#Deflating Hyacinths

[caelusarchetype]

DEFLATING HYACINTHS 3/9

Pinterest Source

𝚝𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞

𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘

𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚒𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚢 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚎

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚙𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎

𝙰𝚑, 𝙸 𝚛𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎

𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜, 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 "𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎?! "

𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎

𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚢𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜

𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍

𝚖𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝

𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚝𝚘, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚒 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚁𝙴𝙼

𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝙸'𝚖 𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗

𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢

𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢?

𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢

𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

...

...

... 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚎?

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑t 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚎s 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚖𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢

𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚢

𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚔

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜

𝙸 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝, 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚐𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎

𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎

𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚡, 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎

𝙶𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝

𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢,

𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘 𝚒𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚡 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢,

𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘 𝚒𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍,

𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚑

𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎

#SAFARNAMA #Deflating Hyacinths

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

The Viscount is set on finding a wife this season, and you are trying again for your second season. While Anthony is dealing with trials between Edwina and Kate Sharma, you are dealing with trials of your own. Benedict Bridgerton is ever present in your life, but your pursuit to find a husband must come first. Society is ever so exhausting.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season Two

Chapter Nineteen - Together again

You had sat your mother down when you got home. She called for tea, and you sat down beside her, wondering how you were going to tell her the news. Your poor mother had been stressing out since she revived the letter from your uncle, your father's brother, about taking back his money to support you both while in London.

"Mother, I... Our situation may have come up with the Bridgerton's earlier, and I have recieved a very generous offer from them." You start slowly.

"Are you to wed one of them?" She sits up in her seat, looking at you eagerly. Of course she would assume that.

"Um, no."

She looks rather deflated with your answer. "What is it then?"

"The Viscount has offered to take me under his wing and set me a dowry aside. We don't need to rush to find me a husband. Anthony will look after us. Violet had offered to help find a suitor."

Your mother now looks elated. "Oh, darling, that'd wonderful!" She hugs you.

You smile. You feel like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

"Oh, this is wonderful! I must send the Dowergess something in return. My gratitude to that family will be forever endless."

You chuckle at how excited your mother is. You haven't seen her this cheerful in quite some time. It felt good to see her smile again.

"Flowers! I shall send her an abundance of flowers!" Your mother rises from her chair and goes off in search of a maid who she can send down to the flower shop. You roll your eyes with a smile.

Things were looking up again.

A couple of days later, you're at the Bridgerton house. It's as lively as you remember it being last year. Eloise was practising some dancing with Gregory while Violet watched on. Gregory didn't seem to mind dancing with his sister, but Eloise seemed to mind quite a lot. You knew how she felt about this whole thing.

Benedict was sitting on the couch nearby. You were sitting opposite him, watching them the two siblings dance.

"I do not think she is very good," Hyacinth says, coming over to sit with you.

"I believe she can hear you," Benedict says to her in response.

"I can hear you," Eloise confirms.

"Ow! Watch my feet!" Gregory looks up at his sister after she steps on his foot.

"Might we be done?" Eloise asks.

"If you are to catch the queen's eye after that interruption, you must be perfection." Violet states.

"I believe it was the interruption that was perfection," Eloise sighs.

"Shocking that Eloise Bridgerton was not named the season diamond, was it not?" Benedict says casually.

At that exact moment, Anthony comes strolling in. "Was anyone else aware that dear Colin has decided to add Albania or some such place to his itinerary as he gads about the world?"

"How wonderful it must be to travel," you say softly.

"I rather prefer the comfort of the countryside," Benedict comments.

"I do miss the country."

Benedict looks up from his sketchbook, of which he has been working very hard on, to look at you. "Then you need to come to our family estate."

You find yourself looking away shyly. He's still disappointed he didn't see you all summer.

"How lucky for him that he can simply decide to do that," Eloise remarks.

"Joining us for tea, Anthony?" Violet asks.

"Uh, I'm afraid I must pass. Too many calls on my funds today. Now that the season has started, I need to fill your coffers at the modiste and oversee the hiring of extra staff. And your ring. When you get the chance, I need it."

You look at Anthony silently. He was serious.

"The fields by Ferryhallow. I was thinking we might hold off on leasing them due to the hard frost." Anthony continues.

"I beg your pardon?" Violet looks at her eldest son.

"The frost hardens the soil, saps it of nutrients," he explains. "That is very well, but you requested my ring?"

"Father's betrothal ring."

"Did someone catch your eye at the presentation, Brother?" Benedict asks with a grin.

"I thought all the young ladies looked beautiful," Hyacinth chimes in.

"Not particularly. And all the young ladies looked the same. Like young ladies. I'd simply like to be prepared for when the opportunity presents itself," Anthony clarifies.

"The opportunity?" Violet asks.

"I've already compiled an index of the season's eligible misses and arranged interviews."

You look at Anthony in disbelief. He was serious. Those poor ladies.

"Interviews!" Violet chuckles. "Dearest, I shall be more than happy to give you my ring when you find someone with whom you are very much in love. Besides, it is in safekeeping at Aubrey Hall."

"Very well."

Violet slides up to the sofa Benedict is lounging on and looks at him. "See that he is quite well."

"Me?" Benedict asks, looking up at her.

"I'm not in need of coddling," Anthony says from across the room. "I assure you all, everything is in order."

Anthony checks his pocket watch and then takes his leave rather quickly. Everyone watches him go in silence. You turn to look at Benedict once Anthony is gone, and he just sighs, looking back at you.

Anthony Bridgerton was a stubborn fool.

Later that afternoon, while Eloise went to the market with Penelope, an endeavour you were not invited to take part in, you spent the hours with Benedict in his makeshift studio. He called it a studio, but it was merely a room he came in to sketch quietly away from his family.

You liked that about Benedict. The way he finds comfort in his own little bubble. He cared very little for society and all its trails. He was more tranquil.

You watch him sketch away, his attention deep into the pages in the book. Last year, he granted you the privilege to come see his hobby. He shared his work with you, and you complimented it. Even now, you had had no idea just how much you had impacted him and his art.

He rubs gently at the charcoal on the page, smudging it carefully. You watch with great interest as he examines his work. He pulls a slight face. While he decides if he likes it or not, you admire him.

Benedict Bridgerton is handsome, kind, funny, and gentle. He has an eye for detail and a smile to charm any lady who is lucky enough to witness it.

He would have no trouble finding a wife of he wanted to.

The thought makes you look down at the table quietly. It would be so easy for him to find a perfect match. Someone who compliments him and would look after him. You are not so lucky.

Though you hope to catch someone's eye at the ball tomorrow night, you won't hold your breath. You're not a pretty Bridgerton.

"Are you alright?"

You look up and meet his beautiful blue eyes. You swear you've never seen a shade like them before.

"Yes. Sorry. I've just been thinking."

"I can see that," he chuckles.

You smile softly and turn your eyes back to his book so you won't have to look at him again. "Do you ever plan on getting married?"

"Has mother put you up to this?" He teases.

"No, I just... You'd make a good husband."

"Is that what you've been thinking about?" He chuckles. "If I can help it, I'll remain a bachelor."

"I see." You sigh softly. You shouldn't be surprised. You won't mention marriage again to him.

Benedict watches you for a moment and then turns the page in his sketchbook. He sketches away quietly, glancing at you every so often. You don't even notice, too caught up in your thoughts again.

You were so beautiful when you were loat in your mind. No. You were beautiful all the time. Benedict hoped you knew that.

He did the best he could in a short span of time, taking in as many details as possible. You were a vision in his eyes. When he was sat fired with the sketch, he put his book down on the table and slid it over to you, nudging you out of your thoughts.

You look down at the book and see the sketch of you looking back.

"Benedict... you're so talented."

He chuckled softly. "I just want you to see yourself the way I do. I know how important it is to you that you find a husband and look after your mother. You'll find someone."

You look into those beautiful blue eyes and for just a moment with that he would be the one.

You look away. "Thank you."

Benedict also finds himself looking away. Perhaps he had been a little too forward there. However, he doesn't regret telling you what he thought.

You only sit there a few moments more before excusing yourself and heading home. It felt a little strange staying there for any longer.

Benedict sat alone in that room, unable to draw anymore. His mind was preoccupied now.

He wished you had stayed.

When you got home, your mother noticed how quiet you were. She watched you retreat upstairs alone. You wanted to call out to you and check you were alright, but she didn't.

You stayed up in your room for the rest of the afternoon. Only coming down for dinner. Your mother didn't ask why you had become so quiet. You would tell her if you wanted to.

It wasn't until you finished dinner that you spoke up. "Mother?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I'm going to make you proud. You know that, don't you?"

Your mother smile. "You always make me proud."

You smile back. You knew she meant it. Despite everything you and she had been through with losing your father, losing the country house, your uncle backing out of looking after you, you still had each other and you would make her proud. Every single day.

"I'm going to look after you," you tell her.

"You don't need to worry about me."

"I always do."

You both smile at each silently.

You swore to yourself there, and then that this year, you would do better. This year, you will find your place in the world.

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen - @berrnuu - @charmainemaclendon - @pinkpantheris - @krismdavis

@biancamde - @ifgslsofbsodbf - @kniselle - @berarenado - @grassclippers - @bwormie - @avengersgirllorianna

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #female reader #Bridgerton #dragon writes #season two

[jamespotterthefirst]

Most in the World (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart, book 1 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1.3K Rating/ Warning: E/ None

Premise: Things have changed in a year. And so has his answer to the question she once asked him: “Who do you love most in the world?” Part 2 of A Strong Affection.

Note: Set after the attack in book 2.

There was nothing remotely interesting about that day’s newspaper. Everything splattered on the front page was  a testament of the current state of the world and it did not surprise him in the least. Yet, Ethan stared at the newspaper so intently that his vision began to blur. 

“Anything good?” someone asked in a light, conversational tone. 

He inwardly cursed, forced to look up. If Lilac had been there, she’d tease him about his poor acting skills. Then again, if Lilac was there then the overly flirtatious barista would not have dared to strike up a frivolous yet coquettish conversation with him. 

“No,” he replied simply and truthfully. 

Anyone else would’ve added more to keep the conversation alive. Ethan was not one of those people. Not only because he was not interested but because he was in a hurry to get back to his apartment. 

Undeterred, the barista opened her mouth to ask about something else. Ethan, unable to tolerate any more misuse of his time, cut her off. 

“Any idea how much longer my drink will take?”

His brusque tone didn’t phase her, much to his discontent. 

“It’s ready,” she said, retrieving the icy drink from the counter behind her. She glanced down at the tan coffee drink, swirling with ice and caramel. Then, she raised an eyebrow at Ethan. “I didn’t take you for an iced caramel macchiato kind of guy.”

“I’m not.” He took the drink and without missing a beat, he added, “It’s for my girlfriend.”

Finally, his words had the desired effect. The barista tensed at the word “girlfriend'' then deflated all at once like a sad balloon. She made no effort to conceal her disappointment. 

“Oh.” The word was drowned out in the rumble of blenders. “She’s a lucky girl.”

Ethan left the crowded coffee shop without replying, Lilac’s coffee in hand. As the ice rattled with each step, he thought of the various ways he could tease her about her preferred drink. He could already see her reaction vividly in his mind—the roll of those stunning green eyes followed by a smile that could warm the iciest of hearts. And then he'd kiss her because he was a slave to those lips, to her hands around his neck, to that little hum that escaped her every time...

A colorful storefront tore him from his thoughts. Without a moment to hesitate, he walked into the tiny flower shop. The clerk—a kind, elderly woman— greeted him and helped him pick a radiant bouquet of tulips and hyacinths in various hues of pink and white. 

“What’s the special occasion?” she asked conversationally as she rang him up. Unlike with the overbearing barista, Ethan didn’t mind this question. 

