#amelia half gifts

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Raiders Of The Lost Island Consignment Shop - Part 130

PART ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY ONE TO FOLLOW!

[reiderwriter]

hi i love your writing

could you do something with reid loving that reader is pregnant. fluff or smut or both

A/N Hello! Thanks for the request! Dad!Spencer is the cutest thing on the planet so this is some unapologetic fluff. And now I have baby fever.

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, idiots in love. Loosely based on Haley and Hotch's conversation in 1x1. Very fluffy and probably very cheesy and sentimental too... Sorry, you give me girl dad Spencer and suddenly there isn't an impure thought in my head, I just want to lovingly stare at him like I'm the dead wife in an action movie montage.

My requests are open, check out my masterlist for more 🌸

“Okay, what about Amelia?”

“No, Amelia Dyer, Victorian serial killer. She killed multiple infants over a thirty-year period.”

“Okay, okay, how about, Myra?”

“Myra Hindley, she and her partner Ian Brady abducted and killed five children and teens in the early sixties.”

“God, not that then. There can’t be a psychopathic murderer called Belle, right?”

“You’re making this too easy for me, y’know. Belle Gunness, Hell’s Belle, she’s one of the most prolific female serial killers of all time, even 100 years after her supposed death. It’s fascinating, you know, people think that she actually faked her death - when the doctor who performed the postmortem testified, he noted that the cadaver was about five inches shorter and about fifty pounds lighter than Gunness supposedly was….” You raise a single eyebrow at your wonderful husband, and he immediately shuts up.

“I’m rambling aren’t I?” He smiled down at you as you sat curled up as much as you could in your favorite spot on the couch, the cosiest part of your shared apartment. You smiled back up at him as he leaned down for a kiss and you gladly craned your neck up in response, meeting his lips for a sweet moment.

“Hotch was right you know,” you joked when the two of you parted. “All of the best baby names have been taken by serial killers.”

“Yeah, you’d think with the ratio of female to male serial killers, a girl would be easier to name.” He leans down to kiss you again before falling into a crouch next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and placing his hand on your stomach.

“How big did you say our little girl is now?”

“Y/N, you asked me that half an hour ago. I know pregnancy messes with your brain a bit, but if you’re that bad we’re going to have to get you back to Dr Patel and see if you’re doing okay.” He was joking of course, but you showed him your little pout anyway, knowing that he loved seeing the silly expression on your face.

“Humor me, Doctor.” He strokes your stomach and moves away, but not too far away, taking up right next to you on the couch, and pulling your legs over his lap.

“At five months, she’s roughly 10 inches long with a weight of about 0.5-1 pound. But that ‘How Big is My Baby’ book would say that she’s roughly one banana in length.” You giggled up at him and he grabbed your hand and just held it, content to have you in his arms in any way, big or small.

“I can’t believe it’s been five months already,” you giggle as he presses another kiss to your hand.

“I get it. It doesn’t feel quite real yet to me, either. I thought for so long that fatherhood just wasn’t in my future, but you’re the gift that keeps on giving I guess. I don't know what I did to deserve you.” Even if the words weren’t so sweet, with all of the hormones, you would’ve started crying at anything. Or at least that’s what you’re going to tell him when he sees the small tears threatening to drop into enormous loving sobs.

“Spencer Reid, I am not a gift. I am simply the woman with the correct combination of sense and foolish luck that got to marry you.” He’d done this before, and you were used to his small habit of self-deprecating talk, but after a year of marriage and three years of dating before that, you’d managed to work him down to the occasional comment.

“Don’t try to argue about this, I’m definitely the one benefitting the most from the situation right now,” he joked with you, and you could see the genuine adoration shining from behind his eyes. It was a little spark that not many got to see, a glimpse of true happiness in someone usually so reserved.

“Spencer, you’ve given me foot rubs everyday this week, you’ve read more pregnancy and parenting books than every OBGYN and midwife in the area combined, and you’ve somehow attended more of my clinical check-ups than me, and I’m the one whose pregnant.”

“And you’re growing our child inside of you, which is itself more impressive than anything I could ever do with a book and some modern acts of chivalry.”

“Yeah, tell your boss that. I think the only thing keeping Emily from pulling her hair out over your constant absences is that she thinks she’s competing for the title of godmother. She thinks Penelope and JJ are trying to corrupt me with parenting advice and all those baby clothes Pen keeps bringing over.”

“She’s going to be crushed when she remembers we’re not religious, right?”

“Devastated,” the two of you shared a laugh on the couch, and it quickly devolved into a giggle fit after Spencer leaned over and tickled your side. You jolted away from his touch, but he was on you again, attacking your sides with small caresses, and you were gasping for breath between laughs.

“Spence stop- ahh!” Your squeals stopped as you cried out in shock. It was small but you felt something tap against your stomach. Spencer stopped immediately upon seeing your expression change, and a serious look settled on him as he assessed you for any damage.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you in pain anywhere, is the baby okay?” He shot out the questions rapidly, one after the other, barely leaving space to catch his own breath from the laughter of earlier.

It happened again and you put a hand to your stomach, finally realising what’s going on.

“I think I just felt her kick. Spencer, I think I just felt the baby kick.” You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face, as much as you couldn’t help the tear that dropped from your eye as your hand rested against your belly again, scared to move for fear that the baby wouldn’t communicate with you again.

“What? Now? Can I- Can I try and feel it, too?” His hands hesitated at first but when you enthusiastically nodded and used your other hand to put him close to yours, you could feel his eagerness to feel the small kicks of your daughter as well.

Almost as if she was waiting for him, as soon as his hand was in the right position, your little girl kicked again, almost as if screaming “I’m here mommy and daddy,” for the two of you to hear.

“I think she’s trying to tell us not to have fun without her,” Reid whispered in your ear, kissing your tear streaked cheek, and using his free hand to rub them away from the other side of your face.

“I am so thankful everyday for this gift you have given me. And for the record, the gift isn’t the baby. The gift is the overwhelming happiness you bring to my life, and the beauty you make me see in this world. The fact that you’re going to be the mother of my child gives me the confidence to get up and go to work every morning because I know that there is joy and there is kindness and there are beautiful people in this world, and you are one, and she will be, too.”

His attempts to dry your tears are now completely vanquished as you let your emotions run wild, but you almost laugh when you realise that his eyes are just as glassy as yours, and you both sit there, overwhelmed by the pure, unadulterated joy that a small kick from a child who has yet to be given a name has bought you.

[burr-ell]

cool vex'ahlia facts

general:

-regularly talks to and gathers information from relevant npcs

-is constantly on the lookout for traps or enemies whenever the party is traveling, and routinely guides them particularly when they're in her favored terrains

-regularly casts pass without a trace on the party to make stealth challenges trivial

-makes sure that the staff at greyskull keep are well-paid and frequently gives them bonuses and raises (to the point that even jarrett once told her that her generosity was respected but unnecessary)

specific:

-buys everyone winter clothes to keep them warm in vasselheim

-makes a shot to get them out of a trap in vasselheim with a roll of 35

-keeps the group grounded and balanced in whitestone, keeping them from going to either keyleth's noble or scanlan's violent extreme

-goes out of her way to research the raven queen to help vax feel better when she's the one who died

-comes up with the trench trap that takes out members of the goliath herd so the rest of the party can get into westruun

-releases grog from the raven's slumber necklace at just the right moment for him to deliver the killing blow against kevdak, saving all of their lives, and rolls a NAT TWENTY to intimidate the herd into bending the knee

-gives up 500 gold for a resurrection ritual for a child who was killed as collateral damage

-works out strategies with zanror for how to fight umbrasyl

-does almost 100 points of damage by herself on the first attack round against umbrasyl

-firmly says that most of umbrasyl’s hoard should go to the people of westruun and actively prevents grog and scanlan from taking more

-tells amelia about reginald's death and supports grog's gift of 400 gold to her

-comes up with a plan to get them across the gilded run to get to the shademurk bog

-gives pike and scanlan the broom so they won't get stuck in the boggy terrain

-leads negotiations with tooma and the other dragonborn to form an alliance against vorugal, and graciously apologizes when it turns out VM made a grievous and insulting mistake

-suggests pitting yenk the goristro against vorugal so they can more effectively take out a dragon and get a vestige in one fell swoop

-lands the killing blow on vorugal

-ensures that they don’t take too much from vorugal's hoard and asks tooma for permission first

-spends 15,000 gold to free two aasimar boys from slavery in the city of brass

-does almost 100 points of damage by herself in one round again, this time against thordak

-destroys thordak's soul gem, reducing his power significantly

-puts her mind and soul at risk to learn more information about opash and what raishan was trying to do on the island

-picks a lock in a goddess's library that was meant to be nearly impossible

-gives scanlan vital aid in his challenge with ioun

-indignantly stands up for scanlan against a dockmaster's prejudice

-persuades a man out of kowtowing to vecna

-comes up with a plan to get inside the earth titan's body even though she's scared half to death of what's to come

-lands the killing blow on anna ripley, delilah briarwood, and sylas briarwood, effectively completing the list that percy could not

-only worships gods with big dicks

i'll have to amend that one name, though, just to be fair. it's lady vex'ahlia, baroness of the first house of whitestone, grand mistress of the grey hunt, coinmistress of the council of tal'dorei, and leader of vox machina

[missmielyhoran]

Oreos and Pickles (Sad Ending)

in which you spent 2 years with Harry and a grocery store trip makes you realize it was all secondary...

[Warning- Just pure angst, fluff if you like close your eyes ig, pregnancy cravings, complicated feelings and a very awful grocery store trip, alcohol, drunk driving, Harry]

Masterlist // Part 1

*****

A single moment can change many things.

But not the feelings you have for someone and a simple grocery store trip made him realize that.

He loved the way dress flowed when you walked and how it showed just the tiniest bump only he could notice cause that's all he wanted to do.

But he hated how his hands weren't in his and how far you were walking. At the same time, a part of him was itching to run back in and talk to her, ask her how she was doing, how her work was going, and everything he could think of.

Was it wrong? Very much, but he doesn't know what to do.

He opened the door to the passenger seat, and you slid inside, saying a small thank you. He walked around and slid into the driver's side. When he looked up, he saw something he never wanted.

There she was, crying in the driver's seat of her directly in front of him. Their eyes met, and god, he shouldn't want to run to comfort her, especially with his pregnant girlfriend sitting just beside him.

"I'm going to Amelia's." Your voice brought him out of trance as he turned to look at you.

You were so different from her not only feature wise but also emotionally while she was this emotionally sensitive person. You, on the other hand, would not shed a tear even in the saddest of situations. He couldn't even think of a time he saw you cry.

"Niall and her are out of town I think" He replied.

He saw your face scrunch up in annoyance, "Just drop me off at Cam's house" you said, turning your face away from him with pure anger.

"Stress is bad for baby" He said, reaching for your bump but then retrieving back as you were very much not like that right now.

"Yeah I fucking bet" You muttered under your breath.

Harry just drove to your sister's house in silence. He was in a hurry but in a hurry for what? he didn't know, or maybe he did, but it was just not time his heart had accepted it.

As they reached the house, he saw your sister out collecting her mail. She waved at both of them, but when she saw your face, her smile fell, and so did her hand.

You got out of the car without so much so of a bye or when you will return, and Harry didn't know why he didn't care, you were mother of his child shouldn't he?

He drove off the curb and started driving towards his house. His mind was jumbled all with the thoughts. It was weird to just see her face he tried so hard not to even think about her. He threw out her pictures, her gifts, every piece of her existence, and yet she came back somehow.

He felt guilty and betrayed, betrayed by his own conscious and heart.

He took out a bottle of whiskey as soon as he got into the house. He drank half the bottle in one go feeling the burn in his throat and his eyes watering.

Heaving his threw the rest filled bottle on the floor, scattering the pieces of glass all around. He looked around, and his life looked like a mess. The living room was filled with boxes, your new clothes, and baby stuff he kept buying impulsively. All somehow felt like a mess.

The mess that looked like home in the morning.

In anger, he took his car keys and made a beeline to his car. He didn't care about the glass, the boxes, or the fact he was very much drunk.

He got into the car and started driving to the place he knew like his hand.

He drove and drove till the familiar white house building came into the view. His hands were shaking, and his body was shaking, to be honest, but he knew he had to do this.

He put his car in the park and walked to the porch, knocking on her door like he used to, and he felt like that again, like he was again where he was a few years ago.

Then similar eyes opened the gate, a very smaller version of eyes he fell in love with.

"How many times I have told you to not open the gate until I say so!" She came running from behind and stood freeze looking at him as was he.

He looked between the child and her and couldn't comprehend what it was.

"Harry, what are you-" She asked, leaving the words hanging in the air, but she also knew what he was here for.

"I wanted to talk to you" He said hesitantly, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

They walked through her house to her backyard, where she shut the glass door so no one could listen in to their conversation.

"Who was-" He left the question hanging in the air, confused as the woman who left him for not wanting a family was here playing house with someone else.

"That's my daughter, Cassie" She said with a soft smile, "She was a surprise totally not expecting, thought it was flu or something turns out I was pregnant" She said with a chuckle.

"So you left me when I asked you to marry me and start a family, and now here you are, playing house, huh?" Harry said angirly, "I cried, begged you to stay, and you left saying I deserved someone who could give me what I wanted! You could've given me what I wanted. You have what I wanted. You just didn't want to!" He said, slamming his fist on the picnic table.

"Calm your voice Harry my daughter is playing inside, and I don't want her to get scared or know what is going on here" She said strictly. Harry sighed and slid down back in his chair.

"I could've never given you what you wanted. A white-picked fence was not something I dreamed of, nor would I ever. Her father and I got divorced just in 6 months of marriage cause I couldn't do it" She said, "A marriage, a child and a career, I couldn't do it all at once, he understood that so we just co-parent now" She explained, "You wanted a wife Harry and you deserved one, and if so long into our relationship I couldn't agree to it then it was a waste of our time, we had different goals of relationship and at some point, we had to go onto our separate paths."

He stood there listening, feeling baffled on how she could just break his heart all over again without making him hate her.

"But you crying in the store, we can still have everything" He said, feeling tears breaming in his eyes.

"Harry what-no!" She yelled, "Oh my god" She panicked.

"Harry, I was crying cause I was happy. Yes, a lot of feelings came over me seeing you all of a sudden, but the main thing I felt was happiness. Happiness that finally you had everything you wanted, a beautiful girlfriend, a child on the way, and the way she looked at you- she is utterly in love with you" She explained softly, her eyes were filled with concern and contentment.

It was pathetic honestly how he realized what he had done. He had everything in the palm of his hand, and he threw it away on his own.

"It's not too late Harry go get her" She said softly, feeling his pain even after years of separation.

But it just might have been.

Cause as he was walking to his car practicing how he will kneel and ask for your forgiveness. The ring he had for you will be given to you today no matter what he will fix no matter what, but then he got a call from your sister.

You were in the hospital.

Turns out stress was bad for the baby.

So he got into the car with tear filled eyes to drive to the hospital he saw the oreos and pickles they bought sitting in the back seat but they were of no use.

Just like his apology, just like his pain, his realization, his love, the unmade crib sitting in the living room or the half painted nursery nothing was of use.

All cause of his stupidness and impulsiveness.

He lost everything chasing his past while having everything in present.

Now, all he has is regret.

*****

I hope you like this it's kind of rusty I know but I will try to post more from now.

Please Like, Comment and Reblog it helps a lot.

Taglist- @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @lomlhstyles @vmpellie @sunshinemoonsposts @jayde515 @yeehawbrothers @sleutherclaw @ikea2-0 @thechaoticjoy @astridcommings @grapejuicebluesrry @gxbiqs @gem1712

Love you guys a lot♡ please tell me how you liked it here♡

[igetthedisneybox]

So.

Kids always get up to wild shit. Especially when their little.

Everyone's parent has a story of how their kid nearly gave them a heart attack.

What stories do the madrigals have regarding your next gen fic?

Oh god, so many.

Like, soooo many.

I decided to do just the biggest heart-attack inducing event for each kid.

Miranda: She's well-behaved, so the biggest moment was when she first got her gift at age eight and almost floated off into the stratosphere XD.

