#every day i wake up and hope maybe today i can convince myself to stop being such a loser antisocial fuckup who actually is worth something

[ourhouseishaunted]

desperately hoping my life amounts to anything soon :)

[grapejuicestyless]

Love Me Until My Breathing Stops?

Harry Styles x Fem!reader

Angst to Fluff

DISCLAIMER!: There are some very serious topics in this. Depression, mentions of fucked up relationships. This is not romanticizing this at all.

Teaser: "Now they'd pass with whispers about how she'd only ever be a shell of who she once was. Destroyed by the weight of the love that she'd given so recklessly and the evil she'd let sleep next to her in her bed at night."

To be honest, I had no idea where it went so irreparably wrong. You never notice you're slipping until your feet are out from under you and your head hits the floor. Maybe that's how I never saw it coming.

My bed was my new home, my tears were my midnight snack and my eyes were probably permanently shut from the puffy skin that was blotchy and irritated beyond belief. My pillow was my sanctuary and the darkness was my friend. I miss my old friend sunshine. I miss the backyard barbeques and the reunions in the park. I miss the kids running from the bees and the smell of the wet grass in the mornings.

It had been a month, two weeks, three days, twenty one hours and thirteen minutes since I'd fallen, unable to pick up the shattered pieces that became my identity. The shadow of the girl who used to find peace in the smiles from people passing by. The girl who threw welcome home parties and tended to her garden every afternoon. Now they'd pass with whispers about how she'd only ever be a shell of who she once was. Destroyed by the weight of the love that she'd given so recklessly and the evil she'd let sleep next to her in her bed at night.

I'd been so convinced that he was the one. Grew up these past few months believing I was all that he saw. Breathing him was slowly killing me. I thought so highly of the man I shared my in's and out's with. I'd wake up early just to see the even rise of his chest, dreaming of his curly hair and our future together. Now in my own suffering, I dreamt that he drowned.

But it wasn't his fault, no he'd asked if I would be okay. I promised I'd be okay. There was no okay, how could he believe me? How can someone simply be okay after wrecking the only thing I'd been sure of in my entire life? No, there wasn't okay. There was simply bad and worse.

Today, was bad.

On days like this, I would talk myself up to a shower. Rid myself of the stench of rock bottom. Ridding myself of the killer that drove him away. How could he be so forgiving to me not being enough? How could he brush off my wasted potential and blame it on himself. Guilt till consumed me whole, even if he'd underlined it in red that it was him, not me. His unfaithfulness that had torn a sweet love story to ashes. Tell me, how could the attentive wife to be miss the smirk hiding beneath his winning smile, his lessons really just weapons targeted at my deepest hurts. Every comforting explanation was twisted way back to what I feared most.

Soon, I'd find myself in the kitchen, raiding the empty cabinets and the ransacked fridge. There was only crumbs and lemon juice in the entire house by now. The appetite I'd worked up gone at just the flashbacks of the slow dances in the crack of the refrigerator light. His hand over mine and his empty promises soothing in my ear. Did he want me or did he want me not? I heard one thing, now I'm hearing another.

I felt rage boiling, the slam of the door rattling the plates in the sink and the pan on the stove. Ripping my hair from my head was the only reliever of the pain, tearing apart my body hoping that eventually it could be put back together into a beautiful bloody mess. Wearing my hurt on my sleeve and praying to god that, that someone could love me just as much for that.

I was thinner now, shedding the pounds like I had anymore to spare. The only clothes that still fit was a white ruffled dress that fell just below my knees. The straps hanging loosely and my feet slipped into black Mary Janes and red socks. I wonder how ghostly I looked stepping into the sun. Skin greyed from the lack of light.

I counted my breathing, noted the cracks on the pavement and counted the daffodils on the walk into town. All to cease the tears pushing behind my eyes.

It was nice out, the air was crisp and warming with the middle of spring having sprung. Vines were growing and the world was getting loud again. It was peaceful, I wanted a piece of that inner silence for myself. Maybe it would bring me a sort of closure, pushing me towards a more okay future.

I listened to the bell rattle with the push of the door, hands hanging loose at my sides. I waved towards the girl working the counter in the flower store. She smiled, recognizing the unrecognizable shadow that waltzed into the humid room. I pasted on the fake togetherness I'd mastered from unexpected visits from family and friends. Trying to imitate the girl who had lost her way long ago.

"Do you have any tulips?" My eyes remained glued to the flower beds as I searched the store for any bright pink clusters.

"A few in the back row, though you might need to hurry, they're quite popular today." I nodded, scurrying to the back in hopes to finally get what I wanted.

There, I saw the empty basket, the last bouquet of bright pink tulips being held up to a tall man. He was maybe six feet tall, but his posture made him seem a little shorter. His hair was chocolatey brown with free falling curls and waves pushed behind his tortoise shell sunglasses. He wore a teal cardigan over a white graphic tee that read something in blue I couldn't quite make out from the angle. His legs fit into lose jeans with rips at the knees and blue and white checkered vans. His laces were ripped slightly, probably from stepping on them, and he smelled like sweet vanilla.

He looked like happiness, a ray of modern day sunshine and fair love, his nose still buried between two flowers, eyes fluttered shut.

Some white carnations lined with a hot pink sat near the tulips, they looked just as beautiful as the fresh flowers that I'd missed by a second too late.

I let myself sigh after taking in the clean smell from the center of them, the crinkling of the paper distracting me from the hurt I felt inside.

"You planning a wedding?" His English accent wasn't horribly noticeable, but still able to be picked up on. I cracked a smile, trying to be polite. Trying to be the girl I missed.

"Something like that, yeah." He laughed, we made eye contact.

I could see his dark green eyes now, sparkling with interest. I can only imagine the lack thereof that I returned to him.

"I'm Harry." He held out his hand, smiling so much so there were crinkles by his eyes.

"I'm y/n." I met his palms. They were soft yet rough around the edges. His fingers had been picked at and he had guitar string scars across his hands.

There was a silence. It was comfortable, relaxed but still, I itched to back away.

"It was nice to meet you." I stepped back, walking away faster than I came to pay for the carnations clenched between my shaking hands.

"Hey wait!" His footsteps were heavy, hammering into the asphalt. I turned, but continued to move backwards, a faint smile played on his lips. Chasing after the beautiful fool who secretly adored the interest the random flower shop boy took in her.

"Missed me already?" I turned back to walk forwards once I felt his arm bump mine.

"Can't help it, you're just so missable!" He joked, flowers facing down at the ground, hitting each other as we walked close together. We left a petal trail as we walked.

"You say that to every girl you meet?"

"Only the runaway brides dressed up like Dorothy on her way to Oz." I covered my smile in my hand, brushing the blush off.

"I'm flattered." We shared a look, walking in silence as we looked at each others eyes.

"So tell me about yourself, Dorothy."

"Dorothy?" He pointed to my shoes, I scoffed.

"Okay..." I thought on it, counting the cracks again.

I knew I was barely together. Barely able to keep up with the work that seemed to just pile itself onto my back. I knew that my finger still stung from when I ripped off the engagement ring and told him to go to hell. I knew I was a fucked in the head, a childish girl who only wanted to be loved like she loved others. I knew at one point I would've said all these things to Harry, a man I'd met only a few minutes ago. Trusted him easily and let him in without an inch of doubt. But I also knew that wasn't fully me anymore.

"I haven't met the new me yet." I smiled at him, chewing at my cheek at the curious eyebrow lift and the breathy laugh.

'What about you, Harry? Who are you?" I looked to my feet.

"I'll let you decide." He looked to my face, my eyes finding it almost impossible to meet his warm gaze.

"Someone who reads too many love stories."

"Says the one dressed as Wendy from Peter Pan." I laughed, meeting his stare finally.

"Am I Wendy or Dorothy?"

"Why not both?" He was unbelievably easy to talk to, even in my mess and hurt, it soothed the panging in my chest with every breath he took.

"Let me walk you home, y/n?" I smiled.

"Okay." We fell into a silence again, out of teasing and jokes to share for the five minute walk remaining. I went back to counting the daffodils and he went back to sniffing his flowers. I went back to silently pulling myself together, picking up any shards of myself that had fallen and focused on my breathing.

"This is mine." I looked towards the dark home, the garden still neat despite the overgrown plants and the few dead plants. I looked back at Harry, then to his feet where his tulip petals continued to fall. They looked bare, hurt and dying now. I met his eyes again.

"Take good care of those tulips for me?" He froze, confused about the sudden request after my silence towards him and his polite offer.

"Yeah, of course." I nodded, turning myself slowly towards my front steps. I took in the pale blue of my paint, the new white shutters beautiful and perfectly matched with the white wrap around porch that hugged the west corner of the home snuggly and the short, white picket fence. You would've never expected such a fuck up to live in such a nice looking home.

"Bye, Harry." Waving, I made my way up the driveway, passing the fence and the the garden. All while he stood there, done with the chase, done with my mood swings. My politeness and my silence. My trust and my question. He stayed outside of my lawn, feet stuck to the sidewalk like gum.

Seven months, one week, six hours and eighteen minutes since I'd fallen, unable to pick up the shattered pieces that became my identity. Seven months, one week, six hours and eighteen minutes since the man who hung the moon for me in my eyes confessed his infidelities and left me to throw a pity party for myself. Almost six months since the next best thing had entered my life. My best friend, Harry.

Unlike my ex-fiancé, Harry came back. He came back and picked up the shards that I'd let crack and bleed under my feet and glued me back together. He'd come by once a week at first, checking up after noticing the vacant look in my eyes when we first parted ways. How I'd slipped into the darkest house he'd ever seen. Cold, tired, worked to the bone. Once turned into twice. Twice turned into four and four turned into almost everyday. His knock at my door my favorite sound. Yet, what he knew of me, wasn't fully me.

Even with Harry and his flowers decorating my home. Even with his laugh and his trusting demeanor, part of that girl I was was forever lost. That engagement ring hadn't only taken skin, it had taken the foolish woman who slept next to a liar and swallowed her pride. It had taken my ability to let people in so easily. And I wish he hadn't taken that from me, because as stupidly blind she was, she was some of the best parts of me.

"The Notebook or Ten Things I Hate About You?" Harry hoped over the back of my couch, his arm falling limp around my shoulders, each hand holding a movie for me to chose.

"Is that even a question?" I snatched the disc with Heath Ledger on the cover and waved it around Harry's face. He smiled, ruffling up my hair before getting up to pop the disc in.

"I need to stop asking you these things, Dorothy. I was hoping for the notebook." I stuck my tongue out, my heart flooding with a familiar warmth only Harry could pull from me.

I bit my cheek until it bled, my shoulder squished between his chest and the bend of his elbow. Silently, I mouthed the lines to the movie, my lips brushing against the soft cotton of Harry's white t-shirt.

"That tickles, my love." He laughed, craning his head down while mine stretched up. Crinkles folded by my eyes, smile lines permanently tattooed on my skin from just the past few months. What was a curse for others, was a permanent reminder of the adoration I had gained for Harry and his ability to fix what was irreparably shattered.

"What?" His whole body shook with a silent giggle, eyes reflecting the movie and an emotion I couldn't pin. I remained silent, eyes flicking down to his lips, his eyes following mine. I felt his touch tighten around my back and his body heat up.

Closer and closer, longer and longer. I panicked the closer I got to wrecking this beautiful relationship we'd built over a silly crush I'd obtained.

Sure, he was nice. He was handsome and possibly the best thing that had ever walked into my life, but stacking every single one of those reasons and more couldn't make me risk everything. I couldn't deal with someone else I loved walking out of my life.

I inched away, scared. I watched his face freeze, eyes relaxed and breath hot on my lips.

"Harry." I whimpered.

"Y/n."

"What if we fuck this up? What if after tonight you change your mind? I can't do that again Harry. I can't pick myself up again." I quietly rambled, tense, scared of the idea that I would face the hatred for my own reflection for weeks and weeks again.

"Y/n." He repeated, softer.

My mouth stopped, eyes flicking to observe his expression over and over. Trying to fight back the tears that built and built.

"I swear to you, I'm not going anywhere. If you trust me, let me in just this once, I wont leave until you're kicking me out." He searched my face now, an internal fight going on in my head. He made it so hard to think being so close him.

"Love me until my breathing stops?" I asked, tears springing from under my eyes and gathering at my waterline now. Scared, just as I was all those months ago. no longer a vacant stare, but one of fear and uncertainty.

"I'll love you until my breathing stops." He wiped under my eyes, fingers quick to land on my cheeks. He waited, patiently for any sign that it would be okay to continue.

I nodded, swallowing.

"Okay."

"Okay?" He smiled, shoulders slumping like a weight had been lifted and he was at ease.

"Okay." I returned the feeling, lips brushing his. They were soft and plump. They tasted of buttery popcorn and chocolate. His nose bumped into mine, skin brushing skin and limbs tangling the longer we tried to hold onto the moment.

When we pulled away, it was breathless, and suddenly I realized the man who'd hurt me seven months, one week, seven hours and three minutes ago hadn't stolen the best parts of me, he only scared her into hiding.

[herotome]

Devlog #123

Hi-ho, Wudge here.

So... it's out! If you somehow haven't heard despite my modest-yet-incessant marketing efforts, Herotome's Super Demo is now out on itch.io!

People seem to really enjoy the game. My notifications are blowing up. Everything seems to be going really well - it's all coming up Wudge, one might say!

Which means it's time to talk about 𝓜𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓵 𝓘𝓵𝓵𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼.~

Y'all weren't expecting that one, were ya? Boom, baby! Haha!!!

So, let me know if this sounds familiar: I spend most of my waking moments worrying that something bad is going to happen. I'm perpetually waiting for the other shoe to drop. (Thank you to @hummingbird-games for reminding me that idiom exists, and taking it in good humor when I excitedly babbled that "YES! It's like there's this giant centipede with shoes in my ceiling and I'm convinced I hear him walking around and someday, someday he's gonna throw all his shoes at me like that one guy did to George Bush--!"

...I'm worried that someone is going to find a reason to be rightfully angry with me. I'm worried that, through the mortifying ordeal of being known, I will be punished with the harrowing gauntlet of rejection and misery. I worry that, any day now, I'm going to get a random half-thought-out message that obliterates my heart into smithereens and kills me on the spot. I am a sea slug, cautiously edging a tendril into the light and praying not to be noticed by the eldritch fish above that will devour me in a single gulp.