“Nothing. I just saw them and thought of her,” he said truthfully. 

The woman glanced at him from the top of her glasses and gave him a knowing smile. “That’s so sweet of you, dear. Everyday's a special occasion with the right person.”  

The words were said in passing conversation with the characteristic wisdom of many people the woman’s age. In fact, Ethan doubted she thought much of them, but they resonated with him like golden bells. There was no more perfect summary than that for his time with Lilac. From romantic dates to long, tired shifts at the hospital—every minute he spent by her side had felt like a gift. 

“What’s her name?”

“Lilac.”

The woman’s eyes lit up. “What a gorgeous name! If she’s not sick of her namesake, I have a beautiful arrangement of lilacs and roses for next time.” 

“I’m sure she’ll love them.”

“Lilac’s a lucky girl.”

He arrived at his apartment only five minutes later, hands full with the coffee and her flowers. Ethan expected her to be sound asleep like she loved to do on their mornings off. He even had a fully developed mental plan of making breakfast for her and serving it in bed. However, he found her right outside his bedroom door, clad in one of his shirts and her hair still damp from the shower. 

When her gaze fell on him, that incandescent smile of hers greeted him. Its effect was just as powerful as the first day. Just like the first time, it made him feel weightless. 

“Ready for coffee?” he asked. 

Lilac raised her brows when her eyes fell on the iced coffee then the flowers.

“What's all this?” 

“Just wanted to bring you your favorite.”

“Is that why you got up so early?” 

“Yes. The coffee place across the street didn't have espresso. So I went to the one two blocks over.” 

She looked genuinely touched. Without saying a single word, she embraced him, pressing a quick kiss on his lips. Her fingers linger atop his on the cold, plastic coffee cup. 

“You spoil me, baby.” 

“You deserve it.”

He offered her the flowers and she admired them with a smile. 

“I'm one lucky girl.”

Lilac gave him another short but sweet kiss. 

“Everyone keeps saying that,” he said, still slightly dazed from her touch. “When it comes to luck, though, I'm the fortunate one.”

“You believe in luck now, Mr. Skeptic?” 

Green eyes that always took him in with yearning, love, respect… Soft hands that always found his… Rosy lips that molded to his and sighed his name in the most wondrous way— All of it for him. It had to be luck. 

“Yes. There are many things I was wrong about.”

He longed to kiss her again but a frantic, scratching noise against the bedroom door behind her interrupted them. 

“Is Jenner in the bedroom again?” he asked, already knowing the answer. 

Lilac feigned innocence. “No…”

There was more insistent scratching, as though to prove her wrong.

“I snuck my other boyfriend in?” she tried. 

Ethan rolled his eyes, moving past her.  Milliseconds upon opening the door, he was attacked by Jenner's paws on his chest and his excited panting. His tail wagged so fast that it was a brown blur. 

“You're not allowed in here,” Ethan told him sternly. He turned that sharp gaze on a sheepish Lilac. “And your mother knows that.”

Ethan's tone did not phase Jenner in the slightest. In fact, the dog took that opportunity to lick Ethan in greeting. Lilac, unable to contain herself, laughed at the scene. 

“Look at him, though,” she pleaded with Ethan. “He's just a baby! And he was all by himself on the balcony. I couldn't leave him out there!” 

Jenner, knowing the baby sing-song voice she used for him very well, moved on to attack Lilac with affection. 

“He's a dog.”

“You're a dog.”

“Very funny.”

She wasn't listening, though. All her attention was on balancing her coffee, the flowers, and the loving dog trying to lick her face. Ethan gently took the flowers and coffee and set them on the bedside table. Jenner, hyped up as he was, took that as his cue to hop on the bed. 

“Bad dog,” Ethan admonished. “Lilac, control your child.”

She did quite the opposite, hopping on the bed with him. 

“I'm kicking you both out to the balcony,” he said, trying his best to sound stern. At that very moment though, Lilac commanded the dog to turn all sloppy kisses on Ethan. He laughed, despite himself and landed on the bed next to her. 

“What am I going to do with you two?” 

“You love it,” Lilac challenged. “Jenner is your everything. He's the one you love most in the world, remember?” 

He said nothing for a moment. Jenner had grown bored by their lack of activity so he busied himself with one of his toys on the floor. 

“Not anymore,” Ethan said at last. 

She sat up to look at him. 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yes.” He leaned in to kiss her. “You've easily taken that title, my love.”

Note: I HC they said ILY after the attack. Hope you liked this! Thank you for reading!

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #playchoices

[spadecentral]

Lost Heart [Malleus Angst]

I found a tiktok prompt a couple of days ago, actually. It was: "I miss you" "But I left" so I've decided to do this with our good dragon boy Malleus over here <333

this is also very much shit and i cannot stress this enough this is not my best work so pleasepleaseplease do not judge my writing off of this piece

HERE'S THE REMAKE

He was never even invited to Yuu's going away party. Secluded in his castle, he had never gotten any news of the headmage even finding a way home for the magicless prefect.

When he went to Ramshackle dorm one night, he was expecting for Yuu to come out for another one of their night chats. But to his surprise, no one came outside. There wasn't even a sign someone was even inside the dorm. Hesitating before acting, Malleus made his way up to the gray wooden doors.

Pushing them open, he realized he hadn't ever gone past the common area of the dorm. Searching the rooms, he found no sign that Yuu was still living there.

Perhaps Child of Man had just slept at Heartslabyul Dorm tonight. Malleus reasoned. They do have two friends there, if I'm not mistaken.

Well, he was right about one thing.

The fae prince expected to see Yuu the next morning, and deflated a little when he didn't. Sebek could tell that there was something off about him, but didn't want to question it and intrude. Besides, he himself was still a little saddened by the sudden leaving of a close peer of his.

"Sebek," Malleus suddenly said, calling upon the freshman.

"Yes, Waka-sama?" he came to a stop before bowing, waiting for a command.

But what followed was only a simple question.

"Where is Child of Man?"

Sebek's breath hitched before speaking, continuing to look at the ground. "They left three days ago, sir."

"What," Malleus said. It wasn't a question at all. He was shocked. Malleus never expected to not know about their departure. He thought they were... close. Maybe even friends.

Malleus felt lost. Standing still, Sebek still bowing, the Prince of the Fae felt more lost than ever.

TWST Taglist: @tulipluvlettr | @ghost-hyacinth | @gh-0st-y | @ch3lun | @oseathepebble | @ventisaircurrent | @epelys | @pastelmages | @xphantasmagoriax | @atlasnessie | @divinesapph | @mystaposts | @ze-maki-nin | @v-anrouge (this is angst)

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst malleus #malleus draconia #twst wonderland #angst #twst angst #twisted wonderland angst #malleus angst #malleus draconia angst #twst malleus angst #twst yuu #@.twst.works

[eleanor-bradstreet]

A Brother’s Love: Healing

Characters: Benedict Bridgerton, Hyacinth Bridgerton, Violet Bridgerton Rated: G, angst from grief/loss Word count: 2.2k GIFs by @misskatesharma and @dailybridgerton

Masterpost Summary: A restless night for Hyacinth and Violet

Dedicated to @broooookiecrisp who has been patiently waiting for Violet to have her moment 💙

Benedict had grown used to the sound of a crying baby. All of the eldest Bridgerton children had. It had been a constant in the background of their lives as each new sibling joined them in the world. But even so, Hyacinth’s cries were something else entirely. Maybe it was because she was destined to have the strongest will in the family, or maybe it was because she inherently sensed the absence of her parents - an experience unique to her among her siblings - but she wailed like a banshee, and simply would not stop.

He had the bad fortune of his room being closest to the nursery in the family wing. All of the children’s rooms ran down a hall from there, and his mother’s and the viscount’s rooms were removed in the opposite direction. He had no idea if anyone else could hear Hyacinth’s screams, or if they were managing to sleep through them, but after almost two hours of unbroken cacophony, he had had enough.

He pulled on a shirt and trousers and marched over to the nursery door, not bothering to knock before opening it. Within, he saw a scene very reminiscent of the night Gregory was in so much distress when his sister was being born. The nursemaid, looking exhausted, was pacing around the room with the infant, bouncing and cooing to her, and trying to offer her anything that may pacify her cries. Tiny Hyacinth in her draping nightdress was squirming in her arms, red-faced and howling, unendingly, through her toothless gums.

The young nursemaid jumped when she turned and saw Benedict in the doorway. “Mr. Bridgerton! Sir, I’m so sorry. She simply will not quiet.” The poor woman’s face was desperate.

Benedict walked over to them. “Have you sent for my mother?”

The nurse looked at him with wary eyes. In a trembling voice, she responded. “She asked not to be disturbed unless something was dire. I did not want to bother her.”

Benedict could sense the uncertainty she felt. Everyone in the household, himself included, was still negotiating how best to interact with his mother. They all wanted to treat her gently, knowing the overwhelming distress she was in, and so they obeyed her wishes to largely be left alone. But she was still the parent of eight children in the house, and it became difficult to calculate when her solitude should be invaded to ask her to see to their needs.

Benedict gave a sympathetic nod to the nurse and held out his arms. “Let me give it a try.”

The woman balked. “Sir? No, you should try and sleep.”

Benedict shrugged, “It worked for my brother, perhaps it will work again.”

Without further resistance, the desperate nurse passed Hyacinth into his arms. Her piercing wails were now directly in his ear. “My god, but you’ve got some lungs on you,” he murmured with a smirk at the nurse. She looked entirely deflated, on the verge of tears to have been granted this reprieve. 

“Please go and rest,” he told her. “I will send for help if anything is needed.”

Stunned, the nurse only stared at him, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

“Please,” he gave her a reassuring nod, then winced as Hyacinth took a breath and shrieked anew.

Defeated but grateful, the nurse curtsied to him with a barely audible “Thank you,” and then ducked out of the room.

“Now,” Benedict sighed, bouncing Hyacinth on his arm, “What in hell will it take for you to stop crying?”

In response, she opened her mouth, squeezed her eyes shut and wailed directly into his face. She was not going to be as easy to tame as Gregory had been. A two month old couldn’t understand him the way a two year old could. He tried everything. He pulled faces at her, silly ones and scary ones, but that only seemed to make things worse. He jangled toys in front of her and she turned her head the other way, howling. He tried to place a wooden pacifier between her lips and she spat it at him, screaming anew with gleaming eyes.

How long this went on, he wasn’t sure, but he felt as if he was starting to go mad. He had no idea what spurred him to it, but suddenly his mind fell back on the French lessons he had been working so hard at, and he grumbled at the baby, “Tais-toi.” 

Immediately he felt a pang of guilt for cursing at this infant, but it vaporized when her cry faded and she looked at him, eyes swollen, in curious silence. Benedict held his breath, then tested the waters further. “Pouvez-vous me comprendre, ma sœur?”

Hyacinth blinked at him and cocked her head, staring at him in that fathomless way that only newborns can, as they experience something for the very first time. Dear god, had his sister somehow been born French? Now Benedict was sure he had gone mad. Of course she didn’t truly understand him. Nonetheless, he was so grateful to have found something, anything, that would stop her screaming, that he seized upon it. He launched into an entire one-sided conversation, chastising her for keeping him and likely the whole household awake that night. At this, she nuzzled her head into his shoulder and continued to stare up at him with huge eyes. Then, he walked with her about the room, pointing out each toy and piece of furniture, teaching her the French name. When she started to squirm, he sang a song, some silly little tune about a cat, and rocked his sister in time with the words, brushing his fingers over the wisps of light brown curls that were just starting on her head.

