#look I am very much implying that Simon is going to get in on this action

[auspicioustidings]

Bannockburn

Summary: Your boyfriend Johnny has come home in a strange mood, and you are about to get your shit rocked at Bannockburn.

Technically, if you squint, a sequel to Savage set just over 700 years later. Like I will perhaps write a proper sequel at some point, but you can blame Bunny for this one.

Words: 3.6k

CW: CNC, smut, implied character death

You were getting nervous. You were getting really nervous. There were two Johnny’s and you never knew what one you were getting when he came home from a mission. Most of the time you got your Johnny, sweet and loving and tackling you to the bed with a laugh while he showed you how much he missed you. But sometimes whatever happened out on mission got his blood up. Whatever he usually did to get himself settled and out of war mode didn’t take. Sometimes you got the Savage Johnny, the one who heard your English accent and became more animal than man. The one who went into such thick Scots that you hardly understood what he was growling into your ear as he took you. 

Usually you knew what Johnny you had the moment he walked through the door. Not this time. This time he seemed like he was boiling with energy under the surface, but he kissed you nonetheless and ate dinner with you and held you as you slept. When he got you both up and packed into the car the next morning for a trip you had the sense to at least be a little worried. Now, hand held in his as you listened to the guide, you had some inkling that you might be in for it. 

“Now King Edward the second invaded as a result of Bruce’s demand to his people to recognise him as their King. He summoned 25,000 infantry and 2000 horses, the largest ever army to invade Scotland. Bruce only had command of 6000 men.”

You could feel the blood draining from your face as the guide went further into the background of the battle. Around about the time she briefly mentioned how Wallace had been hanged, drawn and quartered, limbs displayed in different cities, just shy of ten years before the Battle of Bannockburn, you absolutely knew what Johnny you had on your hands. And this Johnny? There was nothing you could do to save yourself from this Johnny. This Johnny was taking in every word, ready to punish you for your ancestors' transgressions against his. 

You were trying to pay attention, but your eyes were darting around trying to pinpoint any little nooks that might spell danger if he got you in them. Only that was dangerous in itself, because the first time you felt your attention drift from what was being said Johnny had let go of your hand and moved to instead hold you firm by the back of the neck, fingers massaging a little too hard in warning. That got you to pay rapt attention to all of it, to the whole history of the Scottish wars of Independence as it related to Bannockburn. 

It was strange sometimes, you and Johnny. There were times like now when you would be learning about the history of your countries and it felt like some long forgotten memory. There were times when you met his Lieutenant and swore you knew him from somewhere. Like there was some ancient part of you that trusted them when they fought together to watch each other's backs. No matter what Johnny you got, you held such a deep love for him that it scared you sometimes. Your heart twisted as they described what the battle would have been like for the soldiers, the sights and sounds and weapons. It must have been awful. 

You were stuck on it. Stuck on the image of a Johnny with a sword on the battlefield. That was your mistake, zoning out and just following along when he led you out to the grounds. Only when you had been walking for a while did you realise how far you were getting from the safety of a building full of people.

“Where are we going?”

“Dinae pay any attention at all did ye? Must naw have been interesting tae ye learning about how my people battered yours when they tried tae grind us intae nothing.”

“No, I was paying attention. Of course I was” you said, trying to be meek and quell some of his building fury. 

“Couldnae even hunt a bunny without some English noble claiming it wisnae our right. Punishing us” he ranted before turning to you with a feral look in his eye. “Cannae stop me from hunting one right now though can they? Ye going tae run for me wee bunny?”

Fuck. He looked ready to tear into your throat with his teeth. You felt every bit a prey animal, eyes darting around to find a way out of this. The woods. There were woods here. That was where he had been leading you while you had been busy getting stuck on the idea of him as some ancient warrior fighting to the death. Gillies Hill. The guide had told you about it, how the Scottish had made their camp here. It was where they had attacked from.

And it was where you found yourself sprinting through, heart pounding. Your logical mind knew it was a mistake, you running only meant he could chase. You should have just stayed where you were, tried to talk him down. You were stumbling and tripping, trying to get your bearings as the woods became dense around you. Every snap of a twig or sway of a branch sent you darting away in the other direction until you were shaking from exhaustion and no small amount of mounting terror.

You had never been hunted like this. Johnny had been rough with you before in the warmth of your own home, had fucked you into the bed like he was trying to mould you permanently to him. But this was a different creature entirely. This was the monster under the surface that you only caught glimpses of, that you never thought you would meet face to face. The woods were silent of another human, had you managed to escape him?

“Yer naw even trying little bunny, ye want me tae catch ye is that it? Slut.”

His breath was hot on your ear and you choked on any response you had tried to come up with. How had he gotten right behind you without a sound? You were running again, tripping and scraping your knees but clawing your way back to your feet to keep going. The little summer dress was not suited for this, but at least you were wearing boots. At least Johnny had told you to wear boots this morning. 

It was with a sickening dread that you realised he had planned this. He knew you would be running from him, knew he wanted you in a dress for easy access but boots for fleeing into the woods. At least you knew that your Johnny was still in there somewhere, enough to care about you not breaking an ankle. Not enough to care about breaking you in other ways. 

“Aww wee English princess got her knees all scraped up? All yer kinfolk are going tae ken how ye love getting on them for good Scottish cock when they see the marks. Wee whore down in the dirt fucking gagging on it, crying over how much ye love it.”

You couldn’t properly tell what direction his voice was even coming from. The shame of his words was flooding you with a sickly humiliation that only increased when your body reacted differently to how it should have. When you throbbed with need for him. 

“I’m not! That isn’t what’s happening!”

You were flustered and scared and needy and felt like you were yelling at nothing as you kept catching sight of him on your periphery only to turn and find nobody there. 

“Naw? Slick is practically running down yer plush fucking thighs princess, bet yer clenching down on nothin’. Dinnae even have tae catch ye dae I? Could just wait until ye come crawling tae me, begging me tae claim ye. Fucking pleading for it right here, right where my army celebrated before decimating yours.”

His words sent a shiver up your spine. Out here felt removed from time, it really did feel like you were betraying something by finding yourself drawn to this savage. By imagining that his prediction would prove true, that you’d beg for him. You couldn’t, it would be too much, too shameful. So you kept stumbling through the woods even when the deep tenor of his voice rang through in a mocking little song.

God he had translated this for you once. Told you that brose and butter was a euphemism, that it was about fucking a girl full of cum. It had made you blush and laugh at the time when he playfully sang it over to you now that you understood the meaning, but now? Fuck now it just scared the hell out of you with how the words were tinged with a promise. This was hardly playful, he really meant to hold you down and shove himself inside you out here in the woods where anyone could walk by. 

“We can’t! John please, not here” you pleaded, pausing to try and find where he was. “I… you were gone for months, I’ve not…”

He had made you promise before he left that you’d save yourself for him, wouldn’t even put your own fingers inside yourself while he was gone. And you hadn’t. Fuck you would be so tight now, not ready for him to take you hard. Had he known even then that this was the plan?

“Maiden are ye? Scared it’s going tae hurt, princess? It will, did they naw teach ye that we’re animals? We dinnae treat wee English lassies the way yer own men would. Ye’ll get treated the way ye should, like a fucking whore. And ye’ll take it won’t ye? Ye’ll take it wherever I want tae give it tae ye.”

Fuck, you were starting to slip away to whereever he was. You were starting to feel less like yourself and more like the poor English maiden being hunted by the enemy. The bunny being hunted by the hound. Starting to drift away into pure animal instinct, pure fear and arousal. You could hardly breathe now, feeling tears prick at your eyes.

“Please…” you sobbed quietly, not even sure what you were begging for.

And then he was there, towering over you and wrapping a hand around your throat, thumb beneath your chin to tilt your head and force you to look at him. 

“Wonder whit they’d think of ye begging so pretty for the enemy. Cannae help yerself can ye?” he said, as if fascinated by you, slipping his other hand up your dress and under your panties. “Fucking English slut. Y’er dripping.”

Your reaction to those words was violent and unexplainable. It made your legs shake and your pussy clench painfully hard. It was confusing how much it affected you, causing such a flood of wetness that Johnny noticed, his pupils dilating as he squeezed at your throat and laughed when that made you whimper and claw at his hand. He only kept on squeezing until you were starting to see stars.

“Dinnae fucking move princess.”

The pressure of his hands was gone in an instant and the flood of oxygen made you dizzy. There was no time for you to recover before he was on his knees in the dirt, treating your pussy like it was a mouth and sloppily kissing it over your panties. The press of his tongue was insistent and overwhelming, like he was trying to bully it past the fabric. When he ripped at your waistband with his teeth the lace tore. 

He continued his attack like he truly was a wolf sinking his teeth into a fresh meal, completely ruining your underwear until the mangled scraps fell to the floor and left you bare. Your hands were woven into his mohawk and you tried to pull him away, earning a growl that reverberated into your bones and a heavy handed smack to your ass before he assaulted your clit with tongue and teeth and spit. 

You felt yourself clench so hard that you almost felt nauseous. Fuck. You were trying to keep some sense of self, trying to remember that you were out in public and he was some feral version of the man you loved who was saying horrible things to you and promising he was going to hurt you. But there was a creeping haze taking over, turning you dumb for him. 

It wasn’t even something you had been aware was happening when you came on his tongue. It was just sensation, just the desperate need for more. The primal desperation to be fuller even as he pushed his tongue into your over sensitive hole while your walls fluttered through the pleasure of that high.  

“Please, need you.”

“Aye, that right? Needy wee slut.”

You were too far gone to notice that while he was rough in getting you onto your back in the dirt, one hand was gentle in cradling your head to make sure it landed softly. 

“Use those pretty wee words. Ask me for it the way ye’d ask a good English man.”

Ask me for it the way ye’d ask Simon.

When all you could do was wriggle underneath him and whine he grabbed the neckline of your dress and yanked it down to let your breasts spill out, slapping hard at one and making you howl. 

“They naw teach ye how tae talk proper ye wee slut? Ask fucking nicely.”

“Please, please I want you inside me.”

“Aye, can tell that princess. Whit else?”

“Want you to cum inside me.”

“Good fucking girl, wisnae so hard now was it?”

He didn’t take any of his clothes off, just fished his hard cock from his jeans, hooked your knees on his shoulders and pressed into your wet heat in one fluid motion. You both groaned as he bottomed out. It had been so long, you were so fucking tight around him. 

“M’so full, thank you thank you ,m’yours, need you. Fuck, ah. Made for you, it’s so much” you rambled, incoherent in your bliss. 

“There she is, needed this naw? Needed my cock deep in this tight wee English cunt. Cannae be a person without it, it’s whit ye were made for. Fucking built tae be on yer back with yer legs open for me.”

He stayed like that for what felt like forever, the fullness pushing any coherent thought out of your head. Fuck he was so deep like this, with you nearly folded in half. It felt like you were choking on his dick. You were clawing at the dirt by your sides so hard that you thought your fingers might bleed, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head before they could.

You were so cock drunk that you were only distantly aware of the look in his eyes now, the almost obsessive adoration as he took in how you looked pressed into the earth like this, dress rucked up from the bottom and pulled down from the top, palm print visible from where he had slapped at you, knees by your ears, hands pinned over your head and yet despite it all so blissed out you were salivating and babbling at him how you needed him.

When he pulled all the way out to the tip and then slammed back home you choked on the wind being knocked right out of you. It only encouraged him as he started to fuck you hard and deep, taking him time to make sure every thrust settled him so incredibly deep inside of you that you were floating. 

“Braw wee creature aren’t ye? Feart of me and gagin’ fer it anyway. Dinnae fash bonnie, gettin’ yer hole proper.”

You knew vaguely that he was close because you could hardly understand what he was saying. You were so unable to do anything in this position, no leverage on your arms and legs that you could use to pull him closer. 

“Inside, need it inside. Please, please ah!” you cried, no shame left in so as you begged like a bitch in heat for him to cum inside you. 

He shifted and sped his pace, nailing that spongy spot inside you that was making your vision black out with every thrust. You’d have marks on you from the buttons and zipper of his jeans. You’d have marks on your throat and your wrists, on your tits. He needed more, he needed anyone to take one look at you and know who you belonged to.

“‘at’s it, take it. Fuck. Good lass” he groaned as he sunk his teeth into your throat and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you came, clamping down on his cock.

He jackhammered into you, forcing his way in while your pussy tried to force him out. The tight heat of it was too much and he growled and stilled after one more brutal thrust had him cumming deep inside you. He collapsed on top of you, the painful stretch from being folded as you were a delicious burn with the extra pressure forcing you to stretch further. 

You stayed like that for a while, both panting. Only when you were slowly coming back to your senses did you feel a sharp pain in your back from what must have been a particularly jagged stone. Ah, you thought you were probably bleeding on it, feeling something sticky. 

“Bannockburn” you breathed out softly.

The pressure was off of you almost immediately and he let go of your wrists and kneeled up, pulling out with a soft sigh leaving both of you at the feeling. He was quick to tuck himself in before his hands were back on you, gentle this time, fixing your dress and rubbing at all the spots he had marked.

“C’mere bonnie, ye did so well. Hurting anywhere I need tae look at?”

He looked at your back when you told him, laying soft kisses of apology on you as he cleaned it up. You used to tease Johnny for the little first aid kit he always had strapped to the back of his jeans whenever you went out, but it was coming in incredibly handy. Your panties were toast and he sheepishly tucked the remnants of them into his pocket before getting you to unsteady feet. 

“Creeping Jesus, I’ve made a right mess out of ye” he said with a bashful sort of grin, doing his best to try and fix your hair. 

“Hmm, s’ok” you replied, still a little hazy. 

He kissed you soundly and then gave you an absolute squeeze of a cuddle before scooping you into his arms in a princess carry.

“Let’s get ye all tucked up in the car then we can have a bath and dinner when we’re home eh?”

You nodded and nuzzled into his chest to get comfortable. He would take care of you, he always did.

–

John MacTavish didn’t know how he got so lucky. Not any woman would be softly dozing off in his arms after what he had just put you through. Fuck you were beautiful all of the time, but when you were like this? Fucked out and marked up but achingly soft for him in the afterglow? Jesus, he loved you. He would love you forever, through lifetimes. 

He’d explain obviously, he should really have warned you how hard he was going to go, that should have been pre-negotiated. But he had been so wound up. Fucking Simon Riley and his little comments about you, winding him up by putting thoughts in his head about how demure an English man could get you. It should have just made him laugh and shove at him, instead it made his blood boil and his cock hard and he had taken it out on you. You had let him, you always did until either of you thought it wasn’t safe. 

He paused on his way out of the woods with you, considering waking you so you could see the little glade he had come upon. It was pretty as anything, almost felt like hallowed ground with a giant stone right in the middle. Something about it called to an ancient longing within him. Fuck. He wanted to marry you out here. Was that ridiculous? Maybe just post orgasm stupidity.

Still as he settled you in the car and took you home so he could love you properly, he thought maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

–

“Fuck, Johnny.”

Simon Riley was an Englishman through and through. Everytime he stepped into battle it was to strike down those who would oppose his King and country. Yet he had left the battlefield. He had tracked into the woods, to where he knew MacTavish had crawled off to die. He found him leant against the stone that sat in the centre of a glade. Of course this is where he would want to die. Not on the battlefield, but here. The place he had married you. The place they both had.  

“Ye come tae watch it for yerself Si?” Johnny said with a laugh that turned to a hacking cough. 

“Course. Been trying to kill you for years, not about to miss it.”

Simon sat next to him, both of them looking at the sunlight filtering through the trees. It was peaceful here. Maybe in another lifetime they would not have been enemies. Maybe in another lifetime they could have been brothers.

“Ye’ll look after her until I can find her again?”

“Always.”

#mhairiwrites #cod #cod au #fanfic #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #look I am very much implying that Simon is going to get in on this action #I used all my smut braincells on Savage so the smut is not really hitting as good #had to let some of the angst braincells out for a bit or it wasn't going to get written #personally I think having Bannockburn as a safeword was sick and twisted of me <3

[captain-mj]

Changling!Ghost attempting to court Selkie!Soap before ditching google and asking Soap's mom.

Hell yeah, love it! I also have the next part of this story already planned and ready to go so hope you guys are enjoying it

Ghost checked the time. Currently 4 am. The screen he was on now was an article of Selkies in Scottish folklore.

After reading about how selkies were sexually dominated by those that stole their coats for the dozenth time, he gave up. Every article held pretty much the same thing. An explanation of how men would force the female selkies to be their brides through their coat or how male selkies would have human families they’d see for a while before leaving. Several stated that once a selkie went to sea, they wouldn’t be seen for seven years and he needed to make sure that wasn’t true because he thought he’d go mad if Soap disappeared from him. 

Ghost set his head down. He wished he could sleep, but alas, it was evading him tonight. It’s why he decided to get some research done. Originally, it was to help him court Soap, but he had gotten a bit lost in the stories. 

There were clear distinctions he could make out. Everything before a certain painted selkies as malevolent or benevolent, some even implying there evil. Then the weird sexual stuff. Then when the catholics came and they could be healed by baptism. Considering Soap was very much still here, that wasn’t true. 

There was nothing on courting. Nothing. Just take their coat and force them. He didn't want that.

He checked the time and did the math. Because of the timezone difference it would be 8 where Soap's mom lived.

Ghost called her before he could second guess himself.

"Hello?" She sounded so soft spoken. Her accent just as thick as Soap's though.

"Hi. This is... Ghost? Soap may have called me Simon."

"Oh. I was waiting for your call. I have to say, I appreciate how safe you keep my son." Her voice grew to a whisper and it was clear she was moving around.

"Yes, of course. I'd do anything for him." He had been honest with Soap about one thing and that's that he really did want her to like him.

