#and that is not a good state to have a ton of work to do under

[works-of-heart]

"E/riel has plot!"

What plot? If they're already 'in love,' what's the plot for them to fall in love?

Oh Forbidden romance?

...You mean how Elain ISN'T FORCED AT ALL to accept this mating bond? How literally no one is forcing her hand one way or another and it's up to HER whether she wants to accept her mate or not?

How Rhys challenged Azriel to show he had ANY feelings beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to, but fell short?

Or how Rhys said that if Elain DID choose to reject it, that she would have their support? (Clearly Rhysand isn't standing in the way if Azriel's feelings for her were anything beyong "the fantasies he pleasured himself to." or could at least say with his chest he was over Mor.

Oh, you mean the tons of other 'theories' that e/riel has come up with that literally destroys all the character/ story build up she's been writing? Having an SA survivor be evil and luring men. Or having that character not be involved at all (Because you know, THAT plot threatens your ship.)

Oh riiight, the millions of different kinds of 'mate' theories. How ONLY Elucien's bond is the wrong one, but everyone else's? They're right! Even though, Lucien shares the SAME mating qualities that Rhysand and Cassian share. The longing stares, (Azriel had that for Mor too before Moriel got retconned. Don't worry Az, there's a fiery red haired beauty waiting for you!), the concern, the mate desire and the chant of "you are mine and I am yours." Sounds like Lucien's bond fits right alongside the others doesn't it?

The plots they claim would literally take Lucien's HEA away, despite SJM's OWN WORDS that there was 'someone special' for him, then making him mates with ELAIN. Then going on to say that there's a great deal of Tension, growth and HEALING for them( TOGETHER). Oh, look! That sounds like PLOT doesn't it? A plot of healing tension and growth! Something that SJM is known for in her books. Something Feyre, and Nesta got. Interesting.

Lucien is carrying the story in the Background. He has his hands dipped in Koschei, Vassa and Jurien, Beron and Eris, Spring court, Day court (finding out his true heritage), Emissary to Night court and Ally (As Rhys clearly explains).

Hmmmm. It sounds to me like Lucien has a TON of plot surrounding him. Elain being a seer, being said that Spring court was built for her. Her scent is the "Promise of Spring." (Who is currently stationed in spring court? Oh, Lucien, her mate! Look at that, it's already set up! =D) Even Rhysand states that we haven't seen all there is to Elain, and yet SJM is prepping her to go to spring.

Tell me, how does E/riel fit into spring? Do we need yet another contradicting 'plot/theory' to make it work?

The way Az's shadows don't run from Gwyn, they dance with her. They don't raise up alarm (which let's be real, if she was evil, his shadows would ABSOLUTELY tell Azriel to be cautious. Instead, they sit calmly at his shoulders. They're playful and sing.) Azriel not having to hide his scars, not having to think negative, degrating thoughts about himself while he's with Gwyn. The spark in his chest he got at the thought of her teal eyes lighting up. A thing of secret lovely beauty (Not a thing of deciept and magic). And no, he never got a spark in his chest for Elain.

The tie to Valkyrie and Illyrians, there's banter and laughter between them. Nesta being Gwyn's chosen sister, Cassian being Az's chosen brother. Think of the cute double dates they'd have!

If E/riel needs to make people who SJM have literally set up to have epic stories 'villains' or have them die, or not even exist for the ship to work, if their HEA includes ruining entire plots and stories, butchering characters, then it isn't very good now is it?

Meanwhile, Elucien and Gwynriel are set up to have intrigue, healing and growth for BOTH of the couples. I dunno, you can call the bad character breaking theories 'plots' if you want. If that helps you believe in your ship, sure? I rest easy knowing SJM isn't out here trying to rewrite her WHOLE entire story and throw out everything she wrote in the garbage, just to make ONE ship happen when she said there were clearly 2.

#elucien #pro elucien #elucien supremacy #elain x lucien #anti e/riel #pro gwynriel #gwynriel

[jinisnuggets]

Haiiii hru :) can i ask for lee felix, bang chan and changbin react to their injury on your post before so this like part 2?

Thank youuu :)❤

Hiii, I'm good 😊

So for Stray Kids I explained on my pinned that I only write for Lee Know, Han, & Seungmin

BUTTTTT-

I can def give you a small preview of what I think would happen with those 3 by using the exact 3 scenarios I used previously:

The moment he saw the phone call from the hospital coming on his phone, he automatically got serious and picked it up, he knew the hospital wouldn't be calling him for no reason unless if it was a mistake.

Bang Chan:

When heard the doctor on the other end say that y/n was in the hospital he automatically asked why as he ran to the front door, where the towel that held his shoes laid, he picked them up and slid them on, in a rush to drive over since his home wasn't exactly close to the hospital.

In terms of text messages, he'd scold you a little but he'd mostly be concerned for your well-being and you state, asking you if you'd like him to pick up something before he arrives, you mostly reply by saying no, but when he insist you'd just tell him some food :).

Felix:

He was most definitely doing something random like dancing in the living room when he received the call, he got jump scared by it but he mainly assumed it was just a mistake, however when he heard the person the other end confirmed his name, he had to purse his lips (to not laugh) because of the initial thought.

He wasn't paying much attention at first because he assumed they were gonna tell him something among the lines of 'you have debt' but his memory wouldn't allow him to remember, that changed among the mention of your name, explaining your current situation and state.

He would've texted you while he was still on call with the hospital, frantically spamming you asking if you were okay, sometimes calling but he felt slightly more at ease seeing his calls be rejected, and he was glad when he finally saw a reply from you, he'd forget to be mad, just a ton of 'but you're okay right?'

Changbin:

He would've been working out whenever he heard his phone buzzing through his earphones, he had his notifications off but apparently had them on vibrate, so he walked over and analyzed the contact info, confirming the call was ligit before picking up.

They confirmed his name and told him about your situation, he had a moment to process before asking the doctors to reiterate, and so among hearing your name a second time, he quickly left the gym and went over to his car in the parking lot. He would've stopped by a gas station for your favorite snacks but then quickly sped through the rest of the way.

He definitely would've been mad when he texted you, he definitely prefer to call but he understood your circumstances of being unable to. He'd scold you, not about the crash but more about the importance of telling each other as a couple, you'd let him finish and ask if he could get you some snacks, before he replied with 'done.'

#fanfiction #scenarios #headcannons #kpop #scenario #kpop scenarios #fluff #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #felix x reader #felix x you #felix #angst #changbin #changbin x reader #changbin x you #gn reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids

[good-beanswrites]

Could you write a drabble for Mikoto and Shidou plus Blood? This request miiight be inspired by the fact that Mikoto mentions his body hurting a lot but doesn't seem to be receiving any medical treatment, either because Mahiru and Fuuta take priority or because there's no obvious cause, and therefore cure, to his pain...

👀👀👀 Thank you, this is such a good combo ough!! It's so interesting how much focus the others get when it comes to physical health, since Mikoto has clearly complained of his condition :( It looks like Milgram is trying to push the idea that he's completely oblivious to his alters, but I spun it where he's aware, just deep in denial. So have some Mikoto angst to get us hyped for Double!

Mikoto should be grateful. He was lucky. That’s what he kept repeating to himself. He had both of his eyes intact. Both his arms. He was strong enough to walk around freely. He wasn’t on the verge of death, or collapse. Thus, he should be grateful no one was offering him any help, because it meant he didn’t need it. He repeated it again. Maybe this time he would believe it.

With a groan, his body rolled out of bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up actually feeling rested. Everything ached. His muscles tightened with soreness. His throat felt as raw as his knuckles, though he hadn’t been using either. He had no desire to lift his arms over his head, or twist around too much, so he didn’t change out of yesterday’s uniform. Maybe the belts and buckles had made it difficult to sleep. The theory wasn’t a convincing one, but dwelling on things like that had never gotten him anywhere.

He ran his fingers once through his hair, combing out a bit of the mess. Looking in a mirror was the last thing he needed. He made his way to the dining hall. 

The others trickled in for breakfast. His appetite, at least, hadn’t suffered. He hardly noticed the others giving him wide-eyed stares. What were they expecting? Of course he was looking worse for wear, given the circumstances. He ignored them, glad to focus on the hot meal before him.

A hand weighed heavy on his shoulder.

“Mikoto,” Shidou’s voice may have remained calm, but it was urgent. “Do you need some help?”

“Huh?” He shrugged his hand away, offering a weak smile. “I’m fine! Oh, I think Kazui was saving a seat for you over there, if you --”

“-- How about we go to my cell for a moment? Or yours, if that would be more comfortable.”

What was everyone’s problem this morning? Mikoto did his best to keep his voice pleasant. “Really, man, I’m good.” 

Shidou’s expression remained unmoving. Very carefully, he informed him, “you’re bleeding. Pretty badly by the look of it. You’re coming with me.” 

Mikoto blinked. He looked over his shoulder, following Shidou’s gaze. The back of his uniform was torn across the center. A significant splotch of blood seeped into the material, growing even larger as he shifted to see it. 

“...Oh…” 

Back in Shidou’s cell, sad to have left his breakfast plate behind, he slumped into a chair. Shidou gathered together some supplies. As always, he got right to the point. “What happened?”

“I… I’m not sure. I don’t remember anything from last night. I don’t remember most nights, recently. I know that sounds crazy, but…”

“It’s fine. I have definitely heard crazier.” He smiled, something gentle and reassuring. As usual, there was something hidden behind his eyes. It was as if he already knew what Mikoto was up to late at night that earned him so much soreness the following days. He didn’t offer an explanation, though. Mikoto didn’t press him for one.

He winced as he was helped out of his uniform. Removing his shirt revealed the mysterious gash. Shidou’s eyes widened at the array of scratches and scars. Some were fresh, but most originated long before Milgram. Though he didn’t ask, Mikoto answered.

“I’m pretty clumsy, huh?” Maybe this time he would believe it. 

Shidou was kind enough to pretend to. “Here, allow me…”

Shidou got to work cleaning and dressing the injuries. Mikoto closed his eyes. Even though the disinfectant stung, and sometimes those gloved fingers pressed a little two hard, it felt nice to have things patched up. 

“Is there anything else going on? Are you feeling pain anywhere else?”

Mikoto could have laughed. He didn’t. “I’m just sore. And my head’s been killing me, but I’m used to migraines. Perks of the verdict, I’m sure.”

Shidou hummed in thought. 

“Thanks, by the way. I’ll try to be more careful.” Not that he had much choice in the matter, it seemed. But he’d do his best. 

Shidou kept his face straight, but there were traces of pain in his voice. “I will too. I’m sorry, Mikoto. If I had known… I’ve been distracted lately, but I should have paid closer attention.”

“It’s fine,” he flashed a grin. “I know the others are pretty fucked up. And I’m not dying or anything. I’m lucky, you know?”

“I wouldn’t say so. Doctors don’t only treat the dying.”

Mikoto frowned. 

It didn’t take much longer to finish treatment. Shidou gave him a few instructions about the bandages, then offered him a clean shirt. “You’re good to go. I’ll be checking in more often, now. I’ll see if I can find something for your head.” 

“Thanks. Really.”

He returned Mikoto’s torn uniform. “You should talk to Es about getting a new one. Until then, you’ll want to clean this with --”

Mikoto waved a dismissive hand, heading out of the cell. “Don’t worry, I know how to wash blood out of my clothes. Er, that sounds bad. I’m just a clutz, yeah? The blood’s always been my own.”

Maybe this time he would believe it.

#milgram #mikoto kayano #shidou kirisaki #im so fucked up over mikotos state rn :(( im pretty sure his vd is going to melt me into a little puddle on the floor on wednesday #id need to do more research on what doctors are supposed to do but i think shidou knows mikoto is in denial and wants him to work through #the realization on his own first instead of forcing it on him - and telling him wont stop the late night rampages in his cell #and youre right - theres not an easy cure for the stress headaches and all that anyway so theres only so much he can do #but yeah itd make sense that shidou (and the others) were genuinely too busy with the 12yo and dying patients to notice his condition... #sorry for having a shirtless mikoto moment 😭 i didnt want to pull a meme but it was needed for the prompt 😤 #i kept it in mikotos pov but when shidou mentions what doctors do hes having an internal crisis about if hes a good doctor rip #i do think mikoto only had one victim but still got into fights and stuff sometimes - hence others' blood on his clothes in the past #thank you so much for the request!! #the double hype has been Consuming me asdfsdf so this was a ton of fun to write ;-; #drabbles

[moki-dokie]

how to make 19 year old boy who came of age during the pandemic and never had a real real job before now realize he needs to Chill The Fuck Out and be Less eagar about working for free holy shit he is impossible to wrangle

#moki talks #hi i got dumped with a shitload of new responsibilities at work #one of which includes trying to teach a Virgin Employee how work life.. works #today i got asked a mindfuckery question that made me go #oh oh no he doesn't even know basic labor laws must get him sat down with hr like yesterday #do you wanna know what the question was #'so if you work more than 8 hours are you like required to take a lunch??' #CHILD PLEASE #i have told him no less than SIX times now to STOP. WORKING. OFF. THE. CLOCK. jesus christ #it is a CHALLENGE when this is all in a remote environment #sigh. i am not cut out for teaching kids #lawd i am trying tho #i guess in his defense there aren't labor law posters plastered everywhere to read during breaks/downtime #as there are in the typical workplace environment #idk man he's a good kid very smart tons of initiative but i have a feeling this aint the job for him #which really sucks cause its basically his dream job but #bruh i need you to get like 3-6 months minimum of real people customer service job skills #smh i am flabbergasted he asked me about the break policy he has 0 concept of the severity of labor laws #like no wonder states are pushing for child labor again NO ONE IS EDUCATING THESE KIDS ABOUT THEIR RIGHTS. FUCK.

[haitanisbug]

An one more thing bc I’m a hater tonight, I cannot stand CANNOT STAND ppl who were born in the south lived a great part of their life here and then move to a northern state. Y’all have the worst opinions, have this weird sense of superiority and ultimately you’re just dumb as fuck.

#first off… it’s like they THINK they have a free card to just shit talk everyone in southern states. as if everyone who lives in the south #is a lost cause and that we’re all unanimous. Northerners and ppl on the west coast do this all the time but it’s 10x worse when it comes #from someone who was born in the south because they just play into that rhetoric to separate themselves from those of us who still live here #Like I constantly hear ppl say say shit about how we should just cut off all the southern states because everyone is racist and uneducated #HUHHH ??? idk there are so many way to encourage progress and change and MAKE it happen here.. but instead people like to smear the ‘just #get rid of them all’ as if a lot of us here arnt victims of poor policy corrupt legislation too.. as if there arnt GOOD ppl here trying to #do good work. #and the ROMANTIZATION of everything SHITTY. dear lord #like just today I saw a tiktok where someone was saying they were jealous of their friends who got hit by the hurricane being they live in #the north now and are missing out on it???? WHAT ??!!! #people died from hurricane Ian??? I just saw today I think the total damage is up to #in the billions????? and not only will our state legislature do nothing about it .. we sent gonna receive a ton of funding from the #government either. whole fucking communities torn to shreds and this bitch is making a tiktok about how she has fear of missing out because #she didn’t go through a natural disaster?!!!!! #I am so done with ppl who move north #don’t ever come back here again with your dumb ass superiority driven opinions #bleh #tj.talks #prob delete this actually I’m just very mad

[ko-eko-ev-go-ms]

It continues to trip me up how much human brains are just weird organic computers

#thoughts #oni talks #oni vents #additionally wild that the easiest ways for me to explain brain stuff are generally in computer or video game terms despite the fact I’m #notoriously awful with computers (and to a lesser extent video games) although I won’t if my natural inclination would be different if I #didn’t have trauma related to computers/if maybe it’s the classic adhd interest based learning difference? unknown tbh #I still really wanna go to school to study people but academics is fucked as hell so making that work will be a personal hell for me #but also I have so many theories and data I can’t do anything super tangible with coz I’m not in an academic setting so even if i wanted to #talk about stuff and work on it no one would take me seriously w/o that academic background no matter how much effort I’d put in learning it #on my own for my entire life at this point it won’t matter if it’s not on some level acknowledged by an academic system I despise tbh #it’s one of those things that makes me miss my dad coz we used to commiserate together about these sorts of things tho he made it work far #better than I have been able to. i wish i could ask him science questions again. #anyway human brains are so fascinating but also I really wish I was better at explaining myself analysis of people I feel like I’m good #enough at this point to be like partway understood coz I’ve done so much practice on my own coz I tend to rehearse explanations ahead of tim #but its still often misunderstood or misconstrued & it’s understandable a lot of the time coz like most other people aren’t spending a ton #of their free time thinking about and researching how people work/analyzing those around them+themselves vs me whose been doing since like #I dont remember the exact time but I do remember being really young & making the conscious decision to study & analyze my family for example #so that I could be helpful & translate their words to each other better + ppl often don’t see things about themselves that others do #also forever thinking about the human brain/experience in relation to the sims & video game commands lmao #currently trying to explain save states in the human brain to ppl but no one knows wtf I’m talking about #& researching academic terms that are close to what I want doesn’t necessarily work if there’s no academic term for what I’m talking about #hence wanting to do the research myself coz sometimes it feels like there’s all this stuff that’s obvious to me but no one else?? from what #I’ve seen in recent studies they are only starting to scratch the surface of stuff I’ve already known sometimes? other stuff is older & it’s #VERY gratifying when it’s stuff I’ve known but not been listened to about & it actually gets the proper recognition #though getting ppl to actually listen/take what I say seriously is its own journey & I have to be careful myself bc I’m human so my own #understanding/data is constantly updating + I have storage issues so finding the data I have in my brain is its own struggle sometimes #every version of me is interested in people & I think that’s neat even if other people don’t understand that concept #sometimes I feel like an alien/robot whose sole task is just to study & support humanity & it’s very weird tbh

[seilon]

turned down from 2/2 jobs so far. doin Great

#kibumblabs #uggsggshddggshhfhfhfdhdhhf #I don’t even get why I was turned down from the event setup one when I definitely have the credentials for it #looks pretty good that my last job was guest relations at a festival and my major is fucking entertainment design #but whatever man #sigh #I just really wanted to work at a fancy hotel is that too much to ask #not sure what to do next but I guess I’ll jjst. #keep looking #also befor someone potentially says anything: my city doesn’t have a ton of luxury hotel options to choose from #despite being. an important city to the state. but. you know #there’s like two other ones and I’ll probably check those again but the one I wanted definitely outranks the others and the others didn’t #have as many job openings if I’m remembering correctly #hhhghghshhhhhh #man I was. really hopeful about this one. this fucking sucks #and the other one I got turned down from was as a fucking busser/dishwasher like who the fuck gets turned down. from that.

[theflowerrooms]

I have a request please 💜 I had the most random idea, Eddie and his gf who is quite shy and sweet, she makes one of those paper fortune teller things and uses it with Eddie, she uses it in a cute way, like to see how many kisses he will get and things like that but maybe Eddie then makes one of his own but his is not so innocent 😈 just basically him making a game out of ways he can please his girl..he will probably try get her to choose certain numbers too because he knows the answers beneath them 😅 but yeah just something fluffy and ofc smutty if you would like! Thankyouuuuu 🥰 love your work

•{to request} {Eddie’s masterlist} {my masterlist}•

Thirteen Kisses

Eddie Munson x innocent!fem!reader

Summary: for Eddie, you make a paper fortune game that buys you tons of kisses, for you, Eddie makes a paper fortune game that buys him the opportunity to make you feel as good as possible

wordcount: 2.2k

Warnings: Smut, Swearing, petnames, marking/hickeys, oral (f receiving), making out, unprotected sex

There was always a seat next to Eddie at the hellfire table in the cafeteria, and that seat was always reserved for you. That seat was also almost always empty, because each day, you opted to sit in Eddie’s lap rather than your own chair. He of course didn’t mind, the closer you were, the better. He loved nothing more than holding you and doting on you, his special girl.

“It’s called a fortune teller! But mine’s special and I made it just for us.” You grinned at your boyfriend, kicking your feet excitedly as you sat in his lap, leaning against his chest and showing him the fortune teller you made. “First you gotta pick a colour.”

Eddie rested his head against yours as he looked down at the paper origami in your hand. “Hmm… red.” He stated and you started to move the fortune teller in your hands, spelling out the word ‘red’. He caught on quick, and unprompted, he picked a number, 7, and you moved the fortune teller again, counting to 7. Finally, out of the visible numbers, he picked 2. You flipped it up and smiled.

“Thirteen! You gotta give me thirteen kisses.” You smiled before correcting yourself, “Unless you don’t wanna-”

“Shut up.” He laughed playfully and kissed you quickly, he only pulled back for a second before he was kissing you again. He kissed your lips five times, each cheek once, the tip of your nose, and then five more kisses on your lips. By the end of those thirteen kisses, you were both giggling a ton.

You raised the fortune teller in your hands once more. “Again?” You asked, and he was quick to comply, huge smile on his face.

  He picked the colour purple, then the number six, and finally the number four. "Eight kisses!" You were smiling from ear to ear, and Eddie was only able to match it himself.

  Of course he immediately complied, peppering seven kisses over your face and giving you one big wet kiss on your soft lips to finish it off. Your sweet laughter was music to his ears, he'd do anything to be able to hear it for the rest of his life.

