#it just never crosses his mind that childe might notice the same on him

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

So, Zhongli is trying to be subtle around main cast, I’m guessing he hasn’t noticed that Childe is noticing some of his quirks?

yep yep that's the thing, he's not aware that childe is noticing Stuff. like he knows he's not dumb but he didn't get to know the harbinger nearly enough to realize that childe would Catch On to some things

[dclovesdanny]

Dead Serious

4/4

Danny had made peace with the fact he did not have a soulmate. He had! After several years of no response to the countless drawings and writing notes on his skin, he had grown resigned to the fact that he was part of the 5% who did not have soulmates. He was fine with that.

(Dash would tease him about how no one would ever love him, adding salt to an already irritated wound. His parents were soulmates, and he remembered when he was drawing on his father’s arms and watching as it appeared on his mother’s. Jazz had been drawing and writing to her soulmate for years. Her soulmates name was Jason, and she always talked about how he was with her. She was one of the few people who comforted him when he stopped drawing or writing to soulmate. )

Damien taught at an early age that there was no use for soulmates. They were only distractions. He knew grandfather had no soulmate, and his mother had never responded to her own. He never responded to the drawings on his arms notes the notes in English on his (and he didn’t try harder just because he wanted to read his soulmate writing that would be ridiculous.)

Damien never told his family about having a soulmate. Even as he slowly got used to the differences between them and slowly learned how his grandfather was he could never bring himself to respond to the slowly lessening drawings and messages.(He couldn’t bring himself to respond because deep down he knew he didn’t deserve a soulmate. He was a monster, a demon. He didn’t deserve it.)

Danny stopped trying so desperately to contact his soulmate at age 11(the age he held his sister as she cried, her soulmate’s last message scribbled in desperate frantic writing on her arm. He never resented his parents so much when they didn’t even leave the lab for two days, not paying any mind to their sobbing child on the floor above them.)(it was the first time he didn’t envy having a soulmate.)

He was fourteen when he started drawing on his arms again.(it was shaky, much more than the older drawings, but even if he didn’t have a soulmate, he wanted to leave them a mark, just in case, the same way Jazz wrote quotes from different books on her arms.)

(When he found out Vlad didn’t have a soulmate, he refused to acknowledge another similarity they shared. He refused to think about how Vlad’s desperation made Danny think of his own desperate writing for his soulmate. Soulmates were a topic he never spoke of, and Vlad must have known, must have found out about how Danny didn’t have one, but he never commented on it. (It was the only boundary that was never crossed.))

(Damian wasn’t disappointed when his soulmate stopped writing to him. he didn’t trace over his arms, wishing that he had the confidence to write back. He didn’t spend hours wondering if his soulmate was gone without knowing Damian had seen him. He didn’t trace over the drawings his soulmate made with awe after four years of silence.)

Damian always covered up, so he was the only one who noticed when his soulmate started writing to him again. Never sentences never notes like they were before, but shaky drawings appeared on his skin. They were less detailed than before, almost shaky, as if the person drawing them couldn’t hold a pencil, steady, but they were real. Damian never said a word.

It was October 15 when Damien saw something on his arms that made his blood go cold. A message that he read over and over while commandeering the plane and ignoring the rest of his family yelling for him to explain himself. He desperately calibrated the jet while staring at the words, praying to a God he did not believe in that he would not be too late.(Unaware that Todd was following going in the same direction with the similar message written on his arm from a girl that Jason had deemed too good for him.)

Dear soulmate, even if you aren’t there. Everyone in Casper high is writing on their arms and I might as well try to warn someone. I am from Amity Park, Illinois, and we are under attack. The GIW have cut all outside communication. We are currently hiding in Casper high school, barricading the entrances, but it will not last long.

According to the government, we are not legally sentient or human. The agents outside want to dissect us, citing that we are scum. I don’t want to see my classmates die at the hands of my parents. I don’t want to see my friends and my sister die.

I don’t know if you are there, or if I really don’t have a soulmate, but I don’t want to die (fully) without leaving some sort of note.

My name is Danny. I love you. I’m sorry.

[targaryen-dynasty]

VIOLENT DELIGHTS.

Aemond Targaryen x twin sister!Reader

"Being summoned to your brother's most recent council meeting as a means to intervene should the rising tensions between your brothers turn into a serious problem, you find another way to de-escalate the situation."

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MDNI; dubios content, canon typical incest/targcest (twins), p in v, fingering, table sex, semi public sex, high valyrian, female reader (described with valyrian attributes)

WORDS: 2.3 K

NOTES: First day of PTO and your girl is spending it wise! 💅 Watch me being utterly distressed by episode four but giving you all some delicious smut to make up for it. This is not beta read!

You should have grown suspicious when you’ve been called as cupbearer for Aegon’s most recent small council by your mother, attending it in the background while she can not. It’s clear you’ve been summoned by her to be a means to de-escalate should it be necessary, for even a fool could notice that the tension between your brothers is high, teetering on the edge to turn into a serious problem. 

And it’s almost your turn to intervene when your twin brother decides to best your older brother, humiliating him in a language none of the other members of the Small Council understand. 

A clearly struck Aegon strides out of the chambers in the following, his councilmen quickly filing out as well, leaving just you and your twin. He leans forward, running his nail across the stone in what appears to be deep contemplation. 

You step out of the shadows, the chalice filled with Arbor Red placed on the table. “Ziry gōntan daor hae bona, ao gīmigon,” you speak first, breaking the thick silence. He did not like that, you know. 

He lets out a sigh, his sharp gaze flickering from his hand up to you. “Well, he never does. He’s weak. Incapable,” he replies, purposely speaking in the Common Tongue. “A coward, really. Bisa iksis vīlībāzma, daor iā tymptir. Emi naejot act adere lo jaeli naejot ērinagon.” This is war, not a game. We have to act quickly if we want to win. 

“Kessa, bisa iksis vīlībāzma,” you say, approaching him with your arms crossed and a roll of your eyes before leaning against the table. The tip of your tongue presses against the inside of your cheek as you contemplate your next words. “But Aegon is still the King, and you will need to tread more carefully. It does put neither of you in a good light.“ Yes, this is war. 

The way he studies you so carefully would make any other person crumble, but not you, you‘ve shared a womb, and his cruelty and snideness is not reserved for you. Usually. 

“What would a woman such as yourself know of war and politics? You speak with the naivety of a child. You might have claimed the Bronze Fury, but that does not make up for your lack of true war experience.“

An eyebrow raises in response to his condescending tone. You look back at him confidently, challenging, and don‘t hesitate to speak your mind. “Oh? I could say the exact same thing about you, brother. Vhagar has helped conquer Westeros, but that does not make you Visenya come again. And just because I do not revel in war and politics does not mean I do not understand them.”

The way he sets his jaw is subtle, barely noticeable, but makes you well aware that you‘re playing with fire, and when there doesn‘t come an answer, you can‘t help but stoke the flame. 

Running your fingers along the stoney surface, you allow your eyes to follow them, not daring to meet his gaze as you poke his soft spot. “You have been awfully insufferable lately, brother. Ever since you… killed the little Lord Strong that is.“

With his smirk beginning to falter, Aemond rises from his seat, towering over you. Both his hands grip the edges of the table, capturing you between it and his firm body. “Watch your tongue, idaña,“ he snarls through gritted teeth. “You speak of things you don’t understand.“ Twin. 

You don’t back down. Letting out a scoff, you hold your chin high as you lock your gazes, looking at him defiantly. “No? Then, by all means, enlighten me, oh mighty war scholar. Teach me the tales you have learned while I stayed cooped up in the castle. Tell me all about your brilliant plans for war you have hatched with Ser Criston Cole behind our King‘s back.“

Aemond reaches to brush your hair from your shoulder, fingers ghosting along the warm skin of your neck, making a shiver run down your spine. Where annoyance has danced in his eye before, there‘s now something else simmering right beneath the surface. 

“Insolent, spoiled, naïve and ignorant,“ he hums, breath fanning over your skin as his eye roams over your face. “Do you know how badly I wish to shut that mouth of yours?“

Not the least bit impressed, a scoff leaves your lips. Your heartbeat, however, betrays your stern facade, all but hammering inside your chest. “You could try,” you challenge, voice smooth as silk but eyes filled with a dangerous spark. “What, with that silver tongue of yours?”

In one quick, unexpected movement, Aemond has his hands on your waist and hoists you up, not-so-gently splaying your body out over the table. With his body looming over yours, one hand pins you to the table at your hip, while the other grabs your jaw, forcing you to withstand his burning gaze. “I have something far, far more effective in mind.”

You’re suddenly unable to bite back the sharp intake of breath that escapes your throat as everything changes in a split second. Heat rushes through your body, and without thinking, your legs part, welcoming his body in between them. Your mouth is dry, but you try to keep a level head. “Do you truly think yourself capable of shutting me up?”

“Yes, I do… but perhaps I prefer you this way. My sweet, defiant sister who always needs to run her lovely, impudent mouth.”

Wetting your lips, you stare up at him with half-lidded eyes. The grip on your jaw is firm yet gentle, his fingers digging into your flesh. A faint tremor runs through your thighs at the feeling of his body pressed so tightly against yours, the hardness of his cock not hidden by the sturdy fabric of his breeches. 

Despite being pinned to the table by him, you scramble to reach some of his coat, fisting it tightly to pull him onto your body and capture his lips in a heated kiss. Albeit grunting, Aemond’s body responds instinctively at the action, putting his weight onto yours, his hips grinding leisurely against yours. 

He lets out a low groan, and the hand that has rested on your hip greedily tugs on the skirt of your dress, pulling it up enough to grant him access to what lays between your thighs. Swallowing every sound that may spill past your lips, his tongue delves deeper into your mouth in a demanding, possessive kiss. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him close as his one hand makes quick work of your smallclothes, the seams too easily giving in with the sheer force he uses to yank them off of your body. 

Gasping for air as you pull away from him, you lick your kiss swollen lips. “What if anyone sees us?”

Aemond grins, his lips trailing a hot path down your throat. “Ivestragī zirȳ,” he breathes. His hand slips between your legs, dragging through your soaked folds before he eases two digits inside, chuckling when you clench around him. Entangling his other hand in your silver curls, he pulls on it slightly to tug your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry kisses. “Ivestragī zirȳ ūndegon skorkydoso jorrāelagon iksā syt nyke.” Let them. Let them see how desperate you are for me. 

That’s all the conviction you need, not that you’d do anything for him anyways at this point, being putty in his hands already. 

Responding to his touch, your body shudders and arches against him, your eyes fluttering shut in pure bliss as his fingers push in and out of you, brushing your sweet spot. But he’s not having any of it. Aemond’s hand leaves your hair and captures your jaw again, fingers digging into your cheeks. “Jurnegon rȳ nyke. Jaelan naejot ūndegon aōha laehurlion skori nyke renigon ao.” Look at me. I want to see your face when I touch you. 

You stare up at him with wide, dark-blown eyes, gripping his shoulders tightly to keep yourself grounded. “Iksā iā mittys,” you gasp, yet there is no ill intent behind these words. You are a fool.

The heat emanating from him is maddening, causing your whole body to tense and your peak approach you so abruptly. But Aemond would not be your twin, if he didn’t know you better than anyone else, and just moments before you’re toppling over the edge, he withdraws his fingers from you, tsking. 

“You weren’t just peaking, were you?” he teases, taking his hand off of your jaw. 

You pout at the sudden loss and the pleasure slowly but surely fading away again, leaving you aground and full of conviction he’s just riled you up for his own sake of enjoyment. 

You’re positively surprised when you follow his hand down between your bodies, joining his other to swiftly undo the laces in front of his breeches and the last buckle of his coat. 

“I shall not waste the first time you peak for me with my fingers,” he grunts, placing one hand on the stoney surface of the table, propping himself up, as the other aligns his hard cock with your cunt, forcing himself inside in one, swift thrust. It’s an instinctive mechanism as you wrap your legs around his waist, desperate to keep him close. 

The intrusion has you both groaning; you, because of the delicious sting that comes with accommodating his size, and he, because he has barely filled you up and you’re already squeezing the life out of him.

“Gods, no,” Aemond pants, taking a moment once he’s fully sheathed inside of you. “You will wet my cock when you peak, is that understood?”

It’s almost pathetic how eagerly you nod your head at that, causing your twin to scoff.

Despite this being the first time you lay with him, neither of you lacks experience. The pace he sets up is merciless, and reasonable for the both of you, bringing you quick to something you’ve craved for so long.   

Aemond’s cock hits the spot inside of you that makes your jaw slacken over and over again, bringing you closer to completion. He bows forwards, capturing your lips again. The kiss is passionate, all teeth and all tongue, and full of unsaid words and hidden actions. 

Where previously the voices of the councilmen advising the king on their plans for war have bounced off the walls, there now are the sounds of skin slapping skin and wanton moans and groans, filling the otherwise quiet and empty chamber. Neither of you cares if your little act can be heard outside of these thick doors – with the realm being in a state of uproar anyways, there surely are more important matters that keep the keep’s residents occupied. 

With the hem of his tunic rubbing so perfectly against your sensitive pearl each time his hips meet yours, you can feel the pressure inside of you returning, making you even more desperate for relief. 

Your hips start to rut against his in a haze, chasing the hope of completion. You swallow each other’s sounds of pleasure, greedily drinking down everything the other has to offer without daring to tear away from each other. So much for him wanting to watch you fall apart. 

As the pleasure soars through your body, your thighs lock around his hips, making it impossible for him to keep up his reckless pace. But there is no need for that anyways, for you can feel your peak’s contractions practically forcing the seed out of his cock. Your convulsing walls milk him for every drop of his spill, coating your insides. 

It’s when the liquid fire inside of your veins subsides that you pull away from each other, allowing you to fill your lungs with air again. He leans his forehead against yours, still looming over your frame. Gathering his own bearings, he’s closed his good eye, trying to steady his labored breathing. 

Lust still lingers thick in the air, hence he’s not pulling out of you even after his cock has grown flaccid again. Instead, he enjoys the proximity, the feigned moment of calmness, as if there isn’t a war raging right outside of this very keep. 

While he presses gentle kisses to the faint marks he’s left on your cheeks and jaw, “Nevertheless, my opinion has not changed, brother,” you mumble in between heavy breaths, a tinge of teasing in your tone. 

Aemond chuckles, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, of course not,” he says, voice thick from your previous activities. He moves with slow, languid movements, rolling his hips against yours. It’s enough for some sense of overstimulation kicking in, yet you can’t squirm away from him. He bows his head down, bringing his lips on a level with your ear. “But there still is some time for me to change your mind before I have to sit on dragon back.”

Bringing your hands to his shoulders again, you arch against him. “Gaomagon daor pendagon sīr eglie hen aōla, lēkia,” you tease. Do not think so highly of yourself, brother. 

“Nyke pendagon hen nykēla vok.” I think of myself quite appropriately. 

It’s a back and forth between you for as long as it takes, and even then, your twin’s diligence has not been able to surpass your stubbornness. But perhaps that is not what you both want anyways?

Only when it’s time for him to set off to the Riverlands, mounting his dragon to support your brother’s forces, do you two part – but not without the promise of him living up to his words once he returns, determined to make himself at home between your legs once more. 

Aemond Taglist: @persephonerinyes @dr-aegon @schniiipsel @thekinslayed @baizzhu

@legitalicat @eponaartemisa @peachysunrize @blackswxnn @odairtrqsh

@mfedits @luvdella @jays-bullshit @justarandomgal

@decaffeinatedparadisepost @gelacat0413 @dracaryxzs

[igotanidea]

Just right: Anthony Bridgerton x reader

part 1 to too much

part 2 : not enough

part 3 : almost there

part 4: Stuck

A/N: I am NOT sorry for all the possible spellings and punctuation mistakes there. It's been almost 2 months since "Stuck" and I am FREAKING OUT posting this while crying because it's over. Enjoy and thank you <3

Warnings: end of series, 4082 words (!!)

***

He felt like a fool.

Reverting to his old ways instead of showing all the emotions coursing through his veins.

Turning around and walking away, leaving her alone, when all he wanted was to fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness.

But how would the viscount Bridgerton look, while doing so, observed by all the ton, including the two biggest gossipers in the person of lady Featherington and lady Danburry?

Seemed like whatever he would choose to do, he would end up being a dolt.

“Anthony!”

He didn’t even flinch hearing someone calling him, nor recognize the voice. Too stubborn to stop he only continued his marching pace, hoping for the love of god that whoever dared to try and approach him in this furibund mood would get discouraged.

Not very gentlemanly of him.

“Anthony!”

He quickened his pace.

“Anthony Bridgerton!”

“What?” he almost spat spinning around on his heel, leaving a dent in the ground, taking on his most stern expression. If his obvious ignorance of the caller was not a deterrent perhaps the frown and fiery eyes would.

Supposedly it might have worked on anyone else, but soon enough Anthony transformed from the head of a family and the viscount into a little child, upon noticing that it was his mother, exhorting him to the halt.

“Mother…” he muttered looking at the ground, having only confirmed his previous theory of his role in this entire disarray.

“Let us take a walk.” Violet smiled brightly taking her eldest’s arm and imposing a walking rather than soldierly pace. “What did you Anthony?” the gentle expression never left her face even when she was scoffing her unmanageable child.

“Why would you think it was me that--?” the viscount took the last resort to protect his own pride, but the tightening grip on his forearm betrayed the fact that Violet knew the entire backstory, behind the marital disagreement.

“I raised you. I daresay it gives me enough knowledge to not answer your question. “

“If you let me –"

“Don’t, Anthony. Y/N has been nothing less but charming since the beginning.. "

"That's the way to describe her--" the man muttered

"Strong-willed and persuasive, surely, you wouldn’t take anything but, but charming nonetheless. So do tell me so we could remedy the damage before it arises further.”

“Shall you mistake me for Daphne and ask about my feelings—”

“Anthony Bridgerton!”

“I am a man, mother. A head of the family.”

“Clearly said head has been missing guidance in the right direction.”

“Mother!”

“Do not raise your voice on me son.”

“Apologies…”

“Good.” Violet beamed serenely “Do you think me so little knowledgeable to ask your emotions? I do not. I’m merely asking for facts, which you clearly have such a strong inclination to.”

