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lookingfts · 20 days ago

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Dialogue Game - Prompts #15 and #16

#15 - “If I don’t say this now. I’ll always be stuck in this moment never being able to move forward” and “We were just kids, you know?” (Anonymous)

Anthony has very carefully arranged things so that he would never be alone.

Every moment of his day has been at Siena’s side, or drinking with Ben, or listening to his mother fuss over last minute plans. All to avoid this exact moment - in a quiet room with his thoughts, the weight of his decisions pressing down on him.

He can’t breathe, he can’t - this isn’t how it’s supposed to feel. But he’s already gone so far down this road.

The door clicks open, and he straightens himself out. Maybe Ben with some hair of the dog. God knows he could use it.

Anthony turns, and whoever he expected to see - it isn’t her.

“Hey,” Kate says shyly, her arms crossed over her chest. She’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt - she’d declined his invitation to the wedding, which hurt but wasn’t surprising. But she’s there, in the back room at the chapel, and he knows what this is.

A goodbye.

“I just wanted to see you,” she presses on when he doesn’t say anything. Always so brave, always so willing to step onto the ledge while he shrinks back. “How are you?”

“I’m great,” Anthony says dryly, almost bitterly. He’s so overcome with the desire to grab Kate and kiss her, take her right here against the wall. It’s been so long since he’s tasted her, since he’s felt her, and it pains him to think he never will again. “You?”

Her eyes shine, but she steps forward, her hands smoothing over his lapels. “You look nice.” The tension that has always strung between them remains, tinged with nostalgia and something else that he still can’t name, after all this time. “It’ll be good, Ant. This is a good thing.”

The words are hollow, and they both know it, but they’re good at pretending. It’s all they’ve ever done, with the world, with their families, with each other. “Why are you here?” he asks quietly. He has to know. Even if it will just slice deeper, he has to know.

Kate tugs at his collar once before letting go. “I’m not here to ask for anything,” she says, shaky but determined. He has always been in awe of her strength, trying desperately to steal it for himself. “What happened with us - we were just kids, you know? And I don’t know if it was ever…real, for you. I don’t know if we were in any shape for anything real.”

Two people drowning in grief, stepping into adulthood before their time. Burning everything and everyone in their path. Maybe if it hadn’t happened the way it did, they could have supported each other. Staggered their heartache. But the timing was never on their side.

“It was real.” That’s all he says, and all he needs to say. Kate nods, something solidifying in her expression, growing more resolved.

“If I don’t say this now, I’ll always be stuck in this moment, never able to move forward.” Anthony envies that she thinks she can leave this moment behind. He’s not sure he ever will. Even as it’s happening, he thinks he’ll encase this moment in amber and look back on it as the moment that his life could have been different. “I know we fucked it up, but it meant everything to me. You still mean so much to me, and you always will. Maybe it’s really selfish to tell you this before you walk down the aisle to her, I don’t…I don’t know. I’ve just spent so long acting like nothing mattered, and I didn't want you to think that you never mattered. You deserved to know.”

Kate exhales, a weight lifted, standing on her toes to kiss him. It’s quick and rough, and over before Anthony can properly return it.

“Good luck,” she says hurriedly, wiping her face, and she’s gone when he blinks.

And Anthony thinks he’ll never be alone with his thoughts again. Because Kate will always be haunting him.

#16 - “Do you know how scared I was?” (Anonymous)

Anthony is head-to-toe trembling when he reaches the room where his wife is - according to her text. Logically, he knows she’s okay, but he doesn’t quite let himself believe it until she’s in front of him. Her ponytail is a little askew and she looks tired, and her ankle is bandaged, but she’s okay.

“Kate,” he breathes, and she’s already reaching for him as he scoops her up in his arms. He holds her so tightly, too tightly, but she doesn’t protest.

“I’m okay,” Kate whispers, and her voice calms something agitated in his chest. “Baby, I’m okay. I promise.”

“Do you know how scared I was?” He got the broad strokes from her message - that she went for a run and got dizzy and tripped on the sidewalk, and a good Samaritan waited with her until an ambulance arrived. “You haven’t been feeling well, why would you-?”

Her cheeks flush, and she looks down at her hands. All week, she’s been run down and a little nauseated. But that’s his wife - she hates to be weak, always pushing herself to overcome her own perceived shortcomings. “It was stupid, I’m sorry. I thought it might make me feel better to move, get outside. The last thing I wanted was to scare you.”

Anthony knows he’s a little more sensitive than most about things like this. After everything they’ve been through, he just doesn’t know what he’ll do if it’s not okay. If he loses the person he loves most in this world, again.

Taking his hands in both of hers, Kate looks up at him. “I have to tell you something.” He tenses, and she laughs quietly. “It’s not bad. Actually, it’s…”

Tears brim her eyes, and he doesn’t know how to feel. She’s telling him everything is fine, but she’s obviously emotional, and he doesn’t know if his heart can take any more terrifying news today.

“I, um, I told the nurse about how I’ve been feeling. And she had a hunch and…she ran a test.” A smile breaks on her face, and realization swells in his chest before his mind can properly wrap around it. “I wish I could tell you in some special way, but I can’t wait. I’m pregnant.”

It feels like ages before he comprehends what she’s saying, but his eyes are already wet. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And it’s healthy, we’re healthy, everything is okay, I just-.” She laughs thickly, and shakes her head. “Can you just kiss me, please?”

It’s barely a kiss, just their smiles pressing together, but Anthony already knows this will forever be one of his favorite memories.

#prompt game #kanthony #bridgerton #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #bridgerton fic

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ofstarsandvibranium · 2 years ago

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Walls Are Crumbling: Part 2

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: You and Benedict announce your engagement to the rest of the Bridgerton family. They're ecstatic for you, as Benedict told you they'd be. But you still can't help but feel guilty for bringing Benedict into your mess.

A/N: oh no. i guess im gonna turn this into a mini series...

Part 1

Everyone in the sitting room cheers after you and Benedict announce your engagement. Anthony and Kate give the pair of you soft smiles and knowing looks. Of course Anthony told his wife. He could never hide anything from her.

"Well, I must say this isn't too much of a surprise," Violet Bridgerton stands from her spot and walks towards you, "We all had a feeling this was going to happen eventually."

You smile at the woman you saw as another mother, "Trust me, Violet, I'm just as surprised as you are."

Benedict gives you a nudge, silently telling you to shush. He then speaks up, "Yes, it seemed that both of us had been harboring feelings for each other for a long time. Didn't see a reason as to why we needed to prolong marriage. Therefore, in month's time, we seek to marry."

Eloise grimaces, "But that's so soon."

Benedict's hand intertwines in yours, "Well, Eloise, I've waited too long to have Y/N as mine, so the sooner we wed, the better."

"But not too soon," you pointedly say, "which is why we decided in month's time," you add, just in case someone else suggests you two marry today, like Anthony did last night.

"Did you tell your mother already, Y/N, dear?" Violet asks curiously.

You nod, "Yes, and it went as you'd expect it to."

The dowager viscountess gives you a tight lip look. She wasn't fond of your mother and how she treats you. She especially doesn't like how she viewed your friendship with Benedict as a waste.

"Second sons have nothing to offer," she's said often.

Kate approaches you, arm looping through yours, "Sorry, brother-in-law, may I steal her for a moment?"

Benedict cocks a brow at you, silently asking if you'll be okay. You nod, "I'll be back," you let go of his hand and follow Kate, whom is guiding you outside of the sitting room and into the hall. There, she asks you to tell her everything, since Anthony only gave her bits and pieces.

While you and the Viscountess talk, Anthony joins his younger brother, "Do you really think you should do this?"

Benedict looks at his brother with annoyance on his face, "If I don't, she'd be left off to her own. I can't let that happen, especially with a child on the way."

"A child that isn't even yours, brother."

He shakes his head and shrugs, "I don't care. I will love them as my own. They are part Y/N, so surely, I'd love them." He then scowls, "Lord Mattias is a coward for this."

"I'd argue that you're just as cowardly," Anthony murmurs, a hint of a smirk on his lips, "Marrying the woman you love and yet not even telling her how you feel."

Benedict scoffs, "As if I should be taking advice from you on how to handle love," he cocks a brow at his older brother, knowing the debacle between him, Kate, and Edwina.

Anthony's jaw clenches and he doesn't say another word, which leaves Benedict to chuckle. He pats his brother on the shoulder, "I'll tell her...eventually. Things are going to be chaotic for her already. I don't want to cause her any more stress. It'll be bad for her and the baby."

Anthony hums and walks away from Benedict, deciding to stand beside Colin, whom is sitting on chaise lounge chair.

__________________________

1 Month Later

You managed to have wedding dress made fairly quickly. Well, Lady Danbury definitely put in a good word for you that helped speed up the process. Your wedding, albeit not ideal, was still perfect. Although your words of love to Benedict during the ceremony were....not completely true, you still found yourself tearing up when Benedict repeated his vows to you. You thought marrying your closest friend would be weird, but throughout the duration of the month leading up to the wedding, it became less of that and more comforting.

Time and time again did Benedict reassure he wasn't going to leave you behind for the wolves, that he'd be there for you and for the baby. That you'd be well taken care of.

Post-wedding, the dinner was a bit overwhelming. So many people were congratulating you, echoing the same words everyone else had "We all knew this would happen eventually". But what exactly did that mean? Sure, a few years ago, you harbored feelings for Benedict, but did everyone see it? Benedict couldn't have seen it too, right?

"Y/N?" he squeezes your hand and you didn't even realize he was holding it.

You look up from your plate, "Hm? Sorry."

"Are you alright?"

"I-I think I'd like some air," you whisper back to him.

"Would you like me to come with you?"

You're hesitant to say yes, but your head moves before your mouth does. You're nodding and Benedict is immediately on his feet and excuses the both of you. Everyone watches the two of you exit the dining room, the chatter continues as you leave.

Benedict silently follows you to the tree that has the swings you two used to play on when you were young. once sat on one of the swings, your hand immediately going to your belly. You've been doing that a lot in these past weeks, just not in front of others beside Anthony and Benedict.

"Is something wrong?" he nods to your hand on your belly.

You shake your head, "Not with the baby, no. But I just-" you let out another deep breath, "This is all so much. I-I-" your eyes are tearing up, "I don't like that I've brought you into my mess."

Benedict kneels before you and grabs your hands into his, "Y/N, listen to me, you did not force me to do this. I offered to marry you because I care about you and I'd hate for anything bad to happen to you. You are my dearest friend. I won't let anything bad happen to you. Ever. Do you understand me?" thumbs away your tears as you nod, "Good." He stands up and kisses your head, "Do you want to go back?"

"Can we stay here for a little longer?"

"Whatever my wife wants."

"I have to get used to hearing that," you mumble as you start to slowly move yourself back and forth on the swing.

Benedict watches you with soft eyes, eventually moving himself on the swing.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton imagine #fem!reader #f!reader #female reader

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dollypopup · 8 months ago

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Forgive the rant, but it's been weighing heavy on my heart. So much of the speculation of the Lady Whistledown reveal is the nail biting of 'Oh, I hope it's not too bad for Pen!' or justifying how her actions as LW actually weren't that bad in hopes to minimize the fallout

But there seems to be so little care to the fact that Penelope hiding it from him is going to break Colin's heart.

He is so elated to be with Penelope because he feels like this is the one person he can truly unmask with, that he can reveal all his cards to, and be accepted, and he is going to realize that is a one sided feeling in his relationship. Not only did Penelope feel she couldn't unmask in the past, but she feels she cannot do so even after their engagement. Even after he has reassured her of how much he cares for her and how much he trusts her.

I know everyone wants to skip over the angst of it and get to the 'oh look, they're so happy in love!' but y'all

Penelope is going to hurt him. He put his heart in her hands and she's going to crush it. He's going to have to look in the eye the fact that she didn't trust him enough to inform him of this very large part of her life, and he's going to understand that she kept it from him purposefully. Yes, she has her reasons, but like. . .that's painful. It's a slap in the face. Is it fully understandable her not telling him right after he asks? Or before? Of course! A lot happened! She had the most intimate experience of her life in the back of that carriage, and she'd gone through a lot of ups and downs that night, but after that excitement simmered and she had a chance to breathe, she should have told him.

But she doesn't.

Worse, she decides he simply doesn't have to know.

