#his favourite activity: sitting on ceilings

[leo-kinnie]

thinking abt sandro sitting high on walls to avoid fighting. just a lil guy pouting going LALALALALA CANT HEAR YOU while someone is trying to actively kick his ass

[yogurtkags]

❝ HUSH ❞ — sakusa kiyoomi

cw. f!reader, fluff, olympics au, athletic trainer!reader, timeskip characters, established relationship, secret marriage, language (omi swears like once), not beta read (sorry!) word count. ~ 1.6k

“japan’s outside hitter sakusa kiyoomi and newly revealed wife, athletic trainer y/n l/n, steals the spotlight in the city of love!”

@tetzoro's summer olympics collab

your eyes glance in his direction, letting it linger on his figure as the team settles down into their corner. he’s a little tense, understandably so– it’s his first time at the olympics, and with the pressure of the finals sitting on his shoulders, the nerves are showing, though carefully hidden behind his standard resting face that you can see through so well. the lights hanging along the ceilings of the south paris arena cast a tasteful warm glow along the contours of his face. despite the subconscious clenched jaw and slightly downturned lips that make you want to kiss the frown off so badly, there’s a shine in his eyes like no other.

the last few days have been pretty rough, of stiff beds, subpar food and sleeping without kiyoomi. you know he feels the same if the progressively increasing frequency of late night calls and texts are any indication. with the boys sharing rooms in twos amongst themselves and the rest of the team’s staff being housed in a separate wing of the building, falling asleep in his arms was a faraway thought since you arrived at the olympic village.

loml ♡ : miya snores so fuckin’ loudly i can’t handle this me : well it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve dealt with it baby loml ♡ : i still think we should’ve fought harder for us sharing a room

he drifts off into slumber easily after washing up and getting his fill of talking to you (never enough), the mental and physical fatigue of matches and practices in between taking a toll on his body, but for you, being wrapped in his warm embrace was the perfect recipe and vital to a good night's sleep. it’s safe to say that you haven’t been sleeping well for the past week.

it didn’t help that being sworn to secrecy about your relationship also meant that any interactions you had with him outside being the team’s athletic trainer was like treading on eggshells. it feels like you’re in high school again, sitting next to him in the dining hall during meal times with your clasped hands hidden under the table from watchful eyes, his thumb rubbing soft circles against the back of your hand or squeezing ever so often, as if to affirm his presence and silently reassure that i’m here.

it seems to be a trend lately for athletes to be active on their social media platforms, be it their team’s or just a personal account, recounting stories or even taking avid viewers through “a day in the life of an olympic athlete” — without looking too far, even miya jumped on the bandwagon, often seeing suna running around filming short clips of their shenanigans in free pockets of time during the day. you and kiyoomi talked about it before the season began, keeping any non-professional interactions to a minimum. there’s eyes everywhere and it’s better to be safe than sorry.

both of you are very private people, it was only natural that you preferred to keep your personal life and matters to yourselves behind closed doors. this ended up being a double-edged sword, because everyone wants to be all up in your business, especially kiyoomi who finds himself in the spotlight more often, being apart of the “young handsome eligible bachelors” of the MSBY 4 and now one of the most sought-after new additions to japan’s national team.

you on the other hand, were better known by twitter as “the pretty trainer” from the shweiden adlers and now the national team, standing next to another fan-favourite, iwaizumi hajime. thankfully your role is kept more so behind the scenes, checking on the players during games and making sure they remain in tip-top shape on and off the court.

being the quiet and brooding one amongst outgoing chatterboxes meant that the media would try to dig any information out of kiyoomi, but prying interviewers and prodding questions towards him and his love life were smoothly deflected and brushed aside, the boys even coming to his defense if anyone got too pushy with it, which you were beyond thankful for. not that they needed to most of the time, he’s known to be curt with his responses and quick to bring the topic back to the game, and no one likes a snappy sakusa anyway, many have learned this the hard way.

just months prior to the both of you getting called in to begin training for the olympics and before schedules start to pick up, you had a small private wedding in your hometown with just close friends and family, the ceremony kept under lock and key and tucked away from the public eye. it made it all the more intimate, more like a quiet gathering to celebrate your union than a grand spectacle, which suited you perfectly. the honeymoon hasn’t happened yet with the timing of everything, you’re saving it for post-season when you both can finally take a break and relax for a little while.

you won’t deny that there are some days where you wished that things were different, and that you could openly express your love for each other without scrutiny and attention being on you, but alas, that is to be expected as someone exposed to the public eye.

the olympics is your first public appearance as married individuals, not that anyone particularly cares about your status, their eyes instead zeroing in on kiyoomi and the chain around his neck carrying a shiny new silver band. it's safe to say that judging by the scowl on his face and the chatter buzzing around the front rows of stands as the team settles into their side of the court, his “mystery wife" is the new talk of the town.

when he comes over to you during timeout, his eyes meet yours bashfully as you hand him a bottle, fingers brushing against yours in an unspoken apology. you just smile and lightly pat his back as he turns to join the team huddle. there’s nothing to be sorry for, silly.

these little moments mean everything to you, even though it looks like nothing in the grand scheme of things. just being there with him and coming together with a shared passion even if it's in different fields of the broader spectrum of sport, fills you with a sense of happiness and content. watching him in his element and being able to support him on the sidelines through it all, you'd never trade that for the world.

and as you’re sitting at the edge of your seat with your bum hanging on for dear life, you lean forward with your hands pressed together, the top of your index fingers resting against the tip of your nose like a pseudo prayer. match point.

it feels like you’re watching the longest rally of your life and like a bad habit, your knee begins bouncing up and down in your nervousness and anticipation. iwaizumi too, is so engrossed in the play at hand that he doesn’t notice, or maybe he just doesn’t care enough in this moment to stop you with his usual slap to your thigh and a chiding comment, “stop it, even my grandma back in sendai can feel the tremours from your goddamn knees.”

with bated breath, you watch kageyama tosses one beautiful arc of a set to kiyoomi as he leaps into the air and makes contact with the ball.

with a powerful spike, he is a force to be reckoned with, sending the ball home as the opponents dive to save it, their arms hands and fingers stretching out in a last ditch attempt to connect and rescue the point, but to no avail. the ball lands with a harsh thud and as he stands tall above their groveling, the whistle blows and the crowds roar.

your arms instinctively raise in a cheer, and in the next moment they’re closed over your mouth, tears pricking your eyes as you stumble over your feet and scramble to get up. as the team rushes towards him with shouts of celebration, his eyes immediately dart in your direction, softening as he sees you dashing over. with knowing smirks and crescent moons for eyes, the boys follow his line of sight and give him firm slaps on the back, parting the hoard for you and giving just enough room for him to uncharacteristically swoop you up in his arms and crash his lips into yours, all caution thrown to the wind.

all the noise halts and time stands still, everything fades away and nothing else in the world matters in the moment, not the people, not the cameras, just the overwhelming rush of joy and pride, and love, oh love, swelling from the depths of your chest and your heart bursting at its seams.

your senses flood with everything kiyoomi, from the way the sweaty strands of his hair at the back of his neck feel on your fingertips, his cheeks dampening from your tears, the nudge of his nose against yours, and the press of his smile on your locked lips. he breathes out and you breathe him in, letting all of his being rest in the room in your heart saved specially for him, seeping into every corner of your soul.

when you inevitably pull apart for air, the current predicament doesn't exactly click in your mind just yet until he grabs your hand and pulls you into his side, shielding you from the onslaught of reporters and press looking to get a fresh scoop on the hottest piece of news. with blown out eyes, you look at him in a daze and disbelief, did that really just happen?

the smug smirk on his face says it all.

the matching silver bands on your finger and hanging around his neck, it was always there. for the longest time it was your little secret, and now a declaration of love and devotion — not even a shiny new gold medal could compare.

© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.

[annievrse]

boyfriend!gojo pt. 2

—ᡣ𐭩 headcanons a/n: la la la (gege....... i will curse u buddy)

bf!gojo tells strangers you're related and then kisses you in front of them :/

bf!gojo scares easily (e.g. you literally walk into the kitchen when satoru is sipping on his little green smoothie and man jumps so hard the ceiling ends up green too....)

bf!gojo is the biggest pest in existence (ruffles your hair, will hide one of your shoes when he doesn't want you to leave??, doesn't kiss back sometimes because he thinks it's funny..., follows you around the house when you're pissed, says no as he's passing you something you asked for, pulls your ear because he's weird etc etc)

bf!gojo loves putting his face in your neck, whether it be a hug or just for fun, his nose is digging into your throat like 24/7

bf!gojo has a 0.5x photo of you as his phone background

actually, bf!gojo is one to take 0.5x photos of everyone (especially megumi because it annoys him the most) and finds it the funniest thing ever (it is....)

bf!gojo buys you one plushie one time, and suddenly he has a vendetta against it like he didn't willingly give it to you?? i'm talking putting it in the closet before bed, punching it because it's getting more attention than him?? god forbid if you ever get a pet.... he wouldn't know what to do with himself

when bf!gojo washes his hair, he puts it up in a towel

bf!gojo is forbidden from drinking soda (no i will not elaborate)

bf!gojo pretends to drop you if he's carrying you or giving you a piggyback

beware bf!gojo is a sass machine. do not sass him ever because he will sass you back thrice as hard (lovingly)

bf!gojo has an overwhelming mug collection but a 'minimalistic' apartment (mugs hang and sit everywhere because there isn't enough room in his cupboards)

bf!gojo puts his toothbrush in one of those things that stick on the wall and is shaped like a penguin

bf!gojo will bite

bf!gojo has one silk pyjama set (you got it for him for his birthday as a joke, but he loves them.... they're blue to match his eyes 🙄)

bf!gojo will steal your phone charger and then forget where he put it (but he buys you a new one, and then the process happens again like clockwork)

bf!gojo will go through an entire bag of your favourite candy to pick out the ones you like, just to put them in a separate container for you (it is absolutely adorable AND it keeps him occupied for half an hour <3)

bf!gojo whines when you don't give him attention when he is in dire need of it

bf!gojo laughs at you when you stub your toe only to get upset when you do the same when it happens to him (dramatic ass man)

bf!gojo shoots tapioca pearls at you through the straw (ends in a competition which you usually win (and satoru is a sore loser and refuses to partake in 'such childish activities' until he does it again the next week and he wins and then its fair game))

[hisui-dreamer]

omg omg !! HAPPY 2K RINNA <3 i’m so so proud of u and u deserve everything 💗 the event looks so fun hehe YOU ALRKEUADY JNIW WHI IN GONNANS ASK FOR

i really really love tulips so could i ask for lilia and tulips please? its meaning is perfect and deep love hehe CHEWS YOUR WALLS

good luck with your assignments and take all the time you need !! i love you and miss you mwahh

a crown befitting of you

Pairing: Lilia Vanrouge x gn!reader

Synopsis: his feelings had grown so subtly, so steadily, that he had not realised at all

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, reader eats lilia's food omg

Word count: 783

Notes: mil mil my favourite person ever!!💕💕💕 thank you so much ill work hard on my assignments 🫡 i hope you enjoy lilia hehehe >∪<

Masterlist

flower of choice: tulip

tulips are commonly asosciated with perfect and deep love.

Looking back, Lilia vividly remembers the day you arrived in Twisted Wonderland. Amidst the grand spectacle of the entrance ceremony, particularly with Grim's frantic attempts to avoid being captured, there was something about you that captured his attention. Maybe it was the distinct curiosity shining in your eyes, navigating through an entirely foreign world with a blend of composure and uncertainty. Whatever it was, he found himself wanting to reach out and make you feel welcome.

He started looking out for you without even realizing it. He began with small gestures, like offering help with your studies when he found you hunched over a book in the library or popping down from the ceiling to help you find a classroom. He enjoyed seeing your smile brighten whenever you grasped a new concept or conquered a challenge. It felt good to be there for you, to share his experiences and insights.

