#household domestic duties

[saph-cyare]

Always and Forever.

Summary — Lately, Joel’s been feeling a certain way about you. All he needs is a little push from Ellie and his brother in order for him to take action.

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings: Established relationship, cursing, mainly Ellie’s potty mouth, unprotected sex, P in V.

Genre: Fluff & smut

Rating: Mature

Joel doesn’t know what it is. He has no idea what’s gotten into him, or why he can’t seem to turn his focus to anything other than you. Everything else has seemed insignificant lately. His duties around Jackson feel as though he's only going through the motions until he can return to the comfort of your shared home, and to the domestic bliss of the household, just you, Ellie and him. Even out on patrols, Joel couldn't keep his thoughts from wandering back to you. It was only Tommy that had brought Joel out of his own head, only just stopping him from setting foot into an old, rusted bear trap.

And this morning is the same. Only this time, Ellie is the one to notice. The young girl eyes Joel from across the breakfast table, the beginning of a smirk playing on her face. He's turned halfway to look over the back of his chair, his watchful gaze fixed on your figure roaming the kitchen. His eyes finally break away from you, only to be met with a sly look from Ellie, as well as her ill-timed attempt to avert her eyes and straighten out her expression.

Joel opens his mouth to say something in response to her smart look, but yet again, his attention is pulled back to you, this time setting a fragrant cup of coffee in front of him and pressing a kiss to his temple. Joel's gaze follows you as you make your way back to the kitchen before returning with two plates in your hands, setting one in front of him and the other in front of Ellie. She takes note of your missing plate and swiftly turns to look at you.

“You aren't gonna eat with us?” You offer a grateful smile to her concern, taking your hand to gently smooth her hair back. “Can't today,”you respond. “I’m helping with breakfast in the dining hall this morning. I just wanted to make you both something before I left.” You smile at the both of them. “I’ll be home soon. Promise.”You plant a kiss atop her head before moving to the entryway of your home, and Joel gets up and follows after you.

He leans up against the wall of the entryway, head tilted as he watches you put on your shoes and coat. You finally look up at him once finished, and move towards him. His hands wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You bring one hand up to his head, his eyes closing as your fingers begin to play with his curls.

“You gonna be okay without me?”

There’s a bit of teasing in your concern, but Joel only hums in response, too focused on the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair. “Don’t know,” he says. He opens his eyes to look at you. "Might just have to keep you here with me."

He moves his head to rest in your neck, placing a soft kiss over your pulse point. You let out a soft sigh at the feeling of his lips. You want to indulge in this feeling, but you know full well that if you let Joel go any further, you are not leaving the house this morning.

“Tempting,” you say. “But I promised Maria. I've got to go.” Joel only offers another hum against your skin as acknowledgment. “You sure?”

“Joel—”

You’re cut off when Joel begins to suck at a certain sensitive spot. He draws a gasp from your lips, followed by a soft moan, and you can feel him smirk against your skin. You sound divine. He wants to draw more sounds from you. He wants you to stay, wants to take you back to bed and keep you there for hours and hours. He wants to give you so much more.

But he knows it’ll have to wait.

Joel finally pulls back from your neck to look at you. Your breathing is uneven, and a warmth has now enveloped your skin. “Alright”, he says. He gives you a nod of approval, as if finally giving you permission to leave. Of course he does so after he’s gotten you all hot and bothered.

You huff out a breath. “You’re a tease, you know.”

He only shrugs. “I like giving you something to miss me by.” You give a humored scoff at his words.

This man.

Your hands move to cradle the sides of his face, and you can feel his scruff that you love so dearly beneath your fingertips. “Trust me, I’d miss you regardless.” You gently bring your lips to meet his. And when you pull away, Joel can’t help but marvel at you. This is the face of the woman he loves. You are the woman he loves. After everything that's slipped away from him, you are possibly the most precious of the few things he's gained. And you've stayed. Despite all that's been lost, you are a constant within Joel's life. He's grateful to whatever higher power there is that he has the privilege of holding you close to him. That you're his.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and then rests his forehead against yours. "You come home as soon as possible. You hear me?"

"I will." You nod against his forehead. "Always."

Joel presses one last quick kiss to your lips before opening the door for you, allowing you to step out into the fresh spring air. Joel watches you from the porch as you make your way toward the town's dining hall. You briefly turn back towards the house and give him one last little wave before continuing down the road. He returns it, along with a smile on his face before stepping back inside.

Joel makes his way back to the dining table and to his breakfast, Ellie nearly finished with hers. He sits down, ready to enjoy the meal you’ve prepared. Before he can even begin to eat though, he looks up from his plate and meets Ellie's stare once again, her expression the same as the one she'd given him earlier that morning. Joel only stares back at her in confusion.

"Hell’s going on with you this morning?”

“The fuck’s going on with you!”

“Watch your mouth—”

“You can’t even be away from her for one second. You’ve been like this all week. Actually, no, you’ve been like this for a fucking month. At least.” She raises her eyebrows at him. Joel stares at her before turning his attention to his plate. “I don’t know what your talking about.”

“Bull. Shit.”

“Ellie—“

“You might as well just marry her already, It’s about time anyway—”

Joel freezes.

He can feel is entire body go stiff. It feels as though all of his basic motor functions have left him, leaving every single muscle reduced to motionless mass. He doesn’t even know if he can offer up a response. And when he finally does, all he can muster up is a weak “What?”

Ellie throws up her hands. “I said about damn time! I love her. You definitely love her, with you being all over her all the fucking time.”

The signature smirk of hers returns to her face for the nth time this morning.

“By the way, I see her neck in the mornings, you know—”

Joel looks like he might have a heart attack, and Ellie has to resist the urge to laugh at his mortification.

“Ellie.”

“Okay, alright, listen, all I’m saying is she makes you happy. It’s obvious.” Her tone gains some seriousness now. “And I think you should ask her. It’s not like she’s going to say no. I mean, she’s been with us this long, right?”

Joel’s silent. Not out of shock, but pondering. He’s absorbed all of what Ellie said.

Marriage.

It’s a thought that hadn’t really occurred to Joel. Occasionally, for only seconds at the most, it’s entered his mind during some little moments with you. When you’ve laid your head on his chest after a long day, when you sing and dance with Ellie, when you’ve carefully, lovingly patched him up after a rough day of patrol. And during all the times that he’s felt you with his hands, his mouth, memorized every inch of your body with his own.

These things, he wouldn’t mind keeping forever.

Maybe Ellie is right. Maybe it is time—

Joel’s pulled out of his thoughts by a soft knock at the front door. He sees Ellie jolt a bit at the sound, and he extends his hand in a small action of comfort. In spite of having been in Jackson for quite some time, some of the effects of the past still remain. Though, you’ve made it better for them both.

“Easy. ’s okay” She softens at his action and gives him a nod. Carefully, Joel goes to the door, Ellie following behind him, and cracks it just wide enough to get a glimpse of who stands on the other side. Tension leaves Joel’s body when he sees a familiar face.

“Hey, brother.”

“Tommy,” Joel opens the door wide, moving to embrace him. Tommy smiles, a hand patting Joel’s back, before he extends an arm out to hug Ellie.

“What brings you over?” Joel asks.

“Maria and the little one are out at the dining hall, with your girl, I think. Thought I’d stop by, see what you were up to.”

Joel can’t help the feeling of pride he gets when he hears his brother refer to you as ‘his girl’. Joel pushes it aside as he invites Tommy further into the house, taking his coat.

Ellie returns upstairs to finish getting ready for the day as Joel leads Tommy to the couch. “You want a drink or anything?”

Tommy shakes his head at the offer, smiling. “Just coffee, if you have it.”

Joel pours Tommy a mug, and takes his own unfinished one from the dining table before joining him on the couch.

“You doing okay?”

Joel looks at his brother in slight confusion. “Yeah…why?”

“I mean, considering that you just offered me liquor at 9 A.M…” Tommy gives a small gesture of his hands to make the point. “Something on your mind?”

Joel doesn’t know whether to be grateful or to curse at the fact that his brother can read him this well.

“I just…” He pauses for a moment, thinking about how on earth he should even bring this up to his brother. Joel sighs before speaking.“How’d you know?”

Tommy turns to him. “Huh?”

“Maria.” Joel clears his throat. “How’d you know when, uh—“ Joel pauses again, but Tommy catches on quickly and offers his brother a comforting smile. “I think I just woke up one morning, and I realized that I wanted to wake up beside her for the rest of my life.”

Something within Joel clicks at Tommy’s words. He feels like that. Hell, he’s felt that way about you for longer than he can even remember. Tommy observes his brother and then speaks. “So,” he begins. “You thinking about it?” Joel is silent for a moment. “Bout what?” is all he says. He picks up his mug and drinks, making sure to avoid eye contact with Tommy.

“C’mon, Joel.”

Joel sets the mug down and sighs. “Ellie said something earlier today.”

“Kid’s smart,” Tommy says.

Joel shakes his head. “Too much for her own good.”

Tommy chuckles at him before speaking again.

“For what it’s worth; I think you should.”

Joel turns to look at him and finally makes eye contact with his brother.

“Listen, I ain’t seen you this happy since…” He trails off, but both him and Joel know what he was thinking. “She’s just changed you. Really changed you. Ever since you got together, theres just been this shift in you. I can see it. We all can. Me, Maria, hell, even Ellie, you said it yourself.” Tommy holds a soft expression on his face.

“She’s good for you, and for Ellie. She’s sweet, she’s kind, and don’t kill me for saying it, but she’s beautiful, Joel. Inside and out.”

Tommy looks Joel right in the eye.

“Do it, Joel.”

Joel absorbs Tommy’s words, and he knows that he’s right. About all of it. You have changed him, in a way that he never thought possible. After everything, Joel never thought he would feel completely physically or emotionally secure again. He never thought he would be able to have a full night of rest, without being taunted by unwanted memories and waking to an empty bed. Never thought he would be able to hold someone again, kiss someone again, touch someone again. Love someone again. But he does. He has all of these things now, because of you. And he’ll be damned if he ever loses it.

He’s going to marry you.

Joel nods at before finally speaking.

“I’m gonna do it.”

Tommy smiles widely at his brother’s words. “Well, alright then.” He pats Joel on the back as he gets up from the couch. “Vamos, hermano.”

“Where are we going?”

Tommy smiles at him.

“The metalsmith.”

The rings only took three hours each to be made; six hours that Joel spent thinking of how to ask you to spend the rest of your life with him. He had gotten two gold bands made, one for you and one for himself. To his disappointment, it wasn’t possible to add a stone to yours, but he was able to add something else.

“You feeling good about it?” Tommy asks him as they walk home from picking up the rings. Ellie walks in front of them, just out of earshot.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“When are you gonna do it?”

Joel pauses before responding. He’s already waited all this time. He doesn’t know if he can wait anymore.

“Tonight, I think.”

Tommy smiles, and Joel already knows how thrilled Tommy is. Ellie, too. When they had gone to the metalsmith, she had nearly freaked out when she had found out that Joel was in fact going to propose. But he couldn’t even blame her, she was right. It was about damn time.

The three of them stop when they make it to the front steps of the house.

“I can take Ellie tonight,” Tommy offers.

“You sure?” Joel asks. “You don’t have to do that, especially with Maria, and the little one—”

“Are you kidding? Maria would love having her over, and the baby could use someone to play with.” Tommy then slightly raises his eyebrows at Joel.

“Give you guys the house to yourselves tonight?”

Joel knows what he’s insinuating. Hesitantly, he nods. “Thank you, Tommy.”

Tommy just smiles at his brother. The three of them make their way up the steps and enter the house to find you preparing dinner in the kitchen. You turn and smile at the sight of them, greeting Tommy with a hug before giving Ellie a kiss. Joel stands, rather impatiently, waiting for his turn to have your affection.

You finally break from Ellie to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“That’s all?” He mutters.

“Well, hello to you too,” You can’t help but chuckle at his pettiness. “Are you guys hungry? Dinner’s almost ready.”

Tommy speaks up. “Actually, Ellie and I were about to head out. She’s gonna spend the night at me and Maria’s.”

You’re eyebrows raise in surprise. “Oh?” You turn to look at Joel, giving him a soft smile. “I guess it’s just me and you tonight.”

Those words make him more anxious than they should.

Once Ellie’s grabbed some clothing from upstairs, and you say goodnight to Tommy and Ellie. As Joel bids his brother good night, Tommy whispers to him as they hug.

“You’ve got this, Joel.”

God, he hopes he’s right.

The two of them leave you and Joel alone for dinner. He asks about your day, and you tell him about his little niece, what you had baked today, the town gossip you had heard from Maria. He listens intently, hanging onto your every word, and thanks the Lord that you don’t pry with questions about what he had been up to today.

You both make your way upstairs after dinner to unwind for the night. And this is when Joel begins to panic just a little. It’s getting later and later. He goes through the words in his head, thinking of what to say as he freshens up. Just before you’re about to undress and change into your sleepwear, he stops you.

“You wanna go sit on the porch with me?” He asks. “Still a nice evening.”

To his relief, you say yes.

“That sounds like a good idea,” you smile at him. “Meet you there?”

Joel nods at you. “Meet you there.”

He watches you leave the room, making your way downstairs. Joel isn’t sure what his plan is, exactly. But before he leaves to follow after you, he spots his guitar leaned against the bedroom wall. He grabs it, and brings it with him.

When he walks out, he turns to see you already seated on the porch swing. You sit up at the sight of him, guitar in hand, and can’t help but smile at the sight.

“You’re gonna play me something?”

He smiles, gives you a small one shoulder shrug before sitting beside you. “It’s been a while. Thought maybe you would like it.”

“You were right.”

He turns to look at you, smiling softly. He positions his guitar in his lap, left hand holding the neck, hovering about the frets.

“Anything requests?”

You shake your head. “Surprise me.”

Joel knows exactly what to play for you.

He begins to strum the opening notes of the song, fingers moving effortlessly against the frets. His voice is deep and rich as he sings. He’s so completely immersed in the moment, eyes closed, trusting his fingers and voice to do all the work.

When he’s finished singing, he turns to look at you, and it’s evident that he’s searching for your reaction, your approval. You smile softly at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to make me fall in love with you again.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “So it worked then?”

You gently brush his shoulder with yours, chuckling at him. He doesn’t think he could ever tire of that sound. Right now, in this moment, Joel thinks you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. The sinking sun paints your face lilac and deep blue, making your skin glow. And he knows it’s time.

“I uh—”

He stops abruptly, causing you to look up at him. His eyes are cast down, nervously fixed on the wood of his guitar.

“I’ve been thinking, and I just…” He trails off again. Your expression morphs into one of concern.

“Joel?”

He doesn’t respond. He simply begins to remove his guitar from his lap and allowing it to take his spot before moving off of the swing.

And he’s on one knee.

His hand travels behind his back and into his rear pocket to retreive a small leather box.

Suddenly all the air is gone from your lungs. It’s only the sound of Joel clearing his throat that forces you to snap out of your shock.

“Haven’t always the best at communicating. But, you probably already know that better than most.”

His words draw a choked laugh from your lips, and Joel’s finally drawn out of his nerves. He brings his gaze to meet the sight of your eyes, your soft smile, and it takes everything in him to not break right then and there.

No amount of recitation was preparation enough for this moment. He tries to find his words, speaking slowly.

“It hasn’t been easy. I know that. But you were patient. Always so damn patient with me.” He pauses. “You opened me up a little more. I uh…” Joel stops. Screw the words, whatever he had planned on saying before. He just wanted to let this moment be.

Joel opens up the box to reveal the ring, and you think you feel your heart stop beating.

“It’s just uh—it’s just gold. I wasn’t able to add a diamond or anything.” You almost want to laugh out of disbelief. He’s apologetic about it, but you could not even care less. The fact that he’s kneeling for you, ring in hand, the fact that Joel wants to be your husband, that he wants you to be his wife; that is more than enough. More than you could have ever dreamed. But there’s more.

“It isn’t much or anything, but if you look on the inner side of the ring…” His voice trails off. Curious, you look closer at the ring slightly to see a cursive engraving in the gold.

‘Always and Forever - J.’

If you weren’t crying before, you sure as hell are now.

