#she could have been honest and still been kind

[aperrywilliams]

That Wasn't Fake (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Request: Can you write a Spencer fic where the reader is kind of quiet and shy when she begins working at the BAU, and Spencer has a crush on her, and then they have a case, and she has to like to seduce the unsub lowkey and everyone kind of like...how is she going to do this shes not very outgoing but when she does shes really good at it, and everyone is surprised and impressed.

Summary:  You're shy and reserved. Spencer has a crush on you, and unbeknown to him, you have a crush on him. Maybe the cat can get out of the bag when you have to step aside of your comfort zone to catch an elusive unsub.

Word Count: 4.2k (no self control here)

Warnings: Words like 'fuck' and 'bitch'. A rant about self-doubt. Typical CM stuff: unsubs, killings, etc.

A/N: Another request I loved! It should have been a little shorter, but I'm having a hard time getting to the point these days. Please keep sending requests!

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Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.

But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.

He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.

From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.

But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.

You were extremely shy and reserved.

In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'

He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.

But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.

You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.

At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.

It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?

If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.

From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.

You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.

'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'

'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'

And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.

And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.

But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.

Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.

In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.

The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.

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A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.

Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.

All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.

Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.

"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.

"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.

"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.

"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.

"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.

You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.

It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.

"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.

"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.

"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.

That's it—the elephant in the room.

Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...

There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.

Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.

"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.

And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.

But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.

"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.

"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.

"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.

"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.

And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.

Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.

When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.

"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.

That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.

You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.

Emily is who stops everyone's rant.

"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."

And this is how the discussion is settled.

Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.

When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.

"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"

You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.

"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."

"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.

You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.

Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.

"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."

Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.

"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.

Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."

If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.

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You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.

Everyone has a role in the plan.

Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.

Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.

When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.

"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.

"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"

Your cheeks redens.

"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.

"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."

You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.

"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."

"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.

One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.

At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.

For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.

Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.

"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.

The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.

As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.

Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.

Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.

Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.

You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.

Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.

At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.

"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.

"Show time," you mumble to yourself.

You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.

That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.

You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.

Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.

"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.

JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.

"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."

Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.

"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."

You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.

Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.

Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.

Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.

Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.

JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.

As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.

"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.

Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.

There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.

"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.

With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.

He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.

"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.

"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.

Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.

The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.

"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.

You get closer to him to speak in his ear.

"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.

Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.

You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.

"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.

You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.

It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.

Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.

When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.

As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.

Everything that happens after is too fast.

The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.

But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.

There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.

You shyly approach him.

"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.

"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.

"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.

Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.

Everything except that kiss.

If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.

A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.

You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.

What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.

"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.

"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.

Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?

"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.

A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.

There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.

"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.

"I know," you say with some hesitation.

"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"

Now, you are the one who smirks at him.

"Evidence, huh?"

"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.

"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.

Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.

This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #aperrywilliams #amanda perry williams

[brodieland]

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Royal Rivalries !! ´ˎ˗

Luke Castellan x Fem!Zeus!Reader Synopsis: you and Luke finally get married to one another Tag(s): royal AU, arranged marriage, allusions to previous nsfw activities(LOL) Word Count: 1264 A/N: sorry this took over 2 weeks, I really don't know why it did😭, actually I do know why I was to busy watching Bridgeton, does it show in my writing be honest😭🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻. anyways this ones a little shorter bc it was bothering me on how long its taken me to update this, but lemme stop yapping!!

╰➤ MASTERLIST pt4

It was the day, the day you'd been... dreading? Waiting for? You didn't know anymore. Currently you were laying in your bed in a silk robe with rollers in your hair, relaxing whilst getting all nice and pretty for your big day. While you were thinking about how your wedding would play out, your door opens and your siblings enter the room.

"Happy wedding day," Jason and Thalia cheered.

"Hey guys," you smiled and sat up.

"How you feeling," Jason asked as he sat at the end of your unreasonably large bed.

"I'm about to be a wife, I don't know its kind of weird."

"Are you saying you're not ready to commit to your wifely duties," Thalia joked, the sub context not lost on you. Suddenly you're regretting telling your dear sister all of your business. Ehh not really she kinda funny with it.

"What constitutes as 'wifely duties?'" Thankfully, Jason was oblivious.

"Oh, you knoww-"

"Enough," you shut your eyes.

"Well, we have a gift for you," Thalia said as Jason handed you a box.

"I bought it by myself and Thalia slapped her name on it."

"I don't think the logistics matter."

"Shall we see this gift," you did the grabby hands and opened the box. It was a polaroid camera.

"To document the honeymoon," your sister beamed.

"Yeah!"

"Guys... I don't think I get a honeymoon," they looked at you dumbfounded.

"What."

"To be fair, us getting married was an apology for slapping Luke, so I don't think I get a, um, prize."

"I think somebody already got part of her wedding night prize anyways," Thalia muttered under her breathe, causing you to smack her shoulder.

"What?"

"Ignore our foolish sister Jason."

"Yes, ignore me and my foolish thoughts."

You and your siblings stayed in your room and hung out for a while before your servants came in to help you finish getting ready. They were ushered outside as you were zipped, plucked, and pampered. You were gorgeous, but moving on..

﹒º. ౨ৎ

The wedding was to be held at your estate, per Zeus' orders most definitely. The ceremony was to start at any moment, and once again you were sat away waiting in a room with your siblings.

"I'm still upset we couldn't throw you a bachelorette party by the way," Thalia complained as she ran her fingers through her basket of rose petals.

"And what would we have even done with fathers eye never leaving our sides?"

"I could accomplish anything with nothing but a dream," the three of you chuckled, then began to turn your heads to the sound of the bells, indicating the start of the ceremony.

"Are you ready," Jason extended his hand.

"Never," you chirped, gladly interlocking arms. "But is my flower girl ready?"

"I was born ready," Thalia smiled as she pushed through the doors, littering your path with rose petals.

"Deep breathes little brother, deep breathes," you whispered, not knowing if you were truly talking to the little brother by your side, or yourself.

One thing you were nervous about is not the actually getting married itself, but who would be outside when you opened the doors. You had little, if not absolutely no say in the matter. You didn't know the people sitting in the crowd, the flowers hung around the room, or even the color scheme the room has taken. Though of course knowing your father, it would be white and gold, very Greek.

You were knocked out of your daydreams by a nudge to your side. "It's time."

You nodded as he opened up the door, introducing the two of your... future. Your life, as dull as the statement may seem, was dulled down to a single moment. The moment you were handed off to another man. One you didn't want to marry, but right now, it didn't seem to bother you as much as it did before. Obviously you weren't going to tell that to Luke, no need to inflate his already large ego.

You finished your walk, and Luke is standing right in front of you, taking your hand from Jason as you hugged him off. The wedding went smoothly, though you mostly zoned out as the priest began his speech, only zoning in into Luke's big brown eyes. Ever since the past week together, the tension has gotten thick and even after the day you were trying on wedding dresses, why it has only gotten worse.

You didn't know you craved the feeling of being skin to skin until that moment. You knew doing such actions before wedlock have just as much ruined you, and you know you should care, but you just wanted more. You wanted cake, and now you had it, and you were most definitely going to eat it, too.

"I, Luke, take you Y/N, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

"I, Y/N, take you Luke, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

"I do." "I do."

"You may now kiss the bride."

The two of you moved together with the speed of magnets, how much you oddly missed the feeling. This kiss was different, more tender, less hurried and hungry than the last. You liked it, very much indeed. The two of you parted, breathless, and turned to the cheering crowd (ignoring Thalia's eyes, her knowing eyes, that this was not in fact, the first kiss between the two of you).

Luke held out his arm, to which you interlocked with, and walked down the aisle together. "Told you I knew what would be your dress," he whispered.

"I'm soo smacking you when we pass through those doors," you gritted out through your smile. As you scanned through the crowd, curious on who was witnessing such a moment, you saw many familiar famous except one, the Aphrodite princess Luke went around floundering about with. It made you chuckled, just a little, that your father seems to have lost her invitation.

Now the two of you were behind closed doors, away from the cheering crowd. Only for a short time of course, for there'll be a party later in the evening. "Wonderful acting, it almost seemed like you liked me."

"Oh shut it," you knocked his chest with your bouquet. "Your teasing isn't very husband material."

"And what, prey tell, would be considered husband material?"

"Hmmm.." you pretended to ponder as you brushed your imaginary beard while looking between Luke's eyes. "I shall give it some thought."

He hummed in response as he softly grabbed your hand from your chin, holding it in his. "You're smiling."

You didn't even realize you were, "So are you."

"Why of course, I've just married the most beautiful woman I've ever set my sights on."

You rolled your eyes with your smile still evident on your face. "Why must you insist on poking fun?"

"What makes you thinking I'm jesting," Luke leaned down, close enough for his nose to touch yours. You didn't bother answering before slowly leaning in again. It was a slow and affectionate kiss as he slide his hands down to your waist, pulling you close. You both pulled away, still standing close to one another.

"Shall we make it to the party?"

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson pjo #percy pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n

[lizardwritess]

you belong with me

pairings: bsf!rafe cameron x kook!fem!reader

summary: rafe just cant see he belongs with you. ( about 1.2k words! )

warnings: cussing. sofia being a bit of a bitch. cringy.

trope: bestfriends to lovers. ;)

a/n: i came up with this idea while listening ❝ you belong with me ❞ by taylor swift. please tell me if theres anyone with this similar post already posted so i can give them credit. if you come along any grammar errors, PLEASE TELL ME. english is not my first language so please be kind. enjoy reading! <3

❝ you’re on the phone with your girlfriend shes upset, shes going on about something that u said. ❞

you sat next to rafe, listening in to him and sofias phonecall. "i didn't fucking call you a bitch sofia, are you trying to break up with me.. gaslight me?" he shouts so sofia on the other side of the phone. "of course you didn’t, why would my best friend lie to me? she saw you and y/n in the country club talking about me." she yells back over the speaker. "maybe she would lie because she's in love with rafe.." you mumble under your breathe. "bye sofia, im sick of this." rafe said, and hung up the phone.

❝ im in my room, its a typical tuesday night. im listening to the kind of music she doesn't like. ❞

you and rafe are sitting in your room. listening to something that rafe had put on. "so.. how is it going with you and sofia?" you ask rafe, who is laying on the edge of your bed. "if im goin' to be honest, i might break up with her. she keeps messin with my head." he tells you while switching the music, something what sofia would hate. this got your attention, since you’ve liked rafe for a long time now. scared to confess to your feelings. "really?" you ask. "yeah, might do it this week or next."

❝ cause, she wears short skirts. i wear t-shirts. she's cheer captain and im on the bleachers. ❞

you were sat on your bed in your oversized t-shirt, you stole from rafe. you have been scrolling for ages on instagram. you saw a post of sofias, her in a short cheer uniform. before you could swipe to the next picture you get a call from rafe, you pick up. "yes, rafe?" you say in a tired voice. "come on my boat tomorrow, me topper and kelce. sofia doesnt want to come, shes still mad at me for some reason. oh and make sure to wear that pink bikini." after that, he hung up.