Amelia: At fifteen, she snuck out with her girlfriend and they got caught kissing....rather passionately.

Sofía: Got angsty one time at age ten and decided that she wanted to live in the walls like her father did. She was missing for half a day, and everyone was panicking.

Princesa: At the ripe old age of six, she was experimenting with her gift and almost caused a rock slide.

Fuega: She was twelve, and got so angry at one of the townspeople that instead of bursting into flames, she just straight up passed out for a minute.

Leta: That time she tried to climb the walls of the Encanto and fell like fifty feet, breaking her arm. I'd say she was around sixteen or so.

Andrés: When he first got his gift and just straight up vanished from sight lol.

Carlos: When he duplicated his birthday cake one too many times and made himself sick. He was five, this was the night he got his gift.

Avila: When she was nine, she wanted to see if she could freeze herself in time. Turns out she can, but when she's frozen, she can't unfreeze herself until it wears off. The family was actually very worried that she'd be stuck like that forever.

Amada: Got angry when she was eleven, and went to go sulk in the town's canal. Turns out, her water powers also let her breathe underwater, which no one knew.

Tomás: Tried to hover a giant wagon with his powers, and almost dropped it on his head. He was around eight or so.

Rómulo: When he was seven, he used his super speed to jump out of one of Mariana's portals, and ended up running himself straight into the ground. He was very injured. Did that stop him from doing it again? No.

Zoe: Straight up wandered away from her family while in town when she was five. They spent hours looking for her, only to discover that she'd found a tree to take a nap under.

Hugo: He befriended a big-ass spider, and let it crawl around on his head for a few months, until it died. He was nine.

José: Swindled a few men from the city for around 100 Colombian Pesos. They were not happy, and were actually probably gonna hurt José if they didn't get their money back. Luckily the family were able to yeet them out of the Encanto before anything got bad. José was nine, and very very very grounded.

Héctor: When he was five, he turned into an elephant to show off, and passed out after three seconds of transformation.

Óscar: Soon after he got his gift, he had a huge meltdown because he was seeing ghosts and things that other people couldn't see. The family was worried he was seriously hurt or something.

Beatriz: Was trying so hard to keep a surprise birthday party a secret, she projectile vomited all over the kitchen table. Poor kid was six, and so embarassased.

Lidia: Had a temper tantrum at age five, and made a scribble monster that wrecked havoc on the town until Pepa made it rain.

[tgmsunmontue]

Online & Anonymous 16/16

Hangster. Explicit. Years before they meet in person Bradley and Jake strike up a friends-with-benefits relationship online. And then something more like an actual relationship.

>>Bradley chatting (bold and italics)

>>Jake chatting (italics)

2005/2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 2015 2016 2017 2018 2019 2019-redux

Many thanks AGAIN to @celandinebergerac, @phisworld14, @redfurrycat and @nevergettingoverit for being my sounding boards as I hashed this out. First chapter was 2nd April, and four months later it's all done. THANK YOU.

EPILOGUE

                The last year has been good. Bits of it absolutely great and he no longer keeps second guessing or waiting for something terrible or bad to happen. Maybe he’s finally used up his allotted lifetime amount of bad things. He and Mav have mended their relationship, definitely helped along by Penny, Amelia and Jake, carrying conversation and easing lingering awkwardness when it happens. Then Mav had asked him to be his best man at his wedding to Penny and that had been a whole other experience. It had been a December wedding, their leave period finally not getting sabotaged by new assignments or natural disasters. Instead they’d found themselves working together at the Hard Deck for two weeks while Mav and Penny had a honeymoon and then spending their first Christmas together.

                His morning coffee cup now has a photo of his original morning coffee cup on it. Everyone had thought it was a gag gift at Christmas, but it hadn’t been. A picture of a cup just says I’m thinking of you, Wish you were here, I’m sorry, I miss you. It covers a multitude of things and it’s one of his most prized possessions. Jake’s family has become his family; Mav, Penny and Amelia are an extension of that for Jake as well. Amelia has helped stop Jake almost hero-worshipping Mav at least, calling Mav out on his stupid shit and then looking to Jake for back-up, clearly not expecting it from Bradley. Despite the fact that Bradley agrees with her all of the time his relationship with Mav still feels a little too fragile to withstand constant poking and prodding like what Amelia seems to take joy in.

                Amelia and Susie get on almost too well, something that terrifies Jake. Amelia had said she’d always wanted a sister; Bradley had been dumb enough to ask if she’d ever wanted a brother. She’d just rolled her eyes, asked why she’d ever want one of those and he’d shut his mouth, ignored the silent laughing coming from Mav’s corner of the living room. Why indeed. His life feels full to brimming, and he cannot wait to get back to them now, but especially Jake.

                Although he’s a little confused and more disappointed that Jake isn’t there to meet him when he gets off his flight, but he’d told Bradley he’d be waiting for him at home. He’s tired, has missed him and cannot wait to crawl into bed with him. He doesn’t care if it’s for sex or sleep right now, although he does hope it’s sex and then sleep. It’s been a three-month separation, definitely not the longest they might be apart, but definitely the longest so far since they started afresh with all cards on the table and no more secrets between them. Or simply things they’ve never mentioned, like names.

                He drags himself toward Jake’s condo, his own house filled with Daggers. They’re still a squadron, however they’re often used in training exercises now and split in half as and when needed. He’s been in the middle of the Atlantic along with Phoenix and Bob, Halo and Omaha and Fritz. He knows his next deployment is with Jake and he cannot wait, and it’s not only to prove to the higher ups that their relationship isn’t of any more concern than Javy and Natasha’s, or Bob, Rueben and Fritz. Although he’s not sure if the higher ups are aware of that one or are taking a very firm head-in-sand approach because they don’t have the forms and paperwork that would encompass what they have. Not his problem he reminds himself as he turns the key and pushes the door open.

                Jake is standing there in his dress whites, looking absolutely fucking gorgeous, well rested and suddenly every nerve in his body is wide awake, sloughed off and away with the sight in front of him. They’ve talked about this, not recently, but in the last year it’s definitely been raised, usually when they were apart, but sometimes when they’ve been wearing them, Jake has given him a slow sly look. The fantasy of fucking in their dress whites, well, more Jake being fucked while wearing them. He thinks he might have swallowed his tongue, ability to talk completely gone as he takes in the sight; he’s into it more than he thought he would be, the time since he’s been with Jake definitely adding to his arousal. He’s not in his whites, definitely not his blues, just his khakis, but Jake knew that and he’s pretty sure Jake doesn’t give a fuck about what Bradley is wearing, it’s all about him.

                “Welcome home.”

                The door swings shut behind him as he steps forward and drops his duffle, the peak of Jake’s hat bumping his head and they’re kissing, hands grasping at each other with the desperation that only separation or danger brings. Holy shit it’s just as well he didn’t come and pick him up, they’d both have ended up under review and facing disciplinary action for ungentlemanly behavior. Fucking your boyfriend in public is definitely not allowed.

                “Jake…”

                “Please.”

                “Fuck. Don’t need to tell me twice.”

                His cock is already half-hard, and if he’s developing a conditioned response to seeing Jake in his whites then that’s going to be a terrible problem for future-Bradley. Then Jake drops to his knees, his mouth already pressing against the fly of his pants and Bradley groans. He takes off Jake’s hat and tosses it toward the sofa, and they’re definitely going to need to pay special attention to cleaning everything later but right now there are more pressing matters at hand.

                “What do you want?”

                “Going to get you hard with my mouth, then I want you to bend me over the sofa and fuck me. Okay?”

                “Yes sir…” Bradley says with a smirk, because Jake’s acting all demanding but nothing he’s said is a hardship in any way. He is so onboard with everything, and Jake isn’t going to have to work to get him fully hard at all. “God I’ve missed you.”

                Jake’s crinkling eyes tell him he’s smiling against his cock, his fingers working the zip of Bradley’s fly down and Bradley works at his belt buckle, carefully pulling it free and undoing the button, shoving his pants and underwear down, his cock springing free and Jake simply opens his mouth and starts sucking. No tease, no finesse or any slow introduction. Not that he needs or wants it, more than okay with Jake directing the show, just runs his fingers through Jake’s hair and lets himself enjoy the hot tight suction for what it is; a means to an end that Jake has been fantasizing about for years. It’s not even a couple of minutes before Jake in rising to his feet, his hand curling around Bradley’s cock and he’s leading Bradley by his cock toward the sofa. He can’t help the little laugh, loves that they can be silly with each other like this, his awkward shuffling walk because his pants are still on, although they’re slowly falling with each step.

                He takes in the throw over the back of the sofa with a smirk, already knows it’s there to cover up stains and to stop more stains. Like they already know exactly how the height of the back of the sofa is perfect for being bent over, a happy coincidence considering Jake’s sister had bought it. Jake is reaching for something, coming back with lube but no condom. They still use them occasionally, have stashes of the latex-free type in the glove boxes of their vehicles, wallets, bathroom, bedroom… he’s probably never without one except when he’s in his flight suit now that he thinks about it. At home like this though…

                “We making a mess Jake?”

                “Yes. Yes we are. You leave those pants around your ankles. I want it hard. Want to feel it later.”

                “Yeah?” Bradley asks, and his cock jumps at the thought and Jake’s hand squeezes around him in response.

                “Yeah. Think you can manage that? Not too tired?”

                Bradley rolls his eyes, reaches to slap him on the ass over his pants but then grabs a cheek firmly, rubbing his palm in a circle and then grabbing again and pulls him in closer

                “Never too tired for you.”

                “Promise?”

                “Promise.”

                Then he’s pushing his hands under the jacket to get to Jake’s buckle, flicks it open and reaches his hand inside, runs his fingers over the hard flesh of his erection, rolling the underwear down slightly. Steps forward to capture Jake’s mouth in a filthy slide of lips, wants to get in as much kissing as he can while they’re facing each other like this, Jake pushed up against the sofa but not yet bent over it. Then Jake is spreading lube on his cock and Bradley groans, feels the head of his cock rub against the rougher fabric of Jake’s pants and god he must really not care about getting them messy. He pulls them down carefully, easing the tailored fabric over the bulge of his erection and swell of his ass cheeks. Jake rolls his hips and Bradley shifts forward, wraps his hand around Jake’s erection and his own, encourages Jake’s fingers to do the same and swallows the gasping breath made against his mouth.

                He’d prefer to be naked, to have Jake naked, but he is also all about fulfilling all of Jake’s wants and needs. Is glad Jake’s not holding back going for what he wants and knows it’s because they’ve got a decade of open and honest communication as a foundation even if their few later years of communication weren’t quite up to the same standard. He thinks they’re both there now. He runs his other hand over Jake’s ass, glad it’s bare now, runs a teasing finger between the cheeks, fully expects to feel lube but more surprised by the feel of firm silicon. A plug. He groans and pushes on it, feels Jake’s body jerk against him, his smile against his lips.

                “Oh my god Jake…”

                “Told you. Want it hard.”

                “Yeah. Okay. Fuck. Turn around.”

                He pushes Jake so he’s bracing himself on his forearms, ass sticking out, a strip of flesh framed by his jacket on his torso and covering his flank and most of his ass, the pants tight around his thighs where Jake has spread his legs to stop them from falling but also to give Bradley some room to just look. The plug is dark blue and he taps at it, wonders how long Jake’s has had it in. Waiting for him to come home.

                “Fuck.”

                He tugs on the plug, pulling it so the broadest bit is stretching Jake’s hole, then he pushes it back in, rubs his cock against the swell of Jake’s ass cheek and swallows roughly.

                “Fuck you’re gorgeous like this.”

                “Want to be gorgeous on your cock, come on…”

                He huffs in amusement but he’s achingly hard now, wants to press into the tight heat and give Jake exactly what he wants. Just because he needs to, for his own peace of mind, he drags the plug all the way out and then pushes it back in, over and over, watching with hypnotized fascination as Jake’s body opens and then closes around it, all while Jake swears at him and thrusts against nothing. He grabs the lube, uses it on the plug and spreads more on his cock, isn’t going to give Jake any warning.

                On the next pull out he presses in with his cock, feels the resistance give way to slick tight heat and he moans Jake’s name as he pushes forward, fingers digging into Jake’s ass, little circles of white looking like halos around each fingertip as he just keeps pushing and pushing. He pulls back slowly, controlled, and Jake lets out a shuddering breath that is partly his name. He presses forward again, leaning forward with his entire body so he can kiss the side of his head, whisper into his ear.

                "Going to mess you up…"

                "Please…"

                He moves firmly, not slow and soft, but it’s also not as fast as Jake likely wants, not yet. There’s a difference between hurting him and making sure he feels this later though. He curls one of his hands in Jake’s hair, the other squeezing an ass cheek possessively, Jake’s legs spread as far as they can within the confines of his pants, probably stretching the limit of the cotton holding the seams together. He knows Jake probably won’t care if the pants rip a little, not at the seams. Those can be mended.

                It’s only five or six firm slides, his pelvis pressed tight against Jake’s ass, balls catching on his bunched up pants than Jake jerks and presses back with more force, little grunting sound the tell that Bradley was waiting for. He’s glad Jake can’t see the smug grin on his face, wouldn’t at all work in his favor right now. He pulls back and snaps his hips forward, knows that this is what Jake was angling for, digs his fingers into the flesh of his ass and hips, pulls him toward him as he thrusts forward. Knows he’s likely leaving little bruising marks, that’s also part of what Jake wants.

                He lets himself lose it a little, the feeling of Jake around him and under his fingers, the sight of his cock sliding into his ass and the ass almost hidden by the crisp white fabric, doesn’t know if he’s imagining the smell of starch used to make them stiff, the sound of flesh slapping but also muffled by the fabric. His khakis are sticking but he doesn’t care, can feel his orgasm approaching in the tight twirling sensation in his gut, building heat. Sex with Jake always makes him feel so good, glad to be alive all over again and that they found each other.

                Jake is making little gasping sobs, none of the half-formed words he’s managing are coherent. He’s dropped to his chest against the back of the sofa, pressing his ass back and Bradley knows he’s close, his body taut with pressure. He's gorgeous. His. He moves faster, pace increasing as he watches and feels Jake’s body tighten, tighten, tighten. He moves a hand around to Jake’s chest, presses his fingers into the ribbons there. He pulls back and thrusts in deeper, repeating the movement, using the full range available without pulling out completely.

                “Bradley… ah…ah…"

                “Come on Jake. Make a mess.”

                He increases his pace, can see Jake’s arm jerking, meaning his hand is working his cock, pumping furiously, and then he's coming, hand still moving as he comes and Bradley doesn't stop, keeps thrusting as he watches Jake’s body jolt and twitch and then feels the sudden crest of his own orgasm wash through him and he groans loudly, presses against Jake and moves in slow grinding circles as it shudders through him. He kisses the side of Jake’s face, wraps an arm around him and he smiles, lets them have the quiet for now. Know the snark will start back soon enough, although if he’s fucked Jake well enough he might be spared a few hours or even a day.

                “You know, if this is the welcome I get every time I get back from being deployed I’m going to start looking forward to leaving you. Only so I get to come back to you.”

                “Mmm,” Jake says and Bradley grins so wide he has to smash his lips together to hold back the little bubble of laughter that wants to escape.

                “Sleepy huh?”

                “Yeah. I’ve been looking forward to that for weeks and been fantasizing about it for years.”

                “Oh… sorry I made you wait so long. You think we should invest in a set of uniforms solely for fucking around in?”

                “No. I want you to look at me and know you’ve fucked me in it.”

                Bradley groans, his groan echoed by Jake as he slowly pulls out. He steps out of his pants after toeing off his shoes, feels weird being half-dressed. Then he rubs his hands down Jake’s back and thighs, gathers him up and directs him toward the bedroom. Yeah, he’s definitely going to end up with a conditioned response to seeing Jake in his whites.

                “I might need to invest in some sewing lessons.”

                He bullies Jake into the shower with him, amused that he’s so soft and tired, kisses him and lets his hands roam everywhere under the guise of getting clean. It’s nice and reaffirming after their months apart and feels like a type of homecoming.

                “Thank you…” Jake murmurs, forehead resting against his neck and Bradley doesn’t hesitate in kissing him again.

