#come visit my etsy shop | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smolvenger · 8 months

Text

Twenty-Seven Wounds (Coriolanus x fem! Reader)

Summary: In ancient times, in a place that calls itself Rome, you find yourself married to the general Caius Martius or Coriolanus. He has fought so many battles he has twenty-seven scars on his body. Scars that he has not shown you yet...

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Mentions of sex but no actual smut, discussions of war, violence. Drunkenness and brief harassment but the asshole is put in his place. Grumpy and Sunshine trope. I do my best to write Caius accurately. But at the end of the day, it's MY indulgent fic and here he's a big tough warmonger who becomes a simp that kisses the ground his cinnamon roll wife walks on. References to the play and to ancient Roman customs and words. A fake kidnapping.

Word Count: 3K

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

“General Martius has asked me for your hand in marriage and I consented,” your father announced.

Your vision went dizzy. You had to sit down. You knew many things about General Caius Martius, otherwise known as Coriolanus since his great victory in the land of Corioles.

As you sat back down to process the news, you recounted every instance of interaction. You met him in the chariot races. Menenius introduced you to each other- the senator's bald head shining like a crown and his chest as puffed as a peacock's.

"This is the great General Martius! And General- this is the lady Y/N-isn't she one of our city's great beauties, hm?"

"Sir! Uh-I-thank you!" you replied, very flustered and surprised he would say that.

General Martius made no reply. Only a polite greeting.

You talked with him at dinners. The odd banquet or party. Saw him in the audience of the Gladiator fights, plays, or chariot races.

But Caius was no run-of-the-mill man. He was a renowned general in the army and known as the fiercest warrior Rome could wish for. Notoriously ferocious on a battlefield. A man who breathed war. He was also notorious for his arrogance and stubbornness and sometimes his anger. You knew he was sensitive to smells- his nose would often crinkle as he walked by the streets. You knew his mother, Volumina. You knew he enjoyed the Gladiator fights. Though you sometimes turned away when it got too gruesome. If it was too much, he would escort you out. When you came to chariot races, he would be there.

He was still an incredibly attractive man- dark reddish-blonde hair. Beautiful blue eyes. Tall, broad, and striking. When the betrothal was confirmed, he visited where you stayed. Your father joined your hands together. He held them with a delicacy. He then brought them up and kissed them.

“Y/N…I promise you-I will be an honorable husband. You will be protected. You will want for nothing. And they will revere you as they do for me.”

He brought you a little closer so that your hands became entwined. You were not scared of marrying him. No- what scared you was that you were not scared. What scared you was how badly you wanted to marry him. You should have been frustrated that your father agreed to the match without consulting you. All fathers had complete and total say over their children’s marriages…but you were not angry in the least.

“You will be…gentle to me, Caius?” you asked quietly.

“Yes. Yes, I will,” he replied. He placed another hand over yours.

“Ah! What a pretty picture! Come- let us make an offering to the household gods! Let us pray for a blessing for our Y/N and her warrior groom!” your father announced, rubbing his hands together.

Your wedding happened not too long after. It seemed your family was in a rush to have a connection to the wealthy and famous general.

After the ceremony at the temple of Hera, all of you sat down at your house to a feast. Caius- no, no longer “General Martius” or “General Coriolanus” but just Caius!- sat down next to you. He leaned back and kept an arm around you, his hand rubbing against the side of your arm.

One guest with more wine in his body than decency spittled something that made your stomach curl in offense. He staggered before your seat and pointed a finger at you.

“Ah! Where can I get a twin of this pretty nymph like Martius’s? Hm? Her breasts will look even better without her wedding gown over them!”

Before you could say a word, Caius lept to his feet. He ran before the drunkard and yanked him by the collar to his face.

“You will speak with respect to the wife of a general or you will remain quiet!” he barked at the rude guest.

The room went quiet. You knew if the impulse struck him, Caius would get out his sword and have the bastard sliced in half. The man began to tremble and utter apologies as a friend of his took him away.

“Everyone…let’s have some music now! Before we close the feast-I think it would soothe everyone!” you announced.

Glancing at the musicians frozen with their lyres, they began to play again. You returned to your seat as did your new husband.

“Would you have be different than I am, Y/N?” he whispered to you.

“You were only protecting me…how could I be angry at you or want you different?” you asked.

You gave him a peck on the cheek. He blinked rapidly. You saw him turn bright red and his frown melted into a tiny smile.

Right as the feast started to wind down, your heart began to drum in your chest. There was the staged kidnapping- for all of Rome knew that the best bride was a maiden who was unwillingly taken from home. So every consenting bride had to pretend as a ceremony for the end of the celebrations. Put on a show good enough to fool the gods for luck.

Getting up from the table, Caius went to the other end of the room to exit through the door. Your mother put her arms around you. He then stormed in on cue like in a Euripedian tragedy.

“This house has something I want! Give me Y/N or I will kill every being who keeps me from her!” he announced in pretense.

You could feel yourself trying not to laugh. Your own mother was trying a forced frown.

“Please- mother- don’t let the General take me!” you wailed dutifully.

He went up with his sword out so others stepped back. Then he sheathed it and looked at you, licking his lips.

“I am here! I claim this woman- she is mine now- for my house and my bed!” he declared.

He took you easily from your mother’s arms and then slung you over his shoulders. You let out a brief squeal- trying to make your laughter sound like tears.

“Mother! Mother! Help!” you cried out in pretend. Glad no one could see your smile as he carried you out. And especially glad you could still ogle his pert behind from where you were dangling for the rest of the “kidnapping.”

He carried you down the streets over his shoulder. Then when you arrived at his place, he transferred you so that he carried you with an arm over your back and the other supporting your legs. For it was bad luck for a young bride to trip. And he kept you in his arms as he ignored his mother and the slaves greeting him and took you straight to his bedroom without a word. Everyone gave each other a look and then went on with their business.

Caius’s restraint left him as soon as he entered that room. He set you on your feet and then grabbed you. He kissed you so much you could already feel his tongue inside.

“Gods, you are mine now…” he whispered.

He held you so close. You could feel his heat, his desperation, his need to have you. He kept a hand on your back and kept you close. You were getting wet with each touch of his.

He went down to the belt that held your dress. It was tied in a special knot for today- The knot of chastity. And symbolically, one only your husband was allowed to undo. Your heart raced as he began to touch it, a thumb going over the long threads.

“Caius…I want you…yes-it’s our wedding night, please…” you heard yourself voice.

He pulled and fought at the knot almost so much, that he swore that it wasn’t coming off fast enough. That he would need a knife. Then he used his thumb to edge it out so it would loosen. With several swift tugs and a grunt of his, he yanked the knot undone and the cloth belt came off. He eagerly found the edges of your clothes.

“Yes…my wife…”

You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him again. He then removed the lower parts of his clothes.

There were slaves playing music in the other room. He preferred some quiet music in the evenings. And tonight was no exception. They were to keep playing. To hear him take his wife- no, you. To hear Your cries of pleasure among the soft strings. They were playing when he led you to his lectus and your marriage was passionately consummated.

You adjusted to married life surprisingly well. And in private, Caius was not the fearsome dragon some heralded him to be. Yes- he was arrogant and stubborn at his worst. But he could be…persuaded, you discovered.

“And the peasants were crying that they wanted more grain! Grain from our storages!” he reported to you one day over dinner.

“Well…couldn’t we spare just a little bit, dear husband?” you asked.

A Slave brought you a bowl of dates and then left to refill your wine glasses.

“For the rabble? No-let them hang!” he dismissed.

He tore a bite of meat from its leg and chewed on it like a bear with prey. But you kept your eyes soft and gave him a smile.

