#child-friendly relationship approach

[golden42]

Astrology-Based Soulmate Manifestation: Discovering Your Ideal Partner Traits

Key Takeaways

Astrology can help identify personality traits that align with your ideal partner.

Understanding your zodiac sign's influence can improve relationship compatibility.

Fire signs like Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius seek passionate and adventurous partners.

Earth signs, including Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn, value stability and practicality in relationships.

Astrological tools like natal charts and synastry can guide soulmate discovery.

The Power of Astrology in Finding Your Soulmate

Astrology has long been a guiding light for those seeking to understand themselves and their relationships better. By exploring the celestial influences on our personalities and behaviors, we can uncover insights that lead us to our ideal partners. Astrology provides a roadmap for navigating the complexities of human connection, helping us align with those who complement our true selves.

Role of Astrology in Relationships

Astrology plays a pivotal role in relationships by offering a framework to understand compatibility and dynamics. When we delve into astrological charts, we unlock a treasure trove of information about how we interact with others. This knowledge can be transformative, especially when it comes to finding a soulmate. By recognizing the strengths and challenges of each zodiac sign, we can approach relationships with greater awareness and empathy.

Most importantly, astrology encourages self-reflection. It prompts us to look inward and identify our desires and needs in a partner. This self-awareness is crucial for forming meaningful connections that stand the test of time.

Zodiac Influence on Personality and Compatibility

Each zodiac sign carries distinct characteristics that influence personality and compatibility. Understanding these traits can help us identify the types of individuals we naturally resonate with. For example, a fiery Aries might be drawn to someone who matches their enthusiasm and zest for life, while a grounded Capricorn may seek a partner who offers stability and practicality.

Besides that, the elements—fire, earth, air, and water—play a significant role in determining compatibility. Fire signs are known for their passion and energy, earth signs for their reliability and pragmatism, air signs for their intellect and communication skills, and water signs for their emotional depth and intuition.

How Astrology Guides Soulmate Discovery

Astrology guides us in discovering our soulmate by highlighting key traits and compatibilities. By analyzing our natal charts, we can identify the planetary influences that shape our romantic inclinations. Venus and Mars, for example, are crucial indicators of love and attraction in astrology. Their positions in our charts reveal how we express affection and what we find appealing in others.

Moreover, synastry—comparing two individuals' charts—offers insights into how their energies interact. This technique is invaluable for assessing the potential for harmony and understanding in a relationship. By considering these astrological factors, we can make informed decisions about our romantic pursuits and increase the likelihood of finding a truly compatible partner.

Key Traits of An Ideal Partner Based on Zodiac Signs

Each zodiac sign has unique qualities that define what they seek in a partner. By understanding these traits, we can better align ourselves with individuals who complement our astrological profile.

Fire Signs: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius

Fire signs are known for their passion, enthusiasm, and adventurous spirit. Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius thrive on excitement and are drawn to partners who share their zest for life. They value independence and are attracted to individuals who can keep up with their dynamic energy.

Aries, the first sign of the zodiac, is a natural leader who seeks a partner that can match their ambition and drive. Leo, ruled by the sun, craves attention and adoration, making them drawn to partners who appreciate their charisma and creativity. Sagittarius, the wanderer of the zodiac, desires freedom and exploration, preferring partners who are open-minded and willing to embark on new adventures.

Water Signs: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces

Water signs are deeply emotional and intuitive, often seeking profound connections with their partners. Cancer, Scorpio, and Pisces are known for their sensitivity and empathy, making them naturally attuned to the needs and feelings of others. They value emotional security and are drawn to partners who can provide a safe and nurturing environment.

Cancer, ruled by the moon, is the nurturer of the zodiac. They seek partners who can appreciate their caring nature and offer the same level of devotion in return. Scorpio, with its intense and passionate nature, desires deep emotional bonds and is attracted to partners who are equally committed and loyal. Pisces, the dreamer, looks for a soulmate who can understand their creative and spiritual inclinations, providing a compassionate and supportive presence.

Cancer: Values emotional security and nurturing.

Scorpio: Seeks deep emotional bonds and loyalty.

Pisces: Desires a compassionate and understanding partner.

Water signs thrive in relationships where emotional depth and mutual understanding are prioritized. They are highly intuitive and can often sense the needs of their partners, making them ideal companions for those seeking meaningful and lasting connections.

To attract a water sign, it's essential to be open and honest about your feelings. They appreciate authenticity and are drawn to individuals who can express their emotions freely. Being supportive and empathetic will help you build a strong and lasting bond with a water sign partner.

Steps to Manifest Your Soulmate Using Astrology

Manifesting your soulmate using astrology involves aligning your intentions with the cosmic energies that influence your love life. By understanding your astrological profile and clarifying your desires, you can attract a partner who resonates with your true self.

The journey to manifesting your soulmate begins with self-awareness and intention setting. By focusing on what you truly desire in a partner, you can align yourself with the universe's energies and draw your ideal match into your life.

Identifying Your Astrological Profile

The first step in manifesting your soulmate is understanding your astrological profile. This involves analyzing your natal chart to identify key influences on your personality and relationship preferences. Your sun sign, moon sign, and rising sign all play significant roles in shaping your romantic inclinations.

By exploring these aspects of your chart, you can gain insights into your natural tendencies and what you seek in a partner. For example, your Venus sign reveals how you express love and what you find attractive, while your Mars sign indicates your desires and how you pursue relationships.

Clarifying Desired Traits in a Partner

Once you understand your astrological profile, it's essential to clarify the traits you desire in a partner. Consider the qualities that align with your values and complement your personality. This clarity will help you focus your energy on attracting the right person.

Aligning Yourself for Attraction

To manifest your soulmate, you must align yourself with the energy you wish to attract. This involves cultivating the qualities you seek in a partner within yourself. By embodying these traits, you become a magnet for individuals who resonate with your energy.

Additionally, maintaining a positive and open mindset is crucial for attraction. Let go of past negative experiences and focus on the possibilities of the future. Trust that the universe will guide you to your ideal match when the time is right.

Affirmations and Visualization Techniques

Affirmations and visualization techniques are powerful tools for manifesting your soulmate. By repeating positive affirmations, you reinforce your intentions and align your subconscious mind with your desires. Visualization allows you to create a mental image of your ideal relationship, making it more tangible and attainable. For more insights, explore how to manifest your soulmate based on your zodiac.

Practice these techniques regularly to strengthen your manifestation efforts. Visualize yourself in a loving and fulfilling relationship, and feel the emotions associated with this experience. The more vividly you imagine your desired outcome, the more likely it is to manifest in your reality.

Astrological Tools to Enhance Soulmate Manifestation

Several astrological tools can aid in the process of soulmate manifestation. By utilizing these resources, you can gain deeper insights into your relationships and enhance your ability to attract your ideal partner.

Natal Chart Analysis

Your natal chart is a map of the sky at the moment of your birth, providing valuable information about your personality and relationship dynamics. By analyzing your chart, you can identify key influences that shape your love life and guide your soulmate search.

Focus on the positions of Venus and Mars, as they reveal your romantic inclinations and desires. Additionally, examine the aspects between planets to understand how different energies interact in your relationships.

Working with an experienced astrologer can provide further insights and guidance. They can help you interpret your chart and identify patterns that influence your romantic experiences.

Transits and Synastry

Transits refer to the current positions of planets in relation to your natal chart. These movements can trigger events and shifts in your love life, providing opportunities for growth and connection.

Synastry involves comparing two individuals' charts to assess compatibility and relationship dynamics. By examining how your planets interact with those of a potential partner, you can gain insights into the strengths and challenges of the relationship.

Role of Venus and Mars in Love

Venus and Mars are two of the most influential planets in astrology when it comes to love and relationships. Venus governs how we express love and what we find beautiful and desirable. It reflects our romantic inclinations and preferences in a partner. For instance, if Venus is in Libra in your chart, you might be drawn to harmonious and balanced relationships. To explore more about finding your ideal partner based on your zodiac sign, check out this insightful guide.

Mars, on the other hand, represents our desires and the way we pursue love. It signifies passion, drive, and the actions we take in relationships. A person with Mars in Aries may approach love with enthusiasm and directness, preferring a partner who matches their energy. Understanding the placements of Venus and Mars in your chart can provide valuable insights into your romantic dynamics and compatibility.

Final Words on Astrology and Soulmate Connection

Astrology offers a profound way to understand ourselves and our relationships. By exploring the celestial influences on our personalities, we can uncover insights that lead us to our ideal partners. While astrology is not a guarantee of finding a soulmate, it provides valuable guidance that can enhance our journey toward love.

Ultimately, the journey to finding a soulmate is one of self-discovery and growth. By embracing the wisdom of astrology, we can align ourselves with the energies that attract fulfilling and meaningful connections. Trust in the process, remain open to possibilities, and let the stars guide you on your path to love.

The Journey of Self-Discovery and Partnership

The journey to finding a soulmate is deeply intertwined with the journey of self-discovery. As we explore our astrological profiles, we gain insights into our desires, strengths, and areas for growth. This self-awareness allows us to approach relationships with authenticity and confidence, paving the way for meaningful connections.

Partnerships rooted in mutual understanding and respect are the cornerstone of lasting love. By embracing our unique qualities and those of our partners, we create a foundation for a harmonious and fulfilling relationship. Let astrology be your guide as you navigate the complexities of love and companionship.

Frequently Asked Questions

Astrology can be a powerful tool for understanding love and relationships, but it often raises questions for those new to its concepts. Here are some common questions and answers to help clarify the role of astrology in soulmate manifestation.

What is a natal chart and how does it help in finding a soulmate?

A natal chart, also known as a birth chart, is a map of the sky at the moment of your birth. It provides a detailed snapshot of the positions of planets and their influence on your personality and life path. By analyzing your natal chart, you can gain insights into your romantic inclinations and compatibility with potential partners.

The natal chart highlights the positions of key planets like Venus and Mars, which govern love and attraction. Understanding these placements can help you identify the qualities you seek in a partner and how you express love. This self-awareness is crucial for attracting a soulmate who resonates with your true self.

Can astrology predict the timing of meeting a soulmate?

While astrology can provide insights into potential periods of romantic opportunity, it does not offer precise predictions about the timing of meeting a soulmate. Transits and progressions can indicate favorable times for love and connection, but free will and personal choices also play significant roles in shaping our experiences.

How accurate is astrology in determining soulmate compatibility?

Astrology offers valuable insights into compatibility by analyzing the interactions between two individuals' charts. Synastry, the study of these interactions, can reveal strengths and challenges in a relationship. However, it's important to remember that astrology is just one tool among many. Personal growth, communication, and shared values are equally important factors in determining compatibility.

Example: A couple with strong Venus-Mars synastry may experience intense attraction and passion, but without mutual respect and understanding, the relationship may face challenges. Astrology can highlight potential areas of harmony and conflict, guiding partners toward deeper connection.

Ultimately, the accuracy of astrology in determining soulmate compatibility depends on how well it is integrated with personal experiences and insights.

What role do rising signs play in relationships?

The rising sign, also known as the ascendant, represents the persona you present to the world. It influences first impressions and how you interact with others. In relationships, the rising sign can affect how you approach love and partnership, shaping the dynamics of your interactions.

Are there other ways to find a soulmate besides astrology?

Yes, there are many ways to find a soulmate beyond astrology. Personal growth, self-awareness, and open communication are key components of building meaningful connections. Engaging in activities that align with your interests and values can also lead you to like-minded individuals.

While astrology provides valuable insights, it's important to remain open to various avenues for finding love. Trust your intuition, embrace new experiences, and allow the universe to guide you toward your ideal partner.

In conclusion, astrology is a powerful tool for understanding love and relationships. By exploring the celestial influences on our personalities, we can gain insights that lead us to our ideal partners. Embrace the wisdom of astrology, and let it guide you on your journey to finding a soulmate.

[northopalshore]

Juno in the

Ascendant persona chart

Juno (3) here tells you what people think of your partner, but also how they view your relationship. It's your partner & relationship from the outside looking in. Unlike the MC persona chart though, this is more "real" i.e the non-grandiose version of your life.

୨୧ Please do not repost without consent ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔฅ🔉

☆ Juno Masterlist | Main Masterlist

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

☾ Aries (°1,°13,°25) | 1st House

People view them as someone rather child like or at times childish. It's not an insult don't worry, it's just that they seem so youthful and energetic regardless of their age. They view your partner as someone energetic, charismatic and resilient, but also have a bit of a class clown or dorkiness to them. They are also quite attractive in the eyes of other people; eye-catching, and bold. They may also seem like a heartthrob to others as well. Youd relationship will seem just as fun & energetic as your partner is.

Example: Zendaya & Lisa Marie Presley have this placement, both Tom Holland & Michael Jackson have this sort of energetic, almost childlike energy to them.

☾ Taurus (°2,°14,°26) | 2nd House

Your partner is very kind and approachable to the eyes of those around you. People will say that your partner is very goofy, but still careful and attentive to those around them. They have this sweetness & groundedness to them that people will like. They are relaxed and may be taking the "back seat" when it comes to you doing things in public together i.e they may appear more relaxed than you. People may think you have an easygoing relationship (but you may be seen as lazy in some cases).

☾ Gemini (°3,°15,°27) | 3rd House

People will see your partner as a very talkative and silly person, but also someone extremely smart and multifunctional if that makes sense. Your partner may be a social butterfly and easily mix in with those around you . They could be seen as the one doing a lot of work in the relationship depending on other placements. People may always see you with each other as well or think of the other when they're talking about you or your partner. Your relationship will seem somewhat all over the place, or both of you may seem quite busy together. It might seem a little "messy" too depending on other placements.

☾ Cancer (°4,°16,°28) | 4th House

People will see your partner as a shy, innocent and almost fragile being. Someone with a genuinely kind heart and appearance. They may think they look or seem very young and childlike; pure. They may seem very feminine or motherly even if they are a man. Very sweet and caring; someone that should be protected at all costs lmao. People think that your relationship is strong and endearing, and that you are very supportive of each other. There is this relatable aspect to your relationship that people find easy to connect to.

☾ Leo (°5,°17,°29) | 5th House

People see your person as someone beautiful, inspirational and someone to look up to. They exude a friendly but infatuating charm. Someone with a lust for life and a funny/ entertaining quality to them. People will think that your spouse is attractive and may be quite flirtatious or artistic (like they may burst out singing a Disney or theater song sometimes). They are very friendly to others and people usually find your dynamic very entertaining, romantic and extra.

☾ Virgo (°6,°18) | 6th House

People see your partner as someone very reliable, down to earth and practical. They may seem like a neat freak or always seem put together. They may come off as quite nerdy and reserved. People think that they are smart and very hardworking, but also fussy and critical sometimes. People tend to be critical of your relationship. Virgo here is also one of those "inseparable duo" placements; people will usually always see you together and always think of the other when discuss either one of you.

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*

☾ Libra (°7,°19) | 7th House

People see your partner as devilishly charming. Someone who is incredibly romantic & attractive but also smart and cunning at the same time. Tactical but approachable. Hrs & Hrs by Muni Long keeps playing in my head when I think of this placement. You may be very physical with them, people will think you just look good together. People will think that they are well mannered and attractive. Your relationship will also be an "ideal" one in the eyes of those around you. They just know that you both work well off each other.

☾ Scorpio (°8,°20) | 8th House

People may view your partner as a bit of a negative Nancy, or like .. a shy chill guy in the corner of the room with either their hands crossed or in their pockets. They may think your partner comes off a little too serious or intense at times. They could come off rather sketchy as well, or people may just assume that from their appearance. They may seem reclusive or uptight to some as well, (and maybe scary to some lol). They are also seen as someone very tactical and know exactly what they want and how to get it. People will say that your relationship is quite private or you don't share much about that aspect of your life.

☾ Sagittarius (°9,°21) | 9th House

There is this larger than life quality to your person. People will think that they are chill, funny, wise and also reliable. They also come off as someone enthusiastic, open-minded, and witty. People will say that your partner has an infectious energy that draws others to them. Others will think that your relationship is healthy, a little bit wild and free spirited but both of you are always down to do whatever. You could be the "smart" couple that people look to when things start to go south or when others need some sort of reassurance. You two seem to have it all figured out.

☾ Capricorn (°10,°22) | 10th House

People see your partner as a very practical ,stable, loyal but stern individual. They may seem quite closed off or overly rational at times. People think they are extremely trustworthy and capable. People may look up to your partner, admire them for their personality or their work. This can also give your partner a somewhat cold look to them when you are in public or around other people, your partner may choose to keep to themselves or be the one looking over everyone else for example. They may have a "talk to me only when necessary" aura to them lol. People see your relationship as something stable and long lasting but also somewhat traditional.

☾ Aquarius (°11,°23) | 11th House

People see your partner as someone very sociable, smart and influential. They likely are very innovative in some way shape or from that others can see and go " They sure are amazing". I've noticed that Juno here also gives a popularity boost to the partner & relationship. To others, your spouse is very creative and have a special drive to them. Your relationship is very friendly in their eyes, but it also can have a better than yours type of feel i.e people may think that you are very different from the usual type of relationship that they see.

Ex: Jay-Z has Juno (23° Aquarius) in Taurus in the 9th house. Beyoncé has Juno (°17 Libra) in Scorpio in the 11th house.

My father has Juno in Scorpio (°1 Aries) in the 11th house. My mom is a very friendly person and also has this youthfulness to her; young at heart. She's quite talkative too but she's also a doer/planner/a leader especially in social situations.

☾ Pisces (°12,°24) | 12th House

Your partner is seen as a prince or princess. Someone dreamy, polite and sentimental. People will see that they radiate a very delicate aura which can either come from their personality, their facial structure or their personal aesthetics. The knight in shining armor, or the damsel in distress. People will think they are very kind and precious, someone with a good heart. They may look like they are always in some sort of fantasy world of their own. Your relationship will seem like a dream come true. Many people will find your relationship almost too good to be true or may strive to find a relationship like yours. Though they may also have some assumptions about your relationship as well.

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*

Thank you for reading;

@northopalshore

@northopalshore Juno asteroid 2025 all rights reserved.

[fairytaleendingss]

Room for One More?

Chapter 4

Summary: Your heating system breaks and you and the boys have to come up with an unconventional way to combat the cold.

CW: Description/Talk of Chronic Illness, swearing.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Hey everyone! Thanks so much to all of you who have been reading and following along!

I just want to preface this chapter by saying that I am not a doctor nor do I have any personal experience with RA. I have done some research on it but I am definitely not an expert on the condition and I apologize for any inaccuracies that may be present in this story

My goal was to include a condition that mimicked symptoms of Remus' lycanthropy as I feel that is an important part of his character and I wanted to make reference to that. But if anyone reading who has more experience in this area has noticed anything they'd like changed or corrected, feel free to reach out and let me know :).

Otherwise, enjoy the chapter!

--

"Ah, fuck! Damnit!"

You jolted awake at the sound of a crash coming from the kitchen and a slew of curses that followed. A quick glance at your clock on your bedside table told you it was nearing 2am.

Everyone should've been long asleep by now in your apartment but that didn't always mean they were. You'd grown accustomed over the last few weeks to being woken up at odd hours by your noisy roommates watching international sporting matches on TV or attempting to cook an unnecessarily complicated late night snack.

This voice, however, you were not particularly used to hearing at this time of night.

You rolled out of bed, pulling on a robe as the harsh winter air hit you. You reminded yourself to ask Sirius about the heating in the morning.

Then you tiptoed out in the hall, a light flutter of concern in your stomach, to see what all the fuss was about.

You peaked around the corner to see a pajama clad Remus, leaning against the kitchen counter, a hand pressed into his forehead and eyes clamped shut in frustration. There was a wheat bag discarded on the kitchen floor beside him.

You approached cautiously, like you were approaching a wild animal. Then you cleared your throat lightly so as not to startle him.

He looked up, hurriedly trying to regain his composure.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," he muttered bashfully, as if he was a child who'd been caught sneaking cookies after bedtime.

"It's fine," you gave him a tight lipped smile. "Is everything okay?"

He huffed and rolled his eyes, only this time you could tell that his frustrations weren't directed towards you.

"Yeah, I just have this... thing." He stumbled over his wording, clearly embarrassed about whatever was going on. "It's called RA. It's a type of arthritis. The symptoms get worse in the cold weather. I was just trying to heat up my pack but my fingers aren't working properly."

Your brows furrowed as a jolt of sympathy washed over you. It was no secret that you and Remus didn't have the most friendly of relationships but you still felt for him nonetheless.

"Well, here," you said gently as you moved towards him. "Let me help."

You lifted the wheat bag from the floor and placed it into the microwave. You expected some form of protest from the man beside you but were surprised when he stepped aside in compliance.

"Thank you," he muttered distantly. You expected that on another occasioned he may have rejected the assistance, especially from you. From what you knew of Remus, he was headstrong and independent, almost to a fault. However, tonight you could tell he was exhausted and probably in a lot of pain.

He leaned back on the counter as the microwave began to turn and a low humming filled the room. In the low light, you could make out the lines of his face and the dark circles beneath his eyes. He looked slightly older than 23, you observed.

It seemed as thought the stressed of life had worn him down. Yet even at 2am with his hair crumpled from sleep and his eyes weary, he was still devastatingly handsome.

"If it's not out of turn to ask, how long has this been going on?"

"A while, since I was a teenager, at least. Maybe before that. I was diagnosed at 16 but I've had some level of aches and pains as long as I can remember."

You grimaced. "I'm sorry. That must have made things hard for you."

He shrugged in response. “It’s okay usually. I mean, I can deal with it most of the time. It’s just when I have these flare ups that it becomes a problem.”

“You’ve never mentioned it before.”

He sighed. “I don’t like to make an ordeal out of it if I can avoid it.”

You could tell from the look in his eyes that he was uncomfortable. You assumed he didn’t bring it up on purpose so as to not seem weak or needy.

“Well I hope you feel better soon,” you told him gently.

The microwave beeped and you removed the heat pack. You’re fingers brushed as you passed it too him.

“Thank you, really.”

He gave you a small smile which you couldn’t help but return.

“Don’t mention it.”

Going back to bed, you felt a little lighter. Things were far from perfect in your relationship with Remus but tonight had felt like progress. Who knows, maybe you were finally on the verge of a breakthrough with him.

Maybe soon you’d actually be able to become friends.

The thought comforted you as you drifted back off to sleep.

—

Stepping out of bed in the morning felt like stepping straight into a freezer. You shivered immediately and put your robe on. When that still wasn't enough to shield you from the cold, you pulled your fluffy blanket off the end of the bed before waddling out into the living room looking like a medieval peasant.

"Yep, this thing's buggered," you heard Sirius say as you stepped out into the living area.

"What's buggered?"

He looked up at you from where he was crouched in the corner of the room.

"The radiator," he replied, tapping it with his knuckle. "I'll call the landlord about it but he's a right git so It might be some time before he bothers to get it looked at."

"Well, I suppose we'll all just have to freeze to death then," James teased. "What a shame. I was really looking forward to New Years."

"You'd probably hold out a little longer if you ever bothered to put a shirt on," Remus deadpanned from his spot on the sofa. He was half listening to the conversation while also clearly immersed in a book.

James was standing in the kitchen pouring himself a bowl of cereal, his bare chest on display, showing off his perfectly chiseled abs.

"Oh come on Remus. Admit it, you know you love the view."

He sent his friend a wink as he rounded the counter and came to flop down beside him on the couch. He was met with an eyeroll in response.

"Sorry to interrupt the fun," you murmured. "But seriously, what are we going to do about the heating? I'm freezing."

Sirius stood up, looking at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Well, you know, we could always cuddle for warmth."

"Ha-ha. Very funny Sirius," you scoffed but the suggestion had James sitting up straight, coming very close to sloshing his bowl of cereal all over his lap.

"You know that's not actually such a bad idea!"

You raised a brow at him. "You can't be serious."

"I'm not Sirius, actually, I'm James," he teased. "But I'm not joking about this idea! We all have the day off today don't we? Why don't we all grab our bedspreads and we can huddle up on the couch and spend the day watching Christmas movies!"

His eyes were bright like a little kid's and you couldn't help but smile in return.

"Okay. That sounds like fun."

"Hey, it'll be like those sleepovers we had at your Mum's place back in high-school!" Sirius exclaimed.

"What about you, Rem?" he turned to his friend. "You in?"

The boy looked between the three of you for a moment as if considering the offer.

"I really should be studying today."

James groaned, clapping him on the shoulder. "Come on! It'll be fun."

He stood up, closing his book and began to retreat down the hallway.

"Sorry, guys. I can't today. You all enjoy though."