❝ dreaming 'bout the day you will wake up and find. that what you are looking for has been here the whole time. ❞

so there you were, talking with rafe about the break up with sofia. its been 3 weeks since he broke up with her. and she cant seem to leave you alone. "rafe, i don't know what to do. she won’t leave me alone." you say to him with annoyance in your tone. "ill ask topper or kelce to fake date me or something." you tell him with a groan. rafe jaw clenches. "or just fake date, me." he mutters under his breath, loud enough for you to hear. "what was that?" you say a bit flustered. "nothing.." he tells you. but you don't believe it.

❝ walk in the streets with you and your worn out jeans. i can't help thinking this is how it ought to be. laughing on a park bench, thinking to myself "hey, isn't this easyyy?" ❞

you walked beside rafe, shopping for some new jeans. with all that money you think rafe ever buys jeans? well if you do then you are wrong. he fell with his motorcycle a couple days ago, and hes still wearing the jeans. they're all worn out but he wont buy new ones, so you forced him to shop with you. "what about these?" you show him a pair of khaki shorts from ralph lauren. "yeah, i think they well do." he says to u with a small smile. "alright." you say and walk over too check out. a

fter the shopping trip, you find yourself on a park bench sitting besides rafe, eating ice cream. "uhm y/n, you got some ice cream there." he pointed at your face. "here?" you ask while wiping it with ur thumb. "no, just there. wait." he swipes his thumb over your upper lip, where the ice cream is. and licks it off his thumb. you eyes widen, and a blush creeps up on your cheeks.

❝ and you've got a smile that can light up this whole town, i haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down. you say you're fine, I know you better than that hey, what you doing with a girl like that? ❞

since rafe and sofia broke up, he hasnt been the same. hes been a bit colder, and doesnt go out as much. he only does when you force him. and how you missed that smile of his, and how his dimples come out when he does.

you sit in the living room of tanneyhill, rafe close next to you. knees touching. you lay your head on his shoulder. "are you okay?" you ask rafe with a concerned tone. "yeah, im fine." he says with a cold tone. "what did you see in sofia anyway, you deserve better then her.." this got his attention, were you implying that you were better? only if you knew that rafe has liked you for ages, thats the main reason he broke up with sofia. but he would never tell you that. "like, who?" he asks in a teasing tone. you blush a bit, but still force yourself to look at him. "like me rafe, ive liked you for ages, and i cant keep seeing you with other girls. you couldnt see it, but sofia treated you like shit. but i wasnt going to tell you that." you ramble, embarrassed by yourself. "i have to go." you leap off the couch and sprint to the door, into your car. and you drive away, leaving rafe confused.

❝ if you could see that I'm the one who understands you. been here all along, so why can't you see? you belong with me. ❞

you’ve been ignoring rafe ever since your confession, scared of what he would say when he would see you. it's all working out until one day at the beach, you were sitting on your towel. with your best friend bianca next to you. looking at your group of friends in the water. everything is going perfectly, you havent seen rafe here yet. until you feel a tap on your shoulder, you turn around to see nobody else then the person you didnt want to see. rafe.

you stand up, looking at your feet, a bit embarrassed. he grabs ur chin, forcing you to look at him. when you do, you see him looking down at you with his perfect blue eyes. you look down at his lips for a second, and before you can look up you feel his lips on yours. he pulls away. "have you ever thought just maybe? you belong with me." you tell him. "im not sure what to say, but id like for you to be my girlfriend." he says. "uhm, if you'd want to." he says with laugh. "i'd like that." you say with a lopsided smile.

#@lizardwrites ✧.* #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fluff #rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron soft #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x female!mc #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey x reader

[redbatchedcumbermayned]

"I didn’t even know that there was the possibility of a romance option when voicing Heinrix" - Interviewing Chris Tester part 2

We're continuing our interview with Chris Tester, the voice of Heinrix van Calox in Owlcat's CRPG Rogue Trader. In this part we speak about insights into Heinrix's character, how the process of recording voice lines for a video game works, if Chris would romance Heinrix in game, and interacting with his fans.

Part 1 of the interview

I will publish this interview in three parts over the next week in text form and with the accompanying audio file (the audio quality is not spectacular but tumblr limits uploads to 10MB). If you quote or reshare, please quote me as the original source.

F: So, you already talked a bit about Heinrix as a character. What drew you to the character or what hidden depth did you find in the character?

CT: Well, I hope I found some depth to the character. That contrast between principles or values that you seem to be holding onto and lots of unprocessed trauma going on underneath. Sure, that seems interesting, that seems like a really interesting thing to find. Because you can understand, therefore, the appeal of an ideology, which gives you the answers and it tells you what to do. Essentially, it gives you a role, authority, it gives you status, you completely understand the appeal of that. Just like I find voice-over incredibly appealing and exciting: it gives me structure and authority and the illusion that I know what I'm talking about and what I'm doing. 

And then there's the flip side: you could make him heretical in some way, shape or form. And you know, I love, obviously, the fact that he belongs to part of that world which I'm sort of familiar with. Where a lot of the more interesting characters are the ones that have disavowed this God Emperor kind of like status in one way or the other, they tend to have a little bit more going on. They're not two-dimensional villains, not all of them, not all of the time anyway. Whereas on the one hand he's not going full chaos, there was just an interesting tension there to explore. Also, it kind of reminded me a little bit of the Eisenhorn series, which again, it's an Inquisitor that through his pursuit of different things starts to question and use the powers of the warp for his own purposes. A very different character, but still, there are those parallels that I really liked, that fallibility, that vulnerability to a degree, but I wouldn't say too much because I didn't really know how vulnerable or how much of a journey he was going to have in the early stages. I didn't know that until we were recording, I'll be honest. 

And I didn’t even know that there was the possibility of a romance option, until we were like: Oh, these are romancing lines. And I was like, you what now? So, sorry, I appear to be saying some quite forward things, from his point of view anyway, that's slightly taken me aback. They were like: oh yeah, you're romanceable, you can have a romance. I was like, oh, okay, right. I'll just think back to the five hours or so of recording that we've done up to this point and pray that I've made the right choices. So that was a bit of a crazy ride, but thanks to Olga, the writer of my character, she gave really astute directions. She wasn't in all of the sessions, but the majority, especially when there were big plot beats to explain to me what the hell was going on, however, roughly. She was great. And also the technicians at 3B. I was working with a lot of different members of the group technicians slash directors as well. And they were great in terms of giving me not exactly the bare minimum details, but the bare minimum details that I needed in order to be able to make choices quickly, but strongly and relevant to the game. So yeah, it was quite a trip.

F: Thank you. Since you have been trained as a stage actor do you bring a certain physicality to voice acting? If you embody Heinrix, do you puff your chest? Are you rigid?

CT: Definitely. I think there's the reason why rather than having a small booth, I record in a room is, that I can explore those dynamics as much as possible. And the fact that I was able to record standing and very upright and taking that space was vitally important. Obviously, there's the action stuff that really helps when you're actually making fighting noises. That's one thing. But I think in terms of real subtle differences to be able to, as well as mic proximity when he's speaking under his breath and that kind of thing, that's obviously incredibly vital, but even the subtle things of being able to have that big open physicality because he is so often so imperious because he thinks he's absolutely right. That was a vital aspect to explore and just being able to be upright and expressive in that made such a huge difference. 

And also when, without wanting to give too much away, he's in more constricted circumstances, shall we say, trying to do that just purely through the voice means that it all becomes about the sound that you're making as opposed to the truth of the character's journey without wanting to be, again, too much of a cliche, but focusing on that rather than am I making the right gurgling noise?

F: Were you offered any other character to audition for Owlcat? Or if you could, which other character would you like to voice?

CT: I couldn't say any of the other characters. I do play a couple of NPCs randomly. I think before even I had Heinrix. There's some cockney London geezer in there that is immediately disposable. That was me. That was my kind of guaranteed role. I was like, great, fantastic, because I did the audition for Heinrix and then there was quite a few months before it was actually kind of confirmed. I thought the role had gone to somebody else. As with many of these things, you just don't hear back. If you don't hear back, you just assume it's dead and then suddenly it'll come back up or it won't or you'll see another voice actor posting on Instagram going “amazing session” and you slightly die inside and then you move on. 

But in terms of the other characters, I mean, I've met, at least digitally online, the vast majority of the principal companion cast and they're all lovely and amazing and I associate them with their performances. For better or worse, Heinrix is very much my kind of casting and I loved it. Not because he's pretty in a particularly posh kind of way, but that helps. Sure, I'll go with that kind of slightly emotionally constipated. I'm very well cast, very well done, but I think so is everybody else. Throughout the entire game, it's a bit of a who's who, they might not be all household names, but in terms of for myself, the actors that I know in some big parts and some really small parts, the actors that I know in the UK and in the U.S. voice-over scene, so much talent, so that it was just an honour to be included in that really.

F: So now I have to ask you a question from our discord server. Would you romance Heinrix if you were playing a female Rogue Trader? 

CT: I think that would be a bit weird. No, I'll just watch videos of other people romancing him slash me. Is that more or less weird? I mean, I'm 42 years old. I've spent far too much time playing with myself already. So, let's just draw a line under that, but other people are welcome to. That's absolutely fine. My only thing, without wanting to overstate it too much, is that I was very surprised that there was anything around any character that I've been related to but as with so many of the other companions as well, that's a testament to the writing. Credit to the whole Owlcat team in that respect.

F: Would you like to continue working with Owlcat in the future in another capacity?

CT: Oh, God. Yeah. They've not made me sign an NDA, so I can say, not name a thing, but there's DLC for one of their other titles, which I'm going to be in, and that's in a completely different world. There's that thing of once you've had one really positive experience with the developer and the type of games that they create. The ones that are very story focused, that's the type of games that I'm passionate about. I was brought up on these things like the Mass Effect Trilogy. You know, that absolutely iconic kind of stuff, and so to be a part of someone else's experience to facilitate that kind of longer storytelling stuff is exactly what I would be after. They've got a great process, amazing writers and I also think that the games themselves look fantastic. So yeah, I'm a fan of that.

F: So your fan base has certainly expanded since the release of the game. Do you mind having a female fan base now? Have you noticed that there is a bit of a shift because Warhammer 40k for the totally uninitiated looks like a male hobby and unfortunately some part of the male fans are very aggressive against female fans.

CT: Are absolutely ridiculous. Idiots, essentially. Because my relationship to the whole Warhammer 40k thing is like, I played it when I was really young, and then you put away your childish things. I'm saying that in inverted commas, that's kind of ironic or whatever, and then didn't really get back into it until someone gave me a book and I realised that the lore was actually quite good, quite interesting, and then actually really good and really interesting, and I therefore have done some novels for them and a couple of video games as well. 

