#Anthony needed a good shake to wake up

[stars-of-kyber]

Lost, Drifting - Chapter 7 - A Mirror to the Past

"Will you speak to my mother, then?" Kate turned her questioning gaze to him as they walked, their hands clasped together swaying with every step. “About a courtship?” "Yes, Kate." He replied dutifully for what was probably the umpteenth time in the past ten minutes. "But you will do it today, yes?" "Kate..." He groaned, sighing tiredly. "Won't you allow me some time? To think of what to say and prepare?" "No." ________________________________________________________________

After finally being forced to admit his own feelings and accept them as they were, Anthony and Mary have a very important talk as the nurse reveals more about her life before she married Arjun Sharma.

HELLO MY DARLINGS! HAPPY FOUR DAYS TILL SEASON 3! UGH, I'M SO EXCITED! ARE YOU EXCITED? I SURE AM!

To celebrate (a lil late sure) mothers' day, let's see our fave Nurse being a great mum, shall we?

To my girlies @harnitbee and @ladystanbury, again all the thanks for all the help and support while I wrote this chaos. I would never have done it without you.

I also have been plotting (with their kind help) the next parts of this story and I have to say... This is so easily going to pass the 100K mark. It's actually very funny looking back at the story to the moment I said the backstory of how Anthony and Kate came to be together would be one chapter, maybe two (looks back at the 7th chapter and 50k words where they just admitted their feelings for each other). What a joke.

I hope you enjoy this. Let me know what you think so I can survive till Thursday.

Lots of Love,

Cee

[satellite-evans]

Drunk in love

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: When their wives get drunk, it is up to the Bridgerton brothers to take care of them ;)

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Kate and reader are drunk lol, just pure fluff

A/N:

this is just something silly I had in my mind lol enjoy

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The Bridgerton household was steeped in the soft glow of the evening, and in the library, two brothers sat comfortably. Benedict Bridgerton leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips as he listened to Anthony's latest tirade about the complexities of running the family estate. The occasional crackle of the fire punctuated Anthony’s words, creating a comforting backdrop to their conversation.

"It's all well and good for you, Benedict," Anthony was saying, "to prance about with your paints and canvases. But someone has to keep this family afloat."

Benedict chuckled, shaking his head. "You take life far too seriously, Anthony. One day, you'll realize there's more to it than ledgers and land."

Before Anthony could retort, a burst of laughter erupted from the drawing room, loud enough to make both men pause. They exchanged curious glances, and without a word, rose to investigate the source of the commotion.

As they approached the drawing room, the laughter grew louder and more infectious. Pushing the door open, they were met with a sight that brought simultaneous smiles and sighs to their faces. There, amidst a sea of discarded shawls and half-empty wine glasses, were their wives: Y/N and Kate, draped over the settee in fits of giggles.

"My love," Benedict began, striding over to Y/N, who looked up at him with sparkling, mischievous eyes.

"Ben!" Y/N exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "Have you come to join our party?"

Anthony moved to Kate, who was similarly animated, her cheeks flushed with wine. "What on earth is going on here?" he asked, unable to keep a smile from his lips.

"We were just... having a bit of fun," Kate replied, her words slightly slurred. "Isn't that right, Y/N?"

Y/N nodded enthusiastically, her grip on Benedict tightening. "Yes! And you should have been here, Benedict. We were planning all sorts of adventures!"

Benedict exchanged a knowing look with Anthony. "It's getting late," he said gently. "Perhaps it's time to retire for the night before we wake the whole household."

"But we’re not tired!" Kate protested, though she yawned right after.

"Yes!" Y/N said eagerly. " We have work to do. We need to save the pirates!"

Benedict looked at Anthony with a confused look on his face, not understanding a word his wife is saying.

"The pirates? What pirates?" He asked his wife.

"Silly Benedict, the pirates that got captured of course! If we don't help them they will die or worse, catch a cold." Kate said to her brother-in-law while slurring the words, indicating that the night was surely over for the 2 ladies.

With a mixture of gentle coaxing and persuasive charm, Benedict and Anthony managed to guide their wives towards the staircase, their efforts accompanied by more giggles and shushing noises. Y/N and Kate were like a pair of mischievous schoolgirls, clutching each other for support as they swayed precariously.

"Shhh, we must be quiet!" Kate whispered loudly, her finger pressed to Y/N's lips.

"Yes, shhh!" Y/N echoed, though her laughter threatened to spill over.

Benedict exchanged an amused glance with Anthony. "Easier said than done," he muttered, placing a steadying hand on Y/N's waist.

The trek upstairs was a comedic parade of whispered laughter and shuffling feet. Y/N, in her drunken state, decided it was a brilliant idea to try walking on her tiptoes to avoid making noise. She stumbled, her giggles turning into a high-pitched squeal as Benedict caught her just in time.

"My hero," she declared, leaning heavily against him.

"Always," Benedict replied, his voice filled with warmth.

Meanwhile, Anthony had his hands full with Kate, who seemed determined to recount an elaborate and entirely fictitious tale about their latest adventure. "And then the pirate said, 'No, it's my treasure!' and I told him, 'You can have it, but only if you dance a jig!'"

Anthony shook his head, suppressing his laughter. "Let's get you to bed, love. You can tell me the rest of the story tomorrow."

As they finally reached the top of the stairs, the brothers carefully navigated their wives down the hall to their respective bedrooms. Y/N clung to Benedict, her fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt.

"Do you know what we should do, Ben?" she whispered, her voice conspiratorial. "We should have our own little party. Just you and me."

Benedict raised an eyebrow, amused. "Is that so?"

Y/N nodded, her movements exaggerated by the effects of the wine. "Yes. And I have... ideas." She bit her lip, trying to look sexy for her husband but failing miserably.

Benedict couldn't help but laugh softly at her earnest expression. "I'm sure you do, darling. But I think you might regret them in the morning."

She pouted, leaning in closer. "You're laughing at me," she accused, though her own lips twitched upwards.

"Never," Benedict said, kissing her forehead. "I just find you utterly adorable."

Y/N’s pout deepened. "I’m trying to seduce you, Benedict Bridgerton, and you’re laughing."

Benedict wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "And I love you for it," he murmured. "But you’re far too drunk to remember this tomorrow."

Y/N huffed, but her eyelids were already drooping. "Fine. But you owe me, mister."

"I’ll gladly pay my dues," he promised, tucking her under the covers, making sure she was comfortable.

Once the bedroom doors softly clicked shut behind them, Benedict and Anthony exchanged amused glances, their expressions a mix of fond exasperation and lingering mirth.

Anthony let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "Well, that was certainly an eventful evening."

Benedict grinned, running a hand through his hair. "Indeed. I never knew Y/N had such a penchant for dramatic declarations."

"And Kate," Anthony added with a raised eyebrow, "tyring to save pirates? I wonder where she comes up with these ideas."

Benedict chuckled softly, moving to pour himself a glass of water. "It’s all part of their charm, I suppose. Makes life interesting."

Anthony nodded thoughtfully, leaning against the dresser. "Indeed it does. They certainly keep us on our toes."

Silence settled between them for a moment, the sounds of the quiet house filling the space. Benedict took a sip of water, his eyes twinkling as he glanced at Anthony. "At least they provided us with some entertainment."

Anthony grinned, raising his glass in a mock toast. "To our adventurous wives and the mornings after."

Benedict laughed, clinking his glass against Anthony's. "May we always be prepared for their antics."

The next morning, the dining room was a scene of quiet activity as the Bridgerton family gathered for breakfast. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the table laden with a variety of morning fare. Benedict and Anthony were already seated, exchanging knowing glances as they sipped their coffee.

"Good morning," Anthony greeted with a wry smile, his voice a bit too cheerful as Kate and Y/N finally made their way downstairs. The two women looked thoroughly sheepish, their faces pale and their movements slow, battling clear signs of a hangover.

Kate, with a hand on her throbbing head, groaned softly as she took her seat. "Please. Not so loud, Anthony," she muttered, reaching for a slice of toast but ultimately settling for a glass of water.

Y/N, trailing slightly behind, sat down next to Benedict, doing her best to avoid his amused gaze. "Good morning," she mumbled, her voice hoarse, reaching for a cup of tea as if it were a lifeline.

Benedict leaned over, a smirk playing on his lips as he whispered in her ear, "How’s your head, my love?"

She shot him a sideways glance, her cheeks coloring. "Let’s not talk about it," she replied, taking a tentative sip of her tea.

"But you were quite the charming seductress last night," Benedict teased gently, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Y/N buried her face in her hands, groaning softly. "I’m never drinking that much again."

At the other end of the table, Kate was having a similar conversation with Anthony. "Honestly, I can't remember the last time I felt this awful," she confessed, gingerly rubbing her temples.

Anthony chuckled, passing her a plate of fruit. "Perhaps next time you’ll heed my warnings about overindulgence."

Kate shot him a baleful look, but there was a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. "Don’t be smug, Anthony. It’s not becoming."

"Who, me? Never," Anthony replied with a wink, earning a soft laugh from Kate despite her discomfort.

As the morning continued, the initial awkwardness began to fade, replaced by the comforting normalcy of family life. Eloise and Colin entered the room, their curiosity piqued by the unusual quietness of their typically lively sisters-in-law.

"Good morning," Eloise said brightly, her keen eyes darting between Kate and Y/N. "You two look like you’ve been through the wars."

"Something like that," Y/N muttered, managing a small, embarrassed smile.

Colin, always one for humor, grinned broadly. "Did we miss an adventure last night?"

"Let’s just say it was a night to remember," Benedict replied, his eyes meeting Y/N’s with a tender affection that spoke volumes.

Eloise raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Do tell."

"Another time, perhaps," Y/N said quickly, the color rising in her cheeks again.

As the conversation flowed around the table, the bonds of love and laughter only grew stronger. Despite their mortification, Y/N and Kate couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for their husbands’ gentle teasing and unwavering support.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" Benedict asked Y/N, his tone light but with a hint of curiosity.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to piece together the fragmented memories. "Bits and pieces," she admitted. "I remember laughing a lot. And I think I tried to..." She trailed off, her cheeks flushing.

Benedict chuckled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "You were very determined to have a private party," he said, his eyes twinkling. "It was quite the spectacle."

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. "I’m so embarrassed."

"Don't be," Benedict said softly, leaning closer. "I love seeing every side of you, even the tipsy, adventurous one."

At the other end of the table, Kate was facing a similar interrogation. "So, what exactly were you and Y/N plotting in the drawing room?" Anthony asked, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

Kate looked mortified, her face pale except for the flush of her cheeks. "I think we were planning an expedition to find some pirate treasure," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Or something equally ridiculous."

Anthony laughed, the sound rich and warm. "You certainly had quite the adventure in mind. Perhaps we should consider a career change?"

"Very funny," Kate muttered, though she couldn’t help but smile at his good-natured teasing.

The rest of the family, picking up on the mood, joined in the light-hearted banter. Colin leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "It seems our sisters-in-law have a penchant for late-night escapades. We'll have to keep an eye on them."

Eloise, never one to miss a chance to tease, added, "I think it’s wonderful. We could use more excitement around here. Perhaps next time, I'll join in the fun."

"Absolutely not," Anthony interjected firmly, though his smile betrayed his true feelings. "Two tipsy adventurers are quite enough."

Amidst the laughter and teasing, the lingering embarrassment began to fade. Y/N and Kate, though still feeling the effects of their overindulgence, found themselves relaxing, their initial mortification replaced by a growing sense of comfort. The warmth and acceptance from their family wrapped around them like a cozy blanket, reinforcing the love that bound them all together.

[m0nsterqzzz]

(wife) Natasha Romanoff x reader

word count: 1.8 k

- Snow Day -

summary - snow days with your wife and kids

a/n - ahhhhhh i love snow and natasha.

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The moment Natasha jumps on top of you at 7am is the moment you decide to divorce her. 

Not seriously, but you did threaten to as she shook your body and practically screamed, “It’s snowing detka!” You opened one eye and sure enough, there was ice frost covering the outside of your bedroom windows and you could see snow covering the trees. 

“That’s nice honey. Now go back to bed.” She shakes her head, jumping off the bed and yelling as loud as she can- which is pretty fucking loud if you didn’t know-, “Kids! It’s snowing!”

Just like Natasha, your kids love the snow more than anything. Probably more than they love you. It's a few seconds before the cheering begins, and then your oldest sons come running into your room and jump onto the bed. “Wake up! Wake up!” Lev, the oldest, practically screams in your face, and then Andy- short for Anthony-, the middle child, lays his whole body weight on top of you. He’s fourteen years old, only two years younger than his older brother and eight years older than their little sister, but after years of working out with Natasha, he’s very strong and putting his whole body weight on top of you means basically cutting off your ability to breathe.

The sound of little footsteps entering the room makes you all stop, and Lena, your six year old daughter and youngest child, enters the room with her stuffed monkey in hand and crawls into the bed next to you. She loves the snow, but she also loves sleep just like you.

“Come here принцесса.” Lev mutters, grabbing his little sister from the bed and holding her in his arms. Her big brothers are her protectors, and if you and Natasha aren’t there to treat her like a princess, her brothers are.

