#but cousins who Support Each Other nonetheless

[thatbadadvice]

Help! Death is inconvenient!

Dear Prudence, Slate, 6 December 2022:

Q. Bothersome Burials: Is it appropriate to hold a funeral on a Saturday? I have recently noticed that funerals are more frequently being held on Saturdays instead of weekdays and I think it is bad etiquette. On most Saturdays, we already have plans for weddings, baby showers, birthday parties, ski trips, softball tournaments, etc. and I am perturbed when we are expected to change those plans to attend funerals. It seems to me that when you lose someone very close to you that you should be taking time off of work anyway rather than waiting until your scheduled day off to have a funeral and grieve. When you lose an acquaintance, or perhaps do not know the deceased but still want to support your friends and family, you should be able to limit it to a few hours during the week and not give up your weekend plans. Also, it seems inconsiderate to make the funeral home and cemetery staff work on a Saturday. I believe that Saturdays should be off-limits, am I mistaken about this?

Dear Bothersome Burials,

Funerals should absolutely never be held on Saturdays, for all of the excellent reasons you describe. It is inconsiderate in the extreme to interrupt people's ski trips even for legitimate reasons (whatever they may be — nothing immediately springs to mind, but the Bad Advisor is sure someone somewhere will be able to drudge up an example). To derail a romp on the slopes for something as inconsequential as a community gathering to grieve the departure of a beloved friend or family member from the plane of existence as we know it frankly defies comprehension. For the snuffing out of one's mortal lamplight to cause scheduling conflicts around more minor commitments such as weddings and baby showers is naturally a lesser infraction — attendees can always simply RSVP to the next one, or the one after that — but nevertheless impolite. Of course, few will share your deep concern for the wellbeing of those death professionals who work on Saturdays despite undoubtedly being, as you are, shocked by and entirely unprepared to accommodate the customs and traditions surrounding the inevitable fate, old as life itself, that awaits all of us. But your selflessness is noted here nonetheless.

If you are mistaken about anything, it is in failing to interrogate the cause of these breaches of etiquette. There was a time when people treated each other with just a little more consideration — when we left our doors unlocked, our unvaccinated children played together barefoot in the streets until dawn, and we dropped dead when and only when it was convenient for people's busy weekend schedules. My mother would have rather died than shuffle off the mortal coil just before Little Maydelayne's big softball tournament! Sadly, people these days think only of themselves, their own needs, and their own petty concerns — to say nothing of their unwillingness to sacrifice a day of fun and fulfilling work to attend the final celebration of life for some douchebag who had the gall to kick the bucket without checking their second cousin's day-off calendar first. Grief is already experienced for only those fleeting moments we spend attending funeral services; it is unseemly to defer our limited 40- to 90-minute mourning periods until such a time as we can gather together in meaningful community.

Alas, that's the world we live in today! We can lay much of the blame on the obvious culprits — video games, reefer, and heavy metal music — but we would be doing ourselves a disservice if we did not admit that we are responsible for making time for what matters. The next time a cherished friend, loved one, or colleague sets off on that long, mysterious journey to the undiscovered country, we must prioritize the apres-ski reservations at the lodge bar.

[theitgirlnetwork]

Better

Ch. 7: 772 Miles

Note: I'm lateeee but I'm here nonetheless! Thank you all so much for all of the love and support. I love all of the likes, reblogs, comments, notes! I hope you all enjoy this one. We're making some headway and I hope to have more out soon. Some people have asked me about a taglist, which I'm gonna be real, I don't know how to do, but I will learn and then I will add whoever wants to be added to it! There is an awkward entry to a little explicitness in here so MDNI fr. Feel free to skip that part if you are an adult and just don't want it, anything important that is discussed during it will be brought up again! Once again, thank you so much <3

Picture Lip Took of Charlotte at the museum:

“You know, I’m starting to get a little offended by how you’re not excited Kev and I scraped together the rest of the money to get you home.” V says, pushing into Charlotte’s bedroom, plopping onto the bed next to a pink suitcase. “Did you get a lock for this?”

Charlotte pulls her white top over her head, careful not to let her makeup smear onto her outfit and smooths her hair again. “I’m very grateful, V, I’m just gonna miss you and Kev.” 

“Bullshit, me and Kev.” the woman grumbles, helping smooth out the back of her cousin’s shirt. “It’ll be good for you two to spend a couple of weeks apart, cool off a little.” 

The younger woman sighs, slinging her bag over her shoulder and stopping briefly to look at her cousin. “I’ve got to go. You’ll have shipped me off to Virginia and away from Phillip by tomorrow, okay?”

V softens at the look on Charlotte’s face. The girl had been so excited to be going home for Christmas when she and Kev surprised her with the other half of the money. She hadn’t even minded buying a one way ticket, considering she’d be going for a couple of weeks. But as the date of her departure pushed closer, the excitement turned into sadness and worry. 

She would hear her and Lip in the room throughout the week, on the nights he slept over, mumbling reassurances, arguing in hushed tones, exchanging promises. V doesn’t like raining on her baby cousin’s parade, but if she doesn’t ground her, who will? Charlotte’s always been a dreamer, her parents treated her like a little princess, and for good reason. V would only see her when her mother would take her to Virginia, her auntie and uncle refusing to let Charlotte come to Chicago. They kept her sheltered from the rest of their family, even watching closely how she and V played together. So Charlotte was not very…experienced. She didn’t think twice about people asking favors of her, borrowing money, leering at her. She lives in fairytale land, expecting everyone to be kind, accept apologies, have good intentions. And V watches her cousin be absolutely devastated when the world proves her wrong. 

Now that Charlotte was getting older, it was important that Charlotte learned to care for herself, it was necessary that she learned how to live in the real world. V loves her cousin, so she volunteered to take on that project. It was never part of her plan to throw her into the deep-end that is Lip Gallagher. V feels personally responsible for the inevitable fallout that would come from this relationship. All she can hope for is that these next few weeks will let the two young adults fizzle out, and clear their heads.

“I’m not against you, Lottie.” V says. Charlotte turns at that, going over and pulling the other woman into a familiar hug. One that reminds them both of being little girls, seeing each other for the first time in a year.

“I know, V.” she whispers.

“It’s only a couple of weeks, babe.” The older cousin soothes, rubbing her hand over Charlotte’s hair. The two of them hear the front door open, and Kev’s voice starts filling the living room.

“Not a scratch on my baby.” They find Kev in the living room, towering over Lip, who’s simply looking forward, clearly spacing out and ignoring what the older man is saying. “Or Charlotte. And get her to the airport on time.”

“Got it. Total the car and make sure Charlotte misses her flight.” Lip jokes, standing and reaching for the keys, sighing when Kev pulls them away. “Alright, man, I’m kidding. Thank you for this.”

Charlotte saddles up next to him, throwing her arms around Kev, hugging him tightly. “Thanks, Kev. I’ll miss you! I’ll be back soon.”

Kev looks down at her, brows softening and sighing as he makes eye contact with V. “Sure, kid.” He says, ruffling her hair. “Get goin’, traffic.”

Lip and Charlotte make their way outside, V and Kev watch from their porch as Lip opens the passenger door, boosting Charlotte in before nodding at them and going around to the driver’s side. As the car pulls off the couple looks over to the porch next door, finding Fiona sipping a beer, shaking her head before nodding them over.

“Are you excited?” Charlotte damn near bounces next to Lip as he studies the map at the front of the museum, determined to map out a route that will keep them away from the exhibits he had deemed not worthy of their time. He drags his finger along the line he intends to follow, his other hand clasped in Charlotte’s.

“Uh, yeah.” he says, deep in focus. Charlotte just smiles as she watches him mumble to himself about the most time effective way to get them through everything. Yeah, he is, she thinks to herself, letting him guide her to the first stop.

This whole thing is not really Charlotte’s style. Most of the exhibits are focused around science and that had never been her thing. She had been more of a social studies and reading girl herself, those subjects told more stories than required her ability to understand formulas. But she was so fucking happy she’d bought these tickets. Even though his expression is schooled into a nonchalant, moderately interested look most of the time, she could tell from how Lip’s eyes light up. 

He’s been looking at her differently since that day in the park. At first she’d thought it was the tickets. Then she’d thought it was the fact that she was leaving for a while, but neither seemed to describe how those bright blue eyes study her. Whatever it is, Charlotte wants to keep causing that look. 

So she leans against his chest and listens as he points out the different parts of the submarine exhibit, attempting to describe the mechanics of putting together something he’d apparently researched in his own time.  She asks, she’ll admit, stupid questions when he tries to explain the physics behind one of the displays, just sticking her tongue out at him when he looks away, snorting before composing himself and actually answering her. 

She gives him space as he observes the portraits of different scientists of all areas, reading the little bios. Charlotte wanders to the side, finding a picture she finds a little interesting and stopping to read the little paragraph on the plaque beside it. The sound of a camera phone clicking makes her turn around and look at him. “Did you just take a picture of me?”

“You look pretty.” he smiles, stepping forward and pulling her into his arms. “Gotta add to my collection, have somethin’ to look at when you’re gone.” 

Charlotte looks up at him smiling crookedly, “You have a collection of pictures of me on your phone? What’re you obsessed with me or somethin’?”

“Nah, you just won’t fuck me and I gotta do somethin’ to help me and my hand along-ow!” he laughs when she punches his chest, wincing at his muscle against her hand. Lip wraps his arm around her shoulders, bringing her in for a kiss. “Yeah, I’m obsessed with you or somethin’.”

The tenderness of the moment makes the ache that formed in Charlotte’s chest as soon as she’d purchased the ticket throb. She sighs, scrubbing her hand along her watering eyes. “I’m gonna miss you.”

Lip groans, running a hand through his hair before cupping her cheeks, thumbs sweeping across her cheeks. “Stop, bunny, we said we weren’t doing that anymore. Because if you cry, I’m going to say something you won’t like, and then we’ll start fighting and shit and I don’t wanna fight right before I drop you off.”

“I can’t help it!” she whines.

“Don’t go.” he replies.

“Stop saying that!”

“Stop crying-” Lip glances around at the other patrons of the museum retreating toward the front, the speaker letting them know it was closing soon and Charlotte silently sobs dropping her face to his chest. “Bunny.”

“Excuse me, sir, we’re closing soon, you all should start making your way to the exit.” A security guard says, approaching.

“Yeah, okay just gimme a second.” Lip sighs, rubbing Charlotte’s back.

“And now I have to go to the airport.” she cries into his shirt. “And you’re gonna leave me there.”

“Sir-”

“Alright man, give me a fucking second.” The blond yells at the guard, who was still grumbling about them holding up the museum closing up. “Charlotte,” he says softly, pushing her away lightly, looking at her large, teary eyes. “Hey, hey, we’ll talk right? I call you, you’ll call me. And it’s only a couple of weeks right? You promised you’d come back in a couple of weeks.”

“I am.”

“Okay, then we’ll be fine.” Lip relaxes a little as the girl slowly stops crying. He wipes away the remainder of the tear tracks on her face. “Right?”

“Right.” Charlotte sniffles. “Okay, I’m ready.”

The car ride to the airport is a quiet one. Both afraid to upset the other, they sit silently as music plays lowly on the radio. Lip’s hand rests on Charlotte’s thigh, squeezing reassuringly every couple of minutes. One of her hands is on top of his, playing with his fingers as the large airport pulls into their sight and the sound of planes taking off fills their ears. 

Lip pulls into the drop off area and puts the hazards on, facing forward and watching other poor fuckers wave a somber goodbye to their loved ones and is embarrassed to say that this is about to be him. He never envisioned himself to be the ‘drive you to the airport, kiss you all over your face, call me when you land no matter what time it is’ type. But here he was, murmuring those exact words into Charlotte’s ear after doing the first two things. He takes a deep breath after releasing her from his embrace and letting her walk a little ways away before shouting in front of the rest of the travelers, staff, and his fellow sad fuckers,

“Aye, Charlotte, tell that pilot to fly safe, alright? My fuckin’ girlfriend’s gonna be on that plane.”

He laughs as the girl pauses for a second before shoving her suitcase into one of the employee’s hands and running toward Lip, slamming into him so hard his back hits the car as she kisses him. Onlookers aww at their display, causing Lip to turn a little red as Charlotte continues to kiss him before finally letting him take a breath. She leans in, nuzzling her nose against his, sing-songing “Boyfriend~” and kissing him again. 

Charlotte fully pulls away a second later, Lip lets her literally slip through his fingers as she backs away toward the terminal, laughing when she calls back, “No take-backs, Gallagher! You’re mine now! Better still want me when we’re not a couple of miles apart!” she jokes.

Lip’s bright blue eyes follow her as far as they can until she disappears into the building. “772 miles. A couple.” he snorts despite himself, climbing back into the car and pulling off, cursing when he realizes he’s gonna have to face the exit traffic by himself.

The next morning Fiona’s few hours of sleep is interrupted by the sound of pots and pans clattering. At first she’d sleepily rolled over, assuming that it was Charlotte starting breakfast for the kids. She shoots up when she remembers that Lip had dropped her off the night before at the airport so it couldn’t be her.

Creeping along the hallway so as to not wake her siblings she grabs the bat, holding it up, ready to strike in case it’s an intruder. Or Frank. When she sees a bunch of random drawers pulled out, and the pillows for the couch on the floor, she grips the bat, preparing to swing when she sees a man’s form, sifting through the drawers. “Get the hell outta my house, motherfucker-!” she yells while swinging, stopping just short of Lip’s face.

“Shit, Fiona!” he yells back, catching the end of the bat in his hand and lowering it. “What the fuck?”

“Jesus.” she sighs, dropping the weapon altogether and running a hand through her hair. Fiona pushes past her brother, starting a coffee pot before turning around to look at him. “What the hell are you doing creepin’ around the house?” 

“Lookin’ for the money for phone minutes. I need to use it on mine.”

“Sorry.” Fiona says, pouring a mug and passing it to her brother and repeating the process for herself. “That became the acid fund when Monica and Frank stole it last month. You already out of minutes?”

Lip curses his parents under breath, shaking his head as he gulps down the coffee, slamming the mug down when he’s done. “Awesome. Well, when was the last time you heard from uh, Steve? Think he’ll have some work for me I can do like, today?” 

“Really? You think work from Steve is a good idea?” Fiona asks, pulling out the frozen waffles and plugging in Kev and V’s toaster. “I don’t want you mixed up in his shit, I’ve told you that before. Anyway, no, sorry, haven’t heard from him.” Her brother scratches his hair irritably, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and putting it between his lips, leaning forward when his sister produces a lighter for him. “You didn’t come home last night. You go out after droppin’ Charlotte off?”

“Drove around for a little bit, dropped the truck off and uh, went on a walk.” he blows out the smoke, working his jaw. “Fuckin’ road the bus up to the college to talk to Youens, trying to see if I could get an advance on the next few weeks and all the fucker wanted to do was lecture me about finding another internship. Wouldn’t front me the money.” 

“Well, what do you need the money for?” 

“Don’t worry about it.”

Fiona observes her brother, watching the stress rolling off of him, tense shoulders, chain smoking, eye doing that twitchy thing it does when he’s upset. There was no question of what was bothering him either. He’s checked his phone at least three times since this conversation started. “She’s comin’ back.” She puts her arms around her little brother’s shoulders. “She call to tell you she landed?”

“Yeah the flight is only 2 hours and 7 minutes, she called me 3 minutes after that. And again once she got to the house.” He sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“Little much, huh?”

“Uh,” Lip shrugs, embarrassed to admit that he felt the opposite, mumbling “Not really. I just uh, need some money to put more minutes on my phone, for the next few weeks. You know?”

Oh. Fiona thinks. She sees how miserable her brother looks and realizes she hadn’t really considered that he might be taking this seriously since this whole Charlotte debacle started. She and the rest of the kids are used to Lip getting himself wrapped up into semi-serious relationships, either thinking he’s in love or making someone else fall in love with him every couple of months. Each time something ruins it, whether it be his crippling commitment issues, nasty habit of cheating, unaddressed rage and on and off alcoholism, you name it. Or the occasional husband that the woman of the month has. It was shocking to think he’s run into that situation twice while he’s still so young, but Fiona couldn’t judge. 

She’s not sure what the nail in the coffin will be for Charlotte and Lip, and she still thinks that they’re a bad idea. But something about how upset the kid is makes her go into the coat closet, reaching up onto the top shelf and grabbing one of her old socks. She reaches in and produces a small wad of cash, dropping it into Lip’s hand. “It’s not much and I was gonna use it to get a jump on the heat bill for next month, so it’s just a loan.”

Lip looks down at the money before looking at his sister. “Yeah, okay, thanks.” He stands and gives Fiona a side hug, pressing a kiss into her hair. “Seriously, uh, thank you. I’ll pay you back.” He smiles to himself as he pulls his coat on, going to the door immediately to go to the store, pausing to look back. “I asked her to be my girlfriend by the way.”

As the door closes and she goes back to making food for her other siblings, Fiona wonders to herself what this go round will mean for her brother. And prays to whatever god that will listen that it’ll be something he can make it back from.

“And um, Kev and V are thinking about trying for kids soon. So that’s cool.” Charlotte shifts in her seat, trying to get comfortable. Her father doesn’t even bother to look up from his menu, his glasses low on his nose as he scans the booklet. Her mother offers her a small smile, putting up a finger and gesturing for her to wait. 

“That’s very good honey, just give us a second while we figure out what we’re getting.” 

The young woman nods, taking a sip of her water and looking around the restaurant. She hums quietly along to the instrumentals they were playing in the background. She’d told her parents that she didn’t need to go to a fancy dinner when she got home, that she’d prefer eating something at home with them, but they’d insisted saying they ‘didn’t know what type of nutrition she’d been getting in SouthSide with Kevin and Veronica’.  

“So you got a job?” Her dad finally asks as he snaps the menu closed, lifting his hand and summoning the waiter over with his finger. Charlotte hates when he does that. “Where?”

“Um, a restaurant, it’s actually pretty fun working there, Daddy, I like it-”

“He’ll have the filet mignon medium rare with the baked potato, none of the dressings, really, he has a cholesterol issue, don’t let them drown it in butter. I’ll have the snapper with a salad, we’ll share it, Charlotte, and she’ll have tomato soup with sliced broiled chicken and again…no butter.” Her mother cuts in. 

“Um, Mom-”

Her mother’s eyebrows shoot up, her eyes fixing on her. “What? Did you not want that?”

Charlotte wilts under the downturn of her mother’s lips, biting her own and shaking her head. Before the waiter can finish writing the orders her father is collecting the menus and shoving them into his hands. Both of her parents turn to her, who is mouthing a ‘thank you’ to the retreating waiter. 

“So Veronica is pregnant? And by that boyfriend of hers? Jesus, Carol what have you been doing?” her father groans, shaking his head in disappointment.

“They got married, Daddy.”

