#╱ jolie thread .

[queenaeducan]

returning to solas rp was good for if nothing else permitting me to shoot from the hip abt the brainrot he's been giving me on any given day

[cnlyfans]

      "  you  seem  so  far  away  .  "  she  murmurs  just  before  tossing  her  leg  over  his lap  to  situate  herself  on  top  of  it  .  had  noticed  the  distance  more  and  more  lately  .  the  way  he  would  avoid  her  texts  ,  cancel  their  appointments  .  then  when  he  did  manage  to  follow  through  ,  it  felt  different  ,  like  he  was  holding  back  .  "  what  are  you  thinking  about  ?  " / @svftlove

[thefvrious]

@ghostsxagain said -> ❝I’m talking to you as a friend.❞

"Okay, and I'm listening to you as a friend." Fox replied, somehow miffed by the fact that she had to clarify they were friends. Why had that rumpled his feathers so much? He'd either address it later -- in private -- or, the more likely, he'd swallow it down and try to forget about it until it reared its ugly head again. "What's so damn important that we friends need to talk about it?"

[glcssed]

“  don’t  look  at  me  that  way  ,  ”  she  bats  her  full  lashes  up  at  them  before  pressing  a  palm  to  the  door  in  order  to  widen  the  entrance  for  herself  , “  i  had  a  last  minute  appointment  and  you  can’t  be  mad  at  me  because  i  brought  pizza  .  ”

[gypsybelladonna]

tag drop for jolie kembers

[clubsmarties]

As he pulled out he switched to drive and gave her a quick glance. His smirk showing just a little as he looked at his blindsides. "Don't need to be shy. You just have to ask and you shall receive." The laughter threatened to bubble out of him as this didn't really faze him in the least. Sharing a space with Laurel and close quarters may have been a turn off but he'd be lying if thoughts hadn't swirled around from time to time. But this was just too good of an opportunity to pass up. That blush that spread across her features made it easy to tell how embarrassed she felt over the little trinket in her hands.

Maybe it was the way they danced at the party that made him bold but he shrugged as he turned to head to the store. It'd be mind boggling for anyone to see him drive around San Francisco like he'd been there his entire life. He was just good at knowing his way around different cities. As he turned the corner he began, "It wouldn't be my worst nightmare, you know, if we did," his eyes shot down to the condom in her hands and back up to the road. "If you ever wondered."

It didn't take them long to get into the parking lot and parked in the first empty spot he saw. As he unbuckled his seat belt he turned over to look at her. "You may wanna put that away before we head into the store before they think you swiped it in there." He opened the car door and chuckled remembering the stunned look on her face and unlocked her door. "Come on, slow poke. You can gawk at me later."

She almost rolled her eyes at the response, but instead just shook her head slowly. “You’re crazy,” she mouthed back, but blowing a kiss her way. Laurel couldn’t picture her thanking her for the random condom, but it was her birthday. She wasn’t going to question it for now. Aaron watched from afar, but even he caught her friend’s reaction. If those two got together, they’d owe Jolie an extra birthday present. He’d make sure to make a note. He happily pulled her in closer and when he looked at her, he could tell - party was over. He offered a smile, nodding in agreement though he insisted that he’ll take care of the clean up. No work for the birthday girl.

Laurel looked up at Eli as he leaned over the frame, and she was scolding her for even thinking it, but he looked really good leaning over like that. Was this still a delayed daze from the dancing? It had to be. She hummed in thought, ready to question his prize request, then remembered the likelihood he’d guess on the first try was near impossible. “Hm, sure why not? If you guess it on the first try, you get a prize. Whatever you want.” She shook her head, confirming there'd be be no hints. He was on his own. Now, Laurel was aware that he knew her well. At this point, more than anyone else in the world, really. But, she was still stunned at how easily he quickly he ran through guesses just based on her reaction, or lack thereof. He thought her nose scrunch was cute? Laurel always thought she looked like she was having bad allergies, mid-sneeze even. "Aaannd, there goes your prize. Nope to any of those, but your detective skills are still impressive. Mini vibrator would be a funny one, but sorry to disappoint.”