Anthony mumbled something once more.

“do you wish you lose your wife, viscount?”

“What?” such possibility never crossed his mind. Y/N’s anger, her hurt, pain and merciless avoidance – yes. Abandonment and lack of her presence nearby? No. She would never… She could never. Lord above, who was she thinking she was? A woman married into a noble family wanting to cause a scandal by resenting her husband?

And once again, while his heart should have been shattered and humble enough to clarify the turmoil, the sudden blood rush turned into clenched fists and ire. All because he could not bare the thought of losing her for good, however hiding behind all the negativity was easier. It was something he was used to for years.

Nevertheless it was impossible to deny the facts further. It was her influence that caused the improbable openness in his soul was the exact same reason of his spirit bleeding.

And he needed her back.

Each minute without her was a minute lost. A minute less in the so very limited time they were given as a miracle on earth.

“What do I do?” he raised gaze at his mother, now truly looking like a lost man. Man in love, who was probably not the most romantic and gentle one with words, but still deeply infatuated with the woman who gave her whole life to him.

“Do not fret my dear. We shall alleviate the situation immediately.”

***

Y/N’s feelings were beyond anything possible to describe with words.

There she was, with her feet rooted to the ground, wishing for – and willing to accept – apologies but met with the harsh reality of the stone wall of Anthony’s behavior.

Accompanied by Eloise, smirking like the know-it-all she was, and Benedict with the compassion written all over his face.

Presumably, shall they not be there, the young lady viscountess Bridgerton would abandon all the pretenses of a woman of her position and begun blubbering in the middle of the promenade. However, the most mischievous of Bridgerton siblings acted with wit and sense, involving their dear sister-in-law in a challenging conversation, capably hauling her away from prying eyes and gossipmongers, preventing any possible rumors about incongruousness.

***

For unmistakable reasons she was not in the mood to see their ludicrous older brother and with the sudden disappearance of Violet, Benedict and Eloise took the privilege to invite Y/N back to the Bridgerton’s family house and extend the invitation for indefinite period of time. After all, Anthony might have been the head of the family as he proudly announced to anyone who was willing to disobey his wished and/or not listen, but Benedict was the oldest bachelor of the house and was more than willing to make a few decisions of his own to finally be seen as something more than merely second son and waiting for his time. 

***

Violet returned home few hours later and accepted the presence of her daughter-in-law with a mysterious smile and not a single word of objection. As amazing and uplifting as such approach might have been, it was also highly surprising. Viscountess Bridgerton was well known for her mitigating skills and tendency to scotch conflicts almost immediately, especially in her own family.

And it raised a lot of questions and secrets that Y/N and Eloise tried to uncover spending the night in the former’s bedchambers, talking for hours, creating conspiracy theories and preparing for whatever may have been coming.

Cause the fact that Violet was going to help her oldest son in winning back his wife’s attention was more than conspicuous.

Only that Y/N, who was forgiving and accepting at the begging was slowly turning cold at the fact that her husband could not simply apologize but rather resorted to some intricate ways of regaining her favor.

After a year of marriage, should he not know her enough for independent ideas and not seek his mother's avail?

***

First thing happening in the very early morning, was Y/N’s most trusted servant humbly asking for her lady’s time, which was bizarre and – as any other family may have deemed – inadequate and even shaming.

Moreover, any other house would quickly discard the commoner showing at the mighty's doorstep but Bridgertons were prone to discarding rules in private and with those who earned their trust. Be it servants or nobles. And Y/N was no exception to the rule, welcoming her maid with a smile upon seeing the person from her own household.

“My lady.” The girl bowed so low, she almost touched the floor with her nose.

“My dear Laura, please stand up, there is really no need for that-“ Y/N grabbed her hands and forced the girl up. “I assure you that-“

“But Lady Violet and Miss Bridgerton –“

“I assure you that they do not expect you to kiss the ground they walk on.” Y/n almost laughed at Laura’s discombobulation. Poor one was doing everything in her power to not make her lady embarrassed and act like a good and obedient servant, almost expecting Violet or Eloise to be cruel and judgmental.

“Dear Y/N, did you give your helpers the idea that we are some sort of tyrants?” Violet send her daughter-in-law a honest smile, which immediately got Laura’s reaction in the form of blushing.

“Lady Bridgerton I apologies if my appearance is the dishonor on-”

She didn’t even finish the sentence, met with Y/N, Violet’s and Eloise’s laugh and a polite look from more balanced Francesca sitting on the chaise longue.

“Do not fret, my girl, we are more than happy to welcome you in our household.”

“Tha-thank you my lady…”

‘Now I assume you came to talk to your lady, so we shall give you some privacy. Come girls, make haste for the matter to cover is of utmost delicacy.”

“And how shall you know it mamma?” Hyacinth almost twitched her ears, not really understanding much of why Y/N was with them rather than with Antony, but curious as a young girl could be.

“Precisely mamma, how shall you know?” Eloise, immediately picked up her sister’s question, only not so susceptible to extenuations.

“Eloise Bridgerton, I shall expect you to practice the bowing before your incoming debut in front of the queen. Daphne made quite an impression and –“

“Daphne was deemed diamond of the season and such title is below my ambition.”

“Regardless, you do not want to trip or slip do you?”

Eloise (and everyone else) obviously remembered what happened to Featherington’s sisters and the embarrassment so with a heavy, exaggerated sigh and one quick, sharp, bright look at Y/N Eloise left the room, followed by her mother and sisters.

And once the lady and her trusted eyes and ears of the house were alone, who could stop the two of turning a lot more unmindful of societal norms?

“My lady, the lord has been quite annoyed since the quarrel you lordships have had. He even refused to eat his favorite meal.” Laura confessed with blushing cheeks

“Are you to tell me that Prescott prepared the roasted pork for Anthony after he was so unjust towards the lady of the house? I shall have a word about a loyalty with him upon my return.” Y/N satirized wholeheartedly.

“When shall you return my lady? Seeing as that viscount is not the one to have a change of heart and admit his wrongdoing easily?”

“He will Laura. One way or another I am fairly convinced my husband may take a long way to do so and take the aid of his mother whilst deciding. It’s just I am not fully convinced if the apology made with cheating are worth accepting.”

“Oh! You took the lower route here my lady forgive the audacity.”

“Just the route of a woman who expect honesty from her man.”

“Fair enough I suppose. But shall you be agitated my lady I take it you do not wish to accept the viscount bestowment?”

“Bestowment?” Y/N frowned a little in confusion “and what shall that be?”

“I do not know, my lady. I am merely a messenger—”

“I believed you to be on my side Laura.”

“And I am, my lady! But one do not object the command of the lord, that is clearly ready to vent his anger on the first soul that happen to be unfortunate enough to be around.”

“My god, you are a prattler!” Y/N laughed “where is that gift in question? Cause since it is mine either way we might as well get a little curious, shall we? Would be such a shame to put it to waste.”

Laura stood up from her chair and started heading to the corridor, but Hyacynth was first to barge into the room carrying some parcel that was almost bigger than her.

“Y/N! Is this that gift from Anthony!?” clearly she was eavesdropping  “Can we take a look, please? It’s so big I wonder what it is? Come on, open it up! Open it up!”

“Curiosity killed the cat.” Eloise muttered but there was no denying she was equally curious as her sister.

Y/N only rolled  her eyes, inviting all the girls over and opening the box. Fishing out the most beautiful and definitely expensive new dress. The color was perfectly matching Y/N’s complexion and the material delicate yet durable – Anthony knew his wife and her adventurous tendencies.

“It’s so beautiful and elegant” Francesca whispered touching the dress with delight.

“So what, he think he can just buy her the garment and she will forgive him?” Eloise scoffed “Men are so simple minded and belittling of women!”

“Try it on, Y/N!” Hyacinth encouraged, almost jumping from excitement

“Do not try it on! This would be relenting!” Eloise objected.

“He made a gesture!”

“It’s not a gesture! It’s an attempt of buying her forgiveness!”

“Y/N!”

“Y/N?!”

“Quiet!” Y/N finally managed to break through the noise of two sisters. ““No offence girls, but this is my marriage and my decision. One I have to make by myself. So thank you “ she smiled brightly but with a hint of annoyance “for your positions on things, but I am perfectly capable of weighting the significance of the gift, on my conviction to forgive or not forgive him.”

“Uhm. My lady” Laura cleared her throat “I’d like to elaborate that the viscount also made an invitation to one special place….”

“Do not go Y/N!”

“Stop interfering Eloise! Y/N you have to go!”

“For heaven’s sake, Violet is truly a saint for surviving you two!” “Uhm. My lady” Laura cleared her throat “I’d like to elaborate that the viscount also made an invitation to one special place….”

“Do not go Y/N!”

“Stop interfering Eloise! Y/N you have to go!”

“For heaven’s sake, Violet is truly a saint for surviving you two!”

***

Anthony was waiting for her in the garden outside some estate she had no idea existed. After all, Y/N has spent her entire life in London, rarely being invited to the cottage. And in this case it could have been used a leverage, not that he was aiming for measuring forces and cold calculation.

No.

He was walking back and forth, almost trampling a path in the ground in a place where it should never be. Nervous enough to anxiously fiddle with his fingers like a lady before her debut entering the society. Hoping she would come. Wishing for any entity in heaven might want to listen that she would take this dress he send her as an expression of humility rather than boosting like a rooster. Praying that Eloise wasn’t there with her sharp tongue and unrestrained thoughts to discourage his beloved from accepting both the gift and the invitation.

The minutes turned to hours and even his father’s pocket watch refused to work with Anthony in this important moment. Having no regard to the poor flowers any other plants standing no chances against his heavy riding boots, the time seemed to stand still.

For whatever it was worth it, Anthony Bridgerton swore to himself that he would rather turn into a sack of boned waiting in this desolate place than walk away while there was still a glimmer of hope she might appear. He was done and fatigued with missed opportunities, poorly chosen and ill-spoken words.

It was never his intention to said all those atrocious words to her.

Too much.

Dear Lord.

Now that he was thinking about it, his heart was capering in a way that filled him with self-hatred. After all the pain he might have caused her during that little hurtful exchange while she did nothing more than be there for him. Even if he not exactly wished for it. Even if he himself didn’t know that her presence in his life was the best thing that happened since his father’s death. If not since forever.

Anthony wasn’t the one to believe in signs or any spiritual influence on earth, but the more he was dwelling on his own misery, the more deliberative of their first meeting he was becoming.

It was late lord Bridgerton’s death anniversary and as any other year – he separated himself from the rest of the family. To show how adamant his heart and mind was and to underline that this was nothing more than just another day in a line of any other similar ones. But the truth was, he wanted to visit his father’s grave alone without any possible disturbances or havoc that his younger siblings could have caused. None of them really knew Edmund Bridgerton the way Anothony did. The first born son, the heir to the title, deprived of his father’s guidance and presence and forced to take responsibility for the family in way too young age.

He needed to be by himself, cause god forbid anyone seeing him showing any signs of humanity and indulging in grief.

And his family knew and accepted it.

She didn’t.

Just a stranger, strolling by herself in the area, looking like a commoner, having no regards to the sanctity of the moment nor the place she found herself in.

And worse for her – spotting Anthony in the never-seen moment of vulnerability written all over his face.

“Lord Bridgerton” she bowed in a way that showed that the savage, Anthony took her for, actually had manners. And that he knew him, but this was not so unexpected.

He only grunted in response to annoyed by an unfortunate set of circumstances that worked against her. The viscount himself was not going to bow to a girl that was clearly a servant, with messy hair and in a dress that was far from anything a woman, even of lower position should be seen in.

“Don’t you have anywhere else to be, girl?” he muttered under his nose, throwing daggers with his eyes.

“I’m sorry my lord but-“

“You should be sorry. I am convinced your lady nor your lord will be pleased with the fact that their service wanders alone in an area that does not belong to them!”

“Service?” Y/N smirked looking at him with amusement and twinkling eyes. And Anthony with his youthful energy and virility could not miss the fact that she was actually pretty.

“Yes, service.” He hissed at her “now get out of here girl, before you get yourself in far more trouble from me and end up on the street!”

“I shall-“ she obviously was not going to let anyone maltreat her like that, but her acuity wore up that very moment. She noticed the weariness in viscount’s eyes, noticed the monument nearby, and realized what day of the month it was.

“Forgive me, my lord.” She bowed in respect “I shall be on my way. And I shall not mention this meeting to anyone, hopefully wishing for you to forget my impertinence.”

She was gone as fast as she appeared, and Anthony thought to never see her again.

Until the next rout Daphne was attending, where he actually did.

Immediately realizing the scope of his previous mistake, upon learning that the service girl was in fact Miss Y/L/N, the youngest daughter of Lord Y/L/N. And met with another look of those glistening eyes and amused face expression. Forced to accompany her for the evening, since apparently Lady Bridgerton and Lady Y/L/N has made some arrangements for the future.

He was thinking it was all just a coincidence back then, but now he came to conclusion that it must have been his father who send this girl into his life. Knowing better than him that she would turn his ways around, challenge him, test him patience mercilessly and yet – that she would be the one to love him unconditionally and whom he would love with all his broken and unperfect self.

And the burden of possibility of ruining it all for them was even more overwhelming.

He clasped his hands behind his back, walking shorter and shorter distances, turning back more and more often, stuck in his belief that he would stay here as long as she didn't show up, even if -

“Anthony.”

Viscount spun around so abruptly it almost caused him falling to the ground.

She came.

She truly came.

It was like meeting her all over again, back in time, back next to his father’s grave.

Only she wasn’t looking like a servant girl now.

She was wearing the dress he sent her, looking not only like a viscountess, but like a queen herself. His queen. His wife. His love. His everything.

Her skin was radiant due to the color of the material (just like Violet predicted), cheeks flushed, hair done in perfect curls surrounding her face, bright like a sun.

“Y/N….”

“It was so unwise on your part viscount to call upon me and invite me into a wild place a woman like me should never step foot on.” She said sternly, but the everlasting and never changing glistening of her eyes betrayed her true intention “and perilous, may I say? Far from the city? Lady travelling alone? So many hazards awaiting me on the way.”

“Benedict and Colin were following your post chaise.”

“Oh I knew I heard someone laughing on the way. But my coachman brushed my concerns off!”

“Did you really believed I would send my greatest treasure into the wild without proper security?” Anthony took a few steps forwards, reaching for her hands and placing gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“Your brothers?” Y/N let him show the courtesy, but raised eyes in skepticism of the words.

“Believe me my lady, you should never underestimate the man of the Bridgerton house.”

“In what aspect my lord?”

“In every aspect, dear.” He looked deep into her eyes.

“Why did you ask me to meet you here?” Y/N quickly averted her eyes, because Anthony’s gaze were so full of passion, love and genuine remorse and apology she found herself falling into his charms. And this couldn’t have been so easy for him. “You sister discounselled me on coming here.”

“And yet, you came my lady.” Anthony reached for her chin and slowly, gently and with tenderness turned her face towards him so that their eyes had to meet again.

“Anthony I –“

“My love, I am sorry.”

“this is not—”

“Let me speak” he hushed her, not breaking eye contact. “I asked you here, because this is the very place where my father asked for my mother’s hand. Where he pledged her his undying love, support and loyalty. And you, out of all people in the world, learned how much I cherish my father’s memory and his legacy.

“Anthony-“

“Therefore, here I am. Standing in front of you, expressing my deepest condolences-“

“Oh, dear lord, Tony!” she cried out in frustration “stop using the words you would say to me if Lady Whistledown were nearby! Tell me how you feel!”

How he felt was not with words.

How he felt was expressed by the way he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to his chest, capturing her lips in the searing but gentle kiss that conveyed more than any noble and dignified words of a lord could.

I love you.

By his strong arms encompassing her like a shelter from the storm.

I won’t ever let go of you.

By tender caress of her hair and back.

I will always cherish you.

By the way his lips were moving against her, whispering silent words understood only by two souls forevermore yearning for each other.

I am sorry.

She was the first one to pull back for air, reluctantly so.

“My love. My beloved.”

She smiled at him, connecting their foreheads, allowing his arms to tighten around her waist and waiting for what was coming next to assess the truth behind his words.

“Am I too much now?” she whispered

“You are always too much. To much for me to keep. To much for me to even wish and pray for. Too much of a blessing in my life. Too much in the best possible sense and—”

This time It was her who cut him off by a kiss, silencing anything else that might come from his lips. He was honest and sincere. And if he was trying to apologize by saying anything else and backing out on what he said back there she probably would not forgive him sensing manipulation. But this?

“I forgive you.” She whispered against his lips.

“Thank God.”

“Is this cottage inhabited or--?”

“No. It’s not. And I intend on taking advantage of it right this moment.” He grabbed her and carried inside bridal style, ready to not get back to London for at least a couple days.

(spoiler alert below)

I got a request for a fluff pregnancy fic.... <3

@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @budugu @frickin-bats @sillyfreakfanparty @amberpanda99 @nycthophiliaa @myaa21212121 @bananaadeleigate @everybodystaycalm @fmhcatt @sankareatheundead @cat-lockwood @1potato2rulethemall @bloommart @lorinevv @taylorswars @jessiegerl @glocuseguardian3rd @angiieguevara @laurasdrey @jholiday @smailaway @some-random-stranger-007 @beckahhope @bookishtheaterlover7 @eclecticcollectioncloud @thingfromlove @dutifullyannoyingfox @kitkat14sblog @dancingandreadingwithv @heyits-zedo @superhighschoollevelnerd-blog1 @ben-has-arrived @kindaslightlyacidic @espressopatronum454 @miluiel1 @powellssaturn @jess4rush @krismdavis @yourgirlypop

[locomoqo]

Omg i loved your latest fic!!! What if they actually got their lovers pregnant? How would gun+goo react😫😫??

Also Keep up the good work!✨💘

be my baby

ft. gun park & goo kim x f!reader [separate]

details: a part 2 to this fic! this is pure fluff, no funny business

A/N: all the fluff content lately bc my mind is kinda too fried to write smut atm😵‍💫 (BUT i am in the middle of writing those reqs so stay tuned) reblogs are appreciated ^^ enjoy!!

