#i mean i could watch a stream at the wedding but that’s rude

[clamsjams]

glad today seems to be a slow day on the qsmp bc i’m going to my friends wedding later today and i def won’t be able to watch anything so i’m glad i prob won’t miss much

[shikai-the-storyteller]

KARMALAND REVOLUTION FINALE

Luzu: The first snow of the season comes with Karmaland first civil war. All the members at war and only one winner. Fire is calming me. Makes me feel things are simpler. Everything could've been simpler. What could have happened if we just spoke, if I just told Quackity why I did what I did, if Quackity wouldn't have done everything he did? I guess we'll never know. We only have what we have today. I can only defend me and my people today. Oh this writing is so beautiful but so tragic. What could’ve been... what was meant to be...

Luzu: I’m here Vegetta: Hold on a moment, I’m with Rubius :) Luzu: You’re WHAT

I’m watching Luzu’s POV did Rubius actually convince Vegetta to join him???

Rubius: This is shameful, smells like treason! Vegetta: You’re one to talk, you STOLE MY BRIDE

LMAO Alexby camouflaged lmfao. I adore Alexby

UHHHHH WHY IS STAXX RED. IS THIS THE STAXX FROM THE OTHER DIMENSION???

Wait is Staxx pretending to be on their side?? Does Luzu not know???

Staxx: I was told you are gonna have a good time and y'all will get me weapons. Vegetta told me they told me lies about you, Luzu. That you're oppressive, you kill them without warnings... STAXX. YOU”RE GONNA GET VEGETTA KILLED

Ahh Luzu’s telling them what happened to his daughter and showing them the heads Quackity left

I’m glad Staxx logged in for this event

Rubius just said he has a nuclear TNT, he says that if something bad happens they will blow it up and goodbye karmaland 5 RUBIUS DON”T YOU FRICKIN DSMP US, I”LL BE SO MAD

that would be a bit funny though since he just blew up the server on Saturday LMAO

OH STAXX ADMITTED HE AND ALEXBY FREED THE ANIMALS uh oh

FRICK QUACKITY LIVE

“Today, Luzu dies or I die” NOOOO

LMAO Rubius and Alexby eavesdropping

UH OH. THE LIGHTNING AND THUNDER... the gods are waiting to see how this ends

Luzu and the rest of the members: *screams of war as they fight* Quackity rn: *talking about yesterday’s Streamies*

QUACKITY FORGOT TO CHANGE HIS SKIN LMAO

What do you mean you haven’t eaten breakfast yet Quackity!!!!! (*is a hypocrite because I also haven’t eaten yet*)

Quackity really roll straight out of bed and hit stream, big mood

Quackity: I’m gonna text my mom, to ask her if we can eat some enchiladads. Awh..... that’s really sweet. I love Quackity’s mom :(

Awww Quackity’s talking about the skin maker who’s been doing all his skins :’)

Quackity didn’t want the one without a shirt ABSOLUTELY valid

WAIT NO HIS SKIN HAS BLACK CLOTHES, PLEASE DONT TELL ME THOSE ARE YOUR FUNERAL CLOTHES

Not Staxx asking for flashbang bombs because they’re what Titi loved best 😭😭 😭😭 

QUACKITY LITERALLY ALL THE OTHER BOYS ARE FIGHTING WHILE YOU”RE DOING THIS

wait I looked away for TWO SECONDS WHY IS LUZU SHOOTING AT SAPO PETA

Vegetta, talkinga bout the revolution: A cop that isn't a cop, a mayor that never was, and... Alexby. FRICKIN RUDE

Luzu: Wait, the fight can't be in town. No more innocent people can die, let's go to the esplanade. Well thank goodness for that

Luzu: Don't shoot first. If there's violence, it has to come from the revolution first. As always. QUACKITY DONT SHOOT AND MAYBE WE CAN TALK THIS OUT ok I say that but I don’t trust Rubius or Alexby’s trigger finger

Sapo Peta refused to choose a side and he logged out of Karmaland :((((((

Sapo Peta: I’ll come back when you decide to stop destroying each other sobs

Quackity: *is late* Luzu: A man late to the fight is a man with fear. LMFAO GETTEM

Not Rubius sending kisses in the chat

Luzu shaking Vegetta like “PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER, REMEMBER THIS MAN JUST RUINED YOUR WEDDING” and Vegetta’s like “But Luzuuuu :((((”

LMAO Quackity just said love to Rubius but Rubius didn’t understand what he was saying LMFAO.... EMBARRASSING

OH FINALLY THEY”RE ALL TOGETHER I can finally mute one stream

I’m watching Luzu and Quackity ahhHHHH

:(((

LMAO he revealed the Christiano Ronaldo ruse from yesterday pftt

HUH WHY DID EVERYONE’S SCREENS GO DARK

oh LMFAO THEYRE DOING THE CIVIL WAR POV SHOT

I love that Quackity downloaded a mod to make it more dark and spooky

wait

HUH

ALIENS????? TITI’S DAD????

ARE THEY GONNA HAVE TO STOP THE WAR TO UNITE AGAINST ALIENS??? HELL YEAH

Ok here I was thinking they’d have to unite to fight against the gods but THIS IS JUST AS GOOD

SAPO PETA IS BACK

Alexby: They are rubius brothers, they are ugly as him THESE GUYS ARE SO MEAN TO EACH OTHER LMFAO

QUACKITY PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU, YOU AND LUZU HAVE TO UNITE TO FIGHT TOGETHER

Vegetta: Alien attack thumbnail! :D VEGETTA NOW IS NOT THE TIME LMFAO

Quackity: What have you done, Luzu! Luzu: This wasn't me! It's from outside town! Can't we stop fighting for a second?!?! LMFAO QUACKITY IM BEGGING YOU

Quackity: After im done with this, you are gonna be the next one, Luzu. QUACKITY NO.... well you can’t say he doesn’t keep his eye on the prize

OH.... THE IRONY....

Quackity was being attacked by an alien and Luzu rushed to protect him :((( Some things never change

I love how Quackity’s shaders add to the atmospheric-ness of the moment

Meanwhile Rubius and Vegetta are watching each other’s backs to make sure they’re safe wahHHH

Sapo Peta???

PLEASE don’t let Sapo Peta die today

Rubius: Help! Vegetta: I’ll save you even if I don’t like you Rubius: Careful, behind you! Don’t touch Vegetta, you bastard!

QUACKITY STOP BLAMING LUZU FOR TWO SECONDS AND LISTEN PLEASE!!!

STAXX KEEPS FLASHBANGING EVERYONE LMAO

Oh they’re gonna team up against the aliens and fight on Wednesday??? WELP. AT LEAST IT WONT BE WHILE IM AT WORK TOMORROW

Luzu: I compromised with Quackity to join forces one day and fight for the people. Quackity, are u free on Wednesday? LMFAO that’s so frickin cute it’s like they’re planning a date. Imagine aliens are raining down fire and Luzu’s like “So uh. You can’t do today or tomorrow, how about Wednesday?”

Vegetta: It’s a date it’s a date!!! LMFAO OK SO I WASN”T THE ONLY ONE WHO THOUGHT THAT, ALRIGHT.

Everyone: FOR KARMALAND!!!! SOBS

Staxx: AND HERE’S ONE MORE FLASHBANG! :D PFTTT

WAIT WHAT ABOUT WILLY

Luzu: Quackity... Quackity: I don’t want to talk to you ahhh the way they stopped to look at each other :(((

Sapo Peta said they have to revive Titi to get his help to make a spaceship MAN. IS THAT THE ONLY WAY POOR TITI IS GETTING REVIVED LMAO

OHHH THEYRE GONNA GO TO ANOTHER PLANET, COOL

WAIT WHY ARE THEY GOING TO THE END TO KILL THE DRAGON

Luzu’s getting hit with such bad lag they suggested he go rest and Quackity was like “Rest? You’re such an old man” LMAO

Sapo Peta suggesting a party at Vegetta’s house PFTT. IT”S A TRADITION, I KNOW, BUT

Quackity: If Luzu doesn’t leave the mayor’s office after all this is over, I’ll kill him

NOOOO poor Luzu his lag is so bad :((( At least Alexby is hanging out with him

AWH... LUZU REUNITED ALEXBY WITH HIS HARAMBEE MONKEY.... :’) He’s still good in his heart of hearts

I flip from that wholesome scene to Vegetta and Rubius fighting about cats like an old married couple

Quackity is essentially just shoving his camera in Rubius and Vegetta’s faces rn LMAO

Luzu: I was taking care of him here. Alexby: I'll forgive you for everything! AWH... FRIENDSHIP WINS

Luzu’s having a heavy lore moment rn by himself meanwhile Quackity is chasing Rubius and Vegetta around listening to them fight with a giant grin on his face

Luzu: We won't do it for ego, or pride, or to show off. We'll do it for Karmaland! It's always for Karmaland. I love him so much

AHHHH Luzu looks so beautiful with the snow behind him like that

Awh Luzu did a great job

MEANWHILE QUACKITY....

Quackity: Any conversation between you two (Rubius and Vegetta) looks like a reality show, you guys get so frickin angry LMAO

Vegetta: It’s his fault! He’s the one who’s fighting! Rubius: Me? You’re the one crying. Mua mua mua

OH They’re fighting because Rubius wants to go to the end and Vegetta says they should do it when they’re all together I AGREE WITH VEGETTA

IT REALLY DOES

SAPO PETA PULLED A FRICKIN ROCKET LAUNCHER ON THEM LMFAO, HE’S SO SICK OF THEM FIGHTING

Now LMFAO WAIT HOLD ON

hang on I’m clipping that

Rubius, chasing Vegetta and asking for a kiss Vegetta, spitting on him Quackity, pulling up their ages:

QUACKITY CAN”T DO MATH

Rubius: You don’t have a son! Vegetta: But I have my cats! >:( Quackity: Your guys’ ages combined are 65, just thought I’d let you know Quackity is SUCH a bastard, I love him so much

I love that Rubius and Vegetta will be yelling at each other at the top of their lungs then Rubius will give him a kiss and apologize. Lord. k!Rubegetta are so sweet....30 years married couple

NOT QUACKITY ASKING VEGETTA HOW TO FIND MODS AFTER BEING IN KARMALAND FOR 6 MONTHS.... BOY....

Awh Rubius told Quackity he was very handsome yesterday HE”S RIGHT

Quackity: Why would you make me have to team with Luzu to defeat this enemy? You know I hate him! Sapo Peta: ... just listen for a moment Oh???

HUH

THAT CAN”T ACTUALLY BE A GIFT FROM LUZU CAN IT???

Luzu destroyed his house and Sapo Peta just gave him a house he said was from Luzu. Is it really though??? Or is this Sapo Peta trying to smooth things over between Quackity and Luzu?

Quackity’s first instinct is to look for cameras because he doesn’t trust Luzu :(((

Quackity complaining about the house when Quackity’s own house that he built didn’t have a roof for MONTHS

Quackity: Trust Luzu? You want me to trust Luzu!? Sapo Peta, I'll tell you the truth: right now, I've made a temporary alliance just for Karmaland's sake, but when this is through, I'm going to put a bullet through Luzu's head. AGH... But yeah. Quackity’s not one to forgive and forget, no matter what happened

Quackity: I am bad because of the effects of my action, but I have never hurt anyone. It is always because they have forced me. They see my stupid face and I have to defend myself :((((((((( I want to hug him so tightly

Sapo Peta: That’s the talk of a terrorist That’s fair

Only one braincell between Rubius and Quackity, I swear

WHY ARE THEY MINING OIL ON QUACKITY”S OLD HOUSE

Girl the next Karmaland war is going to be about oil, I swear

MAN. MANNNNN IM SO GLAD IT DIDNT END IN BLOODSHED this is the best outcome I could’ve hoped for. This feels more in-line with Karmaland’s theme

This gives them time to heal and possibly reconcile, or at least, for tensions to lessen. I think Luzu will wind up forgiving him, but Quackity can’t. Either that, or Luzu will sacrifice himself to protect everyone else (which would suck and be a bad ending, but it seems likely too). Can’t wait to see what happens on Wednesday!

[crazybigredlove]

22nd November 2013 

Dear Pete, 

Each time I think I am done with Big Red he calls again and sends me back to the start. 

Whether it was naivety or ignorance it's hard to say, but when he walked in the door an hour after I hung up on his call, my body froze in shock. "You're actually here." Curled up in a ball reading a book, biomechanical control had disappeared and I couldn't have moved if I wanted to. 

"Told you I would be. Don't you fucking believe me?" "This time I really didn't know. That's why I hung-up on you. So you wouldn't." "Miss me?" The grin was on my face and I was nodding before a conscious thought could even be formed. The disgust took no time building in my stomach and spread to the back of my throat. "Actually, I hate you." "I know," he laughed. He threw himself down on the couch beside me. "Guess what?" My body still refused to move. "Good or bad?" "Both." "Oh, God." "I'm moving." "What? In with your girlfriend?" His arm draped itself over my legs and pulled them in close, hugging them tight to his chest. The arm seemed to increase in mass as my brain suddenly snapped back to life, remembering this wasn't a teddy bear in need of a hug, but a cruel and callous man with a constant preoccupation with sex, a girlfriend who wasn't me, and an ability to strike out at me during my weakest moments. 

"Yeah, but, that's not what I meant." "Then what did you mean?" 

He shouldn't have been as relaxed as he was and the imaginary hand wrapping itself around my throat, squeezing it so tight I felt no air would ever pass through again, was serving as a reminder of why I couldn't afford to allow him back in. 

"Up the coast." The world stopped. The invisible hand squeezed tighter. For all the acting and all the refusing that he would get to me this time, there was the echoing thump of blood pumping faster ringing in my ears. 

What the fuck was I doing? They were moving away together, building a life, ensuring their lives were even more entangled, taking steps. Why was his arm wrapped around my knees while we lay there joking and laughing on the couch? Why was he here? 

I did so well though. I laughed as we ordered takeaway. Laughed more as we watched a movie. Kept laughing through all three times we had sex. There was nothing but laughter as we cuddled up afterwards on the couch. It wasn't till this morning after lying awake all night staring at the ceiling wondering why I had walked myself through the emotions that I couldn't hold that wall up any longer. I had faked it. For all that time the night before I had faked it and I was still no closer to the answer that I desperately needed. 

"I need to know. Am I just sex to you?" "What?" There was still sleep in his eyes and he shot me an unimpressed look for the rude awakening. "Is it only sex? Be honest." Maybe it was the desperate look on my face or it could've been the early hour, but he didn't fight me. "I care about you. If it was just sex I wouldn't still think about you." "But how do I know that's real, that what you're saying is the truth when your girlfriend who you're moving away with thinks you're at your mother's house right now?" 

"You don't." 

The silence spread till ten minutes later, neither of us able to bear it anymore, it pushed him out the door. "I'll see you again." His eyes told me he wanted to believe it every scrap as much as I probably had wanted to all those months before when the first alarm had sounded in my body. 

"No, you won't. You're a two now. You'll come back for weddings, birthdays, holidays, but always together. We won't see each other ever again. You're moving away together. This has to end." Tears streamed down my cheeks, flushed hot in humiliation. All this time and I was still there. Acid-tipped my tongue. "At least you got sex one last time before we truly said goodbye." 

We kissed. He left. He walked out of my life without a backwards glance and without a second thought. I had to let him. I wasn't allowed to cry. There was no one I could call who wanted to hear it anymore. Whatever I was feeling was entirely my own fault and people were sick of hearing time and again that I was finally walking away. This I have to ride out on my own and prove that after all these months and the countless declarations that it’s done, that this time it really is over. 

There is nothing left but to stand in it as the rain came and hope that it didn't drown us. 

Liv x 

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Words, Words, Words

Prompt: Hey, prompt idea! I would love some roman angst where after POF he stops talking and the other assume that he's mad at them when in reality he is unable to speak. As a selective mute myself, I would love to read a fic like this! - anon

it's been a while since I've posted fresh Roman angst and WOW did this jump out at me and go hey do you wanna project really really hard onto a character? 

Read on Ao3

Warnings: Roman is nonverbal for a lot of this story and some of the things he does when he’s upset by that are self-destructive, nothing explicit

Pairings: the found family kick aint stopping

Word Count: 4128

He didn’t do it on purpose. He swears, he—he didn’t do it on purpose.

  He just couldn’t talk.

It—it hurt, of…of course, it hurt to—to see the fallout of his bad decision explode with such…disastrous consequences. It hurt to see Patton so upset and confused because everyone was expecting him to have answers that he didn’t and—and Roman will take the blame for that, that’s his fault. And it hurt to see Logan so upset even when he was just there in his lowdowns and he—he didn’t have to be so cruel to Logan, that’s his fault too. And it—

  …it hurt to see that he really is just as awful as Remus, even if J—

  No. It doesn’t matter.

  Roman messed up. Really, really bad. And he’ll take the blame for that, he will, he—he knows he hasn’t been the best at accepting the blame in the past, but…he’ll take this one.

  But he didn’t do this on purpose.

  Roman doesn’t know whether it’s because he’s Creativity, or whether he’s the Ego, or what, but sometimes he just…can’t speak. Sometimes his words machine will just…stop working and he won’t be able to speak. He can normally still write or text, and he can understand when others talk, he just can’t say anything.

  The others don’t know, at least he’s never told them. He doesn’t want to be a bother—or have them start to make fun of him when he can’t defend himself—so he normally makes his writing days the ones where he can’t speak out loud. It’s a good way to make sure no one’s worried about why he’s shut up in his room all day or why he’s not speaking much at dinner. Plus, what kind of a prince would he be if he couldn’t talk?

  Don’t worry, he knows he’s not a prince.

  But the others like Prince Roman. Or rather, they like the narrative function that Prince Roman fulfills. So he does his best to make sure they…get that.

  But he didn’t mean for it to happen, not like this.

  He…he knows he messed up after the wedding. He sunk out and made it to his room and fell to his knees, hurt from everything and then some. The bruises hadn’t shown through his costume or gotten too far down his sleeves, but he—he still felt them. He tried to get up and make it to the shower to just wash off the day—the week—the month but getting his arms up to peel away the costume left him panting and he just wanted to curl up and sleep until everything stopped hurting.

  He managed to get himself into the shower and felt his tongue become lead in his mouth.

  He cleared his throat to try and make a noise but all that escaped was a soft rush of air.

  It…hurt.

  It wasn’t gone by morning. Most of the time he can sleep it off or—or if he just gives it some time he’ll—he’ll be fine but it wasn’t gone. His tongue lay there, useless, and he couldn’t say a word.

  That was okay, though, he could—he could make this a writing day. He wouldn’t dare touch anything he wanted to make for Thomas, his hands would shake too much and he—he doesn’t know what Thomas wants anymore so he wouldn’t get it right even if he could try.

  No, no, he could…he could write things for him today.

  Not as a reward for his atrocious behavior, not anything that would be read by anyone else or be useful in any way, but just to…to get some of the worst bits of him out so he wasn’t absolutely abominable when the others wanted him again. Yes, today he could…write.

  ‘Writing,’ what an interesting word for being willing to sit and bleed for others to see.

  Roman’s words don’t so much as pour out of him as much as he sets his fingers on his keys and then can’t control his typing. He just—it hurt and he knows that no one else would want to hear about his hurt so he pours them out into the blank spaces in the white page and tries to imagine that maybe, maybe, someone would read them and see how badly it hurt and pull him close and tell him that everything would be okay.

  If maybe, if he wrote a story good enough, if he made it hurt enough, someone would care.

  He sits there and pours into the blank document until it’s panting and weary from the torrent of words, until his hands ache and the tips of his fingers are worn warm and raw from the click-click-click of the keys. Until the hurt he feels gathers up into a small, dark well just under his tongue, right in the bottom of his jaw, itching and screaming to get out. It leaks out down his arms, making the inside of his wrists tingle as he types.

  No one will read this, no one will see it. These words won’t see the light of day anytime soon.

  And Roman’s tongue is still made of lead.

  He takes his words and lets them tumble clumsily out of his hands, trying in vain to scoop them up and shove them out of his mouth instead but his tongue won’t cooperate. He knows he can’t talk, that he can’t force it, that trying to make it happen will only lead to more pain.

  But he wants to try.

  When his words aren’t back by the next day, he swallows what’s left of his pride, which isn’t much, and goes out to face the others.

  He finds Patton first. Patton doesn’t acknowledge him, so he sits politely down on the couch with a notebook and waits, trying to see if his words will come out through the pen instead of his tongue. But Patton doesn’t talk to him unless he’s asking if Roman wants a drink and well, Roman doesn’t—doesn’t need words for that.

