You’re always straight-forward with us. Why should this be any different?” Because they’re younger than you were. Because they were given away, not abandoned. Because their parent still cares from a distance. Because I don’t like making you all cry. Because picking up pieces has never been fun.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you said instead. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay,” Seokjin nodded, and you can see him visibly deflate, relieved to be finished with the conversation. “That’s all I wanted to say. Don’t forget to take your lunch with you.”

“Make sure all the kids have theirs,” you countered.

“It’s funny because you thought I didn’t already do that,”

“I love you, Kim Seokjin,” was your response.

“I love you too, I guess.”

=======

Your talk with Seokjin gave you a new perspective, but you still felt apprehensive about everything. You just didn’t like the idea of hurting Jimin and Taehyung any more than they already have been. What type of guardian would you be if you just let them walk back into heartbreak? What if this was just a one-time visit and Song Jieun never came to see her children again? What do you do when the boys ask to see her again? You had been lucky that you only had to have one conversation about not being able to take the boys to see their mother in the last six months, but if Jieun could make the time and the trip to come visit, then what will be your excuse now? What if this visit was actually a prelude to taking the boys back home with her?

Oh.

Huh.

So that was the real problem then. You didn’t want the boys to leave you. As much as you groaned and complained about taking in so many kids -- usually just to yourself, but sometimes your stress got the better of you in front of the kids -- you loved them. Each one of them, you loved and adored them and the thought of any of them leaving you or being taken away hurt. Not only that, but where in the hell would any of those parents get off, what right did any of them have to come to you and even fix their mouths to ask you for “their” kid back? You had words prepared for each and every so-called “parent” of all seven of your boys, copies of your lost child police reports, drafts of parental rights transfer papers, the phone number for several NCPA lawyers, and a fist just itching to make contact.

But what if Taehyung and Jimin preferred to be with Jieun anyway? She is their mother. She raised them for years, even if she was Jimin’s stepmother. You’ve only had the “twins” as you and the older boys had taken to calling them, for six months. Why would they want to stay with you?

“Okay, but she didn’t say she wants to take the kids,” you told yourself against the slew of depressing thoughts. You retrieved your phone from your pocket and opened your emails. Finally pressed reply. “She just wants to visit. A visit is… safe. It’ll be okay.”

Probably.

=======

Later that day you received a new email. Song Jieun will be in town that weekend. Tomorrow.

It took a lot of effort for you not to swear and make plans to take the kids out of town.

=======

Song Jieun was pretty. She wasn’t particularly tall or “skinny” like what TV liked to portray, but she was hippy and had a cute face and short hair that she curled most days. She favored dresses with blazers or oversized sweaters and skinny jeans, with pale makeup and dark pink lipsticks. It was easy to pick her out at the cafe she asked to meet at. She sat alone off to the side, a coffee already in front of her, but two plates with fruit-decorated cakes were also placed nearby. You considered telling her that the boys weren’t allowed any sweets right now. It wouldn’t have been a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. They weren’t allowed sweet things like cakes until after dinner and only when they behaved well. Still, you decided that was just your frustration and jealousy talking. You didn’t want to punish the two boys because of their mother, so you bite your tongue and hold your bitterness and let it go.

“Jieun-ssi,” you greet uselessly, as the moment Taehyung and JImin saw her they sprinted across the room to tackle the woman in hugs. Jieun’s smile stretched across her face and she cooed and made cute noises as she greeted her sons in return. You felt something creep in your chest that felt a lot like jealousy. But you weren’t jealous. You couldn’t be. You just hugged them this morning when they tried to tickle you awake. You held both of their hands from your house to the cafe. You had nothing to be jealous of, they were your kids now.

“How have you been?” Jieun asked when you sat down across from her. Jimin and Taehyung were already seated and digging into the cakes she bought for them. You barely had a chance to answer before your chatterbox was rattling off every activity he’s done for the last six months to his mother. Jimin grinned and threw in his two-cent’s worth every few minutes, but generally let Taehyung carry the conversation for him. And you, in spite of all of the emotions pressing on your chest and clouding your judgement and making you really, really want to shake Song Jieun, you enjoy yourself. You watch your boys -- your boys -- smile and chatter and sing and show off for their mother. You wonder if they’ll be okay going home, if you’ll have tears to clean up later, or arguments to break up, or just pieces to sort out and glue, but right now the kids are happy, and right now, that’s what you’ll enjoy.

=======

Taehyung climbed into your bed that night. He should have been asleep an hour ago at least, you’re sure, but he’s seemed to have a lot on his mind since this afternoon, and you’ve been letting the kid have his own space to figure out his thoughts. As hyper as he normally is, Taehyung is also prone to moments where he just sits and fiddles and thinks and you’ve learned that it doesn’t do any good to bother him about it.

“Can’t sleep?” Taehyung shook his head as he slid across the blankets to bury his face into your shirt. You curled an arm around his shoulders and held him close.

“Mommy…” Taehyung started and trailed off. “Is Mommy happy without me?”

It felt like your heart stopped with the words of his question, but you continued to brush his hair with your fingers. It was a difficult question to answer. You wanted to be honest, but you also didn’t want to hurt him. Unfortunately, there weren’t too many ways to answer without hurting Taehyung one way or another.

“What do you mean?” Taehyung was quiet for another short moment before he spoke again.

“Mommy… didn’t seem sad. And she said she’ll see us another time. And… she got married, but she didn’t want to keep me and Jiminie… So I started wondering… is she happy now? Happier than she was before when it was just me and her and Jiminie? Did we -- I don’t think -- I --” And the kid seemed to break then, all of the tears that hadn’t been shed for six months seeming to finally culminate into an emotional outburst. You shushed him, holding him just a little more tightly, and the fingers in his hair moved down to stroke his back. This was the thing you had wanted to avoid, and while part of you felt satisfied to be right, most of you just fought your own tears. It hurt to see one of your kids so hurt. You aren’t a stranger to crying children, but this emotional distress was something that never got better. You thought that maybe Jieun had talked to the boys beforehand, maybe Taehyung had dealt with his emotions before he came to live with you and that was why he seemed so well-adjusted. Clearly, Taehyung had just been living in denial, or maybe with the belief that his mother would come back for him “later,” that you were only a temporary home.

“This isn’t your fault, Taetae,” you murmured. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Sometimes… sometimes adults make hard decisions. We think we’re doing the right thing and… sometimes it’s hard to see if we’ve made the right choice or not.” You sighed, picking through your words super carefully. “I think… I think that your mother made what she thought was the best decision for both herself and for you and Jimin. She believed she would be happy with her new husband. But she did not believe you and Jiminie would be happy. So she put you somewhere that you could be. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, but I’m still sad,” Taehyung cried harder.

“I know,” you said, “and that’s okay. I would be sad too.”

“I just want my mommy back,”

“I know.”

“I don’t want you to get married,” Taehyung said suddenly, long after his sobs had calmed down. Tears still fell, but slowly now. “I don’t want you to send me away too.”

“If you listen to your Jinnie-hyung, he says that won’t happen because I don’t date anyway.”

“Mommy didn’t date for a long time… and then she did. And then she got married.”

“I won’t get rid of you even if I did get married, Taetae,” you told him.

“You’re still not allowed to get married,” he argued. “Or date. You have to be mine forever and ever, okay?”

“No matter what, I will be yours forever and ever,” you agreed.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” Taehyung asked. “I'm comfy and you make me not sad.”

“Of course,” you said. “You’re comfy like a teddy bear, I don’t want you to go.”

=======

In the morning, Taehyung was bouncing off the walls, screaming as he chased Jungkook around the house. Jimin was curled into a corner of the sofa, giggling while he watched his brothers play and encouraging Taehyung in his antics. You could hardly tell that Taehyung had an emotional breakdown the previous night. You knew he was far from being “over” his feelings about his mother, he was only eight and the feelings were complicated. But he was happy for now and that made you happy. You’ll deal with the noise and the chaos and shout at the kids yet again about running inside where things were breakable including themselves as long as they kept smiling.

Surprisingly, it was Namjoon who came knocking at your door after bedtime that night. Similar to Taehyung, he didn’t speak or ask permission, just closed the door behind him and slid into your bed. Buried himself beneath the blankets and stuck his head beneath the pillow and tucked his gangly limbs into a ball. You were familiar with these moods, but haven’t seen one in years, not since you took in Seokjin. So you finished the chapter you had been reading, turned off the light, and sank down to lay your head on your pillows. Similar to Taehyung, Namjoon would speak when he was ready, when he found the right words to use to express his feelings.

“You really won’t get married, right?” Namjoon whispered beneath the pillow next to you. His voice was heavily muffled, but you’d been waiting for him to speak for some time. You just didn’t expect for him to continue a joke conversation from several days ago.

“What’s wrong with me getting married?” you asked.

“If you get married, you’ll have to get rid of us.”

“There is no world where I will give up any of you just to get married, Namjoon.”

“But that’s what happens, isn’t it?” said Namjoon. “Adults… if they aren’t married, but they have kids… they get rid of them so that they can date. Because kids get in the way. Because it’s stupid to take care of other people’s kids.”

“Why does it sound like you just called me stupid?” Your sarcasm probably wasn’t appropriate for the moment, but the words slipped before you thought about it.

“We’re really lucky to have you, we know that,” said Namjoon. “But that just means --”

“Namjoon, I’m going to stop you right there,” you cut him off before he finishes. You remove the pillow from his face so that he can hear you clearly, and card your fingers through his hair. “I didn’t create any of you. I didn’t ask for any of you. But I have you. And I love you. I adore you. I will tear apart skies, drain oceans, and vanquish God if it will keep you all safe and happy, okay? If your parents ever come back for you, I will press charges against them and make it so that they can never look at you, let alone hurt you ever again, do you understand me, Kim Namjoon? You and Yoongi and Jungkook and Seokjin and Hoseok and Taehyung and Jimin, you’re all mine. You’re my kids, all seven of you, and I will be damned if any lover or spouse, or anything at all, comes between me and you. I don’t say that because it sounds good -- although seriously, you have to admit that this is one of my better speeches,” -- at that, Namjoon giggled, the noise muted and soft, but a win was a win -- “but I say these things because I mean them. I will put a brick in the hospital for you, Joonie.” You hesitate, but continue anyway. “If it weren’t for you, I may have left the country at the end of that year. Teaching is fun, but I wasn’t super happy before. But then you asked me to take you home and you were so cute that I got attached almost immediately. I didn’t want to take you to the police and have them send you to your parents. I liked having someone to come home to. I liked taking care of you. Most people go get a pet or a lover when they’re feeling lonely, but here’s me, collecting kids like you’re pokemon cards.”

“No one collects pokemon cards anymore,”

“What, is Yu-Gi-Oh back in style?”

“What even is that?”

“The coolest card game ever. Period.” Namjoon laughs again, and you feel accomplished.

“It’s not that cool if I’ve never heard of it,” Namjoon argues.

“Joonie. I love you. But even I know you aren’t the coolest among your classmates.”

“I’m the coolest out of all my friends!”

“I won’t argue about that. I’m also sure that in your group of friends, ‘coolest’ means ‘knows the biggest words and has the best grades.’”

“You’re just jealous,”

“Absolutely. I wish I knew as many words as you do. Imagine how much fun I’d have fussing at you kids in Smart People language!”

“Why are you like this?”

“Please, other kids wish they had someone as cool as me taking care of them.”

Namjoon cuddled closer to you in the bed, laying his head on your shoulder and gripping your pajama shirt. You spend a few minutes massaging his scalp, a soothing gesture for you just as much as it is for him. After a few minutes, you begin drifting off, believing Namjoon is on the verge of sleep as well.

“Are you really okay?” he asks. “With taking care of all of us? You don’t… want to go back home?”

“I am home, silly,” you flick the side of his head gently. “I love you. And even if I wanted to go back to my home country, don’t think I won’t take each one of you with me. I said you’re mine. I mean it.”

“Okay.”

And it’s not that you don’t believe him, but you know your kid. You know he internalizes things and finds convoluted ways to take blame for other peoples’ problems, including your own. You know it will be a while yet before he truly accepts and believes you when you say you want to keep him and enjoy taking care of him. But you also know that he wants to believe you and he’s trying. You idly wonder if you’ll have to have some sort of discussion in the morning, an announcement over breakfast that no children will be displaced in the event of an unlikely wedding. You dismiss the thought, deciding it was more likely to incite panic and give you a headache more than anything else.

To find more of my child-bangtan fics, select the "Collecting Strays" tag at the bottom of this page ^_^

#bts #bts fan fiction #bts scenarios #kim taehyung #bts v #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #bangtan #kid bts #bts army #cross posted on ao3 #wow I just realized #kim line #reader insert #darkbalance #collecting strays

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looney-mooney · 4 years

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DUCKTALES FINALE SPOILERS

I’ve seen arguments that this new twist reveal of Webby being Scrooge McDuck’s clone detracts from the whole “found family” message the show has. But I would like to make the argument that, if anything, this reveal enhances the message of found family. Because Webby felt so alone for so long. For ages, it was just her and her grandmother. She wanted to be a member of this family for SO LONG. Then she met the boys, and became friends with them. She finally, actually met Scrooge McDuck, and though it took a while for him to accept her as one of his own, he eventually did. He decided that this little girl is one of his kids. And he helped raise her, helped her inherit his legacy in a way that nobody else could. Sure, HLD inherited some of his traits, but none of them were ever nearly as invested in the McDuck Heritage as Webby was.

And like. If all the scroll needed to be retrieved was a direct genetic descent, then May and June would have been able to retrieve the scroll. But May and June couldn’t get the scroll, because even though they were an almost perfect genetic match to him, they still couldn’t actually BE Scrooge McDuck’s heirs. They weren’t Raised by him, they didn’t know or inherit his legacy, they weren’t really his. If anything, they were Heron’s children, having been created and raised by her. They even call her “mom.” But Webby? Webby is Scrooge McDuck’s chosen child. THAT makes all the difference. THAT is what makes Webby Scrooge McDuck’s true heir.

And, honestly? The moment that Webby called Scrooge “dad?” It felt like the moment my dad first moved in with me and mom. It felt like the moment my mom and dad got married. It felt like the moment I realized I finally had a whole family, with two new grandparents and an aunt and a whole bunch of new cousins who were already some of my closest friends. It felt like she had received the exact same sort of validation that I got when I finally, officially, had a dad of my own, when my family (who I already loved with all my heart) officially became MY FAMILY. And in that moment, I saw my six-year-old self in Webby. Her validation might have come from a bizzare clone reveal instead of a wedding, but it doesn’t make it any less real. And it feels so validating to be SEEN. To SEE that same excitement, that same joy and validation, that same found family made official in one of my favorite shows - and to have it be a core plot point in the finale.

I always saw a bit of myself in Webby - specifically, that feeling of in-between that I had when my mom and dad first started dating, when he first started giving me advice and taking me on “adventures” of our own and being someone I could proudly CALL my dad. It reminded me of when me and my dad (before he married my mom and made it official) taught me how to play Dungeons and Dragons, or when he took me to his parent’s (my grandparent’s) house, or when me and my future cousins would play in their basement. I only realize now, with this reveal, how much this show felt like my life as a very young child. I don’t know, maybe I’m looking too much into it, but I just can’t help thinking of this as a reflection of my own story. I can’t help but love this finale, with all my heart and soul.

#ducktales 2017 spoilers #ducktales 2017 #ducktales spoilers #ducktales #looney mooney rants #personal #ok to reblog #long post

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samwrights · 4 years

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Team Karasuno as dads [hc]

For a married woman that doesn’t want kids, I sure do fantasize about my boys being dads a lot.

Asahi;

He definitely cried when he found out you were pregnant.

When your daughter was born, he couldn’t even be in the room because he was so overwhelmed with you being in pain and the fact he was about to bE A DAD

He doesn’t even remember how you started dating because he was so blown away by your beauty or so he claims but the fact that y’all were married?? And having a kid?? When did he get so bold??

Eventually he got over it cause he felt bad that he wasn’t in the room holding your hand while you literally pushed a whole ass human out ya cooch.

He fainted

The first time he held his daughter was the first time he had felt complete, more complete than when he rejoined the volleyball team in his third year. It felt amazingly right. He tries to deny the fact and say your wedding was just as wholesome but you can tell. Fatherhood is something entirely different for him

“She takes after momma’s beauty.” A simp through and through.

Asahi is a parental HOG. Which is kinda nice cause he loves doting on your child but also HI I AM MOM AND WOULD LIKE TO HOLD MY BABY???

He tells YOU how to hold her and feed her and little ticks about her personality like you aren’t on maternity leave and are with the baby ALL DAY (although he is REALLY pushing for you to just be a stay-at-home mom)

Because he is soooo doting, it’s very rare that you wake in the middle of the night to feed or change her—Asahi is ALL over it. But he is human and there are days he’s too tired to wake up from dead sleep. It’s ok, he’s your human. Daddy deserves rest too.

Asahi would totally be a co-sleeper, or at least nap with the baby as much as he possibly could.

Definitely bought her multiple onesies that say “daddy’s little princess”.

She gonna be a spoiled brat when she’s older 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

Daichi Dadchi;

I mean he’s a literal running joke in the fandom

After being elected as the unofficial dad of the VBC in his high school days, it was no wonder that he was such a natural with your three munchkins.

Having three slightly older boys of varying ages, you relied heavily on Daichi to get through to them when you couldn’t.

He’s definitely the strict parent; your sons all try to take advantage of you 💀 demons

Your boys saw you as a pushover most of the time because you were just so tired.

“Just keep trying for a girl, they said. There’s a 50/50 chance, they said.” Was something Daichi would find you chanting to yourself often while you cooked dinner and the boys were playing soccer in the house and breaking something.

Even though Daichi is strict, he really tries to emphasize to the boys to treat you with kindness to make it a bit easier on you.

“Guys, please don’t make your mother rip her hair out.”

“We’re just playin’!” They would sing in flawed harmony

“One day, you guys are going to be all grown up with your own special person with your own kids, and you’re gonna love them so much that you’ll understand why I’m telling you to calm down and listen to your mom.” Asjdfkhlek.

“Ewwww, daddy loves mommy.”

“I sure do.”

Sugawara;

On god, Suga would be the most patient parent. He treats your toddlers like mini adults and not your insane nine year old girl or six year old boy.

He listens thoroughly when they are upset about something, cautiously listening to the deeper truths about why they’re upset and takes great care in making sure his children feel validated.

Super dad 🥰

But it’s not a random event; after being married to you for the last decade, he had so much practice with conflict resolution and genuinely listening to you that it was a natural tendency at this point.

For the most part, your children are incredibly well behaved. Sure, there’s an occasional incident because, well they’re kids. Your daughter, being the older of the two and nearly finished with primary school, was entering her phase of discovering boys and constantly writing in her diary.

Suga may be super dad, but he is not perfect, and for some reason I totally see him reading her diary.

“Koushi, put it back. Now.” He was just going to pretend that you using your mom voice on him didn’t turn him on and prepare him to fill you with another baby.

While he may be an expert on conflict resolution, you enforced respecting their privacy; quite a dynamic between the two of you in terms of validating your children as individuals.

“But honey, our daughter is starting to like boys.”

“At least one of the females in this house does.” 💀💀💀 with angels for children, someone had to be the clown of the Sugawara family and it was certainly you.

Tanaka;

You and Tanaka had your first baby in your guys’ third year of high school, which you would be lying if you said it wasn’t hell.

Tanaka fought tooth and nail to try to do everything from makin dinner, working, making sure you were getting rest, and of course still playing volleyball. Everything except actually trying to graduate.

“I don’t have time to study babe, I have practice and then we gotta put this squirt to bed.”

There was a constant argument about Tanaka continuing with volleyball that nearly forced you two to split. While you knew how important it was to him, there was no way he was going to graduate from Karasuno while he was trying to care for you, a child, work, and play volleyball.

“Ryuu, please. I know you don’t wanna quit but if you can’t pass your classes, you won’t be able to participate anyway.” He did not take well to that.

It took him time to come to his senses and in that time, you had kept you and your son away from him to allow him his space.

Apparently that was also a wrong move on your part.

He was so angry and frustrated being away from his mini me that he had easily conceded to retiring from volleyball if it meant being able to watch his little nugget learn how to sit up and crawl.

Yes, he goes HAM on the nicknames. Squirt, nugget, mini me, beanie baby, tyke, and all of the above. He pretty much calls your son everything but his actual name.

“I’m sorry for being stubborn.” He says one night while you help him study for his finals, your sleeping son swaddled in your arms.

“I’m sorry for making you give up something you love.”

“Nah, I got you and the munchkin. That’s all I need.”

Noya;

I love Noya 🥺 but at first, he is a chaotic parent. Granted y’all had your first child when you were still in college and he hadn’t the faintest clue on how to be a dad.

To be perfectly honest, you weren’t quite sure how to parent either.

Neither of you knew how to change diapers

Noya definitely got peed on more times than he wishes to admit

When your son was still a newborn, just around finals time, neither of you could figure out for the life of you why your baby was crying in the middle of the night. Which inherently made you cry because you had an 8am final and you had finished studying 5 hours prior 🙃

“Try to get some sleep, babe. I’ll take care of him.” Nishinoya’s voice was thick with exhaustion, but he knew how little you’d been sleeping since giving birth.

When you went to leave for your final, Noya was asleep in your living room rocking chair, baby safely in his arms with the both of them just snoozing away.

It was a struggle but the two of you faced the challenge together, one step at a time with your energetic four-year-old son as you graduated university. By the time you had all settled into a larger apartment together as a family, Noya had yet to pop the question. He was too busy having fun with his little man.

Sometimes it scared you how in sync he was with his child probably because he was still a child himself but it was sweet and endearing.

“Hey babe?” He asks softly after the two of you tucked away your boy for the evening. You raised in eyebrow at him, silently goading for him to continue. “Do you want to have another?” Needless to say, he sure as shit impregnated you that night asjckglpwm

Hinata;

With Hinata being an older brother, I actually see him being a wonderful dad. However, homie’s got a one-track mind and with him playing professionally, you’re usually left to do the parenting.

Your kids definitely like you more than Shoyo, not that anyone blamed anyone; they just never see daddy :(

BUT when he is in dad mode and home, you suddenly remember why you were eager as shit to have more kids with him 🥴 which explains ya you’ve got your third on the way

When he does come home, he automatically greets his older, 8 year old son with noogies and a brief wrestling session. For some reason, Hinata felt the need to compete with his own child 💀

Headass.

But when he sees his daughter, his world stops because he has favorites and EVERYONE in the Hinata house knows it

Always asking your 6 year old girl how her day was, asking how she was doing ruling over her imaginary kingdom and if she found her Prince Charming yet.

“Pffft I don’t need Prince Charming, daddy, he’s icky!!! Mommy says I don’t need a man!”

Where is the lie

“Your mom is absolutely right and you should totally listen to her, she’s the best queen in the whole world.”

Because of his one-track mind, he is engaged fully with your kids when he is actually home. Your son had naturally gotten into volleyball which, even after a long day’s practice, Shoyo spends hours training him.

“Do you think this one’s finally gonna like me more than you?” He asks one night while he’s doing the dishes after dinner, while you’re right beside him drying them off.

“Sho, our kids love you. But mom is home with them allllll day and has been since birth.”

“Can we keep trying until one of them finally likes me more?” 💀💀💀 “or until we have enough to make our own volleyball team?”

Kageyama;

How this socially inept clown got ANYONE pregnant was unthinkable. Of course, to anyone but you. After being with him all throughout high school, it was more of a wonder how you didn’t get pregnant sooner

This dude dirty. His one track mind, if not on volleyball, was entirely on you. Nearly every night was date night which ALWAYS ended with bow chicka wow wow 😏 you horny mfers yalll moved in together as soon as you graduated from Karasuno.

Clothing at home was nonexistent.

With the two of you in your second year of college, living in your apartment, and being 8 months pregnant, the air had dramatically shifted.

Kageyama’s once still high sex drive had been channeled into school work, working, and of course, volleyball. You were planning on at least completing your semester before taking time off to care for the baby. It seemed one of you would have to really step up, and from what it seems, it wasn’t going to be Tobio.

When he was home, which was very few and far between with how much he had going on, he had tried to dote on you as much as he could physically muster. Kisses here and there, bathing together, and lots of snuggles.

Kageyama is in charge of the nursery and there’s no room for argument on this. With him not being as present at home, he sets up the nursery as a way to communicate with his child that he’s never going to see because of volleyball

I love Kags, but he is nowhere near ready to even think about parenting 💀 which you tried to be patient with, but with the due date approaching very rapidly, you kinda needed him to step it up.

“I’ve helped.” He tries using the nursery as an argument and he had gone to every doctors appointment but homeboy still doesn’t know how to make a bottle or change a diaper

Was he prepared to have to clean up baby shit and vomit? Absolutely not. Was he going to anyway? Lmao, absolutely not. This boy only wants to be daddy, not dad.

Tsukishima;

It shook everyone and their mother when people found out that Kei not only had a girlfriend that he met in college, but that his girlfriend was a milf according to Kuroo and Bokuto

When you and Kei had first started dating, your daughter was already five. And while you obviously didn’t bring her to classes with you, she was always with the two of you for date nights. Oddly enough, he really didn’t mind.

His patience for kids, now that’s he’s older and kids are actually kids and NOT his peers, rivals that of Sugawara’s.

“Hey Tsukki,” your spawn asks at dinner one day. “When are you and mommy gonna get married? People keep making fun of me cause I call my parents mommy and Tsukki.”

“Making fun of people isn’t cool, it’s so lame. They’re just jealous cause they don’t get to call their parents mommy and Tsukki.”

👁—

That same night, Kei offers to read your daughter to sleep as if to reinforce the notion that mommy and Tsukki was cooler than mommy and daddy. Of course, he was pushing for this to hide that he was upset that children were making fun of her.

After that Tsukishima really gets into his dad role—walking your daughter to school with you or without you everyday, picking her up and giving her grandiose hugs. He made sure to lock eyes with every spectator, his height towering over many at the kindergarten. Silently telling them all “do not fuck with her, or you answer to me.”

He’s sosososo protective, I can’t. He ain’t scared to fight a toddler.

Even well after you and Tsukishima introduce a child of your own, your daughter still insists on calling him Tsukki and adamantly tries to teach her sister to say Tsukki instead of dada.

“You’re okay with the kids not calling you ‘Daddy’, Kei?”

“The only one I want calling me daddy is you.”

Yamaguchi;

This poor bean 💀 not only was he not prepared for fatherhood in the slightest, but twins?!

You both swore up and down they were evil. If one was hungry, the other one would refuse to eat until the other finished their meal. This applied to using their diapers as well.

Imagine the energy of Hinata and Nishinoya as baby twin boys, and lo and behold, yours and Tadashi’s kids.

While you had slightly more patience with them, knowing they were going to grow up eventually and become their own independent humans. Tadashi was not handling this well at all.

Low key, he felt like he was doing a horrible job as a parent and, after the boys had finally gone to sleep for the night, you’d spent a lot of time consoling Tadashi.

“Why can’t I be like—“

“Baby, you’ve got to stop comparing yourself to all of your friends. None of them have twin boys that are less than a year old.”

“Yeah but Hinata has three of them, so does Daichi—“

“Honey, you aren’t them. You’re you, so please, just be you.”

He’s ambitious when it comes to parenting—he wants to be the best dad ever, and he only gets better with practice.

That doesn’t make him wanna tear out his hair any less, but as the boys get older, it does get easier. We pretend their toddler years didn’t exist, it was a nightmare that Tadashi does NOT want to relive

1K notes · View notes

khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Note

OK MY ELECTRICITY WENT BUT IM HERE WITH MY LIVE BLOG. Im also wearing a tiara i found during cleaning at 2 38 am...

LXI'S STILL HAVING THOSE DREAMS

You see, that’s how Lexi functioned. Unlike Selena who had a weekly planner with her name doodled on it, Lexi didn’t like having a schedule. She would decide what she wanted to do when she wanted it.

SAME LEXI SAME

IM SORRY IF THIS IS MSOTLY IN CAPS IM TOO EXCITED

lexi

lexi why are you in pain

what what what

whats happening

im freaking out

GEORGIA

There were six of them. Each handle in one colour of the pride flag.

gimme

THE ACADEMY

NO NO NO

these demons can talk as well.

that's what bothers me the most

CLARY STFU YOU KNOW DAMN WELL YOU FOUGHT A WAR AT 15. I know she's worried for valid reasons but im losing it right now.

calm its ok its gonna be ok

georgia collecting the ichor-

i love her so much

Lexi didn’t think it was possible, but the sight somehow made her gayer than before.

me every time i look at amy or rosa from b99

OLIVIA

“Of course you are not dying!” Lexi said severely. “Neither one of us is allowed to die before we finish binging Game of Thrones.”

with the major character death tag right there

dont make me think of georgia getting sick

dont

The bar was extremely low for shadowhunters.

yes it is

OH MULTIPLE POVS

RAFAEL

did i just sob "my child" ?

maybe i did

im so proud of him

LEAVE ME ALONE

wait but in tid sophie was over the age of ascention too

WAIT HOW OLD WAS SOPHIE AT THE AGE OF ASCENTION

WAIT OMG SOPHIE WAS YOUNG

I FORGOT ABOUT THAT

“Life is too short for bad blood,”

yeah. yeah it is

i still really like camilla

He could go to Mexico right now. His heart wanted to do it. His body screamed at him to do it.

