#musicallisto

[pierregazly]

may I also request a ⚓️? i'm french-spanish (so I speak both fluently), and an aeronautical engineering student in college. i'm energetic, humorous, and always ready to go on an adventure and try new things! big dog person, extroverted, huge fan of anything adrenaline (rollercoasters, horror movies... I used to dream of being a pilot!) but I also have a much softer side - i've been playing the piano and writing for roughly fifteen years and they're my sweet escape. i look tough and bubbly and unshakeably optimistic but im actually a big anxious softie at heart and i love people unconditionally<3 i play rugby, do cheer, and surf! the ocean is The most therapeutical place in the world for me also :) oh and i'm a libra! thank you very much <3

⚓️ give me a small description of yourself/your hobbies/your zodiac signs/life and i’ll ship you with a driver

omg heck yes you can!! i'm in the midst of working on the moodboard as well 🫶🏻

okay so, i've been contemplating this for a few minutes and i can't actually place it down to just one specific driver. so i'm going to ship you with two! im so sorry im so indecisive sometimes lol

first, i do think you would mesh very well with carlos sainz. although, your zodiac signs aren't the most compatible, i do think he would really adore your extroverted, adventurous personality; and he would admire your passion and intelligence - always encouraging you to push harder and achieve what you've set out to. i also really think he would be beneficial for times when you're anxious or feeling soft and just need a lil extra loving, he'd be more than happy to sit around and listen to you play piano or learn how to surf for you (also carlos + a dog lover is a thing).

second, i actually think oscar piastri would be a very great option too. he would absolutely love how intelligent you are, likely be completely in awe whenever you talk about your courses and what you're currently learning. while oscar isn't the most extroverted person, he is incredibly adventurous and would probably even take you out of your comfort zone a bit and encourage you to push past any anxiety that may be bubbling up. he would for sure be at any event of yours as well, whether it's rugby, cheer, or paddling along beside you on a surfboard (aries being oscar's zodiac sign means you guys would for sure balance each other out really well, also!)

thanks for celebrating with me!! 🤭

#ugh i really do love shipping #it was my big thing back in my 1d tumblr days lmao #anyways thank you for celebrating w/ me 🫶🏻 #hope you love your ships!!! #musicallisto #pierregazly's 1.5k celebration #f1 ships #ships

[deadlymodern]

hi Thaís! i hope you're doing great! i just wanted to drop by and tell you that every now and then I think about your story and how I loved it so much. it fundamentally changed the way I play the sims, on a prosaic level, but also how I approach storytelling & character development, so not only is it my favorite sims story i've ever read, it's also a huge inspiration! also your visuals were all absolutely mesmerizing and I find myself scrolling through the 'outtakes' tag every once in a while and missing mary & beth. anyway, i hope that your life is going amazingly! 💜

Oh Clara 🥺🥺🥺

I'm sorry, I don't know if you've sent me this today or a while ago - I'm rarely on tumblr these days. But this message touched me more than you could know.

My sims story was such an important part of my life during the peak of the pandemic. It was a coping mechanism and (to this day) one of my favourite creative outlets. So, to know you've felt this much towards it is like a massive warm embrace. Not to be corny af but jgkldfjgkl. I hope you know what I mean. I miss Beth and Mary as if they were real, so it makes me soft knowing that you miss them too!

My life is going really well 😌 I'm engaged and in the middle of working on a visa application. So life is a bit chaotic atm haha. I'd aboslutely love to make sims stories like I used to back in 2020, but with life back to it's "normal routine", I can't see it happening any time soon... I've been flirting with the idea of novel writing though. Maybe one day. You'll know if I ever commit to it, especially since I've always admired your writing! 🥰

Thank you again for the wonderful message. You're very dear to me 🥺❤️ x

#thaistalks #musicallisto #nonsims #🥰

[glittertrail]

to me you're the fashion mutual!! you always reblog such pretty clothes <3 and the pink mutual too 🩷

Clara that's so sweet 🥺 ty <3 also I love that pink is part of my brand bc it is my favorite color but i never wear it agdjdbdkdb

What mutual am I to you

#replies #musicallisto

[oscar-piastri]

very random but last week I was taking my engineering exams (le concours centrale, tu connais peut être ?) and one of the exams was on the formula 1 grand prix, like calculating the cars' speeds in the turns and stuff, I know close to nothing about F1 but I immediately thought of you and how you would've enjoyed it lol, anyway hope you have a great day! :)

(Oooh j’en ai entendu parlé!)

🥺🥺🥺 omg this is so adorable akzbskzj thank u ❤️❤️

have a great evening <3

#musicallisto #cassy’s answers

[thenighttrain]

happy birthday!! 💜💜

thank you 💞💗

#ask #musicallisto #23

[endlessly-cursed]

so you obviously know whaat I look like, but I'm very curious about the picrew thing for the edwardian or WW1 era? if you don't mind 👀

Clara que coño haces aqui LSBDLDNDKDND ni pregunto 💀 iba a hacer el juego en el main pero weno 🤣

This is Edwardian you!! With your unrly hair as neatly as you can make it neat, with jewelry showing off that you descend of material gworls 💅🏻 and the background is your drawing room where men call on you. You also have a neat and simple make-up and pink lips. I'm very angry I cannot give you a colossal Edwardian hat, it's the best part of the outfit 😭 I'mma complain to k-pupu. And ofc blue as the ✨French flag colour✨

#asks #mutuals #other profile's mutuals #musicallisto

[chanselysees]

@ artemissilvcr ➭ @chanselysees

tagging the mutuals: @eclliipsed @hotgirlsrk @its-me-satine @johnskeating @permanentreverie @destourtereaux @margofiore @glittertrail @daydreaming-optimist @softeninglooks @ladyvesuvia @hozierswift @ledzeppelinss @noesapphic @retvenkos @amirahiddleston @oceanspray5 @heliads

#artemis u will be back i promise... i just think this url is my birthright #fandom/spam blog i follow from main/writing blog @musicallisto #header c. seegoldendaylight #♡

[choicesfandomappreciation]

I really like @embarrassingsmartphonegame her blog n the work she has written. Love her blog icon too. I really miss her n hopefully she is alright n will return back soon. Miss her. So worried bout her n hopefully she is alright. Does anyone knows her? Will she return back? Miss her n very worried 😢 I rlly like her. Very friendly person she is. Miss her. Plz tell via comment if u know anything bout her. Thx 😀

And i wanna thank @mynotsohealthyobsession / @godsavethekeen cuz she is so friendly. I like her so much. She loves to help and likes to take requests no matter what. She writes so good. Can't wait for the next fics n WIPS 😀

@hopelessromantic1352 is adorable. Keep the work up. hopefully i will see more fics soon. Also excited for the fics n WIPs. Can't wait for more Thomas Hunt n Nik 😀

@nazario-sayeed miss you, girl. Hopefully you will be more often here. Love your blog and fics too. Sssssh, did u know BOLAS is coming out this September 2023. Not only that, have u heard bout the game sequel projects. Just informing you 😀

@itsbrindleybinch miss you n your blog, girlie. I still read y fanfics cuz they make my day. You fic writers might not be active anymore but y have no idea what you did. Spreading love. Always be remembered 😀

@musicallisto i know u left choices but do not worry. Still like you n y fics. Stay safe!! Still love your blog and you, mon amie. Take care n good luck for y studies. Btw looooooove y new blog theme, where do y get these splendid ideas??!! Aaaand that cool fandom family idea, wow!!!

