#i am deeply anxious and disturbed but i will try

[iridescentis]

i cannot sing dance nor act but i think playing ricky potts would fix me

[blackwaxidol]

I do not know what my problem is.

[soireegurl]

Hii i love ur works smm can i request yandere ex Jungwon who turns out to be a doctor and u meet him while u were in the hospital visiting ur boyfriend Sunghoon (i hope that made sense😭😭) ur such an amazing writer 🩷🩷

Thanks for requesting! Sorry for the long wait! Hope you'll like it!

---

You were at the hospital, nervously pacing the waiting room.

Sunghoon had been admitted for a minor procedure, and while you were anxious about him, you were relieved to be with him.

As you sat down, hoping to find some comfort, the hospital staff wheeled in a new doctor for a consultation.

When the doctor walked in, your heart nearly stopped.

It was Jungwon, your ex.

His once familiar gaze now carried a clinical coldness that sent shivers down your spine.

His presence was like a cruel twist of fate, especially since you had been trying so hard to move on from the obsession that once defined your relationship.

Jungwon, still as charming as ever but with an unsettling edge, greeted you with a polite nod.

"Hello... Miss Y/n... I'm doctor Jungwon. I'm here to discuss with you about Mr Park Sunghoon's condition... May I ask how are you related to him?"

His tone was low and his stare was intense.

You felt your stomach churn as you looked into his eyes.

"I... I am his girlfriend..."

You didn't know where you got that courage from to say that in front of his face. You were so scared that you can't stop shaking.

But to your surprise Jungwon didn't have any reaction. Maybe just not on the outside.

It was weird to see him all professional and calm. As he explained Sunghoon’s condition and the procedure, you noticed subtle, almost imperceptible glances he cast your way. It was as if he was gauging your reactions, analyzing your every move with a disturbing interest.

You tried to stay calm, focusing on Sunghoon’s condition. Jungwon was efficient and professional, but you couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that his calm demeanor masked something darker.

After discussing about Sunghoon's condition, he removed his mask and went back to the Jungwon you knew.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, his eyes lingering on you with a look that suggested more than mere professional curiosity.

You didn't know how to react or what to say... Just as the silence is about to kill you, Jungwon's assistant walked in and escorted you out as the next patient is in line.

"See you next time... Miss Y/n..."

The way he calls your name... You just can't ignore that shady feeling. The fear that something is going to happen. But you have Sunghoon now... You will be fine... Right?

You had to accompany Sunghoon to the hospital for almost all his visits as you are worried about his condition. But this means that you have to see Jungwon regularly and that's not good.

But for Sunghoon, you just had to do it. You guys are in a hospital... He can't do anything.

That's the only hope you had, the hope that he is still mentally sane. And won't do anything in public.

During one of his visits, Jungwon pulled you aside, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone. “You seem to be doing well,” he said, his eyes boring into yours.

“It’s been a while since we last saw each other. I’m glad to see you’re still as captivating as ever.”

He sounded calm and nice as if he was really happy for you. But his eyes say the complete opposite.

You felt a chill. The way he spoke was familiar yet deeply unsettling. It was the same possessive intensity you remembered all too well.

Jungwon had always been deeply involved in every aspect of your life, and now, even in this new role, he seemed to be slipping back into his old ways.

Trying to ignore the unsettling feeling, you focused on Sunghoon. But Jungwon’s presence was a constant shadow, and the more you tried to distance yourself, the more insistent he became.

His concern for Sunghoon seemed less about the medical side and more about keeping a close watch on you.

"Is he a good boyfriend?"

"He can't even take care of himself, how can he take care of you?"

"Honestly, I did a better job, didn't I?"

Those questions... They were more like words that are trying to break you and Sunghoon's relationship. But obviously it's not gonna work. And none of it is true. You just didn't have the courage to reply to him.

But gladly he didn't force you as well. But... He definitely did something that scared the shit out of you.

"I hope you didn't forget about what I said before..."

Hearing his words, you can't help but to remember what he said when you guys broke up.

"You will never escape from me. You can run... But I'll always find you. We belong together. Not even death tears us apart."

You soon realized that while you were attempting to move forward, the past wasn’t so easily left behind. Jungwon, your ex and now a doctor, had found a new way to insert himself into your life, and it was becoming increasingly clear that his obsession had never truly faded.

The safe haven you thought you had found with Sunghoon was now under threat, as Jungwon’s fixation began to cast a long, dark shadow over everything.

[milkyplier]

@skyward-floored here you go :3

Heavy.

Skylor sighs as gently as she possibly can, so as not to disturb a deeply sleeping Kai. He’s leaning against her, head on her shoulder and body pressed against her own. Which means she is unfortunately the only thing keeping him upright. She considers just standing up and letting him fall—he was heavy, heavier than she expected, and while Skylor was strong, she wasn’t strong enough to find supporting him a cakewalk, and it would be funny.

He had promised not to fall asleep while they were watching movies, so it would be payback for breaking his promise, but something stops her. She watches his expression, which, in its relaxed state, betrays how exhausted he really is. He has eye bags Skylor would otherwise assume were bruises, and despite his young age, there’s something about that deeply-engrained fatigue that makes him look older.

She frowns as his eyebrows crease and his face assumes a pained expression. There’s a few seconds of silence before he jerks back, and—sitting upright, lax and no longer supported—almost falls of the couch they’re sitting on. Skylor is quick to steady him, and decide nap time is over.

“Hey, hey, Kai. Wake up.” She says softly, shaking him a little. It’s enough to wake him up, and he blinks at her. For a moment, just a second while he stares with wide eyes, she see the pain and panic written there. It disappears quickly with a slightly strained smile, and Skylor wonders if it’s real or if he’s just really good at hiding how he feels.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he says hurriedly, “I must have been more tired than I thought.” He’s still smiling, but Skylor sees him look around the room, and then at the television screen with an almost bleary expression, trying to orient himself.

“We were watching Legally Blonde, right?” He asks. “Did I miss a lot of it? Last I remember, Elle was practicing for the LSATs. Let me find the remote so I can skip—“

“What’s wrong?” It comes out a lot stronger than Skylor thought it would, but she’s glad for it. Kai’s smile falters.

“What do you mean?” He chuckles, but it’s too tired, too anxious.

“You’ve been…quiet…lately.” Skylor says. “And abnormally tired. You fell asleep while we were watching a movie. You never fall asleep during movies I ask you to watch.”

Kai’s smile returns, and it’s supposed to be reassuring, but all Skylor sees is the weight behind it.

“Yeah, we’ve just been training harder lately.” Kai says. “Wu tends to get pretty strict when he thinks we’ve gotten lazy, so he’s been working us to the bone.”

It’s a lie. Skylor doesn’t know his training schedule, but she can tell that this is a lie. She adjust in her seat, so that they’re no longer cuddled together and she can look him straight in the eye.

“Don’t lie to me. I’m worried about you, Kai.”

Kai seems to think it over for a second. That smile, that fake, heavy smile keeps for another few seconds before it begins to fade. The spark in his eye does do. He breaks her gaze, looking at the floor.

“I’m just…m’just…tired.” His voice has a slight wobble. “Years of saving Ninjago caught up with me, I guess. I’ve always been able to stay ahead of it, but in the lull after getting Nya back, I just…I just…”

His voice breaks. He leans back against the cough and looks up, rubbing his hands over his face roughly.

“Screw that, I’m exhausted. You know, I go outside every day and I see people, people who love me and people who hate me and everywhere I go, someone wants a picture or an autograph or they just glare at me like I’m the reason their lives are falling apart. And…maybe I am, maybe I just didn’t realize it. I can’t even scroll through Chirper without seeing someone saying something about me. ‘The red ninja’s so great’ and then the next post, someone is criticizing me for something that went wrong. I don’t know, I can’t fix everything. And every day, I wake up and there’s something to do. I drag myself out of bed, and I have to face terror, death, evil. Even on the days I have off and the days where nothing happens, somehow everything I’ve seen fills in the gaps and it’s like I spent the day saving the city over and over and over again.

“And my friends…I’ve almost lost them so many times, I have lost them so many times. How could I let that happen? It wad bad enough that it happened once, but how did I let it happen again? I can’t protect them, I can’t keep them safe. I think they might hate me, but don’t show it. And Lloyd…he’s like my little brother and I can’t do anything to keep his destiny from ruining what little childhood he has in him. That child-like innocence, I see it slip away more and more everyday and I can’t do anything. And Nya—!” Kai stands up, pulling on his hair. Skylor’s heart races in her chest, but she keeps herself calm.

“My own little sister had to give herself up to save the city! I’m supposed to protect her from anything, and I—I didn’t! I couldn’t! How could I? And then when she left, she didn’t say anything to me. She looked at Jay, looked him in the eye and spoke to him but she just…she just ignored me. She forgot me. And then Jay had the audacity to act like he’d lost someone so important when that was my little sister! That was my only family! I basically raised her! I’ve been there for her her out whole lives! SHE WAS MY LIFE, AND I LOST HER!” His voice rises to a shout, and then he stands there for a solid thirty seconds. He wilts steadily until he just collapses back onto the couch. He rests his forehead on her shoulder, and somehow it’s so much heavier than it should be.

“I’m…tired.” He whispers. “I’m so tired.”

Skylor doesn’t know what to say. How could she console him? She understood what he meant, but at the same time was sure that she hadn’t understood anything at all. She feels the sting of tears in her eyes, and tries to control them. She hurts for him, she hurts so bad because he hurts and she can’t do anything to help. She doesn’t know how. But…I can always learn, right?

She shifts both of them so that he’s laying more comfortably in her lap. Her heart aches at the faint tear tracks on his face. She presses a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you.” She cards her fingers through his hair, and is pleased when he closes his eyes.

“I love you too.” His words are almost inaudible, weighed down with sorrow, but they are sincere and they mean everything to Skylor.

“I’ll unpause the movie, and you just lay here. Sleep. Today is your day off, and I won’t let your demons make it anything less.”

Kai nods, and Skylor reaches for the remote.