The fact that Eloise has to put an ultimatum on it at all is proof of that. Colin is falling in love with half of Penelope, and she's making it so that he does so on purpose. She is actively hiding half of herself from his eyes, and regardless of reason, when one party of the relationship is open and vulnerable, and the other is secretive, the secretive party is doing their partner a disservice.

Right now the person who has poured the work into the relationship is Colin. He has confessed his feelings first, he made all the big moves, he openly declared his interest in her, he proposed, he proved to her that he finds her desirable, he has hit every single love language in the BOOK. He's said repeatedly how wonderful she is, he's given her an engagement ring, bought them a house, he's chased down her carriage, he asked for those lessons to spend more time with her, he's had physical touch aplenty.

But I feel like so much of us as an audience are riding on the fact that we know Penelope has pined for Colin for a long time, and not understanding that Colin does not know that. And even if he does, she has not shown him that she loves him.

And I need to see Penelope pour into him an equitable amount as he's poured into her. They're both two people who embody 'I want to be so full of love, I forget what it's like to be hungry', and we forget that both of them have been denied affection. This fandom sympathizes the most with Penelope to the point where we don't want to see that Colin has also been pushed to the wayside. This man is starving for love and romance. Not just to love, but also to be loved.

People forget that Colin has been denied affection from his family, from his sexual experiences, even from Penelope. She didn't write back to him the same way his siblings didn't. Colin has been disparaged in his household, too. He's been made to feel like a burden, like he has no right to family funds, hell, he was all but called a pathetic virgin in Season 1 by his own brother, the head of his household, and his mum and Daphne and Anthony all assumed that he needed his messes cleaned up for him and he says aloud no one takes him seriously.

I want to see Colin be loved. I need to see it.

It's not a scorecard, I get that, but if you look at it objectively, Colin has done so much in his relationship with Pen, and she's lying to him. She's keeping from him a secret that reinforces what others have said of him: that he's gullible, naive, too trusting, someone that needs his muck ups solved for him, just a foolish boy caught up in his fantasies. And when the truth of Penelope's deception comes out, and he's going to question if all those people were right all along, and questioning his trust in himself (because, mind, this is the second woman who has said she loves him and has been keeping a huge secret from him, if that happened to me, I'd be closing my heart off for a very long time), he's going to need her to mend the wound that she'll pry open.

Colin said a hurtful thing about Penelope in Season 2, and then spent Part 1 of Season 3 soothing the pain that caused her. Now, Penelope is doing a hurtful thing to Colin, and she will have to heal that hurt, too. He is a tender, soft-hearted person who trusts her completely, and is falling arse over elbow for her, only to then get tripped up on her own web of wires and do a barrel roll in the dirt. And I know they'll choose each other, I know.

But after she helps him up, I need to see Penelope romance Mr. Bridgerton, assuredly, fervently, loudly.

Because he deserves to be.

#colin bridgerton #polin #bridgerton #penelope featherington #lady whistledown #i just love colin and i want the world for him #i adore him so much #he is so relatable to me in a way so few characters are and it is important for him to have a beautiful love story #right now he's a prince in penelope's tale but why shouldn't HE be wooed too? why can't we acknowledge that she has the power to hurt him?#and hurt him deeply?#and that if she hurts him deeply she needs to make it right?#the same way he did?#and frankly his harm was considerably less painful than hers #idk i just want more for him than one episode of 'you made me feel bad' and then kiss about it #if you don't come to sweep this man off his feet penelope i will do it MYSELF

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bella-rose29 · 1 year ago

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Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 6

Christmas Day, and the final day (supposedly)

Word count: 4.8k (damn that's more than I originally intended to write for this part)

Warnings: unrealistic depictions of winter in Britain (it snows a lot), swearing, Lockwood gets a hug from reader's mum and can't cope, lockwood's lack of sleep is brought up, reader has Feelings and can't cope, Stephanie and Linda are bitches again and get an awful gift for reader, body image issues, lockwood shouts at Steph, mentions of Lockwood's family (and them being dead), Stephanie (she's a warning all on her own tbh), cliffhanger of an ending

the picture doesn't really match the vibes but it's one of the few where he's not wearing a suit 🤡 (but also look how babygirl he looks)

(image credit to lavenderghostco on pinterest)

series master list

Lockwood hadn't slept.

Instead he had spent the night trying to get Y/n to hear him through the locked bathroom door, but then when he'd heard quiet music playing and realised that she'd taken her walkman with her and was sleeping in there he had given up, shifting to lean his back against the door and pull his knees up to his chest.

Then he had used the rest of the night to go over what had been said between the two of them, and how horribly wrong it had all gone.

Why couldn't she have waited another two seconds for him to finish talking?

And why couldn't he figure out how to properly apologise to her?

When the sun had finally risen and slightly blinded Lockwood as it streamed in through the curtains that hadn't been properly closed the night before, he stood up, shaking out his stiff limbs and stretching. He got changed into some fresh, more comfortable clothes, having stayed in his suit from the day before all night, and headed downstairs to make a cup of tea.

"Oh, hello Anthony!" Emma said when he walked in to the kitchen. "Are you... alright?" She was frowning, likely because the dark bags under his eyes were far more prominent from the severe lack of sleep.

"Yes, I'm alright thank you. Just didn't sleep too well last night." He smiled at her.

"Oh dear," Emma replied, putting the kettle on. "Is Y/n alright?"

"She's fine. She did sleep in the bathroom though because she felt a bit sick, but she was out like a light right away." An easy lie to tell about the situation they had found themselves in, and Emma was too distracted making tea to detect any falsehoods.

"As long as the two of you are okay now then that's all that matters. Here's a mug for you, love."

"Thank you." It was strange how easily he got used to being part of this family. He was moving around the kitchen with Emma as though they had been doing it their whole lives, and he suddenly felt a pang of pain as he remembered doing the same things with his own family. Lockwood stopped, staring down into his tea that was now swirling around in the mug and blinking away the tears that threatened to fall.

"Anthony? What is it, dear?"

"It's nothing," he said, wiping at his face quickly and offering up a smile. Emma saw through it, though, and placed a hand on his arm. A similar scene flashed through his mind from last night, and his chest ached even more at the memory of Y/n instinctively comforting him and how he had likely ruined any chance of that happening again.

"Aw, love. I know we don't really... know each other that well, but if you ever want to talk to me about anything you know that you can, right?"

"Yeah, thank you, Emma," he replied. For some reason he felt the need to step forward and wrap his arms around her, but after a few seconds of Emma standing still he awkwardly pulled back, raising a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "S-sorry. I don't know-" he was cut off by her hugging him just as tightly as she had Y/n when they first got to the house, and although he couldn't breathe too well he felt... at home.

"Never apologise, love," she mumbled into his hair, squeezing tightly. "Like I said, if you ever need me, you let me know." she stepped back then to hold him by the arms and look him in the eyes. Lockwood nodded, suddenly feeling five years old again, and dried his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. "Alright?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Now, you take this up to Y/n and make sure she's somewhat dressed and downstairs, because I think everyone else is starting to get up now and we'll do presents in a bit."

Lockwood took the mug and picked up his own tea, heading out the room after a quick thanks to Emma. A thought struck him as he carefully carried the mugs upstairs, and he really hoped that Y/n had presents because otherwise they would be in deep shit.

~~~

"Y/n?" Lockwood's voice tentatively called out. She huffed from where she laid in the bathtub wrapped up in blankets. What did he want? "Y/n? I've... I've got tea for you out here. I'm just gonna leave it on the bedside table for you. Uh, your mum also said that we're gonna do presents and stuff in a bit so... come down when you're ready I guess." He paused for a moment, then said "Do you... do you have presents? Because I didn't actually get anything and now I'm starting to feel bad because your parents are actually really nice and so are your siblings and-"

"Lockwood! Shut up! I got presents, alright?!" She shouted, getting out of the bath. She bundled up the duvet and pillow and opened the door to a slightly dishevelled Lockwood, pushing past him to chuck the blankets on the bed and grab some clean clothes from the suitcase. He had clearly been running his hand through his hair from the way it was sticking up at funny angles, and the bags under his eyes were far more prominent. She frowned, wondering if he'd had any sleep at all last night.

"Alright, I uh... I'll just..." he walked into the bathroom, everything about his movements more unsure and nervous than Y/n had ever seen him.

She changed into the clothes she had picked up, and only realised once the jumper was pulled over her head that it wasn't her jumper she had on.

It was Lockwood's.

She didn't have time to change before he unlocked the bathroom door and came back into the bedroom, stopping short in his tracks when he looked up and saw her stood in the middle of the room in his jumper. "I- This wasn't deliberate."

"I know," he said quietly, and she almost scoffed when he looked at her with sadness in his eyes. What right did he have to look that way when he had said those words last night?

"You're right. I won't ever like you in the same way as the others."

They had played over and over as she tried to get to sleep, wondering how he had managed to sink to an even lower depth in causing her pain than he had before.

"Here," she said when the silence grew uncomfortable, bending down to grab the group of wrapped gifts at the bottom of the case and handing a few to Lockwood. "We should head down I suppose."

"Don't forget your tea. I'll uh- I'll see you down there," he offered up a small smile as he left.

As soon as the door shut behind him she heaved a sigh, eyeing the tea on the bedside table sat right where Lockwood had said it would be. There was no point in letting it get cold, so she waited until the mug had been drained before leaving and going downstairs.

~~~

The tea had been a good way to start preparing herself for Christmas Day with her family, but on seeing Lockwood again (despite it only having been about five minutes) she could feel herself drowning at the prospect of having to fake this relationship for another few hours. At least it was only a few hours, since they were catching the only train running on Christmas Day that afternoon.

"And the last one for you, Y/n! Sorry, Anthony, you've only got a couple because we had no idea what you wanted and only found out you were coming a few days ago!"

"Oh, you didn't have to get me anything at all, Emma, really," he beamed, and Y/n wondered how he could act so well. He had always had a flair for the dramatic, leaping at the chance to put on an accent for reconnaissance for a case, or coming up with ridiculously fabricated tales of fights with Visitors to boast to Kipps, but that wasn't anything compared to hiding the fact that he had argued with the daughter of the woman he was smiling at, and was pretending to date her and love her regardless.

"I won't ever like you in the same way."

That had hurt the most, and Y/n had spent much of her time awake attempting to figure out why. It wasn't the entire sentence about Lockwood not liking her in the same way as Lucy, George, and Holly, as that hadn't been the part that had been on repeat. No, for some reason it had been his admission that his feelings wouldn't change from the hatred they shared that made her want to rip her heart out every time she saw his smile.

"Nonsense!" her mother said as she sat back in her seat. "Alright everyone, get stuck in!"

The next ten minutes were a frenzy of paper being ripped into and presents being opened, and Lockwood and Y/n were curled up on the loveseat like they had on the first day quietly working their way through their piles. At least they had an excuse for not talking to each other, since their presents were taking up the majority of their attention.

At least they ought to have been.

One of Lockwood's arms was around her waist, hand resting lightly on her thigh while he watched her unwrap her remaining gifts. He had long since finished, having thanked Emma profusely for the box of chocolates and ten pound note that he'd been given. Y/n was finding it difficult to concentrate with Lockwood's warmth behind her, and he was doing that thing where he stroked his fingers over her skin. His hand had moved from her thigh to her stomach, fingers drifting under the fabric of the jumper she had accidentally stolen from him and tracing patterns absentmindedly. It seemed to be something that happened any time they were in this sort of position, and she was frustrated at how much she enjoyed it.

"You alright?" he whispered.

"Yep." She didn't look back at him, instead focusing on the plain envelope she now held in her hands and frowning at it.

"Oh!" Stephanie cried out, and Y/n had forgotten just how annoying her voice was since they had barely interacted the day before. "That's from us! It's... well. Why don't you open it up?" If the smirk on Stephanie and Linda's faces were anything to go by, it wouldn't be Y/n's favourite gift she received this year.

"What is it?" Lockwood asked from behind her, peering over her shoulder at the piece of card that had been inside. "A coupon or a gift card or something?"

"Gym membership, Lockwood. They got me a gym membership." Dammit, her voice was shaking and her eyes were prickling with unshed tears, and worst of all she knew that Lockwood could tell. She hated that she leaned ever so slightly further into his body. She hated that when he brought his free hand around her to properly wrap her in a hug she was painfully aware of Stephanie and Linda watching every movement, and could feel their judgement of her body.

Then she hated that she felt safe and protected in Lockwood's embrace, like nothing could hurt her as long as he was holding her.