ᯓ★—GUN

Gun’s noticed how off you've been acting ever since he got here. It’s like you’re walking on eggshells around him, which makes him wonder if something’s bothering you—or if maybe he's the problem. Deciding to address it, he approaches you in the kitchen where you're carefully arranging fruit in a bowl. It’s a simple task, but you’re putting an unusual amount of focus into it.

“You’ve been quiet since I got here,” he finally speaks up, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “Somethin' upset you?” His brow arches in question, but you remain silent, pressing your lips into a thin line.

In truth, ever since Gun arrived, you've been caught in a swirl of excitement and nerves. This morning, you realized your period was late, so you took a pregnancy test. When it came out positive, you were thrilled. But as the day went on, your excitement began to mix with anxiety. What if Gun didn’t feel the same way? What if all those whispered promises during intimate moments were just words spoken in the heat of passion?

You snap back to reality, still holding an apple. After staring at it for a moment, you sigh and set it down, turning to face him. “Can… can I tell you something?” you ask hesitantly, meeting his eyes. His eyebrows lower as he studies you, giving a brief nod. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes before finally saying, 

“I’m… pregnant.”

Gun’s expression remains unreadable, though you can feel the shift in the air. The silence stretches out, long enough to make you second-guess everything—especially what might be going through his head.

“You’re… pregnant,” he repeats slowly, his gaze shifting to your stomach. You nod, confirming it. Hesitantly, he reaches out, his hand finding your waist and pulling you closer, his thumb brushing lightly over your belly. His touch is soft, as if he’s trying to process the news through feeling alone.

“You okay?” you whisper, your voice as soft as a breeze. He doesn’t respond immediately, and when he does, his voice is quieter, more vulnerable. “Yeah,” he nods, still processing. His eyes return to your belly, a look crossing his face that you’ve never seen before—a mixture of awe, fear, excitement, and uncertainty all at once.

A small, amused smile tugs at his lips. “Can’t believe I’m going to be a father,” he huffs softly, still stroking your belly through your shirt. The tension in your shoulders melts away, relief flooding you at his calm reaction. He’s not opposed to the news—far from it.

You smile at him, glancing down at your stomach. “I can’t believe it either,” you say. Gun steals a glance at you. You’re saying something, but the content of your words is lost on him, he’s too focused on the happiness glowing on your face.

He’s always been protective of you, but now that you're carrying his child, that protectiveness feels stronger. It’s not suffocating, but it’s there. After all, he has two things to lose now.

While Gun has never been the most verbally expressive, he shows his love and support through his actions. You’ll notice it in the small things—how he places a steadying hand on the small of your back when you walk, or how he’s always ready to help you stand when you’ve been sitting too long. He’ll quietly ensure you’re taken care of, like refilling your prenatal vitamins without you asking or indulging your late-night cravings with meals he cooks himself, no questions asked.

Sometimes, you’ll wake in the middle of the night to find his hand resting protectively on your belly, or catch him staring at different spots in the house, mumbling to himself about baby-proofing everything.

“You’ll make a good father,” you tell him one night, your voice filled with quiet certainty.

He freezes for a moment, clearly taken off guard by the weight of your words. He swallows, averting his gaze as if needing a second to collect himself. Then, he reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “We’ll see,” he murmurs, his voice softer than usual, with just the faintest hint of uncertainty slipping through. 

But his hand stays in yours, and in that simple gesture, you know he’s in this with you.

ᯓ★—GOO

It’s a quiet evening, and Goo is flipping through the channels with ease, though his mind is filled with concern. You've been acting a bit different since he got home. He catches the way you open your mouth as if to say something, but then quickly close it, shaking your head. It leaves him wondering what you’ve been wanting to tell him.

The moment you finally call his name, his head turns toward you instantly, all of his attention now focused on you.

“Yeah?” he asks, eyes locked on yours. You're fiddling with the fabric of your shirt, clearly nervous about whatever it is you’re about to say.

“I’m... I’m pregnant.”

There’s a brief pause. For a split second, his face is unreadable. Then, slowly, that familiar grin spreads across his lips, but this time, it’s different. Softer. He blinks a few times, processing your words before saying, “Wait, what? You mean... we’re having a baby?”

When you nod with a small, uncertain smile, he’s up off the couch in an instant, pulling you into his arms. “So that’s why you’ve been acting all weird. You were nervous about telling me this?” He grins, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Should I start growing some facial hair? You know, to get that dad look going?” he jokes, and your laughter, as always, is music to his ears.

“I can’t even imagine you with facial hair,” you giggle, cupping his cheek. “You’d look ridiculous.”

But as the seconds pass, you notice a subtle shift in his expression. The playful spark in his eyes dims just a bit, replaced by something more serious. He gazes at you, and for the first time since you broke the news, you see the weight of it settle in.

“I’m going to be a father…” he murmurs, his hand resting gently on your stomach. “Are you... okay? I mean, with everything? How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice softer than usual, filled with genuine care.

Goo isn’t the type to be serious often, but you know he’ll be by your side, teasing you about your cravings or cracking jokes about your baby becoming a mini genius like him. It’s his way of keeping things light, making sure you don’t get too overwhelmed by everything. Despite his jokes, you can sense his protectiveness, he just hides it behind his humor. He's always checking in with you, offering to get you things, giving you random foot rubs, and—on more than one occasion—trying to cook for you!

One night, when the baby starts kicking for the first time, Goo’s reaction is surprisingly tender. His hand is on your belly immediately, his expression softening in a way you rarely see. “Whoa… that’s... so weird,” he murmurs, which earns him a playful smack on the arm from you. His eyes widen as he feels the tiny flutter of movement beneath his palm. But you catch the glint of something else in his gaze—fear. Just a hint of it, quickly masked by his usual easygoing smile. “Think we’ve got a future fighter on our hands.” He jokes.

Despite the joke, you know what’s really going on. He’s feeling the weight of it all, even if he hides it behind his playful banter. You run a hand through his hair, offering him a reassuring smile. “Everything’s going to be fine,” you whisper, and for a moment, he just looks at you, all traces of humor gone. He nods, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

That's all it takes for him to quietly promise himself that he’ll do everything to ensure you and the baby have the most comfortable life possible.

[szasfuckingwife]

thinking about widowed!reader struggling after Johnny’s untimely death. And trust me when I say it was really untimely.

You’d nearly saved up enough money to move from your (not-too-bad) high end apartment to a countryside house, You were days away from your 3rd year anniversary and then there was the whole daughter situation.

As in, the daughter you both raised. The very same daughter he promised he’d return too after this mission.

It almost makes you chuckle. Especially when watching his video logs. Some of them he’s just talking to himself, same old Johnny talking about how the clouds seem slightly greyer for a day in June. Or one where he’s sat on the balcony of your old apartment sipping a latte.

Then you find the one of him after you told him you were pregnant. It’s clear that it was midnight, the sky looks pitch black, you had to have been asleep. You hold your breath as you see him adjust the camera and sit on the toilet seat.

“Where do I even start?” He says to the lens, his thick accent echoing through the bathroom. Johnny’s eyes look a bit teary but he clears his throat anyway.

“Y/N’s just told me some news. Some life changing news actually..” He sighs. “And you know, I’m happy. Who wouldn’t be, it’s a great thing.”

He continued, “But I’m scared. I’m not worthy of her, let alone a baby. I dunno…The kid may hate me. I’m gonna be away on these crap missions, away from their mum…It’ll be rough.”

You watch as he lets out a tired groan. He’s so beautiful, the thought crosses your mind. You’ve never not been lost in his eyes, “I hope it’s a girl. Too many lads in our family. I’ll be breaking a curse. And I know Y/n will be a great mum. That’s what soothes me.”

A tear escapes your eye before the next video plays automatically. The clip shows Johnny with your baby girl on his chest. Moments of caring for her after the premature birth flashes in your mind as you watch him stroke her back.

She’s sleeping snug on his chest as he records her. “She sleeps like her mum.” He whispers, making sure the bass in his voice doesn’t wake her up. Johnny was thoughtful like that. “So peaceful, aren’t you, bonnie?”

He places a kiss on her forehead which causes her to stir lightly, “No no no! Don’t wake up…If your mum knew you weren’t in your crib because of me, she’ll kill me.”

But much to Johnny’s dismay, his baby girl begins to cry and it is loud. A laugh escapes your lips as the video ends abruptly.

A couple of more videos play, one from your daughter’s first birthday, to him secretly filming the engagement ring next to you whilst you were sleeping to honeymoon vlogs. It felt like a trip down memory lane.

But then a particular video began to play.

It was the Cyprus holiday. You remember that day because your daughter begged to go one the beach as you were leaving the next day to return to the UK. Even more bittersweet as Johnny left for another mission when you returned.

The video starts and Johnny is sat on the sand in his trunks, sun glasses resting on his head, “My girls are playing in the water and I am far too tired to join them.”

“Daddy! Look!” Her angelic, tiny voice shouts and Johnny turns the camera to her. Swiftly, she picks up a bucket of water and splashes it on Johnny’s toes. “You devil! Come here you-”

The sound of Johnny’s teasing along with your child’s giggles earns another tear. But you don’t notice it. You smile.

And then Johnny sits back down and points the camera at you, who is also in the water. Against the blushing sky, your silhouette is immediately the focus of the video.

“My beautiful wife…She’s so pretty..” He sighs. The compliments earns a smile from your lips.

“Look at that ass. Wow, that’s all me!” He chuckles, and so do you. “We might have a second one on the way sooner rather than later.”

Your husband turns the camera back to him, “Well, bye for now, I’m gonna go spend time with my family.”

The camera is propped up against some object as Johnny runs up to you and picks you up, peppering you with kisses before his daughter begs for her dad to prop her on his shoulders.

From another pair of eyes, they’d see the perfect family, or the goal. But your eyes won’t ever be the same after seeing his autopsy, his funeral, his badge.

But you smile regardless. Because he’s there.

He always will be.

BONUS:

“Hey, dad…” She whispers, staring at the grey headstone. The tulips rests next to his name as the sun shines down on her. It’s quiet, like how mornings with her did used to be.

She hasn’t visited his grave in years, not coming to terms with him really being gone. But with her wedding quickly approaching, all that was on her mind was some one on one time with her daddy.

“You would like him, dad. He’s great. Mum loves him because he can cook..” A chuckle leaves her lips, “Mum says that his carbonara may be a little better than yours but…I never trued yours so I can’t compare…”

Her voice dies down as she continues. The absence of memories is what really gets to her. She should have had father days, she should of had christmases with him, she should’ve had her father/daughter dance for her wedding.

But she’ll never have that.

“Uncle Riley and Uncle Price like him…took them a while. It was a lot of questions..” She smiles reminiscing on the nearly 5hr sit down they had with her fiancé.

Unbeknownst to her, a tear left her eye. She stroked the headstone and sighed, “I’ll start to visit more, I promise. I just can’t…”

The steadiness of her voice breaks as a mini sob erupts from her, “I don’t like seeing you like this. I miss you so much, daddy.���

i remember seeing a tiktok/reel of a woman with stones that were made from her dads ashes and it made me tear up

[slaymitchabernathy]

Rain & Parades

The patter of little feet running down the hall is what alerts Coriolanus that he’s about to have a little visitor.

He glances towards the door of his study and waits for whatever child of his has come to visit him to pop their little head in. The children have never been too fond of knocking.

He’s proven to be correct when Ceraphina, his oldest, pushes the heavy wooden door open and greets him with a bright smile. “Daddy!”

He grins and beckons her over, putting all his work aside. It’s the weekend so he doesn’t really need to be working. At least that’s what he tells himself when it comes to his children.

Ceraphina bounds over to him and squeals when he effortlessly scoops her into his lap and tickles her, letting Coriolanus bask in the sweet sound of his daughter’s laughter.

There was a time when he thought he could only love one woman. Soarynn Nightingale.

He had been completely and utterly in love with her since the day he met her and once they were married and she became Soarynn Snow, there was no competition in his mind.

Then Ceraphina came along.

Sporting the same eye color as her mother and the same laugh. And just when he thought it couldn’t get better, they had Celeste who reminded him of Soarynn every single day with her mannerisms.

Lastly came Caspian, and although he’s a boy, he still resembles Soarynn in his gentleness.

“What have you been up to my darling?” He asks her, ceasing his tickles for the time being. Ceraphina beams up at him while kicking her legs back and forth, “Mommy helped me get all dressed up for the parade! We’re still going right?”

Coriolanus glances out the window of his study and notices the dreary weather that’s formed over the last hour. It looks like it might rain and that will certainly foil their plans of attending the Capitol’s annual parade. It’s a celebration of their victory over the rebels from the Districts and the children love attending.

He gives her a squeeze and a patient smile, “We’ll have to see how the weather turns out darling. If it rains then they’ll cancel the parade.”

Ceraphina frowns and crosses her arms, pouting the same way Soarynn does, “Well I just got all ready,” she huffs. Coriolanus holds in his chuckle at her small attitude. Soarynn can deny it all she wants but Ceraphina is as sharp as she is.

“Well why don’t we go check the television to see if there’s been any updates,” he suggests, knowing that the chances of the parade being canceled are highly likely. Still, he’s learned that having children means humoring them for the sake of protecting them.

Ceraphina nods and jumps off of his lap, running out of the study before he can even stand up. Coriolanus lets out a groan when he finally stands up after so long, stretching out his limbs before he slowly makes his way out into the hall. Ceraphina is still waiting for him, bouncing on her toes but this time, she has a friend.

Or a prisoner from the looks of it since Petunia does not look particularly happy to be held by the child.

Coriolanus chuckles and bends down to give Petunia a rub on her head, “I see you found our beloved Petunia.” The feline glowers up at him but he knows she won’t make any fatal attempts as long as the children are around.

She’ll wait till he’s alone to get her revenge.

Ceraphina proudly nods, “Mhm. Mommy tied a new ribbon around her neck this morning.” The new ribbon is a baby blue shade and it compliments the cat’s eyes perfectly. Which means that it also compliments Ceraphina’s eyes as well.

“How fancy,” he says, standing back up to his full height. Ceraphina follows him to the living room where he’s more than happy to find his other daughter, Celeste sitting in his armchair. It’s not necessarily his armchair, but no one in the family sits in it but him. And sometimes Petunia.

She’s kicking her feet back and forth while she plays with two of her dolls, clearly in her own little world but Coriolanus can see that she’s also properly dressed for the parade. Both girls are wearing black dresses with shiny black boots, clearly matching with one another.

She gasps when she notices more family members in the room with her, namely Petunia who is carried over to her by her big sister. “Petunia!”

Coriolanus smiles at the sight of his two darling daughters fussing over Petunia who’s managed to get onto the armchair and tuck all her limbs under her small body as a means to protect herself from the small children.

“Daddy! We’re going to the parade today!” Celeste tells him, holding up her dolls. Coriolanus nods and rounds the coffee table, searching for the television remote. “Hopefully it hasn’t been canceled due to the rain,” he says.

He finally finds the remote and turns on the television to their favorite weatherman’s channel. Both girls gasp at the sight of their favorite television personality, Lucky Flickerman who’s currently giving them a weather report for the day.

“Looks like our parade has officially been rained on folks! Time to fold up the tents and head on home because this rain isn’t letting up anything soon!”

Coriolanus feels his heart break a little when he sees the disappointment in his girl's faces as they both gaze up at him with those blue eyes. “Daddy, why can’t you tell them to put on the parade?” Celeste asks, carefully slipping out of the armchair and coming over to grab onto his leg.

Coriolanus sighs and places his hand on the top of her blonde head of curls, “I can’t control the weather darling. They’ll just have to reschedule the parade.” Celeste pouts but he’s truly out of options and has nothing left to do now. Ceraphina however doesn’t seem to take no for an answer and she runs off to find the one other person who she believes can fix all of her problems.

Soarynn.

“Let’s go check on your sister,” Coriolanus suggests as he scoops up Celeste. She instantly rests her head on his shoulder and he can smell the scent of vanilla lingering on her clothes.

His bedroom doors are wide open so he figured that’s where Ceraphina must have run off to. He’s proven correct when he finds Soarynn sitting on the edge of their bed, comforting a tearful Ceraphina who’s clinging to her mother.

“I take it you heard about the parade,” Coriolanus concludes and Soarynn nods, “Yes, the weather always seems to ruin things.”

Coriolanus spots Caspian sitting in his crib, carefully watching the rest of his family interact. He’s gotten so big and he has his own ‘big boy bed’ but Soarynn kept around the large crib for the convenience of things. “Parade,” Caspian says, holding onto the crib's railing. Soarynn sighs and continues smoothing down Ceraphina’s hair while she cries, “Yes darling, the parade was supposed to be today.”

“Well, why can’t we tell them to put it back on?” Ceraphina asks with the stomp of her little foot which earns her a sharp look from Coriolanus, “Manners Ceraphina,” he reminds her while setting Celeste down on the floor, “and they’ll just have to reschedule it. We’ll go to the parade another time.”

His words seem to do little to comfort all three children who’ve been talking nonstop about the parade for weeks now and he gives Soarynn a desperate look. ‘Help me out of this’ his eyes beg.

Soarynn shoots him a more amused look and nods, “Well since we’re all dressed up we might as well go do something,” she suggests which earns her an excited gasp from Celeste who runs over to the bed and attempts to climb it. But she’s still so little and Soarynn chuckles, lifting her up to sit next to her, “Really Mommy? We can still go somewhere today with Daddy?” Celeste asks hopefully, looking over at Coriolanus who normally is at work today.

Coriolanus has always prided himself on being a hardworking man. For many years he simply provided for himself and Soarynn but with three little ones now in their lives, things have gotten more complicated. More expensive is the correct way to put it.

All three of their children are dressed in the finest clothes, and fed the finest foods, and when they’re old enough, they’ll receive the best education.

Living a life of luxury means sacrifices, in his case, not seeing his family as much as he’d like. After getting promoted five months ago, Coriolanus has truly been on top of the world at work but it’s meant being busier as well. Soarynn stays home with the children, raising them in his absence while he brings home the bacon so to speak.

But today everyone at the office was given the day off at work and the children had been thrilled at the prospect of an extra day with their father.

Soarynn ruffles Celeste’s curls and smiles, “Sure we can. Why don’t we all go down to the bakery? We can get some hot chocolate and some pastries for breakfast tomorrow morning.”