But to your question, do I mind? No, of course I don't mind. I'm very happily married and well adjusted, so I definitely don't mind as long as it's all respectful, if that makes sense. Surprise, surprise, female fans seem to conduct themselves with that level of respect or if there is a server which is going into crazy, crazy character scenarios and that kind of stuff, no one's sending me a link to that. And even if it is, it's the character, it's not me, and so that's all quite healthy and good. And I think I'm definitely not in a position where I should be censoring any of that kind of thing at all. I think it's all positive and very, very healthy and everybody that I've interacted with has been incredibly respectful. So, I think that's great. 

And I think being able to portray these characters that offer that level of connection is great. We're in a post Baldur's Gate world, I suppose. Not that there weren't other games that did this, but on that scale and everything. I think the value that the games can offer in that. Rogue Trader is hugely valuable and I definitely wouldn't want to censure any of that at all.

F: Yeah, it was nice. I reconnected a lot with people who have this fandom experience again that I had in the Eddie Redmayne fandom more than 10 years ago when it was small, when you have a rather small group of fans and then a very nice person that you're a fan of, and you can interact with.

CT: So people have contacted me via Cameo, for example. And, you know, they've had a certain particular playthrough and then they say, well, I would like you to voice this letter from Heinrix or whatever.

F: That was me.

CT: There have been more than just you is what I'm saying, but sorry, not to say that I'm a whore and I'll just do anything, but you're not the only person who has come to me with that kind of thing. And that's great. That's a pleasure, because it's continuing to tell the story on a wider scale. But also the fact that you can personalise and make it your own. And that's the brilliant thing. 

That's part of the whole appeal of a video game, as opposed to it being a theatre piece or a film or something else is that it was very much your experience, your playthrough. You can have multiple versions of the thing that you kind of like one but you can really structure your own narrative. And that's a fascinating thing. You get to iterate on it yourself. You know, if one stage of that is also being able to call upon the voice actor to facilitate that, I think that's a cool thing, you know, as long as it doesn't get too weird or too whatever, but you know, whatever two consenting adults want to exchange money for or time, great, fine. I think that's less weird than getting an AI to do it personally. I think that level of storytelling is a great thing.

#chris tester #heinrix van calox #rogue trader #warhammer 40k #rogue tradercrpg #owlcat games

[alexthetrashyracoon]

i desperately need a tf141 beach day episode.

What comes next? A firework episode? A sick episode? The manly males of the masculine franchise Call of Duty becoming members of a 2006 Shojo Anime?

You got it.

CW// Bad attempts at humor, don’t take anything serious, the big boys deserve a break and so do you. Drink water, stay hydrated, eat your favorite snack and pat your pets like I do all the time. Plus, whatever happened in Canon universe, stays in Canon Universe, this is a happy family.

And I hope this was what you meant, just plain old TF141. Not TF141 + Reader. Now I’m having a crisis, not wanting to disappoint :(

Wordcount: 905 Words

A Day at the Beach means a Day away from Base

“That’s it, boys. You need a break.”

If anything Kate was as thick headed and stubborn as a mule, there wasn’t much that could move her from a position she took.

“No, Kate. What we need is finding Makarov and hanging this fucker from the ceiling. He almost killed Soap. I’m not letting this maniac walk around…” Price started, hands still firmly planted on the table where various files about Makarov and his associates were scattered around, before getting cut off by a sharp glance coming from Kate.

Sometimes he wanted to strangle the woman with bare hands.

“It’s a bit like Mom and Dad fighting.” Gaz whispered between Soap and Ghost. “Just missing the bloody popcorn.” He got elbowed by Ghost for that, Gaz knew he deserved it.

“Vacation. Now. MacTavish almost, almost died. This should be enough to give you a reason to start with fresh eyes, which you can’t if you’re as tense as you bunch are right now. Just a few days. A week at max, I’ll keep the operation going, we’ve got enough eyes and ears on the ground and the air… we’ll find Makarov but not if you can’t see the woods for the trees.“

A week later Price sat by the back porch of a small bungalow at the beachside of the Netherlands. It wasn’t like this American movie beaches but damn, it was nice to stretch out his legs, sip his, to be honest very sucky, tea and listen to the annoying screams of the seagulls over their heads.

“Kate was…” Ghost started but got cut off by Prices’ hand in his face.

“Don’t say it.”

“Kate was right.” Ghost snorted and stepped onto the fresh grass, it had rained the night prior and Ghost was barefoot.

A moment later Soap and Gaz sprint out of the bungalow, both dressed in swim shorts, Soap with a water gun in his hands and Gaz carrying a big floaty, both of them looking proud as peacocks. “You two stay where you are. I won’t let any of you madmen out of my sight after last time.” Price reminded them, making them stop in their tracks.

An hour they still sit by the bungalow, this time huddled under the tarp as heavy rain fell down, again. “We could have been swimming in the damn ocean for at least an hour by now!” Soap complained while gripping his mug of coffee. Not even a moment later there is lightning cutting through the sky.

“You would be grilled if you got hit by lightning while swimming in the ocean, Johnny.” Ghost reminded him while watching the rain fall.

For the next three days it was a constant battle between simple rain and heavy storms outside the bungalow.

“Wasn’t this vacation supposed to relax us?” Gaz asked from his spot on the couch, some stupid cartoon running as a background noise. “I am everything but relaxed!”

They had been scooped up for most of the vacation now. It wasn’t any different to when they were out of deployment, just that here they aren’t in the danger of getting shot at. One plus point.

“Blame Laswell.” Price called from the bathroom. “If she hadn’t make us go on a damn vacation we could be back at home, hunting down Makarov and…”

“Sun’s out, clouds are gone. Move your damn asses mates, we gonna drown in the open sea.” Ghost called and pushed the sliding doors open. Within seconds they all had changed.

This was probably the last chance they got to actually relax at the sea, and even if the window for that kind of good weather was a small one, they would use even the smallest chance.

So an hour later Ghost lays on a towel, Price sitting next to him, nursing a bottle of Heineken while keeping an eye on Gaz and Soap who have a water fight with a group of other tourists. And they were pathetically losing right now.

“Sometimes I wonder how they grew up and why they are still alive?” Price snorted between two sips of beer.

“Not everyone can be grumpy assholes like us two when they grow up.” Ghost joked and propped himself up on his elbows, watching Soap getting dunked by Gaz, who in return gets hit with a shot from a water gun.

They clank their bottles against each other while watching Soap and Gaz race through the water, diving under water for a moment or two until the sun started to settle slowly at the horizon and the two Sergeant crawled out of the water and hiding under their towels at the spot on the beach.

“It’s fucking peaceful.” Gaz said after a moment of drying himself and removing algae from his hair, throwing it away and leaned back on his hands.

The sky turned orange, pink and yellow as the sun set, slowly disappearing behind the line of water.

“That’s what Kate had been talking about when she threw us onto this vacation.” Price said as he handed out fresh bottles of beer.

This night they returned real late to their bungalow, enjoying the cloud free sky full of stars over their heads.

A few weeks later a single picture frame decorated Prices office, showing Price, Ghost, Soap and Gaz, all grinning into the cheap camera they had brought for their vacation. A bunch of great memories were made in those few days.

Please don’t hesitate to send in more requests <:

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon riley #john price #john mactavish #kyle garrick #ghost mw2 #captain price #captain john price #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #cod mw soap #gaz mw2 #kyle gaz garrick

[sleepytwilight]

An actual date

Pairing: Lilith x Sirius (I'm not good with romance)

"you good man? You've been pretty moody this entire morning." Pollux noticed Sirius change in demeanor.

"You noticed? Hah.. nothing particularly special—"

"I heard from Vega, you got rejected when you asked Lilith on a date. He was mocking you."

"..ouch." Sirius sighed. "I'm not in the mood, don't let others see my like this. I'll just know they'll make fun of me."

"Well I'm trying to help you." Said Pollux as he grabbed Sirius arm. "Come on, I set a playdate for you with Lilith."

"What? Why would she accepted—"

"Alright listen here you smarty-pants. She misunderstood your intention, she thought you were talking about dates, the fruit. Since she just learn that term of date and dates but the thing is she can't tell between them... And she don't like dates like me so-" Pollux faked a cough.

"Ah." A bulb lighten up as Sirius understands what's going on. "Oh... ... Well...."

"Yeah yeah I know. You guys need to communicate better I swear to God..." Sighed Pollux.

A little while later, Sirius is wearing his casual outfit. Pollux gave him a basket full of food for the picnic and a fresh bouquet of white lilies.

He saw Lilith waiting patiently at a picnic blanket.

'Pollux really prepared everything...-' Sirius is impressed by Pollux managed to do everything in such short time.

Lilith wears a yellow ruffle and white shorts. He never seen her wear that kind of clothing, to be honest he always seen her wearing the uniform or her only clothes that she have.

"Summoner." Sirius greet her with a smile. "For you, my lady." He handed Lilith the bouquet.

"Lilies..!" Lilith happily took it and smiles. "How did you know this is my favorite?"

"That... I noticed your scent match with lilies." Sirius quickly thought a lie, he can't just tell her that it was Pollux who chose it.

"You noticed?" She chuckles. "Thank you! I use that kind of perfume that use lilies."

"You mean I use a lily-scented perfume?" Sirius corrected Lilith. "But good job, you improved a lot at your accent." Sirius faked a cough. "May I?"

"Oh- ah right, you may take a seat." Lilith invited him to sit down next to her.

The silent was louder than Sirius thought it would be. Sirius is supposed to good at this but he feels nervous around her.

A minute had passed, they still haven't talk about anything-

"So-"

"So.."

Both stop when they synced.

"You go first." Sirius offers.

"Ahaha... Uhm... Sorry for rejecting you yesterday. I thought you were talking about the fruit."

"Oh, it's not a big deal. Everyone made mistake." Sirius laughed, he is not fine actually. Last night, he thought he made a horrible mistake that he could not sleep. The fact he wears concealer to hide his dark circles. "Anyway I brought lunch."

Sirius checked the basket, there are bottle of wine, two glasses, sandwiches and pancakes...

'yep, definitely Pollux and Arcturus who made this.' Sirius can recognized Arcturus homemade sandwich signature. He just hope Lilith won't notice a thing.

"Oh! Did you asked Arcturus and Pollux for help?" Asked Lilith as she look over the basket.

Sirius lost his chance to impress her again- Ahem..

"Not at all! They're the one who planned all of this. I just follows the flow." He said.

"Oh... So you didn't want this date?"

"No no, that's not what I mean. What I mean is that I was planning to take you on a expensive restaurant but they insisted I should take you out on a picnic! So I agreed because I realized you maybe like.. nature more?"

"Oh!" Lilith nodded in understanding. "Indeed you're correct! I don't enjoy being served in expensive restaurant, it overwhelm me a lot."

"I am always correct haha..!" Sirius is thankful that Lilith rejected him yesterday because that expensive restaurant was his idea in first place. "I thought since you're a princess, you'll like being treated like a princess but I just thought maybe you prefered something else."

"I mean you could've ask me but you worked so hard and even noticed the smallest thing about me, I'm happy." She smiles. "And you even brought my favorite wine!"

"Oh, of course. Since I only got my eye on you." Behind his smiles, he is in fact feels guilty for not knowing anything that Lilith likes or dislikes, he's going to give Pollux tips for this later.