There was nothing wrong with how she looked, and it wasn't her fault that Stephanie was a size 2 (probably, Y/n had never bothered to ask) and liked to gloat about it frequently, but the cut ran deep and had done for years. When Y/n stood up and left much like she had on the first day, she wasn't surprised to see the triumphant look on her cousin's face.

~~~

Lockwood was fuming, but this time he couldn't set anything on fire.

To be fair, he hadn't been allowed to set anything on fire the previous times it had happened, and multiple of those accounts of arson were Lucy's fault, not his, but he still wanted to burn something.

How dare they give a fucking gym membership as a Christmas present?! What did they think they would achieve in doing so?! Stephanie and Linda clearly looked proud of themselves, and the sight of their faces made Lockwood feel sick when he remembered how Y/n's body had tensed up and curled into him more at the piece of card in the envelope.

Taking his chance after Y/n left the room, Lockwood stood up, then headed over to Stephanie. "Can we talk?" he asked, although the tone he used made it clear that he wouldn't be taking no for an answer. He led her out into the hallway, then into the kitchen for good measure, and his remaining restraint snapped with the sound of the door closing. "Are you out of your mind?" He hadn't shouted, instead keeping his voice as calm as he could, but he knew that his anger was barely contained behind his gritted teeth.

"I don't know what you mean," Stephanie simpered, and Lockwood took a step closer to her.

"A gym membership?!"

Steph shrugged. "She needs it. She's really let herself go the last-"

"No, she hasn't. And I would fucking know, because I live with her. She is perfect the way she is, alright? And you have no right - absolutely none - to give her that sort of thing as a Christmas present. It really just proves that you have no idea who she is, and that you're a fucking terrible person."

"Oh, like you're so honourable!" she spat.

"What's going on?" Emma's voice sounded, and the kitchen door opened to show the rest of Y/n's family that were still in the house. "Why is there shouting?"

"Y/n's little boyfriend here is accusing me of not knowing my own cousin!"

"Because you don't!"

"And you know more about her than me, do you?!"

"It looks like it, yes!"

"Everything was so much better before you turned up, do you know that? Why don't you scurry back to whatever shithole you and your parents live in and we'll carry on with our lives, yeah?" Lockwood flinched.

"Stephanie! Linda, please, can't you do something?!" Emma pleaded. She sent a quiet apology to Lockwood, looking distressed at how quickly Christmas Day had fallen into arguments.

"She's right, Emma. If he wasn't here then everything would be right again. Why don't we keep Y/n here for a few more days, and he can go back to his sad little life with his parents." He flinched again, barely having time to compose himself before Linda was smiling sweetly at him.

"I would, Linda, but I am not leaving my girlfriend here with you."

"Well," Stephanie started. "Why don't you invite your family up here then? I'm sure we'd all love to meet the people that raised such a... lovely... person!"

"Once again, I would," Lockwood said, as nonchalantly as he could, "but I very much doubt that you'd find much to talk to them about."

"Are they deaf or something?" Lockwood saw Y/n through her brothers' bodies, and she was trying to push past them to join him in the kitchen.

"Something like that," he smiled, hoping they couldn't see the sadness in it. Technically his family was deaf, since they were unable to hear anything on account of the fact that they were dead. Y/n stumbled forward, having finally been let through, and she righted herself and walked over to where Lockwood was stood.

"You alright?" she asked, her voice quiet so that only he could hear. "Just heard them mention your family and stuff, and Steph can be really mean about literally everything and I didn't want you to be on your own for that."

"Oh." He blinked in surprise. He hadn't thought that she would care too much since she'd ignored him and hated him thoroughly since last night. "I'm alright; I can deal with it, don't worry." His smile was soft, and for a brief moment he thought he might be breaking through to the Y/n he had come to know over the past two days before everything went wrong, but then the blinds were snapped shut and he was blocked out again.

~~~

Lunch was interesting.

Emma and Ben had slaved for hours to get everything ready, having left the morning celebrations at various points to put things in the ovens, or chop things, or do anything that was needed, and mid-afternoon their hard work was served up on huge plates to the family.

"Thank you, this looks incredible," Lockwood said, and Emma grinned.

"You're very welcome, Anthony!" She sat down in her seat, making sure everybody had food on their plates before taking up her cracker. Y/n's grandparents needed her brothers talking directly into their ears to explain what was happening over the noise of everyone else, and it took a full five minutes to get everybody with crackers in hand and arms crossed over before they could be pulled.

Hats were put on, and pictures taken on the family camera (and then Y/n asked Will to take some on her personal camera too), and finally they could start eating. People read out their jokes and trivia, and while the laughter of various family members was loud, Y/n couldn't help but feel like it was all muffled and distant. She was underwater again, her ears filled with water as she tried swimming up to the surface, but the weight of her cousin's gaze was dragging her down into the depths again.

Then a hand was on her arm, gentle but enough of a pressure that she was being pulled upwards, and Lockwood's voice was in her ear.

"Hey, are you alright? You zoned out for a minute there and I had to rescue your potato from going off the side of your plate."

Sure enough, her fork was pushing the contents of her plate closer to the edge, and she quickly let go of her cutlery to stop it. The knife and fork landed with a clatter, and while conversation didn't stop, it did die down as people looked in her direction. "I'm fine," she replied, knowing she was the opposite. Lockwood appeared to know too, because he was still frowning.

"Are you su-"

"Yes," she said harshly, and he flinched back.

"Okay, sorry." He turned back to his own food, and they didn't speak for most of the rest of the meal.

~~~

"Book!"

"Play?"

"It's a book, you idiot!"

"John, don't call Sam an idiot!"

"Mum, you can't talk when doing a charade," Will said, and he received a glare in response.

"How do you reckon the others are getting on with their holidays?" Y/n asked, and Lockwood was surprised at her question.

"I imagine they're all having wonderful times," he replied, revelling in the smile that graced Y/n's face. It was a shame that the cause of the smile wasn't him, but he only had himself to blame for that.

"That's good. At least most of the company is enjoying Christmas."

Somewhere in the house, a phone started ringing. Ben got up to answer.

"I'm enjoying it," Lockwood said, and Y/n swivelled in her seat a little to look at him. "Besides the obvious, of course."

"Me?"

"No," he huffed. "Why do you keep thinking that you're the last person I want to spend Christmas with?"

"Because you literally said that you wouldn't enjoy a second of it?"

"Well that was a lie, wasn't it? Honestly, do you not remember anything I told you last night about me having a nice time here instead of the usual shitty Christmases since I was six?" That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Y/n froze up and stopped smiling.

"I remember last night, yeah," she mumbled, turning her back to him again. Shit.

"Thinking about it," he said, attempting to salvage the situation, "I haven't seen any baby photos of you yet."

"Be my guest." Her tone was bland, and Lockwood started internally cursing himself for bringing up the night before.

"Y/n, I'm sorry for what I said, alright? I was a dick and I should have explained myself better. Would you-"

"THE BIBLE! IT'S THE BIBLE!"

"YES!"

"WHAT?! THE BIBLE? THAT'S A CHARADE?!"

"Would you hear me out? Please? When we get a moment later," he asked, trying to mask the amount of desperation in his voice.

"You better have a good excuse, Anthony, because you really hurt me, and if you fuck up again I'm leaving."

"Leaving? What, like leaving the house?"

"Leaving the company."

Lockwood thought his heart might give out. "Wh- wha- what do you mean, leave the company?"

"I can't keep doing this, okay? I can't get up every morning just to be verbally abused by you all the time. It's not healthy for me, at all. I have to look out for myself, alright?"

"...Right. Yeah, no, that's... that makes sense." He was still reeling from her confession, so when Y/n's grandmother Jean tapped him on the shoulder he nearly jumped out of his skin. Y/n hadn't noticed, instead joining in with the ongoing game of charades.

"Why don't you take this, dear," she said, giving him a wink and handing over a sprig of some sort of plant.

"Uh... thank you?"

"Mistletoe. You know, it was originally a sign of peace, and if people met underneath it then they had to stop fighting, no matter what. Sounds like you two might need it," she smiled, but unlike Stephanie or Linda there was only love behind it. Lockwood stared down at the plant he held in his hand, but when he went to thank Jean for the gift she had already gone back to whatever conversation she was having with Tom, her previous chat long forgotten.

"I've got some news," Y/n's father Ben exclaimed as he walked back into the room, and everybody turned to look at him.

"What is it? Why do you sound so worried?"

"Nobody is going to be able to travel anywhere for about a week. I just got a phone call from Ted at the office." Lockwood felt Y/n tense beside him, and he tried not to do the same.

"What do you mean, Dad?"

"Snow warning. Weather officials are saying that a snow storm is going to hit us today and we'll all be snowed in. All trains are cancelled for the next week, and then after that it's unclear."

"What? So we're stuck here for another week?" Y/n asked, and Lockwood heard the panic creeping into her voice. This wasn't good at all, especially since he and Y/n now had to continue faking it for an extra seven days when they were back to hating each other. He needed to fix things and fast, or this holiday would continue to derail and end in flames.

"Sorry, love. I know you wanted to get back before the New Year."

"Yeah," she whispered, looking down at the ground. "Shit."

~~~

"Can we... can we talk?" Lockwood asked once they had a moment to breathe. After the news that they would be here for another week Y/n had excused herself and headed upstairs, and Lockwood had apparently followed.

"What is there to talk about, Lockwood?"

"Well don't we need to rethink? Originally we were only here for three days, and that was manageable. Now we're here for an extra week minimum? I don't know, call me crazy but I really do think we need to figure out how we're going to do this." He was running his hand through his hair again (what was in his other one, was that mistletoe?), but he stopped when Y/n looked him dead in the eyes and answered him.

"You're crazy." She didn't even know why he had the plant, unless he was planning on kissing her again and then ripping her heart out afterwards. Y/n went over to the windows to pull open the blinds the rest of the way to ignore the memory of his mouth on hers. They hadn't been properly closed the night before, and with how the sun rose directly through the windows Lockwood had probably been blinded by it that morning and woken up. He looked far too sleep deprived for him to have woken up at half seven in the morning though.

"Ok, well at the very least can we talk about last night?"

Y/n had stopped by the windows, staring out at the landscape and ignoring Lockwood's question.

"Y/n?"

"Holy shit." Where normally the view was the lake nearby and the forest in the distance, rolling fields spreading out in the foreground, now it had been coated in a blanket of white as far as the eye could see.

"What is it?"

"Just... just come and look." He did, hesitantly coming over to stand beside her and drawing in a breath at the landscape.

"Holy shit."

"That's what I said. Fuck. I was hoping it wouldn't be that bad and we could still find a way to get home."

"Yeah, we're not going anywhere in this. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" she frowned, turning her head to look at him. "You're not the snow god who deliberately penned us in my family home for an extra week."

"No, I'm not." Lockwood went quiet, staring out the window but not actually seeing anything, his eyes unfocused as he got wrapped up in his head. "Can we talk about last night? Please?" Y/n looked out the window again.

"What for? I think you said everything I needed to hear."

"I didn't, though. You didn't let me finish saying what I was going to say before you went and shut yourself in the bathroom." His tone was desperate, and Y/n half thought he might start getting on his knees and begging. A memory came back to her of her doing the same thing only a few days ago when she begged him to come with her on this mad venture. He'd been laughing then.

"Well I don't know that I want to know what I missed."

"I was going to say that I won't ever like you in the same way as the others, because I can't. I don't think I realised that until it was too late, but I can't like you in the same way I like George, or Lucy, or Holly, because I think that I'm-"

"Right!" Stephanie shouted, shoving open the door. She stopped short at the sight of Y/n and Lockwood stood so close together, and then again at the pain on Lockwood's face. Y/n hadn't realised that as Lockwood had been talking, he had been inching closer in his attempt to get her to listen to him. They were practically touching now, and Stephanie glanced between them both until they stepped back a little. "You two," she said, jabbing a finger in their direction once she'd remembered what she was there for, "have ruined my Christmas, I hope you know that!" Y/n shared a look with Lockwood. "So watch out, alright? Because I'm coming for you both!" she shrieked, and slammed the door on her way out.

Y/n and Lockwood stood staring at the door for a while before Lockwood spoke up. "Did she seem okay to you?"

"I think she's having some sort of breakdown."

"I thought so too."

"Sort of looked like a banshee or something."

"Especially with the hair all crazy like that, did you see?"