“I don’t remember going to any weddings. Or receiving any pictures of them in a church. Or hell, a courthouse. Veronica could be doing so much better. She’s such a beautiful, smart girl, always has been. Guess she inherited my sister’s habit of giving up opportunities to chase behind men from that shithole-”

“Victor.” Her mom mumbles, putting her hand over her husband’s arm. “Please, Veronica is doing us a favor helping out Charlotte, keeping an eye on her. Besides, she’s only in her twenties. She’s still got time. Now, Lottie, baby, what else have you done? Made any friends?”

Charlotte takes another gulp of her water, squeezing her phone in her lap as she thinks about how to approach this topic. “I um, the girls at work are really nice most of the time, so we talk. And V’s friends are great, like Fiona and her siblings. She has this brother Ian who’s really great and I have fun with him-”

“Not too much fun.”

She sighs, smoothing her hand over her hair she has slicked into a bun. “No, Ian is gay, Mom. He has a boyfriend. Mickey. Who is also…nice” Sorta. 

“Good.” her mom chirps.

Taking a breath, Charlotte’s mouth opens and closes as she fights with herself internally. She missed her parents so much. She was reunited with them after being apart for the longest time, and she doesn’t want to ruin it. But she knows what they’ll say if she tells them about Lip. How they’ll act. What they might do. But then she reminds herself of the whole point of her moving to Chicago. She was supposed to be growing the fuck up, and that included telling her parents she was was in a relationship. “And I’m, now I’ve-”

“Have you found a doctor out there yet?” Her father’s question takes all of the wind out of Charlotte’s sails. She immediately deflates, looking down at the table and huffing out a breath in irritation. “Baby, it’s important. I’ll look up some names and give them to you before you go back in a couple weeks. Don’t let me forget okay?” 

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Good. Now, I wonder how long it’s gonna take for us to get some damn food.”

Charlotte hears her mother head out for the day, the front door closing and immediately dives for her phone. Her dad had gone to work early that morning and for the first time in the two and a half weeks she’s been home, she hasn’t been home alone. 

It was cute at first. Watching movies with her dad, baking sweets with her mom. Going to the mall together, church, the country club that she’d always hated because they were just barely rich enough to go and her parents always felt the need to overcompensate. It was embarrassing to say the least. And Charlotte was tired. 

But most of all, she missed her boyfriend.

So she runs up the stairs to her childhood room, closes the door and flops on the bed, dialing her new favorite number.

Lip picks up on the second ring, and a smile spreads across her face as soon as she hears the familiar, “Hi, baby.”

“Hello, boyfriend, you busy?”

“Uh…” On Lip’s end he’s balancing the phone between his cheek and his shoulder, his hands busy with hurriedly unscrewing the rims from an expensive car that someone made the arrogant choice of parking too close to the line where SouthSide begins. “No.”

“You sure? What’re you doing?”

Lip grunts as he loads the rims into Mickey’s trunk before closing it, slamming it closed and patting the back, letting him know he was good to pull off. “Just got finished stealin’ the rims off a car.”

Charlotte sits up abruptly, eyes widening. “Really? Phillip-”

“‘M kiddin’ bunny. I’m just headin’ home, how have you been?”

“Since we last talked this morning? Missed you, got my nails done with my mom, had lunch with some girls I used to cheer with, missed you some more, called.” she shrugs. 

Lip smiles at that, keys jangling in his hands as he pushes into his house, mouthing a ‘hi’ to Debbie and taking Liam from her arms. “Yeah? Your other boyfriend not keepin’ you entertained?”

“Now, if I play along, you know it’s like you pissed yourself off right?” Charlotte says. 

Liam’s head lifts at her voice and he starts trying to take the phone. “Who’s that? Who’s that, buddy? Baby, say hi to Liam.”

“Hi, Liam!” she says sweetly. “I miss you!” making kissing sounds into the phone.

“Lottie!” the little boy giggles, blowing a kiss back.

Lip places his brother in his playpen and rubs his head before walking up the steps. “Okay, enough of that, you wanna keep talkin’ to Liam, you better call his phone. Or better yet, come home.”

“I’m working on it. I talked to my Dad today about some return flights earlier this morning, so we’re making progress. Before, he wouldn’t even let me work it into conversation.” 

“Yeah, I guess that’s somethin’.” Lip sighs, closing his room door behind him and sitting on his own bed. He’s been trying to be as patient as possible, especially since he didn’t know them, but Charlotte’s parents were doing exactly what he’d thought they’d do, drag their feet on sending her back. Hell, it’s what he would do. It took every ounce of selflessness he had, which was not much, combined with the fear of what V would do if her money was wasted, for him not to purposefully make her miss her flight out there. He’d understand them never wanting her to come back. But it’d fucking suck for him. 

Charlotte hears the other side of the phone go quiet and knows Lip is worrying about the same thing she was last week. What if her parents changed their minds? What if they decided they didn’t want her moving away, regardless of whether V was checking on her or not. “Careful, Gallagher, I might think you miss me or something.”

“You’re funny.” he scoffs, staring at his ceiling. “And I do.”

“Well, how’s that photo collection working for you?”

“It’s uh, a lot more effective when my bed smelled like you, but the pictures are pretty fuckin’ hot, so, s’working pretty well.”

Charlotte feels her cheeks heat up and rolls her eyes as if he can see her. “They’re mostly candid shots of me walkin’ around your house or mine, they can’t be that hot.”

“They’re of you.” Lip says matter of factly. As if it wasn’t something to be discussed. Just a fact..

The woman shifts again, playing with the strings of her hoodie absently as she mutes the phone briefly, Lip’s quiet breathing on speaker in her room as she sorts out what she’s gonna say next. Taking the phone off of mute she takes a breath, gathering her courage. “So, does that mean you don’t need any…help?”

She sits, staring at her phone nervously as she waits for his reply. There’s a beat of silence that makes her stomach twist uncomfortably until it dissipates at the sound of Lip’s laughter filling her room.

“Are…are you trying to initiate phone sex with me?” he wheezes, cackling into the phone. Charlotte yelps, taking the phone off of speaker and putting it to her ear.

“Fuck you, not anymore!” 

Lip smirks to himself on the opposite end, trying to choke down his laughter. He wasn’t laughing at her per se. Well, actually, he was a little. But aside from that, the fact that she was nervous was what made him laugh. The irony of it all. Lip had been all but begging her for a crumb of pussy since he’d met her. Once they had gotten to that weird limbo of pretending to be just friends, she’d opened the door to making out and heavy petting, but Lip was letting her take the lead. Even now, he never wants to push, he’s always pushed, but now, he was happy with what they were doing. Well, not actually, but he was willing to wait for her. 

The fact that she’d be hesitant, or think they live in some kind of alternate universe where Lip might not want it, was hilarious. Either, she doesn’t know him very well, or his girl doesn’t know how sexy she is. Both options seem ridiculous.

“No, I’m sorry, come on, set the mood, bunny, m’ready.”

“No,” she whines, “I already don’t know how and now you’ve laughed at me. You fuckin’ do it.”

He chuckles lowly again as he pushes off of his bed to lock the door. “Well, I really miss you. I miss seeing you. Touching you. Waking up to you in the morning, being on top of you.” Lip listens for the change in Charlotte’s breathing, trying to focus on the task at hand and not let this end almost immediately because he’s envisioning what she’s going to be doing on the other end of the phone. “Take your pants off for me, bunny?”

“Already did.” she breathes. “And if you laugh, I’ll hang up.”

Lip starts undoing the buttons on his own pants, nodding as if she could see him. “Nothin’ to laugh at. Good job, baby.” A sound on the other side of the phone makes his brows go up as he spits into his hand. “Yeah? You like me tellin’ you how good you are? Gotta talk to me, sweetheart.” 

“I miss you too, how you take care of me,” Lip bites his lip and takes himself out of his boxers as she whimpers into his ear. “Kissin’ you.”

“Fuck.” Lip groans quietly, rubbing his hand along his dick, smoothing his thumb over the tip, sweeping over the precum forming there. He hears every lilt in Charlotte’s voice as he feels himself already building. He keeps trying to remind himself to talk to her, trying not to be too dirty because he doesn’t know her style yet and not just moan into the mic. He grits out praises lowly. ‘Good girl’ ‘C’mon baby’ ‘So fuckin good, so fuckin’ sexy’.

But he keeps being distracted by the sounds that she’s making, the sound of his name. He’s never been so thankful to Monica and Frank for naming him Phillip because the sound of that name rolling off of his girlfriend’s tongue could make any man nut. 

He hears her voice pitch even higher and he knows that she’s close. That delicious pressure is building in his lower stomach and sinks his teeth into his lower lip. “K-keep talkin’ baby, a little more, let me hear you bunny. You takin’ care of yourself over there”

“Yes, fuck Phillip, m’gonna cum.”

Shit does he want that. He’s never wanted anything more. But then that goddamn number starts floating around in his head. 772 goddamned fucking miles. Fucking two weeks. No, don’t think about this now. Focus. He begs his own mind not to piss him off. Sweat slides down his temple as he tightens his grip on himself and lets her whimpers ring in his ears. Lip groans, pleading with himself not to miss this opportunity. Something is fucking missing. This isn’t fuckin’ enough. I need…I fucking-

Lip puts his phone on speaker, Charlotte’s cries fill the room and he literally edges himself as his fingers fumble with his phone in his free hand. Blue eyes light up as they find what they’re looking for. “Okay, come on baby, cum with me.” he grunts.

Lip’s abs clench as he comes into his hand, trying to contain the mess as much as possible and muffle his moans so his siblings can’t hear what he’s doing. He settles into a groan of Charlotte’s name, biting back following it with three words that have been rattling around in his brain for a while now. He tries to commit the sounds Charlotte is making to memory, feeling pride in his chest at knowing he caused it, and a paired feeling of emptiness knowing he couldn’t pull her to him now that they’re done. 

Sitting up, he reaches on the ground, grabbing a discarded t-shirt, wiping his hands off on it and putting it back on the floor. 

“Phillip?” a small voice calls out. His attention is brought back to his phone, briefly smiling at the picture he’d left open on it before frowning again as he hears something strange in Charlotte’s voice. “Are you still here?”

“Yeah, m’still here, bunny.” The weakness of her voice forces a softness into his own. 

“Can we talk a little now?”

“Yeah, yeah, I can talk to you.” Lips says, furrowing his brows at the sound of Charlotte’s voice. There’s a meekness that makes his stomach drop as he scoots up on his bed, suddenly feeling the need to both cover himself and rob someone for the little bit of money to buy a ticket to fuck ass Virginia. “You okay, baby?”

A shaky breath is released on the other line and there is silence for a moment, the blond pulls the phone from his ear to check to see if the call disconnected, hurriedly placing it back when he hears her again. “M’fine. I…um, like that you call me that. I like bunny too.”

Lip releases his own breath as he hears her voice become a little more normal, letting himself smile again as he lights a joint. “I know you do.” 

“So fucking full of yourself.” she giggles, the sound making Lip feel like the sun shining directly into his room. 

“Aye, watch your mouth. You must have some bad influences out there, what happened to my sweetheart?” he says, trying to light the blunt quietly.

“You curse every other word.” she hums. “But, I was thinking.”

“Interesting.”

“Phillip.” 

“Okay, sorry, Charlotte, go.” He snickers, reaching for his ashtray on his nightstand, flicking ash and relighting the blunt. Lip grunts, pushing off of the bed, unlocking the door and peaking out to listen to hear if Liam was crying, satisfied to close it again when he isn’t.

“You need a nickname,” Charlotte says, the sound of her rustling around in her own bed making its way through the phone. “I’ve got like five. Baby, sweetheart, bunny, sweet thing, and the mean one-”

“Woah, what do I call you that’s mean?” 

“Um, brat?” she snarks.

Lip rolls his blue eyes, settling back on his bed, unable to contain the smile on his face. “That’s not one of your nicknames, that’s more like an uh, assessment of your behavior.” 

“Regardless! I wanna give you a nickname. How about Lippy?”

His lips curl in disgust, the actual shock at the name making him cough on the smoke, breathing it out through his nose. “Yeah, I will not fuckin’ answer to that.” 

She laughs again mumbling a, ‘yes you would’  and Lip is irritated by the fact that despite fucking hating it, he would answer to whatever she called him as long as she kept calling. “Pookie? Pooh Bear?”

“Am I Liam?”

“Bubba, or bubs, or bub! For short!”

“What happened to boyfriend, huh? You liked that?” he groans.

“Boyfriend isn’t going away.” Charlotte says, and Lip can basically picture the smug smile on her face she always makes when she’s about to get her way. “He’s just gonna be joined by bubba.” 

The blond is humiliated by what he’s become. Cringing to himself he prays to any god that will listen that Ian and Mickey never manage to hear Charlotte chirp out his newfound pet name and mourns the version of himself that would never let a girl call him anything but Lip. “Bubba, that’s what you like?”

“And babe. Mostly bubba and boyfriend. What’d you think I was gonna call you? Daddy?” she says in a playful seductive voice. Unaware that on the other side of the line her boyfriend was adjusting himself.

“Not unless you’re down to go again.”

“Hmm, unfortunately my mom should be home soon.” Charlotte sighs. Lip immediately feels that ache in his chest again, never really thinking about the lows of her hanging up that come with the highs of their phone calls. “I miss you, bubba.”

He nods as if she can see him, mouth opening and closing, he wills down the want to beg her to stay on the phone. “Miss you too, princess. You forgot one.”

“That one’s Mickey’s.” she laughs.

“Nah,” Lip says softly into the phone. “They’re all mine.” 

The couple reluctantly hangs up and Lip’s head is racing. Full of thoughts of Charlotte, distance and new territory. He’s never been here before. He doesn’t know how to navigate being the type of boyfriend Charlotte deserves. He doesn’t think he’s ever been a boyfriend before, and now he was going to have to be a long distance one?  He couldn’t do this. He needed her to come home. Charlotte needs to come home.

He’s shaken from his thoughts by the sound of his phone vibrating again. And because he’s fuckin’ whipped now, a smile immediately spreads across his face as he grabs it without looking, happy that Charlotte missed him enough to call back so fast. “Missed me already, bunny?”

“Oh..um, is this a bad time, Phillip?” 

Lip pauses, unable to register what’s happening as he holds the phone against his ear as the only other woman he’s ever let call him Phillip waits for him to say something. Anything. 

“Phillip?”

“Helene?”

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Caranthir the financial advisor from hell

The guards of Nargothrond glanced from side to side as if to ask each other ‘Is this allowed?’ They’d had three Feanorians staying with them for a while now but they were still unclear on the protocol for dealing with one of them just turning up at the gates. Nonetheless, they parted to let him through with little protest once their commanding officers gave them the go ahead.

He did not respond to their hesitance, to their great relief, none wished to be on the receiving end of that glare of his. He strode forward with a simple nod of acknowledgment to their general, his boots clicking evenly on the marble floor and somehow managing to echo through the corridor despite the background noise of a bustling city. Did all their nobility have some kind of powers when it came to being excessively dramatic? They’d thought their king was overly theatrical but the Feanorians all seemed to be as well, albeit in different ways.

He made his way straight through the corridors to the ongoing council meeting. This was concerning for numerous reasons, not the least of which being that everyone was fairly sure he had never been to Nargothrond before, so how could he possibly know their floor plan, let alone their schedule? Nevertheless, he flung open the doors and stood in the doorway, his glare at his cousin perhaps not as intense as his father’s but enough to terrify most into submission.

‘Moryo!’ Celegorm began to grin, the sight not even remotely reassuring to anyone. The two other sons of Feanor seemed way too at ease, but then who could ever claim to understand what was going on with that lot? Caranthir shot a far harsher yet somehow fond glare towards his brothers, ‘Tyelkormo. Atarinkë,’ he replied with little enthusiasm. ‘It’s been years, would it kill you to write, brother!’ Celegorm teased jovially. ‘I wasn’t aware you could read. Brother.’

A little snort broke the tense silence and the only grandson of Feanor beamed at his uncle through his amusement, ‘It’s good to see you uncle.’ Caranthir shot his nephew a quick smile and softened his tone, ‘A pleasure as always Tyelpe darling.’ He now brought his focus back to Finrod who was apprehensive as if he knew what was coming, the same as the Feanorians who were all giving each other conspiratorial glances. ‘Ingoldo. Findarato. My dear cousin.’

‘I have recently received your yen’s expenses report.’ ‘Holy shit,’ murmured Celegorm under his breath though still very much audibly, the grin on his face growing to troubling levels. ‘You have truly outdone yourself. Really.’ Finrod was turning gradually paler. ‘Why do you have access to documents from Nargothrond’s treasury?’

‘Because all our relatives have been delegating financial matters to me since I was forty. You didn’t think Fingon could actually draft a budget for his army himself did you? And Nelyo can’t barely do long division. They may say that something is for the king’s eyes only but what they really mean is it’s for Fingon to send my brother in between some graphic sketches and love letters and then for Nelyo to send to me once he’s exhausted his energy for calculations.’

‘And I have to wonder if you have a single person in your council capable of basic budgeting skills or if you simply regularly ignore expenditure plans to support your jewellery problem. I’m guessing the latter. So I have taken the liberty of drafting a comprehensive plan for all your financial dealings for the next yen and I expect you to follow it.’ He slammed a heavy tome onto the table, ‘I’m trusting Curufin to make sure you don’t deviate too far.’

‘Caranthir, it’s hardly like you’re living in some austere shack yourself!’ Caranthir shot a cold glare back, ‘Unlike you I manage my money. I am giving you the chance to do the same and I advise you take it.’ He stalked over to his family and accepted a kiss on the forehead from Celegorm before placing one on Curufin and Celebrimbor’s. ‘Three Cs for life!’ Celegorm called after him, still way too pleased to see his cousin get scolded. ‘That’s never going to catch on!’ Came the synchronised yells of Curufin and Caranthir.

[writingonleaves]

and there are some days when i think that, somewhere, you're watching - the blue au

universe: the blue au

warnings: cancer, grief, sadness, the usual with anything to do with the blue au's premise lol

title: "chemtrails" by lizzy mcalpine

word count: 1.1k

author's note: lol hey!! there are a million other wips i should be working on but here we are! if you haven't read at least the first part of this au yet, you probs should for context. we are also manifesting here all three hughes brothers make it to the olympics. inspired by the beautiful players tribune article kevin hayes wrote for his late brother jimmy. i thought a lot about which brother would write something like this and ended up settling on quinn <3 enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

*****

The Ones We Play For 

for The Players Tribune 

by Quinn Hughes 

Written February 4, 2026

I’ll never forget the first time I put on a USA jersey for an international competition. 

It was for the 2015 World Under-17 Challenge when I had just turned 16. I didn’t think much of it at the time. The only thing I thought about was playing well, but it was an honor nonetheless. 

Every time you get the opportunity to represent your country in any way, it’s an honor. I know everyone says it, but it’s true. The whole nation is looking at you and cheering you and your teammates on. The playing of the anthem means more than ever. You look at the jersey and feel like you’re part of something bigger.

Next week, hockey at the 2026 Winter Olympics in Milano-Cortina will begin. I’ve always dreamed of being about to play at the Olympics, but now that it’s actually here, it’s surreal. 