It wasn’t the distance that was the problem. He had two warlocks at home. He had a bike. He had money to buy a plane ticket.

It wasn’t the distance at all. Rafael would walk to Mexico for her if necessary.

i screamed so loud here i was grateful for the closed door

CHAIRMAN MEOW

CYUKGUCDGYMDYUD

THE PRECIOUS CAT

WHAT IF THE MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH IS ABOUT CHAIRMAN???

“Y’all really be acting as if portals are like a bag of Cheetos!” Max pointed out seriously. “It ain’t $2.50, bro! Do you have any idea the energy it takes to make a portal? What people actually pay for it? I can’t be making portals for free. I don’t get a salary from the Clave like you do. This is how I make a living!”

SO TRUE

“I was going to say you should go stay at the institute with David,” Rafael said. “But you are right. You are not a baby. You can stay here on your-”

“On second thoughts,” Max interrupted with a grin. “I’m still a fetus in warlock years so I will go the institute.”

THEY ARE SO PRECIOUS

AHHH HE CALLED HER PRETTY THE FIRST TIME HE SAW HER

THEY WERE 7

IM SCREAMING SO MUCH RIGHT NOW

my throat hurts

JAIME MY BABY

Y'ALL I MISSED HIM SO MUCH

“All thanks to the amazing Isabelle Lightwood,” Jaime replied. “I think I am a little in love with her.”

“Who isn’t?” Rafael chuckled.

we all are in love with isabelle lightwood

no no no

where's anjali

where is she

dont fuck with me right now

why does diego look like a mess

“Diego,” the woman rasped. “She is coughing up blood again.”

dont

it's chapter 1

stop making me cry

THE LIGHTWOOD SIBLINGS

YUSDFGYUSDFSDGYUD

if anyone gives izzy shit for this i'll kill them

JACE STOP GOING SO FAST

“Jace, if you want to a baby so much then grow your own damn uterus,” Isabelle snapped.

TELL HIM

THIS GOES OUT TO THE WHOLE MALE POPULATION

After Georgia’s birth, they had promised each other that they would always choose the children first. If it ever came to a point, as it often did in their lives, where they had to choose between themselves and the children – they had promised each other to save the children.

dude theres a major character death here

Jace thought for a moment and then grinned at her. “No uterus. No opinion.”

“Selena has trained you well,”

selena my smart feminist child

I JUST KNOW ONE OF THE LIGHTWOOD-BANES IS DYING

AND IM NOT OK

“Do you really need those?” Alec asked, pointing at the glasses.

“No,” Jace replied. “But Clary thinks I look hot with glasses.”

“You two are ridiculous,” Alec shook his head.

Jace turned around. “Really? And your beard is for character building, is it?”

there's no use lying alec we all know why it's really there

I KNOW WHAT LEUKEMIA IS SHUT THE FUCK UP IM LOSING MY SHIT

she cant die

IF SHE DIES I WILL RAISE HELL

my throat hurts from all the shouting

“Can I get a cinnamon latte with extra cream and two sugars please?” Alec asked.

Jace raised an eyebrow.

“Magnus had a long day at the Spiral Labyrinth,” Alec explained.

“Can’t he just magic his drink?”

“Well, yes,” Alec replied. “But I like buying it for him. It’s called being a good husband.”

aww that's so sweet

THIS IS HILARIOUS

“I’m saying no one can do better than David,” Jace huffed. “He is precious.”

tru

“If you are going to be this way, things are going to be very awkward at their wedding,” Jace muttered.

“They are not getting married, Jace!”

“Do you not want them to???”

“They are nineteen!!”

“Doesn’t mean we are not allowed to think about it,” Jace pointed out. “If they get married, we will be family!”

“We are already family!” Alec all but yelled.

“Yeah, but we will be even closer!” Jace sighed happily.

“You are my parabatai!” Alec said incredulously. “My soul is literally tied to yours! How closer do you want to get?”

THIS IS AMAZING

OH MY GOD I LOVE

JACE BEING OVER PROTECTIVE OVER SELENA DATING SOMEONE IM LOSING MY SHIT

wait how old is michael

"Oh my god,” Jace gasped. “Three out of three! I win!”

“It’s not a competition, Jace!” Alec rolled his eyes.

“It is and I won,” Jace grinned. “You’re welcome, LGBTQ+ community.”

YUP JACE WON

“Can we talk about something else?” Izzy demanded. “We are not those parents who only ever talk about their children.”

Alec cleared his throat. “Right. Of course.”

“Yeah, we have lives of our own,” Jace nodded seriously.

They drove quietly for a while before they started discussing about their children’s love lives again right up until Jace pulled over at Jade Wolf.

of course...

Lily’s face was pale – paler than usual.

lily what's wrong

please lily

anjali...

lily is close to her

of course

“Then we burn all the angels,” Lily growled.

YES YES YES YES

Jace walked in that moment, sipping from his latte. “I bought donuts, y’all!”

A chuckle escaped Magnus. “Jonathan. Your timing is impeccable.”

"Is everything okay?” Jace asked, looking troubled.

“No,” Maia replied. “But at least we have donuts.”

at least they have donuts

“I love you,” he mouthed, and Alec’s heart was okay for a moment.

THE FEELS

ISABELLE

NO NO NO

IZZY

PLEASE

WHY IS EVERY POV ENDING LIKE THIS

They had put on their clothes

AHEM SIR-

they grow up so fast...

im crying

dont please

izzy

she was poisoned

oh my god

WHO

GIVE ME NAMES RIGHT NOW

Rafael drank like a dozen a day.

understandable have a good day

OH MY GOD STOP JOKING AS A COPING MECHANISM

Im squeezing the life out of Emma (my emotional support stuffed cat) right now

seelies

the first time i heard the source was angelic my very first incstinct was seelie. I didn't wanna share it because of how absurd it sounded. but it doesn't anymore.

charlotte was poisoned by a seelie unintentionally which cost her her child

OH MY GOD

NO THIS WASN'T IZZY'S COFFEE

MAGNUS GAVE IT TO HER

THIS WAS MAGNUS' COFFEE

SOMEONE WAS TRYING TO POISON HIM.

I'm losing my mind oh my god... I am so scared. Please Anjali and Isabelle please they cant...no i dont wanna think like that. tryna take deep breaths. ok. it's gonna be ok. maybe.

see ya friday!

Now I want to write lbaf while wearing a tiara. Hmmmm. I'll look for one online.

See you Friday! Also hope you had a good birthday!!!

And send pics of Emma!!!!!!!

#lbaf

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sunflovverharry · 4 years

Text

Allegiance - Fakedating!Harry

Finally decided to make a new tumblr for my writing as I’ve been wanting to start posting forever ago, but my former blog was marked explicit for no reason!! BUT here I am, shitting bricks that I’m actually posting my work.. Let me present to you; Fakedating!Harry

word count: 4.4k warnings: language, drinking, angst, fluff summary: harry and y/n go through the ups and downs of their slowly changing relationship pairing: harry x reader

!!!!! it’s my first time releasing anything I’ve ever written and i’m shitting my pants. this was so fun to write and I hope you enjoy it! please reblog, like or tell me what you liked about it, i’ll greatly appreciate it🥺 i have a series i’m working on atm that’ll be out soon (hopefully), along with multiple one-shots so look out for that if you enjoyed this piece (the series is fwb!harry if that’ll help you want to read it hahah). enjoy my first one-shot of fakedating!harry (might put out a part 2 to this sometime but don’t take my word for it)

It wasn’t the first family gathering I had to come with him to. Not even the tenth. No, it was probably more like the fiftieth I couldn’t say no to coming to during the last two tears. Two years of playing his loving and devoting girlfriend. His family and friends have known us as the perfect couple since he first introduced me a warm july evening two years ago. Apart from it being a fake relationship, it seems pretty fucking real to the outside world. Maybe we’re just that great actors.

July 19th 2018

Harry took a hold of my hand as we walked through the luxurious modern home in the outskirts of London. It is the first time I’ve stepped foot in this house - eager to catch every little detail as I slowly walked beside Harry. It was gorgeous and I hoped to get a tour sometime. Not that I even know if I’ll ever come back here after tonight. It might be a one-night thing for all I know, only agreeing to come with Harry because I literally could not find an excuse to save my life.

Being at a function where you know next to nobody except your supposed boyfriend is terrifying, but at the same time I had to hide my nerves in case anyone caught on.

Our family has never had any big parties or get-togethers except for weddings - which there weren’t many of. Most of my cousins decided they were off fine without a marriage certificate to validate their relationships. I supported them in their decision, but ultimately I want to marry the one I one day want to spend the rest of my life with. Not having the best relationship reputation it’ll probably be a while until a wedding where I’m the bride takes place.

The large double french doors leading out to the expansive garden were open for guests to go in and out of the house and to the garden where mostly everyone were mingling when we arrived. The engagement celebration of Harry’s sister and her fiancée was in full swing and it looked as if we were the last ones missing. That made it all the more terrifying. How on earth are we going to keep up the façade of us being in a relationship all night?

We’d talked about details on the way here deciding to go with our friends setting us up on a blind date a few months back. It isn’t far from the truth, but we were definitely not on a date. We had to accompany our best mates who were on a date, but for the most part we ignored each other only letting the talk and get to know each other. The worst thing is, it wasn’t even worth it as they literally shagged and didn’t see each other again.

As to how we’re now here together - I accidentally walked into him and spilt my tea all over his fancy suit clinging to his body. Cliché, I know. To repay him for the spill, he asked me to be his pretend girlfriend and like I said I suck at excuses so here we are about to be introduced to his whole family it seems. Way to take away the attention from the happy couple.

«Mum.» Harry’s hand slipped from mine as we closed up on the group to the left. I didn’t want to interrupt a reunion between Harry and his mum so I kept my stance a few feet behind him and waited for Harry to take the lead as he hugged his mum saying a quick hello to the rest of the people standing in the small circle.

«Y/n, mum. Mum, y/n.» Harry stepped to the side so I could take the short steps forward to greet his mother. It was the first time I was meeting a guy of any sort parents and I’m sure I was shaking as she pulled me in for a hug. It was warm and welcoming as she whispered in my ear.

«It’s so lovely to meet you finally, y/n.» I smiled at her as we parted. She kept her hands on my upper arms taking me in with her moving eyes. «Harry hasn’t told us anything or answered a single question about you, but now I can ask you myself!» She cheered as Harry groaned in the background. How was this lovely lady basically getting pulled into a trap by her 26 year old son?

The next few greetings went above and beyond my expectations. With knowing how insensitive and closed off Harry, I had imagined his family was the same - which looking back was unkind of me as his family are the complete opposite. Being here accompanied by his loved ones also showed me that maybe Harry isn’t as hard as he comes off as, he just doesn’t like to open up to the wrong people. I can tolerate and understand that, but he hasn’t exactly made an effort to get to know me, so I wouldn’t say he has a right to be heartless towards me. Not after I’ve done him a massive favor.

«How long have you been together then?» Harry had gone to talk to his future brother-in-law and sister and I was left seated with some family friends of theirs. I didn’t mind one bit spending time with other people than Harry. It was freeing not having to pretend and have his hand caressing my thigh and asking if I wanted anything from the bar. Sure, I would have reveled in it if we were anything close to friends or even lovers, but just knowing it’s him makes me want to shake him off.

«It’ll be six months on the 27th. We had our second date on his birthday actually and he didn’t even tell me! Can you believe that?» I asked incredulously. It wasn’t true, we hadn’t even met up on his birthday nevertheless been on a fucking date.

We sat in comfortable conversation for a couple minutes talking about Harry and me before he came back sliding his arm over the back of my chair. His fingertips trailed up and down my arm as he quickly got back into the conversation.

It felt oddly normal when we were conversing about day-to-day subject and talking about solely ourselves, but then I’m brought right back into the plain lie about our relationship.

July 2nd 2020

This time it wasn’t an engagement party though, it was a celebration of Marie and Jack having been married for 30 years. It’s a huge accomplishment and compared to every other gathering, I’m happy to be here. Though the fake relationship between Harry and I hasn’t been the best, we’ve certainly tried our best and his family still seem to believe it.

We’ve had our ups and downs in private, but always been on our best behavior out with his family - holding hands, laying my head on his shoulder, him kissing my temple and squeezing my waist. It didn’t happen all too often, thank god, but we’d shared the odd kiss or two at times where it deemed right to do so. I’m not sure I could bear getting a taste of his lips more than I had to. At his sister's wedding last summer when we were slow dancing somewhere in the midst of all his family and their friends we slowly leaned in - whether in the heat of the moment or because it seemed we had to i’m still not sure. Either way, it was a nice kiss shared between us when we were both drunk off of champagne and the love we felt around us.

Since, there’s been a few pecks here and there, but mostly keeping to placing our lips on the others cheek, forehead or hand. I do think Harry’s opened up, though only slightly, it still warmed my heart. We’ve had quite a few enjoyable chats whilst driving home or sitting in a corner of the garden we’ve spent most our time in at his parents home. I still don’t know where he lives, him picking me up and only going to wherever the dinner or party would be held.

We haven’t discussed how much longer we’re keeping the lie going about us, but it was starting to gnaw at me knowing we would probably part ways in not too long and never meet again. He had become a part of my life I’m not sure I want to lose. The beginning was horrible and we didn’t get along in private, but after that kiss at the wedding something turned in the both of us (I hope).

Up until recently we’ve been really fucking lucky to have avoided all questions about moving in together and a possible ring on my finger. Weeks ago when we had dinner with his parents the questions surely weren’t held away though. Babies, apartments, rings and everything of the sort were brought up. It was heavy subject for two people who barely could stand each other a year ago and by the end of the dinner I was more than ready to put an end to this extremely complicated lie. It’s turned into much more than the one party I agreed to the first time he asked me.

We had a nice chat about how we were excited to see his nieces again in the car, giggling about our memories with them these last two years. It was nice being so open and comfortable with him not having to worry about him being angry or quiet. He talked back and laughed with me and even told me a couple stories from before I was in their life. I’ll miss them and the rest of his family when we inevitably end us.

Marie greeted us just like she does every time we come by, for dinner, a party or game night I just couldn’t refuse to join in on - with a kind smile grazing her lips and the same welcoming hug she’d given me the first time we met and ever since. It was really something I was looking forward to when I knew I’d be seeing her.

«Harry, y/n! You look fabulous, did you force him to match his tie to your dress?» Marie squinted her eyes at me in a ‘I know he’d never do it if he wasn’t forced to’ look. And of course, she knew her son way better than I did and only laughed with her as I told her yes, indeed I even had to put it on him myself. Which was the truth for once.

«Hopefully we’ll be throwing you some kind of celebration sometime soon, yeah? Engagement, pregnancy?» She hinted at the subjects we tried our very best to steer away from at all times as we followed her back to the garden I was falling more and more in love with. For the most part we’d been able to laugh our way out of it.

Harry laughed as he took two glasses of champagne from a server for the both of us to sip. It would definitely clear any pregnancy rumours which I’m sure there were swirling around between his family members. This family does not like to take their time with anything, saying life is too short to fool around. I’m sure they’re concerned and suspicious of why we’re taking things slow not even living together when his sisters all got engaged or married within the two first years, but they’ll be let in on our secret soon enough I hope.

In one way I’d love for this all to be over and continue to live my life as I did before Harry - but to be honest I’m not quite sure how I’ll ever go back to that. Life with Harry sure has its pros and I would enjoy it as long as it lasted. Especially the expensive champagne they always seemed to have at every function.

A couple hours or so later the speeches were in full swing. I knew Harry wasn’t doing one as I’m sure everyone would think he’d propose to me at the end of it, so he decided to forget about it. After his sisters had said some lines each, Marie and Jack stood up at the head table right next to us. They looked as in love now as they did two years ago and it was incredible witnessing how the spark between them never seemed to die. I can only wish to have a marriage as wonderful.

«You want more to drink? Can have mine if you want.» Harry offered quietly before Jack asked everyone about how gorgeous his wife looks tonight. He truly adores her and it shows in every way he acts and speaks to her.

«Yes, please. Thank you.» I grabbed the glass of some sort of concoction from his much larger hand. Smiling up at him, I sipped the drink from the straw feeling his hand squeeze my waist to pull me closer though I’m not sure how much closer I could get unless I sat on his lap. We’d been touching each other considerably more than usual during the night. It felt good and with how friendly we’ve been lately I almost wanted more, just like how I’ve been wanting for the last couple months. More touching my thigh, more squeezing my waist, more kisses on my temple, more brushing my hair away from my face. He was addicting, inexplicably so.

Harry put his lips to my cheek as we listened to his parents speak about how their love was at an all time high, even after thirty years of marriage, four children and a couple of granddaughters to show for it. The softness to their voices as they spoke passionate, kind, loving words to each other was absolutely remarkable. It brought my deepest feelings out and I couldn’t help but shed a tear or two. I hadn’t noticed they were falling before I felt Harry’s thumb whisking them away and pulling my head to rest on his shoulder, another kiss planted on my forehead this time.

I savored the moment, the love I felt all too much for me while thinking about how this would be over far too soon for my liking. His family were growing on me. Harry was growing on me. I enjoyed his company, when he would open up without me asking or begging to know a small detail that probably didn’t matter to him as much as it did to me. He had become a huge part of my everyday life by now, texting him on days we weren’t meeting up.

I firmly remember the first day we hung out just us two. It was a Tuesday evening and we had gone out to eat - really only to grab a photo we could give to his parents who had been begging for one. This was around halloween last year, so we were on solid grounds by then.

At first it was awkward as hell, neither knowing what to say or how to start the conversation, but after we had ordered we soon got into conversation and we didn’t stop until we’d been sat there for three hours. It still baffles my mind how nice that dinner was and how I didn’t ever think ‘can this be over soon?’. Thinking back, I think that’s the exact moment I realized I might’ve grown feelings for the man.

The night had gone by in a blink of the eye, suddenly it was nearing midnight and we had just said goodbye and were making our way to his car. Sitting down and watching the house as Harry reversed out of the parking spot, I thought about what a lovely night it’s been. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed myself and this one party will forever be the reason I won’t ever regret fake dating Harry Styles. His mum made it all worth it when he didn’t.

«Would you like to come to mine for a drink before heading home? It’s still quite early for a Saturday, innit?» Harry didn’t come off as nervous or scared to ask me to join him at his place before sending me home. There was no way I could deny his request as I’d finally get to see the flat he resides in and I’ve imagined for two years.

It only took us around ten minutes to get to his flat, shocked to see that it isn’t as far from mine as I thought. He’s got enough money to live in a nicer area, but this definitely has charm to it and maybe that’s why he wants to live here.

The flat itself was victorian but with a modern upgrade. A luxurious kitchen with all the appliances one could need, a lovely island serving as his dining table that led into the living room. I wanted to jump onto the couch and lay there for eternity by only looking at how soft and comfortable it seems. The rather large L-shaped couch took up most of the room, but he’d made sure to have enough space for tall, wide bookshelves filled with anything but books behind it.

Don’t get me started on the dark wood flooring that looked as original as it could get. They brought character to the flat and blended the old victorian feel in nicely with the more modern look of the walls and kitchen. I’d love to have a place like this someday.

«You can sit down and I’ll grab a bottle of wine, sound alright?» Harry hung his suit jacket that he hadn’t worn at all on one of the chairs lined by the island counter. He moved into the corner of the kitchen where I couldn’t see him any longer as I stepped off my shoes before tiptoeing to the couch falling down into it. I was right about it being soft and comfortable. It was as if I was being lulled to sleep all I needed was a light blanket tucking me in and I’d be set for a good night's sleep.

Harry chuckled when he came out from the kitchen, a bottle of red in one hand and two glasses in the other, to see me cuddling into his couch. I don’t know what he does in his free time or if he usually has girls around his flat and this is a normal view for him, but right now I didn’t care. He was giving me wine and a comfy place to sit which honestly is enough for now. I don’t want to scare him away by talking about my feelings for him past midnight, half drunk after all the drinks I’d already had tonight.

Chatting to Harry was a breeze. We giggled before getting serious and then struggling to breath as we laughed harder than ever before. It felt light and good, like we were the best of friends and for a moment I thought I could live with that. As long as I got to continue having moments like these with him, I could deal with only being friends. Then I had another glass of wine and decided that I couldn’t bear him not knowing how I feel for one more second.

«Harry.. we can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to the people involved, and it’s absolutely not fair to us.» My eyes were watching my finger trailing the pattern of one of his pillows I was holding in my lap. There was no foreshadowing to tell Harry that I would bring this up and I could tell he wasn’t ready for it by the sharp intake of breath that could be heard from him.

«I’ve thought about it recently and obviously we both knew this couldn’t last forever. I’ve grown a lot the past two years and I know what I want now. A fake relationship isn’t it, no matter how much I adore your family.» I could feel my throat burning as I tried to keep my tears at bay. The last thing I wanted to sit in front of him crying my eyes out. Still not daring to let my eyes reach his, I closed my eyes as I continued talking.

«The first year was awful. You weren’t nice to me and after doing you a huge fucking favour, which I still don’t know why you needed a fake girlfriend, you were still treating me just like how you did the first time we met. Then after your sisters wedding, it started getting better and by winter we were good friends. Something shifted in us, in me at least that night and I can’t overlook it anymore. It’s fine if this is it for us, ‘cause I can’t lie to your family anymore, but I need you to know one thing before I leave.» It felt so good telling him how I’d felt for so long, only one last thing to tell him.

Pushing myself to look up at him, I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. I couldn’t hold back the tears. He looked so vulnerable though he wasn’t the one holding his breath with a heavy heart trying to tell someone they have stronger feelings for them than might be reciprocated. He looked worried seeing me cry, but didn’t do anything knowing I didn’t want a hand to hold or a hug at this moment.

«I realized tonight that the night we first went out for dinner to take that picture for your parents was also the first time I understood my feelings towards you. It’s fucking insane that even after a year of basically hating your company, three months of us being friends was all it took for me to get feelings for you. I don’t want a fake relationship and I don’t want to be just your friend. I’m not going to say I’m sorry if this ruins things completely between us because I’m finally being true to myself and to you.»

Harry looked as if someone had just punched him in the face. His mouth was hanging open, jaw slack, eyes wide filled with curiosity. I had never let myself take in his gorgeous face completely. It’d only do me more pain than pleasure. Now though, I’m taking in every single detail I can before he either tells me to please leave or throw me out.

I removed my eyes from his face when his phone made a noise telling him someone sent a text message. It being close to one thirty in the morning made me incredibly curious as to who could be texting him now.

He apparently took his time to read it instead of responding to me as it was dead silent for another minute or so. Maybe he was replying or it was a really long fucking text.

Letting out a long sigh he dropped his phone back down on the table. It seemed he wasn’t quite sure what to do or say with how he dragged his hands over his face before standing up only to sit back down again five seconds later.

«Mum wants you to know that she loves you and thanks you for being with me, not just today but in general. This is how it’s been for the last two years for me, y/n. My family adores the shit out of you and I get at least two texts a day from mum asking how you’re doing and when she’ll see you next. It’s always y/n this and y/n that. You’ve invaded everyone’s minds and they’re obsessed with you.» Though it was nice hearing how much of an impact I’ve made, it almost made me more sad than happy. A couple more tears fell as I listened to him go on.

«The first year I tried so fucking hard to make you want to end it. Every time I asked you to come with me I hoped you’d say no and end it just so I could get you out of my head. You invaded my mind just like you did everyone elses and I couldn’t fucking bear it knowing we weren’t a real couple. After that kiss at the wedding I couldn’t keep my act together. It was excruciating being mean to you so I tried being your friend. I still to this day don’t know which was worse, being closed off or close to you.» Harry took one last breath before moving slightly so that he could reach over to hold my hands in his. This isn’t what I had expected and I still don’t want to get my hopes up.

«I want what my sisters have, what my parents have. I’ve wanted that so badly that I began thinking it wouldn’t happen as I’m 28 and still haven’t had one long-lasting relationship. I’d started to believe that it wasn’t in the cards for me - having a wife and a family. Then you came around and I these two years have showed me how fucking perfect you are and how you deserve so much better than me. But I’m a selfish man and I want you, y/n. Want you so much.» Not being able to keep away longer, I swiftly closed the gap between us, slotting my lips with his as I moved to straddle his waist.

It felt unbelievably good to kiss him like this, passion and lust clear as day as our tongues met for the first time. He wants me. I couldn’t stop saying the three words in my head as I let go to catch my breath. How in the world could I be so lucky to be wanted by the man I want?

I laughed as I wiped at my cheeks, removing the tear stains as well as I could without a wet washcloth to clean them off. Harry guided his lips from my jaw up to my cheek ending with a kiss to my shut eyelid. I had never experienced Harry being this soft and attentive, but it was all the more to look forward to.

«Maybe we can turn the fake relationship into a real one and not tell my whole family about it?» There was a cheeky smile playing on his lips as I let out another laugh. If this is what I have to look forward to - jokes, laugher and passionate kisses possibly leading to something more - then I couldn’t wait.

«Of course, Harry. And tell your mum I love her back and give her my number, will you? I’m still looking for a tour of their house after two years of you not giving me one.»

#harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fiction #harry styles writing #allegiance

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reallifesultanas · 4 years

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Portrait of Mihrimah Sultan/Mihrimah szultána portréja

Mihrimah was the most influential true-born sultana ever: she had the highest salary; she was a worthy child and descendant of her mother; she was a true charitable person who also had enormous political influence; her father’s partner and counselor for a lifetime; the only sibling ever to be an (unofficial) valide sultan to her brother; the "greatest princess" and matriarch of a dynasty ... She was a legendary persona, a unique princess.

Origin and early years

There is an amazing legend about the birth of Mihrimah Sultan. According to this, she was born on 21 March 1522, and for this reason the two mosques - built for her years later, designed by Mimar Sinan - were created so that on the princess's birthday, when the sun goes down behind the minaret of the Mihrimah Mosque in Edirnekapı, the moon just goes up between the two minarets of the other Mihrimah Mosque. An important part of the legend is that Mimar Sinan once had the opportunity to see the sultana and immediately fell in love for her. For this reason, his works of outstanding beauty and precision, the Mihrimah Mosques, are also seen as the embodiment of platonic love.

The legend is beautiful, but unfortunately not real. Mihrimah's brother, Mehmed, was born around October 1521, so Mihrimah could not be born in March 1522. Unfortunately, we do not have any evidence to know exactly when she was born. The discrepancies between the Islamic calendar and our calendar used today make it even more difficult to pinpoint. Most likely, in any case, she was born after August 1522, but definitely before 1523.

Although the date of her birth was unknown, the fact of her birth itself was distinctly extraordinary. According to tradition, if a concubine had given birth to a son, she could not return to the sultan's bed, so basically Hürrem, after giving birth to a son in the autumn of 1521, could no longer have been Sultan Suleiman's sexual partner. However, Hürrem not only returned to Suleiman’s bed, but became the sultan’s exclusive sexual partner and, after Mihrimah, she gave birth to four more children for the sultan. Hürrem had Mihrimah as her only daughter, while Suleiman already had a daughter, Raziye, who, however, died in an epidemic before Mihrimah was even born.

Mihrimah, as the only living little princess, was certainly not only the apple of her father's eye, but the light of the whole harem. She spent most of her time with her mother and governess, but they certainly also had regular contact with her family-centric grandmother, Hafsa. It was probably by this time that she began to learn the basics of embroidery from her mother. Hürrem was particularly talented in embroidery, her works being so outstanding that she sometimes sent them as gifts to the leaders of other dynasties. And Mihrimah was reportedly a great student to her mother, who mastered the technique well. In addition to her mother, her father also played an important role in her childhood. Suleiman often visited his family at the Old Palace, and from 1534 they moved together at the Topkapi Palace. From then on, Mihrimah could spend even more time near her father, whom she had regularly mesmerized with her mere existence.

Marriage and husband candidates

The marriage of imperial princesses has always been an important political tool. However, Suleiman did not make much use of this opportunity. His sisters were even married off by their father, Selim I, and after their widowhood he did not force them to marry again. He had a big amount of respect and love for the female members of his family, so he was expected to treat his daughter the same way. Suleiman, however, not only did not marry off his sisters again and again because of his kind nature, but fortunately he did not need allies what marriages could have given him. The empire was rising, the nation had never been so strong, and everyone loved him as a sultan, so simply he did not need allies by marriages.

Ttherefore, there was no particularly urgent need to marry off Mihrimah and it was not necessary to choose the future husband from among the senior and influental pashas. Thus, Suleiman could easily search for a statesman he liked, even from a lower position. Suleiman wanted a reliable, faithful husband for Mihrimah, while Hürrem would prefer a young and handsome husband. Hürrem recommended the Egyptian beylerbey to Suleiman, who was notoriously handsome and young. However, the sultan did not like the man, as he had a reputation as a womanizer, and it was rumoured that he had syphilis. Of course, many such rumors spread unfoundedly, but Suleiman did not investigate the Egyptian beylerbey, he simply rejected the idea. He had other plans. He singled out a particularly humble and trustworthy guy, who he had long known for, to Mihrimah’s side. His choosen one, Rüstem, was his personal servant for almost 10 years from 1526, after which he served as a governor for the sultan in various provinces of the empire. They were very close to each other, and Rüstem also taught the brothers of Mihrimah for a while, so the princes were well known by him. In addition, it is also likely that Mihrimah also had the opportunity to meet the pasha before, as he may have been in the same place as the sultana because of his proximity to the sultan. Eventually, of course, Hürrem was also accepted Suleiman’s husband candidate and the only question was whether Mihrimah would accept him.