With that he was gone, the door of his bedroom falling shut behind him.

James sighed but it was quickly replaced by his usual lopsided smile. "Oh well! Let's get going then."

--

It wasn't long after when you found yourself situated on the couch beside Sirius, with James on his other side, practically swaddled in blankets. James had made you all teas and a large array of snacks were splayed out on the coffee table, however, none of you were willing to poke a hand out of your cocoon to reach for them.

You all decided to start with Elf (which James had suggested as his favourite Christmas film) and work your way through the list of classics.

Laughter emitted through the air as you watched Buddy the Elf discover New York city. However, you noticed the way that Sirius glanced down the hall towards Remus' closed door every so often, as if he was disappointed that Remus wasn't there to enjoy the fun with you.

You couldn't help but feel slightly guilty at the situation. You felt responsible for Remus choosing not to spend the day with his two best friends. You were sure if it wasn't for your participation he wouldn't have hesitated to agree to the day's events.

You had thought that last night had been progress but now you weren't so sure. Remus, for whatever reason, still hadn't warmed up to you, despite not knowing what you did to warrant his reaction and all the attempts you'd made at a peace offering. Whatever it was, it was starting to really frustrate you.

You tried to wipe the thought from your mind as the movie progressed, instead enjoying the time with the two boys you did get along with.

By the time the end credits were rolling, you'd almost forgotten all about your plight with Remus and were just enjoying the laughter that rang through the air at some of the commentary Sirius had made throughout the film.

"Alright! What's next on the list?" James called, leaning forward to grab the remote.

“I vote Home Alone!” You chimed in.

Sirius sent you an odd look. “What? Home Alone isn’t a Christmas movie.”

James gasped and you flashed him a dramatic look of mock offence.

“Yes it absolutely is!” James argued.

“Yeah, the best one at that,” you declared.

“No it’s not! It’s just a movie that happens to be set at Christmas time. That doesn’t make it a Christmas movie!”

You rolled your eyes. “Sirius, that’s literally the entire criteria for what a Christmas movie is.”

James shook his head at his friend. “Yeah! Next you’ll be claiming that Die Hard isn’t a Christmas movie either!”

Sirius looked at him with a deadpan expression. “It’s not.”

James put a hand on his chest and pretended to faint at the notion.

“How dare you! Die Hard is a fabulous Christmas movie!”

“Okay, now you’ve gone too far!”

Sirius threw his hands up in surrender. “Okay okay, fine. Let’s watch Home Alone.”

You smiled at him. “Good, I knew you’d come to your senses.”

James chucked in response as he put the movie.

You nestled down into your blanket nest, feeling a shiver run through you as the opening credits began.

“Are you cold, love?” Sirius leaned down, almost whispering the words into your ear.

“Just a little,” you mumbled. “But really it’s fine.”

“Well that won’t do!” He shook his head playfully. “Here!”

He stood up from the sofa, gesturing for you to shuffle over. When you did, he sat back down on your other side, slinging an arm around your shoulders. James, who was now to your right, pulled your curled up knees into his lap so that you were sandwiched between the two boys.

You felt your face heat up as you sat there, surrounded by their gentle embrace. You hoped they were too distracted with the movie to notice the way your pulse began to climb.

“Feeling better now?” Sirius murmured into your hair. A chill ran up your spine but this one you knew wasn’t from the cold.

“Much,” you murmured nestling your head back against his warm chest.

You felt it rumble as he let out a chuckle, rubbing and hand up and down your arm soothingly.

—

About halfway through the film, you were interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open. Three sets of eyes looked up to see Remus shuffling rather bashfully into the room.

He was dressed in a large knitted jumper and long brown pants but even under all the layers, he was visibly shivering. You weren’t surprised. Those bedrooms were like ice boxes.

“Do you mind if I join you?” He asked quietly, scratching the back of his neck.

You smirked in response.

“Hmm, sorry. I'm not sure of there's any room left,” Sirius teased.

“Come on, Sirius, don’t be mean. He looks freezing!” James exclaimed, lifting up the blanket and gesturing Remus to join you under it.

Sirius rolled his eyes.

“I’m just kidding. Of course you can join. Here, sit, I’ll make you a tea.”

Sirius stood up abruptly, heading into the kitchen and opening a space beside you for Remus on the couch.

He looked hesitant at first, as if he wasn’t sure if you would want him with you, but you gave him a small smile and lifted up your blanket.

He sat down then, sighing as he nestled under the warm covers and you splayed the bed-spread over his lap.

Sirius returned moments later with fresh cups of tea for the four of you and plonked himself down beside Remus. You noticed the way the taller boy leaned into him, almost as if they were unconsciously pulled towards each other.

Sirius reached out a hand and softly rubbed the other boy’s knee. You raked your eyes away from the scene focusing back onto the movie. But every so often you couldn’t help but watched the way they drew together, like they were puzzle pieces perfectly made to fit into each others embrace.

It made you feel odd, and you didn’t quite know why. You had no reason to be jealous and you weren’t even fully sure who there was to be jealous of. But the feeling in your stomach had become all too familiar over the recent weeks.

You moved closer to James, snuggling in to his side.

—

Several hours, and four movies later, the sun had faded outside over the horizon. The room had become dark, the only light coming from the flickering TV screen as the Polar Express played.

Sirius sat up to stretch and looked around. It was then that he noticed you and James, fast asleep, your head leaning against his chest and one of his arms thrown lazily over your shoulder.

His glasses were askew and your cheek was smushed against the front of his t-shirt, hair falling across your face.

A smirk blossomed on Sirius’s lips at the sight and he gently nudged Remus in the ribs and gestured towards the two of you.

He raised a brow. “They look… uh, comfortable.”

Sirius chuckled. “That they do.”

He stood up from the couch, shedding his blanket and pulling his phone from his pocket to take a snapshot of the two of you, which he definitely intended to send to your friends.

“Leave them be,” Remus chided, grasping the boy by the arm and pulling him back down onto the couch.

“What? It’s cute. And it will be perfect blackmail material. It’s a win win.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “You’re cruel. You know that?”

“I’m wonderful, thank you very much.”

Remus shook his head fondly. Then he glanced over again as you shifted in your sleep. Without thinking, he leaned over and tugged the blanket up where it had fallen off your shoulder.

Then he sat back, nestling back into Sirius’ side. The other boy raised a brow at the display but chose to say nothing as he wrapped an arm around his friend and let the movie continue.

—

Taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy

@navs-bhat

@shushbruv

@magicwithaknife

@eeviee4

@notapoetjustscar

@gugggu6gvai

@robertsmithclone

@ilovesugurugeto69

[zorobraun]

ex husband ghost at your kiddo’s football game

“love, i’ll find us a seat while you wait for simon.” your boyfriend says in the most calm and mature way possible, making you nod with a little smile. you hate when he calls you ‘love’ — memories of when you and your ex husband were together start filling up your mind. you quickly shake it off, though, clearing your throat as you wait for simon’s arrival. your son grabs your hand, looking up at you with a smile.

“mom, where’s dad?” theo sounds excited to see his father, as if it was rare to see him. simon, however, is a very involved dad in your child’s life, he’s never absent; which is obviously, a very good thing. as for your relationship with him… the two of you still get along together. but at the same time, you still put up a fight with simon every now and then, just because you can’t really let go of your resentment for him — you’re not proud of it, though.

“i guess he’s here, baby.” you answer in a playful tone as you smile at simon from afar. he’s walking awkwardly towards the two of you, all alone. simon sighs quietly as he approaches theo with a big smile. “hey there, champion.” he greets his son with a messy stroke on his hair, before crouching in front of him. “you ready to win?” simon grins as the kid nod with a happy smile. “that’s my guy!” he chuckles, picking theo up as they hug tightly. you just stand there with a genuine soft smile on your lips.

“let me say hi to mom, right?” simon says to theo in a playful soft manner as he turns his gaze at you. “hi, simon.” you say with a friendly smile, staring at him. simon hugs you with his free arm, while the other is busy holding theo. he strokes your back gently, kissing your cheek. your heart misses a beat for some reason, you hate that simon has always been too touchy for your liking. “what’s up?” he grins.

“where’s your girlfriend? we were expecting her.” you say with a sincere smile, since his girlfriend is a lovely woman that treats your son very well, just like your boyfriend. “we broke up.” simon chuckles, shrugging. he doesn’t seem to care at all. “what? why? just like that?” you frown, curious. theo alternates his gaze between his mom and dad. “it didn’t work out.” he mutters in a tired tone. what he wanted to say was: if it isn’t with you, it won’t be with anyone. “i… i think i’m better off alone.” simon adds with a half hearted smile. you swallow hard, nodding softly. you sure can’t keep talking about this subject with him.

“let’s go, then. it’s time, huh?” you say with a happy smile while you stroke theo’s cheek. he kisses your cheek before wrapping his tiny arms around simon’s neck. you chuckle quietly as the three of you head to the football field, since the game’s about to start. simon puts theo on the ground with a smile. “good luck, buddy. you’re a champion either way, don’t forget that. you make me the proudest dad in the entire world. i’m sure mommy is the proudest mom in the entire world too.” simon smiles sweetly as he strokes theo’s hair. “i truly am. don’t be nervous, baby. just do what you do best.” you smile too, kissing his cheek. “i love you, dad. i love you, mom.” he replies with a chuckle before waving at the two of you as he runs into the field with the team.

“where’s your man?” simon looks at you with a side smirk, mockingly. you roll your eyes, chuckling. you both keep walking to the bleachers to meet with your boyfriend. “he’s… there.” you point at your boyfriend with a chuckle. he’s on his phone, waiting for the two of you. “of course he is.” simon mutters with an annoyed chuckle, more to himself than to you. however, you hear it anyway. you sigh heavily, ignoring his words. “hey, simon!” your boyfriend greets him with a smile and a shake of hands. “here, i saved a place for us.” he adds. simon nods with a smile as the two of you sit next to each other. you’re in the middle. and you want to die.

“i bought a bottle of water for you, love.” your boyfriend says as he caresses your thigh. you smile nervously as you grab the bottle, swallowing hard. “thanks, babe.” you mutter, drinking it instantly. simon briefly looks at your boyfriend’s hand on your thigh and he sighs quietly, licking his lips. he looks at the ground, wondering why the hell he’s still sitting next to you, when he could be sitting anywhere else. simon tries to be mature when it comes to you, but he can’t, because he knows that you were the one who asked for a divorce, when all he wanted was to be by your side and try to make things right again.

the game finally starts, making simon clear his throat and shake these awful thoughts off his mind. he focus on theo. you focus on simon’s knee touching yours. god, you feel so bad, so guilty. why are you even paying attention to simon’s knee when your boyfriend’s hand is caressing your thigh? or when your son is on the field, during an important game? you’ve never changed. it has always been about simon. it’s all for him. all you ever do, all you ever think about. you sigh heavily, but you regret doing so when both of them stare at you.

“you good, love?” your boyfriend asks with concern in his voice. simon almost passes out when he hears this stupid man calling you ‘love’ again. he sounds pathetic. simon clears his throat while looking away, trying to focus on theo’s game. “y-yeah.” you reply silently, touching your boyfriend’s thigh in a reassuring way. god, simon just wants to take your hand away from this asshole’s thigh and hold it to himself. he can’t keep doing this anymore. “i think i’ll watch the game from the grid, i can’t see theo from up here.” simon says as he avoid your eyes.

“you’re lying, but whatever.” you mutter with a dry chuckle, as you both still don’t look at each other. your boyfriend gets tense. “don’t even start, y/n.” simon replies in an annoyed tone, shaking his head impatiently. “you’re such an asshole, i swear. you just can’t have a good time in family.” you roll your eyes, you just realize now that you’re standing next to him as you two start a fight again. “oh, so he’s family now?” simon frowns in disbelief as he looks at your boyfriend briefly before looking back at you.

“i came here because i love my son and i’ll always be an example of father figure in his life. so don’t you say to me that i can’t have a good time in family. and by family, i mean us. you, me and theo, only.” simon explains with anger in his voice, even though his tone is low, he hates to make a scene in public. you sigh impatiently as you close your eyes for a second. you grab simon’s arm and lead him out of the bleachers so the two of you can argue in private. “your boyfriend will never be a part of the family, whether you like it or not.” simon pulls away from your touch just to grab your arm and push you against the wall in a very subtle, gentle way.

your face are inches away from his as you swallow hard, trying to control your breathing. it’s been months since the last time you’ve been this close to him. “you’re too close, simon.” you remind him in an annoyed whisper. he stares at your lips before locking eyes with you. “i’m sorry.” he swallows hard before pulling away. you finally can breathe normally. “listen, i understand that my boyfriend will never be a part of our family, but he’s my family too, whether you like it or not.” you say in a firm tone. simon just seems even worse now.

“you can’t be serious.” he chuckles dryly as he stares at you from a certain distance. “are you, by any chance, willing to marry him?” he frowns, crossing his arms in disbelief. “what if i am?” you bite back, crossing your arms in annoyance. “then you’re dumber than i thought.” he mocks at you with a dry smile. “you know what, y/n? just marry him, get it over with. it would save me from a lot of stress.” simon licks his lips nervously as he sighs. “we can’t keep fighting every time we see each other, simon.” you sigh defeatedly, stepping in his personal space.

“no, we can’t keep seeing each other.” he replies in a low tone, looking into your eyes. “or else… you might be my downfall.” simon adds in a sad mocking tone. “just go back to your boyfriend, y/n. he’s waiting for you.” he points at your boyfriend with his head, feeling defeated, for some reason. you look at your boyfriend’s worried face. suddenly, you get angry. it’s not his right to watch you and the father of your child argue about important stuff. or not so important.

simon gives you one last look before walking away. he regrets putting up a fight with you this time, for stupid reasons. for his jealousy. maybe he should accept the fact that you’re over him, even though he’s right where you left him. simon stares at the field with empty eyes, watching theo score a goal. he can’t help but smile, a sad one, but still. theo is what keeps him going. you watch simon from afar as your boyfriend hugs you tightly.

the game ends and you walk towards the field to see theo. you told your boyfriend to stay away from it, because you don’t want simon to lose it again. theo sees you and simon from afar and starts running towards his parents. you both crouch to give him a family hug. “i told you!” simon chuckles with a huge smile as theo keeps squeezing the both of you. “congratulations, baby.” you kiss theo’s forehead. “i saw that goal, little one. you’re a professional.” simon adds with a caring playful tone in his voice. “you and mom, together… was my motivation.” theo says with a lovely expression, sweat running down his forehead.

the statement makes simon’s smile fade away, just like yours. you both look at each other, then at theo. “we’ll always be there for you.” you say with a soft smile, caressing his cheek. “always.” simon adds, smiling weakly. you both stand up, avoiding each other’s eyes. “mom, can i sleep at dad’s house tonight?” theo looks up at you with a smile. simon chuckles quietly, squeezing theo’s hand gently. “of course, my love.” you reply with a smile, looking at simon briefly.

“i’ll miss you, though.” you say in a playful tone, caressing his hair. “i’ll bring him home tomorrow night, if that’s okay with you.” simon looks at you with an empty expression. you nod in silence. you’re both staring at each other with so much resentment. simon seems to constantly swallow all of the things he wants to say to you, just like your words keep getting stuck in your throat. “i’m sorry for earlier.” simon breaks the silence, still staring at you. theo frowns slightly. you press your lips together, holding back a cry or something among those lines.

“you know that i’ll always care for you. i’ll always want to see you happy, even without me being a part of your happiness. i’ll always love you, you’ll always be the second most important person in my life, because the first is our child.” simon adds with a sad smile as he caress your cheek softly. “s-simon, stop.” you mutter in a tremble voice as you smile sadly. “you know that i feel the same. you’ll always be a part of my life. of me. so please, let’s just… work together. let’s stop arguing over the stupidest things.” you’re tearing up and you think it’s embarassing.

“don’t cry, love.” he says in a firm but soft tone, you and theo can notice all of his love for you. when simon calls you ‘love’, it feels right. his hand is still on your face, caressing your soft cheek. “shh, it’s okay…” simon pulls you into a tight hug, stroking your back gently. theo is confused but he hates to see his mom cry, so he hugs your legs as well. “i’ve got you.” he mutters with a mournful voice as he places a sweet kiss on your forehead. you pull slightly away with a little smile as you nod weakly. simon wipes your tears with both of his thumbs as you caress his arm.

“drive safe.” you say as you look into his eyes, squeezing his arm gently. “of course. we’re gonna have a lot of fun, right?” simon looks at theo with a small smile, picking him up. “yes, mom. don’t worry.” theo reassures you with a kiss on your cheek. “stop being sad, mom. it’s okay.” he adds with a concerned look, but he has a weak smile on his lips. you chuckle quietly, pouting. “you’re just the sweetest, huh? just like your father.” you cup theo’s face, kissing his nose. simon’s heart misses a beat with your words.

“i’ll see you tomorrow. take care.” simon looks at you, smiling half heartedly. you nod, smiling back. “you too. i love you guys.” you sigh quietly, pulling your hands away from theo. simon starts walking away as they both wave playfully at you. “love you, mommy!” theo yells, making you laugh quietly. “love you more!” you yell back, blowing him a kiss. your boyfriend appears next to you after a few seconds, making you smile at him.

“dad, why didn’t you tell mom that you love her too?” theo says next to simon’s ear, since they’re already in the car. “because she knows it, buddy.” simon chuckles softly as he stares at his son with a raised eyebrow. “but… if she loves you and you love her back, why aren’t you together?” theo frowns, touching simon’s face. “because… she loves me as a friend. mommy’s in love with someone else, now.” simon tries to put it in a simple way, theo seems surprised, but he ends up nodding. “then who is your love, dad?” theo scratches the back of his neck.

“still your mom.” simon chuckles sadly. “but don’t tell her that, kiddo. it’s our secret.” he says in a playful tone as he tickles theo.

[nayziiz]

I don’t know if you taking any request, but I would love one where reader and Carlos share birthday and he is turning 30 and reader is turning 26, and they have a surprised birthday party but after a while they disappear because they want to be alone, maybe running to the beach where things turn hot, but at the same time super cute

GIFT | CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (Y/N)

Warnings: None, just a lot of softness

Author’s note: Thank you for this request! I loved writing this. I actually had a birthday-themed one shot planned for Carlos down the line, so I’ve meshed the two together. Hope you like it, anon!

The Sainz family were big on celebrating birthdays, always were, and probably always would be as the grandkids began emerging. From grand feasts to meticulously decorated cakes, their gatherings were legendary in their circle. They embraced every reason to celebrate life, and birthdays were at the top of that list.

Carlos Sainz, however, felt differently. Ever since he was a child, he found the hullabaloo of birthday celebrations overwhelming. It wasn't that he hated his birthday—he appreciated the love and thoughtfulness behind it—but the anticipation, the parties, and the surprises weren't his thing. His family, exuberant and enthusiastic, never quite understood his reluctance, though they respected it as best they could.

That all changed when he met Y/N.

Y/N was the embodiment of birthday joy. She revelled in the surprises, the laughter, and the attention that came with her special day. Every year, she looked forward to the creative and sometimes outrageous plans her friends concocted. The excitement of not knowing what was in store made her feel alive. Birthdays, to her, were magical, a time when the world seemed to celebrate her existence.

When Carlos and Y/N started dating, his mother made a special effort to make Y/N feel welcomed and cherished. She saw in Y/N the same spark she had in herself for birthday celebrations and went all out to ensure Y/N felt like part of the family.

Carlos couldn't help but be amazed by the twist of fate that had brought Y/N into his life. What were the chances he’d meet someone, fall hopelessly in love with her, and discover they shared the same birthday? It seemed like destiny had a sense of humour, pairing two people who were polar opposites in their approach to celebrating their day.

At first, Carlos found it challenging to reconcile their differences. Y/N’s infectious enthusiasm for birthdays was a stark contrast to his quiet appreciation. Yet, as the years went by and Y/N moved to Monaco to be with Carlos, they found a balance. They began spending their birthdays with the Sainz family, where Y/N's excitement was met with warmth and Carlos’s quieter nature was respected.

During their long-term relationship, it quickly became a friendly competition to see who would get up first on their shared birthday morning to make pancakes, decorate the apartment with streamers, and get the cakes ready. Those mornings were some of their most cherished memories, filled with laughter, love, and a playful spirit that defined their bond.

The tradition started one early morning a few years into their relationship. Y/N had woken up extra early, determined to surprise Carlos with a breakfast of fluffy pancakes and a kitchen festooned with vibrant streamers. When Carlos awoke to the smell of vanilla and the sight of his favourite breakfast, his heart swelled with warmth. The joy on Y/N’s face as she presented the spread was infectious, and he knew this was a moment he wanted to repeat.

The next year, Carlos decided to turn the tables. He set his alarm even earlier, sneaking out of bed with the stealth of a ninja. He whipped up pancakes, decorated the apartment in Y/N’s favourite colours, and had everything ready before she woke up. Her surprised and delighted reaction was priceless, and thus, their annual birthday competition was born.

Each year, they tried to outdo each other in creativity and effort. Some mornings, Y/N would weave intricate garlands of flowers along the walls and ceilings, while other times, Carlos would arrange for balloons that played a soft melody when touched. They would take turns crafting the most delightful pancake designs, from heart shapes to animals, making breakfast a feast for both the eyes and the stomach.

One particularly memorable year, Y/N had managed to enlist the help of their closest friends to create a pancake buffet with every topping imaginable. She had transformed their living room into a whimsical birthday wonderland overnight, complete with a makeshift pancake bar. Carlos, despite his best efforts, found himself wonderfully defeated that year, laughing as he marvelled at the sheer extravagance of her plan.

In return, Carlos spent months planning the ultimate birthday surprise the following year. He created a treasure hunt that began with a simple pancake breakfast but led to hidden clues throughout their apartment, each one revealing another cherished memory or inside joke. The final clue brought Y/N to a small, beautifully decorated room where Carlos had set up a projector to play a montage of their happiest moments together.

These mornings were more than just a friendly competition; they were a testament to their love and the lengths they would go to make each other feel special. Each year, they created new memories, their playful rivalry a celebration of their relationship’s enduring joy and mutual adoration.

For the first time in five years, Carlos’s family could not be with them for their birthday. A new baby niece had arrived, and naturally, all attention was focused on the newest family member. Carlos didn't mind; he adored his niece and understood the excitement surrounding her. The decision to stay home and celebrate his 30th and her 26th birthdays alone was a welcome change of pace, a chance to create new memories in the comfort of their own space.

The night before their birthday, they sat together on the couch, wrapped in a cosy blanket, reminiscing about their past birthday adventures.

“It feels strange not having the family around,” Y/N said, leaning her head on Carlos's shoulder. “But I’m excited to have a quiet day, just the two of us.”

“We can do whatever we want. No elaborate plans, no fuss. Just us,” Carlos nodded, a smile playing on his lips.

When the clock struck midnight, Y/N grinned and sprang up.

“Happy Birthday!” she exclaimed, kissing him gently. Carlos returned the kiss, his heart full of love for the woman who had transformed his view of birthdays.

The morning sun streamed through the windows, waking them naturally. They both stirred, blinking sleepily at each other.

“Truce?” Y/N suggested, laughing. “Let’s make breakfast together this time.”

Carlos agreed, and they headed to the kitchen, side by side. They mixed the pancake batter, playfully arguing over the best way to cook them. The kitchen soon filled with the comforting aroma of pancakes and coffee. As they sat down to eat, Carlos reached under the table and pulled out a small gift.

“For you,” he said, handing it to Y/N. She unwrapped it to find a delicate bracelet, each charm representing a shared memory or inside joke from their years together.

“It’s perfect, Carlos. Thank you.”  Tears welled up in her eyes as she hugged him tightly.

It was wishful thinking that they would have a quiet day to themselves. Late in the morning, Carlos got a call from his manager, Carlos Onoro, asking if they could join him and his partner for a celebratory lunch, just the four of them. Carlos glanced at Y/N, who gave an understanding nod and a smile. They both knew how important these relationships were, and besides, a lunch out sounded nice. So, they got dressed and drove down to a beach-side restaurant to meet.

They should have known what was waiting for them. The cars parked around the restaurant should have been a dead giveaway. As they approached the entrance, Carlos and Y/N noticed a few familiar vehicles but didn't think much of it, attributing it to coincidence. When they walked in, however, they were met with a thunderous cheer.

“Surprise!”

Everyone screamed and shouted in jubilation for the couple sharing a birthday. Streamers and balloons adorned the ceiling, and a large banner reading “Happy Birthday Carlos and Y/N!” hung prominently on the wall. Y/N quickly cowered under Carlos's arm, their faces both flushing with surprise and delight. Neither had expected so many of their friends; not once did surprise party bells go off in their heads.

