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tnsophiaonly · 2 days
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This just made me think about Sagau/Sahsrau I'm so sorry)
Creator Reader: Give your creator a hug!!!
Characters who have long lost faith in deities/is really neutral about deities/doesn't really care about deities: uh okay... *Puts an arm on your shoulder and slightly moves you closer, just slightly*
Reader: I spent hours, weeks, months, YEARS., building and understanding your lore and character, and this is how you treat me?
Character: uh.... *Scared*
Reader: EMBRACE YOUR CREATOR!
Character: *immediately hugs you*
Reader: yey :)
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kimjun · 21 hours
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YN: I know you want to keep me safe, but... the only way to do that is to wrap me in bubble wrap and hide me in a cave.
Jason: Believe me, I've thought about it.
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more-than-ideas · 3 days
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Sunday reading
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moodymisty · 3 days
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I seen Gillamen and Vulkan with their pregnant so but what about other Primarch?
Like Lion El Johnson, Corvus, and Horus around their pregnant partner who is near time to give birth to their child?
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[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]
Author’s note: I saw Corvus, I write Corvus. It's kind of short but I hope you like it.
Relationships: Corvus Corax/Fem!Reader
Warnings: Tokophobia, pregnancy, Not much else really
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Corvus was far from pleased about being so far from Deliverance. Terra was a planet that didn’t bring him much joy or fondness, beyond it being the heart of the Imperium, and the place of his creation.
But he grits his teeth and bears it, because he has to.
He has to for you. You’re heavily pregnant now, and the growth rate and pain of carrying the child of a primarch has begun to take its toll. Beyond what Deliverance can assist you with. Terra has the best that is available, and so he bears it.
He doesn’t have to carry around a being you weren’t meant to carry, so he does it in silence.
“I would’ve done the same, if I was in your position.”
Sanguinus’ face has softened expression slightly after Corvus’ surprise declaration. He had vaguely known he had someone at Corvus' side, but the idea of them actually being able to have biological children was much more of a surprise.
Food for thought, Sanguinus kept to himself.
“Baal is my home, but I can’t deny that what Terra has created far outweighs what my smaller planet could provide. I don’t blame you for bringing her here.” Corvus doesn’t find much usefulness in the statement, but he somewhat appreciates the attempt at sympathy. His hands shift on the massive ornate railing that overlooks more of the palace.
Corvus nods at him, but it doesn't take a keen eye to notice that he isn't much in the mood for more conversation. Sanguinius decides to keep it brief and let him return to his ailing beloved.
“Tell her I say hello and I wish her good health, yes?" The angel clears his throat in an attempt not to laugh. "But avoid telling Guilliman about this until he's in a better mood, he’ll pop a vein in his forehead.” Corvus rolls his eyes not at Sanguinus himself, but the fact that what he said isn’t out of the realm of reality. He leans up off the railing, and nods to the other primarch.
“I will.”
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Corvus with a slow gait enters the room, only to see you standing and reaching your hands towards the massive, vaulted ceiling.
“You should be in bed.” He says, and you sigh. Not even a moment before he's already reprimanding you.
“I know. I just wanted to stretch a bit.”
Corvus turns his gaze from you and to the bed, where your raven, caws softly and hops around on the blankets; Eagerly awaiting your return to it. As he gifted the bird to you young, it’s more of a pet than anything. It has served it's purpose as being your gift, his way of asking for you at his side. If you want it to just be a companion, then that's your prerogative.
You slip back into bed moments later, and Corvus comes to your side. The raven knows to behave better around him, and decides to plop itself close to your hip and fluff it's feathers with a contented warble.
“How are they?” He asks, though from experience you know he’s referring to you as well as your child.
“The same. I think they’re asleep now, I haven’t felt them move.” Corvus puts a hand to your belly, and indeed doesn’t feel anything until you move, and the baby kicks his palm. He catches your wince. he doesn't say anything, though you end up doing it for him.