As time went on, your interactions blossomed into a regular occurrence. Hours seemed to melt away as you engaged in conversations about anything and everything, exchanging stories of your homeland and experiences while he eagerly recounted his adventures from various countries. Among the students, you were the only one to actively praise his cooking, willingly joining him in the kitchen. These shared moments became cherished moments for Lilia, feeling a connection forming between you that he couldn't quite explain.

But it wasn't until much later that he realized the true depth of his feelings. They had silently amassed over time, creeping up on him when he least expected it. Suddenly, he found myself thinking about you all the time, wondering how you were and yearning to see your smile once more.

Just as his thoughts drifted to you, a familiar laughter dances through the air, drawing his attention. Turning towards its source, he finds himself captivated by the scene unfolding before him. The sun bathes the school courtyard in a radiant golden hue, casting a warm, inviting glow upon everything it touches. There you are, seated on the grass with legs crossed, skillfully weaving delicate tulip flowers into a crown.

Curiosity piqued, he approaches quietly, not wanting to interrupt your moment of concentration. As he draws nearer, you glance up, your eyes shimmering with delight and a mischievous grin playing upon your lips.

"Lilia!" you exclaim, a hint of surprise colouring your tone. "What perfect timing! I've made something for you."

With a graceful flourish, you hold up the tulip flower crown, presenting it as if it were a priceless gem. Each vibrant petal seems to shimmer and sway in the sunlight, casting a spell of enchantment over the surroundings. The delicate blooms, ranging in hues from deep crimson to soft pastel pink, are meticulously arranged in a circular formation, creating a majestic crown fit for royalty.

"You made this for me?" he asks, a wry grin on his face. He can't help but think it suits you far better.

"Of course!" You reply, your grin widening. "Don’t you think it’ll enhance your cuteness?"

A huff of laughter escapes him as you delicately place the crown upon his head, adjusting it until it sits just right. He can't help but feel a rush of affection towards you, grateful for your kindness and the undeniable warmth you bring into his life.

As you step back to admire your handiwork, your gaze meets his, and time seems to stand still. He finds himself entranced by the sparkle in your eyes, the way your smile reaches all the way to your soul.

It is then, with the sun kissing your skin and the scent of tulips filling the air, that he realises just how deeply he cares for you. In your laughter, in your playful gestures, he found a love he hadn't known existed, a love that filled him with a warmth unlike anything he'd ever felt before. And as he looks into your eyes, his own heart overflowing with emotion, he knows that he has fallen completely, utterly in love.

"Rather than me," he begins, lifting the flower crown from his head and gently placing it upon yours. "I believe it enhances your cuteness far more effectively."

He watches with rapt attention as a delicate flush blossoms across your cheeks, like the soft petals of a rose responding to the morning sun. The warmth of embarrassment paints your features with a gentle hue, adding a touch of ethereal beauty to your already captivating presence. In that moment, your eyes widen slightly, reflecting a mixture of surprise and affection, like sparkling jewels illuminated by a ray of sunlight.

Truly, the deepest of loves.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[disneyprincemuke]

love like this * aa23

alex may be the reason your parents are separating, but he proves to you that soulmates still exist

pairings: alex albon x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of divorce

notes: the alex albon tag is waYYYY too dry and i can't keep waiting!!! so i aM TAKING MATTERS INTO MY OWN HANDS!!! also, inspired by that one scene in the office

(f1 masterlist)

alex was having a great day. he'd woken up with the sun shining brightly on the right side of the bed. to make it even better, he's on his way to spend the day with you.

he had everything planned out: he has a list of activities you could do, movies you could watch, and places to walk at in case the day dragged on too long to stay in. he has a bouquet of flowers pressed against his chest and takeout from your favourite restaurant. he's very excited to finally just lay back with you after a stressful couple of weeks.

that was until you opened the door for him. you were glaring at him like you've never before with your phone pressed up against your ear..

he's in shock when you ignore his lean for a welcoming kiss. you don't even acknowledge the flowers in his hands. you just leave the door open and turn around, walking further into your apartment.

alex walks in hesitantly, slipping off his shoes. typically, he'd leave it by the door under the shoe rack. judging by your mood, however, he neatly places it on the rack.

he loses you in the apartment so he just invites himself in to place his presents on the table.

"love?" alex calls out softly, dragging his feet against the cold tiles of your apartment. "i brought us food."

he finds you in your bedroom, just having ended your phone call. "i got your favourites from your favourite downtown. care to have a meal with me, love?"

you whirl around, now tears in your eyes. "what did you say to my dad?"

alex raises an eyebrow, lips parted in shock at your accusation. he's only met your dad once - 3 days ago after flying in. he knows they clicked because he's found himself a new texting buddy. he's even secured your father tickets to the final race this year, supposedly.

"what do you mean?" alex is careful with his tone. the last thing he wants to do is end up in a fight with you.

"that was my dad on the phone," you point to the device that's on the other side of the bed with your other hand on your hip, "he called me to say that he's filing for a divorce."

alex tilts his head. he's very empathetic, truly, but it's difficult to know what to say to you when he doesn't know what's going on. as far as he knew, he didn't have anything to do with this. "i say this in the lease oblivious way possible... but, why is it me?"

you huff, looking away as tears start to fall out of your eyes. you're very close with your parents and alex knows that. "he said he knew after our dinner that night." you wipe the tears away roughly and look back at him. "what did you say?"

"i," alex trails off at a loss for words. he's trying his best to recall the evening word per word, but nothing comes up. nothing that would warrant your father wanting a divorce from you mother. "my love... i don't know. i didn't say anything to him, i swear!"

"there has to be something." you sound defeated as you drop yourself back into your bed, arms spread out as you stare at the ceiling. "they've been together longer than i've been alive. there's no way this came out of nowhere."

but he really doesn't know what it is. "do you want me to talk to him?"

"no!" you shriek, sitting up quickly at his proposition. "you've done enough, alex! don't talk to my dad!"

he stands at your door, shoulders slumped and mouth gaping wordlessly at you. you do feel bad that you're taking it out on him. but your dad didn't elaborate further when he told you. he said he'll do it in person when he arrives at your apartment.

"i'm sorry," alex finally says. "i don't know what i could have said for this to happen... but i'm so sorry."

the doorbell echoes throughout your apartment, followed by a loud knock that's softened by your distance from the door. you sigh, shaking your head slightly as you get to your feet. "that's my dad."

"okay," alex nods, walking towards your bed. "i will stay here until you've talked. okay?"

you nod, muttering back a soft "okay".

you don't say another word as you pass him. but there's a warmth that explodes within your arm when his hand wraps itself around your elbow.

"i love you," alex says, tilting his head as he anticipates your response.

you nod weakly. "i love you."

the next 10 minutes pass by very slowly. from the comfort of your bed, alex heard nothing but silence for the first few minutes. suddenly, the apartment drowned in your sobs while you dad tries to calm you down.

it took everything in him not to come out to get you in his arms. he hates it when you're upset.

he tried not to eavesdrop on your conversation. not that you'd even spoken loud enough for him to make out words from either of you. so he settled for instagram, but even that wasn't entertaining enough to keep him occupied.

so then he moved on to tiktok, but that was too overstimulating for his head. he just wanted it all to be over and have you explain everything to him.

what kept everything moving quickly was when a notification from george came through, prompting a quick game of 8ball on message. it was entertaining: the insults from george as he slowly won.

but his eagerness to shove the win in his friend's face is quickly forgotten when he hears the front door close. the phone is thrown into your duvet and he pads towards the door.

he creaks it open, popping his head through the door. "my love."

"alex," you sigh from your door, hand still clutching onto the handle. you choke back on a sob at his name, falling to your knees.

"hey!" he runs to your aid, arms instinctively wrapping around you. he brushes his fingers through your hair as he sits back and pulls you into his lap.

your face is buried in his shirt as you continue to cry.

"i'm sorry about everything, my love," he hums, cheeks resting on the crown of your head. you clutch onto his shirt with everything you've got, still in disbelief at how everything crumbled down so quick.

your parents had always been your role model. their relationship was the clear benchmark to what you looked for your whole life. never did you think that the love of your life would be the downfall of that.

"it's," you take a deep breath and exhale shakily, "it's okay."

"is it," alex isn't sure he's ready for the answer, "really because of me?"

you nod, the tip of your nails tracing the design on his shirt. "my dad..."

"i'm really sorry. did he tell you what i said that caused all this?" alex has had his fair share of separated parents. he's been through this before, but he was fairly young when it happened.

perhaps it never gets any easier despite age.

you nod again. you lift your head and scramble slowly to untangle yourself from you. "he did tell me what happened," you whisper. you crawl to the empty spot in front of alex, mimicking his position - legs crossed and back pressed against the wall.

you reach forward to take his hands into yours. "when we went to dinner and i left for the bathroom... he told me that you told him how much you loved me... and how you feel when i walk into the room.

"the way that i make everything better, especially on days where everything just doesn't seem right. and how... i make you want to be a better version of yourself," you swallow the lump in your throat, your grip tightening around his hand that you could barely feel yours. "about how sure you are that i'm your soulmate. i guess he had never felt that way about my mum even after all these years."

alex is slightly appalled. all of those were said to your dad in confidence. none of those were supposed to get back to you, because he truly believed that it could lose meaning if you find all of that out.

but you've never been loved like this before. and truly, it felt exhilarating to know that love like this exists. and you've found it in the one person that made your heart flutter when you're together.

"are you okay?"

"i'm okay," you nod. you give his hand a final squeeze before getting to your knees. you throw your arms around him, bumping your head very lightly into the wall behind him. "thank you."

"what for?"

"for loving me the way that you do."

he tightens his arms around your waist, his face buried into your shoulder. "and thank you for showing me what love really is."

[starlingflight]

I have only recently discovered your writing and was wondering if you've done a scene where Harry tells Ginny he smells her in his Amortentia?

I just think you capture their personalities so perfectly that I think you'd do the scene justice.

Anon, you're my new favourite person - so I dropped everything and wrote this for you 😘

AO3 or read below:

The smell hit her like a punch to the gut. 

It had been lying dormant, in wait, hanging unseen in the air of the dungeon corridor, ready for Ginny to wander unwittingly into its trap. 

She wasn't even taking potions this year, but Luna was, and the first day of Ginny's sixth year at Hogwarts had been so lonely and unpleasant that she'd been unable to resist using the end of her free period to wander down here to meet one of the few friendly faces remaining to her in the castle when the school day officially ended. 

It wasn’t the homely, comforting aroma of her mother’s apple pie that had the heart-wrenching effect on her, nor was it the damp, earthy fragrance that brought to mind the orchard after summer rainfall. The scent that had Ginny leaning heavily against the cool stone wall was more subtle, a faint hint in the air of something woodsy, evergreen and clean, and so intrinsically Harry that she suspected it would’ve taken her breath away even if she’d been expecting it. 

The door to the potions classroom burst open, spilling a handful of her classmates into the dimly-lit corridor. Ginny forced herself to stand upright, before anyone could see a hint of her distress. 

Despite their shaking, her legs carried her forward. Some invisible force summoned her; she pushed against the crowd exiting Slughorn's classroom, slipping through the doorway; ignoring Luna's puzzled gaze as she followed the scent to a golden cauldron sitting atop the nearest desk. 

The surface of the potion within had an opalescent sheen, and the vapour rising from it was ascending towards the stone ceiling in distinctive spirals that would’ve allowed her to identify it even if the overpowering scent hadn’t already given away its identity.

“Amortentia,” Ginny read aloud, peering over the top of Ron’s borrowed copy of Advanced Potion Making from where she was sitting on the ground opposite Harry. “Sounds a lot more interesting than levitation charms.” 

Harry looked up. Distracted from his attempts at revision, his head fell back slightly against the beech tree he was leaning against. “Slughorn brewed it for our first lesson this year. I could smell it before I even walked into the classroom.” 

Ginny tossed the charms textbook she’d been pretending to read aside, giving him her full attention, which, really, he’d had from the moment he’d convinced her to leave the library in favour of the castle's sunlit grounds. “And what does Harry Potter smell when confronted with the world’s strongest love potion?” 

Harry’s cheeks flushed and Ginny’s grin widened. Making him blush was a new, and favourite, activity of hers. “I’ll tell you next year,” he said evasively. “When you can tell me what you smell too.” 