Missing the great @clansayeed too. So talented in writing, editing and... just wow. Miss ya hopefully y are alright. Remember y are loved. Love y oblv bound. Forever.

@blackcatkita i like y too n seeing y happy and yo blog makes my rainy days all sunshine sunshine sunshine sunny again. An is RC good? Well, wishin you all a happy day. Hopefully yo r still here.

XOXO

@embarrassingsmartphonegame, @mynotsohealthyobsession / @godsavethekeen, @hopelessromantic1352, @hopelessromantic1352,@itsbrindleybinch, @musicallisto, @clansayeed , @blackcatkita

#@embarrassingsmartphonegame #@mynotsohealthyobsession / @godsavethekeen #@hopelessromantic1352 #@itsbrindleybinch #@musicallisto #@clansayeed #@blackcatkita

[goldsainz]

hello! congrats on 2k! could I request a 📸? thank you very much, your theme is absolutely gorgeous <3

#── my 2k celly #musicallisto.

[rubysunnday]

aching soul

requested by @musicallisto : hi lottie, congrats on 4k - that's INCREDIBLE! You deserve each and every one of those followers, your work is astounding. could I request an anthony bridgerton one-shot with prompt 1 + young and beautiful by lana del rey? I've been missing a little bit of romance lately. thank you sm if you do it! 💜

requested by anon: can i request an anthony bridgerton x reader fic where he thought he absolutely despises her without any clear reasons but it was actually him denying his feelings for the reader?

a/n: she's a long one, folks

summary: There is a difference between Viscount Bridgerton and Anthony Bridgerton. One is a Rake. The other is a man, broken by his father's death, who has never really been able to be just Anthony. Y/N knows the feeling all too well

"We pick in alphabetical order!"

"Which means I'm always going to be last!" Eloise whined, stamping her foot. "Why don't we do youngest to oldest?"

"Because then I'll be last!"

"Enough!" Daphne exclaimed, silencing Anthony. "Since we cannot agree, why don't we let our guest choose first? Miss Elliot?"

Y/N looked at Daphne expectantly. "I am slightly afraid that no matter what I choose I will be starting a war."

"No one will dare complain since you are our most esteemed guest," Daphne said, giving Eloise a pointed gaze. "Please, go ahead."

When the Bridgerton's had, collectively, mentioned a game of pall mall - whatever that was - Y/N was dubious. But at the evil glint in the eye of Lord Bridgerton at his younger brother, Y/N simply had to join in.

Anything to antagonise the viscount.

Y/N hardly knew the man but in the short time she had known him, he'd driven her mad. Perhaps some of Y/N's hatred towards the viscount was because of the assumptions she'd made of the man over the years.

A Capital R rake was never to be trusted. Besides, as she reached her fourth year out in society, Y/N was running out of time to find a husband. She didn't have time to run around flirting and playing with men who weren't ready to commit.

Or men who weren't looking for a love match. Lord Bridgerton.

Y/N stepped forward, looking at the mallets. They were all worn and looked tired after years of use and, presumably, abuse. Her eyes went directly to the black mallet - the only dark colour in the otherwise pastel set. She glanced at Lord Bridgerton and noticed how his gaze was fixed on the mallet.

So, she walked up and pulled it out of the box.

The shocked gasps from the rest of the family and the glare he gave her told Y/N she had, in fact, chosen well.

"Well, would you look at that, brother," Benedict said, grinning at Anthony.

Anthony's jaw was tense. "Shut up."

"Can the rest of us choose now?" Eloise asked, looking around.

No one moved. Then, Eloise darted forward and snatched up the yellow mallet, ignoring Colin's complaints. Benedict snatched the dark blue one whilst Daphne grabbed the purple one. Colin reluctantly took the orange one and, after glaring at it, Anthony took the pink one.

"To the field of combat!" Daphne exclaimed, holding her mallet up high as if it was a sword.

Y/N laughed and followed after them, keen to see the Bridgerton's in action. "I dare say, Your Grace," Y/N said, catching up with Daphne, "I am not entirely sure how to play this game."

"Well, firstly, please call me Daphne. Secondly, if you want my advice," Daphne said, walking alongside Y/N, down to the start of the course, "I'd focus on Eloise. She is so focused on trying to beat her brothers that she will forget we're here. Benedict's aim isn't the best, but he is good at hitting far. Colin is a cheeky player - he will sacrifice his own go to hit someone else's ball."

"And Lord Bridgerton?" Y/N asked, glancing over at Anthony.

"He is a fierce player who does not like to lose. This makes him the perfect target - all it takes is one whack of your ball against his and he will be off his game the rest of the match. He likes revenge."

"I gathered that," Y/N murmured, remembering how much Anthony wanted to murder Colin at the ball a few weeks back.

"I myself will not reveal any secrets," Daphne continued. "But I will say this - Bridgerton pall mall is more about sabotaging your opponent than it is getting the ball through the wickets."

Y/N nodded, smiling. "Understood."

The game started fairly calmly. It wasn't until they got to the sixth wicket did the chaos start. Colin aimed his ball at Eloise's and whacked it, knocking Eloise's ball wide and almost down the hill. Eloise gaped at her brother and nearly swung her mallet at him. Anthony stepped in, a hand on his sister's arm, as she was mid-swing.

Y/N didn't try anything too cheeky until two wickets later. Anthony's ball rolled into her path and Y/N seized her opportunity. She glanced over at Anthony, smirking slightly, as she readied her shot.

