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#they say it like the name mary. like ‘marry us’
majorshatterandhare · 6 months
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Apparently my brain really hates when names have A, U, and R in them, because without fail, every time I go to type Arthur my brain wants to spell it “Aurthur” or perhaps “Aurthr” and every time I go to type Marius my brain wants to type “Mauris” or maybe “Maurius” or maybe “Maurias” its unclear because I *usually* notice my mistake by the end because it’s clear to me those ending are wrong. Brain just really wants “AUR” together.
#if you see me misspell those names. that’s why#also im american so i default to pronouncing marius— hang on let me look up some IPA symbols#i pronounce is with this vowel ‘ɑ’ which is the open back unrounded vowel#where as they seem to pronounce it with the ‘e’ symbol which is an english (or at least am english) long a sound.#they say it like the name mary. like ‘marry us’#reasons english needs either more vowel symbols or accent marks#also i am aware the ipa vowels are fucked up but its still the best ive got because even in the same language there are accents and-#dialects and that makes examples hard. i also learned recently that british and australian english has actual long an short vowels.#i knew american english didnt have strut (inverted v) but i didnt know- i mean i kinda did because i had noticed it but like not fully-#understood it. anyway if youve read this far you should go watch dr geoff lindsey on youtube hes great#to be clear we have ‘long’ and ‘short’ vowel sounds in am english. but ‘long’ and ‘short’ are just names. the actual length that we say-#them is apparently basically the same. at least when compared with br and au english.#dr geoff lindsey *just* published a video about this. re: how br and au eng speakers say ‘two o’clock’ and ‘four o’clock’ as significantly-#different lengths. while am english speakers say them the same length. he also touches on a bunch of other interesting stuff#im not gonna fandom tag this i guess#i think its funny though that its arthur and marius since they are both voiced by the same person#oh also i think all IPA symbols should have special names like eng. schwa. and strut. rather than having to be called shit like ‘open back-#unrounded vowel.’ although i do realize that theres a fuck tonne of ipa symbols. i also think each of the names should have the sound it-#represents in it.#im autistic about pronunciation somehow. arent i supposed to be in the… *other* sciences. how did this happen?
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nikkisheep · 10 months
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To Be Alone With You
Anthony Bridgerton x female!Sharma!reader
Warnings: Smut, TENSION, cursing, oral (f), reader is Kate's full sister, kissing, touching when not supposed to, Anthony and his voice (warning himself), virgin reader (innocent ofc), sex on a dock (lol), kinda public sex, slight angst
I am so sorry that it got so long but it is so worth it. This is also my first Bridgerton fic so hope its good. :)
Summary: It was time that Anthony Bridgerton to finally meet the final Sharma sister who may stand in his way of marrying Miss Edwina Sharma but not like he expected her to.
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Anthony Bridgerton was a man who was used to having any woman melt and cling to his every word. Women practically threw themselves at his feet the moment he walked in the room. His presence was a strong one, making everyone eager to please the viscount.
When Viscount Bridgerton met Edwina Sharma, the newly named "Diamond of the Season", he was happy that he could find at least one woman with half a brain. Miss Edwina was the suitable bride and soon Viscountess. It was almost too easy, so he thought. That was until he met the elder sister of Miss Edwina. Kate Sharma, a woman of one and twenty who was unwed herself, was a challenge that Anthony could not refuse. He fell into a pursuit to win over the eldest Sharma sister, doing everything by the book. Well, with a few exceptions.
The Viscount did not want a love match. He could never fall in love with the woman who will bear his children. He just couldn't. And Miss Edwina Sharma was exactly the woman who he could not possibly love but, she would make a wonderful bride for him to breed and come to have a heir to fill the Viscount role when Anthony died.
A last, his mother, Viscountess Violet Bridgerton, had invited the Sharma family to visit the lovely Aubrey Halls. It would be Mrs. Mary Sharma, the lovely girls' mother, Miss Edwina Sharma and then Miss Kate Sharma. Anthony was ready to deal with Kate when she arrived.
---
Dinner was being served when the thunder started. Benedict seemed like he had lost his mind, no doubt had drank Colin's tea that he brought from his travels.
"Have you noticed, Col?" Benedict asked, "The twinkles of the candles, it is as....as if we sit among the stars."
Eloise snorted and looked to her older brother, "What is wrong with you?''
"I was just telling Benedict how brilliant the stars were in Greece," answered Colin.
Benedict went to take a sip of his wine but knocked it over, causing Violet and the other ladies to gasp at the table. The brother smiled and rubbed his hands over his cheeks in an innocent way.
"Lord Bridgerton, Miss Sharma here," A butler said.
"Whatever do you mean, Miss Sharma is here? How many are there?"
In just a few seconds a woman walks in, wearing the similar purple dress that the Sharma sisters were wearing. She looked identical to Kate, except her eyes were lighter. Her hair was more brown than black and she held her head high. Her presence was enough to even sober up Benedict for a moment.
"Is it just me or is there two Kates?" Benedict said, mind foggy.
"I am so sorry for my late arrival. Lady Bridgerton, the house is lovely." The woman said.
Violet blushed and thanked the woman. The older woman always enjoyed getting compliments about her home that she shared with Edmund.
"You said you couldn't make it," Edwina states as she moves to hug the woman. Everyone was confused as a goose until Kate stood up.
"This is my sister," Kate said, moving to stand by her.
You introduce yourself and smile at everyone, that is until you see Anthony. He had this look about him and you couldn't quite tell.
"I assume this is the viscount you were telling me about, Kate?" You said.
"Yes, this is Lord Bridgerton. He is the viscount and is to marry Edwina."
You looked at him and he just smirked. He had found a new toy to play with. And god did he want to play.
You looked at him.
"My lord, forgive me for my tartiness," You say, voice rich.
"All is forgiven, my lady." He had a hard look.
"Please, I am hardly a noble lady to earn that title,'' You tease.
Anthony was taken by surprise, no one had ever teased about their noblity or anything. Being a proper lady is very serious and not taken lightly. There was another Sharma sister, but at least this one seemed nice. For now.
---
You were quite the most annoying and challenging lady Anthony had the misery to meet. You talked too much, you jested a bit, your teasing with Benedict made his blood boil. Your words melting off your tongue and practically bringing Anthony's younger brother to his knees.
Benedict's face had blushed right before you move to rest your hand on his shoulder.
"My dear, Benedict, how are you?" You asked kindly, flashing that beautiful smile that made everyone melt.
"I am quite well, Miss Sharma." He looked down right flustered with your presence beside him.
Lady Bridgerton held a small ball at Aubrey Hall and Benedict had just finished dancing with you. The two of you had swept through the floor, everyone in envy that Mr. Bridgerton's attention was solely on you.
"Brother, I hate to steal our guest from you but I am in need of a dance," Anthony stepped in to say.
"I suppose that I have one dance in me," You laughed.
"I hadn't asked yet," Anthony said.
"Well, in that case, Benedict you wouldn't mind having yet another dance with me?" You smirked when Anthony rolled his eyes and groaned.
Once you got on the dance floor, Anthony could not keep his eyes off you, even as he danced with Edwina and Kate.
"My brother seems to be taking a liking to you," Benedict smiled.
"Please, he wants to marry my sister. After all, who even said I wanted him. Maybe I want you," You whisper the last part in his ear. He shudders against you and smiles.
"Is that true now, Miss Sharma?"
"Perhaps."
----
Pall Mall was the ruthless game that the Bridgerton's ever played. The Mallet of Death sat in your hands as Benedict had handed it to you with a wink and a sly smile. You blushed at the brother's antics.
He moved to be closer to you and whispered something in your ear which made you snort aloud and Kate looked at you with a raised eyebrow.
"Who has my bloody mallet?" Anthony's voice boomed in the air.
"My lord, I do not know," Kate smirked.
"Where is it?"
You coughed to clear your throat, suddenly bringing the Viscount's attention to you. That might have been a bad idea. It surely was.
"You...You have my mallet, I believe."
"I do?" You inquired.
"Yes, Miss Sharma, you do."
"Well, I suppose that I could just give it to you," You start to hand it to him, his siblings surprised at how easy you were giving it up, and Anthony was smiling, "But first you will have to catch me." You took off running down the field and Anthony just watched in surprise.
"Did she?"
"I believe she did," Daphne laughed. She watched as her older brother looked as if he wanted to blow up.
"Dear brother, I think you should go get her if that mallet is very important to you." Colin laughed as Anthony ran down the field, looking for you as the Mallet of Death rested in your possession.
He ran looking for you and he heard your sweet giggle coming from in the garden. He looked to see that everyone had given up on waiting for them and started the match without the two of you. He walked around the garden to find you crouching behind a hedge and was covering your mouth as you looked around the side of the bush, hoping to not be seen.
His boots moved to quietly as he stalked closer to your frame. He then grabbed your waist and picked you up, causing you to gasp into his hand.
"Lord Bridgerton, put me down this instant."
He placed you down on the ground and stands close to your body. His warmth and scent poured over you in waves. He smelt like sweat, dirt, body wash, slight scent of vanilla, and sandalwood?
"Lord Bridger-"
"Anthony, my name is Anthony." He said, panting at the closeness that he had created.
"My lord-"
"Anthony."
"My lord, it is improper to call you by your given name," You say, trying to catch your breath and not breathe his scent in.
"And us being in my mother's garden alone is very improper, I dare say, Miss Sharma."
Your smell floods his senses when he takes a deep breath and move closer to you, chests touching. The smell of dirt, sweat, lilies and Jasmine? God, it drove him crazy. Just being around you drove him crazy.
"You followed me here.''
"You ran here."
"You chased me."
"You took my mallet."
"I-" You stutter, "Benedict gave it to me."
He looks at you with something dark in his eyes, something that burned with fiery. His hand came to touch your waist and you nearly melt. He looks at your chest, noticing that you were wearing the Bridgerton color. You normally wore purple but you were wearing the baby blue that stood for his family.
"You are wearing my family color," He says, blood rushing some where it did not need to be.
"Oh, I had not known that I wasn't allowed to wear blue."
"It stands for my family and you...are...wearing...my...color."
His body presses closer to you, invading your space. He moves to corner you against the tall hedge, the only thing keeping your situation from any on lookers.
His mouth moves to rest beside your ear, hot breath fanning over the exposed skin there, goosebumps rising on your skin.
"You want something, I can sense it."
You shudder.
"And what would that be, my lord?"
"You want me," He said lowly.
"You are to marry Edwina," You correct him.
"That doesn't change that you desire me," He chuckles at your attempt.
"I beg your pardon. You are a rake and I have no desire for such a person like you. You are to marry my sister, not me. If you wish to be with my sister than act like it, if not then leave her alone. I will not be some play thing for you to play with when you want to."
"Oh but you are my play toy. You are whatever I want you to be. Do you know why?" He asked.
"Why?"
"Because all I have to do is whisper real close to your ear, like this," He moved even closer, "And tell you that I desire you in ways that would make any mama blush and cry out for improper topics to a lady."
You take in a ragged breath.
"Desire me?"
"Yes, why do you think I came out here to get you?"
"To get your mallet?"
"No, so I can have you."
" You are courting my sister to marry. I am done with this topic and I am leaving this garden. Good day, Lord Bridgerton."
---
Anthony was reeling. He couldn't stop thinking about you. He can't sleep at night because of you. It wasn't your fault. No, it was your fault. You were the one who kept reminding him of his soon to be proposal to your sister and putting him in his place. Heavens above, he couldn't help but be aroused when you put him where he was meant to be. And that perfume that you have, Jasmine and Lillies, god it did things to him.
---
The day had been hot, very hot and you knew that you shouldn't but you were burning for a swim in the lake. You couldn't help it. After being in the garden with the Viscount, it felt you aflame.
Sneaking out of your chambers, you made your way outside to the lake that rested toward the trees.
Looking around, you made sure that no one was up and you were making sure that you were not followed. You made your way to a tree and took off your coat. Yo began your task of unbuttoning your gown.
Anthony watched you remove each piece of fabric from your body as he made his way down to the lake himself. He had not known that you were going to be here. He had not expected it. He always goes for a midnight swim when he couldn't sleep. Why he couldn't sleep? You.
Slipping onto the dock, you take a dive, cold water enveloping your body. It felt heavenly against your heated skin. Anthony was never to be allowed to know that he was the reason behind the midnight swim in the lake. You swam to the middle and was sighing while looking up to the moon. The entire lake was lit by the moon, banishing all shadows from being cast onto your face. You looked angelic.
Anthony slipped in the water after stripping completely bare and went underwater. He wanted to see you move about when you were by yourself. He had wanted to see you nude, part of his mind begging him to see what you looked like, but you were still a lady and he was a gentleman.
You heard a splash and you turned around very quickly, spotting none other than Anthony Bridgerton. You knew you were caught and he would laugh at you but he just swam closer. You could only see his shoulders and water was dripping down them to be collected back to the lake.
"My lord-"
"I do believe that we are now way past formalities," He chuckled.
He was silently begging to hear his name fall from your lips. He knew this was wrong. You were his betrothed sister. You were a lady. You were innocent. If he took that from you, you would be ruined. But...but you looked so desirable. You looked just ready to be ravished by his mouth. To be tasted in places that you had never thought of to be touched. To be submitted to such incredible pleasure that Anthony knew that he could bring you. To be his.
He swam closer to you, grabbing your hand which he used to pull you until you were placing your hands on his shoulders to hold onto. You gasped at how warm he still was, even in the chilled water of the night. Anthony looked at you, smiling when he realizes that you move even closer, your legs brushing every time you move to keep yourselves afloat.
"I want you," He admits.
He kisses your lips, groaning when you kiss back only for a second before he feels himself being pushed away from you.
"You are engaged to my sister," You say.
"Not yet."
"But-"
"But, I want you. I don't want Edwina. I don't want Kate. I want you," He says, "I desire you."
Anthony kissed your lips once more, swallowing any sound coming from your mouth. His tongue brushed yours and you moaned. You had never done that but with Anthony, you felt so good you couldn't keep it inside.
Anthony had you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling something quite odd in between his legs but you didn't question it when he took your breast into his awaiting mouth. He sucked your nipple and ran his tongue around it as he teased you mercilessly. Your hair was down so it was hanging in the water as you threw your head back in bliss as he moved to bite at your collarbones and neck.
Anthony moved the two of you all the way to the dock, picking you up out of the water and seating you directly onto the hard wood. He then watches as you move back, suddenly aware of how exposed you are to him. He puts his hands on the dock and pushes himself out of the water, droplets trickling down his slightly hairy chest down to his now every noticeable something. You didn't know what on earth it could even be.
"What is that?" You said shyly, pointing to his hips.
"That would be my cock." He just chuckled.
"It looks hard," You said, "does it hurt?"
He groaned at your innocence. God, you were going to be the death of him. You looked so nervous to even ask and then when you did, you blushed deeply. You were so cute.
"It hurts some times when I desire someone really bad," He explained.
"Like Edwina? Did it ever hurt for Edwina or Kate?" You asked softly.
"No, never with them. I want you," He said, holding your face, "God, you consume every thought that I make. You make it so, so hard to be a gentleman. There is no way that I can escape you, no matter how hard I try because you are always in my mind."
He kissed you once more and you let him. You were going to forget about Edwina, who the man currently moving in between your legs and kissing every inch of your body, was supposed to get married to. You were going to forget the rules of being a proper lady. You were going to forget formalities and just revel in the pleasure that is being caused by the mouth of your sister's soon to be betrothed.
"Anthony!" You cried when he made contact with the little bud between your folds and he licked it. Your body was shot with electricity that sent your back to be arching.
He hummed against your core and went back to sucking on your clit. No one or nothing could have prepared you for the Viscount's tongue to slip inside of you. He had done so when you were pulling on his hair as you grasped for anything but you could not find anything to ground you. Anthony swept you away in pure pleasure as he ate you like a starved man. He drank anything your body was willing to give and he took it with a groan. His eyes rolled back as he tasted you.
"Oh, my lord-"
"It's Anthony. Just Anthony," He said before staring at your weeping cunt.
Your hands pulled at the man's hair and his other hand, that wasn't holding down your hips, moved up to grab a hold of your free hand that was gripping your breast. Your back arched when he made one last circle with his tongue on your clit and you burst with carnal desire. You shook against Anthony's mouth as he drank you in.
He thought you were so beautiful laying out for him, under the stars on his dock, wet hair after a late night swim and most of all, the way the moon shone down on you. You looked ever so innocent but oh so dirty.
"Are you okay?" He asked when he noticed you not moving but still shaking.
"I'm more than okay."
He laughed and began kissing up your body. His tongue poked out every once and a while as he traveled up to your mouth. The taste of yourself was erotic. You had never known something could exist. Anthony moved on top of you and positioned himself so that his cock would rest between your sensitive folds. He had to contain himself so that he wouldn't cum right on the spot.
You gave him a nod before he claimed your lips as he pushed himself inside your waiting body. You moaned out loud before you started panting against Anthony's mouth as the two of you tried to adjust to the sudden feeling. His arms shook as his head fell onto your chest as your hand ran through his hair, pulling slightly.
"Are you ready for me to move because if you aren't that's okay but I really need to move?" Water trickled down his body as he held himself above you, looking down at you.
"Please, Anthony." He smiled at his name and started to slowly pull out, letting you feel every ridge and vein his dick possessed and you were enjoying it. Anthony thrusted back in and your head fell back against the wooden dock. As Anthony thrusted his cock in and out of you, the only things that could be heard was your labored breathing and the sounds of your bodies moving against each other as the two of you reached new heights together and the sound of crickets chirping in the grass.
"Oh, god you feel so good," Anthony groaned.
"So fucking good," You panted, hips rising to match his. You were chasing something but you didn't know what. You didn't even know what was happening when your muscles started to tighten and some kind of euphoria started to crash down on you.
Anthony's breathing got caught in his throat as he watched your face contort in pleasure as he pumped himself constantly in you, trying to reach his end. He looked at your blissful face and decided that you would give him another.
"Just one more, darling, and then I can fill you up real nice." His hand went in between your legs as he watched himself move inside and out of you. His thumb began circling your clit, his cock hitting the right spots every time, his face tightening in desirable lust as he held himself above you, moving faster, trying to make you cum for a third time before he got his.
"Oh, Anthony!" You moan before he places a kiss on your lips to silence you. You cum one last time and Anthony unloads himself completely in you once bottoming out inside you. You laid there with him as he felt the aftershocks of his orgasm and you shuddered at the sudden cold.
Anthony kisses you lazily as he feels you giggle against his lips when he sighs into you. He pulls out and then shudders at the cold.
"I think we should go get some nice warm milk and sit by the fire to warm up," He proposes.
"Won't we get caught?"
"Darling, we just had sex on the dock in front of my house and you are worried about getting caught with some milk by the fire?" He laughed.