"Now, how's this fair?" He spoke loudly, faking anger as he gently snatched the fortune teller from your hands. "Does it work for me to? Can I get kisses? Or... maybe only the princess gets kisses... No kisses for a lowly peasant like myself." He sighed dramatically and you giggled. He couldn't force the smile off of his face.

  You gently shook his wrist with your hand, "C'mon! You can get kisses too." You leaned your head against his shoulder, waiting a beat for him to figure out how to move the paper properly.

  "Pink!" "Three!" "Five!"

  Eddie leaned forward just slightly, pressing his chest into your side as he flipped up the paper. "Looks like... you owe me thirty kisses!" He exclaimed and placed the fortune teller on the table.

  You rolled your eyes and giggled, "That's not what it looks like- that said six kisses, not thirty." You pouted and he pouted back, leaning closer and closer to you.

  "Pretty sure it said thirty baby... what, you don't wanna kiss me thirty times?" He brought a hand up, gripping his chest dramatically.

  You groaned, entirely pleased and kissed him hard. You gave him kisses on the lips, cheeks, nose, jaw, and a couple on his neck, because you knew he liked that. You both smiled and you leaned your head against his, but all too soon your interaction was interrupted by Dustin gagging dramatically from his spot at the table.

  You pouted as you and Eddie turned to look at him. "Don't mind him baby, he's just jealous and lonely." Eddie rolled his eyes and gave you a big, loud kiss on your cheek.

  "Awe... I'm sorry Dustin. If you want you can use my fortune teller! You and Mike can give each other some kisses." You offered, so sweet and polite, seeming so kind that it was almost hard to tell you were joking. Eddie barked out a laugh, kissing you again. He loved watching the way your humour changed to become more like his.

✽-

  You yawned as you stretched out on your stomach, resting on Eddie's bed. You felt the mattress dip as he kneeled beside you. "Look, I got somethin' to show you." He spoke in a hushed tone. Excitedly, you sat up facing him, and smiled when you saw a new fortune teller in his hands. "I got Robin to show me how to make one, mines special too." He explained. You could tell by his face that he was up to something.

  There was a moment of silence, you and Eddie staring into each others eyes before you finally focused you're attention on the fortune teller. "Pink... Four... Seven." You watched Eddie move closer to you.

  "Hmm... you get to make out with me for five minutes." Eddie grinned wildly, holding up five fingers. He waited for you to smile back at him before he cupped your face, pulling you to meet his lips with your own.

It didn't take long before his tongue was pressing past your lips, Eddie's always been an eager kisser, and you loved being kissed by him. You hummed softly and he responded by moaning deeply into your mouth, the sound forcing heat to your core.

Five minutes went by fast. You were left with kiss bitting lips, slick with spit. Cheeks burning red, eyes glistening, and thighs pressing together. It didn't take much to get you there, excited and needy for your boyfriend. Eddie loved that about you.

Eddie sighed contentedly and gave you a free kiss on the cheek before he held up his fortune teller again. You squished your cheek against Eddie's shoulder. "Pink... three... one." You chewed your lip excitedly. '10 hickeys from Eddie' written in his nearly unreadable handwriting.

He smirked and placed the paper down, hand moving to the hem of your top where he pulled lightly. "Let's get this off of you pretty girl." He helped you take off your shirt, your bra followed quickly. A smile never left his face as he gently pushed you back against his pillows.

Normally, Eddie took his time working you up, placing kisses over every inch of your body that he could reach before he even thought about marking your skin. Today however, he jumped right into what the fortune teller told him to do, not wasting any time before he eagerly sucked a dark hickey onto the side of your throat.

  Like usual, he made a trail; three hickeys on the left side of your neck, one on your collarbone, one on your sternum. You weaved the fingers of your right hand through his hair as he began to kiss and suck the flesh of your right breast. He clearly enjoyed this just as much as you, soft hums against your skin and his evident boner pressing into your leg.

  Two hickeys on one breast and three on the other. You were breathing heavy, ready for him to just take you, just fill you up already. Your heart raced as he picked up the paper fortune teller again.

  "You know the drill baby." He smiled, his own cheeks flushed. It took you a moment to tear your eyes away from the bulge in his jeans and focus.

  "Blue... four... two."

  You watched intently as he flipped the paper up and read it to himself, an intimidating smirk growing on his face. "Get those shorts of baby- panties too."

  Immediately, you through your shorts and panties off of yourself and to the ground, resting back against the pillows. You wanted Eddie in you so bad, you couldn't wait.

  It took a second before you registered the fact that Eddie hadn't taken off any of his own clothes. By then, he was already on his stomach between your legs, licking a long stripe through your folds and stopping to lick at your clit.

  You moaned loudly, back arching and hands gripping Eddie's sheets beneath you. You hadn't expected him to eat you out, you'd expected him to fuck you. You wanted him to fuck you. But this, you were more than happy with this.

  Eddie spread your lips apart, admiring your wet cunt for a moment before he dove in, tongue driving inside of you. You whimpered loudly, pressing back against his face. His nose bumped against your clit over and over again and it was perfect, Eddie was always so talented at pleasing you with his mouth.

  "Feels s'good." You praised him and he moaned in response, trying to press himself closer to you if that was even possible. It felt so good as he fucked you with his tongue, your thighs shook on either side of his head. He moaned in response to every sound you let out and it shook your core. He always enjoyed giving you head just as much as you enjoyed receiving it.

  You could feel the beginnings of an orgasm building up, but you needed more attention on your clit. You grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled up gently. Of course he understood immediately what you wanted and he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking harshly.

  The mattress underneath you creaked as you writhed in pleasure, hand still tugging on Eddie's hair. You were pulling moans from him that tortured your sensitive clit and had your orgasm hurtling to you. "Eddie- god, Eddie please- gonna cum." You warned him, voice watery and desperate.

  He hummed in approval and that was that, your back arching incredibly high and your throat straining as you moaned loud enough that his neighbours could probably hear you. He kept licking you through your orgasm, then gentle kisses on your thighs and pussy as you came down from your high. "Thank you." You nearly whispered.

  "You are ever so welcome." Eddie grinned at you, moving to his knees as he wiped his mouth and chin off on his sleeve, cleaning his face of your juices. 

  You sat up slightly as he picked up the fortune teller again, you just wanted him to fuck you so bad. "Please, Eddie I jus' need you, need you in me so so bad." Your voice was thick with need, tears threatening your eyes.

  He smirked cockily at you, even though he wanted the same thing. "C'mon baby." He pointed the fortune teller, prompting you to pick a colour.

  "Uh, pink, two, um...-" You looked up at Eddie pleadingly.

  Eddie took sympathy on you, his sweet baby. "Out of curiosity." He started. "What's five plus three? I know you know, my smart girl."

  You smiled thankfully, excitedly. "Eight!" You started to sit up further but he put a hand on your shoulder, pushing you so you were laying back fully, you giggled.

  He flipped the paper up. "Hmm... seems like you're gonna get to cum on my cock after all." He tossed the paper beside you, watching hungrily as he stripped himself of his clothes.

  He wasn't taking his time and neither did you; you were both just desperate for one another. You were already so wet, and he did a good job getting you ready with his mouth, so neither of you were surprised when his cock slid inside you with no reluctance.

  You moaned, arms reaching around Eddie to hold him closer to you, nails digging into his shoulders. It only spurred him on even more, moaning into your neck as he fucked you as fast as he could.

  He'd been hard since making out, and he was about to blow his load embarrassingly soon. He sucked on the skin of your neck, already marked up from earlier, and reached a shaky hand down to your clit. The broken moan you let out almost had him cumming in you right then and there.

  "Eddie-" you moaned his name, resting your head against his as you arched your back, tits pressing against his chest. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming, he could feel you clenching around him repeatedly, he knew you were close.

  "Come on doll, cum for me, wanna feel you soak my cock, come on, c'mon-" you cut him off with a loud moan, close to a scream as you came, nails dragging down his back.

  Hearing you cum and feeling you claw up his back was enough to trigger his orgasm. His thrusts grew sloppy as the dam broke, cock twitching inside you.

  You whimpered as you felt the warm sensation of him cumming inside you, filling you up. He kept fucking you, through your orgasm and his own. You felt some of his cum drip out of you and he watched as he fucked it back inside, making sure not a drop was wasted.

  He stopped before either of you got too overstimulated, hovering over you, forehead pressed to the pillow next to your head. "Did so good baby." He kissed your cheek and you smiled, stroking his back gently.

  "Gonna help me make another fortune teller later? We squished this one..." he laughed and you did too. Of course you would agree.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #petalwrites #smut #fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #requested #innocent!reader #eddie munson x innocent!reader

[igotanidea]

Almost there: Anthony Bridgerton x reader

part 1: Too much

part 2 : Not enough

***

„One of those days you will get us both in trouble, Eloise.”

Due to some miracle, Y/N and her second-in-age sister in law managed to escape the watchful gaze of all, lady Danburry, Violet and Daphne, and rushed forward on the promenade. It was generally frowned upon, that the married lady strolled in the presence of a girl, who wasn’t even a débutante yet, but neither of those two seemed to take much interest in ton’s opinion.

“Trouble from merely speaking the truth?”

“Shall I remind you that this virtue is long forgotten in the society full of hypocrisy and deceit?” Y/N whispered taking Eloise’s arm to at least keep the pretences of being discreet. It would be unwise to let anyone else eavesdrop on the little exchange of words between close friends.

“It’s almost like you don’t trust me, my dear sister-in-law.” Eloise chuckled feigning the pompous tone.

“Please don’t ever call me like that again. You were my friend before you were my family. Don’t put the distance between us now. ”

“If anything I’d dare say I’m the reason you met with Anthony and –“ the sentence was cut out abruptly, as Eloise realised that Y/N was currently in the middle of a heavy argument with her husband. An argument that made her flee the house and turned out on the doorstep on the other Bridgerton’s house announced, in search for a friendly soul to talk to. And now she actually realised that all that may have been her fault from the beginning. If Y/N and Anthony have never met, they never would have fought and never—

“Stop overthinking it, dear.” The current viscountess chuckled observing her friend’s slightly hazy gaze and recognising it instantly. Clearly Eloise was getting lost in her own head.

‘Do not call me that!” the girl’s eyes became sharp and conscious again “I can hardly stand being called that affectionately by my mother, let alone by you.”

“Worked just as planned though.”

“Well, my biggest congratulations on being effective in the matter. You are almost as good at me with it.” 

“Oh, almost? From what I can recollect I taught you most of those tricks.” Y/N smiled brightly.

“Really?” Eloise raised an eyebrow “I can’t remember. Hey what do you say we run away from our chaperones and have a proper, meaningful discussion on what’s troubling you?”

“I wish it was that easy. But I’m a wife now and apparently –“

“Viscountess Bridgerton!” a sudden voice came from in front of them and Y/N felt like actually taking Eloise advice and rushing off. It was almost like the whole world decided to prey on her misery on that particular day. First lady Danburry, now lady Featherington. “How lovely to see you! Marriage serves you well. You are beaming, dear.”

Y/N gritted her teeth in hardly hidden annoyance at such obvious show of nosiness and lack of tact. She knew instantly that she had to cut the conversation short before another wave of unwanted questions about her blessed (or not) state would come.

‘Lady Featherington. Pleasure to see you there. Are your daughters accompanying you or are they occupied with their upcoming prenuptial agreements? I surely hope they would be as fortunate with their future husbands as I am with mine. And speaking of which, if you excuse me, I need to discuss a very urgent matter on the subject with my family.”She put an emphasis on two last word and not waiting for response, abandoning all the rules of the lady behaviour, tried to drag Eloise away almost sighing deeply in frustration.

„Oh, but viscountess, once Penelope weds Colin, we will be a family.” lady Featherington stopped both girls in their tracks before they managed to escape.

„I beg your pardon, what now?”

‘Oh, you didn’t know, viscountess? Your brother-in-law is about to marry my youngest daughter. By some miracle, clearly, since Penelope--” Portia started rambling without a care in the world.

„Oh I know about that part.” Y/N faked a smile that didn’t reach her eyes „I merely have the deep conviction that us becoming family is rather an improbable claim.”

„But--”

„Dearest lady Featherington, do not push my hand here. I would rather stay in amity with you. A very fragile alliance shall you pry into my private matters. I dare say you have a certain interest in using those bold statements? ”

„I beg your pardon?”

„The viscount, is still in the charge of his famliy’s - our family’s finances. And that shall include the future fortune of Colin. Shall you insist on intruding me during my leisure time I might have a word with my husband.”

„You truly do not  disgrace yourself with being modest, do you, Y/N? Has social advancement changed you so much? I clearly remember you being a scrawny child with no aspiration and position and look at you now. A snake in a sparkish dress.”

„She can at least choose the colour that highlights her beauty and doesn't make her look like--”

„Thank you Eloise.” Y/N cut her off before she could cause some more havoc. Lady Featherington was an onerousness but her gossiping nature was something Y/N did not need in the current situation. „I shall believe lady Portia will keep our little conversation in mind for the future purposes. Hers and her daughter’s.

„Actually if the viscount is around --”

„Unfortunately, matters of utmost importance kept him at home today.” Y/N responded with the most patience she could gather at the moment. There was always a possibility of farewelling the unwanted company, but as previously stated - there was no need of spreading the rumours of some discrepancies between the newlyweds. This hydra had to be beheaded immediately before the news spread throughout London.

„Such a shame you were left to tend for yourself then viscountess.”

„I shall believe I’d receive the most warm welcome back once my husband free himself of all the duties and occupations.”

***

While Y/N was having a lively discussion with indefatigable Portia Featherington, someone was observing her closely from behind the tree, staying unnoticed themselves.

 “Are you spying on her now?”

“I’m not spying!”

“Oh really? Then tell me brother, why on Earth would you hide in the bush instead of accompanying your wife on the promenade? If I were you –“

“Good thing you are not.” Anthony muttered grumpily keeping his eyes fixed on his wife’s silhouette. Even with her cheeks reddened from the indignation and eyes sparkling with cunning intelligence she was the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes on. If anything, those characteristic may have only been adding to her charm.

he viscount may not have heard all the words exchanged between two ladies, but the way Y/N was keeping lady Portia at bay, standing her own ground and not wavering in the slightest was admirable and worthy of a viscountess. Serving as a reminder that his wife was not a fragile bird who was - in his opinion- in dire need of his protection and care, but rather  a capable, strong woman, who would survive on her own.

Which brought him to another conclusion - that she didn’t rely on him as much as he expected her to. That she was proud enough to get the audacity to leave his home, leave him and decided (solely by herself!) to pay a visit to his sister.

“If I were you—“ Benedict grinned mischievously “I would run and drag Y/N away from Eloise before those two officially call you an idiot and make a plan for Y/N to leave you for good.” apparently the second son was capable of reading his older brother’s mind and pointing out all the worries that were already inside viscount’s head

“She would never.”

“I am unaware of the scope of your failure, but given the fact your wife rushed to Eloise, out of all the people must have been immense.”

“That’s it!’ Anthony hissed, almost crawling out from behind the tree, ready to clear this misunderstanding immediately.

***

„Oh, my dear!” Lady Featherington placed her hands on her hips as if she wanted to emphasize her higher position and knowledge of male-female relations. „Do not occupy yourself with the romance fantasies. Courtship is gone once the knot is tied. And after a child is born--” her gaze landed on Y/N’s stomach „you put all the efforts into keeping the family afloat and secure the future of the offspring.”

„I believe--”

„Viscountess, you are so young. So naive and innocent. Fed on the novels and stories.”

„Most of which cover the topic of history, literature and medicine rather than Shakespeare plays.” now the young woman was getting angry her cheeks flushing  „topics which I boldly presume are far from your interest.”

„I beg your-”

„I kindly forgive you, lady Featherington. Now if you excuse us - I shall wish you a good day.”

„I am not--”

„Lady Featherington.”

The sudden deep voice coming from behind made all the ladies turn around at once.

„Viscount.” Portia bowed slightly „I was just having a little chat with your wife.”

„Educating her on the specificity of marital relations?”

„Giving her some of the knowledge that her prematurely deceased mother - God rest her soul - did not have the opportunity to teach her”

„How kind of you.” Anthony almost smirked and Y/N had to muffle the chuckle forming in the back of her throat looking down. It was like she saw the old him. „However I suppose that once I am here, you shall be free of your educative duties?”

„I--”

„do not preoccupy yourself my lady. My wife shall not lack the company from now on.” having said that, Antony walked right to Y/N offering her an arm and - a sight truly unexpected - bid the older lady goodbye while leading the viscountess away.

„I didn’t need you to save me.”

„such a shame I happened to be around then.”

„My undoing indeed.”

„Unforunate event that you might have to keep the externals for the duration of a stroll.” Anthony held her tighter and closer to him while nodding head to the acquaintance.

***

„Did you gather some intel on the current situation of our brother and his lovely wife?” Benedict, who followed the two of them without any hesitation, asked Eloise.

„I am Y/N’s confidante, I shall never-”

„You cannot trick me sister.”

„Anthony is an idiot.”

„I had quite a feeling you would say something like that. Now- shall we interfere or remain passive observers as Antony makes a fool of himself begging for her forgiveness?”

Eloise smirked as they continued their following.

She and Benedict always understood each other without words.

Edit: part 4 Stuck

@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @cat-lockwood @pr3ttyfac3jaelyn

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic #bridgerton angst

[flamingbluepanda]

How to Camp for Beginners

Hello! Tis I, your local boy scout/girl scout/avid gay camper, here to give some top notch Advice™️ about camping! The season is nearly upon us and the woods are a callin' so let's get out there and be safe kiddos!

Before you Go!

Make sure you find a campsite you like and that fits your comfort level! There's ZERO shame in picking a place with cabins, public restrooms, showers, heated pools, hot tubs- whatever your looking for!

Once you pick your campsite, make sure you know the area around it- especially if camping somewhere your unfamiliar with! Example questions to make sure you know: Where's the local hospital? Where's the closest grocery store? Gas station? Are there rangers at your campsite and how do you get in contact with them? Does your campsite provide anything at all as a courtesy?

Also make sure you know the wilderness around you and prep accordingly -- if your camping in a site with bears during their non hibernating months, make sure you bring bear safe trash recepitecals if your campsite doesny provide them

Bring people with you. People you know and trust. Seriously, the buddy system saves lives. Do NOT camp alone unless you are an EXPERT and know the area EXCRUCIATINGLY well. This is also not the place to go with your new romantic partner/friend/friend or partners family -- some people are very good at pretending to be safe and getting you alone in the woods is when they stop pretending.

Pack layers. Make sure you bring at least one set of sweatpants and hoodie, bonus points if their insulated. It gets very cold at night in most wilderness locations, even in the summer.!

Bring at least one set of waterproof clothes, including rain boots and a waterproof coat.

Pack however many sets of underwear and socks you think you need to bring, then pack more. Bring an overwhelming number of socks

Bring good sneakers that are broken in but not worn out

Flashlight with extra batteries and a portable battery cube, fully charged

Make sure you have sunscreen and bugspray, your skin will thank yoi

While packing food, make sure you bring things that will last the trip in an insulated bag or cooler. Don't buy your ice until your close to your camp. Some campsites will even offer bags of ice at the ranger station!

Bring PLENTY of water. My brother always packs ten nalgenes full of water, others bring a big pack of water bottles. Stay hydrated!

If you're bringing a furry friend, make sure they are fully up to date on their rabies and Lyme shots

Pack In!

Make sure you have a full tank of gas when you arrive at your campsite

I personally like to leave my phone in my car while I camp. Bring books/art supplies/journals or whatever you do for fun -- if that's your phone and you have service, great!

Having said that, if you ARE having a technology free camping trip, pick one person in your group with the best phone and declare them the emergency phone person

Best doesn't mean newest -- your friend who hates capitalism and has a Nokia that can survive nuclear fallout should be picked over your friend with the brand new super fragile iphone

Make sure the emergency phone remains fully charged and comes with you when you leave the campsite. Most emergency calls will work without cell service, but a dead phone can't make calls

Make sure you get the rangers number! Rangers are your friends, they want you to have a safe trip and are there for all your questions!

Also make sure to respect the rules of whatever campsite you're at -- if you're on boy scout property for example, you absolutely CANNOT bring alcohol. If you're having a fun adult camping trip, make sure you know the weed laws in that state before your puff and pass.

While setting up your campsite, try to find somewhere dry, that's not located near the bottom of a hill or next to a river.

Try to find places that don't have a ton of loose rocks or dirt, but where the ground is soft enough to nail in stakes for tents/canopies

Most campsites will have an assigned area with a fire pit, but if yours doesn't, make sure you collect enough rocks to build a fire circle before roasting any s'mores!

If your campsite doesn't let you bring cars past a certain point, make sure you know the fastest and safest route to the parking lot

I cannot stress how important it is to make sure you know the emergency numbers -- if theres a medical emergency, you may not be able to get someone to the car. Rangers will have ATVs and paramedics will have the skills to get people out of situations

Make sure your first aid kit is well packed with plenty of bandaids antiseptic and gauze- triangle bandages are also a versitle tool that can help with sprains splints and holding bandages in place. Preferably bring someone who knows at least basic first aid or CPR -- if you can't find a friend with that knowledge, make sure to be extra nice to the rangers

Bring an extra large bottle of your preferred over the counter painkillers -- dehydration and too much time in the sun can cause headaches! Also nifty for twisted ankles or sore backs from sleeping on the ground.

