#color schemes for summer wedding

[shaadiwish]

Adding a gorgeous bohemian themed decor is a great idea to introduce the vibe.

#color schemes for summer wedding #color schemes for summer weddings #color schemes for weddings #colors for summer weddings #decor #refreshing colors schemes #refreshing summer wedding colors #summer wedding 2023 #summer wedding colors #summer wedding decor #wedding color #wedding color combos #wedding color schemes #wedding colors #Wedding decor #wedding decor 2023 #wedding trends #wedding trends 2023 #Shaadiwish

[queers-gambit]

I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good

prompt: ( requested ) basking in the sunshine, breathing fresh air, bare skin tickled by tall grass, and Felix, who can't focus on the Half Blood Prince when his girl's got his full blooded attention.

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 2.3k+

note: i wrote this in an hour 'cause, you know, brainrot.

warnings: slight request variation (you'll see), there's probably cursing. anyways, suggestive language, no real spoilers, slight Ollie slander, college kids doing drugs, and no HP spoilers for those who haven't read.

All you could smell was his expensive cologne, barely breaking a sweat under the summer sun as he remained wrapped around you like a child did their mother on the first day of school. You were never one for suffocating affection nor clingy behavior, something leftover from childhood, but with your boyfriend, you craved it; and he knew it. He took advantage of it.

"Are you even listening or are you too busy trying to identify the smell of my shampoo?"

"Hmm? Yeah, yeah, 'M listenin', love, uh, you know, something about... Harry doing something stupid, yeah?"

You snorted lightly, head tilting back to look up at your boyfriend's amused expression. "A lucky guess - 'cause Harry's always doing some dumb shit."

"Yeah, you know, there's a reason he wasn't considered for Ravenclaw."

"Don't be mean, we all have our strengths and weaknesses," you gently reprimanded. "So he's not the smartest guy ever, but he's brave as hell, isn't he?"

"Has to be, being a Gryffindor and all."

"I doubt we would've done half this shit at 16."

"Totally right, we had other worries - like our first pregnancy scare."

"Felix!"

"What, doll face? Huh? C'mon, what's the quote? I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"

"Oh, you absolute cheesy fuck!"

His laugh could've echoed across the field, the two of you laid out on an oversized blanket; crushing the long grass surrounding his home, Saltburn. 'Home' always felt so mundane when describing the freaking castle his family inhabited; after all, his father, Sir James, was literally knighted - making the Cattons feel larger than life. You'd known the family for over a decade now, meeting Venetia on your first day of school when a rude boy smacked your lunch tray right out of your hands, being inducted to their family almost straight away.

As it turned out, your mother and father were friendly with Sir James and his wife, Elspeth Catton, and after only a month in your new town, you were invited to Saltburn for a family meal.

It became a monthly occurrence.

And when you started dating Felix when you were both 15, it was like life was simply alining with the stars. Destiny being fulfilled. Fate smiling on you both.

Your parents tried to play off the relationship, but after you turned 16, they realized how serious you two seemed about each other. And when you both decided to attend Oxford together (rejecting your father's alma mater, the University of Edinburgh), your mother made constant jibes about your wedding. At first, it was just a few, little, sometimes funny, but mostly harmless comments here and there, and then it escalated to full-on conversations between your mothers.

Like they had flowers and color scheme picked out, deciding on hosting at Saltburn, even debating wedding dress ideas! Your mother wanted something lacy, Elspeth wanted something form fitting and "sexy" - being where their opinions clashed and the conversation elevated to near arguments.

Anyways, laying on the blanket in the field, alone, became a regular occurrence for you and Felix once you realized the absolute HOLD the Harry Potter series had on you both. Where the brother and sister had matching HP star tattoos on their hands, that had convinced you to get a set of three stars - your only tattoo, nestled behind your left ear. Venetia technically got you into the series, letting you borrow the first book, and then gifting you each book once published; but it was more like a "tradition" to read them with Felix.

See, when you were younger, you had a stutter that made you wildly insecure, but reading out loud helped you work through it. Was it a perfect system? Of course not, but your boyfriend was adamant that it'd help - and eventually, it did. So much so, you received top marks in each of your public speaking or debate classes, something the Catton's still praised you over.

Felix liked listening, and the times you got a little tongue-tied and frustrated, he would take over to let you a small reprieve. Today was no different, laid in the field, the grass tickling your bare feet and calves as the sun soaked into your bare skin. Either of you only wore a pair of sunglasses, Felix sat up on his elbow to support your body laid against his; his fingers dancing light patterns over whatever body part he could reach. Currently, it was your hip.

He laid quick kisses where he could, whispered sweet nothings in your ear, used his teeth to nibble your flesh. Anything to make you trip over your words, like the little shit he was.

You felt your breathing shift when Felix's lips and tongue ghosted up your neck, sweeping stray strands of hair from your shoulder before his fingertips were ghosting over your collarbone and down your chest to tweak your nipple. The cold of his bracelets and watch on your sticky skin felt like a drastic contrast to the warmth of the day.

"You're infuriating, I'm trying to read," you scolded, swatting his hand away; but smirking in amusement that assured him you weren't truly annoyed.

"Roll over, sweetheart, I needa rest my arm," he muttered in your ear, licking the shell - making you squirm with a small giggle.

"Can you behave? For once?"

"How can I? When you look like this? I mean, Goddamn, I really got the prettiest girl, don't I?" He smirked, watching you lift off his chest to roll onto your stomach; perched on your elbows. "Now, that's a sight, might be my favorite," he grinned, bringing his hand down to smack one of your arse cheeks - palming the flesh tightly, giving a jiggle for his amusement.

"Felix!" You squealed, fully anticipating this treatment; trying to hide your full-teeth grin.

"C'mon, love, let's get a bit naughty," he teased. "Oliver doesn't get here for another two days, we're not gonna be alone much longer."

You scoffed lightly, "You're the one who had to befriend The Clinger."

"Oi, c'mon now, tellin' me t'be nice about Harry? Don't call him that, love, he's just a lonely chap. Needs a friend."

You hummed, readjusting the book under you. "He's a bit creepy, Fi," you admit. "I mean, he stares - like a lot. And remember I told you, I saw him looking through your dorm window that one night?"

He sighed, "He was just drunk, love, we've been over this."

"You're so quick to excuse him," you noted, offering him a bewildered look as he readjusted to lean over your back. His head nuzzled between your shoulder blades, letting a hand pet down the slope of your spine; forcing a small tremor through your muscles.

"He's got no one else."

"Doesn't mean he needs you, my sweet boy. Honestly, you stretch yourself too thin. Maybe if you focused less on these so-called friends and more on your studies...?"

"I appreciate the worry, babygirl," he mused, laying three kisses to your shoulders, "but it's all right, got you quizzing me nightly. Swear, you know my coursework better than I do. And besides, you're the one who says there's no such thing as too many friends."

"Hm," you let your eyes roll slightly, "I was obviously high when I said that and probably didn't mean bloody Oliver."

"Speaking of," he grinned, reaching for the rucksack he brought with you; now hosting your clothes, but also carrying the Altoid tin he used to store pre-rolled joints.

"Are you even listening to the story anymore, baby?"

"Of course I am, toots, I can multi-task." You hummed in response, waiting for him to finish lighting up before continuing onto a new paragraph; feeling him shift on your back. But you faltered when smoke blew against your cheek, Felix's lips descending a moment later to noisily smooch your skin. "You're so fucking pretty," he mumbled.

"I think you have ADHD."

"We knew that."

"Maybe you need something for that."

"Because I'm not listening to Harry Potter?"

"I knew it!" You laughed, shivering again when his free hand drew up your spine to nestle in your hair; handing you the joint with the other. "Fi, you're still distracting me," you moaned slightly, leaning your head back into his touch - contradicting your own words.

"You're doin' great, love," he grinned, licking the skin behind your ear, at your tattoo. "Keep goin', c'mon, I wanna hear what happens next."

"You're gonna reread this chapter when I go to bed, aren't you?"

Felix paused, "Maybe."

You grunted, dropping your head to the book before lifting it again and taking an inhale from the joint. Felix grinned at you in mischief, rolling over onto his back; hand behind his head as he stared up at you. You shook your head at him, handing the joint over before shuffling so you were laid on his chest with the book spread open in one hand.

"Love?" He mumbled.

"Hmm?" You glanced at him.

"Maybe... Uh, yeah, maybe start the chapter over? I'm a bit lost," he snickered, coughing when you tisked at him and offered a slightly annoyed look. "C'mon, baby, you can't tell me you were totally focused, either! You love me touching you, I can see it on your face."

To prove his point, the arm he had wrapped around you drifted to, once more, take a handful of your ample bottom - causing you to gasp slightly.

But you pouted, "I kinda want to finish this chapter, baby."

"And I'm distracting you?"

"Obviously."

Felix laughed, "Spot on Professor Snape, baby."

"If I read like Snape the rest of the chapter, will you pay attention to me?"

"You know what? I don't know, that voice is kinda a turn on... Everything you do is a turn on, doll."

"You'd think the consistent fucking we do would rein in your hormones."

"Nah," he tutted, squeezing his hand, "not when I got a girl like you, gettin' me all riled up. I mean, Half-Blood Prince, who? Got me full blooded, right here." You chuckled when he glanced at his cock, folding the book closed and deflating onto his chest and accepting the joint again. "Oh, c'mon, don't stop, 's just gettin' good!"

"You were calling Harry stupid literally 5 minutes ago."

"Come off it, when isn't he?"

"When he's fighting Voldemort?"

"Hm," he considered, tucking his hand into your hair to massage your scalp; gently pulling through your hair. "You might have a point."

"And now Dumbledore's - "

"Hey, hey, no spoilers!"

"It's not a spoiler if you were listening to me!"

"I'm always listening," he whined, you blowing smoke across his abdomen; watching his abs contract from the slight tickle; his cock bobbing from the movement and making you flush with heat not from the sun. "You're just so much more interesting, hmm?" He mumbled.

"Hey, hey. Flattery gets you everywhere with me," you teased, loving the easiness of his smile. "C'mon, pretty boy, your turn."

He took the joint from you, watching you try to pull back - but tightening his arm. "Stay here, love havin' you close," he mumbled, placing the joint to his mouth and reaching for the book again. Not wanting his arm to retract from your form, you reached up to take the joint from him; listening as he went back to the beginning of the chapter while your leg hiked up his hips.

Every other puff, you fed Felix the joint until there was nothing left; wee small roach being stubbed out in the dirt, leaving you two relaxed, high, and laid over one another as he continued to lazily read. But his hand still traced invisible patterns over your skin, the warmth of the sun making you sweat, but the way your boyfriend touched you made you shiver.

He knew you loved it, yet didn't so much as stutter on a single word when his smirk would grow feeling your reactions to his touches.

At the end of the chapter, he glanced down at you and let his lips follow; tightening his arm to bring you in closer, leaving repeated kisses on your forehead. You squirmed closer, giggling and bringing your hand up to hook around the back of his neck, directing him to your lips as he rolled over so you were on your back and he was hovering over you. "You're distracting me, now, li'l minx," he teased.

"Oh, how unfair, what ever shall you do?"

He chuckled, pecking your lips twice more, then asking, "Another chapter or...?"

"Yes, one more chapter," you laughed, "but then we're gonna have to head back up, your mum wanted my help with something."

"Oh, she's got you some new dresses she wants you to try," he relaid.

"I thought she stopped doin' that?"

"She loves spoiling you," Felix eased. "And Venetia stopped letting Mum dress her, so, you know... Here, you read this one."

You agreed, letting him readjust so he was sat up again, keeping you between his spread legs so he could peer down at the book from over your shoulder. Was it distracting, feeling his fully blooded cock at your back? Absolutely. Was it mildly erotic for you to ignore it and continue reading - as if his warmth wasn't making you wet? Also, yes.

"Fi," you whispered when his lips danced across your shoulder. "Distracting me, again," you half-scolded.

"You're doin' great, love," he chuckled.

But he didn't stop, it was like he was turning himself on (more) by his soft, gentle touches; and being spurred onward when he noted the way your chest heaved when your breath changed.

"Keep goin'," he whispered in your ear, dragging his hands up to cup either bare breast and swipe his thumbs around your nipples to stiffen them into peaks.

"Felix - "

"Don't stop," he encouraged, "'s real endearing the way you're tryna fight this."

"You try to get between me and Potter one more time, we're going on a sex strike."

There was a pause as you looked up at him, both sharing growing grins before bursting into echoing laughter that Venetia heard from one of the loungers close to the house. She grinned to herself, turning the page of her own Half-Blood Prince book.

requesting rules and masterlist

Saltburn masterlist

#felix catton #felix catton imagine #felix catton fluff #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x reader #felix catton x fem! reader #felix catton x you #fix it felix #saltburn #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn felix #saltburn felix catton #saltburn imagine #jacob elordi

[starsandhughes]

Penalty Box Series— Imagines Edition: Little Bird

totaalllyyy not projecting a little bit here! (this is a lie. i cried for two hours straight over this song.)

here’s a little wedding planning fic! happy ending! i promise!

warnings: crying, mentions of a rough childhood, particularly absent fathers

word count: ~1.8k

22-23 Season/Summer Series Masterlist

—————

The last thing you wanted while starting to plan your wedding was to have a mental breakdown in front of everyone.