“I love you,” she repeats, before unpausing the movie. She keeps running a hand through Kai’s hair, and it doesn’t take long at all before he’s fallen asleep. She wakes him whenever he shows signs of nightmares, and promptly sends him to sleep again. It goes like that throughout the rest of Legally Blonde, and through many other movies. When night falls, and Skylor has a headache from watching movies, she simply puts on one of her comfort movies and falls asleep herself. She wakes up with the worst crick in her neck, but Kai wakes up without quite so much weight on his shoulders, and she sees the usual spark in his eyes.

And that makes it worth it.

[jillsandwhichs]

valenfield fic , chap 9 , morning drive

masterlist

pairing: Jill Valentine & Chris Redfield

summary: when Jill's car won't start before work, she calls Chris for a helping hand

status of their relationship in this one shot: Close friends with evident feelings

wc: 2.1k

type: Sfw

a/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

"Shit... Start, dammit!" Jill spoke to herself, trying her best to get her car to start. Jill's car just didn't seem to wanna start this morning. Which is of course, just her luck, considering they have a meeting at work today. Captain Wesker also said it was important, so she really couldn't miss it.

"Why me?" Jill groaned out, placing her head against the leather, black steering wheel, gripping it with her hands. Thoughts on what to do roamed through Jill's head. She seriously couldn't miss work today.

Calling a cab wouldn't work, it's to early and there's no way Jill is gonna spend her last bit of cash. Walking there wasn't an option either, it's too far from her apartment and even if it was close, it is way to cold out to walk around in her uniform. She could potentially call someone to pick her up, but she doesn't wanna seem like a burden, it's 7 am, the last thing she wants to do is disturb somebody, but she may have to.

Opening the car door, Jill stepped out of it and breathed deeply, the cool, winter air hitting her face, goose bumps forming on her slender arms. It was winter time, which was always beautiful around here. The snow was never to bad either, the main issue was how cold it would get, and the ice. Icy roads are Jill's absolute worst nightmare.

All of the bushes and shrubs were covered in white, crystal looking snow. The ground wasn't icy though, thankfully. Even so, it was 32⁰ out, it was fucking cold, and Jill was dreading the day, especially if they end up having to go out on a mission, or have an emergency.

Wandering back into her apartment, Jill jogged up the stairs to her room, keeping it down to not awake the other people sleeping. She stuck her key into the door, unlocking it and stepping inside. "Alrighty..." Jill said to herself, sighing deeply as she headed towards her bed, sitting down on it and laying back, contemplating what she wanted to do.

She sat back up and sighed, running her slim fingers through her healthy, short brunette hair. "Jesus Christ, what am I going to do..." Jill mumbled to herself, standing up and pacing around her small, yet homey apartment.

There were very little people she could call to pick her up, and she had to choose, it's a last resort. Barry? Definitely not, he's either with his family, or already at work. Joseph? Also no, he lives to far to drive out of his way just to pick her up.

Same goes for Captain Wesker, he's picked her up before and definitely wasn't amused by it. Besides, she'd be especially nervous with him, knowing they have that meeting today. She most likely wouldn't be able to shut up and would consistently ask questions about it. Jill wasn't the type to get anxious, but when it comes to her job, she really does.

Convoying to the telephone, Jill picked it up, inputting a phone number before hastily placing the phone up to her ear. All she could do was hope the person she contacted would pick up. The woman felt somewhat like a problem for calling someone to pick her up, she felt like an idiot.

Three rings later, and he picked up. "Hello?" A man's voice was on the other line, sounding somewhat tired. It was Chris, one of Jill's very close friends. "Hey Chris, it's me, Jill." She said with a friendly tone, waiting for a response. "Jill? Hi, yeah, hey. Sorry, I should've realized." Chris chuckled over the line.

"No worries, it's been awhile since we've spoken over the phone. "Sure has been... Did ya need something?" Chris asked, his tone soft. "Yeah, but it's totally okay if you can't or don't want to... I was just gonna see, if it wasn't a problem, could you possibly swing by my place and pick me up? My car won't start..." Jill questioned, hesitation filled within in her voice.

"Oh, of course I can, are you already ready?" Chris questioned, his tone had seemed more gleeful than it had before. "Yeah, I am, when do you think you'll be here?" She asked him. "Ten minutes at most, I'll head out here in a minute." He spoke. "Okay then, I'll leave you to it... Thank you Chris, I seriously appreciate it." "Anytime Jill." The call then ended.

When the call ended, Jill couldn't help but smile to herself. Chris was probably her bestest friend, she couldn't wait to get some one on one time with him. She treaded towards her kitchen counter, grabbing her wallet and house key before going back outside of her apartment complex.

Where she lived was in the center of Raccoon City. Downtown RC was beautiful and Jill really enjoyed it. Unlike most people, Jill did prefer to live in the city. It felt more alive to her, it was also just much more convenient. More stores nearby, work places nearby. Whilst, if you live out in the country side, it's more gas and time, therefore more money, to even get to a gas station.

Sitting down, Jill sat on the steps of the building. They were set right in front of the parking lot, so she'd be able to see when he pulled in. Either way, Jill knows Chris has a small black car. She also knows Chris wants a truck eventually. Jill's never necessarily cared for cars, or the one that she wants to own. As long as it's running, she could care less about the model, or what year it is.

Jill also felt uneasy, knowing Captain Wesker had something important for the team to discuss today. What if they had another mission? Or had a change in their team? What if someone is fired? Many thoughts ran through her head. She just hopes it's nothing to out of the blue.

-

Around ten minutes later, Jill watched as Chris's car pulled into the parking lot. Expiring softly, she stood up, tucking her wallet in her jean pocket. Chris hopped out of his truck and wandered over to the front of the complex, gazing at Jill as she stood up from the staircase.

"Hi." Jill said with a warm tone. "Hey." Chris replied, smiling at Jill. "Listen, I'm sorry for making you go out of your way to pick me up, I just didn't know how else I'd get to work." Jill spewed out. As she went on, Chris placed his hand on her shoulder firmly, chuckling to himself, "Jill, it's alright, you're my friend, I'd do anything for you." He spoke with honesty.

"Now, come on, let's get you in my car, I don't need you freezing to death." Chris snickered, nudging her to follow him. Jill heaved and followed directly behind him, ambling up to his car. Chris opened the passenger side door for Jill, allowing her to get settled in.

He was a gentleman, he cared about taking care of people, especially his friends. Jill was one of his closest friends, probably his most close. When it came to Jill, he wanted to be there for her ; to care for her, which is why he agreed to pick her up in the first place. He'd do anything for her.

Climbing into the driver's seat, Chris grunted and peeped a look at Jill, noticing that she was staring out to car window, which had tiny, wet cicles dripping down from the brim of said window. The man turned the car back on and pulled out of the parking lot, beginning to drive on the mostly empty road. He turned his head to see Jill and decided to make conversation.

"You okay?" Chris questioned, holding the steering wheel with one hand, his other resting on the center console. Jill gazed over at Chris as he drove, "I'm okay, just nervous, you know, about the meeting today." "Oh the meeting? Jill, you ain't got nothing to worry about. You see, Wesker will say somethings important, then turns out it's something as little as were getting new uniforms, or were having changed shifts." He cackled, attempting to ease Jill's timidness.

"Okay." Jill exhaled, her anxiety being relieved by a bit. "Wanna listen to some music?" Chris asked, placing his thumb and index finger on the stereo. "Sure, why not." Jill responded, looking at Chris with a calm look. Chris turned the radio up, the song 'There She Goes...' by the La's began to play, in which, they both liked a lot.

"Love this song." Chris muttered out. "Me too." Jill replied. The two sat in silence as the song played through it's course, it was only about two and a half minutes long anyways. Silence between them wasn't awkward, rather peaceful and well rounded. They didn't feel the need to have to talk constantly in order to find a sense of comfort between them.

"I really hope we don't get new uniforms, I look stupid enough in this one as it is." Jill laughed out, making conversation. "Oh hush, you don't look stupid." Chris retorted, smirking to himself. "I definitely do." "You look pretty, so stop." Chris demanded in a playful tone. "Pretty? Pretty is an overstatement." Jill countered his words.

"What is it with girls and hating the way they look? I swear, you and my sister would get along great! She's always like, "I'm so fat!" Or "Ew, why do I look like that?" As if she's not a good looking girl, I don't get it." Chris ranted, not in a mean way, rather a loving way. "It's just a girl's thing, I guess." Jill tittered. "I suppose so." Chris chuckled.

The next song to start playing was 'Runnin Down a Dream' by Tom Petty, whom Jill had happened to like a lot. "Oh I love Tom Petty." Jill spoke with glee in her voice. "My little sister does too, I definitely have to get you two to meet, she'd love you." Chris said with earnest in his tone. "She seems like a gem." Jill replied, giving Chris a look that made him feel so light and nervous, which no one ever makes him feel.

Chris gave her a look as well - his brown eyes full with kind heartedness and genuine care, his eyes were always full of those whilst looking at Jill.

"I'm dreading work today." Jill groaned out, looking away from Chris, the tension between the two breaking as she did. "I know you are." He chortled, turning the car into the correct lane. "How do you go to work everyday feeling happy? Or just being cool with it? I don't know, you always seem content with it." Jill expressed.

"I look at the positives to it. I make money, I learn things, I socialize, I see my friends... I see you..." Chris responded to her long question. "See me? That's a positive to your day?" Jill asked, surprise in her voice. "Well, I mean, yeah... Is that a bad thing? Is it weird?" "No, no, not at all, you saying that means a lot, I feel the same way." Jill spoke, trying to put her feelings out in some capacity.

The man couldn't help but smile to himself when she had said that, he wasn't alone in that feeling. Chris didn't particularly know how he felt about Jill. He knew he loved her, but in what way? Friendship? Romance? Both? Either way, Jill was very special to him, and he'd never let the precious bond of theirs go.

Jill also didn't know how she had felt for him. Chris was the first man she'd question her care and love for. Not necessarily in a bad way though, just in the sense of how? Is more than how a friend should feel for another friend? Is it how a lover should feel for their lover? Is it a combo of both? Jill hasn't quite settled on it yet.

Pulling into the parking lot, Chris sighed and cleared his throat, unlocking both of their doors before stepping out of his truck, trotting to Jill's side and helping her out. Gusts of cold, winter air hit the two of them rapidly. "Jeez..." Jill shivered. "Yeah, jeez is right." Chris laughed.