“Corvus,” You say, looking at him. “I’ve never felt this bad in my entire life. I still have a bit left, I don’t know if I can keep up at this rate.” He sighs.
“I know.” He looks away from you for a moment, though his hand still stays firmly on your stomach.
Perhaps this is the punishment he gets for daring to be selfish, he thinks to himself. To see the one person he loves in pain because of him. Though he thinks of a recent happening and softens expression a bit, and you call him on it, a curious smile on your face.
“What?”
Your raven picks at your hair in an attempt for your attention, and you scratch his wing before he hobbles away.
“My men have asked about you, since we left Deliverance. They seemed worried you were close to death.” The ones who stayed back haven't been updated on anything since he's left, and while there are many Raven Guard on Terra, it's much harder to communicate with his men that are now so far away. You laugh, rolling to your side and facing him to take the pressure of your back.
“Well, I feel like it.” Corvus, his hand still on your belly the entire time, leans in and kisses your forehead. He wonders how you can be so morbid yet cheerful at the same time.
“Rest some more. Then I might have you speak to my sons so they know you’re still in good health.”
They’ve become more attached to you as time has gone by, and while some hesitate to trust or welcome you, many have begun to open up and allow you in. Perhaps they've realized that you offer more than you impede; Or they've simply acquiesced to Corvus' desperate desire to feel human.
You grip Corvus’ larger hand softly, squeezing his fingers before speaking.
“Let me at least eat first. I’m starving.” Another curious aspect about this whole thing; Your hunger is near never ending. Corvus dares to crack the slightest smile.
“Fine. I’ll have the serfs bring you something.”
He sees your satisfied smile, and leans in once more to gently kiss your lips. Once he pulls away he gives your raven a scratch on the head, before leaving.
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imagine-darksiders · 3 days
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youtube
Darksiders fanart request + The time I got punched because I let it go too hard.
Request from Krosshair-mk3bu
'Y/N getting the chills (but by what or whom is the question) and being simultaneously offered cloaks from both Death and Draven that’s got them in a Kill Bill sequence ^~^'
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effect-weight · 6 hours
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https://kathryn-863.ludgu.top/m/WH6bEx8
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month-wish-health · 2 days
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miepstheguineapig · 3 days
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Did you know I love to read? 📚
Not only do I love to use books in my photography, but I also love to read them! Of course I'm not using my ''good books'' for the photoshoots as the piggies love to destroy stuff. I mostly read fantasy and romance books.
Here is a cute stack of rainbow books and the lovely Lies. ❤🥹
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heyidkyay · 17 hours
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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |
Part Twenty-Three
Matty Healy x reader
Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.
What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 
Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!
Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx
Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)
> Last update: look back here if you'd like!
Masterlist
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“I said no.”
Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.
“Give me a reason at least?"
I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?
“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.
“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.
I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”
Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.
“One thing after another with you.”
My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”
The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”
I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it. 
“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.
“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”
I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.
Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.
“Stop.”
“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.
I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”
With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”
I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”
To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep. 
Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.
“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”
“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”
Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.
“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”
My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.
The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.
He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.
I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me. 
Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand. 
But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.
Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.
“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.
“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.
“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”
Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.
Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.
When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.
“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”
I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky. 
“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs. 
“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.
Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”
I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-
“Anyone here?”
I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.
George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”
Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.
“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”
“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”
I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”
Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”
I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done. 
Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”
Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.
“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”
It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.
Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.
See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.
Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard. 
George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more. 
Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.
He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.
I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon. 
The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.
I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.
I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated. 
“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”
George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”
Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”
I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.
Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”
I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”
He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.” 
I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”
Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”
I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.
He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”
I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.
During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.
George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.
“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about. 
He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it. 
“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.
Or maybe I was just kidding myself.
“Sorry.”
George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”
He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.
“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile. 
“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.
I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.
“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."
I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.
Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.
I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.
“What?”
George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.
“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me. 
Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”
My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”
We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.
“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.
I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”
That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”
George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”
He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.
