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luveline · 6 months

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kisses before dinner —the harrington family gets ready for a dinner party. mom!reader, 3k

"...and I told mommy she needed my help but your mom doesn't like listening to me anymore," Steve says, eyebrows pulled together, "because of that one time I told her the side of the refrigerator was supposed to feel warm and it broke. But I'm usually right."

Wren blinks at him dopily where she lies in the dip of his thighs. Steve has his knees up, back flat on the couch and head propped by a pink fluffy heart pillow from Bethie's bed to speak to her face to face.

"I promise you'll understand when you're older. I'm a genius." He strokes her little forehead. Steve's youngest daughter is too baby to look like anybody, but he's starting to think she looks like him anyway. "And now mom has to run the washing machine again when we were already super duper busy."

"Shut up!" you yell from the kitchen.

Bethie giggles from the same place, seemingly, raising her voice to join in, "Yeah, daddy! Shut up!"

"That's so not nice." Steve shakes his head at Wren in dramatic disbelief. She smiles at him. "Isn't that mean? Don't you think that's sick?"

"You're being a know-it-all again!" you continue. "And we'd be less busy if you were helping me!"

"I'm sick of helping," Steve says conversationally. "I help all day long."

Wren gurgles and lifts one of her hands toward him. Steve holds it in his, rubbing at her palm with a gentle thumb. She totally gets what he's saying, agrees with him no doubt, breathing out heavily as Steve gives her hand a wave up and down.

"Steve," you say, dropping the angry act to pull him in, "please, sweetheart, I really do need your help."

"How am I supposed to say no to that?" Steve whispers. "Does she guilt trip you that way?"

Wren doesn't giggle, but the breathy, happy sound she makes as he crunches forward to kiss her forehead is close enough to make Steve laugh himself. He moves her carefully into the curve of his arm and stands, wishing he could stretch, exhausted by another long week but undeniably happy. "Let's go see what they want," he murmurs to Wren.

You and Bethie are in the kitchen by the stove. She's wearing oven mitts too big for her, and you're crouched behind her offering steady instructions. "Don't touch the sides, my love. Only the baking tray. If it feels warm and you're not happy, tell me, and I'll take it straight away." You wear your own oven gloves.

"I can do it," Beth insists, squaring her features.

Beth takes the baking tray and its cookies into her hands, walking with short steps to the counter, where she slides the tray up high. You lean over her to make sure it's settled before closing the oven and dashing a kiss into her cheek. "Well done, gorgeous girl," you say, scratching lightly at her shoulder as she preens under the praise. "One day you'll be making cookies all by yourself."

"But not for a while?" she asks, startled.

You kiss her again. "Not for a long, long time."

"Did you need my help or my approval?" Steve asks, his hand making a small thump with each pat he taps into Wren's back. "A taste tester, right?"

"I need you to find your other daughters. I have no idea where they are," you say with a rueful smile.

"Okay." Steve has carried babies. He's carried them for years, tiny ones and ones too big to need it, carried nonetheless. But something about Wren in all her newness makes him nervous. He hates carrying her up and down the stairs, too aware of the times he's missed a step or tripped up. "Can you take her?"

"Yes!" Bethie says, running to her unofficial chair at the dining table and holding out her mitted arms as she sits.

You nod at him and take the seat next to her. Steve hands Wren over into her sister's waiting hold, more than confident you're still there to take over if things get overwhelming. Wren looks comically large in Bethie's lap.

"I have her, dad." Beth leans down to touch her nose to Wren's. "Hi, Wren. Hello, hello," she says softly.

Steve gives your cheek a swift but loving stroke and leaves in search of the other kids. He can hear Dove in her room talking to herself in make believe, but Avery, the oldest, isn't with her, nor is she in her bedroom. Steve knocks on the bathroom door.

"Are you in there, Ave?"

No answer. Steve raises his voice. "I'm coming in."

He peeks inside slowly but she's not there. Eyebrows raised, Steve asks, "Avery, where are you?" Nothing. "Avery Harrington, don't make me worry! Please."

He lets his head drift to one side, listening for an answer. Avery rarely gets told off and she hates it; she'd jump to tell him where she was if she were up here.

Or so he thinks. Just as he's taking the stairs again to look for her someplace he must have missed, he hears sniffling coming from the master bedroom.

Idiot, he thinks, relief taking tight hold. He doesn't like not knowing where the girls are. He should've checked your room to begin with.

"Ave?" he says, opening his bedroom door. "You in here?"

"I'm here, dad," she says, peering up from the space between the top of the bed and his nightstand, kneeling on the carpeted floor.

"What are you doing down there? We gotta get ready for Aunt Robin's party."

Her cheeks shine in the slice of light from the open door. Steve closes it behind him and flicks on the big light, rounding the end of the bed to help her up. He hooks his hands under her arms and pulls her into his chest, bed springs creaking as their joined weight lands.

"Why are you crying?" he asks, cuddling her to his front. "What's wrong? Why didn't you come and find me? You can't stay here crying all by yourself, that's not cool. How am I supposed to make it better if I don't know what's wrong?"

"Dove bit me."

Steve gasps. "Again?"

"On my hand, dad." She holds up her wrist. "It hurts."

He presses his cheek to the top of her head, taking her arm tenderly to analyse the bite. It's a nasty thing, not bleeding but cruel and stark. "I'm sorry," he says.

"You said I can't be mean–"

"No, you can't–"

"But it was really mean."

"I know," he murmurs, "but I just don't… we can't be mean to Dove when she bites because she doesn't know it's wrong, okay? She doesn't remember. She knows it's the wrong thing to do, but by the time I tell her she doesn't know what she did." What Steve means is that the first time Dove bit Avery, Avery reacted on impulse and slapped her sister in the stomach. There isn't a bridge yet to connect to Dove why she might have received such a thing (though Steve teaches all the girls that hitting is never okay no matter what), so Dove just thought she was being hit. It was a very tense half hour of tears.

Steve rubs Avery's back as she starts to cry in earnest. "I will tell her not to bite you, honey. I swear, I won't let her be mean to you. I'll tell her until she understands."

He's been trying to teach Dove not to bite, but saying 'no' doesn't seem to do anything. Positive incentives don't last, and taking her toys wouldn't make much sense, because again, she doesn't get it.

"You know," Steve says, wiping her cheeks tenderly, "I'll tell her again and again and again until she stops, and it'll work, because it worked with you."

"What?"

"You used to bite me sometimes, but you used to bite mom all the time."

Avery looks at him in horror. "I did?"

He puts her down onto her feet and takes her hand. He'd like to tell her this story while sitting down, but Robin's house beckons and time is running short. "Mom would come home from work and you'd be very happy to see her, but she would ask you what you did today and where we went and you'd bite her."

He peeks into Dove's room and finds her missing. Downstairs, you say, "No! No, no, babe!" and he assumes she's been found.

"Why would I do that?"

Steve holds her hand buoyed between them as he descends the stairs. "We decided it was because you missed her. When your Dove's age you don't know how to say that. You don't even know what that is. I'm a thousand years old and I don't even know what I'm feeling half the time. So mom stopped hugging you after work for a bit until you calmed down."

"But I don't go to work, dad. Why did Dove bite me?"

"What were you doing?"

"We were playing with Mr Scruffles and the care bears and she just bit me for no reason!"

Steve stops at the bottom of the stairs. "Were you being a bossy boots?"

Avery glares at him. "I just told her to stop taking Funshine bear."

"Well," Steve says, smiling at her in apology, "maybe, next time, you can come and tell me, and then I'll tell her to stop taking Funshine bear, and then when she wants to bite someone she bites me instead of you. That could work, yeah?" He would much prefer it.

Steve takes Avery to the kitchen, where you've transferred Wren into her bassinet while Bethie eats a cookie, her cheeks messy with chocolate, and Dove languishes in your arms, small hands touching your hair curiously.

"Dove, will you look at this?" he asks, showing her Avery's bite mark. "You see that, honey? That's what you did when you bit your sister. We don't bite."

You gasp. "No!" you say, stern but far from cruel. "We don't bite. We only bite when we want to eat something."

Dove frowns.

"When you bite," Steve says, trying to appeal to her smarts. It'll stick eventually. "You give Avery an owie. That's why we can't bite, okay?"

Dove can tell she's being chided even if she doesn't totally get why. "No," she says unhappily.

"Can you say sorry to Avery?" you ask, reassuring her with a gentle squeeze. "Say, I'm sorry, Avery."

"Sorry, Ave'y," she mumbles.

Avery can't glare for long. She doesn't hold a grudge, not like her dad. "It's okay. You didn't mean to."

You beam at Avery like she's hung the moon. "You're so nice, my big girl. Can I have a look at your wrist? Did that hurt?"

Her mother's concern draws fresh tears. You swap children, and Dove quickly forgets what happened as Avery cries in little sniffles on the countertop. Steve brims with a familiar brand of pride as you comfort her, kissing and offering treats to help her feel better. I picked the right one might be applicable, only Steve didn't choose you so much as he happened upon you one day like a miracle, and then begged to keep you. Luckily for him, you've always been very agreeable on that front.

(As in, you love him more than can be said in any one language.)

"What are you upto?" Steve asks Bethie.

She shows him her food-covered hands. He nods like this is awesome, but in reality chocolate stains her t-shirt and she's going to have to change before they leave. Dove rams herself against his leg and looks up with her eyes widened.

"What?" he asks.

"Um…"

"What do you want?" he asks, softer. She starts to frown again. Steve bends. "Drink? Crackers?" No dice. "What about some pear slices?"

Dove loves pears more than anything, the sticky, sugary sliced kind from the can. Her frown disappears and she walks off, thankful to be understood. Steve's just grateful he wasn't bitten.

"What else did you need?" Steve asks, winding around you where you're cleaning Avery's cheeks. A damp washcloth drips down your arm.

"More time. Have any?"

"Wren's bag is done, bottles done, Bethie's dinner." He whispers the last part. Bethie is a picky eater and she grows pickier with time, and Robin knows this, but she's not a parent (as sweet and caring as she might be for the girls). Only something you or Steve have made is something Bethie will deign to eat, and she's insecure about it despite having no reason to be. "Beth needs a new top. Your blouse needs to go in the dryer, and I can't find my nice pants. Avery?"

"I don't need anything."

"You sure? You have Mr Scruffles?"

She wraps her arms around your neck. "Just want a hug."

"Then I guess I'm busy while daddy does all my chores," you tease Steve lightly, your touch similarly soft where it tracks up and down Avery's arm. "I'm sorry Dove bit you again. It's not fair. Not fair at all. Maybe we should only have you playing downstairs until me and dad figure it out, okay? I don't want her to keep taking bits of you."

Steve clears the checklist. Not to brag or anything, but he's a pro. You both are. Life is hectic as always and you knew getting out the door would be a process, so you planned accordingly, and you arrive at Robin's with time to spare, though Dove smells strongly of sugary pears and Bethie's new shirt has fingerprints on the back.

"Hi, crew!" Robin greets. "It's my favourite Harringtons!"

"We're your only Harringtons."

"That's not true, I went to college with a Harrington." Robin ushers the girls inside. They want one thing and one thing alone —hugs. Dove is the most insistent, dropping your hand to offer Robin her arms. She picks the small girl up and smiles at her with a monumental amount of love. Robin doesn't have favourites but Dove demands it, sometimes. Avery says, "Hello, Aunt Robin," and hugs her stomach, while Bethie puts her arm behind Avery and hugs them both.

Steve's arm shakes. "Any chance I can get through? This is a really heavy baby."

"Hi," Robin says, ignoring him without guilt. "You guys are the best part about having a best friend."

Steve logs that one for later revenge and eases around the mass of bodies to take Wren into the living room. "Holy fuck," he says, "I thought you weren't coming?"

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I wanted to see the girls. It has nothing to do with you."

They hug and pat each other on the back, and then Eddie drops to his knees in front of Wren's car seat to smile at her. "I love her so much. Can I have this one? Y'already have so many."

"No you absolutely cannot. Where's Dustin?"

"They're all in the backyard. Mora's teaching them how to make grass flutes, or something."

"How'd you get out of that?"

Eddie shrugs. "She doesn't like me. Doesn't make any sense, goth and metal are like brothers."

"Is she goth? I thought we settled on hippie who wears dark clothing."

"You guys are such losers!" Robin says, like a tree adorned in girl-shaped ornaments. "Don't bitch about Mora."

"Don't swear in front of my kids!"

You, having taken off your shoes and coat, unlike Steve, shimmy around the table. "He said 'fucking bitch' in front of Bethie the other day," you gossip, sitting by your friend's side. Eddie gives you a quick hug. You're undoubtedly his favourite Harrington.

"He's a disgusting man who shouldn't have kids."

You gasp and elbow him. "How dare you."

"Can we go play with Stinky?" Avery asks Robin.

Robin puts Dove down, short hair flying every which way, "If you can find him. But be nice, okay? He's agitated today. Mora says it's something about the supermoon."

Avery laughs and Dove races to follow her sister up the stairs. "Ave, remember what I said, okay?" Steve calls after her. "Come and tell me if she's being bad! And no going in the bathroom!"

Bethie remains, oddly. Though it's obvious why she's stayed the longer she lingers, her gaze flickering between you and Eddie.

He holds his arms out. "Hello, Beth. You want a bro hug?"

Bethie laughs and meanders into his waiting arms, where he pat-pat-pats her back like he did to Steve, eliciting a wave of happy giggles. "You've gotten so big again!" Eddie says, moving her away kindly. "Woah!"

"I'm glad people have stopped saying that to me," you joke.

Steve's delighted, laughing loud and sudden, and you're always pleased to have made him laugh, practically collapsing in his direction. He pulls at you until you're arm's reach.

"What does that mean, Eddie?" Bethie whispers.

Eddie pulls her into his lap. "It means your mom is happy about baby Wren being born."

"I'm really happy too."

"I bet you are! Your dad told me you're like his little helper, is that true?"

Steve turns into your cheek. A quick stolen moment before he kisses under your ear and pulls away. "Wow," he says, smiling at you, "could we, like, actually have a conversation right now? A full one?"

You beam. "What do you wanna talk about?"

Steve could happily talk about everything and nothing with you. Before bed you guys are usually tired but excited enough to be alone together that you'll talk about the colour of the new dish soap or Avery's broken pinky nail. "Seen any good movies lately?"

You give him the look. He practically invented it, that sticky, gooey eyed love as you murmur, "Mm, no. Don't think so. How about you?"

He leans in for a kiss.

"Yikes," Eddie says, covering a giggling Bethie's eyes with his hands. "Robin, house rules, please!"

Steve drops his arms heavily over your shoulders for a warm hug. "He's just jealous," he whispers.

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distressedjellyfish · 3 months

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Things I think about with frequency

Amy March

How we deserved to see Amy and Laurie's wedding, and them falling in love, and just more of them

How Amy March is hated by many because LMA based the characters off her own sisters, and Amy was obviously written with some bias (as were all the sisters), which shines through and makes us feel similarly about Amy that "Jo" felt about her younger sister.