“You wanna build a snowman little spider?” Andy asks, tickling her stomach as a method of waking her up. She giggles, a tired grin taking over her face as she looks out the window. “Snow day?” “Snow day Lena.” She nods, suddenly much more awake as she climbs out of his arms and back onto the bed. You think she's coming back to cuddle with you, but you should know by the devilish grin on her face- one very similar to your wifes- that is not true. She stands up on the bed, then lets her small body free fall onto yours. Was naming her after your sister in law (the one that totally did this shit to you a few months ago) a good idea? Probably not.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

And that's how you ended up gathering up all the scarfs in the house, which only turned out to be 4. Luckily, one of them was really long so you and Natasha can share it once you get outside. While the kids are in their rooms putting on thousands of layers, Natasha is in a tank top and leggings like she's about to go out on a run in the summertime. “Natalia. Where is your sweater? Sorry I meant, where are your sweaters? Plural because it’s fudging freezing outside.” 

She shrugs, continuing to make six cups of hot chocolate despite it being 7 in the morning. You chuckle. “The kids only need one cup each Nat.” She nods, looking down at the cups with a nervous smile. “I know…..three of these are for me.”

You grab a few sweaters for her, forcing her to put them on and then standing in front of her holding in a laugh at the now balloon shaped form of your wife. “You look um….you look amazing honey.” She can't see you considering the beanie going down to her nose and scarf up to about the same place but she can hear you searching through your pockets for your phone. “I know what you’re doing! Do I look stupid to you detka?”

“Yes….and this is going on the Avengers Christmas card.” You snap the photo, running away from her when she begins waddling towards you. 

You go stand out on the porch with her, waiting for your kids to come out and join you in the cold. Why they love the freezing temperatures will always be a mystery to you. When they come out, each kid is handed one cup of hot chocolate that they pull down their scarves to chug. They boy’s aren't too big as they’ve grown a lot over the years since you bought the pieces of fabric, but the new one you bought for Lena when winter season started is practically covering her whole head and Natasha has to pull it down in order to see the little girl's bright smile.

You take your seat at one of the rocking chairs you and your wife bought for your wrap around porch, piling several blankets over your lap and watching with a smile as the kids- that's including Natasha- run out into the chilly forest. When Lev was two years old and you had first adopted the few month old baby Andy, Natasha retired from her job as an Avenger and bought you and your kids a large piece of property and a big house. The land is filled with trees that kids spend evenings placing hide and seek in, and in the summer they go horseback riding with their mom. Natasha takes care of all the animals that live around the property and in the barn, and you spend days doing whatever you wish whether it's helping her or staying inside the house relaxing with the kids.

A snowball flies past your head, and you look up to glare at your wife. “Hey! Why are you looking at me? Look at them!” The redhead points to the kids, who stare at her bewilderment. “You know what? Fuck this.” You mutter, removing the blankets from your lap and running out into the snow. You form a snowball, hiding with your kids behind a stack of hay that Natasha left out the other day. Your wife was an Avenger, a spy, and a shield agent. That's all true. But you live with her. It’s not too hard to pick up on her habits. 

You can hear her crunchy footprints coming up behind the hay, but the kids have already formed even more snowballs so you hold up three fingers, slowly putting each on down until you have zero left. They all jump up, practically yelling war cries as they hit their mother with snowball after snowball. You take this chance to run into the forest nearby, hiding behind a tree with several snowballs in hand.

Once they run out of snowballs and the laughter dies down a bit, you sneak out from behind the tree and begin throwing the snow at the back of your wife. The children laugh, but she turns to you with a devil-like grin and you instantly know you’re in deep shit. “Okay Nat….Nat….our kids are watching. They can't see me go like this.” You dramatically tell her, only bringing more giggles out of your kids. 

“Get her mom!” Lev cheers, and your eyes widen as you look at him in mock offense. 

“Whose side are you on kid?” You ask. He shrugs, holding up another snowball and throwing it at Natasha's head.

“Neither. Every man for themselves!” He sprints into the forest, Andy close behind him and Lena standing out in the open with no snowballs in hand. 

Natasha grins at her, opening her arms for a hug. “Come here and give me a hug, little spider.” The six year old narrows her eyes at the Russian woman before sprinting after her brothers, but Natasha is already forming four snowballs when the little girl gets to the edge of the tree line.

You watch with a grimace as your wife throws each snowball at the back of the little girl, and the force of the snow makes Lena fall face first into a pile of coldness. You smack Natasha’s arm. “Natalia! She’s six years old!”

The redhead just laughs, turning her back to the forest as she grins at you. “She's my daughter. She can handle a couple snowballs to the face.” While she was defending letting her child get hypothermia, Lev and Andy were sneaking up behind her, each with a large pile of snow in their arms.

“Um….Nat-” You start with a giggle, but it's too late and the boys are lifting up the piles to drop them on top of her head. It breaks over her head, falling down in front and behind her like snow and leaving it all over her head and shoulders. “That was for Lena!” Andy yells and then they take back off to the forest, Natasha not far behind.

A few hours later, you watch as Natasha and the kids come back out of the forest, and then plop down in the snow with erratic breathing. You get up from your seat on the porch, walking onto the cold field and then laying down in it right next to your wife.

It's silent for a few minutes, but then the sound of shuffling begins. You look to your side to see Natasha moving her arms and legs, forming an angel looking shape in the snow. You all spread out a little before copying her movements. So that's what you guys do for like three minutes, before standing up and admiring your guy’s work. There are five different sized angels in the snow, the perfect replicas of you and your family.

“Mama. I’m cold.” With a small smile, Nat grabs her by her under arms and hoists her up on her shoulders. 

“I think that calls for more hot cocoa.” “Tasha-” You go to tell her that they’ve already had too much sugar and that Lena is practically shaking due to a sugar high, but she’s making her way into the house with the boys trailing behind her before you can say anything. You chuckle to yourself, following after them.

She’s already grabbing the packets of cocoa powder once you get inside, and the boys settle themselves on the couch as you snatch them from her. She groans, sending you her best pout. You've been married to her for a very long time though and rarely fall for that anymore. “No. They can have something else.” The redhead widens her eyes, trying to put on a puppy dog's face that has you laughing harder than you ever had.

“Fine.” You’re not going to tell her that the only reason you said yes is because Lena was doing the face too. The little girls were much cuter. They cheer, beginning to heat up some milk to put in the hot drink as you go sit down on the couch with your boys. 

Natasha and Lena join you guys, the older of the two sitting behind you on the couch so you can lay your back on her chest, and the boys let their little sister choose a movie which is why you end up watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas. Your wife isn’t focused on the movie though. She’s admiring you, how you chuckle at the funny parts as your eyes sparkle with joy.

Snow days are her favorite thing, but it’ll never compare to you.

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[thebadgerclan]

Pall Mall

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x reader x Kate Sharma

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: Your first trip to Aubrey Hall...

A/N: My masterlist will be updated on FRIDAY this week because I’m on vacation all mext week!

Anthony had finally found a gap in his schedule wide enough to take you and Kate to Aubrey Hall.  Violet was wrapped up in preparations for Eloise’s debut, and the rest of the Bridgerton siblings were otherwise occupied, leaving the country estate unoccupied except for the three of you and the staff.  All of the servants who were employed at Aubrey Hall knew of your relationship with the Viscount and Viscountess, and knew to keep quiet about what they saw.

It was a well-deserved and much needed respite from the bustle of city life; waking to the sound of birdsong rather than hoofbeats, having your lovers able to dote on you rather than attend to their various duties.  As he had every morning, Anthony woke you by pressing kisses to your face.  “I have an idea, dearest.”  You stretched, brushing against Kate’s bare skin, the woman still asleep.  “And what might that be?”

“I believe it is high time we introduce you to Pall Mall, sweetest.”  Kate had stirred, groaning a bit as she stretched.  “Do not play dirty, Anthony,” she said, rubbing her eyes.  “Poor thing does not yet know the rules.”  You laughed, cocking your head.  “Is it not a spin on croquet?” you asked, and Anthony smiled, kissing you soundly.  “Oh my love,” he chuckled, a warm, dark sound.   “You are in for a surprise.”

***

Pall Mall, as it turned out, had very few real rules.  Sabotage and subterfuge were perfectly acceptable, and were in fact encouraged.  You thought that Anthony would go easy on you, as it was your first time playing, but his first move had been to hit your ball as far away from the wicket as possible.  “Anthony!” you cried, making him laugh.  “How was that fair?”  “It was not, my love,” he responded, shaking his head as Kate hit his ball further from the wicket.  “But that is how the game is played.”

Kate, at least, was on your side.  She guarded your ball from Anthony’s attacks and whispered bits of strategy into your ear.  When you landed a perfect hit–your ball sailing through the wicket while simultaneously sending Anthony’s ball into the trees–she whooped with delight, lifting you into her arms and kissing you.  Anthony chuckles as he retrieved his ball.  “Clever girl,” he said, trudging out of the wooded area with mud on his boots.  “But do not think I’ll go easier on you.”

After nearly another hour of play, the three of you were in a standoff at the last wicket.  “I propose a wager,” you said, catching both of your lovers’ attention.  “Oh?” Kate replied.  “And what might that be, darling?”  Anthony was watching you with interest, and you pressed on.  “Whoever gets their ball through the wicket first will have the other two at their beck and call for the rest of the evening.  In whatever regard they wish.”

Your implication was clear, and Anthony was immediately interested.  “And what of the other two, hmm?”  You smirked, leaning on your mallet slightly.  “They shall happily obey the victor, of course.”  The Viscount smirked, moving to press a kiss to yours, then Kate’s foreheads.  “Well then, my loves, I hope you’re not sore losers.  For I plan to make this a rather swift victory.”

Before he could strike, you raised your mallet and swung, sending Anthony’s ball flying 20 feet from the wicket.  “I do not plan on making it easy for you, Anthony,” you replied, and his grin could have lit up an entire ballroom.  Unseen to either of you, Kate took her shot, her ball flying straight through the wicket.  “Well,” she said, her voice perfectly prim and composed.  “I do hope the two of you got a good night’s sleep last night.  Because I do not plan on letting you rest much tonight.”  And she sauntered away with a wink, leaving you and Anthony helpless to do anything but follow in her wake.

[ms-fade]

Poly lockwood x Lucy x fem reader where reader is being a brat and they put her in her place smut

Make me

Poly!Lockwoodxlucy x fem!reader

Oh man, this was longer then I thought it was going to be, and ended to short. This is the longest fic on here that I have made and I love this so much! Please read the warnings. Also I call him lockwood/Anthony at different times.

Warnings: Daddy/Mommy, brat taming, name calling: Slut, brat, good/bad girl, hardcore, chocking, the reader being kinda a bitch, edging, fingering.

You groaned as you sat on your chair in the kitchen, everyone was here and it was so early in the morning. You did not want to wake up, and the way you woke up was being pushed off the bed. You were in a bad mood and even the sun outside the widow pissed you off.

“George, will you get me more tea?” You ask the boy at the pot that had already given you so many cups. “I think you’ve had enough because you already had so much. I don’t see how you can drink that much sugar.” Your boyfriend said with a teasing smile.

You rolled your eyes and huffed, you weren’t in the mood. “I don’t remember asking you.” Your voice filled with venom. Your partners look at you as your face clinched away from them. “Honestly it’s fine, you’re the only one who drinks this brand anyway.” George came over and filled your cup and you thanked him.

Taking the sugar you filled the tea with how much you wanted to and drank it, ending with a sigh. You looked over to see them looking at you already, “What?” There it was, the attitude.

“Are you feeling alright?” Lucy asked as she reached her hand to hold yours. It was actually comforting and made you feel calmer. “Yeah, honestly I really need a shower.” Getting up and smiling at her as you took your hand off hers.

“Don’t use all the hot water.” And for some reason his tone made you go back to being irritated . Looking back at him and raising your brow, “I can’t control the water heater, if it goes out not my fault.” You huffed and walked out of the kitchen as they all stared in confusion.

Lockwood was confused but also a bit angry with the attitude you gave him, lucy was just as confused as George. “She woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” George poked fun and turned back to his plate. Lucy looked at lockwood and could tell this was getting under his skin.

Lucy grabbed his hand and tried to think why you were being a little mean, “She’s just tired. A shower outta fix it.” Lockwood looked down at her and realized that was probably the reason. You did get grumpy when you were tired so he calmed himself down. You’ll probably apologize later.

You sighed as you walked out of the bathroom after a long shower, you felt a lot better but you couldn’t shake the feeling in your stomach. Waking down the stairs you went to grabbed a book only to see your partners sitting down and cuddling while lockwood held a book in his hand.

“Where’s George?” You asked entering the room and they turned to you. “He’s out doing research, how was your shower?” Lockwood smiled at you. “It was nice.” You walked over to the small table and get the book you left on it.

“Come gone us, my lap is free.” Lucy asked as she opened her arm. “I’ll stick to my book.” You gave her a sassy smile. Lucys smiled dropped because it was now both of them getting the attitude.

“What’s wrong, baby. Your acting weird.” Despite being a bit mad she was worried about you, and her voice was soft and caring. “Me? What would give you that idea.” Crossing your arms and putting your weight into one foot.

“Darling, we’re just worried no need to get that way.” You glared at him and felt yourself get annoyed. “Oh, and what am I acting like lockwood? Tell me.” His jaw tightened and so did his gaze.

“Just calm down.”