Rüstem was roughly seventeen or twenty years older than Mihrimah, one of the ambassadors reported that he was not a particularly handsome guy, but was short and red-faced. So he was clearly not a teenage girl's dream, even if most sultanas had to marry much older pashas than Rüstem. Yet Mihrimah agreed to the marriage. The question arises, could she have said no at all? As a matter of fact, probably yes. She was Suleiman's favorite child, apple of his eyes, if she would had a personal and deep resentments towards Rüstem, she could have said no. But she didn't. Mihrimah was a very smart woman who stood by her mother's side since her childhood and who probably tryed to help her. She was obviously aware of the law of fratricide, that they had to do everything they could to remove Mustafa — his eldest half-brother — from their way, and with this, saving the lives of her blood-brothers. And Rüstem was a great opportunity to do so, as he had known and loved the sons of Hürrem since childhood, thus there was no question that he would side with Hürrem and Mihrimah in this bloody war. So for the sake of her brother's future, Mihrimah said yes to marriage.

Marriage and relationship with her husband

The wedding took place in 1539. Rüstem could have been around 35 at the time, while Mihrimah was 17 years old. The circumcision ceremony of Bayezid and Cihangir was held at the same time as the wedding of Mihrimah. The double ceremony eventually lasted for 15 days, during which the entire population of Istanbul shared the joy of the Sultan’s family during the festivals and feasts. Due to his position, Rüstem lived in Istanbul, so Mihrimah did not have to move far away from her parents either. That’s why Rüstem was a great choice, as neither Suleiman nor Hürrem wanted to lose their daughter. And Mihrimah, with her strong will, would certainly have manage to stay in the capital as well.

There is no question that it was not a love marriage, however, the relationship was by no means as bad as it was portrayed in the popular series. Mihrimah could at least marry a man he knew, who was a committed supporter of her brothers and was extremely loyal to her father, the Sultan. Their marriage was crowned in 1541 by the birth of their first child. Ayşe Hümaşah was the first child of Rüstem, the first grandson of Hürrem. By now, Suleiman was grandfather of at least one, as Prince Mustafa had a six-year-old daughter, but later Ayşe Hümaşah became his favorite grandchild. Mihrimah and Rüstem later — it is not known exactly when — had another child, a son, Osman. This suggests that they may have had a relatively balanced relationship, as the sultanas could have refused to have sexual intercourse with their husbands. Their fair relationship is also indicated by the fact that they had many charitable projects managed together.

The marriage of the two ended in 1561, with the death of Rüstem Pasha. However, their mutual respect is shown in the will of Rüstem. He left everything to his wife and daughter: the management of his charities was largely given to his daughter, but Mihrimah was given much similar tasks also. In addition, it was Mihrimah who completed the Rüstem Pasha Mosque, which was only half-finished at the time of Rüstem's death.

Her intrigues

According to legend, Mihrimah, with the support of her mother Hürrem, wanted to make Rüstem the next Grand Vizier, which plan was finally successfully completed. However, it would be wrong to think that only the actions of the two women led to the appointment of Rüstem. Rüstem had been the sultan's confidential man for twenty years so far, Suleiman found him worthy to be the husband of his only daughter, it was clear that the sultan himself wanted to give this position to Rüstem once. However, Mihrimah and Hürrem were not satisfied with this, but wanted Rüstem to enjoy the prerogatives that Ibrahim had previously enjoyed. The sultan, on the other hand, sharply refrained from letting anyone as close to him as he had done with Ibrahim.

One of the important cornerstones of Mihrimah and Rustem’s marriage was the multitude of common intrigues. Mihrimah was very active politically, with her husband she often was able to uccessfully convince the sultan. This was the case when, in 1542, Suleiman wanted to take the infant Hungarian king and his mother, Queen Isabella, to Istanbul as political prisoners. However, being a smart woman, Izabella knew she could get help from the sultan's daughter and wife. So she complained to Mihrimah and Hürrem about how young she was widowed, how she was left alone with her son and now even the sultan want to deprived her and her son of their throne. In addition, of course, she also sent very valuable gifts to Mihrimah and her husband. She must have mentioned her descent in her letter as well. Izabella was the daughter of the King of Poland, from whose country Hürrem Sultan came from. And this was an important link between Hürrem, Mihrimah and Izabella. Either way, Izabella persuaded Hürrem and Mihrimah, who together with Rüstem, easily persuaded the Sultan to support Izabella and her son instead of bringing them to Istanbul as prisoners. Thus it happened that János Zsigmond Szapolyai became the next king of Hungary.

However, the main task of the couple was to support the brothers of Mihrimah, especially Prince Mehmed. By 1543 it was quite clear that they wanted Mehmed to ascend the throne and the trio had done all they could for this aim. However, the early death of the prince made their situation more difficult. For a time they did not care which prince of theirs should be the next sultan, they worked only and exclusively to get rid of Prince Mustafa. It took another ten years before they were finally successful and Mustafa was executed by the Sultan. Exactly how much Mihrimah was involved in this process and what she did is unknown, as there is no evidence at all to prove the guilt of Hürrem or Mihrimah. But nonetheless, it would be naive to think that Mihrimah, who was the copy of her mother both in body and soul, would not have been involved in the struggle of her beloved mother and husband.

It seems that after Mustafa's death, the trio voted for Prince Bayezid, while the Sultan himself favored Selim. Perhaps that is why Bayezid was chosen: to balance the situation of the two princes. However, Bayezid’s nature resembled a timed bomb, so they were afraid that if he was not supported, he would raise the Sultan’s anger with a reckless act. Thus, the fact that Bayezid was supported does not clearly mean that they also wanted him to be the one sitting on the throne.

Loss of her mother

1558 brought a drastic change in Mihrimah's life. Hürrem Sultan died. Mihrimah and her mother were especially close to each other, of the known mother-daughter relationships, the two of them had the closest. Mihrimah visited Hürrem every day at Topkapi Palace, spending more time there than in her own palace. She also regularly accompanied her mother on her travels and visited her siblings together. Thus, the loss of Hürrem was certainly a great pain for Mihrimah. However, Hürrem, at the time of her death, handed over her responsibilities to her daughter, who thus had no time to mourn, she had to take immediate action to continue her mother's path. And this meant nothing more than the support of the Sultan and the protection of Prince Bayezid.

However, Mihrimah could not influence Bayezid like their mother, so she could not meke the prince to wait patiently and not annoy the sultan. Bayezid soon revolted against the sultan, and for this, according to several sources, Bayezid asked Mihrimah for money. And Mihrimah gave it to him. When the sultan realized this, he immediately questioned his daughter, who proudly replied that her mother asked her to do anything for Bayezid on her deathbed, so she was not guilty of anything. We don’t know how Suleiman reacted, but their relationship seems to have deteriorated for a while.

However, Mihrimah's support was not enough either, Bayezid failed in the decisive battle of the rebellion he fought, lost the battle and was forced to flee the battlefield. By this time, both Mihrimah and Rustem were helpless. And Rustem soon lost his life, so there was no one left to save Bayezid and his sons from execution. Bayezid was executed in 1562, and a few months later the sultan organized a huge wedding to marry off the daughters of the heir, Prince Selim, one of the daughters of the late Prince Mustafa, and the daughter of Bayezid who was at the appropriate age for marriage. Mihrimah faced her father again because of the wedding. Most sources say that it was only during the wedding preparations that Mihrimah learned that Bayezid had been executed, as by then the news had not reached Istanbul and Suleiman had ordered complete secrecy. Mihrimah, shattered and enraged by grief, found it deeply outrageous that a ceremony was being held in the empire shortly after his brother was executed. Therefore, she tried in every way possible to make the ceremony impossible, for example by forbidding anyone in the harem to have fun and show happiness. Since Mihrimah lived in the Old Palace since the death of Rustem and she probably led the harem also, her orders were accepted and there was no amusement in the harem. According to reports from the ambassadors, Suleiman was shattered and disappointed. However, upon hearing the news, Selim allegedly said, angrily, that he never loved his sister, nor her husband, nor their mother, for choosing Bayezid instead. However, the reliability of this news is in doubt, for the ambassador who wrote it deeply despised Selim.

Her relationship with her father seems to have settled over time, however, since in 1565, for example, Mihrimah persuaded her father to initiate a campaign against Malta, and she herself offered her own treasury, teasing to exhibit 400 galleys to the army. Thus, although there is no doubt that the execution of Bayezid left its mark on their relationship forever. It was probably at the end of his life that Suleiman could have his only daughter with him again.

The new era

Mihrimah lost her father in 1566 and a new world began for her with the reign of her younger brother, Selim. The relationship between the two was not the best, as Mihrimah was always on Bayezid’s side, but by this time only the two of them were alive from the family, so they chose togetherness instead of hatred. First, Mihrimah extended a helping hand to Selim when he was blackmailed and humiliated by the Janissaries before his accession to the throne. The Janissaries wanted to get their ascension fee immediately when Selim had not even ascended the throne. At that time, Selim did not have access to the imperial treasury, and it would have been too long to bring money from his own province, so Mihrimah paid the soldier's allowance for Selim to occupy the throne at all without riots. Selim did not remain ungrateful, for he made his sister the head of the Old Palace harem, and thus a de facto valide sultan.

During Selim's reign, she basically stayed in the background and spent her time on charity, construction projects instead of politics. Mihrimah has supported many construction projects, but the most famous are undoubtedly the two Mihrimah mosques, which are the most beautiful works of the imperial architect Mimar Sinan. She also supported Nurbanu's efforts to free two captured Turkish women from the French. Together, with Nurbanu’s daughters and her own daughter, they finally persuaded the Queen of France to send the women back home. Based on this, we can think that she had a good relationship with Nurbanu. There is no direct evidence of a relationship between the two women, probably it was a respectful one. However, Mihrimah’s daughter supported Nurbanu’s opponent, Safiye Haseki Sultan, which also raises the possibility that Mihrimah herself favored Safiye over Nurbanu.

The twilight of her life

Selim died in 1574 and his son Murad succeeded him to the throne. The relationship between Murad and Mihrimah is not known, but presumably a spike could have remained in Murad for Mihrimah supporting Bayezid. That is why there are those who suspect that Mihrimah lost all power during Murad's reign. In fact, this is unlikely, as Murad gave Mihrimah a salary as high as no other imperial princess has ever received in a similar situation. Mihrimah may have decided to retire by herself. With the death of Selim, she was left alone in the family, having so far lost four brothers, both parents, nephews, husband and her own son. Broken with so much pain, she probably no longer felt the urge to care with politics. Her daughter Ayşe Hümaşah, who was very active politically, continued her path.

Mihrimah died on 25 January 1578, in the Old Palace. Sultan Murad decided to bury Mihrimah next to her father, breaking the tradition that the sultans rested alone in their turbe. However, with her death, her bloodline did not disappear, as her daughter, her descendants, could be traced back to the 20th century, but presumably other family members still live today. They are the Mihrumazadelers.

Used sources: L. Peirce - Empress of the east; L. Peirce - The imperial harem; Y. Öztuna - Kanuni Sultan Süleyman; N. Sakaoğlu - Bu Mülkün Kadın Sultanları

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Mihrimah volt a valaha élt legbefolyásosabb birodalmi szultána: övé volt a legmagasabb fizetés; méltó gyermeke és utódja volt édesanyjának; igazi jótékony személy volt, hatalmas politikai befolyással; apja társa és tanácsadója egy életen át; az egyetlen valaha volt testvér, aki nem hivatalos valide szultána lehetett öccse mellett; a "legnagyobb hercegn��" és egy dinasztia matriarchája... Egy legendás személyiség volt, soha hozzá fogható nem élt.

Származása és korai évei

Mihrimah szultána születését egy igen érdekes legenda övezi. Eszerint 1522 március 21-én született, és ezen okból kifolyólag az évekkel később neki építtetett két mecsetet Mimar Sinan, birodalmi főépítész úgy tervezte meg, hogy a hercegnő születésnapján, amikor a nap az Edirnekapıban található Mihrimah-mecset minaretje mögött lemegy, a hold az üsküdari Mihrimah-mecset két tornya között éppen akkor keljen fel. A legenda fontos része az is, hogy Mimar Sinannak egyszer alkalma nyílt meglesni a szultánát és azonnal beleszeretett. Éppen ezért, a kiemelkedő szépségű és precizitású munkáit, a Mihrimah-mecseteket a plátói szerelem megtestesüléseként is tekintik.

A legenda gyönyörű, azonban sajnos nem valós. Mihrimah bátyja, Mehmed 1521 októbere körül született, így Mihrimah matematikailag nem születhetett 1522 márciusában. Sajnos nem áll rendelkezésünkre semmi olyan bizonyíték, amely alátámasztaná, hogy pontosan mikor született a szultána. Az iszlám naptár és a ma használt naptárunk közötti eltérések tovább nehezítik a pontos meghatározást. A legvalószínűbb mindenesetre, hogy 1522 augusztusa, szeptembere körül születhetett leghamarabb, de mindenképpen 1523 előtt.

Születési ideje bár nem ismert, születésének ténye maga kifejezetten rendkívüli volt. A tradíciók szerint ha egy ágyas fiút szült, nem térhetett vissza a szultán ágyába, így elméletileg Hürrem, miután 1521 őszén fiút szült, nem lehetett volna tovább Szulejmán szultán szexuális partnere. Hürrem azonban nem csak visszatért Szulejmán ágyába, de a szultán kizárólagos szexuális partnere lett és Mihrimah után további négy gyermeket szült a szultánnak. Hürremnek Mihrimah volt az egyetlen leánygyermeke, míg Szulejmánnak volt már egy kislánya, Raziye, aki azonban Mihrimah születése előtt életét vesztette egy járvány során.

Mihrimah, mint az egyetlen élő kishercegnő minden bizonnyal nem csak édesapja, de az egész hárem szeme fénye volt. Ideje nagyrészét édesanyjával és dajkájával töltötte, ám emellett minden bizonnyal a családcentrikus nagyanyjával is rendszeres kapcsolatban álltak. Valószínűleg már ekkor elkezdte eltanulni édesanyjától a hímzés alapjait. Hürrem ugyanis különösen tehtséges volt a hímzésben, munkái olyan kiemelkedő szépségűek voltak, hogy előfordult, hogy más dinasztia fejeinek küldte őket ajándékba. Mihrimah pedig a beszámolók szerint remek diákja volt anyjának, aki remekül elsajátította a technikát. Édesanyja mellett, apja is fontos szerepet töltött be már gyermekkorában. Szulejmán gyakran látogatta családját a Régi Palotában, majd 1534-től összeköltöztek a Topkapi Palotában. Innentől kezdve Mihrimah még több időt tölthetett édesapja közelében, akit már puszta létezésével is rendszeresen levett a lábáról.

Kiházasítása és a férjjelöltek

A birodalmi hercegnők házassága mindig fontos politikai eszköz volt. Szulejmán azonban nem különösebben élt ezzel a lehetőséggel. Lánytestvéreit is még apjuk, I. Szelim házasította ki, megözvegyülésük után ő pedig nem forszírozta újra házasodásukat. Meglehetősen nagy tisztelettel és szeretettel viseltetett családja nőtagjai iránt, így várható volt, hogy egyetlen kislányával szemben is a rá jellemző alapossággal fog eljárni. Szulejmán azonban nem csak kedves természete miatt nem használta ki nőrokonait, hanem szerencséjére nem volt szüksége szövetségesekre, melyeket a házasságok jeenthettek volna neki, hiszen a birodalom szárnyalt, sose volt még ilyen erős a nemzet és őt magát is mindenki szerette.

Ilyen háttérrel tehát nem volt kifejezetten sürgős Mihrimah kiházasítása és nem volt szükséges magas beosztású pasák közül választani a férjjelöltet. Így Szulejmán nyugodtan kereshetett neki tetsző államférfit, akár alacsonyabb pozícióból is. Szulejmán megbízható, hűséges férjet akart Mihrimah számára, ezzel szemben Hürrem inkább fiatal és jóképű férjet. Hürrem az egyiptomi beglerbéget ajánlotta Szulejmánnak, aki köztudottan jóképű és ifjú volt. A szultánnak azonban nem volt kedvére a férfi, hiszen csapodár természet hírében állt, ráadásul azt terjesztették róla, hogy szifilisze van. Természetesen sok ilyen pletyka terjengett alaptalanul is, Szulejmán azonban nem vizsgáltatta ki az egyiptomi beglerbéget, egyszerűen csak elvetette az ötletet. Neki ugyanis más tervei voltak. Egy általa régóta ismert, különösen szerény és megbízható pasát szemelt ki Mihrimah oldalára. Kiszemeltje, Rüsztem pasa 1526-tól majdnem 10 évig a személyes szolgálója volt, utána pedig feltörekvő pasaként szolgálta a szultánt a birodalom különböző tartományaiban. Igen közel álltak egymáshoz, valamint Rüsztem Mihrimah testvéreit is oktatta egy ideig, így a hercegek is jól ismerték. Emellett az is valószínű, hogy Mihrimahnak is volt alkalma találkozni a pasával, hiszen az kifejezetten sok helyen ott lehetett a szultánhoz való közelsége miatt, ahol lehetősége volt látni a szultánát. Végül természetesen Hürrem is kénytelen volt elfogadni Szulejmán férjjelöltjét és már csak az volt a kérdés, hogy Mihrimah elfogadja e.

Rüsztem nagyjából tizenhét-húsz évvel volt idősebb Mihrimahnál, az egyik követ beszámolója szerint nem kifejezetten jóképű, alacsony és vörös képű férfi volt. Egyértelműen nem egy kamaszlány vágyálma volt tehát, még akkor sem ha a legtöbb szultána jóval idősebb férjet kapott maga mellé. Mihrimah mégis beleegyezett a házasságba. Felmerül a kérdés, hogy mondhatott volna egyáltalán nemet? Ami azt illeti valószínűleg igen. Ő volt Szulejmán kedvenc gyermeke, szemefénye, ha különös és mély ellenérzései lettek volna Rüsztem irányába, mondhatott volna nemet. Ám ő nem tette. Mihrimah igen okos nő volt, aki gyermekkorától kezdve édesanyja oldalán állt és valószínűleg próbálta őt segíteni. Nyilvánvalóan tisztában volt a testvérgyilkosság törvényével, azzal, hogy mindent meg kell tenniük, hogy Musztafát - legidősebb féltestvérét - eltávolítsák az útból, ezzel megmentve édestestvérei életét. Rüsztem pedig nagyszerű lehetőség volt erre, hiszen gyermekkoruktól kezdve ismerte és szerette Hürrem fiait, nem volt kérdéses, hogy Hürrem és Mihrimah oldalára fog állni ebben a vérremenő harcban. Így tehát testvérei jövője érdekében Mihrimah igent mondott a házasságra.

Házassága és viszonya férjével

Az esküvőre végül 1539-ben került sor. Rüsztem 35 körül lehetett ekkor, míg Mihrimah 17 éves volt. Hogy minél nagyobb ünnepséget kerekítsenek belőle, az esküvővel egy időben megtartották Bayezid és Cihangir herceg körülmetélési szertartását is. A dupla-ünnepség végül 15 napig tartott, melynek során Isztambul teljes lakossága osztozott a szultáni család örömében a fesztiválok és lakomák során. Rüsztem pozíciójának köszönhetően Isztambulban élt, így Mihrimahnak sem kellett szüleitől távol költözni. Rüsztem ezért is volt nagyszerű választás, hiszen sem Szulejmán, sem Hürrem nem akarta lányát elveszíteni. Mihrimah pedig erős akaratával minden bizonnyal szintén azon ügyködött volna, hogy a fővárosban maradhasson.

Nem kérdés, hogy nem szerelmi házasság köttetett, azonban a viszony korántsem volt olyan rossz, ahogy például a népszerű sorozatban ábrázolták. Mihrimah legalább olyan emberhez mehetett feleségül, akit ismert, aki elkötelezett támogatója volt testvéreinek és végletekig hűséges volt apjához, a szultánhoz. Házasságukat első gyermekük születése koronázta meg 1541-ben. Ayşe Hümaşah volt Rüsztem első gyermeke, Hürrem első unokája. Szulejmán eddigre már legalább egyszeres nagyapa volt, Musztafa hercegnek ugyanis volt már egy hat éves kislánya, azonban mégis később Ayşe Hümaşah lett kedvenc unokája. Mihrimah és Rüsztem kapcsolatából később - nem pontosan ismert mikor - született egy fiú is, Osman. Ez azt sugallja, hogy viszonylag kiegyensúlyozott kapcsolatuk lehetett, hiszen a szultánák megtagadhatták a szexuális együttlétet férjükkel. Erre utal az a tény is, hogy nagyon sok jótékony projektet közösen irányítottak.

Kettejük házassága 1561-ben, Rüsztem Pasa halálával ért véget. Kölcsönös tiszteletüket mutatja azonban Rüsztem végrendelete. Mindenét feleségére és lányára hagyta: jótékonysági szervezeteinek irányítását nagyrészt lányára, ám Mihrimahnak is jócskán jutott hasonló feladat. Emellett Mihrimah volt az, aki befejezte Rüsztem Pasa mecsetjét, amely Rüsztem halálakor még csak félkész állapotban volt.

Az intrikus szultána

A legendák szerint Mihrimah, édesanyja Hürrem támogatásával szerette volna elérni, hogy Rüsztem legyen a következő nagyvezír, mely tervüket végül sikerrel véghezvitték. Azonban téves lenne azt gondolni, hogy csak a két nő ténykedése vezetett Rüsztem kinevezéséhez. Rüsztem eddigre húsz éve volt a szultán bizalmas embere, Szulejmán méltónak találta őt egyetlen lánya kezére, egyértelmű volt, hogy a szultán maga is ezt a pozíciót egyszer Rüsztemnek akarta adni. Mihrimah és Hürrem azonban ezzel nem elégedtek meg, hanem olyan előjogokat akartak Rüsztemnek, amelyek korábban Ibrahim Pasát is megillették. A szultán viszont élesen elzárkózott attól, hogy bárkit újra olyan közel engedjen magához, mint ahogyan Ibrahimmal tette.

Mihrimah és Rüsztem házasságának egyik fontos alapköve volt a közös intrikák sokasága. Mihrimah politikailag igen aktív volt, sokszor férjével közösen sikerrel győzték meg a szultánt egy egy ügy kapcsán. Ilyen volt, amikor 1542-ben Szulejmán szerette volna Isztambulba vitetni politikai fogolyként a csecsemő magyar királyt és édesanyját, Izabella királynét. Izabella azonban okos nő lévén tudta, hogy segítséget kaphat a szultán lányától és nejétől. Elpanaszolta hát helyzetét Mihrimahnak és Hürremnek is: hogy milyen ifjan megözvegyült, egyedül maradt fiával és most még trónjától, jogától is megfosztanák. Emellett pedig természetesen igen értékes ajándékokat is küldött Mihrimah szultána és férje számára. Minden bizonnyal Izabella levelében kijátszotta származását is. Izabella ugyanis a lengyel király lánya volt, azé a lengyel királyé, akinek országából Hürrem szultána származott. Ez pedig fontos kapocs volt Hürrem, Mihrimah és Izabella között. Akárhogyan is, Izabella meggyőzte Hürremet és Mihrimaht is, akik Rüsztemmel karöltve könnyedén rávették a szultánt, hogy támogassa Izabellát és annak fiát, ahelyett, hogy fogolyként Isztambulba hozatná őket. Így lett hát, hogy Szapolyai János Zsigmond lett a Magyar Királyság következő királya.

A házaspár fő feladata azonban Mihrimah testvéreinek támogatása volt, különösen Mehmed hercegé. 1543-ig teljesen egyértelmű volt, hogy Mehmed herceget szerették volna trónra emelni és a trió ehhez mindent elkövetett. A herceg korai halála azonban megnehezítette helyzetüket. Egy ideig nem foglalkoztak azzal, hogy melyik herceg legyen az új kiszemeltjük, csak és kizárólag Musztafa herceg ellehetetlenítésén dolgoztak. Még tíz évbe telt, mire végül sikerrel jártak és Musztafát kivégeztette a szultán. Az, hogy Mihrimah pontosan mennyire és hogyan vett részt ebben a folyamatban, nem ismert, hiszen nincsenek egyáltalán olyan bizonyítékok, amelyek Hürrem vagy Mihrimah bűnösségét bizonyítanák. Ám ettől függetlenül naivitás lenne azt gondolnunk, hogy Mihrimah, aki anyja kiköpött mása volt testben és lélekben is, nem vett volna részt szeretett anyja és férje harcában.

Olybá tűnik, hogy Musztafa halála után a trió Bayezid herceg mellett tette le a voksát, míg a szultán maga Szelimet favorizálta. Talán épp ezért választották Bayezidet, hogy kiegyenlített lehessen a két herceg helyzete. Mindemellett Bayezid természete egy időzített bombához hasonlított, így félő volt, ha nem támogatják, a szultán haragját fogja kivívni egy meggondolatlan cselekedettel. Így az, hogy Bayezidet támogatták, nem jelenti egyértelműen azt, hogy a trónon is őt szerették volna látni.

Édesanyja elvesztése

1558 drasztikus változást hozott Mihrimah életében. Hürrem szultána meghalt. Mihrimah és édesanyja különösen közel álltak egymáshoz, az ismert anya-lánya kapcsolatok közül, kettejüké volt a legszorosabb. Mihrimah minden nap meglátogatta Hürremet a Topkapi Palotában, ezzel pedig több időt töltött ott, mint saját palotájában. Emellett rendszeresen elkísérte anyját annak utazásaira és együtt látogatták meg testvéreit. Így minden bizonnyal Hürrem elvesztése hatalmas fájdalmat jelentett Mihrimah számára. Azonban Hürrem, halálakor feladatait lányára ruházta át, akinek így nem volt ideje gyászolni, azonnal akcióba kellett lépnie, hogy folytathassa édesanyja útját. Ez pedig nem jelentett mást, mint a szultán támogatását és Bayezid herceg védelmét.

Mihrimah azonban nem tudta úgy befolyásolni Bayezidet, mint édesanyjuk, így nem tudta azt sem elérni, hogy a herceg türelemmel várjon és ne bosszantsa a szultánt. Bayezid hamarosan fellázadt a szultán ellen, mely lázadáshoz több forrás szerint is Mihrimahtól kért pénzt. Mihrimah pedig adott neki. A szultán mikor rájött erre, azonnal kérdőre vonta lányát, aki annyit felelt, hogy édesanyja végakaratát teljesítette, ezért ő nem bűnös semmiben. Nem tudjuk, hogy Szulejmán hogyan reagált, de úgy tűnik viszonyuk egy időre megromlott.

Azonban Mihrimah támogatása sem volt elég, Bayezid herceg az általa szított lázadás döntő ütközetében elbukott, elvesztette a csatát és kénytelen volt elmenkülni a harctérről. Ekkor már Mihrimah és Rüsztem is tehetetlenek voltak. Rüsztem pasa pedig hamarosan életét vesztette, így nem maradt senki, aki meg menthette volna Bayezidet és fiait a kivégzéstől. 1562-ben Bayezidet kivégezték, majd néhány hónapra rá a szultán hatalmas lakodalmat szervezett, hogy kiházasítsa az örökös, Szelim herceg lányait, az elhunyt Musztafa herceg egyik lányát és Bayezid megfelelő korban lévő lányát is. Mihrimah újra szembekerült apjával az esküvő miatt. A források legtöbbje úgy írja, hogy Mihrimah csak az esküvő előkészületei során tudta meg, hogy Bayezidet kivégezték, addigra ugyanis a hírek nem érték el Isztambult, Szulejmán pedig teljes titoktartást rendelt el. Mihrimah a gyásztól összetörve és feldühödve mélységesen felháborítónak tartotta, hogy nemsokkal a testvére kivégzése után ünnepséget rendeznek a birodalomban. Ezért minden lehetséges módon igyekezett ellehetetleníteni a szertartást, így például megtiltotta, hogy a háremben bárki is mulatozzon és boldogságot mutasson. Mivel Mihrimah Rüsztem halála óta a Régi Palotában élt és valószínűleg vezette is azt, parancsai célt értek és a háremben elmaradt a mulatság. A követek beszámolói alapján Szulejmán összetört, és mérhetetlenül csalódott volt. Szelim azonban a hír hallatán állítólag feldühödve kijelentette, hogy sosem szerette nővérét, sem annak férjét sőt anyjukat sem, amiért azok Bayezidet választották helyette. Ezen hír megbízhatósága azonban kétséges, ugyanis a követ aki ezt lejegyezte mélységesen megvetette Szelim herceget.

Viszonya apjával úgy tűnik idővel mégis rendeződött, hiszen 1565-ben például Mihrimah győzködte apját, hogy kezdeményezzen hadjáratot Málta ellen, ő maga pedig saját kincstárát is felajánlotta, megígrve, hogy kiállít 400 gályát a hadsereg számára. Így tehát - bár kétségtelen hogy Bayezid kivégzése örökre nyomot hagyott kapcsolatukon - valószínűleg élete végén Szulejmán újra maga mellett tudhatta egyetlen lányát.