His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”
I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.
The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.
I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.
You had me from the start  Pulling all the stops out  On the down low, secretly  But I think you knew your psychology  Was working on me  Infatuated  And doing this all wrong  You've got  My number and my name  And you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going  Can I see you every day?  Do you love me  Like I love you?  Ah, you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going
(Song: Ride - Future Love)
It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me. 
I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.
His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.
A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.
Not even a second later my phone was in my hand. 
Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me? 
Matty had always had a thing for Sundays. 
There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick. 
No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him. 
There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.
Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.
It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.
Jamie had somehow managed it.
Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.
But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.
It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings. 
He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.
There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.
He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.
Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.
Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.
The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”
Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.
This was it, he supposed.
The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.
He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.
The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.
If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal. 
He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.
It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.
She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.
Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.
The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.
“You can just hang your-”
“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway. 
It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.
“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”
He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him. 
Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”
God, it was so fucking strained.
He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.
“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.
“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”
Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”
She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before. 
But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.
Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv. 
There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.
She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which. 
He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.
He found himself smiling at the thought.
It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.
“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down. 
Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.
“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.
She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”
Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”
She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”
Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.
The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.
“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.” 
Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.
She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”
“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.
“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”
Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”
Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.
“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...” 
He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks. 
She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?” 
“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.
“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”
That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.
Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind. 
“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”
Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.
Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”
Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.
“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.” 
He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”
He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.
“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”
Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.
“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”
“Said what?”
Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”
Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.
Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”
Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.
“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.
“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”
She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.
“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”
Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.
“Then what?”
Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”
Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.
He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.
It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”
Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.
“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.
“I know.” He answered.
“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.
“I know.”
He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest. 
"Why didn't you tell me?"
“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.
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nesting-dreams · 1 day
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Realistic depiction of how useful the boys would be in every universe when someone is on period worst to best case scenario
Say a s/o came on their period late at night and all the stores are closed at 2 am. If s/o or April happen to run out of pads and pain killers. Cuz you sometimes do lose track of it.
2016: knows nothing and is useless even after they get a s/o cuz they’d all not steal for their s/o. Raphael may attempt too, but he’d be unsuccessful. Would leave s/o be cuz that’s all you can do.
1987: Doesn’t know anything and is useless cuz April is more like a co worker and she wouldn’t feel comfortable telling them stuff. They won’t learn the basic stuff until one of them actually gets a girlfriend. Donatellos the only one willing to steal you things for your period while the others don’t. All the boys are very understanding, Raph might test you with his sarcasm though but he’ll shut up if you glare at him. Donatello makes sure he knows which pad type to get and strength of painkillers.
2012: Doesn’t know anything until April. She is their friend and will tell them half the details. Donatello and Raphael would totally be down to stealing for her. They steal the basics like pain killers and pads. Very understanding. None of them joke, but feel super awkward first time. Raphael will soften up for his s/o if they’re having serious stomach pain. They get every kind of pad and pain killers and stash it for future emergency. Leo gives you tea.
2003: Only knows the basics from their April cuz she’s more like an aunt. Will steal stuff from stores without hesitation for her. They have stolen bishops icecream for petty reasons. They’d totally steal for Aprils well being and comfort. Once they get a s/o they’d pamper them for sure when the stomach aches come and the wanting to kill yet be affectionate feeling and cry for no reason comes up. They actually ask what a girl needs specifically and gets that. Mikey would get the chocolates and pizza cuz that’s what he likes to be cheered up by. Leo gives you tea
Mutant mayhem: only knows basic from April cuz friends. Would steal you basic pain killers and make sure to get you the right pads too. I expect Leo and Mikey would get you snacks as a treat.