  Patton looks so disappointed in him.

  He wants to try. He wants to open his mouth and tell Patton he’s sorry. Sorry for everything. He wants to. He wants to.

  He opens his mouth and his tongue deflates, useless, just enough for him to sigh and hunch his shoulders in defeat.

  He doesn’t want to disappoint Patton, he wasn’t trying to disappoint Patton, he wants to apologize and be better, but he can’t.

  Perhaps that is the true disappointment.

  Logan is next to appear because Logan is Logan and Roman loves him and Logan always gets his cup of coffee in the morning before breakfast. He walks down the stairs and also does not look at Roman which is fine because that is what Roman deserves but he wants to try.

  He opens his mouth to call out to Logan or Patton but his tongue is so heavy and he can’t. He can’t speak. He should be able to speak, he should be able to say something to Logan, he should be able to tell him how sorry he is but he can’t and he’s useless.

  His pen stands frozen on the notebook pages, leaving a big, dark, useless well of ink.

  Logan sits down on the couch with a book and his coffee. He doesn’t look up at Roman. Roman stares at him, pleading, hoping that Logan will look up and meet his gaze, and maybe, just maybe, he can see how sorry Roman is and it will—something will be better.

  “Don’t stare at me, Roman, it’s rude.”

  Roman’s cheeks burn as he looks away. Logan didn’t move his eyes from the book once.

  He picks up the pen and watches it drip onto the page. The pages are wet, now, so much so that when he tries to pull them apart they stick together, the lines threatening to tear as he tries to separate them.

  He leaves them be.

  The next few hours are spent in a loop of trying to open his mouth to say something and only a soft rush of air escaping. He tries to hold it behind his hand and say please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so awful, I’ll be better, I promise, but the words won’t come. His tongue is taunting him, he decides, by pressing insistently up against the back of his teeth until he has to open his mouth only for it to refuse to produce words.

  He wants Logan to explain to him that talking works for him too. That the vocal chords and the muscles of the throat moving together build up pressure behind the larynx, which then chops up the stream of air to produce a steady oscillation for a sustained sound. He wants Logan to say it in that voice of his that makes it so everything makes sense so of course, Roman, you can speak, it’s okay. Everything is okay.

  But Logan would never say that, not to Roman, because Roman’s words aren’t worth Logan’s time.

  When Virgil comes downstairs, he tries. He really tries. He opens his mouth and everything and takes a deep breath and—

  Virgil marches straight over to Logan and sits down, his head on Logan’s shoulder and the two of them could not be paying any less attention to Roman.

  The wind gets knocked out of him. His mouth falters closed. He tries to open it away but his jaws are stiff and gummy, his teeth aching in his mouth as he tries to just talk. He just wants to say something, he just wants to apologize, he just waits to be sorry and have them all know he’s sorry, he’s so sorry, but they won’t know because he doesn’t have words.

  The words he wants to say are queuing up at the back of his throat, weighing his mouth down and he wants to say them, but he—he—he can’t. He wants to tell Virgil that he’s sorry he’s been the worst friend ever, that he’s sorry he’s so awful to their famILY, that he’ll go away and leave them all alone if that’s what they want but he can’t say a damn word of it out loud and he’s going to cry.

  But he can’t because crying isn’t words and the only thing the others want from him is words.

  If Virgil notices him trying, which he probably doesn’t, he’s kind enough not to say anything.

  Roman is terrified when Remus comes.

  Because Remus is loud and loves nothing more than to make Roman’s life harder. If Remus knew he was nonverbal right now, his best bet would be to leave as quickly as possible because he—

  Wait, no.

  If Roman wanted it to be best for him, he would leave as fast as possible. But Roman doesn’t know anything anymore so he doesn’t move.

  Remus, as it turns out, doesn’t care about Roman—which, why would he?—and instead flops proudly onto the floor and begins to talk animatedly with Logan about something.

  Roman wants to say sorry. Sorry that he’s never done anything right when it comes to Remus, sorry that he thinks being compared to him is the worst thing possible, sorry that he’s Roman and Remus is stuck with him.

  But his tongue is lifeless.

  So he is quiet, flipping aimlessly through his notebook, looking for something to give his words back.

  Was he selfish yesterday? Did he use all of them up on something no one would ever see? No, no, that’s not how it works, he just—he knows he should be able to talk, maybe if he just waits a little longer, his words will come back.

  But then Janus appears.

  And Roman needs to be able to talk now.

  Because he needs to tell Janus that he’s sorry. That he messed everything up and he’s awful and he knows it and he’s so, so, so sorry. And he needs to know that it isn’t a lie, that Roman is genuinely sorry and he just needs to speak, if he could just open his mouth and say something and say that he’s sorry and—and—

  Janus stops and looks right at him.

  Roman’s breath catches in his throat.

  Janus’s eyes narrow.

  Please, please, I’m sorry, let me say I’m sorry, I can’t speak, I want to speak, let me speak—

  Janus’s face cools into stone and he deliberately turns away.

  Roman wants to scream.

  He scrambles away from the living room and his hands fly to his hair, squeezing, pulling, trying to rip the sound from his throat because it won’t come otherwise. Trying to reach deep inside and find something, some word, some sound, some thing just to make it so he can talk, say he’s sorry, say anything.

  The computer screen blinks mockingly at him. Come on, it taunts, where was this agony when you were pouring your words out onto me yesterday? Why do you ache so badly now when you know you can’t do anything about it? Is it worth it?

  Nothing will ever be worth this. To have them there, right in front of him, and not be able to tell them how sorry he is.

  A silent scream is the best he can do.

  It doesn’t stop. His tongue doesn’t flicker back to life. Even after two days, three days, four, he still can’t manage to speak. He can’t manage to open his mouth and make a single word come out. He tries. He sits down in front of the computer and glares at the screen, forcing his mouth to make the shapes and forcing his vocal chords to make the sounds.

  He never gets further than a single word.

  He rushes, slurs, cheats in any way he can, and doesn’t even manage to get to the end of a sentence.

  He’s panting, in tears, trying, trying, trying so hard to say something, anything, because if he can say one thing, he can say more, and if he can say more, he can tell them how sorry he is.

  Roman would gladly give up all the words he doesn’t have to be able to say ‘sorry’ again.

  (Logan, downstairs, glances up from his book.

  Virgil is sprawled next to him on the couch, his head resting against Logan’s thigh. Patton is sitting on the other end, Virgil’s legs in his lap as he talks to Janus. Janus sits in the chair, his own book forgotten on his lap. Well, almost forgotten as he tugs it out of Remus’s grasp as he makes…something on the floor.

  “It’s been quiet recently,” he remarks to himself, “almost…peaceful.”

  Virgil shifts. “Yeah, I know. I kinda like it.”

  “So do I.” He glances down and, after a moment of hesitation, slides his hand into Virgil’s hair. “Is this alright?”

  “Yeah, L, that’s fine.”

  “Aww, you two are cute.” Patton grins at them. “It’s been nice lately, hasn’t it?”

  “Mm.” Janus tugs the book out of Remus’s reach again. “Remus, I certainly understand what you want with my book.”

  “Art, Janny.”

  Janus rolls his eyes fondly but his gaze softens as he takes in the room. It has been quiet. A good kind of quiet.

  He doesn’t know it didn’t happen on purpose.

  That Roman isn’t being quiet on purpose.

  He didn’t do it on purpose.

  Because when has anything Roman’s done on purpose been right?)

——————————————

Thomas sighs, his hands on his hips, as Patton and Logan begin to bicker for the third time in the past ten minutes. Across from him, Virgil is fidgeting uncomfortably as his gaze flicks back and forth between Janus and Thomas.

  “Guys, are you really not going to do anything about this?”

  “Oh, yes, because that’s how we solve every problem, just make me deal with it.”

  “Okay, first of all, I said you guys meaning you and Thomas, second—“

  “Oh, here we go, another lecture, oh goodie.”

  “That is not what I’m doing—“

  And now Virgil and Janus are fighting too. Thomas resists the urge to bury his face in his hands. Barely. Just barely. He shakes his head. The Sides aren’t normally this hard to manage, typically it’s just a matter of everyone actually understanding what’s going on and then one of them will propose a solution and they’ll all wrangle it around from angle to angle until he finally gets a workable one.

  Not this time.

  He’s not sure why nothing’s working, but everything that’s been proposed just sounds like another problem, not a solution. Why coming up with ideas is so hard today, he doesn’t—

  Wait.

  Has…has Roman said anything today?

  Thomas glances at Roman. Roman stands where he always does, watching the others with a strangely blank look on his face. Thomas frowns. Roman…Roman doesn’t look great. He looks paler than usual, his face is a little poofy.

  “Roman?”

  Roman looks at him, his brow quirked.

  “Do you…have any ideas?”

  Roman’s face falls and he swallows. Thomas’s frown deepens when Roman shakes his head sadly.

  “Hey, wait,” Virgil says, turning to face him, “Thomas is right. You haven’t said anything all meeting.”

  “You have been remarkably quiet. Especially for you.” Logan adjusts his glasses. “Have you not come up with a single idea?”

  “Okay, guys, wait—“ Thomas tries.

  “No wonder we aren’t making any progress,” Virgil cries, throwing up his hands, “it’s because the guy whose job it is to come up with ideas isn’t doing anything!”

  “That…would explain it.”

  “Come on, kiddo,” Patton says, looking at Roman, “you must have something.”

  Roman just shakes his head again.

  “Of course he doesn’t want to share it with us,” Virgil growls, “he’s probably waiting for us to figure it out for him because he’s still mad.”

  Patton sighs, shaking his head and putting his hands on his hips. Even Thomas wants to flush from the disappointment in his voice. “I understand being mad at us, kiddo—I’m not happy about it, but I understand it—but taking it out on Thomas? That’s really selfish of you.”

  Roman flinches, his hand going to his chest. Janus rolls his eyes.

  “Oh, Roman doesn’t know what that word means, remember? He’s all about selflessness, not selfishness, no, not a single selfish bone in his body, Roman.”

  Virgil snorts.

  “I am also disappointed,” Logan sighs, “but not surprised. But seriously, Roman, I think this temper tantrum of yours has gone on long enough.”

  “Watch out, he’s gonna say it’s not a temper tantrum.”

  Is…is this how they are to Roman all the time? Thomas stares at the other Sides in confusion. Has he just never noticed how mean they are to each other before? Or is this…new? He looks back at Roman and opens his mouth to say something when he notices Roman’s hand is still on his chest.

  And…moving.

  His thumb is tucked against the top of his fist and Thomas watches as it circles once, twice, and stops. Once, twice, and stops.

  “Roman,” he says softly, cutting through the growing voices of the others, “Roman, why are you sorry?”

  “What?”

  “Thomas, what’re you—“

  “That—this—“ Thomas makes the sign himself—“that’s the ASL for ‘sorry.’ Remember?”

  Logan looks back at Roman who does it again. “So it is. But—Roman, why are you communicating using ASL, which none of us are fluent in? Most of us aren’t fluent in, my apologies, Janus—“ Janus waves him off— “why not just say that you’re sorry?”

  “Roman,” Thomas asks, still quiet, “can you speak?”

  They all watch in silence as Roman slowly shakes his head.

  “What do you mean you can’t speak?”

  “Probably just that, Virgil.” Logan adjusts his glasses.

  Thomas spares him a glance before refocusing on Roman. “Are you okay, buddy?”

  Roman looks at the ground. Virgil watches him for a moment before leaning to Logan.

  “I’m gonna guess that’s a ‘no.’”

  “How long has this been happening?”

  “Yes or no questions, guys,” Thomas reminds, “and…not too many.”

  “Right.” Logan takes a breath and when he speaks again, Thomas furrows his brow at how much softer Logan sounds. “Roman, has this been happening since the beginning of the meeting?”

  Roman nods.

  “Has it been happening for longer?”

  Another nod.

  “How long,” Virgil asks warily, only for Logan to hiss ‘yes or no’ in his ear, “right, um…has it been happening for longer than a day?”

  Roman nods, studiously avoiding eye contact. Janus bites back a curse.

  “Roman, have you not been able to speak since the wedding?”

  When Roman nods again, Thomas has to bite back a curse of his own. Virgil doesn’t.

  “Fuck, Princey, why didn’t you tell one of us?”

  “With what words,” Janus spits, “and who’s to say we would’ve believed him?”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Patton murmurs, reaching for him, “I’m so sorry.”

  At this, Roman shakes his head furiously.

  “Hey, hey, easy, Princey, it’s okay, what was that for?”

  “He seemed to really dislike the idea of Patton apologizing…”

  “What were you apologizing for, Roman,” Thomas asks instead, “before we—before?”

  Roman nods.

  “Yeah, bud, you were apologizing, do you remember what for?”

  A nod.

  “He’s saying ‘yes,’” Virgil murmurs.

  “Yeah, we got that.”

  “No, I mean—“ Virgil sighs— “you asked him what he was apologizing for and he’s saying ‘yes.’ That means anything you could ask him if he’s apologizing for, he’d say yes.”

  “So…” Logan looks back and forth between them. “He’s apologizing for…everything?”

  “Yeah.”

  And Roman nods.

“Oh, sweetie,” Janus says softly and whoa, that’s…unexpected, “you don’t need to do that.”

  Roman’s mouth hardens stubbornly as if to say yes I do.

  “You can’t be blamed for not being able to speak, Roman,” Logan says gently, “it’s not your fault.”

  “Kiddo,” Patton calls when Roman still looks unsure, “are you mad at us?”

  Roman’s head snaps up and he shakes his head frantically. Patton holds out his arms to soothe him.

  “And we’re not mad at you, sweetheart, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

  “Let’s call it here,” Thomas says, giving Roman a nod, “we can figure this out later.”

  “What do you need, Roman,” Virgil asks, “how can we help?”

  “That’s…definitely not a yes or no question.”

  Thomas frowns. Then he reaches out a hand.

  “Hey!” Remus pops up, manic grin and all. “What’s shakin’, bacon?”

  “I do not think bacon shakes, Remus.”

  “Sir Francis Bacon?”

  “What?”

  “You two gotta stop watching Phineas and Ferb,” Virgil mutters.

  Remus just grins and turns, freezing when he sees Roman. Thomas blinks and Remus’s entire demeanor changes.

  “Ro-Bro? Roro, you okay?”

  Roman looks up at him. Remus lays a hand on his shoulder.

  “You nonverbal?”

  Roman nods. Remus wraps his arms around Roman’s waist.

  “I’m taking this,” he announces, “bye!”

  Thomas chuckles as Remus sinks out, Roman in tow, even as Patton and Virgil rush after them going ‘let us help!’ Logan just rolls his eyes fondly and follows them. Thomas catches hold of Janus’s cloak before he can leave too.

  “Are you guys always like that to Roman?”

  Janus gives him a strange look. “You mean are you always like that to Roman?”

  “What?”

  “We’re you, Thomas,” Janus says bluntly, “we’re the physical manifestation of what goes on in your head. Or have you forgotten that your main way of problem-solving is to summon metaphysical color-coded versions of yourself and talk to them?”

  “Your point?”

  “The way we act is how you see us. We behave how our respective parts of you behave.” Janus gives him a look. “If you think we’re being mean to Roman, what does that say about how you feel about your Ego or your Creativity?”

  Oh.

  Oh.

  Oh, no.

  “Take better care of yourself,” Janus says, softer now, “and it might surprise you.”

  “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “I think,” Janus says, looking far too smug as he pulls away, “you mean that you can’t help yourself.”

  Thomas scoffs as Janus disappears but after a few seconds, his words start to make sense. He turns to grab his laptop and opens it, finding a blank document and watching the cursor blink.

  The others might not be able to listen to Roman, but he always can.

  “Alright,” he mutters to himself, “let’s see what Roman’s got to say.”

  General Taglist:@frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness  @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes  @iminyourfandom  @bullet-tothefeels  @full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83  @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious  @firefinch-ember  @fandomssaremysoul  @im-an-anxious-wreck  @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch  @enby-ralsei  @unicornssunflowersandstuff  @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams  @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb  @cricketanne  @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer  @i-am-overly-complicated  @annytheseal  @alias290  @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @cerulean-watermelon @puffed-up-bees @meltheromanstan

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

[korasonata]

I think this is just what my blog is now. Model streams have taken over. Sorry, not sorry. Favourite moments of Joe and Cleo paper model streams part 5! (Featuring a heavily sleep deprived Joe)

—

Cleo (talking to her cat): Ok. You have had attention. Are you— are you going to go? *pausing* This is the sort of thing I ask Joe. Umm… *laughing*

Joe: Constantly!

Cleo: *laughing* You’ve had your attention, can you go now?

Joe: Can you just not be here. *both laughing*

—

Cleo: Yeah, I have to start gluing things to other things. Badly. And, uh, realizing where I’ve messed up. Which is EVERYWHERE!

Joe: Uh oh.

Cleo (totally not fine): Its fine. It’s fine. I’m fin— how are you Joe?

—

Joe: It makes about as much sense as anything else I do? So…

Cleo: I mean yeah. I mean, I wasn’t gonna say it cause I’m not rude. But, you know.

*both laughing*

Joe: Now you’re just lying to me!

Cleo: *laughing* WOW!! Joe!! My heart is just hurting! Now.

Joe: Mhm.

Cleo: You can tell can’t you, I’m deeply— intensely wounded by that statement that you just made.

—

Joe: I was gonna say, we’re gonna have to call whatever the British version of an ambulance is.

Cleo: Um, I think— and I could be wrong here, the British equivalent of an ambulance is…an ambulance.

Joe: oh, ok that’s really good to know. Cause like, not that I’m planning on getting injured while I’m over there, but like—

Cleo: I mean, if you carry on talking that way you might.

Joe: I mean if I meet you, then there’s a chance that somethings gonna get shoved in my eye or something.

Cleo: Somethings gonna get taken off.

—

Joe: I mean, they say it’s the shotty carpenter that blames his poor tools, but I mean look at this.

—

Cleo (about her bisexual tags on twitch): Hold on, hold on, I need to explain what “visibility” means to bisexuals. Bisexuals are often— um, hidden in the community. They are often, um, not treated as either part of the gay community and the straight community doesn’t really appreciate them either. So, having visibility for bisexuals is very important. As it is for any other place. Also having those tags on your stream show that you are a safe place for those people to go. So, you know, actually labeling those things is important because it shows people that they are not alone. And not being alone? Really important. (To Joe) Sorry, am getting frustrated.

Joe: As somebody who’s been alone for the last year and a half with this stupid isolation, uh, yeah.

Cleo: Yeah! Being alone and not feeling alone is really important.

Joe: If you need to be explained at this point in the pandemic why feeling alone is not good, like I don’t know what to say.

—

Cleo (reading chat): What’s my favourite minecraft mob? Do people have favourite minecraft mobs?

Joe (very tired): Just say whichever mod’s here. Who’s got a sword *scrolling through Cleo’s chat* umm… yeah it’s AnnaBomBanana. Is everyone’s favourite minecraft mod.

Cleo: …moB.

Joe: …MOB! OH!

Cleo: *continuous laughing*

—

Joe: This is gonna go off of the rails further and further. There’s no— there’s no rails anymore! It’s just, somebody has scrawled “here there be dragons” on the ground.

Cleo: I mean, isn’t that pretty much how you live your life anyway?

Joe (high pitched squealing): It kind of is. *laughing continues*

Cleo: You know. Here there be dragons— Sometimes it’s not dragons. Sometimes you might be lucky.

—

Joe: So, like, one thing you can do is after this project you can build tiny dollhouses. And create like a bedroom for each of your tools. And so the knife can just be in the knife room. In the dollhouse. And it can have a knife day.

SILENCE

Cleo: Umm…I’m gonna pretend like what you said made sense.

—

Cleo: I could have said something really nasty then, but I’m not going to. See? I’m growing as a person Joe.

—

Joe: You know what? Hold on, we’re gonna— we’re gonna— at the point where NJ is concerned about my caffeine intake, I’m gonna go get a red bull and I’m gonna take my headphones off before anybody can tell me otherwise, byeeeeeeeeeeee!!!! Be right back!!!! *leaves*

Cleo (calling after him): Well done Joe! I believe in you! *narrating* She did not in fact believe in Joe, and was very concerned.

—

Cleo: I know when there’s a bad idea. It’s when Joe has made it. Joe has suggested it, that’s— that’s when you know it’s bad.

—

Joe: I know that there are ways to have computers automatically send invites, but that’s a good way, like, I know there’s a saying like, to error is human, but to screw up like a hundred thousand things all at once—

Cleo: That’s the Joe Hills Difference.