That seems to be the best idea the girls have ever heard because tears are quickly dried and they’re both running off to find a stuffed animal to bring with them. Coriolanus lets out a sigh of relief and shakes his head, “I was sure we’d have several tantrums on our hands, and all because of the rain.”

Soarynn rolls her eyes and stands up from their bed, making her way over to the crib where Caspian is watching her, “You know our girls are perfectly well behaved. And you can’t blame them for being disappointed, I myself am quite disappointed.”

Caspian lets out a squeal when Soarynn picks him up, absolutely infatuated with Soarynn, the same way Coriolanus is. Caspian is a momma's boy through and through, always basking in his mother's presence. Not that Coriolanus can blame him, Soarynn is the perfect mother in his eyes and he's glad that the children can see that as well.

"Would you like that Cas? A trip to the bakery sounds like the perfect rainy day activity," she says to their son who nods, only understanding certain words but grasping just enough to understand what she's saying to him. "Yes," he tells her which earns a smile from Soarynn who presses a soft kiss to his blonde head of hair.

Coriolanus watches the sweet sight with a smile on his face. He always knew that he'd end up marrying a girl and starting a family with her, but he never imagined he'd actually be happy. He would meet some upper-class girl and take her on mandatory dates, doing everything by the books. Then after an appropriate amount of time, he would propose and it would all work out in the end.

But then Soarynn came along and swept him off of his feet.

He was irrevocably in love with this girl and she had gone above and beyond to make him happy. She made him a father.

"Would you help him with his shoes?" She asks him, bouncing Caspian on her hip, "He's quite insistent on putting them on himself now that he's a big boy." Caspian gives her a determined nod, "Big," he agrees. Coriolanus chuckles and walks over to his wife and son, placing his large hand on top of Caspian's head, "You are indeed growing like a strong boy, you'll be as tall as me before we know it."

The thought of Caspian all grown up is an exciting thought to Coriolanus who can hardly imagine his children growing past the age of ten. He knows Soarynn longs for more days with them at this sweet age but the years are short and the days are long. They'll just have to cherish every moment they can while they have it.

꧁ ꧂

"Daddy, can I jump in that puddle?"

Coriolanus pulls a twisted face at the idea of willingly jumping into a wet, nasty puddle but children are curious by nature and don't seem to care about cleanliness the way he does. He shakes his head, "I don't think so darling."

He adjusts his grip on the stroller whilst holding up the black umbrella with his other hand. Caspian stares up at him from his comfortable seat with wide blue eyes. Even though he's nearly three, days like this call for a stroller where he can rest should he get tired.

Ceraphina nods and continues skipping next to him, making sure her hat doesn't fall onto the ground. Many things can be said about Soarynn Snow. She's kind, gorgeous, considerate, and she is very fashionable.

Which means her children are fashionable too.

She dressed the girls in black coats and hats to match her own black outfit for the day, and Caspian looked very sharp in his black vest. It had been a bit of a struggle for Coriolanus to get Caspian's tiny boots on his feet, especially with Caspian kicking them off every two seconds while fussing at him. But he managed to get them on eventually.

Coriolanus glances over his shoulder at Soarynn who's holding Celeste's hand, guiding them along the wet pavement. Celeste has a habit of looking into every shop window and eyeing the clothes on the mannequins. Her wild imagintation leads her to come up with stories for all the mannequins which can lead to a simple walk down the street taking much longer than it really should.

But Soarynn is so patient with her, stopping at every window to listen to Celeste and her stories. Coriolanus truly doesn't know how she manages it, manages to be so endlessly patient all the time. He, of course, loves his children and does his best to be a caring yet stern father figure. But Soarynn is just so selflessly devoted to their children and their happiness.

When they finally reach the glass doors of the bakery, Coriolanus waits for Soarynn and Celeste to catch up to them and he hears a glimpse of Celeste's wild imagination. "...and then they rode a dragon to the tea party Mommy!" Soarynn raises her eyebrows and hums, "That sounds so fantastic darling." Celeste beams up at her and nods, "It is. Can I get a muffin?"

Coriolanus gives her a knowing look and Celeste has the decency to look somewhat guilty, "May I please have a muffin Mommy?" Coriolanus grunts and opens up the bakery doors pleased that Celeste corrected herself. They can't have their children running around the Capitol without using proper manners and etiquette.

Everyone files into the bakery and they're greeted by smiling staff members ready to tend to their every need. "Why don't we sit over there by the window?" Soarynn suggests to him and Coriolanus looks over at the large-looking booth tucked away in the corner. "Good idea," he agrees, knowing it's best to keep the children contained when at all possible.

He wheels the stroller over to their table and carefully lifts Caspian out, enjoying the way that his son immediately clings to him, "Let's go pick out something to eat," he says, adjusting his grip on Caspian who seems quite determined to reach out for Soarynn now that he has her in his sights. The girls are already pouring over all the fancy desserts and pastries that the bakery has to offer them, pointing at the prettiest cakes.

Soarynn stands behind them, a content smile on her face while watching the children. "Momma," Caspian says, grabbing her hair the moment she's in reach. Soarynn smiles down at him and takes his small hand in hers, "Hello my sweet boy."

Soarynn looks absolutely radiant today, it truly is a shame that the parade was canceled only because not as many people will be able to openly admire her. Her own black dress is fitted at the waist and stops just above her knee and she's paired it with shiny black boots that stop just below the knee. Her black coat wraps around her waist with a buckled strap and her handbag for today is a gorgeous black leather handbag with gold hardware.

She's the picture of sophistication.

"Daddy! Daddy, they have cupcakes! May we please get a cupcake?" Ceraphina asks, bouncing on her toes while pointing at the glass display case. Coriolanus hands Caspian off to Soarynn who gladly takes him into her hold so that he can go see this cupcake. He sees why the girls are so taken with this dessert, it has pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles with a cherry on top.

He pretends to think about it for a moment which only makes the girls pout even more, giving him their best puppy-dog eyes. Coriolanus expected many things going into fatherhood but what he hadn't expected was to be wrapped around his daughter's fingers. He was already wrapped around Soarynn's but now he had two miniature versions of her.

Double trouble if he's ever seen it.

"I suppose you two could get this cupcake if you promise to eat all your dinner," he tells them and the girls immediately nod and offer promises to eat every last bite of dinner tonight. Coriolanus grins and nods at the worker standing on the other side of the counter, "Two of your pink frosted cupcakes please."

The girls are ecstatic about their wishes coming true which of course means running over to share their victory with Soarynn who's crouched down to help Caspian select his own treat. It's futile since they both know he'll choose the same thing every time, a slice of lemon bread.

"We'll also take a box of your breakfast pastries, one coffee, one tea, and three hot chocolates," he adds, glancing over the display case. Coriolanus himself isn't much of a sweets man but he can always steal a piece of Soarynn's dessert. She always gets the carrot cake.

"Right away sir."

"Why don't you girls go sit down," he suggests while pointing at their table. Both girls nod and run over to the table, hoisting themselves onto the booth. "What're you getting darling?" Soarynn stands up with a sigh, and brushes some of Caspian's hair from his face, "The same thing we always get. Cas and I are terribly predictable." Coriolanus rests his hand on her lower back and smiles, "Yes you are. One might even go as far as to say that the two of you are related."

Soarynn shoots him a teasing look as they both make their way over to the cashier where Coriolanus pulls out his wallet to pay. "I already ordered the drinks," he says to Soarynn while handing over his card. Soarynn smiles up at him and gives his arm a squeeze, "Aren't you such a thoughtful husband?" Coriolanus enjoys the banter between them, especially when it comes to their parenting methods and he plays into it fully, "Someone has to be the doting spouse."

Both of them are doting in their own ways. Soarynn's ways of showing love and appreciation are more sentimental like little notes and words of praise. She always knows how to make him feel better after a long day by running her fingers through his hair and singing softly.

Coriolanus is more physical in his affection, showering Soarynn with kisses and gentle touches every chance he gets. He loves having his hands on her, giving her massages, braiding her hair, and helping her rinse off in the shower. And he of course loves to give her gifts. Handbags, designer shoes, new jewelry. Only the best for his darling girl.

All in all, they make a good pair.

Soarynn gives him a gentle shove before making her way over to their table, knowing that the girls always require at least a little bit of supervision. Once promises that their food will be brought to their table shortly, Coriolanus joins his family and is pleased to find that all three of his children are perfectly behaved.

He sits down next to Soarynn and his hand immediately finds her thigh under the table. He'd be damned if he let having children keep him from having his wife and their intimate moments. So, he does his best to keep the flame alive, always giving her small touches of affection whenever and wherever he can.

"Looks like the rain is finally letting up," Soarynn says, nodding towards the large bakery window. Coriolanus finds that she's correct as they watch people begin to close their umbrellas while making their way down the Capitol street.

"I still wish we could've seen the parade floats," Ceraphina says with a sigh, causing her sister to also sigh, "And the horses," Celeste adds. The parade consists of many sights, including horses, floats, performers, and of course, the Capitol military. The girls love the horses and floats the most though.

"Yes, but then we wouldn't be able to enjoy this lovely afternoon now would we?" Soarynn asks, quickly shutting down any unnecessary pouting from the children. Coriolanus gives her thigh an appreciative squeeze for shutting down such behavior and it's at that very moment that the food arrives. Suddenly the parade is forgotten when the girls set their sights on the cupcakes they ordered.

"Let me help you cut it," Soarynn interjects before they can get their hands and clothes stained with pink frosting. The girls patiently wait on the edge of their seats while Soarynn skillfully cuts the desserts into smaller bites, both of their eyes wide as saucers. Caspian who's been seated in a booster seat spots his slice of lemon bread and makes grabbing motions at it, "Lemon," he says, looking for someone to help him.

Coriolanus takes charge and hands Caspian his dessert, "Here you go Cas." With all children happily fed, Soarynn digs into her own large slice of carrot cake, humming as she chews. Coriolanus takes a moment to admire her because even when she's eating she's just so graceful, so poised and mindful of others.

She catches him staring and blushes before swallowing, "What? Do I have frosting on my face?" Coriolanus feigns a look of concern and nods, "Yes, right here in fact." He leans in as if inspecting the frosting and places a quick kiss on Soarynn's lips, causing her to gasp.

The girls giggle at the show of affection, they're at that age where everything is "so romantic," especially their parents kissing. Every time Coriolanus brings Soarynn a gift, the girls fawn over the gesture, telling him how romantic and sweet he is.

Coriolanus sees it as a win-win situation. The girls see their father being a loving husband towards their mother and he's setting the standard for their future husbands as well.

"You're horrible," Soarynn chides to which he grins, "I know you just want some of my cake." Coriolanus eyes the cake for a moment and nods, "Well what's mine is yours, and what's yours is mine." Soarynn rolls her eyes at the argument he loves to use whenever he wants to eat off of her plate. It helps that Soarynn rarely finishes her entire meal, leaving just enough for him to eat and feel full and content.

"Mommy?" Soarynn looks over at Celeste who wears a sweet smile on her face, "Yes darling?" Coriolanus finds himself never truly knowing what the children will ask next. It can vary from the weather to war. "How did you know that you were in love with Daddy?"

Well, that's a very good question.

Soarynn's eyes widen and she looks at Coriolanus who raises his eyebrows expectantly, "Go ahead Soarynn, tell them how you knew that I was your one true love." His pride is something that Soarynn constantly feeds and she rolls her eyes before looking back at Celeste, "Well for starters, he never left me alone." Coriolanus scoffs at a statement that's somewhat true but somewhat offensive. He can't help it if he's obsessed with her.

"He always wanted to take me on dates, go on shopping trips, spend time with me no matter what we were doing," she elaborates and it sounds much better when she puts it that way. Coriolanus nods approvingly, "He also is very charming," Soarynn adds, a blush crawling across her cheeks, "always knowing what to say to sweep me off my feet."

Coriolanus loves teasing Soarynn about how flustered she gets whenever he compliments her and she hasn't changed a bit since he first met her. The girls lean closer, eager to hear about their parents before they were born. "But above all," Soarynn continues, "Daddy always took care of me without me ever having to ask him to do so. He always protected me, kept me safe, and made me feel loved and valued. That's when I knew I loved him when I felt like no one else in the world could make me feel the way he did."

Coriolanus is beaming with pride now and the looks on the girl's faces make it all worth it.

"How romantic," Ceraphina sighs.

Coriolanus chuckles and takes a spoon, helping himself to some carrot cake, "Terribly romantic. Don't forget to drink your hot chocolates before they go cold," he reminds them. Both girls nod and eagerly finish their cupcakes, not wanting to miss out on yummy drinks.

"Not a bad way to spend a rainy day hmm?" Soarynn whispers to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. Coriolanus presses a kiss to her temple and squeezes her thigh, "Not a bad way at all my darling."

| tumblr drabble/oneshot |

[leavesfallensparse]

Cigarettes & Wine | M. Healy | 1

'I want a photo of you in my bed, to carry with me when I go out west.'

In which Sadie and Matty have a very brief, very awkward, and very anxious encounter, Sadie gets very flustered but quickly finds herself fitting in with the group of rowdy boys and too many feelings are felt for her teenage brain.

warnings: drug use, implied alcoholism, implied parental neglect, my sweet angel sadie being a sweet angel.

word count: 8.5k

a/n: soo .. hiiii! i am juniper and im begging you guys bear with me i have Never posted on here before. BUUUUTT i am vvvv nervous and excited to be posting this but it's been in the works for tooooo long. begging and screaming to be let out of the word doc its been confined to. so here we are i guess. pls enjoy sadie and matty they are my Children. if the title wasn't hint enough.. this is only part one.

Sadie has had the most stressful morning of her entire life. Her tie is untied around her neck and the only thing she cares to grab hold of is her camera. Her entire life is on that thing, and although she may be merely 14, her camera is her child. She hears her mother huffing at the bottom of the stairs and straightens up to catch a look of herself in the mirror, a mess, as she suspected. Her shirt is buttoned up wrong, her skirt is half tucked into her tights, she has on one Mary Jane and her backpack’s contents are strewn messily across her bedroom floor. With some swear words muttered along the way she is in the car within five minutes and her mum is chewing her out for being late to her first day of Year 10, which she couldn’t really care less for.

“I’ll see you tonight, mum! Love you!” Sadie slams the car door before she can hear her mums reply and heads into the school she’s grown to know quite well. She’s fallen into a friend group with some girls that she thinks will do for her high school endeavours, but Sadie already knows she’s destined for bigger than the small town of Wilmslow. Somebody else who thinks this way is Matty Healy, the boy who’s just gone into Year 11. Sadie has noticed him before, they both tend to frequent the music department, Sadie finds it visually appealing for her photo collection, whereas Matty finds it appealing to the ears, especially his own guitar strumming. Any time their paths cross Sadie bows her head and pretty much runs in the opposite direction, face as red as the wine her mum drinks when the sky gets dark.

As Sadie enters the front of the school she signs in late at the front and heads to her class, putting her camera in her backpack as she approaches her English class. She sighs and opens the door with stuttered apologies for being late, Sadie might be confident and come across as such but that doesn’t mean her 14 year old brain isn’t scared of high school teachers and their strictness. She stumbles to her seat and sits down, accidentally throwing her bag at her feet once she gets out the book the class are in the middle of silently reading. Even though she doesn’t know why the class is reading on the first day she’s thankful for it because it lets her mind wander, her dreams of being a famous photographer is what her mind favours over ‘A Tale Of Two Cities’, Sadie finds Dickens to be boring. She prefers the Brontë sisters.

When lunchtime finally rolls around Sadie is where she can normally be found, the music department. Her camera is lazily slung around her neck, her backpack having been left with her friends in the library. She favours avoiding the gossip for finding inspiration in the usual practice rooms, the ones she hasn’t found inspiration in for a while now. She spent every day before the Summer holidays begging whoever might be looking down on her for something to take a photo of. Somebody else had been wandering the same corridors as Sadie. Everyone in her year talks about Matty Healy, “the boy in the year above with a natural affinity for the guitar he’s always carrying around the school carried a naturally mysterious air.” Sadie can’t think of a single girl in her year who wasn’t utterly obsessed with every move of Matty Healy. Including herself, even if she’s very hesitant to admit it, an admirer from afar per se. She likes to think of him more in the sense of ‘his appearance is inspiring to her camera’.  Sadie was looking down at her feet, frowning at the scuffed shoes she wore for the entirety of Year 9 when she felt a larger figure bump into her. As she looks up and sees Matty with a guitar case in his hand she can’t help the pink tint that rises on her cheeks.

“Oh! Erm, sorry!” Sadie somehow manages to force the words out of her mouth. She seems to have the same shyness about her when talking to Matty that she does when looking her English teacher in the eye. An interesting discovery. She loses herself in overthinking the tone she just took with Matty when she hears him reply to her, something she wasn’t expecting in the slightest.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t paying attention, my bad.” He meets her eyes and genuinely seems like he couldn’t care less about her mistake, he seems to take more notice of her camera, his head tilts and his eyes squint in the direction of it hanging limply on her neck. She seems to grow more confident in herself when she realises he’s looking at her camera, she knows she’s good at photography, that’s something she could talk about endlessly. Matty lifts a finger and points to said camera. “You any good?”

Her eyes widen slightly at the question, and she clears her throat at the same time her head begins incessantly nodding, she is acting crazy. She then begins to overthink her nodding. Why is she overthinking so much? Maybe she’s just having an off-day. She decides that she nodded like that because she knows she’s a great photographer, why would she not be overconfident about it? Seems normal enough.

“Cool. Can I see any?” This is when Sadie’s heart rate picks up. She doesn’t know why; she doesn’t want to know why. She also does not want to know why he is asking her this. Matty’s question has sent her brain into full blown panic mode, maybe she does want to know why he’d like to see her photos. What could possibly intrigue him about her? The squint tie around her neck? Her incredibly dirty Mary Janes? In her 14-year-old brain she decides he fancies her. She’d come to find out in many, many years that she was, in fact, right.