I find myself flinching even when there isn't a blow coming.

Putting out a piece of yourself for the public to consume is really fucking terrifying. I did it anyway, which is cool of me, but I want to make it known that there is not eternal bliss and satisfaction and rose petals on the other side. Is this better than my cave of solitude and darkness I emerged from? I think so. But I'm still perpetually scared, as Toby Fox might once have described it, "like a small dog startled by a thunder storm."

I'm still really tired, too.

I don't write this to complain; I'm conscious that some people are now looking up to me and the way I do things, and I want to be transparent. I don't want anyone to think I'm perfect or have always been perfect and will always be perfect, or that I've ~found happiness~.

I'm not. I have never been. I will never be. I haven't.

But I'm okay, at least. I'm okay and I'll be okay, and I'm grateful to you all. Every single one of you. Thank you for not submitting me to the harrowing gauntlet of rejection and misery…yet.  :^)

Alright what's the takeaway here. Uhm.

Be yourself! Follow your dreams! Never give up!!!

That's sincerely what I'm trying to do. It's a challenge every single day; I have to choose Herotome every single day (something something married to my own game blah blah blah). It is worth it. And I believe in you - assuming you're not a cannibal or a murder or, worst of all, a plagiarist (gasp!) or anything else terrible and bad - I believe in you. (… But honestly, I'd believe in you if you were a bad person too, I'd believe in you to continue to do bad things but I'd hope that you'll stop and turn yourself in to the proper authorities lmao…)

… I went on a weird tangent again…

I don’t know if any of this is making sense. Maybe it will be insightful to someone out there, maybe it won't.

I uh, did some writing for the next part of the game, and I plan on working on some character expressions today in honor of my Ko-Fi donators.

Oh, and there's gonna be a stream on Wednesday 10pm Pacific. I'll be there! Come say hi and please don't squish me!

… Yeah that's all I can think of writing for now. I absolutely wish you all the best with every speck of love I have in my current flesh prison.

Tata for now. Stay safe and keep warm,

Wudge.

[quarantineddreamer]

hello hi! hope you're doin good! i was wondering, could you do prompt 2."things you said through your teeth" for RebelCaptain from the mini-fic ask game, pretty please?

Hello, hi --thank you so much for the ask!! This one got out of control a bit (I actively had to pull myself back from allowing it to totally spiral) so I don't think it classifies as a drabble anymore (oops), but I hope you like it! 😅💜

things you said through your teeth

When it comes to Cassian Andor, Jyn finds herself lying both to herself, and others, a lot... 

The day the medics decide it is time to try and wake Cassian from his coma, she is sitting on the floor just outside his room, back pressed against the cool wall, intermittently pulling her legs in so a passing rebel does not trip on them. 

Anxiety tickles at her insides, pressing at her nerves, forcing her muscles to twitch, trapping her in a useless cycle of fidgeting and tense, heavy sighs. She cannot seem to stop the memories that invade her mind… 

The half-smile he’d managed, even through extreme pain, when he’d come back for her, caught her eyes from the other end of a smoking blaster. 

Staring into his eyes on the elevator. She’d expected relief, to no longer care now that the mission was done–what else was there? But instead she had caught herself wishing for more time. Maybe there were some things still unfinished after all…

His arms around her on the beach, the odd wave of contentment that had washed over her…

Will he remember those moments too? How will he look at her when they finally see each other again? 

She tells herself it doesn’t matter, why should it? She tells herself her restlessness is merely a matter of concern for a friend. 

(Even if her heart is pounding the moment the medic appears to tell her he is awake, she can come see him if she wants…)

She is sitting across from Bodhi in the mess hall, watching Cassian’s figure retreat, studying the limp he tries to hide–the one that means he’s in more pain than usual today–reflecting on the serious expression that had remained fixed on his face all through their meal, the food on his plate that had been seemingly forgotten, barely more than a bite consumed.  

“Do you want to go after him?” Bodhi asks, eyes fixed on her nearly as intently as her own are fixed on Cassian. There is something to his gaze, another question that is going unspoken. 

“No,” Jyn says quickly, tearing her eyes from Cassian and returning them to her lunch. She picks up her fork and stabs at mystery meat with what could perhaps be defined as unusual intensity. “No, of course not. Why would I?”

Bodhi shrugs, “Seemed like you wanted to.”

“No,” she says again. The third time in less than a minute, as though she is running lines for a play, committing the act to memory–as though she will become more convincing with practice. “I don’t want to…”

“Get this,” Melshi raises his flask to his lips once more, cheeks a cheery pink as he laughs, “one of the new recruits made a pass at our very own Captain Andor today.”

Jyn stiffens, fingers tightening on her glass, eyes jumping to Cassian’s face.

He shakes his head at his friend, gives a small, good-natured smile. 

“Oooh really?” Han smirks, turning with interest. “Do tell.”

Jyn stands abruptly and every person seated around the fire raises their heads to look at her, confused. “I have an early morning,” she mutters, reaching for the nearest bottle and lifting it in acknowledgement to her companions. “Good night.”

She marches away, feeling the quiet, the curiosity that she leaves in her wake, settling over the group like a fine layer of dust. She ignores it, takes a swig of the liquor straight from the bottle as she traces her way down the dim hallway. Eventually, the sound of laughter and easy conversation returns, an echo that grows fainter and fainter with each desperate step she takes. 

“Jyn, wait!” Cassian’s voice calls after her, and she knows it is his hand she feels land on her shoulder and pull her around. 

Her core tightens as though preparing for a blow, an instinctive layer of armor that is enough of a reminder of self to borrow strength from. She raises her eyes to look at him, face carefully blank. “What do you need?” she asks, tone even, formal. 

For a moment she thinks she’s somehow hurt him, because his hand drops from her shoulder and his eyes hold a flicker of doubt. “I’m… I’m sorry about that,” he gestures at the fire behind, “back there…”

She ignores the acrobatics of her stomach, gives an unbothered shrug. “What about it?”

“I didn’t… I mean… Nothing happened. Between me and the woman Melshi mentioned.”

“It’s fine, I don’t care,” she says, jaw clenched tight, words barely making it past the lump in her throat. “Not my business.”

And she quickly turns and walks away, feels his eyes follow her into the dark…

There’s a knock at her door, soft but insistent, and Jyn sets aside the half-drunk bottle of liquor, regarding the shuttered entrance to her room from the steady surface of her bed. 

It’s only a few steps away, but right now it seems like hundreds, more than she truly wants to be bothered with. “Who is it?” she calls. “Can it wait till morning?”

There’s a pause, she thinks maybe the person has given up, or realized they knocked on the wrong door. “No,” Cassian says, voice muffled. 

She reaches under the mattress and pulls out a monitor, clicks it on to check the camera she had set up in the hallway to guard her room. He’s standing with his forehead pressed to the door, fist still resting where he had knocked. As she watches, he pushes himself away, takes a step back and fixes the barrier with a stare she cannot see enough to read the meaning of. 

Fine. Jyn hoists herself off the bed and slams her hand on the button to open the door, turning her back before she can see Cassian’s face and returning to her safe perch on the edge of her bed. 

He’s never been in her room before, she catches the intelligence officer in him stirring, eyes quickly scanning the area, absorbing what details there are to obtain from her few, scattered belongings. 

When he looks at her, she raises an eyebrow, challenging. “What?”

For a moment he only stares at her, a stare that makes her skin itch and her face warm, her fingers curling into the palm of her hand. When he finally speaks, he speaks quietly, “I care. I don’t want you to think I have eyes for…” 

“Cassian,” Jyn cuts in, “it’s late. I already told you I’m okay just–”

Something changes in his expression, some hint of frustration making itself known, and a soft growl of exasperation escapes him. 

Before Jyn can open her mouth again, Cassian has stepped forward, taken her face in his hands and planted a firm kiss on her lips. “I only want you,” he breathes, forehead pressed to hers, a hand still holding the back of her head. “If you really don’t care, that’s fine, but I need you to know, to understand, that for me? You’re it. Alright?”

Jyn finds herself no longer capable of lying. To herself or to him. 

She pulls Cassian back to her. 

“Good morning, sunshines,” Bodhi says cheerfully as Jyn and Cassian approach the table, plates piled high with what passes for ‘breakfast food’ on base. “Cass, we missed you the rest of the night, you never came back. Where’d you wander off to?

Cassian steals a quick glance at Jyn, taking note of her disheveled hair, imagining his might appear equally unkempt. She gives a slight, secret smirk meant just for him. “Nowhere,” he tells Bodhi, through a smile that mirrors Jyn’s. 

When it comes to Cassian Andor, Jyn still finds herself lying to others from time to time, but she concludes that it is a practice that is much more enjoyable when shared. 

[ikemenlibrary]

Journal Entries From Anya’s Diary - Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Vlad x Anya Nosferatu (OC)

Summary: History may have changed their story, but Anya’s diary never changes. Historians have named them the world’s most renowned couple, the setting stage for the modern day romance. This is a story of two beings who's fates easily intertwined with one another, and who were always destined to find each other, no matter how long it took to get them there. 

Meant to be read with this Spotify Playlist

Notes: This is my wishing a very happy birthday to @readerinsertfanfiction​. Nemo, it has been an absolute pleasure to get to know you over the past few months and I can’t wait to see how our friendship blossoms even more. I hope this next year is filled with plenty of happiness, and that all of your wishes come true. 

6th June, 1887

Today, Vlad took me to a bookstore. I thought the library he had in the castle was huge, but nothing other than Father’s collection compares to this shop. From the floor to the ceiling, it was filled to the brim with books. I couldn’t keep a smile off my face!

Despite my telling him not to, Vlad would load every book I even touched into a basket. At the end, I think we ended up with 37 books. I realized halfway through what he was doing, and so I stopped touching books I knew I’d have no interest in.

Now, Vlad’s promising that he’ll make sure to help start a library of my very own for me in the castle. He said he wants a place for me to call my own other than my bedroom. He said he’ll make sure it has big windows, and will overlook the garden. I am… very appreciative of all he’s done for me.

I don’t know how to repay him. Maybe I’ll go pick some fresh strawberries for him sometime.

13th June, 1887

Charles-Henri and I went into Paris today. He was bothering Vlad, so he was sent to pick up some groceries and asked me to tag along. When he complained about being hungry while shopping, I happily gave him one of the croissants from my pocket. Charles still hasn’t figured out how I do that, and I think he’s convinced I’ve got some sort of magic powers. Truth is, I hand sew new pockets into my skirts so that I have room for some food. I don’t know if it’s because growing up I wasn’t sure when my next meal was, or if I like to keep Charles and Faust guessing, or if it’s the fact that it’s nice to have something for impromptu tea parties at times, but it’s become a habit of mine now, and not one I intend to break.

Charles-Henri is the sort of brother I always wanted but never had. Out of everyone in the castle, he and I spend the most time together. When we wake up early in the morning, he always lets me help in the kitchen, despite the fact that I am so hopeless that I can burn a pot of water! He always laughs, ruffles my hair, and fixes whatever mistake I made.

I have gotten pretty good at slicing up strawberries, however. Before, I would end up slicing my thumb and ruining the bowl of strawberries  -  although, Vlad usually just rinsed them off and ate them anyways - but now, I can avoid slicing into any skin and have actually even been able to cut them up to look like pathetic little flowers. Vlad loves them, and I love seeing that smile on his face when I give them to him.

30th June, 1887

I think I’m driving Vlad crazy.

Faust keeps asking me to try his experiments. I go along with it, because I’m bored, and because I know nothing can kill me. Whenever I do try something that Faust hands to me, Vlad kind of just watches from afar. He has that gentle smile on his face, the one he usually has, but his eyes burn like fire and I know seeing me put myself in danger - although never life altering - is starting to get to him.

I think he cares more about me than he would like to admit.

I think I like the idea of that.

Faust just looks on between us in utter amusement when this happens now. I think he’s more interested in his hypothesis of me and Vlad, than he is with how my body reacts to his new concoctions. I’ve noticed he’s stopped taking notes every time I eat something, and instead sits and observes Vlad’s reactions.

Vlad never gives away much. I don’t even know how much Faust gets from watching all of this happen. What I do know is that it’s always enough for me to get silly butterflies in my stomach like I’m a schoolgirl with a crush.

Maybe I need to take a page from Faust and write all of this down as well. Conduct experiments to help me come to a conclusion about my feelings.

Will come back about that at a later time.

2nd July, 1887

We got an invitation in the mail today. An old friend of Vlad’s is throwing a ball for her 326th birthday. She invited Vlad, Charles-Henri, and Faust. I wasn’t on the invitation, but Vlad says that you’re always expected to bring a partner to events like this, so he asked me to come as his. As this was happening, Charles was pouting. I think he knows that if I end up going as Vlad’s partner, that he and I will not be able to sneak off to explore around and get drunk. That does sound tempting, but I accepted Vlad’s offer.

Something about showing up in a public setting as his partner just sounds so… inviting. I know that by his side, I will have a great time. I always do.

Vlad insisted on taking me to get a new gown for this ball. I told him that wasn’t necessary; I have plenty of nice things to wear. He brushed off my concerns, and we agreed to go into town tomorrow to a dress shoppe, and he promised to take me out to lunch afterwards.

I’m looking forward to spending this extra time with him.

12th July, 1887

The ball was wonderful. It was elegant, joyous, and filled with… romance! It was just like something out of one of the novels that Vlad purchased for me.

Vlad ordered two different carriages; one for him, Charles-Henri, and Faust. The other for me. He insisted he didn’t want to see me all dressed up before he was able to bow before me and ask me to dance. Charles informed me of this with a wicked grin on his face, almost like he knew of a secret he was keeping from me.

When I had arrived, Charles met me outside and escorted me out of my carriage, informing the staff at the front gates that I was Vlad’s partner. They bowed for me, and let Charles show me the way in. The music was already lively and there were couples twirling all around on the dance floor, yet I was barely able to glance at them before Vlad was standing in front of me.

He bowed, his gleaming eyes never left my face. If I had a heartbeat, I’m sure I would have heard it rushing in my ears.

It felt like a fairy tale.