"Well, I can't be seen with you alone."
"Fine, but let's get dressed and go inside so we can sleep."
"In the same room?" You ask in a quiet voice.
"Not yet. We might get caught."
"Maybe getting caught wouldn't be so bad then," You giggle when you see his bare ass.
"Oh you are a little minx," Anthony groans.
"Maybe," You gasp when he picks you up after you get dressed and then carries you inside.
He takes you to your room and puts you down so you can stand. He doesn't want to let go but he knows he needs to leave soon.
''Good night, Miss Sharma." He said with a kiss.
"Good night, Lord Bridgerton," You sigh against his lips.
The kiss is passionate but is cut short when the clock decided to strike three and make a loud noise. You both laugh and he sees you close the door and he then walks to his chambers.
He finally can go to sleep with a smile on his face. A smile that didn't disappear the following day until he realized that he had to propose to your sister, Edwina Sharma.
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biceratops7 · 2 years
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I just-
the way that queerness actually is shown fairly historically accurate in the show but not to the point where the lgbt community feels like 1-dimensional victims instead of people. The world is still the same as ours, Homophobia is there, it’s just… quiet. It’s not constant aggressive action, or violence permeating every moment of their lives… it’s the background noise.
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It’s in the bullying Stede endures for not performing the ideal masculine, but it’s also the simple expectation and eventually enforcement that he’ll marry a woman. It’s in “anything goes at sea” and the calm, almost practiced defensiveness that prompted such a statement. The small confirmation that Hornigold would lose his mind at Ed having breakfast at a table every morning with Stede.
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It’s not just seen in queer sorrow but community as well, even joy. How Lucius looks after Jim, Stede, and Ed once their queerness is known to him. How Ed kisses Stede in a quiet place away from expected public, the refusal to discuss Blackbeard further when the truth of being “lovely” to another man garners unsavory looks. In the best circumstances, protecting one another in a world that isn’t built for us is like breathing.
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It even comes from people with no ill intentions. Mary doesn’t mean anything by “what’s her name?” but it tells us something anyway, about the world these characters inhabit. About which ones can step comfortably through it, and which ones must think carefully before even revealing they lack such luxury. The quiet understanding in tossing a stone in that perfect path by saying “his name is Ed.” It means something that she reacts in surprise, pleasant surprise, but surprise none the less.
It’s not a show without homophobia, but it’s not a show about it either. It manifests in the narrative the same way it does for most of us day to day: the white noise of heteronormativity.
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little-diable · 10 days
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My Greatest Fear - Dean Winchester (smut)
Don't say I didn't warn y'all. Inspired by Benson Boone's new song "My Greatest Fear". Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Dean broke things off with the reader years ago, the biggest mistake of his life. But when Sam tells his brother that (y/n) is getting married, Dean knows it's time to make things right. He won't leave this life behind without being able to call her his once again.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, ex-lovers to lovers, some angst, lots of fluff tho, reader is a runaway bride
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (3k words)
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Got a lot on my mind that keeps me up at night, I’m tossing and turning, thinking that my life’s gone to waste
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Dean shot the waitress a big smile as she placed his breakfast down, blushing as the handsome man winked at her. The older Winchester brother was too focused on his food to pick up on the uneasiness radiating off Sam, to focus on the sadness swimming in his brother’s pupils. 
“Fuck, that’s good.” Dean’s moans rumbled through him as he ate the greasy deliciousness, sipping on his coffee every now and then. It took him a while to lift his gaze, to allow his green eyes to focus on Sam’s untouched breakfast, forcing Dean’s eyebrows to furrow in confusion. “Not hungry? Shouldn’t you eat something after a long run?” 
“Mhm,” Sam’s eyes were focused on the window, unable to look at his brother any longer. His heart clenched in his chest, his mind was racing faster than it had in the past months, struggling to part his lips. 
“Sam,” Dean’s raspy voice forced Sam’s eyes back towards his older brother, unable to hold eye contact for long. “What’s wrong?” 
Dean had put down his breakfast burger while taking another sip of coffee. He patiently waited for Sam to speak, to spill whatever was visibly plaguing him. But Sam kept quiet, deeply inhaling as if he had to muster the strength to speak. Dean repeated his brother’s name, much quieter this time around, gentle almost – as if he had finally realised that whatever Sam was about to speak would hurt them both. 
“I received an email this morning.” It was a whisper, nothing more, words so obscurely simple that Dean couldn’t help but laugh. But Sam didn’t give in, killing Dean’s hope that Sam was simply fucking with him. Something heavy was about to claw through Sam, something heavy that could determine the outcome of this very day. “It was from Mary, (y/n)’s sister.”
Now it was on Dean to freeze, not expecting his brother to speak her name. Their eyes met, urging Sam to keep on speaking, to tell his brother about the email he had opened with shaky fingers, freezing in his step as he read the words she had written to him. 
“(Y/n)’s getting married, Dean.” Sam was forced to watch Dean sink back into the seat, arms crossed in front of his chest, uneasy eyes staring down at the table. And for a moment, neither of them spoke, letting the words sink in – words that had been Dean’s greatest fear ever since he had left her all these years ago. 
He had been stupid back then, too childish for his own good. Guided by his father’s words, he had dropped (y/n) and the life they could have lived together. His father had made pretty promises, telling his young son of women awaiting him, women he shouldn’t miss out on because of a marriage that would only tie him to (y/n), away from all the fun he could experience. The greatest mistake of his life, a mistake he hated himself for every single day. 
“That’s good for her. I’m happy she found somebody who treats her right.” The words pained Dean to speak, rolling off his tongue with a sharp edge that left Sam cringing. His hand found Dean’s forearm, gently squeezing his brother’s arm in a gesture so unfamiliar, Dean had to stop himself from shaking off Sam’s hand. 
“Dean, I’ve always loved her like a sister, I only want what’s best for her. But you’re my brother, I know how much not having her around scars you, I see it every day on your face. Get her back, try it at least.” 
Of all the things that I've been afraid to lose, my greatest fear of all is losing you
……
“I shouldn’t do this.” They were parked in front of the small church, eyes watching the big crowd of unfamiliar faces. Both Dean and Sam were wearing a suit, knowing that they had to blend in with the wedding guests to find their way to (y/n). “Why should she take me back? Why should she even listen to me?”
“Dean, if there is one thing I know it’s that she still loves you. Let’s get your girl back.” Sam was first to step out into the warm morning, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses as they walked up to the crowd. He felt Dean close, not daring to speak up with his choked-up throat, with his heart pounding in his chest, knowing that this would be his only shot to make things right for once in his life. 
“Mary!” Sam’s voice echoed through the air, eyes focused on the frame of (y/n)’s sister. The young woman flung herself into Sam’s open arms, chuckling into his neck as he held her close for a moment. A moment too long for Dean who was growing more antsy with every passing second. 
“Thank you for coming. She’s making a mistake, Sam. You’re my only hope with this.” The words left Dean frozen, confused eyes flickering between his brother and Mary. He hadn’t read the email Mary had sent to Sam, hadn’t asked any further questions about the man (y/n) was about to marry, trusting that he was somebody she loved. “Come, I’ll bring you to her.”
“What the fuck man?” Dean growled the words at Sam as he followed them through the crowd and towards a small house built near the church. Sam fell into pace with his brother, watching Mary lead them towards the place where (y/n) was currently getting ready. 
“Well, you didn’t think I’d let you do this without knowing (y/n) would willingly leave her fiancé, did you? I wouldn’t destroy her happiness just like that, Dean.” Realistically, Dean should have known that Sam wouldn’t just push him into this without knowing that there was a chance to get her back. Sam had hated him for a while after he had left (y/n), punishing Dean for breaking her heart at any given chance, a broken bond that had needed months to be repaired. 
“(Y/n)? I brought two special guests.” Mary’s voice echoed through the small cabin, ringing in the brother’s ears as they waited outside. Dean felt his hands tremble, forced to let go of deep exhales as Mary opened the door for them, allowing them to step inside. His eyes were drawn to (y/n)’s like a moth to a flame, and his world stopped spinning, unable to focus on anything but her.
It took (y/n) a second to react, seemingly confused about the appearance of the two hunters she hadn’t seen in years. She was pulled into a hug by Sam, giving Dean another moment to admire her, the white dress she wore – a sight he had only seen in his dreams, imagining this very day, with him waiting at the altar for her. Dreams that had evaporated into a hazy nothingness the day he had left her. 
“Hi, sweetheart.” She sank into Dean’s grasp, clinging to him as if he hadn’t been the man who had broken her heart all these years ago. He watched his brother and Mary leave the cabin, giving the two some time alone as they kept on holding one another. 
“What are you doing here, Dean?” (Y/n) mumbled the words against the fabric of his suit jacket, not caring about smudging her make-up, not caring about anything but the way Dean held her close – as if he hadn’t ever stopped holding her. Carefully, Dean let her go, needing to give them some distance for the words he was about to speak, knowing that this could escalate any moment now. 
“I can’t let you marry another man without telling you that leaving you was my greatest mistake. A life without you has always been my biggest fear, I was stupid, so fucking stupid, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have listened to Dad, I should have married you right that day. And I hate myself for not doing it, for letting you go when you have always been my whole world. I know there is no chance for me to make things right, and even though Sammy and Mary hope that I will sweep you off of your feet and bring you back home to us, I know I can’t.” Tears dripped from her eyes, tears (y/n) didn’t care to wipe away. 
“I hated you for years, you broke me, Dean. You took away my life, my friends, the people I had grown to love. You ripped my heart right out of my chest, and even though I tried to fight for it, to regain its strength, I miserably failed. I should curse you, should tell you to fuck off and never show your face to me again. But I can’t. For Christ’s sake, Dean. What are we doing here?” He cupped her face with shaking fingers, letting his forest-green eyes run over her gorgeous face. 
“I want to kill him for getting a chance to love you, time that has been wasted because of me. But I don’t want to take another choice from you. If you want to marry him, I will watch from the first row, hell, I’ll even carry your veil.” His voice shook as he whispered the words, growing tense as (y/n) rested her hands on top of his, still cupping her cheeks.
“And if I don’t want to marry him?” 
……
I'm scared to take another picture of you, 'cause I'm scared to have another thing that I can lose, oh, dear, who am I without you here?
“I thought you were taking me home, where are we going?” Her laughter echoed through Baby, eyes set on Dean’s grinning features. They had left the church a while ago, running away like she had secretly hoped they would. (Y/n) had always been a dreamer, a dreamer who had pictured that very moment since the day it had dawned on her – about to marry a man she didn’t love. A man who wasn’t Dean Winchester. 
“We’ve got another thing to take care of first, I am not losing any more time.” Baby screeched to a halt in front of a pink church, a sight that left (y/n) confused, and Dean and Sam chuckling. They made their way into the church, with her fingers interlaced with Dean’s, with her white wedding gown clinging to her frame, with his suit hugging his frame. 
“Dean, Sam, I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you two around here!” An elderly man greeted them with a big smile. His brown eyes were drawn to (y/n)’s almost instantly, with a knowing smile growing on his lips – a smile that had an almost proud touch to it. “That’s her, huh? Took you quite some time, didn’t it.” “(Y/n), that’s Danny, an old friend of ours we met on a hunt. He could wed us, with Sammy as our witness, if you’ll have me.” Her heart had stopped beating, skipping a few beats as Dean’s words sank in. Her teary eyes found his and with a laugh clawing through her, she pressed a kiss to his lips, drawing a groan out of Dean, who tried to prolong the kiss for as long as possible. 
“I will always have you, Dean.” She was pulled towards the altar, unable to stop her tears from dripping as Danny began speaking a prayer she paid no attention to. All (y/n) could do was study Dean, the love swimming in his pupils, the way he looked at her as if she was his sun, alighting the darkest days with her mere presence. A soul crafted for his to hold onto, to love till their time together would eventually run out. 
“Do you have any rings?” Danny’s soft voice ripped (y/n) out of her thoughts, about to whisper a soft, disappointed “No”, but before she could even part her lips, Sam excitedly spoke up. Her eyes watched the tall Winchester brother, how he reached for his breast pocket to expose a small envelope to her glassy eyes. Wordlessly he pushed it towards Dean, who opened it with an unwavering smile stuck to his lips. 
“I bought these rings years ago, sure to eventually push yours down on your finger. I am sorry it took me this long.” Her sob left Dean chuckling, exposing his also teary eyes to hers. She had held onto all these longings for years, mere dreams that were now finally turning real – as if she was just sleeping through another longing. 
But, you're here, now, and that makes it better, somehow
……
“Let me.” Dean’s soft voice filled his bedroom. He was standing behind (y/n), carefully helping her out of her wedding dress with his gaze focused on the ring clinging to his finger. The past hours had flown by all too quickly, turning her from a runaway bride into his wife. His wife. A title so unfamiliar, Dean had to fight against the urge to pinch himself.
His for eternity. His to love. His to worship. 
“I love you, Dean.” (Y/n) whispered her words as she stepped out of her dress, exposing her underwear-clad frame to his hungry eyes. She was pulled into a teeth-chasing kiss, a kiss dripping with emotions that made her feel all too dizzy, having to hold onto Dean before she could be ripped into another dimension. 
“I love you too, sweetheart. And I’m so fucking sorry for missing out on this for years.” He pressed her down on the mattress, giving her a show as he slowly undressed. Her body was aching for him, needing to feel Dean close after all these long years apart. 
“Stop apologising with words and show me that you truly mean them.” His lips kissed her chest, the valley between her breasts as he undid her bra, exposing her hardening nipples to his twinkling eyes. Dean could cum just from the sight of her naked frame, a sight he had only seen in his dreams for the past years, not daring to imagine being this fortunate again. 
“God, you’re so beautiful. I promise to worship you for as long as you want me to.” Dean’s raspy words vibrated on her skin, covering her body with goosebumps as he kneaded her soft flesh. His cock was pressed against her clothed heat, drawing moans from her whenever he moved against her heat, desperate for the kind of friction that left them both trembling.
“I need you inside of me, Dean.” Her raspy whispers left him groaning against her skin as she raised her hips to help him pull her damp panties down her legs. Just this morning, (y/n) had imagined this very moment, knowing that she’d think of Dean when her husband touched her, a loveless marriage she would have been trapped in. 
“Are you still on birth control?” (Y/n) could only nod her head, mind taken up by the feeling of his wandering hands, keeping her pressed against him. Dean's cock twitched against her naked cunt, brushing through her arousal-covered folds to coat himself, “I love you, and I’ll do my best to prove it to you for the rest of our lives.”
“I love you too, Dean.” He pushed into her with a groan, forehead falling against hers as she fluttered around him. It felt as if he had entered paradise, falling to rest on clouds covering his body. She was his Elysium, his safe haven, the one where Dean could be the truest version of himself. 
He moved slowly at first, both needed some time to adjust to one another after all these years, but the second their bodies relaxed, properly enjoying one another’s closeness, Dean began to move faster. Their bodies met with every thrust, eyes holding a contact so intense, (y/n) feared her heart would explode right in her chest. 
Dean was taking his time with her, this wasn’t a rushed fuck to make up for all the time lost, no, it was so much more. This was the purest form of love, a one-of-a-kind love both had clung to in lonely nights, with wandering minds and trembling hands. This is what they had been destined to have, years ago – a love they were now rediscovering. 
“You feel so good, baby.” He felt her clenching around his cock, drawing another gritty sound out of Dean. (Y/n) was long gone, pushed into another dimension where she only knew Dean, nothing but his love, his touch, his irrevocable longing for her. Sensations she was taken hostage by, unable to shake them. 
His warm fingertips found her pulsing bundle, circling it with just enough pressure to draw his name out of her. (Y/n) could feel her orgasm slithering its way up her body, whispering to her to hold onto her husband, and with her fingernails clawed into Dean’s shoulders, she came. He followed her right down the edge, moaning against her lips as their bodies were moulded together. 
“Fuck, we’ll have to do that all through the night, husband.” (Y/n) whispered the words as a few heavy pants left her, making a laugh claw out of Dean who chased her slightly swollen lips for another kiss. 
“Trust me, I won’t let you leave our bed for weeks, wife.” 
Don't know how the broken pieces fit together if you leave it, so, don't go, don't go, I would take your hand if I could reach it
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addisonnie · 1 year
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you, me, & mary-jane
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summary: dealer!ellie comes in clutch in more ways than one.
warnings: make-out sesh, cursing, terrible breaking bad references
a/n: surprise! another ellie fic because i refuse to do the schoolwork that i desperately need to finish! wooooooooo dealer ellie is yum. i actually kinda hate this! enjoy! oh god also listen to “meddle about” by chase atlantic while you read if you would like. ellie=chase atlantic okay bye
part 2 —> part 3
There are several things in life that you can live without. Weed is not one of them.
You’re huffing and borderline growling as you dig through various stash locations in your room. Closet, empty. Under the mattress, nothing but crumbs. In every single pants pocket? Zero. Zilch. Not one lush green nug was found.
What could be chalked up to a literal war cry left your lips as you sat on the floor with your head in your hands, “this is it. This is the end.”
Dina’s head poked up from the side of her bed, “what are you whining about down there?”
Leaning your head back onto the wall, you sent Dina a harsh glare, “you and Jesse smoked the last of it! And I’m flat broke, too!”
She sat up fully in her bed, eyes wide and crazy, “bitch! Don’t pin this on us! You said it was fine.”
“That was last night! This is today! Today I just want to smoke my silly little bowl and enjoy my silly little high.” You groan and knock your head against the wall a few times.
Fishing your phone from your back pocket, you open iMessage. Hopefully your plug isn’t busy right now. Last time you bought from him was in the parking lot of his youngest child’s soccer game. Maybe buying from a 40-something father of three isn’t always the best idea—at least he won’t rip you off?
Hey. You busy?
Tom usually responds right away. His clients doubled as his friends (you being his ex-babysitter) and he always loved to provide for them.
Who is this?
Well, that’s strange. Tom definitely has your number saved. And, Tom definitely knows who you are.
Don’t play, Tom. I want to buy!!!!
You watch the text bubbles pop up and disappear in the bottom corner of the screen a few times, showing that he’s typing out a response and deleting it over and over.
This is his wife. Don’t text this number again. He is married. And he does not sell what you want to “buy.”
You could really cry at this moment. Like, honestly and truly sob. A long huff leaves your lips and you knuckle at your eyes aggressively. Fucking bullshit. Tom’s wife was always kind of a bitch, to be fair. But you didn’t think she’d ever pull a Skylar White on you. What does a girl have to do to get some weed around here?
“Do you know any other dealers? I just got told off by Tom’s wife.” Dina laughed from her bed.
“My name is Skylar White, yo. My husband is Walter White, yo.” You couldn’t help but laugh, “that’s exactly what I was thinking!”