"Good. I will admit, I was worried when he said he planned to not tell you. Selkies are sensitive, especially my son." There was a threat right under the surface. "So why are you calling?"

"I want to know how to court him. Properly."

"..."

Ghost stared at the wall ahead of him and shoved himself through one of the most excruciating sentences of his life. "I've been looking into it, but I'm not good at human romance, let alone this. I want... Soap to be my husband and I want to be a good husband back."

"..."

Ghost gritted his teeth and bore the silence for a few minutes before finally getting an answer.

"Did you feel this way before seeing his coat?"

"I've felt this way a while, ma'am."

He swore for a moment he heard her sniffle. "Good. Good. I'll help you, okay? First, please disregard anything you've seen online."

"Already did. They mostly just suggest taking his coat or chasing him."

"Chasing comes later, doing that so early on is seen as tacky and too forward." She explained while Ghost felt a blush creep up on his face. "Right now, you need to prove yourself to be a good mate. Little difficult considering your jobs, but prove you're useful. If you were a selkie, I'd suggest hunting bu-"

"I hunt." Ghost interrupted. "Mostly deer. Would that... work?"

"Excellent. Yes. Bring him food and shiny objects. Also, wear your arms bare more."

"Why?" That didn't make much sense.

"Because Soap likes your tattoos. And your arms. I love my son very much, but I didn't need to know your measurements or how much you can lift. Congrats on getting to 275 on bench presses by the way. According to Soap, that's very impressive."

Ghost had turned bright red under his mask. "Thank you."

She laughed softly before humming. "Can you do something for me and not ask why?"

"Sure."

"Say you're doing this to control him."

Ghost paused and went to ask why before stopping. "I'm doing this to control Soap."

"Thank you. Good luck." She hung up on him.

He decided to brush it off, sure she asked for a good reason. 

So Ghost took her advice and bought him a handful of pens that glittered. Soap held them to his chest and blushed. “Thank you.”

Ghost nodded, staring at him. The next time he went to eat, he noticed Soap had given him some extra food. He immediately looked for him, seeing him talk to Gaz. Something warm spread through his chest before he fled to his room to eat. 

Soap visited him after a while and sat with him, talking casually. 

“You want to come with me on our next leave?” Ghost asked suddenly. “I have a cabin in Canada I go to occasionally.” 

Soap stared at him for a minute, clearly thinking. “I’m sorry, ask me that again.” 

“I have a cabin in Canada. It’s only an hour by foot from a coast too.” He looked at Soap who was still processing. 

“I thought you had a flat in Manchester?”

“Yeah, I do. But I have a cabin I hunt at. It’s pretty nice.”

“And you’re inviting me. To stay there. For a week. Alone. In the woods.” Soap leaned forward as he talked.

“Yes. You and me.” Ghost nodded. 

“Okay. Yeah. I’ll go.” Soap said softly.

-

“How much further?” Soap groaned at him. They had gotten off the plane maybe thirty minutes ago. The cab had driven them as far as the road went and now they had been trekking for maybe ten minutes.

“Stop being a baby.”

Soap groaned more. “Do we have to do this every time we need anything?”

“Yep.”

“I’m regretting this already. I think my feet are going to fall off.”

“We’ve walked way more than this for a mission!” Ghost didn’t understand, turning to look at him. There was a lot of snow... And he didn’t really prepare Soap as well as he could’ve.. 

He noticed that Soap’s face was completely red from the cold. He assumed he’d be immune to the cold, but he supposed without his coat, he was just human. 

Ghost moved closer. “Sorry.”

Soap blinked and stared up at him. His eyes were so big. Ghost really, really like them. 

He took off his mask and grabbed Soap’s face, very gently holding. If hypothermia had set in, rubbing would cause the ice crystals in his skin to tear. Once he thought Soap was a little more warmed up, he moved closer, gently rubbing now to make sure there was plenty of blood flow. Soap was still really red though which was concerning. 

Soap stared at him, a lot more aware of their proximity than Ghost. “Simon?” His breath made clouds but Ghost’s didn’t. It was an odd thing to notice, but they both did. 

Ghost slipped his ski mask over Soap head, tucking in carefully. “There. I don’t really get cold. I’ll carry your bag.” He took it from him and started trekking again. Soap grabbed his arm and followed. Maybe he leaned in a bit too much, making it hard for Ghost to walk, but Ghost wasn’t going to say anything. 

Finally they got there and Soap collapsed on the couch. Ghost turned the heat on and sat with him. He took off both their gloves and did the process he remembered for warming someone up. Start with the extremities. Ghost hummed softly. 

Soap pulled off the mask and tossed it on the table. “You gave me your mask.”

“Yeah, I was worried. Your face was super red.” He continued rubbing Soap’s hands until they felt warm. Ghost hummed. “I’m not rubbing your feet. You can just lose some toes.” 

Soap laughed. “Alright. Understood.” He moved a little closer. “This place is... To be honest, I was expecting a shack.” 

It really was a nice place. Two stories, big lofty rooms and mostly wood from the looks of it. “I’m a little insulted. But I like space. Plus no one can be hiding anywhere.” 

Soap laughed. “Paranoid as always, huh, Lt?” 

Ghost shrugged. “There’s a spare room. I know we’re married and all but...”

“I’ll be staying in the spare room for now.” Soap said quickly, blushing as he looked away.

Ghost nodded and showed him where it was. “Before you ask, there is a hot water heater and it lasts for hours. Unlike the one on base.”

“You’re making me a very happy man, Simon Riley.” Johnny smiled at him. 

Simon tried not to vibrate out of his skin. “I’m going to bring you so many deer.”

“What?”

#Johnny Soap Mactavish #Simon Ghost Riley #Soap Cod #Ghost COD #Soapghost #Ghostsoap #Soap x Ghost #Ghost x Soap #Macriley #Call of Duty #Call Of Duty Modern Warfare 2 #Selkie Soap #changeling ghost

[vickozone]

The Magnus Archives

-S4 Notes-

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

SOMETHING ABOUT FANART GOES HERE I THINK

<- previous notes

next notes ->

Handwriting translated below:

#121 Oliver. He’s dead and JON! YOU’RE OKAY!

#122 zombies and Jon’s first instinct from waking up from a 6 month coma is to read a statement. Icon.

#123 He just got back and Melanie wants to kill him and something is up with Martin. Also, The Web, I suppose. Coding?

#124 More Simon. What a guy. Also, Jon is… very concerned for Martin…

#125 The Slaughter is back and Melanie! CALM DOWN! MY HEADPHONES ARE ON LIFE SUPPORT AS IT IS!

#126 The Spiral clarity + Martin is being manipulated (SHE STABBED HIM!?)

#127 Another letter to Jonah. AND ELIAS IS JUST CHILLIN IN PRISON. GO OFF, KING!

#128 Breekon is nothing without Hope. The institute and ooo! Jon eye powers!

#129 Guy drowned in grandpa’s house and JON NEEDS AN ANCHOR! Also, very homosexual interaction.

#130 Meat ritual and JON! NO, SELF HARM IS BAD! YOU BETTER NOT DO WHAT I THINK YOU’RE IMPLYING!

#131 AAAA! AAAA! OH. OH NO. Jared is the Boneturner and Helen is an absolute queen <3

#132 Jon saves Daisy!! Yay! She is also The Hunt, but, whatever. The tapes drew him back…

#133 The Hunt ritual, and Basira… has feelingsss. The Hunt is about the chase, not the kill.

#134 The Extinction!? NO. Also Lukas is the worst. Hate that guy.

#135 “Have I ever told you how much I hate the sun?” -Manuela Lol, The Dark, The Vast, and The Lonely funded the space expedition.

#136 Annabelle! Creepy celeb puppet. And Daisy telling Jon he’s not responsible for everything gives hope. Yes! Therapy!

#137 The Slaughter ritual & Gertrude was fond of Gerry :( The Watcher’s Crown??

#138 “And then the sky blinked.” Elias is literally the ‘no need to thank me’ meme and Jonah and Smirke knew about the 14 fears and then he dies or smthn

#139 The life and crimes of Agnes. Jon MAYBE saw Peter’s plan and- PRAISE THE LORD, JON LIKES MARTIN!!

#140 Stupid Maxwell. Also, Santa is working working with the Devine Host (/j) & we’re going on a trip! :D

#141 Salesa statement from boat guy. Oh, Jon, I see why Martin has a crush on you now. 10/10 voice acting on everyone’s part.

#142 JEEZ, JON! You gave this poor woman literal trauma! Goodness…

#143 oh, it’s Manuela! Jon looked AT the darkness and HELEN IS A SAVIOR!

#144 MARTIN! We do NOT talk to people like that! Especially Daisy! This isn’t you! The Extinction is real, I guess, but, come on! Not cool.

#145 Gertrude is COLD. Dude’s head is somewhere in the institute- uh-

#146 5 people? Goodness, Jon. He can’t control it though, can he? Helen got Marcus and Basira is off to meet with Annabelle friggin Cane.

#147 Okay. No, he can control it. I love Anna. I also got Nikola flashbacks. Oh boy.

#148 Not 5 seconds in and Elias gets assaulted. Jon is worried for Martin and he read a statement about The Eye. A.

#149 Concrete Jungle. Oh and Martin is using Lonely powers. Greaaat.

#150 Homophobic endless houses and Melanie really said “nuh uh” to her job

#151 Simon is my new husband. Uhhh. He answered Martin’s questions, yada yada, he has Lonely powers

#152 More of The Buried. Jon and Helen chat more about avatar crap.

#153 Another odd desolation flesh cult, also Trevor and chic is here and he is HUNGRY

#154 Gerry’s dead dad gives a statement. J + M both F bomb, very gay, eye gouging is the only way out. (“It’s pretty drastic.” “What you gotta gouge your eyes out or something?” “…” “…” “…” “Fuck off.” <- funniest conversation in the whole series)

#155 Guy kills others to keep himself alive + MEL IS REMOVING HER EYES- OKAY-

#156 More extinction about an abandoned park and I am very scared for Martin

#157 another extinction- OMG MEL AND GEORGIE! Did… Helen stab Jon?

#158 SO MUCH. Martin played Lukas, Daisy is feral, ELIAS IS JONAH, Not!Sasha is loose, disaster duo is here, Martin is stuck in Lonely, Gertrude wanted ‘Elias’ to kill her. WHAT.

#159 Peter shares his story, is evaporated. “I see you, Jon…”

#160

Look at the sky, Martin. It’s looking back.

I OPEN THE DOOR!

#the magnus archives #tma #the magnus institute #tma spoilers #tma s4 #tma season 4

[youngroyals-hc]

The boys are at Simon's house, lying in bed after some particularly enthusiastic sex. Simon knows they've dirtied the sheets and he'll need to wash them but he can't bear the thought of moving just yet. Not when Wille is clinging on to him so tight, drawing patterns on his chest and blinking sleepily as he follows his fingers. Eventually, he finds the energy to check the time. His mum will be home on a couple of hours, so if they put the sheets on to wash they should have time to put them in the dryer and redo the bed without her noticing. He sighs softly and kisses Wille's forward who practically keens and snuggles impossibly further into Simon's shoulder.

"Baby, we need to wash the sheets now if we have any hope of getting them done before Mama comes home."

"But Simme, I am so comfortableeee"

"I know, so am I mi amor, but do you really want Linda asking why we are washing the sheets when I haven't been sleeping in this bed the past week?"

"... Okay, you present a very convincing argument."

"How about I go make us some hot chocolate while you put on the sheets as a reward for being so responsible?"

Wille perks up at that and starts searching through the bedding for some underwear, grabbing the first pair he finds and chucking them at Simon (Wille had been wearing them earlier but they were originally Simon's, and he knew he should be weirded out by their habit of sharing underwear but he couldn't help but love it and the domesticity it implied).

They dress and Simon goes to the kitchen, leaving Wille in the laundry with the sheets and humming to himself as he prepares the drinks. He walks back into the laundry five minutes later, only to find Wille cautiously inspecting all the buttons on the machine. He had placed the sheets carefully into the basket and was now desperately trying to work out where to put the washing powder. Simon places the drinks on the bench before stepping to Wille's side and brushing his hand of the small of the Prince's back. He feels bad having left him; he had momentarily forgotten who his boyfriend was and the fact that he'd probably never had to use a washing machine before.

Wille says in a small voice "you must think I'm so pathetic. I don't even know to put bedsheets in a fucking washing machine."

Simon turns to him, and Wille's eyes are downcast so he gently reaches out and holds Wille's chin, turning his head until their eyes met. He strokes over his jaw as he speaks. "Mi amor, why on earth would you know how to use a washing machine? You have never had to use one. Yes, it's a little unusual for most people of our age, but it's not like you've had the most typical upbringing. I promise to never get upset about this kind of stuff Wille. You didn't choose this life or your upbringing. All you can do is ask questions and learn now, and that is enough for me. What do you think?

Wille closes the gap between them, kissing Simon firmly, cupping his hand around his neck.

"Every day, I feel so, so lucky that someone as incredible as you chose to love me." Wille stays close as he says this, staring into Simon's eyes with his intense eyes, the look that could pin you against a wall it is so strong and focused.

"I'm just treating you how you treat me Wille. You never chastise me about not knowing what fork to use or not knowing how to engage in small talk with the princess of Thailand." And Wille grins at the memory of walking up to Simon and the princess only to find he'd just asked her what she thought of the new Zelda game.

"Okay. Thank you Simme."

"Always, Wille. Now, watch closely."

And Simon goes over all the steps, showing Wille exactly what buttons to press and why, and where they keep the washing powder and how much to put in, and Wille listens with the same focus as if he was being briefed about a national emergency. When the machine sings it's little song, they jump off the bed where they have been playing a computer game and Simon shows him how to set the tumble dryer and explains how long different items generally needed.

Later that night they are chatting with Linda at the dinner table when she asks if either of them have dirty laundry as she's about to do a load and Wille quickly says "Oh, we'll do it!" And Linda tried to protest but Wille just tells her he wants to learn how to help out and she can't argue with the precious boy sitting in front of her, so earnest to be liked and accepted. So she lets them do it, Wille practically bouncing as he picks up the basket full of the family's clothes and Simon follows behind him, throwing a smile back at his mum as they leave.

(Wille remembers everything that Simon says, and asks how he should sort the clothes and does he use the delicate setting for this load or is a warm wash okay? And Simon smiles more than is appropriate for laundry.)

#young royals #yr s3 #wilmon #prince wilhelm #simon eriksson #wilhelm x simon #wille young royals #yr #domestic babies

[seal-berry]

sooo

-jay and little destiny left behind bonnie and jays siblings right after their father possibly died

-golbetty couldve eaten simon and he wouldve thanked her and had his wish to be with her forever granted but nope he gets to be PATHOLOGIZED! dont worry simon, your problem has a NAME and its CODEPENDENCY. phew, sure am glad that thorny, complicated topic gets wrapped up nice and neat! be sure to pick up a copy of "the body keeps the score" on the way out, simon. (no shame against that book but the things people assume after reading it are wild and labelling a relationship that has some small flaws as toxically codependent to the point of breakup is one of them)

-fionna gets to get told WHATS WHAT about how STUPID she is for wishing magic was real. just picket and play roller derby like a normal girl, its not like the world needs to REALLY change... changing it might risk what you have! and you APPRECIATE what you have, right fionna? need to watch your friends die some more so that you accept wage slavery america as the pinnacle of existence? you should be sorry for thinking it was so boring, thats not very self care of you fionna

-oh but cake gets to stay. because uhhh. idk. it would be fucked up to have a detransition narrative, i guess? and shes not a 20-something who needs to grow up. i guess we cant accidentally teach our audience to become stretchy cats, so its fine, its not teaching them anything bad! but fionna being magical, now THAT would send the wrong message

- every other couple gets to have romantic/imperfect/codependent moments-- gary sacrifices his WHOLE DREAM for marshall. but the writers know its not very 2023 of them to make the gays more problematic than just. having some psychosexual violence thrown in there for spice. but simon and betty? sorry you werent perfect and she dont want you no more

-any romance that ends with "i am willingly breaking it off with you even though we could be together" needs to work HARD for that to satisfy. golbetty couldve eaten simon and he wouldve thanked her. blowing him off into the world IS DISREGARDING HIS WISHES! it just feels like they imposed Recovery Aesthetic onto simon and fionna and were like see :) Happee Ending! dont look at all the loose threads, simon went to THERAPY! zoomers love when old men go to therapy, right?? simon and betty's issues werent wrestled hard, long, and to the ground enough on-screen to sell that she doesnt want him anymore and that that truly is the best ending she can bring with her ultimate power, it reads that golbetty truly did override betty's self and changed her into an unrecognizeable figure. its so stupid that adding a little bit of pathologizing therapy talk can make people say this was good.

and codependency IS pathologizing. how much dependency is healthy, at what point does it tip into being too toxic to save? that depends on which therapist youre talking to. humans are wired for connection, no amount of CBT and DBT will make you not mourn losing a connection, and the pain of that loss shouldnt be used as evidence that you should just be less attached. simon isnt a mind reader, and betty made her choices. you can call it a "fawn response" but that still implies that you think she was unfit for autonomy. if she really doesnt regret those choices, why doesnt she want to be with simon? that question is not answered well enough to leave it not feeling like a swerve for audience members who arent projecting their own codependent experiences onto betty. the text alone doesnt support it enough for that to ring true, not when they only actually delved into the topic for about 5-10 onscreen minutes. Not to mention the fact that the ending ends with a fucking montage where it looks like simon just turned happy and is living his dream of cheers sitcom life. is that really better than becoming one with your beloved crazy wife forever? is that actually more realistic, in the visceral emotional language that stories speak? is it a more satisfying ending, getting 80% there and then saying "actually this dramatic cool story has some Problematic Elements, I'm going home"?

i wish they gave her more lines. they couldve given her more lines, made simon talking at the audience into a real conversation, and they didnt. there were so many things they couldve done and it ended up at something just as toxic as whatever codependency they were railing against, the idea that the relationship we were shown was too toxic and flawed and that betty was clearly fawning for simon and not capable of making her own decisions while simon shouldve stepped up and fixed that for her. they want to play it like "we must go our separate ways" but there's no must. this is still a choice betty is making, to break up with simon for good, and that choice was always gonna be a hard sell but not even letting betty have more than a few lines about it? how do you expect to sell such a big emotional shift? therapy speak, apparently.

and they seriously played the "simon goes back to his life" card WITHOUT a marcy scene??? lazy heroes journey shit.

