#i love my mum but i fucking hate it when she does this

[thatgirlwithasquid]

if i had a nickle for every time my mother yelled up the stairs to get my brother’s attention before 8am this month, i’d have two nickles WHICH IS TWO TOO MANY WHAT THE FUCK MUM

[wren-kitchens]

im literally so glad depression did not take my sense of humour away because if it did I would literally just be angel from buffy and I cannot think of a fate worse than that

[becaexists]

Gotta love living at home with my parents bc everything will be just fine, enjoyable even, and then I say something and someone just explodes at me, like just now when, while all of us were watching arctic monkeys on TV, I casually joked about how I think me and my siblings are all autistic and my dad (like always) started screaming about how "they're not stupid, don't you dare say that!" And suddenly I was tired and searching for any excuse to retreat upstairs away from him

[sensazioneultra]

fatphobia is always tiring like always always but when it comes from your own family it's like. extra exhausting. it hurts soo bad. you can't ever escape it

[suguru-getos]

| Bully!Satoru Gojo x F!reader | Part 3 |

Part I, II

Summary: You had just transferred schools, and your first day was an encounter with your new bully. He’s mean, terrifically hot & absolutely a menace. Though there’s more to that personna.

Chapter Summary: After taking an off from school, you are back & Satoru is hovering around you like a looming threat. Suguru is there to defend you this time, but with your rage spiralling, you couldn’t help but ruin the two weeks of you being amicable.

Warnings: Bully!Mean!Satoru ofc, but hey he’s a pookie at heart & he’s contemplating whether to stop!! ✋ Reader-chan snapped in this chapter, soft Sugu<3

Comment down below if you want to be tagged ^^ New chapter comes out every week!

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Satoru feels upset and sick to his stomach, as someone who can be often used to people grovelling for him, being scared of him, and just respecting him as the honored one. You weren’t doing any of those and yet, you were suffering all the same. Any other girl would have chosen the easy way out, what does it need really? Apologize? Cry a little? Why aren’t you doing that?

All he could see was you going back home, the summer sun not being kind to you as you drag your feet back, after carrying his school bag for him. Suguru isn’t talking to him either. He simply said he doesn’t like to associate with feminine men who want to proclaim their ego more than their humanity. Boy that fucking stung & Satoru told Suguru to piss off before he’s beaten to a pulp. It’s not how Satoru was treating you which was a problem for him, he never hoped it would drag so much. All his blinding rage of the moment is fading off easy. He couldn’t drag this for a month for the life of him.

People love hanging out with Satoru also, despite whatever worshipping there is — he still has friends. This is surely one of the reasons they lurk around despite his intrinsic, domineering brattitude. He rolled his eyes upon realizing that he’s been standing there watching you walk away & scoffs, going inside.

Your shoulders hurt but you know his and your home is too far. You decide to use whatever pocket money you have to book a cab and leave home. Once you’ve reached, of course there are questions. Questions from your mum who’s calls you ignored. “Where were you? Why are you coming home from a fucking cab?” She snarled, raising a brow at your tired features. Your parents are normal, not too supportive not too toxic. However, normalcy when you’re imposed with external toxicity sounds toxic. Or maybe they just were… toxic. How would you decide either way? It’s not like you’ve taken trial periods of new parents to come to a decision.

“Sorry; head hurts. I’ll be in my room.” You dragged yourself across the expensive marble flooring of your home. You weren’t poor, per se… you just weren’t made privileged either.

Once you reached home, you sighed, back laid across the mattress and staring out into space. The sight of you drenched in cold water, the way your shoulders have red markings of the bag straps, all because you threw some gravy over the fucking bastard! You grit your teeth, jaw clenching. Fuck you hate him.

You hate that you’re crying again, tears and frustration bubbling in your eyes as you sniffled. Leaning your forehead against the mattress and curling up. You want to kick his ass so bad. If only this parental thing wasn’t involved…

The next day you’re not in school, your period had been unbearably shitty & so was your mental health along with migraines. The next day either, and not even the day after. Satoru is getting restless every day, walking to your class and seeing your seat vacant, walking away. Why the fuck does he not have your number? Why the fuck does it even matter… did he make you leave the school? Nah- why would you leave the school it wasn’t that bad right?

It was Friday again, four days of you not being here… you really thought maybe he would count this in the month? It’s almost two weeks over! Then again, Satoru Gojo would just push it for another four days of you serving him because you were absent. When you enter the school premises, you take a long breath, alright. No biggie, he’s just an annoying bully with Daddy’s money in his pockets.

The moment you enter, you find him lurching towards you, a beaming smile with black glasses. He looks so beautiful if he wasn’t so fucking shitty. You looked up at him and before he could say anything, “I was sick, even in companies and where you work, people are allowed to be sick. You can’t really extend the number of days because I was sick. That’s h-how it normally happens.” You mustered, defensive in your stance.

Oh… wow. He was just here to say hello, ask where you were and that if he had been too annoying that you decided not to come to school. Satoru was going to be nicer. Again, broken a little because you think so shitty of him. Not that he cares… he doesn’t… he— doesn’t…. Does he?

“Yeah, yeah I get you; damn do I scare you that much?” He chuckled, hands in his pockets. You knew you couldn’t say any of the twenty ass biting replies that you had logged at the back of your tongue. “Yeah, you’re my highschool nightmare, Gojo san.” You hummed, walking away.

He’s shamelessly following you, holding your wrist. “Didn’t say I was finished, did I?” His playfulness is gone, replaced by something carnal, icy again. You only manage to shake your head no. “Four days at home got you forgetting how to act right, hm?”

Satoru leaned down, making eye contact with you. You glanced at him back, pouting helplessly and shaking your head no. “Just- didn’t think you need me.”

He didn’t really plan on it, he just wanted to have a conversation! Why were you sick? His stomach was turning upside down at the thought of you handling Japan’s heat at 3 PM that Monday. He could’ve asked if you wanted some water… fuck this. He made this bet to make you suffer & you were suffering. What’s the problem really?

The problem was he wasn’t an asshole he pretended to be… and he didn’t think this would drag so long. Haven’t you seen other girls? They fawn over him endlessly, buzzing around him & always eager to have a speck of his attention. This is what makes him pissed off, again.

“You think a lot for someone who’s as dumb as you.” He chuckled, jabbing at your self respect once more like it’s free reign. “Sorry, tell me what is it you need from me?” You just ignore everything he says and focus on one goal. For this hellish month to end so you are free from Satoru Gojo’s clutches. Though with the way he talks to you, it does seem like you could handle your mother taunting you for months about how stupid you are after giving him the money. At least… she’s blood.

“Hey” the next voice that echoed was Suguru. He was the best friend who was around him of course. You remember his gaze, it wasn’t pity towards you when Satoru practically bore you naked in the cafeteria by spilling water over your white shirt. It was rage, subjected for Satoru & Satoru alone.

Satoru raised his brow, “Don’t interfere where you’re not needed, Suguru.” He snapped, while the latter only smiled in an annoyingly calm manner. “Wasn’t talking to you.” He simply answered your bully, looking at you. “Welcome back, I thought you had left the school.” He smiled, giving you the same popsickle that Satoru had you fetch.

You didn’t take it from him, why is he so hell bent on making things worse for you? Though his act of kindness doesn’t go unnoticed. It was like rain on lava. Bubbling emotions rushing down as you couldn’t help but blink furiously to evade the tears you find coming. “N- no, I’m uh… okay. I was just sick.” You managed, gnawing at your lip and wanting the world to swallow you whole. People on their way to classes were already seeing you between the two hot-shots of the school.

“So you can cry huh?” Satoru laughed, almost in disbelief. This is what he wanted didn’t he? Anything said by Suguru which made you emotional had you snap back instantly. “Do you need anything from me or can I go to class?” You say with such hatred it’s truly shocking.

“Yeah, write one thousand times that you will not leave my side until I’m not finished talking.” Satoru says simply, oh he’s pulling off Suguru’s rage on you now.

“You don’t have to do shit- it’s-” before Suguru could say anything else, you nodded. “Mkay. Can I go to class now?”

Satoru gnawed at his lip, he didn’t want today to be like this. He really thought he could make some progress. “Yeah, handwriting can’t be shitty or you rewrite.” He pushed your boundaries once more, hoping to earn a reaction out of you yet again.

“Understood.” You nodded, walking away. Just two more weeks… just, two more weeks.

During the lunch time, you go to him naturally. “Heh, shouldn’t she sit on the floor?” One of his classmates smirked when you walked to him. Oh?

“Shouldn’t you lay down on the floor?” You asked him, before launching a kick right at his face, knocking him unconscious as he dropped down. Wow… everyone was stunned, including Gojo Satoru. Another reminder that he only has you on a leash because he played dirty, another reminder that you are different.

He snickered, of course he wouldn’t chide you for kicking some random asshole’s ass? He would’ve done the same. How he treats you is his problem. Though, you’re pissed, “This is what I didn’t want.” You looked at him, gritting your teeth. “You treating me like shit gives other people the right to treat me like shit.”

You were… wrong. This wouldn’t end after a month? What were you even thinking? There would be other people who would rise up after him to bother you. “I’ll get you the fucking money to shove far up your pathetic ass.” Here you go, losing it again…

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Thirteen - The Funfair

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.8K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

"The fair," she said over the phone as she walked around the park with Milo. "We take the kids to the fair and we'll call it a second date."

Although she couldn't see it, Daniel smiled down the phone. He couldn't stop himself from grinning, even if his eyes were only half open. "Milo and I are walking past it now," he heard her say.

"How does it look, is it huge?" He asked as he laid back, his head against the headboard.

Suddenly Y/N wasn't speaking to him anymore. "Hi Mr Ricciardo!" Came Milo's excited voice. "The fair is massive! They've got lots and lots and lots of rides and mamma said they're setting up food trucks!" He said quickly, more evidence of his excitement.

But then Y/N was speaking again. "Sorry about that," she said. "But yeah, the fair looks great. They've got four rides, by the looks of things. Different booths and games and, like Milo said, food trucks."

"Olivia will love it," he said and yawned.

A yawn that Y/N apparently heard down the phone. "What's the time where you are?" She asked rather softly.

Daniel checked his watch. "Just gone midnight," he said. It was hard being half way across the world and trying to keep in contact with Y/N. She was asleep when he was awake, and she was awake when he was racing or asleep. Most of all, though? He missed Olivia. She was with her mother for the week and the updates he got were from Y/N.

"Good luck tomorrow," she said. "I'll be watching."

That brought a smile to his tired face. "I'll give you a wave," he said. Again, he yawned.

She was starting to feel guilty about it, about keeping Daniel awake when he needed his rest. "Uh, we've just gotten to the swings," she said. "Can I call you again after your race?"

"Sure," Daniel said quickly, his tiredness seemly disappearing. He didn't want her to go, and he didn't want to be the reason she did. "I'll see you when I'm home, okay?"

"Goodbye, Daniel," she said. As soon as he said his goodbyes in return, Y/N slipped her phone into her pocket and opened the gates to the playpark for Milo.