She sits up in her bed, hanging her tanned legs off the side, “here. I have mutual friends with this girl, think her name is Ellie? I heard she sells. Good prices too.”
Dina tosses her phone into your lap from where she sits and allows you to send the contact to yourself.
Hey. Is this Ellie?
———
Ellie takes a couple hours before responding.
It depends on who’s asking?
Your professor drones on about some random Shakespeare play and you can’t bring yourself to pay attention while you read over Ellie’s text.
Dina gave me your number, I heard you sell?
Man. I really hope you’re not a cop.
You chuckle at her text.
Not a cop. Twenty year old girl over here. I love One Direction.
That sounds like something an undercover cop would say.
Ellie made a good point. You scroll through your camera roll trying to find a recent selfie before landing on one you took a couple days ago. You’re clearly high in the picture, so maybe Ellie will take the hint.
Here. Proof. Not a cop :)
Pretty.
She sent her address in a separate text and informs you to meet her there around 7pm when she’s done with her night class. Your professor excuses the class and leaves the remainder of students to pack their things. 5pm. Usually you smoke before going to pick up. Clearly, that’s not an option today. What does one do while they wait if they have no weed?
———
Nothing. One does absolutely nothing if they have no weed.
You knock on Ellie’s front door and wait a few beats before stepping back from the doorway. The lock clicks before the dingy wooden door opens inward,
“Hey!”
Oh, damn. She is fine.
Her auburn hair is short and rests about an inch above her shoulders. It’s pulled slightly up into a bun and several short strands curl lightly along the nape of her neck.
“Hey! Ellie, right?”
She smiles, “that’s me.” The door is pulled open wider and she beckons you to come inside. A botanical tattoo swirls along her forearm and you find yourself staring at her awkwardly before you step into the house.
She tugs off her flannel and slings it over the back of a woven couch, leaving her in a fitted white tank top.
You suck in a breath, “how are you?”
How are you? Really? Who says that to a drug dealer?
She chuckles and slouches into the couch, patting the open spot beside her, “pretty good. How about you?”
“Honestly? I’m suffering.”
She laughs fully this time, “that bad, huh? Your dealer die or something?”
“God, I wish. His wife responded to my text and told me to fuck off, basically. That he doesn’t sell what I buy.” Ellie cringes and shakes her head, her lips pressed into a tight frown,
“she Skylar-Whited you? That’s pretty fucking rough.”
“That’s exactly what I said! Call me Jesse Pinkman, I guess.” Ellie shook her head again and leaned forward to grab a small mahogany box.
Her long fingers opened the lid and scrounged through the container before she happily hummed and held up what she was looking for. A joint was pressed between her fingers and she quickly snatched a lighter off the coffee table.
After she placed the box back on the table, she leaned back into the couch and stretched her arm along the back of it, her fingers barely grazing your shoulder. Ellie turned to face you and held the joint to your lips, “open up.”
Your face flushes as you do what she asked—demanded. Her fingers place the joint onto your awaiting lips and she quickly lights the paper, still holding the joint to your mouth.
What is this girl on? You can’t help but feel as if this is strangely intimate. Tom never held a joint to your lips! On second thought, it’s probably good that he didn’t.
You inhale and she pulls the joint to meet her own mouth as she watches you exhale.
“We can smoke this and then I’ll grind up some for you.” She passes you the joint this time.
“Oh—you don’t have to. I can take the nugs. I don’t want to trouble you.” You pass it back.
She smirks, the joint hanging from the side of her mouth, “no trouble at all. Happy to do it.”
“Is that what you tell all of your clients?”
Another smirk, “only the pretty ones.”
The joint is placed back into your fingertips and you are very glad, this way you can explain the extreme blush creeping up onto your cheeks as just you being overly high. Ellie has somehow moved closer to you, her thigh is pressed up against yours and the arm she has outstretched across the back of the couch skims the back of your shoulders. A chill rakes through your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“Here, take it.” The hand she has resting behind your head snatches her discarded flannel and drops it into your lap.
“Oh—thanks.” She hums in response.
———
Ellis is funny as hell. Each sentence that escapes her plump lips makes less sense than the last,
“would you rather be trapped in a locked room with a gorilla, or with…with a shit ton of cockroaches?”
She’s sitting opposite you on the couch, her back leaning against one armrest. One of her legs is bent and squished against the back of the couch, her other is sprawled off the edge of the couch. Bit of a man-spreader, this one. Your back is pressed to the opposite arm rest and your legs are stretched outward, resting softly in her lap.
Again, weirdly intimate.
“Oh. Fuck, probably the roaches? Just step on ‘em. Yanno?”
She gasps and latches onto your sock-clad feet, “sickening! Me and that gorilla are gonna be friends.”
You squint at her, “you gonna sell him some Mary-Jane?”
“Yup,” she pops the ‘p’ and passes you the remainder of the joint. Your fingers skim over hers and she blushes a bit, nudging your finger with hers.
“Hey—so how much do I owe you?” You immediately regret ruining the moment the second the words pass your lips.
“Well, flattery works with me—“ you cut her off, “oh yeah? I would’ve kissed you earlier, had I known that.”
She flushes, “you can—um. You can still kiss me. If you want.”
And, just like that, your eyes turn into hearts and start beating rapidly. You surge forward and press your lips to hers, smiling into the kiss when she flicks the joint out of her fingertips and grabs your cheeks, pulling you closer.
Her mouth melds to yours and immediately has you panting like a bitch in heat. She moves one of her hands to pinch at your hip, grasping and probing at you until you wind up straddling her lap. You press your chest into hers and squeak when you feel her hand push your hip down, effectively grinding you down onto her. A strangled whine leaves your lips as she pulls away and begins kissing down the column of your throat.
Her mouth is wet and firm while she sucks and nips on any naked skin she can find, moaning when she feels your fingers card through her hair. Your hips continually rut into hers and she quickly sets a different pace, gripping your hips and dragging you forward and back on her lap. Ellie moans when you grab her hair and pull. Her face is removed from your neck at the force of your tug and she pants to catch her breath before opening her eyes to meet yours.
“How’s free sound?” She gives you a crooked smirk and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your throat.
“Sounds like I’m ripping you off, Ellie.”
She groans and throws her head back onto the couch, “I love the way you say my name. And it’s not ripping me off, babe.”
And you’re blushing again. Babe. She called you babe.
She continues, “think of it as a little sampler. Free shared joint, some ground up weed, and some Ellie.”
You grab her cheeks and squish them together, “only if you swear this sampler is offered to me only. Can’t have anyone stealing my deals.”
She brushes your hands off and smirks again, “like I said earlier, pretty girls only.”
“You said ‘girls’ plural.” She laughs.
“I’ve got three clients. A grown man named Joel, one of the sociology professors—don’t tell anyone I said that. Then you. And I’m a lesbian, so…” She trails off at the end of her sentence and looks down at your lips again, hands splayed across your thighs.
You kiss her again. It’s short and chaste and it leaves Ellie chasing your lips for just one more. Two more. Three. How’s five sound?
She presses kisses to your puckered lips over and over, “all,” kiss, “the weed,” kiss, “you can,” kiss, “dream of.”
Ellie finally pulls away to fully look at you, “I mean it. You can have all the weed you want if you keep kissing me like that.”
————
When you finally clamber off of her lap and detach her hands from your hips it’s almost one in the morning. She sighs while she watches you stuff your ‘goody bag’ into your purse, slipping your shoes back on. Her fingers beckon you back to the couch and she taps your right leg until you bend it and rest your foot on top of her thigh. You were planning on walking home with your shoes untied, but Ellie’s nimble fingers quickly double knot each of your shoes; She presses a kiss to each of your knees before letting them straighten back out.
Her hands find your hips again—shocker— while she walks you to the front door. A kiss is pressed to your lips one last time and she gives you a firm squeeze when you lean in to hug her.
“Come back soon. Fuck that guy, I’m your new dealer for life.” You smile and step outside, “okay.”
She definitely tied your shoes too tight and you make a mental note to fix it when you’re out of her eyesight. As you’re walking down the sidewalk that leads you to campus she calls your name,
“Get home safe, yeah? Text me when you’re back!”
You will definitely text her.
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underhousearrestblog · 10 months
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headcanons: Spider-Man characters as your best friends
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(summary) Spider-Man: Across the Spider-verse characters as your best friends (headcanons)
(pairings) Miles Morales x reader, Gwen Stacy x reader, Hobie Brown x reader, Miguel O’Hara x reader, Peter B. Parker x reader, Jessica Drew x reader, Pavitr Prabhakar x reader, Earth-42!Miles Morales x reader
(genre) platonic friendship head canons
(also) this is all highly platonic as I am also including the kids and I don’t feel comfortable writing anything romantic for Gwen, Pav, Miles and Prowler!Miles
HAPPY READING!
Peter B. Parker
always taking his wife’s side even if she’s wrong just to piss him off
- But she told me that it doesn’t count as babysitting if I’m saving the city at the same time! – Peter was walking back and forth around your small apartment after a small spat with Mary.
- And she’s absolutely right, - you agreed while keeping an eye on Mayday who was hanging from your ceiling in one of her webs. – If the mask is on, babysitting duties are off...
getting blamed for teaching Mayday swear words, even though it was Hobie who taught her to say “fuck”
always being that friend that reminds him that his wife is way out of his league (even though you don’t actually think that and you do it just to tease him...)
constantly flirting with his wife just to annoy him
- I’m so sorry, babe, - Peter kissed Mary’s cheek. – I’ll make it for that date night. I promise.
- How about I take you out, Mary? I think you deserv-
- Y/N!! – you heard Peter yell from the other room. – STOP FLIRTING WITH MY WIFE!
You leaned closer to her and lowered your voice.
- I saw this cool new restaurant downtown-
Mary smiled at you, playfully shook her head and laughed.
- I’m married, - she flashed her ring.
You didn’t blink for a hot second before asking:
- Happily?
- Y/N!!! – you leaned back in your chair just in time to avoid a pillow that flew straight past your face.
regularly being woken up by Peter calling you up at night to pick him up from the other side of town because he didn’t feel like waking Mary up and had no problem ruining your sleep
his love language with you as his friend being quality time – after not spending a longer period of time with you because of his duties as Spider-Man or because he had only spent time with Mayday and his wife, he would randomly show up at your apartment and tag along while you were running errands (eating in your car with his feet on the dashboard, getting crumbs all over the seat while he’s telling you every little detail about the latest news in his life) – never ever forgetting that you’re his best friend
when Mayday’s old enough to go to school and she needs help with homework – both you and Peter constantly arguing about which answers are the correct ones and Mary ending up having to take Mayday to the other room because it devolves into an actual fight
Miguel O’Hara
him obviously having a soft spot for you that allowed you to get away with pretty much anything
- It was irresponsible, highly dangerous, reckless behavior that I cannot-
- It wasn’t us! – Gwen stepped in to defend her and Miles. – It was Y/N’s mission! We weren’t even there!
Miguel was silent for a second. Then he turned around to where you were sitting in his chair, calmly eating popcorn and enjoying the show. He brushed his palm over his face, as you watched in satisfaction him having an inner battle with himself.
- Anything to add? – you asked, smirking.
He shook his head in disappointment with one hand still on his hip as he pinched the bridge of his nose in between his fingers.
- Just... – he sighed, walked over and pushed your crossed ankles off his desk. – Just don’t do it again...
taking his clothes, especially because you know it annoys him
- So, I have this new hoodie-
- That’s MY hoodie.
- It WAS your hoodie. Any piece of clothing you haven’t worn for more than two months is officially up for grabs by your best friend. Best I can do now is name it “our” hoodie.
always using the best friend card in the workplace and getting away with essentially everything because you’re best friends with the boss
his love language being acts of service – mostly because he’s awkward with any words of affirmation so he would usually change a light bulb if he saw that one of yours was burnt out or change your tire when he saw that one was flat – and when you noticed it, he would just brush it off as if it was nothing, saying “that’s what friends are for”
you being kinda the only reason Miguel hasn’t died from overworking himself – you usually would force him to go home, take a shower and sleep at least eight hours – which he would object but then you would take his office key, lock him out and leave no room for arguments
having Lyla as your partner-in-crime – her giving you a lot of embarrassing material on Miguel and constantly snitching on where he is and what is he doing...
no man or woman that you’re dating is ever good enough for you – and ever if you end up in a serious relationship, Miguel’s loyalty always lies with you – his first priority is making sure that you’re safe and comfortable in any relationship
being drunk and calling Miguel up in the middle of the night (in one of the rare times he’s actually sleeping and not working himself into the ground)
- Hi? – he would sit up in his bed and stare at the phone where you were Face-timing him.
- Hi, - you said in all seriousness. – Ok. Bye.
Hobie Brown
accidentally developing a habit of not bringing your wallet with you when both of you went out to eat that resulted in him always paying for you
- I’ll get you next time, - you promised, still chewing on your burger.
- Uh-huh, - was all you heard before he pulled the check closer to his side of the table. – Just so you know – you’ll have to take out a loan to repay me for all this stuff, - he gestured towards the food with one of his fries.
- Well, who’s keeping count anyway-
- One thousand and fifteen dollars.
You had been friends for two years at that point so it wasn’t unbelievable or anything...
his love language being physical touch – Hobie wouldn’t be embarrassed or ashamed to hug you whenever you or him needed a hug...
making a habit of stealing his food which initially annoyed him but then he compromised by making his orders larger to accommodate you
having quite romantic nicknames for each other, even though you’re just friends (names like “love”, “darling” and “babe”) but also randomly calling each other “bro” and “dude”
Hobie’s an excellent long-distance friend if one of you is out of town – calling you every day to make sure you’re safe and sound
if you have a pet, Hobie would have the biggest annoyed-dad energy – meaning, he would constantly complain about how clingy your pet/ pets are to him but occasionally you would catch him snuggling with the animal as if it was his own pet
if you don’t like some of your own family members, he hates them too, and if you have great relationship with your family – he loves them, no questions asked
Miles Morales
constantly cock-blocking him with Gwen like the annoying sibling you were
You watched your best friend and his crush sit on the balcony of the apartment building. At that point, Gwen had lightly touched his shoulder and you could’ve sworn you saw Miles melt into a puddle.
- HI! – you leaned out of your window that was right next to your best friend’s balcony. – HAVE WE MET? YOU’RE GWEN, RIGHT?
You saw Miles shake his head at you to go back inside your apartment. That only gave you more courage.
- Oh my god! – you grinned and reached out your hand over the space between your window and Miles’ balcony for Gwen to shake. – I’m Miles’ friend, Y/N. It’s such an honor to finally put a face to a name so talked about!
Gwen reached over to shake your hand.
- Really? – she looked unconvinced. – You’re talking about me to your friends, Miles?
He needed some time to find words, so instead your smile widened and you faked surprise:
- Is she the same girl whose hair you ripped out?
Gwen threw annoyed look at Miles who looked just as guilty as when it first happened.
- I have to say though, you can’t even see any difference, - you said when it was very clear that you could definitely see the shaved side of her head.
his love language being words of affirmation – especially after you found out he was Spider-Man and supported him no questions asked, he always let you know how much he appreciated you as his friend
when you first found out he’s Spider-Man, you got him a Spider-Man Halloween costume for his birthday and gifted it to him in front of his parents with a note attached just for him (and watched with satisfaction as Miles read “in case you ever need a backup” written on the paper)
if you’re taller than him – constantly testing his patience by reminding him by how much exactly he’s shorter than you – even though he’s a superhero and all that...
getting a driver’s licence before Miles – him being a very nervous driver so you take it upon yourself to teach him (and his dad being impressed by how much better he seems to get every time he’s driving with his son)
at one point, Miles’ dad to would catch you after you had thrown up some graffiti of your own but since you refused to call your folks because you knew they would be very, very mad, he would just sigh in annoyance and let you go with a warning
- If I catch you bragging about this to Miles, you’ll be right back here!
you making and selling Spider-Man merch but putting the most embarrassing photos of Miles on it just to annoy him
- Is that... Is that a photo of me with two birds glued to my hands?
- I believe that real life situations create the most amazing art, dude!
Jessica Drew
being constantly worried for her safety when she’s both pregnant and saving the city every day
You had developed a habit of becoming her designated driver so she wouldn’t swing back home on her webs.
- Hey, - you called out to your friend as soon as she had given her statement about the robbery to the police. – Get in!
You opened the passenger side door of your car.
Jessica had to take a double look when she saw you just casually waiting to pick her up after a fight.
- Y/N? – she looked around surprised. – What are you doing here?
- Apparently, I’m giving a ride home to a reckless pregnant lady, - you yawned and pointed to the passenger seat. – In.
She walked around and got in – really no point in refusing a free ride home when you’re already here.
- Are you in your pajamas? – she looked you over when you started the car.
- It’s one in the morning, - you pulled out of the parking lot. – Of course, I’m wearing pajamas.
- How did you even know where I was?
- I have a Spidey-sense of my own that’s called “my best friend is back on some bullshit that police could’ve sorted out themselves”, - you yawned again and then pointed towards her. – I have tracker in your boot’s heel.
Jessica’s love language being acts of service – which was matching to yours; essentially both of you doing little things for one another (you always dropping her off and picking her back up for any and all pregnancy-related appointments, her making more food so it’s enough for you too, her texting you where there’s less traffic while going about her day as Spider-Woman so you can get to work easier, you later on becoming a godmother/ godfather for her baby and spoiling that child to no end)
saying goodbye to each other like a married couple
- Drive safe, honey! Text me when you’re home!
- I will, darling! Love ya!
Earth-42!Miles Morales
becoming friends after you accidentally caught him in one of your security system traps that you had been developing
- Oh so it works, - you muttered under your breath, as Miles watched you press some buttons on your tablet. – This prototype alone, if sold, could get me a nice apart-
- Hey! – you turned towards where the intruder was trapped in your artificial web trap. – I really don’t have time for this bullshi-
You knew the Prowler. Or, more specifically, you had heard of him. At that point, you had never actually seen him in person. And you weren’t actually seeing him now – he was still in his suit.
- You broke into my lab, - you clarified. – Do you think I have time for your bullshit?
Instead of panicking, calling the security or the police, you simply put down the tablet, kicked your feet up on the table in front of you and opened a juice box.
For a small moment, the intruder stopped struggling, as if too bewildered by your reaction.
You raised your eyebrows, awaiting some sort of a threat or question...
- How are you even here? – a low voice – no doubt changed by a voice modulator – asked. – It’s a national holiday. No one was supposed to be here!
- Oh yeah, - you threw your empty juice box over the lab, straight into trash. – My boss made me stay overnight. Apparently, the security system prototype was supposed to be ready yesterday but I had taken a sick day so...
- What an asshole, - your captive murmured under his breath.
- Ain’t that the truth, - you agreed. – So, what are you after, - you looked into your tablet one more time before adding, - Miles Morales.