Tears in your eyes well up as Joel says your name, and the quiver in his voice tells you there might be some in his own as well.

“I want you with me, always. It took me too damn long to realize. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t mine—I don’t even wanna think about it. All I know is that I need you. For the rest of my life, I need you. I need to have you with me. I need to be the only one to fall asleep next to you, the only one to wake up next to you. I want you, need you, always, for the rest of my life. Please; will you let me have you?”

He pauses and swallows hard, before finally summoning the words. Those words.

“Will you marry me?”

Your words are caught in your throat. Joel’s eyebrows are knitted tightly, nervously awaiting a response, something, anything from you.

But no words come.

You lower yourself off of the swing, mirroring Joel and kneeling onto the wood of the porch, facing him.

You have no words to speak; you only bring your hands to cradle the sides of his face, and softly connect your lips with his.

Joel’s kissed you countless times before, just as you’ve kissed him. But never has a kiss between the two of you felt like this. Never this tender. Never with this much pure, raw emotion behind it.

When you pull away, you rest your forehead against his gently. You softly nod.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice shaky.

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Joel isn’t breathing. He gently pulls away to look at you, and for a moment it’s completely silent, save for the soft sound of the crickets in the night. And then it’s hits him.

Yes. You said yes.

Joel huffs out a breathless laugh, followed by one of your own. Tears that he hadn’t been aware of begin to fall, trailing down his cheeks as he goes to kiss you again, his lips colliding with yours. When you pull away, you both can’t help but laugh again, perhaps just out of the sheer disbelief or joy. Joel realizes that the open leather box still sits in his lap. He exhales deeply before removing the ring from the velvet of the box and holding it out towards you.

“Here,” his voice is heavy as he offers his other hand out to you. “Let me.”

You place your left hand in his, and he slips the band onto your finger ever so gently. The fit is perfect, and the gold shines under the warm glow of the porch lamp.

Joel intertwines your fingers with his as he kisses you again. It’s deeper, there’s a passion lying behind it that wasn’t there before. Joel’s tongue swipes against your bottom lip, a small tease before he pulls away. You nearly whine at the loss, but Joel stands up, offering you his hand. You understand instantly, eager to be back inside of your home.

He grabs the neck of his guitar from the porch swing before pulling you both inside, kicking the front door shut behind him. He leans the guitar next to the doorframe before turning back to you, guiding you up the stairs and into your bedroom.

As soon as the door shuts, Joel’s wastes no time kissing you again deeply, trying to savor the feeling of his lips on yours. He bites your bottom lip and he nearly wants to smirk at the little gasp that escapes you. His hands wrap around around your waist, holding you flush against him as he begins to kiss down your jaw. He dips lower, nipping at your pulse before soothing it with his tongue. You let out a pleasured sigh at the feeling of his lips on you. He knows you’re eager, and so is he, but he’s taking a different approach tonight.

He wants to show you how he feels for you, beyond words. He needs to.

His hands come to the hem of your shirt, lifting the edge slightly. He pulls away, his deep brown eyes looking into yours.

“Can I take this off you, sweetheart?”

You nod your head eagerly, allowing him to undress you. He removes your shirt and bra, tossing them aside. He allows himself to take in the sight of you for just a moment, before moving to the waistband of your bottoms and removing them as well.

“Lie down for me.”

It doesn’t take much for you to comply, coming to rest on the bed. Joel undresses in front of you, removing his shirt to reveal his soft body, dark hair starting from his navel, and trailing down, below the waistline of his jeans. You swallow hard at the sight, before he joins you on the bed. He hovers above you, one sturdy forearm holding himself up as his other hand gently brushes your hair back. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips before moving back down to your neck once more.

Joel lips trail down past your collar bone and to your chest, beginning to nip and suck at the sensitive flesh. He leaves dark love marks littered against your skin, languidly kissing his way down your belly until his lips stop just at the waistband of your panties.

“Lift your hips for me, baby.”

Your breath hitches and you can feel a warmth within you beginning to bloom at his words. You do as he says, allowing him to slip the fabric down your legs before discarding it on the floor. He looks down at you hungrily, pupils dilated and lips parted as he hooks his arms beneath your legs, settling between your thighs. He nearly groans at the sight of you completely exposed for him, and he can feel himself growing harder, straining in his jeans. “All mine,” he whispers, mouth hovering just over your center. “You’re all mine.” You can feel the heat of his breath against your wetness and you need him.

“Joel, please—”

He cuts you off with a long swipe of his tongue, drawing a gasp from you. He continues his movements, applying pressure to your clit with each lap of his tongue. He braces your legs with his arms, pulling you closer to him. He does not even give you a chance to open your mouth as he takes your clit fully into his mouth, beginning to suck. A moan falls from your lips, and he smirks into your pussy at the sound, continuing to devour you. It’s not long before you feel a finger teasing your entrance. Joel looks up at you, eyes asking for permission. You give him a pleading look, and he knows it’s all the permission he needs.

Joel slides slowly slides in his middle finger, before adding another. You can’t help but gasp at the feeling, his fingers thick and long inside you. He curls his fingers inside of you, pressing against a spot that has you arching your back for him. He accompanies the movement of his fingers with his tongue, lapping at your clit fervently.

You can feel the heat within your lower belly increasing by the second. The combination of his tongue and his fingers inside you bring you closer and closer to the edge. Joel can feel you tightening around his fingers and he knows he’s nearly got you where he wants you.

He focuses in on the sound of your little pants and moans of his name, drinking in your sounds as he speeds up his movements.

Your hand comes to meet his head, fingers threading through his curls and tugging lightly. He groans into you at the slight pull, and the vibration is all you need to finally be sent over the edge, and he takes it all, swallowing, wanting to savor your taste.

Your chest heaves as you perch yourself up on your elbows, coming down from your high. Joel presses a kiss to your thigh, smiling softly at you. Despite the numbness in your legs, you sit up on the bed. Still between your legs, Joel stands from his kneeling position at the foot of the bed and leans down to kiss you. You sigh into the kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. Your hand trails down to the waistband of his pants, eager to pleasure him, to give him something in return, when he stops you, his hand grasping your wrist gently. He shakes his head, smiling softly at your eagerness.

“Not tonight,” he says. Any protest you might have had is silenced as he presses a kiss to your neck, gently pushing you to lay back further on the bed. “Wanna take my time with you,” he speaks in between kisses to your skin. “Wanna make you feel good. You gonna let me make you feel good?”

You nod your head. “Yes. Please, Joel.”

He sits up quickly on his knees, his eyes fixed on yours as he undoes his belt, letting his jeans fall before finally removing his boxers. His arousal is evident, the head of his cock wet with pre-cum.

Joel leans down to be on top of you, bringing himself to your entrance, running the head of his cock gently against your slit before pushing the tip in slowly

“Joel,” you gasp at the feeling, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ve got you, baby.” He rests his forehead against yours as he pushes in deeper, letting out a deep groan when he finally bottoms out inside you. He’s a stretch, but he gives you a moment to adjust to his girth. “You alright?” He asks. You nod, giving him the go ahead to move.

Joel pulls his hips back slightly before his hips meet yours, giving you the first thrust, slow and deep. You both let out a groan at the feeling and Joel gives you another, drawing a sweet whine from your lips.

He sets the perfect pace, strokes long and hard inside you. With each thrust of his hips, his cock hits that spot that nearly makes you tremble. Joel groans into your shoulder, nearly losing himself in the way you feel around him. He moves his forehead from yours to get a good look at you, and gosh, you’re a sight. Your eyebrows knit together, lips parted as little moans escape you from each thrust of his hips against yours. He kisses you with reckless abandon, swallowing your moans with his lips as he thrusts, strokes hitting deeper.

“All mine. You’re all mine, you hear me?”

You nod, overwhelmed by his words and each spearing movement of his cock inside of you.

“Yours,” you breathe out. “I’m all yours, Joel.”

Joel groans at your words, his thrusts growing deeper and harder, and that familiar feeling in your core returns, intensifying at each thrust. You squeeze around him, and he brings his hand to intertwine with yours, just above your head. You’re close to nearing your peak, breath growing more ragged and your moans turning to whimpers. The knot in your core is about to come undone and Joel can feel it, close behind you.

“Come on my cock baby, let me feel you. I’ve got you.”

With one last hard thrust, you come undone around him, crying out his name. “Atta girl,” he whispers against your skin just before reaching his own release, moaning into your ear as he fills you up. “That’s my good girl.”

He rests on top of you for a moment, panting into your neck before carefully unsheathing himself from you, and laying at your side.

You take in the sight of him, silver curls damp on his forehead with perspiration, his chest rising and falling. You steady your breath before speaking.

“When—?” You hesitate, unsure of how to broach the topic. Joel lifts his head to look at you. “When what?”

You draw in a breath.

“The wedding,” It’s the first time you say it out loud. You’re marrying Joel. Your Joel. All of the dry wit, all of the Southern charm. Every part of him is yours. “When did you want-”

“Yesterday.”

You laugh at him and he only smiles at you, both knowing that his eagerness is shared. He presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose. “As soon as possible. Whenever you want.”

Joel brings your closer into his arms, holding you tight.

“Gonna take care of you.” Joel lays a kiss on your forehead, so light, you barely register it in your blissed out daze.

He presses another kiss to your hair. “Gonna keep you safe.”

Your lips curve into a soft smile before planting a kiss to Joel’s neck.

“I know.”

You’ve never been more certain of anything in your life.

Author’s Note 📝🪶 : Hi :) This is my first time writing so if you made it here, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller #the last of us x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff

[littlemissayu]

TWST Boys as ✨ PARENTS✨(Part 1)

TW: kids, pregnancy, reader is depicted as female, domestic, fluff

ft. :Heartsabyul, Savanaclaw | pt.2 ; ft. Octavinelle & Scarabia | pt.3; ft.Pomefiore, Ignhihyde | pt. 4; ft.Diasomnia

Riddle Rosehearts-

This man only has 1 kid, maybe 2 but that's kinda pushing it. I think he would be so worried about messing up his child the way his mother messed him up. He'd be strict yet dotting on his children; like he'll make sure their homework is done by a reasonable time and then praise them for doing really well on an assignment, especially if it's a subject they genuinely struggle with. If I'd say a boy dad or girl dad honestly, I think it could go either way, but I'm leaning towards boy dad.

Trey Clover-

I heavily believe he will have a big family anywhere from 4 - 7 kids. And these kids are absolutely close in age because I know the two of you are gonna get very busy, it feels like you're always pregnant with other people. Just imagine Trey with a mini him (or you) helping him crack the eggs in a bowl while they're wearing matching aprons <3. He would be a gentle parent but would put his foot down went he needed to. When it comes to girl dad or boy dad I can only think both!!

Cater Diamond-

At first he wasn't sure he wanted kids bc kids are a lot to take care of, but after the two of you being together and going through so much. He realizes deep down he did want to start a family with you. He would probably want only one or two but your first pregnancy you end up with triples; then you two said that's it until you got pregnant again with twins!!(My headcanon that Cater's special magic makes it more likely to have twins, triplets, etc come for here!!). It wasn't what the two of you anticipated but you couldn't be happier

Your pair of triplets ended up being 2 girls and a boy, then your twins were girls. He's a very fun dad always staying on top of the trends and slang. He has a hard time laying down the law with his kids sometimes, so you have to do it most of the time but when he really has to he does. *Bonus: You guys have 4 family photo shoots a year, and multiple photo albums*

Ace Trappola-

He probably has 3-5 kids, but from time to time it feels like you have 4-6 kids. He's always getting into trouble with them, playing pranks on you and others, even each other. There is no quiet in your household, it doesn't exist til everyone's asleep. Your kids are the most playful and competitive children you've ever seen, but they know to dial it back from time to time; Ace told them "When your mom says it once, she might be joking, if she says it twice she more likely serious so listen, if you make it to three....your the only name going on that tombstone". You guys are the most chaotic adorable family ever.

Deuce Spade-

He has 3 kids and not a single one of them is male, bc this man is %100 a GIRL DAD!! At first he was nervous about messing her up but after your first girl turned 3 and your second is 1, he couldn't imagine having a boy. He is the most proud girl dad you'll ever see. Is so protective of his amazing girls(that includes you btw), would fight off mosquito if it bit one his girls, no matter have stupid he looks. Spoils his little girls in any way he can, luckily you're there to make sure their not TOO spoiled.

Leona Kingscholar-

This man has 2 children and always makes sure one never feels less than the other. He knows what it's like to be stuck in your siblings shadow so he tries to make sure that never happens to his kids. While he won't always be present since he is still part of the royal family and therefore will have certain royal duties to fulfill; he will always do his best to be there for his kids. He does sleep less then he did before since his life is busier, but he always makes sure to take a nap everyday so when he's with his wife and kids he'll be able to be in a better mode to see his beautiful family. He would have one girl and one boy.

Ruggie Bucchi-

3-8 kids. His kids are the rowdiest, sneakiest kids you've ever seen. Although most of the time they're super sweet(to you). The first time you two talked about kids you agreed on only 2, but after having your first 2 rascals. You two got some more baby fever and ended up having only a few more. You did have a good paying job so you could take care of your little pack of children. The Bucchi household never has a boring day because there is always something really exciting or crazy that is happening. Overall he has more girls than he does boys. You first daughter stays a daddy's girl <3, but dw he loves all his kids equally!

Jack Howl-

4 kids, an even amount. He isn't the most expressive Dad but his kids can tell how he feels based on body language and physical acts. While to others it may seem as if he couldn't care less about his kids, it is the complete opposite. Always making sure their ok, celebrating their accomplishments, and always encouraging them to do what they love. His kids can tell through these small acts that he loves them. Your husband loves to take early morning runs, ofc but when your kids are babies he would take them in their stroller so they can get some fresh air to get them in a good mood. He does that so that maybe if their baby is in a better mood you won't have to much stress when trying to figure out what they need; it makes both of your lives easier. At first the two of you though you'd only have boys bc of your first 3 but then low and behold, your last kid was a baby girl<3!!

Heartsabyul Masterlist

Savanaclaw Masterlist

TWST Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #fluff #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover #trey clover x reader #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader #ace trapolla #ace trapolla x reader #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi x reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #domestic #babies #tw babies

[montheline]

The Houses 101✨

What the houses represent in astrology 💁🏾‍♀️

🧘🏾‍♀️1st House: Self expression, outward appearance, the physical body, identity. beginnings/start of things, personal image, first impressions, ego, mind, personality, how we project ourselves to the world, early life/childhood, how you approach your environment

💸🛍2nd House: Personal finances, money/income, managing our money, material things, earthly things, personal possessions, personal values. self worth, material desires, lending & bowering things, earthly pleasures, food, clothes, security, ethics, self-esteem, luxury, personal resources, human needs, wealth, bills, abundance, gifts, stability, indulgence & spending & saving

🗣🏘3rd House: Your mind, intellect, how you receive information, thinking, talking, perception, communication, speaking, neighbors, cars/vehicles, siblings, cousins, language, technology, transportation, data processing, phones, writing, reading, mental connections, social media, networking, our environments, short trips, people, banter, small talk, platonic relationships, coworkers, collaboration, cooperation, mobility, early education (pre-school-high school), marketing & ideas

🏡😌4th House: Home, stability, family, comfort, our roots, ancestry, heritage, parents (really the mom), history, traditions, youth, old age, origins, resting place, generations, safety, emotional security, caretakers, shelter, food, self-care, childhood wounds, domesticity, privacy, household & relaxation

🪄🎡5th House: Pleasure, entertainment, romance, fun, play, casual things, flings, youth, hobbies, activities, gambling, art, partying, creativity, addictions, fertility, children(specifically the first child), casual sex, flirting, dating, motivation, imagination, celebrations, spontaneity, life expressions, holidays, pride, performing, confidence, risks, attention & creative projects

❤️‍🩹🧺6th House: Daily routines, health, hygiene, physical body, work, daily tasks, chores, service, vitality, healing, pets, duty, volunteering, schedules, school, recovery, medicine, animals, sleep, tolerance, resilience, illness, cleanliness, crises, diet, fitness, responsibilities, structure, good & bad habits, productivity, wellness, work ethic, self-improvement, workplaces, errands, to-do lists, exercise, self-care, mental health, immune system, work enemies & injuries

💍🧑‍🤝‍🧑7th House: Partnerships, marriage, long-term relationships, marriage contracts, business partners, enemies, legal contracts, romantic relationships, maternal grandparents, love, harmony, peace, cooperation, agreements, legalities, companionship, divorce, lawsuits, long-term commitment, unions, alliances, conflicts, justice & fairness

🥀🎱8th House: Secrets, transformation, death, sex, rebirth, change, new phases, inheritance, taxes, shared resources, insurance, intimacy, sexuality, rituals, spouse’s money, occult, magic, fears, things we like to keep hidden/to ourselves, the past, obsession, rage, revenge, “unspoken” things, pain, mystery, privacy, power & power struggles, deep connections, emotional intensity, addictions, trauma, abuse, passion, experiences, deepest desires, possessiveness, accidents, depth, taboos, grief & loss

🧐🗺9th House: Spirituality, religion, purpose, travel (especially long distance), higher learning, beliefs, academics, law, wisdom, education, entrepreneurship, systems, morals, ethics, schools/college, moving, future, higher thoughts, interactions & relations with foreigners, distant relatives & cultures

💼👩🏾‍💼 10th House: Reputations, careers, public image, social status, aspirations, goals, career achievements/success, authorities, discipline, hard work, leadership, power, influence, public eye/public relations, working & public persona

👥📱11th House: Community, friendships, groups, clubs, ideals, hope, volunteering, companions, wishes, charity, adopted children/step-children, humanitarian work, society, humanity, teamwork, social circles, personal aspirations, social media, networking, innovation, activism, technology, equity, rebellion, originality,  liberation, futurism & allies 

🛌💭12th House: Dreams, endings, the subconscious, secrets, addictions, intuition, our instincts, “unseen realm”/the underworld, shadow self, imagination, afterlife, things that are hidden, healing, secret enemies, fears, fantasies, sleep, hidden activities, illegal work, self-undoing, spirituality, misfortune, isolation, sorrow, retreat & surrender

© 2022 montheline. All rights reserved.