The team is great, and I feel lucky to even be here. As I look around at my teammates, I feel confident that we can bring home a gold medal. But it’ll take hard work. That’s nothing that we don’t know though. 

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it means to put on the jersey and who we wear it for. Of course, I think I speak for every single person at these Olympics when we say we wear it for our country and the fans watching us, whether here in Italy or back home. 

But we’re all playing for someone in our own support group. The village that has brought each of us here.

First, my parents, who have been there since the very first day. My mom, who taught me how to skate and my dad, who taught me how to see the game. My extended family: my grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and family who aren’t technically family but who might as well be. Everyone in my life who’s always offered support and encouraging words, who has sat in cold rinks and watched me play. Whether they’re here in Italy or watching from various parts of the world, I’m playing for them. 

I’m also playing for my brothers, who will be on the ice with me. That’s still crazy for me to think about. We never could’ve imagined this when we were playing mini sticks in the basement as kids. Of course, we dreamed about it. But to see it come to reality? I feel very grateful. In the locker room, I look at Jack on my right and then Luke at my left. We’re playing for each other. 

But most importantly, I’m playing for Miguel Sandoval. 

I don’t talk about Miguel often, but he was one of the most important people in my life. Still is. He met my parents before I was born and automatically became a second father to me. To be honest, I don’t think I talk about him often because it still hurts to think about. 

Miguel was one of my biggest cheerleaders from the beginning. The fact that he’s not alive to see me take the ice next week is, well, it’s a lot of things. Sad is the first word that pops to mind. Unfair is another. The one who was at the rink next to my father in the stands before I even really knew how to play hockey isn’t alive to see me play in the Olympics? There’s no words to describe how devastating that is. 

He never got to see me play in any USA jersey, even though he was always confident I would put one on eventually. He died of pancreatic cancer on New Year’s Day, 2015. 

It’s been over 11 years without him, but he’s still in everything I do. A huge part of the reason I wear 43 is because of him — his birthday is April 3. I still remember his boisterous laugh and his kind eyes. He wrote Jack, Luke and I letters before he died that were specifically addressed to be given to us on our draft days. I still carry mine with me on every road trip. That’s how long and how strongly he believed in us. Somehow, he just knew that we would be drafted long before it happened. 

I have every word of that letter memorized. Sometimes, I trace over his handwriting with my thumb, and it feels like he's still with us.

During his brief battle with cancer, even when his body had almost no strength left, he always greeted us with a smile and an enthusiastic greeting. Even when he was advised not to, he made it to the games he could until his last days. To the very last day, he lived life with the biggest smile on his face.

If anyone should be here to see his “talented boys” take on the ice, it’s him. Not everyone is lucky enough to have someone like Miguel who loved them so unconditionally. I’m grateful for the time I had with him, even if I desperately wish it was more. We weren’t his sons by blood, but he treated us like family. But sometimes life is unfair, and we have to hold on to the fact that everything happens for a reason.

Here’s a reason: Miguel’s wife, Maeve, who is like a second mother to me, will be watching from Boston. Maeve is the best, always keeping it lighthearted and reminding me that life is supposed to be lived to the fullest. She has this youthful energy that’s just so infectious. She’s the one who always reminds me that hockey is supposed to be fun. I wouldn't be half the person I am today without her support.

And then their daughter, Clementine. Clem, I call her. Jack calls her Clee and Luke calls her Clemmy. Clem’s my best friend / older sister — the universal older sister, to be honest. It doesn’t matter if our last names aren’t the same. She’s been there for me ever since I could remember. Even when we were states, sometimes countries, away, I knew that if I called her, she’d always pick up. Currently on the journey to becoming a doctor, Clem is the kindest, most intelligent, most selfless and strongest woman I’ve ever met. She was the one who lost her father, but she made sure that all of us were okay. Even now, she can’t ever seem to take off the big-sister hat. But I wouldn’t have her any other way. 

Miguel, wherever you are, I can tell you a few things. First, I promise that we’re taking care of your wife and daughter as best as we can. We’re gonna try our best to get to the final rounds of this tournament so that they can fly out and watch us play. We love them and they’ll always be family. Second, whenever I feel a bit lost or need to be grounded, I think of you and your calm demeanor and bear hugs. I wish I could have just one more hug. Squeeze you one more time.

Miguel, when I put on that USA jersey and step on the ice, I will be playing for you. Jack, Luke and I will all be skating for you.

We miss you. 

We love you.

This is for you.

Yours, 

Quinn

[reginarubie]

Girl, Rhaenyra doesn't even have an idea how those hands were *used* some time ago 🤡 I'm sorry princess but your precious flawless kiddo maimed his uncle and the latter suffers from chronic pains let alone he lost an eye!

Rhae is all ✨uncle rights ✨only when it comes to Daemon.

Hi @wildfieldz!

I think therein lays Rhaenyra biggest flaw. She is blind to her children's flaws. If they wanted me to feel sympathetic for them and supporting of her, I would've wanted to be shown a scene in which Rhaenyra sat down her sons and gave them an earful for what they had done.

As I kid I inadvertently once, pushed another child and he broke his ankle, though I had not done it on purpose, as we were merely playing my parents gave me the earful of my life. And not because it was my fault and I had meant to do it, but because I had been careless and someone had gotten hurt. They told me I had to be more careful and not engage in those physic plays — we were pushing each other around, I was bit wild in my youth since I lived in a little town with mostly boys my age and only another girl — where people risked to get hurt.

Imagine if I had purposefully got into a scuffle — four to one, nonetheless — and purposefully hurt somebody else. I tell you I would have been made apologize, understand my mistake and grounded for the rest of my childhood, to the very least.

What they did was cruelty. They picked on Aemond continuously because he had no dragon, the bullied him and whilst it had never turned actually physical by what we've seen, when Aemond actually proved he was above their bullying, when he showed them their bullying had only made him bolder and stronger they ganged up on him again.

And whilst I could excuse Baela and Rhaena as they were grieving for their mother and her dragon was the only last they had to her, beyond each other and I can understand their rage, especially since they lived him claiming Vhagar as him “stealing” their mother's dragon, a good parent would've sat them down, held them through their grief and told them violence is not the answer.

Jacaerys and Lucerys do not hold the excuse of having just lost their mother. They don't show us if they were close with Laena, what they show us is two bullies who see their victim finally becoming virtually untouchable — they could only bully him because he was the only one without a dragon and now not only he commands a dragon but he also has claimed the oldest, largest and strongest dragon alive — and are rageful because as of now they've lost their pride and the victim they could pick on.

The confidence boost Aemond received by proving everyone wrong — remember in the books it says that Aemond was spurned even further to try and claim Vhagar because his own father taunted him about not having a dragon and try to have the backbone to try and claim one if he managed, which is even worse, but I digress — and claiming Vhagar (and be claimed in return, because girl is a big ass dragoness who can make her choices) also helps him stand up to his bullies.

Yeah, he could've been gentler to the girls because they had just lost their mother, but it's not his responsibility to teach his cousins/nephews how to control their own rage. And yeah they fight and children fight, even thought they ganged up on him four-to-one, kicking him and attacking him whilst he was down and still Aemond got the upper hand. And still, despite that, despite them ganging up on him in such a cruel way, he says hurtful things (the truth), but he stops. Even when he can actually harm them — when he has the rock in his hand and the upper hand — he stops. He's reluctant to actually harm them beyond the scuffle.

Does that stops them? No. Jace — who brought a knife to a fists fight — waits for his little brother to take the knife to momentarily blind Aemond with sand and attack him.

They wanted to wound him in the same way he had hurt their pride by claiming Vhagar and standing up to them.

If I had done something remotely similar I would have been grounded to the next life. My parents would've had a very stern talk with me and you better believe I would have to apologize to the dude I had harmed.

Instead Rhaenyra defends them, and that's fine, that's right, but then she is never shown as reprimanding her sons for what they did. She never teaches them that's not the way one ought to act, what her sons did was her responsibility (not only because she put them in that situation herself, but because she was not looking after her kids as she ought to have but was busying herself with her own uncle — but ehi!, ✨uncle rights✨, right? — and she failed as a parent since her children acted that way to begin with. What is worse she doesn't even address this failure, but lets things going stale and the hatred to cement even further).

Aemond was permanently disabled because of what Lucerys and Jacaerys did purposefully even after he had showed he was not a real threat, by always hesitating before harming them, though he could have. And Rhaenyra never actually addressed it.

How do we know she hasn't? Because if she had, at the dinner scene after her children her saw her toast to her enemy — Alicent — and be graceful, had they been taught what they had done was wrong they would have tried to do something similar. Would it have served something? Maybe not, but it would've shown Rhaenyra actually is a good leader, because a good leader knows how to unite people and how to guide them to do the right thing.

That boy had been permanently disabled, and people at the time could die of the loss of an eye, because of all kinds of infections. Her sons got what? Some bruises and a broken nose? And not the stern earful of their life they should have received.

Uncle rights works like women rights for Rhaenyra. Only as long as it advantages her.

Passo e chiudo.

Thank you for dropping by! Sending all my love ~G.

[calxide]

⋆⁺ [ 038 ] kiss me when you're sober, darling

warning/s: drinking alcohol, not proofread (i just let Grammarly do its magic lol) pls lmk if there's any more | w/c: 1.7k words

read under the cut!

After signing a ton of papers for the company partnerships, you finally got up from your seat and went out of the room you were in. Kazuha fixed the documents for you, seeing how tired you looked, and followed suit after you. He shoots you a smile before giving you a quick side hug as if saying congratulations. After all, this was your first time doing such a thing by yourself without your mother's help or your mother on your side. Thus, this should be considered an achievement for you and Kazuha.

You thanked Kazuha multiple times before and after though he had told you to shrug it off, and it was his duty to accompany you anyway. Nonetheless, you were grateful that he was always by your side. Although you two are not real siblings, being cousins made you extremely close to each other; because of all the events that have happened in the past, you started treating each other like real siblings. He was a good big brother to you, as you were a kind little sister to him. You both cherished each other; if ever there's a time one of you feels down, the other will do their best to act as a supporting pillar.

"See? I told you you can do it."

You scoffed at Kazuha's statement. You shrugged your shoulders, not wanting to take any compliments he gave. "Yeah, because I'm pretty sure Childe has pulled some strings for us."

Kazuha nudged you at your shoulder. He just wanted you to accept your achievements and be proud of what you accomplished. But he knew he couldn't convince you either way; sometimes, he'll ask you if you ever take any compliments, but you'd always laugh it off.

You two continued your way to the location where the party was being held. It started half an hour ago; while you were still inside the room, signing papers for your company. The venue was already packed to the brim with guests and even more.

People were dancing, drinking, laughing, and singing along to the songs being played. All in all, people seemed rather relaxed, enjoying themselves. This was a business party but… it seemed livelier. You supposed that Childe must have had invited friends that he has that were heirs from other companies who brought their friends along with them.

You were greeted by Xingqiu, who had a big smile on his face, whom you assumed had consumed a huge amount of alcoholic beverages already, by the way he talked and how his face was crimson.

"Oh, Y/N! You're finally here," he clings to your arm like a little kid and drags you to the buffet area. You signaled Kazuha to follow you to where Xingqiu might bring you. You'd not want to fall to one of his pranks at such a big party.

Once settling down to your table with a dinner plate in your hands, Childe greeted you. "Y/N! You did great during the meeting."

You smiled, "I couldn't have done it without the help of all of you." Indeed, Xingqiu has been a big help to you.

"Well, we're here to support you," Xingqiu replied as he took his first bite into his meal. You chuckled, knowing that he wasn't eating the actual food he had put inside his mouth. Seeing as he could barely swallow anything right now because of the strong alcohol he had been drinking since earlier, you supposed that he would pass out soon.

Suddenly, someone had placed their hand on your shoulder. You turned your head back and saw Ayaka with a huge smile on her face.

"Congratulations! I've heard from my brother about your achievement," she said with a huge smile on her face as she gave you a hug and settled down beside you. She greeted the three boys, and they greeted her back.

Her older brother, Ayato, was also in the meeting earlier, although he left much earlier than you after signing the documents that he had to sign. Having known Ayaka for years, it was actually the first time you had seen his brother up close and for such a long time. Normally, you would only see him greet you and Ayaka, and that's it. Additionally, he's always busy with school work.

"Thank you, Ayaka. It's nice to see you here."

The five of you continued to eat your dinner while having small chats. You were glad that Ayaka had finally relaxed in the presence of the other three. She managed to hold and join in with the conversations.

As soon as you all finished eating, Childe handed everyone a glass filled with an alcoholic beverage. You gave Ayaka a look as if asking if she would be drinking along. She only chuckled and took the glass into her hand, and you did the same.

"For the success of everyone's company, and of course, our friendships," Childe started.

"Cheers!" The five of you raised your glasses. Everyone clinked the glasses together. You took a small sip from the glass while Xingqiu drank everything in one go.

"It tastes so sweet, but not too bitter," Xingqiu commented. Ayaka laughed as she nodded in agreement.

"Not enough." He grabbed the bottle of wine and poured it into his glass and yours.

You raised your eyebrow and scoffed. "Come on, Y/N. You gotta drink more." Xingqiu giggled, giving you a sign that he was terribly drunk.

"Oh, please, Xingqiu. Fine, just one." You downed the glass in one go and immediately regretted what you'd just done. The moment it went down you felt something in your stomach trying to jump out. The sensation was intense, but it disappeared soon. You took another deep breath and shook your head, signaling you were fine. You didn't bother drinking anything else.

"Weak." You smacked both Kazuha and Xingqiu's heads when you heard them say that.

"Whatever. I'm going to go get some fresh air." You heard Kazuha warned you to stay safe or else he'll steal your money as soon as you turned your back on them. You shoot him a middle finger as a response to his statement; you hear them laugh in response.

You made your way to the balcony outside the building and found no one outside. Most probably because they were either inside having fun or drinking. The night sky was breathtaking, with stars and moon peeking through the clouds that floated across the blue sky. The wind blew softly against your face. For a minute, you leaned against the railing and enjoyed the feeling of the cool breeze caressing your cheeks. The view, especially the beautiful starry night scenery, made you feel calm.

Your thoughts drifted away from the present as you let your mind wander off to wherever it pleased. You sighed. It was indeed relaxing to just relax and not do a single thing but enjoy the peacefulness and quiet you felt. You closed your eyes. If there were any troubles to worry about, then they'd probably be the problems that came out of your mouth every once in a while.

A voice called you out of your trance. "Hey, are you alright?" You quickly looked over your shoulder to find Kazuha standing beside you, looking concerned. He gave you a worried look. You nodded your head, telling him that you were alright. Then, you smiled at him in assurance. He returned a genuine smile.

"I'll leave you alone for peace of mind, then." He patted your shoulder lightly before disappearing behind a corner of the balcony, walking back into the direction of the banquet room where your friends are located.

You appreciated how he wanted to give you space at the moment, but you knew that you needed someone to tell them about your problems. You sighed; you knew it wasn't his fault for doing so. After all, you always shut him out in the past whenever you have problems. Claiming that you want time and space whenever you feel down after having stupid fights with your mother.

A voice called out your name softly. You turned around to see a familiar face.

"Hey… Scara," you greeted back with a smile on your face.

Scaramouche was wearing a black coat and a pair of white trousers, with a simple button-up shirt underneath that looked as if it was tailored specifically for him. He approached you and leaned on the railings, copying what you were doing.

"What are you doing here?" You asked.

He scoffed jokingly as he turned his gaze to you, "I'm here to congratulate you. Dumbass, of course, Childe invited me beforehand."

You laughed. It felt good to laugh after all this stressful week that you've been enduring. You were happy with yourself. Even though things haven't really gone well at work lately, things are getting better. You were able to pull through with it somehow. You were thankful for your friends. They kept you sane throughout the times when you weren't.

"The view here sure is nice. They picked the right venue," you commented, to which Scaramouche nodded.

He noticed your words slurred a little and how your eyes seemed unfocused. Were you drunk? He supposed that you probably had a fair share of alcohol inside before making your way here to get some air.

"Hey, are you drunk?"

Questioning the obvious, you shrug and laugh. "Probs." And so, you began to chuckle again. It was clear to him that you were drunk.

Scaramouche sighs and looks up to the sky. He supposed that you were a little tipsy, but it was nothing that he had never experienced before. What was surprising to him was the fact that you had gotten drunk at all.

Your hand made its way to his. As a response to your action, he caressed your hand in return. "What is it?" He asked.

"I want a kiss," you said with a pout. You are definitely drunk, and Scaramouche was sure of it.

"Clingy when sick. Clingy when drunk. I see," he teased. You could feel his hot breath hitting you as he leaned forward, only to pull away a second after. You frowned, making him laugh.

"Kiss me when you're sober, darling." The sudden use of such a nickname made your cheeks flush red.

"Bastard," you mumbled under your breath. He only chuckles even harder at your reaction.

He hummed, "Look at you getting all pouty. You look like a duck."

You hit him on the chest. "I. Am. Not. Drunk."

"Sure, babe. Let's get you home."

"Fuck you."

"That's why we're going home."

"Fuck you!"

"I love you too."

He gave you a peck on the lips and grabbed your hand as he dragged you outside the venue. "Let's go."

ABYSSAL LOVE ✰ previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

(quite literal) TRANSLATION on what yn said on the last picture: “oh fuck-an” is a word play on “upakan” a tagalog word which literally means “(to) hit”; “what if i hit you” or “i'll hit you” | “dejk” is used when you want to say that you're only joking; it means “just kidding” or “i'm joking”.

a/n: i initially thought i'd be able to finish this smau before june ends; but look at the date, its july already, time flies so fast! this is probably the last written chapter (or maybe one more) i realized i'm starting to write too much in written chapters and some might find it boring, and yep, this chapt is lowkey boring lol. now, kazuha's problem is almost solved 🤧

⋆⁺ synopsis — Scaramouche, the person who tripped you on purpose just to see your despair expression on your face, hates how you always appear so happy in front of other people. He hated the fact that you find life enjoyable, unlike him. You, of course, hated him back. You don't understand why he goes to the extent to see your face crinkle in pure dismay. But what if you realize that the person who always laughs at your misery isn't so insufferable after you get to know him?

💌 @r-0-tt-3-n-m-1-lk @kanaqwqbear @berryqueue @nejibot @wrrapedroundmyfingerlikearing @cafescara @ferumie @zannivrs @kazuhasmaid @gunz-nrozes @thenightsflower @deimmortales99 @senjuchii @dollpoetwriting @yumixxn @plinkuro @w9vyy @lacy-lady @hanniejji @fluffimemes @ifelloutofbed @lunaflvms @aeulia @fluffloversmutavoider @aeriether @rizakari @c0nn0rv8 @llghtsnoww @moonxma

[dragonnwriter]

Inviolable Bindings

AemondxAegonxFemOC

All Chapters Here!

Chapter 16

From the moment Aemond and Viserra walked through the doors, all eyes were on them. The booming bustle of people had quieted down as everyone turned to see who had arrived. Starting with the prince, they were formally introduced as they walked side by side up to the royal table.