Without even speaking, he held his hand out to me and I grasped it. And then he pulled me in, whisked me onto the dance floor and I had never felt more safe and loved than I ever had in that moment.

Before the last song played, Vlad pulled me in close, his lips brushed my ear and he admitted his love for me. Before I could respond, he started dancing again, our bodies even closer than we were before.

I’ll never forget that bright smile on his face as he finished the dance with one last vow. Nor will I forget the feel of his lips against mine in the carriage ride home.

12th July, 1987

100 years spent loving each other, and yet I still find more reasons every day to love him.

100 years spent loving each other, but it still feels like only 10.

I will never take this love for granted. For all we’ve been through, for all we’ve lost, for all we’ve gained, nothing will be as special as the bond we’ve built together.

In honor of our anniversary, Vlad had 100 blood red roses preserved into a picture frame and hung in our shared bedroom, right over the headboard of our bed. In my many centuries, this was one present I will be able to cherish forever, without worrying about it fading away with time.

Vlad is currently downstairs, all of the staff members of the Castle are being worked around like crazy while he tries to get the ballroom set up just the way he would like. While our dear friend is turning 426 years old today, he threw this party specifically to celebrate our century of love. We of course had to tell most people that we’re celebrating only a decade together, although even that seems hard to believe for some people, since we look so young.

He had the dress I wore on the night he confessed his love to me altered so it would fit in  during this day and age. Vlad said he wanted to relive that night the best he could.

I relive it every time I close my eyes. It still feels like almost yesterday.

Happy anniversary, my love. I’m hopeful for many more.

[monsieurdemon]

A late birthday thingy for Rainbow! There’s a photo all the way at the bottom by the way! P.S. the friends Rain mentioned will eventually be introduced! Also this was supposed to be a happy thing about Rainbow realizing that Christmas and their birthday wasn’t a bad thing. But NOPE! Let me know what you think!

There aren’t any comments from the others, it’s just Rainbow’s thoughts.

“Happy birthday Rainbow!!!”

Is the first thing I hear waking up before the warmth of my blankets is ripped away. Quite cruel If you ask me.

“Oi! Ya mind acknowledging us, we did wish ya a happy birthday after all-OW YOU LITTLE SHI- QUIT WITH THOSE DAMN TEETH”

I of course still haven’t opened my eyes, but what have I opened? By my dear brother’s kind words, I’m sure you can guess! That’s right! What I opened instead of my eyes was my jaw! Then I closed it, around Pyro’s arm!

“Stop with the biting, Rain! Pyro won’t be the only one mad after all! And Kai can be pretty scary…”

Was the next thing I heard. I stopped biting after Sparkie said that. Out of the three of us I think I might be the only one who’s seen Kai truely mad.

You see any other day it wouldn’t be a problem being woken up! It’s just today that’s the issue. I knew I’d be dealing with this. I asked them to leave me be, I don’t like my birthday and they know that! But noooo “It’s your birthday and you should be happy about it” As if I’d ever be happy about waking up. But I’ll try and deal with it, just until I can run off for the rest of the day. Because my birthday isn’t for my enjoyment it’s for theirs.

“Fine, fine. Tell me then, what do you have in store for me today? Wait! Let me guess! Are we gonna get ice cream?” I say trying to sound enthusiastic. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t convincing enough based on the frowns on my brothers’ faces. I wasn’t joking about the ice cream though.

“C’mon pup! Try and be a little excited! It’s your birthday, it only happens once a year!” Pyro scolds me. Like I don’t hear this every year from him.

“Fine! Jeez, at least get out so I can change!” Finally I get some quiet! One of the reasons I don’t like my birthday is that it falls on the same day as a holiday called “Chrysler”? At least it snows on my birthday.

As soon as I’m ready I head out of my cozy, safe room. I already feel sick the moment I see Kai with a present. Please please please get me out of this situation, I feel like I’m going to puke.

“Happy birthday kiddo” is Kai’s greeting. The hug he gives me makes me feel a little bit better. I thank him, and give him the best smile I can. I hope it was able to convince him I feel ok.

Moments later I’m pushed out of the house and ushered through a portal. No! Please why?! As soon as I’m out I’m surrounded by people, so so many people. Not even my friends. Why couldn’t I be with them right now? Looking up at Sparkie he says something to me, but why can’t I hear him? Why’s he waving? Wait, no! Don’t leave me by myself here! Kai’s gone too, and Pyro. There are too many people, they’re all saying stuff to me. I still can’t hear them.

Maybe my friends are here! Maybe there are to many people for me to tell! I just need to look for them! If they’re here everything will be fine.

It’s been ages, I haven’t seen anyone I know. Where’s my family? I don’t know anyone here. When was the last time I saw a familiar face? It was hard enough to focus on anything but everything is getting blurrier. I can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe. Why can’t I breathe? Why can’t I hear? Why is everything so blurry? I’m scared. I know I’m too old to be scared but I’m terrified. I feel coldness everywhere, why am I so cold? My face feels wet, I think I might be crying? Fuck! Stop it! Stop it! Please stop crying! You’re going to draw attention to yourself! Calm down, Rainbow! There are eyes on me I can tell, please stop staring at me.

.

.

.

“-lo? C’mon, wake up please?”

Huh? I can breathe again? And the cold is gone? I still can’t see though? Wait hold on, my eyes are closed. Why are my eyes closed? I open them, and am immediately pulled into a hug.

“You’re ok! Thank the gods! You scared us to death!”

Is…is that Kai? Kai’s back? I wasn’t left behind? His face finally comes into focus. Why does he look so worried? Did I do something wrong?

“You just fainted out of nowhere! Jeez what the heck happened? We left for 20 minutes!” Sparkie complains.

Suddenly Kai, Sparkie, and Pyro are all hugging me. Someone ruffles my hair and then all three leave. I just realized I’m back in my room. And there’s a pile of boxes in the corner? Did they leave to get me those? Dammit now I’m crying again! Maybe this day isn’t too bad, just as long as they don’t leave me by myself again.

[frizzle-tales]

Sniffles escaped from her as she sat on the counter, frozen and with her head hung low.

This man was fucking crazy. Absolutely out of his mind.

Jiyeon thought that this was it, he’d patch her up and leave her alone but she was awfully wrong.

A soft whine left her lips at the liquid burning into the fresh cut, and before she answered Taehyung’s questions, she made sure to think this through.

“Uhm…” She looked down at her lap, avoiding his intimidating gaze.

There was no telling what he would do if she answered this question wrong.

“I wasn’t a good host to your friend… I made a mess and I wasn’t paying attention like I should have.” Jiyeon hoped that would satisfy him for now.

At his next question, she shook her head. “No… no sir, I won’t.” Even though Jiyeon was convinced that according to Taehyung’s rules, she wouldn’t be able to promise this — Taehyung would surely find something to discipline her for again. But it wasn’t like she had a choice but to comply and nod along to his wishes.

A shiver ran through her back as his whispers brushed against his ear.

“I understand.” She nodded before Taehyung guided her off the counter and brought her to her bed.

A luxurious sofa that she probably would never be able to afford in her life.

That night, Jiyeon curled up in the thick duvet, facing her abductor with her back as she closed her eyes, and surprisingly, she drifted off to sleep shortly after — waking up here and there at night, remembering how she wasn’t safe at home but in the house with her kidnapper.

The next morning, Taehyung awoken the girl, and it seemed that the man wouldn’t allow the poor girl to sleep in to escape from this living nightmare she was in.

After getting freshened up and dressed, Jiyeon was guided downstairs where she was expected to make breakfast.

“Yeah, sure…” She murmured as she made her way to the counter and stopped in front of it, wondering what she should make. First, she decided to check the fridge, taking out some ingredients.

— 🎙

Once the clock striked 6 a.m. on the dot, Taehyung’s eyes peeled open before he kicked his legs over the edge of the bed. After shutting off the vibrating alarm, he glanced towards Jiyeon — who hardly even stirred at the noise. 

She looked peaceful. Not exactly comfortable, but quite at ease. Her body language was nothing but relaxed while her chest slowly rose and fell with every breath.

“Oh Jiyeonnie..” Striding towards the make shift bed, Taehyung pulled back the duvet just enough until he uncovered her arm before latching on, yanking her to sit up. “Rise and shine, sweetheart.” His hand switched from her arm to her chin, tilting it up so he could see her dopey eyes. “The early bird catches the worm, isn’t that the saying?” With a grin, he leaned in ever so slightly. “You can start the day by making your bed.”

Dropping her chin, Taehyung left the cuff secured to her ankle as he started his typical morning routine. Once he was dressed — and the sofa was tidied to his satisfaction — she was then given the chance to do the same. 

“After breakfast, I’d like for us to give your grandparents a call. Which reminds me.. that will be your job this morning. Cooking breakfast, if you were confused.” The deranged man informed with a firm hand on the girl’s back, leading her straight into the kitchen. “No touching the cookbooks, I don’t want you using them today. But I’m sure you’re just fine with that, aren’t you?”

Yeah, sure… Her fucking response.

Didn’t she want to start the day on the right foot? Why was it so hard for her to use manners?

Maybe this girls needs him more than he originally thought.

Before Jiyeon could walk away, Taehyung gripped onto her arm, digging his nails in before pulling her closer. “This is your first and only strike today, have I made myself clear? You’re lucky I’m feeling generous this morning, because I have no problem with cutting my name into your skin over and over again until you learn how to be polite …”

After letting her take in — fully process — his words, Taehyung went straight to making himself a coffee, although always keeping a watchful eye on her.

“Ah ah,” He suddenly tsked, leaning against the counter after taking a brief sip. “Why don’t you start with the dishes you didn’t finish last night? I’m sure you’re aware it’s not good to cook in a dirty kitchen.. or am I mistaken? Were you not taught that?”

[montagu3]

What one of my issues are you?

Depression

Everyday I wake up submerged in cement that’s nearly dry. I have to pull and push against the edges, fighting against the suffocating grip until I’m finally sitting on the edge of the bed. I open my eyes to see my drab reality and I’m ready to go back to bed. I don't want to shake off and peel away the pieces of cement that stuck to me. The casting separates me, muffling the voices of others and masking the monster that gnaws at my core. You’re tired. You’ve been holding onto a rope in the overcast waves, in the relentless churn of water. You could pull yourself in, maybe, but you don’t want to. The water is comforting, even when it cascades over you and you think you’re finally going to drown. You didn’t even have to drop the rope. It wasn’t your fault.

Possible Psychosis (undiagnosed)

A voice of a loved one comes from behind me, telling me how I should do it. I know it’s not real, but I let them talk anyway. Time is a slippery eel, wriggling out of my grasp with every attempt to hold onto it. It moves erratically, twisting and contorting until yesterday bleeds into tomorrow and today is lost in the chaos. The maggots eat me in my dreams even though I let them know I’m not dead yet. I know I’m not dead, I have to remind myself every night, but it never stops the maggots. I repeat the mantra like a prayer, a desperate attempt to rid the maggots that are eating the last sane parts of me. But with each repetition, the line between reality and hallucination blurs until I’m no longer sure which is which. I’m greasy and soaked in my own sweat, the stench of decay clinging to me like a second skin. I'll have to shower and change the covers before I can go back to the dirt. You need something to be wrong with you. It has to be some type of outside force, an unseen hand guiding the puppet strings of your existence. If it is you (and you alone), it means that there’s no chance for redemption or normalcy. It means that the maggots will never rest in the grave with you because you’ll never be dead. And so, you cling to the illusion of external influence, a disease, a psychosis, a fragile lifeline in the maelstrom of your madness.

Abuse (from others)

I try to hide in plain sight until the time I can move out, navigating each day with a carefully constructed facade of normalcy. Behind closed doors, I wrestle with the memories that haunt me, the echoes of pain reverberating through every fiber of my being. I attempt to subdue any inch of care that I still hold onto, burying it beneath layers of self-preservation, yet inevitably, something small will peek through, a glimmer of vulnerability that they'll seize upon as an opportunity to inflict more harm. I'm not invincible. Despite my best efforts to convince myself otherwise, the wounds of being drugged, touched, and hurt by those I once trusted have left indelible marks on my psyche. It's as if they've carved out pieces of my soul, leaving me feeling fragmented and lost. I can pretend that it hasn't changed core parts of me, that it hasn't eroded my sense of self, but the truth is undeniable. I am wounded and it hurts. I cling to the fragments of myself that remain, determined to reclaim what was taken from me, one shattered piece at a time. Most of the shards fall through the gaps in my fingers. You can resonate with that. It doesn’t have to be anything big (if it is, I’m sorry, I really am), but it still tore the same hole inside of you. It took something from you, something precious and irreplaceable, and now you're left grappling with the aftermath, trying to piece yourself back together in a world that feels irreparably broken. Keep holding on and keep pulling. I hope you can get it back.

Abuse (from myself)

Hurt becomes the balm for the ever-aching hole inside of me, a void that seems insatiable. With each added hurt, I find solace, as if I'm closing another small hole of Tartarus, where a piece of me was imprisoned by my own transgressions. Why I ended up in Tartarus, I don’t know; perhaps I committed some unforgivable sin, or maybe I simply exist as a vessel for suffering. Regardless, I know I belong, it’s woven into the fabric of my being. As I navigate this labyrinth, I don’t know which will come first: when my body inevitably gives out or the eventual closure of each festering wound inside of me. The prospect of release from Tartarus terrifies me. There's a comfort I can’t find elsewhere in the hurt. Whether the pain is self-inflicted or delivered by the hands of others, it serves as a reminder of my existence, a validation of my worthlessness. You, like me, share a perverse communion with pain. Maybe it’s the guilt and self-loathing that make you seek absolution through hurt. Or, maybe, it’s a subconscious desire for punishment, cemented by your believed unworthiness. The only question is, do you know what you did to deserve your own personal Tartarus?

