#I made these yesterday and those two still smudged

[running-in-the-dark]

I got a lot of new ink recently (20 samples and 4 bottles), so here's all of them because I think they're pretty 😌

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[3:22 pm] 

(cw: f!reader, pregnant reader)

3 months. That's it. 3 months or about 91 days until dad!Jaehyun would meet his baby girl and time was flying by so quickly. It felt like yesterday he was staring at the two lines on a pregnancy test and feeling faint. It felt like just yesterday he was looking at an ultrasound with a tiny smudge and being told it was the baby.

All these firsts flew by so fast and he was taking it in stride, barely registering how much could change in just a few weeks. Just a few months ago he was crying listening to his baby girl's first heart beat. Just a few months ago he was twirling you around after cutting into a pink cake, surrounded by your loved ones.

He rarely got time to reflect on how fast everything had been changing, but today was one of those days where the hours ticked by slowly. A day where you had both been too lazy to even get dressed fully, too lazy to be out of bed for longer than 10 minutes, and lazy enough to sleep the whole day. Okay, maybe that last one was just you, but Jaehyun wasn't going to argue since you were growing another life inside you.

The TV was playing some random episode of a random show you had put on a couple hours ago. His eyes moved from the screen to your curled up form and he smiled.

Your hair was pulled up into a messy bun, mussed from sleep and laying around. The shirt you were wearing was one of his from years ago, a thin cotton material with holes on the hem that he'd been wanting to throw away for years, but became one of your go to shirts around the house. It was "so soft and comfy" you had claimed, "the baby likes it." It made Jaehyun chuckle every time. Your legs were bare and underwear you had once claimed he would never seen because he "would lose all attraction for you" covered you.

Marriage had changed a lot for the both of you in the best ways. The shirt he hated had become your favorite, a source of comfort. The underwear you hated, had strangely become his favorites on you. Something about you being comfortable enough to share something that once brought you shame warmed his heart.

On any other lazy day 7 months ago, or even longer he knows he'd say and think the same thing, but something about looking at you now felt different, almost majestic. The sun was streaming through the sheer white curtains and illuminating you like you were some kind of goddess. It couldn't be just the sunlight, there was something else about you. Maybe it was a new vibrancy in your skin or the rosiness that had become a permanent fixture on your face.

Jaehyun looked at you and felt his eyes turn into hearts. You were breathtaking without even doing anything. He must have done something really great in his past life, like saving an orphanage from a fire to be blessed with the sight of such a divine being. A goddess just inches away from him and his wife.

Love wasn't even an emotion strong enough to describe how he was feeling. Yes, of course he loved you, but if you mixed love with cherishing you, adoration, besotted you, infatuation, and being enamored by you, maybe that would get closer to how he let for you.

You stirred and he stilled, his breath caught in his throat. You blinked your eyes open with the most adorable groggy face ever and in that moment he prayed that your daughter would come out looking just like you. Another human that looked like you for him to dedicate his life to.

You stretched your arms up, your bump arching into the air, before you settled with a sigh, "why are you staring at me?"

"Because I love you."

You snorted, pushing his face away with a gentle hand, "weirdo."

Jaehyun laughed, turning his face to press a kiss to your palm, "you love it."

"Something more than that," you hum, turning your attention back to the screen with your free hand resting on your bump.

[junkiespromise]

superstar | ms47

request: can "superstar" be about mick? y/n is a very supportive girlfriend and she cheers for him and goes to every race but she's not famous, she's a "pretty normal" person compared to him, so his fans don't really understand what he sees in her?

summary: where two young kids fall in love but the world one of them is involved in seems to be against their happiness.

warnings: angst yeah and a bit of relationship doubts.

notes: the second story and first request of the eras masterlist is finally here! i hope ypu guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writting it, also it was my first social media au, and remember that requests are still opened!

masterlist

Mick’s life had always been filled with the thrilling sound of car engines and the adrenaline that comes with excessive speed. His father being probably the most famous Formula One driver in history was perhaps the reason why he was so interested and enamored by the sport, making him always wonder if his father was not who he was, would he even be this obsessed with it, or would he want to be a football player or a pianist.

So he made his way through the motorsport world, karts like any kid and then a formula three and two champion until he achieved the highest category and just like his father he became a Formula One driver but he realized that even now when he had finally achieved everything he had dreamed of, he felt, lonely.

Even when he stepped inside the most rapid vehicles in history, where he thought he would feel the most complete, his heart told him that something was missing, to make it alright, to put it all in place. He didn’t know what it was but his soul ached for it, he longed for a deeper connection, someone who would see him for who he truly was and understand his mind and soul.

So when he crossed paths with Y/N, one Sunday evening back home in Germany those lingering feelings disappeared, he knew she was the one.

Mick remembers the day they met as if it was yesterday, he remembered her clothes and could describe in a detailed way how her hair was wrapped in a hair band forming a low ponytail that rested on her shoulder.

He was wearing some long-sleeved shirt that was years old and a pair of dark blue jeans tightened with a belt that probably belonged to his father, considering the damaged black leather of it.

That cold evening he and his sister decided to go out for a coffee, and after an insisting chat with Gina, he decided to go. He was back home, finally, after a never stopping routine of constant travel he had some time for his own, and like every year he went to Germany, with his family. So that day they decided on a small café that not many people frequented.

Mick had asked for a cappuccino and Gina for a macchiato, his order was the first one they called but just as he was stepping towards the girl who was handing it to him, exactly like in a rom-com his sister made him watch, he felt a coldness hit his chest, in a second his white long-sleeved shirt was splashed in brown iced coffee.

A wave of apologies said by a sweet voice filled his ears and that was the moment he finally looked at the girl who had accidentally thrown her coffee onto his shirt.

—Don't worry too much, I'm lucky it was an iced one—He said, slightly chuckling, placing his hand on her wrists, stopping her from smudging it more. Now his mind wondered why she was even ordering it when outside you could see slight traces of snow.

Their eyes finally met, for the first time, before, she was too busy trying to get rid of the stain on his shirt to pay attention to the person she was cleaning it off of. Embarrassed by the situation with her cheeks flushed in a light pink that went all the way up to her ears she stopped for a moment the apologies.

They told each other their names and rapidly started talking, as if faith had brought them together and made them meet like that. In the back, Gina laughed at the poor flirting attempts of her brother who had also completely forgotten about their arranged siblings' coffee date.

And for months after that, they were friends, each too afraid to confess the feelings they had, until finally, one night, when he had traveled to her hometown as a surprise Mick tried to in the most rom-comish way he could, confess his feelings.

Afraid about not hearing an answer to his confession, all kinds of thoughts run through his mind, maybe he had read the signals wrongly and she just wanted to be friends.

But for his luck, the thoughts were interrupted by a pair of lips clinging onto his.

Now, months into their relationship he knew that she was that missing piece he had looked for all along. He raced in the fastest cars in the world yet he felt more adrenaline when he looked at her, his nervousness when he started a race did not compare to that of placing his eyes on hers. And his worries faded to nothing when he looked at her

But people started talking, they always did, and at first, not caring was so easy, in the end, a relationship with a superstar who has thousands of fans all around the world was hard for everyone who was in one, except that to Y/N, his fans seemed harsher on the critics.

They speculated about her motives, if it was for some quick fame or the money he could bring to your home or even the connections she could get and that after catching them she would rapidly leave him, both of them knew the truth, they loved each other and nothing could stop them from it but sometimes it felt like they could.

Mick knew he shouldn't doubt their relationship but he could not stop his mind from wandering if she truly loved him, he knew he loved her but what if it was not like that to her, what if they were right.

The doubts started to get to his head, the side comments, the replies to any post he made about her or she made about him, they, at a point, became to much, so the distancing started between them, slowly, but not slow enough for her to not notice.

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, lilymhe, yourbestfriend and 537 others

yourusername half of my weekend dump !

view all 372 comments

sarahluvs47 only here for the mick content like all of us.

formulaleclerc this the girl mick is dating, why? lol

wagsl0ver no one know really, he could

truly do much better

yourbestfriend you look so hot, how do you do it, stop

As the sun began to set in the Saudi Arabia grand prix circuit, everyone's faces filled with excitement, the voices high pitched with enthusiasm. She stood with her hands on the metal railings that separated the crowd from the track.

Although excitement filled the air, Y/N's heart ached. She loved Mick, so much, his love completed her, but people commented on it, on a love that was so pure it seemed almost indestructible, and for a moment she was so foolish she believed that, that their love would be forever, even with all the comments from the outside, their own little world would stay the same.

She knew, the second Mick had told her he was a driver, a formula one driver, that it would be hard to maintain a relationship with a superstar like him. But she was willing to try, even if it meant that the moment she stepped out into the world as Mick Schumacher's girlfriend, that her way of living would not be the same and that that quiet life she liked to have would not be possible, at least for the time they dated. And for him, she was willing to try.

Taking a deep breath in, she locked her phone, reading through the dozens of messages and comments people left her was exhausting and she did not understand the why of them, she hadn't done anything to anyone, she was aware of the ruthlessness of the internet but she had never experienced it first hand.

The comments had been recently getting to her head and she knew they had gotten to Mick's too. Lately he had been more distant, quieter also, and she didn't know what to do about it, talk would be the obvious thing but she avoided serious talks at all costs, she wasn't good at it and her eyes got all watery when she made eye contact with the one she was talking too. But, right now, it seemed like the only thing she could do, force him to chat with her.

…

The wheels on the car were barely been held together, after forty two laps with them and fifty seven laps total, the race was coming to an end and for the first time, Mick, was finally going to place his feet in the podium, second place, just milliseconds behind the blue car numbered "one".

Gina and Corinna sat by her side, the three of them on the verge of tears. The cameras pointed at their faces and then back at the race, she wouldn't celebrate yet, to her it was bad luck. Her heart accelerated at the same pace as the cars passing on the screen in front of her, one more lap and it was his.

The checkered flag appeared in the air, finally it had come to an end, the moment the car passed the checkered flag, the three women and the entire team got up, at the same time, screaming and hugging each other. Now they waited for him to arrive and congratulate him.

Her eyes placed on his, she knew that behind that helmet, a pair of blue eyes were staring back. She smiled when he finally ran towards his team to hug them, the flashing of cameras and screams filled her ears but as soon as he reached out for her and his arms wrapped around her, her head on his chest, his helmet still on, it felt as if they were the last people on earth, just them.

It was celebration day for Mick Schumacher, after that eventful race and his first podium he could finally celebrate it, with his friends and his team, even part of his family and of course, his girlfriend who had been with him for months now and was one of his biggest supporters.

He had changed already after a shower, into a pair of light washed jeans and a navy blue shirt. Mick looked at himself in the bathroom mirror one last time, he didn't need to look great but in the end it was a celebration for him so he had to be presentable at least. After a few minutes in the bathroom he finally came out to go look for his girl, who he thought was going to go with him.

He was surprised to find his girlfriend facing towards the TV, sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing a matching black and light pink sweats set he had gotten her one time after she had told him she had liked it. Her phone facing down by her side and her hands where, he supposed, resting on her face, covering it.

— Hey, what's wrong? Are you not coming? — He sat by her side, putting his arm around her, fingers softly twisting her hair between them.

— We have to talk Mick, I, I can't stand this anymore — Her voice cracked at the end, even if she tried to hide it, he knew it had.

— What? Y/N, look at me, what is going on? — His hands grabbed her face now, his blue eyes scanning over her features, she was god damn gorgeous.

— Those comments, you know, they keep saying that I'm only with you because of your connections and shit, and you have been so distant lately I just — She looked in his eyes, not for long before she drifted them away from him and started to look at different things that seemed now, extremely interesting. Not the best at keeping eye contact especially in moments like those.

Mick immediately reacted back with the intention of talking back, refusing to hear her re-call the comments but Y/N talked before.

— I just don't want that to destroy us and you to think that I'm looking for fame, I just love you so much, and you've been so great to me so you suddenly distancing yourself from me is, I, please don't hear them —

His heart broke when he heard her shut down cries and saw her tear stained face. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and his hands grabbed her head softly and hid it against his chest, immediately feeling a wetness on his shirt, her tears.

A wave of sorries emitted in a low flooded her ears his nose against her head whispering them closely.

— I, you were right, I did listen to some comments, but I doubted myself and if I would be able to have a true relationship, and with you after today I know I have it. — Y/N felt his smile as he talked just by hearing the way he said the words. — When mom talked to me after the race she told me that you were the one and that you looked at me the same way she looks at dad —

The blond haired boy smiled as soon as he felt the smile of her girlfriend on his chest.

With his right hand, the one which he was not holding her with, he cleaned her tears from her face — I love you, so much I can barely hold it inside of myself, okay? You are the best girl someone could ever ask for. — She said it back after that and he repeated it a few times before falling quiet and for a few minutes they stayed like that, her arms wrapped around his chest and her head on his chest, one of his hands on her back and the other on her hair softly caressing it.

When they separated her hands went to her cheeks to wipe away the tears she had, now drying. — So, you're staying? — He asked, she simply shook her head — I'll go get ready, i have the cutest outfit planned —

She got up and walked to the bathroom quickly — You had an outfit planned without even knowing if I would get on the podium? — he asked, laying down on the bed — Of course! I felt it in my heart, you know, that you were going to be up there. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to jinx it, so I kept it to myself. — Mick smiled, looking at the ceiling, she had felt in her heart that he would be on the podium, how was he supposed to act after knowing that.

— Okay, I'm ready, let's go — She appeared on the room again, wearing a silk dress, black fishnets and a pair of black mary janes on her feet, her hair slightly wet and her eyes painted with a sharp eyeliner.

— You look, great, gorgeous actually — He walked up to her, admiring the way she looked, when he was finally in front of her he kissed her, with love and pureness.

To Mick, Y/N was his superstar and he knew she was hers too.

mickschumacher

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mickschumacher celebrating P2 for the first time and some pics with her.

comments on this post where limited

yourusername i love you <3

gina_schumacher truly proud of you !

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[xunandran]

Fuck it Friday (Firepilot Edition)

This episode was so good! But of course, I gotta make it nasty, lol! I would have been done, but I actually had to go back to work for 4 more hours after the episode was over, so I'm still working on the full fic, but have some Firepilot in honor of 07e06!

Full fic in the link! Not as nasty as I was going for, but still sweet!

“Mmmph.”

The enthusiastic crash of Evan’s lips against his is bewildering and intoxicating. He presses into the other man’s rough lips, crashing and tasting. He’s trying to be careful, trying to avoid imprinting too much of the fire’s afterthoughts into Evan’s clothes and skin. Evan is a beast though, the very definition of what he’d called him, and he’s ravenous. 

When they pull away, Tommy’s breathless, nearly dazed. This wasn’t “go looking for hot chicks” Evan or even “I don’t know what I’m ready for” Evan. Tommy stares at Evan’s resolute blue eyes, twinking with so much devious glee that he feels inexperienced and small. Evan’s face is smeared with soot, his lips are plump, pink, and Tommy just wants to kiss him again. 