That line where Amy says "I've been second to Jo my whole life" hits A LOT harder when you realize that Louisa's (Jo) middle name is May, and her younger sister, who she based Amy off, is named May, after LMA's middle name.

I think that people see Amy as this vapid little bitch because she always knew she wanted to be a wife, and she knew she wanted to be rich. But what people fail to consider is that a lot of the time the youngest is the one that sees all the flaws in their family’s lives and feels responsible for taking care of them, even if its not expressly stated. Jo was a wild card. She was free to do as she wanted and nothing could stop her and God love Marmee for never trying. Meg was docile and almost polar opposite of Jo, and as the eldest sister she felt the same burden but lessened because yes she had typical Eldest Sister Syndrome where she had the need to take care of the family, but she also was the first, and therefore had no pre-set markers and expectations that she needed to meet or surpass. She wanted to marry and all that, but it didn't super matter about finances to her. Beth was unable to do "better" than her sisters "mistakes" flat out. And its not through any fault of her own, its just the way it was.

Speaking from experience, its always been clear to me that as the youngest of 3, I would have to do better. My half brother got a girl pregnant on his gap year when he was 18, so I was never allowed to take one, even though it would have probably helped in the long run. My half sister has always been mean to my parents, and won't let my dad see his only biological grandkid, which rips my dad apart, so of course I feel the pressure to have a child to give my dad a bio grandkid to dote on like he does with his non-bio grandkids, even though he's never outwardly expressed to anyone ever that he feels any disconnect from my niece because they aren't related, or that he wants me to have kids for any reason other than he wants them.

Anyways, my point is that Amy felt that pressure from a young age, hence always saying this or that about marrying rich. Add onto that when Aunt March tells her she's her family’s only hope of not being in the lower class/lower middle class for the rest of their lives. And just because that's the only time we see it, but that doesn't mean that there weren't other similar conversations had. Do you really think Aunt March never made her snide comments about the family and their status in front of Amy?

Amy's entire character revolves around this point, she's focused on being a proper lady, being delicate and pretty, in hopes of one day being able to bag someone rich, for her family.

Obviously, she falls into infatuation with Laurie when she meets him at the ripe age of 12??? She idolizes Jo, and Laurie is basically just the boy version (with some exceptions). He's also rich, young, handsome, and charming, and adores the family for who they are, including all their flaws. He's exactly what Amy had been saying she would marry, with the added bonus of him loving Jo the way she is, the exact opposite of Amy, proving that there are rich lovely men out there who will love you even if you aren't perfect, even if you falter. He's proof she can have the life she knows she needs to have for her family, and also still enjoy it and not be stressed all the time about being perfect.

Of course Laurie loves Jo first, for very similar reasons that Amy is infatuated with him. At 15, his whole life has been spent at dinner parties with girls the exact opposite of Jo, all proper and lovely and so so similar to one another, being told he'll marry one of them, everyone expecting him to be polished and well spoken and everything that no 15 year old boy wants to be. So then in comes this whirlwind girl who is completely different, a breath of fresh air that never wants to marry and can't ballroom dance for shit and laughs too loud, and shows him that life can be the Something Different he so desperately craves.

And of course, he ends up with Amy. He was Jo's best friend, so for 6 years all he knew of her was the way she was presented through Jo's eyes. A bratty little girl, who was the same as the other vapid girls he knew, that wasn't worth a thought. And he never paid her any mind because he spent 6 years thinking Jo loved him back, so why would he think of other girls? Then, at 21, he is essentially dumped by the love of his life, and travels abroad to find who he is without her. He meets Amy again, the girl who was always happy to see him. Of course he's going to spend time with her, she's familiar enough to feel like home, but different enough from Jo that it doesn't hurt. And there's the added validation of her liking him, which sometimes you need after your heart has been ripped apart. Plus, she's the only one he really knows in Paris. So they spend time together, and in that time he learns that she's not at all the way he's seen her over the last 6 years. Where he always saw someone not very bright, with a dim personality, that didn't stand up for anything or really rock the boat unless seriously provoked, who would do anything for him, he now finds a strong, funny, kind, beautiful girl, who is very intelligent and has a deep understanding of how cruel the world is (maybe ((definitely)) moreso than her sister) and knows how to manipulate said world in such a way that she can come out close to on top, who cares about her family enough to put everything else aside in order to become the person they need her to be in order to support them, who would still do anything for him but will absolutely call him on his shit and put him in his place when necessary. And how could he not love that?

She's not all that much like Jo, sure, but she is so much more. And she deserves so much more than people calling her his second choice.

Also I think that its criminal that most people don't see that obviously Jo loved her family but she loved herself more. Her sense of duty was to herself, and finding the place that would make her happy. She was also kind of a brat? Things didn't go her way? Editor is a dick? Boy critisizes her writing? Tantrum.

Whereas Amy loved her family more than herself. She was willing to put aside her dreams in order to support her family, and growing up was very rarely bitter about it. She decided, on her own, that her family was her number one priority, and that regardless of the fact that she could be happier doing other things, she wanted to do what she could to provide for her family. She knew how the world treated women, and she learned how to take that, and general criticism, on the chin.

Personally, I think that Amy is a way better character, and I'll die on this hill

Amy March

#jo march #amy march #beth march #meg march #louisa may alcott #little women #books #booklr #bookblr #classic literature #literature #movies #little women movie #little women 2019 #hot take #laurie laurence #amy x laurie #the march sisters #my roman empire

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kieren-fucking-walker · 5 months

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Hey folks!

A few people asked if I was okay after my other post so I thought I'd give a general update as to Life Things (tm).

My mum finally left my dad, nys sister got married and he wasn't invited to the wedding and the way he acted was enough to make her leave. My youngest sister (still an adult) was left alone with my dad in the house and I had to talk her through packing a bag and leaving without him noticing. They both left pretty much everything behind and we don't know if they'll be able to get it back. They're at my grandparents now which is further away from both of their workplaces and a very temporary solution, but safe at least. My youngest sister is disabled and she needs support nobody can really give her at the moment, but she's safe.

I lost Juniper (one of my cats) a few weeks back. It was old age, but I wasn't able to be with her and it still doesn't quite feel real. I miss her so much, and I feel very bad about not being able to be with her (a very good friend was though, she was loved and wasn't alone thank god.) Sage is looking for her sometimes but seems to have some understanding of what's happened since he saw her briefly afterwards, she's buried in my best friends garden having a new adventure.

My landlord put my rent up by £100, but hasn't fixed a lot of the things wrong with the flat. The cost of heating this place is ridiculously high, so I'm trying to put the heating on as little as possible even though it's dropping into the minus degrees. Apparently they're set to go up even more in the new year because this country wants to kill us I guess.

My disabilities are all flaring up at once, I've had to take unpaid leave from work, I've not been able to afford the physio sessions that stave off the joint issues, or the food that helps keep my protein levels up because it is expensive and I need to eat something at least. I'm very very lucky that we have the NHS and all of my medications now qualify so at least I get those.

It's coming up to Christmas, I don't know what it's going to be like this year. My family is scattered and all in precarious situations, none of us have much to spare and most of us don't have a permanent home or more than a suitcase of stuff. I need to get Sage his vaccinations, and I feel terrible about leaving him alone in the cattery over Christmas.

That is to say that life is a lot. It's good things, but unstable. My dad is harassing us all, but we aren't stuck with him. I can't afford to keep my disabilities at bay, but my family is safer even if they need more support. Mentally at least I'm okay, I think.

If you'd like to help out, my PayPal is here and my Ko-Fi is here. If you can't or just don't want to this is not for you, god knows we're all going through hard times at the moment and the world is going to shit, but if you do and you're able it will be much appreciated by me and my family.

Finally here is a picture of my beautiful Juniper. Rest in peace my darling.

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season, and thank you for reading 💜

#life blogging #update #if nothing else look at my beautiful kitty #i miss her #give your pets a kiss from me #disability #family shit

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bellewintersroe · 8 months

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Charles Leclerc X Schumacher!Daughter.

Lila is the youngest of the 3 Schumacher siblings, at 22 shes catching the attention of the public eye. With the new found popularity through Drive to Survive, social media has dubbed her the next ‘it’ girl despite her constant desire for privacy. When her love interest becomes more or less the most sought after man in F1, how will she cope with being the internets fascination? Both Charles and Lila have dealt with immense amounts of loss and trauma, so their mutual understanding for one another fuels their so called ‘friendship’.

Part 5, here is the LINK to part 4. Lila is beginning to feel envious of the beautiful girls that surround Charles on social media. Does she even have a chance with him? It’s been weeks since she could last fly out to a Grand Prix and Charles is beginning to feel oddly rejected. It’s not until after one not so fun race, that he’s finally open with her, and the two can finally be honest with one another about their feelings…

A deep sigh escaped my lips, scrolling down through my Instagram page. It’s not real, it’s not real, none of it’s real. Everything was an illusion, I reminded myself as I zoomed in on the perfectly airbrushed girl, with flat abs, a sucked in waist and the best tan I’d quite literally seen. She was beautiful to be quite frank, and when I saw who followed her I let out an even heavier sigh.

charles_leclerc

“If you breathe any heavier you’ll fly away…” Gina, my elder sister informed me in German from the other side of the table. Social media was originally ruining me. One minute I was confident and happy with my life, the next I was being prayed upon by thousands of people, intrigued into deeper into my personal life than ever. I switched off my phone and glanced back up, to real life. “Sorry.” I forced a smile, eyes falling back down to my phone. There was no new notifications- sadly enough for me.

“Are you coming to Hungary with us?” My sister then questioned again, “what for?” “The GP?” She spoke like it was obvious. My stomach twisted in excitement. “Oh! Yeah!” It had been 3 weeks since I’d last made it to a GP, I was finding myself obsessively feeling the urge to be there, especially because Charles would ask when I was next there. Now was my opportunity to text him first with the good news.

There was only one issue I found myself struggling with, and that was my insecurity and anxiety surrounding this whole ‘thing’ with Charles. I didn’t know what the hell was going on, we hadn’t seen each other enough to become anything more than friends, and when I had to tell him for the seventh or so time I couldn’t make it to where he was, I felt disheartened and worried he’d think I was rejecting him. That’s why I hopped on the opportunity to tell him I’d be present in Hungary, cheering him on. Phone cameras now eagerly followed me around the grid, desperate to gather some footage of me interacting with the Ferrari driver. All the attention had made me nervous, I was constantly checking over my shoulder, and I felt the cold stares other girls would give me, threatened that I was taking their favourite driver. It was almost like I was in competition with all these beautiful women that practically lived in or around the Grid and Paddock. I felt inferior, my own insecurities eating away at me as I kept my head down and continued walking on to do my own thing.

“Ah, Lila!” A familiar voice called out, I caught a glimpse of Toto walking by. “Hello!” I greeted, the taller man bringing me in for a tight hug. “How are you?! Here to see your brother?” “I’m good, how about you? I Just come for a little wonder, that’s all.” I nodded. “I’m good, and yes, yes- looking around for Leclerc I’ve been hearing?!” His words jabbed at a delicate part inside of me, burning my cheeks up a scarlet pink.

“Oh, rumours, Toto! Rumours!” I played it off like I wasn't a nervous wreck, but when i noticed red uniforms out of the corner of my eye, I practically jumped out of the confinements of my skin. It was just a handful of Ferrari mechanics making their way towards their garages. “Oh, of course. You have a good day, I will see you after with Susie?”

“Yeah of course! Oh, and tell Lewis and George I say good luck!!”

“I will, thank you Lila!” Hungary wasn’t so lucky for Mercedes or Ferrari. With Lewis in 4th he’d just narrowly missed a spot on the podium, George came in at 6th, and both Charles and Sainz were in 7th and 8th. As I lingered in the Mercedes area of the garage, people were still fairly happy, but the disappointment lingered in the room. It was a little stuffy and awkward, so I wondered outside to get air, pulling out my phone to be bold enough to text Charles. Just as I was typing a message, I heard a faint voice call my name. “Lila??” Spinning around, I locked my phone, noticing Charles lingering. “C’mere.” He gently ushered me inside, “hi.” I felt a little breathless, following after him in the garage. We were just inside the doorway, a bustle of people around making me feel a little overwhelmed. I was all flustered from seeing Charles, and although he looked a little saddened he still had a gentle smile lingering. “I was just about to text you.” I held up my phone as his smiled widened slightly, eyes gazing over my face. “I was going to text you-”

“Charles!” Somebody called out as he glanced back to a woman calling his name. It looked like his publicist. He let out a sigh, “I am sorry- yeah?!” He called out, scratching the back of his neck. “Will you come do a couple interviews?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Sorry, it’s a bad time.” I shyly spoke. “No, no, ill- uh, Mia!! Mia, please would you take Lila to my- ah what’s it called?” He fumbled as a pretty blonde approached with a smile.

“Motorhome?” Her accent was thick, Italian I assumed. “Yes please- is that ok?” He quickly asked as I giggled at the slight chaos. “That’s okay, Charles.” I agreed as he gave me a gentle pat on the arm before he had to rush off to complete interviews.

“Hello!! Lila isn’t it? I’m Mia.” She smiled. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” We engaged in small talk as she led me to Charles’ motor home. It surprisingly wasn’t awkward at all, I really liked Mia, I learnt she worked for Ferrari as a media and PR officer, super cool, I found it fascinating. Eventually though, she had to head back into the garage and I was left sitting alone, nervously awaiting Charles return.

“Guys… I’m in Charles’ motor home. Don’t ask me why, I don’t know why- he’s, he’s doing some interviews but I am shitting myself, how do I calm down?!” I quietly spoke into my phone, voice noting my friends as my leg jiggled anxiously. 10 minutes turned into 20, and nothing seemed to cool my nerves. I’d swallowed a full bottle of water and gone through 3 pieces of chewing gum and reapplied my lipgloss four times over. Finally, I heard voices, and when the door swung open my head lifted from my phone. My breath hitched seeing Charles, he looked a little stressed but still smiled when our eyes met. “I am sorry.” He exhaled, sliding the door shut behind him. “Oh, don’t be sorry!” I sat up a little straighter as he pulled a drink from his fridge. “Would you like one?” He glanced down to my empty water bottle. “Yes please. And yeah, don’t be sorry, I came at a bad time.” I caught the bottle as he gently threw it over.

“No, no.” His face scrunched. “I wanted to see you Lila, now is perfect. Even if the race didn’t go so … good.” He awkwardly laughed at himself as I drunk a little more water.

“You did drive well though, I was watching.” I pointed out. “Ah, thank you… not where I want to be though.”

“I know, I can imagine it’s frustrating, I feel like you and Carlos are doing everything right it’s just…” “Out of our control.” Charles finished my sentence as I nodded. “Still… we move.” He cleared his throat. “How have you been anyway, miss Lila, it’s been weeks?”

“Good, I’ve been good, honestly nothing so interesting has been happening lately. My life’s been pretty boring.”

“Pretty boring, sky diving?” He stripped the top half of his full driving suit off, revealing his white fireproofs. He was sat on the couch to my right, a little further away as I leant back into the plush of the pillows.