Obsession

The old Christmas lights that light the depths of my mind come alive in a way that they never do. They throb with the pressure of my heart, my gut thrills and I feel. I’m going to win this war, regardless of the cost. Obsession is passionate, it’s one of the only (usually) non-malicious things that remind me that I’m alive. But with every flicker of light, there's a shadow lurking in the corners, threatening to engulf me in its darkness. Like a moth to a flame, I'm drawn deeper into the allure of my obsession, unable to tear my gaze away even as it consumes me from within. Every thought, every action becomes consumed by the object of my fixation, distorting my perception of reality until it's unrecognizable. The highs of euphoria are matched only by the crushing lows of despair when reality comes crashing down around me. It's tearing me apart and slowly eroding my sense of identity. I yearn for someone to share this intensity of my passion, to see me as I see them. But the bitter sting of unrequited longing only serves to deepen my sense of inadequacy and isolation. Each rejection feels like a dagger to the heart, reinforcing the fact that I am inherently undesirable and unworthy of love. God, you want to be wanted, no matter how much you believe you’re undesirable. That same hunger you pour into your passion projects, you long for someone to reciprocate that fervor towards you. It's a yearning that, if fulfilled, could make you feel complete. That you would die happy with. But deep down, I believe you don't seek death; rather, you crave the raw intensity of emotions that obsession ignites. I hope in your passion you don't succumb to despair but instead learn to navigate the intricate maze of desire, emerging on the other side with your humanity intact. May you embrace that insatiable hunger, finding purpose amidst the chaos that surrounds you.

Burnout

Although the light is already out, the whirring of the electricity never stops ringing. The light I produced stopped hitting the earth lightyears ago and the only thing still present is the decaying of my final form, a reminder of what once was and can never be reclaimed. As I languish in this state of deterioration, the relentless drone of the machinery persists, a haunting soundtrack to my descent into oblivion, into the void of nothingness. There was a time when greatness seemed within reach, you had potential, but now it feels like a distant memory, a ghost of your former self haunting the corridors of your mind. The picture you painted was that of the classics, but now you’re one of the starving artists. Every day, you pass by the remnants of my aspirations, your painting, you’re reminded of what could have been—a masterpiece left incomplete, a dream left unfulfilled. With each passing moment, the chasm between your former self and your current reality widens, stretching further into the depths of uncertainty. Is it better to continue grasping at the fading embers of your former glory, or to come to terms with the fact that you may never reclaim that lost brilliance?

[united-under-skyfall]

.

i work 6am-2:30pm. i go home and go to sleep. i wake up at 6, eat dinner, try not to fall asleep. at 9, i go to sleep again. 13 hours later, i wake up, and spend the next 12 trying not to fall asleep. i am so tired i could cry. i want to. i'm thinking about it. i should not be, because i should not be tired. i have slept so much, i am sick of it. i want nothing more than to close my eyes and drift away forever and ever. i want nothing more than to never sleep again. there is a war inside me, but i am too tired to fight it. there is never going to be a victor. i work 10pm-6am. the whole time, i am so, so awake, and very aware that i could be doing anything at all with this time, with this energy and will and consciousness that has become utterly unfamiliar to me, but instead am falling into a monotonous routine in a half-dark, nearly empty building, racing the clock, tearing at my hair, reminding my co-worker who hasn't slept to drink her coffee. i go home, back by 6:40, and there is something like hope there, that i can do something, anything. i can make breakfast, i can greet my family and talk with them for what feels like the first time in ages as they slowly get ready for the day. but i am not hungry. they all have early appointments today, and are gone by 7. i am alone in a half-dark building (why does this feel familiar), and for the next hour i read, and for the next, i read and try not to fall asleep, and for the next i try to read and try harder not to fall asleep, and by 10 i'm there again. i wake up at 5, try not to fall back asleep, eat dinner, try not to fall back asleep. i stand in the kitchen and do nothing at all. "you work at 6 tomorrow," my dad reminds me. "i don't want to go to bed," i answer. "you need to," he tells me. "it feels like all i do these days is sleep." please hear, i am begging you. please hear, i don't know what's happening, what's been happening for years and years. please hear, i need your advice. please hear, i need a hug. please hear, i don't know what i'm doing. please hear, this is a cry for help. it is the only one i know how to give. "you have been sleeping a lot," he responds, and leaves saying nothing more. i do not scream, even though i want to. did he not hear? when is it that we stopped speaking the same language? i wait for 10 before i can give myself permission to let go and sleep again. i wake up at 3am because i work at 6 and i have chores to do first, snooze my alarm, fall back asleep. i wake up at 3:05, 3:10, 3:15, again and again and i want to weep. i wake up at 4:15 and actually manage to convince myself of it this time. it is not a happy conclusion. i only have time to do a few of the chores i was supposed to before i need to leave, struggling to stay awake all the while. i drive back to work and the road is empty. i think about just driving straight, beyond the road, beyond the horizon, about never stopping, about how maybe that would be almost as good as being back in bed. i arrive and it feels like i never even got the chance to leave in the first place. my hands are sluggish as they work, my legs protesting against my wishes for them to move faster. my thoughts are delayed, my words don't come out on time, and when they do, they don't come out right. my entire being is collapsing in on itself like a black hole. i cannot keep doing this. i don't know what "this" is. i want to sleep even though i know it will do nothing to ease this. i cannot remember the last time i was not exhausted at every level of my being. i think i miss it. i don't remember it well enough to know for sure.

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one with Victoria’s boobs

Description | Victoria needs help taping her boobs for an upcoming performance. You get more than you bargained for.

Content | fluff

Pairing | Victoria x gn!Reader

Word Count | 2420

Some situations in life simply could not be dealt with without a strong cup of coffee. Heading out to an exam, waking up to a text from that ex who still grinds your gears, missing your train, and being late for work ... You, however, thought you were doing fine today, mood high and excited for the day ahead. You had slept in and left the hotel at a reasonable time. You’d do what you loved - make-up - and then watch the band play a kickass show. No additional kick needed to pump you up or help you deal with the hours ahead. You changed your mind the second you opened the dressing room door and came face to face with Victoria's tits. Actually - scratch that - you would need a drink to deal with this.

"Y/n! Finally! I need you, come here." While Victoria's face brightened up considerably as her eyes met yours, a smile spreading on her gorgeous lips, you could feel your cheeks heating up. She didn't seem to notice or mind, instead grabbing your hand and dragging you further into the room. Your bag slid off your shoulder, unceremoniously hitting the ground and staying there, forgotten and in the way. "If Damiano keeps ripping off the tape one more time to readjust, he's going to take my nipple off."

"Hey!" He objected. "I'm just trying to improve your boobs, lady!"

"You can't improve perfection, Damiano."

The bickering gave you a moment to evaluate the scene before you. The dressing room was a mess, clothes everywhere and a stylist bustling around, trying to keep the damage to a minimum. Ethan was currently admiring his reflection in the mirror, hands running through his hair, while Thomas kept rummaging around the chaos. And right before your eyes, Victoria, in satin trousers but topless, with Damiano still trying to fix the cross he had put across her left nipple, as Vic kept slapping his hand away.

"Honestly, babe, I need you," she pleaded as your eyes managed to remove themselves from her bare chest and met hers instead. "I can't do it myself because when I try to do it in the mirror it looks weird when I put my arms down. And Damiano just about managed one cross that doesn't look wonky as hell after about 43 attempts."

"I did not need 43 attempts! I was just trying to -"

"Stop it!" Vic slapped his hand away once more, harshly enough for the sound to echo. "Go gel your hair or something, I've got Y/n now."

"I'm your make-up artist, not -" You didn't quite know how to finish your sentence. You weren't what? Victoria's personal boob inspector? Professional nipple-taper?

"Exactly, which means you've got an eye for aesthetic, so please put this tape on me."

You couldn't refuse Vic either way. Not when she was staring at you with those impossibly blue eyes, silently begging for your help. With a sigh, you grabbed the tape out of her hand, slowly unrolling a bit. You had only known her for a little while, but well enough to be aware that she wouldn't back down. Vic was already reaching for a pair of scissors, but you were quicker, tearing the piece of tape off with your teeth.

"Sexy, but scary," Victoria concluded. "But mainly sexy."

You didn't have the mental capacity to deal with what she had just said. Actually, you didn't have the capacity to deal with what you were about to do, but that was a pill you'd simply have to swallow. You hoped your shaky fingers weren't giving you away, as you crouched to eye-level with Vic's boob.

You had never much thought about the feminine beauty of a naked woman's chest before, but your current angle was making you question all your past convictions.

Maybe you were into girls after all.

Maybe you were just into Victoria. It was a thought that had been lingering in the back of your mind for a while now.

As your fingers lightly touched her skin, careful to get the placement just right, she flinched. You looked up, gazes meeting, and for a second there was something in her eyes you couldn't quite pinpoint, but it was gone before you had a chance to reflect on it. Instead, she giggled, "It's way too hot for your hands to be this cold."

Way too hot indeed.

You tried to make quick work of the task ahead and not to stare at her breasts too intently. Not to touch her soft skin too obviously. Not to let your beating heart get the better of you.

"I knew you'd get it perfectly!" Victoria exclaimed, turning towards the mirror and examining her now partly covered boobs. "You just got that kind of eye, Y/n. Thank you so much."

She had thrown her arms around you before you could react. It shouldn't have come as much of a surprise, Vic always being a rather touchy person by nature, but this time she was half-naked, her chest pressed against your shirt. Your arms carefully wrapped around her back, briefly letting yourself enjoy the feeling of silk-like skin under your fingertips, then quickly letting go and taking a step back. Your heart had gone from beating to straight-up racing. You were in so much trouble.

"I'll just put on the rest of my outfit and then you can do my make-up, yeah?" Her eyes shone at you in gradients you hadn't seen before. All you could do was nod dumbly, knowing that nothing was ever going to be the same again.

***

You hadn't meant to go out drinking with the band, you really really hadn't, yet here you were, sitting in a dark corner of some trendy bar in the middle of Berlin, trying to duck out of every video they filmed for Instagram and sipping on your drink. The mood was euphoric and everyone kept singing along to the songs playing in the background, but you kept to yourself. Your mind was still spinning with images of Victoria, memories of her skin on yours, and the fact that she was standing in front of you right now didn’t help. She was beauty personified.

“Y/n! Dance with me!” Victoria pulled you out of my thoughts as she pulled you up into a standing position.

“Vic, no one is dancing in this bar.”

“So?”

She had never been much impressed with what other people were doing. You quickly downed the rest of your drink, handing the glass to Damiano, who sent you a conspicuous wink. Whatever that was supposed to mean. You were still standing a little awkwardly when Victoria took your hand and twirled you around, a heavy slap to the bum hitting you while your back was towards her.

“Come on, Y/n, let loose!”

The shock of her actions only lasted a split second, before you broke out into giggles and let her pull you further into her. Her arms wrapped around your neck, trying to move you to a beat that was much too fast to be this close and entangled. You didn’t mind. Hell, you decided, you would never mind anything she did to you ever again. You didn’t even take notice of Damiano, Ethan, and Thomas dancing along around you, too focused on the way Vic was holding you and pressing you against herself. You couldn’t tell anymore if the elation you were feeling was because of the drink you’ve had or because she was looking at you the way she was. In the heat of the moment, you pushed a strand of her from her face, fingers lightly trailing along her cheek. Her mouth was on yours in an instant, pressing a bold kiss against your lips, but it was over before it started and suddenly her body wasn’t pushed up against yours anymore and you felt lost and cold. Victoria was now slinging her arms around Thomas’ neck instead, leaving a similar kiss on him, before giving Ethan and Damiano the same treatment.

Your heart couldn’t decide if it wanted to keep beating or start breaking.

***

The next days were pure torture. It didn’t help that Victoria had developed a newfound love for going bra-less - and an appreciation for you taping her up. Her behaviour wasn’t much better. You bent over to pick something up? Slap on the butt. She walked by you? No way she wasn’t going to brush past you in some way. Sitting on the couch? She was cuddled up to you in a heartbeat, face mushed into your neck, her breath softly tickling your skin.

Pure torture.

It all came crashing down the night Victoria decided to shake up the hotel room arrangement. She would usually room with Damiano, while you shared with other members of the team that worked behind the scenes. Until you were all gathered in the lobby of your hotel for the night and she loudly announced she was sick of listening to Damiano snore every night - “What the hell, I’ve never snored in my life?!” - and instead was going to sleep with you. Sleep with you. You didn’t miss the looks and snickers of the others as she phrased it exactly like that.

You didn’t have a choice, really. You simply weren’t the type of person to protest - and Vic knew. So you followed her up in the elevator, down the corridor, and into the room like a lovesick puppy, internally debating whether you were dreading this or looking forward to it. As soon as you had both dropped your luggage, she disappeared into the bathroom without another word. You didn’t miss the fact that she did not even attempt to close the door.

Two single beds. You breathed a sigh of relief. No awkward there-was-only-one-bed situation. Or maybe you felt a bit of disappointment. Maybe- No. This needed to stop. You were going crazy. You were supposed to do a job on this promo tour, be professional, maybe make friends with the band if you were lucky, but instead, you were falling deeper and deeper and it all ended with the fact that you had never felt this way about anyone else. It pained you to think that Victoria wasn’t feeling the same. And she definitely wasn’t - you were sure of that. She was a flirty person, she liked to touch and kiss those around her, but none of it went deeper than that. And you were going to have to accept it for what it was.

You were still in the middle of convincing yourself of not feeling anything more than friendship for Victoria when she emerged from the bathroom. Wearing nothing but a pair of panties. It was in that moment you knew you would never get over her.

“VIc, you need to stop doing this.”

Her face fell immediately, going from overly cheeky - which seemed to be her default expression these days - to genuinely concerned. Concerned, and confused. She was by your side in an instant, holding you by your upper arms, seemingly searching your face for answers.

“Do what?”

The direct question was filled with a softness that almost brought tears to your eyes. For a second you contemplated taking it back, changing the topic, and ignoring how emotionally draining the past days had been, but one look into her eyes told you that you needed to be honest with her. Now or never.

“You need to stop touching me. You need to stop riling me up at every opportunity, you need to stop teasing me and brushing up against me because-” The words seemed trapped in your throat. Victoria had moved away, immediately adhering to your request to stop touching you and you hated it. You wanted her hands back on you, you wanted all of her on you. One more deep breath. “Because I cannot stop thinking about kissing you. And I’m not talking about a little friendly peck. I’m talking about kissing the ever-loving shit out of you now and forever.”

It happened so fast. Victoria was on you before you had even finished your last words, lips pressed to yours in a heated and hurried manner, arms wrapping around you to press her body against yours. You reacted as if on autopilot, as if your body knew what to do simply because it had been waiting for it. Your hands tangled themselves in her hair as you responded eagerly to her kiss, before running them down her cheeks and to her neck.