Anthony seemed to realise and gasped, turning to her. "Miss Elliot, don't you dare -"

Y/N whacked her ball at Anthony's, sending it flying down the hill and to the lake's edge. She laughed, swinging her mallet around in delight as Colin and Benedict chuckled evilly at their brother's misfortune.

"Excellent shot, Miss Elliot!" Benedict said, beaming. He patted Anthony on the back. "Well, I guess we shall see you later, brother. Daff, your turn."

Daphne strolled over to her ball. She crouched down, eyeing the ground and the wickets. As she stood up, Y/N caught the glint in her eye and knew, instantly, what she was about to do.

"No, Daphne, don't -"

Daphne smacked her ball into Y/N's, knocking it down the hill in the same direction Anthony's ball had gone moments before.

Anthony looked as if he wanted to hit his sister. Or strangle her, one of the two.

"Right, well then, we'll see you two in a bit then," Daphne said, turning around, holding her mallet in both hands, smiling happily.

Anthony clenched his jaw tightly. He gestured for Y/N to move first, barely making eye contact with her. Y/N held her head high and marched past him, heading down the hill.

She could see the lake at the bottom of the hill and had a sudden, sinking feeling that she was about to get wet.

"My brother and sister do love to antagonise me," Anthony muttered, walking down the hill at a brisk pace. "We lost the red ball to this lake a few years back."

"Who's fault was that?" Y/N asked, glancing at him.

Anthony turned and smirked slightly. "Mine."

They'd both stopped on the edge of the lake, searching for any sign of the pink and black balls.

"Oh, dash it," Anthony said, staring straight ahead.

"What?"

He leant closer to Y/N and pointed to the shallows of the lake where two balls sat, stuck in the wet sand.

"We could just move them," Y/N suggested. "No one will know."

"But I will," Anthony replied, raising his eyebrows.

Y/N scoffed, watching as Anthony walked down onto the bank of the lake, his boots instantly being covered in sand. After a moment, Y/N followed after him, skidding slightly on the wet sand. She reached out for the closest thing to her - which just happened to be Anthony's arm.

"Apologies, my Lord," Y/N said, quickly letting go of his arm.

"It's fine."

The two of them stood there and stared at the balls, debating how best to get to the balls.

"Right then," Y/N said, throwing her mallet up in the air slightly and then catching it again.

She took a step forward into the water, feeling it begin to seep through the soles of her satin shoes. Y/N tilted her mallet back and then swung forward, whacking her ball out of the lake and onto the grass bank.

Y/N smiled smugly at Anthony, gesturing for him to take his turn. Anthony stomped down to the river, his boots sinking into the sand, and stood next to her. He swung his mallet back and hit his ball, sending it onto the grass, next to the black ball.

Anthony turned to look at her and shook his head cockily - reminding Y/N slightly of a peacock.

Y/N went to take a step forward but found her feet were stuck in the sand, sinking each time she tried to move.

"I am stuck," she announced, looking at Anthony.

"Pardon?" Anthony asked, turning around to face her.

Y/N gestured to the floor. "My feet are stuck."

"Are you serious?"

"Believe me, Lord Bridgerton, if I didn't require your assistance I would not be asking for it."

Anthony sighed heavily and dropped his mallet onto the floor, marching back down onto the edge of the lake and taking Y/N's arm, standing behind her.

He pulled her as she managed to free her right foot. Y/N then went to put her right foot down on a slightly firmer piece of sand but it got tangled up in the long hem of her dress. With her left foot stuck in the sand still, Y/N flailed about, losing her balance entirely. She squeaked as she fell backwards, pulling Anthony with her.

Y/N landed on top of Anthony, flinching as the water began to seep through her clothes and onto her skin. For a moment, they both awkwardly laid there in the lake, Y/N on top of Anthony, Anthony with his arm still around Y/N's waist.

Anthony grunted in disgust, flicking his hand free of sand. He pushed Y/N upright and he sat up, looking around him. Anthony glanced at Y/N, who was struggling not to laugh, and glared.

"It is not funny!" He snapped.

"I am not laughing," Y/N said - although she clearly wanted to.

Y/N turned her head, looking at Anthony. He met her gaze and a smile instantly appeared as he giggled. Y/N found herself letting out a breathy laugh, ducking her head to avoid looking at Anthony.

"Well, at least we did not lose the balls to the lake this year," Anthony said, standing up. "Miss Elliot, I take it your feet are now free?"

Y/N chuckled. "Yes, Lord Bridgerton, they are."

Anthony held out a hand to her. Y/N reached up and gripped it, the water making it harder to grip. Anthony pulled her to her feet and Y/N quickly hopped onto the firmer sand.

A cheer errupted from somewhere up the hill and Anthony sighed wistfully.

"I bet you that Daff has won - again," Anthony muttered. He turned to Y/N. "Miss Elliot, I do apologise for our trip into the lake."

"It is fine, Lord Bridgerton," Y/N replied, holding the wet hem of her dress up as she climbed onto the grass bank.

Anthony followed her up. "I do hope this adventure has helped break the ice between us - I fear we got off on the wrong foot."

Y/N paused. "Part of that is my fault, I suspect," she admitted, bending down and picking up her ball. "I may have made some assumptions about you."

"Everyone does. Lady Whistledown does not help."

Y/N looked at him. "Are the rumours she writes not true, then?"

Anthony exhaled slowly. "No. No, some of them are true."

"Such as the one about you being a Rake with a capital R who is now conveniently looking for a wife?"

"You appear to have heard a lot of things," Anthony said, leaning on his mallet.

Y/N shrugged. "I have been out in society for four years, my Lord... I do know some things."

"Ah, so you are one of the young chits who fell for me when they made their debuts?"

"Young chits?" Y/N repeated, staring at him in disbelief. "It is hardly my fault I was forced to talk to you by my mama."

"Well, perhaps if you, along with the other young ladies in the ton, were more interesting and could hold a conversation, we would have gotten along better -"

"Do you realise how rude you sound?" Y/N snapped. "You just assume you know what I am like based on a conversation we had three years ago when I was a debutante who knew nothing better than what had been installed in her by society?"

Anthony faltered, clearly realising he'd overstepped. "Miss Elliot -"

"No, Lord Bridgerton, you have made your thoughts very clear. I thank you for your assistance - I am going to retire to my room now."

Anthony watched Y/N walk up the hill and back to the house, leaving him alone. He sighed, swearing quietly at his stupidity. Anthony bent down and picked up her mallet and ball, wishing he could go back a few minutes.

No matter how hard she tried, Y/N could not sleep the following night. There was no reason, sleep simply just wouldn't come. After rolling over for the fifth time, she flung back the covers and sat up in the bed, sighing softly.