—

Cleo: Ugh, I feel like poop today.

Joe (genuine): I’m sorry.

Cleo (tiredly): No, that’s ok…(groggy) I’ll torment you…later…it’ll make me feel better…

Joe (equally as tired): Yay!

—

Joe (about Cleo and Xisuma): But Cleo, you’re the responsible adult in this scenario, so yeah you probably should have some answers.

Cleo: X is almost as old as I am.

SILENCE

Joe: …it’s a maturity gap?

Cleo: *laughing* Is that why I’m here with you?

Joe: …no.

Cleo: *laughing*

Joe: I say very confidently.

—

Joe (teacher voice): Quantum mechanics is a fundamental theory in physics that provides a description of the physical properties of nature at the scale of atoms and subatomic particles—

Cleo: *flipping him off*

Joe (blissfully unaware): Now classical physics! The collection of theories that existed before the advent of quantum mechanics—

Cleo: *trying to ignore him*

Joe (carrying on): Quantum mechanics differs from classical physics in that energy, momentum, angular momentum, and other quantities of a bound system are restricted to discreet values—

Cleo: *fingers drumming impatiently*

Joe (still going): Now! Quantum mechanics arose gradually from theories to explain observations which could not be reconciled with classical physics—

Cleo: *physically going through all 5 stages of grief*

Joe: (insert continuously long string of rambling science here)

Cleo: *mutes Joe*

—

Cleo (responding to her partner in chat): You have the movie poster for Dora the Explorer? Cam, I’m suddenly questioning our relationship now.

Joe: Uh oh.

Cleo: *laughing*

Joe: Yeah, I knew I was gonna get blamed for that eventually.

—

Cleo (frustrated): I’m gonna kill someone. And since the person who made and designed this castle isn’t here…(trailing off) Hi Joe.

Joe (accepted his fate): Hello.

—

Joe: Have you ever officiated a wedding?

Cleo: No I haven’t. Why, do you want me to?

—

Joe: Oh! Oh! I found my cross stitch the other day!

Cleo: Oh cool!

Joe: *rummaging in the background* Yeah, so, I don’t know if you’ve seen this before—

Cleo (excitedly): ShowMeShowMeShowMeShowMe!!!

—

Joe (reading chat): Am I excited for Minecraft Live? Umm…

SILENCE

Joe: You know, so much of life is minecraft, but you know, maybe this is just a step too far. You know? Um, I think Mojang asked if they could and never stopped to ask if they should. Um, you know, I think their decision in particular to clone dinosaurs at the event as part of their Jurrassic Park, uh, map thing that they put out— which, also, it’s not even like the Jurrassic Park movies are really for kids, but here’s— here’s Minecraft with Jurrassic Park in it, and also we’re gonna clone a bunch of dinosaurs for this livestream, it’s like *groaning*. I dunno. I’m dubious. I think it’s gonna backfire. Ya know, there’s like 4 cautionary films about why you don’t clone dinosaurs. And they’re just jumping in feet first. So…but, you know, I’d like to be wrong about this. Maybe it’ll go great.

Cleo: …are you having a moment Joe?

—

Cleo (reading chat): “when the arts and crafts streams become Cleo with a scream mask” I am not X. I am not X, I promise you I’m not X. I just don’t have a face.

Joe: Heh

Cleo: And if I was— hang on I’ll be back in a second.

Joe: …wait, did you just realize that you do have a scream mask?

Cleo: No, I have a better mask. *leaves*

SILENCE

Joe: *watching Cleo’s stream intensely*

—

Cleo: Are we seriously doing guillotine jokes right now? I’m not saying I disapprove, but

Joe: yeah, we say “Giatine”

Cleo: That’s ok, you can be wrong.

Joe: …It’s a french word.

Cleo: And? You’re allowed to be wrong.

Joe: …*deep sigh*

—

Joe: It’s funny too. Because people will tell me that I don’t seem like a very— like, mostly my coworkers. Like, would tell me that I didn’t seem like a particularly emotional person.

Cleo: *bursts out laughing*

—

Joe: Yeah, I feel like I didn’t make a lot of��visible progress today…but…it’s fine…

Cleo: I made progress for both of us Joe.

Joe (tiredly): Thank you Cleo… (resting head against the ring light)

SILENCE

Cleo (tenderly): …You’re welcome.

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime — Fourteen // Wanda Maximoff

chapter thirteen | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | epilogue

author’s note: the last chapter is finally here! i hope you like it 😊

There were many times when I'd get distracted by thoughts of Wanda.

I could be going for a walk and remember that time she tripped over the flat pavement, almost bringing me down with her. I could be shopping for stationary and remember that time she almost bought the whole shop in one visit. I could be sitting by the water fountain and remember that time she tried to make a wish, only to drop her whole purse in it.

This time, I'd just woken up to the sun streaming through my curtains. I rolled over to an empty bed, hand brushing against the cold sheets as they expected more. For some reason, my subconscious decided to taunt me with a memory taking place just after we'd first made love in her room...

"I love you so much," Wanda told me with an enchanting smile.

I turned to face her, one arm comfortable under the pillow as the other rested outside the duvet, covering my bare chest. She raised her hand, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear before resting her hand there. I smiled at the contact and felt a warmth spreading all over me at the affectionate gaze she sent my way.

"I know, love, you only said it several times," I teased lightly, making her chuckle. "I love you, too, though, in case you didn't know."

She sighed contently, eyes closing. I admired how beautiful she looked with her hair sprawled over her bare shoulders, smile on her lips and freckles dusting her skin. Her touch still ghosted my body, taste still embedded between my lips, scent still wavering in my nose. She was permanent and I was certain she'd never leave.

"We should probably get up in case somebody comes to check on us," she said, interrupting my moment of admiration.

Her eyes flickered open slowly, blue with golden flecks glistening right back at me. Suddenly, anything that happened after this didn't matter to me. For once, I appreciated where we were, what we had and nothing more or less. No wedding, no future... just now.

"We should," I agreed regretfully, though her leg moved closer to mine and made me wish we could stay here longer. "I wish we didn't have to."

She smiled halfheartedly, hand moving down my cheek, caressing the skin, before they rested at my chin. She outlined my lips with her thumb before leaning forward and stealing a kiss.

"Can't we have a few more minutes?" she asked, lips brushing mine as she spoke.

She was making it very hard to deny her and judging from the playful smirk on her lips, she knew that.

"I guess we can," I agreed quietly, making her smile with satisfaction.

She rolled on top of me, capturing my lips in a kiss as her bare chest pressed to mine and my hand found her waist for support. As usual, the effect she had on me was indescribable and I couldn't imagine us ever leaving the bed. I knew for sure that I'd never been happier than I was in that moment.

It was such a perfect moment, but it haunted me. Nothing felt right without her. She'd overwhelmed all of my senses and remained, even when I didn't have her by me in person. The wedding was literally in a few weeks, but I hadn't managed to get over her.

How could I be her maid of honour when I could barely speak to her? Not without wanting to curl in a ball and cry afterwards. Every thing I did seemed to be filled with memories of her. She was inescapable.

A groan left my lips as I dragged my hand down my face with frustration. I couldn't let her get to me yet again. I had an interview with the local paper today. The last thing I needed was Wanda as a distraction.

So, with that lovely thought lingering in my mind, I dragged myself out of bed to get ready for the day ahead.

—

Press interviews weren't something I was used to.

Whenever Y/B/N had them with journalists for his books, I wasn't present. The only thing I heard was when he came back and told me how it went, then I proceeded to read about it in the paper the next day.

I was sat in Steve's office at Maximoff Publishing with Steve sat by my side, sending me a supportive smile. A journalist from the local paper sat before us, notebook and pen in hand as he watched on with curious eyes.

"So, Y/N," he began. "I'll start with the obvious, if you don't mind."

I glanced at Steve who nodded encouragingly. Clearing my throat, I looked to the journalist. "Sure thing."

He smiled and glanced at his notebook before asking, "How does it feel to be published? You're Pietro Maximoff's first female author."

"An author who happens to be female," I corrected, hoping I didn't come off as rude. "And that isn't something that should be new, in my opinion. It should be normalised."

He nodded, noting it down in his notebook. "Controversy... I like it."

Swallowing hard, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"I think the readers would like to know how you managed to score a publisher," he began his next question. "How exactly did you get noticed amongst the many authors that look to be published?"

Okay, not so difficult, I could answer that.

"Well, it was actually my–" I paused, Wanda's face flashing to mind. Okay, maybe a little difficult.

"Your...?" the journalist prompted.

I blinked, attempting to find my words.

"Wanda," Steve answered, starting me off.

I looked to him with grateful eyes before looking back to the journalist. "Right. Yes. Wanda."

"Your brother's fiancé, right?" the journalist asked for clarification.

"Yes," I answered, with an accidental clipped tone. "She... she was the one who gave my work to her brother. Asked him to look at it. And the rest is history."

The journalist was making notes as I spoke, nodding and humming in response, before looking to me with raised brows.

"So, the wedding," he said, making me wince subtly. "Are you excited?"

Forcing a smile, I said, "Ecstatic."

"How does it feel to have your two families uniting?" he asked, and I chewed on my lips, unsure how to respond.

"I– er–"

"Are you afraid that Y/B/N marrying Wanda may put him in Pietro's good graces?" he interrupted eagerly, leaning forward in his seat.

I opened my mouth to answer, but I didn't know what to say that wouldn't land me in hot water or make me look like a jealous sibling. Glancing to Steve questioningly, he thankfully noticed my speechlessness and gave the journalist a warning stare.

"Can you stay on topic, please?" he asked the keen journalist. "Y/N is here to talk about her book and nothing more."

"Okay, okay," the journalist gave in, making me exhale slowly. "What's next in store for your readers, Y/N? A sequel, perhaps?"

"I'm not sure," I answered truthfully. "I'm still in awe at the reception from the first one."

He nodded, note taking as he listened. "How many books do you think you'll get out of your career before getting married like your brother?"

I raised my eyebrows with disbelief. But I didn't get to answer as he was already moving onto his next question.

"Are you not worried about getting married? You know, men don't like smart women."

Narrowing my eyes at him, I clenched my fists by my side and was very close to strangling him before we were interrupted. A servant whom I recognised from home knocked on the door and earned everyone's attention.

"Oh, tell him to go away," the journalist said dismissively, waving his hand.

Steve looked to me and I plastered a bitter smile on my lips as I glanced at the journalist.

"I'd let him in if I were you," I told Steve, and he seemed to understand that I was about to pummel the journalist if I wasn't distracted, because he nodded and motioned for the servant to enter.

The journalist sighed rudely and I clenched my jaw before looking to the servant with a quirked brow. He looked out of breath, panting for air and face flushed red.

"Did you run here?" I realised, cocking my head to the side with confusion.

He nodded, straightening up and attempting to catch his breath. "Yes, Miss Y/L/N. Very sorry to interrupt, but your mother insisted I hurry."

My eyes widened. "Oh, God, what happened? Is she okay?"

"Kind of," he answered, before clarifying, "The wedding between your brother and Miss Maximoff has been cancelled."

"What?!" everyone in the room asked at the same time.

What did he mean the wedding had been cancelled?! Wanda and Y/B/N weren't going to get married?

"I don't know the details," the servant got out quickly. "I just know that your mother sent me to fetch you as soon as possible. She's distraught and requires you home immediately."

I nodded instantly, already making a move to stand up, then I remembered where I was.

"You mustn't publish anything you just heard," I told the journalist with a stern finger, but he seemed over the moon at the news.

"Go, Y/N, your mother needs you," Steve said, resting a hand on my shoulder as he, too, stood up. He side-eyed the journalist as he added, "I'll take care of this tool."

At that, the journalist's eyes widened with fear and judging from the smirk on Steve's lips, I knew things would be okay.

"Thank you," I told him, hugging him quickly, before looking to the servant. "I'll go now. Thank you."

After giving the servant some money to grab a treat and calm him from his breathless state, I got a carriage home with my mind racing a million thoughts a minute.

Why was the wedding off? My mum was distraught, according to the servant, so that could only mean it hadn't been her choice. Was it Y/B/N? Had he broken it off? Or maybe it was Wanda? But no. She'd never do that. She wouldn't hurt her family like that.

I wasn't sure what it was, but I definitely didn't know how to feel. This could either be heavily in my favour or go against me in the worst way possible...

When I arrived home, I found my family in the dining room. My mum was sat down, upset and shaking her head in her hands, tear marks on her face. My dad was sat beside her, rubbing her back soothingly and whispering calming things to her as my brother stood to the side, looking apologetic and uncomfortable.

"It's okay, mum, it'll be okay," he was saying to her from across the table. "It's not a big deal. I can find somebody–"

"Hello...," I began awkwardly, standing in the doorway and hesitant to move forward. "I just got the news from our servant. What happened?"

"Oh, Y/N, you shouldn't have–" my father began regretfully, before my mum slammed her hand on the table and glared at my brother.

"Y/B/N broke off the engagement!" she shouted with frustration.

"There you go...," my dad mumbled before returning his attention to his wife.

"Mum, I–"

"You did what?!" I cut Y/B/N off with raised brows. "You broke off the engagement? You dumped Wanda?"

He looked to me with sad eyes. "Y/N–"

"You idiot!" I shouted, feeling angry as I imagined the effect this must have had on the Maximoff family. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Why would you–?!"

He grabbed my waving arm and dragged me out of the dining room, making me shove him off when we reached the hall.

"Why the hell did you break it off?!" I yelled at him with a glare. "Why would you–"

"I didn't!" he whisper-shouted back, looking down at me with a downcast expression. "She did!"

My anger faded as I realised he was telling the truth. He looked genuinely hurt, eyes glassy and a frown on his lips. Wanda was the one to break it off? What?

"She broke it off with me," he elaborated quietly, so our parents couldn't hear. "She told me this morning. She said she didn't love me and that she couldn't marry me."

I swallowed hard, looking away from him momentarily. "Why did you tell mum and dad that it was you who broke up with her?"

He pinched his forehead with agitation. "Because it looks a lot less foolish if I say it was me rather than her. She doesn't love me, Y/N. She never did."

I risked looking at him, seeing his disheartened expression. Part of me felt guilty because I knew it was my fault this had happened, but I couldn't exactly say that to him, so I stayed quiet. He shook his head once more before walking away, leaving me standing there with shock.

"Er, Miss Y/L/N?"

I spun around when one of our servants approached me.

"I know now isn't the best time," she began, "but a letter came for you earlier. I left it on your desk as you were at work."

Nodding, I offered the servant a halfhearted smile before watching her leave. There was so much to unpack right now...

I headed upstairs and to my room to see what letter was here for me. But I was finding it hard to focus since all that was on my mind was the broken engagement and Y/B/N and Wanda... I needed to see her. What the hell was I doing here?

Planning on going to see Wanda as soon as possible, I grabbed the letter from my desk with the intention of reading it on the way out, but then I recognised the handwriting on the front and paused at my desk.

It was Wanda's handwriting.

I hurried to tear open the envelope, wondering what she had to say. It was no doubt related to the broken engagement.

Dearest Y/N,

I hope that you manage to read this letter before you hear the news, but knowing our families, you'll read it afterwards. In which case, you will know that I have broken off the engagement with Y/B/N.

It was the right thing to do. I chose to do it and I'm sorry if it's caused tension between your brother and your family, but I knew that I couldn't go forward with it when I'm in love with you. I'm not expecting you to come back to me and run away together all dramatically – this isn't about that.

I did this for myself. I'm not in love with your brother and I never was. He should have known that. He had to. Because if not, I'm afraid I broke his heart. And that's the last thing I wanted.

I also did this for you. I need you to know that I'm not heartless or horrible and I didn't expect you to sacrifice anything for me. Cheating on your brother with you... I never meant for this to happen, nor did I mean to get in the way of you both. Falling in love with you was completely accidental, but I don't regret it.

I don't want to go on too much, but I just needed you to know the truth, from me, that I am truly sorry for causing you such pain. I'm still in love with you and I'll never forget what we had. In another lifetime, maybe we could have worked. I'm certain that you were always perfect for me, as was what we had. You are magic, Y/N. I just wasn't powerful enough to keep you.

When I finished reading, I flipped the page over, expecting to find more, but it was blank. She'd ended it there and I didn't know what to think. My heart was racing, mind adjusting too slowly for my liking. She'd broke it off with him for me. I knew she loved me, but I guess I'd never realised just how much.

After recovering from my shock, I put the letter away and left for Wanda's, not bothering to tell my family where I was going. My dad was attempting to console my disappointed mother as Y/B/N moped around somewhere else, so I took that as my chance to nip out without them noticing.

I was trying to plan what to say to her – I didn't even know what I wanted to say to her. She said she didn't expect me to get back with her, and even without Y/B/N and their engagement in the way, we still couldn't be together. Not like how we wanted to be. But I wanted to. I wanted her. All this time without her had been heartbreaking – I didn't want to leave her again. I didn't know the specifics of how we would work, but we could work. We had to.

When I reached her house, it was her mother who opened the door. And that's when I realised that I wasn't sure if she blamed Y/B/N or her daughter for the engagement breaking apart.

"Iryna, hi," I greeted with a nervous smile. "I'm sorry if this is a bad time–"

"Y/N, I'm glad you're here," she cut me off, immediately pulling me in for a hug. "Thank you for coming."

I nodded with mild confusion, returning the hug, before pulling away.

"I'm so sorry for the pain Wanda has caused to your family," she said regretfully. "I hope that your parents aren't as distraught as we are."

I eyed her strangely, still not sure what Wanda had told her. Either way, I didn't bother questioning it as my urgency to see Wanda was overpowering my curiosity.

"It's okay, Iryna, there's no need to apologise," I reassured her. "My family will be okay... I just thought I'd come and check in on Wanda. It's a lot, what happened."

She nodded sympathetically. "Thank you, sweetheart. You're such a good friend to her." She stood to the side to let me in. "Go on up. She's in her room. Hasn't come out since this morning."

I offered a small, awkward smile Iryna's way before letting myself in and going upstairs to Wanda's room. My palms were sweaty and my mouth was dry – stupidly juxtaposed – when I stopped before Wanda's door. On the way over here, I still hadn't decided what to say. I figured it would just come to me when I saw her. One could hope.

Knocking on the door, I heard her sweet, accented voice give me permission to enter. My stomach flipped at the sound and I did as she said. Closing the door behind me, I turned and saw Wanda sat at a stool before a canvas.

Noticing I didn't say anything, she glanced over her shoulder casually, probably expecting a family member. She widened her eyes when she realised it was me and immediately stood up, smoothing out her paint-covered smock in an attempt to look neater. The simple action warmed my heart – she was adorable and I couldn't help but smile.

"Hi," I said quietly.

She cleared her throat, eyes darting around nervously. "Hey. I didn't– what are– hi."

I let my eyes wander, admiring her messy ponytail and the strokes of paint on her face that she definitely wasn't aware of. She was stunning, even with her confused eyes and pursed lips. Better yet, her hand was ring-free and I was reminded of the fact that she wasn't engaged anymore.

"I assume you're here because you read the letter," she began apologetically, but I didn't let her finish because the longer I was in her presence, the more I realised I wanted to kiss her.

Approaching her, I found her eyes before pressing my lips to hers. My hands cupped her cheeks as I held her close, revelling in her taste and scent and touch. She was quick to react, her fingers curling around my waist and tugging me towards her, squeezing our bodies together. Breathing became a problem and we regretfully had to pull away, but remained close enough to exchange breaths and swim in each other's eyes. I'd never been more relieved to see the colour green.

"You're not mad," she realised, looking between my eyes as if trying to search for some anger.

"How can I be mad that you broke off your engagement for me, knowing we can never be together in the way that you deserve?" I asked with disbelief.

She smiled beautifully, making my heart flutter in my chest. "You still love me."

I stole another kiss from her lips. "I never stopped, Wanda. Of course I still love you."

She rested her forehead to mine and closed her eyes peacefully. "Thank you for coming back."

I laughed, feeling tears brim my eyes. "I'm not leaving again, love. We'll find a way to make this work. I promise you that."

Wanda Maximoff deserved the world. And I was going to give it to her in this lifetime and beyond.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Meet the Mikaelsons

Enzo St. John x Mikaelson Reader

Words: 2363

Part 2 of 4: Part One

Summary: The engagement is official! You and your new fiance, Enzo, travel down to the spot of the big day; New Orleans. With wedding plans already in mind, your announcement to your family goes much better than Enzo expected. Now all he has to do is survive your brothers until the ceremony. 