Lilith chuckles, "I'll pour the wine, you can help by taking out the food." Said Lilith as she took the two glasses and the wine.

"Wait, Summoner. We have magic, why don't we just use it?" Sirius snapped his finger as the bottle of wine float and pour it into the two glasses by it self. "Impressive, right?"

"Very!" She beamed. "Magic is truly fascinating."

Sirius chuckles at her reaction, he couldn't get enough everytime she is impressed by something simple.

He took out a sandwich, try to feed her.

"Summoner, open your mouth."

"Oh-!" Lilith took a bite without hesitation, just like he expected, she will never hesitate when it come food. "Delicious! Feed me more, please!"

"Gladly." Sirius wipe the bread crumb from her lips with his fingers. He know has realized how soft is her lips is. "Right, Summoner... ... Uh—"

"You know, Phera also feed me like this and he called me good girl. At least he didn't call me good dog anymore but it's pretty weird. I'm pretty sure I am a woman now." Said Lilith. "Since Spica taught me the different because girl and woman in term-"

"That's enough Summoner, I understand...-" Sirius cracked a smile. "So you say you went to a date with Alpheratz hmm?"

"A date? Oh no, he just took me in a room and feed me cookies." Smiles Lilith, she in fact did not realized it was a date.

"... Well, my lady. I'll have a talk with Alpheratz, I'm pretty sure that bastard is stupid for calling you a good girl..."

"Shouldn't he call me good woman then?" Asked Lilith. "Should I ask Spica—"

"No, no. Don't ask Spica." Replied Sirius. "Just everytime Alpheratz try to invite you to somewhere, can you reject it? Nothing serious of course but don't you think you might waste him time since he's a very busy sorcerer..."

"Oh... If you say so then alright." She nodded.

The date went successful, they both had a good time. Sirius managed to get what he want, same with Lilith.

Pollux and Arcturus celebrated as they were watching them just to make sure everything went well.

#arcana twilight #arcana twilight sirius #arcana twilight mc #arcana twilight arcturus #arcana twilight alpheratz #arcana twilight pollux #arcana twilight vega #arcana twilight spica #arcana twilight summoner

[queenlucythevaliant]

From “The Literary First-Aid Box” by Marina Boroditskaya

Cordelia, you fool! Would it have been

that hard to yield to the old man?

To say to him, ‘I too, O darling Daddy,

love you more than life.’ Piece of cake!

But you wanted him to work it out on his own —

who was the best of his daughters. Proud fool!

And now he’s dead, you too, everyone’s dead. 

And Gloucester! Oh the bloody horror —

his eye-sockets — the scene of the blinding —

fingers leafing quickly through the pages

as if through plates of red-hot iron...

Here, read it now. I’ll turn away. You weren’t there

in that Act, were you? Go on, read it,

look what you’ve done, you stupid little fool!

Alright, alright, don’t cry, but next time

make sure to be more stubborn, and resist the author:

Viola, Rosalind, Catherine,

they managed — why wouldn’t you? 

Like a puppy, pull him by the leg of his pants

with your teeth into a comedy! The laws 

of that genre will lead us out into light... Here

wipe your nose and give me back the hanky.

I still have to wash and iron and return it

to a certain careless blonde Venetian

in the next volume. I’m sorry I told you off. 

Best regards to your father. Remember: like a puppy!

#thinking about where 'insensitivity' falls on the spectrum of human failings and was reminded of this poem #I wrote a paper for the Shakespeare class i took arguing that insensitivity is the crux of the tragedy in Lear #and then like a year later i stumbled upon this poem in a Russian poetry anthology #Marina Boroditskaya was a translator and critic before she was a poet and I really think it shows #anyway insensitivity: #which i would here define as 'failing to love others the way they need to be loved' #not failing to love them at all #or even loving them wrong #but not understanding what they need from you well enough to love them effectively #i wouldn't call it a sin #but it is certainly a function of the human condition #Cordelia loved her dad so so much #but she didn't understand him enough to know that he was an old man who just needed to hear his daughters tell him that they loved him #so she hurt him #she could have been honest and still been kind #but Cordelia didn't understand that the situation called for kindness #and so tragedy ensues #on my birthday my roommate turned down sharing a leftover cupcake with me because it isn't healthy to eat sweets late at night #and I'm pretty sure it was a cultural thing. didn't mean it didn't kinda sting #she didn't understand #and i'm insensitive towards others plenty #because I just don't understand what they need from me #i hurt the people i love most by not realizing that what they need is a listener not a fixer #or by not anticipating that a certain piece of news will upset them #idk i'm probably overexplaining obvious stuff here #but i find insensitivity sad more than anything #nine times out of ten there's no malice in it #most times it's an abundance of love #that just doesn't understand #literature makes us more human

[izloveshorses]

it’s so beautiful to me that what triggers anya’s memory of her past isn’t some big national secret or something inherently tied to the politics of her family or even her social class, it’s just a simple sensory detail of sitting in a carriage on a hot day and catching sight of a boy running after them

#anastasia broadway #anastasia musical #anastasia #dimya #i mean i get that this is the whole point of iacot alksdfj #but like #it's just a small thing?? and that feels so much more honest?? #idk #also like #i know she has Been Through It but the narrative is so gentle to her #like this is just such a kind and gentle way to be reintroduced to who you used to be you know?? #even though the song ends on a sad note it's still a very safe and comforting environment #a boy talking about a hot summer day and it turns out you were there too #and then we can get into the fact that the way he tells stories is exactly what she needed to unlock her memory #bc he uses sensory memories and specific details in the same way we remember childhood #like we don't think about the Overall Things going on at the time but we remember the way the food smelled or the texture of the clothes etc #and that's a much more interesting and Real story to me than anything else they could have done #letting this girl who has survived and endured so much have a moment to just. be. and letting her think about ribbons and a boy #which is why when ppl try to make her a figure either sympathizing with or against the revolution it doesn't work for me #bc it's not a show about revolution it's a show about a girl remembering the way her nanna smells when she hugs her #and in this context. that matters more #idk it's a story for the girls!!!!! #for the girls who don't remember everything but they remember their grandma's perfume and the way the carpet felt under her feet!!

[anthromimicry]

jandy nelson, i'll give you the sun | jean anouilh tr, by lewis galantière | @soulinkpoetry | trista mateer, the dogs i have kissed | the bible

#NO SLEEP OF THE INNOCENT. NOT FOR YOU: character study. #the concept of having a complicated relationship with one's sibling. #because ryuuji was the second born and thus the responsibility of taking care of him was given to misao most of the time she found herself- #being jealous of him sometimes. and misao felt very guilty because of this but she just wanted to be a kid for a moment. so sometimes she- #would imagine that she was ryu instead of herself and their roles were reversed because misao would just get so overwhelmed with things- #that this was the only way she could cope with it at times. which is sad in every sense of the word but misao knew that it wasn't ryu's- #fault at all that thing's were this way. it wasn't anyone's fault really but it was so much easier to place the blame on him subconsciously #sometimes because the alternative was blaming herself for not being strong enough to be both a caretaker and a child at the same time. #and that was perhaps even harder for her to think about because misao has always strived to be perfect. and i mean this in everything- #she does. she wants to be the 'perfect psychotherapist' the 'perfect lover' the 'perfect friend' and it is a LOT of pressure to be honest- #to be putting on yourself especially when you are not fully equipped to open yourself up to people about how you are struggling because- #you've dealt with things on your own all your life. but yeah. misao might've felt resentment towards ryuuji even though it was misplaced- #though she also felt a great deal of platonic love towards him and even if the whole world were against him then she'd still be on his side #but misao has been out of contact with him for the longest time and doesn't even know if he is alive anymore. and she is kind of scared- #to inquire someone to find out for her like a private investigator or something. because i think misao would not be able to take both her- #mom and her half-brother dying because at the end of the day ryuuji is her last remaining family member. and he understood her- #in ways that even she couldn't understand herself.

[apathyfairy]

.

#tonight or tomorrow morning actually is the 4 year anniversary of my dog dying and like surprise surprise lol im still not over it like. #i honest to god dont think i ever will. i honestly dont know how people move on and get other pets and just. keep on living like i #understand it like for some people it's part of the healing process but i just could never do it. like i just cant even fathom #i dont know that's not the point. the point is im having such a hard time because everytime i do anything tonight i keep thinking #4 years ago i still had my dog or 4 years ago in 5 hours i didnt know id be going to the vet at 1am and going home without my dog at 5am #and i just keep reliving it no matter how hard i try to not. and on one hand i want it hurt like i want to remember it just to punish myself #i just i just cant move on like it's just. i went 24 years of my life without ever experiencing death and then 4 years ago today my dog dies #in the most tragic possible way ever and then 11 months later my other dog who i had for 17 years since i was 8 dies and yeah still #not over that one either because i never let myself process that or truly grieve her because i had to shut that up real tight #or i would have lost it for real. and i have the most fucked up miserable tragic dreams about her so many nights a week #because she was old and had been u know. like old dogs do they just decline and that was impossibly hard to watch but at least i kind of #knew it was coming u know but like with my other dog. there was just absolutely no warning it was so sudden and it just ripped me apart and #i honest to god will never be okay again and then 6 months after all that i find out my ex died and only because after 6 years i finally #Finally decide to have the guts to talk to him again and apologize and explain and try to be friends and then nope he's dead #then in between all those deaths a super close family friend died and my grandpa my dad's dad died and like it's just #i had never even experienced death before and then all of a sudden i was engulfed in it and i just dont know how to come back from it. #but tonight is just. painful. like i havent even said his name out loud since it happened. i cant talk about him at all just writing this i #want to cry like it just fucking hurts forever. and it should i guess. #and i feel so stupid because so many times i wonder if my cat even remembers them and i wonder if she misses them too and idk #that makes me feel stupid and emotional and im just a wreck but i should be.