#astrology #astro community #montheline #astro tumblr #astrology notes #random astro #astrology for beginners #astro #astro notes #1st house #2nd house #3rd house #4th house #5th house #6th house #7th house #8th house #9th house #10th house #11th house #12th house

[atinystraynstay]

7PM - Boo Seungkwan

Synopsis: 7pm was always your favorite time of day. There was no longer a concern over deadlines and meetings. You get to slip out of your high heels and replace them with your favorite pair of fuzzy socks. The best part is when you get to debrief the day with your boyfriend, Seungkwan.

Pairing: Boo Seungkwan x reader

Genre: Established relationship, fluff, domesticated life with Seungkwan so you know you're going to be pampered like a queen

Word Count: 1.7k

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

After unlocking the front door, you pushed it open. The smell of your home always makes you feel relaxed. You couldn't quite describe the scent. It just smelled so good that your body was filled with nothing but warmth and contentment. All your worries from the workday were left outside the moment you stepped in.

You hooked your keys on the key holder. Your set was the only pair hanging which made you frown slightly. You were hoping Seungkwan had made it home from work a tad bit early, so you could see him sooner. However, seeing as it was already 6:50pm, you knew that he would arrive shortly.

An audible sigh left your lips as you slipped out of your high heels. Your feet screamed out in appreciation at feeling the floor beneath you. Even hardwood flooring was preferable to wearing high heels all day.

Finally being at home, you began to maneuver through your shared home. You smiled at the wall lined up with photos of not just you and Seungkwan over the years, but photos with family and friends. It's been a while since your home was filled with people. Maybe you two could throw a party soon? You dropped your purse on the couch before beginning to head towards the kitchen.

Seungkwan never placed expectations on you when it comes to household duties. His sisters and mother definitely raised him well in that regard. He much preferred splitting responsibilities equally, but always opting for the heavier duty stuff. And even if he couldn't do it on his own, he basically had a whole artillery of friends ready to call up.

Yet, you took joy in cooking for him. You always saw it as an act of love by cooking him a warm-cooked meal. Especially now that winter is starting to settle in, there was nothing better in your opinion than a dinner prepared by your significant other. Plus, it allowed you to shower him with affection sooner if you at least got started before you got home.

What was in the fridge?

With end-of-the-year projects, meetings, and requests - you and Seungkwan felt like you were being pulled at different ends. When you had a late night, it seemed like he was able to get off early, or vice versa. Most of the reaction over the past couple of days has resulted in groggy 'good mornings' and sleepy 'goodnight' kisses.

When the weekend comes, you both were unfortunately stuck putting in overtime at your respective jobs. It was rare over the past couple of days for you two to actually have an sat-down meal. That also meant that it has been a while since the two of you made a proper grocery store run rather than picking up instant ramen to make at home.

Let's see what I can come up with. Your hands reached behind you to put your hair in a low, messy bun. Your fingers gently grasped onto the handle of the fridge, opening it.

Your eyes scanned every shelf, every corner of the fridge. The two of you didn't have much besides every condiment you could think of, a few tangerines, and a carton of milk you questioned if it was still good to drink. It really has been a while.

"What am I going to do?" You murmured to yourself. There was nothing even salvageable to make a meal. You didn't even want it to be the best meal you've ever made. What you wanted was at least to do something nice for your Seungkwan.

"Honey? I'm home."

Speaking of which. A smile curled onto your lips at the sound of Seungkwan returning home. God, you've wanted to be in his arms all day since the moment you had to get up for work.

"In the kitchen!" You called back. Admitting defeat, you closed the refrigerator door.

From the other side of the house, you could hear shuffling. You knew Seungkwan was taking off his jacket and setting his keys, hearing the familiar jingle. Who knew something so simple as keys making noise could be the best sound in the world.

The movement from the front of the apartment made its way closer to you. Knowing that Seungkwan was home just filled your heart with happiness, with comfort. He has been a source of refuge, of unconditional love for you.

Once you heard the footsteps turn around, you looked over to see Seungkwan by the threshold of the kitchen. "There's my girl," he murmured. He immediately opened his arms for you. You could never turn a hug down from him. This time, you were the one shuffling along to reach him as quickly as possible.

Your arms immediately wrapped around his torso. You squeezed his body, almost reassuring yourself that your boyfriend had fully arrived home. He smiled at the sentiment but also was concerned. You normally welcome him home with a kiss before nestling yourself against you. Only on the rough days did you find yourself like this, just seeing the comfort of his hugs.

Seungkwan didn't hesitate. His arms found themselves around you. He felt release a soft sigh into his neck. Oh, today was a bad day.

His arms ran up and down your back affectionately, just holding you close. "Do you want to talk about it, honey?" You shook your head. He knew better than press you too hard. When you were ready, you would fill him in. For now, if this is all you needed, then that's what you got.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your head before dropping his lips to hover over your ear. "I brought takeout home," he whispered.

You never removed yourself from him so fast. You spun around, but stood right in front of you. Seungkwan chuckled as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. Seeing the happiness wash of your face is all Seungkwan needed. "God, you're really the love of my life." You turned back to face Seungkwan. Your hands cupped his cheeks, gazing up into your eyes. "I just looked in the fridge to see we didn't have much to eat, so I wasn't sure what we were going to do for dinner." "Well have no fear, sweet girl. Your dinner has arrived," he winked.

You giggled at his antics. You eased up onto your tiptoes, planting a lingering kiss on his lips. His hands moved from your lower back to his side. He hummed lightly against your lips as he allowed his hands to rest on your hips.

"Go get settled, honey. The food is already in the living room. I figured we could watch a movie tonight? I can also open that bottle of red wine we bought ages ago."

He spoke your love language.

You nodded your head eagerly, giving him one last hug. Before you could detach yourself from him fully, you allowed your lips to press kisses into his skin. He started blushing profusely, almost trying to hide his face in your shoulder. Your giggles against his skin vibrated throughout his whole body. He was so in love with you.

"Baby please," he whined. "Alright, alright. I'll go!"

You were fully detached to migrate towards the food awaiting the two of you. He watched as you walked away, the smile unable to be wiped from his face. How did he get so lucky to be in this life with you?

He worked quickly to fetch the wine bottle chilling in the fridge. Seungkwan's perceptions of love were framed around the love he witnessed from his parents. He never believed he would get lucky enough to be blessed with such a love, but then you came along.

With the trusted wine opener, he was able to uncork the wine bottle rather quickly. The soft pop sounded in the air. He was surprised you didn't come running at the sound, but it made him happy knowing you were relaxing.

From the moment he walked into the apartment, he could sense you weren't in the best mood. Maybe it was the indicator of your heels just thrown on the floor, or the way you didn't really hang up your jacket. He hated the fact he wasn't hear to mend your aching body sooner.

Carefully, he poured the wine into the wine glasses that he pulled from the cabinet. Once he saw it was filled to your preference level, he put the metal bottle topper in the bottle to keep it fresh. He also put the bottle back in the fridge, knowing you preferred it chilled. Tonight was all about bringing you comfort.

Grabbing the stems of the glasses, he began making his way back to you. His footsteps were light, so as to not startle you. You did have a tendency to fall asleep anywhere, and assuming you had been on your feet all day, he left nothing up to chance.

However, he saw you on the couch with your legs criss-crossed. You had left a spot open for him. What made his heart swell in the way you were already looking in his direction expectingly.

"Here you go, honey." He passed over the wine glass to you, which you happily accepted. "Why don't you go ahead and get started eating?" "I was waiting for you," you responded. You leaned over to kiss his cheek lingeringly once he settled in next to you. You pulled back to take a sip out of your wine before setting it down on the coaster on the coffee table. Not wasting anymore time, you bega opened up the white takeout bag to reveal the containers.

All the while, Seungkwan sat back and watched you. It made him feel prideful knowing he knew the way to help you at your lowest moments. He always admitted your independence and your willingness to put others before yourself, but he ultimately wanted to the the one to replenish your kind heart.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder once you discovered your takeout box. You began to eat as he leaned over, kissing the top of your head.

7pm was easily his favorite time of day. It was when he came back to you, that he could make sure you were happy even after the worst of days. It was when he was able to shower you with the love he couldn't do throughout the day.

7pm was when the rest of the world didn't matter because he was by your side.

#Boo Seungkwan #boo seungkwan x reader #boo seungkwan fluff #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan #svt #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan scenarios #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan fic #seungkwan x y/n #seungkwan x you #seventeen #seventeen seungkwan #svt seungkwan #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fanfic #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt imagines

[ryutaria]

Tears and Hearts

Synopsis: With Al Haitham by (Y/N)'s side, she would never have to navigate parenthood all alone...Not when his daughter loved his comfort...

Word Count: 3.5k+

Tags: alhaitham x f! reader, comfort, postpartum depression, sfw, Acting Grand Sage Al Haitham, married life, domestic comfort, a teeny tiny CyoNari, father! Al Haitham, parenthood.

A/N: Comfort because we need it.

A prevalent serenity prevailed over the city as the stars twinkled in the distant skies, faint balls of luminance enchanting to the onlookers' eyes. Darkness had engulfed the world just a few hours ago: rendering the mortal beings to seek solace in the street lamps and artificial mechanisms of luminance invented by the research scholars a long time ago. However, as the sands of the hourglass trickled down the ampule, the city dwellers began to retire to their own residences rendering the streets isolated albeit a few birds who could only hoot freely when the world was at peace yet again.

This was only a natural routine for the world, the moon chased the sun yet they never met unless the eclipse aligned them. However, (Y/N) found her calmness in these small things. The little things in everyday life that are taken for granted by so many... and appreciated by only a few. These things seldom mattered for researchers and scholars of the Akademiya, but as a decorated Professor of Rtawahist Darshan, (Y/N) understood the difference between living and surviving... existence. Moving away from the windowsill of her husband's study, her eyes trailed towards the clock on the mantelpiece: a pretty little vintage clock in the form of an hourglass.

12:17 - read the clock.

(Y/N) smiled as she remembered Kaveh who had gifted it on her second anniversary

"It's so pretty Kaveh!" (Y/N0 exclaimed as she hugged the piece closer to her heart much to the dismay of her husband.

"I got it from one of my expeditions in the desert you know. It -"

"It's just a time tracker (Y/N)." And there goes her husband, the ever logical and very rational Al Haitham as he huffed at Kaveh.

And that was the beginning of another teenage quarrel between the two and she couldn't help but giggle. Time sure flied... Here she was now: Married to Al Haitham for five years as she wore the Nagadus emerald studded platinum loop proudly on her ring finger. Recently there had been another addition to their household, a miniature Al Haitham although a girl child who had turned two months old just a week ago. Another reason why she couldn't resume her scholarly duties yet for the newborn needed attention and care and even when Al Haitham had insisted to help she had told him not to worry for (Y/N) was confident she could handle their little one alone.

"But aşkım I could help" Al Haitham said as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear tracing her cheek.

"I'll be fine 'Haitham..." (Y/N) called endearingly as she slowly engulfed his larger hands in her much smaller ones.

However, little by little, all the chores were making her stressed and anxious, the post partum depression in full effect. (Y/N) had been a good mother of course but all the tiredness of household chores and looking after the newborn who wouldn't calm down unless Al Haitham held her was making her all the more agitated. If he was busy or not available she would have to resort to talking to her about Al Haitham's adventures and past shenanigans. Another reason why she was awake in the dead of the night when all the citizens of Sumeru had hit the hay for the day...

The postpartum depression only further added onto her stress for her hormones wouldn't remain stable no matter how much she tried. (Y/N) had asked Tighnari for the medicinal herbs to control them of course but...

"Only if it's very urgent okay, or I am telling Al Haitham what you've been doing" Tighnari scolded, his ears twitching in frustration as he thrusted the herbs in her hand. "They're harmful in the long run you know" he added, concern clear in his eyes.

"Thank you 'Nari... I'll tell him eventually..."

"You said that last time too" Cyno peeked up behind Tighnari, bed hair and a cup of coffee in his hand. This made (Y/N)'s and Tighnari's eyes widen as he quickly turned away from his lover to glare at (Y/N).

"You were WHAT?!" And (Y/N) giggled awkwardly as she sighed.

"That's it! I'm telling the sage what his wife has been doing behind his back!" Tighnari said marching towards his home before (Y/N) grabbed his arm.

With empty promises and white lies she still managed to convince the Chief Forest Ranger to keep his lips sealed, glaring at Cyno when he wasn't looking. The Mahamatra who had been quietly observing the exchange from behind lover slowly giggled as he started to move inside before-

"Only THIS time! You hear me? And WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING HUH? YOU DARE GIVE OFF HERBS JUST BECAUSE I TAUGHT YOU ?!" and Cyno was quick to retreat inside the house with Tighnari hot on his heels.

And (Y/N) was sighed in relief as she made her way towards her home praying to the Archons that her daughter would still be asleep at Nilou's.

However, she wouldn't tell this to Al Haitham for (Y/N) knew how taxing his life had recently become. What with the overthrowing of Azar, the restoration of Lesser Lord Kusanali and Al Haitham being promoted to the rank of Acting Grand Sage was already hectic enough for him. Nilou was only aware how many evenings, (Y/N) had broken down and cried on her visits to the Haitham household.

"Just tell him (Y/N), it would be much better that way " the red-head consoled (Y/N) as she stroked her hair to comfort her.

(Y/N) pulled away a little as she shook her head in the negative, wiping away her tears as she hiccupped a little.

"Can't" she chocked. "Can't add onto his stress Nilou" and she broke down again as her friend hugged her again - closely as her shoulders shook with her hiccups. "Don't...wanna...be...burdensome"

And Nilou felt defeated. Only then she wished that her dearest friend would break down in front Al Haitham just so he could know what she was going through. Al Haitham needed to know this no matter how carefully (Y/N) hid the stress behind her eyes.

She slowly made her way to the nursery to find her daughter asleep and she sighed in relief. Maybe she wouldn't need the herbs anymore, after all she had run out of supplies just a day ago. The little emerald on her daughter's chest glimmered in the moonlight as she breathed in peace and that was enough solace for (Y/N), unaware of the turmoil that was waiting to erupt again.