Note: This might be my favorite chapter to write for the fact that I get to come up with the Mikaelsons’ reaction to the reader getting married. Especially to Enzo. Plus some Klaus drama and precious Elijah? My cup of tea, and I hope that it is yours as well! (Repost: I forgot how much I love writing Elijah and Klaus! Reading this made me so nostalgic. I know that Vampire Diaries/Originals doesn’t get read as much anymore, but I really hope there are some of you out there that love them as much as I do.)

-

Road trips with Enzo were always some of your favorite memories. Whether it was belting to the music on the radio or just riding in silence, listening to each other’s breathing move along with the hum of the engine, they always managed to bring a smile to your face, as well as his. 

But the buzz of the road died as soon as your bags hit the sidewalk outside the compound. The city sounds fell deaf on your ears, turned off by the sound of your heartbeat. The last time you were here, it was to scatter the ashes of your oldest brother Finn. Enzo had helped numb the ache that came from missing your siblings, but now, standing merely feet away from seeing them again, the feeling was almost unbearable. Excitement and worry mixed within you to the point that it was suffocating. Seeing the look on your face, Enzo gently grabbed your hand and gave you a small smile. 

“It’s alright love.” He slowly led you into the entrance. You gripped the bars of the gate and looked around inside.

“Freya?” You called into the courtyard. At first, there was just that still silence, but then the clicking of footsteps cut through the quiet. The oldest Mikaelson came into your view, curiosity spread across her features.

“Y/N?” She shrieked excitedly. With a wave of her hand, the gate opened and you were captured in your sister’s embrace. She pulled you further into the compound, but you stopped her. 

“Um, I brought a guest.” You stepped to the side, revealing the terrified vampire behind you. Enzo waved awkwardly, waiting to be invited inside. Freya watched him cautiously.

“Come in.” She said slowly. He stepped across the threshold and laced his fingers through yours again. You ignored her skeptical glances at your fiance and pulled her into your arms.

“I’ve missed you so much.” You breathed into her blonde hair. It was shorter than it was the last time you last saw her. Tears welled in your eyes, taking in every sound of the compound, filling your head with them. You were home. 

Freya stepped away from you. 

“I’ve missed you too, little sister.” She smiled brightly at you, then turned her attention to Enzo. “And who, may I ask, is this?” He started to introduce himself, but yet another voice cut him off.

“Y/N!” Rebekah sped over to you and nearly tackled you to the ground with an infamous bear hug. “You know it’s rude to visit without calling us first.” She scolded playfully. 

“I wanted it to be a surprise!” You laughed. There was a light murmur coming from upstairs. Three people in a deep conversation. “And the boys are arguing, no doubt?” She smirked.

“They won’t be once they see that you’re here.” You placed a hand on your younger sister’s face.

“When has that ever stopped them before?” You snickered. Like Freya, her eyes fell on Enzo, her head cocking to the side.

“And who might this heartbreaker be?” She asked. Enzo put on his dashing grin and bowed. 

“Lorenzo St. John. Friends call me Enzo.” He greeted. You couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your face. He was quite the charmer. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Rebekah shook his hand. Enzo tried not to wince at her incredibly strong grip. 

“I’ve heard about you, Enzo. I have some friends back in Mystic Falls, and they tell me that you’re a troublemaker.” Rebekah stepped closer to him, her expression a dare for him to retaliate and give her a reason to tear him to pieces. He chuckled.

“Yes well, from what I’ve been told, I should fit right in here.” Rebekah raised an eyebrow at his confidence. You snickered. She shrugged her shoulders as if to say ‘Fair enough’ and sat down on the sofa. Enzo whispered. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“She wasn’t the one you needed to worry about.” 

Your eyes darted upsards as your three brothers emerged from the room above you, looking down into the courtyard, their expressions menacingly serious. Your heart was beating faster than you could speed up the stairs and into Elijah’s waiting arms.

 “Elijah! How I’ve missed you.” The tears were openly streaming down your face as he held the back of your head in his hand, his other arm wrapped tightly around you. Behind him, someone coughed in annoyance. The two of you pulled away.

“No, no, continue.” Kol crossed his arms in a dramatic fashion. “It’s not like I’m her twin brother or anything…” Laughing through your tears of happiness, you ruffled Kol’s hair and hugged him as well.

“Are you ready to cause mischief for our siblings?” You challenged, your twin grinning maniacally.

“Always, dear sister.” He cheered. You turned to greet the third brother, but Klaus was still staring down into the courtyard at a semi-nervous Enzo.

“How rude of you Y/N, to not introduce us to our new guest.” Klaus turned to you, eyebrows raised and hands clasped behind his back. You placed a loving kiss on his cheek.

“I missed you too, Nik.” You leaped over the railing, landing gracefully on your feet. You wrapped your arm around Enzo. “Everyone, this is Enzo.” A deep breath filled you with confidence as you looked up at your brothers. “We are engaged.”

 At first there was a shocked silence, but to everyone’s surprise, Klaus’ laughter rang through the compound.

“No you’re not.” He grinned wildly at the two of you and poured himself a drink. 

“Yes we are, Nik.” You scoffed. He shook his head, still chuckling deeply. “What? Why is that such an impossible thought?”

“Because I know you, Y/N. You’re not exactly the type to chain yourself to one person for eternity. Especially not someone you met in dreary Mystic Falls.”

“Well I think we both know that people in Mystic Falls can be quite charming. Isn’t that right, Klaus?” You snapped. His face went red. You knew very well about his infatuation with Caroline. Elijah shifted uncomfortably, keeping his eyes solely on you. Kol jumped down to join you, throwing an arm around your shoulder. 

“This calls for celebration! Not only has the prodigal sister returned, she has brought a new member to the family. I say we all head to Rousseau's for a drink.” He proposed, but the rest of the family wasn’t as sure.

“You don’t care what is going on as long as it means a round of drinks, do you?” Rebekah snapped at her wily older brother. She turned to you, and her scowl slowly spread into a smile. “But I suppose a wedding wouldn’t be such a bad idea…” You squealed with excitement and pulled her into another bear hug. “What can I say; I’m a hopeless romantic.” You pulled away and shot Enzo a look as if to say ‘I told you’. Elijah slowly walked down the stairs, not saying a word, his expression unreadable. 

“Eli?” You stepped towards him cautiously. Of all of your siblings, you wanted his approval the most. Of course, you wanted everyone to love Enzo as much as you did, but Elijah was different. He would hide his true feelings if it meant pleasing everyone else. You just wanted him to be deeply and truly happy for you. After a moment of your stares, he finally smirked and shrugged his shoulders. He took your face in his hands and softly kissed your forehead with a small smile. 

“I’m just happy you’re home.”  

“Thank you thank you thank you!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around your big brother’s neck. He chuckled and shot Klaus a warning glance over your shoulder. He held up his hands innocently with a coy smile. 

“What do you say…” Klaus was off of the balcony and in front of him in a blink. “Enzo?” He questioned, taking a step towards the much younger vampire. Through his nerves, Enzo smiled back, flashing his teeth. 

“Drinks on me.” 

-

After a round of bourbon and whiskey, the whole family settled back to the compound for the night, with you and Enzo taking your usual room. You flopped down onto the bed, giggling like a little schoolgirl. Enzo laid down next to you, grinning at your happiness. 

“I can’t believe I’m home!” You sighed merrily. Enzo played with a strand of your hair, twirling it around his finger.

“I can definitely see that I have my work cut out for me.” He smirked. You bit your lip.

“You hate them, don’t you.” You pouted, running your fingers through your hair. “I know that they can be difficult and dramatic but-”

“I don’t hate your family.” Enzo interrupted, his deep laugh sending waves through you. “I just don’t think they like me very much.”

“They’ll learn to love you, I promise.” You pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. “I’m just worried Klaus won’t let them have the chance.” 

“So am I.” He muttered. A knock at the door alerted you both. You scrambled away from your fiancé. 

“Come in!” You shouted and the knob turned. Elijah stepped into the room and you could practically feel Enzo’s relief. Elijah sensed his nervousness as well and smirked. 

“I hope that you are feeling at home, Lorenzo. I know that we can be…difficult to adjust to.” He stood with his hands clasped in front of him, like he had some great matter to discuss. “Y/N, I was wondering if I could have a word with you before you settled in for the night.” 

“Uh, yeah.” You said, feeling slightly skeptical. Enzo shook his head frantically, worrying that this may be a plot to get him in the room alone so that Klaus could pounce. You shot him a glare before following your brother into the library down the hall. 

“I see that your fiancé isn’t quite used to Niklaus’ hospitality.” Elijah chuckled. You cringed. 

“Yeah… I think they just need a little time.” 

“I believe a few decades will do.” He noted with a smile. The two of you laughed. His expression became serious. “Y/N, I am not going to try and change your mind about marrying Lorenzo.” You opened your mouth to object, but he cut you off with a wave of his hand. “I just hope you know what you’re getting into.”

“I’ve lived for a thousand years, Eli. I think I know that marriages can be difficult.” You scoffed. Elijah sighed.

“That is not what I meant.” He watched you intensely. “You are bringing him into our family. Our enemies will become his. Lorenzo is much more vulnerable than you and I. He can be killed just as easily as any other vampire.”

“Enzo knows all of this. And he can handle himself.” You protested. “Besides, we will be there to protect him.” Elijah put a hand on your shoulder. 

“I want you to be happy, Y/N. I truly do.” He looked deeply into your eyes, trying to get his point across. “I simply don’t want to see you lose Lorenzo the way Hayley lost Jackson.” You remembered the day that Hayley called you to tell you that Jackson had been killed. You had grown close to the kind werewolf, and finding out about his death had been crushing. 

“You’re right.” You sighed, closing your eyes so you weren’t looking into your brother’s concerned stare anymore. “I hadn’t even really thought of the danger I would be putting him in....” You blew out a long frustrated breath. “Maybe this was a bad idea. I mean, what was I really thinking? That I could just force him into our family? I thought that it would fix everything but maybe I just wanted to rush into this so he couldn’t run away. Maybe I should just call everything off. Let him find someone who’s rivalries don’t extend back to the 12th century.” You ranted until you were out of breath.

He was right, of course. Your noble big brother was always right. Enzo didn’t just have Klaus to worry about, though he was certainly a big enough problem on his own. Your panic was evident and you started to pace. Elijah grabbed your arms and forced you to look at him again. 

“Y/N, do you love him?” He questioned, taking you off guard. 

“What?”

“It is a simple question, dear sister.” He laughed. “Do you love Lorenzo?” You took a deep breath.

“Of course I love him, Elijah. I asked him to marry me!” You exclaimed. “But-”

“Marry him.” He interrupted. “If there is one thing I have learned from loving Hayley, it is that we never know which day could be our last together. I wake up everyday knowing that I could lose her. But when I see her next to me, I realize that we must cherish what we have instead of living in the fear of losing it.” He placed a caring hand on your cheek. 

“Is this your way giving me your blessing?” You asked, feeling slightly confused.

“I suppose you could call it that.” He smirked and you nearly tackled him in a hug. You pulled away.

“There is one more thing I need you to do.” You bit your lip anxiously. “Make sure that Nik doesn’t make a massacre of my future husband?” 

“I’ll do my best.” Elijah snickered. “And do make sure he doesn’t do anything to aggravate Niklaus.”  

“Klaus would be more infuriated if he didn’t put up a fight.” You grinned and started out of the library door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Elijah called back. “And do keep the noise down. We do all have enhanced hearing, remember?” 

You laughed as you raced back down the hall into your room. Enzo was pacing in front of the bed, nerves clearly still on edge. When he saw you, his eyes immediately went wide. 

“What did he-” He started, but he was quickly interrupted by your ecstatic kiss, knocking him over onto the bed. He pushed you back, surprised by your sudden enthusiasm. “Y/N, what did your brother say?”

“We’re going to be married!” You squealed, coming in for another kiss. 

-

Keep Reading to: Get Me to the Church On Time

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

[the-edge-of-great]

can you do 14 with alex finding out that gay marriage is legal maybe learning about other wholesome lgbt+ progress since '95

(there’s a weird glitch or something on my feed where the ask isn’t showing, so just in case, this is for @lemonwilford)

so after finishing this, I have four tabs open for formal dresses, wedding venues, and lesbian wedding aesthetics on Pinterest AND I have an article from 1993 about gay rights (started as a reference but then it got interesting so really, it’s my fourth��article)

in other words I kinda get obsessed and distracted with researching and referencing for anything that I write, so, TL;DR enjoy :)

also juke is totally established in this cause I said so

14. “That’s legal now?”

-------

“Ready?”

“Ready!” the guys call back to Julie. They’re in the studio, patiently waiting for the surprise she wanted to show them. She was eager about something when she came home from school and told them she couldn’t practice on Saturday. They might’ve been bummed had she not been bouncing with excitement. Alex had smiled fondly at her; excited Julie was his favorite Julie.

She promised to show them what was happening Saturday before leaving, and now they’re eager themselves.

Julie throws open both studio doors with a type of dramatic flare that Alex can respect. She saunters in wearing a gorgeous golden dress with lace shoulders, a sweetheart neckline, and a hem stops just above her knee, matching heels clicking across the floor. Her hair bounces against her shoulders: big and curly and gorgeous, like always. She’s wearing red lipstick, and her eyeliner is sharp and precise; Alex thinks it’s called a cat eye. There’s so much lingo he still needs to catch up on.

He meets her halfway with a grin and offers his hand. “You look beautiful,” he says, spinning her in a circle. She twists on the toe of her heel, and her dress flares. There are sparkles in the intricate design across her chest that glisten under the studio lights. Alex catches her around the waist when she stumbles to a stop.

“Yeah,” Reggie agrees. “You look amazing.”

Alex joins Reggie as Luke approaches. They share a knowing smile.

“Where are you going looking so good?” he asks, arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her close.

Julie beams at him. “A wedding for one of my friends from music class. Her moms are getting married.”

Alex blinks. “Moms?”

Luke frowns. “You mean… two women?”

Like a switch, Julie’s bright demeanor falters. She pushes against Luke’s arms, frowning as she breaks away from him. “Yeah,” she answers, eyeing each of them carefully. “Are you guys… okay with that?”

Alex makes a noise—somewhere between a scoff and a snicker. Okay with that? Of course he is. But confused? Yes. Very.

Reggie nods, chewing on his lip. He’s trying not to smile—Alex can see the corners of his mouth twitching. “Yeah,” he says. “Of course we are, we just—”

“That’s legal now?” Alex blurts.

A second passes, but Julie’s eyes widen with realization. “Ninety-five,” she mutters to herself, nodding slowly. “Right.” Louder, she explains, “Yeah, gay marriage was legalized, like, five years ago. Actually, a lot’s changed since the 90s.”

Luke snickers. “No kidding.”

“Oh my gosh, wait until you see Pride in June! LA has the best celebrations.” She shifts her weight, smiling sheepishly. “Not that I have experienced any outside of here to compare, but, you know what I mean. It’s so much fun! Flynn and I went with Sarah and her moms last year—Sarah’s moms are the ones getting married today.”

Julie is looking at him more than she usually looks at Luke—and she catches herself every time, quickly averting her eyes back to him and Reggie—which is really saying something. She can’t possibly know though, right? He certainly didn’t tell her. He knows neither Luke nor Reggie told her. Is it really so obvious, or could she perhaps… actually be a witch? Was Reggie on to something?

Alex rolls his eyes; he must be having an off day or something to really consider Julie being a witch and Reggie to be right.

“… Or not,” Julie says, rocking on her heels and twisting the ring on her finger. She’s looking at him again, much less sure of herself than before. Reggie and Luke are staring too; Luke elbows him in the side and glares.

“What?” Alex whines, pushing him away. “What are you—Oh! Oh, I wasn’t—I didn’t—” He shakes his head at Julie. “I wasn’t rolling my eyes at you! I just… had a dumb idea… Anyway, I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“She said we could go with her,” Reggie explains. “To the wedding, if we want to.” He raises his eyebrows knowingly. How come everyone is so knowing toward him all of a sudden?

“You should,” Julie persists. “Sarah showed us pictures of the venue today at school. It looks gorgeous in the daylight—I can’t wait to see it tonight.”

Luke grins. “Of course we’ll go.” He chuckles at the guys. “I mean, what else do we have to do?”

So, that’s how they end up in the outdoors of Orange County. The guys ride in the back of Ray’s car—apparently, ghosts can ride in cars. Flynn doesn’t carpool with Julie; when the girls reunite, she explains how her mom decided last minute that Flynn’s hair would look better in a bun rather than her regular braids.

They pose for pictures from Ray and the wedding photographer. Then Sarah, Alex thinks—a teenage girl with fair skin and copper red hair in a neat plait against her shoulder—rushes over with the biggest grin on her face. The girls gush over their outfits, the night, the decorations, etc etc. They’re cute; Alex shares a fond smile with Luke and Reggie.

“This place is pretty,” Reggie admits, turning in a slow circle to take in the scenery. They’re in a forest, surrounded by towering pine trees, and there are lights everywhere. Streams of globe bulbs are strung up from tree to tree, creating an arch in the center where a long, white rug leads to a stage filled with golden flowers. The sun was already setting when they left Julie’s house, so by now, the reception is a warm glow in an otherwise dark forest.

“Alex,” Luke mutters, as if anyone could actually hear them, and nudges his elbow into Alex’s side, “look around dude. Most of these couples aren’t straight.”

He noticed when they first arrived that men mostly stayed with men and women mostly stayed with women, but now that Luke has pointed it out, Alex is noticing that the guests are actually couples. A couple to their left is discussing the food. One man feeds the other a bite of a sandwich and gloats when his partner admits it’s actually not bad. To their right, two women are posing in front of the wedding photographer. One is kissing the other’s cheek.

“I think this is the most…” Alex pauses, trying to both find the right word and take it all in because, really, this is a lot. It’s a good amount of a lot, of course, but… These people are openly showing off their partners. They’re happy. They’re proud of themselves. And the straight people aren’t saying anything rude? No one is cursing at them? Claiming they’ve damned themselves?

“Alex?” Reggie asks softly.

“I know a lot is different from, you know,” Alex begins, “but I think this is the biggest change I’ve seen. I mean—” He gestures wildly at the scene before them. “This is legal! This is legal. It’s accepted. They’re just—Everyone is just—themselves! They’re themselves, and it’s okay.”

“I was gonna ask how you feel about it, but—” Luke shares a laugh with Reggie— “I think I have my answer.”

“I feel…” Alex rocks on his heels, considering his answer. He chews on his lip. “You guys will probably think it’s dumb, but—”

“You know we won’t think it’s dumb,” Reggie argues immediately. Alex glances at him. He’s giving Alex this look with a raised eyebrow, like he can’t believe he would even think that. Which is valid, you know, because they’ve never been anything less than supportive of Alex. Of course they haven’t; he really lucked out in the friend department.

“I feel safe here.” He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. “Like when I could finally leave my house to go to practice, and I knew none of you guys would judge me if I told you about a guy that I thought was cute.” He finds Julie in the crowd, chatting with the lesbian couple he saw earlier, posing for pictures—selfies—with them and laughing when the woman’s partner hid bunny ears behind her head. 

Alex rubs the back of his neck. “I just… don’t think I could’ve imagined feeling safe around people who aren’t my friends.” He finally turns to Luke and Reggie, who are watching him with wide grins. Alex huffs a laugh. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Reggie chuckles. He slings an arm around Alex’s shoulders. “We’re just happy for you, man.”

“Yeah,” Luke agrees. He hums. “Can’t wait to see what the whole thing with June is about.”

“Yeah!” Reggie exclaims. “D’ya think it’s a few days? A week?”

“We can ask Julie later,” Alex suggests.

Reggie snickers. “If she doesn’t stay with Flynn.”

Luke hums. “Yeah, I’m gonna… go convince her to stay home tonight.” He pauses to squeeze Alex’s shoulder before leaving them for the dance floor.

Alex suddenly steps away from Reggie. “I, uh… I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“I just—I want to find Willie. I want to talk to him about something.”

“You’re really going to leave me third wheeling with jukebox over there?”

Alex snorts. “Jukebox? Have they approved of that name?”

“… They don’t know about it.” Reggie pauses, then adds, “And you’re not going to tell them.”

“I promise.”

Reggie chuckles. “You better. Now go, find your boy.”

He’s at the museum, the first place Alex looks. He’s just leaving actually—as soon as Alex arrives at the building, Willie is phasing through the door, about to skate down the street.

“Willie!” Alex calls. 