As he closed the door, she figured he had given up on guessing. And, perhaps that should've been a sign to just push the whole thing to the side. Because, now that the really thought about it, how would she even explain the rationale behind Jolie giving her that? After her seatbelt clicked, she turned slightly to face in his direction. "That moisturizer would've been good too, we're almost out by the way." Them sharing skin care products was not expected, but she was so happy for it. It was a bit of a routine now that they lived together. His mention of the warmth she felt only made her cheeks burn more. Was it that obvious? "Well only because she caught me off guard," Laurel began as she pulled it from her pocket and showed it to him. "Said I'd thank her later. Did I miss something? Or is this her roundabout way of telling me to blow off some steam?" With the earlier rumors of her fighting girls in the bathroom, maybe. Though, Laurel wasn't dumb. She was almost certain why (heated movement on the dance floor), just didn't want to bring it up.

[voxvulgi]

an Alan starter for @altrxistisms

Seven minutes and….nine seconds. That’s how late Jolie was. It made Alan lose his mind because Jolie was never late. She always showed up extra early to avoid being chastised by her anxiety. And yet, on the first date they were going on since weeks, she was nowhere to be seen. Alan was sitting there, on the picnic blanket, polaroids sprawled out in front of him, and Jolie was nowhere in the wide expanse of the park.

They were going to make a collage together. She promised. Alan pushed away any dark thoughts he had because Jolie wouldn’t… She wouldn’t let anything happen to her before they made this damn collage.

He wanted to call her. His fingers tapped on the blank screen of his phone, contemplating. If he did call, that would only make her more anxious. Maybe he could call her mom instead? Just to make sure everything was okay.

When he looked around one more time, though, he immediately dropped his phone. There she was! Running over like a period drama character late for a train. Alan couldn’t help his grin. He could already hear her apologising to him — but he could also already taste her lips when he told her there was nothing to apologise for.

He stood up, opened his arms wide, and waited for him to reach their spot under the marked tree.

Yes, they carved their initials inside a heart on the tree. They were sappy and unashamed of it.

[missydior]

lover ౨ৎ

notes: charles leclerc x reader, suggestive content, fluff.

a/n: just a little piece I wrote in like ten minutes during my study break. i don’t know.

Home. A pretty piano of white high gloss and ivory near the balconies of Art Nouveau overlooking the beauty of Monaco's streets, drapes in rose, fleur-de-lis, and tassels amongst the palette of white, créme and varnish, the bed a mess of linen sheets and pillows where the cashmere throw has fallen to the floor of birch parquet.

"— Tu es très jolie." ꒰ you are so pretty ꒱

Charles' voice is a hushed resonance near your ear, palms with their slight callouses feeling over the curve of your hips through fabric where the both of you lie in the warmth of a late evening. His lips trace your neck, slow and sweet, committing each inch he touches to his endless memory of you.

Hushed laughter with the subtle rasp of his facial hair against your sensitive skin, your fingertips tracing through tousled, brunet tresses as you tilt your head back on the cushions and welcome the slant of his mouth against yours.

You can taste remnants of a vintage wine and dessert's soufflé on his tongue, some silent and unspoken 'I love you' further than just words, welcoming the weight of his figure over yours on the mattress with the sweet sickness of love.

"All mine," He's mumbling the words on you between kisses, thumb meeting the edge of your collarbone in idle caresses near flourishing remnants of rouge and lilac from the evening before, "So pretty, baby."

He does that frequently, repeating his praise—even between different languages at times—until he is certain you will never forget.

Charles Leclerc has never been shy in the prospect of bathing you with the song of his adoration in compliments and sweet nothings, but it only ever seems heightened under the influence of one too many glasses of Côte de Beaune after a quiet, intimate dinner.

You're a breathless, giggling mess of a girl underneath him, grasping his shoulders, feeling the cotton of his ivory shirt fallen unbuttoned, his hand drifting about the silks of your blushing négligée. It is your favourite feeling.

He's so tender when he loves you like this, patient and gentle with the ghost of his palm along your navel and the kiss of his mouth over the arching of your neck as you sigh blissfully and succumb to the hold. The room is quiet and serene where the moonlight dances through the glass, bathing your skin, and you've never felt safer in his presence: his arms drawn around you, the sound of his breathing and his voice.

"Charles—" Tongues meet again in the sensuous intimacy between lovers before you can continue, whatever words soon lost as you melt into the feeling, ankles locked with his about the edge of the mattress, a quietly amorous and drowsy smile on your countenance when he eventually draws away, though only fractionally, and you're staring into those beautiful eyes of his.

"Hm?" He's kissing the corner of your mouth, then the edge of your jawbone, the invitation of your throat. You feel how his hand draws subtly beneath the edges of your garments, little touches of warmth.