“If you want? I’m bringing my hard drive tomorrow for my art class, they’re letting me use my photos this year, meet me at the library?” She says this with a coy smile on her face, in her head she is feeling a lot less coy because of the way Matty is smirking at her. What she doesn’t know is that he is looking down at her with a smirk because her face is so red that he thinks there’s something wrong, maybe it was something he’d said? After a beat of silence, he blinks down at her with a nod, and they bid their goodbyes. Once Sadie is sure Matty has turned the corner she lets out a silent squeal before quickly bolting to the school’s library and sitting down at the table her friends are at, she might not view them in any light, but they do love gossip. She takes a moment to catch her breath before turning to her friend sat beside her, “Matty Healy wants to see my photos. I have no idea why.”

Suffice to say Sadie didn’t sleep a wink that night. She sneaked through to her dad’s office to edit photos on the family computer at midnight when she was sure everyone was sleeping and when she was sure the photos were on her hard drive she went back to bed and tried to sleep. Unsuccessfully. She then had to drag herself to school the next morning, early, to meet Matty before classes. She had no energy to even be nervous, the eyebags on her face spoke for themselves. She all but flopped down on the seat next to the boy who held in his laugh at the sight of her. “Don’t laugh! I had to edit some of these photos before you saw them, and my bloody dad wouldn’t get off the computer last night, so I had to do it after he was sleeping! Anyways, wanna see?” When Matty nods with a smile she rifles through her backpack for her hard drive.

After silently looking through her photos for, like, three whole minutes, Matty turns to Sadie with a single nod. “So, I’m in a band. I think they’d love these. How about you come to our next practice and take some photos of us? See if they like what you do?” Sadie is now a mere puddle in her computer chair. She doesn’t speak in fear of her mouth betraying her, what would she even say? She nods for a while; she doesn’t know how long she nods for, but she knows it’s been a while.

“Yup, sounds good. Yeah, cool. Cool. Where do you guys practice?” Sadie doesn’t know what the fuck is coming out of her mouth. She is word vomiting all over Matty’s shoes. She wants to apologise but she isn’t sure she remembers the English language. Why is she so nervous? Oh, probably just because the guy that every single one of her peers fawns over is currently asking her to make him and his bandmates her next subject of inspiration. Her next muse. What even is her life.

“At my house. I’ll write the address down for you, hang on.” Sadie’s mouth has gone dry. Now she’s truly forgotten the English language. This can’t be real, and this certainly can’t be happening to Sadie. Matty Healy is writing down his home address for her to have. Not to even mention his literal famous mum and dad. She reaches her hand under the computer desk and pinches her thigh over her wool tights, it doesn’t hurt but she’s now sure this is actually happening. Sadie takes the paper from Matty and tries to process the date and time he’s reciting at her. They’re interrupted by the morning bell and when Matty holds the library door open for her she waves goodbye, bows her head and speedwalks away from him.

Sadie really tries to focus in her classes that day but it doesn’t work in the slightest, all she can think about is Matty Healy and she curses him for it. She tries to read some romance novel when she gets home but she starts picturing the characters as her and Matty and has to put it down. He has unknowingly taken over her brain, and she resents him for it. Can’t a girl even read in peace?! She took pride in being the only girl in her year who didn’t have a crush on Matty, now she can’t even hold that above his head.

By the time Friday rolls around Sadie is already over school, she never tended to like school, but she already knows that Year 10 is going to be dreadful. The one saving grace might come in the form of a boy in the year above. She leaves school and runs home to get changed before she heads to Matty’s address. She has cherished the crumpled piece of paper that held his address since she got it on Tuesday morning, she taped it to her mirror and that is where it will stay. It isn’t like she hasn’t come home every night from school and studied it, she knows exactly where she’s going.

Her shaky hand knocks on the door of said address about an hour later, she biked over from her house and actually enjoyed the ride, the early September sun was shining on her face and lighting up the bumpy country road she took to get here. Her thoughts are interrupted by a lively woman, quite aggressively, swinging the front door open. Sadie smiles up at her with squint eyes because of the sun attacking them, making the blue of her irises look probably insane. “Um, hi? I’m Sadie, Matty invited me to watch his band practice and take some photos of them.” Sadie lazily points to the camera around her neck with an awkward smile. She is coming across very poorly. But alas the woman opens the door wider.

“Oh! He never mentioned, he doesn’t tend to tell me these things though, typical teenager! I’m Matty’s mum, just call me Denise though, sweetheart. They should be in the garage.” Denise walks Sadie to the garage door where she can hear the loud laughter of teenage boys and obnoxious drumbeats. She smirks slightly and thanks Denise, accepting her offer of a can of coke. Once she takes it she enters the garage, and the laughter dies down. “Sadie’s here, boys, she’s very lovely so I don’t want to hear of any teasing or making fun.”

Sadie looks down at her feet as Denise defends her, even though the boys haven’t yet uttered a word. She hears the garage door close behind her and Matty gestures her over to him. He very casually, like it’s nothing, throws an arm over her shoulder and begins introducing her to the three other boys in his garage. She already knows George from a couple of her classes due to them being in the same year, but she lets Matty speak at her anyways. “So, Sades, this is Adam, he plays guitar and he's in the year above me, basically he’s old. That’s Ross, he does the bass, but I think he just pretends to know what he’s doing. And that’s George, obviously he plays the drums, but he just makes a fucking racket.” Sadie flushes at how casually he gestures, how casually his arm is around her, how casually he swears, and how casually he calls her ‘Sades’. That’s a new one.

“Um, hi, I’m Sadie it’s nice to meet you guys. Matty was singing your guys’ praise on Tuesday morning. Been looking forward to this since.” Sadie’s forearm has suddenly become very itchy, and she busies herself in looking around the garage in an attempt to avoid eye contact with any of the aforementioned boys. She notices a few posters on the exposed walls and a couple of guitar cases strewn across the floor, the last thing she notices is a battered leather couch against the wall, facing all of the boys and their many instruments and poor cable management. Sadie leaves Matty’s side and takes a seat on it, placing her coke on the floor and taking the lens cap off her camera.

The practice is well under way and Sadie’s mind has been racing with thoughts of how she’d shoot the band at an actual show. She finally gains the courage to stand up and has failed to notice Matty’s eyes on her the entire time he’s been singing. None of the other boys seem to notice either, Matty doesn’t even realise what he’s doing. When they finish up the last song they wanted to practice (for probably the tenth time), they start chatting about things they should do differently, and Sadie busies herself by looking at her photos on the couch. She gets caught up in them and doesn’t feel the sofa sink next to her, she looks up and sees George looking over her shoulder. “Any good photos of me?”

Sadie can’t help the pink on her face as she nods and turns her camera to him, showing him the few photos she got of him. She found it difficult to get good angles of George considering the size of the garage they were practising in, him being shoved into the back corner. As George was flicking through photos Sadie couldn’t help but study his face, his brows were slightly furrowed as he fiddled with the buttons on her camera, not knowing how to work it. He smirked at a few photos and his eyes scanned over the rest, when he looked up Sadie was suddenly very interested in the opening of her can of coke. She has no idea why she can’t look at any of the boys without her heart rate picking up and her face going bright pink. Maybe because she thinks they’re actually quite cool and she has no idea why she would possibly be sitting in Matty’s garage with them all. But she is.

The next time she has a run in with the band is a week and a half later when they all spot her in the lunch hall and wildly gesture her over. She had spotted them first and tried to look around to avoid them. She really wishes she knew why her subconscious was forcing her away from the boys. (She’s terrified she’ll embarrass herself. That’s why). She gets herself together and heads over to the table they’re sat at, awkwardly placing her bag at her feet. She murmurs something that could be perceived as a “hi” but honestly it could have been anything. “Have you edited the photos yet? We are highly anticipating them.” Sadie nods her head excitedly, glad that the topic is on her photos, something she actually is passionate about.

“Yeah! Yeah, they’re on a hard drive that you guys can have, I forgot to bring it with me today though. I’ll bring it tomorrow?” Matty nods and falls into conversation with the boys, who also include Sadie, sitting there helpless, unsure if she should get up and go to her friends. She dares to glance in their direction and when she sees them blowing fake kisses because of the curly haired boy she’s sat with she rolls her eyes and turns back around. She reminds herself that they are her surface level friends, they have nothing in common whatsoever, they’re too caught up in gossip. Sadie is too caught up in her camera. They don’t gel.

Sadie manages to fall into a conversation with Ross about English and their mutual enjoyment for the subject, she finds it incredibly random but she’s glad to have something in common with one of the boys. She relished in the conversation not being surface level drama that brought a yawn out of her throat, she also relishes in her slight ranting about her passions actually being listened to. Sadie likes Ross and his listening skills. When the bell rings she finds herself bewildered at the fact she doesn’t want to get up from the table, she’d quite like to stay and timidly laugh at the boys’ jokes and general noisiness. But, alas, she must head to the aforementioned English class, she makes a joke to Ross about how she’d rather go anywhere else. They share a hatred for Sadie’s teacher, him having had her for the previous school year. She finds herself falling into step with George, they’re already five minutes late.

They wave a goodbye to the rest of the boys who all disperse into different classes and walks silently with George. They pass by a few people that make them share glances to each other, grimaces present on their faces. Anytime this happens they both laugh and shove into one another until they reach the fated English hallway and George reaches into his bag and pulls out two sheets of handwritten papers. Sadie’s face basically turns into a question mark. “What? It’s the homework?” Upon seeing Sadie’s heart basically fall to her toes George can’t help but let out a baffled laugh. “Don’t tell me you haven’t done it.”

“Shit, George.”

The colder the weather gets the more Sadie begins to feel like an integral member of the group. She’s the one to tell the boys to shut up when they’re talking too loudly. She’s the one to shove Matty anytime he makes another member of the group the butt of his jokes. She’s also the one to tell him when his singing sounds shit. Sadie has been quite the talk of the town recently because of this, her old friends are spreading all kinds of rumours due to her gradually dropping them in favour of the boys. Although anytime Ross catches wind of these in the school corridors he’s quick to shut it down, whether it be defending her or physically getting involved… at least he's there!

The band are meeting up for their last practice before Christmas Day and Sadie is beside herself with excitement, she hasn’t seen the boys since the school broke off for the holidays on the 17th. She wakes up that morning already excited but when she opens her curtains and sees snow she swears under her breath, she couldn’t possibly drag her bikes weak tyres through the thick snowfall. So, she slides her panda slippers onto her feet and heads downstairs, finding her mum in the kitchen with a cup of tea and a cigarette in hand. “Morning, mum! Would you be able to give me a lift to Matty’s later? I was gonna bike over, but it must’ve snowed pretty hard last night.” When she hears the sigh escape her mum’s mouth and the slight thud of her palm on the counter she knows she’s not getting a lift.

Denise was expecting Sadie, she’d grown to expect the young girl’s presence around the house at any given time. But what Denise wasn’t expecting was to open up the door to Sadie, bike in hand, tears staining her bright red cheeks, and no hat on her head. This just wouldn’t do. “Oh! Sadie, sweetheart, what happened? Come in, out of the cold now, just dump the bike, that’s fine. Why did you bike here?” Sadie tries to speak but her brain seems to think that letting a sob rack her body is the smarter way to go about this.

“Mum wouldn’t give me a lift, said she had more important things to be seeing to. Had no choice.” Denise immediately puts the kettle on and wraps the girl up in a blanket, rubbing her shoulders after forcing her to take a seat at the kitchen island. Sadie can hear the boys upstairs and is glad of Denise calming her down and talking to her before she has to face them. After Denise gives her a telling off for not, at least, putting on a scarf, she turns to Sadie with an eyebrow raised. She just sighs. “She does this all the time. Feel like a nuisance at that house. Always in the way.”

Upon hearing this Denise circles the kitchen island and crowds her into a hug which she can’t help but accept. After a beat of silence occasionally broken up by Sadie’s sniffles, the two part, Denise keeping her at arm’s length. “You shouldn’t feel like a nuisance. Listen, any time you come here I’m delighted, probably because you balance the testosterone levels a bit, but not just that, you’re the kindest young lady I’ve ever gotten to meet, and it’s always a pleasure to have you at the house, you keep my boys in check. Now, if you ever feel like this again, phone my number from your house phone, and I’ll come pick you up, can’t have you biking in the snow anymore.”

Sadie nods her head at Denise’s words, letting out a slightly weepy laugh anytime she makes a dig at the boys. She feels strangely warm inside, despite the subzero temperatures she was just faced with, and she doesn’t know why. She’s never felt safer than when Denise took her hand on the kitchen island. Matty’s house is now her safe space she’s decided. Speak of the devil, Sadie hears a clatter from the stairs behind her and when she turns she sees Matty’s eyes light up. “Sades! You made it! I thought you weren’t gonna come because of this snow, glad to see you though, George is chatting shit about your English teacher again. Something about holiday homework, help me take some juice up?”

Sadie takes the blanket with her and with a smile in Denise’s direction she waddles over to the fridge. She makes sure to finish her tea before grabbing a can of coke. Another thing she likes about the Healy house is the constantly stocked fridge, anytime she needs a drink there seems to be one on hand. Almost akin to Mary Poppins handbag. She takes one of the cans Matty is juggling with a giggle and bids goodbye to Denise before heading up the stairs. Matty entertains this journey by telling her that his dad had taken Louis, his younger brother, out to build a snowman a half hour ago and Sadie laughs at the image of his rosy cheeks and tiny hands grasping at snowflakes. She dotes on Louis, always having wanted a younger sibling, she treats him like her own brother.

When the door to Matty’s bedroom opens she smiles at the sight, three boys strewn across the room in one big, lazy mess. They all seem to perk up at the sight of Sadie, George especially. “Thank fuck you’re here, need help with this homework, my mum told me to have it finished before Christmas. And Ross, miserable bastard, is refusing to help me. Have you done it?” Sadie sets down Adam’s can of coke on the desk, cracking her own open before sitting criss-cross on the floor beside George. She nods at him over the can, and he can’t help but cheer and push it towards her, struggling on the carpet. “You’re so much better than me at English. Read what I have.” She sets down her can and skims over what George has written.

“Oh dear, I’ll help you after practice.” At this the boys all glance at each other and the room falls silent. Did she say something? I mean, they’re here for practice, right? Right. Sadie has just missed it, her treacherous journey to the Healy house took longer than usual, and she left late. “Have you already practiced?” When faced with four nodding boys, Sadie sighs and nods too. “That’s okay, we can just hang out, then.” Matty looks at her with a sympathetic grimace. He overheard more of her conversation with his mum than he originally let on.

Matty decides that changing the subject entirely is the best thing he can do in this situation, he doesn’t want to force her to talk about why she was crying to his mum. “We liked the most recent photos you took, really cool. Think you left some of your ones for art on the hard drive, there was a random shot of some leaf in the middle of Ross’ closeups.” Sadie shakes her head, feeling her eyes roll involuntarily. “I mean it was a good leaf photo, I just don’t think it’s our vibe.” Her head is thrown back in a giggle as she takes another sip of her coke.

“You should consider yourself lucky, getting to see my leaf photos. They are very close to my heart.” All Matty can do at this is scoff, he is now the one rolling his eyes. Sadie’s attention is diverted by a sheet of paper being waved in her face. She turns to George with a slight glare, and he backs into himself a bit. “Fine. What do you not understand? It’s just English.”

“I just don’t get it. English doesn’t make sense, I think you’ve forgotten that I am a well-travelled man, Sadie. I’ve been all over the place.” Sadie fixes the boy with a sigh, a straight-faced sigh. She lets his sentence linger in the air as she readjusts on the bedroom floor. She lays on her front as she reads what George has written. It’s not bad, but it’s also not great. And so, she tells him such.

“I mean, it’s not bad, but it’s not great. You could maybe, I don’t know, sprinkle in an adjective here or there, don’t think that would hurt.” Is all she manages to get out before a pillow is lobbed, quite forcefully, at her head. In retaliation she throws the paper back at George. “Well, you can do it yourself then, can’t you?”

“No, no, no! Sadie I didn’t mean it! My hand slipped!”

As the day turned to night the boys gradually left until it was just Matty and Sadie left sitting on his floor, sharing chips that Denise had cooked for them. Sadie put one in her mouth and glanced out the window, noticing it was snowing again, the sigh that came out of her mouth wasn’t meant to sound quite as pathetic as it did. Matty stopped strumming on his guitar and turned to her with furrowed brows, at the sudden silence she met his eyes. “I can’t bike home in this weather.”

“Why did you even bike here in the first place? And why were you crying?” Sadie shakes her head and breaths out a laugh. How does she even answer this? She could be honest, lay her cards on the table, and tell him all about her mum. Or she could be partially honest and tell him that her mum just doesn’t make time for her. Or she could blatantly lie, she’s on her period or something like that. As she weighs up her options she lets out a barely audible hum and Matty cocks his head at her.

“It’s just my mum. She never makes time for me. Refused to give me a lift and I didn’t want to cancel so I biked here. That’s all, I’m okay now, spending time with you guys makes me okay.” Matty’s head falls to rest on Sadie’s shoulder silently. He doesn’t know what to say to her, so he just starts strumming the guitar again. A smile rests on Sadie’s slightly pink cheeks as she hums along to the song Matty is playing, she doesn’t know it to name, but she definitely knows it. “I didn’t think I’d actually make friends in high school.” Matty doesn’t say anything for a minute, processing Sadie’s words.

“Of course you were gonna make friends. I think you’re too good to just be our friend, frankly I’m shocked you put up with our bullshit.” Another beat of silence falls upon the pair. “Just come here if your mum’s being a pain, we’ll cheer you right up.” Sadie smiles at this and feels tears brimming her eyes, and she doesn’t know why. At the sudden sound of the door opening Matty lifts her head and Sadie rubs at her eyes.

“Right, Sadie, I’ve just tried phoning your house phone three times to no answer, so the spare room is set up for you, let me know when you pair decide to sleep.” Sadie doesn’t hear much of what Denise said after hearing that her house was phoned three times, and nobody answered. What if something had happened to her? She sighs and smiles up at Denise from the floor, thanking her before picking at the loose pieces of carpet on the floor. When the door shuts, the tears flow. Matty has never been more panicked in his entire life, he thinks. How the fuck do you comfort your crying best friend?!