When he looked down at her face, he sighed in relief to find her finally, mercifully, asleep. He held her as if she were made of glass, careful not to do anything that would disturb her. He began to repeat the song, more softly, and gingerly sat down on the divan by the fire. It had been brought into the room for the nursemaids to sleep on when they needed to stay with the children and now Benedict understood why. He would sooner stick his hand into a fox trap than jostle Hyacinth by laying her in her cradle. He could rest with her for a while. He laid back and held her, his hand rising and falling against her back with her small, contented breaths. He was somewhere in the middle of his third round of the song when he helplessly sank into welcoming sleep.

—

Violet awoke in the dark from yet another nightmare. A fitful array of heartbreaking scenes where she found herself alone, searching or reaching out for her husband, only to find him missing or hopelessly out of reach. It left her feeling hollow, though she supposed that was all she had felt for months. 

Something had woken her. A noise of some kind had broken through the edges of her dreams. Was it a cry? She thought of Hyacinth, her last gift from Edmund, and longed to hold her. Maybe it would chase the shadow of her nightmare away. She wrapped herself in a dressing gown and found her slippers in the dark, then made her way noiselessly toward the nursery.

When she pushed open the door, the scene within made her breath catch in her throat. Benedict lay on the divan by the fire, holding Hyacinth on his chest, the two of them sound asleep. Nothing could have prepared her for what this elicited. All at once, Violet saw the past, present, and future, crystallized in this one image, this one moment.

For a fleeting instant, she saw Edmund holding Hyacinth, the same way he had held each of their other children. Though all of her sons carried some resemblance to their father, it was Benedict who bore the most striking similarity. At times, especially since Edmund had passed, Violet would confuse the son for the father, thinking she had just seen Edmund as his younger self, looking as he had when they first met. She had never told this to Benedict, but it was why she had kept the furthest distance from him in her grief. To see Edmund’s gentle eyes reflected in her son felt like a painful trick of fate. 

But now, in this moment, her heart ached with realization at what a gift it was. For one instant she could see Edmund united with the daughter he never knew, and if Benedict was the only way for her to imagine that, she was unspeakably grateful for it.

Then she saw the present; the moment as it truly was. Here was her second born son, no longer a child, caring for his youngest sibling. It rattled her to realize that he was now, in a sense, the eldest brother, while Anthony had become the viscount and head of family, a surrogate father to them all. Though she knew with certainty that all of her children loved each other, she also knew that Benedict’s heart was the biggest and most sensitive. She knew that he and Anthony had been tending to the children when she could not, but it wasn’t until now that she had considered how much of himself Benedict was apt to give. He was surely keeping smiles on the faces of his siblings and shepherding them through this unthinkable turn of events, while putting himself last. 

A cloud of guilt descended on Violet’s heart as the scene before her drove home how very absent she had been since losing Edmund. Anthony had enough to do, grappling with the title and its attendant responsibilities that were his birthright. That left Benedict, a good deal older than the rest, to devote his time to the children. She should have been there to help him. He was going to Cambridge soon and should be focusing on his education and his passions. But here he was, infallibly caring for those in need, as he always had. Violet sighed, knowing to her bones what a wonderful man her second son turned out to be, and what a wonderful husband and father he would no doubt make.

At this, her mind turned toward the future, and she saw Benedict holding his own child, her granddaughter, someday. Her breath caught again with the dawning image of the years that lay ahead. Her children would grow, each of them, even tiny Hyacinth who was so new. They would, god willing, grow to be men and women. They would, if they desired to, marry, and then, if god and desire willed it again, have children. She would be a grandmother, likely to an army of new Bridgertons. The love that she and Edmund had shared would echo down through dozens of branches of a family tree.

All this time since Hyacinth had been born, she could not dispel the feeling that she had reached an end point. That Hyacinth was the last piece of Edmund she had, and now that it had left her, she would never feel him again. But here, with a baby in Benedict’s arms, she could see - she truly believed - that her and Edmund’s eight beautiful children were just the beginning. The beginning of countless generations and households filled with love. 

Then, like sunlight peeking through clouds, she felt a brightness within her, an uplifting warmth that was eager to see that love. She was eager to see her children find their own true loves, as their parents had been lucky enough to do, and she was eager to see the children that would be born out of such love. She now realized that she could find Edmund in each of these moments, in every wedding and every birth to come, because without him, none of them would have occurred at all.

She needed to be there. She needed to see that future. And she needed to support all of her children in reaching it too. The cascading realizations rained down upon her and she wept, silently, a hand over her mouth as she stared in awe at her sleeping children. It was the first time she felt that she had the strength to contend with her grief. It was the first time she had seen the pathway out of the darkness. It was with her family, where it had always been.

When she had swallowed her sobs and steadied herself, she moved softly into the room and gently lifted Hyacinth out of Benedict’s arms and into her own. The newborn squirmed contentedly, nestling against her mother’s body. Violet reached out and ran a hand through Benedict’s dark hair, so much like Edmund’s, then planted a kiss on his forehead. 

“Benedict, dear,” she whispered.

He stirred, opened his eyes groggily and blinked in surprise when he saw her. “Mother…”

Violet beamed at him and brought a hand to his cheek. “Thank you dearest, for looking after your sister. Thank you for everything.”

A lopsided smile spread across Benedict’s face and he knew, somehow, that the days ahead would be brighter.

Translations: Tais-toi = shut up Pouvez-vous me comprendre, ma sœur? = Do you understand me, sister? (French speaking friends, correct me if I am wrong)

Author's Notes: This is the chapter I am most proud of. Violet's distance from her children in her grief involves so many complex emotions. I wanted to explore her perspective and establish an emotional groundwork for why she is so invested in her children's marriages moving forward. She is a flawed but well-rounded character. She grows, apologizes, and loves with incredible depth, and that is why I love her.

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #hyacinth bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton fanfiction #violet bridgerton #violet bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton family #bridgerton siblings #bridgerton prequel #fluff and feels #family love #family loss

[imagine-knb]

can i request? reader is together with kise, and is bestfriends with akashi. akashi caring and being protective of reader like a sister. while kise loves reader, there isn't denying that having a relationship with a celebrity, one that is flocked by girls, is challenging. wholesome, sweet but also with a little dash of angst please! thank you for writing!!!

I love a good angst request (°◡°♡) Admin Neon

“I’m sick and tired of this always happening, Sei!”

On the other end of the line, you heard Akashi give off somewhat of a sigh. It sounded garbled through the phone receiver, drowned out by the clicking of your shoes on your hardwood floors. You were pacing, trying to fill the echoing silence in your home with something – anything.

“What happened this time?” you heard Akashi ask through the phone, though his tone of voice implied that he already knew.

“Same as usual,” you bit out bitterly. You’d come to a pause near your home’s front door, leaning a shoulder up against a wall as you screwed your eyes shut in frustration, replaying the events of your date in mind. “Someone recognized Ryouta and asked for a picture. Instead of waving them off, saying he was busy, he humored them. Then a whole fucking line of them came out of the woodworks.”

You heard a noise, like a braying, and you paused in your rant.

“Are you at the stables?”

“I’m paying Yukimaru a visit today,” Akashi answered.

You could hear the horse breathing in the background and the sound of it softened the hard edges of your anger a bit. You deflated, doubt filling up the spaces where fury once occupied. This time it was your turn to let out a heavy sigh. Pressing your back against the door, you sank down until you were seated on the floor, head in your hands.

“I didn’t think dating a celebrity would be this hard,” you lamented. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Sei. Maybe I should break up with Ryouta.”

You continued your conversation with Akashi, weighing out the pros and cons.

Outside your home, holding a bouquet of pink carnations and purple hyacinths, Kise stood staring at the thin wooden door, having heard every word. He bit his lip, holding back the call of your name he desperately wanted to utter. Glancing down at your doorstep, he gently placed the bouquet down on the welcome mat. He gave the door one last look before walking away.

#kise #akashi

[fitrahgolden]

There's A World You Need To Know: 6 - This growing need

About a month later, Kate was in session with Gregory and Hyacinth, doing self portraits.

“Hey, Hyacinth. Can we talk about what’s going on in your drawing? Would that be OK?”

“Um, I don’t know if I can.”

“Oh, OK. Why do you feel like you may not be able to? Do you not want to?”

Hyacinth threw her colored pencil down. “I want to, but–”

Gregory sighed, exasperated. “She’s sad because you and Anthony don’t talk anymore.”

“Greg, shut up!”

“Gregory, if Hyacinth doesn’t want to talk about it, you can’t–”

“But I want to talk about it! She’s scared we can’t because it’s about you, not us. Not really.”

Fuck. “Um, you can tell me, if you’d like. I’ll let you know if I can’t talk about it, OK?”

“Well, Hy and I thought you and Anthony were friends but he’s never around when you’re here anymore. Um… Actually, we thought you were in love or something.”

Fuck!

“We tried to tell Mum and she told us we can’t talk about it. Which is so dumb! Why can’t we talk about it?!”

“Greggy, can you take a breath? Remember when we talked about how even if you write, or sing, or draw, or breathe, some things can still be really hard to talk about?”

“Yes,” the kids said in unison.

“Well, it’s no different with adults. And we said you really can’t make someone talk about something if they don’t want to.”

“But we want to talk about it.”

Kate took a deep, long breath. “OK.”

Hyacinth took a mindful breath as well. “Well, Gregory and I really liked when you and Anthony liked each other. Anthony was so happy. It made everything better. The stuff we talked about, with him spending more time with us and feeling more like a brother than a mum. He used to act more like Mum. I know he used to have to be our mum when Mum was unwell but she’s taking care of us now. For a little while he stopped being our mum but now he’s our mum again. I liked when he was our brother. I didn’t know he could be just our brother.”

“It was awesome!” Greg interjected.

“It was! So, when you guys started being friends and talking all the time, we thought he would be our brother forever. I know it's selfish.”

Kate put her hands over Hyacinth’s “It’s OK to feel selfish sometimes. Everyone does. And you’re doing a really good job talking about it. I completely understand what you are saying.”

“So, if you two got married, Anthony would be happy forever and so we would have our brother forever.”

“You guys, it’s very good that you want your brother to be happy. And I know you feel like you know what would make him happy, but it’s important to remember you can’t make someone happy and you may not know exactly what they need. And them being happy may not look the way you think it should. Just like we talked about with your mother, right?”

The kids just nodded, deflated.

“So… You aren’t in love and aren’t getting married?” Hyacinth asked shyly.

“Kids, I want you to focus on the things you can control. Do you remember what those things are?”

Greg spoke up. “How we handle and communicate our feelings, how we react to the world around us, and how we ask for help when we need it.”

He then turned to his sister and whispered, “That means ‘no,’ Hyacinth. They aren’t.”

—

Kate walked into her Mum’s house and it was quiet. “Mum?”

“Kate?” Mary walked out into the hall. “Hello, love!”

Mary gave Kate a hug, and when she did, Kate clung to her and couldn’t stop the tears from falling immediately.

“Kate? Kate, what is it?”

“I messed up, Mummy.”

“Come, let’s sit down.”

Once they settled on the couch in the living room, Mary clutched Kate’s hands.

“What happened?”

After a breath, Kate answered, “I resigned from working with the Bridgertons.”

“Oh, honey. I’m sorry. I know it’s hard for you when you stop working with a family. You get so invested in your work. But, you said you messed up?”

“Well.. I–I got too invested. In the kids. And…in their brother.”

“Ah.” Mary sat back. “You two are…together?”

Kate shook her head vigorously. “We, um, we kissed. About a month and a half ago. But I haven’t seen him since.”

“OK. Well, I know that wasn’t OK, you know, because of you work, but if it was just a kiss and you aren’t seeing either other–”

“No, Mummy. It wasn’t just a kiss. I, uh, I think we love each other.”