"She'll definitely have a breakdown when she sees that birds are nesting in it, for sure." It felt easy all of a sudden, and conversing with Lockwood wasn't as hard as it had been a couple of hours ago. There was hope, she realised. Hope that he really did have something nice to say. He wouldn't have looked quite so ridiculously desperate for her attention otherwise. She ignored the way that butterflies started fluttering in her stomach at the thought of Lockwood craving her attention so badly. Before this whole ordeal she would have simply felt smug about having the upper hand.

"I really didn't mean it in a hurtful way, Y/n. Although I can see how it came across like that."

"Well what did you mean, Lockwood? Because you did hurt me. And now we're fucking snowed in for a week longer than we planned and Steph is on a rampage. And when Steph is on a rampage she will absolutely have what it takes to uncover this whole fake relationship thing, despite having, like, zero brain cells the rest of the time."

He sighed, clenching his jaw in frustration. "I can't feel the same way because I'm pretty sure I've-" he paused, then took a breath. Why was he taking so long to say something that could make their entire situation easier? He looked uncertain again, and Y/n started feeling nervous.

Lockwood was never uncertain. He was Anthony bloody Lockwood.

Then when he spoke, she realised why.

part 7

Tag list (there are so many people that if I forgot to add you then please let me know and I'll do that right away!): @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12

let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the tag list! <3

#i'm evil for this ending i'm sorry #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #enemies to lovers #fake dating #christmas #deck the halls (and not your partner)

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moirindeclermont · 7 days ago

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Bridgerton folks, how are you?

I've used this day to think about it and I've come up with a new idea. You'll tell ne your favorite or desired "what if?" And I shall continue the story.

How does it work?? My what if for today is "what if the carriage did not stop?"

Let's see what happens next, shall we?

And tell me your "what if" for next prompts...

The carriage stops. Colin is the first to realize they are arrived, but he doesn't want to stop. Pen looks at him, her eyes watching him as to weight his next move.

Beside their brief conversation in which he finally confessed, they haven't spoke a word, communicating through looks and a mutual understanding that, more than anything else, tells him she is the one.

This moment is not different.

She doesn't want to stop either. He manages to shout something at the foot men (what did he shout? Later he asked and they told him to take them to a tour around London... Sometimes he does wonder if Anthony and his claim that he - Colin - is the most insane of them is actually true).

Colin is shouting something at the footmen. It doesn't matter what. The only important thing is that the carriage is moving again and they have all the time in the world to continue what they started.

She never imaged she would be kissed like that. Colin kisses her like he would die of he doesn't have his lips on her, like she is the one breathing for hem both.

He resumes also his activities below. She didn't know what she did consent too... Not fully, at least, but she trusts him to show her and stop if she asks. Now... Now she doesn't know if they can't stop, actually. Even with his fingers inside her, she feels empty and she moan her frustration. "More, Colin... Please"

Colin looks at her and understands what she is asking. Still, he wants to give her a proper first time, on a bed or something like that. "Later, dearest..." He promises, whispering in her ears. "Instead now, I can give you this..."

With a bit of maneuvering he manages to have his head under her skirts.

"Colin... What"

And then she doesn't speak anymore, not with words at least.

She tastes like the best part of his trip. The sea on Greece, the sun of Cipro, the dessert of Italy and the wine from France. He knows he wants to marry her. He knew for a long time, but now, with his tongue in her most secret place, that conviction radicates even further.

He uses his fingers again - as he licks her pearl and he is delighted in feeling her release as she is experiencing it. But they are not done. She is still surprising him.

Pen asks Colin to get near her and she doesn't waste time, kissing him. "Can I see you?" She asks in the most innocent tone and Colin obeys, his hąrd member now in her tiny hands. Colin seems to understand she needs a bit of guidance and helps her setting a rhythm.

"Let me hear you, like you hear me," she says, and she doesn't know who that Penelope is, this outspoken and confident woman, but she is anxious to discover this side of her with him.

His release catches them both by surprises, her hand getting covered in his seed, but she is more fascinated than anything else. She sucks a bit on her fingers and Colin moans loudly.

Colin takes her and place her on his lap, so they can kiss and grope each other on their way home.

"I can't wait to marry you," says Colin and Pen laughs.

"You didn't even ask me," she says and Colin laughs to, realizing she is telling the truth. He will ask, later.

Now, his wife needs him again.

The end

#polin #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton s3 #polin positivity #polin bridgerton #polin brainrot #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin x penelope

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the-other-art-blog · 1 month ago

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Benedict, grief, and bees (Benophie wish list s4)

I have a question for pre-show Bridgerton fans: were the bees that important back then? I mean, apart from the obvious relation to Edmund in TSPWL.

It's very intriguing how the show uses the bee. It is part of the brand, used in hashtags and promo material, yet it is the cause of Edmund's death. The show even made it into the symbol of the family, which I can't remember if it was specified in Julia Quinn's books. Bees are often seen in important moments like the epilogues as visual representations of Edmund's soul/essence looking over his family. I know some people find it weird and even sinister, mainly because Anthony is traumatized to the point he had a panic attack when he saw one on Kate. Is it a bit macabre? To use the cause of death of the patriarch of the family as a cute symbol? Maybe.

But it is what it is and it works for Benedict so it's fine by me. Much like the show's production, it's clear he feels Edmund's presence in the bees. This is amazing character-building! I mean, it's just my speculation, but I'll be damned if they don't make this evident in s4 and connect it to the book.

What does this have to do with the book?

In AOFAG, Benedict has a rock collection.

Benedict doesn't go into much detail since he is dealing with a nasty flu and it's the middle of the night and there's a thunderstorm. He only tells Sophie that he got one of them the day his father died. Sophie then speculates that each rock represents a special memory for him. Now, "special" may be a too positive word, but they certainly represent significant moments in his life.

I'm fascinated by this because it shows Benedict's emotional intelligence. He recognizes the significance of the good and bad moments that shaped his life. He doesn't avoid the bad memories but combines them with those that make him happy. He would have loved Inside out. Yes, the day his father died might be his most tragic day, but it happened and he accepted it. Guys, he was only 16 years old when he collected that rock!!!! And it wasn't the first.

(This also makes him such a complex character cause as much as hr accepts the tragic moments of his life, he also avoids conflict.)

I wonder, where did he get the idea? Did other kids at Eton talk about collections and he made his own? Maybe he didn't know where to start and decided on collecting memories? Was it Edmund's idea? His grandmother's (in First Comes the Scandal it is revealed she also had a passion for art as she did embroidery)? Did he make it to have something for himself? I already talked about how it must have been difficult to grow up with Anthony. Why did he pick the first rock? Did he pick a rock when he got into the Academy? Another when he left?

Moreover, Benedict has a particular sensitivity that the rest of the characters lack.

He only felt the tingling:

the day Edmund died

the masquerade

lake scene

Other shows and movies have this one character who gets a shiver or a tingling, a form of alert that tells them something just happened to highlight a special connection. Lady Mary felt it when Matthew got injured in the war and Beth Dutton felt it when her father died. Surely you can think of other examples, maybe you've felt it too. I know a friend got a call from her mom when she was about to get a tattoo 😂. Actually, I find it refreshing that in Benedict's case, it also announces good things (Sophie 🤗). Benedict doesn't like to call it a "sixth sense" but it kind of is.

And in the end, Sophie confesses that she also felt it:

Soulmates, these two are the definition of soulmates.

Going back to the day Edmund died, Benedict was the only one who had a presentiment that something life-changing was about to happen.

I am not demeriting the other siblings' relationship with Edmund, only saying that Benedict's personality makes him more prone to these mystical connections. In Daphne's words,

All of this is to say that Benedict wearing vests with bees is totally on character and a genius idea from production. Credit when credit is due. Contrary to Anthony, Benedict does not panic at the sight of bees. His grief process was different. Knowing he doesn't chide away from the tragic moments in his life, I understand if he decides to keep his father close by wearing bees. Maybe he feels that insect, in taking his father's life, also absorbed his soul???

Benedict's clothes are custom-made, meaning the tailor follows Benedict's instructions. He himself requests those designs. He didn't just go to a store and see one he liked. This is huge, it's such an important part of Benedict's character and they better use it in s4.

Again, this is my interpretation. Nothing has been confirmed in the show, but it can't be an arbitrary choice that Benedict is the character who has this feature in every season. Eloise had a headpiece in s1, but I think that's it. It could have hinted that she was the one who saw Edmund dying, but s2 gave that to Anthony 😒. This is also why I hope the show explores Benedict and Edmund's connection, cause not everything about Edmund is related to Anthony. He had 8 children, not just one.

I thought about this and I think the show can expand on this scene:

This happens as Benedict is sleeping and suffering, and Sophie is snooping in his desk. It's the amazing scene where she sees his sketchbook. I'll leave that as it is, but the question about the rock collection may happen later when Benedict is lucid and they can have a conversation about it. I want him to tell her about Edmund, what happened that day. It could also be an opportunity for Sophie to think about her father and maybe share a bit of it with Benedict since he's opening up to her. I want him to go into detail about the rest of the rocks, talk about the Academy, and show Sophie his sketches.

I just know Luke and Yerin will break me.

I'm thinking of writing a one-shot about this, cause 1 year is too much to wait and see if the writers did it.

If you reached this part, thanks for reading. I can't seem to make short posts.

I'm making a whole series called #Benophie wish list (this is the tag I'm using and you can read all my posts about it.)

So far, I've covered:

Side plots

Cinderella-Sophie

My version of the Lake scene

Benedict and Anthony Part 1

Benedict and Anthony Part 2: The Academy fiasco

Benedict and Anthony Part 3: Sienna and the Mistress question

And I have at least 1 year to keep writing about this and adapting as we get more info.

Now I'm done, thanks for reading.

#benophie wish list #bridgerton #benophie #benedict bridgerton #sophie baek #sophie beckett #benedict x sophie #bridgerton s4 speculation #bridgerton s4

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justjudethoughts · 1 month ago

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I think my favorite thing Stroud did is introduce Jessica into the narrative, and it's a bit complex to explain why. So I thought I'd start by sharing an unfinished poem written by myself as a bit of a framing "vibe":

There is a very specific, seldom explored, type of grief that accompanies there being more about the person that you don't remember than what you do. Of course, with Lockwood being 9 when Jess dies, he remembers a lot more about her than about his parents. But he was still pretty small, and the older he gets the less he is going to remember, especially considering that the bulk of his memories with Jess would have been before he even turned 9. In the context of Anthony's life, Jess is a historical figure, not a contemporary. And that is a different type of grief than the grief that comes from losing someone when both parties are significantly older.

The type of grief that Jess causes truly is a "ghostly" form. It's the "haunting the narrative" form. And it's a very real thing. It's the type of grief that comes from having a grandparent you never met, but their picture and stories being everywhere around the house and your heart always being aware that something is missing. It's the grief that comes from a tragic, untimely death that leaves the distinct feeling that the person "should still be here."

Our dining room table seats six people, but there are only five of us, so there is always one empty seat that happens to be the seat next to my older brother's spot. My eldest brother was still born, and growing up, sometimes I would look at the empty chair and mentally dub it "Patrick's" chair, where he was supposed to be.

A friend once told me she didn't like the idea of naming a kid after a deceased relative, because it makes the kid "a walking tombstone." That smacked some string in my heart really hard, because if I am honest, that's what I want to be. I want to be a living memorial of the people who have loved me into existence. I want people to know me, and in turn, know the people who my heart aches for. I'm named after my grandmother, who died in her 40s. She didn't meet any of her grandchildren. I also happen to look extremely similar to her. And it is my greatest honor to be recognized because of that. Because everyone loved her. Everyone has beautiful stories to tell. Her funeral was standing room only. If my name and face can be a reason she isn't forgotten, then make me a walking gravestone. I can think of no higher honor.

And I think, in some way (albeit an unhealthy way at first), this is what Anthony is trying to do. He goes by "Lockwood" so the family name always rings out on the lips of the public. He carries on a similar line of work to his parents, and a line of work that could have saved his sister. He doesn't change a single thing in the house. Despite his refusal to talk about them, he organizes his life in such a way that he is a testament to the fact that they are gone.

And then he reads his parents last lecture. Then he puts the pieces together. And something changes in him.

He no longer lives to be a testament to their absence. He lives to be a testament to the fact that they were here. And that it mattered. That everything they were and did mattered. That his parents were close to solving the Problem, and that he is close to finishing their work. That Jessica's death glow never went away so she could save her baby brother. That no matter how short a person's time on earth is, they leave a mark. His family is his reason to keep going. To show the world, over and over again, that they mattered.