Fleetingly, she considered accepting his non-answer. It was, after all, a deeply personal question. But this was one of the few boundary-pushing questions that Ginny could ask, unlike the others that she unswervingly steered away from – what are you whispering with Ron and Hermione about? What are you doing when you’re summoned to Dumbledore’s office? Why do I feel like talking about anything further ahead than next Tuesday is tempting a fate that I’m not ready to face? – Amortentia, by contrast, seemed utterly tame. 

She rolled onto her stomach, her elbows sinking into the grass, supporting her upper body and holding it upright. Her smile, she knew, was full of challenge. “I bet I can guess.” 

Harry’s eyes wandered the length of her body, before returning to her face. He mirrored her smirk. “And if you can’t?” 

Laughter rose, light and breathy in her throat, but Ginny swallowed it down, schooling her face into a look of total seriousness. “A forfeit of your choosing… and if I win, a reward of mine.” 

Despite what half the school would probably say, Harry was absolutely terrible at hiding his smile. He shook his head. “Considering my choice of forfeit, and your choice of reward are definitely the same thing, there doesn’t seem to be much risk for you here?” 

“Or you,” Ginny countered, conveniently ignoring the risk of him having to reveal a deeply personal fact. 

The spark in Harry’s eyes told her he hadn’t forgotten the risk, though he didn’t say as much. “We should probably just skip to kissing then.”  

There was nothing she could do to contain her laughter in the face of such a brazen statement; it rang out clear and bright across the grounds. A few weeks ago, when she’d been starting to wonder if he was going to tiptoe around this growing attraction between them forever, the idea of him saying such a thing outright to her would’ve been unimaginable.

She tilted her head to the side, pretending to consider the suggestion. It did sound tempting, but Ginny knew that neither of them would really agree to it. Lines had been drawn. A challenge laid out. Satisfaction must be granted. 

She started with the obvious. “Treacle tart.” 

Harry’s smile fell, clearly concerned by the speed with which Ginny had delivered a correct guess. He recovered quickly, one corner of his mouth twitching. “Been watching my dessert habits closely, have you?” 

Ginny ignored this, finding nothing worthy of denial in the question. “Now it’s a matter of narrowing down what you like more… flying seems an obvious choice, but there’s your fondness for Hedwig to consider–” 

“Hedwig?” Harry burst out. He leaned forward, leaving the tree trunk behind as he looked at her disbelievingly. “I did not smell my owl in a love potion!” 

“Well, it sounds weird when you put it like that,” Ginny said, fighting the urge to laugh once more at the outraged expression on Harry’s face. “Stop looking at me like that!  She's an important presence in your life – I think she’s amortentia-worthy!” 

Harry’s expression remained unchanged. “...She’s an owl.” 

“Fine,” Ginny sighed, shaking her head. “But I think Hedwig would be deeply offended by your reaction.” 

Harry released a snort of laughter, returning his back to the tree. “Well, it’s a good job she’s not as nosy as you, so she’ll never have to know.” 

“Flying then,” Ginny pondered loudly, her fingers twisting in the grass as she let Harry’s comment pass without argument. When it came to her interest in him, ‘nosy’ didn’t quite cover it. 

She fell silent for a moment, considering the many possible scents associated with flying. Her mind immediately went to the rich, leathery fragrance of a quaffle, but she dismissed this at once. She was a chaser, not Harry. Snitches, delicate and metallic, didn’t really smell of anything in her opinion. Being in the air had a unique smell, fresh and clear, but that wasn’t right either. 

Flying, she knew, started before you got in the air. Flying was the sense of anticipation, flying was the rush of pushing off from the ground, flying was endless possibilities. 

“Your broom,” Ginny said definitively after another moment of deliberation. Broomsticks were freedom. 

Harry nodded, confirming her guess correct. Their eyes met, and she knew, without either of them speaking, that her reasoning was sound too.

“Two out of three…” Ginny mused, waiting for Harry to correct her if her calculations were wrong. He didn’t. 

This time the silence that fell between them was charged with suspense, though Ginny suspected this might just be in her head. A flutter of butterflies had broken loose in her stomach. 

She didn't need to be in the presence of a cauldron of amortentia to know that she would smell him. The way he looked at her, it didn't feel completely out of the realm of possibility that Harry would smell Ginny too, but they'd only been together for a matter of weeks, and she'd wanted him for years, and if she guessed herself, and he told her she was wrong, she wasn't sure she'd be able to take the blow. 

“Not Hedwig…” she smirked with an air of confidence she definitely didn't feel, buying time, and coaxing a smile onto Harry's face that went some way to soothing Ginny's nerves. 

“Definitely not,” Harry agreed. 

“More food?” Ginny hedged, watching his face carefully for a reaction. “Or something like that? You do have a liking for butterbeer.”

Harry shook his head. His lips pressed together but Ginny could still see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You're doing this on purpose.” 

Her heart was beating frantically in her chest. “Doing what?” 

Harry cocked an eyebrow at her. “If you make me admit it, you don't win.”  

Her butterflies were flying wildly now, swooping and diving within her. For once, Ginny found she didn't care very much about winning at all. “I want you to say it.” 

“Fine,” Harry sighed. His hand found hers on the ground, fingers entwining together in the long blades of grass. Much to Ginny's delight, his blush made a return. “You… your hair, if you want me to be specific.” 

“My hair?” She asked, somewhat breathlessly. Her free hand reached out and pulled a strand of her hair to her nose. “It just smells like hair.” 

Harry's cheeks turned from a faint rosy pink, to flushed crimson. “It smells like flowers.”

“Flowers,” Ginny whispered, elevating the word to the height of the world's greatest compliment in her mind. She was certain her smile looked completely ridiculous, but she was incapable of caring. She pulled herself upright, careful that their hands remained clasped together. She shuffled forwards on the grass until her face was inches from Harry's. “Really? My hair?” 

“Yes,” Harry laughed; there was a hint of nervousness beneath the usually carefree sound. “Can you stop looking so pleased with yourself?” 

Ginny's smile remained in place as she shook her head. “No, I don't think I can.” 

“This can't be news to you,” he protested, apparently gathering some confidence from how clearly delighted Ginny was about this revelation. “Have I not made my feelings clear?” 

She supposed he had, in a very Harry-ish way. Kissing her in the centre of the full common room had been a fairly loud declaration, even if no words had been exchanged at that particular moment, and he'd been very attentive from that moment onwards, but this was different. Amortentia was magic; pure, and ancient, and undeniable. 

“I’m ready for my forfeit now,” Ginny announced, not waiting for any further instructions before leaning forwards, her lips finding his, eager to make her own feelings clear in what time they had left before lunch ended–

“Miss Weasley!” Professor Slughorn's voice pulled Ginny abruptly back to the present. 

She was standing beside the golden cauldron; her knuckles had turned a ghostly white from the strength with which she gripped the edge of the desk. She was breathing deeply, taking in great lungfuls of the heady scent emanating from the potion. 

Slughorn was frowning at her, his face a mask of concern and pity. Ginny wasn't sure which sentiment she hated more. 

“Sorry,” she said, using all her force of will to take a definitive step away from the desk. “I was just looking for Luna.” 

“I'm here,” Luna said from the doorway. Her eyes were wide, piercing. “Did you want to go to dinner?” 

Ginny nodded, now that she'd come to her senses she was desperate to remove herself from the dungeons and the heavy miasma that surrounded her. 

Slughorn cleared his throat uncomfortably before she'd taken even a step towards Luna. “Are you sure you're alright, Miss Weasley? I wouldn't want you to go up to dinner if you're not feeling yourself… there's a lot of observant eyes in the great hall these days.” 

“I'm fine,” she lied, ignoring her thundering heart, and schooling her face into a mask of perfect neutrality she was already fed up with wearing after only one day of term. 

“Very well,” Slughorn nodded, though he still looked reluctant to let her go. His eyes travelled between Ginny and Luna. “The weather's still quite fine for this time of year,” he said, his tone observational. “I always find a walk around the grounds to be a pleasant prelude to one's dinner… There's nothing quite like fresh air to clear the mind.” 

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Ceilings - Carlos Sainz

<word count - 1331>

Peace. That was the word that came closest to whatever it was you were feeling now. This calm sense of tranquillity that could lull you into a perfect state of serenity, even if the world outside was complete calamity. 

And that was all thanks to one man. If you could, you'd have his face plastered on your ceiling, just so you could have him watch over you while you slept. No matter the day, the month, the time, he was there. 

Always with a shoulder to cry on, arms to be held in and ears to listen and a brain to somehow tell him exactly what you needed. And now, you and Carlos were doing what you always had done, but this felt different somehow.

You had pulled into your favourite 'lovers lane', even if the pair of you never used it for such activities. The idea had crossed your mind, and it had crossed his unbeknownst to you. Nonetheless, you were sat there, the rain on his car roof being the only thing you could hear apart from the soft tones of each other's voices as you talked. 

The lights were off in all the houses that you looked down upon from your spot on the hill, and nothing apart from the street lights illuminated the place. From the distance, you could see the tiny, ant-like cars crawling around the roads, but they were few and far between. 

The two of you were talking, and he could even be telling you how in love he is with a new girl he met, or how he missed one of his old flames, and you'd simply be grateful to get to sit there and listen to his voice. It was lovely to be sitting there with him. 

You didn't spend all that much time with him anymore, since he was away a lot and he was often busy when he was home, so you took in every last millisecond and carved it into your brain like a tattoo on the forefront. Your most prominent memories. 

All of them included Carlos in one way or another. 

A comfortable silence settled over you both. This happened often, just so you could both take in the information and process whatever it was you had just learned. And for the first time, you weren't consolidating the knowledge you had just been fed.

You hated how you felt most of the time, so you ignored it. It could ruin everything you had, and could taint your precious evocations with the bitter venom of rejection. You were on the stairs to heaven, but you were impossibly balancing on the edge of the stairs and the gate. 

Taking a leap could take you into the fluffy clouds of bliss, but a slip up could send you hurtling down the steps to hell and into its fiery jaws that would consume you, swallow you whole, ravish you. 

You were teetering on the dangerous parameters between comfort and chaos. 

Just looking at him sent your mind into a spiral. At first, you thought he was kind of cute, and you wanted to say all of it, but you didn't want to ruin the moment. These were the moments you lived for with Carlos. 

You didn't want to spoil what you had by spilling your feelings out into a puddle on the floor that he'd be too afraid to step into and get his feet wet. It would never evaporate away, and it'd remain a stain on your relationship.

Carlos offered to drive you home, since it was still pouring it down outside and he certainly didn't want you walking home in the middle of the night, by yourself. The car's engine was re-ignited as it lowly rumbled along the road, and the pair of you remained in comfortable silence.

Every pothole you bumped over was one closer to the exact place you didn't want to be. Home. Well, it wasn't really home, because Carlos wasn't there. For you, home was all over the world. 

It could have been the mesmerizing skylines of Singapore, the beauty of Barcelona, the glittering Monaco nightlife. Hell, it could have even been the deepest depths of the depraved purgatory and it would have been home if he was there., despite the fact that that was what life felt like when he wasn't there. 

You wished you could stay in the layby for a little longer, maybe even just a few more seconds. But after those seconds, you'd want more, and they'd turn to minutes, to hours, to days, to years, to decades, to lifetimes. No amount of time would be enough with him.

But, it was over, and he was driving you home. The drive home was so short, so painfully short. He pulled up outside of your house nearly as quickly as you had fallen for him, and you sat there for a moment. He shifted in his seat slightly. 

And it just... kind of came out, as you got up to go. You leant in and kissed him in his car, and it felt like the start of a movie you'd seen before. But you felt like you knew how this movie ended, and the foreshadowing was far too ominous and obvious for your liking.

He pulled away, not able to make eye contact with you. If he spoke, you figured he'd tell you to get out of the car and never talk to him again. He stayed silent. You clambered out of the car, tears stinging at your eyeballs.