#fionna and cake

[young-royals-confessions]

honestly the propaganda that's been pushed against the holy kiss on the basis of the fact that it involved sexuality is reading to me as off-base at best and puritan at worst. implying that the holy kiss is winning only on the basis of it involving sex-- that that's the only reason people would appreciate it-- feels very backhanded to me. the people pushing for movie night have every right to their opinions, of course, but criticizing others for their opinion this way is unjustified. as someone who voted for the holy kiss (a very difficult decision, as most of these have been-- there's so many gorgeous kiss scenes between them, the chemistry is so clear and so beautiful, the cinematography is masterful and hits every time, i could go on and on), there were many reasons why i made that choice-- the emotional build up, their struggles with tension over the season, the fear of them never having this again, and yes admittedly it was hot-- but mostly i voted for it for the kiss itself, specifically that point where they reach up to one another's necks to hold each other where they're at and you can see the longing and desperation in just the crease of simon's brow (omar, you're insane)-- that moment was burned into my retinas the moment i saw it. that hit me like you couldn't imagine, the way they grabbed for one another knowing that sooner or later they were gonna have to let go. the neediness in that moment with the underlying heartbreak because they know it will soon be over. that was something that stuck with me deeply, and for as much as i adore the movie night-- they're first kiss and the tender hesitation that comes with it being that-- it didn't strike at me quite the same way (which it shouldn't, it's their first kiss), so when i was making my decisions, i chose what really stuck with me. honestly, i have no doubt that there's a certain subset of people that are only looking at it from the sexual lense, but does anyone actually think that it's a big enough margin to turn the votes? i too am shocked that it's not a tighter race, or even that the movie night isn't winning (and again, that's with me voting the other side) so i understand why pro-movie night people are upset to an extent, but can we get some pro-movie night propoganda that doesn't imply that the holy kiss is only about sex? or that involving sex makes something inherently less pure and loving? i know that it's there-- hell, i could write it myself. i might, even.

#this is all in fun please dont take the propaganda too seriously! #i voted holy kiss too #but every kiss is perfect!! #i didn't see anyone say the holy kiss is winning bc sex #holy kiss #wilmon kiss tournament

[veliseraptor]

April Reading Recap

so apparently I read a fuckton in April. I put that on the week off for Passover and also a number of very fast reads last month. here goes

The Spite House by Johnny Compton. Might be the best horror book I'd read in a while, and I did not see the twist coming for a long while. Good and very spooky on the whole, but the "creepy kids as ghosts" thing took some of the luster off it. Still, some good and original ideas here and I'll be watching for more books by this author.

The Nine Eyes of Lucien by Madeleine Roux. Not very good writing and a good third of the book was rehashing the events of the end of Campaign 2, which I just watched. It was fine, I guess? But I didn't find it added much.

The Red Tent by Anita Diamant. I've had this one on my list for literal years - it's a retelling of the Biblical story of Dinah, Jacob's one daughter. I kind of wish I'd read it sooner, when (a) I was less burned out on retellings/reinterpretations of familiar stories, and (b) when I would've been less bothered by the flavor of gender essentialism of the text and could have appreciated other things about it without getting stuck in feeling iffy about that. I am trying to work out why it bothers me so much that Diamant chose to change the reading of the text from (an implied) rape to a consensual love affair, and I'm not quite sure I can explain that.

It's an interesting book and I'm glad I read it but I don't think I'd recommend it without disclaimers; I think in some ways it's more interesting as an artifact of the cultural movement it comes out of than anything else. Would analyze in a class about Jewish feminist responses to stories in Tanakh (or Talmud, tbh).

Six Myths of Our Time: Little Angels, Little Monsters, Beautiful Beasts and More by Marina Warner. Fascinating collection of short essays originally given as lectures on the BBC, apparently - the one essay about the way the West conceptualizes the simultaneous purity/monstrosity of children was particularly interesting to me. Interesting piece of work I picked up totally by happenstance because it was short and looked interesting and it lived up to both qualities.

Gallows Hill by Darcy Coates. Good spooky horror recommended by @cigaretteburnslikefairylights and actually legit scared me in places, which doesn't happen all that often to me anymore when I'm reading horror. (I'm still a weenie watching it.) I actually...liked this one start to resolution and am going to be looking up more of Darcy Coates' writing, because if it's not, you know, doing something super ~innovative~ it is good spooky reading and that's really what I've been craving.

Krakatoa: The Day the World Exploded by Simon Winchester. Reading this book was a weird experience. I went into it just thinking "ooh, book about an interesting natural disaster, I love volcanoes" and came out of it going "whoa, surprise Islamophobia," checked the publication date, and learned it was 2003, whereupon I was miserably unsurprised. I don't know why the author felt like he needed to make colonial apologetics and blame the post-eruption upheaval on Islamic fundamentalists manipulating the natives into uprising against their Dutch masters but apparently he did. (I'm exaggerating. But not that much.)

The geology stuff was interesting. Mr. Winchester should've stuck with that and the reportage of the eruption itself and left politics out of it.

Violent Phenomena: 21 Essays on Translation ed. by Kavita Bhanot & Jeremy Tiang. This might be my favorite book I read in April, honestly. It's a really good collection of essays about the concept of decolonizing translation, and what that means, and whether it's possible, and the uneasy and uncomfortable relationship between translation and imperialism. I didn't agree with all the essays in here, and they didn't necessarily all agree with each other, but all of them at least had something interesting to say. I would recommend this one to people who can find it - it's by a small press - who are interested in translation or who frequently read in translation. The writers have a lot to say that I think is worth thinking about.

She Is a Haunting by Trang Thahn Tran. I think I just need to give up reading YA books with the realization they're generally not for me, though this one almost had me. It's something about the...I know there's a range of styles, I can't generalize style across the genre, but there is a texture to YA writing that doesn't quite work for me.

I love the concept - diaspora horror, colonialist horror, some really fucked up body horror stuff that got surprisingly gruesome - and would love to read a slightly different book about it, but alas, that book wasn't this one.

American Midnight: Democracy's Forgotten Crisis, 1917-1921 by Adam Hochschild. Another contender for favorite book I read this month though I think this one loses out to Violent Phenomena and possibly Gallows Hill, though comparing horror fiction to historical nonfiction feels kind of unfair. Anyway, I knew some of what this book was digging into - the Sedition Act and the intensely violent repression that was going on in the United States during World War I - but I learned a lot more here.

The depressing thing about reading this, though, was watching (so to speak) the brutal crushing of a once fairly robust American Socialist Party such that it never recovered. Not to mention the grinding down of the labor movement, which I think was at its most powerful during this period of time and hasn't been as strong since.

Just looking at that and wondering what might've been if Woodrow Wilson wasn't such a fucking dick.

Elektra by Jennifer Saint. I feel so funny about this book. I read another mythology retelling even though I swore not to because a Tumblr user I respect mentioned it being good; my experience was that it wasn't bad and it didn't actively bother me like some other retellings I could name, but I don't know that I'd actually call it good. Mostly I'd say I wasn't annoyed, just uninspired.

Of the three narrators, Elektra was definitely the best, and I really did like the construction of her relationship with Clytemnestra, which really felt like the meat of the book. (Perhaps, considering the House of Atreus, that's a bad turn of phrase to use.) The Cassandra sections felt like a distraction, mostly a way to keep the reader up with what was going on across the sea and provide some action in between the familial drama. Ultimately I just felt like those sections took away from the Elektra/Clytemnestra dynamic, leaving insufficient meat.

Fuzz: When Nature Breaks the Law by Mary Roach. I went through a period of time where I was reading all of Mary Roach's books, and was kind of obsessed with them, so this was sort of returning to an old and familiar friend. I found I wasn't quite as enamored with this one as I remembered being of some of her others (I think I remember Stiff being my favorite), but it was an interesting look at the intersections between human and animal - which is really more what this is about than law, per se. It's about what we do when animals cause problems for humans, from monkeys to bears, and the questions that are raised about the best way to handle those issues.

Nero: Matricide, Music, and Murder in Imperial Rome by Anthony Everitt & Roddy Ashworth. I'm so confused by this book. From the insistence on referring to Nero as "princeps" throughout the book, to the random dropping of French in places it really didn't need to be, to the frankly credulous approach to the sources, particularly when it comes to sex, even when the author mentioned how sex is often a proxy for politics in Roman historical writing, the weird sideways digression into "did Rome have gay marriage?", the weird "maybe she got what she deserved" aside about Messalina's death...

I learned a fair amount, I can say that, I'm not as knowledgeable about this period's Julio-Claudians. Frankly I think Agrippina (the Younger) was the real star of this book, despite Anthony Everitt's heroic efforts to make Nero the protagonist. Buddy, I see your point, but you're pushing a little too hard here.

Anyway. Weird reading experience, I'm tempted to recommend it just so someone else can either validate it or go "what are you talking about, this was a perfectly normal history book."

---

woof long post, but hey it was a lot of books. currently reading A Fever in the Heartland for more American racism in the early 20th century. I have a stack of library books that are waiting for me and I think the next one is probably going to be The Social Lives of Animals, which will either be really enjoyable or annoy the hell out of me, possibly both.

#reading recaps #sometimes i read things #long post for ts

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Going Back

Summary: Dieter finds himself in his Agent's office after a successful six month long rehab, when he gets a phone call that puts things into perspective. He goes back home to say goodbye... and meets you.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 3.8k

Rating: T

Warnings: angst, mentions of drugs, cancer treatment, character death, grief, fluff, implied pregnancy

A/N: Never really wrote for Bravo except for the Calls, but wrote this in like 2 hours last sunday. Hope you like it

Los Angeles, California 

He did not remember going back into the office of his manager after he ended the phone call with his brother. There were several people whose names he couldn’t even remember in the room who were talking about him, as if he wasn’t even in the room. Or interested. 

Then again for the last years he probably wasn’t very interested. 

Where these meetings always this boring? No wonder he was on drugs most of the time. 

They were talking about him, as if he wasn’t a person but a…. Thing they have to fix. Something to keep their pockets filled.

Okay… Honestly, he did some really really fucked up stuff in the past. The girls, the drugs, the….. 72 hour marriage to a girl named Candy he met in Las Vegas. 

But the overdose while shooting Cliff Beasts was a… very unpleasant but loud wake up call. He had never thought about his life as… as something so precious. And he had lived his life. He had a job he loved and people who loved him.

At least he thought they did. 

“Dieter are you listening?” Dieter pushed his sunglasses up on his nose, raising his head to look at John, his manager of nine years. He was a shark. He and his publicist had pulled Dieter out of so many fucked up shit the last years. Made him a big star who didn’t have to live from paycheck to paycheck while playing in shitty theatre pieces and made him famous. 

He was the Dieter Bravo, almost EGOT (the Emmy was still missing), face of Ray Ban (at least until earlier this year).

“What?” Dieter snapped, wanting nothing more than to call up his old dealer to get… something. 

“We’re sending you to another rehab. We know you’re clean… But the public… We need you to work with us, so we can go back to finding you some new roles. To build you back up.”

Dieter breathed in deeply as a woman started talking he had never met before. Or… he did not remember ever seeing before. The last few years were a little foggy. 

And… he was thankful for the work these people did for him. But… this, his career, these people…. They were not important. 

Nothing was important. 

The last thing he felt like doing was to go to another rehab just to have some paps conveniently snapping some pics of him towards the end with a woman his manager would hire that he would end up fake dating just to… get him back out there. 

“Simon will pick you up in the morning,” John said. 

“No,” was all Dieter said and the room fell silent almost immediately. 

“Dieter, we talked about this. Your last fall out was… too much. We need to…”

“We don’t need to do anything. I need to do what you tell me, so I can keep being your golden goose to pay your mortgages.”

“Dieter…”, John said sternly. 

“No. If I’m not mistaken your contract as my manager runs out at the end of next month, am I right?”

Dieter saw John’s jaw work before he nodded. 

“Good. Then consider this the last time we see each other,” Dieter got up from the uncomfortable chair he was sitting in. 

“You’re all fired,” he said, before he grabbed his phone and left the room. 

Santa Teresa, New Mexico

You were sitting in your usual place on the old armchair next to Carla. 

It was a good day today and you fought against the thought that this could be her last. It had been hard to make the phone call yesterday after the doctor had been here. The medication wasn’t helping her anymore so it would only be days before…

Carla Ramos did deserve better. 

She was the funniest woman you had ever had the pleasure of caring for. Since the day you moved into her house almost seven years ago you had felt like part of the family. 

Her son, the famous one who you only met once, was the one who paid for you but it was Ramon, his other brother who you were in contact with. 

Yes, the woman named one of her sons Ramon Ramos and when you first learned this information you had giggled like a schoolgirl while said son only rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile on his lips. 

Carla had been diagnosed with a rare form of kidney cancer and you had been with her through all of it. Every single doctor visit. Every chemo appointment. You had been with her every single day and last night you had allowed yourself to cry after the learning the news that she only had days left. 

When Carla learned the news she had only smiled softly and turned her head towards you, telling you that she now has to hurry up finding you a husband. 

You had held back the tears until you were in the security of your own room, already grieving the woman sleeping just down the hall who had become like a mother to you. 

She was currently sleeping and you were reading in your book when there was a knock on the door. You frowned, not expecting any visitors until the next day when Ramon and his family were supposed to come. 

Closing your book you took a look at Carla before you tiptoed out of the room and towards the door where you could already see a man standing. You narrowed your eyes, trying to make out who it was when he turned and you caught a look on his face. 

You took a deep breath.

You hadn’t expected him to come. His brother must have called him. 

Of course you knew who Dieter Bravo was. You had to have been living under a rock to not know him. You had read your fair share of gossip about him in the last years, but it was the awe with which his mother talked about him that made you feel like you knew him. 

She was his biggest fan. 

Which was one of the big reasons you grew to despite him in the last years. He had visited once since her diagnosis. Yes, he paid for everything, including you, but…. What kind of person does not take care or visit of his sick mother?

You glanced over to the old piano that had never been played since you got here, catching sight of his Oscar he had brought home the one time he had visited. 

He had wanted his mother to have it.

You took another deep breath, knowing that this was not the time to let your anger towards his behaviour get the best of you, before you opened the door.

Dieter had forgotten just how many things there were that he had paid other people to do for him. 

Packing his suitcase.

Booking a private jet and then deciding against it and buying a commercial flight ticket.

Renting a car at the airport.

Driving a car by himself.

Yet once he sat in the driver's seat of his rented Toyota it was like no time had passed since he packed his bags and went to chase his dream of becoming an actor. He made his way through his hometown until he parked his car in front of the flower places he had always bought his mama’s favourite flowers. Sun flowers. 

Dieter felt like shit.

Not because of how he behaved in the public eye but… how he treated his family in the past. His family who always put up with him no matter what he did. 

The therapist at his last rehab, the one he really committed to and got clean (16 weeks and counting) had talked with him about his family. And… thinking back he could admit to himself that shit had started to get really fucking complicated for him drugwise when he had learned of his mothers cancer diagnosis. 

Dieter was a mama’s boy. His father left the family when he and his brother were still in kindergarten and his mother became his biggest hero.

Even more so when he was grown up and noticed just how much she had worked to provide for him and his brother. 

So the first thing he did from his first big paycheck was buy her a house and get her everything she ever dreamed of.

But all the money and fame in the world meant nothing, when his mother was dying. 

It had been a hard reality check, the phone call from Ramon only yesterday. So many things had changed since yesterday. Of course Dieter knew that his mother was sick. He saw the bills and signed the paycheck for the live-in nurse he had hired. 

But… he had always pushed it far away in his mind. The drugs had been a great distraction from it. And the women. And men. 

He couldn’t cope with the thought of living in a world where his mother wasn’t a phone call away, so when Ramon called and told him that it was time to say goodbye, Dieter had gotten the reality check he had needed. 

Now here he was, a big arrangement of sunflowers in his arms, standing in front of the house he had bought for his mother. 

Since yesterday he had fired his manager and publicist and hired a lawyer (not the one from his divorce) to handle all of his affairs. Including selling his house in the Hollywood Hills.

He never wanted to go back. He didn’t even know if he wanted to work as an actor anymore. He just wanted to… live. And be Dario Ramos again. 

The door opened after he knocked and he put his sunglasses up on top of his head looking at you. 

“Mr. Bravo?” you asked.

“Dieter,” he tried to smile, completely caught off guard. He knew that he had hired you. He remembered that he met you once, a very foggy memory much like everything in the last years. How could he have not noticed how… young and beautiful you were?

You were wearing leggings and a too big shirt with a faded Star Wars print on it.

“Would you like to come in?” you asked and he nodded. You stepped to the side to let him in and he walked into the house, feeling like a complete stranger, yet noticing how much had changed since the last time he had visited. 

He looked… Different than in the last pictures Carla had shown you. 

Healthier. 

“Uhm….” he turned around, picking a single sunflower and handing it to you. You tilted your head before you took it, your fingers brushing over his. 