It was raining gently outside, the sound of thunder gradually getting closer as the rain hardened. It was a hot summer night in the middle of July and the rain was a welcome thing.

Y/N grabbed her shawl and a candle and headed out of her room. She had yet to explore Aubery Hall properly. Whilst she didn't want to trespass into the Bridgerton's private rooms, she wanted to see more of the house Anthony so clearly adored.

Her exploration took her down the stairs and into a very impressive library, full of leather-bound books. She set the candle down on the table in the centre of the room, letting it illuminate the room gently.

Y/N walked over to the walls of shelves, running a hand along the spines. She'd never seen such an extensive, beautiful collection of books before. Whoever was responsible for the library had a stunning collection of Shakespeare as well as every Jane Austen novel. Y/N pulled out a copy of Emma, carefully opening it and scanning the first page.

The door to the library creaked, the light coming in from the corridor growing. Y/N's head shot up and she saw Anthony, half-hiding behind the door. He was wearing his dress shirt and trousers, the top three buttons undone. His suspenders hung down by his sides and he had no shoes on. There was a bizarre sense of vulnerability, seeing him so undressed and calm.

"My apologies, Miss Elliot," Anthony said softly, ducking his head. "I saw a light and I was checking I did not leave a candle on."

"It's only me," Y/N replied, stepping away from the ladder. "I can go -"

"No, please... stay."

Anthony hesitated, hovering in the doorway, one hand on the edge of the door. After a moment, he walked in to the library, gently walking up to Y/N.

"Do you mind?" He asked, holding out a hand for the book.

"Not at all."

Y/N handed him the book, her bare fingers brushing his for a moment. She pulled her shawl up and over her chest, the fringe edging tickling her skin as it trickled down.

"My youngest sisters insisted I buy these," Anthony said, running a hand over the cover of the book, his signet ring glinting in the candlelight. "They wanted me to continue our father's library."

"This was your father's library?" Y/N asked softly.

"It was. He always made sure to include things we all enjoyed. There are books on painting for Benedict, travel guides for Colin - embroidery for Daphne and Francesca." Anthony looked up at the room. "There is something for everyone in my family in here."

"You continued the tradition?"

"I try. It's difficult since we spend more time in London than here. Eloise and Hyacinth insisted on Jane Austen being added to the collection."

"Have you ever read them?"

Anthony chuckled. "Sadly, I do not have enough time to read anymore. I wish I did, however."

Y/N looked at him intently. "If you do not mind me asking... how did your father die?"

Anthony sighed heavily. He smiled sadly. "He was stung by a bee. I had just returned from school when I heard Eloise screaming in the gardens. It was quite something to see a man as great as my father felled by such a small creature."

"How old were you?"

"I was just eighteen. I knew nothing about being a viscount or running estates... my father died before he could teach me everything."

"How did you cope?"

"I didn't," Anthony said, chuckling softly. "You've read the stories and the rumours. It was only last year that I realised that, out of duty to my family, I need to settle down and sort things out."

"Find a wife, you mean," Y/N said.

"Yes." He sighed, closing his eyes. "It's not as simple as simply finding a wife."

"Then explain it to me," Y/N told him softly. She reached out and put a tentative hand on his.

"After my father died... my mother was barely there. She does not remember any of it, not truly. I, however, remember every single moment. I could never..." Anthony trailed off, his voice catching. "I could never be the cause of such pain. No matter how cold-hearted and cruel everyone else may find me to be."

Y/N looked at him, her eyes full of understanding. She inhaled and exhaled slowly. "Has anyone ever loved you as Anthony Bridgerton and not Viscount Bridgerton?"

"I do not believe they are two separate entities. They are one and the same."

"I don't agree." Anthony looked at her sharply. "Anthony Bridgerton is standing in front of me right now. He was in front of me this afternoon in the gardens and in the lake. Viscount Bridgerton was at the balls and the parties. Anthony is you, right now. Maybe you should try and find a way to separate the two."

Y/N give him a small smile. She held her hand out for the book and Anthony handed it back to her, his fingers lingering over hers for a moment.

"Good night, my lord," Y/N said softly.

Y/N exhaled, puffing out her cheeks. She unconsciously pushed her hair pins back into her hair as she looked around the room, watching intently.

Her time as a young woman, desperate for dancing had long gone and now she preferred to stand on the edges of the dance floor amongst the chaperones and mothers.

No one looked at her twice and it was just how she liked it. Y/N had long accepted that she wasn't going to find love from the most eligible suitors in the ton. Instead, she had turned to the older gentleman - the military men, the business owners with enough money to buy most of London.

She wasn't looking for a true love match. But rather someone she could love and could be friends with as time went on. She just wanted someone to look at her as a human being instead of potential wife material.

The people around her started muttering, all eyes turning away from the dance. Y/N followed them and stood to attention as Anthony walked over to her, his eyes set firmly on her and her alone.

"Miss Elliot," Anthony said, bowing.

"Lord Bridgerton."

"I trust you are enjoying your evening?" Anthony asked, his hands still clasped behind his back.

"I am, indeed, thank you for asking. Your mother is an incredible host."

"She prides herself on being able to host a good ball," Anthony said, moving closer to Y/N. "Forgive me if I am being impertinent but I do not believe I have seen you on the dance floor, Miss Elliot."

"Because I have not been asked for a dance, Lord Bridgerton - which is just how I like it," she added quickly.

"Would you make an exception for a viscount?" Anthony asked softly, lowering his voice so just she could hear him.

Y/N looked at him. "I would make an exception for Mr Bridgerton."

Anthony gave her a genuine smile, holding out his hand to her. "Miss Elliot, will you accept Mr Bridgerton's offer to dance?"

Y/N placed her hand into his, gripping his fingers. "I will, Mr Bridgerton."

As the other dancers began walking to the centre of the dance floor, Anthony led Y/N to the back corner of the floor. It was away from the main eyes of the ton yet still allowed them to dance together.

The strings began to play and Anthony gently guided Y/N into the dance, both of them swaying backwards and forwards. He spun her, Y/N's gloved fingers still gripping his hand, high above their heads.

Their arms lowered and Anthony put his hands on her waist as she placed hers on his arm. One step backwards and they were waltzing with everyone else, all dancing in synch.

"I want to apologise for the other day," Anthony said quietly, his lips near Y/N's ear so she could hear him over the music.

"I was out of line, Lord Bridgerton," Y/N replied, letting him release her and then turn her around.