That was it for you. “Screw you.” Laughing in anger you walked away and down to the kitchen away from them. Why where you being this way? You didn’t know why you were so worked up all of a sudden…And why it was kinda fun to watch them get mad?

You opened your book as you started the kettle with more tea. Your back turned to the door and only focusing on the words on the pages, this was calming. “We need to talk.” You heard the kitchen door open and Lucy speaking, you knew Anthony was with her.

“We’re talking right now.” You didn’t turn back and spoke with little interest. You knew this was wrong and you were being rude- But what was going to happen? Your stomach was filling up with butterflies at what could happen next.

“Y/n, you look at me right now.” Lucy raised her voice and sound like a scolding mother. You did what she ask and turned to face them both. Anthony had both hands on his hip and Lucy crossing her arms, you felt the tension. Their eyes were hard and mad, you could tell.

“What?” You asked leaning back on the counter. “That, your little attitude.” God she was so cute when she was angry. “You’re acting like a brat. You wanna apologize?” You smirked as he backed her up.

How far could you push this?

“What? Can you not handle it, how cute.” Giggling you eyed them. “I don’t need to apologize, I’ve done nothing wrong.” You saw their chest get puffed out and the room go silent. They looked unimpressed and their glare was making you almost squirm underneath.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to apologize.” He moved passes lucy and around the table and your stomach drop this time. You wanted to apologize to them and be good, but the disobeying side was winning.

“No.” You rolled your eyes and took your book and went to walk out the room and Lucy moved fast to meet you before you got tothe door. She walked closer and you backed up with each step she took. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

You backed up until you hit someone hard and you knew it was his chest, it was warm and it’s the only possibility in this situation. “You’re such a brat, that little mouth of yours is disrespectful.” Lucy spoke as she got closer. Your waist was grabbed and held into place to keep you still.

“You are always our good girl, and what’s gotten into you?” She reached up and stroke your cheeks while putting in a soft face. Anthonys hand went around your body and then up to grab your jaw into his hands. “You have one more chance, apologize and we take this slow.” His voice growled in your ear.

“Make me.” You regret the words the second they left your mouth, because you knew there was no going back. “I can’t wait till you start begging.” Lucy spoke before she closes to gap between you and started to kiss you. It was rough and sloppy but felt good. That’s when you felt your neck being squeezed and your air cut off, you tried to gasp but you couldn’t.

She didn’t stop kissing you and it made you lose any air you could get, you closed your eyes and started to try and get away. “We warned you but just wanted to be a brat.” Lockwood kisses your ear and your lips quivered against Lucys lips.

“You know only good girls get to breath, but you’re not a good girl are you? No, no. You’re a dumb little slut who needs to be punished.” You wanted to plead to them but you couldn’t. From the lack of air you started to feel lightheaded and they could tell.

Lucy pulled away and looked at him and then his grip left and you finally gasped for air. You coughed and catch your breath as tears rolled out your eyes. “That was just the start of it.” You looked back up at lucy. You whimpered and gave her your begging eyes but she was to angry for them to work.

“You’re kitten eyes wouldn’t work on me, they might later but not now.” You squeaked as your body was pulled back again by your shorts being pulled down. You blushed and felt yourself get shy as she looked down and saw you had no underwear one.

“You wanted this, you acted up just to get fuck dumb didn’t you.” She asked with a smirk. You looked away and in embarrassment and felt lockwood chuckled against you. “Oh, she did.” He teased. Lucy got closer and her hand landed on your stomach and worked it’s way down.

“I’m sorry.” You pouted and tried to apologize but it was no use. “No your not.” You gasped and stood on your toes as her finger entered you without warning. “Someone who was sorry wouldn’t be this wet right now.” Moaning as she thrusted her finger in your hole.

“You know how to apologize, do it and maybe we’ll think about going easy on you.” He sank his teeth into your shoulder without hesitation and you screamed out in pain. Your body felt overwhelmed and your brain fuzzy with pain and please.

“I’m sorry, daddy.” Opening your eyes to look at lucy, her eyes already staring back at you. “I’m sorry mommy, I’ll be good.” You whined and tears came back into your eyes. She looked at the man behind you and they spoke with their eyes. “Not good enough.”

“Oh fuck.” You threw your head back onto his shoulder while she added another finger. You could hear the wet noises coming from your pussy. “That mouth is so filthy tonight,” his hand made its way back around to your neck and you got ready to be chocked again, “I’m going to stuff it and put it to better use.”

Luckily he was softer this time when he chocked you and gave you some air to breath. Your legs started to shake as you felt yourself get stimulated. The bubble building up in your stomach was close to being bursted. Lucy took notice how your pussy started to tighten up and pulse around her fingers.

“She’s going to cum.” She stated out loud and before you could feel yourself come undone she pulled her fingers out. You whimpered at the loss of the feeling and catched your breath. “Please, please. I’ll do anything I promise.” You cried and pleaded.

“Good girls get to cum, isn’t that right?” She asked lockwood and you heard him hum in agreement. “She’s right, are you a good girl?” He turned your head to look him into your eyes. “I could be, daddy. I promise, I’m sorry.” The glossy kitten eyes got to him, he gave up a bit.

“What do you think?” He looked away from you and Lucy raised her eyes at him. “Not yet, but we could work up to it.” She took you into her arms and kissed you to which you returned quickly. Just a few minutes ago you wanted nothing more then to disobey but now you wanted to be good. You craved to be praised.

“Go upstairs, and pick a belt. I want you on the bed fully stripped and waiting nicely, the only way for you to be forgiven is with your ass black and blue.” You whimpered out but nodded. She looked at you and your submissive look and smiled, “Thank him, he’s the one who went soft first.” You turned around to kiss Anthony.

His hand placed themselves back on your hips and kissed you, he smiled into the kiss. “Oh, I’m not soft. Just giving her a break before I break her.” You gulped and stepped away. “I’ll go get ready.” They watch you rush out the door.

“I love watching her bare ass walk away.” Lockwood smirked and lucy nodded, “It’s about to be so destroyed.” Lucy giggled and looked back at him, “You actually going to break her?” She asked. He smirked and kissed her with a evil look.

“I’m going to make her cry, she needs to learn to behave.” Lucy felt herself get warm inside, “I love how you think.” She threw her arms around his neck and his hands pulled her in. “Of course you do, and I love you. Plus, when it comes to her we both think the same.” Lucy and him kisses one more time.

“Now lets show her what it means to be punished.”

[goodluckdetective]

Fic: Safe Ship, Harbored (Tumblr Edition) Chapter 1/3

Ship: Aziraphale/Crowley

Fandom: Good Omens

Rating: PG-13

AO3

Summary: 

Six months after Aziraphale breaks his metaphorical heart, he crash lands right on the hood of Crowley’s car.

In all of Crowley’s pathetic dreams about seeing Aziraphale again, he never thought this was how it was going to go.

Notes:

There comes a time when one must dust off their keyboard and write a fix-it, not because the scene needs fixing but because sometimes you need to provide some conflict resolution to tide you over. I'm posting this in fragments just for my sanity. I'm hoping to update once a week. I have 6k total, so there's plenty still there. The title comes from The Crane Wives song of the same name. Thank you to my Beta readers Rose and @the-moon-loves-the-sea on Tumblr.

Fic is below:

Six months after Aziraphale left Crowley for a bloody promotion, Crowley woke up in the Bentley to find a beam of light shining through the front windshield. 

Crowley didn’t need to sleep in the Bentley anymore: Shax had left him his apartment and Crowley was once again in the possession of a rather plush king sized bed. It was a nice bed, Crowley had actually gone to the trouble of trying out mattresses across London before manifesting the one he wanted in his own space. However, iit was also a bed Aziraphale once (platonically) shared with him the night after what was supposed to be the end of the world, and thus it carried some baggage. So every few weeks or so, when Crowley would wake from a nightmare and reach across for a sleeping angel, he would end up walking down to his car and instead sleep in the backseat. There was no room for two beings to rest in the backseat, and it smelled like his plants, which made it superior to stuffy angels.

The Bentley however, lacked curtains, which meant that when the sun beam shone down from the heavens at three in the morning, it also shone right into Crowley’s face. Crowley hissed, tongue forking, and wiped his hand across his eyes. By the time he had found his sunglasses, the beam was already gone, no sign that it was there in the first place except a cream coloured envelope on his dashboard. From the backseat, Crowley could see his name written on the back in fresh black ink. He knew that handwriting; how could he not? He had a box full of letters written by that same hand over the centuries hidden in his flat.

Crowley regarded the letter much like one would regard a skunk in their immediate vicinity. Part of him was tempted to go back to sleep and leave the letter for the morning, where he could visit a tavern after reading its contents to get drunk. Another part of him thought of setting it on fire, if only to make a point for Heaven’s newest top archangel that he wasn’t going to correspond in the form of heavenly post. And another part of Crowley, the part that was made of jagged torn edges that mourned over the hollow pit Aziraphale left with his departure, was desperate to read every last word. As if a simple piece of paper with familiar handwriting could even sooth even a fraction of that ache.

The last part won out, though Crowley took his time crawling from the backseat into the front. It was always a pain to change spots in the car without getting out of it or teleporting, but Crowley was still snake enough to take pride in fitting through small spaces. Once he managed to sit down, he reached out for the envelope with a hand that did not shake and regarded his name on the back.

Anthony J Crowley. Not Crawley, not “adversary”, not just Crowley but the full name he’d picked for himself. This letter had to be from Aziraphale alright; even if heaven could fake Aziraphale’s handwriting, they couldn’t fake enough effort to learn and use the actual name Crowley preferred. Crowley flipped over the letter and regarded the wax seal. The wax was a ruby red, and it reminded Crowley of the colour of those apples in the Garden. He rubbed his thumb over the front and hesitated.

After a few months of getting outrageously drunk, Crowley had made an effort to try to make a life outside of Aziraphale. That was what Nina and Maggie had advised him the last time he’d been in Soho, popping into their respective shops to check in on the bookshop without actually going inside. Maggie had handed him newspaper and tabloid clippings about recovering from bad breakups, which Crowley pretended to throw away but actually read. Nina, on the other hand, had taken one look at him sitting in his car and listening to “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac and told him he “needed to build some resilience.” 

It was pathetic, being fretted about by two mortals with only a limited understanding of his own problems, but Crowley hadn’t had the energy to resist their pushing. So he’d read the clippings, moved his things back into his flat and sought out to build something for himself for once, rather than for himself and Aziraphale. 

Crowley now owned a calendar that he sometimes used. He’d joined a community gardening group where people found his methods off-putting but not so much to be considered alarming. He reached out to Muriel (never in the bookshop, he refused to step foot into the bookshop) and sought to teach them the basics of passing as human less they blow occult beings cover for the next century. He’d even stopped by to visit Anathema for advice on blocking himself from heaven and hell, and spent twenty minutes complaining about inaccuracies of demons in some of her books.

It wasn’t a satisfying existence. He knew his many new connections were mortal, and like those mortal connections before them, would one day be taken away by Death themselves. But he wasn’t outright miserable most days, which was an improvement. He’d managed to turn the loss of Aziraphale from an open wound into a constant ache; always present but not always debilitating. Were Crowley to open this letter, he thought, he’d be ripping open the wound anew, letting in waves of fresh hurt with it. And for what? For Aziraphale to beg him to become Heaven’s choir boy? To receive instructions about how he needed to stay out of holy business? To read that he still had Aziraphale’s books about early astronomy and Azirapahle wanted them back? It really wasn’t worth it. He’d be far better off leaving the letter unread.

The problem was, well, Crowley had been the serpent of Eden for a reason. He’d always had a taste for knowledge. It was both his best trait and his most damming attribute. The tempter was weak to what it should not touch; questions, knowledge, Principalities. If he was going to break his heart even further, at least it would be on brand. 

With that thought, he opened the letter. The stationary was not the type Aziraphale favoured, too crisp with no texture. Crowley could practically smell the heaven on it; the office smell of starched suits and overpriced coffee. He unfolded it, smoothed it out and then began to read. 

It was less than six sentences. That was reason enough for alarm; Aziraphale would never write something in three words that he could accomplish in three paragraphs. He was only this brief under two circumstances; when he was furious and when he could not spare more time to write. As Crowley read, it became obvious this situation was the latter. 

If you have received this letter, I’ve failed yet again. I have no right, but I must ask one more thing of you and I implore you to listen.

Go to Alpha-Cebtarui. Or any star. Heaven is coming: please be safe. 

I’m sorry. 

Before Crowley was even done finishing the last line, he was starting the car and plotting the fastest way to get the entrance to heaven. He still had that outfit and sticker: it would work again to sneak in. If he needed to sneak in anyway; as much as Aziraphale had hurt him, he doubted he’d try to keep him out. Crowley would just go up, get this all sorted for the sake of his enjoyment of fine wine and whiskey, and then leave with as much of his dignity intact as he could muster. He pressed down on the gas and-

The Bentley for the first time in his century of owning it, did not move. Instead, the headlights shone into night and Queen’s Don’t Lose Your Head began to play. 

“Oh come on. Now is not the time to be throwing a fit.” 

The Bentley’s headlights turned off along with the engine entirely. The Queen, however, kept playing.

“Is this your way of trying to protect me? I’m a demon, I don’t have any dignity to save. Where was this level of protectiveness when I decided to drink three bottles of Jeppson’s Malort?”