“This is for you. I… As a thank you. Which is…. Ridiculous thinking back now. I…” he took a deep breath.

You were touched that he even remembered you. 

“Your mother is asleep. She is having a good day. She will be thrilled you’re here,” you said as you turned away from him to walk towards the kitchen. You heard him follow you. Laying the sunflower down on the counter you reached over the sink to get two vases. A small one for the single one and a bigger one for the other flowers. You groaned, getting on your tiptoes when you couldn’t reach them. 

“Let me…” you felt his hand on your shoulder and you looked up at him as you took a step to the side and let him pull two vases from the cabinet. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, confused by him. So confused.

You were expecting the cocky drug addict Oscar winner Dieter Bravo, not… this version of him. 

He nodded once at you before he walked back and you began to fill the vases with water.  You smiled to yourself when you put the single flower for you into the small vase and tried to remember the last time someone had gotten you flowers. 

“I’m sorry you know?” he said.

“I… did a lot of fucked up stuff these last years but not being here? Fucking pathetic…”

You turned around. 

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. You’re…”

“You were here. Every day. While I was getting shitfaced and fucking myself through half of the country.”

You pressed your lips into a hard line to keep yourself from reacting. 

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this…” he shook his head looking down at his hands.

“Dieter…” you said.

“Don’t call me that,” he sighed and your eyes softened.

“Dario,” you said and he looked up at you. 

“Would you like some of your mothers homemade iced tea?”

You didn’t mean to listen in, but you had heard Clara laugh and you stopped on your way back to your room as you listened to Dieter… Dario telling her about the time he had almost peed himself on set. 

“You’re a good man, Dario,” you heard Clara say. He sighed.

“I should have been here.”

“You’re here now. You can’t change what happened in the past. Just… promise me to think about it…”

“Mom, no…” 

You made yourself walk back to your room, not wanting to listen in in the first place. 

Clara had been over the moon when she saw her son and you had kept yourself busy to give them both time together. 

It gave you time to think.

Of course the last few years had given you time to form an opinion about your employer. But actually spending some time with him made you rethink some of your foreformed opinions.

There was the picture inside of your mind you had formed. Of the playboy cocky asshole who could have everyone and everything he wanted with a snap of his fingers. Who didn’t care about anyone but himself and where to get his next fix.

You grew to despise this picture of him.

But then there was this other side. The man who facetimes his mother every sunday to have breakfast with her in bed. 

You sighed to yourself, sitting in your window seat as you sipped on your glass of wine. 

It was always easier to hate someone than to try to understand them. It didn’t give them the opportunity to explain themselves.

Not that he had anything to explain to you. 

You were just the help. The woman who took care of his sick mother. 

You didn’t know how long you sat there looking at the stars when you heard the soft tunes of a piano down the hall. You set your wine glass down and quietly walked out, checking in on Clara who was soundly sleeping on your way before you walked into the living room.

His sponsor did not pick up the phone. 

Dieter wanted nothing more than to get some pills that made him forget just how much of a fucking failure he was. Instead he took a shower and sat down at the old piano that his mother still owned. 

He had learned to play on this very piano when he was little. The tunes came to him like an old friend as he closed his eyes and let his fingers fly over the keys. When he opened his eyes he looked straight at the Academy Award with his name on that was displayed next to his Grammy and Tony. 

What did all these awards mean anyway?

He closed his eyes, continuing to play to stop the voice inside his head that wanted him to get out of here and get some coke… or pills… or something to make all these feelings inside of him go away. 

He ended the song and just sat there in the darkness, his eyes closed. 

“That was beautiful,” he heard a whisper and his eyes snapped open to find you standing in the doorway. 

“I haven’t played in years,” he shrugged.

“Maybe you should. You looked peaceful while you played.”

He gave you a small smile, one that reached his eyes. 

“I put clean sheets on in the guest bedroom next to mine. Ramon and his wife always stay in the room next to your mother’s. I hope that’s okay.”

“Thank you,” he said and you gave him a small smile.

“You know what would make you play the piano even better?” you asked him and he shook his head.

“If you had some clothes on,” you winked at him and he looked down at his body, only then noticing that he was completely naked. 

He was about to answer you when he looked up but you were already gone. 

He sighed with a little chuckle, smiling to himself before he made his way to his assigned bedroom and fell asleep the moment his head hit the soft pillow.

Clara died in the early evening on the next day. 

She fell asleep peacefully, surrounded by all her loved ones. 

You gave the family some time, slipping out of the room, before you called the doctor to let him know. He assured you he would make the calls needed and you gave him a watery thank you before you ended the call and walked out to the patio. The sun was setting behind the hill and with it you let the tears fall. You hugged yourself as you tried to keep your sobs quiet. 

The door opened behind you and you didn’t turn around, trying to calm your breath as you looked over the wide countryside in front of you. 

“All my life I wanted to get away from here,” Dieter began and you closed your eyes. 

“When I was a teenager I hated living here. But my mom…. She loves this place. Until now I didn’t understand why, but I think I do now,” he continued and you sucked your bottom lip in to keep yourself from falling apart. 

“I’m really really thankful for you being here while I wasn’t. You were… She loved you like her daughter.”

You sobbed, shaking your head. 

Slowly, arms wrapped around your shoulders and you let your head fall down, your forehead falling against his chest. You opened your arms to hug him back, as Dieter’s chin rested on your head. 

Your finger grasped at the soft fabric of his shirt as he held you while you cried. 

One of his hands ran soothing circles on your back and you tried to get even closer to him, breathing him in. 

“I should be the one holding you right now,” you mumbled after a while. 

“It’s okay. We both just lost someone we loved.”

“I’m so sorry D…” you said, pulling your cheek against his chest. You felt him kiss your hair and you released a shuddering breath. 

You didn’t know how long you stood there holding each other, but when he let go as the doctor came, you felt a little lighter.

It was the day after the funeral that you found yourself sitting in the living room of Clara’s house. Dieter was sitting on the sofa next to you, his brother and wife across from you as you looked at Mr. Miller, the family lawyer who was about to read the last will of one Clara Ramos. 

You didn’t know why you were here. This was a family affair. Then again… you had nowhere to go. 

When you heard your name you looked up. 

“You, my best friend, the daughter I never had, to you I will leave this house. This house that you made so much brighter in these last years with your heart, your humour and smile. I know you will disagree with this decision, but sweetheart this is my thank you to you. Make this place a home for you and your future family. And if I die before we find you a husband, please…” the lawyer stuttered and you swore you could see him blush “at least find a man to rock your world. God knows you did not get any action while you stayed here with me.”

You shook your head to yourself with a smile, feeling overwhelmed. You felt Dieter take your hand, squeezing it once before he wanted to let go, but you didn’t let him. 

“So… when are you kicking me out?” he asked later that evening. You were both sitting on the porch, you with a beer and he with some iced tea. His brother and wife had left earlier, leaving you and Dieter alone at the house. Your house. 

“I still can’t believe that she would just give me this house. It should have…”

“Stop. She loved you. She wanted you to have it and you know better than to argue with her. Even now,” he smiled as he looked up towards the sky, cheering his glass towards it. 

“But still…”

You sat there in silence for some time. 

“You can stay as long as you want Dieter,” you said after a while and he looked at you from his side. 

“Are you sure? People say I can be very fucking annoying.”

You smiled. 

“I think these people only know Dieter Bravo. I know Dario Ramos. He’s… He’s pretty okay.”

He huffed a laugh.

“Pretty okay?”

“I don’t know him very well,” you teased. 

“Would you like to?”

“What?”

“Get to know him?”

You frowned. 

“Dieter can be a real asshole but… I think I would like you to meet me. The real me. If you… If you want to,” he added. He was nervous you could tell.

You shuffled closer to him and he looked at you with those warm brown eyes that held so many secrets. 

“I would like that,” you whispered and smiled up at him. He smiled back, his arm coming around your back to pull you against his side as you lay your head against his shoulder. 

Five years later

“Mr. Bravo! So good to see you back on the red carpet. You look great. You are nominated for three Academy Awards tonight. Congratulations on the success of “Going back”. What inspired you to write this story?”

Dieter smiled at the camera, before he looked down at the silver ring on his left ring finger. He always wore rings, no one thought much of it. But this one was special. You had put it on his finger. 

“Life,” he said, thinking of you waiting for him back home. How you were watching him, probably laying in bed because your pregnant belly was killing your back. You couldn’t travel anymore and he didn’t want to come either tonight but you insisted.

No award would ever compare to spending time with you.

“It was inspired by life.”

#my fic #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x fem. reader #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

[sickgraymeat]

This is obviously not the most important part of the series overall but FOR ME the most important and impactful thing about AT is Bonnie’s struggle with her own agency, which is so deeply tied to sexual trauma and other consent- and body-related traumas. Feel like the fact that she appears (and is, to an extent) emotionally shallow and snobby and stubborn/in denial makes her less a target of sympathy, which is.. just very true to real life. Sad, lonely man rapes women in altered state of mind— tragic hero. His favorite victim (both before and during the time she knows him) scrambles to protect herself, sometimes hurting others in the process, sometimes by making herself numb to a threat rather than ousting it directly— evil bitch.

I have a lot of sympathy for Simon. Honestly he’s so much like me it’s a little scary. It’s just so incredibly disheartening to see the imbalance of criticism there. I’m late to the fandom so maybe I missed a lot, but I’ve seen so much criticism of Bonnie. Criticism of Simon, from what I’ve seen, is almost always “it was the crown” to some degree. An altered state of mind. Not a different person. If you don’t think he raped, I don’t know what to tell you. CN wasn’t about to give all the details, but it’s about as implied as it possibly could be. If you think he couldn’t have raped her because of who she was or what she’s capable of, then honestly block me right now please. That is not a thing and it never has been and it never will be, with anyone.

I obviously don’t know how F&C will look, but based on the trailer and cast/crew quotes I’m guessing we’re going to see a lot of Simon’s guilt and grief and despair, and honestly, I don’t care. I don’t care. Honestly when I watch it I might care a little bit, but if I do, I’ll wish I don’t, because all I can do with that caring is feel bad for him, which means feeling bad about wanting him to feel bad. And if you do care, I’m not judging you. I get it, really! Maybe I’m taking this all too seriously, but isn’t that why we’re all here? It’s important to us. It is serious.

I just want the record to show that I am so fucking tired. And I might not be the only one, so I’m posting it. Yeah!!

#rape mention / #adventure time #princess bubblegum #bonnibel bubblegum #simon petrikov #ice king #jus talkin #victim blaming / #rape culture #maybe I’ll remove those tags later lol might regret making this so visible

[phantomphaeton]

The Bridgerton Brothers, Seduction, and Robert Greene

The English language is vast and there are a thousand unnecessary words for everything, but in many cases the different words that all describe the same thing actually provide small nuanced differences that can provide specificity for our understanding. Among those words—and this subject of this enormously long post—is the word rake.

At some point during my extensive Googling of the boys, all three Bridgerton brothers and Simon, the Duke of Hastings, have been described as rakes. The word is beaten to death throughout the two seasons we’ve had so far, and I am already prepared to have it dinned into my ear further during season three.

But with the show’s immense popularity, the word is making its way into mainstream vernacular again. Now let’s take a seat and pour out some whiskey coffee, and put our feet up by the fire while I take a closer look at the liberal use of the word in the series and how it specifically applies to the men we’ve encountered on the show thus far.

First of all—before I get to analyzing how the word applies to each of the Bridgerton brothers, the question must be asked: What the fuck is a rake?

Well, the most standard of sources (dictionary.com) defines a rake as ‘a dissolute or immoral person, especially a man who indulges in vices or lacks sexual restraint.’ In the words of myimperfectlife.com, ‘a rake walked so that modern-day players and fuckboys could run.’ 

The author Sarah MacLean, a prominent historical romance novelist, defines a rake as thus: A rake is a lovable scoundrel….Usually, a rake is someone who has been around and has had a number of relationships. He's probably pretty handsome. He's probably pretty charming. He's definitely someone who's not interested in marriage. Celibacy is off the table. No serious relationships of any kind. Essentially, the rake is the bad boy with the heart of gold. 

Eh, seems straightforward enough, right? Not quite. As it turns out, there were a lot of different types of seducers back in the day of quills and chamber inkpots. A rake was just one of them, and while the showrunners (and Julia Quinn) prefer to use the word rake as a broad-stroke description for all three of the men I’m going to be classifying (like amoeba or something—this is very clinical), the reality is that there are other names for ladies’ men that have been sidelined even though a powerful argument can be made that they are infinitely more appropriate for the individual characters. 

The author Robert Greene, whose works on human nature with respect to war, power, and seduction provide the main reference point for most all of this essay, defines a rake as thus:

A rake is a male seducer who catches the female fancy by incessantly pursuing her….a rake has an effect on women due to his ability to show an ardent devotion to her. She is attracted to him because he seems to be madly in love with her. He shows no hesitation or reluctance, and unabashedly admits his weakness when in her presence, hence making himself every woman's dream come true. He is an expert at using words and language to show his devotion….the Rake also keeps a part of his personality hidden, creating a sense of danger and thrill. He also has a reputation for being a ladies's man and being reckless in love, but he never downplays or hides his notoriety. Instead he uses it to his advantage to generate interest among women. 

With this definition before us providing the central argument of my entire essay, we can see that the word ‘rake’ has been too liberally applied for pretty much every guy on the show. So now I will proceed to conduct my analysis on each of the three gentlemen we’ve encountered thus far, why they are not rakes, and what type of seducer they are instead. This requires me to clarify an important point:

The three oldest Bridgerton siblings (Anthony, Benedict, and Colin) are all, at some point, described as rakes. The only thing this is meant to imply to us as viewers and consumers of Bridgerton content is that none of them are virgins, which honestly doesn’t really help us classify them. 

Let’s begin with our favorite unhinged, slovenly whore—the Viscount Lord Anthony Bridgerton.

It wasn’t tough to analyze Anthony in spite of the fact that the second season left me thinking he was insane. Anthony is defined—in books and on screen—as an incurable, Capital R Rake. If you know your alphabet, then you’ll know that after an R must come an S, and Anthony’s season saw him transition from a Capital R Rake to a Capital S Simp. In between him going feral for Kate’s perfume, picking out the sheerest shirts known to man, and eye-fucking Kate from across rooms while he emotionally masturbates to their fantasy future, we hear the word get thrown around a lot. It’s not hard to believe it—he behaves like a real fuckboy. 

But let’s take a closer look, shall we?

Anthony is the easiest character to classify as a rake. His opening scene in season 1—literally the first impression that we get of him—is him fucking a girl against a tree while his coachman valiantly tries to pretend that he is literally anywhere else. This falsely presents Anthony as a lighthearted, devil-may-care sort of guy. He’s living without a care. He’s enjoying his youth. By the end of the pilot episode we know better. We see him as an overprotective, overbearing, controlling, more-than-slightly misogynistic asshole who needs to introduce his face to a straight razor (and not just because of the sideburns).

His fierce protectiveness of Daphne, which bars her from expanding her social network with critical connections during this extremely important part of her life, does not win him any brownie points among fans. His hypocrisy in being so obsessively overbearing only makes us dislike him more—we as viewers know where he goes when these parties are over. He takes his sisters home and treats them like lambs to be herded, and then scurries off to the other side of town and crawls into bed with his mistress. We develop a deeper understanding of him as the show progresses, and by the end of season 2 he’s pretty much adored by the audience.

Is Anthony Bridgerton a Rake? The answer to that is in his romantic history.

Right from the start, Anthony is established as a sexually active man. He spends the entirety of the first season hung up on his turbulent relationship with his mistress Siena Rosso, a beautiful and strong-willed opera singer. The relationship appears shallow at first glance, but as the season progresses we as viewers come to understand that there is way more to this relationship than just sex. By the end of the season, we understand that this is not just a dalliance that Anthony is indulging in—it’s a full blown relationship between two people on either side of an irreconcilable socio-economic divide.

The concept of boyfriends/girlfriends did not exist at this point in history and would not exist for another two hundred years, but that is what Anthony Bridgerton and Sienna Rosso were. Its temporary end hit Anthony hard, and its rekindling was just the right high for Anthony to get before he was crushed by the second (and final) breakup at the end of the season. This is not Anthony being a rake. This is a serious, long term relationship progressing and then falling apart.

When season two commences, we see Anthony on a warpath to find himself a bride and fulfill his duty as Viscount. His time away from Sienna hasn’t done much for his neuroticism—he’s somehow managed to become even worse as he prepares for the new season. He overworks himself half to death, makes his peace with the end of his relationship with Sienna, and stresses…and stresses…and stresses.

In between all of this, we see that he’s found an outlet for his stress—he’s a regular at London’s brothels. He is seen dropping coins onto nightstands and shuffling quietly out of dark rooms half dressed before that fateful morning ride that introduced him to the woman who would become his Viscountess. He’s working on autopilot, a car crash waiting to happen. His family’s inability to distinguish any specific difference in his behavior now with his behavior in the first season shows us that this isn’t particularly new—it’s just who Anthony is.

Is Anthony Bridgerton a rake by these standards? No. 

Having a long-term girlfriend and then going on a rampage of paying for sex does not make one a rake. It simply makes one sexually active, which we had already known. So by this definition, Anthony is definitely a slut, but I doubt there’s a soul on the internet who hasn’t called him that. And while we can definitely refer to Anthony as a lover of ladies, if we’re going to call him a seducer, we need to be more aware of which type of seducer we ought to call him. A rake—capital or lowercase r aside—just won’t cut it.