“Oh.”

Kate squeezed her eyes shut and put her head in her hands. Mary started rubbing her back. “I know I shouldn’t have, but I kept seeing Greggy and Hy afterward. But it was… I couldn’t be who they needed me to be, who I had been for them. They started talking to me about Anthony. About me. It was a disaster. They took it pretty hard, but I had to explain to them that I’d gone as far as I could with them and I recommended Will Mondrich. He’s great. We work the same way. He’ll be good for them. But they were so upset. And I couldn’t do anything about it. They hate me.”

“I’m certain that isn’t true. You did what you had to, sweetie. I’m so sorry.”

They sat in silence as Mary continued rubbing Kate’s back and Kate’s tears continued to fall.

“So… What did you tell Anthony?”

Kate winced. “Nothing.”

“Kate.”

“I know. I’m scared. I don’t think this is enough for us to be together. And I can’t look him in the eye and disappoint him again.” 

“He’s going to find out, if he hasn’t already.”

“I know.”

“And then what?”

Kate shrugged, defeated. “He knows where to find me.” And she dreaded the idea.

—

That night, Anthony parked his car in front of Kate’s house. He took a few shallow breaths before running up to her door and knocking, too loud and too rapidly. He could hear shuffling on the other side of the door, but when it didn’t open, he knocked again.

“Kate, please open the door.”

There was another pause and he raised his fist to knock again when the door opened slowly.

Anthony took her in. She's painting, he thought. It was obvious from her clothes and the colorful smears everywhere. He thought about the photo she sent him while she was in Cork. The photo that would his phone's background right now if, A) Tom hadn't been the one who took it, and B) his family weren't so fucking nosy. She looked so beautiful when she was in her element. She looked beautiful all the fucking time.

"Are you alone?"

Her voice was almost a whisper. "Yes. Well…"

On cue, a little corgi puppy ran up and sat at Kate’s feet, looking up at Anthony.

"You got a dog,” though his voice implied a distinct lack of interest.

"Yes. His name is Newton." Kate stared at Anthony, not sure what to expect.

"OK. May I come in?"

Kate’s eyes widened. "I don't think that's a good idea."

It stung, but too many things were going through Anthony’s mind to linger on that. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I knew Violet would. Or Will would introduce himself."

"So? This is it, Kate. It's what was standing in our way."

Kate said nothing and Anthony panicked.

"Right? Right, Kate? Do you still… I thought this is what we were waiting for."

"It's not that simple."

Fuck, of course it wasn’t. "I love you. Do you love me?" He tried his best not to sound angry. He wasn’t angry, but this was killing him.

"Yes." Her voice was small but sure.

Anthony felt himself exhale and hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath. At least she hadn’t hesitated. "We love each other. You aren't working for my family anymore. What else do we need?"

"Time."

"What?"

"I can't jump into a relationship with my clients' brother as soon as they aren't my clients anymore. There has to be time. Distance."

Distance? Literal distance? "How long?"

"I'm not sure, Anthony. I’m sorry."

Anthony stepped forward and pulled Kate's face to his, their foreheads touching. "Then we'll wait to tell people."

Kate shook her head vigorously. "No."

Goddammit. "Kate."

"No, I don't want us to be a secret. You deserve better than that."

Things were silent for a while save for their ragged breaths.

"Can I please kiss you?" Anthony was begging and he didn’t care. He’d never felt so desperate.

Kate nodded before tilting her chin up so their lips could meet. Immediately, Anthony’s hands were everywhere. They eventually made their way into the bun sitting messily atop her head. He blindly fumbled until her hair fell around her back and shoulders. Newton had the decency to fall asleep at some point before this.

Forgetting himself, he worked open the oversized button down she was wearing, revealing a old stretched out tank top that was so fucking thin. He started to push the overshirt down her arms, but stopped suddenly when he remembered they were in her open doorway. He may have stopped undressing her but he couldn’t stop kissing her.

"You're sure it has to be this way, right? You can't invite me in right now? I miss you so fucking much, Kate. Invite me inside. Please."

"No. No, not yet." Kate protested between kisses.

Anthony whimpered. "As soon as you say when, I'll come running. You know that, right? You are it for me."

Kate just nodded, tears mixing into their kisses but neither of them let up.

"And I'm it for you, right? Can I hear you say it? I need something. Fuck, I feel like I'm dying, baby.”

"You're it for me. I promise. I love you."

#anthony x kate #bridgerton #kanthony #kanthonyedit #kate and anthony #kate x anthony #kate bridgerton #kate sharma #kate sheffield #bridgerton au #anthony bridgerton #anthony and kate #lord bridgerton #therapist au #kathony #kanthony fanfic #there's a world you need to know au #there's a world you need to know

[inlovewithquotes]

"I would like to marry Hyacinth," he said. And then because the Viscount did not say anything, because he didn't even move, Gareth added, "Er, if she'll have me."

And then eight things happened at once. Of perhaps there were merely two or three, and it just seemed like eight, because it was all so unexpected.

First, the Viscount exhaled, although that did seem to understate the case. It was more of a sigh, actually -- a huge tired, heartfelt sigh that made the man positively deflate in front of Gareth. Which was astonishing. Gareth had seen the Viscount on many occasions and was quite familiar with his reputation. This was not a man who sagged or groaned.

His lips seem to move through the whole thing, too, and if Gareth were a more suspicious man, he would have thought that the Viscount had said, "Thank you, lord."

- Its In His Kiss

#quotes #book quotes #books & libraries #literature #funny quotes #bridgerton #its in his kiss #anthony bridgerton #gareth st clair

[purple-hyacinth-diaries]

this ep was monumental but it's the a/n for me lol

#the way Soph deflated my balloon #lauki moments #purple hyacinth #ep81 - Willing Witness

[lesbianjackies]

Rosa Moschata

Five Hargreeves x GN!Reader

Word Count: 581

Warnings: Mentions of Reggie being a poopoo father

Summary: You and Five have a heart to heart over musk roses.

General Taglist: @caladrius103

Five Hargreeves Taglist: @dragon-master-kai, @justbookworm

Moots: @iheardarumorthings, @scandalous-chaos, @thewritingbabe, @ddejavvu

“What are you doing?”

You looked up from your notebook to see Five, standing there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. “Documenting wildlife,” you told him, jotting something down.

“Oh.” He sat down beside you. “To help with your powers?”

You shrugged slightly. “Somewhat. But mostly I just like nature.”

Five nodded. “What do you have so far?”

“Mmm…” You flipped back a few pages. “Ah, right. Musk rose, or rosa moschata.” You showed him your notes and rough sketch of the flower.

“Wild origins unknown, suspected to grow in the western Himalayas…” he muttered the words to himself as he read. “Wow, you know a lot about this stuff,” he commented once finished, duly impressed.

You blushed, bookmarking your page before closing the notebook. “Thanks. I guess I kinda have a natural knack for it, with my flower powers and all.” You chucked shyly.

“Could you grow it?” he asked.

You nodded, excited at the opportunity to use your power. Biting your lip, you focused on the ground in front of you, willing the shrub of white flowers to spring up from the soil. Slowly, the bright green sprout coiled up from the ground, growing rapidly into its adult form with your help. You smiled triumphantly, satisfied with your work, and picked a bloom off, bringing it to your nose and inhaling its signature musky scent.

“Could I smell?”

You handed him the flower and he brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply.

“Smells musky,” he commented.

You laughed. “Yeah. It’s called the musk rose for a reason.”

“I like it.” He put it in his blazer pocket. “Mind if I take it home with me?”

“Not at all,” you said brightly. “It looks good on you.”

Five smiled a bit, in that small smirky way of his. “Need any help?”

You shook your head. “I could use some company, though.”

Five nodded, taking the musk rose out of his pocket and smelling it again. “I wish this was how Dad helped us grow our powers,” he said wistfully. “Instead he just trains us to the brink of death.”

You frowned. “Your father makes me very angry.”

He laughed bitterly. “Yeah, he makes most of us pretty angry too.”

“Why don’t you leave?” you asked. “Come stay with me. My parents might mind at first, but they’ll get over it. I just… I don’t want you to have to deal with that.”

Five sighed. “I want to. Believe me, I do. I just… can’t. I can’t leave Vanya and Ben to deal with that, and I can’t leave the others either.” You opened your mouth, but he cut you off before you could speak. “And I know what you’re gonna say, and no, you can’t take all of us in. You have three siblings, (Y/N/N), your parents can’t deal with seven more kids.”

You looked down, deflated, and a sad clump of hyacinths grew near your feet. Five bit his lip, then tentatively reached out to touch your hand. You looked up in surprise. Five had been getting more comfortable with you as of late, but he never touched anyone, not even you.

The boy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know, I know. You just… looked like you needed it.”

You smiled, curling your fingers around his. “Thanks, Five. And I’m always here for you, no matter what.”

A soft smile found its way onto Five’s features. “Thanks, (Y/N).”

And you stayed there for the rest of the day.

#five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves x y/n #five hargreeves x gn!reader #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves fluff #five hargreeves oneshot #five hargreeves blurb #five hargreeves drabble #five hargreeves fanfiction #five hargreeves fanfic #five hargreeves fic #five hargreeves #number five x reader #number five x you #number five x y/n #number five x gn!reader #number five imagine #number five fluff #number five oneshot #number five blurb #number five drabble #number five fanfiction #number five fanfic #number five fic #number five

[bridgertonbabe]

Hiii can you write a drabble of Edmund and Miles meeting Sophie at number 5 and Edmund immediately loving her and wanting to go to their grandma's house everyday just to see Sophie again because she's so sweet and caring with them (cute little moments between Edmund and Sophie before she becomes their aunt)

I have read some fics/drabbles where Sophie and baby Edmund interact but is always after she married Benedict and i thought it would be cute to read them interact together when she was still a maid

Your writing is amazing ❤

Thank you so much! ❤

Here's Edmund meeting and growing fond of his aunties new lady's maid;

Two months ago, Edmund became a big brother. His parents had explained several months previously how there was going to be a new baby in the family. His father had brought his son's little hand to his mother's stomach, telling Edmund that this was where the baby was until they came into the world. 

Though he had comprehended it somewhat, and upon meeting his new baby cousin David his mother had told him he would soon have a baby brother or sister of his own, it still didn't fully register until he met his sibling. 

His father had brought him into their bedchamber where his mother's swollen stomach had largely reduced since he had last seen her and she now cradled a little bundle in her arms. His father settled him on the bed and introduced Edmund to his baby brother, Miles. 

From then on Edmund had practically stayed by his mother's side - not out of jealousy, as his parents had worried he might respond to the new arrival - but so he could spend every waking moment with his baby brother. He would ramble away to Miles and loved it when his mother placed his brother in his own little arms. 

"I love you, baby." he would say to Miles and kiss his forehead, melting the hearts of his parents and whichever female relative was visiting.

However, after two months, Edmund was getting a little impatient. Sure, he loved his brother; but he didn't do much. He never replied to Edmund when he wittered away to him and he didn't move, always being carried around everywhere. His parents had explained to him that Miles was still little and wouldn't be able to play with him for a while yet. Edmund had deflated, desperate for this new shiny thing in his life to interact with him. But alas, he would have to learn to be patient.

One day he and his brother and parents paid a visit to his grandmother's house where his aunts Eloise, Francesca, and Hyacinth also resided. Upon entering the drawing room he was kissed and cuddled by his aunts and grandmother but then they all flocked around his mother who carried his brother. He didn't understand why they were all so amazed to see Miles; did they not know he didn't do anything?