If you forgot your tent stakes, that's okay, put a spare cooler/bag/something heavy in the center of your tent to weigh it down in case of high winds.

If you forgot your rain canopy, a ripped trashbag will work in a pinch, but be warned: it's gonna get hot as HELL in that tent

During your Trip

Sunscreen and bugspray every day- even cloudy days have high UV rays, melanoma kills

Whether cooking on portable grill or campfire make sure your meat is fully cooked.

Chopping your produce and meat and cooking them in two separate packets of tin foil makes delicious meals, plus it's easy to check how done it is

Speaking of fires, make sure you have fireproof gloves and tongs if cooking over a campfire

Zip tents if rain is predicted but believe me, tents are like fucking hot boxes, so try to get as much air movement as you can.

If your campsite doesn't have latrines/portapotties/bathrooms (and you didn't bring one) be a good friend and make sure your camp's designated potty site is down wind of your camp. Also, human droppings can attract animals, so make sure it's a good distance away

(seriously though consider bringing a porta potty they make ones for campers)

CHECK FOR TICKS!!!! CHECK FOR TICKS EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU CAN!!!

Ticks like warm, dark places, so make sure you check behind your knees, under your arms, the back of your neck, in your socks and your privates! Ladies- that includes under the boobies. Wearing long pants, high socks, or long sleeves can be a simple and efficient tick deterrent, especially in marshy areas or tall grass. Don't forget to check your pets if they came with you!

If you find a tick, get some tweezers, grasp as close to the skin as you can, and slowly but firmly pull down on the tick- remember, you want the head out. You can also use a credit card or any other dull edge to help push downward.

Wet feet cause blisters, so always wear socks and change them often. If you get a blister, DONT POP IT, cover it with a bandaid or surround it with moleskin

Hydrate hydrate hydrate hydrate, drunk water every fifteen minutes even if your not thirsty

Remember to respect the nature around you- don't go pulling leaves off trees or disturbing animal dens, stay away from pretty much any animal- yes, even deer, bucks can and will gore you If frightened enough, deer can tramble you and even the cutest little Birdy can carry rabies and other diseases.

Poison Ivy has three leaves, poison oak looks like a strangling vine, and poison sumac has berries. Make sure you know what grows in your camping area.

If you brought a pet, don't let them eat any plants!

Make sure to use the buddy system especially if someone starts feeling ill- a lot of really dangerous illnesses start out looking a lot like colds and flu

Make sure to have a bucket of water next to your campfire, and every night make sure to completely douse your fire before turning it. Splash water on instead of dumping and make sure every ember is out- remember, only you can prevent wildfires

If you brought a gas powered generator for your campsite, make sure it's as far away as possible from the fire pit. Also, they're quite loud, so maybe don't put it near your tent. Put it on the outskirts of the campsite and don't leave it running when you're not there

Pack out!

LEAVE NO TRACE!!! make sure you clean up ALL your litter, all of it, every single one. Check and triple check your entire camp site.

Make sure everyones tent poles and stakes end up with the correct tent- you'd be surprised how brand specific stuff like that is.

Especially don't leave any food items -- there's likely going to be another person filling that campsite soon, they don't need moldy food attracting critters!

If there's a sign out sheet, don't forget to sign out at the ranger station! If they had to evacuate the campsite for whatever reason, they'll need to know you're gone!

Do a final tick/other bug check- you don't need to be bringing bugs home with you! Also check that there are no critters are in your supplies -- this sounds obvious, but you'd be surprised where snakes and mice can end up.

Give your pets an extra good bath when you get home. You don't know what could've gotten stuck in their fur!

Tick/spider bites tend to look like bullseyes. If you develop bullseye shaped rashes after you get home, seek medical attention.

Most of all, have fun and be safe!!!

#camping #advice #adulting

[an-spideog]

Don't Use Duolingo if You Really Want to Learn Irish

That title is a bit dramatic, but I really don't think that duolingo is a useful tool for Irish, especially in its current state, so I want to talk a bit about why, and I'll also talk about some alternatives.

Pronunciation

The first and most egregious issue is that at some point recently-ish, duo decided to start using Text-To-Speech for their Irish course, rather than recordings of a native speaker. The problem here is that their TTS is not trained on native speakers of Irish and pronounces words incorrectly. It doesn't make consistent distinctions between broad and slender consonants for example.

Irish has no standard pronunciation, so I understand how it can feel weird to choose just one dialect for the purposes of pronunciation (the old recordings were from a speaker of Galway Irish), but having just one dialect is much better than TTS which sounds like a learner, imagine if they had TTS for the French course which sounded like an anglophone schoolkid trying to pronounce french, and claimed they were teaching you how to speak french!

Grammar

Duo tends to be correct on grammar at least, which is a start. But often people using it get very confused about the grammar because duo doesn't explain any of it. I think there's a place for immersion in language learning, and I don't think everything has to be explained like that, but within duo's system of sentence testing and exercises like that, not having any explanation for why it's "mo chóta" and not "mo cóta" can be really confusing. Duo used to have more grammar information, it's a shame that they removed it, I wonder why they did it.

Money and Motivation

Duolingo is a business, and their motivation is not to help you learn a language 'fully', but to keep you using their app and hopefully have a higher chance of sharing it with others, competing with others, buying or causing others to buy memberships or lingots or any other in-app purchases.

I don't want to make it out like duo is some big conspiracy and they're tricking people, I don't think that's the case, but it's good to remember that their primary motivation is to keep people using the app, rather than help people move to a level in a language where they don't need the app anymore.

Keep this in mind whenever you see people trying to sell you stuff for language learning.

Why do people use Duolingo

I do get it, and I don't want to make anyone feel bad for using duo, there's a ton of reasons people tend towards it at first 1. It's really well known, so especially if you're learning a language and haven't heard of other resources for it, you'll check duolingo 2. It's very motivating for a lot of people, checking in every day and forming that habit is a really good way of sticking with a language 3. It's fun, people enjoy it

If you use it for reason 3. and you still like it, then don't worry about this post, I'm not trying to yuck anyone's yums, keep having fun!

If you use it for reasons 1. or 2. you can still keep using it if you like, but I want to suggest some other things which you might find helpful in trying to get to a higher level in Irish.

Other Resources

To address the pronunciation issue, I'd heavily recommend you disregard the pronunciation in duolingo, if you're looking for more reliable sources of pronunciation, I'd look towards recordings of native speakers, you can find that on:

Teanglann and Foclóir (they use the same recordings)

Fuaimeanna

and a really useful and underused one: https://davissandefur.github.io/minimal-pairs/ where you can hear the difference between similar sounds that English speakers often mix up in Irish.

A lot of people like duolingo because it's nice to have a clear path forward, a progression that you can get into without too much decision-making. For this I recommend getting a good textbook or course and working through it, the ones I'll recommend also have native speaker audio on them.

Learning Irish by Mícheál Ó Siadhail, this book teaches Galway Irish, not just in pronunciation but in grammar too. It's quite dense but it's well thought out and well explained.

Teach Yourself Irish (1961) this book is available for free online, and is a really good option if you're interested in Cork Irish (Munster), and have some experience with grammatical terminology. I used this book myself and really liked it, but it's very intense and not for everyone. (If you do end up using it, feel free to skip the appendices at the start, they're more of a reference and sometimes put people off from actually getting to the first chapter. Also if you have any questions about it or need any help just let me know.)

If you want a video course, there's a great course called "Now You're Talking" which is available for free online, along with audio files and worksheets here. It features Donegal Irish and leads into the more intermediate level course called Céim ar Aghaidh also available online.

There's other textbooks that I have less experience with (Buntús na Gaeilge, Gaeilge/Gramadach Gan Stró, etc.) but if they work for you, stick with them, there's nothing worse than not making progress because you keep switching resources trying to find the "perfect one"

Whether or not you continue to use Duolingo, I would really really encourage you to try engaging with media in Irish. People often shy away from this when they're learning because they don't feel like they're "ready" yet. But you basically never feel like you're ready, you just have to try and find something near your level and try to get comfortable with not understanding everything. This is where you learn a huge portion of the language, you hear how things are pronounced you see what words mean in what contexts, getting input in your target language is so important!

I know content can be kind of hard to find, so I'll make a few recommendations here: There's a wealth of content available for free online (more if you're in ireland but some internationally) on TG4 If you're still starting out, I'd recommend trying to watch some kids shows since they'll have simpler language and will be easier to follow. I wouldn't recommend using English subtitles when you watch them. Some good options include:

Dónall Dána: an Irish dub of Horrid Henry, silly and childish but the actors have good Irish and importantly the show has Irish language subtitles, they don't always match but if you're still beginning and can't necessarily get everything by ear, they're really useful. (Mostly Galway Irish)

Curious George: another dub, again with Irish language subtitles (I can't remember what dialects were in it off the top of my head but I'd assume mostly galway again)

Seó Luna: No subtitles, but a good option if you're aiming for Munster Irish, the lead character has Kerry Irish

Miraculous: No subtitles but a better show than most of the other kids' ones and more bearable to watch as an adult (Mostly Galway Irish)

Ros na Rún: Moving away from kids shows, a long running soap opera, this has Irish subtitles and a really good mix of dialects within the show. If you're finding the kids shows boring or too easy I'd really recommend it, but it can be complex because of the amount of characters, dialects, and plotlines. I'd recommend starting at the beginning of a newer season and just trying to catch on to what's happening as you go.

There are a lot of books, if you live in Ireland you can get nearly any Irish book for free from a library, so please check out your local library or request some of these from other libraries in the system:

There's a series of fairytales (Rápúnzell, Luaithríona etc.) by Máiréad Ní Ghráda which are illustrated and for children, which are a really good option for when you're just starting out reading

There's kids books about Fionn and the Fianna by Tadhg Mac Dhonnagáin

There's a cute little kids' book in Kerry Irish about a cat named Mábúis

Leabhar Breac has a lot of graphic novels, some of them based on Irish mythology, some on other stuff. The fact that they're illustrated can make it a lot easier to follow even if you don't understand all the words at first.

Gliadar has just released their Scott Pilgrim translation

If you're looking for something a bit more advanced you can look at some of the books for adult learners by Comhar, they contain simplified language and glossaries but have full original adult stories.

And if you're wanting full, natural, native-level Irish there's a load of books by those same groups, and others like An Gúm, Cló Iar-Chonnacht, Oidhreacht Chorca Dhuibhne, Éabhlóid, Coiscéim, and more.

And don't shy away from older books written in Seanchló either, they can be more challenging but it's a whole extra world of books

If you're trying to improve your listening comprehension, I definitely recommend listening to shows on Raidió na Gaeltachta, hearing native Irish speakers talk at full speed is really good practice. But I get that it can be overwhelming at first. Here are some things you can do as you build up to that:

Watching those same TV shows I mentioned without subtitles is a good way to build up listening skills.

Vifax is a website where you can practice listening to short news segments and answer questions on them, then getting to look at the transcript with notes afterwards.

Snas is kind of the evolution of vifax, now using clips from both the news and Ros na Rún.

I really hope that this post can help people move away from duolingo if they're looking to take their Irish learning to the next level, if you've got any questions, just let me know!

#gaeilge #irish language #irish #irish langblr #gaelainn #learning irish #as gaeilge #duolingo #resources

[blissfullyapillow]

┃Genshin + HSR men as spiderman (+ your boyfriend)

₊˚⊹♡ Various x gn reader

₊˚⊹♡ wc: 7,189

₊˚⊹♡ warnings: Baizhu. Alhaitham’s part is suggestive but nothing explicit. Caelus’ part contains a ton of references to various things (one of them being your option to choose between Caelus or Stelle when you start HSR). Overall fluffy scenarios w/ your boyfriend (who is also Spiderman) :> 

₊˚⊹♡ Pillow Talks: Some parts are proofread others aren’t (for once) because I wasn’t feeling up to it. I intentionally put Baizhu under warnings it's not a mistake, I thought I was being funny doing that lol. Ngl Caelus’ part is my fav <3 !! I have a ton of drafts I’ll eventually complete, life is just a lot for me rn. I love you all ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ ♡ <3

₊˚⊹♡ Masterlist

Alhaitham ✮ ๋ ࣭ ⭑ 〃

always has headphones on. Even when he’s fighting. He’s literally never seen without them

He’s been offered to do collaborations with many companies to make a model of headphones off the one’s he usually wears. He never accepts, unless it’s for his go to brand.

All villains know to leave spidey’s headphones alone. The last villain who broke his old pair didn’t make it out of the fight alive.

That wasn’t a joke.

Anyway, most people don’t ask about his headphones, rather reporters are always at their wits end since they can never get an interview out of him. Not even a brief still shot of him.

Hell, most people don’t even know what he sounds like.

For the most he’s a man of few words, but when he does speak? You’ll wish he hadn’t.

Very sassy. Has the best retorts and the most vile insults.

His suit is really cool too, and very practical.

He’s a college student when he isn’t spiderman. He’s scarily efficient at juggling his part time superhero duties along with his heavy college workload. Maybe it’s because he gets all his work done way in advance? Who knows.

He’s super gentle whenever he’s rescuing civilians. At most, he’ll say a word or two in response to their gratitude. Something along the lines of “yeah.” Or “It’s no problem” if you’re lucky. Most people don’t try to make conversation anyway. As stated before, he’s really good at dodging not only reporters but cameras in general.

So, imagine your surprise when he actually stops walking away after you’ve asked him what he’s listening to. You can’t see his face, but his spidery eyes widen comically in shock.

No one has ever asked him that before. You’d think someone would, but no one has.

So, he indulges you. “I’m not listening to anything at the moment. Sometimes I’ll have music playing, but for the most part I tend to use these just to block out noise. Plus, people tend to leave you alone when they see you have headphones on. It also makes for an adequate excuse to pretend I don’t hear people speaking to me.” Your mouth drops in pure shock at the fact that spiderman not only spoke to you, but he’s also.. very.. interesting.

Oh, he likes that look on your face. You can’t see it, but he has a huge smirk on his face underneath that mask.

Alhaitham recognized you from campus. Of course he was quick and efficient with moving you to safety before he took care of the danger, but he couldn’t return you to ground level until after the fight.

Speaking of fighting, he’s really good at it. His movements are calculated and precise. You made a mental note never to get on spider man's bad side as you watched him clock the villain square in the jaw, with no regard for whether they retain consciousness or not.

“I’ll see you around.” Is all he says now, before he web slings away. Wait, see you around? But he’s spiderman!

Little did you know that spiderman was your hot, intelligent classmate you had a raging crush on.

Lucky for you, it seems he may develop feelings for you too.

𓆩♡𓆪

“I thought I told you to leave your window unlocked? I’d hate to be spotted.” Alhaitham scolds you as you unlock your window for him, and he effortlessly slips into your abode.

“I’m sorry, but I like hearing your cute little knocks on my window. It’s the highlight of my day.” Alhaitham sighs, as if he’s annoyed, but in reality your words cause his heart to flutter.

Once he’s inside he slips off his mask and stretches his fit body. He catches sight of your lingering, fixed gaze. He smirks as he purposefully flexes his arms for you. Your head whips around, looking away as if he hadn’t caught your ogling.

“It seems like someone missed me.” His knowing words result in a click of your tongue. Yet, you find yourself melting in his warm embrace as he wraps his arms around you from behind. You’re a goner when he buries his face into the crook of your shoulder. He presses a kiss there.

As his lingering lips trail along your sensitive skin, you ask him your usual question. “What are you listening to?” He hums in contemplation as he thinks. “To the sound of your voice.” You suck in a breath, and he smiles.

That question is something of a routine between the two of you. You always ask him, ever since you learned of his identity during one of his canon events. His response will change depending on his mood, and it’s a good indicator of his current mood.

If he gives you an actual song, it’s an easy way to tell depending on the tone and meaning of the song. Otherwise, if he replies with “Nothing.” He’s either tired or on the verge of breaking. Usually it’s both, since he says the silence helps him think.

Now, if he responds with something sweet, like “The sound of your voice,” he either wants to cuddle or…

The firm press of his hand as it trails along your inner thigh is answer enough.

You feel heat warm the expanse of your body, but you pretend not to notice. “I thought you said class drained you earlier today?” You try to distract yourself with conversation. Alhaitham’s hand only travels up further. “It did. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, yet I was stuck listening to the professor droning on and on about a topic I’ve already read extensively about. Now, I can finally do what I’ve been wanting to do to all day long.” Alhaitham’s voice is rough, and his breath grazes the shell of your ear.

“Okay…” Is your eloquent response. You know if you turned around, you’d be met with that knowing smirk of his.

“Now, will you help me relax? Being spiderman is draining after all, and not being able to touch you the way you deserve all day has made me really tense.”

You have no objections when his fingers finally reach the place you’re craving it most.

🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓

ᐟᐟ☆ Caelus .✮𖦹‪‪ ₊˚

Radiates the most Gen Z vibes it’s insane

Up to date on everything and anything pop culture related. Whether it be old or new.

A theater went into a frenzy when fans realized spider man was in the same theater watching Five Nights at Freddy’s with them

He was upset since he had to slip out and watch the movie at home on Peacock instead.

Anyway, he’s a real sweetheart. He always makes time to stop and help older individuals cross streets, helps children find missing items, and he’ll even give some citizens a lift to a place they’re running late to.

Well, he stopped doing that last one after the incident. … That was his second canon event.

He became spider man when a woman named Kafka purposefully had a mutated spider bite him. He doesn’t recall too much before that, and he’s not sure why he can’t, but that’s a part of his journey. To discover himself and put together pieces of his past.

He still occasionally runs into Kafka and her companions, but for the most part he’s still developing his own opinion of her.

He’s a ball of energy most days. Reporters love him since he’s always so receptive and open to their questions.

Yet, he has his moments. Some nights, if you look to the right building, you’ll spot a lone figure on top, staring into the vast night sky. On those nights, he imagines a life where he travels those skies, exploring what the universe has to offer. Maybe there are other planets out there? What if he could visit them, and experience intergalactic adventures?

Oh well. Maybe in another timeline. He isn’t a nameless traveler here after all.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, you’ve bumped into each other on countless occasions when he’s in his civilian form. Actually, you two are very close friends.

He’s debated with himself many times. Should he tell you the truth? Time and time again his answer was no, and for many reasons. One, Kafka clearly has a close eye on him, and he isn’t sure of her intentions yet. Two, he doesn’t want you needlessly worrying about him. Unfortunately, you already do.

So it honestly doesn’t come as a surprise when you stumble upon him during a particularly hard moment in time, and he lets it slip that he’s spiderman and he’a struggling.

Thankfully, you’re just the support he needed.

Now, he has a safe space. A person who feels like home in a place where he truly has none. And he’s eternally grateful to you for it.

As for you, he’s your personal ray of sunshine. You’re overjoyed you can play such a prominent role in his life, and you don’t love him any less for being spider man. If anything, you somehow worry less about him…?

It’s honestly hard when you watch him overcome many impossible odds. He even accumulates new powers every now and again! He’s really strong, mentally and physically, so it eases your worries at times.

Even if he does need a shoulder to lean on, as you often do, you’re more than happy to be that shoulder for him.

Honestly, it’s a good thing he has you. His future canon events look pretty… rough. Especially the one where he meets himself from a parallel universe. You know, the one where he’s a star instead of the sky.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Oh my gosh Name look! They even have my bat in the game!” Caelus happily swivels around in his chair to look at you, frantically pointing to his pc monitor all the while.

You look at the screen, and sure enough there’s a scarily accurate model of your superhero boyfriend in the game, currently performing a silly dance move.

“Ah.. I see..” Is your response. You really think it’s cool, but you want to tease him a bit. You struggle to contain your grin when he pouts at your lack of enthusiasm. “I thought you’d think it was cool….” You can only chuckle as you run soothing fingers through his soft locks.

“I do sweetheart, I do.” Your words make him visibly light up, and he practically jumps out of his chair to wrap his arms around you.

“Speaking of, I have something else I want to show you…”

Que a fun midnight outing on top of the tallest building overlooking the whole city.

“Wow.. this is beautiful..” Your eyes shine as bright as a dying supernova as you gaze upon the beautiful landscape before you.

Caelus is beaming with pride, glad he was able to surprise you like this.

“Yeah, I stumbled upon this view after a particularly hard battle.” He hums in content as he leans back, pulling you into him.

You rest your head against him, his chest a comfortable pillow.

You can feel his steady heartbeat beneath your ear, and it’s a soothing melody.

“Thank you for sticking by me all this time.” The words are a gentle caress against the shell of your ear, yet they cause your heart to ache.

“You don’t need to thank me for that, silly. I love you, and when you love someone and they’re good for you, you stand by them. No matter what. Yeah?” You gently pat his chest.

He smiles.

“Yeah.”

He’s silent again, and a comfortable atmosphere wraps around the two of you like a warm blanket right out of the dryer.

That is, until he decides to open his mouth.

“Don’t get too comfortable. I might just push you off.”

…

He looks at you to gauge your reaction.

Absolute horror is written on your features.

He loves it. It sends an electrifying thrill through him; he loves to tease you too.

“You’re getting too out of hand with these jokes of-“

His lips steal the rest of your words, and you allow it.