Rise: knows April since age 10 and they probably saw her going through her first period. She is like a sister so they are going to learn all the details much to their horror. They probably need like a day to process it first time cuz tween girls are blunt. Would steal everything from the convenience store for her. Like even stuff she doesn’t need. Best case scenario. They’d be even better for s/o cuz they’ve had practice with April for years and now they know what they are doing. Donnie probably is trying to figure out a way to make the pain less painful but be careful if he experiments on you. Might go wrong. If your periods are heavy, even though it grosses him out, He will research proper nutrition to help you with the period. Leonardo would actually do the same when he stops testing your patience with jokes and he starts worrying about how the period is affecting you badly. He doesn’t sleep for you in researching and then he steals the proper nutritions and tablets and vitamins for you. Mikey and Raphael are just here to be good boys who cuddle and give you teddies and pizza. Leo gives you tea from his own personal stash that he wouldn’t give his brothers usually, he hates seeing you like this so he gives.
All would be low-key scared cuz of the wanting to maim someone feeling s/o has. All would think April is dying the first time they might see blood.
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iminkandpaper · 21 hours
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Sorry I gotta go my boyfriend (fanfiction) is waiting in bed (phone) naked (hurt/comfort)
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delicrieux · 1 day
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𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫, 7. year one: up to mid october, 1972
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pairing for this chapter—f!lestrange!reader x sirius black warnings for this chapter—sum swear & sirius being a prat word count—2.5k
a short awaited confrontation and a new friend.
masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | ttp masterlist | < back | next >
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over the course of the month, it seems that the sight of you has become repulsive to sirius. he could not bear to look at you for more than it took to notice you in the crowd or to recognize your voice echoing before the body belonging to it reached him. he’d flee, usually, and refrain, in a completely un-sirius fashion, from making a gigantic scene. this would have been odd to you if only the pain of seeing his hastily retreating back wasn’t too much.
don’t be so harsh with me please, you’d want to tell him, i’ve done nothing but love you.
instead, “what. is. with. you,” and each word punctuated with an angry smack to his forearm. he glares, and he wiggles out the way of your unrelenting pursuit to beat him into submission. his friends watch frozen, stuck somewhere between amusement and desire to pull sirius back into the safe confines of the gryffindor tower. you will not allow them. not this time, at least, “you stuck up, insufferable—“
“piss off,” he nurses his bruises, though you aren’t strong enough to leave any.
you falter in your step, but the anger doesn’t die. he must know how his look wounds. he must. “piss off?” you parrot, and it rings much smaller and fainter than his had, “piss off? that’s all i get from you?”
“expect something different?” he bites, and bites, and bites, and he maims and mars until there is a thread between your hands and his heart thin as ivory wire. his eyes appraise and they dance and they hate, “why don’t you run back to your regulus.”
ah. there it is. the venom.
“sirius-“ james starts, and both of your glares cut him into two.
“shut up,” the both of you, again, together. you mirror his dark look and try to decide which words of the infinite welling quickly are most fitting. they sink with and through you; an anger and a hurt not meant to be felt by someone so inexperienced. when you and sirius argue, it is never as dire, even if it feels like it was. sirius never starts rows he cannot win, even if it’s him that loses most in the end, “family matter.”
james looks as though he’d rather be anywhere else but in the windy courtyard, shadowed by the cold arches of a loggia. peter, cheeks and ears burning, nervously rubs his hands together to dispel the cold. remus, already, is further ways down and watching, waiting for the rest to catch up. you won’t let them, not yet, not till you say your piece and abandon first, because father said the last word is always the winner.
you speak in french because you know he hates to hear it, because it reminds of home and you know he can’t stand home like he can’t stand you now, and it will hurt him, and it will make you happy, “regulus was right about you. you’ve become unthinkably cruel.”
he curls his lip, and it is with so much spite that it makes your teeth ache. his body rolls into itself, ready to explode and spit up his scorn all over your face. the insult must teeter on his tongue. you're more than ready for it. but something cracks and something flips and he reels back a bit, a show of restraint you thought him absent of.
"yeah, regulus, regulus always knows best, doesn't he?" your french mimicked in his mouth is dense, like syrup, "regulus, darling, regulus," a sneer that draws his lip to the high planes of his cheekbones, and a head tilting movement that is patronizing and obscene. it reminds you of his mother, "your regulus, isn't he the fucking best."