The Jeppson’s Malort was a low point in his post Aziraphale sulk. After spending so much time stationed in London, Crowley had decided to leave the city where every location reminded him of soft blonde curls and a lovely smile, and do some travelling. Said travelling mostly consisted of hitting up bars across the world and drinking as much of their liquor as he could stand. The Malort, he’d encountered in a tiny hole in the wall on the Southwest Side of Chicago. After drinking three full bottles, he’d woken up in the Adler Planetarium, his drunken corrections of the stars' ages scrawled across the planetarium sky.  After that, he’d sworn off his tour and returned to London, where the grey clouds greeted his mood like an old friend. 

The Bentley still did not move. Crowley scowled, slapping his hand on the dashboard.  With his other hand, he waved the letter around.

“Look, this is important. I appreciate your concerns but I have self respect-“

The engine started with a low whine then stopped again. Crowley’s lips curled into a frown.

“Okay, I don’t, but I’m not going to let him walk all over me. He might be in real trouble and that means the world might be in real trouble. Do you want to try driving off road in space because if the world is done for, so is pavement!”

The Bentley’s lights flared on and Crowley was thrust into the steering wheel as it moved exactly one foot forward and parked there. The letter fell out of his hand with the shock and he fumbled grabbing it with his other free hand. He pressed down on the gas again and scowled.

“What in Satan’s name are you waiting for-“

After centuries of experiencing the invention known as weather, Crowley had gotten somewhat used to things falling from the sky. He’d been one of them. Rain, snow, sleet; it was all part of being on the Earth’s surface. He’d also seen some unusual things come from above, God had enjoyed some oddball signs in the early days, and thus Crowley considered himself well prepared for most things the upper atmosphere could throw at him.

When something large crashed into the front of the Bentley, grazing the front and shaking the pavement, Crowley was entirely thrown off guard.

“What the-“ Crowley sprang out of the car, the letter he’d been holding falling from his grasp. It was dark out, but with the Bentley’s headlights and his own vision, he could see the figure that had fallen in front of him. Their clothing, once clean white, was torn in places. The jacket they wore, at least 50 years out of fashion, was missing a few buttons. Face down on the pavement, they groaned like one waking up from a hangover. 

Crowley took a step forward and reached out, grabbing the figure’s shoulder to turn them on their back.  Before he move them over, he knew exactly who was in front of him; how could he not? He’d recognize those blonde-white curls anywhere. And those bright blue eyes, slightly teary but trying desperately to hold them back to save face. The same his eyes had looked the last time Crowley saw him.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley whispered. Aziraphale had a massive cut on his cheek and he looked up at Crowley and smiled. The same smile he given Crowley for thousands of years and then tried to hide. Maybe it was due to his current state, but he didn’t hide it now. Instead, his gaze drifted to the Bently and chagrined look graced his face. Like he’d been caught enjoying Crowley’s music instead of free falling right onto his car.

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale said, one hand coming up to pat Crowley on the arm. “I tried to not hit the car.”

With that, Aziraphale’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he passed out.

[theshippirate22]

GO au where Nanny Ashtoreth Miss Vida Boheme’s her way into Harriet Dowling’s life after finding out she’s being abused and the elaborate multi-national-nanny-situation is to keep Warlock out of it and they become really good friends because of it. After Warlock gets too old for a nanny, Crowley and Harriet stay in touch because Crowley really did love that bratty kid and Ashtoreth (her first name is Marjorie) was Harriet’s only real friend. They eventually even made a pact that when Harriet decided to leave Thaddeus, Marjorie would help her with all of it, and they could even live together if it came down to it.

Only for post-divorce Crowley to get a call that he thinks is going to be the fated “i’m taking the end tables and the kid” conversation but it’s actually a sobbing eighteen-year-old Warlock telling him that Harriet’s dead, she’s dead, Nanny, shes dead, i don’t know what to-“

and Marjorie comes back to mourn her only real human friend with her pseudo-son who’s much too old to be sitting in her lap bawling, but he’s doing it anyway and she’s holding him and keeping it together because that’s what he needs and after the funeral she takes him back to her flat so he doesn’t have to grieve alone and only then, when Warlock is asleep in the other room, taken care of and fairly contented, that she’ll find herself on the floor of the shower, shaking, rinsing away the trails of mascara and eyeliner that pooled at the bottom of her glasses and the horrendous pink lipstick and the semi-permanent curl to her hair and it’ll just be Crowley, who doesn’t have the love of his life OR his best friend and everything feels too heavy to bear and there’s tears he didn’t know he had left streaming down his face and the next thing he knows, the water shuts off and it’s just him and his wheezy breath but there’s a warm hand on his back, and look at that.

It’s Aziraphale, kneeling just next to the tub, looking at him with the solidarity of perfect understanding. All he says is, “I heard about Harriet,” and Crowley relapses instantly into sobs, leaning into him for support and Aziraphale accepts the whole soaking armful of him and holds him until he’s got nothing left and eventually, he’ll haul him out of tub and dry him off and get him to bed and hold him still while he sleeps of the emotional exhaustion that is grief, but for now…

For now, there was just them, and there may have been love between them once and it may or may not still be there now, but they don’t have the time to look into that, and it doesn’t matter anyway because there is something and it might just be the intimacy of empathy or the silent, complete understanding but there’s comfort and safety in familiarity so every guarded cell in Crowley’s body won’t fight the way Aziraphale’s breath feels on his temples

And when Warlock wakes up to breakfast made by a familiar man with white curls and blue eyes, he’ll burst into tears all over again at the softness and safety and he won’t have time to question the fact that Marjorie is also Anthony because all he knows is the both of them are sitting at the table sobbing over the same woman and it’s the very, well

It’s very Human.

[kayhi808]

Perfect Match - 18

Bundled up in Billy's arms again after he wakes you from a nightmare, "I need to know what happened, Billy. I don't know what's true and what's my imagination. It makes me feel like I'm going crazy." You've avoided talking about your kidnapping and what happened to you, but now that you've been released from the hospital and home with Billy, you need answers.

He squeezes you tighter & dropped a kiss on your forehead, "I have been waiting for you to ask me. Do you remember who organized your kidnapping?"

"My father & Paulo. Paulo, he was my dad's choice for my husband. They were setting up Mike to take the fall."

"Your grandfather set Mike up with a new identity & we're looking out for him. I owe him for everything he did for you, and I promised I would take care of him." You sigh with relief. You picked a good man. Of course, Bill would look after Mike, you didn't even have to mention the promise you made.

"What about my father & Paulo?" You gulp and your voice wavers.

"Enzo has them under guard. He sent men to grab them while we came for you."

"Paulo & my father's men who helped him. Those who were at the house. I want them dead." Billy squeezes you tighter. "I'll have to talk to grandfather about what to do with dad."

"Angel, there is something I haven't told you. I wanted to make sure you were strong enough to hear it first. I'm sorry for keeping this from you, but please know I had the best intention at heart." His voice rough in my ear, laced with pain.

Pulling away to look at him, his somber expression worrying you. "Billy?"

"You were pregnant at the time of the attack. Just a few weeks along. The baby wasn't able to survive what your body went through."

The panic overwhelms you. Your heart races. You've suffered so much, but nothing can compare to the pain of hearing what Billy just shared with you. Tears fall freely and you cry. Sobs wrack your body once more as Billy holds you close. You don't need to see his tears to know that they are there. You feel the wetness leak onto your cheek. You both lost so much. You stay wrapped in each other's arms until the tears dry.

Epilogue

"Man, why so serious?" Frank grabs a hold of Billy's shoulders & give him a little shake, handing him his jacket. Bill pulls on his suit jacket, which is different from the one he wore before. Bill can't control the flashbacks of the pain he felt waiting at the end of the aisle only for you not to show.

This wedding is entirely different from the last. It's a simple and casual affair. Bill would have been happy to have whisked you off to City Hall, so you quickly put one together because you didn't want to wait either. He knows you're upstairs with Maria, getting ready as well. Safe & secured.

*****

The ceremony & reception is all taking place in your townhouse. Billy let you & Maria use your room to get ready, while him and Frank were in the study. You had asked Maria to be your Maid of Honor, because Frank was the Best Man & because she truly cares for Billy. While you were in the hospital, she would drop by & make sure Billy ate & was taking care of himself as well. They are his family, soon to be yours.

There's a light tapping on your door, "Piccola? Are you ready?" Maria lets your grandfather in. Grandfather signed the businesses over to Billy the other week. This whole ordeal has taken its toll on him, having to choose between his granddaughter & his son. You both decided to banish your father. There's an open kill order on Anthony Luciano, if he steps foot onto Italian or US soil. He won't be getting the Italian businesses. Grandfather will assign it over to you and Billy once you become familiar with it.

*****

Once again, Billy is standing at the bottom of the aisle with Frank at his side. "Smile, man. You look like you're gonna kill someone." Bill rolls his neck & hitches his shoulder, trying to loosen up. He's startled to attention when the double doors open & Maria is standing in the doorway. She makes her way down the aisle, her eyes on Frank. Bill looks over his shoulder at the smile on Frank's face. She hugs the men before taking her place across the aisle from them.

Soft strings of Etta James' At Last starts playing & Bill's eye's return to the doorway and his world stops. Bill can't get over how stunning you look. The dress you wear is completely different from the one you originally chose. It's a simple tea-length sheath, but you've never been more beautiful.

It takes forever but you finally make your way to Billy. The closer you get, the bigger the both of you smile. When you finally reach his side, your grandfather hands you off to Billy, "Look after my girl, Bill."

"Yes, sir." Bill smile & nods. Bill's mind is racing. He can't believe you're here and you're going to be his wife. All he can do is stare at you. He doesn't even pay attention to what the wedding officiant is saying. The next thing he knows is that you're pinching his wrist. He flinches with a soft, "ow".

"Your vows?"

"Oh." Bill clears his throat. "I'm not great in telling you how I feel. You had to be unconscious before I told you I loved you for the first time." Encouraged by the chuckles heard around the room, Bill's voice becomes stronger. "But standing here, I've never been surer. You've become my whole world. I know you could rule this world alone, but I'm honored to stand by your side. I promise to love you, fight with you, protect you, care for you always. I will love you until I take my final breath."

"Bill, I never knew you'd become this person to me. I realize that I was merely existing. You brought me to life. I feel stronger just having you near. You, steam-rolling your way into my life, was the best thing that ever happened to me. I'm so fortunate to be your wife. I'm so excited to go through life with you. I promise to love you & be true to you, forever"

The rest of the ceremony goes by in a blur. All the two of you were waiting for was "Ladies & Gentlemen, friends & family, I ask you to stand united to show your love for the new Mr. & Mrs. William Russo. You may now kiss your bride."

Billy didn't need to be told twice. He leans in to take your lips in a bruising kiss. Sealing the deal. Making a vow.

@e-dubbc11 @idaofinfinity @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @snowkestrel @jvanilly @pequodprincessa @aoi-targaryen @danzer8705

[newtonsheffield]

HI I've been moving so I've been behind on your fic and Tumblr (and I'm working hard to catch up!) but i just read the last chapter of TFF and it was so good!! Anthony's memories of Daphne's wedding and her cottage are so cute and his panic when he woke up just broke me!! The last like "he could breathe again" tears.

I think at this point, and it’s part of his base character in my opinion, but Anthony’s a very proud man. So of course he panics when he wakes up back in England and one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen has to look after him. He hates the idea that Anyone would need to look after him.

He doesn’t want Daphne to see him, and only allows it after Simon storms into his room and demands that his wife be admitted the next morning. He doesn’t want his mother or the little ones to come. And even after it becomes obvious that he’ll regain the use of his legs, he hates that he can’t walk properly. Hates that the doctor said his leg was shattered in four different places and it might never heal properly. Hates it.

But Kate doesn’t turn away. Doesn’t flinch even for a second. It doesn’t bother her that he might always need a cane to walk. In fact, when he finally relents and stops using the hospital cane and has Daphne purchase him one from the village, Kate sighs.

“That’s very gentlemanly.” She chuckles at his gold tipped cane, the handle engraved.

“Do you this so?”

“Yes, very handsome war hero. All you need is a little monocle and a top hat and you’ll look like a proper gentleman as well.”

And he doesn’t mind so much, suddenly, That Captain Thomas Dorset can walk more than fifteen steps without getting puffed. In fact, Anthony lets his cane stamp on Dorset’s boots as he walks towards Kate.

“Sorry, Dorset, I’m a little new at this.”

And he could have sworn he saw Kate shake her head at him.

[1016anon]

Title: No Repeats or Hesitations Author: 1016anon Fandom: Bridgerton Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sharma, Benedict Bridgerton/Henry Granville Summary: The world is ending and Kate isn't here.

Trigger warnings: disordered eating. Content warnings: panic attacks, obsessive tendencies

A/N - I hate Violet, what else is new. Yes, I'm pairing Benedict with Henry. I haven't read any of the Bridgerton books. If you have a problem with teh gays, you can show yourself out: any complaints about it will be deleted and user blocked.

The world is ending and Kate isn't here.

She's on the other side of the world, exploring the last and only piece of herself untouched by Anthony.

He hasn't heard from her because that's what she wants. Otherwise he'd be glued to his phone, waiting for her to reply to his texts, constantly checking to see if she's going to call. He'd have gotten into at least forty car accidents by now and he wouldn't care if his car flipped over and he was trapped, about to die, so long as she called and he heard her laugh at him for driving like a maniac.