Al Haitham had come home just two hours ago, his voice devoid of any life as he greeted her and she knew that the Acting Grand Sage was tired. She took the off-coat off his tired shoulders as he slowly entered the kitchen for she insisted him not to go to bed on an empty stomach.

"It's not healthy 'Haitham..." she had called as she kissed his cheek lovingly. Nevertheless, she felt a little guilty on the inside, for what she was doing wasn't healthy either..."Just a little, yeah?" and he had leaned further into her touch as he nuzzled his nose in her palm.

"Only if you feed me, aşkım..." and she smiled as he told her how tiring it was to be the Grand Sage.

"Acting Grand Sage" he had corrected (Y/N) and she laughed as she fed him another bite of the meat stew. And then he had retired to bed, too tired to turn off the lamps and she had sighed before kissing him 'Good Night' as she put out the light.

(Y/N) had just gotten done with all the chores: the laundry, the dishes - a little crying as she hurried off to feed their daughter- putting out clothes in the backyard for she had faith they would be dry by the morning (It had been a little windy all day),dusting through Al Haitham's study: a weekend ritual for it was Friday. After admiring the night view from the window in her husband's study she had walked to the nursery to make sure her daughter was still asleep, sighing in relief for she still was... breathing in calmness with her (E/C) eyes closed and her ashen-hair splayed across the cot.

And now that (Y/N) was thinking of a warm bath to wash off the sweat and dust from her body, her eyes widened as they darted to the cot. Her daughter had stirred awake, throwing another teary tantrum as she quickly reached for her daughter in the cot for she knew Al Haitham was a light sleeper and she wouldn't wish to disturb his peace.

Taking the child in her arms, (Y/N) gently cooed at her, cradling her by the window as she pointed at the stars and moons and little trinkets in the nursery. And slowly (Y/N) started narrating the incident when Al Haitham had forgotten his keys at her home.

"Uncle Kaveh hadn't come home and your father had to sit at the - Aww sweetie, no~~"

The wailing started again as the child's eyes teared up and (Y/N) rocked her a little in her arms praying to the Archons for her to quieten down. And before she knew tears started pricking her own eyes...

Al Haitham could hear the little noises in his household, washing away his sleep as he yawned. Turning to his left he frowned when he was greeted by the cold pillows. "(Y/N)?" he called getting up to sit as he yawned and stretched his arms. Turquoise eyes followed the window and he realized that it was the middle of the night. He could see a faint glow in their bedroom and he realized that (Y/N) must be in the nursery.

The ashen-haired male sighed yet again as he got down from the bed. It had now become a nightly routine for him to wake up in the middle of the night to find (Y/N) in the nursery and when he had asked why she hadn't been sleeping early enough she would lie through her teeth and he frowned again for he didn't know why.

"What do you mean? I just woke up 'Haitham" she had told him a few days ago and Al Haitham could clearly see her lying. When on further coaxing (Y/N) repeated the same thing, he left the topic for he didn't want to agitate the young mother any further, their daughter asleep in his arms. He could see how tired she looked and he wondered if (Y/N) had been taking care of her basic needs. Dark circles decorated (Y/N)'s face as she leaned on the windowsill, her body looking frail and he knew she had lost weight, the stress piling up on her. Skipped lunches and late night dinners proof enough for him.

Al Haitham didn't want to coax out a confession for he had already been warned about postpartum depression and thought that she would eventually talk to him...at her own pace...

Nevertheless, here he was yet again awake by the small noises of his crying daughter and he followed into the nursery. However the sight that greeted him was all the confession he needed.

Tears streamed down (Y/N)'s face as she sobbed and hiccupped while cradling the newborn, occasionally wiping her eyes as she cradled and pleaded to their daughter.

"Please sweetie...j-just th-this time please..." she begged as she rocked the infant further, a choked sob flying past her lips.

Al Haitham's eyes widened as he hurried towards his family, taking his daughter in his right arm as he held (Y/N) close to his chest with his left, a zephyr passing by as his daughter and wife cried into his arms and chest. Slowly he rocked their daughter in the stillness of the night, (Y/N)'s chocked sobs echoing through the household as his stroked her hair gently.

Soon enough, the baby was asleep in her father's arms and gently Al Haitham placed her in the cot before taking (Y/N) in his arms as fresh tears flooded her vision yet again

"H-'Haitham..." she whispered as she cried into his arms, pushing her face further into his chest.

"I know aşkım... I know" he placed a kiss on her forehead as his fingers stroked through her (H/C) tresses. Sighing and thanking the Archons that his wife had finally broken down or else she would have never let him know how stressful this was becoming for her.

(Y/N) sobbed quietly all the while Al Haitham held her and when she whispered a small 'I'm sorry', the male frowned as he slowly coaxed her to him.

"I-I couldn't calm h-her and...you wok-"

"No (Y/N)..." He cooed as he held her cheeks, kissing her forehead in reassurance yet again. (Y/N) still sobbed feeling guilty, regret clear in her (E/C) orbs and he hated seeing her tears.

"I knew all along..." and when her eyes widened he told her all about the small nursery he had custom made near his office just so they could be together while he worked at the Akademiya.

"I was the 'Gem of Haravatat' (Y/N), didn't you think I'd notice?" he said as he wiped her tears away with gentle touches. "Semiotics has a lingering psychology to it too... I was just waiting for you to come in terms with your emotions..." and she sighed into his arms yet again, leaning onto his chest as he continued to tell her how he would be on leave for the next few days and when he resumed his duties he would be taking them along to the Akademiya, the arrangements for them customized by Faruzan herself for she was too tired of Nilou complaining to her about his wife's trauma and stubbornness all the time she went to the Grand Bazaar.

And (Y/N) wondered how all the love in her heart was never enough for her husband.

Kissing his daughter for the last time that night, he walked out of the nursery, (Y/N) fast asleep against his chest as he carried her to their room for a good night's rest.

He smiled as he tucked her in before slipping under sheets as he held (Y/N) in his arms that night after a long time. And Al Haitham's world was at peace yet again... The whispers of the winds were the last things he heard before he drifted to a peaceful sleep, his aşkım in his arms.

@teapartyspilled

#alhaitham fluff #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fanfic #domestic #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin x you #genshin alhaitham #genshin impact fanfics #alhaitham comfort #yaepublishinghouse #alhaitham x y/n #yae publishing house #domestic fluff #married life #post pregnancy #acting grand sage #sumeru #alhaitham #ryutarites

[milknhonies]

Wails of Wedded Bliss

Chapter 2 || Masterlist || Chapter 4

Chapter Summary: After finding his debts you decide to take matters into your own hands...what a terrible decision...

Pairing: Sherlock Homes x wife!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Historical Typical Sexism, Debts, Domestic Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Blackmail.

Word Count: 9k

Author Notes:

★For those of you possibly turning around and saying “£290 is nothing for all of what Sherlock has bought”

...I’ll remind you this is set in 1890 and so since then inflation has risen greatly...

★So for the modern reader I must insist to explain that £290 in England is now worth £30,671...

★And for my American readers that would be $38,948

★And for my Australian readers that would be $58,490

★Basically...Sherlock Holmes is a material gorl 💅

Inspiring Song: "Ghiribizzi" by Paganini

•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•

7:35am Tuesday 6th May 1890, 221B Baker Street, Marylebone, Westminster, London, England.

You wobbled onto your feet as Mrs Hudson entered the apartment with a scowl... probably because of something Sherlock said to her in passing the stairs.

The old crow’s frown spirited away when she noticed you were awake and outside of your bedroom.

She smiled warmly in fact and bid you a good morning. You returned the expression as she came and collected the breakfast plates.

Your fingers trailed over the countless of papers on the table and the sleek wood of his violin.

Shuffling through each parchment and a sigh drawled from your lips.

“Mrs Hudson,” you hummed as she passed you, “I request you show me the expenses of the household purse.”

It was a common duty of a wife nowadays to keep track of all home expenses.

She paused and her eyes widened, her mouth flapped open and closed quickly again. Her teeth grimaced and her bony finger wagged, “I am afraid my dear, they are in Mr Holmes bedroom, and as I said yesterday, he can be an incredibly private person.”

His bedroom? Oh yes...he kept it locked. But by god you needed to get to the bottom of this theory you were building in your mind. You were married and a married couple shouldn’t withhold secrets.

“I am his wife, I am the second close thing to the holy trinity in his life now,” you snorted softly as you collected all the papers on the table and made a neat single pile, “I will see the documents and understand his predicament.”

“And which predicament may that be?” the housekeeper inquired as she laid down a fresh virgin cup to pour scolding tea from the hot teapot.

“Enola mentioned something about debts,” You clutched the front of your dressing gown to contain some decorum while you sat back down and gestured to the chair beside you for her to sit in as well, “his foul dismissal of my presence suggests not only disdain of our union but in addition a set of a secrecy and disfavour I will not permit in my marriage.”

You needed to know exactly how much debt he was in. You were willing to part some of your dowry to pay for it if you could. His aggression was surely caused by the stress of these debt...if you could lift them off his shoulders, mayhaps he would be kinder, gentle and respectful.

She passed you the cup and saucer while she took to pouring herself a cup. The elder woman smiled giddily.

You were pleased that there was no judgement of your modesty before her. It was a fine change compared to your strictly grandmother who would berate you if you dared leave your bedroom under dressed.

The elder cradled her cup and lowered it carefully, clearing her throat, “Mrs Holmes...”

You blinked...you believed you had asked her to not call you by your new name, out of friendliness.

“Mrs Hudson?” you queerly answered.

“Before your marriage,” her lip curled inward and her fingers lightly tapped her cup, she looked to the tea and quickly glanced up at you, “The detective entertained himself in some...appalling activities. I think it best not to open those locked pasts for your own sake.”

Appalling activities...in a world of proprietary that could mean anything...you did have your thoughts...you were only surprised that the notorious detective would risk tainting his reputation with some illicit practice.

You swallowed dryly before sipping lightly at the tea. You licked your lips and sighed shaking your head, “Speak plainly Mrs Hudson.”

“Oh please,” She prayed mortifyingly, “I daren’t repeat it.”

It wasn’t difficult to see the pink rising in the pale wrinkled face of Mrs Hudson.

You leant over the table and used small tongs to pick up a sugar cube and clenched your jaw. You wouldn’t play in another game of riddles, especially not with a elder woman with a privacy for embarrassing details. The sugar fell into the cup with a soft plop in the awkward silence, a ticking of the clock caught in your ear.

“Tell me or leave Mrs Hudson,” you pinched the papers on the desk , “I have documents to find and unless your words hold any meaning, do not bore me with unheard gossip.”

Her beady blue eyes under her spectacles fluttered, her lips parted at your stern tone. She inhaled deeply and looked around the room before leaning in closer to you.

She said in a hushed whisper, “My dear girl, your husband is a whore mongering, drug addicted gambler.”

Now that was a surprise to hear fall from her wrinkled lips. You pinched your forehead and rubbed thoughtfully. How would you handle this type of man?

You glanced at her with a small grin.

“Was- Mrs Hudson,” You corrected, tapping the table with your knuckle, “I will not allow such boyish whims into my marriage,” you wagged your finger at her and flashed her a devious smile, “He shall need to divorce me if he wishes to continue such behaviours, it might be harder for me to remarry but I trust not a single woman would last longer than me as his wife.”

A small laugh came out of the woman who gave you a dramatic military salute, she grinned and chortled, “Well, I admire your determination, but however will you enter his chambers? He has the only key.”

Your chest deflated, she was right. How would you? You chewed the inside of your cheek and looked over your shoulder to look at the closed bedroom door on the far side of the wall beside your own.

You slowly pushed up to your feet again and trapesed back to your bedroom, “Mrs Hudson, wherever did you put my hat box?”

The elderly woman put down her cup and swayed inside to follow you, she pointed to above the wardrobe. Standing on your toes you palmed the box down and laid it on your unmade bed.

Mrs Hudson was opening up your wardrobe and peeling through your hanging hooks of dresses and coats.

“My dear, surely you’re not intending to go outside in your frail condition?” she muttered as she trailed a fresh chemise over her arm.

Shaking your head you jerked you chin, “No Mrs Hudson, indoors I will remain.” Your hand clenched your lower belly with a hiss as a nasty cramp prevailed, “I don’t recall entirely but I believe a doctor was here last night, said I have begun my menses for this month.”

“I can see dearest,” Mrs Hudson hummed, pinching at your dressing gown...you had bled through it. A wet crimson patch stained the white cotton. You balked and flushed.

“Best get it off now,” Mrs Hudson winked, pulling it back and off your naked shoulders, “I’ll make you some packing.”

You shuddered and gasped at how forward your housekeeper was presenting. Respectfully speaking, you wondered if Mrs Hudson had been a ladies maid in her earlier years before her own marriage.

You tiptoed to the water basin on the vanity and squeezed the clean cloth inside of it. You cleaned the red and burgundy chunks and stream between your thighs. Your washed your hands back in the water and faced Mrs Hudson sheepishly. She smiled and pulled the chemise over your head.

“Let me roll some packing,” she said, pulling a bandage from the top drawer of the vanity and folded it into a flat palm of thickened fabric.

You shoved it up against your intimate flesh and squeezed your thighs together tightly.

Mrs Hudson then found a sanitary apron in the same drawer and helped tie it behind your back.

“Mrs Hudson you are a fine woman of elegance and saintly kindness,” you exhaled, “Thank you.”

“I remember when I was a freshly married girl,” She clucked happily, “My dear friend was a constant visitor and helped me with these things. Mr Hudson grew very jealous of our time together,” she sighed, “Now, do you require a corset my dear?”

You shook your head and plucked your fingers, “I shan’t accept any visitors, and in my sickly state it would be kinder to leave it be if I should make a mess of my inconvenience.”

If your stomach threw up from the stress of your internal curse, you didn’t want to wash through the delicate fabrics of your whale bone undergarments.

You found a loose blouse and black skirt to pull and button onto your body. You pulled up a pair of stockings.

You sat on the bed as Mrs Hudson buttoned your shoes up with a hook. As the kind older woman did this gradually with her small fingers and greying eyes, you pulled the lid of your hat box away.

You pulled out a long metal stick...

A sharp hat pin.

“There we are, all done and ready for the day!” the housekeeper announced, rising to her feet.

You rose up with her and smiled, “Please Mrs Hudson, might I burden you with making another pot of tea?”

She beamed and nodded.

•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•

08:45am Tuesday 6th May 1890, 221B Baker Street, Marylebone, Westminster, London, England.

You were grunting on your knees before Sherlock’s locked door. Your hat pin jammed into the key hole. The tip of your tongue stuck out the corner of your lips as you shuffled the metal and tried to carefully listen to the locking of the inner gears.

Little did anyone know...this little talent you learnt on your own... Breaking into your grandfathers wine cellar was not a overexerting task when you were fifteen. It wasn’t a desire to rebel, rather a desire to educate yourself...you wanted to be seen as intelligent and knew your wines.

It wasn’t too long before you came to hate the bitter taste...and then found your grandfather’s rum drum.

When he found you, he didn’t not strike you and decided the headache you received in the morning was punishment enough for your sinful deed. And for a whole week he made you drink a cup of the stuff every night, to teach you why alcoholism was not befitting for a lady...

You smirked at the memory. Perhaps it was unorthodox. But it was kinder than a lashing or earful from your grandmother.

It was just one of many secrets between the both of you.

The loud click and sliding of the last inner lock made your eyes sparkle. As you twisted the handle the door peeled open with a awful squeak.

“My lord, what a mess!” you gasped.

The room was in a disarray. A smell of mould and death hit your nose. You gagged and felt your belly churn.

There was cigar burns in the rug, papers, news papers and books thrown about. There were plates that were piled up in the corner on a desk and there was a dirt dried mud trails...

The curtains were stained and the dust was unbelievable. When your finger ran along a small stand beside the door your finger came back looking pitch black with the soot.

You sat back and stood up. Piece by piece you picked up all the papers and went to his filing cabinet drawer, it was empty! Of course it was empty, all the contents had been tossed about, decorating the room messily.

You fingered the massive haul of papers and sighed, you would need to organise them all...