And I love Stroud for that.

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #jessica lockwood #lockwood family #rambles

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edgessunflower · 2 years ago

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May I please request a songfic with Han from Fast and Furious for the song We’re Not Making Love No More by Dru Hill?

Okey dokey my love ♥️

We're not making love no more

Pairing:Han Lue x reader

Description:You and Han slowly fall in love after getting out of an abusive relationship

Sure I've been in love a time or two but in the end I still chose you no one could ever could ever make me feel this way that's why it's killing me what we're going through

You were in an abusive relationship for 4 years with a man named Anthony who you had met in middle school and started dating your junior year of highschool but right after graduation he started his behavior of hitting and degrading and as the next 3 years of the relationship went on things got much worse.

Somehow thought 'tween me and you our love would stand the test of time and never ever fade But we're not making love no more we're not even trying to change

After one night which sent you to the hospital for 2 weeks you went straight to the police as soon as you got out getting a restraining order,breaking up with him,getting your things,and moved in with your aunt for 7 months until you slowly recovered,got a new job,found an apartment and moved in as your life became secure and safe.

Tell me how it slips away does it ever stay the same? We don't even talk no more we've ran out of words to say tell me it don't have to change won't it ever stay the same?

You met a couple of new friends as you started working your new job and went out more from clubs and parks to car races and local restaurants becoming friends with the Toretto siblings,Brian O'Connor,and Roman Pearce meeting the man who you would fall in love with and will teach you what real love is.

I know that things aren't going right but don't you think it deserves a fight? A love like ours don't happen every day and we're losing it right as we speak and if we don't wake up it's a memory

You and Han met when he came with brian and roman to help fix your car and help sprucing up your apartment moving things around and after having lunch together getting to officially meet and know han liking how smart and kind he was but also that he didn't let people run him over for it.

A time gone past a love that sailed away and we're not making love no more we're not even trying to change tell me how it slips away does it ever stay the same?

Soon after spending time together you both realized you had feelings for each other afraid that the other didn't feel the same keeping the feelings hidden until an unexpected moment while at his house leads to finding a person who loved you no matter what.

Sometimes I get lonely cause I remember you used to say to me I'm gonna be here for you I would wipe your tears how did it slip away we don't even talk no more we ran out of words to say

After 6 months of dating you told him about what happened to you after he saw a faded bruise on your hip and he was so sweet always asking if you had bruises or scars anywhere so he wouldn't hurt you on accident anywhere on those and you felt so much love from you never felt in any of your other relationships especially with anthony getting engaged and married after 7 years together and being the happiest you both had ever been.

#fast and furious #han lue #fast and the furious x reader #han lue x reader

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fayes-fics · 2 years ago

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It Had To Be You: Chapter 3 - Around London Town (Sun Is In The Sky)

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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: Set 5 years after Chapter 2, serious relationships are ending. You reunite with Benedict and bond over heartbreak.

Artwork credit: @colettebronte

Warnings: discussion of sex/sexual acts, swearing.

Word count: 3.1k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. In this chapter, we are in various spots around London, hence the title. We also get to meet the Kate and Anthony of this AU. Enjoy! <3

Two years ago (5 years later)

“I saw the email,” she sighs, poking her salad. “He just spent 2000 quid on a new king-sized bed.”

“What do you mean you saw the email?” you frown, taking a bite of your fish as you stare across to St Paul’s dome, looking so beautiful lit up at dusk this late spring evening. Oxo Tower is a regular haunt for you, as it’s right around the corner from Kate’s work.

“I mean… he was working on his laptop in bed next to me and got called away, and a delivery notification from John Lewis popped up, and well, I saw it. He's bought a new bed for them,” her jaw ticks as she swallows hard. “He’s never going to leave her, is he?”

“No, Kate, he's never going to leave her,” you echo for what feels like the millionth time.

Your sympathy has limits; this woman, your very best friend, is so smart and so blindingly beautiful; you really don't understand why she has spent the last few years allowing herself to be dicked around by this what sounds like colossal asshat of a married man. She claims he's fantastic in bed and treats her like a queen, but as you've never even met him in the three years she's been seeing him, you can't form an opinion beyond the rose-tinted snippets she shares.

“I know you're right, I know,” she shakes her head a little and reaches for her G&T, downing it with remarkable alacrity. “How's Doctor Tom?” she wiggles her eyebrows comedically, obviously wanting a change of direction.

“Fine,” you offer warily, “at least, I hear he's fine.” You take a deep breath “… we broke up,” you explain as her brow knits.

“What? When? Why didn't you tell me?” she cries.

“I am telling you now. Last week. It just wasn't something I wanted to discuss on WhatsApp y'know,” you shrug, reaching for your wine and taking a fortifying large gulp. You knew you would have to tell your best friend sometime, apparently that ‘sometime’ is today.

“What happened?”

“We’ve been growing apart for a while, to be honest,” you confess, feeling like a burden is lifted just from voicing it. “It was all very grown up. We had a heart-to-heart; I said what I wanted, he said what he wanted, and we agreed it was very different, so he left.”

“My god, you make it sound so simple! And almost businesslike, mechanical. Fucking hell, are you not broken up about it at all?” she raises her perfectly shaped eyebrows, this time in surprise.

“I've had a few days, and you know, I'm alright about it. I'm over it, to be honest. It's better we did this now than after we had gone through with the marriage,” you point out, starting at your now bare ring finger with a short pang of loss. It really was a beautiful ring.

“Well, good point, divorces are expensive and a bloody nightmare, but still…. Five years y/n. That's a long time to be with someone, and you are so matter-of-fact about it!”

“Not all of us are drama queens, Kate,” you jest gently and chuckle as she pulls a face.

“So you want me to set you up? There's that guy at my work, remember?” she singsongs, her brown eyes shining with mischief. “You guys would be perfect; I just know it!”

“Urghh, who?” you will admit to some intrigue.

“Freidrich Hohenzollern, you don't mind the blonds,” she winks.

“Kate! German Freddy?! You set me up with him six years ago!” you roll your eyes. “He threw up your deathly strong margaritas all over my pretty summer shoes,” you bemoan, recalling how it capped off a truly awful barbecue in her back garden. As it turns out, it was only a few weeks before you met Dr Tom. “Besides, I'm not ready to meet anyone yet; it's only been a few bloody days.”

“I thought you said you were over it?” she teases.

“I am, but I’m in mourning about being single again. I don't need anything right now, except maybe a rebound fuck, and I don't want that to be anyone remotely close to our friendship pool, you know? Much better to get with some rando I never have to cross paths with again.”

“Fair enough,” she shrugs but then waves her fork at you. “Just don't leave it too long before you get serious again.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” you laugh.

“I mean, if you stay on the shelf too long, some other bitch is going to snap up your man, and you’ll have to get cats and live alone, a bitter spinster until you die one of those mystery early deaths from unused vagina in about ten years. You’ll even make the news; cos, y’know, the cats, they’ll eat your face after you die. All alone.”

“Thanks, Kate.” you deadpan at that fantastically supportive vision of your future. “Also, so glad to know you are visiting me in my ancient forties, like the wonderful friend you are,” you roll your eyes.

“Bitch please, imma be busy being impregnated for the fifth time by my beautiful husband, James Norton,” she breezes with a huge grin.

“You’ll have to leave the fucking married idiot who doesn't deserve you first,” you point out, perhaps a little uncharitably.

“Touche,” she fires over her water glass. “He’s never going to leave her, is he?” she adds wistfully.

You reach over the table and touch her hand gently. “No darling, he is never going to leave his wife.”

“I know, I know, FUCK, I know…” she sighs dramatically, “Well… this calls for MORE DRINKS!” she states decidedly, banging her beautifully manicured fist on the table.

That, at least, you can fully support.

—

“What happened?” Anthony Bridgerton asks, taking a sip of his beer, his eye on his beloved team on the pitch below as they take a slight hammering at home in Twickenham.

“It's over. I'm moving home,” Benedict sighs, scratching his beard and glancing around the grandstand. “You've still got that spare room, right? Just until I get everything sorted, my stuff shipped back,” he adds, not wanting to be a burden at this age.

“Yeah, it's yours, as long as you need it,” Anthony nods, the older brother instinct kicking in without thought. “Are you sure this isn't something you can work out? Moving back to London seems rash.”

“Not a chance,” Benedict responds morosely, staring at his beer as a fly lands in it and starts swimming—seems like an apt metaphor for the shitshow being thirty-five has become for him. “I offered everything,” he shrugs miserably, “to go for counselling, sleep in the spare room; she's not interested. I knew something was up when some of her shit started disappearing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d come home, and her wardrobe looked half empty, you know, more than just laundry piling up, whole sections missing. Then her art and supplies started to dwindle, and she wasn't replacing them, but she was coming home still covered in paint. I figured maybe she had rented a separate studio space. So I confronted her; asked her what was happening: ‘Que se passe-t-il ici, tessa?’ you know. And she was all ‘de rein’ and ‘c’est tous dans ta tête’ it’s all in my head,” he translates, “and the whole time, I knew I wasn't being paranoid. So one day, I followed her...”

“You did what?”

“Yes, I know, I’m not proud of it,” he admits, “but I went to the coffee shop across the road and followed her. She had a big suitcase, lugging more of her stuff, I guess. So she went straight to a flat in the tenth arrondissement. Her ‘friend’ Clarissa. Yeah, they are definitely not just friends.”

“How do you know?” Anthony checks, sucking in air between his teeth as a Harlequins player hits the grass hard after a vicious tackle

“I watched them fuck on the balcony,” Benedict monotones, “sat in a little cafe opposite and watched my wife screaming her fucking head off as her ‘friend’ went down on her.”

“Ouch.”

“Exactly. She hasn't let me do that in months; claims she’s lost the enjoyment of it. That isn't fucking true, obviously.” He fishes out the fly and downs the rest of his watery beer, placing the plastic cup on the ground and letting his head fall into his hands. “I mean, we haven't had sex in a year, but I thought it's just a rough patch, you know? We could get through it. Until a couple of months ago, she was at least letting me eat her out, and on occasion, when she got drunk, come to think of it, she might even give me a handjob once in a while. So I was dealing with it, thinking it's a blip, we can get through it. But… uggghhhh…. I knew it, you know? This whole time I knew she would kick the shit out of me one day. I just didn't think it would be this far into marriage. Five fucking years Anthony….”

He looks so utterly unmoored that Anthony turns to him and places a comforting arm around his brother. “Listen, infidelity isn't the reason marriages break up; it's just a symptom that something else is wrong.”

“Yeah, well, that symptom is eating my wife’s pussy,” Benedict grouses loudly, uncaring that a whole bunch of people in the vicinity twist around in their stadium seats and stare at him.

Just fucking great.

—

“Ooh, what about this one?” Kate bounds over, holding some utterly dreadful-looking period romance novel.

“Regency? Sex? Kate, please, I’m not that desperate yet,” you say witheringly, staring over your reading glasses at her.

“You’re newly single. This shit might teach you a few things,” she hums unapologetically, waggling the book at you.

“Please, as if I need some American woman telling me how to fuck a handsome Englishman from 200 years ago,” you roll your eyes and take the book from her.

“Speaking of handsome,” Kate sidles up closer, “someone is staring at you in foreign languages.”

You peel off your glasses and look over to see a face you would never forget lurking by a bookshelf. And it’s a jolt to your being. He’s got to be in his mid-thirties by now and sports a somewhat scraggly but short beard. Damn, he’s still so handsome, your mind screams.

“I know him. You’d like him; he’s married,” you needle sarcastically.

“I don’t see a ring,” Kate counters quietly, “when was the last time you saw him?”

“God, maybe five years ago? And he was moving to Paris. To get married,” you explain as you politely raise a hand to wave and nod.

“So that’s a long time ago,” she stage whispers, “maybe he’s not anymore,” she hints.

“Please, he’s so obnoxious,” you dismiss, even as your heart thumps a little harder as he approaches. “Plus, he never remembers me….”

“Y/n y/l/n,” he says warmly as he pulls up nearby.

Wow, okay, wrong on that count.

“Ben! Ben Bridgerton. Hi!” you breeze, feigning nonchalance and quickly dropping the crappy romance book Kate gave you.

“This is…” you turn around, and Kate is gone, waving next to the Hatchards sign and heading out the door. “Well, that was my friend Kate…. How are you? How’s married life?”