                “Mmm, such a hardship. You really put me out having me do all that.”

                “That was so good.”

                “Come on, bed…”

                They dry off, and he’s well aware that there are pieces of various uniforms strewn through the house, but it’s a tomorrow problem. He lies down and pulls Jake into his arms, lets himself be bullied into rolling so Jake can spoon up behind him and hold him, reaches over to turn off the bedside light.

                “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you,” Jake says quietly against his neck, voice so quiet like he doesn’t want to wake him. As if he’s ever fallen asleep that quickly.

                “You literally just thanked me…” Bradley says, amusement lacing his voice because Jake gets loopy when he’s tired and he’s not the one who has been deployed.

                “Shut up. I’m being serious. I mean back in the beginning. Like when we first started chatting online. I’m thanking you for that.”

                “Oh.”

                “Yeah. You were… nice. And good. You made me feel less alone in the world. So thank you.”

                “You’re welcome,” Bradley replies quietly, because they’ve spoken about it obviously, often and it’s something that they sometimes fall back on, writing things down when they’re feeling especially vulnerable. Written words carry more meaning for them, heavier with more thought and intent. Their tempers making spoken words too harsh, spoken too quickly. They know this about each other now and it fills him with confidence that they can overcome anything and everything thrown their way.

                “You look really good in your dress whites.”

                “Mmm. So do you,” Jake says and Bradley has to grin again, because he wasn’t even wearing his whites.

                “Thought you didn’t have a uniform kink.”

                “I don’t. I have a you kink.”

                “Oh. I see. Good to know.”

                “Next time we’re both in our whites will you fuck me again?”

                He groans, yeah, definitely going to have a conditioned response.

                “You don’t want to fuck me instead?”

                “I don’t care, just… can we?”

                “Of course. You know that.”

                God, he’s never going to be able to say no to him.

                “Promise?”

                “Promise.”

THE END

[punkeropercyjackson]

Girl Percy Jackson but she's trans instead of a f*mboy copout.Her name is short for Persephone because the og gave her Metamorphose,food that's been blessed by Aphrodite to give the eater their ideal apperance and works as hrt when it comes to trans people,and she wanted to thank her.Her other nickname is Cookie.She's midsized with muscles and fat and she's afrolatina so her hair is as huge as she is and she dyes her bangs blue to hide her faded from gray to white streak to blend in in the mortal world.Her Camp Half-Blood t-shirt is a crop top and she has a pastel blue battle jacket.She's a trauma misandrist and bi but too busy healing from her trauma to want to date anybody.Luke was the first person she came out to and she eternally regrets it and he's aware she used to have crush on him in TLT so his musty ass uses it to mock her and to his advantege in fights and she kills him in TLO with Nico using his soul erasing ability on him of his own decision out of love for her as his big sister and pseudo-mom and they spent the year between BOTL and TLO bonding and reconnecting and Nico clocked her in the eating blue cake together scene because he's a trans boy and that's what broke the wall between them as his crush on her dissapeared and the bonding included her teaching how to skateboard as she got back into it as symbolizes for inner child healing.She's calico cat kin and owns a blahaj collection and she's autistic.She loves video games,everything and anything sea based,actual punk activities like underground shows/parties and doing petty crime and diy,burgers with sides of energy drinks and acting maternal to break the cycle of abuse.She's close to the Aphrodite Cabin because they helped her greatly in transitioning and Drew and her are basically soul sisters and Silena never died but does have burn scars from the acid and Beckendorf is a he/him stud and mentored Percy and calls her 'Babycakes' and DID die but Clarisse went on a quest to bring him back for Silena and HIMself as his and her girlfriend and him and Percy nicknamed eachother 'Princess' and 'Big Man' as gender validation.Annabeth and her had real relathionship development due to Percy being a girl making Annabeth not be nearly as antagonistic and they settled into sisterhood and tomboy/girly girl solidarity with exchanges of gendered 'gifts' they didn't want.Her middle name is Amelia,chosen to match Thalia and Thalia dresses like fanon Percy does but in a trans butch swag kinda way.Y'all don't do Girl Percy right,'female-coded' my ass-She's a trans girl of all time and her BDE is bigger than any version of 'Dark Percy'(and she dosen't tuck)

[justanamesstuff]

All I Need

♥ JUST MARRIED ♥

A/N: after months (sorry) i bring you THE PROPOSAL + WEDDING of these two...I hope you like it guys <333

Warnings: none, pure fluff

Word counting: 4.2 K

Blog MASTERLIST - All I Need MASTERLIST

Thinking about it…

Matty took the middle-sized box from the back of his drawer. It took a lot of old memories back. Thinking about his time before having the kids or meeting Y/n felt surreal. 

After moving a few pieces his hand landed on the even smaller box it was strategically hidden so if Y/n snooped there —not that she ever went through his stuff but just in case– she couldn’t find it. 

Matty felt a wave of sadness overtaking him, so he had to sit on his bed. His Nana was –literally– imprinted on his skin, although, he thought about her even now and then. He had been doing it a lot more since, specially Amelia, the kids started asking about his mother’s parents as well as his father’s parents. Mel was learning about families at school, and she was a very curious little girl. Matty loved to have full conversations with her and Arthur at the moment. They did talk about his Nana a lot of times.

The singer slowly opened the box, revealing before his eyes the silver band. Carefully he took it out to examinate it. She passed it down to him before getting really ill. Matty considered it a treasure. It wasn’t exactly a ring designed to propose marriage, although he wanted to give Y/n something special, something meaningful, since she was indeed the most amazing person he had ever met and also the person that gave him two amazing children. 

“Daddy?” Amelia interrupted him, showing up at the door of his room. Matty’s heart jumped, thinking –at first–she was Y/n. He closed his eyes, trying to stabilize his breathing. 

“Mel-mel?” he asked, keeping his back towards her. 

Amelia opened the door fully, staring at her dad’s form. “What do you have there? Chocolate?” she asked, excited about the idea of candy.

Matty chuckled, “No,” he turned around, still keeping the ring away from her eyes. “No chocolate, missy.” he smiled at her turning slightly. 

“What then?” 

Matty doubted about it for a minute, finally agreeing with himself to share the secret with her, “come here, baby.” he instructed, moving his hand signalling her to come closer. “Leave the door half open, please.” 

Amelia did as she was told, moving to sit beside her dad on the bed. 

“Look.” he opened his hand, showing the ring resting on his palm. Amelia looked at it and then up to his face, Matty saw the doubt in her eyes. “This was my Nana’s ring.”

“Oh!” Amelia exclaimed, opening her eyes wide. “Can I…” she started asking.

“Yes, be careful, okay?” Matty warned Mel. 

Amelia kept silence, holding the silver band between her tinny hands. Her curious eyes following the complicated patterns along it.  “What are these?” she inquired, her sight not leaving the ring. “Are flowers?”

“Yes, closer to roses but not exactly.”

“So pretty.” she exclaimed in a whisper. Mel carefully extended her hand, retuning the ring to his dad. “Can I have it?” she asked, making him chuckled.

“No.‘Cause…” Matty started slowly. “I want to give it to your mom.” he smirked, thinking about Y/n wearing it. 

“As a gift?”

“No exactly, baby.” he let his left arm engulfed her. Together they stared at the little item in front of them. “I want to ask mommy to marry me.”

“Why?” her question so genuine to her nature.

“Because I love her, and I want to spend my entire life with her.”

“Ok.”

“What? Don’t you think it is a good idea?” Amelia shrugged her arms. “Do you know that at weddings, people serve cake?”

“Chocolate cake?” Mel jumped in her place.

“We can choose chocolate cake.”

“When are you going to ask mommy then?”

“I’m not sure, baby.” 

“Matty?” Y/n called from downstairs, scaring father and child.

“Shit- You haven’t heard that!” Amelia laughed. “Don’t tell mom.” he begged, going to hide the box. “What?” he shouted louder so Y/n could hear him

“Can you tidy the kitchen as you promised?”

“Coming, my love.” he answered. “Not a word to anyone, Mel.” he took her little hand between his hands. 

Amelia made a signal sipping her mouth. 

“I love you.” Matty left a kiss on her head.

“Love you, daddy.”

***************************************

The actual proposal…

Matty was about to rip his hair off trying to think the perfect proposal for Y/n. 

Fancy dinner out? Not an option, she would leave him for that. 

Anything remotely big and scandalous? Not a chance. 

Okay, simple then, but when? Where?

He didn’t want to start asking his friends or family because they’d know what was happening, and Matty wanted to keep it a secret until he actually bent his knee. 

Matty continued debating herself in silence, waiting for Y/n to come from upstairs. It was her ‘bedtime’ turn that night.

“Matty?” Y/n snapped her fingers in front of his eyes, startling him back to the present moment.

“What?”

“What?” she asked back, placing her hands on her waist, standing in front of him. “You weren’t listening to me!”

Matty opened and closed his eyes quickly. “I’m sorry, baby.” he brushed off her hands softly, replacing her hands with his around her waist. He brought her closer, hiding his face on her belly. Y/n softened with his actions, letting her fingers comb his wild curls.

“What’s going on, huh?” she wanted to know. Y/n’s boyfriend stayed in silence. “Shit…tell me this is not a new drama.” Y/n leaned backwards, searching for his face.

“No, no…” Matty shook his head. “Nothing like that.”

“Then what?” Y/n insisted.

Matty looked up to her eyes, “Can’t tell you.” 

“Why you can’t?” she stared back, a little hurt. 

“I-”

“The band?”

“No.”

“The label.”

“No.”

“Matty, you’re scaring me.”

“‘s nothing wrong. I- Shit- I was, I’m…” he was making little sense.

“Matty, please. Something is clearly bothering you….you’ve been like this for weeks. I tried not to think too much about it, but I’m really worried. Do you want to leave me?”

“Of course not, Y/n! Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. You’re not speaking to me…and I-”

“Fuck, okay. I’ll tell you, but I need to get something really quick.”

“Are you going out?” Matty stood from the couch.

“No. Just upstairs, okay?” Matty said before pecking her lips and disappearing. 

Y/n lay down against the cushions, thinking about all the possibilities, but Matty ran back minutes after, interrupting her train of thoughts. 

“I’m back.” Matty announced, staring at her eyes closed. “Baby?”

“Yes.” Y/n turned her head slightly to look at him. 

She noticed his hands were hidden behind his back.

“Okay, this is it.” he whispered to himself. “Remember how I always tell you that since the first moment we meet I’ve been in love with you?” this time he talked to Y/n. 

“Yes?” she said, sceptical. “What have you done?” folding her arms, ready for him to say, he had broke something or let the kids do something they weren't supposed to. 

“I’ll do it the rest of my life,” he continued with his speech. “Although, I want to do it at your side. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and the kids.”

“Yes, that’s my plan too, Matty. What are you on about?” Y/n pushed her body forward, invested in the conversation. 

“Shit- This is coming all out wrong…maybe I should've written a song…”

“Matthew!” Y/n snapped him out of his spiral of anxiety.

“Right, right. Fuck.” Matty approached her, showing her his hands holding the little box.

“What do you have there?” 

Matty sank into his knees, making Y/n gasped.

“Matty?”

“Do you want to marry me, Y/n Y/l/n?” Matty inquired, opening the box.

Y/n placed her hands on top of Matty’s. 

“Yes. Of course, yes!” she answered to his question, taking the box, crying in the process. 

Together they opened the little item.

“I know it doesn’t scream engagement ring, but this was my Nana’s ring.” Matty took it out. 

“Baby…”

“I want you to have it.” Matty stated, placing the ring on her ring finger.

“Fuck, Healy.”

“Not the response I’d been picturing inside my mind but-”

“Shut up!” Y/n stopped his teasing. “I love you so much, Matthew Timothy Healy.” she said, taking his face, bringing it closer to hers.

“Now this feels like I’m in trouble.”

“Oh, you’re in so much trouble, mister.” Y/n said before kissing him. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One month after the proposal 

By that time, everyone inside their close circle was aware of the wedding happening as soon as possible. 

That specific day, Matty was in the house’s studio working, and the kids were with his brother, Louis. Grace and Y/n were looking at venues, flowers, and all kind of things for the wedding. Matty walked away from them an hour before, saying he had to work or either the boys would kick him out of the band or something dramatic. He wanted to be there for every detail and not pressure Y/n with everything, it was their wedding at the end. Y/n tried to reassure him it was okay, but it was hard to convince the stubborn singer. 

Grace and Y/n were staring directly at the screen researching about wine, when Y/n started to feel dizzy. She blamed the long hours they had been spent watching stuff in her computer. Y/n tried hard to fight it, but it didn’t go away.

“Fuck.” she closed her eyes, trying to stabilize herself.

“What?” Grace asked, worried. 

“My head is spinning.”

“Okay, that’s our cue to stop for now.”

“No, I-”

“Nah, to the couch…now!”

Y/n did as Grace told her. She didn’t spend five minutes there when a new wave of sickness surprised her. Y/n ran to the bathroom, with Grace following close behind. 

When she stopped puking, Grace stared at her eyes without saying a word but with a knowing look.

“What?” Y/n said.

“Nothing, memories.”

Y/n rested her back into the cold wall, closing her eyes she asked, “Which ones?” 

“Nothing comes to mind?” and Y/n knew what Grace was thinking. 

“Shut up, Grace. It’s impossible.”

“Yeah, you said the same last time…” Y/n’s friend exposed her. “and the time before that one.”

“No, I can’t. The wedding is a few months away.”

Matty walked inside the bathroom after hearing the loud bickering, finding them sitting there. “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking between them, focusing on Y/n’s pale face. 

“Y/n’s puking.” Grace accused her.

“Thanks a lot, Grace.”

“Are you okay, baby?” Matty sat beside his girlfriend

“Mhm, I’m afraid we have to postpone the wedding, Matty.” Y/n looked into his eyes, weakly. 

“What? Don’t you-”

She interrupted before he could think more options.“I think I’m pregnant again.”

“What?”

“Be right back, guys.” Grace exited the house with the plan of buying pregnancy tests for her friend.

“How sure are you?” Matty stoked her hair back. 

“Pretty sure now.” Y/n admitted. “My period had been missing for weeks”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Thought it was a false alarm.”

“Y/n…”

She scrunched her face, “I’m really dizzy to think about this.” Matty chuckled, touching her flat belly.

“Okay. Let’s wait for Grace then.” he said to them both, touching Y/n face, caressing her sweetly.

***********

All positive tests. Matty, Y/n and Grace stood inside the small bathroom looking at the sticks on the sink. 

“Okay, this gives us enough time to find the wine the ratty wants.” Grace said.

“Grace.” Y/n warned her.  

Meanwhile, Matty finally took in the idea of a 3rd baby. “Love…” he whispered, embracing Y/n. 

“I know.” Y/n couldn’t help to start crying. “I can’t believe it.”

“Another baby.”

“Can I be the godmother?” Grace interrupted.

“Course not.” Matty cut her, kissing Y/n shortly. 

Y/n stared instantly down at her belly when Matty placed a hand securely on her –still– flat belly. 

Another baby.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two years later…

As soon as Ruth was old enough to attend and participate in her parent's wedding, Matty and Y/n finally decided the closest date to finally marry. To say that everyone cheered more than the first time they found out speaks for itself.

The night before the big day

“I miss you.” Matty said from the other end of the line.

Y/n hold the blankets of her hotel room higher to cuddle inside. “Haven’t enjoyed your bachelors party?” she inquired, teasing him a little.

“Yes, but I was ready to get in bed with my future wife.”

“Who would’ve thought the big rock star of the century…the problematic…”

“I’m not that any more, I don’t want to either. I need you, inside our bed, in our house with the babies.”

“I do miss them so much.” Y/n admitted 

Matty protested, “No me, then?”

“Yes, I miss you a lot, handsome…but I miss my babies too.”

“I’m your first baby.”

“No, Mel is.” Matty scoffed, keeping the teasing going. 

“I can’t wait for tomorrow.” Y/n changed the direction of the conversation.

“Me too.”

“What if we go and get married right now?” Matty blurbed out the idea.

“Matty, we’ve been waiting years…it’s only a few more hours.”

“I know, I know...but-”

“Sleep, now, Healy.” Y/n instructed. “Can you keep the line going until I feel asleep?”