This was nothing like the time she kissed you in the bar in Berlin. That time didn’t even come close to what was happening now. If your heart had been beating before, it was pounding out of your chest now. You thought that for as long as she promised to put her mouth on yours anytime you asked, you would be invincible.

The kiss ended rather slowly. A few pecks and staying close, breath fanning on each other’s faces, eyes still shut for a while until you two managed to separate. Victoria’s smirk was back, tenfold and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Imagined anything like that?”

“You know I did,” you admitted, feeling slightly shy all of a sudden.

“Honestly, though,” Vic said, brushing your hair from your face in the most tender motion. “I’m sorry I put you in a weird position. I think my way of flirting just didn’t work on you.”

“Oh, it worked alright,” you laughed. “I just wasn’t sure you meant it that way. Especially when you kissed me that night and then proceeded to kiss everyone.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t clever. I think I was just scared because you didn’t react so I tried to play it off.”

Victoria pushed another kiss onto your lips, sweet and short and full of reassurance, then promptly hugging you with a force that sent both of you tumbling onto one of the beds. Laughing with all your heart, you pushed her off you but made sure she never strayed too far. You couldn’t help but be amused at the state you were both in, faces heated up and giggly, you fully clothed while Victoria was still lounging in nothing but a pair of black panties.

“For God’s sake, Victoria put some clothes on,” you mocked her, even though you both knew there was no reason for you to mind it anymore.

“You know, I think it’s quite fitting,” she contemplated instead. “It started and ended with my boobs out.”

[thatrandomwriter]

Rooftop Romance

merle x reader

warnings: swearing, gore, sexual language

“You sure he’s worth it?” T-Dog asked, skepticism written across his face.

“Him and Daryl are our best hunters. They may both share about three brain cells, and Merle is about the biggest asshole I’ve ever met-“

“Hey, fuck you,” Merle cut in. I ignored him.

“But the fact is we need them to survive. We’ll make it out of the city, but you need to go before the others leave without you,”

T-Dog looked conflicted, but after a few seconds he dashed out of the door, racing down the stairs. I pulled the door shut, locking it behind him. There was a strong chance that I had just ensured my own death as well as Merle’s. The sound of the dead beating on the door almost as soon as T-Dog had left seemed to give Merle the same idea.

“Well fucking come on then princess, I ain’t getting any younger over here.” He had that god awful smirk plastered across his face. “You know, there’s a lot I can do with these hands. Maybe I can show ya once I’m free,” he made a crude gesture with his cuffed hand.

“Maybe if you didn’t say shit like that all the time, someone might actually wanna fuck you. You’re disgusting, you know that?”

Instead of waiting for his no-doubt even worse reply, I walked over to see what had been left in Dale’s toolbox. It was mostly screwdrivers and spanners, nothing of any use to me, but I noted a hammer and most importantly a hacksaw. Hopefully it would be strong enough to get through the metal of Merle’s handcuff.

“Call me disgusting all ya like, everyone knows you want a piece of this,”

My cheeks grew hot and I fumbled the saw, almost dropping it as I walked over to him. It was a humiliating feeling to know that he was right. To know that despite what a piece of shit he was, over the few weeks I’d known him, I had developed some form of feelings for him. Merle had found me while out checking the camp’s perimeter with Shane. Having just escaped the city, I was exhausted and terrified, and just about ready to collapse on the forest floor and give up. Of course, Merle’s reasoning for taking me back likely had more to do with wanting to fuck me than anything else, but I wasn’t entirely convinced that Shane would have taken me back if Merle hadn’t been there to bear witness. We weren’t exactly close, but we shared a fondness for drinking and he taught me a few things about using a crossbow. I didn’t fool myself into thinking he wanted anything more than a one time fling with me; he flirted with just about anything with tits. But some small, stupid part of me still hoped for more.

I sat next to him, pulling his hand toward me to get a better look at the handcuffs. When I looked up, he was staring into my face with another stupid grin. I sent him a glare back.

“Come on now, don’t be like that. Last I checked we’re all alone up here, no-one needs to know, part from maybe a few walkers,”

“Would you quit it? I’m trying to save your life.”

“Jus’ trying to lighten the mood. You should really try lightening up sometime, wouldn’t kill ya,”

I rolled my eyes, corner of my mouth twitching upwards slightly.

“Looks like cutting through the cuffs is gonna be a no go, but this pipe you’ve been cuffed too looks pretty old. It’s worth a try at least,” I lined up Dale’s saw, and began working at the metal.

“So I’m gonna be stuck with a friendship bracelet from Officer Friendly?”

The thought made me laugh a little.

“It’s not like you don’t deserve it; threatening everyone with a gun wasn’t exactly your best moment.” I teased. In his defence, he had most definitely been high as a kite when he’d started pointing the gun. Not that that really made it any better.

“I wasn’t gunna shoot em. Definitely wasn’t gunna shoot you, ya far too beautiful,” Merle said.

“And so’s Andrea, right? And Lori, and Jackie, and every other woman who isn’t trying to eat us,”

“I dunno, some of those walkers ain’t too bad,”

I hit him on the shoulder.

“Can’t I make a joke? Or are ya gunna get jealous, hmm?”

I stopped talking to him after that, focusing instead on trying to make any headway with the pipe he was handcuffed to. After an hour or so, I had only made a tiny dent in the metal. Merle was getting increasingly annoying, and the sun was starting to slowly set in the sky. If we wanted to leave today I’d have to hurry; travelling the city in the dark was a death sentence. At least the walkers at the rooftop door seemed to have given up, or gotten distracted by some other unfortunate souls. They had stopped pounding on the door some time ago.

The saw blade bent slightly, but I persisted, determined to succeed, speeding up. Under the strain of my sawing, the blade bent sideways, and suddenly snapped under the pressure, coming clattering to the floor.

“The fuck did you do?” Merle demanded.

“The blade wasn’t strong enough. It couldn’t get through the pipe. I’m sorry.” I felt suddenly numb. I couldn’t look at him. I’d failed. I’d failed him. He was stuck here, to starve or to be eaten by walkers.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m gonna fucking die up here, god fucking damnit. Look at me, the fuck did you do?” He grabbed my shoulder with his free hand, gripping me hard, shaking me, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” It was one of the first serious, genuine things I’d said to Merle, and it was a death sentence. Tears pricked my eyes. I didn’t have the energy to hide them.

“No. Fuck that, we’re ain’t done yet. You got a knife, right?” He was still staring into my face, but desperate anger had shifted to urgency.

“Yes, but it won’t cut through metal,” I said.

His grim expression told me that he had already figured that out.

“You can’t be serious. You want me to- I can’t,” There had to be another way.

“You got no choice. It’s my hand or my life.”

It took me a few seconds to process this. The only way out would be to cut off his hand. And I would have to be the one to do it.

“Fine. But I’ll do it first thing in the morning. We don’t have time to get out of the city before it gets dark, and I don’t want you bleeding out overnight.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you cared about me,” His shit eating grin was back. Only Merle could look this smug after discovering his hand was about to be cut off.

“Good job you know better then,” I smiled and sat next to him, looking out over the darkening city. At least we were stuck somewhere with an impressive view. The setting sun sent orange streaking through the sky, bathing buildings in a warm glow. I glanced to my side. Merle appeared to also be taking in the sunset in a rare moment of silence.

*

“I’d do the same for you ya know,” Merle said, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

“No you wouldn’t.” I replied. It wasn’t something that upset me, it was just a fact - if the roles were reversed, I had doubts that Merle would have stayed on this rooftop even for Daryl.

“Course I would. Yer one of the only people I can stand in that group, not to mention ya got a mighty fine ass,” He grinned over at me. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“You mean it?”

“Yeah, course I do. I could stare at it all day,”

I hit his shoulder with mine.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I ain’t good with the mushy stuff, don’t push it,” He was still smiling, eyes looking into mine for once instead of straying to glance down my shirt.

“Sounds like you care about me, Merle. More than you usually let on at least,” I was teasing him but this moment meant a lot; in short, Merle was shit at showing anyone affection. For him, this was like a declaration of love.

“Yer not gonna make me say it again so drop it,” he huffed.

“I’m just kidding around. And I didn’t just stay here because you’re a good hunter,” I confessed, staring pointedly into the distance to avoid his eyes.

“Course ya didn’t, ain’t no way you’d let me die without getting a piece of this,” It seemed to be his way of lightening the mood, diverting the seriousness of the conversation.

“We should get some sleep, busy day tomorrow.”

*

When the hot sun awoke me the next morning, I found myself nestled into Merle’s side, head on his shoulder, his free arm wrapped around me. I took a moment to enjoy the feeling of his broad body against mine, before pulling away to wake him up. The sooner we were gone, the better.

“Mornin’ “ he grinned lazily.

“You ready?” I asked, and his expression dropped to one of determined focus.

“As I’ll ever be,”

I retrieved my knife and a lighter from one of the pockets of my rucksack. It would have to do as a means of sanitising the blade as I had very little in the way of medical supplies. Shrugging off the button down I wore over a tank top, I folded it ready to use as a bandage for Merle. I could have sworn his eyes slipped down to my cleavage, far more noticeable now the shirt was off, but I wasn’t in the mood to bring it up.

“Can I have your belt?” I asked.

“Don’t need to ask me twice,” He said, the implied innuendo obvious. He unbuckled it with his free hand and tugged it loose.

I strapped it around his forearm, tight as I could make it, a makeshift tourniquet that would hopefully do something to stop the bleeding. It had to be enough.

Merle reached inside his pocket, and withdrew a small bag of white powder.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” I asked, very aware of the dangers we’d face in the city even if he survived losing his hand. Merle being off his face wouldn’t do us any favours.

��Need a little somethin’ to take the edge off,” He tried to form his usual smug grin, but his mouth wavered slightly. I nodded. Who was I to make that decision for him?

I gave him a minute or so, and when he nodded at me, I took my knife to his wrist and began to cut. There was far more blood than I had thought. And despite Merle’s best efforts to remain stoic, and the effects of the drugs, he was in an unbelievable amount of pain. I had to fight the urge to just give up and cry in a corner, but I did it for him. Even when he begged me to stop, to just make the pain stop. His yelling had begun to attract walkers, a few were banging on the rooftop door and the longer this took the more there would be. He gripped my arm as I cut, hard enough to bruise.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I muttered over and over again as I finished, his hand dropping to the floor with a sickening thunk.

Merle was breathing heavily, gasping through the pain. I pressed my shirt against the wound, tying it tightly and leaving the belt in place. There was so much blood. On my hands, my pants, the rooftop.

“Stay there. I’m going to clear the stairwell, I’ll be right back.”

He nodded.

I unlocked the door and wedged my foot under the door to prevent it opening all the way, a walker slamming forward and right onto my knife. It slumped to the floor. Another was quick to take its place. I worked my way through several before they finally stopped coming. Hopefully only a few had been close enough to hear Merle.

I hurried back toward him. The bleeding seemed to be slowing slightly, though it still showed no signs of stopping. He was losing too much blood. But I wasn’t willing to face that reality.

“You think you can stand?”

“Course I can,” he replied through gritted teeth.

I grabbed his good arm and pulled him forward, helping him stand, putting the arm around my shoulders so I could take some of his body weight. He was heavy, but any help I could give him I would.

We walked to the door and I lead him down the stairwell; it wasn’t wide enough for the two of us side by side, but he leaned on my back and I did my best to steady him on the way down. He stumbled a couple of times, no doubt the blood-loss making him dizzy, but we moved as slowly as I dared, me supporting him when he needed it. At the bottom, another walker lunged towards us. It took me a moment to grab my knife and stick it between its eyes, and I kept the blade in my hand after that. One free hand would have to do to help Merle. It was strange, having to protect him like this. Normally I was certain he’d object to me coddling him like this, but he had no choice but to rely on me for once. We made it to a fire exit around the back of the building in a room with several gas stoves. Merle wasn’t looking his best, blood dripping through the makeshift bandage on his arm. He seemed to have the idea at the same time as me.

“Do it,” He nodded grimly and I grimaced, but didn’t hesitate to light the nearest stove, placing a metal tray on top on the flames to heat through enough to cauterise the stump of his wrist.

“We’re gonna make it back, you know. “

“I know,” He said, but it was easy to see the uncertainty in his eyes.

The metal tray seemed hot enough, and I could tell he was gathering the will to do it, slowly, reluctantly unwrapping the open wound. I wasn’t entirely sure Merle could bring himself to. Gently, I took his arm in my hands, unwrapping it myself. Instead of watching the shirt unravel, he stared down into my face. Despite the circumstances, he still made my cheeks hot with the intensity of his gaze which I somehow managed to meet. I reached up, hooking an arm around his neck and a smile tilted the corners of his mouth. He waited for me to move closer first, and when I leaned my face towards his, he wasted no time in bridging the gap between us with a searing kiss. He was perfectly distracted. It was a shame to waste this moment but I did what had to be done, and drove his wrist down onto the hot metal on the stove.

“Son of a fucking bitch!” He exclaimed, yanking his arm away from the stove, and I winced.

“Shit, I’m sorry, but the bleeding’s stopped, right?”

He glared at me through the pain. “You serious?”

“I said I’m sorry, and I did just stop you from bleeding to death,” I smiled tentatively, and he shook his head, still cursing.

“So ya kiss like that fer a distraction? I’d love ta know what the real thing feels like,”

Kissing him had been stupid. But I was in the mood to be stupid, and I couldn’t resist kissing him again. He somehow mustered up that stupid, endearing grin as I pulled him towards me, lips meeting as his good arm found my waist. I could lose myself in the feeling of kissing Merle, all teeth and tongues colliding with no need to be gentle. His hand scooped me in closer until I was pressed up against him, before drifting to my ass with a squeeze. I hummed in pleasure, forgetting to breathe as he kissed me harder. When we finally broke apart all I wanted was to lean back in and kiss him again and again, to stay like this, pressed as close against him as I could be, not thinking about anything else.

“Knew ya wanted a piece of this,” Merle smirked. God he was insufferable. But I was willing to suffer, so long as he kept kissing me like that.