I let out a laugh, shaking my head. “I do that all the time, my dad practically threw me out of aeroplanes as soon as I reached 12.” “12?!” He gasped out loud, looking astonished. “I don’t even think it’s legal anymore, we were in Australia, I was petrified, I cried all the way up. The poor man on my back must’ve been so annoyed.”

“Sounds… fun.”

“When you get used to it…” I giggled. “How about you, have you ever been sky diving?” “One time in Dubai… I got so- eh what’s the English- en difficulté.” (In trouble).

“In trouble? Why?!” I blubbered our a laugh. “Because I didn’t tell anybody and uh- I think they were worried I would ah fall and die or something.”

“That wouldn’t have been good.” I snickered. “I have the videos.” He showed his phone, ushering me over as I moved to sit besides him on the couch. He scrolled through his camera roll, finding the video where he showed me plummeting down in Dubai. “Have you ever done it in Dubai?”

“Done what in Dubai?” My eyes narrowed as his widened. “Not that! I mean sky diving!!” “No we were meant to but we ah… went Skiing instead.” I awkwardly recalled, scratching the back of my neck. If only we went to Dubai, maybe things would have turned out very differently for my family.

“Ah nice..” Charles nodded as I glanced to see a video of a monkey on his screen. “What’s that?” I pointed out as he attempted to scroll by quickly.

“That was nothing.”

“No, a video of a monkey. On the floor.” I turned up to look at his lips tugging into an amused smile. “You really want to see it?”

“I do.” What Charles proceeded to show me was a video of a monkey physically chasing him around a group of people whilst he sprinted frantically away. I cried with laughter, watching it three times over as Charles shook his head, holding it in his hands.

“That’s- that’s too funny.” I giggled to myself as Charles let out a low chuckle. “You’re crying!” Charles exclaimed, laughing again himself as he rested a hand on my thigh.

“I can’t help it, that was so funny.” I wiped at the tears that had fallen from my ambush of laughter. “I was frightened… for my life.”

“I could tell.” I giggled, glancing down to see his hand still rested on my upper thigh. “I like you, Lila.” Charles spoke on an exhale as I turned to face him now. “Hm?” My smile perked as my laughter settled down.

“I really like you.” His brows furrowed, causing me to swoon at the serious expression that covered his face. “I like you too, Charles-” I casually responded.

“No, like.. I really like you.” He nodded as my lips parted slightly. “Yeah, so do I…” I whispered, gaining the confidence to move forwards and press a gentle kiss to his lips. It surprised me how quickly the kiss happened, Charles’ hand slipped over my cheek and I swear I had to hold onto his arm so I wouldn’t go dizzy from how intense I felt kissing him. It was more than good.

When we broke apart there was a second or so of silence, it was comfortable, his eyes were gazing over my face, a gentle smile lingered as I let out a slight breath of laughter. “I wanted to do that in Spain but the paparazzi ruined it.” My face heated remembering our date. “Oh yeah.” I brushed the lip gloss slightly off the outside of my lip. “Now your lips are shiny.” I pointed out as he laughed, throwing an arm around me, the other wiping at the gloss.

“How long are you in Hungary for?” He then asked, eyes flickering up and down over my lips again. “Ah, just until tomorrow.” Charles eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What about Belgium?”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Will you come? I’ll take you out before- and after.” Charles shrugged. “Before and after?!” “Yeah, and I’ll even get pole position for you…” interesting…

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles Leclerc x schuchmacher daughter #Charles leclerc x OC

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queerofthedagger · 1 year

Note

Here to take you up on your ficlet offer (pls send me a prompt if you like we can have a tiny fic exchange 💜) with this prompt from the "types of kiss" list:

One person stopping a kiss to ask “Do you want to do this?”, only to have the other person answer with a deeper, more passionate kiss.

For Dream/Hob or Arthur/Merlin, whatever speaks more to you. My ao3 is softestpunk 💜

Thank youu, I hope you'll like it! 💙 This is a bit later than it was meant to be, so happy belated Christmas? 😄<3

build your heart a home

Hob trips on the last step up to his flat. Dream reaches for him before he has made a conscious decision to do so.

It earns him a smile, which almost makes the failure to anticipate his own actions worth it. Almost.

“Still can’t believe you actually agreed to spend Christmas with me,” Hob mumbles as he tries to unlock his front door.

His words are slightly unsteady. Not slurred yet—he isn’t drunk in the unfocused, frenetic way that Dream is familiar with from the dreams that drift into his youngest sister’s realm—but he is tipsy. Tongue loose and hands a little lazy. Dream rather likes him like this, the thread of carefully concealed caution that Hob tends to display at all other times unspooled and tangling.

Dream swallows the repeated insistence that the concept of Christmas means little to him. When Hob finally pushes the door open, he says instead, “It was important to you.”

The hallway, when he follows inside, is dim; the only light comes from the yellowish gloom of the streetlamps outside, and the electric candles on Hob’s Christmas tree in the next room.

It feels awfully close to home, in the way that throughout the last year, Dream has spent a number of evenings here that he has lost count of long ago. In the way that he can hear Hob’s fond demand to leave his shoes in the hallway, and how he has a side on the sofa, now. How the tree—rich green and still smelling of pine—may be more dream object than real, because Dream had drawn the line at carrying a tree. Up the stairs.

Hob had laughed at him, and then his eyes had gone soft when Dream arrived with this one. Dream had rather liked that too. He rather likes all of it an awful lot.

When he looks at Hob, he finds him already watching, dark eyes fixed on Dream as if there is nothing he would rather look at.

“It was; you made a difficult night not only bearable but warm,” Hob says, voice soft.

Dream cannot remember ever having been called warm, and it unsettles something within his chest that seems impossible to thrust back into containment.

“I am glad,” he says. His fingers itch to reach out; he allows them to brush the sleeve of Hob’s jumper.

Between them, the air seems to shift, and Dream is not sure he could look away from Hob even if he wanted to.

The odds that, after months of this, Hob can read it all on his face are infinite. And yet.

As if to prove that point, Hob steps closer, certain despite his unsteady feet, and curls his fingers around Dream’s hipbones. There is a dare pressed into the slope of his mouth that Dream desperately wants to answer.

He fists his hands into the soft, well-worn fabric of Hob’s jumper and tugs.

Hob goes willingly; of course, he does. Dream cannot bring himself to feel anything but terrified awe at it.

“Stop thinking so much,” Hob murmurs, vowels tripping and swallowed, and then he presses his open mouth to Dream’s as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Perhaps it is; Dream’s pointless heart is thrashing inside his chest, and he sways on his feet. Thinks that if he is made to give this up, he might as well take the world down with him because what is the point of it if Hob’s lips are not pressed to his? If Hob’s tongue does not meet his, clever and certain, as Dream can feel barrier after barrier inside of him crumble?

Dream has been here before, though. He forces himself to pull back, to frame Hob’s face between his hands and look at him.

Hob does not seem willing to wait, pushing forward again, his mouth finding Dream’s, and it would be so, so easy to let himself drown in it. It would be so, so easy to believe that perhaps this time, it will be different.

When he pulls away from Hob a second time, Hob lets him.

The hallway is still dim and quiet around them. The tree still twinkles in the living room, and the world has not yet begun to collapse around them.

That is… promising.

“Are you sure that you want this?” Dream asks, and he does not rush the words, but it is the closest that he will get.

Hob laughs, a low, incredulous sound. It curls fondly around Dream’s bones as Hob simply kisses him again—with more force this time, teeth sinking into flesh and nails finding skin.

“If you leave again,” Hob breathes, eyes closed, “I will find you, no matter where you are. I am not letting you go again.”

The affection spills into Dream’s mouth so sweetly, there is nothing he can do but draw Hob impossibly closer and pour it down his throat.

Breaking the kiss again is inconceivable, so Dream does not. The words, when he thinks them, sink their way right into the marrow of Hob’s bones.

“I will not take my leave of you again,” he says, biting the vow of it into Hob’s tender mouth. “You will have no need to search for me.”

The sound Hob makes in response is beyond pleased; Dream rather plans to build himself a home out of that, too.

#the sandman #dreamling #dream x hob #sandman fic #mona's writing #they can have a little obsessive co-dependency; as a treat<3 #december gift-ficlets

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beanzfandoms · 2 years

Text

Your Love is a Bad Medicine

Dean Winchester x Sister! reader

Song: Bad Medicine - Bon Jovi

Warning: Separation anxiety

Description: Dean and his little sister are on their way to get Sam from college. Dean has to go somewhere, and the youngest Winchester is left in the room by herself. Her anxiety begins to act up while she waits for her brother to come back.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

(Y/n) tapped her foot anxiously against the dirty red carpet of the motel room. She sat in the green chair by the window, glancing through the blinds, into the parking lot.

The sun had gone down a while ago so the only illumination she had were the few door lights that actually worked. (Y/n) bit into her bottom lip, gnawing at the bruised skin as her anxiety peaked a bit more. The small box TV sitting on the dresser played in the background. Static flickered every now and again due to the bad quality of the motel. The young girl turned it on to distract herself from the road but the worry for her brother grew and grew over the night.

Dean had left hours before sunset and had not come back since. She knew he could handle himself but the worry that something bad could happen inundated through her mind, nonetheless. Slipping her fingers through to push the blinds open, she felt tears forming in her eyes when she still didn’t see the Impala turning into the motel.

(Y/n)’s throat began to clog up as she tried to stop from letting out a cry. She then glanced at her phone that was charging on the bed. Almost too quickly, she threw herself across and pulled the cell harshly off the plug. She instantly went into her contacts, her shaking finger hovering over Dean’s name. She pressed down, listening to the repeating ring coming from the phone.

However, the instant feeling of guilt spread through her. (Y/n) immediately went back to the home screen and sighed. She wouldn’t want to bother him because of her worries, especially if he was working. A few stray tears dropped, and she lies her head back on the flat pillows.

“Maybe listening to music will help,” the girl whimpered, turning the screen on and pressing the downloads she had. A smile reached her quivering lips as she saw the name of a song her and Dean like to sing together. She began to softly play it on her phone speaker. The beginning music resonated, causing her smile to widen.

Your love is like a bad medicine

Bad medicine is what I need

Whoa oh oh

Shake it up like a bad medicine

There ain’t no doctor that can cure my disease

(Y/n) turns it up as old memories began to resurface. She lifts herself, resting her elbows on the top of her knees. Leaving her phone in her lap, she reposed her head and closes her eyes, humming softly to the music.

I ain’t got a fever, got a permanent disease

And it’ll take more than a doctor to prescribe a remedy

I got lots of money but it isn’t what I need

Gonna take more than a shot to get this poison outta me

And I got all the symptoms, count ‘em, one, two, three

Suddenly, the door opens with an obnoxious voice singing along with the chorus. “Your love is like a bad medicine! Bad medicine is what I need!”

(Y/n) jumps from her spot and instantly turns off the song that was playing. Her eyes were wide with fright and her fingers twitched at her side.

Dean stood in front of the door, a few bags in hand. His brows furrow with confusion as he notices his little sister’s current state. He places the bags on the table that was beside the dresser, turning to (Y/n) with new concern. “What’s wrong, ankle-bitter?”

“N-nothing! I just wasn’t expecting you to barge through like that,” (Y/n) replies, mentally cursing for her nervous habits.

Dean gave his famous smirk, pulling his jacket off his shoulders. “Well, I thought you would be asleep until I heard music blaring. I guess we were both surprised.”

“Y-yeah.” (Y/n) simply replies as she got up on the bed again and watched Dean go into the bathroom to change.

After a few minutes, he comes out, plopping himself on the bed. “So, what have you been up to?” Dean asks, leaning himself on the headboard.

“Not much...” (Y/n) mumbled out with a shrug.

“(Y/n), is everything alright?” Another shrug was all he got. “Look at me.”

She felt stupid. He was right here but she felt tears swarming again. Why was she so scared?

“It’s nothing,” she said after a few breaths to calm herself.

“Sure doesn’t look like nothing,” Dean grumbles. He straightens himself to a sitting position, all humor gone from his eyes. “Come on, tell me what’s on your mind-- is it about Dad?”

“No! I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m worried about his safety but that’s not it.” (Y/n) replied quickly.

“So, something is bothering you?”

The youngest Winchester sighs with irritation. She hates it when Dean does this. He knows just what to say and he will press on until she confesses.

“I was worried about you, that’s all.”

“Why? I was only out for a couple of hours,” Dean questions.

“I-I know... doesn’t mean something bad couldn’t happen within those nine hours,” (Y/n) mutters in embarrassment.

“You were counting time... is that why you called? I was going to answer but you hung up before I could.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. You get nervous, I get it,” Dean trivializes, “but hey, we’re both here.”

“Yeah,” (Y/n) agreed, smiling slightly at him.

“Get some sleep. We gotta a good drive tomorrow,” Dean said, smiling in return.

(Y/n) nodded, situating herself to a laying position on the bed. She felt Dean shift too, resting on his back. “Hey Dean...” she asks, while closing her eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think Sam will be glad to see us?”

“I don’t know... I guess we’ll have to wait and see. Sleeping would help pass the time.”

“Yeah, yeah. Goodnight.”

“Night (Y/n).”