Carlos Onoro, with a mischievous grin, stepped forward and embraced them both.

“You didn’t think we’d let you two be alone on your birthday!” Carlos Onoro exclaimed as he enveloped the couple in his embrace. “The big 3-0, how’s it feel dating an old man?”

Carlos chuckled, shaking his head. Before he could respond, Y/N interjected with a playful grin.

“Consider me pleased dating a silver fox, then,” she teased as she gazed lovingly at him, her eyes sparkling with affection. Their friends laughed, and Carlos couldn't help but blush, feeling both embarrassed and touched by her words.

“Well, if I’m a silver fox, then I guess I’m pretty lucky to have such a beautiful partner,” he replied, kissing her forehead softly.

Their friends gathered around, offering hugs, well-wishes, and playful jabs about how surprised they looked. The restaurant was filled with familiar faces, friends from Monaco, family members who had managed to slip away, and even some colleagues from Carlos’s racing world. The air buzzed with excitement and love.

Carlos's eyes scanned the room, settling on the carefully arranged decorations and the table laden with their favourite foods. It was clear that a lot of thought and effort had gone into planning this party. He turned to Y/N, who was already tearing up from the overwhelming affection surrounding them.

After a few hours of chatting, eating, and drinking, Carlos was exhausted from the attention. The constant stream of conversations and well-wishers had been wonderful but draining. He scanned the room, searching for Y/N amidst the laughter and animated discussions. Spotting her laughing with a group of friends, he made his way over.

“Hey,” he said softly, touching her arm. “Can I steal you for a minute?”

Y/N turned to him, immediately sensing his need for a break.

“Of course,” she said, taking his hand. She excused herself from the group, smiling apologetically at her friends.

“If I hear someone say happy birthday one more time-” he moaned into her neck as he pulled her against him, squeezing her butt in the process. “Want to get out of here for a bit?”

She nodded, her heart beating a little faster. Hand in hand, they slipped out of the restaurant and made their way to the beach. The cool sand under their feet and the gentle sound of the waves created a perfect escape from the lively party.

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, the moonlight casting a silvery glow on the water. Eventually, they reached a secluded spot where they could still see the lights of the beach house but felt like they were in their own little world.

“Can you believe we've been celebrating our birthdays together for five years now?” Carlos turned to face her, his expression soft and contemplative.

“I can't imagine celebrating it any other way,” She smiled, looking up at him.

Without another word, Carlos closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a tender kiss. It was a moment filled with unspoken emotions, a blend of passion and affection that they cultivated for years.

“The world wouldn't be this bright without you, you know?” Carlos told her, causing her to blush.

“Happy birthday, my love,” she replied softly, running a hand through his lush black hair. The touch was tender, and it sent a comforting warmth through both of them.

“I don’t hate hearing that as much when it comes from you,” Carlos smiled, his eyes twinkling with affection.

“And you, Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro and whatever else makes up your very long name, are my favourite birthday gift,” she stated, her eyes twinkling with playful affection.

“Well, when you put it that way, I guess I'll have to live up to the title,” Carlos chuckled, the sound warm and genuine.

“You already do, every single day,” she laughed, leaning in to kiss him softly. 

“You know, today didn’t turn out exactly how we planned, but I wouldn’t change a thing. Being with you makes everything perfect,” Carlos held her close, feeling the deep connection they shared.

“Agreed,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “Here’s to many more birthdays together, filled with love and surprises.”

They stood there, the cool ocean breeze wrapping around them, and shared a quiet moment of understanding and gratitude. The love they had for each other was palpable, a beacon that made every celebration special, no matter the circumstances.

“Shall we head back inside?” Carlos asked eventually, his voice soft.

“Yes, let's,” Y/N replied, taking his hand.

They rejoined the party, the energy and joy of their friends and family enveloping them once more. As the evening continued, Carlos and Y/N found themselves frequently stealing glances at each other, sharing secret smiles and touches that spoke of their unspoken bond.

The night wound down, and as they finally made their way home, they felt a deep sense of fulfilment. They changed into their pyjamas and climbed into bed, wrapping themselves in each other’s warmth.

“Thank you for making today so special,” Carlos looked into Y/N’s eyes, his heart full.

“Every day with you is special. Happy birthday, Carlos,” Y/N smiled, her hand caressing his cheek. 

“Happy birthday, my love,” he whispered back, pulling her close.

With those words, they drifted off to sleep, knowing that no matter what life brought their way, they would always have each other. And that was the greatest gift of all.

[ferie-anon]

🐬 Astro observations🐬

🧺 fire moons being in a earth house is very balanced, making them responsible yet passionate and understanding

🧺 sag risings or having rising in a sag degree may grow out their hair

🧺 scorpio moon in 12th house may listen to rock and punk music to maximize feeling their deep emotions

🧺 mercury in 11th house are viewed as friendly or chill, often seen as a person who is a social butterfly

🧺 gemini sun with fire or air rising being into pop culture. They know the ins and out with the internet and celebrity tea. They live in a burrow on the internet 🫡

🧺 capricorn mercury will not hesitate to ask questions. They be the type to be direct and ask for stuff if they are confused. I like their honest and direct approach.

🧺 Sag + scorpio or leo + scorpio in birthchart = rockstar/musician vibes 🎸

🧺 My friend and I notice scorpio/8th house placements in a guy’s chart tend to do boxing 🥊

🧺 In general heavy scorpio energy in the chart or mars scorpio may tend to work out in general, being physically active due to scorpio’s traditional planet ruler being mars.

🧺 I notice mercury in cardinal signs (aries, cancer, libra) tend to use emojis and gifs a lot to emote in their text messages or to put more meaning into their text.

🧺 It seems like virgo mars tend to try out ballet or pick it up as a hobby. I find it interesting that most of my friends with virgo mars have taken ballet classes before as a child.

🧺 Cancer risings could be seen as nurturing, or having a compassionate and understanding nature, ppl may at times open up to them easily or become friends with them and start talking ab themselves to these individuals becuz they feel comfortable with them.

🧺 Aries moon always seems to have so many mini talents stacked away. It can be anything creative such as music, editing, or artistic. They’re very down to explore hobbies that allow them to express themselves and indulge in creatively.

🧺 I notice the ones with very friendly and bright smiles tend to have heavy gemini energy in their chart. Gemini rising, gemini stellium, 3rd house stellium, etc

🧺 Moon conjunct moon synastry in friends is cute and funny, you guys naturally gravitate towards each others presence and notice any emotions or actions. Like sometimes you guys just stare at each other like 👁️-👁️ and observe each other, and stick together most of the time.

🧺 I notice fire suns with leo in their big 3 sorta give off a “hot cheeto girl” vibe or aura. They may prefer a fierce and bold look, via makeup or clothing style.

🧺 Virgo moon in 4th individuals could be very intuitive, or an intuitive gut instinct.

🧺 Pisces mars/cancer mars, cancer stellium/pisces stellium in men could give off momma’s boy vibes, or they have a close relationship with their mom. Just from wut I’ve observed tho. 👁️^👁️

[rottiens]

◟♡ ˒ cold, ft. gojō satoru

tags. secret relationship, gojo being a terrible attempt of a dad for megumi, she/her pronouns for the reader, the reader has a dress, suggestive, briefly angst. | wc. 3.6K

˒ ਏਓ — notes. this was just an excuse for me to write gojo + cats, but in the end i ended up writing more and more and my god this was quite a roller coaster, i wasn't planning on writing more than 1k and look at me. but i love this trope and i love writing for gojo, he is such a fun character to put into situations

Your mouth drops open mid-sentence as you realize that the person beside you is no longer walking next to you. You stop abruptly to turn on your heels and check where Satoru had gone, only to find him squatting not far from you, a few feet away from the sidewalk. He was making a sound with his tongue and wiggling his fingers in a strange way which makes you drop your head to the side and then causes you to bring your attention to where he is looking.

Almost entering a narrow alley was a cat with fluffy white fur, licking one of his front paws without paying attention to the man who seemed to be begging for some of his affection. Although he didn't have a collar his fur was clean and appeared to be cared for, so you hesitated for a moment as to whether he was a stray or not.

"That's not how you call a cat," you say without moving in your spot.

"You think I don't know how to call a cat?" Satoru asks with an offended tone, raising his eyebrows and looking up at you from below with his sunglasses on the tip of his nose, giving you a flash of his bluish gaze.

"Clearly not, he's not paying attention to you." You go back to watching the animal who had stopped licking himself to sit up and look at you both.

"Good." Satoru stretches his legs again raising his stature above yours and it is you who is now forced to look up at him from below. "You do it then."

Confident in yourself and more than that, eager to show him that you clearly knew what you were doing you move closer to Satoru, positioning yourself at the same distance he was from the cat and mimicking his previous pose you hold onto your own knees to be at a better height with the animal.

"Hi, baby," you greet the cat and Satoru laughs derisively behind you. "Shut up, you're going to scare him," you chastise him through your teeth craning your neck briefly to kill him with your gaze, quickly refocusing on gaining the kitten's attention. "Come here," you ask with a smile, reaching out as your fingers make a gentle brushing motion against each other and your mouth makes a "pspst" sound.

With Satoru laughing behind your back and you beginning to lose faith that the cat would move from his spot, he magically begins to do so slowly to both of your surprise. When he takes the first steps towards you both fall silent, becoming statues. Satoru squats down once again to pet the cat once he is close enough.

The cat shrewdly sniffs your fingertips and then squeezes his body into them giving you permission to pet his head and ears.

You look at Satoru with a victorious smile, and you know he is trying hard not to pout. "I told you," you say triumphantly. He knows you're good with animals, unlike him, who never had contact with any pets as a child or as an adult. You grew up in a house where two stray cats and a dog were adopted, you always knew how to approach them and gain their trust.

But, of course, he's not going to admit defeat so easily. "Let him come to me!" he exclaims.

"I'm not holding him," you defend yourself, never taking your eyes off Satoru.

"Then stop petting him," he insists.

"Don't tell me what to do," you reply with a frown. "Besides, he's very soft. Of course you are. Look at you, your hair is so clean."

You both continue to hold each other's gaze, and although there is a friendly competition between you, there is also an affection and complicity that has formed over time. Breaking contact with your eyes he moves closer to the cat, so slowly that he seems to still be in the same place, stretching his fingers uncertainly.

Just as Satoru turns off his infinity and lets the cat sniff his hand, just inches away from touching him a motorcycle crosses the street behind you causing the white cat to flee into the alley where he was before.

You are the first to get up, disappointed. "You scared him off."

"No," he says.

A smile that was beginning to grow on your lips widens. "What?"

"I'm not doing this today." Satoru starts walking in front of you, leaving you standing where seconds before you were engaged in approaching the small animal.

"Do what?" you laugh again, starting to follow him.

"You know damn well what," he growls, soon enough reaching the corner where you must turn left.

"Baby." You call out to him, running a little bit so you can catch up and the soles of your shoes create an echo in the empty street. Your hand slips on his forearm but his infinity prevents you from touching him directly. "Turn off your technique."

"I don't want to."

"You don't want to hold my hand?" you ask, with a tone of exaggeration and indignation. He grunts, inevitably tugging at your body as you cross the street.

"I don't like it when you tease me."

"I think you look cute when you get mad."

Satoru stops his steps suddenly turning to look at you. His attention is on your lips.

"Don't tease me," he repeats more quietly, exchanging glances between your eyes and your mouth.

"I don't," you reply in the same tone in which you would share a secret, looking at him with the eyes of an innocent dove.

The store bell indicating that someone is leaving or entering echoes behind you, though it is not important enough to make you turn away from each other even though you are too close to be in public. At that moment you feel him turn off his infinity and your fingers slowly sink into his skin. Satoru allows you to touch him, skin to skin, droplets of sweat from your palms clinging to him. The sensation along with the idea that you are the only one who can touch him always sends a rush of euphoria down your spine.

"I want to kiss you so badly right now," he confesses.

"Do it." You provoke him, pulling yourself closer to him.

Satoru looks over your head to confirm the area. It was like any other summer day, there was practically no one on the street because the tourists were either at the beach or in the tourist area of the city. Besides Satoru's apartment is in a very quiet zone where you hardly see any cars passing by and even more rare is to see passers-by under the hot sun.

Returning to you, Satoru wastes no time in grabbing your cheeks allowing you to feel the hardness of his big fingers sinking them, making your lips stand out in a forced pout. He then tilts his head to quickly stamp his lips with yours.

"That wasn't a kiss," you complain only seconds before he pulls away. He laughs.

"Don't be greedy," he purrs. Then he turns his back on you to take his hand in yours and walk with you into the store ringing the bell once more.

Like everything else around the area the store is practically empty, except for the blue-haired girl at the register chewing gum who looks both of you up and down.

"Should we grab a basket?" Satoru asks, peering over the shelves.

"No. We came for soup for Megumi, we're not buying anything else." Satoru looks at you in horror, lowering his head until he's sure you're seeing that he's looking at you with judgmental eyes that you'd grown accustomed to and that no longer had any effect on you. "Nope." You repeat again.

You walk over to the area where the instant soups are located, as well as ramen noodles. Satoru grabs a particularly red one, which has a bell pepper of the same color and flames on each side, you snatch it out of his hand and put it back in its place.

"No."

"Huh? They're Megumi's favorite." You give him a judging look.

"No, they’re not," you repeat softly taking two instant shrimp soups and another mushroom soup. "He's sick, leave him alone."

Satoru desists just this once but instead decides to take a soda and a bag of peach candy which you can't say no to, since you're curious to try them too. Near the cash register you grab a handful of cold medicine and wait in silence while the girl in front of you finishes paying, your head resting on Satoru's arm as you mentally hum the summer song playing on the speakers making the place a little bit cozier.

It is only a few seconds later that you realize who the woman in front of you is.

"S-Shoko!" you shout faking a clearly nervous smile, pulling away from Satoru and his body as far as you can. He doesn't flinch and just gives her a smile. "What do you…"

"Cigarettes." She clarifies lifting the package so you can get a better look at it, in one of her hands she also carries a plastic bag with something inside.

"What are you doing on this side of town?" you say laughing, forcing your words not to sound shaky.

"Next." The colorful haired girl calls out to you and you step forward.

"Shoko lives very close to my building," Satoru says placing everything on the counter, picking up a pack of gum he caught a glimpse of to place next to the group of items.

"Did you know that?" you ask between chuckles.

"Yeah- oh, I completely forgot." A hand covers his mouth briefly before he stuffs it back into one of his pockets to reach for his wallet.

"I just… hm. I stopped by to visit Megumi and…"

"I know you're dating," she says downplaying it, then lifts her shoulders. "We all know."

"You know?" That was Satoru, who had taken the bag after paying and thanking.

"It's not like you guys are doing a good job of hiding it." You give Satoru a sidelong glance, your face burning. "Anyway, I hope Megumi recovers soon and you can take him to school again." Shoko adds, opening the door for you to let you out first and you catch the last rays of daylight on your forehead.

With a nod of her head the woman leaves in a different direction from you, waving goodbye with the hand in which she holds the cigarettes and you're almost sure she did it to avoid the same path as you two.

You're sure Satoru feels your gaze on him, piercing his cheek as a lopsided smile stretches his lips. Then he cocks his neck and looks at you smugly. "What's wrong?" you lightly smack his arm tripping over his infinity just in time which makes you angrier.

"It's your fault."

"My fault?"

"You said you didn't want to tell anyone about us because you didn't want it to be awkward but you can't help but make it obvious."

He laughs, slowing his footsteps to keep up with your walk.

"How am I making it obvious?"

"You can't help but touch me and look at me and smile when our eyes meet!"

"I think it's actually your fault," he says and you almost stop dead in your tracks to look at him but you're sure that's what he's after so you ignore him completely speeding up your footsteps. "You're so pretty. I can't help but look at you."

Maybe… you liked hearing him call you pretty and listening to him talk about how he sees you from his point of view, so it's not your fault you're burning from the tip of your nose to the tip of your ears.

"What are we going to do?" you look at him out of the corner of your eye, your voice coming out less defensive.

"I think we're just going to let it flow. I'm tired of pretending we're not together." You want to tell him he didn't even try to disguise it in the first place but you opt to bite your tongue instead.

His fingers reach out to take your hand and even though you're annoyed, annoyed that he's left you all the work of being the mastermind of hiding your "relationship" while he doesn't make the slightest effort to disguise it— you press your fingers against his. You decide not to add anything else. Laughing on a few occasions when he makes an off-hand comment or contributing monosyllables to his monologue.

In the elevator you lean against his arm and it feels good, the proximity, the warmth given off by his body until the metal doors open and this closeness is snatched from you as you are both forced out.

"I know what you're thinking." His voice is like a pin that bursts your thought bubble.

Did he know? Satoru's apartment is a comforting place after struggling under the hot sun out there, the air conditioner sends chills down your bare arms and legs which makes you wonder if it will be the right temperature for Megumi, you have to control your impulses not to go check right away if his fever had gone down. That boy made you feel very protective, after all it was your idea to bring him here so that Satoru can personally take care of him and you can help him too until his cold gets better and then he can go back to training at Jujutsu High.

You mimic Satoru who takes off his shoes at the entrance and then drop the tote bag on one of the sofas relieving yourself a bit of the physical burden.

"What am I thinking?" you say following him into the kitchen, letting your body lean back against the counter.

He takes off his sunglasses and sets them down on the top of the counter. He moves closer to you with narrowed eyes looking you up and down as if he might actually believe he's going to read your thoughts, his hair falling tousled over his forehead and the occasional strand sticking to his skin from water droplets.

"You're thinking how handsome I am." You snort, stifling a laugh and he looks offended, then takes another step closer and shield-like your arms cross at your chest.

"Cold."

"You're thinking about Megumi?"

Yes… but that wasn't exactly what you were worried about.

"Cold."

"…Me?" His arms cage your body against the counter as if to intimidate you, yet you stand your ground, looking him in the eyes at all times.

"Hot." Satoru looks at you carefully, his eyes narrowing again.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Cold."

"Are you sad?"

"Cold."

"Confused?" you remain silent, and he asks again.

"Hot," you reply, rolling your eyes.

"Is it because of Shoko?"

"I don't want to play anymore." You try to push his body out of your personal space but Satoru doesn't flinch, he lets you struggle against his weight thinking you might actually beat him for a few seconds until you give up and drop your arms on either side of your body.

"Is it because of her?" he insists a second time. "I'm getting mixed signals from your cursed energy. I can't read you, so be honest with me, baby."

When you speak again, you avoid his gaze as much as you can. "I'm confused because I don't know what we are."

Satoru doesn't respond right away, taking a few seconds to take in what you had said. "You think we need a tag?" You click your tongue. "Like boyfriend and girlfriend, like look at them! They're a couple."

You mentally smack your forehead.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," you say biting the inside of your cheek, running away from those eyes.

"Hey," Satoru calls you sweetly, a pair of his long fingers grabbing your jaw to gently force you to look at him. "Talk to me." You inhale deeply, particles of his perfume dancing in the air numbing your senses.

"People noticing that we're something just makes me feel more confused. At first I didn't pay attention to it because I liked being with you but now I keep thinking about whether we're something exclusive or not."

"Oh." Satoru pulls away from you to give you the personal space you no longer want so badly to have. Without him occupying your entire vision you once again feel exposed, naked, the cold air becoming too cold. "I don't want to hide. I don't want to sneak around, I don't want to make excuses, I want to hold your hand when I want to and I definitely want exclusivity," he explains. "I definitely don't want to touch anyone else but you."

His little speech makes you feel warm inside and uncomfortable in your own skin. You shift your body weight from one foot to the other.

"I also want exclusivity with you… I guess."

"You guess?" he was smiling.

"I'm sure," you say, now holding his gaze. After all, even though there was never a conversation that explicitly explained what you two were and whether or not if either of you were with someone else it would be a problem, you had never wanted to touch anyone else since the first time you kissed Satoru about two months ago.

Then your dates were starting to become more frequent. You went out in the mornings, you went out at night, you went out after school. One day he asked you to sleep over and one day he held your hand for the first time on the street and from then on you realized that whatever this was, you liked it. You felt comfortable. He never asked you to be his girlfriend and you'd never been in a relationship like this before, so you weren't sure if he felt the same way you did.

"I like you and I want to be with you and hold your hand without giving explanations to anyone else, what do you think about that?"

"Good," you reply. Unable to articulate anything else, your rambunctious heart breaking your ribs.

Satoru steps forward again, his hands cradling your cheeks and you drop your weight into them as you relax your eyelids, sigh his scent, tired of the ball of thoughts that was getting bigger and bigger. Now you didn't want to think, you just had to feel him. His lips brush yours and send shivers through your limbs, his fingers massage your cheekbones and you melt over him.

"I like you," he says, his words pierce your parted lips and tangle on your tongue, making you open wider to let him in.

"I like you," you reply with a moan, pulling yourself against his body to join your lips in a kiss sealing a promise. Your fingers tangled in his shirt pulling him closer, while his fingers massaged the back of your neck.

Satoru pushes his tongue inside you to meet yours which receives him with a gasp, your body grinding against the countertop. You feel his fingers latch onto your thighs beneath your dress and realizing his intentions you pull away from him, slightly dizzy.

You rest your forehead on his chest, your breathing ragged.

"Megumi," you remind him, he clicks his tongue.

"Right."

"I know." Satoru looks down at you from above, unwilling to hide that he was watching your lips.

"Can we…?"

"Make the soup first, give him the pills, and I'll prepare a bath for him," you say patting his chest. Satoru grunts. "Go."

With one last kiss he deposits on your forehead he resigns himself to his fate. Unable to resist he leaves two more on your nose and another on your lips, still holding your face gently.

"I care about him, you know that?" He says out of the blue, as if he wants to make sure you're on his side.

"I know."

"Sometimes it scares me to think I'm doing a bad job," Satoru takes a deep breath, and his voice sounds so tired. Sometimes he didn't give himself enough credit, he was but a child too when he rescued Megumi.

"You're doing the best you can. He's confused, but you're going to earn his trust little by little, you don't have to be his father, you're not. Just try to be a good mentor."

"Thank you for being here." He breathes resignedly, taking a step away from you to hold your hands and lose his gaze on them for a moment.

"Thanks for letting me do it."

Suddenly he turns on his infinity and lifts his head, a wicked grin creeps across his face and concern makes your skin crawl because that always came with a bad idea.

"Uh. What?"

"Maybe I want to adopt a pet."

A confused smile comes across your face, Satoru really had the ability to change the subject in less than a minute.

"A pet? Baby, I don't know if you have time to take care of a pet," you remind him sweetly.

"Maybe something tiny like fish or birds. You can come help me take care of them." His cheeks change color, turning a little redder and you knew he wasn't just telling you he wanted to get a pet, he was asking you to spend more time with him, in his apartment, and the idea scared you because you knew how close you were to falling in love with him.

more notes. the timeline of this would be gojo at about 23 and megumi at about 10. My hc (can't remember if it's canon) is that he took him to school and handed him over to yaga's care after finding him, but as megumi got older gojo started to have a closer relationship with the boy as a teacher to student which would then transition to both of them seeing each other more as family <3

[urdreamydoodles]

im assuming you're taking requests, so I will bring you Scott, Logan, Jean, Ororo, Charales, Erik with a young kid reader who has a very power mutation and is an omega level mutant, and is now at the mansion because they parents didn't want them

X-Men x Kid!Reader

Their relationship with you—a omega-level mutant

After being abandoned by your parents due to your dangerous omega-level mutation, you arrive at the Xavier Institute, where a X-Man take you under their wing. They help you navigate the overwhelming potential of your powers, becoming mentors and parental figures as they guide you toward self-acceptance and control.

Characters: Scott Summers, Logan Howlett, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Charles Xavier & Erik Lehnsherr

Of course I take requests, don't hesitate to ask again love ♡ And thanks for the idea, I hadn't planned on writing for a Kid!Reader soon but you motivated me to do it. — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

When you first arrived at the mansion, Scott was the one who greeted you. As a leader, he had taken on the responsibility of welcoming new students, especially those who might be difficult to place. But when he learned that you, a young child, had been abandoned by your parents due to your dangerous mutation, something in him softened. He saw a reflection of his younger self in you—alone, scared, and confused about your powers. He was quiet at first, observing you as you sat in the mansion’s common room, staring out the window, your small form dwarfed by the large surroundings. You didn’t speak much either, afraid of being rejected again.