“Everything for you, wifey.”

“Almost.”

“I don’t need papers.” Matty remind her.

Y/n rolled her eyes, even when he couldn’t see her. “Shut up.”

“I love you.”

“I love you so much, my dear.”

Matty kept rumbling about a quick wedding, until the rhythmic breathing from Y/n side reached his ear, which made him smile a little.

Wedding day

The grooms room 

“Looking dashing as always, Archie!” Ross complimented him. 

“Thanks ‘os.” the little boy giggled due to his godfather’s words.

Matty walked out from the bathroom, asking right away, “How much longer?” to Adam.

“One hour, mate.” the guitarist said for the hundred time in only twenty minutes. 

“Fuck.” he swore and right away heard an ‘oh’ coming from his son. “Sorry! Don’t tell mom.” 

“Fuck.” Arthur repeated, making the entire room laugh.

Matty realized his mistake, adding a “Shit.”

Encouraged by the room, Archie copied again his father’s words, “Shit.”

The room bursted into a group laugh, although before Matty could protest or add another word he wasn’t supposed to say in front of the kids, his mother came through the room’s door.

“Where’s my son?” Denise asked the room.

Being the closer in distance to her, Louis pointed out to Matty’s form standing closer to a window. “Over there.” Louis

“How’s he?” 

Ross joined the conversation, “He’s very anxious.” 

“Do you know that I can still hear you?” Matty reminded them in an exasperated voice.

“What’s wrong Matty?” Denise approached him, sensing his nerves. 

Matty breathed out, “I need to see her. This is worse than being miles way from home. She’s right there.” he pointed with his hand to the other room.

“It’s just one hour.” Denise rearranged his tie, patting his chest. 

“I know but-”

“What’s an hour compared to the rest of your life, Matthew?” his mother spoke the right words. The words he needed to hear right there and then. 

“Right, right.” 

The brides room

Y/n stepped outside the separated room, walking towards her mother, Grace, Denise, and the rest of the bridesmaids. The reaction was unanimous, a general gasp travelled around the room. 

Y/n waited for someone to speak, but the room fell into an intense silence, until Mel stepped towards her mother.

“Mommy, you look really beautiful.” she said, looking up at her eyes. Y/n held the strong urge to burst into tears. 

“Thank you, my love.” 

“You look amazing, Y/n.” Grace approached her, holding Ruth in her arms. “Marry me instead?” 

Y/n rolled her eyes, breaking some tension on her body. “Shut up, Grace.”

Denise and Y/n’s mother shared a couple of tears and a few tissues before approaching the bride. 

Little bit after, the photographer urged Y/n and all women inside the room to exit the room so they can take pictures before the sun disappeared completely. 

The moment was closer and closer. 

The ceremony

Matty turned around when the melody –him and G worked for ages to marvelled it for that exact moment– reached his ears. The presents stayed sited, meanwhile Amelia showed up at the end of the long aisle holding on one hand the box with her parent’s. Amelia stood for a few seconds –waiting for the time of the song, she was supposed to start walking–, sporting a dress similar to the bridesmaids one but with a different style. She kept Ruth closer to her left side, holding her tiny hand, and on her other side Arthur fixed his eyes on her older sister, waiting for her to start the march. 

When the beat was right, Mel started making her way towards Matty and Ross, who officiated as the chief of ceremony. Ruth and Arthur tried their best to follow her. 

Matty didn’t wait a second to approached his children when they were a few meters away from him. 

“Hi, guys.” he kneeled down, forgetting the surroundings. 

A chorus of shy hellos reached Matty’s ears, making him incredible emotional. 

“Do you have something for me, mel-mel?” the singer asked, forcing Amelia to look up at him while she extended the box, nodding repeatedly. “Thank you, baby.”

“You’re welcome, daddy.” 

Matty took a look to each one of their faces, until he broke, saying, “come here.” embracing the three children into a thigh hug.

“Go with grandma, okay?” he encouraged them and they obeyed. 

After the children stood beside Denise and Susanne, Matty returned to his place on the altar, surrounded by the flowers Y/n and him picked for it. He rearranged his tie and his blazer, sensing how Ross placed a comforting hand on his shoulder while the bridesmaids and grooms men walked to their places. George and Charli threw him a knowing look and smiles, meanwhile Grace showed him her tongue in a cheeky action that made him laugh out loud. 

The music changed its tempo and Matty knew it was the time. As if time stopped, he watched Y/n walked down the aisle with her arm hocked on Adam’s bicep. She had asked him if he would do the honour since his father wasn’t there to do it, and he said yes right away. The presents stood up, wanting to look at the gorgeous bride. 

Matty realized he was crying when he heard Ruth cry. He turned a minute away from Y/n to check she was alright, which his future wife copied. The little girl distress was a reaction to see him cry. Denise made a weird sign around her face, but he understood and dried them quickly. Ruth was too young to understand those were happy tears. 

Matty stepped down the altar, coming closer to Y/n and Adam. He kept his eyes on Y/n, smiling at her, until Adam patted his back.

“Take care of her, or I’ll kick your ass. You know that we like her and the kids more than you.” Adam teased him, maintaining a sterned look on his face.

“I know, I will. I promise.”

“All the best, guys.” the guitarist said, after hugging Y/n for half a second. 

“Thanks, Adam.”

“Thanks, mate.”

Once Adam was gone, Matty took her hands on his. He sensed her body trembling. 

“You look amazing, my love.” 

“Not more than you, handsome.” 

“Shall we?”

“Please.”

*****************

The ceremony was short.  Ross started saying a few sweet words and embarrassing them both to lighten the mood. The breeze brushed against the flowers, making them dance all around them and turning the evening into a magic one.

“Who wants to start saying their vows?”

“Me!” Y/n shouted, making the crowd laugh. 

“Ladies first.”

“Only because I know they aren’t as good as yours, since you do this for a living.” Y/n admitted, reaching for the paper that Grace extended for her. “Okay, Matthew...Matty, my love.”

“Yes, dear.”

“Shut up and listen.” Matty did as he was told, holding a belly laugh, while friends and family reacted as expected. “I think it’s important that I start telling you that I love you, Matty Healy. Maybe it didn’t happen right since the very first start, but I don’t care. We don’t believe in the tales we used to read or watch when we were children about the perfect story. 

“Ours was a mess, and I’ll do it all again if this is the end. You and I together against everything, and with our babies very close to us. I love you, Matty. I love every single part of you…I want to continue until the end of our days and so beyond holding your hand, loving you daily. Even though, I hate when you wake me up every time an idea for a melody or half of a lyric pops into your curly head, I won’t change it for anything in this world. The way you are as a partner and as a father to our children is a part not everyone gets to witness, and I wish I’ll be always there to do it.” 

“Thanks for never stop fighting for us even in the hardest moments and for holding me every time that I’ve needed it. I love you, Matty.”

“Okay.” Ross interrupted before Matty could say a word or hold Y/n further than just her hand. “Your turn, mate.”

Matty dried his tears for a second time that night. “You left me speechless, baby. As always…” he talked directly into her eyes. “What I can tell you that you don’t know, Y/n? You know me better than anyone, sometimes you know me better than myself, and that’s a lot. What I can tell you that I haven’t put into the songs I write thinking about you and that are for you?” 

“You came into my life to change it completely, baby. I fell hard and bad for you…my heart didn’t stand a chance, how would it? Y/n, you’re the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me beside the guys and our kids…our babies, as you said…you gave me the honour to be their father, to grow a family. Before you, I thought I was incapable of it…and so much more. I know you don’t like to hear this, but you made me a better man and a better person. Without you, nothing has meaning, my love. Without you beside me, telling me that you love me, I don’t know how to live. So please, make me lucky for the rest of my poor existence and say yes…yes to take me as your husband, yes to love me forever, yes to the bright future we have in front of us…that’s all I need to hear, Y/n.” 

****

Ross started asking Matty, "Matthew Timothy, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live

together in matrimony, to love her, to honour her, to comfort her, and to keep her

in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." Matty stated, smiling while holding Y/n’s hands. 

The bassist turned to look at Y/n, "Y/f/n Y/s/n, do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honour him, to comfort him, and to keep

him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

Y/n said, "I do."

“Now, Matty.” Ross continued the ceremony. "Repeat after me."

"I, Matthew,”

“I, Matthew,”

“take you Y/n, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

So Matty repeated staring into Y/n eyes. They maintained the eye contact until Y/n took her turn to repeat the words Ross said. 

“Matty.” his friend interrupted, taking his attention, offering the little box Amelia brought. “Place the ring on Y/n's finger and to repeat the following, I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love." 

Matty spoke out loud for everyone to hear his words, placing the ring on Y/n fingers with all the delicacy. Ross urged Y/n to copy Matty’s actions on the other way. Y/n caressed her husband’s hand slightly. That was it. 

Ross said, "By virtue of the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." he finished turning to Matty’s face, saying,  "You may kiss the bride."

“Fucking finally!” Matty protested, embracing Y/n into a thigh hug while his lips met hers into a loving kiss that sealed the pact forever. 

[callsign-magnolia]

Last Christmas

MATURE CONTENT (18+)

Warnings: Illusions to cheating, mentions of alcohol, crying.

Summary: Your relationship with Rhett is great, until it's not. But was it truly ruined, or did everyone else's opinions influence you.

This was for @lewmagoo's Christmas celebration! I'm still trying to stay offline but I just had to post this!

Word Count: 5.3k

Masterlist

“I love you, darlin’.” Rhett whispered as he rested his forehead on mine. “I love you too, Rhett. With all of my heart.” I whispered back as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He held me close as he swayed us between the trailers. The town's annual Christmas party was a hit. It was held at the rodeo grounds, and of course, with it being Amelia County, we have an annual Christmas rodeo. Rhett had an amazing ride, taking first place for the second year in a row. As soon as he came out he scooped me up into his arms, kissing me in front of the entire crowd. It's been almost  a whole two years since we started dating, and I couldn't be happier. In high school, I never could've imagined myself with Rhett. We knew of each other but I never thought he'd be interested in me. So I was very shocked when we bumped into each other when I moved back home from college and he asked me to dance at the Pit Bar.

“You still haven't told me what you want for Christmas.” He said, leaning me against his trailer. “I told you. Same thing as last year. Just you.” I said, pulling him into another kiss. “Oh come on!” He said, squeezing my sides and making me giggle. “You forced me into telling you what I wanted, and I know you got it.” It was true, I held him by the crotch in the Abbott Family barn and threatened to not sleep with him unless he told me, and I did buy it. “So I think it's only fair if you tell me.” He said. “Rhett.” I whined and he pressed me into the trailer a little harder. “C'mon darlin. I think I know what you want.” He said and I raised a brow at him. “And what do you think that is?” I asked. “I saw you looking at that book collection on Amazon.” My eyes widened. “Well, I did love the first book.” I listened to it on my phone and I've been dying for the series since. “And I think you'd love a gift card to that lingerie store up in Casper.” I quickly nodded at him in excitement. “I knew you would.” He said, pulling me into another kiss.

Christmas came and I talked Rhett into staying the night with me on Christmas eve. We woke up bright and early to open our gifts and of course I got the book collection and the gift card. But the look on Rhett's face when he opened his gift was the best thing I could've gotten on Christmas morning. “I only asked for the bridle darlin’. You got me a saddle too? How did you hide this?” He asked. “You never set foot in the basement.” I said, giggling. “Because it's creepy.” He retorted. “But I got it because the one you have is so old and worn, and you constantly complain that it hurts your back.” He had been complaining for the last year and a half that the saddle killed his back. So I made sure that I got him a saddle to match his bridle. “I think Honey will appreciate it too.” I said and he chuckled. “You're right.” After we opened our gifts we grabbed everything we needed and made our way to his parents. Amy begged for us to be there when she woke up, so we negotiated that we'd show up before she got up. Rhett was practically vibrating in his seat, so excited to see Amy open her gifts. He loved that little girl more than anything. I think he loves her more than me someday, but I couldn't complain.

We quietly came in the door when we got there. Royal was standing in the living room sipping his coffee when we walked in and it took everything in me to not giggle at the man. Just like the rest of us he was in a red shirt and reindeer pajama pants. Amy begged us to wear matching pajamas and we all agreed, Royal a little reluctantly. “Well, you look comfy.” I told him and he grunted. I just laughed at him before walking over and pulling him into a hug, which he begrudgingly returned. Cecilia smiled at us, coming over. “Merry Christmas." She hugged us both. "Merry Christmas, Ma." Rhett responded. "Quick!" Perry said, rushing down the stairs. "She's waking up!" Royal, Cecilia, and Perry quickly sat on the couch while Rhett and I sat on the rug in front of the roaring fireplace. Soon we heard soft footsteps coming down the stairs. Amy's hair was wild and she was rubbing her eyes when she saw us. "Uncle Rhett!" She yelled before sprinting to him. As soon as she got close enough she launched herself into his arms. He squeezed her tight and she giggled. "You knew we'd be here." He said and she buried her face in his shoulder. "I was worried you wouldn't come." She said and Rhett's face fell. "Why?" He asked and she shrugged. "I told you we'd be here, and we're here aren't we?" He asked and she nodded. "Right. Now, let's open all these presents. Looks like Santa brought ya a lot." Her attention immediately shifted to all of the gifts under the tree. Soon gifts were handed out and Amy ripped into hers. She was happy with everything she got and could hardly sit still for the rest of us to open ours. Once that was done we ate breakfast before going out for a Christmas ride.

"You can use your new saddle." I said. Rhett just chuckled and shook his head. "Didn't bring it," he said. I told him to put it in the truck, but I knew he didn't. He wants to keep it pristine, but I bought it to be used. "Check the bed." I said and he sighed. "When did you sneak it in there?" He asked and I smiled at him. "When you went to the bathroom." He groaned and turned towards the truck, going to grab the new saddle and bridle. I just chuckled and got my horse ready. Soon we were ready and headed out to the South pasture. It was bitterly cold and I was in as many layers as I could move in. "You cold?" Perry asked as I walked my horse out of the barn. "Very." I muttered. But I squealed as a snowball hit my chest and exploded. "Perry!" I yelled. He just laughed as I gathered my own snowball, launching it at him. He stopped laughing as my snowball nailed him in the chin. It was my turn to laugh as he stood there with his eyes closed, wiping snow off his face. "Right. Fastpitch champion." He said and I nodded. 

“Three years in a row, Per." Rhett said, leading Honey over in her new bridle. I smiled at him as he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me in close. "That just made me love you even more." He said, giving me a soft kiss. The ride was long but I eventually warmed up. Soon everyone else went back to the house, leaving Rhett and I alone. The snow started again so we decided to go back. "We've almost been together a whole two years." He spoke up, I smiled at him and nodded. "We have.” I responded. "January 19th." I lightly bit my lip and looked at him. “You remembered?” I asked and he nodded. “How could I forget the best day of my life?" He said and I giggled. "Ma's even been asking me when I'm going to marry you." He said and I sat up a little straighter in my saddle. "Is that… Is that something you want?" I asked and we were quiet for a minute. "I do. Do you?" He straight up asked me "Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He gave me a wide smile and turned to face forwards again. “So… are you gonna ask?” I asked him and he laughed loudly. “Oh no. You’ll never see it coming.” He said with a sly grin. “Okay, just don’t try to scare me with it.” I said. “I ain’t makin’ no promises.” He replied. 

The next day it was after work and I was putting some of Rhett’s laundry away in his lone drawer he has at my house when I saw a navy blue felt box. I stared at it for a moment before setting the laundry basket down and reaching for it. I held it in my hands, debating on if I should open it or not, but eventually I did. I gasped when I saw the gold ring, sitting on the plush navy cushion. It was a pear shaped diamond on a yellow gold band. “I guess he did listen when I talked about rings.” I said to myself. My finger twitched as I considered putting it on. But my thoughts were halted by a voice. “Honey? I’m home.” Rhett’s voice echoed up the stairs and I all but tossed the ring box in the air. I juggled it before slamming it into the drawer. “Just a minute!” I called down to him before stuffing the clothes in the drawer as well before rushing downstairs. 