The city paints a magical backdrop for your moment of intimacy.

🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓

Jing Yuan ⁞ ⟡ ⚡︎ ♡⸝⸝ 🕷 

This spider man is always accompanied by his cat, Mimi.

He rescued her during a particularly rough encounter. He tried to send her off after ensuring she was safe with authorities, but she refused to leave his side. Now, he already had a soft spot for cats, so it was a no brainer to him

Mimi has accompanied him ever since, and she even has her own little mask and everything.

Little does he know that the ‘cat’ he saved was really just another one of the smuggled exotic animals those crooks tried to sneak into the city. Mimi will no longer fit in that backpack of his in a few months time.

He’s really lazy, honestly. He calls it conserving energy, but really he will only intervene when it’s called for or if the situation is rapidly turning dire

He has many admirers. Pictures of blurry glimpses of his suit sell for hundreds, if not thousands of dollars, online

So, so many fan edits of him. And he’s seen ‘em all. He’s secretly really smug about it, but he keeps that to himself

He has a commanding presence, and an air of elegance about him. It almost feels like his fighting is an art of sorts. It’s fascinating to see the creative ways he’ll use his webs to get the job done.

Mimi has plushies, courtesy of collaboration with spiderman.

He bought the pre-orders for her plush and a few more when the official drop released

So, how did you end up with a man like Jing Yuan? Gorgeous, handsome Jing Yuan who's also a renowned general?

Simple. You're his personal alarm clock.

No. Literally. You were asked to wake him up after he fell asleep on the job again, as everyone else had grown tired of the task, and that was the beginning of an.. interesting dynamic.

The best part about it? One day you arrived a bit earlier than your usual time to wake him up, only to find the infamous spider man frantically urging Jing Yuan’s cat, Mimi, into a backpack.

Long story short, now you not only have to deal with waking him up, but you also have to deal with a clingy boyfriend who isn't afraid to his webs against you

𓆩♡𓆪

“Jing Yuan! I told you, this meeting is important and it’s imperative that-“

He blatantly ignores you as he webs the door shut, and now you’re stuck with him in his office.

“Mhm. I understand. Now come here, I miss you.” His stupid smile makes your heart race as he opens his arms, welcoming you in.

Ah, what the hell.

You all too easily bend to his whims. You quickly find yourself in his arms, snuggled against his warm body.

“That’s much better sweetheart. See? This isn’t so bad is it?” You abhor his teasing, yet all the same it sends a thrill through you.

“Shut up. I better not get in trouble because of you.” You sigh. “No one would dare say anything to you. If anyone ever does, I will personally tend to the matter.” His voice is tense, along with his statement, but all you feel is his thick hair tickling your cheek as he nuzzles his head against you.

A goofy smile spreads across your lips, and soon you forget all about the meeting as you enjoy each other’s embrace.

An adorable sound comes from Mimi, lounging somewhere in his office you assume. The usual.

“By the way, are we still on for dinner later?” Your question evoked a chuckle out of Jing Yuan.

“I wouldn’t miss dinner with you for the world.” “Not even if your spidey duties call?” Your quip causes an adorable pout to form on his lips.

“My ‘spidey duties’ can wait until I’m full and satiated. You mean more to me than you know, my sweet angel.” His words warm not only your heart, but your soul.

You completely lose track of time in his arms.

So it comes as quite a shock when obnoxious knocking can be heard on his office door. You know, the one that’s currently webbed shut?

“Jing Yuan!!”

Ah, Diviner Fu. She knows all too well that you’ve failed yet again to lure Jing Yuan out of his office.

“Ah, looks like dinner has arrived sooner than we expected sweetheart.” You squeal when he suddenly sits up with you still in his arms.

He uses his webs to grab his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder as Mimi hops in, used to this ordeal.

“Remember to hold on tight, okay?” He murmurs the words against the shell of your ear, before he slips on your own little mask over your face. Just as a precaution, though he’s really good at staying hidden whenever he’s with you.

“Off we go.”

And with that, you two sling out of the window of his office, leaving an exasperated Fu Xuan behind.

🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓

♡ ┃ Kaedehara Kazuha ‧.°˖➴

He is the amazing spider man

Like, he’s the ultimate spider man. He’s kind yet deadly, and very friendly.

He’s as swift as the wind, and he actually travels with a sword. You’ve never seen Spiderman incorporate sword play in with his webs? Well, you’re in luck! Kazuha does this at a masterful level. He made it into a sort of art form as well. At the end of his fights he’ll always create beautiful imagery using his sword, carving out complicated shapes and scenes with his webs. It’s kind of like a signature of his

He’s pretty good at balancing his civilian and hero life. Although he may get caught up with things if unexpected incidents occur, which lets be honest, it happens all the time when you’re spider man

He’s genuinely so sweet, and it’s easy to see through his actions. The public loves him. He has loads of admirers.

After a very traumatic incident involving a close friend of his, he experienced a period of grief and depression

He got back on his feet eventually, and he awakened new powers within him! Well, that would be the only explanation for why he was suddenly able to use electricity during combat with a particularly strong villain

Not only does he use a sword but now he has the ability to wield electricity?

Once word of spider man’s new powers spread, the number of crimes that were committed went down drastically. Literally. Statistically crime rates decreased by 25% the following week. 25%. Your usual run of the mill people were too afraid to do anything after witnessing the devastating beating Kazuha gave to a particular individual

To be fair, he was late to your date because of them. He wasted no time, defeating that villain within mere seconds before frantically webbing away to meet you

Speaking of dates, Kazuha enjoys going on many dates with you.

From indoor cozy dates to public outings, typically walks through nature, Kazuha’s favorite past time is the time he spends with you

He often leaves you handwritten notes before he leaves, ranging from eloquent poetry of his feelings for you, to short blurbs of how your eyes make it physically impossible for him to focus on what you’re saying. (He felt bad because he got lost in your eyes while you were describing your Christmas decorating plans to him)

Overall, Kaedehara Kazuha is a model spider man. Kind and caring, yet swift and fatal when the situation needs him to be.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Kazuha, I told you I forgive you already!” You giggle despite your exasperation. Kazuha disregards your statement as he places fleeting, soft kisses on your person.

He starts with your hand. He holds your hand delicately, treating you as if you’re porcelain. He places a kiss to the back of your hand before his lips slowly trail up your arm.

Your heart melts at the tender gesture, all the while your body lights aflame with his burning gaze. His piercing orbs hold your gaze as his lips make their leisure ascent.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him even if you willed it.

“I promised you I wouldn’t be late to our date this week, but I was. You have my sincerest apologies, my love.” You feel his lips move as he murmurs the words against your skin.

“No need to be all formal. We’ve been together for how long now?” You murmur the words in embarrassment, as Kazuha’s lips now brush along your neck, teasing you.

“Hmm.. if I recall correctly, today would make five years correct?” You nod your head, yet your eyes drift shut as Kazuha playfully teases the skin of your neck with his teeth.

“Y-Yeah.. so..” Your mind is blank. You completely forgot the point you were trying to make.

You have a feeling that was his goal all along.

His lips finally reach their destination; his eager lips meet your parted ones.

You groan as he draws you closer, placing a firm hand on the back of your head. His kiss almost feels a bit desperate; his lips mold with yours in perfect sync as his free hand explores the expanse of your body.

When he finally parts from you, you take desperate gasps of air. His state isn’t much better; his lidded gaze roams your body as he takes deep breaths.

“Kazuha…” “hmm?” He smiles, a lazy, slow smile, and you know you’re not letting him leave any time soon.

“I.. um.. oh! I was going to say, before you rudely distracted me..” He chuckles at that, tracing the contour of your face with a finger as you continue to scold him. “It wasn’t your fault you were late. The police force needed backup and-“ His lips capture yours again.

You reluctantly press against his chest, gently pushing him away.

You pout.

He winks at you.

“I know, but it still took away from our precious time together. I wanted to make it up to you by arriving early today, but I wasn’t able to fulfill that desire.” He sighs, and his finger moves from your face down to your neck, lower to your collarbone.

“I promise you it’s okay, Kazuha. I understand. Although, if you really want to make it up to me…” This time, your gaze is the heated one as you skillfully unravel his ponytail.

He sucks in a breath at your action. “I have another desire that you most certainly can fulfill.”

“Ah, I like the sound of that.”

Lucky for you, he is more than able to fulfill that desire of yours.

🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓

‧₊˚ ┊Shikanoin Heizou ⚖✮⋆˙✦

Public menace #1

He drives the police force crazy because he always solves all the cases before they can get to the bottom of it. He does so not only as spider man, but as his civilian self too.

He can be a bit of a flirt when he has the mask on.. well, ‘a bit’ is an understatement, but he doesn’t just flirt with everyone!

He really only flirts with you, honestly, yet you reject him time and time again. He was a bit puzzled, since he knows how flustered you get when he flirts with you without the mask. Maybe it’s because you don’t know it’s him? He’ll have to test that theory

Using his detective skills he quickly deduces that it was because you have a crush on him. Him. Not spider man.

He knows of your intense loyalty, so of course you wouldn’t entertain his flirting, even if the individual flirting with you is the spider man.

Once he figured that out, oh how much fun he has teasing you as spider man

He’ll use his webs to get around quickly and restrain his enemy, but in combat? He prefers to use his fists. He’s quick with it too. He’s Shikanoin ‘left, right, goodnight’ Heizou.

So, whenever he does use his webs in combat, you know he’s going against a formidable foe 

He’s super sweet to fans. Signatures, autographs, everything. On the sly though, when you still didn’t know he was spider man, he kissed an autograph he signed specifically for you before he handed it to you.

There was a visible mark left behind, and although you were annoyed you still kept the autograph (that you didn’t ask for)

When he finally revealed his identity to you, you were simultaneously livid and not surprised; You know of Heizou’s tendency to tease

He planned for the whole reveal to be super romantic and everything, and by the end of it you two became a couple.

You are the ones who create the iconic spider man kiss. He’s upside down, holding a handwritten confession of love, not a rose, that you cautiously take from his hand. In the letter he explicitly stated that spider man and the man you were currently crushing on are the same people. Following that was a very romantic declaration of his feelings for you.

When you looked up from reading the letter, you found yourself face to face with Shikanoin Heizou instead of the spider’s mask. The shock on your face was too adorable to ignore, so he kissed you whilst hanging upside down.

It was an… interesting experience, to say the least.

Would you repeat it? Absolutely.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Heizouuu….” Your whine is music to his ears.

He nuzzles his head further into your chest, and his sigh is one of contentment.

“Yesss..?” This time, you’re the one sighing, except it’s one of annoyance rather than content.

“I’ve needed to use the bathroom since five minutes ago.” “And I told you you’re welcome to. I will wait as my warm, loving arms ache for your return.” You scoff at his dramatic use of words.

“Thanks, Heizou, but how could I possibly go to the bathroom when your body is literally tangled with mine?” This question gives him pause, even though it really shouldn’t.

Said body adjusts a bit, but he makes no move to get off of you.

You’re currently lounging in bed, doing nothing really. Just enjoying Heizou’s company. It was nice until you had to use the bathroom, and with the way Heizou’s body is lying on you, legs entangled and arms wrapped around you, there’s no possible way for you to escape.

His head remains on your chest, but he looks up at you now.

“How about a deal? If you can solve this riddle-“

“Shikanoin Heizou.” 

…

“My apologies.”

He quickly moves off of you, and you make a beeline for the bathroom.

You’re not surprised when he’s on the other side of the door the moment you open it.

“Sometimes, Heizou, you just…” You struggle to find the words to properly express yourself.

“I just..?” He prompts you, guiding you back to the comfort of your shared bed.

You finally find the words you were searching for as you both resume your previous position, except this time Heizou’s head is buried against the crook of your neck.

“You just.. fail to surprise me, really. Which is funny, since you’re someone who’s full of them.” His body shakes against yours as he laughs at your bold statement.

“Ah, my lovely partner knows me so well. Honestly, how did a detective like me get so lucky? I believe that’s the biggest mystery of all.” His words fill you with warmth; they effectively morph your feelings of affectionate annoyance into a feeling of immense joy.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You do know I’m the one who got lucky, right?” You chuckle when he gasps, as if the very concept itself is absurd.

“I would refute that hypothesis of yours, but I believe it would only cause this conversation to continue in circles. So, I propose that we are both the luck ones. Do you agree?”

You feel his smile and hear the affection in his voice as his lips brush along your skin.

“Yeah.. I agree.” “Perfect.”

And with that, a comfortable silence fills the room once more.

It’s a relaxing evening, spent with your very loving and very dramatic boyfriend.

🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓

Welt Yang ﹕⸝⸝ *:･ﾟ✮

“Wait, spider man is an old man!?” Yeah and there’s a literal dinosaur who dons the mask in another universe. Your point?

Lol jokes aside, Welt is one of, if not the most, powerful spider man. I mean, he can literally manipulate gravity.

He’s also a huge nerd.

He always brings his cane along with him when he fights, so the enemy tends to underestimate him, thinking he’s close to retirement and should just give up the whole ‘hero act’ already. Honestly, maybe he should, but that day isn’t today.

If he gets particularly annoyed by comments from his opponents, he’ll just get rid of ‘em. via a mini black hole of sorts. It’s super effective.

He’s actually very fond of making jokes and semi-horrible puns. They make you laugh though. Others? Not so much.

Anyway, he’s very reserved and he won’t stick around for reporters to interview him. He’ll just give the necessary information needed for authorities to take over, and in the blink of an eye he’s gone.

For his day job, he’s an animator. A well renowned one too. He’s very casual about it though, and he doesn’t see it as something deserving of praise.

He’s taken on a young talent who’s a blank page, in the process of writing a story of their own.

You’re the one who finds out Welt’s well kept secret. He didn’t plan on revealing his identity to you, as he felt it was his burden to bear and he would hate to make you a target.

He’s experienced many battles and has faced numerous foes, so he’s very wise and experienced. He’s faced scenarios where his morals come into play, and that’s something he’s not fond of. He rather preserve his integrity and do things in a way that aligns with his inner values. He’s been granted many opportunities to do things in an underhanded manner, yet he has never taken that  opportunity.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Please please please!” You jump up and down in innocent joy, but the man before you pinches the bridge of his nose.

“No.”

“Why not? Please! I promise this is my last time asking.” You plead with him, moving to hold onto his arm.

“That’s the exact same line you use every time.” “It is not!” You retort.

“You said the same thing yesterday.”

“Welt, please!” Now you fix him with a pleading look, a look you know he can’t resist.

“Name, my ability to manipulate gravity is a powerful one that comes with great responsibility. It shouldn’t be used as a measly… ahem..” His cheeks take on a pink hue as he coughs into his fist.

You’ve pressed yourself against him, your head tilted as you gaze at him with that look in your eyes.

“…this is the last time.” His gruff response brings you to life, your eyes alighting with joy as you remove yourself from him.

He misses the warmth of your body, but your smile provides him with a permeating warmth that is different, but comforting all the same.

“You always say that.” Your bratty response irks him. In an instant your world is flipped upside down as your feet are lifted off the floor.

“Yay! Thank you Welt.” He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed when you’re doing silly little flips as your body floats in the air.

This has become a regular occurrence for you. Occasionally, when you’re in the mood to be a bit silly, you’ll ask Welt to use his gravity manipulation to suspend you in air.

He was opposed to it, but eventually you wore him down. Now, he agrees to give you a few moments of fun, although sparingly.

His gaze is soft as he watches you enjoy the moment with childlike glee, before you’re gently lowered to the ground once more.

“There. Satisfied?” His voice is rough and his gaze won’t meet yours, but his heart pounds in his chest. You really are too cute.

“Yes! Thank you, and I’m sorry I keep pestering you about it… but… I appreciate it.” You saddle up beside him and wrap your arms around him in a grounding hug.

He smiles.

“Don’t worry about it.” Is his simple response. He presses a sweet kiss to the crown of your head, before he rests his on top of yours.

Fwip!

You glance behind you when you hear the sound, just in time to see the door to your shared bedroom close shut. Your eyes study the webs on the door handle before you swivel around to face Welt.

His cheeks are tinted pink once more, but he meets your curious gaze.

“Let’s.. enjoy each other’s company for the remainder of the day.” His words cause your own face to heat up, but a sly smirk soon presents itself on your lips.

“Can’t get enough of me, can you?” You relish the look he fixes you with, and you willingly follow his lead to your neatly made bed.

“On the contrary, with that attitude of yours I get more than my fill of you.” His words are contradictory to his actions, since he’s pulling you closer as his lips seek yours.

You smile when his lips finally meet yours.

🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓

‧₊˚ ┊Baizhu ⚕ *: ♥

With swift and deadly attacks that require minimal movement, Baizhu is always quick to subdue the enemy

Some days are harder than others for him, as he has a chronic illness. He still gets the job done, and he’s always advocating for others in a similar situation as him. He doesn’t reveal much to the media, but he does like to tell anyone who may hear “If I can be spiderman, then I know you can do anything you set your mind to.”

Instead of a spider biting him it was a snake. A talking snake no less. Her name is Changsheng, and she travels with him almost all the time.

Many ask to pet Changsheng. He turns down most requests but on rare occurrences he may let an individual do so (mainly children)

Has miraculous healing powers. He’s also a good sport at taking heavy hits, but he can only handle so much. Still, he’s stronger than you’d think, and he’s great at sporting others back to health. It’s almost like they were never sick at all once Baizhu tended to them. Unfortunately, his illness always seems to flair after he does so…

Speaking of, he’s well loved, Dr. Baizhu. He literally has a 5 star rating and everyone raves about him. You would think he would limit clients since he constantly gets a large influx of them, but he’s too kind to do anything of the sort.

Sometimes you have to scold him and force him to coax him into taking it easy; he tends to take on a bit more than he can handle.

He’ll say cheesy things like “You’re the remedy I’ve been searching for all my life. Most certainly.” Whenever you two are alone and spending quality time together. You can only smile when he tells you these things; He’s too cute to feign annoyance with.

He’s immune to poison. Don’t ask why he just is. (It’s totally not an added benefit of a contract he made)

𓆩♡𓆪

Your fingers gently scrub the area, and a noise akin to the sound of a satisfied cat purr is heard.

You bite your lip as you try to contain your smile, even though he wouldn’t be able to see it anyway.

You’ve finished lathering Baizhu’s hair in the floral conditioner. He allows you to finish the process of rinsing his hair, and the result is satisfactory. His hair, which now has the floral scent of the conditioner, has a renewed sheen to it.

“Your hair is gorgeous, Baizhu. Well taken care of too.” You hum, guiding him as you both move to sit down.

You sit on the couch, and have him sit in front of you on the floor.

You gently dry his hair as he leans back into you. It causes you to get a few droplets of water on your person but that’s insignificant to you.

It’s been a long time since you’ve seen your boyfriend so relaxed. He’s been overworking himself again, not only with his job as a doctor but with his spiderman man duties.

You insisted on a self care day since he has the day off, and you prayed people would stay in line today so he wouldn’t have to suit up.

It seems your prayers were answered; it’s now late evening and the orange hue of the sky is slowly morphing into a starry night sky.

The streets remain peaceful today.

A groan from Baizhu draws your attention.

He’s looking up at you with furrowed brows. “I thought I told you to stop worrying so much about me.” You ‘tsk’ at the audacity of his claim, opting to flick his forehead. It was a light flick, but he acts as if you’ve scorched him.

He hisses. He sounds like Changsheng.

You giggle.

“I know you aren’t telling me to stop worrying.” You shake your head in dismay, albeit a knowing smirk is on your lips.

“Name, I know I am not one to talk but I promise you I’ll take better care of my mental wellbeing. You have my word.” He places a comforting hand on your knee. The touch brings warmth to your skin.

“Promise?” Your voice is quiet. It sounds small. You’d be surprised if he even heard you.

You open your mouth to repeat your question, sure he hadn’t heard you, but he speaks before you can voice the question once more.

“I promise.” His statement is firm. When you look into his golden snake-like eyes, they’re full of life. Determination emanates from their intense gaze.

You believe him.

“Okay, good. I hate to see you like that, you know…” His gaze softens at the obvious concern on your face. He understands it comes from a place of love, so he only nods in understanding.

“I’m sorry sweetheart.” He reaches for your hand, still a bit wet from washing his hair, yet he places a kiss to your palm nonetheless.

With that, you resume your task.

You take your time braiding his hair. It’s relaxing, and the diffuser you have going only adds to the calm atmosphere.

As soon as you finish braiding his hair Baizhu moves. It startles you, but you’re soon put to ease when he sits beside you.

His arms wrap around you, and he rests your head on his shoulder. Your eyes fall shut as you breathe in the floral scent of his hair.

“Thank you.” He whispers the words, and you feel the soft press of his lips on your forehead. You feel the same touch on your nose, your cheek, your eyelids, until they finally press against your lips.

When he pulls away, you respond with a thank you of your own. He seems taken aback by your words, but then the sweetest smile lifts his lips.

“You are quite welcome.”

🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓

♡. Blade 🗡⭒⚠︎︎ ⛓°˖ 

He is the second spiderman in Caelus’s verse

He honestly feels as if the whole Spiderman role is a curse rather than a blessing, but he still plays the role nonetheless.