“They’re only hungry. Even I become cross when I am hungry! And we have so much food here. Really, it’s more than I can eat! And there are always so many leftovers…surely….just a little grain could be spared, Caius? It would warm my heart to see so many hungry people be fed…they do not complain without reason…perhaps then they won’t complain about you anymore. Just a little bit of grain, Caius? Please?”

You saw his shoulders start to sag. With a deep sigh, he gestured to one of his slaves

“Tell them that five percent of the grain stored will be gathered and distributed to the protesters,” he said.

You smiled as you looked down.

He was content to sit quietly beside you in some evenings. You could weave your loom and the man who craved battles would merely go over parchments beside you. His desire was like that of an animal though. It only took a look or a smile from you before he was on you, kissing you, and pulling at your clothes to have them come off. The nights when you both did not make love, he still wanted to touch you. He would pull you onto him to rest your head against his chest. You would permit him to rub your back with his hand and wrap his arms protectively around you. As if not even Zeus himself could get past Caius Martius to the treasure that lay in his arms. He often would touch you gently. Even as you walked past him, he would softly just touch a cloth of your skirt, feeling the fabric slip through his fingers longingly as you had to leave.

There was one dinner where your mother, Volumina, decided to put you to the test. You knew it. As you sat down on the floor enjoying your food, she turned to you and declared something most people would find offensive.

“Ah! I hope in the next battle that my son will receive another scar! Don’t you, Y/N?”

On one hand, you did not want your husband to suffer. But this was Volumina. Her whole life’s purpose was to create a soldier of her boy. To serve the wars in her own way through what she could do behind the scenes. To see him either victorious or dead was her life’s work. Glory in battle meant glory for her and the Martius family.

Carefully, you added a reply with a dutiful nod of your head.

“Yes- should the scars not be fatal, I see them as badges of honor. And if they were-I am proud to have a husband willing to give his life for the safety of Rome’s people. And if I must sacrifice him for all our sakes, I will make it,” you replied.

“Ah! What a sweet woman you have for your wife, Caius!” Volumina praised, her stained lips curved into a smile.

There, the middle ground. It wasn’t that bad. But as she slid aside her plate, her talk turned. She looked at you, dressed in her dark clothes with her dark hair done up. Her smile was still big on her creamy face.

“Did you know, Y/N, that my son bears a total of twenty-seven scars from battle!?” she asked.

“No-he never told me it was that many,” you said with a quick glance at him.

“Yes! And may Ares bring him twenty-seven more!” Volumina said.

But you had never seen such scars.

After a few months, you realized something- you had never seen him bare. That was odd. Most women would tell you of how the first time they saw Octavius Cato’s or so-and-so’s willy they burst into laughter. But even the hundreds of times you made love, Caius kept his shirt on. He preferred to bathe alone, never going into the bathhouses. The times he did bathe, sometimes you heard him groan in pain outside the room. As if the scars were still fresh. He always went behind a screen to dress. In bed, he only wore a toge that had short sleeves. You saw a cut over his shoulder peep out. It looked almost like the crack of an earthquake on the soil. But whenever you tried to nudge it in bed, he would move your hand away, asking you to stop.

You were still unequal. He had kissed every inch of your bare skin. But you had not even seen it. As frightening as that scratch looked, you had to see more.

That is, until one night. It was uncomfortably warm. You sweated on your shared lectus, tossing and turning in discomfort. You turned over to see Caius was still awake. He then rolled over of you confirming to the other that you were not asleep. You slept in your underclothes and he still had that toge. And he was sweating.

“I think you should undress,” you said.

He turned around, though you could smell his sweat dripping down.

“It’d be better if I didn’t,” he huffed.

You touched his shoulder, turning him to face you.

“Caius…why do you show no one your scars?” you asked.

He swallowed.

“They’re….they’re only when Rome needs to see them. When they lose sight. When they lose respect.” he said. r.

“Am I not part of Rome, too?” you asked.

He paused.

“Yes…yes you are…” he answered.

“You’ve never…bared yourself to me like I have to you,” you commented.

“They’re gruesome. It would…it would have scared you, I thought. You wouldn’t want to sleep beside them…too gruesome…”

He sat up.

“I’ll sleep somewhere else tonight-you don’t want to look at them,” he announced.

But you stopped his hand and kept him still.

“Caius…may I see them, please?” you asked.

You gingerly touched his chest, right over the toga he wore to bed. You only saw the scratches around his collarbones.

“Are you afraid?” he asked.

“No. They’re a part of you…I want to see them…” you urged.

His eyes softened. Then you both sat up in bed.

“Then…then remove it for yourself and see.” he permitted.

You went to the corner edges of his own robe. He helped you as you lifted it over his head. You then got a candle to see it better.

You knew he was a strong man, but there were so many scratches, lashes, and cuts you could not make out the muscles clearly. There were so many cuts and lashes-they looked so dark across his skin. All over his torso. Then there were the newer ones from the battle at Corioles-they still looked red. You set the candle back down on the table near the bed.

“I understand if you wish not to lie with me anymore…I will make arrangements where-”

“No, you don’t have to!” you interrupted.

For once in his life, Caius Martius Coriolanus closed his mouth and he listened.

“Twenty-seven of them. Twenty-seven times you have been wounded. Twenty-seven times you could have died…and didn’t,” you said. “Can I touch them?”

“Yes,Y/N, you can…”

You lightly took your hand and felt the bumps and edges. He flinched only slightly, then relaxed into it. You could feel the warmth of the sweltering night on him.

“Caius…may I kiss them?” you asked.

“Yes…”

You gently kissed the back of your three fingers and pressed them over the lower scars. You knew putting your mouth lower would stir something in him. Now was not the moment…and it seemed he would agree. His breathing was deep as your kissed fingers touched the lower ones. Such chaste, light kisses like a butterfly's wing.

As they moved up to his chest, you peppered one kiss across one. Then another. You paused, your mouth over his skin, his steady pulse shaking from your touch.

“Each one…you survived. You defeated your enemies…you protected your allies…and you protected me…and you survived, Caius,” you whispered.

He put a hand to touch your cheek and you leaned into it.

“Dulcissima…my sweetest…thank you…”

“Do they hurt right now?” you asked.

His voice smoothed and spoke with such tenderness as you had never heard before. He put an arm around you as you kept kissing them.

“No…they never felt more relieved…my wife, her kisses have their own little medicine…”

You moved up to his shoulder from the first fresh one from Corioles, sweetly kissing them. His soft voice spoke on and you could feel yourself burst from his words.

“Dearest of my heart…my gift from Hera and Aphrodite themselves…”

You kissed the gash on his upper left arm. Then you lifted up to meet him, his eyes brimming with tears.

“There…twenty-seven kisses for each scar…”

Then he relaxed, your hand tracing his chest. You blew the candle out to the dark. The room suddenly became cooler. Then you nuzzled into him, settling into him. How warm he felt-so close and so real. His chest moving and falling.

“Caius…why did you want to marry me?” you asked.

“I thought…you would do well, being married to me. You…you’re good to me. You…you smiled when you saw me. You weren’t afraid…” he confessed.

“I was nervous every time you noticed me!” you recalled.

You felt the smile in his voice. His other hand found yours and wrapped itself over your palm. He went on.

“So was I! I hate banquets and parties…but I went to them in case you were there. I watched you squirm at the gladiator fights and look away and wish I could…just take you in my arms and take you away from them. But…then there was the time I was with your father’s…. You said something, and it made me laugh…I laughed! That was…when I knew…when I knew I had to be your husband.”

You looked up at him. His eyes were shiny. But you did not see tears. He swallowed, perhaps looking away made him more honest. You nestled back into him and clung to him. He kept talking.