Az új korszak

Mihrimah 1566-ban elveszítette édesapját és egy új világ kezdődött számára öccse, Szelim uralkodásával. A két testvér viszonya nem volt felhőtlen, hiszen Mihrimah mindig Bayezid pártján állt, azonban ekkorra már csak ők ketten voltak életben a családból, ezért az összetartást választották a gyűlölködés helyett. Először Mihrimah nyújtott segítő kezet Szelimnek, amikor azt a janicsárok megzsarolták és megalázták trónralépése előtt. A janicsárok ugyanis azonnal meg akarták kapni a trónralépési jussukat, amikor Szelim még nem is lépett trónra. Ekkor Szelimnek nem volt hozzáférése a birodalmi kincstárhoz, saját tartományából pedig túl hosszú idő lett volna pénzt hozatni, így Mihrimah fizette ki a katonák jussát, hogy Szelim egyáltalán elfoglalhassa a trónt zavargások nélkül. Szelim nem maradt hálátlan, ugyanis nővérét tette meg a Régi Palota fejévé, ezzel pedig de facto valide szultánává.

Szelim uralkodása alatt alapvetően a háttérben maradt és jótékonykodással, építkezési projektekkel töltötte idejét a politika helyett. Mihrimah rengeteg építkezési projektet támogatott, ám leghíresebb kétségkívül a két Mihrimah-mecset, melyek Mimar Sinan birodalmi építész legszebb munkái. Emellett támogatta Nurbanu azon törekvését, hogy a franciáktól visszaszerezzenek két fogjul ejtett török nőt. Közösen, Nurbanu lányaival és saját lányával karöltve végül meggyőzték a francia királynét, hogy küldje haza a nőket. Ez alapján úgy gondolhatjuk, hogy Nurbanuval jó viszonyban voltak. Nincs közvetlen bizonyíték a két nő viszonyára, valószínűleg tiszteletteljes viszony állt fenn köztük. Mihrimah lánya azonban Nurbanu ellenfelét, Safiye Haseki szultánát támogatta, ami felveti azt az eshetőséget is, hogy Mihrimah maga is Safiyét favorizálta Nurbanuval szemben.

Élete alkonya

Szelim 1574-ben elhunyt és fia Murad követte a trónon. Murad és Mihrimah viszonya nem ismert ám feltehetőleg Muradban is maradthatott tüske, amiért Mihrimah Bayezidet támogatta. Épp emiatt vannak akik úgy sejtik, hogy Mihrimah minden hatalmát elvesztette Murad uralkodása alatt. Valójában ez nem valószínű, hiszen Murad olyan magas fizetést adott Mihrimahnak, amilyet soha egyetlen birodalmi hercegnő sem kapott hasonló helyzetben. Mihrimah talán maga döntött úgy, hogy visszavonul. Szelim halálával egyedül maradt a családból, eddigre elveszítette négy testvérét, mindkét szülőjét, unokaöccseit, férjét és saját fiát is. Ennyi fájdalomtól megtörve valószínűleg nem érzett már késztetést, hogy politikával foglalkozzon. Útját lánya Ayşe Hümaşah folytatta, aki politikailag igen aktív volt.

Mihrimah 1578. január 25-én hunyt el a Régi Palotában. Murad szultán úgy döntött, hogy a hagyományokat (miszerint a szultánok egyedül nyugodtak türbéjükben) megtörve, Mihrimah szultánát édesapja mellé temetteti el. Halálával azonban vérvonala nem tűnt el, hiszen lánya által, leszármazottjai a 20. századig nyomonkövethetőek voltak, ám feltehetőleg napjainkban is élnek további cslaádtagok. Ők a Mihrumazadeler-ek.

Felhasznált források: L. Peirce - Empress of the east; L. Peirce - The imperial harem; Y. Öztuna - Kanuni Sultan Süleyman; N. Sakaoğlu - Bu Mülkün Kadın Sultanları

#Mihrimah Sultan #mimar sinan #sultan suleyman #KanuniSultanSüleyman #Suleiman the Magnificent #Suleiman I #Haseki Hürrem Sultan #hürrem sultan #safiye sultan #rustem pasha #rüstem paşa #ayse humasah #ayşe hümaşah #Selim II #Nurbanu Sultan #ayşe hafsa

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femmeharringrove · 4 years

Note

#68 on the prompt list!

068: "We’ve been celebrating our wedding anniversary on the wrong day for the past nine years."

this took me a minute i'm so sorry oof!!

If there's anything Billy's learned, it's that his cooking skill is nothing compared to the culinary prowess of his husband. Stefano Alexander Lorenzo Harrington (a mouthful, Billy knows, he was terrified of messing it up during their vows) is king of the kitchen, and Billy enjoys everything he cooks, but sometimes Steve's menu can be used to give insight to what he's feeling.

It's one of those funny little quirks that the blonde man fell for all those years ago. After Starcourt, after he nearly died, his father cut ties with him completely and Max all but literally dragged him over to Steve's place. Steve didn't like him back then, not that Billy ever gave him a reason to like him, but the moment Max explained everything his doe eyes softened and he offered Billy a room in his house on the spot. Billy spent countless nights after that feasting on baked ziti and lasagna - "with my own pasta, none of that pre-made shit," Steve pronounced proudly as he served Billy the biggest slice of pasta he'd ever seen in his life to that point; he's outdone himself several times in the years since - and at one point realized he couldn't live a day without Steve's cooking.

He couldn't live without that blinding smile either, or without the sight of Steve chasing the Party around like a distressed young mother, or without the feeling of being wrapped up in those slender arms, face tucked into the crook of Steve's neck as the taller boy promised to keep him safe from the monsters of this and any other world. Steve told his parents Billy was just staying at the house until he found his feet, but they ended up living like that for four years before an argument between the Harrington men got ugly enough to make Steve want to leave. And so they did, after helping Steve's hoard of kids move to their respective colleges. They found themselves a little apartment in Malibu and Billy went to college that same year.

It was hard, for a while. Steve was still unsure of what he wanted to do in life and Billy struggled to find a balance between classes, his job at the garage down the street, and time with Steve. They fought, they cried, and Steve always ended up smoothing things over with Billy's favorite soups, no matter how hot it was outside, and slowly things got better.

Billy proposed to his boyfriend two years after that, and a year after that they got married, unofficially, with Hopper officiating and the Party giving Steve away. They were married on the beach on September 6th, Steve cried all through the ceremony and they spent much of that night in absolute bliss, wrapped up in each other's arms. Billy swore that the date would be one he would never forget, how could he forget? Nobody forgot their wedding date.

They've been married nine years now. He's got his engineering degree and owns the garage down the street now. Steve's artistic streak led to him opening a studio and offering art classes on top of selling his own work. They moved out of the apartment after Steve curled up to Billy's chest one night and begged for a baby. They have three of those now, bustling six-year-old Antonia, quiet three-year-old Max, and two-month-old Angelo. All three are with Auntie Max tonight, who's also moved out to the coast with Lucas and El in tow, because tonight is a special night. It's September 6th, and he and Steve are supposed to be celebrating.

Except Steve's making tiramisu and cheesecake. He's making Alfredo with shrimp and chicken and spinach, which Billy loves but knows that his husband hates. In fact, this is Billy's favorite meal, which Steve only pulls out when he's got something important to say or when Billy's feeling down. And Billy's not feeling down.

It takes some work to steal the great Stefano's attention in the kitchen, but Billy's got almost two decades worth of experience here. He hums before he touches the man - years of touch starvation and a few too many bad experiences have left the man rather skittish, especially with unexpected touches, so Billy's careful to give him warning. He presses right up against Steve's back and wraps his arms around him, fingers of his left hand slipping up under his shirt to stroke over Steve's hip while the fingers of his right hand settle just under the waistband of the brunette's sweatpants, trailing over a sensitive patch of skin. From there it's all about the kisses - little ones to the nape of Steve's neck, lazy ones on the side of his throat, nips and playful bites to the shoulder. He nuzzles at Steve's cheek a few times in between that mix and Steve lasts all of two minutes before he's melting back against Billy and gazing back at him, eyes painfully warm and full with that adoring look he always gives Billy. For a moment, the blonde can't breathe, stunned for the billionth time by Steve's beauty. He presses a soft kiss to his plump lips, slow and full of love, before nosing along his jaw.

"What are you thinking about?" he questions. Steve hums, turns from his current task of slicing his pasta dough to wrap his arms around Billy.

"You," he hums, and Billy has no doubt to the validity of that answer, but he presses anyway.

"What else?"

"What are you talking about?" Steve's eyebrow arches and Billy takes that exact moment to realize that his husband's beginning to grey, his coffee brown waves of hair showing a little speckle of silver. At thirty-five, Steve isn't really old at all, but he's got other little signs of age. He's not a lanky teenage boy anymore. But he's as stunning as ever, and Billy's heart melts as they stare at each other.

"Pretty boy, you told me you think spinach in alfredo is a sin, but you're adding it in and you only do shit like that when you've got something to share with the class. So share." His eyebrow arch as Billy opened his mouth to argue, and he hides a smile as Steve backs down.

"Fine. Sit down, Papa Blue." It's Billy's favorite nickname, received after their son Max stole the nickn baby blue. Max is biologically his, thanks to a donation from Robin. She did the same with Angelo, though their latest baby is Steve's, all big eyes and fluffy hair. Billy sits at his husband's request, and Steve sits across from him looking a little worried. "So, uh, you know how today is our anniversary?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Billy asks. Steve chews on his lip.

"Well, I called Hop this morning because he and Joyce wanna come meet little Jellybean," he begins.

"Angelo is gonna hate that nickname once he gets older," Billy warns. Steve shakes his head in amusement.

"No way, he'll love it. Or he'll at least have to tolerate it, because I'm not letting it go anytime soon. But that's besides the point. Hop and I were talking and he asked me what we did for our anniversary yesterday."

"Yesterday? Our anniversary is today, doesn't he remember?" Billy frowns as Steve runs his fingers through his hair.

"That's exactly what I said," he huffs. "But he was adamant we got married on the fifth, and so I went and checked."

"And?" Billy presses, terrified that he already knows the result. His husband bites his lip.

"And he's right. We misread the number on the date." Steve gives him a sheepish, frustrated look. "We’ve been celebrating our wedding anniversary on the wrong day for the past nine years."

"You can't be serious," Billy deadpans. Steve blinks at him.

Oh god.

It takes Billy seven seconds before he's snorting with laughter. Then he's flat-out snickering, and it doesn't take Steve long to follow. They laugh in the kitchen together until Billy's sides hurt and Steve starts to struggle for breath between his giggles.

"We've been doing it on the wrong day, what a bunch of idiots we are," Billy chuckles. Steve wipes tears of laughter away.

"Yeah, yeah," he chuckles, before his face morphs into something more apprehensive. "I'm sorry I got it wrong." Billy waves it off with one hand, a soft look settling on his face.

"Don't be. I've been making the same mistake. And I wrote the date down, I should have made my handwriting more legible." Billy's hand reaches over the table for Steve's. "Baby, I don't care that we've got the wrong date. All I care about is celebrating what we've got together, okay? I just want to celebrate the fact that I found someone who loves me more than I could ever deserve, someone who's stuck by my side through good and bad. I don't care what day we do that." He watches as Steve's anxious look melts into something significantly softer.

"Billy Hargrove, you deserve all the love this world has to offer and then some," he corrects gently. Billy's eyes crinkle softly around the edges as he smiles.

"And you've got more love in that mop on your head then the rest of the world could ever have." He stands and leans over to hold the other man's face in his hands, planting three quick kisses to his forehead. "Trust me, honey pie, you give me more love than I deserve. You give the whole world more love than it deserves." Steve's responding smile is bright and adoring, and Billy's heart melts even more.

"I love you, Billabong," he murmurs, stealing his own kiss from Billy's lips.

"And I love you, princess." They stay like that for a time, silent and content, before Steve speaks again.

"We're gonna get it right next year, right?" Billy laughs, nose wrinkling in his amusement.

"Of course. And every year after that. We can make it a two-day event, spend the first day bein' all romantic. I'm keepin' you in bed on day two, though." His smile turns into a familiar smirk. "Make you remember why you love having me around." He revels in the way his husband blushes violently, and Steve swats him away as he jumps up.

"You're a menace, Billy Hargrove. Leave me alone so I can finish cooking." He gets one last kiss before Billy backs out of the kitchen, and if he's got the same dopey grin on his face as he had in his twenties when looking at Steve Harrington, then it's neither here nor there.

#this was fun i wrote it on a train #steebie writes #harringrove #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

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onceuponastory · 4 years

Text

Coming Back Home Chapter Two: I Am A Heart

“I am a heart that’s hard to pin, You are an arrow sticking in” - hey ocean!: i am a heart

Read Chapter One: Hometown here!

Plot: Six years ago, Y/N left her hometown and all its bad memories behind, and never looked back. But now, she’s come back to be the maid of honour in her sister’s wedding. Returning ‘home’ means she has to confront her past, the last thing she wants to do. When she meets the handsome best man Nick, she feels more comfortable…until her sister asks her to show Nick around town…a town that Y/N fell out of love with a long time ago.

Can Y/N fall back in love with the town she left behind, and maybe find love of her own along the way? Important: This story is based on a prompt by @orphicodysseywrites. It’s a mix of prompts one and two from this post, so full credit for this idea goes to them! Warnings: There’s a few mentions of death in this chapter. If you’re sensitive to it and don’t want to read this chapter because of it, I totally understand <3 A/N: This is a very long chapter, almost 2,500 words long, so I hope you all enjoy it, lmao. As always, this chapter has been checked for errors, but if you see any pls do let me know. I’m going to be inactive this coming week, because I’m taking a little staycation to a place with very limited wifi, so if you send me a message/request, it might take me a while to respond. But I will respond ASAP! I will also be trying to work on chapter three/other stuff whilst I’m away, but I REALLY need this break, so pls don’t get mad if I don’t write anything.

Again, special thanks goes to my best friend Jo, aka @thesundrop, who made this banner, and helped so much with planning this fic. Some of you may know her as @staticscreenwriting, where she writes Billy fics. Check them out, they’re amazing!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Nick or his character! I just used Nick bc he’s the only character of Dacre’s that fits this prompt. Again, aside from Nick being in this, this fic has NOTHING to do with The Broken Hearts Gallery. But you should all go see the movie if you can, because it’s adorable!

Adjusting my hair and outfit in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time, I sigh. “You look fine, stop adjusting your outfit...” I tell myself. “Nick’s not going to care how you look....right?” God, I’m a mess. Putting on yet more lipgloss, Jane’s voice echoes in my mind.

“Both of you look so much like your mother. Especially you Y/N.” She was right, I did. Not that I had many memories of how my mother looked when she was still alive, but hours spent leafing through stacks of photo albums with my Nana and Katie when we were younger had made me more familiar with her and how she looked. She was gorgeous. I wish we had more time with her. If we had, our lives would be very different...and I would never have come to this town in the first place. Suddenly, I feel stinging sensation at my eyes. Aaaaand I’m crying. Great. Just what I fucking needed. A knock sounds at my door.

“Y/N? Are you alright? You’ve been up here a while.” Nick’s voice sounds through the door. No, THIS is just what I fucking needed. Shit. Now he’s going to think I’m a total emotional weirdo who doesn’t want to spend time with him. Not that that was a TOTAL lie, I did want to spend time with him....just anywhere but here. Oh, he’s going to hate me. “If you’re not feeling well or something’s come up, we could do this another time?” Nick continues, and I sigh again. He’s so sweet. I can’t let him down. Quickly trying to stop the tears from falling, I open the door, and Nick smiles. “Hi. You look great.” I immediately blush.

“Thanks...Oh! So do you!” I gasp, trying not to seem awkward.

“Thank you.” Nick chuckles. He looks at me closer, and his eyebrows furrow together. “Are you okay? Have you been crying?” He asks.

“Uh, no! It’s just...allergies.” I lie. “The dust in this house is terrible. So...shall we head out?” I ask, and Nick nods. The two of us walk downstairs.

“Byeeee you two! Have fun!” Katie’s voice calls from the living room. Oh, I’m sure I will.

“So, what do you wanna do?” Nick asks as the two of us leave the house.

“I don’t mind. I mean, we could go to the park, or for a coffee....or just, a walk in the woods?” I suggest. “Actually, maybe not the woods. There may be an axe murderer, or the big bad wolf or something.” I immediately cringe as soon as the words leave my mouth, and Nick laughs. Oh god, he’s laughing at me and how cringy I am.

“I mean, I didn’t personally think of that, but that’s a valid concern. I think we should take the park then.” He says, and I nod. “This way?” He points towards the town, and I nod. He sets off, leaving me standing there.

Well, that went better than expected. Oh right, I better go catch up with him.

“So, how long did you two live here?” Nick asks as we both walk closer into town.

“Um, about...sixteen years.” I work out the maths in my head. “We moved here when I was four, and Katie was two. We both left to go to college.”

“Oh! I thought this was where you guys were born.”

“Nooo, we just call it our hometown cause we’ve lived here from such a young age. At this point, it feels like our hometown. We’re actually from New York City, and we both moved back there for college. I live there full time now. Katie’s in New Jersey.” I explain.

“Oh, what a coincidence! I live in New York too.” Nick smiles. “Small world, right?” I nod. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, why did your parents pick here to move? This place is nice and all, but it’s a lot different than New York.” He asks. A memory flashes through my mind.

“What the hell do you expect me to do? I can’t look after them! This shithole is the best option, and you know it.” I shudder, hoping Nick doesn’t notice.

“Um....just personal circumstances really. Our Dad wanted a change of pace and scenery for us. He thought the city was too busy for us to grow up in.” Nick nods, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Another crisis averted. I look up at the sky and see the leaves on the trees. Some were bright orange, whilst others were red. I sigh happily. “You gotta hand it to my sister, she picked one of the most beautiful times of year to get married.”

“Yeah, beautiful.” Nick mumbles, and I look back over at him to see him looking at me.

“What?” His eyes go wide.

“Nothing! Just agreeing with you!” He gasps, before continuing to walk. Okay, that was weird. I shrug it off and follow him down the street. After a while, we reach the park and begin to walk around together. The two of us are silent as we take in the scenery around us. The leaves crunch under our feet. I was right, this time of year really was beautiful. The cold wind blows, and I shiver. “Want my jacket?” Nick asks.

“No thanks, I’m okay.” I smile. But come on, giving a girl his jacket? That’s so cliché...and so damn cute.

“Want to go on the swings? That might warm you up a bit.” He suggests. Another memory enters my mind.

“When’s he coming back?” I ask, tugging on her skirt. “I miss him.

“...Soon, sweetheart. He’ll be back soon. Why don’t you go and play on the swings and I’ll come over and give you a push in a minute?” She suggests, and I nod vigorously.

“Okay! See you in a minute!” I call, running towards the swings.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go on the swings.”

~~~

A few hours later, Nick and I were in the local coffee shop, chatting about everything from our interests to our time at college. “So when do you want to practise our big dance number?” Nick asks, taking a sip of his coffee. I sigh.

“Oh right, I forgot we’re meant to plan that at some point.” Nick chuckles. “So, what song do you want to pick?” Nick shrugs.

“It’s up to you, I’m okay with whatever.” I raise an eyebrow.

“Really? I don’t think Katie would be happy if we picked something like Baby Got Back to dance to.” Nick bursts out laughing.

“You’re right. But it would be funny. Any suggestions?” I shake my head.

“I mean there’s so many...maybe something slow? Or something more upbeat?”

“Well we have some time, so why don’t we each make a list and pick one?” He offers. I nod. “You know, I had a really nice time today...” Nick begins. I smile.

“Me too.” And I actually meant it. Despite how much I was dreading this, it went better than I expected. My phone rings, and I take it out of my bag. “Hey, Katie...Yes, I know...Okay, I’ll be back soon. Bye.” I hang up.

“Everything alright?” Nick asks.

“Sorry, turns out I’m urgently needed for some maid of honour duties, so I gotta go. Are you okay here, or do you wanna walk back to the house with me?” Nick waves me off.

“No, don’t worry, you go on. I need to take care of something in town anyways. See you later.”

“Bye, Nick.” I leave the coffee shop, and start the walk back to the house, almost feeling a spring was in my step. For the first time since being back here, I was happy. I was comfortable. And it was all thanks to Nick. I soon reach Nana’s house and walk inside. “Helloooo!” I call.

“Well, someone sounds happy.” Katie’s voice sounds from the living room. She comes out to greet me. “Oh. My. God. Look at the smile on your face!” She gasps.

“I had a great time with Nick today.” I explain.

“I can see that. Guess my big sister has the hots for the best man, huh?” She teases. My eyes widen.

“No, I don’t!” My cheeks flush.

“Mhm sure. Deny it all you want, I can tell. Anyway, come on you, we need to make the centrepieces.” I wasn’t in love with Nick. I may love spending time with him, but I absolutely was NOT in love with him.

~~~

That Night

"We are here today to honour the life of Rose L/N.” The priest begins. “She was a light in the lives of many, especially her two granddaughters, Y/N and Katie, who she is survived by. For most of their lives, she was also their guardian.”

“He’s not here.” Katie whispers in my ear. I discretely roll my eyes.

“Of course he isn’t. He stopped caring a long time ago.” I reply. I find her hand beside mine and give it a squeeze. “We have to be strong together now, like she said. It’s just us now.”

My eyes open, and I look around the room for a moment to get my bearings. I’m still in my childhood bedroom. It was just a dream. A dream featuring our past. A past I had tried to run from. Of course, it found a way to find me again. It has a funny way of doing that. My eyes drift over to the bedside table, displaying a picture of Katie and I with our Nana from many years ago. I smile softly and run my fingers over the image. “I miss you, Nana. I wish you were still here. To guide me...to guide us.” Laying back on my pillows, I sigh and hold the picture close. “Maybe if you were still here, I wouldn’t be such a mess.”

~~~

One Week Later - Fifteen Days Until the Wedding

“I’m just saying, Cinderella continues to be the best live-action Disney adaptation. It’s faithful to the story, the costumes are great, and it’s just so cute!” I exclaim, trying to stifle a yawn in the process. I was still having nightmares and barely sleeping. Thankfully, I was managing to hide it well, and nobody suspected anything. If they did, I could just lie and say I was up late working on bachelorette party plans and lost track of time. Nick laughs. “What?”

“I love that this is what you’re passionate about.” He grins.

“Well, I’m absolutely right.” I tell him, and he nods.

“Oh, absolutely.” I had a feeling that he had no idea what I was talking about, which was usually the case. But he agreed with me anyway, which I appreciated. Despite all my nightmares and bad memories, spending almost every day with Nick was helping me feel happier, and far more comfortable. It also took my mind off of my nightmares from the previous night. Nick was lovely, and I actually felt upset whenever we had to go back to the house. The fact he was gorgeous helped too, of course. Before I can say anything else, I suddenly spot the town’s bakery and walk over to the window.

“Look at all these cakes.” I smile. “Oh my god, those cupcakes still look delicious.” I state, staring through the window at them. “My Nana used to bring Katie and me here every Friday after school, and we’d each get a cupcake. I always chose the birthday cake ones, cause it felt like we had a birthday celebration every week.” I smile fondly. “It’s one of my favourite memories of her.”

“Do you want one?” Nick asks, causing me to look over at him. “Seriously, do you want one?” He repeats, taking out his wallet. “They do look amazing. And after all, today is Friday. Can’t waste traditions.” He smiles, and his smile almost makes my heart do backflips.

“Seriously?” I ask.

“Seriously.” Nick opens the door of the bakery. I hear the wind-chimes over the door sound as we both walk in, just like they did all those years ago. The smell of baking is everywhere, filling me with a sense of comfort.

“Oh god, I remember this smell. It’s so...familiar.” I whisper to myself, closing my eyes. In that moment, I feel like I’m a little kid spending time with my Nana again. But when I open my eyes, I’m back to my real life, and the nostalgia is gone.

“I’m coming, just give me a few minutes!” Someone calls from through the back of the bakery.

“Opal?” I ask. Opal was the owner of the bakery...at least when I still lived in Saint Chase. Like Jane, she was friendly and welcoming, and every customer was her friend. She always used to sneak Katie and I samples of her new loaves of bread and cakes before we went to school in the mornings. If we liked them, they stayed. She always called us her honorary business partners. Of course, now I know she probably said that to every kid who wandered in, but it made kid me feel great.

“That’s my name, don’t wear- oh!” She gasps, immediately retreating back through the door she came from. Nick and I give each other a confused look. Rose returns a few moments later, carrying a small cake.“Katie! You look so different from the last time I saw you. Congratulations on your upcoming wedding!” She grasps my hand and shakes it vigorously, then does the same to Nick’s hand. “Want to see a preview of the cake? This is in no way finished, but it’s just a small sample of the real thing.”

“Oh no, I-”

“We’re not-” Nick and I begin, but Opal ignores us.

"You two are going to just love it.”

“Opal! I’m not Katie!” I insist. She gasps, and her eyes go wide. “Katie is my sister. This is Nick. He’s the best man.”

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry.” Her face goes red. Nick and I reassure her that it’s okay. “Anyway, what can I get you?” Nick and I order our cupcakes, and she rings them up for us. Nick opens his wallet to pay for them, but Opal shakes her head. “No, please, these are on me. Count it as an apology...Seriously. I’m so sorry about the mixup.”

“Well, thank you!″ Nick smiles, taking the cakes and walking towards the door.

“Y/N...” Opal beckons me in closer, and I lean in. “I just have to say, you two are adorable together. I’m still sorry for my mistake, but honestly, you two look like a great couple.”

“We’re not-”

“Everything okay?” Nick asks.

“Oh! Yeah. Opal just wanted to ask me when we’re picking up the wedding cake.” I lie, giving Opal a pointed look. She nods vigorously. “Come on, let’s go. Bye Opal.” I say quickly, walking towards the door. She waves goodbye to us as we leave the store. Once we’re outside, Nick passes over my cake, taking a bite of his.

“Oh. My. God.” He moans happily. “That’s incredible.”

“Right?” I agree, taking a bite of mine. “It’s just as good as I remember.” Nick starts laughing at me again, and my eyes widen. “What? Did I say something weird?”

“You have icing on your face.” He responds. Of course I do. I’m a walking cliché, honestly. “Actually, you know what? I don’t care. This cake is that good.” I take another bite. “And besides, so do you.”

~~~

Later That Day

“That one looks like a dog.”

“A dog? No way. It looks like a hamster.”

“How the fuck does it look like a hamster?” Nick frowns.

“How the fuck does it look like a dog?” I respond, raising my eyebrow. Nick laughs. The two of us had finished eating our cupcakes (and wiped our faces), and were back in the park, drinking coffee and trying to see if we could tell what shape the clouds were.

“Guess we gotta agree to disagree.” I smile. “Even though I’m totally right.”

“Of course you are.” He says sarcastically, and I gasp in mock annoyance. But I don’t detect any malice from his comment...well, I hoped he wasn’t actually annoyed with me or anything, but he didn’t seem to be. Like I said before, I felt comfortable with Nick. Even though we had met a week ago, it felt like the two of us could joke with each other to our hearts content, neither meaning anything bad by it. It was weird how close we were, despite not knowing each other for that long. “Uh, Nick?” I ask, looking up again.

“Mhm?”

“Do those ones look like rain clouds, or is that just me?”

“I think you’re right, it’s-” The heavens open before he can even finish his sentence. “Oh god, okay, come on, I saw a bike shed or something over there, we can hide out there until it stops.” Nick tells me, quickly taking his jacket off and throwing it at me.

“What’s this for?!” I ask.

“What do you think it’s for?! It’s to hold over our heads!” Nick shouts. “Now come on, let’s go.” He holds out his hand, and I take it. He pulls me up. “Ready to run?” He asks. I nod. The two of us begin running through the park, holding Nick’s jacket over our heads with one hand each. We laugh as we run, trying to avoid slipping on the damp leaves or falling over. We soon reach the shelter, and Nick and I jump under it. The shelter is small, so our bodies are pressed up close against each other. I’m aware of the scent of his cologne again. Nick’s body is warm against mine as he wraps the jacket around my shoulders.

“You don’t have to give me your jacket.” I protest, but he insists.

“Don’t be silly. What would your sister say if I made her maid of honour catch a cold?” He asks.

“The same thing she’d say if the best man caught a cold.” I reply, trying to take the jacket off. Nick reaches out, gently placing his hands on my arms, stopping me. It feels like electricity runs up my arms as he touches them.

“Y/N, don’t worry about it. Honestly.” The two of us stand there, Nick still holding onto my arms. But it feels good. It feels...right. Nick keeps looking at me.

“Do I still have some icing on my lips?” I ask. Nick shakes his head.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He mumbles loud enough for me to hear. Whether I was supposed to hear it or not, I wasn’t sure. Nick leans closer to me, and my brain immediately goes:

“He’s going to kiss me. Oh my god, he’s going to kiss me. Do I even want him to kiss me?” And I realise that...I think I do want him to kiss me. Nick’s head moves closer to mine, and my head rises up to meet his. But just as our lips are about to touch, my phone rings, causing us to break apart. Dammit. I take my phone out, seeing Katie’s name flash on the screen. She always has the best timing. “Hey Katie. What’s up? ...Yeah it’s raining really badly. Yeah, a lift back would be great. We’re at the park. Okay, see you soon. Love you too. Bye.” Hanging up, I sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Nick responds. However, despite him saying that, it still felt like the air around us had changed. It wasn’t like we could go back to where we left off either, because everything felt awkward now.