Taking them back out to the dining table you started to arrange piles of parchment stacks. Receipts, paid and unpaid, by date and purchases. Your eyes catered to the numbers, you fetched a notebook to tally the expenses and sighed, cupping your mouth every so often at his choices of spending.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts and game of pounds, shillings and pence, you hadn’t heard the return of Mrs Hudson with a fresh pot and tea set.

“Dear me,” she said clicking her tongue and shaking her head, “It looks like you’ve got your work cut out! Now what’s all this?” She asked picking up a receipt off a pile.

Rolling your shoulders back she smiled proudly at the organisation of affairs. You gestured to the individual sheet stacks.

“Ah sings Den, Cocaine Tooth Drops, Black Shag Tobacco, gambling...prostitutes,” you chewed your lip worriedly as you glance back at the small note book you write on with a blunt pencil, “He has wracked up a wicked sum...”

The housekeeper put the receipt back and sat beside you after pouring you another warm tea, this time she added the sugar cube for you and stirred.

“How much?” She whispered looking over the thick almost book like mountains of papers.

Since the new year began...Sherlock had designed quite the irresponsible money expenses and debts...

£5.65 for the Opium Den experience.

£3.25 for the Cocaine drops

£10.41 for the tobacco.

£120.78 for the overall gambling.

£150.33 for his Mayfair Row whores to Madam Adler.

Total: £290.42....

You felt your lips tighten, your belly squeezed. You paled and frailly held the cup to your lips, softly blowing and softly stating, “Perhaps that number I will keep to myself Mrs Hudson,” you pushed a pile close to her and tapped at the top, “Be not alarmed however, he seems to dedicate his rent responsibly to you.”

She chortled and shook her head, “Oh I don’t mind that, I trust him to,” her eyes narrowed at the

Mayfair receipts, “I just never liked the company he brought home.”

Your eyes widened and it was like air had been stolen and kicked from your lungs, “He brought...” you choked, shutting your eyes, “Those...those women back here?”

She grit her teeth and finished her tea, “Yes, they leave like newborn foals with wobbly legs.”

When Mrs Hudson caught your worrisome eyes she gasped and tapped your hand softly, “Forgive me, I needn’t provide details.”

You pursed your lips disapprovingly before conceiting, “As much as it is wounding to hear, it is unavoidable,” you sighed and poured yourself another tea, “As his wife it is best I know everything about my husband and if he is to keep secrets from me,” you shrugged, “However shall I be a decent partner?”

Mrs Hudson put her cup aside demurely and leant closer to you. Still in her hushed tones, ashamed of the secrets she was sharing...but her eyes were full of excitement, perhaps this gossip was something she needed off her conscious.

“I would hear them in the night, screaming...I thought he was killing them,” more colour was flushing back into her face. A rosy hue dusted her nose and cheeks, “I am thankful every time when I would see them leave with smiles on their faces.”

You sat back in your chair abruptly and looked at her curiously, “Screaming and smiles?” You whispered under your breath, “How peculiar.”

It wasn’t possible. Did he hurt those prostitutes like how he had done to you? How did they walk away with smiles? Was it because he paid them? Not even you could think how to muster a smile after experiencing such awful tortures.

“I thought perhaps, he did what he had done onto you my dear...but when I saw the blood and your lack of pleasantry, well, I can confidently say-”

You slapped your cup on the saucers hard enough for a loud clatter, you said tightly, “Mrs Hudson I’d very much prefer to forget yesterdays events, if you don’t mind...please do not refer back to them.”

The mention caused a spike of pain inside you, reminding you where he stuck his hot selfish poker.

The elder woman grew quiet for a moment. She looked off at the window in the distance and then down at her cup.

She nodded and tried to share a soft smile, “Apologies for any offence.”

A stab of guilt panged in your chest, you hadn’t mean to be so rude to her. Your nerves were in a terrible mood. In a moment you would be happy and then the next you would feel worrisome and hungry. Perhaps you might’ve grown to be afflicted by the disease of Hysteria?

Oh Hysteria, what a terrible condition...you dreaded the thought of need to go for a medical massage. One of your female cousins had been to one and her description made it sound both enlightening and frightful. In fact she said it felt like she had died and gone to heaven and returned.

All of which made you scared beyond belief.

“None received,” you pat her hand and brought her palm to your lips, “You are a kind Christian and for that I say god bless you Mrs Hudson.”

She smiled warmly and stole a soft kiss to your cheek, all was forgiven between your temper.

“Oh my dear, I must additionally confess,” she stunningly proclaimed, “Sherlock doesn’t attend church.”

Your brows rose, “What?” You snorted through a laugh, unable to comprehend her truth, “Don’t be ridiculous, what upstanding gentleman doesn’t attend church?”

You giggled and cheerfully wiped a tear away, your sanity returned when her face had remained stone solid. She did not find it funny and you realised finally it was because in fact not a joke...

You glanced over the papers...back to the number on your notebook...ah of course...no god fearing man could sin so easily...waste away fortune so carelessly and spend it on unnecessary frivolous activities.

“I think that might be the answer to your own question. The Doctor Watson wrote his newspaper articles and depicted him London’s hero. He can be truly a godless man. Frankly I believe he’s a sadist.”

You tilted your head at her and drank some of your tea.

You hummed and held a finger to your lip in thought, “Yet you said those women had smiles on their faces when they left?”

Mrs Hudson shook her head curtly and smirked, “Well I think I’d smile too with the amount he probably pays them.”

Laying your elbow on the table with your chin on your head you looked at the brothel papers, “You are right...they are over priced...Mayfair Row...they’re quality...but nonetheless still he pays them far too much.”

Your husband was an exuberant tipper when it wasn’t his money. Mayfair Row...you hadn’t been inside the Dove club where Sherlock spent most the wealth...but you knew the average price of a whore...it took you back to a time...many, many years ago...back when you believed you had a mother that loved you...back when seeing a naked man behave like an animal writhing on-top of her was your normal life. Where you mimicked the actions with your cloth doll that you carried everywhere. You tried to remember the name of that doll....Susie? Harriet? God only remembers now.

They weren’t pleasant memories...the stench of mud, the screaming of women, the yelling if men, the bite of hunger and the itch of lice in your hair and fleas covering your clothes.

You shuddered. Thank god you still did not live with her anymore. It was the only life you knew in those days but suffering is suffering and you amazed you how long you survived in such conditions.

The elderly woman looked into the pot and sighed at the low level of tea.

“I am surprised you know so much about them,” she casually noted, glancing back at you.

You realised how strange you must’ve sounded...you heart began to race. You grimaced, annoyed at yourself for being so relaxed you lost thought of your own words.

“Call it a terrible interest Mrs Hudson,” you licked your bottom lip and lied, “I was a reader of Josephine Butler’s work on her dismantlement of child sex work.”

She nodded slowly, clearly Mrs Hudson had no idea who Mrs Butler was...you felt a twinge of agitation for the uneducated.

You tapped your fingers nervously on your cup again and off handedly asked “Do you know if there are anymore receipts I might find Mrs Hudson?”

“No idea I’m afraid,” Mrs Hudson said as she noticed your cup was finally empty. She collected the tea set items and placed them on the tray. You turned in your seat and looked back at Sherlocks open door, there was still so much mess. You shook your head.

Before the housekeeper left you touched her arm.

“Please fetch me a broom and cloth and clean water.”

She followed your gaze at his room and warmly cupped your face, “Dear, perhaps you should lay in bed for a while, you shouldn’t be working so perilously in this physical state.”

You smiled and held her hand, rising out of the chair. You walked back to his room and called over your shoulder, “I would rather clean my husband’s hovel. No wonder he’s a beast considering he lives like one.”

You could hear Mrs Hudson cackling behind you as she went back down stairs only to return with your requested items after a while.

A clean room might clear his head, calm his woes.

•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•

12:23pm Tuesday 6th May 1890, 221B Baker Street, Marylebone, Westminster, London, England.

After hours of sweeping, dusting, mopping, washing and organising Sherlock’s room you tiredly flopped back on his mattress and yawn.

At this rate you considered a small nap was required. Except you knew yourself, you knew if you stopped your progress you’d be discouraged to finish.

There was one last thing to organise after folding and hanging all his clothes. At the foot of Sherlock’s bed was a large chest. It could be easily mistaken for an ottoman. Maybe they’re would be more debt documents or clothing in there.

You crawled down and climbed off his bed to crouch beside the chest. You clicked the latches open and lifted the lid slowly.

Inside were sinister objects...you gasped...too shocked to even close the chest. Rope, shackles, knives, long thin sticks, a riding crop, a whip, a bridle you knew deep down was too small for a horse and meant for a human...smaller boxes with printed words....rectal dilators and hysterical paroxysm vibrating aid. And the illustrations...

There was a book you were reading...you weren’t really thinking, you were just curious of the horrid that might follow within...

Men and women, all nude, illustrations and photos of them performing elaborate sexual deviancy. Your eyes widened and your breath caught in your throat. Between your legs the buzz of arousal enlightened to your belly.

There was a woman who was tied up in ropes in star like patterns being mounted by a man who held a riding crop in his hand. You paled thinking he was beating this poor woman...and as you read the words, it was discovered she enjoyed this...took pleasure in the agony??

It was very confusing for you to read such hypocrisy.

Who would enjoy being hurt like this?

And as you read more and more, the deeper into this strange arousal you sunk into.

There was a illustration on a woman holding her lover’s intimate member in her mouth. And another where the same lover was licking with a long snake like tongue at her clitoris.

Your thighs squeezed tight and you groaned as a cramp rippled through your body down to your knees.

Hearing your name on your housekeepers lips tore you away from the novel. You threw the book back inside the chest and shut it hard. You felt short of breath and grasped the wood of his canopy to stay stable before leaving his chambers.

You told yourself that it was wrong to be looking at such art and imagery of lust. A part of you however desired to peak back inside...curiosity was your master and chastity your mistress. So who would you listen to first?

Your eyes fluttered shut.

You met the elderly woman out in the sitting room where she was dusting at the unlit fireplace mantle... She was moving little trinkets and photos.

Within the centre of the mantle stand was a frame containing your own portrait. You had the image taken at a tintype shop over a year ago. You stood beside Mrs Hudson as you took in the reflection of yourself. You smiled at how brilliant it captured your likeness. You were still confused how it worked, something about sand and light...your grandfather stood aside that day and said he would be sending the image to his son to remind him of you, his daughter...you were embarrassed to say the least but dared not argue with his wisdom.

Well it seems your father didn’t get the photo...or perhaps he send it back. Now Sherlock had it in his ownership.

She smiled at you and ran a hand softly down your back and said, “I just wanted to ask if you liked mutton dear, I hope to cook some this evening for dinner.”

You smiled with relief, you told her, “I am ever grateful for any food you provide my husband and I, thankyou Mrs Holmes.”

The elderly woman eyes widened with joy. She turned on her heel, taking the bucket and cloth with her.

You looked over at the table covered in receipts she had kindly left untouched.

“Mrs Hudson,” You called after her as you stepped hastily over to a side board bureau and began to write up a cheque, “is there any chance you will be attending the bank today?”

Facing you she pat the door handle and exclaimed, “No, however I can stop by if you need me to, I am officially in need to buy some fresh mutton from the butcher.”

You smiled at her cheery attitude. You filled out the numbers and printed the expenses. You tore it away from the book and held it out to her.

“Fantastic...here. Take this.”

The housekeeper stepped closer and raced her eyes over the cheque. Her eyes blew up wide at the price you had written out.

“I don’t quite understand...” she shakily stated.

You sighed and clapped your hands as you went to finally sit down on the lounging chaise. It wasn’t hard to admit you needed the rest with how your head spun. You were dizzy and it was possibly from all the cleaning you had conducted and dust you had inhaled.

“Sherlock needs to be rid of these debts and I need to rid of his temper...my dowry Mrs Hudson I pray brings me peace.”

Yes, you were sure of it. Your very expensive dowry...you were going to pay the debt off and help your husband become less of an animal. Perhaps you might convince him to attend church.

“Mrs Holmes,” your housekeeper stammered, “I would advise you hold onto this...please...you cannot just-”

You cut her off dignifiedly, “Mrs Hudson, this cheque card will enter the bank whether by your hand or mine. And before you have insisted I rest. So please if you care enough for me, you shall hand it in on my behalf.”

Her face was flushed and her eyes shut tight. She shook her head disapprovingly while muttering

“Very well dear girl, I hope you know what you are doing.”

Out Mrs Hudson went, and down you went. Your face pressed into a cushion. With your eyes fluttering shut, you feel back into the darkness and peacefully slept, listening to the wafting sounds of Baker Street flow from Sherlock’s bedroom window.

•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•

6:00pm Tuesday 6th May 1890, 221B Baker Street, Marylebone, Westminster, London, England.

Sherlock still had not returned home from his morning flee. As Mrs Hudson laid out a plate of roast and potatoes with gravy she assured you that Sherlock had a habit of staying out for hours. Whether for a case or his own pleasures and addiction.

On the table in front of you was the paper bank statement, it accounted that the cheque had been entered and applied to the debts.

Now the Sherlock Holmes was a debt free man...

After you finished your dinner, Mrs Hudson kindly helped remove your shoes and change your bedding. You were redressed in a night gown and over your shoulders a warm dressing gown.

You now only wore a sanitary apron to protect yourself from your blood.

All his paid debt receipts were in a folder, you stared at that manilla folder smugly. Your left it on the table as you went to inspect the book shelves on the far wall near the entrance of the home.

You looked at the many novels on the shelves, now some of them being the ones brought over from your grandparents estate. On quick flicking through pages you found most of them being related to science, language and anatomy. Glancing back at Sherlocks open door, you thought about the book in the chest. That was more than just an anatomy book...

You squeezed your side, you were feeling a spike in temperature and a shortness in breath reimagining those images...those words.

It wasn’t the smut novella Fanny Hill, but it stoked fires inside you much like it. You knew it was something you probably shouldn’t have come across, because you shouldn’t have been inside his room, touching his belongings.

You had to. It smelt like something had died.

You prayed this would sort him out. You could only hope that the years ahead would not be so testing.

You had a list of mental rules. You may be his wife and beneath his status, however you would not just stand back and watch him act a fool and fall victim to further ridicule in society. You would not sink in the same boat again. You were excluded from many balls as a teen when some wicked foul mouth girl had revealed the secrecy of your parentage.

Your step mother was only eleven years older than you, so really...there was no possibility of pretending to be her child. Everyone in high society of they knew you, knew what you were. And because they knew you were treated like a unspeakable burden and unwanted pet at parties.

It wasn’t a mystery to you why you started playing the role of a wallflower at only fifteen.

You refused to allow Sherlock to bring you to such shame in society.

The heavy foot steps outside the close door alerted you to an approach made by someone other than Mrs Hudson.

With the loud snap of the handle and click of the lock, in entered a breathless giant. Sherlock.

He tore off his hat and coat and only after hanging the items on the rack by the door did he acknowledge you with a small nod, “Mrs Holmes,” he bid. Under his arm you noticed was a paper wrapped package.

You heard him march through the house towards the middle room and heard him swear under his breath, follows by a repetitive “no no no.”

You heard him frantically skid around the carpets and floor boards of his own room. He was tearing open and slamming drawers and wardrobe doors.

“What the hell have you done! What have you-?”

Storming out of his room, you gasped at how his face reddened and he continued shouting, but thankfully not at you. He raced to the front door and tore it open screaming down the stairwell,

“Where are you woman!? Mrs Hudson! You shrivelled cow!”

You slapped the book in your hands shut, regarding him disdainfully, “Our housekeeper is not to be rewarded by your insults.”

The turn around he made was slow as realisation came to his heated face. The snarl was replaced by a begrudged sneer as he scoffed, pointing his finger sharply back in the direction of the bedrooms, “...You did this destruction?”

“Destruction?” You whispered. What destruction had you done?

As he approached, you unconsciously took a step back and nervously licked your bottom lip. You felt air being pulled from you as he towered above and stabbed you beneath a invasive gaze.

His darkened eyes looked across the light material of your nightwear. His fingers tugged the book out of hands and pushed it back into the shelving where it belonged.