A week later there was the New Year’s rodeo. Amelia county has a rodeo for everything and it sure shows around the holidays. Rhett showed up a few hours before me as usual, but I always slipped back behind the trailers to see him one more time before he rides. But this time, I wish I hadn’t. I gasped as Rhett pushed the black haired girl away from him, her lips making a smacking noise as they left his. I gaped at him as his eyes met mine and a look of horror crossed his face. “Honey-” He started but I cut him off. “No-just… No.” I turned and started walking away from him. He called my name, rushing up behind me and grabbing my arm. “Do not touch me!” I said, swinging around, my hand connecting with his face. He looked at me in surprise. “Honey, please it’s not what it looks like.” I shook my head at him as the tears started falling. “No! It was!” I yelled at him. “When we first started dating, everyone told me what kind of man you are. But did I listen? No! Because I thought I knew you. I thought you would never do this to me.” I said as tears of his own fell down his cheeks. “Dammit Rhett! We were talking about getting married exactly a week ago! I can’t believe you would do this to me!” I said. “But I didn’t-” “I saw you Rhett! You can’t gaslight me!” “I’m not trying to gaslight you!” He took one step closer and I took two steps back. “We’re done, Rhett.” His shoulders shook as a sob racked his body. “Honey, please. Don’t do this. Let me explain.” He said and I shook my head. “All the explaining was done when I caught you kissing someone who isn’t me.” 

“Mom, please.” I said as she squeezed me to her. “Your daddy and I are just so glad you decided to move back home.” She said. “But I do hate that Washington didn’t work out for you.” When Rhett and I broke up, I struggled. I entered a dark place in my life and I knew I needed a change. So by Valentine’s day I had gotten myself a new job and moved to Washington State. Life was good there, but it wasn’t Amelia County so come Halloween I had made plans to move back. I got my old job at the county tag office back and my parents are letting me live with them until I find my own place again. “It’s okay, it means I don’t have to spend money to come home for Christmas in two weeks!” I said and mom nodded. “I really do appreciate you and daddy letting me sleep in my old room until I get my own place again.” I said. “Well you know, the old Wilson farm is up for sale.” My dad said. “Daddy, I don’t have the time to take care of a whole farm. Nor do I really want to.” I said as I followed him into the kitchen. “You did when you were with-” “Daddy. Please don’t say his name.” I said, taking a deep breath, fighting back tears. My heart still hasn’t healed from last year. I’ve tried focusing on myself, but it didn’t work. I couldn’t bring myself to date anyone else, or even sleep with anyone. I so badly wanted the distraction but just the thought of being with someone else had me in tears. 

“Besides, he’s probably forgotten about me anyway.” “Oh no, he has not!” Mom said, walking into the kitchen to join us. “Mama-” “Every time that boy sees your father and I he makes it a point to ask about you. How you’re doing, are you enjoying life in Washington? That boy is still smitten with you, sweetie.” I shook my head. “He wouldn’t have done what he did, if he really did love me.” My dad scoffed. “That boy is in love with you, and he will always be in love with you.” I huffed and turned to my dad. “I’m your daughter. Aren’t you supposed to hate any boy that cheats on me or hurts me in any way?” I asked. “Well yes. I did corner him right after you moved, I blamed him for it but he explained everything and I can’t be mad at the boy.” I furrowed my brows at him in confusion. “What did he say?” I asked and my dad shook his head, lifting his coffee mug to his lips. “Not my place to say.” I raised my brows at him. “Not your place to say?” I scoffed. “No, it’s not my place. When you see him, he can tell you.” I shook my head. “I’m hoping I don’t see him for a long time.” 

The next week at work it was almost dead. But at least once a day we get a busy spurt. I heard the bell above the door go off as I was helping someone and I froze as I looked up. Those crystal blue eyes met mine and I wanted to crawl under my desk and hide. I totally jinxed myself by saying ‘I hope I don’t see him for a long time.’ How could I forget that Rhett has a December birthday? I thought as I finished with the person in front of me. I was hoping someone else would get him but as my client stepped away, I realized I was the only person available. Our eyes met and I so badly wanted to get up and walk over and kiss him, but I didn’t. “I can take whoever’s next.” I said, turning to face my computer. “Hi.” He said quietly as he stepped up. “Hello Rhett.” I could be petty and ask for all of his information, but that would have him standing in front of me longer. “Just renewing your tags?” I asked and he nodded. “It’s a two- thou-” “Two-thousand six GMC Sierra.” I said, cutting him off. “You remembered?” He asked and I fought back a small smile. “I remember when you got that thing sophomore year.” I said as I put in all of the information. “I wound up taking you to school the morning after I got it because your shitty little car broke down.” I bit my lip, remembering everything. I was four miles away from home but eight miles from school and I got very lucky that Rhett had to drive down the same road as me to get to school. 

“Yeah.” I muttered as I printed off his tag renewal. “Can-can we talk?” He asked as I slid the papers to him. “No, Rhett. I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I said and his mouth hung open for a second. “O-oh. Okay. Well, have a good day, darlin’.” Before I could correct him he walked out. “I’ll be back.” I said to my coworker before walking back into the break room. I grabbed my makeup bag and keys before rushing out to my car outback. I was breathing heavy as I got in and soon the tears kicked in. I cried and cried in my car, mascara running down my face as I leaned my head on the steering wheel. But I sat up quickly when I heard an engine revving and a dark blue GMC Sierra blew behind my car and out of the parking lot. I cried more before I managed to stop. I cleaned my face off and redid my makeup before going back inside. As soon as I sat down my coworker Amanda turned to me. “Are you okay?” She asked and I took a deep breath. “I’m fine.” I said. “Okay, well that gentleman you helped came back in looking for you, but I told him you went out to your car.” She said and I nodded. “Thank you.” I responded. 

I didn’t hear from Rhett. He didn’t try to call me, come see me or anything which I was grateful for. I don’t know if I could handle it. But then came the town's annual Christmas party and rodeo. I tried to get out of it, but mama called me out on all my bullshit and practically dragged me out of the house. I pouted the entire ride to the rodeo and my parents just made fun of me the entire time. “You realize I’m not going near that gate, right?” I said as we got out of my dad’s truck. “Sure you won’t.” My dad said. “But just so you know, Rhett has had a rough season and everyone is convinced that Luke Tillerson is going to beat him out this year.” Rhett would never let Luke beat him out. But if he’s had a rough season, then could he really stop Luke? Luke has always only been just a few spots behind Rhett and Luke could never stand it. Maybe I could walk over for Rhett’s ride? He would be too focused to look for me once he’s on that bull. I followed my parents around, greeting everyone but I stopped when I heard a voice call out my name. I turned to find Amy sprinting for me. I smiled, opening my arms and squeezing her tightly when she almost knocked me over. “Wow! You got big in the last year!” I said as she looked up at me. “I was so excited when Uncle Rhett said you’re back! Will you be at house on Christmas morning again?” She asked just as Perry, Cecilia and Royal walked over. I squatted down so I was more on her level, even though she still stood over me at this point. “Not this year, sweetie.” I said and tears welled up in her eyes. “Why not? Uncle Rhett said you were home.” I nodded. “I am, but your Uncle Rhett and I, we’re not together anymore. So we won’t be spending any holidays together anymore.” I told her. “Amy, it’s okay. We can still go and see her if you want.” Perry said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Can we?” She asked and I nodded. “Whatever you want, sweetie.” I said, hugging her again. “C’mon, let’s go get some hot chocolate.” Perry said and she excitedly agreed. “Good to see you.” He said and I waved at him. 

“We’re glad you’re back.” Cecilia said, pulling me into a hug. “I’m surprised so many people are happy I’m home.” I said and she raised a brow at me. “Why wouldn’t we be?” She asked. “Well with everything that happened between Rhett and I…” I trailed off and she chuckled. “That boy still loves you, but I think that’s a conversation you wanna have with Royal. Rhett has told him more about what happened than me.” She said before someone caught her attention and she wandered off. Then my attention turned to Royal. “Hi Royal.” I said and he held an arm out, pulling me into a side hug. “Hey.” He grunted. “Daddy told me Rhett’s had a rough season.” I said and he nodded, leaning on the gate as a rider was let loose. “He has. He’s been doing good, but not as good as he has in the past.” He said and I nodded. “Do you think it’s because of me?” I asked. If Rhett’s not focused like he needs to be, he could really get hurt. “He’s been so focused on what he could do to get you back, he’s been distracted from everything in the last year.” He said. “If he wanted me back, why did he stop calling after two days?” I asked, huffing. “Because he realized you’d never take him back if he wasn’t the man you deserved.” I raised a brow at him. “He can explain it better, but I’ve never seen Rhett cry so much. He came to me two days after y’all broke up, and he asked me what I thought he needed to do to win you back.” He said, watching the riders intensely. “You know, I was in the same situation with his Ma about a year after we got together. I told him he could tell you he loved you all day long, but until he proved it to you with his actions.” He said and I nodded in agreement. “Maybe talk to him, hear him out and make your decision from there.” He suggested and I nodded. “I’ll think on it Royal.” I replied and he nodded, clapping a hand on my shoulder before starting in the direction Cecilia went. 

The next rider up was Luke Tillerson. I wanted to see the next few riders so I watched. Luke held on for a total of four seconds before he flew off, barely getting his feet under him. I watched a few more riders before it was Rhett’s turn. I fought the urge to stand up on the gate and yell as loudly as I could. But as soon as he was turned loose I couldn’t help it. “GO RHETT!” I screamed, standing on the gate. He was holding on tightly and he was laser focused and as soon as the eight second buzzer went off he let go, flying off the bull and rushing for the gate. But he skidded to a stop as the bull cut him off. “RHETT!” I yelled, catching his attention and he made a quick left turn. The bull was on his tail until someone else caught his attention and Rhett launched himself over the gate, landing on his back next to me. “Oh, shit! Rhett?” I asked, bending down next to him. “Rhett? Can you hear me?” I asked as he gasped for air. “Okay.” I said, grabbing his hand and helping him sit up. I took his hat off his head, fanning his face with it as he caught his breath. “Thanks.” He said as he could finally breathe normally. “You’re welcome.” I said as I helped him stand. I brushed some dust off of his arm and he smiled at me. “Good ride.” I said and he nodded. “Better than Tillerson’s.” I said, giggling lightly. “So you’ve heard.” He said and I nodded. “My daddy told me, but I knew you’d never let it happen.” I said as I met his eyes. 

“Yeah.” He muttered. “Listen, I know the other day you said we shouldn’t talk… but I really need to talk to you. I don’t expect you to take me back, but I can’t go on without you at least knowing the truth.” He said and I stared up at him. He held my gaze, almost searching my face for an answer. “O-okay. But after your last ride.” I said and he gave me a soft smile. “Thank you.” He said and kissing my cheek. “Gotta run.” He said before taking off for the other riders. I was a little stunned by the kiss and stood there with my mouth gaping for a moment before I came to my senses. I cleared my throat before going to take a seat for the next two rides. I watched as everyone made their second and third rides. Rhett’s second ride was another perfect one, with the exception of the bull not cutting him off. But he was in first place and Luke was in second, the scores were close and I was nervous for his last ride. Luke went and had a perfect third ride, but come Rhett’s third I could see how tired yet determined he was. I watched him climb into the chute, the bull he was on starting to throw itself around. Time slowed until the buzzer went off and the chute opened. Rhett was hanging on for dear life, but I gasped as his hand came loose and he went flying off the bull, landing on his shoulder. He had injured it once already and I knew this new injury would be worse. 

“Rhett!” I yelled as I ran over, worried about him. Two of his buddies were helping him over to a bench when I got there. “How bad is it?” I asked. His breath was shaky and his skin was clammy. “I think I knocked it out of place again.” He said and I grabbed his hand, slowly lifting it until he cried out. “Okay, want me to help you put it back in place?” I asked and he nodded, fighting back tears. I grabbed his wrist, slowly lifting it until he couldn’t handle it anymore. “Ready?” I asked and he nodded. “Okay.” With that I quickly lifted his arm and rolled the ball of his shoulder back into socket. “AH!” He yelled out. “Okay. Okay, it’s over.” I said as one of his friends handed me a sling. “Let’s get this on.” I said, guiding his arm into the sling as his breathing started evening out. “Do you need a pain pill?” I asked and he shook his head. “No, I stopped taking them.” He said and I looked at him in surprise. “Oh, really?” I asked and he nodded. “I stopped drinking so much too.” He said and I smiled at him. “And how do you feel?” I asked. “I just popped my shoulder out of place. I don’t feel like I’m layin’ in a field of daisies.” He said and I laughed. “Well after they announce the scores, why don’t we get something hot to drink and have a seat somewhere so we can talk.” I said and he nodded. “I’d like that.” We sat there in silence for a minute. It wasn’t awkward like I expected, it was comfortable, but I could tell he was nervous. 

“Hey,” I said, resting my hand on his. “You’ll come out in first place.” I told him and he chuckled, squeezing my hand. “You’re usually right about this stuff.” He said and we continued to wait. “And in first place…” The announcer said. It was between him and Luke and I knew he was nervous. “Local boy and winner for the third year in a row, Rhett Abbott!” The cheers were deafening as I squealed, pulling Rhett into a hug. “I’m proud of you!” I said out of habit and my face turned red. Many people came up to congratulate Rhett but finally we managed to grab some warm apple cider and Rhett led us back to the trailers. “You okay?” He asked, looking back at me as I trailed behind him. “Yeah, just thinking about the last time I was back here.” I said truthfully and he nodded. “C’mon.” He said, taking my hand and leading me over to his GMC. He set the tailgate down before getting into the back and pulling out a blanket. “Here, I know you get cold.” He said. I took the blanket from him, thinking about all the times we were wrapped up together in this blanket. “So, what did you want to tell me?” I asked as I climbed onto the tailgate. He sat next to me, taking a deep breath before letting it out. “What you saw last New year’s, it really wasn’t what you thought it was.” He said and sighed. “She originally asked me where Luke was and I told her I didn’t know. Then she started asking me things like how long I had been riding for. I didn’t want to be rude so I just answered her questions.” I nodded, showing him I was listening. “She asked me if I would go out with her, and I told her no because I wasn’t single. I turned to face her to tell her we were dating and she grabbed my face, and kissed me.” He said.

“I couldn’t just shove her away, she was tiny, she would’ve gotten hurt and then there would’ve been more problems and Joy would’ve gotten involved. I was trying not to panic but then you caught us and my entire world just fell apart at that moment.” I took a deep breath, looking down at my cup. “You had every right not to believe me, and to dump me. But I really needed you to at least know the truth.” He told me. “This has been the worst year of my life.” He said and I nodded. “Mine too.” I said and he raised a brow at me. “I’m sorry I ran you out of town.” He said and I chuckled. “You didn’t run me out of town Rhett. That was all me. I thought it would do me some good, but apparently it didn’t.” I said and he nodded. We sat in silence until he lifted his head and looked at me. “Dance with me?” He asked, holding out his free hand for me and I stared for a moment before nodding. “Okay.” I said, taking his hand. His free hand fell to my waist as his hand in the sling took mine as my own free hand rested around his neck. “Your dad told me you’ve been focusing on how to get me back.” I said and he sighed. “I realized I had to prove it to you.” He said and I nodded. “Even just tonight I can see how much work you’ve put in.” I said and he smiled at me. “I still really love you, darlin’.” His forehead fell to mine, just like it did last year and I smiled at him just as ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham! came on. “This song really sums up this last year.” I said and he nodded. “I still love you.” He said. “So much. And I was wondering, would… would you give me another chance? You don’t have to, but I have to at least ask.” I still really love him. So much so that it hurts. “Okay.” I said and his face lit up. “But we’re really gonna have to take this slow.” I said and he nodded. “Whatever you want, honey.” He said. His face slowly inched closer to mine as a few snowflakes fell around us. “Are you gonna kiss me or just breathe in my face?” I asked and he chuckled. “Can I kiss you?” He asked and I just rolled my eyes before pulling him into a soft kiss. He pulled me against him, crushing my body to his. “Fuck I missed doing that.” He said, pulling away and I grinned at him. “I did too.” I said, kissing him again. “I love you, Rhett.” I couldn’t resist saying it. “I love you too, darlin’.”

[blackoutspoetry]

The Anatomy of Starved Dogs (part 2)

First part:

Ao3 link:

Warnings!!