Scott had been through so much with his own powers, especially as someone whose mutation had caused harm in the past. He understood how overwhelming it could be, especially for a child. He approached you cautiously, always careful not to seem too intrusive. "Hey," he said softly, kneeling to be at eye level with you. "I know things are hard right now, but we’re here to help. You're safe here."

At first, you didn’t believe him. How could anyone help with something as destructive as your mutation? But Scott never pushed you, never forced you to talk about it until you were ready. Days turned into weeks, and little by little, Scott became the constant figure in your life. He would check on you every morning, sitting with you during meals when you felt too shy to sit with the other students. He’d take you to the Danger Room, not for training, but to show you that your powers didn’t define who you were.

As time passed, Scott began teaching you how to control your mutation, sharing his own struggles with his optic blasts and how Professor Xavier had helped him. He showed you that even though your mutation was powerful, it could be harnessed for good. The bond between the two of you grew, and Scott became a father figure in your life, guiding you through the complexities of being an omega-level mutant. Whenever you felt overwhelmed, Scott was always there, his calm and steady presence reassuring you that you were never alone.

The more time you spent together, the more you came to see Scott as not just a mentor but as someone who truly cared for you. He would bring you small gifts—a book he thought you’d like, or a new pair of shoes when he noticed yours were wearing out. He’d sit with you at night when nightmares of losing control over your powers haunted your sleep. Over time, Scott became the person you trusted most, the one who saw past your dangerous mutation and saw you as a person—someone worth loving and protecting.

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

Logan wasn’t known for being a nurturing figure, but when Charles asked him to keep an eye on you, he couldn’t say no. When you arrived at the mansion, a young kid with a mutation that even the other mutants found intimidating, Logan saw the fear in your eyes. It reminded him of his own past—how he’d been treated like a monster because of his powers. But he didn’t approach you immediately. He watched from a distance at first, letting you get comfortable in your new environment.

You were quiet, withdrawn, and understandably scared of hurting someone with your powers. Your parents had abandoned you, and that kind of rejection left deep scars. But Logan understood that. He knew what it was like to be rejected for something you couldn’t control. Slowly, he began to approach you, always in his gruff, no-nonsense way. "Kid," he’d say, catching your attention one afternoon while you sat alone in the garden. "You hungry? Come get something to eat."

At first, you were hesitant around him. Logan’s rough exterior and gruff voice made him seem intimidating, but over time, you began to realize that beneath all of that was someone who genuinely cared. He didn’t coddle you, didn’t treat you like you were fragile. Instead, he treated you like a person, not just a child. He would take you with him on walks through the woods surrounding the mansion, teaching you survival skills and how to listen to the world around you. Logan wasn’t the type to sit down and talk about feelings, but in his own way, he helped you understand that your mutation didn’t define you.

As your bond grew, Logan became more protective of you. He’d take you out to train, showing you how to defend yourself—not just with your powers, but with your fists. He wanted you to be strong, to not rely solely on your mutation. "There’s more to you than just that," he’d tell you, his tone gruff but kind. "You’ve got a brain, kid. Use it."

Logan was never one for emotional speeches, but his actions spoke louder than words. He’d be there when you had nightmares, sitting silently by your side until you fell back asleep. He made sure you had everything you needed, even if that meant going out in the middle of the night to get you something. Over time, you began to see Logan as a father figure, someone who, despite his rough edges, loved you in his own way. He was the one who taught you that you were more than just your powers, and for that, you loved him back.

Jean Grey (Phoenix)

When Jean first saw you, she sensed the fear and confusion swirling around you like a storm. You were so young, yet your powers were immense, dangerous even, and you didn’t have the control to handle them yet. Jean understood what it was like to carry the weight of powers that felt too big for you. She’d been there once, and she knew how terrifying it could be. So, from the moment you stepped foot into the mansion, Jean made it her mission to help you.

Jean was gentle with you from the start, never pushing you to open up too soon. Instead, she made sure you knew she was always there, a comforting presence in the chaos of your new life. She’d sit with you during meals, smiling softly, encouraging you to try new foods or talk about your day. "You’re not alone in this," she’d say, her voice calm and reassuring. "We’ve all been where you are. It’s okay to be scared."

The first time your powers flared up, it was in the middle of the night. You had a nightmare, and your mutation spiraled out of control, shaking the entire mansion. Jean was there within seconds, her own powers calming the chaos around you. She sat beside you, her arms around your trembling form, whispering soothing words until the storm inside you calmed. "It’s okay," she’d murmur softly. "I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you."

Jean became the mother figure you had never known. She was patient, always understanding that your powers were tied to your emotions. She spent hours with you, teaching you how to meditate, how to center yourself, and how to control the overwhelming power you carried. She shared her own experiences with you, telling you about the times she had lost control of her abilities, and how she had learned to harness them with time and practice.

The more time you spent with Jean, the more you grew to trust her. She was the one you went to when you were scared, the one who held you when the weight of your mutation became too much. Jean was always there, offering comfort, guidance, and love. She never saw you as a danger, even when your powers flared up unexpectedly. Instead, she saw you as a young mutant who just needed a little help finding her way.

As your relationship deepened, Jean became more than just a mentor—she became the mother you had always needed. She was there for every milestone, every step of your journey to control your powers. And when you finally began to master them, it was Jean who stood beside you, her smile filled with pride and love. She had taken you under her wing, and in doing so, she had given you a family.

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

When you first arrived at the Xavier Institute, Ororo Munroe was one of the first faces you saw. There was something about her calm and regal presence that made you feel a little less overwhelmed by your new surroundings. You were still so young, and with your mutation threatening to spiral out of control at any moment, you were terrified. Your parents had made it clear they couldn’t handle the dangers your powers presented, and now you were here—alone, confused, and unsure of what to expect.

Ororo approached you gently, her voice soft but strong. "Welcome," she said with a warm smile. "You’re safe here. We’ll figure this out together." She could sense your unease, the way your powers hummed beneath your skin, ready to burst forth at the slightest emotional trigger. Ororo understood what it was like to have powers connected so deeply to one’s emotions. Her ability to control the weather had once been wild and untamed, just like you.

At first, you were hesitant. You didn’t trust easily, not after the way your parents had reacted to your mutation. But Ororo didn’t push. She gave you space when you needed it, but was always there when you felt ready to open up. She took you under her wing, teaching you how to connect with nature, how to calm your mind and body to prevent your powers from overwhelming you.

She would take you out into the gardens, her favorite place at the mansion, and together you would sit in the grass, surrounded by flowers and trees. Ororo showed you how to focus on the wind, the rustle of the leaves, the soft patter of rain—small, natural things that helped you feel grounded. "Your powers don’t control you," she’d say with quiet conviction. "You control them."

As time passed, Ororo became a mother figure to you. She was always patient, always understanding. She taught you discipline and control, but more than that, she taught you self-acceptance. She helped you see that your mutation was a part of who you were, but it didn’t define you. Whenever you had a rough day, Ororo would be there, offering comforting words and reminding you that you were stronger than you thought.

The bond you developed with Ororo was unbreakable. She was there through every challenge, every triumph, and every setback. With her guidance, you grew stronger, not just in your abilities, but in your confidence. And no matter how many times you stumbled, Ororo was always there to lift you back up, her gentle smile reminding you that you were never alone.

Charles Xavier (Professor X)

You hadn’t said much when you first arrived at the mansion, but Charles Xavier didn’t need words to understand the storm of emotions brewing inside you. The moment he saw you, he could sense your fear, your confusion, and the overwhelming power you were struggling to control. Your mutation was dangerous, unpredictable, and omega-level—something your parents couldn’t handle. They had sent you here, hoping Charles could help, but you felt abandoned, rejected.

Charles had seen it all before, in countless young mutants who had passed through the mansion’s doors. But something about your quiet demeanor, the way you held yourself as though you didn’t want to take up any space, tugged at his heart. He approached you with kindness, offering a gentle smile. "You’re not alone anymore," he said, his voice soft but reassuring. "This is your home now."

At first, you were skeptical. You had been told so many times that you were dangerous, that your mutation made you a threat. But Charles never treated you that way. He was patient, understanding, and always willing to listen. He never probed your mind without permission, respecting your boundaries even when he knew you were struggling.

He spent hours with you in his study, guiding you through meditation exercises, helping you learn to quiet the noise in your mind. "Your mutation is powerful," he’d tell you, "but it doesn’t have to define you. You are in control, not the other way around." His presence was calming, his belief in you unwavering. It was the first time in a long time that you felt like someone truly saw you—not as a threat, but as a person.

As the months passed, Charles became more than just a mentor to you. He was like a father, always there when you needed guidance or support. He encouraged you to push beyond your fears, to embrace your mutation as a part of who you were. With his help, you began to gain control over your powers, learning to harness them instead of being overwhelmed by them.

Charles never gave up on you, even on the days when you felt like giving up on yourself. He believed in you when no one else had, and that belief made all the difference. Over time, the bond between you grew stronger, and Charles became a pillar of strength in your life. You knew that no matter how difficult things got, he would always be there to guide you through it.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

When you were first brought to Erik Lehnsherr, you were terrified. Not just of your powers, but of him. You had heard stories—whispers about Magneto, the mutant who could control metal with just a flick of his hand, the one who had waged wars for mutantkind. But there was no one else who could understand what you were going through. Your mutation was out of control, destructive, and your parents had given up on you.

Erik didn’t approach you like the others at the mansion might have. He didn’t sugarcoat things or offer soothing words. Instead, he looked at you with a kind of intensity that made you feel like he was seeing straight through you. "You are powerful," he told you bluntly, his voice firm. "More powerful than you realize. And that power is something you must learn to control."

You weren’t sure what to make of him at first. He was intimidating, his presence almost overwhelming. But there was something in his words that resonated with you. He didn’t treat you like a fragile child. He didn’t look at you with fear or pity. Instead, he saw potential in you—potential that everyone else had overlooked.

Erik took you under his wing, and while his methods were harsh at times, they were effective. He pushed you harder than anyone else, refusing to let you be consumed by fear or self-doubt. "Fear is a weapon," he would say during training sessions. "And if you let it control you, you’ve already lost."

As the days turned into weeks, you began to see a different side of Erik. Beneath the hardened exterior, there was a deep well of care—especially for you. He had seen firsthand what it was like to be cast aside because of one’s powers, and he wasn’t going to let that happen to you. He believed in your strength, even when you didn’t, and he was determined to help you harness your abilities.

Erik was a complicated figure in your life. He wasn’t soft or gentle like the others, but he was there when you needed him most. He challenged you, pushed you to the brink, but always pulled you back when things became too much. And over time, you came to trust him, to see him as more than just a mentor. He was like a father to you, albeit one with a complicated history.

Under Erik’s guidance, you grew into your powers. He helped you understand that being powerful wasn’t something to fear—it was something to embrace. And though your relationship with him was often difficult, it was also one of the most important connections you had ever made. You knew that, despite everything, Erik cared for you in his own way. And that was enough.

[p1utofairy]

PAC: your upcoming relationship 🎀🫧🎆

pile 1 🧸 —

ok so i immediately heard let the light in by lana del rey ft. father john misty! this is a very passionate relationship pile 1 wow. your person is very patient, attentive and willing to put you first no matter what. the dynamic will be similar to allie and noah's but minus the toxicity…there's a push and pull but just enough to keep each other engaged and entertained. i'm hearing a lot of witty playful banter, you grinning until your cheeks hurt and not being able to keep eye contact because they give you butterflies. i'm feeling some gemini influence in this pile hmmm communication will be really important between the 2 of you. i think you both are very similar when it comes to your interests and values but have a different approach to how you handle your feelings and express your emotions. you may be a bit more hesitant or resistant to sharing how you feel in hopes of keeping the peace but i feel like your person will encourage you to speak your mind instead of bottling it in. this goes for any scenerio as well, they want you to be able to step into your power and not dim your light for anyone or anything. your person could have prominent water/cancer/or 4h placements because they give nurturing vibes. i just heard "I JUST WANNA SEE YOU SHINE, CAUSE I KNOW YOU ARE A STARGIRL." you mean everything to them. even if you two were to have a disagreement, they'd probably be a bit moody at first but at the end of the day they'd want to talk it out and make up with you. (and i heard make it up to you) they'll never want you to go to bed angry at them or vice versa, this person is very mature and doesn't like to cut corners when it comes to their relationships. this person has an "all or nothing" type of mentality, when they commit themselves to you that's it. all they see you is pile 1, awww it's so sweet. you're gonna have lots of fun with this person.

pile 2 ⭐️ —

love you like a brother, treat you like a friend, respect you like a lover. OOOO pile 2 your person is very suave, they know exactly what to say and when to say it. i feel like they light up every room that they walk in & could definitely charm the pants off of anyone. it might be hard to take them serious at first or you may question if they're serious about you because they seem to be very friendly or more experienced. but i'm hearing that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, because although this person may give player vibes they’re actually a sweetheart at the core. i can see this person having a really bright smile, they'll love to make you laugh and put you in a good mood. you will bring a good balance to them, they need stability and you're exactly that. they're very confident and extroverted but deep down they feel like no one really sees them except for you. i'm hearing infrunami by steve lacy so maybe some of you already know this person. it honestly does give a good friends to lovers vibe. i can see you two texting a lot, going on little dates and having random/deep conversations about any and everything. maybe lots of discussions about movies? i'm hearing some of you really love cinema. i think you'll definitely see this person in a different light as you get to know them, compared to your first impression of them. it’s like when andie was putting ben through all those hoops until they went to visit his family in staten island…and once she saw him in his element/who he truly was at the core she realized her feelings for him. yeahhh this is super cute pile 2, i dig it.

pile 3 🍬 —

heyyy pile 3, right off the bat i keep hearing the word CUTE. like maybe this is what people will think when they see you and your person together? you two are absolutely made for each other, i think your inner child will really come out when you're around this person. i can feel the excitement, the giddiness and anticipation you two will exude when you're in each other's presence. i heard "like a kid in a candy store" lol that's adorable. power trip by j. cole ft. miguel is playing…yeah it's very much THAT. i feel like you both will pinch yourselves thinking is this real??? your person is gonna make you feel like you're on cloud 9 hehe i see them getting you flowers, writing you cute little messages on sticky notes and gifting you thoughtful things that you may have mentioned in passing but didn't expect them to remember. i feel like you (and maybe even your person) have been waiting/yearning for a connection like this for very a long time, i get an almost lonely energy. like you've been single for a long time and now you feel whole/complete. the intimacy between you two >>> not even just sexually but intellectually and emotionally! you're gonna feel so safe and comfortable with them. your person is very sentimental and they will never take a moment shared with you for granted. i see polaroid/photobooth pics of you 2 being all close and cutesy :) this person might be a little lowkey/reserved in nature but you definitely bring them out of their shell. the scene where jenna says “arrivederci” and is so giddy when matty responds back with “au revoir” is coming to mind. AH y'all are gonna be so goneeeeee pile 3 i love it for you.

[beegomess]

hii! absolutely love ur posts 🫶🫶

i was wondering if you'd write a bsfs to lovers, mattheoxreader. Like, they've been childhood friends, and kinda of a 'she fell first, he fell harder' lol. Kinda corny but still vv cutesy and fluffy

totally alr if not!

tysm 💗

M.R. || In how many ways can you love him?

Summary: You and Mattheo grew up together, but falling in love with him didn't seem like a good idea, unless he came to do the same some time later…. Warnings: cute and romantic.

A/N: I really hope you like it. I apologize for the delay, I wanted to do something well done!

Open orders!

He was still a child when their paths crossed for the first time. The boy, with black curls and a somewhat lost look, sat next to him at the huge Slytherin table, right after the Selector Hat ceremony. The table, with its long wooden benches and a soft lighting that seemed to emanate a mystical glow of floating candles, was the stage of new friendships and alliances.

You watched him with curiosity and a warm smile, a friendly gesture that for him was almost a surprise. Raised in a home where feelings were non-existent, his kindness seemed like a strange contrast, but welcome. The last name, which made whispers circulate through the hall and kept the teachers on alert, was something that did not intimidate you. After all, you had always been immune to family pressures and expectations, living your childhood immersed in imagination and carefree games, with no time to understand what surnames were good or bad for you. The only daughter of a traditional family, pure-blood and fervently loyal to obscure figures, you at the time barely knew the true extent of the influence of these individuals.

Mattheo, with few friendship options in his new environment, has found in you a safe haven. Without knowing it, he was about to enter into a relationship that would become a fundamental foundation in his life. His family, despite not being overly affectionate, was a better refuge than the dark environment provided by Bellatrix. Accepting Mattheo was a gesture of generosity that quickly became something essential; he found in his house a new form of belonging, mainly because, due to the implicit rivalry, the family itself would not welcome him with open arms, especially Draco, with whom he had a feeling of competitiveness created by the blonde.

The birthdays and natals in his house became annual milestones for Mattheo, and he became a constant and comforting presence during his pre-adolescence. The proximity between you has grown, and in several moments, he became your closest friend. During the first year at Hogwarts, you explored every corner of the school with enthusiasm and mischief. Mattheo, with bright eyes and a mischievous smile, ventured in search of Pirraça, the poltergeist, and together, you two created confusions that made the uncontrolled spirit want to move away.

In the second year, a visit to Hogsmeade brought a new layer to their friendship. It was there that you met Theodore Nott, a boy who, despite his closed and reserved countenance, found in you a welcoming and genuine friendship. At the same time, your approach with Pansy Parkinson, the girl with whom you shared the room, brought a new balance to your social life. Having a close female friend was a refreshing relief, a company that contrasted with the intense and often overwhelming presence of the boys.

Mattheo, always attentive and available, listened to his complaints and confessions with a patience that bordered on the exceptional. He offered thoughtful advice, and you trusted him completely. However, there were nuances of your feelings that you began to perceive, something subtle and still in formation, as if a veil of change began to be drawn. You initially ignored these changes, preferring to stay in the course of friendships and daily adventures.

Over time, during the end of the second year, murmurs and malicious jokes arose about the proximity between you and Mattheo. Some colleagues began to speculate and make insinuating comments about the nature of your relationship. Despite the provocations, you kept your composure, simply disregarding the gossip and continuing to enjoy the solid friendship you had built. For you, what really mattered was the genuine bond you shared, a firm foundation in a world full of uncertainties and intrigues.

During that year's vacation, you exchanged letters and met a few times. In each of these encounters, his heart seemed to beat faster and differently, as if he was trying to free himself from a subtle enchantment. The way you watched him changed: every detail of your face, every trace of your expression seemed more intense and fascinating. He looked even more handsome when he smiled, and every time that happened, you felt a mixture of admiration and anxiety.

His parents, who always preferred a male child, treated Mattheo almost as if he were a family member. Gifts, school expenses and even money for fun were offered to him with the same generosity as to you. This closeness made your feelings for Mattheo slow to emerge, since you were treated and treated like brothers, which sometimes made you lose hope.

Her best friend, Pansy, soon realized what was happening. At the beginning of the third year, on the night of her return to Hogwarts, she listened carefully as you talked about the holidays and how much Mattheo showed up at your house, something you loved.

- You really like him, don't you? - Pansy asked, with a suggestive tone that made you turn quickly to face her.

- What do you mean by that? - Your shame made you turn to the bed, pretending to fix the covers while your face turned scarlet. - Of course I like him, we grew up together.

Pansy rolled her eyes, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she prepared to sleep.

- You know that's not what I'm talking about... - You sighed, trying to divert the conversation. - Please, he'll never notice how you feel if you keep treating him just like a friend.

You considered what she said, but soon tried to change the subject to escape the restlessness.

- Pansy, let's stop this and sleep. - You laughed, trying to disguise, but as soon as your head rested on the pillow, your mind wandered to that afternoon when other girls threw themselves on Mattheo. He seemed to have changed so much since the previous year, and you only noticed now.

[...]

In the following weeks, you experienced some silly things, like wearing a perfume that he complimented some time ago, or sitting with him in class, enjoying every joke he told you in whispers. You even rested your head on your shoulder during the late afternoon, while watching the Black Lake with its waves swinging to the taste of the light wind.

Every week that passed, you seemed even more attracted to him, but also more and more upset. The girls cared little about his presence when they wanted to flirt with him, and he always corresponded, every time, without exception. Weeks turned into months and, when you realized, you had already been going through this anguish for a year.

You had made your feelings so evident that even Theodore noticed. In a Snape class, after seeing you turn to his and Mattheo's table and smile at Riddle, Theodore leaned over to his friend to whisper something inaudible to the others.

- I think she likes you. - Mattheo frowned, with a confused expression.

- Who are you talking about? - Theo didn't answer with words, he just directed his eyes to you. Riddle followed his friend's gaze and became even more confused, but forced a laugh. - Oh, please, Theo...

- You're pathetic for pretending you don't see. - Theodore commented and laughed, going back to what he was doing, while Mattheo nodded negatively, completely disagreeing with Nott.

On the other hand, Pansy asked you to forget him, seeing how sad you looked every time he canceled appointments with you to go out with other girls. When it wasn't for that, it was when he came to tell you about how the girls were with him. His heart shattered with every word. Pansy began to practically hate him for having the power to do you good and evil at the same time.

- Maybe you should take some time for yourself... We can go out and go shopping or sleepovers with the other girls. - She suggested, stroking her hair while you hugged her after telling her what had happened this time. - You need to get away from him, Y/N. Mattheo may have been your first love, but it certainly won't be the last.

You understood all this, but it was very difficult to put it into practice. It was like tearing out a part of your life by force. The way he didn't seem to have noticed your absence in the following days only encouraged you to continue.

You did everything Pansy suggested: you went out with her, made new friends, and even other boys started to be more interested in you. Mattheo ended up looking for you after some time and you even gently accepted him, but it was as if you were just friends now. You began to understand that he would never really see you in any other way than that, and maybe this was already starting to be acceptable to you.

The relationship with him seemed lighter after this break. You went out a few times to Hogsmeade, and you made him laugh easily under the watchful eye of Theodore, who usually accompanied you. He, as Mattheo's closest friend now, was starting to like how you interacted. Before, he felt a certain guilt and even pity for seeing you sad, but now it was as if you didn't care about the girls' looks anymore.

At the same time, you began to notice the presence of a certain boy, who smiled at you when he met you in the corridors or during classes. Riddle began to miss the times when you turned your face to smile at him every morning in early classes. Instead, he saw you answering small notes that other boys sent you in class. In a job passed by McGonagall, Mattheo practically ran to you to make sure they would do the job together.

The roles seemed to have reversed, and Theodore had fun with the irony of fate. Mattheo hated it when the boys flirted with you, even when he was together, or when they pretended to have problems in some subject just to spend hours with you in the library. And even more so when they insisted on accompanying her to her dormitory after the parties in the communal room. The latter was a huge torture for him, since he knew that this was one of the ways the boys used to finally kiss someone.

The morning after that party, you sat next to Mattheo during breakfast, as you always did. Yes, he tortured himself all night thinking about how long that boy who found you in the dark corridors took to return to the common room, but he tried to ward off this thought, focusing on the fact that on that day, you would go out together and everything would go back to normal. However, his happiness lasted a few minutes.

- So, where are we going first today? - Mattheo asked with a smile on his face, leaning towards you. His face, however, formed a strange expression, something like regret. - What was it?

- Matt, I'm sorry. I completely forgot that we scheduled to go out today... - He was still confused, he just smiled in response, as if the answer was obvious.

- All right, Theo and I can wait for you. - Theodore, on the other hand, had already understood what was happening and just muffled a low laugh.

- No, Mattheo, I'm ready... - His face looked even more confused as he stared at you, who had a slight smile on his face. - It's just that Adrian invited me yesterday and I accepted. But it's okay for you, isn't it? After all, we can go another day if you want.

- Adrian? - He asked still incredulous. - Adrian Pucey? You don't even know him. - Mattheo disdained and Theodore paid even more attention, looking forward to what was to come.

- Mattheo, I don't think you've been listening to me lately. - You smiled, but your irritation was visible to those who knew you. - I've been going out with him for a while, just yesterday we were at the party.

- Yes, but I thought it was just one more of those boys who keep chasing you... - He started, but you interrupted him.

- Don't play dumb, Matt. Even Theo knew... - You waved to Theodore, who confirmed with a gesture, making Mattheo even more angry. A brief silence followed, but you didn't let it last long. - Very well, see you later. - You got up from the table when you saw the other Slytherin waiting for you at the exit of the Great Hall.

Mattheo watched you walk away with a smile that he believed was exclusive to his presence. In the vision distorted by jealousy, it seemed that you only needed to jump when Pucey gave you a light kiss on the cheek, which made a knot form in his stomach. Meanwhile, Theodore just watched the way he clenched his jaw in frustration.