The crux of Anthony’s entire love story in season two hinges on his abject fucking refusal to be vulnerable with literally anyone. He lacks the patience and the skill to pretend to be devotedly in love with anyone. How he manages to fool Edwina into thinking he cares about her is a mystery that could rival the Da Vinci Code. (Hint: she’s a teenager, which is why she was fooled.) Throughout the entire series we see him displaying impatience, hot-headedness, stubbornness, and authoritarian tendencies. When Edwina dares to describe him as even-tempered, Daphne laughs at even the implication that Anthony can pretend to be calm. It takes rare moments of genuine affection for Anthony to be truly vulnerable with people.

This isn’t a critique of his character (which is one of the most wonderfully complex ones of the entire show) but simply an analysis of who he is and why the concept of a rake—a person who’s entire seduction modus operandi relies upon false devotion and admiration, ardent love and relentless pursuit, vulnerability and garnering sympathy—simply doesn’t fit Anthony’s character at all.

So if he’s not a rake, then what type of seducer is he?

That Anthony is in fact seductive is beyond dispute. He makes it plain to Kate that he knows what he’s doing.

So with that in mind, I posit that he is not the Rake, but instead The Charismatic. 

The Charismatic, as defined by Robert Greene, is described as thus: 

Charismatic seducers are inherently exciting because they come across as self sufficient and self driven. They represent the kind of personality that most people want to see themselves as. They might be great orators, public figures, visionaries or leaders. People might look towards them to alleviate their sufferings or to save them. They use their powerful personalities and their way with words to sway emotions and to stir up change. Some charismatic figures are able to seduce by creating contradictions within their personalities e.g. cruelty and kindness, power and vulnerability.

Further reading provides additional clarification:

Confidence, purpose, contentment, sexuality—when someone has an intense aura on the outside but stays rather detached, we can’t help but be smitten.

Sound familiar?

Anthony’s brooding intensity and confidence, strong sense of duty and responsibility all make him into a natural leader. He’s been wearing the mantle of family patriarch long enough now that he’s quite a natural at it. It’s not easy to make a guy like him feel awkward in his skin. He’s driven, he’s focused, and like him or not, he’s in charge. This effect is powerful enough to win over people even when he isn’t trying to seduce them. He terrifies the ever-loving fuck out of his baby brother’s Latin teacher, and it’s hinted that he commands the respect of plenty of other people within his polished and glittering social circle, too. 

The Bridgerton family’s power stems from the Viscountcy, a noble title that places them in the fourth of five ranks of the peerage. That’s pretty low on the totem pole compared to a lot of people within the ranks of Mayfair’s elite, and yet the Bridgerton family is prolific, well respected, and enormously powerful. Anthony’s been sitting pretty in that seat for a decade. If he was anything less than excellent at his job, then that status would not have held for long after his father’s death. It’s his intense focus on doing the job right and commanding respect even among the most respected of the Ton that makes Anthony so formidable.

General Vandamme once said this of another Charismatic seducer, Napoleon Bonaparte: 

That devil of a man exercises a fascination on me that I cannot explain even to myself, and in such a degree that, though I fear neither God nor devil, when I am in his presence I am ready to tremble like a child, and he could make me go through the eye of a needle to throw myself into the fire.

It is this exact energy in Anthony that draws another fierce seducer into his orbit. Kate is presented as a strong and independent woman who is more or less running the show with regards to her family.  She and Anthony spend the entire season taking each other apart piece by piece, but while special attention is paid to the unraveling of Anthony, we still get to see that it’s that exact intensity and confidence that pulls Kate in.

tl,dr: Anthony Bridgerton is not a Rake, but he oozes Charisma.

I also analyzed Benedict and Colin.

#anthony bridgerton #this show is testing me #bridgerton #Capital R Rake #seduction #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #kanthony

[softtransbf]

Say You'll Share With Me One Love, One Lifetime (Even If We Can't Have It)

My original plan was this scene being maybe 600 words and at most a third of the whole thing, but oops it's almost 1900 and we're getting married. So there will probably be 2 more parts to this story, eventually.

Word Count: 1890

Warnings: light angst in the beginning, brief food and alcohol mention, fade to black implied fuckin'.

Summary: Only having a month before being separated by a thousand years would make any couple do something impulsive and probably crazy, right?

It had been a perfectly routine evening. I got home from work first, so I started dinner, and it was about ten minutes from being ready when Winn walked in, kissed me on the cheek, and poured us each a drink. It was a heavier pour than usual, so I figured it had been a rough day, and he’d tell me about it later. Heavy conversations can wait until after dinner. We chatted about my day and the light parts of his as I finished cooking, and we ate on the couch and continued our way through Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

When the credits ended and the dishes were done, we sat back down on the couch, and he dropped the bomb.

“The Legion? 31st century space heroes? Led by Mon-El? That Legion?” 

Winn nodded. “Yeah, Brainy can’t go back with them because of… something about his relative wiping out all other AIs? He didn’t give a lot of detail. Bottom line, he said I should take his place. They’re leaving when the ship is ready, and that’ll probably take a month.”

“That- that’s incredible! Really, I’m so proud of you and so glad that your genius is being recognized.” I smiled as best I could, and his worry lines deepened.

“I don’t have to go. I can say no.”

I sat up straighter and looked him in the eye. “No, you can’t. You are, in an infinite multiverse, singularly brilliant. And you’ve got a shrine to your two-item space dirt collection. Space, the future, being a hero- this is all of your dreams on a silver plate.”

He took my hands in his, eyes watering. “Not all of them. Not anymore. Yes, those are dreams of mine, but so is a life with you. I love you. I love the life we’ve built together!” He gestured with one hand around our apartment. “I don’t know if I can survive being somewhere you’ve been dead for a thousand years.”

I took a deep breath, fighting back tears of my own. “You can. You know how I know that?”

He rolled his eyes and smiled a little bit, knowing this game very well. “Because you love me?”

I smiled, too, and nodded. “Because I love you. You, Winn Schott, are the love of my life. I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much before we met. I will always love you so much that you’ll be able to feel it across all of space and time.”

“Simon, no,” he said, his smile disappearing. “If I go, you have to move on. Find someone in this millennium, and be happy with them.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Sweetheart, think about it. You’re not the only one here who’s dreamed of space; how could anyone even begin to approach how goddamn hot you being a spacefaring superhero is? You’re literally setting the bar astronomically high.” I paused for a moment, thinking. “Would you call me a hypocrite if I said you should let me go in the same breath I swear I won’t let you go?”

“Not a hypocrite,” he said, shaking his head, “but definitely wasting your time. My heart will be here with you, forever.”

The fervency in his eyes was too much; I had to take my hands out of his and look away. We were both quiet for a while, but before long, I felt Winn sit up straighter. I looked over at him, and I could practically see his brain working as he stared off into the middle distance, not really seeing anything. It was beautiful, as always, so I took the opportunity to simply watch him. How am I supposed to keep going, when he’s gone?

Eventually, he came back to reality, blushing when he realized I’d been watching him. “I have an idea. It’s crazy and probably a terrible one, so I totally get it if you say no. It might even be better if you do.”

I smiled, having heard that countless times. “I’m sure it can’t be that-”

“Marry me.”

My smile fell and my jaw dropped. I searched his face for any indication of hesitancy or a joke, but all I saw was pure sincerity. “What?”

Instead of responding, he got up and walked into the bedroom. A minute or so later, he walked back out with a small black velvet box in his hands. He got down on one knee, eye level with me, since I was now frozen to my spot on the couch. 

“I didn’t think I was going to do this for at least another year, but we don’t have that kind of time. You kinda stole my lines earlier, with the whole not thinking it was possible to love someone this much and love of my life stuff. All that is true for me, too.”

He took a deep breath before continuing. “Simon, you're the love and the light of my life, the home I thought I’d never get. Somehow, at the same time I was learning about aliens and superhero shit, falling in love with you was the most unexpected and wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. 

I want to be your husband. I want the world to know that I am the luckiest man in the entire universe, because you chose me, even after I hurt you like I did. I want to make that up to you with a lifetime of laughter and bickering and love. We can’t have a lifetime, but will you give me a month?” He opened the box, revealing a white gold claddagh ring with a brilliant clear gem for the heart. “It’s moissanite, not diamond, because, you know, ethics. And, uh, I can sign divorce papers before I go, so you can file them if you change your mind later.” 

I’d held it together through the beautiful romantic speech, but the suddenly anxious logistical addendum was too much; the tears fell. Despite everything I’d believed about marriage for my entire life, there was only one answer I could possibly give. “Yes! Yes, of course I’ll marry you!” His smile put the wonders of the world combined to shame. Without a word, he took my left hand and put the ring on, heart pointing towards me. 

Once it was on, he kissed it, and I chuckled. “Pretty sure it’s supposed to go the other way until we’re actually married, my love.”

He shook his head. “If all we get as husbands is a month, I’m not wasting a moment of it with the ring facing the wrong way. And I fully intend to take you to the courthouse first thing in the morning, so it won’t be wrong for long.”

“A proposal to a wedding in…” I checked the time. “Less than 12 hours? People will talk about buns and ovens,” I joked, mock scandalized. 

“Let ‘em talk. Even if I still had an oven for you to have put a bun in, I couldn’t care less. It’s none of their damn business, anyway.”

I nodded. “Fair point. I have three requests, if we’re really going to elope in the morning.”

“Anything.” The words were barely out of my mouth before he responded. “As long as you’ll marry me, anything.”

“Be careful with writing blank checks, my love. You said you wanted the whole world to know, and I’d like to… not keep it a secret, because you can’t keep a secret to save your life, and we do need 2 witnesses. But not make a big deal about it. With how recently Alex and Maggie broke off their engagement, I don’t want her to feel like we’re rubbing it in her face or anything. She’s already in enough pain- I really don’t want to make it worse.”

Not letting go of my hand, he moved back to his spot on the couch next to me. The longer his silence went on, the more I realized how devastated I would be if he changed his mind. After what felt like an eternity but was probably only about ten seconds, he nodded. “Okay, as long as you still wear the ring. Even to game night. What else you got?”

I could breathe again, and I smiled. “I’d never dream of taking it off. My second request is much lighter- a moratorium on talking about you leaving. Until the day of, we pretend like we will get our lifetime together. With, of course, the ability to call time-out or quits altogether on it. The usual safewords. And on the subject of rings, I want to get you one before the wedding. Have you put any thought into what you might want?”

He shook his head. “Yes on the pretending we’re not on a clock, but I haven’t thought about a ring I’d like. We can absolutely go ring shopping, though. Oh, also, who do you want to ask to be our witnesses?”

I thought for a moment. “I think we have to ask Kara, since it was her karaoke shenanigans that got us together in the first place.”

“Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t even consider her not being there, but if we do that, she’ll insist on making it a big deal, maybe even try to talk us out of it. How about James?”

“Yeah, you're right about Kara.” I sighed. “Definitely James, no question about it. As for the second, hear me out- Mon-El. He’s been a good friend to you, and he’ll understand better than anyone why we’re doing this. Even if he does think it’s a bad idea and tries to talk us out of it, I’m not above admitting that I’d enjoy guilting him just a bit about being the reason you’re leaving in the first place. He owes me.”

“As much as I don’t want to encourage your pettiness, you’re right,” he chuckled, and I smiled a Cheshire smile.

“Fantastic. You wanna ask him, and I’ll ask James?”

He nodded. “Sounds great.” He finally let go of my hand, taking out his phone to text Mon-El, and I did the same.

Text sent, I put my phone down and took a closer look at the ring. “The ring really is absolutely perfect. I have to ask, though, when did you buy it? You said you’d planned on doing this later and had presumably planned or maybe even rehearsed lines for me to have stolen.”

[9:36 pm] TO James Olsen: Hey, can you meet Winn and me at the courthouse tomorrow, around 10? We need a favor. Don’t tell Kara, please.

“Would you laugh if I said the day you asked me to move in?” he asked, blushing and rubbing the back of his neck.

I blinked once, twice, processing what he said. “No, but I will question your sanity. We’d been together less than a year, including the months when you were still at CatCo! I was questioning if we were moving too fast, and you were buying a ring?”’

He shrugged. “When you know, you know.”

Moved beyond words, pulled him forward by the front of his shirt and poured everything I was feeling but couldn’t say into a kiss. His phone chimed and mine lit up, but neither of us would be aware of anything except each other for the rest of the night.

#winnposting #my writing

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 28

Simon Said/New Earth

Before I start watching......I.........fucked up the schedule. The schedule is wrong. And I didn't REALIZE UNTIL NOW. I skipped a whole SEASON ONE SUPERNATURAL EPISODE so now every day is off by one. I'll fix it, but I'm not gonna be HAPPY about it (I've also bought a whole new physical planner and hopefully I don't fuck one up as well...)

Also, why is it only Sundays that I have actual plans that I have two episodes to watch? That's why this is gonna be real early.

"Simon Said"

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: I cannot shake the "The Great Game" vibes I'm getting from this opening scene, though obviously the threat is not the C4 strapped to your chest but what seems to be mind control? So...don't know that I could fight off whatever mind control is happening there, but as I've never been in SPECIFICALLY a gun store nor am I ever in the part of a store where guns are sold? It depends on who I am in this situation. Random extra? Yeah. The guy GETTING mind controlled? No.

Strangely heartwarming conversation. Dean going on about how it's not a good idea to show up to a place where there will potentially be a bunch of other hunters and announcing that Sam's a supernatural freak. Sam, worried: So I'm a freak now? Dean: You've always been a freak

Ash you, like, LIVE AT A BAR WHY ARE YOU EASILY BRIBED WITH A PBR OF ALL THINGS

They're really pushing this Dean and Jo thing, huh. Yeah, even Sam is...unimpressed by it. But like you can't just randomly put on "Can't Fight This Feeling" and go talk to the guy you halfheartedly resist flirting with when he shows up.

Yeah, you WOULD love this guy's "barbarian queen on a polar bear" van, Dean

Ohhhhhhhhh, I don't like what this implies about what happened with the girl whose apartment Andy just left...watching Dean so willingly give up the Impala like it was nothing. Like we knew this guy wasn't doing GOOD THINGS with his powers (you know, from the first five minutes) but this hammers it home.

Good on you, Sam. See? Using your powers to hopefully prevent a murder-suicide. WELL...the murder part anyway.

Oooooooooo, Sam's immune to the mind controllllllll. Hell yeah.

*DJ Khaled voice* Another one. (There's another psychic person in this town??)

Maybe he wants to...oh. Ok, I'm warming up to Andy whether I should or not. He's a nerd and a dork who "has everything he needs" who lives in a very 70s styled van, reads philosophy books, smokes all the weed...but is still potentially a skeeze. That's unconfirmed.

IT'S AN HONEST TO GOD EVIL TWIN SITUATION?? AMAZING. This guy's WAY WAY worse. "I take all my ladies here and they love it. Well, I do, so they do, too" Fuck this guy for real. I fuckin' hate this dude so much.

He's so used to getting his way at this point. KNOCK HIM THE FUCK OUT AT LEAST. Sam, get up and knock this guy out. (The twin looks like he's actually Elijah Wood's evil twin.)

Ok, that was a good fake out. Had me really worried for Dean before Andy shot his twin.

Oh...oh, Andy. He's not a skeeze. He really liked this girl and he didn't ever use his mind control on her and wanted to keep her safe...and now he's possibly gonna lose her because of something he can't help being. It's totally understandable that she's completely freaked out, but it still SUCKS.

"Been On My Mind...": The writers are pushing a Dean/Jo agenda that I'm not fully buying. I'll rent because it's kinda funny, but it's absolutely no Destiel. Oh. Nothing has actually happened between them, they're just circling each other right now.

"New Earth"

I just love that Ten takes Rose to New Earth as their very first trip together. Ten makes it up to Rose what Nine did on what she's calling their first date. TenRose is like...tooth achingly sweet. Now I remember why "Rose Tyler, I..." is so fucking devastating.

I remembered the cat people nurses...but I forgot that Cassandra was in this episode too...and probably the Face of Boe??

Yeah, I'd be grabbing some sort of weapon if Cassandra's Igor figure took it upon himself to separate me from the Doctor

"I look a bit different, but it's me" Like you're not talking to Jack Harkness (but he doesn't know that). But him dying of old age and wanting to see the Doctor one last time :'(

OMG SHE CALLED HIM GOLLUM. THAT'S EVEN MORE ACCURATE. Honestly. Every time he calls her "my lady" I hear "my precious"

The scenes where Cassandra is possessing Rose (or however the show wants to describe it) must have been so fun for Billie to film.

I wonder when we came up with "Never trust a nun. Never trust a nurse. And never trust a cat." And what would have transpired to make us come up with THAT phrase...or was it just, like, everything happening in this hospital with the nurse cat nuns.

Was worried for a second that the Doctor hadn't fully recognized the change in Rose's behavior. Like...but he was just biding his time til he was absolutely certain because Rose would CARE that these people were being exploited.

I love when Doctor Who plays up its campiness. "WHO NEEDS ARMS WHEN WE'VE GOT CLAWS" *SHNK* gorgeous. magnificent.

God. That's horrifying. Not that the lab grown humans being used to suck up every disease that comes into the hospital were freed, but that there SO. MANY.

OH....we're gonna get the scene where Cassandra possesses the Doctor soon. One of the most scenes ever. An absolute delight. David's acting is...it's so good..."he's slim. And a little bit foxy. You thought so too. I've been inside your head. You've been looking. You LIKE it." What a string of lines they made him say!!

(Poor Chip...he didn't deserve that)

Oh. The Doctor's excitement when he cures all the people that the nurses had lab grown. I'm...it's so wholesome.

DON'T MAKE ME FEEL SAD ABOUT HER. AND YET. Omg...is Chipssandra going to be the last person to call her beautiful? They're gonna make me cry over the bitchy trampoline.