Holding her head high, Viserra made eye contact with each lord who dared to look her way. Only a few stared back with the majority breaking their gaze within a few seconds. It wasn’t until they had almost reached their family that she turned her attention to those sitting at the front table. 

Looking up, the first eyes that she met were the ones of Aegon. The unabashed smirk that he wore across his face as he looked her up and down hinted that he was indeed pleased with her presentation. She did not return the smile, but held a neutral expression as they finished their walk to their chairs.

It was not a coincidence that the two seats next to the king had not yet been filled. They quickly took their places with Viserra seated in between the two brothers. Looking past the king, she saw the face of Helaena who gave her a friendly smile. Next down the line were the Dowager Queen and the Hand, both whose faces held little emotion that could have rivaled her own.

Aegon wasted no time with the room still quieted down and the royal table now completely seated. He stood, raising his cup of wine to toast his brother’s most recent venture. Aemond’s stiff posture and complete lack of expression hinted that the whole scenario might have made him uncomfortable. If Aegon had picked up on this, he did not seem to care.

“It is our great honor to welcome my brother, Prince Aemond, home from Storm’s End. After securing a powerful alliance of House Baratheon with a betrothal to Lord Borros’ daughter, he bravely fought and eliminated a son and dragon of the False Queen. If they choose to come and try to take my throne, the Blacks now have one less rider and dragon to fight with!” Aegon’s voice was dripping with confidence while speaking. It was only the sweat beading up on his forehead that gave away that he was also quite nervous. “We might all take note of his bravery and devotion to his King. A toast to the good beginning of my reign, that our enemies see that they will be met with blood and fire if they stand in our way. To Prince Aemond, my dearest brother, the true blood of the dragon.”

The room burst into excited cheers as Aegon raised his cup again, this time those in the Great Hall raised theirs in unison. Viserra raised hers as well, happy to start on a cup of wine for the night. She had only been there a few moments before she longed for a drink to take the edge off of the tension that simmered across the table.

The confidence that radiated from the king was surprising. It had been the first time she had heard him address others where he actually sounded like a ruler. She did not know if this was a good or bad start to the night, but raised her cup to join in for the toast nonetheless.

Aegon’s voice boomed over the crowd once more, the people quieting down quickly in response. “I would like to make another toast to my Volantene cousin, Lady Viserra Targaryen. A formidable warrior and dragon rider alike, she has pledged her support and will surely be a fearsome foe to any of those who challenge my crown.”

Those seated in the hall erupted with cheers for the second time that evening and Viserra looked out over the people. It somewhat reminded her of the times she had been in the fighting pits, the crowd's excitement over the fact that they would be seeing her putting her life on the line for a bit of entertainment. She brushed off the thought, raising her cup again with the rest, then took it to her lips and finished the drink in one swift motion.

The cheers soon turned into a loud hum of socialization between those continuing on with their gluttonous feast. Aegon had taken his seat again next to her, finishing his cup of wine like it had been a race between the two. 

“I think the people like you,” Aegon grinned, leaning closer to her so that she could hear his words.

“I think the crowd would cheer regardless of what was presented…as long as you gave them a reason to drink.” Viserra pointed out, holding her own cup up for a refill.

Aegon laughed while placing his hand on her leg, inching even closer to speak more directly in her ear. “This dress makes you look like a queen, dear cousin. What a pleasure it is to have you seated on the other side of me, just as Helaena is to my right.”

The words brought just the slightest pink across Viserra’s cheeks and a smirk began to tease at the corners of her mouth, “You flatter me, but it is difficult to tell if the intention is pure or if you are only trying to keep yourself in my favor.” The sarcasm was obvious in her teasing words. Placing her hand on top of his, she let it sit there for a moment while he conjured up his own response.

“If you ever hear compliments coming out of my mouth regarding you,” Aegon’s voice had lowered and his hand squeezed her leg with a surprising amount of force, “know them to be not only true, but just the surface of the other indecent thoughts running through my mind.”

Viserra lost the battle of holding back her smirk and the blush became more obvious across her cheeks. “I shall keep that in mind,” she responded, bringing her hand back up to the table. Aegon’s boldness was at least entertaining, and by now she did not find herself surprised by the things that came out of his mouth.

Turning her gaze away from the king, Viserra found that Aemond was staring at the hand still placed on her leg. He had watched the interaction between the two and she noticed his jaw was more tense than usual. Realizing that there would be no lighthearted jests that involved him here at the table, she let her smile soften a bit.

“Drink.” Viserra prompted, looking at the cup of wine that was still filled in front of the prince.

Aemond brought his eye up to hers, waiting for just a moment before reaching for the cup. She watched him take a long sip, noting that he was still just as tense. It appeared they shared an understanding of the need for a quick cup of wine if they were going to tolerate the night.

“Let us get through this feast, then tomorrow we will request a council meeting to discuss the war before it lands on our doorstep,” Viserra mused as she felt that strange, uneasiness wash over her again with the mentions of the delayed planning.

“We will be lucky if this fool can be dragged out of bed on the morrow,” Aemond whispered back to her, taking another drink himself.

Viserra looked again towards Aegon, who was halfway done with the next cup of wine. His brother was right. He would be deep into his cups in no time. Tucking the uneasiness back down, she took in a deep breath. At her rate, she would also find herself quite addled with drink.

“Agreed. What do you say we enjoy the night, then start that discussion in the morning…with or without him?” Viserra suggested, trying to also convince herself to put duties aside for the night.

There really wasn’t another option, but the illusion of there being a choice seemed to settle the both of them. Soon the entirety of the feast had been served, although there were still many who chose to dance instead of eat. While the music carried on, both Viserra and Aemond enjoyed observing the interactions of those around them. Even Aegon had asked Helaena to dance once they had their fill of food, something that did not happen often. On the floor, each lord and lady seemed to also be caught up in the night without another care in the world. 

While sitting there content with simply observing, Viserra noticed Otto stand and made his way in their direction. The distrust of the man had not gotten any better or worse in her days there at the Keep, but she forced a smile on her face as to not show her true feelings. He barely had given her a glance, but she watched as he leaned into Aemond’s ear opposite of her and whispered something. Aemond nodded in response and they both watched as Otto walked down to the floor to stand next to a burly man with thick facial hair and dark, shoulder length waves.

Without a word to anyone else, Aemond rose from his seat as well and took his place next to his grandsire and the lord. Viserra observed with watchful eyes. She also noticed that Aegon was walking Helaena back to the table, the girl was welcomed into the arms of her mother. For a moment, Viserra’s attention was pulled back to Aegon again. He was laughing as he came to plop himself back down in the chair next to her.

“Dear cousin, only my brother can match you in seriousness…but at least he is letting himself enjoy the festivities,” he teased, letting himself nudge her with his elbow.

As her eyes wandered back in Aemond’s direction, she noticed him now talking with a girl who stood at the side of the burly lord. Suddenly, the visual in front of her made much more sense. The man must have been Lord Borros, and the girl his daughter: Aemond’s newly betrothed. Viserra took in the girl’s plain features, her long brown hair braided on top of her head, the gown she wore was a brilliant gold with black accents. There was the slightest twinge of irritation towards her, though Viserra was not sure where it had come from. She had not done anything to offend her, but something about her appearance seemed to get under her skin. Perhaps she was too plain for a Targaryen prince, she thought.

Turning her head to make a comment to Aegon, she realized that another lord had his eyes on them and was approaching the royal table. Viserra held her tongue as she watched the familiar man make his way up the steps and bow to his king.

“Your Grace, might I have the boldest intention to ask Lady Viserra for a dance this evening?” He asked Aegon before turning his attention to Viserra, “I have noticed that you have not had the pleasure of enjoying the music tonight. Is there a reason for this? Or is it simply that the men of the hall are too intimidated by your beautiful presence?”

The laugh that Aegon let out of his mouth almost startled her as she brought her eyes to meet the man in front of her.

“The Lady is not being held captive, I think it is much the latter. She is free as a bird.” Aegon bantered as he took a sip of his wine.

The man took a step to be directly in front of her, offering his hand out and giving her another bow. “Forgive me, Lady Viserra, I have not introduced myself. I am Lord Jason Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, brother of Lord Tyland. It would be an honor to share a dance with such a beautiful Targaryen woman such as yourself.”

Viserra’s eyes refocused behind him on the interaction that was happening between Aemond and his betrothed, “Gods save me,” she muttered under her breath.

“My apologies, what was that?” The lord inquired as he truly had not heard the words that came from her mouth.

Giving a quick frustrated glance to Aegon, she let out a long breath and forced a smile back to the lord, “Of course.”

Reaching to the hand in front of her, she rose from her seat and began to make way around the table. A sudden pulling at her hip made her turn to see that Aegon had grabbed on to the belt that held her blade. Viserra looked to Aegon with confusion as she glanced from her belt back to his eyes.

“Leave this here with me, there is no need for a blade when enjoying yourself on the floor,” he suggested.

“I disagree,” she almost snapped, “It would be most unwise to leave me unarmed in a large room full of unfamiliar people.”

Aegon’s smile dropped just a bit, “Gods, Viserra, have your fun! As your King, I would like you to leave the blade here. I promise it will not be let out of my sight.”

The suggestion seemed like an absurdly irresponsible one to the fiery dragon rider who most always wielded her weapon. It was only the knowledge that she still had a dagger strapped to her thigh that allowed her to bite her tongue. Viserra pulled her hand quickly from the lord’s to untie the belt. Taking the sheathed blade in her grip, she handed it directly to Aegon. 

“As you wish,” she said through her teeth, surrendering to the command as to not create a scene here in front of the court. But the ignorant demand would not be forgotten.

Taking the Lannister’s hand once more, she let him lead her to the crowd. She observed the way he had carried himself, so arrogant and proud. It was an irritating trait that many lords in powerful houses had no issue displaying.

As they joined the others on the floor, Viserra was pleased to hear the start of a familiar song in which she vaguely knew the steps to. Most dancing that she had observed that night had been centuries old choreography. She vaguely remembered learning them when her father had demanded she master the teachings for ladies as well as the sword. Tonight, she would be grateful for paying attention to those many years ago so as to not be humiliated and become the entertainment herself.

“Lady Viserra, I have heard many things about you. Your…fierceness and skill with the sword to be one of them.” The lord seemed to force out the compliment.  “But I could have never imagined someone with those abilities would also be so breathtakingly beautiful.”

Viserra found the words that left his mouth to be rather unoriginal, she had heard many variations by men over the last few years. She replied in the only way she could muster that would not come off as rude. “You are too kind.”

The lord smiled and nodded to her as they began the dance.

“Might I also be as bold as to ask if there are plans of a betrothal in your future?” He pried in passing as they circled around each other, “It would be of House Targaryen’s benefit to make such an outstanding woman an equally powerful match, a Lord who does not fear a woman such as you.”

Viserra felt her face start to scrunch up in disgust but she mustered the strength to fight it.

“While that is quite the bold question, I will let you know that I do not plan to marry,” she groused as they faced each other again and their hands met in rhythm to the music.

The look of shock on the Lannister’s face told her that he was not expecting an answer such as that. It took quite a few moments for him to conjure up a response while still following along with the dance.

“I must say this surprises me, my Lady. I am sure there are reasons but-“

“The reasons are mine own, Lord Jason,” Viserra interrupted, not wanting to hear some misogynistic complaint about how she was not fulfilling her womanly duties, “My dragon and I will be fighting alongside Prince Aemond and Vhagar when our skill is required. Distractions such as marriage and children do not belong in my path for the foreseeable future.”

His face looked just as shocked as before, seeming to have difficulty processing the words that he had just heard.

“My apologies, my Lady. It seems as if this conversation did not go quite the way I had thought it would. I did not mean any offense.” The lord faltered, trying to back track his words but unsure of how to repair the damage.

“And which way did you suppose this would go?” Viserra inquired, the polite smile on her face did not match the barbed tongue she was speaking with, “I may be Targaryen by blood, but I am a highborn woman from one of the most rich and powerful cities in Essos. I do not believe that any lord here in Westeros would have much to offer me in terms of a betrothal. It would be my betrothed who would benefit from me and I am not fond of the thought that I would be wed to something akin to a leech.”

The timing of the music could not have been better, the song coming to an end just as the conversation had. She gave a small curtsey and made her way back to the table without giving him a chance to respond.

Only the Hand and the King were seated at the table when she arrived. Otto’s eyebrows were raised as he watched her climb the steps and stand next to Aegon. He had observed the interaction during the dance and no doubt was curious to know what conversation had taken place.

The moment she was within arms reach of Aegon, she grabbed her blade that was still in his hands. Not uttering a single word to him, she fastened the belt back on her hips and took to her seat.

“It would appear as if the both of you did not enjoy the dance.” Aegon teased, "Was it the music? Or simply one another’s company?” His poor timing to taunt an already brooding dragon seemed evident at this moment.

“The arrogant bloke had all but offered himself up to be my husband.” Viserra fumed, snatching her half full cup of wine and downing the rest of it. She looked at Aegon again and channeled all of her frustration into setting the cup down. He let out a laugh, somehow finding her answer much more entertaining than she had.

Happily changing the subject, she inquired on the whereabouts of the others. “Where did your mother and Helaena leave to? And Aemond?” The grin was quick to settle on Aegon’s face as he looked to the empty seats to his right. “My mother has taken my sister back to her chambers. They are not ones to stay long at a party. Helaena would rather spend her evenings with the children…although I can’t imagine why.”

“Ah, I see.” The answer only partially satisfied Viserra, letting her eyes wander down to the floor where she had last seen Aemond standing. Scanning the drunk and boisterous crowd through the heads weaving around each other, it did not take her long to find the long platinum hair she was looking for.

The newly betrothed couple had taken the floor to dance. Of course, she thought, where else would he have gone? From the expressions that Viserra could see, it seemed as if they were having a much more pleasant time than she had just experienced with the Lannister lord. While Aemond’s posture was characteristically rigid, he was surprisingly enjoyable to watch with his graceful movements. She observed them quietly for a moment until his hand came to sit on the girl’s lower back and the grin on her face grew wider.

There was nothing left at this feast for her now, save the endless cups of wine that were being poured over and over. She looked to Aegon, who had turned his attention to the servant girl that was pouring the wine. From the girl’s uncomfortable expression, she thought he gave her much more attention than she probably wanted in the first place.

The library would be a fine place to take refuge from the night’s chaos. A walk around the castle halls might also offer reprieve from whatever she was running from. She could retire to her chambers and sleep away the hours until the morrow. Wherever she went next would be better than this..

As soon as Viserra imagined her escape, she wasted no time in implementing it. Standing at the table and taking a small step back behind her chair, her sudden movement caught Aegon’s eye.

 “Where are you off to, cousin?” He asked with a cautious curiosity, reaching out and trying to take a hold of her wrist.

Before he could get a good grasp, she snatched her arm away from his fingers, “I wish to be anywhere but here,” she declared while giving herself a good distance from him, just in case he reached out to her again.

“Viserra.” Aegon called to her, his previously cheerful voice now bore one with more seriousness. “Do not leave now, there is much more to drink and plenty more time to dance.”

His sudden change to a more desperate demeanor was not well received. She would not be commanded to stay here any longer but did not want to cause a scene. It might have gone differently if he had not offended her by withholding her blade.

“Your Grace.” She nodded, giving a small curtsy for her departure. Turning on her heels and taking off before Aegon had a chance to get to her, she did not even glance at the faces she passed.

The noises of the feast became a dull hum once the large doors had closed behind her. Finally, she felt as if a weight had been lifted off her chest, free of putting on a front and biting her tongue. Many of the servants had been busy with the festivities and this left the castle fairly empty. It was a relief for the girl who preferred the less busy atmosphere.

There was a considerable amount of distance between the Throne Room and the inner walls of the castle. One would need to pass through a set of guards and doors before reaching the areas that the royal family most frequented. Once she passed them and they had shut behind her, Viserra felt as if she could breathe a little bit easier.

Her footsteps echoed off of the stone walls as she made it further into the castle. The quiet emptiness of the Keep brought the same uneasiness through the air. While nothing seemed obviously aloof, Viserra could not shake off the feeling that had come back to haunt her.

At both the bottom of the Serpentine Steps and the entrance to Maegor’s Holdfast, she was greeted by multiple guards. This had brought her just the slightest bit of reassurance that the chambers had not been left unwatched.

With her senses still heightened, she noticed her shoes tapping up the stairway sounded incredibly loud. Once she reached her own unguarded room, she did not hesitate to thoroughly look around for anything out of place. Her own chambermaids were nowhere in sight, both had most likely been called to help with the feast after she had taken her leave with Aemond. To distract herself, Viserra chose to focus on feeding the fire that was now dwindling. She crouched down and placed new wood in the fireplace, hoping it would soon bring the soothing warmth back to the room.

Standing again, Viserra eyed the decanter of wine that sat on the small table near her. One more cup would suffice, she thought, it might be just the thing to help her sleep soundly that night. The pour she made herself was generous and she quickly sat back down by the slowly growing fire.

The crackling of the flames washed away most of the unnerving silence that had bothered Viserra before. She let herself relax on the settee, the cup in her hand and the weight of the blade on her hip both giving her a sense of security. Staring into the flames and enjoying the heat on her skin, she soon felt the wine buzz in her head intensify..

Soft knocking at the door caused Viserra to almost jump out of her skin. While she had known the chambermaids would be returning at some point, the disruption of her peace had somehow surprised her.

“Who is it?” She questioned, sitting up and turning herself towards the entrance. Instinctually her hand moved to the hilt of her sword. As the door opened, she recognized the familiar tousled white mop of hair even before he had entered completely.

She scoffed and did not even try to hide the irritation she felt. “Did it appear that I was wanting company when I took my leave from the feast?”

When all he did was smile drunkenly back at her, she realized her peace truly had been disrupted for the evening.

[krys-loves-otome]

A Second Glance, Part 4

Rating: Teen (the entire work is marked as Mature, so read the rest at your own risk)

Pairing: Hideyoshi x Preg!Reader

Summary: A look into the aftermath of Chapter 3. There's also a flashback scene at the beginning.

Warnings: Pregnancy, references to and going into light detail about a past character's death, Nobukatsu also has a potty mouth on him so if foul language is something that bothers you, it's here too.

Notes: Adding in a few more people to Nobunaga's family tree as IkeSen canon makes it a little sparse. Added in his nephews Nobukatsu and Nobutaka (who were originally two of his RL sons, but made nephews for the sake of this story) and his little sister Oichi with her daughter.

Part 1 || Part 3

Read A Second Glance all in one place on ao3!

My Fanfic Masterlist

And many thanks to @tsundere-mitsuhide and @scummy-writes for beta-reading for me!

-----

"Thank you for visiting with us, [Name]. It was a pleasure to meet with you again."

Warm rays of spring lit up the flower gardens Nobunaga was sitting in alongside his younger sister, Lady Oichi. He had decided to visit her when she had written to him about her new daughter. He also decided to drag you along for the ride. You both had been too busy to see each other lately, so he claimed the trip for your benefit as well, to cure your loneliness of the time spent apart.