When he feels like it

Most people only know of Caelus as spiderman, but once Blade also took on the role there were rumors of a darker, more sinister spiderman seen webbing from building to building during the late hours of the night

Of course Caelus had to investigate said rumors, and that led to a one on one encounter with Blade and.. Kafka?

Long story short Blade begrudgingly helps Caelus out when he’s in a jam, but for the most part he keeps to the shadows and does his own thing. Whether what he does is morally ‘right or wrong’ doesn’t concern him.

He has the symbiote, Venom, and he absolutely hates it. Yet, well, here they are.

There was an incident when things got a little.. tense between Caelus and Blade. Before the situation escalated Kafka was able to get Blade under control.

Overall he doesn’t really do too much as ‘spiderman,’ but you’ll definitely have a chance at catching him beat the absolute shit out of a robber in a dark alley, their cries for help muffled as they’re eaten alive by the symbiote :D

Unfortunately for Blade, Kafka isn’t particularly fond of him eating people, due to the hassle of keeping it on the down-low. He’s supplied with massive amounts of chocolate to substitute for the people he was firmly told he can no longer consume, unless it’s a dire situation.

Blade truly sees his life as a misfortune, especially during moments where Caelus coerces him into helping him out. He’s really under no obligation to help, but something about Caelus persuades him to comply (albeit begrudgingly).

They make a great duo! Surprisingly. Like, Caelus can already be a hard hitter, when he chooses to use his bat, but add Blade into the mix? Whoever they’re fighting is not surviving that fight.

𓆩♡𓆪

Your hands slip under his shirt, cold against the warm skin of his abdomen. You trace the outline of his many scars; they feel rough against the delicate pads of your fingers. You move closer to Blade, burying your head into the crook of his neck.

You can feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest against your own; it soothes you.

He moves, his hands slipping under your shirt as well, tracing the curve of your spine.

“You really are such a handful…” He murmurs the words, quiet and emitting a gentle warmth. You shiver from his gentle touch, cold fingers leisurely teasing your skin.

You debate speaking up, to let him know you’re awake, but you quickly decide against it when he speaks once more.

“No one could compare to you. When I’m with you, I feel a warmth I haven’t felt in a long, long time…” Blade’s uncharacteristically honest words cause your heart to swell.

You struggle to contain your smile. You feel him shift closer to you, and soon a pair of surprisingly soft lips are pressed against your temple.

He remains silent now. Enjoying the peaceful atmosphere, running his hands along your skin.

“I love you too.” You finally say. He startles for a moment, and it makes you giggle. When you pull your head away from his neck you’re barely able to make out the sight of his flushed cheeks before he shoves your face back to its previous position.

He says nothing, but the smile on his face says all the things he fails to put into words.

#genshin x reader #genshin x reader fluff #honkai star rail x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x reader fluff #blade x reader #blade x reader fluff #caelus x reader #caelus x reader fluff #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x reader fluff #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader fluff #baizhu x reader fluff #baizhu x reader #honkai star rail x reader fluff #kazuha's part has me feeling things guys UGH <33 #Shikanoin heizou x reader #shikanoin heizou x reader fluff #welt yang x reader #welt yang x reader fluff

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.

Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.

OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT

Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2899

Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining

A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:

-----

The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter. 

And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway. 

But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence. 

Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan. 

That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life. 

You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together. 

Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.

You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you. 

“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes. 

“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk. 

“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop. 

Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked. 

“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in. 

“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.” 

“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.” 

It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day. 

Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually. 

There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid. 

You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did. 

“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.

“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.” 

“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner. 

The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude. 

“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.” 

Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?” 

You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked. 

“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” 

“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.” 

Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?” 

“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.

You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word. 

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his. 

“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.” 

Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of. 

You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked. 

“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked. 

Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.” 

You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot. 

God, you were down bad. 

“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face. 

“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed. 

You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded. 

That was all you needed to hear. 

— — —

You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible. 

Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little. 

You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting. 

After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual. 

As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken. 

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.” 

It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.

Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?” 

You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger. 

The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision. 

“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.” 

Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm. 

Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed. 

Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece. 

As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice. 

“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!” 

“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his. 

You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive. 

But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless. 

No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.

——

read part 2 here

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!baureader

[murdockparker]

Mr. Bridgerton and the Baker

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Covered in flour. It is how she usually spent her days, working hard at her family's bakery. She just hadn't expected to have met him in such a state.

Word Count: 11.8k

Warnings: pining, angst, fluff, a small assault (reader gets hit, not by Benedict!), mention of pregnancy (like, literally a line or two),

A/N: Did I write an entire fic barely based on that one scene in Camp Rock where Mitchie is covered in flour? Yes. Do I regret it? No.

With the melting of snow and the promise of new starts, the social season was nearly upon the ton, nearly upon all the potential suitors and debutantes—all waiting with bated breath to secure a match this year. Of course, those in waiting were of high status, usually tied to the aristocracy or drowning in wealth beyond compare.

The others? The ones not blessed with endless funds or pure luck of royal lineage had the privilege, nay, honor to serve those who would be so fortunate. For the many, it included servicing the estates—butlers, lady’s maids, governesses, home chefs and the like. For the patrons on Tilbury Street, it included the less sought after roles, polishers, cobblers, modistes and bakeries. One bakery in particular was the prime choice for the aristocracy, a diamond in the rough as some may say. 

—

“I just simply don’t understand why we cannot have our chefs prepare the pastries for the ball,” Eloise Bridgerton nearly groaned, her arm hooked onto her mother’s. They had been walking up and down Tilbury Street for the better part of twenty minutes, simply enjoying the fresh spring weather. “I’ve never known them to make horrid dishes.”

“It’s the first Bridgerton Ball of the season, Eloise,” the dowager viscountess murmured politely. “Along with it being the first Kate has had the pleasure of hosting, putting an order in here is a fresh foot forward, one that’ll impress our guests.”

Eloise barked back a laugh. “If it is so important, why is Kate not here to make the order herself?”

“That, dear sister, is an excellent point.” Following close behind the two Bridgerton ladies was a rather tall shadow, equally as dashing and nearly as clever—Benedict—the second eldest son of the Bridgerton brood. “Surely Anthony could spare his wife for one afternoon, I can’t imagine it being so difficult to pry them from their bedroom—”

“Benedict Bridgerton!” Violet snapped, turning hot on her heels to face her son. He could only laugh.

“Oh Mother, you must relax,” he said lovingly, patting both hands on her shoulders. “You know better than I that it could have been a far fouler thought—why, I can easily imagine three other ways I could have expressed my way of thinking.”

“Ah, ever the poet, Benedict,” Eloise smiled wryly, pushing her way to the front of their clump. No one had the heart to mention the glaring fact that it was likely she didn’t know the way in which they were headed. 

“This bakery,” Violet continued half-heartedly. “Is a prestigious supplier for the ton—you may recall their exquisite cake that we had ordered for Daphne’s wedding.”

Benedict hummed contently. “It was a good cake,” he practically nodded off at the thought. The decadent sponge nearly brought him to tears—of course, it could have very well been the relief from undue stress of Daphne’s season altogether, having nearly lost his older brother to an unnecessary duel.

“I think it was far too sweet,” Eloise said, scrunching her nose in distaste. “I had to drink nearly three cups of tea to clear out the sugar on my tongue.”

“Ah, but what’s life without a little bit of sweetness?” Benedict nearly sang.

“Perfectly fulfilling,” his younger sister quipped back.

The dowager viscountess could only sigh, her eyes reaching up to the clouds above. While she loved nothing more than being the mother of all eight of her perfect children, their endless bickering and bantering grew vexing. It merely took the Bridgerton siblings another minute of arguing before stopping in front of a quaint storefront—the sickeningly sweet aroma filling the street. “We’re here.”

“I could have told you as much,” Benedict mumbled, rubbing his temple lightly. “The scent is… overpowering.” If he were lucky, the headache that was quickly forming would dull fast.

“But Benedict,” Eloise turned hot on her heels. “What’s life without a bit of sweetness?”

Violet Bridgerton was quick to catch her second eldest's hand before it met the back of Eloise’s head. “If it’s too much for you, dear,” she released her grip. “Please feel free to wait for us out here. It should only take a moment.”

“Like a ‘moment’ at the modiste?” Benedict crossed his arms, his brow nearly touching his hairline. “If I recall, the last time I accompanied you to the dressmaker, I spent over an hour basking in the summer sun.”

“Nothing logical stopped you from coming in,” Eloise drawled. “Of course, if you wanted to managed to stay pleasant with the seamstress, one should have kept it in his trousers—”   

“We’ll only be a moment,” Violet hushed Eloise quickly, grasping the top of her arm firmly. “There seems to be little wait. We’ll be on our way shortly.”

He huffed towards the sun—while there had been little heat near the start of the English spring, the sun was warm against his skin. Benedict enjoyed being outdoors more often than not, it was usually the reason he accompanied his mother on their errands nearly every other day of the season. That, of course, and the fact it got his worrying mama off of his back to be wed. With Anthony finally securing a match, it was only fitting for Violet Bridgerton to be working her way down her list of endless children—having only two of eight married off. “It should only be a moment,” Benedict reassured himself, watching various other families and couples walk by. 

That is, until he heard a rather loud bang coming from the alley beside him. He should have known better—he was taught better—than to investigate outlandish sounds, especially in town, but Benedict Bridgerton was nothing if not curious. He peeked around the corner, holding his breath, preparing to be met with a wild animal of some kind. His view was shaky at best, hardly could see a thing around the bricks. If he wanted a better look, he’d have to take a few steps towards the unusual noise. 

A large white cloud had enveloped the small alley, it was difficult to even see a few meters ahead, let alone what could have caused the loud commotion. Benedict waved his hand through the mysterious fog, trying to clear some air. “Hello?” He heard a soft squeak. An animal, it had to have been, Benedict was sure of it now. “Is anyone there?” 

A cough rang through the alley, startling him more than rogue vermin could have. The cloud had begun to dissipate, the white settling on the stone street below. Flour, if he had to guess, given the location.

“I’m alright,” a voice murmured quietly, another soft cough following quickly after. The shape of a person came into view, the air finally clearing enough for him to make sense of the scene he came upon. It was one of a woman now covered head to toe in the white powder—she had no distinguishable features, the flour was caking every bit of her body and dress. Just striking eyes that made Benedict’s heart jump to his throat. “Just… made a mess.”

“So it seems,” Benedict hummed, stepping over a pile of powder to get closer. “Do you require any help?”

“No, no,” she laughed. “I wouldn’t want you to get dirty. I fear I’ve got quite enough of that for the both of us.”

“I don’t mind getting dirty,” Benedict said quickly, his tongue moving faster than his brain. “But… yes, I suppose it’d be for the best if I refrained from getting any flour on me. May I ask how…?”

“Clumsy,” she uttered simply, the shrug of her shoulders speaking nothing but truth. “I must have the slipperiest fingers in town—I wish I could say this was the first time…”

“Manage to cover yourself in flour often?” Benedict’s lips pulled into a jesting smirk.

“Nearly every other day,” the woman sighed. “We’ve grown accustomed to purchasing an extra sack or two just for situations like these."

“I hardly doubt you could be that clumsy,” Benedict laughed, leaning against the stone wall. “But, I am painting quite the image in my head.”

“Oh I do hope I’m decent in that image, Mr. Bridgerton,” she giggled, curtsying in a near-mocking manner.

“How do you know—”

“Everyone knows your family, Mr. Bridgerton, I’d be a fool to admit I don’t know who you are—though you and your brothers all blur together, so I am merely taking a shot in the dark in which of the four you are.”

“Oh?”

She nodded once, a flurry of powder falling from her hair. A muffled shout from the back door startled her, grabbing her attention. “Ah,” the woman waved the air in front of her face, “I suppose I should take my leave—get cleaned up.”

“Of course,” Benedict said simply. “I won’t keep you.” In nearly an instant, the mysterious dusted lady disappeared from view, diving into the back door. He was taken aback by her candidness—having addressed him so forwardly without the pleasantries of a name exchange. “Damn,” he mumbled to himself, kicking residual flour off of his polished shoe, “I never asked for her name.” Would it be too forward to knock on the back door to ask for her? Benedict Bridgerton couldn’t wrap his head around the interaction—she nearly sent him into a tizzy.

“Brother?” 

Eloise stood at the end of the alley, clutch in hand, face pinched in confusion. 

“Ah, I suppose you’re finished?”

“Hardly,” Eloise scoffed, “Mother insisted on doubling the initial order ‘just to be safe’. She’ll be out in a moment.” 

“Perhaps I should go inside to accompany her—”

“And leave your unwed sister unchaperoned in this part of town?” Eloise pressed a hand to her brother’s chest, stopping him dead in his tracks. His eyes danced quickly to the street in the distance, clearly not paying any attention to his sister. “Benedict?”

“Hm?” He glanced down. “Ah, maybe we should both go back inside—”

“You’re…” she pushed on him harder, nearly sending him backwards. “Acting strange. Not terribly long ago you wanted nothing to do with this place and now, you’re dying to jump into the building that brought you so much strife?” Eloise removed her hand from him, settling it down by her side as she glanced at him up and down. The blues of his outfit were covered slightly in a white power—not enough to really notice, but enough to give the appearance of filth. “And you’re covered in… flour?”

“I don’t wish to share every moment of my day with you, dear Sister,” Benedict said simply, sighing contently. “My business is my business.”

“Business,” Eloise parroted. “Sure.”

Violet Bridgerton had finished the order quickly, mumbling something about the higher prices this time of year—she had gotten a good deal regardless. Benedict was hardly listening, for he was already planning his next trip to this very bakery, hoping to meet the girl in flour once more. 

He never did get the chance, to go back to town. His studies took up most of his free time, any other moment he had was spent with his ever-growing family. Just recently, his sister Daphne brought over her newest addition—another daughter named Belinda—who happened to be yet another spitting image of her mother. Benedict had a theory that every new Bridgerton baby will simply just inherit all the Bridgerton features, so far he had been proven correct. 

“Damn,” Benedict mumbled, violently dabbing a paint brush into his water cup, the colors swirling from the end.

He had been in his studio for the last few hours, mixing endless pigments and oils together, trying to concoct the color in his mind’s eye. It was impossible, he theorized, to create the exact shades and hues of her eyes. It was the most striking thing he remembered about her appearance—save for the copious amount of white flour caking her form—and Benedict Bridgerton had come to the conclusion that her eyes were simply forged by God Himself, a color not meant for mortal recreation.

“Why can I not…” He sighed, slumping back in his stool, paintbrush nearly hitting his trousers. “This is impossible.”

The grand clock beside the door chimed out. It was nearly time to get ready for Anthony and Kate’s ball—an occasion he was most dreading, save for enjoying the few pastries that came from the quaint bakery down in town. Reluctantly, he began to pry himself from his studio and made his way to the washroom, preparing to soak away any remnants of her.

—

“Mother,” (Y/N) chimed out, tying the serving apron to her waist, “I don’t see the reason for my attendance this evening. Surely the hosts of the event will have their own serving staff?”

“(Y/N),” her mother exasperated, throwing a towel down. “Your brothers are ill and bedridden and have been the last few days. Your father and I are counting on you to help fulfill the order, my back isn’t what it used to be, if you recall.”  

The girl sighed, her eyes rolling right up to the cracking ceiling. “How funny, it seems your back flares up nearly in time for deliveries to be made,” the girl mumbled.

“What was that?” Her mother turned quickly towards her only daughter. “I’m sure I misheard you.”

“You must have,” (Y/N) sang. “For I said I’m willing to help with the delivery, mother.”

The older woman narrowed her brow. “Never do I hear such sass from the boys… Perhaps a bit of manual labor will refocus your priorities.” 

“I already agreed,” (Y/N) reiterated. “As if I had terribly too much of a choice…”

“No,” her mother clicked, slapping the a rather large ball of dough that resided on the floured surface. “You do not. Now come, help your mother roll this out.”

She had gotten ready for the ball in record time—seeing as how she’s never gotten ready for one. (Y/N) dug through her mother’s wardrobe, finding an old and somewhat outdated green dress to wear, but it did the trick just fine. It was far nicer than the frocks she had owned anyhow, a light embroidery laced the edges and was sure to be run over by her fingertips endlessly throughout the evening.   

“The carriage is here!” Her father couldn’t have shouted louder throughout the small flat. Their home resided above the bakery, a quaint little thing with only two bedrooms—(Y/N) had the pleasure of sleeping in a rather over-glorified closet. If she reached her arms out, she’d be able to touch two of the walls easily, but like everything in her life, she made do. Unexpected child? Unexpected room. 

“I’ll be right there,” (Y/N) said, tying the now-cleaned apron around her waist, checking herself in the reflection of her water pitcher. “Damned hair,” her fingers moved to tuck a loose ringlet back into position—she had spent the better part of the evening trying to style it. 

“We need to load the carriage and make way to Bridgerton House,” her father repeated, smoothing his formalwear out. He hardly had the chance to wear it, seeing as situations like this happen only once in a while. “We must make a good impression, perhaps we’ll find more business this evening.”

“That’ll be a blessing,” her mother agreed, heading down the stairs to the bakery. “We could always use more business and the dowager viscountess is well liked around the ton, surely she’ll have pleasant things to say about our work.”

“I thought we let the pastries ‘speak for themselves’,” (Y/N) chimed in, carefully picking up a parcel. Her parents simply glared at her, allowing their daughter to silently move along with the loading process. 

The silence continued throughout the lengthy ride to Bridgerton House—the bakers not uttering a word until disembarking to unload all of the sweets. True to her original thought, the Bridgertons had their staff do the bulk of the unloading, carrying each parcel and box into the grand room that was to be the heart of the ball, all that was left to move was the elegant cake specially ordered by the dowager viscountess.

“Do you need a hand?”

“Oh, that would be—” (Y/N) turned around to the mysterious voice, only to find the same Bridgerton boy from earlier in the week standing behind her. “I—Mr. Bridgerton, I’m sure I can find my father to assist, you really don’t need to—”

“I insist,” Benedict held up his hand, effectively cutting her off. “I shouldn’t allow a lady to carry such a thing on her own, it would be most improper.”

“I’m certainly no lady,” she scoffed, readjusting her apron. “I’m not a part of your ‘season’ or whatever it is you lot do during the spring and summer months.”

Benedict barked out a laugh. “Debuted into the Marriage Mart or not, you’re still a lady and I am ever the gentleman, so please, indulge me.”

A blinding heat flushed across her cheeks—she was sure it was visible from down the street. (Y/N) stepped to the side to allow Benedict to grab ahold of one side of the tray, her hands curling around the other. “Thank you… for your help.”

“It’s no bother,” Benedict said truthfully. “I’ve been practically bored out of my skull all afternoon, this is truly the highlight of my evening.”

“Helping me carry a cake?” She asked, turning a corner carefully.

“Seeing you again,” he hummed unabashedly, noting the way her grip stiffened. “Though I must say, I think I prefer you without the flour.”

“How do you know that girl was me? I was covered head to toe.”

“Your eyes,” Benedict said simply. “They’re the most expressive and exquisite eyes I’ve had the pleasure of viewing.”

Benedict Bridgerton. The man who made her speechless.

“That, and I made a bold assumption when I saw you and the pastries arrive this evening.” He laughed lightly, afraid to drop the masterpiece. “I assumed correctly, no?”

“You,” (Y/N) tried to allow her cheeks to cool before continuing.“Would be correct. Very wise you are, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Benedict.”

“Benedict,” she repeated softly, twisting herself to set the cake down on the table. “My apologies.”

The ballroom was grand—much nicer than any place she’d dream of residing in—delicate decorations hung from the sconces, flowers covered nearly every inch of the free space. It was, in every meaning, elegant. “This is… where you live?”

“Ah,” Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “My brother has been kind to allow me to stay here since he married, seeing as I only have my own property in the country. But yes, this is one of the homes I grew up in.”

“One of the homes,” she repeated back to him. “And here I thought I was spoiled with my broom closet.”

He turned a vibrant shade of red. “Oh! I didn't mean to—”

Her laughter filled the ballroom, the lightness practically lifting Benedict upwards. “I was merely teasing. I’m well aware of your status and wealth, Mr. Bridgerton—” 

“Benedict.”

“Ah! Sorry,” (Y/N) felt the twinge of shame hit her chest, it was small but enough to keep her in line to avoid making the mistake again. “I meant it in jest.”

“Funny girl,” Benedict clicked, waving his finger lightly. “You’ve got quite a sense of humor.”

“Growing up with nothing more than sacks of flour and parcels of sugar allows one to get creative with her jokes,” she explained carefully, treading lightly as to not make it sound completely miserable. “Though, I think they were a better audience anyhow…”

“You wound me,” a hand grabbed his heart, knees buckling towards the ground. “Oh how the lady wounds me.”

“I believe I told you, Benedict, I certainly am no lady.”

“Well, the lady has neglected to give me her name,” he peeked up from the floor—having found quite a cozy position. “So how else should I address such a fair maiden?”

“Fair maiden,” she scoffed playfully, voice barely above a whisper. “Certainly am nothing close to a maiden… but, if you must know,” she paused, “my name is (Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“(Y/N)…” Benedict repeated it, mostly to himself. He rose from the floor, eyes not leaving her own. “What a beautiful name.”

“I—thank you. I suppose you should give my parents such a compliment, though. I am simply the recipient of such a gift.”