Anthony's vaguely aware that a good person would wish her well and want her to find herself. A healthy person with a sense of self would agree that her journey is important, essential, the first step to healing and becoming an individual with her own identity.

The thing is-- Anthony doesn't know what any of that shit means. She doesn't need to find herself; she never needed to search because he's here, not in India. Wishing for Kate to succeed in her expedition is like wishing for her to excavate a desiccated skeleton. Anthony wakes up almost every night in a cold sweat, heart beating like the timpani in Thus Spake Zarathustra without any of the triumph.

Whenever he woke like this, or she woke like this, they'd go to the rink and skate; nothing elaborate, just stroking around the rink together, going through basic edgework drills they did as kids, doing their forwards and backwards crossovers as one body, so close together it was considered-- by others-- not only dangerous but indecent.

Here, skating together in the middle of the night, they were alone without all eyes watching. They were themselves without apology.

Now she wasn't here and Anthony couldn't bear to go to the rink, so he went running instead.

He ran for hours.

It didn't feel like hours-- in fact, he didn't feel time pass at all. He got runner's high and stayed there until he practically collapsed.

Until he did collapse.

Because he was becoming that desiccated skeleton.

He didn't do it on purpose; there was no conscious intent behind his actions. It's just that he was never hungry and when he did eat, it all tasted too bland, too sweet, too rich, too salty, had the texture of sand, felt like eating cardboard, smelled like dog food. It was difficult to chew and swallow, let alone keep any of it down. Of course he hydrated-- water was one of the few things he enjoyed.

Protein shakes were too thick, smoothies were never smooth-- they always ended up in clumps. Energy drinks tasted like sugar and artificial coloring.

Anthony ran, and ran, and ran, and became wiry, and ate when he felt like it, and had panic attacks. He couldn't sleep, he had nightmares, everything during the day was too sharp and exposed.

He ran, and ran, and ran, and became skeletal, and ate almost nothing, and developed insomnia. He began fixating on certain things.

Like his phone.

He knew his phone was in his pocket, or in his bag, or in the other room. But he always had to check. Violet would drag him to the rink, convinced somehow she could persuade him to find another partner because he was supposed to retire having won gold at the Olympics-- Anthony had to leave his phone on the bench while he skated with girls who didn't match the rhythm of those midnights around the rink when he had Kate wholly in his arms and her hair in a thick braid. She had a way of braiding it so there was always with a divot perfect for him to catch her scent.

The tryouts were disasters. As soon as his phone was out of sight, he felt this absolute certainty that he had to make sure his phone was still there. Anthony and the girl would skate to the far side of the rink, then immediately leave her because he had to return to see-- to know-- his phone was where he left it.

Consciously, he knew it was. Probably. It obviously didn't grow legs and walk away, but it could have fallen off the bench. Someone could have moved his bag. It might not be in his bag. He might have left it at home and never put it in his bag. He might have left it in the car. He might have lost it. Someone could have stolen it.

Just one more time-- he had to check one more time. To be sure. Consciously, yes, it was there. Most of the time. There were a few times it wasn't where he'd left it; someone helpful soul had moved it, or Violet had hidden it because she was tired of Anthony abandoning his potential partners to check on his phone. That one time he could not find it, Anthony had a full blown panic attack-- the ones where his vision narrowed until he saw spots rapidly spiraling; he hyperventilated so much, he passed out from the lack of oxygen; his chest hurt so much, it felt like a heart attack.

He was going to die, but he didn't have the capacity to care; raw, instinctual, uncontrolled panic was not the same as caring whether you lived or died. There was a finger pressed firmly on his brain's fear response as soon as the phone was out of sight.

After that panic attack, Violet had him carry it with him in his pocket. Even then, he had to take it out of his pocket every so often to see it. He gained a reputation of being aloof, condescending, temperamental in the worst sense. A perfect technical partner, but unbearable to work with. Anthony may as well have been skating with those anthropomorphic test devices they used to gauge car safety features in simulated crashes.

He didn't need any more issues with food, but it became another thing he fixated on. Anything and everything, when he managed to eat something, had to be an even number of calories, packaged in an even number of servings, and each serving had to have an even number of calories. Even if a granola bar was 100 calories and contained four servings, each serving had 25 calories and was therefore inedible.

Violet was exasperated, but catered to his needs. Anthony was her fractious, perfect, racecourse winning stallion into whom she's poured all her lost figure skating dreams. It had taken over two decades to get him to this point. He was going to win that second gold medal, come hell or high water.

Between his insomnia, disordered eating, emotionally draining tryouts and training sessions which never seemed to end--

He collapsed.

Literally.

Woke up in a hospital and informed that he was severely underweight, definitely malnourished, and the doctors were concerned. They wanted him to see a psychiatrist for his anxiety, panic attacks, insomnia; he was developing obsessive tendencies and they believed therapy would be of great help. They suggested he see a dietitian; he needed to cut back on his running and skating, do balanced, modified, less intense workouts because it was a miracle he hadn't suffered a grave injury yet. If he kept going at this pace, it was merely a matter of time.

Anthony didn't care.

None of it mattered. Not without Kate.

Doing those things wouldn't bring her back; what did it matter whether he injured himself if she wasn't there?

He didn't say as much-- Anthony wouldn't have known how to say any of it. It's just how he felt.

She wouldn't even let him drive her to the airport-- for good reason. He would have begged her not to go, and she would have capitulated.

Besides, Violet was more than concerned enough for them both.

The doctors were speaking to Violet over him (literally: he was lying on the hospital bed, Violet on one side and the team of doctors on the other) when Anthony went into another panic attack when he realized he didn't have his phone.

The situation was worse. It dawned on him that he'd collapsed on his midnight run and--

The monitors he was hooked to started beeping at an alarming clip, heartrate jumping and rising continuously. People, faces, were asking him something, maybe, their mouths were moving but Anthony couldn't hear anything anything.

He didn't know where his phone was.

He didn't know where it was, where he'd last seen it; he needed to find his phone; it could have been dropped; it had probably run out of battery; they must have thrown it away because he woke up in a hospital gown; it might be in the ambulance; it might have been run over by a car; his running gear nowhere to be seen. Anthony was filled with fear fueled energy as he tried to tear all the tubes off or out of his body.

Orderlies came running. Anthony was unusually strong but more than that, he was unusually wily, body trained in all kinds of twists and turns. It took a team of six to hold him down as the doctors sedated.

He was discharged later that day, Violet carrying a stack of referrals for counselors and psychiatrists, specialists for this and that.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't work. Anthony wasn't willing to put in the effort to help himself. In order to achieve the timeline of recovery Violet had set out, it required Anthony to actively participate and want to work through his issues.

He might have been able to hit her benchmarks and reach those lofty mental health goals if he'd been given years. Violet gave him a few months.

Anthony was hospitalized twice more before Violet called Benedict and asked for his help.

--

India was lovely.

It was beyond lovely, it was beautiful.

It was more than beautiful, it was Kate's only hope to build her identity.

There were so many stories about people discovering who they were by traveling abroad, reconnecting with the culture of their parents, having all sorts of epiphanies as they rode the train from one end of a country to another. Thoughts about how ephemeral life is; how precious the time on earth; what's really important; what do they really love and what do they really want to do with their lives.

Kate felt anxious when she left her skates behind, but told herself it was for the best.

The first week in India, she was fine. She called Mary and Edwina every day; she explored; she did not think of Anthony or ice or skates or how the anxiety in her gnawed a larger hole every day.

But it was best to go cold turkey, she was convinced. She just needed to get through this detoxing period.

All of that went to hell when she went to visit Appa's family.

Because that's all they wanted to talk about: ice dancing. Her Olympic medals. How proud they were.

Of course they showed her around; any normal human being who achieved something as momentous as medaling in two Olympics would be happy to speak of it, proud of their accomplishments. A normal human being would (likely) understand that the joy of their relatives was not a subliminal message that ice dancing was the only thing she could do, the only thing she was worth, that even in India ice dancing and Anthony would always stalk her with menace.

They had been disappointed to learn she had not brought her skates; she hadn't thought she would be skating. The rental ones at the local rink were not Olympic quality and she didn't want to let her relatives down-- especially when they had helped so much when Appa became ill.

Kate spent her money (which she'd earned through her many sponsorships) on a new pair of skates, then spent an entire day at the ice rink teaching her cousins and aunties and uncles how to skate. She ended the visit by doing part of her Olympic short program step sequence and a bunch of twizzles, always reaching for Anthony and finding no one there.

Her family was so impressed. And it felt good to have so many people proud of her achievements; it felt terrible when they asked about Anthony. Skate practice. What was the Olympic village like? How many hours a day did she practice?

The number of hours per day, days per week, weeks per year where used to admonish her younger cousins to be more like her: hardworking, disciplined, determined. With that attitude, they too would go far in life, just like their two-time Olympian Kate.

Her father would be so proud. Her mother would be so proud, they were certain. She looked so much like her mother; she had her father's laugh; the entire family was so proud. Some of the cousins asked why Anthony hadn't come-- they wished he was there so she could show them her really cool lifts.

It sucked that she didn't get gold, they said. Her routine was beautiful and definitely amazing, very smooth and classic. But the other one was exciting-- next time, at the next Olympics, maybe she and Anthony could do something exciting.

Were they really retiring? They were so young! Surely they had at least another Olympics in them. Another chance to get that gold! Did she have any pictures of the medals? Were they really not made of pure gold? How heavy were they? Come to think of it, she was actually a three time Olympic medalist, wasn't she? She and Anthony had participated in the team event-- it was too bad they didn't get gold, but they could get two gold medals at the next Olympics.

Kate smiled during her entire visit with her family while something in her broke inside.

Before she left, her family went so far as to rent out the rink and hold a big party for her, inviting all her father and mother's friends, relatives-- people who she didn't know but were excited to meet her, excited to skate with a three time Olympic medalist. People who asked her the same questions as her family did:

Was she going to go to the next Olympics? She was still young, she couldn't let the last Olympics discourage her. It only meant there was room to improve-- there was always room to improve. Where was Anthony? Waiting for her at home to practice skating again? They looked so good together on the ice, when were they getting married? He had to come to India and receive their blessings before he married her. They had to make sure he was good enough for her.

The children wanted to see her medals, which she hadn't brought with her. Their parents used her as an example, again: see how far hard work can take you? All the way to the Olympics! Everything was possible if they put their mind to it. If they thought something was too difficult, all they had to do was think of Auntie Kate.

And this time, throughout the party, she performed segments from all of her Olympic routines, to thunderous applause and wide smiles. Surely, surely her mother and father were so proud of her. They were certainly proud of her. She might be skating for another country, but Kate was inspiring a whole generation of girls in India to learn to skate.

When she was about to leave for the next leg of her trip, she tried to leave the skates with them.

She couldn't take them with her on the plane; she didn't bring a suitcase to check her baggage.

They'd ship it to her, they'd said. These could be her new lucky skates-- the ones she used for the next Olympics. Anthony would be there to keep them safe for her-- they'd even included a note and a gift for him.

Kate cried and hugged them, touched by their thoughtfulness and heartbroken by their expectations, their hopes, their joy.

She cried on the train all the way to her next destination. She couldn't come out of her room; all she did was sleep, take a few bites to eat, and stare into nothing.

Because Anthony was right.

There was nothing left to salvage.

Kate was Anthony, as her own being.

--

She took the next flight out.

--

Henry was the one who signed for the package. He and Ben were staying in Anthony's guest room, cooking all sorts of delicious things to coax him to eat, doing modified workouts with him, never speaking of skating.

He signed for the package; thankfully Anthony wasn't home. He still had Ben follow him upstairs to discuss it quietly.

Should they give it to him? But the handwriting wasn't Kate's. What if it was a box of Kate's things, a final farewell? That would send him spiraling even further, and he was only just beginning to recover. They decided to hide it, for now, and give it to him when he was in a better place mentally.

--

The next flight happened to be delayed, then they had to all go on another plane after having waited for three hours, unfortunately there were two connections, the next nonstop flight was completely booked, there was another flight with only one connection that would leave tomorrow morning--

Therefore, thanks to the caprices of traveling during Mercury retrograde, she finally got out of the taxi at four am. Kate was exhausted out of her mind, automatically opened the door, left her suitcase, coat, shoes, purse, everything downstairs because she couldn't be bothered to carry it up.

She stripped down, put on one of his clean boxers and an oversized t-shirt he got her as a gag gift, and climbed into bed.

Anthony had always been a light sleeper. Kate had long mastered the art of climbing into bed without waking Anthony.

He reached for her in his sleep; held and tangled legs unconsciously, out of habit. She vaguely registered that she could feel his ribs and that he had apparently picked up the habit of sleeping naked, but between one thought and the next, she fell asleep.

--

Kate was in his arms, sleeping as though she'd never left.

Only she had left; he could tell because her scent was different, her hair was longer; the shadows under her eyes were more prominent.

He didn't really have any notion of what he'd say or do when they reunited. Anthony rather assumed it would happen at the arrivals gate in an airport, rather than her having teleported from India. Not that he was complaining-- a plane, a train, a boat, a fucking wormhole in the spacetime continuum-- as long as she was here, he didn't care.

Benedict and Henry weren't used to waking up at 4am to go to practice. Kate's circadian rhythms must be off, that she was still asleep.