Immediately he ran over to the swings. "Mamma!" He called and she walked after him. "How about we get an ice cream after this?" She offered and Milo set out a cheer. She began pushing him on the swings.

As much as she could, Y/N tried to avoid Daniel's ex. But she was constantly looking out for Olivia, and that meant running into the woman.

Whether she'd seen them on the television, as much of the world had, it wasn't clear. But she hated Milo's momma, that was for sure. Their run ins were almost daily. Every day that Olivia was in daycare, she immediately ran to Y/N first. That meant that Y/N had to go over to Daniels ex, to hand Olivia off to her (even if it was somewhat painful).

On this day, though, Daniel was meant to return. "Miss L/N!" She called as she followed Milo.

"Hi Livvy," she called back as she took Milo's bag from him.

"My daddy comes home today," Olivia said, beaming with pride.

Just as she said she would, Y/N had watched the race the night before. Daniel had driven exceptionally well, finishing within the top ten and scoring points for his team. He was so fucking happy when he climbed out of the car and waved at the camera.

Y/N couldn't stop smiling at that. She knew just who that wave was for, and it made her so fucking happy. Not getting a full eight hours was worth it to watch Daniel drive. She taped it, ensuring that Milo could watch it the next day after daycare.

"I know, Livvy," Y/N said with a smile. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she didn't check it. "Is he picking you up, or are your grandparents here?"

Olivia shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know," she said and Y/N looked around for any sign of her family. Until one of them turned up, she and Milo were going to stay there with her.

The 2006 Toyota Hilux pulled up outside of the daycare gates. Before Y/N could get a better hold of her, Olivia went running towards the car. "Livvy!" Y/N shouted as she went to chase after her, with Milo following close behind.

But it wasn't a dangerous stranger that climbed out of the car. Mr Daniel Ricciardo, wearing shorts that showed off his thigh tattoo, stepped out of his car and scooped his daughter into his arms. For once he had no hat on his head, revealing his mess of curls.

"I missed you, Badger," he said, but nobody but Olivia could hear it. She squealed as her father picked her up and placed her on his hip.

He looked past Olivia, looked straight at Y/N. "Hi," she said as she walked towards him, holding out Olivia's bag for him to take.

"Hi," Daniel replied as he took the bag from her and swung it over his shoulder.

Was it too early to tell him that she missed him? Daniel wanted to say it too, but neither of them did. They held back, just smiling at each other, trying to work out what too say as the other parents filed out of the car park.

"It suits you," she said, nodding to the bag.

Daniel grinned as he turned it towards her, showing it off like a teenaged girl. "It's the latest fashion."

"Hi Mr Ricciardo!" Milo called as he waved at him.

"Hi Milo." Daniel waved back at him and turned his attention to Y/N. "If you're not doing anything this evening, do you wanna go to the fair?" He asked.

Y/N looked down at her clothes, at her work outfit. But then she looked at Milo, at the way he was using his eyes to beg her. "Sure," she said. "We'll follow you there."

As Daniel took Olivia to his car, Y/N took Milo back to her car. She strapped him in and climbed into the front. She pulled her car up behind Daniel and he started driving, the two of them heading towards the fair.

The funfair in the park was quiet on a Monday evening. There were a few school kids with their parents, and several high school kids running around. Y/N and Daniel walked side by side as the kids ran ahead in front of them. They never strayed too far, though, not unless they wanted to be called back by their parents.

"I watched your race," Y/N said as they walked around. "Very impressive driving, Mr Ricciardo."

"I got you something," he said suddenly and Y/N quickly turned her head towards him, eyes wide.

Daniel fished through the pockets of his shorts and pulled something out. Thank God they were walking side by side, or she wouldn't have been able to stop staring at his thigh tattoo. "Danny," she said as he held the brown package towards her. "You shouldn't have."

"Just open it."

She pulled the tiny brown package open. It was so small it easily fit in the palm of her hand. She opened the small piece of tape holding the brown paper bag closed and let the item fall into her hand.

It was a fridge magnet in the shape of a Formula One track. She wasn't yet familiar enough with Formula One to know which track it was, but Silverstone was printed across it. "From my race," Daniel said, shrugging like it was nothing.

But to Y/N it was everything.

"Thank you," she said and placed the magnet into her bag. "It means the world."

Daniel walked around, the widest grin on his face after that. And Y/N? Well she was holding his hand.

Milo and Olivia went running towards the spinning teacups. Daniel paid for the kids to ride the ride, the two of them squealing as the teacups spun.

They stood, leaning against each other as they watched their kids on the ride. "Does this count as our second date?" Asked Daniel as he stood with his arm around Y/N.

She touched over his 3 tattoo on his finger. "I think so," she said, as she watched the yellow teacup spin. "What're we gonna do for our third date?"

"I think I have an idea," he said as the ride came to a stop.

Milo and Olivia led the way around the funfair. Y/N bought them all greasy, unhealthy food from a food truck, but only because Daniel insisted on paying for all of the rides and games.

While Milo and Olivia were on one ride, Daniel disappeared, leaving Y/N to watch the kids. His muttered excuse fell on deaf ears as Y/N watched them.

By the time he returned the ride had ended and Milo, Olivia and Y/N were looking around for him. Y/N held both of the kids as they desperately searched for him.

When they saw Daniel, he was walking towards the three of them, grinning with his hands held behind his back. It was a sight he could get used to, walking towards Y/N as she held his daughter.

"Where did you go?" Y/N asked as she let Olivia run towards her father.

Daniel didn't take Olivia's hand as he held towards them. He kept them held behind his back. As soon as he and Olivia were once again with Y/N and Milo, he held out one hand towards Milo.

In that hand was a dinosaur teddy bear. Milo grabbed and held it tight. "Thank you, Mr Ricciardo!" He cried as he squeezed the teddy against his body.

Daniel reached behind himself and brought forward another teddy in his left hand. His right was still held behind his back. This time he pulled out a dog teddy and handed it to Olivia. "Thank you, daddy," Olivia said as she looked at her spotty dog teddy. She loved it.

He turned his attention to Y/N. She never expected that he'd have something for her, but he did. He brought forward a pink teddy bear that had a plush bouquet of roses stitched into the hand.

"Danny," Y/N said as she took the bear. "You really shouldn't have."

He just shrugged, his hands in his pockets.

Holding the bear by her side, Y/N stepped towards him and kissed his cheek. But that wasn't enough for her. "Fuck it," she whispered ever so quietly in his ear before she kissed him.

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[kadwrites]

surprise visit | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; someone pays you a surprise visit

warnings ; arranged marriage!trope, slow burn , fem!reader

a/n ; so i took a break! but im back with a new character that will piss all of you off <3

-

"i still can't believe she did that" you say with a frown , your hands scrubbing the dishes

you're in celest's house, with madeline and fiona. rose had caught a cold, and you thought she might need the help.

"listen.... i love your mother i do" fiona sighed , a towel in her hand as she dried the plate "but that was so....... "

"unnecessary" madeline added, her back pressed to the counter as she talked to the both of you

"more like insane" you corrected, grabbing another plate to clean "i mean why would she do that? couldn't she have just waited until the party was over?"

"you should see 'er face when she saw tommy." madeline snorts a laugh and fiona glared at her , putting a finger to her lips telling her to shut up

"tommy?" you repeat, you turn to madeline. "tommy spoke to 'er?"

"wouldn't say spoke more like...." madeline trails off

"he put the fear of god into 'er." fiona's resolve broke, this drama was too entertaining for her to not partake in

"what?" you can't help the laugh that escaped you, you dry your hand and turn to press your back against the kitchen sink "what did he say?"

"well.... i doubt they knew we were listening." madeline look at fiona

"they didn't but..." fiona puts down the plate and the towel, copying you and resting her back against the counter "he told 'er to apologize to ya, and said that he'd drag 'er out of the wedding if she thought of pulling something like that"

"i almost pissed myself and it wasn't even directed to me." madeline shudders

"oh yeah he sounded fucking scary, and very angry." fiona nodded

you just stare at the both of them with an amused smile.

"ya wanna know what else he said?" madeline wiggles her brows at you and you raise yours

"what?"

"your mum said that it's a family matter that he shouldn't middle in, and he said 'she's my family.'" she says the words in a rough voice, mimicking tommy

you hate this feeling, the feeling of a hundred butterflies in your stomach at the thought of him saying that.

you try to roll your eyes and act indifferent, but the smile says everything.

"right." you're tone is sarcastic

"i swear on my life!" madeline exclaimed

"he did say that, it's true" fiona points at madeline and nods

"well...." you try to hide the giddiness "he was pretty...... nice to me that night."

madeline and fiona look at each-other before pouncing on you

"oh my god!"

"what did he say?"

"what did he do?"

"oh my god did ya two kiss?" fiona gasps, putting a hand over her heart.

"no!" you hiss at her, waving a hand "and keep your voice down! celest and the children are asleep."

"ya got me all excited." madeline grumbles, crossing her arms

"all i said that he was being nice! ya two just love jumping to conclusions"

you tried to avoid your mother as much as you could, which was hard considering you live in the same house.

you sat in the living room, with renne. she was showing you all the baby clothes she had gotten

"look at the little pants" your voice is filled with excitement "i can't wait to meet the baby."

"believe me , i want it out of me as soon as possible" she mumbles, her hand on her belly. "i love the baby to bits, i do. but god does she like to kick my organs around."

"she?" you ask with a raised brow

"oh right" she waves a hand "your father said that he was it in a dream."

"he saw your baby?" you chuckle

your father was part gypsy, and he swore up and down that those visions were passed down to him, his dreams and intuitions.

"what else did he see?" you ask jokingly

"he saw ya." she nods

"me?" your brows furrow

"he didn't tell me what he saw, but he said ya were there" she sighed , folding the baby clothes

"why didn't he tell me?"

"no idea" she shrugged "didn't he dream that ya will get married ?"

"he did, but i think that was mostly wishful thinking" you snicker , helping her fold the soft pieces of clothing

"i do believe 'im , ya know." she looks at you

you smile at her "i do too, to a degree."

you both turn, as your mom walks in and calls your name

"someone is here for you." she looks you up and down

your brows pinch in confusion, why is she looking at me like that?

you look at renee before getting up and walking towards the door , and you see a face that made you want to vomit

"jeremy?" you almost look bewildered "what the fuck are ya doing here?"

-

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[peachesofteal]

oooh okay but what if the guys find Darling right before she’s about to give birth?? She took off after the confrontation and just never went back, and they gave her space hoping she’d come back. So then they were actively looking for her and finally found her? What’s one of the ways that could go down? Sorry I’m sure your ask box is absolutely full of asks about the baby trap au and other things but this idea struck me and I had to get it down 😩

👀 these little stories have completely consumed my brain.

🩵🩵🩵

18+ / baby trap AU / mature/dark themes

Deep breath.

Just breathe.

You can do this, you can do this. It happens all the time. You’re not the first person on earth to have a baby, for Christ’s sake.