“Well, when I ask your parents for permission to court their daughter, I’ll pass the message along.”

She froze. 

“Ah, what was that?”

“I hate to be so bold,” Benedict sighed, shoving a hand into his pocket. “But I feel the need to let you know of my intentions—my interest in you.”

“Oh you must be mistaken,” (Y/N) shook her head. “You’d want nothing to do with a girl like me. Surely there are other women in the ton who strike your fancy?”

“Nope,” he said simply. “Not a one. You, on the other hand, with your striking eyes and seemingly endless beauty, piqued my interest. If I may be honest, I haven’t stopped thinking about our encounter in the alley—it’s been on the forefront of my mind for days.”

She blinked, the gears in her head trying to keep up with the words Benedict was speaking. “But I am not from your world, Benedict. Even if I was interested in pursuing a courtship—”

“Are you not?” His eyes struck wide open. “I’m quite the catch, you see. Well-bred, scholarly and, if I might say so myself, I’m quite the talented artist. Easy on the eyes, too.”

“Benedict.” He stopped and looked at the woman. She was practically glowing in the candlelight. “While I’m not saying I’m… not interested, I can’t help but feel like you are infatuated with the idea of me and not… me.”

“How do you mean?”

She laughed humorlessly. “You don’t know me, truly. My likes, dislikes, how I take my tea, what weather I fancy—”

“See,” Benedict grabbed her hand, “I wish to know those things. Is that not the purpose of a courtship?”

“I am not from your world, Benedict. I have priorities, a duty to my family and our business—I can’t spend a moment thinking of the frivolity of a courtship with a man of your status.”

“But if I were, say, the butcher’s son it would be different?”

“Yes,” she removed her hand from his. “Of course it would be. I’m surprised you haven’t thought this through.”

“I have been thinking it through since we’ve met,” Benedict nearly spat, feeling anger bubble up in his chest. “I am not the type of man who wishes to court just anyone, you know.”

“So you wish to court me just because you can? Because how ever could I say no?”

“I—of course not!”

“We’re perfect strangers who shared a moment—albeit an endearing one—out in the middle of an alley. We both cleaned up and went about our lives,” she shook her head. “Nothing cosmic or magical about it.”

“I did not expect you to be so against the idea, unless… there’s another man of your affections?”

She groaned, pinching her nose. “No. No other man. Has a woman ever said no to you before, Mr. Bridgerton?”

He paused, clearly taken aback.

“Well,” she smoothed the tablecloth, the wrinkle in the bottom corner was annoying her, “let me be the first, then. No, I am not interested in a courtship, nor do I think I have any interest in a courtship—with you or anyone—so do not take it terribly too personally.” 

“Never? Don’t you plan to have a family of your own?”

“I already have a family,” she said simply. “I have no time for foolish ideas of having an adoring husband, three beautiful babies and a peaceful life out in the country.”

“That seems awfully specific—”

“No matter,” she waved. “Thank you for your interest, Mr. Bridgerton, I am flattered, truly.”

She walked away, hoping to hide in the carriage the rest of the night. Was she a fool? To turn down a courtship from such a sophisticated and notable man of the ton?

Benedict seemed to think so. True to her comment, he couldn’t recall a time in which a woman had rejected his advances—never in the name of a courtship, this would be his first—so to watch her walk away stung deeply, like a thorn to his heart. He was genuinely interested in the girl, he knew it. He just needed to prove it to her.

—

Days had passed since the Bridgerton ball and (Y/N) had successfully faked a stomach ache and ‘rested’ in the carriage until the night was over and done with. She was busy in the kitchen, working hard on a batch of fresh loaves for the storefront. Flour dusted her apron—the humor not lost on her—as she thought more and more about Benedict’s proposal. 

The bell to the shop rang out, her brother’s voice gave a muffled greeting, nothing out of the ordinary for a regular day at the bakery. It was calming, to work with the dough, taking virtually nothing and creating something delicious was soothing to her soul. She continued to knead the dough, working it like clay against her palms before the door to the back swung wide open.

“(Y/N), I do believe you have a visitor,” Harry, her second eldest brother smirked. He had finally recovered enough to help around the shop again, much to their mother’s delight. “One of the gentlemen variety, if you must know.”  

She stopped dead in her tracks.

“Did he give you a name?”

“Only asked for you,” Harry shrugged. “I figured you must’ve been expecting him,” he walked closer to her, taking over the kneading, “brought you flowers and looks rather fancy.”

She wiped her hands off on the already soiled apron, clapping her hands once for good measure. “Don’t over-work those, I’ll shove your face into the oven.”

Harry’s laugh rang out through the kitchen as she braved the door to the store. She knew it was inevitable, to expect him to come and try to woo her again, though she wasn’t expecting it so soon. The door felt rough against her palms, swinging wide open to the storefront. Sure enough, a one Benedict Bridgerton was standing by the counter, eyeing the various loaves on display. 

“Ah, Miss. (Y/L/N),” Benedict said, almost bowing. “I’m delighted you could join me.”

“Mr. Bridgerton,” (Y/N) smiled sickeningly sweet, forced beyond all measure. “What a… surprise.”

“A wonderful one, I presume?” He jested. Her eyes found the colorful bouquet quickly, she was trying her hardest to not make eye contact. It was ornate—fancy, just like her brother said—decked out in a healthy mix of wild blooms and expensive looking flowers. “Ah! My apologies, these are for you,” Benedict said, lifting the bouquet across the counter. 

She reluctantly took them, cradling the bunch as if it were a newborn babe. “Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton.”

He swallowed thickly at the formality of his name, but bit his tongue. “I must say, you looked exquisite at the ball, but I think your natural element suits you more favorably, why, you’re practically glowing.” Benedict pointed to her floured apron and messy frock, having been in the kitchen all morning. “Less flour than the first time.”

Her grip tightened around the bouquet. “Is there anything I can help you with? Perhaps another order for your mother?”

The man shook his head, laughing lightly. “No, no order. I just wished to see you.” The bluntness of his answer nearly shocked her, but the effect wore quickly.

“Perhaps I wished the opposite?”

“Oh, my dear,” Benedict practically mewled. “If that were true, you wouldn’t have come out here in the first place, now would you?”

Like a gaping trout, she had no reply. Perhaps he was right. She didn’t have to come out to the front of the store, the gnawing curiosity got the better of her and practically pulled her through that door. 

“If you are here to try to get me to change my mind—”

“I wish to spend the afternoon with you.”

She blinked.

“Just one afternoon, allow me to try and prove how serious I am about courting you,” Benedict said earnestly. “After that, if you are still of the same mind, I will never bother you again. You have my word.”

Hesitantly, she lowered the bouquet, her shoulders slumping. She was thinking so hard about his offer, Benedict swore he could see steam rising from her ears. “I… cannot just leave the bakery, it’s my family’s livelihood—”

“I’ll buy the lot,” Benedict said, pressing a handful of coins onto the counter top. “Sell me whatever it is you make in a day—a small price to pay for a moment of your time.”

“You cannot simply throw your money at things and expect it to always work out for you, Mr. Bridgerton,” she said sternly, eyeing the sack of coins longingly. She would be kidding herself if the offer didn’t sound appealing. “I am no woman on the corner, you cannot buy my time.”

“Then consider it a tip,” Benedict hummed, pushing the bag closer to her. “For your excellent service at the Bridgerton ball. Nothing nefarious, nothing expected of you. Just a man buying some bread.”

“Loads of bread,” (Y/N) mumbled, quickly calculating how many loaves he truly was willing to walk out with. The amount of money was unclear, but if she had to wager, he practically bought out the whole storefront. Her parents would be thrilled—they could even take a rare day off, just because their daughter spent the afternoon with a practical stranger. “Fine. One afternoon.”

The glee that washed across his body did not go unnoticed, he practically lit up the room with his joy.

“You won’t regret this,” he said seriously. “Trust that my intentions are pure and—”

“—honest and true,” she droned, finishing his thought. “Yes, yes, I understand.”

Benedict nodded. “Right. Well, shall we?”

“Will you allow me a moment to change? I do not think you wish to spend your day with a girl caked in flour.”

“Funny enough, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he grinned. She was unamused. “But, if you insist.”

It didn’t take long for her to clean up, a change in her frock and a readjustment to her hair was all that was needed. She found herself staring in her mirror a bit longer than usual, taking in her features. Could he really be interested in her? He seemed so taken by her looks when she herself considered them… so plain. She shook her head, effectively jumping out of her haze and proceeded to head back downstairs to meet her suitor for the afternoon. 

“Perhaps you were right,” Benedict said softly. “This may be your best look to date.”

A heat warmed her cheeks and it wasn’t the summer sun. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Bridgerton—” 

“Ah!” Benedict waved a finger. “If we are to spend the afternoon together, I insist you call me by my given name.”

Her lips pressed together in protest. “If you insist—”

“Oh and I do, my darling,” Benedict nearly sang.

“Benedict,” she corrected. “What sorts of plans do you have for this afternoon? Surely you did not produce such a grand gesture only to leave our day up to chance.”

“I am feeling quite parched,” Benedict said, almost ignoring her comment. “Care for a spot of tea?” In their walk down the street, he had managed to stop right in front of a quaint little tea shop. She hardly noticed.

“And if I do not care for tea?”

“I hear they have excellent scones and biscuits,” Benedict countered. “Surely not sweeter than you, but delicious all the same.”

“Sweeter than my scones, you mean?”

Benedict raised a brow, puckering his lips lightly. She heard him correctly the first time. “So. Tea?”

They sat at a small table near the back of the shop, a hot pot of herbal tea sat between them. It looked entirely domestic, a pot of tea shared between lovers, any onlooker could have deduced as much.

“Pass the honey?” (Y/N) pointed to the small jar next to Benedict’s hand. He nodded and pushed it closer to her.

“You take your tea with honey?” He probed.

“Herbal tea, yes,” she confirmed, stirring a spoonful into her cup. “If it is black tea, a healthy amount of milk is entirely welcomed in my drink, no sugar.”

“Interesting,” Benedict said, watching her intently stir the honey until it dissolved into the hot liquid. “I prefer plain black tea myself, though occasionally my brother Colin will bring exquisite teas from his travels across the seas.”

“And Colin is which brother?” The question slipped out quickly, she hardly noticed she had asked.

“One of my two younger brothers,” Benedict smiled gently. “Not much younger than I, but I do have a few years on him, not as many as I have on Gregory, of course. He’s practically the babe of the family—save for sweet Hyacinth.”

“Eight children…” She thought aloud. “Were your parents working towards a record number?”

“I always jest that they wished to complete the entire alphabet,” Benedict mused. “But, alas, twenty six seems a bit much.” He took a sip of his tea, enjoying the lingering aroma. “So, you know there are eight of us?”

“Everyone knows your family,” she said simply. “Do not flatter yourself.”

“Of course,” he hummed into his cup, a smile brewing from his lips. “You have siblings, yes? I believe I met your brother earlier.”

“Two older brothers,” (Y/N) groaned lightly. “Jack and Harry, the latter being the one you met. They are… oh how do I put this? Exceptionally irritating.”

Benedict laughed into his drink. “Sounds quite a lot like my siblings.”

“My parents expect Jack to take over the bakery,” she explained quietly, her voice lowering. “But he has no desire to bake whatsoever. He can hardly make a sponge cake.”

“And a sponge cake is…?”

“One of the most basic cake recipes a baker can learn,” she continued. “I usually end up being the one who pulls the slack Jack creates.”

“And Harry?”

“When he isn’t galavanting across town with the ladies of the night, he is holed up in his room doing Lord knows what. Certainly nothing that helps the family business.”

“You care a lot about your family and the business,” Benedict said, stating what is clearly the obvious. “Surely your parents see it too?”

“Oh no,” she shook her head wildly. “That is the most asinine part of the ordeal! They simply do not see me as an asset to the bakery—something that should rightfully be mine should the time come.” She sighed, throwing her head into her hands. “But, I am expected to keep my head down and decorate cakes like a good girl.”

“You say that as if you are their pet,” Benedict scoffed lightly. “Do they truly expect such obedience from you?”

“I wasn’t wanted,” she said simply. “My parents merely wanted a son to take over the business—Jack, he’s the oldest. Good for nothing, as it turns out. Harry was to have an extra set of hands around the bakery, but now he’s their prodigal child. Me? I was shacked with an over glorified closet for a room because there truly was no space for me.” She sniffled. “At least they got a decorator out of it.”

Benedict tentatively put his hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “You’re more than a decorator. Surely your parents see that too?”

“They’ll see some use of me when I get home,” she said into her cup. “Seeing as you bought out our store just to spend a measly few hours with me. I’m sure that in of itself is worth having an accidental daughter.”

Benedict all but scoffed at this. “You cannot be serious.”

“Not everyone comes from loving families that wish to do nothing more than pop out babies left and right,” (Y/N) deadpanned, placing her cup back on the table. “If it were truly up to my parents, they would’ve stopped after Jack. But, much like the society you come from, an heir and a spare, I suppose.”

“And you?” Benedict almost felt afraid to ask. 

“It’s like you said,” she finished her cup of tea. “I am simply a pet.”

Benedict was never one for fights, but he suddenly had the urge to put his fist through a handful of faces in that moment. “That’s awful.” It was all he could say. 

“That’s life,” she shrugged, picking up a biscuit and examining it closely. Her nose scrunched. “If you were trying to gain my favor, perhaps you should’ve taken me somewhere with better biscuits. It’s insulting to a baker to see such poorly made ones, especially in a place like this.”

He knew she was trying to change the subject. “I shall do better next time.”

“Yes, I suppose you—” she stopped. “That was a rotten trick and you know it.”

“I am certainly no magician, (Y/N),” Benedict finished his tea, hiding the most devilish of smiles from behind the cup. “But seeing as we’re finished with our pot, perhaps we can take a turn about the park?”

“You’d risk public outcry and a scandal for being seen with a commoner in the park?” (Y/N) asked, pulling herself from her seat. “What would Lady Whistledown say?”

“You know of Lady Whistledown?”

“Everyone knows of Lady Whistledown,” she scoffs. “I may not have the pleasure to afford her column every time she publishes, but occasionally our regulars will leave their pamphlet for me once they’re finished.”

“Only read the good bits, I take it?”

“As much as I don’t understand the world you come from, Benedict, reading Whistledown helps me fill the gaps I am so obviously lacking. Truly, even if I did grow up in your society, I doubt I’d be able to understand much more than I do now anyway.”

“I reckon you’re right,” Benedict said, a laugh escaping through his nose. “I’m not one for society anyway—never cared much for it.”

“Surely news of this would cause a scandal, though?”

“News that I am simply walking in the park with a friend? Oh how the newsboys will have trouble selling that story,” Benedict mused, leaning down towards the lady. “Perhaps if we were seen doing something less proper, I suppose. Do you wish to be doing something less proper, (Y/N)?”

She didn’t dignify his question with a response, though, the rouge on her cheeks was answer enough.

—

It only took a handful of minutes to walk to the park, the tea shop was so close already. How convenient.

The other ladies in the park, the ones of a more genteel breeding, they were dressed finer than anything (Y/N) could have put on. She felt out of place. She usually did, of course, but something about her outdated frock in contrast to how striking Benedict looked and dressed? It felt rather foolish. 

Perhaps it was the notoriety of the Bridgerton walking beside her, or the self consciousness of being underdressed enough to catch the eyes of anyone walking past, but it felt like she was a spectacle—something in a museum or on display. She was holding bright light, nearly shouting at everyone that she was not enough, not worthy to be in this park, let alone with this man.

“I am tired of walking,” (Y/N) said suddenly. 

“We have only just begun,” he laughed. “But if you require a respite—”

“Let’s sit,” (Y/N) said just as quickly, practically running to the edge of the pond. Perfectly out of sight to everyone.

“How secluded,” Benedict mused. “I daresay, I never thought you’d be so agreeable—”

“Hush,” (Y/N) admonished, holding a finger up. “I am simply in need of a break—away from prying eyes.”

Benedict nodded, not daring to pry further. He watched her slump to the ground, her dress skirt billowing around her like a cloud before settling to the gravity. He continued to stand. “I rather like this park.”

“A park is a park.”

“Have you been before?”

“Here?” She shook her head. “Obviously not.”

“My family, we would come to London during the social season,” Benedict explained. “Our usual residence is out in Kent—anyhow, my father had this spectacular notion to come to the park every week as a family. Looking back, it was probably to save face and show a united Bridgerton front.”

She looked up at Benedict, who was currently plucking a few leaves off of the low hanging branches of the tree. “Sounds wise.”

“He was the wisest,” Benedict agreed. “Keeping the ever-growing number of Bridgerton children entertained became a sport. Anthony, Colin and I were always squabbling, drove my mother rightfully insane, so, my father had a bright idea.”

“Paste your lips together?” She offered. 

Benedict knelt down, close to the edge of the water. “No, but I do not doubt that idea crossed their minds,” he laughed, bringing the leaves in his hands to view, “my father suggested racing.”

“Horse racing?”

He shook his head. “We’d each pick a leaf and follow it to the other edge of the pond—kept us entertained for hours, running back and forth to reset our leaves and chase them down.”

“Smart man,” she hummed, genuinely impressed by the late viscount’s cleverness.

“So, pick your contender,” Benedict said softly, displaying the spare leaves like cards in a deck. 

“You are serious?”

“Dead serious, I’m afraid,” Benedict clicked, pushing his hand a bit closer to her. “Come on, humor me.”

She looked down at the leaves and back up at Benedict, his blue eyes rivaling the color of the pond. Taking an interest in the middle leaf—it was the longest and skinniest—she plucked it from his fingers. “This one.”

“Excellent choice,” Benedict said cheerily, dropping the other leaves. “I am more inclined to a smaller one—seems they move faster down the shore.”

“Size isn’t everything, Mr. Bridgerton,” (Y/N) crossed her arms, resting them on her knees. She would never dare to admit it out loud, but she was having a bit of fun.

“Ah, perhaps not,” Benedict jested with her, her jab not even shocking him in the slightest. “But, I reckon it will be a close match regardless.”

After insuring that the lovely lady in his company was watching his movements closely, he set the leaves down on the surface of the water. “Finish line is by that tree over there,” he pointed, finally letting go with his other hand.

“May the best leaf win,” she giggled. Giggled? Good Lord. A crooked grin cracked on his face, focused too intently at the company rather than the match at hand. “Are you not going to chase them?”

“And leave you?” He scoffed. “Perish the thought.”

“I just thought,” her gaze was caught on the leaves, still floating down the edge of the pond—slower than she anticipated, “well, I suppose I wanted to get the whole picture of your family tradition.”

“Shall I run along the coast, then?” Benedict asked playfully, rising back to his feet, thumb pushed towards the water. 

“Only to humor me,” she shrugged, not even fighting the smile on her face. 

“Well, in that case,” Benedict began to remove his jacket, throwing it beside her. With a light jog he caught up to the leaves, they hadn’t gone very far anyway, perhaps if it were a windier day he’d have a faster time to keep up with. “You are in the lead!” He called out. 

“Brilliant!” Her hands were clasped around her mouth, a cone to help amplify her shout. His smile was like the sun, warm and inviting—she wished she could spend the day in such a warmth. Benedict practically jumped for joy when the leaves made it to the final stretch, crossing to the rocks on the shore. Nearly falling into the water, he managed to scoop the leaves up and jog back to the woman in the grass. “Well?”

“Well, what?” He asked, nearly out of breath, smile still pulling his lips upward. 

“The winner?”

“Ah,” he fell to the ground, sitting comfortably next to the baker’s daughter, pocketing the leaves. “A secret.”

“So you lost?”

“Oh, I assure you, if you won I would be celebrating you until the end of our time together,” Benedict sang. “However…”

“I lost?” She scoffed. 

“A gentleman is humble in his successes,” he explained carefully. “We could go again?”

“No,” she said, humor in her voice. “I think that was more than enough excitement for one afternoon.”

“For once, we agree,” he said. “May I…? Could I ask you a question?”

“If you are proposing marriage, I am afraid I’ll have to decline—”

“No, no,” he laughed heartily. “Nothing of that sort.”

“I suppose I could find it in myself to answer a different question, then.”

“You were cold to me this morning,” Benedict noted, twirling a blade of grass between his fingers. “But not on the day we met. What changed?”

She sighed, pulling her knees to her chest, gaze locked out on the now setting sun. “I… am not entirely sure.”

“Surely it was not the leaves—”

“The leaves may have helped,” she admitted. “Humanized you, in a way.”

“Was I inhuman before?”

“Naturally,” she retorted. “I mean, is it not obvious?”

“You were protecting your feelings,” Benedict finally realized. “All this time. You did not wish to be hurt—truly afraid I was merely stringing you along as an elaborate prank or ruse? Is that right?”

“How could someone like you ever have an interest in a pauper like me? The baker’s daughter and the son of a viscount?” Tears dotted her eyes, threatening to fall. How she came so close to crying was beyond her. “It seems implausible.”

Benedict dropped the grass, fully looking at the lady beside him. She had made herself nearly as small as she felt. He had hit the nail on the head. A gust of wind blew by, bringing leaves down from the tree above. 