“I kept…thinking of you. Of what you would say. I kept going to the market. Every day. Just to see you. Even just a glimpse of you passing by. Just one glimpse-not much. To see you walk up to the bathhouses….”

“And you never went in to see me in there…because of your scars?” you asked.

“I knew you frequented them. I confess- I am a man. As much as I would have loved to see you naked and wet, it meant scaring the others away when I removed my clothes, it would have scared you away…”

You went back to look at him. This time you touched his face, looking directly into his blue eyes.

You pressed a forehead to his.

“They don’t scare me…not anymore, and you don’t scare me…” you whispered. “Caius…Caius, I love you…”

“Y/N…I…I love you too…”

That evening, as the night settled over a place that called itself Rome, you relaxed into bed with your husband. You wrapped your arms to embrace him and he did not put on his toge to hide his scars. He only held you tight. His scars only barely brushed against you. Badges of war. Badges of honor. Badges of protection. He kissed the top of your head as you both settled into sleep.

146 notes · View notes

lolcatsdeamon13 · 4 months

Text

Hey friends!

Yiddishland California is a cultural center and museum that puts on excellent classes and events, including Yiddish Theater classes, Intermediate Yiddish reading circles, and even beginner's Yiddish yoga! They are committed to keeping the wonderful and vibrant language alive, including the culture and community that surrounds the language.

They are in trouble! There was some sort of issue with being able to stay in their location, so they need to raise $100k by the end of the month to stay open!

Please join me in donating (Here). I gave my tzedakah this month to them, and I hope you do too!

If you're in the Southern California area, they're having a relocation party on January 21st, 2024 from 5-8pm. Come visit to see great art and support such a great organization!!

For the rest of us that can't get down to California and want to support not just by donating, please consider buying something from their Etsy shop! They have a bunch of rare books and vinyl and your purchase will help the organization!

#Yiddish #Yiddishland #Yiddishland California #jublr #jumblr #judaism #jewish #langblr #I found this place and my mum got so excited that she might finally be able to connect with her parents (z''l) through a yiddish theater c #lass but then when I called to see when the next class was they told me about their deadline for the location #culture #theatre #theater #Yiddish theater #donate #please donate

74 notes · View notes

wishuponastarion · 2 months

Text

Code: Megamind notepads are here!!

Limited to 25, these 4x6", 50-page, 70 lb paper notepads are eco-friendly AND villainous! The pages are glued at the top but are non-sticky (though who knows, Post-Its may come later....from Romania).

Show off your Evil Overlord flair with some fan-designed, professionally-produced merch!

And if you visit my Etsy shop, use code OLLOTUMBLR for 15% off everything (or use the link above).

Thanks, Tumblr - I love you, random citizens! 🩵

#megamind #merch #fanart #dreamworks #stationery

43 notes · View notes

luv4fandoms · 2 years

Text

At Last-Ralph x FReader (ch 1)

So I haven't written in over a year lol, and this was SUPPOSE to be a one-shot, but I started writing and got in the groove again sooooo...it became a chapter story! Lol. Hoping to get a chapter out every Friday til the story is finished that way I can balance it with running my Etsy shop and all 😊.

Summery: After you and your friends are transported back to the 1920's by a time machine elevator, you embark on an adventure, and that adventure leads to a beautiful man.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Pairing: Ralph x Reader

Words: 3,328

Warnings: Ralph being a cutie, also some possible trigger words for some, I do apologize, I was simply quoting the show and they were used.

I also have a Ko-Fi 😊

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

"At last, my love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song"

"So…Just to recap so that I know I am not losing my mind here….We actually just followed a homeless man into an elevator"

"Yeah"

"That was actually a time machine"

"Yeah"

"That actually took us back to the 1920's"

"Yeah"

"How do you know it's the 20's?"

"Which box do we check first, the cars? The hair? The fashion?"

"1920's London"

"Not exactly what I signed up for when I decided to vacation from America" you sighed, looking around the cobblestone road. Somehow, because you still couldn't wrap your head around a time machine elevator, you and your four friends had landed yourselves in London…In the 1920's. Horace and Jason were looking around please, for different reasons, Horace in amusement and Jason at all the women. Nick looked like he was about to have an aneurysm, while you and Lauren sat back and took in your situation. You would be lying if you said that this whole thing was at least somewhat exciting, odd and unbelievable, but exciting. You had decided to visit your friends over the summer, having met Lauren online some years ago when you were in a Facebook group for "Things to do when in London", since you were hoping to visit that following year. Lauren and you struck up a fast friendship over music, and soon found you had a lot of similar interests.

"Alright, let's just stick together and avoid any

plantations." Nick said after a moment.

"Imagine all the things we could do." Horace said with a smile

"Invest in stocks and shares and get filthy rich in the present day." Lauren replied with a mischievous smile back.

"I was gonna say burn a witch, but we could do that." Horace replied

"...Now I suddenly don't feel safe" You replied, causing Horace to turn to you.

"Can trace my ancestors back to Salem remember" you laughed, causing his eyes to widen.

"Right! No, sorry, no witch burning" he backtracked, causing you to laugh more.

"It doesn't matter what time we're in, any time before the mid-'80s isn't good for black people." Nick stressed

"You have a point" You stated

"Bruv, how can you not wanna explore? We owe it to ourselves! People like us never

get to time travel. It's what white people do,

like skiing, or brunch." Jason replied,

"Anyone got a fiver? I'm gonna buy a house." Lauren laughed as you all made your way onto the streets.

"Look at you perving at all the ye olde ladies." She teased Jason.

"I'm just appreciating when women dressed like women, and not like twelve-year-old schoolboys." He told her, earning a punch in the arm.

"I wouldn't call you eyeing every woman as simply appreciating" you laughed. Noticing a woman staring at Lauren before muttering.

"That reminds me, I must buy some black pudding."

"Would it mess with the future if I smacked that woman in the face right now?" Lauren asked, causing everyone to snicker but bringing up a very good question, what would happen to the future, your timelines, by you simply existing in the 20's?

"No, seriously, she's right. Time, space, ripple

effects and all that. What would happen?" Nick asked, causing Horace to reach into his pocket.

"Homeless Pete gave me some rules. Um 1, Don't kill anyone."

"That's not even specific to time travel." Nick muttered

"Don't impregnate, get impregnated. Don't touch any animals."

"Awe there goes your fun Jason" you teased.

"Have fun and try to blend in." Horace finished

"Try to blend in?" You asked

"Am I the only one noticing that?" Nick pointed behind you, you all turned and noticed a large crowd of white people gathered to stare…ah…yeah…people of color were not as common in these times indeed.

"Why are we in a suit shop?"

"Because I didn't see a Foot Locker."

You noticed the man behind the desk look up from his magazine as you all walked in before suddenly looking very scared.

"Good afternoon" he said nervously

"How may I eat you-, help you?" He quickly corrected himself, his eyes landing on you.

"Hello sir, my friends would like suits please"

"Y-Yes of course, I'll just go eat the-Get the manager" he nervously smiled before escaping to the backroom.

"She's alright." You heard Jason say as you leaned over the counter to see the magazine the man had been looking at…Ah cannibals…that explains the oddness.

"Going by the day's events, don't you think you have enough girlfriends?" Nick asked

"Alright, then you go talk to her."

"Well, obviously I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because she's about 90 years older than me."

"What?"

"Yes, I could go outside,and yes, I could chat her up. But what if I fell for her, and she for I?

And we had this whirlwind love affair where we couldn't be without one another.