Willie steps off his board. He turns to him, and instantly, a smile spreads across his face. “Hey, Alex. What’s up?”

“So,” Alex says, stopping in front of him, grinning, “tell me about Pride.”

Willie’s eyes shine at the request, just as beautiful as the lights from the wedding. 

“I’d love to.”

[somerandomdutchfangirl]

Hetalia Family Week - Day 1: Hobbies

This is my entry for @hetafamilyweek day 1 - hobbies (and hugs)

Summary:  They didn't have time for family hangouts often, with them being nations and all that, but whenever they did, it was safe to say it was the most fun any of them would have that week.

Sometimes, they would just go for a coffee or lunch or have a picnic. Other times, they would binge-watch a series while cuddling on the couch. And then, there were times like this.

This has also been posted to my a03!

Disclaimer: the opinions of the characters aren’t necessarily the authors opinion. Also, some of the sentences have been translated with Google Translate. If there is any mistake, please let me know and I'll fix as soon as possible! The translations are at the end.

Names used:

Willem = Netherlands

Femke = Belgium

Laurent = Luxembourg

Antonio = Spain

Matthew = Canada

Abel = Holland, @starflight-blog oc

Sjoerd = Friesland, @starflight-blog oc

Lieke = Groningen, @starflight-blog oc

Relevant headcanons time!  

- Femke owns a cat named Mika

- Matthew and Willem are married (see end notes for more info)

- Matthew uses he/they pronouns

:readmore:

They didn't have time for family hangouts often, with them being nations and all that, but whenever they did, it was safe to say it was the most fun any of them would have that week.

Sometimes, they would just go for a coffee or lunch or have a picnic. Other times, they would binge-watch a series while cuddling on the couch. And then, there were times like this.

"Can't you two sit still for like five minutes? If you want this painting to actually look good, you're gonna have to let me actually have time to paint you!"

"What if we want it to look like Picasso?"

"Laurent, hoepel een eind op, Picasso sucks and so do his paintings."

"Don't let Antonio hear you say that."

"Antonio can go fuck himself."

"Guys, let's keep this fun, alright? I want to enjoy this day," Femke chimed in. Willem huffed but didn't complain further. Laurent grinned and continued composing a piece for the harp standing next to him.  

(When Laurent had led them towards his "inspiration room" as he liked to call it, which was just a room filled with instruments, art supplies and more, both siblings had been filled with dread at the thought of Laurent playing the tuba, or god forbid, the trombone. Willem had said: "Laurent, I swear to god, if you're going to play the tuba or the trombone, I'm going to throw both you and the instrument out of the nearest window." To which Laurent had been a smartass and replied, "Can you even lift all that weight though?" That had ended up in a chase through the house that ended when Femke tackle-hugged both.)

The comfortable silence continued for a while, broken only by the occasional sigh from one of the siblings or Laurent trying the piece on the harp.

"Hey, Fem," Laurent walked up to her while he was taking a quick break, "What're you making?"

"Well, I'm trying to embroider our pets, but this stitch just won't work, godverdomme-"

"Maybe you should take a break and come back to it later? It's getting late anyway, we should eat dinner soon," Laurent suggested. Femke nodded. When no conformation came from Willem, they turned to him.

"Hey, earth to Willem! Did you hear what we just said?" Laurent asked, walking up to him and quickly stopping next to him. "Nondikass!" He exclaimed. "Willem, that looks amazing! How'd you do that in such a short time?!"

Femke, now curious, walked up to her brothers and peeked over their shoulders. "What the fuck, Willem," she gaped at the painting in front of her. It was clearly her and Laurent doing their respective hobbies, with beautiful lighting and background. The vibrant colours of the front of the painting was a stark contrast to the background, which had much softer tones. "You told us you were rusty! What part of this is rusty?!"

Willem, who was now looking more like a tomato, opened his mouth, no doubt to point out all the things that were wrong with it, but Laurent cut him off. "Nope, Mr. Perfectionist, you're not pointing out all the imperfections of this, and that's final. This is a masterpiece, seriously. Don't give me that look!"

"You know," Femke mused, "I might actually hang this in my house once it's dry."

"Guys," Willem said, flustered, "It's not that good. Really. Thanks for the compliments, but-"

"No buts!" Femke exclaimed at the same time Laurent yelled: "Not that good?!"

"Yeah, it's... the colour's off, the perspective is weird, and-"

"I am this close to actually strangling you with your scarf, Willem," Femke cut him off, her hands on her hips. "So what if it isn't perfect? That doesn't make it look any less amazing! I'll tell you what, we're gonna take a break, then we're going to come back here, and you'll see how amazing this actually looks."  

Willem looked at her for a few seconds before sighing. "Fine..."

"Now don't go around brooding like that, it's no fun," Laurent said while shooting Femke a quick thumbs-up. Femke grinned.

"Now, come on! I'll make waffles!"

---

"Hey, Matthew replied!" Laurent exclaimed, effectively cutting off Willems' story on the antics of Abel and Sjoerd.

(Apparently, they had gotten into a fight over who had the most creative curse words. This had ended in Abel singing along to the curse word song in Dutch, until Lieke walked in. Sjoerd had promptly slapped a hand over Abel's mouth to stop him from ‘tainting Lieke's innocence’. It was weird.)

"What do you mean?" Willem asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, dearest brother of mine," Laurent replied with a shit-eating grin, which did absolutely nothing to ease Willem's worries. "Because you didn't seem too convinced by us literally shouting how amazing your painting was, we decided to send a picture to Matthew-"

"You what?!"

"-to see what he thinks of it," Laurent continued, unfazed. "Since, you know, you seem to care a lot about what they think, about as much as you care about what we think? I mean I would hope so, considering we're your siblings, but-"

"You're getting off track, Laurent," Femke cut him off. "Anyway, we figured that if anyone other than us would manage to convince you that your painting is amazing, it's gonna be Matthew."

"I-"

"Don't even try to deny it. We went to your wedding, remember? We know how much you care about him. Which is a good thing, by the way. So, Laurent, what did they say?"

"Well, there's an all-caps keysmash, followed by an all-caps 'what?!'. Scratch that, basically everything is in caps. So, the general train of thought is 'what the fuck, this is beautiful, how the fuck did he do this, he calls this rusty?!' And finally, 'I love it 10/10 would hang in my living room and/or show off to my family and friends. It's beautiful and I'll physically fight him on that.'"

"Awww, that's so sweet! See, Willy, your painting truly is amazing!" Femke, sporting a somehow genuine but shit-eating grin, patted her brother on the back. Said brother had his head in his hands and may or may not be crying.

"I hate you two," came the muffled reply with no real heat behind it. Femke and Laurens laughed.

"We love you too, you softie! Now come on, who's ready to spend more time together!" Femke cheered, already halfway across the room.

---

"Jezus Christus, Femke, that looks amazing!" Willem said, looking at the embroidery his sister had made. It pictured their pets, Pelutze, Mika, and Nijntje. 

"Aww, thanks Willem!"

"Wait, let me see- wow, sis, this is really good! I love it!"  

"Thank you, Lau! By the way, is your composition nearly finished? I want to hear it!"

"Me too, actually."

"Well, it's not done yet, but I can play what I have so far?"

"Yes please!" Femke smiled.

Laurent sat down and started playing the piece of music he had written on the harp. Moving his fingers delicately along the strings, the beautiful melody carried along the room. Once he was done, he looked up.

"So... what did you think- Femke are you okay?!"

"Yeah, sorry, it's just... it's so beautiful!" Femke cried, flinging herself at Laurent and crushing him in a hug.  

"I agree with Femke, it was wonderful," Willem chimed in, walking over to his siblings. Femke quickly included him in the hug.

"You two are so talented, what the hell!"

"Fem, you're crushing me," Laurent gasped. "And don't you dare exclude yourself, have you seen what you just made?!"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts, remember," Willem said, parroting her words back to her with a smirk.

"Why are you like this?"

Willem laughed at this. "You still love me despite it, though!"

"That's not an answer!"

"Is it not?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Guys, please stop. This is a stupid argument," Laurent rolled his eyes.

"Rolling your eyes at us? How rude, Lau," Willem said, locking him in a headlock and ruffling his hair.

"Hey, let me go!"

"Hmmm, let's see... Nope."

"Oh, come on! Fem, help me out here!"

Femke just laughed in response.

"Betrayal!" Laurent screeched, struggling to get out of his brother's headlock. Femke just laughed harder in response, almost falling over.

"You know, you could always just say the magic word to get out."

"The magic- What am I, five?"

"You certainly act like it sometimes."

"Fëck dech."

"Real mature, Laurent."

"Oh, like asking for the magic word is so mature."

"Absolutely. I haven't heard it yet, by the way. Femke, are you doing alright?" Willem asked, as his sister was now lying on the floor, tears streaming down her face. Gasping for air, she shook no.

"Seems like you'd better let me go before we make Femke choke," Laurent commented. Willem tsk-ed.

"Fine, fine. Fem, get up," he said, letting Laurent out of the headlock and extending a hand towards Femke.

"Give- give me a... minute," she said, still gasping for air. After she managed to get enough air in her lungs and not burst out laughing after she saw her brothers standing in front of her with worried (albeit semi-irritated) looks, she finally took Willem's offered hand.

"You two are utter morons."  

Willem gasped. "Are you hearing this, Laurent? Slander, complete and utter slander!"

"Well, she's right about one of us, and it isn't me."

"Laurent, ik tyf je de Noordzee in als je niet ophoudt-"

"Try me, old man-"

"Who're you calling old you little-"

''Oh for- hou uw bakkes! If this becomes another argument, I will smother both of you!''

''You wouldn't dare,'' Willem said. After a beat of silence and a fierce glare from Femke, he added: ''Would you?''

''I don't know, why don't you find out?''

''Fem, you're scaring me a bit here,'' Laurent said nervously. Femke hummed. Laurent looked at Willem, wide-eyed. Willem just looked back and shrugged.

''Could you even reach me though?'' Willem, who apparently had a death wish, asked.

Femke whipped around, glaring at her brother. Willem just glared back.

''Guys, no, no one's getting killed today,'' Laurent interjected. ''This is supposed to be a fun family meeting, remember? If there's any way anyone's going down,'' he added on, a devilish grin on his face as he slowly inched closer to his still glaring siblings, ''It's going to be this way!'' he yelled as he quickly poked Willem in his side, who immediately yelped and tried to get away. To no avail, because Femke quickly latched onto his arm and started poking him in his side too.  

''No, Fem, wait- What did I do to deserve this?!''

''Well, uh... you took the last waffle?''

''Are you asking me, or-'' Willem started to ask, then yelped again as his siblings started to tickle him.

''No! Please, mercy!''

''Hmmm, Lau, what do you think? Should we stop?'' Femke asked, looking at her younger brother.

''I don’t know, Fem,'' Laurent answered back, devilish grin still on his face. ''He hasn’t said the magic word yet.''

''Godverdomme, natuurlijk is dat het antwoord. Kut! Laurens, stop!''

''Hmm, let me think. Nee.''

Femke snickered. ''He looks like a worm, wiggling like that.''

''How the fuck-''

''Oh my god you're so right,'' Laurent said. ''Willem the worm,'' he started to say, but burst out laughing halfway through. Femke laid on top of Willem, wheezing. Willem, meanwhile, looked absolutely mortified.

''You two are so immature,'' he said.

''Says the guy currently laying on the floor because he's ticklish.''

''I will strangle you,'' Willem threatened.

''Try me, bit- Hey!'' Laurent started to say, before Willem had reached forward and pulled him besides him.

''You know, this is actually surprisingly comfortable,'' Femke commented after a beat of silence.

''No, you're heavy. Get off me- Lau don't you dare lay on top of Femke or I swear- oof!''

''Hmm? What was that?''

''I'll kill you.''

''Aw, we love you too!''

''... Ugh, fine, if I say it, will you get off?''

''Maybe!''

''You two are gremlins, oh my god. Fine, I love you too.''

''He said it! Lau, he said it!''

''Yeah yeah, we all heard it. Now get off me.''

''I mean... technically I never promised I'd get off-''

''Off. Now. Or I'll never bring you stroopwafels again.''

This earned him a scandalized gasp from both of his siblings.

''You’re so mean! How dare you deprive us of stroopwafels?!''

''You can't do that!''

''You two are impossible. I said off,'' Willem complained, trying to sit up. Which was hard, considering Femke was literally laying on top of him.  

''Say the magic word first.''

''Are you serious right now? Femke, we are not five.''

''So?''

''... Fine. Femke, can you please get the fuck off me?''

''Fine, close enough,'' she said as she got off Willem, who immediately took a deep breath.

''Finally, oh sweet air how much I've missed you.''

''You’re so weird. Anyway,'' Femke said, turning towards Laurent. ''You recorded the whole thing, right?''

Laurent laughed and rolled his eyes. ''Like you had to ask.''

Willem gaped at them, before jumping up. ''Godver- Laurent give that camera here, right now!''

''No, I don’t want to. I must say this is great blackmail material.''

''Laurent, als je nu niet die camera hier geeft, dan-''

''Du muss mech als éischt fänken!''

Needless to say, Willem ended up chasing Laurent through the house, Femke following closely behind. In the end, all three of them ended up in a dogpile on the couch, laughing. Yeah, family meetings were fun indeed.

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

Translations:

Hoepel een eind op (Dutch) = a nice(ish) way of saying ‘fuck off’ or ‘go away’

Godverdomme (Dutch, Flemish) = goddammit

Nondikass (Luxembourgish) = used as an exclaimation, meaning something like ‘damn’.

Jezus Christus (Dutch) = Jesus Christ

Fëck dech (Luxembourgish) = Screw you

Ik tyf je de Noordzee in als je niet ophoudt (Dutch) = I will throw you into the North Sea if you don't stop. (The word ‘tyf’ is pretty rude though, albeit used by a lot of teens in my experience, so I would not recommend going around actually saying this.)

Hou uw bakkes (Flemish) = shut up

Godverdomme, natuurlijk is dat het antwoord. Kut! (Dutch) = ‘Goddammit, of course that's the answer. Fuck!’ (even though the word 'kut’ doesn’t mean ‘fuck’, it's used as a replacement pretty often. The more accurate translation would be ‘vagina’, as that is literally what it means, but it's used as a curse word more often than not.)

Nee (Dutch, Flemish, Luxembourgish) = No

Laurent, als je nu niet die camera hier geeft, dan- = Laurent, if you don't give me the camera right now, then-

Du muss mech als éischt fänken! (Luxembourgish) = youre gonna have to catch me first!

Stroopwafels are a Dutch delicacy, I love them so much. Basically, they’re waffles with syrup in between. Google them for examples and probably a better explanation.

I am physically incapable of not adding in a sprinkle of NedCan. I'm sorry (but actually not really,, as stated, Willem and Matthew are married so technically Matthew is family- *gets smacked*)

The ending is more crack and longer than I intended because I have no self-control. Sue me.

Moral of the story: don't anger short ppl. They’re angrier cuz they’re closer to hell-

Yes Willem is ticklish, I said what I said.

Bonus scene: ''Wait, so if Willem is a worm, would Matthew be like... a moose?''

''I am begging you two to stop. Laurent, stop laughing!''

[r3almellow]

MLQC Boys With A Famous S/o

Here we go! Thank you anon for this request I hope its to your liking!! Apologies for typos as always!

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

Kiro (YouTuber S/o)

How did you meet ?

You were a YouTuber that had over 500,000 subscribers. During a Mukbang Q&A video you received a question in regards to your celebrity crush. 

“I think the big ass poster currently behind me kind of gives it away, but my ultimate crush is Kiro. I’d give anything to meet him at least once.” You went even as far as to give him a shout out. “Hey, super star! I heard you were a big foodie and since you like to eat and I like to eat, maybe we can eat together sometime? Okay, that was dumb, please ignore this!”

Little did you know, Kiro was a huge fan of your videos and just so happened to see your request. Next thing you knew a clip of you “shooting your shot” made its way to his social media page with a caption of “Its a date ;)” right above it. You just about died when you saw his post. You were only joking around! Well...not 100% joking, but you didn’t expect him to respond! 

You spent weeks talking to each other through private messages soon after. Your messages filled with gushing over your similar interests, playful banters and light flirting. He offered to be a part of your next Mukbang stating that it was better to have two people eating themselves into a coma on camera than one. You couldn’t argue with facts and took him up on his offer! Kiro only had one condition...you let him take you out on a date afterwards.

And the rest was history. 

Dating

The cutest couple to have ever existed! 

Both of your social media pages are filled with couple photos. 

You both get to dress up in disguise whenever you go on dates! A baseball cap, sunglasses, and face masks are your usual go to’s, but depending on where you’re going you might be required to get a little creative. 

Dealing with overly excited fans and even more persistent paparazzi was a bit new for you, since your interactions with people is mostly through the internet, but you handle it pretty well.

Interviewers practically threw themselves onto every opportunity to get information about your love life. Kiro was more skilled than you about these things, so you tend to just laugh awkwardly and let him take care of it. 

Kiro appears a little more in your videos whenever he’s free which the fans are grateful for. Of course, your channel doesn’t turn into all things Kiro and you never use him for your own personal gain. 

Dating Kiro did open up some opportunities for you, like getting to experience award shows and networking with other celebrities and content creators. Again, you refused to throw Kiro’s name around just to get the things you wanted. 

You both like to bounce ideas off of each other, whether its for his music or for your latest video. Having two creative minds come together does wonders! 

You’re almost always somewhere in the background during his live streams.  

Gavin (Actress S/o)

How did you meet? 

High school. You were a part of the drama club and Gavin was...well...forced into being a part of the stagehand after being threatened with expulsion from his last brawl. 

You were the first one to welcome him. You were kind, funny, and cute. And when you were on that stage? Mesmerizing was the best way to put how Gavin saw you. You were inspiring. 

After graduation Gavin lost contact with most of his acquaintances, but he never once stopped thinking about you. Gavin wasn’t big on celebrity news, but he actually kept up with your progress once he got wind of a newcomer taking the entertainment world by storm. 

Fast forward to a few years later and he was playing bodyguard for one of the most successful actresses in the world. You. This was just an undercover job that was going to last as long as his target was still out there. 

There was definitely chemistry between you. And while Gavin wanted to act on his feelings, his work had to come first. You respected that, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to let him know you were interested. How could you not be? You had a huge crush on him back in high school and now that he was by your side practically every day those feelings came back with a vengeance! 

As soon as Gavin’s objective was complete he continues being your bodyguard stating, “Only I can keep you out of trouble.” Which you responded by kissing him.

Dating

Once word got out about you dating your “bodyguard”, it shocked many that you decided to be with someone that wasn’t a celebrity. 

Even so, Gavin doesn’t look like your average Joe. He has the body and face of man who could easily be on the cover of Vogue or Vanity Fair, but you know your man isn’t about that life. 

You’ve spent years being a private person, so when you and Gavin start dating not revealing much was easy. The public only knew what you wanted them to. 

There are a lot of at home dates filled with takeout and movie night. Just being in each others company is more than enough for you!

You work out together a lot! He’s really good about motivating you especially when you have to prepare for an upcoming movie. You honestly don’t need a personal trainer when you have Gavin. 

The paparazzi are afraid of Gavin. Like they won’t even get within six feet of you whenever he’s around. The last poor soul who got a little too close for your liking ate asphalt within seconds.

Gavin isn’t one for the limelight or the glitz and glam, which you appreciate. Its nice to be around someone that isn’t a part of the entertainment world. 

You don’t have to hide a part of yourself, in fear of judgement, whenever you were with him. You appreciated Gavin’s genuine nature. He was always truthful with you and he never gave the impression that he was only with you because of your status. 

Gavin does a great job with making you feel special. Whenever you feel like you don’t meet the standards of what the industry wants, he pulls you out of that dark hole and gives you the pep talk you need to get through the day.

You could walk around without an ounce of makeup on or trade in a Dior dress for sweatpants and a t-shirt, and Gavin still found you beautiful. 

Victor ( Famous Pianist S/o)

How did you meet? 

Victor was a fan of your work for quite some time. There was something about your raw talent that drew him to your work. He always made it a point to go to all your live shows whenever he was available, but has never met you personally. 

It wasn’t until you waltzed right into his office out of the blue. When he saw you enter his office with Goldman and two security guards tailing right behind you, he didn’t even recognize you. You looked as if you had just rolled out of bed with a messy bun, ripped jeans, t-shirt with some random cartoon character and thick rimmed glasses. His first thought as you stared him down with a frown was, “Who let this homeless person into his office?” 