#hellsite nostalgia tour 2023 #i forgot how much i loved new earth #also adding to the format #do we like having the episode titles above the read more? I like it #which I recognize is the most important bit #since I’m doing this project…for…me?

[macgyvertape]

wwdits s4 thoughts (spoilers)

I didn’t start till October so I knew some stuff through my dash, very glad I saw the post where the interviewers said Guillermo and Nador wouldn’t get together to set my expectations after OFMD

The djinn is a really fun character

Glad The Guide is more of a main character the series needed another female character.

Marhwa is one of the most sympathetic characters in the show, peak she deserves better than this dude

I saw that Guillermo embezzles from the club in a LOT of posts because it was cute to see him take care of his parents. But it’s still heavily implied from this early ep.

The season is really clear in setting up each character's motivation and character arc.

Nadja’s arc has been my favorite. Lmao to the way she said  “kill them all” to solve her workers unionizing.

Lazlo’s struggles of fatherhood where he’s a bad dad in different ways has been my least favorite. But then again I don’t want kids so I’m not interested in parenting subplots.

Guillermo FaceTiming someone twice is notable, only people he pays this much attention to outside of the vamps and family is a potential victim. But this is a very different vibe

Nador vs Guillermo fight is even more tense and charged than last season. Even after rewatching I'm confused at what parts of the fight they were staging for escape versus actually into beating the other

Nadja union busting through narcotic bribery, Nadja’s always been a fuck you got mine "girlboss", especially when her power is being challenged. Nice that it didn't work, workers unite!

The parent interview was just too much cringe comedy for me

Love Guillermo’s jewel tone jacket outfit. Hope there's a post that points out all the designer items

Wedding episode had an ad that I noted down since I was watching ad-free. Clever trick it was for the go flip yourself tv show in universe.

Everyone looks so nice in their wedding outfits. Costuming in this show has always been great and its easy to overlook it

I was trying to pin why Guillermo seems so different this season, and I really think it is that he found confidence and is less desperate . Other characters are respecting him more too.

Nandor made peak cursed wish with “like the same things I like” I was confused until the end of the season if he immediately wasted 2/3 wishes instead of fixing that wish since he obviously seemed so uncomfortable with it

“Because I’m gay” holy shit! Such an emotional moment, yeah the family always knew but still it’s such an impactful moment. The show has had a range of queer characters but it's often more played for laughs while this is more heartfelt. I'm old enough it's also a brief moment of "wow things have come so far"

Lmao at the cliche home renovation episode, I love when a tv show adopts the visual style of another genre of show (like Leverage "The office job"). I deeply enjoy home renovation shows, good or bad they're only reality tv I enjoy. I think it's my favorite episode in the show, and I genuinely wasn't expecting Simon the Devious.

Maybe because I am watching these all at once that the heavy parody parts of each episode stick out. Guillermo being the overworked friend planning the wedding is a romcom classing. The Baron doing the cliche makeover montage.

Wow so Freddie gave the business card as if he's trying to buy valuable antiques from someone he thinks is senile, and Nador is fine cheating and being a home wrecker to meet up. hmm

Wait Marhwa ends that episode overwritten and basically dead in body and mind?! Freddie is a cheater! I feel really bad for Guillermo, ESH but him

Holy shit sunrise and sunset the song from Fiddler. As a theater nerd I know this ep is going to be sad also wow Matt berry can sing

Colin feeding on anger makes sense, I though he was being annoying at times but chalked that up to finding all kids annoying, but you can farm a lot of anger as an annoying kid.

Classic that Nadja got so proud her arrogance led to the club's downfall. Very short-sighted she didn't take the money out before the arson for insurance fraud.

Colin back to himself with no memory nothing changed. Hmm did the experience of being a parent change Lazlo?

Guillermo spent a year of his life devoted to things that as he put it didnt change. The reasons he gave in first episode for not walking out didn't amount to anything in the end

GUILLERMO BUYING HIS WAY INTO VAMPRIISM FUCK YEAH. he's really changed since season 1. The chorus ending is pretty great.

I’d rate it 2nd best season behind last season, major points lost because I liked Marhwa and I’m sad what happens to her. I'm not judging Nandor's actions this season as morally "worse" than the others, but being shitty to your SO is more relatable and personal.

Wow for the first time I’m interested in fanfic for this show starting with “different choices canon divergence” au and “picks up right where season ended” since next season will prob start with a timeskip.

#what we do in the shadows #wwdits #wwdits spoilers #mac watches tv

[ilalos]

Worth it (Anthony Bridgerton x reader) Part 2/2

Summary: Your arranged marriage to Anthony seems fine, until it doesn’t.

Warnings: marriage, implied sex, angst-ish, fluff, pregnancy, crying, if you notice anything else let me know :)

Word count: 2.5k

The season passed in a blur with countless flowers and conversations that filled you with expectations about your marriage to the Viscount, you truly felt like love was around the corner for both of you and it was a matter of time for that corner to be turned. He was everything you had expected and more, you could tell he was wary about letting you in but didn’t want to push him so you let him open himself to you at his own pace. The had been some stolen looks, kisses on your knuckles that had lasted a little longer than they should and hand a bit lower than what was acceptable when you danced. To say the courting had been successful was the understatement of the season in your opinion, by the time the wedding day came you were counting down the minutes before you finally became Lady (y/n) Bridgeton.

Your wedding ceremony was short and the carriage ride to Anthony’s bachelor townhouse was even shorter. The wedding night had come with a surprisingly low amount of events, your virginity had been taken the sweetest of ways, with many kisses and whispered promises of pleasure that came true. By the end of the day, you were as happy as can be, laying on your husband's chest, feeling his heartbeat slowing down and smelling the sweet vanilla scent of his skin.

When you woke up the next morning the bed was empty and he had already left to work in his study back in the main Bridgerton home. He didn’t return until late in the evening and you were waiting for him so you could have dinner together.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he said while taking a sip of his wine.

“It’s nothing, I like that we are finally spending some time together”

Anthony just nodded and continued eating in silence.

“How was your day?” You pushed for conversation, you had been alone all day and could really use some conversation with someone different than your maid, who was terrified of speaking freely.

“It was busy” he answered simply “how was your day?” He asked after seeing the face you made at his short answer.

“It was also very busy, I reorganized the books in the library, had the kitchen staff do an inventory on the pantry, and send the maids to the market to get some flowers for the table tops” you narrated proudly, hoping he might appreciate the way you ran the home.

“Good to see you’re settling in, darling” his small praise made you smile a little.

“You don’t mind that I changed some things?” You asked somewhat concerned by his silence.

“It is your home, you’re free to do whatever you please with it,” he said dismissively.

“It’s our home, Anthony, I want to make it perfect for you too”

After dinner, he walked you to the bedroom and after a couple of heated kisses you fell in his arms once again, the pleasure he gave you was addictive. Despite his cold attitude towards you in other aspects of your life, it was in the bedroom where you felt hopeful for a future where you both might learn to truly love each other, and then he would sneak out every morning making you feel like a worthless whore.

And so your days continued like this, every night was filled with passion and every day was lonely. You couldn’t even go to the Bridgerton home, you had been taught that a married lady was not to go out without her husband, so your heart slowly filled with sadness as you spent day after day alone in the townhouse. Anthony was none the wiser because he simply thought you enjoyed being by yourself, so it never occurred to him to invite you to his family’s home or anywhere else.

A month into your marriage you found out you were with child. You were extremely happy and Anthony had shown himself to be happy as well, but then that night he didn’t come home for dinner and didn’t make an appearance in your bedroom. He was more and more distant until four months had passed and he disappeared for two full weeks before you saw him again.

It was on the day of your birthday, and he had only gone to your room because the butler told him you had been very sick that day. When he entered the room he found you seating on the bed hugging your knees close to your chest, your eyes puffy from crying and silent tears still streaming down your face. You weren’t upset he had forgotten your birthday, you had never celebrated it so it didn’t matter he didn’t remember it.

“What happened? Is everything well? Is the baby-“

“Your child is quite well, Lord Bridgerton” you interrupted in the coldest tone he had ever heard from you “to what do I owe this joyous visit?”

“I apologize for my absence, I have been very busy” he answered measly.

“I figured out that much, husband” the word was said with venom.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked offended, you had never treated him so coldly.

“I am upset with myself” you started with a pained chuckle “I don’t need you to try and comfort me because you did nothing wrong, that is the reason for my anger” a small sob escaped your lips “I was taught to be a good wife, that my only job was to give my husband heirs and to keep the house running and I understood that and I didn’t fight it because at least I would have children to fill my life with love and a husband who at the very least would acknowledge me and my efforts”

“I-“

“I don’t want you to feel like you should change or apologize, this is not your fault, I feel miserable because I filled my heart with hopes and dreams of love but that’s just not how life is, at least not mine” you harshly wiped your eyes before finishing “I understand my place now, I’m nothing but a child-bearer for you and that’s fine because you didn’t even pick me in the first place” you got up from bed and opened the door for him “please leave me alone, I will be fine”

“I can’t just leave you here alone, have you even eaten today? In your condition-“

“Your child is perfectly well, my lord” your tone had turned icy once again “please go, I am tired and want to rest”

Unable to do anything else, Anthony left the room and went back to his family’s home. His mother had insisted for him to take you there that night, but seeing your state he didn’t even bother asking if you wanted to go. When he got there he was surprised to see the dining room fully decorated, his whole family dressed in their best clothes, even Daphne and Simon had paid a visit.

“Where is (y/n)?” Asked Violet.

“She’s not feeling very well” answered Anthony looking at the table that was filled with all his wife’s favorite food “What is happening? Why are you all here dressed as if you are attending a ball?”

“Anthony, please for the love of God almighty, tell me you didn’t forget your wife’s birthday!” Violet couldn’t keep his composure, how could Anthony be so clueless.

“I-I’ve been so busy lately supervising the building of the new house, it didn’t even occur to me that it was her birthday” Anthony felt terrible, as he should.

“It’s bad enough she doesn’t like us, son” Violet sighed, seating on the table “And now she thinks we don’t care for her birthday”

“Where did you get that idea, mother?” Daphne couldn’t help but ask “When she writes to us she says wonderful things about our family”

“Then why hasn’t she visited since the wedding?” This time it was Colin asking “Mother sent a tea invitation shortly after they got married and she never showed up, sent a poor letter apologizing but did not explain why she didn’t show”

“I might have an explanation for that” Simon spoke up “My aunt was a terribly strict mother, taught her that a wife was nothing more than a child-bearer and had no liberties like men do, for example: going out unaccompanied”

“Has she been out of the house since you married, brother?” asked Eloise, turning to face Anthony who was still frozen at the doorstep.

“I don’t believe so” he entered the room and sat defeated “I just thought she enjoyed being at home by herself, god!” he rubbed his hands down his face.

“I can’t believe it, the poor thing” lamented Violet.

“She hasn’t left the house in almost half a year” concluded Benedict.

“And here we were, refusing to visit thinking she had rejected mother,” said Colin.

“I would like to clarify, I never agreed with losing contact with her over one missed invitation” added Eloise, gaining the glares of everyone present.

“It matters not what we thought nor does it matter what has happened in the past” began Violet “right now I want you to go pick her up and bring her here, she deserves to be celebrated, especially after everything we put her through,” she told her eldest child, pushing him to stand and go to the door.

Anthony mounted the carriage and urged the coachman to hurry home and as soon as he got there he ran up the stairs to your room and burst through the door, jolting you awake.

“I am so sorry, love,” ha said kneeling on your bedside “I never knew you didn’t leave the house because you thought you couldn’t, you are free to do as you please, darling” he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles “I didn’t mean to make you feel trapped in your own home, and I am sorry if you felt like I abandoned you” he caressed your face and wiped some tears that had fallen without your notice.

“You did abandon us,” you said, trying to pull your hand from his grasp with your other hand protecting your belly.

“I was merely supervising the building of our new home, I was hoping I could surprise you before the baby arrived” he explained, now seating by your side “I can’t possibly ask my family to leave their home but I know how much you love that house, and so I chose to build a similar one not too far from here”

“You are building me a house?” You asked incredulously, hardly anything could justify his absence but this was in fact a reasonable explanation.

“Yes, love” he once again caressed your face “A home for our family” at that your eyes filled with tears, this time from happiness.

You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck, crying with your face buried in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and shushing you softly to calm down your cries. You spent a while holding each other until he suddenly broke you two apart, remembering his family that was still waiting for you both to show up.

“My beautiful wife, I must take you out of the comforts of your bed” he began, apologetic “My family is expecting you in their home to celebrate your birthday with a lavish dinner”

“Heavens! You should’ve started with that” you ran to your door and called out for your maid “I don’t think I have a dress for such occasion, non that would fit me now, that’s certain”

You opened your trunk and began taking out your chemise and all other items you had to wear under your dress in such cold weather. You took off your nightgown not caring Anthony was there, he had seen it all before, after you had put on your chemise your maid ran in and help you put on the rest of your garments and helped you squeeze your small baby bump in the dress you had worn for one of the first balls you attended when Anthony was courting you. She put your hair in a quick updo and even managed to coerce Anthony into putting on your stockings and your shoes while she did your hair. With all that rush and hard work, you managed to be ready in under an hour and still made it to the dinner at a reasonable hour (half past 9 is reasonable, right?).

At the Bridgerton home, you were welcomed with warm embraces and merry wishes on your special day. You all sat around the table and ate the feast that had sadly grown cold. Colin didn’t seem to mind as he devoured everything in sight, prompting Violet to chastise him softly. You, however, ate small bites because the pregnancy had caused your stomach to be upset easily and you didn’t wish to offend anyone by running out of the room to empty your stomach. Anthony watched you eat and held your hand atop the table, smiling as he watched you laugh and converse with his family.

“Is the food not good enough?” Asked Violet seeing your plate almost full.

“It is just perfect, my stomach has just been iffy since the start of the pregnancy” you answered smiling apologetically, Anthony choked on his wine because he realized at that very moment that he had forgotten to tell his family about your condition.

“You’re with child? Those are wonderful news!” Exclaimed Violet with a large smile “When did you found out?”

“Four months ago” you turned to glare at Anthony “I assumed your son had told you”

“How could you conceal such joyous information from your mother?” Violet then noticed her eldest daughter had become quiet, as well as her husband “Did you know, Daphne?”

“I was aware of it, yes” Daphne admitted ashamed “I too assumed Anthony had told you”

“You assumed my eldest son had told me about his wife’s pregnancy and I had decided not to mention any of it in our letters?”

“I-I’m, yes?” Benedict and Colin snorted with laughter hearing their sister’s answer.

Violet only shook her head with a small smile, her children were truly a wonder. Anthony was nervous that you’d get mad at him for not telling them, but one look at your laughing face told him he didn’t need to worry.

Later that evening you both laid in bed after yet another passion-filled encounter, your breathing slow and even making Anthony think you were asleep. He was caressing your naked back with feather-like touches, kissing your sweaty forehead every few minutes.

“I love you” you sighed, kissing his chest “You need not feel the same, I just want you to know how I feel”

He took a shaky breath before answering.

“I also am in love with you, darling” he placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head so you’d look at him “sometimes I’m scared of just how much I love you” he kissed you slow and deep, pouring all his love into the action.

The kiss was unlike any other you had shared before, this one was full of promise and hope. It filled you with love and certainty, you were now sure that no matter how difficult the road to Anthony’s heart had been, even if you didn’t want it at first, it had all been worth it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you like it let me know.

Tag list:

@alaizaaa02

@awesomebooklover17

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #my writing #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton

[itsany62]

SteveTony - Alternate Universe

Here are some Alternate Universe fics that I love. Don't forget to leave kudos and nice comments in every fic!

Food for the Heart, by LagLemon, 14 k >, Cooking, No Powers.

After being introduced to a gourmet food on a budget blog by Pepper (a gift for her elderly, cheapskate mother) Tony starts cooking again. The recipes are good, but the blog owner is even better. Still, Tony isn't so sure Captain America, the guy who runs the blog, can compete with Hot Bagboy, the gorgeous blond who works at the grocery store.

"Free to Good Home" by Captain_Panda, 7 k > words, Alternate Universe - Animals.

"Oliver and Company" AU.

There's a great big world outside the box.

But it's a dog-eat-dog world, and Tony's just one cat. Then a stray dog comes along, looking for a friend.

A Day In Principal Stark's Office, by nannersmelo, 10 k > words, Steve Single Parent, Director Tony.

Tony Stark has his hands full with not only Stark Industries, but also his beloved mother's life project: The Maria Stark Academy, and as he enters his office in order to deal with a ferocious mother whose son was apparently assaulted by one of his brightest students, he was sure this day would culminate in nothing but a heinous headache. Little did he know - he was in for one hell of a surprise.

I Am the Night by gottalovev, 6 k > words, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Vampire Tony Stark, Wizard Steve Rogers.

That's it. Tony is doomed. He rolls on his back, crosses his wings over his belly and closes his eyes. He'll await death here, misunderstood by the world to the bitter end.

C is for Calculus and Compromise, by heydoeydoey, 11 k>, Gifted AU, Post-Divorce, Angts with a Happy Ending.

Steve's just trying to give his prodigy daughter a normal childhood. Enter a meddling school administrator, Tony Stark, and too many lawyers.

tell you my love for you by jelliebean, 22 k > words, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Based on Love Simon.

A guy at Shield High comes out on tumblr, anonymously. Tony thought he was the only gay guy on campus--not out, because of Howard--and sends him an email.

“Hey, Flying. Same here. I’ve got a secret too, and it’s like I’m hiding who I am, every day. From everyone. All the closest people to me. But I just can’t tell them. I’m gay, too. It feels like I’m putting on this mask, this shell of who I think they want me to be. Even though I don’t think my friends would judge me. I don’t know why. I just. I’ve got a secret. –Shell”

The guy seems great--amazing, even, and then Hammer has to step in and ruin it all.