And at the peak of everything, she decides to come back with me to the 21st century. But as we return to the present day, I'd turn to her only to see that she'd become the age she would be in that time. And I would have the girl of my dreams as an old woman, dying in my arms." Nick concluded.

"Ahh Nick, always the romantic" you snickered

"Bruv, I just said to get her phone number." Jason replied just as a new voice spoke up.

"Ahem!"

Spinning around you suddenly felt like the air got knocked out of you as you looked toward the new people in the small shop.

'Oh…Oh'

"Hello" they spoke at the same time, and you could hear Horace say something along the lines of

"Hail thee, good morrow,how doth thou?" Behind you, but he sounded so far away, everything did, it was like everything suddenly blurred into nothing until there was just him. He wore a cream colored suit and a boater hat, a simple enough outfit for the time but that wasn't what caught your attention, his eyes, the way his smile made them sparkle as he excitedly told the woman beside him to ask them, before prompting her again, causing her to quickly snap at him and his smile fell, and you watched his eyes dull a bit, the sight making your heart clench.

'Don't look sad please,never look sad'

"Ask us what?"

"We were just wondering-" He started but again was cut off by the woman, you could feel yourself beginning to get annoyed at her as you watched his eyes dull even further.

"Yes, Ralph!..Are you a jazz band?"

"What makes you think we're a jazz band?" Lauren asked, and you watched his eyes move over to her, eyeing her up and down and you felt your chest ache…So…Even in a different time nothing changes. Your eyes drift away from him, everything coming into focus again as Nick and the woman talked.

"Quartet."

"Well, four (five) coloured chaps in London. What else could you be?" She replied

"You're also carrying instruments." He added

"Oh, so you are." She smiled, looking at their hands and glancing at you.

"Now call it fate, but Ralph and I are hosting a sick-makingly glorious birthday party." She smiled excitedly, something about this woman gave you a headache already, but at least now you knew his name was Ralph…It suited him.

"We're twins.Non-identical." he stated, as if the non-identical needed to be added you thought, finding yourself smiling a bit.

"I was born first." She added

"So Victoria and I are having

a party-" he started again, only to get cut off once more, and by how he slowly sank back you knew this happened often…Too often.

"Yes, Ralph!...And daddy promised us a Negro jazz band."

"You really shouldn't use that word." Lauren added.

"Oh, sorry. A Negro jazz quartet. Quite a shame, the band we hired cancelled.

"One of the poor fellows got polio." They laughed, causing you all to kind of look at one another.

"Typical, isn't it? All bad things seem to happen to me." She pouted

"How much we talking?" Lauren asked

"You'll be paid fabulously"

"So please, please, please say you're a jazz quartet!"

"We are a jazz quartet."

"Sorry, we'd love to but unfortunately we've got to get home." Nick started but Lauren jumped in

"We'll be there."

"Wondrous!"

"It is rather a formal affair."

"Yes, so no curious native trousers or, um, spongy foot sheaths."

"I can't wait!"

"Please don't let us down, otherwise Ralph and I will howl with shame and take our lives in a tragic double suicide." She stated, causing everyone to let out a nervous laugh, except they weren't laughing…before a simple.

"See you chaps later!" And just like that, they were gone. You watched them through the window, watched as he retreated with his sister, his excitement visible if only for a moment before she dampened it again.

"All I'm saying is that when people time travel, it's to prevent a natural disaster or to save mankind from extinction.Not to perform as a

'Negro jazz quartet'" Nick ranted after everyone left the shop with their new suits, you excluded. You looked around after you all stopped in the street, everyone ranting about how Nick wanted a paid gig and now they have one, Nick ranting about how everyone needed to get home and he was going to go back and find the lift to get us out of there. In the end Nick left on his own, leaving the four of you in the streets.

"Right so do we just have a look around then?" Horace asked.

"You can go ahead, I'm going to look in some shops, still need to find some clothes" you replied, thumbing towards some more shops.

"Oh right!" Horace started but Lauren cut in

"Why don't you lot go on ahead, we'll meet you at the gig" she stated, before walking with you towards the shops. The first two shops you both quickly walk out of after looking at the price tags. Yes you had some money but not that much. The 3rd shop was a bit cheaper, it was a bit of a thrift store in a way, returns from other shops that maybe had lost a few beads or had been repaired hung on the walls.

"So…You trying to look your best tonight?" Lauren asked while you looked at the dresses.

"Just looking to blend in I suppose" you shrugged, watching as she nodded but continued to stare at you from the corner of her eye.

"So you wouldn't be looking for somethin' to catch his eye?" She asked after a moment, causing your head to whip in her direction.

"W-what?" You asked, trying to keep your voice low and even.

"Come off it, I saw the way you stared at what's his name…Ralph, back there. Looked like a deer in the headlights, if the deer was also in love with the car" she smirked before adding.

"Also pretty sure I heard you gasp when you first turned around"

"I….I don't know what you're going on about, I had no such look" you stated, going back to the dress.

"Oh really?"

"Really"

"Cause it looked to me like-"

"He had his eye on someone else anyways, now can we please drop it?" You sighed, grabbing a dress and heading to the changing room. Lauren watched you walk away, confused by your reaction, she was only teasing in her own sort of way, but the way you acted…she felt like she was opening an old wound. When you emerged again you were dripping in black and gold, a beaded headpiece around your (h/c) locks and a faux pearl bracelet around your wrist. Mary Janes adored your feet and as you looked at yourself in the mirror you truly felt like you were living your Great Gatsby fantasy.

"Whoa" Lauren said behind you.

"Good Whoa or Bad Whoa?" You asked, teeth worrying your bottom lip.

"Good Whoa" she smiled, causing you to sigh, before you grabbed your bag that was now filled with your old clothes and walked to the cashier, handing her the money, very glad you had exchanged your Dollars for Pounds.

After shopping the two of you met up with Horace and Jason again, walking around the town for a bit before heading to the party. A party that you were both looking forward to and dreading. Once there you were shocked by the amount of people already there, and the amount of alcohol. You watched as the three of your friends drank from the bottle, you yourself sipping from your cup, before Jason noticed something, tapping Lauren on the arm.

"Someone's got an admirer." He nodded towards a table, you all looked over and noticed Ralph, his eyes raking over Lauren as he smiled at her.

"I'm guessing he's gonna be pretty pissed off when he finds out you're a girl." Jason joked

"Yeah, well I'm guessing Victoria's gonna be pretty pissed when she finds out you're a girl." Lauren replied, her eyes looking over to find you, your front facing the bar, your back to Ralph as you drank your drink. She looked back at Ralph, noticing that his eyes were on you, eyebrows furrowed before he caught her gaze, smiling again. The rest of the night was a whirlwind, first there was trying to stall hoping Nick would show up, then Jason almost started up with how it was now a Trio, the Wu-tang clan, before Nick actually showed up and they played their asses off. You couldn't help but actually enjoy yourself, the alcohol in your system mixing with the good music made it easier as you danced with random men and women. But all nights had to come to an end, and so soon while you were gathering round with your friends and smiling, Victoria and Ralph appeared.

"Such a giddy-making delight of a night, all thanks to you gentlemen." She smiled, before looking at the boys.

"Now, who would like a dance with the birthday girl?" She asked, Horace started to raise his hand before Jason pushed it down.

"I thought you'd never ask." He smiled and left with her.

"And what about the birthday boy?" Ralph asked, and your eyes met Lauren's.

"Oh, I'm not-" Horace started but Ralph cut him off.

"Oh no, I was talking to that-,This one-, particular one of you." He gestured to Lauren before asking her directly.

"Would you?" She looked over at you once more, unsure of what to do, and noticed Ralph turn his head to look at you as well, seemingly following Lauren's gaze. You smiled, hoping it was a happy and reassuring smile, but the look on her face said that the disappointment showed through. But she still sighed, looked at Ralph and nodded.