He was definitely surprised. After the initial shock, he took off his mask.
- How did you know who I am?
- I didn’t, - you turned your tablet towards him. – Well, not until my webs touched you and pulled any and all DNA data they could from you. Then, the program ran diagnostics through all collected DNA data from all over the world and – boom – a genetics match found identical to Miles Morales!
getting along very well with his uncle – something that Miles says annoys him but secretly he enjoys having more people that resemble a family to him, especially since his dad is gone
his love language being gift giving – Earth-42!Miles getting you a particular part for your tech that you’ve been looking for all over the city but instead of saying something – anything – he would just awkwardly thrust it into your hands, murmur something along the lines of “I got this for you” and immediately leave
if you’re single on Valentine’s day, you would order a pizza and hang around with Miles – he would say it’s sad that you have to hang out with your best friend but would actually appreciate the company
Gwen Stacy
taking dozens of photos of Gwen’s hair after the-Miles-incident where she had some of her hair ripped out
- No, stop! – Gwen tried to slap your phone out of your hand. – This is humiliating enough without lasting evidence!
- This is gonna be my Christmas card this year!
to outsiders it looks like you don’t like each other at all – both of you constantly bickering like siblings and yelling like a married couple; and both of you being surprised and taken aback when somebody genuinely points out that you should be nicer to one another (and immediately laughing when anyone assumes you hate each other...)
·       you always rely on Gwen to tell you the truth – no matter how harsh it is
- I think it went over well, - you said, as soon as your crush had left your lunch table.
When she hadn’t said anything, you turned to see her watching you with a blank look on her face.
- Your kidding, right? – she raised an eyebrow. – It was so awkward to watch I would’ve chosen to watch paint dry! That guy’s a dick! How can you even like that moron?
essentially having lots of your stuff over at her place and lots of her things at yours – and it’s gotten to a point where both of you have freed some space up in your desks, closets and dressers for your friend to comfortably leave their things in
constantly staying over at the other’s place – both your and her parents no longer surprised when one of you emerge to eat breakfast with everybody else there
Gwen’s love language being physical touch – especially if she’s nervous or anxious, she would wrap her pinky finger around yours just to know that you’re there
Pavitr Prabhakar
forever and always saying “Chai tea” just to piss him off
- Let’s get some Chai tea!
- Say it right and we might.
- I got you some Chai tea!
- I’m not drinking it if you keep saying it wrong!
- You know what I’m craving? Ch-
- I swear to god-
one of you constantly finding and perfecting some sort of a “talent” or “skill” – like juggling or doing a headstand – and the other one always trying to ruin the performance by knocking out one of the balls while juggling or making the other fall while doing a headstand
Pav’s love language being giving gifts – especially food; with him being Spider-Man, you would often text him while he was running errands and keeping peace all over the city to ask him to get you a particular snack (at some point, he had memorized your favorite places and would just get you something even before you asked – especially if he needed a favour from you and wanted to butter you up before asking...)
fighting for the sake of fighting
- YOU’RE SO WRONG! HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE HOW WRONG YOU ARE!?
- ACTUALLY, I REALIZED I WAS WRONG, LIKE, TEN MINUTES AGO! BUT THEN YOU SAID SOME DUMB SHIT AND I DECIDED THAT I COULDN’T LET YOU WIN!
him accidentally pushing you out of the first story window when his crush unexpectedly came over and you were asleep on his couch (insert: Cameron Diaz’s character in The Other Woman being pushed out of the window) and you bringing it up any time you need a favor from him
- I can’t just do that! That’s borderline a crime!
- So is throwing your friend out of a window, Pav!
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calisources · 1 month
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𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒, 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.
All sentences have been taking from different media and literature, movies and more regarding the topic of mistresses and favorites, mostly in the setting of royal court but can also be adjusted to other time periods. Change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit. Some of these include foul language, so beware. Implications of cheating are also in these.
You are my king, Niko, and I need you.
Everything I say is obeyed; everything I want is given to me.
You are such hard work to seduce, Niko.
She wanted to sit ON him, not next to him.
Never underestimate the power of a woman's intuition.
Behind every great king, there is a great queen. And behind them, there is a mistress.
The King is allowed to have as many favorite as he pleases.
A queen is never without her secrets.
A woman's beauty is her greatest weapon, use it wisely.
Rules are meant to be broken, especially by queens.
Queens do not beg for love, they command it.
Have as many bedwarmers as you wish, but I am your wife and you will not humiliate me.
A queen's grace can disarm her enemies.
He will grow tire of you, as he does with the others.
Having an ugly mistress is therefore a fatal mistake.
When a man takes a mistress, he doesn't turn around and divorce his wife.
Finding out that you are not your lover’s only lover hurts.
But a mistress can do interesting thing with food. Shall I describe them?
You will come back to the castle with me.
I-I'm not your responsibility.
You are mine. They gave you to me, remember? And I want to keep you. 
Your Grace---I am a virgin.
I realize that, and it pleases me. You do not doubt that I can be gentle with you?
They say you grow tire after the first night. No mistress last longer than a night with the king.
I know what you are trying to do, but do not think to take the King away from me. Let him play with you.
Done being sore yet, by chance?
From a mistresses’s perspective, taken men are low maintenance. All they want is sex, sex, sex. 
Do not take it harshly. It’s only flesh. And a body wants what it wants.
Kings have mistresses, Queens have secrets and they die with them.
To be the mistress of a married man is to have the better role.
The role of a mistress if make a man’s mood change and send him happy to his wife.
Don't be mad at a hoe for doing what she does best, besides it's not her that owes you that loyalty.
It was not a request. I will take you to bed and make you mine.
My wife has no interest in my bed, butb I assure you, my bed has interest in you.
 Wives are young men's mistresses, companions for middle age, and old men's nurses. 
I don't want her to know the truth about us.
They know about us and they do not care. My wife does not mind to share.
As long as I do my duty, I am allowed to do who I please.
This absurd jealousy.
A mistress should be like a little oasis, refreshing and exciting, away from the mundane realities of life
The bedchamber is where political alliances are sealed, and where empires are born.
A king may rule a nation, but a woman's allure can conquer the king.
Behind every great king, there are the whispers of his mistresses.
The allure of a mistress lies not only in her beauty, but in her ability to manipulate.
A mistress must be both lover and confidante, juggling passion and secrecy.
In the court of kings, a mistress can become more powerful than a queen.
He is one of his favorites, and everyone knows it. You must become his favorite too.
In the arms of a mistress, a king can escape the weight of his crown.
I want more than this. You cannot offer me more than secret meetings and a warm bed. People whisper.
You can be my wife here. 
If I desire to marry someone else, would I be allowed or you would not let me?
I'll take you as my only mistress. I won't have a thought or an affection for anyone else.
I call Mary my English mare, because I ride her so often.
He cannot give you his true heart... for *I* have that in my keeping.
You can't have 3 people in a marriage!
Seduce me. Write letters to me. And poems, I love poems. Ravish me with your words. Seduce me.
You've taken her honor!
I swear to your grace, someone else was there before me.
They say all his liaisons are soon over. He blows hot, he blows cold.
Sometimes I believe you will grow tire of me. But then I find you here in my bed.
If I cannot please the King, will he kill me?
You must not touch me, for Caesar’s I am.
Everyone knew she was his queen and wife in anything but name.
You will have this orgasm if it’s the last thing I do.
What happened to the art of seduction? A woman enjoys being seduced.
I will not be the laughing stock of the realm. A woman who can only be a lover, never a wife.
I found her a very beautiful young woman with a very sweet and yielding disposition, She confessed to great admiration for Your Majesty. Should I, arrange ...?
If you put the Queen aside for this affair, the kingdom will fall apart.
If you seek Your Grace, you know where to find him.
I trust his mistress more than I trust any man on this table.
My husband is extremely jealous. Wants me sent to a nunnery.
I am with child. It is His Majesty's child.
Slow down so I can see how you do it.
Think of this as training. For your future husband’s pleasure. And mine.
should like to be your wife in every way.
I was wondering if you'd like to become my mistress.
You like to board other men's boats.
You know perfectly well what the King desires and what he shall have.
I saw with my own eyes how attentive he is to you.
My only satisfaction is that in frustrating you, I hasten your fall from the King's good graces.
Any man is weak against a maiden’s magic. Alluring and sweet. Like spring.
I make you this promise. When we are married, I will deliver you a son.
I have yet to decide whether to make your bedmate a head shorter.
So you can have your lovers and I have my own, but at the end, we return to one another. 
If you are not careful and a bastard is conceived, you will be ruined.
Everything will change for her. That kiss is her destiny and fortune.
So, what about this girl, this putain, the king's whore? Why doesn't somebody just get rid of her?
Have any of the women you've bedded with lied about their virginity?
Pretty, witty Nell, don’t forget you are mine until I say so.
Do you seriously expect me to be the first Prince of Wales in history not to have a mistress?
I will teach you many things, how to please a man and in turn, you will be my eyes and ears in court.
I thought you wished for us to be over.
How can I when you plague my mind at every turn.
Let me have you, at least once. Many women would consider it an honor.
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wangxianficfinder · 5 days
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Fic Finder
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1. Hey! I am looking for a fic that's about WWX and LWJ being happily married, happily adopting children, and I think JC wants to reconcile? The children all have "Si" as the first character of their name, because Lan Elders questioned them being LSZ's siblings? Or something? I think LSZ arranged the children to "suddenly" appear in front of his parents too and they are oblivious but JC finds out and is surprised how sly LSZ is? They have a house in the outskirts of Cloud Recesses I think. Thank you so much!
FOUND? ❤️ Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste (T, 36k, WangXian, JC & WWX,  Post-Canon, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Adoption, Family Fluff, Kid fic, Family drama, Fluff)
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2. turning to you for this person's hour of need
i swear ive read this fic before also but i cant remember,,,, theres more info in the comments as well about how it Might be librarian/(equally scholar) lwj & they might be post grad. also he might be quoting mary oliver (but they speculate it theyre mixing fics) @revellingfate
FOUND! Lans Never Kiss and Tell by FeelsForBreakfast (E, 30k, wangxian, Modern, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Humor, LWJ FUCKS, wwx and lwj are both like ‘I could never be the one for him :(’, and all their friends are like ‘you freaks deserve each other’, Mutual Pining, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, modern diaspora au) they said they found it in the twitter thread 😊
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3. hi! looking for a fic i read at some point that had a scene (i think towards the end?) where someone lets slip something about LSZ's identity in front of JC (maybe WWX is being affectionate? or Sizhui says something to him or LWJ?) and for a second they all freeze because what if JC hates him for having been born a Wen, but instead JC's reaction is something along the lines of "oh thank god it IS you" + checking that that's what they meant and he really *was* Wen Yuan bc JC had looked during and after the siege but couldn't find a trace of him and had hoped all these years that LWJ's mystery kid was secretly Wen Yuan but never dared ask in case he wasn't, and so finding out it really was him all along is a huge relief.
thank you!! @aroace-lukeskywalker
NOT FOUND! 江山如有待 | It Seems the Hills and Rivers Have Been Waiting by ScarlettStorm (E, 295k, OFC/JC, Slow Burn, Post-Canon, (mostly), Transfem Character, WQ Lives, Fighting as Flirting, Fighting as Foreplay, qs also lives, demisexual JC, sex disaster jc, Femdom, switch rights, Eventual Smut)
FOUND! Build Your Home (on a landslide) by John_lzhc (T, 55k, LSZ & WWX, JC & WWX, WangXian, LSZ & LJY, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Families of Choice, PTSD, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, best boy LSZ, Hopeful Ending, canon typical references to genocide, JC & WWX reconciliation, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Trans Male Character, Trans WWX, Alcohol, Implied/Referenced Alcohol, Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied Pregnancy, Implied Miscarrage, Happier Than It Sounds, WWX is the best teacher, WangXian forshadowed, Gratuitous use of the word "fuck", Found Family, Romance, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Dissociation, Mental Breakdown, Teaching, LWJ being horny on main, Menstruation, grief and mourning, Marriage Negotiations, moderate shenanigans, asexual LJY, LJY third generation gremlin, soft italicised 'oh' moment) There's an encounter like this with JC near the end of the 3rd part.
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4. hello. i was trying to find this fic but now am unable to but it's modern au where wwx tells lwj that if they aren't married by 30, they will marey each other but just as they start hitting 30 wwx starts dating someone (i don't remember if it's mianmian or someone else).
FOUND? By 30 by x_los (T, wangxian, Modern, Accidental Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Mutual Pining, Fuck Trees)
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5. Ugh I'm sorry but I have a really vague one >.< I remember that Wwx is staying with Lwj post (cql?) canon and they are kind of together but haven't slept together yet. It goes on for a while and one thing I remember is that when they do finally do it it's a hot night and a summer storm is happening. Thanks! @yilingweiclan
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6. hii!! i need help finding this fic where wei ying finds or adopts (?) a bunny and then throughout the story he names the bunny/bunnies (?) pun names related to pop culture. it was a modern au and at this point of the story wangxian is already in a relationship(?)
thats all i remember from this fic. thank u in advance for ur hardwork <3
FOUND! Postcards from the Horizon by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (T, 7k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, JC/WQ, WIP, Epilogues, yunmeng bros reconciliation, rabbit acquisition)
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7. hello, pls i am rooting for this
Can anyone find a fic abt HuaLian being WWX parents, and it is Canon divergence? I feel like I ever read it, but in the same time i dont know 😭😭😭
FOUND? 🔒 a warm coal in the hearth of our hearts by eccentrick (T, 46k, XL & WWX, HC & WWX, SQX & WWX, hualian, Found Family, fluff with plot, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Disabled Character, Ableism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiāngs, slow burn found family, Gender Stuff brought to you by SQX, HuaLian Adopt WWX, Married HuaLian, Post-Canon TGCF, Kid Fic, TGCF Spoilers) I'm sure there are so many, but this is the one I thought of first. Wwx living on the streets and finding shelter in an abandoned temple. Will make you feel a lot of big feelings.
FOUND? Hua Xianle by Tiffany_Guinne (Not rated, 249k, hualian, wangxian, TGCF, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Madam Lan Lives, Not JFM & YZY Friendly, Bad Parent JFM, Bad Parent YZY, overprotective hualian as parents, WWX is good at feelings, WWX knows self preservation, and self love, WWX NHS and JZX are friends, Not JC Friendly, No Golden Core Transfer, Canon Divergence, Ghosts and Gods are wrapped around WWX's fingers, LWi is a Panicked Gay, WWX is kinda sickly, WWX is not named Wuxian, HuaLian Adopt WWX, WWX has selective mutism, PM is the uncle that teaches you how to flirt, Grandfather JW, MNQ is the grandmother then?, SQX is the aunt/uncle that spoils WWX, all of them spoils him actually, They have a competition on who will be the fave uncle or aunt, and this is a story about how A-Ying disses HC on a daily basis just to make fun of him, he loves his adie though, no HC is harmed in the creation of this story, i can't say the same for the Jiang though, Creepy JFM, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, HUA YING DOES NOT GET RAPED!, Can't say the same for some unwanted...people, Don't like, Don't read, This starts of mild and fluffy though, WIP)
FOUND? let this soul be your whisper by merthurlin (T, 28k, hualian, wangxian, post TGCF canon, post first siege of burial mounds, canonical character death, canon divergence, found family) has Xie Lian take in Wei Wuxian for three years before his 3rd ascension.'has Xie Lian take in Wei Wuxian for three years before his 3rd ascension.
FOUND? Narrative of Strength by erosophic (T, 67k, hualian, wangxian, WWX & XL, WWX & HC, FX & MQ & XL, JC & WWX, FengQing, Canon Divergence, HuaLian Adopt WWX, Found Family, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, XL takes WWX as a disciple, Protective XL, Protective HC, Adoption, Kidnapping, Attempted Kidnapping, QR being QR, Serious Injuries, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence)
If all else fails, searching the Hualian adopt wwx tag on ap3 might get you something
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8. Hi! I am looking for a fic where everyone except Wei Ying is a shifter. However, during the attack on Lotus Pier, Wei Ying shifts into a Phoenix/Feng Huang, a clan that was destroyed years ago. He has powers to heal others and so Jiang Fengmian orders everyone in Lotus Pier to keep it a secret. He was also pregnant and gave birth to A-Yuan. Any leads will be much appreciated! Thank you in advance😊 @lilaccamellia
FOUND? Changes by Duochanfan (Not Rated, 80k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Drama, Mpreg, Shapeshifters AU, Sunshot Campaign, Baby LSZ, Angst with a Happy Ending, JGS is a warning unto himself, Past Miscarriage, Good YZY, injuries, Death of people, Not anyone we like)
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9. For the next FF, I'm looking for 2 fics: (A) burial mounds arc, yiling Wei sect fic where they advertised cultivators could come perform the burial rites of their sects to lay to rest their dead from the resentful masses in the burial mounds. I think this made them a legit sect. (B) I'm not sure why but LWJ married WY, possibly to protect him? WY was severely injured by zidian and he was bedridden while LWJ was sent to the indoctrination. The one scene I recall is WY made a talisman that exploded a Wen attacker's head.
9A)
I've read 9A! Can't find it now, but perhaps additional info will help: there's a rouge cultivator hanging around the burial mounds, who turns out to be Madame Lan, and I think Lan Qiren recognizes her while on a visit to lay to rest Lan ghosts? Later he brings over LWJ and LXC for a reunion.
FOUND? Claiming Life from Death by MarbleGlove (E, 24k, WWX & WQ, wangxian, Golden Core cultivation and theory, Canon Divergence, the wen remnants survive, the burial mounds settlement survives, Pining WWX, Rumors, lying is forbidden but what is truth, Past Rape/Non-con, LQR is trying his best, Porn With Plot, Light Bondage, missing core reveal, YLLZ WWX)
9B)
FOUND! 🧡 To have and to hold by Moominmammashandbag (M, 78k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Major character injury, CQL verse, Happy Ending) the head exploding is in ch 13
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10. hellooo! i just opened my x app (twitter) and found a short art/comic story where child!wangji suddenly became a bunny and then found that he's at the back of the jingshi (there are other bunnies) then child!wuxian came and saw bunji. i think thats the part 1/5(?). when im about to read the thread, its all gone. im been scrolling thru my feed but i cant find it. can u guys help me find it? thank you so much in advance!
FOUND! twitter thread i think is this!
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11. Hey,
Can you help me find a fic. I don't really remember much except that the yiling city (or burial mounds ) was like well- developed and a flourishing place. Hope you can find the fic @mayavsworld
FOUND? 💖🔒 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Mutual Pining, EXTREME SLOWBURN, the inherent eroticism of the forehead ribbon, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, neither wwx nor lwj want to be Perceived, but sorry kids! it’s gonna happen!, rated E but the the NSFW stuff doesn’t begin until chapter 19!, bottom LWJ in chapter 20 and 27) Has a well developed community in the burial mounds?