Evan’s pulling him by the hand though, pulling him through the hospital’s halls toward Chimney’s room. “Evan. Your face.” But the other man doesn’t listen. He barrels forward singularly. Tommy might have been late, but he was going to be there. 

They’re out of breath by the time they reach the press. Whether that’s from the mad dash, the fire, or Evan’s kiss, Tommy doesn’t know. Evan turns and places his hands on Tommy’s scorched turnout jacket. “They’re man and wife. They’ve kissed the bride and groom. Wish them well, but be quick.”

“Why?” Tommy asks, confused.

Evan smirks, and it spikes through every nerve in Tommy’s exhausted body. “Because I really need to get those off of you… right now.”

“I-uh-Eva…” 

He doesn’t get to finish as Evan pulls him into the hospital room. “Hey! Look who almost made it!” 

The crowd turns to them, and Tommy smiles, soot stained and exhausted. “Congratulations, you two! I’m sorry I missed the ceremony!” 

Chimney nods and smiles. “Thanks Tommy! Looks like you two were… busy.”

Tommy’s honestly thankful for the grime to cover the blush, but Evan’s beaming, and he looks so handsome, soot smudged and all. 

Evan scoots through the crowd to hug his sister and Chimney, and Tommy does his best to make pleasantries without spreading the ash on his clothes. To his left, he hears Evan and Eddie talking, and then they hug, a great tight thing that suggests that maybe everything he might have assumed from yesterday was just a misinterpretation.  

As Evan takes his hand to pull them out of the door, Tommy hears Evan’s mother. “Where are you going?”

Evan stops and looks, first to Maddie, who smiles and nods, then to Eddie, who lightly shakes his head, almost as if he knows Evan’s thoughts better than the other man does. Finally, he looks back at Tommy and smiles before rounding on his parents. “I’m taking my date home to help him get cleaned up.” He doesn’t wait for their response. He pulls Tommy from the cramped hospital room and back down the hall. 

“Evan.” Tommy stops the other man’s frantic pace by digging in. Advantages to having size and muscle mass on your partner. Evan turns to him, smile dopey and giddy, but faltering slightly. “Are you okay?”

Evan scrubs at his mouth, and Tommy swears it just digs the grime in further. Tommy can hear the other man’s nervous swallow. “I-I just did that, huh?”

Tommy scoffs, but it’s a friendly sound. His eyes crinkle with warm affection, and his nose creases with a smile that is apparently enough to calm Evan, because the megawatt smile returns, teeth and sunshine. “You just did that. I hope you don’t feel like I-”

“No,” Evan interrupts, resolute. “I said you were my date today. You’re my date today.” He takes Tommy’s fingers in his, and the older man lightly thumbs along their joined digits. 

“Okay.”

Tommy watches in real time as Evan’s confidence returns. The man that had just been shaken from coming out to his entire world squared up and cockily slid closer. Tommy liked this Evan. No, that was accurate. He liked Evan - Neurotic, infodumping, nervous, and now cocksure, he liked them all.

“You wouldn’t think less of me if I put out on the first date, would you?” Evan’s words ghost between kisses. The kisses are warm and sweet, but Evan’s gaze and the way it rakes over him is anything but sweet. 

“I mean,” Tommy shrugs, lips in a tight smirk. “This isn’t our first date, so your virtue’s intact.”

Evan’s fingers slide into Tommy’s hair and lightly pull at the scalp. He kisses him again, fevered and needing. Tommy groans as Evan’s nails lightly rake against the back of his neck. “Let’s take care of that, shall we?” 

Fucking hell, Evan. How was he supposed to resist an invitation like that?

Tommy lets Evan lead him to his jeep. He’s sore. He’s dirty. He’s exhausted. In all honesty, he doesn’t know how high Evan’s expectations are. He only hopes that the other man is understanding. They drive in comfortable silence to Harbor so Tommy can stow his kit and gather his things. Along the way, Evan takes Tommy’s hand and thumbs along the knuckles. Tommy watches him drive, cast in nothing but the slow strobe of streetlights to illuminate him. The lights pull shadows along his strong jaw, his nose, his adam’s apple. Evan catches him looking more than once, but Tommy doesn’t care.

[oreosmama]

April Showers (Benny Watts x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: All dolled up and ready to confess, you await a certain chess champion’s visit as a thunderstorm rages outside. But the longer your phone call stretches on, the closer you realize he may be to feeling the same about you.

A/N: long time no see y’all. So as it turns out, life is a disaster. funny how that works. anyways, here’s some benny watts bc he’s hot. hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2075

Outside, the rain poured enough to drown the city life. People fled indoors, hair and clothing drenched, umbrellas shivering with droplets. Few taxis were roaming the streets, save for those catching the poor, wandering souls whose homes were nowhere near the concrete jungle in which they trudged.

You curled your finger tighter around the cord of your telephone. A small grin began to tease at your lips, pestering at the corners and daring to smudge upon your front teeth the pale pink lipstick you wore. 

Had you gone anywhere today? You couldn’t quite remember. And yet, there you were, sitting in your third-floor apartment, draped in your nicest day dress, a little black number that flashed your décolleté, and nothing more. 

You hated the dress—despised it, in fact. The broadcloth fabric tickled at every seam, the skirt, even on a day with a light breeze, always wanted to leave little to the imagination, and you didn’t own a single pair of flats that complemented well, despite its impartial color. 

But he liked it. 

You’d been wearing it when you both first met.

Your eyes gleam as you murmur into the telephone, still watching the road in front of your apartment. Your window has grown fogged, streaks of raindrops smearing here and there, and you lean further against the sill. The bruised clouds show no signs of stopping.

Like it was yesterday, you remembered every second of it; the scent of musk, of leather and aftershave and—was that cinnamon?—flooding your senses after colliding with a solid figure. Two hands had grasped your shoulders in effort to steady you, and—God—how you couldn’t forget the feeling of his fingertips against your bare skin.

Soft. That’s what you admired most about him. Despite his rough exterior and deliberate personality, he was unpredictably, endearingly soft. You curled your head closer to the phone, cupping it against your face as though his words were a caress upon your cheek. A breathless laugh escaped you. “Is that right?”

‘Are you all right?’ That day, he’d dipped his head to meet your gaze after you stumbled from the impact, and shaded eyes scanned yours beneath the wide brim of a cowboy hat. Your breath hitched.

Brown, but not one of those plain browns that was easily forgettable; these were one of those browns that would haunt you for days, the ones you could imagine wandering all over you, making you feel that jittery, hot anxiousness that simultaneously makes you want to tighten your clothes around yourself or strip them off altogether. You had let yourself get lost in them for longer than what was socially acceptable, especially with a stranger. 

But for that time, all you could imagine was diving into them a little longer, getting a little closer to see if they were really that dark, deep umber they seemed to be, or if it was just the shadow of his hat. 

‘I’m fine,’ you’d reassured with a tight smile, though it was the growing flush to your cheeks that made you so tense rather than frustration with the collision. It was warm, too warm, and, even worse, it was embarrassing to become so flustered so easily. 

A corner of his mouth had lifted, and his hands retreated from your shoulders. ‘Sorry about that. I should’ve paid more attention.’

The more you pored over the interaction, and every interaction following that, the more you noticed it at every fleck of his words—the hint of a Southern accent. During the day, it slipped past the ears without notice, but when it came to later hours and earlier mornings, it was thick and heavy off his tongue. Often, his voice would lower an octave. A dangerous gruffness would hang on his every word, and a tightness in his jaw kept his words drawled. 

‘Ah, uh, me too.’ You’d shrugged casually, hoping that in some way it might disguise the terrible tremble of your hands. ‘Just been looking for the mirror.’ You gestured down at the black dress your friend had forced you to try on, silently cursing at the way it wrinkled in all the wrong places and hung loose in others. Of course, you remembered thinking to yourself that day, of all the times you were to run into an attractive boy—no, attractive man, it had to be this moment, donned in the most uncomfortable frock imaginable. 

Slowly, his gaze followed the gesture. A careful, brown scan trailed from the bare skin at your collar bone, following the buttoned path down to the fabric pinched at your waist, and finished at the rippling skirt at your knees. His lips twitched, and for one unbearable moment, he was utterly silent. 

All you could think about was how stupid it had been for you to draw more attention to yourself, as if he couldn’t already see the sweating beading at your forehead, or the heartbeat in your throat. This man was sucking the air from your lungs, leaving you breathless and fidgety and nervous and hyper and taut all at the same time. A terrible mixture. And the one thing you had left to do was damn every haphazard, insubstantial interaction you’d ever had with handsome males that had left you so inadequate for this situation. 

Then his gaze flicked up to you, somewhat darker as he tipped his hat towards you and smirked, a gentle curl of his lips, before clearing his throat. ‘I like it. It looks beautiful on you, Miss…?’

His question had hung in the air, marinating until you could bring yourself back down to reality with a harsh bite on your tongue. ‘YN. YLN,’ you mumbled. ‘A-and you are?’

‘Benny. Watts.’

“Benny Watts, don’t you dare tell me that you’re only in this city for a chess tournament.” You shook your head, an unabashed grin overwhelming your face when he chuckled from the other end. “I did my research, you know.”

“Oh yeah, princess? What’d you find?” There was shuffling from his end, and you heard what must have been jangling coins, but dismissed it.

“The only tournament here is for the state title.”

“Yeah?”

“So you’re telling me that the US Champion wants to play chess against forty-year-olds with nothing better to do, and university students?”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m strapped for cash.”

You curled further into the sofa, hugging the telephone base closer to your chest and fiddling with the rotary dial. “Bullshit.”

He’d told you he was a chess player that day, and a good one at that. Said he’d travel all over the country to play, sometimes the world. You almost didn’t believe it, until he’d led you over to the magazine rack and pulled the latest edition of Chess Review. 

‘Here,’ he probed the front pocket of his trench coat, revealing a wallet. ‘You should keep it.’ Wordlessly, he passed a few bills to the cashier near the door. ‘And the dress.’

‘No, you shouldn’t just-’

He flashed you a smile and tipped his hat, already halfway out the door. ‘I already did, princess.’ Then he winked. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll meet again.’

“Well, princess, I do so love to be the best in your eyes, but I have to say there are some strong up-and-comers nowadays.”

“Same excuse you used last time.”

“Damn,” he whistled, letting out a sigh. “Can’t slip anything past you, can I?”

But he had, once. Just once.

‘Well,’ your friend had appeared beside you after he slipped out of the department store, causing you to flinch. ‘Now we know the dress works.’

You’d huffed, trying to summon the effort to throw her a glare, but the rapid thumping of your heart had been making any and all anger difficult. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’

‘Well damn,’ she smiled slyly and shook her head with disbelief, ‘you should look for me a lot more often.’

And as the pair of you watched him walk away, you’d spotted a small tuft of blond hair peeking out between the brim of his hat and the collar of his leather trench coat, and cursed at how well it all took your breath away. You had to agree with her. 

“Not anymore. You know I love to hear about your wins, Benny, but not like this.”

“Aw, you flatter me.” You could imagine the way he was fiddling with his hat at this point, dragging a finger across the brim or perhaps readjusting it altogether. “Here I thought you were getting tired of my chess talk.”

“I wouldn’t have stayed on the call if I was. Plus, you get all cute after you’ve won a game.”

On the other end of the line, Benny scoffed incredulously. “Cute? Did you just say cute?”

You leaned your head back, biting your lip. “Yeah, you know, it’s adorable the way you get all excited when they give up.”

“Adorable? Excited?”

“Yep.”

“...You’ve never seen me play a single game, have you?”

Finally, he was back in town. He’d called and told you ahead of time that he was headed over from New York; that he’d signed up for a tournament and had arranged to stay at a local hotel, and that he was wondering if you could meet up somewhere. 

Somewhere.

Meet up.

Hotel.

As if he hadn’t been planning on staying in your apartment anyway. As if the plan was to share a couple drinks and a couple laughs, the way you’d done it so many times before. As if the second before last phone call you’d had with him hadn’t ended with him almost telling you he loved you—just before he broke himself off with a stutter and mumbled something about having to hang up. 

And now he was coming here. 

The conversation had fallen into a natural lull, and it was then you took note of how painfully hot your cheeks were despite the cold weather exuding from your window. Your fingertips were frozen, you realized, as you gnawed on your thumbnail. 

“Benny, I…” You dug your nails into your arm, eyes clenched shut. “I really miss you.”

His breath hitched.

The silence grew suffocating. 

Your heart thumped painfully, and the dress began to itch. 

Then he exhaled. “I miss you too.” He shuffled on the other end. “So fucking much, princess. Look out your window.”

“What?”

Your gaze darted outside. The sun was just setting, and the sky had grown more black during your call. The lone street lamp shining into the phone booth was the only reason you could see him. 

He was supposed to be waiting for a cab at the university—that’s what he’d told you, at least. 

Instead, in the foggy glass box, he raised his hand, fingers flashing in a short wave. 

“Benny.”

“I couldn’t wait.”

When your form disappeared from the window, he hung up. When you raced down the stairs of your apartment complex, he abandoned the phone booth. 

And when you burst through the front doors, he opened his arms, grunting as you collided with his chest, chuckling as the motion flung the damp hat from his head. 

“Now who’s excited?” he mumbled into your hair.

He was completely soaked from what must have been a two-hour walk through a thunderstorm. The damp sleeves of his leather coat began seeping through the dress fabric at your waist. Droplets from his hair dripped onto your cheek. 

Then he pulled away, tilted up your head with a lone hand on your jaw, and crashed his frozen lips against yours, as though trying to absorb whatever warmth you would give him. God, even his ring chilled you to the bone.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to mind. Not as you drew him up the stairs, back into your apartment. Not as you both shed layers upon layers, peeling back whatever separated the two of you, until it was solely skin on skin and nothing more. 

And when the steam of the shower obscured your view of him, he sought you out on his own, searching for you and curling himself around you, planting his lips against your throat as his fingers secured the softness of your hips. 

“Princess?” he mumbled into your skin, sweet honey dripping off his accent and soaking into your skin. 

“Hmm?” Your fingers danced along his scalp as you dragged them through the blond tufts, suds floating down the drain. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[skywarpie]

Hi! For the touch starved prompts, could you maybe do "oh, sweetheart- come here” and "please, never apologise for wanting to be loved” for gn!reader/copia?

Send me a prompt

Tw: depression and self loathing;

Copia is no stranger to heartbreak. It's one of the first lessons he ever learned. Don't put all your faith into someone, namely, because they will ultimately let you down. It's something that you've watched him struggle with time and time again. He wants to trust people to be able to adore them, but ultimately, they all leave eventually and he's left with the same result.

Loneliness.