Mergers & Acquisitions by Robin_tCJ, 33 k > words, Angst, sex as currency.

Steve Rogers is the CEO of the Rogers Corporation, which he built from the ground up. When he learns that Hydra International is making a bid for a hostile takeover of Stark Industries, he decides he has to do what he can to stop Hydra from overtaking the market and becoming an unstoppable, unethical conglomerate. Tony Stark asks for something Steve isn’t sure he should give, but he does it anyway – and it completely changes everything. But when Hydra keeps coming, Steve and Tony realize there’s more to this than they’d realized.

Meeting the Monsters by itsallAvengers, 23 k > words, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters.

Tony's at public school with kids his age for the first time in seventeen years, and he is determined that this year is gonna be his year. He's going to make friends. He's going to be popular. People will like him.

Unsurprisngly, none of that actually happens.

He does sort-of-maybe fall in love with a vampire in his class that everyone is terrified of, though. So... there's that.

(I Want You To See) The Darkest Side Of Me by ann2who, 45 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Post-World War II.

In Monte Carlo, Steve meets the wealthy widower Anthony Stark. It’s love at first sight—at least for Steve—and he can’t believe his luck when Tony asks him to live at Stark Mansion, his large estate in Malibu. Never in his life had Steve thought something like this was possible… never had he been this happy. However, soon Steve realizes that Tony is still deeply troubled by the death of his first wife and haunted by the many ghosts she left behind. The longer Steve lives in her shadow, the more he understands that… He can never be what Tony’s wife had once been for him. And Tony might never truly love him.

Gift With Purchase Remix by sabrecmc, 43 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, hooker Steve, Sugar Daddy.

Gift With Purchase Remix wherein Steve actually is a hooker. But for a Really Sympathetic Reason.

The Little Glass Screwdriver by ann2who, 19 k > words, Cinderella AU.

When Prince Steven is forced to find himself a bride, true love gets in the way. As the night of the grand ball unfolds, the prince meets a mysterious knight who might just change his entire life in a way he could have never imagined.

**Cinderella AU**

Covered in Lines by royal_chandler, 3 k > words, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Alternate Universe - College/University, Age Difference.

He can’t lose sight of pale, deft hands that gesture on transitive verbs, an ink-stained thumb edging underneath Tony’s ribcage with an affection that can only be called dangerous.

half-wild and glimmering by deathsweetqueen , 15 k > words, Alternate Universe - Western, Prostitution.

“Give me a drink, Tasha,” Tony sighs as he lands in front of the bar. “I’ve had one hell of a day.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Have you really?” she asks, loftily, sliding a tumbler of whiskey along the well-polished wood.

Tony lets his head hang, the sweat beading on the back of his neck. “You wouldn’t believe what I’ve had to put myself through today,” he sighs, wearily.

“I would not know. You will not let me work the rooms,” Natasha retorts, her voice a little strained, busying her hands in a dirty glass.

“I don’t let you work the rooms ‘cause you’re liable to kill anyone who touches ya the wrong way and we can’t lose that much of our business,” Tony reminds her, wryly amused, sipping at his whiskey. He shakes his head at the burn. “We peddle flesh, darling, not death.”

peers, fears and holiday cheers by jacobby, 24 k > words, Parent Tony Stark.

“He’s only two years older than you,” Tony finally says when the silence becomes too much to bear.

“Dad, Teddy is turning twenty-seven next year.”

“I am not dating your husband—”

“I’m not implying you are. I just want you to be...aware that he’s practically the same age as my husband.”

AKA

Tony Stark's new boyfriend is only two years older than his adult sons. Telling them is one thing, introducing them is another. What Tony doesn't expect is that the past always has a way of catching up to him, of biting him in the ass when he least expects it. Well, at least they're all together for the Holidays. What more can he ask for?

A Higher Form of War by sabrecmc, 292 k > words, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Historical Romance.

Tony is a King with a surprising number of people out to kill him. Steve and the rest of the Avengers are fighting for Pierce's rebellion and end up with Tony as their prisoner. Oops.

you can call me babe for the weekend by complicationstoo, 10 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, actor Tony Stark.

Tony left his small town for Los Angeles after high school, leaving behind everything to pursue his dream. Ten years later, he comes back for the first time and finds that some things are impossible to let go of.

Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be by iam93percentstardust, 72 k > words, Alternate Universe - Theatre.

Famed director Phil Coulson brings Shakespeare’s beloved play, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, to Broadway. This production though comes with a twist: a brief but passionate love affair between the faerie king, Oberon, and his attendant, Puck. In the roles of the two star-crossed lovers, Coulson casts America’s darling Steve Rogers, fresh off his third Academy Award, and Broadway royalty, Tony Stark. Steve quickly finds himself falling for the quick-witted and sarcastic actor but Tony is dating the stage manager. Unwilling to come between the seemingly happy couple, Steve steps back but all isn’t right behind the scenes and Tony may need him when everything falls apart.

and so we rebuild by raeldaza, 26 k > words, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Soulmates, Mutual Pining.

Sometimes, a voice whispers: you will never atone for your mistakes.

Tony believes that, believes it so strongly some days he drowns in it, but he still tries. Tries through Starfleet, tries through inventions, tries through missions. Then, one day, he meets his new Captain, and things change.

and teach this heart (how to beat with light), by starklystar, 40 k >, AU Hospital, Single parent Steve.

Eight years ago, at a funeral with a baby's cries ringing in his ears, Tony Stark decided to turn his life around. He's a genius, billionaire, philanthropist. What's so hard to adding 'doctor' to that list? And after that, it can't be that hard to add 'husband' and 'father' too, right? But the past has a way of haunting even the very best of us, and in any universe, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers have never had an easy love.

Featuring: drama, chaos, Peter's scheming, meddling friends, and doctors learning again that the heart can never be as simple as four chambers and four valves.

Catching Lightning in a Bottle by sabrecmc, 120 k > words, Alternate Universe - Sweet Home Alabama Fusion.

College student Tony meets janitor Steve at MIT and they fall blissfully in love, until Howard happens and things fall apart. One divorce paperwork snafu courtesy of the ever-helpful Jarvis, and ten years later, Tony has to get re-divorced from Steve.

This does not go as he imagines.

Or, the Sweet Home Alabama AU that no one--well, okay, a few of you--asked for.

The Night Shift by weethreequarter , 16 k > words, Alternate Universe - Hospital.

Welcome to the Emergency Department of San Antonio General where Dr. Tony Stark joins the team fresh from his most recent tour in Afghanistan and - much to the consternation of the other staff - strikes up an instant rapport with Nurse Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, new resident Bruce Banner refuses to give up on his patient, and Dr. Sharon Carter learns something from her own patients. Throw in a pissed off hospital administrator, Clint using the coffee pot as a mug again, and a major car crash and you have, well, just another night shift.

Cake It Till You Make It by ChocolateCapCookie, 10 k > words, Kid Fic, Alternate Universe - Bakery.

Steve Rogers and Tony Stark have a lot in common. They're single parents, they own rival bakeries at the center of town... and they both hate each other's guts.

When a mix-up at Peter and Morgan's school has both fathers scrambling to prove they're the better baker, they do the mature, adult thing and compete in a bake-off. Between the mixing and the creaming, the baking and the icing, Steve and Tony find that hate is actually not that far from love.

Looking for Heaven by foxxcub, 31 k > words, Alternate Universe - Regency, Marriage of Convenience.

When young Lord Anthony Stark learns Steven Rogers has enlisted in the army, he thinks he's seen the last of his tiny, headstrong, haughty stable boy. But four years later, Lord Stark gets an unexpected visit from Steve, whose mother has fallen gravely ill and into financial ruin. Even more unexpected, Steve agrees to a shocking proposal: they will marry, giving Steve the necessary funds to save his mother, and Tony the much-needed reprieve from harassing would-be suitors. It is a business arrangement, nothing more. But as time goes on and circumstances arise, Tony begins to learn that keeping his heart away from his husband is easier said than done.

just a guy, standing in front of another guy by theappleppielifestyle, 12 k > words.

“It’s not real,” Tony says, still smiling, jaw twitching with effort. “The fame. It’s - I’m just a guy."

(Or, Notting Hill AU, with a twist.)

Mother of Exiles (A Titanic AU) by BladeoftheNebula, 21 k > words, Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion.

“You’ll never guess what just happened!” Steve said, taking a deep breath to try and calm his breathing. “I met someone. A guy from first class.”

Dublin 1912: Steve Rogers is barely making ends meet, living in the tenement slums of Dublin. But a stroke of good luck gives him and his best friend the chance to change their fortune. Two tickets to America on board the RMS Titanic.

The Devil You Know by shetlandowl, 17 k > words, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Author/Novelist.

Best selling author Tony Stark revives the bodice ripper genre for a modern audience. From frisky gay cowboys to ravenous lesbian pirate queens, he consistently delivers riveting thrillers full of romance, drama, and the filthy, unapologetically kinky sex that has become his trademark specialty.

Tony has everything a man could dream of - horny, adoring fans, and boatloads of money. Or that's what he thought, until Detective Steve Rogers walks into his life and turns it all upside down.

Bears and Mountains and Lumberjacks Oh My! by justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday), 24 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Lumberjack Steve Rogers.

It was supposed to be easy--go meet the reclusive artist and buy some art. And then came the broken down car. And the snowstorm. And the lumberjack with a face like a greek god. So yea, Tony is stuck in a cabin in the woods with a hot lumberjack till the storm clears. Could be worse.

Series: A Furious Vexation by Annie D (scaramouche), 18 k > words, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse.

A Steve/Tony post-apocalypse AU that exists pretty much just for the smut.

That Feline Beat by Tito11, 5 k > words, Alternate Universe - Animals.

Presenting Steve and Tony in the Aristocats!AU

Tony and his three kittens have been kidnapped from their fancy Upper East Side apartment while their owners are away and deposited on the mean streets of Harlem. Unsure of where they are or how to get back home, they'll have to rely on street cat Steve to guide them. Will they get home safely? Will Tony's fear of abandonment cause him to drive away the best tomcat he's ever known? Only time will tell.

do you fondue? by calciseptine, 16 k > words, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting.

Tony has done crazy things in the name of food, but falling in love with Steve Rogers really takes the cake.

a glimpse of heaven's love by parkrstark, 13 k> words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Terminal Illnesses.

The child begins to empty his pockets. He starts to count coins on the counter. Tony huffs a little impatiently as he realizes most of them are pennies.

The cashier actually humors the kid and counts along with him. They reach 3 dollars and 54 cents before he shakes his head sadly. "Sorry, kid. There's not enough here."

The kid sounds close to crying. "I need these paints for my Papa. It's Christmas Eve and these...he doesn't have any. The doctors said he doesn't have long. I want him to have these. In case he meets Jesus tonight, I want him to paint one more time. Please."

Tony takes a step forward, arms still full of toys he's buying just because. He can cover this child's gift for his dying father. Money. Money is what he's good for.

"I'll buy them."

--

Or, the Christmas Shoes AU no one but me asked for.

If you survive first impressions, you're good to go by itsallAvengers, 3 k > words, Parent Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - No Powers.

The first time Peter Parker-Stark sees Steve Rogers, he may or may not be standing in direct path of the man's motorcycle.

His daddy is really not going to be happy about that one.

A Rat-ional Conclusion by BladeoftheNebula, 6 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Veterinarians, Parent Tony Stark.

He had a strong flurry of patients throughout the morning and by the time it rolled around to noon, he was just about worn out.

He walked out into the reception, stretching until he felt a satisfying pop. “Are we done?”

Bucky checked the screen. “Just about. One more before lunch - a rat, singular.”

Steve breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully straight forward then. “Great, let me know when they-”

He was interrupted by the bell over the door and looked up to see a little girl cradling a small animal carrier, being shepherded through the door by easily one of the hottest men he’d ever seen in real life.

Oh wow.

Tidal Pull by sabrecmc, 97 k > words, Octopus Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - Shipwrecked.

After the American Civil War, Union soldier Steve Rogers takes a chance on an opportunity to sail with the Stark Trading Company down in the Caribbean. During a terrible storm, his ship is lost. To his surprise, he survives, and ends up stranded on an island that isn't quite as deserted as he first thinks.

Or, a reverse Little Mermaid tale where Steve has to fall for the fish-man.

Twelve Days by elysianprince, 22 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Ghosts.

In which Tony finds himself in a town that looks like it crawled out of a Hallmark Christmas movie, trying to sell an inn he didn't know he owned, all while dealing with Steve Rogers, the resident ghost who has returned to haunt the inn each December during the twelve days of Christmas for the past seventy years. Tony has only one logical solution that benefits them both: break the curse that binds him - but falling for a man almost a century old wasn't among his plans.

She kissed me by S_Horne, 1 k > words, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting.

“Your mom kissed me.”

Steve blinked awake and lifted his head from his pillow to look over at the silhouette in the doorway. “What?”

“Your mom,” Tony reiterated. “She kissed me.”

“Yeah,” Steve said simply, “she does that.”

#stevetony #stony #fic rec #tony stark #steve rogers #my recs

[joaquinwhorres]

The Fool (Ch. 6) {Fred Weasley x F!OC}

SUMMARY ››››› After getting tangled up with the Weasley Twins during the events of the Quidditch World Cup, Wren Collings’ life takes a turn for the chaotic. It threatens everything she has going for her, but she’s not convinced that’s entirely a bad thing.

PAIRING ››››› Fred Weasley x Female OC

WORD COUNT ››››› 4,589

WARNINGS ››››› There is no depression or mental health issues in this story, but there are mentions of death, violence, abuse, some PTSD, etc. As most of the specific warnings revolve around major plot points or are found throughout most chapters, I’m just going to rate certain chapters on the movie scale. This is chapter PG-13.

A/N ››››› General plea for validation through reblogs and comments.

Series Masterlist | Read on ff.net | Read on AO3

Wren felt sick all morning.

Ever since Fred and George had been escorted off to the Hospital Wing by Lee Jordan, she felt as if her stomach was twisting in on itself. She supposed this was a natural reaction to sending your friends to the Hospital Wing--a theory that was further solidified throughout the day as it seemed like everybody was talking about the failed attempts to enter the Tournament. Fred and George were not the only ones thwarted by the ageline, but their story was by far the most popular throughout the castle. Wren had even heard a group of ghosts gossiping about it, and several portraits had stopped her on her way to the common room to interrogate her about the incident and settle a debate as to whether their beards had gone down to their waist or their ankles.

The Common Room was not much safer in terms of avoiding talk of the Failure. Lee Jordan appeared to be holding court in the corner, recounting the story from his perspective to an enraptured audience, and even up in her room, Wren couldn't seem to get away from the terrible feeling that had made itself right at home in her core. Even her Potions' homework wasn't enough to distract her from the fact that Fred and George still hadn't made their way up to the common room yet, and it was nearing lunch.

Which was why right before noon, Wren found herself hovering outside the Hospital Wing.

It seemed to be busier than normal, which wasn't that much of a surprise, given how many names of unsuccessful entrants Wren'd heard other students throw around. She had to admit though, that she was a bit surprised at how raucous the noise was. Wren edged a bit closer to the open door, one voice rising above the others in an uncanny imitation of an old Scottish woman. "Albus, last year a known murderer and pack of Dementors roamed the school, and the year before that the heir of Slytherin opened the Chamber of Secrets. Perhaps, we could open it up to all students turning 17 this year?"

A slow measured voice responded, "Now, now, Minerva. Dementors and Basilisks are one thing, but a student died over 200 years ago from this Tournament. And even though it's now Ministry sanctioned, and we could potentially make it a tad bit safer, we must remain true to the spirit of the games, and only students who are of age can enter."

"But Albus, a student died--"

Footsteps rounded the corner, and Wren jumped back whirling on the couple who just came down the hallway.

Not a couple.

The bronze haired boy who was smirking as he said something to the girl walking beside him was Simon. He looked up from the blonde, his eyes landing on Wren who was just a step away from entering the Hospital Wing, and surprise quickly overtook his features. Still, he didn't look quite as surprised as Wendy Fairchild did, her cheeks turning a delicate pink.

"Wren?" Simon said, as if he couldn't believe that she was actually there. Then again, she could count the number of times she'd been to the Hospital Wing over the past six years on her fingers, so maybe it wasn't entirely unreasonable for him to be so shocked. Her eyes were drawn once again to Wendy, who suddenly looked very uncomfortable and very trapped. Simon stepped away from the blonde and towards Wren. "Did something happen? Are you alright?"

Her eyes shifted to the Hospital Wing's door, the noise suddenly quelled by the sound of a sharp admonishment. "I had a stomach ache, is all," Wren said, stepping further away from the door.  "Hi Wendy."

"Hi Wren," Wendy greeted, her eyes darting between the couple as the tension between the three thickened. The blonde Ravenclaw licked her lips, her eyes darting for Simon as if he'd provide a way out of the awkward situation but he was focused on Wren, the worry gone from his face, and a cool stoniness taking over in its place. A small sigh escaped Wendy. "Well, I best be going. Thank you again for the help, Simon," she offered a brief strained smile at the couple before hurrying off down the hallway.

Wren looked down at the stones between her and her boyfriend, eyes studying the grooves and dimples.

"I heard about what happened to Fred and George," Simon remarked, and Wren's stomach rolled. Words bubbled up, excuses and explanations and apologies all at the tip of her tongue as she looked up at him, but he continued. "I'm sure you see now why I didn't want you to do it."

Wren flushed and nodded her head, pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. "Simon I--"

"It's ok, Wren," Simon cut her off, stepping forward and folding her into his arms. "I forgive you." He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hand. "At least you realized how foolish it'd be and pulled out."