Your love is like a bad Medicine

Bad medicine is what I need

Whoa oh oh

Shake it up like a bad medicine

You got the potion that can cure my disease

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mashiee · 11 months

Note

Arlo family lore plspls its beneficial to my health

OKAY SO

so i got another ask specifically about [REDACTED] so im gonna talk abt that in a separate ask

BUT i will tell u abt my ocs for arlos fam (almost exclusively on his dads/valeries side, havent thought abt mom much) and general stuff for them and their relationships w eachother and arlo specifically

OKAY SO

i gave Arlo four older siblings because why the hell not and i can (i will get to the parents later)

also while im thinking abt it, im unsure abt Arlo's last name but im thinking Kingston right now

OKAY ANYWAY

also i just wanna say that when made character names i usually just smash sound together until i find something i like and hope it isnt a slur in another language

so what im saying is none of the names have any relevance or importance i just like their sounds and how they look

the first oc is Mammi (pronounced like ma'am-ee)

hes the oldest of the five of them, as of current uno time hes 25

he/him

amab cismasc

haven't decided sexuality. probably gay bc im gay and i self project too much

anyway he currently works with the authorities and is in a relatively high ranking position

but surprise surprise hes a spy for [ERROR]

(a secret organization :) also has a whole Thing that would require a separate post. a lot of new characters and also some world building. plus it also kind of plays into my bod au/rei fic)

but unfortunately the authorities are all fucking idiots and no one would even think of suspecting him

Valeire is the only one who does (she basically Knows) bc their father (her brother) was against a lot of the things the authorities did

but she has absolutely no proof so she cant do anything :)

fun fact Mammi and the entirety of Arlo's sibling except for Arlo himself all Loathe Valerie

2 of them want her dead

one would actively make an attempt on her life themselves if they ever saw her again

pst psst Mammi is the former

anyway Mammi is Tall (TM)

atm his height is fluctuating between 6'5 and 6'6 bc i cant choose

i just think itd be hysterical if Arlo's entire family on his dad's side were all giants

speaking of that let me take this time to tell you that Arlo is the youngest in his family aside from his mom and Valerie because i thought it'd be really funny

bc Mammi is in the authorities he often wears a suit and let me tell you this man looks fine as hell

not all men can work a suit but this one can

i still havent drawn any of the siblings except for a bit of the next one so my visuals of them are all p vague and could absolutely change but as of now

Mammi has long straight blond hair that roughly reaches his waist

its usually in a low ponytail

he has gold eyes :)

not sure what i want his ability to be yet (obviously a shield variant but what exactly) or how powerful

now for the lovely sister of the family

so the next one is Luss (pronounced how it's spelled)

shes 24 :)

she/her pronouns trans woman

6'4

lesbian

a model who travels quite a lot

long curly hair and gold eyes

always wearing red lipstick

a bit mischievous

her ability is... well its honestly kind of useless on its own

she can make shields that are full orbs but theyre only about the size of a fist

she did find out that they hurt if u throw them at ppl tho, esp if u put stuff in them

not sure what level yet. maybe a flat 6.0 . or maybe even like a 5.9 if i wanna get angsty and make like her family disappointed in her for not being a god tier or smth

very caring about her family

very forgiving person to a fault

strongly believes in second chances

Luss is the closest to Mammi

but she doesn't really feel like she has anyone close to her

(which ends up being a huge bonding point between her and Arlo)

tries her best to keep their family together but it's pretty futile

tries to be optimistic and cheerful and such but it's all an act

would do anything for her family, especially her siblings

sees herself a lot in Arlo for what little she's seen of him

and then we have the twins

as stated above, theyre twins

the older one is Sade, and Kallo is idk like two mins younger or smth

theyre both 21

Sade uses they/them pronouns and is nonbinary

Kallo uses he/they and like. he knows he's masculine but he isnt like a man or male

hes keeping his gender unlabeled but sometimes says its homeboy bc he thinks its funny

tbh im not sure what assigned gender at birth i want either of them to be so im just not gonna choose 🤷

both are 6'4 1/2 or sth

the twins are very separated from the rest of the family they want nothing to do w them

they both dont like Mammi

and hate Valerie

Sade wants her dead and if Kallo ever saw her again he'd lunge

they tolerate Luss and don't dislike her but it's not their favorite to be around her

they don't have any feelings towards Arlo

Sade is a fashion designer and occasionally works with Luss, occasionally

Kallo is a mechanic

originally i had him as a surfer dude but i decided not to

the twins live a long long way away from Wellston and the rest of the family and have no intention of ever going back

theyre both closest to eachother obviously

they both have a lot of trust issues (all of them do) and only really trust eachother

again not sure about abilities

might want Kallo to have some variation of his mom's rather than their dads tho, or maybe a combo of both

i think ill keep Sade w a shield variant

also dk abt sexuality 🤷

i feel like at least one of them would be aro or ace tho. maybe like one is aro and the other is ace lol

ok so now that im done w the siblings

mr dad man's name is Vickaius. hes Valerie's brother. not sure if i want him to be older or younger.

he has long yellow hair (usually up in a pony tail) and gold eyes

yes im terrible and am making him an attractive dilf you cant stop me i have no self control

if it makes u feel any better i'll probably make the mom a milf too

anyway

i kinda wanna give him a scar or two and/or an eyepatch

def a god tier. some type of shield ability. i think i want him to be like a 7.1

he/him or he/she not sure what i want

tbh probably bisexual but thinks he's straight for whatever reason

6'5-7 or smth

fun fact he's currently in jail :)

the moms name is Ariella and she has curly hair and blue eyes. im not sure if i want her to have blonde or brown hair

i dont have much to say abt her tbh. not bc i dont care abt her but like. in my arlo fam plot while she is relevant and important she isnt like. you dont need to know about her. if that makes sense

i do know that i want her to be exactly a whole foot shorter than Vickaius bc i think its hilarious

context for post: arlo hcs

other related stuff: [REDACTED]

#ARLO FAMILY LORE ?????? REAL????#SORRY I GOT THIS OUT SO LATE THIS TOOK AWHILE TO WRITE I KEPT PROCRASTINATING IT #my posts #unordinary #webtoon unordinary #unordinary webtoon #unordinary arlo #arlo unordinary #oc #headcanons

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scorpiongrassfield · 11 months

Text

Pat Seems Annoyed

Start | Prev

“Sorry about that. Courtney—That’s my kid sister, Theo— was calling again to see if I would lend her money. You know how it is, Sylv,” they say with another sigh.

You don’t know how it is, actually. For some reason you were under the impression that Pat was an only child.

“Oh! I also have a sister named Courtney,” Theo says, surprised.

Pat laughs. “What are the odds?”

Then, they lean in conspiratorially. “Is your Courtney a spoiled brat with a violent temper like mine is?”

Theo doesn’t meet Pat’s eyes, looking down into his bowl of soup instead. “Well. I would not phrase it like that…” he says.

“How would you phrase it?” you prod.

Theo’s gaze snaps to you, as if you startled him. “Ah. Well. I suppose I would say… that she is very used to getting her way and doesn’t… quite know how to handle it when she does not,” he says carefully.

“Wow. What are the odds that there’s two of them,” Pat marvels.

Theo nods in agreement.

“Sylv here is an only child,” Pat says, gesturing to you. “And I’ve only got the one sister, thank heavens. How about you?”

“Ah. I have two sisters. Courtney and Lauren. Lauren is the youngest,” Theo says. He looks sad.

“Don’t get along with her?” Pat continues to pry.

“Well. I mean. I do get along with her. She just. Isn’t very fond of having me for an older brother,” Theo says with a meaningful look.

“Ah, gotcha. Didn’t mean to pry. We can talk about something else if you’d like,” Pat says, sweeping the rest of the potential conversation under the rug.

“Ah, don’t worry. You couldn’t have known,” Theo says apologetically. Like he’s the one that said something wrong.

The waiting brings food for you and Pat, which is weird since you don’t remember ordering anything.

Pat looks unsurprised though, so you roll with it.

You aren’t really hungry, even if the grilled cheese looks tasty.

Pat gives you a Look and nudges the plate closer to you. You give them a flat look back, but they refuse to look away until you take a bite.

It definitely doesn’t taste as good as it looks. Or at all, really.

You kind of wonder if you don’t have anosmia or something.

But then again, you could taste the food the shadow gave you just fine.

Maybe you don’t have anosmia in your dreams?

Though you can’t be sure that what happens in the woods and the cabin are dreams.

You did wake up there first. How do you know that this isn’t the dream instead?

“Right, kid?” Pat says, snapping you out of your existential crisis.

The look on your face must be funny because Pat is clearly trying not to laugh at you.

“Spacing out again?” they ask.

You shake your head.

“Good. Come participate in the conversation, then. I was just telling Theo that his house is haunted, possibly even by a ghost other than the one we’re investigating,” they say.

“Um. I really don’t think-” Theo starts, but Pat talks over him.

“The shadow?” Pat says. The ‘duh’ is unspoken in words but palpable in tone.

Oh.

Well that’s as good an explanation as any for a shadow person, you suppose.

“Uh, yeah…” you agree, but you don’t sound convincing even to your own ear.

Theo doesn’t seem to mind.

“Oh. What kind of ghost is it?” Theo asks.

You look to Pat for the answer.

They just gesture for you to talk.

You aren’t sure if they want you to get more practice talking to people, or if they want you to talk so they have more time to eat their patty melt.

Oh well.

“It’s… Friendly?” you hedge.

“Ah. That’s probably good news. But um. How do you know that? If he lives. Or well. Not lives I suppose. If he resides within my house?” Theo asks.

“I met it outside your house. In the woods. It helped me when I got lost and seemed pretty nice overall,” you say. You don’t mention your trip inside the cabin, since Theo doesn’t seem to remember welcoming the two of you inside at all.

Theo nods agreeably, but then his face sours with confusion again.

“If you met him in the woods, how do you know that he’s not the ghost you’re investigating?” he says, unusually pointed.

That’s… a fair point. You technically don’t know for sure, but…

“Aren’t ghosts that have been murdered less friendly and more angry?” you ask, mostly directed towards Pat. who gives you a thumbs up.

Their hair is tied back again. You refuse to spare a moment to wonder when that happened.

“Oh. So you... decided it was definitely a murder, then?” Theo doesn’t look enthusiastic about this possibility. He’s gone pale again.

#choose your own adventure #interactive fiction #writeblr #original writing

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dragondreamsanddangerousdeals · 1 year

Text

History repeats itself

Hello! This is a drabble that I worked on for a bit of an idea thats bounced around my head for a while! If yall want I also posted this over on ao3!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43704496

If you want to read it here instead its just under the cut! (hopefully)

Aegon doesn't understand why they have to go to Dragonstone, he really doesn't. But if the visit is as interesting as the ship ride over, maybe he can find a reason to enjoy the visit.

or a take on the boat scene from episode 4 and how history might start to repeat itself.

He really did not want to be on this ship.

Aegon groaned as he slumped against the ship's railing, staring down into the endless sea as the royal ship made its way toward Dragonstone. The crew was milling about behind him, ensuring the boat was in working order and staying on course. Aegon didn’t understand why they had to take a ship instead of just flying to Dragonstone. Sunfyre would have loved to stretch his wings and get to fly for such a great distance, Aegon was sure of it, and he himself would have much preferred the company of his dragon over that of his family. Well, except maybe Helaena. She was currently telling their youngest brother about insects and dragons, about the stories she read about Old Valyria since Daeron hasn’t had the chance to learn them, with him being sent away to Old Town.

During his reminiscing Aemond had come to stand beside him, watching Aegon with a mix of exasperation, annoyance, and curiosity as Aegon gathered his wits enough to stand straight so that he could watch Aemond back.

“Mother has told me to inform you that we will be arriving at Dragonstone within an hour.” His brother turned away from him to watch the mist that was surrounding the ship.

“Well, our Dear Mother is probably overjoyed to finally see our Eldest Sister.” He still remembered how his mother would talk about Rhaenyra and her sons, how she’d call them bastards, and every time Aegon would see a glimpse of what he could only describe as a mix between heartbreak and longing.

If Aegon was honest, he didn’t know what to think of the enigmas that are his nephews. Rhaenyra had left for Dragonstone early into her first pregnancy, Aegon knew that- remembered the hurt that followed days after as his sister left him- and he knew that every time she did visit she left her children in the care of Ser Qarl. When the king asked, Rhaenyra had said that both she and Laenor trusted the man greatly and were confident in leaving their children with him.

“We’ve never even met them, you know” Aegon looked out into the fog “I don’t see why we have to now. I'm sure it's just because father misses his favorite child” he turned towards his younger brother, looking past his shoulder to where he could see their father, mother, and grandfather talking as they stood amongst the throng of bustling sailors, “you think he did something to make Rhaenyra angry or did something to make Daemon angry?” Aegon focused back onto Aemond as he asked, watching his brother's expression remain flat before he responded

“Rhaenyra.” Aemond glanced to the side when he heard footsteps approaching, watching as Helaena and Daeron joined them, “you’ve heard the stories of how father left our uncle to his own devices when they were fighting.”

Aegon nodded “you do make a fine point-” he stopped when there was shouting, turning to follow the sailors as some moved to the front of the boat as the bow of the ship finally broke free from the sea fog.

It took his breath away, the sight of Dragonstone. The home of his family and the current residence of his half-sister and her family. Aegon didn’t quite know how he felt about meeting them if he was honest, but if being here allowed him time to explore the fortress more he’d gladly take the chance.

Almost as soon as he saw Dragonstone he heard Daeron shout, tugging on their sister's skirts as he tried to get her attention. When Aegon looked over to his youngest brother, he was confused to see him looking up , pointing at the fog where the ship had just left. It was then when Aegon heard the whistling, the people of the ship stopping as they turned to where the sound came from. Both Aegon and Aemond were looking up towards the clouds where now the sound of wings could be heard, shouting started just as soon before a red blur burst from the fog and sped past the ship, causing it to rock.

Aegon had managed to catch himself on the boat's railing, gaining a lap full of Daeron since the child had stumbled forward from the rocking. Aemond was in a similar predicament with their sister, Helaena having fallen as well, but both of his siblings were watching as the red dragon flew towards Dragonstone.

Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm, and the dragon of Daemon Targaryen. Aegon’s awe of the dragon abruptly ended when Daeron elbowed him in the stomach, having scrambled up to watch and wave at the smaller dragon that kept pacing with the royal ship.

The dragon was much smaller than Caraxes, its green scales having blended in perfectly with the fog as opposed to the Blood Wyrms' much brighter scales. Upon a closer look, Aegon could just make out the person riding the dragon, their hair appeared to be brown and their riding clothes seemed a mix of black and blue. He could even make out that the rider was waving back at Daeron before the green dragon let out a small roar whenever one from Caraxes reached back to the ship and both rider and dragon flew away towards Dragonstone.

When everyone had stood again and both dragons had disappeared from sight, Aegon and his siblings approached their father. Viserys looked overjoyed as he talked about the dragons to their grandfather and mother. He turned to Aegon when his siblings reached him and Viserys laughed as he clapped his eldest son on the shoulder “How was your introduction to your Uncle Daemon and your Nephew Jacaerys? Quite exciting wasn’t it?”

While Daeron launched into another set of questions, Aegon looked back to Dragonstone. That was his nephew? He simply hummed along as the conversation progressed, one thing on his mind.

He couldn’t wait to meet Jacaerys.