Like a completely reasonable person, Anthony stared at her for two hours.

That was it.

Stared.

Held her, obviously, but that was a foregone conclusion.

During those two hours, he probably could have thought of something reasonable to say.

You're back was a strong contender.

I missed you was a solid follow-up.

Never leave me again sounded pretty good.

He could probably tack on a please to that last one.

How was India was most definitely not in the running at all. If she wanted to tell him, he would listen. But right now, all he wanted to do lie there, staring at her like a cat trying to remind its owner it needed to be fed.

You're beautiful was something they said a lot in movies, he probably couldn't go wrong with that.

Hello was an oldie but a goodie.

I'm so glad you're home was an I statement telling her how he felt; his therapist said those were good.

But no, Anthony did not think of anything reasonable to say, since that presupposed he was a reasonable person.

When Kate opened her eyes, she stared back at him.

Neither said a word.

For probably a solid ten minutes.

Then, she yawned and it was apparently this which spurred Anthony to say:

"Marry me."

"Okay."

She didn't even hesitate.

Most important order of business settled, Anthony nestled her into his body like he had when he'd rescued her. He brought the duvet over their heads and promptly fell back asleep to the even cadence of her breaths.

[sxthedrxma]

inspired  by  : kim possible

Added inspo! Katara (Avatar: The Last Airbender) Enola Holmes, Asuna (Sword Art Online)  Anthony Lockwood (Lockwood & Co.) more coming soon… 

Kimberly Ann Possible (Abigail Cowen)

5/4/2002. Taurus. 

She/Her

Bisexual 

Lawful good 

Gryffindor 

past !!

Kimberly Ann Possible never thought a summer gig babysitting would lead her into the world of moonlight crime fighting. 

At first, she thought it was a joke. The emails labeled "Help Wanted" asking for assistance with all sorts of thefts and major crimes. 

And so it began. Cheerleader and student by day, superhero by night.

These supervillians were wacky, always stealing the strangest things and going by goofy nicknames. 

The Big Case, as it would become known to Kim and Ron, was a tricky one. Connecting the dots on a series of faulty projects lead them to the desk of one Dr. Drew Drakken. 

They foiled his plans, sending him off to jail in handcuffs, but the screams of rage haunted Kim for years. 

"I'll be back Kim Possible! You'll be sorry when I get my hands on you!" 

Needless to say, KP spent the rest of high school looking over her shoulder for any glimpse of Drakken or his associates. 

Graduation was not a happy affair for her, because with it, came the release date of Dr. Drakken. 

Enrolling in college, Kim realized that she needed to seriously decide what she was doing with her future. 

You can't put moonlighting vigilante on your tax return! 

So that's where college came in, and everything was going smooth until the morning she woke up in Evermore. 

present !!

~ Waking up in Evermore was a shake-up that Kim never expected. 

~ Thank goodness Ron and Wade and even Monique were there to hang on to. 

~ While she misses her family, it feels good to be independent for the first time in her life. No more Kimmie cub, no more Cheer Captain, just Ms. Kim Possible, Detective. 

~ So here she is, investigating the hits on her new website, making new friends, and keeping her eyes peeled for Dr. Drakken. 

future !!

So what now? 

1. Get back to Middleton and make sure her family is safe. 

2. Get the full grasp on running this private investigation biz so she can kick it off back home. 

3. Get kissed, fall in love? There are so many interesting (and attractive) folks around Evermore… 

taken connections

Daphne Blake (jeepersdcph)

wanted connections

Ron Stoppable - bestie, sidekick, the  peanut butter to Kim’s jelly. 

Rival - think Bonnie. Someone who has a similar skill set to Kim’s and they are constantly at odds and at each other’s throats.

Enemy - Without Dr. Drakken around, Kim thought she wouldn’t get another arch nemesis, but it’s bound to happen anyway. 

Fling/Crush - Kim is a flirt, even if she pretends she isn’t. Finally free from her parent’s ever watchful eyes, maybe it’s time to branch out and give a few things a try! 

[crimsonblackrose]

.

KENNY

Also this is the same series that Demetri ran up to get the new issue of and gave Miguel for his hospital stay.

his knight is so cute.

He has 23 gems and 284,400 gold

He build himself a castle. Is it supposed to be like minecraft?

He's up early, playing before school, but he set an alarm for 7:30.

Alright what set designer designed his room

First glance, oh man what a cute room. Second glance, what the heck, what kid needs 5 of every color gel pen? Now if they were slightly different or like copic/markers I'd buy it. But those are gel pens.

Aww he's wearing Dungeon Lord merch. Also breakfast of strawberry poptarts.

Mom made candy filled rice krispy treats

How can you not love this kid? Eating breakfast of poptarts, enjoying his music and waiting for the bus.

Aww the bus scared him and he lost the rest of his poptart. Also all the kids hanging out of the window laughing at him, rude. How dare you.

Anthony, don't be a dick. Also why are you riding the bus? Surely a parent or your sister can drive you.

WHY DOES THE BUS DRIVER NOT DO OR SAY ANYTHING?

Johnny out here trying to be helpful and also handy, not realizing he just tanked a big Miyagi do lesson. Daniel if you told him he might not try and surprise y'all with a gift. Also note he is wearing goggles, the guy knows some safety protocol. Also, see the other Miyagi car back there?

Johnny sometimes find hornet's nest for them to kick?!?! 🤣🤣🤣🤣

"I know you don't want to join Miyagi-do but at least you have to respect it."

Johnny probably didn't know you were planning to use the deck as a lesson, and he got there early to take care of it so you guys could use it. Like it came off as him trying to help.

"Well, respect is a two way street." What's this? Johnny sticking up for himself a little? "You respect my style of karate?" Oof Daniel's silence on that is deafening. But you know what, they're talking and listening. This is actually a very important conversation. "You gotta understand, man. I was taught that karate is for defense only. It's always going to be difficult to respect Cobra Kai." Johnny: "You mean eagle fang". What Johnny is really asking is if you respect him. "Some kids need a little aggression."

Lol, Johnny spitting in his hand and holding it out and Daniel staring at it and saying "No, don't need to shake on it". I do love them learning each others styles.

Amanda showing up at Tory's work is...a choice. And not a good one. Like I get she's trying to take care of the Tory/Sam fighting but Tory's literally supporting her whole family on her paychecks and this is not the time or place for this especially because Amanda is an adult.

Tory getting fired was no on Amanda's list of expected outcomes, but she should've known better to try to have this conversation with a teen at work.

"I tried calling your parents but no returned call, big surprise." Yeah maybe that should've been a wake up call of something is wrong there. Aka her mom literally can't call back.

Anthony's friend's last name is Thompson and the other they call slade.

They have uniform gym clothes and they're playing basketball.

Anthony calls Kenny a ballerina.

Kenny scores a point. Kenny also blocks Anthony's shot and the ball slams right back into his face.

Anthony's friend calls him LaPusso. Anthony's also been lying to say he knows karate but it's too powerful and would cause brain damage so he doesn't use it.

Kenny apologies, but Anthony is still pissed and Lia is the one who calms him down. Calls Anthony "Ant" and then compliments Kenny's shirt.

Johnny proving he knows his shit with painting.

This is how they spend a week day. The kids are in school. Daniel's sitting in a chair drinking beer watching Johnny paint. Something, he didn't do to anyone else and Mr. Miyagi never did.

Daniel's drinking blue moons

Says the guy who at restaurants has oranges in his beer.

See? Daniel you just gotta show him how badass you can be. All he's seen is the breathing techniques. He never got to see you break the ice at the valley fest. You gotta show him. And also keep him from drinking the beer. 🤣

All you gotta do is remind him that Mr. Miyagi was a badass and that you can be too and Johnny puts the beer down and goes straight back to work.

Kreese instantly knowing something is wrong and stopping her to ask if somethings wrong with her mom.

If it'd been anyone other than Robby that she'd jumped I'm pretty sure he would've let her use them as a punching bag. I'm also pretty sure that if Robby had seen what Kreese delightfully watched with Hawk and Brucks he wouldn't have ever stayed.

Anthony catfishing Kenny.

The only clue you get for this catfishing is that Lia walked away before Kenny says his name. She doesn't know his name. So she'd never know that he's Kennythejet99 That was Anthony guessing and getting it right.

Daniel lecturing while Johnny's training. 🤣 He's been dying to info dump all this on one person let alone to do this to Johnny.

Daniel, why is Johnny soaking wet standing in the koi pond doing all these moves? Like he didn't have to be on the balance wheel today.

I think Daniel just enjoyed watching him fall in. 🤣

High outside block against an ax kick. Johnny proving his random karate knowledge.

Daniel you knock it but you need a little bit of Johnny's karate too. And yes it's new, but you don't have to jab at Eagle fang every time.

You would think with all the hours Anthony has put in on this catfishing he would've realized he likes Kenny and not continued to bully him.

Kenny how many drinks do you have at your desk?

Dinner of pizza bagels, I think that's an Aha (maybe the blueberry pomegranate flavor?) Mt. Dew, other flavors of mt. dew, and his mom's rice krispy treats.

What else does Kenny do for fun? He draws anime, listens to music and cosplays some Dungeon Lord characters.

Anthony, have you and your friends literally been catfishing Kenny for hours? Building shit? Like...that's some dedicated and boring bullying just to get to this point.

Kenny's favorite character is Dr. Scribblebottoms. That's the character Kenny had from his home screen. And here anthony is proving he's a nerd and knows the game. He wears a lapcoat, is like a big eared chipmunk and mixes health potions.

Anthony is not the main evil mastermind here, Thompson is the one who recommends he lies to Kenny to meet him at Balboa park with a bunch of other fans tomorrow night.

There's a little bit of Anthony second guessing himself and how this is wrong. But he's caving to the peer pressure from the kids who are his 'friends' but actually bully him too.

One of the kid's is named Marcus.

Amanda out shopping and needing more: Klare Melk Truffle Gouda. Which sounds...awful. (I do not like truffle)

The guy who helps her is named Drew.

Kreese telling Amanda about everything Tory is going through was necessary. And an interesting choice. But I think it was for the best although the threat at the end might not have been necessary.

Drew returning happy to have fund her fancy truffle cheese.

It is a good reminder, to remind Amanda that not all kids are as lucky as hers.

Kreese's actual delight at the apple he bites into being sweet is kinda funny.

Daniel showing up at Johnny's door for training.

Johnny blindfolded Daniel and Daniel didn't complain by the sounds of it until Johnny whipped the blindfold off (which has an eagle on it) at the Webber Industrial factory.

Johnny's sleeveless shirt returned, along with Daniel in a sleeveless shirt.

The shoveling is the point Mr. every chore is a lesson

lol "Don't question me Newark."

They both use a very similar style I just realized. Which is exercises. Daniel's Miyagi-do does chores which teach movement and make your body remember things. But essentially it's training the body through repeated movements.

Johnny's also doing that here. He's focusing on building muscles, specifically I believe Daniel's upper arm strength via the shoveling, climbing up the chain link and the push ups on his fists.

ohhh Johnny got a new baseball shooter thing

Daniel I'd like you to notice that you are wearing some protective gear and you're blocking or striking with your arms which is what all your exercises were having you build up.

It's a bit different, but there's some core similarities. We just generally don't think of chores as exercise.

Proud of Daniel for getting up so high.

I'd also like to point out that Johnny is cheering Daniel on through this whole process and urging him forward, which Daniel didn't quite do, just sort of talked about Mr. Miyagi.

It's a lot of "you got this. Focus. Fight" "You can do it. That's it! Yeah!" And Daniel actually gets into it. I don't think he's ever had a guy in his corner hype him up like this. Which I think is one of the reasons the kids like him. Johnny pushes them, but cheers them on, doesn't let them quit, and if the fail supports them. He's literally clapping for Daniel.

Though Johnny literally made Daniel. But he's so fucking proud of Daniel and Daniel seems pretty proud of himself by the end. Like I don't think he gets a lot of opportunities to be a bad ass or feel like one and he should get those opportunities because he is.

Look at Kenny's precious cosplay. I can't. I'm not ready for Anthony and his friends or for this to get worse.

Zach is another one of the kids.

Kenny accidentally breaks Anthony's phone, but again, the Anthony is filming him and making fun of him.

The broke ruined his costume, and now he's hiding in a dumpster scared to death and shaking. 😭😭😭😭

I like that Johnny took Daniel to a hockey game. Training isn't over, but he does try to include field trips into his lessons, but also, they get to just hang out, which I think they also both want. Daniel even knows his hockey stuff.

Johnny is kicking the hornets nest to line Daniel up for the fight. Hears what Daniel says, yells it, gets the guy extra pissed because the ref actually follows through.

They're at the Winnetka Ice Center. They've pissed off the Tujunga Terrors. Johnny literally pushing for a fight. 🤣

The way Johnny just disappears in between shots after the hockey guys show up, and how it literally happens unnoticed.

He didn't bail, he just is showing he learned Mr. Miyagi's no be there rule. Also they then make jokes about his wife and he decides, to strike first and it's amazing. Literally fought 5 or more hockey players on his own.

And I love how Johnny returns, full of compliments and with a pretzel. 🤣 and the way Johnny shows he learned Mr. Miyagi's no be there.

Omg Anoush. I guess the Dayona reps are coming and Amanda is like no, keep them away.