And by everyone, you mean everyone. Trevor, Jack, Quinn, Luke, Cole, Alex, and your essentially adoptive parents Ellen and Jim.

You had your music on shuffle as you started looking at color schemes and flower arrangements. It was great at first— the speaker played Taylor, early 2000s pop music, Morgan Wallen and other country songs, 5SOS, and even some One Direction.

And then Little Bird by The Jonas Brothers came on.

You barely noticed it at first, treating it more like background music. Until the chorus. And the second verse. And the rest of the song.

'Cause I know if I'm doin' my job correct

Nights like these will happen less

So please just keep me in your heart

When you fly into somebody else's arms, little bird

Yeah, yeah

Walked down the aisle, breakin' my heart

Lay down my pride, I know I gotta let you go

'Cause he's gonna love you when I gotta leave you

Gotta believe it when the Lord takes me home

You got a little emotional at the chorus and decided to push past it. It was just a song. But when Joe started singing about a father walking his daughter down the aisle, you lost it.

Trevor was quick to jump out of his seat and wrap his arms around you. He was standing while you were still sitting, cradling your head into his chest and rubbing your back.

“Turn it off,” Trevor said softly, but urgently, to Jack.

Jack ushered to the speaker and unplugged it, ceasing the music in the middle of the next chorus. Trevor and Quinn shared a panicked look. Everyone was dead silent and still, no one knew what to do. The lyrics that got to you were wedding and father related. The whole song is about a father’s love for his daughter, something that your biological father didn’t have for you.

“I won’t be offended if you need Quinn, sweet girl,” Trevor whispered to you. “Just nod your head if it’s him you need.”

“B-both,” you choked out.

That took your fiancé off guard. He wasn’t sure if there was ever a moment where you needed both of the two most important people to you during a breakdown.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Quinn said.

Trevor slowly released his hold and held out both of his hands for you to take. He pulled you up and threw one arm around your shoulder and used his other to place a comforting hand on your upper arm.

You bit back your sobs as you left the kitchen to go upstairs into your and Trevor’s room in the lake house. The second the door closed behind you, you threw yourself into Quinn’s arms, who was sitting on the edge of the bed.

Quinn wrapped you up tight, and Trevor sat down close to you and Quinn and returned to rubbing your back in soothing circles.

“It’s alright, Sissy,” Quinn cooed. “We got you. You’re safe. Let it all out.”

You violently sobbed into your best friend’s chest. Your entire body was shaking; there was no way that the rest of your loved ones downstairs couldn’t hear you.

“Why didn’t he want me?!” you shouted through your cries. Then, softer, “Why didn’t he love me?”

“He didn’t deserve you,” Quinn answered low.

“He still doesn’t deserve you,” Trevor elaborated on Quinn’s words.

You continued to bawl. You sobbed so hard that your head was starting to pound. You sobbed so loud that your throat was burning. The boys stayed mostly quiet, only occasionally offering assuring whispers of “it’s alright,” and “let it out” variations.

Your sobs, over half an hour later, eventually died down into a silent cry with only sniffles as a tell.

“He doesn’t deserve me,” you said weakly.

“That’s right, Quinn agreed. “You decide who deserves you. And I think five year old you made the decision that your biological parents don’t the first time they forgot to pick you up from our house.”

“I always liked it better there.”

Quinn kisses the top of your head, “We liked it better when you were there. We worried when you weren’t.”

At some point during your breakdown, you had laid down in Quinn’s lap. You slowly sat up and turned slightly to dive into Trevor’s chest. You wrapped your arms around his waist and he pulled your legs over so that you were sitting between his legs, turning you towards Quinn so that you could see him and he could still place his hand on you. Trevor put his arms around you and started to stroke your hair while his cheek rested on top of your head.

“You deserve me,” Trevor whispered. “You deserve everything and I plan to give it to you.”

“You already have,” you told him, hugging him tighter.

“Then I’ll give you everything and more. And I’ll tell you every day that you deserve me. And Quinn. And Jack. And Luke, Cole, Alex, Jamie, Ellen, Jim, all our teammates, and every single hockey player that you’ve deemed your son.”

Trevor’s words brought more cries from you, but in a good way this time. Quinn lifted your legs and scooted closer to Trevor so that he could lay your legs across his lap. You kept one arm tightly around Trevor, but you held your other hand out for Quinn to hold.

Quinn grabbed it and squeezed it gently, “I’ve never met anyone more loved than you.”

“You’d probably explode with any more love,” Trevor quipped. He smiled when he got a small chuckle out of you. He always knew when it was okay to lightly joke to help get you feeling better. You love that about him.

“Quinn?”

“Yeah, Sissy?”

“I know I originally asked you to walk me down the aisle, but would you be offended if I asked Jim to?”

Quinn broke out into a smile at your question.

“Not at all. I think it’s a great idea,” he answered.

“How about you officiate us?” Trevor suggested. “And I’ll finally cave and let Y/N have Cole as her Man of Honor instead.”

“I’d be honored,” Quinn said.

You didn’t say it out loud yet, but something about Trevor asking Quinn’s permission to ask you out on a date and then asking him to marry you two brought you immense joy. It felt like your story together was coming full circle. It was perfect.

You held on to Trevor’s hand as the three of you made your way back downstairs. Everyone’s eyes were immediately directed towards you, all of them filled with either worry or sympathy.

Jack got up off the couch and walked over to you, “Want a hug? Or do you want Trevor?”

You gave your brother a soft smile and wrapped your arm that wasn’t attached to Trevor around his waist. Jack’s arms slid around your shoulders as he held you in a firm hug.

“How do you want to ask this?” Trevor asked you.

“Ask what?” Cole asked. “Are you eloping? Are you asking for permission to elope?”

“No, dumbass,” you laughed lightly. “We do have something to ask of you, though. You and um… Dad.”

The room stilled. It had been addressed multiple times that Quinn was walking you down the aisle.

Cole and Jim moved so that they were sitting next to each other on the couch; you and Trevor took a seat on the ottoman.

You turned your attention to Jim, “I’ve already talked to Quinn, and he’s not offended or anything. But Trevor and I— well, I guess mainly me, decided to ask if you’d like to walk me down the aisle instead? You’ve been a dad to me for almost all my life. Not just a father, but a dad, too. And I’d—“

You started to get choked up. Everyone now knew what you were going to ask, but it was clear that you wanted to get it out. Trevor rubbed your back for some encouragement and to help calm you.

“I’d like you to walk me down the aisle,” you said.

Ellen was crying, and Jim had the happiest face on him that you’ve ever seen.

He took your hands in his as his eyes started to water a bit as well, “I’d like nothing more.”

You got up and hugged him, really hugged him. Quinn means so much to you, but you weren’t really sure why you didn’t go with the most obvious and important father figure in your life in the beginning of planning. Hell, you’ve been calling him “dad” since you were in middle school and really started to understand things about life.

You wiped some tears as you pulled away and forced out a fake laugh to shake off some of the intense emotions you were still feeling. You sat back down and faced Cole this time to ask him your next question.

“I know Trevor and I originally asked you to marry us, but since Quinn isn’t walking me anymore, Trevor had the idea of him marrying us instead. He asked Quinn’s permission to date me in the first place, which obviously later turned into us being boyfriend and girlfriend, so I thought it was a perfect idea that he’d be the one making us husband and wife.

“I was originally going to ask Taryn, but I haven’t yet so she doesn’t even have to know. So, Cole?”

“Yes?” he smiled. He knew what was coming.

“Would you be my Man of Honor?”

Cole dived towards you and tackled you into a hug, “I would be HONORED to be your Man of Honor, best friend number two!”

You let out a real laugh as Cole snuggled himself against you even harder to where his face was practically making a permanent indent in the ottoman cushion.

“Alright! Tell me how you really feel,” you teased.

“Nothing else has changed, right?” Jack asked. “I’m still one of Trevor’s best men?”

“Yeah, bud,” Trevor assured him. “I’ve got my groom party set in stone.”

You were really happy with your decision. Yeah, sometimes your past comes back to you with a vengeance, but you just have to take a step back and remember all the good that the bad brought.

Your fucked up family brought you a real family.

A family that every one of your school classmates thought you were apart of anyways.

A family that showed you what a family should be.

A family that showed you what love was.

A family that still shows you what love is.

A family that brought you the love of your life.

A family that brought you the best people in your life.

A family that brought you back to life.

It wasn’t that day, but eventually you were able to listen to Little Bird with a smile. You sing along to it with so much heart and emotion every time; all because of Jim Hughes.

All because of your real dad.

You’ve been a Hughes for seventeen years. And soon, you’ll be Mrs. Zegras-Hughes to finally, legally, solidify that.

You can’t wait.

———

reblogs appreciated! it helps spread the fic <3

#penalty box series #penalty box series: imagines edition #penalty box series: imagines #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras au #trevor zegras angst #trevor zegras fluff #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes #cole caufield #hughes brothers #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

[starkwlkr]

Hiiii!! i really like your works and wanted to ask if it’s possible to do something with Marco Bezzecchi and motogp or formula1 driver reader?

stressed bride | marco bezzecchi

note: i am not accepting anymore requests!

It seemed like they never could get any time alone, but Marco and Y/n made it work. They had different schedules with Y/n being in F1 and Marco being in MotoGP. At one point the couple even considered breaking up, but Marco didn’t want to lose her. During the MotoGP break, Marco and Y/n spent their limited days in Mallorca. Their last day together before Y/n had to leave for her next race ended up being the day Marco proposed.

And of course she said yes.

When she returned to the paddock, Y/n proudly wore her engagement ring. Fans knew she was in a relationship with Marco so they were happy and excited for the couple.

“Woah! That’s a huge rock you got there.” Daniel was the first one to notice the shiny ring on her finger.

“Wait . . Oh my god! You’re getting married! Congratulations!” Lando realized and hugged the woman.

“Thank you.” Y/n laughed.

“I expect my invite soon. I need to get fit for my tux.” Daniel jokingly said.

“I’m hoping we even have time to send invitations out. I don’t even know when we are going to see each other again.” Y/n sighed. She really wanted that dream wedding that every little girl dreamed of, but there was that possibility that it wouldn’t happen because of scheduling.

It was like the gods were on Y/n’s side or something. In between races, she found herself staying up late searching up venues, booking appointments for wedding dresses. When the F1 summer break started, she traveled to Marco’s next race and showed him her wedding progress.

“Have you gotten any sleep?” Marco noticed the tired look on her face.

“I slept on the flight. I need your opinion on the color scheme.” Y/n showed him several color schemes on her phone.

Marco grabbed her phone and put it in his back pocket. “I want you to stay here and get some rest. You need it.”

“But I don’t want to miss your race.” Y/n replied.

“There’s plenty of races left. Nothing is going to happen if you miss one race.” Marco placed a kiss on her lips.

“But—”

“I know how hard you’re working on our wedding and I appreciate it. I know we don’t get a lot of time together. But i also know that you need sleep and staying up looking at wedding books is keeping you from that. We can get married next year or the year after that or in five years. Shit, I think I would even marry you after the race if you let me. We don’t have to rush this.” Marco said.

“What if we break up before we say I do?”

There was also THAT possibility. But Marco would never break up with her and she would never break up with Marco. They were stuck with each.

“Promise me you won’t go down to the garage to watch the race?”

“I promise. But when you come back, you and I are going to find out where we want to have our honeymoon.”

“Deal.”

Netflix, Drive To Survive

“I’m Y/n L/n and i race for (whichever team you want)” Y/n introduced herself to the camera.

“Welcome back. Is there anything different?”

Y/n knew what the Netflix team was referring to. She raised her left hand and showed the camera the ring Marco had given her.

“I’m married!”

Before the year ended, Y/n and Marco finally got their chance to say i do. Netflix only had permission to film the wedding planning part, but it resulted in the fans getting more Marco and Y/n content.

“Congratulations! Are you changing your last name?”

“That takes a lot of paperwork. I barely survived planning my own wedding and racing. He knows I love him, but I’m just Y/n L/n right now. Maybe in like two years I’ll finally change my last name.” Y/n said.

Marco was fine with her not changing her last name. At least Y/n finally got her dream wedding.

#inbox <3 #anon #motogp imagine #motogp x reader #motogp fanfic #marco bezzecchi imagine #marco bezzecchi x reader #marco bezzecchi #f1 driver!reader

[ashwhowrites]

I have a request, an angst one. It’s based by a song it’s called “the one that got away” by Katy Perry. YOU CAN MAKE IT FLUFFY OR ANGST FOR THE ENDING!!! Bcz I know people will ask for part two if you leave it angst.

Thank you so much! Love your writing btw, keep up the great work! Tag me once it’s published if you ever do it! @josephquinnlover0

Let's do it! I hope this is what you wanted. It does end happy !!

I am aware Eddie Munson would never sing this song, but he is today. I tweaked a little bit of the lyrics to fit his point of view. So the fic does not match exactly to the lyrics.