#house of the dragon #aegon x jacaerys #aegon ii #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #daeron targaryen #this is based off episode 4 from HotD #and also my love from Vermax and Jace #theyre my favorites #drabble #pre aegon x Jace #I forgot one tag my bad

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kiexen · 8 months

Note

re: these gays, did you prefer the book over the movie/vice versa or if you didn't have a real preference, what were some differences you noticed or appreciated or disliked

the movie was good but the book was BETTER.

i'm gonna say this is a whole lot of spoilers for red white and royal blue for anyone else who sees this, because i know you won't watch or read it. so it doesn't matter. anyway. and also i guess i'm putting this under a readmore. feels like a lot of words about nothing.

justice for june i cannot believe they cut her out ENTIRELY. [june is alex's older sister. she just straight up does not exist in the movie which is a travesty i love her so much] there is So much missed characterization. and a whole large plot point that is missed because of other cut characters and a lot of it i know can be chalked up to for timing and pacing but :/ there was also a few really minor changes that didn't really make sense to me to have needed to be changed? idk. they changed henry's royal side of his last name, and that just did not make sense to me as to why. in the book, the reigning monarch is a queen; in the movie, a king. why? [makes i don't know sound] also on the topic of siblings, i'm almost completely certain the book told me henry was the youngest and his sister was older. in the movie, his sister is the youngest and her characterization just. does not feel the same. everything about her was cut out. all of it.

there were a few other minor changes that i liked, and some that i liked, but i am glad we have both versions? if that makes sense? there's this scene like, ¾ths of the way through where henry takes alex to the v&a and talks about how his dad [movie, it was both parents in the book but yk. his mum doesn't exist in the movie, either. also a travesty.] took him to that museum a lot before he died and now henry sneaks in a lot. he was going on about how he used to fantasise about bringing the man he loves there and slow dancing amongst the statues. in the book, henry then puts music on and invites alex to dance. in the movie, henry doesn't even get to finish his sentence about it being a "daft prepubescent fantasy" before alex pulls his phone out behind him and puts music on while he's still talking, before dancing with him. and idk i just. really like the idea of alex being the one to initiate it more than it having been hen. [also, in the book, henry played "your song" of elton john's. in the movie, alex plays "can't help falling in love" and both just make me so. mmmmm.] a little later when alex is preparing to leave back to america, hen gives alex his signet ring [which, info dump within an info dump time, if you don't know, signet rings are the like. flat ones that usually have a family crest on it. it's an identifier.] in the book, alex slides it onto the chain he always wears, which also holds the key to his family home, he started wearing it when they moved into the white house. which yk. the symbolism of having both his homes together. very tasty. in the movie, however, after hen gives him his ring, alex gives henry the key necklace and is later seen wearing the ring on his hand instead. which, i believe, is a little bit of a call back to a movie only line way earlier [the book directly contradicts this quote, actually.] where alex is explaining the key and henry says he's never actually owned a key before. so now he does. i love both of these versions of this interaction so very much

there were a couple of scenes or lines that were movie only that i did enjoy, but most of my favourites were either in the book, or both. most of my issues with the movie stem from what is normal content loss in adaptations

#will speaks #just came back from a rewatch with the intent of comparing to the book to this ask which was an opportunity to babble about this served on a #silver platter. thank u da #also thinkin about a scene that i think would have killed me seeing it. it never would have made it to the movie bc they cut the character #alex was arguing with. but.#he pretty much gets told he's lucky he's bisexual because he could just find a nice girl and settle down and it wouldn't even be a lie #to which alex in reply screamed in anguish in spanish “it would be a lie because it wouldn't be HIM” and i think that would have broke me #hearing and seeing that.#[it was in spanish bc he couldn't risk people overhearing him saying it. he shouldn't have even said it at all to who he was talking to.]#[politically.]#anyway it's been like an hour since i finished the movie it's almost 5am i am going to sleep. if i have more words about this later maybe #i'll reblog this. or put it in the replies. who knows

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super-unpredictable98 · 2 years

Text

The Unavoidable | Me and Mrs. Jones AU

Pairing: Billy x Saga (Me and Ms. Adolphson’ Verse) Word Count: 2,8 k Warning: Strong language

(Masterlist)

"Should I be worried, S? You left the house twice this month, once for your sister's hen night and once to pick the twins up from school. But even then you were covered from head to toe, Alfie told me people thought you were a child predator," Billy laughed, sitting by his girlfriend on the couch.

"Welcome home from work, my dear, I missed you too!" Saga laughed nervously.

"Who you runnin' from? Any stalker I should know about?"

"No... It's just... I heard my father is in England," she admitted quietly, and Billy's heart dropped.

He knew she wasn't embarrassed of him or anything like that, she was more scared of her family than anything else, but it still hurt that she was that terrified of being seen with him.

Most of the time he felt like a mildly successful guy: he had a good job (it wasn't a five-star hotel restaurant, but still), he had a nice flat, and he could afford to take Saga out and buy nice gifts for her. He was faithful and loving, she seemed happy with him.

"How are we gonna do this at the wedding? Are you gonna tell him or am I just Alfie's friend when I'm there?" He asked hesitantly.

"I- I'm gonna tell him, of course. I don't wanna have to pretend like you're not my boyfriend, I love you!" Saga cried. "Besides, he's not gonna throw a tantrum during Inca's wedding. My brothers will be there too, I think they'll like you, they just want to see me happy."

"You sure? I heard your brothers are quite big, if they don't like me, I'm pretty much fucked."

"No, they are big but they are also really nice."

Billy nodded, trying to believe her. He was usually so great at meeting parents, his natural charm always made them like him, but this time he was the bad boy who stole the girl away from the man her dad chose. That thought had been haunting him ever since they started dating.

"What are their names? Y'never talk about your family," he pointed at the plastic bag on the table with the meal he prepared for her before closing the kitchen.

"My mum's name is Kajsa, she was a model when she was my age, but now she's a housewife. People say Inca and I look a lot like her, she's the best mom in the world and nothing you say can change my mind. My dad, Ivar, has his own menswear brand he created with my grandpa. He is very strict, but he does what he does because he loves us. He just wants what's best for me."

"Mmmhm I see, I see..." Billy nodded. He absolutely didn't like her father, not after learning that he essentially forced Saga to date Ake despite her protests. Ivar sounded like a huge control freak who treated his kids as property, but for everyone's sake, he was willing to ignore those feelings and be nice to the old man. "And your brothers?"

"Noak is the oldest, he works with my dad and he is very uptight, he always used to tell our parents when I did something wrong. Esbjorn is a lawyer and he loves to read, especially the classics, he's really smart. Then there's Inca, and Goran is the second youngest, he is an athlete, he swims for his college team."

"And then there's you, the little family princess protected by all these people," he chuckled as he watched her happily eat her spaghetti and meatballs. "I'm fucked."

"No, you are not! They will love you just like I do, you are a good man, a great catch, Billy. If my dad or my siblings can't see that, then it sounds like a them problem, I'm not gonna give up my happiness for them anymore."

Billy wasn't so sure they would even give him a chance. An Irish nomad who just settled in England, working as a chef, but at a small pub and with a salary that wouldn't impress anyone. Living in a flat with one chair and who just happened to swoop in and win the heart of a, let's face it, rich Swedish heiress. He loved her to bits, but was that enough for her family?

As the days passed by, he tried to focus on his groomsman duties and work, ignoring his doubts and doing the best he could to hide them from his very perceptive girlfriend. When the day finally came, the nerves were at an all time high, but for a moment everything disappeared:

"You look... Gorgeous, Saga," Billy swallowed when she came out of his room in her long emerald green dress.

It was quite a simple outfit, Inca would never let the bridesmaids upstage her in any way, but Saga made it look like a masterpiece. Her hair up exposed her long neck and her delicate collar bones, the slit that exposed her beautiful thigh... It all made his heart skip a beat and send blood somewhere else.

"Thank you, sweetie, you look very handsome too," she stepped closer to fix his tie and his hair. "When our wedding happens, you are definitely not wearing gray again."

"We're gettin' married?" He chuckled.

"I would like to one day, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, of course, I just- we never discussed that. I thought you'd be horrified with commitment after all that happened."

"I am, but not when it comes to you. I want to be with you for as long as I can, being with you is like being home."

"That is so beautiful, darlin'," he smiled, taking in the sight of her so he would never forget it. "And what color would you want me t'wear for our wedding?"

"I don't know, maybe blue, or deep red."

"Sounds good t'me, as long as I'm marryin' you I'll wear a diaper for all I care," he offered his arm for her to hold. "Let's go, Tom is already waitin' downstairs."

——————————————————

"I am starting to lose my mind!" Inca cried, pacing from one side of the room to the other.

"Hey, hey, calm down," Saga took her hands while Gemma simply watched awkwardly from the side. Calming the bride was a job for the bridesmaids of course, so they both had to be there. "Look at me, Inca! You are going to be fine."

"What if I'm making a mistake?"

"You won't know until you make it and it's better to make a mistake and fix the mess later than to never try and never know how things could've been."

"Divorce is always an option, don't feel like your life is over," Gemma said, but quickly shut her mouth when Saga glanced at her. "I don't think you're making a mistake."

"You married Jason once and it didn't work, maybe I am!" Inca panted, she was starting to look even paler if that was possible. "This dress is too big, it's suffocating me! I'm needing to change."

"It's okay, you are just anxious, sister! You love this dress because it's too big, it's gonna look amazing in the photos. You'll look perfect, and you are going to be so happy with your husband. I meant what I said that one time, Jason is an idiot, but he is a good person. You are perfect together, there's nothing to worry about."

"Are you sure, Saga? You really think so?"

"I am one hundred percent sure."

"Okay, I'm ready! Go on, I'm going to be preparing for my big entrance."

The two bridesmaids ran into the church and took their places at the altar. Billy gave them a questioning look and Saga gave him a thumbs up, nodding with a smile. Her face changed completely though when she noticed her father sitting on the first row with her mother and brothers.

It had been a while since they had seen each other. Saga purposefully avoided calling or texting so she could escape the questions about her love life and whenever Ake came up in conversation, she simply made up an excuse to hang up.

During the ceremony, she allowed herself not to think about that and simply focus on her sister and that big moment. Saga had never been so grateful for Inca being such an attention seeker, who would even look at her when that beautiful bride with that massive fairytale dress was standing right there?

But there was only so much that could be done to avoid the unavoidable. After the pictures everyone headed to the reception, Billy opened the car door for his girlfriend and once again offered his arm so they could go in together.

"Would you rather walk in alone?" He asked just to make sure.

"No, being with you makes me feel safe."

"Saga! Have you been running from us?" Esbjorn laughed, taking her in his arms and lifting her in the air. "We are all missing you so much."

"I miss you too, I've just been so busy. Work and babysitting for Gemma..." She murmured.

"Hmmm you have your lying voice, Sag," Noak quirked an eyebrow and Billy cleared his throat uncomfortably, none of them seemed to even notice he was there. "Come on, what really happened? Are you being mistreated in England?"

"Mistreated? Look at her!" Goran teased, giving her stomach a squeeze. "She gained some weight, she's been eating well! That's really good, remember how she was always moping around right before moving? Saga is looking much happier!"

"Yes, I see that," her father joined them. "Looking much happier indeed. I missed that smile."

"You look beautiful, baby, so beautiful! Soon you'll be the one standing there in a wedding dress," her mother added. "Speaking of, where is Ake? I thought he moved here to be closer to you."

"Haven't you heard? Ake moved back home actually," Saga chuckled nervously. "It's been a few months, we are... Not together anymore."

"What? He broke up with you?" Noak asked.

"He wouldn't dare..." Ivar muttered.

"No! He didn't, it was mutual. None of us were happy, he didn't want to live here and I didn't really like him anymore," she explained.

"Didn't like him anymore? And since when is that a reason to be breaking up? I found you a great boy!"

"I'm grown, father, I'm a woman now. Don't you think I have the right to choose who I want to be with?"

"And who could possibly be better than Ake for you, Saga?" Kajsa asked.

"M-my boyfriend," she pointed at him, and he finally approached the family, his legs barely holding him up straight. "His name is William Delaney, but everyone calls him Billy. He's a chef and we are living together most of the time, that's probably why I gained some weight. He is amazing, so smart, hardworking, and kind. He has a heart of gold and makes me really happy."

"Hello, sir," Billy shook Ivar's hand and did the same to each of her brothers before delicately greeting Kajsa. "It's a pleasure to meet you all."

"Why does he talk like that?" Goran asked.

"Because he's Irish," Saga mumbled. "He also just moved to the country recently with his friend Alfie. Alfie is Gemma's son, Gemma was married to Jason, and Jason is now marrying Inca, so he's not just some stranger."

The silence that took over that conversation was deadly. No one dared to speak and Saga's dad still seemed very upset about the end of her relationship with Ake. She knew that would happen, she shouldn't have introduced them at all, maybe just trying to be totally invisible during the wedding would've been better.

"I see you are meeting the Irish! mammy, pappy, Billy is fantastic!" Inca showed up out of nowhere to save the day. "He is such nice little boy, so funny too. And handsome, of course, they are going to have beautiful babies."

"Babies?" Saga hissed.

"Are you...?" Esbjorn's eyes grew wide.

"NO! I'm not, no chance at all!" Saga shook her head and Billy quickly followed her lead.

"Yeah, I guess Inca meant after we are married, in a few years," he added.

"You plan to marry our sister?" Noak gave him the most skeptical look.

"Absolutely, she's the most amazing girl I've ever met and I'd be a complete idiot t'let her go. Especially after I fought so hard t'have her... You know, sir, she really tried t'make things work with Ake. I was foamin' at the mouth with jealousy all the time, she did the best she could. But I guess in the end love always wins, isn't it?"

"You love this man, Saga?" Ivar asked, Kajsa already melting from how sweet he was and how clear his intentions were.

"I do, more than anything in the world," she took his hand. "And if you still don't like him, please come over tomorrow for dinner, he's the most amazing cook."

"Oh yeah, I'd love t'make somethin' for my future in-laws, whatever you want," Billy offered. "I can even make a typical Swedish dish if you like."

"He's being so nice, Ivar," Kajsa sighed, completely mesmerized. "Wasn't that what we wanted? For her to be happy? Back when you chose Ake she was so sad, don't you remember?"

"She was always crying," Inca added. "And it's the 21st century, forcing your child to be with someone like that is not right."

"I do remember, I thought it was just jitters, I didn't think she was actually unhappy," he scoffed sadly. "Well, if you are really serious about marrying my Saga and not just make her wait around like this bastard Jason did to my Inca... Then you have my blessing."

"You have my word Mr. Adolphson," Billy nodded, trying not to seem too giddy from getting his approval. He could've sworn the night would go a very different way.

"Thank you, pappy," Saga grinned widely.

"But I will be coming over tomorrow, William," Ivar warned. "If you are not making a good janssons frestelse, I guess you are just not good enough for my daughter. It's her favorite dish, you need to be cooking it."

"I'll do my best, Mr. Adolphson. May I have your next dance, Mrs. Adolphson?" he held out his hand and she took it, blushing slightly.

"Of course, young man."

"Sweet! C'mon Sags, let's get this party started!" Alfie pulled her by the hand to the dance floor, still holding a couple of scotch eggs and munching on them.

"Maybe we were lucky, pappy," Goran pointed out. "Saga could be dating him."

——————————————————

"So that went well!" Billy loosened his tie as they finally arrived at the flat. "Your family is way less scary than I imagined."

"I told you. I knew dad wouldn't react too badly at her wedding. Maybe on any other day he would've beat you up, but we got lucky, didn't we?" Saga kicked off her shoes and collapsed on the sofa.

"Good t'know," he laughed. "You're a good strategist. Now y'just gotta teach me that dish he wants. What is it?"

"Oh, it's very easy, it's like a fish and potato casserole, I can teach you," she pulled him down with her and leaned against his chest, remembering how they danced after everything was settled. How he held her so close, swaying gently to the music and stealing kisses when nobody was looking.

"I think I can manage," Billy wrapped his arms around her. "Guess now I better start thinkin' about how I'm gonna propose t'you."

"There's still so much time," Saga laughed.

"When the time comes... I need t'plan ahead, I wanna top Jason's confession when he asked your sister to grab his steady horn so he could take her on a magical adventure right after settin' fire to himself."

"Yeah, that'll be very hard to top," she nodded with a giggle. "But I guess you already know what to say. Remember that time? Jason made you pretend like I was Inca and propose to me? You are my perfect person and I see you perfectly."

Her heart raced just thinking about that day, the kiss that came after... She couldn't believe she was actually his girlfriend, that he actually liked her.