Typically, you're good at gauging his moods, but today is off. You can't put your finger on it, but something is just wrong. He's too quiet. Granted, the two of you haven't seen each other since breakfast, but still, he's typically made at least one appearance by now.

You understood that being promoted to Cardinal was a change for him, and Copia has never handled change well. He's a creature of habit that follows the same schedule every day. Even on days off. But - he hasn't participated in that schedule today, and it makes lead settle in your belly.

You sit aside your work, deciding that you've done enough of it for the time being. The halls are quieter than usual as you make your way down them, but it is a Monday, and typically, half of the church is sleeping off some form of hangover. So it's not too out of place.

The first place you check is his office. A quick inspection shows he's not there and from the looks of it, hasn't been since yesterday. Now, you truly begin to panic. Despite being unhappy with the position, Copia always makes sure to tend to the work given to him, even if it is more than should be ethically legal.

You make a hasty exit and begin speed walking to his room. Those had been upgraded as well, although his room was still sad. At least in your view. Surely, the upper clergy could splurge for a bedframe. Everyone else had one, but Copia -- Copia just seemed to accept things as they were. That this was his lot in life, the shit end of the stick and whatever he was given he should be grateful for.

"Copia?" Your voice is hesitant as you unlock his door with your spare key.

The room is dark and the air thick with what can only be described as misery.

"Copia?" You repeat.

When you do find him, it feels like time stops.

He's sitting, curled in on himself, hands in his hair as he rocks back and force on the floor in a pathetic attempt to soothe himself.

You waste no time in running to him, crouching in front of him and looking at him with such worry, it makes you nauseous. "Copia," you pry his hands from his head, and it's then that you see he's been crying. A lot. His eye makeup is smudged beyond belief and his painted upper lip is essentially bare. "What's wrong?"

He yanks his hands from your grasp with such force that it leaves you momentarily stunned. He tucks them under his arms, refusing to look at you.

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. "This was stupid. I'm stupid." It's said with such hollowness that you wonder how long he's felt like this.

"You're not stupid." You reach a hand out to touch his cheek. "Sweetie, what happened?" You already have an idea, but you'll let him tell you.

"I thought -- " you watch as his lower lip trembles. "I thought if I agreed to this position, then Imperator would -- I thought she would." He's on the verge of a panic attack. You can see it by the way he shakes. "But there's so much paperwork and stress, and it's so hard to stay focused and -- what -- what did I do to make her hate me so much? I've apologized for everything and --"

You pull him into a tight hug as the flood gates finally break, and he sobs uncontrollably, face buried in your chest. "Oh sweetheart -- come here." You pull him closer until you're practically cradling him. "Please never apologize for wanting to be loved." The fact you even have to say this at all makes your blood boil. What kind of fucking mother would treat her own child this way?

You sit there on the floor, holding him until his tears dry and he calms. You want to say this is a one time thing, but it's happened before, it will most certainly happen again.

[youstopmyheartfrom50feets]

What if you did a Remus ending and a James ending?👀

Because I don’t think I can choose! I already regret voting for Remus but I know that I would’ve also regretted voting for James.

It’s impossible to decide between the two😭

Ikrrr!!! It is difficult to choose😭😭

Anyways so, the votes have chosen Remus and I personally don't like the second chance trope but since you're the first person to request me a fic on Tumblr, I had to do it. So this one is for you 🫶🫶

Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have (alternative ending)

Part 1: The Other Women

Part 2: Violets for Roses

A/n: I am a year late💀💀 I'm sorry, I had been really busy with my school work and literally had no time to write but now I am on a vacation and I can continue writing 😋

Angst/Fluff.

Trigger warnings:- Cheating/infidelity, slight swearing, second chances

3rd Person POV

The sunrays coming through the window were pricking her eyes. She tried covering them with the pillow but that didn't help with the pain in her eyes.

Heaving a deep sigh, she got up from the bed. That's when she noticed that James was still laying beside her. Before her lips could curve up in a smile, the memories of last night came flooding back to her.

"Lily! Shit! I'm close!"

Those words kept on echoing in her ears. She went inside the bathroom to freshen up but stopped on her tracks when she saw her reflection in the full body mirror at the corner of her room.

Just a few hours ago she looked at a perfect woman with a perfect body, perfect hair and perfect makeup. All fancied-up for her husband.

But now, now she looks at a disheveled face with dark circles under her eyes which were intensified with the smudged mascara. Her eyes were small and puffy from the tears that her pillow absorbed. The white of her eyes still had strands of red in them. Her face was empty of any emotions, the glow that she once had, was gone. She looked exhausted as if she hasn't been able to sleep for centuries.

She let out a silent sigh, shaking her head she went in the bathroom to take a shower. The water felt like bullets entering her body but it didn't hurt. She was desperately trying to wash away the memories of last night but she couldn't. She wanted to crawl back into her bubble but she couldn't. She blamed herself and that damn bubble for the position she is in today.

Only if she had not created the bubble back then, she would've noticed the stolen glances, her husband and her twin shared during the family gatherings.

She cursed her self for being so blind, for falling in love with the man who was in love with her sister.

After half an hour later, she came out of the bathroom, dried herself, put on some light makeup and looked at herself in the mirror. She felt pity for the women in the mirror.

She felt the tears prick her eyes but she somehow controlled them and walked downstairs towards the kitchen.

It was a Sunday morning and she was pretty sure James wouldn't wake up anytime soon because of the amount of liquor he had consumed yesterday, so she didn't bother to prepare a breakfast.

She prepared herself a bowl of cereal and started munching on them.

There were whirlpool of emotions wrecking havoc in her brain. She had tried her best to ignore all the concerned voices of her well wishers, telling her about James' infedeility.

She could clearly hear Remus warning her about the possible affair. At the time she didn't pay any attention to his words and now those very words were pricking her throat making their way down to her heart.

Shaking her head and wiping a single tear that sprung out of her eye, she started doing the dishes when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She didn't expect James to wakeup so quickly.

He was in a pair of new boxers, his hair was disheveled and he looked like he came back from death.

"Morning, what's for breakfast?" James asked in a groggy morning voice.

"What do you want, haven't made anything yet."

"Uh, I'll have pancakes and Sirius would probably have bacons and eggs." James let her know his preference.

"Sirius?" She asked him a bit confused.

"Yeah, it's Sunday love, he always has his breakfast with us on Sundays." James reminded her.

She just nodded at him and started preparing the breakfast demanded. She couldn't believe how laid-back he was acting as if he wasn't going behind his wife's back with her sister. How easily he called her 'love' as if he didn't whisper the wrong name last night.

She felt animated, machine-like, controlled by a master. A machine which had no feelings or opinions of her own. Any other woman would confront her husband the very first thing in the morning but she felt like she didn't have the right to do so, the right to question James.

It was physically sickening to think about how many times had he come home after sleeping with her and pretended as if nothing had happen, how many times he must have slept with her after sleeping with her own sister.

She couldn't handle it anymore. The emotions were too overwhelming. She could feel the pressure slowly building in her chest. It felt like she would explode if she didn't confront James. She knew there would be consequences, James didn't do well with confrontations but she was ready to risk it.

She cursed her self for being so blind, for falling in love with the man who was in love with her sister.

After half an hour later, she came out of the bathroom, dried herself, put on some light makeup and looked at herself in the mirror. She felt pity for the women in the mirror.

She felt the tears prick her eyes but she somehow controlled them and walked downstairs towards the kitchen.

It was a Sunday morning and she was pretty sure James wouldn't wake up anytime soon because of the amount of liquor he had consumed yesterday, so she didn't bother to prepare a breakfast.

She prepared herself a bowl of cereal and started munching on them.

There were whirlpool of emotions wrecking havoc in her brain. She had tried her best to ignore all the concerned voices of her well wishers, telling her about James' infedeility.

She could clearly hear Remus warning her about the possible affair. At the time she didn't pay any attention to his words and now those very words were pricking her throat making their way down to her heart.

Shaking her head and wiping a single tear that sprung out of her eye, she started doing the dishes when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She didn't expect James to wakeup so quickly.

He was in a pair of new boxers, his hair was disheveled and he looked like he came back from death.

"Morning, what's for breakfast?" James asked in a groggy morning voice.

"What do you want, haven't made anything yet."

"Uh, I'll have pancakes and Sirius would probably have bacons and eggs." James let her know his preference.

"Sirius?" She asked him a bit confused.

"Yeah, it's Sunday love, he always has his breakfast with us on Sundays." James reminded her.

She just nodded at him and started preparing the breakfast demanded. She couldn't believe how laid-back he was acting as if he wasn't going behind his wife's back with her sister. How easily he called her 'love' as if he didn't whisper the wrong name last night.

She felt animated, machine-like, controlled by a master. A machine which had no feelings or opinions of her own. Any other woman would confront her husband the very first thing in the morning but she felt like she didn't have the right to do so, the right to question James.

It was physically sickening to think about how many times had he come home after sleeping with her and pretended as if nothing had happen, how many times he must have slept with her after sleeping with her own sister.

She couldn't handle it anymore. The emotions were too overwhelming. She could feel the pressure slowly building in her chest. It felt like she would explode if she didn't confront James. She knew there would be consequences, James didn't do well with confrontations but she was ready to risk it.

She went up to James and looked him dead in the eye.

"James?"

"Yes Y/n/n"

"How long has it been going on for?" She questioned him without missing a beat.

"What's going on?" James genuinely looked confused.

"Since when have you been going behind my back with Lily?"

There was a long silence between the two of them. James looked shocked, confused and a little ashamed but in a fraction of seconds the shame in his eyes turned into anger but the anger fizzed out moments later as of something dawned on him. He had hesitation in his eyes.

"Who is filling your ears against me?" James asked in a low voice, coming dangerously close to her, his demeanor seemingly intimidating.

This made her flinch at first but she quickly gained her composure and calmly replied,

"You took her name in bed last night."

This made all his anger and intimidation fade and guilt and shame took its place instead.

"Nobody provoked me against you James, in fact I chose to ignore all the people who were concerned about me, who thought you were being unfaithful to me. I chose to ignore all those stolen glances, little ambiguous smiles, those indirect flirtious comments you passed. I chose to ignore all of it until I could not. How would you feel if I had taken another man's name in OUR bed on OUR wedding anniversary." She stated in a calm but stern voice.

"The fact is James, unlike for you, you weren't a replacement, you were everything, you were my world. Any sane person would want to hold on to the very last shred of their world. That's what I did until last night, when my entire meaning of existence came down shattering. James, I-I don't know what to do ahead of now, but it is for sure that I won't let you break my heart again.

Letting her stance be known, she swiftly headed for upstairs. James tried to stop her and explain her his side but she wasn't ready for more bulshit.

"Y/N, please listen to me, I-"

"No James, I don't wanna hear anything. There's nothing you can say that'll convince me to be back to normal. You fucked up James, now own upto it and face the consequences."

She couldn't look at James because she knew the moment she looked into his innocent eyes, she'll melt and she couldn't afford doing that.

She locked herself in her bedroom and sat on the floor, leaning against the door. She felt as if her insides were lit on fire. She knew she was going to lose James after this, she might even lose her family, she might lose her whole life.

The thought brought out a sob out of her throat and the tears which flowed yesterday, came rushing back in her eyes, again to fall into mindless oblivion.

This time she wasn't silent, her cries could be clearly heard, her pain could be felt in the surroundings.

A few minutes later, she heard a knock on the door. Before she could ask the person to go away, she heard a known voice call her name.

"Y/n/n, please open the door." Sirius asked in the most soothing voice.

"Go away Sirius, not in a mood to talk." She said in a dejected voice.

"Y/n James is ready for any decision that you make, he'll support you if you want stay and also, if you want to leave but atleast hear him out, there are few things he'd like to make clear."

Sirius's words erupted a volcano inside of her, the anger, the frustration, all the betrayal she had felt for the past 5 years just came rushing down her throat, like clouds filled with rain, eager to pour down.

She angrily opend the door almost breaking it with sheer physical force. She could see the horrified look on Sirius and James's faces but it didn't affect her one bit.

She looked straight into Sirius's eyes and started screaming at him.

"YOU KNEW HE WON'T BE FAITHFUL, YOU KNEW HE WASN'T OVER HER AND YET, YET YOU LET HIM GET MARRIED TO ME! WHY! ONLY TO HAVE MY LIFE RUINED! ONLY FOR MY HUSBAND TO CHEAT ON ME WITH SISTER!

All of this was happening so quickly, she wasn't able to get hold of her emotions. One moment she wanted to disappear and the other she wanted to demand explanations for all her miseries.

She looked at both of them and addressed James,

"Since when has this been going on? Was it before the wedding or after it? Did you fuck her on our wedding day? Oh, did you sleep with her on our first night?"

They both remained quiet, looking at their feet, too ashamed to meet her eyes.

At this point, She was shaking with anger. She could feel her pulse in her head, her heart felt as if someone has lit it on fire. She was desperate for their explanation and then letting them know her decision. But, she didn't know what the decision was. Where would she go, what would she do, how would she survive in this world without friends or family.

"Come on! Give me a damn explanation!" She demanded.

"Y/n I know now is not the moment to ask you to calm down but can we atleast discuss this in the living room, please." Sirius pleaded with a nervous voice.

She didn't say anything, just shot them a look and went towards the living room. Sirius and James followed her and took their seats on the sofas opposite to y/n.

There was a long moment of silence between the three which was then broken by James when he met her questioning eyes.

"I am done hiding things from you y/n and not because you caught me red-handed but because it was weighing my conscience. Y/n, the truth is that yes, I first started dating you in order to make Lily jealous but as time went on, I realized you were the best alternative to Lily I could find." James paused, shame clear in his eyes.

Those words felt like daggers in her chest. These thoughts have occurred to her before, people have repeated those exact words to her but hearing them from James had made it all too real.

"But after our wedding I decided to leave Lily behind and give you a chance.............give us a chance. Believe it or not y/n/n, I did fall in love with you, it only took me a few weeks to realize it. The moment I saw you as an individual, a person on your own and not as a different version of Lily, I knew i would be hopelessly in love with you-"

"If that was the case why did you act so cold against me?" She cut James before he could stop speaking.

"Why would you only talk to me when needed, why won't you let me touch you when we'd be physical, why would you sleep in a different room on a different bed?" She questioned with sorrow and agony in her voice.

Any women would feel the same if she would hear her husband confessing his love for her when he had taken her sister's name in bed the night before. She felt cheated, deceived, robbed even. Had Lily not existed, this man who had the ability to love in such pure form would be all hers.

"That is because I wanted to come clean to you some day and then start afresh, until then I didn't want us to live like a normal couple because that would've been deceiving you."

"You have deceived me James! You've cheated on me with my bloody sister!" She exclaimed furiously.

"I agree I have but it wasn't the case until a few months ago, we've been sleeping together for only the past few months." James explained.

"Bulshit! Utter, pure bulshit!" She sneered at James.