“Hey, hey. Come here.” He wraps an arm around her shoulder and all she can do is sigh. She knows if she speaks it’ll end in even more tears, her voice will refuse to work. She gives in and leans into Matty’s touch, the weather outside is a stark contrast to how she feels under his arm. After a few minutes of her silently crying, she dares a glance up at him and sees him staring at the wall across from him with slightly widened eyes, the sight makes her giggle, breaking him from his trance. He looks down at her and joins in the laughter, not knowing why they’re laughing but glad she’s not crying as hard anymore. Yet his eyes widen again when she stops laughing and opens her mouth.

“I want to know why they don’t care about me. I haven’t done anything.” Matty sighs at this, a sick part of his brain wishes he could relate just so he’d know what to say. He looks down at Sadie who is now lying on his floor, upside down from where he sits. He lays down next to her, top and tail, both teenagers looking up at the ceiling, feeling things too big for them to even comprehend, things they shouldn’t have to feel. “Sorry, I feel like the mood is ruined.”

“What mood? You’ve been off all day, making me feel sad. I wish I could make it better.”

“I wish you could, too.”

Sadie has no desire to celebrate her 15th birthday that following Summer. But she’s been faced with no choice. In George’s words they “had to because you only turn 15 once.” George had turned 15 earlier that year and didn’t seem to share that sentiment on his birthday, all they did was go to Matty’s house after school and sit in his living room for six hours. But he was insistent that the group had to go out for dinner, he’d gotten Denise on his side which ultimately led to Sadie agreeing. Her mother wasn’t best pleased, but she’d grown to not care, and her mothers grown to know she can’t fight her anymore.

She got dressed in rapid speed, desperate to get out of the house and reunite with her best friends. She hadn’t even gotten as much as a card from her parents and that says more to her than any words could have, she isn’t even sure they know her birthday is today. Pulling on her jeans, probably quicker than the speed of light, she grabs her jacket and runs down the stairs, she shouts a bye to anyone who cares and hops on her bike to Matty’s house. They’re all meeting there for some big surprise before they go out to dinner.

The August sun is beaming down on her face, she pauses and squints up at the sky and notices how blue it is, she smiles and looks back down at her bike. She decides that draping her jacket over the handlebars is a better idea, her backpack is half on her back because she was in such a rush. When she bikes the familiar back road she takes note of how the trees have turned from pathetic twigs to bright green scenery, she shuts her eyes for a second and let the Summer air infiltrate her lungs. She is grateful to be alive.

When she biked round the corner at the end of Matty’s road she could see all the boys engaged in a water fight, her urge to turn right back around grows stronger the closer she gets, George’s pathetic screams and Matty’s maniacal laughter grow louder, and she can’t help but laugh to herself. She hears Denise scolding Ross for going too rough and shakes her head as she throws her bike down on the driveway, climbing off and running away from all the boys who immediately turn on her with their water attacks. “Hey!! Stop, it’s my birthday!”

George laughs louder than Sadie had ever heard someone laugh before, probably because the boys weren’t targeting him anymore. She squeals and tries to run into the house, but Adam blocks the door, and she feels more water shooting at the back of her head. She hits his chest and tells him to move at least fifty times, but he doesn’t budge so she runs. She runs round the house to the back garden where she knows Matty keeps the water guns, just as she suspected there’s a pile of them, half-full, on the grass. Sure, they’re the shit ones, but they’ll do the job.

She hears a gasp behind her. “She’s found the pile, run.” She laughs and whips herself around, gun in each hand, to the pathetic squeals of four boys who run back around to the front of the house. There’s a knock on the kitchen window which distracts Sadie for a second, she sees Denise waving wildly at her, she waves back and sees her saying “Happy Birthday!” She laughs and runs round the house to get the boys back.

A half hour later Denise calls out the front door for them to come in. They all race into the house, Matty being shoved by George and Sadie laughing so hard she stops in her tracks. She gets stopped in her tracks even further when she sees the pile of gifts under the TV. She gasps quietly and barely hears everyone wishing her a happy birthday in unison, the tears pricking her eyes are stinging the back of her throat. This is the most anyone’s done for her birthday. George puts an arm round her shoulder and shakes her slightly, then slightly shoves her to the presents. “Save the one with the pink wrapping paper for last.”

Sadie’s bottom lip wobbles and she lets out an exasperated laugh. “Guys, this is too much. I don’t even know what to say.” She moves towards the gifts as if they’re going to jump out and scare her. She sees the three cards on the top and picks them up, sitting down on the floor in front of the TV. The boys, Denise, Tim, and Louis are all scattered across the couches and the floor too, just watching. She opens the one from Denise, Tim, and Louis first and smiles through teary eyes at the kind words written on the page. She has the same reaction to the other two cards, one from all the boys, one from just Matty.

After a while Sadie’s face is wet with tears, she’d laughed at some of the funny gifts, and with her new necklace round her neck she looked at the last gift, the pink one, cautiously. “Is it alive? Am I gonna be scared?” Matty laughs and shakes his head. She lifts it into her lap and looks at the tag, it reads that it’s from the boys. Before she opens it Denise cuts in.

“They all saved up for this on their own. Came up with the idea and everything.” Sadie looks to the group of boys on the other couch who all look very smug, she rolls her eyes at their faces and turns back to the gift. She carefully unwraps it and can’t help the sob that comes out of her mouth. The new Sony camera is sitting in front of her. When she gets hold of herself she opens the box and gasps at the sight of it. “Guys, oh my god. I can’t take this, you’re kidding.”

“Well, none of us know how to use it.” Sadie tackles the four of them into her arms, jumping on top of them all on the couch, muttering a hundred thank yous under her breath. She doesn’t even know how the boys managed to afford it, maybe some of Matty’s odd jobs he was doing helped, or Ross’ job down at the shop. She didn’t know, but she knew she would never forget this. Sadie felt that same feeling again from earlier. She was grateful to be alive.

By the time Matty’s 18th rolls around, the rest of the group have a plan. They’ve all saved up enough money to buy tickets to Leeds festival, and they’ve all chipped in to get one for Matty’s birthday. Sadie wasn’t allowed to go before, but Denise gave in this year and let her tag along with the group. She makes all of the parental decisions for Sadie now, since she pretty much lives at the Healy’s house. Denise’s reasoning was that it would be after her 17th birthday, deeming her old enough to go. Matty, Ross, Adam and Jamie had gone last year but all they had talked about when they came back to Sadie and George was how excited they were to go next year, the full group.

Ross, George and Sadie were currently sat in Matty’s back garden, waiting for Matty and Adam to get home from work. Sadie and Ross were sharing a cigarette and talking about the lineup for Leeds. More like arguing. George was observing with a cigarette of his own, he’d only spared one to the duo because he’s stingy. “No, Sadie. Nine Inch Nails are more exciting than the fucking Smashing Pumpkins. Think of it, you’re in a muddy field what would you rather listen to.”

Sadie looks at him like he’d grown a second head. “The Smashing Pumpkins.” Ross just groans, George laughs loudly. “What?! I would!”

“You’re actually fucked in the head, Sadie. George, please back me up.” He passes the cig back to Sadie who takes it and looks at George with a raised eyebrow. He takes a sip of his coke and looks away from the pair, whistling at the sky. Sadie laughs and passes the cigarette back to Ross. He tells her to finish it, so she does.

“No, to be fair to both of you, I’d rather be at Paramore. If I had to choose.” Sadie and Ross both share a look and collapse into each other laughing.

“Okay, one, Paramore is on Sunday, we’re talking about Friday. And two, they weren’t even in the equation to begin with.” Ross nods at Sadie’s words and George just sticks his middle finger up at the pair, who laugh at him again. They hear the back door opening and turn to see Matty, they shut up about their prior argument quite quickly. The trio share a look and have to hide their laughs.

“Hello boys. And Sadie.” They nod up at Matty who cracks open his coke and pours it over the ice in his glass. He looks at the three that have gone silent and squints his eyes slightly before taking a sip of his coke and lighting a cig. Sadie looks at the other two who are giving her looks as if to say, “Say something.”

She turns back to Matty, who turns to her. “How was work?” George lets out a barely audible groan and she looks at him incredulously. Matty nods around his glass and then kind of shakes his head.

“It was okay, not busy, boring. I like it there, though.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome for getting you that job. I’ve been there for like a year now. Remember when I walked in one day and George was just standing in the kitchen? That was stupid.” George laughs at her and she turns to him. “No, I was so confused.”

“I was working, where did you want me to stand?”

“It would’ve been nice to know you were working at the fucking place?” George shakes his head.

“Wanted to surprise you.”

“Some surprise that is, George!” He, yet again, sticks his middle finger up at her. This time she does it back. Matty scoffs and leans his head back with a sigh, he stretches his arms and one of them comes to rest on the back of the bench behind Sadie.

She points up at the sky, the sun is setting behind the clouds which cast a pink hue down on the group of four. They stay outside until the sun is probably in the middle of the sky in Australia. Adam arrives not long after Matty and Sadie gives him a subtle nod and thumbs up, trying to tell him that they got the Leeds tickets today. He looks confused at first, but he gets it after a minute. When Matty goes inside the four speak in whispers about how they have to tell Matty, because George is unable to keep it a secret. The back door swings open again and the four sit up straight. “Right, you guys are hiding something from me.” Sadie can’t help herself.

“We’re going to Leeds.”

Leeds was a fucking nightmare. Everyone fought. Everyone made up. Then they fought again. They all got so high they probably couldn’t see. Ross and Sadie ended up seeing Nine Inch Nails together after losing everyone else, and despite being in the clouds, Sadie remembered to act like she didn’t want to be there. Until she actually started enjoying herself. And George got to see Paramore. Almost. He passed out and Sadie shouted at him in the medical tent after he just came to because she was missing out, she was forced to take him to the medical tent.

Sadie was sick on some girl’s shoes at the Kings of Leon set. It was her, George and Adam having the time of their lives until some older girl started flirting with George, obviously he was loving it, but Sadie was already having a bad high and when she saw the way that girl was looking at George she just couldn’t help it! It all kicked off when George and the girl teamed up and tried to fight her. George was forced to take her to medical and as she was thrown over his shoulder he was yelling about how she’d ruined the weekend.

Safe to say the drive home was silent. Matty had the biggest hangover behind the wheel and Ross was cradling Sadie in the backseat as if she were his child, George was practically hanging out the window on the other side of Sadie. The one memory she has in the car is when they were all sat on the grass, ages away from any music, when Matty turned to the boys and said, “Reckon we’ll be on one of these stages soon?” The question was ringing through Sadie’s mind.

A few days later the group were all sat in Matty’s garden (like usual) with drinks in hand, reminiscing on the festival after they’d all taken some much needed time away from each other. Anytime Matty’s eyes caught hers she felt her heart stop. She isn’t sure he remembers but the day after they got back Sadie jolted awake with a vision of her kissing Matty. She doesn’t know when or if it actually happened, but it seemed too real to be something she conjured up in the middle of the night. Ever since, she’ll wake up in a cold sweat with visions of Matty’s lips on hers. She remembers it being a life-changing kiss, though, so there’s that at least.     

Sadie makes a point to be the last to leave Matty’s house, she’ll probably end up sleeping here tonight, like usual. It’s a rare sight to see Sadie sleeping in her own bed these days, it probably occurs once a month at most. When Adam shuts the door behind him, Sadie feels her heart fall out of her ass, the silence is less than comfortable. If she can feel the shift in energy surely Matty can. He sits down beside her and turns to her. “Do you remember?”

Sadie feels like she’s died in her seat. Her eyes have practically fallen out onto the dining table. She spins her glass on the table awkwardly, thinking of what to say. What would he say if she lied? Would he pretend it never happened? She decides not to lie, because when his face is as close to hers as it is right now, she thinks she’d like to kiss him again. “Yeah… Do you?”

“Wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t, hmm?” Sadie feels like her 14 year old self, meeting him for the first time. Her face is flushed pink, she’s picking at the tracksuit bottoms on her thighs, and she’s avoiding eye contact. She wishes the ground would eat her alive, because one thing about Sadie is she doesn’t know how to flirt. “Hurt me seeing you kiss that other guy the next day.” As he says this his hand has come up to play with the loose strand of hair that had fallen out of the front of her ponytail. She looks up at him through her eyelashes. Her voice is no louder than a mutter.

“Sorry, didn’t know what I was doing, don’t even think I knew where I was.” Matty laughs softly at this and looks down at his lap, but his eyes catch Sadie’s nervously picking at the loose thread on the seam of her tracksuit. He feels his heart skip a beat as he grabs it. This makes her face him, looking into his eyes. The silence around them is suffocating and Sadie feels like she might pass out on the floor. When he makes the move to shuffle slightly closer, she smirks at his face. She doesn’t know where she grew the confidence but when she mutters, “Just do it.” He breaks the distance.

The butterflies in her stomach feel cliché, the way the kiss picks up in pace feels even more so. His lips on hers feels like coming home to your own bed after you’ve been abroad for a week. It feels like the smell of your own house after being away for a while. She knows that when her hand comes up to the back of his neck that it holds an ulterior motive, this is confirmed by his hand on her hip, guiding her closer. She wants to consume him in this moment. When they break away for a breather, Sadie doesn’t open her eyes, she doesn’t want to face this moment, but when she feels a squeeze on her hip she can’t help but open one eye. Matty laughs and leans his forehead to hers.

“Sleep in my room tonight.” That’s all that Sadie has ever wanted to hear.

The slight fling between Sadie and Matty didn’t really last for very long. The group all moved into a flat together and the flame between them just kind of flickered out. George noticed the change in Sadie’s demeanour ever since. He was the only other person who knew about Matty and Sadie, but because he was the best friend of both he had to be there for both. It was eating him alive. He was laying in Sadie’s bedroom, joint between his lips. They were sharing it.

“He fucks anything with legs. But I can’t move on. What’s with that?” Sadie plucked the joint from George’s mouth, and he rubs his eyes his face with a groan. He watches the smoke leaving Sadie’s lips intensely, staring at the way it clouds up in the air and dissipates into nothingness, this is how Sadie and Matty’s relationship felt. He sits up slightly on the bed with an indignant sigh.

“His way of coping, I suppose. He didn’t exactly get an explanation as to why you stopped sleeping in his room. Now he just needs someone sleeping there to fill that void for him.” It’s Sadie’s turn to sigh now. She knows George is right, but she doesn’t like the answer and she doesn’t want to hear that he’s suffering. He’s being a bitch and he should just come and speak to her. Silence falls over the duo and George stubs out the joint gently before opening his arms for Sadie.

She isn’t feeling very grateful to be alive.

[haithamuse]

☆ INFURIATING ─── FT. ALHAITHAM

cw. none, sfw !

Alhaitham is a handsome man — that is, until he opens his mouth.

“No”, his stern voice sounds from behind and when you turned around to face him, he wasn’t even looking at you. “Don’t even think about it. You are not buying that.”

“I wasn’t going to–”, you started to defend yourself, but Alhaitham has already continued the stroll through Port Ormos’ market district and you could already feel another headache coming on. In fact, the Scribe was probably the biggest headache in your life.

Even after graduating from the Akademiya and assuming the ranks of Mahamatas, Alhaitham still crosses paths with you.

You didn’t even attend the same schools and yet whenever you were to collaborate with others for field research, Alhaitham was the one who worked with you when you asked the Haravatat for assistance.

He was infuriating, to say the least.

Whenever you proposed a course of actions, he was quick to counter with his own plans. There was never a lot of room for discussions, yet you still forced negotiations and arguments.

The way he’d talk to people also irked you. He was never straight up rude, yet also never exchanged pleasantries – forgoing them in order to not waste any time and get straight to the point.

In the end you‘d always meet your objectives, but you despised the journey there – because all of it was to be shared with him.

“Hey! Hold on!”, you called out for Alhaitham and jogged after him. Of course, he didn‘t turn around nor stop to wait for you. Though if you had paid closer attention, you could have noticed the way his long strides became a tad shorter.

Once you reached your target, you slowed down with a huff to match his speed. “Also, it’s none of your business what I do with my money anyway”, you nagged, annoyed with his attitude. In response, Alhaitham just clicked his tongue and scoffed, “It is my problem – once I have to come up for your expenses at least.”

It really wasn’t like you to be petty, but this man really pulled out the worst out of you. Anger flared up inside you and you were ready to retaliate against his words, but then he suddenly came to a halt, turning around to face you with a sigh.

“Listen”, he began. For a split second, his stoic façade cracked and you could see the exhaustion on his face, though it disappeared as quickly as it came. You almost thought you were just imagining it. “I don’t like having to put up with you, but we should just finish our business here as quickly as possible.”

Alhaitham mustered your expression for a second – though your gaze didn’t meet his, he could easily see the bitter gleam in your eyes. Your arms were crossed in front of your chest and the Scribe could swear that he might as well be looking at a pouting child right now. Averting his own gaze as well, he continued. “It won’t do any good if Dori notices Akademiya folk meddling in her affairs.”

To the best of your ability, you tried to hold your tongue – because as much as you hated to admit it, he was right. By the archons, he always was, but you’d sooner die than admit it to his face. So in favour of forgoing him a reply, you simply pushed past him and continued the walk.

Your reaction caught Alhaitham off-guard; he had anticipated retaliation, being cursed at or at least being told to shut up. He wasn’t a stranger of your dislike towards him, nor did he ever question how it came to be. You had asked him multiple times why it always had to be him when you requested a work partner. He’d always tell you to simply deal with it, but in his mind, the answer was logical and as clear as day. When the two of you worked on research together, the results would always, without fail be phenomenal.

No matter how much displeasure working with you would bring him, it was his price to pay to get those results and that’s why he’d request to be partnered with you – that’s what he told himself at least.

His thoughts actually elicited a quiet chuckle from him. You immediately took notice of the sound as you whipped your head around and your first reaction was to be irritated. “What the hell is so funny?”

“Nothing”, Alhaitham nonchalantly replied and moved to join you. “I just think you look better when you shut up.”

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[goth-mami-writer]

🩶As Close as Strangers🩶

~{Pt. 2 by request}

🩶@leonw4nter @torisvr 🩶

~(Au) Leon Kennedy × f!Reader drabble

~{Find part one here}

(This one's kinda long 👉👈 srry)

《Leon stared at you now, hoping for what you might offer as some sort of explanation as to why he'd been left out of your son's life if he was indeed the father.