Though the sentiment was nice, you couldn't help but feel the slightest twinge of jealousy (and some other feeling you didn't have a name for then) when you see the usually demonic and ruthless conqueror giving all his attention to the bouncing infant on his knee, letting her touch his cheeks while she giggled and babbled away happily.

"Thank you for inviting us, Lady Oichi," you say, watching as the smirking uncle and his little niece engaged in a fierce staring contest. "I'm surprised he responded to your letter so quickly."

Oichi laughed. "Just Oichi, dear, please."

She glanced at her older brother, a wistful look in her eye.

"Truth be told, I am glad we get along as well as we do. He will never admit to it, and he will call me a silly brat until we both have gray hair and wrinkles, but he has always been there for me when I needed him. He always cared even if he does not always show it."

Oichi frowned.

"Ever since the falling out at Father's funeral, I have not seen much of my other brothers and sister, since I chose to support Nobunaga. We haven't spoken much since then."

"How many other siblings do the two of you have? If I may ask?"

"My brother hasn't told you?"

"It's… never really come up in conversation."

She paused to think.

"As far as I'm aware, two brothers and another sister still live, aside from myself. All of them are older than me while they are all younger than Nobunaga. The most I've heard from my family outside of Nobunaga… was when our sister's sons had reached adulthood recently. I am considering visiting them so they can meet their new cousin."

"Good luck, if you decide to do so." You say, "At least to help patch up those relationships."

"Thank you," Oichi smiled, "I am glad my brother has found someone as kind and reassuring as you."

The heat in your cheeks flared lightly but you smiled along with her nonetheless. Nobunaga smirked, reaching across to bring you in closer to him.

Morning light and chipper birdsong strained Mitsuhide's eyes and ears, not helpful in the least for his pounding head. Though he was fortunate to have a fresh set of clothes and some strong-smelling tea coursing through him, it did little to alleviate his fatigue and overall mood. His feet dragged only a little bit on the hallway floor.

"Good morning, Lord Mitsuhide," Mitsunari, fresh as a spring daisy, greeted with a small nod.

"Morning," he returned half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair, "I'm sure you've heard that Hideyoshi called this emergency meeting because of what happened last night?"

"Yes, I've heard." Mitsunari frowned in thought, "Lord Hideyoshi asked me to look after Lady [Name] so suddenly last night, I didn't have much of a chance to ask him what was going on. All I know is what Lady [Name] knew of the situation."

"Well, the short of it was that there were assassins sent in the night. At least two of them, in fact."

"Two assassins? Lady [Name] had said you had killed one of them."

"The other was lurking nearby. My vassals found him and interrogated him."

"The first one could have had information as well," Mitsunari said, "Why did you-"

"I find men who wander around with unsheathed blades quite uncouth. Especially around unsuspecting little mice and monkeys."

Mitsunari blinked and cleared his throat.

"Then, what did you discover from the other assassin? The one your vassals caught?"

"He was under orders to capture Azuchi's castle chatelaine. Preferably alive but it wasn't a guarantee."

"Do you know who sent him?"

"Not him directly, but his… I guess we'll call him his 'dearly departed comrade', had an Oda insignia on his sword."

"An Oda insignia?" Mitsunari's eyes widened, "but that would mean-"

"Yes. Playtime with the Oda is over, I'm afraid."

"Over Lady [Name]?"

"She seems to have gained their attention without us noticing it. Lucky little Miss Popular."

"But, why?" Mitsunari asked, worried, "Why now? As far as I was aware, the Oda didn't acknowledge her existence, outside of Lady Oichi."

"It is a mystery. Someone must have noticed something was up, especially with Hideyoshi still sitting on his hands."

Mitsunari sighed, looking out at the chirping birds in the nearby trees. A chilly breeze ruffled their feathers, soon snuggling closer together for warmth in their nest.

"…It's been months now."

Mitsuhide gave a sad smile, to no notice of his companion.

"Grief is one of the hardest burdens to bear. Some just have a harder time letting it go than others."

"We can't keep holding it off forever."

"It's still in Hideyoshi's hands, whether we like it or not."

"Can't we just-"

"I've already tried with a threat to sweep the chatelaine away to my own castle. He… didn't take the threat too well." Mitsuhide laughed quietly, "he might have punched me then."

Mitsunari pursed his lips, frowning in thought. He looked Mitsuhide directly in his eyes.

"Would you have taken her if the chance was before you?"

Mitsuhide said nothing, still keeping his smile in place despite Mitsunari's hard stare. Only the bird chatter filled their silence.

After a beat, Mitsuhide chuckled quietly.

"It's getting late. Let's not keep our dear Hideyoshi waiting."

With a reluctant nod, Mitsunari turned away and entered the meeting room. Mitsuhide was slower to follow, watching the dripping icicles in the trees.

"The fox stealing the wife away while the husband sleeps?" he chuckled, his sad smile returning for a brief moment before his usual beguiling smirk took its place, "it’s a silly notion, Mitsunari. A story meant for children to warn them of the villains of the world. It couldn’t happen in real life, after all."

He turned away, facing forward. One of the birds flew away from the nearby nest, gliding into the distance.

Two identical sets of carnelian eyes glared at each other, the fire of anger hotter than any swordsmith's forge. A low guttural growl broke the silence along with a cup slammed on the table, splashing steaming tea.

"Why did you interfere, Nobutaka?!" snarled the scarred man before a poised man with long black hair tied in a low ponytail. "I almost had that bastard monkey! If you had just-"

"Murdering Hideyoshi was not part of the plan, Brother." Nobutaka said calmly, sipping his tea with furrowed eyebrows, "Our only goal in Azuchi was to capture the castle chatelaine. There was no need for bloodshed."

The scarred man, Nobukatsu Oda, huffed bitterly, scratching furiously at his short black hair.

"Why do you care so much about a castle's caretaker? What's so special about a wench that arranges flowers and sorts dainty napkins all day?"

"The fact that she was Uncle Nobunaga's chatelaine is curious. He never had one before, and then she suddenly appeared, as if from the heavens one day."

"Maybe he was really impressed with her decorating skills." Nobukatsu said sarcastically.

"Maybe you should learn to pay more attention," Nobutaka steepled his fingers, his glasses' chain glittering in the sunlight.

"Is it not strange that a woman with no social standing or noble heritage suddenly has the attention of not only Uncle Nobunaga, but his vassals and allies in Oshu and Mikawa? Even his enemies speak well of Uncle's castle caretaker. I find the matter quite intriguing."

"Are you really holding back on killing Hideyoshi just because of some woman you find 'intriguing'? That butt-monkey is still standing in our way of clan leadership! He is also the one stopping us from claiming what rightfully should be ours: Uncle Nobunaga's domain. What in all hells are you waiting for?"

"To see what the monkey does."

"…What?"

"Listen to me, Nobukatsu." He looked straight into his brother's eyes. "The fact that Hideyoshi is stalling for time is also peculiar. He could take the domain for himself, reaping the benefits and no one would bat an eye. But, he hasn't. He also refuses to relinquish it to anyone, Oda or otherwise. So, if he doesn't want to hand Azuchi over to anyone nor does he take the rule for his own benefit, why is he sitting on his hands, wasting everyone's time?"

Nobukatsu was quiet, grumbling as he tried to process his younger brother's implications.

"He's… waiting for the chatelaine… to do something? Since you keep bringing her up, she has to be important for some reason."

"You're catching on." Nobutaka chuckled, "I'm impressed."

"Enough mind games, snot-face. What are you getting at?"

"Again, Hideyoshi, as well as many others in Uncle's circle and outside of it, speak favorably about the castle chatelaine. Hideyoshi refuses to move forward with surrendering Uncle's domain or taking it for himself. My theory is that the chatelaine is carrying Uncle Nobunaga's child and that monkey is waiting to seize the child and name him as Uncle's posthumous heir."

"Wha-What gives that bastard the right to do that? He shouldn't interfere with-"

"Did I also mention that the chatelaine was named an Oda princess?"

"By who!?"

"Uncle Nobunaga, before his unfortunate passing."

"But, she wasn't related to any of us. She didn't wed him or was a named mistress. Hells, Uncle Nobunaga was never married so he couldn't have mistresses to fool around with."

"How quaint of you," Nobutaka continued, "but rumors have spread regardless. Other nobles claim the chatelaine an Oda princess, but can never substantiate their claims, other than what they heard from sources in Azuchi's castle, not from the clan itself."

"So, let me get this straight. You're saying that Uncle Nobunaga possibly knocked up his chatelaine and now Butt Monkey Hideyoshi is gonna try and claim the brat as Uncle Nobunaga's heir after he's already dead because the chatelaine has some fake princess title?"

"That's my theory on the matter."

"It's bullshit."

"I did not ask for your opinion."

"It's bullshit he thinks he can name some random bitch's accident as heir. Is there any proof the little punk's even Uncle Nobunaga's spawn? You did say the chatelaine was 'spoken of highly' in Uncle's circle. Could have screwed one of his vassals and claimed it was Uncle who did it. Could be Butt Monkey's kid for all we know."

"No one will know unless a child suddenly materializes, if my theory is correct."

Nobukatsu grumbled again, glancing out at the dripping icicles.

"So what do we do now, since you're so insistent about not killing the monkey."

"Right now, we wait to see how Hideyoshi responds to our little… message. Hopefully he's not dead, no thanks to you."

"I still think he's better off dead than you doing this song and dance you keep doing. Easier that way."

"I'm trying to be civil, to go about things the right way. Unlike you who bludgeons his way into getting what he wants."

"At least I'm getting results while you sit on your ass drinking tea and playing Go all day. Heh, it's no wonder I'm twenty minutes older than you; you had to sit and think about being born before the midwife pulled you out."

"And you're a crude, boorish oaf who has no patience for anyone." Nobutaka deadpanned "You're a terrible general with a short temper as well."

"And you're lucky you're my brother, else I have half a mind to cut out that tongue of yours."

"Oh, I feel so loved and appreciated in your presence, dear brother." Nobutaka stood, "now get out of my sight. Your entire existence disgusts me."

"Your face disgusts me."

"Your insults are as poor as your provinces."

"They're still bigger than yours."

"Get out of my castle before I throw you out myself!"

"That, I'd like to see." Nobukatsu laughed, standing up, "Go ahead and throw me out, you weakling brat!"

"My lords!" a voice spoke up in the doorway, a servant with a scroll in his hand, "a message has arrived from Azuchi."

"Hopefully good news," Nobutaka spat.

"I'm afraid not, sir," said the servant, handing over the scroll. "Lord Hideyoshi was quite displeased with your threat, as it were."

"Who cares what he thinks," Nobukatsu snorted, "Most aren't exactly itching to be taken out by assassins."

"At least we know he's still alive enough to be irritated." The younger brother read over the message, his eyebrows furrowed. "He also says to not threaten him or Azuchi's safety again, else he will have to take 'drastic actions.'

"Be more than what he's currently doing," Nobukatsu sighed, "now what?"

Nobutaka crumpled the paper in his hand and threw the ball into the fire behind him.

"I think if you want something done right, you'll have to do things yourself. I'm going to Azuchi to see that insufferable primate and Uncle's beloved chatelaine."

"What, to prove your pet theory right?"

"There's a reason the monkey keeps holding Uncle's legacy hostage. If he freely won't give it to us, I say we should go and take it from him."

"Great idea, I'm going with you."

"No, you're not."

"Someone has to save your scrawny ass if a fight breaks out."

"I'm more than capable of protecting myself, thank you."

"No, you're not."

"Says you."

"Says me who has saved your ass more times than he can count, which is pretty high."

"You just want to come along to impale your sword on someone."

"Would you rather I impale you instead?"

Nobutaka sighed.

"Fine, but no killing while we're in Azuchi. This is going to be a scouting mission of sorts. No bloodshed."

"Only if they provoke me first."

"As if that's a difficult task." he sighed, sending his servant away, "whatever will keep you quiet."

Nobutaka stood now, taking his tea cup and walked out of the room as his brother took the opposite direction.

"Azuchi and Uncle's legacy will be in the right hands soon," he said quietly, tightening his hold on his cup, "no matter what stands in my way. No stupid monkeys and certainly no upstart chatelaines will stop me from gaining what’s supposed to be mine."

Cooled tea slid between his fingers, his cup having cracked with the sheer strength of his grip. He threw it against the wall, a satisfying crash resounding in the otherwise silent halls.

Light puffs of smoke floated away into the evening sky, the stars just starting to turn visible. Hideyoshi closed his eyes, sitting on the veranda, the coming night chill not seeming to bother him. He leaned back, feeling every joint voice their discomfort.

With a sigh and another puff on his pipe, he finally noticed you standing a little ways away from him, bundled in a warm haori and holding another dark green one in your hands, neatly folded. Hideyoshi coughed loudly, frantically trying to put out his pipe, erratic smoke puffs escaping his mouth.

"[Name]!" he choked, "What are you doing up? Didn't I already tell you about good sleeping habits starting-"

"Yeah, last night," you said, "right before Mitsuhide gave me a week's worth of nightmare fuel."

"…Nightmare fuel?"

"A-anyway," you continued, "I didn't know how long you were going to be out here, so I brought you a jacket."

"You didn't have to, [Name], I would have been fine without one."

"It's still cold out, Hideyoshi. I'm… We're worried about you. Me and Mitsunari, that is." You handed it to him, standing at his side. "And… they're, they're worried too. We all are."

After a minute's pause, Hideyoshi reluctantly put it on, hiding his hands in the sleeves.

"It's still late," he said, "and it's been a long day. I won't be much longer, promise."

"…Can I stay just for a little longer?" You asked, "They… they've been getting restless lately, especially at night."

"Well, we certainly can't have that, can we?" Hideyoshi sat up straighter, pulling one side of his haori open. "If you're staying, I'm keeping you warm while you're out here. No buts, missy."

You smile and laugh, accepting his offer of shared warmth. You take careful, slow steps on the shallow stairs. Hideyoshi's arm reached out to steady you as you descended. Once you were settled beside him, his arm encircled your shoulders with a comfortable amount of his haori covering you.

"Warm enough?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you."

He nodded, turning his gaze back to the darkening sky, the stars becoming clearer and brighter.

"It's funny," he said quietly, "holding you like this to keep warm, it reminds me of my early days of serving Lord Nobunaga."

You looked up at him, hoping this was the famous story from your time, of Hideyoshi and Nobunaga's sandals.

"I was… young and overly eager to please him, as he had given me my second chance at life. I was about to do anything if it would please him."

He paused while you waited in anticipation, watching his cheeks turn pink in embarrassment.

"Including… putting his sandals in my kimono… to warm them for him."

You snickered while he sighed.

"It was a long time ago, [Name]."

"I think it was sweet of you, thinking of his comfort like that."

"He laughed and called me a stupid monkey."

"It wasn't stupid at all!" you giggled.

"Now you're just being nice, [Name]," Hideyoshi grumbled.

You snuggled in closer, pulling your shared haori closer.

"…I dreamed of him last night," you said softly, frowning, "I think he was trying to warn me."

"Warn you?"

"He tried to but… there wasn't any sound in the dream," you paused, "save for one. When… when he was struck from behind and…"

You shivered. Hideyoshi held you closer.

"I should apologize to you," Hideyoshi said, clenching his fist. "iIf I had been faster, stronger… I could have reached you sooner. Hearing you scream like that, fearing I was too late… seeing Lord Nobunaga falling to the ground… I didn't know what was happening anymore… just that I was seeing red."

"Hideyoshi…"

"You… you were clinging to him so tightly, refusing to let him go. I… I held both of you in my arms, his blood was coating both of us… I… I was ready to kill Masamune and Mitsuhide for trying to separate all of us… and Ieyasu because he was touching you… to remove you from us… I … that day still haunts me."

His eyes were hard, lost in the memory of that day. It had been hard on everyone, the hardest to the two of you. A hollow victory with the biggest loss to all involved. You reached for his hand, both of your chilled fingers seeming to bring him back to the present. He gave an apologetic smile.

"See, I really have kept you out here too long. Your hands are frozen!"

He slipped his arms out of his haori, giving his remaining warmth to you while rubbing his hands over yours.

"C'mon, let's get you inside," he insisted while standing up, "I'll make you some tea and we'll get you some warm covers to sleep under. Four should be good. Or would five be better?"

One hand over yours, the other at your back to keep you steady on the steps, Hideyoshi held you securely despite his frigid fingers, making sure you safely made it onto the landing first, making you temporarily taller than him.

You turned towards him, his nose and cheeks red from the cold, sure to be matching your own, much to Hideyoshi's dismay.

Before he could climb to your side, however, you leaned towards him, touching dry and cold-chapped lips together with his. The tobacco still lingered on him, you noticed.

Hideyoshi froze, eyes wide open in surprise. When you pulled back for air, though his cheeks were warmer, his eyes, once again, filled with sadness. He let out a breath.

"Inside, [Name]," he left no room for argument. "Now."

[sheainlondon]

back of my mind. [b. chilwell]

inspiration: back of my mind — maria isabel <3

“i knew your love came with a price.”

ok so this is my first post on tumblr, i read a lot but i rlly wanna try writing so if anyone even sees this pls dont judge 🥺❤️

- also when i do write i tend to write in third person bc its a lot easier for me to describe things but i wanted to try first <33

I sat comfortably in the broadcaster booth, my little cousin on my lap as I slid on his headphones, then mine.

I watched Asher every Sunday, since my aunt and uncle had strange work hours. Asher always behaved and was a great boy, but even they needed a little alone time.

He liked coming to work with me and watching the football games, or pitching me his ideas for goal celebration calls.

He’d recently just started playing football, and with time became a huge Chelsea supporter, and was a big Mason Mount fan.

I myself of course enjoyed watching the blues as well, which is of course why I chose to intern there. But nonetheless, there was a little… history there.

The second half had already started, with the Blues up 1-0.

But as time went on, Watford started to press more and more, which eventually ended in a late goal from the other side.

The game now tied at 1-1, I began to tense up. We weren’t really gonna tie on the last game of the season, right?

As the clock ticked on, Lee sighed and took off his headphones. He rubbed his temples, then turned to me, “I gotta get down there for the postgame stuff. You and the big guy got it, right?” He joked, ruffling Asher’s hair.

“Yup!” I nodded, as Asher giggled, getting up from my lap to sit in Lee’s seat.

As soon as Lee left an incoming substitution came up on the screen in front of me.

‘Ben Chilwell >’

‘Mason Mount <‘

“Who’s that?” my cousin asked, trying make sense of the unfamiliar name.

“Ben Chilwell, he’s been injured.” I said slowly, hoping the bell doesn’t ring for him that it was my ex-something.

“Oh. Alright,” he grinned, “You should say, ‘Please welcome back, Ben Chilwell!’“ he exclaimed, stressing each syllable in his name.

“Sure, why not?” I giggled, swiping my blonde curls out of the way before getting the microphone ready.