You watched as he drove off, heavy raindrops ricocheting off the roof of his car. Momentarily, you became numb to the cold of the rain, and the breeze biting at your skin. His headlights faded out into the lashing rain, and he was gone.

What he was thinking right then and there? You wished you knew. Did you really just do that? Or was he signalling for it? It looked like he was, he moved in closer, or did he? Was he just moving? Did he even move or did your brain make that all up?

The cold was seeping its way through your heart, or it was the onset of pensive heartbreak. You couldn't quite tell. Soaked to the bone, you couldn't even remember forcing your legs to carry you inside, your hands shaking as you tried to fit the key into the lock. 

Rainwater dripped across the floor tiles as you walked, kicking your shoes that were now full of water off of your feet. You flopped down onto the couch, still not fully processing what had happened. What you had done. Or what he had done. You weren't sure. 

He was your best friend for crying out loud, and you thought you should've just been happy with that. The alternative outcome of that wasn't going to happen, it wasn't a feasible possibility. It's not real, and he doesn't exist.

The Carlos that was supposed to lean in and kiss you wasn't real, and the Carlos that loves you doesn't exist. And that's when it hit you. 

As you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing with everything that had happened. Not just what had happened ten or however many minutes ago, but the years you thought you had wasted. The years that felt lost. The memories that now felt tainted. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. You condemned yourself for analysing the heaviness of the hand, the time between knocks, the exact timbre of the knuckles on wood. There was no doubt it was Carlos. No doubt at all. 

Springing from you seat, nearly slipping on the water that was pooled on the floor, you yanked the door open like it was the last thing in your way between you and paradise. Precipitation dripping down his face as he squinted through the rain, there was Carlos. "Hi," was all he said, fiddling with his fingers. 

And it felt like the end of a movie you'd seen before. 

|masterlist|five seconds flat|

A/N - I am on the grind my loves, I am on it! Hope you're all having a wonderful day 💖

[slashers-and-rats]

slashers reacting to being their bpd gn s/o's fave person?

rat chat: i really like this prompt, because i have a lot of stuff goin’ on up in my noodle, and i also experience the fave person phenomena to a high extent. so i relate to you, and i like that.

Slashers reacting to being the gn!reader’s favourite person | sfw |

featured slashers: billy lenz, thomas hewitt, vincent sinclair

billy lenz :

billy wasn’t a stranger to obsessive tendencies. this man, at some point in his time of knowing you, watched you through holes in the ceiling and actively snuck out at night to stare at you sleeping. he knew what it was like to have someone you cherished more than anything in the world. it was a bit different, obviously, but he still related to what you were feeling.

there was a day when you had to sit down and explain it to him. it took him a bit to really chew on the words you were feeding him. he was your favourite? you wanted to always be around him? the things he did had that much impact on you? deep down, in the sicker parts of his psyche, he was elated. he wanted you to be reliant and obsessed with him, he wanted you to feel just like how he did. but, at the same time, your tone didn’t seem so chipper. he could tell it was something to tread carefully on, especially knowing that the things he did could effect you so deeply.

he was always at your disposal, so withdrawals weren’t much of a problem. the anxiety of him being away was always satiated within seconds, as he liked to stay close to you too. billy was always just a call away if you needed to be grounded and reassured he was there.

you would ask for praise from time to time, wanting to hear him say you were good and that he actually cared about you. this was a foreign concept to billy. how did you not know? he knew he didn’t say many coherent things, but even his disjointed ramblings were often worships to you. he always did what you asked tho. he’d praise you, and pepper your face in sloppy, wet kisses, and purr about how he’ll never leave you. in between his garbled noises, he’d mumble out compliments, and make sure you felt as happy as he did.

he was truly delighted to be so attached to you. the concept of bpd and having a “favourite person” might’ve been new and different, but at the end of the day, it only made him feel more comfortable with his own feelings. sometimes he felt like he was pathetic for being so clingy to you, and knowing that you, in some way or another, felt the same made him comforted.

there were some downsides. sometimes billy didn’t like being out and around people, and would coop himself up in the attic. he saw on those days how blue you’d get yourself, even without him doing anything. during those times, he’d draw you small pictures and write cat scratch notes, and slip them underneath doors as he glided through the house in complete silence. it was just reminders that he did love you, even when he needed his own space.

he just really cares about you. and is happy to know that he is so cared for as well.

thomas hewitt :

thomas has no real knowledge of mental illnesses. that’s not to say he hasn’t experienced it, he has his own issues, and his whole family is riddled with different disorders, but it’s never really been openly talked about.

that being said, when you went to him and explained it all, he picked up on the concept fairly quickly. sure, he didn’t understand all the bits and pieces being told to him, but he was really trying. he understood that you always wanted to be near him, and he could relate to that. it was something he had to get over himself, as he’d never really had a relationship like this before, and it made him over eager. he knew that his own mood could affect yours, whether he meant for it to or not. that was something he found easily maneuverable. he wasn’t the most enthusiastic guy, and you hadn’t minded before. he knew you needed lots of reassurance and praise, that you got anxious about him leaving easily. he was amazed you thought he’d be the one leaving you.

he fell into a routine quite quickly. he’d spend a little while longer in the morning cuddling you and squeezing you, his own way of saying he wanted to be with you. he kissed you lots whenever you two were alone, and always kept himself touching you somewhere. he liked making sure you knew he was there. he liked being present when he could.

tommy did have to leave during the days to go help his family with their exploits, and he always fretted over you before he left. he always lingered in his room, kissing over your face and reassuring you that he’d be back, that he’d miss you, that he couldn’t wait to be back. the second he’d get home, he’d pass right by his family (stopping at luda mae only because that was his mama) and go straight up to his room to see you again.

tommy liked bringing you trinkets and things. he liked giving you things that would remind you he’d be there. he didn’t want you to think he’d go anywhere. you were so special to him, and the idea of you being so reliant on him emotionally was new. but he liked it, somewhere inside of him. he liked knowing you were so vulnerable and open with him, and that you really were attached to him, and that he could provide you support he didn’t previously know you needed.

there were setbacks. tommy didn’t talk much, and so it was very hard for him to provide verbal reassurance. he remedied this by showing you lots of physical affection when you were both alone and away from the family. sometimes, when he was feeling particularly brave, he would utter a small “i love you”, and that always seemed to be enough to prove how much he cared about you. he didn’t talk to anyone, but you were different.

he just wanted to make you happy.

vincent sinclair :

vincent had a soft centre. on the outside, he was this large, brooding, empty eyed man, but on the inside he was filled with lavender and vanilla. he was always very understanding of your own habits and coping mechanisms, whether they made sense to him or not. as long as you sat him down and explained it to him, he made sure to be good and provide support where he could.

the idea of a favourite person resonated deep with vincent. wasn’t that how he felt about you…? whenever you were away from him, even in the other room he felt sick. he’d push his cheeks into your palms, and make you kiss him and promise him you’d never leave. it was something you both seemed to be working on. there was a mutual obsession, or a reliance on each other emotionally that you both had to navigate.

him relating made it easier for both of you, as it brought forth a conversation of what to do. the solution was simple. just do what you’ve been doing. you two spent as much time together as possible, vincent not liking when you strayed too far, scared his brother might devour you.

he didn’t talk much, but he when you were both alone and curled up, he’d speak in soft, raspy tones, whispering about how much he loved and cared about you. every time you left his workshop to go and prepare food or clean up a waxy mess spilled onto your front, you’d come back and be met with vincent fretting over you and making sure you were ok.

he didn’t show his emotions much, so it wasn’t hard for him to keep his worser feelings inside for your own good. he knew that sometimes when he let it slip that he was upset, he’d see you change, and slip into the same dreary feelings. he’d be quick to reassure you he was ok, and you’d do the same. alone, you two were almost sickeningly sweet with each other. out in the real world, outside of his studio, you two tried to stay neutral and appropriate. bo already teased vincent enough, you didn’t want to add more.

it was actually vincent that tended to have issues. he didn’t like the feeling of anxiety he got when he saw you sad. sometimes you’d be missing home, or upset that your art wasn’t going well, and he’d feel it shoot through his heart. he wanted to just take it all away and make it feel better. you always had to reassure him in those moments that there was nothing he could do, that sometimes you were just going to feel blue, and you’d let him rest his head in your lap while he calmed himself.

when you did have problems, it always came from his intense focus on his work. sometimes, without realizing it, he would ignore you for hours, and by the time he was pulled from his creative marathon, he’d see you dejected and alone in the corner. he’d always make sure to make it up to you, and have you sit on his lap while he praised you for being so good and patient. or, he’d simply have you come sit beside him while he worked, and he’d listen closely to you talk. he never really got tired of you filling the silence. either way, he’d always do something to make sure you knew you were his top priority. because you were.

over all, you two are a fairly good match.

[ltwilliammowett]

Wreck of the carrack Mary Rose, built by unknown in 1511 and lost in 1545

Mary Rose was carvel-built with twenty heavy and sixty light guns comprising a mixture of muzzle-loading cast bronze and breech-loading cast iron guns. With a complement of some 500 men, she was built for Henry VIII and named for his sister, Mary. The first of her name in the British fleet, she took part in Henry’s first (1512-1514) and second French Wars (1522-1525), always as the flagship of the Lord High Admiral - his favourite warship. Her tonnage changed from some 600 tons in 1512 to 700 tons at the time of her sinking. The portion of the ship that was recovered is estimated to be equal to some 280 tons. The ship appears to have had a hold and four principal decks, the orlop, the main, the upper and the forecastle, although the latter might have had more than one deck.

The keel is constructed from three pieces of elm, scarfed together and bolted to the oak keelson, also in three sections and which sits on top of the floor timbers, with the main mast step acting as the central sector. Just aft of the mast step, by the keelson, there is a circular hole to make room for the lower end of the pump. The majority of the frames do not appear to be attached to the floor timbers or to each other but are held in place by the longitudinal stringers, and the outer planking of the hull, in oak, is fastened through the frames, stringers and ceiling planking by hand-cut wooden treenails, which have been hammered into pre-drilled holes and might be up to a metre in length. The ship underwent two major refits, the first in Portsmouth in 1527-28 which required the construction of a new dock, and a later one in about 1536, when it is assumed her burden was increased to 700 tons.

The ship was to some extent re-built at this time, to give her a complete lower deck of guns with hinged ports, almost the first British warship to be so equipped. A considerable degree of extra strengthening was added to the vessel and the evidence from dendrochronology strongly suggests that several riders, transom knees, and diagonal and vertical braces were inserted during these two refits, presumably to support new and heavier guns.

In 1544-45, Mary Rose was active in Henry’s third French war. When leading the advance against a much larger French invasion fleet off Portsmouth on 19 July 1545, possibly arising from a simple ship-handling miscalculation, she appears to have been caught by a flaw of wind. Late in the day she tried to tack and was swamped through her lower deck gun ports, sinking in some forty feet of water in a very short space of time with the loss of virtually her whole ship’s company of nearly 500 men.

[plumadot]

Hi hello Pluma 👋🏿

Hope you're doing well!

Got a little bit of a brainstorm for your dnd guys

Big squad is just traveling, or do they have some kind of goal? And – why are they all together?

Is there some particular world building you wanted to introduce, or mb it's just normal Faerun? I really like weird twists, like, then everything is flooded, orrrr maybe then there's no sun in this world! Or they have several moons... Just an idea to think about! :D

I also was thinking of spiderchair a lot-

Just imagine Scar running on the walls and ceilings cuz. Spider chair!!!