"Everyone saw how you and her used to flirt at any given time you both were in the same room."

"Yes I agree but that was it, just flirting. I started sleeping with her only a few months ago. I'm telling the truth." James explained himself.

"When Lily showed up at my office and asked me to hook up with her, I refused at first but she persisted and I had a moment of weakness and I caved in." James confessed seemingly ashamed of his actions.

She didn't know how much longer she'd be able to keep her dinner inside her, she felt extremely nauseous and head spun as if she had just used a portkey.

"I wanted to end it Y/N, trust me, that's why I asked Lily to come meet me at bar. We had a ugly fight and I drank a little too much in frustration. I wanted to come clean to you, tell you everything and hopefully start everything from the beginning. But last night didn't go as planned." James elucidated the events of last night.

She felt her mouth drying up but gathered herself and asked the dreadful question.

"One last question, did you sleep with her last night before coming home?"

She questioned, her heartbeats hammering in her ears.

"No. I didn't, I took her name because she was the last person I saw before I got drunk and also that...... that I had developed a h-habit of taking her name."

James hesitantly whispered his answer.

She could feel the ball of pain growing in her throat, she knew the tears would start filling her eyes any second now, she wanted to run out of the mansion and never look back and just keep running until her feet don't work anymore.

"I know that forgiving me would seem like a mammoth task but I can't do anything but apologize to you. I am so sorry, I truly do love you Y/n. Give me a chance and I will prove that to you."

James apologized to her.

"I can't James........ I have to go away from you." She let out a hollow whisper.

"I am really sorry Y/n, I promise you I'll be a better husband, a better person. Please don't leave me." James begged her.

The rawness in his voice rendered her speechless. How cursed she was to fall in love with someone who hurt her so terribly. She wanted to advocate her stance but Sirius did it for her instead, much to her relief.

"James mate, I think you should give her some time, let her recollect herself. She needs space, she's not in the right headspace to make the correct the correct decision."

"But I-I......" James tried to counter Sirius's point but found himself unable to do so.

"Fine. Y/n, I'll give you the space you need, as long as you want." James stated with an earnest expression.

She was having a hard time keeping herself composed, she wanted to sob, cry, scream, collapse but all she did was nod her head.

"You can stay at my place for as long as you want." Sirius offered.

Had it been some other time, she would've protested and insisted upon finding her own place but she was too tired to open her mouth and form words so she agreed with a nod of her head.

She went upstairs to her bedroom where summoned a packed suitcase with her essentials in it with a flick of her wand and and went down towards the door where Sirius and James where talking whilst waiting for her.

"You ready?" Sirius asked.

"Hm." She replied with a hum.

She apperated to Sirius's house with a crack. The moment Sirius's living room came into her line of vision, she collapsed on her knees and started wailing with gut-wrenching sobs.

Sirius sat beside her and wrapped his arms around her to give her some kind of comfort. She cling to Sirius's arm and mourned her life.

As the days turned into weeks and then months, Y/N's heartache slowly began to heal. Living with Sirius provided her with the support she needed, but the wound was still fresh, and the memories lingered. She found solace in the routine, the quiet moments of reflection, and the occasional outbursts of tears that Sirius patiently endured.

It had been a month and the wounds had started to close if not healed. She tried to not think about the incident and the confrontation but James was deeply embedded in her life, her memories, her soul. She could often feel the sorrow in her magic as she cast normal household spells. She had insisted on moving out but Sirius had convinced her to stay with him for a few more months. He had also convinced her to get a job just to keep her busy.

She had never thought of having to work as she always imagined herself to be James's housewife, so it took her while to figure out a job that fit her intrests. She settled for a job as salesperson and receptionist at the a florist shop at downtown London, not far from Sirius's studio apartment.

It was March now. It had been 2 months since the incident. She was getting acquainted with her life now and she liked it. It was one of those evenings where she had returned tired from a busy Spring day at the shop when she heard the enchanted door ring the familiar magical ring it made when it detected magic at the threshold. Expecting it to be Sirius, she opened the door, only to be left with her jaws dropped at the floor.

It was Lily.

She was at loss of words. It felt like someone was stabbing her heart with a dagger. But there was something odd about Lily, something out of character.

She looked frail.Her face was pale, eyes red from crying, and she looked genuinely remorseful.

"Hi." Lily broke the silence.

"What do you want?" She couldn't help but frown at her audacity.

"I....I want to talk." Lily replied hesitantly.

"But I don't." She answered bluntly and almost close the door on her face.

"Y/n please! Please, just let me apologize and explain myself. I know what I have done is horrible but please just hear me out once. Then, if you want I'll never show you my face ever again." Lily begged like a little child.

She didn't want to hear her out or listen to some sloppy explanation like "I was not in my senses, or I didn't know what I was doing" but her love of her sister seemed to contradict her mind. It had always been her weakness. Her loved ones had always been her weakness and surely they were using it against her quite well.

She couldn't help herself so she sighed, though initially hesitant, finally agreed to let her sister in the living room.

They sat on the counch, facing each other.

"So, start explaining yourself." She broke the silence sternly.

She saw Lily taking a deep breath and she readied herself to not fall for her hollow explanation and playing the victim card, like all the cheaters.

"Y/N, I know I don't deserve your forgiveness," Lily began, her voice trembling.

"But I need you to know that I am truly sorry. I won't say that I didn't know what I was doing because I did. It was deliberate. I did this because I was jealous, because I couldn’t stand the thought of you having something that I used to have. It was selfish and wrong.

"When James asked me to meet him on your anniversary, I was mad at him. I thought everything was going good so why would he want to end it. I didn't understand that until I visited James until a few days after and I saw how miserable he was. He told me everything and also showed me the memories of consequences he faced the morning after in a pensieve." Lily took a long shuddering breath.

"I saw how miserable you were, how hurt you were. I don't know why, I thought you were not much attached to James but I could see the pain and love for him in your eyes and it haunted me. I could live with myself. I realised my fault and it took a while to gather the courage but here I am. I am sorry y/n/n. I-I don't know how I can redeem myself but I am ashamed of my acts. Lily apologized.

She listened, her expression unreadable. She felt a mixture of anger and sadness but also a tinge of understanding. Her apology somehow felt real, as if she really meant it. Maybe she did. Only time will tell.

"Lily, I appreciate your honesty. It’s going to take time, but I do forgive you. We’re family, and I don’t want to lose you. But things can’t go back to the way they were overnight."

Lily nodded, tears streaming down her face.

"I understand. Thank you for giving me a chance. And please, think about forgiving James too. He’s been a mess without you."

She sighed, looking down at her hands. She felt a pang in hee chest hearing his name.

"I need more time for that, Lily. I’m not ready yet." Her reply was a mere whisper.

" I understand. I'm sorry to have you put in this position. Know that I will a accept any punishment you intend to give me."

Lily assured her.

"No Lily, I don't want to punish you. Give me some time. Time will heal everything."

"I hope so." Lily crossed her fingers.

She just gave her a pained smile.

"Hope is a dangerous thing."

Six months had drifted by like petals on the wind, and she was gradually finding her way back to herself. With the money she had saved over the years, she purchased the quaint florist shop where she had once merely worked, transforming it into a blooming sanctuary of her own creation. Her days were now graced by the delicate fragrance of flowers and the quiet satisfaction of nurturing something beautiful. In her free moments, she reveled in the companionship of Remus and Sirius, who had found love in each other. Life was beginning to resemble a canvas painted with hues of peace and contentment, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she felt truly at home in her own skin.

Autumn had sneaked up in the country like a robber in the dark of midnight. Spring and Summer had gone in a haze but now was her time to relax. Autumn was an off season so the shop remained mostly empty. She asked her helper to take over the desk and went to the coffee shop across the street.

The crisp air was a welcome change, carrying with it the scent of fallen leaves and the promise of a quieter pace.

Entering the cozy café, she greeted the familiar barista with a warm smile and ordered her favorite seasonal brew. She chose a corner seat by the window, where she could watch the world outside transform into a tapestry of gold and crimson. As she sipped her coffee, she let her mind wander, appreciating the stillness of the moment. The café buzzed softly with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of cups, but she felt cocooned in her own peaceful bubble.

Glancing around, her eyes fell on a familiar figure at the far end of the room. James was there, looking more worn and haggard than she remembered. He hadn’t noticed her yet, absorbed in his thoughts. Her heart skipped a beat, torn between the hurt of the past and the faint stirrings of old affections. She took a deep breath, unsure if she was ready for this encounter, but also recognizing that perhaps this was the universe’s way of nudging her towards closure.

She watched James for a moment, her mind racing. Finally, she took a deep breath and approached his table.

"James," she said softly.

James looked up, startled. "Y/n?" He blinked, as if unsure whether she was real. "I didn't expect to see you here."

She nodded, feeling a mix of emotions. "I didn't expect to see you either. How have you been?"

James sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Not great, honestly. I've missed you."

She took a seat across from him, wrapping her hands around her coffee cup. "I've been... healing. It's been a tough journey, but I'm getting there."

"I can see that," he said, his eyes filled with regret. "I know I hurt you, and I don't expect you to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am."

She nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. "I know, James. And I've been trying to move on. I even bought the florist shop where I used to work."

His face lit up for a moment. "That's wonderful. You've always loved flowers."

"Yes," she smiled faintly. "It's been a dream come true. And Remus and Sirius have been a great support. They're dating now, you know."

James chuckled softly. "I figured something was going on between them. I'm glad you have them."

She looked at him, searching for the right words. "James, I don't know what the future holds, but I think it's important we both find our own paths. Maybe one day, we can start anew, but for now, I need to focus on myself."

"I understand," he said, his voice heavy with sorrow. "I just hope that one day, you'll find it in your heart to give us another chance."

She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "We'll see. For now, take care of yourself."

James nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You too, Y/n."

With that, she stood up and walked back to her table by the window, feeling a sense of closure wash over her. It wasn't a perfect ending, but it was a start. And in the quiet of the autumn afternoon, she found a small measure of peace.

As she settled back into her seat, she watched James leave the café, his shoulders hunched slightly as if carrying the weight of the world. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling a strange mixture of sadness and relief.

Later that evening, she closed the shop, the bells on the door jingling softly as she locked up. The air was crisp, and the streets were illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights. She wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck and started walking towards Remus and Sirius's apartment.

When she arrived, Sirius opened the door with a broad grin. "Hey, there you are! We were just about to start a movie. Come on in."

Remus greeted her with a warm smile from the kitchen. "Hi, Y/n. Want some tea? We just made a fresh pot."

"Tea sounds perfect," she replied, hanging up her coat and joining them in the living room.

As the three of them settled in, with Remus handing her a steaming mug of tea, Sirius started the movie. She felt a sense of comfort in their presence, a reminder that she wasn't alone in her journey.

Halfway through the movie, she couldn't help but reflect on her encounter with James earlier. She shared her thoughts with Remus and Sirius, their supportive presence helping her process her feelings.

"You did the right thing," Remus said gently. "Healing takes time, and it's important to focus on yourself."

Sirius nodded in agreement. "And remember, we're here for you, no matter what."

She smiled, feeling grateful for their unwavering support. "Thank you, both of you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

As the movie continued, she leaned back, sipping her tea and letting the warmth of their friendship envelop her. The future was still uncertain, but for now, she felt content knowing she had the strength to face whatever came her way.

The next morning, she opened her shop with a renewed sense of purpose. The scent of fresh flowers filled the air, and she took a moment to appreciate the beauty around her. Each day was a step forward, a chance to rebuild her life and rediscover herself.

As the days turned into weeks, she found joy in the little things—arranging bouquets, chatting with customers, and spending time with Remus and Sirius. The wounds of the past were healing, slowly but surely, and she began to see the world in a new light.

One afternoon, while arranging a particularly beautiful bouquet of autumn flowers, she heard the door chime. She looked up and saw James standing there, holding a single red rose.

"Hi, Y/n," he said softly. "I was hoping we could talk."

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, let's talk."

They sat down at a small table near the window, the sunlight casting a warm glow over them. James took a deep breath, his eyes earnest and filled with sincerity.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking," he began. "I know I hurt you deeply, and I don't expect you to forget that. But I want to try and make things right. I want to show you that I can be the man you deserve."

She looked into his eyes, searching for the truth in his words. "James, it's not going to be easy. Trust needs to be rebuilt, and it will take time."

"I understand," he replied, his voice steady. "I'm willing to put in the effort, to prove to you that I've changed. But I also respect your need for space and time to heal."

She nodded, appreciating his honesty. "We'll take it one step at a time, James. I'm not making any promises, but I'm willing to see where this goes."

A small smile appeared on his face, hope flickering in his eyes. "Thank you, Y/n. That's all I can ask for."

As they continued to talk, she felt a glimmer of possibility. The path ahead was uncertain, but she was willing to take the first steps towards healing and perhaps, one day, finding a way back to each other.

With the changing seasons, she found strength in herself and in the support of those who cared for her. And as the leaves fell and the air grew colder, she knew that no matter what happened, she had the resilience to face whatever came her way.

It had been a week since James had visited her shop and they had been exchanging casual owls with each other over the week but James wanted to do something more. He planned something special.

James had spent the entire morning nervously rehearsing his plan. He knew he had to do something special, something that would make her smile and show her just how much he cared. He had roped in Sirius and Remus for help, and they had set the stage for what he hoped would be an unforgettable moment.

As she walked into the florist shop, she was greeted by an unusual sight. The usually tidy counter was now adorned with a massive bouquet of her favorite flowers, arranged in the shape of a heart. A small note was tucked into the center, and she picked it up, her curiosity piqued.

"Follow the petals," it read.

With a bemused smile, she noticed a trail of rose petals leading out the door. She followed them, stepping into the crisp autumn air. The petals led her across the street and into the park, where she saw James standing beneath a large oak tree, looking a little nervous but determined.

He was holding a sign that read, "Will you go out on a date with me?" in big, bold letters. But that wasn't all. As soon as she stepped closer, James flipped the sign to reveal the back, which was filled with smaller, hand-written notes, each one detailing a different reason why he wanted to take her out.

"Because you make me laugh."

"Because I love the way your eyes light up when you talk about flowers."

"Because I want to show you how much I care."

The list went on, and with each reason, her heart melted a little more.

James took a deep breath and stepped forward, holding out a single red rose. "Y/n, I know I've made mistakes, and I know I've hurt you. But I want to make it right. I want to spend time with you, show you how much you mean to me. Will you give me the honor of taking you out on a date?"

She looked at the rose, then at James, who was gazing at her with hopeful eyes. She couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer cheesiness of it all, but it was sweet, and it was sincere.

"Okay, James," she said, taking the rose from his hand. "I'd love to go out on a date with you."

James's face lit up with a smile so bright it could have rivaled the sun. He pulled out a small notepad from his pocket, where he had scribbled down his plans for the day.