"Yeah, go on then". You watched them head to the dance floor, Ralph looking especially excited while Lauren looked uneasy.

"Oi, you alright?" Horace asked, looking over at you.

"Me? On yeah I'm fine" you waved him off, going back to your drink.

"You sure, you look….sad"

"No I'm fine, just a bit tired is all" you lied, and from the look on his face, he didn't buy it.

"Right come on then" he stated, putting your drink down and grabbing your hand.

"Excuse you sir" you laughed.

"Nope, don't even try it, no friend of mine is going to be looking like the girl who didn't get asked to prom" he smiled, you knew his comment was supposed to cheer you up but he didn't have to hit home like that.

"Thank you?" You questioned as the two of you started dancing.

You couldn't help the glances over to Lauren and Ralph, glances you thought were sneaky…guess you thought wrong"

"You fancy him?"

"What?"

"You do" Horace smiled

"I don't know what you're talking about" you stated, slightly glaring at your friend.

"You find him proper fit yeah?"

"Horace please" you begged

"I'm not gonna tell, everyone has their types" he smiled.

"His is Lauren" you muttered, but he was close enough to catch it.

"So that's what's got you so down" he spoke, making you look at him.

"Don't let one fish ruin the sea for you"

"It isn't just one fish though" you sighed, jumping slightly when Lauren's voice was beside you.

"Why don't we switch partners, make the evening even more fun" she smiled an uneasy smile at you, Ralph behind her looking confused as she took your hands from Horace and replaced them with her own, both of them trying not to grimace at the weird action for them both.

"Oh..um.." you stood, mouth opening and closing as they danced away, you slowly turned and were met with those same eyes that made your entire world melt away just this morning.

"Shall we then?" He asked after a moment.

"Oh..yes…sure" you gave a shy smile, placing one hand on his shoulder and holding his other, your breath catching in your throat when his hand rested on your waist. The two of you slowly swayed to the music, your eyes darting between his gaze and anywhere else, afraid if you stared too long you may get lost in those brown puppy dog eyes. It really should have been illegal for someone to look this beautiful. But a distinct tapping sound brought you out of your thoughts and as you slowly identified the sound you couldn't help the giggle.

"Are you wearing tap shoes?"

"Yes, aren't they wizard!" He smiled excitedly, his eyes twinkling just as they had this morning. And you couldn't stop the smile that reached your lips at the sight.

"Very, if I knew tap shoes were allowed I would have brought some, they make dancing more fun" you laughed, causing him to smile even brighter at you.

"Oh do they, tonight has been the best birthday" he replied, and you nodded, because it really had been a good night.

"I'm glad you had fun Ralphie, happy birthday" you smiled, and watched as his face slowly morphed from excited to shocked, making your smile drop to a confused expression.

"Ralphie?" He questioned, causing your eyes to go wide as you quickly tried to come up with something, how could you do that? How could you slip up and give him a nickname the day you met him?! And not just any nickname, but one that sounds like it would be said by a lover! You wracked your brain for something, completely missing the blush that had spread on his cheeks from the nickname as he replayed it again and again in his head.

'Ralphie…Ralphie' he loved the sound of it, or maybe he loved the sound of you saying it with such affection, his mind playing him small movies, you sitting next to him, his head in your lap as he played his ukulele, you smiling down at him, playing with his hair as he sung…You curled up in his arms as he read you his favorite book, both of you comfortable under his sheets before you would drift off for the night…You atop him…your dress slowly sliding off your shoulder, your head thrown back and mouth open as you repeated that name…his na-

"I'm so sorry, I forgot that some people don't like nicknames, I tend to give them without thinking, I really am sorry" you settled on your excuse, watching as he blinked repeatedly, seemingly coming out of his thoughts.

"That's um" he cleared his throat.

"That's quite alright, you just caught me unaware, I'm not used to being called such…simply Ralph" he replied, finally meeting your eyes again, and you noticed his pupils were a little blown.

"Sorry, I'll just stick to Ralph" you tried to laugh it off but he quickly cut you off"

"I like Ralphie.

Chapter 1 done!! Let me know what you think!

Also let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist.

Taglist

@quirkyquartney

@the-a-word-2214

@no-mercy-bby

Your dress

#joseph quinn #ralph #timewasters #he is such a precious bean!#chapter 1 #at last #ralph x reader #this boy holds a place in my heart

649 notes · View notes

akinari-kashihara · 2 months

Text

Buddy Daddies fans if you're still out there... look at my cute stickers This series deserves the love

We're at BB2 if you're visiting ACME Spring this weekend ;w; please come see them

[Shop | Etsy]

#Buddy Daddies

32 notes · View notes

natureselements · 8 months

Text

With immense pain we had to put our beloved fur-baby of 12 years down last week, Soul Dartanian💚

He experience a hernia rupture that flooded the left side of his lungs and body, it was to late to help. There wasn’t a way of us even knowing he had a hernia since he never showed signs of anything wrong with him, ever.

This is the most unexpected and tragic thing for me as he was there for so long, back when I had nothing and no one. He was my first son, familiar, best friend, an extension of me. Words don’t express the sadness that comes with death, but I know he is still right beside us guarding from the other world, my guardian✨

Due to having to take him to the emergency vet, the bill was quite heavy and it’s been difficult juggling it all. I have put our Etsy shop on a 20% discount for the time being to help our items find their forever homes and help us to support the extra vet costs🙏

You can visit our shop here 🌿

Thank you for your time and love, may it return tenfold💚

63 notes · View notes

potatocat · 3 months

Text

A special Patreon Comic of the Robins reminiscing about last year and being hyped for 2024! New birthday sketches, comics, Patreon 💌, art and more to come! 😍

💛 All the new and previous Go!Robins! fluffiness can be enjoyed on: https://patreon.com/Yolin Through Patreon you can help support the Go!Robins! project & get early access to all the comics, request avatars, vote in polls, enjoy art and special events + lots more!

🌻 Welcome to my Little Shop 🌻 (stationary, enamel pins, charms, art-prints, stickers and more!): YolinArt.etsy.com

28 notes · View notes

anyroads · 3 months

Text

Added earrings to the Etsy store...

OK so look, I haven't made earrings for over a decade but I had a box of beads and jump rings and hooks and whatnot that's been sitting on the shelf for ages and I decided it was time to make them into pretty things that can make someone else feel happy and pretty and dainty and yay! The photos I've posted are so-so, so if you click the link below you might see better ones already posted. In any case, I design and made all of these by hand myself:

It was kind of cathartic to figure out what I wanted to do with each of these designs and then make them. I bought most of these beads in a store in Budapest that closed a few years ago. It was December 23rd, which I remember because I wanted to make sure I got the shopping trip in before the store closed between Christmas and New Year's. I wanted to make earrings during those slow, quiet days.

I went to see my grandfather on my way to the store, stopping at his place to say hello, and telling him I was running an errand and then would come back to have dinner with him. I would visit him every day when I was in town and was very fond of him. When I arrived back at his place, bead haul in tow, he was lying in bed unconscious and his caregiver was in a panic.

I won't get into the whole story, but the long and short of it is, because I went to buy these beads I got back at just the right time to sort out the situation (the caregiver was useless) and hold his hand as he passed away. Had I not gone to the bead store, my visit with him would have ended before his heart slowed and he started feeling tired and went to bed early. You hear stories sometimes of small choices people make that change their lives because of what they're around for and what they miss, and I've never quite gotten over how close I got to not having that final moment with someone I loved so much. It was a profound and personal moment I got to share with him (and am so glad for it, because my parents, who have their own baggage, chose to scatter his ashes without me out of carelessness).