Child abuse/neglect

Drug use/overdose

Mentioned suicide

26 YEARS EARLIER

GHOST

MANCHESTER, ENGLAND

20 APRIL 1993

Many people make the mistake to think children are born blank slates, canvases that the image of personhood must be projected onto. They’re naive to believe that changing the environment that surrounds the child in their formative years will change the person he grows up to be so drastically, that they can change his fate completely. 

But they forget the remnant of a blueprint, his DNA. 

He is bound, even if not fully, to the downfalls, the sins of his father, and though it is easy to think of the potential such a young thing might have, half his story is already written, inked into the body in the very blood in his veins. 

Some are born with the heart to serve, others with one bound to destruction, and it is the job of the parent to recognise the latter and be vigilant not to enable his violent tendencies. 

Failure as a parent to recognise these things will lead to death, and sometimes it is a parent’s duty to swallow the bitter pill that is the realisation that some people are just inherently born evil. 

You can build them, or break them, but the troubled children of yesterday might grow up to be the pillars society rests on further down the line. With a bit of guidance, that boy hell bent on destruction could build nations, or bring around their demise, and one with a soft heart might lose it completely to whoever he let hold it first…

Simon squeezed his eyes shut tightly, turning his head away as he brought the rock smashing through the exoskeleton of the beetle. He hits it again just to make sure it's properly dead before raising the rock away to look at the damage done with a painful lurch of his heart. 

He mutters a futile apology to the poor thing before scooping the crushed body up with a leaf and putting it in the empty pill bottle his mother had given him. 

He hates killing the things, but it was one thing Aunt Amelia had not considered about his Christmas gift. 

 

“An ant farm,” she had said proudly as she presented it to him, still standing bleary eyed in the kitchen in his spiderman pyjamas. “Because I know how much you love bugs.” her smile had faltered a little bit into a grimace but quickly reset itself when she noticed the smile on his face. 

She stepped aside to admire his excitement as Simon watched the ants crawling over each other in their organised chaos, squealing with excitement as he spotted the queen. 

Aunt Amelia laughed at the six year old, now staring at the colony with sparkling eyes. 

He couldn’t see the expression on his mothers face then, smiling at her boy in her hazy detached way, avoiding the eye contact her sister kept on trying to initiate with her. 

His father stood off a little way with a stinking cigarette in his hand, watching the scene unfold with more than a little disdain. 

When the tension between the adults got too much, his mother moved him like a pawn on their chessboard, prompting him into taking the heat off her. 

“Now, Simon, what do we say to auntie Amelia for the nice gift?” 

“Thank you!” he rushed over and almost knocked her over in a hug. She braces herself against the kitchen counter behind her, knocking into the gathered group of dirty glasses and three day old dishes by the sink. She wiped her hand with a bit of disgust, trying to mask it, but Simon had seen it, so had his mother. 

“Calm down, you’re going to break something like that!” his father shouted. 

“Oh it's nothing, he’s just excited,” Aunt Amelia could feel Simon go rigid in her hold and quickly came to the boy’s defence, placing her hand on his shoulders in a futile attempt to shield him. She held the man’s gaze until he left the room with a defeated sigh. 

She knew his father, and the hem of the boy’s shirt wasn’t able to cover all of the bruises. 

“I should get going, still have a Christmas party to get to,” she said awkwardly, reaching for her purse and shuffling out of the kitchen, away from Simon and towards the door. She hesitated by the security gate as Simon tried to reach out to grab her by the wrist. 

He doesn’t want her to go. Things are different when she leaves. He feels safer when she’s here. 

“Please stay longer, I missed you,” Simon pouts, lower lip jutting out to emphasise how desperately he wants her to stay, but she just shakes her head apologetically. 

“Sorry darling, I have some of my friends from work to go visit, they miss me too.” 

He felt the resolve shatter as his shoulders sagged, he could barely hide the glint of tears in his eyes and Aunt Amelia cupped his little face in her hands that promised safety, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back when I can. But for now, enjoy your gift, my boy. I love you.” 

Heaven knows he doesn’t hear those words enough, so she tells him every time she sees him.  

She puts a hand on his shoulder but promptly lightens her grip when she sees him flinch, almost losing her smile when she notices the fading bruise just visible above the hem of his shirt. She looks him in the eye, “you take good care of your brother too, Simon.” 

Regrettably, she leaves him there as his mother walks her out, down the steps to the driveway. 

Simon watches the two forlornly from the window and briefly wonders what life would have been like if she was his mother instead. 

Later that evening, he was sitting by the kitchen counter, still transfixed by the crawling ants when his father came up behind him, looking displeased.

“You know you’re going to have to feed those things dead bugs, and you’re going to have to kill them yourself.” 

He left without another word to sit himself down on their worn out couch in the other room and watch whatever program was on TV, but Simon didn’t mind that now, too invested in his little colony to care. 

Distantly, he could hear little Tommy wailing in another room and willed him to stop before his father lost his temper. He always loses his temper when Tommy cries. 

 

Back then, he’d thought dispatching the dispatching of the insects would have gotten easier down the line. It hadn’t. 

At first, he thought he might escape the moral dilemma of having to kill the thing by just throwing it to the ants, but watching them tear its writhing, agonised body limb from limb was more frightening than taking care of it himself, so he considers it a mercy. 

From the driveway. Simon could hear his brother crying and rushed back inside a minute when no one had gone to check on him. 

The house is dark and the curtains are drawn to hide the mess in the cramped kitchen. 

Dirty dishes piled up in precariously balanced stacks on the countertops around the sink, the air stank of a sour mix of days old food and soured dairy. He scrunches his nose up and moves into the living room. 

Simon finds the TV with the sound just above mute. His mother is passed out on the couch with a magazine splayed open over her chest. Her arm was hanging over the edge of the couch and Simon took a moment to adjust it into a more comfortable position, closing the magazine. 

He pushed away some of the clutter on the coffee table to put it down there. 

She’ll probably come around in about an hour but be really out of it for the rest of the day. Simon suspects it has something to do with the pills she’s always taking.

She hides them in drawers and under seat cushions because his father gets angry when he sees her taking them. She’s been taking them after that surgery last year, but now her arm is completely healed and she’s still taking them. 

Simon finds Tommy in their shared bedroom, sprawled on the floor where he fell trying to climb under his too small cot. 

Simon rushed over to him and tried to comfort him to silence his crying, holding the two-year old close to him, but he didn’t know what more would help. He slowly rocked him back and forth. 

Simon shushes him quietly, cupping Tommy’s head to his shoulder. He makes good on his promise to Aunt Amelia. He would do his best to keep Tommy safe.

He looks Tommy over to check for any injuries, but aside from older bruises, he sees nothing new. 

“Don’t you worry, Tommy. Mommy’s going to be awake later to help you. She will help you,” he makes an empty promise, following it with a truer statement. 

“But I promise I’ll be here. I’ll always keep you safe.” 

If Tommy knew what that meant, Simon wasn’t sure. He looked his brother in the eye, finding his mother’s cornflower blue where his own were regretfully his father’s dull brown. 

He’ll take all of Tommy’s beatings for him if that’s what it took to keep him safe. 

When Tommy’s calmed down enough, Simon picks him up, doing his best to prop him up on his hip like he’d seen other mothers do with their children. 

Both Simon and Tommy were rather small for their age, so even though it should have been easier, his arm burns with the effort. 

Its alright though. He tells himself the same thing he tells himself when he’s pressing a bad bruise to check how much it hurts in the dirty bathroom mirror, or fixing up his own scrapes, because he’s ‘old enough to take care of himself’. He tells himself the pain is only temporary. 

With Tommy on his hip, Simon shuffles over to the window where his ant colony stood on their shared dresser. 

He watched them for a minute before he reached into his pocket for the pill bottle and knocked the bug out for the swarming colony. 

It gives him a sense of pride. He might not be old enough or strong enough to help Tommy on his own, but at least there is something he can provide for. 

That night, a long while after Simon had gone to bed, he hears the beginnings of  a fight in the kitchen. 

He tries his best to ignore it, but after ten minutes of tossing and turning, he decides to see what’s going on. 

“We’ve got an infestation in this house,” his father announces. He’s rifling through the cupboards, looking for bug spray with his mother standing deflated by the broom closet, still recovering from her earlier nap. 

Simon could do nothing but watch anxiously with his arms crossed across his chest as his father let his wrath out on his half lucid mother. 

She rubbed tiredly at the bags under her eyes and fixed her eyes on her husband, both blatantly ignoring their son. 

Simon flinches as his father yanks open another drawer filled to bursting point with odds and ends, sandwich bags and old serviettes pinned between the wooden drawer and countertop as he shoves it closed. He curses when it won’t close properly. 

“We don’t have anything,” his mother reiterates slowly, still half clocked out by the pills. 

Another cupboard door shuts harshly, crockery clattering on the other side. 

“Then fucking buy some. There are cockroaches in the cupboards and moths have eaten through the last of my goods shirts.” 

He shakes his head in wild disbelief. 

“You hoard everything under the sun. you barely clean, dinner’s never ready when I get home.” 

Simon felt himself go lightheaded. He’s been a witness to this particular scripted conversation far too many times. 

The next thing that she’ll say is– 

“I have two children to raise!” 

As if she’s ever actually awake to take care of them. 

Either you buy some or you're going back to rehab.” 

No, they can’t have her go back to rehab. Even though there was always a lot of tension in the house when his parents were fighting, it was worse when she was away. He was never particularly close with his mother, but his father tended to take his anger out on the children when she was away. 

She can’t go away again. He still has the pains from the last time she went away. 

“I don’t need to go to rehab–” 

“Yes you do. I found the pills you hid in the desk drawer.” 

“That’s none of your business, you have no right to meddle with my things!” 

“You’re an addict!” 

“So are you! Half the time you don’t show up sober from work and heaven knows you’re sky high when you crawl back home from whatever shithole you’ve been drinking in.” 

Simon’s eyes shot over to his father who raised his hands in anger, sure he was about to bring down his wrath on his mother who was already covered in half healed bruises under her shirt, Simon had seen them. 

In a split second panic, he coughs to alert both of them to his presence. 

"What do you want, boy?" His father asks, with exasperation. 

"Can't sleep," he makes a lame excuse, just for the sake of trying to avoid witnessing another bout of violence. He doesn't like hearing her cry and the last thing he needs now is for her to go back to the hospital or to rehab. 

He's been to the hospital before, but he doesn't know what rehab is. He just knows it means she'll go away for a long time and he can't have that. 

"Can't you see we're having an adult conversation? Go back to bed." 

"But I can't–"

"Then make a fucking plan, do I have to spell everything out for you?" 

Fearing what would happen if he didn't leave, Simon walks off wearily to his room and closes the door, trying his best to drown out the screaming match in the kitchen.

There's a shout and something like glass shatters on the floor, followed by more cursing and he presses his palms tightly into his ears, willing the noise to go away. 

He crawls back into bed, pulling the blanket over his head and covering his ears with the pillow, but it barely helps. The cursed walls of the house are so thin he can hear them right on the other side, screaming, swearing, mother in tears. 

His heart is racing and there's no way he'll be able to fall asleep like this. 

He needs something to help him calm down, to sleep.

Then it hits him, a genius idea, really. 

He gets out of bed and quietly opens the door, but his parents are too occupied to notice anyway as he tiptoes across the hall to his parents bedroom and pulls open the study drawer, finding the little bottle of clinking pills in his mother's jewellery box. 

He can't count very well, not over fifty. His teachers are concerned about his maths skills, but he won't need that much. His mother takes 4 to get her a good long nap. He'll take the same, it should help him quiet down the noise. 

He shakily tosses out a handful, throwing back the rest he's not going to drink before looking at the four intimidatingly large looking pills in his hand. He leaves the room before anyone can find him there and goes to the bathroom to swallow them down. He takes the bottle with him as he shuffles back to bed, just in case the four don’t help him get to sleep fast enough. 

He sets the little pill bottle on the nightstand and crawls back in under the lukewarm sheets. 

The pills were surprisingly strong, brain already feeling fuzzy and clouded as he laid his head on the pillow and tugged the blanket over his head. His movement is barely coordinated enough for him to be able to complete the action and he frowns at his hand, now an image converging and diverging in the darkness as he struggles to grasp the edge of the duvet to pull it up. 

But once he’s managed to grab hold of it, it seems as though all the strength has left his body and he cannot grip it tight enough to pull. 

The voices in the kitchen blur together and Simon can no longer distinguish one from the other as he is lulled into a void of silence. 

He’s only vaguely aware of what is going on around him, but he can hear his parents in the room, still arguing but closer now and he can hear Tommy crying. He doesn’t know how long he’s been crying, all Simon knows is that it's been a while. 

He wants to sit up, but he can’t. In his mind’s eye, he pictures himself pushing up off the bed, imagines it only vaguely in a delicate thread he’s still clinging onto consciousness with, but it's as though his body is frozen and his muscles have gone slack, he’s not lucid enough to get them to cooperate, he’s far gone enough that he accepts it as a fact he’s not even bothered by, just a state of being floating in his periphery, he’s the centre of a endless void, weightless and careless. 

His ebbing and swelling grasp on reality helps him pick up pieces of the noise. His mother tries to soothe Tommy’s crying, his father over her shoulder. And then there’s something that sounds vaguely concerned.

The barest outline of a shadow as one of the two– he can’t open his eyes to tell– looms over him. 

He hears something about pills. 

“–breathing?” 

Someone might have been touching him but he couldn’t be sure.  

“Barely.” 

“Shit. He’s taken four.” 

Something that distorts too much to make out. 

“I’d know, I count my pills–” 

The last thing he hears is something about a hospital before he barely registers a change in the weightlessness, like pressure in his brain as he’s lifted out of his bed in a suppressed whirlwind of panic.

Then it all fades to nothingness. 

2019

There’s a level of respect that Soap has to give Captain Price for his recruitment methods. 

Albeit somewhat unorthodox and having a pinch more coercion involved than he was really comfortable with, Soap knew that this was his angle since the day they met all those years ago at Credenhill for his training. 

Since then, Price has been a difficult man to pin down, finding his way into all kinds of international operations, but he’d taken a liking to Soap then, and it was foolish of him to think he’d get away from that without being roped into one of these high stakes things before Price was done with him. 

As was the way of the world, you don’t earn the respect of someone like Captain Price and think you’ll walk away with your hands clean. 

Soap knows from experience, rumours that had spread through the base at the time like wildfire, that the Captain doesn't make friends, he collects weapons. 

He’d gotten that bit of wisdom from a buddy that didn’t make it past selection at the time. Soap had never heard from him again, but he’d always remember that little thing he’d said when he noticed the man staring at Soap from across the room, arms behind his back, chin tilted up like he was breaking down his physique into stats, similar to the words printed into his dog tags. 

Height, weight, agility, speed, strength, age, fitness, and maybe, even if he didn’t want to admit it, how willing he was to sacrifice himself in the line of fire. 

Turns out martyrdom isn’t a thing easily bred out of a man fixated on his own self destruction. In standard society, such a trait might have been considered reckless or suicidal, but in this line of work, it was far more honourable, one of the reasons the job had appealed so much to him at the time. 

Now, as he sits in the faux leather seat of the plane, kneading his hands into his thighs with his headphones in, he thinks that sixteen-year-old John MacTavish was a testosterone loaded, short sighted idiot of a teenager. No child below the legal drinking age should be signing anything legally binding, especially nothing like this. 

He promised to keep himself safe, and it had taken less than a month to break that promise. He promised her he would consider her suggestion for him to resign and he really doesn’t want to do that anymore. 

Try as he might to deny it, he likes the adrenaline, how important the job makes him feel to be making a difference. 

So, no. Soap would not be throwing in the towel at twenty-five. 

 

It had been Price that dragged him into this precarious situation to begin with, so it only made sense that when he touched down in England, Price would be there waiting for him after he’d collected his suitcase. 

With a professional exchange of words, Price led him out of the airport, forgoing a much needed meal in favour of going somewhere private. Making filler small talk, Price led him over to a nondescript car in need of a repaint. 