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12. Hi! Wishing the mods to have a wonderful day
I need help finding a fic, could you help pls?
It was a Wangxian one shot that took place in modern settings, specifically it was about wangxian having (adopting?) a baby during quarantine and not telling their family & friends until they are invited to a party/reunion and they just… bring the baby, surprise!
I WAS 90% sure it was called “Quarantine baby” but I can’t for the light of me find it. At this point I just want to know if it was deleted or I’m misremembering something. Anyway thanks for all your work! @neko-in-gotham
FOUND! What is on my kitchen table? by tigerlilly3224 (G, 3k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, Modern, A/B/O, Family Fluff, Family Feels, Cute, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Alpha JC, Alpha LXC, Alpha NMJ, Alpha LQR, Post Mpreg, Pandemics, Family Bonding, Siblings JC & WWX, Protective LWJ, Parents WangXian, Soft WangXian, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, LJY Being LJY)
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13. I've read this fanfic around 2021 and I forgot the title. I barely remember the details about it but I know it's good and I want to read it again, and it was an incomplete work way back so I'm wondering if it's completed already. It's about LWJ and WWX (participating?) in this kind of survival in the (purgatory?) and like they faced challenges under that and striving to survive until the very end to find their way out... really forgot the complete details but I swear it was good
NOT FOUND and from our own/live to ourselves by betweentheheavesofstorm (M, 105k, wangxian, Modern, Fantasy, Reality TV, Arctic Survival, Blood Magic, Blood and Gore, Getting Together, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Self-Harm, Bloodletting, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Animal Death, Hunting, Mild Sexual Content)
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14. Hi, I hope all is well with you.
I'm looking for 2 fanfics.
A - is wangxian, where lwj convinces wwx to return with him to gusu and remove his resentful energy and in return he will give a piece of land near the Cloud Recesses to the Wen Remnantslive in. but what lwj doesn't know is that resentful energy is the only thing keeping wwx alive. when trying to remove it he almost kills wwx and if wen qin hadn't been there it was very likely that he would have really died. Upon accepting LWJ's proposal, WWX knew he was going to die and asked LWJ to be the one to remove the resentful energy. has a happy ending.
B - lwj is a courtesan in a brothel near the tombs and wwx goes there for lwj's music to calm the resentful energy within him. when lwj calms the energy wwx returns to seem human. it's a fic where the monsters from the tombs come out to fight the wens and wwx is the patriarch of these monsters from what I remember.
thanks. @lilianeheart
14A)
FOUND? decay by antebunny  (G, 16k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, big sister WQ just wants her stupid little brother WWX to take care of himself, warnings for WWX's typical level of self-care, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, the fluffiest ending, Hurt/Comfort, Podfic Available)
14B)
FOUND? start by pulling him out of the fire by tidemakers (T, 15k, wangxian, Creatures & Monsters, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Mild Gore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV LWJ, YLLZ WWX, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Hurt WWX)
~*~
15. What I remember is toward the end of a time travel story after defeating wen ruohan, wei wuxian is confronted by mend yap who was sent back by accident. Thing was that wei wuxian wasn’t actually one of the people sent back he was just told about it and he has to sit and stall while meng yao tries to turn him against I think lan xichen. I think it ends up with wei wuxian getting injured and knocked out after meng yao is stopped (still in wrh’s throne room)
~*~
16. Hello There! Hope you are doing good!! I read this fic a long ago Idk where i found it. In which WWX unintentionally adopts a dog and as we know WWX and His naming skills. he accidently named the puppy "Hey". There was some scenes with JL too about how to train the dog. It was post canon I think. please help me find this fic. thank you!!! @vbhardwaj-reads
FOUND? Imprints by Lisa_Telramor (G, 47k, wangxian, accidental puppy adoption, Humor, Panic Attacks, phobia recovery, Post-Canon, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Poor Life Choices, because WWX has trouble putting his mental health first, Self-Acceptance, don't face your phobias the wei WWX does it, that would probably make the trauma worse, jumping through mental hoops to combat phobias, Developing Relationship, fluff with a side of anxiety lol, WWX adopts a puppy, Dogs)
~*~
17. Hello!
I am desperatly looking for a fic about Jiang Cheng and Nie Huisang. I literally cannot find it anywhere. It was post canon mostly, they were hooking up or sth and Huisang was dealing with resentful energy in his region and being chief cultivator. at some point Jiang Cheng broke it off, they only saw each other in passing on conferences and then huisang had qi deviation. wangxian was there trying to stop it but ultimately jiang cheng sort of brought him back. if you know this fanfic or anyone who i can ask i'll owe you my life @pandemonium39
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18. Lost fic!! (Also tw for mention of SA)
It was a modern au, wei ying ran away as a teenager and lz bumps into him at a market, WY is with the wens and also has a close relationship with xue yang (they are kinda ex's) and then it turns out the JFM had attempted to assault WY as a teem and madame yu blamed WY, and JC and JYL and LZ are all in a group chat where they talk about WY and how much they miss him
FOUND? clean from the war (your heart fits like a key) by sysrae (E, 28k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reunions, past xy/wwx, xy is fucked up but not evil, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, past wwx/jfm, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Abuse, Rape Recovery, transphobic violence, Victim Blaming, Past wei Wuxian/others, allusions to past self-harm)
~*~
19. Hiiiiiii!! I was looking for fic where I think Madam Yu kills Wei Ying and then Lan Wangji finds his soul? And I think somehow the Lan convinces Wei Ying to confess about what Madam Yu did to the Jiang siblings. And Wei Ying was sure that it won't go well but confessed anyway and Jiang Cheng didn't believe him. That's all I can remember.
And Thank you so much for all your work!! @yilinglaobunny
FOUND? I'd give anything to hear you say it one more time by Unicornelia96 (T, 54k, wangxian, Major Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, No Sunshot Campaign, Angst, Reincarnation, Character Death, Sad LWJ, LWJ Needs a Hug, Suicidal Thoughts, POV LWJ, POV Multiple, but mostly LWJ)
~*~
20. Hello! I wanted to ask about this one fic where I think the entire Lan clan traveled back in time or at least had an idea of future events and so, during the Cloud Recesses Arc, they were super kind to Wei Wuxian cause they knew that Lan Wangji was going to be marrying him at some point. Lan Wangji was horknee gripping all the way when Wei Ying and him sparred and Lan Qiren was exasperated while Jiang Cheng was confused throughout the whole ordeal.
FOUND? 🔒💖 Flawed and Free by Vrishchika (E, 18k, wangxian, major character death, time travel fix-it, dark gusu lan, dark LWJ, dark LXC, not JC friendly, temporary character death, angst, hurt/comfort, WIP)
FOUND? Cluster of Clouds by Nika_Raven_Celeste (T, 20k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, JC & WWX, time travel, post-canon lans time travel, cloud recesses study era, confused WWX, soft LQR, soft LWJ, not JC friendly, not YZY friendly, genius WWX, horny LWJ, oblivious WWX, WIP)
~*~
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marvelobsessed134 · 21 days
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Just got done spewing some facts under a video supporting Priscilla and her “movie” I thought I’d share them here:
So many people here are uneducated and will blindly believe everything Priscilla says because she’s a woman and it’s edgy to hate on Elvis.
1. Elvis was never actually wanting to date or marry Priscilla he was with an actress very much his age that was back home while he was in Germany. He just saw Prissy as someone to talk to. She has so many issues with her yandere type fan tendencies being obsessive over a man she wasn’t even with in the first place and who didn’t give her a second thought
2. She did NOT hopelessly wait around for Elvis after he left she continued to play several different guys and she did have a very normal high school experience she went to dances and football games
3. Prissy’s father blackmailed Elvis into marrying her. Elvis did NOT want to marry Priscilla
4. Yes, Elvis cheated but not until after Priscilla cheated first with her dance instructor. She’d also call him while she was doing the deed so he could hear
5. Priscilla said herself the chair scene is highly inaccurate. Elvis was angry on the phone with the Colonel and threw a chair to the wall as Priscilla was walking in the room and he immediately apologized and said he didn’t see her come in
6. She constantly changes her story and her book she said herself isn’t accurate because she said if she didn’t make it dramatic enough it wouldn’t sell
7. For those who might say “she’s a child, she can’t do no wrong she didn’t know what she was doing” at 14 I was well aware of shit and what I did. And I know she did too she wasn’t some innocent angel
8. She’s an awful mother to Lisa Marie. Actively dated and let a man around Lisa that had said he had inappropriate feelings for Lisa when she was a child
9. Got with a married man who had a PREGNANT wife. Yes it’s also the man’s fault but she knew damn well he was married and his wife was pregnant
10. She cannot stop talking bs about Elvis cause he’s the only reason she’s relevant. In contrast to one of (what I believe to be) Elvis’ true loves Ann Margaret who only says nice things about him but she also had a career before meeting him
All in all, yes Elvis had some flaws but people spread misinformation about him all the time just like they do with Michael Jackson. Priscilla is no saint, she’s a lying gold digger who only cared about money in the first place. Not to mention she was laughing at Elvis’s funeral so if she truly was “in love” then why would she do such an awful thing by laughing? She continues to use the Presley name even though Elvis told her not to after they divorced and constantly spew lies and drop his name over and over again. She’s told her story countless times, this movie was slander towards a man who cannot defend himself. Like I said Elvis wasn’t a saint either but you need to take off the rose colored glasses and see both sides of the story. Thank you.
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Julian to Alec
Dear Alec,
Hello from Chiswick! I’m sure Magnus has been keeping you up-to-date on the adventures we’ve been having here at Blackthorn Hall. We’ve been making progress, slow as it is, but the place still feels very far from being a house I or my family would want to live in. Except Dru, who claims she’d rather keep it cursed for the ambience (not that she’s been here yet.)
All of that is to say I suggest you thank the Angel every day that Tatiana Lightwood married a Blackthorn and this house is our problem and not yours. Anyway, you get the update this time instead of M.; you’ll see why soon.
Our search for the objects that hold the Curse of Tatiana continue! We’ve run out of objects that Rupert has any inkling about, which means we have gotten into the ley-line maps. I can hear Magnus groaning from here as you read this to him. Yes, Eighteenth-century ley-line maps, second only to ancient Babylonian star charts for their ease of reading and understanding. You can tell Magnus he can stop putting his coat on, though, because we got in touch with Ragnor Fell asked him to come from the Scholomance to help us. I suspect Ty harassed him until he agreed (though I have no proof) but he was polite enough about it. Polite for Ragnor, I mean.
The ley-lines suggested two possible locations where something important might be kept—a Downworlder gentleman’s club and a church, both in central London. We decided to start with the church, which is named St. Mary Abchurch. (Am I wrong or are British names weirdly silly sometimes? Emma immediately started calling it “St. Church von Church,” and now that’s the only way I can think of it.)
Anyway, St. Church the Churchiest is a not-huge red brick church on Abchurch Lane (funny how that works out). We took the train and then the Tube to get there, which may have been the most complex part of the day, just figuring out how to navigate the whole weird mundane system. The church was pretty quiet and empty—it was the middle of the afternoon and there were a handful of tourists, but I don’t think it’s well-known so we didn’t have to worry. We weren’t glamoured, but nobody paid any attention to us anyway. Tattoos are pretty common in London.
We walked the whole church, pretending to gaze thoughtfully at the memorials and the paintings on the inside of the dome and so on while waving the Sensor around as much as we could and waiting for it to respond. 
And it was not responding. Covering the whole church didn’t take all that long; like I said, it’s not huge.
Emma pointed out that just because the church was on a ley-line in London didn’t mean Tatiana had necessarily left anything there, since there are way more ley-lines than objects we’re looking for. And she’s right—we’re assuming Tatiana didn’t break into some mundane’s house on the same ley-line and leave anything there, but I guess she might have. It would have been a very strange thing to do, but whatever else we’ve learned about Tatiana we do feel pretty confident she was a strange one.
We did get a break, though—just before we were about to leave Emma went to look at a display for visitors on the wall about the history of the church. There was a whole bit about how in the Second World War the dome of Abchurch St. Abchurch was hit by a bomb during the Blitz of London (Tessa was an nurse during the Blitz — did you know that?). Most of it was just about the dome and how it was broken and how long it took to fix and who fixed what, but at the end there was a bit about how for safekeeping a number of the church’s more valuable possessions were removed. There was an artist’s rendering of those possessions—I guess most of them didn’t end up coming back to the church—and now at last you get to find out why I’m writing to you and not Magnus!
Right at one end of the illustration was a pair of candlesticks and on the candlesticks, a very familiar symbol indeed. Flames—and not just flames, but the same flames you’ll find on that family ring of yours. And also a big script “L.”
So, any chance you or Isabelle recognize these? Did they get taken out of the church by a Lightwood, or returned to one? I know it’s a long shot but it seems like it would be too big a coincidence for a pair of Shadowhunter candlesticks to randomly be in St. Mary Abchurch. Let me know if the candlesticks ring any bells for you or Izzy and give our love to the kiddies!
Julian
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holylulusworld · 2 months
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Designed by pain (Prologue)
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Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?
Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, language, implied break-up, sadness, rejection, Mary being a bitch, sleazy John
A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.
Designed by pain masterlist
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Live was great. The man you loved proposed to you in the most romantic way. And later, you made love in his old Chevy Impala. The only girl he loved as much as he loved you; according to Dean.
Butterflies still fluttered in your stomach whenever he looked at you.
Everything was fine, great even. Until he invited you for a family dinner to get to know the rest of his family.
You already knew his younger brother. Sam was easy to be around. 
Dean never talked much about the rest of his family. All you knew was his mother came from old money, and his father was a made man. 
The moment you stepped into Mary Winchester’s house, your relationship with Dean was doomed.
Not only did she ignore you for most of the day, but she always invited Dean’s first love, the girl next door. The one and only Lisa Braeden.
You knew that Dean never got over her and accepted that he had a past. Everyone has a past, right?
It felt like someone stabbed you in the back and ripped your heart out at the same time.
But you never were a quitter. Instead of sulking in a corner and watching your fiancé talk to his ex, you decided to remind him what he’s going to lose if he doesn’t get his shit together.
“No, wait. He’s my man. His mother can’t do this to me,” you cursed under your breath." Dean was your man, he even proposed to you. His family just didn’t know yet. “I’ll beat you with your own weapons, bitch.”
You walked back upstairs, entered the room you shared with Dean, and threw on your most sexy dress, killer heels, and no underwear. – To hell with the girl next door. 
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When you walked back down you put on a faked smile and confidently entered the living room again.
Your eyes scanned the room for you man only to watch Dean still talk to Lisa. They laughed, and she touched his arm, giggling like he said the funniest thing she ever heard.
You saw red but didn’t want to act like a jealous bitch in heat. So, you took a deep breath and brushed your concerns off.
“A nice party, huh?” Dean’s father stood a little too close for comfort. “Can’t believe my son got his hands on someone like you.”
John Winchester stank like booze and desperation. You assumed he didn’t get any from the ice queen his wife seemed to be.
“Mr. Winchester,” you excused yourself to walk toward Dean. 
You stopped in your tracks and took another deep breath. Dean ignored you calling his name, even when you put your hand on his shoulder. “Dean, I’m a little tired and I got a terrible headache.”
He didn’t react, too engrossed in listening to what Lisa had to say.
“Later,” he grumbled and didn’t even spare you a glance.
You knew there and then that Dean wasn’t ready to marry you.
Maybe you only were a rebound to him. A woman he could use until Lisa came back into the picture thanks to his mother.
“I thought you have changed. Dean, I believed you moved on from sleeping around when we met. Please don’t prove all the people telling me not to marry you right,” you grabbed his hand and tried to make him face you. 
“Y/N, not now,” he didn’t even hear what you said and waved you off. “Later.”
“Please…We need to talk Dean…it’s not only us any longer,” you whispered the words not daring to speak any louder.
You dropped his hand and stepped away, catching the attention of his whole family when you turned around to run upstairs.
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You cried for what felt like an eternity when it was only a few minutes.
Sam came by after the scene you made in your opinion, but you didn’t open the door.
“I don’t know what to do now,” you wiped your eyes and choked out a sob. Dean changed so fast only because that woman was around. He didn’t act like the man you fell in love with that night.
It took all the strength left in you to change clothing again and pack up all your belongings. If he didn’t come to his senses tonight, maybe tomorrow when he found you gone.
You hastily wrote a few lines, and placed the piece of paper on the bed, along with your engagement ring.
Rereading the lines you choke out another sob.
One night of passion, a life-long responsibility. This is your decision. Are you in or out?  I got a job offer in London and will accept it if you don’t want to be a father yet (or at all).  If you are still the man you made me believe you are, call me tomorrow. If not, have a nice life…
Part 1
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omgthatdress · 1 year
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The fashion nerd in me is utterly thrilled by Felicity’s summer dress. This style of lightweight white cotton dress was eventually referred to as a chemise à la reine, after Marie Antoinette was painted (and immediately hated for) wearing one.
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This style only really became popular for adults in the 1780s, but in the 1770s, it was popular summer-time wear for girls.
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There’s not a whole lot to say about Elizabeth’s dress, it’s again pretty accurate and appropriate for her social status.
The straw hats are not simply straw hats. The proper name for that style is bergère, or shepherdess. They were pretty essential outdoor wear for proper ladies who wanted to protect their fine pale complexions.
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(Kerry Taylor Auctions)
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(The Victoria & Albert Museum)
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(Musée Galliera de la Mode de la Ville de Paris)
Finally, I kind of feel the need to address what’s the elephant in the room when it comes to Felicity:
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Everyone was acting all horrified and outraged by this, but, well.... have I got news for you about middle-class white families in Virginia in 1774. It would be very inaccurate for them to not have slaves.
If we want to get technical, Felicity herself never actually owned slaves. Her father owned a couple of slaves, and her grandfather owned a plantation. When her grandfather died, the plantation would have gone to her father, and then down to her little brother, William. Felicity likely would have grown up to marry a man who owned slaves, but she still wouldn’t own them outright herself. All that being said, there were special no-male-heir circumstances in which women could inherit property, and there absolutely were woman slave-owners out there.
Slavery is a part of American history and honestly it does us more of a disservice if we try to cover it up. The fact that Felicity’s family owns slaves is a great chance to teach kids about the big, messy questions of history. Kids are smart and capable of understanding complex historical issues. They deserve to know this kind of shit.