In modern times with social media and all that

Not proofread

~~~

Summer after high school when we first met

We make out in your Mustang to Radiohead

And on my 18th birthday, we got matching tattoos

Eddie wanted to leave Hawkins the second he graduated, he wanted a fresh start, a place where he could have a new reputation. He got a job at a bar, working to save up money so he can move out of the state. At that very bar, he met Y/N. A girl who soon became the girl of his dreams.

They were bartenders together, he'd play guitar on the slow nights, and she'd watch from the bar. She'd sing along as she helped customers.

Once their shift was done they'd race to her Mustang, climb in the backseat and make out for hours. But she also lay in his arms, playing with his fingertips as he ranted about wanting to leave Hawkins behind, but he couldn't imagine leaving her. Even with how much she worked, all her money went to keeping food on the table for her siblings. Her parents were barely around, they couldn't take care of themselves, let alone their children.

On his twenty-first birthday, they raced to the tattoo shop. Being together for over a year, and feeling more in love than ever. They wanted to be connected forever. So they got matching tattoos.

Now it was a painful reminder for Eddie every single day.

The perks of her parents never being around meant that once Eddie and Y/N got her siblings to bed, they could sneak out to the roof, a bottle of liquor in hand.

Used to steal your parents' liquor and climb to the roof

Talk about our future like we had a clue

Never planned that one day, I'd be losing you

She would lay in his arms, head against his shoulder. Together they would talk about their future, a future together. He talked about how one day he would propose at that shitty bar, promising to be hers forever in the same spot he met her. She talked about their wedding, her idea of her dress, and the color scheme.

Eddie never thought one day he'd never talk to her again.

In another life

I would be your girl

We keep all our promises

Be us against the world

When Eddie went to bed at night, he dreamed of another life. A life where they got their future together. She would be his girl and all the promises they made would stay true. It would be them against the world.

In another life

I would make you stay

So I don't have to say

You were the one that got away

The one that got away

In another life, he would have stayed, never taking that record deal. He would have turned back around when she begged him to stay.

He would be with her.

He wouldn't have to admit she was the one he let get away.

Eddie heard from Steve she got her tattoo removed, and it stung. Eddie traced the design, now even more bittersweet knowing the other half is now nonexistent.

Someone said you had your tattoo removed

Saw you downtown singing the blues

Its time to face the music

I'm no longer your muse

He saw a video of her singing at the bar. She used to sing in the kitchen as they danced. They wrote so many songs together, some songs he still sings to this day, to a crowd that doesn't know who the muse was. But he knew.

Listening to her sing brought back the memories, the songs she wrote about being in love with him. Now her songs don't relate to him at all, time to face it, he is no longer her muse.

Eddie made it big. He achieved his dream. He left Hawkins and moved out to Hollywood. Signed a record deal and is now drowned in money. But yet, none of that money could give him the chance to turn back time. He could buy anything in the world, but nothing would replace her, and he hated that he learned that too late.

All this money can't buy me a time machine, no

Can't replace you with a million rings, no

I should've told you what you meant to me, whoa

'Cause now I pay the price

He should have told her she meant more to him than any dream he had before her. He hated that it took him leaving her to realize she was his dream.

Now he has to pay the price.

Now Eddie returned to Hawkins, his tail between his legs as he arrived at the very bar. His guitar case was in his hand as he walked through the doors. His eyes caught the big sign that stated his name in bold letters.

In another life, I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were the one that got away

The one that got away

"Eddie Munson returns, Live tonight at 8"

People were running up to him, asking for autographs, and expressing their excitement for his show. But his eyes stayed on the bar, looking to see if she would still be working there.

When he made it to the stage, the spotlight blinded him but he was able to see her through it. She hasn't changed in the two years he has been gone. Her hair was longer than before, but everything was the same. She looked just as beautiful as the day he left.

And she was looking back right at him. That same look of adoration and love in her eyes. A smile proud smile on her face as she clapped along with the crowd. He noticed her siblings sitting in the corner booth, huge smiles as they took him in.

He took a deep breath and strummed his guitar

"This is called, the one that got away"

~~~

Once Eddie finished his set, he walked to the bar. A nervous smile on his face as he walked up to her.

"Hey there rockstar," She smiled, walking around the bar to give him a hug. He could feel his body relax into her, wrapping his arms around her and keeping her close. Inhaling her scent as he kissed her head.

"Hi gorgeous, how are you?" He asked, pulling away to look at her closer. She smiled and stepped back, his body already missing her touch.

"I'm doing alright. The same old thing. Mom and Dad finally gave up, I saved up enough money to get my own apartment, and took the kids with me." She explained

"I'm glad you were able to move out. You deserved that. I see the little ones are not so little anymore." Eddie smiled, a little sad he missed out on watching them grow up. He spent every day with them for two years straight.

"Thanks. I see you are doing amazing! All over social media, magazines, and tv. I'm proud of you, Eddie." And he could tell she meant every word. He left her behind and yet here she was, supporting him every step of the way.

"Thank you, that means a lot. Things might look amazing but I've been struggling," Eddie admitted. He missed her and he wanted her back.