“I do not think less of you because of whose daughter you are,” Benedict said softly, removing a stray leaf from her hair. His fingers guided her head towards him, begging for her to look his way. “I care only about you. Getting to know you. Frankly, your father seems like a mostly alright man, but I do not wish to know him the way I wish to know you.”

“You may wish for that,” she sniffled. “But what would the rest of your world think? You, trying to court a woman below your status—”

“The only people who should be caring so deeply about my potential courtship are my intended and me,” Benedict said sharply. “The rest of the ton can frankly kiss my rear end.”

This raised a laugh out of her. It was bubbly and pure, almost like the one of a child. “You truly don’t care what people think about you?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I do not.”

“How freeing that must be,” she said. 

“Being the second son has its perks,” Benedict looked at her, really looked at her. “No one expects me to be proper all the time. I am given the freedom—financially and otherwise—to do as I please. I do not have to worry about inheriting a title, siring heirs, that is my brother’s responsibility.”

“Why me?”

His head quirked. “I do not understand?”

“You could court any girl of the ton,” she said. “And I am sure more than half of them would never turn down a chance to be courted by a Bridgerton—”

“They wished for the title,” Benedict sighed. “To be Viscountess Bridgerton, to marry my older brother and have the notoriety. That ship has already sailed, I'm afraid. You are kind in thinking that many women would be after me though.”

“You are not ugly,” she listed, “you have a great humor about you, a pleasant demeanor and a kindness in your eyes. The women of the ton must be foolish, then.”

“Perhaps the foolish one is you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You truly think those things about me?” He asked, awaiting a response. Her jaw was slack, clearly not about to give him any sort of confirmation to his question. “I believe your words, I do. But perhaps you should look at yourself with such eyes?”

“I-I don’t understand—”

“Our class differences aside,” Benedict said, as if it was easy to just ignore that, “while I was taken by your beauty at first—your eyes are something the Gods themselves forged in the fires, stars rivaling their shine—it was your continuous personality that kept my attention. Granted, it helped you were once covered head-to-toe in flour, it really brought out your features.”

Her cheeks flared at the recollection of their first meeting. “It was not my finest moment.”

“And you were vulnerable all the same,” he continued. “You cared not for who I was, yet, you showed an interest in me anyway. You may not agree with that statement, but you and I know it to be true in some shape or form. The only thing that holds you back is this notion on our classes—”

“Perhaps I am interested in you,” (Y/N) cut him off. “Perhaps I wish to be courted by you, attend balls and dress in pretty gowns, drinking expensive drinks and whispering sweet nothings. But that is all that it is—a wish. I know my place in this world, it is a right shame you have such a fantasy about yours.”

“(Y/N)…”

“No,” she stood up, brushing the blades of grass and leaves off of her skirt. “I hoped that you would understand, Benedict. I agreed to this afternoon because it felt like I had no choice in the matter—you practically bought my time, after all. What I did not expect,” she hiccuped, “I did not expect that I would enjoy such an afternoon.”

“You enjoyed yourself,” Benedict rose to his feet, desperate to match her gaze head on. “Why can you not allow yourself to have that joy? Allow your heart to follow its call?”

“I do not have such liberties to listen to my heart,” (Y/N) said softly. “I must use my head for every choice I make. An afternoon with you allowed my family to have enough money to make it through the end of the season without going hungry—”

“And an afternoon with me has brought such happiness to fill your soul for much longer—”

“Happiness has little importance,” she scoffed. “I would rather see my family healthy and surviving than even think about a notion like happiness or joy.”

“You have said yourself that your family treats you like a pet,” Benedict took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He needn’t explode in the park. “Why do you care so much about them if they care so little for you?”

“Because it is all that I know!” The candle had finally reached its end, burning out with a sizzle. “All I have ever known is my life in the bakery, rising early to make the dough, peddling samples to those walking by and hoping—praying—that they step in our store and purchase something. Because a sale of a few loaves of bread or cakes meant we could afford to buy vegetables for a soup, something to eat with our days old bread.”

“If you were with me, you wouldn’t ever need to think about things like that again,” Benedict said, his voice wavering on a whisper. “I could support you, support your family.”

“And that is precisely why I do not wish to continue this,” she raised her finger. “I do not need an affluent man to come and save me—”

“But I could help—”

“I do not need your help!”

“You obviously do!”

She took a step back, the tears from before finally reappearing in her eyes. “O-obviously? Because I am of a lower class you believe, in that giant and empty head of yours, that you can simply win my favor by saving me? Offering riches and experiences that I should be grateful and thanking every God that will listen that you are even willing to give me?”

“You know that is not what I meant—” 

“You believe that because you are who you are, and I am who I am, that I couldn’t possibly say no to you,” her gaze flicked with anger, a fire looming. “While the ladies of the ton have their choices, I do not, so it makes it easy for you to pine over someone who simply has no choice in the matter.”

“No—(Y/N)—”  

“This afternoon has been lovely,” (Y/N) spat, looking to the skyline—the sun had finally set, “but I am afraid that the afternoon is over. I shall be taking my leave.”

“Please reconsider,” Benedict begged, willing to try anything to get her to stay. “I wish to know you.”

“A shame, then,” (Y/N) said, turning around. “Wishing for something so foolish.”

—

“Her head is in the clouds,” Jack whispered.

“No, I reckon her head is in the dough,” Harry mumbled back to his brother. 

“I can hear you, you know,” (Y/N) ground out, working hard on a rather unruly clump of dough that simply would not cooperate. “And if I can hear you, you are close enough to be helping.”

“But that is so exhausting," Harry groaned, leaning against the countertop. “Besides, how are you ever going to impress your betrothed if you do not keep such toned arms?”

She threw the dough against the counter—hard. “He is not my betrothed.”

“But you wish for him to be, no?” Jack giggled, playing with a few burnt buns—a mishap of his own creation.

“I say, Sister,” Harry said. “Why do you not pursue that Bridgerton? He clearly is interested in you, or, have you forgotten all of the flowers he has sent?”

The front of the shop was practically a florist’s dream—covering every free inch of counter space with beautiful bouquets. Her mother simply refused to throw out such lovely blooms, even going so far as to fish the first one out of the trash after her daughter made quick work to dispose of it. “How could I possibly forget about the man who continuously flaunts his wealth to get what he wants?”

“He wants you, surely that is not lost on you?”

“Of course not,” she continued to knead, a few hairs falling into her face. “But he is so insistent on getting me to agree to his whims simply because—”

“He has money, (Y/N),” Jack scoffed. “Good money. Christ, you spent half of a day with him a few weeks ago and we were able to finally purchase meat for dinner. Imagine if you married him—”

“So you want your sister to be married off for your own financial gain?”

“What else would you marry for?” Harry laughed. “Love?”

She stopped kneading. “Why do you not go and try to marry a wealthy lady, then? Hm? Surely a woman of genteel breeding would be much taken by the idea of a rugged baker—”

“That Bridgerton is already interested,” Harry shrugged. “At the very least, if you end up with child he would provide enough funds—”

“First you wish to marry me off, now you wish for me to have his bastard?” She couldn’t help but laugh, ignoring her hard work on the counter. “Why can I not make my own choice? I do not wish to be with Mr. Bridgerton, I wish to stay here at the bakery.”

“Fucking stupid,” Jack scoffed. “If I were in your shoes, I would let the gentleman pay for anything my heart desires—forget about this wretched place and move on with my life.”

“And abandon our legacy?”

“You mean my legacy,” Jack corrected. “I am to inherit the bakery, it is my birthright. You? I suppose I will allow you to continue your grunt work here—” 

“Who else will do the baking?” Her voice rang throughout the kitchen. “Mother and Father are nearing the end of their career, both becoming too frail to continue with the rigorous task of this place. I am the only one—the only competent member of this family who can keep this shit afloat! And you want me to just… give that up?”

Jack stood a little straighter. “It was never your place.”

“Harry is set to inherit the bakery now, you know it. Yet someone had to fill the shoes of the family fuck-up instead, no?” 

It was a sharp pain, suddenly and all at once against her cheek. It took her only half a second later to realize what had happened, her other brother’s face was only a confirmation on the fact.

“Jack, what the hell?!” Harry practically screamed. “You hit her?”

“She insulted me!”

“You deserved it,” Harry said, pushing his older brother back. “She only spoke the truth—”

“So I am allowed to be walked over by my baby sister?” Jack scoffed, pushing Harry back. “A woman? No fucking chance, mate.”

Her hand had covered her cheek, already feeling warm to the touch. Everything was too much, too loud, too bright. She had to get out of there, had to forget all about the dough on the counter, forgetting all about the brother who had just smacked her silly. The back door wasn’t locked—no surprise as Jack was the last one to use it—making it easy for her to push into the alleyway and into the rain. 

Rain. 

Pelting like bullets, the wet drenched her clothing in a mere instant, making it harder to escape. Where had she planned to run anyway? She had nowhere to go, her entire world was contained to the four walls of the bakery, never daring to explore the rest of it, not when her world was already so encompassing, so inviting. 

In theory, anyway, it seemed.

So, she ran. A mix of running and walking, she kept moving forward. By the time she left her part of town, she knew her brothers would not bother coming for her. The rain alone was a deterrent, even Harry, the one who loved her more, wouldn’t dare to brave the elements just to reel his sister’s whims in. 

A splotch of purple entered her vision. How long had she been moving? Did she even expect to come here? Did her subconscious send her in this direction for a reason?

She knocked on the bright door before she could find out.

“Good evening, ma’am,” a butter said politely. “What business do you have?”

“I am here to call upon Benedict Bridgerton.”

—

His quill had soaked the parchment below with ink, having left the tip upon it for far too long. He had been lost in thought, contemplative, especially the last few weeks. Benedict knew he had hurt her, had insulted her very being, yet he still tried. Every other day he’d send a fresh bouquet to the bakery, a new poem attached to the stems. Perhaps she read them? He knew it was more likely that she burned them, in the ovens or otherwise. 

At the very least, he knew that the blooms were being displayed at the shop. Hope. That is what it had given him.

“Mr. Bridgerton, you have a caller,” a butler knocked, opening his door a crack wider.

“A caller? In this weather?”

“She seemed rather insistent,” the butler shrugged. “She is waiting in the drawing room—I already sent for tea and towels for the lady.”

“A lady is here to see me?” Benedict quirked his brow.

“A Miss. (Y/L/N),” the butler said. “No calling card, soaked to the bone and she seemed a bit… out of sorts.”

Benedict had already risen from his desk, practically pushing past the staff member to reach the stairs. Missing a step or two, he made it to the drawing room and shoved the door open. In the center of the blue room was (Y/N), dripping onto the wooden floor, shaking like a leaf.

“(Y/N)…” 

“I-I had nowhere else to go,” she began to explain. “I did not even realize I was here until I knocked on the door. It was foolish—”

“No,” Benedict shook his head, reaching to take her hand in his own. “It is quite alright. You are more than welcome to be here.”

His hands were warm, or perhaps she was just that cold, making them feel like a fire. “I am so sorry, Benedict.”

“For what?” He asked genuinely. 

“Everything?” She offered. “I-I am not sure of what, exactly, but I feel that I need to apologize.”

“You needn’t apologize for anything,” he said. “Not with me, not ever.”

She looked up at the ceiling, afraid to make contact with his blue stare. “I needed to get away. My brother he—Jack hit me.”

Benedict froze, his entire body went rigid. “I’ll kill him.”

“I suppose I deserved it,” she shrugged, now looking at the ground. “Talking back to him, assuming things that could never be—” 

“A man has assaulted you,” Benedict squeezed her hand tighter. “Brother or not, he put his hands on you. You did nothing of the sort to deserve such a thing.”

“I don’t think I can go back there,” (Y/N) said softly. “Perhaps this was just the moment that gave me clarity. Opened my eyes, so to speak.”

Benedict took a good look at her face, red and splotchy, whether it was from the smack or the tears, he could not tell. “Tea is on the way, I shall request a cold compress for your cheek—”

“I do not wish to impose.”

“You shall wish for nothing here,” Benedict said quietly, firmly. “You will stay until the rain lets up, or, you provide me with a suggestible plan for your next steps.”

“I cannot go back,” she finally looked up at Benedict. “As much as I would like to, I simply cannot.”

“If you do not want to go back, I will support you. If you want to leave town, the country even, I will support you,” he said seriously. “Please allow me to support you.”

“I could never ask you for that—”

“You are not asking, I am offering,” he clarified. 

“Benedict…”

The rain seemed to lessen, if the pelting against the window had anything to say about it. The noise had dimmed, not as violent as before. “To know that you are safe, that you are cared for, that is all I care about.”

So, in the center of the blue Bridgerton drawing room, soaked to the bone and dripping all over the floor, she kissed him. It was a sudden thing, pulling him down towards her lips, the contact much quicker than she had expected. He returned the favor in kind, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight, kissing her in a way he had yet to truly experience. 

If his hands were like a fire, his lips were an inferno. Fighting for dominance, it was all encompassing. How had she gone so long without a feeling such as this? The burn was coming from inside, not a superficial one atop her skin as she was quite used to, but this burn, this feeling, she could find herself craving this. 

“I-I am sorry—” she pulled away.

“Never be sorry,” Benedict shook his head. “Not for that, not ever.”

“I should not have done that…”

“No,” he agreed, a chuckle leaving his lips, “but how exhilarating it felt, regardless.”

His thumb ran lazy circles on her jaw. She leaned into the touch. “I do not know what to do, where to go…”

“But you cannot stay here…?”

She smiled sadly. “You know me scarily well, Benedict.”

He thought for a moment. “So… leave.”

“Excuse me?”

“Leave town, leave the country—”

“I do not have the means to do such a silly thing.”

“I will pay your way.”

She scoffed, trying to pull out of his embrace. He wouldn’t release his grip. “Benedict…”

“I told you, I wish to support you. Emotionally, financially, I want to be there for you,” Benedict said. “Even if we are not—if you do not want to be together romantically, I want to ensure your safety and your health, your well-being. A friend.”

She tried to find the lie in his eyes, in his tone. Coming up empty, she had no excuse to not believe him. 

“France,” he said, as if struck by lightning.

“France?”

“I hear only the expert bakers study in France—I have no doubts you could go to learn,” he explained. “I could pay for your travel, housing, you name it. Ask for it, and it is yours.”

“I doubt anyone would want to teach a woman, no matter how lovely a thought it might be.”

“I have a cousin,” Benedict explained. “Her and her husband own a café—I am quite certain that they would love to hire an expert baker to add to their inventory and menu. You could earn your own income, make your own way. A fresh start.”

“A fresh start…” she repeated. “That sounds too good to be true.”

“I shall write to her in the morning,” Benedict said, holding her hands again. 

“And you…?”

“I will only come with you if you want me to join,” Benedict said slowly. “I will not trap you. I want your happiness, your freedom.”

She nodded, understanding.

“I think France sounds nice,” she smiled. “Will you write to me?”

“Every chance I get.”

“Even if you are vexed with me?”

“Especially if I am vexed with you.”

She kissed his lips again, sweeter and softer than the first time.

“Sounds perfect.”

—

A year. An entire year had passed and she couldn’t recall a happier time in her life. The only time that something could have rivaled it was a visit to a tea shop followed by a respite by a pond—in handsome company all the while. 

They kept correspondence, just like they promised. Every week came a new letter, a new story to be told by the poetic Benedict Bridgerton. She tried to rival his words, explaining every detail about France, about her new life, but something was nagging. She missed him. They had grown close over the correspondence, leaving her heart wanting more. But, she knew when she left for France it was to fulfill her dreams, leaving a foolish notion like love on the back burner.

“(Y/N),” Marie, the Bridgerton cousin, called out behind her. “We are in need of more buns.”

“I just restocked the buns,” (Y/N) giggled, turning to the blonde. “What? Has someone mysteriously bought the lot?”

“Oui,” Marie said with a jest, heading into the storage room, “perhaps you should go bring more out?”

“You are in luck, the last batch just finished resting from the oven,” she said, carrying a tray on her shoulder, “I will bring them out with haste.”

“I am sure he will appreciate it.”

(Y/N) faltered, hand already pressed to the door leading to the front shop. A tingle ran through her spine, her heart picking up to a freeing flutter. 

Could it be?

“You know, I would buy your entire stock,” the man hummed, looking thoughtfully into the display case, “but I fear I would be recreating a rather taxing memory for the both of us.”

“Benedict,” she gasped, nearly dropping her tray. 

“You look radiant,” he mused, that wicked grin of his breaking on his face. “Much like the first time I saw you—covered in flour.”

“I am in my element,” (Y/N) said sweetly, “just as you would expect.” She had noticed that Marie and her husband were not in the café, the sign flipped to close. “You planned this.”

“Do you insinuate that I bribed my distant cousin to close her café to give you the day off, travel all the way to France, hoping I could spend the day with you?” Benedict scoffed playfully. “You truly do not know me at all.”

“I do not think Marie would take a bribe,” (Y/N) said slyly, knowing how much of a champion the cousin had been for the baker and viscount’s son to get together.

“She refused payment,” he admitted, agreeing with her notion. “But, was ever eager to see you get out of the kitchen and enjoy yourself.”

“You hadn’t written to me in two weeks,” (Y/N) said, walking around the counter. “I was worried.”

“I needed to refrain from our correspondence, I fear I would have let the surprise slip otherwise.”

“Smart man,” she hummed.

“I am known to be smart occasionally,” he shrugged.

“What are you doing here?” She finally asked. “N-not that I am not happy to see you, of course, but as you had said, this is a surprise.”

“I came to study art,” Benedict said, a hand in his coat pocket. “I felt that if I truly wanted to learn the craft, I needed to learn from the masters—many of their works are housed here in France. I even began to rent a little home in town, finding the need to stay a while.”

“That is the only reason?”

Benedict’s gaze softened. “Of course it is not the only reason.”

Her heart fluttered again.

“It is only fair that I try this again, correctly and without the prying eyes of society, this time,” Benedict said, clearing his throat and spinning around.

“Correctly?” She giggled, watching him twirl to face the door.

“Ah, good morning miss!” Benedict said, turning back to face (Y/N). “I must say, you look ever-so-pretty—tell me, do all bakers have a beauty such as your own?”

“I would wager no,” she said, trying to keep serious. “Most of the bakers around here are men.”

“Shame. Might I learn your name? It seems only fair—I fear I might just die if I do not know the sweet sound of it.”

“(Y/N),” she sang. “My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Benedict Bridgerton,” he stretched out his hand, reaching for her own. She allowed him to take it, a soft kiss was placed on the back of her cracked hand—a working hand, one that she was proud to have. 

“You are very charming, Mr. Bridgerton,” she hummed, looking deeply into his blue eyes. “Pleased to make your company.”

“I assure you, I am more pleased to be in yours,” Benedict insisted, kissing her hand again. “Tell me, do you have plans this afternoon?”

“It seems my schedule has cleared up,” she looked to the sign on the door and sighed. “Why? Do you have any suggestions on how I should spend it?”

“Might we take a turn around the park? A friend of mine has written to me about just how lovely one nearby is, I reckon I would like to see it for myself.”

She smiled brightly at him, as if he held the world in his hands. Instead, he held two leaves between his fingers—brown and cracked, but clearly treated with such care. They had been the same ones from their time at the park the first go around, she was nearly certain. Why else would he bring dead leaves with him?

"Leaves?"

"You see, my family, we have this tradition of racing with leaves—I would very much like to share it with you. These two in particular seem to be very lucky, thought it would be best to bring them along."

His smile melted her heart, endearing and thoughtful in the same breath. She could get used to a smile like that.

“Well… what are we waiting for, Mr. Bridgerton?”

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #this is a doozy and i am sorry #but only a little bit!!!

[the-final-sif]

For anyone in the US who has just realized that they are nearly 1 month away from their taxes being due (April 18th) and is panicking because they don't know what to do,

Calm down.

If you're new to taxes, and in an early part of your life (just earning wages from a company that does withholdings), they're actually pretty easy to do and odds are you're just gonna get some free money (your tax refund).

Collect documents. Specifically, go get your get your W2, a form sent to you by whatever company you work for. Most will send you this online. Some might send you a paper copy.

https://www.irs.gov/filing/free-file-do-your-federal-taxes-for-free

Go to the above link, there's free filing options for federal taxes, and for some state taxes. It took me ~15 minutes to do my taxes in total, and then the government gave me like 1k back.

If your situation is more complicated than just having a W2, then go to the IRS's help page. They have a ton of super helpful tools that can walk you through different situations and what you need to do, they also have a toll-free help line.

https://www.irs.gov/help/ita

I know everyone talks about how much taxes suck, but legit, if you're an average wage earner and don't own a house or anything, odds are your taxes can be done in 15 minutes and then you get some of the taxes you paid back. It's not that scary, and the IRS has been working really hard to make the process as simple as possible.

Good luck!

#us taxes #irs #taxes #sif speaks #listen I realized that old people will have you convinced taxes are a mess #but honest to god people who are at a new spot in their life #are fine #it's very easy and then you get money

[joelsgreys]

not a thing l part ii

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

part i

summary: You fess up and tell Joel about how Ellie overheard the two of you during the private moment you two had in the woods; Ellie confronts Joel about you while you’re asleep in the truck.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. IMPLIED AGED GAP (no specific age mentioned for reader, Joel is canon age) Joel is kind of an asshole, Ellie is a wiseass, mentions of Tess.

word count: 4.7k

a/n: decided to write a second part to the first Joel fic that i ever wrote! i am so, so stunned that one fic turned into more and that people actually want to read my stuff for Joel/TLOU. thank you all sm for everything and for interacting with me and my content. it means a ton!