Gandering up at him, Jill began to speak with a kind tone, "Once again Chris, thank you for driving me to work today... I seriously appreciate it." Chris looked down at her and leaned up against his car, "Anything for you." He gave her a smirk. "Let's get you inside, you're clearly freezing." He chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

She giggled and blushed slightly, the two walking into the R.P.D building, side by side.

[welldonebeca]

Miss, PhD (X)

WC: 1.3k words Warnings: Fluff. Steve being a dumbass. Slow burn. Mutual pining.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

Steve’s heart picked up pace inside his chest when you looked up at him through the little glass window of the lab door, and couldn’t fight off the huge grin that came to his face when you smiled cheerily at him, looking just as happy to see him as he was to see you.

Before you could leave your work, he opened the door, and was met with a gush of very cold air as you quickly moved to his side, holding a coat and glasses.

“Hi,” you spoke, sounding excited. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” he squeezed the strap of his backpack closer. “Am I disturbing you?”

Should he be here? Maybe he was bothering you?

Before he could go too deeply into his anxious thoughts, you answered him.

“No!” you shook your head. “Come in. Is it too cold for you? Do you want me to turn it down?”

Steve denied quickly. Yes, it was cold, but not too much - not enough to make him uncomfortable, at least.

“You should put on the PPE,” you instructed him, showing it to you. “It’s a rule, and I’m messing with some fuels here.”

He nodded, and put his backpack over a couple of high seats, right beside yours, and placed your gift over it, putting on the coat you’d offered him and the glasses.

“Is this your PhD thing?” he asked, unsure of what to say.

You looked at him and them at the bunch of lab stuff Steve didn’t even know how to name.

“Yeah,” you agreed slowly, sounding a little less happy. “It’s just… hm…”

You stopped, breathing in and out, and then looked up at him.

“It’s boring,” you decided. “You don’t want to know about it.”

Steve watched you with a bit of surprise.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I heard about your other project, the generator, and it was great. This one looks just as interesting.”

He had looked around a bit to find out what your first thesis was about, and found out you had actually made an eco-friendly power generator powered by the sun, to bring electricity to small communities that are somehow too isolated to get it in the conventional way. It was, indeed, very interesting.

“I’m trying to find a new fuel,” you sighed. “It’s not very fun. You don’t want me to explain it.”

Steve just nodded, not wanting to press on the subjected, and looked at your face when you glanced up at his.

“And what brings you here?” you asked. “Not that I’m not happy to see you here, but I’ve never seen you in this side of the Campus.”

He felt his cheeks warming up, hoping he wasn’t blushing too much.

“I was waiting for you to show up around my side of campus,” he confessed. “But I guess you were a little busy.”

You cringed, looking embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised to him. “I needed to cram up the work of the last six months into a week.”

He smiled a little, quick to comfort you. He wouldn’t want you to feel like he was upset that you were doing something wrong. Honestly, it was surprising that you even showed up around his side of campus every day, considering you had your own routine.

“It’s alright,” he assured you. “I just enjoy your visits.”

Your eyes gleamed and you beamed up.

“Really?” you asked.

“Yeah,” Steve couldn’t help the smile growing on his face. “I like your company.”

You looked away, smiling a little more, and he cleared his throat.

“I got you something,” he said quickly, stepping away from you and in the direction of his stuff, picking the gift up and trying not to squeeze it too hard. “It’s nothing much, but it was your birthday.”

Your eyes grew wide, and your mouth opened in strong surprise.

“You got me a gift?” you repeated.

Steve nodded, raising the green-wrapped present closer to you, and your eyes shifted from his face to his hands and back before taking it from his hands, looking like you were trying to keep yourself from showing up too much emotion.

He watched silently as you untied the little bow the store lady had done, and pulled the fabric plant hangers out from inside, letting out a little happy sound as you touched it, rubbing your fingers over the knitted fabric.

“It’s so soft,” you spoke under your breath and smiled largely at him. “Thank you so much, mister Rogers!”

He cringed at the name, looking away from you. It felt so weird to hear you saying that to him, to have you calling him by a title and not just his name.

“There is something else too,” he said quickly.

You looked back at the paper, and watched as he pulled the green box from inside, a little hesitant.

“I saw it at the store and thought of you,” he confessed, tense.

Steve was a little anxious about that necklace. You were a millionaire and could buy any jewellery that you wanted, so it was a little scary to give something like that to you.

“Can I open it?” you asked.

He nodded, and you opened the box with delicate fingers, reading the words of the box silently and then resting a single finger over the small lotus flower.

“I know you like plants,” he explained. “And the lotus…”

You looked up at his face again, eyes shining and curious, and he cleared his throat.

Steve had looked for the meaning of the lotus when he found the gift - to make sure it didn’t offend you - and was surprised when it reminded him so deeply of you.

“You told me your childhood was complicated,” he spoke slowly, a little hesitant. “And... uh… well, I could see in a few of your pictures how sometimes things weren’t the best for you. But you still grew to be a wonderful person.”

Steve looked at your face again, and swallowed down as he realised you were watching him in awe.

“And what I know of the lotus is that, even when it is in the dirtiest waters,” he continued, feeling a little more confident. “It still blooms beautiful.”

You smiled, averting your gaze back to the piece.

“Thank you, Mister Rogers,” you spoke softly.

“Please,” he interrupted you. “Call me Steve.”

You nodded, breathing slowly.

“Thank you, Steve.”

He relaxed, and bit his lower lip as he watched you taking the necklace from the box and putting it on, just happy when you showed it to him.

“Beautiful,” he told you. “Just like you.”

You looked away, flushing, and he shifted on his feet, no knowing what to say now, and you two fell into a comfortable silence before you turned to him a little hesitantly.

“Steve,” you spoke slowly. “I need to get done with this. And I like your company, but you’re very distracting.”

His eyes widened, and he stood up quickly, a little embarrassed.

“Oh,” he spoke quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother you.”

You shook your head quickly.

“Really, you don’t,” you assured him. “But you distract me a lot. In a good way.”

Steve bit his lips, closing then in a thin line to stop himself from smiling.

“Do you want to eat some day?” you asked. “Maybe once I’m done with this mess? Or part of it?”

“I would love to,” he added quickly.

He liked spending time with you. A lot.

“Let me send you a text,” you moved quickly to a shelf, picking your phone from it. “So that you can have my number.”

Steve confirmed quickly, and pulled his phone from his backpack, reciting his number back to you and waiting, trying not to grin when he saw your text, quickly adding your name to his contact list.

“I’ll text you,” he looked up at your face.

“I’ll be waiting,” you smiled.

Steve nodded, trying not to look too excited.

Honestly, he could barely wait.

. . .

"Miss, PhD" was posted on my Patreon back on January! To read the full story before anyone else and have early access to all of my works, subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month!

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​​​ @amythyststorm33​​​ @shaelyn102​​​ @yknott81​​​ ​​ @maximofftrash​​​ @kgbrenner​​​ @thefridgeismybestie​​​ @magpiegirl80​​​ @mogaruke​​​ @shadowhunter7​​​ @musicalcoffeebean​​​ @megasimpleplan4ever​​​ @deemoriarty​​​ @05spn18​​​ @malindacath​​​ @kdcollinsauthor​​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​​ @widowsfics​​​ @frozenhuntress67​​​ @averyrogers83​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @giruvega

Marvel forever tags: @its-daydreamer23​​​ ​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​​ @tayrae515​​​? @indecisiondecisions​​​? @afanofmanystuffs​​​? @patzammit​​​? @thevanishedillusion​​​? @widowsfics​​​? @alexisshoto​​​ @princess-evans-addict​​​ @dreams-of-feysand​​​ @xoxabs88xox​​​ @dragonqueen0606​ @izbelross @isabelle-faith

Miss PhD: @cosmic-darikano

[asterhaze]

Ok I GOTTA ask about Glen "The Stupid Sexy Vampire" (<- awesome nickname). 3 and 5 for the pride ask game?? :-)

Thank you, thank you but I can't take credit for the nickname. @doublegoblin (I hope you don't mind that I tagged you here) called Glen a "stupid sexy vampire" in a reply to this post and it is honestly the best description for that character that I've ever heard. I felt it so deeply that my soul has yet to recover. Moving on.

3. How did your oc discover themself? Did something cause them to question, or did they always know?

While it might have been something Glen actively tried to fight until his teenage years, or pretend away, he's always known.

5. How did you figure out your oc's identity?

Honestly, it developed as I wrote the character. Glen just seems like a dude who should love and lust after anyone who seems worthy, regardless of gender. Most of my other characters developed the same way, settling elsewhere on the spectrum.

If you want to read a little anxious ramble expanding the above, click below. There is mention of me having sensitivity readers to avoid certain age/power dynamic relationships, but it's mostly just me being nervous about being seen in a bad light when I'm really trying hard to be responsible. Thank you for reading and asking if you stop here!

I do want to put this out there because I worry about it when talking about such an old character and their sexuality. I am keenly aware as a writer that age and power/status muddies things and I've made sure Glen considers these things when choosing his partners. He may be stupid and sexy but he cares about people and doesn't want them to feel stuck, used, or heavily persuaded in any type of relationship with him.

I do, genuinely, think it is irresponsible as someone who is nearly 30 to paint abusive relationships in a good light and to target them to young impressionable audiences as something they should shoot for. I do read a lot of disturbing books and I see nothing wrong with writing an abusive relationship that exposes the harm these types of relationships can do, exploring the trauma and consequences, and the characters remaining together because the book is an exploration of those relationships. But I do think pushing young adults believe abusive relationships are desirable is just plain wrong, and one of the reasons my draft has so many sensitivity readers looking over it.

Currently, I have sensitivity readers who are bisexual, trans, non-binary, aroace, and/or a twin to check over my work and make sure I am not being insensitive or hurtful by accident. I am trying, but I might still mess up. As always, let me know and I will fix any issues I have put in immediately.

[kingedwardvi]

•Edward VI’s relationship with his father, King Henry VIII.•

We are more than aware that Henry VIII’s relationship with his daughters, queens Mary I and Elizabeth I, were turbulent, affecting not only their queenships but their own relationship. However, what is not often discussed is the impact Henry VIII’s relationship with his son Edward left on him.