"Oh, do you need to talk? I'm about to go on break" She offered

~~~

Eddie paced behind the bar, cracking his knuckles as he waited for her.

"What's going on?" She asked politely

"I didn't come here to do the gig. I'm here for you. I miss you. Leaving you was the biggest mistake I have ever made." Eddie admitted. Reaching forward to cup her jaw.

She let herself melt into it

"I never blamed you, Eddie. Your dream was at your fingertips. I never should have asked you to stay, that wasn't fair. I mean I had no real life, I worked and took care of my siblings. Shit, I still do. Why would you want to stay? There was nothing here for you." She said, turning her head to kiss his palm.

"You're wrong. I thought it was my dream but I feel like I've been in a nightmare since I left. I had to leave to find out that you were my dream all along and you still are. I had a reason to stay, and she was across from me. And now she's the reason why I'm back. I still love you and I never tried to move on. I promised my heart was beating for you, and that's a promise I didn't break." Eddie admitted. Stepping closer, leaning his face closer to hers.

Her eyes were welling up with water.

"I still love you too. I never tried to move on either. I missed you every day and the idea of being someone else's just put salt in the wound. I missed you." She confessed, watching as he looked into her eyes, leaning down to ghost his lips over hers.

His eyes asked, and she replied by leaning up. Smashing her lips onto his. He moaned the second he tasted her again, wrapping his arms around her waist. His stomach did flips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, hands digging themselves into his hair.

"Thank you for coming back," she whispered against his lips as she pulled back. Small pecks to his lips between each word.

"I also came here to do something," Eddie admitted. A smirk on his face as he stepped back.

She looked at him confused, watching as he got down on his knee

"Munson..." she trailed off

"I came here to do something we always dreamed about," He started, she gasped as he went into his pocket, taking out a small ring. "I left once, and I've regretted it since. You are my dream, my life, and my future. I promised you I'd ask you to marry me at the bar we met, promise to be yours forever, so what do you say? Marry me?" Eddie asked, a smile on his face as she cried into her hands.

"Yes! Oh my gosh, Yes." She cried out, placing her left hand in front of him, allowing him to slip the ring on her finger. She admired the ring, it was gorgeous.

He got off his knee, standing straight as he cupped her face and leaned in, placing his lips on hers.

"Us against the world, right?" He whispered

"Forever" She whispered back, pecking his lips.

"I don't care if we stay in this shitty town, or move anywhere you want. As long as I have you, I'm happy to be anywhere." Eddie said

"Me too."

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @josephquinnlover0

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #rockstar! eddie x reader #rockstar eddie munson #ashwhowrites

[bloodcasket]

A BEGINNING, AND AN END

PAIRING: Vergil Sparda x GN!Reader

WARNINGS: Not proof-read, angst, mentions of readers death, depression, loss, loneliness, a relationship that is crumbling.

WC: 1,650

DESCRIPTION: Vergil wonders what exactly he did that made him lose you. He breaks as he realizes his mistakes, and that he will never be able to hold you again.

A/N: This work was rushed!!!!!!!!!! I literally just had a vomit post of all my sad little ideas. Currently hyper-fixated on Vergil! Probably will write more for him. I imagined this concept last night, and I kid you not, I cried.

Marriage was a concept created for foolish beings who wished to bind themselves to one another. When Vergil lived through his life, blinded by a pursuit of power, such things like marriage were nothing but a stupid scheme.

Why would he wish to be controlled by someone? Tied down to them? Love was nothing. Love was idiocy. That is what he thought, after all.

Then you came.

A human, young and kind. You placed your hand in his, pressed your silken lips along his bruised knuckles, and kissed his ruined skin. You promised him love. You showed him peace. You introduced him to light and laughter and mirth.

It was then, after the many days of holding you and growing to love you, that he realized why people did such “foolish” traditions. He grew weak with you. Became sensitive. Was not embarrassed to be genuine with you. He had finally decided.

He would propose.

You had tears swelling up along your waterline, slipping down your upturned cheeks as you smiled, you sobbed the words “Of course I will marry you”.

He married you.

The marriage was simple, no one but you two to promise yourselves to each other. He had found an old church to hold the ceremony, the ceilings tall and pointing to the sky. The tinted glass waned bright colors over your bashful face, your eyes glittering with devotion before you leaned in to kiss him. A kiss to ensure eternity.

Your fingers trembled against his as he slipped the wedding band on, he had not realized his cool façade has cracked along with yours. He was crying with you, so ecstatic to finally have someone who can understand him.

Someone who won’t judge him, someone who will tell him it will be okay. To hold him close in the night when he had nightmares. To lay their head in his lap as he read out his favorite poems.

“Vergil, stand over by the tree! I want to take a picture of you!” you giggled happily, face contorting into an expression that can only be described as glee. You held up your camera, adjusting the device to be suited for the brightened, summer day.

“And what for?” your husband seemed annoyed, looking at you with a nonchalant grimace. “Because I want to capture memories, now go, go!”. You shooed him away, begging him to find purchase near the weeping willow tree. It’s arms swaying in the gentle breeze, faded green leaves swooping overhead, tangled moss falling to the soil.

He obeys, acting as if this was something pointless, but internally, he was blissful, full of pride at the acknowledgement of your adoration. He stands, watching as you snap the picture, and then returns to your side gracefully.

“Well? Was that to your liking?” he asks, leaning down to see the picture, and you nod with a grin, telling him “thank you”.

This was something that became quite frequent. You had recently started to indulge in art, and had brought up to him that you would paint his portraits.

And paint you did.

Your works were wonderful. Your art room his secret sanctuary. A gallery of only him, painted with oils and acrylics, colors that portray him to be a god amongst this tiny Earth.

Inspired by a simple, small photo of him. A photo that is always captured by you.

You enjoyed comparing his white hair to the color of a rich magnolia. Consistently painting him alongside the elegant flowers. You had told him once that they reminded you of him. They were sensitive to the human touch, turning brown from the oils of a selfish finger caressing it. They were independent, and were beautiful while they kept to themselves.

Just like him.

Relationships are hard. He understands this. He knows that if he does not give enough, the ones he finds dear will crumble away. Loyalty, honesty, generosity, quality time, devotion….. so much he must do to keep you satisfied.

He tries, he’s a perfectionist, but when you two wander in public, see the other couples mold into one another, he feels ashamed. He does not like to hold your hand in public, and he feels tense when you initiate certain intimacy. You would get bored of him, wouldn’t you?

He admires how easy you make it look, how you strip him of his clothes, settle him in the tub, speak reassuring words of praise as you scrub the grime off his beaten skin. He relaxes under your touch, wonders why of all people, you chose to be with him. How you don’t hesitate to bend to his will, run miles to retrieve whatever he wants. Speak honeyed words, just enough to make him melt.

You’ve helped rid his nightmares, you’ve made him feel alive. He only dreams of bliss, of divine moments shared with you.

Moments like you and him, taking pictures under the willow tree.

But yet, he cannot even find the courage to move forward. To give you the smallest things you desire.

He grows sour. For once, he feels powerless. Inferior.

He can never give you what you want.

Recently he has grown colder to your touch. Shallow and incoherent with any simple notion.

You will try to reach for him, your pinkie grazing the side of his firm hand. He only tugs away, resisting your affection. You will plead to bathe him, massage the ache in his shoulder blades. He only denies your wishes to care for him.

Your paintings become more erratic than before, a sense of gloom in their glistening wake. A sheen of desolation hidden amongst the thick lines of paint. You have lost inspiration. His divinity and blue aura that was once captured by the bristles of your paintbrush are now fading into a melancholic art piece.

You are afraid you have lost him.

You two seem to get in an argument one night. It is after an awkward vent of your feelings to him in the library.

“I miss when you loved me”, is what you confess.

Vergil shouts selfish comments, says he prefers to be alone. Says you bother him too much. Says that maybe marriage was the wrong decision. He does not mean these things. But you have taken them to heart.

You start to cry, the whites of your eyes now bloodshot. Hiccups erupting from your lips. Sobs that beg him to take all his words back.

He doesn’t.

“Fine” you sniff, “I will let you be “.

A sickening feeling blooms in him when you leave, your bag tossed over your shoulder.

When you pass it is like no other.

He felt it burn through him. Regret. Guilt. Loneliness. He knew something had went wrong.

Your body had been found on the streets, bloodied, bones shattered, arms disfigured. You had tried to put up a fight, that was for sure. It made him sick. He felt numb. Practically in denial of your death. Of your murder.

He could have saved you…..he promised you. You have given him everything he wanted, and yet this…he couldn’t even prevent this from happening.

Your face, swollen and bruised. Eyes blackened and cheeks cut open. Your soft lips, never to kiss his again.

If only he hadn’t been selfish, you wouldn’t have went out that night. You could have been here, with him, embracing him. Telling him that you loved him for all eternity.

The wedding band was still firm on your finger, your blood thick over Vergil’s name engraved on the ring.

Vergil kisses you one last time before your body is sealed in it’s coffin, a wooden box that shall keep your remains concealed forever. Your lips are so cold now, lifeless and chapped. Lacking it’s warmth and tenderness that you usually carried.

A part of him regrets kissing you. Your frozen face and your icy touch will now haunt him for the rest of his life. Terrorize his dreams.

Just a couple of months ago you two had stood in the old Victorian chapel, the stained glass casting an array of colors over your gentle smile. The beginning.

The last image of you is an image of death. They are lowering you into the Earth, shovels tossing dirt over the wooden case. An end.

Dante has offered that Vergil should stay with him, get away from the home that he once shared with you. His brother figured it would be best, a solution to rid him of his sorrow. The elder refuses every time.

Your presence…your glow. It still is fresh, and alive in the walls of the home. He must stay. He must stay for you. Sometimes he swears he hears your voice in the halls, your sweet tone making him panic and get up, just to realize he is only imagining it. He is only imagining that you are not gone. That you are still here with him.

He still visits your grave, as often as he possibly can. In the meantime, he tends to the tree he has planted in your garden, a magnolia tree that is fresh and desperately trying to grow. He wished he could show you.

There had been one night where he had a nightmare, images of you screaming and crying his name, pleading for help as you died, crimson leaking from your lips as you sputter blood.

“Vergil! Help me!”.

He wakes in a cold sweat, so terrified that it genuinely shakes him. This vision had stayed clinging in his dreams ever since your death, never sparing him mercy.

On nights like this, he rushes to enter your art room, sitting amongst your wooden work chair, now too restless and shaken to attempt to sleep again. He knew if he tried, he would only be met with the image of your lifeless form again.

He sits there, your painting of him underneath the willow tree sitting proudly amongst your art desk. You had told him it was your most prized possession. Your best work. He thought so too.

He cries your name under the glum luminescence of the moon.

He decides this time, he will paint you. No matter how bad he does it, your beauty will always bleed through.

#vergil x you #vergil sparda x you #vergil x reader #dmc x reader #vergil sparda x reader #vergil angst #dmc5 x reader

[hcdragonwrites]

A Mountain of Sweets

(a @journey-to-the-au fic) Tea Trouble part 1

Ok! This is a part one of two- yes I did it again I wrote something that’s a biiiiit longer then I want to subject y’all to in one post- so I had to split it. ENJOY!

Today would be glorious.

Earth Reaching Willow had to make sure everything went perfect. She had woken early, disentangling herself from her cuddle buddy of Wukong, Pear and several new babies who had begged for a story and had fallen asleep on Willows arms and in her hair. She dressed simply and made her way to the kitchen to help get a head start.

Her sisters were coming to visit.

All six sisters.

Everything had to be perfect, it would go perfect. It would go amazingly well. Willow had already started upon the tea cakes and tarts, picking the best peach jams and stuffings. Willow selected the finest green tea brand. Willow pulled the tea set gifted to her from Guanyin on her Wedding day, a spectacular peace of simple white porcelain laced and decorated in blossoms. She grabbed the finest tray and collected the sweetest teacups. When the teacakes and tarts finished she settled herself into the work going through the cold storages and ice boxes for the best fruits and seeds to fry. A plethora of moon tea cakes, of coconut cakes, and bean cakes was slowly being created. Willow roasted pine nuts, she fried small breads and cut the cold stored fruit into harmonious shapes of lotus blossoms and stars.

All seven sisters were coming to visit Flower Fruit Mountain. Stress strung her tighter then a bow for two reasons. The first of course was to impress. Her sisters would finally see how beautiful the world is here, to see how the Earth was not something to turn their nose up at. It was a paradise that consistently changed, that surprised her with every hand painted dawn and new sketched night. No two days were the same, no two phases of the moon were similar. The world was cast in shades and colors and music that Willow hoped- that she prayed - her sisters would see.

The second reason for her stress was … all six of her sisters were coming to visit.

Summer Turning Flower, her second sister and her mothers daughter. Winter Frosted Grace, with her cold confidence and calculations. Autumn Leaves Falling, who could charm a raging storm with a smile. Wind Over Sea, the swiftest and most eager to please. Weaves The Clouds, who liked to prank and tease. And Little Weaver Girl, the sweetest and youngest of the sisters.

Seven sisters of Heaven and … Willow worried for her sweet family here on the Mountain. Back when the Heavens didn’t corral the daughters in so tightly, on a summer night, they had decided to visit the earth. They had snuck out and taken their fathers best heavenly steeds- both as protection and as a mode of transport- to take a night among the mortals. It was a jaunt and play at rebellion, one Willow and Flower had been in planning for years. They had escaped the court, laughing with the abandon of children. Down to earth the seven sisters upon seven steeds had come a galloping. They had gone to the closest river, the shiniest bend of liquid night, and had slipped from garments to nothing. They had swam with abandon, laughed and splashed. The joy of that night gave Willow a beat of heart sickness. She missed those days when the sisters had laughed and schemed together.

They had been so naive then. So carefree. A taste of that joy was just in her memory, a warm brush against her senses. Like a ghost of a feeling.

“Willow?”

She turned seeing a very sleepy and very tired Wukong blinking at her. His fur was mused. His face still carrying the lines of sleep as he yawned wide and rubbed at his eyes.

“I was wondering where you had gone.” He came walking forward into the kitchen reaching for her hand. Willow stepped forward and took it. Wukongs eyes widened at the counter behind her- the red practically swallowing the polished gold of his pupils. “It is so early still, My Willow Tree.”

Willow felt a bit of her face flame. Just a little, as the Monkey King stepped up to the counter and looked at her mornings work. Wukong tugged her hand.

“Tell me you haven’t been up all night making these.” His faced begged her to counter his assumption. How else could she have accomplished so much in so short a time?

“Only since the first chime of the bell.” Willow sheepishly tucked a stray hair behind her ear, looking to the floor, to the ceiling, everywhere but her sweet friends face.

“The first chime! Willow- that was six Chimes ago!” He admonished and her husband was suddenly larger- leaning into her face and taking away her ability to duck his looks. Drat Wukong. Her friend may be uncomfortable with direct eye contact but he would quickly forget about it when it came to things of this nature. He now used his magic to make it so she could not escape his scrutiny.