"Tell me something." You request quietly, trying to fill the quietude.

There is the whisper of his chuckle against your clavicle, the softness of his voice and his Monégasque accent that curls on each syllable with his consideration, "Well," Kisses, teeth, "There are many things, ma chérie, which I could say to you."

"Mhm..." Your fingers thread through the ends of his hair, admiring the sight of him in the vulnerability of your shared moments. You know that he is doing this on purpose, just as he knows that you're enjoying every second of it, but you laugh a little and indulge. "Tell me how much you love me."

He smiles at this, leaning his head down a fraction to touch the side of your cheek on his, breaths melting together in synchrony like your hand that entwines with his own on the sheets.

"How could I ever put it into words?" The softest of pecks, and he breathes in the saccharine lull of your perfume until a thought seems to manifest until he shifts over you once more, punctuates his words with another touch of his lips on yours, and reveals handsome dimples, "You know, I'll show you instead."

[gtgbabie0]

Hi I was wondering if you could possibly make a cute regulus oneshot where regulus is just admiring the reader and compliments them in french knowing the reader doesn't understand. I love your posts so much. Hope you have a good day! 🌷🌟

-Regulus Black x reader

{Regulus loves to whisper French endearments to you}

Thank you lovely! 💕 also if there are any mistakes with the French please let me know and I’ll fix it right away, enjoy lovelies!

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Another sigh falls from your lips as you stretch your arms before laying down against the soft picnic blanket, the feeling of the material against your skin only elicits another sigh which in turn makes Regulus let out a breathy chuckle, looking down at you with soft eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asks pushing your hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear, he smiles, an expression overflowing with love. You look up at him, your hand shielding your eyes from the afternoon sun as it casts down against you both, and you notice the way its orangey light dusts against his skin making him glow, just like an angel.

“Yeah, m’just getting a little tired” you whisper, and you watch as he lays down on his front, chin propped up on his elbows. He looks down at you and there’s something in his expression that melts you completely.

He leans down to press a kiss or two against your jaw and then another to the corner of your mouth, smiling into the small peck. Regulus never fails to make you go all giddy, the small touches and his love-filled eyes, that have you hiding your face behind your hands.

You can hear him 'tut' slightly as his fingers wrap around your wrist, the warmth of his hand against yours as he guides them away from your face.

“There we go,” he says with a smile, the sight has your chest blooming with warmth. He leans into you once again before whispering, “Tu es tres jolie” his lips peppering kisses against your face, and you swear your heart is skipping beats.

The words leave his mouth so beautifully and even if you haven’t the slightest idea of what they mean they still seem so heavenly. In all honesty, he could be insulting you, the thought makes you chuckle.

You watch as he frowns slightly, tilting his head with slight confusion. “You could be insulting me, I would never know,” you tell him, Regulus shakes his head, his curls that frame his face bouncing as he does so.

“I would never” he gasps with fake offence, a hand over his heart, “Je t'aime tellement” he whispers, his hand resting on your hips as he lets his head fall against your shoulder.

“I still don’t understand” Your fingers thread through his wind-tussled hair and you can feel him chuckle against you.

“Do you want me to tell you?” He asks, sitting up slightly as he kisses your cheek, you nod with a small ‘Mhm’

He smiles, excitement flashing through his eyes as he pulls you up, both sitting crossed-legged on top of the soft blanket he whispers a quiet ‘Okay’ before he speaks again, “Tu es tres jolie” he says slowly, breaking down the words for you.

And for what you lack in knowledge of the language you make up for with passion, and he stifles his laughter behind his hand, “Hey! Don’t laugh, I’m trying” you tell him with a slight twinge of embarrassment.

“I’m not laughing at you,” he says taking your hands in his, fingers entwined as he rests them on his lap, “Now listen carefully” he tells you as he repeats the words even more slowly.

“Tu es tres jolie” You give him a weary smile and he nods.

“Perfect” he praises you, his thumb smoothing over the bumps of your knuckles, “It means, you are very pretty” he leans forward pressing his lips against yours, your noses bumping slightly with the action, and his gentle words leave you feeling all floaty.

He doesn’t have time to pull away before your arms wrap around his shoulders pulling him back into you as you kiss him, although it doesn’t last too long as you both end up smiling, which makes you both break out in a fit of giggles.

“Teach me more?” You ask, forehead resting against his.