[arolesbianism]

Shakes the bars of my cage I need to draw soooo bad I need to draw I need to draw let me draw I have to draw I need to draw I must draw (<- has been too sick to be on electronics much and doesn't like doing traditional art)

#rat rambles #Im starting to feel better tho Im betting within a day or two Ill have made a full recovery #but I just have so many things I wanna draw all the sudden and its killing me #its because I've been thinking abt ocs again and that gives me a lot more options lol #in particular I've been thinking abt marci and toon more again recently #its just the two of them flirting in their mutual workplace environment with toon being dead serious and marci doing it ironically #the main thing is that marci was rly under the impression that toon like. hated her and was taunting her since they're friends with loonie #who long story short is marci's ex childhood best friend who she fell out with after the death of loonie's mom #the two are not on good terms in the slightest and marci knows very well that loonie would want her dead if she had been more honest #so as toon starts to like get more casual and like genuine with marci as the two spend more time together marci warms up somewhat but still #doesn't rly see toon as a friendly figure until they take her out to a museum and marci kind of snaps a bit and asks toon to stop beating #around the bush and is caught off guard when toon seems genuinely kind of hurt and meekly explains that they were just trying to help her #because she had seemed rly stressed and sad all the time and they thought that their lil dates had been helping her relax a bit #that confrontation left marci initially feeling confused but after the initial shock she was mostly left with a sense of dread and guilt #partially because she had just snapped at someone who she had grown to care abt for no reason and partially because she now felt that she #was hiding stuff from toon that would cause them to change their mind on her immediately if they knew #aka that she and loonie are divorced and that she thinks its mom sucked absolute ass (which she did) #oh and also that she used to have a crush on the guy that killed its mom who was also his mom which is also the reason she hates said mom #said mom treated him (aka midas) like shit and tried to get him killed several times #so when all hell broke loose marci at the end ended up mourning midas much more than his mom who everyone else was mourning #including loonie since it actually had a very positive relationship with its mom and a very distant relationship from its siblings #now marci never admitted all of this to anyone but she did act on those feelings to eventually lash out at loonie causing a huge fight #basically she yelled at it for being pushy and clingy and forcing her into a job she didnt want and expecting her to solve all its problems #the two dont necessarily hate eachother but they definitely heavily resent eachother #they still often long for eachothers companionship but not nearly enough for either to wanna make ammends #so toon quite liking both of them causes some internal conflict for the both of them #loonie is fully aware that toon has a big ol crush on marci but doesnt stop them from being friends with her even if it makes it sad #and marci rly wishes that toon wasnt friends with loonie but feels guilty for feeling that way #its a complicated situation and one that rly isn't helped by the fact that one of the three has the dead god queen mom #loonie could get away with a Lot and everyone knows it

[applejarjar]

realizing I missed my window to have a very important and soul bearing conversation with my boss

#now that she's moved to a shared office and I'm stationed in a shared office my opportunities to have serious conversations are limited #I knew I should've had this talk sooner when she still had her own office and we could have a face to face discussion #I've just been avoiding it because I really hoped these issues could be resolved if I addressed them in a softer manner #but my attempts are just not getting results so I'm at my last ditch effort to express my concerns and get some help #I didn't go through all that goddamn management training just to forego the concepts and never apply the teachings #I'm tired of tiptoeing around the subject because I'm worried my boss won't hear me out or understand #it's just not my style to do this workplace politeness bs #she's said multiple times that we can be honest with her and it won't hurt her feelings #and I'm going to do just that #because god I'm getting burnt out and frustrated #I feel like there's some sort of fundamental misunderstanding I'm having which is not being resolved as things are now #I can't keep asking the same questions different ways and hoping for a different result each time #I just need to directly address what I think the problem is and hope I can get some actual help or feedback #I think my boss will be willing to listen I just don't know what I'll do if this still gets me nowhere #gonna have to figure out when I'd even be able to hold this kind of conversation #I'd like to do it today if possible while I'm really pondering everything and feel like I've got my thoughts in order #but this damn shared office makes that so difficult cause I ain't sayin all this to the world #at least not the whole work world #I'm sure they see I'm struggling but it's still something that is like to keep sort of to myself #especially because I'm acutely aware that my ramblings are very close to that of a madman #but it's just how I think and feel about these matters #sigh #work is hard

[kedreeva]

When I was a kid, maybe 14 or so (which is, you know, 20+ years ago), I belonged to a Yahoo! mailing list for an anime called Gundam Wing. It was mostly populated by other teens, of varying ages, as it was started by a teen and her friends. Eventually it migrated, when Yahoo! groups started as forums, and even branched off into non-GW related stuff in a second forum.

One of the things I remember the most clearly is the oldest person in the group. Her name was Steelsong. She was a 40-something Dom with a sub whose name we knew even though we knew nothing else. She ran her own fanfic archive because the web was still handmade HTML and navigated in webrings and I’m pretty sure Google didn’t exist or was only barely, barely launched and not well known. She was kind and patient and we loved her. She treated everyone on the group with the respect given any adult, even though most of the rest of the world was still treating us like we were children. Not teenagers even, but children. She never once condescended to any of us, never made our youth a barrier to her respect, never treated us like we were incapable of being full people or like we were less than her because we were young.

I remember that she hosted our fanfiction, as absolutely terrible as it was (and I still have some of it, I am WELL aware of how cringingly terrible it is, just absolute nonsense garbage), right there alongside of other fic that was soul-achingly beautiful. Not a separate section for her friends or for kids, just right there like we were good enough to feature alongside other authors. I never once received crit from her that I didn’t ask for, only support. Only love. I am still writing today partly because Steel was so kind about our fic, fanfic and original.

I remember that when I started doing clay sculpture, she commissioned a tiny pair of dragons from me, to support me doing artwork. She sent a check my mom cashed for me, and my mom helped me mail it when it was finished. It broke in transit, and Steel assured me that she mended it and that it was still beautiful. It was a small gold dragon curled up with a small silver dragon.

I remember that her patience knew no bounds. I remember that she was there for us, regardless of reason. When we wanted to know silly things like what to do with a single AA battery, she answered. When we had serious questions about sex, she answered.  When we had questions about writing, she taught us. When one of our group members, a young gay teen in Australia, ended up in the hospital and then stopped making posts, and we all knew what had happened, she let us talk to her about it because we couldn’t go to our own parents, even though we had just lost a friend.

She was not a replacement to my parents, but she was an extra parent, in some ways. A friend, certainly, but someone that had been through more life than we had and was willing to pass on knowledge if we asked for it. Someone older that we trusted with things that were too uncomfortable to go to our parents or teachers or whatever about, because we already knew she wasn’t going to judge us or something, and that we would get an honest answer.

I don’t know why I’m remembering this so hard tonight, and I’m not sure if there’s a point to sharing this, except that I know she’s gone now. She was ill the last time we spoke, and her site went down a long time ago, and I miss her. She was a huge influence on my life, then and now. She was hope, for me, that life as an adult didn’t have to be boring, it wouldn’t have to mean giving up the things I loved and Becoming Only Responsible With No Fun. Her presence meant I had hope I could still write and play with friends even when I wasn’t ‘a kid’ anymore. And she’s gone, and I miss her, and I wanted to share her from the perspective of youth, and the perspective over twenty years later has provided me.

And I think of her, when people go off about older folks being in fandom with younger folks. I’m an older folks now, or at least middle aged folks because there are certainly folks older than me still, but I wasn’t always. I’ve been here since i was a younger folks, and I know how much Steel’s presence and support meant to me, how much she helped not just me but everyone on that group. And I think of the people saying older folks don’t belong in fandom, and that they shouldn’t interact with younger folks at all, and I just think... I can’t agree. I needed that kind of solid presence in my life back then and even at the age I am now, I need the folks older than me to stay. I want them here.

So I guess, like, if you’re here and you’re 40 or 50 or 60 or 70 or 80 or whatever, I want you here in fandom with me, still. Your presence here is a comfort. It is hope. It is a reminder that life will continue to be fun, even as I get older, myself. And if you’re younger and you have this sort of elder in your groups, I hope that they are like Steel. I hope they are kind and patient and supportive, and that knowing them gives you hope for your own future. I hope in twenty years you look back and remember them fondly.

#steelsong #personal #stories about ked's life #dash stretcher #fandom #god she would have loved ao3 so much #i wish i could tell her about the good things that have become

[luxuourr]

Why manifesting is your best friend + society is a bitch.

manifesting ?? my best friend ? hell no. i need to work so hard...

pookie it's not your work hard thing , your society you live in, we collectively live in , has told us fucked up shit we don't need to believe in, nothing of it is true. The only thing true is what's from the heart and it's the feeling , you didn't and god didn't and universe didn't send time upon us , we used our brains to create it ,

laws don't fail. laws are made laws because they're undeniable.

understand time is not linear , scientists found alphabets otherwise let's be honest , who would have known what's English is?? If Greeks and Egyptians didn't work on time. would we know today?

nuh uh! so I suggest you to remember, don't look at how much time or date you're at, don't look at how many hours until he (sp ) surprises ur enemy with date , how you fail

no time to think of this, think the best of every possible circumstance, I know and you should too, you're doing a great job

even if the last conversation with him ended in a divorce, breakup or failed situation ship, you can get it all back, even if life has not been kind to you and you could not keep up with the most important exam of your life AND you're a victim of domestic abuse or parental abuse. it's not too late, you're not doing anything right or wrong , just because you could not do more than you could because of circumstances, it'll not change your results , it'll not change you getting 100%, if you did everything positively and tried to slap your negative thoughts there's always hope. i say this as I have not prepared anything for the most important math exam of my life and it's 5 pm rn , I have 14 chapters and have the most biggest exam of my life tommorow at 1 pm, have severe depression and the most toxic and hurtful family you could ever imagine to have.

believe me, no one will care about you, until you make it happen.

do you know what your job is ?

- know what you want + assume you're that version, that super model , famous celeb, have that desired body s/o or whatever , fullfill yourself after that and BOOM you wake up in it, won't even take less than a 2-3 days if your belief is good enough, you're doing shit in a fun way to manifest everything you want

- failure doesn't exist , no you're not delusional for attempting nothing in exam and wanting 96% ,you're god remember. the others who have the exam aren't , if you assume you'll know everything without studying that's going to happen, it only depends on what you feed yourself with.

- gone is gone , it's like it'll never come back, if there is something attached , like up coming results from what happened, i suggest assume + accept and move on

- if you script, mediate, robotically affirm, visualize or do whatever, it is meant to happen

- do not worry, you're doing a good job, just try your best for certain things or assume , everything works in the best possible outcomes

- mountains and clouds , centuries and the equator will move for you to get your desires.

- no you're not cursed and shit, life's a rainbow sparkle colors it's all a roses of bed and not what society taught us, just assume and you'll wake up with it

- for example if you have important exams of your life , there's this girl in front of you doing so well in exams , u don't wanna cheat and there's no chances anyway but you realize, the best you're doing right now is trying your level best in the exam and if you have time or not , time doesn't matter it's just created by us, remember she's not better she has no idea about LOA It's , you it's me it's us. Why would she be better, she had to study 24/7 and then still assume about average grades and stress over what's wrong and right , instead you , who could visualize given it well, be the person who got 96% in these exams isn't it much more fun, less tiring and entertaining??

- you got to know manifesting for a reason, trust people who posted their success stories, trust yourself , be kind to yourself and don't let the old story walk over you, it was never there , failure never existed , you've always been the new story you created for yourself, understood.?