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harringtonisms · 2 years
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people like us
pairing: steve harrington / eddie munson summary: Five times Amanda Driscoll hears about Mr. Harrington’s wife and the One time she realizes it’s his husband. warnings: some angst in #4 and a slight coming out (to herself) arc, hinted at homophobia (nothing explicit) word count: 7.5k a/n: (10/18/2023): a little after a year from the original post date, i decided to go back and edit it. it's still the same story any rereaders know, but all the little plot holes and issues have been fixed and there's 200 more words to read! thank you for reading &lt;3
(og note): this is based off of this post i made! i will be doing a second part to this that follows eddie's bandmates and meeting steve! i hope you enjoy and any feedback, likes, reblogs, comments, ask, are all appreciated!
Read it on AO3
taglist: @zed-zeppeli @valenschmidt @expectocrucio @rel312 @jonathanbyersbbg @beeing-stuupid @ataztuv @noahzanehethey @ludabug @mavernanche @casualherolightbailiff @purplebellybell @phenomenal-bird @persephone13 @gleefully-macabre @darkqloszed @the-baby-goblin @aryanightshade @jojobeaner @specialagentslut-24 @goodomensgurl
1.  Monday, August 21st, 1995
Amanda was not one to be late, especially on the first day of school. Her steps echoed in the empty hallway as she rushed to her first period class. In one hand she held a tardy slip. In the other was a ripped piece of notebook paper detailing her homeroom class in smudged blue ink. 
Mr. Harrington
 U.S. History
Room 114
Having lived in Hawkins her whole life, she’d been attending the same middle school her older sister and both parents attended. This made her rather familiar with the staff at Hawkins Middle and yet she hadn’t recognized Mr. Harrington’s name. Reaching her classroom, she grabbed the handle and pushed it open. 
All the desks were arranged in groups of four and there were four groups. Hanging from the ceiling, were pieces of laminated paper designating each desk group a number. The walls were covered in different iconic historical quotes, maps of the worlds, and black and white photos of people Amanda assumed were important. On her teacher’s desk was a small globe, a pencil cup, and a clay pot full of various origamis. Her teacher was leaning against his desk, in the middle of a speech when he was interrupted by the squeak of the door being opened. All eyes landed on Amanda and she squirmed under her peers' watchful gaze. She walked shyly over to Mr. Harrington and handed him her pass. 
“Ah, Amanda! Welcome to U.S. History. Uh, here! Grab a syllabus and there’s a free seat at table two! I’m just telling the class a bit about myself.” He smiled politely at her, and motioned toward table two. At table two, Mary and Lj were sitting on the same side, facing the windows, so Amanda chose the seat across from Lj. She quietly sat her stuff down and paid attention to what her teacher was saying. 
“Like I was saying, I was born and raised in Hawkins. I walked these very same halls you did once before! It’s actually where I met my current partner, I just didn’t know it at the time. I started at Ivy Tech college before I transferred to Indiana State Teachers College to get my degree. I lived in Chicago with my spouse for a few years and taught at the local high school, before we moved back this past summer to take care of their dad and here we are! I’m also the coach for the basketball team so information about try-outs will go up soon. Now, enough about me. If you’d take a look at your syllabus…”
Mr. Harrington’s voice faded into ambient noise in the background as she looked around her classroom. He’d met his wife right here in this building, and he didn’t even know it at the time. The person Amanda would marry could be sitting right in front of her and she’d never know until she was finally with them. She glanced around and her eyes landed on Louise-Jane Brooks, or Lj as she was typically called. Amanda immediately looked away, a fierce blush painting her cheeks the same color as her hair. That happened almost every time she looked at Lj. How weird is it that someone she’s known since kindergarten made her so nervous? The sun fitted itself through the blinds behind Amanda and illuminated Lj, like she had her own personal spotlight shining down on her. Brown skin, long braids, deep dark eyes turned to honey, and freckles left over from summer time glittered underneath the light and it stirred up something within Amanda that her mind had trouble reconciling with.
“Any questions?” Mr. Harrington’s voice cut through the Lj related fog in Amanda’s mind and her hand immediately shot up.
“You said you met your wife in middle school. How did you know she was the one?” Amanda forced her eyes to stay on Mr. Harrington despite the strange urge to look back at Lj. 
“Well I didn’t know I’d marry them in middle school. I didn’t know that I’d marry them until way after college. We met in middle school. We were desk partners in our science class and they taught me how to make origami out of our homework sheets.” He picked up the little clay pot on his desk and pulled out what looked like a pencil. “They made me this little pencil for my first day teaching here.” He returned the origami pencil and the clay pot back to their spot on his desk and looked back out toward his students. “Are there any other questions?...No? Alright we’re gonna head down to the library and grab your textbooks so line up!” 
A symphony of chairs screeching against the ground and whispering voices erupted as the students lined up by the door. Much to the delight of Amanda, Lj ended up in front of her. Lj was wearing a baby pink dress with white polka dots and white flats. Amanda tapped Lj’s shoulder and waited for her to turn. She turned and Amanda had to ignore the warmth in her cheeks as she spoke.
“I like your dress!” Lj’s smile grew in response to Amanda’s compliment.
“Thank you, Amy. It has pockets!” and she stuck her hands into the pockets of the dress to show them to Amanda. Amanda went to say something but the line had started to move so she kept her response to herself. 
2. Friday, September 15th, 1995
In the weeks that passed, Amanda found herself looking forward to her first period class more and more. Mr. Harrington made learning about history much more fun than her previous teachers had. Though they had to check out the textbooks in the library provided by the state, Mr. Harrington told them to stack them along the window sill and they sat there everyday, untouched. In class, he told them the real history and explained what actually happened, what the textbooks glossed over or lied about. Instead of reading page after page in their textbooks they got to do fun projects creating poster boards, making dioramas, and even creating their own political cartoons. 
Amanda has also been early everyday. She was sitting in her regular seat waiting for class to start, when two boys walked in, talking excitedly about some band she’d never heard of. 
“Did you hear about the first Corroded Coffin show last night in Indianapolis? Apparently people were camping outside the venue for 2 nights to try and score tickets! I want to see them on tour so bad!” Mr. Harrington peaked his head up from the paper he was writing on and joined the boys’ conversation. 
“You guys like Corroded Coffin? I know those guys, we all went to high school together.” Mr. Harrington said. He looked off to the side, brows furrowed as he thought about something. “Maybe I can ask them to come for career day in October?”
The two boys gasped excitedly and started asking their teachers questions about the band and how he met them. Mary, who sat diagonally across from Amanda, sighed. Amanda watched, Mary, who had her head in her hands, gazing dreamily at Mr. Harrington. 
“Isn’t he just so handsome, Amanda?” Mary said, turning to look at her. Amanda wrinkled her nose in response. Sure, Mr. Harrington wasn’t ugly but she couldn’t see what it was about him that made all the girls trip over themselves. No matter if they were in the cafeteria during lunch or in the library for study hall, she was subject to hearing theories of what Mr. Harrington’s wife looked like, and whispers of ‘She’s so lucky’. Amanda didn’t get any of it. Still, she wanted to fit in, so she pretended. He wore the same style glasses that she did, so at least she could compliment him without lying. To herself or her classmates.
“Um, I like his glasses.” She replied. Avoiding Mary’s piercing gaze, she decided pulling her pencil bag out was a smart move. 
“I don’t know, Amy,” Lj said, looking up from her book. “I think Miss. Rosario is prettier than Mr. Harrington. She would never come to school with her shirt so wrinkled.” Lj glanced at Mr. Harrington once more before going back to her book. Mary flipped her long, blonde hair over her shoulder, before she raised her hand. Next to her, Amanda’s eyes were glued to Lj. Miss Rosario was pretty. Super pretty. If everyone was talking about that, she’d understand one hundred percent. She forced herself to look away when Mr. Harrington started speaking. 
“Yes, Mary?” 
“You don’t normally come to school with your shirt so wrinkled. Why today?” She asked. Mr. Harrington looked down at his shirt and inspected the wrinkles and huffed. He was wearing a plain blue and white striped polo, and jeans since it was a friday. 
“Thank you…for pointing that out, Mary. For your information, normally my partner irons my shirts every morning while I make breakfast, but they’ll be away for the next month on a work trip, and I was in a rush and forgot to do it.” He walked back around behind his desk and grabbed the hawkins middle hoodie that was hanging on the back of his desk chair and put it on. “There, Now no one can see the wrinkles.” He raised his eyebrows, as if to say ‘is this okay’ and Mary nodded as she giggled
“Why does your wife always iron your shirts? Why don’t you iron your own shirts and she makes breakfast?” Janet asked. 
“Well, Janet, if you must know, they like to pick out my clothes, and I’m the only one who can cook so it just works out.” Mr. Harrington replied. A few awws came from the crowd and he waved them away. “Yes, it’s all very sweet and domestic and all that jazz. Now, who can tell me where we left off yesterday.” 
 3. Tuesday, October 3rd, 1995
“Yo, Mr. H, what’s that thing on your nose?” It was right before class began, and Mr. Harrington had just turned around from writing their new essay prompt on the board. Right in the center of his face was a scratch, from the bridge of his nose to underneath his eye. Amanda was by the door, sharpening her pencil for the lesson.
“Well Good Morning to you too, Gerald. That thing on my nose is a scratch. My partner came home for the weekend and we ended up adopting some kittens last night. Three of them actually, so in the whole mess of transporting 3 kittens back to our home…” He gestured to his face and then shrugged. 
“What did you name the kittens?” A voice said from the back. 
“Sabbath, Kirk, and Abba.” His lips pursed, as if he was trying to suppress his smile. 
“Why those names?” Amanda asked before she could stop herself. She recognized Abba because her older sister was always blasting it through her walkman, but the other two names were unfamiliar. She assumed they probably also had to do with music but she wasn't sure what they were references to. 
“Well Sabbath and Kirk are nods to my partners favorite bands. The last cat was named Abba because I occasionally play them and my partner loves to tease me for it. Says I need to be introduced to ‘real music’.” Mr. Harrington had an exasperated look on his face, but you could hear the fondness in his voice as he talked about his partner. He glanced over at his origami pot, which Amanda noted now had a black cat added to it. She spun to walk back to her desk with her newly sharpened pencils when Lj walked into class, beating the bell by a few seconds and immediately caught Amanda’s attention.
“Woah, Amy! You wore your hair down today?” Lj said, and stopped when she saw the redhead by the door. Amanda typically kept her hair in a ponytail and her bangs neatly trimmed just above her eyebrows to keep her curls from falling into her face while she worked. Today though, she had a black and white striped headband settled behind her bangs, the rest of her curly hair falling down to her shoulders. “I really like it like this. You look extra pretty.” Lj offered her a small smile and made her way to her seat. Amanda's hand flew to her hair and her jaw fell open a bit, eyes tracking Lj’s movements as she walked away. 
Lj thought she was extra pretty with her hair down. Extra. Like she always thought Amanda was pretty, but with her hair down…she was more, pretty. Additionally pretty. Especially pretty. Her gaze slowly left Lj and landed on Mr. Harrington who was watching her with an expression on his face that she couldn’t quite place. He shook his head in amusement and then pointed to her desk with his chin. It took her feet a few seconds to catch up with her brain and move, but she made it to her seat. As she sat down, Gerald called out to her teacher.
“Wait Mr. H, I’m confused. Why did y’all get 3 kitties in the first place?” Mr. Harrington sighed and ran a hand down his face, wincing when he made contact with the scratch. 
“We couldn’t separate the siblings. Or, my partner didn’t want to separate them and…who am I to stop them. So we got three kittens.” His eyes widened like he still couldn’t believe it. 
“Will you bring them in so we can meet them?” Kendra asked hopefully. Amanda knew she wanted to be a veterinarian so it made sense that she’d ask. That was the cool thing about going to school with the same kids all her life. She knew so many little things about them and what their aspirations were. Gerald was out of this world smart so he’d decided he would either be a lawyer or a doctor, whichever paid more. Mary wanted to be a famous actress, Janet loved science, and Lj was a writer like no other. 
Amanda imagined hanging out with Lj in the future. Lj as a world famous journalist for the New York Times and Amanda working somewhere with numbers. They would both live in New York because Lj would want a friend there and they’ll live in the same apartment to save money and they’ll share a room because what if it’s lonely and she’ll get to wake up to Lj and fall asleep with Lj and grocery shop with Lj and
Amanda sat up straighter in her seat and shook her head as if to shake those thoughts out of her mind. She reminded herself to leave those types of thoughts to when she was alone and tuned back into the ongoing conversation.
“Sorry Kendra, can’t do that. I have a kid in my third and seventh period classes with allergies to fur.”
“What if your wife brings them, and then after this class period, she takes them back home?” Someone else suggested. Mr. Harrington chuckled to himself and dropped his head, letting it hang for a moment.
“That won’t be possible, they’re on a work trip, remember. Maybe I’ll bring a picture in so you all can see.” He offered, looking around to see if that would appease his students. 
“But we want to see your wife! You’re always talking about her!” That comment came from Mary. Mr. Harrington laughed again and Amanda wondered what was so funny. 
“Ok ok, I see what’s going on here. You’re trying to get me to talk about my personal life so we don’t start those essays today huh? Unluckily for you, I was a student once so I know all your tricks! Come on, let’s get class started.” A few tried to protest, but eventually they grabbed their notebooks and flipped to fresh pages. 
As Amanda worked, her hair continued to fall into her face. She resisted the urge to tie it back into its signature ponytail, instead opting to tuck her hair behind her ear constantly. Louise-Jane Brooks thinks Amanda Driscoll is extra pretty with her hair down and Amanda decided it was normal to want another girl to think she’s pretty, so she kept her hair down.
 4. Friday, October 13th, 1995
“Mr. Harrington, what was high school like for you?” 
That day, the eighth grade class had a field trip to the high school now that their first marking period was nearly over. The class was pretty chatty now that they were back in their classroom waiting for the dismissal bell to ring. They were all standing around Mr. Harrington’s desk, a few sitting on the student desks behind them. They quieted down when they heard the question asked. 
“I was pretty popular in high school, was co-captain of the swim team, fought some monsters, skipped prom, then I graduated and met the love of my life.” Mr. Harrington was staring upwards, like he was checking off an imaginary list in his mind. Immediately, a gaggle of questions were shouted out at him. His eyes widened in shock and he put his hands up in surrender. “Woahhh guys, one a time, let me see some hands. McKenzie, what’s your question?”
“I thought you met your wife in middle school?” A few ‘yeah’s came from the group as they recalled what Mr. Harrington told them on the first day of class. 
“That is technically right. I did meet them in middle school and we were friends for that science class we shared. Then we drifted apart until after I graduated. We reconnected during the whole fighting monsters thing after high school and ever since then it’s been me and them.”
“What do you mean by fighting monsters?” Another person asked. Mr. Harrington only shrugged. His arms, which were hanging down by his sides, wrapped around his stomach. “Whatever you think it means, Kevin.”
“He’s probably talking about some game or movie,” Someone commented from the back of the group to their friend. Mr. Harrington didn’t acknowledge them, only staring out the window. The kids begin to break off into separate conversation when the bell rings to dismiss for the day. 
“Hey Amy,” Lj said, approaching her as the crowd started to disperse and leave Amanda, Lj, and their teacher behind. Mr. Harrington yelled out a ‘See you tomorrow and made good decisions!’ as he sat back behind his desk. The two girls were standing in the aisle between table one and table two, a few feet from the front of Mr. Harrington’s desk. She noticed her teacher start to look for something on his desk. 
“I’m surprised you’re still here, normally you're first out the door.” She commented. Amanda smiled at the thought of Lj paying that much attention to her.
“I have Chess Club afterschool today so my mom will get me at four. I don’t have to catch the bus.” Lj hummed in acknowledgement before speaking again.
“So…I just moved to a new house, and I finally finished decorating my room. If it’s okay with your mom, my mom said I could invite people over now.” Lj had a delicate smile on her face as her fingers played with the hem of her t-shirt before being stuffed into the pockets of her jeans.
“Um, yeah of course! I’d love to! How do I tell you if my mom said it’s ok?” Amanda said, smiling so widely she knew her cheeks would ache later. 
“Uhhhh,” Lj looked around, before taking a few steps and grabbing a marker out of Mr. Harrington’s pencil cup. Amanda trailed behind her. Lj grabbed Amanda’s arm and wrote down a series of numbers on her forearm. Amanda could see that Mr. Harrington was now fumbling for something within his desk. Lj let her hand fall from Amanda’s forearms to her hand. 
“There. That’s my home phone number, just call me when you ask your mom! I hope she says yes. I got this jewelry making kit so we can like, make bracelets and stuff! Bye, Amy! Call me! Even if you can't come over!” Lj squeezed Amanda’s hand before letting go and walking out the classroom. 
Amanda was rooted in her spot, the path LJ’s fingers took burned into her skin. Having feelings for Lj had gone from manageable to completely unbearable from that one interaction. How was she supposed to walk around everyday not aching to touch her again? To feel the weight of Lj’s hand in hers and have her small, kind, infectious smile directed at Amanda. Her fingers traced the numbers on her arm as she reimagined her Saturday plans. She was shaken from her daydream when a throat cleared. Her head snapped to the source of the noise, and she met eyes with Mr. Harrington. Realizing he watched that entire interaction, her smile dropped. She knew exactly what he was thinking. It was the same things her parents whispered in the kitchen when they thought she was asleep in the living room.
“That wasn’t what it looked like. I don’t have a crush on Lj.” Mr. Harrington only raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. 
“I…I didn’t say you did.” He replied. 
Amanda’s cheeks burned a deep red as she realized he didn’t say that. He didn’t say anything. She assumed she knew what he was thinking and just dug herself into a hole. She looked away embarrassed, feeling the burn of restrained tears behind her eyes. She’d just come to terms herself with what those feelings inside her meant. She wasn’t ready to deal with what it meant to openly like girls. But now she’d have to, Mr. Harrington was going to tell her mom. 
“Please don’t tell anyone,” She whispered, looking away when a few tears fell. Mr. Harrington’s eyes widened in shock. He jumped up from his desk, walked around to the front, and kneeled in front of Amanda.
“Hey, hey, hey don't cry. I won’t tell anyone anything you don’t want me to. There’s nothing for me to tell, Amanda. Promise.” He reassured, his hands flailing about in front of him as he spoke. He offered a comforting squeeze on the shoulder before shifting to sit criss-cross in front of his desk, using it to lean on. 
Amanda watched Mr. Harrington as he sat on the floor and made himself comfortable. He looked up at Amanda and patted the spot next to him. She sat down with him, legs stretched into the aisle in front of them and her back pressed up against Mr. Harrington’s desk. She took her glasses off and wiped her eyes, and Mr. Harrington pushed his glasses into his hair and began to speak. 
“If I may ask, what is it… that I'm not telling?” He asked, voice gentle. 
“I don’t think you’d understand.” She said, voice shaky with unshed tears. 
“Maybe…maybe not. But you never know unless you tell me. If you want to, of course.” He said as he watched Amanda carefully.
“How do you feel about your wife?” She asked him, finger aimlessly prodding at the linoleum floors. 