"No, you were not. You were correct with everything you said. My own arrogance and bad experiences resulted in my prejudice. Not every young lady is uneducated and simply a pretty face."

"I think you will find that a lot of young women enjoy reading and writing," Y/N said softly. "They are just seen by society as the outcasts."

"Indeed - much like my sister, Eloise."

Y/N spun to face him, stepping backwards. "What is it?"

"I also wanted to thank you," Anthony replied. "For too long I have lived in my father's shadow. The viscount took over me and I forgot what I, myself wanted. Being able to acknowledge that they are two different things helped. So, thank you."

"You are very welcome, my lord."

"You are also the first person who has ever seen me as just Anthony. As much as I adore my family, they see only an older brother who is the head of the family. It is rare that I can just be myself. The first time we met, you threw my off my guard, wanting to see anyone else other than the viscount."

"Oh, is that why you were so rude to me?"

"Again, I apologise. I have never been good at communicating emotions. I tend to hide them until they boil over. But, you, Miss Elliot, tore down every wall I have ever built."

Y/N ducked under his arm and then turned around. "I do hope that is a good thing."

"It is. But it is also why it has taken me until now, until this very moment, in fact, to realise that I am completely and utterly in love with you.”

Y/N stopped. She stared at Anthony, her eyes wide, her heart pounding. "Pardon me?"

"I apologise if it is too sudden or if I have overstepped," Anthony said quickly, "but when I am with you, I do not have to hide behind my titles. I am simply Anthony. And that is something I did not know I wanted or needed. Not until you made it so clear to me."

The music ended, the last few notes playing out into the crowded room. Y/N belatedly remembered to curtsey to Anthony as the dancers filed off the floor.

"I need some air," Y/N said, turning on her heel.

She weaved through the crowds and walked out onto the patio, relishing the cool air on her skin.

"Miss Elliot, if I have overstepped, I apologise -"

"No, it is not that," Y/N told him, turning to face Anthony. "I just... the reason I see you as just Anthony and nothing else is because... that is all I have ever wanted. Every suitor that comes to my door, no matter how kind and caring they are, never cares to see Y/N. They just want to know if I would be a good wife and mother. No one ever makes the time to get to know me."

"If I have ever made you feel that way -"

"That is the thing, though... you haven't. Never once have I felt that you only cared about me fitting your requirements. Whilst I'm sure other women did... I did not. I felt... feel, as if I can be Y/N. I do not have to pretend to be something I am clearly not."

Anthony was looking at her with such intrigue and kindness it almost made her cry. Never, not once, had a suitor listened to her as much as he had. Never once had they even bothered to care about her as a person.

And now, there was someone who did. Someone who did care - even if they were a reformed Rake.

"Miss Elliot, I am aware that this may be too sudden but... I would very much like to get to know you better."

Y/N smiled gently. "You're not just going to propose to me here and now?"

"I could. But I want to get to know Y/N Elliot first. I want to know what makes her smile and what makes her cry."

He was inches away from her now. Anthony reached out his hand, his fingers brushing against hers. Y/N inhaled sharply at the contact, her skin quickly being covered in goosebumps.

"Well then, Lord Bridgerton," Y/N said softly, her little finger wrapping around his. "You best get on with it."

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagines #bridgerton imagines

[margowritesthings]

The Greatest Gift A Cowboy Could Ask For

a @rdrevents winter gift exchange for @cowboydisaster

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: Arthur Morgan x pregnant!f!reader word count: 3215 words warnings: teeth-rotting fluff, pregnant reader, labour, birth a/n: Bea! i cannot BELIEVE i got you for my winter exchange but i was SO HAPPY when the email came through! I tried to combine all three of your prompts and then proceeded to lie to you for a month about what i was writing for gift exchange whoops

anyway, merry christmas my love! this year i met you and im so glad i did! you're such a lovely soul and such a talented writer and i hope you enjoy this!! <3

tagging: @cowboydisaster @cassidylynnj @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @reaveries @elifsukirdaghehe @musicallisto

It’s the smell that wakes you up, that sweet aroma you instantly recognise as drinking chocolate. For a moment, it disorients you, because Pearson never has drinking chocolate in, but your eyelashes soon flutter open and your mind registers that you’re right where you should be: yours and Arthur’s shared tent. You’re alone, the bed beside you cold enough to know that Arthur has been up for a while, so you reach over to the gold pocket watch you stole from that poker player with the shifty eyes in Blackwater all those months back, finding the time to be 37 minutes past 9.

“Shit…” You’ve slept in. Normally, you’d lurch up, throwing on your boots and clothes and rushing out to catch up on chores, but you physically can’t anymore. Your swollen belly restricts any and all quick movements, that usual ache waking up and settling right in your spine. It’ll stay there all day, it always does nowadays. 

It’ll be worth it, you reassure yourself, imagining Arthur holding his child, the one you made with him, in those big strong arms, loving it unconditionally, and the ache somehow doesn’t seem so bad, after all. There’s a weird feeling that remains that you can’t quite put your finger on, but you can ignore it enough to get on with your day, you think.

Slowly, you sit up, wrapping a woollen blanket around your shoulders to protect you from the chill of the December air. When Ms. Grimshaw found out you were pregnant, she hounded Dutch until he set you and Arthur a proper tent up, which your eyes scan over now. The cup of chocolate is still steaming and when you wrap your hands around it, the heat radiates through your hands and settles in your core when you sip. It tastes so good, the rarity of such a treat only making it better. You smile to yourself, picturing Arthur leaving it there for you to wake up with and sneaking around as to not wake you, the big old brute. 

It takes you far too long to get ready nowadays, but in time you do, pulling three pairs of socks over your swollen ankles to protect your feet from the cold. Your boots are tricky to get on thanks to your 8 month bump, but you eventually manage to do it and stand up all by yourself. What a morning of achievement. And all before 10AM… just about.

═══════☆═══════

The snow crunches under your feet as you pull your coat tighter around you and step outside onto Horseshoe Overlook. Your breath dances in the air whenever you exhale while surveying the camp and your brows knit together when you don’t spot Arthur. You can see his horse by the hitching posts, munching from the trough, but Diesel, your own steed, is nowhere to be seen. You’re not concerned, Arthur has started alternating between Diesel and his mare since you became too pregnant to ride him yourself, but that doesn’t stop you from missing the both of them. 

“Auntie y/n!” As usual, you hear Jack before you see him and you just about jump out of your skin when you feel his little arms hug around your leg. You have no idea how he manages to sneak up on you every damn time, and by god does it make you nervous for when your own child can crawl out of sight, but you laugh nonetheless, ruffling his hair like you so often do when you see him.