Your feet step one in front of the other in a pattern down the hall, to the kitchen and then back to your bedroom, over and over while you try to stretch your back. It’s been almost forty minutes since your last contraction, and your muscles are sore, everything from your fingers to toes cramps.

It’s way too soon to go to the hospital.

But it’s not way too soon to be really uncomfortable, and nervous, and kind of freaking out, which you currently are.

You’re unprepared, even though you’re not sure there’s anything more you could do. You have the nursery set up, to the best of your ability. You even painted her room a soothing sage green color, and got all her clothes put away. You baby proofed everything. You have bottles, and formula, and nappies. Blankets and a boppy, even some pacifiers. On the outside, it looks like you and your little flat are totally ready.

But the reality, or at least how it feels, is the opposite. You don’t think you’re ready. You’re not even sure you can do this, if you’re being honest. You don’t know if you can be a mum, if you can take care of a baby, a defenseless little human who will need you for everything.

You struggled to take care of yourself half the time.

Your muscles tense, slow building pain splintering across your lower belly and you blink away some tears that threaten to form. It’s not just the pain… it’s everything.

You’re alone. You’re alone, after the two people you loved more than anything did the worst thing in the world to you. After they took your choice away. After they ruined everything, betrayed your trust, hurt you beyond repair.

Even worse was… you missed them. You hated them for it. Hated yourself for it. Everything felt so complicated, so fucked up. You were so angry, so heartbroken and still… couldn’t stop yourself from mourning their absence. Couldn’t stop from thinking about them at every doctor’s appt, every night when you closed your eyes to sleep.

You couldn’t even think about what was going to happen… after.

It was torture. It was hell.

It was affecting your health.

You had long been on restriction, light duty, almost mandated to bed rest. You had trouble eating, trouble sleeping, trouble with your blood sugar. It was exhausting.

Bee moves, not kicking but something else, a ripple pinging across your belly and you rub there soothingly.

“I know, I know.” You murmur, eyes wandering to your bed. Laying down sounds really good right now.

When you wake one hour later, it’s to pain. More intense, more sharp, lingering in the muscles of your back and thighs. It’s clearly a contraction, much more intense, and nausea rises in the back of your throat.

Fuck. That hurts.

You bite your tongue, heaving yourself out of bed as the pain fades, leaving you a little breathless while you waddle to the closet.

Maybe you could take a bath, or try to walk some more.

Just as you’re about to turn the tap on your tub, you hear a noise, a knocking on your door. That’s odd. You hadn’t ordered anything, food or packages. And you definitely weren’t expecting anyone either. Your stomach does a somersault, and you approach the door hesitantly, standing on the other side, staring at it blankly.

Without even checking the peep hole, you know who it is on the other side. You don’t need to look.

You always knew this would happen. You’d be lying to yourself if you said that sometimes, in the middle of the night, you didn’t dream about this. Even though it was wrong. Even if it meant you were weak. Stupid. Foolish.

You take a deep breath, and pull the handle.

Johnny’s holding his breath when the door creaks open. He doesn’t know what to expect, he just prays to nothing that it’s you on the other side. That after months of trying to track you down, they’ve finally got it right. He just hopes that you’ll give them a chance, that you’ll listen to them for even a second, so they can get down on their knees and tell you how sorry they are. So they can tell you they love you. So they can beg you to come home.

You peek around the door, just barely, enough for them to catch a good glimpse of your face.

He feels like he’s gotten the wind knocked out him. It’s been so long since they’ve seen you, too long, and you’re so pretty, so perfect he has to squeeze his hands into fists to try to calm his racing heart.

“Hi.” You keep the door more than half shut, and he swallows dry.

“Darling.”

“What’re you guys doing here.” You don’t phrase it as a question, and your voice is flat. Unenthused.

“We wanted to see you.” Simon starts. “We… wanted to check on you. See if you need anything. If you’re okay.” You give him a grim smile, and shake your head.

“Let’s not pretend.” You shoot back, and Johnny feels his heart wilt.

“We’re not pretending, love. We’ve been so worried. We’re so, so sorry. I cannae start to explain, how sorry we are. We did something awful. We-“

“I don’t want to hear it.” The door moves, just a little bit wider, and reveals more of your body, swollen belly, heavy on your frame. You look tired, like you haven’t been sleeping.

Johnny wants to break down. He wants to cry, if he’s being honest. He failed you. They failed you. They were supposed to love you, protect you, care for you. Instead… they allowed their twisted, selfish desires to influence their decisions.

He can’t imagine how this has been for you. Pregnancies were difficult for anyone as is, and you weren’t just anyone. You never have been.

“Can we come in?” Simon tries, voice soft. His eyes haven’t left your frame, taking in everything he’s seeing, Johnny’s sure. Coming to the same conclusion.

“No.” You bite out. “I don’t want you here.” He’s about to start begging, start pleading with you, but you make a face, brows pushing together, mouth screwing up like you’re in pain and his blood runs cold.

“Darling?”

“It’s nothing.” You breathe, but your hand cradles your belly, and your eyes are closed, face still screwed up in discomfort. “You should leave.” Not bloody likely.

“You’re in pain.” Simon summarizes the obvious, and you shake your head.

“I’m fine. I just uh- am having some cramps.” Cramps? He knows you’re pretty far along, by the math. Worry prickles along his spine.

“Cramps?” He takes half a step, not even. It’s enough to startle you, make you draw back, door jerking in your fist, closing it to only a crack, and he holds a hand out, cautiously. “Darling. Hey, it’s alright.”

“Go away.” You spit, but the words are choked out halfway, and they sound rough. Like you’re in pain. He tries to count, in his head. How far along you are, how close to a due date you might be.

“What’s going on?” Simon tries, and they can just barely see your palm press over your mouth. Johnny’s heart is galloping in his chest now, scared. Panicked. You’re in pain. You’re in real pain, and you won’t talk to them. Won’t let them in.

He’s about to ask you if it’s more than cramps, if you need help, or a doctor. But he doesn’t get the chance.

The door slams in their faces.

[lovelytsunoda]

does he take care of you? // george russell

does he take care of you? or could i easily fill his shoes, but you say 'no'. yeah you said 'no'... and i'm not trying to stop you love, if we're gonna do anything we might as well just fuck

summary: they had always been walking a fragile, tender line between friends and lovers. they were bound to cross it at some point.

pairing: george russell x bonnington!reader

warnings: an attempt is made at angst, people can't properly deal with their feelings. minor drug use, insinuations and non detailed sex (but bestie bonnington can’t deal with her feelings properly so she bails when things get serious-) one small little insinuation that someone might jump off a building. loosely inspired by the song 'sex' by the 1975

it was dark outside, nearing ten pm at the track when peter bonnington came to find george. george was in his drivers room, looking over printouts of race data, trying desperately to figure out where he could improve the following weekend.

“I hate to bother you, mate.” peter started, “do you have a moment?”

thankful for the reprieve from straight line speed and throttle graphs, george folded the printouts back into their legal folder and turned to look at the engineer. “what do you need?”

there were lines furrowed on bonnos brow. the man looked stressed, and george had a feeling that it wasn’t due to the cars subpar performance.

“I need you to talk to y/n. she hasn’t been doing well these past few months and I’m starting to get really worried. she won’t talk to me and she won’t talk to her mum. toto tried to ask her about it and she threw her drink in his face. something is wrong with my little girl and she’s shutting me out.”

george frowned (although he had to admit that the mental image of babe bonnington throwing the icy remainder of her pink starbucks refresher onto the great toto wolff made him laugh). “when did all this start?”

“when she came back from wales a few months ago, that big work trip. I think it has something to do with that wanker matthew she was dating, he hasn’t been around the house since before she left.”

“do you know where she is?”

“the roof, I think.”

at the look george gave him, bono sighed, shaking his head. “she’s not gonna jump. she just wants peace and quiet. I think the inside of her head is too loud. besides, the motor home isn’t high enough off the ground for anything serious to happen if she falls.”

“still, why would you let her be on her own right now?”

“she didn’t give me a choice.”

after a bit of floundering (and a trip back down the stairs after he realized he’d forgotten a coat), george found his way to the roof. from here, he couldn’t quite see the track, but he could see the lights and hear the sounds of the paddock, watching the last few stragglers exit their team homes and head for the front gates.

y/n sat at the edge, feet pulled up under her and a halo of smoke around her messy hair. her clothes were baggier than normal, darker than usual. when she turned to face him, the driver could see that her eyeliner was smudged, a single mascara tear running down her cheek. in her hand, she shakily clutched a lit joint, the embers at the end glowing orange in the night.

“I thought you quit that?” george asked, concern evident in his tone as he moved to sit next to her.

“fucking mattys fault.” she grumbled, taking a long drag of the fragrant plant. “he’s set my anxiety issues back about five years, figured it was time to go get my cbd prescription refilled.” she stopped, taking another drag before exhaling the smoke and offering it up to george. “it won’t get you high, but if we share it, it will make this look less sad.”

george frowned, taking the joint from her hand and taking a shaky drag, choking in the smoke as it filed his lungs. “what did he do? did he touch you?”

she laughed sadly, defeat in her eyes as she looked over the paddock. “nope. what he did hurt a whole lot more. when I got back from wales I went over to his apartment to surprise him, since my flight had gotten in a few hours early. he was in bed with another woman. and this wasn’t the first time, either. he’s been seeing her almost as long as he’s been seeing me. apparently she didn’t know I existed, and he was thinking about marrying her. I was fucking humiliated, george.”

“I’m so sorry.” he didn’t know what to say as he passed the joint back. she took a long drag, refusing to meet his eyes until he had reached over to shake her gently by the shoulder. “you did nothing wrong. you are pretty and funny and smart and most of all worthy of love. if matty couldn’t see that, then he didn’t deserve you in the first place, y/n.”

it happened so suddenly it almost knocked the driver on his backside. they were just talking, sitting comfortably in the marijuana smoke and then suddenly the engineers daughter is kissing him. soft, guava lips pressed to his, pillowy from all the tropical lip balms she can’t seem to put down. her hands are hungry, extinguishing the joint against the metal motor home roof before pawing at george’s broad frame.

they had been friends for years, yn considered him one of her closest. it must have been the part of her that needed reassurance that said ‘it’s okay, cross the line’ because soon enough, he was kissing her back, tongue exploring her mouth with reverence, hands gripping her waist through her mom jeans, then slipping into her back pockets to cop a feel.

“is there anyone left inside?” she panted, resting her forehead against george’s, hand splayed against his clothed chest.

the driver shook his head.

“good. I want you.”

and then they were in his drivers room, everything happening so fast that it felt like a fever dream. and then it happened, her jeans and panties on the floor, stripped down the lacy camisole she’d had on under her sweater, back on the massage table as she wrapped her bare legs around george’s hips, his hands gripping thighs hard enough to leave marks as he pounded into her, sweat dripping off the tips of his brown hair.