“That was the turning of the night Guards! I could have had the chefs start the preparations. You did not have to wear yourself out.” Wukong gently put a finger to her chin, tilting her head up. A thumb ran beneath her eye, shadowing the dark circles that had made nests below.

“… “ Willow was caught. She had nothing to say in her defence. She had just been so nervous- so nervous and wanting to impress the impossible expectations of her sisters. Wukongs eyes softened, the gold going warm , honey melting into warm embers.

“Oh Willow what has you so worried.” He held her face in his hands gently, not caging her in but holding her so she could not deny or run from it. A simple I am here that grounded her.

“I just want everything to be perfect.” Willow sighed. She held one of his hands with her own. Wukong twined his fingers with hers, rubbing the backs with the pad of his thumb. “I want them to love Earth and see how much I love it. How beautiful it is. This whole place- everyone here- I love it so Wukong. I just …”

“Princess,” He kissed her brow, the places beneath her eyes where those shadows nestled. His smile was the soft curve of the moon at night, all soft light and kindness. “Your sisters will love it because you love it. You have nothing to worry for.”

“You say that but…”

“Willow,” he tapped her nose, tucking and tugging her into his arms, “if you wear yourself out before they have even started their decent from Heaven, I will bring Beng in here to scold you for the lack of sleep.”

His breath tickled her ear as he threatened Willow. She gave a mock gasp, looking up from her place beneath his chin.

“Not Beng! He scolds with his face.” Willow scrunched her face in the best Beng impression she had, the one the medicine monkey wore when his patients clearly ignored his advice. Wukongs face broke into laughter, a delightful waterfall of vibration along her back. “He may never say a harsh word but his face speaks enough to make my ears turn red.”

“My point exactly.” Wukong said. He grew a bit larger, setting Willows feet on his own. He started to walk her back, puppeteering her away from the kitchen in the goofiest way. “Now come on…”

“But…” Willow looked at the rice cakes, the bountiful mess and harvest of her labour. Was it enough?

“No one will touch the cakes.” Wukong promised. “No one would think to today of all days to do that. All of the mountain is abuzz and they want today to go off without a hitch.”

“I just … “ want to impress them. Want to impress you. I want there to be harmony between the love of my family in Heaven and the love of my family On Earth. “I want you to be happy with them.” She said out-loud.

Willow didn’t get to see the way the monkeys eyes went from honey to butter at her words. He melted against her, draping her in fur and twining his tail around her waist.

“Oh my Willow Tree.” He said it so softly, eliciting Willow to look up. Just in time, for Wukong had her legs out from under her and had swung her around onto his side. He was carrying her almost like the mothers did to their babes, close but with one hand on the ground. Willow curled into him, seeing the tender admonishment in her friends eyes.

“Come. Back to bed with you. The littles are all upset their Grandmother left without morning kisses and Pear is particularly beside herself.” Before she could say more, Wukong was loping away and back to their room where a barrel of littles came climbing and begging for cuddles and kisses. Wukong worried not for the snacks Willow had made. He more or less worried about the the stores she had burned through in those six chimes.

For Willow, in all her worry, had made a mountain of tarts, a landslide of teacakes, a sea of fried breads and foodstuff, that spilled and took over not one but four of the longest counters in the kitchens.

As he looked down on her, still holding him as she cuddled and cooed to the little monkeys he thought, fondly and with humour, “What am I going to do with you and your habit of baking us under a mountain of sweets?”

It was only a short time later that Ma and Ba crept into the kitchen, tempted by the smells of sweets and baking.

“Just one won’t hurt.” Ba grumbled. He wouldn’t admit it to Willow- but her food had woken him from his tangle with Chestnut and their little Lychee.

“Of course.” Ma said, stepping up to the counters with her tail excitedly flagging. She was still in the dregs of her recent release from postpartum depression. Willow had gently, for weeks, left foodstuffs and sweets outside her and Bengs hut. A kindness and a gesture Ma was so thankful for. Between Pomelo and Mulberry, she was practically spent with energy. She had also smelled the sweets being made and … couldn’t help herself.

“Willow wouldn’t mind one missing…” or two. Or ten.

Neither of the Marshals however, noticed the ice blue eyes open from a perch just above them, a cracked fracture in the wall.

“If you touch a single one of Willows cookies for those Celestials,” the cold voice of Xinshu whipped out like an adder freezing the twins in place “I will personally see your pelts pulled and turned into mud rugs.”

Xinshu fell as silent as a snow cat from her perch. Her teeth were barred in a threat. “I won’t have you two making us look foolish because you ate all of the baked goods.”

Ma and Ba, caught and cowed, scuttled away from the white simian in all her fury. If they had lingered long enough to see, to peek back in, they would have seen Xinshu look at the sweets. Like at a peach tart. And slide it into one of the pockets in her belt

#hcwrites #writing stuff #hcfanfics #for journey to the au #FIRST PART DONE #HERE WE ARE A CUTE LITTLE PRECURSOR TO THE DRAMA ABOUT TO UNFOLD #jttw au #jttw tag #sun wukong #jttw sun wukong #earth reaching willow #Wukong being big fluffy man who likes to walk his wife on the tops of his feets ? yes #am I a sucker for cute actions and romantic things? yes #have I stres baked before? YES #I listened to Hoizers new album with this. but the one that I really liked is “All Things end’ #it’s that chorus man it’s like an anthem of the heart. #i love it #this is so fun to write pls #ENJOY IT ALL OF YOU #these monkeys have me in a choke hold but it ain’t bad #it’s so FUN TO WRITE FOR ALL THESE PEOPLE #It helps me also when I write my stuff because I am my OWN worse critic #like if it’s for me I am nitpicking everything and chewing it over #writing for others helps me not be over critical. #BUT ALSO WRITING CUTE LITTLE INTERACTIONS IF FUCKEN FUN PLS #HOW WUKONG COMES IN ALL SLEEPY FOR WILLOW #LIKE imagine home waking up and popping his head out of the cuddle nest and going ????? wife???? wife missing???? #He had to leave a double for the littles to snuggle on #WRITING XINSHU BECAUSE HER BEING SNEAKY OVER MA AND BAS SHENANIGANS #ALSO FRUIT TROOP IS COMING

[rere-the-writer]

hiring! Can I request a fic where it is Game Of thrones x the originals? Like Reader is Tywin's daughter from his second marriage and she was set to marry some abuse lord. But she meets Elijah when he and Oberyn are in Kingslanding for Joffrey's wedding. Reader and Elijah fall for one another so Tywin changes his mind and allows Elijah to marry reader instead. Oh can it be where Joffrey never died? So Tyrion is never arrested please and thank you.

I know I rarely do cross over fics but this request just got me. Also I had just started watching 'House of the Dragon' and rereading the books.

Warnings: Fluff, Protective Lannister men, Oberyn scheming, Elijah just being the softest, hints of smut

Pairing: Elijah M. x Velaryon!Lannister!Reader

A/N: I am well aware of how Tywin treats his children in the show but soft!Tywin is my shit. Oh maybe I could a series of this. This will be a two parter

A/N/N: also we support Rhaenyra x Alicent in this household and believe Otto ruined everything

283 Winter, Casterly Rock

Vaesa let out her last scream as she pushed, then the sounds of a baby's cry filled the halls of Casterly Rock. Tywin Lannister, not caring that a Maester and mid-wives tried stopping him from entering the room.

There Vaesa sat rocking you in her arms, you were healthy with soft bronze skin. And a head of sliver blonde curls with jade colored. A girl of Velaryon and Lannister blood, Vaesa knew just what your life was going to be. Her bloodline could be traced back to Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys Velaryon.

"I apologize, my husband...I gave you a girl." Vaesa tells Tywin as he moved closer taking you into his arms. You held most of house Velaryon features due to Vaesa's pure Velaryon blood.

"It is fine wife. She is perfect." Tywin says kissing your forehead when you yawned. Vaesa smiled seeing her husband soften holding you. Little did you know you were going to be the most protected girl in the Seven Kingdoms.

287 Summer, Casterly Rock

Vaesa held your hand walking down to the waters where a huge dragon lay, Rovas, the last known dragon and your mother his rider. Rovas moved his head hearing your mother softly call out to him and you, ever so much the adventurer, tried to run up to the lazy dragon.

"Go on my little lion." Vaesa says knowing Tywin was watching closely on top of the stone steps. Tywin was at first against you meeting Rovas but your mother reassured your father that the old dragon would be gentle.

You giggled feeling Rovas press his snout against your little body, he let out a purr when you patted his snout. Vaesa turned to her husband with a smirk on her face when she heard you call for them both.

"Mama! Papa! Look!" You squealed getting your parents attention, seeing you on top of Rovas's head. The dragon just lay there not caring there was a five year old climbing on him.

"I only turned my back for a second." Vaesa said when Tywin moved standing next to her. Both watched Lannister guards nervously moved towards the dragon to get you down.

"It seems she is more Velaryon than Lannister." Tywin joked making Vaesa laugh. Your parents watched you climb down off of Rovas who tilted his head making easier for you.

"Soon Rovas would be hers." Vaesa tells her husband when you came running up. You begged your father to pick you up and you three went in for lunch.

301 Summer, Kingslanding

You had grown into a beautiful young woman which your mother joked that it must be your Velaryon blood. You stood by Rovas looking out at the waters feeling the old dragon shift his head to nuzzle your side.

The war was over and you being 18, Tywin was looking for a Lord to wed you. Rovas purred feeling your stress and the dragon wanted nothing more than to comfort you. You didn't want to marry knowing your husband wouldn't allow you to keep Rovas.

"I knew you would be out here." Tyrion says walking down to join you seeing how your guard stayed up on the steps. Tyrion shook his head knowing both Jamie and Tywin would be angry that the guard didn't stay close to you.

"Father says I'll be married soon." You tell your older brother still looking out at the sea.

"You wish to not marry sister? You won't have to, your mother will birth our sibling soon." Tyrion says watching you sigh and lay on Rovas's snout.

"If is a boy, I won't have to but if it is a girl." You mumbled before squeaking when Rovas raised his head making you stand.

"Lady Y/N, the Lord Hand wishes to speak to you." A handmaid tells you making you frown and nodded following after her. Tyrion sighed and patted Rovas who huffed wanting to fly you out of Kingslanding.

---

The day of Joffrey's and Margaery's wedding was celebrated by all. Mean while you were stuck listening to your betrothed list your duties as his wife. Lord James Whitehill was suggested to your father by Cersei. While your brothers hated the Lord having done some digging.

"I hope you only birth me sons. Daughters will not be allowed also I don't want you to have your dragon." Lord Whitehill tells you well more like demanded.

"Exuse me, Lord Whitehill but I have others to greet." You tell the Lord leaving before you hit him. Vaesa was sitting Jamie and both was glaring at your betrothed.

"Princess." You brighten up hearing Oberyn and turned around smiling. You stopped see the Lord next to Oberyn, your heart skipped a beat.

"Prince Oberyn, I told you I am no Princess." You tell the Prince who just smirked at you putting an arm around you.

"Being the daughter of Velaryon Lady should make you one." Oberyn teased you noticing how you looked at the Lord.

"Who is your friend?" You asked Oberyn making the Prince smile.

"This is Lord Elijah Mikaelson, the Noble stag of the North. Lord Elijah, this is Lady Y/N." Oberyn says then moved away to leave you two to talk. Oberyn saw how Tywin watched you and Elijah right away.

"Lady Y/N, may I have this dance?" Elijah asked you noticing the flush that came on your face. You shyly nodded placing your smaller hand in Elijah's much larger hand.

"Who is that with our sister, Tyrion?" Jamie whispered to his younger brother not wanting Cersei to hear him.

"That would be the Lord Elijah of the North. If I remember right his family stayed out of the war." Tyrion says watching you giggle at Elijah's jokes as you both danced. Jamie was surprised before sitting next to Tyrion.

"What else do you know?" Jamie asked watching you and Elijah getting a smirk from his brother.

"They say the House of Mikaelson once rode with the House of Dragon. They are old blood and members of the family rarely leaves the North."

"So better than Lord Whitehill?" Jamie asked looking at your betrothed not liking the dark glare on his face. While Tywin sat rethinking your marriage proposal to Lord Whitehill.

"Very." Tyrion says noticing their sister's jealous glare.

"Shame you are betrothed Lady Y/N." Elijah says twirling you and you smiled up at the Lord.

"It is not set in stone my Lord. I just haven't gotten other offers." You tell Elijah getting a coy smile from him.

"Then may I add my proposal?" Elijah asked you kissing your hands making you flush nodding.

---

"He is so attentive of her. Agree sister?" Tyrion says joining Cersei with Jamie seeing Elijah tucking a rose behind your ear.

Kingslanding was gossiping how you were set to marry Lord Elijah. Tywin finding him a better match for you since a marriage between you and Elijah would benefit the Lannisters. Cersei was seething watching you walking with Elijah in the gardens.

"Yes, shame father ended her proposal with Lord Whitehill." Cersei tells her brothers eyes darken when you shyly kissed Elijah's cheek.

"Well good thing he did. I heard some unfavorable things about the Lord." Jamie says seeing you lead Elijah down to the beach.

Elijah was surprised that you wanted him to meet your dragon. He still had to thank Oberyn for introducing you both and also talking the Lord up to the Lord Hand. Rovas raised his head seeing you.

"Rovas! Meet my beloved!" You tell the dragon as Elijah flet his heart burst at your words. You gently pulled Elijah closer and the dragon stared at the Lord then lay his head back down.

"He is quite the dragon." Elijah says placing a hand on Rovas while dragon watched you lean back against Elijah's chest.

"He trusts you. Rovas didn't allow Lord Whitehill near me when I had them meet." You tell Elijah smiling knowing Rovas was very protective of you.

"I should make sure he all he needs up North." Elijah tells you kissing your hand eyes twinkling seeing how you brighten.

---

Vaesa stood next to her husband getting teary eyed as Elijah kissed you making you his wife. Vaesa was happy you were marrying an honorable man unlike Lord Whitehill.

Of course the Lord tried to say he took your maidenhead after a drunken night. Tywin nearly ran a sword though Lord Whitehill for the lie if Jamie and Tyrion hadn't stopped their father.

The feast was lovely and you were enjoying the attention Elijah was giving you that was until Joffrey ruined it. The boy King came walking up to your table with Lord Whitehill.

"Time for the bedding ceremony! Now dear Lady aunt, I hope y........" Joffrey was cut off when Elijah placed his sword on the table eyes dark.

"Touch my wife and men will lose their hands." Elijah said coldly and Tywin stood up.

"Maybe there is to be no bedding ceremony. We should allow the new couple to retire." Tywin says as you took Elijah's hand taking him to your wedding chambers.

---

You woke feeling arms tighten around your waist and smiled remembering what happen. You had consummated your marriage to your new husband. Elijah hummed enjoying the feeling you kiss his face.

"Good morning my beloved wife." Elijah sounded sleepy and his voice sounding husky. Elijah pressed more kisses on your bare skin and touching what ever he could reach.

Morning beloved." You say rolling over kissing Elijah. You giggled when Elijah rolled you both over trapping you under him. Elijah nuzzle your neck pressing closer to you.

"Shall revist last night?" Elijah teased you making you flush wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Yes...my Lord husband." You said shyly pulling Elijah closer as you both indeed revist last night.

#rere's stories #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson fluff #elijah x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine

[elizabethsaige]

i can’t stop with the stobin headcanons so here’s more :)

-sharing clothing obviously but also fighting like sisters when they see the other with one of their clothing items on (they don’t really care)

-dustin so badly wants to officiate their lavender wedding that he rewrites the entire speech to fit them and presents it to them like he would a project. he gets poster board and everything, making it all fancy and convincing. in the end after his performance and some serious consideration, they both say no and he pouts but they promise he can be the flower girl if he really wants to