“Y’alright there, Jack?” You look down to the boy, actually having to peer over your belly to see him beaming up at you. 

“Yep! Santa’s coming tomorrow and mama said if I’m good and I put one of my socks outside tonight I’ll get presents.”  He’s so excited he can hardly stay still, releasing his hold on you to shuffle from foot to foot restlessly. Looking at Jack, you can see your future. You see Arthur reading Christmas stories to your own son or daughter before bed and bribing them with presents every time they misbehave in the entire month of December. The magic of Christmas is alight in Jack’s innocent little eyes, unburdened by any of the shit the adult members of the Van der Linde gang have to worry about. And you just can’t wait to share that magic with your own little family.

“Is that so?” You raise an eyebrow questioningly at Jack, crossing your arms and resting them on your belly gently,

“Uh huh! She said we have to leave room at the hitchin’ post for his reindeer, too. I told Uncle Arthur so he leaves space when he gets back with Diesel.” Now he’s stepped back, you can see just how red the tip of Jack’s nose is, despite the four scarves Abigail seems to have wrapped him in.

“You saw Uncle Arthur this mornin’?” Your curiosity piques at the mention of your husband and his curious ongoings. Jack nods, but looks off to the side, much less eager to talk about this subject.

“Uh huh. But he made me promise not to tell you where he went.” He can’t seem to fight off the smile pulling at his near-blue lips and it's goddamn adorable, but it doesn’t stop you from at least attempting to corrupt this child’s promise, planting your hands on your hips.

“Oh, yeah? What about if I had a word with Santa for you, huh? Ask if he can bring ya’ an extra chocolate bar?”

So this is what it’s come to, huh?

Bribing a 10 year old… 

Forshame, Mrs. Morgan.

═══════☆═══════

It’s another hour before you find out where Arthur is. Jack doesn’t break under interrogation and you make a mental note to let his Uncle Dutch know what an asset he is to the gang. Pearson makes you bacon and eggs even though you missed breakfast on orders from both Arthur and Grimshaw to never let you go hungry in your condition. The strange feeling from when you woke up doesn’t seem to budge even with a full stomach, but that thought is pushed out of your head when you see a dog, covered in snow, burst past Charles keeping watch and come barreling towards you. You don’t have time to react or figure out what the hell is going on before there are wet paws on your lap and a fluffy, panting smile only inches away from your face.

“MOOSE! Get back here, Moose!” Arthur’s voice bellows through the camp and you can hear Diesel's gallop, but you can’t seem to see anything but dog as the hound in front of you grabs the last piece of bacon from your plate and begins licking your face.

Somehow, Arthur runs over to you and grabs who you assume to be Moose, picking him up with an ease that only his strong arms could take. You seem to be frozen in shock, your mind working triple speed to catch up with your surroundings. 

Okay, what can you feel?

My face is wet.

What can you see?

My husband, holding a 50lb dog like it’s a baby.

What about smell?

Not sure, but it definitely isn’t my last piece of bacon.

“God, darlin’, are you alright? Did he hurt’cha?” Arthur’s concern is evident, wrinkling his forehead with worry as he puts the dog back on the floor, who has considerably calmed now that there is no more bacon. Arthur takes a few strides before he’s in front of you, kneeling beside you to take your face in his huge gloved hands and wildly scan his eyes over your features. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine. The only casualty was my breakfast.” At 8 months pregnant, it’s hard not to find that completely and utterly tragic, but at least your baby is safe.

“That damn dog… I should’a listened when the guy told me he’s got a mind of his own.” Satisfied of a lack of wounds to your person, Arthur stands, holding out both hands to help you up too. You fall into his embrace perfectly, finally feeling the relief of the first contact with your beloved for the day. It makes everything feel that much better, that much safer in his arms that you hum contentedly.

“Mornin’, sweetheart.” Arthur whispers into your hair, placing a kiss right atop your head, “Good morning…” you sigh out, basking in the bubble that’s forming around the two of you, as if you’re the only ones in the world. “Thanks for the chocolate this morning.”

“My pleasure.”

You both stay there for a while, swaying in your embrace, until you eye what’s going on around you and have to break the moment.

“...Arthur?” “Yeah?” “Why is there a dog eatin’ one of Dutch’s books?” “Ah shit… Moose! NO.” Arthur all but barks, his arms slipping from your waist to retrieve Moose. He slips a rope around Moose’s collar, which seems to calm him quite a bit, enough to be able to lead him back over to you. Now the excitement has died down, Moose sits beside Arthur, doting up at you with the epitome of ‘puppy dog eyes’.

Alright… it’s pretty damn cute.

And when Arthur sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, you know he’s yours. You can read your husband like a book.

“I, uh… The other month y’said you’ve always wanted a dog, and I figured it'd be easier to get a dog then a baby rather than the other way around and… and well you’re giving me so much this year, more than I can ever repay and… well, merry christmas, Mrs. Morgan.” His nervous ramblings that only you seem to have the ability to enable are a pleasure to watch. They grow your grin by the second, as does the goofiest dog you’ve ever seen smiling up at you. You’re so happy you could burst, though you certainly wouldn’t want to in your state. You’re completely speechless for a second.

“You’re… you’re not mad, are ya?” “I mean, I ain’t never heard’a somethin’ so bold as gettin’ a new dog a month before givin’ birth, but no. I… I love him. Thank you, Arthur.” You reach onto your tiptoes to throw your arms around his neck as best you can with a baby between you, kissing Arthur with enough force for him to drop the makeshift leash in complete distraction. Moose feels his release happen and runs off again, this time finding and chasing Jack around in circles while he laughs madly. Arthur snakes an arm around your waist and you feel your head fit perfectly into the crook of his neck while you watch the chaos. 

“How’re y’feelin’ today? Still achin’?” “Uh huh… But I’m okay. Feel a little weird, but I think that’s normal at this stage.” You reply honestly, feeling the smallest bit of relief from the thumb circling your lower back.

“Well, take it easy, alright? I’ve done chores enough for the both of us.”

“Alright… Thank you.” You sigh, actually rather missing the hustle. You’re a ranch girl at heart who isn’t used to just sitting around, your decreasing list of things you can actually do nowadays getting more frustrating by the day.

“Not long to go now till we meet her now, angel.” “We don’t know for sure it’s a girl, cowpoke.”

“I know… I just gotta feelin’.”