Did you think he'd say he was uninterested in the responsibility? There had to be something- something outlandish for you to omit such a truth for so many years that were crucial.

Years that Leon would never get back as a father.

“What- you thought I'd call you a liar? Or tell you that I had other plans?”

He asked from across the room after you returned from turning on the boy's nightlight, and you sat back on the couch with your heart heavy.

The reasoning for your lie was simple. It wasn't that you believed Leon didn't have the morals to uphold his part of the responsibility. It was the opposite. Leon would've been a wonderful father. But he would've put that hard work to the side to help you raise a child, and the guilt would've consumed you.

If it were anyone else, you would've been on the phone the moment you read the test. But it wasn't just anyone. The child you carried then belonged to Agent Leon S. Kennedy.

“I had just watched you shake hands with the governor in DC. You knew that night that you had a pretty big chance of moving up. We all did. Especially me.” You said beginning to explain,

“I couldn't…I could never ask you to take a step back from that. That's your career, Leon-”

“That's my son.” He said, cutting you off to point upstairs, having heard enough.

He somewhat understood that you wanted him to have the career he had always been chasing. But even if he worked hand in hand with the president himself, he wouldn't have put a child on the back burner. Or a wonderful girl to raise that child all alone.

He put his locked fingers behind his head tensely when he stood from his seat and he paced the floor now with the thought of what was next. You felt your heart racing with the fear of him leaving and never looking back.

He rested his hands on his hips and asked with the first hint of curiosity that came into his mind regarding the son he didn't know,

“What'd you name him?”

You were quiet for a moment before telling him your son's first name. It wasn't the first name that you thought might cause him to look at you funny.

It was the middle name.

“Ethan..”

You took a deep breath a finally said, pulling your robe tighter nervously,

“Ethan Scott….”

Leon's whole body turned to face you but you only stared at the ground. You had named him somewhat after his father. Only because he couldn't have his father's last name. Leon scoffed, holding back a laugh when he said quietly,

“I didn't think you'd remember my middle name.”

You shrugged, shaking your head just the same and said,

“Full of surprises, yanno.”

He opened the door, unwilling to overstay his welcome after noticing the rain had finally let up but you noticed his hesitation. He couldn't move any further without asking one last thing that had tormented him even as he drunkenly stumbled here in the dark.

“So-” He stuttered with only one foot outside,

“He doesn't…have any dad in his life at all?”

You were slow to answer only because you knew that he was easing carefully around what he really wanted to ask. You crossed your arms, leaning on the side of the foyer wall when you tried to determine what he really meant,

“Are you trying to ask if I'm still single?”

Leon winced away from the truth and looked away, giving you your confirmation that it's exactly what he meant. You turned only for a second and he heard as you disappeared to find something from a shelf or maybe a drawer since he could only listen.

You returned with a small book that Leon recognized as a photo album when you came into the light again. He saw your phone number jotted on the back of one of the many photos and listened as you began quietly.

“These are some of his baby pictures. We'll be in your city next week. Just call me if….you wanna see him.” You mentioned offering the small booklet of photos to him.

Leon held it tight in his grip and half smiled, thanking you in silence for giving him something to hold onto. He told you he'd call when he could before leaving off the porch and you closed the door quickly so not even the night air could see you fall apart so fast.

You didn't know what felt worse. Being without him, alone and in silence. Or having lost him a second time.

~Washington, DC.

~That next week

You were chaperoning Ethan’s class field trip that afternoon with several other parents. You rode a charter bus through the city on the way to the White House but all you could think of was the last time you were in this city. Five years ago.

It wasn't the sight seeing or the work that'd brought you to the capital.

It was just the thought of Leon and where he was.

He had called you the night before, almost to your surprise, but he asked where in town you'd be. When you answered, he took a minute to think before asking several more questions - trying to pinpoint exactly where you'd be and at what time. But he never confirmed where he'd be himself. Which made you curious.

The charter bus stopped on the street curb outside the north entrance, and you helped Ethan away from his seat, straightening his uniform before he got off the bus excitedly.

The class was counted out on the paved walkway before being ushered inside, and you stayed close to Ethan in his line of classmates but remained to the side holding your sweater as you walked aloof with the tour.

You walked down the infamous Cross Hall, feeling the renowned red carpet under your black pumps but your eyes wandered. You saw many faces of federal agents and USSS lining the hall now as the students walked behind the tour guide. Some wore suits and some wore tactical vests that supported a weapon across their chest.

One pair of eyes hidden against the wall followed Ethan from the moment he arrived, remaining silent and watchful as the small boy piled in with his class. Those eyes found you now as well, and covertly, they began to move closer.

You felt people huddling in behind you to listen in, and you tried to stay out of their way. But suddenly, when you began backing away, you felt the collision of a tactical vest meeting you from behind.

You turned to see Leon standing there behind you now and he asked with a whisper and a careful smile,

“Is he having fun?”

You went wide-eyed seeing him here. He had an earpiece in, and his federal badge was clipped to his vest. He looked so different now, unlike the other night, but you liked it. It looked right for him.

“Since when are you a part of on-site here?” You asked, trying not to smile too wide, but you were thrilled that he was here. Usually, on the premises, security wasn't a part of his job, so you had to know what he was doing.

“It's just for today-” He said, omitting the small truth of why he'd opted to be stationed here, strangely for only one day. He shook his head and clarified more truthful,

“...I wanted to see him.”

You smiled a little more in love now, and you looked to Ethan in his assigned group at the front. He would never know how close he was to his own father, but you could only watch in awe as Leon knew that too as he looked ahead as well.

The students were led out to the gardens on the south lawn next, and you waited behind in the long Colonnade Hall, watching his class through the many paned windows. You heard someone enter the deserted hall behind you and saw that Leon had found you again.

He still wore his earpiece and tactical attire, but he'd moved his large gun to his back now as he approached the window beside you quietly. You felt like strangers again, unsure of what to say, and you tensed your hands together stiffly.

You knew you wanted to ask him if he's willing to at least meet his son anytime soon. The distance between them now wasn't easy to watch, but maybe it was karma after all the hurt you caused him in keeping this secret.

“I've been thinking about a few things.” He said in a mutter, some of his pushed back hair falling onto his brow now as he turned to you.

You asked what was on his mind as you turned now as well. The words were just there behind his lips, you watched them trying to make their escape from his throat but he faltered, unsure of how to even begin to explain the many trains of thought he had at one time.

“Leon-” You said trying to steady his inner turmoil,

“This is up to you. I don't want you to change your life because I lied, and it's the right thing to do now.”

“No-” He said in reply, still struggling with so many things at once to tell you and the only way he could get his point across was closing the gap between you with a heavy, fated step,

“I know what I want.”

His hands moved up to your face with a desperate quickness when he pulled your lips to his own. He kissed you needfully like it was as an instinct that told him to do so. You melted into his touch and felt freed at long last by the kiss that haunted you since the last time you saw him in this city.

You pulled away with a heavy breath, having clutched onto his vest to keep him close without realizing it. Your eyes fluttered open, realizing you were still standing right in front of the large windows as your heart raced. Leon held you by your shoulders now, just as breathless and lost as you when you spoke finally,

“This isn't the best place to do this.”

“I've thought about you for five years. I can't help it.” He replied with his head resting against yours as he held you, going slowly as he explained what he had thought of in the days since finding you again.

“I don't know how we'll make it work. But I don't want Ethan to go without his dad anymore. And I don't want us to go without being together.”

He swallowed heavily, finally having the fire in his throat to say what had been holding onto for years. He knew it then, and he knew it the night he thought of you, stumbling drunk in the dark and the rain.

“I love you. And I should've told you before you left. Things might've been different.”

You could only smile, closing your eyes again to lean against him. You shook your head, hating yourself now after seeing how easy this actually was, and you mentioned sweetly before kissing him again,

“Looks like we got another mission together after all then, huh? We'll get it in a pinch.”

He smiled against your mouth, in love to hear that you both were working together both for each other and for Ethan.

~~

You walked your son back to his bus on the White House lot leading to the curbside. You felt him turn around to get one last look and then said in his tiny, curious voice,

“There's people on the roof, mommy, look!”

You turned, noticing his fixation with the federal agents on the roof in tactical vests, toting their AK’s on surveillance from above. You mentioned that they were there to make sure everyone was safe and not breaking the rules.

When you noticed another silhouette take shape on the rooftop, you smiled widely to see that it was Leon staring out to the lawn from over the edge, undoubtedly making sure that Ethan got back on the bus.

You crouched down onto your son's level and pointed upwards to the rooftop, making Leon's heart race from afar. He'd kill to know what you were saying as you pointed straight at him.

“You see that one there?” You asked softly.

“Yeah.” Ethan nodded.

“I know him. His name's Leon. Leon Scott.”

Ethan's eyes widened, saying excitedly that they both had the same middle name, and you smiled brightly seeing the joy it brought him. You looked back to Leon, who still stood in awe that even from a distance, himself and Ethan were face to face now.

You told Ethan to wave up to the roof, and he did so adorably with his little arm reaching up to swing back and forth. He put his arm down, noticing that Leon didn't wave back, and he asked you almost sadly,

“Can he see me?”

“He can see you, baby.” You assured him, looking in the distance as Leon stood motionless. He felt the lump in his throat wad up tightly seeing his son waving at him for the first time. He cried all night looking at his baby pictures, and this felt so much worse.

Leon raised his hand up after clearing his tight throat and gave Ethan a minute, nonchalant salute by the temple and winked lovingly, even though he knew the boy wouldn't see it.

You watched as Ethan smiled widely, looking back to see if you noticed. You told him to come along so they wouldn't miss head count and he walked alongside you, holding your hand as he bounced down the walkway, still turning around to see Leon on the roof every step of the way.

“Tell Leon he's cool and that we have the same middle name.” Ethan said in his small voice before jumping up onto the bus, and you laughed loudly, promising his sweet little spirit that you would tell Leon everything.》

[monstersinthecosmos]

Vamptember Day 12 - Beautiful Boy

{tool - parabol}

Being caged in Marius’s arms makes Daniel think of the portico at the Villa of Mysteries. Arms like the steadfast ancient columns, his bones like stone. 

Feels nice, though.

Daniel shifts in Marius’s lap, his legs stretched out, ankles crossed on the arm of the couch. Marius cradles in him there, teeth hard in Daniel’s neck, thumb stroking the opposite artery as he takes swallow after swallow.

It’s so very like him, really, sort of gentlemanly, and yet fear needles through all the same. Perfunctory, until he rips the almost-healed wounds open again. Clinical, until Daniel hears the small grunt, or he gently tugs at Daniel’s earlobe, or he squeezes the inside of Daniel’s thigh. He thinks Marius must be full of shit, every time he lectures about how vampires lack carnality.

But he thinks of the Villa of Mysteries, for some reason. Caged in. If Marius decided not to let him go, Daniel wouldn’t be strong enough to fight him.

Doesn’t want to go anywhere, though. He sighs happily into the pain, shivering as Marius’s nails drag across the back of his neck. He’s as carnal as everyone else, at the end of the day, once there’s blood in his mouth. And Daniel knows he’s gotten ruthless when he hunts, even though he tries to hide it.

His eyes close and he thinks about that night. Marius must be able to see it, and Daniel doesn’t mind. He hopes, as he sinks into the memory, that the pictures might become even richer.

Armand, walking quietly, in and out of the moonlight as they pass through the portico, through the stripes of the shadows. Warm and lifelike in his stolen denim jacket, that still smelled like the human he stole it from. Cigarettes and sweat and cologne, like a normal mortal boy.

The house had been so hollow at night, and Daniel hadn’t been able to see the frescos very well in the dark. Armand had stared and stared, though, trying to read meaning in them, so very quiet. 

“I think he wondered about you,” Daniel mumbles, without meaning to. He closes his eyes and reaches to touch the back of Marius’s head, as if to hold him there. He doesn’t have the power to, of course, but Marius is pliant. Allows Daniel to stroke his hair. He remembers being on his knees, for the sacrament, like giving head. Remembers all the times he held the back of Armand’s head, just like this, while spilling into his mouth.

Marius bites hard, and tears at his skin, opening a larger gash. Large enough for the tip of his tongue, and the sensation of it, being touched on the inside where he shouldn’t, zings down to his elbows. 

Armand’s face had been so ruddy and human, his cheeks a little pink. Full cheeks, like he never quite grew out of his baby fat. It was easy not to see it sometimes, when he could be so cold and alien. And maybe that night in Pompeii was the first time Daniel really noticed. Something vulnerable about him, when he could go soft with curiosity. Looked like a child.

He’s seen Armand in Marius’s visions. Messy little thing. Always glowing warm in the firelight—Marius doesn’t have any memories of Armand in the sun, either. 

“That was the night he told me he loved me,” Daniel sighs. Dreamy sigh, because he doesn’t hate the memory. Because Marius’s tongue is in him, and the dizziness of blood loss is getting cozy. He sinks into the pain, the heat, his toes curling as he hears Marius swallow again. “He must have been thinking about you.”

Marius shudders. He grunts, and shifts Daniel in his lap. The ancient blood tingles in Daniel’s throat as Marius bites his tongue and heals the wound, and lingers there while it closes up. Licks over the healed skin in reverence.

“I didn’t know at the time,” Daniel mumbles. Sleepy now, as the pleasure rushes through. Coming down from the high, and the sun is coming. He cuddles against Marius’s body, rubs his face into Marius’s hair. “Didn’t know about you. It was just the next place I went. But he must have been thinking about you. Chased us both there.”

Daniel remembers Armand’s face, his eyes, as he stepped into the moonlight, as he searched the walls for clues. When he leans in to kiss Marius on the mouth, he tastes his own blood. 

He was looking for you. 

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Can you please write James x pregnant reader? Like she’s showing pretty obviously, 6 months of something and although everyone tells her she got the “glow” she’s very insecure about her body and is worried he won’t find her sexually attractive. But James confessed that is obsessed with her body because of the baby, he just didn’t want to push her. Praise kink? Pregnancy kink? James telling her that he’ll keep her pregnant all the time, because she’s never been hotter ???

Awww, I love this type of request. I hope you like it❤

Sweet obsession

I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, tracing a hesitant hand over my rounded belly. At six months pregnant, I felt like a stranger in my own skin. My body had changed so much, each curve and softening edge a constant reminder of the new life growing inside me. Everyone kept saying I had the “glow,” but all I saw were the new insecurities blooming like wildflowers in my mind. I worried if James still found me attractive, if he could see the woman he fell in love with beneath the surface of my growing belly.

Just then, I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see James standing in the doorway, his presence filling the room with a comforting warmth. A slow, affectionate smile spread across his face, his eyes sparkling with love and admiration. “Hey, beautiful,” he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to my worries. As he crossed the room, I noticed how he seemed to radiate confidence and strength, an energy that always put me at ease.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, taking my hand and squeezing it gently. There was concern etched into his features, and I could tell he sensed my unease.

I bit my lip, hesitating as I looked down at my belly, feeling the weight of my worries. “I… I just don’t feel like myself,” I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I know people say I’m glowing, but sometimes… I worry you might not see me the same way. Not now.”

His laughter was soft, laced with disbelief, as he stepped closer, his hands lifting to cradle my face. “Oh, sweetheart… do you really think I wouldn’t find you attractive?” His words felt like a gentle caress, and I felt my breath hitch as he tilted my chin to look into his eyes. They were so full of love, warmth radiating from them like sunlight breaking through clouds. “How could you not see it?” he murmured, brushing his thumb lightly over my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine.

His gaze dropped to my belly, and he moved his hand down to rest over the curve. “You’re everything to me, love. Right here, carrying our child, you’re more beautiful than ever. I’m obsessed with you… with every single inch,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion.

I felt heat rising in my cheeks, and before I could respond, he leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. The kiss was warm and inviting, igniting a spark deep within me. I melted against him, feeling the tension in my body dissolve with every gentle touch. His hand moved over the swell of my belly, fingers gliding reverently as if he were tracing the outline of our future together.

“You’re carrying our love, and that’s a beauty that can’t be matched,” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. He kept his hands at my waist, drawing me close but maintaining a respectful distance. I could feel his heart beating steadily, matching the rhythm of my own as he gazed at me, his eyes reflecting an endless affection.

“If I could keep you like this forever, carrying our baby, full of us, I would,” he said, his voice low and laced with desire. “I’d keep you pregnant all the time if it meant I got to see you like this—so stunning, so entirely ours.”

A shiver ran through me at his words, every insecurity falling away, replaced by warmth and affection. His hands roamed over my body, exploring the changes with a reverence that left me breathless. He brushed his fingers over my belly, and the tender, possessive way he held me made my heart race.

“Every curve, every change… I wouldn’t trade a single one,” he murmured, his lips trailing soft kisses along my jawline, then down to my neck. The sensations flooded me, igniting a fire in my core, and I leaned into him, craving more of his touch. His kisses sent tingling warmth through my body, and I found myself yearning for more than just his words; I wanted his love in every possible way.

“And I mean it,” he whispered against my lips, his voice deepening with desire. “If I had it my way, I’d keep you like this, carrying our family, for as long as you’d let me. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I’d give anything to see you like this again and again.”

A thrill coursed through me at his confession, and I felt a smile breaking free on my lips. “You really think I’m beautiful?” I asked softly, searching his eyes for affirmation.

“Absolutely,” he replied without hesitation, his voice steady. “You have no idea how gorgeous you are, especially now. You’re like a goddess, and this baby? It just makes you shine even brighter.”

His sincerity ignited a warmth within me, and I felt a smile breaking free on my lips. “You’re really not just saying that to make me feel better?”

He shook his head, his expression earnest and filled with desire. “No, I mean it. You’re perfect to me, and I want to remind you of that every day. Seeing you like this, it drives me wild. The thought of you carrying our child—there’s nothing more beautiful in the world.”

A thrill of excitement coursed through me at his words, and I found myself pulling him closer, my hands tangling in his hair as I leaned up to capture his lips in another kiss. This one was filled with urgency and passion, a declaration of everything I felt for him. As our mouths moved together, I felt the heat between us grow, a magnetic pull that drew us together.