-joyce and hopper have adopted both robin and steve as their own children. el is so excited to have two more siblings, especially a sister to do girly things with, but since robin isn’t super girly, steve steps in and does all of that fun stuff with el, who loves every minute of it. robin and will bond through art and sexuality and expression and stuff like that, but robin also teaches will a little bit of spanish (to impress mike but he doesn’t tell her that part until later)

-in fact, once robin starts hanging with will more, she comes out to him. he is really happy to have her as a sister so he doesn’t feel so alone with what he’s going through. he doesn’t outright come out to her at first, but she knows (because of course she does) and she helps him come to terms with himself. and at the end of the day, they both help each other out because seeing will become more comfortable in himself and with his sexuality actually heals baby robin who spent all of middle and high school hating who she was and wishing she could just be “normal”

-sometimes steve and robin will make coordinating outfits with similar color schemes and whatnot

-both learn sign language because robin is scared that one day steve may lose some or all of his hearing due to all of the fights and injuries and she wants to make sure that they still have a way of communicating instead of lip reading. steve cries when he finds out why she’s making them do it, out of fear but mostly out of love for his best friend

-they most definitely have kissed “just to see how it is” and it left robin running to the sink to wash her mouth out with soap because “it really was that bad”

-steve “everyone’s gonna think we’re dating” and robin “hmm tragic. let them”

-when steve is sitting on the couch, robin will come and sit on him and sprawl her whole body across his lap. they both say it’s comfy

-one summer, they decide to do a cross-country roadtrip ending in LA and max BEGS them to take her with them. when they don’t, she doesn’t talk to either of them the following days leading up to it, the whole summer, and 2 weeks into the new school year. she finally breaks when she needs to ask steve for a ride somewhere

-robin loves fall and steve loves spring, both of them hate summer and are indifferent to winter

-the first time they see each other naked was after Starcourt when steve made robin come back to his house because her parents were out of town. she tried to refuse but he looked at her so gently and pleaded so that he she wouldn’t have to be alone. once they were back at his place, he made robin take a shower first but once she got in, it was too scary and overwhelming because she couldn’t see steve. “could you just come in here with me?” steve took a minute to carefully take his clothes off without it hurting too much and climbed in. the second he was in, they hugged for what seemed like a very long time as they cried and cried, not daring to let go in fear of the other getting taken away, before helping each other wash all of the blood, sweat, and dirt off of their bodies. that night they did not sleep but the comfort of knowing the other was alright was enough

#Steve and robin #robin buckley #steve harrington #steveandrobin #headcanons #ur honor i love them #platonic with a capital p #stranger things #stranger things headcanons #st headcanons

[shaadiwish]

Wedding color schemes change with every season and this time around. With the new trends in wedding decor, we are sure you want to amp up your wedding in the best way possible.

#All Season Wedding Color Palette #All Season Wedding Color Schemes #Color Schemes For Summer Wedding #Color Schemes For Summer Weddings #Color Schemes For Weddings #Colors For Summer Weddings #Decor #Refreshing Colors Schemes #Refreshing Summer Wedding Colors #Summer Wedding 2024 #summer wedding colors #summer wedding decor #wedding color #Wedding Color Combos #Wedding Color Palette #Wedding Color Palettes #Wedding Color Schemes #Wedding Color Schemes For All Season #Wedding Colors #Wedding Decor #Wedding Decor 2024 #wedding trends #Wedding Trends 2024 #shaadiwish

[unrequitedloveletter]

paper rings- weddings!! give me a character. a rough word count (10k is the most I’m willing to write, but if you want the fic to be a longer one, specifics are heavily recommended) and where you would want to get married if you were to get married! You can also tell me if you want it to be next level angst or to have the fluff scale turned up to eleven. Provide whatever specifics you want, and along with the fic, you’ll get a moodboard! You can mention if you want the moodboard to replace whatever gif I use as a fic header, but if you want it at the bottom of the fic and for me to include the gif anyway, just let me know!

okayyyy nikolai lantsov andd 1-2k? i've always dreamed of having a forest fairytale type wedding. like the fairy lights, and the green and borwn color schemes. and very intimate, only closeee friends and family (which is still a lot of family on my side but shhhh) fluff scale turned up to 11 plsss! the moodboard, i'm fine either way whatever is easiest<3

Our Forever/Our Eternity- Nikolai Lantsov x fem! reader

Okay, hi! I am so sorry that this coming out so late--I’d started second semester when I went to look at my inbox and having to do assignments on the daily is taking me closer and closer to academic burn out one step at a time. This is coming out on valentines though, so yay! I hope you like this one. The moodboard also came out in the form of a collage, which again, I hope is cool! I made it while tired out of my mind last night and a collage is what my tiredbrain was able to manage at that point lol.

fic type- fluff. 

Warnings- mentions of the consumption of alcohol (wine and champagne, and vodka/kvas) 

You and Nikolai had been dating since you were sixteen, having met by pure happenstance whilst you both worked in the First Army. You were at his side as his partner when he’d met Alina, fought with him as his partner and his confidante in the Ravkan Civil war. 

When he’d proposed at the age of twenty-three, just at the beginning of his kingship, you were overjoyed, and so, it seemed, was he. 

The next year and a half were spent with wedding preparations at the forefront of nearly everyones focuses, though especially Genyas, yours, and Nikolais. 

A fairytale esque wedding was the theme you’d agreed upon, and it was just to your luck that a decent clearing with a couple of large trees was amongst the Little Palaces acreage. 

Genya had said that it was to be the perfect spot for a wedding, and a year and a half later, as you listened to Alina and Zoyas conversation and Genya tailored a bit of powder onto your eyes to give them a pop of color, you had to agree. 

You’d decorated it with a few good tables, chairs painted a deep brown the color of wood, the tablecloths a darker version of leafy green. The centerpieces had been your favorite flowers, encased in small glass display containers that would’ve been used for something like a cupcake display in a bakery, and the tree under which you were going to get married had been laid with lights, making it look like the branches were dripping in stars. 

You’d done your wedding a bit differently to the societal expectations placed onto Nikolais shoulders. It wasn’t public, it wasn’t to occur in the Little Palace and there were no journalists, no reporters or anyone who’s only purpose of attending would be to get the scoop on the happenings of that day. 

You’d only invited the people who’d mattered to you both, those whom you considered family. Tolya, Mal and David were Nikolais groomsmen. Genya, Tamar, Nadia, Alina and Zoya were your bridesmaids. 

Alina and Mal had come along, though Alina had been wearing a wig so that nobody looked at her and immediately knew that she’d been the sun saint, the one who’d been martyred three years before. 

Alina laughed as a breeze picked up and ruined some of the work that Genya had done with your hair, meeting your gaze with a grin. 

“Early summer is a wonderful time of year, isn’t it?” You asked, laugh befalling your lips as Genya gave an exasperated sigh. “There’s a breeze, yeah, but at least it’s warm.”

“Nikolai is just going to faint when he sees you,” Nadia said with a grin. “Oh, the king will faint indeed.”

“Tolya will have to catch him,” Tamar agreed, laugh coming up as she took a sip of her champagne. “It’ll be quite the glorious thing, and no reporters here to tell the tale means that our beloved king and his precious ego will be saved from embarrassment.” 

“He’ll do more than faint,” Zoya said. “He’s never cried a day in his life, I’m sure, but he will. He’ll be crying tears of joy. Men are astonished by beauty, and you look ravishing, so it’s practically par for the course.” 

You took a sip of your champagne as Genya announced that she was done with your hair, peeking out from behind the tree that you’d stood behind, one far enough away from guests and Nikolai to avoid being heard or seen.  

“The king has descended down the aisle,” she said. “Oh, he is going to lose it. I’m so excited!” 

You finished off your champagne as Genya and David walked down the aisle, followed by Zoya with Tolya, Alina and Mal, Tamar and Nadia together. 

You watched, head ducked out from the spot where you stood, as David whispered something to Nikolai and his eyes promptly closed, anticipatory grin spreading across his face. You scoffed, grin coming to yours as well. 

Of course David had listened to Genyas suggestion that he ask Nikolai to close his eyes so as to not see you until you’d walked down the aisle. Photographers were around, and she probably thought it would make for an interesting set of photos. David, as her husband, would’ve agreed, as would you have, as you knew she was probably right. 

Your father walked you down the aisle, and when you reached out, resting either of your arms on Nikolais shoulders and allowing your hands to entwine themselves behind his neck, his eyes opened.

He looked shocked in one moment, mesmerized in the next.

“You look--” Nikolai began, cutting himself off. He laughed after a moment. “It seems I am unable to find the words. You look indescribably beautiful.” 

You grinned. “You clean up nicely, Mr. Lantsov.”

“The same can be said of you, soon to be Mrs.” 

You grinned, rolled your eyes, as the officiant began.

“We are gathered here today for the union of his majesty the king, Nikolai Lantsov, and her majesty the Queen, Y/N L/N,” you’d gotten that part sorted in the weeks prior. You’d been declared queen before the wedding at a small coronation that the public was only made aware of in the days after it’d occurred, so as to pretty much just get the process out of the way. 

“It is my belief that the couple has written their own vows?” You both glanced at the officiant, giving him a slight nod. “Well then, King Nikolai, I’ll allow you to read yours first.” 

Nikolai shot you a smirk, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him lovingly. He’d always been the flirtatious type, and you considered it luck that those flirts had always seemed to be tossed in your direction. 

Nikolai wasn’t just a flirt, though. He was a caring, compassionate, smart and wonderful guy. He was someone you’d met while serving your time in the First Army, someone who you’d seen act in the bravest manner and only in the interest of saving the lives of those around him. He’d managed to sweep you off your feet somewhere in all of the noise, and when he became Sturmhond, you joined him once you’d convinced your commander to release you on honorable discharge so that you could. 

As you stood in front of him, arms around his shoulders, you found that you didn’t regret it. Not a minute. 

“I have loved you since we worked in the infantry department together,” Nikolai said. “I fell in love with you whilst we were in the ranks of the First Army, and, eight years after I joined up, I can say that I have not felt regret over it for a moment. I love you more than words can express, really, and I’m looking forward to proving it to you with my actions. I cannot wait to get to wake up next to you everyday for the rest of my life.”

He paused, closing his eyes for a moment, and you realized that Zoya may have been right. Nikolai may actually have started crying, or have gotten closer to it. 

“Forever has always felt like such a long time,” Nikolai continued. “It still does, usually, but it’s time that I get to spend with you at my side, so I can’t wait for our forever to start.” 

The officiant grinned. “Y/N, you may read your vows in response.” 

“I love you,” you began. “I used to think that I would never get so lucky as I have. I was sent into the First Army, and as most do, I figured I was doomed. I’m delighted that I wasn’t, and though the First Army, the mandatory service, is not something that I look back on fondly, I’m glad I met you from it. I’m glad that I’ve spent almost a decade at your side, and I’m looking forward to all the decades to come.”

“I’m looking forward to coffee on Sundays, to watching the sun go down and drinking kvas as we talk about how lucky we both feel, and I am really excited that I get to be married to you for our eternity. I have loved you as long as I have known you, and I am looking forward to getting to spend the rest of my days loving you even still.” 

The rings were brought out, and you noticed a tear slip down Nikolais cheek as he slipped the ring onto your finger. You slipped his ring onto his, wiped the tear away and gave him a grin as you registered that you were close to crying as well. 

It was your wedding, though. One of the happiest days of your life. People would forgive you if you cried a bit. 

“Nikolai Lantsov, do you promise to love Y/N L/N for the rest of your days, in sickness and in health, in rich and in poor?”

“I do,” Nikolai looked at you, and you looked at him, and all that either of you noticed in that moment was the sheer love in the other persons gaze.

“Y/N L/N, do you promise to love Nikolai Lantsov for the rest of your days, in sickness and in health, in rich and in poor?” 

“I do.” 

“Well then, the bride and groom may kiss to seal this union,” the officiant said.

And so, you did, a tear slipping down your cheek as Nikolais lips were on yours and you were officially his wife, he was officially your husband. You were so happy, it was more than words could ever accurately describe.

Nikolai pulled away, grabbed your hand and interlaced your fingers, and just like that, the party had started, the violins picking up with an old Ravkan dancing tune. 

You spent the night dancing, laughing, drinking and enjoying the night for all that it was. You were married to the love of your life, and you were sure you would be so happy as you’d been that day for the rest of the days in which you graced the earth. 

When all the guests had left, most of them retiring into their rooms after midnight, when all of the celebrations had been had, the good wine and kvas drank, the dancing done, you were still out there.

It was a group of people, actually. It’d been you, Nikolai, Genya, David, Tolya, Tamar, Nadia, Zoya, Alina and Mal. The violinist was still playing because they’d not yet retired to their own room. They were playing a slow song, and like it was habitual, you all paired off and danced.

Nikolai held you close, arms around your waist where yours were resting on either of his shoulders. You were dancing under the tree where you’d gotten married, and the lights were still on. As you registered the flit of a camera, knowing that the photographers had long gone home, you scoffed.

“Need something for the photo album, Tolya?”

“A few somethings,” he said. “These’ll look good framed, and Zoya most certainly agrees with me.”

“She does,” Zoya piped up. “As does Genya, who anticipated this happening and thought that the disposable was a good idea. You’re welcome, lovebirds.” 

You and Nikolai laughed. “Thank you, guys.”

“We’re glad that you finally tied the knot, Nik,” Tamar said. “Seriously. Tolya and Nadia were beginning to debate placing bets.”

“Who would’ve won?”

“Me,” Tolya said. “A good man does not wait for the perfect time, in accordance to my sonnets. He either creates it or finds it in a day that is seemingly mundane.”

You scoffed. “It was not mundane, Yul-Bataar. He proposed to me when the sun was setting. We were by the lakes.” 

“Mundane enough,” Nikolai said. “And perfect enough, after having tried to find the right time for three years.”

“You took my point, you took my compliment, and you unraveled it,” Tolya said, scoffing. “You’re a drunken buffoon.”

“I’m not drunk,” Nikolai said. “I’ve been too busy dancing with my wife to bother with it.”

“Ah, so you’re just a buffoon, then?” Genya asked. ���Makes sense.” 

Nikolai scoffed, meeting your gaze. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” you said. “It’s getting late, and cold. Let’s head back inside.”

“Early start tomorrow,” David said.

“I will have Tamar cut my tongue out with one of her beloved axes before I rise at any time within the three hours after sunrise tomorrow morning,” Nikolai said as the group began the walk back. You heard the violin music stop, the violinist packing up as you left. 

You grinned as you took Nikolais hand and interlaced your fingers. 

You’d married the love of your life. You were so happy in what was just the start of your forever with him, and he was so happy in the start of his eternity with you. 

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x fem! reader

[mayhem-neverending]

Would You? Part II

Word Count:1371

Warnings: Nothing.

If he was being honest with himself, Neji was surprised when you and your father arrived at his family home only three hours after his proposal. He had, of course, hoped that you would accept, but he was curious how you decided so quickly. 

He had even blushed when your father made the both of you stand next to each other and cried, “Oh, yes! You will make beautiful babes together!”