Disgruntled, he went to clamber up on the chesterfield when he realised there was another person in the room. A maid was sat doing some mending but Edmund didn't recognise her. He had visited his grandmother enough times to know all the maids to look at - but this maid was new.

Intrigued, he marched right up to her with big inquisitive eyes.

"I'm Edmund."

The maid looked up, not having anticipated being talked to and her face softened as she looked at him.

"What a pleasure it is to meet you, Edmund." she replied with a kind smile and Edmund thought she had the loveliest sounding voice.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"That's Sophie, Ed." his Aunt Hyacinth answered as she sat down beside the woman. "She's our lady's maid."

"Sophie." he uttered in comprehension as he took her in.

She had a very pretty face and the softest green eyes. Her hair was pinned up but he could tell her blonde locks were very curly from the tendrils that framed her face. Above all else, Edmund thought Sophie had the most wonderful smile.

Fascinated with this new person, Edmund suddenly clambered up on the divan between his aunt and Sophie, and then proceeded to plop himself into the maid's lap, his legs scrambling the dress she was working on off onto the floor.

"Edmund!" his father called out and he began approaching his son. "We don't climb on people!" he said authoritatively but in a gentle tone he reserved only for his son - unlike the vexed tone he used when reprimanding Newton.

"Oh he's no bother, Lord Bridgerton." Sophie chimed in.

"I like you, Sophie!" Edmund grinned up toothily in appreciation that she had defended him.

"That's awfully sweet of you, Ed." his father couldn't help but smile. "But you made Miss Beckett drop her mending."

"Oh pish!" Hyacinth waved off, grabbing her dress from the floor in front of them and shoving it under the divan. "I always tell her there's no need to mend when we're having tea. Good work, Ed." she winked and gave her nephew a pat on the back.

"Are you sure you're alright, Miss Beckett?" Edmund's father asked.

"Of course, Lord Bridgerton." Sophie nodded and returned the beaming smile Edmund was giving her.

For the rest of the afternoon Edmund talked and talked away to Sophie. She was a way better conversationalist than Miles! Sophie hummed as he spoke and laughed when he laughed. She was the most delightful person he had ever met!

When it was time for his family to leave, Edmund cuddled into his new friend.

"I love you, Sophie!" he said, and everyone in the room had awwed at his earnest affirmation.

                                                                                                                      From then on, every time Edmund visited Number Five or met the residents in the park, his first port of call was rushing up to Sophie and telling her everything that had happened since they had last spoken. He took great pleasure in sitting in her lap and loved how she gave him such undivided attention. 

He told her all the time how he loved her, being the loving child that he was. Edmund was renowned for declaring his love for everyone and everything, telling his own parents and brother multiple times a day how much he loved them, as well as his grandmothers, his aunts and uncles, Newton, Aunt Eloise's friend Penelope, and now Sophie.

A newer habit of Edmund's was his want to see women with their hair down. He loved playing with his mother's hair when she had it down at Aubrey Hall or when they had no guests round. Most of the time, however, she had it up, and it greatly annoyed him. Regularly he would paw at her hair and try to tug her dark curls loose, no matter how many times his mother would weakly ask him not to. He would do this to his grandmothers and aunts too, eager to have their hair down so he might play with their tumbling locks and feel how sleek and silky they were.

As a result, he one day decided he wanted to see Sophie with her hair down. She always kept her hair up in a bun but he wanted to see more. Upon entering Number Five he had immediately bypassed his grandmother and aunts and gone immediately to Sophie on the sofa, clambering up so he stood next to her and wrapped his arms around her neck in greeting. As she hugged him back, he slyly took the opportunity to bring his hands up to her hair, feeling the hair pins, and tugging them out.

Sophie squeaked and pulled back as some of her locks came loose and Edmund cheered at the waterfall of golden curly hair cascading around her.

"Edmund!" his mother called out. "I'm ever so sorry, Sophie. He's rather determined to see every last woman in Mayfair with their hair down at the moment."

"It's alright." Sophie said and smiled at Edmund. "It's no trouble."

"You're so pretty, Sophie!" Edmund beamed. In his opinion, girls always looked prettier with their hair loose. Why they had to hide their hair high up on their head, he couldn't understand.

"Why thank you, Edmund." she blushed with amusement.

"Here, Sophie, let me do your hair for once!" Hyacinth grinned and stood behind her to fix her maid's hair.

"No!" Edmund whined as his aunt began twisting Sophie's hair back up.

"Edmund, dear; why don't you go outside and play with your Uncle Benedict?" his grandmother suggested.

Edmund hadn't even noticed his uncle was in the room; he too was looking rather adoringly at Sophie. Though he wanted to stay and ensure Sophie's hair remained free, being all of two years of age, he had no choice but to let his uncle take his hand and lead him out into the garden as they kicked a ball back and forth between them.

He huffed his annoyance that women couldn't walk around with their hair down and that he was always told off for trying to untangle women's locks for them. His Uncle Benedict grinned at his nephew's ramblings. Edmund then began talking about Sophie and saying how nice she was and how she always kept him company.

"I love Sophie." Edmund punctuated his five minute long talk of the woman. "Do you love Sophie too, Uncle Benedict?" he then asked. In Edmund's mind, surely everyone should love Sophie as much as he did.

His uncle stilled momentarily upon the question but then his expression softened and a crooked smile broke out on his face.

"I do, Ed." Benedict replied. "I really, really do."

                                                                                                                  Some weeks later, when Edmund was being tucked into bed one evening, his father didn't read a bedtime story like normal. Instead, he told his son some news.

"Edmund; your Uncle Benedict is getting married. You're going to have a new aunt." his father grinned.

Edmund gasped with delight. "Really?" He already couldn't wait to meet his uncle's bride. "What's her name?"

"Actually, Ed; Uncle Benedict is going to marry Sophie."

"Sophie?!" Edmund gasped even more. "Sophie Sophie?"

His father chuckled. "Yes, son. She's going to be your Aunt Sophie from now on."

The news filled Edmund with awe and upon his uncle's wedding day just a number of days later, he ran up to the new Mrs Bridgerton. She bent down to embrace him as he engulfed her with his little arms.

"I love you, Aunt Sophie!" he whispered into her ear.

"I love you too, Edmund." she hummed back and kissed him on his chubby cheek.

As she pulled back and rose up, she let out a gasp as she felt her hair falling around her. She looked knowingly to Edmund, his little hands clutching a hold of her hair pins.

"Edmund!" she laughed.

"Good work, Ed." Uncle Benedict smiled and picked up his nephew in his arms, taking the pins from him and pocketing them. "You know, I have to agree with you, Edmund. Aunt Sophie does indeed look even more beautiful with her hair down."

#asks #requests #bridgerton #bridgerton drabble #sophie beckett #benophie #edmund bridgerton ii #benedict bridgerton #aofag

[caelusarchetype]

DEFLATING HYACINTHS 2/9

Pinterest Source

𝚁𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝙳𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕

𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚜.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚝.

𝙸 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎.

𝚆𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜.

𝙸 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢.

𝙷𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖.

[ꋬ꒒ꌦꇙꇙꋬ] 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢, 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎.

[υℓуѕѕєѕ] 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍? 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕.

[ꋬ꒒ꌦꇙꇙꋬ] Indeed, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕. 𝙰𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚜, 𝚊𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚡 𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚎, 𝚊𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝙸, 𝚝𝚘����, 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚕. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘, 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕.

[υℓуѕѕєѕ] 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚖𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗?

[ꋬ꒒ꌦꇙꇙꋬ] 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. 𝚃𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢, 𝙸 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚞𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢. 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚢.

"𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚢𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚑.

𝙰 𝚙𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚝.

𝙶𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎

𝙶𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎

𝙸𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚢𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚑 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎, 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎'𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛

𝙸𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚢𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚑 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛

𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚢𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚑, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝙸 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖,

𝙳𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝

𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍

𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚜. "

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎

𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎

𝙸 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜

𝚃𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

#Deflating Hyacinths #SAFARNAMA

[liaromancewriter]

Just For Tonight

Premise: Nothing in Max and Sienna’s relationship goes according to schedule, including their first official date.

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Sienna Trinh x M!OC (Max Valentine)

Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff.

Words: 1,905

Trope: And they go on a Date / First Date

View Series Masterlist

A/N: This is set during the original Maxenna series, taking place during the latter part of Love Somebody before their discussion in the last text message. As I was working on Piece by Piece, I thought it'd be fun to revisit their relationship before everything changed. And a first date was something I hadn't covered before.

I'm participating in @choicesficwriterscreations Flufftober event, Prompt "First Date".

By the time the knock came on her door, Sienna Trinh had done the best she could to make herself look pretty and presentable.

The second half of her shift had been unusually long, partly due to the patients assigned and mostly because of the anticipation of finally seeing Max Valentine after almost nine months.

The last time had been on his birthday in October when they’d spent an early fall evening on Edenbrook’s rooftop enjoying the view of Boston’s skyline under a full moon.

The goodnight kiss captured by the tabloids and the intense scrutiny that followed had them stepping back from each other, pretending that it had been a passing fling rather than a beautiful friendship that had just started to become something more.

It had all been part of their plan, thought Sienna, but she hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to see him in the arms of other women, each more beautiful and interesting than the next.

And certainly, none of them looked haggard or felt rundown after spending fourteen hours or more on their feet dealing with sick patients, cleaning up puke and other bodily fluids.

He could do so much better than her.

There were times when it felt like the strong smell of hospital antiseptic was permanently embedded in her pores, no matter how hard she scrubbed at it in the shower. Still, she spritzed the floral fragrance her parents had sent her as a birthday present and hoped it was enough.

Sienna checked herself in the full-length mirror hanging on the back her bedroom door. The black off-shoulder dress with its flared skirt was stamped with red poppies and fell in graceful lines down to her knees. The gossamer black scarf, a gift from Cassie, would work well as a wrap in case the early June evening turned cool.

She’d kept her make-up light, just enough to cover the tired lines from the day. Her jewelry consisted of chandelier earrings in the shape of a Celtic Love Knot and the Dara necklace he’d once given her.

Because her idea of fancy likely differed from that of a Valentine, she hoped she looked respectable enough for what he had planned.

Taking a deep breath, she walked out of the bedroom and past the living room, glad to see that her roommates had made themselves scarce. Swinging open the apartment door, she deflated with disappointment when it wasn’t Max that waited for her.

“Doctor Trinh?” said the man, his black uniform and chauffer’s cap giving away his identity. “From Mr. Valentine.”

Sienna smiled when he handed her a bouquet of hyacinths, her favorite flowers, unfolding the note attached with a blue ribbon. There were just two words written inside: Happy Birthday.

“I’ll wait, Doctor, if you’d like to put them in water first,” said the driver.

“Thank you. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Twenty minutes later, the black town car with its shaded windows turned into an underground parking garage. When the car stopped, someone opened her door from the outside and Sienna recognized the woman as Lauren, the assistant manager she had met last year.

“Welcome back to the Hudson Back Bay, Doctor Trinh,” she said with a smile. “Please follow me.”

Sienna followed Lauren into the elevator, watched her insert a key before pressing the button to the penthouse floor. Nervous, Sienna locked and unlocked her fingers as the car ascended, the doors sliding open within minutes.

And there stood Max Valentine, handsome in an expensive, dark suit, his blonde hair neat, the style shorter and smoother than the last time they’d met. His smile matched the one she could feel spreading across her face as she stepped off the elevator and placed her hand in his outstretched one.

They had eyes for no one else. Her brown eyes stared in wonder at his green ones, so like his sister’s and therefore so familiar to her.

“Thanks, Lauren,” she heard him say just before the elevator doors swooshed shut.

“Happy Birthday, Si,” he whispered when they were alone, his lips brushing her cheeks, first right, then left before they closed over her lips in a brief kiss.