It felt like a dream most of the time when he looked at her with that charming smirk, when he kissed her and it still felt like the first time, chest to chest in the bathroom the first night they met.

"I wanna find new words," Billy explained. "I wanna find a whole new way to surprise you and make you say yes."

"I'm the luckiest girl in the world," she mumbled without even realizing it.

"And I'm the luckiest guy in the world. I'm glad I didn't give up, sometimes I feel like a complete homewrecker, but... When y'look at me like that, it's hard t'feel guilty at all."

#me and ms adolphson #me and mrs jones fanfic #me and mrs jones #billy delaney x oc #billy delaney #fanfic #robert sheehan character fic #robert sheehan fanfic

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dottiwu · 2 years

Text

I’m walking down the street in London. I’ve been here for two weeks now, managed to catch up with my Londoner friends, but one of my best friends from school has just flown in to visit her parents - so it’s time to do some tourist-y stuff with a fellow tourist!

I turn round the last corner to her parents’ flat, checking the number of each block. Yep, 72. I press the buzzer - “oh my god! Hi! Can you give me five mins?” Alice asks.

“Yep, sure! I’m in no rush.” I reply, “see you soon.”

The door swings open. It’s you. I stop breathing for a second. You lock eyes with me. I turn away and face the street. I don’t say anything.

“Dotti!” I turn around. Alicia’s here. And you’re still standing there.

“I thought you were going off, Rudy. Why are you still here?” You shrug.

“Dotti! Do remember my brother?”

How could I forget? You. I saw you just four months ago.

“Oh, of course!” I start smiling before Alicia can notice anything, “Rudy, right? It’s been, ages. You’ve grown so much. And you’ve grown a mullet.”

“Yeah,” you mumble. I know, I’ve seen it before, but what else am I going to say?

“Wow, you’re quiet, Rudy. Anyway, we have to go off now for our booking.” Alicia links arms with me and we begin walking off. I struggle to not to turn around, wondering what your face is doing.

“We’ll see him later,” Alicia says.

“Oh, what!”

“Yeah, I asked him to come out tonight.”

“And he said yes?”

“Yeah, of course.”

I pause. “Did he know I was here?”

“Yeah! I mean, no, kinda. He knew a friend of mine was here.”

“Oh, right. I just, I get the feeling I make him uncomfortable.”

Alicia laughs. “No! It’s probably because he used to like you.”

“What?”

Alicia’s beaming. “He’ll have fun!”

She doesn’t know. We kissed four years ago. And we spent one night together four months ago.

Before coming out tonight, I asked Alicia not to leave without me. Even if I was having the time of my life. I just, don’t want to be alone with a stranger whom I’ve just met in a foreign country. Too much could go wrong.

“I’m so sorry, I have to go.” Finn takes my number while I grab my things. Then, I leave the bar and follow the Aussie crew out.

“Aw, shit. I suddenly need to pee!” Alex says running back into the club.

“Okay, you go,” her sister replies.

“Alicia, you go with her. I’ll take care of Rudy,” the words fall out of my mouth before I even can think about it.

“Thank you,” she says while running off like her youngest sister.

I’m there holding you, supporting you upright, and then suddenly you lurches forward and begins to puke. I rub your back and try to comfort you but honestly, it’s pretty bad.

“Oh my god. When your sisters get back we’ll get you home.”

You stop puking.

“No.”

“Sorry, what, Rudy?”

“I don’t want to go home.”

“You’ve drunk way too much.”

“Hey,” I whisper to you.

“Hey.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“No.”

“That’s fair. You’re really drunk.”

There’s a pause.

“I’m not going home, if you’re going off with him.”

I’m taken aback, “what did you say?”

“I’m not going home!”

“But I’m not with him! Im standing in this dank alleyway with you! Puking even! What is wrong with you?”

“What is wrong with me?”

“Yes, why are you saying some bullshit like that?” I yell.

“Because I don’t want you to go home with him.”

“That’s so stupid! You told me to sleep with 40 guys and I’ve been trying.”

“That was a mistake!”

“THAT bullshit. You don’t have a right to say this.”

“I can say what I want.”

“No, you can’t. You hurt me. You don’t get a right to anything.”

“Hurt you?”

“You used me. And then you implied I was repulsive. Disgusting. Gross. Then you left me out to dry.”

“I told you, I didn’t want you to feel used.”

“But you knew you did use me. You heard all my vulnerabilities, my boundaries, claimed to accept them and then after you slept with me you said there were too many rules, too much scheduling, it was too weird.”

“It is weird. You’re friends with my sister.”

“I wasn’t then. She reached out to me after you rejected me. And so I thought there was a dilemma till I realised you already made my decision. You already cut me out of your life, I just had to cut you out of mine, and I could be friends with Alicia again.”

“So you blocked me.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s so dumb.”

“It’s not the only reason. I blocked you because I kept checking if you were watching my Instagram stories. Then I realised you were probably just flicking through them to get rid of them and I was getting fixated on it. So I blocked you.”

“Sounds like you were obsessed.”

“More like confused. You reject me, and then you invite me back to your place to hold hands and cuddle and scratch your head - which is so intimate, by the way - and be tickled. Mixed signals.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I wanted you. But I hate that you’re ashamed of me. You’re embarrassed by me.”

“I’m not embarrassed by you.”

“Then why don’t you want people to know?”

“Well, do you want people to know?”

“No, but when you told me, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” after you rejected me, it felt bad. It really hurt. And making fun of me for having a bad reaction to your words. That was mean. I can have any reaction I want. It’s all valid.”

“I just, I wanted to lighten the mood.”

“I feel so pathetic going over this.”

“And I feel really sick.”

“Oh yeah, shit.”

Your sisters rush back. “Sorry guys, the queue was so long.” I don’t dare to make eye contact with you.

We hop into an Uber, Alicia’s sitting shotgun helping navigate, while you’re squashed between me and Alex. You’re leaning on me and then next thing you have your head in my lap, asleep. I look over at Alex, she hasn’t seemed to notice, or doesn’t care.

When we get to your parents’ flat, I help your sisters get you into your room. I stay the night, but rush off early the next day. I can’t bear the thought of seeing you sober.

I’m out in Hyde Park with the squirrels and the swans. I guess they’re now the King’s property - it’s so weird to say that.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“It’s fine.”

“I overstepped.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“Okay.”

“How did you find me?”

“I told Alicia it was an emergency. She checked your Instagram stories.”

“Oh, wild.”

“Can I sit down?”

“Yeah.”

Pause.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel uncomfortable. I just, I had these feelings I didn’t know what to do. I was so distraught with grief about Jackie when I just started dating and send you that text. We had been talking and I saw you around at uni when I asked you to make out. And I was desperately horny when I came over.”

“Those were the feelings you had? Sad, bored and horny?”

“Yes, but I also must have liked you. I must have, how could we have been talking for all these years?”

“So, you liked me?”

“You already know that. I literally told you at your place and you asked when.”

Your face is stoic, “yeah. I just wanted to check.”

“Okay. Well, it was nice to see you aren’t too hungover. I’ve got to go.”

“Wait. I like you. I don’t know why I didn’t want you to kiss me that day. I really wanted you to. I really want you to kiss me all the time. I want to be next to you. I want to hold you. I like you scratching my head. I like you saying that you’re autistic. I’m just confused. I’m confused because I like it when you don’t know something but you’re so smart and you know everything.”

“I like you too. But, you’ve got some things to work through. I can’t help you see me for me now. Instead of seeing me for me at school.”

“And I’ll work through that, just give me a chance.”

“And what about Alicia?”

“I told her I liked you. And she said she’d be okay with it, if you were okay with it.”

“Really?”

“Probably thinks you’re going to reject me though.”

I laugh. “And what do you think? What am I going to do?”

“Well, I know what I want.”

“What’s that?”

“You to accept.”

“Accept what?”

“Oh. Dorothy Wu, will you go on a date with me?”

“Always so non-committal.”

“Okay, will you be my wife?”

“Get OUT.”

We laugh. “Dotti, will you be my girlfriend?”

We kiss.

“Oh, I didn’t sleep with 40 guys.”

“Really?” he says sarcastically.

“Shut up. Not yet! You only gave me four months.”

0 notes

falcqns · 2 years

Note

can u tell u s abkut some if the ither things your siblings have dine bc that post was funny asf lol

of course i can lol

my moms dog bit my brother so my brother bit him back

my younger sister tried to take down my 6'3 boyfriend and almost succeeded

older sister body slammed me through drywall when i was 14

my younger sister put fake spiders in my moms toilet and it scared her so bad she tripped backwards, knocked down the shelving unit beside it and ripped the towel rack out of the wall at 3 am

youngest brother got himself locked in the car, went to honk the horn and the horn got stuck and was in there for 20 minutes while we called the cops to help get him out bc the keys were in there too lol

i mentioned this in the last post but we fully convinced my brother that he was adopted a few summers ago and he started telling us stories of his 'birth family'

we were all in the car and my older sister saw a punch buggy, went to punch me in the arm but i ducked bc i knew she was gonna do it, she missed and clocked my younger sister in the nose so hard she was bleeding

younger sister got a concussion from trying to scare older sister - she was on top of the bunk beds and leaned over, lost her grip and fell head first all the way down

brother tried to name the group chat "Queer Queens" but typed "Queef Queens" and we bullied him so much for it but now we call each other pussy farts

brother scared my mom by hiding in the linen closet and scared her so bad she peed her pants

my youngest brother puts cucumber in his cereal

i accidentally pushed my younger sister off the bed when she was like 2 and she mustered up the strength of the devil and pushed me off the bed causing me to knock my head on the bedside table and need stitches

brother threw a board book at the tv and broke it because Duck Tales was taking too long to load

youngest brother ate more than a few handfuls of straight flour bc mom was making pizza and he was hungry and did it to prove a point

i once smacked my brother in the head with a broom at work (i work in childcare, he was in said childcare)and gave him a goose egg i hit him so hard

sister nose dived off her high chair once and gave herself a goose egg as well when she was a baby

i gave myself a swollen knee while trying to make my mom a mothers day cake. i think i spilled some oil on the ground bc when i turned back from putting something in the sink, i slipped like i was in fuckin looney toones or something and fell flat on my face, bringing the kitchen table down with me 💀

mom made brother pee himself in disney world by telling him there was an alligator behind him

on the topic of urine my sister hit me in the face with a water balloon so hard once my mom peed herself. we were outside. people were driving by and someone def saw my mom pee

our old dog was running once and fell into a fire pit

my mom laughed hysterically on NYE a few years ago bc we were watching Deathy Hallows Part One and when Dobby started unscrewing the chandelier my mom screamed at the top of her lungs 'HE CAME IN LIKE A WRECKING BALL'

i think thats about everything lmao

#ava's anons #sibling things #sibling trauma

0 notes

lady-literature · 3 years

Text

Found Family

holy shit did this one get way out of hand. Don’t expect them all to be this long because hot damn this is a monster compared to literally everything else but it just wouldn’t stop

(should I have expected this? probably. we all know how I am about found family.)

anyway enjoy 4.5k words ig

based on this post | @maribatmarch-2k21 | find more here

***

When Marinette had been chosen to intern with Monsieur Wayne’s PA, she hadn’t been expecting anything special. Sure, the Waynes were an odd breed and generally considered strange, but Marinette hadn’t actually expected to have much contact with them—if any at all.

She was here to earn credit for her business degree.

Instead, she has… well. She thinks she’s been somehow inducted into the Wayne family, mostly on accident and kind of as a joke.

That is, until it very much wasn’t.

***

Her first mistake, she supposes, was being too good at her job.

Marinette is an old hand at keeping track of multiple moving parts and riding herd on stubborn people who’d otherwise be too distracted or goofing off. (She was the Court’s leader for more than just being the latest in a long line of Ladybugs, after all.)

After the first two days shadowing Selina—“please, darling. Ms Kyle is so formal”—and learning the broad strokes of the job, Marinette felt confident enough to dig her nails in and get to work. Selina spent most of her time dedicated to international tasks and arranging Monsieur Waynes’ private affairs—all of which was highly classified and not discussed with Marinette—so she turned her attention to inter-company affairs.

Her first order of business was personally meeting with as many people in managerial positions as she could get. Not a requirement for the job per se, but these were people she’d have to interact with often and Maman had always stressed the importance of building connections in the workplace.

“People,” she would say, “are far more willing to do what you want them to when you’ve endeared yourself to them.”

So Marinette takes that advice and spends her breaks and lunches charming employees and giving baked goods to security guards and learning the names of the cleaning crew. She doesn’t speak to the department heads, because Selina handles their correspondences, but everyone else is free game as far as she’s concerned.

She becomes a well-recognized face astoundingly quickly.

***

Marinette probably should’ve seen the rumors coming.

It’s common practice in not only the Wayne family, but in most business conglomerates, for the children to quickly rise through the ranks of their company—if not just handed a high position right off the bat.

It took barely a month before the eldest was all but running Human Resources, and the second was placed as Head of Security practically out of nowhere. Monsieur Drake is the youngest (and most terrifyingly calculated) CEO to ever hold Wayne Enterprises, even if he does share the title with his father.

The other three are still too young or have yet to express an interest in the company, but people say it’s only a matter of time.

The track record speaks for itself, even if Marinette wishes it didn’t.

As a girl who’d come mostly out of nowhere and found herself with far more divisive sway in the company than she had any right to, it’s no wonder everyone thinks she’s some sort of secret Wayne finally coming out of hiding.

Marinette had nearly choked on her coffee when Selina dropped the bomb of that particular tidbit of company gossip.

“Most think you’ve been unofficially adopted,” Selina tells her, looking far too amused for Marinette’s liking. “Seeing as you’re too old for official avenues now.”

Marinette looks up warily from the schedule she’s rearranging. Selina had all but shoved the thing at her a month ago when she started suggesting more efficient ways of managing the CEOs’ valuable time.

“Only most? Does that mean the rest have common sense?”

Selina’s grin widens even further, if that’s possible, and Marinette regrets her question even before the older woman starts speaking.

“Oh, of course not!” she laughs delightedly. “The rest are hoping to hear news of wedding bells. It’s high time someone swept a Wayne off the market, don’t you think?”

***

“So you’re the new little sister I keep hearing about.”

Marinette stares up through narrowed eyes at the brightly smiling Dick Grayson. In her stomach, there are already the beginnings of resignation starting to form.

“It’s nice to finally meet you!”

This man is going to bring her nothing but trouble. She can tell.

***

Dick takes a liking to her. And she, against her better judgment, finds herself doing the same to him.

It’s a little hard not to, if she’s being honest. He’s bright and bubbly and brings her bagels during his morning break without her ever having asked.

It takes practically no time at all before Marinette considers him a friend, relaxing when he’s near and laughing openly at his ridiculous jokes. Despite being the head of HR, he’s not great at the whole ‘professional’ thing and often employees will walk by to find him draped across a chair or balancing precariously on the edge of her desk while she tries and fails to get some work done while he’s around.