“Ahh, not good,” he winces, and you feel awkward as his face goes crestfallen. “I’m getting divorced.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I really am,” you frown, the sting of your breakup lessened somehow.

“How’s Doctor Dorset?” he perks up.

“Oh, I hear he’s fine. We uhh just broke up. Last month,” you nod, and you exchange glances that are so meaningful.

He looks so much wiser, mellow. And it’s not just the beard. Like the cocksureness and swagger have been knocked out of him. He’s learned some hard lessons about life, living but hurting. Something in your heart reaches out to him.

“Coffee and a catch-up?” you offer casually.

“Actually, I��m starving,” he admits, “how about lunch instead?”

You glance at your phone, and there’s a trademark subtle WhatsApp message from Kate.

Ride that fine thing to Rebound City.

I expect all the deets tmrw.

Woof.

“Urghh, sure, looks like I’m free,” you answer, quickly swiping left to clear the screen.

——

You are sitting on the sunny rooftop terrace at Ham Yard sharing break-up stories. Although it’s selfish to admit it, somehow, his melancholy makes you feel better about yourself. That you are more together than you thought. And even more certain you made the right choice not to get married.

“We used to say how life was great because we didn’t have kids,” you explain, pushing your salad around the plate. “How everyone we knew stopped having sex if they had kids. How we could fuck against the window or on the kitchen table, and no one would walk in on us. And I believed him when he said he didn’t want kids. But then…” you trail off.

“He changed his mind?” Ben intuits; his emotional intelligence momentarily takes you aback.

“He went to stay with his sister for a week to celebrate some family thing; I had to cover an event, so I couldn’t go. Anyway, she has three kids. And he came back different; kept saying maybe kids aren’t so bad. Even after his brother-in-law admitted they no longer had sex cos childcare was so exhausting, mind,” you gesture with your hands. “And he just started to drop hints about how we aren’t getting any younger - I'm only thirty-fucking-one - and how kids ensure a legacy….” you stab a piece of cucumber. “That’s when I snapped, and I just said. Listen, I don’t want kids, and if you do, maybe we need to rethink this engagement, cos I’m not going to change my mind. And he looks at me horrified. As if it doesn’t compute that a woman would never want children. ‘I thought that was just a thing to establish your career, then you’d take a break and have kids. My income more than provides’,”

Benedict huffs a gentle laugh at your deliberately lousy impression.

“And I said back, ‘I love my job, I don’t want to give it up and certainly not to have kids’. And he replied, ‘Well, I want a wife who will give me kids’. And I said, ‘Well, that’s not me’. And then he left.”

Your harsh but accurate summary of that shitty afternoon somehow feels lighter now you’ve shared details. You don’t want to dwell on how odd it is that you’ve given him, a man you’ve seen twice in ten years, more than you shared with your best friend.

“And the thing is, we never did fuck spontaneously like that anyway,” you sigh, sipping your coffee.

“Not on the kitchen table?” he raises an eyebrow.

“Not once. Not even against the window. He doesn’t like doing it standing up,” you shrug.

“That’s a shame. It’s fun,” Benedict opines, but it’s not like in the past when he would’ve used it as a blatant flirtation; it’s more like he’s simply agreeing with an empiric truth.

“Agreed,” you nod and fall silent as you can tell he’s gearing up to talk more.

“I knew Tessa was bisexual when we got together,” he sighs, elaborating on his breakup story. “To be honest, I think that’s what made her so damn sexy at first, the stupid caveman idea she’d be into threesomes,” he rolls his eyes and shakes his head slightly at the naivety of his younger self. “I just didn’t think she would do the almost cliched thing and cheat on me with a woman.”

“Doesn’t it hurt less? That it’s not another dick that led her astray?” you frown.

He huffs a laugh. “Never thought of it like that. But it’s more the helplessness of it. That’s the one thing I can’t be, a woman. And that’s what she wants.” he twists his mouth into a thoughtful pout before continuing. “She moved in with her. But she didn’t tell me. Didn’t have the guts. She just kept moving her stuff out slowly. I’d prefer she was honest and told me, but she played mind games. Tried to gaslight me into thinking it was all in my head.”

You drop your fork and decide to inject some humour, knowing the sign that he’s getting too maudlin. “Hold the bloody phone. Did Benedict Bridgerton just use the word gaslight?” you tease. “Bloody hell, we have gotten old.”

He looks up and meets your eye, an appreciative glint in the down-sloped corners as he chuckles in agreement. The look lingers for a beat longer than it should, and all you can think is the slight crinkles around his eyes lend him a more mature beauty, somehow more deadly than the pretty, fresh-faced idiot you shared a car ride with ten years ago. Benedict Bridgerton with heartbreak is a beautiful sight, perverse as it may be to think it.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” you offer conciliatory, reaching out to touch the back of his hand. His skin is soft; you can feel his pulse in the prominent vein under your fingertip, and something in you runs warm.

“You know, the first time we met, I really didn't like you,” he confesses as you withdraw your touch, “you were so uptight about the world; you’re much mellower now.”

“Way to wrap a compliment in an insult,” you pull a face, and he laughs. “You were just utterly nonplussed that someone might not want to fuck you—-that's why you didn't like me,” you add, raising an eyebrow pointedly.

“What's the apology deadline for being a young idiot?” he winces and shoots you an adorably contrite expression.

“Hmmm, ten years,” you volley back, unable to stop your grin.

“Oooh, well, it's mid-May, and that was late May, so I am juuuuust in time,” he jests, and you feel a warmth inside your ribs as you smile at each other.

After eating, you find yourselves wandering together, crossing under the mature trees of Golden Square.

“Are we becoming friends? For real this time?” An ironic smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I mean, I forgive you for not ever texting me after I gave you my number all those years ago,” he teases, and you blush.

“We might be,” your tone playful.

“Huh, a woman friend,” his brow knitting, “that’s novel.”

You laugh, and again your eyes meet.

“You know you may be the first attractive single woman I don’t want to fuck…” he confesses.

Something in you feels conflicted. Pleased he has matured enough to be that way, flattered he feels willing to admit it to you as a friend, and the part you don’t want to think about too much, the tinge of sadness that fact gives you.

“That’s wonderful, Ben,” you reply as he loops your arm and keeps strolling.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #it had to be you fic

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willameena · 6 months ago

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13 books

What’s up readers?! How about a little show and tell? Answer these 13 questions, tag 13 lucky readers and if you’re feeling extra bookish add a shelfie! Let’s Go!

this is such a cute idea! thanks for the tag, @magnusbae <3 all your recs sound awesome!

Last book I read: the last one I completed was Machines Like Me, by Ian McEwan. I'm on the last chapter of 5 Tuesdays in Winter, by Lily King, right now, and it's excellent. Machines Like Me had a cool premise, but I thought it really fell flat and got bogged down in the hypotheticals of 80s British politics, which I don't know much about to begin with, and while I thought it was cool that it explored what could have been if Margaret Thatcher weren't elected PM, it seemed like the book could have just done without that entire subplot, as the premise was advanced AI. Anyways.

A book I recommend: Fight Club, by Chuck Palahniuk. A great movie, of course, but I love the book even more and my best friend recently started reading, at my recommendation so I'm very excited to hear her thoughts when she's done. I want to do a reread myself!

A book that I couldn't put down: Unfortunately, I don't have the amount of free time to be able to sit down and read uninterrupted. I haven't read an entire book in one day in a very long time, although I devoured them daily as a kid. In a less literal sense, Revenge of the Sith and Labyrinth of Evil. I have those downloaded to my phone, in the Kindle app, and I couldn't stop reading them. Having it on my phone made that easier to achieve, haha.

A book I've read twice or more: Again, I haven't done a reread of any books in a little while :( I read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo a few times though, pre-kids, when I had more time. Now, I prefer to move onto something new. It's one of my favorites, and the trilogy is so excellent.

A book on my TBR: I have quite a few that purchased from my favorite used book store that I haven't gotten to yet! Dune is one of them, and I'm excited to start that, although I think I'll read something shorter when I finish the book I'm currently on.

A book I've put down: I don't often put down a book I've started, just because I'll either hold out hope that it's going to get better, or I'll want to be able to explain in detail why I disliked it, haha. Sometimes, I'll put one down and return to it if I feel like it is too heavy for me at the time. I did try and read Lord of the Rings when I was a kid, and I just couldn't get into it... I'm hoping this doesn't make me any enemies lol

A book on my wish list: I really want a paper copy of Revenge of the Sith! I'd like paper copies of a few other Star Wars books that I have on the Kindle app, but that one's top of the list.

A favorite book from childhood: I was such an avid reader as a child! I didn't go anywhere without a book, or two. I loved A Wrinkle in Time, the Inkheart series, The Chronicles of Narnia, Roald Dahl's books, a book called Mandy, which was written by Julie Andrews. I loved Harry Potter, but everything that's happened has left a bad taste in my mouth.

A book you would give to a friend: The Almost Moon, by Alice Sebold, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The Bell Jar, if they hadn't read any of those yet.

a book of poetry or lyrics that you own: If They Come for Us, by Fatimah Asghar, I can't recommend this enough!! It is absolutely gorgeous and very powerful. I believe they have also written a novel, which I haven't read yet. Where the Sidewalk Ends, and Falling up, by Shel Silverstein, which are my old copies from childhood and very worn and treasured <3 I have a book of Rupi Kaur poems as well.

a non-fiction book you own: quite a few! Spiritual Midwifery, Birth Without Fear, a couple books about Kurt Cobain, Anthony Keidis' memoir, Scar Tissue, a multitude of parenting books, a half marathon guide book, and some books in the "Highly Sensitive Person" series, which I really recommend for those who consider themselves a highy sensitive person

What are you currently reading: I've got 1 chapter left of 5 Tuesdays in Winter, which is a collection of short stories and has been a beautiful read. I'm also working through "The Highly Sensitive Parent" and "Half Marathon, You Can do it!" which sounds ridiculously corny, but is actually really informative and helpful, because I'm training for a half marathon

What are you planning on reading next: I think either Choke, by Chuck Palahniuk or The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, by Mark Haddon. My best friend bought it for me and said I would love it, so I'm guessing I'm gonna love it!

Soooo this was incredibly long and if anyone has read all of this, wow, haha. Thanks again for the tag @magnusbae this was super fun!

No pressure tagging: @cottonraincoat @sendpseuds @piecesofeden11 @wandering-not-lost04 @dragon-on-ice

@kenobster

@lesbianakins @tideswept @unspuncreature @sky-kenobye @betweensaintsandmonsters

@hausofroxann @kato-neimoidia

Also, a shelfie? A shelf selfie? A bookshelf picture? That's so adorable. I recently put up these shelves and while they don't hold all of my books, I really enjoy them and I am 100% taking the opportunity to show them off

#why is the tagging so weird?#I think it works

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girllookingoutwindow · 7 months ago

Note

So gentle ladies are told very little about relations with men. But do you think men are also told very little about relations with women, specifically comfort?

I think about Sofa Boy Colin. There is a great reddit thread by lemonsaltwater about how Sofa Boy Colin is actually growth from denial-rake Colin and drinking-my-insecurities Colin.

The reddit thread continues that he sleeps on the couch because he doesn't want Pen to feel insecure about his devotion [rake no more] and he too needs to be near her. But he won't act on his lust while there is discord.

Does Colin know that there is a whole spectrum of comfort and intimacy in marital relations that isn't sexual? A handshake was "unusual." Cradling her hand in his bandaged hand was overwhelming. Cuddling in the carriage had him nearly leaving his body. Does he really know what happens in a marriage, what he can ask for?

The audience can imagine the fullness of Violet's marriage to Edmund. But she talks about passion, and grand romance, not small comforts. Colin was a child when he lost his father, so he may not have seen or registered any small comforts. Anthony was allergic to his feelings when he was falling apart over Kate. Meanwhile, within S3, the audience sees how naturally Kate and Anthony have settled into reaching out for each other in romance and in times of stress.

Who is going to tell sensitive boy Colin that a beautiful benefit of marriage is to cry in the arms of your best friend? So, what he can come up with since he can't romance his wife but he can't be alone is to sleep on the couch.

Meanwhile women, Penelope, are told be supportive, be available, be what he needs. Full stop, in any kind of marriage. So she sees Colin's sleeping on the couch as him pulling away, not scrambling to staying near. So if he wants space, she'll give him space.