You decided you needed to stand firmer against him, You craned your head back and stared up at him.

“H-hardly...I have organised. Cleaned.” You took another step back and felt the wood of the display cabinet behind you dig into your waist.

“By subject,” you felt his body press up against you, what the hell was he doing? Trying to intimidate you? You were hardly dressed compared to his full clad attire. It scared you. He looked formidable, like he was going to tear you limb from limb, his nostrils flared. Your insides jumped and that buzzing feeling ran through your lower half. God...why did this of all things arouse you?

Your throat felt shaky, “then- then ah numerical dated followed by alphabetically.”

You glance him over and blinked at the red spot on his chest, was it ink? No, ink isn’t so dark....under Sherlock’s jaw was a scratch, a slight discolouration to his skin and under his hair curl on his forehead as another mark.

He leant down and pressed his mouth to your ear, “Do not ever enter my chambers or touch my belongings without my permission again.” It was a mix between a whisper, an disciplining snarl, and a lusty moan.

It left your knees feeling bloodless. Your own eyes shut closed at the hot breath that breathed into your lobe and hair.

As he pulled back, he stood away and for the first few moments you needed to remember how to control your breathing.

He looked over the dining room table and slid the thick folder closer to himself.

“And what is this?” he asked you.

“Your debts,” You swallowed and wiped your palm across your forehead, a trail of sweat drenched your hand, “Paid for.”

He smirked and shook his head, “Mycroft.”

“No,” you bluntly said, smoothing your hands down your dress to rid of the wrinkles that rose up. Seeing how your nipples had hardened beneath your nightgown you pulled the dressing gown tighter around you and crossed your arms protectively over your chest.

You looked at his body hunched over the table and blinked at the white marks over the edges of his dark navy suit jacket. It looked like flour...except flour had a tendency to clump. His nails were also clean of any baking incredibly. But his finger pads on the wooden table left little faint prints...

“You?” he chuckled condescendingly.

You nodded, “Yes.”

His laughter quickly fell away, his head snapped up fully to look at you, his brows knitted together,

“Why?”

His lips settled into a frown.

He put his hands on his hips, a power play...he was trying to show confidence, dominance...perhaps in response to your arms folded over your chest.

It would’ve been good to just tell him the truth, but to explain it to him would be impossible. You chose to simplify the answer...

“Easement on your consciousness?” You offered dryly. It wasn’t a total like, the less stress, the more relaxing and kindness....right?

His mouth twisted into a snarl, “Why you insufferable little-”

“Where did you go today?,” you pondered, cutting him off from finishing his insult, “A school?”

He jerked back slightly, he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, he took a deep breath and cupped his hands behind his back, “Excuse me?”

Good, he was calmer now.

This time you took to action...you stepped forward and sighed solemnly pinching one of his vest buttons.

“Chalk, on your cuffs. You smell like sweat in a teenage boy rather than a man. You’ve also had a scuffle with someone much shorter than you from the marks on your neck. Your shirt has a speck of what I believe is blood and the button is loosen,” you pinched and ripped it from the shirt and it’s faint loose thread.

“Fret not...” you smirked and pat his chest, “I will mend it should you ask.”

His hands came around and squeezed your forearms, his head moved back a little. He was perplexed...a light upturn in his lips revealed his sudden amusement.

He lifted a hand up and gently touched your face. He was breathing in a controlled state. You felt the intimacy of his closeness without fear of his wrath.

“No...” he drawled, “I was at Scotland yard. A poor deduction...” his thumb ran across your chin, “dear wife.”

You felt your heart pick up as his soft hand touched your face, you tried looking away from his staring eyes. Sherlock’s edged closer to your lips.

“Poor deduction but I am not stupid,” you consoled.

His lips broke into a wider smile revealing his teeth, he chuckled, “...I beg to differ.”

He moved abruptly back and fled to escape to his rooms. You knew his intention perfectly and chased after him, emphasising, “You had almost three hundred pounds in debt Sherlock. I at least know how to wisely spend my money.”

He spun on his heel and snapped at you, pointing harshly at your chest, “oh ho! Playing this game then are we? With your dowry gone, you have nothing left. I’d hardly call paying off my debts which were none of your concern, wise spending.”

You grabbed his finger and announced softer, serious and less aggressive, “Indeed, which is why I implore you to cease all further transactions in regards to your addictions.”

“Do not patronise me wife,” He scoffed and rolled his eyes tried tearing his hand away but your grip on his index finger tightened and the both of your grunted.

You grit your teeth at him, “Do not patronise me husband.”

He sighed and wiggled his finger from out of your hand.

He dusted his hands on his waist coat and huffed. He peered at you with a mischievous gaze.

“My debts...they included my friends...yes? From Mayfair?”

Oh that was cruel indeed. Mentioning those women when you were married to him. You wouldn’t dare let him threaten you over them.

You fought the urge to hit him and stomp your foot. You turned away from him and quickly composed yourself. Hastily you plucked some matches from the small box ontop of the fireplace mantel. You struck a small flame and tossed it into the fire place where you discarded some old newspapers as kindling.

“Yes,” you admitted tightly, “I know about your scandalous behaviours and forbid you from consorting in that demonstration again.”

He pushed passed you and unbuttoned his jacket and vest fully. He draped them over the back of one of the lounges, he pulled up his trousers slightly as he sat down.

He chuckled, “You forbid me?”

You glared at him and shot back up off the floor. You squeezed your eyes tightly as you firmly dictated, “I am the only woman to ever receive you carnally from now on.”

He smirked and spread his legs wide, folding his arms on his chest. He jerked his chin up at you and clicked his tongue, “I don’t believe you know what that means. Believe me little lamb, my fidelity is that last thing you’ll desire...or did you not learn from yesterday?”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“I stand by what I mean Sherlock. You will not commit adultery while married to me,” you snapped. You wanted control, this would not be taken from you if you could help it.

“Or what?” He laughed, he then condescendingly moaned, “You’ll tell my big brother?”

As he went back to his smug chuckling you clenched your fists and stood over him. You weren’t thinking straight. Only a red shade cast in your eyes. You grabbed his collar and tugged him hard, spitting down at him with full anger as you threatened, “...Or I will kill you.”

He stopped laughing but didn’t stop his smug smiling. His hands came up and grabbed yours, prying them from his shirt.

“Barely been forty eight hours of wedded bliss and you desire to murder me. Ha! I now owe John five pounds,” he looked down at your chest which you realised was hanging in a uncompromising position. He could see right down your chest practically to your third rib with your lack of supporting chemise. Sherlock tongued the inside of his cheek and hummed, “My word.”

You gasped with horror and attempted to rip away from his hold, you grunted gruffly, “You are a pig Sherlock Holmes!”

He pulled you forcefully downwards and made your knees buckle. Your chest fell into his and you both hissed at the impact of crushing into each other.

Lewdly his hot wet tongue licked its way from your neck up to your earlobe while his hands pushed your thighs up to straddle over him, his fingers sharply stabbed into your backside under the night gown.

“You have absolutely no clue to what I am little Lamb.”

You tried pushing off him immediately, and felt his arm wrap around your waist and trap you against him.

Your legs so wildly spread and pressed against his trousers made you feel like you were riding on a horse.

Despite the plethora of farm animals you could compare in his and your name, you had both your wrists this caught in his one hand.

“Go on,” he chuckled as you struggled against him, “Tell me how you would do it...,” he taunted,

“How would you kill the great Sherlock Holmes, London’s finest Detective?”

You shrieked as you felt crushed under his baring arm, “I can think of many ways!”

“Well go on,” he smugly waited with raised brows, “Tell me.”

Your eyes rolled and you whined when he dug his nails into your wrists.

“I’ll push you down the stairs!”

He barked with laughter and shook his head, “You cannot be sure the fall would kill me, perhaps I might be paralysed, with many broken bones, but no no, I also don’t think you have the strength to push me around anywhere, look at you right now.”

“Fine!” you yelled, “Ill stab you with a knife!”

“Ah a violent approach, but what of the blood?” He grabbed your hip and moved you to grind your centre down on a lump in his trousers, “Why, even those idiots in Scotland Yard would figure out it was you; blood staining the clothes, carpet and blood beneath your nails, and where would you ever be able to hide the weapon?”

“Sherlock! Let me go or I’ll poison your tea!” you whined terribly.

He bit his lip and shook his head at you, “Oh dear Mrs Holmes, it’s possibly the most common death among an unhappy married couple. Wives are known to favour poison greatly.”

You heaved as you tried to catch your breath. You fell forward a little. Your sweaty forehead touched his.

“Please,” you whined, “let me go. All I want is you to be a civilised man and honour our marriage bed.”

He looked down at your parted lips. He looked back at your chest and shut his eyes.

“You want me to give up my whores Mrs Holmes?”

You gulped and nodded, “Of course.”

When he opened those blue orbs with the brown flecks, he whispered, “I promise to forsake them...if...”

“If?” you stammered and narrowed your eyes.

“Hush!” He reprimanded, “I promise to forsake my whores on Mayfair Row...If I can have my whore of Baker Street.”

Before you and time to reply and question what he even meant, he stood up and tossed you onto the floor. Sherlock crawled over you and pinned your flailing hands above your hand.

“You want to please me, please your husband, Mrs Holmes?” he gasped as his other hand went groping and squeezing around your soft body.

You weakly nodded, your head rested on the floor trying to get back the breath he knocked from you when he pushed you down.

You hissed softly, “Please, you’re hurting me.”

His hands loosened but held you trapped to the floor.

His lips danced over your cheek, “Then you will need to perform like a whore for me.”

A sobbing cry ripped front our chest, unsure of his real intention you quickly jumped to the conclusion of his implications.

You choked and shook your head, “No! I am not going to become a prostitute!”

He cackled at your fearful cry.

“No, this body belongs to me,” he said as he pinched the strings of your night gown and pushed the material away to show off your bare breasts.

His lips wrapped around your right nipples and sucked hard, tickling you with his tongue tip. Tears started to well in your face. You didn’t understand what he was implying to do to you. It tickled and felt so warm.

You were scared. You knew some men of the world were evil. Evil husband’s that pimped out the women they married. You couldn’t imagine being so intimate with another person. You couldn’t imagine succumbing to the agony you received the night before by Sherlock’s hand.

Kicking your feet across the rug and tried pushing your body from under him. He grunted as your nipple left his lips. He pressed the hand hard on your hip and affirmed, “Keep still, little lamb.”

“Sherlock,” you started to beg on a whimper, “Please, stop! You are frightening me, you’re h-hurting me!”

He looked down at you, his hair falling slightly on your head. His smile wavered as he took note of your tears and wobbling lips.

His gaze softened along with his voice, “...be completely honest with me.”

You nodded desperately, “I will, I will!”

“Did you look in the trunk at the foot of my bed?”

The chest full of explicit items and torture devices.

Your eyes squeezed tight and you exhaled, “I did.”

He smirked and let you go completely, standing up and held his hand to assist you too. When you were finally upright, he pinched your exposed nipple. You shrieked.

“I am a man Y/N, I have needs. I expect you to fulfil them earnestly if you desire I abandon my charity to Mayfair.”

You tried pushing his hand back and covering your breasts with the dressing gown. He smirked and shook his head at you, “No, no, let me see them.”

The silence was vile. The crackling of the fire place was the only ambience that showed attendance.

You couldn’t do it. It was wrong to be so exposed beyond the bedroom.

He waited and when you showed no sign of showing him, he sighed and nodded, “Very well, good night Mrs Holmes, I will call upon my friend Irene.”

He walked around you and journeyed to his open bedroom door.

As if all colour drained from your face you feverishly held out a hand and quickly called, “Wait, please! Look!”

You all but chased him into his own bedroom. He snapped his head in your direction. You stood in the centre space between his bed and the door.

He raised a brow and watched almost unimpressed as your trembling fingers shed your dressing gown and pulled the neckline of your night gown open...there he could finally observe your luscious breasts.

“Why Mrs Holmes,” he mused, sitting on his bed and peeling his cravat off his neck, “Your teats are exposed, careful,” he sarcastically warned, “One might mistake you for a slut.” You felt breathless and curled your lips inside.

You couldn’t believe it, you were letting him hurt you in a new way. You were letting him bully you. It wasn’t right and you desperately hated it, but what else was there except to let him defile and destroy your holy vows?

“Is that a sanitary apron on your waist?” he question, pointing at the lump under your gown.

You nodded, “I am still bleeding husband...”

“Do you know what that means?” Sherlock said unbuttoning his shirt.

Your licked your lips, folding your arms behind your back you tried hard to not cover yourself,

“My body is extinguishing my mental illnesses.”

He smirked and rolled his eyes, “Your medical knowledge is dated, but that is not what I implied...I meant that you should come to your knees and perform fellatio.”

Your eyes widened...fellatio was such a naughty word to hear let alone say. It was the type of practise in the book in his chest. Oral sex. Seeing the woman hold her male companions member appeared lewd and distasteful.

You hadn’t thought of ever doing it yourself, it served no purpose in procreation with god.

Flustered and shy, you cupped your hands over your face to think.

Sherlock’s voice was softer this time. He wasn’t mocking you as he explained, “I will not force you to do this Y/N, you do not have to if you do not want to.”

You shook your head and scowled at him from your hands, “But I do! I don’t want you to ever lay with a woman other than me! I am-“ you choked on some on coming tears, “I am your wife Sherlock, please...promise me if I do this you won’t lay with another woman.”

He unbuckled his trousers and sighed, “Then get on your knees,” he pulled out his semi hard rod, “and kiss your husbands cock.”

You looked over your shoulder at his door and then back at him.

Would you do this? Humiliate yourself in promise of keeping his vows loyally to you?

Helplines:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers.

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

#dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #sherlock holmes x female reader #sherlock holmes x poc!reader #sherlock holmes x y/n #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes x ofc #sherlock holmes x reader #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x female reader #Henry Cavill x poc!reader #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes enola holmes #enola sherlock #enola holmes sherlock holmes #chapter 3 #milky fics

[doodle-pops]

Domestic Life With Glorfindel Would Include...

𑁍 So first of all, domestic life with him would mainly happen when you two are back in Valinor when the both of you don’t have any strenuous work as heads of the House. This means that you two get to lay back and relax a lot more than usual.

𑁍 He’s going to be all over you more than ever (so if he wasn’t in the beginning) and fewer duties means more time in private. He’s not going to let you go so easily so you’d be locked up with him more often.

𑁍 With domestic bliss in your life, things go a lot slower than back in Middle Earth but you’re both able to savour every moment better now.

𑁍 I did mention that he is a good cook, he wasn’t the best when you first started dating him because as a Lord, he was always busy with meeting and war and protecting people, so he never had or made the time to learn how to but when you came into his life, he made the effort because he always saw how you’d cook for him and so he wanted to reciprocate.

𑁍 So, now that you’re in your domestic bliss with less work on your plate, he’s going to be doing the cooking more often than you, sometimes if he sees you cooking either he makes you leave the kitchen so he can finish up or he joins you. He has it in his head that he’s a pro chef now.

𑁍 He’s going to help with household chores but he’s not going to be the best help because you probably never get anything done correctly or on time. He’ll constantly distract you from everything. He’s one of those people who starts cleaning and then finds a whole bunch of items and forgets cleaning to play with them. You’ll walk into the room and meet him covered in old items and playing with some toys from his childhood.

𑁍 Since he’s back in Valinor, this means that most if not all of his friends from the first age are reborn, so if you weren’t from the first age, he’s taking you to meet them. Lunch dates or dinner dates will include his friends and you so all of you can get to know each other and also do lots of catching up.

𑁍 If you two didn’t have children in Middle Earth because of all the chaos unfolding, then he’s going to bring having children up since it’s a good time and there’s no impending doom raining down on your heads.

𑁍 This means that he has more free time on his hands to romance you all the time without having to worry about someone interrupting, so I hope you have tons of energy to keep up with him.

𑁍 When you do have a child (the rest would come after), your domestic life begins to feel halfway complete as though this was what you two were missing.

𑁍 He is ecstatic when a baby becomes a part of your domestic fairy-tale life. For him, everything is now perfect. His days are filled with more fun as the baby grows. He’ll be playing all sorts of games and taking them on tours around Valinor.