"he's not mine," you state tartly.
"hard to believe when he follows after you like a dog," he bites, and bites, and bites, but even through the layers upon layers, the soreness permeates and leaves you stricken into a stupor that only sirius can create, "listens and does everything you say. can't he think for himself. attached to your shoulder like some blithering pest."
you blink back the anger in your eyes. you are not going to cry, you tell yourself. if you do, then he will win, but he always does.
the boys stare at you. you don't know what to say. the feeling of it is tight and burns like an ulcer, "what has gotten into you? why do you hate me? i haven't-" your lips work through their turmoil, "-i haven't done anything to you."
he waves you off, dismissive. his hands tremble with some unspoken rage. "stop bothering me and go back to regulus. he's probably already looking for you."
the end of the conversation hangs heavily between you. sirius sniffs, and turns away in that blasé manner he always has with him, as if all life were a joke. his posture is too stiff and his features are too cold and he joins remus first as james and peter linger. you shake.
"i, uhm," james begins, but your glare silences him again. slowly, carefully, he nudges peter, "c'mon."
they leave, but james looks back. you miss it, head hung in defeat. your emotions threaten to burst free and splinter all over the stone. you think, in a hurry, how could you ever cover them up – with your hands, your body? is it the aftermath already, where everything is too obvious for pretence?
when it rains, it pours. it always has and you suspect it always will.
*
naturally, you are inconsolable. what a great big joke. no broom closet nor dusty cavern of the castle is familiar enough to hide in, and you cloak, despite its expanse, can hardly protect from sore eyes. the loo it is, locked in some stall and hiccupping. marzipan had mentioned finding a hufflepuff crying not a week in. she thought it amusing, and you did, too – who could ever abate decency and sob in the loo? what a terrible ploy for attention, had the girl expected consolation? no such could ever be found in marzipan, why, she said, and she said it proudly, she laughed quite loud and the crying stopped.
you would die on the spot if someone found you. it would feel like uncovering a horrible secret, being exposed in such a way. aren’t you a grown up? your birthday is soon, on a cold october night. grownups always breathe fine – besides your ditzy aunts – but you find there not being enough air. so much space and so little of it.
you fan yourself, and you heave, and in a tantrum you tussle out your cloak and throw it onto the gleaming white tiles.  your cheeks burn and there’s an ache in the apex of your head. crying like this, over a boy, no less? sirius, of all? rabastan would point and laugh, point and laugh, point and laugh.
there’s a knock on your stall’s door and you nearly topple over in a scurry to silence yourself.
“hi, sorry,” the voice is unfamiliar, but it sounds kind, “are you alright?”
perfect, not only have you embarrassed yourself, you’ve aroused the suspicion of an idiot. there’s a gentle creak on the wood, as if a weight has settled. an ear, perhaps, pressed onto the surface, but for what?
you will your shaky hands to settle by your stomach. the fingers pinch and pool on the woollen fabric of your sweater. you gulp, but it gets stuck, and the silence stretches, so still.
“i-yes,” you manage. this won’t do, the tears cling to your mouth, “i’m, i'm okay.”
“do you need some water?”
if you weren’t so distraught, you’d delight at the curtsy. stupidity must be contagious because you shake your head.
“no, no,” you say after a pause.
“a tissue perhaps?”
“i'm fine,” seems you have managed to locate your wits. from some hellish depths, no doubt. swiftly, you retrieve your cloak, “thank you.”