- beating yourself up is not going to reverse time again honey, it's gone , it's not coming back , like never so focus on yourself, your feelings , your intentions , your life. Try to know that manifesting is not about trying to get and doing methods to recieve , it's about KNOWING and feeling.

e. g Aliyah is a girl who's a manifestor she wants good grades, she has issues she cannot study because of and cause her to be burn out at home , so she decides , the night before finals.

she thinks " i will try my best and even if it's the point where it wasn't good enough, universe and manifesting has my back, the time that'll be taken by the institute to check my exams , I'll revise everything including all my wrong parts of exam and unfilled parts to fully filled correct answers because crying and whining won't do shit, but this feeling will change everything" , even her bsf in this case supported her and told her that she's manifesting for her and everything plays out in the best possible circumstances. You only assumed like that and made it happen

e. g there's another manifestor called Sara she is also giving the same exam as aliyah , but instead of working on her self concept , believing in herself

, she'd cry for hours everyday for three months so instead of reality giving her the 100% she's been hoping for , she fails she thinks 3D is everything( it's not ) , she doesn't believe in bloggers she's impulsive, thinks crying is the solution to everything , she spends 3 months crying and shitting about herself to achieve nothing in life

prior to this aliyah the master manifestor slays in everything she does, she accepts and moves on , every time bad thoughts get to her , she slaps them with " NO THIS IS MY WORLD IM AN ACCURATE PERFECT MANIFESTOR"

so who of them saved themselves despite abusive household and everything??? Sarah just spent all the time crying and whining.

you can either be her. ( Sarah) or HER (aliyah)

#law of assumption #affirmations #law of manifestation #manifestation #revision #subliminal #void #void state #void success #subliminals

[theoldsports]

SHITHEAD.

Art Donaldson x Reader.

warnings: a lot of them. 18+, slapping, begging, major angst, brat!Art, an argument with make up sex. Art is really manipulative because… he is a bit and we all know it. [Y/N] is very ill-tempered too. it’s dirty.

can be a part ii to SPONTANEOUS, or read as a standalone. this is my favorite piece of writing i have published on this account.

The bed was empty beside [Y/N]. She stared at Art’s empty side of the bed. The soft green sheets and mix-matched pillowcases went unoccupied. Not because he wasn’t home, but because [Y/N] hated Art so he had to sleep downstairs on the couch.

It wasn’t that she really hated Art. She did hate him right now. Not in a funny way. Their drive home had been silent. Poor Art didn’t know how to facilitate conversation that wouldn’t worsen the situation. His sorrowful eyes, but honest eyes kept glancing from the road to where [Y/N] sat in the passenger seat. The real showdown had started between them something awful when the door to their house slammed shut.

See, Art cried when he got mad. Or sad. Or profoundly excited. Their wedding photos were two-thirds Art crying and trying not to show that he was crying.

Art hadn’t cried tonight yet. That pissed [Y/N] off. She was furious and he seemed to feel absolutely zero discernible feelings about that.

They argued all the time. It rarely lasted all too long.

It was different this time. When [Y/N] started to say something cruel or shout or weep, Art got a little smaller, but he alarmingly stood his ground. He averted his gaze and said “I respectfully disagree,” or “What the fuck do you know about how I feel?” in a dangerously level tone.

Fighting with Art about this wasn’t fun. He was too cool about. He knew he was right. [Y/N] wanted to yell and scream because Art was so relaxed and condescending in his tone. When the man who had spent his teenage years getting referred at competition after competition as literally Ice tonelessly said: “Jesus Christ, aren’t you bored yet? What, going to over-explain the same information to me again, or…?” Finally, that had made [Y/N] drag herself to bed and yank the door closed violently enough that she felt the metallic vibration run all the way up to her shoulder.

And she was still laying there, staring at Art’s side of the bed.

At the Zweig’s party that night, there were a few hot topics in the Donaldsons’ sphere:

1) Lots of congratulations from people that had known them grow up, but hadn’t seen them since the wedding or prior.

This was mostly very kind. It dragged that smirk up Art’s face and caused his fingers to dig tighter into [Y/N]’s waist. That look of pride and tenderness on his face was more than welcome.

2) Lots of questions about Patrick. His lack of attendance was felt.

Both Donaldsons dodged these question as much as they could. Art kept an eye on [Y/N]’s liquor consumption. He knew how embarrassed she would be if she said something she regretted in front of Patrick’s family. Patrick had hurt them both, but Art’s heart went out to [Y/N]. Her world had been built around Patrick’s from a young age. Art was trying to engineer his own world higher around her so she wouldn’t be able to see the old place and people that had burned her over the walls.

3) “You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

With Art keeping an eye on [Y/N]’s drinking, she hadn’t really been keeping an eye on him. She just assumed he would keep his shit together. Art drinking in public was never really a concern. He wasn’t a big drinker anyway. At this point, his career mattered more and he was approaching his mid-twenties which made him feel surely less young than he had once. He wasn’t a casual beer guy either. It was Patrick who liked beer and Art who would have a moledo or something sometimes. Art did like white girl drinks, though. Tequila and fruity stuff. He had been able to shoot shot after shot of vodka like a pro in college at a season-end celebration.

Art was a tight-lipped man, but he was a giggly drunk who he got pretty comfortable talking out of his ass from behind a glass with an umbrella in it. Art was rarely comfortable with anything, so a drink or two at a party was welcome to him.

Another important point of context is that the largest point of tension between Art and [Y/N] was starting a family. They desperately wanted a child together, but they disagree on when. [Y/N] felt like she was fresh out of college, so she figured they had plenty of time. Art felt that he was fresh out of college, so he figured they may as well get to it.

Their arguments about this were once semi-regular. In the last four months or so, Art timidly bowed out and hoped [Y/N] would tell him when she was ready (sooner rather than later). He got tired of the low-tier shouting matches. Instead, he would pick fights about things that were decidedly lower stakes when he was bored.

Art had let [Y/N] field comments about family planning throughout the night. Unfortunately, when Art was polishing off a second drink, he ran his mouth a little bit.

Knowing he was the designated driver that night, Art did go easy. Art was also, like, five pounds. While he could hold his liquor with grace, he always got giggly. He watched with heavy eyelids as [Y/N] walked away to collect another drink following the dinner portion of the evening. The paper placecards with their shared last name emblazoned on them rested comfortably in Art’s inner jacket pocket to be kept as a memory.

Some guy who sold boat insurance and liked to rub elbows with talent was talking Art’s ear off. Art couldn’t remember his name, but [Y/N] would know it.

This was the precise moment that got Art in trouble.

Because when the guy whose name Art was sure started with an R said: “So! You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

Art said:

“Any day now, I hope. Tomorrow. I’m good to go. [Y/N] thinks now’s not a great time for her.”

He had said it with a smirk and a stupid little laugh. It was basically locker room talk. Big deal. He would’ve said it to Patrick with [Y/N] present in the room. This guy wasn’t Patrick and he was technically speaking behind her back.

Art had forgotten how close they were standing to the bar. He had forgotten that the frequency of his pitchy tenor was known to carry. He had forgotten that he was well known to be an instigator of fights even though he never actually threw the first punch. He had forgotten that he hadn’t been whispering. He had forgotten that this guy… Richy? Ronnie? was pretty much a stranger who had no business knowing their business.

Now, Art was sleeping on the couch and his side of the bed was empty.

Jackass.

[Y/N] stared still at the empty bed and didn’t know how to articulate her upset to an Art who had seemingly yet to feel ashamed.

She had a headache and was tired. But sleep wasn’t going to come easy and all she had to look forward to was a hangover.

Art didn’t really snore, but he was a heavy breather when he slept. The lack of his white noise made the A/C blowing and the stairs creaking too loud. Maybe all of this was on [Y/N] for making Art uncomfortable, she dared to think.

Then she reminded herself that it was Art’s fault for talking too much and for drinking when he knew he was supposed to drive home.

[Y/N] rolled over to face away from Art’s spot. All she could think about is how his hands always sleepily pawed at her to pull her back when she got too far away from him before he fell asleep.

“So, what’d you do?” Patrick asked.

“She hates me.” Art replied. It was almost a question.

“I asked what you did, not what she feels. She already told us what she feels and it’s that she hates you.” Patrick stated. When Patrick had stopped through town for a match, he had come by for dinner with, well, his best friends. This had been right after they’d gotten engaged.

Art sniffled. He didn’t want to cry in front of Patrick. Art would sooner cry in front of his own father. Both men would have laughed in his face, but it would have stung more from Patrick. “We got into a fight yesterday. A big one. Like, the first, uh, big one. She’s worried about the f—“

“The future? Please,” Patrick said bitterly. He frowned and his jaw tightened, but he combatted it by tossing Art a smile before the other man noticed the tension. “Stupid. You’re gonna marry her. You’ll play tennis. She’ll do her… columns? Articles. I don’t get what it is that she does—“

“She writes for—“

“Sure, yeah. You’re gonna have two kids so you can each pick a favorite one. And she’s gonna be a pain in your ass forever. Don’t be a pussy.”

Art sniffled again and stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I didn’t think I did,” Art said meekly. “I don’t get it. She gets so mad sometimes. At me.” Patrick stared at him blankly. Art had to know that he was usually at least a little bit the problem.

“Did she do the thing where she calls you a—“

“Shithead bastard?”

“Shithead bastard.” Both boys said at the same time. Art dragged his hands through his hair and looked up at Patrick. Both of them quirked a smirk at the other.

“See,” Patrick started. “You’ll be fine. Fuckin’ go after her.”

“And say what!”

“Uh… ‘I’m sorry?’ You do that kinda shit. She’ll like that.”

It was impossible to know how long [Y/N] laid there. The clock was on Art’s side and she would get spitting mad if she rolled back over.

She could just go downstairs and tell Art to come back to bed. He was probably sleeping just fine.

“Hey, hon, you don’t hate me, right?” Art’s voice whispered in the darkness.

[Y/N] was fairly certain she had imagined it. She had not heard his sweaty feet on the stairs or his fingers against the doorknob. Quickly, [Y/N] whipped over to face the door behind her.

There was Art. His sweatpants sat low on his hips and his shirt was long gone. Clothing didn’t often survive the night on Art’s back.

Really, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken Art to work through coming upstairs so quietly. “Mm?” [Y/N] groaned in question.

Art rocked his right shoulder into the doorway to lean. His arms were crossed and his eyes straight ahead on her from what [Y/N] could tell in the glow of the hallway’s thermostat. “Please just tell me you don’t hate me and I’ll let you go back to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

With a sigh, [Y/N] sat up and rolled her cracking shoulders back. “I don’t hate you, Art.” Her heart melted a little bit. [Y/N] knew it was immature, but her special attack in arguments since childhood was to bandy around the word hate a lot. Not that she had said it to Art tonight, but she had no doubt said it before. More than once. More times than she could count, maybe.

She was surprised Art had never asked this before. That surprise hurt in an a way that was too complex to describe. “I could never hate you.” [Y/N] continued, voice hushed only because it was dark out.

Art’s posture relaxed slightly. “You promise you don’t?” Said Art’s evermore crippling lack of self-confidence.

“I promise.” [Y/N] replied calmly.

“Okay. Thank you.” Art said in a small voice.

“I love you, baby. I don’t hate you. You shouldn’t have to ask that. I’m sorry I made you feel like you even have to ask that.”

Art frowned sharply. “No, I’m the one that should be sorry. You told me nicely not to talk about—“

“Don’t play that. You have to know you don’t feel like you did anything wrong, so you don’t have to invent a situation where you’re some horrible person.”

Art was silent.