The referee then gave his cue, as I came onto the mic.

“Substitution for Chelsea, number nineteen— Mason Mount.”

My voice echoed throughout the stadium as Asher looked at me in awe. I smiled and winked back.

As I watched Mount leave the pitch and hug Ben, a hint of nostalgia tampered with me as I closed my eyes and said into the mic,

“Please welcome back, number twenty-one— Ben Chilwell!” I exclaimed, as the crowd rose and buzzed, ecstatic for his return.

Sad happiness filled me, as I turned off the microphone and stood up, clapping along with them.

As he settled into his position, his head turned and looked up at me in the booth

Our eyes locked.

He nodded, with a heavy smile.

I gave him a thumbs up, just as Asher realized what was going on and got up on his chair to wave at him too.

The game resumed, and the ninety minute mark came.

James had the ball, and just made a splendid move to trick the Watford defenders, before putting in a beautiful cross, that perfectly directed off of Barkley’s head… into the goal!

I threw my hands up in excitement, before high-fiving Asher.

Quickly, I grabbed the microphone once more,

“Goal, Chelsea! Number eighteen… Ross Barkley!”

The three stoppage time minutes went quick, as the final whistle blew and the crowd erupted in cheers.

I watched the players intermix to congratulate each other, then signed off and wished everyone a good evening and safe drive.

Next, we had to get down to the pitch for the awards, speeches, goodbyes, etc.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ:*

As Asher and I arrived on the pitch, Azpi had just finished his speech and congratulated Mount on his phenomenal season and was handing him his player of the year award.

Mason Mount highlights began to play on the Jumbotron above, and families flooded out behind us.

I located Lee, and we began to set up the interviews as the players took their appreciation lap.

We interviewed Rudiger first, then Thomas Tuchel.

“Y/N!” my brother tugged at my jacket as we waited for the next player. Asher then started to speak super fast and jump around at the sight of Mason Mount and Reece James.

“Woah, woah, slow down!” I giggled, squatting down to his height as Lee looked down on us and laughed.

“Go enjoy the last day, Y/N. It’s been a pleasure having you in the booth,” he nodded, as I got up and went to shake his hand, in which he enveloped me into a hug instead.

“No Lee, it’s been a pleasure working for you. Thanks for everything.” I smiled.

“But first how about I get Asher here a photo with Mason Mount, yeah?”

I grinned, as I saw number nineteen approach the interview booth, “He’d love that,” I watched as Asher’s eyes lightened at the sight of the young man.

“And wait,”

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Will you go say hi to Ben for me?” he winked, before his eyes drew forward towards a man in blue who seemed to be lost in the crowd without any family.

I slightly shook my head, but smiled.

I had to say hi.

Every time I’d look through my office window out at the training grounds I’d see him in the parking lot, as he’d be coming in for recovery.

And I’d wondered if anything had changed.

We both knew what we were getting into when we started seeing each other, with me being in the United States most of the time for school and him being a full-time football star.

But we knew that night in New York that it was time to say goodbye.

He took pieces of me when he left.

Just like how I kept pieces of him when he walked away.

“Go on,” Lee ushered me further onto the pitch, as my green eyes comfortably met Ben’s blue ones, to which he quickly looked away from.

I still saw oceans in his eyes. That’s one thing that never changed.

My air forces inched over the gorgeous green grass of Stamford Bridge, as my eyes flickered down and focused on the faded lines of where it had been perfectly cut.

I finally looked up, and I was just inches away from him. He was now coming towards me as well.

As soon as we were close enough, Ben wasted no time to envelop me in a huge hug. I smiled into his smelly jersey that held a faint smell of his familiar cologne.

“I didn’t believe Azpi when he said you worked here now.” he finally said, as we shared an understanding silence with each other.

“Interning, just interning,” I replied, as he hugged me tighter, “I’m sorry I never found you when I first started here. I guess I was just scared.”

He finally pulled away and looked me in the eyes, a soft smile locked onto his face.

“I think we both were.” he nodded.

Nobody spoke as we both took in the buzz of the bridge.

“Any plans this Summer?” I asked, breaking the silence, only wanting to hear his voice and everything about him.

“Yeah, I’m leaving town in a few days. I’m obviously not participating in the Nations League with England so it’s probably gonna be a pretty light next couple of months.”

“Nice,” I nodded, as I nervously tapped my left foot a little bit.

“What about you?”

“Oh, you know me… the normal rounds. New York, California… maybe even Italy this year.”

He nodded.

We both couldn’t deny there was an undeniable sadness between the two of us, not to mention Ben’s absent family members.

“Parents couldn’t make it?” I asked breaking into a new conversation, still in search for his missing loved ones.

“No,” he looked down, studying the ground as if he were in search of something down there.

His eyes glistened as they finally came back up, I could tell it was bugging him that nobody showed on the last day. His family was always first for him.

“I bet some of the other boys family’s couldn’t—“ I started, as his hand moved under my chin and pointed my face up towards him.

He looked as if he was ready to cry, as his hand dropped from under my chin and a sad smile overcame his face, “I just wanna look at you.” he gulped, “Forget about them… forget about everyone else. It’s just you and me again. Even after all those days we spent apart… you still sat at the back of my mind every single one of them.” he shook his head. He went from seemingly being unhappy with his parents to being upset about us.

“We knew it’d come with a price.” I assured, trying to shed light on the main reason we failed.

“I know,” our eyes stayed connected as he fidgeted with the hem of his jersey, “But right now, I-…” he stuttered.

“What?” I frowned.

Ben looked down at me as a ray of sun had moved onto us. He then raised his arm and slid it over my shoulder, softly declaring, “I think you’re all I need.”

[bleakyblues]

Korn’s position is not stable at all

The thing which occurred to me during all this introspection about Porsche and his loyalties in my previous meta is that I and a lot of people in this fandom are being remiss in not trusting Kinn enough. He is the main piece and so far he has not openly declared which side his loyalties lie. And that is because no one is quite daring enough to challenge him and have him choose the other side.

Now that might at first sound like bad news for Porsche but it is quite frankly the exact opposite. Kinn starts the game firmly in Korn's court and then starts oving towards Porsche’s side. Every time there is a conflict with Porsche, Kinn does exactly what Korn asks him to do. That changes in ep 7. Korn explicitly tells him to come back to his old self and Kinn does the exact opposite and entrenches himself more in his relationship with Porsche. That is the first time he disobeys. And that leads to an interesting shift in his and Korn's interactions. Korn changes his entire approach to their relationship. He is neutral during the Tawan debacle, then reluctantly agreeing and then finally almost enthusiastically supportive. And this development is almost exactly proportionate to the deepening of Kinn and Porsche's relationship. The more they love each other, the less Korn challenges Kinn to stand against Porsche. So while I believe he is using Kinn to control Porsche, he is also using Porsche to control Kinn.

Which brings me to the motive behind Korn and Porsche holding themselves back. While Porsche is doing this because he literally cannot bear to hurt Kinn, Korn is doing this because a status quo is the only way he can maintain his winning hand. Cuz let's face it, when we imagine what could happen if Kinn is forced into such a situation where he has to choose between Korn and Porsche, Korn is the one who has a losing hand. In such a situation, if the truth is heinous enough, we know Kinn would not stop Porsche. Oh he would probably stop him from going to the extent of killing his father but he would not stand in the way of anything else. In that situation, Porsche could rightly demand justice or he could offer forgiveness, he could leave and take Kinn with him. Maybe he wouldn't have a full win because Kinn would still be hurt but it would be a win nonetheless. But Korn on the other hand? Say Porsche exposes the truth - he would lose Kinn altogether. Say he turns Kinn against Porsche and tells him to eliminate him - there are two possibilities here, one, Kinn doesn't (let's face it, no one believes Kinn could actually shoot Porsche even in the face of an obvious betrayal), in which case Porsche wins and two, where Kinn does, in which case Porsche also wins albeit in a more tragic manner (because killing Porsche would completely destroy Kinn and Korn would be left with an unhinged, destroyed man as his heir, forever living in fear of Kinn discovering the truth).

So for Korn, it is of optimal importance that the balance be not upset at the moment which is why I believe he seemed so happy to see them so loved up at the end. He needs them to distract each other enough to not call him out on his bullshit because the moment one of them do, his house of cards are gonna come tumbling down. And if I were in Korn's position, I would have realised how unstable this solution was. And I think he does realise that, which is why he blatantly endangers Kinn's life like that. In fact, I think he is aiming to consolidate his powers through Kinn and Porsche and then take them out of the game and instate Kim as the final successor. Except he doesn't realise that would never happen cuz -

a. Kim left this life behind voluntarily and he is onto Papa Korn.

b. It is obvious from even that 10 sec clip that he loves and cares about Kinn a lot.

c. this is after all the romance genre and he already has his destiny written out as malewife extraordinaire just like his brother and cousin.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

October 29th

Costumes

Oh, Russingon - my curse, my downfall, my fatal weakness - there you are.

Too many people deserve a mention and I quail at the idea of disturbing those revered authors in their peace with my silly little ficlet, so - ever the coward - I will abstain.

Nonetheless, it would be dishonest not to mention last-capy-hupping and arofili for being such lovely inspirations and supporters. Never forgotten also the amazing people thanked in my TRSB fics who have helped me figure things out.

Here they are, the pairing that changed everything, pulled me through TRSB, and made me go on writing for the Silm...the couple that made me go back on all my principles...

Here is the testament to "Bittersweet and strange, finding you can change, learning you were wrong..."

There's been a lot of discourse running through my head lately and I'm weirdly reticent to post this one...I guess I'm just afraid of what might happen...here goes nothing...

Words: 738

Warnings: LGBTQ+ characters, half-cousin incest, cross-dressing, trans!Fingon...the whole shablam 🙈

“I am so not going to wear this!” Maedhros grunted and glared at Fingon who was holding up a lumpy, oddly spotted, limp piece of fabric that looked suspiciously like a tent with sloppy a giraffe print plastered all over it.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Fingon purred, stepping closer and throwing aside his decoy costume to push his hands into the luscious mane of his lover’s hair; he loved every single strand of it and it was its glory that had inspired his real concept for this Halloween. “How brave are you, my handsome one?”

Maedhros gave a deep sigh; he knew that tone only too well and – after many long discussions – they had finally decided to wear matching costumes. It was not an official admission of their relationship status per se, but it was already a big step away from stealing kisses and pretending not to know each other too intimately when other people were around.

“I am not afraid of the costume,” Maedhros griped, “I just don’t want to look like a fool.”

Vulnerability and vanity painted his face a flaming crimson, but Fingon only repeated his question in a soft, tender, encouraging voice while he peppered small kisses along the ridge of Maedhros’ jaw. 

“As long as you’re with me, valiant, reckless Finno, I can be very brave indeed,” he replied in a moment of foolish, cocky courage. “Bring it on!”

Reaching under his bed, Fingon produced a long tube, shimmering in dazzling reddish colours in the dimmed light of his bedside lamp and held it up to Maedhros’ body with a quizzical look on his face.

“Finno,” Maedhros growled warningly; there was – in his opinion – no way he’d fit into the criminally narrow garment that would, if he was to succeed against all odds, hug every non-existent curve of his bony body.

The reference picture on Fingon’s phone showed the drawing of a busty redhead with a smouldering gaze and a sensual mouth.

“Jessica Rabbit,” Fingon whispered, “the second-hottest ginger in the world.”

“Second to whom?” Maedhros grinned, taking the dress from him and rubbing the thin, flexible material between his thumb and forefinger pensively; his blood roared with an elating mix of excitement and dread.

“You, of course,” Fingon laughed and nodded at his wardrobe, “I’ll go as her sometimes-ex and often-husband, Roger Rabbit.” There was such raw, bare-faced, disarming hope in his face that Maedhros felt his neck melt; he nodded even while every fibre of his being bristled at the idea of letting everyone see just how pale and angular he was. 

If it would make Fingon – who was ready and willing to wear a poofy rabbit tail and formless dungarees – smile, Maedhros would not be a spoilsport.

“Okay,” he breathed, leaning forward and letting Fingon impress that beatific smile onto his own lips so he could keep it forever in his heart and memory.

“I’ve asked my sister for help,” Fingon exclaimed excitedly. “I will do your make-up and straighten your hair.”

He had been so sure, Maedhros thought, deeply moved by this discovery; Fingon had been convinced that he’d manage to talk the stuck-up, often morose and sometimes craven man he called his own into wearing a skin-tight dress. The sudden onslaught of pure, infectious joy shooting like fireworks through his whole body him laugh aloud; yes, they would have fun and confuse many a person.

“Káno will be livid,” Maedhros grinned, “when I outshine him on the dancefloor.”

Inspired and overjoyed by Maedhros’ compliance – in truth, Fingon had fretted quite a bit about this – the would-be-rabbit resolved that he wouldn’t chicken out either; for the first time ever, he’d let others see his body, the truth written in pale scars – barely visible now – running along the underside of his pectorals, and the ridiculously slender wrists he felt so self-conscious about still.

“You’ll be the prettiest,” he promised Maedhros who seemed to grow ever more thrilled about the prospect of earning his mother-name by being undeniably beautiful. “And I’ll be the proudest critter at that rotten ball. Your brother will swallow his tongue out of sheer envy!”

It was a ludicrous way to come out, Maedhros thought hazily, a ridiculous proclamation of resilience, a preposterous declaration of love, but – the more he thought about it, the surer he grew – it would reflect and represent them, and all that they were underneath the polite and polished surface, perfectly.

@fellowshipofthefics here's one that's near and dear to my heart.

Lots of love from me...Please refrain from being needlessly cruel...I am just one person trying to put out some love; I've never meant to hurt/offend/anger anyone!

-> Masterlist

[lunastars21]

Well since I've been rambling about Fang's family, imma talk about the other two Hooligan member's family next!

First off is Beans family who live in a big pink flower field, ya know this is canon right! Bean is the son of bin the duck from dynamite duxs! If ya never heard of it look it up it's pretty cool and a short arcade game!

There's also his uncle Pin the Duck and technically his grandma Lucy who is the pink skinned human, the game states bin and Pin are pets to Lucy, so I guess you could say she's their mom, while bin and Pin are brothers. So that makes bean Lucy's grandchild! Though his mom is never mentioned or told to have exist, I say it was a nice lady woodpecker that met bin one day, but later on had a limited time because she was sick. Which explains why bean has woodpecker moves in sonic the fighters, maybe he is a hybrid too? But he really is mostly duck.

Bin and Pin are both experts at using all kinds of weaponry than just bombs, they can use rocket launchers, machine guns, even throw rocks at you to get through! They had to do all that to save Lucy in their game. Though, Lucy nowadays can fight, but she's still practicing on that, her punches and high kicks aren't to be underestimated! That way she'll never get captured again and focus on being with her boys ^^.

The hooligans first met bean's family when laying low for a while as the cops were really after them at one point, so bin told bean that they are welcomed to stay over for a few days till things calm down. The family don't mind that they're practically criminals, they just care about seeing bean happy and that's what matters! Lucy loves Fang and Bark, they're so fluffy and she always hugs them when they come to visit (despite fang's protest of getting hugs) She even prepares tons of food for them as well. Bin is okay with fang and bark, he'd sometimes tell them of his adventures, or advice on how to take out enemies, that way the duo can protect bean when things are dire. Pin isn't really a fan of these criminals, but if bean likes them then he doesn't mind, He sometimes has smoke breaks with fang outside the house, and is usually training to be prepared in case something tries to kidnap Lucy again.

Next is bark's family! They're just a very very very VERY large group of polar bears! Which adults is bark's parents? Who knows! Each one is like a mom or dad to him, and bark refuses to tell bean and fang who is the biological one, it's just funny that way and less complicated, so he says. He has a buncha cousins, brother's and sisters, nephews, uncle's and aunts..it's a lot to keep track of so it makes sense to rather keep it simple. His family really love to fight! No matter what time of day or date, there's always some polar bears fighting in a ring outside in the aura icefields. Their opinions on team Hooligan is split into two sides, one side supports them and enjoy hearing their endeavors to snag some money! The other half not so much, they're worried they'll get bark in serious danger and even threaten that if bark's hurt then fang and bean are digging their own graves. (Bark has to get the two out of there and calm that side down) nonetheless, they all support bark on his journey, why? Because he's fighting! When bark was living with them he'd refuse to fight in any way, only focusing on his hobbies like cooking or writing poetry. So when the family heard he's now working for the hooligans and fighting to protect them, they were excited, as long as he fights they really don't care! But they want him to play safe as well.

Despite the threats, Fang and Bean do get treated well in their visits. The first time they came over they were practically surrounded by the bears, given food, plenty of new clothes, it was like visiting your uncle's and aunts that you haven't seen in a few years and they go "look how much you've grown!" And such. Bean doesn't mind it! Free stuff! While fang is just annoyed by the constant talking..but the aura icefields are pretty, and the cubs seem to like hearing his adventures and giving him praise so it's not all that bad.

Though, very cold, do bring sweaters when visiting, bean forgot to bring his like an idiot and was practically freezing till they got there.

Well that's enough of my rambling :3 imma go flop now!

[deandrethompsonjr]

Character name: DeAndre “DJ” Thompson Jr.

Age: 25.

Gender identification: Cis Male.

Preferred pronouns: He/Him.

Residential area: Gastown.

Occupation: Production Assistant / Twitch Streamer.

Length of time in Vancouver:  His whole life / split time between Cali and VC from 2020-2022, has been back full time for 6 months.

BIOGRAPHY.

The last born of the Thompson family, DJ was a surprise for his parents and his brother and sister before him, but a treasured one nonetheless. Starting out life bearing his father’s full name as his own felt like a heavy task even as a child, expectations placed on him that he wasn’t sure how to live up to and shoes to fill that were too big for his feet.

While DeAndre Sr. and Alma weren’t the most outwardly affectionate couple towards each other, DJ grew up in a stable home with two parents who at least tried to give their children a sense of normalcy. It was because of this that he felt comfortable exploring his own endless creativity. From a young age, he was always drawn to the fantastical – comic books, movies, tv, anything and everything that let him access something that felt bigger than himself.

As he got older, those interests only deepened and broadened, with anime and gaming joining the fold and stealing away his spare time outside of his school and family obligations. Like an excitable puppy, he got a reputation for himself of getting carried away when taking about the things that made him happy and the word Motormouth was thrown around often.

While he tried out various sports to try and emulate his older brother, none of them stuck for him, bar an interest in American football that he developed once he formed a strong friendship with an American called Darius who used to visit Vancouver regularly when he was a child.

There was no question of what he wanted to pursue in third level education, he had settled on wanting to study film from the age of twelve when he first realised that was something that could be studied. His sights had always been set on doing so in NYU, but that changed swiftly when his mother all but forbade it and told him he would have no support from her if he insisted.

Gutted but undeterred, he decided to instead attended University in Canada, and he completed a Bachelor of Fine Arts in University of British Columbia, Vancouver. At 22 following his graduation and motivated by a heartache he couldn’t fully move passed, DJ decided that he needed a change of scenery entirely which was how he came to find himself relocating to Los Angeles to work as a film production assistant.