After that morning, Theodore had to endure Mattheo's bad mood for the rest of the week, a constant weight that hovered over him. Meanwhile, you, irritated by the way Mattheo seemed upset with you, avoided your presence for several days. Silence and distance have become your way of dealing with the growing tension between you.

During this period, Mattheo kept a calculated distance, but couldn't help but watch you when he wasn't looking. He spent hours huddled in a corner, his eyes fixed on you during classes, with a tumultuous mind. Every laugh you shared with Pucey was a blow of pain for him. He felt that something was deeply out of place, a cruel disorder in the balance of his world. But the worst was still to come that night.

It was another one of those typical parties in the common room, an event full of laughter and muffled music. Theodore watched Mattheo with a close eye, watching him fix his eyes on you as you approached the sofa where he and Nott were sitting. You were stunning that night, the light of the torches enhancing the brightness of your smile as you settled next to them.

Since Mattheo's feelings began to manifest, he had unconsciously stopped noticing other girls. This change happened so naturally that he didn't even notice. It was as if, suddenly, the world around you had become a colorless blur compared to the brightness you radiated. The empty space next to him at the party seemed to be the materialization of an unverbalized desire, a silent invitation that he did not know how to accept.

Mattheo was completely consumed by a love that dragged him into an abyss of anguish and unrequited desire. Every furtive look of yours towards you was a silent torture, a constant reminder of the intense and unattainable desire you felt. His thoughts revolved incessantly around you, and the simple fact of seeing you interact with another boy with a deep void forming in his chest, an acute pain that seemed to corrode his soul. At parties and meetings, Mattheo felt like a powerless spectator, trapped in a passion that left him distressed and desolate.

Mattheo, however, remembered the reality, seeing you smile gently at him and Theo while you talked quietly with your friend.

- What happened? Doesn't your dear Adrian accompany you in these places? - Riddle's tone was cruel, clearly demonstrating his pain. - I thought they were together here too, since they practically live together now...

You noticed the cold tone, the smile on your face falls and a confused expression takes over.

- What's wrong with you? Why are you so upset? - Your tone was not accusatory, you were really inclined to understand why he moved so far away.

On the other hand, Theo just carefully observed each interaction.

- I'm not upset. - Riddle practically murmured while quickly drinking the last sip of the drink in his glass, getting up soon after.

You and Theo looked at each other, looking for answers in each other, but both just found doubts.

When you went out to look for him, you couldn't find Mattheo anywhere at the party. I was about to give up when an idea came to your mind: the astronomy tower. Taking a deep breath, he climbed the winding stairs, feeling his heart tighten with each step. Upon reaching the top, the night breeze cut his skin, bringing with it the cold air characteristic of the altitude. The wind was strong, hissing in your ears while the stars shone in the dark sky, as far away as the boy you were looking for seemed to be.

Mattheo was there, leaning against the iron railing, with a lit cigarette between his fingers. He didn't seem to notice his arrival, fixing his gaze on the horizon. The smoke mixed with the cold air, creating a soft fog around it.

- The party doesn't seem like your kind of fun today - you commented, trying to break the silence lightly as you approached.

He released the smoke slowly, without looking at you.

- Maybe it's not. Maybe I don't have patience for the same old things anymore.

You crossed your arms, both because of the cold and because of the tension that was beginning to arise.

- What's going on?

He didn't answer immediately, taking another drag on the cigarette. You waited, but Mattheo's indifference began to annoy you.

- Mattheo, say something. - he insisted, his tone getting firmer.

He put out the cigarette against the cold iron, finally turning his face to face you. His eyes were gloomy, loaded with a weight that you couldn't decipher.

- What I don't understand is why you keep getting closer to Adrian... - The words came out with an unexpected acidity. You blinked, surprise.

- Adrian? What does it have to do with him? We're leaving, yes, but you don't have the right to question me about it. - He took a step forward, his expression hardening.

- I see you together all the time. I don't know how you don't realize how ridiculous this looks.

His heart began to beat harder, but now out of anger.

- Ridiculous? Mattheo, you went out with several girls while I was... while I was here, waiting for you to notice! - The words came out in an outburst that you didn't even know you were keeping. - And you never cared what I thought. How can you want to charge me something like that now?

He looked at you, his face tense for a moment before softening.

- It wasn't the same thing, and you know it. - You laughed, incredulous.

- Wasn't it the same thing? Of course it was. You're just not used to seeing things turning against you. - Mattheo looked down for a moment, as if he was fighting against his own emotions.

- I... I was trying not to get attached. I thought it was better that way, so as not to hurt you. But then Pucey came, and I realized it wasn't working. - He sighed, his voice getting lower. - I don't know how to deal with it. With... us.

His words hit you almost unreally. It was all you had wanted to hear for so long, but now, it seemed so distant, as if he was revealing something too late. The silence that fell between you was heavy, full of unsaid things.

- And what do you want me to do, Mattheo? That I end everything with Adrian just because you finally decided to realize it? - His voice had no more anger, just a sadness that even you didn't expect to feel.

He looked at you, the vulnerable expression, something that was rarely seen in him.

- I don't know. All I know is that... that I care about you. More than I should.

The anger you felt was softening, but that didn't mean that things were resolved. The words you dreamed so much of hearing were finally there, but the time, the context, everything seemed wrong.

- That doesn't make sense now, Mattheo - you murmured, taking a step back, feeling the icy wind chill your skin. - I waited so long for this, and now... I don't know what to think.

He took a step towards her, his eyes intense.

- I'm not asking you to decide now. I just want you to know.

The silence between you two was loaded, the night wind cold and insistent, but the cold you felt seemed to come from within, not only from the wind that cut the air. Mattheo was there, so close, and even with all the barriers he had put up, you felt that something had finally broken. He looked at you in a way he had never had before - there was no longer the distant mystery, but a raw intensity that revealed everything he had been hiding.

You felt a tightness in your chest, your mind spinning in a spiral of doubts and conflicting feelings. But before he could formulate any answer, Mattheo took another step towards him, closing the distance between you. His breathing was heavy, his breath mixed with the smell of cigarettes, and when his eyes met, the world seemed to stop for a moment.

- I tried to get away - he murmured, his voice hoarse, but with a sincerity that you had never heard before. - I swear I tried. But I can't, I can't see you with him, or with anyone else. I can't stand it.

Your heart shot, the weight of his words falling on you like a wave. Reason screamed to keep your distance, not to give in so easily, but every part of you longed for that. He was a mystery that held you, that pulled you into a deep abyss, but at the same time, he was the only one who made your heart beat like that.

- And what do you expect me to do, Mattheo? - your voice came out softer than you intended, the cold around you contrasting with the heat that grew in your chest.

He raised his hand, hesitating for a moment before gently touching his face, his thumb sliding down his cheek with a delicacy that seemed impossible coming from him. Your touch was hot, and the simple gesture made you close your eyes for a second, absorbing the moment.

- I want you to choose me - he whispered, his voice low and full of emotion. - Choose me, not him. Not anymore. Not after everything I... that we...

Before he finished the sentence, you interrupted him, feeling that the words were no longer enough. His lips met his in a sudden, impulsive movement, as if all the accumulated desire had exploded at once. Mattheo reacted immediately, pulling you closer, and the kiss that started soft quickly intensified, full of passion and all the tension you had repressed for so long.

The icy breeze around became insignificant, as if the heat between you was the only real element at that moment. His hands intertaced in your hair, and his arms wrapped you tightly, as if he wanted to make sure you didn't escape anymore. Every second seemed like an eternity, and at the same time, it wasn't enough.

When you finally moved away, his eyes were fixed on yours, his face still close enough for your breaths to mix.

- I've always wanted this - he admitted, his voice soft, almost vulnerable, while a smile appeared. - But I was too inattentive to realize how much I needed you. I won't make the same mistake again.

You stared at him, still trying to process what had just happened. With your heart racing, you smiled slightly, taking your hand to his face, tracing the line of your jaw.

He smiled, a rare smile, almost relieved, and nodded slowly, his eyes shining in a mixture of promise and desire.

____________________________

masterlist

xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [29] - Enticing

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: It’s important to have a plan in mind before certain meetings.

Word Count: 2200

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Fine, maybe Bucky did have a point.

You were two seconds away from jumping his bones and to annoy you even more, he was so busy with work that you could barely see him.

But thankfully, you had a solution for that.

“Take these home please,” you told your driver as you stepped out of the car, motioning at the multiple bags of lingerie sets on the backseat. “Thank you.”

“Of course ma’am,” he said and you closed the door, then made your way to the building. You took the elevator, then approached Bucky’s office and smiled at his assistant.

“Is he inside?”

“Yes Mrs. Barnes,” she said. “With his father.”

You raised your brows, then heaved a sigh and knocked on the door before opening it. George looked over his shoulder from where he was sitting on the couch and a smile pulled at Bucky’s lips as soon as his gaze fell on you.

“Hey there, am I interrupting anything?”

“Not at all, come in!” Bucky said as he walked to you and pressed a kiss on top of your head, making your heart skip a beat. George smiled at you and stood up as well as you approached him.

“Hi honey.”

“George,” you greeted him back and let him kiss your cheek, then sat down next to him on the couch.

“I was thinking we could have lunch?” you asked and he made a face.

“I gotta meet Nat in half an hour sweetheart. Sorry.”

“About the raid issue?”

George raised his brows, looking between you as if he was surprised that you knew about it, but neither you nor Bucky commented on it.

“Well she also lost half a million,” Bucky said. “Needless to say, she’s furious.”

“Everyone is,” George said. “That cousin of yours is an idiot, Y/N. I mean there’s a difference between being new and being an amateur.”

“Stark called for an emergency meeting,” Bucky said with a smirk. “So did Clint, and I’m guessing so will Nat.”

You tried to keep your expression serene and heaved a sigh. “They will eat him alive.”

“Business talk can wait,” George told you. “How is your day going sweetheart?”

Not retorting to the condescending tone he thought he could hide was rather challenging, but you managed to control yourself. There was a time for everything, and you had to make sure not to look not as interested in just how Ian had screwed up, at least in front of George. You exchanged glances with Bucky who rolled his eyes, then turned to George.

“It’s going good,” you said. “I had coffee with Becca, then went shopping.”

“Oh what did you buy?”

All the lingerie sets you bought flashed in your mind and you bit back a smile as you stole a look at Bucky, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Jewelry,” you said, holding up your wrist to show your bracelet. “And yours, George?”

“Enjoying the retirement,” he said. “Something your father can’t do anytime soon, as it seems.”

You scoffed a small laugh. “He likes the job too much.”

“That’s not the only reason,” he muttered and you shot a look at Bucky who smirked.

“Yeah well, bad choice in heirs.”

“Has he talked to you?” George asked and you pulled your brows together, feigning confusion.

“About?”

“About what he’s going to do now that Ian screwed up in front of people that badly?”

“He doesn’t talk to me about the job,” you said. “But I’d say he made his choice. Now he just needs to train Ian.”

“That training was supposed to have started decades ago.”

You hummed. “And yet here we are.”

“If I remember right, your prenup said your second child would have claim on the territory, no?” George asked with a laugh. “Maybe you two should hurry up, Arthur does desperately need an heir it seems.”

The joke made your jaw clench. Of course he didn’t even consider you just like your father didn’t, but he was more than ready to accept your hypothetical child as the heir.

Anyone but you, apparently.

“Father…” Bucky muttered and George held up his hands.

“Just saying.”

“And that’s my cue,” you said, pushing yourself off the couch and George chuckled.

“Y/N, I was joking.”

“Oh I know, I just think it’s a good idea to see if my dad is alright now that you mentioned him,” you said, shooting him a fake smile before walking to Bucky to peck him on the cheek. “See you at home?”

“Absolutely,” he said and you walked out of the office, anger still poisoning your system.

                                       *

Your father’s assistant told you that he was home today, so you went straight there without dropping by the company. As usual, the foyer and the rest of the house were full of your father’s or Ian’s bodyguards and his assistant was by the study door. You waved at her but before you could approach her, you heard your aunt’s voice echoing in the foyer.

“Y/N, hello!”

You tried not to grimace, then turned to smile at her.

“Auntie.”

She came closer to kiss your cheek. “Arthur is taking a call, let’s catch up in the meantime.”

“I’m actually in a hurry, I just wanted to check whether he’s alright—”

“He is,” your aunt assured you as she gently steered you to the living room. “Albeit a bit tense but you know, it happens.”

“Does it though?” you muttered as you sat down on the couch. She waved a dismissive hand in the air.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about Ian’s tiny little mistake?”

“I haven’t,” you said. “I have heard about the million dollar mistake though.”

She pressed her lips together.

“He is under tremendous amount of pressure,” she told you solemnly. “Running around everywhere.”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “Is that right?”

“And I told your father the same thing, I think he’s being too harsh with him lately.”

“Well, a lot of bosses want his head on a spike,” you pointed out. “I’d say he is being quite nice to him, actually.”

Your aunt shot you a glare but you only smiled, making her heave a sigh and clasp her hands in her lap.

“Arthur says people are pushing for a sit down,” she said. “And that Ian must be there for some reason. I don’t know why he insists on it—”

“Because if he didn’t attend it’d make him look even worse,” you said. “No one would take him seriously after that.”

“He’s not the boss!”

“He’s the heir,” you forced yourself to say. “Bosses can take heirs with them to the meetings. Father has a point, he can’t coddle him especially in a situation like this.”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” she insisted. “I’m sure Bucky has made them too.”

“He hasn’t,” you said, aware of the proud tone in your voice. “He was raised for this shit, so he actually pays attention. Unlike Ian.”

She clicked her tongue.

“Well you must talk to him,” she said and you pulled your brows together.

“To Bucky? Why?”

“Ian needs someone in that room that will have his back.”

You tried to stop the laughter threatening to spill from your lips.

“And you think Bucky will do it?”

“He will if you ask him to.”

“Why on earth would I ask him to?” you asked with a scoff and she threw her hands up.

“Because we’re family!” she said. “Ian would do the same for you.”

“Ian would throw me to the wolves if the roles were reversed,” you pointed out with a chuckle. “You know it as well as I do. They’d eat me alive during that meeting and he wouldn’t lift a finger, he’d encourage it.”

“You’re being very unfair to him, Y/N.”

“Maybe you just forgot what your son’s personality is like because you barely spend any time with him,” you said calmly and she narrowed her eyes.

“Careful.”

You dragged the tip of your tongue and held up your hands, gesturing surrender.

“Bucky wouldn’t help Ian even if I asked him to,” you said. “He doesn’t take him seriously.”

“And why is that?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m gonna go on a limb and assume it’s because Ian makes mistakes that cost my father and the other bosses millions of dollars.”

“What’s a couple of millions in this business?” she asked with a small laugh. “Nothing.”

You heaved a sigh. “It gives a message, auntie.”

She crossed her legs, sticking her nose in the air.

“Either way, talk to Bucky,” she said. “Everyone says he listens to what you say, so it might be a good idea to put in some good word for Ian before that meeting.”

You arched a brow, but before you could comment on it, your father’s assistant entered the room.

“Y/N, he says he can see you now.”

“Oh thank you,” you said and got up from the couch. “Auntie. Always a pleasure.”

She just shot you a smile and you shook your head slightly, then followed your father’s assistant to his study.

                                           *

When you got back home, Bucky still wasn’t back so you had enough time to put your plan into action. The set you had chosen for tonight was black; the lacy corset matching the garter belts holding your stockings. You were just done with fixing your hair when you heard Bucky opening the front door, so you threw yourself on the bed and grabbed the book on your nightstand to open it.

“Charm?”

“Upstairs!” you called out, turning on your stomach and swinging your legs back and forth lazily, trying to bite back your smirk as Bucky walked into the room, reading something on his phone.

“I have so much to tell you about the meeting today,” he said without taking his eyes off of the screen and went to place his gun on the small coffee table and you hummed.

“What?”

“Nat is furious, and she and Clint actually—” he stopped talking as soon as he raised his eyes from the phone and you looked over your shoulder to see him frozen in his spot.

“She and Clint?” you asked him as if there was nothing out of the ordinary and he blinked a couple of times in complete silence, staring at you.

“Bucky?” you said and he swallowed thickly.

“What the fuck—am I dreaming?”

“Why would you be dreaming?” you asked and rolled over to lean back on your palms, crossing your legs. “We should talk by the way.”

“Oh we’re not talking,” he said, pulling you by the ankle to the edge of the bed and you let out a squeal that turned into a giggle before you pushed at him and got up from the bed. He let out a groan.

“Charm…”

“What?”

“Is this a new way for you to torture me?”

“No, I just think we should talk.”

“I can’t contribute anything to the conversation because I don’t have any blood in my brain right now, it’s all rushing south.”

You rolled your eyes at him and leaned on your hip. “Can you focus?”

“No.”

“Bucky!”

“You’re in a corset and garter belts and you want me to focus?” he asked, taking a step towards you but you took a step back, smirking.

“Calm down.”

“Come here.”

“No because we need to talk first.”

“If this is about who breaks first,” he said. “I broke first, you won, now come here.”

“I’m glad you agree but that’s not it,” you said. “About the sit down, is there a date yet?”

“A lot of people would start with dirty talk—”

“Business talk is my dirty talk,” you stated. “So?”

“Next week,” he said, pulling at one of the ribbons on the corset and you swatted his hand away.

“Ian is going to be there so—”

“Take it off.”

“Good lingerie is wasted on men I swear to God…” you muttered, trying to ignore the way your stomach did a happy flip. “So if Ian is there, I need to be there.”

“Done.”

“The only way—” you batted his hand away again. “The only way for me to be there is if others believe I’m your heir in case of an emergency, because—”

“Done.”

You let out a laugh. “That easily?”

“Sweetheart you could ask me for all my possessions including the company right now and the answer would still be yes,” he said, making you let out a laugh as he wrapped his vibrainum arm around you and easily lifted you up. He carried you to the bed to drop you there and got rid of his shirt, letting you see his muscular before he got on top of you, his lips finding yours. Your eyes fluttered close and a happy sigh left your lips when he pulled back to look down at you.

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

You could feel the fire warming your cheeks and a giggle escaped from you before you pushed at him slightly so that you could straddle him. He quickly pulled at the ribbons holding the corset together and you tilted your head.

“So I win?” you asked again and he nodded, grinning.

“You win babe.”

You smirked, then let him pull the corset off of you to throw it somewhere in the room and leaned down to kiss him again.

Chapter 30

[midnightwriter21]

May I have one where Giyuu saves a 4 year old girl from a demon and thus decides to adopt her? The girl is very quiet, like Tomioka quiet but also very friendly and curious. She hates loud noises due to coming from an abusive home and is often found on Giyuu? Headcanons please

demon slayer hcs: giyuu's adopted daughter

characters: fem!reader x giyuu, the hashira

HOW THEY MEET

giyuu arrives at the location for his mission

it was reported that a lower class family had been turned into demons and were recking havoc on the small town they lived in

at nightfall giyuu approaches the home of the demon family and is greeted by the father and mother

as well as a human child

the two demon parents toy with the child

pushing her to the ground

pulling her hair

but when the father raises a clawed hand to her

giyuu takes the opportunity

before the strike can land on the childs face

the demons heads have already hit the ground

the child stares at the severed heads with a blank look

immediately giyuu is kneeling in front of her to block the line of sight

and he is assessing the damage done to her and asking

"do you have other family?"

the girl stays silent but shakes her head

he stands abruptly causing the child to flinch and his eyes soften

by now the sun has begun to rise and the bodies of the demons are gone

giyuu walks into the house to find anything of necessity for the child

and he is disgusted to see that even though the family had no obvious lack of money

the child was provided NOTHING of importance

feeling a small hand latch onto his haori he looks down

and with a sigh giyuu is carefully picking her up and beginning the walk back his estate

THEIR RELATIONSHIP

several months after the incident a meeting is called with the hashira

before leaving his estate Giyuu receives a letter

taking it from his crow and quickly reading it Giyuu walks to the backyard

sitting there amongst the flowers is the young girl he saved

he walks to her and reaches out a hand to help her up

she takes it, stands, and then motions for him to lean down

he does

and then she plops a flower crown on the top of his head

its messy and its more stems and leaves then flowers but giyuu allows it

together they leave the estate and begin the travel to the butterfly mansion for the meeting

standing outside of the mansion the child digs her heels into the ground due to her nervousness stopping giyuu in his tracks

he kneels to her height taking the makeshift crown from his head and placing it on hers

and then reaches out a hand

she takes it and then he opens the door to the mansion

MEETING THE OTHER SLAYERS

as the door opens and they step into the room hand in hand all heads turn to them

a small women with purple hair and a teasing smile is the first to speak, "you're late Tomioka"

before the other slayers can add to her comment

a man with a gentle voice speaks "he is late because I had a last minute request for him"

he turns to Giyuu

"is she here?"

the other slayers murmur their confusion

Giyuu just gently tugs the hand of the girl and pulls her from behind him with a "she is"

The man introduces himself as the leader of the demon slayer corps and then asks for her to be introduced to the other people in the room before giving a gentle smile and leaving

The slayers go around the room introducing themselves

Tengen, Mitsuri, and Obanai were nice enough

Muichiro was kind but reintroduced himself 3 times because he forgot what was happening

Sanemi was intimidating and angry

Shinobu was also very nice but the girl didn't like how she interacted with her adoptive parent so rudely

and Kyojuro was a bit too loud

soon enough the girl finds herself sitting in the lap of the love hashira having her hair braided while the rest of the hashira are poking fun at Giyuu

the girl sits there silently watching until Sanemi takes it a step too far

"the poor girl probably doesn't even like you! i sure fucking don't. she's probably miserable staying with y-"

"don't be mean to him!"

silence

its the first words she spoken since she walked through the door

running and latching onto Giyuu's leg she glares at Sanemi

"the only person I don't like is you!" before hiding her face in Giyuu's leg

no one says a word

until Tengen bursts out laughing lol

quickly Sanemi becomes the victim of teasing and Giyuu and the child are forgotten

Giyuu kneels down to her and puts a hand on her head

gives her a small smile quick enough so that no one else sees

picks her up and they head back home together

im soft for papa giyuu

[wosos-stuff]

Fractured Reflections

Lucy Bronze x Bronze Reader

-------------------------

The first time you realized your relationship with Lucy was fractured beyond repair was during an otherwise ordinary family dinner. You were both home for the holidays, seated at opposite ends of the table, the tension between you thick enough to choke on.

Your parents were oblivious, filling the silence with forced cheer and small talk about football. Your father praised Lucy’s latest performance with the national team, and you could see the pride in his eyes as he spoke about her accomplishments. Lucy, as always, deflected the praise with a modest smile, her eyes never once meeting yours.

It wasn’t that you resented Lucy’s success—you were proud of her, truly. But that pride was buried under layers of hurt, anger, and a sense of abandonment that had festered for years. Lucy had always been the golden child, the one who seemed destined for greatness from the start. Meanwhile, you had fought tooth and nail to carve out a place for yourself, to step out of her shadow and be seen as something more than just “Lucy Bronze’s little sister.”

But no matter how hard you tried, how much you achieved on your own, it always seemed like you were chasing after her, doomed to play catch-up in a race you could never win.

That night at the dinner table, something inside you snapped. Your father had just finished talking about Lucy’s latest victory when he turned to you, asking about your upcoming match with Arsenal. It was a big game, one that could determine whether your team would advance in the league, and you had been preparing for it relentlessly.

But before you could respond, Lucy cut in with a comment about how “every game is important,” her tone dripping with condescension. It was a small remark, barely noticeable to anyone else at the table, but to you, it felt like a slap in the face—a reminder that no matter what you did, it would never measure up to her standards.

You pushed your chair back and stood up abruptly, the sound of the legs scraping against the floor cutting through the awkward silence. “I’m not hungry anymore,” you muttered, before turning on your heel and walking out of the dining room.

You could feel Lucy’s eyes on your back as you left, but you didn’t look back. You didn’t want to see the indifference you knew would be there, the same indifference that had been growing between you for years.

---

The rivalry between you and Lucy only intensified as the season progressed. It wasn’t just a matter of sibling rivalry anymore—there was genuine animosity between you, fueled by years of unresolved tension and unspoken words.

When your teams faced off on the pitch, it was like a battle of wills, each of you determined to prove something to the other. You could see the fire in Lucy’s eyes every time she squared off against you, and you knew she could see the same in yours.

The media loved to play up the “sister rivalry” angle, painting it as a friendly competition between two elite athletes. But behind closed doors, it was anything but friendly. Every interaction was laced with sarcasm, every conversation a minefield of hidden barbs and thinly veiled insults.

You tried to talk to her once, after a particularly brutal match that ended in a draw. Both teams had fought tooth and nail for every inch of the pitch, and by the end, you were both battered and bruised, physically and emotionally.