And I think Scar is often bored, then they are traveling on foot (he's too active fella to just sit and watch) – mb he has some kind of a hobby to keep his hands busy? Flute is cool and all, but the guy is VERY chatty, (what's why tbh I'm kinda sad he plays flute, no beautiful singing D:) and yea. I was thinking it might be wood carving, bit it's kinda doesn't fit him... Oh, I know! Mb magic tricks ?? I dunno, what do you think? :D

Oh and probably G is often complaining how tired he is from walking on foot... Is there on a chair somewhere a perch for him, or he's just unceremoniously sits on Scar's lap? :DD (Well they still can have horses but. Every horse would despise Grian u'all know that)

Yep... they are definitely The Wanted Criminals... Silly fellas QwQ

hi!!!!! :D <3 <3 <3

they do!! they eh. it's. again it's bits and pieces for now i hope you don't mind gkjdfkgjf. they kinda all have their own goals but they overlap more or less... they're all looking for a certain artefact, even ren's squad is :D i'll try to explain or draw stuff about it once i have all backstories linked up with it and can actually find the words to make it sound plausible LMAO

i'm not sure if i want the world to be very different from "standard" faerûn gfdkgjkfd i like the idea of multiple moons simply for the aesthetic :D and mmmm what's important is that gods are pretty close to mortals and even interfere every now and then. and i suppose the place they're in is coastal, since there's a lot of characters have some kind of connection to the ocean :D

scar is strapped into his spider chair so it should definitely be able to walk on walls!!!! idc if that's overpowered the chair is a magic item ok he gets to have a cool chair!!!!!!!

also yes yes he definitely plays music and doodles a lot!!! :D ohhhh you're right about the singing gfdkjgkjdf maybe i'll also give him a string instrument as a treat :D I'M NOT PICKING FAVOURITES I JUST. YOU KNOW

grian can definitely perch on the chair. and he will. he likes feeling tall :) he uses his flight to scout ahead but it's so very tiring... let him on the chair scar pls...

HFDJKGJDFG i'm so sorry if the things i say about this au make no sense or don't connect or kgfjdkjg i'm not good at this. but i really liked your questions and ideas!!!!!!!!!! ;-;

[maybankswife]

Falling for him part 4

JJ Maybank x fem Kook Reader

Summary-

You and Sarah have been best friends since you could walk, and now it has all started to change. and fast.

*This uses scenes from Obx Season 1, but modified to fit Y/N into the storyline.*

Warnings:

Mentions of a fight, bruises, tension, swearing.

A/N:

this is a longer part, around 4.9k words 😬 hope you enjoy!

6:45 AM

You’re woken up to the sound of your mum opening the shutters in your room, your mum is a big fan of routine and even when its summer break she doesn’t let you sleep in on weekdays, only weekends. You cover your eyes with your arm, trying to shield your eyes from the light. You can hear your mum walking over to your bed, she leans down and kisses your cheek, pushing your hair away from your face.

“Come on Y/N/N, time to get up” she speaks gently, rubbing your arm. You put your arm down and force your eyes open. Your eyes meet with hers, shes already in her active wear from Lorna Jane. You stretch under the covers. Removing the duvet off your body, you sit up your feet touching the rug that’s next to your bed.

“What are we doing today?” you ask her, standing up stretching. She smiles at you,

“I’m not sure, whatever you would like. I need to work on a case today, so you can do whatever you want” your slightly annoyed that she isn’t waking you up for a real reason, but you know this has benefits to you.

“I might go surfing” you say as your start making your bed, your mum is calling Oakley over to her.

“Sounds fun sweetie” You continue fixing the pillows on your bed, you can hear Oakley’s nails tap the wood floor as she walks over to your mum. “Okay I’m going to take Oakley on a walk down at the beach, I’ll see you soon” your mum breaks the silence, she leaves your room, closing the door behind her. You sit down on your bed, grabbing your phone from the side table. You look through your notifications on your lock screen, nothing important. You stand up, walking out of your room and into the hallway. You make your way to the kitchen, the huge floor to ceiling sliding glass doors that lead out to your backyard and the beach, are open as well as most of the windows in your house. You pull open a cabinet and pull out the blender. You place it on the counter, plugging it into a nearby outlet.  You walk over to the fridge, pulling the door open.

You grab out the ingredients to make your favourite smoothie.

Frozen Mango

Frozen Pineapple

Coconut water

Fresh passion fruit

Fresh kiwi

Orange juice

Since you’ve made this smoothie hundreds of times, you can guesstimate how much of each thing you need in it. You put all the ingredients into the blender, turning it on. Whilst it’s blending you get a glass cup from the cabinet, and a glass straw. When its finished blending, you take the lid off the blender cup, pouring it into your glass and putting the straw in. you make your way over to the kitchen island, sitting down on a barstool. You open your phone, looking through who messaged you last night, and what’s been going on in the world whilst you were sleeping. You sip the smoothie, delicious as always. You see that all of the pogues have accepted your follow and have all followed your back. You accept all of their request and start looking through their accounts. You start with Kies, all of her posts are single photos of the beach, sunsets, turtles, and the silhouettes of the pogues. Shes taken down all the photos of you in them. her highlights are pretty much the same as her posts, a couple of photos of her and her parents and that’s it. You move onto JB’s account, his posts are similar to JJ’s, a lot of the same photos too. He doesn’t have any highlights, but you see a post of him and Sarah holding hands. Secret but not secret relationship. Pope’s account has nothing. Literally nothing but a Bio saying “P4L”. You move onto snapchat, responding to some people’s snaps. You really don’t feel like hanging out with the pogues today, as much as you would like to, you just need a day to yourself after yesterday. You message Sarah.

“Hey Sarah, I can’t hangout today mums making me hangout with her” sent.

“Awh okay, that’s okay see you soon” She replies, you sigh grateful for the lack of interrogation. You put your phone back down onto the table, finishing your smoothie.

You stand up, and walk over to the sink, rinsing out your glass and putting it into the dishwasher. You walk down the hall, back into your room. You walk over to your dresser to find a bikini. You decide to go with a hot pink set, that has small white hibiscus flowers on it. You pull off your pyjamas, then pull on the bikini top. This set is made for surfing, so its securer than your regular string ones. You pull up the bottoms, they sit in the perfect spot for a good tan line. You grab some loose white linen shorts to wear over the bottoms, and your Birkenstocks. You grab one of your many tote bags from a hook and start putting in a few essentials. Sun-Bum SPF15 tanning oil, towel, book, a cap, your hairbrush, and lastly your phone. You tie your hair up into a bun before leaving your room.

You walk out to your backyard where your surf shed is, you grab your surfboard out from the corner and carry it down to the beach. It was waxed a few days ago, so no need to rewax it just yet. You make your way down to the sand, the sun beaming down onto you is your favourite feelings. You find a good spot to put your stuff, dropping the surfboard onto the sand as well as the tote bag. You shimmy out of the shorts, putting them into your tote bag. You pull out the tanning oil, putting a generous amount into the palm of your hand, rubbing it between your hands. You rub it into your skin.

One of your skills that you have, is being able to put things like tanning oil and sunscreen on your back, its easy for you to do it. You make sure you get the tanning oil everywhere, including your face. You sit down on your board, letting the oil sink into your skin before you go into the water.

You sit there listening to the waves crash against the shoreline, and the seagulls calling out. Breathing in the familiar smell of salt and sun. The sand warm on your feet, letting your mind wonder.

You can tell the oil has melted into your skin, so you stand up ready to surf. You pick up your board putting it on your side and running towards the water. Once your deep enough, just below knee deep in water, you put the board onto the water, jumping on top of it. You start paddling out, waiting for a wave to come.

Riding the wave, your mind goes silent, absorbing the summer sun. This is all that you want to do this summer. Wait for the perfect wave to come, ride it, let your body move, and doing it all over again.

Its around mid-day when you finally decide to get out the water, your hair is wet and messy. You paddle back to shore, standing up when its to shallow to keep paddling. You lift up the board, holding it on the side of your body and walking up to where you left your stuff. You put your board down onto the sand, laying your towel over it so you can soak up the sun for a while. you remember this thing you had seen on TikTok, a girl put sunscreen into the shape of a love heart on her leg whilst she was tanning, and when she took it off it left a love heart tan line on her skin “sunscreen tattoo”. You didn’t bring any sunscreen with you, but there was some in the surf shed so you decided to run up to your house.

You got to the shed, opening the door, and walking in. you found the Sun-Bum SPF50 sunscreen, you grab it throwing it up in the air and catching it again. You run back down to the beach, sitting down on your board. You decide to do it just above your bikini line in the shape of a sun, you made it look pretty, and lied down on the board. You set a timer for an hour on each side. Whilst you were tanning, you decided to take a photo for your Instagram story.

Once you posted the photo, you put your phone back in your bag, pulling out your book “The summer I turned pretty” written by Jenny Han. You lie on your board, reading the book and listening to the world around you. This is what you call “me time”.

2:00PM

It’s been 2 hours already, you stopped reading when you had to turn onto your stomach and instead fell asleep for an hour. You woke up when the hour timer went off. In that time, your hair had completely dried, and you had the best sun nap ever. You got up, stretching. You pulled your hair out of the bun it was in, you grabbed your hairbrush, brushing out all the knots. You put the brush back in the bag and pulled out your phone. Scrolling through the notifications. You opened Insta to see who liked your story and you were shocked when you saw JJ’s name. you smiled seeing his name on your screen, it was a new feeling. You put your phone back into the bag, standing up. You decided to go for a swim before going back inside. You ran down to the water, splashing it everywhere. You dived in getting fully soaked. You emerged out the water, pushing your hair back. You swam around for a little while, looking at all the tiny fishes that swam close to your toes.

3:00PM

You finally convinced yourself to get out the water and go back home. You collected all of your items and wrapped the towel around your body. You started walking back up the sand and to your backyard. You put your board outside the surf shed, letting it dry before you did put it in there. You walked pass your pool, and onto your porch. Your mum was sitting on the couch on her laptop, probably doing some work. You walked in, Oakley wagging her tail at you.

“Hey mum” you walked behind the couch to the kitchen to get some water.

“Hey bubba, did you have a good day?” you could hear here typing away at her laptop, she usually got off her devices when she spoke to you, so the fact that she is still on her laptop meant that she is really busy.

“Yeah, I surfed for like 4 hours, tanned for 2 and swam for 1” you pulled out a freezing cold bottle of water from the fridge and started chugging it.

“Sounds like fun, did you see anyone?” she asked, her voice not a genuine as what it usually is.

“No not today, I just wanted some me time” you swallowed another sip of water, “what did you do today?” you question her, putting the empty bottle in the recycling bin.

“Well, I took Oakley on a walk, when I got back, I saw you surfing from the house. I went to the shops, bumped into Rose Cameron, came home, and started doing some work” she replies, you can tell shes not really focused on the conversation.

“Oh cool, okay I’m gonna go for a shower” you walk towards the hall but pause when you hear your mum call out to you.

“Okay, let me know when you want dinner” you continued walking to your room, you put away all the stuff you had taken with you to the beach, then picked out a casual outfit to wear for the rest of the day.

You picked out your favourite sundress, its yellow with white flowers on it, for shoes you decided to go for your white converse. You put the dress on the bed and made your way into the bathroom. You pull the bikini off and look at your tan lines in the mirror. They are literally perfect. You turned on the shower, because your hair had only just been washed you chose to just rinse it out and put some conditioner in. You rinsed your hair, then put some Ouai conditioner. You put it in a claw clip and washed your body whilst waiting for it to soak in. you wash your body with the philosophy vanilla coconut body wash, cleansing every nook and cranny. Once you finished washing your body, you took your hair out of the claw clip brushing it with a comb before rinsing out the conditioner.

Finishing your shower, you changed into the yellow sundress and converse. You love the way the dress looks on you, it sits on all the right places, curving all the right curves it is utterly perfect. You sit down at your vanity, pulling out your Dyson air wrap. You started drying it, then styling it in our favourite way.

You put on your go-to gold jewellery stack that consist of 2 necklaces, one that has a diamond incrusted sun charm and the other with F/L/Y/N charm, then your pura vida bracelets for both wrists, your ring stack for both hands, and finally your favourite chunky gold hoops.

4:30 PM:

“I was thinking about going out for dinner tonight, what do you think?” your mum broke the silence between you.

“Ooh yeah, at the Wreck?” you respond, petting your dog Oakley who is sitting on the couch next to you.

“Yeah, I need to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Carrera anyways. Are you ready to leave now?” She stood up, shes wearing an outfit you hadn’t seen before. It’s a dark navy button up shirt, that’s tucked into high waist shorts. It looks really nice, elegant.

“Yeah sure, are we taking your car?” you stand up, walking over to the sliding glass doors closing them.