While he had some success with it, he fast found the town wasn’t his vibe and he missed home, his family in particular. He managed just over two and a half years in California before deciding to return to Vancouver and restart his life where it had began.

PERSONALITY.

+ extroverted, tolerant, excitable. 

- frivolous, indecisive, impatient. 

FUN ADJACENT FACTS.

he’s bisexual.

has a modestly successful twitch following that he’s very diligent about sticking to his streaming schedule for. mostly gaming focused. 

huuuuge sponebob fan. genuinely believes that show has bettered humanity. 

has 2 spongebob related tattoos. 

the bebe of his siblings and truly lives up to that because he goes running to them for most things. 

hates being called anything but dj unless it’s by family. 

CURRENT CONNECTIONS.

undiscovered half-brother of @raleighrose

production assistant for @nimaabbasi’s podcast

ex almost of @jjaspr

cousin of @nolan-barnes

roommate to @decholmes​

close friend of @dariusxanderson​

former neighbour / past hook up of @jordanmitchell

unrequited crush-er of @orionlaurent

SPECIFIC WANTED CONNECTIONS.

childhood friends: he grew up here so folks he’s been tight with since school yard days would be super fun to plot out. 

his older siblings: brother and a sister, currently around 34 and 32 respectively. 

a mentor: any muse with their life together who can show him how to do that. bonus points if they’re film industry connected or adjacent. 

to be added.

GENERIC WANTED CONNECTIONS.

connections wise he’s pretty much an open book right now, but some baseline ideas that can be springboarded off are:

friendly.

a best friend / ride or dies / close friends / childhood friends / pseudo-siblings / friends / drunk friends / new friends / former university roommates (he went to ubc) / people with local businesses he worked at during summers and school breaks / former neighbours / current neighbours. 

romantic

flirtationship / friends with benefits / one time hook ups / tinder matches / unrequited crush (can be either way) / exes from high school / exes from his twenties / an ex or two from california / exes on good terms.

antagonistic.

enemies / former (best) friends / exes on bad terms / frenemies / rivals / negative influence / a close friendship that disintegrated into animosity (can be one sided or mutual). 

[bakuliwrites]

Fan Apprentice Bakuli- Basic Backstory

Bakuli was born to a Prakran mother and a father who hailed from a tribe similar to the Scourge of the South (but lesser known). Her relationship with her father is strained, but they have since mended their relationship. Her mother and father parted ways when she was young, so she really only sees her father once every few years. Bakuli has two younger brothers and a younger sister, and a number of cousins that all live in Prakra. Growing up with a somewhat absent father was really difficult, but Bakuli’s family was really supportive.

As a child, Bakuli mostly lived in Prakra with her siblings, her mother, and much of her extended family. During the summers, she and her entire family would visit her grandmother, who lived in Vesuvia and ran a magic shop. This magic shop has been in Bakuli’s family for generations, passed down on her maternal side. Summers were marvelous in Vesuvia. Bakuli fell in love with the canals and the markets, deciding that when she was old enough, she would move to Vesuvia. 

Magic is extremely important in Bakuli’s family. All of the children start learning it as early as possible from the older members. At a young age, Bakuli and her siblings discover they are adept at healing (from their grandmother), elemental magic (especially electricity, from their mother), and celestial magic (they suspect from their father, though he didn’t practice magic much). She and her siblings are particularly mischievous when it comes to magic, so they constantly played pranks on one another in their youth. 

Bakuli has fond memories of her childhood. She was very close to her grandmother and continues to be very close to her mother and siblings/cousins. Unfortunately, Bakuli’s grandmother passed away when Bakuli was young, leaving the shop to Bakuli’s mother and aunts to run. Her family moves to Vesuvia, much to Bakuli’s delight, but things are really tough for a while. Running the shop is a lot of work, but they are able to find their flow. Bakuli’s family is very positive, so even when things are hard, they always look on the bright side.

Bakuli’s skill with magic and her desire to stay in Vesuvia led her mother to believe that she would do a great job running the shop. So, when Bakuli turns twenty-one, her mother and aunts leave the shop to her and retire, traveling the world together and offering their magical services all over the place. Bakuli is delighted to run the shop in her mother’s stead. She and her siblings part ways, but they still see each other frequently. Her brothers are explorers that study the flora and fauna of the world, using their magic to help revitalize endangered plant species and to heal injured animals. Her younger sister is a talented artist, living in Prakra. 

Eventually, Bakuli meets Asra. The two strike up a friendship, which blossoms into romance. Asra moves into the shop with Bakuli and aids her in running it. Things are good for a while, until the plague hits Vesuvia. Asra and Bakuli argue over whether they should stay behind to help or flee to safety. Ultimately, they part ways, with Asra leaving Vesuvia and Bakuli staying behind. She misses her family greatly, but doesn’t want to risk spreading the plague elsewhere, so she quarantines herself in Vesuvia. During the plague, she loses a number of her friends to it and vows to find a cure.

Eventually, Bakuli is hired by the palace to aid in the search for a cure. Much of her aid is in the ways of healing magic, but when she becomes an apprentice to Julian Devorak, she picks up some first aid/medical skills. She also acts as a therapist for people in search of help with their mental health.

Bakuli is pretty taken with Julian upon first meeting him. She’s quite shy with him at first, but his charm and the ease with which he gets along with others really opens her up. They become fast friends. She finds Count Lucio exceedingly irritating and monumentally incompetent, but is intrigued by him, nonetheless. She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she found him quite handsome, despite her better judgement. And she likes to see the good in people (for better or worse). This aspect of Bakuli makes her rather naive at times and makes her a bit too trusting. There’s strange tension between her, Lucio, and Julian, but none of them feel capable of doing anything about it at first.

Ultimately, she, Julian, and Lucio enter into a secret, ill-advised relationship (I don’t really think Lucio or Julian really understand the meaning of the word “secret,” so it’s as secret as they are capable of keeping it, haha). Bakuli often feels conflicted about her relationship with Lucio. She's never been particularly up to date with the politics in Vesuvia, having been too busy caring for her family and the shop. The more she learns about Lucio, the less sure she is she wants to pursue anything with him. In fact, it sets off a lot of her anxiety and she struggles with her OCD and depression for a long while.

Bakuli catches the plague during her time at the palace. When she finally succumbs to her illness, the relationship between Julian and Lucio breaks down entirely. 

When Bakuli returns, she teams up with Julian to clear his name of guilt. Though they both have fragmented memories, they’re able to sense familiarity between each other. Romance blossoms swiftly between the two. When they struggle to come up with any solid evidence, they decide that the only person who can really clear Julian’s name is Lucio himself, so they seek out the former-count. Lucio’s ghost is bound to both of them now, and the three of them journey to figure out who really killed Lucio, and to defeat the Devil. 

Their journey is tumultuous and rife with stress. Julian and Lucio harbor a lot of animosity towards one another, and Bakuli often feels caught in the middle. But she refuses to be a mediator for them, telling them that if the three of them want their relationship to heal, they each have a part to play in the process. The road to healing between them all is a long one, one that spans beyond the events of the game. 

Bakuli tends towards an anxious personality and she suffers from OCD. She gets really stressed when she feels like she isn’t in control of her choices or path in life. She also tends to be a people pleaser, so this is really just a mess of a combination. She vacillates between wanting everyone to be happy and then getting frustrated when she sacrifices certain things to make everyone else happy. She feels a lot of obligation to her family and to doing what she thinks they want her to do. Her journey is one of discovering what it is that she wants and making choices for herself. She too easily gets caught up in other people’s problems and is at risk of losing herself in them.

Upright Ending: Bakuli, Julian, and Lucio successfully defeat the Devil and clear Julian’s name. Bakuli learns to stand up for herself and not enable both her own and other people’s bad behavior. Julian learns that it’s okay to want things for himself and to move beyond his self-sacrificing ways. Lucio is slowly becoming a better person and recognizing his faults, but he ultimately parts ways with Bakuli and Julian. He goes off to do some soul-searching and try to make amends with those he’s wronged. Meanwhile, Bakuli and Julian travel the world together and eventually purchase that ship Julian’s had his heart set on. While Julian and Bakuli are certainly very much in love, they do miss Lucio in their lives. Eventually, Lucio reunites with them and starts fresh. He joins them in their world travels and the three get close again. When they tire of journeying, Julian, Lucio, and Bakuli settle down in Vesuvia again. Bakuli takes up running her shop again, with Asra’s aid. Julian opens up a clinic next door. And Lucio devotes his services to repairing Vesuvia and making it a better place. The three marry in a quiet celebration in Autumn (which is followed by a massive party, per-Lucio’s request). Not long after, the pitter-patter of little feet can be heard wandering the halls of their home by the sea. Julian, Lucio, and Bakuli have three children together, and live the rest of their lives happily ever after. 

Reversed Ending: Bakuli gets sucked into Julian and Lucio’s issues. She focuses so much on their problems, she doesn’t stop to think of her own mental health. She loses control of her own path and it breeds sorrow and animosity in her. I see two possible paths after this. The first possible path is that this sparks a fury in Bakuli that draws her towards the polar opposite of her usual tendency to please people. Bakuli takes the Devil’s deal and becomes the Devil herself. She’s spent so much time enabling her own bad behavior, Julian’s bad behavior, and Lucio’s bad behavior, that she simply becomes tired of the whole situation and snaps. Julian and Lucio join her court. Bakuli becomes someone who refuses to ever look back at her people pleasing ways and acts only in self-interest now. In her Devil form, she gains ring-like spots that flash blue (much like a blue ringed octopus, though the spots also represent her patron Arcana, the Chariot) and her hair flows/undulates like tentacles in the water. She has azure eyes and cloven hooves, and a pair of sharp, curving horns. 

The second possible path would be that, after getting sucked into Julian and Lucio’s problems, Bakuli loses herself entirely, sacrificing her magical abilities to try to return things back to normal. But it doesn’t work. Julian, Lucio, and Bakuli are unsuccessful in defeating the Devil and get trapped in the merged realms. The three of them are eternally bound to one another, existing in this strange liminal space, with no ability to escape. Lucio ends up taking the place of the Devil, Julian transforms like he does in his own reversed ending, and Bakuli eternally searches for ways to reverse what’s been done. Her deck of tarot cards are scattered across the merged realm. She can hear their agonizing cries echoing in her mind, reaching out as if trying to call her to them. She obsessively searches for them, trying to recompile the deck, with Julian at her side. Lucio tries to convince them to join him, but both Julian and Bakuli refuse.

[m-printed]

# 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂

friends of his first love - mark's true circle includes those who were once close to his first love, perhaps offering insights or memories of a time when things were simpler. he leans on these people for the most support. babysitter for callie - a trusted individual who provides care and support for callie, offering mark peace of mind when he's away and ensuring callie's safety and well-being. related to callie / in laws- individuals connected through familial ties to callie, representing a unique blend of family dynamics and responsibilities that shape mark's life in unexpected ways. since mark shares custody with callie's grandmother, aunts, uncles, cousins all relationships are welcome from callie's mother's side. parent friends - fellow parents who share in the joys and challenges of raising children, offering mark insight and understanding as they navigate the complexities of parenthood together. family - blood relatives who form the cornerstone of mark's support system, providing love, guidance, and a sense of belonging that grounds him in times of uncertainty. found family - individuals who may not be bound by blood but are nonetheless integral to mark's life, offering unwavering support and acceptance as chosen family members. best friend - a confidant and companion who knows mark inside and out, offering unwavering loyalty, laughter, and a shoulder to lean on in times of need. this person is also callie's godparent friend group - a diverse assortment of individuals who come together to form a tight-knit social circle, offering mark a sense of belonging in shared experiences and adventures. childhood friends /friends who grew apart - individuals from mark's past who share a history of shared experiences, whether they've remained close over the years or drifted apart due to life's twists and turns. ex-friends for other reasons - individuals who were once close to mark but are no longer part of his life due to reasons unrelated to growing apart. dislike for one another - individuals with whom mark shares a mutual animosity or conflict, adding tension and drama to his social interactions. neighbors at the kingpin - fellow residents of the kingpin neighborhood, offering both a sense of community and potential sources of conflict as they navigate shared spaces and resources. neighbor enemies - individuals who live in close proximity to mark but harbor animosity or resentment toward him, resulting in friction and tension in their interactions. roommate - a cohabitant who shares living space with mark, representing a dynamic relationship that oscillates between friendship and conflict. unlikely friendships - connections that defy expectations, bringing together individuals from vastly different backgrounds or perspectives in unexpected ways. always see each other at 711 - a recurring encounter with someone at the local convenience store, forging a unique bond through shared routines and chance meetings amidst the aisles of snacks and slurpees. ex hook up from two years ago - someone with whom mark shared a brief romantic or physical connection in the past when his ex first went missing, whose presence still lingers as a reminder of fleeting intimacy and unresolved feelings. emergency contact - a trusted individual designated to act on mark's behalf in times of crisis, providing vital support and assistance when he needs it most. this person knows which medications he takes, etc. good influence - someone who inspires mark to be his best self, offering guidance, encouragement, and positive reinforcement as he strives to reach his goals and aspirations. bad influence - an individual whose presence leads mark astray, tempting him with risky behaviors or poor decisions that challenge his morals and values.

╰┈➤ more in depth plots here & anything in this tag as well

[saleeba]

the baby-making manual ; william saliba

summary ♡ baby fever hits the salibas full force.

pairing ♡ william saliba x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, husband!william, kissing, p in v sex, cunnilingus, reader & wilo are so broody & so in love with each other, missionary, doggystyle, riding, lotus position (yes i’m fucking depraved don’t look at me like that 🤕), soft romantic vibes, breeding kink, praise, body worship, size kink ofccc, clitoral stimulation, titplay, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it unless ur name is y/n and ur starring in this fic 🥸), creampie(s), a smidgen of cockwarming, blink and u miss the one french word in here, talks about having kids, aftercare included !!

a/n ♡ the title is so goofy & nobody asked for this but the concept has been eating at my mind since the end of summer + i've had this in the drafts since oct so i gotta put me first lucius 😫😩😫😩😫 anyway this is day one of converting you all into wilo girlies hehe WAKE UP WORLD‼️ pls lmk how u all find this fic btw!! ik it won’t get as much attention as my jude ones bc there prob aren’t as many fans but i rlly would appreciate anything u have to say about it !!! 🫶🏽🥰 enjoyyyy mes chéris!! 😌❤️

an unexpectedly warm spring’s saturday had given cause to an impromptu barbecue held by your parents, and you and william had found yourselves in the company of most of your relatives for the day. how your mother had convinced half the family tree to be present on such short notice you will never know but you were grateful nonetheless, extremely happy to especially see the loved ones you haven’t seen since getting married to your now-husband a couple of years ago.

it’s close to eleven in the night now, your arrival at home being so belated due to the clash between your insistence that you and william had to go home as he had training the next morning and your father’s greater insistence that the two of you stay a little longer for another cup of tea, another plate of food, even the whole night if you wanted to. in the end, you had to put a politely firm foot down, more for william’s sake who can’t say no to your parents for the life of him, and who was on his way to accepting your dad’s invitation to stay the night before you spoke up. you knew the events of last night would repeat for the morning, your parents in a tug-of-war with you to make you guys stay for breakfast but you supported your case with the argument of the long drive home and the fact that mikel wouldn’t appreciate william’s tardiness the next day, especially at such a significant time in the season. 

you’re sitting in bed by yourself right now with a novel in hand – william having gone to take a much-needed relaxing shower – inwardly laughing to yourself over your husband’s people-pleasing antics and your mind meanders to the scenes of this afternoon, the sounds of children’s laughter and adults’ gossip in the air accompanied with the smokey scent of grilled food taking over your senses. you reencounter images of william chasing your little cousins, nieces and nephews around the garden — small, sweet giggles mixed with william’s deeper chuckles as they’re all engaged in an exhilarating game of tag, little feet and large padding around the property. 

your thoughts are pulled back into reality when the ensuite door clicks open, a cloud of steam puffing into the bedroom before it reveals your husband clad in nothing but a white towel around his waist, droplets of water dotted on his toned chest and abdomen. it’s a sheer sight for sore eyes and one that you will never tire of so you shamelessly watch as he smiles at you before gliding across the room, moving to his vanity to apply generous amounts of body lotion to bring back moisture to his skin, the action making his skin glow so prettily under the warm lighting of the bedroom. 

it’s these moments of silent appreciation that have you feeling like the luckiest girl in the universe; an adonis of a lover in your bedroom, one that would move heaven and earth at your beck and call, and there’s denying that you would do the same for him. 

in all your daydreaming, william’s moved on to pulling his pajamas on for bedtime, a pair of dark grey boxer shorts acting as said pajamas as he opts to go shirtless in fear of overheating on such a toasty night. you place your novel down, the previously read page distinguished with a bookmark, as william places a soft kiss on your forehead before tucking you both in under the thin sheets. 

“mum was really bad with the baby talk this time, wasn’t she?” you turn your body on its spot, head propped up by a bend of your arm as you face william who lifts his head at your rhetoric question. “i mean, you did look so fucking adorable with the kids today so i don’t know if i should say sorry on her behalf.” 

“not at all,” he only lets out a breathy laugh, now mirroring you in the shift of his own body. “i’ve had most people asking me about it now.”

“really?” 

you’re quite shocked to learn that there are indeed a lot of people who are eager to see william and yourself have a family of your own and that it’s not just pestering from your mother in particular, who has asked about when she will be seeing grandchildren from her daughter and “favourite son-in-law” from the moment the two of you had just about exchanged rings. you’ve grown accustomed to answering with the same old ‘we want to focus on us/our careers/our freedom’ response but there’s a little curious something that’s pulling the two of you to consider everyone’s requests.

“mmhm, i think i could count the number of people at the club that have asked me about it using my hands and my feet,” the pair of you laugh at this, a shake of your head over how believable that comment is despite it sounding so silly since the environment of your husband’s workplace is so close-knit and everyone is comfortable with each other. “it’s not just that, though, is it?” 

“no?” you question his tone turned serious now.

“when i see the guys and their kids, i can’t help wondering what i might be like in those sorts of situations, y’know?” you sit up at his words, heart racing a little faster with the way he looks at you; looks into you as he again copies your movements, taking your hands in his after leaning his shoulder against the headboard. “can’t help wondering what it would be like seeing you and a mini version of us in the stands during a match… wanna see our baby matching shirts with their papa, wanna hear their tiny voice cheer my name…”

you swear you feel your heart stop as soon as his lips form the words ‘our baby’. 

“oh, william,” you sigh over his thoughts spoken aloud, a slight pang of guilt hitting at your heartstrings and causing your eyes to tear up just a little. “why didn’t you tell me about all this, hm?”

you had no idea of his desire to have children, always assuming his response to everyone’s questions to be the same as yours and believing that he wanted to prioritise football over starting a family with you for at least a couple more years. 