That was two weeks ago. The date of your wedding was set for July 10, which was only seventeen days away. Neji had the sneaking suspicion for the rush was so that neither of you had time to change your mind. He didn’t mind, though. It wasn’t like he had ever had any romantic prospects besides you, so there was no one he had to say goodbye to. 

In fact, he had been warming greatly to the idea of sharing his life with you. At first, it was just a formality, but the more he thought about it, the more he desired not just sharing a life with you, but you. 

The two of you had been spending more time together over the past few weeks in preparation of the wedding. It was funny, because it felt like you two were an actual couple together when you were planning. Bickering over color schemes, cake flavors, whether you would serve a full meal of just hor d’oeuvres had become entertaining to him. Neither of you were quite fully serious; you would stick your tongue out at him and he would stifle his chuckle. 

He often thought to himself that he was grateful he had asked you, and even more grateful that you had accepted. It would be strange and unpleasant doing preparations with a stranger. 

He began imagining you with him as he went about his mundane activities throughout the day. What would you look like when you first woke up? Would your roll over and smile at him? Would you be out of bed before him, starting breakfast? When he went to the market, he wondered what you would buy. What changes would happen to his diet with you being the cook? Would you lounge in the garden, munching on fruit, or would you be strict like he was and not snack at all?

These questions never really bothered him, he knew that you two would work out a routine and things would be pleasant, just as the last two weeks had been. There was only one thing he was truly concerned about.  And that was that he had never.. performed. He had masturbated, sure, but he had never physically been with anyone. He had never actually kissed anyone, either, unless you counted the one time Kiba was dared to kiss him and he was smacked in the mouth with wet lips. 

He didn’t count it, if anyone was wondering. 

The idea of his first kiss being in front of your family and his embarrassed him. He knew that you had kissed before. You had briefly dated Shikamaru last summer, and he had seen the two of you making out at a party he had attended with Lee. His only consolation was that you would be able to guide him, and that you were kind enough not to make fun of him if he mucked it up.

He didn’t want his first time to feel forced, either. He knew that he was expected to consummate his marriage, but he really wasn’t comfortable with that idea, even if he found you more attractive every day. 

A knock at the drawing room door interrupted his thoughts. He took a deep breath. “Come in,” 

You slowly opened the door, slipping into the room and leaving the door cracked for decency. You smiled at him and sat on a mat next to him. 

“How are you feeling, Neji?” You asked, noticing the slight furrow of his brow. 

“I’m fine, just thinking about the wedding. How are you?” A small smile curled the corner of his lips. 

“I’m pretty good. I just tried picked my wedding kimono,” Your face broke out in a bright smile. 

“You look excited about that,” Neji stated. You gently touched his wrist. Something that you had been doing a lot lately. 

Neji felt butterflies flutter in his stomach. “I am. It’s beautiful.”

Neji nodded, trying to formulate a good response. He had none, so he moved on. He eyed you, wondering if it was okay to ask you about the consummation part of your marriage. He didn’t want to make you feel unattractive, but he was also nervous about stating his reasons. 

His pretty purple eyes carried an intensity and you struggled not to move away from their weight. You nervously brushed imaginary dust off of your clothes, waiting for him to say something.

He noticed this, and sighed. It was better said than unsaid, he decided. “Y/n,”

Your eyes shot up to his. “Yes?”

“I have a question, but I am struggling to ask you in an appropriate manner.”

You appreciated his straightforwardness, but it made you a bit uneasy every time he spoke to you in that way. 

“Go ahead then, just spit it out,”

He inhaled. “Do we need to consummate our marriage? That night, I mean.” 

You laughed in relief. Of course he would ask that. You were pretty sure he had never slept with anyone before, so it would make sense he would be nervous about it. You felt a twinge of disappointment, though. After marrying him occupying your mind since you had accepted, you had definitely thought about what it would be like to get down and dirty with him, and you would be lying if you weren’t riled by the idea.

“No, Neji. Of course not.” You replied, still smiling. 

You watched the air leave his chest as he let out a relieved sigh. You decided to tease him. “Are you going to ask if we have to kiss at the wedding, too?” 

You poked your tongue out at him, but his eyes went wide. Your brows furrowed at his reaction. Did he not want to kiss you, either?

“Well, I, no, of course we will kiss at the wedding,” He said uncomfortably. 

You were struck with a sudden thought as he shifted on his mat. “Neji.. Have you ever kissed anyone?” 

He averted his eyes, his cheeks going red. He mumbled something incoherently and you realized you had hit the mark. 

“You haven’t,” He shook his head, eyes still not meeting yours.

You leaned forward onto your knees, gently taking his chin and turning him to look at you. You were less than a foot from his face, and as he looked at you, his blush spread down his neck and across his ears. 

“Y/n, what are you doing?” He stuttered. His wide eyes searched yours, and you gave him an easy smile, leaning forward. 

“Would it be okay if we shared our first kiss here, instead of in front of everyone?” 

Neji didn’t react for a moment, didn’t seem to breathe. He nodded almost imperceptibly, and you leaned in to meet his lips. It was gentle, just barely a brush. 

Neji’s heart was racing and he was having a hard time thinking clearly. You pulled away a few inches and he met your eyes with wonder. 

“You have to kiss back, you know,” You said softly. You leaned forward again and he obliged, pressing his lips against yours in a firmer kiss. His eyes fluttered closed and he breathed in your scent. You moved your lips against his and he followed, realizing that he enjoyed the feeling. You kissed only a few moments, the wet sounds filling the otherwise silent room.

When you pulled back again, you sat fully. A blush splattered your cheeks and  he suddenly felt immensely infatuated. A feeling of completeness washed over him as he felt as though a piece of a puzzle connected inside of him. When you made eye contact with him again, he felt like a starving man.

“Well, I think I should go,” You stood, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

Neji said nothing as you left, just stared at your retreating form. 

#neji hyuuga x reader #neji hyuga #hyuuga clan #naruto #x reader

[foundtherightwords]

The Simple Thought of You - Chapter 1

Pairing: Billy Knight x OFC (Esme from "The Quiet Chaos")

Summary: Billy and Esme have been dating for nearly two years, and naturally, their thoughts turn to the next step in their relationship. But when it turns out that their future plans may not align, can they reconcile their differences and stay together?

A/N: I've been thinking about a sequel/epilogue for Billy and Esme's story for a while, but it didn't take shape until I happened across an article about the scouring of the White Horse of Uffington, so here it is. It's short compared to "The Quiet Chaos", but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: angst, discussion of children and being childfree, mentions of mental health issues, some smut (non-explicit)

Chapter word count: 3.9k

Chapter 1

Everyone agreed that the weather was perfect for a wedding. The sky was the clearest, brightest shade of cerulean, the sun was warm and gentle, some of the cool spring air still lingering about, slowing down the march of the heavy summer heat, and the lawn where the ceremony was to take place shone a brilliant emerald green.

Esme, however, paid little attention to the gorgeous weather except to feel relieved that the rain, which had been plaguing them for a week, had decided to stop. She was relieved, too, that the cake had been delivered in time, and that her youngest sister, Tiffany, had been convinced not to dye her whole head of hair rainbow-colored for the occasion. Tiff had settled for the hyacinth blue that was part of the wedding's color scheme instead.

Clutching her bouquet of grape hyacinths that matched her bridesmaid dress, Esme fought the urge to run into the kitchen one last time to make sure everything was OK. Across the aisle, Billy caught her eyes and gave her a reassuring smile as if to say "Relax". He must have noticed how nervous she was. He always did. Esme smiled back and let out a breath. Yes, relax. Billy's smile never failed to have a calming effect on her. She stole another glance at him, and her heart soared with a familiar sense of pride and affection. He looked nice today, with his hair brushed back from his forehead in soft waves, his beard trimmed, and in a new brown suit that matched his eyes, though he still forwent a tie, as usual.

A crash from the kitchen made Esme jump, and she closed her eyes briefly. What possessed Sybil and her fiancée Roisin to have the wedding at their parents' house, Esme would never know. Their flighty, artistic parents may be able to host boisterous Bohemian parties for their friends, but they couldn't handle anything more structured than an afternoon tea, and with Roisin's family coming in from Ireland, that would not do. So it had fallen to Esme, as the maid of honor, to make sure everything was perfect for her sister's big day.

When I do get married, it'll be at a registry office, Esme thought resolutely. Short, sweet, and simple, with none of this faffing about. Then she looked at Billy again and blushed. Thankfully, he was bending over to play with their dog Angua, and didn't see her.

They had been together for nearly two years, two years filled with love and joy, but also heartache and uncertainty. In the first six months, Billy's struggle with his mental health and the return of his no-good older brother, Jimmy, had nearly derailed them. They were parted for several months while Billy recovered in the hospital, agonizing months for Esme, though she'd visited him every day. But once he left the hospital, they moved in together, and had been inseparable since.

With so much on their minds, they had never discussed marriage in those two years. Billy's condition meant that Esme had to learn to take one day at a time, be happy with what they had in the present, and never look too far ahead. It was difficult for someone who used to plan her day down to the hour, but she'd managed it, for the most part, for him. Still, she would be lying if she said she hadn't thought about marriage at all. She'd almost gotten married once, right before she met Billy, and in the fallout of that, she no longer cared about weddings, or even marriage for that matter. After meeting Billy, though, she'd started thinking about marriage again. Not because she had any particular hankering for a big wedding, but because she felt marriage would give both of them some much-needed stability in their lives.

What about Billy, though? She didn't know how he felt about marriage. He had progressed in leaps and bounds since a year ago—the fact that he was here, at this wedding, amongst all these virtual strangers, was a testament to that—and had been holding down a nice, steady job at a woodworking studio, making furniture and doing some woodcarving on the side. Anyone looking at him now would see a healthy, happy young man.

Only Esme knew how Billy's past still loomed over them, how its shadow haunted his looks, how some nights it sent him into her arms, trembling with fears that were very much real but could not be put into words. Marriage is a big step. She knew how difficult it was for him to form connections, to trust, and didn't want to push him into anything he wasn't comfortable with. She'd made that mistake early in their relationship; never again.

Stop stressing about it, she sternly warned herself. One day at a time. If and when it felt right to get married, they would talk about it.

And then music started, the two brides came down the aisle together on the arms of their fathers, and Esme pushed all thoughts of her potential wedding out of her head, to focus on her sister's actual one.

The ceremony went off without a hitch, though Esme couldn't quite relax until all the intricate rituals of the reception—all the speeches and the cutting of the cake—were done. Nobody told an embarrassing story in their speech, nobody tried to smash anybody's face into the cake, and nobody tried to request the DJ to play "Another One Bites the Dust". She counted that as a successful wedding.

She had just barely sat down with Billy and Angua at their table when Sybil and Roisin came over. Both gave Esme rib-crushing hugs. "Thank you so much, sis, for helping us with all this," Sybil said.

"Yeah, it was perfect," agreed Roisin. "You've got a superstar here," she added to Billy, and he responded with a smile as if to say I know.

Before Esme could hide her blush, a little girl, about six or seven, holding the hand of a little boy, about three or four, came running up to them with a bashful look. Roisin's niece and nephew, Esme remembered, her older brother's kids.

"What is it, Daffy, darling?" Roisin asked, turning to them. The little girl leaned over and whispered something into her aunt's ear. Roisin turned back to Esme and Billy, smiling. "Daphne and Jamie are wondering if they could play with your pup," she said.

"Of course!" Esme said. "Angua is very friendly. Let's take her over there so she can run around and don't bother the people dancing, OK?" She half-rose from her seat and motioned to the kids, but Billy gently pushed her back down.

"I'll go with them," he said. "You sit and rest."

Nodding gratefully at him, she watched as Billy led Angua and the kids to a corner of the garden, where he started throwing a ball for the dog to catch, making the kids shriek with delight. Esme smiled to herself. For all his shyness, Billy always had a way with animals and kids, a natural, almost childlike openness that made them feel at ease around him.

"So, when are you two going to get married?" Roisin's question pulled her back to reality. Esme looked over. Roisin and Sybil were smiling at her like two cats that got the cream.

"We're not," Esme said automatically, then remembered to add, "Yet."

"What are you waiting for?" Sybil said. "He worships you, and you adore him. It's sickening to watch, really." Esme gave her sister a playful slap on the shoulder, like she used to when they were little, and Sybil grinned. "And he'll be a great dad."

Esme's embarrassed laugh died halfway to her lips. Suddenly the sky lost its brilliance and the laughter and all the joyful sounds of the wedding faded. A strange coldness spread across her chest. She realized there was something else she and Billy had never discussed, something much more fundamental and perhaps even more important than marriage—the question of having kids.

In all her previous relationships, regardless of how serious they were, Esme had always been careful to bring up the discussion about kids early on. With Billy, between her anxiety about his condition and the drama surrounding Jimmy's return, it had completely slipped her mind.

No, that wasn't quite true. It had occurred to her once or twice to ask him about it, but like the question of marriage, Esme didn't want to make it seem like she was rushing Billy or pressuring him, so she just shrugged it off. Besides, he had never expressed an interest in having kids. She had always assumed that he didn't want them. But now, watching him play with Daphne and little Jamie, she was no longer so sure. And it frightened her. It frightened her terribly.

Because she didn't want kids. She had spent most of her childhood taking care of her siblings while their parents were busy with their latest creative projects, and it had soured the whole idea for her. Oh, sure, she liked kids. Her friend Priya had three and Esme could always be counted on to babysit them, but it was always a relief to be able to hand them back at the end of the day.

Looking at Sybil's teasing smile now, Esme realized her younger sister had no idea about any of this, despite the two of them being the closest in the family. Esme had never told any of her siblings that she didn't want kids. She didn't want them to think that she resented them.

Flustered, she muttered something about making sure Billy didn't let Angua run into Mum's delphinium, and got up. By the time she reached Billy, Angua had tired herself out and was laying on her belly, panting, and the kids had wandered off. "Fancy a dance?" she asked, and Billy looked up at her with a smile. At the sight of that smile, Esme breathed a little more easily.

They didn't move to the dance floor. They remained at the corner of the garden, amongst the delphinium and hollyhocks, and Billy held her while they swayed slowly to the music.

"You OK?" he asked.

"I'm fine, just tired."

"Here." He pulled her a little closer, and she put her head on his shoulder with a comforted sigh.

"How about you?" she asked. "This isn't too much for you, is it?"

"No, no. I'm all right as long as you're here with me."

Standing there in his arms, with the music barely audible, only serving as a backing track to the peaceful chorus of a summer garden, of birds and insects, Esme suddenly felt rather silly about all her worries. She knew Billy, and he knew her. Perhaps she was getting worked up over nothing after all.