Needless to say, I didn't have much opportunity to make earrings that week, let alone interest in doing so. I think I've been holding on to these beads for such a long time because of that night and the lack of closure, and turning them into something beautiful felt just a little bit transformative. It's nice to think they might go out into the world and fulfill their tiny purposes, and I'm not longer holding onto something that I'm finally ready to let go of.

I've posted them in my etsy store:

#earrings #etsy

31 notes · View notes

dragonnan · 6 months

Text

Need Help

Hey all. So this is incredibly hard to be at this point. And all the harder knowing people on this site are in the exact same position. As it is, income has been next to nonexistent this year. Mom and I have been reliant on her $400 SS (the remainder is allotted towards bills and managed in a separate bank account managed by my brother who is in charge of her SS payments). All that to say, after the government did away with Covid era SNAP benefits we only get $23 a month towards groceries and the rest of the food budget comes out of that $400. The $400 also, due to my lack of income, must also cover my monthly bills. Granted, my bills aren't extreme. The breakdown is below:

Adobe: $40

Care Credit: $25

Disaster Loan repayment: $25

Phone bill: $30

Misc smaller bills: $20

What hurt me this month is the annual bills - particularly my website/email domain which is $72. That came through today. My bank account is at a zero balance. I had made just enough earlier this month to cover my Adobe and phone bills. But I don't have anything to deal with the other bills and I'm going to be overdrawn due to the automatic $72 bill.

So here is where I am needing to ask for help. I'm hoping to get enough to cover the overdraft (typically about $30) as well as my remaining bills and a bit for additional groceries as well.

If I could end up with about $250 that would be amazing. I absolutely understand if a donation is beyond anyone's budget. I also super appreciate simply sharing this post.

If you are able to donate, there are a few options below:

Paypal: www.paypal.me/nanwriter Venmo: @Tanya-Ramsey-2

If donating doesn't feel comfortable you can also visit my Etsy shop where I have many products for sale. You can use the coupon code THANKYOU to save 25% off anything in my shop.

I am so incredibly grateful for anything you can do to help.

#financial crisis #need help

33 notes · View notes

outregeneration · 1 month

Text

I sent this custom jellyfish hat out to its new home today! Come visit my Etsy shop to see more awesome stuff!

#jellyfish hat #jellyfish #under the sea #sea creatures #etsy

13 notes · View notes

smolvenger · 11 months

Text

A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter Two (Loki x fem! A Court of Thorns and Roses Hiddlesverse AU)

Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series is reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters. Especially the events in the second book: A Court of Mist and Fury. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him. Opening you to a world of more magic and danger than you ever could imagine...

Chapter One

Chapter Summary: You recount the details of the deal only to the lack of belief from your loved ones. On your wedding day, you uncover a letter revealing a shocking and heartbreaking truth about William...

Chapter Warnings: Cheating-Not Loki, But discussing William's canonical actions in The Essex Serpent and portraying them as *checks notes* bad, so Will Ransome fans and Lusty Vicarettes- you have been warned. Reader having bad self-esteem. A bit of fluff but then a LOT of angst. Discussions of sex. We wait for Loki to appear. A cliffhanger.

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

It took much searching in the library and bookshelves of neighbors, but you found a book of Norse Mythology. Once you did, you asked to speak with Will and your parents alone one evening. You sat the book down on the table before them. You flipped the pages. You found the first page introducing Loki and then pointed to it. You then showed it to the three people at the table- your parents and fiancée.

“That was him! There!” you said.

Your mother put on spectacles to read further and then looked up at you, shaking her head.

“Really, Y/N. The Norse god Loki was who healed you?” she questioned.

“Yes. It was. I am not joking, mama- I am completely serious,” you said.

Your father perked up. When he flipped a page, there was an illustration of the dark-haired trickster god grinning as he petted a few cats.

“I’ve heard very often those dying of tuberculosis have hallucinations…” your father mused.

“I thought he was a vision too! But he-he was tall and lean and had dark hair! He was wearing black and green robes! And he-he looked a little like you, William!”

William looked down at the illustration, his eyes squinted, trying to find the resemblance. But there was a failure to see the resemblance between his curly reddish-blonde hair and Loki’s dark hair. Nothing with Loki’s gaudy grin and William’s serious frown.

“Did you visit her that day? Perhaps she saw you and hallucinated the wrong hair color!” your father asked.

William clenched his jaw.

“No, I did not. I had to take stock of my tithes from the people. Not until after dear Y/N’s miracle.”

You folded your hands on the table.

“If Loki was a vision- then how would that explain why I am already completely better? The doctor didn’t visit me at all that morning, and he gave me no treatments, no medicines! Even if he did-This was quick and sudden!” you cried.

“It’s a miracle from God-you are just misplacing where your faith is,” your mother said.

You then opened your hands to show it to them. A hand flew up to your mother’s mouth- the sight never failed to shock her. Though they had seen it.

“Then explain these!!! How did this happen?!” you argued, exasperated.

They examined it, all looking at the mark and touching it, pulling your hand to examine it carefully.

“Usually, a scar from something like an illness is red…these are jet black! They haven’t come off yet and I’ve washed them fifty times!” you continued.

Your mother sighed through her nose. They dropped your hand. Though Will peeked at the book again, putting a hand to his mouth as he flipped to look at the different pages.

“Y/N…we just find it hard to believe…” your mother said.

You looked at all three of them. You clenched your jaw and your hands rolled up to fists. Hardening your gaze, you spoke:

“I told all of you the truth. And if you believe me or not, that is up to you.”

Your mother reached over and took your hand.

“Sometimes…miracles do occur. And you don’t ask why or how they happened…you learn to accept it…”

Your father began to nod. Will perked up, his eyes glistening. He even smiled, perhaps noting to mention that in a future sermon.

That you could accept.

When you were alone with Will the next day, you both went on a stroll. The luxury of privacy was included with the engagement to marry. With the brown dog barking by your side, both of you walked out to the fields outside the town. It was the first thing you did after you were engaged, and you recalled smiling from the warmth of the coat he draped over your shoulders to guard you against the chill. Despite the grey clouds that day, you paused your steps and looked up at him, opening your hand to show the star mark.

“I must tell you- this is the price I paid. I must go to him. Even after we’re married- you won’t see me for a week every month,” you reported.

“This Norse god?” he asked.

You nodded. It didn’t matter whether or not he believed you. It didn’t matter if he would be forced to send you to a madhouse or keep you in an attic. He of all people had to know his wife wasn’t abandoning him.

“Yes! I will have to be there-one week of every month! Please- I know it’s against the Bible but-lie!” you begged.

“Lie?!”

“My own parents don’t believe me! Say I have a cold! Say I’m visiting your family in the next town! Say I’m out walking! Say I’m doing some ministry work for an orphanage or something! Anything!” you insisted.

He patted your arm, smoothing it to calm you down.

“Of course…of course…”

You wondered how much he believed you. Perhaps he only half believed you. But one detail you had to confide to him. One that would land you in genuine trouble if word got out.

“l I must tell you…he did flirt with me. But…I resisted him. And should he try anything when I’m with him…I’ll fight him off…because I…”

Your eyes blinked, but you broke into a smile. His shoulders lowered.

You then grabbed his hand.

“I love you, Will. I love you. I really do. I’ll do anything for you. And I did this- I did this for you. So, you wouldn’t be alone. So, we could be married! Because I love you and I want to be your wife! It was a sacrifice I made for you-and so I promise, when I’m there, I will ignore him. I will tell him I’m a married woman and shut the door in his face! I’ll box the smug grin off him, too!”