“My partner is the best gift that I could have ever been given. They’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid my eyes on. The kindest, most compassionate, and genuine person I know. And they’re hilarious, they make me laugh like never before. I used to dread going home, but now that they’re there, I can’t wait to get back to them everyday. Everything leads back to them, and I’m never not thinking about them, or missing them, or loving them. They are the center of my universe and every planet surrounding it.” 
The two sat in silence for a moment after. Amanda wondered what it would be like to love a girl so fully. To love a girl so much that her mere presence made the stars shine brighter and air seem crisper. To love a girl, and be free to tell anyone who asked. 
“I want,” she started. “I want to be allowed to feel that way about a girl.” Amanda nearly whispered the end of her sentence, the force of hearing her voice admit that out loud for the first time knocked the air out of her.
“You are allowed to feel that way about a girl.” Mr. Harrington said, shifting to face Amanda better. She turned to look at him, red rimmed eyes meeting earnest ones. “My best friend and her wife moved to San Francisco so that they could. They’re much more open minded out there. When I lived in Chicago, you heard about people like us out there way more than you did here in Hawkins.” Amanda’s brows knitted in confusion. 
“People like us?” She asked. Mr. Harrington nodded. 
“People like us,” He confirmed. Amanda let the weight of both their confessions settle in the air. Other people felt this way. Mr. Harrington did. And so did his best friend and her wife. And the people in San Francisco and in Chicago. She wasn’t the only person who felt. Amanda let her worries be temporarily soothed by the comfort of knowing she wasn’t a freak or a mistake. She wiped her eyes again, put her glasses back on, and pushed herself off the floor. She looked up at the clock which read 3:12. Chess Club started in three minutes. 
“I have to go, I don’t want to be late…but thank you, Mr. Harrington.” Amanda said, voice quiet. 
“Anytime, Amanda. My door is always open.” And she didn’t doubt that. Not many people in Hawkins knew how she felt, but Mr. Harrington did and that was more than she thought. 
 5. Monday, October 15th, 1995
When Amanda walked into her homeroom class the following day, the first thing she noticed was the new poster up by the chalkboard. It was a plain beige rectangle with rainbow patterned letters, spelling out “YOU ARE SAFE HERE.” Amanda’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes immediately searched for Mr. Harrington, but he was busy talking to one of her classmates. She walked to her seat, reveling in the warmth that grew in her chest from how nice it was to be cared for like this.
As Amanda placed her arm on her desk, she felt the delicious bite of the gems on her bracelet sink into the skin of her wrist. She lifted her wrist to inspect the new jewelry she made with Lj. There were pink, orange, and red beads patterned on her bracelet, while Lj’s had a pink, blue, and purple pattern. Both bracelets however, had “LJ&AMY”. Her right hand came up and she ran her fingers over the beads, and smiled fondly as she remembered her weekend with Lj. Memories of bracelet making, pizza, karaoke, and sharing a banana split sundae filled her mind. Amanda looked ahead of her and saw that Lj was already staring at her. She smiled at her and waved shyly. Lj giggled and waved back. 
“I like your bracelet,” She said, smiling back at Amanda. Amanda stuck her hand wrist out proudly to show off the bracelet Lj helped her make. 
“Why thank you, it’s custom made, one of a kind,” She laughed again, but was interrupted by one of her classmates yelling over the chatter in the classroom. 
“How was your weekend, Mr. H,” Gerald asked. 
“It was pretty good. I went down to Lovers Lake with my partner and they had a picnic set up. It was very sweet. They even made me a flower crown by hand. We also saw some of our friends from back in the day.” He responded.
“Wow, Mr. H, your wife sounds mad sweet.” Gerald responded, his fingers absentmindedly twirling one of his locs. 
“Right,” Kendra piped in from the back corner. “Everytime you say something about her it’s always something so gentle. Like she taught you how to make origami, and she irons your clothes, made you adopt all those cats, now a picnic at Lovers’ Lake and a handmade flower crown? She’s like, the sweetest woman in the world.” Kendra said, recalling all the kind things Mr. Harrington’s partner did for him.
“I wish you guys paid this much attention to what I say when i’m teaching, how did you even remember all of that?” Kendra only shrugs and Mr. Harrington sighs. “Anyways, what about you guys, what did you get up to this weekend?” Immediately Lj’s hand went up and Mr. Harrington called on her. She reached her hand out to Amanda, who immediately clasped her fingers around Lj’s.
“Well Amy came over to my house and we did a bunch of fun stuff like go to the mall and get pizza, but we also made these matching bracelets.” Lj then stuck their conjoined hands in the air so their classmates could see the bracelets, even if it was a bit awkward with all that space between the two girls. 
Amanda’s grin grew impossibly bigger and she looked at Mr. Harrington who raised his brows in pleasant surprise.
“That’s very nice girls, my partner and my best friend have a matching pair of purple converse that they decorated together actually. Janet, what about you? How was your weekend?” Mr. Harrington went on, letting his students tell him all about their weekend before they started class. Amanda couldn’t pay much attention to what her classmates were saying though, savoring every second Lj kept her in hand in Amanda’s.
“Don’t you think it’s kind of weird how Mr. Harrington never just says ‘my wife’?” Mary whispered to her tablemates. Amanda froze for a moment, considering Mary’s words. Lj squeezed Amanda’s hand before letting go and picking up her pencil to take notes since Mr. Harrington was now starting the lesson. Amanda didn’t follow her lead. Instead, she ran back every time Mr. Harrington brought up his wife. 
“Then I lived in Chicago with my spouse for a few years…”
“...normally my partner irons my shirts every morning…”
“Everything leads back to them, and I’m never not thinking about them, or missing them, or loving them.”
Why didn’t Mr. Harrington just say ‘my wife’ instead of ‘my partner’? Why did he always say ‘they’ instead of ‘she’? Amanda’s mind reminded her of their conversation afterschool on friday. 
“When I lived in Chicago, you heard about people like us way more than here in Hawkins.”
People like…us. 
Her eyes darted to the new poster hanging up in their class. You are safe here. Her eyes drifted to Mr. Harrington as the realization dawned on her. Why Mr. Harrington was so specific about how he referred to his partner. Why he didn’t have a picture of them on his desk like her other teachers do. 
Mr. Harrington…doesn’t have a wife. He has a husband.
 +1. Tuesday, October 16th, 1995
It was career fair day so after lunch instead of heading to her algebra class, Amanda met up with Lj in front of the gym to browse all the different jobs that came to present that day. She almost tripped over her feet in excitement once she spotted Lj. She quickened her pace, nearly running over one of the 6th graders. The two girls embraced before linking arms as they walked into the gym together. 
They stopped by the doctor table and the accounting table, and ran past the construction table giggling. They visited the journalism table so Lj could talk with the woman there. She had a short, curly bob and a name tag that read “Miss Wheeler”. Amanda looked around and spotted Mr. Harrington toward the back of the fair talking with another man with unruly, curly hair. The long haired man smiled at Mr. Harrington and knocked the educators shoulder with his own. 
Amanda told Lj she would be right back and headed in their direction. Upon arriving, Mr. Harrington’s friend stepped away from him and approached Amanda. He was wearing a t-shirt that said “The Devil Was Once an Angel” and ripped black jeans. He had many rings on his fingers and various chains hanging off his belt loops. He had multiple tattoos all along his arms and stuck to the front of his chest was a name tag that read “Mr. Munson”.
Looking at his display, she saw a speaker, quietly playing metal music and a black and red electric guitar on a stand next to it. There were pictures of the long haired man on stage with 3 other guys and a notebook open with what looked like song lyrics. Next to the notebook, there were some tickets for a band called ‘Corroded Coffin’. Amanda racked her memory trying to remember why the name sounded familiar. 
“Amanda!” Mr. Harrington greeted. He turned and faced Mr. Munson. “Mr. Munson, this is that student I told you about. Amanda, this is Eddie Munson, lead guitarist, lead vocals, and songwriter for his band.” Mr. Harrington looked at Eddie proudly, and placed a hand on each shoulder, in a weird sort of side hug.
“Thank you for that lovely introduction, Mr. Harrington,” Mr. Munson said, grinning widely. He then turned to Amanda. “What kind of music do you listen to, Red?” He had his hands clasped together, his two pointer fingers pressed against his lips. 
“Uhh, I guess I listen to a lot of pop music. My older sister introduced me to someone called Madonna? I mainly listen to my sister's old tapes so whatever she has,” Amanda responded. 
Mr. Munson gasped, dramatically clutching his hand to his chest where his heart would be. 
“Oh you poor thing! You’re a lost little sheep, just like Stevie here. He only listens to whatever’s on the top 40. AKA, Not. Real. Music.” She giggled and Mr. Munson smiled at her in a way where she knew he was only teasing. Amanda could see Mr. Harrington roll his eyes but smile, as Mr. Munson grabbed the speaker that was on his table. He pulled it closer to the front of the table so she could hear the music playing better. Mr. Munson looked around quickly before whispering to Amanda. “You won’t tell anyone if this song says any bad words will you,” His questioning gaze turned into a devilish grin when Amanda smiled and shook her head. “I knew there was a reason you were his favorite” Her feet tapped in excitement as she glanced quickly to her teacher. 
Mr. Munson turns the music up slightly and lets the heavy bass and electric guitar fill the air around them. 
“That is my band's latest single, ��Trials’. It’s about some stuff that your teacher and I went through back in high school.” He said.
“You guys knew each other in high school?” Amanda asked, bewildered. How did her polo-wearing, mr. popular, not a hair out of place history teacher become friends with a man so completely different from him?
“Well we knew of each other in high school, we were friends in middle school for a little while. We reconnected around this time of my senior year. 1986, can you believe that was 10 years ago, Stevie?” Where had she heard that before? Where did she know this man from? She can’t recall ever seeing him before, so why do his words sound so familiar? Amanda pushed those questions out of her head, and instead decided to ask him questions about his work since that is what he was there for.  
“Do all the inspirations for your songs come from your life? How do you not run out of things to write about?” Amanda asked. 
“What a wonderful question, Red. I do get a lot of inspiration from my real life. Take this weekend for example, Me and Mr. Harrington—or Mr.Harrington and I, Miss O’Donnell would kill me if she heard me say that.” Mr. Munson said that last part to Mr. Harrington before he turned back to Amanda. “Like I was saying, Stevie and I went out to the lake and afterwards we got to meet up with some of our old friends. I got some inspiration from that experience to write about reminiscing on good times. The song that just played for you right now, is also about the past but it’s about how the past changes us today. So while I may use the same base for songs,...” 
Amanda started to lose focus as Mr. Munson explained his songwriting process. Mr. Harrington also said he was at Lovers’ Lake with his partner and that he met up with old friends this weekend. She understood them hanging out as old friends, they knew each other since middle school apparently. But how could Mr. Munson have been at Lovers’ Lake too? 
Amanda looks at Mr. Harrington, opening her mouth to ask a question when she stops herself. Mr. Harrington. That’s who she’s heard this from before. She looked back at the tickets on the table. “Corroded Coffin” She realizes that’s the band he was talking about that one day. She runs her entire conversation with Mr. Munson back in her mind matching it to the things she heard Mr. Harrington say in class. 
‘’The last cat was named Abba because I occasionally play them and my partner loves to tease me for it. Says I need to be introduced to ‘real music’”
“You’re a lost little sheep, just like Stevie here. He only listens to whatever’s on the top 40. AKA, Not. Real. Music.” 
“We reconnected during the whole fighting monsters thing after high school.”
“We reconnected around this time of my senior year.”
“Stevie and I went out to the lake and afterwards we got to meet up with some of our old friends.”
“I went down to Lovers Lake with my partner…We also saw some of our friends from back in the day.”
Amanda looked away from the table, looking between both Mr. Munson and Mr. Harrington. Mr. Harrington was watching Mr. Munson as he explained something Amanda wasn't paying much attention to with rapt fascination. His eyes were soft and his smile was adoring. His arms were crossed casually across his chest and he leaned slightly toward Mr. Munson, like the musician had a magnetic pull on him. 
Like Mr. Munson was the center of his universe. 
Amanda gasped loudly, effectively cutting off Mr. Munson’s spiel and drawing attention from a few of the neighboring tables. They all turned away when Amanda’s face broke into a wide grin, assuming her gasp was from excitement. Both Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson were staring at Amanda with confusion on their faces. 
“Are you…okay, Red?” Mr. Munson asked as he stepped backwards to inspect Amanda, consequently getting into Mr. Harrington’s personal space. Her history teacher didn’t budge when there were only a mere few inches separating them. She peeked around them, searching for Lj and finding her talking to Gerald in front of the lawyers table. She turned back to the two men in front of her and kept her voice low when she spoke. 
“Mr. Harrington doesn’t have a wife,” She paused for dramatic effect, something she learned from Mary, and let the two men share a glance before looking back to her. “He has a husband.” She clapped her hands, excited by her discovery. It all made sense now. Realization washed over both Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson. They looked at each other, Mr. Munson pursing his lips to suppress a smile and Mr. Harrington with both hands on his hips and an exasperated look on his face.
“How did you piece that together from my presentation?” Mr. Munson asked, head tilted in amusement.
“It wasn’t your presentation, it was the stuff you said before you started talking about the music. Mr. Harrington talks about you all the time in class. The stuff you said right now matched up to what Mr. Harrington said before and all the signs, the poster, ‘People like us...It just clicked right now. What all that meant.” Amanda said, hands waving wildly in front of her. They froze mid-air when another realization washed over her. Her eyebrows knit up in confusion as she looked Mr. Munson over once more. 
“You…with the tattoos, and the rings, and the chains, and the all black clothes…adopted three kittens? And you iron Mr. Harrington’s clothes every morning? And planned a picnic out on Lovers’ Lake? You taught Mr. Munson to make little origamis? Made him a flower crown? That was you? But you look so…” Amanda paused looking for the words. Mr. Munson glanced over his shoulder at Mr. Harrington with the widest grin she’d ever seen. “You look so, not the type.”
“I told you all those years ago, Stevie. Forced conformity. It’s killing the kids.” He turned back to Amanda. “It’s 1995 Little Red, people are so much more than their stereotypes.” 
Amanda stared at Mr. Munson, soaking in all the new information, when another question popped in her mind. 
“Wait. If you’re both boys, how did you get married?” She kept her voice low, so the other tables wouldn’t over hear her. Mr. Munson crouched down to Amanda’s level. 
“Well, to the government, marriage is a piece of paper saying ‘This is who I chose!’. And tax benefits. We didn't need a piece of paper and a big fancy party, though we did have one, to say that we chose each other for life. I love him. And the government doesn’t get to tell me if that’s okay or not, it is okay.” Mr. Munson then looked up at Mr. Harrington from his spot on the floor. They shared a look, one that said a million more words than they’d be allowed in such a public place.
Amanda looked away from them, the connection between the two becoming almost suffocating. It was so surreal to be standing in front of two people who understood what she was going through. They went through it already and came out the other end. They were living breathing proof that it’s not always this hard, and it’s not always this confusing. That one day you’ll be able to wake up every morning next to the love of your life, no matter their gender. You’ll get to visit your favorite spots from your childhood as you grow old together. That we get a fancy wedding and the promise to be together forever too. They were proof that our fate isn’t subject to becoming a forgotten name in the newspaper for a case the police won’t try to solve. People like us, get to have our happily ever after, and Amanda was looking right at one. She couldn’t quite put into words what that meant to her.
On top of that, Mr. Munson wasn’t anything like she’d expected. Besides the fact that she was expecting a woman up until yesterday, he wasn’t anything like she expected for someone who presented themself like he did. He was kind and gentle while being loud and dramatic. He picked flowers for his husband with the same hands he used to shred electric guitar. He was unapologetically himself, even if that confused some people. Amanda looked forward to the day she could say the same about herself.
Mr. Harrington offered Mr. Munson a hand, and helped him off the floor when Lj approached the table. 
“There you are Amy, I was wondering where you went,” Lj immediately reached for Amanda’s hand and interlocked their fingers, like she couldn't go another second without touching Amanda. Mr. Munson offered a small, knowing smile.  “Are you done here? I heard the veterinary table is giving out cookies shaped like dinosaurs!” 
Amanda looked away from Lj and back up at Mr. Munson and Mr. Harrington. 
“After the promotion ceremony, and we’re officially high schoolers…am I still allowed to come back and say hi?” Amanda asked. Sure, it was only October but Mr. Harrington had already changed her life in such an irrevocable way. When she gets her first girlfriend or when she moves away to find people who are like her, it’ll be because Mr. Harrington was the first person who told her that it was okay and that she wasn’t alone.
“Of course, Amanda. Come back anytime! I’d love to hear about how high school goes for you. Even beyond that!” Mr. Harrington said. They shared a smile, and she let Lj pull her away. 
“So you talk about me in class all the time, huh?” Mr. Munson teased as Amanda walked away.
“Go back on tour,” was her teacher's reply.
I don't know if i really have the words to explain what this fic means to me and how cathartic it was to write. Thank you for reading <3
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tallteenturtle · 22 days
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Nancy Drew: Curse of Blackmoor Manor
I fell down a bit of a heraldry rabbit hole recently and decided to spend several hours compiling info about the Penvellyn family off the wiki and then used online heraldry resources to analyze their individual coat of arms. Did the game devs intend the shields to be interpreted this way? Probably not. But if I dont over-analyze 20 year old childrens computer games what else am I going to do with my life??
Here are all the people whose portraits hang in the great hall along with info we learn about them from Jane (and occasionally Nigel), their coat of arms, and my amateur interpretation of the symbolism.
Randulf ( - 1401)
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“Randulf the Red, so named for his bright red hair, was considered a hero at the Battle of Poitiers. For his heroism, King Edward III awarded him with the lands in the region called "Penvellyn". That's how we got our name.”
Randulf's coat of arms says "IN HOC SIGNO" which translates to "in this sign (you will conquer)"
Comet; unknown in heraldry but refers to the family treasure
Red; Military might, warrior.
(putting the rest under the cut to save you much scrolling)
Odo (1354 – 1404)
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“Yeah, he isn't very exciting, really. Liked farming and cows. His son Milo is much more interesting.”
“Those Manuscripts are very old and brittle. They date back to the 14th century. Odo Penvellyn collected most of them. His father Randulf and son Milo were rather more interested in military victories than in book collecting.”
Odo's coat of arms says "PROSPERITAS" which translates to "success".
Milo (1376 – 1423)
Green; Hope, joy, loyalty
Deer/hart; One who will not fight unless provoked, peace and harmony
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“Milo inherited not only his grandfather's red hair but his military prowess. Milo was instrumental in the Siege of Caen and was awarded even more lands by Henry V.”
Milo's coat of arms says "VICTUM INVIDEO SILENTE" which translates to "the conquered shall envy the dead".