As you walked off the field, you saw Lucy ahead of you, her head down as she made her way to the locker room. For a moment, you hesitated, considering whether or not to approach her. But something in you—perhaps a lingering hope that things could still be fixed—made you quicken your pace to catch up with her.

“Lucy,” you called out, your voice strained from the effort of keeping your emotions in check.

She stopped but didn’t turn around, her posture rigid. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice cold.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “We need to talk. About… everything.”

Lucy turned then, her eyes narrowing as she looked at you. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she said flatly. “You made your choice a long time ago.”

You stared at her, stunned by the venom in her voice. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who shut me out! You’re the one who always made me feel like I wasn’t good enough!”

“Because you weren’t!” Lucy snapped, her eyes blazing. “You were always trying to compete with me, always trying to prove something. I didn’t have time for that. I was focused on my career, on being the best.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. “You’re unbelievable,” you said, your voice trembling with anger. “You’re so caught up in yourself that you can’t see how much you’ve hurt me, how much you’ve pushed me away.”

Lucy crossed her arms, her expression unyielding. “Maybe you should stop blaming me for your own insecurities.”

That was the last straw. The fragile thread that had been holding you together snapped, and all the anger, hurt, and resentment you had been holding in came flooding out.

“Go to hell, Lucy,” you spat, turning away before she could see the tears that were starting to well up in your eyes. “I’m done with you.”

---

After that confrontation, you and Lucy barely spoke. On the rare occasions when you had to interact—at family gatherings or team events—the air between you was thick with hostility. The few words you exchanged were curt and laced with sarcasm, and it wasn’t long before even your parents began to notice the growing rift.

But they didn’t understand. No one did. To the outside world, you and Lucy were still sisters, still family, still bound by blood. But blood wasn’t enough to bridge the chasm that had opened up between you.

The media continued to hype up your rivalry, turning every match between your teams into a spectacle of sibling drama. But they didn’t see what was really happening, didn’t see the hatred that was growing in your heart, festering like a wound that would never heal.

You threw yourself into your training, into your matches, determined to outshine Lucy on the pitch. But no matter how well you played, no matter how many goals you scored or accolades you earned, it never felt like enough. The shadow of your sister loomed over you, a constant reminder of everything you could never be.

And Lucy, for her part, seemed to thrive on the rivalry. She played with a level of intensity that you had never seen before, as if she was determined to crush you beneath her feet. Every victory she claimed felt like a personal attack, a reminder that no matter how hard you tried, she would always be one step ahead.

---

The final straw came during the last match of the season, a game that would determine the league champion. Your team had fought its way to the top, and now, you were facing Lucy’s team in a winner-takes-all showdown.

The match was brutal, both teams pushing themselves to the limit in a desperate bid for victory. You and Lucy clashed on the field time and time again, each encounter more intense than the last. It was as if the entire world had shrunk down to just the two of you, locked in a battle that neither of you could afford to lose.

In the final minutes of the game, with the score tied and everything on the line, you found yourself with the ball at your feet, racing toward the goal. You could feel Lucy closing in on you, her presence a cold shadow at your back.

You were so focused on the goal, so determined to score and prove once and for all that you were just as good—no, better—than your sister, that you didn’t see the tackle coming until it was too late.

Lucy’s foot connected with the ball, sending it flying out of your reach, and you went down hard, the impact jarring every bone in your body. The referee’s whistle blew, signaling a foul, but it was too late. The chance was gone, the game was over.

As you lay on the ground, pain radiating through your body, you looked up to see Lucy standing over you, her expression cold and unfeeling. For a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in her eyes—regret, perhaps, or guilt—but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

She walked away without a word, leaving you to pick yourself up off the ground, the bitter taste of defeat heavy in your mouth.

---

That was the last time you saw Lucy. After the match, she disappeared, throwing herself into her training for the national team. You heard rumors that she was considering a move abroad, but you didn’t care enough to ask if they were true.

The rift between you had grown too wide, the hurt too deep. There was no going back, no way to fix what had been broken.

Your parents tried to mediate, to bring you back together, but their efforts were in vain. You were too far gone, too consumed by your own anger and resentment to even consider reconciliation.

In the end, you and Lucy went your separate ways, the bond between you shattered beyond repair. You were no longer sisters, no longer family—just two strangers who happened to share the same blood.

And as the years passed, the memories of what you had once been—of the closeness you had shared, the laughter, the love—faded into the background, overshadowed by the bitter reality of what you had become.

You continued to play, to chase after your dreams, but there was always a shadow lingering just out of reach. The rivalry with Lucy was over, but the emptiness remained, a constant reminder of the sister you had lost, and the fractured reflections of a relationship that would never be whole again.

[inkmonster21]

Short n’ Sweet💋

Hugh Jackman x Fem!Sister!Reynolds!Reader

Warnings: smut (oral male receiving)

Part 01

Short n’ Sweet Masterlist

I Can Scratch His Back But He Can Claw Mine

💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋

The next day at a table read, Ryan bursts through the door. “Hey, Jackass!” Hugh looks up from the script he's been reviewing, his expression going from surprised to amused as he sees Ryan strut into the room, his finger pointed right at him.

"Good morning to you too, Ryan," Hugh replies, a lopsided smile creeping across his face. "What's got you all riled up this early in the morning?"

“Oh, I’ll fucking show you.” Ryan pulls out his phone and shows Hugh. The screen shows the pictures of you and Hugh as he picked you up from the studio last night.

Hugh's eyes widen as he sees the pictures displayed on Ryan's phone. His heart sinks into his stomach as he realizes that their secret is out. But he quickly regains his composure, feigning nonchalance. "Ah, so you've seen those, huh?" he says, trying to sound casual.

Ryan’s eyes widen. “Why the hell are you picking my baby sister up from the studio, Hugh?” Hugh had to hold back. You were not a child, certainly NOT a baby.

Hugh sighs, his feelings were strong, and if it worked out, Ryan would have to get use to it. He would have to tell him, just not now. He runs a hand through his hair, stalling for time as he tries to come up with a believable explanation.

"It's not what it looks like, Ryan," he says, meeting his gaze. "I was in the area, she needed a ride, that's all, bud."

Ryan looks Hugh up and down with suspicion. Hugh sits there, trying to maintain his cool composure. He knows that Ryan is trying to get a read on him, trying to see if he's telling the truth.

"I swear, Ryan, it was just a friendly favor, nothing more," he insists, holding his hands up in defense. "I didn't realize the paparazzi were around. I don't want to cause any trouble, you know that." Ryan nods understanding. “Okay, I might have overreacted.” Ryan points a finger at Hugh again. “But only friendly favors. Got it? That’s my baby sister, man!”

Hugh nods, a genuine smile appearing on his face. He respects Ryan for being protective of you, and he knows that he needs to tread carefully. "I hear you loud and clear. No need to worry. I would never want to hurt her or disrespect her, okay? I promise I'll be a perfect gentleman."

Hugh can sense the brief flicker of hesitation in Ryan's eyes, but he chooses not to say anything about it. Instead, he watches as Ryan takes his seat, his body language conveying a hint of unease. “Fine, but one word of unfriendly advances, and I will hit you. For real.” Hugh holds up his hands in surrender, a small smile on his lips.

“I understand where you're coming from, and I respect that you're looking out for your sister. You have my word. I will treat her with the utmost respect."

He glanced over at Ryan, who still seemed to be mulling over everything, his expression thoughtful. Hugh knew that they would have to be careful from now on, to keep their relationship a secret for a while longer.

💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋

As you walk the carpet at the 35th Annual Music Appreciation Awards, a flurry of cameras and reporters surround you, eager for a few words and a photo. Despite the attention, your gaze keeps wandering in one direction – towards Hugh.

Meanwhile, he stands a few steps away, looking just as impeccable as always. However, it’s clear that his eyes are also constantly drawn towards you, and he’s struggling to keep his gaze off of you.

As a reporter approaches and positions themselves in front of you, their microphone poised and ready for the interview, they ask eagerly, "So, we've heard you're working on a new album – any teasers you can give us?"

You smile, used to the usual questions about your upcoming music, and respond with confidence, "Well, I can’t reveal too much just yet, but I can assure you, it’s going to be something special. I found some new inspiration.” You smirk at her.

The reporter nods, jotting down notes on a small pad as they probe further. "Any collaborations we should be excited about?"

You take a moment to think, your eyes briefly flitting over to Hugh before returning to the reporter. "No one planned yet, but I would be super excited to see a potential collaboration with a few artists," you reply mysteriously, maintaining a hint of intrigue in your voice.

While you were engaged in your own interview, Hugh was standing a few steps away, surrounded by cameras and journalists. He fielded questions with his usual charisma and charm, his responses articulate and engaging.

However, his gaze kept drifting towards you, his eyes often lingering on your face as he answered questions.

The interviewer couldn’t help but notice Hugh’s fleeting glances in your direction, and chuckled softly before making a comment, "She’s quite beautiful, isn’t she?"

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Hugh’s mouth, and he nodded in agreement, his response sincere, "She is, indeed. Absolutely gorgeous."

As you prepare for the upcoming performance, excitement and nerves mix in your stomach. You're one of many artists performing tonight. You smile slyly as you read the edited lyrics on your phone. You've made a small change to the outro of one of your songs, planning to playfully hint at your newfound situationship with Hugh. Although some may suspect, only Hugh will fully understand the hidden meaning behind the altered words.

As you're getting fitted with a microphone, you notice Hugh sneaking behind the curtain, his eyes meeting yours as a smile spreads across his face. Your heart skips a beat as you see him approaching, feeling a rush of excitement and anticipation.

Unaware of your real relationship, the others around pay no mind to the interaction between you and Hugh as you stand close together. To them, it simply looks like two friends casually talking. They don't notice the subtle touches or secret smiles you exchange, which only adds to the thrill of your secret affair.

As Hugh stands next to you, his hand subtly slides to the small of your back, his touch sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine. He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers delicately, his low voice filled with tenderness, "You're going to be amazing."

You wink at him, “Then you better get to your seat so you don’t miss the show.” Hugh grins at your charming reply, his eyes sparkling with affection and admiration. He gives you a nod, a hint of excitement in his voice as he teases, "I wouldn't dream of missing it. I'll be right there, can't wait to see you shine."

Unable to kiss him, you send a subtle but affectionate gesture of affection by blowing him a kiss instead. The brief but meaningful act is the closest you can get to physically expressing your love for him right in that moment.

The buzz of excitement in the air heightens as the current performance comes to an end and the speaker steps out to introduce you. A wave of anticipation washes over you as the spotlight slowly moves onto your location backstage.

You take your place, standing on the designated mark wearing those high-heeled boots and a shimmering, eye-catching outfit. You look every bit the part of a sparkling, captivating pop star who is ready to take the stage.

As the curtains part and the music starts playing, you come alive on the stage. The adrenaline rush of performing in front of an audience fills you with a passion that is unmistakable and contagious. Every move, every note, and every dance step is executed with a love and enthusiasm that is impossible to ignore.

As the final song draws nearer to its conclusion, you spot Hugh in the sea of faces in the audience. A grin flashes across your face as you sing the altered lyrics, the spicy undertones of the new and improved ending meant only for him.

Your voice rings out clearly through the speakers, each word carrying a hint of playfulness and affection, specifically aimed at Hugh.

"I can scratch his back but he can claw mine,

Keeps me like a dog, he’s always behind,

Ages just like wine, so fuckin’ fine,

I love you guys so much, I’ll see you next time!"

As you sing the explicit lyrics, the camera pans across the crowd and captures Hugh’s reaction. Despite his best efforts to remain composed, the explicit lyrics and the knowing smile on your face clearly leave an impression on him. It's obvious to anyone watching that the song was meant for him, and his almost getting caught by the camera only adds to the thrill of the performance.

You wave and blow a kiss to the audience, receiving applause and cheers in return. As you step off the stage, the adrenaline of the performance still coursing through your veins, you can’t shake the feeling of excitement and satisfaction that comes with having just delivered a killer performance.

💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋

The next day, the video to your performance spread like wildfire on social media. Hugh’s reaction to the lyrics became a viral sensation, spawning countless memes and jokes. The internet buzzes with speculation and discussion surrounding the meaning behind your lyrics, although Hugh and you know the true meaning behind them.

Your phone rings, jolting you awake from your sleep. You groggily reach out and grab it, seeing Ryan’s name flash on the screen.

“Hello?” You say softly. Ryan’s voice comes through the phone in a rush of words. “What the hell were those lyrics you sang last night?" You try to remain innocent and composed. “What do you mean?”

Ryan huffs in annoyance. He’s not an idiot. "You know what I mean. The lyrics you decided to ad-lib and sing during the show last night. The ones about 'claws and fine wine.' Who the hell was that about?" “You know I change the outro every once in awhile.” You remain innocent.

Ryan rolls his eyes at your innocent act, not buying it for a second. "Oh, come on," he exclaims. "You can’t expect me to believe that you were not talking about Hugh. Claws and aging like a god!” Ryan continues his rant, his voice growing more and more annoyed as he goes on. “You’re too young for him,” he says, his voice firm. “Besides, men his age just want one thing from girls as young as you.”

You blew up at his words knowing Hugh is the exact opposite. “God Ryan. It was just a song lyric. Don’t read so much into it.” Ryan is taken aback by the sharpness in your voice, realizing he’s definitely touched a nerve with his words. However, he’s not quite ready to back down just yet.

“Just a song lyric, huh?” He says, his voice filled with skepticism. “You’re telling me you have no feelings whatsoever for Hugh?”

You stammer over your words next. “Not… real ones. He’s hot. You can’t blame me for being attracted to him.” He can’t argue with your reasoning; Hugh Jackman is objectively a gorgeous man, and it’s natural that you would be attracted to him.

"Fine,” he says, his voice gruff. “You think he’s attractive. I can’t blame you for that. But you need to be careful. Your names are everywhere this morning.”

You roll your eyes at his words. “Than you’re welcome for the publicity.” Ryan sighs, realizing he’s fighting a losing battle. "Just be careful, alright? Don’t let this rumor with get out of hand.”

Ryan is still blissfully unaware of what’s really going on between you and Hugh. He sighs again, sensing that you’re hiding something from him.

"Just keep your head straight, okay?" he says, his voice laced with concern. "This whole thing could damage your image.” You scoff at his words. “I think I know what I’m doing with my career, Ryan.” You say in a sharp tone and hang up.

Ryan’s jaw drops open in disbelief as you abruptly hang up on him. He’s not used to you speaking to him like that, and he can’t help but feel a mix of annoyance and concern. He shakes his head and mutters under his breath, “girls…can’t live with them, can’t live without them."

“What, honey?” Blake asks as she walked behind Ryan. Ryan turns to Blake and sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "My stubborn sister,” he says, his voice filled with annoyance. "I just tried calling her to ask what was going on between her and Hugh, and she completely blew me off." Blake raises an eyebrow, surprised by Ryan’s reaction.

"She’s probably just tired or stressed,” she says, trying to soothe his frustration. “She’s been working really hard lately. Maybe she just needs some space.” Ryan scoffs, “space from me? She’s never needed space from me. I’m her big brother.”

Blake rolls her eyes at Ryan’s overprotective attitude. "You need to relax, Ryan,” she says, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "She is a grown woman now, and she’s allowed to have her own life. Just because you’re her big brother doesn’t mean you have a right to know everything she does. Hugh told you there was nothing inappropriate going on. Just leave it alone.”

Blake’s words resonate with him, and he sighes, knowing she’s right. He’s been acting like a protective older brother, but she is a grown woman now. She deserves her privacy and autonomy, even if it’s hard for him to let go.

Blake does smile at the thought before muttering under her breath. “They would be cute together though.” She walks into their kitchen getting ready to prep the kids breakfast. Ryan turns to look at Blake with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. He hadn’t been expecting her to say that, and he can’t help but be taken aback by her words. “You’re not helping.”

💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋

You’re shopping when your phone rings. Megan pulls it out of your purse and looks at the name. Your hopes rise. Maybe it was Hugh. She passes it to you, “it’s Blake.”

You feel a pang of disappointment when you see that it’s not Hugh’s name on the caller ID, but your spirits lift when you realize it’s Blake. You take the phone from Megan and bring it up to your ear, feeling curious about why she’s calling.

“Hello, hello.” You say with a smile. You loved your sister in law dearly. Thankful you had someone to help you beat Ryan up.

Blake’s cheerful voice comes through the phone, warm and friendly as always. You can hear the smile in her voice as she greets you. "Hey! How are you doing?"

“Good. Tired and running on pure adrenaline, and crumb cookie, but I’m still here.” Blake laughs at your description of your current state, amused by your honesty and the touch of hyperbole.

"Oh, gosh," she says, her voice filled with warm understanding. "That sounds like a recipe for collapse. You’re doing too much, sweetie."

“I know right.” You agree as you walk out do the shop. Your assistant, Megan, right behind you.

Some girls gasp as you turn the corner. “Can we get a picture?!” They asked in a rushed voice. Both girls so excited to see you.

“Of course.” You drop the phone and smile with the two girls as they take a selfie with you. You wave as they leave in an excited wave. “Sorry. Got caught by some fans.”

Blake chuckles at the sound of the fans’ excited squeals and your cheerful responses. It’s moments like these that remind her of how far you’ve come since your days of singing at family get-togethers. She can’t help but feel a sense of pride at your success.

"No worries, sweetie," she says, her voice still filled with warmth. "It sounds like you’ve got quite the fan club following you. I remember when your version of ‘Frosty the Snowman’ used to be the highlight of our family gatherings."

You roll your eyes at the memory. “I still need to find that tape and burn it.” *Blake laughs heartily at your response, amused by your continued embarrassment over the memory of your childhood Christmas performances.*

"Oh, come now," she teases, her tone lighthearted. "Those tapes are pure gold. Plus, Ryan would never allow us to destroy them. Imagine the blackmail potential he has planned." You laugh with a smirk. Your own blackmail in your back pocket. “And I still have his green lantern test photos.”

Blake gasps in surprise, both surprised and amused by your revelation. She hadn’t expected you to have any dirt on Ryan, but the thought of you having blackmail material on your big brother definitely amused her.

"Oh, you sneaky little thing,” she exclaims, her voice filled with laughter. "I had no idea you had a secret weapon up your sleeve. Those green lantern test photos could be quite the leverage." “Oh I have plenty more. It’s just a little warning for him to not fuck with me.”

Blake shakes her head in amusement, imagining the look on Ryan's face if you ever decided to reveal your secret stash of blackmail material. She can't help but feel proud of you for having such leverage over your overprotective big brother.

"Speaking of him. The kids and I were heading over to the studio to grab lunch with him. You want to come along?” The offer warms your heart. If Ryan was there… Hugh would be too. “I’d love to!”

Blake's voice fills with joy as she hears your eagerness to join them. "Fantastic!" she exclaims, her tone filled with warmth. "The kids will be thrilled."

Megan drops you off at the lot. You show yourself to the studio room, and see Blake, Ryan, Hugh, and the kids.

The kids squeal with excitement as they spot you entering the studio room. They immediately break away from their parents and run towards you, calling out to you with big smiles on their faces.

Blake, Ryan, and Hugh all turn to see what the commotion is about, and their faces light up when they see you too.

Hugh can’t help but break out into a broad smile as soon as he sees you walk in. The sight of you always fills him with a mix of joy and desire, and he feels a small flutter of excitement in his chest.

Inez, the sweet and affectionate little girl, rushes up to you with her arms outstretched. She wraps them around your waist, giving you a tight hug. Her eyes light up with excitement, and a wide smile spreads across her face as she squeezes you. “See dad! I told you she was coming!”

Hugh chuckles at Inez's enthusiasm, looking amused at her excitement. He glances over at Ryan, who can't help but roll his eyes at his daughter's comment. "Well, I guess you were right, Inez," Hugh says with a smile. "Looks like your prediction came true."

You can’t help but meet his face with a wide smile. Hugh smiles back at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. He can’t help but feel a pang of desire as he gazes at you, especially after the last night together. But he quickly composes himself, hoping the others can’t notice the heat that’s suddenly coursing through him.

James, the observant little girl, watches Hugh’s eyes linger on you with a small smile on her face. She can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement as she imagines the two of you together, like the romance scenes she sees in her favorite Disney movies. Her imagination runs wild with thoughts of grand gestures and fairytale endings.

As you hold Inez in your arms, she clings to you with a smile on her face. She giggles and babbles as you make your way to the table where the rest of the group is seated. Blake and Ryan greet you with warm smiles, and Hugh can’t help but watch your every move with a mix of admiration and desire.

You take the seat next to Hugh. “Hey stranger.” Hugh chuckles at your greeting, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Hey yourself," he responds, his voice warm and friendly. "You’ve been hard to get ahold of lately." You shrug playing into his false words, “I told you, I stay busy. The pop star life is very demanding.”

Hugh nods in understanding, a mix of amusement and admiration in his eyes as he looks at you. "Yeah, tell me about it," Ryan says, his tone a little playful. "Too busy even for me. I thought I was on your priority list." You smile at your brother, “you wish.”

Ryan rolls his eyes and shakes his head, amused by your witty response. But there’s a hint of playfulness in his tone as he replies. "Hey, I deserve to be at the top of that list," he says, feigning hurt.

Hugh and Blake smile at your exchange with Ryan, knowing that despite the banter, there’s a strong love and bond between siblings. They watch as Ryan continues to playfully pout, clearly enjoying his moment of mock wounded pride.

As lunch was served, the group digs in with relish. The food is delicious, and everyone starts enjoying their meal. The conversation flows easily, a mix of laughter and chatter filling the air.

Your hand casually moves across the table and lands lightly on Hugh's thigh, a subtle gesture that goes unnoticed by others around you. As your fingers squeeze gently, the suggestive touch leaves no doubt about your intentions.

He manages to compose himself, trying to keep his reaction hidden from the others. But on the inside, he can't help but feel a rush of desire and excitement at your touch.

Hugh's mind drifts to the memory of the previous night, the feel of your body pressed against his and the taste of your lips on his skin. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the memories and your proximity making it difficult to keep his desire in check.

Ryan looks to Hugh a he shifts, your remove your hand. “You alright, buddy?” Ryan asks Hugh. You turn to Hugh in fake concern.

*Hugh swallows hard, trying to maintain his cool exterior as he meets Ryan's gaze. He forces a casual smile and nods.*

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just have a bit of a stomach ache," he says, the lie slipping through his lips. The truth is, he's all too aware of your touch and the effect it's had on him. He can feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and he silently prays that none of the others notice the effect you have on him.

Ryan looks at Hugh with a hint of skepticism, unsure whether to believe the stomach ache excuse. "You look a little flushed. If you need to go lie down, we can cover for you."

Hugh shakes his head quickly, the thought of being away from you for even a moment not an option in his mind.

"No, no. I'm fine, really," he insists, his voice a bit strained. "I don't want to leave you guys." He glances at you for a moment, the connection between you making it difficult to maintain his composure.

Blake shakes her head. “No, Hugh. If you’re feeling ill go lay down. You’ve been working yourself too hard.” Blake looks to you as she speaks your name. “She’ll make sure you get to your trailer.”

Hugh hesitates for a moment, torn between the desire to stay and the desire to be alone with you. He glances at you again, silently weighing his options. He knows that if he stays, he'll be unable to keep his growing desire in check. Especially if you keep your sneaky hands going on their endless exploration.

"Are you sure?" he asks, looking at you with a mixture of longing and uncertainty. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Of course we’re sure. You need to do what’s best for your body.” Hugh takes a deep breath, the feel of your hand on his shoulder sending a shiver down his spine. "Alright," he finally concedes, rising from his seat. "I'll go lie down for a bit." You stand as well, smiling at Ryan and Blake. “I’ll be right back.”

Ryan looks at you, about to object, but Blake's firm yet calming gesture quiets him. He trusts her judgment, even if he still has his reservations about you and Hugh being alone together.

As soon as your away from their prying eyes you latch onto Hugh’s arm with a giggle. Hugh glances over at you with a grin, the feel of your hands grasping his arm sending a jolt of excitement through his body. He leans in close to you, his voice a low whisper. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he asks, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

“Forcing you to act like a teenager and sneak around with me? Absolutely.” You smirk, his trailer coming into view. Hugh laughs at your comment, the sound of your voice making his heart flutter. As you reach his trailer, he unlocks the door and ushers you inside.

"You know, you're going to get us into trouble one day," he teases, his tone filled with a mix of desire and excitement. As soon as the door closes behind you, Hugh wastes no time in pinning you against the wall. His body presses against yours, and his hands roam over your curves, feeling the heat emanating from your body.