[allthatyoulove]

Potions and Fireworks

Fred Weasley / Reader

This is a sequel! (Click here to read the first part: Butterflies and Flowers!)

Summary: You wake up next to Fred Weasley, only hours after he confessed his feelings for you.

Includes: fluff, cussing maybe, lots of kissing

Words: 3.1k

A/N: Here's part two! I was so excited to write this one, sorry it took a while! Please check out my prompt list! You can request as many prompts as you’d like! Hope you enjoy the story! Feel free to leave any feedback and please let me know of any warnings or errors I missed, thanks for stopping by :)

--

I woke to the sound of birds chirping outside of the window. My eyes opened, squinting as they came into focus of the room around me. It was cold outside- which made it quite cold in the room as well. There was a light morning fog across the water surrounding the school as the sun began to rise. A few voices of the people in the common rooms below could be heard faintly. I began to stretch, turning to face the ceiling.

Before I realized I had an arm wrapped around my waist.

Fred’s arm.

I had a moment of panic before I recalled the events of last night.

I was thankful I decided to cut myself off after 5 drinks, being able to remember mostly everything. My face heated and my heart fluttered as I remembered helping Fred to bed last night and the confessions he made along the way.

“Did you like the flowers?”

“I really really like you”

“Just kiss tomorrow, eh?”

Part of the panic was over whether Fred truly felt that way when he woke up sober. However, the panic was miniscule in comparison to the excitement I felt over the day ahead. I didn’t get a chance to think too far ahead, however, before the twin laying next to me began to stir. He placed his head against my back, letting out a small grunt. I rubbed my hands up and down his arms that were wrapped around my waist as he pulled me into him, as much as he could. He was shirtless, which meant he had to have taken it off at some point as we slept.

The butterflies in my stomach only increased as he still seemed to be asleep. He was breathing softly, his heartbeat against my back. I carefully turned myself around, facing him. His eyelids were fluttering lightly, his brows furrowed. I smiled to myself, running my hand through his hair. I started to drift back to sleep, my hand on Fred’s cheek. The sound of his breathing, with the birds chirping outside the window convinced me I was in some afterlife. I felt so peaceful as I began to doze off. Before I even realized I was falling asleep, however, I felt someone place a kiss on my palm.

My eyes fluttered open, seeing Fred smirking at me as he held my hand in his, placing kisses all over it.

“‘Morning” He said, his voice raspy from sleep.

I smiled back at him drowsily, my eyes failing to remain open. I snuggled further into the pillow, feeling Fred scooch even closer to me. He placed a kiss on my forehead before pulling me in against his chest, resting his head on top of mine. I was trying to fight the sleep threatening to overtake me, but I was too comfortable and too happy to not give in. My eyes shut once again, shutting out the world around me as well.

---

I suddenly woke up again, in the same position as I fell asleep. I was cradled against Fred’s chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart. I slowly raised my head, seeing the room brightly lit up. The sun was shining. I tried to sneakily unravel myself from Fred’s arms, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

The sun was shining.

My head shot over to the clock on the wall, reading the time.

10:47 am.

Shit shit shit shit shit

I rubbed my eyes, being hit with a sudden wave of awareness. I looked around, seeing that I was still in my clothes from last night. My mind was racing. We missed the first period, and we would miss the second if we didn’t hurry.

I turned around, shuffling on the bed to Fred’s side on my knees. I shook him lightly, calling his name.

“Fred. Fred!” I whisper-shouted. I didn’t want to startle him, but we needed to hurry.

“Hmm?” He said, shoving his face further into the pillow. I continued to shake him.

“It’s Friday, Fred. We’ve got school!”

He turned himself around, pulling me onto him so I was straddling him. He wrapped his arms around me, gently bringing me down into his chest once again.

“Mmm...let’s just stay in bed today.” He said into my hair, placing a kiss on the crown of my head. I continued to try and get him out of bed, no matter the butterflies that were in my stomach. I lifted myself up, planting my hands on either side of his face. He raised his eyebrows in suggestion, smirking. I rolled my eyes, about to speak before he beat me to it.

“Give me a kiss.” He said, his eyes falling to my lips. I licked them subconsciously, smiling back at him.

“I’ll give you a kiss if you get out of bed,” I said, sitting up straight. He squirmed underneath me, seeming to take in the position we were in. I smiled at his sudden nervousness, getting up. He tried to reach for me to bring me back to him, but he was too slow from having just woken up. He groaned and rubbed his eyes before sitting up. He pouted at me as I smiled, turning to go to my dresser. I searched for a clean pair of clothes and robes as I felt him watch me. I glanced behind me to see him sitting against the headboard, his hands behind his head.

He looked so, so good.

And his morning voice…

I was failing in not getting tempted to run back into bed with him. He purposefully put his hands behind his head, the sheets of the bed resting just below his hips. Two could play in that game.

I lifted my own shirt over my head, throwing it to a corner of the room as I turned to grab the plain shirt I had picked out. As soon as I turned, I heard the bed creak as Fred got up and practically ran over to me, crouching down to wrap his arms around my waist. He started to kiss my neck, mumbling between each kiss.

“Such. A. Tease. Aren’t you?” He asked, burying his head into my neck. My hand went to his hair as I laughed. He spun me around, leaning in for a kiss before I stopped him.

“Where are your manners, Weasley?” I asked, walking to the bathroom- still shirtless.

He watched me as I began to brush my teeth. He sauntered over and did the same, looking at me with a smile through the mirror. A bit of toothpaste fell onto my chest, and he wasted no time at all.

“Oh no! Let me help you with that.” He said, his mouth attaching to my chest, where the toothpaste had fallen. I let out a laugh as I playfully pushed him away. He just grinned and winked at me, continuing to brush his teeth. I finished before him, rinsing my mouth out and wiping my chest off before walking back over to the dresser. His eyes followed me the entire way, just watching. I had my back turned to him as he finished, putting my arms through the button up shirt every student was required to wear.

I heard him finish up, making his way back over to me. I didn’t have time to button it up before he spun me around to face him.

“Now do I get a kiss?” He asked, licking his lips as his eyes fell over my own.

“Mmm...Let me think about it.” I said, pretending to be deep in thought. He groaned playfully, laughing as he put his head on my shoulder. I reached behind me to grab his tie as I laughed with him. When he picked his head back up, ready to complain, I wrapped the tie around the back of his neck and used it to pull him in for a kiss.

He held his breath for a second before he brought his hands up to my face, pulling me closer to him. He inhaled through his nose, the taste of mint on his lips. My face heated and the infamous butterflies came back once again, always seeming to be there when I’m around him.

We finally pulled away, smiling drunkenly off of the kiss and each other. I let go of the tie, finally buttoning up my shirt. His eyes darkened as he watched me, his hands dropping from my face to loosely rest on my hips. I turned to grab for my tie before he stopped me, taking his own off of his neck and putting it instead around mine.

“What’re you doing, Fred?” I asked, looking up at him as he started to tie it for me with an innocent smile.

“Wear my tie today.” He said softly, smiling as he finished tying it. He put his hands on his hips, standing back to proudly stare at his work.

“They’re gonna notice it’s yours.” I said, raising my eyebrows at him. The boys’ ties had smaller stripes than the girls’, with more of the color red showing.

“Good.” He said, leaning in to give me a few quick kisses. I smiled at him before remembering what time it was and that we were already late.

“Alright Weasley, you’ve got to go get dressed. I’ve got to get to class, I can’t miss potions. Snape will be furious.” I said, bringing my hands up to his hair and lightly scratching. He leaned into my touch as he groaned out an agreement. He gave me another long kiss before he left.

---

I walked into potions with Hermione, who seemed completely fine for someone who was dancing on the tables last night. We were laughing about it as we took our seats for the lecture. Ginny came in seconds before class started, wearing glasses. She slammed her books down next to us, then winced as she sat down with an oof. Hermione and I exchanged looks, laughing at her.

“You alright, Gin?” Hermione asked, trying to stop laughing at her. Ginny shot her a glare, putting her head in her arms on the table. We decided to leave her alone while she slept. The lecture began on time, Snape teaching us how to make Everlasting Elixirs, which I had learned from the textbook a while ago. I spun my pencil between my fingers, my mind wandering.

I hope Fred had gotten to his class on time. I hadn’t seen him after we said our goodbyes, and we wouldn’t be seeing each other until lunch. Which was….

In 3 hours.

I sighed, holding back a yawn. Hermione was studying for another class, while Ginny was still asleep. I had to nudge her a couple times when she would start to snore, trying to make sure she didn’t get caught. Snape didn’t leave the front of the room, thankfully. I was bored out of my mind, checking the clock every minute to see it had barely moved. Time was going by agonizingly slow. I was about to put my own head down when I saw Hermione staring at me from the corner of my eye. I turned to her, seeing her looking at my neck. My heart dropped.

He didn’t leave any hickeys, did he? No. He couldn’t have. I would have noticed them. Right?

“What is it, Hermione?” I asked her. Her mouth dropped as she smiled, looking between me and my neck. I started to blush as I waited for her to say something.

“Is that… Fred’s tie?” She whispered, leaning in closer to me.

I looked down, forgetting I was wearing it. I mentally sighed in relief that it wasn’t hickeys she was staring at, but I still had to explain the tie. The heat didn’t leave my face.

I nodded, Hermione giggling next to me. I nudged her playfully.

“Oh shut it, how was last night with Ron?” I asked her, dragging out his name and raising my eyebrows. She blushed, her face turning red. I laughed, about to ask for details before I felt something poke me on the back.

I turned my head around, seeing Neville grinning at me, red in the face. I shot him a confusing look, leaning in.

“Yeah?”

He tried to point towards the door with his eyes, not saying anything back. I furrowed my brows, looking towards the door.

I saw Fred, silently closing the door behind him. He turned around and looked at me, winking and smirking. My mouth dropped, looking towards the front of the class. Snape had his back turned, reading directly from the textbook. I whipped my head back towards Fred, seeing him crawling under the desks to get to mine. I laughed, immediately covering my mouth and getting out of my chair to join him on the floor.

“Fred! What’re you doing here?” I whisper-yelled, helping him get under the desk. He hit his head, groaning before I covered his mouth, laughing. His hand shot up to cover mine as well, trying to be silent. As our laughter died down, I could feel my face heat up over his hand placement. We slowly took our hands down at the same time, Fred smirking at me. I smiled back at him, looking at his lips before I remembered where we were. I shot my eyebrows up in a ‘well?’ look before he responded.

“Do you want to go up to the astronomy tower with me?” He whispered, out of breath.

“The astronomy tower? Now?”

“Yeah.” He said, smiling at me. I looked towards the front of the room again, seeing Snape in the same spot. I looked over at Ginny, seeing she was still passed out, and when I looked over at Hermione she was already looking at me.

“Hi Fred!” She whispered. Fred stuck his head out from under the desk.

“Hi Hermione,” He said, smiling at her before ducking back under the desk. I widened my eyes at Hermione, trying to telepathically send her an apology. She just shook her head and laughed lightly.

“Go.” She said, continuing when I shot her a confused look. “Go with Fred. I’ll cover for you.”

I was about to thank her profusely before Fred stuck his head back out, looking between Hermione and I.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” He said, smiling. I held my breath as I spoke.

“What do you mean that won’t-”

Just as I began my sentence, the doors to the classroom burst open, George flying in on a broom. I stared in shock as he flew to the very front of the classroom, setting something down before flying away to a corner of the room. Snape got out his wand, pointing it at George before we heard fireworks.

George had put fireworks in the classroom.

My head shot over to the front, the class erupting into cheers and laughter. I started to laugh with them, unbelievably shocked at what was happening. Red and Gold bursted from the floor, exploding at the top of the classroom. One after another. Fred took my hand to get my attention.

“So, whaddya say?” He asked, laughing.

“Let’s do it!” I said back to him, letting him help me out from under the desk. Ginny had woken up, extremely confused about what was happening. Hermione was trying not to laugh, but eventually gave in and scooted closer to Ginny.

Fred led me out of the class, shutting the door behind us as we started towards the astronomy tower. We occasionally had to duck behind pillars, trying to remain hidden from the staff and ghosts roaming the halls. We eventually made it, collapsing onto the floor of the tower, out of breath. We laughed as we tried to catch our breath, laughing harder everytime we looked at eachother. My adrenaline was through the roof, I couldn’t believe what had just happened.

We both sat up, Fred scooting closer to me and putting his hand on my thigh. My laughter slowly died down as he smiled at me before going in for a kiss. I kissed him back, putting my hand on top of his. He deepened the kiss, his other arm going across my back to hold me as my other hand went to his hair. His mouth trailed from my lips to my neck, kissing everywhere he could. I was breathless, closing my eyes and focusing on Fred’s lips against my neck. He brought his mouth back up to mine, giving me another small kiss before pulling away and looking at me. His hair was messed up and he looked drunk.

I loved it.

We started to laugh again, Fred collapsing on top of me.

“I can’t believe you convinced George to do that.” I said, catching my breath.

“Me neither, honestly. He owed me a favor for when I did something similar for him and Angelina, but I didn’t think he’d agree to this.” He explained.

I sat up, giggling over the redness on Fred’s lips and cheeks. I stood up, extending my hand towards him on the ground. He accepted it, jumping to his feet and walking over to the edge of the tower with me. We looked all around, seeing first years on their brooms on the ground below. The sun was shining, reflecting against the water. It was cool outside, with a breeze coming through the tower. I closed my eyes, humming as Fred came behind me to wrap his arms around me. His face went to my neck, our bodies swaying left and right together. We stayed like this for a couple minutes before he held my hands, spinning me to face him. His face turned serious before he spoke.

“I’ve something to ask you,” He said, his eyes darting between my eyes and lips. My smile stayed on my face, my heart beating faster. I didn’t have any clue what he would ask, and the serious look on his face was worrisome.

“Yes?” I asked, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck. Our bodies were still lighty swaying together.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” He asked, looking into my eyes.

I couldn’t hide the huge smile that broke out on my face. Before I could even reply, he continued.

“I mean, you already snogged me…” He said, earning a slap on the arm from me. He just laughed, before holding his breath in anticipation.

“I would love to, Fred.” I said, bringing him in for another kiss.

We pulled away and looked at each other for a second, before looking back out at the view. We lowered to the ground and sat wrapped in each other’s arms for the duration of second period.