“Think this might be a good time to stop?” Joel asked you, quietly.

You hummed, glancing back over at Ellie through the rearview mirror.

Even through the darkness inside the small cab of the pickup truck, it was almost too painfully obvious as to how fucking exhausted the girl was and how much this journey had already taken out of her after only just a few days on the road. Although she was on the smaller side and had an ample amount of space to stretch out her limbs, lay down, and get a decent night’s sleep in the backseat of the truck while you and Joel both took turns driving through the night, Ellie had expressed to you on more than one occasion that she’d rather stop to make temporary camp somewhere for a few hours and continue the drive in the morning once everyone had the chance to take a break. You honestly couldn’t blame her, not even if you tried—it was taking its toll on you too, a lot more than you let on to both Joel and especially to Ellie.

Being the adult, you kept your complaints to yourself, but the truth of the matter was that at the end of each day, you were also getting sick and tired, so damn sick and tired, of the ungodly amount of time that you were spending cooped up in the pickup, just sitting on your ass.

Sure, it may have been a little bit of extra work and it was keeping the three of you from reaching Wyoming as fast as Joel would have liked given the nature of the smartass, teenaged cargo you two had on your hands—but you also preferred to stop and make camp for the night.

After realizing that Joel was still waiting for a response, you nodded.

“Yeah, we should probably call it for the night,” You told him, glancing down at the map of the country in your hands. The three of you made it to the state of Indiana; Missouri was your next planned stop to find gas to siphon and refuel, and even though it was just a little less than six hours away, you figured an early morning wakeup call could have you all there by tomorrow afternoon. “Only problem about a state like Indiana is that it’s flat as fuck. There’s nothing but wide, open grassy fields around here.” You peered out of the window, then turned back to Joel, frowning. “Think we’ll find a safe enough spot?”

“We’re just gonna have to make do with what we got,” Joel stated as he carefully veered the vehicle off of the highway and to the left, onto the aforementioned grassy field. “You think about a mile out from the highway is decent enough? Mile and a half, maybe?”

“Let’s make it two,” You suggested. You neatly folded up the map and stuck it into the glove compartment in front of you. “I doubt we’ll run into anyone or anything out here in the middle of nowhere, but might be best not to risk being too close to the highway, just in case.”

He looked over at you, nodding his head in agreement. “Two it is.”

“Aww, teamwork,” Ellie teased from the backseat. “How fucking cute.”

“It’d be real cute if you’d shut up,” Joel quipped. Once he pulled the truck about a couple of miles out onto the field, he came to a stop and then cut the engine. “We’re gonna take a breather for a few hours,” he said to Ellie over his shoulder. “But only for a few hours, and not a minute more. Come sunrise, we need to get movin’ again, understood?”

She saluted him. “Aye aye, Captain. Whatever you say.”

The second that you hopped out of the pickup, you started shivering. The chilly evening breeze nipped at any patch of exposed skin it could find. The days had been pretty decent, but at night, the temperatures would drop drastically—it couldn’t have been warmer than forty or so degrees. Instinctively, you reached into the top of your pack, pulling a second jacket you carried for yourself out of it. You handed it over to Ellie and instructed her, “Put this on. Cordyceps infection might not have taken you out, but hypothermia will.”

She took it from you, shooting you a tiny, grateful smile. “Thanks.”

Joel eyed the interaction, his lips pursed together in displeasure.

He didn’t want you and Ellie getting attached to one another, but he feared it was too late. The girl had taken an instant liking to you and you seemed to have taken a liking to her too. “Here.” He tossed Ellie her blue sleeping bag. “Go lay down on the other side of the truck.”

“I’m already so fucking itchy just thinking we have to sleep here.” Ellie wrinkled her nose down at the grass under her shoes. Lifting her head, she took a glance around before turning her attention to you. It was written all over her face, evident in the way she started to shuffle nervously from foot to foot; she was afraid. “I feel so exposed. Are we really going to be safe? There’s fucking nothing out here, not even a single tree. What if someone finds us while we’re all sleeping?”

Before you could reassure her, Joel stepped in.

“No one is goin’ to find us out here,” he grouched. “We’ll be safe. Now quit your complainin’ and go get settled for the night. And don’t even think of askin’ me for a fire in the middle of a goddamn field. Got it?”

Ellie rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, it’s fine. You know, I’m actually kinda starting to get used to freezing my fucking ass off anyway.”

You lifted a hand to your mouth, trying to hide your snort of laughter.

She was too fucking quick for her own good.

Joel glared at you. “What? You think she’s funny?”

“Actually, I think she’s fucking hilarious,” You shrugged, causing him to let out an exasperated sigh. “What? It’s true! She’s made me laugh more in the last week than I have in the last two fucking decades.”

Ellie beamed at you. “At least someone still has a sense of humor.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” he snapped, irritably. “Both of you.”

She leaned over towards you, muttering the question right under her breath, “Jesus, has he always been this fucking crabby?” She nudged your shoulder with hers. “You must have the patience of a fucking saint to be able to deal with this on the daily. I would have killed him by now and then offed myself too with that fucking attitude.”

He stepped towards her. “What’d you just say—”

“Ellie.” Although you tried your hardest to reprimand her, instead, you found yourself fighting back another laugh. “Come on, let’s go before he strangles us both.” Taking her arm, you started leading her around to the other side of the truck. Dropping her arm, you reached for your own sleeping bag from the bed of it and started rolling it out. Though you were still fighting back a fit of giggles, you found it in you to offer her some words of advice. “Ellie, I know Joel is not the easiest person to deal with, but you really have to stop giving him so much shit, kid. The man has enough gray hair as it is. Take it easy on him, will you?”

“But I need to keep myself entertained somehow,” she replied with a small, innocent shrug of her shoulders. She unrolled her own sleeping bag, laying it out right beside where you had laid out yours; you saw a pensive look cross her face and after a second, she moved it closer to yours, leaving about a one inch gap of space between the two. For as scared shitless as you had been to take someone like her under yours and Joel’s care, the mere fact that Ellie seemed to feel safer being so close to you must have meant you were doing something right.

“Jacket,” You reminded her.

“I know, I know.” Ellie tugged on the spare jacket that you’d given her just minutes ago, zipping it up to her chin. She yawned, crawling into her sleeping bag. Before rolling over onto her side, she stopped and a tiny, tired smirk tugged at her lips as she looked up at you. “Wait. You and Joel aren’t going to bone each other tonight, are you? Because I might actually have to suffocate myself in this thing if you do.”

You sighed heavily. “And here I thought you were actually going to do me the favor of never bringing it up ever again.”

“What can I say? Giving you shit is almost as fun as giving it to Joel.”

You nudged her lightly with the toe of you worn, brown leather boot, chuckling as you told her, “Go to sleep, you little jerk.”

“Remember. Protection.” Ellie yawned again, rolling over. “G’night.”

“Goodnight, Ellie.”

The minute that you heard her soft snores coming from inside of the bag and you were certain she was asleep, you made your way back to the other side of the truck where you found Joel busy loading up and checking his rifle. Thankfully, hadn’t seemed to have heard what Ellie had just said to you. “I’ll take watch tonight,” You offered, holding out your hands and beckoning for the weapon. You instantly noticed the all too familiar look of protest on his face. “Joel, you were the last one to drive today and you’re fucking exhausted. Just let me take watch.”

“The whole damn point of me drivin’ all the way out here was so we can all get some rest without worryin’ about anyone findin’ us,” Joel reminded you. “And besides, I wasn’t plannin’ on standin’ watch. I was just makin’ sure this was ready to go, in case of an emergency.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Joel, please. I know you like I know the back of my own goddamn hand and I already know that I’m going to wake up in the middle of the night and I’m going to find you standing watch, regardless of how safe you say we are in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.” You continued holding your hands out for the rifle. “Look, my arms are getting tired here. Can you just give me the fucking gun please?”

“You need sleep—”

“We can swap places in a couple hours,” You compromised. “Deal?”

Knowing that you could be just as stubborn as he was, Joel grumbled something incoherently under his breath before finally shoving it into your waiting hands.

“Thank you. Now, was that really so hard?”

Joel scoffed, shoving past you. He reached into the bed of the truck and grabbed his own sleeping bag. “You really need to stop talkin’ to the kid so much. She’s startin’ to rub off on you and I don’t like it.”

“Sweet dreams, Joel,” You replied, watching as he stalked around to the other side of the Chevy where Ellie was fast asleep.

An hour later, you found yourself leaning against the cab of the truck, the sound of chirping crickets your only companion. You held the rifle gently, but still firmly in your grasp, your index finger gingerly resting on the trigger. You tilted your head backwards, gazing up at the stars in the velvet night sky—you tried not to let your mind wander off very far, but you couldn’t help thinking of what Ellie had said to you earlier that morning back in the woods.

He’s a guy who doesn’t seem to give a shit about too many things or too many people. But I know he does give a shit about you. He cares about you.

She was wrong. She had to be wrong. She was fourteen, she was just a kid, after all. Besides, what the fuck could she possibly know about you and Joel, especially after only having been with the two of you for about a week?

Ellie was sorely mistaken.

Joel only kept you around for his benefit.

And the meaningless sex wasn’t the benefit you were referring to.

Joel had always been the brawn, but both you and Tess had been the brains of the operation. That’s how it had always been, at least for the better part of the last few years. You might have been on the younger side in comparison to your smuggling partners, but for some reason, Tess had seen something in you—what it had been, you never had the opportunity to find out, but it made her take a chance on you.

Against Joel’s wishes, she decided that she would take you under her wing; at eighteen years old, you’d been closer to being a child than an adult, but that only meant your mind was still pliable, and she could work with it. By the time you reached your twenties, it was apparent that Tess had all but molded you into a miniature clone of herself—she’d shown you how to think outside the box, taught you how to be persuasive, how to keep trades or deals from going south, and most importantly, what to do if they somehow did go south.

Now that she was gone, you were all that Joel had left. You were what he was stuck with. After Tess died, there was a part of you that had to wonder if Joel felt the wrong person had been infected and killed. It’s not that you thought that Joel would rather it was you who were dead but the reality was that if he’d been given the choice between having you or Tess at his side for this, you were certain it wouldn’t be you.

But he hadn’t gotten a choice. 

It was you he ended up with, and you were his only shot at getting to Tommy and getting Ellie to where she needed to be. He needed help, and now that Tess was no longer here, you were the next best thing.

That was it.

A rustling sound nearby pulled you out of your train of thought. You immediately lifted your head and pushed yourself away from the cab, readying your weapon. You took quiet, careful steps and then sharply turned the corner around the bed of the truck, aiming the rifle at the figure in front of you with your finger still on the trigger.

“Fuckin’ relax!” Joel hissed at you, holding his hands up. “It’s me!”

“Jesus Christ!” You exhaled a sharp breath, lowering the gun. You narrowed your eyes at him. “You scared the fucking shit out of me, Joel! I just about shot your head off of your shoulders!”

“Your aim ain’t all that good, darlin’,” Joel stated as he walked up to you, a slight hint of amusement in his Southern drawl. “You keepin’ watch or zonin’ out over here?”

You ignored his teasing remarks. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Your heart squeezed tightly in your chest as Joel fell into step in front of you, an all too familiar lustful glimmer in his eyes.

“Couldn’t really sleep,” he stated with a shrug of his is shoulder. “Had somethin’ on my mind. But from the looks if it, I ain’t the only one lost in thought.” He peered down at you. “What were you thinkin’ about, anyhow?”

“Nothing,” You fibbed. “Just, uh, just how fucking cold it is.”

Joel reached for the rifle, taking it out of your hands. He leaned over and placed it in the bed of the truck behind you. “And you tell me that I’m a shitty liar?” he asked with a small scoff. “Let’s pretend that for a minute that I actually believe that’s what you were really thinkin’ about.” With every word that he spoke, his voice became lower, huskier. “If the cold is what’s on your mind, I know a couple different ways I can help get your mind off of it.”

“Joel—”

“C’mere.” He hooked his index fingers through two of the front belt loops of your blue jeans, yanking you forward until you came crashing against his chest. He dipped his head, his lips eagerly meeting an exposed patch of skin on your neck. As he kissed and nipped at the delicate flesh, he started to move his hands from the belt loops of your jeans over to the buttons instead.

“Joel, wait,” You mumbled weakly, cursing how your body just always seemed to melt right in his fucking hands. “Joel, stop.” You’d said it so softly into his failing right ear that he hadn’t heard you.

Joel’s mouth left your neck, finding your own mouth instead in a way that made every single nerve in your body light on fire. He started to walk you backwards until your back hit the bed of the pickup, a soft thud noise filling the air around you. He pinned you tightly between it and himself as he kissed you fiercely, hungrily. The physically intimate moments that you two shared over the years had always been relatively short due to never having the time nor the place, but maybe that’s why he kissed you the way that he did—with such urgency, with such desperation, as if his fucking life depended on it. Because it never lasted as long as he would have liked and he never knew when he would be able to get his hands on you again.

Breaking away from you slightly, Joel placed his hand on your hip, his index finger grazing the soft skin right above the waist of your jeans as he murmured breathlessly against your lips, “I want you. I gotta have you. Right fuckin’ now.”

It took just about every last ounce of strength that you had inside you to place both of your hands on his chest and gently push him back. “I don’t think we should do this, Joel. Not with Ellie being so close by.”

“She’s asleep.” He frowned, taking your hands off of his chest as he took several steps back from you looking dejected. “Unless you just don’t want—”

You were quick to stop him. “Of course I want you.” You swallowed, your throat having gone dry. “It’s just that—see, the thing is that—”

“Fuckin’ spit it out.”

So you do.

“Ellie knows, Joel.”

“What?” Even in the darkness, you could see the color draining from his face. “How?”

“Look, I really didn’t want to tell you about this. But last night in the woods when we were—” You trailed off, shifting your weight from one foot to the other almost anxiously.

“She saw us?”

“She heard us,” You corrected him. “She confronted me about it this morning before we left. I pretty much made her promise to keep her mouth shut because I didn’t want her saying anything to you about it. I didn’t want her giving you grief like she did to me.”

Joel ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “That little fucking shit—”

“It’s not her fault, Joel. And you know that. We shouldn’t have done it with her being so close by.”

You watched as he dropped his hand from his head, his jaw clenched.

“Joel, come on. Please don’t be mad about this.”

Joel fixed his eyes on the ground and tightly shook his head. “Go get some sleep. I’ll take over watch.”

“But Joel—”

“Just drop it,” he said, rigidly, his gaze refusing to meet yours. “Go.”

Knowing better than to push it, you simply nodded. “Okay.”

The moment you crawled into your sleeping bag next to Ellie, you’d tried your absolute hardest to get some shut eye, but what happened with Joel had you much too worried, and rightly so. Still, you prayed for sleep to come, but it never did and the rest of the night dragged on for what felt like a fucking eternity.

Hours later, when sunrise finally came around, you got up to find Joel had already been packing up the pickup truck, getting it ready for the long drive ahead. The second he saw you approaching him, he simply told you to wake Ellie because the three of you needed to get a move on sooner rather than later. After that, he’d hardly said another word to you.

He couldn’t even fucking look at you.

Halfway to Missouri, during a quick pitstop, Ellie had noticed the odd tension in the air between you and Joel. She’d also noticed how tired you looked. She offered to trade places and sit in as Joel’s copilot for the rest of the day, at least until you reached Kansas City.

“I think he’d actually prefer you as his copilot,” You’d muttered to her in reply, hopping into the backseat. Between the motion of the truck, the soft country music playing from another tape Ellie found, and the open windows bringing in fresh, crisp air, you’d curled up into a little ball in the backseat and passed out within minutes.

Ellie glanced over her shoulder at you, making sure you were actually asleep before turning to Joel. “She told you, didn’t she?”

“Zip it,” Joel ordered. “Ain’t none of your business.”

Ellie hummed. “Well, seeing as I had the absolute delightful pleasure of having to hear the two of you go at it like a couple of cats the other night, I think it actually is kind of my business now.” She paused. She could physically feel the way he was wincing beside her, though what was causing him to be so uncomfortable was left to be determined. Ellie would imagine that it was getting caught in the act itself, but for some reason, she sensed there was a lot more to this mess than met the eye and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. “She told me that you guys aren’t a thing—”

“We’re not a thing. We’re nothin’ at all, alright?”

Ellie blew a raspberry. “Yeah, alright. I see you’re both sticking to that story. That you’re not a thing.” She raised her fingers in quotations.

“It ain’t a story, it’s the truth. We’re nothin’ more than just a couple of smuggling partners tryin’ to get you to where the you need to be.” He glanced at her briefly, then turned back towards the road. “And if you want to make it there unscathed, I suggest you shut your mouth and focus on that map in your hands instead stickin’ your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I think I at least deserve an explanation after you two put me and my innocent little virgin ears through the wringer.”

“Ellie,” he warned.

It was almost kind of scary how she was already used him saying her name in that tone already. “You’ve been treating her shitty as fuck today, you know.”

Joel frowned. Even though he knew he didn’t need to defend himself to a fucking teenager, he found himself doing it anyway. “The hell are you talkin’ about? I haven’t said a single fuckin’ word to her today.”

“Exactly.” Ellie pointed her index finger at him. “It’s bothering her.”

“She’s a big girl, Ellie. If somethin’ is botherin’ her, then she can come and talk to me about it. She doesn’t need some kid helpin’ her out.”

“That’s the thing. She can’t talk to you about it.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Well, you’re not exactly the most approachable guy, dude.”

Joel gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Why the fuck do you care so much, anyway? You have other things to worry about. Like findin’ the fuckin’ Fireflies and helpin’ them create a vaccine that’s supposed to save the goddamn world.”

“Because,” Ellie said, refusing to allow him to change the subject, not when she felt like she was finally getting somewhere. “I like her. She’s a good person.”

Joel glanced up at the rearview mirror and looked at you as you slept soundly. He couldn’t deny that. Even in this shit world, even after the things you’d seen and all the people you’ve lost, you really were still a good person. You still hadn’t lost touch with your sense of humanity—that was one thing Tess never managed to change about you, the one thing that kept you from being identical to her, identical to Joel. You somehow hadn’t let this world turn you into stone, and maybe that is why you meshed well with them from the start. You brought this odd kind of balance that they hadn’t even known they needed.

That Joel didn’t know he needed.

“She likes you.” Ellie’s voice caused him to snap back to reality. “Lord fucking knows why.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, did I offend?” Ellie quirked an eyebrow, feeling a teeny smirk tug at the corners of her mouth. “Listen. All I’m saying is that she’s really young. And she’s really pretty. She’s nice, and smart as fuck, too. I bet she could probably have any guy that she fucking wants.” Her smirk only grew noticing how her words had gotten a rise out of Joel. Ellie could tell by the way his fingers had the steering wheel in a death grip, his knuckles ghost white. “And yet for some reason, she chooses to stick with you, you old fucker.”

“Listen here you little shit—”

She quickly held her hands up. “I’m just saying. She’s a good one, Joel.”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. “I know she is.”

Bingo! Ellie thought to herself. Now we’re making progress.

“So, then why not treat her the way she deserves? Why just—what’s that saying? Hit it and quit it?”

Joel tossed a glare at her. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“I’m not wrong though. That’s what it is, isn’t it?” Ellie prompted.

“No!”

“But just a minute ago you said you two were nothing. So if you two are boning, but you’re nothing, that’s like a hit it and quit it, isn’t it? Or is it a fuck it and chuck it? Hump it and dump it?” She scratched her head, wracking her brain as she tried to figure it out. Beside her, Joel was about ready to implode. “Wait a minute, that can’t be right because you guys do it all the time. You’re not actually quitting it. So, it’s hooking up, right?”

“I swear to Christ I’m gonna make you fuckin’ walk to Wyoming if you don’t shut—how the fuck do you know all that? That what they teach you kids in FEDRA school?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Ellie grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Level with me, old man. Do you like her or not?”

Joel’s teeth were gritted together, his sights fixed on the road ahead.

“Or do you love her?” She practically sang.

“Ellie.” He said her name warningly once again, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror. The last thing he needed was for you to wake up and hear this conversation; thankfully you were still out cold.

Ellie waved a hand at him. “Oh relax, the woman’s sleeping like a bear in hibernation. Now, answer the fucking question.”

Joel didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond.

He willed himself to open his mouth and say something—anything.

But he just couldn’t. He’d been stumped by a fucking fourteen year old who was too damn smart for her own good.

“Interesting,” Ellie mused after a minute of silence, curiously rubbing her chin. “How you can’t even deny it. Very, very, interesting.”

Before Joel could even think, the sound of you moving around in the backseat caused him to jump, the internal panic flooding him in one single wave. As soon as he was certain you were still fast asleep, he let out a breath of relief and turned to Ellie. “Now, you listen here—”

“Ah, ah, ah.” She held up her finger to her lips. “Let’s not wake Sleeping Beauty back there.” She dropped her hand down into her lap and glanced out the window, grinning to herself. “Besides, I have the answer I was looking for anyway.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller hbo #tlou imagine #tlou fanfiction #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n