Shit.

~~~

That Night

“Be good for your Daddy, okay Y/N?” She bends down and presses a kiss to my forehead. I nod. “I know I can trust you to help him look after your sister, right?”

“Of course, Mommy!” She grins, and pulls me in for a tight squeeze.

“There’s my smart girl. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I nod again.

“Have fun, Mommy!” I call, as she walks out of the door. And then, she was gone. The image changes into something else. “Daddy? Where’s Mommy? Why are you crying?” He blinks rapidly and bends down to my eye level.

“Mommy’s had to go, sweetie.” He explains.

“But...but where? She was meant to take me to kindergarten!” He looks away from me.

“I’m sorry. Your mommy’s an angel...she’s not coming back.”

Gasping, I sit up in bed again, looking around the room. My heart is racing. “It’s just a bad dream...Just a bad dream...” I tell myself, trying desperately to calm myself down. Getting out of bed, I cross over to the window, trying to ignore my shaking hands, and peek out at the night sky. Rows and rows of trees disappear into the darkness. “It’s not real. She died almost twenty years ago. It’s just a bad dream.” Clenching my fists, I furiously wipe at my eyes. "Dammit!” I curse.

I hadn’t had nightmares about the death of our mother in at least fifteen years. I thought I was finally getting better. Of course, life had other ideas. “I knew I should never have fucking come back here.” I hiss. That’s why still had bad dreams, because I was back here. I should’ve said no and ran when I had the choice. No, no, that’s stupid. Of course I couldn’t have said no. I could never let Katie down. God knows life let us down enough times already. No, I need to stop blaming the town for my problems. It’s my fault. I thought I was ready and healed, but obviously, I’m not. God, I need a drink.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, I leave my room and tiptoe downstairs to the kitchen, using my phone torch as a light source. Once I reach the kitchen and flash my light into the room, I almost jump out of my skin when I see a figure sitting at the kitchen table.

“Hey, I- Y/N?” Nick blinks his eyes, clearly startled by the bright light of my phone.

“Jesus Christ Nick! I thought you were a fucking murderer!” I gasp. He frowns.

“A murderer...who sits at the kitchen table? Anyway, why are you up so late? It’s like 2am!” I switch the light on.

“I could ask you the same thing. Why are you here scaring the life out of me at 2am?” He holds up some paper.

“Best man’s speech. I had a stroke of genius and decided to write some of it.”

“In the middle of the night? In the darkness? And people say I’m weird.” Nick chuckles. I cross over to the cupboards and get out some mugs to make tea. “Want some tea?” I ask, and he nods.

“Anyway, you didn’t answer my question. What brings you here at this hour?”

“Oh I just love hanging out with men in kitchens at 2am, didn’t Katie tell you?” I tease, filling the kettle and putting it on to boil. Nick laughs. I can’t tell him the truth. Then he would think I was weird. “But seriously. Couldn’t sleep.” I mean, that wasn’t a total lie. Nick didn’t have to know the truth. “How’s the speech going?”

“Ehhh?” Nick responds. I turn back to him and raise an eyebrow. “Not well.”

“I can tell.” The kettle finishes boiling, and I pour the water into the mugs. “But I’m here now, so you have an extra person to help you.”

~~~

One Hour Later

“Y/N...Y/N?” I hear someone whispering. Is someone....nudging me? I look up. Why was my head on the table? I notice that Nick has scooted closer to me. Is he the one nudging me?

“Mmm, Nick...whashappenin?” I mumble.

“You fell asleep.” He explains. I shoot up in my seat and rub my eyes.

“What?!” I gasp. “Why didn’t you wake me up?! I was meant to be helping you with your speech!”

“It’s alright, don’t worry.” Nick reassures me. “You looked really tired, so I thought I’d let you sleep. You sure you’re okay?” He asks. Before I can say anything in response, I yawn. “Guess that answers my question. I think you should go to bed.” I shake my head.

“Nope. I’m not....” I cut myself off with another yawn. Nick gives me a look. “...Okay, maybe I’m a little bit tired.” I admit.

“Mhm. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He helps me up. I protest, but he continues to do so. “Y/N, trust me. You need some sleep. You’ll thank me later.” I realise he’s probably right. So, I let him lead me upstairs and into my bedroom, his hand resting on the small of my back. “So uh....can you take care of yourself from here?” He asks. I chuckle softly and nod.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks Nick.” I smile. “Goodnight.”