═══════☆═══════

Later that evening, everyone in camp is sitting around the fire breathing like dragons as they sing christmas carols to Javier’s guitar and you’re tucked under Arthur’s arm, cuddling into him to keep warm. You’re pretty sure Moose hasn’t left Jack’s side all day. Not since he slipped him an entire bowl of stew at dinner, at least. 

The strange feeling of pressure that has been building in your abdomen all day hasn’t yet relented, but you haven’t yet found good enough cause to worry anyone about it. You’re 8 months along, surely you’re supposed to feel weird?

You’re the only one close enough to Arthur to know that he has absolutely no idea what the words to this song are. He’s mumbling along to the general tune, sounding a lot like Uncle’s slurs after a few too many whiskies. It takes everything in you to not snicker at his poor attempt to guess how many of which kind of bird or performer or… maid(?) this songwriter got for Christmas, especially when you’re pretty sure you hear the words ‘seven fish-a-shittin’ leave his lips. 

Everything is one fat man in a red suit away from being the perfect picturesque Christmas Eve, which you’re about to point out to Arthur when the sharpest stabbing pain rips a strangled cry from deep within your throat. Your hands shoot to your belly helplessly, wanting to grip at it to ease the pain but knowing you can’t. The carols are too loud for anyone but Arthur to notice, who instantly crouches in front of you.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” He’s panicked, grasping at your arms and attempting to capture your attention away from the considerable pain you’re clearly in. Your face is scrunched up, teeth clenched down in some poor attempt to brace the pain.

“I… I don’t know. It hurts. Feels like pressure.. Right- argh!” 

This time, your cry is loud enough to gain the attention of those around the fire. Javier stops playing and most everybody looks over at you. Ms. Grimshaw and Dutch both stand, concern evidently written in their expression. 

“Is she alright?” Dutch asks,

“What’s happenin’, honey?” Grimshaw kneels beside Arthur in front of you. You try to breathe through the smallest hole your lips can make, focusing on the sensation as much as you can rather than whatever is happening to you. You’re trying your hardest not to worry about the baby, but it’s hard, especially with so many people now worrying about you out loud.

“I… dunno. Hurts.” You manage to get out, finding Arthur’s hand and gripping on it with a downright bruising force.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside and out of the cold, alright?” You nod, feeling Arthur holding onto one arm and who you assume is Dutch on the other helping you to your feet. You lean on them as much as possible and somehow you make it into your tent. You’re laid down on your cot just as the pain begins to subside and your lungs feel like they can open back up again. When your eyelids soften again, you see Arthur’s worried face right beside you, Grimshaw pottering around with towels and Dutch waiting by the entrance to the tent with Dr. Strauss.

“Darlin’? Y’alright?” The sheer intensity of the panic in his voice is almost more than you can bear and you know he’s being plagued by the same nightmare you are right now, just hoping to god or whoever the hell might be listening that your baby is okay.

“Mhm. S’easing now… It just came on real quick, that’s all…” Your breaths are struggled but ever so slightly more stable than before. Arthur’s thumb runs over your knuckles soothingly. 

Over by the entrance to the tent, you see Dutch and Strauss in a hushed conversation that frays your nerves something awful. “What’s happening, Arthur?”

“I… I don’t know, sweetheart. But you’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

Enter Dr. Strauss, carrying his medical bag. Arthur stays right by your side as the Doctor sits in front of your cot, mumbling his apologies as he lifts up your skirts and pulls a blanket over your legs.

You’re panicking, not knowing how you know exactly, but knowing that the pressure is going to come back soon. An awful anticipation clamps your hand onto Arthur’s tighter, but Strauss’ head pops up from under the blanket before it happens. Arthur’s head whips around.

“What’s happening, doc? Is she okay? Is… is the baby gonna be okay?”

The second between Arthur’s question and Strauss’ answer lasts a lifetime. It’s an agony worse than anything this pregnancy has thrown at you in all its 8 months in existence. 

“I believe you’re in labour, Mrs. Morgan.”

═══════☆═══════

It’s a long, hard labour but Arthur never leaves your side once. Not when your waters break, or when he can barely keep his eyes open. Not even when you almost break his hand the first time you try to push. He stays with you. 

He’s right beside you when you start to panic between contractions, tears falling down your reddened cheeks. “It can’t be here yet- we just got a dog and it’s only been eight months and I-I don’t know if I’m ready…” 

But he knows just what to say. Of course he does. He even brings Moose in to say hello and prove he has relaxed a lot since his first arrival.

He’s with you when you break, sobbing that you can’t push anymore, your forehead falling against his in pure exhaustion. “Shut up, stupid.” He scolds gently, earning a confused look from you. “You know damn well you’re the strongest woman alive and you can do goddamn anything. It’s one of the many reasons I fell for ya’. Now push, before I name this baby Hoagy after it’s Godfather.” 

He’s there when she’s born, such a tiny little thing, a month early but just as healthy as if she were overdue. He’s got that smug look on his face when Strauss announces her arrival, the loudest silent ‘I told you so’ you’ve ever seen. 

Arthur holds his daughter in his arms for the first time on Christmas Day, his eyes glistening in the candlelight. 

“She’s… She’s perfect. She’s so perfect…”

Your energy is depleted, truly, after so many hours of labour, but you manage to sit up against the makeshift crate headboard to watch your husband and daughter meet each other.

Her tiny hands reach out for Arthur, holding onto his cheek and if you could freeze time forever and live in this moment, you would.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Arthur whispers, shifting to kiss her palm, “Isn’t she?”

“I mean… she is, but I was talkin’ to you.” He looks up at you and you decide not to mention the tear tracks you spot on his skin.

“Oh, hush…” There’s an attempt to wave him off, but your shaky limbs don’t quite manage.

“No, I mean it. You… You’ve given me everything. I never knew I wanted to be a dad, but now she’s here and I’m holdin’ her I…” He’s choking up in a way you’ve never seen before. The great outlaw Arthur Morgan, who has killed and robbed and beaten, breaking in front of you in the most beautiful, vulnerable way imaginable. “It’s everything. I can never thank you enough. This is the best gift I could ever get, my beautiful, amazing wife.”

His words radiate through you, relaxing your spine and calming each ache bringing life to the world has given you. You can feel your eyelids get heavier by the second and it gets harder and harder to fight the sleep you so desperately need.

“Arthur?” You’re barely audible, but Arthur is sat close enough to hear you,

“Uh huh?”

“We don’t have to name her Hoagy, do we?”

“We’ll talk about it later, angel.”