More than often we think that, because Edward was his father’s favourite child, he earned his attention more often. However, this is not true. Henry VIII rarely saw his “precious” and noble son, over whom he expected to carry on the Tudor dynasty. This is too much a pressure to rely on a child, even so to one born in royalty. Edward played a double effort to outstand his peers in education and not rarely did he try to make his regal father proud. The future young king also wrote him letters—letters that were not answered because his father was often away to write him back. We are also told that, through his education, he was not only instructed to emule Henry VIII’s virtues, but also to avoid his vices. Overall, this is a boy trying to earn his absent father’s praises, trying to look at his image in order to be not good, but excellent in every subject—whether being in Latin or in other fields of life.

Skidmore, thus, presents how this relationship impacted deeply in Edward VI’s years before king, an impact that left unseen scars as we come to know whenever we study Mary I and Elizabeth I’s lives and their respective reigns. As we see on the following excerpts of his biography of Edward VI:

“But it was the ever-dominant figure of his father who left him truly awestruck. Whilst Henry had been absent on campaign in France, Edward worried whether to write, lest he disturb him with his 'boyish letters'. Eventually he summoned the courage, writing how he hoped his letter would bring Henry refreshment after his weary campaign, 'For, seeing you are a loving and kind father to me ... I hope I shall prove to you a most dutiful son’. A week later he wrote again, this time wishing peace, 'because I should hope to visit you sooner, and because you would have rest and recreation'. 

All these were no doubt genuine expressions of a son's love starved of affection by his absent father. He was anxious, he told Henry, 'to be assured that you are safe and well; for, though I have some reliance on the hearing of the ear, yet I have more confidence in my own eyes'.

Henry did not reply, but wrote to Katherine instead to relay the news of his successful siege at Boulogne, adding, 'I am too busy to write more but send blessings to all my children’.  When Henry finally returned from France, Edward wrote to his father overjoyed: 'I have heard that I am to visit your majesty ... I now obtain my second wish. My first wish was, that you and your kingdom might have peace; and secondly, that I might see you. These done, I shall be happy.’ 

There is no evidence that Henry ever bothered to reply, but in the only expression of affection he knew, he continued to lavish his son with expensive presents, which Edward gratefully acknowledged, writing: 'You have treated me so kindly, like a most loving father, and one who would wish me always to act rightly. I also thank you that you have given me great and costly gifts, as chains, rings, jewelled buttons, neck-chains, and breast-pins, and necklaces, garments, and very many other things; in which things and gifts is conspicuous your fatherly affection towards me; for, if you did not love me, you would not give me these fine gifts of jewellery.’

Henry's magnificent tastes were fashioning Edward's own lifestyle. The prince had grown up surrounded by splendour and beauty; the walls of his rooms were hung with Flemish tapestries depicting classical and biblical scenes that Henry had confiscated from Cardinal Wolsey; he ate only from the finest quality cutlery, set with precious stones (...). His clothes were fashioned only from the best materials - delicate cloths of gold embroidered with silver that sparkled with pearls, emeralds, diamonds and rubies, so much so that one French observer later recalled how when Edward moved through the court, entire rooms sparkled. Even the buttons of his clothes were made from solid gold and his caps were garnished with diamonds and sapphires, but perhaps his most prized possession was a dagger of gold that he wore hung from a rope of pearls, its sheath garnished with dia-monds, rubies and emeralds, with a large speckled green stone embedded in the hilt.

It is probably this dagger that Edward holds in a portrait painted at Ashridge around 1546. Standing between a windowsill and an ornate classical styled column, Edward's puffed up poise is as entirely contrived as that of his father's. One can almost imagine the artist directing the prince to hold his shoulders high and breathe deeply, staring straight at the easel. To create the effect, the many layers of Edward's clothes seem too large for him, heavy and burdensome. 

But the symbolism of the picture rides above the implausibility of the situation, for its message is that Edward will inherit Henry's mantle as king to continue the Tudor dynasty. No more clearly is this highlighted than in the position of Edward's left hand, directing the viewer's attention to his modest but nevertheless prominent codpiece, a symbol of his increasing virility and power as he approached adolescence and adulthood.

In fact, few could have realized then that within a year Edward would have taken his father's place as king. In August 1546 Henry decided that Edward, not quite nine years old, should perform his first official duty, receiving the French Admiral on his arrival for a state visit at Hampton Court. It was to be his first royal rite of passage and Edward's induction into the ceremonial life at court. 

He prepared assiduously, nervously writing to Katherine - did the Admiral understand Latin? 'For, if he does, I should wish to learn further what I may say to him’. Above all, he did not want to let his father down.

He had prayed to God, he told Katherine, that he would be able to satisfy his expectations.”

SKIDMORE, C. “Edward VI: The Lost King of England”.

[sunnysssol]

Tag Game To Better Know You! Send this to people you’d like to know better!

Tagged by three different people AHWJFIDJ @gremlins-hotel , @fumblingmusings and @modernday-jay !!! Thank you guys for the tag! 💖 Sorry it took me a while to get to it 😭 depression on top of hell week is a different kind of beast. Anyway! Onwards!!

What book are you currently reading?

☆ I haven't read much books at all this year, but I really wanna pick up Dune again! I got halfway through Dune Messiah in 2020 and it's been forever 😭 My reading list is ever expanding, I just really need to find time and motivation 🥲

What’s your favorite movie that you saw in theatres this year?

☆ I have not gone to the theaters at all this year! I've been out and about but yeah. All the movies I watched this year were watched from the comfort of my own bedroom. But as for my favorite movie this year, it's either "Pearl" by Ti West or "Everything, Everywhere, All At Once" by Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert. I liked Pearl better than X just because... Idk, I think I was more disturbed by the emotional drama than the actual story LOL and as for EEAAO, that one is a classic I feel like I've seen at least five mutuals rave about it JDJCJ and it's well deserved! I wanted to watch it with family but I kept chickening out– it hits a little too close to home I think 🥲 then there's Incantation too, that movie had some really unsettling imagery and I got really invested into the story of the main character trying her absolute hardest to save her daughter against the powers of a hostile otherworldly being. It's really neat!

What do you usually wear?

☆ I live in a tropical country, so it's the shirt-shorts-flip flops combo usually LOL although once in a while I'll switch it up and wear pajama pants :p

How tall are you?

☆ I'm 5'3", or 160 cm !!!

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

☆ Cancer! Not sure about any celebrities, but I do share my birthday with the debut of the Northrop Grumman B-2 Spirit in 1989 ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and I thought that was cool LOL

Do you go by your name or a nick-name?

☆ I go by Sol, which is more of a pseudonym than a nickname. But I also use Marie, which *is* a shorter version of my real name and also, I have used "Peppa" very recently because my profile pictures when I was in the middle of my "join as many discord servers as possible" phase was Peppa Pig and it stuck 😭

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

☆ Not yet, but i'm getting there! Getting that education and whatnot 🤓

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

☆ I am deeply in love with one Alfred F. Jones ☝

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?

☆ I'm good at everything but also bad at everything 💖 I hope that helps!

Dogs or cats?

☆ I can't choose 😭 they are both so important to me actually

What’s something you would like to create content for?

☆ (VIBRATES WITH BARELY CONTAINED EXCITEMENT AND CREATES A LOW HUMMING SOUND) uh yknow. stuff

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

☆ The Walking Dead!!! But also, perhaps cartoons because I've been watching Adventure Time and Bluey 🗿

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

☆ Not to be a downer but this year as a whole sucked LOL some significant highlights in the lows of course (e.g. meeting my besties, getting back into an old beloved fandom, etc), but I just really thought things would be different by now. Guess not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

☆ All talents are hidden if you're anxious enough 😏 (it's lying. for some reason people always believe me 😭 I only use it for stupid shit too so HEJFJD)

Are you religious?

☆ Religion interests me, if not for the historical and cultural impact then maybe for the art that is created because of it! My religious background is Roman Catholicism, born and raised and all that, but my family stopped going to church a while back and we haven't gone back since unless it was for a wedding or a baptism. Do I believe in the Christian God? Not really... I do believe there is a higher power out there, if that makes sense. I just don't subscribe to the ideas of any religion. I guess this makes me agnostic.

What’s something you wish to have at this moment?

☆ 600 million dollars in my bank account 💅

Tagging @myrddin-wylt , @daisy-dumpling , @majormeilani , @j0succ and whoever else wants to do it!! 💖 and if I tagged you there's no pressure to do this !! Jdjfjfjf 💖💖💖

[fragmentedstarsofficial]

ABOUT FRAGMENTED STARS

—

Fragmented Stars is a two arc series featuring four spectrums and their efforts to stop multiverse shattering events. But do not be fooled by this summery, this story is stuffed with mature themes and topics that might disturb folks younger than fifteen.

My name is Samuel/Anomaly and I put three years of love into this story and I hope that it is able to make a difference in other peoples lives! Feel free to ask any questions <3

Fragmented Stars link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48023281

read below to get some information regarding this series ^w^

ABOUT THE MAIN FOUR:

(Designs are subject to change as the arcs process)

KETO:

Keto Blu, is an anxious spectrum who struggles it’s his self worth. It’s clearly evident when you read his POV chapters 😬 He is 23 years old and is Cishet. He is very close to Razzy and while he doesn’t say it much, He really cares for her deeply. (😏) but he is hiding something…

RAZZY:

Razzy, is upbeat and very optimistic. She is 24 years old and Cishet. She is very understanding and likes being on the move. She owns a clothing store in Spearlight, which is primarily why she wears a t-shirt. She is Keto’s best friend and strives to make sure that he is comfortable, unfortunately that doesn’t always work.

TATTERS:

Tatters is a terrifying force of nature. She is canonically autistic, so expect goofiness. She is 23 years old and a Cis lesbian. She aspires to be a professional EDM artist but has yet to commit herself fully to her dream. She is a stoner but says it’s just for fun. (No she is not okay 🙁)

SCARLET:

Scarlet LaFoster, is very guarded and distant, if you can’t tell from her character profile. She is 25 and is a Cis lesbian. She has trouble expressing herself and lashing out due to her tough past, but she’s trying!