"I have everything planned out," he said excitedly. "First, we'll have a picnic in the park. I made all your favorite foods. Then, we'll visit that little bookshop you love, and later, we can go to the cinema to watch that movie you've been wanting to see."

She couldn’t stop smiling. "You really went all out, didn’t you?"

"I wanted it to be perfect," James admitted. "You deserve nothing less."

She felt her heart swell with affection. "Then let's get started."

They spent the day together, enjoying each other's company and laughing more than they had in months. As the sun began to set, they found themselves back in the park, lying on a blanket and watching the stars appear in the twilight sky.

James turned to her, his expression soft and earnest. "Thank you for giving me this chance, Y/n. Today has been amazing."

"It really has," she agreed, squeezing his hand. "And thank you for going through all this trouble. It means a lot to me."

He smiled, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "Anything for you. Always."

And as they lay there under the stars, she realized that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other after all.

Months had stretched between them like a cold, unyielding winter, a time marked by the echoes of old promises shattered by James’s betrayal. The hurt had been a bitter wound, one that seemed to grow deeper with each passing day of their separation. Yet through that distance, James had worked tirelessly to mend what he had broken, proving himself not with grand gestures, but through the quiet, steadfast presence that had slowly healed her wounded heart.

Now, in Sirius’s apartment, the air was filled with the warmth of a love renewed. The space was softly illuminated by the gentle flicker of the TV, its light casting a golden hue on the room’s familiar contours. The movie played, a backdrop to their shared silence, a silence that spoke volumes of the journey they had traversed together.

James and her were on the same couch, their bodies close but not touching, as if each was testing the waters of trust and closeness once more. Their fingers brushed tentatively, a gesture that had once been routine but now carried the weight of their shared past and the promise of a hopeful future. James’s eyes were filled with a mixture of longing and apology, his heart laid bare before her.

After months of earnest efforts and heartfelt confessions, James had shown her that he had grown, that he understood the gravity of his mistakes and the depth of her worth. The painful past was not forgotten, but it was acknowledged with a sincerity that spoke of a genuine desire for redemption. Their renewed love was not the same as it had been, but it was stronger, tempered by the trials they had endured.

As the evening wore on, their conversation drifted from the past to the present, from the shadows of their former selves to the light of the lives they were now building together. Slowly, they leaned into each other, their shoulders touching, their hands finding their way back to one another. The comfort of their closeness was a balm to old wounds, a sign that they were moving forward, not just revisiting old ground.

James took a deep breath, his heart pounding as he gathered the courage to ask the question he had held close for so long. He reached for her hand, his fingers interlacing with hers as if to anchor himself in the moment. “Y/n,” he said, his voice steady but laced with the emotion of their shared journey, “we’ve been through so much. I know I hurt you, and I’ve spent these months showing you that I’m not the person I was before. I know that words alone can’t erase the past, but I hope that my actions have shown you how deeply I love you and how much you mean to me.”

He looked into her eyes, his own filled with both hope and vulnerability. “Will you marry me, again?”

Her gaze met his, and in that shared look was a mixture of joy and remembrance, of forgiveness and a future envisioned. A gentle smile touched her lips, her voice steady as she answered, “Yes, James. I will marry you, again.”

In that tender moment, as they embraced on the couch, the weight of their past and the promise of their future seemed to blend into a perfect harmony. They lay there together, a symbol of love’s resilience and a testament to the power of second chances. The shadows of the past faded into the gentle glow of their renewed commitment, and they knew that this time, their love was not just a fleeting dream but a promise of forever.

It was January again, a full year since “the incident,” and the cold of the season seemed to only enhance the warmth of their love. A great deal had changed since then. She was no longer the same woman who had faced betrayal with a broken heart. She was stronger, her soul healed and brighter, her relationships deepened and more meaningful. She was closer to herself, to James, and to the people who had stood by her through the darkest days.

On this January evening, as snow gently blanketed the world outside, she prepared for their third anniversary—a day that now held the promise of a future unfettered by doubt. The anticipation of this celebration was a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had shrouded her thoughts three years ago. The room was filled with a soft light, and the air was rich with the fragrance of blooming winter flowers.

Lily stood by her side as her maid of honor, their past differences having long been reconciled. Sirius, as James’s best man, stood nearby, a proud smile on his face as he shared in the joy of the occasion. This time, Remus was present, a beloved friend who had also been the one to walk she down the aisle. His gentle presence was a comforting reminder of the bonds that had been mended and the love that had endured.

The ceremony was a fairytale in every sense. The venue was adorned with delicate white flowers and twinkling fairy lights that cast a magical glow over the gathered guests. The vows they exchanged were heartfelt and tender, capturing the depth of their renewed commitment.

James began, his voice steady yet choked with emotion. "She, from the moment I met you, I knew my life was forever changed. Through my mistakes and our hardships, you have shown me the meaning of true love and forgiveness. Today, I vow to cherish you, to stand by you through all of life’s trials and triumphs, and to love you with a heart that is wholly yours.”

She took a deep breath, her eyes glistening as she looked at James. “James, you have been my greatest joy and my deepest challenge. Through our journey, you have proven that love can heal and grow stronger with time. I vow to support you, to honor you, and to love you fiercely, just as you have loved me. Together, let us build a life filled with grace, patience, and boundless affection.”

As they were pronounced husband and wife, the kiss they shared was a symbol of the love that had been rekindled, pure and unblemished by past shadows. Their kiss was a promise of the future they would share, a silent testament to a year of growth and renewal.

The reception that followed was filled with laughter and joy. She and James shared their first dance as a married couple, the music enveloping them in a cocoon of happiness. As they swayed to the melody, the world seemed to pause around them, the love they shared evident in every tender touch and gaze.

Later in the evening, amidst the joyful chaos of the party, Lily approached Y/n with a sincere smile. “I’m so happy for you, Y/n,” she said, her eyes filled with both regret and hope. “I hope you stay happy like this forever.”

Y/n’s smile was gentle, her eyes reflecting the hope she had carried through the years. “Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman with my past,” she replied softly. “But I have it.”

In that moment, as she looked at Lily and felt the embrace of the love surrounding her, Y/n knew that hope was not just a fleeting wish but a steadfast companion on the path they walked together. The evening continued in a swirl of joy and celebration, a testament to the enduring power of love and the promise of a future built on a foundation of trust and hope.

And as the night wore on, with the echoes of laughter and the gentle strains of music weaving through the air, James and Y/n danced beneath the stars, their hearts aligned in a shared dream of forever.

Losing herself in her husband's embrace, she finally found her peace. The warm realisation dawned over her that she won't all alone. She will actually have her husband by her side.

[tigirl-and-co]

Colours and Light Part 3

Morning Sun

Yippie, more unedited, stream of conscious shortficfic for my OCs! This is like the only time I write fluff lmao

Some people were very teary-eyed on waking up, eyes watering to rid themselves of collected dust and sleep. Chroma was among them. Some people forgot to take off their mascara and eyeliner before bed- Chroma was among them, too. This, of course, led to many mornings with makeup-stained cheeks and time spent washing her fur to be rid of the inky tear tracks.

Many times Luxa had thought about letting her girlfriend know when she was about to make the mistake again, but every time Luxa found a reason not to. She wanted to hasten Chroma into bed for extra cuddles, she liked the way the tear tracks looked...

But most of all, she treasured the mornings. Luxa booted up quickly in the morning, and had taken it upon herself to guide Chroma, bleary-eyed and incoherent, into the bathroom. The wolf would seat her girlfriend on a chair facing the mirror, and gently wipe away the evidence of yesterday's shows and last night's dreams.

Quietly, she would whisper and mumble, chastising the hedgehog for her forgetfulness, complimenting her vibrant quills, weaving together the fragments of last night's dreams, until there were no more smudges and all traces of makeup were gone.

Unbeknownst to Luxa, Chroma enjoyed the time just as much. Even through her bleary eyes and the cloudy mindedness that came with a slow start to the day, she admired her girlfriend. She'd stare into her sharp blue eyes, or use the mirror to marvel at how the two made so perfect a pair. Occasionally she'd think of those hands, so gentle and tender with her now, and be amazed that those same hands once fought so valiantly to keep them all alive. She felt blessed to know how soft those hands could truly be.

Burdened still by the weight of morning and unwilling to disturb the routine, Chroma said nothing, instead allowing herself a large, dopey smile, the kind of expression one can only make when they know they're safe. The kind of smile Luxa prized.

And in these peaceful moments, Luxa found herself unafraid to return it.

[ell-alexanderarnold]

The word ”Love”

Summary: Y/n and Trent are really close and have been friends since they were little, but one day they realise the two might be more than friends.

Fluff

Note: This is my first fic ever so I hope you like it! Let me know what you think <3 + my english is not good when it comes to writing 😅

Flashbacks from yesterday hit your thoughts while you lay in Trent’s bed. You might have drunken a little too much at that party. You look to your right side to see that Trent had already gotten up for the day, you reach for your phone at the bedside table and see that the clock is 1pm. You got up from the bed and grabbed Trent’s oversized shirt and put your hair up in a messy bun.

You walked down the stairs to see Trent standing in the kitchen. He turned around and laughed as you sat down by the kitchen island. “Good morning, you look.. tired?” He chuckled.

“Haha” You replied sarcastically and gave him an amused smile.

“Just kidding, did you sleep well?” He asked.

“Could’ve been better if you didn’t snore but thanks for asking” You said, knowing that you were so tired last night that you could sleep until you never woke up but Trent’s snoring seem to have changed that. Trent took up his phone and you noticed a wide smile on his face.

“Sorry Y/n” He said and somehow he couldn’t stop laughing.

“What? Why are you laughing your arse off?” You said, really confused as you looked at him with a wide smile.

“You should see the pictures I took of you last night” Trent spoke as you walked over to him and snatched his phone away from him.

“Oh my days, that can’t be me! Are you serious?” You exclaimed as Trent kept laughing.

The picture was of you last night when you were drunk, your makeup smudged all over your face and somehow you ended up in a bush outside Trent’s house. - Your worst nightmare.

“I don’t remember any of that” You stated.

“Well I do” Trent said as he laughed.

“That can’t be worse than your Champions League hangover!” You said as it brings back good memories. Trent smiled in response.

”Anyways, thanks for letting me sleep here” You said.

”Anytime” Trent replied.

He walked over to you with breakfast in his hands and gave it to you, it was your favourite.

“Trent! You did not have to do that, I could just eat at home later” You argued but you gave up and ate your breakfast that he made for you. You always liked when Trent did those little things after a rough night out, and you were pretty sure he thought the same when you did it for him.

After you ate your breakfast you settled down in Trent’s living room and watched Netflix while he was getting ready for training. You heard him rush down the stairs as he shouted“I’m leaving for training Y/n, I love you bye!”

“By-“ You barely had time to say goodbye as he was already out the door.

You spent rest of the day watching Netflix but you didn’t pay attention to the tv. Something was running through your thoughts, you knew what it was but you didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

You and Trent always tell I love you to each other but this time it really hit your mind differently. Of course you love him as a friend, but recently you guys have been closer than ever before, you even hold hands in public. The way you feel about Trent was something you couldn’t get away from. Every time you’ve been on dates, nothing felt right but when you are with him everything feel so easy, no one understands your jokes like he do, he can read you like a book when you’re feeling low.

“Do I love Trent Alexander-Arnold?” You said quietly to yourself.

———————————————————————

Trent POV

Trent was driving to the AXA training ground as usual but all he could think about was Y/n.

As he came into the dressing room he put on his football boots and walked onto the pitch, Y/n still stuck on his mind and he couldn’t help but smile when he thought of you.

“Someone’s in a good mood today!” Robbo said as he approached to Trent.

“What? Just because I have a smile on me face?” Trent answered in his scouse accent.

“I think he has a girl on his mind, lad” Hendo commented as he joined the conversation.

“What? Who? Tell me c’mon lad!” Robbo said as he joked around with Trent.

Klopp started the training session and Robbo was left with no answer. They started the session with a jog around the pitch, Trent could see Robbo behind him as he didn’t want to speak to him about Y/n but Robbo had already figured out.

“How’s Y/n?” Robbo asked as he jogged up to Trent.

“She’s all good, just had a rough night out yesterday though” Trent replied.

“Well, I hope you took care of her, remember last time”

“Of course, I made her breakfast this morning” Trent explained.

“Oooh! Boyfriend material right there!” Robbo chuckled.

“Shut up man” Trent said with a smile on his face.

When the training was done the squad went back to the dressing room, Trent changed into some sweats and a hoodie. It was just him and Hendo left so Trent decided to tell his captain about his feelings for Y/n.

“So what’s up with the girl we were talking about?” Hendo asked.

Trent tried not to blush but failed. “Y/n” Trent said shyly.

“Y/n! Isn’t that your childhood friend?”

”Yeah”

”So? Tell me more” Hendo continued.

“I feel like lately we’ve been more close than ever. I really like her, but I’m scared if I tell her my feelings for her she won’t feel the same” Trent spoke, he was telling the truth, he really liked you. You’ve been there for as long as he could remember, signing his first contract for the football club you both love so much, when he had bad games or when he feels like the world is judging him, you been there for him throughout everything. How could he not have fallen in love with you after all this time?

A moment of silence lasted for a moment until Trent spoke.

“I think I’m gonna tell her how I feel” Trent said quietly as he didn’t want anyone to overhear the conversation.

“Go for it mate” Hendo beamed.

Trent gave Hendo a smile as he left the dressing room.

“Good luck lad, see yous soon” Hendo replied.

Trent drove home with excitement and a nervous feeling. What if she doesn’t like me back? What if she’s with someone else? All he could think about were bad thoughts, but he had hope.

———————————————————————

To take your mind of Trent you took a long shower in his house while you waited for him to come home from training. Suddenly you heard the door open.

“T I’m in the shower!” You shouted and waited for him to answer to make sure it was him and not one of his brothers.

“Alright” He shouted back and you knew it was his voice.

When you were done with your shower and skincare routine you changed into your lounge wear and went down to Trent’s living room. There he sat peacefully watching the tv and you couldn’t help but giggle when you saw him all wrapped up in a blanket. You were pretty sure he heard your laugh.

“Don’t stand there laughing at me, join me instead” Trent said as he looked at you smiling with his brown eyes.

You sat down beside him and he gave you a part of the blanket. He put his arm around you and you felt safe in his arms, now the thought of being his girlfriend came into your mind, you tried to forget it but the long warm shower didn’t seem to help. That’s when you decided tell him what you were feeling.

“Trent?” You began.

“Yeah?”

“You know when we say I love you’s to each other, do you feel like you love me?” You said looking at him.

“Of course Y/n”

“I’ve always loved you.” He added.

You got butterflies in your stomach hearing the words he just said. Was it true?

“Is that really true?” You giggled.

Trent knew it was true, in fact it was too good to be true. He have always loved you, since the day you first met.