“Mhm, I’ll meet you at the car. Thanks for closing up” You continue closing other open windows and doors, once you did that you filled up Oakley’s water bowl. You walk out the front, your mum has already reversed the car out of the garage. You can hear her blasting music in the car. You stroll over to the car, opening the door of the passenger side and scotting in. Shes playing “Young Folks” written by Peter Bjorn and John. A song from one of your favourite tv shows “Gossip girls”.

You sit down at a table, tucking your dress behind your leg before sitting. You put your phone down on the table, looking around at the restaurant. Behind the counter you see Kiara working, she seems to be writing down an order. The restaurant is busy for a Monday night, you pick the menu off the table and read through the items.

“What are you thinking? I was looking at the prawn cocktail for a starter” your mum spoke, still looking at the menu.

“I was thinking some garlic bread” you reply, moving your eyes to the Mains. One thing catches your attention, their crab boil. You’ve heard a lot of good things about it but haven’t had the chance to try it.

“I think I’m going to get the tomato and tiger prawn pasta” your mum said, licking her lips. You put the menu down now that you know what you’re getting.

“I’m going to get the crab boil” you readjust your sitting position, taking a sip of water from the complementary water they gave you.

“Sounds delicious, what are your plans for tomorrow?” your mum questions, putting her menu down.

“I will hit up Sarah or something” Bzzzz, you feel your phone buzzing on the table. You pick it up, looking at the notification. Funnily enough its from Sarah, you open the message reading it.

“Have you spoken to JJ at all today?” the message causing your heart to beat faster, you re-read it thinking back to today.

You start typing “No y what’s happened?” you respond, staring at your phone waiting for her to respond.

“He’s gone MIA, he walked off earlier today and isn’t replying to anyone’s texts” You read through the message, carefully and slowly as to not miss any small details.

“I will lyk if I hear anything” you type out the words and hit sent, putting your phone back down on the table. Your mind rushes with thoughts of worry, you assume its not like JJ to disappear like that seeing as Sarah is asking you about it. You stare off to the distance, thinking about what could have happened.

“You okay princess” the words cut through the air like a knife, you blink turning your attention back to your mum.

“Yeah, just thinking about food” you laugh it off, forcing to push the thoughts about JJ to the side.

Kiara walks up to your table with a notepad and pen, “Welcome to the Wreck, Oh! Hi Miss Palmer” she realised who was sitting at the table halfway through the sentence, she glanced over to you giving you a half assed smile.

“Hello Kiara! How are you?” your mum asks her, she knows everything about Kiara and your friendship and what happened last year.

“Yeah, I’m good thank you! what can I get for you guys?” she asks, tapping the pen against her notepad.

“For starters, can I order garlic bread please” you speak, looking at the menu making sure your saying the right thing.

“Of course, and for you Miss Palmer?” Her voice is different to usual, probably her ‘customer’ voice.

“I would like the prawn cocktail please”

“And for mains?”

“I’ll get the crab boil please”

“Can I please have the tomato and tiger prawn pasta”

“Good choices, those are my favourites. Any drinks?”

“Y/N will have a sprite, and I’ll get a glass of your finest red wines” your mum finished the order, handing the menu over to Kiara. You pick yours up off the table, passing it to her as well.

“Perfect, shouldn’t be to long” you watch as she walks away, and behind the counter. You want to ask her about JJ.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom” you say, sliding your phone off the table. You push the chair back, standing up.

“Okay sweetie” your mum grabs her phone out of her purse. You turn around walking towards the counter. You slow down, your still thinking of what to say to her. You get to the counter, and she looks up at you.

“Hey, sorry I don’t mean to bother. Sarah was wondering if you’ve spoken to JJ at all?” you ask, putting your hands on the counter. She looks at you funny, as if you have spoken to her in a completely different language.

“No, I haven’t. Why?”  her words taste sour, she spits them out at you. you clear your throat.

“Apparently he’s gone MIA, walked away from the group earlier today and isn’t talking to anyone” you tap your fingers on the counter and watch as she types your order into the tablet.

“Haven’t heard from him. Look, I’m really busy right now I’ll talk to you later” She turns around, pushing open a door that leads into the kitchen. You stand there like a complete idiot, you decide to go to the bathroom before returning back to the table. You push the door open, and it squeaks obnoxiously as it closes behind you, you don’t even really need to use the toilet, so you just look at yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair.

When you walk out of the bathroom you see Mr Carrera standing at your table, talking to your mum. You walk up to the table, sitting down on your chair observing the conversation.

Its nothing interesting, just about a recent law case that is going on. You go back to your phone, scrolling through Pinterest. Your Pinterest feed is mainly couple photos, the ocean, room ideas, and surfing. You’re still thinking about JJ, your worried about him. Clearly Kiara couldn’t care less, you want to find him and make sure he’s okay.  

“And how are you Y/N?” Mr Carrera’s voice booms through your ears, you look up from your phone. He hasn’t spoken to you since last summer.

“I’m really good thank you, how are you?” you return the question, turning your phone off and throwing it onto your lap. He smiles, big white teeth grinning at you.

“I’m doing well thanks, same old” he laughs, gesturing to the restaurant around him. You smile sweetly, snickering, trying to be polite. You turn your focus back to your mum who’s watching the awkward exchange between you and Mr Carrera.

“Well, I hope you enjoy your food. Let me know if you need anything” He places a heavy hand on your shoulder, quickly taking it off.

“Thank you, Mike, talk soon” To your despair, your mum ends the conversation with him. You watch him walk away and through the same door that Kiara had walked behind earlier.

7:30 PM

Your mum pulls into the driveway, the taste of the crab boil still in the back of your throat. She puts the car into park and turns the car off.

“That food was delicious” Your mum expresses, picking her purse up from the floor of the car. You push the seat belt buckle, unclicking it from around your frame.

“Yeah, it was really good, my breathe smells like garlic now tho” you laugh, pulling the door handle to open the car door. You put one foot on the concrete, followed by the other you swiftly get out the car. You mum follows after you, slamming the car door when she gets out. You're stuck in thought, thinking about the way Kiara was so dismissive about JJ. You follow your mum to the front door, watching as she unlocks and pushes it open.

“Ladies first” she giggles like a school girl, standing to the side and gesturing you to go inside.

“Very funny, thank you” you laugh at her joke as you walk inside, the recognizable smell of home wafting you as you stood in front of the shoe wrack, kicking your converse off. Your mum gently presses her hand onto your back,

“I’m going to feed Oakley, then I’m heading to bed” she takes her hand off your back, walking past you and down the hallway into the living space. You can hear her calling Oakley and talking to her in a baby voice.

 You slump, finally free from having to act perfect all night. You walk down the hallway that leads to your room, pushing the door open you run over to your bed. Belly flopping on top of it. Your exhausted from today, the sun and water makes you feel so tired. You let your body relax, you lie there fighting off sleep. You groan, pulling yourself up. Sliding off the side of your bed you walk over to your dresser, searching through your pyjama drawer. You pull out a tight cropped grey shirt, and blue and white striped grandpa shorts. You hold the pyjamas in your hands as you walk into your bathroom, placing them on your sink bench. You unzip your dress, pulling it off your shoulders letting it slide down your legs. You step over the dress, leaving you standing in your bra and undies.

JJ’s POV:

I wince for every step I take, exhausted. I have my arm wrapped around my torso, trying to keep the pain as little as possible. I’m on figure eight, walking around in the dark. I hiss at the pain on my face when I wipe the sweat off my forehead. As I walk down the street, I look around me recognizing the houses around me. I’m somewhat near Y/N’s house, I need her, all I want is her right now.

I turn the corner, the smell of the ocean getting stronger with each step I take. I remember that Y/N’s house is right in front of the beach, I have to be close.

At this point I’m practically crawling, I’m hunched over trying to walk as fast as I can. Dad really did some damage this time, hope he’s happy. I force myself to stand up straight, groaning as I do so. I look down the street, noticing a manicured lawn and a big white house. Its Y/N’s. I sigh, relived to know I’m close to some sort of comfort. I can feel the blood drying up on my face, but the pain only intensifies.

I’m on my hands and knees, dragging my body up the lawn to a window. I can see dim lights shining through the sheer curtains, I just have to hope is Y/N’s room. I pull myself up with all the remaining strength I have left in my body, I stand in front of the widow. I stare into it, reluctant to tap on it. But I see a figure walk across the room, a breathy laugh exits me.

I knock on the window.

Y/N’s POV:

As soon as you sat down on your bed, you hear a knock at your window. your heart pounds in my chest, you jump up to your feet but freeze in place. Too scared to look.

Another knock on your window.

You lean to the right, trying to see if you could see who it was but you couldn’t see through the curtains, and its pitch-black outside.

Another knock on your window.

“Y/N are you there?” a voice comes from outside, you can barely make out the words. You wince at the sound of your name falling out of whoever’s mouth this is. “Please, let me in” you hesitate, hearing the words coated in a weep. “Fuck it if I die, I die, its whatever.” You whisper to yourself. You walk over to the window, pulling the curtains to the side. You nearly jump out of your skin when you see a face staring back at you. But your breath slows when you see its JJ’s blue gaze that’s staring at you, with a pleading look on his face. you sigh, shaking your head. You push the window up, opening it. A gush of humid air surrounds your body.

“JJ what the hell, you scared the shit out of me” you step back, giving the blonde room to climb into your room. You watch as he pulls himself in, but gasp as his body hits the floor with a thump. You look over him, his knuckles covered in blood and bruises. You move your eyes further up to his beautiful face, his lip is busted, dried blood under his nose, a black eye, and a huge gash on his forehead just below his hair line. His hair is covered in sweat, and messily dropped over his forehead. You stare at him, confused on what’s going on. You watch his chest rapidly rise and fall, his eyes frantic looking around your room. You drop to your knees by his side, looking him up and down thoughts rushing through your mind.

“JJ what happened?” your words come out harsher than you wanted them to. You look into his eyes, but he struggles keeping eye contact with you, looking down at the floor. You sit in silence, watching his jaw tense up and an angry scowl on his face.

“Nothing” he blurts out, he stands up fast causing you to fall backwards. He starts to climb out the window, “shouldn’t have come”. Your quick to grab his shoulder, his attention turns back to you.

“JJ, stop. What happened?” you tug gently at his shirt, telling him to come back inside. He rolls his eyes, leaning his head up against the window frame.

“Got in a fight” His words are sharp, to the point. Your hand still on his shoulder, you gently rub your fingers in circles. Barely touching him, but touching him enough to feel.

“With who JJ?” you question, watching the blonde swing his feet back onto your bedroom floor.

“Nobody doesn’t matter who” he stands up, towering over you. You place your hand on his chest, you can feel him quickly pull back from pain. You pull your hand off, hovering over where you had placed it. “Shit sorry”, you rush through the words, looking up at JJ.

“Your okay” He looks down at you, you can see his glazed blue eyes.

“JJ let me help you. Here sit down” you point over to your bed, you watch JJ in anticipation waiting to see if he will comply. He nods his head, you watch his as he limps over to your bed. Carefully he sits down on the corner of the bed, he is barely on it. It’s like he’s scared to sit on it. “Take your shirt off JJ, I’m going to grab the first aid kit” you hurry into your bathroom, squatting in front of your bathroom sink you pull open a drawer. You pull out the first aid kit, you kept it in your room because you often had surfing accidents. You stood up, closing the drawer with your foot. You can see JJ in the mirror as he pulls his white shirt off, revealing the mess of bruises and cuts all over his body. You take a deep breath before turning around and walking back to where you had left JJ.

[chitty-chitty-bang-bang-bang]

Vlad, Viago and Deacon as parents [pt. 3]

[part 1] [part 2]

Requested by @italakthoughts (btw, is it pronounced like “eehtalak” or “aytalak”?)

Author’s note: There will be some angst in this part, sorry guys, couldn’t help myself. This is probably the last part of this as headcanons, but I might make a one shot later. Also, I am still open to requests, but I will be a bit slower with posting, bc college is kicking my ass so hard it’s ridiculous.