—

want more content related to my characters? Take a look at my YouTube channel!

—

I hope you enjoy my work! If possible! Do spread the word of my novel and this blog! It would make me very happy! :D

[nookishposts]

Hit Pause

I haven't been able to really write in some time and there are reasons. My life is on a pause for the next while, because my brain and body made me do it; I was not listening so they ganged up to make their point.

I was sitting at work one day, after a series of back-to-back respiratory viruses had left me physically depleted, and suddenly I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing. My mind went blank and the simplest tasks slipped away into a maze of confusion. It was scary. I went to see my primary care provider and together we began to untangle the knots that had choked me into a complete stop. She is a smart cookie and knew the right questions to ask. She also had had an eerily similar experience herself, for which I remain very grateful as it means she "gets" what I have a hard time explaining. Including the brutal self-recrimination part.

(I was raised in the era of the Protestant work ethic motto of "Suck it up Buttercup" meaning I went to work no matter what, without complaint because that's what was expected. Taking time off was akin to weakness, in mind and body and that was shameful. We didn't want to let our co-workers down, or miss a paycheck. In those days, employers had the same expectation and could find ways to fire a person they saw as "slacking" if it interfered with production. Thankfully, workplace laws are different now and workers are a bit more protected.)

There were a number of contributing factors. I'd said goodbye to the massage and reflexology practice that had sustained me for 27 years, and with which I had defined myself more than I realised. I/we had experienced a huge number of significant deaths over a period of 10 months, people who had been key figures in my life; family members, mentors, teachers, and contemporaries: I stopped counting after we hit 20. I had taken on a full time job with a health centre I believed in and had worked for previously in a part time capacity, a job that I was very pleased to get, but one that shifted constantly.

Repeated viruses tanked my immune system. I stopped sleeping more than a couple of hours a night and awakened choking on mucus and flailing from nightmares. My muscles and joints hurt and I didn't digest food properly, leaving me with constant nausea and poor nutritional uptake. I fought to get up and just kept trying to push through each dizzying day, but ended up calling in sick more and more often. I became anxious and angry at myself for feeling so vulnerable: because anger is easier than admitting fear. It bothered me deeply that my wonderful office mate and our exceptional manager kept having to cover my ass and that clients, volunteers, and programs were left waiting. Even my teeth were crumbling. From clenching everything back into my throat and lungs. And my soul.

And then I stopped being able to think at all, or remember the simplest things.

I went numb in order to cope.

Blood work revealed that my vitamin D stores were 20% of what they needed to be. I tan easily and figured I was getting enough D from being outside a lot on our micro-farm. Nope. Symptoms of D deficiency include: joint pain and swelling, muscle weakness, tingling and numbing of hands and feet, cognitive issues, disturbed sleep architecture, extreme fatigue and cramping muscle spasms. My practitioner was smart enough to order the test based on a hunch, and she was bang-on. Suddenly a whole lot of seeming unconnected symptoms made perfect sense. Its a slow cumulative deficiency. I am now taking 5 times the daily recommended dose of D and it's starting to make a difference after only a couple of weeks. It's going to take time to get me where I need to go. I am still not sleeping and hence undergoing Cognitive Behaviour Therapy for chronic insomnia. Medications don't work for this, it's a matter of re-setting the sleep drive with careful steps over time, and knowing that it gets worse before it gets better.

But my brain remained in overwhelm drive.

In a flash of inspiration I called my therapist from decades ago, to see if by some chance she was still practising and would agree to see me on zoom, to teach me some better coping strategies. She is, and she does, thank heavens! She knows me and we can skip the preliminaries and get right into things. She also dovetails really well with my primary care practitioner and they tag team me. Together they added to the list of official diagnoses, Compassion Fatigue, which I'd only dimly heard of. I had not had time to grieve and process between the deaths of loved ones, so a cumulative effect swamped me into feeling nothing at all. I was offered the analogy of hitting my thumb with a hammer...the pain is so extreme that you don't even feel it at first because your body goes into protective mode until you can catch up. It was also pointed out to me that I'd put a great deal of my creative and caring energies into a successful practice over 27 years and having to let it go had taken a significant piece of my identity with it. I'd specialised in working with people for whom massage had been challenging: people with body dysmorphia due to illness, trauma, size, scars, age, etc. I missed them. I missed listening, easing seized and painful muscles, and supporting others as they became more comfortable with themselves through patience and practice, one gentle , non-judgemental step at a time.

Which I now need to do for myself. Irony of ironies.

I am at that age where elders and contemporaries are getting sick and dying, it's a statistical inevitability. But these rapidly disappearing loved ones were not acquaintances, they were all people who had impacted my life significantly and helped form the person I am still becoming. They represent to some degree my history and my story. Even now, I find myself picking up the phone to call or text, or composing an email, forwarding a joke, needing to ask a question or seek advice from someone who has moved on to whatever comes after the death of the body. I can put the phone down, but I can't remove their names from my contact lists. Reminders and triggers are everywhere. Rather than fight or deny them, I try to allow them to be part of the shifting kaleidoscope that contributes to my new normal. Growth means change, and some of that means loss. I grieve not just for myself but for the families and friends of those key people. Too many, too quickly.

I have the luxury of medically-endorsed time off. EI sick benefits are coming soon. I have been instructed to rest, eat simply, not think too hard, just allow thoughts and feelings to surface without judgement or analysis. To doodle freely and bypass expectations. That's not easy for a usually over-busy brain like mine. I have to take my vitamins, not push myself, not make any big decisions for a while. Thankfully, my Beloved also gets it, and is gently supportive, watching me slowly return to the person she has lovingly invested so much in. The stony, stoic flatness I experienced was unnerving for her too. My body remains exhausted and unpredictable, my short term memory and word-finding skills still suck and I have to remind myself that it's okay to not be okay. Having met a couple of people who have been through something like this, really helps me feel validated in the amount time it will take to become well again. Regarding my employment work situation, I have been reminded : "Its not your job to take care of them. It's theirs." Okay.

If I am fortunate, I will get another 25-30 years on the planet and I want to spend them well, especially since they seem to go so fast. The last thing I want to be fighting is myself. Managing perceived expectations versus the glorious sticky mess of human reality is a fool's game and can make a person sick. And it can all be gone in a heartbeat anyway, in spite of our best intentions. Savour it all.

Pay attention when your body speaks. Give your brain a break. Love yourself enough to be appreciative of all that you are, and forgive what you aren't. We are so much better at offering these axioms than living them. Learning the hard way is still learning.

[doodleimprovement]

AHIT Victorian AU :: Act 3 :: Does the Lord Dream?

Short answer: yes Long answer: Read ahead :)

-

Lukas was not a dreamer. 

As in, he did not dream. 

He’d never really been one for dreams as a child. 

And anything he did remember tended to disturb and trouble him. 

He didn’t quite like it, really. 

And tonight was no different. 

The chains on him were the common denominator

He was never free in his dreams, despite reality's insistence at that change in his circumstances. 

At first, there was just one eye staring down at him, asking him if what he was doing was worth it. He answered yes. 

Another eye opened. And asked again. He answered yes. 

Another eye. Asked again. Answered yes. 

Eye. Question. Answer

He was then told, in hundreds of voices, to be cautious - for if any more was taken for the forest, it would return the favor two fold. 

His daughter’s terrified screams rung in his ears like the church bells at a funeral, echoing endlessly in the space. He couldn’t see them. He couldn’t move

He couldn’t even scream back-

“No!” he practically screamed, sitting up in bed with his chest heaving 

His eyes were wide, his hair wild and in his face. 

His daughter’s had never been in his dreams before. They were blissfully left out of those nightmares until now. 

He rubbed his head, almost instinctively getting out of bed and approaching his balcony 

He looked out at the moonlit wood, but did not linger. 

He turned, leaving his room and taking a few steps down the hall, seeing that his daughter’s door was open. 

Something in his chest felt anxious, and he pushed the door open with caution. 

“Who's there?” 

Beatriz

“It is me” he voiced, pushing the door open further “It is quite late, I wanted to see if you were awake, as your door was open” 

“Oh... Uh, Hattie went downstairs to get me some water, cause uh, I woke her up on accident” 

“Did you have a bad dream?” he asked, careful to keep his voice calm. 

She nodded. 

“Did you not wish to come to me?” 

“.. I know you aren’t sleeping well. We didn’t wanna bother you” 

Lukas sighed deeply, rubbing his face, and sitting himself down on the bed

“Beatriz. I am your father”

“Not yet, the paper isn’t back” 

“Retroactively, then” He pressed “Your well-being is my most important responsibility. Sleep be damned. If it meant that you felt safe, I would never sleep again” 

“Don’t do that!” She earnestly startled, getting a small chuckle from him 

“I do not, but your bad dreams, and comforting those dreams, are a part of my life. Something I am glad to go as your Papa” 

Something in her expression told him she didn’t believe him. Not yet anyway. 

“Can you come here?” 

She thought for a moment, before crawling over to him, and he gathered her into his arm, and she latched onto him almost immediately. 

“Is there anything that I can do?” He asked her, her head falling onto his shoulder and getting a relaxed sigh. 

“.. This is good” Bea answered

He heard footsteps, and turned just as Hattie came into the room 

“Huh?” 

“Put down the cup and come hither, Harriet. It seems we are all not sleeping quite well tonight.” He offered his free hand to her. 

She blinked tiredly, but did as she was told, depositing the cup on a bedside table before padding over to the other side of the bed, and crawling up into her father’s lap with a firm hug. 

He held his daughters in his arms quite effortlessly, making the motion to stand, and resting himself back down towards the center of the bed, letting gravity do the rest of the work, and leaning back with a “thump” onto the thick sheets. That got a small giggle out of Harriet, and her father placed a kiss on her forehead. 

“You were being a good sister, but next time, simply tell your father you’re awake, hm?” 

Harriet just grumbled “But you already don’t sleep” 

“I am an adult. I can handle it just fine” 

“But…” “No buts” He stated, turning his head and kissing Bea’s head next “You as well. Can you promise me that you will come to me for this sort of thing?” 

“Hmmmm we’ll try” 

He huffed a bit, but could not find it in himself to be mad

He laid there, daughters on either side, with nothing but their breathing being able to effortlessly chase away that horrid dream. Their screams but a distance itch in the back of his head.