“Come on,” he said, clasping her hand in his as he led her through the open double doors.

When Sienna stepped over the threshold, her hand dropped from his at the sight of more hyacinths in shades of white, blue and pink sprinkled around the penthouse suite. Their scent enveloped the room so that she felt as if she was walking into a spring garden.

The faint sounds of jazz drifted through the air and the twinkling fairy lights further transformed the hotel suite into something magical.

In front of the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the Charles River, she could see an elegant table set for two, lit candles flickering inside colored glass and silver domed cloches matching the light gray tablecloth.

“Max…” she started, her voice soft and awestruck as she turned to face him.

He was leaning back against the now closed doors. To Sienna, he always looked confident and so self-assured ─ something she envied ─but observing him now she could also see the nerves around his eyes and in the way his hands slipped inside the pockets of his pants.

Stepping closer, she rested her hands on either side of his face, his shaved skin smooth against her palms. This time, she closed her lips over his, showing him without words how much she appreciated everything.

“Thank you,” she said when she pulled back. “Everything looks magical and lovely.”

“It’s not every day one turns thirty,” he said simply. “Come. You’ve had a long day and I’m sure you’re starving.”

He held out her chair, waiting until she was seated before lowering himself into the chair opposite her.

“Traditional beef pho,” Max said as he removed the cloches covering the dishes with a flourish. “For dessert later, we’re having strawberry shortcake.”

He poured wine into her glass and then his. A pinot noir, she noted that went well with the rich flavors of the broth.

“How did you know these are my favorites?” she asked with surprise, reaching for the chopsticks and spoon for the broth.

“Did you forget who you live with?” he teased thinking of his sister, Cassie, as a secret keeper and picked up his own chopsticks. “I know you don’t like to eat a lot the later it gets, so I hope it’s okay that I kept the menu light.”

“It’s perfect,” she smiled, digging into her meal. “Are you staying in Boston a few days?”

“No, I can’t,” he said regretfully. “I need to be at the office in Arlington tomorrow and then I’m off to Cape Town for about a week.”

Sienna stopped at that. “Max, did you come here just for me?”

“Of course,” he said as if it was that simple. “How’s the pho?”

“Delicious,” she said absently, still reeling from his statement. “If you’re about to tell me that you made this…”

He burst out laughing.

“I’m good, Sienna, but I’m not that good,” he said, his laughter dispelling the sudden awkwardness.

“I remember you went to Cape Town a couple of years ago too,” she said, her statement a half question as she tried to find a neutral topic.

“When I was in my old role,” he confirmed. “We’ve been looking to expand The Hudson Group into Africa, particularly South Africa and then potentially Morocco, as they’re both tourist hotspots. I had identified a few properties back then that could work for us.”

“The deal finally closed last month,” he continued, refilling her empty wine glass. “In my new role, I need to go back and finalize the operational details before we can break ground. In about 14 to 18 months, we should have the first Hudson Hotel & Resort on the continent.”

Sienna watched the way his face became animated when he talked about his work, and the satisfaction he must feel at everything he had been able to accomplish. She knew from all their discussions before how hard he worked when he could have used all the benefits of his last name and just coasted.

But, like his sister, he wasn’t content to be a Valentine in name only. And just like Sienna, he earned everything he achieved. The distance between them didn’t seem as unsurmountable now as it had when she was getting dressed earlier, but it was still there.

“Sienna, is everything okay?”

“Yes,” she said, shaking off her reverie at the hesitancy in his voice.

“You’re so passionate about what you do,” she explained. “Everything you just talked about sounds so much more interesting compared to the daily grind of hospital life.”

“I think you’re the remarkable one,” he said with sincerity. “We have very different jobs, but yours is to literally save lives. Not many people can say that and mean it. I know I can’t.”

Feeling nervous again, she raised the wine glass to her lips to wet her dry mouth.

“What are we doing here, Max?” she asked, her voice betraying confusion and uncertainty as she put the glass down and folded her hands on the tabletop. “With your name, your looks, you could have anyone. Someone you could share this fascinating world that you inhabit, be able to go anywhere around the world, do anything.”

His hands reached for hers, the warmth of his palms seeping through hers.

“To answer your first question, Sienna Trinh. We’re here on our first, official date,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Every other time, we were two friends hanging out. But for tonight, you’re Sienna and I’m Max. We’re two people who are attracted to each other, having a lovely dinner, some conversation, and hoping to see where it goes next.”

“And the answer to the question you’re afraid to ask is simple. There’s no one quite like you,” he continued, tightening his grip when she tried to pull away. “And one day, when we stop playing this game with the tabloids, and you’re truly ready to hear it, I’ll be happy to tell you exactly why you.”

With that, he let her go.

Sienna continued to sit, watching him move around, expertly clearing their dirty dishes, putting them away in the room service cart off to the side before topping off her wine glass. She remembered he’d told her once about working in room service and it showed.

“May I have this dance?” he asked, smiling gently when Sienna placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her out of her seat and into his arms.

He held her close as they swayed to the music; her head on his shoulder, content for now, but reality wasn’t far. She stiffened at the thought, her heart skipping at the realization that this time away from everything couldn’t last. Not really.

“Let go, Si,” he whispered in her ear, his tone pleading. “It’s me and it’s you. Please. Just for tonight, forget everything else.”

The arm around her waist pulled her closer so that her head now rested against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, knowing that hers moved in tandem with his.

And Sienna let go.

At midnight, the carriage would turn into a pumpkin and she back into a pediatric resident in scrubs. Until then, she would let herself pretend, just this once, just for tonight, that she was exactly where she belonged.

Perma-tags: @jamespotterthefirst @starryeyedrookie @genevievemd @forallthatitsworth @queencarb @ohchoices @openheartfan @danijimenezv @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @schnitzelbutterfingers @mainstreetreader @tsrookie @bex-la-get @chaoticchopshopheart @headoverheelsforramsey @thegreentwin @dorisz @custaroonie @pixelnathayes @adiehardfan @takemyopenheart @dickgraysonsscrumptiousbooty @jerzwriter @choiceskatie @mm2305 @a-crepusculo @barbean @beastlyinstrument @electroniccreatorwerewolf @rosebudde @lucy-268 @crazy-loca-blog @writer-ish @pixelberrygirl @wanderingamongthewildflowers @trappedinfanfiction @rookiemartin @drakewalkerfantasy

@openheartfanfics

Max & Sienna only: @alj4890 @clanlahela @gryffindordaughterofathena @utterlyinevitable @katrinegrey

#sienna trinh #sienna trinh x max valentine #choices fic writers creations #cfwc flufftober #open heart choices #oph fics #choices open heart #sienna x max #sienna trinh x oc

[spadecentral]

🤍 Lost Heart | Malleus Draconia x Reader

>> requested: no >> a/n: ahhaha this is actually a remake of the old version that sucks ass

>> masterlist: here!! >> summary: you leave and malleus doesn't know >> reader prns: they/them >> warning(s): angst

Listen to: THIS while reading

Looking out of the window of his room within the Diasomnia castle, Malleus’s eyes caught hold of the lights seeping from the main campus. He was surprised, as he didn’t recall anything happening that late at night. But he was always out of the loop, so he pretended it didn’t bother him for not being invited.

Malleus’s heels were loud as they clacked against the tile floors and echoed against the walls of the Diasomnia dorms. He decided that it was time for him to go on a night stoll, instead of being cooped up all night without being productive in the slightest. By going out, he could accomplish examining the gargoyles around campus for the upcoming Gargoyle Club meetings–which the Child of Man never failed to go to–for the umpteenth time.

The cobblestone paths were lumpy under Malleus’s shoes as he progressed through the campus. Finally, the Ramshackle dormitories came into view. He came to that part of campus regularly, always watching the gargoyles that were perched atop the building. As he sat down on one of the rickety benches, Malleus waited for the front doors to open. The night wasn’t too cold–at least, not to him at least–so he was fairly certain that you would come out to see him.

And yet, you didn’t.

He was expecting at least some sign that you noticed him–unlike the other people of the school. He hesitated before he stood up and brushed off his pants. The hill felt steeper than usual as he made it up to the graying wooden doors. He was going to knock, but found the door to be slightly ajar. Noticing this, he waited a moment before pushing the door open. It was then that he realized that he had never really made it past the common area of the Ramshackle dorm.

Malleus took his time as he sauntered through the dorm, going room to room looking for you. When he didn’t find you, he started to create excuses for where you could have been.

Perhaps the Child of Man had just slept at Heartslabyul Dorm tonight. Malleus reasoned with himself as he started to make his way out of the dorm. They do have two friends there, if I'm not mistaken.

Well, he was right about one thing.

The fae prince expected to see you the next morning on his way to classes, but when you didn’t show at all, his demeanor deflated a little. Sebek, of course, could tell that there was something off about Malleus, but didn't want to ask and make it seem like he didn’t believe Malleus wasn’t tough. Besides, Sebek himself was still a little saddened by the sudden departure of a close peer of his.

"Sebek," Malleus suddenly said, calling upon the freshman that was walking just behind him.

"Yes, Waka-sama?" he came to a stop before bowing, waiting for a command of any kind.

But what followed was only a simple question.

"Where is the Child of Man?"

Sebek's breath hitched before he answered the question, continuing to look at the ground. "They left last night, sir."

"Ah," was all that had come out of Malleus’s mouth. He never expected to not know about their departure. Not even see an invitation letter. He thought they were... close. Maybe even friends.

He was wrong. It did hurt to not be invited, and this time he didn't know how to hide it.

>> malleus taglist: @tulipluvlettr | @strawberry-hyacinth | @oseathepebble | @wisteriainslumber | @villaim | @pastelmages | @xphantasmagoriax | @atlasnessie | @divinesapph | @ze-maki-nin | @silly-ez | @l1vyatan | @savanaclaw1996 | @enigmatic-pers-reblogs | @cupids-chamber | @queerlordsimon | @kyraxiyn | @nem0-nee | @rayisalive | @v-anrouge

#twstnexus #twst #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x you #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus x reader #twst malleus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #@.twst.works

[labyrinth-runner]

Mum’s the Word

Part Four of A Garden in Gotham.

Read the rest here

Not my gif :) borrowed it from google.

Word count: 3k

He came to see you every day that week. The amount of flowers he was amassing was almost silly. 

“Roman, you don’t have to keep buying flowers from me,” you chuckled as he came in on Saturday morning.

“Why would I stop?” he asked in confusion.

“Because soon your apartment will be over run with flowers,” you smiled, leaning your arms on the counter. “You’ve already wooed me. You don’t have to keep doing this.”

He smirked and leaned his arms on his side of the counter, leaning forward to bump his nose against yours. “The day I stop wooing is the day I lose interest.”

You felt a blush creep up your face and your mouth went dry. “In that case, I hope you never stop.”

Roman smiled at you before peeking over your shoulder at the wall of flowers. “So, what do we have to say today?”

With a shake of your head, you bit your lip and turned back to the wall. “I’ll surprise you.”

“I don’t know if I like surprises,” he said darkly.

“Nonsense, that’s the businessman in you talking,” you replied cheerfully. When you noticed his expression hadn’t changed your brow furrowed and you asked softly, “Surely this isn’t just a business transaction to you?”

His eyes widened in shock. “No! Of course not!”

“Good,” you breathed a sigh of relief.

He checked his watch and sighed. “I’ve got to go, darling. I have a meeting across town by the docks. I’ll see you later for our date.”

“Alright, Roman. I’ll bring the flowers later. On me this time. You’ve bought enough,” you smiled, watching him leave the shop. After the door closed behind him, you allowed yourself to deflate. The docks of Gotham weren’t a pleasant place to be. What was he doing there?