“god, fuck, george, please!” none of the words leaving her mouth were coherent. it didn’t matter. this was about avoidance, a mere distraction, if you will.

she needed to be fucked so hard she couldn’t think about all the bullshit matty was putting her through.

when all was said and done, her mind blissfully clear as she lay prone on the massage table, feeling the sweat dry on her flushed skin as she watched george tuck his cock back into his jeans, all she could find it in her to say was “god I needed that.”

and from there, it was all too easy to fall into a dangerous pattern that didn’t help anybody. one that tord a line so fragile it might as well have been made of salt, intended to keep the deeper feelings out.

the night in george’s drivers room turned into a quickie the next morning in the airport bathroom, bent over the vanity in front of a mirror, panties around her ankles and a massive hickey tucked into her turtleneck as they sat across from each other on the private jet, sharing a glance and smiling at the secret they shared,

eventuakly, back on home soil, the driver became her coping mechanism. when she wanted to go out but her friends were busy, george was the first person she called, pulling up to his house in her toyota corolla, synth-heavy music that was popular on tumblr in 2014 shaking the frame of the car. she turned it down as george opened the passenger door, giving her an odd look as the guitar solo played quieter in the background.

“how can you think when it’s that loud?”

“that’s the point. I can’t. it keeps the thoughts at bay.”

that night had ended in the back of an empty parking garage, movie theater popcorn and a takeout box left abandoned on the passenger seat, y/n on her knees with george’s rock hard length in her mouth. hearing him moan her name was its own kind of drug, and hearing him call her ‘good girl’ was enough to have her clenching around air.

or when george would come over, and they would make a new recipe together, criminal minds playing in the background. how many nights did the dinner end up burning while george had y/n's legs spread wide on the dining room table?

and while the act itself brought him nothing but pleasure, it was the aftermath that left him feeling like shit. he knew this was never going to go any further, that y/n was just looking for a rebound. something to take her mind off just how fucked her last relationship had been.

george would never be anything more than a friend, someone she could fuck when she needed it and be platonic with when she didn't.

she deserved better, someone who could take care of her in teh way that her heart ached for.

someone like george william russell, he thought.

but who was he to decide what was best for her? maybe he could show her, treat her right and change her mind somehow. but he wasn’t sure how to do it.

it was a night like any other, over a game of uno and a bottle of white wine, reruns of coronation street playing in the background, the smooth jazz of the intro and outro music only adding to the atmosphere.

and of course, as nights like these do, the cards ended up discarded on george’s living room floor, bodies mushed together in a heap in front of the soft blue glow of the tv. he picked her up bridal style, deftly lifting her weight as if she weighed nothing, carrying her to the master bedroom.

the bedroom. a place so intimate and so forbidden. their relationship had subsisted on having sex anywhere but a bed, for a bed would make it too real. there would be too many feelings involved.

and yet here he was, taking a massive leap into the unknown, uncharted waters as he laid her down against the linens, caging her body in with his as he kissed her.

a kiss so different from all the others that they shared, this one soft and tender. no teeth and no tongue, just the soft caress of a man’s chapped lips, done with reverence, as if her body was a treasure.

he trailed his soft, open mouthed kisses down her neck, no words exchanged between the two as his hands began to slide up her black t-shirt, over her belly-button piercing and then coming to rest over the padding of her bra as his lips traced her collarbone. he was in tune to her every movement, every whine and gasp.

he kissed down her stomach, feeling it rise and fall with her every breath. listening to the way that her breath caught as he popped open the button in her skinny jeans, dragging them down her legs and watching the goosebumps rise in their wake.

“george,” she hummed as he kissed and nibbled at her inner thigh, so close yet so far from what she needed.

“george!” it was a shout this time, paired with her small hands aggressively pushing him away. “I can’t do this. what are we doing here?”

“what?” george was wide eyed an confused “I’m treating you like a decent fucking boyfriend would! I like you yn, and you mean a lot to me. you deserve more than some cheap fuck in the backseat. you deserve to be treated like a treasure.”

she shook her head, standing up from the bed and pulling her jeans back on, refusing to meet georges eyes as she faced the firestorm of thoughts in her head, each one telling her that she had made a horrible mistake.

“we can’t. there was a line, and we crossed it.” her voice was shaky, bottom lip quivering. she was doing the right thing, or so she kept telling herself. putting that boundary back.

because they were friends. nothing more, nothing less.

george laughed. an awful, grating sound in this context. “you weren’t worried about crossing lines when you let me fuck you on my massage table. or when you had my cock down your throat.”

“please don’t take that tone with me!”

“I know matty hurt you. and I know you needed a rebound, but I want all of you, yn. I want your good days and your bad. I want to take care of you.” he was getting desperate. they both knew that there was no such thing as ‘just friends’ after this.

“I can’t be what you need, and I can take care of myself.” she tucked her hair behind her ear before storming last george and back into the living room.

george would always regret letting her leave. somehow, as he watched her grab her purse and her leather jacket and the keys to her fucking toyota, that this would be the last time he saw y/n bonnington.

and he was right.

he didn’t see her start to cry when she got into her car, driving to an empty space of road so she could pull over into the shoulder and let it all out, the radio tuned so loud that she swore it was shaking the frame of the car. and that’s when she decided it was time to reevaluate her life.

george didnt see her again for months. he heard from bonno that she quit her job, moved out to the coast. somewhere on the water. brighton or blackpool or bournemouth. a new group of friends, a new job, a fresh start.

she sold the toyota, bought herself a mini cooper countryman, a car she’d wanted since she was a little girl. she stopped wearing tight, dark clothes and starting seeking out florals, pastels even. flowier clothes that made her feel good.

and she was happy. from time to time, she still thought about that night at george’s. in a way, she was thankful. it had forced her to change, to become a better person. a healthier one. but she hated that she had hurt him. played with his feelings and then stomped on his heart. but deep down, she knew she had done the right thing. she could never have been the girlfriend that george needed. she was too broken.

george saw her again a year later, in the paddock at silverstone. he hardly recognized her: new hair, wide smile. mom jeans and a floral crop top that looked straight out of the seventies. she looked good. happy. healthy.

but there was something else he saw that hit him like a knife to the kidney.

it was the man on her arm. he was conventionally attractive, if you liked surfers. his dark hair flopped around his face the same way hugh grants did in ‘notting hill’ and his sunglasses were hooked into the collar of his striped resort shirt, left open for the top few buttons of course. she looked at him like he’d hung the moon, and he held her like she was the most important thing in his life, always having an arm around her shoulders, tucked into the back pocket of her jeans.

his name was colin. of course his name was fucking colin. like he was a character in fucking love actually, and not the man dating the woman george had so vulnerably bared his heart to.

he’d pulled out his phone, open to her number even though he’d sworn to himself that he’d delete it but he never did.

the text was right there in the message box, waiting to be sent.

does he take care of you?

but when he looked over at them again, his arms around her waist and his head on her shoulder as she was pointing out different things on her dad computer monitor, george knew the answer.

colin took incredible care of her, and he seemed to be exactly what she needed.

and how could george fault the other man for doing exactly what he would if y/n had been his?

he deleted the message without sending it, quietly slipping out of the garage, with the intention of working out until he couldn’t feel the pain any more.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @userlando @httpiastri @clemswrld @thatsdemko @diorleclerc @cartierre @lorarri @sidcrosbyspuck

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Are my parents and I the assholes for insinuating that my aunt and uncle's dog should be put down?

I (21F) hate one of my aunt and uncle's current dogs. They rescue old racing dogs and have done for like 15 years now. Their first two dogs I loved. First one was a bitch in both senses of the word, but she was funny and well behaved when it was important. Second one was a true gentle giant and a lovely boy. The second pair they've adopted though are a nightmare.

Alice, the current bitch they have, has suffered some form of trauma in her past. There are three years missing from her medical history and she's got some scars, so we'll never know exactly what happened but something did. She's a very nervous dog. She can be a sweetie, and they were making progress with her until they got the new one. Alice, however, does what more dominant dogs around her do, which has become a problem.

Enter Blue. Blue is genuinely dangerous. Blue snaps with no previous warning and tries to kill things. My family all know about dogs, this isn't us misreading his body language, he is giving no warning then going for the throat. He's taken a particular dislike to mum (who is usually a bit of a dog whisperer) and has got her in the hand a few times. Blue also tries to kill any dog who doesn't share his breed. We were in a restaurant, sitting outside, Blue saw a Beagle and before any of us could do anything he'd pulled my uncle backwards off of his chair and dragged him towards this poor dog. My uncle is a big man, 6" and not thin, so you can imagine the strength it took for Blue to drag him like a doll (the Beagle and owner got away DW).

I've disliked Blue for a while, but what made me actually hate him was that, when my aunt and uncle came to see us just after our own elderly dog had passed, Blue walked into our sitting room and pissed on the carpet. He's house trained and has never done this before. I think he was doing it territorially because he could smell that our dog was dead. I've never wanted to kick an animal before, but I did then and had to excuse myself before I caused a scene.

Cut to yesterday. We were in the pub having a family meal. Blue is muzzled now in public after the last restaurant incident. There was a family sitting across the room from us with a very little girl, 3 or 4 years old I'd say. She was looking at Alice and trying to get her attention from across the room. As her mum got up to take her to the toilet, the girl pointed at our table and asked to see the dogs. Her mum asked us if it was okay. My aunt agreed. The little girl came over. Alice immediately hid under the table.

My aunt was like "ooh sorry, she's shy, why don't you say hello to Blue".

Blues head pops up. The mum sees he's wearing a muzzle and tries to pull her daughter away from him but the kid was too quick and went to pat him on the head. He was super chill with it, pressed into her palm like he wanted harder pets, then with no warning growl, no tensed up body language, nothing, just lunges for the kid.

Obviously she's terrified. The mum is terrified and pulls her away. My uncle grabs hold of Blue's leash and my aunt is ineffectually going "oh no blue bad boy" over and over. My parents jumped up to help the mum and the little girl. I grabbed Alice so she couldn't start copying Blue. We all got kicked out of the pub.

We were standing on the street outside when my parents and I started laying into my aunt about how irresponsible that was. She is like "he'll never become accustomed to humans if he's locked away". Dad shouted that he doesn't get to maul someone to learn that lesson. She scoffed and said he had the muzzle. I said it takes one piece of brittle plastic before he gets put down. My aunt told us all to fuck off and stormed off in the opposite direction. My uncle took Alice from me and followed her.

My aunt made a passive aggressive series of Facebook posts about how all dogs deserve care, and how everyone lashes out when exposed to trauma, then blocked mum (only Facebook user in our house).

I don't think we're the assholes, but I know I'm very biased, because I genuinely hate that dog and would be quite happy to hear it had moved on, whether that be to a different home or the afterlife, I'm not picky.

So awta?

What are these acronyms?

[its-time-to-write]

Hiiii, I’d love to see Jamie and the reader having to randomly babysit Phoebe - happy for you to decide where the plot goes from there! ❤️

Here it is! A little bit of comedy, a little bit of angst. For reference, Molly is Roy’s sister. I read a fic once that called her that, and it’s been the name that’s stuck. Oh, and this references Phoebe’s dad and he’s a tool, so be aware of that. Thanks for requesting!

stick together like glitter

Jamie doesn’t have training because Roy has to watch Phoebe, and you don’t have work because of some random furlough day. This means it’s your first real break together in a very long time. All his extra training has meant that you two haven’t spent as much time together as either of you would like, but you two have plans today. 