God, that paperwork could not be certified fast enough.

[plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms]

Are requests still open?? This idea has been rolling around in my head and I honestly think it’s influenced lightly by Little Blue Ribbons because that’s my favorite comfort fic (read multiple times 😅) anyways.. here it is:

Reader, Bucky and Steve are all super close friends from childhood. Before they were shipped out to war, Bucky asked reader to be his gf and she says yes (but feels guilty because steve). So they go and “die” their respective canon deaths and she somehow makes it to present times, maybe mutant reader. She’s there when Steve comes out of the ice and they resume close friendship, but end up together and actually get married. Then they find Bucky during that fight and they’re just 🤯🤯 so of course guilt ensues but they keep looking for him. When Bucky is back to being Bucky he realizes they’re married and hes like sad but not because he loves them both and they deserve to be happy. In my head this definitely ends with Stuckyxreader but would be happy to read whatever fits best.

After reading this I realize maybe this is longer than a drabble idea 😅 it’s okay if you don’t write it, just needed to get it out of my head 😌

I am so incredibly flattered that LBR is your favorite comfort fic and you re-read it. I'm so soft!

This does sound a little too close to the storyline for LBR though and would definitely be more of a multi-part rather than a drabble so I'm afraid I can't write this for you.

HOWEVER!

This sounds to me like an alternate timeline from my LBR series where Steve isn't an absolute ass. So in the spirit of the MCU's fondness for multiverse shenanigans, I offer you headcannons for......

AN AU TO MY LBR AU!

What the hell would you even call that?

Anyway... I hope you like it!

Do not copy, translate, or repost.

Steve would still be infuriatingly oblivious to your affections. He's a bit busy trying to make something of himself. Bucky though was always a smooth motherfucker so he would definitely turn up the charm with you right away.

You thought at first that you were only attracted to Steve. He was the first one to come to your rescue when you were kids being bullied in the playground so the attachment was automatically there.

Sure you found Bucky just as attractive, but you always thought that he was just teasing you whenever he flirted. You didn't think that a girl like you would catch his eye for real.

So when Bucky asked you out on a legit date and for you to his girl, you practically broke out in hives at how flattered you were at the unexpected invite. You leaned in to the attraction you felt for him that you thought was far fetched.

You said yes and you and Bucky were a thing for a long time and in the beginning you felt guilty because you didn't want Steve to feel like a third wheel.

When Steve started talking about Peggy, that guilt went away and you would pester him to go on double dates.

You fell deeply in love with Bucky. How could you not? He made it so easy for you to love him. Steve was genuinely happy for you both. There was nothing like seeing his two bestfriends be so happy.

When they both died, it completely destroyed you. You lost two of the greatest men you have ever met at the same time. You lost your loves. You lost your bestfriends. You were all alone now.

When decades later you meet Steve again after he was defrosted, it's awkward and confusing but you clung together due to loss. No one in the world could relate to the loss you both felt, to the feeling to displacement, to the feeling that you were both always incomplete. It was only you two who could relate to each other.

It was only when you met Steve again that your pain started to heal. You healed together and built a life where you could find happiness again.

Steve wouldn't go for Peggy or Sharon in this timeline. From the moment he got out of the ice, he attached himself to you like a baby duck. Instant devotion. Unshakeable with the realization that underneath him chasing his purpose, he had always loved you.

You get married because Steve is insistent. If he was going to be living in any century then it would be by your side. To him, there was a profound reason for you both to somehow meet again. He wasn't gonna fuck that up.

When you find Bucky in all his Winter Soldier splendor, you charged right at him while Steve stood in shock. Your instinctive response was to get him and figure out the rest later.

It was a confusing time for you both. You were happy that somehow Bucky was alive, horrified at what Hydra had turned him into, and anxious at how he would react when he finds out that his girlfriend was now married to his bestfriend.

When Bucky surfaces from the mind control and does find out though, he forces a smile. He tried to act happy for you both but in reality he felt like he had been robbed.

It wasn't that you were married to Steve. It was that he was taken away from you. That should have been him.

In any case he wasn't the same man that he was before. He was broken and deeply disturbed, but his love for you didn't fade one bit even with the countless times he was put in that chair. There was nothing he could offer you. At least not yet.

The relationship between the three of you takes a turn after Bucky spends time to heal in Wakada. He was much better now, his mind much clearer. He was deserving to love you now.

You and Steve welcome him with open arms. You had both been patiently waiting for Bucky to be ready and you knew he would be eventually.

The three of you realize that though you had been happy in your respective relationships, there was always just a small part of you that needed the other to be included.

It was always meant to be the three of you.

[andraaste]

I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 13

Thing promised, thing due ! It’s not your daily maana but chapter 13 of I am not your enemy which is available !

Happy reading 😉

(there's a joke that unfortunately doesn't work in English, don't be too mad on this handsome vampire please)

Chapter 13 : You always trusted him

Realizing immediately that something was wrong, the dragon eyed me worriedly, totally hypnotizing me with his icy gaze. My heart raced far more than it should at the feel of his fingers on my skin and his scent against me, the images from last night starting to loop in my head as the vampire's words still made my throat tight.

Feeling unable to answer for the moment, I quickly walked around his large stature that blocked me in order to enter the room, divided between several contradictory emotions.

That night I had let Lance see me fully and it terrified me. I wasn't just talking about my nudity. He had seen my wounds, my limits, my deepest fears, and despite the shame it caused in me, I let him do it, urging him to enter my head, my heart. Meeting him here made my hands sweaty, I didn't know how to react. I felt both euphoric and anxious to find myself in his presence. Besides, my exchange with Nevra had once again proved disastrous, which made my stomach bitter.

I definitely didn't know how to react.

Trying to ignore the footsteps that followed mine, I made my way with some haste to the back of the forge. Once in front of the weapon wall, I raised my hand to grab a sword haphazardly, except I didn't even have time to wrap my fingers around its pommel as a tanned hand grabbed mine. Like last time, I found myself trapped between Lance's body and the shelves in front of me.

- You know that it’s not because you are part of the Obsidian that you can take a weapon without authorization ? he said close to my ear.

The sudden hoarse tone of his voice made me shiver. I was aware of his every gesture, of his every breath that lifted his chest against my shoulders. He knew perfectly well where not to touch me on the level of the back so as not to hurt me and that troubled me.

- What's more, this one is way too dangerous for you.

His palm gently pulled mine away from the handle, slowly dropping our arms together along my side. He didn't let go of me though. I took a deep breath in an attempt to ignore his touch.

- Is there anything I can take here ? I tried then, injecting as much confidence and humor as possible into my intonation.

- So, you plan to train on your own and with a real blade ?

His tone, bordering on condescending, irritated me instantly. Damn, I needed to externalize everything that was swarming inside me, what the hell was he not getting in there ?

- I especially need to let off steam for a moment, do I still have the right or you will also prevent me ?

Anger, which began to grip my heart again like a vice, suddenly made a source of heat rise in the palm of my hands. It didn't take long for the dragon to realize this and suddenly squeezed me much tighter, locking my fingers against each other.

- Andraste, calm down. Now is not the time to do that here and you know it just as well as I do.

- If you let me get out of here with what I came to get, I will indeed have plenty of time to go and calm down elsewhere. Except that in the meantime, you're hurting me, Lance.

Visibly surprised by my last words, he eased the pressure on my knuckles, relieving me somewhat even though he still hugged me tightly.

- Make your light disappear and I'll let go, he chided me.

More annoyed than before crossing him, I clenched and clenched my fists to order my powers to dissipate, which didn't work as much as I wanted. Several pairs of eyes began to rest on us without discretion.

- I would like, but I must say that your touch doesn’t help me, I say defensively.

My Chief of Guard slowly unrolled his fingers from my skin, finally letting me move my wrist as I heard it. Closing my eyes for a moment, I instinctively visualized the path of my energy along my flesh, causing it to flow back to my epicenter, level with my stomach. With amazement, I discovered as I opened my eyelids that no trace of magic left my palms.

Lance pulled away from me to give me a questioning look.

- Since when do you know how to do that ? he asked me, an eyebrow raised.

- It was a first, I said with a shrug, as I myself was shocked at the outcome of my attempt. You see, I am good. So I’ve the right to train a little.

- You are incorrigible... but you’ll have to show me that in more detail.

A proud smile dawned on my lips as he blew loudly, letting out air so cold that I saw ice crystals crystallize on a blade close to him.

- Well, I think we both know how it ends when I show you things "in more detail"... is that really a good idea ? I asked him lower, almost timidly.

He looked at me for a long time, much calmer and more serene than a moment earlier. The atmosphere had changed. More intimate, more personal. As if, in this noisy and bustling room, we were suddenly alone.

- If you want us to stop our private interviews, I will comply without objection. This is your choice, not mine. But we know very well that what happened that night has nothing to do with it and that it would have ended up happening at one point or another.

The dragon approached me dangerously, a smirk so similar to that of the Ashkore era that it disturbed me.

- Know that it wasn’t the first time that I wanted to kiss your cute little mouth, he confided to me with a certain childish malice. And then, as you have already said so well, it is you who threw yourself on me. If you don't want this to happen again, just say it and for my part, I'll be able to stay perfectly docile.

I was obsessed with his words, with what they implied. Any relationship between us could only be unhealthy, totally abject. But then, why did I no longer know what I wanted or not ? Logic would have wanted us to stick to what was decently expected of us. Anger, contempt, that should have been our only fuel.

- What if that's not what I want ? I whispered so low that I was afraid he hadn't heard it. What if, for once, I had the right to listen to myself and not give a damn about the convenience of our relationships ?

Lance had never looked at me so deeply, which made me blush with stress at what I argued. Deep down, I knew the young man had fully understood what I was talking about.

- That night, when I dreamed that I was falling from the cliff... it wasn’t the first time that I had this dream. Before I fell, I still see the draflayels flying around me, but not only. I have the impression of constantly remembering that moment in Memoria, that moment when it was just you and me, I concluded hesitantly.

Never did he cut my tirade, realizing every piece of information I offered him.

- So, is that a good idea ? Probably not, no, I answered my own question a moment earlier. But I want to and for once, I want to have the right to listen to myself.