Poor Anoush, he heards Shit from amanda and I'm sure fifty things went through his head. Shit? Why are we saying shit? What's happening? Snakes? Johnny? Some other karate pissed person? Tom Cole?

Nope it's Tory, pissed that Amanda brought her groceries.

The way Anoush is like damn it, not another karate situation and walks away.

Anoush: Hey should I start wearing protective gear to work.

Very valid and fair question Anoush.

Anthony and co why are you throwing milk at Kenny? Not cool.

Kenny don't worry, Shawn's going to introduce you to your fairy god-brother, he's going to turn you into a karate guy with a flick of a wand like cinderella or something: Robby.

I just realized there's like no miyagi-do/eagle fang teen drama in this. It's just Robby and Tory but for Tory's story with Amanda, and then the starting chapter of the tween drama. And of course Daniel and Johnny's two days of being bros.

[hannahsmusings]

Renee

*I couldn’t deny that I felt a sense of guilt as I walked away from Anthony, that sad and lost look on his face was flashing in my mind, so used to guiding him through everything and explaining things to him, but he needed to figure this one out on his own, I wasn’t here to be his source of knowledge today, I just wanted to have fun and let loose and hopefully wake up in a bed that isn’t mine, Anthony could wait for another time* *I smile at Connor as he asks to make me a drink, handing him my cup as I watch him, leaning against the counter where the liquor was, shaking my head when he asks who Ant was* no, definitely not an ex. Just a drunken friend. Don’t worry about him, he’s harmless. *I knew how it looked, how Anthony swooped in and stole me away so easily, the testosterone and masculinity war had already began and I wanted to put an end to it, not wanting either of them to do anything stupid over me* I’m just here to have fun and meet new people… you look like you’d be a fun new person. *I smile up at him, my eyes crinkling and bright as I looked up at him through my lashes, reaching out and taking the drink from him when he offers it to me, purposefully letting my fingers brush against his before bringing the cup to my lips and taking a sip* wow, that is strong. *I giggle, throwing my head back with a wide smile before taking another sip*

_______________________________________

*I was not myself in the game of beer pong, looking around every so often to catch sight of you or that lanky nobody that was with you but when I couldn’t see either of you I began fearing the worst, what if you’d both left together? What if you were back at his? What if he’d spiked you?* *i felt sick to my stomach, the growing anxiety just making me drink more and more until I was far drunker than most, slurring a little* -Anthony

*cocks a brow with a smile as you reassure me he wasn’t an ex, thinking he was a bit possessive for a friend but glad I’d known you were available and he wasn’t interested, grinning a little* Oh well that is good news for me, must be my lucky night. *playfully smirks, seeing you were eager as well so I was happy to lay it on a little thick, flirting was easy when it was someone as gorgeous as you* *smiles a little as you say you were hear to have fun and meet new people, chuckling and nodding* Oh babe you have no idea how fun I can be. *winks as I hand you the cup, grinning as you say it was strong and shrugging playfully as I clink my cup against yours* You complaining? *teases and grins before you shake your head, letting my gaze roam over your face and obviously over your body, stepping a little closer* -Connor

[multi-fandom-imagine]

fluffy anthony drabble of him taking care of the reader when they get a little drunk? i love ur writing sm ahhh

A/n: Thank you!! I love knowing that people like my writing. Also I would love Anthony to take care of me while I’m drunk.

He could hear your giggle across the room, he was not to worried since it was Colin you were dancing with, he watched his brother give you a spin though you nearly stumbled out of his younger brothers arms. Okay maybe we should be worried, he did not want you to break an ankle. Finishing his drink he slipped be twin the throngs of people, his throat clearing out. A large smile slipping on your face as you nearly stumbled into his chest.

“Anthony!” Your face looked flush, your eyes glassy. He mentally cursed at whoever was feeding you alcohol. Shaking his head he gave his brother a small nod on thanks as he wrapped his arms around your waist tugging you closer to his side as another giggle left your lips. “Where are we gooing.” Your words were slightly slurred.

“Just stepping outside for some air love, you look rather warm.”Anthony gave you a smile though he was worried you might pass out before he would reach the swing.

“Tch you’re so sweet Anthony..that’s why I love you. And why I married you” You gave him a dreamy smile, your hands reaching up to grasp his cheek doing your best to kiss him, you lips brushing the edge of his. Shaking his head, Anthony chuckled watching. He’s learned not to care what people might think of him now. Not when he had you supporting him, his family.

“Ah is that the only reason.” Anthony teased guiding you towards the door, the man was practically carrying you now though he did not mind. You meant the world to him, he would do anything for you.

Shaking your head you stopped walking as you hands cupping his cheeks, Anthony needing to bend down to do so thanks to your short stature, amusement dancing in his eyes. “No! you also love your family…Hm you’re such a good brother…though the sex is was really nailed it for me…you really know how to make a girl cu-.”

“And this is our cue to head home.” Anthony felt his own cheeks grow warm, he’d rather not have people gossiping about his sex life. Blinking he glanced down seeing your head resting against his chest, a small snore escaping your lips. Sighing he shook his head smiling, you looked rather cute like this. Easily lifting you up, he stepped out side enjoying the cold breath on his skin. A soft sigh leaving your lips as you nuzzled into him more.

It did not take long to get you home, though he did make sure to be careful to remove your dress with minor help from when ever you would wake up. Setting a class of water near the bedside table for you, he then slipped into the bed then tugged you close. His fingers running down your back gently ignoring the chill in the air due to the open window but you deserved it, you were still warm. Pressing a kiss to your head he gave you one last smile before closing his eyes.

“I love you.”

[alyswritings]

Duel

Request: omg ok I had this idea for Anthony's daughter. I was rewatching s1 and came to the duel scene where Anthony says to Benedict before like I will either die or have to flee the country. I was thinking could you maybe write a pic where its Anthony saying goodbye to his daughter and its just sad and she is confused and also Anthony having a talk with Benedict or mentioning it when they have a talk before the duel to take care of his daughter? and when he comes back its just cute and fluffy?

Anthony Bridgerton x daughter!reader

Summary: Anthony has to tell his daughter goodbye for if things go wrong in his duel with the Duke of Hastings.

Warnings: duel mentions?

a/n: thank you so much for the request! I loved this idea! It's not the longest, but I hope you all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

Anthony dragged Benedict into his study, shutting the door behind them, not allowing Daphne in. Anthony informed Benedict of his duel against the Duke of Hastings.

"I will need you to stand as my second." Anthony tells his younger brother as he opens the case holding his pistol.

"What if you get yourself killed?" Benedict questions.

"Then the title and estates will pass to you." Anthony states.

"And if you kill Hastings?" Benedict inquires.

"Then I shall have to leave the country and you will be head of the family in every way that matters." Anthony answers.

"What about Y/N?" Benedict asks.

"She will go into your custody." Anthony informs.

- - -

Anthony makes his way into Y/N's room after discussing the duel with his brothers. He walks closer to her bed. He watches the young girl sleep, her breathing going at a steady pace.

Anthony smiles softly as he watches her, knowing this will be the last time he'll see her.

Anthony kneels next to the bed and gently shakes Y/N awake.

"Y/N? Y/N?" Anthony whispers, continuing to shake her shoulder. "Darling, wake up." Y/N lets out a quiet groan and she rubs her eye with her fist.

"Papa? What time is it?" Y/N asks, looking around the dark room, realizing it's still nighttime outside.

"It's late. I just needed to talk to you." Anthony says.

"About what?" Y/N asks.

"You are... the best thing that has ever happened to me. I assure you that I care for you most of all." Anthony says, brushing some of her crazed hair back.

"Okay?" Y/N says, though it sounds like a question and Anthony cups her face.

"I know it isn't said often, but I love you. Very much." Anthony tells her, feeling tears come to his eyes, but he forces them away.

"I love you, too. Papa, why are you doing this now?" Y/N asks.

"I just need you to know that I will always love you and cherish my time with you. You are the greatest blessing, my dearest." Anthony forces a sad smile at her. "And I need you to be good for Uncle Benedict and your other aunts and uncles."

"Are you going somewhere? Is something wrong?" Y/N asks, feeling even more confused than before.

"All will be well." Anthony assures her. He clears his throat so he doesn't start crying. "You should go back to sleep. It's late." He tells her.

Anthony kisses her on the forehead and lingers for a little bit before finally pulling away.

"Are you all right?" Y/N asks.

"Just fine." Anthony tells her. He tucks her back into bed, placing another kiss to her forehead and he stays with her until she falls back asleep.

Anthony watches her sleep, running his hand through her hair. Anthony knows that he has to leave. He gently kisses her temple.

"I love you." Anthony whispers to her possibly one final time. "Goodbye, dearest."

Anthony leaves, shutting the door behind him, sighing sadly to himself.

- - -

Anthony, Benedict, and the doctor are waiting as the Duke and his secondhand arrives.

"I have one last matter to discuss with you." Anthony quietly tells his brother.

"You have already provided ample instruction. I shall contact the solicitor and safeguard our sisters' dowries."

"An additional task. In the top drawer of my desk, you shall find the name of a lady. If I die, you must ensure she is provided for. Do you swear?" Anthony asks, but Benedict doesn't answer. "Benedict, do you--"

"I swear." Benedict promises.

Anthony takes out something out and holds Benedict's hand out, putting their father's watch in the younger's hand and closing it.

"Take care of Y/N. Protect her with your life." Anthony orders.

"Of course." Benedict assures. Anthony puts his free hand on the back of Benedict's neck, the two sharing a long look. "Brother--"

"That is all."

- - -

The four oldest Bridgertons returned home before anybody else had woken up, nobody else knowing about the duel.

When he knows that Y/N has probably been up for a bit, Anthony goes to her bedroom, and knocks on the open door. Y/N is sitting at the vanity and a maid is brushing through her hair.

"Papa!" Y/N cheers. She jumps off the chair and runs over to him, Anthony quickly picking her up.

"Oh, hello, my love." Anthony greets, returning her hug.

"I thought you were going somewhere." Y/N says.

"No. No whatever I said last night... it is all true. But I am staying right here with you. I assure you that." Anthony tells her.

Y/N grins and hugs him again. Anthony softly smiles, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

[abimess]

Split City, Divided Heart - Chapter 6

Mob!Wanda Maximoff x Mob!Reader

Masterlist | Get notified of my next stories

Chapter Summary: Completely surrendered to Erik's will, Wanda watches you being tortured by her own father. Upon discovering you're being accused of sins you didn't commit, the redhead has to do something about it. [Series Summary]

Warnings: +16. Violence; guns; bladed weapons; blood; death; torture; kidnapping; mentions of sex (no description); drugs; mob/mafia

Word count: 3.434 || Pronouns: she/her

Things get very... intense 👀 enjoy! and please don't hate me too much

You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)

Series Masterlist | Previews Part

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“Somebody messes with me, I’m gonna mess with him.” – Al Capone

Businessman Anthony Stark arrested tonight after admitting his involvement with local mafia. Police believe to have firm leads to reach said group.

The Captain grumbles as she reads the headline for the tenth time that morning. The woman takes a deep breath, trying to remain calm. 

Everything seemed to be going wrong. The increasingly constant intrigues with the Guardians, members of the Avengers being killed, no word from you since the conversation about Lehnsherr's daughter... And now this. 

At least this she had ideas about how to solve, and now the blonde is waiting anxiously, a glass of whiskey in her hands as she tries to keep herself together. And as if listening to her thoughts, the door opens, revealing the one she had been looking forward to seeing all morning. 

"Finally." The woman says, getting up from her armchair. "Sorry, Captain." The teenager replies, smiling apologetically, before closing the door behind him. "She didn't follow the schedule you gave me so I had to wait a while."

"But did you make it?" The woman asks, impatiently, and the boy nods eagerly. "Yes, I did," he replies, rummaging through his backpack for a while, "here you go." He finally says, pulling out some polaroids from there.

Carol promptly picks them up, running her eyes over the photos of the woman, a fulfilled smile on her lips. "Perfect." The blonde says, more to herself than to Peter, her eyes still running the photographs. "Captain?" The boy's uncertain voice wakes Carol to reality, raising her eyes to him. "Who's she?" 

"No one you need to worry about." She answers simply, a gentle smile on her lips, and the boy nods, taking the hint. "Good job, kid, you can deliver them." She says, handing the pictures back to the boy, who smiles gratefully at the compliment. 

With a nod of his head in farewell, the teenager walks to the office door as Carol returns to her seat in the armchair, but then a thought crosses her mind, and she calls him again. "Parker?"

"Yes?" The boy utters as he turns around, looking at her expectantly. "Have you seen Y/n around?" The Captain asks, a mixture of curiosity and hope in her voice, but Peter just frowns, shaking his head in denial. "No, Captain."

Carol hums in acknowledgement, nodding slowly as she thinks. "You can go." She says with one last smile, to which the boy reciprocates before leaving the office for good. 

Left alone now, the Captain allows her thoughts to take over her mind, a single thought standing out.  

"Where the hell are you, Y/n?"

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Spitting out a significant amount of blood, you try to recover from yet another punch delivered to your jaw. 

The pain that spreads through your body is excruciating, leaving you disoriented. But Erik looks at you with a sickly smile, the blond man, who goes by the ridiculous codename Vision, doing the dirty work, and Wanda standing by the door, watching everything with an impassive expression. So, you decide not to let your pain show.  