#rdrSecretWinterExchange #margos christmas spectacular #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan x y/n #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan rdr #rdr2 #rdr #rdr2 fanfiction #arthur morgan red dead #red dead redemption

[glittertrail]

💌? :)

bridgeton, complicated feelings about flags, multilingualism, self insert fics, incredibly detailed tag systems, very pretty blog themes, being a very good sport about french jokes

send me a 💌 and i'll tell you something i associate with you

#and by that i mean spanish tumblr making jokes about the french (clara te queremos lo prometo) #replies #ask games #musicallisto

[permanentreverie]

rules: go to pinterest and search ‘celebrity’ ‘outfit’ ‘quote’ and ‘aesthetic’

tagged by @delilahsbard @jeanmoreaux @ohwarnette @pallases thanks loves <3

tagging @musicallisto @mixtapedoh @aralisj @jamesscarstairs @thecoolestfreakyouknow @thestarlessea @daisysjones @daydreaming-optimist

#mwah mwah i love seeing the different pics people are choosing! #tag games

[faerieroyal]

𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲’𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

i present to you all a new event to mark the revamp of my blog !! anyone can participate in this, but i would ask that you only send in one request per ask, and i am going to be limiting it to only five requests per person just so i don’t get overwhelmed. i’m also asking that you limit your requests to characters and fandoms that i write for. this event will be open from january 7th until january 12th, hope you guys have fun with it <3

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 — ⟢﹒ send me an aesthetic, character, au, or anything you want, and i’ll make a moodboard for it <3

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 — ⟢﹒ classic tumblr games !! send me a cym, kmk ( kiss marry kill ), would you rather, or any other tumblr game <3

𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐠𝐞 — ⟢﹒ send me this and i’ll tell you what musical theatre soundtrack + song from that soundtrack i think fits you best <3

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 ����𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 — ⟢﹒ send me this + a random word, and i’ll tell you a random fact or story i know that reminds me of that word <3

𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 — ⟢﹒ tell me what aesthetic you think fits me best, and i’ll do the same <3

— ❥ tagging some of the beloveds: @heliads, @hiya-itsamber, @auxiliarydetective, @spaceagebachelormann, @juneberrie, @lovings4turn, @folkloresthings, @mayfieldss, @darling-im-wonderstruck, @hyucksfairie, @talkingturnedtoscreamss, @mictodii, @musicallisto, @diorgirl444, @diqldrunk, @ghostlyfleur, @masivechaos, @sp1rit-realm, @oneirataxia-girl, @maddipoof, @agentlilicarter, @teddy06, @thebestieyoureinlovewith, @doyouknowwhoyouare13, @starstruckwillows,

#— ❥ dolly speaks now !! #— ⟢﹒dolly's events: dark enchanted forest !!

[witchthewriter]

𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 @musicallisto.

#personal moodboards #personal aesthetic #aesthetic #aesthetic moodboard #royalcore #romancecore #romantic #romantic moodboard #fairytale #fairytale moodboard #fairytale aesthetic #romantic aesthetic #romance #romance aesthetic

[swanimagines]

Hey could you do some head canons of how Kaz would react to the reader getting hurt?

Warnings: blood, injuries

(I noticed while I was doing the finishing touches into this that one headcanon sounds very familiar and realised I was probably subconsciously inspired with the oneshot "Inflicted Desire" by my dear friend @/jexnrey, who deactivated a while ago and said she's never going to come back as Tumblr stressed her too much, so let this be a kind of tribute for her, she constantly told me she especially loves my Kaz stuff so if you ever see this Ani, I miss you but I wish nothing but good for you ❤️)

KAZ REACTING TO YOU GETTING HURT:

– If it's just a scratch or even a small wound and it isn't caused by anyone else, he isn't too bothered. He might look at it for a moment and then decide it's not anything too bad, minor injuries are an (almost) every day happening when you're a Dreg.

– Of course, if someone did it to you, he's pissed about it and sternly tells you to be more careful because he can't lose you.

– Or he doesn't say the last bit, but you can see it in his eyes as you're already in a relationship at that point.

– But if you're brought back to the Slat with a large wound, sputtering out blood or/and looking like you're about to pass out from pain, he doesn't take it as calmly, obviously.

– It's more like he freaks out and it shows in with how much he stresses for you.

– And if Kaz Brekker if overly stressed, you won't strike a friendly chat with him unless you want to risk receiving a broken hand.

– He's a walking thunderstorm and spares nobody from it.

– If you were any other Dreg, he would just ignore you and let you be tended by whoever takes up the task (as he knows his gang knows what to do in such situations), but with you, he's distracting Nina all the time by pacing back and forth, demanding her to heal you faster.

"Just do your job like you're supposed to, Zenik." -Kaz

"I'm trying, but you aren't making it easy, your heartbeat is too loud, I can barely hear Y/N's heart over it." -Nina

– He huffs at that, sitting on an armchair in the corner of the room and staring at your face. If he wouldn't see the blood, he'd think you're just sleeping.

– He tried to concentrate on your peaceful face to get his heartbeat down, knowing he can't appear weak in front of anyone.

– As soon as Nina manages to stabilize you, he goes to the office and starts the work to find out who did it.

– Inej heard a Black Tips member bragging about killing off one of the most skilled Dregs, saying you were incredibly stupid when you didn't hear him.

– Immediately when she turns his identity to Kaz, he orders that guy to be brought to him.

– Kaz makes sure all of Ketterdam hears his cries of mercy and, towards the end, pleads to kill him already.

– Kaz doesn't, of course - everyone has to know that nobody can touch what's his.

---

Tags: @musicallisto @take-me-to-ny @retvenkos @number-0-iz @kaqua @readingslumpfanfic @dancingwith-sunflowers @shadowhuntyi @rika90 @imma-too-many-fandoms @the-abyss-gazed-back @thereagles @louweasleymalfoy @malfoys-demigod @mxltifxnd0m @dustyjjumpwings @whatiswrongwithpeople @ellora-brekker @brekkers-desigirl @heyitsaloy @mentallynotstableghost @scandalous-chaos @nyx2021 @peter-parkers-cullen-nerd @supervalcsi @doutorbaizhu @bb-skyrunner @lightprincess-world @animalistic0 @story-scribbler @writingmysanity @lovemenotplz @directioner5life @imaginesfire @thevipers-world // send in an ask to be added, and specify which of my fandoms you want to be tagged on! Don’t just say “can you add me to your taglist” as I can’t know what taglists do you mean by that!! ALSO IF YOU WON’T INTERACT BEYOND LIKING, I’LL EVENTUALLY TAKE YOU OFF THE LIST!!

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #sab #sab x reader #sab imagine #headcanons #my works #gn reader