_____________________________________________

All three have their favourite game to play with you.

For Deacon it’s tag. You run around the whole house, climbing walls and ceilings, turning into bats or dogs and always trying to outsmart each other.

With all the excessive energy both of you have, this is literally the perfect activity to get you to fall asleep faster, because your tag is hardcore. A human wouldn’t stand a chance.

With Vlad it’s blind man’s buff. Because of vampire’s heightened sensitivity, this game becomes all the more challenging for the one hiding, because you have to move very smoothly and be completely silent.

Of course, Vladislav still senses where you are, but he likes to give way to you. Your happy smile whenever you win is absolutely worth it.

Viago always goes for hide and seek. At first, you weren’t a very good at it and chose the most obvious hiding places. But with time you improved to the point, where Viago sometimes legitimately wonders if he lost you.

When he can’t find you for way too long, he just gives up and asks you to come out of your hiding place.

You also do a lot of tea parties together.

Just imagine the three of them sitting at a tiny table with toy cups filled with blood.

You usually made up some kind of weird circumstances for the party. For example, you pretend that you’re aristocratic mice, who conquered a cat’s lair and now celebrate your victory with a tea party. Or you are all wives of a wealthy king and you plot his murder to share the power between the four of you.

They really get into their imaginary roles. Though sometimes this can lead to them getting a bit carried away and actually starting a fight over a fictional event.

Nick and Stu often join in as well.

You really like playing with Vlad’s hair, since he has the longest out of the three and that means you can do a lot of funny hairdos. He doesn’t really mind, as long as you’re careful to not rip anything out (it grows back very fast, but it’s still an unpleasant feeling).

Deacon often gives you piggyback rides anywhere and everywhere. You basically use him as a jungle gym and while it sometimes annoys him, he rarely protests.

In winter, Viago always takes you ice skating. Even though you’re a vampire and you can’t catch a cold (or feel cold for that matter), he still insist on you wearing very warm clothes. People might think he’s not taking good care of his kid!

When they go to New York for the vampiric council duties (shoutout to wwdits show), they take you with them. Viago definitely takes you to see a musical. He’s not bailing on that. And it’s probably going to be something incredibly campy. Probably Andrew Lloyd Webber too.

You and Deacon have an absolute blast in the NY subway, scaring random people to death with little to no repercussions or getting into the last car and drinking whoever dared to sit there alone.

Some random blogger accidentally caught you and Vladislav turning into bats in an alleyway of Manhattan on video. So you had to hunt him down and hypnotise his whole audience into forgetting about the existence of that footage. It felt nice to be famous even if only for a bit.

As any flatting situation, these three have a lot of bickering and arguments.

They really try to avoid having any of those arguments in front of you, but sometimes it gets out of control. In those cases, they try to either deflate it or just ask you to leave the room and let them sort this out.

Petty or not, parents’ arguments are not something a child should be watching.

If you ever die from being burnt by sunlight or get killed by a vampire slayer they will be utterly devastated.

Vladislav is probably the best at handling it. He grieves silently by himself, reminiscing about all the fun silly things you’d say and do when he wasn’t in the mood. With time, the sadness numbs. But there is still that gaping emptiness somewhere in his immortal soul.

Viago would never forgive himself. Maybe if he took better care of you, if he paid more attention, if he took more precautions, if he kept a closer eye on you, if he was just by your side at the right time… maybe you’d still be running through the halls of this dusty house…

Deacon is just furious. He’s furious at whatever caused your death and he’s furious at you for being so reckless and getting yourself killed. Why do his closest ones keep leaving him so suddenly?

But that won’t happen obviously, you’re not dumb enough to die twice ;)

Genuinely, your time with them could be considered one of the happiest periods of your life. And if you tell them that, they will feel very proud of themselves.

All three of them really mean well and want to give you the childhood they never had.

[partnerlesspansexual]

Sensory Swing

(Hobie Brown/Spiderpunk x Autistic!GN!reader)

(summary: You had quite the overwhelming day, so you decide to come home and chill out in your sensory swing. Hobie, however, doesn't like feeling left out)

After coming home from work, your day filled with sensory overwhelming activities, you decide to take some time to yourself and relax in your sensory swing.

So, after kicking off your shoes and chucking your jacket onto it's assigned hook, you head upstairs to your bedroom for some well deserved (and needed) unwind time. You shut the door behind you and begin to undress, your itchy work uniform worsening the buzz going on in your brain; after removing your uniform, you put on your favourite snuggly hoodie and slip into your comfiest bed socks.

You of course need a snack to keep you occupied, so you uncover your secret stash of fruit roll ups that you keep under your side of the mattress.

To block out the noise of the busy London streets, you promptly shut the windows, put in your ear buds and start playing (*insert favourite artist*); now that you're fully prepared, you hop into your sensory swing, close your eyes and snuggle down, embracing the long awaited comfort of your own home.

A while later, you feel someone's breath on your face; and knowing full well who it is, you slowly open your eyes to see Hobie gazing at you as he hangs upside down from the ceiling with his mask lifted just above his mouth, classic spiderman style.

"You're so cliché, you know that right?"

You say quietly, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful vibe you've got going on.

"What? Can't a guy just appreciate his partner without being made fun of?"

Hobie asks, his tone laced with mock offence.

"Nope. Sorry babes, but thems the rules"

You respond, a smug smile plastered across your face. Hobie chuckles and plants a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose.

"Anyways, what're you up to, my little rioter?"

He asks as he hops down from the ceiling and starts to undress himself out of his spidersuit.

"Nothing much, just trying to de-stress a little. I had a really overwhelming day and I just... I just need to chill, y'know?"

You say tiredly as you offer him an exhausted smile. He returns the smile with a hint of sympathy as he sits down on the bed in front of you, wearing only his boxers and a baggy tank top.

"I'm sorry 'bout that, love. I know it's especially hard for you to get through the day, but you always do, no matter how tough it gets; and I admire you so much for that"

You blush and smile, his admiration warming your heart.

"So, what're you listening to? Bet it's something super cool"

He says as he fires his finger guns at you

"Just (*insert favourite artist here*). They always help calm me down"

You reply as Hobie nods

"Ah, I see. Very cool. Mind if I join you? I promise I won't disrupt your peaceful vibes"

Hobie asks, not wanting to feel left out. You chuckle at his pleas, take out one of your ear buds and chuck it at him

"Only if you promise to be quiet"

You say sternly but jokingly

"Cross my heart, hope to die"

He says quietly as he pops the ear bud in and lays back on the bed, resting his arms behind his head. You smile and snuggle back into your swing, happy to know that you're with someone who not only loves you unconditionally, but understands you. Really understands you. A moment passes before you speak again, your voice low but audible.

"Hobie?"

"Yeah, babes?"

"...

I love you"

Hobie chuckles as a warm blush spreads across his dark cheeks

"I love you too, my little rioter"

(Please forgive the astronomical levels of cringe, this is my first fanfic and I have a lot to learn)

[princess-of-the-corner]

Fanfic Recs

some of my favourite Miraculous Ladybug fanfics, in case anyone wants to read them. 

I would have put all of them, but I feel like recommending the author’s fanfic to the author is redundant.

Telling Lies? No Mama

Aishling

(My personal favourite long-form “Lila Exposed” fic. Portrays the class as flawed kids trying to do the right thing. Alya is far more supportive than in canon, and everyone is less of an idiot. Chloe even has a redemption - it can feel a little out of nowhere, but it is in-character for her, and I feel well-handled. Fair warning, Lila is very much portrayed as Evil, willing to work with a terrorist kind of evil, so it may not be for everyone.)

BURN THE WITCH

ChaoticNeutral

(My second favourite long-form “Lila Exposed” fic. Rather than the previous one, Lila is not portrayed as pure evil, but as opportunistic and manipulative, as well as impulsive and over confident. She’s so used to getting away with things that she doesn’t realize that there are some things she can’t lie away. It also has an interesting Akuma for the person manipulated by Lila, and some great characterization for all the characters.)

Threatened

Aki_Usagi

(yet another Lila Exposed fic, but one that changes things up a little. Marinette was all set to face Lila head on when she was the one being threatened, but what if Lila realized that? What if she didn’t threaten Marinette, but her friends?)

A Thief, a Thief

GalahadWilder

(Honestly, a super short drabble set just after Lila accuses Marinette of stealing - and it backfires hilariously.)

Double Monkey Dare

ChaoticNeutral

(a Lila Exposed fic that includes Kim at his most himb. one-shot)

Double Vision

dumbdpaus

(Marinette saves Lila’s life during an Akuma attack, and Lila is forced to do some examination of herself. One-shot)

Occam’s Razor

Flairina

(an interesting, alternative idea for why everyone believed Lila immediately - yes, magic was involved. No, it wasn’t Lila’s. Two-shot.)

what’s up danger

GuardianKarenTerrier

(A look at Miracuclass through the eyes of its teacher. One-shot. From the actual description on ao3:

“Caline Bustier has not seen a single one of her students come through the classroom door in a week and a half.

There would likely be more students on time if they weren’t all coming in through the windows or, in Juleka’s case, technically through the doorway- as much as going hand over hand along the ceiling counts. Caline’s not even sure how she’s doing that. 

She’s not even sure who to blame for this anymore.”)

If At First You Don’t Succeed

Leisey

(a long but hilarious one-shot of the Miracuclass - headed by Chloe - deciding to take the reins and make Adrienette happen.)

Restorative Justice

Kasienda

(Chloe sitting through an in class activity she hates with a passion, and realizing that the two of only people she cares about - Adrien and Ladybug - are drowning under their responsibilities, and deciding to do something about it. Honestly one of my favourite versions of Chloe.)

Crash and Burn

quicksilversquared

(“Everyone expected Hawk Moth to die in a dramatic fashion during some battle with Ladybug and Cat Noir.

No one expected him to die in a car accident on a week day afternoon.

Least of all his son.”)

What the Cat Dragged In

Kryal

(A pretty good crossover fic with the Avengers. Tony Stark, Clint Barton, and Natasha Romanov head to Paris, and encounter the local heroes, the villain, and some kids with fascinating insights on how this whole “Miraculous” thing works.)

Little Devil

angelofthequeers

(An interesting take on Marinette being Akumatized, and Chloe becoming Ladybug. Pretty enjoyable.)

-

I think I’ve read a good chunk of these lmao.

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

For the Love of Horror

(Dieter x horror-loving female reader)

Summary: The reader is totally me; I love horror films and I usually watch them on my own as most of my friends are scaredy cats. There aren’t that many fics where the male character is the one scared of film and Dieter seemed to be the perfect fit.

Warning: no use of y/n, mentions of scary films, Dieter being scared of said scary films, slight euphemisms, saucy suggestions, lots of adorable fluffiness

Notes: I sort of ignore the ending of the film. In fact I wrote my own here also check out the masterlist for more of these two here

Dieter Bravo loved you, but you loved horror films, and he was the biggest scaredy cat in the world.

You’d first met the strange but handsome actor as his makeup artist for an indie film. On Sap of Justice, he played a man hunting down his wife’s killer while slowly being turned into a tree. He won a SAG or something for that, he didn’t care, but it required hours in the makeup chair.

You showed up on the first day wearing a bright yellow jumper, an even brighter smile and a Tupperware full of homemade cookies. He was instantly smitten.

His latest rehab stint actually worked this time, but he ended up developing a giant sweet tooth. While the rest of the crew did not appreciate your delightful treats, Dieter ended up consuming more than he should have, usually while he was sitting in his makeup chair, making a bit of a mess.

You then came up with the idea of giving him a piece of chocolate to slowly melt on his tongue so he could sit back and let you do you work. You’d slip in another piece onto his tongue when he ran out, it was probably the most sensual thing he’d ever experience.

He was happy to just sit and listen to you as you babbled on about films, most of which he’d never heard of. You knew a surprising amount, more than most directors he’s worked with.

He couldn’t help but smile at your bubbly enthusiasm and he just wanted to be around you. But that tiny colourful you had a dark interior: your love of horror films.

The first time you invited him over to watch a scary movie, he thought it was a euphemism for his favourite activity and he was excited.