“’s no worries,” the voice pipes. it belongs to a girl, you think, who doesn't budge, and, instead, waits. it seems your dramatics have riled someone. even the staff would scold your sorry condition, all snot and tears and shaking limbs – quite undignified, "can you tell me why you're crying?"
oh, merlin, how wonderful, the prodding and the poking and the horrible sympathy. are you so pitiable? perhaps. in this state. it's still hard to believe a complete stranger has found themselves so comfortable, "if i say i'm not crying will you go?"
the girl laughs, light and tittering. for a moment, it startles you, too, "not very likely."
the air remains stagnant, as if it's thick and spinning. the echoes of your sniffles bounce along the walls. you could tell her to piss off. you've heard it enough in the span of the last hour.
"i had a fight with my friend," you say eventually, "i think he hates me."
"did you do something to make him hate you?"
your forehead grazes the stall door. it leaves a cold spot and it makes you wince, "no."
"hmm," there is a sound of shuffling and more creaking, "well, then i wouldn't be very worried. he sounds like a dick, and what you need friends like that for?"
a great deal, actually. what did you think you were doing these years, clinging to his arm and curling into his bed when it rains? "what am i supposed to do?"
"beat him up, i imagine, and sort his sorry arse out."
you snort, though not very amused, "tried that."
"good start," you imagine her nodding and crossing her arms, "now, if i were you, i'd hex him into tomorrow and we'll never hear from him again."
"sounds wicked," you lament. the thought has crossed your mind, but revenge crumbles into some mushy, pitiful mess if you think on it too long.
"positively evil," she agrees. the silence returns, but it's comfortable, "i’ve got parchment in case you wanna practice curses."
a corner of your mouth quirks. your chest aches, but it's no longer full and painful, "that's alright, thank you."
"always wanted to be an accomplice," you hear the smile in her voice, "no trouble at all."
a final stretch of quiet. it allows you to breathe, really breathe, and pull yourself into order, as it were. it's no pretty sight, the state of you, but it no longer compares to how you first came in, a crying mess. when you open the stall, and face the girl for the first time, a kind face greets you. her brown skin is flush, hair twisted into two plaited horns that are gathered into a half bun, the rest pinned around her head. your nose twitches, itchy.
she grins, "there you are. no longer crying."
the cold from the running faucet burns against your cheeks. the face that peers back at you from the mirror is dishevelled. red-rimmed eyes and wet splotches all over. you grimace, "look like a sordid mess."
"well, yes, but, like a normal sordid mess. like, almost pretty normal," she stands behind. a red lion's emblem is embroidered into her uniform. she tilts her head, "like, i look way worse when i do it. at least you cry prettily."
"oh, you think so?" you turn to her, "no one's ever said that."
her nose wrinkles, but the mirth isn't gone from her eyes, "well, don't suppose you make a habit of sobbing in front of others. lest you wouldn't have barricaded yourself in the stall."
you hum, "quite the excellent point."
she flashes her teeth and nods proudly, "of course, got many," there's a slight silence where she appraises you, "you're lestrange, right? i've seen you in my classes," she asks as though she knows, and extends her hand for you to shake, "i'm dorcas. meadowes. gryffindor.”
“slytherin,” you respond, but shake her hand anyway.
“can tell,” dorcas says, that same lilt of a smile on her lips, “you wear it with pride.”
yes, of course, because that is what lestrange do. her family name is unrecognizable, but you don't think to wonder on it much further. her eyes are friendly and warm, and she takes to fixing the wayward strands of your hair while you dab a bit of tissue paper to your nose. a few seconds go by, and she glances at you from under the hair fallen onto her forehead, "i still have parchment, and we could still get you those curses down."
"haven't the ink to draw any, unfortunately," you reply.
"hm. next time then," dorcas decides for herself, and makes for the door, "think a walk to the kitchens might be in order?" she leaves her invitation open-ended, her gaze expectant, "could use a warm cinnamon bun."
you wonder about her, dorcas meadowes, with the shiny dark eyes and plaits and how well she talks to strange girls who cry in bathroom stalls. "alright," you accept, the smile on your face not as strained, nor sad, nor angry, "lead the way."
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crisiscutie · 1 day
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Sorry for not clarifying! The darling's yandere son. Thank you! 😊
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Okay! Looks like Mother Darling has quite the challenge!