"You have no idea the effect you have on me," he growls in your ear, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck.

You trail your hand down to his middle feeling the undeniable hardened member behind his pants. “Oh, I think I do.”

Hugh lets out a low moan as your hand makes its way to his groin, confirming his arousal. He is tenses, his body responding to your touch. His hands grip your hips, pulling you even closer against him. "You're driving me crazy," he whispers, his voice a rough husk of desire. "I can barely keep myself together when you're around."

You push Hugh away, he steps back, surprised by your sudden push. He looks at you with a mixture of confusion and desire, his eyes dark with want. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice betraying a hint of frustration and arousal.

You smirk, “nothing at all.” You push him to sit on the couch in the trailer. You sit on your knees between his legs, his eyes widening as you settle between them, your actions sending a thrill through his body. He watches you with a mixture of surprise and anticipation, his breathing quickening as he imagines what you have in mind.

With confident hands, you unbuckled his belt, your fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper of his pants. The sound of the zipper was like a promise of pleasure to come. As you pulled down his pants and boxers, his thick, erect cock sprang free, straining towards you.

You gazed up at Hugh, your eyes sparkling with desire through your lashes. "May I?" you asked, your voice hoarse with anticipation.

He nodded, his breath coming in short gasps. "Please."

You leaned forward, your tongue darting out to tease the tip of his cock. You savored the taste of him, the salty sweetness driving you wild. With one hand, you cupped his balls, massaging them gently as your mouth descended, taking him in.

Hugh's hands gripped the sofa cushions, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to maintain control. "Fuck, that's incredible," he groaned.

Your lips and tongue worked in unison, sliding up and down his length, sucking and swirling, taking him deeper with each stroke. You could feel his cock twitching in your mouth, a sign of his impending release.

"Oh God, you're amazing," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I'm not going to last much longer."

You increased your pace, your hand stroking the base of his shaft as your mouth worked feverishly. You wanted to taste his cum, to feel his release on your tongue.

With a guttural groan, Hugh's hips thrust forward, his cock pulsating as he exploded in your mouth. You swallowed eagerly, relishing the warmth of his seed, the taste of his pleasure.

He sank back onto the sofa, his eyes closed as he savored the aftermath of his orgasm. You sat back on your heels, a satisfied smile on your face, knowing you had given him an experience he wouldn't soon forget.

You rest your head on his thigh and smile up at him, “feeling better?” Hugh laughs lightly, reaching down to run his fingers through your hair. "Much better," he replies, his voice tinged with a touch of amusement. "Thanks to you, and that mouth of yours."

As you stand, you can't help but feel a pang of reluctance. You know that your time with Hugh must come to an end, and you also know that you'll have to return to Ryan soon. However, you try to push the feeling aside, wanting to savor the moment with Hugh for as long as possible.

Despite knowing that your time together was coming to an end, Hugh reaches out to you and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close for a final, passionate kiss.

His lips move tenderly but firmly against yours, conveying a mixture of love and desire. As the kiss deepens, he reluctantly pulls away, their foreheads resting together for a few moments.

As a slightly teasing grin spreads across his face, Hugh reminds you, "Don’t forget about our dinner on Friday."

He can’t help the hint of excitement in his voice as he reminds you of the date you’ve both been looking forward to for so long. The prospect of a night alone together, without any need to hide or sneak around, excites him.

A sly smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you assure him, "Oh, I’ll definitely remember, don’t worry."

You hold his gaze, a hint of mischief sparkling in your eyes. The thought of your upcoming date fills you with excitement and anticipation, and you know it’s written all over your face.

As you reach the trailer door, you turn to Hugh with a playful smirk on your face. "You better call me later," you tease, your tone light but with a hint of command.

You want to hear his voice, to continue the warmth and intimate feeling of your night together. Although you don’t want to say goodbye, you know you have to.

Hugh grins at your question, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he nods in agreement. "You can count on it," he replies with a warm smile.

He watches as you move towards the door, his eyes following your every move. The thought of the promised phone call later both excites him and serves as a reassurance that your connection will continue even after parting ways.

You just had to wait for Friday.

[ghostmaldo]

(✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾Demon Slayer Headcannons: Will you hold this for me? (✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾

In which (Y/n) asks them to hold something and then proceeds to place their hand into their S/O ^^. I read this prompt yeeears ago for ffxv and I just thought it was the cutest thing and I’ve never seen it again after that. So heres what I think the demon slayers characters reactions would be. Can be read and friendly or platonic.

With: Rengoku, Giyuu Tengen+Makio,Suma,And Hina, Shinobu,Sanemi and Gyomei

No warnings, full fluff. We’re goanna ignore cannon for the sake of the imagine. Except for Obanai and Mitsuri, I very much love their relationship and have chosen to not write about them. Kay? Kay!

I’ll do a part 2 with the demon moons + Muzan because this took waaaay to long to do wah-

Ask box open 💙

Playlist I listened to while I wrote this: https://youtu.be/bPzqW_dU2Gk?si=jLI9L0vgH0Q3VYT7

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Rengoku: Rengoku and (Y/N) were out and about in the nearest village. Visiting several different shops during their free time while they could enjoy it. Currently, Rengoku eyes were glued to a menu displayed outside a newly built restaurant. Completely enraptured by the tasteful dishes displayed on the board. (Y/N) approached behind him, a small shopping back in one of their hands. Maybe if Rengoku hadn’t been so distracted, they might have seen the playfulness pulling on their lips.

“Rengoku, will you hold something for me?”

Oblivious to the gleeful child-like smile on their face, he offered them their hand without even so much as blinking or moving his eyes away from the menu. His mind a preoccupied about the different variations of food that made his stomach grumble. Though those thoughts were briefly pushed to the back of his mind when he felt something warm slot between his fingers.

“Hmm?” Rengoku hummed, blinking a few times as he shifted his gaze over to his hand. We’re he found (Y/n) hand comfortably placed into his. “Haha!” He boasted loudly, smile growing twice as large as it already was. “A delightful one you are! Say it’s about lunch time. Shall we try this new restaurant, everything sounds so wonderful!” He exclaimed. Raising his hands while still clasping (Y/N) hand snug with his. If Rengoku had a tail it would most certainly be wagging right.

Overall: Rengoku’s find your antic amusing and most welcomed. He happily pulls (Y/N) into the restaurant hand in hand. Only letting go once they’ve settled down for a meal.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Giyuu: A similar situation to Rengoku, with the two wondering around a village mostly just for fun. However, its hard to tell exactly what Giyuu had his gaze fixated upon. His frozen solid in the middle of the crowd with a ten mile stare between two booths. His ocean eyes were somewhere lost in a unforeseen storm. People moved around the silent man, pardoning themselves if they ran into him on accident.

It took some time for (Y/N) to locate him after they’d gone to retrieve an item of interest. A shopping bag swinging with the rhythm of their legs while they waved a cheerful greeting. One that went ignored, though it wasn’t on purpose. They were about to call to Giyuu again when the words died in their throat. A mischievous glaze running over their eyes.

“Giyyyuuu, will you hold something for me?” This time, the question stuck to Giyuu. He turned their head slowly upon them. His eyes immediately pointing to the bag in their hand. He exhaled a gentle breath, extending his hand out for what he thought would be the bag in his hand. He jolted a bit when he instead sensed the familiar warmth of (Y/N) palm along his. He became at a lost of words, unsure what to make of this situation.

(Y/n) let out a light chuckle at his reaction. ‘Typical Giyuu’, they thought. Eventually they’ll tug them forward in the direction they want to go next. Though Giyuu still hasn’t said anything, nor had he pulled away. If (Y/n) attempts to let go of his hand, unsure if the action was welcomed. Giyuu will simply tighten his hold on them. “It’s fine.” He speaks blatantly, though if (Y/n) looks close enough… theres a light dust of pink on his cheeks.

Overall: A little embarrassed at first, but accepts his fate and will continue to hold (Y/n) unless something requires for him to let go permanently.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Tengen: Well first off you need a step ladder- Kidding, short of, anyway! (Y/N), Tengen and his three wives are out enjoying a late night festival. Theres good food, drinks, and fireworks to occupy them for the night. (Y/n) sits with Makio, Suma, and Hina snacking on some sort of festival foods. They’ve shared this little ‘idea’ with the girls and the three of them found the idea delightful. Gossiping among themselves if Tengen would become flustered by the idea and mostly by who.

“I think (Y/N) should do it! Master Tengen has had a soft spot for them lately!” Makio pokes a little fun at them, the other two girls chiming in with eager smiles and some harmless laughter. It does take some convincing, but eventually (Y/N) does surrender to the girls persuasion. And just in time for Tengen to rejoin the group. (Y/n) nearly leaps to their feet, running over to him exicdently. The three girls watch gleefully at the show they’re about to recieve.

“Tengen! I need you to hold something for me!” He quirks a brow, eyeing them up and down suspiciously. “You aren’t holding anything.” He replied with a playful smirk on his lips. “Just trust me! Pleeease?” They flash their puppy dog eyes at him and Tengen finds himself in a bind. How was he supposed to fight against puppy dog eyes?

Cautiously he holds out his hand. Jewelry catching the warm light bouncing off the cities lanterns. Nervously, (Y/) places their hand into Tengen massive palm. His fingers wrap around theirs and nearly swallows them up whole. Looking back at him, he smiled smuggly. “Is that all you wanted? You could have just asked!”

Que the girls squealing lovingly in the back ground and them ambushing everyone into a hug and wanting to take turns holding Tengen and (Y/N) hands~

Overall: Well, its seems Tengen made (Y/N) blush instead of the other way around. But its was still worth the shot and the girls thought it was absolutely adorable ^^

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Shinobu: It’s a busy day at the butterfly estate. A particular mission had sent back several members of the demon slayer members back to her abode with blooded limbs. Once taking care of the injured slayers, she sat neck deep in paperwork inside her office. Going over several discharge papers and other things she’d fallen behind on. The scratching of her pen was the only sound in the room aside from the occasional curse escaping her lips.

(Y/N) walked in with a cup of warm tea in hand. Knowing very well Shinobu needed a little break from the chaos that had been their shared morning. They knew it would be impossible to pull her away from her work, not when so many still needed attending too. Still… they had a small shroud of an idea that may pull Shinobu from her thoughts for even just a few minutes. The poor girl deserved that much.

“Shinobu.” They called out kindly. Setting the cup of tea on the table next to her. Her movement faltered for second, her keen eyes shifting to the cup of tea, then directly back to her paper work. “Yes (Y/N)?” She responded nearly all too sweetly for what she really felt on the inside. “I- I made you some tea.”

“I see that.” She cut through them quickly, though they knew she didn’t mean malice by it. Now or never-

“Will you hold something for me, Shinobu?” Her pen movements halted all together, a long breath escaping through her nostrils. In a swift motion she set her pen on the desk calmly. Turning her attention toward them and extending her hand out toward them. ‘Tread carefully (Y/N)!’ They told themselves to try and gain some confidence back from her cry reaction.

Before they lost their nerve, (Y/N) quickly placed their hand into hers. Snuggly wrapping her fingers around Shinobu’s hand. This seemed to take her back a moment, her eyes flickering back at forth between their face and their now intertwined hands. She sighed, her shoulders dropping in surrender. “Alright, alright, only a few minutes. Then I must complete these discharges.” She spoke firmly, but an inkling of a smile danced at the corner of her lips. (Y/N) agreed eagerly, happily keeping a hold of Shinobu’s hand while she sipped on her warm tea.

Overall: A smidge annoyed, but appreciates the effort. Might bring it up later in private conversation. Personally I think she’d have the softest hands of the bunch.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sanemi: I had to really think about this one and his probably a little ooc but I still did my best- Lo and behold, Sanemis is practically stomping through the compound clearly aggravated about something. When isn’t he- (Y/N) catches him out of the corner of their eye and quickly excuses themselves from their current conversation. They’re fully aware Sanemi’s in a sour mood. Even so, it didn’t deter them from their destination. The moment (Y/N) was in Sanemi’s line of sight, a low growl vibrated from him. “What do you want?”He snapped immediately.

(Y/N) gave a shy wave and greeting. Wondering in the back of their mind if this was a really good idea-

“Would you hold something for me?”

“Huh?” He brow raised and his mouth hung open.

“I-I said would you please hold something for me?”

He scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. They stood their looking at each other for a few second before he reluctantly stuck out his hand. “I swear if you put something wet in my hand-���

A blush instantly blossoms on the man’s face when they slip their hand into his. He allowed it at first, even as the heat creeps onto his face. However, once he realizes whats happening he retracts his hand and turns away from them. Hiding his crimson cheeks. “Idiot, what was that for!”He screamed and (Y/n) can’t help themselves but go into a giggling fit.

Overall: Highly annoyed and flustered at the same time Xp

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Gyomei: It’s a peaceful morning with Gyomei. Sitting on the mountain side with the river lulling the birds nearby. They sat together along the tree’s, basking in the tranquility. It was often the pair found themselves like this. Seeking the moments where the world seemed to stand still. One craved those moments when a world such as theirs existed with nothing but constant violence.

Which was why (Y/N) had come up with the idea they were about to execute. They redirected their gaze to the man sitting a few feet away from them, admiring the features of his face and how he sat in prayer. Though, the second their eyes landed on him, his head perked up to look at them. “Gyomei, will you hold something for me?”

His expression never moved, yet, he nodded, slowly extending his large muscular hand toward them. The beads on his hand softly clanking against one another in the process. Their hand (Much like Tengen) was completely swallowed by his large hand. It seemed to take him a moment to realize what he was holding. The pad of his thumb running alongside (Y/N) cold knuckles.

“Oh.” The word was barely auditable and seemingly the only comment Gyomei came up with. They were almost worried they’d crossed a boundary… then the tears began to cascade over hid face. “How sweet. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Overall: Now your both crying

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

1968 [Chapter 10: Poseidon, God Of The Sea]

A/N: Only 2 chapters left!!! 🥰💜

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 7.2k

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 🥰

💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

It’s Friday, November 1st, and it begins like every day does: with you sneaking a birth control pill and swallowing it with a handful of cool water from the sink. Aemond is usually gone before you wake up—writing speeches, reading newspapers, strategizing with Otto and Criston and Sargent Shriver—but you always lock the bathroom door just in case he reappears. You’ve popped the tiny pink pills out of their circular packages and hidden them in hollowed-out tampons, each opening sealed with cotton balls. You don’t like taking the pills; you don’t fully understand how they work, and you don’t like feeling out of tune with your body’s own rhythms, but they are infinitely better than the alternative. You can’t imagine having to carry Aemond’s child now, sacrificing your comfort, your health, your future, your life for a man who doesn’t know the real you and doesn’t want to. You return the modified tampon to the box you keep in the linen closet, then begin to pin up your hair.

When you venture downstairs, you’ve thrown on a long flowing floral skirt and chunky black sweater, black flats, small unceremonious gold hoops in your ears. You’ll have to change before the journalists arrive to fawn over the children as they bake homemade apple pies this afternoon. You’ll have to wear whatever Aemond tells you to. But presently, it’s Aegon you’re looking for; you begin with the basement.

He isn’t sprawled across his futon, he isn’t lazing on the floor. He isn’t there at all. As you stand on the steps, you see only Eudoxia, muttering irritably in Greek and crawling around on her hands and knees as she picks globs of red out of the shag carpet.

“What is wrong with him?” she says when she glances at you. “Can you believe this? Melted candle wax everywhere. He is a pig. A pig! Someone should make bacon out of him. Then he could finally be useful. He’s just about fat enough. He could feed the whole family, and all the dogs too.”

You don’t know how to reply; you can’t apologize for helping to make the mess, you can’t agree that Aegon is a plague and nothing more. “Do you want help cleaning up?”

“If Aemond saw me putting you to work, I would be deported back to Tyrnavos.”

“No, Doxie. Asteria would fall into the sea without you.”

She peers up at you through fallen strands of her hair, dyed a palpably artificial pitch black. Then she grins, large doughy cheeks, crinkles around her eyes. “Go help Aemond win his election.”

“Yes ma’am,” you say dutifully, and head back upstairs.

In the living room, Aemond and Otto are hissing like snakes as they leaf through the Wall Street Journal. The newspaper reports that Nixon’s poll numbers are climbing in this crucial eleventh hour. They can’t decide if that’s true or if the Wall Street Journal, a Nixon-friendly publication, is trying to give him a little extra momentum as Election Day approaches. Criston nods at you from where he sits on the couch, looking exhausted, dark shadows around his eyes and shoulders slumped low; Aemond and Otto don’t notice you at all. You keep moving.

There is chatter and giggling and the clanging of bowls and pans in the kitchen. You peek inside from the doorway. Fosco, Helaena, and the nannies are making pancakes with the children. Butter sizzles, spatulas scrape, bubbles appear in wells of batter. Helaena is lifting Evangelos so he can pour a cupful of smooth, milky batter into one of the pans on the stovetop. Cosmo, drizzling maple syrup over an ambitiously tall stack of pancakes, waves at you. You smile and wave back. In the corner of the room, Ludwika is smoking one of her Camels and shooing away Aegon’s second-youngest son Thaddeus, whose fingers are covered with flour.

“Please take your paws elsewhere,” Ludwika says, flicking ashes into the kitchen sink. “This dress is Prada.”

Fosco spots you. “Would you like some pancakes?” he asks as he approaches, wiping his palms on the apron tied around his slim waist. Flour dusts his eyeglasses. “We have enough batter to make about 500. Although I cannot promise they will not be burnt. Our chefs are rather inexperienced.”

“Thanks, but I’m not really hungry.” You take one last look around the kitchen, wondering where Aegon could be.

Fosco understands. His voice drops low and discrete. “I have not seen him this morning.”

“He isn’t usually up yet.”

“He’s not, this is true.” Fosco taps his chin, leaving white dabs of flour there. “Maybe he’s sailing?”

“Maybe. I’ll check.”

“And I have no idea where you’re going or why,” Fosco says with a wink before returning to the stove.

Outside it’s grey, misty, only 50 degrees. It would be a bad day for sailing. The wind rips at your clothes and your hair like a man’s lustful hands; the waves are choppy and treacherous. You think of Icarus plummeting into the ocean, of Andromeda being offered as a sacrifice to assuage Poseidon’s wrath, of sirens beckoning doomed sailors. From where you’re standing in the backyard of the main house, shivering with your arms crossed over your chest, you can’t see Aegon’s boat Sunfyre bobbing in the rough surf. You turn left to investigate Helaena’s withered garden.

As you walk, the hem of your skirt dragging dead autumn leaves, you skim your fingertips over the evergreen emerald hedges, cool and damp. At the center of the garden—like a diamond in a wedding ring, like the sun surrounded by its planets—you don’t find Aegon smoking a joint or napping under Zeus’s shadow, only a silent stone circle of gods who watch you with unmoving, all-knowing eyes. You spin slowly, studying each of them, deities who loved and cheated and offered mercy and cursed and killed. From his gurgling fountain in the middle of the clearing, Zeus glares at you most fiercely, wielding his lightning bolts, aching to loose them. The wind rattles the leaves of the hedges; crows caw from somewhere out in the mist.

“Oh! You’re here, darling?” Alicent says from the arched doorway cut into the greenery. She’s pushing Viserys in his wheelchair. Sparse white spiderweb-strands of hair hang limply from his head, mottled with liver spots. His fingers are bony and clawlike. “In this awful weather?”

You scramble for an explanation. “I just, um, needed some quiet.”

“Yes, the children are very rambunctious this morning, aren’t they?”

“Children?” Viserys echoes, as if he is only just learning of them.

“Your grandchildren,” Alicent reminds him. “Aegon and Helaena’s kids. Orion, Spiro, Violeta, Thaddeus, Cosmo, Daphne, Evangelos, and…” Panic crosses her face. She realizes she’s forgotten one, but she doesn’t know who.

“Neaera,” you say.

“Of course. Such a sweet girl, gentle like a lamb.”

You weren’t blessed with that sort of disposition. Sometimes you wish you were. Life seems easier for women who don’t feel bitterness or forbidden ambition, who pain moves cleanly through like clear water. They have no thorns for it to snag on and grow roots into the bones, the soul. They are never at risk of becoming poisonous like Jupiter’s moon Io. “What brings you to the garden on a day this dreary?”

“I feel close to them here,” Viserys rasps.

You stare down at him, baffled. “Close to who, sir?” You rarely interact with the ailing patriarch of the Targaryen family. He is often confined to his bedroom, attended by Alicent and Eudoxia and his nurses, and even when he is physically present his mind is sluggish, alien, impenetrable. Now Alicent’s eyes are downcast, and she drifts away to inspect the statue of Poseidon, a formidable bearded man holding a trident and with dolphins and sea turtles emerging from the waves of white marble at his bare feet.

“I left them back in Greece,” Viserys says, his gaunt face vacant, distant, vaguely sad. He is bundled up in a thick wool robe that hides how skeletal he has become. “I thought about having them brought over to be interred at the mausoleum, but it felt wrong to disturb their bones. Now I cannot visit their graves. I can only hear them here, among the gods our ancestors worshiped.”

“Who…?”

“Aemma and Rhaenyra,” Alicent tells you from where she now stands by Aphrodite, gazing longingly at the goddess of love. You notice that she is clutching a komboskini in one hand; she must believe that what her husband is saying is blasphemy, but she doesn’t condemn him. “Viserys had a wife and daughter before he met me.”

You feel a sudden and overwhelming stab of grief for the old man; you are thinking of Ari. “What happened?”

“The sea took them,” Viserys explains. “A riptide off the coast of Euboea. We found their bodies three days later.”

“Oh God. I’m…I’m so sorry for your loss.” You don’t know what else to say; it’s too disastrous, too unspeakable.

“Aemma was pregnant. It was a boy. She delivered him in the water, a coffin birth.” And you know from his face, his voice, that Alicent and her children never stood a chance, that Viserys has only one true family, only one set of names carved into the scarlet chambers of his failing heart. You think of Aemond’s heart, claimed by Alys and her son; you think of your own.

“They’re at peace, Viserys,” Alicent says. “They are in heaven with my mother and Ari and Mimi.”

He continues, as if he hasn’t heard her: “I thought that if I made something of myself in America, if I helped contribute something incredible to the world, then they would not have died for nothing.” Viserys reaches out with trembling, gnarled hands, and when you realize he wants to hold yours you let him. His grasp is weak and cold. “Aemond will be president. He will save countless lives, he will save this nation’s soul. And you have made that possible.”

Where’s Aegon? Is he okay? Why is no one else ever looking for him? “Thank you, sir.”

Viserys begins hacking, doubling over in his wheelchair, and Alicent hurries to soothe him and provide a handkerchief that Helaena embroidered green spiders onto. When he has recovered, you leave them with the gods: Viserys to grieve his old life, Alicent to mourn the one she never had.

You plod through sand dunes out to the Atlantic Ocean, peering into the fog as you search for Aegon’s sailboat. Still, there is no sign of him. You glance back towards the main house as sea spray peppers your cheeks and your knuckles. You’re beginning to get nervous. Where the hell is he? Is he passed out somewhere, is he sick, is he hurt?

And then, at last, you see him: sitting at the bottom of a small bluff so he is invisible to anyone not at the water’s edge, arms linked around his bent knees, not smoking, not drinking, not gulping pills, just gazing out into the waves that thrash and rumble beneath a grey sky, his too-long blonde hair whipping in the wind. He wears one of Daeron’s army jackets over a white turtleneck sweater, ripped jeans, no shoes, a collection of other men’s dog tags slung around his neck.

“Hey,” you say as you join him, dropping down onto the cool, crumbling sand.

Aegon smiles. “Hey.”

“It’s strange to see you awake before noon.”

“Yeah…I didn’t really sleep.” No, he didn’t, you can tell: his eyes are bloodshot and his voice tired, husky. He is watching you, so hopeful but so afraid. “What are we gonna do?”

About us. About Aemond. “If he loses on Tuesday, I can leave him.”

“What if he wins?”

You don’t have a good answer. You shrug, avoiding Aegon’s eyes. “It’s not forever, you know? It would be four years, and then…”

“Four years?” Aegon says. “No, I can’t wait another four years. I’ve been waiting my whole life for something like this. And what if he gets a second term? Eight years? I’ll be almost fifty. We’ve already lost so much time, I can’t surrender another decade.”

“Aegon, first ladies don’t quit. It’s never happened before, not once since 1789. It’s a part of the democratic process. People aren’t just voting for Aemond, they’re voting for me too. You know that. You told me we were a package deal, and you were right. If they trust me and I walk away, it’s…it’s…it’s treason, it’s abandonment, it’s wrong. And Aemond needs to have the political credibility to get what he wants done.”