A new smile, this time much sweeter, appeared on his face before he spoke again.

- Your wishes are orders, my angel. On the other hand, only these, so do me the pleasure of getting you away from this wall of swords once and for all. Don't forget who's in charge here, he winked at me.

Lance pushed me towards the exit, I had obviously lost the battle for my weapon for a long time. Stopping in front of the exit door, the dragon seemed to hesitate for a moment, pulling one of its locks of hair back.

- I have obligations tonight, but I'll come see you tomorrow night in your room, if you want.

Without another ounce of ceremony, he turned on his heel and left me on the doorstep.

*

After literally being kicked out of the forge, I wandered aimlessly through the HQ gardens. I realized a little more every day that besides Lance, I didn't really have any relationships that I felt like myself anymore. When he wasn't there, I often walked in circles, desperately trying to find a way to make myself useful despite my poor physical condition.

No longer able to bear to see the same landscape, I decided to leave the enclosure of these walls that I knew only too well.

My steps guided me in the direction of the burrow, a place that had definitely changed in recent years. A tree with a bent shape had grown just above the crevice, which provided a corner of considerable shade in the great plain. I decided to lie there for a moment, enjoying the calm that reigned around me. Surprisingly, my back was not as painful as I would have thought, the cream of Eweleïn probably having something to do with it.

Stretched out at full length, I watched the clouds move with the light wind blowing between the branches above me. Raising a hand above my face, I lazily imagined my energy flowing through my veins to the muscles of my palm, my fingers. Several fine and luminous lines then began to run over my skin, creating a labyrinthine path on every inch that covered me. I felt good. Soothed, even.

Looking up at the blue sky, I thought I felt something brush against my whole when my eyes rested on a cloud of singular shape. My heart warmed when, in that white and vaporous cotton, I recognized the features of a fire dragon. I might not have been as lonely as I thought. A weary smile appeared on my lips, it was as if his aura had wrapped around my heart.

I knew now that he was watching over me.

- You always trusted him... I whispered. Valkyon, are you relieved of what you find in my heart ?

A new breeze lifted my hair, as if to answer my question. Savoring this moment, I closed my eyelids for a few minutes.

A hand was shaking my shoulder more and more vigorously when I finally came to reality. Slowly opening my eyelids, it took me a while to emerge from my heavy sleep. A scarred gaze plunged into mine.

But what was he doing there ?

- Did you sleep well, Steeping Beauty ?

I couldn't help but giggle at my interlocutor's attempt to quote a tale from my world.

- It's Sleeping Beauty, Nevra.

A wonderfully soft smile appeared on his usually closed face.

- You really have some odd-named stories, that's all I can remember, he said with a weak laugh.

I awkwardly straightened up to sit facing him, when a grimace of surprise and pain distorted my features as my back skin suddenly burned. The vampire immediately leaned over me in concern, one hand holding my shoulder to keep me from rocking.

- Andraste, is everything okay ?

Seriously, I've been asked this question too much lately.

(Chapter 14)

[lihikainanea]

tiger getting small while on vacation and she suddenly becomes paranoid that everyone can hear her (throwback to an old blurb of yours when she wasn’t getting that small yet) so she is panicking everytime they’re intimate, which bill is not going to let slide. he just wants her to let it out, but the poor bean is so anxious, she shuts down. it gets to the point where she can’t even enjoy herself in other aspects, like a dark cloud, so bill secretly switches them to a cute little cottage in the middle of nowhere and fucks her real good. she tries to hold back, but he coaxes her, and when she lets it out? bill thinks he’ll just pass out. her moans this time are those soft high pitched one because she’s just so small. she probably starts crying. i’m such a needy bitch lately idk what’s wrong with me.

Bish I am so here for this.

I think tiger is pretty vocal most of the time, just because her Big Dude hits it so good that she can't even hold it back, and most times she's so small for him and so spaced out that she doesn't even register how loud she's being, the moans she can't stop, the guttural sounds as she's blissed out. And like, for his part Bill loves it. It's his favourite sound in the world, when she whines for him, when he knows he's making her feel good. Bill wants all of it, wants her to yell and scream if she has to, cry, hell she can make goat sounds for all he cares--it's all good.

And while I am absolutely here for the times tiger has had to be real quiet when they're at his family's house, just to switch things up a little, what if this is like....a friend's vacation again? And there are so many elements to this.

Their friends don't know about them, so maybe tiger and Bill are still booking separate rooms like idiots. And maybe Bill always kind of speaks to the resort ahead of time, asks for two rooms to be conveniently located waaaaaayyyyy the hell on the other side of the complex so they don't have to worry so much and can sneak around a bit easier. It usually works like a charm--except this time. This time, somehow, all of the friends end up getting rooms that are side by side down a long hallway.

So there's this added factor that Bill can't be seen coming and going from her room, especially in partial states of undress, because that's weird. They can't have sex snuggle on the balcony, which is like their favourite thing to do in the wee hours of the night and into the break of dawn.

So not only is tiger worried about making noise--oh no no friend, we're taking it a step further here--she's worried about getting caught so she is like, flat out dead bolting her door so Bill can't even come in. And he's getting pissed because she keeps wearing those sundresses and she's covered in tanlines and he's going crazy, she's getting pent up because god he's just so bronzed and so golden and his eyes are so clear and green.

He finally manages to talk some sense into her, no doubt vaguely threatening, and he promises her that he'll be careful. He promises her that no one will see him sneak into her room. Maybe he even does it real casual like, steps out into the outdoor hallway at 1AM, leans on the post, has a smoke--and then just conveniently walks into tiger's room two doors down, instead of his own.

And god, it feels good. It's been too long and this whole forbidden element really gets her going but now she has another problem--she's worried someone is going to hear. Their friends are on either side and the walls at this resort are paper thin, and tiger is focusing so hard on staying quiet that nothing else is working for her. She's frustrated, her eyes are clenched so tight she has tears coming from them, and the only thing she can focus on is just...not making a sound. She's can't focus on how good he smells. She can't focus on how soft his lips are, how warm his tongue is, how blond his hair looks in the glow of the moonlight. She can't focus on it, because if she does she'll lose control and she's terrified someone will hear her.

"You can let go sweet girl," he tries to reassure her, tries to get her to release all those moans he loves to hear so much, "It's okay if they hear you. They know you're here. I'll be quiet."

But tiger just shakes her head. And god the poor girl needs a release so bad, but she just can't get there because she's so worried. And Bill has a rule that like, if tiger doesn't get there--then he doesn't, either. Because that's not fair. So he begrudgingly puts an end to their night, still hard as a rock, and just takes her in his arms for cuddles instead. And tiger feels even more terrible because she knows he needs a release, she wants to give him that, but he won't let her.

And I think the final straw for Bill is when he wakes up at 4AM to tiger's feet pushing on his butt, telling him to get out of bed and that he needs to leave and go back to his own room. Bill is pissed, and he gives her the stank eye the whole day.

He is absolutely unwilling to go this entire vacation without some good lovin', and without being able to wake up with tiger snug in his arms, sucking softly on his thumb. It's just not going to happen. Bill doesn't care if he has to pack up his shit and fly to another fucking resort--it's happening.

He bristles at her the whole day, like a petulant child. He tones is down a lot when he can see that she's actually getting small on him, when he can tell that she's spiralling a bit and really thinking that she did something wrong. He puts his hand on her back as they head to the bar for another round of drinks, rubbing softly.

"You're good for me sweet girl," he coos in her ear, "You're so good for me."

"You're mad," she mumbles, "...at me."

"I'm not mad at you kid," he reassures, "I just need you so bad."

She bites her lip, hiding a shaky sigh and he crowds her space a bit more.

"Are you going to let me fix it?" he asks, "Let me take care of it, so I can have you?"

She looks at him with those big eyes, and his heart fucking stops.

"I need to have you," he murmurs to her, "Will you let me fix it?"

She nods, subtly, and he smiles gently at her.

"Good girl," he says, "My good girl."

And he disappears for a little while that afternoon, reappearing only around dinner time. He finds tiger at the beach bar, playing cards with a few from the group.

"There you are," he says, "I've been looking for you, kid."

He plops a kiss on her head, and nobody flinches--that's pretty normal for them.

"What's up, bud?" she asks.

"We have that excursion in 30 minutes. You didn't forget, did you?"

Tiger catches on real quick.

"Oh shit, I totally did," she says as she stands, " Sorry bud. Let me go uh...grab my stuff."

Bill extends his hand to her, helps her climb over a few legs and over the table.

"See you guys in a bit," he waves a hasty goodbye to the group, and starts walking with her back to the lobby.

"Lobby in 15 minutes. An overnight bag, sunscreen, that bikini I love," he tells her lowly as she takes a mental note of what she needs, "Oh, and tiger?"

She looks up at him, a little thrill running down her spine.

"No panties."

She has to stop the little giggle from escaping, has to physically refrain from skipping to her room to grab her things. And for his part, Bill barely just catches his own hand as it was on its way to a firm smack on her ass.

She meets him as instructed, and he's leaning against a powder blue car from the 1950s that is so typical in these small tropical towns.

"M'lady," he opens the car door for her, helping her into it before going to the other side. He looks comically large in the car, more so than usual, and tiger chuckles.

"Can you even drive here?" she asks. He gives her a mischievous smirk.

"Let's find out."

it takes about 20 minutes. Tiger holds his phone up and dictates the directions--but eventually the little car starts chugging up a hill, and tiger is trying to ignore how turned on she's getting watching Bill expertly switch gears, manipulate the stick shift, get the car up that goddamn hill like a boss--and the she sees it. This beautiful villa, sprawling, she can already see the infinity pool and humongous outdoor deck and the floor to ceiling windows, but most of all--she can't see anything, or anybody else. The villa stands alone, at the top of a mountain.

"Bill--" she starts, but it's cut off abruptly when his big hand covers her mouth. He doesn't say anything, just leans over and kisses her deeply. So deeply that they get a bit lost in it because goddamn it feels good to be able to do that again, but he snaps to his senses when tiger starts trying to crawl over the console and straddle his lap.

"Inside," he says breathlessly, "Let's go inside."