[hogwartsfirebolt]

A ticket to ruin (or Do Not, under Any Circumstance, agree to pretend you're dating your boss, oh my god)

It’s becoming increasingly clear that I’ve made a mistake, though it would be inaccurate to say I didn’t see it coming. As remarkably skilled as I am at self-deception, this particular lie is outrageous even for me.

And maybe I chose this, but what was the alternative? There was nothing else to be done.

That’s also a lie. I did not have to. I agreed freely, of my own volition, and was not coerced, even if Harry’s pleading eyes and lovely smile made it feel inevitable. He’s my boss, but it was me who said yes.

It feels as though the newspaper burns through my fingertips when I pick it up at the corner shop after breakfast. The lady selling it squints at me, possibly recognizing me from that godawful photograph that’s been everywhere today, the one that looks like every single one of my dreams and is, consequently, my worst nightmare.

“Potter’s new beau?” The headline reads. It could be worse. It is worse, online. When I checked this morning, Twitter was saying “Potter caught snogging a member of his crew,” which is at least true, and it was also saying, “Potter in love?” which is without the shadow of a doubt the worst thing I have ever read in my life.

If life has taught me anything, it’s that everyone buys their own ticket to ruin.

With the newspaper tucked underneath my arm, I make my way into the office, taking time to school my features into something that doesn’t feel like I’m wearing my heart all over my face, but it’s useless, when the whole world knows.

And, oh god, I don’t want to, but I take a peek at that photo again and grit my teeth so I don’t let out the shriek crawling up my throat. Shame and I, we go way back, made acquaintances when I was very young, but somehow this feels like every humiliating experience in my life thrown into a jar, shaken, and let out to swarm my chest.

The Photograph. “Potter’s new beau?” the headline screams. Harry, with his distinct hair, the leather jacket, the self-assured stance. And me by his side, shockingly pale, gazing up at him in what can only be described as motherfucking adoration. I look elated at having his attention on me, I look smitten.

If he’s seen this, Harry must be thinking I’m the actor of the goddamn century. He’s lucky he doesn’t have to live with the knowledge of what I was feeling in the moment depicted in The Photograph. Lucky he doesn’t know that, when he said, “I can see a pap, come here, let me kiss you,” my heart leapt, somersaulted, cartwheeled, backflipped, did a handstand with swinging feet.

The second picture shows the actual kiss, but thank god for small mercies, because my back is to the camera. I don’t know what I looked like at that moment, and I definitely never want to find out.

I fold the newspaper again when I step out of the elevator and into the open floor of the Harry Potter Management Offices. As soon as the Juniors spot me, the entire floor goes dead silent. I can practically read the he’s fucking our star as a collective speech bubble above their heads, and wish fervently for death as I make my way to the very back of the office, into Harry’s favorite meeting room.

He’s there, of course, and looks up with a smile so blinding I have to stop myself from stepping back from it.

“Morning, D, have you seen this?” He points at the different newspapers and magazines he’s laid out on the table, sounding supremely amused. “It worked, huh? This one’s my favorite.” He picks up an article with The Photo covering the entire front page, and a headline that says Potter, the heartbreaker, back in the game.

I clear my throat to avoid screaming.

“Yes, it worked.”

“This should get the label off my back for a bit, at least until the deal is settled and I’m back at the studio to record No Dwelling.” He stops, locks eyes with me, and I’m taken back to that moment one week ago, when he asked for the favor, and then, upon getting an I’m only your assistant for an answer, said I was one of the people he trusted the most in the world. “Do you think we can go out again today? Maybe for drinks in Soho? Paps always hang around that new bar, Fuel.”

I swallow. “I’m not sure I’m free.”

“Well, are you?”

Of course I am free for him, all my time is for him. I still take out my cell phone and make a show of checking my calendar before nodding. “We can go after your photo shoot for the Hermès fragrance. That’s at four.”

“Ah crap, I’d forgotten about that.” He makes a face, pursing the lips I know the feel of against mine and runs a hand through the hair I know the texture of against my fingers.

It’s been four days. I’ve made the worst mistake of my life.

“Let’s cancel,” he whispers, leaning close to conspire. I want to pull away; I want to lean so much closer that I disappear into him.

“We’ve canceled twice,” I murmur somehow, though I have no conscious idea of where I’ve left my voice, and if I’m answering it’s only out of three years of practice at having this heart attack of a man next to me every waking moment. His eyes shine, as they do every time he’s playing instigator with me.

“Come on, Draco, let’s go to the market. We can buy sandwiches, get our picture taken while we hold hands or something.”

I’ve been given a deadline to correct my public image, Harry said that fateful day, I promised the label that I could prove that the girl who claims she’s having my baby is a scam, but I don’t know how to.

He said, I think if we pretend we’ve been dating for a long time, that could distract them and give me an alibi. Will you do it? Please say you’ll do it.

He is the most convincing man I know, a force of nature made up of ridiculous good looks and charm that should be punishable by law. I didn’t even think to say no, even though the self-preservation alarms were going off in my head, saying, you absolute fucking idiot, you can’t do this, you’re in love with him.

But here I am, doing it, and he wants to play hooky as if we were in school.

He must see something in my face because his splits into the earth-shattering grin that throws entire stadiums into a frenzy when he flashes it in the middle of a show. “Awesome, text the representative, and let’s go.”

Still, I try. “What makes you think I’ll do that?”

“I want you to?” It’s not even a question, with that smug cock of his eyebrow. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

I’ve always known I’m buying my own ticket to ruin. With Harry, it almost doesn’t matter the outcome. Every second spent near him makes me burn bright with a light-soaked joy that seems pulled right out of a poetry book.

It’s worth it, the ruin. Even if I get one kiss, even if it’s for the cameras, even if I’m only ever his assistant, even if it never happens again. It’s him, and it’s worth it.

I text the representative.

This is my gift to @peachpety for the Wheel of Drarry Exhange. My dear peach 🍑💖, I had so much fun creating this for you, I really hope you enjoy it!!! Infinite thanks to @fw00shy for the beta and the convo about celebs ✨

[redheadsinmybed]

Play dates and roller skates

Wanda x Reader

Description: Wanda and Y/N have been in a little big relationship for a week now, what happens when Y/N has her first playdate???

Notes: Hi! So I’m gonna post all my stories from AO3 onto here so I get a larger audience. This is my second fanfic that I ever wrote and it’s the second part to the series ’Loving a little’ I hope you enjoy if you haven’t already read it!!!

Having Wanda as your caregiver is the best thing you could ever ask for. She knows you so well and loves you beyond anything you could have ever imagined. Having Wanda as your mama is like a dream come true.

Currently you were big, just talking over stuff with Wanda while watching a sitcom in the living room. It was about 8:45 p.m. and you were tired.

“Okay so today Pepper, Bucky, and Laura asked me if you would like to play with Tony, Steve, and Clint tomorrow. Natasha and Thor will be there too,” Wanda said looking at you.

Two days after you had showed everyone about you, you had turned back to big. You haven’t been little in a week now and it was really starting to take its toll on you. You want to slip back into your little state, but you’ve been fighting it, wanting to spend girlfriend time with Wanda.

Wanda was worried about you, since everyone knew about you she thought you’d feel comfortable switching regularly. She also knows being big for too long isn’t good for littles.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Wanda asks, reaching out for your hand to get your attention. It’s not that anything is wrong per say it’s just that you want to be little again and you're tired of trying to fight it.

“I-,” you stop not knowing how to say what you want to say.

“I want to spend time with you just as girlfriends, but it’s hard because I can feel myself slipping, but I just don’t want you to feel like you are taking care of me all the time,” you finally say after thinking about it.

“Baby that’s what I’m here for, not just as your mama but as your girlfriend too. I want you to feel comfortable switching between the two. You will never make me mad by switching, I promise. Now, baby girl, do you want to be little? I can go get Bunny for you.” Wanda suggests as she gets off the couch when she sees you nodding.

“Okay baby girl, mama will be right back” she kisses your forehead and makes her way to your bedroom where your stuffed animal koala named Bunny was.

When Wanda comes back she sees you switched when you make grabby hands at Bunny.

“Here you go baby girl” Wanda says as she hands you the koala and sits back down. You hold Bunny close to your chest and snuggle up against Wandas.

“So baby, do you want to play with Tony, Steve, and Clint tomorrow?” Wanda asks as she strokes your hair. You look up at your mama thoughtfully.

“Tasha be dare?” You ask with hope in your voice.

“Yes baby Nat will be there.”

“Otay. Do you fink dey know hows to woller skate?” You ask her. You had just recently turned 3 in your little state. Steve, Tony, and Clint were all 4 so they had a year on you, give or take. So you hoped someone would be able to teach you.

“Maybe baby, if not mama can help teach you” Wanda said assuringly.

“Mama know how to skate?!” You look at her with big doe eyes not being able to believe that your mama knows how to skate, and better yet can teach you how.

“If mama know how to skate and baby girl know how to skate, den mama an baby girl can skate togetder!!” You say happily with excitement. Wanda laughs at how adorable you are when you speak little talk.

“Yes baby, you and I can skate together,” Mama says to you. You look up at her happily ready to hang out with everyone and stake.

You yawn and snuggle closer into Wanda's chest ready to let the beating of her heart send you to sleep. Wanda sees you struggle to keep your eyes open.

“Close your eyes baby girl,” Mama says. That’s all the convincing that you need before your eyelids drop close.

When you wake up your head is still against mama's chest and she has her arms around you, but you see that you are no longer on the couch in the living room. Your in Wanda’s room- no your in your shared room with Wanda.

After you dropped, Wanda and you decided it was best to move in together. Even though you were just one door over. But you liked sharing a room with Wanda. You got to cuddle with her every night and wake up to her every morning.

You didn’t have a lot of stuff to move into Wanda's room so the move was easy. Most of your clothes were already in Wanda’s room since you spent nights with her so frequently, and the few things you do have are small.

You are still a bit tired and Wanda is still sleeping so you fall back asleep. When Wanda wakes up she is in the same position as when she went to sleep. You on top of her with your head on her chest, legs tangled together and her arms around you.

You don’t weigh enough to crush Wanda when you sleep on top of her, just enough to create a comfortable weight. You are like Wanda's weighted blanket. Keeping her warm at night and adding weight on top of her.

Seeing that it was 10:30 a.m. Wanda decided to wake you up as your play date with everyone was around lunch time.

“Baby girl,” Wanda says as she shakes you awake. You fuss for a minute not wanting to be pulled from your slumber, but when you see Wanda looking at you with love you suddenly forget all about sleep.

“Mama!!” you chirp happily. Wanda chuckles and kisses your cheeks.

“Morning, baby. Are you ready for today?” Wanda asks.

“Yay, can’t waits” You say back.

Wanda starts to untangle herself from you to your displeasure. You whine and pull on her arm.

“Baby we have to get up and ready if we want to play with everyone and roller skate”

“Woller skate!!!” You say cheerfully as you jump out of bed.

Wanda helps you get ready and by 11:30 you guys are ready to go. You put your shoes on, proud that you didn’t need mama's help, that is until she stops you.

“Hey baby, you got your shoes on the wrong feet,” Mama says as she crouches down to help you put them on the right way.

“There you go,” she says as she slips on your left splatter print croc on. She holds out her hand for you to take as you both walk down the hall.

Everyone is waiting in the common room in the compound. Steve, Tony, and Clint are already little and are playing with various toys. Tony is playing with an Iron Man action figure, Steve is playing with hot wheels, and Clint is playing with lego’s. Pepper, Bucky, Laura, Natasha, and Thor were all on the couch talking.

You spot Bunny on the couch that you and Wanda were on yesterday night. You tug Wanda towards Bunny not wanting to let go of her hand. You pick up Bunny and hug her to your chest.

“Hey Y/N,” Clint says, “Do you want to play lego’s with me?”

“No play with me Y/N” Tony insists.

“She doesn't want to play with you Tony, she wants to play with me!” Clint says, raising his voice.

“Why would she want to play with you? She doesn’t even like you” Tony says matter of factly.

“Boys” Pepper warns them.

“Y/N can play with anyone she wants, just let her choose. You don’t need to fight about it.” Laura says. You look between the two.

Letting go of mama's hand you walk toward Tony and he sticks his tongue out at Clint.

“Haha told you she wanted to play with-” Tony stops mid sentence as you walk right past him and walk over to Steve.

Pepper and Wanda just laugh and Bucky smiles.

“Guess she didn’t want to play with you guys since you were too busy fighting,” Laura says to the boys. Tony and Clint pout and look at Steve and you.

“Hi, can I pway wit you?” You ask Steve.

“Yeah, you can pick your favorite car,” Steve says pointing at the various cars scattered around him.

You spot a 2009 green Honda CR-V and instantly choose it. It reminds you of your mama’s eyes.

“I wike dis one. Mama, mama wook! It wook wike your eyes,” you exclaim. Wanda over at you and smiles while nodding her head.

You and Steve play cars for a while racing them on the floor, until lunch time. There’s hot dogs, chips, fruits, and veggies.

After Wanda fixes your plate for you everyone sits at the table. Wanda places your plate next to hers and you look up at her with big eyes, wanting to sit on her lap.

“Mama,” you say quietly, looking down as you ask her “can I sit on your lap?”

“Of course baby,” Wanda says. When she sits down you climb up on her lap with a smile on your face. You eat your hot dog and chips in a comfortable silence.

“Mama?” You ask as you eat your last chip.

“Yes baby girl?”

“Can we woller skate now?” You ask as you look up at her.

“Yes, baby we can roller skate now,” Wamda says

“OOO mommy can I roller skate with Y/N too?” Tony asks Pepper.

“Yeah I want to too,” Clint says.

“How bout we all go out and roller skate?” Wanda suggests getting cheers and noises of approval. Bucky and Pepper get skates out of the training room. Why they have a bunch of roller skates just sitting around nobody knows.

Outside the avengers compound littles and their caregivers were putting on their skates. Learning from this morning you put your skates on the right feet, but you need help tying them up. Wanda ties up your laces and stands up.

You try to stand up but can’t by yourself. You frown and try again, but the back wheels on our heels keep turning.

Wanda sees you struggle and holds out her hands for you. You grab onto your mama's hands as she helps you stand.