[Y/N] continued. “I’m pissed because you told Randy,” RANDY. His name was RANDY. That’s it. “Our business. My business, really. He’s an asshole. It’s fine. Well, not now, but eventually. But you kinda martyred yourself on it. You don’t have to do that and I don’t hate you. You know I don’t… Right?”

“I’m sorry.” Art said quickly. He was gifted at making every single minor problem his own fault. He knew he was a little bit of an awful person for that, but he would die before admitting it. Art would hide behind his martyring habit as long as his cross could hold him, though. [Y/N] hadn’t noticed before this moment, but she could see the shining of his eyes in the digital blue-green glow. Tears. This time, less than obvious waterworks. Aw.

“I’m sorry. I’m still pissed at you for running your mouth, but I’m sorry too.”

Art nodded, said nothing else and reached for the doorknob.

Here is a frustrating thing about Art.

He said he was going to leave for downstairs once [Y/N] said she didn’t hate him. He started to make good on that vow. If he says something, he’s going to do it, even though he doesn’t have to do it.

“Come on,” [Y/N] called louder than she’d been whispering. “Come here, pretty baby.”

Pretty Baby by Blondie had been their wedding song. She had been calling him that for almost as long as she had known him. Saying it, or hearing the song always made that stunning, small crooked smile stretch up beyond his sad puppy eyes all the way to his ears.

Art’s kryptonite was pretty baby. They both knew it.

He turned to look at her with a slight blush on his cheeks, almost visible in the dark. Art shifted one of his feet childishly over the other in apprehension.. “Don’t make me say it again. I don’t like to ask twice.” [Y/N] reminded him.

After a hasty nod, Art was in bed before he [Y/N] blinked. The blonde sat bolt upright beside [Y/N] with his eyes wide. Hesitant, but coyly so. He knew this pattern. The agony and shame from her brutality would only last so long. Housepets loved to cause trouble for treat.

Not to say that Art liked to start fights so he could play some low-status lapdog that got to feel his wife’s fingers comb through his hair the way he liked as a reward for an apology. The man bit his cheek to avoid a devious smirk. A part of him did like to do that sometimes, though.

He always got away with it. He was such a nice boy.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes and leaned back into the threadbare pillows. With a finger, she beckoned Art nearer. Hesitation eliminated, Art flopped slowly down beside [Y/N]; she on her back, he on his side, facing her. Delicately, Art’s fingers dragged down [Y/N]’s arm to curl in her fingers.

Not long after that, his plush mouth climbed down from her neck. Then shoulders and collarbones. Then bicep. Elbow. Forearm and wrist. Down her hand to her silver-studded ring finger. Each kiss with accompanied with an honest and dutiful I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He was sorry. Genuinely. Sorry for the upset he brought his wife, but not the cause. Art’s beautiful duel-colored eyes glanced up at [Y/N]’s blown pupils through her own fingers.

“I didn’t mean to talk about you like that… I just… I love you so much that I want more of you. That’s all, honey,” Art laid his head on [Y/N]’s upper chest and his mouth moved against the front of her throat. “I’m just a little stupid, huh…”

Under his lips, Art could feel the rumble of a laugh rip through [Y/N]’s throat. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair to hold him in place. “Do-don’t talk about yourself like that,” she mumbled and gave his hair a lovely tug with both hands. He whimpered. [Y/N] wanted to bottle that sound. Art would always remember what she said next and how she said it: “Only I get to talk about you like that… St-stupid.”

This was the version of [Y/N] he was going to remember when he thought of her every day for the rest of his life. That sentence, the way her hair hung from where he had pushed it away from her neck. The sting of the cold metal from her wedding ring on the back of his neck and the stone of her engagement ring pressing into where he reached his palm to place his hand over hers. There was just the wrong amount of clothes between them. Her eyes ringed smoky from the makeup smudges and the exhaustion.

“Say it again.” Art whispered, swinging a knee over [Y/N]’s thighs so he could stare down at her. His forehead pressed softly against [Y/N]’s.

[Y/N]’s mouth fell open slightly with a breathy exhalation. Holy shit. “What, pretty baby, you want me to tell you how stupid you are? You like that?” [Y/N] almost whispered into Art’s still lips. He was too shocked to kiss her back, but too turned on to pull away. Art whimpered louder than before. [Y/N] felt him nod.

So she didn’t hold back. “You think I need to punish you after you behaved like that today or something? You need to atone for what a moron you were, shithead?” [Y/N] kept her tone light enough to just about tease as her nose trailed along the side of his. Her objective was to belittle. Her nails slid down Art’s muscular, sturdy back.

They both knew Art was a masochist on his worst days. Did he get off on being degraded sometimes? Sure. But this series of events was ridiculously new and exciting for [Y/N]. And shockingly obviously for Art too.

His hips pressed into her pathetically. “What? Did you need help with something?” She asked innocently when she felt Art’s hard-on against her thigh. [Y/N] kissed him distractingly warmly for how she was treating him. Art’s head spun and he couldn’t seem to make sense of anything anymore. He had backed himself into the best kind of corner.

Across Art’s hips and side went [Y/N]’s left hand, to the front of his sweatpants. Humiliatingly, Art blinked tears out of his eyes and screwed them shut. His mouth opened and closed, but no intelligent sound came out. [Y/N] planted a kiss at the corner of his parted lips. His strong arms boxed [Y/N] protectively in from above, but she had him locked into place, really. “Baby, if you want something, you know you have to ask for it.”

“Nnh,” Art tried, eyes stuck shut. His attention was mostly spent hold himself up over his wife. His insanely gorgeous wife. [Y/N]’s other hand grabbed his jaw tenderly. He still didn’t look at her. Art was gathering his courage. “Yo-you already told me I couldn’t have what I wanted.”

With a sharp inhale, [Y/N] grip went from gentle to nonexistent. At the lack of contact, Art’s damp eyes crept open one at a time to see if his brattiness had overstepped the situation. His frightened eyes caught [Y/N]’s. She popped the side of his face sharply with an open palm. Art blinked and tipped his head to the side like a dog.

That was big trouble, huh?

“Fuck,” he said. Both of them panted in sync. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.

[Y/N] pulled Art’s face to hers and kissed him hard. “I love… you.” She said.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson #challengers movie

[writtenfangirl]

Madness

I wrote this so long ago and then abandoned it because I didn’t know if the ending was satisfactory or not. I thought it would have a greater plot as well but when I couldn’t find it, I was dissatisfied until I reread it and realized the prose was too good not to publish.

Fluff but also a little bit of angst if you squint hard enough.

In which Benedict Bridgerton finally reveals the truth.

She was beautiful. Too beautiful, if Benedict was being perfectly honest with himself. Not the kind of beauty that had him picking up a paint brush and painstakingly striking an easel with lovely swirls of color but the kind of beauty that distracted him, made him brood in a dim corner of the room, watching the little twists of her mouth and the subtle way she arched a brow. Beauty to the point of distraction, like spending hours watching shooting stars dash across the night sky, not realizing as dawn approached on the horizon.

It was utterly maddening.

She was utterly maddening.

How was he meant to live, to exist and breathe, to witness such great beauty and yet have none of the capacity, the right, to keep it?

Just a glance from her, a single curve of her lips, and Benedict could feel his faith in God strengthening as easily as he could deny the Lord’s existence. Only a benevolent God could create such ecstatic beauty and yet no benevolent God could exist in this world if Benedict had to bear the cruelty of Y/N’s indifference.

Maddening.

He sighed, the sound bereft as he continued to watch her charm the eligible men of the ton. She had a veritable cabal of men gathered around her and if any other debutant had been in her position, they surely would have been overwhelmed by now.

But not Y/N.

Never Y/N.

With her head held high and her smile demure, she directed the men as easily as if she was holding court. A slight clearing of the throat and already, someone had a glass of lemonade in their hand while a flap of her hand would have the men falling over themselves in an attempt to get her a chair.

A queen holding court, indeed.

Benedict rolled his eyes at the man to her right, who practically shoved at the man on his left in order to catch Y/N’s attention. Not that it really mattered though, especially not when Y/N’s attention was focused on Benedict.

Even from across the room, the tension between them felt palpable. Exhilarating. It always had been with Y/N. Thick and smooth, the connection between them as tangible as their own beating hearts. Just a shared look between them and the world fell silent, the edges of his vision practically darkening at the edges until he saw only her.

Beautiful. Even as her face contorted with hurt for the briefest of seconds, her eyes pulling away from him and returning to the crowd of men that surrounded her.

Benedict gritted his teeth, the only sign of annoyance he let himself show.

“I see you are not quite so enamored with our diamond.”

Benedict’s head whipped to the left, finding Lady Danbury watching him with those shrewd eyes of hers. The old crone had her cane gripped tightly in her hands and Benedict fought his grimace at the phantom pain that shot up from his ankles. The dowager countess had a terrible habit of whacking gentlemen she didn’t like with that sturdy cane of hers and Benedict had felt the brunt of that pain far too many times for his liking.

Still, as a gentleman, he couldn’t very well ignore the woman. It would have been terribly rude of him to and it went against every fiber of the etiquette that had been drilled to him as a child.

He spared Y/N another glance before he spoke. “You think all those men enamored with her?”

“I think they think themselves enamored by her,” Lady Danbury said. “She is quite a beauty and accomplished too, I hear. Are you acquainted with the young lady?”

He had been, when he was young. As recently as a few months ago, Benedict had counted Y/N as one of his dearest friends but with everything that transpired between them…

“We are familiar with one another.”

Lady Danbury arched a brow, directing her attention back to Y/N. She was animatedly speaking with Anthony and Colin, the only time the entire evening where her smile didn’t seem a little bit forced. “Your brothers seem friendly with her. Why aren’t you?”

Because he was a stupid, bloody, idiot who didn’t know how to keep his damn mouth shut, that’s why.

But his pride would never let him say that, especially not in front of Lady Danbury. “We are familiar with each other.” He repeated, voice tight.

Lady Danbury’s eyes flickered. “I seem to recall your mother telling me about how you and the Lady Y/N were thick as thieves not so long ago.”

Bloody hell, the old crone was relentless. He didn’t want to talk about his and Y/N’s falling out, especially not with her.

He suddenly whirled, cocking his head to the side. “Oh, I believe I hear someone calling me.”

No one was calling him but not even his impeccable manners could make him stay.

Lady Danbury harrumphed. “I may be old, boy, but I am not deaf.”

“Definitely hear someone calling me.” Benedict even cupped a hand, placing it on the side of his mouth before he yelled a quick, “I’ll be right there!” He turned back to Lady Danbury, who was looking at him as if she knew his claims were a lie. “Lady Danbury, if you’ll excuse me.”

The dowager countess simply gave Benedict a knowing look yet let him go.

He ducked into the crowd towards… bloody hell he couldn’t find anyone he would rather talk to. His brothers were still off speaking with Y/N and he didn’t feel like speaking with his mother, who would likely hound him about his fight with Y/N. Which left the last person of their party, Eloise. A quick scan of the room revealed his sister in the other side of the room, conspiratorially whispering to her best friend, Penelope Featherington.