You had spent the night at Jamie’s last night since he didn’t have to be up at 3, and so you could stay up late and sleep in. You’re both passed out, Jamie’s arm thrown around your waist, when there’s a knock at the door.

You and Jamie jolt up and he lets out a raspy, “What the hell?”

He rolls over to go answer the door.

“Pants!” you call before he reaches the top of the stairs. He backtracks and picks his plaid pajama bottoms off a chair. He thumps bleary-eyed down the stairs to see who’s there.

You hear muffled voices for a few minutes, then the door shuts and Jamie calls, “Babe! Can you come here a minute?”

You grab a pair of Jamie’s sweats out of a drawer and pad down the stairs, where you are met by Jamie and Phoebe of all people. 

“Hey Pheebs!” you say, surprise waking you up a little. “What’re you doing here?”

“Mum’s at work and Uncle Roy was supposed to watch me, but something came up so he brought me here. Jamie said it was ok if I spent the day with you.”

You smile at Phoebe and look up at Jamie. He shrugs sheepishly. “Can’t say no, could I? Look at her.”

He and Phoebe grin at you angelically.

You try to sigh, but it comes out sounding like a laugh. “Alright, come on. Have you had breakfast yet?”

Phoebe shakes her head. “Uncle Roy was just starting the toast when he got the phone call. I don’t mind though, because today does not feel like a toast kind of day.”

“I agree,” Jamie says to Phoebe, “today doesn’t feel like a toast kind of day. Lucky for you, I’ve been told my pancake recipe is better than-” he catches himself, “Well, they’re really fucking good. Won’t take long.”

He holds out his hand for Phoebe to take, and he leads her to the kitchen.

—

That’s how you ended up in Jamie’s kitchen, still in your pajamas, while Phoebe chatters on about the book Roy is reading her as Jamie flips pancakes and drops chocolate chips to make smiley faces.

It’s weirdly domestic in a way you two have never been before, and you’re not sure how you feel about it. You certainly don’t have negative feelings, that’s for sure.

“What do you want to do today, Phoebe?” you ask. 

She shrugs. “Uncle Roy was going to take me to the library and then to pick up flowers for Keeley, and then we were going to get ice cream. I wanted to play Princesses and Dragons, because I got new dragon claws. They’re in my backpack, want to see?”

“I do!” Jamie says.

You laugh. “I would love to! I think we can still do a lot of that today, ice cream included. None for Jamie though, he hates ice cream.” Phoebe gasps, and Jamie turns from the stove, offended. 

“Babe,” he says in a scandalized tone, “you’d lie to a child? I fucking love ice cream!”

You raise an eyebrow and deadpan, “You do not, you said you’d rather eat that disgusting pureed spinach.”

“Babe,” he replies, “I literally cannot believe you right now.” He turns to Phoebe. “Pheebs, you believe me, yeah? What kind of monster don’t like ice cream?”

Phoebe looks from you to Jamie. You’re doing your absolute best to maintain a straight face, and Jamie’s comedic beseeching look is not helping.

Phoebe squints at you in such a Roy-like manner that you break, dissolving into giggles. She joins in, and Jamie lets out a faux sigh of relief. Today’s going to be fun.

—

It’s late in the afternoon now, and you, Jamie, and Phoebe have been all over Richmond. Phoebe checked out three large books from the library while Jamie followed you to the murder mystery section. You whispered the plots to him until Phoebe tapped your elbow to let you know she was ready to go. 

You stopped at the flower shop, and Jamie bought one flower for you and one of Phoebe. She loved it, and twirled it as she walked. 

Your last stop was for ice cream, where she explained the pros and cons of each flavor, and why Uncle Roy believes any flavor other than cherry chip should be illegal. 

Now, you’re walking back to Jamie’s house, holding Phoebe’s hands in between you. Her flower is safely poking out of her backpack. 

“Jamie,” she says, “why does Uncle Roy think you’re a prick?”

Jamie chokes on air and you’re doubled over from laughter. That question came out of nowhere

“Well,” Jamie says, trying (and failing) to speak normally, “when I met your Uncle Roy, I was very young and very fit and much, much better than him at football. He didn’t like that so much, and I thought it was fuckin funny, so I just made fun of him for it. And me dad was kind of mean to me a lot, so I s’pose it was just easier to be a prick to everyone. Pretty sure he likes me know though.” Jamie pauses. “I’m less prickish now that this one came along.” He grins at you and winks, and you’re blushing like you’re a teenager. 

Phoebe is digesting all of this, and your footsteps slow as you approach Jamie’s doorstep. Finally she says, “If we play Princesses and Dragons, will you be the princess?”

“Only if I get a sparkly crown,” Jamie replies. 

Phoebe seems satisfied by this answer so she turns to you and asks if you want to be a dragon like her or a knight. 

“Knight,” you reply, no hesitation. 

“Aw, babe, you gonna rescue me?” Jamie asks, pushing open the door for you and Phoebe. 

You playfully pat his cheek as you walk by, not missing the way his eyes wander from yours to your lips. 

“Come on!” Phoebe shouts. She’s already at the door to the backyard. “We have to hurry before Uncle Roy gets back!”

—

It turns out that there is no need to hurry. Roy texted Jamie with a simple going to be longer than fucking expected, and a sorry to ruin your date night to you. 

Not a problem! you replied. Hope everything’s alright, and let Molly know that we can keep Phoebe overnight if she needs. 

Roy responds with a simple x, which is more than Jamie got, but he doesn’t care because Phoebe’s explaining to him the difference between a crocodile and an alligator in great detail over dinner.

You’re a little worried. Jamie is too, you can tell. His forehead gained a slight crease when he read Roy’s text. Neither Roy nor Phoebe have offered any explanation as to what had come up, and you just hope everything’s all right. You’re relatively certain it has to do with Keeley, especially because she hasn’t texted either of you all day. Phoebe is (you hope) oblivious, although she’s incredibly observant, so she’s probably already pieced together more than you and Jamie have.  

It’s a little past 8pm now, and Phoebe is beginning to yawn in your lap. Jamie’s sitting next to you on the couch, one arm around your shoulders as he hums along to Tangled. Phoebe’s wearing one of your t-shirts, and it’s long enough to be a dress on her. After an especially big yawn, you stand up and carry her to one of the guest rooms, a perk of Jamie’s fucking enormous house.

“Jaim and I will be in that door right over there,” you whisper. “The night light will stay on all night, and we’ll keep on the light in the hall. If you wake up and need anything, you can yell for us. We’ll be awake watching tv for a while, and I’m a light sleeper anyway, so don’t be afraid to shout if you need something.”

Phoebe nods sleepily, and you kiss her on the forehead. You pull the blanket up to her chin as Jamie says softly, “Goodnight, kid.”

“‘Night Jamie,” Phoebe whispers back.

You and Jamie get up and slip out the door, shutting it behind you softly. You pause in the hall, back to the door. Jamie’s close to you, and both of you have concern written on your faces.

You really had a wonderful time with Phoebe today, and you don’t mind the fact that she’s spending the night. Jamie has extra toothbrushes and Phoebe thinks it’s fun to wear your shirt to bed, but this is nowhere near how you thought the day was going to go. It’s just not like Roy or Molly not to call or to be out this late. 

Strike that; it’s not like Roy or Molly to be out this late for a reason that makes you feel especially joyous.

Your brows are knit together so tight that Jamie has to physically smooth them with his thumb.

“I’m worried too, love,” he says softly.

—

You’re both wide awake in bed, listening for Phoebe (she’s snoring) and checking your respective phones (still nothing). It’s not until 10:30pm that Jamie’s phone lights up with a call from Roy. He’s out of bed and down the stairs in an instant, just in case Phoebe can hear him.  

You’re still in bed picking at your nails, when your phone dings. It’s Molly.

She’s sent a long paragraph but the gist of it is what you’re sure Roy is telling Jamie on the phone:

I had an extra long shift today, which is why Roy was supposed to watch Phoebe. When he showed up to the house, Phoebe’s dad was outside, lurking in his car. I didn’t like it and neither did Roy, so he dropped her off with you to find out why he was coming ‘round. 

You shiver. You haven’t heard a lot about Phoebe’s dad, but you know that she and Jamie have shitty fathers in common. They had been talking about it earlier that afternoon, her expressing frustration and him gently explaining that none of it was her fault.

You go back to Molly’s text.

Turns out the bastard was here to take Phoebe. He got high and decided to just grab her, I guess. He and Roy got into it, so then Keeley had to bail Roy out of jail for assault and it became this whole thing because Roy wanted to make sure that prick was never allowed to be near Phoebe. He’s been pulling strings all day, filling out restraining orders and shit. Phoebe doesn’t know any of this, and I don’t want her to, but it sounds like her dad’s going away for a long time. Roy and Keeley have been at it all day. They know a lot of the right people, between the two of them.

Three bubbles appear, then disappear. You type, You’re more than welcome to come over and spend the night, Molls.

She replies, Only if I can borrow your toothbrush. 

Despite yourself, you smile. You and Molly grew up together and got even closer after Roy was recruited for football, so you both understand that when the other offers something, they mean it. 

She says, Be over in fifteen. Love you, so you send her a heart. You hear footsteps and look up to see Jamie in the doorway. “That was Roy,” he says, face somber.

You lift your phone slightly. “Heard from Molly,” you reply. “She’ll be here in fifteen minutes. She’s spending the night.”

Jamie nods and settles heavily into bed next to you. 

He blows out a breath. “Fuckin hell.”

“Yeah,” you agree.

“Poor Pheebs,” he continues. “I know how she’s gonna feel when she finds out.”

You rest your head on his shoulder. “Do you think that Molly and Roy should handle it differently?”

“Fuck no,” Jamie responds, “wish my mum had a brother like Roy to lock up my piece-of-shit dad. Still, he’s her dad, isn’t he? Doesn’t matter how much of a prick he is, she’s still gonna fucking love him.”

You’re silent for a moment. “Jamie,” you say finally, “d’you think she’ll be alright?”

Jamie turns his head to you. “‘Course she’ll be alright,” he says. “It ain’t easy, but she’s got an amazing mum, plus Roy and Keeley. I fucking made it, and I only had me mum.”

He can tell you’re still not satisfied. “Look, babe- as shitty as Phoebe’s dad is, she’ll be alright. It won’t happen overnight, but she’s a tough kid. She’s got people who fuckin love her and who want to protect her. She’ll make it through.”

You nod. You two sit in silence until there’s a light knock on the door. It’s Molly.

You wrap her in a tight hug, a million unspoken words lingering between you two. You take her to Phoebe’s room and hand her an extra pair of your clean pajamas.

Phoebe says a sleepy, “Mum?” so you sneak out the door and shut it silently.