When you finally get off the ground you start to slowly roll forward. Luckily Wanda is still holding your hands so you don’t get far.

“You ready, baby?” Wanda asks you. You nod your head still a little unsteady, but you know mama will catch you before you fall.

“Yes mama I’m red-ready” you say as you wobble back and forth. You start to move forward when Wanda starts to move.

Wanda moves forward with ease. And your eyes go wide.

“Wooooooow you can woller skate,” you say in awe.

“Every won wook! My mama can skate!” You say pointing to your mama. Your mama smiles at you as everyone looks at her. She lets go of your arms and skates around everyone. All the littles look at her with unbelieving expressions.

When Wanda skates back to you she sees that you had tried to follow her. While trying to follow her your front left wheel hits a rock you didn’t see. The sudden stop makes you lose your balance. About to fall face first into the cement you brace for impact.

You wait. Except it never comes. When you open your eyes you see that mama used her powers to stop you from eating some cement, and stopped a big meltdown in front of everyone.

Red wisps of magic gently bring you back to her. Only once her hand is safely collapsed around yours do her eyes stop glowing red.

“You okay baby?” She asks you worried that she didn’t stop you in time. You hug her tight thanking her for not letting you fall.

Wanda shows you how to move your feet to move forward. You struggle for a bit, but Wanda helps you until you finally move forward on your own.

“Wook mama!! I’m doin it!” You say as your mama smiles and cheers you on. You look back behind you and see Pepper helping Tony skate for the first time. Clint and Steve were racing against each other already knowing how to skate.You skate slowly back to mama and hug her.

“I love you mama,” you say, and everyone around you lets out ‘awws’. Wanda looks a little shocked. You've told her that when you were big, but never when you were little.

Wanda can feel the tears brimming at her eyes.

“I love you too baby girl.”

Here in this moment, surrounded by your family, by mama, you feel the most loved.

After roller skating for a while you went back inside where mama and Tasha cuddled you on the couch until you started feeling sleepy.

“You ready to go baby girl?” Wanda asks you.

“Go where?” You ask curiously.

“Back to our room so you can sleep baby.”

“Otay,” you say sleepily. Wanda stood up and held her hand out for you. But you were too tired to walk all the way down the hall to your bedroom.

“Mama, can you carry me, pwease?” Wanda picks you up and sets you on her hip. You wrap your arms and legs around her.

“You’re like a koala baby,” she says. Which reminds you of something.

“Wait, mama, Bunny,” you say pointing to the stuffed koala. Nat is sitting by the koala and hands it to you.

“Fanks Tasha,” you say.

“Can I get a hug before you go?” Nat asks smiling, and you shake your head yes. Wanda smiles as you hug Nat. She is glad that you have found comfort in being little around people.

Wanda carries you back to your shared room and sits you down on your bed. You close your eyes ready to fall asleep, until Wanda says something.

“Baby you need to take a bath before we can go to bed.” You whine because you’re tired and you just want to snuggle up with mama until you fall asleep.

“How about mama joins you baby?” She said hoping to convince you.

You had done a lot today, after roller skating you played outside for a while before you came back inside. Tony, Steve, Clint, and you made mud cakes for everyone so you really needed a bath.

You agree to take one when you realize you can cuddle with mama in the tub. Wanda goes into the bathroom to get the water running.

When she’s done she comes out to find you half asleep, sucking on your thumb while you hold Bunny. She sighs but picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. She helps you undress and into the tub.

When she undresses she gets in the tub behind you and pulls you to her chest. She washes the dirt off your body and whispers to you about how good you were today.

“You’re such a sweet little girl for mama,” you hear her say as she finishes washing you off. You snuggle closer to her and just listen to her heartbeat.

“You ready to get out baby?” She asks you after a while. You nod your head ready to go to bed with her. Wanda helps you get out of the tub and drys you off. She helps you put on your pajamas.

She tucks you into bed with Bunny and follows soon after. When she's under the covers she wraps her arms around you. You shift as close as you can to her.

“I love you,” you say to her before closing your eyes. Wanda’s heart swells with love at your words.

“I love you too,” she says as you two drift off into sleep.

[morganayenneferburnham]

Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll their Eyes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33661984/chapters/83654680

A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker's crazy schemes.

Nikolai Lantsov. King of Ravka. He was privateer extraordinaire Sturmhond?

Word count: 2k

A/N:  So I wrote my first fic! Hopefully at least one person likes it! I just posted the first chapter today. The second one should follow somewhat soon ☺️I’m currently writing the third chapter!

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll their Eyes

Nikolai Lantsov. King of Ravka. He was privateer extraordinaire Sturmhond?

Y/N couldn’t quite believe it. She had been a fan of him for years. Asking for the latest news on the voyages of the Volkvolny and its captain every chance she got. They were legendary. When Kaz had told her a few days prior that Sturmhond was going to be with them for a job she had barely been able to contain her excitement. Now, she was mortified. How could she work with a king?

Had she not been standing next to Kaz during the meeting she’d never have believed it.

“How long have you known, Kaz? I mean, I know you’ve worked with him before but…” her voice trailed off in a question.

“I figured it out when we first met.” His mind traveled back to that day. Meeting the privateer by the Geldrenner hotel’s baths, just a few years ago. They had been trying to save Kuwei Yul-Bo, a Shu inferni who’d had the misfortune of being the son of the fabrikator who created Jurda Parem, making him the most valuable hostage in the world. They had auctioned him off, faked his death, and gotten revenge on Jan Van Eck all at the same time. “The king of Ravka wouldn’t just let anyone represent his country in important matters. The fact that he always travels with at least one member of the Triumvirate doesn’t help him keep his identity secret either.” He scoffed. “He really should stop doing that.” Kaz sounded almost… annoyed?

“I take it you’ve given him that particular piece of advice and he didn’t listen?” She smirked. “Though, you know, I’m glad Zoya Nazyalenski tagged along. She is even more gorgeous than I thought.”

“He never listens. Almost as stubborn as you.” He huffed. The glare he gave her would’ve been enough to scare most people, however, she was not most people. She considered Kaz family, and she knew that Kaz did too, in his own way. They had both lost siblings to the city after all. She had joined his crew a few months after they had lost Matthias and Nina had gone back to Ravka. He had needed a new corporalnik and she had made fast friends with Inej, Jesper, and Wylan. As much as Kaz had tried to keep the young tailor at arm’s length, she had found a way to worm herself into his cold guarded heart. His look softened before he continued. “You should steer clear of her. She’s just as icy as she appears. Wouldn’t want you to get your heart broken before the job.” That was his way of showing he cared.

“Don’t worry, Kaz, I’m not looking to marry her. Maybe she’d be open to a bit of fun?” She laughed, throwing her long auburn hair over her shoulder, and made her way back to Jesper and Wylan down the corridor.

---

A few days had passed since they’d met with Sturmhond. He and Zoya had temporarily moved into the slat. Kaz had been cooped up in his office, wearing his scheming face most of that time. Everyone could tell Kaz’s plan was going to involve multiple steps and deceptions.

Since they hadn’t been working any other jobs, the crows had been left to their own devices for the first time in months. Kaz occasionally called on them for their expertise, but they had a lot more downtime than they were used to. They had taken advantage of it to get to know their new teammates. Y/N had mostly struck out with Zoya, though she had managed to make her laugh a few times, to everyone’s surprise. Maybe with more time, she’d have a small chance with Zoya? The young grisha had also tried to wrap her head around the identity of her favourite privateer. She now found herself sitting in Kaz’s office, Jesper and Wylan on her right and Sturmhond and Zoya on her left. Kaz looked all business, so serious she feared he’d give himself an aneurysm.

“I need you to tailor him. Once you’re done, you’ll tailor yourself.” Kaz nodded in Sturmhond’s direction sitting behind his cluttered desk, hands resting on his crow’s head cane.

Y/N looked up at Inej who had been sitting at Kaz’s window. “May I ask why? Hasn’t he already been tailored?” She gestured to the privateer before returning her hand to her lap. “He doesn’t look like the king of Ravka.”

Kaz rolled his eyes. “Why must you always question me?” He sighed. “Yes, he has been tailored, nonetheless, he is too easily recognizable as Sturmhond. I need you both to look like rich Kaelish merchants. It shouldn’t be too hard for you?”

“Of course not. You know there’s nothing I can’t do, Brekker.” She replied in Kaelish. She softened her tone before continuing in Kerch. “I’m simply asking you to share your brilliant scheme with us mere mortals” Her voice was laced with sarcasm. Inej stifled a laugh. It looked like the Suli girl couldn’t help but smile at the other’s antics.

Kaz groaned. “Fine, I’ll share my plan for the job. It’d be easier if you just listened. I’ll explain it once so pay attention – Jesper!” Poor Jesper jumped on his chair. He’d been staring at Sturmhond since they’d all entered the office. Y/N couldn’t blame him. The privateer did have an inexplicable charm despite his tailored features.

“Yes, Boss!” Jesper straightened in his chair and sent an apologetic look to Wylan.

“Alright, to pull this one off we’ll need blueprints that can only be found in Gert Van Verent’s safe. He keeps his office under lock and key – ”

“Wait, you want us to break into a councilman’s house, again? Why can’t you do it Kaz? You’re the best at picking locks.”

“Well, if you hadn’t interrupted me” he was glaring daggers at her now, his eyes the hue of bitter coffee “you’d know that two guards are posted outside his office, at all times” he’d emphasized the last part and raised a hand to stop Y/N from interrupting him again “and his windows are protected behind steel bars.” Y/N nodded once slowly indicating she was willing to listen with no more interruptions.

“Van Verent is throwing a party in the hopes of finding his eldest daughter a husband. Being a devout Kerch merchant, he is also using the occasion to find new business ventures. The party is our window of opportunity. That-” he gestured to her and Sturmhond “is where you two come in. Ainsley and Eoin Ó Ceallaigh, newlyweds from the Wandering Isle, looking to extend your exporting business to Kerch. I already secured your invitation” Y/N felt her jaw drop. No sound came out. All she could do was stare at Kaz. He had finally lost it. He wanted her and the king of Ravka to assume false identities and pretend to be married? Dirtyhands had gone mad.

Wylan was the one who voiced her concern. “Kaz? I know Y/N’s a talented tailor and well she is Kaelish so that part’s covered but, well, um, no disrespect Sturm-, Sir? Your Highness? But, um, do you speak Kaelish?”

The king smiled. He looked amused at Wylan’s confusion. He replied in perfect unaccented Kaelish “Call me Nikolai, it will make for less confusing conversation. Of course, I speak Kaelish, I have been educated in 6 languages. I also had a fondness for Kaelish poetry in my youth.”

Everyone seemed to relax at that. However, Y/N could tell she was going to need Jesper’s help to undo the knots in her shoulders later that night. “Kaz? I don’t think I’m that great of an actress… You also haven’t told us how we’re supposed to get the plans if we do get in.”

“Don’t worry darling, I’m sure we’ll manage. I’m talented enough for the both of us” Nikolai winked at her. Nikolai, who just so happened to be the privateer she had admired for years. She felt her cheeks flush. Saints, she thought, this is going to be a nightmare.

“Jesper and Wylan have also been invited to the party thanks to Wylan’s new position on the merchant’s council.” She had never been more grateful to Kaz for overlooking the interruptions. “They’ll cause a distraction, with Nazyalenski’s help, to let you and Nikolai slip past the guards and break into Van Verent’s office.” He stopped and looked at Y/N. “I know you can pick the lock and crack the safe. I trained you myself after all.”

The discussions and planning continued well into the night. Y/N wasn’t convinced it was such a good plan, but everyone else seemed on board so she kept her mouth shut. All she could do now was make sure to memorize all she could before the job. The party was two days away, which didn’t give them much time to learn all they could about their characters. Kaz had instructed Nikolai and Y/N to spend every waking moment working together to make sure they made a believable couple.

Twelve hours in, Y/N was cursing herself for saying she wasn’t a great actress. If she’d only pretended to be confident in her acting abilities, she might have been allowed to take a break from the insufferable king. Well, insufferable might have been a little dramatic but the man loved himself way too much. They had memorized their stories in the first 8 hours and were now being quizzed by Wylan and Jesper while she started tailoring them both, yet the King would not stop flirting with her. He also made sure to touch her every chance he got. A brush of his fingers on her cheek, of his knuckles on hers, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger. She knew it was just harmless fun for him. It was driving her completely mad. She just wanted him to take the job seriously.

“How did he propose?” Wylan asked for the third time in the past two hours.

Y/N sighed and moved her fingers through Nikolai’s hair to darken it. “It was incredibly romantic. He had planned a picnic by the lake where we met.” Her cheeks were already starting to hurt from the plastered smile on her face.

“I had all of her favourite foods, of course” Nikolai interjected, moving to softly caress the girl’s cheek.

Y/N had to restrain herself from slapping his hand away. “Yes, even strawberries, in winter! Can you believe it? Once the sun began to set, he dropped to one knee and pulled the ring from the picnic basket with a bouquet of winter roses. I’m so lucky to have fallen in love with such an attentive and caring man.” She turned to Kaz who had been observing them, leaning against the doorframe, and dropped the smile from her lips. “Was that satisfactory, Boss?”

Kaz shrugged. “It’d be better if you didn’t look like you wanted to stab him every time he touches you.”

Y/N released a breath. “Maybe if you’d let me take a break...” her tone was pleading.

Kaz smiled at that. He was finally wearing her down. Giving her a taste of what she’d put him through the last two years felt like sweet justice to him. He liked the girl well enough, but she had a way of getting on his nerves. He took no pity on her. “You’ll keep going until I actually believe you are in love with him.” He left the room with a pointed look at her.

Zoya released an amused laugh. “I’m just glad Nikolai found someone else to bother for a change.” She smiled smugly at Y/N. “Don’t worry, he’s mostly harmless. Just come find me if he gets too handsy, I’ll put him in his place for you.”

Y/N couldn’t believe it. Zoya had definitely sent her a wink before following behind Kaz. Maybe all her flirting had paid off?

“Sweetheart, I’m hurt, you are taking more interest in my general than in your own handsome husband.” Nikolai’s tone was toeing the line between mock hurt and amused.

She turned back to the three men in front of her. “Jesper, please, just shoot me.”