Wren offered up a shaky smile which dissolved as Simon bent forward and kissed her, before releasing her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Maybe next time, you'll just listen to me."

The sick feeling in her gut was worse, her insides churning in protest even as she kept her lips sealed shut, keeping her confession trapped inside. Simon looked down at her, seeming to note her silence.

He sighed, withdrawing his arm from around her. "You might as well just ask, I know what you're wondering."

Wren's brow furrowed in confusion as she cast him a look. "What I'm wondering?"

"Wren, I'm not stupid. I saw the look you gave me with Wendy, and I see the look you're giving me now. You're easy to read."

Realization dawned on Wren at what he was implying, and she quickly stumbled over her words. "Simon, I--"

"She needed help with her Alchemy work, and that's it. Nothing happened."

"I know--" Wren started again, but Simon cut her off.

"I made one mistake," Simon said. "One. And you and I both know that you're just as responsible for it happening as I am."

Wren looked to the ground, nodding her head. "I know. I…" she trailed off. "You're right. I shouldn't have even wondered. I'm sorry."

Simon sighed, his arm going around her shoulders once more. "I forgive you, I just wish you'd believe me that I love you."

"I do," Wren said, looking up into his face. "I know you love me."

He nodded solemnly. "More than anyone else ever could," he said before pressing his lips to hers and whisking her away to lunch.

Wren spent most of her lunch picking at her food and absentmindedly listening to Alicia's ranting about her parents and their post-Hogwarts desires for her and to Katie's wondering about whether everything Professor Moody did was strictly legal.

If the other girls noticed that Wren hadn't really touched her food or seemed to be preoccupied, they didn't say anything. It's possible a look was shared, but she didn't catch it.

Instead, she sat there distracted until she noticed her dorm mates getting up from the table, and she did the same, leaving behind a half full plate to follow them up to the common room.

There, she lost four games of Exploding Snap in a row, and was in the middle of losing a fifth when Fred and George burst through the portrait hole, announcing their arrival with a chorus of "Heyyyyy".

Wren's head snapped to them, watching as the twins modeled their newly clean-shaven faces, stroking the smooth skin of their chins to a smattering of applause and laughter.

Fred scanned the common room, his eyes locking on hers once he found her. He navigated his way around the couches and chairs to her. "There she is…" Fred said as he approached, and she flinched. Alicia tapped the stack of cards and looked entirely unapologetic as Wren glared at her.

"Cheater."

"Hardly," the other girl returned, twirling her wand between her fingers.

Fred plopped himself next to Wren as George sat next to Alicia, throwing himself into her lap. She shoved him off, and with a dramatic sigh, he switched to laying in Angelina's.

"About time you're back," Angelina said, tugging at George's ear. He winced, swatting her hand away. "How long does it take to fix a couple of beards anyway?"

"Longer when Dumbledore interrogates us for the secrets of our near success," Fred said, catching Wren's startled glance. "Don't worry--we told him we couldn't divulge any information."

"He seemed to understand but mentioned he'd be much obliged if the recipe  should ever end up under his office door," George said with a grin at Wren.

She flushed, shaking her head. "It didn't even work. I mean you two could have ended up--"

"Maybe it didn't work, Fred cut her off. But no one else even made it through the age line. We're the only ones to have crossed it."

"It was a good bit of magic, Wren," George agreed.

"But it just as easily could have landed you in the Hospital Wing for more than a few hours," Wren argued, and the group exchanged looks.

"I thought we'd been over this," George said, sitting himself up. "It was a minor risk, yeah, but we've taken bigger risks with our own testing."

"Besides, I doubt Dumbledore would have put any enchantment on the Goblet that could harm students if the whole point was to keep underage witches and wizards from entering," Angelina reasoned.

Wren wet her lips, turning this over in her mind. She still couldn't help but feel guilty for her failure, but what made her feel even worse was not the fact that she could have hurt Fred and George, but that she was disappointed her potion hadn't succeeded.

"Come on," Fred said, nudging her shoulder with his own. "You've got to admit, it was at least a bit thrilling to give it a go."

The corner of her lips traitorously twitched up. Around her, her friends made sounds of approval, George even reaching forward to shake her leg excitedly.

"He really came to ask you about the potion?" Wren asked, and Fred nodded solemnly.

"Seemed genuinely interested too," George added.

Wren offered a real smile then, and the group seemed to (accurately) take that as an end to the  conversation.

The rest of the afternoon passed happily. George finally ended Alicia's streak in Exploding Snap and Lee came into the Common Room about an hour later and recounted recent would-be entrants' failures for them. Now that Wren wasn't wracked with worry and guilt with Fred and George, she was able to laugh along with the rest of the group, especially over Lee's dramatic impersonation of Milicent Bulstrode breaking down into hysterics over her newfound beard.

By the time it was dinner, the events of the morning felt like they had passed weeks ago, and Wren traipsed down to the Great Hall with the group more than ready for the Halloween feast.

She wasn't, however, ready for the selection of Champions. Her heart stilled for a moment as Cedric's name was pulled from the cup, her eyes skipping over the group of Hufflepuffs shaking his shoulders and cheering, and instead focusing on Nora.

If Wren were in Nora's shoes, she'd be pale. But instead her cousin was alternating between clapping loudly and cupping her hands around her mouth to cheer.

She was only silenced when a fourth name came out of the cup.

In fact, the whole Great Hall went quiet for a beat. And then another one. And then the whispers started, moving through the room like wind rustling through the trees.

"Harry got his name in?" Angelina hissed next to Wren.

"How?" Katie whispered back, her eyes moving to Wren, but Wren was already focused on Harry, whipping his head around with surprise and saying something hushed and quick to his friends. Dumbledore called him up to the front table and her eyes followed his path, a clawing tightness in her chest as she watched him pass behind Fred.

How had he, a fourth year who by all accounts was not the smartest in his year, managed to get across the age line when the combined minds of her, Fred, George, and Lee hadn't managed it?

Her jaw clenched as a hand closed over hers. "Hey," George said, leaning across Angelina to get her attention. "If You-Know-Who wasn't able to kill him as a baby, you won't be able to now, even with that look."

The joke, coupled with Harry's disappearance into the chamber behind the professors' table, drew the small group's attention to Wren.

"I'm not trying to kill him," Wren protested as Dumbledore and other adults disappeared into the back room as well. With the disappearance of those in charge, the hall grew noisy once more, the chatter electric. "I just don't understand how he got in is all."

The look of mild annoyance on Fred's face melted as he took her in. "She's jealous!"

"Am not," Wren huffed.

"Come on, Wren, a win for Harry is a win for Gryffindor," Angelina said, but her smile was a bit tight, and Wren felt a bit embarrassed at being jealous when Angelina, who had legitimately entered, hadn't been chosen.

"And more than that," Fred said, bending his head forward conspiratorially. "It's a reason to party."

By the time Harry Potter, the guest of honor and very reason for the party, arrived at the Gryffindor common room, the party was in full swing. Students had come together to lay out a solid stash of snacks on a few tables, and Fred and George had procured a few cases of Butterbeer in a suspicious amount of time. This of course meant that everyone was almost vibrating with excitement to greet Harry. Indeed, all of Wren's friends left her the moment he came through the portrait hole to bombard him with well wishes and questions.

Wren, for her part, hung back with Alicia, making her way through a bag of crisps while staring warily at Harry. "Reckon he'll tell anyone how he did it?" Wren asked as Alicia took a long sip from her butterbeer.

"Harry?" Alicia asked, her voice a bit raw from the carbonation. "Probably not. He's rather tight-lipped. It'd be easier to get it out of Ron."

Wren nodded, scanning the room for the twins' younger brother. As her gaze skipped from redhead to redhead, none of them belonged to Harry's best friend. "Where is Ron?"

"This is really bothering you, huh," Alicia asked, her expression sympathetic. "I know you wanted it to work, but honestly Wren, it was always a long shot. The twins knew that."

Wren had no intention of trying to get Ron Weasley to tell her how Harry entered, but she would have been lying if she dismissed Alicia's claim outright.

She had known it'd been a long shot too. She always had a healthy dose of skepticism throughout the endeavor.

But she couldn't get rid of the small, irritating feeling of disappointment that scratched at the back of her mind.

She doubted Dumbledore would want her potion recipe now that someone had had an actually successful workaround.

"Why the long face?" Fred asked, walking back up with George. Over their shoulders, Wren could see Lee tying the Gryffindor banner around Harry's shoulders.

The two followed her gaze and Fred snorted. "Still on about that, then?"

"No," Wren said petulantly. The twins exchanged a knowing look, and she scowled, swatting at them. "I'm not!"

Fred's eyes darted over her shoulder, and she whipped around to catch Alicia mid-nod before pretending she was sipping from her drink.

"I'm not!"

Fred and George exchanged another look, although this one seemed to be more of a conversation between two pairs of eyebrows than just a look.

"Alicia, we're stealing Wren," Fred announced, wrapping an arm around Wren's shoulders and guiding her forward before Alicia could even respond to the statement. George trailed after the two of them, the group stopping in a relatively quiet nook of the common room, away from the thick of the party.

"It has recently come to our attention that you, Wren Collings, are a natural born inventor."

Wren quirked an eyebrow, staring dubiously back at Fred. "What?"

"You're upset that you didn't find the solution to the age line and Harry did," George filled in.

"Plus, you greatly enjoyed the plotting involved in making our potion," Fred nodded.

"So we were talking…" George started

"And we think you'd be an excellent addition to the Weasley Wizard Wheezes product development team," Fred finished with a smile.

"The what?"

"Fred and I have always dreamed of opening a joke shop. We've been working on a few products over the summer," George explained.

"Fake wands."

"Tom-tongue toffees."

"Trick quills."

"And we think that your mind and potions and Herbology expertise would help us with our next  venture," Fred said.

"Your next venture?" Wren repeated.

"Puking pastilles," the twins chorused with a nod.

"Puking pastilles." What they were proposing was so ridiculous, Wren wasn't able to come up with a coherent original thought. Instead she was turning the idea over in her mind--product development with the Weasley twins. It was true she'd enjoyed developing the aging potion with them, but that had been a one time thing. A deal. And even then it hadn't worked. Now they wanted her to come up with entirely original recipes for members of the public to eventually consume? She could poison all of London. Or worse, she could--

"You're spiraling," Fred said matter of factly. "I can see it right here," he said, poking at the crease between her eyebrows, and Wren slapped his hand away. He grinned at her. "Come on Wren, this is an exciting new venture. Nothing to get too in your head about at this stage."

"I just don't think I--"

"If this is going to be another self-deprecating statement, I should warn you. You're wasting your breath," George interrupted, holding up a hand.

"We happen to think you are nothing short of a genius, and there isn't anything you can say to convince us otherwise," Fred added.

Wren blinked at them. "I--" they cast her reproachful looks and she switched directions. "Thank you."

Fred smiled. "I'm going to take that as confirmation that you're in."

Wren shook her head, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. It would be easy to tell them no. To stick to the plan of just studying for her classes and spending free moments trying to track down Simon. But she didn't want to.

"Yeah," Wren said with a tentative smile. "I'm in."

While working with Fred and George on the creation of puking pastilles was fun and often led to Wren laughing so hard her sides hurt, it was still, at its core, work . She was fairly certain she had never used her brain so much. Not even for NEWT-level Potions or Transfiguration.

Still, there were far worse uses of her time than being tucked away in the common room or a corner of the library, drawing up plans and theories with Fred and George and sometimes Lee.

"I need a break," Wren announced, placing her book on top of the stack they had pulled.

"Breaks are for the faint of heart," George said automatically, not even bothering to look up from his reading. It had been the line the three used to keep each other on track.

"I fear I'm going into heart failure," Wren answered, dramatically, dropping in her chair. "If I have to read another line about common Italian plants' side effects, I think my heart will finally give out."

"Alright Georgie, I think a break's in order. We don't want poor Wren's heart to explode," Fred said, snapping his book shut.

"So when Wren's going through heart failure, we get a break, but when I'm dying of boredom, you just eulogize me."

"That's about the size of things," Fred nodded, and George grinned, shutting his book and looking over at the two. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he had the chance, a look of curious confusion crossed his face.

"Hullo," he greeted, and Wren turned to see Simon walking towards the group.

"Hi, love," Wren smiled up at Simon. His bronze hair curled above his eyes, and she reached out a hand for him. He shot a quick look at her and then at the Weasley twins, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets. Wren curled her hand back in, resting it on her shoulder as if that was what she intended to do. "What are you doing here?"

"Searching for my girlfriend," Simon offered a small smile. "Have you seen her?

"Simon," Wren laughed lightly as Fred and George exchanged mortified looks at the excuse of a joke.

"Oh! I hardly recognized you. Haven't seen you in ages."

"Ha ha, very funny," Wren smiled and let out an exhale as if he was joking, but he had that look in his eyes that she knew too well. He turned to Fred and George.

"So you're the reason my girlfriend's gone missing."

"What can I say, our presence is a delight." It wasn't the tone of Fred's voice as much as the look of George's face that made her stomach drop.

"Thank you for sharing Wren with us," George stepped in. "Must be hard to let this one go."

"Indeed," he swiveled to Wren. "Speaking of which, have a second?" Simon asked, flashing a seemingly charming smile. Wren looked up at him, and a flash of fear, which she hoped was unnoticeable, crossed her face. She slowly nodded.

"For you? Always," she said, standing up to follow him. Had he heard about George? What did he want? She had heard that tone of voice before, and it never ended well. She followed him a couple of rows over so that it was deserted and nobody would hear them.

"I didn't realize you three were so close," he commented, his voice still friendly, but in the dangerous phase. If Wren thought that her research was going to give her heart failure, she was certain that this conversation might give her a heart attack. It pounded away in her chest, as she racked her brain for an explanation. She had a feeling after Simon's reaction to the aging potion that he wouldn't particularly care for the truth.

"We're not that close," Wren dismissed. "We've just been studying together this year, is all. They're a whiz at Charms, and honestly this NEWT schedule is keeping me so busy--"

"Wren," Simon stopped her. "Don't insult my intelligence."

"What?"

"You're lying. I can see it all over you. What are you really up to with them?"

"What am I really up to?" Wren repeated, her heart beating faster. "Studying. Simon, where is this coming from? Why are you upset?"

"Why am I upset?" Simon asked. "After how you acted when you saw me walking down the hall with Wendy? I should have seen that you were projecting--accusing me of cheating while you're off spending your  afternoon in a dark corner of the library with the Weasley twins!"

"Simon, it's not like that. You've just been busy and I—" Wren started to argue, jerking away and shutting her mouth quickly as Simon shoved a finger in her face.

"Do not turn this into my fault."

"It's nobody's fault. There's nothing wrong here!" Wren began to grow hysterical. "You're reading into things that aren't there."

"So I'm crazy?" He dropped his hand, but moved closer to her, and she took a half step back.

"No, of course not," Wren held her temples "I just--there's no reason to be upset. I would never choose them over you. I-I'll go tell them I have to go. We can go to the courtyard, or wherever you want. "

"Don't even bother. I don't want to be your pity pick. Just go back to them," Simon scoffed, shaking his head. "At this point, I'm used to being left behind. Makes sense you'd do it too."

"Simon, I'll come with you. Just let me get my stuff. Please--" Wren reached forward grabbing his arm, and he snatched it away from her, sending her toppling into a bookshelf. A few books came loose, tumbling to the floor in a messy pile.

"You always do this," Simon's lip curled. "Make a mess of everything. I wonder if your precious twins will put up with half the things I do." Wren watched him leave, trying to blink back the tears forming in her eyes. He was right. She did always make a mess of things. She knew what she should have done--what she should have said. She should have packed up as soon as he came over. She should have told the twins she'd see them in class and told him she had more than a second--she had hours for him. She shouldn't have argued.

Wren wiped away a few tears as she bent down to begin picking up the books and finding their proper places. Footsteps approached the end of the aisle, and her head snapped, hoping Simon had come back.

"Everything ok?" Fred asked, standing at the end of the aisle where Simon had been moments before. Wren quickly glanced back at the book she was shoving into the shelf, as if that would hide her splotchy red face.

"Fine," her voice came out high and not quite as lighthearted as she'd hoped.

"And that's why you've decided to take up a part time job as a librarian?"

She let out a sigh that could maybe possibly be construed as a laugh. "No, I just--um--we stumbled into the books." She hoped that would explain the red face if not for Simon's conspicuous absence.

"Ah," Fred nodded, and she could hear the disbelief in his voice. "And where is the other half then?"

“He…he had to run off. Prefect duties. I told him I'd handle it.”

Fred's eyes rested on her, as she picked up another book and shoved it between two other ones, not able to even concentrate on making sure they were in alphabetical order. She couldn't understand why Fred had taken it upon himself to interrogate her. He was silent even as she picked up another book, as if for once he were carefully choosing his words.

"Must've run off pretty quick. I came as soon as I heard the books."

It was Wren's turn to furrow her brow at him. "Why?"

“What happened here?” George appeared over Fred's shoulder, stopping him from continuing the sentence.

“Simon couldn’t keep his hands off Wren,” Fred said to George. Wren flushed from the choice of words.

George wiggled his eyebrows at Wren. “Kinky.”

She turned redder if possible and Fred’s jaw ticked.

“Need a hand?”

Despite the fact that George asked the question, Wren looked at Fred. “That would be lovely.”

George moved around Fred and picked up the last few books, sliding them onto the shelf.

“Thanks, George,” Wren smiled. He reached over and squeezed her hand. His brow furrowed slightly. Wren looked over his shoulder at Fred who caught her eye before turning and heading back towards their seats. She looked back at George and offered a tight smile, standing up. "Let's go back to take our break."

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