“Of course beautiful,” he says, and he spends a good hour teaching you, enjoying how interested you seem to be. The sun will eventually set, and both you and Regulus pack away your small picnic into a basket before walking back to your quaint little village house, arms linked.

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[thefvrious]

Xander and Ryder had always been good big brothers to Jolie. Perhaps it was their upbringing, but they had never been the type of boys to pick on their baby sister, though Xander certainly knew the type... one of their own bandmates was one of those kinds of brothers, actually, so he guessed Jolie probably knew better than he. She had friends who were girls, after all, he could only speak on his experience with her.

“Well... when have I ever wanted to be typical?” He asked, playfully batting his eyelashes at her before laughing. “A freak and a real life unicorn, some people would consider the first term to be an insult, but we’re not some people, are we?” As a matter of fact, Xander labeled himself as a freak and didn’t mind to be called one at all. It was sort of the point to be far from the norm. Besides, who wants to be mean? Not him. Never him. “Twenty percent more energy? You got it.” Xander offered, glad she always knew what to say — a shared trait of theirs, maybe due to their closeness? He wasn’t willing to examine it too closely.

He met expectations, amping it up just enough as they ran through it one more time, the rhythm really flowing through him, out of him... out of them. He could only imagine how it would feel when it call came together with Fox and Iggy. “Fuck... I think you’re right. Nothing needs to change.” He was grinning, his face a coated in a fine sheen of sweat from the exerted energy. His smile faltered only slightly at her swift switch in gears. How was he supposed to tell her he’d had a thing for Iggy for quite some time now? That Iggy was starting to reciprocate? It was probably something he should share with both her and Fox, but it felt too fragile. “Maybe. Do you?”

One of the things that never failed to amuse Jolie was the way people tended to react when she told them that yes, she was in a band with all dudes and yes, one of said dudes happened to be her brother. No, it didn't bother her to be around so much 'masculine' energy and no, it wasn't annoying to spend so much time with Xander. She wouldn't change a thing about any of it.

Jolie squeezed Xander tight before breaking the hug, her whole body practically glowing with pride. "You'd be a pretty typical brother, actually. None of my friends from high school have bonds with their brothers like I have with you. You're kind of a freak, Xan. An anomaly. A real life unicorn." She teased him out of obligation - that's what baby sisters do, right? In reality he knew how much she valued their closeness, that wasn't even up for debate. "Yeah, I could go again. Let's do maybe twenty percent more energy this time."

After running through the song again, Jolie leaned back, still seated at her drum set. "I like it, I don't think I want to change anything before we bring it to the boys. I'm open to your notes if you have any." She twirled her drum sticks expertly between her fingers, changing the pace from fast to slow every few rotations. "Or we could leave my brilliance alone and switch to more a interesting conversation. Like whether you've got your eye on someone special yet." Jolie wiggled her eyebrows playfully at her older brother, hoping to make him a teeny tiny bit flustered.

[cnlyfans]

"  you  know  —  i've  been  hired  to  roleplay  a  lot  of  fantasies  but  ,  fake  fiancé  in  a  public  setting  has  really  pushed  me  to new heights  .  "  the  smile  that  had  been  plastered  on  petals  slowly  fading  with  every  word  as  the  bride  floats  to  the  next  pair  .  / @svftlove

[thefvrious]

@endlessfebrvary said -> ‘you know i love you, right?’

"Why would you say something like that?" He asks, but there's no ire to his voice, no ill-will, no anger. He's just curious. How have they gotten here? Weren't they just playfully flirting? Then again, he supposes, he's known Jolie for so long... they've spent so much time together, done so much. He's been her brother's best friend for over a dozen years, been in a band with her for a handful, on the road... it makes sense. Especially with the route they're taking. "And how long have you known that?"

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode nationale, no. 24, 13 juin 1903, Paris. Toilette de visite pour jeune femme. Bibliothèque nationale de France

Dans le cas où cette toilette ne serait pas destinée à une jeune femme, il faudrait enlever le col qui lui donne une allure trop pimpante. Notre modèle est en étamine mélangée fil à fil de vert et de bleu. Il serait très joli en bleu uni sur transparent vert qui donnerait un effet glacé et changeant. La jupe est à empiècement découpé avec un mouvement général d'arrondi et terminé devant en étole. Des plis chevauchés sont rapprochés autour et très amples en bas. Boléro plissé écourté sur un dessous drapé en soie fleurie de ton clair. Un grand col d'irlande tombe sur le boléro, dégageant l'encolure. Le haut de la manche forme un petit jockey de plis couchés; elle s'échappe ensuite à gros plis qui s'évasent, forment un ample bouffant resserré dans un poignet de guipure en cornet.