𑁍 Speaking of tours, if you weren’t born in Valinor this would be the most opportune time for him to show you around, you’ll be touring Valinor as a family showing off your little bundle of joy along the way while he’s pointing out to and them all the places, he told you about.

𑁍 “Yes, do you see that curved statue over there, the one wi- Oh, hello, yes this is our newest member of the family. Cute, aren’t they? – right anyway, like I was saying…”

𑁍 Your domestic life with him will be filled with joyous moments and this would be one of the times you’d truly see him at his happiest, knowing that he doesn’t have to leave you or vice versa, it calms his heart and puts an ease to his worries. He doesn’t need to be scared about something happening since you’re living in paradise with him.

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#glorfindel imagine #glorfindel x reader #glorfindel headcanons #glorfindel #lords of gondolin #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion headcanons #silmarillion fluff #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth headcanon #middle earth fluff #lord of rings x reader #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings headcanons #lord of the rings fluff #x reader insert #x reader fluff #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[issuesntissues]

141 if they were dogs

and you can headcanon whatever breed, but this is just how their behavior would be to me :>

Price

the tail never wags

he is stoic, your standard guard dog

he basically lives for his duty, and then mopes on the floor

he doesn’t give any bite warnings, if you’re messing with him he’ll bite—

if he’s sleeping, leave him alone 😬

definitely not a family dog, but a good dog for loners or people who don’t have a lot in life

he loves raw steaks. if he is not fed raw steaks he will be grumpy

Gaz

Stoic like Price, but a calm approach and a head pat will earn you a small tail wag

a good guard dog for a small family!

he’s always on his feet but when he’s asleep, he’s out like a rock—

has an incredible nose, perfect for sleuthing

knows how to be gentle with small people and animals

definitely sleeps in the kids rooms

loves a variety of raw foods. must pay him the cheese tax

Soap

may god help you

he is hyper, he is built for outdoor activities

absolutely massive appetite, will eat whatever you give him and more (lock down your trash cans, and prepare to push him off counters)

if there’s something he’s not used to, he’ll chase it down immediately—

* always alert and vocal, if anything steps foot within his area of awareness, you’ll hear about it

although he wouldn’t be great in a family household, he gets along well with older kids (or anyone with high energy tbh)

he’s a working dog at the end of the day, and needs high activity daily exercise 🫶

Ghost

unapproachable— keep your hands and fingers to themselves

pure guard dog, and everyone can see it with how many scars he has

he has adequate hearing and smell, but impeccable eyesight

once he’s on the trail of something he won’t ever let it go—

eats nothing but raw meat of any kind (he needs protein 😳)

definitely not for any average dog owner, he’s handled by scary individuals

!! BONUS !!

König

a big dog, but he’s skittish—

was meant to be a guard dog, but got kicked out of service for being a big silly

has poor spacial awareness but an amazing nose

drools when he sleeps

if you have food, he’ll invade your space and take it (like a cow. look up a cow stealing food—)

definitely isn’t afraid to bite intruders (will mow them down and maul them if he wants to—)

💯 safe with kids of all ages (just make sure you have enough food, eats enough to fill 3 teenage boys. could eat a small human—)

Riptide

the most domesticated and least aggressive in the entire list tbh

love swimming, if he’s near any puddle or pool he’s diving right in—

excels at fetch, especially with frisbees

is the gentlest with kids, you can leave them alone with him—

has intimidating barks but they’re never aggressive, he’s mostly quiet—

loves the beach, gets all sandy and smelly ✨

has a good balance between guard dog, and family dog 💚

Keegan

you know outside cats? well he’s like that, only a dog—

comes back for food or if he’s injured/really dirty

he always stays near your home / around your neighborhood at night (he got a lil of that guard dog in him)

very quiet, never barks or whines, but if he’s fighting he’ll sound like a monster—

hunts rats for fun (doesn’t eat them though)

he would not be happy if someone took him off the street, he’s happy with his life style

#call of duty #headcanon #john price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #keegan p russ #konig cod

[punkpandapatrixk]

🌸Home Life with Your Destined Person—Timeless Tarot Pick A Card

Catching a glimpse of what domestic life looks like for you and your Destined Person. Your private life away from the beady eyes of extended family members, neighbours, colleagues, and, possibly the nation.

[Back to Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

Pile 1 – Sensibility in Sunshine’s Gentle Warmth

the Home – 7 of Wands

Active/Busy/Creative. Those are the keywords that depict your home life with your Destined Person. Of all the piles, this one is most likely to be blessed with the little steps and laughter of children, too. Irrespective of the actual size of your house, your home feels spacious. It has a lot of windows, maybe even big windows here and there, and many rooms receive soft rays of sunshine.

Within the home, the members are also full of light. There’s a lot of communication and teamwork when it comes to household duties or maintenance. A chatty family. If you had children, they would be active, strong, happy, and maybe a little naughty in a good way. They’re creatively curious, that’s all🥰There could be a lot of play and running in this household😆

Your house will have a certain clean aesthetic, whatever your personal style may be. Members are healthy and love to plan for travels. When you’re planning, even the children are included in the conversation. I can see one parent talking and giggling with the children about what they want to do during the holiday, and then the other parent takes very seriously everyone’s ideas and thoughts, and the whole trip is mesmerising for everybody.

A very cheerful family whose hearts are like early Spring~🌸Probably has one or two members who’s like a total clown or comedian😂

the living room – XIII Death Rx

There’s a sense of dynamic stability within your home. Perhaps because you’re both adults who have experiences in Life, when you come together and decide to start a family, there are already certain rules or styles you live by. You aren’t likely to change habits out of the blue; you’ve created your own solid habits and ways of doing things around the house.

And yet, this is two different individuals living together, so there’s bound to be differences. And you work wonderfully to be flexible about things. You two can communicate and then come to a compromise. Something like that… but honestly, I don’t think the word ‘compromise’ fits here. You love each other, genuinely, so you just accept each other’s differences. Acceptance is totally different from compromise, so there’s that beauty about your home life with your Destined Person, too💏You’re accommodating each other’s flaws and shortcomings, and you aren’t shy about learning from one another. You literally complete each other whilst maintaining your authentic identities.

This is a family who has a lot of respect for individuality and the members aren’t likely to try to override each other’s fundamental characters. I think that’s SO wonderful! And you wouldn’t change this for anybody’s opinions about what they think your family should look or be like. You’re strong and solid like that because the Love that unites you is a real one with a capital L.

the kitchen – 4 of Wands

Your house is literally the Home your soul returns to after a long, hard day’s work. You both have created a safe haven for everybody to chill, read books, play games, or just nap. It’s such a peaceful, clean, well-maintained home that is almost rare in today’s world. Your home never feels cold, even if say, everyone else is still outside and only one member is home for whatever reason; that member still feels that the Home is warm and full.

Perhaps because somebody has left a lot of food on the table. Perhaps there’s a cute message on the fridge. Perhaps because there’s a lot of pictures from your trips. Every family member’s presence can be felt even when they’re not there. The moment somebody comes home, there’s already a conversation. Maybe siblings throw each other a can of drink or an orange or whatever. There’s a lot of munching and talking in this household🥪

Every now and then, all family members also work together to prepare a feast. I’m really seeing this. Whether for a religious or cultural celebration, someone’s birthday, or New Year’s. Sometimes you choose to have a home party with everyone involved instead of eating out and being miserable in the middle of traffic jam LMAO

Why does your family rock so hard?!🍱

Adult Things🔻🧡

sense of responsibility – Red Geographer (John Dee)

when you get freaky – Priestess of Contemplation

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Calm Blooming in Morning Mist

the Home – King of Pentacles

Of all the piles, this one is the most difficult to translate into simple paragraphs due to the extreme variations in background🥲

Academy/Harmony/Discipline/Meticulous. These are some keywords that describe your home life with your Destined Person. First of all, you are wealthy AF. Some of you could be from a wealthy background, alright, but your home life with your Destined Person is your own next level generational wealth. You’re really, extremely, superfluously RICH. Your home is beautiful, luxurious, so extra expensive and glamorous. Your guests could even feel intimidated by how expensive the air inside your home feels. Like they’re being charged $10 per inhale🤡

Your family is probably highly academically accomplished, and you may hold prestigious jobs in high societies. Even if, for example, your work is in the creative industry, you’re a highly respected artist/creator/player in your fields. Members of this household are some of the world’s biggest earners. You’re immaculately disciplined in every aspect of your Life, including the way you operate at home. Your home has rules and everything is structured. Everyone is held to high standards of conduct. There’s a lot of expectation in this household. Can be imposingly demanding if you aren’t careful with your thoughts.

Whatever field or line of work you do, being this rich also means you’re often in the public eye. You may even be a celeb or a socialite. So you’ve got an image to maintain. Therefore, you’re cautious, and calculating. Your household runs on discipline so much it feels almost like an academy sometimes. This may not be the warmest household in the world, nevertheless, it is independent, dynamic, and civil. There’s a lot of grace and harmony in the way you interact with every member of the family. Truly, like a royalty.

the living room – Queen of Wands Rx

You or your Destined Person could (or not) have a PhD in some fields of study that are extremely studious and serious. Whichever the case, you have an expectation that your children (those of you who want them) should pursue tertiary education. You’re very serious about it. You’re not exactly sure about life paths without laws, rules, and structure. You can be quite imposingly rigid about that. If you had children, they might grow up to become somewhat rigid socially, too. Like, they’re kind and polite, alright, but they could be lacking the passionate drive to be spontaneous, which hinders their spirit of adventure. Thus, limiting their worldview via first-hand experiences.

Still, the beauty of your household is the stability and predictability. It feels safe like that because you know every family member is dependable. Your family loves and values tradition. You may even have your own small traditions that only your core family members participate in. You may have a cottage in the country or a summer house in another country. Certain times of the year, your family goes on a trip together and spend a good intellectual time.

It's like, members of your household love to study, read, have meaningful conversations, maybe talk about business or the current state affairs. Difficult, sophisticated, high-class pastime like that☕️

the kitchen – 6 of Pentacles Rx

Due to your busy schedules, since there’s also a very strong sense of independence in this pile, you may not eat together at home much, if at all. It’s literally a luxury to see family activities in the kitchen. I feel you are very important people, so you get invited to a lot of, for example, business meetings, charity events, IPO opening/launch parties, many types of functions, etc. You often dine in formal settings and you fly a lot.

In that sense, your home kitchen is quite literally a cold place where you don’t see a lot of interactions. I guess it may just not be your thing, after all; when you’ve got all of these places to be. And you’ll be like, ‘Why cook at home? We have restaurants.’ And when you do have gatherings at home, you’ll have a personal chef and staff to cook for you, so… You’re still not really there hahah🍳

Your home life isn’t necessarily lacking warmth; it’s just unconventional in a way that most people probably can’t understand. You’ve got all this money and businesses (empire, actually) to take care of. It’s like your life is spent on making things happen outside your household. And this is why your own traditions and family vacations are ever more important to you. Those are the moments you deeply connect as family.

Adult Things🔻💜

sense of responsibility – Red Alchemist (John Dee)

when you get freaky – Priestess of Inspiration

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – The Most Perfectly Untainted Love

the Home – 10 of Pentacles Rx

There is a lot of transformation and healing magic in this pile; the fact it is the only one who gets 2 Major Arcanas upright. And you know what? That hardly ever happens on this blog😜

Growing/Hustling/Prosperous. These are the keywords that depict your home life with your Destined Person. In the beginning, you may not have a lot of physical wealth—or at least you both think so—but that’s only because your family is literally destined to be one of the most prosperous families in the entire world (or your country, or city, at least). And your Souls know this.

Seriously, right off the bat I wanna say, the money you have is brimming with white magic and as you distribute it all around the world, you heal every single person or business entity that comes into contact with it. Can you imagine? That’s why the Universe dictates that you gain a lot of the world’s money, and with that, you and your Destined Person are always hustling. You’re working a lot. Always creating. Planning. Business tripping. Hustling non-stop, almost. You may not even be home much, unless your work can be done from home (if you’re a novel writer, for example).

In the beginning, your house is quite simple or modest (by your standards), and there’s a very gentle, serene vibe to it. It’s not a noisy home; it is your rest station—your pond of spiritual tranquillity. For some of you, there’s a possibility your first house is a generational house, maybe given to you by your parents or in-laws. There’s also a possibility your house is attached to a family business (a shop or a small restaurant, for example). Nevertheless, the home aspect of it is without a doubt tranquil.

the living room – XXI The World

As time goes by, you become richer and richer and you will either expand your house or buy a new, mega luxurious one. This is likely to be your permanent residence, or at least, you will live here mainly for a long time. But with your wealth, it is possible you have more than 2 houses😋With your primary residence, you feel complete and it’s like for the first time, you feel like you’ve made it in the world. You may begin to think about starting a family, too, at this point. Now that you have a much larger house, you also have your own dedicated office space. This allows you to continue much of your work whilst being a family person. You think this is finally a good setting for welcoming children. Also, some of you might decide to live with your parents or in-laws in this big house, too. You want to take care of them.

This house is cheery and there’s a lot of polite conversations between family members. It feels a bit serious, but not heavy. You and your Destined Person also like to talk about work; since one of you is working more from home, the other is gonna be asking, curious and be involved in the other’s creative ideas/developments. Also, you two might actually have an empire, so I see you brainstorming with your Destined Person a lot, too. It’s serious, professional, but exciting! Your entire Home Life in itself is a contribution to the prosperity of the world. You have a lot of talents and blessings to share with the world.

So much so that even your home is a workplace. Both of you will need to remind each other the importance of chilling and separating yourself from work when needed. But that might need a bit of work because the both of you are quite hardworking, to a point of being workaholics😅

And yet…

the kitchen – XV The Devil

The amazing thing is how you still manage to spend a lot of time together in the most loving, romantic fashion. Romance is far from dead in your busy lives; it is pretty much alive, more alive than anybody else’s married lives, in fact.

You meet a lot outside and try to make time for lunch or dinner together. There’s always time for each other. You ask each other how work is going; sometimes, it’s not even necessary to ask anything, sometimes it’s good to just look at each other’s faces. Sometimes, it’s good to just feel the other’s touch and warmth in those short moments you’re able to hold hands.

For some of you, it is possible that in the beginning, when you were still building your wealth, you ate out a lot because you simply didn’t have enough money (or time) to prep fresh meals. I see you and your Destined Person eating junk foods and drinking canned coffee on the sidewalk or something😝But Life is good in spite of all the need to hustle because you have faith in your future. You can see very clearly the prosperous, peaceful future you’re meant to have. Through thick and thin, you got each other and that’s all the blessing you could ever ask for🤍And you shall have more💖

Adult Things🔻💚

sense of responsibility – Red Magus (Edward Kelly)

when you get freaky – Priestess of Patience

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Feel free to support me on Patreon if you love this kind of content🍑I create stories and tarot readings that calm the mind & heal from within🍒

[Back to Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

#Punk Panda Pick A Pic #pick a card #tarot pick a card #pick a card reading #pac #tarot pac #pac reading #future spouse #tarot future spouse #future spouse reading #tarot community #free tarot readings #astroblr #tarotblr #writblr #witchblr #witchythings #manifesting #punk #culture

[antiquewhim]

I want to make information on Lithuanian folklore in English more public so I am uploading the threads that until now were only on my Twitter. I present to you a comprehensive thread on aitvarai, the ancient Lithuanian deities of the skies

(art credits: Neringa Meškauskaitė, Agroshka )

Aitvarai (etymologically "ones to appease" or "irrepressible force") are domestic creatures associated with all 4 elements: a comet of fire which harnesses wind for chaos, helping Earth and its people while being chased and punished by Perkūnas for stealing water.

Most commonly a black rooster, they can appear as a variety of creatures: different kinds of black birds, grass snakes, whirlwinds, comets and even men if they fall in love with a woman that they want to marry.

Though very powerful ancient beings, Aitvarai choose to associate themselves with people, with villagers being able to either hatch them from an egg of a 7 year old rooster or attract them by leaving out hot, untouched meals like porridge and scrambled eggs.