Hugo (1401 – 1466)
Comet; unknown in heraldry
Red; Military might, warrior
Teardrop; “One who has endured torrents”
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“Um, he had a lot of kids, and his dates were 1401 to 1466.”
Hugo's coat of arms says "CITO FIT QUOD DEI VOLUNT" which translates to "what the gods want happens soon".
Albert (1427 – 1508)
Bee; Industrious, diligent
Acorn; Antiquity, strength
Red; Military might, warrior
Green; Hope, joy, loyalty
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“He was very mysterious and the people of Blackmoor were afraid of him because he knew all these scientific things. No one knows much about him, though.”
Albert's coat of arms says "TIMENDI CAUSA EST NESCIRE" which translates to "ignorance is the cause of fear".
Edmund (1447 – 1499)
Book (open); Manifestation, knowledge
Blue; Truth, loyalty
Green; Hope, joy, loyalty
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“He was into cows. He did a lot of breeding of cows and sheep and got some kind of award from the King.”
Edmund's coat of arms says "UT SEMENTUM FECERIS ITA METES" which translates to "As you sow, so shall you reap".
Charles (1478 – 1553)
Hawk (Falcon): One who does not rest until objective achieved, purpose, goal-oriented
Red; Military might, warrior
Blue; Truth, loyalty
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"Ooh, ooh - Charles was a very famous judge and wrote very important books on law. But his boy, Garrett, drowned when he was really young.”
Charles's coat of arms says "MINIMA MAXIMA SUNT" which translates to "The smallest things are the most important".
Thomas (1526 – 1584)
Rainbow; Good times after bad
Moon; Serene power over the mundane
Sun; Creativity and enlightenment
Blue; Truth, loyalty
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“He was Charles's grandson and wrote a lot of poetry. He also had 3 wives: Catherine, Anne, and Mary. But not like at the same time. They died and he just remarried.”
Thomas's coat of arms says "AGE PRO VIRIBUS" which translates to "in all that you do, do your best".
James (1560 – 1650)
Eagle (2 heads); Joining 2 strong forces
Purple; Nobility and justice
Green; Hope, joy, loyalty
T is presumably for Thomas, no heraldic meaning
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“He never married but one day, when he was very old, a baby was found on the doorstep to the manor. He took her in and raised her as his own. That was Elinor.”
James's coat of arms says "ARS LONGA" which translates to "art lives long" (from the phrase, ars longa vita brevis - art is long, life is short).
Elinor (1626 – 1650)
Maltese cross; Blessings, protection
Red; Military might, warrior
Green; Hope, joy, loyalty
Blue; Truth, loyalty
Purple; Nobility and justice
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“Just that she was burned as a witch but it wasn't true and her father, James, died when he saw her die and then the family fled to France. I don't want to talk about this.”
Elinor's coat of arms says "AUDACES FORTUNA IUVAT" which translates to "fortune favors the bold".
Corbin (1670 – 1741)
Lion rampant; Courage, integrity, strength
Red; Military might, warrior
Purple; Nobility and justice
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“Uh…I dunno. He doesn't have a coat of arms in the Great Hall because he didn't live here; wasn't even a British subject. That's all I know.”
Corbin's coat of arms says "NUNQUAM DEDISCEO" which translates to "never forget".
This shield is notably absent from the great hall, and also is the only one to feature decoration on the outside of the shield.
Sun; Fountain of life, intelligence, innovation, creativity, enlightenment
Wheat; Faithful
Vines/Ivy; Strong and lasting friendship, academia
Philippe (1689 – 1777)
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“He made a fortune in the New World and bought back most of the lands that were confiscated by Cromwell.”
Philippe's coat of arms says "NOVUS MUNDUS" which translates to "a new world".
Penelope (1714 – 1783)
Fleur de Lis; Symbol of France
Purple; Nobility and justice
Blue; Truth, loyalty
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“I don't know very much about her, except that she was very loved by practically everyone in England, and there were a million poems written about her.”
“Those are mainly Penelope Penvellyn's collections of French novels. She was a patron to a raft of artists, and her salon was quite popular. She was quite the libertine, even kept her maiden name after her marriage.”
Penelope's coat of arms says "PULCHRITUDO IN OMNIA" which translates to "there is beauty in all things".
Martha (1739 – 1791)
Pegasus; Poetic genius and inspiration
Fleur de lis; Symbol of France
Lion rampant; Courage and integrity
Wheel; fortune, cycle of life
Purple; Nobility and justice
Red; Military might, warrior
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“She was completely daft - she'd wear really bizarre outfits and she was one of the first women to ride on a steam train.” (This is particularly impressive as the steam train did not exist until 10 years after her death. Oops!)
Martha's coat of arms says "SINE SCIENTIA ARS NIHIL EST" which translates to "without understanding, art is nothing".
Brigitte (1759 – 1833)
Unicorn; Extreme courage, virtue, strength.
Teardrop symbolism; “One who has endured torrents” gold means generosity or elevation of the mind.
The gear and atom are not traditional heraldic symbols but can represent progress and science.
Red; Military might, warrior
Green; Hope, joy, loyalty
Blue; Truth, loyalty
Purple; Nobility and justice
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“She never married and was bonkers for astronomy; she adopted her sister's son, Richard, who later got killed at Waterloo."
Brigitte's coat of arms says "LUDI SINE GAUDIO LUDI NON SUNT" which translates to "sport without fun is not sport."
"Brigitte with her eyes so bright, looks toward heaven at midnight on the longest night of year, that's the one she holds most dear. 'Starry friends,' she's often heard to say, 'how I wish that I could make you stay.' She knows though they can't remain, time will bring them 'round again."
Only shield to have white decorations on the colored background
Star; Divine quality from above
Dove; Loving constancy and peace
Compass; Direction
Purple; Nobility and justice
Richard (1787 – 1815)
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“He died in Waterloo fighting against Napoleon.”
Richard's coat of arms says "SI SIC OMNES" which translates to "if only this could last forever".
Edward (1809 – 1904)
Banner down center shield (the Pale); Military or defensive strength
Star; Divine quality from above. The specific star (nautical star) is not traditional heraldry but symbolizes finding way home.
Red; Military might, warrior
Green; Hope, joy, loyalty
Purple; Nobility and justice
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“He was a big explorer and went all over the world. He wasn't very close with his son, who was also an explorer. They'd only see each other by chance in weird remote places like Samarkand or Walla Walla.”
Edward's coat of arms says "BIS VIVAT QUI BON VIVAT" which translates to "Whoever lives well lives twice".
Knight (especially on horseback); The soul guiding the body; man’s journey through life
Lightning Bolt: Swiftness and power; spiritual enlightenment.
Unicorn; Extreme courage, virtue, strength.
I dont know what the warrior with the spear and sword means
Scepter; Emblem of Justice
Green; Hope, joy, loyalty
Blue; Truth, loyalty
William (1833 – 1901)
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“He was an explorer, just like his father. He was kind of a whiner, so I heard.”
William's coat of arms says "DIES PERDIDI" which translates to "another day wasted".
John (1873 – 1954)
Bend Sinister (the band across the shield); Sometimes used to indicate illegitimacy. If that is the meaning here that would be very interesting and explain why he wasnt close with his father
Red; Military might, warrior
Green; Hope, joy, loyalty
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“He was this huge naturalist and did a lot of exploration in the Amazon. I think there's a plant named after him. Or maybe a monkey; I forget.”
John's coat of arms says "PER AURES AD ANIMUM" which translates to "through the ears to the spirit".
Malachi (1894 – 1972)
Parrot and mouth not traditional symbols but probably represent interest in wildlife and linguistics.
Green; Hope, joy, loyalty
Blue; Truth, loyalty
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“He was a doctor of medicine and did a lot of research on icky skin diseases.”
Malachi's coat of arms says "NUMEN LUMEN" which translates to "divine light is my guide".
Alan (1923 – 1993)
Sun; Fountain of life, intelligence, innovation, creativity, enlightenment
Purple; Nobility and justice
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“He was my grandfather but I didn't know him because he died when I was little. I guess he was nice.”
Alan's coat of arms says "PURGAMENTUM EXIT" which translates to "garbage out" (referencing part of a programmers' saying "garbage in, garbage out").
Serpent; Wisdom
Red; Military might, warrior
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mmelionsblog · 4 months
Text
Shh, Shh, I’m right here [Dean Winchester x Reader]
warnings⚠️: panic attack
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You smiled brightly at the all too familiar home of your parents. You were what the hunters called, lucky. Your whole family was untouched by the supernatural, excluding you. You got into the business because you and your friends at the age of 14, decided to play the infamous game of ‘Bloody Mary’. Bobby singer and an old friend of his saved you— the last friend standing, from Mary who was out to get you as he used you as bait after explaining everything.
Dean got out of the Impala, closing the loud creaking door. “Let’s go meet your parents,” you haven’t seen your parents in about a year or two (you don’t recall the last time meeting them), due to the important job you had and wanting your family to stay safe away from the monsters that you brought into your life. Of course, Castiel always checked up on them from far away.
You and Dean had gotten an iMessage from your sister, Alessa, saying that she got married and at least wanted to see the two of you in the after party.
So there the two of you were, standing at your aunt’s house where every holiday was spent in your family. Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, Birthdays, you name it.
Your family has never met Dean, except through your iPhone FaceTime calls whenever you got the chance with them. He’d pop in with Sam, saying hello then dipping. Anytime the two brothers did that, questions from your family was always after they left the room.
You knocked on the brown wooden door in front of you. The house looked brand new, even though it’s been in the family for decades.
Looks like they remolded, again. You knocked and knocked again, sighing in annoyance. “It’s open!” You hear your cousin’s voice yell from the other side of the door, and you rolled your eyes. “Of course it’s open,” you mumble. You opened the door, placed a smile on and greeted your family members.
“Congratulations little sister.” You spoke to Alessa, giving her a big gigantic hug and spinning her around. Dean said the same thing. “Oohoho, is this the hunk of a man you’re always with on the phone?” Your grandmother looked at you, then looked at Dean with a look.
“Cougar much?” You laughed, “yes. This is Dean, my boyfriend.” Gasps could be heard through the house. You have never brought a boyfriend home with you in any holiday event, or just in general. “WOW you must be a lucky one,” your uncle spoke.
Your aunt chipped in, “she’s never brought guys over. So Dean, tell us about yourself.” And so Dean spoke about himself, not mentioning what type of job he does, ignoring the comments your family brought up about his parents, and going full detail with his little brother that he’s so proud of. “I’m so telling Sam that you’re gushing about him.” You spoke, he rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare,” you shrugged with a smile.
“Where is Sam? By the way.” Your mother asked. “He’s on this job with two of our other friends right now. We would’ve gone, but we needed a break.” You told her. “Two other friends?” Your cousin, Sofia, asked. “Jack and Castiel. Yall would love to meet them. They’re super sweet, but sometimes… they don’t really understand much.” You hummed. Dean chuckled, “we had to teach—” you shook your head at Dean with your eyes wide open.
“Don’t just embarrass Cass like that. So rude,” you playfully slap his shoulder.
Everything was going so fine, until one moment somebody asked a question that made you stop working like clock work. The voices seemed so far away as your eyes teared up, you backed up from the crowded room, unbalanced, as you stumbled out.
. “Oh god. Sorry— uh I should’ve mentioned about that. We don’t ask that question, ever.” You could barely hear what Dean was talking about. “Is there a quiet place somewhere around here?” He asked, holding you close to his chest. Your aunt pointed down the hallway and he nodded, helping you move your feet as he opened a door to one of the rooms and closed it.
“Hey,” Dean’s voice got muffled into your ears. “Hey, hey. You in there?” He brushed your hair with his hands, giving you a kiss on the forehead. “Shh, shh. It’s okay. I’m right here. I got you baby.” He brought you close to his chest, your face getting squished with his gray tshirt he had on.
Dark water spots on the center of his chest just because of your tears falling down onto him. “Sorry,” you hiccuped, wiping off your tears. “It’s okay babe. M so sorry, I should’ve mentioned it before it got to that question.” His hands rested carefully on the side of your cheek, his thumb softly rubbing off the dry tears.
You leaned into his touched, all warmed up by him. “It’s fine, they didn’t know. It.. it just threw me off guard.” You whispered. He kissed your forehead once more, “I know I know. But still I should’ve given them a look or something, could’ve stopped—” 
you place your index finger onto his lips, “all I need right now is you. And you’re doing just that, a great job at that. The past is the past- no matter how painful it is. I have you by my side right now comforting me and that’s all I need.” You spoke.
Dean smiled, hugging you as he brought you up to his chest. “I love you,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. “I love you too.”
“Now let’s go enjoy ourselves okay?”
“Okay.”
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ssa-atlas-alvez · 7 months
Note
heyyy i have a silly little idea!
What if male!reader was the oldest Winchester brother and was dating Aaron Hotchner? idk just a silly little idea i had, Love your writing and make sure to drink lots of water!
Okay so I kind of took this and ran with it, I hope you don't mind aha
Also, reader's like 14 years older than Dean, so in my head he's John's kid from another relationship and is 7 years old when John and Mary get married (based on this timeline I found).
(I might come back to this and do another part at some point aha)
Warnings: John bashing, homophobia mentions
"Hey, you guys want to meet a friend of mine?" You asked, looking at your brothers. Sam nodded, Dean merely shrugged.
"Sure, whatever," He mumbled as he stood up. You held back a sigh, trying to remind yourself that he was just going through a rough patch at the minute. Normally, he took moving from place to place in his stride, but he was struggling this time. You couldn't help but think that perhaps he had connected with someone in Mississippi during the month and a half you were all there. Besides, he was only ten, so it was bound to affect him a lot - despite how much he pretends it doesn't.
Now, you had been in Virginia for the last three months (apparently it was riddled with monsters). You met him your first day here, he had asked for your number with a charm that made your knees weak - so you gave it to him. Despite the charges for texting, you did so every day.
Sam turned to you, "Are they a special friend, (Y/N)?" He asks quietly, unsure if you're going to be offended by the question.
"Yeah, he is Sammy,"
Sam grinned, "Like a special, special friend?"
You huffed a quiet laugh, "Yeah, kid, a special special friend,"
Sam nodded, satisfied with your answer.
"How old is he exactly?" Dean asked as he folded his arms.
"He's 28,"
"28?!" Dean's eyes widen, "Dude, he's so much older than you!"
"It's four years Dean, chill." You rolled your eyes slightly.
"I think it's cool," Sam chimed as he walked up to the pair of you.
"Thank you, Sam." You said, "But we need to keep this between us, okay? Dad can't find out, alright?"
"Why?" Sam asked, looking up at you. You sighed, crouching down to his height. He was only six, he didn't quite know everything that you guys did just yet. Or at least understand it to a full extent. He also didn't understand your dad's... beliefs, let's say, to a full extent either.
"Dad, he... he won't agree with it," You explained gently.
"Why?" Sam asked again.
"He's homofonic." Dean said confidently.
"Homophobic," You correctly gently.
"What does that mean?"
"Well, it's when someone doesn't like that a man and a man or a woman and a woman get together,"
"Like boyfriend and boyfriend?" Sam asked and you nodded, "That's allowed? I thought it was only boyfriends and girlfriends allowed,"
"Well, it was illegal for a long time," You explained, "But it's getting better,"
"Are you allowed to get married to another boy now?"
"Only in a few states," You said.
"Is that why you don't really tell people?"
"Yeah, that's why I don't tell people," You said, "That's why I haven't told dad,"
"Okay," Sam nodded, excepting this once more, "Is your special special friend your boyfriend?"
"Yeah, yeah he is," You said, smiling softly, Sam beamed up at you.
"Really?!"
You nodded, "Yep,"
"That's so cool am I gonna have another big brother?!"
You chuckled softly, ruffling his hair, "Maybe, Sammy, you'll have to ask him,"
"What's his name?"
"Aaron,"
"What's his job?"
"He works for the FBI," You said after a moment's hesitation.
"Are you serious?"
"Dean, I don't wanna hear it,"
"But he's a fed, (Y/N)!" Dean exclaims, following you through the motel hall.
"And?" You ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Seriously?" Dean shakes his head, "Dad'll go mental if he finds out."
"Exactly. If." There's a beat, "Besides, I'm a grown ass man, Dean."
"He's not gonna be happy when he finds out about this." He huffs, folding his arms.
"He's not going to find out about this, you hear me?" You said, "I already told you, no one tells dad, do I make myself clear?"
"Who died and made you king?" Dean snaps.
"Dean, I don't wanna fucking hear it, okay?" You reply, "I'm an adult. You're a kid. Now, get in the car,"
"I don't understand why dad gave you the impala." Dean huffed as he sat in the front seat.
"How about this, when you're old enough to drive, you can drive it and I'll let you have it, yeah?"
"Really?!" You watch as Dean's face light up and you nod.
"Yeah," You smiled slightly, "Now, come on, let's go."
Sam looked at you and gave a small shrug before getting in the car.
It was a short drive to Aaron's apartment, Sam had asked questions the entire way about Aaron and your relationship (ever the curious mind), Dean had pretended not to care (but secretly did). And, soon enough, you parked the Impala and all piled out.
Aaron, as promised, met you outside, smiling. "Hey," He stepped closer to you but made no move to kiss you.
You smiled back, "Hey." Dean coughed loudly, "Oh, right, this is Sam and this is Dean."
Aaron turns to them, "I've heard a lot about you two, you're brother's very proud of you."
"Really?" Sam grinned.
"Of course kid," You ruffled his hair. "Come on, let's go inside."
When you were all inside, Aaron shut the door gently before kissing your cheek. "I missed you,"
"It's been a whole two days,"
"Two days too many," He said softly, Dean cleared his throat.
"Can you not in front of us?" Dean asked, "It's a bit gross,"
You blushed slightly, closing your eyes for a moment before turning to your brothers, "Sorry, go sit on the couch and watch tv or something," You said. Dean nodded, making his way to the couch, but Sam stayed. "What's up?"
"I have some questions," He said gently, looking up at you.
You share a smile with Aaron before you both nod, "Sure," You said - all sitting down at the small table, "What's on your mind, kid?"
"Um, so you're boyfriends?"
"Yep,"
"Is that dangerous?" Sam asked, gnawing at the skin of his bottom lip.
"What do you mean?" You asked gently.
"Well it used to be not allowed so people must have been against it. You won't get hurt for it, will you?"
Your heart melted, seeing the concern on your younger brother's face and you shook your head, "I'll be okay," You reassured, "I'm your big brother, I'll always be okay,"
"But Dean said on the way here that there's some people who are really really against it,"
You closed your eyes, making a note to yourself to talk to Dean about that later. "Yes that can happen sometimes, but I'm not going to let that happen to me, okay?"
"Promise?"
"I promise,"
"Okay, good." With this, he turned to Aaron, "Are you going to be my older brother too?"
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