“Look,” Aegon says, like it pains him. “I get that my life is already half over, and I haven’t done anything worthwhile with the last forty years, but I want to be different. I want to be better. And I can do that, but I need you to give me a chance.”

“You think Aemond would let me leave? If I publicly humiliated and undermined him?”

“We don’t need Aemond, we could figure it out—”

“What do you think he and Otto would do to you, Aegon? They would ruin you anywhere you go, they would have you declared mentally unfit and take your children away.”

“They don’t own us!”

“They do,” you insist. “And if you try to fight them it will destroy you. You’ve never cared about strategy, and I love that you’re truthful, and I love that you’re real, but I need you to understand what you’re asking for right now.”

“But he breaks the rules,” Aegon says, and his eyes are glistening. “He has Alys. He has a kid out of wedlock.”

“Yes,” you agree softly.

“And what, I’m supposed to hope Aemond loses?” Aegon swipes tears from his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Because that’s the only way I get to touch you? Nixon wins and more draftees get butchered in Vietnam, and Daeron doesn’t come home, and the white supremacists get to resegregate the beaches at Biloxi, Mississippi and wherever the hell else they want to, and civil rights protesters get attacked by police dogs, and teenagers get sentenced to decades in prison for marijuana possession?”

“I’m sorry.” You can’t tell him he’s mistaken about any of that. He isn’t.

“I’ve spent my whole fucking life in a cage, but I’ve never felt this powerless.”

“Aegon?”

“Yeah.”

“Am I…” It’s terrifying to ask. “Am I the same way Mimi was when she was younger? Is that why you like me?”

“No,” he says immediately. “No, you’re different than Mimi. Mimi was fun, and we could party together, and I cared about her, obviously, but…” He stares out at the ocean, shaking his head. “She wasn’t as strong as you. And she couldn’t really get to me. I feel like you could kill me if you wanted to, you could reach inside my chest any time it crossed your mind and crush me in your fist and I’d be gone.”

You stretch out your fingertips until they collide with his sweater, warm yielding flesh woven over his ribs. “Not so easy,” you say. And then Aegon smiles and he leans in to kiss you, the ocean roaring like an ancient beast, a titan, a maelstrom. The wind rakes through your hair and stings your eyes. You ask when he rests his forehead against yours, your hand on his face, your thumb stroking his cheek: “Do you wish you could go back to when you hated me?”

“Never. I’ve gotten used to not being alone.”

“The kids made pancakes. You should go have some.”

“Come with me.”

“You first. I’ll be five minutes behind you. We shouldn’t walk to the house together.”

“Why?” Aegon teases. “Because people might think we fucked in the basement last night?”

“I’ve already told them. Aemond is waiting for you in the kitchen with a bazooka.”

Aegon laughs and struggles to his bare feet, slipping on the sand. “Okay. See you soon.”

“See ya.” Once he’s gone, you recite the full length of Here’s To The State Of Mississippi in your head, then trek across the sand and through the backyard to rejoin the rest of the Targaryens.

When you open the sliding glass door, Otto is standing in the hallway. His icy blue eyes sweep from your simple black flats to your windswept hair, still pinned up but unacceptably tousled. “Why the hell aren’t you dressed for the reporters?”

“Because they won’t be here for another two hours. Surely you are well-acquainted with the itinerary that you yourself arranged.”

“Don’t get yourself in trouble, girl.”

“Remember when you used to defer to me about things? Were you stupid then, or are you stupid now?”

“Do you know what Joe Kennedy did when his daughter Rosemary threatened the family’s reputation?” Otto says, eyes glittering cruelly.

You really don’t know; you weren’t aware that JFK had a sister named Rosemary. “What?”

“He took her to a surgeon to be lobotomized. Now she’s hidden away in a little cottage in Wisconsin, can’t speak, can’t walk, with full-time nurses to wipe the drool off her face and change her diapers. How would you like that? Would your obscene little flirtation still be worth it? We could tell people that you were in a car accident or fell down the stairs. The doctors go in through the eye socket, you know. And you’re awake the whole time.”

“You can’t do that to me,” you say, shellshocked.

“Oh, if that’s what it takes, I’ll find the will somehow.”

There is shouting from the basement, and you and Otto both bolt for the staircase. At the bottom of the steps, Aegon and Eudoxia are embroiled in a ferocious confrontation, red faces, hands itching to slap and shove. Aegon roars, jabbing his index finger at her like a petulant teenager: “I told you to stay the fuck out of my room!”

“You are filthy, you leave crumbs everywhere! We will have mice!”

“Where’s the garbage?” Aegon demands. “Huh? Where’d you put it? Out by the curb?”

“It has already been picked up.”

“No, no way! That’s bullshit!”

“You’re too late!” Doxie says. “The truck went by 20 minutes ago. And why is this a problem? What precious heirloom did I steal from you? An empty rum bottle? A magazine full of naked women? Candy wrappers, cigarette ashes, melted candle wax? You live like a pig, you should not be so outraged when you are treated the same as one.”

“Aegon, what happened?” you ask. Otto is equally bewildered, surveying the markedly clean basement, his brow knitted into deep crevices.

Aegon doesn’t answer. He only glances at you—frustration, anger, but shame too—and then sighs in defeat and stomps up the stairs to the main floor of the house.

Eudoxia looks at Otto and shrugs nonchalantly. “At least there were not so many used condoms this time.”

Your gaze catches on the end table by the futon. The empty cups are gone, the ashtray is spotless…and there is no folded white corner of a receipt poking out from under it.

The math problem from Mount Sinai, you think, that relic, that talisman, that worthless scrap of paper that Aegon never wanted to talk about but kept so close to him, just like you cling to the card he gave you and Aemond cherishes his engraved Ouija board. It’s gone. It’s almost like it never happened.

~~~~~~~~~~

After the journalists arrive and the apple pies, so quintessentially all-American, are made—you help Cosmo with his job, layering strips of dough into lattice crusts that turn golden in the oven, glinting with sugar crystals like diamonds—Aemond’s retinue begins the last of their campaign stops by travelling via limousines to Philadelphia, just an hour and a half across the width of New Jersey and over the Delaware River. In your penthouse suite at the Ritz-Carlton, you soak in a bath opaque with bubbles, steam hot and dewy on your skin. Your hair is long and free. The Zenith radio out in the kitchenette is playing Tomorrow Never Knows by the Beatles.

Your hands have just slipped beneath the hot water—your skull full of Aegon, things he’s done, things he’s said—when you hear the bathroom door open behind you. You rest your arms on the spotless white rim of the tub, porcelain-enameled steel, and try not to look like you’ve been interrupted. Aemond’s footsteps cross the linoleum floor, then he kneels by the bathtub and wraps his arms around you, his long uncalloused fingers skating over your shoulder, collarbones, nipples, before linking like a long necklace. He likes you best like this, when your scar is hidden, something that might have been a nightmare or a sad story that happened to somebody else. He rests the mutilated left half of his face against the right side of yours; his eyepatch scratches against your temple. You shift uncomfortably, you can’t help it. You don’t want him touching you. His arms tighten around your ribs.

“You know, JFK’s mother went through a crisis of sorts as a young wife,” Aemond says calmly. “She realized her husband was a hopeless philanderer and tried to leave him and go back to her parents. But her father sat her down and explained that she had made a commitment. Marriage is for life, and you don’t abandon your vows when the circumstances prove difficult. So she went back to Joe. And if she hadn’t, there never would have been a John F. Kennedy, or a Bobby, or a Eunice or a Ted, or a million other things too.”

“I am so fucking sick of hearing about the Kennedys.”

“You used to love being compared to Jackie.”

“I’m not her. I’m never going to be her.”

“I’m giving up things too,” Aemond says. Now he’s combing his fingers through your hair, unraveling tiny knots, yanking at your scalp. “If I win, I won’t be able to see Alys and our son. It would be too risky, someone might catch me. For as long as I’m president, I’ll have to be apart from them. You don’t think that’s painful? But Alys understands. She knows it’s for the greater good.”

“Please stop touching me.”

“You’re mine to touch as much as I want to.”

You stare at the seafoam green wall and try to pretend you’re in another place, another year.

“I’ve been thinking,” Aemond says sympathetically, an appeasing sort of tone, like he’s trying to strike a bargain. “I’m a realist, I’m aware that I can’t keep you locked up in a basement or put you in a straightjacket for the next fifty years. That doesn’t serve either of us. If you are truly desperate to be rid of me, there’s nothing I can do to change your mind. And I require a partner who is fully committed to my cause, my legacy. Not a captive. I can’t fight Nixon and you too.”

You twist around in the tub to look at him, skeptical, amazed. Is there a way out? “So what are you offering?”

“I need you for as long as I’m president,” Aemond says. “If I win, I need you for at least four years, probably eight. And a short while after that to establish myself in retirement and fade from the headlines, another few years. But then…we could work out some arrangement that is mutually agreeable.”

The hope is so fragile, so fearful, splintering glass. “You would let me go?”

“We’d have to negotiate the details, particularly as far as our future children are concerned, but…yes. In some sense, at least.”

You can’t find any words. You don’t want to offend him, to shatter this moment. And yet the price is so steep. Four years, eight years, ten years. But then…but then…

Aemond smiles, his remaining blue eye bright and cunning. His fingertips trace the slope of your jaw. “I care so deeply for you. You are my Aphrodite, you have made my wildest ambitions possible. You will help me save this country. I am worshiped because of you, I am trusted, I am envied. No one has a wife as beloved as mine, and everybody knows it. So I feel…I’ve considered…” His hand moves down to your throat, drawing invisible chains of gold or silver. “If you’ve given me so much, I can extend some mercy in return.”

“You can’t harm Aegon,” you say. “Or take his children away, or do anything else to punish him.” And then you lie, a necessary fiction, an invention, a myth, Prometheus stealing fire to give it to humans, Zeus hiding Io from Hera. “He hasn’t betrayed you.” And he’s saved me over and over again.

“Of course I won’t harm Aegon. I need him too. This act he has now of the devoted, reformed, tragedy-besieged single father? People adore it. At this rate, I’ll be able to make him the attorney general for my second term if he uses the next four years to rack up some experience. And his children are gold mines for the photographers. They have filled the void left by our own son’s death.”

“Ari,” you say.

“What?”

“He had a name. He wasn’t just ‘a son’ or ‘our son.’ His name was Ari.”

“You’ll feel better once we’ve had others.” Aemond stands and holds out a hand to you. He’s wearing a black suit like he’s getting married, like he’s going to a funeral.

You gaze up at him, not wanting to leave the water. You belong to him, but when he touches you it feels like the earth dying when Persephone is stolen away by Hades each autumn, it feels like Eurydice’s spiderweb-fragile life evaporating when Orpheus dared to look back at her as he led her out of the Underworld. “What if I can’t get pregnant again?” you ask. “It took over a year the first time. And the surgery…what if there’s too much scar tissue, what if I’m just…just…broken?” There’s real pain in your voice that staves off any suspicion Aemond might have. You do want more children, you believe, you know; just not with him.

“Then it is God’s will. But we’ll keep trying.”

Aemond draws you out of the water like a fish from the sea, something to devour, skin and muscle, delicate bones sucked clean.

~~~~~~~~~~

The sunlight is cloudless and glaring. Leaves swirl in the brisk wind in jewel tones: gold, ruby, fire opal, honey calcite, tiger’s eye, red jasper. Aemond has just finished a speech at Franklin Delano Roosevelt Park, standing in a stone gazebo that you can’t help but think resembles a Greek temple, tall columns that house deities of love and death, oceans and fire. Alicent and Helaena have taken the children to attend the opening of a new public library on the other side of the city. The rest of Aemond’s entourage—you, Criston, Otto, Ludwika, Fosco, Aegon—are arranged in a semicircle around him on the stage. Only 50 yards away, there is a small parking lot full of police and press vehicles. Philadelphia residents have walked miles to hear Aemond speak, to glimpse him, to cheer for him, to take leaves he’s stepped on or loose threads from his navy blue suit as relics like the bones of a saint. You match him, as you always must: navy blue dress, high heels, hair neat, makeup mature and understated, gold jewelry gleaming on your ears, throat, wrist. Ravens flap their wings from the skeletal limbs of bare trees. A car radio is blaring Break On Through by The Doors.

“Senator Targaryen,” a reporter calls as flashbulbs strobe dizzyingly. “What do you think about Tommie Smith and John Carlos getting death threats for raising their fists in the Black Power salute at the Olympics in Mexico City?”

There is a split-second lull; it is a difficult question. Aemond must remain the savior of the hippies and college kids and civil rights activists, yet he must not let the old-money urban elite or suburban families mistake him for a discord-sowing radical. You and Aegon exchange a glance; Otto placed him on the opposite side of the gazebo, and this is not a coincidence. Then Aemond decides what to say. “Peaceful protests—even those that can make us confused, defensive, fearful—are not a threat to democracy,” he speaks into the microphone steadily, deliberately, commandingly. The crowd leans forward as they listen, enraptured. Journalists’ pens fly across the pages of their notebooks. “They are not the harbingers of some doomed descent into anarchy. They are a manifestation of the fact that we have already failed. Our nation has failed, our laws and our leaders have failed, and this is our chance to address those dire inadequacies. I urge every single American to listen to what Mr. Smith and Mr. Carlos have actually said about their concerns and their hopes, to be empathetic, to be honest when reflecting on what our country has achieved and yet so desperately still needs to improve upon. These men are not enemies of the United States. They are the United States. They are a part of us, and we are a part of them, and we must not allow prejudiced, ignorant voices”—he means Wallace, he means Nixon—“to draw divides between us. The harassment that Mr. Smith, Mr. Carlos, and their families have experienced is a travesty. It is something that we should expect from a fascist or communist regime, not from a democracy. And to do my small part to show my admiration for them and atone for the mistakes of this nation that I so fervently hope to make better, I would like to personally fund private security services for the households of Mr. Smith and Mr. Carlos for the foreseeable future.”

The crowd erupts into applause, cheers shouted, signs held aloft. Your eyes snag on one, clutched by a middle-aged woman bundled up against the cold; only her eyes—grey, tearful, shining like quarters—are visible above the red plaid of her thick wool scarf. On her sign is a large photograph of a young man in uniform, maybe nineteen, maybe twenty. Below the photo in red marker is written: Ryan Farrelly, my youngest son, burned to death in Phan Thiet on September 21st. Bring Daeron home! Bring them ALL home!

The woman waves at you. You raise your hand wave back. And then there is a sound that comes from everywhere, a boom of thunder, an explosion, bullets like the one that demolished Aemond’s left eye in Palm Beach back in May, a lifetime ago, a truth that has become mythology. There is something hot and sticky splattered across your face, and you can’t see; when you wipe it away with your sleeve and open your eyes, there is a hole in your palm that you can look through like a window.

Where else?

But when you check your chest, your belly, you are whole. It is only a hand would, and that won’t kill you. It doesn’t even hurt yet, though the blood runs in torrents down your arm. You peer frantically around to see if anyone else is hurt.

Aegon, Fosco, Ludwika, Criston??

People are rushing the stage to shield Aemond and his family from bullets. Police are tackling somebody in the audience and beating him bloody with their batons. Aegon is screaming and shoving through the chaos as he fights his way towards you. Otto slams him against one of the columns of the gazebo and holds him there, because Aegon is not the one who’s supposed to get to you first. Now Aemond’s arms are around you, and he is ushering you down the stone steps towards the parking lot, and Criston is running alongside him and telling Aemond that the closest hospital is Jefferson Methodist, but UPenn is better and only two miles farther.

“Who else?” you ask as you cradle your hand against your chest, blood turning your dress from navy to black. Now it hurts plenty, like waking up from your c-section, like a crimson wave that is scalding and crushing and dragging you under to be drowned. “Is anyone else—?”

“No, just you,” Criston says, a reassuring grip on your shoulder. “Don’t worry. Nobody else is hurt.”

“Senator Targaryen, this way!” a police officer is yelling, and he leads the three of you to his black and white car. Criston leaps into the passenger seat; Aemond pulls you into the back with him and slams the door. The sirens shriek and the police officer careens out of the parking lot, Criston giving directions, Aemond yanking off his suit jacket to wrap around your hemorrhaging hand.

“I’m not going to lose it, am I?” you ask dazedly. None of this seems real. You wish Aegon was here. “I need my hands.”

“No, honey. I don’t think they’ll have to amputate.” Then Aemond stares down at the blood on his palms, warm scarlet ruin, water and oxygen and iron that once pulsed in your arteries and veins and now stains him. He frowns, then wipes his hands on his white shirt until almost all the blood is gone from his skin. He is cleaning you off of him. He is readying himself for the cameras that will undoubtedly be waiting at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania.

Inside the glass doors of the building, dust motes circle in aisles of sunlight; you watch them as doctors and nurses push you towards the operating room on a stretcher.

“We’re going to take excellent care of you, Mrs. Targaryen,” a doctor says as he ties a sterile white mask over his nose and mouth.

Don’t let Ari die, you almost murmur in response; and then you remember that’s already happened.

There are needles gliding into your veins, bright lights, pain vanishing like the memory of a dream dissolving when you wake.

~~~~~~~~~~

Four hours later, you are propped up in bed on a mountain of pillows, your hand surgically repaired and bandaged, morphine in your IV drip. The doctors think you shouldn’t lose much function—the bullet was from a pistol, blessedly small in size and missing most of your major tendons and nerves—but you won’t know for sure until it’s healed. Ludwika is here with you, lounging in the chair beside your bed and flipping through a copy of Cosmopolitan with her Louis Vuitton stilettos propped up on the ottoman. She is content to be here, but this is technically a job; she has been tasked with supervising you while Aemond and Otto meet with the Philadelphia police who are investigating the attack. The rest of the family—everyone except Aegon, who you suspect has been forbidden to enter the premises—has already been here to fret over you and ask if you need anything. But you aren’t in the mood for visitors. You are stunned, and aching, and you hate hospitals. You keep thinking of tiny babies in incubators, priests in black robes.

Your room is already filling up with flower bouquets. Every few minutes, the phone rings and Ludwika has to answer it. Each time she announces who it is—“Oh, hello Lady Bird, so nice of you to offer your well-wishes!” and then looks to see if you nod, agreeing to take it. The current first lady says that you are already as beloved as Jackie Kennedy and Eleanor Roosevelt. Pat Nixon calls you a gladiator.

There is a mint green Zenith radio on your nightstand, the volume turned way down low, and a television mounted on the wall. NBC news is on, but you’ve muted it to attend to the barrage of phone calls. There is a knock on the doorframe. Aegon stands there in his khaki pants and ill-fitting viridian button-up shirt and tan moccasins, wide searching murky blue eyes, carrying a white Dairy Queen cup.

Ludwika observes him as she puffs on a Camel cigarette. “I am suddenly struck by the inspiration to spend Otto’s money at the gift shop. I hope they take American Express.” She rolls up her magazine, shoves it into her oversized Gucci purse, and clicks in her heels out of the room and down the hallway.

Aegon commandeers the chair and drags it closer to your bed so he can feel your cheeks and your forehead, so he can get a good look at you. “Hey, little Io. You hurt your hoof, huh?”

“It’s not that bad. The caliber of the bullet was really small. Who shot me? One of Wallace’s Klansmen?”

“No, just some insane guy who thinks Aemond is a Russian double agent trying to overthrow capitalism here and put us all in gulags. I heard you could see right through the wound.”

“Yeah, I had a hole in my palm.”

“Just like Jesus.”

“I guess they fixed it.”

“Messiah status revoked.” Aegon sets the Dairy Queen cup on your nightstand. “I brought you a lemon-lime Mr. Misty.”

“I need to get out of here.”

“They gotta make sure you’re okay, babe. You could spike a fever or something.”

“Aegon,” you say seriously. “I can’t be in a hospital. I need to leave.”

He understands; his voice is gentle. “I might be able to get you out tonight, okay? I’ll try. I’ll talk to the doctors.”

“Okay,” you whimper.

Aegon turns up the Zenith radio, Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl. He sings along, snapping his fingers and shimmying his shoulders, his hair shagging over his eyes:

“Hey, where did we go?

Days when the rains came

Down in the hollow

Playin’ a new game…”

Reluctantly, you give him a smile. And you think very clearly, though you don’t say it: I love you.

Aegon leans across the bed to rest his head on your lap. He says softly as you run your fingers through his hair with your good hand: “Maybe Aemond will lose.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

On the muted television, Nixon is giving a speech in Charlotte, North Carolina to a euphoric crowd. You can’t hear the people gathered there, but you know their applause are thunderous. Nixon is flashing peace signs with both hands and beaming radiantly, this man who was once so poor, tragic, ordinary, unwanted, unloved. He has learned what it feels like to be a god.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Sunday, November 3rd, and your hand hurts like hell. You swallow your pills, smiling a little. Now Aegon is getting clean and I’m the one swimming in a haze of narcotics. Who could have predicted that? Still in your robe and bare feet, you swish to the hotel bathroom to wash your face, brush your teeth, rebandage your hand and make sure it isn’t growing dark insidious vines of blood poisoning.

When you venture out to the kitchenette, Aemond is in a sapphire blue suit and seated at the table, reading the Wall Street Journal, his face hidden by columns of black ink and interspersed photographs. This is unusual; he should be scheming with Otto and Sargent Shriver by now.

“Everything okay?” you ask with only vague interest as you go to the refrigerator to get yourself a leftover slice of apple pie, meticulously wrapped and packed in a cooler by Eudoxia before your departure from Asteria. Aemond doesn’t answer. You plop a piece of apple pie onto a plate, return the rest to the refrigerator, and then turn to your husband. And only now do you register the newspaper’s front-page story.

The photographs, all three of them, are of you and Aegon. They are blurry, taken from a distance, but you recognize the moment immediately. You can feel it again: ocean wind in your hair, his lips on yours, your hand on his face as you willed him to be closer, healed, permanent. You are sitting at the edge of the Atlantic Ocean, turbulent and perilous. The journalists must have been north of you, shrouded in mist, their camera shutters clicking feverishly. The headline reads: A Family Affair?

And you remember what Aemond said on your 23rd birthday before he left for the Washington State Convention in Tacoma, how he scolded Aegon when he saw him lighting a joint in the backyard at Asteria: You know journalists will sneak around trying to get photos. You know we’re never truly alone out here.

You can’t speak, you can’t breathe. Aemond knows. The whole world knows.

Slowly, Aemond lowers the newspaper so you can see his face, scarred and hateful and horrifying, lethal like the volcanic hellscape of Jupiter’s most cursed moon.

~~~~~~~~~~

What are my earliest memories? Aegon getting drunk on his futon in the basement while I played with toy soldiers on the green shag carpet, Aemond with his poems and his myths, Helaena letting a praying mantis creep across her knuckles, Criston teaching me how to swim and sail, my mother cleaning sand from my face and hands and giving me water to wash the grit out of my teeth, my father wandering through the doorways of Asteria like a ghost, always on the periphery of my vision, and I had the sense that if I reached out to touch him my hands would pass resistlessly through his skin and sinew like a stone through water.

These are the things I think of here in the rain-dripping darkness, bruises down to my bones, eyes swollen almost completely shut, teeth broken and throbbing like blows from a hammer, fingernails ripped out. I know Tessarion is here because I can hear her, soft sympathetic squeaks, the padding of her tiny feet. I know John McCain is still alive because sometimes he taps back through the cracked concrete wall. I have run out of folklore, so now I tell him the truth. I tell him that I am afraid each beating will kill me as my body becomes a stranger, someone weak and brittle and helpless. I tell him that all my life I wanted to run as far as I could from home, but now I would crawl back to them through razor wire, I would fall into their arms in a shredded bloodstained heap and I’d be happy to do it. Isn’t that funny? I mean, I don’t laugh much these days. But maybe you can appreciate the irony.

Has the election happened yet? Has Aemond won? I’ve lost track of the days, but it has to be getting close to November 5th. What happens if he can’t get me out? What happens if Nixon wins?

I don’t want to be a hero anymore. I don’t want to have adventures like Heracles, Achilles, Jason, Odysseus, Perseus, Orpheus, Ajax. I just want to go home. Please let me go home.

I can hear keys jangling against the lock on my cell door. My heart jolts into a breakneck, pounding rhythm; I think that sound will terrify me all my life. Some things you just can’t forget, you know? Some things dig down deep and build a home in the marrow of your bones, a rust-red cave of immutable memory. I know exactly what the communists want from me. They’ve been asking since they dragged me out of the Loach four months ago.

Everyone has a breaking point. This is mine.