“Y/n”

“I love you”

“Wha” You didn’t have time to speak before he kissed you with his soft lips. In this moment you felt like everything just clicked. You know now that you love Trent Alexander-Arnold, and he loves you too.

[dayjobjotter]

Unnamed (A Short Story)

One of her favourite memories as a child was hung upon her bedroom wall in a chipped golden frame. It was an unnamed oil painting of the seaside town that they used to live in. During their first month there, a wicked storm had battered it and her father was determined to memorialise it with thick oil paint. Each stroke, splatter and spot perfectly placed. Everything he did had to be just so.

 On the right was a line of shops facing the sea, all a dim pastel rainbow against the dismal sky. She had a lot of fond memories of that street: the chippie where they’d eaten on their first night in town when they realised they had no food at home; an ice cream parlour she begged him to take her to on her birthday (since they had the strangest flavours) and one of those pound shops that sold cheap plastic tat for tourists to play with on the beach, but had some real artistic gems hidden in the back. Seagulls circled above the empty town as simple grey ‘v’s in the sky and she swore she could hear their squawking again whenever she looked at it. There was no beach to speak of as the sea had engulfed the sand, crashing against the towering cobblestone wall that protected the tiny town. He’d layered the deep blue swirls settled at the bottom of the canvas. The edges of the waves were blotted white and jutted out; the pale froth a ghostly breath floating to the top. The sea must have been out for blood that day. It sadly meant that there were no boats for him to paint, but her child self had imagined some clunky ones to be stuck on top, their little stickman sailors peeling away at the edges.

It felt sacreligious looking at it now. Her father had spent so long refining the painting, making it the perfect recreation of that night and her grubby little hands had ruined it. None of the boats or sailors were the same size or shape because of the curse of her infant hands. But he had loved them.

She was there the night he finished it. Perched next to him on the dock, scribbling away in her first sketchbook. The storm raged outside their tent and it wasn’t much shelter from the weather, but that wasn’t what bothered her father. What did was that it was nothing like the scene on the canvas - less violent and more miserable - but he still continued to paint. Easily recalling an image of yesterday, so long ago to her childish memory. Never would she understand how he made it look real. Real enough that if the pressed your finger into the paint, you may fall thro-

“No touching, Pumpkin.” He smiled down at her, gently pulling her wrist away from where she was about to smudge it and returning it to her own work. It was nothing in comparison to his.

But the two of them weren’t alike in the slightest. People questioned it whenever they went somewhere since she took more after her mother. She had straight black hair and a slight tan from the summer sunshine they had enjoyed but a few days before; whereas he was dirty blonde and concerningly pale. His hands were slim and crooked, notches carved into his flesh where he held his paintbrush and light wrinkles as he began to age. Underneath his eyes, the skin had darkened and started to sag downwards but it didn’t impede on the rosiness of his full cheeks. It was where his life resided: in his eyes and in his smiles. Even when his eyes were red-rimmed and his smiles bittersweet. 

“Why?” She asked.

“Because it’s not done yet.”His voice was still rough and gravelly. “It needs time to harden so that it won’t get disturbed and ruin the picture.”

She nodded in agreement. “Like one of mum’s cakes.”

He froze mid-stroke and lowered his head. Opening his mouth without sound, he looked like a distressed fish out of water. 

Finally, he settled on “I suppose.”

In silence, she returned to colouring in her picture, holding the large crayon in her fist and clumsily rubbing it against the page. The majority of it went beyond the lines she’d established. Her father breathed heavily next to her and his hands shook violently when he raised them, flicking small globs of paint onto his work.

With his voice quivering, he asked her something that she’d stay loyal to for the rest of her life. “Your mother.. I- Pumpkin… I don’t think she’ll come back. So I think that we should add that to our silence game. And not mention her again.”

“But, when she comes back…”

“If she comes back, then the game is off.” He reached out to pet her on the head, running his fingers through her hair. “But just in case. It’ll be easy, okay?”

She lowered her head back to her drawings and he followed her gaze. When he saw what she’d drawn, he grinned. “Are those boats? Shall we add them to my sea?”

It was gloomy outside their little bubble of warmth. The same as many days before and many days afterwards. She was beyond glad when they moved a few months later. For years it was just her and her father, travelling the country, visiting the art museums and painting whatever sparked their interest. Trying to upkeep their crumbling bubble of warmth. Until they couldn’t.

Her favourite memory had found a new home. It’s chipped golden frame laying against the hospital wall. They said it would help - to have something to remind him of home - that it would do his brain good during his extended stay. But his brain wasn’t the only part suffering. 

His face was near skeletal now from years of neglecting to care for himself. What was once a pink, round and full of life had become pallid and sickly. Bandages wrapped around his wrists from when he… she didn’t even want to think about it. The signs had been obvious for so long, since they had lost her mother but he had refused help. He had opted to quietly ‘deal’ by himself. The previous day she got the call from the hospital explaining what his newest strategy of ‘dealing’ was.

He couldn’t even look her in the face. His eyes were blank and his smile non-existent.

“Addilyn, I’m sorry…” he whispered.

“I think we should talk about her.”

Word count: 1,089

Author's note:

Thanks for reading, this is the first short story I've put out online and would appreciate any feedback to help improve my work or general comments. I will do my best to respond to all. This was a lot of fun to do and I have ideas for more little stories that I am excited to share :)

Also I am so new to this website, what am I supposed to do with tags???

[tales-of-a-wilted-sunflower]

Beginning of Recording

Now Playing: VHS 2: Yellow Roses

It's a freezing day in faraway town. The town is blanked in a thick coating of snow that crunches under the young man’s feet as he somewhat shivers from the bitter cold biting at his face whenever the wind blows. He’s never been the biggest fan of winter…It’s far too cold for his liking and it’s definitely annoying to have to clean off his glasses every few minutes when he is walking across town or his college campus when it snows. Oh the irony of having a birthday in the dead of winter…Though Henry couldn’t really complain that much. These grievances were minor annoyances at best. Really the only thing that sincerely worried him about the snow and winter is how the weather may adversely affect his younger brother’s health. Kel’s daily routine for the past 3 years never changed. Even when it was snowing or the winds were so biting cold that one could feel it through a winter jacket. Kel would still do the same thing he always did. That was truly the one thing that would bother Henry…He worried that such behavior would be detrimental to his brother’s health…Sooner or later. 

That being said, Henry saw the value and sweetness in honoring those who are gone. Especially when they would be there for you if they still could. Which is why he found himself here…at the entryway of faraway town’s graveyard…On the afternoon of his 23rd birthday with two different bouquets in his arms. An arrangement of red roses and an arrangement of yellow roses. He stops at the foot of the stone, glancing over at one over in the back but he can’t bring himself to walk to that one…not yet. Not until he’s said what needs to be said. Henry kneels down, placing down the arrangement of yellow roses at the foot of the grave as he gently wipes off the excess snow that obscured the writing on the stone, 

Our Beloved Sunflower Basil. Our thoughts will follow you into your dreams. 

Henry adjusts his glasses so that they are no longer falling down his nose as he starts to speak. 

“Hey Basil…I…I’m sorry I never visited much outside of your birthday…College keeps me busy and well…I just needed time to process everything that I wanted to say. I want you to know that despite everything, I forgive you for what happened that day…7 years ago. While I don’t think I’ll ever understand what was going through your mind that day…I know that at the very least you must have been terrified to lose two friends in one day and yet…everything for the most part…fell apart anyway…I can’t imagine how horrible and lonely that had to be for you. That even in the presence of others, you still felt alone…I hope that one day you can find the strength to forgive yourself. We all still care for you as a dear friend and wish nothing but the best for you in the new year. You used to always say that roses made you think of me so I brought you some yellow roses as a token of my appreciation for always being a great friend to us all. I hope that one day in the next life, we can all meet again.”

He then stands up and makes his way over to the other headstone,

Our Dearest Mari, The sun shined brighter when she was here 

Henry kneels down by the stone placing the arrangement of red roses at the foot of the grave. He needs to take some deep breaths to ease the tightening in his chest. Even to this day, looking at her grave is still difficult despite it being 7 years since her death. But given a few moments, he finally finds the strength to speak again. 

“Hey Mari Dearest…I am sorry for the delay. I just really had to speak to Basil for a moment, to clear the air and you know maybe help him forgive himself in a way.”

He pauses adjusting his glasses to keep his own tears from smudging the lenses.

“I…I still miss you…my lily of the valley…It’s been 7 years and yet it still feels like yesterday we were just two teenagers with big dreams for the future…Even though those dreams will just remain dreams…I hope to make you proud and become someone you would have been proud to call your husband one day. Even when I finally fully move on one day, I’ll still always love you Mari, my first love. I hope you and Basil are having a happy new year and I look forward to seeing you again…one day…”

End of Recording

[just-a-funny-little-brain]

Transitions

Inn Between, Meltyre-centric, 9.5k words

Summary: Meltyre's mother had talked to him a little bit about getting older and what happens to your body. But it hadn’t really occurred to him that those things would happen to him. He knew he was a boy, but his body still thought he was a girl and was getting older like a girl’s body would.

tw: panic attacks, thought spirals/negative self-talk, internalized transphobia, referenced canonical character death

Read it on Ao3!

-----------

Baby Myrtle was the talk of the village when the plum farmer and her husband announced the birth of a healthy baby girl with the ears of her mother and the nose of her father. She cried, as all babies do, when she took her first breath, and the new parents smiled.

Toddler Myrtle was a menace, her father would tell you with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his lips. “Enough of a handful on her own, that one,” he would say with a laugh when Old Sir Lirion asked about more on the way. 

Child Myrtle though... Well. She became a person all her own.

——

“Mommy! Can we do more words?”

Gallea smiled and shifted the infant in her arms. “I’m sorry, honey, I can’t right now. I need to feed Lydda soon and dinner is almost ready. Daddy should be home soon and can do more words with you then.”

The door creaked open and a taller man entered. “Daddy can do more words with you right now, Squirt,” Laine said with a smile. He crossed to the cooking pot to kiss Gallea, then placed a gentle kiss on Lydda’s forehead. She stirred slightly before falling back asleep. Laine smiled then turned back to Myrtle. “What words do you want to do today?”

Myrtle scrunched her face up, thinking hard. “Um... Can we do my name and Lydda’s name and your name and mommy’s name?”

Laine smiled. “Sure can! Go grab the charcoal and we can do a few before dinner is ready.”

“Yay!” Myrtle hopped up and darted into the adjoining bedroom, grabbing the wooden holder and the piece of charcoal from where it had been placed yesterday. Carefully she wedged the charcoal into the wood as her dad had showed her until it was solidly stuck inside. She skipped back into the main room. “I made the coal-stick!” she said, handing it to her dad.

He took it and smiled. “So you did!” Grabbing a stool, he joined Myrtle in the corner of the room by a particularly smooth, flat stone with faint charcoal smudges still visible.

Carefully, he sketched out some words on the stone. “Alright, Squirt, let’s start with this one. Can you read the letters for me?”

“Oh! ‘L’-‘Y’— that’s in my name!”

Laine nodded. “They both are! Do you know what’s next?”

“Um… ‘O’?”

“Close,” her dad said, writing another letter on the stone. “This is ‘O’. See how it’s round all the way around?”

“Like the moon!”

“Exactly,” he said with a smile. “This one is ‘D’. It has a straight back and a round front.”

“Like the maji… majikstate?”

Gallea stifled a laugh from across the room, and Laine tussled Myrtle’s hair. “Magistrate. And don’t let him hear you say that, or you’ll be in bi-ig trouble!” Peals of laughter filled the room as he tickled her sides in emphasis.

“Shh!” Gallea chided through her own laughter. “You’ll wake the baby!”

“Oh no!” Laine stage-whispered. “We’re already in trouble!”

Myrtle curled in against him as she continued to giggle.

“Okay, okay! Do you know the next letters now?”

“‘D’-‘D’! ‘L-Y-D-D’! And um… ‘A’?”

“Very good job! Can you put it all together?”

With a furrowed brow, Myrtle traced below each letter as she sounded it out. “L…ee…d-d….ay?”

“That’s a good try! ‘Y’ and ‘A’ are tricky because they can make a few different sounds. In your name we don’t even hear it, but for Lydda, it makes an ‘ih’ sound.”

Myrtle traced over the letters again. “Lydda… Lydda!”

“I think she can hear you,” Gallea said, “because she just woke up. Why don’t you two come eat and I’ll feed her?”

“Okay! Thank you, mommy!” Myrtle wrapped her arms around Laine’s neck. “Thank you, daddy!”

“Anytime, Squirt, anytime.”

——

Myrtle was 8 when Baby Min was born. 

“Mommy?” she asked from the floor where she was keeping Lydda out of trouble.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“What would you and daddy have called me if I was a boy?”

Gallea paused. “You know, I don’t think we ever talked about names much. We just waited for you to come out and then went with what felt right.”

“Like with the kittens?”

“I don’t think your father named the kittens, but if you did, then I’m sure it was exactly like that,” she said with a smile. 

Myrtle thought for a moment. “Could you give me a boy name?”

Gallea looked over, then set down the bread she was kneading. Wiping her hands on her apron, she stepped towards Myrtle and knelt. “Where’s this coming from, sweetheart? Is everything alright?”

Myrtle looked up at her. “I think I might be a boy. Is that okay?”

A gentle smile crossed Gallea’s face. “Of course it is, honey. We’ll always love you, no matter what. You know that, right?”

Myrtle nodded. “Can you and daddy give me a boy name?”

“Getting to name you twice? We would be honored,” she said with a smile, and she pulled her new son into a hug.

---------

Read the rest on Ao3!

[navar44]

Hunted

A bit of writing based on @aaytaro-gt ‘s Inktober prompt list.

Day 11 - Monster

==

Dear journal, 

I ruined my last sock today. The hole in the sole did not hold up well after the rain yesterday, and my foot tore through it this morning. That leaves me 100% sockless now.

I still have my boots, as worn down as they are, but the chafing is already annoying since I’d been swapping which foot my sock was on last week. I might need to use those dinky sandals now, but they’re not really made for rugged terrain.

I miss when I first got here and my pack was full of the gear I’d packed for camping in the Catskills. When I’d wandered amongst the trees that were as tall as I was, watching tiny deer and little bears scatter at my feet.

It was weird, but I had what I needed. Now that it's been nearly two years, I just miss things my size. I miss bathing in warm water. I miss eating normal food, I miss latrines. I miss my friends, my parents.

The writing smudges out

Sorry journal, They found me again. Not that it's hard for them to find me, I leave giant trails, but they caught up all the same.

I miss not being treated like a monster.

When I first came across the village in the mountains, I hadn’t known what to do, but the villagers wasted no time riddling my clothes and arms with arrows. They stung, so I ran.

They must have told someone about me, because these hunters, for lack of a better term, started popping up all over the valley. I’d leave if I could, but the mountains are very cold and tall and the only pass between them is through the village.