When part of a household, the duties of an aitvaras were to bring riches to his caretakers, either as money (money carrying aitvarai were golden, deep red or silver in coloration) or as wheat (grey and black colors). Note that aitvarai only served the poor, tricking the wealthy people who tried to use them.

Aitvarai were both a blessing and a curse: while they did bring wealth, they did it by stealing from the neighbors of their master, making them most hated in the local village. They were also clingy and dangerous to keep, burning down the houses of those who mishandled them by feeding them manure, tampering with their meals or disobeying the rules they set for the person.

It is said however that their thieving, evil nature was a characteristic given to them by the Catholic church, which wanted to demonize every pagan creature in Baltic mythology.

In fact, aitvarai were considered genuine problems by those who believed that they would steal from them: from warding off statuettes in granaries to court cases from 1700's accusing people of harboring an aitvaras (I found only one source claiming this, so take it with a grain of salt).

However, the desire to have an aitvaras was apparent as well, shown by modifications peasants would make to their homes: holes in the doors of granaries would be made so an aitvaras could enter the home easily.

Some rituals for stealing back from a flying aitvaras exist as well, ranging from simply showing it your bottom, to cutting oneself with a rusty knife, pinning the corner of your jacket to the ground, ripping or otherwise ruining clothing.

Even if the reaction of people to them was mixed, aitvarai were considered pests by the gods due to their tendency to drink/hoard water, for which they were struck dead by Perkūnas, exploding into sparks that caused forest fires, the thunder god's lightning forming ponds, holes and swamps, terraforming the earth.

#lithuania #mythology #folklore #lithuanian folklore #lithuanian mythology #aitvaras #aitvarai #eastern europe #Viltės threads

[forthegothicheroine]

I'm rereading Joanna Russ's How to Suppress Women's Writing, at the part where she talks about how even more so than today, an inequitable distribution of household labor in centuries past left married women, especially those with children with less time to devote to writing, more so if they were middle class or lower and had to do all the work personally. I'm thinking about this in regards to Mina, both in and out of universe. Mina is not a radical; her joke about the "New Woman" is gentle, but she evidently doesn't consider herself one. Nevertheless, she expresses admiration for lady journalists and very clearly enjoys writing- but always with an emphasis on how this will help Jonathan. Van Helsing and Seward admire her at her typewriter, but once again, this is for a group effort rather than her personal endeavors. Thanks to a stroke of plot convenience with Mr. Hawkins's will, she and Jonathan were left with more money than they ever expected to have, and will likely go forward with more servants, governesses, and other domestic staff than they would have had otherwise. Will Mina use this unforeseen leisure time to write?

From a Doylist perspective, Bram Stoker (hardly a feminist but not necessarily a misogynist either) can set his heroine up as clever and determined without risking her being seen as selfish or frivolous; she's not neglecting her wifely duties by writing, she's performing them! Still, even in an epistolary novel where everyone has to write at least sometimes, the three characters who seem to write the most for their own pleasure- Jonathan, Mina and Jack- are all shown as adorable intellectuals. It does seem to be a deliberate character trait.

From a Watsonian perspective, Mina probably bonded with Jonathan over their shared love of diaries and plays and train schedules. They each keep their journals, looking forward with excitement to showing them to each other. Their marriage, while unlikely to be fully egalitarian, is one they are planning to enter as partners. It's possible to imagine, years later, editing each other's writing like Mary and Percy Shelley.

It's a nice thought. For fictional characters, I can at least hope.

#dracula #re: dracula #dracula daily

[scotianostra]

Mary Somerville, the world's first scientist.

On December 26th 1780 Mathematician and scientist,Mary Somerville was born in Jedburgh.

Before Mary Sommerville came around, the word "scientist" didn't even exist.

When we think of history’s great scientists, names such as Isaac Newton, Galileo Galilei, or Nicolaus Copernicus likely come to mind. The funny thing is that the term “scientist” wasn’t coined until 1834 — well after these men had died — and it was a Scottish woman named Mary Somerville who brought it into being in the first place.

Mary Somerville was an almost entirely self-taught polymath whose areas of study included math, astronomy, and geology – just to name a few. That Somerville had such a constellation of interests, and possessed two X chromosomes, would signal a need to create a new term for someone like her — and scientific historian William Whewell would do precisely that upon reading her treatise, On the Connexion of the Physical Sciences, in 1834.

After reading the 53-year-old Somerville’s work, he wanted to pen a glowing review of it. He encountered a problem, however: The term du jour for such an author would have been “man of science,” and that just didn’t fit Somerville.

In a pinch, the well-known wordsmith coined the term “scientist” for Somerville. Whewell did not intend for this to be a gender-neutral term for “man of science;” rather, he made it in order to reflect the interdisciplinary nature of Somerville’s expertise. She was not just a mathematician, astronomer, or physicist; she possessed the intellectual acumen to weave these concepts together seamlessly.

Somerville was an intellectual giant of her age. In her mathematical and scientific pursuits, she was able to converse confidently with some of the foremost minds in the natural philosophic community (natural philosophy previously having been the name of scientific endeavour). More so, she was able to do this without attending university, instead acquiring knowledge through her own self-teaching abilities.

Growing up in a lower middle-class household in Scotland, she received a basic education — though this was not any more than was expected of a girl at the time. It was only due to her boundless curiosity in the world around her which she cultivated through various countryside excursions, and through reading the books in her father’s private library, that she was given the spark that became a lifelong love of knowledge and explanation.

As her early academic interests, perceived as boyish, were shunned in the household, she was sent to learn needlework and domestic duties (both of which she met with annoyance). She still attempted to keep up with the more extensive education that boys in her town were provided with (and indeed often surpassed them).

As a maturing young woman of 18, she was introduced into society: attending balls and spectacles in Edinburgh and dancing with nobility. She was outwardly renown as a beauty and was married in 1804 to a wealthy physician.

With her free time as a provincial housewife, she now began to study seriously and continued this after she became a widow three years later. She read the works of Newton, Laplace, Lagrange, and others scientific notables.

By her early thirties, she was solving complex problems and publishing her results in philosophical journals of the time. For this she received awards and public notoriety.

An incredible polymath, she was adept in almost all areas of scientific pursuit. Her interests were so multi-varied and her abilities so keen that she was able to become knowledgeable in mathematics, physics, chemistry, geology, geography, and astronomy, as shown in the vast scope of her publications.

Her works On the connexion of the physical sciences’ and ‘Physical Geography remained staples years after her death. She was also able to speak Latin and Ancient Greek fluently. Biographer Renee Bergland claimed that ‘she was no mere astronomer, physicist, or chemist, but a visionary thinker’, and one who surmounted daunting mental obstacles

Beyond purely academic interests, she somehow also found time to push her political beliefs and aided in the fight to improve the rights of women. John Stuart Mill presented Somerville with his 1868 parliamentary petition for women’s suffrage — of which she provided the first signature.

She eventually became an image in her own right, espousing the ability of women to improve their situation through intellectual pursuit — to gain an equal footing with men in that regard would later be intrinsic to suffragist efforts. Even more so in her long list of achievements, she was tutor to another giant of mathematical science: Ada Lovelace, a pioneering force in computer mechanics.

As shown, Somerville’s life encapsulated so diverse a litany of achievement and she should act as testament to the power of knowledge to break down barriers. Her legacy was so great that her name was given to an Oxford College, one that was among the first to allow women to attend the ancient university. Among the names of those who helped push women’s liberation, she must be ranked as one of the foremost, though this is not understate her incredible scientific achievement. Certainly, the true testament to her legacy came in her obituary which read: ‘whatever difficulty we might experience in the middle of the nineteenth century in choosing a king of science, there could be no question whatever as to The Queen of Science.

#scotland #scottsih #polymath #scientist #history #strong woman

[sofoulandfairaday]

do you think the blacks had sexist beliefs? Do you think Sirius and Regulus did?

This is a very interesting question, especially because purebloods are often portrayed with very Victorian beliefs in fanfiction, which can only be partly inferred from the original books. I think that it was in the author's intentions to create a more equal society: there have been several female Ministers for Magic, for example, and in general magic would naturally be an equalizer, since it does not manifest differently in men and women in the books. However, the single female characters portrayed in the books, especially the adult ones, do not lend themselves well to this interpretation. Most of them exist inside very domestic settings - be it a school or a household - and the books promote Being A Mother as the pinnacle of womanhood.

(Which is coincidentally one of the reasons why I don't really love the existence of Delphi outside fanfiction. Bellatrix's sort of love is portrayed - in most literal, on-the-nose way possible - as the antithesis to maternal love. Making her yet another mother in the story undermines her character to me. But this is a whole other post.)

On top of that, the Blacks are very obviously conservative and aristocratic. So. As for the older Blacks (Walburga, Orion, and that whole generation), yes. Definitely yes. Perhaps in different ways, I think the wizarding world's brand on sexism would very much be interwoven with blood supremacy and seeing witches as the keepers of the blood, and the morals of a household, and that it is their very duty to marry and especially to produce heirs (pureblood babies! especially since those families seem to be fairly infertile). A woman who tries to escape that would be seen very badly, in my opinion.

As for Sirius and Regulus. Regulus' politics - sorry Reggie girlies - were very much conservative. And I refuse to believe that he didn't have mommy issues. I hc him as gay, honestly, and it is for the best because he would realistically be a bad boyfriend/husband. I cannot imagine him ever standing up to defend a possible wife to Walburga (or even Bellatrix) in a family dinner setting or the like - and any wife of his would suffer hell. Imagine marrying into the Black family as a woman and having them as in-laws. You would never be good enough. His wife would be chosen for him - pure of blood, someone worthy of producing heirs, and he probably wanted someone to take care of him in the way mommy never did. This poor hypothetical girl would have an additional child. In general, I think his views on women wouldn't be incredibly backwards but not even progressive. He'd be okay with you as long as you were the right kind of woman.

As for Sirius. He was a man born to an aristocratic british family in 1959. Make of that what you will. Sexism was just another of the prejudices he tried to unlearn during his lifetime - and meeting women like Lily, or his other non-pureblood female friends in Gryffindor, that would have definitely heard of the Women's Rights Movement and would have probably been feminists themselves - would have definitely helped. But it's hard for anyone (women included) to let go of all internal biases. He'd definitely still be the type to call a woman he dislikes a bitch, for example. Did he stand up of the common room table and give feminist rants on reproductive rights? Probably not. Did he fundamentally believe in equality and appreciated/supported strong women? Definitely.

TLDR: yes, in an appropriate way for age & setting. They were complex characters and their views on women probably reflected their overall politics. Regulus is part of a group of people who see society as divided into classes, where everyone gets assigned a role. Sirius was the opposite. Also, most people hold some sexist beliefs nowadays, in 2023, and I don't like imposing that sort of morality on fictional characters living in the 1990s.

#asks #answered #hp meta #sirius black #regulus black #bellatrix black #bellatrix lestrange #walburga black #the noble and most ancient house of black #hp fandom

[glasskey]

The Boston Globe Episodes

Today I’m going to talk about The Boston Globe episode and how it paved the way for Nick, June and Holly’s journey. The Boston Globe episode is a powerful statement about the break down of truth in the face of dictatorships, and the threat of it in current political climates. In regards to the future of these characters, the episodes featuring the Boston Globe are extremely pivotal.

It’s telling that Nick and June spend the first 3 months of their babies life together at the now haunted and abandoned Boston Globe. Its the place where knowledge and truth once flowed and it’s where we truly begin to see how Holly is used as a vehicle to tell a larger tale. Here the printing presses are all painted in handmaids red, nooses hand from the rafters and bullet holes punctuate the walls like the final word in the resistance. It’s no coincidence that Holly undergoes her most formative months in this broken down home of free knowledge and information, as she will be fundamental to the restoration of democracy to her country.

It’s also the place where Nick and June begin to truly fall in love with one another. Nick and June have sex, at last unrestrained by the boundaries of the Waterford household, and there’s a lustful abandonment to it bred by years of captivity. We’re finally given a glimpse into their somewhat free life away from Gilead. Blaine’s always been somewhat of an enigma, stoic, dutiful and domesticated. But here in the semi free world we see the layers are almost instantly stripped away, he becomes immediately emotional and vulnerable….years of service have suffocated him.

These are their child’s most developmental months and it is the most formative moments of their relationship, where their feelings grow into a lasting bond. By the time she returns to the Waterfords, their child is well on its way to being fully formed, just as is her relationship with Nick. By the time their child is born, their bond will be forged and they will love each other entirely. It’s no coincidence that when Nick is married off to Eden, June almost miscarries.

June wanders around the secret location dressed in Blaine’s clothes, she’s in her first trimester, she’s wearing the t shirt she took off him the first night they were together and very possibly the night they conceived Holly. His clothes act like some kind of personal shield, it’s the best he can do in his absence. Later as she makes the Globe her home, she jogs between the small cities of presses to a shrine she has erected, an assortment of mementos and photographs from the surrounding desks. Just like the Handmaids letters, she intends to keep their stories alive, their voices heard.

Upstairs she gathers old editions and pieces together the story of the The Sons of Jacob and their rise to power. As Holly grows in her womb, rebellion grows in her heart and June returns to the Waterfords with a crystalized intent to destroy Gilead. Nick looks at the wall of clippings reconstructing his past and begins to truly understand, this is the moment when Blaine’s loyalties truly turned. He tries to convince her to go, he’s understandably worried about her future and the future of his unborn child….he should be, it’s a girl.

The two share a morning cup of coffee and there’s the facade of a normalcy as we get a glimpse of Nick and June as a couple in the real world. “If I wake you then you leave, how is that a win for me?” She asks him. Atwood’s text describes June as no longer wanting to leave Nick, June’s caught in a dream from which she no longer wishes to wake. The rare moment of domesticity in this moment is so brief, but overflowing with contentment. Just a flash and then it’s gone, like all the other precious moments of peace these two get.

#june osborne #hulu streaming #june x nick #max minghella #nick x june #nick blaine #osblaine #elisabeth moss #bruce miller #the handmaid's tale #handmaid's tale #handmaid's on hulu #hulu tv #s2 #margaret atwood #tv series

[whalesforhands]

dyf aftermath

basically everything that happens after the canon dyf au. why is it surprising that most of it has smut LOL. (not in any specific order)

what am i reading on kofi?

KOFI epilogue

meeting nanami, haibara, riko, kuroi

domesticity and groceries

the first years of jujutsu high! -> KOFI extra

what if you get another set of twins? -> KOFI twins (extra!)

arguments?

the gojo-geto’s household playtime!

mini headcanons (NSFW)

mini headcanons pt.2 (NSFW + softer)

can't help myself (SMUT)

scars and traces (LIGHT NSFW)

mediator duties (LIGHT SMUT) (KOFI mission... success? (NSFW) )

giving gojo too many kisses

KOFI onsens and fulfillment (SMUT)

KOFI day offs and busy afternoons (SMUT)

KOFI dates and discussions

KOFI bets and losses (SMUT)

KOFI cat ears and photographs (light nsfw)

KOFI late-night snacks and early breakfasts

KOFI summer days and the heat haze (special)

KOFI observation diary of your (almost) villainous husband!

KOFI phonecall (NSFW, phone...calls...)

KOFI don't look too closely (light nsfw, um... videos/pictures during the hanky panky implied)

[awkward-sultana]

"From the middle of the fifteenth century, and possibly earlier, when a prince left the capital for his provincial governorate, he was accompanied by his mother, whose role was to preside over the prince's domestic household and perform her duty of 'training and supervision' alongside the prince's tutor." - The Imperial Harem: Women and Sovereignty in the Ottoman Empire (Studies in Middle Eastern History) by Leslie P. Peirce

#Muhteşem Yüzyıl #Magnificent Century #mcedit #kosemedit #Muhtesem Yuzyil kosem #magnificent century kosem #Muhteşem Yüzyıl Kösem #weloveperioddrama #perioddramaedit #period drama #perioddrama #historical drama #historyedit #Muhtesem Yuzyil #Magnificent Century: Kösem #mc: kosem #Hurrem Sultan #Kosem Sultan #Mahidevran Sultan #The Years Pass #I Will Rule the World #The Lion the wolf and the lamb #The Murdered Mother #Awkward-Sultana