Content Warning: DDDNE. Yandere Sephiroth. Mommy Kink. Curvy Darling. Dubcon.
Yandere Son Sephiroth musings here.
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༻❁༺ Your son's clinginess hadn't gone unnoticed by you, especially since you two are planning on leaving Mideel soon. You planned to take him to AVALANCHE HQ.
༻❁༺ Through, it could've just been him wanting to make up for the lost time. But no matter, it's best for him to start building a life of his own.
༻❁༺ It was good that you two lived separately, at least, but he still visited you constantly.
༻❁༺ It was so difficult to pull away from your sweet boy every time he hugged you or tried to cling to you, or even when you told him no. You felt his hurt and disappointment, especially in his kitten eyes. Despite this, never stopped showering you with affection.
༻❁༺ Sephiroth himself felt his heart breaking. He didn't want to think that you were rejecting him, but it felt that way. He dropped everything from his past life. He had nothing left but you. The mere thought of the last thing he had abandoning him was unbearable.
༻❁༺ To address his clinginess, you introduced the idea of him finding a special woman to fall in love with.
༻❁༺ He clearly wasn't interested in such a prospect, even when you tried to nudge him toward certain women who appear reserved and respectful (not fangirls) in town.
༻❁༺ ...Perhaps it wasn't helpful when you embarrassed yourself and him at the town market, loudly asking what he thought of the cute, shy cashier that rang up your groceries.
༻❁༺ Despite the attention from everyone else, Sephiroth wasn't fazed. He just had no interest in the woman or anyone else. While he looked bored, you blushed and covered your mouth as you two walked away.
༻❁༺ As you were giving up on that idea, something surprising happened later on. He asked you for more advice about it!
༻❁༺ You gladly shared your thoughts/expertise on how to impress a lady, using yourself as the lady and him as the man as examples.
༻❁༺ You even taught him how to tango, and he seemed to really enjoy it. Throughout the final week at Mideel, he asked you more and more for advice, which you happily gave him.
༻❁༺ Sephiroth planned to wait on using the same advice you gave him and revealing his epiphany to you. But when he secretly watched you bid subtle farewells to your friends, the orphans, and everyone else in Mideel, dark emotions raged like a storm inside him.
༻❁༺ He came to your house later, with a gentle smile on his face as he watched you destroy some useless files you didn't need.
༻❁༺ He couldn't help but felt his hard cook straining against his pants as he noticed the sweet white dress you were wearing. The dress accentuated your squishable tummy, which had a subtle jiggle as you moved.
༻❁༺ He hugged you tightly, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Mother, are we ready to leave tomorrow?"
༻❁༺ You nodded at him, kissed him on the cheek, and kept destroying the files. He laid his head on your shoulder, almost kissing your neck. That is, until his slit eyes glimpsed a file that mentioned the JENOVA project, prompting him to swiftly take it from your hands.
༻❁༺ You stared at him worryingly, knowing that the file itself contained little information. The project was unfamiliar to you, as you were forced into it as a guinea pig. Your memories of it were hazy too. You couldn't even tell your son who his father was.
༻❁༺ You were ready for Sephiroth's interrogation, but he surprisingly set the file aside without uttering a single word about it.
༻❁༺ "Mother," he whispered into your ear, his voice dripped with honey. "I had an epiphany..." He traced circles on your palm while using his other hand to massage your back.
༻❁༺ You stayed in place. A part of you yelled at yourself to move away from him like you've been doing lately, but you didn't. It... felt good.
༻❁༺ "That special woman you told me to find... I think it's you," he whispered, his hands caressed your curves and then squished your tummy. He loved the way your body felt. It's like a stress ball filled with motherly love. It was one of the many reasons he needed to hold you so tightly.
༻❁༺ He focused his attention on your thick thighs, giving them a few squishes too. But those are just the appetizers... The main course he wanted? Your cunt.