You head back to Jamie, and now it’s your turn to flop onto the bed. It’s been a long day, and you have a feeling tomorrow is going to be even longer. Jamie pulls you onto his chest in a tight hug, and you finally fall asleep to the steady beat of his heart.

[rewritingcanon]

What would you say are your more controversial opinions about the hp characters?

ohhhh okayyy. i feel like my opinions on a lot of the characters aren’t controversial because i dont feel super strongly towards anyone in any negative light but here are some i could think of at the top of my head:

i’m glad the malfoys faced more extreme backlash after the second wizarding war. a lot of people in the fandom seem to be very sympathetic towards draco and scorpius for getting dogpiled with the brunt of it (which yeah, it sucks, especially for scorpius) but the prejudice makes complete make sense to me. if i was someone who didn’t know scorpius’ character, and had someone from my family get killed in the second war due to death eaters or something— seeing the malfoys still be wealthy and walk around freely without any jailtime, i would be bitter too. they’re hated on but they’re still one of the richest families ever, so they’ll live LOL

another anon has asked about this and i haven’t responded to them yet but when i do i will link it here for my reasons. basically: the best character in the cursed child is harry potter. i think the way they wrote his character and ptsd carried the play. it was def his story, not albus’.

i do think dumbledore has some aspects of him that may be considered morally gray, but mostly i dont think he is. he does everything for the good of the world, and his complete selflessness leads him to sacrifice anything for it— even himself and the people he loves, when necessary. i completely understand why people wouldn’t agree with his methods though.

james potter isn’t a sunshine character he’s a dickhead. fans of him made him a golden retriever character to be more palatable for modern times. i like him the way he is: an asshole and then less of an asshole 👍 this is what true stanning looks like

pansy parkinson is racist and out of all the female side characters, developing HER is so questionable from fandom

harry had questionable descriptions about a lot of male characters to make people think he could be a little 🏳️‍🌈 there was bill, there was sirius, there was cedric. but draco is not a part of that list. harry was not feeling draco whatsoever throughout the series but drarry shippers cling to that one ‘obsessed’ line

furthermore, harry rejecting draco’s offer of friendship wasn’t a sad or a ‘what if’ scene. draco was being a classist piece of shit and harry didnt want to fuck with that, there isnt any way in any timeline he wouldve accepted draco’s friendship.

slytherin sucks just generally lol. people want so bad to pluck anti-heroes out of a series that was written specifically with the mind to make all the characters suck.

hermione and ron’s drama isn’t as toxic as people make it out to be. yes, this includes the time hermione sent birds after him. people act like its the end of the world but she was tackling puberty and the end of society soooo i give her a pass to tweak out.

mostly every harry potter character has horrific names. like literally mostly everyone. even the name harry potter 🙁

movie romione wasn’t that bad LOL

severus snape’s ‘redemption’ or whatever was so ass. he bullies kids for five years and then everything is chill because… true love? on harry’s mum? are you kidding me 💀

weasley family angst goes hard but people (especially percy stans and some ron&ginny stans) acting like they’re the most toxic family to walk the earth make me want to rip my hair out and eat it. molly loves her kids guys shes not evil. jesus.

genuinely trying to think of more but i can’t right now…. maybe i will reblog and add to it. i feel like most of my opinions aren’t that controversial though 😭

[f10werfae]

My wife is fine, thanks

pairing: Husband!Henry x Wife!Reader

summary: I LOVE YOUR HENRY CAVILL POSTS!So can I request an Instagram blurb for wife!reader (obv for Henry Cavill), where fans react to wife!reader and henry having an age gap (10+). (requested by @chaotictwig)

requests are open/likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Full M.List, Henry M.List, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

@/hellostarsky: Can everyone stop hating on Henry, so what if he’s 39 and she’s 28?? They���re both legal consenting adults, he did not groom her and treats her with the utmost respect. She does not need the stress of you guys while she’s pregnant with their baby.

@/caviilll: I don’t care what anyone says, Y/n and Henry are so mf cute. The way he spoils the hell out of her and just always holds her close♥️♥️ If only

-

@/relatimefr: Ok but their age gap is so weird, she was being born when he was like 11 wtf

>> @/Prettyprincess: They lit started dating at 24 and 35, you can calm yourself honey, they did nothing but fall in love☠️

-

@/Henry Cavill: Happy 29th birthday to my lovely beautiful wife, the future mother to our baby(ies) and my best friend in life. Glad to be doing life with you and no one else, can’t wait to see you when I get home tonight, both you and baby Cavill ♥️

-

@/Holymacsncheese: But their age gap suits them sm, Y/n makes sure Henry keeps up to date with all the new things today, and he grounds her to a sense of comfort and love. They compliment each other so much, match made in heaven I say

-

@/Polypockets: yall acting as if he groomed her straight out of highschool, they literally met on set where she had to play his wife, yall just jealous cause it ain’t you 💋

-

@/Y/nCavill: 35 Weeks today! Baby Cavill is now officially nearly here, unfortunately i’ll be taking a break from future projects for some time, I want to finally settle down and accept my new role. The role of motherhood. Hope you all understand, Y/n xx

>> @/HenryCavill: I’d like to follow this by saying that, after this new movie I will also be taking a break for the next year or so, who knows. Just would like you all to know that I appreciate those who support us wholeheartedly, and I can’t wait to start this new journey!

-

@/User19204726: That picture of Henry showing Y/n new dresses in the maternity shop while she’s sitting watching him, is the cutest thing. She was too tired to walk about the shop, so he literally went around and got everything to have a mini fashion show for her

-

@/pumpituplease: God bless Y/n for posting pictures of Henry painting the nursery, that man is giving real dilf material now, and we can’t forget about the milf Y/n. Sexiest Power couple for realsies

-

@/geraltlovers: Omg I thought we were over the whole age gap thing?! Why the hell are papers still calling him all these names and calling Y/n naïve?? They lit have a child together, get a grip

>> @/petalsforpeps: omg ikr, like get over yourselves because they don’t care about what you have to say

-

@/Y/nCavill: Henry and I would like to welcome baby Penelope into the world, she arrived on September 25th and is currently rocking it! No pictures will be shared, hope you all understand that ♥️

-

@/cpatainsy: HENRY IS A DAD GUYS OMG, HIM AND Y/N’S BABY IS GONNA ACTUALLY SLAY THE REAL WORLD. WE BETTER PREPARE OURSELVES!!

-

@/rainbowsncakes: Omg that photo Y/n posted with Henry’s back to the camera, you can just see the tiniest bit of baby Penelope’s hair out of the corner of his arm, AND ITS DARK HAIR, SHE GOT HIS CURLY HAIR I BET

>> @/lotsoocks: YOO ACCORDING TO HENRY’S MUM’S POST, BABY PENELOPE CAME OUT ROUGHLY THE SAME SIZE HENRY WAS WHEN HE WAS BORN. POOR Y/N

>>> @Y/nCavill: NO BECAUSE THIS IS TRUE, 38 HOURS OF PURE HARD LABOUR. Thankful for all the nurses, doctors, midwives and especially my bear of a husband who didn’t leave me alone once♥️

-

@/user823783: Fuck this family bullshit, when is Henry gonna back to our screens?!

>> @/HenryCavill: i’m sorry but I don’t tolerate anyone speaking about my family like that, a fan of mine wouldn’t speak of people I love like that. We want to live a peaceful life full of love, if you can’t respect that then i’m glad i’m not back to work yet. Family comes first.

-

@/HenryCavill: I love my wife @Y/nCavill and my gorgeous daughter Penelope, the exact double of me I must say (sorry babe) I also love the people who support me, and it hurts me to say that it’s a minority of you that seem to keep harassing my family. Please respect our lives, not only has our relationship been through enough, but our privacy has been violated more than enough times. Enough is enough.

>> @/jellyjumpbean: What sorta losers are still hating on them?! Can we please grow up and stop being delusional, the man is happy with his own family now. None of then deserve this abuse and especially not little Penelope who hasn’t even been here 5 minutes

-

@/Dcornarvel: Y/n is absolutely growing post pregnancy, you would never guess that she’s edging 30, Henry is one lucky man for real

>> @/HenryCavill: That I am. Thank you very much my friend ♥️

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @fdl305 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @aerangi @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @sparklemarysunshine @oliviah-25 @mischiefhasbeenmanaged @nikkitc0703 @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mansaaay @princess-paramour @stormcloudss @uwiuwi @marvelgurl @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @kebabgirl67 @athena-roy @tinyelfperson @madebylilly @dumb-fawkin-bitch @vrittivsanghavi @beck07990 @kimhtoo17 @thereisa8ella @pandaxnienke @marvelstarker-mha98

[newtonsheffield]

Awww I love author Anthony! When does Kate find out he carries that photo around? Can we get a snippet of that night it was taken?

Let’s see Kate’s point of view

She’s not even really sure how she ended up here. They’d been in the pub, surrounded by their friends with empty glasses strewn on the table around them and Anthony had scoffed.

“Oh, of course you think Frankenstein is trash. Of course you do!”

Kate raised her eyebrows while the rest of the table groaned.

“No! No, we’re having a nice night! Please don’t start arguing.”

Kate smiled and leaned across the table at Anthony, his stupid handsome face making something flutter in her chest. “Convince me, Bridgerton. Convince me that Victor Frankenstein isn’t a complete dickhead who got in over his head.”

“If you don’t understand the metaphor for the fact that we are eventually all brought down by our own hubris, then I can’t explain it to you, Sharma. You’re hopeless.”

“Sounds like you’re scared to convince me. Almost like you… know you can’t.”

His laughter was so beautiful. She hated how nice that sound was. Warm and happy. He ran his hair through his already messy hair. “Katie Kat I could convince you to do so many things.”

God, she wanted him to. She’d thought they’d never be friends the first time they met, and she definitely didn’t think she’d be where she is now, with her heart fluttering in her chest every time she saw him. And she didn’t think when he looked at her through his lashes, a lit cigarette in his hand, the smoke curling between him that she’d say yes so easily.

“I thought you were giving up smoking.”

Anthony sighed, looking wistfully at it, “I know, I know. You hate smokers. I just miss the smell when I’m a few pints deep. Makes me feel like a tortured artist.” He stamped it out on the side of the bin, tossing the cigarette in the ashtray unsmoked. “Are you heading somewhere?”

Kate raised her eyebrows, “Just… back to my dorm.”

Anthony nodded, stepping closer and putting his hands in his pockets, the scarf his mum had made him for Christmas wrapped around his neck. “Are you actually up for a friendly literary debate back at mine?”

“Yes. Obviously.”

Their breath had frosting in the air between them as they made their way back to his flat, laughing and giggling about one thing or another. And here they were now.

Kate had pulled off her boots and their coats were abandoned on the floor by the kitchen, empty bottles between them as they sat on the rug in front of the fire, the only light in the room. Anthony’s wire rimmed glasses slid down his nose as he shook his head.

“You are ridiculous!”