The trunk popped open  with a chirp of the alarm and Soap hauled his suitcase into the back with a huff and shut the lid again, pretending not to feel Price's eyes on him as he turned to his side of the car. 

"How's your mum doing with this?" Price eventually asks when they're leaving the underground parking and out into the bland city air. 

It's stale and stinks of office buildings, smog and apathy. Not all that different from Glasgow, if Soap was being honest. 

"She's right pissed about it." 

"As expected," Price half grimaced as he turned out onto a road feeding deeper into the heart of the city, returning them to the circulatory system of winding roads and potholed asphalt. 

The highway promises a dead end at the other side. This job, this once-off thing for Price felt to Soap like there were a lot more strings attached than he was letting on. 

"We'll have you right back to Scotland as soon as the job's done." 

"What exactly is the job, sir?" Soap asks. 

"I'm afraid I can't tell you too much just yet, but we'll get to that soon– you mind if I smoke one?" Price cut himself off and held up a half smoked cigar in Soap's direction. 

"Go ahead." 

Soap turned his attention to the congestion of the road holding them up. His mind drifted to that morning by the airport, his mother's last words to him. 

"You promised me you wouldn't do this to yourself." His mother has said through tears welling in the corner of her eyes.

They were standing by the baggage drop and the tired woman attending his luggage ignored their emotional moment as she unceremoniously loaded his suitcase onto the conveyor belt and sent it off for loading. 

"I know, I know. But I'll make it up to you." 

"How do you possibly plan on doing that?" She was a combination of angry and defeated. 

"I don't know yet," he confessed sheepishly. "But I will find a way." 

"You better, John. You promised me you were going to leave this job behind," she reminded him. 

"It isn't that simple," he said. "I've built a life for myself there. Its a good job, with good money. Heaven knows we need it after da's passing." 

Soap clasped her fingers in his, planting a little apologetic kiss over her knuckles. Her demeanour doesn't soften in the slightest. 

"I know it's simple enough for me to know that you can replace a job, but I can't replace my son if anything were to happen to you. There's more to life than just what you want, John." 

He lets her hand go at once, averting his gaze to the boarding announcements. His flight wasn't due to leave for another hour. 

Met with no answer, she pushed on. "I know you're ambitious, John. Its one of the most admirable traits about you, but you need to learn when to let things go. Things aren't just about you. We worry. I worry, your sisters worry, we're afraid of losing you. You've had your fun, but its time to move on. Before its too late and you end up with permanent damage." 

Soap hasn't the heart to tell her he already has permanent damage and instead opts for a consolatory kiss to her forehead. 

"I'll be alright. You'll see." 

Before his mother can muster the strength for more pushback, the woman from the luggage clears her throat and they turn to meet her impatient expression. 

"If you don't mind, there are other people waiting in line." 

Reminded of the uncomfortable  situation, Soap's mouth pulled into a tight line.

"I don't appreciate being held on a string, Cap." 

“I don’t like withholding information either, but I’m afraid it isn’t my call to make here. Once we reach base we'll cover the details, make sure you know what you're getting yourself into.” 

Soap nodded but Price’s words did nothing to calm his unease. 

“Will the General be joining us?” 

“Not for the briefing, but he's given me all the necessary information to relay to you. He'll be with us in Verdansk, though." 

Verdansk. That Glasgow coffee shop conversation.  The planned attack on the airport. Soap's head was spinning with the urgency of the situation. 

“And your other man?” 

Price grimaced around the cigar, letting the smoke go before he made any attempt to respond to Soap. 

“He’ll be there. And another guy Shepherd trusts enough to be on this. But he’ll be there.” 

Frustrated with the lack of information, Soap leans his head against the window and closes his eyes, tucking his hands into the pockets of his grey hoodie. He’s half asleep a couple of minutes later, but it seems he has actually managed to get a minute of sleep in, because the scenery has drastically changed and the sun seems to sit a bit higher in the sky. 

By the look of it, they’re not far off now and will be there any minute. 

“Okay, so there’s two things you need to know about my guy,” Price begins. The cigar is gone now. Soap had definitely managed a few blessed minutes of sleep. 

“Yes?” 

“If he tells you to do something, you do it. I know you have a history of authority issues but he is not the kind of man to try any of that with. If he says he knows better than you about a certain thing, it's because he does.”

That doesn’t sit right with Soap, but he’ll take it. 

“And the other thing?” 

“Don’t ask questions about his appearance. No personal questions, either. It's for your safety, not his.” 

Soap laughs uneasily, throwing sarcasm into his response. “You make him sound real nice.” 

“He’s alright. Just a bit of an acquired taste.” 

Soap scoffed. “ Coffee is an acquired taste, saying that about a person, it just makes him sound like a dick.” 

Price gave a small laugh. “He’s really alright, Soap. But just keep in mind what I said.” 

Arrival on base proceeded with little fanfare. They stopped at the gate and Price flashed his ID, drove in and parked on his usual spot. 

They’ve got a decent bit to walk and Soap picks up on a strange sort of atmosphere as Price led him over to a room towards the back of the building, ducking them into side corridors and keeping their heads down, only briefly acknowledging the men passing them in the hallway. 

“How many people really know what’s going on about this situation?” Soap asked as they turned into an empty corridor. 

“Not many, so I suggest you think of a lie if someone asks you what you’re doing here.” 

Finally, after a good ten minutes of walking, Price stops outside a closed door at the end of a hallway, hand hovering over the door handle. 

“Remember what I said, Soap. Don’t say anything you’ll regret.” 

Price turns the doorknob and motions for Soap to step into the room. 

It's a small space. The floors are covered in cheap industrial carpeting and the room is windowless, lit by equidistant cool white fluorescent bulbs and still suffocatingly dark because of the near black paint on the walls. In the centre of the room was a long, white conference table, overlooked by a large monitor. 

There’s a poor attempt at making the room feel more homely in the form of a potted plant sitting in the corner under the monitor’s mount, but it's so obviously plastic, the small waste bin on the other end of the room looks like it cost more. 

For the moment of stale silence, the low humming of the ventilation sets Soap’s nerves on edge as it filters flavourless circulated air into the room and pushes that strange atmosphere to stand at attention. 

He’s here again. He was meant to retire. He was meant to hand in his papers for good just a week from now. A week. 

Soap feels as though the room is going to suffocate him by the time Price gestures for him to take a seat at the table opposite two other men, but he makes no move to take a seat himself. 

It's not until he looks up that Soap really realises what Price had meant about not saying anything he’d regret. 

The man adjacent to him is not much older than himself; hazel eyes and lightish brown hair buzzed short. Normal appearing with a kind demeanour, but the other, much larger man across from Soap had a more foreboding presence. 

It was almost surreal, seeing Simon Riley for the first time. Soap didn’t need Price’s confirmation to know that this was his ‘other man’, his presence spoke for itself. 

Soap understands gimmickry. He understands anonymity. Hell, he understands feeling insecure about his body, or disfigurement, or scarring. But what the fuck is the man wearing a skullfaced balaclava for? 

He’s clad head to toe in black. Dark cargo pants, heavy laced boots and thick black cotton hoodie, and a fucking black skull mask. 

Was this what Price meant by not asking questions about his appearance? No one had told him it was because the man they were meeting looked more the part of a criminal than a soldier. 

But, Soap supposes he did make a promise, and he keeps his mouth shut. 

“Seems you’ve decided to join us, Captain,” the man across from Price says. 

“Yes. had to pick this one up from the airport first. But without further ado, we should get this over with. You all make friends while I get this thing booted up.” 

Price turns to Soap. “Sergeant MacTavish, Sergeant Burns,” he hurriedly introduces the two to each other and they exchange a stiff handshake. Price makes no move to introduce him to the masked man, moving over to the monitor. 

“And you must be Lieutenant Riley,” Soap said with a measured smile, extending his hand across the table towards the black clad figure. From what little Soap could see of the man, he did not look impressed. 

Almost cruel seeming brown eyes drag over his form, from the outstretched hand to analyse his face for a moment. 

Soap’s smile wavered a bit, hand not quite so sure of its position between them anymore before he felt a rough gloved hand take his. 

"I prefer Ghost." 

Gimmickry and downright cringe. If Soap didn't know better, he might've thought the man was nothing more than a scene kid from the 2000s that didn't quite outgrow that phase in the nineteen years following. 

But maybe, he thinks as he remember's Price's words about being an acquired taste and being a good man, he supposes he shouldn't be so quick to judge. 

He can't help it sometimes. His nature is hostile even when he has no reason to be. 

"Then call me Soap if we're not on a name basis." 

The man huffed out an unimpressed acknowledgement, but the grip on Soap’s hand remained light and unintrusive. He lets it go. 

A garbled noise to their left alerts Soap to the screen starting up. 

"Let's not beat around the bush, shall we. All of you know why you are here. You are here because General Shepherd and myself trust that you are capable of getting the job done and that you understand that nothing discussed here can leave this room. Do you understand?" 

A unanimous agreement echoed across the table and Price was content to turn to the monitor to retrieve the remote.

"Over the last couple of years, there's been a series of incidents." 

Price brought up an old file on the screen. Some of the text was redacted but the relevant points highlighted. 

"In February of 2017, a large shipment of weapons and resources for explosives manufacture out of Urzikstan was found carrying only two thirds of its intended cargo. The rest remains unaccounted for, but with current Russian occupation in Urzikstan, the blame is tentatively given to General Barkov and the Russian army, but he denies any involvement." 

Price moves over to another case. 

"In July of 2018, a bomb planted in a market in Urzikstan took out half the street, killing six civilians and injuring fifty. Remains of the explosive pointed to it being made with resources from out of Urzikstan. The attack pushed a tentatively balanced agreement between the Russians and Al Qatala, the terrorist group operating in the area, to breaking point. The following conflict led to a bloodbath with Barkov and his men believing Al Qatala was trying to get the West to take note of the situation and take action against the Russians, and Al Qatala believing the Russians set them up to reestablish their hold on Urzikstan. The bomb was later proved to not have come from either, but from an unidentified outside source with the intention to stir up unrest between the groups. But it had its desired effect: four hundred innocent people lost their lives." 

Price moved onto another, this time several headlines covering the news from different angles and images of the gruesome scene. 

"Following this situation, in August of the same year, a Russian lawmaker threatening to cease the occupation of Urzikstan and order Russian forces to withdraw, was found dead after he 'fell out of' his third storey bedroom window. His pro occupation counterpart soon stepped up to fill the vacant role. There is no legitimate proof of foul play." 

Soap clenched and unclenched his hands under the table, keeping his eyes locked on the screen.

"Further, between this, spanning from October of 2016, September 2018, and what we believe might be an impending attack now, there has been a total of eight seemingly random, untraceable terrorist incidents across Europe, which have been largely downplayed by the media." 

"Wait," Soap stops him short. "How do we know of this supposed imminent threat?" 

"I've been trying to get to the bottom of this for the last four years. I've managed to get connections and I've somehow got myself an anonymous informant." 

"An anonymous informant?" Riley– Ghost asks sceptically. "What's to say this isn't some trap you're walking us into?"

Soap doesn't say anything, but his hand comes up to clutch at the metal over his heart. 

He knew this was going to be a mistake and he went ahead with it anyway. He should've know, he should've stayed home, he should have handed in those papers–

"The guy's legit. The information he's given is solid and checks out flawlessly. He's given me names, organisations, information about the Russians no one else would know. I've cross referenced the names he's given and locations they allegedly were in at the time of certain events, and it checks out." 

"He's Russian?" Burns asks with an equal tone of scepticism. "Do you think he's one of Barkov's men?" 

"I honestly can't say," Price says, shaking his head."But I'd rather take his word for it than choose not to believe him and see Makarov blow up an airport because I didn't know how to take a sign." 

Soap's hand clutched around the metal. It soothes him a bit. But not much. Not enough. 

What the fuck has he gotten himself into now?

Price clicked a button on the little black remote and a familiar face appeared on the screen. Alongside it was a list of basic personal information that had been in the file Price had shown him in Glasgow. 

He stood off to the side of the monitor as he addressed the group. 

"Vladimir Makarov has an official record of acting radically. He was observed by his teachers in school to have a very serious and driven mindset, expressing genuine interest in dangerous ideology and sometimes getting himself into physical fights. But mostly, his most worrying observed trait was being able to stir up conflict by manipulating a situation between his classmates just right, that the conflict would come about organically, just exposed by changing circumstances without changing anything about how they actually feel about each other. Just reaching the legal age, he joined the Russian military, working under –you guessed it– General Roman Barkov during his initial incursion into Uriskstan. For reasons unclear, he was dishonourably discharged after that. That said, Vladimir Makarov was born on October 4th, 1980 to a high profile family of which three of his immediate family members –his father being one of them– were outspoken politicians during the 70s and 80s, right up until the fall of the Soviet Union."

Price pressed another button and a few scans of old newspaper headlines, cover images and grainy frames from old news reports cropped onto the screen.

"From the day he was born, he was conditioned into being comfortable in front of a camera. How to act in front of outsiders and how to speak to reporters if it came to it." 

All the images were candid photographs taken of a middle aged man on various occasions, but they had something else in common. A young child, varying between the ages of what Soap judged to be five and ten, was tucked almost inconspicuously into each of the images. 

If Soap hadn't known any better, he might have thought him to be one of the crowd. But he's too well dressed and appears far too frequently for that to be the case. 

In the latest of the photos, he's seen being escorted from the scene by a handful of armed security while his father was making a speech. 

"The stress of the job was a lot to handle and word was that Makarov's father abused him and his mother during especially hard times. Whatever he was feeling at the time was only exacerbated by the discovery of his father's suicide, shortly after the fall of the Soviet Union. If he's carrying feelings from that formative time in his life as motivation for his present actions, we know what his angle of approach to his attacks are." 

"He's holding a grudge?" Ghost asks. 

"Most likely," Price confirmed. 

"Against who?" This time, it was Soap's turn to ask. 

"If he's angry at the job for making his father violent, he'd be by no doubt pissed about it all being for nothing when the fall drives his old man to suicide," Ghost explains. 

"So he's angry at the West for interfering?" Burns asks. 

"The Russian government, too, for how they handled the situation," Price adds. 

Soap frowned, recalling the information he'd been steadily soaking in over the last half hour. 

"But then why join the Russian army?" 

Price huffed. "Well, we can't speculate too much, but it could be anything from legit experience to high end connections. After all, Makarov does all his arrangements by proxy. Which is why it's so difficult to pin him down. But we have a chance now," he reminded. 

"According to my source, we have the exact time and location where Makarov will be planting the bomb. It's now our job to get there and stop him in the act. It's the only way we'll get to him now without compromising staying one step ahead." 

"We'll have to cut it very close then," Soap says, trying to keep the discomfort out of his voice. 

"When do we leave?"

"If all goes well and we keep this under the radar, we leave for Verdansk tonight." 

It isn't much longer until they're free to leave the room and Price sets them with the parting words, grave and serious,"We can't afford to screw up now. As I've said, Makarov does everything by proxy, so the fact that he wants to be there himself means he wants this to make a statement. He wants to put on a show." 

 

Soap finds himself savouring the fresh air. He finds the nearest door to the outside world and finds himself trying to piece himself back together by the wall behind the toilets. 

It probably looks a bit pathetic as he's trying to compartmentalise to make the situation seem less of a dumpster fire than it really was. 

Fuck. He knew he was going to be getting his hands dirty, but he wants no part in this. 

Trying to keep his light meal of refrigerated aeroplane sandwich down, he leans against the wall of his secluded corner and takes a couple of deep breaths. 

To hell with trying to explain this one to his mother. He's damn well fucked now. He squeezes his eyes shut and musters a desperate prayer. 

Asking for strength, for success so that he doesn't have to walk away with blood on his hands or be sent home to his mother in an urn. 

As he opens his eyes, Soap notices a flask of dark movement to his right, the door opening along the wall and of all people, Ghost stepping out. 

He's lighting himself a cigarette with his back turned to Soap. Without a doubt, his mask is pulled up slightly above his mouth and he hears the man mutter a curse when the cigarette won't light in the bitter little breeze that's decided to kick up. 

He doesn't know Soap is there and Soap doesn't say anything. 