When Goldman called your name as the two security guards grabbed your arms, Victor had to do a double take. The elegant and graceful woman, who commanded the stage with just pads of her fingertips, was...YOU?! 

Victor allowed you to stay, curious to know why you were here. You business with Victor was simple. You wanted funding to create music schools for low income families. You had sent countless emails to LFG with hopes to do business with them, but after being ignored the first few times and receiving a rude rejection email that morning, you were ready to take the bull by the horns. 

Surprisingly Victor found himself intrigued by you and thus started an interesting partnership. 

The more Victor got to work with you the more he became attracted to the headstrong, smart, and talented person who seemingly enjoyed ruffling his feathers every chance they got. 

You were also attracted to the blunt, detail-oriented man and it bothered you to no-end. What you saw in a man who probably would critique drawings from a toddler, you had no idea. But you appreciated his work ethic. He genuinely wanted you to succeed with this project and you couldn’t deny his heart was in the right place. 

The day the first school opened was the day Victor decided to stop tiptoeing around the mutual attraction and asked you out.

“We can celebrate your accomplishments over dinner.” 

Dating

The CEO of LFG and the child prodigy turned world famous pianist dating?!

CAN WE SAY POWER COUPLE?!

Whenever paparazzi get a picture of the two of you, you both look as if you just finished a professional photoshoot. You NEVER look bad in those photos. Never! 

And when you do professional shoots? It leaves people SHOOK. Magazines like Forbes have never had such a beautiful couple grace their covers before. Just wait until people see your wedding photos.

You always ask him to visit you during your rehearsals which he almost always declines but shows up anyway, if he’s not too busy. He’ll also bring a box of his homemade pudding because knowing you, you probably were too busy with preparations for your upcoming concert to eat. He’ll take you out to eat afterwards, but the pudding should hold you over for a bit.

Victor will never admit this to you, but your music helps him de-stress after a long day at work, so whenever he isn’t with you, your music helps him fall asleep. 

Victor also likes to watch you work. Seeing you so focused as you create your next piece was a sight to beheld. The pensive look in your eyes as you went over your music sheet, the slow nod of your head as your fingers danced across the keys as you intently listened to the melody, and the way your eyebrow twitched when you hit a key you didn’t like; all things oddly enjoyed seeing.

You’ll never catch him staring. He’ll pretend he’s working whenever you feel his eyes on you and if you try to call him out on it, he will most likely deny it. 

Lucien ( Novelist S/o)

How did you meet? 

You needed the help of someone knowledgeable with neuroscience for your next book. Someone recommended a Professor at Loveland University who specialized on the topic. That was how you met Professor Lucien. 

You two worked closely together once you started your manuscript, going over various topics under the neuroscience category. It wasn’t surprising just how intelligent the man was on the subject, but you were in awe about how much you knew.

Your meetings would often start at the university which led to you going home together once you found out he lived in the same building as you. You leveled up from the lecture hall to aquariums, movie theaters, restaurants, and his apartment where you had lunch or dinner. 

Your conversations never stayed on the topic of work. It often changed to your interests. You found that you and Lucien had a lot of similar interests like your taste in books and art. He also developed a love for teasing you. 

Seeing the look on your flustered face turned into one of his favorite pastimes.

When it came to the topic of your books, you learned Lucien has read quite a few of them and was very intrigued with your work. He asked you numerous questions, questions no one thought to ask. 

He admitted to you his favorite of yours was the first book he ever read titled, “The Boy Who Dreamed.” You jokingly offered to sign his book, but he declined with a smile.

“I’ll admit I do enjoy the book, but I’m more interested in the woman who wrote it.” 

Dating

More dates at your favorite places. 

Almost every other week, Lucien seemed to have tickets to art exhibits, festivals, or the movies. 

His teasing intensifies by a hundred! That man loves to tease you and you hate it! You love it. 

The closer you got to Lucien, the more you realized he didn’t enjoy talking about himself, so it takes a while to learn about him or his past. You never press him for information, but he does reveal things to you within time.

Lucien loves when you read to him. Its how he falls asleep and once you find out he has trouble sleeping, you always suggest what you call “story time.” 

In truth, having you by his side is more than enough to get him to sleep, but if you aren’t there hearing your voice will do the trick. You could be reading anything and he’d be fine with it. From Dr. Seuss to H.G. Wells, Lucien was fine with it as long as he got hear your voice.

You like to ask for his opinion on your latest projects. He does a great job making you think outside of the box which will make things easier or challenging during your writing sessions. 

Whenever you encounter writer’s block, Lucien will pull you away from your laptop and mountains of papers to enjoy a nice relaxing day with him. 

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

Doooone! Please comment if you enjoyed this! I’d love to know what you guys think!

Want to read more of my writing? Check out my MLQC masterlist here!

[platonic-prompts]

Creatures from Folklore: Slavic Region A-D

You ever need different creatures to base things off of, or just want some legends for a setting? Or heck, you ever just want to chuck a creature at someone and say you’ll figure it out? Well, do I have the posts for you. This one will focus on the Slavic Region but I’ll make more at a later date

Ala are considered to be demons of bad weather in several folklore, including that of Bulgarians, Macedonians, and Serbs. Their main purpose is to lead thunderclouds that produce hail towards fields, vineyards, or orchards to either destroy the crops or to loot and take them. They are very voracious and really like to eat children. Though one shouldn’t assume they limit their tastes to Earth, no. They sometimes try to devour the sun and moon which lead to eclipses and if they succeed it means the end of the world. People who encounter one may find their mental and physical health as well as their lives at risk. It is, however, possibly to gain her favor by approaching with trust and respect. These good relationships can be very beneficial since she (the ala) can make those with her favor wealthy and save their lives if they are in danger. Ala can take on many different forms: black wind, giant creatures with no distinct form, a monster either humanlike or snake like witha  huge mouth, a female dragon, a raven, various human and animal shapes. Ala can also possess people’s bodies. They live in the clouds or in lakes, springs, hidden remote places as well as caves, inhospitable mountains, forests, or even a huge tree. Usually hostile towards humans, they have powerful enemies capable of defeating them like the dragons.

Alkanost have an incredible voice, capable of making anyone who hears her song might forget everything in their search for paradise. A creature of good who resides in the garden of the gods or whatever version of heaven required, the alkanost has the head and bust of a woman and the rest of the body is that of a bird. Sometimes this creature lays eggs which assist in the changing of winter to spring. Basically she wouldn’t sit on her eggs just dump them into the Ocean-Sea and when they reached the bottom the weather would turn fair. Though i think that takes her out of the running for parenting awards.

Anchutka is a small malevolent spirit, residing most often in water or a swamp. Even without wings, it is capable of flight. One of its nicknames is the one without heels. This is a common theme to look for, as oftentimes evil forces have a limp. Though in some storied this spirit has lost their heels because they got bitten off by a wolf. This spirit is often a sidekick to a water spirit called Vodyanoy, and as such you should never say its name aloud since it will always show up.

Aspid, a type of dragon with a beak and other birdlike elements, resides primarily in the mountains, preferring solitude. When it invades a region, nearly always it caused universal devastation.

Baba Yaga: I’m pretty sure a lot of people know about Baba Yaga, the witch who lives in a hut with chicken legs and goes around in a mortar and pestle. She does carry a broom though, but she only uses it to sweep away her tracks.

Bannik is a spirit who rarely does any good for anyone. A mischievous spirit that has the appearance of an old man with long claws, he’s a spirit that inhabits the banya (steamhouse). Whenever people bathed in the banya, they would always leave on the third or fourth session to let Bannik have his privacy. They would leave him offerings of soup and regularly thank him. Bannik had the power to tell the future and if asked a question he would softly touch the askers back if it was a good future or flay it if it was a not so good future. Oh and Bannik, when angry, would claw off the skin of those who annoyed him. The banya was also the place of Russian childbirth, so there were measures taken to keep him from interfering. Part of the midwife’s job was to keep him away. And with good reason. Legends say that he ate or flayed children. So therefore the midwife would dip stones in the water and throw them in the corner to distract the steamhouse spirit.

Bauk hide in dark places and holes and abandoned houses. There they wait to grab, take away, and devour their victims. They have a clumsy gait and can be scared away by light and noise.

Babay, possibly the same thing as the bubak, isn’t often described so children will come up with what is most terrible for them. But despite this, Baby has been described as a black and crooked old man. When he is descibed he tends to have some traits such as muteness, lacking arms, or walking with a limp. He carries with him a bag and a cane. Baby lives in a forest or a swamp or a garden only to come out at night to walk the streets and scoop up the children he meets. He will walk close to windows and watched the children sleep. If they aren’t he’ll scare them with noises. Or sometimes he even hides under kids beds to take them away if they get up.

Błędnica is a forest demoness, who leads people astray before leaving her victims alone in the midst of the forest to die of starvation or be eaten by animals. She is usually described as a young and pretty girl. The only way to chase her away is to use strong spells or to sacrifice something at home or during your hunt.

Blud is a fairy in Slavic mythology. An evil deity who causes disorientation and leads a person around and around aimlessly.

Bukavac lives in lakes and pools, coming out at night to make a loud noise. A six-legged monster with gnarled horns, it would jump people and animals and strangle them.

Bubak is often represented as a scarecrow with a skeleton as frame, which is connected with darkness, it is a type of boogeymen used to scare children. The skeleton often is describes as wearing a heavy black coat where it hides the children it steals.

Cikavac, a mythical creature from Serbian mythology and it kinda feels like a basilisk but way weirder. This thing is a bird that has a long beak and a pelican-like sack. You can acquire one at the low low price of your sanity and clear face. For you see, in order to get one, you need to take an egg from a black hen which a woman now needs to carry under her armpit for 40 days ( is now a good time to note that chicken eggs hatch after 21 days or so) and one cannot confess, cut nails, wash their face, or pray. After that the cikavac would suck the honey from other people’s beehives and suck milk from other peoples cows and then bring it back to their owner. It would fulfill its owner’s wishes and it would allow its owner to understand the animal language.

Chort, a demon or a humanlike spirit in Slavic folk tradition.  They are not exactly evil characters. Yes they try to trick people into selling them their souls in exchange for useless gifts. Yes those people are carried off into hell. But they are sometimes tricked into doing such things as building castle walls in a day. Sometimes is depicted as trying to bring evil characters to hell. A small, hairy man with a tail, horns, and one or two hooves. But due to shapeshifting abilities, the chort is able to appear in nicer forms and tries to trick people while in them. Though these transformations aren’t and can’t be complete, so there’s a way to know if one is dealing with a chort whether it be by small horns in curly black hair or a hoofed leg hidden within high boots. Though they share similarities, a chort is not the devil.

Čuma, aka kuga, is a personification of the plague in Serbo-Croation myths. Typically appears as an old woman wearing white, though in some cases has been depicted as a young woman. Direct mention of them were avoided and were usually referred to by godmother or aunty. According to belief, they lived in a far away land where they came from to infect people. Due to their hatred of dirtiness, if they found a dirty household they would be eager to infect it. Due to this, if a plague appeared,every house and its occupants must be thoroughly cleansed. In addition one could make offerings to of food, clean water, basil, and a comb.

Domovoi are household protectors, generally seen as kind spirits though they would harass the family they protect if said family was rude or unclean. This usually took the form of pulling small pranks until the family corrected their behavior. While domovoi are shape shifters, most depictions show them as small, bearded masculine creatures which are reminiscent of hobgoblins. In order to complete his chores and to fulfill his duty of protecting the house, the domovoi would assume the shape of the head of the household, sometimes working in the yard while the real head of household was asleep. (Guess spirits don’t have to worry about identity theft charges). They were also capable of turning into animals, rarely taking the form of a dog or a cat. Another facet of the domovoi was their ability to act as an oracle. Predictions are as follows

Dancing and laughing= Good fortune would come

Rubbed the bristles of a comb= a wedding would happen soon

Extinguished candles= Misfortune would fall upon the household.

Dziwożona, a type of female swamp demon from Slavic mythology, sometimes called Mamuna or Bognika, who lived in the thickets near rivers and streams and lakes. Thought to appear with foul weather around trees and swamps, they are known for being malicious and dangerous, and usually were previously living humans. Several types of people would be at risk of turning into one after death, such as: midwives, old maids, unmarried mothers, pregnant women who die before giving birth, and abandoned children who were born out of wedlock. Some depictions include an ugly, old woman who had a hairy body, long straight hair, and I quote “breasts so huge she uses them to wash her clothes”. I don’t know what that actually means and I don’t want to find out. She also wore a red hat with a fern twig attached. In case she wasn’t weird enough, she’d watch women with their little children.  Just chilling around making the kid sick and making schemes to get the mother away from the kid when she’d replace the kid with one of her own, a foundling/changeling.

[lazyangeltreemoney]

Never Doubt I Love

One Shot, Royal AU

Description : Prince James is to wed Princess Y/N of the neighbouring country after the war to try and strengthen their countries. Bucky is less than happy about it and is shamelessly rude to Y/N, one day she has enough.

Pairings: Prince!Bucky x Princess!Reader (platonic), Prince!Bucky x Natasha, Loki x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 4987

Warnings: mentions of war, arranged marriage, death, insults, swearings.

A/N: just had this idea in my head all day and I’m a sucker for AU’s. Hope y'all enjoy

Bucky hated her from the second he saw her. When she stepped out of the limo in front of the palace an instant disdain burned in him. He would say it was from how she dressed being so dull, or her hair and makeup seemingly so perfect to the point of she looked like a doll, not a real human being. Natalia looks real. She was by no means the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Natalia is beautiful. This, this was who his parents expected him to marry?

When they finally got to talking it only cemented his hate. He hated how proper and ladylike she was, a proper princess who knew all the curtseys and proper rituals, it was almost robotic. Natalia at least would talk like a real human being. She talked to his parents and said everything she was trained to say, nothing seemed real about her. Natalia has a personality.

As time went on and she would try talking to Bucky she would be able to talk circles around him, any insult he gave she was able to bat back in a moment. Natalia knew when he did and didn’t like being pushed. He didn’t like being outwitted, especially on his own turf. 

“You just hate her because you can’t marry Nat without giving your mother a heart attack.” Steve stated as he took a swing of his water. 

“No, I hate her because she’s the most boring and insufferable woman I’ve ever met, I would say human but I’ve met Sam.” Bucky commented back. 

The pair had been sparring and training. Steve was Bucky’s cousin and Head of the Royal Guard. The pair had been friends since they could talk, thick as thieves. They had gone to war together and by some miracle survived and came out stronger than ever. Bucky was the soon to be King, he had no reason to be training but some of the old army habits he was never able to kick. 

“She’s in a new country, a country she will soon have to rule, it’s a lot to take on.” Steve tried to get his friend to sympathise with Y/N. 

“Not my problem, now if we’re done here I’m going to see Nat.” Bucky retorted and walked away. 

“I’ll see you at the ball tonight!” Steve called down the hall. 

Bucky simply ignored him and kept walking on shaking his head. Of course Steve would have to remind him of that stupid ball, the one to announce Y/N’s and his engagment. Y/N had been staying in the palace for nearly over a month now, to try and not raise suspicion of an ‘arranged marriage’. Bucky had gone over his proposal speech about a thousand times to try and give it something to make it believable. Nothing worked, it all sounded robotic and cheesy to the point where the press would see right through him. 

This led to him sitting with Natalia in his bedroom trying to think of what on earth he was going to say tonight. The pair were both naked with only a sheet covering them, Bucky was sat by the window smoking a cigarette to try and clear his head. Natalia was going over what he had already written down so far. 

“-I love you to the moon and back’ oof.” Natalia laughed. 

“I know, I know, it’s awful and I’m about to make a fool out of myself in front of the whole kingdom.” Bucky huffed, stubbing out his cigarette. 

Natalia leaned forward and began to card her hands through his hair to try and comfort him. Telling him how some of it was sweet or how he could close his eyes and try to pretend it was her, he was proposing to. 

“Urgh, it doesn’t matter what I write how I can be any form of genuine when I’m proposing to an iceberg.” Bucky groaned holding his head. 

“Come on, she’s not that bad, Wanda speaks pretty highly of her.” Natalia offered. 

Bucky was so sick of everyone trying to convince him Y/N ‘wasn’t that bad’. Even Nat, apparently her and Y/N would often go into the gardens with Wanda for some form of a book club. Y/N knew full well what was going on between Nat and Bucky, she had told her in person and she gave Nat her blessing. Told her that she was simply doing right by her country and had no claim over Bucky’s heart. 

Bucky didn’t buy it, he was convinced Y/N was trying to play some bigger game. He was the only one in his conspiracy theory. 

“Nat I’m having to ask that bitch to be my wife, to stand by me, raise my heirs, how can I?” Bucky let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Because you’re a King and like it or not she is your Queen.” Nat tried to calm him. 

“Well right now I want to pretend that you are my one and only queen.” Bucky smirked and grabbed Natalia ready to ravish her again. 

So lost in the moment he had no idea Y/N was just right outside of the room, hearing their whole conversation. She had gone to talk to Bucky about tonight, about how to play in front of the press watching and just them in general. Y/N only closed her eyes and let out a small frustrated sigh as she marched back to her room. By the time she was just outside her room she didn’t know how or why but she was crying. Endless streams of tears seemed to be flooding and nothing she did could stop it, but why? Did she love Bucky? No, but at the very least she wanted him to respect her. Not call her a bitch or human iceberg. 

Rushing into her room she slammed the doors behind her. In her room were her clothes for this evening, a gorgeous gown with silver trimmings and heels to match. However the very sight of the dress made her feel sick. It was less of a gorgeous gown and more like shackles. As if she was submitting to a life of ridicule and hate from her husband. 

Falling to her knees she held herself for a second. It was never meant to be like this. It was meant to be so much kinder and happier, the life a princess was supposed to have. This however was the reality, cruel and ironic at every chance it had. 

Y/N wasn’t sure how long she had laid on the floor but she knew it had been a while and she would have to start getting ready. As she had been trained since birth, she wiped her eyes and gracefully rose from the floor, back straight and head high, thinking of all she would sacrifice for her kingdom. 

It was now only a few hours til the ball and Bucky still didn’t know what to say during his proposal. Anything he had down was tibits he had gotten from people Y/N actually talked to, like Steve or Wanda. However none of it sounded like him, he had always been vocal in the press, they knew how he talked. Defeatedly, he walked towards Y/N’s room knowing she was the only one who could fix this. 

Y/N had a way with the people, even Bucky couldn’t deny that. When the war was at its worst, it was Y/N’s speeches or public acts that seemed to give most of the soldiers and citizens hope. If anyone knew what the public wanted to hear it was Y/N. So Bucky now stood in front of her ornate door hanging his head. Letting out a frustrated sigh he knocked on the door. There was a short pause before a voice called him in. 

“Enter.” 

When he walked in he saw Y/N in her dress. It was a dark blue silk that was sleeveless, that seemed to hug her figure just right. She wore white silk gloves that had the most delicate lace and pearls wrapped around her neck. Bucky hated to admit it but he was speechless at the sight of her. Her hair was in a bun but a few loose hairs cascaded down her face shaping it perfectly. Her makeup was a lot more natural and her lips seemed to be the perfect shade. The more he looked at her the less and less she looked like the girl who first appeared in the palace. 

“Was there something you wanted to say James or are you just going to stare?” Y/N asked bringing him back to reality. 

Bucky coughed slightly and stood up a little straighter. 

“Ah yes, I came to talk to you about tonight,” Bucky began before Y/N let out a sarcastic laugh. “Something funny?” Bucky raised a brow to her. 

“Just surprised that you would want to hold an actual conversation with me is all.” Y/N spoke in that tone that made Bucky cringe. 

It was royal and regal, just the right amount of sweetness with the right amount of authority. No one had a voice like that unless they had been trained from day one. Bucky hated that even now she was playing mind games with him and talking so many circles around him his head could spin. But right now he had to let it slide because he really needed her help. 

“Look I need your help on conning an entire country that we’re in love.” Bucky tried to explain. 

“Love.” Y/N scoffed back. 

Bucky was now losing his patience. 

“Yes love.” Bucky’s tone was getting dangerously dark. 

Y/N however didn’t care, she had been pushed too far. She was too tired, tired of his arrogance, his childishness, his stubbornness and how he was convinced that Y/N wanted this. Especially when he didn’t know the first thing about her. 

“How can you when you hate me, god James I know you don’t love me and I don’t want you to but you could at least tolerate me.” Y/N exasperated, he was finally getting put in his place one way or another. 

Bucky went to argue back but Y/N was nowhere near done. 