“I’m not ridiculous! Angus, Thongs, and full frontal Snogging is a fucking great book for its demographic! I still love that book!”

“I am… obsessed with this confidence.” Anthony grinned, “I’m obsessed with you.”

He doesn’t mean it like that. Kate sighed to herself, taking another long drag from her drink. He would make a move if he wanted to. He’s slept with a quarter of the girls on our course.

“Oh and what were you reading at 12? Were you composing a modern version of Beowulf?”

Anthony flushed, “There was some epic poetry involved, yes.”

Kate laughed, ruffling his hair, “You’re so stupid.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing!”

“If you’re so obsessed with me,” She snatched his brother’s Polaroid camera off the coffee table, “Take a picture so it’ll last longer.”

Anthony rolled his eyes at the challenge, “Well strike a pose for me then. Something worth capturing, please madam.”

She waited for the flash and the square of film to shoot out the bottom of the camera and their body’s swayed closer as she peered down at it. “Fuck, you better put that in your wallet, Bridgerton. A memento of this glorious night when we got along. When I looked pretty as hell”

Anthony rolled his eyes, “Come on, you’re always fucking beautiful. You know that.”

She could sense the shift in the air. She felt her breath caught in her chest and she was suddenly too aware of how close her body was to his and the heat of the fire radiating between them. She was too aware of how easy it would be for him to close the distance between them, tilt her chin up and claim her lips for himself.

“Do I know that?”

“You should.” His eyes flicked down to her lips and his teeth bit his own, seconds slipping by. “I’m… having a nice time with you.”

“Yeah me too.”

Anthony took a shuddering breath and leaned backwards, slapping his hands against his thighs before he stood, his feet slipping on the floor in his socks. “Another drink while you prepare you Wuthering heights is the worst arguments?”

“Yeah.” Kate cleared her throat, hoping the firelight would distract from her own embarrassment as she pushed it down, “And I know you hate it too so don’t pretend!”

“Maybe I just want to hear your arguments!”

“You’re such a glutton for punishment.”

“Remind me to never bloody let you read my manuscript.”

“No promises there.”

[theonotti]

Theodore Nott | Headcanons | After Hogwarts Edition

in my head, Theo didn’t fight for the death eaters in the war and CC does not exist thanks

The first thing Theo does when he gets his own place is get a cat.

The oldest cat the shelter has.

The cat would have a really stupid name like Fork and that’s 99% of the reason that he picked her.

“She’s a bloody fucking bitch. I love her dearly.”

Lowkey depressed

He lives in a one bedroom flat with a balcony so he can smoke and star gaze.

Keeps a tidy living space.

He tries to be a plant person but they always die

And i mean they ALWAYS die.

He has multiple bookcases lining his walls that are FILLED with books.

His occupation after the war is as an Unspeakable.

Only speaks to you about it

Hosts his friends often.

Movie nights. Dinners. Holidays. Regular hangouts. Despite having the smallest living quarters, he’s still the most likely to have them over.

Never the first to send a text

(Well almost never.)

Lives near a lake that he can walk along, similarly to how he’d walk along the Black Lake at Hogwarts.

Out of all of his friends, he sees Mattheo Riddle and Draco Malfoy the most, but he still sees Enzo, Blaise and Pansy often.

Somehow got even less talkative after the war because family trauma.

Only really talkative with his friends and you.

Becomes obsessed with muggle music now that he’s not worried about his parents finding out.

He’d listen to a little bit of everything.

Slow dancing across his kitchen floor.

Cannot go to sleep until he’s checked on Fork and given her at least 3 kisses on the top of her head.

Still the funniest person in any room.

He loves thunderstorms and will open the balcony door to listen to them.

You know he’s had a nightmare when he texts you really late at night (which happens more often than either of you would like).

He learned how to cook from his mum, so every time he cooks, he feels close to her.

Which means he cooks almost every night.

Feeding his friends and you is his love language.

Doesn’t use any magic when he cooks, just like she taught him.

He’s outgrown a lot of his anger that would cause him to get into fights as a student, still has a temper though.

He’s also cut down the amount of cigarettes he smokes a day to under ten, but he isn’t quite ready to quit yet.

He tries to go to the local library every couple of weeks.

fighting for your life as every day is a battle of the wits with him.

you: if i say i love you, you gotta say it back

theo: ok

you: i love you

theo: it back

theo: jk i love you

He keeps journals and saves every one.

Has only two pictures hanging up in his flat: one of his mum (the only one he has of her), and one of himself and you.

Basically walks everywhere.

Absolutely refuses to drive.

He’s gentle with everything.

His belongings.

His cat.

But most of all, you.

Favorite social media is snapchat and he sends you lil pictures throughout his day (when he’s not working obvi).

It’s his only social media actually, he hates the others.

Has a key made for you for his flat so you can come over whenever you please.

“babe” and “my love” are his favorite pet names.

He travels a lot for work and he always tries to see something cool when he’s there to show you.

With his dad in Azkaban, mum gone and no siblings, Theo thought adult life would be a lonely one.

But with his little found family from school, as well as you by his side

He couldn’t explain what loneliness feels like if he tried.

[fan-goddess]

Chapter Four: A new kind of promise

Catch up on the fic here!

Authors Note: After weeks of heavy research into Romani weddings traditions, I decided to use a mix of traditional events and my own versions. The questions I’ve been trying to find answers for have come up with little to nothing, so I’m mixing it all up into my own thing. I am sorry if that’s offended people, but I genuinely can’t do much about it. I have tried asking for help, but nothing came through. I’ve used mainly Christian traditions, but am making it my own with as much limited information that I found online weaved in.

Chapter Summary: The wedding day is coming up quickly, and your little conversation with your hopefully soon to be husband has made you think of things more clearly than you before

Taglist: @valeskafics, @omgbrcat @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity @anjelicawrites @lexwolfhale @helaenaluvr @scarletbedlam @tssf-imagines @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @arcielee @targaryenbarbie @ilikechocolatemilkh @tumblin-theworldaway

Warnings: Talks of arranged marriage, literal marriage, most likely incorrect portrayal of a Romani wedding, she/her pronouns mentioned, (if I miss any let me know!)

The wedding is in two days, and the memory of Abrahams body against yours is still unrelenting and clear in your mind as ever. Sticking with you with the same ferocity as a stick of Ivy that’s grown on the side of a house.

Though it were his words that clung to you most adamantly. ‘Because while she may not even be here yet, I already somehow finding myself caring for her. Just as much as I find myself already loving you.’

“What’s got you in such a state my darling?” Your mother says, making you suddenly jump in pure fright as in your thoughts you’d forgotten she was even there in the first place.

You sigh. “Nothing mum. I was just… just thinking of the wedding.”

You’d hate to say anything to inflate her ego, but your mum has been nothing short of a saint, even with her small snide comments every so often. As while you’ve been so caught up on Abraham, she’s been caught up in the making of your wedding. Making sure everything is being set up rightly for the day, and making sure your dress will be made in good time. It seems her bossiness and her attitude is good for something other than nagging you.

She scoffs in disbelief at your answer, but to your relief she seems to let the comment slide. Focusing on making herself a cup of tea, reminding you of your own that whilst you were caught up in your thoughts, turned cold in your hands. Still, you sip at it diligently anyway. Attempting to use it as a very useless distraction that of course does little to help.

The stables are now a place you can’t go to anymore. Too fearful to be put face to face with your soon-to-be husband to go anywhere near that now haunted place. From what you’ve heard from the recent girl talk you’ve been listening too with pricked up ears whenever Abrahams been mentioned, he hasn’t been going there too much recently anyway. Choosing to go either there or mainly out in the woods. He still drops off the wood and the animal carcasses, only with the recent development of the two of yours’ relationship, he only places them at the step of the door, before knocking and leaving soon as he comes. As if he was never there in the first place.

You don’t blame him for acting like this. Especially with how you acted to him after he practically told you he loved you.

You hate yourself for it. As when he uttered those words, you froze. You mumbled incoherent words even to yourself, and ran away like an absolute fucking coward. You left him standing there in that stable, leaning against the wall after he said those personal things to you, and you feel absolutely awful for it.

Your parents had asked what had you in such a rush when you all but sprinted through the door, but you couldn’t dare tell them the reason. Instead, you yelled you needed the loo, and hid in the toilets for a few minutes and cried into your hands like an idiot.

The days that went by after that had all been eerily and dreadfully similar. His words had revealed something within you that made you so fearful of it all that you now cannot do anything but hate yourself, and pray to whatever man or thing that was in the sky that Abraham would still love you, even after what you had done.

To your surprise though, praying to whoever you could seemingly worked, as each night that passed resulted in another day until your wedding. When you’d become his wife and he’d become your husband. It would have been so exhilarating if the days before hadn’t been so awful and hateful.

The anxiety has been killing you, but putting that aside, the dress itself was absolutely beautiful.

It was white, a colour insisted by your mother even though there was a very high chance it’d be dyed a mixture of green and brown by the end of night, and reached around your mid calf. There was even delicate lace hand sewn by your mother. An act you could not dare to deny brought small tears to your eyes that were quickly dried away claiming hay fever, in fear it would somehow spoil the minimal makeup that had been insisted by the other ladies who’d helped you get ready.

Yet as you found yourself walking down the laid out path towards where your fiancé stands, you cannot deny that for once, you felt truly beautiful. That it felt thrilling almost to feel actually wanted and desired by a man who you would soon share your bed with.

Abraham doesn’t turn to look at you until you’re a few steps away. Yet when he does, your heart does somersaults as you see his mouth open slightly, and his eyes quickly move to look over you fully. His eyes widening slightly as he takes you all in, though you feel the need to almost snicker when you see they linger at times specially around your cleavage. An act he stops doing so quickly you could easily blink and miss it.

His reaction calms you though. As it shows he still cares for you in his own way. It shows that he still wants to be wish you. In his own way…

When you get to him, he nods his head in his own way of a greeting, and you nervously nod your own. Your lips already sore and swollen from how much you’ve been biting them in your anxiety the last couple days. Yet when Abrahams eyes trail to look at your lips, a whole new type of ache travels through you.

“May all who are here today sit now!” Pal shouts, his voice loud and asserting as everyone quickly moves to follow his orders. You and Abraham as well moving to face him as he looks at the both of you with a kind smile you cannot help but reciprocate.

“Abraham Lee, is here today to marry this fine woman from our own clan. Her parents are here today to witness the change of her transitioning from their daughter, to Abrahams wife. I understand that Abraham, instead of using typical money, has gifted one of his prized horse to the brides parents as payment. Does the brides parents feel this is a good payment for their daughter?”

You can’t turn back at the moment to look, but you can hear your father’s grunt as he lifts himself onto his feet, and how your mother fusses at him for him to be careful.

“Yes, me and my wife believe the horse that Abraham has provided our family with was a sufficient price to pay for our daughter. We are grateful to welcome him into our home, and are grateful he has taken such a shine to our only child.” Your father chokes, almost sounding on the verge of tears at the end of his words, before another round of grunts begins, signifying he’s finished and has sat back down on his chair again with a sigh.