"I don't understand why you just don't tell me what I want to know." The older man asks, pacing back and forth, and you take a deep breath. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Lehnsherr." You answer honestly, and receive another punch from the blond man in response.

"I'm talking about the Avengers meddling in our business and stealing our supplies." Erik strikes back, approaching the chair you have once again been tied to, and you hold his gaze without hesitation. 

"Do you really think we waste our time with that, Lehnsherr?" You ask sarcastically, forcing a laugh even though your whole body aches in the process. "If we need something, we get it our way. We don't need anything that comes from you."

"Are you sure about that?" The gray-haired man teases, risking a glance at Wanda. You clench your jaw immediately in response, and notice out of the corner of your eye the redhead shifting her weight on her feet uncomfortably. 

"A one time mistake," you say simply, ignoring the growing hurt, "and what a mistake it was." You add, looking directly at Wanda this time, and the woman immediately looks away, crossing her arms tightly against her chest.

"Someone's a little bitter." Erik teases, and you look down, averting your gaze from the Guardians in the room. Feeling victorious, Lehnsherr straightens his posture, turning away from you. "That's enough for today, who knows after a night's sleep you'll give me the answers I'm asking for." 

With that, the leader of the Guardians walks to the entrance of the cell and you take a deep breath. "Wanda, my dear, clean her wounds. We don't want an infection, do we?" You hear Erik say and resist the urge to roll your eyes. He was doing it to affect you, and you knew it. The worst part is that he was succeeding. "And you, keep an eye on our guest.”

As Erik leaves the cell, Wanda starts walking toward you, but then stops. "Untie her." She says firmly and you immediately close your eyes. It has been a while since you last heard her voice, and the sound has had more of an effect on you than you would like to admit.

"You can take care of her injuries with her tied up." Vision replies then and although you refuse to look directly at the scene, you can see out of the corner of your eyes Wanda crossing her arms. "Untie her." She repeats through clenched teeth, and the man lets out a humorless chuckle in response. "It could be dangerous, dear."

"I don't think she could do anything with the beating you gave her." The redhead promptly hits back, and you frown discreetly at the obvious signs of anger in her voice. "I won't say it again."

After a few seconds of silence, the blonde huffs and moves to untie you. Once your arms and legs are free, you bring your hands to your wrists, massaging them. As Wanda approaches you with a small bucket of water and a cloth, Vision stands at the entrance to the cell. 

You walk to the bed with difficulty, supported by Wanda's hands. The touch burns your skin, and all you want to do now is to pull her hands away from you and scream. But you are too exhausted and hurt to do either of those things, so you just sit there without showing any emotion.

The next few minutes are spent in silence, Wanda carefully cleaning your wounds and you avoiding looking at her for dear life. 

"How are you?" The redhead's uncertain question sounds out soon after, and you decide to pretend you didn't notice her hesitation. "I've been worse." You answer impassively and hear Wanda huff softly. "Look, Y/n-"

"Save it, Wanda, I don't wanna hear it." You interrupt immediately, anger growing inside you. "But you should let your daddy know I have no idea what he's talking about." You say with false humor and risk a glance at the redhead, regretting it in the same moment you saw her sadness-laden face. 

"I know you don't." She says softly, hesitating before she adds, "I trust you." The line is a mere whisper, so that only you can hear. You laugh wryly in response. 

Despite the irony, there is nothing comical about the situation in which you find yourself. But there is a huge lump in your throat right now, so laughing seems a better option than crying. 

"Good to know one of us is trustworthy." You retort bitterly, looking away once again. Wanda swallows dryly, trying to stand her ground even though she is on the verge of crumbling. 

"Enough talking." Vision says before Wanda can answer. Faced with your complete lack of reaction, Wanda just takes a deep breath and goes back to tending to your wounds in silence. 

When the redhead is finished, she gets up and walks to the exit without saying a single word. Now alone in the cell, you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. 

Before you can begin to enjoy the silence, Vision's voice makes itself heard once again. "She's quite a sight, isn't she?" The blond man says, making you roll your eyes. "The hottest woman I've ever seen. Just imagining her with no clothes on…"

"Shut up." You speak next, your blood beginning to boil. That day couldn't get any worse. "What?" Vision says next, looking at you with a look of debauchery through the cell bars. "Don't you like to hear the things I would do to her? How I would fuc-"

"Shut up!" you repeat, shouting this time, as you walk with quick strides to where he is, the pain completely dulled by hatred. You grip the iron bars tightly, your knuckles turning white from the strength.

"Look at you," the man says with a grin, his face mere inches from yours as he revels in your obvious fury, "still think she's yours. Pathetic. She never was, and she never wi-" 

Vision's words are cut off as you pull him by his shirt. Being taken aback by the sudden movement, the man slams his face hard against the metal bars. The blond man mutters curses as he takes a few steps backwards with his hands on his face.

"You son of a bitch." He says as he notices the blood on his hands that has dripped from his nose. You just hold his gaze, a small smirk at the corner of your mouth, and the man's expression stiffens in anger. "The beating wasn't enough for you, huh?" he says through gritted teeth, unlocking the cell. "Let's see if one more will do the trick."

As he enters the cell, you swallow dryly. Added to you being seriously injured, the man is much bigger and stronger than you. But you would not go down without a fight. So when he approaches you, you raise your fists.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

Wanda had never felt so powerless in her entire life. Still, she had never felt so guilty. 

As soon as she left the cell the night before, the redhead went straight to her room, emptying the entire contents of her stomach as her insides turned violently in guilt and pain. 

When there was nothing left to put out, the woman broke down in sobs, tears burning her skin as the images of you in that chair burned her mind. 

But now Wanda was sitting on her bed. In the same position she had been when she first sat there. Motionless. Unaware of everything around her, the redhead barely noticed the knocks on her door. And when she does, she does nothing about it. 

The door opens next, revealing Pietro on the other side. Wanda merely looks at him, and the blond man flashes her a small, empathetic smile. "Hi, sister," he greets softly, closing the door behind him, "how are you-"

"Don't ask me that." Wanda interrupts, her voice shaky and the lump in her throat making it hard to breathe. Pietro is silent then, and sits down next to her on the bed. Out of the corner of her eyes, the redhead notices her brother watching her, but doesn't have the strength to raise her gaze. 

"You can talk to me, Wanda." The man says eventually, moving closer and holding his sister's hand in his. The redhead looks at their intertwined fingers, and smiles minimally at the action, even if the comfort brought by it is almost non-existent. "I thought you knew that. You could've told me-"

"Told you what, Pietro?" Wanda interrupts, suddenly releasing her hand from his. "That I fell in love with an Avenger? You would've taken that so well." The redhead says with bitter sarcasm, and the blonde clenches his jaw.

"I would've tried to understand you." He says, but Wanda laughs through her nose in disbelief. "You're my little sister, Wands, I would never judge you." The older Maximoff assures, but seeing no sign of belief in his sister, he jokes, "but I probably would've told you to find someone better."

Wanda forces a weak laugh in response, her vision blurring intensely soon after. "I'd never find someone better." She says with her voice breaking, the lump in her throat becoming increasingly unbearable. 

"It's true then," Pietro says eventually, and Wanda raises her eyes to him, "you and her." He explains, and Wanda flashes him a tiny smile. "It is... And it's also true that I ruined her life." The redhead comments bitterly, the tears finally falling, "She trusted me, and I stabbed her in the back."

The redhead's brain fills her mind with all the worst possible insults, about how she didn't try hard enough, about how she could have stopped all this from happening. But the truth is that this is not how things work. 

The only contact Wanda had with you was in the apartment in which she and Pietro grew up and which was now your and her spot, her oasis. Outside that place, she had no idea how to find you, how to get in touch with you. 

So there she waited, agonizing days and nights waiting for you to knock on the door but you never did. Just as she was about to give up and look for you on your side of town, even knowing all the risks that entailed, knocks on the door finally came. 

They weren't yours though, and the redhead's heart shattered into a million pieces at the sight of Vision entering, showing up there on her father's orders to wait for you to come by. There she realized that it was too late. 

Wanda could have told you to leave when you arrived later that night, told you to run and not look back. But she knew that the moment she did that, Vision would go not only for you but for her too, both of you would be killed in that same place. 

At least if she followed the plan she would have time, she would have a guarantee to keep you alive while she thought of a way to free you. At least that was what she had thought of as the best way out of that situation. 

But to see you in that condition, being beaten and tortured... It was as if every organ in her body contracted and tore itself into a million painful pieces. It was as if she had died all the same.

"I wish there was something I could do to help you, sestra." Her brother says truthfully, waking her up from her thoughts, and Wanda casts him a small, grateful smile. "There's nothing you can do, Piet." She assures, and the other nods slowly. 

"I just... I just need some fresh air." Wanda says, standing up and wiping the tears on her cheeks. "I'll go with you." Pietro then says, following her to the door. "There's no need, brother, thanks."

"I insist." The blond says, and Wanda turns to face him, her eyes narrowed. "What's going on?" she questions, and the man puts his hands in his pockets awkwardly. "Papa asked me to keep an eye on you."

"Of course he did." The redhead replies impatiently, feeling increasingly suffocated. "I trust you, though," Pietro hastens to say, "I meant that." Wanda stares at her brother for a few seconds but, finding nothing but honesty in his expression, she huffs. "Fine."

"Where are we going?" Pietro asks, following his sister out of the room, and Wanda shrugs. "I don't know, I just need to leave this place." She answers, walking toward the entrance of the hiding place. Then an idea crosses her mind, and she changes her route. 

"But first, I need to talk to Shuri."

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

"Uh-oh, if the Maximoff twins are together, there's trouble coming." The girl says as soon as she sees the two entering the armaments room. "I need your help." Wanda says next, Pietro right behind her closing the door, and Shuri chuckles. "I knew it," she states, nodding, "what do you need?"

And then Wanda tells her everything. About you, about her father finding out, about him suspecting you of the stolen supplies, and about how deeply she trusts you. All the while, she tries to keep her voice steady, to keep the tears away. But the lump in her throat is too big to stay hidden for long. The other two in the room notice, obviously, but decide not to comment on it. 

"The girl you're hooking up with is an Avenger?!" Shuri asks in astonishment when Wanda finally finishes speaking and the redhead lets out an incredulous giggle. "Is that really all you paid attention to?"

"No, you're right, sorry. Stolen supplies." The girl says, shaking her head. "What do you want from me?" She asks then, and it is Pietro who answers. "Do you have any suspects? Someone you don't trust?"

"I don't think so." Shuri answers after thinking for a brief moment, her eyebrows frowning as she does. "I have a few." Wanda replies, nearly annoyed, and Pietro laughs through his nose by her side. "That's because you don't trust anyone."

"Right now I only trust three people, and one of them needs me." Wanda replies promptly, looking at the two in the room. "And I need your help to solve this." The redhead says, sounding as firm as she can, but the pleading in her voice is evident.

"You can count on me." Shuri says then, a sincere smile on her lips, and Pietro nods. "On me too." The man confirms and Wanda smiles, standing up next. "Thanks, guys." She says honestly, and the two smile in response. 

"I have to go now, if I stay here another second I'll freak out." The redhead tells, getting up from the stool she was sitting on, and Pietro does the same. After saying goodbye to Shuri, the two Maximoffs leave the armory. 

Reaching the communal room of the hideout, Wanda clenches her jaw. "What's Vision doing here?" She asks and, noticing the bruises and cuts on the man's face, frowns. "And what happened to him?"

"I have no idea," Pietro replies, following his sister's gaze with his own, "I woke up and went straight to your room." He lets her know and Wanda looks at him in confusion. Woke up? How long has it been since last night? Did she really not sleep at all? It wouldn't be surprising.

"Wanda." She hears her name called before she can ask any of those questions and the redhead sighs angrily. Today would be the day she would add another murder to her list of committed crimes.

"What is it, Raven?" She asks, irritation rising exponentially. "I brought breakfast to your pet Avenger earlier. She looked quite a mess, if you ask me." The blonde informs, a smile grown as apprehension takes over Wanda's features. 

"But don't worry, I took good care of her. And I gotta admit, Wanda, now I see why you're so fond of her." The blonde adds as she notices the other's countenance change, a taunting smirk on her lips. "What's going on underneath that shirt is... something else."

Without a second thought, Wanda holds Raven's hair, pushing her head hard against the nearby pool table. The noise of the impact is loud and echoes through the decommissioned subway station, followed by several surprised gasps from the surrounding Guardians.

"Wanda!" Pietro shouts in astonishment, pulling his sister away before Wanda could ruin Raven's face any further, which was now covered in blood.

"I'll kill that bitch any day now!" The redhead says, her face hardened by anger. Pietro, who was not trusting his sister's common sense one bit, continues dragging her towards the exit of the hideout. 

"You can't attack her every time she annoys you, you know?" he reasons, but Wanda can barely hear him, her heart pounding furiously in her ears. "I'm going to anyway." She mumbles through clenched teeth, making her brother let out a low chuckle. 

"Come on now, let's get out of here." He says when the two are already out of the decommissioned subway station and Wanda huffs heavily. Trying with all her might to forget her tsunami of problems, the redhead follows her brother to his car.

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Things are not looking good for our dear reader, uh? What do you think it's going to happen next? Thoughts and comments are always appreciated!

Chapter 7