༻❁༺ He was so eager, he knelt down and turned your body around, almost ripping your lace panties to get access. He watched your erected clit tremble, giving it a brief lick while his fingers toyed with your juicy labia.
༻❁༺ He then used both hands to spread your meaty cunt, stretching it wide. With his slit eyes beaming in amazement, he found himself lost in a euphoric trance.
༻❁༺ It's a moment of pure wonder as he stared at the lovely orifice that birthed him. He gave your clit a brief kiss before forcing two fingers into your wetness.
༻❁༺ He forced his fingers deeper into your needy cunt, wanting to explore more and feel more of your juices trickle into his hand. Everything he's doing... It has felt incredibly right for both you and him, even though it was undeniably wrong.
༻❁༺ "Does it feel good, Mother?" he whispered. His warm breath grazed your gushing cunt while you unraveled before him. He wanted you to say it. If necessary, he'd rip those words out of you.
༻❁༺ Your walls gripped his fingers tightly as he scissored you. His mind happily deliberated over what he'll do to your cunt next. Fuck it savagely? Keep worshipping its holiness?
༻❁༺ Thankfully, some self-control came back to you in the last moments as you removed yourself from his fingers, holding yourself back from climaxing in front of him.
༻❁༺"I-I... I need a moment," you stammered, quickly making your way to your bedroom.
༻❁༺ He stood there, staring at your juices on his fingers while a wicked smirk played on his lips. When he looked up, his pupils dilated at the sight of those same juices trickling down your pillowy thighs as you closed your bedroom door.
༻❁༺ Oh, how much he wanted to kick your door down and fuck you into your bed... But he managed to restrain himself, unleashing a chilling chuckle afterwards.
༻❁༺ The next day, the two of you left Mideel for good. You and Sephiroth pretended as if nothing happened the day before, though the obvious tension still lingered.
༻❁༺ He doesn't understand why you wanted to deny the obvious love between the two of you, but that's okay now. Along with seeking vengeance on Shinra, he'd make you accept his love, no matter what. He will start by figuring out who or what this JENOVA is…
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Well well, she's in for a fun time. 👀
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stillxnunpxidintern · 18 hours
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Thatch: WHO ATE MY BREAD?! Thatch: I'M GOING TO FUCKING K- Reader: I did? Thatch: Kiss you and make some more, you haven't been eating anything today Reader Thatch: *Walks away* Reader: ... Reader: They're gone Ace Ace, coming out the closet with bread stuffed in his month: Twankh uh! 
(Some crack in the form of incorrect quotes. Thatch should know better than to leave food unguarded and Reader coming to Ace's rescue)
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chasslescoolarts · 1 day
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Some silly basic y/n vs reader from creative creation (a fanfic by me :3)
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joshfutturman · 2 days
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ੈ♡˳ clapton davis character.ai bot
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finally i made a clapton bot! he's pretty cute but still new so bear with him if he's a bit slow at the minute lmao, let me know if you guys have fun with him! he's teaching you how to skateboard and you guys have been friends since childhood! opening below:
'It was a miracle that Clapton Davis graduated Grizzy Lake high school with the state of his GPA, but in the end, he was just glad he got to graduate alongside you; his best friend since childhood.
It was the summer after graduation, the sun was high in the sky with a few white fluffy clouds passing by. The smell of freshly cut grass surrounded you both. Clapton holds your waist as you both stand on his skateboard, he pushes every so often to keep the momentum as you cruise along the street at his pace.
In his jean pocket sat his blue iPod shuffle, one earphone in your ear and one in his as 'Every Little Thing She Does is Magic' plays by 'The Police'. His touch on you is gentle, he doesn't want you to fall, enjoying this time with you.
Clapton glances at you, unable to hide the small grin curling on his lips. "So, are you gonna let me teach you now or what?" He chirps in your ear behind you, having offered to teach you how to ride his skateboard this summer. "You don't need to be nervous, Clapton is the master of skateboards."'
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