James deepened the kiss, his hands gripping my waist gently, pulling me close but still mindful of my pregnant belly. I could feel his heart racing, matching mine, and it fueled my desire further. “You’re incredible,” he breathed between kisses, his lips moving down to my neck, planting soft kisses along my collarbone.

I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensations washing over me, the way his touch ignited every nerve ending in my body. “James…” I gasped softly, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I leaned back, offering him better access.

“Just feel this, love,” he murmured, his hands trailing over the swell of my belly again, his touch reverent. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You’re my world, and I want to explore every part of you.”

With that, he kissed me again, his lips moving with a fervor that sent a thrill through me. My body responded instinctively, every touch igniting a fire that spread through my veins. I pulled him closer, feeling the warmth of his body against mine, and whispered, “I want that too.”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine for confirmation. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice low and filled with desire. “Because I want to take my time with you. I want to savor every moment.”

“More than anything,” I replied, feeling emboldened by his love and the connection we shared.

“Then let’s take this slow,” he said, a playful smile gracing his lips. “I want to kiss every inch of you and remind you how beautiful you are. No rush. Just us.”

I felt a wave of relief wash over me at his gentle insistence, knowing that he respected my boundaries while also wanting to express his love. “I really appreciate that, James,” I said, a smile softening my features.

“You deserve to feel adored,” he replied, brushing my hair back from my face. “And I’ll never let you forget it.”

With that, he leaned in and captured my lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It was tender and full of promise, igniting a warmth deep within me that made me feel cherished and desired. I melted into him, my heart swelling as we shared this beautiful moment together, just the two of us and the love we were nurturing.

[tsukinotori]

And for my happiness this life is too small

Gojo Satoru x reader (platonic), mention of Megumi Fushiguro x reader

word count: 984

Before seeing Geto, Nanami and the others, Gojo has one more place to visit.

notes: angst, mentions of death, may contain errors (English is not my native language, so I apologize)

He wasn't quick enough to hide his pain when he saw you.

The morning light was flooding his kitchen. You were sitting at your desk with your legs tucked under you, and he towered over you like a scolding parent. You lifted your head from your folded arms when you felt him coming.

"You're feeling much better," he said, grinning, wanting to forestall any questions.

When your face fell in question, he pointed a finger at his hair, then at yours.

"You can stop looking like a punk girl sometimes. For a change."

You sighed and rolled your eyes, but a smile still tugged at your lips.

"You could have just said hello like normal people. For a change."

The two of you looked at each other in silence, afraid of what you might say or hear if you asked questions.

The table creaked as someone leaned on it, and then Satoru's long arm reached across and slapped you across the forehead. You reacted too late, clutching the bruised spot with both hands and nearly falling backwards in your chair.

"Ow! Are you completely mad?"

"I hoped you were smarter than that. You could have gone anywhere, even Disneyland", he grumbled, raising his hand with open fingers to his face and grimacing. "Why this place?"

You didn't answer right away, rubbing your reddened forehead with your hand. Removing your hand from your face, you turned your head to the side, and Gojo noticed four more chairs.

For one heartbeat, he thought he might cry. A little girl in his kitchen, which was too big for one.

Sometimes Yaga said that the reason he took in the children was not so much to save them, but to save himself from loneliness. Satoru had nothing to say to him right now.

You looked at him, smiling awkwardly.

"I'm still waiting."

The light from the window behind you fell on the top of your hair, illuminating it as if you had a halo. The creaking of your feet scraping the floor rolled through the room until Gojo sat down, clasping his hands and resting his head on top. It was so similar to the pre-magic time, when the three of you went to a regular school.

He would go on missions to the other side of the planet, and when he returned, he would find lunch and a house without a single uninhabited corner. In every forgotten child's clothes or lost notebook in the hall there was life. Someone's presence. One day, he realized that he had learned to warn of his return and wait for a greeting in return.

"So then, Kenjaku didn't let you die?"

You nodded, not looking at him. You stared intently at the palms of your hands lying in front of you. "Honestly, I can't say even now. But from the way it turned out, I can guess - he had control over the curse in me".

"That old bastard".

"Gojo", your face frowned slightly.

He rolled his eyes, leaning back with one hand.

"Do you seriously want me to hold back? Is there a Yaga somewhere in here?" Making a visor with his hand, he jokingly began to look around the kitchen, trying to find the director.

You did not look impressed.

"Tsumiki would be upset if she heard".

He took a deep breath. Exhaled slowly. Thought about peace and wished that he could find it.

In the back of his mind, Gojo heard Tsumiki exhale the same slow breath as she did before starting a lecture or glaring, crossing her arms, depending on the level of disappointment.

With one hand, you clutched the pendant, glinting in the sun. Gojo had seen it enough times to know that you were starting to get nervous.

"How is... Maki?" you asked, the question he had been expecting and desperately hoping he'd never hear.

Gojo swallowed, trying to find the words, feeling weak as his throat tightened once more. Maintaining infinity was easier than controlling his own voice, but on the second try he managed to say,

"Was so damn mad at you for screwing up," and even though he was joking, you visibly sagged at his words. "So we'll have to save ourselves from her together."

You laughed dryly. It was still a frustrated laugh, but it was something.

"You want to ask how Megumi and the others are?"

You nodded. Then shook your head.

"Part of me is. The other part isn't sure."

Without realizing it, you had long since let go of the pendant, instead hugging yourself with your arms. The whole position was tense and uncomfortable. Reaching across the table again, Gojo placed his hands on your shoulders and waited for the tension to dissipate.

"Our Gumi has finally become an adult and strong. He's grown a little. And Itadori is keeping an eye on him, so the little brat will be fine".

The corners of your lips twitched. Not quite a smile, but much better than the mixture of anxiety and excitement that had gripped you a moment ago.

"If I had to go all the way again, I wouldn't regret a single second if it led me to you".

"Me too", he smiled back, "me too".

Gojo gave your shoulders one last gentle squeeze before letting go. The walls creaked again and his heavy footsteps echoed. When Gojo reached the door and turned around, you were still sitting with your legs tucked under you, the light illuminating your silhouette. Reflecting off your eyes like glass.

"Itte kimasu".

You smiled and waved.

"Itte irashai".

You rested your head on your folded arms in front of you, as if you were going to fall asleep again, sitting at the table.

The handle turned under his hand, opening the door.

Itte kimasu - `I'm gone, but I'll be back.` Said when leaving for work or school. Itte irashai - `Come back soon.`

[cupids-chamber]

SCATTERED CROSS MY FAMILY LINE! Riddle finally tells you about his childhood.

GENDER NEUTRAL READER A/N: I was on the edge of tears while writing this sorry if it's bad isjiqsj Unedited, maybe I'll read over it later.

Both of you were sitting on the sofa together, as Riddle mumbled under his breath, you both had been together for over an year now, he might as well tell you the truth.

Admittedly, Riddle was scared. How would you view him, after you knew about his past? Would you judge him? Would you think he's childish? He hoped not.

You didn't expect him to open up about his past, he wasn't used to sharing such intimate details with anyone.

Admittedly, you were a bit curious, but you never pushed him to tell you. After all, you knew he had a rough childhood.

"My father wasn't available much, in fact I don't even remember the last time I saw him, and and my mother didn't like talking about him much.."

'So he left him.. with that women?... alone' the thought ran across your head as Riddle explained more of his mothers torments.

She'd control his life fully, each minute to a coordinated schedule. No wrongs could be made by the child she raised, enforcing rules and taking away basic rights when broken.

Sweets were forbidden, no time for self indulging if he wanted to succeed.

"My mother was-is a rather talented person.. and she just wanted me to be just like her! and and if I followed her rules, I'd get some freedom"

Riddle struggled more going on, it was clear he didn't want to admit his mother was in the wrong, he didn't want you to hate his mother. But as he recalls more and more of his childhood to you, he struggles to keep defending the women he had called a mother.

Struggling so hard to not break in front of you, just to keep his composure.. A little bit longer.. he didn't want to worry you, at the same time he's come so far, he might as well tell you the rest.

"And.. I know she wanted what was best for me b-but-" Riddle didn't notice the tears falling, he'd been trying so hard to compose himself in front of you. "I-I'm sorry"

"Why are you apologizing?" you asked with a sullen look, tears threatening to fall from your face as you hugged your partner. "I love you, and you don't have to force yourself to tell me anything.."

Taken aback, Riddle returned your hug, finding comfort in your arms, slowly closing his eyes as he takes in a deep breath. Light sobs could be heard, but you continued comforting him as before... and after a long time Riddle found some peace of mind, in you.

"Thank you.." Riddle mumbled underneath his breath.. "For being here for me..."

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation from me.

[byizoyas]

genshin impact ; red means ily ch. 16 [ written ]

ೄྀ࿐ masterlist ˊˎ- « love is gone » — notes: im late but I’m here with an update (finally)+ next part is ready to be posted tomorrow ehe | taglist is open.

‘you might be able to help me. why exactly is my boyfriend on a date with your so called ‘girlfriend’ ?’

call it timing or fate but as childe started questioning himself about everything going on, he heard footsteps curiously stopping right behind him.

he turned around, furrowed brows as he saw your hand holding his.

he looked at heizou and then back at you, clenching his fist as he knew he had no right to say nor do anything to stop what the two of you had going on.

‘is everything okay ?’ you asked, genuinely concerned for your friend who was obviously shaken by something. you wanted to look out for him, take him into your arms and tell him it would be okay when you noticed her.

the evil woman you despised most these days.

she was hiding behind childe just before but as she grew bigger, walking towards you, crossing her arms against her chest, she opened her mouth, ready to say something not so nice judging by the look on her face.

the usual joyful and nice energy emanating out of you was turning into something hateful. the negative thoughts you had about her, it was painted all over your face and well, she mirrored it.

at this point, one could ask themselves why there was so much tension in such a small space you were all fitting in.

‘hello y/n. are you not tired of being the second one everytime ?’ she asked.

‘what are you on ? childe and I knew each other way before you even came into his life.’

she giggled. an annoying, provocative little laugh on such a despising face. ‘poor you, not even aware of who’s the man you’re holding hands with.’

you broke the eye contact for a second to stare at heizou, internal questions ongoing. was heizou a bad person ?

perhaps it was all denial, or maybe you knew and were simply trying to protect yourself by not admitting the truth. because you weren’t stupid and truth is, you connected the dots and realized that she, perhaps, dated heizou before you did.

‘i don’t- i don’t understand what you mean.’ you told her, unconsciously putting distance between you and the man you were kissing few minutes before, shoving both your hands in the pockets of your jacket.

‘yes you do know. he is my boyfriend and yours is supposed to be right here, or are you two done already ?’

stop it stop it stop it. your mind got dizzy, and your vision blurred. what’s going on ? you asked yourself. oh you closed your eyes for a second and felt a tear dropping down your face slowly.

‘playing the victim when you got caught up is embarrassing, really.’

her sentence seemed endless, as if she would never stop talking. you needed silence, you needed comfort, you were looking for calm, peace and affection but the situation you got yourself into was quite the opposite.

‘y/n ?’

yae miko’s voice called out for you several times but you found yourself unable to move, still processing the latest events.

‘are you crying ?’ your second friend asked. ayato put himself between you and childe and his ex who were both standing on the same side of the room.

‘y/n…’ the intonation on her soft voice made you tear up. ‘i want to go home.’ you managed to whisper against her shoulder when she held you into her arms. and there it was; the warmth you needed at this moment.

miko stared at your common friend who had been awfully quiet all this time. heizou did not seem so surprised about this. was it planned ? but why would they plan something like this ?

you had genuinely no idea, but one thing was clear, you had been fooled by a man you knew for a too little time and now you were mad at yourself. your heart was aching and the person you’d hope to be there for you had ignored everything.

was childe even your friend anymore ?

‘i don’t wanna see you anymore.’ you told heizou first, before looking at your fake boyfriend.

‘we’re done.’

[iridescentpull]

Day two of Hideduo/FitPac Kiss Week – Kiss on the Forehead & Murder Mystery AU

[ ao3 link here ] [ fic below cut! ]

Fit’s never been this interested by someone before.

This detective– Pac, as he introduced himself all those weeks ago at Spreen’s funeral– is very intriguing. While all the other detectives who visited him after the ‘mysterious’ death of his late husband jumped straight into the investigation and questioning process, detective Pac seems to be going much slower, taking in the situation and his surroundings.

He asks about his thoughts and feelings on the events that had occurred and how he’s coping. He’s gentle with Ramón when it’s time to question the child and doesn’t get annoyed or snappy with the little boy when his answers are a bit incoherent. He doesn’t jump to any conclusions and takes everything said with a grain of salt, considering it from every perspective and not just assuming the truth.

It’s... a very nice change of pace, to be completely honest. One Fit is absolutely taking advantage of, considering the circumstances.

Plus, the detective is very, very, attractive. Long, black hair pulled back. Dark eyes that seemed to shine with the light. A lean yet muscley body. His suits were always tailored perfectly and he always smelled like roses. The bonus was how flustered he got every time he saw the dresses Fit wore, stuttering and trying to advert his eyes the moment his eyes landed on him.

Fit smiles lazily, spinning the wine inside his glass with a small twirl of his wrist, letting the alcohol slosh against the edges of the glass as he leans back against the plush, leather sofa. The dress he’s wearing today is a deep, dark red. The same shade as the wine in his glass and the blood that was spilled (not that anyone needs to know that part, though).

And, while his current attire is quite revealing, it’s modest compared to the last few times the detective had visited. The neckline was still low and showed off a generous amount of his chest, but the skirt was much longer and went down past his knees, a slit coming up the side to his thigh. He’s not even wearing heels today, and the stockings he’s wearing only come up to his thighs.

“So.” Fit speaks, voice silky smooth as usual. “You’re saying someone must have not disposed of the body? That my husband’s body might still be here?”

Pac’s face flushes and his eyes dart away, trying to avoid looking at Fit. His fingers drum against the notebook in his lap, filled with his messy scribbles of the conversation and notes. His own glass of wine sits next to him, empty.

“I– I wouldn’t say ‘still here’.” Pac stutters, fidgeting with one of his finger’s of his gloved hand. “The body may have been disposed of, just not properly. If someone didn’t do the job right, then the body would be somewhere around here.”

Fit hums, raising an eyebrow as he crosses his legs, the fabric of the dress bunching up around his thighs. He takes a long sip of his wine, making sure the detective is looking as he licks his lipstick-covered lips. “That’s quite a theory.” He says.

The other male nods. “Well, yeah, but it’s the only one that makes sense. There’s a record of a missing body, but there’s no way the body could have been taken out of the neighborhood without anyone noticing.” He speaks, frowning as he thinks. “The police have been strict in this area thanks to the murders that have happened recently, as you know, so if the body were taken out, then they would have noticed and caught whoever was trying to take it.”

“Yes, the police have been quite diligent since all these murders have been occurring.” He says, putting his glass out and leaning forward. “More wine, detective?”

Pac glances at the glass and bites his lip, thinking. After a moment, he sighs and holds his glass out. “If you don’t mind, thank you.”

The American takes the bottle of wine and pours the other man some, smiling at him as he sits back and takes another sip. Pac gives him a grateful nod and takes a sip as well, savoring the taste of the drink. They keep talking and drinking as the night progresses, the atmosphere getting more relaxed.

After a few glasses of wine, Pac is a little tipsy, yet he finally is comfortable enough to have a real conversation. The detective is leaning against the armrest, head propped up by his hand. Fit’s sitting a bit more comfortable now, having taken off his shoes and is resting his feet in the detective’s lap, who doesn’t seem to mind.

“You know, Fit, you’ve really got me thinking.” Pac says, frowning a little as he thinks.

Fit stares at the expression, entranced. “Really?” He purrs, reaching out and brushing his fingers against the other’s stubbled jaw. Pac stiffens a bit but doesn’t pull away, looking down at the hand before glancing back up at the others face with an eager look in his eyes. “What’s got you so deep in thought, detective?”

The detective hesitates a moment before replying. “You, actually.”

The widow smiles, pleased. “Is that so? What about me is on your mind?” He asks, running his fingers up to the detective’s hair, twirling a few strands.

“You– you’re just very mysterious.” Pac replies, licking his lips as he shifts. “I know next to nothing about you, past the basics and what is needed for the case. Even though I’ve come over every other day, I feel like I barely know you.”

The American tilts his head, eyes glittering. “Oh? Would you like to know more about me, detective?”

Pac blinks before his face flushes again, his cheeks a pretty pink. “Well– I, I mean, yeah. That’d be nice.” He stutters out, eyes widening as Fit leans even closer.

“I could tell you everything about me.” Fit whispers, breath fanning across Pac’s lips. “But, I’m afraid you might not like what you’ll find, Pac.”

The Brazilian frowns, confused. “Why would I not–” He cuts himself once he realizes how close their lips are, Fit’s body hovering above his own. He feels his heart start to race, the beat quickening the longer he stays silent.

Fit’s about to press a kiss against the other’s lips when Pac moves his head down at the last second, causing the other to press a kiss against his forehead. Pac’s eyes are wide and his breathing is heavy, chest heaving up and down as he tries to process what just happened. He doesn’t seem to be the only one, for Fit has a stunned look on his face.

“Pac...?” Fit asks, a little uncertain.

The detective looks up and stares at the other, conflict in his face. “No, sorry, I– it's not you.” He says, pushing the other away gently and standing. “I just– not like this, at least.”

He stands up, stumbling a little, and starts towards the door, only to be stopped by Fit grabbing his arm. He turns around, surprised, and watches as Fit pulls him down, their faces a few inches apart. “I– I should go, Fit.” Pac stutters, averting his eyes. “I’ve stayed here for too long.” He says, pulling away.

Fit lets him go this time, and Pac takes the chance to leave. He walks out the door and down the hall, only turning around when he gets to the staircase. Pac stops, staring at the figure of Fit standing in the doorway, before taking a deep breath and hurrying down the stairs.

As the detective leaves, Fit holds his chin, a curious look on his face. Oh, he’s very intrigued now. Pac was pulling away but his eyes told a completely different story. Eagerness, conflict, desire… Fit smirks, chuckling to himself as he closes the door.

“What have you found, my dear detective.” He tells himself. “What have you found…”