But as he watches Ghost walk off in whichever direction with his cigarette in hand, watching those broad shoulders shift with every motion of his body, the muscles pull the fabric of that hoodie taut over his skin, Soap thinks his long gone companion from training was right. 

Captain Price does not make friends, he collects weapons.

[themaresnest-dumblr]

Raiders Of The Lost Island Consignment Shop - Part 126

PART ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY SEVEN TO FOLLOW!

[alexagirlie]

Sasnak City The Kingdom Convention - Day 3

(Link to Day 1) (Link to Day 2)

The final day! This day was a catch up day to make up any missed autographs and photos that didn't get done the first two days.

My group had a ton of photos to make up but we did hit a bit of a snag.

Our first photo of the day went great, a group photo with all four of us along with Mark and Arnas. Arnas once again coming up with the sword pose idea.

However after this photo my friend, who has a medical condition, partially collapsed and had to be brought back to her seat and had to sit out the rest of the photo op session.

(I really applaud the staff at this event for doing everything they could to make sure she was ok but she did end up having to have her own make up session later in the day and sat the rest of this one out.)

I got my last two photos done, one with Arnas and another one with both the boys.

I got to hug Arnas (my life is complete) and they both said good bye to my friend on their way out to lunch.

I also want to give a huge shout out to Rod Hallet (Constantine), after he was finished with his own photos for the day he came and sat with my friend and chatted with her for a bit while the rest of us got our photos done. He had opened his gift bag from the group and had read the poem my friend had write for him and he really like it. (She did one for all the cast, done in anglo saxon style, plus did a version translated in to old english as well). He was very very sweet.

After the photo op session was over it was time for lunch and then we got our autographs from Ryan. He was also very sweet and asked if my friend was feeling better and helped her to a chair while i got my print signed.

After that my friend and I had our meet and greet with Mark.

The man was late. He spent his lunch hour doing some sort of virtual tour thing and then at the last minute decided to eat. He still had half a cookie when he showed up 🤣

We got lots of good info during the meet and greet, including insider info on a new project he is writing that he would like to make one day. A super, super dark comedy.

I also asked about any ad lib that made it in to the show and he told us they did so much! The line about eating too much cabbage in season 5 was aaaalll him :D

We did our selfies.

Then they decided to save time by finishing his meet and greet with autographs in the same room and my friend had a ton of stuff so I was her gopher. Carrying things, running back and forth etc...

We ended up having to boogy back to the photo op room so my friend could get the last of her photo ops (Arnas helped her to and from her chair, dude took pretty much her whole weight and she is as tall as he is). I definitely got my steps in! She also got the last of her autographs from Arnas and Eliza and we had a little bit more time to chat with them.

They really are so, so very amazing.

The convention ended with everyone back in the main hall and watching 2 more short films!

There was 1 film, called Man Made, which featured Cavan and Harry, plaging a father and son and was a little heartbreaking.

The second film was written by Amelia and starred our very own Stiorra(Ruby)! It is called Oh Rats! and it was so amazing, and weird and creepy and i really, really loved it.

The final event concluded with a surprise as well....

This is not the end.

There will be a 2025 event! (Your welcome, my friend and I suggested a 5 year reuinion to the organizer and she took it to heart!)

The actual reason was because a sword she had the cast signed to be auctioned for charity was missing the shield plate (it has since been found) and she didnt want it to go to waste.

So 2025 The Kingdom is a go! It will be open to previous attendees first, and I am already brainstorming how to start saving money for wheb the dates are announced! (I'm opening commissions soon if anyone is interested!)

Ps. Mark is meeting up with Alex in Italy and will put a good word in! So. Maybe an Uhtred appearance next year???

[igetthedisneybox]

Avila Madrigal

Inspired by @hannahhook7744's Encanto AU, and her own character headcanons.

Third image made using https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1558575

Fourth image made using https://www.dolldivine.com/la-colombiana

Fifth image made in Disney Dreamlight Valley

Avila’s full name is Avila Reina Guzmán-Madrigal.

Her first name means “town” and her middle name means “queen”. She is named for her maternal great-great grandmother.

She is the fourth child of Dolores Madrigal and Mariano Guzmán.

She has her father’s lighter skin tone and straight hair. She has Dolores’ facial shape and ears. Her hair is lighter than her parents, probably from Pepa. She also has Pepa’s teeth. She looks almost identical to Amada, but is slightly taller, and has slightly darker skin.

She is eleven years old.

She has an older sister by eight years, Leta, an older brother by three years, Andrés, an older brother by two years, Carlos, and a younger twin sister by thirty seconds, Amada.

She is currently uninterested in romance or sex.

Her gift is freezing time. She can only do so for small bursts, and she can pick and choose who gets frozen and who doesn’t. She likes using her power for shenanigans, and stopping accidents, but uses it sparingly, as her gift can be dangerous if used improperly.

Her door portrays her smiling with her arms in the air. A large pocket watch hovers above her, stopped with both hands in the 12:00 position.

Her room resembles the nursery, with pale yellow walls and wooden floors. Her bed is bigger than usual, as Amada will sneak into her room for secret sleepovers. She has a small side stage to practice her dancing, and many half-finished jigsaw puzzles scattered around.

His symbol is the infinity sign.

She and Dolores get along alright, but she is much more active and loud than her mother.

Both twins are Mariano’s pride and joy. They are his babies, and can do no wrong.

Leta is a horribly great influence on both twins. They often act as her sidekicks when she does stunts.

Andrés is the sibling they go to when they’re upset or scared. He always has comforting words for them.

Carlos gives the twins free stuff from his store, and encourages their wild antics.

She mainly hangs out with the other younger kids, Mariana, Tomás, Rómulo, Zoe, José, Héctor.

She gets along best with Pepa, Antonio, and Héctor.

She’s more of a tomboy than her twin. She likes to run around and get dirty with Mariana, Leta, Rómulo, and Héctor.

She likes to solve problems and puzzles. 

She likes to dance, and is very graceful with her movements. 

She is a few inches taller than Amada, and she lords it over her all the time.

She and Amada like to consider themselves like the ‘younger’ versions of Amelia and Sofía.

Her favorite colors are light yellow, maroon, dark pink, and light blue.

[jungle-angel]

Early Risers (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: Christmas morning under your roof is nothing short of special

It had been one hell of a Christmas, a blizzard having started on the way home from church the night before while you, Bob and the rest of the Dagger family had gathered at the ranch in Montana to celebrate. 

The kids had been quiet on the morning of Christmas Eve, playing round after round of beanbag toss in the large expanse of basement while the grown ups were left to take care of business. That was where the real craziness had ensued. 

It had all begun when Coyote, Rooster and Hangman had been sent on a liquor run, only to return with a truck bed containing half the store. Bob, your beloved and most patient of husbands, ran his hands over his face in exasperation despite the good intentions. 

Fanboy and his grandparents had shown up an hour later with Abuela Alma taking charge of the kitchen. You and her had the time of your lives as you cooked away, the house filling with a whole different array of smells that attracted the boys quite easily. Unfortunately, they were met with Alma’s swift hand and a dishtowel when Javy, Mickey and Rooster tried to sneak a taste of the tamales that had just come out of the oven. 

The kids had done the same thing, imitating their uncles and their grandfathers, though Alma was a bit softer with the children, shooing them away to the basement and warning them that if they didn’t wait they’d spoil their dinners. The both of you however, started to lose patience pretty quickly when Tank, Bob’s two year old Rottweiler sat close to the kitchen counters, pawing your thigh for a little taste of the food. 

Getting the kids ready for Christmas Mass was a nightmare in and of itself. Auggie, Nicky, Pete, Danny, Thomas, TJ, Sebastian, Roddy, Tiago and Gabe all complained about having to wear nice clothes, chasing each other through the house and whipping each other with their ties before their fathers all grabbed them to keep them from getting out of hand. The girls were a little easier, but keeping them from getting their clothes messed up? Phoenix and the guys all thought piloting through the canyon on the Uranium Plant mission was much easier than that. Finally, they decided to let the kids curl up in the living room to watch “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” if it would help keep them quiet. 

Christmas Mass went off without a hitch, everyone going early in the evening while the food warmed at home. It was so crowded that you, Bob and the rest of the squad all had to stand at the back, the kids resting on the floor for the time being while Father Gonzales officiated. Joe and Irene pulled their truck around after all was done, you and Bob loading up Auggie, Patrick, Deidre and Baby Rudy so that their grandparents could take them home. You and Bob on the other hand, rode home with Maverick, Penny, Amelia and the boys, all of you totally caught off guard by the blizzard that started before you had gotten up the driveway. 

Twelve hours and ten million reruns of “A Christmas Story” later, you, Bob and the rest of the family poked your heads into the living room to find all the kids asleep on top of the huge pile of unopened presents under the tree. No one could resist the thought of snapping pictures of the kids all asleep in their plaid Christmas jammies, some of them snoring away from having woken at three in the morning to see if Santa came. 

The kids awoke soon enough as everyone opened their gifts, overjoyed at the thought that was put into every one of them. The kids played with their new toys or read through their new books while you and the rest of the squad let breakfast cook in the oven or hauled out the remaining liquor to make mimosas. You and Bob couldn’t have imagined a more perfect day, a day where all of you were together, surrounded by your family and friends and the people who loved you most of all.

[channelsurfer02]

Slayers Pokémon Teams: Amelia Wil Tesla Seyruun

Lo and behold, Amelia’s Pokémon team! One thing you’ll probably note about this team is that half of the Pokémon aren’t fully evolved. This was an intentional choice on my part to show how Amelia, as the youngest member of the Slayers crew, still has some growing to do.

Arcanine: This one represents Amelia’s love of justice, as its hidden ability is justified and the Arcanine line is often used by officer Jenny in the anime.

Lokix: One might question what a dark type locust is doing on Amelia “lives, breathes, and eats justice” Seyruun’s team. However, one thing you should remember is that Lokix is based on Kamen Rider and Sentai heroes which Amelia is canonically a huge fan of, or at least the Slayers equivalent thereof. I could totally see Amelia practicing her posing with Lokix, trying to balance on the tallest available object while holding a suitably dramatic pose for as long as possible.

Hitmonchan: This one is obvious. Amelia punches stuff, Hitmonchan punches stuff. Easy choice, really.

Nidorina: Now we come to the unevolved Pokémon. In this case, nidorina is meant to represent Amelia’s status as a princess, though come to think of it, is that her actual title? I mean, Phil is a prince but he takes on more duties of statesmanship that princes usually do, which kinda makes him a king in all but name. Hmmm. Well, either way, I envision this Pokémon as being a gift from Naga, what with poison types being more her thing than Amelia’s.

Clefairy: Hey, I had to add a cutesy Pokémon here somewhere. Plus given the utility moves the Clefable line learns, it serves as a symbol of Amelia shrine maiden magic, which is largely support and healing focused. Also, it evolves with a moon stone, like Nidorina, which I thought was fitting considering Amelia’s sort-of love interest is Zelgadis.

Steenee: This is another Pokémon that evolves into a more royalty focused Pokémon, which I found to be fitting. Also, the Tsareena line fights with its feet, which I thought would be fitting for Amelia with her penchant for pugilism and close-quarters-combat.

[justanamesstuff]

All I Need

Blurb based on this request.

A/N: First, thanks 💗 anon for requesting this...can't say I had fun writing it, but it was interesting for sure. Secondly, this is about the morning of Chapter 9 of All I Need. Thank you for reading ♥

Warnings: ANGST. typos.

Word count: 1k

Blog MASTERLIST

Matty woke up groaning loud. The light coming from behind the curtains hurting his eyes. He rubbed them with too much force for a simple action. 

Y/n. Amelia.

His first thoughts circled around them immediately. The heavy feeling that he carried during those two weeks still there, inside his heart, trying to break him little by little. 

'What were they up to? Did they miss me?'

Amelia for sure, Matty still could hear her little cries calling for him. 

Did Y/n missed him? Because all he did every single minute of his day was missing her, missing having her inside his arms. 

Matty rolled to his side, trying to get out of the bed. His body was heavy, he was tired in every possible sense of the word. He wanted to go home, even though the sense of responsibility and compromise with the fans was stronger.

The reflection in the mirror looked back at him. The frontman let himself lean forward, almost touching the mirror with his forehead. He stared at his own face. 

Matty glanced around his pale skin, the bags under his eyes, avoiding his eyes. He couldn’t look there, not yet. 

His eyes danced around his sideburns and wrinkles around his eyes. Matty didn’t worry about being older, he'd lost interested on pitying himself for it a long time ago. Even when he fully knew that, he wished and hoped to slow it down. He wanted to grow older enough to witness his little daughter grow to the beautiful grown-up he knew Amelia was going to be. He wanted more kids with Y/n, as he told her. Seeing her belly grow with his baby again, feeling their kid kicking full of life, and then finally meeting them. Matty prayed to a God he didn’t believe to give him time.

When his eyes and its reflection encountered through the mirror, Matty’s eyes watered. 

A knock on his door startled him. Matty shook his face, getting rid of his thoughts crossing his mind for a minute. He went to open the door, only wearing his black boxers. Matty hid his almost naked form with it, finding Mark at the other side.

“Morning.” he greeted him.

“Hi, Mark.” 

“You weren’t answering your phone, we’re leaving in an hour, okay?” Matty fixed his sight on the floor, avoiding Mark’s scrutiny. 

“Sorry.” he mumbled. “Okay.” 

“You alright?” 

Matty was so exhausted to hear the question for the hundred time in only 24 hours. He knew they meant good, but it was driving him insane. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Matty reassured him. “‘m just tired and ready to go home.”

“Same, mate. Same.” Mark gifted him half a smile.

“‘kay, going to get ready.” Matty signalled with his hand pointing behind him.

Mark left without one more word. Matty thanked him in silence for it.

His phone. He forgot the thing on purpose, the urge to call home every single minute was strong. When you added the bad phone calls they had been on, Matty grew even more frustrated. Amelia made her best to communicate how against she was for Matty going away for so long. The little girl wanted to talk with him, but something inside her kept her crying and whining the whole time. It broke Y/n and Matty’s hearts. Amelia’s father didn’t want to inflict more suffering. 

Matty checked if Y/n texted him. Nothing. His stomach flopped. He tried to reason with himself about all the work Y/n had while taking care of Amelia to be texting him none stop.

The singer stared at the screen. Last message was his, a ‘good night. I love you’ after a picture of a very fast asleep Amelia inside her crib. Y/n replied with a heart and nothing more. 

He was sure she loved him, it couldn’t be another way. Matty felt it, he was sure. Even though the anxiety infecting his mind. What if she was talking with some boy already? Couldn’t be, but what if…

Matty locked his phone. 

He opened his suitcase laying on the floor closer to the bed. Never was the type of person to hang his clothes in the closet of the room. It was a waste of time when he only stayed in each for maximum two days. 

Matty rummaged inside the mass of clothes. Finding a simple t-shirt and a pair of light jeans. The idea of dressing like ‘trumanblack’ that day only wore him out. Taking the jeans out, the blue hoodie –Y/n liked to steal – stared back at him. Matty instantly grabbed it, lifting his eyes towards his phone at the other side of the room charging.

No sounds.

He sighed, putting the hoodie on. No matter how many times he had worn it, the thing smelled like home, like her. Matty tried to retain his tears. 

Ping!

Matty never ran faster in his life, feeling pathetic for it. George was hurrying him in the group chat. He sent him a selfie with a characteristic sign with only one finger up. 

Another notification appeared at the top of the screen. 

Y/n: Morning!

Y/n: Good luck today, we miss you 🥺😘

Matty stayed frozen in his place. He didn’t know how he was going to survive until the next day to see them. 

Matty: Hi, baby x

Matty: I miss you like crazy. 

He tapped his foot on the floor, staring at the ‘typing’.

Y/n: One more and you’re coming home, Matty.

Matty smiled. 

Matty: this is pure torture.

Y/n: you can do it!

Matty: not so sure 😶

Y/n: enjoy your time with the boys and the fans, okay? 

Matty: I’ll try. Gotta go, I love you x

Y/n: 😘💕

‘She loves me, she loves me’, Matty repeated for himself, leaving the device inside his pocket. He reached for his essentials items and walked towards the door.

He wished the day to end already, and to be back home with his girls.