He doesn't want space.

Hi, I love this. I agree about that he doesn't want space and the way Penelope was told to be supportive. But personally, I don't agre with most of the fans that they say she was just giving him space in 3x08, I think she was trying to protect herself like she did in 3x01. She gives him space, but she's hurt.

I think your analysis about what intimacy can be for someone like Colin, and what he want, it's very interesting and beautiful. I don't think Pen, was used to see her mother giving that kind of affection to her father either. But, she could understand a little more about it. I believe she can see that he doesn't know how to approach to her really, and that's why she ask. I even believe that the reason because she asked the kiss is the same. Even if she doesn't know how he feels about her. Before of that kiss Colin possibly didn't connect a kiss with something romantic and sensible and not lust. Not because he couldn't understand the concept, just because he never felt it before.

He didn't have a real kiss and he didn't new the true nature of intimacy before of it. So, I think it was the same about intimacy in other forms. He doesn't want to have sex with her when he's angry but he doesn't reject her when she took his hands. A moment I really love, that I don't see people talk to much is the way he gets close to her in the Francesca's wedding. It's just the need of intimate contact, and a way to reassure her.

I really appreciate this message.

#polin #bridgerton s3 #bridgerton #bridgerton polin #bridgerton spoilers

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inneedofsupervision · 5 months ago

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I didn't ask, did I? (Chapter 5)

Happy begrudgingly steps aside and walks after Tony into the diner. The billionaire skillfully ignores the gasps of surprise and the poor attempt to take pictures of him secretly as he strides straight up to the counter. "Two cheeseburgers and a large fry. To go." "Please get in line and wait for your turn, Sir." "Excuse me?" Tony slowly pulls his sunglasses down and glances at the skinny teen behind the register. "Bad hearing comes with age, huh?" mutters the teen under his breath.Happy makes a choking sound behind him.

Or, how Tony Stark gets sassed by some high schooler working part-time and makes it his mission to figure out what he did to make this kid he'd never seen hate him. If that means annoying the hell out of said high schooler, that's not his problem.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Chapter Summary: Something unexpected happens while the team's at the Avengers Compound.

Read on Ao3.

"Anthony Edward Stark, what did you do?"

The man in question jumps as the door to the conference room bursts open, giving way to a furious-looking Pepper Potts. Tony pulls at his tie, loosening it with a roll of his eyes before turning around, face morphed into a wide apologetic smile.

"Pepper Virgina Potts, you cannot imagine how delighted I am to see you. Is that a new blouse? It looks magnificent."

"Something's wrong, Mrs Potts?"

Tony turns to glare at Steve, the latter raising a single eyebrow before gesturing for him to look at his fiancee. Tony's head reels back, facing Pepper. Her lips form a thin line, pressed together firmly as she tries to suppress most of her anger and keep a professional face.

"Ten bucks, Tony screwed the pooch," whispers Clint behind his hand with a snicker. Natasha's lips tug upwards at the corner. Tony turns with a glare, pointing a finger at the archer.

"Shut your mouth, Legolas. Mommy and Daddy are talking."

Clint grimaces at the comment but kicks his legs up the table. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back to enjoy the show.

"Feet down, now."

Clint's boots are off the table in an instant.

Tony smirked at how quickly the archer cowered at his fiancee's words. One glance at Pepper makes him realize he did not have the privilege to laugh, as he's currently the main target of her wrath. The man quickly schools himself, setting up his best placating smile. "Darling, although incredibly smart, mind reading isn't on my list of traits, so tell me what I can do to get you to relax again."

Pepper crosses her arm over her chest, eyes narrowing.

"Don't you dare try to tell me to relax when you caused the press to run wild and SI stocks to go into an all-time-deep in a day, Tony!"

Sam whistles. "That's almost impressive. What did he do?"

Tony turns, glaring, pointing his finger at them. "The peanut gallery is closed for today. No clever comments coming from any of you, capiche?"

The rest of the team keeps quiet as they watch Pepper scolding the man whose shoulder sinks further as the strawberry-blond woman asks him if he has completely lost it.

"Pepper, darling. Please, whatever I've done, the PR Team can manage it," he tries, but Pepper is having none of it.

"You know what, tell me if they can," says the angered woman. She glances towards the ceiling. "Friday, if you would be so nice."

"Of course, Miss Potts."

The flatscreen at the wall turns on, all heads turning towards the live broadcast playing on the big screen.

"Is that the Tower?"

Steve leans his arms on the table, brows furrowed as he stares at the drone footage playing, showing a side of the well-known building, thoroughly covered in black and white paint.

"What even is that?" asks Sam, who tilts his head in confusion.

Tony's mind is blank. His building got used for some crazy idiots canvas to portray their juvenile act of rebellion or whatever that imitation of a zebra on crack is trying to be, and he finds out about it in the news.

His Tower.

Full of paint.

"Friday, volume up," he snaps, jaw clenching in anger.

The voice of the news anchor raises. Every person in the room has their eyes on the screen, where a camera zooms in on the large image of a quadrat filled with black and white rectangles that overtake most of the glass facade.

"A statement regarding the allegations is still pending from Stark Industries. The burden of proof will be challenging for the concern to sweep under the carpet; the video has already been shared over a million times and is spreading like wildfire on the Internet. It shows SI owner Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man, in a dispute with a minor working part-time at a fast food store. The huge QR code painted on the Stark Tower with graffiti spray, which is scannable even from several miles away, regained the attention of the video a thousandfold."

The camera focuses on the reporter, who now takes out her cell phone and opens a QR-Scanner, demonstrating how the code causes a link to a video to pull up.

"How in the world did someone paint this on a building? Doesn't the lines have to be perfectly straight for a scan to work? That's honestly impressive. Hey, don't glare at me. You are the one who caused that if the lady on the TV is right," defends Sam himself when the billionaire throws him a bitter look. Before Tony can tell Sam to shut up, he gets shushed by Natasha, who watches with interest as the video begins to play.

"Good luck to your PR Team," comments Clint, grimacing in unease when Peter Parker's voice echos through the conference room, begging to keep his job.

"Tony, how could you do that to a kid?"

Tony is ready to throw his drink at Steve at the disappointment that drips from the man's voice while the blond's face shows a hint of anger.

"I got framed! This kid is pulling your leg. He's acting," Tony tells them as he points at the screen, but the image of him leaning over the counter of a specific fast food chain, holding onto the arm of an employee who begs him not to get fired, doesn't help much to convince his fellow teammates. Tony doesn't know if the news channel or the person uploading the video has pixeled the kid's face and laid a voice modulator over the sound of Parker's voice to keep his privacy. What he did know is that the caption under the video didn't help make him look less like a grade-A douchebag.

"Tony Stark getting high school employee fired from a part-time job. Damn, Stark. That's low even for you," states Sam, shaking his head.

Tony could tear his hair out in frustration.

"I told you, the kid's acting!"

Steve, who had stood up from his chair, puts a hand on his shoulder on his way out, having seen enough.

"Maybe you should stay out from the next few missions until it's settled."

Tony blinks at him in disbelief.

"You're kidding, right?"

Steve pats his shoulder.

"We all have bad days, Tony. But this isn't the way. Get this sorted out, and you're back on the team."

The others follow soon, walking out of the conference room and leaving Tony with a still frowning Pepper.

"Steve's right, Tony. You have to get this sorted out."

She gives him a last look before also walking out of the room.

Tony runs a hand over his face, a tired sight leaving him before telling Friday to turn off the TV. His knuckles are turning white with how hard he's balling his hands into fists as he stalks around the room, mind going miles a minute. A million and one questions are running through his head, questions he couldn't answer, and that drives him more mad than the fact his tower got turned into a memorial of his failure to keep his cool. Why didn't Friday notify him someone put a hand on the Tower? How did they paint the facade of an eighty-story tall building?

Even though there were many questions without an answer, Tony had a hunch about who was behind all of this. Who had to be behind this petty act of revenge?

On his way out, Tony checks his reflection in the glass door, pulling his tie straight.

"Friday, give me the kid's location."

It's time to go looking for Peter Parker.

#marvel fanfic #marvel #spider man fanfiction #spider man #peter parker #the avengers fanfic #iron man #tony stark #captain america #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #black widow #clint barton #hawkeye #sam wilson #falcon #pepper potts

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boxerharrys · 6 months ago

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The New Girl Spencer x F Reader

sorry for any spelling mistakes or punctuations missing! and I'm not the best at writing but I was excited to get this out!

Part 1 ( trying to make this like a real fanfic a true story to it)

Description: you were a somewhat popular YouTuber on your own. you focused on vlogging and funny sketches through out college. you watched Smosh for years admiring their work. but as you join their crew after graduating you start to admire more than their work....

Sunday:

you spent the night finishing editing your vlog of the week and watching Smosh; they seemed to help you cruise through editing. until a newer Smosh video starting to play in the background you heard Ian mentioning how they were open for a new cast member; you stopped in your tracks of what you were doing 'I'm sorry what did he just say' you said in your head rewinding the video. "Since a lot of our members right now are soaring with new projects and opportunities we are open for a new cast member!' Ian said through your laptop. 'no way id get the gig' you thought to yourself, you've dreamed of working for Smosh for years. 'what would happen if I sent in a application... I mean doesn't hurt to try I guess' you said to yourself. you went to the description and clicked the link where applications were going through. Although you didn't have much going on you just finished college and didn't have a big resume but you did have your channel. you filled out all the paper work and sent a link to your channel, like you said not much going on so you don't even get excited. you then continue finishing your editing and schedule it to post for tomorrow at !2pm. you then got into bed with your laptop and continued your mini marathon of Smosh to ease you to sleep.

Friday:

It has almost been two weeks since you entered your application to Smosh obviously not even thinking about it since you doubted anything from the start. Until you were home working on some sketch ideas and you received an email from Smosh… ‘the fuck’ you said to yourself. ‘Probably telling me how they regret to inform me they picked someone else’. You didn’t even look at the email you knew there was no way anything was coming from it. Till you received yet another email this time from ‘[email protected]' you froze; as you sat there frozen for a good you’d say 5 minutes but it was more like 45 seconds you finally went to open the email.

To: (your email)

From: [email protected]

Hello Riley my name is Selina from Smosh! You should’ve got an email from out regular Smosh email congratulating you on an interview with Ian, Anthony and I! Was just reaching out to see when the best time and day would work for you to meet with us! Let me know! Below in the address and times we are open to meeting!

Thanks!

Selina

You felt like you were going to throw up. You had to re-read the email at least 3 more times. ’There’s no way I got an interview’ you said to yourself. But then you said ‘shit I got an interview’ you went to email Selina back and told her a date and time you could meet, ‘how’s Tuesday at 8?’ You emailed back; giving you enough time to mentally prepare and physically prepare for whatever the hell kind of dream you’re in. You then started going through sketches you had and dealt with one you never actually ended up filming for your channel. You had a lot of inspiration from Smosh and their TNTL series so you had a lot of jokes for that situation if you were ever in a predicament that you needed jokes for something like TNTL. You then printed everything out that you needed for your interview since the first initial email said to have those ready when you come. You then received an email back from Selina confirming that day and time was great for everyone. You made the decision to take a bath; you needed to relax your nerves were through the roof. You started the water added some bubbles and went to your kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine. After your 30 mins bath you went to your room an put Netflix on and went to bed.

Finally it was Tuesday at 5 in the morning you were making yourself a cup of coffee considering you were so nervous you couldn’t sleep last night. Still chose to be up early enough to shower, pick a good enough outfit to compare to Courtneys awesome fits she usually wears, your make up, and hair. The Smosh office was 25 minutes away from where you live so it was finally time to leave; rushing out the door you did a full 180 remembering your paperwork you needed.

Once you got to the office there was a buzzer at the front door.

You press the button.

“How can I help you?’ Selina says through the speaker

“Hi its Y/F/N I’m here for an interview”

“Yay come on in” Selina says as she buzzes you in.

You took the your atmosphere in, not believing what you’re experiencing since Smosh was your childhood and you’ve watched them every year of your life.

You were then met with a happy lady that you knew was Selina!

“Hi it sonic to meet you I’m Selina! We are so excited to talk with you today!

She shows you to the conference room passing some of the cast and crew; where you’re met with Ian and Anthony. You’re a great actor so you good with keeping your composure.

“Hey its nice to meet you” Anthony says smiling

“Yes we are so excited to pick your brain today” says Ian

“Well let get this show on the road then I’m excited to pick your brains as well” you say confidently to your inspirations.