It really doesn't help all of the ‘Marinette is a Wayne’ rumors running around. Especially when Dick starts pointedly calling her every variation of ‘little sister’ that he can think of just to annoy her (and, she knows, because he thinks the entire situation hilarious).

***

Three weeks after befriending Dick, Selina all but shoves her into Monsieur Drake’s office and, in no uncertain words, says, “He’s your problem now.”

Marinette blinks at what she can describe as nothing other than a disaster area and just… sighs.

Tim blinks back at her.

The motion is somehow both completely blank and filled with an uncomfortable amount of knowing at the same time. There is also, she notices, a frankly ludicrous amount of concealer caked beneath his eyes and more coffee cups scattered on every flat surface than Marinette has ever seen in her life.

She knows his schedule like the back of her hand seeing as she spends hours of her day pouring over it to make sure everything runs smoothly. He has no prior engagements for the next three hours.

“You’re not going to take a nap just because I ask, are you?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

She nods, having expected the answer; her phone was already at her ear before he even finished speaking. “Hey, Dick!” she greets, sounding brighter than she feels at the moment, and watches as Tim stiffens in front of her. “Yeah, no. I was just wondering if you’re busy right now.” She pauses. “Oh, good! Can you come up to Tim’s office for me? Yeah, I need you to knock him out so I can fix his dumpster fire of an office.”

Tim has since started waving his hands frantically at her, panic setting in behind his eyes.

Marinette stares at him, unmoved. “Thanks, Dick! You’re the best!”

The silence after she hangs up is deafening.

“I don’t know if I should be impressed by the ease you’re manipulating me or pissed off that you’re doing it in the first place.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Does your decision have any bearing on my future employment?”

His eyes squint. “…No.”

Marinette shrugs, mind already whirling with what she’ll need to get done first and calculating how long she’ll likely have to get it done. “Then I think you should skip right over both of those and land on resignation as quickly as possible, Monsieur, because you’re going to have to get used to it regardless.”

It’s silent for a long moment, and she worries for just a second that she’s severely crossed some sort of line. Then Tim bursts out laughing instead of, you know, firing her like he probably should have.

“Oh, yeah. You’re going to fit right in here.”

Marinette doesn’t ask where the ‘here’ is. She’s pretty sure she already knows.

***

It takes ten days for Marinette to wrangle Tim’s life into something resembling order. His office is clean and organized to his liking. She’s developed a system of filing so that all paperwork goes through her and is quickly sorted into ‘can be handled by Marinette’, ‘forge his signature and tell him about it later’, and ‘actually important enough to have Tim read through’.

His schedule is the most efficient it’s ever been and Marinette is quickly honing the skill of getting him properly dressed and out of his office in under thirty minutes. (Dick is, thankfully, a great teacher and has little to no qualms about giving her the key to all his little brother’s weaknesses.)

Selina stares at her when Marinette all but drags Tim from his office, a folder tucked neatly under his arm and the sugary monstrosity of a caffeinated beverage she’s bribed him with in her own, with a whole ten minutes to spare before his meeting with the Board.

“My dear,” she says solemnly, “you are positively magic.”

She doesn’t even look up from where she’s simultaneously wrangling Tim’s hair into submission and laying his tie down flat. “You have no idea.”

***

She knows Tim is capable of professionality. She’s seen the cool facade he pulls up in front of the Board members and the kind but impersonal smile he uses on the employees of Wayne Enterprises. (He is not the Ice Prince of the Wayne family, but Marinette believes he should have some equally ruthless sounding title.) He is aloof and sharp and every inch the businessman people praise him to be.

She’s seen it. And yet…

“Monsieur. Why are all the Lexcorp contracts I gave you done in crayon?”

Tim doesn’t stop messing with his Rubix cube or even look up at her when he says, “Cause deadbeat fathers don’t deserve the respect of a pen.”

Marinette is very tired. She does not have time for this. “What are you talking about?”

“Lex is a bitchass absentee dad and I live to inconvenience him.”

“What about inconveniencing me?” she all but whines. “I can’t hand him these!”

That does make Tim look up at her, eyes wide with false innocence and mouth pouting up at her. “But sister dearest, I’m your little brother. It’s my job to inconvenience you.”

Growling in frustration is probably an inappropriate reaction to the situation.

But, Marinette thinks, so is the fact that both of the Waynes she associates with regularly seem hellbent on convincing the world that she too, is a Wayne, so.

(Is this how Alya felt dealing with the twins? Cause if so, Marinette takes back every joke she ever made—little siblings are a bitch.)

***

She meets Damian without warning.

Honestly, she never really expected to meet him at all but, well.

She finds him in Monsieur Wayne’s office, sitting at his father’s desk and doing something that she thinks is vaguely illegal, but she’s not about to tell her Boss a dozen times over how to parent his children.

Damian is a near-perfect copy of his father with darker skin and calculating green eyes. There’s also a more potent aura of danger around the child than there is around his father, like Damian hasn’t yet learned how to hide behind his public persona as his father had.

Or, Marinette looks at the teen thoughtfully, perhaps he just chooses not to.

“Monsieur Wayne,” she greets. Children like to be treated like adults, she knows, and Marinette doesn’t think this one is any different. “Selina hadn’t told me you’d be in the office today.”

“I don’t run my schedule by her,” he says flatly. A response she expected considering Dick’s stories.

“Of course not,” she agrees.

He finally deigns to look up at her and something flits across his expression, too fast for her to pick up on it. “Are those for Father? Bring them here, I’ll deal with them in his absence.”

Marinette raises her eyebrow. “I’m not sure that’s wise Monsieur.”

Damian scowls and sticks his hand out. “I’m perfectly capable of forging Father’s signature. Give them here.”

She does not move and, instead, lets her lips quirk up into the smile she’s been fighting since she stepped in here.

“I don’t doubt it,” she tells him, and she doesn't. Forgery seems exactly like the kind of skill a child who broke into the CEO’s office of a multi-billion dollar company would have. “But you’ll find that all forging of signatures has been finished for the day and that these,” she shakes the sheaf of papers lightly, “actually require your father’s attention.”

He snorts disbelievingly and it says a lot about Marinette’s life up until now that the blatant display of disrespect doesn’t piss her off but instead reminds her of Chloé and of the fact that she still needs to reschedule their spa day. It's been too long since they spent time together in person.

“Well,” she pauses and eyes the papers thoughtfully. “‘Requires’ in the sense that its information needed to trounce the Board when they start spouting off greedy bullshit about cutting corners on our humanitarian efforts. I’m not sure how much of it is actually useful for anything besides that.” She shrugs. “But homework is homework, yes?”

That gets her a thoughtful once-over. His hand lowers and he then turns back to whatever he’s messing with on his father’s computers.

“Very well,” he concedes. “Father will be back in approximately thirteen minutes. You can leave the papers and I’ll inform him of their… importance.” He smirks, but it’s more like he’s letting her in on a joke than anything else.

Marinette smiles back as she sets the folder on the desk, feeling, oddly, like she’s passed some sort of test.

***

The day after, both Dick and Tim are waiting for her with what looks like an entire bakery laid out in her workspace.

“Uh,” she says eloquently, setting her purse down on her chair because there’s not a single open space on her desk not filled with some kind of pastry. “What’s all this?”

She looks up to find neither Dick nor Tim has stopped staring at her since she walked in. “We heard you met Damian yesterday,” Dick starts warily, like he’s scared of her reaction.

The response does not abate her confusion.

“Yes, I did,” she says slowly. “That does not explain all… this.” She waves a hand, trying to encompass them as well as the state her desk is in.

The two brothers share a look.

“It’s a bribe,” Tim tells her simply and Marinette is taken aback for all of a second before her eyes suddenly narrow.

Dick cuts in hastily before she can say anything. “It’s more of an apology, really. For Damian’s behavior.”

But Marinette is confused and frustrated and just a bit offended by the apparent not-bribe at this point. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, but it only does so much.

“Damain’s behavior was fine,” she tells them with measured neutrality. “You two, on the other hand, are being weird and it’s freaking me out.” She crosses her arms expectantly. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

Appearing from out of nowhere, Selina drapes herself along Marinette’s shoulders and snags a raspberry scone. “I do believe,” she says as if sharing a secret, “That they are trying to keep you from quitting, kitten.”

Marinette wrinkles her nose. “Why would I quit? I like this job.”

She also likes the Waynes (in general, if not right then) and she likes Selina. The woman was a good mentor who didn’t shy away from the dirtier parts of the job and taught Marinette all she knew. (Even the bits, she noticed, that had little to nothing to do with being a personal assistant and were more likely to be found in the repertoire of a thief.

But, Marinette is in possession of her own sticky fingers and knows how to not ask questions, so. You know—curiosity killed the cat and all.)

She doesn’t voice any of that, but Selina, at least, knows it anyway. Marinette isn’t quiet about her gratitude after all.

“First meetings with the youngest Wayne don’t often go well,” Selina tells her. “In fact, I think he has a habit of making the interns cry.”

Dick makes some kind of offended noise. “Hey! He hasn’t done that since he was twelve!”

Tim elbows him in the ribs and Marinette makes a vaguely skeptical face at all three of them before deciding it wasn’t worth it. She has actual work to get done today and pastries to get rid of before she can even start.

She pats affectionately at Selina’s hand before grabbing as many boxes as she can hold. “Come on you two,” she says to the brothers. “You’re going to help me hand these out to the rest of the company.”

Dick immediately starts doing as told but Tim hesitates, humming thoughtfully. “You know that’s not going to help your whole ‘I’m not actually a Wayne’ thing, right?”

She glares at him. It doesn’t stop Tim from grinning like the utterly unrepentant little shit he is.

***

Things are quiet after the Damian Incident for a whole two weeks. It’s the longest lull Marinette has had since she first started and became somehow involved with the Waynes.

It ends because Dick finds out about the crush Marinette has been nursing on the Head of Security for three months now.

The Head of Security who is Jason Todd: second eldest Wayne sibling and Dick’s brother.

He takes it better than expected.

(Almost, she thinks later, a little too well.)

***

Despite her friendship with Dick and Tim—or perhaps because of it?—Jason had never seemed very interested in her. At first, Marinette had shrugged and counted it as a win; there was one Wayne, at least, who neither found her situation funny nor used it to poke fun at her.

They were on friendly terms, she supposed. Security has always been one of her more regular stops in the building, so she’d spoken to him often enough. He liked complaining that she spoiled his team rotten with all her treats.

But she also noticed that he likes her cherry danishes, so.

And then she noticed how crooked his grin was when he smiled. And how he seemed to have an arsenal of nicknames for everyone he knew. And the small collection of classic romance novels filled with sticky notes he tries and fails to hide in his desk. And, and, and.

It was around the time she began unconsciously memorizing his schedule based on when he was and was not there for her pastry deliveries, that she realized she may have made a misstep somewhere.

Jason was stubborn and passionate and flipped between overly proper and crass light a damn light switch. He was also, as stated, very much not interested in her.

Not that she would’ve pursued him anyway. He was a coworker as well as her friends’ brother.

Now if only one of said brothers could understand that.

“You should ask him out,” Dick suggests not for the first time and Marinette sighs, also not for the first time.

She loves Dick—she truly does—but he has been an aggravating level of unhelpful since he found out about Marinette’s latest romantic disaster.

“I’m definitely not doing that.”

Dick groans, like she’s being the unreasonable one. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“Because I don’t like embarrassing myself?” she asks rhetorically. “Not everyone can have a fairy tale romance like you and Wally.”

He throws his coffee stirrer at her. “We are not a fairy tale.”

She shoots him a flat look. She’s heard Dick talk about Wally and Tim’s told her all the stories and she was there when he and Wally finally got their shit together. Dick was unbearable for an entire week with his gooey, lovestruck new lease on life.

“You two are the definition of fairy tale. You two make fairy tales look like trashy romance novels.”

He opens his mouth to argue the point before forcibly cutting himself off. “No. Stop distracting me. We’re not talking about that; we’re talking about you and Jason.”

“There is no ‘me and Jason’,” she reminds him through her clenched teeth.

“Not yet,” he says optimistically. Like it’s a fact, like he knows something she doesn’t.

He makes her want to slam her face into a wall. Truly, he does.

***

Dick stops running his HR papers up to her office. Instead, he’s somehow convinced Jason to play errand boy for him even though he literally never looks happy about it. What used to be a flimsy excuse for Dick to slack off for a few minutes and gossip with her has now turned into awkward silence as Jason drops off the papers and leaves without even a ‘hello’.

During their shared breaks, Dick takes to orchestrating ‘chance encounters’ between her and Jason, all but shoving them into each other (and even actually shoving that one time). She catches Jason shooting dark looks at Dick every time he does it, and if she’d been holding any iota of hope at this point, it’s been smashed to dust. Jason obviously knows of his brother’s meddling and isn’t happy about it.

But Dick just can’t take the hint.

Every failed plan of his makes him steadily worse about it all—more frantic and frustrated and like he wants to strangle her for her stubbornness. (The last feeling being more than mutual.)

Dick’s meddling starts to make her and Jason’s previously friendly, if distant, relationship awkward and embarrassing. With every pointed comment, she gets closer to just punching Dick in the face. Or, maybe, she’ll just tell Wally who really ate all the chocolate strawberry macaroons she made; it’d certainly be more devastating.

***

It all comes to head on a Thursday, after most employees have left for the day.

They run into each other in a breakroom, and she watches as Jason suddenly goes stiff, eyes flicking over her shoulder to no doubt scan for Dick. That single action makes her expression sour and she slams her empty mug down with more force than was necessary.

For Kwamis sake, he looks like a cornered animal. An image not helped by the way he jumps a foot in the air and stares at her like he’s worried she’ll suddenly lunge at him.

“Can we agree this is ridiculous?” she says abruptly. “I don’t know what Dick is trying to accomplish with his wingman schtick, but we both know it’s not going to work. Can we just… agree that he’s an idiot?”

A complicated look crosses Jason’s face before he snorts wryly. “Yeah, we can agree on that. Dickie-boy has always been a few sandwiches short a picnic.”

“I know things have been awkward between us lately, and I’m sorry about that, but I hope we can keep being friends?” she says hopefully.

“What in the world do you have to be sorry about?” he asks before she can start catastrophizing about the bewildered expression he makes at her words. “It’s not your fault.”

The smile she shoots him is rueful and she shakes her hand in an ‘ehh’ type gesture. “Kinda is. And I understand if the-” she makes a vague gesture between them that she hopes properly conveys ‘my giant, stupid crush on you’, “you know, is too much for you. Just say the word I’ll try and keep out of your way.”

She’s trying to be comforting or understanding or something like that, but all her words seem to do is make him upset. “Absolutely not,” he insists. “Sunshine, you are not going to change your routine just to make me feel better.”

Marinette crosses her arms, frowning up at him. “Why shouldn’t I? If I’m making you uncomfortable-”

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Uncomfort- Marinette. ” She jolts a bit at the use of her name. She doesn’t think he’s used it since her second week at W.E. “I’m not sure who made you think otherwise—and if it was Dick just tell me cause I’ll kick his ass —but barring the fact that I still enjoy your friendship regardless of any… feelings-” Marinette concentrates very hard on not showing emotion when he says that, “-it’s not your responsibility to deal with it.”