“Night Y/N.”

~~~

The Next Morning - Thirteen Days Until the Wedding

“You invited Great Aunt Hilda? Seriously? All she’s going to do is talk about her cats.”

“That’s why she’s sitting with you. At least you’ll have something in common.” Katie jokes. I jokingly punch her in the arm. “Hey!” She laughs. The two of us were spending the day arranging seating charts and finalising the seating plan. So far, it was all going well, and we managed to make it fun. “Oh, god.” Katie wrinkles her nose. “I forgot both Uncle Chris and Aunt Pamela said yes, AND they’re bringing plus ones. That’s gonna be rough.”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay. Didn’t they get divorced like three years ago?” I ask.

“Yeah, but I don’t think Aunt Pam’s gonna be a fan of his plus one....” She raises her eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh right, he dumped her for his secretary, the one with the big boobs, didn’t he? Are they still together?”

“Yuuuup. She’s the plus one.”

“Better sit those two as far away from each other as possible then...” I mumble, trying to arrange the tables on my side of the chart as best as I can. Studying the rest of the little figures representing people, I frown, seeing one I haven’t seen before. One I definitely did not expect to see. I pick it up, and my eyes go wide. “Uh, Katie?”

“Mhm?”

“...Why does our Dad have a seating place?”

#dacre montgomery #dacre x reader #dacre montgomery fanfic #dacre montgomery fic #nick x reader #coming back home fic

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heyyyharry · 5 years

Text

Chapter 14: For Better Or Worse

(from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

…in which Harry and Niall have a guys night, Y/N starts showing, and Layla loves her wedding dress.

Word count: 4k

Chapter 13: Prenatal Visit - Y/N and Harry run into her ex at the doctor’s office.

Wattpad link

ANNOUNCEMENT: I have a college project coming up so I will not update next week. The next chapter (the Halloween special) will be posted on Tuesday, October 8. If nothing changes from now until the last chapter, there will be 17 chapters in total. for this last book. Now, enjoy this chapter and leave your comments! - Allie.

Harry hadn't been this excited since the night before his wedding. He was normally the type of person who would just go with the flow, but ever since his wife got pregnant, he had been counting each day and marking his calendar to keep track of her pregnancy. Today was the first day circled in red on the calendar, and the satisfaction of crossing it off first thing in the morning got him feeling elated.

Today, they would get to see their baby for the first time.

Y/N was already twelve weeks pregnant and started showing. Every night, he would rub her tummy and talk to it even after she had reminded him that their baby hadn't even got ears. He knew that. But the thought of Asteria or Jasper growing inside of her filled him with so much joy. He had to let his baby know how much he loved them.

It was the night before the first scan. While his wife was sleeping right next to him, he stayed up to watch ultrasound videos on YouTube. He didn't expect to get so emotional just from watching someone else's child moving for the first time. That was how he knew, when he finally got to see his own child, he surely wouldn't be able to hold back his tears.

Harry ended up falling asleep while watching those videos, and Y/N woke up to find him snoring softly with his phone on his face. She had to wake him up and drag him out of bed so they wouldn't be late for the scan appointment.

Thank God, it wasn't a busy day in the hospital. The atmosphere in the waiting room was different from the last time they'd been there for her pregnancy test. It was soothing, with perfumed scent air and unhurried nurses moving with a serene purposefulness from room to room. Nevertheless, Harry's mind was racing a mile a minute, and Y/N could feel it when he squeezed her hand.

"Relax, honey. I'm not giving birth right away," she joked, making him chuckle.

"I am relaxed though. What are you talking about?" he told her. But even himself was aware that 'relaxed' was an overstatement. Taking a seat by the examining table, he watched his wife lie down on her back and tilt her head to give him another smile. He gave her one in return to pretend that he was fine, but his knee was popping rapidly like he'd consumed a ton of caffeine before he got there.

The sonographer spread a gel over her tummy and then rolled a small scanning device around the area where the gel was. All three of them turned to the computer screen. As soon as the first images were shown, the shakiness in Harry's limbs immediately vanished. His entire body stiffened as he held his breath, peering at the screen. That was his baby. And they were moving. He had seen too many videos last night, so why was he still in shock?

"Although you won't be feeling your baby move just yet, they're dancing around inside you," said the sonographer.

Y/N had already teared up when she turned to Harry, wanting to see his reaction. But he was just sitting there with his mouth and eyes wide open. He couldn't even move a muscle let alone look away from the screen.

His emotions were like slow effects. It was only until they were sitting in the car in the hospital parking lot, and he was looking at the first photos of their baby, did he begin to cry. He turned to her, smiling tearfully and saying, "this is our baby, Y/N. This is Asteria or Jasper."

Even though Y/N's eyes were just beginning to dry, it didn't take more than a few seconds for her to tear up again. She leaned in, kissing him deeply and pulling away to rub his shoulder, eyes on the photos he was holding.

"Would you mind if I replace your photo in my wallet with this one?" He chuckled slightly and wiped the tears on his cheeks as Y/N tossed her head back and laughed.

"Of course not," she said, beaming. "I would do that, too."

"So...Is this Ria or Jas?" Niall questioned as he squinted his eyes at the ultrasound photo in his hand. Harry tried to focus on driving, still he kept glancing back and forth between the road and Niall, just to make sure Niall was being careful with the first photo of his baby.

"Are you stupid?" he said. "The baby hasn't got ears yet."

"Oh, right!" Niall snorted as he carefully put the photo back in his best friend's wallet. They were on their way to Niall's brother bachelor party. His brother's wedding and his were only six months apart.

The last time Harry had gone to a bachelor party had been by far the worst experience in his life, and he'd told himself that Niall's would be the last one he would attend in this lifetime. After that, he'd be retired from bachelor parties for good. But then, Niall had to drag Harry to his brother's bachelor party, saying Harry could use this as an example to throw one for him. Harry felt like it was his responsibility as the best man to make the groom happy, so here he was, driving Niall to the party and already wanting to turn his car around and go home.

"So when will you find out the baby's gender?" Niall asked to fill the silence.

"We'll get another ultrasound done between the eighteenth and twenty-second weeks."

"Are you nervous?"

"Yeah but...I'm happy either way."

"No, I mean...Are you nervous that you're going to be a dad? Because I'm already nervous that I might not be 'cool uncle Niall', you know?"

The way Niall blew out his cheeks and shook his head had Harry cackling. "Niall, you'll be a great uncle," he said. "Just...just don't coax my kid into weird stuff and you'll be fine."

"Hey, 99% of the trouble we got into was because of you!"

"Shit, you're right." Now it was Harry who blew out his cheeks in frustration. "But I'm going to be a good and responsible parent," he reassured himself, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "I got this."

"Let's hope so," Niall said as he clasped his hands together. "Aaaaanyway, I think there are strippers there."

"What part of 'a good and responsible parent' didn't you understand?!" Harry exclaimed. "And Layla would kill you."

"I was just saying that—"

"Don't even say that!"

"Okay, okay! Gee!" Niall rubbed his forehead as Harry slowed down and pulled over in front of a club.

"Last chance to change your mind," Harry turned to him, arching an eyebrow and hoping that he'd say no.

It took Niall a few seconds to think before he unbuckled his seatbelt. To Harry's disappointment, he said, "let's do this!"

Meanwhile, Y/N and Layla were together in Layla's bedroom. The bride-to-be had just got her wedding dress earlier that day, and she'd been wearing it and swaying in front of the mirror for over forty minutes. Even though she had repeatedly said she wasn't nervous about her wedding because she was rich, Y/N knew Layla had never been more nervous about anything else in her life. She was probably as just agitated as Y/N and Harry in the waiting room yesterday.

Y/N had grown up with parents who loved each other. Layla, however, hadn't been so lucky. Those who didn't know her well would envy her because she was not only pretty, but also rich, and engaged to her best friend, who was also rich. Little did they knew, Layla had to struggle every day for validation. Her parents hated each other, and they didn't love her either, or so it seemed. When she told them about her engagement, neither of them had showed any interest, so she didn't even bother to send them the invitations.

Poor Layla had poured her heart and soul into planning such a big wedding with such little help, and she hadn't been fully happy for weeks. But today, after putting on her two-thousand-dollar wedding dress, she was on cloud nine. Y/N wished Layla would remain this happy until long after her wedding day.

"If you continue to dance like that, you'll get sweaty and ruin the dress."

The warning got Layla rooted to the spot, her eyes popped out. "Shit, you're right! I have to take it off! Help me!"

Giggling, Y/N rose from the bed to help her best friend unzip and step out of the dress. Layla had to remind Y/N every five seconds to be careful as they brought the dress to her wardrobe, and each time Y/N had to reassure her again that she knew how to handle a wedding dress because she'd been a bride before.

"Oh, really? Remember what happened to your wedding dress?"

"It wasn't even my fault," Y/N said as she flopped down on the bed, waiting for Layla to put her clothes back on.

Once Layla was done, she took a seat next to Y/N and repeated the obvious, "I just really love it."

"I know. You treat it like your own baby."

"Well, because it is my baby. The whole wedding venue could just burn and crash, but as long as I have that dress, everything is fine," Layla said with a straight face to prove that she was serious. Then, she changed the subject, "speaking of a baby, how's yours?"

Y/N brightened at once. "We got to see them for the first time yesterday!"

"Oh, shit, right!" Layla exclaimed as she held her head. "Fuck, you told me last week and I forgot! Do you have a photo?"

"Here." Y/N beamed and showed Layla the one she kept in her wallet.

"Oh my God, hi baby Ria or baby Jas. Whoever you end up being, aunt Layla will love you anyway," Layla said before glancing up to meet Y/N's eyes. "I've never talked to a womb before, how did I do?"

"You did great." Y/N giggled, giving her a thumb up.

Sighing in relief, Layla handed her back the photo so she could put it away. "So..." she trailed off. "You already got your dress right? When will I get to see it?"

"Um...I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I just...I'll be six-month pregnant at the wedding, so it's a bit loose for me now. I'll show it to you when it's close to the wedding day."

Layla scoffed, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter, just let me see it!"

"No," Y/N said she rose from the bed, checking her watch. "I gotta go home to pick up Treasure now."

Layla grabbed her wrist in an instant. "No, bitch, you're showing me the dress!"

"No!"

"Why?!"

"Because—" Y/N exhaled sharply as she pulled her arm out of Layla's grip. "I don't know...I just...look weird in it."

"Bullshit."

"It's true! I'll probably look so funny standing next to your skinny bridesmaids."

"You're not even fat."

"I will be," she blurted, not knowing why she'd said that aloud.

Y/N would never talk about her weight, even at moments when she was the most insecure. She believed that people wouldn't notice her imperfections if she didn't point them out herself. But ever since she got pregnant, she had changed a lot, physically and mentally, and she was more conscious about how she looked than she had been before.

Her cheeks reddened when Layla chortled. "You're pregnant, Y/N. Of course you'll be gaining a bit of weight. Why's it such a big deal?"

"I just..." She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Never mind, it doesn't matter. I-I gotta go home and pick up Treasure."

"I'm coming with you!" Layla shouted and hurried after her to the door. "But...can we stop by the grocery store on the way?"

The music in the club was as loud as thunder and the laughter ringing in Harry's ears wouldn't seem to stop. He liked the song they were playing, but he hated everything else. The group of men in front of him was cheering and drooling over the two strippers dancing around Niall's brother, who was tied to a chair. Harry loved the man but how on earth could he look so happy? What would his future wife think if she saw this scene? Harry honestly couldn't relate. Shaking his head, he took a sip of the champagne in his glass and leaned back against the bar counter.

The funny thing about this whole experience was that it used to be normal to him. Partying used to be his way of escaping from stress and responsibilities and all that shit. He used to depend on parties like this, on touches of women he didn't know to feel fulfilled. Now here he was, judging these people and wishing he'd been home with his wife. He would rather spend the rest of tonight talking to her womb than checking his watch every two seconds.

As he finished the thought, he turned to his best friend, who had the same look of anxiety on his face. Niall turned to him, frowning as he said, "are you scared? Because I kind of am."

Harry chuckled at the comment. "I've been scared since we got in the car."

"I can't believe we used to enjoy this," Niall said, nodding his head toward his brother, who was literally grinding that stripper. "I think we're getting old."

"We are," Harry agreed, emptied his glass with one go, and slammed it down on the counter. "Niall, you can't have a bachelor party like this."

"I can't have a bachelor party like this," Niall repeated the same words, slowly shaking his head, still watching his brother with anxiety.

The horrified look on his face made Harry laugh. "Your wedding would become your funeral."

"That's not the thing though," Niall said as he turned back to Harry, his eyebrows knitted together. "I'm not afraid of Layla. I just don't want to hurt her and I don't want another woman to touch me."

"I can't relate to not being afraid of Layla but—" Harry paused, looking at the other men and sucking a breath. "You're absolutely right."

"Maybe we could...I don't know? Go shopping or something for the bachelor night?"

The suggestion left Harry poker-faced. "Not having strippers at the party does not equal not having a party at all, Niall."

"You don't get to judge me. We were at a spa on your bachelor night!"

"Fuck, you're right," said Harry with a monotone and an empty stare as he puckered up his lips. Niall was about to make a remark when one of the strippers approached them. At first, Harry thought she was just coming over to get some drinks from the bar, but she stopped right in front of him and leaned in so close that he nearly fell off his chair from leaning back, not wanting to touch her.

"Hey, pretty boys, you want a show?" The brunette had a thick German accent, and her voice was annoyingly piercing. Harry hated it. Still, he politely muttered, "no, thank you."

He didn't how to push her away without having to touch her or appearing as being rude. Fortunately, he didn't have to do anything. She pulled back on her own, setting her hands on her hips and raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I get it," she said, pointing to each of them. "Are you two gay?"

"No, I'm a dad," Harry awkward replied, and he was so confused when a smirk appeared on her face.

"Oh, so you have a daddy kink, huh?"

"He does." Niall cracked up, and Harry smacked him on the arm.

"No, I'm an actual dad," he said, raising his hand and pointing to the ring. "I'm married. Sorry."

The woman burst out laughing as she immediately apologized for making him feel uncomfortable. But then she winked at him and said, "I'll be over there if you change your mind."

Harry and Niall both swallowed as they watched her walk away, swaying her broad hips seductively. Then, as if they could read each other's mind, they turned to each other and spoke at the same time, "let's get out of here."

Y/N was deeply concerned.

She'd had a bad feeling when Layla walked out of the grocery store holding two heavy bags of snacks which was more than the amount she'd eaten in twenty-five years of her life.

"Who are these for?" Y/N had asked.

And Layla had told her, "for me. I'm in a good mood."

Y/N didn't know what kind of 'good mood' her best friend was in, but now the girl was lying on the couch with Treasure on her lap, a bowl of popcorn on her right, a giant pack of gummy bears on her left, and her legs on the coffee table. She didn't look like Layla, she looked like Y/N's dad on lazy Sundays or football nights. That was how Y/N knew it was serious.

"I'm going to order a pizza. Want one?"

"Please don't. I'd throw up all over you," said Y/N as she marched toward the couch and took the bowl of gummy bears away from Layla. Layla attempted to reach for it, but Y/N smacked her hand away.

"Hey!"

"What is wrong with you?!" Y/N said. "First, you bought everything in the store that contained sugar and now you're eating pizza?!"

"I've eaten pizza plenty of times!" Layla gasped.

"That was before you turned thirteen!" Y/N cried out, but her best friend was just gawking at her like she was the one talking nonsense.

And then, it hit her.

Y/N sat speechless, her eyes bulging out as she finally realized what was happening here. "Oh no," she mumbled with a blank stare. "You're trying to gain weight with me, aren't you?!"

"No, I am not!"

"Yes, you are! You touch your hair a lot when you lie."

"Bullshit."

"There! You're doing it again!"

Layla suddenly withdrew her hands from her hair and shoved them into her armpits, her forehead puckered up and her voice was low. "So? What if I want to?"

"Then you won't fit the dress, Layla! Stop being crazy!"

"I can still get it altered," the girl argued, giving Y/N a slight shrug. "I want you to feel good about yourself, especially at my wedding."

"And you're doing that by gaining weight and ripping the dress that you love?"

"I love the dress," Layla breathed. "But...I love you more."

Though they'd been friends for that many years, Y/N could barely recalled the last time Layla had said those three words to her without making it sound like a joke. And now, it was definitely not a joke. Because the girl was blushing and nervously rubbing her palms together.

Y/N couldn't hold back a massive grin as she said, "I love you too." And then reached for Layla's hand. "But you don't have to worry about me. I'm just temporarily insecure about my body. I guess all women feel this way at least once during their pregnancy, but I'll get over it."

"What if you won't? I can't be happy at my wedding if you aren't." Layla huffed as she rolled her eyes upward. "And God, it's awful enough that you can't even attend my bachelorette party."

"Layla, we've talked about this. There'll be alcohol and...and a lot of activities that will be too much for me and my baby bump."

"I could just get rid of those."

"No, don't be stupid."

Those words slipped out before Y/N could stop herself. She had never called Layla stupid, not even as a joke. In fact, nobody had ever dared to call her stupid. Y/N expected her to get angry and say something mean, like she would have if it'd been Niall or Harry who'd said it by accident. But, no. She just snorted and playfully hit Y/N's cheek. "If I could only have one guest at my wedding, it'd be you. So...I won't have any fun unless you'll be there and have fun with me. We're in this together, remember? For better or worse."

Y/N couldn't come up with a response. In fact, she was too emotional to even make a sound. The way her chin quivered made Layla chuckle.

"Bitch, you'd better not cry because I'll—"

Without waiting for Layla to finish that sentence, Y/N wrapped both arms around her neck, hugging her so tightly. And Layla hugged her back right away as they both started laughing for no reason. Who knew how long they would've stayed like that if their men hadn't walked in?

"We're back!"

The girls both turned to the door, slightly confused.

"Oh, you're back early." Y/N raised an eyebrow as her husband approached and kissed her on the cheek. "How was the party?"

Exchanging looks, Harry and Niall said at the same time. "Terrifying." "There were strippers."

"Harry!" Niall shouted at his best friend, but it was already too late. Layla stood up so quickly that Harry reflexively took a step back.

"Strippers?" she exclaimed. "There were strippers?!"

"Yeah, but we didn't touch them—"

"I'm gonna kill Greg!" Layla clutched her fists and squinted her eyes. "I'm gonna kill your brother. I mean it this time."

Clearing his throat, Harry nudged Niall so he would say something before Layla stormed out with a murder weapon in her hand.

"Anyway," Niall began with a laugh. "Thanks to Greg, we just came up with a great idea for our bachelor party!"

"We don't care about your—"

"When I said 'our', I meant, 'yours and mine', baby."

Y/N seemed rather puzzled. "Wait, you want to do a double bachelor party?"

"Yup!" Harry said excitedly. "Fuck tradition. Let's do a treasure hunt."

Everyone turned to look at the white cat, who was glaring at Harry, not so happy about what he'd just suggested.

"No, not our Treasure." He rolled his eyes. "I mean the game we used to play on Halloween night each year back in college. You know, since Halloween is the day before your wedding."

"It is?!" Layla gasped.

"Yeah. You didn't know?" Harry chuckled and gave her a shrug. "I thought you picked the day on purpose."

"What was that supposed to mean, asshole?"

Ignoring those two, Niall spoke, "Y/N is pregnant so she doesn't have to play, but she can be the host."

"Nuh-uh." Layla shook her head, crossing her arms. "If she's the host then Harry will automatically win."

"Hey, I'm not a cheater!" Y/N said, and Layla motioned her to shut up.

"I don't believe you. This idiot is your big baby. You'd kill someone for him."

"Yay, I'm the big baby!"

"Shut up, Harry!"

"Guys! Focus!" Niall exhaled. "We'll ask someone else to be the host then. But does that mean you two are in?"

"I don't know...The first time I played, Harry and I fell through the floor and got trapped in the basement," Y/N said, but her husband stroked her hair and gave her a reassuring smile.

"We'll pick a safer location this year. Do you really think I'd put my babies in danger?"

"Okay, then we're in," Layla said before Y/N could even open her mouth, and the men high-fived each other like two little boys.

It was only when Y/N got up and picked up the bowl of gummy bears that Harry and Niall noticed all the snacks on the coffee table. They both pointed to them and said at the same time, "are those for us?"

"No, they're—"

"Yes, they're all for you!" Y/N happily shoved the bowl into Harry's hands so she could pull Layla up. "Come with me. I'll show you my dress."

"Yes! Finally!" Layla jumped right out of her seat.

"Hey, can we see?" Harry asked.

And both of the girls screamed at him, "NO!"

#flatmate!harry

297 notes · View notes

itsclownhours · 4 years

Conversation

merlin as tumblr posts again because when i edited a typo in the original it fucked up the formatting

everyone: you have to make time for yourself

morgana: *stays up until 1 am every night crying* me time

morgana: ohhhh so the pain is forever and endless i get it now

young!mordred: once i learn how to read and write it’s over for you hoes

lancelot, in cursive: i can’t read cursive handwriting

gwaine: what does this say

elyan: i can’t read cursive handwriting

gwaine: bitch me neither that’s why i asked

arthur, to merlin, about lancelot: is he...y’know…*gestures downard to super hell*

uther, straight: hey what’s up guys do you want to go get some food

arthur and morgana, gay: ??????

uther: oh sorry i mean asgdhjdhs guys do you??? want some food??? lmao ashdjdjhs

arthur and morgana: oh! agshdjjshsj yeah lmao agshdj

morgana: do you ever associate the word “girlfriend” with wlw so much that you forget straight boys have girlfriends

gwen: am taking care of a tiny kitten. have given it an excellent name. dad thinks i’m calling her “minty” but this is actually short for The Government

gwen: The Government bit my finger and pooped on the floor

gwaine: peak art is when you were like six and you scribbled all over ms paint and then carefully paintbucketed in all the different shapes in the scribbles to make “stained glass”

morgause: forcing my car to commit sins so it goes to hell with me when i die

leon, after arthur gives the knights a pep talk: so motivational...time to drill a hole in my skull

morgana: i want to be a she really did that!! kind of girl but i don’t do anything

arthur: pros and cons of being my friend:

arthur: pro: you have a friend

arthur: con: it’s me

gwaine, to lancelot: bro let’s watch a horror movie together...bro you look scared do you wanna share a blanket dude? if you wanna hold hands it’s ok. if you wanna rest your head on my shoulder it’s alright bro...bro if you wanna kiss that’s understandable that was a scary movie...we can keep cuddling after the movie is over it’s alright dude…

lancelot: old town road but he just keeps listing all the places he has horses

gwaine: i got the horses in the back

gwaine: horses on the track

gwaine: horses in the shack and i got horses fetching snacks

gwaine: i got the horses in earth’s core

gwaine: down under the floor

gwaine: horses in the store and i got horses on the moor

gwaine: died and came back as a cowboy i call that reintarnation

morgana: *shows up at college* excuse me will someone please direct me to the leftist brainwashing class? i’m here for the leftist brainwashing class

merlin: finally found someone i was more disappointed in that myself: the entirety of america camelot

morgause: customer (derogatory)

arthur: business major (derogatory)

leon: leonardo dicaprio date a woman over 25 challenge

gwaine: thought that said “leonardo da vinci” and was confused since da vinci was gay and also since you were calling out someone who’s been dead for well over 7 years

leon: well. da vinci has been well over 7 years, i’ll give you that

morgana: the retirement age needs to be lowered to 25. i’ve had enough

gwaine: i’m fucking in luigi’s mansion

leon: who?

gwaine: some italian freak

gwaine: oh you meant who am i fucking. your mom

leon: stop setting things on fire because you’re curious about what will happen. what will happen is fire

gwaine: but what if...something else happens. just this 1 time

morgause: bored? burn an orphan. who’re they gonna tell? their parents?

morgana: due to personal reasons i will be a serial arsonist

mithian: fruit (affectionate)

arthur: going to the fruit (derogatory) store do you want anything

gwen: fruit (salad, yummy yummy)

morgana, to gwen: i’m allergic to hookup culture and too weird to participate anyway. die in my arms

kilgharrah: i am fast and full of teeth. i will die in a barn fire

morgana: not evil anymore i want to be loved now

morgana: evil again

morgause: every day i put on my evil little clothes and do my evil little tasks

percival: megan thee stallion and timothee chalamet are the same age

gwaine: megan thee stallion 🤝 timo thee chalamet

morgana: hey how many swords do you have

morgause: sword of a lot

morgana: blocked

morgause: parried

morgana and gwen simultaneously in 1x10: *chanting* girls with swords girls with swords

morgana: the more knives you have the more valid you are

kilgharrah: blocked. blocked. blocked. you’re all blocked. none of you are free from sin.

morgana: seven deadly sins speedrun

gwaine: i want 6 pet sloths so i can name them after every sin except for sloth

merlin: the eighth deadly sin is networking

arthur: online school culture is constantly wondering if there’s a sneaky little assignment you missed...is it tucked under modules or assignments or heaven forbid, announcements? who’s to say?

gaius: asynchronous learning

merlin, a clown: mmmnaptime

arthur: have you ever just cried because you’re you

elyan, to percival: bro, we are teens . it’s ok to cry around me . i’m your best friend . i love you … bro we are kissing now … no don’t stop bro … bro …

morgana: mad bc i was told as the bride my wedding would be “my day” but actually where will be a whole other bride there and we will have to share it

leon: i’m disgusted every time someone does a gender reveal and it’s about a gender i already know about, what kind of reveal is that

leon: gender reveal party??? no, this is a gender repeal party. we out here revoking genders

gwaine: you’re laughing. i asked you who sings party rock anthem and you’re laughing

gwaine: make no mistake not only am i party rocking but i’m also in the house tonight

elyan: are you shuffling?

gwaine: everyday

morgana: lung extensions

morgana: with extended lungs you can: scream longer, breathe harder, brag about extended lungs

morgana: this procedure is not legal but i will do it for you

morgana: do not tell the police or morgause

morgana: i’m so sick of dna, i’m going to have all mine removed

morgause: good news! this is a real thing that can happen to you

morgana: perfect, sign me up

morgana: if YOU die because i poisoned you...how is that MY fault like i’m sorry you aren’t immune to my poisons i think that’s genuinely something you need to work on. fix yourself before blaming others

arthur: my body is NOT a “temple”...it is a CLOWN CAR and NONE OF THESE BITCHES KNOW HOW TO DRIVE

morgause: live

morgause: laugh

morgause: l u r k

mcdonald’s employee: please sir get off the table

gwaine: I ASKED FOR TWO LARGE FRIES *dumping bag of fried out onto the floor* BUT INSTEAD GOT A HUNDRED FUCKEN LITTLE ONES

merlin: i relate to vampires because i too must be clearly and specifically invited in before i have the audacity to try to participate in anything

gwaine: it can’t be september, just yesterday is was marchgustuary

lancelot: today’s date: [REDACTED]/[REDACTED]/20

gwaine: why are internet friends not normalized. it’s 2020 they’re probably making robots that will wipe your ass for you and i can’t text grace in the uk and tell her to have a good day? fuck you

percival: imagine if halsey was in beauty and the beast

elyan: are you insane like gaston. been in pain like gaston. bought a hundred dollar bottle of champagne like gaston

arthur: my dad is learning about pronouns/gender identity and he called me in the middle of the night to tell me he is cis

merlin: ough. those first 400 bites of dirt were not so good. maybe the next one will be better

morgana: i’m at the dark candy store, buying sorrowful ranchers

merlin: i’m surprised no one has ever punched me in the face

gwen: i want a gf so i can send her memes about loving my gf

morgause: oh to cook with my wife and stand directly in front of cabinets and drawers she needs to open

morgause: decided i will no longer be paying taxes. what are they gonna do, tax me more? go ahead. i won’t pay those either. oh i’m going to prison? the one paid for by my tax dollars? sorry, didn’t pay em. now there is no prison. i am at least 3 steps ahead of the government at all times

merlin: lab safety but the teacher just wants to you die

merlin: lab safety: 1. drink whatever’s in that beaker. i know you fucking want to

morgause: my therapist is selling her house so i’m gonna find the listing online and make her living room my zoom backgrounds before our next session. you wanna get in my head? ok well i’m in your home babe. i’m in charge now

morgana: yeah i see why you’re in therapy

morgana: i hate it when people ask me to “explain my thought process” like hell if i know

morgana: what’s going on in that head of yours?” nothing i want to be a part of

mordred: hey girls what’s the hot gossip what’s new what’s the 411

morgana and morgause: everything is bad and getting worse by the day

morgause: common letter greetings from 1889

morgause: dearest my-soon-to-be-enemy

morgause: salutations and i hope you enjoy contact prison

morgause: i hope this letter finds you in a ditch

arthur: *highlights all the wrong and unimportant stuff with full confidence*

merlin: i’ve tried opening my mouth and saying words before and i’ve gotta say, i’m not a fan

morgana: a large group of humans is called a fuck that

website: synonyms for blood: juice

mithian: thank you thesaurus.com, that is absolutely not what i was looking for

gwaine: gen z humor was single-handedly cultivated by the zoo wee mama comic and you can’t convince me otherwise

morgana: screw this it’s halloween now *turns into a swarm of bats them consumes the moon*

morgana: i can’t believe the heterosexuals are gone. they’re gone

uther: we’re still here

arthur: who said that

gwaine: no more france

gwaine: society has progressed passed the need for france

morgause: girls night out (of body experience)

morgana, to morgause: what do you mean “what have i been up to”...i’m out here ruining my own life as always bitch

merlin: stop complaining about your life. there are literally people living in camelot

arthur, trying to find new knights: oh so you’re a human? name three pictures with traffic lights in them

gwaine: we mcfreaking lost her doctor

morgause: looking for a wife in the walmart

morgause: arrested for visiting www.killing.com/murder

gwaine, to merlin: no bro this isn’t a date listen bro

gwaine: it’s bruhnch

morgause, to cenred: if you think i’m not interested, you’re right

gwen: put a pancake on a girl’s head when she’s asleep to keep her warm and safe

morgana: idk what mad scientist needs to hear this today but your goggles and lab coat are incredibly flattering and all your experiments will block away the scientific community who called you a fool

morgause: i’m gonna fucking die disease

morgause: symptoms: back hurts a bit too much for a bit too long

arthur: if you think i’m annoying now wait until i get over my fear of being perceived as annoying

merlin: sorry if i’m bothering you

surgeon: how do you keep waking up and saying that

gwaine: home depot needs more small tunnels for me to crawl through tbh

percival: hot tip: soup is customizable! go wild but know your limits

morgana: brains say “i know a spot” and take you to a traumatic memory from 2011

mithian: “can you multitask” yes actually i am losing my mind and chilling at the same time

morgana: quarantine schedule to keep you on track

morgana: wake up

morgana: neglect online school

morgana: yearn (ongoing project)

morgana: again!

mithian: if cats don’t want to be held like little babies maybe they shouldn’t be roughly the size and shape of little babies

morgause: fuck this pandemic i could’ve ruined 2020 on my own

morgana: a cute girl told me she has lots of plants in her house and i told her for some fucking reason “damn the oxygen at your place must be mad crisp” and somehow still got her number so. chase your dreams. nothing is impossible apparently

morgana: oh to wear a knife strapped against my thigh beneath a silk dress

morgana, running off with morgause at the end of season 2: i hate this place i want to go to build a bear

morgana, at work: i’m evil

morgana, 1 second after clocking out: not evil anymore i want to be loved now

morgana, the next day at work: evil again

season 2 morgana: i am fine thank you for asking! though recently there has been a darkness growing within me

morgause: *thinks about love* okay well i am just losing my mind and being insane now

arthur: you think you can hurt my feelings? i’ve been the least favorite in every single friendship group i’ve had since i was 8

morgana, staring out the window at arthur and merlin: look at them plotting my downfall

mithian: i wanna buy clown noses in bulk and start sticking them on every person i see whose mask is pulled too low

mithian: oh to be a tiny cat whose biggest concern is the looming threat of being gently picked up and kissed on the head

morgana: i deserve to be kissed

morgana: did you have a homoerotic friendship with a girl in high school that ended in tragedy and you two are never talking again or are you normal?

mithian: just diagnosed with forehead kiss deficiency :/

morgana: i think i’ll continue to wear a mask when this shit’s all over, and huge sunglasses. my face is none of your business

morgause: my therapist told me that sometimes when a person consumes the same piece of media over and over they may be unconsciously coping with a mental block so now i’m trying to figure out what the fuck i was going through that made me watch ratatouille 8 times a day for a solid month in middle school

morgause: opposite of depression nap. depression awakeness. refreshing the same three websites over and over. there’s nothing new on any of them. eight seconds have passed and it feels like a century

morgana: very homophobic that my head is not laying on the chest of my maidservant as i am drifting off to sleep

merlin: no no, it’s fine, i’ll text myself back

morgana: *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns*

arthur: i’d have to be a fool not to? being a fool and not doing things are my top two activities

gwaine: you think it’s easy to be me? you think it’s easy to get up every. single. day. and be an industrial grade dumbass? well it’s not. but that’s what i do. and i’ll never stop.

morgana: ah shit i’m sorry man, my schedule for the week is all booked

sunday: yearn

monday: pine

tuesday: long

wednesday: ache

thursday: sigh

friday: lament

saturday: crave

morgana: talents include: being a public menace, denying God’s will, petting dogs, yearning, being dramatic, witchcraft, quoting classic literature when no one asked, napping, befriending a murder of crows, being gay, covering up my emotions by being “the funny friend” when in reality i’m really going through it, wistfully staring out the car window

merlin: *doesn’t even do the bare minimum* all in a day’s work

cenred: a “period” is not an excuse to have an attitude

morgause: i miss the times when men would go to war and die

morgana: the cheap halloween vampire fangs stay ON during sex

gwen: maybe i pspspspsp’ed you because i love you. did you think of that? huh?

morgana: mom said it’s my turn to hand out the ominous and vague warnings

arthur: that wasn’t mom

uther: she JUST SAID it was her turn

morgause: i’m a chill person but if my back doesn’t stop hurting i’m going to take out my spine and beat God with it

mithian: one of these days i’m going to say the f word

mithian: then you’ll all be sorry

morgause: 3 words every girl wants to hear

morgause: club penguin membership

morgana: hmm, yes.

morgana: time to s i p

morgana: some *~crispy~*

morgana: d i h y d r o g e n m o n o x i d e

morgause: roll call! raise your hand if you’re in the following fandoms:

morgause: 1. suffering 2. the pain of living

morgana: *raises both hands and a leg*

leon: it’s so hard being a single mom when you have no kids and are a male teenager

merlin: yeah bro hit me up and we’ll cancel some plans sometime

morgana: my brain, or as i like to call it, the suffer contraption

morgause: my circle so small i almost cut myself off

morgause hyping herself up before entering any public area: i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal

arthur: today in french we learned how to say “what’s in the bag” and i couldn’t stop laughing because

arthur: swaggity swag qu’est-ce qui dans le sac

merlin: even when i am not speaking, know that horrible sentences are raging within me

mithian in 5x04: sorry bro i can’t go out tonight. i’m stuck in an eternal state of melancholy

morgause: shower gel label: immerse yourself in this new “Me Time” luxury frooty tooty. abandon all sense of identity and dissolve your memories into this soothing chemical broth. one billion melons are in this tube...use them wisely

leon, writing a headline about the most recent knights’ mission: local dumbasses knew that what they were getting themselves into and did it anyways

morgana: *feels random pain in body*

morgana: kill me

mithian: *slowly inches closer to your pet*

morgause: *refuses to look at texts* i love conversation and communication

arthur: cute gender neutral things to call your partner

arthur: significant annoyance

leon: the most unrealistic fantasy trope is the one where half of the pair works in some sort of shop and one is a customer because i have literally never thought about a customer with anything other than contempt

gwaine: why is everyone talking about 1d all of a sudden did one of them die

elyan: they’re 10 years old now

gwaine: i wish them luck 4th grade is tough!!

gwaine: must i pursue a career? is it not enough to be passionate about tv shows and snack foods?

leon, aroace: cool date idea: me eating oatmeal by myself

morgana: i have no self of steam

gwaine: i hate wearing a mask. i miss being able to gently kiss my trader joe’s cashier on the lips after they ring up my $8 box of blueberries

morgana: committing acts of violence today…*pushes morgause’s glass of water off the counter*

gwaine: mario will do anything to put a smile on your face

morgana: haha we get along so well...our brains just work the same way

morgause, after changing her entire personality to match morgana’s after analyzing the way she talks and texts: haha yeah it’s incredible

gwaine: covered in sauce, trembling

arthur: *says the vaguest most incoherent shit ever*

arthur: you know what i mean :/

[online]

morgana: *screenshots things her girlfriend said to her so she can read it again later* yeah i’m not gay

uther: dude no offence i don’t want to sound like an sjw or anything but if you have a girlfriend you’re straight. that’s just how it works

morgana: i’m a girl

uther: what the fuck

morgana: the second you say “family group chat” i know we are not the same

gwen: what if early in the morning after buying groceries we got caught in the rain and i used my jacket to cover your head ut we still got soaked and we made a fire at home and brewed tea and sat together watching the rain as our cats hid under our feets at each sound of thunder and we ate stew for dinner and watched tv until we fell asleep on the couch with your head resting on my shoulder

gwaine, to percival: hold my hand bro we’re crossing the street

percival: imageine if we all just started ignoring celebrities though

percival: i can’t stop thinking about how funny this would be. imagine kyie jenner posting a selfie and it gets 12 likes

morgana: this isn’t fun anymore i need a kiss

morgause at 1159 pm: life’s great lol

morgause at 1201 am: does anyone really know me? most importantly do i really know me? what if life doesn’t get better than this?

merlin: king i needbfjdjgnjfg qldkr snmsmdjgjt ….. .. i need--fjrjkrhgphpqn dd

arthur: huh *dunks merlin’s head back underwater*

morgana: i don’t go to therapy or take any pills i just rawdog life and let my brain turn into soup

mordred: dark emails

morgause: to whom it WILL concern

morgana: now that this email has found you

gwaine: hi waiter could i get the spaghetti i promise i’ll behave this time

merlin: the sexiest thing about me? everything hurts my feelings

gwaine: how is sex fun if i have to remove my crocs to have it

elyan: if he makes you remove your crocs for sex he isn’t the one

morgause: a motherfucker could use an embrace

morgana: every night after 10pm my feelings start crawling out, starved, as i beat them with a moderately large stick vigorously hissing “stay back” until i inevitably fall asleep

fanfiction: there’s only one room available…

morgause, who specifically chose a rated m and explicit story: oh my gosh there’s only one room they’re gonna share a bed what’s gonna happen next