He laughed a little and you laughed despite yourself. Then you smiled up at him and gave him a hug. He smelled the grass. He put a hand on your back to rub it lightly. Then he released the hug, taking both of your hands. How large his hands were! How many of your fingers could make up his mere thumb! How comforting!

“I love you too, Y/N. I am only glad you are well and that we can be married.”

As you both walked off, you changed the topic.

“How is the search for the Serpent?”

Bodies appeared in the grass. Some claimed a giant, magical snake was on the loose. Many said prayers and kept indoors at night. William told you he wanted to consecrate it. Mrs. Seaborne wanted scientific research. They teamed up to find the creature.

But things were quiet. As if it never happened. Some seemed to whisper about it and then ignore it to go about their lives. But the looking continued.

“Oh, very well! Tracks were found!” he recalled.

“Oh, good! You and Mrs. Seaborne make quite a team! You will be careful, should you see something, William- please! I don’t want you hurt!”

“I always am careful, my dear…the tithing will be soon. The town will come to me to give me their yearly dues and I must count them next week. You shall be there, shall you?” he asked. His curls flew in the wind.

“Yes, I shall. I am ready for those duties already. I am ready to be your wife,” you smiled as you wrapped an arm around his.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Weeks went by. Now it wasn’t just the Serpent that seemed to be only a dream. It was Loki. Perhaps you did hallucinate him. Perhaps the sickness was only a bad dream.

But one thing was a reality-your wedding to William.

Before you knew it, the day of the wedding arrived. It was a bright spring day. The sun beat down. Flowers grew and bees hummed. It felt a little warm and you noticed some flowers beginning to wilt in the vase at home. You shrugged it off- there would be new flowers in your new home where he lived.

Everyone gathered at the church for preparations. Your bridesmaids fluttered around you like pastel bubbles in their dresses of various colors. They gathered around to help you adjust your wedding corset to how you liked and fixed your hair.

Stepping into your special dress- white lace with a bustle- everyone cooed and admired you. You always thought it was pretty. Decorative and special- as a wedding should be. It had a high color buttoned up with a cloth blossom and long sleeves down to your wrists. You put on lace gloves to hide the stars.

One bridesmaid handed you a bouquet.

“I added the blue violets- those are for faithfulness! Oh! And an orange blossom! That’s for you two to have many children!

All of you began to laugh a little bit. Then your mother and Williams’ own mother stepped in, admiring all of you. Though you stood out like a drop of snow. Your mother gasped and went to hug you.

“Oh, how beautiful you look!” your mother cooed.

“Yes- won’t he be beside himself!” cried Mrs. Ransome.

“And speaking of many children…Y/N…we’ve discussed this…some, but…I have to tell you.”

She looked at the bridesmaids too, perhaps thinking of this as an extended lecture. They kept their eyes forward, but their lips were sealed tight.

She held both of your hands.

“You know what…happens between a husband and wife, Y/N,” she began.

“Yes, I do. You told me…specifics…” you nodded.

“I must tell you…it is never pleasant for the woman. But you have a duty to fulfill to your husband. It hurts the first time, and it is awkward and uncomfortable every time after…but you shall do it. William expects you to do it.”

You noticed Stella’s eyes widen. She blinked and seemed to soften her posture amid all the discomfort of the bridesmaids. Warning them of when it would be their turn to perform their own duties to their husbands. But out of all of them…Stella did not seem afraid.

“No- my worst fear would be to let him down! I shall do it, mama, I promise!” you insisted.

“Very good.”

Your mother kissed the top of your head. Several bridesmaids shivered and then went out to distract themselves and see to their own preparations. You swallowed hard in your own fear, looking down at the bouquet in your hands.

Stella ran to you, like a butterfly in her light blue bridesmaid dress. She touched your shoulder.

“Your wedding night shall all turn out well, Y/N! Don’t worry!” she consoled.

“You heard mama…it’s not going to be pleasant…” you mused.

Stella turned around to make sure no one overheard and then leaned back to you whispering.

“I heard from some of the Fishermen’s wives. I was talking to them by the ocean. And they said…they said…the act is actually nice!”

“What- nice? The marital act?!” you gasped.

Stella smiled a radiant smile that could have made a king beg for her.

“Yes- the marital act! I don’t know myself, but they said they loved doing it! That it was pleasant for them! That they wanted to do it with their husbands! And then listed all the men they wish they could do it too!”

She turned bright pink and leaned closer, softening her voice.

“And do you know who they put on their list?”

“Who? Wait…no! They didn’t say…” You began to stifle laughter.

“I’m not! They listed Will! I heard them! I kept blushing but I couldn’t help but listen! They talked about how every Sunday they wished they could sin with him!”

“Stella!”

“Their words! Not mine! See-you’re the luckiest, happiest woman in all England today! So don’t worry-it’s probably nicer than you think it is!” she continued.

“I’m still nervous thinking about it!” you confided.

“Think of it this way- you might be like those women and want it from him instead of him wanting it of you! I! So don’t worry so much! You shall be fine! You can tell me all about it later!”

She gave you a hug and you hugged back. How soft she felt-she always knew people so well that she could say the right things. Then her mother appeared at the door and asked for her. She gave you a grin and then walked away.

You were left alone. And there was time before the ceremony- your last minutes as a single woman.

You walked out of the room. Down the hall. You overheard the church organ practicing the music. The wind rustled and the sun burst through little windows. You smelled musk and old wine down here.

Today, the door for William’s office was creaked open. Glad for a moment alone, you tiptoed in there with your skirt swishing behind you. That space you would have to become far more acquainted with later. You were rarely in there and only then you were accompanied. You had forgotten what it looked like.

It was a plain room. Not too decorative- only packed bookshelves and illustrations of Jesus on the wall.

But turning, you saw a letter on the desk. You walked closer to read it. Will’s handwriting- of course, you knew it. It was dated today! Curiosity and delight rippled in you from the opening line.

“To my most beloved woman…” it began.

Oh! A love letter? On your wedding day?! How romantic! You thought. You kept reading.

“I dream of you night and day. I think only how I wish to see you. I have so much I’ve written, yet I couldn’t get the words. How I wish you never catch me staring right at you as you go about. And how I ache and long for you…”

You began to giggle despite yourself. Oh- dearest man! He was always so calm around others! Now to see him this vulnerable and sentimental! You smiled brightly.

“You are truly not like other women!”

That was an odd compliment. You felt a lump in your throat. Sometimes men said things that, though well-intentioned, were not completely thought out. Was there something…wrong with the other women? You decided to ignore it and keep reading.

“You are the one thing I long for. And you haunt and torment me so much, darling…”

You placed the letter on your heart, giving it a kiss, then read on.

“And now, the day of my wedding to Miss Y/N approaches…The day I grow from fiancée to husband. Oh, to see her dying!”

You paused. You reread it.

Her. Not you. Her. Should it be “Oh, to see you dying?” He was educated in seminary but couldn’t get the tense of his letter, right? How did his professors grade him?! Why did he do that? Was he trying to be like an author with a novel?

“How tormented I am! But my heart will long for you since the day I kissed you and danced with you, but remember…I will never stop seeing you. And I shall always be there, my sweet Cora.”

Your smile dropped. Your heart picked up. You began to read it. Then re-read it. Then read it again to make sure you were not making it up. That you read what you read.

This is a love letter…to Cora Seaborne…but I…I am his fiancée…I’m about to be his wife…so that means…that means…

You tasted bile in your mouth. You felt yourself blink and the room became dizzy. Everything spun except for the letter. You caught yourself on the chair. The letter fell from your shaking hand and you picked it up. You re-read the date- today. This morning. He was going to send it to her this morning.