Okay, but… that makes no sense. Of course her feelings were her responsibility, that’s the whole point of them being hers.

“If it’s not mine, then whose responsibility is it then?” she asks, wondering where the hell his train of thought is running.

“Mine, obviously.”

She gives him a look, complete with narrowed eyes and thinly veiled judgment. “What? Is this some kind of gentleman’s martyr complex? Is that what’s happening right now?”

Jason huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “If me taking responsibility for my own damn feelings is a martyr complex then sure,” he snarks, not unkindly. More like he’s trying to protect himself by retreating behind a sour attitude.

Her mouth is halfway around a retort when his words catch up to her brain and she freezes.

“Your feelings?” she repeats. “Your feelings for… me?”

His voice is carefully neutral when he says, “Those would be the ones.”

Her mouth opens and closes and opens again. “You like me? Seriously?”

His face spasms at the question, starting at anger before he properly looks at her and the surprised expression on her face. He pales.

“You didn’t know?”

“No!” she squeaks, something she hasn’t done since she was fifteen. “Well Dick said but I didn’t believe him!”

And fuck, she thinks. This means Dick knew the whole damn time, didn’t he? Oh, she is so going to kill him the second she gets the chance.

Jason runs a hand down his face, covering his mouth as he gathers his bearings. Suddenly, his eyes shoot back open and land on her. “Wait. If you didn't know, then what the hell were you talking about just now?”

She blushes to the tips of her ears and buries her face in her hands so she doesn’t have to look at him. It was easy when she thought he’d figured it out himself. It’s harder now that she has to tell him. “I- I was talking about my crush on you.”

He’s quiet for so long that she gets antsy and peeks out from behind her fingers to see his expression. He’s still looking at her, but now there’s a wide, crooked smile on his face. The expression softens something in her chest and she lowers her hands.

“Really?” he asks, leaning closer.

Marinette nods, feeling a small smile spread across her lips.

He jolts forward, hands reaching for her before suddenly stopping just shy of touching. She startles a bit at the motion but doesn’t move away.

Jason licks his lips, smile smaller but no less bright. “I- can I?”

She blinks. “Can you what?”

“Kiss you.”

The blush returns full force, but with it also comes a smile, giddy and bright. She nods and no sooner than she does, is he swooping down to pull her into a toe-curling kiss. His hands cup her face with a tenderness that makes her smile, makes her giddy, and it’s not long before they’re both smiling too wide to actually kiss and are forced to break apart.

His hands fall to her back, practically engulfing her, and his chin drops onto her head. It’s warm and cozy and she thinks she could so very easily get used to this.

Later, they’re going to have to deal with Dick and Tim and Selina and the teasing they’ll no doubt have to endure—not to mention how much worse the rumors are going to get—but right now? Right now Marinette pulls Jason back down for another kiss and very pointedly doesn’t think about it.

#maribatmarch2021 #maribat #mlb x dc #jasonette #my typewriter #platonic dickinette #platonic timari

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

A-Yuan wasn’t the only child among the Wen Remnants, just the youngest.

Children's Day - ao3

Lan Wangji carefully scooped up the boy out of his hiding place, tucked beneath a pile of stones, sick with fever and fast asleep.

It was a good hiding place. If Lan Wangji hadn’t played Inquiry and demanded to know if there were any living beings around in this cursed place of death, he would never have found the small child.

He remembered him – this was little A-Yuan, who Wei Wuxian had taken down into town to play, the one Lan Wangji had bought all those toys for in his confusion, the one who called him rich-gege. Barely more than two years old, having never known anything but war.

He was all that was left, now. There was nothing else left in the battlefield.

No one else left.

Lan Wangji closed his eyes in pain.

I’ll care for him for you, he promised Wei Wuxian’s ghost, wherever it might be now. Now that you cannot.

I’ll take him back to Gusu to raise as my own – wishing you were by my side.

-Earlier-

“Sect Leader!” one of his aides cried out when he staggered back into camp. “What – who’s that?”

Jiang Cheng looked down at the girl in his arms. She was – four, maybe? Five? He had no idea.

She looked a bit like Wen Qing.

“I found her hiding in the corner of the battlefield when she made a noise,” he said hoarsely. “The Wen sect remnants…by the time I got there, they were almost all dead already, all her family. She’s – she’s young. It didn’t seem right.”

Wei Wuxian always liked children, he thought vaguely to himself as he looked down at her. It wasn’t so much of a surprise that he would keep one there…in fact, if he thought back to that horrible meeting they’d had that one time he’d come to the Burial Mounds to try to talk to Wei Wuxian, he thought he remembered there being a small child there. This must be her.

She was bigger than he remembered, but that was what happened with small children, wasn’t it?

“Her surname is Wen?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng snapped automatically, and his aide took a step back from his vehemence. “The Wen sect is dead, you understand? All of them. The cultivation world refused to allow them to live, that much is obvious enough. Her surname…”

He looked down at her.

I failed Wei Wuxian, he thought grimly. I won’t fail his legacy.

“Her surname will be Jiang.”

-Earlier-

“We found this child hiding in the Demon Subduing Cave,” one of the guards reported, looking nervous. “Lianfeng-zun – what do we do with them?”

Jin Guangyao frowned down at the child, judging the child’s age to be about five or six – maybe seven, considering the likelihood of malnutrition at the Burial Mounds. If they were any younger, he would’ve said that the child ought to just execute them as useless; any older, and he would’ve had no choice but to declare them an enemy combatant, and thereby order them executed.

At this age, though…they were still young enough to be taught to forget their current surname, and to learn new loyalties, and yet old enough to perhaps remember a little of what they had learned, living as they had for a few years with the inventor of demonic cultivation.

Jin Guangyao glanced at the papers in his hands, full of barely legible scribbles, laying out powerful new spells and interesting ideas. They would help Xue Yang with his work – but not as much as a helper would, and naturally they’d just brutally executed all the other ‘helpers’ that might have been available.

Not exactly Jin Guangyao’s personal preference, but he wasn’t the one leading the Jin sect army.

Still, his father, who had been the one leading, had retired to his tent, and now Jin Guangyao was the one with the power, left to be in charge of mopping up. That, in turn, gave him a little more leeway, which meant he could implement his own thoughts, rather than badly thought out instructions.

“Put the child in my tent,” he said, and smiled. “The poor thing must have gotten lost and entered the battlefield – after we arrived. You understand?”

The guard saluted deeply. “Lianfeng-zun is kind and beneficent,” he said, and his expression was worshipful. “I will tell the others that the child is from some distant Jin branch.”

Jin Guangyao hadn’t intended for him to do that, but – well, he couldn’t exactly refute it now, could he, and anyway there were worse things to happen. Everyone would know that he had kindly taken in some orphaned child of war, which would be good for his reputation.

He smiled and nodded, and thought of the future.

-Earlier-

“Well, shit,” Nie Mingjue said, staring at the trio of children: nine or ten years old, he thought, maybe a little older, two girls and a boy. They stared back at him, wide-eyed and terrified – they were very clearly trying to sneak off the Burial Mounds down the back way.

Nie Mingjue rubbed his face, glad that he’d insisted on doing the forward scout work before the attack tomorrow morning himself rather than let it go to someone else. He hadn’t wanted to come to this blasted place in the first place, being that he still wasn’t sure exactly what had gone down with Wei Wuxian, who’d been a good man once. But good Nie cultivators had died at Lanling City at Wen Ning’s hands, the Jin sect claiming that that brutal attack was at Wei Wuxian’s instigation, and at the Nightless City at Wei Wuxian’s hands directly, and he didn’t have any evidence to exculpate the man, either; he had no grounds to look the families of those Nie cultivators in the eye and tell them not to pursue vengeance against the man who had slaughtered their brothers and fathers and sons, sisters and mothers and daughters, like they meant nothing.

They deserved vengeance.

Just as he had, for his father.

But at the same time…

“You’re all surnamed Wen, I take it?” he asked, and they slowly nodded. “Dafan Wen?”

Another nod.

“Wrong answer,” he said, making a snap decision. This wasn’t like his father at all, not really; he had wanted to kill Wen Ruohan, who had done the deed himself, while these children clearly hadn’t done anything. “Swear to me here and now that you won’t seek revenge for your sect or family, and you can be surnamed Nie instead.”

They looked at each other.

“Your family didn’t send you to run away because they wanted you to take revenge,” he said. It was a guess, but he could tell from the way their shoulders sagged that he was right. “They wanted you to live. Well?”

They swore.

He took them home.

-Earlier-

She tripped and fell flat on her face.

“Hey, girl!”

She looked up, eyes wide with terror – she hadn’t expected to be caught so soon – but the cultivator in front of her didn’t strike her down. He was a young man, just a few years older than her, and he looked nice, kneeling to help her up.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “Did you get lost?”

Lost? From where would she get lost, exactly?

Despite that, she nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Here isn’t a good place, though – we’re going to have a battle tomorrow…can you tell me where you’re from?” He frowned. “Or – can’t you speak?”

An idea suddenly came to mind, and she shook her head, lifting up her hands to mime signs like the ones she’d seen Lady Wen and her brother use sometimes when they needed to talk without disturbing others.

“Doesn’t talk,” he murmured to himself. “Clothing of white, ripped all to ribbons –”

She’d torn out any trace of the red sun. White was a common color, but she was old enough to know that she couldn’t let anyone know she was surnamed Wen.

“Oh, I’ve read about this before! Are you a bird yao that’s cultivated to humanity?”

What?

She’d been thinking of trying to pass as a traumatized war veteran, but she was only fourteen, after all; it wasn’t very believable. Of course, it was a lot more believable that bird yao – who would leap to that conclusion?

“My surname is Ouyang,” the man said, smiling brightly at her. “You should come back with me – I can teach you to speak, and we can give you a name…how about ‘Luo’ as a surname? That has to do with birds. Or we could surname you Bai, instead, since your clothing is white! Or maybe -”

She smiled helplessly at his nonsense. What a silly, cheerful man! Maybe she’d overestimated his age, he couldn’t be more than two or three years older, at most, and his brain was clearly not in the right place, filled up to the brim with romantic stories and adventure tales instead of facts.

It was a nice change, actually.

She accepted his hand as she stood.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

-Earlier-

Lan Wangji had returned home and submitted to a dreadful punishment. The elders he had injured on Wei Wuxian’s behalf were either in treatment or recovering.

As for the rest that had been at the Nightless City…

Many were dead.

Lan Qiren landed in the Burial Mounds, lips pressed tightly together.

He knew he was taking a risk in coming here to Wei Wuxian’s lair – no matter what Lan Wangji thought, whatever good points he’d had in the past, the man was now little better than a mad dog. He’d caused the death of three thousand people just the day before, three thousand innocents that hadn’t had anything to do with anything; why would he hesitate to attack his old teacher?

There was already talk of a siege – Jiang Cheng himself had promised to lead it, to wipe off the stain on the Jiang sect’s record, and the Jin sect had been right behind him. Even Nie Mingjue had been dragged in against his will, suborned by his sect members’ need for vengeance. As for the Lan Sect…Lan Xichen had looked so stricken by the thought that Lan Qiren had volunteered for the grim duty, despite Lan Qiren having never been much of a fighter and even less of a general. He intended to take only the smallest possible contingent, and to limit their work as much as possible to cleansing the dead rather than killing those who remained there – that much, at least, he could do for his nephew.

Either way, though, no matter his powers, Wei Wuxian would not live out the week.

If Lan Qiren desired vengeance, he need only wait.

And yet, here he was.

Alone, practically unarmed – and here nonetheless.

An old woman came out from the cave and squinted at him.

“It’s over,” she said sadly. “Isn’t it?”

Lan Qiren looked at her. One of the Wen remnants that Wei Wuxian had surrounded himself with, he assumed; the ones he’d given up his comfortable life for, claiming he was only acting as a righteous man ought. Perhaps he even had thought he was, back then.

Perhaps he really had been, back then.

“Yes,” Lan Qiren said, and cleared his throat. “After what he did at the Nightless City – the verdict is unquestionably death. But the rest of you…there are armies coming, and armies are not known for their leniency, especially not on passerby with the wrong surname. But they’re not here yet. There’s still time to flee – if you go now, you could take on a new surname and find some quiet place to live on.”

Lan Wangji had said they were civilians. Civilian life was to be prioritized above all else.

Lan Qiren was only doing what he must.

Despite his well-meant warnings, however, the old lady shook her head.

“There’s nowhere to go, and we won’t give up our surname,” she said, polite but stubborn to the last. “But thank you for taking the time to come here to tell us.”

“Wangji said that there were children here,” Lan Qiren insisted, ignoring her refusal. “If you won’t flee with them, at least send those that are old enough out on their own, and hide the younger ones. Tell them to forget their surnames – most people won’t rampantly murder children, so there’s a chance they’ll make it through, and live. Can you deny them that, just for pride?”

That gave the old woman pause.

“We’ll do what we can,” she said, and then eyed him. “How good are you at medicine?”

Lan Qiren frowned. “I can’t provide care –”

“She’s already dead. Come help anyway.”

The woman in question was not already dead, but dying – she was in her late teens, seventeen or eighteen at most, and she was in labor. From the glassiness of her eyes, the redness of her cheeks, and the threadiness of her pulse, it was clear that infection had long ago set in. It was not an exaggeration to say she was dead, little better than a corpse.

She was little more than a child.

“I don’t want her to die alone,” the old woman said. “But if you stay with her, I can use the time to try to take care of the rest. You’re not wrong, I suppose – the children, at least, deserve a chance to live on, even if it means leaving our surname behind.”

Lan Qiren looked down at the woman, unconscious already and unlikely to ever wake, and yet still whimpering. “And her child?”

The old woman looked surprised. “Can a child born like this still live?”

Lan Qiren had almost no medical training beyond the most superficial basics that were the necessity for any battlefield or night-hunt, with one sole exception: he had supervised the births of both his nephews by himself with little aid – his brother’s wife hadn’t wanted anyone else to be present, possibly in an attempt to prematurely enter her grave, possibly just out of spite. He had studied very hard in the days leading up to those births, and knew far more on the subject than most men did.

“It’s possible,” he said. “Unlikely, but – possible.”

He hesitated for a long moment.

“I can take the baby,” he finally said. “Pass him off as some war-orphan child of distant Lan cousins, sent to me on account of their deaths. I could raise him, or else give him to my cousin to raise; he’s got a large enough family that no one would question it.”

“Why would you do that?”

Lan Qiren looked at the woman who was dying, little more than a child herself. “Because of the children I can’t help.”

The old woman was quiet for a little while.

“Very well,” she said, and leaned forward to whisper the name the young woman had thought about for her child into his ear. “That works with Lan as a surname, wouldn’t it? That’s not bad.”

“Not bad at all,” Lan Qiren agreed, and rolled up his sleeves, settling down beside the girl. “Not bad at all.”

#mdzs #lan wangji #jiang cheng #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #lan qiren #original characters #my fic #my fics #children's day #some untamed elements

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