“I tolerate you, I tolerate your lover, even befriended her but you can’t even look at me without insulting me, God, you think I want this? You think my heart doesn’t belong to someone else as well, at least you get to see your lover everyday.” Y/N ranted. 

So much information was coming at Bucky at once it was hard to process it all. His brain was almost on autopilot. 

“How does any of that help me write this?” Bucky asked. 

Of course, of fucking course, Y/N just poured her heart out to him and he still doesn’t care. Well now neither does she. 

“Say whatever the fuck you want.” Y/N yelled storming out of the room. 

Bucky was left alone in the room feeling uneasy. Y/N had never swore once in the whole time he had known her, not even with anyone. She had always tried to be the perfect lady but now that seemed to all go out of the window. Sighing, Bucky sat on Y/N’s bed and let his mind wander. The words Y/N spoke seemed to be playing on a loop until it finally hit him. 

 “You think my heart doesn’t belong to someone else as well”

It was about an hour before the ball was supposed to begin when Bucky finally found her. Y/N was on one of the balconies having a cigarette. He had no idea that she smoked, but she even made that look graceful. She seemed to be deep in thought, almost relaxed. However her little moment of peace seemed to be ruined when Bucky showed his face. She looked at him for a moment before turning away to look at the night sky. 

“So who is he?” Bucky asked, leaning on the railing. 

Y/N remained silent and took another puff of her cigarette. Her face was like a statue wanting to give nothing away. 

“Is he back in your country?” Bucky hummed. 

“He’s buried there.” Y/N finally spoke. 

Bucky looked at her in astonishment. Y/N had revealed one of her deepest secrets so casually he wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating. He tried to study her more to see if she was lying but he honestly couldn’t tell, until she stubbed out her cigarette. 

“His name was Loki and he was beautiful.” Y/N spoke softly with a sad smile forming on her face as the memories came flooding back. 

Thor was her usual royal guardsmen. He was a bit of a goof with more brawn than brains but Y/N got along with him just fine. Just like all the guardsmen in her country Y/N trusted them with her life. However one morning Thor greeted her before she went riding accompanied by a dark haired man. He was a lot shorter than Thor and paler. His eyes were an emerald green that seemed to be locked on Y/N from the second he walked into the stable. 

“Ah Thor, ready for our ride?” Y/N spoke enthusiastically

“Actually your Majesty will have the joy of my brother with you today.” Thor explained, gesturing to the man next to him. 

“Brother?” Y/N raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Adopted.” Thor explained. 

“Call me Loki.” The dark haired man introduced himself. 

“Only if you call my Y/N.” She replied. 

Loki instantly smirked at her. Something about the tone of her voice told him this was going to be fun. The pair saddled up the horses and were off into the royal woods. Y/N led the way and Loki had to try his best to not lose her. After about half an hour of riding Y/N finally stopped by a lake. Loki was exhausted and more than happy to have his own two legs on the ground. He practically collapsed off his horse and gulped some water from his bottle. 

“Anyone would think you didn’t want my protection.” Loki said breathily. 

Y/N only giggled at him and began to set up her camp. Loki noticed she was building a small fire, she then took out a metal can and took some water from the lake. With that she took out a book and a tea bag she placed into the can of water. 

“Would you care for some tea?” Y/N asked. 

Loki merely nodded and sat down beside her. The lake was beautiful, the water was so clear and glimmering, it seemed to show his reflection perfectly. The woods circled around them, it almost felt like he was in the eye of a storm. He glanced over to Y/N who was pouring him a small cup of tea. She was so beautiful as the light shone on her, regal, elegant. 

“What are you reading?” Loki mused as he took the cup. 

“Shakespeare's sonnets.” Y/N showed him the cover as her eyes went back to the pages. 

“Would you mind if you read them to me, I’ve always had a soft spot for his works.” Loki admitted. 

He wasn’t sure why he was telling her this but he felt like he could, he felt like he could tell her anything within a few minutes of knowing her. She had the air of comfort around her. Y/N nodded and began to read out loud to him. Her voice seemed to give the words meaning, as if before now they were just words on a page. The pair sat together like that for hours, eventually Loki began to read to her instead. They discussed and argued about what he truly meant when Shakespeare wrote certain rhymes. They continued to jest and tease each other on the ride home. By the time they got to the stable it was nearly sunset. 

“Thankyou for this today, usually when I go with Thor he gets bored after an hour and I have to head home.” Y/N smiled at Loki as she tied up her horse.

“Anytime, Y/N.” Loki replied smiling at her. 

Y/N wanted to scold herself for how her heart fluttered when he said her name. The two bid each other goodnight but the lingering glances were clear neither of them wanted to part ways.

Them running away to the lake quickly became a little tradition between them. Even if they could only have an hour there they would wake up at the crack of dawn or dead of night to simply be in each others company. It was one of the times when they both had busy schedules the next day so they were in the dead of night Y/N’s head laid in Loki’s lap by the lake. The moonlight shining down on them. The soft neighs of horses and gentle lapping on the lake could be heard. It was the most peaceful thing Y/N had ever experienced. 

“Doubt thou the stars are fire;Doubt that the sun doth move;Doubt truth to be a liar;But never doubt I love.” Loki spoke softly

Y/N nestled into more as his words rang seemed to lull her to sleep.

“Love maybe we should head back, the sun will be coming up soon.” Loki reminded her. 

“Just a few more minutes.” Y/N sleepily mumbled back. 

Loki couldn’t help but chuckle at her sleepy stubbornness. To be completely honest, he didn’t want to leave either, this was their little sanctuary, away from their duties, the fear, the pressure. But they couldn’t hide away forever, Y/N especially would never abandon her people like that.

“Alright Love.” Loki spoke softly. 

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. By the time he finished reading the page Y/N was asleep. Her soft snores and gentle eyes closed. Loki wanted nothing more than to see that sight every night, to have her fall asleep in his arms every night. But she was a royal, the princess no less and he was not. It didn’t matter though, he had this and it was enough for now. 

“What happened?” Bucky asked. 

“The war happened.” Y/N replied. 

She had to hold back the tears as the memories played on in her mind. 

Loki had agreed to meet her at the lake early that morning. They both needed it, the war had just begun and they were both on edge. The war had barely begun and Y/N was trying to think of ways to end it. Meanwhile Loki was more scared for Y/N’s safety than ever, scared she would end up performing some act of Martyrdom just to end the war. 

Loki and Y/N had ridden in complete silence to the lake. It was weird, usually their ride together would be filled with teasing and discussing whatever book they were reading. This however was uneasy and uncomfortable. Too much was on each others mind for them to just be themselves. 

However once they reached the lake and Y/N had made the tea it was as if everything outside those woods no longer existed. Y/N laid her head on Loki’s shoulder and he began to read aloud to her, pausing occasionally to make a remark about it or flirt with Y/N. To which she would merely giggle and kiss his cheek to tell him to keep reading. 

It was one of those moments when Y/N went to kiss his cheek did he turned so to catch her lips with his. Loki dropped the book and wrapped his hands around her waist. Y/N had hers around his neck as she deepened the kiss. The two only broke apart for air, resting their foreheads against each other. 

“I’ve missed my Love.” Loki spoke breathlessly. 

“I’m sorry, I just want this war to end.” Y/N admitted guiltily. 

Y/N noticed how Loki’s face turned slightly when she mentioned the war, as if there was something he needed to tell her about it. No, surely not. 

“I got my draft letter yesterday, I ship out in a few days.” Loki almost hung his head in shame. 

Y/N broke apart from him. This couldn’t be happening, no she wouldn’t allow it. She had given almost all of herself to her people, to the crown but they couldn’t have Loki. 

“No, no, no.” She rambled pacing up and down but the lake. 

“Love.” Loki called trying to soothe her. 

“No, I won’t allow it, I decree it as the Princess of this land you will not set one foot out of the palace grounds.” Y/N tried to sound strong, use her authoritative tone so Loki wouldn't argue. 

But it was to no avail. 

“You think I want to leave you, but if I stay on your orders, what will people think?” Loki explained. 

“I don’t care what they think, I’ll marry you, you’ll be their king and adore you.” Y/N pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes. 

“We both know that’s not how this works.” Loki sighed, he hated to see her cry. 

He hated any form of sadness she had to endure. He hated how she would never be able to let it show, always internalising it and keeping it hidden. She only let her emotions go when she was with him, which made all of this hurt even more. 

Slowly he walked over to her and held her close. She sobbed into his shirt until no more tears could physically come out of her. Even after that Y/N still held him close, afraid that the second she let go he would be gone. 

“Promise me that you’ll come back to me, that no matter what happens you will come back here to this very spot.” Y/N’s voice was crackled and strained from the crying. 

Loki knew he couldn’t truly promise her that, but nonetheless he did. 

“I promise, Love.” 

Y/N watched him get shipped out. She went in disguise to kiss him goodbye on the dock. Tears were in both of their eyes. She used her spies to give him love letters and gifts of books with their favourite passages circled. Loki saw the work Y/N was doing and the speeches she made in the papers and on posters everywhere he went. He had never been so proud of her, she was truly going to make a wonderful Queen. 

It was the very last year of the war when Thor knocked on her door in full uniform with that damned letter and dog tags.No body could be recovered, there were too many hidden among them. She had locked herself into isolation after Thor had told her the knews; Simply wanting to be alone with her books and memories. Then her maid came and dropped breakfast by her door while slipping a letter under the door. 

Y/N walked towards the door and picked up the letter when she gasped at the handwriting, it was Loki’s. She felt almost feral as she tore it open, instantly checking the date, it was from three weeks ago, two weeks before…

To My Dear Y/N

I miss you my love, miss you more than you will ever know. I’ve seen your face all around the city, in the papers and although I am proud of you it does make my heart ache, a constant reminder of the distance between us. 

It is something I can bear no longer. Which is why when I keep my promise to you I will meet you at our spot and march into the palace demanding the King to make you my wife. I know I am no prince or lord but I am yours and I hope with everything in my being you are still mine. You are the only thing that makes this war worth fighting for and we both know it is drawing to a close. So please just hang on a little longer my Love. 

Soon we will have all we can desire; we will be wed; we’ll have children and take them to the lake. You will splash them in the water and then we’ll dry them while we read them stories with tea sat round the fire. Until then we will just have to read our stories apart, me around the fire here and you in front of the fire there. 

All my love, 

Loki. 

“I took his dog tags and the letters he wrote me,put them in a box and buried them by the lake, In the spot where I would always light the fire.” Y/N’s voice shook a little, she had never told anyone where she hid the letters before.

She couldn’t take them with her, if anyone ever found them there would be hell to pay. Burying them seemed like the only option and what better place than in their sanctuary. After she buried them she swore that she would never visit the lake again. About a week after she was told by her Father that she would be marrying Prince James within the next year. 

Bucky had listened to her story and his heart broke for her. He remembered all the times he thought he would never see Nat again while out in the trenches. All the time he was under heavy fire and prayed for some miracle to get him out of it. It made more and more sense now why she had such a hard time opening herself up to new people, especially him.

“I’m sorry, I get it now.” Bucky spoke softly. 

“Thankyou.” Y/N replied offering him a small smile. 

“Did you two have a favourite story in the end?” Bucky asked looking up at the stars. 

Y/N was honestly touched and surprised he had actually been listening to the story. 

“Hamlet I think, it was one we could talk about endlessly.” Y/N smiled at the memory of them. 

With that Bucky excused himself. Y/N simply thought he was allowing her sometime to herself before the big night. For the first time in a long time she let herself think of Loki and not feel too distraught about him.

The ball finally came around. All the Ladies and Lords, prime ministers and ambassadors seemed to be there. Y/N even got to finally see her Mother and Father, she knew she couldn’t but she wanted to so desperately run into her Mother's arms and stay there for the whole night. Instead she merely curtsied to them and shared a few dances with her Father. 

The party seemed to be in full swing, everyone took turns dancing with Y/N while they waited for Bucky to actually arrive. First Steve danced with her, always the gentleman, then Sam, then Pietro who kept remarking on how beautiful she looked tonight and if ‘Barnes screws up I’m more than happy to take his place.’ When Y/N was finally all danced out she sat down at one of the tables with Wanda and Natalia. 

“Do you think Bucky isn’t coming?” Wanda asked concerned. 

Nat and Y/N shared a look. Bucky had always been emotional and brash that after his and Y/N’s talk he could have decided to call off the whole engagement. As much as Y/N wished Nat and him could have a happy ending Y/N had to put her country first. Worry began to spread between the three when suddenly. 

“His Majesty Prince James.” The announcer beconned. 

Y/N looked up the the top of the room to see James and finally arrived. They made eye contact across the room and Bucky came practically bolting down the stairs towards her. Everyone watched the Prince cautiously, knowing what tonight was going to be. Bucky reached Y/N’s table and leaned down towards her. 

“Close your eyes and imagine his voice.” He whispered in her ear so only she would hear. 

Taking a fork and champagne glass he tapped the two together and the crowd instantly went silent. Bucky shot Y/N a look almost saying ‘Do you trust me?’. Y/N simply nodded and Bucky got down onto one knee as Y/N closed her eyes trying to remember Loki’s voice.

“I’ve never been good with words so I’ll leave summing up my love for Y/N to someone who is far better at it than me. Y/N, Doubt thou the stars are fire;Doubt that the sun doth move;Doubt truth to be a liar;But never doubt I love. I love you more with every book we read and every fire we light, will you do me the honor of becoming my Wife and my Queen?” 

“Yes.” Loki

Bucky got up from one knee and placed a small kiss on Y/N’s cheek. 

“Thankyou.” Y/N whispered back at him. 

The whole crowd cheered as the sight of the newly engaged couple. It turned out all those hours Bucky had been gone he was reading Hamlet trying to find the quote Y/N had mentioned when she told him about Loki. It was the start of friendship between Bucky and Y/N and understanding. That no matter who they gave their hearts to, their country would come first. A fondness grew between them over the years, they paved the way for a long and peaceful reign. When Y/N reached the age of 86 she passed away, Bucky buried his Queen back in her homeland by the lake she had told him about, along with a marked grave stone for Loki. The gravestone read, ‘Never Doubt that I love’.

[nosferatvpussy]

distorted lullabies [chapter VIII]

Word count:  5,459

Warnings: none

Pairing: Dracula x female reader

AO3 link

A/N: Not much Dracula in this chapter and I apologise for it! I'm trying to progress the story while keeping it entertaining. Still hope you can enjoy it. 

Also, as I was reviewing this I realised not everyone might get a reference I threw in there (you'll know when). If you're curious about what I'm referring to, just watch this clip at the 2:40 mark (do NOT watch it around other people).

____________________________________________________

My gaze crossed with his over the table. He took a knight between two fingers, hovering in the air in thought. The dull light of a cloudy day streamed in at our right, creating shadows on the chessboard and making the pieces look bigger than they actually were. My eyes flickered to the ticking clock next to the chess board and then back to his. He frowned at my smirk. The knight hung ominously over my remaining bishop and I raised an eyebrow.

“I taught you that,” Renfield complained, pointing his knight at me. “It doesn’t work on me.”

The clock chimed, signaling that his time was over. I gave him a toothy grin as he stared in shock at the sequence of zeros on display. With his clock zeroed, mine started counting down from 3 minutes. 

“Doesn’t it?” I giggled, plucking the white knight from between his limp fingers and placing on the square it had been before. I pushed a black rook forward across the chessboard very slowly, the prospect of victory swelling inside me and making me outright laugh at the defeat on his face. I knocked the knight I’d just placed with my piece, leaving nothing in between his king and my rook. Renfield pressed the bridge of his nose with two fingers and swore as I retrieved the downed piece. “Good luck getting out of this. Check.”

I clicked the button on top of my clock to finish my move. Renfield stiffened, shooting me a cold look.

“When did you get so devious?”

“Don’t be a sore loser. You won all the past matches! This loss will be good for you, you’ll learn humility.”

“Funny,” he said, although he didn’t laugh, shifting his calculating eyes back to the chessboard.

Renfield supported an elbow on the table, fingers resting on his temple, like he was conspiring against a prosecution. I blinked, trying to stop the smile that threatened to overcome my mouth. Were it not for the sterile environment and the annoying ambient music, I could’ve thought we were back at work. My phone buzzed on top of the table, attracting both of our gazes. 

“Is that Count Dracula?” He inquired, gaze focused on the chessboard again, doing an excellent job of sounding uninterested. 

“Of course not, it’s ten in the morning,” I said as I reached for the mobile. “Isn’t he supposed to be in his cof--uh, bed?” I corrected, glancing at the nurse, Margaret, sitting not far from us. She had her head buried in a magazine but every once in a while I would catch her leaning her ear closer.

“He’s got a regular bed, Y/N,” he murmured, rolling his eyes. 

I unlocked my phone.

“I know. It was a j--” 

“Oh, do you?”

“Are you twelve?” I snapped and Renfield giggled, only reinforcing my suspicion. “Time is flying,” I indicated the chessboard and Renfield stopped laughing. I blew out a breath as I read the text that had made my phone buzz. “Since when is Evelyn getting married?”

“She sent the invites ages ago.”

“She did?” I raised my eyebrows, trying to remember if I’d seen it in my pile of mail back at home. “We work in the same office. Couldn’t she have hand delivered it?” He shot me a look. “I see what you mean. She thinks she’s bloody Posh Spice.”

Renfield’s hand stopped mid-air, on his way to move a rook but changed his mind at the last second, tapping his temple again. 

“Who?”

“Oh, you’ll get on my case about Dracula like you’re a schoolgirl but don’t know who Posh Spice is?” 

Nurse Margaret snickered, raising her magazine to conceal her affected grin, only confirming my suspicion that she could hear snippets of our conversation.

“The Beckham girl, of course I know,” Renfield glanced at Margaret, furrowing his brow. “I was very absorbed in my game and wasn’t listening,” he uttered the last bit louder, staring directly at the nurse. Her face became as red as a tomato. She skittered up from the couch she’d been sitting on, moving swiftly towards the nurse station on the other side of the room. Once she was out of earshot, Renfield said, “Is Evelyn asking you to RSVP?”

“Do I have to?” I grimaced. “The wedding isn’t even in London. I don’t like her and I have to travel all the way to Berkeley?”

“You know you have to.”

“Maybe I’ll get the flu. An aneurysm, if I’m lucky!”

“Her surname is on our calling card, Y/N.”

“Damn it.”

Renfield just looked at me and I slumped down on my chair. It didn’t matter if I was winning at chess when I was absolutely being defeated in this subject. I couldn’t not go to Evelyn Seymour’s wedding, the only remaining direct descendant of Edward Seymour, one of our firm’s original founders in 1821. Her surname was first in line when talking about the most prestigious law firm in London, followed by Sterling and May. From birth, she had a seat reserved for her at the firm, her birthright if I wanted to get poetic about it. Although her surname didn’t instantly grant her power over the entire business, she treated everyone like it did and that was precisely why I didn’t like her. My arrogance was an easily dispensed front but Evelyn’s owed hers to bad parenting, if I had to guess. 

“I can’t go, obviously. I imagine all the other partners will be there, except me,” Renfield sighed and set the piece he had on his fingers to the side. He leaned forward, peering at me over his spectacles. “It’s only proper that you go to represent me,” he lifted a hand before I could protest. “Yes, you. Y/N, you’re my sole pupil I’ve taken in 30 years at that firm and only because the other partners forced me to,” he scoffed. “I was less than happy with this at the beginning, as you well know, but it’s the one thing I can be proud of in my many years of practise. As I’ve been told by many people, I’m uncaring, rude and outright despicable at times. I struggle to find many redeeming qualities in myself, although you seem to pick them out effortlessly. Somehow, under my tutelage you’ve grown to be a brilliant lawyer and, while all credit can’t be mine, I believe I’ve had a finger at shaping you into the person you’re today, which is infinitely better than me,” he cleared his throat and removed his spectacles, suddenly interested in cleaning its lenses on his shirt. “Regardless of what’s come between us, I will have nobody else representing me at that wretched woman’s wedding. It will serve her well, too, for spurning you for so many years. Let’s not spare her our spite, shall we? Do try and sneak a picture of her face at the wedding party when you sit at the partners’ table. It will do wonders for my recovery.”

I used my ring fingers to tap the inner corners of my eyes, containing the tears that threatened to spill over. 

“Damn you,” I sniveled and laughed.

“Yes, well. I had to say something to convince you to go. Did it work?”

That, that was the Frank Renfield I knew. He had to still be in there, whole. His eyes were just blue, without a trace of otherness behind them as he spoke, and I grappled onto that to remain firm on my quest against Count Dracula, no matter how unlikely the odds against me.