But no.

You put on Hereditary.

He spent the rest of the night alone in his room with the lights on, his eyes never leaving the ceiling.

The following night he had a nightmare where he was stuck in a dollhouse with naked people.

He was so relieved when you wanted to have another movie night. He suggested maybe a romantic film this time round.

So, you put on Candyman.

Dieter couldn’t look at himself in a mirror for at least a week.

The third time he suggested watching a comedy film.

So, you put on An American Werewolf in London.

This time it was less scary as he mainly spent the time looking at you while you enthusiastically explained in detail how Rick Baker achieved the first transformation scene and how horror films lead to your career choice.

That was when he fell in love completely and utterly in love with you.

And he needed to come clean about his horror film phobia.

Thankfully, you didn’t kick him to the curb like the piece of garbage he believed he was. You apologized profusely for taking over film choices with your favourites and it was definitely his turn to choose his favourite.

Dieter shyly suggested Beauty and the Beast to which you sighed and said it was your favourite non-horror film and immediately put it on. You put your head on his shoulder as you watched it.

“So why is this your favourite film Dieter?”

“Well…I like to think that if a beast can fall in love and get a happily ever after, then that gives me hope”

Your reply was a hug and kiss on the cheek,

He could certainly get used to this. It was nice.

Eventually, you both found a compromise with your film watching together. No horror film before dark and not every time you got together. You hunted around to find the least scary horror films when it was your choice. And you suggested he watch Dead Meats Kill Count which helped because Dieter could at least anticipate when the scary parts would happen beforehand. You always made sure to turn the volume down when a jump scare was going to happen.

In the meantime, Dieter worked with his therapist to uncover the reason behind his scaredness of scary films. He suspected it was that donkey scene in Pinocchio was the cause of trauma but there was still work to do.

You saved him from your guilty pleasure films such as Snakes on a Plane and the Final Destination series, so you instead only subjected him to the good ones: the really good, critically acclaimed, award-winning ones. He finally watched The Shining and Get Out which ended up not being as scary as he thought.

Dieter discovered he had missed out on a huge amount of great films. You were both sobbing wrecks at the end of Train to Busan and he absolutely loved Willem Dafoe’s crazy ass monologue in The Lighthouse and immediately had to learn it himself.

You discovered that Dieter had a huge love for animated films and would sing along to every song, every time. Of course he knew all the lyrics to Under the Sea and Be Our Guest which you couldn’t help but smile at, he was just that adorable.

And you were roped into a duet of A Whole New World. Dieter was just a big romantic at heart. It was a side of the actor no one knew or cared about.

Whenever a new horror film came out at the cinema, you were more than happy to go by yourself as you were used to that. He survived watching A Quiet Place with the volume down and praised your bravery and madness for seeing it at the cinema alone.

But when there were times when you really wanted to see a film not in the cinema and Dieter didn’t want to be alone, something to do with his love of cuddles with you or something. This would be when you’d watch it with headphones one and Dieter would be hiding his head in your lap. Most of the time you’d run your fingers through his hair, and he’d fall asleep.

He liked this.

He could get used to this.

Two years later…

“Honey cakes, I’m home!”

You practically skipped across the hallway to give your boyfriend Dieter his well-deserved welcome home hugs and kisses.

This was the best part of his day.

You were now living together in his huge house, and both couldn’t be happier. Dieter was happy to wake up next to you every day and you were happy to finally be able to watch horror films on his huge TV.

“How was the meeting with your agent?”

“Not bad. Got given this script for a TV thing to read through.”

You perked your face in interest. “Oh? Thinking of moving away from films?”

“Well, I’m told this is a pretty good script. Written by some guy named Mike Flanagan…”

You promptly screamed.

Dieter almost flew across the room; he’d never heard you scream before. And he thought he did a pretty good job in the bedroom.

“Mike Flanagan?!!!”

“Is he good?”

“Is he good?!!!”

You proceeded to grab the collar of his shirt and started shaking him in excitement.

“He makes Stephen King good, that’s how good he is!”

You’d never been rough with him before, and he liked it. A lot.

Your tiny body was bouncing around like a jellybean, you were that excited.

“You remember that film Oculus? The one with the mirror?”

“Is that the one with the hook hand guy?”

“No, that was Candyman; the second film we watched together. Oculus has that one big mirror and Karen Gillan.”

He was surprised you remembered your second date.

“Oh yeah, that one”

“And Gerald’s Game was amazing!”

“I still occasionally have nightmares about that tall man”

“Aw, I’m sorry”

You immediately hugged him, and he rubbed your back in appreciation.

“So, you think I should read the script?”

“If you get to work with Mike Flanagan, I’ll marry you!”

“Seriously?”

But you had bounced away at this point. Pouting, Dieter immediately pulled out his phone and called his agent.

“Hey, that TV thing you gave me the script for: I’ll do it, sign me up”

“You’ve already read it? That was quick”

“No, but I have it on good authority from an expert that it’ll be good, so I’ll do it”

“Alright then, but still read the script”

“Yeah, yeah of course. Hey, um…are they needing any makeup artists by the way?”

“Probably. Are you recommending your girlfriend again?”

“Well, she’s the best, and if she got to work on this job, she’d probably have my baby which sounds…nice”

Dieter was lost in this happy fantasy until his agent interrupted him.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Gotta go. Bye!”

He quickly hung as because you had returned by then and you had that look: the look that meant he was going to be subject to a new horror themed piece of media.

“Now, I’m thinking you should at least watch one of Flanagan’s series to help with your decision and we should definitely watch Midnight Mass”

“Hang on, I’ve heard of that one. That’s the one everyone on set wouldn’t shut up about”

“Because it’s good!”

“Hasn’t it got vampires in it?”

“Yes. But it also has monologues”

This piqued his interest.

“I like monologues”

“I know you do and there’s lots in this one.”

You got up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss.

“Now, get in your favourite comfy clothes. I want us to fit in a few episodes before it gets dark.”

“Yes ma’am!”

You gave his small butt a playful slap as he walked away.

He was going to have to get out that engagement ring from its hiding spot sooner than he thought.

Films referenced: Hereditary (2018), Candyman (1992), An American Werewolf in London (1981), Beauty and the Beast (1991), Snakes on a Plane (2006), Final Destination (2000), The Shining (1980), Get Out (2017), Train to Busan (2016), The Lighthouse (2019), The Little Mermaid (1989), Aladdin (1992), A Quiet Place (2018), Oculus (2013), Gerald's Game (2017), Midnight Mass (2021)

Lovingly tagging @cevans-is-classic

[dearmailman]

hi!!! i was wondering if you could write a bit of a caregiver wally taking care of a regressed reader? my brain goes to them doodling while laying on the floor and other arts n crafts activities, maybe also wally singing the reader to sleep for a nap? much thanks if this is something you can do!!!

Delivery for you! I hope you enjoy.

Wally's crayons scratch against paper pleasantly, the soft sound filling the room as you both draw. You're always so glad to come over, and not to brag, but he does always say you're his favourite neighbor. You glance across at him to look at his art, and smile at how utterly unshocking it is that he's drawing an apple.

"Neighbor, please do not peek," he scolds lightly, smiling as he wraps his arms around his paper.

"Sorry!" you squeak, turning your head away as you go pink with the embarrassment of being caught. You roll over from where you're laying on your stomach, looking up at the ceiling. Green stars line the expanse, not yet glowing as it's only around noon. A door creaks somewhere down the hall, before banging itself three times.

"Oh!" Wally claps and sits up to his knees. "Home is talking to you."

"You sure it's not you?"

"Oh dear, do you suppose?"

Before you can continue, a table bumps itself until crafting paper slides off onto the floor. Wally tries to catch it, but being paper and tending to fly in every direction, he only successfully nabs one. He stares at it, deciphering.

"I think Home would like to draw with us." He tilts his head, gazing at Home's wall. He sets the piece he caught and some blue crayons next to the wall. You gaze at him, never sure how exactly Home plans to take part in everything Wally does. If he feels included that's good, though.

"I think Home is going to draw..." Wally pauses, "A bird."

"I think he'll draw um," you consider for a long moment of silence. Wally waits patiently. "A horse?"

Wally's face slowly but surely brightens, until he laughs softly. "Ha ha ha, Reader I don't think Home has seen a horse."

"Well neither have you."

"Maybe he will just imagine," Wally says matter-of-factly. "I think an imaginary horse will be nice."

"Give it wings and a sword, Home!"

"Do horses have those?"

"No, but an imaginary one could!"

Wally pauses, touching his chin as he considers. "Okay. Give it wings, Home." He crawls back to his paper, which you were distracted from peeking at, and covers it again.

"Why won't you let me see, bubba!" you pout at him.

"Because I am drawing it for Y - O - U," he smiles, tapping your nose.

"Wally, you've already drawn me so many apples."

His crayon scratches a large, wide circle along the paper, then he inspects it carefully. He holds it up, showing you. "You are just the apple of my eye! See? It is special."

A shining red apple sits as the pupil of a paper-wide black eye outline. It has eyelashes, and the apple inside is one of the best he's created.

"Woah... special apple," you nod reverently, looking far too serious.

Wally pats his palm on your face - a gesture picked up from Barnaby - and hands you the paper. He sits back and yawns, which makes you yawn twice as hard. "Are you tired, neighbor?"

"Nooooo," you lie.

"The sun is very high. When the sun is high, that is usually when I take you to lay down."

"Noooo!" you say more insistently.

He shakes his head slowly, fingers tapping his chin. "Yeeees," he draws out very slowly. "You should listen to me, neighbor."

"Why?"

"Because I am bubba," he nods decisively.

Beaten, you give in and help him put your drawing supplies away. As you clean though, you do start to get rather sleepy. You rub your eyes as Wally neatly puts away the last of his crayon boxes. You're so drowsy you barely notice his hand held out to you. You look up to his charming smile, and smile back as you take his hand and stand.

The shorter puppet leads you through the hallway, Home shaking picture frames to wave as you go. Wally always has the guest room set up nicely. A soft, fluffy quilt and an even softer pillow make it hard to resist nap time as he helps you lay down.

"Wally?"

"Yes, Reader?"

"Can I have a lullabye?"

"Hum..." Wally touches his cheek thoughtfully. "I don't think Barnaby has taught me any new songs."

"I don't mind an old one."

Wally sits himself on the bed beside your tucked in body, placing a hand on your hand. He starts humming different notes, testing for a song that feels right.

"Listen listen, now that you've got me made," he begins in a rhythm perhaps not intended. "Goodness but I'm afraid, something is going to happen to you∼ Listen listen, you got to be hooked and how I would die if something happened to you now..." The tune is upbeat, soft. He rubs his thumb on your hand gently as he sings.

"Button up your overcoat, when the wind is free - take good care of yourself, you belong to me!" He watches your face as you rest, smiling more than even his usual one. "Eat an apple every day, get to bed by three - oh, take good care of yourself, you belong to me."

You giggle sleepily, snuggling into your blankets. He closes his eyes, rocking to and fro as he sings to you. Even Home is silently listening.

"Be careful crossing streets, ooh oh. Don't eat meats, ooh oh. Cut out sweets, ooh oh. You'll get a pain and ruin your tum tum∼ Take good care of yourself, you belong to me!" He punctuates himself with a kiss to your forehead. "Ha ha, I'm sorry neighbor, that's all I remember."

"It's so pretty, Wally," you yawn.

"That's good! Did I help you sleep?"

"Well, I'm not asleep yet, but I do feel tired..."

"Why do you sound nervous, Reader?" He sets his hand on your forehead and brushes your hair back.

"I'm okay, bubba. I just don't... really want to be alone."

"Ahh, dear," he nods sympathetically. He looks around the room, seemingly in thought. "I don't exactly have all that and some to do right now. I can stay in here with you."

"Really?"

"Really," he says as he lays down beside you. He runs his hands across your hair repeatedly, still humming, though none of the notes seem to belong together.

With him watching over you and a gentle hand on your head, it becomes almost too easy to drift to sleep. And knowing him, he'll be exactly here when you wake up too, still singing to you.