morgana: i can have a little unrealistic romantic fantasy. as a treat

arthur: some of y’all weren’t asked out as a joke in middle school and it shows

morgana: how is everyone doing. i’ll go first i’m doing badly

morgana: being a kid was so fucking funny we’d just go around lying to each other’s faces constantly to impress each other one of the knights told me he was the first person to visit the sun and when i asked him what it was like to prove he was lying he said he didn’t remember because they sent him there when he was a baby and to this day the mental image of nasa launching an unsupervised baby into the sun still makes me crack up

elyan: do you wish you were seeing somebody

leon: a therapist

morgause: when you see someone from high school and they don’t recognize you that’s the exact opposite of the mortifying ordeal of being known. the gratifying relief of being forgotten

[texting]

morgana: you seem hard to kill

morgause: aw thank you

morgause: i haven’t been killed yet

morgana: to your knowledge

morgause: what

morgana: just truly bonkers how much i love lying down……..like being horizontal? Unparalleled

arthur: when i was younger i really thought that piranhas were going to be a bigger issue for me than they’ve turned out to be

morgause: filling out the depression and anxiety checkboxes at the doctors is always so sad but also very very funny

morgause: i am handed a piece of paper. i check off a box that says “every day i wish i were dead”. i hand back the paper. the paper and its contents are never again discussed.

morgana: unfortunately, due to several experiences in my youth, i cannot just “walk up and join the circle of people talking”, but it does sound lovely thank you

morgana: if california is so expensive why don’t you move to somewhere like ohio

morgause: full offense but i’d rather be dead in california than alive in ohio

morgause: ugly and uninspiring--review of ohio

morgana: staying up late not even fun anymore it’s just sad

morgause: everyone should be comfortable in their own skin :)

morgause’s brain: except for you

morgause: except for me :)

mithian: please peer pressure me into finishing projects

merlin: do it or you’re straight

mithian: i said peer pressure not threaten

morgause: the year is 2030. bakery art is so realistic, literally anything could be cake. the uncertainty has gripped the world in fear. i go to hug my wife for comfort. she is cake.

morgause: i sob in despair as i eat my cake wife. she is delicious

gwen: do ladies love stupid men or do they just love men who don’t exhaust every opportunity to feel smart

gwen: “i used to think that melancholy was a vegetable” that’s incredible, let’s hang out more

morgause: basically i accidentally listened to a song a few years ago and it led to this

morgana: *desperately tries to romanticise her homework*

uther: do i have to be pretty? is it not enough to simply be the loudest person in the room with the worst opinions

morgana: oh i can’t possibly study, i have allotted the next six hours to yearning vaguely

morgause: allow me to de-introduce myself

morgause: my name is [redacted]

arthur: i have no good posts today i’m sorry guys

merlin: haha “today”

mordred: “do we perhaps use magic because we were bullied and needed blah blah special interest blah blah” shut the FUCK up i use magic to see my anime husband’s big fucking honkers. sorry you got pantsed in front of your crush

morgana: i came here to bully people

mordred: is it because you got pantsed in front of your crush

morgana: no it’s because i’m deranged

mithian: pretty sure seven deadly sins is a bit excessive

mithian: just combine wrath and gluttony and make hangry

mithian: sloth and pride make Bottoming

morgana: despicable me ruined the word minion whenever i become a supervillain i’m just going to have to call them my homies or whatever

gwen: as a bisexual i am attracted to lanky boys with dark hair, girls who look like they could kill me, and anyone wearing vampire teeth

morgana: if someone tried to assassinate me that would make me feel so important and valued and beloved

gwaine: turn down for whom?

mithian: fact: usage of the word “the” has begun to decline. this is because as more and more people become educated, usage of the word “thoum’st” has become more common.

morgana, kidnapping mithian in 5x04: truth or dare? uhhh i dare you to………………………………..fall in love with me. haha i’m just joking bro………………..unless…………………………?

gwaine: my thoughts are like a clearance sale

gwaine: once it’s gone it’s gone

morgana: *pronounces “hors d’oeuvres” as “horse divorce” specifically to piss off morgause*

gwaine: do you prefer women or men?

leon: death

morgause: honestly no offense but i love falling asleep and sleeping. it’s like. ok goodnight

morgause: ngl it’s kinda difficult to be the moody and mysterious background character in everyone’s life when you’re quarantined at home

morgause: i need to get laid

morgause: --to rest. put me in a coffin, let my soul ascend

gwaine: it takes a lot of heart to be this stupid

gwaine: it takes real strength not to know shit about fuck

elyan: what’s your favorite anime?

leon: i’m a christian

arthur: just bought this tapeworm from etsy!

lancelot: where are you gonna keep it

arthur: :)

merlin: i don’t like this conversion very much

gwaine: i’m home alone with the tv repair man

gwaine: i’m no fool, there are only two possible outcomes of this scenario

gwaine: porn or murder

gwaine, an hour later: apparently there was an unforeseen third outcome where he fixes the tv and then leaves

morgause: well tomorrow fucking sucked

morgana: dark brunch

morgana: *mixes a mimosa with evil intent*

morgause: this is just what being gay is like

gwaine: movie idea: guy finds a stone tablet engraved with a mysterious alien language and gets caught up in a national treasure-esque adventure to decipher its meaning, only to learn that it’s just an alien “live laugh love” decoration

arthur: sorry i didn’t mean to open your ig story 20 seconds after you posted i’m just unemployed

arthur: why do you say men are objects? that’s not true and hurtful

morgana: men are on sale at the grocery store for a few dollars

cenred: why do you say men are objects? that’s not true and hurtful

morgause: men are on sale at the grocery store for a few dollars

morgana: wow would you look at that. it’s already that time of the night where i move the stuff on my bed to my chair. can’t wait until tomorrow when i move the stuff from my chair back onto my bed

gwaine: hi i’m bethany with girl defined ministry and today we are going to be talking about how to stan my chemical romance in a God-honoring way

morgana: bottom: ,,, !!! ;;; vers: …. top: no punctuation whatsoever

morgause: tops are illiterate

morgause: i slept for almost 12 hours but i might still be tired so let’s go for 12 more just in case

morgana: morgause that’s a coma

morgause: sounds festive

mithian: i am a simple woman. i enter the kitchen. i eat four servings of bread products. i leave.

gwaine: it’s one serving if you serve all of it to yourself

mithian: i like the way you think, friend

gwaine: spencer from icarly and rodrick from diary of a wimpy kid are on the opposite ends of the same spectrum

elyan: the gay older brother scale

merlin: i found a rock :)

merlin: my troubles will soon be over

gwaine: parasite (2019) dir. bong joon ho

percival: uncut gems (2019) dir. josh and benny safdie

elyan: cain

morgana: social distancing is okay for me bc i’ve been touch starved since the 15th century. i’m used to it

mithian: fanfiction hits different when you’re gay and yearning and haven’t experienced an ounce of romance in your life

morgause: callout for rude baby seen at grocery store

morgause: i’m calling out a baby (approximately 12-14 months old) from the grocery store due to its rudeness. i’m guessing its age based on appearance, motor skills (atrocious) and whatnot. anyway, i smiled at this baby and it just stared at me. as soon as i began to move on, though, the baby said “no!” and started giggling when i turned back around. this happened multiple times. the baby’s actions were toxic and manipulative. the baby was also manhandling a package of dried fruit which wasn’t yet paid for (quite minor) and was just generally sitting around and not helping

gwen: we need to melt down all the pennies and make the statue of liberty a girlfriend

morgause: had a realization in a dream i just had that this isn’t real and i can just do whatever i want and so i started shrinking the face of this guy that was talking to me and then once it got real small i woke up sleep paralyzed

morgause: i was given godlike powers over the universe by realizing it’s all in my head and the first thing i did was use them to torment the nearest man

morgause: and the actual God woke me up and put be into a 5 minute timeout to lay frozen and think about what i’ve done

morgana: does anyone else feel an awkward tension whenever you see another person your age in the grocery store

gwaine: the number 87 kinda looks like a plague doctor

percival: you’ve just changed the fucking game

elyan: [|87

morgana: a lonely bitch...a loner...i love isolation AND detachment

gwaine: i will not call the judges “your honor”. in america we don’t have titles of nobility. they will get a simple “yes dude” from me

gwaine: calling big bird just “bird” because i do not respect him

morgause: *photo of a pizza in a bad* caught the bae sleepin

mordred: now why would you waste a perfectly good pizza :(

morgause: that “waste” happens to be my wife getting her beauty sleep. think before you speak

gwaine: *finishes wedding vows* don’t forget to like and subscribe

morgana: *is bitter but is also right*

morgana: how dare you not notice me when i’m ignoring you

morgause, killing cenred: men be like i’m bilingual i speak english and over women

gwaine: after i move i really wanna get a used roomba

percival: i love that you’re adopting instead of buying from a breeder

mordred: joking about a kink is a gateway drug into developing said kink

morgana: my kink is mental, emotional, and financial stability

morgause: unrealistic, settle for choking like normal people

gaius: gay people use halloween props as home decor year round

morgana: shut up shut up this black jar with a raven painted on it is holiday-neutral

[texting]

morgause: can you come out?

morgana: yeah gimme a minute

morgana: morgause, i’m gay

morgause: i know that. come out to the car

morgana: car, i’m gay

morgause: God FUCKING damnit i’m such a hopeless romantic one day someone’s gonna say “i love you” and i’m just going to let out an agonized scream so horrible that they immediately change their mind

gaius: i’m not wearing glasses anymore i’ve seen enough

morgause: sorry my battery’s on 96% i gtg

morgause: you hate me? wow you think you’re hot shit and original huh well i hated me first so you can go grab a number and wait your turn

morgana: don’t ignore me ?? i despise being ignored ?? i mean i’m ignoring like 8 people right now but still ???

morgana: shoutout to my favorite coping mechanism, isolation

morgana: the concept of physical beauty is a scam unless you’re calling me cute in which case it is valid, actually

merlin: oh, so when other people go outside it’s “good for their health” and “highly recommended”, it’s only when i do it that it’s a “containment breach” and a “high-level threat to public safety and security”, huh?

gwaine: a charming photo of young john mulaney, seemingly celebrating the kennedy assassination

merlin: princess diana wasn’t john mulaney’s first kill

morgause: hate when i got out in public and the public is there

morgana: it seems the public is no longer in the public

morgause: i’ve won...but at what cost?

morgana: girls will see a chance to commit arson and be like “sorry, i have to take this”

morgause: girls will see a building that’s not on fire and say “is anyone gonna burn that” and not wait for an answer

#puff does things #long post

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incoherentbabblings · 4 years

Text

Take Back the Cake, Burn the Shoes, and Boil the Rice (8/11)

Within two months there have been two murders of Gotham newlyweds moments after the ceremony. The only connecting factor was both brides wore the same designer’s work. Needing to establish who exactly is behind the crimes, Bruce enlists Tim and Stephanie to have the biggest wedding Gotham high society has seen in decades, putting a target on their heads not just for the killer, but Gotham society too. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

Ao3 Link Here!

“Tim? Open up.”

It was Steph, calling for him to get out of his slumber, but sleep still beckoned, so he rolled onto his back, breathing heavily. Her hand rose to hold his cheek, and the slight shake he felt as she did it made him open his eyes.

She was leaning over him, giving off enough heat to be a furnace, blonde hair creating a golden curtain around them. She was smiling, so Tim smiled back.

“Feeling better?” He asked.

“Yup. You have a way with words.”

“I meant your leg.”

“Oh. Nah, that hurts. Head too. I’ll live though.” She shifted, resting one hand next to his ear on the pillow, and then she moved down, placing her head on his chest. For a solid three minutes, they lay in silence, Stephanie draped across Tim, listening to his pulse. She sighed happily. To her, Tim’s heartbeat and it’s solid thumping was instantly calming.

“Yesterday was difficult.” She said, eyes shut.

“We all have them.”

“Yeah but –”

“I swear Stephanie Brown if you apologise one more time…” His voice was threatening, but only in a way that served to make her laugh.

“What will you do?”

“I haven’t thought of it yet. Too early in the morning.” He shifted, still too comfortable to rise. “Actions speak louder than words and all that…��

“I'll be better. I am better.” Stephanie murmured. She wiped at his eyes, displacing any crusty sleep that had formed. The thumb movement turned to her stroking his cheek, and she moved up, until their noses were touching. Tim went a little cross eyed and swallowed, and Stephanie laughed at his expression. Cheeks feeling warm, she asked,

“You still want me to come today? With you to work?”

“Always.”

Bashful all of a sudden, both Tim and Stephanie’s cheeks blushed pink, and to find a way out, Tim glanced at the clock, seeing it had gone eight am.

“Ah. Better get ready now.”

It was Stephanie’s turn to gulp. He kissed her forehead, then got out of bed.

“Can you stand? I guess I should have checked that first.”

Stephanie swung one leg out of bed, and then the left followed, much more stiffly than the other. She hoisted herself up, wincing a little. Biting her lip, she gave a soft curse, but then placed both feet firmly on the floor.

“Stand? Yes. Stand for long? Questionable.” She laid a hand on the bedside table. “Tell me what to wear. Are you wearing a suit?”

“God, no. It’s just a kids club. Jeans and t-shirt will be fine, Steph.”

She chewed her lip, a little uncertainty returning. “Okay,” She stated. “But I’m gonna curl my hair.”

Tim sat, quite content to just watch, as Steph perched herself on the lip of the bathtub, curling and pinning her hair just so, desperate to make a good impression.

There was something genuinely impressive about watching Tim do something as banal as giving a little speech and unveiling a plaque, but Stephanie was a little in awe regardless. She spent much of the event a little smug at the thought that this handsome guy loved her. When the plaque was unveiled to much polite laughter and clapping (his dorky jokes were horrendous and she found herself smiling at every single one), Stephanie wobbled over to a younger group of kids whilst Tim and the adults spoke. They were sat in a semi-circle, a few with their parents. She collapsed with a slight grunt, ensuing her hurt leg stayed straight, and tried to smile brightly. A few gave polite smiles back, whilst one or two looked unsure of what she wanted from them. Stephanie recognized one of the mothers from Leslie’s clinic down the road. Half a bodyguard, half a receptionist. She was an actual hoot, and familiar enough of a face that Steph could at least find a way to break the ice with the parents and their children.

“Hi!” Stephanie chirped, directed at everyone.

A young girl blinked, then scrambled upwards, yoinking on her mother’s hair.

“Mommy! She gave me candy last month!”

The mother winced, trying delicately to remove the sticky grip of a six-year-old from her hair. She looked to Stephanie the very definition of tired.

“I doubt it honey.” She soothed.

“Oh?” Steph asked, “At Amusement Mile? You were with your dad?”

“Yes! Cotton candy bigger than my head!”

“Yes!” Stephanie laughed. “Wow, what a memory you have!”

The girl preened at the compliment, whilst the mom’s shrew look turned a little softer. Leslie’s receptionist leaned over with a side hug. She was a large woman, both in height and weight, and it was in total contrast to her little boy, who was the very definition of a wall flower.

“You didn’t mention you were coming!” Stephanie was rocked from side to side, and she grew bashful.

“I know, I know. It was last minute.”

The little girl demanded attention back on her, and wriggled her way right into Steph’s face. “You’re getting married soon my mom says.”

“I am. A week and a half to go.”

The little girl giggled. “Are you wearing a tiara?”

“Flowers.”

“No! You’d look better in a tiara!” Then the girl, brazenly but also impressively, began to tug Stephanie’s curls. Her mother looked mortified, but her little girl just seemed exuberant. Stephanie let her be, besides, she wasn’t hurting anyone.

“I have a pretty big dress, we thought it might be too much…”

Another little girl gasped and began to crowd round Stephanie. She built a little audience as she talked, but the boys were uninterested in weddings, so did not engage.

Leslie’s receptionist grew a little sober as Stephanie indulged the children, “But you’re still going for the cathedral?”

“Yes.” Stephanie by that point had a girl clambering on her back. She tugged the girl upwards, trying to ignore the pain in her head. “The Dean thought it would be good, to show whoever did it that we’re not frightened.”

“Any idea of who did shoot?”

Stephanie only shook her head. “It’s supposed to be a happy moment, right? Think our stubbornness has kicked in.”

“You did well,” One mother cut in tentatively, “Sitting with Bishop Sherborne.”

Stephanie swallowed dryly, unsure of how to respond. “It shouldn’t have happened.” She adjusted the little girl on her back, holding her up higher. “So, you guys all go to the school round the corner, right?”

“Right!” Chirped Stephanie’s clingy monkey. “Mommy works a lot. At the hospital!”

“My mom does too!”

The three hours passed quickly enough, Tim doing a lot of talking with adults and Steph spending most her time with the kids and their parents. For the first time in a while, she felt comfortable. She could tell photos were being taken, but there was something reassuring about the validation of children. This part of his job Tim loved, and Stephanie could only agree. These were the people they were fighting to protect, not their own ego, and this was a good reminder. She understood why Tim had thrown himself into this job as much as he had Red Robin. If he was worried about forgetting himself, she hoped this job would have sufficed as a reminder.

A reminder of why he was allowing himself to forget.

Steph sighed, growing a little melancholy, as she hoisted herself off a chair, wobbling over to Tim. He was chatting to a man and a lady, one with a notepad, the other with a recorder.

She stood, off to the side, feeling awkward and unwilling to interrupt. She watched Tim for what felt like a long while. She watched his sharp eyes flitter from person to person, flashing with sardonic humour at every silly question, and how seriously he listened to people when they spoke to him. Tim was a good listener. Very non-judgmental. Even though she sometimes wondered…

His gaze caught hers, and with a tilt of his jaw, he beckoned her over. When she reached him, he gave her his arm to help her balance, and he supported her against every micro-aggressive comment that was thrown their way. It was only when Tim’s phone rang – Bruce on the line – that they had to bring the event (or at least their attendance) to an end.

When Stephanie waved goodbye, a member of staff approached.

“I’m so sorry, if this is presumptive…”

“No? No, can I help?”

“Just, if you have spare time…” Spare time was something Stephanie was having increasingly less of in recent days, although this leg injury had certainly opened her evenings for the next week. No doubt it would be taken up with catching up with college, which she had blatantly been skipping.

“I would love to come back. I can…” She looked around the space, “play with the kids or…”

“You volunteer at Leslie’s?”

“Yeah.”

“You can do some simple first aid stuff with them?”

Her first instinct was to laugh at the idea of showing a five-year-old how to do CPR, but then Steph remembered what kinds of homes these kids came from, and the idea of teaching them how to look after themselves and others suddenly made sense. She nodded her confirmation.

“Sounds good. I’ll see if Leslie has anything for kids that I could work on.”

“Just come in whenever you like to discuss further – one of us will always be about.”

Tim mouthed a thank you and off the couple went. As they left the building, Alfred was waiting for them with a car. Tim huffed. He had wanted to check on how Steph had felt coming with him, but Bruce had called and asked them to come to the manor. Stephanie, who for her part, was becoming a little unsteady on her feet, grimaced at the sight of the car.

“Where we going?” She asked.

Alfred’s moustache twitched imperceptibly. “Having seen your condition Miss Brown, back to bed for you.”

“I’m alright.”

Tim snorted, and Stephanie looked back to him, affronted. “I am! Honest.”

As if God had heard her, her leg gave way, with Alfred and Tim reaching to catch her. She made a weird noise as Tim tugged her back up, and she stood on one foot, the weaker tilted off to the side above the ground.

“I think, Steph, Bruce wants to speak to me privately anyway.”

“Oh.”

Alfred held out his arm for Stephanie to take. “I will drive you back down the road and get you in bed, then I’m afraid we’re off to the Manor.”

Gritting her teeth in a tense grimace, she took Alfred’s arm, and hopped down to the car. She looked back at Tim before she got in, and gave him as bright a smile as she could manage, trying to thank him.

When Alfred returned for Tim, the mood distinctly shifted without Stephanie there to lighten everyone up. Maybe Alfred shared Bruce’s opinion. For some reason Tim felt like he was being driven into a prison for death row inmates. A one-way trip.

Tim knew where this conversation with Bruce was going to go, but only if he let it. Tim had something else on his mind, one that had been a growing thought ever since Bishop Sherborne had died.

Bruce was downstairs, only half in costume, when Tim loudly trod down the steps. Damian was nowhere to be found, so Tim could only assume Dick had taken custody of him that day.

Whatever programme Bruce had been working on at the computer, he closed before Tim get could get a good look. Tim reached the control panel and waited for Bruce to acknowledge him. Bruce seemed to be deep in thought, for once not pretending to work on something else to occupy his time.

Tim waited.

“How is Stephanie today?” Bruce finally asked. A gentle question. Tim started, again taken aback by how openly Bruce cared for her. Ever since Bruce had seen Steph step into Batgirl, he’d been almost enamoured with her. No, not the right word. But Tim saw how he was trying to make up for past mistakes, and Steph, soft hearted no matter how much she would deny it, had allowed Bruce to do so.

“She’s better. I took her to the Park Row Community Centre this morning. They’ve asked her back to help with the kids. She liked it… I think.”

“Good. And her injuries?”

“She was tired at the end. Alfred took her back home.”

Something in Bruce’s face twitched at Tim’s casual statement of his apartment being Stephanie’s home.

“Do you understand what you did wrong yesterday?”

Tim turned away, seeing the pleasantries were over. “I told you once. This is me, for better or worse.”

“I don’t know if I believe that.”

Jesus, he was sounding just like Stephanie.

Dick had once said that people were not their worst moments. How he believed that whilst knowing Bruce for twenty years Tim didn’t know. Bruce was defined by his worst moments, and Tim supposed this was a growing similarity that he and Bruce shared.

Tim cracked his fingers, trying to keep his temper in check. His chest felt frozen, and his feet too heavy to shuffle.

“Do you really think I’m going to kill somebody one day?”

Bruce said nothing, only looked at Tim. Tim, in his jeans and t-shirt and messy hair. Tim, who was looking more well rested than he had in months, but who still looked so out of place within the manor and confused at his position within the family. He looked like someone who had just turned twenty and didn’t know what to do with themselves. Such a contrast to when he was thirteen and had forced his way into Bruce and Dick’s lives.

Tim seemed to take Bruce’s silence as confirmation, rather than the uncertainty it was. Suddenly he moved closer to Bruce, hands out imploringly.

“I know I’ve been… off… for months now. But I… I’m trying to get back on track.”

“Are you?”

Tim blinked, lowering his hands.

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me what’s been ‘off’ with you. And what you’re doing ‘to get back on track’.” Bruce glared like he knew Tim was just trying to weasel his way out of taking any responsibility for himself. Tim truly didn’t think he was doing wrong, so ignoring the flash of very hot anger he saw in Tim, Bruce tried a different tact.

“Did Stephanie say anything about last night? Does she know about Har—”

“Don’t.” Tim interrupted tersely. He was sneering now to which Bruce stared at Tim hard in response.

“Don’t what?” He wanted a specific answer, but what it was, Tim didn’t know. “If you’ve done nothing wrong then she should know. Right?”

Bruce was mocking him.

“Don’t use her to punish me! Just stop that with her. I don’t care if you think I did wrong or that I lost my temper. That’s my issue. And she shouldn’t hear about it from you to make me feel guilty.” Finally, Tim opened the floodgates, and he launched into a frantic and scattered rant. “I’m not the one who should be feeling guilty! You said you would solve this case and two months later you have nothing to show for it! Bishop Sherborne is dead, three couples are dead, Stephanie got hurt because of a mission assigned by you that is stressing her out and I’m the one trying to pick up the pieces! What the hell are you even doing? Why haven’t you caught this guy yet?”

“That’s not what we’re talking about, Tim.”

“Well I’m asking you! I’m telling you, hurry up!”

Bruce finally stood. Even with Tim’s late teen growth spurt Bruce still towered over him, and Tim couldn’t help but want to increase the distance between the two.

“Take a breath.” Bruce said. “Try to calm down.”

Tim jolted, suddenly aware of his stinging eyes and wobbly breath. Fuck. He grunted, and backed away, pressing his palms to his cheeks, hoping the pressure would cool him down. Bruce looked on, concerned. Tim was knee deep in denial and frightening him wasn’t going to make him see reason. Out of resentment of being told what to do, Tim’s chest continued to rattle with wet deep breaths.

“I’m not using Stephanie.” Bruce said.

“Yes… you are. And don’t…act like she’s not your golden girl right now and I’m…”

“You’re my kid, who I’m worried about.”

Tim snorted then sniffed, expression crumpling. Bruce watched and waited. Tim bit his lip, not sure what to say. Shuffling his feet, he moved to the desk and sat down on the surface, wringing his hands nervously.

“I’m sorry. For yesterday. I don’t want you to worry about me.” Bruce sat next to Tim, seeing they were getting somewhere. It wasn’t a proper apology, not for his actions, only their effects, but it was a start. “Steph and I spoke after. She said she worries sometimes too.”

“You don’t think we’re right to?”

Tim frowned, looking at nothing. He gulped, trying to get his thoughts in order, but Bruce was pushing every single one of his buttons, and his mind was frantic and flustered.

Remember how much you didn’t want to be Bruce but how much of him you admired and imitated, remember that Batman with a gun and how he made points you agreed with, remember trying to rationalise murder and how vindictive you felt holding Harkness’s life in your hands, remember how many times you lost your temper when Stephanie or her memory where threatened.

Remember telling Cassandra that you didn’t enjoy hurting people, remember the relief and joy you felt being hugged by Bart, Conner and Cassie when you called for their help after so long, remember train surfing with Dick and the pure joy it brought after the first time he called you little brother.

Remember sitting on Steph’s front porch, telling her you feared where Bruce was forcing your mind to go, cruel suspicious places that doubted the people closest to you. Remember her listening, eyebrows furrowed, as you told her you were quitting. Remember quietly asking if that meant she wouldn’t want you anymore, only for her to laugh in response at the ridiculousness of the question.

“My feelings about you aren’t based on the Robin suit.” She’d said.

You’d told her you were frightened, but you were getting back in the suit. She had passed no judgement, only very quietly nodded and said that she knew.

Tim lowered his head into his hands, not sure what to do. What to say.

“I’m miserable.” Tumbled out.

He couldn’t see it, but he felt and heard Bruce’s breathing stumble.

Stephanie meanwhile had endured a very boring afternoon. After a long period of time on the sofa, leg elevated in the air, she stared through to the kitchen. Tim had a sad looking fruit bowl, filled with browning bananas and a slightly wrinkly bunch of grapes. She hoisted herself up, college papers falling to the floor, and toddled over, intent on munching on whatever she could get her hands on to stave off the boredom for a bit.

When Tim returned, she was wondering if the kitchen had a loaf tin so she could make banana bread. She smiled at him politely as he walked down the steps to the main living and kitchen area, a little oblivious to his mood.

“I really enjoyed this morning, you know? You have to take me along to other stuff like that. And your speech was so good! You are one charismatic guy, not to boost your ego… But it was just nice Tim! So nice!”

Tim had stopped near a side table, a good distance from her, as she praised him. He tried to smile, but he caught the panic in her expression as a response. Oh, he must have looked bad.

“Tim? What is it?” She pushed off the kitchen counter to give herself momentum. “What did Bruce say?”

Tim shook his head as Steph got close. She clung to his forearms, using him to hold herself up. “Tim? Tell me. Can I help?”

He was looking pale again, sad and withdrawn. “I messed up last night.”

“If you did that it was my fault first. You said it yourself, last night was difficult. No pity parties.”

“I was going to kill that man.”

“You… you wouldn’t have.” She pulled herself closer, trying to make Tim hold her. With one hand she reached up, the pads of her fingers touching his chin and lower lip. “You couldn’t Tim.”

He stared at her despairingly. “How do you know? You keep saying that you know me. Ever since we were kids you’ve said that. But I… I don’t. You don’t know what I…”

“Ssshhh.” She murmured, trying to calm him down. Her fingers moved from his lips to her own, then back again. Tim did not miss the kiss it implied, and his heart broke a little at the tender affection. “Oh Tim… You’re just going to have to trust me on that.”

“Easier said than done with you.”

“Rude.” She teased, but then her mood abruptly sobered, thinking of the past few weeks. “I think Tim, that the world really wants us to suffer sometimes.”

“Oh, I believe that.”

“But you help me. That’s what you do. Let me do the same?”

Stephanie leaned forward to rest her chin on Tim’s shoulder. It quickly turned into an embrace, Tim finally wrapping his arms around her and burying his face into her hair. They rocked from side to side for a while. Tim stared over Steph, looking straight at the piano sat next to the fish tank. Another memory came to mind, and things started to click into place.

“We help each other.” He said distantly.

Another soft laugh. “Well, we can try. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Stephanie pulled back, just a little, so that their noses were touching. There was something she had wanted from Tim last night, but, ever the gentleman, he had said no. Maybe he thought she was too loopy on painkillers, maybe he thought she wouldn’t want it in the morning, or maybe he thought she hadn’t taken their conversation to heart.

All Tim had done was show her how invested he was. She wanted to pay him back.

“Is it okay now?” She whispered.

“Huh?”

“To kiss you. For real?”

Tim narrowed his eyes a little suspiciously. “Don’t do something because you feel you have to. You don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to.”

“With you in this space right now, Tim, I do want to… Do you?”

A shared breath passed, then Tim surged forward. God, how he’d wanted. The force of the kiss made Steph back up, tailbone smacking against the kitchen counter, but she squealed with delight, wrapping her arms around Tim, blatantly groping his shoulder muscles. He meanwhile had moved to holding her neck with one hand and an arm wrapped around her waist. That hand travelled down, down, down, to the thigh of her good leg. He hiked her up, so she could rest on the counter, legs spreading to let him get closer.

He then kissed her cheeks, her nose, and her mouth again, all the while Stephanie smiled in a way she hadn’t for what felt like a very long time. They kissed once more, open mouthed this time, and the movements got slower and heavier. When Tim moved away, down to her neck, she shivered, then pushed very gently at him to stop for a moment. If they kept going, they were about to start necking. Although she used to thoroughly enjoy Tim’s attentions when he was in the right mood, she didn’t feel ready to return to that stage with him, regardless of how good the whole thing currently made her feel.

He looked at her, pupils swollen and inky, and she shuddered.

“Just… just a kiss Tim.”

As if on demand, his pupils shrank back down to normal, and his breathing returned to steady after he gulped.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Her hand was in his hair then, scratching the base of his neck. She smiled widely, her eyes curving up into crescents. There it was, there she was, and Tim grinned back, causing her to giggle and pull him into another hug.

The following days were increasingly hectic, to the point where Tim and Stephanie’s self-image issues had fallen to the side in favour of permanently being on the phone with Mrs Van Rijk, whose voice steadily went up an octave each conversation.

“I really have to protest Mr Pennyworth’s involvement.” She twittered. “I understand that there are rules for the manor regarding such receptions but to not have… and the weather forecast does not look good! It must move inside.”

Stephanie chewed her tongue. “I mean, he is the manager of the estate. What he says goes…”

Stephanie, who was being sewn into her dress for her next fitting, looked down at Rebecca, who was politely pretending to look focused on her work.

“Perhaps but he has to see that this is my area of expertise and I resent the roadblocks is he has placed. I understand the cathedral resisting the birds but you have paid for them so I need somewhere for them to fly that isn’t a torrential downpour.”

Rebecca sniggered. Stephanie stared out the window, desperate for the conversation to end.

“I think you’re better speaking to Tim about this Mrs van Rijk… he’s more likely to have an impact on Alfred than me.”

“But he is in a meeting!”

“…Can’t it wait a little?”

“No! I need certainty regarding the –”

Rebecca watched the comical look of distress on Stephanie’s features.

“Mrs van Rijk I am so sorry I need to… Yes. Yes, no I do think you are doing an absolute brilliant job… I just…Well… Yes. Yes. Please, I can call you… Okay. Sure. Whatever you think is best. Okay. Yes! No, I think the cake is perfect I am sure of it. And yes, the flowers. I’m sure the menu is… Good talk. Bye.”

Rebecca snorted again. “Problems in paradise?” She asked. Stephanie tried not to raise an eyebrow at how bitter she sounded. Tossing the phone onto her pile of clothes, she resented the tone of the question, and defended her wedding planner.

“She’s a gem, actually.”

Rebecca humphed, backing off. After a brief moment of inspection, she sighed, and got back on her knees.

“We’re nearly there. Hemming and tidying up edges, plus some detailing. But you wanna see yourself?”

Stephanie ran her fingers down her front, feeling the texture of the lace and the volume of the skirt. It was up there as the grandest thing she had ever worn, and that was counting her photoshoot gowns and the one she had for the pre-wedding dinner in a couple of days. Alfred had been fretting about that. It had been a while since the formal dining room had received any level of usage, and an army of catering staff had been called in for what felt like the biggest lie Gotham society had ever seen.

She tried to tell herself the food would at least be worth it. And Tim.

Stephanie sighed, thinking of him. Of how to help him.

“Stephanie?” Rebecca nudged, and Stephanie flinched, realising she hadn’t responded.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. Yes. Let’s see.”

She listened as Rebecca fumbled around with a trio of mirrors, continuing to stare out the window, failing to pay attention to anything during this appointment. Rebecca had failed to ask after her and Tim in the aftermath of the shooting. Stephanie had asked about how she was coping, and Rebecca dodged the question and changed the topic. Stephanie could have written it off as her wanting to stay focused on the job in front of her. Stephanie was a client, not a friend, after all. And yet Stephanie had endured endless questions about herself and Tim, about the wedding and everything in between, as if it actually mattered to Rebecca, which Stephanie had all by now given up in believing to be true.

She was trying to be civil, the woman was still innocent until proven guilty, but every now and then the woman would be overly sharp, or snippy, or judgmental, and Stephanie’s temper would flare in response. She still had that gut instinct against patronising or dismissive tones.

“Okay, turn around, tell me what you think.”

Stephanie, who had put her hair up in a bun in the shape of an oversized doughnut peeked over her shoulder, at first trying to see the damage that was visible on her back. She tried very hard not to make a face at the sight of the lightening scars that ran up her spine. Leftover from electric shocks given because she apparently writhed and screamed in interesting ways. At least her waist looked tiny. And the skirt was luscious in its length and volume. A frothing river of fabric.

“You received your veil yet?” Rebecca asked, seeing how Stephanie was staring, nonetheless.

“There’s one, that’s been passed down through Bruce’s family, think we’re going with that one.”

“And your shoes?”

“Little mesh ones… with a bow. They’re cute.”

If Rebecca approved, she did not say. She gestured for Stephanie to turn around, so she could see the front.

Stephanie didn’t know what to say, think, or feel, looking at her reflection. The dress was beautiful, because of course it was (the cynical part of her hoped so at the price Bruce was paying for it). She could even admit to herself that she looked good in it. More than good. When her hair was done, makeup on, veil, jewellery… the whole thing, she had the feeling it might actually make people watching cry.

But it wasn’t what she wanted.

She could lie, she told herself. She was competent enough for that.

Besides, she truly did look beautiful in it.

So, she nodded, a little wet eyed, and smiled.

“Perfect.”

“Not quite.” Rebecca stepped up to be on the same level at Stephanie, dangerously close to invading her personal space. “I’m not sure how to say this…”

Stephanie laughed, trying to lighten the sudden oppressive mood. “Oh god, you’re going to make me lose weight, aren’t you?”

“I don’t think you want to get married.”

Stephanie blinked, not comprehending someone being that brash with her. Trying to keep her voice low, she murmured,

“You’d think I’d put myself through all this if I didn’t really love Tim?”

There was no falsehood in her statement.

Rebecca smiled, though it was pityingly. “I don’t doubt that. Haven’t met the boy so can’t speak for his side…”

Bitch.

“But yes, I think you love Timothy Drake.” She looked down to her right, musing aloud, “Love’s not enough sometimes.”

She struck a nerve, and Stephanie got sharp.

“What’s your point? Testing if I’ve got cold feet? If I want to spend the rest of my life with the first boy who ever…” She suddenly got so welled up that she choked. “Oooooo!” She bunched up the skirt fabric in her frustration, shaking it. “I can give this dress back if you’d prefer! I can get some fabric from Joann’s and make a little white dress and Tim and I can go to the local registry office. Is that what you want to hear? I’d marry him even if the entire world told us no. I’d marry him even if I knew Gotham was going to blow up tomorrow with all of us in it. And I know Tim would to. Because love is enough.”

It had to be, it had to be. That thought was the only thing holding her fragile ego together at that time.

A tense stare off ensued, until finally, Rebecca cracked and gave a sharp laugh.

“Good! Good! I like to test some brides, make sure they’re sure.”

Stephanie continued to stare, eyes wide, nostrils flared, as Rebecca tried to downplay and lighten the mood. After a bought of nervous laughter, Rebecca was saved by the ringing of her phone. As she turned away, Stephanie felt like ripping her way out of the dress. She stayed still though and tried to calm down. The words she had vomited out settled in to her mind, and she realised she had not exaggerated or lied any part of her speech. Come hell or high water, she wanted to be with Tim. And honestly, screw every single person who thought otherwise.

Guilt and pity turned to self righteous spite, and Stephanie smiled a little to herself, rocking on her heels.

That was a much more familiar and comforting feeling she was used to and thrived within. A solid and determined screw you buddy that motivated her every step. It was a little weird, but it got the job done on her day to day (and night to night) life.

Her shoulders feeling much lighter, she looked back in the mirror, dissatisfied with one aspect the most… She’d really wanted to wear her hair down.

Oh well. Maybe next time.

The thought came so naturally that Stephanie couldn’t help her startled laugh. Twisting her left hand to see the sparkles of the ring, she mused for a moment would she have liked instead for a wedding. A smaller engagement ring certainly. And a dress with much less of a skirt.

Still, this dress was on another level for most people of the world. She rocked back and forth and around in circles, enjoying the swishy noises that the skirt fabric made. Her movements grew exaggerated to make to the rustling louder and more sweeping, and her smile grew. She realised that she had almost forbidden herself from enjoying any part of this.

Like, okay, yes, the wealth on display was mind boggling and unnecessary, and yes she still felt supremely out of place at points, and yes the circumstances leading to her being here where messy and confusing and dangerous, but at the same time… the shallow part of her trembled with delight at how pretty the dress was. That inner ten-year-old who had stared at the Barbies for sale in the supermarkets, only for her mom to drag her away and deny her, had hit the metaphorical roof with joy at the chance to dress up.