You sighed, figuring that he’d tell you more about himself in time. A sneaking suspicion was creeping into your mind that there was more about him than what he was willing to show you. He couldn’t be so bad that he would have to lie about himself, could he? Although, every now and then you’d catch glimpses of things that were out of place. Of anger, or frustration... a general guardedness within him. Those parts piqued a sense of danger in you... but also of interest. There was definitely more to Roman than meets the eye. You thought back to his little henchman who followed him around like a shadow, almost like a demon from his mind made flesh. Roman was different around Zsasz than he was with you. The burning question that came to mind was simply: Which Roman was the real one? You doubted that you’d find an answer to that any time soon. Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you turned back to your work orders for the day.

“No flowers today, boss?” Zsasz smirked. “Are we over this chick already?” Zsasz could only hope.

“No. She’s bringing them later for our date. She wanted to surprise me,” Roman sighed as he settled into the seat.

“Surprise? You hate surprises,” Zsasz shot back.

“Yes, but she made a good point. I hate surprises in business. Our relationship isn’t business,” Roman replied thoughtfully. In truth, he didn’t know what to classify the two of you as yet.

“Yeah, well, don’t let her change you, boss. You’re fine just the way you are,” Zsasz said.“The day a woman changes Roman Sionis is the day that Gotham freezes over.”

Roman mulled that over for a moment. Ever since you entered his life, he’d felt happier. However, he didn’t think that the changes occurring were your doing. Sure, your flowers were taking over his apartment, but that was his choice. You never asked him to change. He wanted to change, for you, because of you. Some insecure part of him was afraid that you wouldn’t love the life he lived if you knew. You were many things, but it was apparent that the crime life wasn’t one that you would ever be inclined to lead. He knew that. That was why he hid this side from you. This was all he’d ever known, and yet, a part of him wondered what life would be like if he didn’t do this.

The car pulled up outside an abandoned warehouse. He slipped his mask out of the center console. For once, it didn’t spark joy as he looked at it. Instead, it just reminded him that even he wore a mask. He just didn’t know these days if he wore a mask around you... or around Zsasz. His gaze flicked to Zsasz who was grinning at him.

“Ready, boss?”

He looked back down at the mask. Infected by Zsasz’s demeanor, he felt a rush of excitement. Roman slipped on the mask. “Let’s do this.”

You finished the rest of your orders for the day and started on your bouquet for Roman. With a stroke of your chin, you started to pull flowers from the wall into the basket. “Pink Chrysanthemums... blue hyacinths... and white camellias,” you murmured thoughtfully as you finished gathering flowers. Carefully, you placed the basked on your table and started to build your bouquet. When it was done, you tied it off with a bow. Then, you said goodbye to your staff for the afternoon and went home to get ready for your date.

There was a fair bit of things to do. After the very fancy date that Roman took you on last time, you wanted to show him the other side of the coin. You built a picnic for the two of you, planning to spend the afternoon with him in Robinson Park. There was a spot by the pond that you knew would be the perfect place for a picnic. After packing the food and drinks in the basket, you placed the flowers on top. Then, you found a blanket and folded it. Now, you were ready to go. Deciding to really have a relaxed date, you walked to his place, going into the club despite the weird looks you were given and continuing up the stairs to his apartment.

Roman was surprised when he opened the door. “Darling, what have you got there?” he asked in amusement.

“Its for our date,” you smiled. “I planned a picnic in the park.”

Zsasz snorted from his hiding spot in the kitchen.

“That sounds lovely,” Roman smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. You could tell that he was uncomfortable. You looked down at his suit and tilted your head.

“You might want to change. I wouldn’t want you to get your clothes dirty,” you murmured.

“I think I’d rather wear this,” he said with a strained smile. “Zsasz, bring the car around.”

“Actually....” you murmured. “I was hoping we could walk there? It’s not too far, and it’s a beautiful day out.”

Roman swallowed. “Right. Never mind, Zsasz.”

Zsasz had a weird look of glee in his eyes, thinking about his boss walking around the dirty streets of Gotham. Oh, he could taste the victory of getting rid of you.

With a sigh, Roman offered you his arm and the two of you made your way down to the street.

“If you’re uncomfortable, we can do something else,” you said softly as you reached the end of the street.

Roman sighed, turning to face you. “You were uncomfortable last week. It’s only fair that I’m uncomfortable this week. Besides, there’s nothing Roman Sionis can’t do.”

Gently, you tipped up on your toes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”

A slight blush crossed his face at the tenderness. “Y-yes, well, let’s get going. Let me have the basket. I can’t make you carry it all that way.”

You chuckled and gave him the basket to carry. You then laced your hand with his and started to lead him towards the park. On the way there, you pointed out the various flowers growing in window boxes. When you weren’t discussing flowers, you were discussing childhood stories as you passed by museums and restaurants. Finally, you reached the perfect picnic destination that you had picked out.

With a flourish, you took the blanket off the top of the basket and spread it on the ground. You plopped down and patted the spot next to you for him to join you. After a moment’s hesitation, he sat next to you and moved to peak into the basket.

“So, what do we have here? Caviar? Wine? Charcuterie?” he asked.

You chuckled as you pulled out it’s contents. “Water, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, fruit, and some cookies that I made.”

He let out a sigh. “Well, we can’t have fine dining always, can we?”

“Hey, they were made with love!” you said in mock offense.

“Oh, I’m sure they were,” he chuckled as he took a sandwich that you gave him.

“You’re lucky I didn’t say we were getting a hot dog from a vendor,” you smirked.

“Of course we couldn’t do that. We have to save something for the next date,” he joked as you took a sip of water.

He made you laugh, causing you to choke on the water. His eyes widened as he took the water from you, gently rubbing your back until your coughing subsided.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Just don’t make a habit out of almost killing people,” you smirked.

His face fell. “No, of course not. That would be bad.”

“Hey... I’m okay,” you reassured, cupping his cheek. He winced at the touch, not quite used to it and gently took your hand from his face.

“Our sandwiches will get cold,” he said with as sad smile.

You nodded and the two of you ate in silence for a moment before you remembered the flowers.

“I almost forgot! These are for you,” you said with a bright smile as you handed him the bouquet.

His hands were reverent as he took them and brought it up to his nose to breath in their scent. His eyes closed as he smiled. “These are beautiful. What do they mean?”

“Well, chrysanthemums mean optimism and joy. Hyacinths symbolize playfulness, like our current date, and white camellias symbolize adoration.”

“Are you saying that I’m adorable or that you adore me?” he asked with a smirk.

“I’ll leave that up for viewer interpretation,” you teased.

“I love them,” he smiled as he reached for a cookie.

Soon enough, your picnic was over.

“Well, this was fun,” Roman said earnestly.

“There’s more to the date than just this,” you smiled.

“More? I don’t know how much more I can handle,” he chuckled.

“Well, there are sail boats that you can rent to pilot around the pond. I thought we could do that for a bit,” you said hopefully.

“That sounds like fun,” he replied, helping you clean up the picnic. 

The two of you made your way over to the rental hut to get your boats and placed them in the water.

“I used to do this all the time with my dad when I was younger,” you murmured as you steered your boat in circles around his.

“I always wanted to do this, but my family never really had the time for it. I remember driving by and seeing families here and wondering what it would be like,” he softly said. 

You noticed that he was having trouble steering his ship and was growing frustrated, jamming the controls roughly with his thumbs. Gently, you went up next to him and placed your hands over his, explaining how it worked and teaching him how to do it. His frustration evaporated and he kissed your forehead.

“Thank you, darling,” he smiled as he got the hang of it. You spent the rest of your rental time racing around the pond or doing loops around each other’s boats.

“Now what?” he asked after you returned the boats.

“Well, there is a swing set over there,” you replied playfully. “I’ll race you.”

“Isn’t that a little childish?” he asked.

“You can ponder that while I win,” you smirked before taking off.

“That’s cheating!” he called after you as he started to run. 

You had to laugh at the sight of a full grown man in a suit running to a playground. He caught up to you, picking you up around the middle and spinning you around. You let out a cry of delight.

“Roman!”

“Cheating is naughty,” he purred in your ear.

You bit your lip in response, trying to stifle a moan that threatened to come out.

He set you back down on the ground and you placed the basket next to the swings while you got on and started to swing. With a shake of his head, he joined you on the one next to you. 

“I haven’t done this in years,” he grinned as he swung higher and higher.

“You’ve relaxed,” you commented.

He turned to look at you and raised a brow. “Yes, I suppose I have. I’ll admit, I was skeptical about this date when you came over, but I’m enjoying myself. Perhaps life isn’t all about the finer things. After all, we’ve only spent about twenty dollars on this date and it’s the most fun I’ve had in months.”

“Good. I’m glad,” you smiled before jumping off the swing and sticking the landing.

Roman tried to jump as well, but he was so high that he couldn’t stick the landing. Instead, he landed on his stomach with his shirt in a small patch of mud. He let out a groan.

“Roman!” You exclaimed as you quickly knelt beside him. “Roman, are you okay?”

You smoothed some hair out of his face, concern creasing your brow.

He groaned as he sat up. “I’m fine. My ego’s more bruised than I am.”

“Oh, Roman, your shirt,” you murmured, taking in the mud patch. 

He grimaced. “Lovely.”

You noticed a shirt vendor cart out of the corner of your eye and gently checked his shirt size. 

“Wait here,” you told him, kissing his nose. 

Roman watched you leave in confusion. He’d just fallen and your first instinct was to run away? That wasn’t good. He started to get annoyed, but then he noticed that you had come back with a shirt and his anger vanished.

“You got me a shirt?” he asked softly.

“Of course! I know you wouldn’t want to walk around with a muddy shirt on,” you replied, handing him the white garment that said ‘I <3 Gotham.’

He chuckled at the shirt, thinking it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever seen, but he loved it, because you bought it for him. “I think I saw a bathroom by the pond. I’ll go change and then we can head back.”

You nodded, walking over with him. You plopped down on a bench outside to wait for him. The date hadn’t quite gone as you had planned, but it had still been a good day. When Roman emerged, he did a small spin to show off his shirt.

“Well? How do I look?” he grinned.

“I think it will be all the rage in Paris next year. They’ll call it the Sionis and everyone will want to wear it,” you teased.

He waved you off. “Very funny, darling. Let’s get you home.”

The walk back to your house was a lot lighter than the walk from his apartment earlier. You chatted about fun date ideas like the one you had today, and things that he liked to do that you would be comfortable doing. Soon enough, you’d settled on an idea for your next date as you pulled up to your building. You fished around in your basket for his flowers and handed them to him.

“Good night,” he smiled. “I had a lot of fun today. Thank you for all of this.”

“You’re welcome,” you beamed. Hesitantly, you touched his cheek again. He didn’t wince this time. Instead, he leaned slightly into it. “Let me know when you get home so I know you made it there safely. The streets aren’t safe at night.”

Roman nodded before tipping your chin up and kissing you softly. “I’ll talk to you later.”

You slipped away and into your home.

Roman sighed as the door closed behind you. He could call Zsasz to pick him up. Or... he could walk. He hadn’t been on a walk on his own in so long. Carefully, he made his way back to the club, smiling at the flowers in his hand. He knew he looked silly, in a suit with his new t-shirt and holding flowers. He definitely didn’t look like the King of Gotham’s Underbelly that he actually was. But, he didn’t care. He was falling hard and fast, and he was realizing that maybe... maybe he had been so miserable because he never really wanted the life he had. Spending the day with you had opened his eyes to the lighthearted fun that he was missing out on. He could never tell Zsasz this, though. This... this would have to be his own secret. Something he kept to himself. At least for now until he figured out what he wanted. Until then, mum’s the word.