Pal nods his head in a silent thanks to your parents, and turns to your right to look at Abraham eye to eye.

“Okay then. Now, Abraham Lee. Do you promise to take this romni under your protection? Do you vow to look after her, and be a good husband for her? To allow herself to be shielded by you forever, until the day you die?”

He doesn’t answer straight away, you yourself only hearing him let out a single deep breath, and you quite honestly feel yourself almost die on the spot fearing the worst has happened. That he has realised his mistake and that he’d put the wedding off there and then, shaming you for your actions.

Only whilst you’re worrying, he grunts and begins speaking, and you have to slowly let out the breath you were holding previously in thanks. “Yes, I vow to do all that and more for her.”

Then Pal turns to you, and suddenly you find yourself unable to breath once more. Who knew the whole ordeal would be so friggin stressful?

“Do you, a daughter of this clan and of the Roma, take Abraham Lee as your husband? Do you understand you will be under his protection, living in his home with him and being with him until his or your last breath? Do you vow to be a good wife to him, looking after him and caring for him back to full health whenever needed? Do you vow to guide him, when it is needed too? Do you vow to do all that and more for him, in exchange for his protection?”

Your breath is shaky as you hold it, and whilst it would be improper to do so, you want so badly to hold Abrahams hand firmly in your own and use his strength for some stability. Still, it is improper, and Abraham still has every right to shove you to the dirt and shame you.

“Yes, clan leader, I vow to do all that and more for him, as he is my husband now and forever more.” The extra words aren’t necessary, but it feels nice to do and makes you feel sort of giddy to see the small smile on Abrahams face in the corner of your eye. His body shifting from side to side as the next part of the ceremony begins.

“May the husband and wife hold each others hands.”

The two of you turn to each other, and you’re pleasantly surprised to see Abraham’s cheeks are an unfamiliar shade of pink. He almost appears bashful, but that would no doubt be an unfamiliar feeling of his.

Still, his hands move to clasp your own, and your thumb begins to rub small shapes on the back of his veiny hand. His own hands though clench slightly round yours, possibly as a warning. It probably wouldn’t be a good look for him or you if he was to begin glaring at you already, not even ten minutes into the ceremony.

“Do the two do you vow to look after each other, stay true to each other, and be good to each other for the rest of yours and theirs’ lives?”

This time, there is no real hesitation from either of you, as both you and Abraham almost manage to say ‘I will’, at the same time as each other.

Though after that, Pal smiles at the two of you, and motions for the bread to be brought out. Which when it gets handed to the two of them, it’s odd, as it’s almost like the both of you don’t want to release each others hands just yet, content in providing the other with a comforting warmth. Still, the both of you split hands anyways, and move to hold your own hands and kneel before Pal who continues to stand, to allow the rest of the ceremony to continue to take place.

“I bless the both of you with this bread, in the hopes it will symbolise the fruitful future the two of you will bring to each other.” You can feel the bread being placed on your knees, and for a slight second, your body recognises that familiar feeling of warmth and comfort as you feel Abraham’s hand on your leg for a quick moment grabbing one of the two chunks of bread. Pal hands him the salt, and he adds an almost amusing amount onto it, you yourself doing the exact same, only with much less.

Abraham brings the bread to your lips, and with a surprising amount of grace you manage to take the break into your mouth, eyes widening as the sudden taste of salt hits you. Your hand moving to cover your mouth as it takes a few seconds for you to be able to swallow. But after that small moment, which you could see brought a smile to Abraham’s face, you place your own piece of bread by his lips, and with much less care for his manners he fully leans forward and places his lips over your fingers, leaving spit to cover your fingertips as you let go of the bread and it falls directly on his waiting tongue.

Pal gives the two of you a minute to swallow, but neither you nor Abraham needs it. And instead, the two of you take the time to admire each other in your respective wedding outfits. Your own eyes focused on the way his body somehow manages to look so good in the clean yet somehow still Abraham looking suit, while his almost can’t seem to focus on one thing. His eyes constantly roaming your body as if he can’t get enough of you.

“Now that that’s been done, the bride and groom, if you can continue to face each other please! It’s time for the last bit of the vows part before we can move onto dancing, which I can say for all is what we’re definitely looking forward too! Or in my case, the booze!”

A small wave of laughter is heard from the guests, and even a small giggle from yourself is heard. A doing which brings a small, barely noticeable smile from the man in front of you.

“Finally, the newly vowed couple of the rom and romni needs to do one final thing. Abraham, my friend, it’s time for you to kiss your new bride!”

Your breath feels like it’s swept away from you as Abraham steps closer to you and takes your head in his hands, before pulling you closer. Your eyes close in delight and you feel yourself so close to letting out some sort of noise of pure happiness when his lips firmly press against your own.

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat from your chest as your hands grasp around Abrahams vest and somehow try to pull him closer to you. You can feel his body heat overwhelming you, and you almost let out something akin to a sad sound when he eventually pulls away from you. Yet that quickly gets forgotten when you see Abrahams red swollen lips up close. And when you find yourself able to tear your eyes away to look properly at him, you can see his own eyes and doing just the same. Unable to look away from your lips.

The both of you are so smitten that you almost don’t hear Pal announcing how it’s time for the celebration dance. Only broken from the trance when Pal places a hand gently against the both of yours’ shoulders and murmurs the instructions to the both of you, choosing to ignore the knowing smirk on his lips as the both of you are lead to where the rest of the nights festivities are being held.

It’s beautiful, for there are various lights that are hung up all around that brighten up the space wonderfully, and many other things that are dotted around that bring a deep sense of fondness deep in your heart. Soon though, music floods the air as you giggle amusingly at the sight of your mother and father dancing wildly as if there was no one else there. As if his injury was never there in the first place.

You look at Abraham, but to your delight you find he is already looking at you with a content smile on his face. It’s strange, to see the once hard working and duty driven man that is Abraham look so soft in your presence. But you must say, it certainly begins to grow on you almost annoyingly quickly.

“Do you, do you want to dance?” You stutter, scared he’d say no to your question. Only to your surprise, he doesn’t. Abraham murmurs his own version of an agreement, and takes your hand in his own, bringing a deep flush to your surprised face.

To your delight, he brings you to the very centre of the makeshift dancing area, and he holds you close to him as he begins to move you in time with his body. His hands clasped firmly against your waist and your hand, his face tucked next to yours.

“I didn’t get the chance to tell you earlier, but you look gorgeous…” Abraham murmurs, his breath tickling your ear sending shivers down your spine. “Made me forget about everything except the fact that you’re mine now. That you belong to me, and the fact that now…” He takes such a deep breath as he pauses that he almost causes the hair tucked behind your ear to fall loose. “That now I’m yours too.”

You can’t help yourself from grinning at his confession, nor can you dare think to stop yourself from kissing his cheek lightly. Showing your own silent appreciation for his words.

The two of you dance for a while. Content in each other arms. Dancing till you’re forced to confess how much your feet are aching in your shoes. Yet even when the two of you sit down, Abraham still keeps his firm hold on you, refusing to let go of your hand from his. The only time he actually let go being when he insisted on getting you some food to eat after the long day, glaring and seemingly harsh when he practically forbade you from standing and getting it for yourself. But as little as you really know your husband, you know he means the best in his words and his actions. As he had said earlier, he protects fiercely what he loves.

You’re so wrapped up in thoughts with a smile that you can’t help but flinch slightly when you feel a hand place itself on your shoulder, yet a brighter smile when you see you father looking down on you with his own tearful smile.

“The two of you looked happy together when you were dancing. I don’t think the poor boy wanted to let go of you!” He grins, sitting down next to you in an empty chair.

“I didn’t either!” You giggle, smiling so fondly you swear you can feel your cheeks begin to hurt.

“I’m glad. I’m so happy for you darling that you’re happy. You know, I just remembered the talking too I gave that boy before this...”

“Oh dad you didn’t!” You gasp with your hands over your mouth, a horrified look on your face as you think of all the worst things as possible that couldn’t happened between them.

“Oh you bet I did! I refused to allow this man one moment of thought that he could get away with hurting my little girl! I told him clearly and firmly, that if he hurt you in any way shape or form, that he’d have me and all the lads making sure he paid for it dearly!”

“Dad!” You groan, embarrassed and horrified as you laid you head in your hands, your cheeks no doubt a bright red right now from the shame.

“It’s true! I may have weak bones, but that doesn’t mean I can’t give him one for sure!” Your father insists, much to your utter horror. It gets even worse when another voice joins in the conversation…

“I agree sir!” Abraham speaks, two plates in his hands as he places one in front of you and one in front of himself as he sits in another empty chair to your left. When you look down to see what he’s gotten you, you’re quite delighted to see a lot of your favourite foods there waiting for you to eat them.

“Thank you.” You say to him, genuinely surprised and grateful for what he’s done for you just now.

“Don’t be,” He grunts, tucking into a sausage roll on his place. “I got your mother to help me. Didn’t want to get you anything you hated or were allergic too or something…”

You don’t respond, choosing what’s best to respond with is a small hum of agreement and nod, before placing your hand on his which lays on the table. You have to try and not let out an audible noise when Abraham seems to instinctively clench his fingers around yours and firmly hold you. Ever the possessive man it seems your husband will be.

Your father looks at the both of you fondly, and he gives you a small smile and a nod of his own before he leaves to most likely go to talk to your mother or some other person.

“Did you enjoy it. Today, I mean.” Abraham grunts again, pausing his movements to look at you so intently you feel your whole body flush.

“Yeah, I really did. Think it’s the best day of my life.” You smile, genuinely feeling almost euphoric seeing his bashful face that he tries to hide with his now free hand. Though to save his embarrassment you move to eat your own food with a smile, staring at the dance floor where Pal has somehow convinced your mother to dance with him, much to your amusement as you begin to giggle at the sight.

Soon though, the night comes to an end as the parents take the little kids home, and the adults who have no children have other adults take them home after getting absolutely shit faced drunk, much to Abrahams amusement who huffs a laugh at them.

Your parents come to the both of you and wish you well, as your belonging have apparently already been moved into Abrahams caravan so you could stay there tonight. And due to them knowing of Abrahams family situation, they wish him the best of luck too. Even giving him a hug which you swear leaves him looking brighter than earlier.

The two of you are the last people to leave the party, but a couple other members of the clan offer to help bring the presents people have given the both of you, which Abraham and you accept gratefully when you see the sheer size of a few of them. Though when you see some familiar wrapping you remember seeing in your mother’s wrapping box you can’t help but laugh slightly in reminiscence of it all.

Abraham and yourself make it to his caravan relatively quickly whilst being followed by those who’d offered to help. They came in and left rather quickly, putting the gifts on a countertop before leaving, saying their own little congratulations while they do. Leaving you and Abraham alone in the room to look at each other.

A strange sort of silence overwhelms you, and it’s with a small gasp you suddenly feel Abrahams hand on your cheek caressing your skin carefully and softly.

“I think, if it’s alright with you little, we continue what you left me with at the stables…”