Then you noticed a box under his desk. It was left open. And there were papers- papers with writing. You grabbed it and found your worst fear was true. They were letters. Letters from Cora. Love letters from Cora. All dated very recently. Beginning from the time she arrived after your betrothal.

You caught onto the chair for support. You wanted to retch onto the carpet. You wanted to faint. You wanted…wanted to run. But you couldn’t take a step. You set down the letters, back in their places. Then you caught the chair, clinging to it.

No….no, I thought…I thought he…he said he loved me…he said he was mine…said he adored me…he said. He said…

There was a knock on the door that made you jump. You put the box down where you left it. In was Mrs. Ransome.

“Ah! Y/N! There you are! We were worried you might have run away!”

You felt your jaw clench and you looked at them, quietly. She dragged you away back to the rooms where they got dressed. Though now bridesmaids and every one of your mothers was filling it up. They all began talking.

“Here- let me give you some reminders! Of course, you understand what it means to be a vicar’s wife. The immense responsibility it carries. For now, the women shall all look to you as an example and it’s one you must set!” Your mother advised.

They began to touch up your veil and dress as they spoke to you. But you passively stood, letting them talk to you. Trying to hear the words. They did not make you feel any better with distraction.

“Make sure you always sit in the front row of church every Sunday. You must always watch your words and your behavior. We know you’re a good woman and suited to this- but you must be careful now! A wrong step or word and his image and ministry are in ruin!” Mrs. Ransome advised.

“Support him no matter what and support his ministry, Y/N. Support him in his emotions without complaint. Encourage his advancements as you keep the balance between his home and family. Keep the house peaceful. Do not do anything to upset him or disturb him or the town. Be humble, Y/N, appreciating everything and demanding very little…” your mother began to speak.

So much work. So much sacrifice. So much…for nothing.

“And should you have children- you will raise them perfectly. You will make sure they do nothing that shall turn anyone against him and his ministry,” another woman advised you.

Yes, children. To lay in his bed. To do the act. Your duty. Knowing the truth. Knowing who it was he would rather do it to. Coming to him with a heart filled with love and adoration…thrown to waste.

“And do not yourself give into sins of greed, bad temperament, or jealousy!”

Jealousy, jealousy. I am a good person. I am not jealous, I am not jealous, I am not jealous of her, I’m not. I’m not. I’m good, I swear, I’m good you thought. All lies. You knew.

“And you shall always pray for his strength to overcome temptation and for him to flourish, shall you, Y/N?”

Yes. You always shall. You always did pray. But the wrong prayers. You should have prayed for his avoidance of temptation. Of his adherence to all the Ten Commandments, like the Seventh one.

And here you were about to marry a man who could not follow his own instruction. He was praised for being open-minded. Now not even that sin bothered him anymore.

The Lusty Vicar indeed.

“Could I…could I speak to Will? Before the wedding? Please…” you babbled out. But you only had half your voice.

The women all shook their heads.

“No! It’s bad luck! And it’s about to begin very shortly!” your mother refused.

Is this who you were going to marry? Who was this man? Was he a madman? Was this Will? The Will you agreed to marry? The Will of your dreams who you looked so forward to? The handsome Will? The Will who gave you his coat? The Will who said he loved you? The Will you loved?

They dragged you up before the doors of the church. You began to nervously fidget with the bouquet. Everyone got into the line in their places to enter. You broke off and turned to Stella.

“I…I have to…have to talk to you…” you began.

“Oh no- what is it? Are you nervous? Every bride is!” she smiled.

You shook your head. You felt yourself shaking, wishing you didn’t have to believe the words struggling to come out.

“It’s not that…Stella…I…I f-f-found…I found, uh-I found-uhm…”

“What did you find?” she asked.

In answer, there was loud music at the beginning of the ceremony. Her mother pushed Stella to be in place by a groomsman.

The music- so loud it could have rattled your bones and made your ears bleed-began. Then off they went. You were pushed to stand by your father.

“Oh, what a lovely day! And you look beautiful as an angel, Y/N!” he assured you.

One by one they filed. Out they went. Then it was your turn.

The white walls, wooden beams, and humble wooden chandeliers once comforted you every Sunday. The candles from the ceiling hung over you like vultures. The two rectangular windows next to each other high above the wall behind the altar watched you like the eye of a god waiting for you as the sacrifice on the altar. No number of flowers could make up for it.

People stood up and smiled. You took a few steps forward.

You glanced back at the congregation. People were smiling at you like you were something wanted and valued. Something to be treasured. When you were really a joke. A laughingstock. They were going to all laugh at you any second.

You saw plenty of women in the crowd. Other women. Other women.

It was Cora who was the special one. And you who were the “other women.” The “less than” women. The “not good” women.

Your dress was hot. It felt heavy against your skin. It was itchy against you. What on earth were you thinking picking this dress?! Once you adored and squealed and twirled it childishly in your house. Once you loved it. But now you hated it. Everything in how it felt against you like it was trapping to stifle you. The flowers In your bouquet trembled. You then saw none other than Cora herself there. her maid holding her three-year-old son. A son from her first marriage with her late husband. A marriage that was so horrible, that even after the man's death... that she robbed you of yours. It was like she opened the door for a burglar to sneak inside and shoot you. The third person in this marriage. The real beloved of Will all this time. She knew your existence and commitment and promises to William…and it didn’t stop her. She never stopped to think this would hurt you. Maybe she didn’t care. Though you were the one in white compared to her in her grey coat- she was the one crowned best of women from the one you loved most. The one you sacrificed so much for-would sacrifice so much for. You turned and saw him at the altar. Will. Resplendent in his tuxedo as always. The tuxedo you swooned over- once. His beard was trimmed for today. He was smiling. Like he was all yours.

But you knew the truth.

You found your steps slowing down so that your feet dragged against the church floors.

But then you felt every eye on you. Every eye and that included…you turned, glancing at her. Cora.

And you would never be good enough for him.

Your stomach heaved. You stared down at the floor. You were going to become sick and vomit there in the church in front of everyone. Tears welled up and you felt them pouring out of you.

You stopped your steps.

Your father nudged you, urging you to go. You refused. He tried to pull you and you jerked away. Tearing yourself free from his arm. But you kept your eyes on the floor before you. You couldn’t take another step.

You were going to fall apart right there in front of everyone. They expected a smiling, beautiful bride flouncing her way up. But that was not the image you could give them. You did not feel beautiful. You felt disgusting and hideous. If you burst into tears right, there-they would know. They would know and they would all laugh at you.

You saw the sun in the high window above the altar start to fade. Though it became cooler you wondered which would get you first-being boiled alive in your wedding gown or becoming sick.

William took a step forward; he offered up his hand.

“Y/N…” he said.

He took another step forward and on instinct, you retreated. The congregation murmured. His blue eyes widened. If you ran out of the church right now, there would be scandal and ruin. If you walked up to the altar, you would spend the rest of your days living a lie.

Help me-someone please help me. I can’t go through with this. I cannot do this. Someone, please help me, get me out of here you begged silently.

There was a crash of thunder. Out of nowhere for a bright, sunny day. The church darkened as candles blew out. People screamed- you screamed from the scare. Then they went up again and there was a wind-flower petals and ribbons flew with it, a few falling apart. People began to panic a little in their seats. A couple cried “The Serpent!” and “God protect us!”

The door flung open. Only a few candles in the church relit themselves against the dark sky.

When you turned around to see, you stopped at the sight.

Loki, smiling and adjusting a tuxedo with a frilly white blouse, was there at the doors.

“Hello, Y/N darling,” he purred.

62 notes · View notes