But what Billy said next shattered that illusion. "Besides, I don't mind people so much now," he said. "Actually, I've always wanted a big family."

Her head snapped up. "Have you really?"

"Well, you know how it was, when I was a kid..." Billy's voice trailed off uncomfortably.

Yes, she knew. Billy's mum died when he was two. His dad was alcoholic and violent. His brother, Jimmy, older by ten years, was cut from the same cloth. The Chiswells, who employed Billy's dad and on whose estate they lived, were dysfunctional in their own way and had been partly responsible for the worst memory of Billy's childhood, perhaps even of his life. Yes, with such a childhood, Esme could understand why Billy would want a big family, something to give him the sense of kinship and belonging that had been sorely lacking in his life.

And with that understanding came a horrible, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Billy must have noticed how she'd gone quiet and stiff, because he leaned down, brushing his lips over her hair. "Esme?"

"So does that mean you want kids?" she blurted out.

He went quiet as well, contemplating the question. A part of her was dying to look at him, to gauge his reaction, but another part was terrified of what she may find there. On the grass next to them, Angua turned over with a sleepy whine.

Then Esme felt Billy shrug. "I don't mind them," he said.

The sinking feeling became an abyss, and Esme fell into it, falling without anything to hold on to, without knowing where the abyss would end. The music and the chorus of birds and insects stopped. Billy was saying something to her, but she didn't hear him. All she heard was that he wanted a family, and she couldn't—no, even worse, wouldn't give it to him.

She couldn't deal with this right now. Her head was crowded with nasty thoughts of not good enough and he deserves better. All the fears from her last breakup came flooding back. Dropping Billy's hands, she staggered into the house, mumbling some lame excuse about checking on the caterers and ignoring his confused look.

He wanted kids. How could she have been so stupid, so thoughtless? Now she had wasted two years of their lives, all because she neglected to have a conversation.

But if you knew earlier, she asked herself, would you still be able to give him up?

No! her heart, her foolish, cowardly heart, cried out.

That's just selfish.

Once before, when Billy checked himself into the hospital, he'd wanted to give their relationship a break, saying it wouldn't be fair to her. Was she going to have to do the same for him now?

She took refuge in her old bedroom. Being the eldest, she'd had the privilege of having her own room, though after she moved out, her mum had turned it into her study and few traces of Esme's childhood remained. Not that there was much to remain in the first place. Esme had always preferred a nice, clean room, not a book out of place, not a wrinkle on the bed sheet, and she'd taken everything with her when she moved. Now, sitting down in a sagging armchair by her mum's desk, Esme was surprised to discover Mum had kept all the awards and trophies she'd won in school, including a sad participation trophy for lacrosse in year six—Esme had hated playing; she couldn't imagine why Mum would keep that. Still, a little smile crept around her lips when she looked over the row of trophies on the shelf. Her parents may be feckless and infuriating at times, but they still cared.

Would it be so bad? Would it be so bad to compromise, have a kid, make Billy happy? She was sure she could be a good mum, if—

No. If staying with Billy was unfair to him, then having a kid would be unfair to all of them. She knew what it was like, growing up feeling like an outsider in her own family, feeling like she was not wanted. Children knew these things. She would never put a kid through that.

Just get out of your head and talk to him!

Esme pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes and sighed. She couldn't avoid this. She would have to talk to Billy and live with the outcome, whatever that may be.

***

But Esme didn't find the courage to talk to Billy until a few days after the wedding. She knew he'd noticed something was off but was waiting for her to break the silence first. His consideration only drove the hot needles of guilt deeper inside her. At night, whenever she looked over at Billy, at his face so young and relaxed in sleep, yet the hair falling across his forehead already had a streak of silver in it, those needles would scorch her insides, making her want to cry and tell him to stop wasting his time with her and find someone that could give him the family he wanted. She didn't want him to stay with her only because he thought he wasn't good enough for anyone else.

That day, Esme didn't have the night shift at the clinic and came home in the evening to find Billy already seated at his table, whittling something. They still lived in her tiny two-room flat because it was close to both the vet clinic where she worked and Billy's studio, but their dream was to find a bigger place, preferably somewhere with a garden so Angua could run around and Billy could set up a shed for his woodcarving. Right now, he had to make do with a table in a sunlit corner in their living room, so he only bought home the smallest pieces or his personal projects, little spoons or jewelry like pendants and brooches, carved out of wind-fallen branches he found during their walks.

"You're home early," she said, taking off her bike helmet and leaning down to rub Angua between the ears.

Billy got up and gave her a peck on the lips. "We finished that monstrous Chippendale-knockoff cabinet today, so Jacob told us to have an early night." Jacob, Billy's mentor and boss at the studio, was one of the few positive influences in Billy's life before Esme met him. "What'd you fancy for tea?"

As she watched him move into the kitchen, Esme realized this was it. She had to talk to him now, before her courage failed her or life got in the way and she found another excuse.

"Let's hold tea off for a bit," she said. "There's something I'd like to talk to you about."

Billy sat back down, his big brown eyes turning serious. "I thought you would," he said. "It's about what I said at the wedding, isn't it? About wanting kids?"

A bewildering mixture of relief and dread coursed through Esme—relief because he knew her so well and had taken the difficult task of starting the conversation for her, and dread because the conversation was started so quickly, giving her no time to gather her thoughts. She could only sit down in front of him and nod.

"I know it was kind of sudden," Billy began, "but I mean what I said—"

"You mean you do want kids?"

"I never really thought about it," he said. "Never been with anyone where I had to," he added, taking Esme's hands, "until I met you. Just—you know, the idea of a mini version of you running around—how could I not want that?"

Esme's heart twisted when she thought that she was the one that made him want kids and that he wanted to have kids with her because he loved her so much, yet she—fool, stupid fool! Billy stared at her, probably wondering why she was looking so stricken.

Then it dawned on him.

"You don't want kids," he said. It wasn't a question, not really.

Esme shook her head. "No."

"Is it—is it because of my condition?"

If Esme's heart had been twisting before, then it broke now to see the sad look in Billy's eyes. "No, no, no," she said quickly, putting her hands over his. "No, it's not you. It's just—I've never wanted kids. With anyone. I've spent my entire childhood taking care of Sybil and Sam and Tiff, and that's enough for me."

"But—you'll be a wonderful mum."

For some reason, that raised her hackles. People always say that to women, don't they? But you'll be a great mother. You just haven't met the right person. Biological clock is ticking. You'll change your mind later. On and on and on. To hear it from Billy's mouth felt like the ultimate betrayal. "You mean I should have kids, lest I squander my precious potential, is that it?" she bit out, jerking away from Billy's grasp.

Billy seemed to realize he'd said the wrong thing. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." He reached for her across the table, then thought better of it and dropped his hand again. "And I should've been clearer about the whole kids thing. I only said that because I thought you wanted kids! I don't mind having kids, but I don't mind not having them either." Now he did reach for her and squeezed her hand again. "You're so much more important to me than having kids. Really. Besides, with my genes, I probably shouldn't have kids anyway."

He tried to joke, but every word was another needle in her heart, another painful reminder that she wasn't enough, that she couldn't make him happy.

"We could've adopted," she said.

"But that's not the point, is it?" Billy said, exasperated. "It's not that you don't want to get pregnant, the point is that you don't want kids!"

"Yeah, that's the point," she agreed, her voice muted. "So perhaps you should find someone else. Someone who does want kids."

Billy jumped to his feet. "What the hell are you saying?!"

"This is a deal breaker, Billy," she said. "This kind of incompatibility—there's no going back from it. You either want kids or you don't. There's no in-between."

"Who says there's any incompatibility here? I told you, I don't care about having kids. Why do you have to change your mind and not me? Why is it always you that has to sacrifice?"

"I don't under—"

Billy was getting worked up now, picking up his tools and throwing them down again, his hand flying to his nose and chest in an agitated manner that Esme knew well. She wanted to calm him down, but it was too late. "Is it because I've had it worse?" he said. "Because I've been through more? I thought we'd agreed not to think like that."

Esme was stunned. She'd never considered it that way. "It's not—I don't—" she stammered, trying in vain to keep her voice steady. "I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy! With you! What can I do to convince you?"

A tiny hope bloomed in Esme's chest, making her heart beat wildly behind her ribcage like a frantic bird. She fought to keep it down, trying to stay rational, practical. "What if you regret it later?" she asked.

"I won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Well, how can you be so sure that I will regret anything?"

She didn't have an answer for that. Seeing her relenting look, Billy softened as well. He drew her into his arms and tucked her under his chin. "I know you're worried about me," he said, "but don't be. Why would I want a mini version of you when I already have you?" Esme let out a choked laugh, and he laughed softly as well. "You're my family, Esme. I don't need anyone else."

Esme nestled her head against his chest and allowed herself to believe, for a moment, that she was enough. But she couldn't shake the feeling that Billy was just saying all that to placate her. She knew that the nasty, nagging voice in her head had not been shut down completely, only quieted. If only she knew how to silence it for good...

Chapter 2

I know the consensus is for daily chapters, but I want to give everybody a chance to read this chapter first before I post the others. Don't worry, Chapter 2 and the epilogue are coming soon!

#billy knight #billy knight strike #cb strike #billy knight fic #billy knight x ofc #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn character

[merrybrides]

Oh-So-Pretty Peony Wedding Bouquets

This beloved flower needs no introduction.

Peonies are among the most coveted flowers that grace us year after year, owing to their stunning array of colors and voluminous, velvety petals that captivate our senses. These flowers are particularly popular for weddings, offering delightful ways to incorporate them into your arrangements, whether your style leans toward opulent glamour or a more carefree spirit.

What Is a Peony?

Peonies are a type of perennial (a plant that re-blooms every year). Along with being a favorite for home gardens and landscaping, peonies are one of the most popular wedding flowers of all time. The flowers have large, cupped petals that open and expand over the course of the bloom, which lasts for about one week. Peonies are often mistaken for garden roses but are distinguished by their narrow, elongated leaves and thornless stems.

What Does a Peony Flower Symbolize?

These iconic flowers don't just look pretty—they also hold special significance for your wedding day. Peonies represent a happy marriage, prosperity and bashfulness.

Peony Colors

Peonies bloom in several of the most popular wedding colors, which makes them easy to match almost any color scheme. Peony colors range from white to light pink, coral pink, fuchsia, purple, red and yellow. Peonies have bright yellow stamens at the center.

Peony Season

Peony season is from April to June, making them a popular spring wedding flower.

Peonies can also extend into the summer months, but generally, your florist will have to work harder to find peonies after their peak during the spring season. This could mean sourcing the blooms from a grower in another state or even purchasing them from outside of the U.S., which will ultimately impact your total wedding flower cost.

Average Peony Flower Cost

Because of their short bloom window and incredibly high demand, peonies are one of the most expensive wedding flowers.

The exact cost will vary depending on when you're getting married and where your florist is sourcing the peonies from. If the peonies can be sourced from a local grower and your wedding takes place during peony season, the cost might be slightly lower. Otherwise, shipping fees and seasonality will affect the price.

Tips for Adding Peonies to Your Bridal Bouquet

Your wedding florist should be your first source of truth when it comes to deciding how to add peonies to your wedding bouquet, because ultimately, it depends on your wedding budget and desired style. But there are a few tried-and-true tricks that are helpful to know ahead of time as you're preparing for your floral consultation.

Use peonies as a statement flower.

Peonies make a statement even when they're used in small quantities. Adding just two or three to your wedding bouquet can help elevate the overall design while being a budget-friendly alternative to a full peony arrangement.

Use multiple peonies to maximize their impact.

If you do want to go all out, splurge on a wedding bouquet entirely of peonies. Closed peonies have a formal, classic romance look with their tightly cupped petals.

Open peonies are a little more whimsical and bold, with some flowers spanning several inches wide once the petals have fully bloomed. Skip the accent flowers to put all the focus on the peonies in your bouquet.

Create a playful cascading peony bridal bouquet by mixing blush peonies with a delicate trail of asparagus ferns. Finish the arrangement with white, blush and purple tulip.

#peony wedding bouquet #spring wedding bouquet ideas #wedding bouquet #romantic wedding bouquet #pastel wedding bouquet #peonies #peony #wedding flowers

[thaliajoy-blog]

The little Queen Margaery at her wedding with Renly - I like to think of the words of Elizabeth de Burgh at her own royal wedding with Robert de Bruce when I think of that pair : "Alas, we are but king and queen of the May !". The little Queen of the May - Queen of Summer.

We see more or less subtle hints of her allegeances : she proudly displays the stag horns of the Baratheons but the color scheme is of course a very Tyrell one, gold and green. She holds the Hightower in her hand for her mother, née Alerie Hightower. And around her neck we see not only golden flowers but the grapes of the Arbor, for her grandmother Olenna Redwyne.

#margaery tyrell #maid margaery #asoiaf art #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf #house tyrell #house hightower #house redwyne #house baratheon #queen of the may #renly baratheon #queen of the seven kingdoms #lady olenna #alerie hightower

[bea-lele-carmen]

Image 1: The children name their seaside utopia “Moonrise Kingdom,” giving the movie its title. The two pre-teens running away from their families to live alone together during the summer of 1965, Moonrise Kingdom captures the pubescent feeling in which your parents can’t possibly understand anything.  To the credit of these particular children, they come from fairly idiosyncratic if not downright dysfunctional families, so it’s not necessarily shocking that they’d desire an escape. 

The idyllic atmosphere is furthered by the pastel color scheme of the movie. It’s difficult to feel anything but calm and content while watching Moonrise Kingdom. Eventually, the two are discovered by their parents. Unfortunately, one of the children (Sam)’s parents refuse to house him after he runs away, leading to trouble for the children. With the help of the boy scouts, the children have a fake wedding ceremony on an island before being brought home again by those pesky adults who’ve been putting a fork in their plans throughout the movie. Luckily, the police captain decides to become Sam’s legal guardian, creating a better future for Sam after his foster parents neglected him. In the end, everyone ends up happy and content, with the children planning to hang out again the next day..

While watching Moonrise Kingdom, I couldn’t help but notice its similarities with Lord of the Flies, a classic novel about young boys living on an island alone after a plane crash. In both works, children appreciate the freedom in controlling their lives without parental input.  Furthermore, violence between children arises in each, albeit much more so in Lord of the Flies.   Anderson’s film seems like a more benign and idyllic take on childhood freedom , as if the island in Lord of the Flies is remade into a pastel wonderland.

#moonrise kingdom #Ideal #Freedom #utopia #Love #happiness #Youth #Smart #Indie #Taking #opportunities