I’ve tried talking and reasoning with them, but they speak a language I don’t know; it sounds like nothing I've ever heard before. I wonder if they’d even listen anyway.

The only saving grace is that I think they think I'm harmless. They’re not trying incredibly hard to kill me, which I’m sure they could, given time, and I have made sure not to harm a soul. 

Hell, I even saved one of the hunter’s lives when a boulder nearly crushed him! I don’t think he’s come back at least, but the others always do.

One is a barrel chested man with a crossbow and two dogs. The bolts stick in my skin like large splinters, and it's hard to not hurt the dogs as they run between my feet. I usually just run as fast as possible until I reach the highlands past the river, then I just try to hide in the mountains until the barking fades away.

Another is a trio, wielding bows and arrows lit with pitch or tar. Those three have ruined most of my clothes, destroyed my sleeping bag, and they even stole my matches! They don’t pop up as much, but they’re always shouting what I can only imagine are insults.

There's a pair, who I think are married, that hunt me on horseback, another group that seem more like mercenaries than hunters, some kid who probably just wants a name for himself, and many more that come and go as the seasons change.

After two years you’d think they’d stop, you’d think they’d realize I didn’t want to hurt them, I didn’t want to scare them: I just want to go home. 

[jon-withnoh]

For the character ask game - Beatrice (of course): 5 (favorite ship with them), 11 (first thing you think about when you think about them), 16 (childhood headcanon)

5. Favourite Ship: Just answered this two minutes ago but! I don‘t ever grow tired of talking about Beatrice. My current favourite ship with her is Beatrice/Rebecca in a friends with benefits situation. Insisting they don‘t actually like each other, but still hooking up and generally caring about each other. I don‘t see it as romantic, which makes it even more fun to think about. I genuinely think these two would be able to set some decent boundaries with each other. However, Danny absolutely would not approve. Stay tuned for the new chapter on Monday. You‘ll see what I mean.

11. First thing I think about: Beatrice‘s Act Two costume in the musical. That jacket!! Those boots!! I noticed yesterday that her costume is actually very similar to Frank‘s, which is delightful considering the queer subtext they both have (separately from each other). I know the riding costume is mostly an upperclass English countryside kind of costume choice, but it‘s still super gay. Second thing I think about is Kerstin Ibald hugging Ich so strongly that the noise of Beatrice patting Ich‘s back is audible even on the cast recording. It delights me.

16. Childhood Headcanon: Allow me to respond with a snippet from my currently unpublished Beatrice Backstory fic (CN for bullying):

Mrs de Winter pinched the bridge of her nose, wearing an expression of great suffering. “Beatrice, I do not have time to discuss your whims. Our guests will be here in less than an hour. Go back to your room and for goodness’ sake, do something about your hair.” She turned and disappeared down the corridor in a rustle of expensive fabric.

Beatrice raised a hand to her hair, feeling self-conscious. Smith had done it up less than half an hour ago, curling and gathering it at the top of her head as was the current fashion. Beatrice had requested exactly what she’d thought her mother would expect. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. She pressed her lips together, smudging the lipstick she had forced herself to apply. Don’t be daft, she told herself. Don’t cry. She’ll know. She always knows.

She trudged back up the stairs and into her bedroom, reapplying the lipstick before ringing for Smith. She sat with her back to the mirror, stretched out in the chair in a rather inelegant way. Chairs were a mystery to her. Couches too. She had watched the other girls at school sit down on them, fanning out their skirts and drinking tea with their little fingers sticking out. Beatrice had never quite managed to copy them, as first her governess, then her teachers were so eager to remind her. She was bunching her skirts wrong. Her shoulders were hunched like a crone’s. She was scowling while sipping her tea.

“Gosh, Beatrice, you are terribly unattractive, glaring at your cup like this,” one of the other girls had said, provoking a burst of laughter from everyone else. “You’ll never receive a proposal with that face.”

Beatrice had turned crimson. “It is lucky, then, that I have the fortune to make up for it, while you have to rely on looks alone.”

She had been sent to her room for that, and made to apologise to whichever of her classmates it had been. It had been worth it. It always had been, all the hours she’d spent by herself in punishment for something she had said. None of her classmates had been punished for teasing her, a reminder that even her tongue ran loose in all the wrong ways.

“You rang, Miss de Winter?” Smith had appeared in the doorway, her face ever so slightly flushed. She was wearing her evening uniform now, suggesting she had just been upstairs changing when the bell had gone off.

Beatrice turned to the mirror to hide her embarrassment. As long as she could remember, she had avoided thinking about other people’s bodies. It was none of her business. She had no right to think about them changing from one outfit to the other, rolling up stockings and lacing corsets.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

Dead City Ep 3: People are a Resource

@wdway:

I have fought against sending this ever since I saw it yesterday morning and I can't stand it any longer. I truly believe we have a picture of Beth.

We hear Maggie tell Negan that the closest thing she has to her family is in that box, meaning the small metal box with the drawing of Glenn and photographs. So this has to be a photograph of her family, right.

They made sure it was small and quickly shown when Maggie looked at it. I enlarged and turned it so we could see it better. I think it's safe to assume standing on the far right is Herschel (a look alike for Scott Wilson) and that would make Beth's mom next to him, the other two people could be relatives or friends.

Sitting on the steps to the far right, since it's a brunette I'm assuming that is Maggie, the c being possibly her step brother and the third being blonde, safe to assume is Beth. Maggie's face is pretty much gone and both the c person and who I think is Beth, eyes seem to have been blacked out. Lots of symbolism could be read into that.

There are the white streaks I don't know if that's supposed to be age or reflection, but one is almost seems to be pointing to Beth's wrist, since it's her left arm it would be the one that she would have later try to cut. It looks as though she has two tops/shirts on with the one underneath being pink.

What I did not catch originally was that there seems to be a fourth person, another person on the other side of Beth. The head is totally blacked out and I truly did not even notice this person except there are legs next to Beth. I don't know if this is symbolic of someone that is present, but totally unseen. Another thing we could go crazy with speculation.

I do also like the fact that they placed the lady in a yellow dress with Beth on the step below her. It was Maggie who commissioned a portrait of Beth for her office at Hilltop. It was Maggie that for the first time in almost a decade that spoke Beth's name during the conversation between her and Daryl in Home Sweet Home. Now we have a photograph, fuzzy and aged, but still an indication that Beth lived. That she existed. And definitely is included in the storyline of the TWDU.

Again I turned and enlarged so we could see it better. The first ones is very recognizable of Maggie and Herschel. The second one I kept trying to figure out who that baby was because my first thought was that it was Maggie but that certainly could not be little Herschel. It then hit me that this could possibly be Maggie's mother and the small child is Maggie. That would make a lot of sense with these photographs being of her family. There's one more photograph in her hand and we do not see that one. Hopefully in the future we will be able to see that one.

I was immediately struck with the similarities from the flashback scenes between Negan and Ginny with those of Daryl and Beth in s4.

They're in the woods and we have Ginny with a golf club.

Negan with all those layers on immediately made me think of Daryl in Alone where he has like 20 different layers on compared to Beth who had a golf shirt and a sweater. Jenny also is carrying a backpack, a different color than Beth's black one, but still.

It's very subtle but Jenny's forehead has a smudge and an rounded area that fits perfectly to where Beth was shot. It stood out to me because in episode Still where Beth is trying to make a fire, on her forehead is a similar smudge that none of us paid attention to until after Coda. Looking back it was a foreshadowing of that gunshot wound. Here we have a rework of Ginny representing Beth with the same type of smudge.

I believe the strongest comparison of Negan and Ginny representing Daryl and Beth was in the final flashback. The rework of the scene in s4e1, 30 Days Without An Accident, between Daryl and Beth at the door of Beth's prison cell. Where Beth is hugging Daryl and he is so very awkward, not knowing how to respond to her. He finally puts his hand on her arm. We have the replay of that with Negan and Ginny.

Negan took the role of Beth in the rework of talking about hope. His statement of hope immediately took me back to Beth's monologue in s4e10 Inmates, where she talked about hope.

I just love all the call backs of Beth and Daryl in this episode plus all the other things that we found out regarding Maggie and Herschel's relationship. We were right in our thinking that there was friction between Maggie and Herschel, that he is very much in that zone of preteen or teen rebellion.

I have to say I thought we would have to wait until e5 or even 6 before we found out what happened to Negan's family, it was a happy surprise to be getting so much information in this one episode. Negan has a son named Joshua! They lived in a little cabin near New Babylon. He put them on a wagon (train) to Missouri. I want to think we heard mention of Missouri in TWB, or maybe it was mentioned in the episode Nebraska? It just seems so sad that he finally got the family he always wanted and he chose not to go after them. He did not feel like he was good for them. Does that type of thinking remind anyone else of Carol?

I guess you could say we got a double whammy with this one in both a eye and an ear reference, kind of, haha.

I'm loving how they're using Ginny to show all the Beth symbolism.

Those were the high points for me. I'm looking forward to reading your reactions to the episode.

@galadrieljones:

This was so intriguing. Maggie is breaking down, I think. Her exterior is coming apart and we are finally getting glimpses into her emotional life.

This picture was very interesting to me because of who is in it. I think that is definitely Beth, without a question.

But who are the other people? I think this has to be something important. They look darker complected to me, and the boy in between them looks noticeably dark in complexion with black hair?

BUT, I went back and I found a photo of Shawn. I think it could be him.

He is wearing the same clothes

So is that Shaun’s father and his wife, and his mother and Hershel? Perhaps

I want to go back to season 2 now and find shots of the family photos on the refrigerator at the Greene house

Anyway, I had the same thought as you pertaining to the other photo, that it was Maggie’s mom and Maggie

Because Maggie’s mom died when she was young it would make sense.

Also, you are right to ask how the hell Maggie has these. I really do wonder if she went back to the farm. I would not be surprised to learn this.

What I want to find out is when, and I ofc want it to have happened after Coda. I want to learn that she and Daryl went back to the farm together during the missing 17 days. Maybe they thought they’d find Beth there after she went missing. Or maybe they just went back because they didn’t know what else to do.

That said, it wouldnt at all be surprising to me to learn that she took Hershel back there during her lost years. Maybe before heading out to the coast in Savannah and meeting a community of speculative PADRE refugees.

I suppose it’s possible that Maggie grabbed the photos before they left at the end of season 2, but tbh I doubt it, because it all happened so fast and they ran. Also, they made a whole to-do in season 4 about Glenn having that photo of Maggie, and how Maggie didn’t understand, and then Glenn got rid of it because he thought he wouldn’t need it because they’d never be separated again. Maggie isn’t sentimental and I cannot imagine her wanting photos unless she was absolutely desperate, which, as we saw, she was, after Coda.

ALSO, it’s worth asking how Jadis was able to paint Beth without a photo. Maybe she had a photo.

(the photos Maggie had from after Coda)

Maggie’s little “box” also made me think of how Norman said Daryl still has Beth’s knife, we just never see it. Maybe we will. The idea of Daryl opening up to a digital diary means maybe we will see it again or hear about it or Beth somehow.

And I think these photos are a perfect exmaple of how tptb uses imagery to engage the GA but also get the close watching audience to ask important questions. The GA will just look at this and feel sad about Maggie’s loved ones all being lost. We will look at it and say, “Wait, when the f*ck did she go and get those.”

I just want to say i’m REALLY loving Dead City. It is super slick and sharp and the characterization is so good, feels like how the show used to be. Negan and Maggie’s relationship is developing and I love how they used that moment in which Maggie opted not to light the dinosaur on fire to show that she is not as cold-blooded and selfish as she used to be. I knew right away that Maggie was going to consider destroying the dinosaur because it would take Negan’s eyes off the prize, off HER kid, but here we see she is empathizing with him. She doesn’t want to give up hope.

@wdway:

I'm enjoying reading your take on the photos. As far as the other couple being the ex-husband and they're all a big happy family, I just don't feel that. Not that we know that much about the relationship but I just don't think that they were a Happily Divorced couple. We never really knew if she was divorced or widowed. We did assume because of Beth's age that Beth's mother would have been several years younger than Herschel.

This is one of the reasons TD has always believed that the age gap between Beth and Daryl would not have been a huge issue to Herschel or Maggie. I love the thought of Daryl going back to the farm with Maggie. I just think it's more likely that it was with young Herschel during their way to her Nanna place on the coast. There is a chance that the other couple in the family grouping could possibly be Beth's mother's sister or brother. Herschel I believe was an only child since he's the one who inherited the farm.

Here's another thought I had concerned Maggie getting the photographs from the farmhouse, I imagine she got more than those three, four if you count the one that we didn't see, did she give Daryl a picture of Beth.that would be a flashback I would love to see. Totally understand how they don't want us to see a clear look of this grouping in the family photo, do either of you have any thoughts about why Beth and her brothers eyes were blackened out. And why can't we see anything of that person on the other side of Beth? This is over the top TD on my part, but I just want that person to symbolize Daryl always being beside Beth in her memory as if she in his.

@galadrieljones:

Good call on them being maybe Hershel’s new in-laws! That makes sense. I agree it would be weird for it to be Shaun’s dad and his new wife. I also don’t remember if maybe we learned anything about Shaun/Beth’s mom and whether she was a widow.

It’s hard for me to say if the eyes are truly blacked out (like with a sharpie) or if it’s just an effect of the blurred photograph. That said, it does really look like Beth’s mom’s face is totally blurred out while the others are not.

@wdway:

The other thing that I thought with showing these old photographs is that they would get people to remember those early s2 scenes and the stories that Maggie told about what a real brat she was growing up. And when she talked about her conflicts with young Herschel I couldn't help but think that he was a chip off the old block. It's along the lines of parents always telling their kids that they hope that their kids are just like them (as a payback).

@galadrieljones:

I also think it’s most likely that Maggie went back with Hershel. Or like, that’s easiest to retcon. Although I’m still curious in that case about Jadis/Anne’s ability to sketch Beth so closely without a photo. ANother headcanon would be that Daryl went back on his own at some point and brought Maggie some pictures.

Definitely, makes me think of Beth finding the birth control pills. “Nothin, daddy!” Such a cute characterizing moment for Beth. That she’s kind of a rule follower but ultimately would never rat out her sister and sort of instictively knows real trouble from trouble that is merely perceived.

@wdway:

Yes! yes! I want to believe that year between Commonwealth falling and Daryl returning he went back to Georgia, to Grady and the Greene's farm and brought back pictures to Maggie. Yes! that's the truth I want to believe.

@galadrieljones:

I want so bad to learn that Daryl went back to Atlanta at some point.

@galadrieljones:

Also that makes me wonder about what you suggested during our discussion of the spinoff, which is that it’s possible they will leave it super vague at first, why Daryl was headed to Europe, or what he’s looking for. If they do that, that’s kind of how you know it’s not specifically just Rick.