He made his way up to his apartment, finding Zsasz in the kitchen. Roman rooted around for another vase as Zsasz laughed at his shirt.

“Woah, boss, what happened to you?” he asked incredulously.

“Oh, fell off a swing set,” he replied, waving him off as he arranged the flowers.

A swing set, Zsasz thought, she got him in a playground? She has to go.

“Well, I’m sure she doesn’t know how a person of your caliber should be treated,” Zsasz said dismissively.

“No,” Roman smirked, “But, she sure knows how to have fun. I like that about her.” He made his way back to his room and placed the flowers next to his bed so that he had something pretty to wake up to in the morning.

#Roman Sionis #roman sionis x reader #roman x reader #A Garden in Gotham

[hournites]

Blackouts (2/2)

 part one

~.~

“You two made a bomb?”

Beth sat with Rick on the wooden bench of disciplinary torture. It was stiff and uncomfortable—worse, it smelt like sweat and fear. She had to squash down an anxiously clawing urge to tap her foot against the floor like Rick, a habit that used to annoy her. A habit she doesn’t even have.

Beth has never been in trouble at school. Ever.

Not one detention or demerit point or strict scolding by any teacher or playground monitor since Kindergarten. Beth never had to sit on this bench. Never been in the principal’s office for any other reason than collecting a plaque or certificate of achievement. Never felt this slimy guilt-ball of awful. It’s only been forty-five minutes, but sitting here in shame as their peers passed by through the big window of the office in front of Principal Bowin and Pat and the nice secretaries that worked here and God was punishment enough. She felt like a terrible human being. A liar. A cheater. A scoundrel.

Principal Bowin crossed her arms in her matching dark green skirt and jacket suit, far too displeased for a woman who spends her weekends hypnotizing innocent people to death with her husband’s fiddle.

“Not to harm anyone! This is bullshit!”

Beth held her tongue, but she had to give it to Rick. This sucked.

Why did Mr. Hyacinth have to correct his prescription glasses? He never bothered to notice their experiments in Chemistry class before! And Rick couldn’t get in his bad graces, he needed to do well in chemistry to figure out more of his father’s equations and codes. He was doing well in the course, Beth thinks he might have a shot at the regional science competition that she's pushing him to enter. A win there would look amazing on college applications and Rick was super good at it! He couldn’t afford another black mark on his student record, not now.

“I’m sure you know this act of delinquency is a serious offence,” Principal Bowin continued. “Explosives are weapons and they—”

“—A stink bomb is hardly an explosive—”

“—In fact, I ought to bring in the county sheriff—”

“Pat!” Rick cried. “She’s blowing things all out of proportion—”

“Bad word choice, Rick,” Beth muttered under her breath. He groaned and tried to think of something else to say, but under Principal Bowin and Mr. Dugan’s judgmental glares, he thought better of it and slumped back against his seat. Beth stared down at her shoes. She could never bring her parents to another parent-teacher assembly ever again. They were going to be so disappointed.

“How could it be a stink bomb? There was no foul smell in the report sent by their teacher.”

“Because we never set it off!” Rick snapped, lying to save their butts, and rather convincingly too. “We weren’t trying to hurt anyone.” Which was true. “We finished the assignment early and we got bored. I mean, this was just a prank that I made Beth help me with—”

Beth glanced up at the two adults, knowing if Rick continued the way he was, he’d only screw himself over.

“Mr. Dugan, this was all my fault. Rick had nothing to do with it!”

“Save your breath, Beth.”

He turned to The Fiddler. “May I have a word with these two? Alone?”

She let out a huff. “You have five minutes. When I return, we will discuss repercussions.”

The door shut firmly behind her, and they all waited for the click-clacks of her high heel shoes down the hallway before they all started talking at once.

Pat put his hands on his knees to stare at them at eye level. A truly incredible guilt-tripping tactic.

“— Bombs? At school?? Are you out of your minds?”

“For the last time, they’re not explosives. It’s just—”

“It’s for JSA!” Beth blurted out.

“Yeah, look sorry I’m not sorry, Pat. They’re important and we need them.”

“Explain. Now.” Pat never looked so mad. Not at Beth. She squirmed in her seat but Rick barely looked affected, if only the least bit remorseful. She didn’t know how he could sit so still in the face of a disappointed father figure.

Oh. Beth mentally cringed when she remembered why that was. Right.

Rick glanced sideways at her. Beth let out a sigh and reached into her backpack’s front pocket to pull out the blackout bombs. They had figured out how to make them compact last week. They looked like the fancy things her mom would put in her bath when she wanted to relax. Or charcoal gumballs from a retro candy machine.

“Rick and I came up with these so that I could throw them at ISA as a diversion when I need to run.”

Pat took one, bringing it up to his eye. “What does it do?”

Rick and Beth went quiet.

“Guys.”

Beth bit her lip. “We call them blackouts. When they hit the ground they mask the area with a thick black impenetrable smoke that makes it hard to see.”

“Yeah,” Rick chimed in. “So that Beth can use Chuck’s night vision to safely get away or blind opponents so she could have that upper hand.”  

“It’s not lethal? Toxic?”

She shrugged. “Not so far as we could tell, no. We never got sick and we've been carrying samples of them for weeks.”

His eyes bugged out. "Weeks?!"

Rick stifled a laugh.

Pat stared at them, slack-jawed. “ How did you come up with this?”

It was Rick's turn to shrug. “It’s just simple potassium nitrate.” He scratched his head. “And some other stuff. Beth made an Excel spreadsheet.”

“Don’t you potassium nitrate me, Rick Tyler. This is dangerous. And irresponsible. And frankly Beth, I’m shocked you went along with this for so long. At school? During class?”

“We’re sorry, Mr. Dugan.”

“Yeah,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “Sorry that you got caught.”

Beth’s face fell. “Are we getting suspended?” She hated the way her voice cracked. She hated the way Rick’s arm immediately went around her too. It was nice but she didn’t want him feeling bad for her because she couldn’t take a simple scolding. Ugh, she was so sensitive.

Pat confiscated all of the bombs. “I don’t know. I hope not, because you’ve never been in trouble, Beth. I’d hate for that to change now.” He looked at Rick. “But you. That’s a whole other story.”

“We didn’t do anything that warrants more than detention.”

"You're very lucky your mother and father aren't here, Beth. I don't know what they'd say about this." Pat began to pace, ignoring Rick’s excuses. “And since when and why did I become your emergency contact, anyway?”

Rick pulled a face. “What do you think?”

Beth’s hand found its way to his knee. Rick’s jaw tensed, but he sucked in a breath before looking away.

“...Right,” Pat said with a sigh. “Your uncle.”

The room went silent.

“Okay, well I’m glad you trust me with your screw-ups. Because that’s what this is. A big screw up, you hear me? You’re not doing these kinds of reckless experiments again.”

“Yeah,” Rick replied, crossing his arms and staring up at the ceiling. “We get it.”

“Rick, I don’t think you—”

Beth stood up from the bench of shame. “Don’t be so hard on him.” She wrung her hands, and her heart leapt out of her chest. She was really terribly bad at confrontation. Especially to adults. Super especially to nice adults she trusted and had let down. But she needed to defend Rick, he got enough to deal with already. She wasn’t about to let him lose Pat’s respect. Not because of her.

“I knew it was a dumb idea to do in school, but he only did it because he wanted to protect me.” She refused to look back and see Rick’s face, but Pat’s own went soft. “And Rick is really good at chemistry. Don’t take this away from him, Mr. Dugan.” Her eyes began to well up with inexplicable tears. This was really dumb. Beth needed to get a grip. “Please.”

Two hands were suddenly on her shoulders. Rick. He squeezed, rubbing with his thumb. “Beth,” he whispered. “You don’t have to do this. It was my dumb idea. You knew that. I don’t really care for school anyway, to hell if I get suspended or Mr. Hyacinth returns to thinking I’m trash. Whatever.”  

Beth frowned. “You’re lying.” She turned around and his arms dropped to his sides. His eyebrows pulled together as he stared at her, unable to read her sincerity. “You do care. I know you do. Stop taking the blame for me on the stupid stuff we both do. If we’re going down...We’re going down together.”

Something warm and wonderful seeped into Rick’s eyes. His hand flexed and Beth used her courage to take it again, tangling their fingers together like the first time they first started making the blackouts. “Beth.”

“I care about you, Rick,” she admitted, feeling her face heat up. It wasn’t like she was confessing an undying love for him or anything, of course, she cared, he had to know. “I’m in your corner. Always.”

Rick stared at her some more, unsure what to say. Slowly, he raised their joined hands and brushed his lips over Beth’s hand. Her stomach dropped like that one unforgettable time she rode the Dive Bomber at Omaha’s Six Flags. But this time she didn’t want to throw up. At all. This rush was thrilling. Beth could feel Rick’s kiss tingle down to her toes.

Mr. Dugan cleared his throat and the two tore their gazes away from each other, Beth slowly turning back to face him. He gave the teens a long look.

“Fine. Here’s the deal. Experimental weapon building only happens at the garage under my constant supervision. No ifs or buts.”

Beth stuck out her hand. “Deal!” She turned around to look at Rick. "It's a good compromise!"

“Your garage doesn’t have any of the chemicals we need.”

“Then I’ll order some,” he retorted. “Need I remind you that the school principal is a part of the ISA?”

“Yeah.” Rick’s stubbornness on the subject seemed to have deflated in its entirety. Beth held in her smile when Pat gave her a knowing look because they both knew why.

Principal Bowin returned, looking very annoyed. “Apparently, the school board has plans to use Beth Chapel for televised school advertisements and have no desire to hear my complaints about the matter as there’s no proof. They won’t even let me call her parents about it.”

Beth let out the biggest sigh of relief.

“So she’s free to go.”

Mr. Dugan smiled.

“Rick Harris, however—”  

Beth took a step forward and raised her head high. “I won’t do any commercials if Rick isn’t excused. That’s not fair. We weren’t making any bombs, Principal Bowin. The beaker exploded. We were in the lab. It happens.”

Mr. Dugan wrapped his arms around both kids. “They’re good kids. If Rick needs some type of community service, he can work at my garage.”

Rick looked at him. “Really?”

“Really?” Beth echoed.

“Yes. Starting Monday.” He ushered them out of the office while they still could. “I’m sure that would suffice, Principal Bowin?”

“But—”

“Need I point out that I am clearly not this man’s father? You do know who his father is, right Ma’am? Matthew Harris? The man Rick had tried to file student reports about for the last several years for neglect and abuse? Reports your administration did nothing about?”

Principal Bowin paled. “Uh.”

“Thought so. Have a nice day.”

He saluted, shepherding them out.

Beth turned to Mr. Dugan as they went outside, still holding Rick’s hand. “Mr. Dugan that was awesome!”

“You gotta start calling me Pat, Beth.”

“She’s not ever calling you Pat,” Rick teased with a smile of his own and squeezed her hand before he let go. Beth watched fondly as Rick tentatively, awkwardly, hugged Mr. Dugan in front of the flagpole. “But she’s right. It kinda was.”

Her heart flipped as it always did when Rick opened up his feelings to other people. She cares for him so much. More than anyone. More than her parents. It was crazy how much. It was almost like...She thought about the way he kissed her hand, eyes piercing into hers in The Fiddler's office and felt giddy all over again like—

Time stopped. Beth's feet stopped working as she realized something important about what she felt for Rick.

Oh.

#hournite #rick tyler #beth chapel #pat dugan #amaya bowin #hournites fic #blackouts #chapter 2 #completed #fluff #pat be like: did i just witness a reenactment of pride and prejudice??