It's a hasty entrance. The bags are thrown by the entryway. The champagne that Bill had chilling on ice since the afternoon is ignored. Food will be delivered later, and he purposely chose a time where he knew they'd be able to get a few rounds in before they were disturbed. He shakes out his shoulders, trying to reel in his desire for just a second, and right as he's about to tell tiger to get on her knees he turns and sees that she's already kneeling for him.

"Good girl," he praises, walking over to her. He looms over her, snapping his fingers so she meets his eyes, and he takes her chin in his hand.

"Tiger, I have rules tonight."

"Yes," she murmurs, "Okay."

She mouths at his thumb, tries to close her lips around it, and he gives it to her. Her shoulders relax as she all but deflates.

"No panties for the next 24 hours. If I see them on you, I'm ripping them off," he says, "Understand?"

"Yes," she sighs breathily.

"You get everything you want tonight sweet girl, but if it's too much, then you tell me," he says, "Understand?"

"Yes."

"What are your words?"

"Yellow," she murmurs around his thumb, "Or pineapple."

He nods curtly.

"Last rule, and the most important one," he pulls his thumb from her mouth so that he has her full attention, shushing her harshly when she whines.

"If you're quiet for longer than 3 seconds, if the walls don't fucking shake with your moans for me, I'll fucking stop," he snarls, "Do you understand me?"

[mctherofdragons]

Little Black Book | D. M.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Genre: FLUFF! 

Request: “could you write a draco x slytherin!reader where they both have a crush on eachother, but they think the other person is into someone else? like draco with pansy or reader with some other character” from the lovely @minty-malfoy <3 

Trigger Warnings: Cussing

---------------------------------

Draco Malfoy furrowed his brow at the cauldron in front of him. He added the last ingredient and watched jubilantly as the ivory smoke spiraled upward. You watched as he leaned forward, taking a small whiff of the potion. He gasped quickly, his cheeks beginning turning a ruddish red. You looked over at him and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

He hastily placed the lid onto the Amortentia potion with a loud clang. You sighed, feeling a little twinge in your heart. It no doubt smelled like Pansy Parkinson. “Perfect, pretty, put-together Pansy Parkinson,” you thought to yourself. You knew that the reason Draco was flushed was because the familiar scent of broomsticks, cinnamon gum, and cherry lipgloss had invaded his senses. You secretly desired that he had smelled you instead - lavender shampoo, mint, and a touch of morning coffee.

“Does it smell like Potter?,” you jested. Draco glared at you before cracking a smile.

“Careful, y/l/n.”

You gave him a toothy grin, going back to flipping through your textbook. “What does yours smell like?,” he asked curiously, secretly hoping it smelled like apples, hair product, and vanilla. You leaned over the cauldron, gently taking off the cover. You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes. It felt as though you were bathing in the scent of the boy next to you and you drew back.

“Well?,” Draco asked curiously. You swallowed hard, trying to figure out the best lie to tell in the moment.

“Oh, um, I...it smells like honey...and...grass,” you blurted, turning back around to stare at your book.

Draco felt his heart sink, peaking up at you behind his lashes. You were busy distracting yourself with packing up your bag as he watched you longingly.

“Of course she didn’t smell you, you bloody idiot,” he thought to himself defeatedly, thankful for your professor calling an end to the class.

----------------------------------

That evening, you sat curled up on a green velvet chair in the Sytherin common room. It was always a lucky occasion when the common room was empty. It allowed for time to relax with nothing but the sound of the crackling fire to keep you company. You sipped a cup of peppermint tea and absentmindedly flipped through a copy of Witch Weekly. A yawn washed over you, which allowed you to stretch a bit and settle down more comfortably in your chair. You looked up from the article you were reading about a Beauxbatons’ pastry recipe when you heard the door creak open, disturbing the silence.

Draco and Pansy came stumbling into the common room, chuckling about something Draco must have said in the hallway. Pansy giggled, playfully placing a hand on Draco’s chest. You felt as if you were watching the interaction in slow motion, silently longing to be in Pansy’s place. Her blithesome smile made your eyes fill with jealous tears, although you were too prideful to allow them to spill over.

You quickly gathered up your things, polishing off the rest of your tea. You shuffled past the two, ignoring the way Draco’s head turned on a swivel when you brushed his shoulder. Heading out into the hallway, you rushed as quickly as you could back to your dormitory. “Why am I crying over Draco Malfoy?,” you cursed to yourself, feeling relief once the door slammed behind you. You sniffled a bit before wiping your eyes in annoyance. “He’s just a boy. A stupid boy at that.”

Knowing it would make you feel better, you climbed up onto your bed and pulled out your diary. Your method of getting out your frustration was often through writing letters - of course, letters you’d never dream of sending. You had written angry letters to your professors and even inspirational letters to yourself, all of which you burned immediately in the common room fireplace. You flipped to an empty page and grabbed the quill next to you. The words flowed easily now as you let a few tears drip onto the paper. Your sentences had no real beginning or end, nor did your care about making a whole lot of sense.

‘Dear Draco,

I wish I could tell you what you mean to me....that you’re charming, and handsome, and perfect in every way. I want to tell you that I am captivated by your smile, your eyes, and every last inch of you. My potion smelled like you...Did yours smell like Pansy? I’m sure it did. If I had the chance, I’d kiss you right in front of everyone. I know it’s stupid but I really do fancy you, Malfoy. I just wish you’d fancy me back.’

It was written in the same way your thoughts of Draco often graced across your mind - jumbled and disjointed. You closed the tiny black book and placed it into your backpack, reaching over the shut off your bedside light. You snuggled deeper under your soft, wool blankets, secretly thinking of the Slytherin prince as you drifted off to sleep.

----------------------------------

Draco Malfoy sat at his dormitory desk, sipping slowly on a cup of tea. The sweet drink warmed his insides. He was grateful for this as he was often coldest at night. He pulled the blanket over his shoulders and continued to write, sighing as he felt all of his pent up emotions ease. He wouldn’t admit it aloud to any of his friends, but he kept a diary. It had always served as a way for him to process the difficult parts of his day, protecting him from having to share too much with other people.

Tonight, he wrote unabashedly about how he felt for you. He wrote about your hair, your eyes, and the way his Amortentia carried your scent. He gushed about dreaming of kissing you for hours and hours, leaving very little to the imagination. After seeing you rush out of the common room, he felt an unwavering sense of dread, thinking perhaps you couldn’t even stand to be around him. Thus, he put down in black and white all of the sickeningly sweet ways he thought of you. It occurred to him that maybe if he spilled his heart out on to the parchment, he could stop being so damned enamored with you.

His eyelids started to become heavy, so he slid the small, raven-colored book into his knapsack. Turning off his lamp, he slid beneath his covers, allowing himself to drift into slumber.

-----------------------------------

Final exams were fast approaching and the entirety of Hogwarts was in a tizzy. Between Defense Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies, there was far too much information to digest and far too little time to do it. You and several others from your house shared a long table in the library, your papers and manuals spread out in front of you. Reading furiously, you had lost track of the time, along with Draco, Pansy, and Blaise.

“Oh bloody hell, we’re going to be late for DADA,” Pansy cussed. She stood up to quickly shove her books into her bag. The remaining three of you jumped up, jostling your belongings into your bags as quickly as possible - which is why neither you nor Draco noticed when two tiny black books got swapped.

You all jogged off down the hallway, your robes flowing behind you as you desperately hoped to not be late to class. Unfortunately, you didn’t make it in time, rushing in through the door just as Snape had begun to speak.

“Nice of you to join us, albeit late. 10 points from Slytherin, each.”

You sulked as you slid into your seat, pulling your parchment and quill out to begin taking notes.

----------------------------------------

Later that afternoon, you found yourself sitting on your bed. You had finally finished reviewing for your classes and figured a much needed break was in order. You got up and padded over to your tea kettle, flicking the water on. Just then, you heard a tiny knock at your door.

Unsure who would be coming to visit you, you walked over and stood on the other side. “Who is it?,” you beckoned, not wanting to open the door for just anyone.

“Malfoy,” the voice on the other end replied. Your stomach did an immediate flip. You opened the door, coming face-to-face with a red faced and anxious looking blonde on the other side. He held up something in his hand and you felt like the floor had just given out under your feet.

“Is this yours?,” He asked sheepishly, extending a hand to give it back. You snatched it quickly. The sound of your heart pounding echoed in your ears. A feeling of dread washed over you and you couldn’t stop your hands from beginning to shake.

“Did you r-read it?,” you choked out. You sent a prayer up to Merlin that the answer would be no.

“Yes.”

You let out a tiny gasp and your lips began to tremble.

“Hey, hey,” Draco whispered, allowing himself to walk in the door. He closed it behind him, reaching out to take your hands. “Don’t be upset. Believe me, it’s alright, y\n,”

You pulled away, turning around in embarrassment. “I’m n-not upset! I’m fucking humiliated,” you sniveled. Draco knew about how much you liked - no, at this point he probably assumed loved - him. He had read the inner workings of your heart. Every thing you had penned about the boy was now knowledge he possessed. You wished you could just dissolve into the floor and disappear forever.

Draco sighed, walking over to your backpack. He reached in and pulled out a different journal. You had no idea that his book had been in your bag the entire time, given that you thought it was yours. He sauntered back over to you, pulling you by the hand to sit down on the bed.

You looked at him confused as he opened the journal. He handed it over to you, allowing you to peruse it. You began to read, your jaw falling slack. “Y-you...is this about Pansy?,” you asked sadly, unable to accept that Draco’s feelings might be mutual. Draco’s cyanic eyes twinkled. He took the diary from your hands, placing it out of the way.

He moved a piece of hair from your eyes, tracing his finger along your jaw. Then, he took a finger and traced it down the bridge of your nose and over your lips. He began to speak, repeating a line from one of his diary entries, “Everything about you is flawless.”

He leaned in slowly, planting a kiss to your lips. In that moment, it wouldn’t have shocked you if fireworks began to burst across the ceiling of your room. You scooted closer, gently placing a hand on the back of Draco’s neck. Your fingers played in the tufts of his platinum blonde hair. You pulled him back in for another kiss. Suddenly, you were very, very grateful for finals week - and those 40 missing points from Slytherin mattered not.