“it’s not your fault, sweetheart, not at all.” his fingers swipe under your eyes in precaution against any spilt tears. “having a baby, hell, even wanting a baby... it’s a big deal; it’s hard to just drop it into a conversation if that makes sense.”

“of course, that makes plenty of sense,” his hands grip yours in a tight embrace, placing a kiss on the slightly trembling digits in an attempt to soothe you. “you really want to have a baby with me?”

william laughs softly at your words and the way you sit with your mouth gaping, starry-eyed with a million thoughts racing through your mind. 

“no, i want to have a baby with mrs khan next door.” he deadpans, referring to your elderly neighbour, before you shove at his shoulder, a blush overcoming your cheeks as you realise how daft your question is, disbelief over how much william wants to be a dad seeping into the way you’re thinking right now. “you’re the only woman that i want as the mother of my children, y/n, the only one.”

his eyes look even more beautiful in the peek of moonlight through the curtains and you fear your heart may give out tonight, squeezing so hard in your chest with the love that you feel for your husband.

“can i kiss you, baby?” he asks so politely, thumb running over the plumpness of your bottom lip. even after so many years together, he’s always the gentleman but still, you tell him that he doesn’t need to ask anymore — you are his to have as he is yours.

his lips descend upon yours with a gentle force, hands clasping over your waist where the black silk material of your short nightdress stops him from touching the warmth of your soft skin. instead, william decides to pick you up and place you on his lap, the urge to feel your body as close to his as possible controlling his actions, your knees dropping to either side of him as your clothed chest meets his bare one. 

as the kiss deepens on what seems like its own accord, you feel yourself growing wetter, thankful for your earlier decision to forgo underwear for the night as you grind down onto william’s lap, the cotton of his boxers creating delicious friction on where you need it the most. 

breathless sighs turn into light moans from the two of you as william tightens his grip on your waist with the same strength your core presses down onto his hardening length before he turns you both over to have you on your back, his form hovering over yours, lips ghosting over the nook where your neck meets your shoulders, leaving an eruption of goosebumps in its trail. 

in the pleasured shutting of your eyes, you can feel william’s hands pull down the loose straps of your nightdress, then a kiss on each shoulder and then the heat of his breath over your exposed breasts. 

“so beautiful, darling,” he looks up to your blushing face, the compliment painting a shy smile on it before his lips wrap around your left nipple with wasting any time. a whine is pulled from your lungs over the way william suckles on the nub, a tiny tug of it between his teeth causing you to arch your chest further into his mouth. of course, he doesn’t forget to pay attention to your right boob, taking his sweet time in kissing and swirling his tongue around the stiffness of the other side. “how did i get so lucky, hmm?”

you whimper in response as he brushes his lips down your body over your nightdress; from under your breasts, over your navel and arriving at the base of your tummy, where he places the firmest kiss of them all atop of the lustrous material. 

“william…” 

“gonna take care of you, baby, i promise.”

his hands now come down to your thighs, where the inner parts are sticky with arousal, and he hoists the hem of your dress up past your bellybutton, the pressing together of your legs to soothe the ache of your core as a light breeze hits it inciting your husband to part them and find home in the self-made gap. his head lowers to where your pussy lays nearly leaking onto the sheets and your breaths quicken, reaching an all-time rapid high when william plants a kiss on your clit, one so soft that it would’ve been deemed innocent had it not been in the midst of an action so filthy. 

in the ‘o’-shapedness of your mouth, amorous sighs escape as he starts his attack on your wetness — mouth open, tongue out, lapping at your juices as you sing his praises in the form of high-pitched moans. his tongue slips past your drenched folds to find your sopping hole, the tip of it poking past your entrance as he’s full-on eating you out now, open-mouthed moans from the simple pleasure of your pussy on his lips almost drowning out your sounds. 

there’s a particularly lusty moan from you when his thumb finds your tense clit, a couple of rubs on it releasing a string of cries out of the confines of your lips as your legs tremble from their position on his shoulders. from the very beginning of your married life, william had made it his mission to become well-acquainted with you in the bedroom, and you think he’s succeeded as the way he knows which buttons to press to get you to cum at his mercy is very telling, fingers working expertly in toying with your sensitive nub as your walls clench around nothing but the conjured-up image of cumming all over his mouth and pretty face. 

“william… i-” you start but are soon interrupted by the intense sucking of your already pounding clit between his moistened lips. the wail you let leave your body is almost pitiful, the feeling so fucking good but so sudden and unexpected that you fall head-first into your orgasm, crashing into it with a spasm of your thighs around william’s head, pawing at his dark hair for some inkling of relief and grounding since you truly believe you’re about to lose all sense of reality with how strong this orgasm has hit you. 

william doesn’t relent despite your convulsions, placing kisses over your clenching pussy and shaky abdomen. you manage to still your involuntary motions to catch a glimpse of his face in all its glory; his lips glistening wet with your release and his eyes darker than ever, impossible to distinguish the colour of his pupils from the colour of his irises, an unfolding plan of what’s to come for you both behind his soft gaze.

“did so, so good for me, my love,” he praises, kissing you through panting breaths from the both of you. “want to feel you around me, fuck, need to feel you around me, baby.” 

you go to deny him at first, nestling your hand against the bulge of his boxers but he’s quick to deny you in turn. 

“no, baby, tonight’s for you, ok? just wanna take care of everything— take care of you.” 

you nod in acceptance, knowing that arguing with him would be futile, a gentle flame in his eyes telling you of his determination to do nothing but be at your service until the sun comes up.

“how do you want me first, amour?” 

you almost swoon at the question, unable to believe that you essentially have this man at your mercy now, getting dizzy over choosing whether you want to ride him into oblivion first or save that for later and have him take you from behind to start with. either way, you know that tonight was no night for a meagre one round.  

“how about as we are right now?” you suggest, the current arrangement of you on your back and william on top proving perfectly convenient for you guys to start with your favourite position in bed.

“sounds perfect, baby,” he smiles before getting up to rid his body of those grey boxers and then almost leaning over you to pull a condom from the nightstand before he stops himself midway, the both of you realising that this is a habit that will need to be unlearnt now. a pair of giggles erupts between you and a silent agreement to forget the condom for the whole purpose of tonight is sealed with a rerouted kiss from william. he then prompts you to lift your hips so he can slot a pillow underneath them and have you as comfortable as you can get. you can’t resist biting your bottom lip at the pulsating anticipation between the two of you, the sight of his bare cock admittedly making your mouth water. 

now back on the bed and parting your legs, william resituates himself in between, this time with his cock in his hand running down your increasingly dripping slit, the occasional dip past your folds making you wince in an addictive combination of overstimulation and urgency. 

“shit, angel, i’m sorry,” his apology is sincere as he searches your eyes for signs of discomfort. “we don’t have to do this right now, we can take a break, do you want me to ge–”

“babe, i’m fine, okay?” you huff out a laugh, your husband’s honestly innocent face tickling your tummy and making your core ache even more. “j-just fuck me, will, please?” 

his answer comes in the guise of an assured smooch against your swollen lips, taking the quiet opportunity to sink into your wetness, completely raw for the first time, with a loud deep groan that makes your stomach feel like it’s gloriously folding in on itself. you revel in finally having the naked thickness of his cock inside you, experiencing every ridge, vein and inch of smoothness directly between your gummy walls with a hushed fuck before he gets to work on setting a moderate pace — slow and savouring it seems, his way of saying that he wants this to last as long as it possibly can. 

"william… so big..." no matter how many times you've been under him and how many times you say it, it will always ring true; the initial stretch and burn that his cock creates for you will always light a fire of delicious friction, tonight being a million times more special than every previous encounter put together. and no matter how many times william hears it, it will always set his mind ablaze, hips now pistoning at an unfathomable speed as he can’t hold back anymore, moaning and groaning about how good you feel uninterrupted around him, how there'll be no one else for him, how you're everything to him. it all has your pussy gushing around him to no end. 

your whimpers warn him of another impending orgasm, the tightening clasp of your cunt and the way you’re clawing at the softness of his lower tummy in sheer desperation make william’s movements falter just the slightest, a whine leaving his throat as he can feel his own climax catching up to him.

“close, baby,” he warns in sentences incomplete, brain whirring on pure pleasure and nothing else but the desire to have you cumming around him. he’s afraid that he may finish a fraction too soon and leave you disappointed so his fingers find your stiffened clit again, the caressing of his thumb a little harsher this time around as part of an effort to get you both to cum at the same time.

the pleasure you’re receiving from the touch of his thumb and the stroke of his dick is almost too much, hands willing their way to pull his off of you but the speed at which your second orgasm hits you beats any other competition to the finish line, pussy barely squeezing to trigger william’s first orgasm of the night; your lover climaxes inside of you with a sound so guttural, it has him almost collapsing against your shaking form but you invite him to do so, a tender hand on the back of his head guiding him to a safe haven in the crook of your neck as the strangely comforting feeling of thick, white liquid streams down your inner thighs. heavy breaths saturate the dimly lit room as you lay with your lover for a moment, warm bodies basking in the aftermath of a shared orgasm.

after a comfortable minute or two, william speaks up, his voice dropped to an octave so deep it relights the fire in your seeping cunt before your head can even process his words. 

“how does round two sound to you?” he’s asking amidst the plotting of a few kisses up your jawline.

you’re ready to jump his bones again on your own accord so when you hear the request fall from your husband’s lips, it’s an immediate “yes please” from you, not even bothered to feel shameful about the reeking desperation of your response.

a knowing chuckle and another kiss seal the deal, william pulling your now-creased nightdress over your outstretched arms, leaving you completely bare but free; accessible to his every touch. he asks you to turn around onto your hands and knees, setting the pillow down underneath your lower abdomen as a precaution. 

“there we go, angel,” he places a tender kiss at the bottom of your spine, running a hand up the natural curve of your back while you anticipate his next action. “gonna make my pretty girl feel so good tonight, she deserves it all.” your thighs divide instinctively in response to his voice and the sight of his cum glistening on your skin has william choking on a moan, needing to stroke his cock on the white-stained slipperiness.

“william, don’t tease,” you beg with a shake of your ass against his crotch to get him to hurry and slip his length inside of you. “can’t wait anymore.”

your husband obliges immediately, having lubricated his dick enough with his own release off your thighs, pushing into your hole with so much more ease and a filthy squelch as the realisation that the majority of his cum from the previous round is still inside of you hits him. oh, it sends william’s entire being into a lustful frenzy. 

“f-fuck, baby, listen to how well i filled you up,” he gasps out, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as the dirtiest noises he has ever heard emits from where his cock is connected to your pussy. 

you’ve done this position more times than you can count but the raw state of his dick plus the way it definitely plunges deeper from all the lubrication william has created inside you has you growing wetter beyond belief, another layer of arousal helping him reach damn near a whole new dimension of your cunt. you don’t want to lend your name to porno-fuelled incorrect biology but you swear he’s in your cervix right now, the pillow now playing its part in hoisting your bottom half up, back arching so beautifully, making it the perfect setup for william to split you in half with every thrust of his length.   

between a melody of cries of his name from your worn lips and his deeper moans, you surprisingly cum without a word of warning; it’s fast and it’s hard and it’s white-hot, almost launching your body off the bed entirely. it’s not so surprising, actually, given the speed of william’s pounding inside of your creaming pussy and the resulting splat-splat-splat noise his actions make, all of it way too much, way too depraved and addicting to try and avoid. 

“good fucking girl,” your husband grunts out at the sensation of yet another round of your pussy walls spasming around him, another round of hot cum spurting into your hole as he fills you up with an animalistic fuck! marking the round so differently from the last one, which was so full of love, this one in a tone that is much more lewd and untamed. 

you’re still on all fours, moaning softly at the flood of cum that spills out of you from around william’s dick and onto the sheets below, cunt still clenching his shaft which doesn’t seem to get any softer despite the two of you having been at it for nearly two hours without a break. your husband, sheathed still in your core, runs a series of kisses up your back, reaching the back of your ear to leave praises of how good you were for him just then and how pretty you look while he’s balls deep inside of you. eventually, he pulls out with a throaty moan, leaving you panting as you fall onto your back to look up at his fucked out expression.

william’s standing there with his hands on his hips, chest heaving, face all smiley and flushed, an image not too dissimilar to one where he’s fresh off a victory on the pitch. you wish you could take a picture of the scenery in front of you but you trust your memory to sear it into place for you instead.

“fucking hell, if i’m not pregnant by now then i don’t even know what to say!” you laugh out at the mess you’ve both made of the sheets and yourselves, and william joins in before quipping in with a “hmm, we should make sure, just in case, of course.” a cheeky tone in his voice as he snuggles his mouth against your neck, the hair on his chin tickling your skin as you squirm on the bed out of ecstatic amusement.

“okay, okay, but first we have to take a break, babe!” you manage to squeal out before william ceases his tickle attack on you, letting you go to the bathroom while he fetches a glass of water from the kitchen. 

by the time you’re finished and clean, william has the bed remade and the glass of water held out by the hand upon your return to the bedroom. you shake your head at him, bemused at this butler act he’s now performing.

“your refreshment, mrs. saliba,” he mocks what you assume to be a posh british accent, his own french one adding so much charm to it. 

“i thank you, mr. y/l/n,” you smirk back and take a sip, careful not to choke as william pushes your shoulder in jest with an oi before sitting down on the edge of the bed and watching you set the empty glass down on the nightstand. 

“so, about that making sure thing,” you pounce on his lap within a split second, settling your hands on the warmed skin of his shoulders.

william throws his head back in a hearty chuckle. “fucking hell, what was in that water?!”

“shut up and kiss me, saliba.” you command and he doesn’t dare to do anything but oblige, lips catching yours in a heated kiss that reinstalls all elements of hunger and lust inside of the pair of you. running your hands down and over the expanse of his chest has william parting his lips in a low groan, you taking the opportunity to slip your tongue inside his mouth and swallow all of his sugary sweet sounds, not wanting any ears other than your own to hear them. the resumed grinding of your naked crotch on william’s has him hardening quickly, another order from you to go lay himself down on the pillows moving scenes on as rapidly as you like. 

“good boy,” you admire the way he’s displayed himself for you, long athletic body sprawled out in all its glory, the moonlight a little brighter now that the night has really settled in. “you look so good like this, william, fuck, need to have you inside me now, baby.” a couple of tugs on his stiff cock and you’re sliding down onto it, william’s hands – slightly sweaty from excitement – holding you in place as you begin to rock and raise your body. 

there’s a harmonised whine from the two of you as you’re filled with his thickness once again, william encased in your snug, plush walls, and the swivel of your hips atop him makes his teeth grit in euphoria. seeing this spurs you on more, momentum picked up from the way william throws his head back, leaving his neck at your mercy and you of course can’t help but nip and kiss and lick over it, the sounds being pulled from his throat so saccharine and tuneful. 

he pants out with a vice-like grip on your hips, the skin white with the extreme grasp his fingers have on it. “s-slow, baby, slow…” he pleads while you rock and grind and bump into his crotch like a woman gone mad, chasing a high that is just at the tips of your fingers… just a little more. 

you whine out his name, scratching at his chest where you had previously been resting your hands for leverage, and he finds a little leeway before taking a gulp of courage and sitting up to meet the stirring of your pelvis with his, cock sputtering up into your cunt as he supports you with his large hands behind your back.

the position is possibly the most intimate you’ve been in — naked chest to naked chest, your nipples rubbing against the softness of his pecs, your knees on either side of him as his are crossed underneath you, body so much smaller than his, lips so close to touching with every jerk and bump but never really kissing, always teasing. it’s all so fucking hot and there’s nothing you want more than for him to fill you up once more. 

the knock-knock-knock of another orgasm has you pulling him so close against you, practically forcing him to shift his entire weight on top of you. you feel the need to bury him inside your skin. to be bound entirely and irrefutably. his lips, just now attached to the mounds on your chest, start rambling in his native tongue. you're not quite fluent in french but you've been with william long enough to pick up some things; the important things. through his wanton panting and sighing, he's spilling all his desires to you — telling you that he can't wait to see you swollen with his child, can’t wait to see if they’ll have his hair or your smile, can’t wait for you both to finally be the parents you had dreamed of being. there’s a fire in his words and it sets your whole body alight, scratching down his back in vicious streaks that will surely be present for the next week.

“w-william, please,” you wail, legs burning in their effort to capture your awaiting high. “put a baby in me, fuck, please, fuck a baby into me.” freshly hot tears are fully spilling down your cheeks now, the ecstasy of his cock pounding into you and the promises he’s made to you proving too much and you need relief from it all, desperately.

“gonna do just that, angel, gonna fill you up nice and good,” he moans out, pulling you in closer to his gyrating form. “gonna fill you up over and over until we get that baby.”  

and that’s the tipping point for you, your husband’s words, so sincerely sweet yet sinful, being the thing to push you over and have you cumming with a thunderous scream of his name. your pussy gushes around his rigid length, walls fluttering around it so forcefully you’re scared they’ll be stuck like this forever. william soon follows with his own orgasm, a few throaty moans that sound so pretty coming from his plump limps as they match the rhythm with which he spurts his sticky cum into you. your legs tremble in both exhaustion and bliss around william, and he’s quick to soothe them over with his hands, mouth landing kisses over your face and your chest. 

there’s only a symphony of heavy panting from you both now, and the occasional whimper or soft moan, as william lays on his back with you on top of him, large hands running up and down your back to steady your breathing, his dick still firmly in you. you're pretty sure you've forgotten what it feels like to be empty and without him.

“you okay?” he mumbles into your hair, a loving kiss left on your forehead before he tilts your chin up to look at him, your eyes weary and ready to doze off. you can only muster up an mmhmm but william is determined to end the night perfectly for you.

“hang on, baby, okay?” he requests before slowly pulling out of your heat and dashing to the bathroom where you can hear the din of him rummaging through cupboards and running the bathtub’s taps, leaving you to laze around with a pool of cum leaking out of you. the sudden crash of something metal followed by a shit! is enough to pull you out of the clasps of sleep, however.

your husband reappears swiftly, a boyishly guilty look on his face to which you raise an eyebrow. 

“everything’s fine!” he assures your silent questioning. “i want to take care of you right now, though. please?”

you flash him a tired but teasing smile in affirmation and he picks you up bridal-style, giving a quick kiss to your lips before walking you over to the bathtub and gently placing you in the comfortably warm and bubbly water where you feel your muscles instantly relax. the calmingly fragrant scent of chamomile fills your nostrils as you sigh up at your lover. 

“thank you, honey,” you speak, a slight croak to your voice from honest exhaustion. william nods at you before plotting another sweet kiss on your temple. 

“room for a little one?” he asks with a beautiful grin on his face, teeth all out in his signature style.

“always.” you scoot forwards to make room for him and he slips his much larger frame behind you, instantaneously pulling your back into his chest, hands delicately soothing over your tummy as he delivers a bunch of kisses across the plane of your shoulders. 

“sounds stupid but i already have a list of names that i wanna go over with you.” he says shyly after a moment of quiet.

you giggle and set a devoted kiss to the wedding band on his ring finger. 

“i’m all ears.”