In the event that this ensemble is not intended for a young woman, the collar should be removed which gives it a too dapper appearance. Our model is made of cheesecloth mixed thread by thread of green and blue. It would be very pretty in plain blue on transparent green which would give an icy and changing effect. The skirt has a cut-out yoke with a general rounding movement and finished in a stole at the front. Overlapped pleats are close together around and very loose at the bottom. Cropped pleated bolero with a draped underside in light-tone floral silk. A large Irish collar falls over the bolero, revealing the neckline. The top of the sleeve forms a small jockey of lying pleats; it then escapes in large folds which flare out, forming a large bouffant tightened in a cornet guipure cuff.

Matériaux: 7 mètres d'étamine; 1m,50 de soie fleurie.

[cnlyfans]

"  you  said  we  were  going  to  a  yacht  party  ,  not  that  i  would  be  working  it  .  i  thought  —  "  that  this  was  a  date  .  stupid  ,  stupid  girl  .  "  you  know  what  ,  it  doesn't  matter  .  " / @godfavorites

[syrupsyche]

Students hunting down the social media of their teachers in the Les Mis Teachers!AU, and finding:

Combeferre's public Instagram, where he posts and IDs all the insects and animals he sees. Sometimes he uploads links to YouTube videos and news articles for his students who are following him to read. He also has a TikTok where he uploads science experiments with Joly.

Courfeyrac’s private Instagram, where he only accepts students if they've long graduated. His IG stories are loud clips of him in the club, so blurry you can't see what's going on. His IG posts are of him with his friends, as well as screenshots of himself roasting stupid people on r/politics.

Feuilly's public Instagram and Twitter, all of which repost or retweet journal publications and news articles written by his friends in the field. Once in a while he posts a piece of woodwork he's made, and Enjolras is always the first to like and comment a 👍.

Enjolras' public Instagram, which has no profile picture, no description, and only the occasional post of current news affairs with a loooong caption sharing his thoughts. One day a student finds his Twitter, which is entirely in Korean, where it's also 90% of him sharing about news that may have gone under the radar (esp. things happening in Korea/Asia in general) and then 10% of him asking the void for dating advice. No one replies to those 💔.

Bahorel's public TikTok, where he has 3 workout videos and 48 duets of him arguing with people on bad history takes. Sometimes he goes on TikTok lives with Grantaire and they talk about bullshit for 3 hours straight.

Jehan's Tumblr, which is solely dedicated to Romantic literature. They invite students to send them asks and they answer them pretty often, usually about book/show recommendations, further readings, and opinions on poets and playwrights. Every so often an anon will send a scathing ask roasting Jehan's taste, and every time it's Bahorel.

Bossuet's private Instagram, where he only allows students who've graduated to follow. Except the app keeps glitching and his students keep getting in, so every day he has to softblock them again. His profile is pretty simple though, just pictures of him and his friends, his food, yearly graduation photos with his students etc. Alas, all of them have EXTREMELY horrendous IG filters on them. He likes it, okay?!

Joly's Twitter, where he retweets mostly cute/funny animal tweets, interspersed with the occasional Twitter thread where he goes on long tangents debunking myths about historical illnesses like the black plague, the cholera epidemic etc. He's currently curating one about COVID in his drafts. It's 80 tweets long.

Grantaire's public Instagram, which has about 1,320 posts because he posts about EVERYTHING. His breakfast, a nice cloud, a store having a clearance sale (in which he will tag his friends and caption "Shall we go?") etc. He treats IG like a group chat with all his 289 followers. A lot of pictures of his friends too. Whenever his students win an award or competition he posts about them as well, just with a huge censor bar to conceal their identity. He uses up all 10 slots for the IG carousel post, with the 10th picture always being a sneaky photo taken of Enjolras that day.

Bonus:

Marius' Twitter, except it took forever to confirm it was Marius because his tweets are in four entirely different languages. The students only figured it out once they saw a Twitter thread where Enjolras and Marius were debating with each other in Korean.

Éponine's TikTok, where it only has one video thus far, and its her sending off Gavroche on his first day of school. She uses her account to roast Combeferre’s and Joly’s science experiments, as well as bully Bahorel and Grantaire on their TikTok lives.