@wdway:

So many people thought that the mischievous smile Beth gives to Daryl on the porch about burning down the shack in the episode Still was the same kind of smile she gave her daddy when he came upon her and Maggie at the pond.

@galadrieljones:

Love it. Follow the rules till the rules stop making sense. Then change them. That’s what she did at Grady.

I ofc have my headcanon fantasy with Daryl going back to Atlanta… I want him to for some reason get a hair up his ass and to go back to the farm, then just feel like something is off and go back into the city and to the hospital, find some reference to coordinates in France, or some correspondence to France then follow them because he needs a job. Daryl needs a quest.

Tbh they could do anything at this point, with the seeds they planted back in season 4-5.

@wdway:

I like that. I'm thinking that what he finds at Grady is some paperwork about their treatments for Walker bites. With pictures of their subjects, just like what June had for the radiation treatment. He finds that information with Beth being one of the successful test subject. Records that ultimately leads him to find out more about the CDC and the other research team in France. I could spend a whole evening plotting that scenario out.

@galadrieljones:

This is so possible right now that I’m blinded lol. I am officially like, idk why they would do anything else Do they want to bring in a flood of new viewers? Bring Beth back from the dead!

My only change to your scenario would be that he finds none of Beth’s records at Grady because they’ve all been wiped and removed by whoever “took care of” the Grady threat. But Daryl is smart and he follows them hoping for more information. When he gets to France he finds correspondence and records that reveal Beth’s participation in the treatment and the implication that she has been cured of the disease, that she is immune, that further study pertaining to whatever protocol she went through is required, but the buck stops there because the operation was shut down and the French teams were hunted and slaughtered or jailed.

But there is something that must indicate to Daryl she could still be alive and that she could have survived the headshot, whether it’s via regenerative properties related to the virus or something else… Sorry let me not get too carried away

Like you I could do this all day lol

@wdway:

You have my blessing to get "carried away" as much as you care too! I'm loving it.

@galadrieljones:

Well I’m going to continue now because why not? Lol

Ofc what happens after Daryl goes searching alone for answers, Carol is left behind to putter about and try and help fix things up around Alexandria. She’s lonely and bored. She occasionally goes to see Ezekiel at the CW and things are heating up a little bit but ultimately going real slow. She ends up staying at the CW for a while and she bunks in Daryl’s empty apartment/house because she’s not ready yet to stay with Ezekiel.

She is Carol and so snooping is her middle name, even if it is only be accident. She might just be obsessively cleaning and organizing Daryl’s stuff when she stumbles upon some record of the information he took from Grady. She remembers, and she knows what she’s looking at because she was there and she is very disturbed. She is thinking a lot about how Daryl had to go off by himself and wouldn’t let anybody come with him.

She suddenly gets her own quest, which is to track him down and help him because she’s bored and ofc subconsciously avoiding what is going on with Ezekiel because that’s easier than facing the fact that she might still love him. But also because she finds something in there which suggests she too may have been a research subject at Grady while unconscious.

So she steals a boat from Oceanside (because she’s Carol and why would she ever ask permission? Lol) and sets off for France. Maybe in the name of character development she ends up saving him, in a selfless action. He’s ofc annoyed she’s there and probably pissed because of how dangerous it was for her to literally cross an ocean for him, but he’s also glad because now he doesn’t have to do all this alone.

Together they are in search of the holy grail which will explain these major missing pieces in their lives: What happened to Beth? And what happened to Carol while she was at Grady? Now it’s clear via Dead City that if Beth is alive, Maggie doesn’t know. Or else it’s such old news, she has already made peace with Beth’s reemergence and moved on.

The thing about Maggie is her entire characterization revolves around Glenn. So the pictures, even if one does include Beth, don’t necessarily have to mean that’s what they’re meant to commemorate. This is about Hershel and Glenn, hence the watch, which represents them both. It would not be that absurd to believe that Maggie is still running from her past, which means even freezing out Beth and/or Daryl. Not because she isn’t happy, but because it saddens her to see them together, having found each other after all these years, when she knows she’ll never have that chance.

So instead of asking someone she knows and loves for help, she returns to Negan. Negan’s company is a reassurance of her sadness and pit of despair. He affirms her depression and avoidance and the negative, bad person she has become. This negates her having to take responsibility for turning her life around and trying to work things out with her son and with the other ppl she’s alienated over the years.

Like w Carol, it’s sometimes easier to run from happiness than it is to return to the darkness. Maggie is so accustomed to darkness at this point, it’s just the devil she knows. Ofc she doesn’t count on Negan being a source of hope? Perhaps when she returns we then see the light she has been avoiding all this time. Then they go off and find Rick and save the world

@twdmusicboxmystery

Loving all the observations, Gals! I agree, @galadrieljones. For some reason, even though I liked Fear, it just didn't speak to me like DC is. I had very similar thoughts on the pictures and the Negan/Ginny dynamic being similar to Bethyl. One other thought I had for who the two others in the pic might be: they might be a young version of Patricia and Otis. This man is lean, and the actor who played Otis was never that, but this is the TWDU of yesteryear, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

The Negan/Ginny dynamic makes me wonder if Ginny will die. It seems like every episode I've watched, I've seen something that struck me as a death omen. And of course it's TWD, so that's like every 2 seconds. But I"m constantly thinking, "is that a death omen for Maggie?" I don't know. Maybe. "Is that a death omen for Hershel?" I don't know. Maybe. "Could this be a death omen for Ginny?" I don't know. Maybe. Lol. So, it will just be interesting to see how this plays out and what other parallels there are to Beth and Daryl. But I'm very much looking forward to more episodes.

I, too, @wdway, thought they would make us wait longer to find out about Annie and the baby. And I love that his name is Joshua. Just so biblical.

Love all the head canons as well. Eating them up!

@galadrieljones:

Love your notes, @twdmusicboxmystery. I do hope Ginny doesn’t die. That said, after they killed Finch in Fear I feel like all bets are off in terms of kid death. Idk. If she died, that would definitely propel Negan out west to find Annie and Joshua. But they don’t have to kill her to do this. She could go with him or find her own way and stay behind in Hill Top. Idk. As you said, only time will tell.

That said I was glad to hear that Annie and her baby aren’t dead. I thought almost for sure they were dead. But I had to keep asking why they exist if they were just going to kill them, so it makes sense they’re alive. I think that their journey west will ofc open up some doors for new settings in TWDU.

@wdway, you mentioned the episode Nebraska as pertaining to the “wagon train to Missouri,” and I went back through my notes to see what exactly those guys at the bar said to Rick, Glenn, and Hershel. They don’t mention Missouri, but they mention “the middle of the country”: “A rail yard in Montgomery winding trains to the middle of the country—Kansas, Nebraska” I cross-checked PADRE’s secret coordinates and none of them is in Missouri or the middle of the country; however, we only get to see two of the cards when Madison pulls them out of the binoculars. There’s one we never saw.

ANYWAY. Back to Dead City. I was very interested in the use of methane, the fact that the Croat was an alternative energy scientist, that he had found a way to turn the dead into an energy source. Extremely smart. Another extremely popular "alternative energy" source, historically, has been nuclear energy.

He was VERY afraid of the maggot in his meat and really overreacted. He seems obsessed with cleanliness. I wonder if that will come back to haunt him, esp considering all the roaches that swarm Maggie and Negan, and the use of the laundromat as a battle setting. Cleanliness is an interesting theme here. I was also intrigued by the interesting focus on boots. Maggie has retractable spikes in her boot tips, and the Marshal uses his boot to kill those walkers. He's also hidden important information in his boot, which reminds me of Davon. When Davon wakes up at Amanda's house, the first thing he asks about his his boot, which contains the PPP card and picture of his family.

There are a couple trucks that we see in this episode. Potter and Ford Refrigeration and Haasair. Neither is an actual thing. Potter and Ford is a real estate agency near London, England. Haasair is not a thing, but Haas Automation is a tool manufacturing company out of Oxnard, CA. The Haas automation logo looks a lot like the Haasair logo on the truck. Idk if any of this is important, but it's certainly not obvious.

There's also a clear shot of the license plat in that first shot with the deer. Does that look like anything to you, Ann?

There was a "Find Me" reference in the note from Pearlie's brother. He seems to be asking Pearlie to help him, that he can't deal with his addiction on his own. It doesn't say anything about addiction in the note. It's vague. But I am putting two and two together with the crack pipe in the apartment. In the letter, it says, "Please help me. Please come find me."

Also, that walker impaled on a tree branch. This made me think of the storm aftermath in Them. Walkers impaled on tree branches. I only noticed this because I had gone back to Them to rewatch the scene with Daryl and Maggie in the barn after we discussed possibilities for when Daryl and/or Maggie may have gone back to the farm.

Another Them reference came earlier for me, before I went back to rewatch parts of the episode. When Negan tells Amaia (?) that Maggie is "tougher than she looks, and she looks tough as shit." In Them, Maggie says that Tyreese was tough, and Daryl then says that Beth was tough. I think Hershel tells Rick that "his daughter is tough" as well in Rick's death episode.

I think that line in Them is funny, because in my observation, Tyreese wasn't tough, and he wasn't portrayed as tough. He was physically strong but mentally weak. Not a coward, but mentally weak.

It seems like it was cued up so that Daryl could say that Beth was tough. But he won't say her name, and he won't bring it up himself. He will only add onto what Maggie says.

When I went back to Them I also rewatched the scene when Daryl leaves to go find the barn. He leaves multiple times and goes back. It's really a weirdly structured episode.

This is probably not new, but I thought maybe it was an imprint of his journey post-17 days. He leaves to find Beth, then he comes back. Then he leaves to find Beth, then he finds a barn (goes back to the farm?) and comes back. In Them, when he gets back after finding the barn, he doesn't tell Rick right away. Rick shows him the sign and the water that Aaron left ("from a friend"). Eugene tries to drink the water and Abraham slaps it out of his hands. Then it starts to rain. FG starts shouting that he's "sorry, my Lord." Everyone is euphoric except for Maggie, Sasha, and Daryl.

At this point, they are all implied to be suicidal, to varying degrees. These are just observations, idk why. If the barn is meant to symbolize Daryl leaving the group and finding the source of his pain which results in hope, that's interesting. I think it could be argued that finding the barn is meant to be, at the very least, this means of Daryl looking back on the Greene farm, which is basically where the rest of his life began.

If you look at the above shots, you can tell who the episode revolves around. They are edited in that order, with the camera being up close on Daryl, and Maggie and Sasha's eye lines edited to be looking at each other, or at him, while he seems to be looking inward. "Them" is arguably a Daryl episode. In the episode, he has all the agency. He finds the barn. He notices the storm first and holds the door shut. He fixes the music box.

So whatever the story is, if it's meant to be foreshadowing or reverse-foreshadowing, ie: looking at what happened in the missing days, we could argue that it's from his POV.

The moment between Maggie and Daryl is very vague, ofc. But there's the moment when Maggie says to him, "It's okay to rest now." This feels like it means much more than what's on the surface. Like perhaps they toiled together for some time. They bond in this moment in ways we haven't really seen before, and it seems like maybe Maggie has spent enough time beside Daryl in the past few weeks to feel that what he lost was not typical, that it was special enough for them to bond over.

This line also seems like Maggie putting Beth to bed, which is something she is never able to do with Glenn. Earlier Maggie tells Glenn that she never thought Beth was alive and implies her guilt over this. Like, she just figured Beth was dead and had no hope. Later, Daryl tells Maggie Beth was tough.

Nobody believed in Beth except for Daryl. In the future, nobody will believe she's alive except for Daryl. The music box reawakening is still a really striking moment. That whole episode, like WHAWGO, is very oblique and strange. Anyway, these are just a bunch of notes sparked by that episode of Dead City. Most of it is vague and circumstantial, but I'm interested in your thoughts.

Let me clarify that when I talked about Daryl's sequence of leaving to find Beth, then coming back, then leaving to find Beth, going to the farm, and coming back, I actually meant this mirrors what happens after Beth is taken, beginning with Consumed, not just the missing 17 days.

(and obv that's just speculation lol)

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 269

The Abominable Bride

COULD I have just typed “the abominable bride full episode” into youtube yesterday and had the first half as the top result and the second half right under it? Maybe, but I was angy.

“The Abominable Bride”

Plot Description: Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson find themselves in 1890s London in this Christmas special

How I’m being forced to watch this……..and I don’t even truly want to watch it

I’m truly just here for Andrew Scott but even that will break my heart

I’d be so mad if the person who just decided we were going to live together told me I should get acclimated to never finishing a sentence. We simply would not be living together. I’d find somewhere else

Mary hasn’t died yet in the show, has she? Unfortunately, I truly can’t remember. I’m leaning towards no

I’m sure this woman in a wedding dress and smudged makeup shooting at random dudes on the street with TWO pistols has a very valid reason for doing so

Mary’s still alive outside this weird Victorian dream Sherlock’s having because he told John and Mary that Sherlock is actually either a girl’s name or gender neutral at the end of last episode (sorry, been bothering me)

Having not read all the Sherlock Holmes stories I’m not sure if they’re girlboss-ifying 1895 Mary, but the things I’ve heard about the actress playing her (terfery), Mary’s character fighting for women’s suffrage feels either too on the nose (given the time period) or a slap in the face (translated it to modern times)

I forgot they made Molly crossdress so she could still be a medical professional

MAYBE IT WAS A SECRET TWIN?! Really?? I mean, they were hinting at the secret Holmes sister at the end of last episode with the whole East Wind thing but….

Ok. But I do like this Molly. This “not afraid to express how bitter she is that John is as close as he is to Sherlock despite not having the skills she possesses” Molly. She’s unafraid to express it even though she has to hide WHY

I know it’s Doyle canon accurate but I think we could have done without the fat suit for Mycroft :/

We’re at least a little bit redoing the five pips??

1895 Sherlock is the worst of the headcanoned ace rep Sherlock has. Like on one hand, we DO get “oh, Watson, nothing made me [like this]. I made me.” However the “like this” is hating any emotion even though the conversation before this was about romantic love and sexual attraction. And just….conflating those to things to be “all emotion” 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

The way “miss me?” written on a small note sent me screaming. I am positively vibrating with the anticipation of getting to see my horrible consulting criminal againnnnnnn

Baby, i HAVE missed you!!!!!!

Oh…I remembered that Sherlock woke up in modern times, but i forgot he was able to go back into 1895

HOW. How do they all just let him do whatever he wants?? He’s literally about to personally exhume the body of a woman who died 120 years ago because what? Because he had a drug induced dream about her?? And he just needs to know he was right in his DREAM?! John won’t stay for it, hit Mycroft and Lestrade seemingly have no problem with it???

This is what this show was missing:Moriarty and Sherlock fist fighting on a ledge beside a waterfall. I am not joking

They just……..kicked him off the ledge?!?! Just so unceremoniously?! You kick Moriarty? You kick his body like a football? Oh, jail for Watson! Jail for Watson for a thousand years!!