Spencer:

As he was eating lunch with Courtney, Shayne, Angela and Chanse; he was distracted from the conversation as he saw a beautiful women walk by with Selina.

“Guys I swear I just saw an angel…” he says getting everyones attention.

“Did you drink too much Kickstart today Spence” says Court laughing.

“Yeah what are you going on about” Chanse says with a questioning look.

“Did you guys hear about anything with hiring a new cast member or do we have some type of brand we are going to work with be cause I just saw Selina walking the most beautiful women to the conference room!” Spencer says to them.

“No” everyone says in union.

Then I see then And give the most sly look ever

“ You know the conference room is all glass we could talk a look” she says wiggling her eyebrows.

“No I’m not getting fired from the dads” says Shayne.

“Im in!” Chanse yells

“Angela I can’t either let me know wtf is going on tho” Spencer says

He watched Angela make an amused face to Chanse and they get up pretending to be some type of ninjas or spy tiptoeing around us and sining action movie music

“ They are idiots” Spencer says paling his face

They come running back

“He's not lying she gorgeous; id go straight for her” says Chanse

“yeah id go gay for her” Angela says

“Oh my god guy what!” Courtney exclaims.

“What does it look like is going on” Spencer says.

“I don’t know but they were going over some type of paperwork” Angela says while sitting back down.

“Looks like well have to ask Selina afterwards… we gotta get going its almost call time” Says Shayne.

Back to Y/N

So everything looks great Y/N” says Anthony!

“Thank you” you say as you start to blush.

“So I think we would benefit from you a lot” says Ian

“Oh wow guys um thank you… I will like to be honest with you now hahaha….. you guys have inspired me so much thought my life and this is crazy that this is even happening and I’m very thankful I really didn’t think anything would come from me applying” you explain.

“Well I’m glad to know that but its happening and we would love to hire you! So do you have any pitches for us?” Anthony says

“Actually yes its for TNTL I think you guys should do a nostalgia episode where its nostalgia jokes and skits coming back whether its the same stuff or stuff rebranded I think the fans would love it!” You say geeking out a little.

Ian and Anthony look at each other and smile… “ you know what I really love that idea, Selina can yo see when we can do that and make a call sheet for it”

“Yes defiantly…. So Y/N think you can start next Wednesday? I can send you everything tonight you’ll have the rest of the week to look over and prepare and we can start with maybe just one call time that day if that sounds good to you?” Selina says smiling

“YES” you exclaim!

“Perfect ill show you out! Unfortunately we can’t introduce you to any of the other cast members because they are filming right now but you can meet some of the crew! I’ll show you around so you’re not too confused next week!” Selina says.

“ Thank you!” You say as standing up. “And thank you so much guys it was pleasure meeting you and I’m excited to start” you say as shaking Ian and Anthony’s hands.

You walk out with Selina and get your tour then head home to start preparing for the best thing that has ever happened to you.

Okay that is all for now let me know if I should continue!

#spencer agnew #smosh squad #smosh #ian and anthony #Spencer Agnew X reader #Smosh fanfic #smosh spencer #smosh fanfiction #smoshblr #angela giarratana

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maraschinomerry · 2 years ago

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Distracted part 2

Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader

Summary: after Lockwood tells Lucy and George about his encounter at the auction, the three of them set out to find you and the book

Content: making out, deep conversation, mention of manipulation

A/N: thank you all so so much for the love on the first part (which is here, originally requested by @superpositvecloudshipper) and thank you for being patient with me for the follow-up, hope you like it!

Word count: 2k

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear + @rinisfruity14 @tigerthealien @honey-with-tea @frogmanfletch @ayoitsmickey

George paced furiously around the kitchen. Deep shadows crossed his face every time he turned away, the blackness of the night beyond the window not providing a single speck of light. "I can't believe you lost the book, Lockwood. Jesus, Barnes is going to kill us. We're screwed."

Lockwood heaved a sigh from the table, where he was scribbling something about you, the mystery woman from the auction, on the Thinking Cloth. "It's not my fault, I got trapped with this relic hunter and she pinned me down and stole it."

The thudding of George's footsteps ground to an abrupt halt and Lucy, on the other side of the table, snapped to attention. Lockwood almost squirmed under their scrutiny.

"She?" George frowned.

"We need to find her. What did she look like?" Lucy listened as Lockwood rattled off a remarkably detailed description of you and fought to keep her expression neutral. "Was she pretty?"

"Yes. Wait. No. I mean-"

Lucy burst out laughing while George stared in horror. "Oh my god, so when you say she pinned you…" Her face split into a mischievous grin.

George slammed his hands onto the table, making everyone's teacups rattle. "Do not finish that thought. But as much as I really don't want to say it, Lucy's right. We do need to find her and the book. And I think you know how we go about it."

—

"You never fail to surprise me, Locky."

The trio were down at the wharf in the early rays of morning, trying to find out if Flo knew you or your whereabouts. Much to Lockwood's chagrin, the other two were more than happy to divulge every detail they knew. Lucy had even put aside her disdain for the other girl to be able to fully participate in the gossip.

"I know, I lost a fight, these things happen. It was a very crowded space."

"I was talking about you finally being intimate with someone."

Lockwood blushed. "I wouldn't exactly call it-" the words died in his throat as Flo threw him a knowing glare. "Okay fine, but that's not why I- why we need to find her. She stole something important, and we have to get it back. Please, Flo."

"Fine. But I'm not coming with you. Being a relic woman was my thing until she decided to steal the idea, along with a bunch of my sources. It won't be pretty if I see her again."

—

Someone was coming. More than one someone. The sounds of multiple sets of feet and muffled voices echoed off the concrete walls of the place you called home, a disused undercroft in South Bank. You tucked yourself behind a pillar, pulling a knife from the holster on your leg.

"Hello?" The voice that called out was deep, but not deep enough to be a man's, and oddly familiar. "I'm here for the book." Oh.

You slipped out from your hiding place to see the boy from the auction flanked by a bespectacled, curly-haired boy dressed all in orange and a pretty brunette girl in a practical blue playsuit and leather jacket. They were both a little shorter than him.

"Hello darling," you flashed him a smile, noting the way the other two people glanced at each other behind his back. How much did they know? "I'm afraid you've wasted your time, though I'm sure I can make it up to you." Knife still in hand, you stepped a little closer. He didn't move, just looked you up and down, but the girl switched from behind his shoulder to in front. He murmured something to her, and you caught the name Lucy.

"You can make it up by not lying to me again."

"Okay, first of all, I never lied to you. I did have fun and you definitely seemed to. Secondly, what makes you think I'm lying now? I don't have the book."

"You're too smart to get rid of something that valuable. Personal insurance, didn't you say?"

"My my, you've got a good memory. Either that or you've been really thinking about me."

"We are still here, you know," the other boy interrupted. "Any time you want to let us know what's going on would be great, or shall we leave you to it?" The girl, Lucy, waggled her eyebrows a little. She definitely knew the whole of it, then. The taller boy pondered for a moment before giving them an apologetic smile and saying it was perhaps best.

As soon as they were gone, you sheathed your knife and took the boy by his tie. He gulped as your fingers ran up and down the smooth silk - not pulling, not forcing, just reinforcing the fact that you were unarmed and right in his personal space. His hand came up, ghosting across your shoulder, before it dropped and he cleared his throat.

"So, what exactly do you need personal insurance for?"

"Oh please, don't say it like you don't know. You're friends with that Bones girl, you've probably dealt with tons of relic hunters. It's just another part of the lifestyle."

There was something soft and sincere in the way he looked at you, a far cry from the angry, passionate boy you'd met the first time. He sat on one of the hard concrete benches and held out a hand. "Then you know you can trust me with it."

You refused the hand, but in spite of yourself sat down next to him with a huff. The last thing you wanted was to go churning out some sob story, especially with a fling so quick you still didn't actually know his name, but if that was what it took for him to leave you alone then so be it. Although, you had to admit, there was a tiny part of you that was pleased he'd come looking, that you'd got the chance to see him again. He seemed nice. Sharp enough to go toe-to-toe with you yet caring enough to know when to stand down. Your world would eat him alive.

"Nothing good comes from trusting others." You half-expected a snappy retort, a speech about the healing power of friendship, but he must have sensed the weight behind your words because he said nothing, simply waited for you to elaborate. So you did.

The long and the short of it was that you'd been an idiot. When you first became a relic hunter, you had only just lost your Talent and had no idea how to navigate the world without it, so you'd fallen in with a more experienced guy a few years your senior. He taught you everything you needed to know, helped get you on your feet and fending for yourself, but he also used your loyalty against you and tricked you into an obligation to give him a cut of anything you earned on a hunt. It wasn't enough that you couldn't afford to eat or anything, but just enough that you'd never be able to break away and gain your dependence from him. The book was your insurance because technically you hadn't got it on a hunt, so it was your nest egg for when you finally got the confidence to break free from him.

"Not that I think I ever will," you added bitterly. "It's too late for me."

"No. I don't believe that." The boy was almost choked up, watching you with the most pained expression.

"It's that relentless optimism that left you without the book in the first place."

"I'm not being optimistic, I'm being realistic. Come with us, we could help you."

"Look, you're sweet and all, but don't mistake me thinking you're hot for me liking you."

He raised an eyebrow and gave you another of those irresistible grins like he had when he first swiped the book. "At least you think I'm hot."

You laughed, genuinely, and it startled you a little. "Stop being so smug and get over here before your mates get impatient."

He was on you in seconds. All the despondency of the conversation evaporated in the sudden heat between you as he dragged you into his lap. You moved with agility, knees either side of his waist and feet between his knees, and twisted your hand into his hair to hold yourself close. He moaned into the kiss and clamped his hands firmly round your waist. Still tasted like bergamot. You savoured him, drank him in, then decided to get a little experimental. Letting go of his hair, you took both hands to loosen his tie and undo the top couple of shirt buttons. The second his skin was exposed, you ducked down and worked a blossoming bruise into that perfect neck. To your delight, he tilted his head back to grant you further access. Once you considered him suitably marked, you trailed kisses up towards his jaw, and he brought his head back down to catch your lips with his. The hands on your waist moved in opposite directions: one up and around your back, the other down over your hip, lower and lower. You shuddered in excitement, but the movement jolted his teeth a little too hard against your lower lip and made you jump.

"Sorry!" he whispered, already deep voice made even huskier by desire and shortness of breath. "Are you…?"

"I'm fine," you reassured him, "but maybe it's a good time to call it quits while we still can."

You disentangled from one another, the tension of unresolved intimacy thick in the air that grew between you as you moved apart.

"You know," he began without making eye contact, "the offer still stands. We could make it work."

"I know. But no, we couldn't." Part of you desperately wished it weren't the case, but you understood deep down that you could never return to his world. You suspected he knew it too. He began to move away. "Wait, what about the book?"

The smile he gave you lacked any of the electricity it usually did, but still had the same depth of feeling. "Keep it. Consider it proof that trust can get you something." He was almost at the edge of the undercroft now, almost out of sight.

"Wait!" you called again, louder this time. Inwardly, you cringed at how needy you must have sounded.

"If you don't want me to go, just say so." That spark was back in his smirk.

"No, I just… I still don't know your name."

"Lockwood. Can I ask for yours?"

You smiled softly, trying so hard to keep up the confident snarky persona but feeling it crumble by the second in the face of his utter sincerity. "Maybe next time, darling." And then he was gone.

—

The letterbox of 35 Portland Row rattled. That was odd. The postman had already been by today. Lockwood pushed himself wearily out of his armchair and made his way into the hallway. On the mat was a single scrap of folded paper. Frowning, he picked it up. The handwriting was unfamiliar, messy with haste.

'Behind the wall'.

There was nobody at all on the street, no matter which way he looked. Whoever had delivered the note had made a point not to stick around. Tucked behind a small bush in the front garden, leaning against the wall as promised, so well concealed nobody could possibly know it was there without being told to look, was a rectangular block wrapped in brown paper. Tucked in the front was another scrap of the same paper, with the same handwriting.

'Lockwood, darling. Proof trust goes both ways. Until we meet again, (name) x'

Blinking back tears, Lockwood peeled back the paper with shaky hands. Hands that were holding the book.

#lockwood & co x reader #anthony lockwood x reader #fem!reader #anthony lockwood #lockwood & co fanfic #lockwood and co #renew lockwood and co

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