Cosette's public Instagram, which is a pretty popular bullet journaling account. Very aesthetic; students follow her to get some decor inspo and study tips. Her IG stories are pictures with Valjean and Fantine captioned "brunch with my favourite people!! 💫💗" or blurry pictures of Enjolras coming out of his bedroom at 2pm on Saturday captioned "Bigfoot sighting #39"

[gay-witches-are-the-best]

Hi! I have more angst for you all. As usual, here are the previous parts.

Now read! Enjoy! Cry, maybe hopefully! Also, please reblog this. It helps. A lot.

Edaline’s POV:

It had been 16 years since she’d worn this gown. It was a long, flowing dress the color of emeralds. Green was the color of life, so elves always wore green to funerals. 

But for the second time, Edaline was attending her own daughter’s planting. She studied her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror: puffy red eyes, trembling hands, and a pale face streaked with tears.

As she turned away, Grady entered the room. He was wearing dark pine-colored pants and a matching jacket with gold thread embroidered along the seams. His bloodshot eyes met hers, and he attempted to smile. “You look lovely, Eda,” he said, taking her hand and walking to the door. The pair climbed up the stairs, past Sophie’s room, and to the gleaming Leapmaster. 

“Are you ready to do this?” Grady asked, hugging her tight.

“Yes,” Edaline barely whispered. “The Wanderling Woods,” her voice was raspy, but the crystal still dropped down and made a shimmering path of light. 

Together, Grady and Edaline stepped forward, letting the light whisk them away.

The crowd at Sophie’s funeral was surprising large. Hundreds of elves were crammed in between the other Wanderling trees, all clad in green. Sobs rose throught the still forest. Edaline and Grady walked around the sides of the group, heads down. Along the way, they stopped at Jolie’s tree. It was so beautiful, and Edaline whispered, “Stay strong. I love you,” before continuing. 

When they got to the hill that Sophie’s tree would be planted on, they saw Kesler, Juline, and the triplets all embracing one another in a hug, crying. Juline looked up, met Edaline’s eyes, and raced to hug her. Grady walked over to Kesler and they exchanged sad, solemn-sounding words. 

After a moment, the air lit up and all twelve councilors appeared on the stage set up behind the planting sites. 

“As I’m sure you’ve all heard, the disspearences of two young elves  have been tearing at our hearts for nearly two weeks. After days of careful consideration and hope, we were forced to admit that Miss Foster and Mr. Dizznee are dead. The lost cities will mourn their loss forever. But now, it is time for the plantings,” Councilor Emery said, his voice carrying over the silent ground. 

Kesler pulled a small seed out of his suit pocket and carefully wrapped a strawberry-blond hair around it while Juline dug a small hole in the grassy hillside. Bex placed the seed in the hole, and Rex gently filled the dirt back in. When it was done, Lex poured a vial of green liquid over the planting. The liquid sank into the soil and a sapling immediately sprung from the earth. 

It had a slightly twisted trunk and spikey red leaves. Edaline even noticed a few periwinkle berries on the ends of the tiny branches. The whole Dizznee family was crying by the time they stepped away, and they sat against the stage, dazed, with tears streaking down their rosy cheeks. 

Now it was their turn. 

Grady prepared the seed while Edaline dug the hole. Grady filled it in, and Edaline sobbed as she opened the vial. Drink up, little one, she thought as the elixir disappeared into the ground. When she stepped back, a pale truck pushed its way up from the dirt. Soon, golden-yellow star-shaped leaves were unfulrling and tiny brown seed pods were sprouting. 

Grady cried and hugged Edaline.

She was devastated. It wasn’t fair. She already lost one daughter, why did the world insist that she lose another? 

She barely registered all of the families coming up to them and giving thier condolences. 

She was numb. 

Emotionless. 

Empty.

When they got home, Edaline barely managed to crawl into their bedroom before she collapsed onto the bed and slept. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to wake up. Not without Sophie by her side.

Tag list: @myfairkatiecat @alaydabug2 @ham-cheese-toastie @stunning-mess @sophie-pleasant @lisalovesapplesauce @ilov3b00kss0much @siennamakeschaos @mushroom-snake-coding @sophiefostersno1stan @upside-downish @aspenaspenaspenaspenaspen @permanently-stressed (Isa & Aspen I'm tagging you because we're moots now and it's my job to bother you)