He zoomed towards them, turning his back on Y/N and Lady Danbury.

Eloise caught his eye as he approached and her lips pursed in displeasure. “Why do you look as if you’re expecting me to bail you out of a horrible situation.”

“Can’t I see my favorite sister with joy in my face without being suspected of ill intent?”Benedict said with a grin before bowing to Penelope, who returned the gesture with her own curtsy.

Penelope ducked her head to suppress a giggle.

Eloise rolled her eyes at him. “What do you want?”

“To ask you why you’re sulking in a corner instead of dancing despite—“ he pulled at the dance card in her wrist, every single line filled with names that were unfamiliar to him. “Did you put fake names in your dance card?”

Eloise snatched her wrist back. “Yes. I thought that with Y/N grabbing the attention of so many of the gentlemen, I would be spared the embarrassment of having to entertain any gentlemen tonight. Unfortunately, I was wrong.”

Benedict turned to Penelope. “How many approached her?”

“Six,” Penelope smirked, “and those six quickly turned right back around.”

“Well with a full dance card, I’m not at all surprised.”

Eloise rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Spare me the lecture, brother. I’m sure I’ll hear enough from mother tonight.”

“She caught you?”

“After Eloise turned down the sixth one, Lady Violet began to suspect,” Penelope explained.

Benedict grinned. “When have you known me to lecture you?”

She gave him a saccharine smile, the kind that Benedict always knew would end with her barbed words. “Aren’t you meant to be fawning over Y/N? You’d done it most of our life.”

He bristled at her words.

Penelope shot them a curious look. “You never told me you were acquainted with the lady?”

“Hadn’t I?” Eloise frowned. “Lady Y/L/N’s family and ours have been acquainted for ages. Of course, she rarely ever came to London and if it hadn’t been for her father’s recent passing she wouldn’t have had a season at all. Mama had held hope that perhaps one of my dear brothers would begin to take some responsibility and marry her.” She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper that was so loud, it still reached Benedict’s ears. “Personally, I always thought Benedict would offer. He and Y/N had a special bond growing up. Even Daphne thinks so.”

Benedict had never hit a woman before but perhaps, just this once, excuses could be made for one’s sisters.

“So, well acquainted then,” Penelope said with a slight smile.

“I do recall Benedict pining after Y/N for years,” Eloise mused, uncaring as Benedict’s mood soured. “You never did tell me why it is you suddenly became estranged”

“Not that it’s any of your business.” He grumbled.

Eloise batted eyes innocently. “Irritable today, aren’t you, brother? Could it possibly be because of the cadre of men that hound every one of Y/N’s footsteps?”

“I have changed my mind. Francesca is now my favorite sister.”

“I love you too, Benedict,” she all but grinned.

He turned his attention back to Y/N, who, to his surprise, had taken her leave.

“She’s in the garden, if you wish to speak to her,” Eloise said, noting his wandering eyes and nodding towards the open veranda at the side.

“What gave you the impression that I would like to speak to her?”

Eloise simply rolled her eyes before tugging Penelope’s arm. “With Y/N taking her respite, I imagine there will be a sudden influx of gentlemen who would like to dance. Let us make ourselves scarce.” And she pulled Penelope along, the red head offering Benedict an apologetic look.

He glanced at the crowd once again before letting his feet carry him through the veranda and out towards the garden. There were still many people milling about outside that granted them protection from scandal but it was much more intimate than the loud din of the ballroom.

The night was cool, the spring air serene compared to the humidity of the ballroom.

He spied Y/N, her back turned against the door. Upon hearing his approach, she sighed. “Good sir, if you did not understand me, I wish to be al—“ she turned and her words died at her lips at the sight of him. “Oh. It’s you.”

She looked even lovelier up close. She always did. Whether dressed in a simple frock with her long hair flowing down her back or dressed ornately with jewels adorning her, she always looked lovelier up close.

“What do you want, Benedict,” Y/N said, dropping that societal mask she employed inside.

“To apologize.”

She shook her head. “There is nothing to apologize for. You asked for my hand under false pretenses, I rejected you. End of story.“

“Under false pretenses?” He echoed, his own tone turning sharp. “You think my proposal to be insincere? Is that why you rejected me?”

“I did not think it insincere, I knew it to be insincere. I heard you and the Lady Violet discussing me. I heard when you declared your intention to ask for my hand in marriage simply because she had asked you to.”

Oh.

Oh.

He remembered then, the conversation he had with his mother right before he proposed.

“Propose to her,” Violet had urged just as breakfast had been served, with only Benedict and Violet dining.

“I am not even courting her, mama,” he replied exasperatedly. It had been far too early in the morning to entertain his mother’s insistence on seeing him wed to Y/N. She’d pestered him about it in one form or another even before the Y/L/Ns had come to visit the Bridgertons and Benedict knew she would not stop until he and Y/N were formally engaged.

But Y/N had just ended her mourning period for her father. And though societal mandates dictated that it was perfectly reasonable for Benedict to ask for her hand in marriage, he knew how deeply she mourned the man, especially since his death had placed her in such a precarious position. The late patriarch of the Y/L/N family had been fond of his only child, even if she had been born a girl. And Y/N had loved him, even if his death left her and her mother saddled with financial debt despite coming from the longest line of barony in England.

“What does it matter that you are not courting?” Violet demanded. “You have known her since you were both children. You’ve been courting her all your life.”

“Mama, please leave it well enough alone.”

“What is it that you do not like about her?” She insisted. “She is beautiful and accomplished and you have known each other your whole lives. Any young man would be fortunate to be bound to her in marriage.”

“I never said anything that would imply otherwise.”

“Then why do you refuse to ask her for her hand in marriage? Doing so would spare her a season in London and limit their financial troubles.” And then she had gasped in indignation. “Or is their financial troubles the very reason why you refuse? I never raised you to be avaricious!”

Bloody hell. “I am not avaricious, mother. I do not care about her dowry or lack thereof!”

“Then what is it? Do not tell me it is because you do not love her. I have seen the way you look at her.”

Benedict had eyed his fork, had wondered if perhaps, it would be a better to shove it in his ears than listen to his mother’s hullabaloo.

Instead he took a scone, spreading a generous layer of clotted cream and jam so his hands had something to do rather than maim himself.

“And how is it I look at her, mother?” He drawled.

“The same way your father used to look at me.”

At that he had paused, scone half-raised to his mouth. He hadn’t known what to say anymore. Mentions of his own father had always been capable of silencing his mind.

Finally, he had decided on telling her the truth, that his mother may finally stop pestering him.

“Asking Y/N for her hand in marriage had always been the plan, mother,” Benedict relented. “I was simply waiting for the perfect moment.”

Violet smiled at her son kindly. “There are no such thing as perfect moments, dearest. Only moments that can be made perfect. And whether you ask her later or tomorrow or next week, that moment will be perfect by virtue of you asking.”

She was right, of course. Violet Bridgerton was so rarely incorrect especially in matters of the heart and love.

Benedict had given her a smile, and said, voice dripping in sarcasm. “Well, since you so graciously asked me to, I shall propose to the Lady Y/N, if only to make you happy.”

That must have been what Y/N heard. Not the whole story but the end, when Benedict had teased his mother.

Now he was convinced that God existed and that he must be cruel. Only the machinations of a cruel God could have lined up the timing perfectly.

Y/N’s eyes flickered as she regarded him. “I do not wish to bind you in marriage with someone you do not hold any affection for. You have fulfilled your promise to your mother and have asked for my hand. I rejected you. We no longer have any obligations with one another. Good night.” She made a move to pass him, to walk back to the ballroom to her gaggle of men but Benedict’s hand shot up, gripping her arm and keeping her to him.

His hands were gloved and even Y/N’s arms were sheathed in silk. And though he had never felt gloves to be particularly offensive, he wished to burn the ones that covered their hands. If only so he could feel her smooth skin beneath his fingers.

The heady scent of her perfume wafted through his senses. She smelled divine, like walking through a garden of roses under the cover of moonlight as the stars twinkled above his head. Utterly mouthwatering, and capable of driving even the sanest of men into insanity. The scent of distraction.

Always so distracting.

Benedict forced his mouth to speak before his brain could forget the words he needed to say. “Do you think so little of me? Capable of such cruelty especially when it comes to you.”

Y/N’s brows met, a flash of pain in her eyes and then it was gone. “It is the opposite, really. I think the world of you, Benedict. Only a gentleman would offer to marry a girl he has no obligations to simply because of her precarious position in life. You are an honorable man and any woman would be lucky to call you their husband. It is why I cannot accept your proposal, not when you do not love me. Not when there is no one on this world more deserving of love than you.”

Benedict frowned at her. “Why do you continue to insist that I do not love you?”

“Because you do not!” She pulled away from him, wrenching her hand from his grasp. Her eyes were pure anguish as she looked at him and the very sight of her pain had him staggering back. “If you truly held any affection for me, I would know. I have studied you all our lives, Benedict. And in all the time we shared together, you had never shown any affection for me beyond that of a friend. Your proposal hurt, Benedict. I have loved you in every way a man could be loved for so long and for you to ask for my hand in marriage out of pity—“ She choked, eyes widening as if she didn’t mean to say the things she’d said.

“You love me?” He echoed, heart beating quickly in his chest. He wondered, briefly, if his fast beating heart marks the day he really lived. If Y/N’s confession had been the reason he truly felt alive for the first time in his life.

Her face crumpled in pain as she stepped back. “Forgive me, I shouldn’t have said those things. Please take your leave, Benedict. That I may salvage whatever scraps of my dignity is left.”

But Benedict did no such thing.

Instead he took her hands and lowered himself into a kneel, setting his eyes upon her. The arching light of the manor spilled over the veranda casted her in a soft glow that took his very breath away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in alarm and whatever pain she held there was washed away by her surprise. “Benedict, what are you doing?”

“Begging you for forgiveness.”

“What? Benedict, get up.”

But he held firm, his determination cementing his knees to the ground. “Forgive me, Y/N, for my grave transgressions against you. That you had ever lived your life doubting my affections for you, or wondering if I cared for you as more than a friend are sins I will carry with me to my last breath. It will be my great shame that I had not made it abundantly clear that I love you. Because I do love you. Most ardently.”

“Benedict, get up. This is madness—“

“You are right. It is madness. The way I feel for you would drive the sanest of people into lunacy. But if loving you is madness then I don’t ever wish to be sane.”

Her eyes gleamed silver with unshed tears that threatened to fall from her pretty eyes. “B-But that morning, the day you proposed—“

“I did not propose to you out of pity for you, I did it out of pity for me. I needed to put myself out of my misery and finally marry the only girl I ever had the privilege of falling in love with rather than continue pining after you in secret.”

She let out a a laugh through her tears, the sound like bells chiming during a storm. Light and beautiful despite the pouring rain that threatened to drown it out. “Ask me again.”

His heart leapt to his throat, pounding so quickly he struggled to get the words out. But they came nonetheless, the words clear and betraying none of his anxiety. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

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