She’d never had a dress made for her before. She’d had a go at pieces herself here and there, not counting the Spoiler suits, and she’d worn nice dresses in recent years, but this was honestly on another level.

Such lovely dresses and yet such ugly circumstances.

She glared holes at the door Rebecca had gone though in order to have another disruptive conversation.

Stephanie didn’t understand. Surely, Bruce would have caught the bad guy by now? It had been three months since the first set of murders. Whoever this person was, surely if they were that skilled of a killer, Batman would be dealing with higher profile deaths than random couples across the States. The only reason Bruce had taken an interest was Rebecca was a Gotham based designer, otherwise it would have fallen to the FBI or CIA or whomever to investigate. Bruce was the World’s Greatest Detective, right? Surely, he had it figured out by now?

Rebecca got off the phone and returned to the room, the tenseness now unbearable.

“I think I have everything I need today from you Stephanie. We have the last fitting the day before, bring the veil and shoes so we can see how it looks all together. I’ll make any last changes that night, then I’ll bring it round in the morning to Wayne Manor. Does that work?”

“Yeah… sounds good. The dress is truly beautiful Rebecca.”

Rebecca smiled and went around the back, lowering the little zip from Stephanie’s waist to her hips, allowing her to step out and get back in her shorts and sweater. Reverently, Rebecca moved the swathes of white fabric to a large tidy workspace. She wheeled over a mannequin and slipped the dress into place.

“A beautiful dress for a beautiful girl.” She said, indulgently. Steph sat on the floor to get her shoes laced on and tried not to look bashful.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome. I’ll see you in a few days. The countdown begins huh?”

Putting on her backpack, Stephanie reached for the door handle.

“Sure does.”

#timsteph #tim drake #stephanie brown #my fic tag #dc

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angelicthor · 5 years

Text

billion dollar man - part 9

pairing: tony stark x reader

summary: after mounting bills and debt cause you to look at alternative means of making money, you’re thrown into a whole different kind of life when one of the most famous billionaires on the block offers to be your sugar daddy, of course in exchange for a different from of payment. non-superhero au.

warnings/genre: +18 only, sugarbaby/daddy relationship, nat-centric chapter, mentions of ptsd, slight daddy kink

masterlist | billion dollar man masterlist

a/n: i am a slut for validation, pls + thnks

Blowing on the cup of coffee Nat had handed you, you brought the steaming liquid to your lips, humming at the taste that flooded your mouth and looked over the numerous fabric samples Nat had spread out over her desk.

Your eyes wandered over the various silks, velvets, leathers, and lace that all sat piled up in various shades as Nat tried to perfect her latest designs for her next line, pencil scribbling on the multitude of sheets she had in front of her. Plucking up a patch of baby blue silk, you let your thumb stroke over the unbelievably soft material in your hand.

“Wow, that’s soft,” You muttered placing your cup and the fabric down as you moved to examine one of the designs Nat had sketched out, “So how does this work? You draw them, pick the right fabrics and then what?”

“Sort off, I have to figure out what how to creature the perfect shape with the fabric and the design. See the overall design won’t change regardless of what fabric we use but how we structure the cup is what provides the support, so it’s about getting that right before we go to production. It may take a few failed prototypes, but I’ll get it in the end.”

Nat placed a patch of cream lace over the baby blue silk you had been admiring before clipping them both to the paper she was writing on and heading over to the sewing machine in the corner of her office, pinning her design to the board on the wall before tracing out the desired shapes on the bolt of silk she had, quickly eyeing you as she made her templates.

You watched in fascination as her design came to life before your eyes, Natasha expertly sewing the pieces together with skilful precision until the feeble scraps of silk became boutique lingerie.

“How’s the wedding planning going?”

“Ugh don’t ask, Sam’s insisting we have a fucking falcon fly down the aisle to deliver our wedding rings. It doesn’t exactly tie in with our plan for a low-key wedding,” Natasha groaned, banging on the sewing machine when the lace details she was attaching to the cup stuck around the needle, muttering angry curses in Russian under her breath. “It’s Sam, he has this thing for falcons - I swear he’s obsessed. He says he’s already found the perfect one, ‘redwing’. Not gonna happen.”

You couldn’t help but snort at her, “I hate to break it to you Nat but a wedding in the Hamptons isn’t exactly low-key.”

And it was true, you had seen all of her plans up to now and they were anything but simple, the dress being hand-designed in London by one of the most exclusive designers you had ever heard of, the venue was stunning, and the grand total was more than you had ever seen anyone spend on a wedding before in your life.

If this was Nat’s idea of subtle, you would love to see what her being extravagant looked like.

“Yeah, well I’m still not having a damn bird fly down the aisle,” Nat muttered as she threaded the wire through the bottom of the bra, “Besides, I’m taking a break from planning the wedding.”

You quirked a brow at that, Natasha Romanoff wasn’t one to take breaks.

“Oh really, and why would that be? Don’t tell me the infamous Natasha Romanoff is tired of a little wedding planning?” You couldn’t help but tease, a playful smirk on your face as the redhead stuck her tongue out at you.

“Ha-ha, very funny. But no, more like I have to start planning my birthday party if I want to beat your sugar daddy – he’s won every fucking year and I refuse to lose this time.”

Leave it to Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff to turn something as simple as a birthday party into a competition.

“Ok, what? How is that a competition?” You asked incredulously, reclining back in your chair as you pondered over their strange rivalry.

Nat only shrugged as she moved onto a matching pair of panties; “We just see who can throw the greatest, most talked about birthday party each year. It started when we first met I guess, our birthdays are only a month apart so when he found out what I was doing, he just had to out-do me. Ever since then, it’s been like an on-going competition to throw the better party.”

“Huh,” You bit your lips as you contemplated your next words, debating whether or not you should go down that particular road, “So, how long have you known Tony?”

You heard the sewing machine stop, refusing to look up from the other designs you were flicking through for fear that Nat see through your casual façade. That, however, did not stop Nat from scrutinising you, knowing that the forced nonchalance held a far deeper meaning than you were letting on.

“Five, six years maybe? Why?”

“I just, I wanted to know something I guess, I figured I could maybe ask you?”

“Ok…” Nat trailed off unsure, invitation for you to ask what was on your mind.

“Has Tony always been, I mean was he ever not – why is he so closed off? Did something happen or has he always been so withdrawn?” You sighed out, struggling to find the right question as your brain stumbled over all the words you knew.

Nat silently put down her work, rising from her seat and moving to the chair across from yours, taking your fidgeting hands in her own and squeezing them reassuringly as you worried at your bottom lip.

“What’s going on Y/N? Has Tony done something to you because I swear to god I will-”

“No! No, it’s not like that. It’s just, he struggles being open with his emotions and it’s beginning to take a toll on him. I’m worried about him Nat, but I can’t understand why he want to just ignore it. I figured maybe something had happened which caused him to be so closed off, maybe if I knew what it was I could help him? I don’t know, I guess it was a bit of a long shot huh?”

“No, that makes sense. But I don’t know what to tell you Y/N, he’s kept emotional distance with everyone as long as I’ve known him. It’s one of the things we have in common actually. I do know that he had a strained relationship with his father – maybe that has something to do with it?”

His father? Tony had never spoke of the man, not in detail anyway. In fact, you didn’t know anything about Tony’s parents that wasn’t already public information; everyone knew when and how they died, it had covered newspapers for weeks and was ingrained into the Stark legacy, but you didn’t know any personal stories of his parents, you didn’t know what birthdays or Christmases were like, you didn’t know what special family traditions there were. You knew absolutely nothing of Tony’s childhood.

“I don’t know Nat, I just hope the therapy helps with whatever he’s going through.”

Nat’s eyes widened at that news. “Tony’s going to therapy?” she asked in complete disbelief.

“Yeah, he’s there right now; he was having really bad nightmares, he couldn’t sleep, he was having panic attacks – I think it’s because of what happened in Afghanistan, he told me about it and I can completely understand how traumatic that would be, but I can’t get my head around why he acted like showing any sort of emotion was a weakness.” Tears started to form in your eyes as you recalled how distraught Tony was after a nightmare, how his voice had broken when he finally opened up to you.

“You can’t tell anyone Tony’s in therapy Nat, it’ll just cause him to be more closed off, please don’t-”

“Hey! Hey!” Nat cut through you hysterics, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and bringing your head to rest on her chest, “I’m not going to tell anyone I swear, not even Sam. But don’t think you can’t tell me anything ok – you bottling everything up isn’t good, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here ok?”

Nat pressed a kiss to your forehead as you wiped away your tears, pulling away from her embrace to offer her a watery smile.

“Thanks Nat.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said as she tucked a lose strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re good for him you know,” she muttered out, eyes appraising you as a small smile played on her lips, “Come on, your gonna be my model.”

You could only furrow your brows in confusion as she pulled you from your seat and lead you over to the area of her office that was cordoned off by an intricately designed divider, pushing you into the corner and handing you the bra and panties she had just made.

Reluctantly, you began to strip out of your clothes and into the brand-new lingerie set that Nat had made, the soft baby-blue silk cupping your breasts perfectly, the cream lace decorating the trim and centre piece, the matching thong consisting of the same silk, the lace lining the waistband in perfect symmetry to the bra – they were honestly stunning, the colours and design giving you a sinfully sweet look that you knew would make a certain billionaire’s head spin.

“Well? Let me see my work woman!”

You hesitantly waked out, clutching your arms in front of yourself to try and block Nat’s view of your barely clothed form. Awkwardly standing before her as she stood from her seat and slowly circled you, assessing her work as she did.

“Sweetie, you kind of have to move your hands,” Nat hummed out amused, pulling your arms apart and leading you over to the full-length mirror so you could properly appreciate what you were wearing.

“It’s beautiful Nat, you did amazing,” You said in awe, looking over the design, no longer caring in the slightest about your lack of clothing.

“I couldn’t agree more, how does it fit?”

“Perfect. Which is slightly strange considering you never actually took my measurements.”

“I can tell just by looking, years of practise I guess,” Nat answered, trailing her hands around the bra, testing to see how well it fit against your chest.

Your breath hitched as Nat continued to trace her hands over her work as she moved to stand behind you, her deep chuckle making you shiver, “Aw, Am I making you nervous Y/N?”

Before you could answer the door to her office swung open, your head snapping towards the familiar form walking into the room. “Hey Nat, your secretary said that… Y/N was… here? Am I missing something?” Tony stood completely befuddled in the middle of the room, eyes darting between you and Nat as you watched the gears in his head turn, trying to explain the view in front of him.

You stood still in shock, mouth opening and closing like a fish as Nat squeezed your waist and walked in front of you, “Your girl was just doing some modelling for me Tony, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. You can get dressed now Y/N, and keep them, they suite you.”

You scurried back to the screen to throw your clothes on, hearing Tony mutter under his breath as you changed: “First Barnes and now you Romanoff. Christ, is everyone out to try and seduce her?”

“Oh, relax Stark, nothing happened. Although you can’t blame anyone for trying, have you seen her?”

You dashed back outside, sensing that Tony was about to overshare and not for the first time so you stopped the words from leaving his mouth by attaching your lips to his, wrapping your arms around his neck as you practically launched yourself at him.

Pulling away, Tony had a dazed look on his face before his brows furrowed in confusion, “I forgot what I was going to say.”

“Good.”

Tony gave you a lazy smirk, his hands that were resting on your waist moving down to pinch your ass as he peppered kisses across your face and down your neck.

“Ugh, get a room,” Nat mumbled teasingly.

“You know Romanoff,” Tony’s gaze didn’t leave yours as he spoke to Nat, a cheeky sparkle in his eyes, “That’s not a bad idea.”

Without giving you a chance to respond Tony began to pull you towards the door, you stumbling after him as you bid goodbye to Nat over your shoulder.

“Goodbye Y/N,” Nat sang out, a smug smirk pulling at her lips as she waved goodbye to you.

Tony pushed you against the elevator wall the moment the doors closed behind you both, his lips automatically assaulting your neck as your head lolled back to give him more room as he nipped and kissed at the exposed skin there.

“Please tell me you’re still wearing that set?” Tony groaned out, voice husky with desire.

You hummed in answer, nodding your head as you bit down on your bottom lip, grinning when Tony let out a guttural moan. “You’re fucking killing me babygirl,” He choked out, burying his face in your neck as he held you flush against him.

Rolling your hips against the growing bulge in his trousers, you bit gently on Tony’s earlobe before whispering sultrily, “You love it Daddy.”

a/n: i don’t have a tag list but if you want alerts please follow @angelicthorwrites and turn on notifications

#tony stark x reader #tony x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x y/n #tony stark series #angelicthorwrites

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Catch Me If You Can (16/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/n: If you like, read, kudo, comment, tag flail, reblog, or anything else, I see you, and I appreciate you! Honestly, it’s the coolest thing how many of you are out there, and every time I find out someone else has been reading, my heart grows Grinch style ❤️

We’re off to London in this chapter and the next one! Fun fact: the Yankees and Red Sox really did play a series in London this year!

AO3: Beginning | Current

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Tag list: @xellewoods @galaxyzxstark @eala-captian @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings @thejollyroger-writer

-/-

“This is weird,” Will mutters as they walk the unfamiliar hallways of London Stadium on their way out to the field to practice. “I’m not used to being unfamiliar with a place where we’re about to play, and I swear that I’m still jet-lagged. Why did they think we were going to get used to the time change in one day?”

Instinctively, Killian wants to get onto Will about complaining since that’s become his thing as of late, but every point that he’s made is valid. It’s weird to be in a place that he doesn’t know. He’s familiar enough with half of the baseball stadiums in America to be able to give a tour like he made the blue prints for them, but they are decidedly not in America.

They’re in London.

To play the Red Sox.

So. Fucking. Cool.

His job awards him more opportunities than he ever could have dreamed about as a kid from Ohio, and while he’s had the opportunity to travel to Mexico and Canada, he’s never been overseas like this. He meant to go years ago, but then the accident happened and all of his plans went down the drain. He could have gone then too. He had all of the time in the world on his hands, and he squandered it by sitting on his ass and not traveling or doing all of the other things he’s always wanted to do.

He’ll have all the time in the world when he’s retired.

Woah, no. That’s not happening anytime soon, and he is not going down that road when things are going so well right now.

They’re going to kick some Red Sox ass even while in England.

His family didn’t fly all the way over here on vacation just for them to lose. Addy and Lucy would be very disappointed in him if they did because he knows for a fact that they only care about being here for the baseball and Addy’s birthday party tomorrow.

All of the cool kids turn six in London, obviously, and Addison Jones is the coolest of the kids.

It’s all she’s been talking about for weeks now, going on and on about how she was going to have an English birthday party and be English like Peppa Pig and Meghan Markle. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that Peppa Pig is animated and that Meghan Markle was technically American first, but some things kids just don’t have to know. All she knows is that a real-life prince and his wife are going to be at the game today, and she thinks that’s the coolest thing in the world.

It kind of is even if he had to study a protocol list for when he met them earlier in the locker room.

Killian’s life is so goddamn weird, but he loves it.

The fact that Emma got to travel here as well, even if she’s not doing on-camera coverage and is simply here as a print journalist for the team, makes it all the better. He may not get to see her on-field during the game, but he’ll see her afterwards.

Hopefully.

They haven’t been here long, but it’s already difficult to find time away from his family to see her, even if it’s only for a moment.

He’d give anything to have those little moments.

“I have no idea,” Killian yawns, finally responding to Will as they push the doors open and walk out to the field. He can tell that the set-up is going to throw him off, the way the stadium is equal on every side, and that the AstroTurf feels odd below his feet. But that’s why they practice. “We’ll suffer through it, and drink lots and lots of coffee.”

“I think they drink tea over here.”

“I believe that they drink coffee too. You want to start in the outfield and work our way back in?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

The two of them are quiet as they take it all in and try to get used to this new place. Music blares over the speakers, and the rest of the team filters in and out as they go through their warm-ups. He’s not sure if he really needs coffee for how hyped up he is to be here and to be playing their biggest rivals, and the crash of caffeine always seems so inevitable. The crash of adrenaline, not so much. Most of the time.

It’s a quick warm-up, one that doesn’t extend too much effort on his part, and his shoulder is feeling loose after the massage Archie gave it. They’ve won each of their series against the Sox so far this season, and he doesn’t plan on that changing now. When they finally travel to Boston next month, sure. But not today.

No part of him should be thinking this, especially with how unreliable his arm can be, but they’re playing so well this season that he can’t imagine them not making the playoffs and then being in the final two.

They could be back-to-back World Series Champions.

But that’s very much counting his chickens before they hatch, and that always leads to disappointment.

He simply can’t go there even if his brain keeps trying to.

“You guys make any wedding plans yet?” he asks Will as they walk back infield to practice a few pitches on the mound.

“We’ve been engaged for exactly a week, so no, we haven’t made any official plans. Belle has all of these ideas, though, and she’s been talking through them with her parents. Honestly, I think we may get married in December or January of this year since she doesn’t want to do it during the season.”

Killian nods his head in agreement as he tucks his chain back into his uniform from where it had fallen out. “That makes sense. It’s always hell trying to plan anything during the season. Even making dinner plans can be difficult.”

“Well,” Will says, clicking his tongue, “it’s not like you have anyone to be going out to dinner with. We don’t count. Neither does Liam.”

A protest is on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t say anything, not yet. He and Emma are going to talk about that after this trip, and even if they do, he’s not sure he’ll be able to tell Will. He should. Will and Robin. And Eric and Ariel. But no one else on the team. It’s just too risky.

That might put a damper in his plan to kiss her before every game.

But the time will come. It has to. And baby steps are fine with him when they mean that steps are happening. He completely and totally understands Emma and her reasons for not wanting their relationship out in the open, and he agrees. It’s better for her, for both of them, and they’ve only been together for two months. In the grand scheme of things, that’s not that long. It doesn’t matter that he fell hard and fast. That doesn’t escalate things.

It just…complicates his feelings.

This thing won’t be hidden away forever, not if they want any kind of future, and while he’d never presume to speak for Emma, he damn well intends to have that future.

“I could be dating,” Killian scoffs at Will who only rolls his eyes in response. “What? I could.”

“Nothing,” Will shrugs, taking position behind home plate. “I’m just saying, for a man who everyone thinks is going home with a new woman every night, you are particularly lacking in the women department.”

His jaw ticks, and he’s not even sure why. He’s never minded talking about his relationships in the past, not to Will, but it’s probably the lie. Of course it’s the lie.

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Will grunts as he throws the ball back to him, a light thwacking sound hitting his glove. “Do whatever the hell you want. I’m not someone to tell you what to do with your life. I’m just saying, I’m much happier having Belle be a part of my life.”

“Look at you being all sweet.”

“I have my moments.”

“I’m totally giving a speech at your wedding about the night that I kept you from throwing up on her.”

“I would have expected nothing less from you. In fact, I’ve already warned Belle. It was in my proposal speech.”

“Shut up, you asshole.”

“Never. I know you love the sound of my voice.”

“It is rather dreamy.”

“You two are talking too much to be practicing,” Eric huffs as walks toward them with his bat in hand, fiddling with it the slightest bit. “What are we talking about?”

“Killian’s lack of a love life.”

Eric grunts at that, eyes scanning between the two of them. “That sounds like a conversation that I don’t want to be in because Ariel will somehow know and insist we talk about it later. She’ll have you set up on ten blind dates before midnight.”

“It’s in my contract that she can’t meddle in my dating life.”

“Really?” Eric and Will ask at once, their eyes going wide.

“No,” Killian chuckles as he stretches out his shoulder and bends his legs a bit, squatting down to stretch out some more, “but sometimes I wish that it was. Where has she been all day, by the way?”

“She’s helping set up Addison’s birthday party for tomorrow, apparently. She’s somehow gotten them a separate suite here, and they’re doing some sort of tea party during the game. You have even been given express permission to sit with your family instead of in the dugout with us.”

Of course. He could have done that anyways, but leave it to Ariel to make sure that there is no way in hell that he’s missing his niece’s sixth birthday party. She is pure magic, that woman.

“Your wife is something else,” he chuckles, deciding to step closer to them so that he doesn’t have to shout, “but you guys know that Addy is fully going to expect all of you to show up at some point.”

“Her present is in my suitcase.” Will smiles as he says it with a slight shake of his head. “I could never forget my biggest fan since Roland seems to betray me on who his favorite player is every week.”

Killian clicks his tongue. “Eh, just to be clear, I’m Addison’s favorite player. I’m not letting you steal that title from me.”

-/-

Killian spots Emma sitting nine rows up behind third base when they’re in the second inning.

She’s wearing a jersey…his jersey, and when he notices it, he nearly pegs Johnson with a ball.

Holy fuck.

It sends blood straight to his groin, and the only thing that stops it is him thinking about Emma making a joke about him having a boner on the mound. She’s so ridiculously funny in her bad jokes, and it brings a smile to his face that he has to control as he focuses on the game. He can’t be losing it when he’s in the middle of a game.

But damn. His girlfriend is wearing his jersey, his name and number printed on the back, and she’s got a baseball cap pulled low over her forehead with her blonde ponytail sticking out behind her. He wouldn’t have recognized her if he didn’t know every inch of her body.

He’ll play in London every day of the week if it means Emma can watch as a semi-spectator without anyone recognizing her.

A bloody siren. That’s what she is.

-/-

They win that night.

-/-

After the game when Emma walks into the locker room, her phone in hand for questions, she’s not wearing the jersey anymore. It’s been removed, and she’s wearing a black blouse that’s low cut enough that he can see the slightest bit of the cups of her bra. He’d bet that she didn’t think through having to remove his jersey when she got dressed, but he doesn’t mind how she looks.

He never does.

(She wore his fucking jersey.)

Except he can’t do anything about it but smile and answer her questions as well as everyone else’s. It’s a bit odd for her to not have Jeff following her around with the camera, but he knows that this means she’ll be writing an article instead. She’s always loved that.

Once all of the press members ask their questions, most of them British journalists, they filter out of the locker room, leaving everyone to strip out of their uniforms and move to take a shower. He’s taking off his belt when Arthur speaks, and his fingers still over the leather.

“I don’t know how any of us aren’t fucking Emma,” he grumbles, and the words make disgust drip down Killian’s spine. “Have you seen her body? I bet she’s fucking amazing in bed. I’d fuck her in a heartbeat. Damn am I glad women work in baseball now.”

The room goes silent, every man stopping what he’s doing, and Killian has words on the tip of his tongue but can’t say anything because Will is already talking.

“Fuck off, King,” Will curses, throwing his gear down on the ground. “I mean, seriously. What the bloody fuck? How shitty do you have to be to talk about someone like that? I knew you were an ass, but God, that’s next level. First of all, you’re fucking married, and even if you weren’t, that woman is a human being. You don’t get to talk about her like that.”

“Oh, come on, man. We’re all thinking it. Did you see her boobs just now? It’s nothing to get riled up about.”

“Yeah, yeah it is,” Will huffs as he crosses his arms over his chest. “The fact that you don’t realize that is just plain sad. She’s not coming in here to get ogled by you. She’s coming in here to do her job, and she’s damn good at it.”

Arthur rolls his eyes, and Killian’s blood boils even more. “Jones asked her out. How is that not the same thing?”

“Because he didn’t ask her out because he thinks of her as a sex object,” Will spits all the while Killian can barely hear any of this from the way his heart is thumping between his ears, a drum beat that’s louder than anything he’s ever heard.

Arthur darkly chuckles, and it’s that sound that has the drumline stopping so that his eyes snap over across the room. Killian didn’t even realize that he was clenching his fists, but when he looks down, he can see the red imprints of blood from where his nails were digging into his skin.

“Jones,” Arthur yells, “aren’t you going to back me up here? Isn’t she a fine piece of ass?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Killian yells before standing from the seat in his locker, quickly striding across the room until he and Arthur are eye-to-eye and completely lined up. Arthur’s got this disgusting cocky grin on his face, one that makes unpleasant chills run down his spine, and it’s taking everything in him not to punch the ever-loving shit out of the man. “Will is right. You’re an asshole, and you can’t be talking about her that way.”

“Why do you care so much? What, are you fucking her?”

And that’s when his first rises and slams into Arthur’s jaw, a sting spreading through his knuckles and up to his elbow. The drum starts beating in his head again, his heart pumping blood through him faster than normal, and everything is a blur as he moves his head to dodge Arthur’s punch and as someone grabs onto elbows and pulls him back and out of the room all the while a screaming match goes on in the locker room, every word muted to him except for the one name that keeps getting repeated.

Emma.

“Are you insane?” Robin gasps, and when Killian looks around, he can see that he’s been pulled off to the weight room that they’re using in this stadium. He didn’t even know Robin was in the locker room at the time. “You can’t punch Arthur no matter how big of an asshole he is. You’re going to fuck up your arm, and you can get suspended for weeks.”

“I don’t really care about either of those things right now.”

“Well you should,” Robin huffs, running his hands through his hair as he paces back and forth over the carpeted floor. “He’s an asshole. We all know that, and I wanted to punch him too…but you just can’t, mate. He’ll get his due, and it won’t come at the cost of your career.”

Robin is right. Robin is always right, but how is he supposed to sit there and let Arthur talk about his girlfriend like that? How is he supposed to let him talk about any woman like that? He simply can’t, and even though his knuckles hurt like hell right now and Archie is most definitely going to kill him, he doesn’t regret it. He can’t, and he’d bet that Will doesn’t either.

“Fuck,” Killian mutters, sitting down on a weight bench and burying his face in his hands as he tries to flex some of his fingers out. “Dammit. This isn’t how today was supposed to go. I’m not supposed to be punching our outfielder in a locker room in fucking London. I’m supposed to be enjoying my time and sipping tea at my niece’s birthday party because I’m this good guy that she looks up to when really everyone is a piece of shit.”

“Dramatic much?”

“Shut up.”

“Never,” Robin laughs as the door opens and Al stumbles inside, his long dark hair pushed back behind his ears and his tanned skin painted red in what Killian hopes is a sunburn and not anger.

“What the hell, Jones?” Al screeches, waling right up to him so that the tips of their shoes touch. “You punched King? With your right arm? What is going on in that head of yours?”

Killian groans, already ready to have his ego bruised and his career kicked by a man who is only four years older than him, and he straights his back so that Al isn’t look down at him as much as he should be.

“Are you in here to suspend me?”

Al’s brows furrow together. “What? No. Why would I suspend you?”

“Because I punched Arthur?”

Al waves him away, backing up the slightest bit. “No, I’m not going to suspend you for that. King can be a piece of shit sometimes, and I heard some of the stuff he was saying. He deserved that. My team are not going to be a bunch of sexist assholes who talk about our reporters that way. I can’t guarantee that there won’t be some kind of league suspension, but I doubt King takes it anywhere since then he’s had to explain the stuff he was saying.”

“Then why are you yelling at me?”

“Because you punched someone with your pitching arm, and I can’t have you messing up your arm again. Go see Archie right now, and get some damn ice on the thing.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Killian mock salutes, his head still spinning with everything that’s happened in the past fifteen minutes.

He takes it back. His life isn’t weird. It’s batshit crazy.

-/-

Ariel has been yelling at him in his hotel room for the past fifteen minutes. This is after Liam and Elsa yelled at him for twenty minutes, each, and he’s so damn tired of having to listen to this. He’s aware of the fact that he could have messed up part of his season today, but he still doesn’t regret it. He could have made better choices, yes, but Arthur deserved it. And he’s fine. He’ll probably only have a slight bruise. The only significant damage is the fact that their already frayed relationship that only truly exists because they’re teammates and his wife is friends with Ariel is pretty much destroyed now. That’s fine with him. He doesn’t want anything to do with the asshole.

And he has no idea what he’s going to tell Emma about this. His knuckles have cuts and bruises on them already, his fingers aching when he stretches them out, and if she comes to his room tonight, there’s no way in hell she’s not going to notice.

Maybe he should cancel on her.

He doesn’t want to cancel on her.

He wants to spend time with her and simply be in her company, maybe even get to figure out the subway routes (or should he call them the underground here?) and find a secluded place to go out to dinner. But he’s got to explain his hand, and he’s really not sure how lying is going to go here.

Lying to Emma really isn’t his best idea, so he most likely shouldn’t do it.

“Are you even listening to me, KJ?” Ariel huffs, stopping her pacing and placing her hands on her hips. “You look like you’re not listening.”

“I’m not.” She reaches up to slap the back of his hand, but he grabs her wrist to stop her, putting it back by her side. “I’ve heard all of it before, okay? And I’m going to hear it again. I know, I know, I fucking know. It was dumb, but I couldn’t stand by and listen to that. Will couldn’t either, but he’s got enough brains to know better than to punch someone.”

“That is not a sentence I ever thought you would say.”

“Life is funny like that,” Killian chuckles before falling back against his hotel bed. Whoever is booking their hotel rooms this year obviously has no sense of a budget because he hasn’t had a roommate once. It’s glorious. “A, I have no idea why you care about me so much. I’m such a pain in your ass.”

“Yeah,” Ariel sighs, sitting down next to his shoulder on the bed so that she can look over at him, her red hair framing her face, “you are, but I love you, so I don’t mind too much. And you give me something to focus on other than my idiot husband.”

“Please, you and Eric have one fight a year, and it lasts about five minutes.”

“I’ll have you know that we fought just yesterday over what to have for dinner. It was a real battle. I nearly punched him, but I had enough sense to stop myself.”

His eyes roll, but he can feel the smile stretching across his lips as he twists his head to look at Ariel. “I love you too, by the way. You and Elsa and Anna are pretty much the three sisters I never had. And you’re much nicer to me than Liam ever was.”

“Please, Liam is your hero.”

“Yeah, but when I was eight and he was sixteen, I was not his favorite person in the world. I think you guys would have been much nicer to me.”

Ariel’s lips flatten as she nods her head, sarcasm practically penned across the lines on her forehead. “Sure, sweetie. That’s what would have happened. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” She simply arches her brow. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just a shitty afternoon. As long as I don’t get yelled at anymore, I think I’ll be perfect and ready to go for Addy’s birthday party tomorrow. Thanks for setting that up, by the way. I think you may actually be magic for how you convince people to do your bidding.”

“I know,” she says, a grin plastered on her lips. “I’m pretty much the best. Do you want to come and get dinner with me and Eric?”

“Raincheck on that one?”

“I’m holding you to that this time,” Ariel sighs, patting his shoulder before she rises from the mattress. “Keep putting ice on your hand, and doing your stretches. We’ve got a long season ahead of us, and you are not allowed to mess it up.”

“Understood, love. Have fun at dinner. Feel free not to yell at me tomorrow even though I know that you will.”

Ariel waves him away before picking up her purse and walking out the door while he stays stretched out on his mattress, wondering if he can convince whoever owns this hotel to send this mattress and these sheets to his apartment because it’s glorious. Maybe it’s not really and it’s simply the fact that he’s still jetlagged and has had an extremely long day, but he doubts it.

This is the best comforter in the world.

And he’s never going to move from it.

So, of course, there’s a knock on his hotel door. Of course.

Groaning, he pulls himself up to rise from the bed, the muscles in his backing aching the slightest bit, and steps over to the door, checking the peephole and finding Emma on the other side. He should have known, and honestly, of all of the people seeking him out tonight, she is his favorite.

Until he opens the door, lets her inside, and the first thing that she does is hit him in the chest.

What the hell?

“What the hell?” Emma fumes, echoing his thoughts. “You punched Arthur King today?”

Bloody hell.

Bloody hell? Is he British now? How long has he been using that phrase and hasn’t even realized it? This is what he gets for hanging out with Robin so much.

“Aye,” he sighs as his unbruised hand immediately goes up to scratch behind his ear. She doesn’t look angry, the same soft smile that’s usually painted on her face still there, but there’s fire behind the green of her eyes. “How do you know about that?”

“Belle told me.”

He arches a brow. “Belle?”

“Yeah, I ran into her when I was leaving the stadium, and we got to talking and she starts telling me all about you and Will getting into a fight with Arthur over me. I mean, seriously, Killian. How could you be so dumb to punch him? You’re lucky you didn’t fuck up your arm and that you aren’t getting sanctions against you.”

He should really start putting money on how many times he can be told that in one night. He’s betting at least once more tonight and then seven times tomorrow.

“Swan, I know, okay? I promise you I’ve already had my head chewed off about this enough times. I get it, but he was being an asshole and deserved it. Will confronted him first going on and on about how he was a sexist pig, and then Arthur brought me into it by asking how him talking about wanting to fuck you was any different than me asking you out on a date. Then I told him to stop, which only escalated into him asking you if I’m defending you because I’m fucking you. And obviously, I am, but that’s not why I was defending you. He doesn’t get to say shit like that about anyone, but especially not you.”

He releases a breath when he finishes his ramble, which is really only an abbreviated version of the events, but he’s going to lose his mind if he has to go through it one more time. Seriously. But the way Emma’s mouth keeps opening and closing, the right words obviously not coming to her, has him rethinking this and starting from the beginning. It’s not pretty, but she deserves to know.

“You, Killian Jones,” she laments, stepping closer to him and wrapping her arms around his waist in an unexpected move so that he can smell the vanilla of her perfume, “are an idiot asshole who I’m still very much mad at for messing with your hand like that, but I’m also thankful that you and Will didn’t let someone talk about me like that. I’ve been through so much like that already, and I’m glad I have you guys on my side.”

“You have everyone else in that locker room on your side, love,” he says as her rubs his hands up and down her back and rests his chin against her temple, twisting his head to the side so that he can press his lips into her hair. “Me most of all. Then Will, I’ve discovered today, and everyone else is somewhere in there, rankings improving as long as I’m always at the top.”

“You’re so stupid,” she laughs into his chest, the vibrations of it running through him.

“I’ve gotten that a lot today, but you obviously like me a little bit since I saw you wearing my jersey.”

Emma pulls back from the hug to look up at him, a bit of red painting her cheeks. “So, you saw that, did you?”

“I did. I have an eagle eye for my biggest fan.”

“I like you a lot, but I don’t think that I’m your biggest fan. Your nieces have me beat. I didn’t know tomorrow was Addy’s birthday.”

“Aye,” he smiles, fingers inching up her back and tugging her closer to him, “she is turning six, and Ariel has arranged for her to have a tea party in one of the suites separate from the team suites. You should come with me.”

“Killian.” The way she says his name has all of his hope deflating, and he immediately dips his head down to run his lips across the apple of her cheek while his thumbs rub circles into her lower back. “I can’t. You know that.”

“You can. You don’t have to come as my girlfriend. You can simply come as part of the team. I’ll say I ran into you in the hallway or something and insisted that you come along. Come on,” he begs, finally kissing her lips, lingering a moment too long for it to be chaste, “come with me. It’ll be a fun time, and you can meet my family without any of the pressure of meeting them as my girlfriend.”

“But I will be meeting them as your girlfriend.”

“They don’t know that.”

“I’m not sure how that makes me feel. I know I want to meet your family and for you to meet mine. It was my idea and all, but now that the reality is in front of me, I think I might need some more time.” She pulls back from him, releasing his waist and trailing her fingers along his arms until Emma’s holding his hands, soft thumb tracing over the rough parts of his knuckles as her brows furrow together. She’s inspecting to him, and nerves rile in his stomach until she looks up at him with a sympathetic smile. “Can I think on it tonight at least? I don’t have a present for Addy.”

Killian shrugs. “We can sneak out and go buy her something, or,” he twines their fingers together and tugs her toward the bed, “we can spend a little time in here with you on your back because it really wouldn’t make sense for you to have a present if you weren’t technically planning on coming to the party.” “Watching TV?”

“Sure. We can keep it on while I fuck you with the image of you wearing nothing but my jersey playing in my mind.”

Emma laughs, something loud and boisterous, and he’s never been quite so thankful for the way that she enjoys his flirting. “I mean, that is the most typical athlete thing I’ve ever heard in my life, but we could always make it a reality.”

“Really now?”

“Mhm,” she hums, backing up into the mattress and sitting down, “but only because I liked the way you looked today when you realized I was wearing it. Plus, you defended me and all like a good human being, and I like good human beings.”

And I love you, he wants to say, but doesn’t, biting his tongue while he leans over her, hovering just above her face so that she blinks several times while looking up at him, her bottom lip tugged between her teeth.

“Well, only if you insist.”

#catch me if you can #cs ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #captain swan

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