“Of course it bloody worked. Will you try to kill me again if I give you a hug?”

He put his spectacles on, summoning a serious expression although his eyes were still welled up. 

“Let me win this match and I’ll do it. No promises if I lose.”

“Do your best, then,” I smiled, gesturing to the board. 

He averted his gaze to each of our pieces, analysing their positions. I left him to his devices while I typed a text back to Evelyn.

“Do you have a dress in mind?”

“Um,” I made, scrolling the screen up to check when the ceremony began. A twilight wedding should be pretty. It wasn’t the easiest time of day to choose a dress befitting of it, though. Not too fancy and not too simple wasn’t something one usually found in London’s evening wear stores. “I might have to go and get one.”

“Wear purple. It’s Evelyn’s favourite colour and she’ll be wearing white on her wedding day. Imagine her face--”

“Christ, you’re a teenage girl. How have I never noticed it before?”

“I’d been reading celebrity magazines before you brought me my books. They got to me. I’m still not over their effects, it seems,” he shuddered.

I chuckled and sent the text to Evelyn, confirming I would be there.

“Purple it is then. It’s not like she doesn’t deserve it. I’ll see if Diana wants to go with me, I’ll make her wear purple, too.”

I put my phone aside just in time to see Renfield’s next move. 

“I heard that Evelyn’s fiancée is rich but not the most fetching gent. If you really want to send her into fits, take Count Dracula as your plus one. Checkmate.”

My mouth fell open as I watched him replace my king with a pawn. A pawn, of all things. I glanced between the chessboard and Renfield’s conceited grin, trying to find out how on Earth he managed to pull that off. Had I not taken that pawn into account? 

“Sneaky bastard,” I said, stunned. “I wanted a win!”

“Better luck next time, I guess. At least you get a hug as a consolation prize.”

I looked at him, shaking my head.

“I’ll take it but what I’ll not take is Count Dracula to the wedding, no matter how much I want to annoy Evelyn.”

Renfield leaned back on his chair, tapping his fingers on the edge of the table. 

“You’re still resisting him?”

“Please, don’t sound surprised,” I frowned. “You know I don’t take well to being underestimated.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t offend you like that,” he gave me a smile which disappeared a second later. “Frankly, I’m more surprised that he hasn’t just taken you for himself,” his voice grew thicker as he spoke.

“He won’t do that unless I give him consent.”

“And you think he won’t break that deal of yours if he grows tired of waiting?” he tilted his head like a bug.

I narrowed my eyes. His eyes had lost the bright shine that I was so used to seeing, especially when we were in court, and acquired a dreary gleam that immediately sent a shiver through me. I could only suppose that my refusal to take Count Dracula as my plus one was what set him off. From now on, I presumed that whatever I told him would be reported to his “master” so I had to choose my words with diligence.

“I’d like to think he respects me enough to keep to our deal.” 

Renfield chortled, a sound so unnatural to him that I almost doubted it came out of his throat.

“I do wonder,” he started between a few more laughs, “how is it that you manage to resist him. I thought it virtually impossible.”

“There’s a disconnect, I think, between mind and body for whatever concerns Count Dracula. My body responds in one way,” my mouth went dry as I thought about his mouth on my neck and I shook my head, “but I’m still quite capable of seeing what he is.”

“Which is?”

“I don’t have to explain it to you, do I? You told me that you have love for him,” I said and he nodded, “if that’s so, you love everything in him, even the worst parts. People love the whole while acknowledging the bad and choose to ignore it. So you know that he’s a manipulative monster who has killed hundreds, perhaps thousands of people simply for the fun of it and--” I interrupted myself before I got carried away by my bitterness.

I shut my eyes, taking a moment to allow the rising wave of emotion to settle. The tightening on my throat told me there was more than bitterness but I wouldn’t trouble myself with exploring what that meant. Not now in front of Renfield. 

“Y/N,” Renfield said my name with such gentleness that my eyes shot open and when I stared at him, I was met with the dark blue eyes I had grown accustomed to. He had leaned forward, an open hand extended to me over the table. I put my hand in his without a second thought. “I understand that it’s hard but do yourself a favour and surrender. Surrender with arms wide open or he’ll hurt you and those around you. Listen to me. He will. He might shower you with what you think is affection and perhaps you’ll find yourself falling for him,” he squeezed my hand in his when I started shaking my head in denial, “but at some point he’ll become impatient if you keep stalling and he’ll do it. There is no way out.”

“I know,” my voice didn’t come out, so I tried again, “I know.”

People were supposed to have choices. And while I didn’t want to be hurt more than I already was, I had to try. I had to be free of Count Dracula. If what Renfield said was true, how could I possibly be with someone who was just as willing to care for me as he was to hurt me? 

My phone rang. Recognising Zoe’s number, I grabbed it and stood up. My hand and Renfield’s were still joined and I used it as leverage to bring him into a hug, forcing him to stand up. He stiffened for a second but then his arms went around me, patting my back awkwardly. His heart beat steadily and I smiled into the hug.

“See you later,” I said as I stepped back, holding tightly to his forearms. “I’ve got to run to lunch with a friend.”

“It’s still early.”

“It’s on the other side of London,” I lied. “You’re doing better. Keep doing whatever it is they have you doing here.”

“Not like I have a choice,” he said.

I almost asked him if he even wanted a choice since he was a willing slave but decided against it by giving him a smile and leaving. 

________________________________________________

“News?” Zoe asked me as she organised vials inside her briefcase.

I rolled down my sleeve and let my hair down now that we were done doing ‘business’. I settled myself on a more comfortable position which wasn’t difficult since Zoe’s car was the epitome of comfort.

“He came by,” I said, putting on my courtroom face. Zoe whipped her head around towards me, frowning. “Out of nowhere. It’s not like I could have told him to hold on and call you.”

“Where did he take you?”

“We stayed in and watched telly.”

“Watched telly? That’s it?” She questioned, closing her briefcase and letting it slide to her feet, near the car’s pedals. I shrugged. “You swear?”

Her disapproving tone reminded me of my mother’s and I scowled.

“I have no reason to lie to you.”

“You have every reason to lie to me. Last time we met, you told me there was a bond between you two. Had I known this in the first place, I would--”

“Would what? Waste a perfectly good opportunity to capture Dracula because of a damned bond that’s not even my fault?” I raised my eyebrows at her and she pressed her lips in a fine line. “I’m not on his side. Or yours, for that matter. I could care less about the importance of your research, Zoe. I haven’t questioned the Jonathan Harker Foundation, have I? It’s shady business but it’s not my business. All I want is to be out of danger.” A tiny part of me questioned where would be the fun in that and I pushed it aside. That had to be the bond making its presence known. “We watched films together. Period.”

I stared at Zoe, waiting for her to chew on that.

There was no need for her to know about what happened halfway through Interview with the Vampire. Or about him carrying me to bed. After my encounter with Renfield, I wanted to forget how lovely it felt, sleeping on the Count’s arms. Dracula hadn’t done that for anyone’s benefit except his. I had to understand that.

“I don’t know if what I’m about to say will make you happy, considering-- nevermind,” Zoe shook her head. “With the samples you’ve been giving me, I’m close to synthesizing a pill that can possibly block his access to a person’s memories.”

“Possibly?”

“We’re still in initial stages of trials but it’s not like we can be certain of anything without the Count in our custody. However, I’m almost sure this pill will definitely work on you since it's being manufactured based on your genetic data.”

“Possibly and almost won’t keep him from killing me if he is able to read my memories.”

“We’re working on it, Y/N,” Zoe bit out. “One of the side effects, however, is short term memory loss. It only lasts for as long as the pill’s in effect but I’m doing my best to mitigate it.”

“What are the other side effects?”

“Heartburn, headache and mild paranoia, usually specific to loud sounds. So far that’s what we’ve got from our human subjects. None of those symptoms last very long either,” she paused, examining me. “Does Count Dracula trust you?”

“I don’t think he trusts anyone. I think he regards me… differently… than he does other people.”

“Why do you think that?”

I thought about the haunting sorrow I’d seen in Count Dracula’s eyes when he spoke about his late wife and how he immediately shut down after that. I doubted he had told many people about her.

“I just do,” I shrugged. “How long until you can give me this pill?”

“A month, if nothing goes wrong. You’d be willing to use it?”

“Can you get it ready in two weeks?”

“Two weeks! Why?”

I took a deep breath for what I was about to say.

“There’ll be a wedding, up in Berkeley. It’ll be in Berkeley Castle--”

“Huge place.”

“Exactly. I’ll take Count Dracula as my plus one. Everyone will be focused on the party and there’ll be plenty of opportunities for you to capture him--”

“We haven’t planned anything, Y/N,” Zoe interrupted, shaking her head vehemently. “It’s too soon. No, no. Absolutely not. We’ll get killed, not to say about the possible collateral damage with the guests. No.”

“We won’t get many chances like this,” the words stumbled out of my mouth in my hurry to get them out before I regretted this. “Berkeley is our best bet. Dracula will be distracted. I’ll do my very best to guarantee it. I’ll even pull a Sharon Stone if I have to. Just, please.”

“Y/N, no. I told you. It took months of planning until we could move on him and get him out of the sea. This has to be rehearsed. We would need a team of people infiltrated at the wedding, a deep knowledge of the property, not to mention contingencies set in place… It’s too much work for only two weeks.”

“I don’t care!” I slapped my thigh in frustration. “I’ll be hanging on his arm all night. If he senses something is off, I’ll know and we drop the plan. We’ve got to try.”

Zoe frowned at me.

“Why are you suddenly so desperate?”

I straightened on my seat and cleared my throat. 

“He’ll grow bored of me, eventually,” I said, remembering Renfield’s sudden sympathy. “There’s no way we can know when, so I’d like to be rid of him sooner rather than later. If we wait too long I might be having this same conversation with you in a few months except I’ll have fangs on my mouth. Or not at all, in which case I’ll be six feet under.”

If I was to take everything Renfield said into account, it scared me. However, I was more frightened at the idea of losing control over the bond. Losing control over myself. From day one, sordid ideas about Count Dracula drinking my blood had pestered me. Whenever I was around him I found myself captivated by him, almost beyond reasoning. Like I always had an unseen force pushing me towards him and consuming me with nothing except raw craving. Never in my entire life had I felt such forceful desire and it terrified me. The leash, as Count Dracula had put it so well at the museum, could break at any second and I wasn’t ready for it to happen yet.

“Get your phone,” Zoe said at last.

“What for?”

“To see if we can find clear pictures of Berkeley Castle’s grounds and decide on a possible course of action,” Zoe said matter-of-factly as she secured her hair on a ponytail.

The turmoil inside me calmed down, for the most part. 

“So we’re doing it?”

“Only, and only if I can have this pill done by then. If not, I’m calling it off.”

I flashed her a smile as I pulled my phone from my back pocket.

“I’ll take that.”

“Were you serious when you said that about Sharon Stone? About the Basic Instinct thing?” Zoe made a face but there was nothing in her eyes if not amusement. 

“God, no,” I said and she raised an eyebrow. “Last resort thing only, if it comes to that.”

Zoe laughed, shaking her head to the sides at me.

“I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Me, too.”

As our laughter died down, we dove into every website we could find that had pictures of Berkeley Castle. We struck gold when the property’s floor plan and aerial view simply popped up during our Google search. According to Berkeley Castle’s own website, wedding ceremonies usually took place in the Great Hall or outside on the gardens. The reception was almost always hosted inside the castle.

Zoe’s phone ringing momentarily interrupted us. Gaze still focused on my phone’s screen, she answered her own without checking who the caller was.

“Hello?” Zoe stiffened at once, listening to whatever the person on the other end of the line was saying. “Jack. Jack. Jack, calm down, I can’t understand you,” the voice grew loud enough for me to make out the words “friends”, “Foundation” and “suicide”. I remained focused on my phone, scrolling through pictures, like I hadn’t heard anything. “No, I didn’t know. Where are you? Okay, stay there. I’m on my way and then we’ll talk.”

After more reassurances, Zoe ended the call and looked at me.

“Go. We can do this some other time,” I told her. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. Well, no. No. One of my students at the Foundation,” she gestured to her phone, “needs me. An emergency. I have to go. Now, actually.”

She would’ve made a terrible lawyer. Terrible voice pitch when she lied and with the way she babbled, she would be eaten alive in a courtroom. I would’ve wiped the floor with her. From what I could tell, this was the first time I had caught her in a lie and I wondered why now. I could ascribe it to the dodginess surrounding anything to do with the Foundation but my intuition told me there was more to it. 

Prying would probably result in more lies. 

“Of course,” I said, flashing her a brief smile, “I understand. Call me when you can.”

______________________________________________________________

My ears buzzed inside the lift as I tried to keep my courtroom face on. I couldn’t wait to get home and sit in silence to cleanse my head from an entire day listening to office gossip.

“I’ve got this lovely dress,” Mallory was saying, “It’s this really beautiful champagne colour--”

“Isn’t that the one you wore to Jamie’s wedding?” Sarah asked.

“You can’t wear a dress you already wore before,” said Chelsea with a sneer.

Mallory furrowed her brows, looking anxious. 

“I remember the dress,” I intervened in Mallory’s defense. “It’s very pretty. You shouldn’t keep it hidden in your wardrobe, Mal. Wear it. I’m sure nobody will be rude enough to ask you about it,” I looked pointedly at Sarah.

“No,” Mallory countered and both women stared at her. “It’s another one. I happen to like the colour, is that a crime?” she asked indignantly. Sarah shrugged. Mallory eyed me, “Do you know what you’re wearing, Y/N?”

I’d gone shopping two days earlier with Diana during my lunch break. She’d pouted when I said I couldn’t take her as my plus one but immediately dropped the act in favour of a smile upon hearing the name Count Dracula come out of my mouth. 

“The Count? The one that gave you the hickey?” she’d whispered the last part during dinner at her house on Sunday.

“The very same,” I’d replied. Little did she know the extent of that hickey.

“Dating royalty, Y/N--”

“Drop it, Di. Will you do me the honours of going dress hunting with me? It must be purple.”

“Purple?”

“Evelyn’s favourite colour.”

“Oh, you’re evil!” She’d laughed. “We’ll find the perfect dress. You’ll look so gorgeous that he’ll faint when he sees you.”

Diana’s excitement over my love affairs had made me wonder if I was so much of a lost cause that any person remotely interested in me should be celebrated with buying an evening dress. On Wednesday, we’d browsed half the stores in Strand before Diana convinced me to hop on the tube towards Belgravia with the promise of gorgeous boutiques in which I would definitely find a dress to my liking. Diana got to flex her marketing muscles to persuade me into getting the one I liked the most, despite the steep price. She’d taken the dress home with her so I wouldn’t have to return to the office with it. 

“L/N?” Mallory touched my shoulder.

“Oh, sorry. I zoned out thinking about all the dresses in my wardrobe,” I blinked at her. “I’m not sure what to wear yet.”

“You should make up your mind quickly, then,” Sarah said in her usual brisk manner. “We’re one week away from Evie’s wedding.”

Evie, right, like they were friends. Of all the women, Mallory was the only one who could call herself Evelyn’s friend and, sadly, between her, Sarah and Chelsea, she was the one I most got along with. Mal and I had started our internships at around the same time and we’d suffered through college together, too. We barely talked now that she’d gotten close to Evelyn. I’d stopped being Y/N to her and became simply L/N.

The lift finally opened and we spilled out. Freedom! I thought, tightening my pace towards the lobby and putting as much distance between me and my colleagues. Through the exit doors, I could see the last rays of sunshine reflecting on the glass plated buildings that seemed to be a requirement at Canary Wharf.

“We’re renting an Airbnb together in Berkeley,” Mallory said, catching up with me. “Me and the girls. It’ll be cheaper that way.”

“Okay…”

“There’s a spare bedroom,” she continued, swiping her baby blonde hair that had fallen on her face in her effort to keep up with me. 

“Oh,” I blinked, stopping abruptly in front of the exit. Mallory nearly tripped over me. “You’re inviting me to stay with you guys?”

“Yeah,” she paused. “I know you aren’t fond of them but you can ignore what they say. It’s what I do half the time I’m with them.”

“Then, why do you spend so much time with them?”

“Trying to climb the ladder, professionally speaking,” she shrugged. “All of you guys were trained by one of the firm’s partners except me. All my efforts go unnoticed because of it.”

“Mal, you could’ve just kept talking to me if that’s what you wanted,” I frowned. “Renfield would--”

“Not a chance. Renfield doesn’t like anybody at the office except you.”

I acquiesced with a shrug. I loved the man but he wasn’t the nicest person to people.

“I’ll think about the Airbnb,” I told Mallory.

Me in a house full of girls when I had a vampire on my heels? Big no. But after years of distance from one of my best friends, I wasn’t going to simply dismiss her because I didn’t like the people she socialised with.

“You still like going to Camden for drinks? Peace offering?”

“Peace offering,” I grinned.

Mallory laced her arm with mine and led the way out. I frowned up at the sky, searching the rays of sun I’d seen moments ago but all I found was cloud upon cloud upon cloud. Hearing the rushing pair of high heels towards us made me cringe and stop on the sidewalk.

“Girls!” Shouted Chelsea. “Did we hear something about drinks?”

“I’ll get rid of them,” Mallory whispered to me in an exasperated tone before putting on a blinding smile and turning to face Chelsea and Sarah.

As Mallory tried to talk them out of it, a sleek black BMW slid to a stop in front of me. I had little more than two seconds to take in the tinted windows, dark enough to make me wonder if they were inside the legal limits, before the passenger's window started going down. The voices behind me quieted as the driver leaned across the seat. He had sunglasses on but I’d recognise that face anywhere. I bent forward, leaning on the car’s door.

“You had to get the flashiest car available, didn’t you?” 

“Oh, dear, no,” Dracula drawled. “The flashiest one was yellow. Black suits me better.”

“Um, Y/N… Who’s that?” Chelsea’s flirty tone made me roll my eyes.

“An impertinent client,” I said without turning to look at her.

“Is that what I am?” 

“Amongst other things that shouldn’t be spoken out loud,” I muttered.

“Your client?” asked Sarah. “L/N, are you breaking the code of ethics?”

“Renfield’s client,” I corrected, glancing briefly at Sarah. 

When I looked back at Dracula, he was grinning.

“Hello, ladies,” he waved at them, eliciting giggles. If I hadn’t known them for years, I wouldn’t have guessed they were adult women considering their behaviour. “Is that jealousy I see?” he said in a low voice. 

“You wish,” I retorted. In a whisper, I said, “It’s still daylight. Aren’t you going to burst into flames?”

“I might if you don’t get in the car.”

“Tempting. I’ll just stay here.”

“Stay, then. The sun will set in precisely seven minutes and when it does, I’ll get out of this car.”

“And do what?”

“Right now, throwing you over my shoulder seems appropriate.”

My knees quivered at that thought. I had to learn to stop baiting him into conversations like these. At some point, he would carry out his threats and I would probably enjoy it, which wasn’t ideal if I wanted to come out of this breathing.

“Um, Y/N?” Mallory’s voice was a gift sent from heaven to make me look away from the Count. “Do you want to postpone our drinks or--”

“Oh, drinks? Where are we going?” 

“There’s no we--” I glared at him.

He smiled innocently, surprising me that he was actually able to.

“Camden, I hear,” Sarah chimed in.

“Lovely Camden! Why don’t I give you ladies a ride?”

“I’m okay with that,” Sarah said, followed by Chelsea’s nod.

I already had a flimsy hold over my own libido, I wouldn’t attempt trying to control Chelsea’s and Sarah’s too. As much as I didn’t like them, I wouldn’t wish Count Dracula on them. With that in mind, I flung open the BMW’s door and threw myself in. 

“Maybe some other time, girls. He’s mine,” I announced, already regretting my choice of words. Turning to Mallory, I said in an apologetic tone, “Lunch tomorrow so we can catch up?”

She grinned at me, glancing briefly at Count Dracula, who was most definitely staring at the back of my head. 

“Sure,” she affirmed with a wink. “Bye.”

I was still waving at her when Dracula accelerated, leaving his parking spot. I stared out the window without registering where we were headed, waiting. Tension grew until I began feeling smothered. 

“What’s that about me being yours?”  

I shut my eyes and threw my head back against my seat. 

“Just… shut up.”

.

.

I know it's a bit mean that I ended the chapter there but I didn't have any time left to write. I'll try posting chapter 9 earlier next week (wednesday or thursday, maybe) to make it up to everyone.

Taglist: @rheabalaur​ @festering-queen​ @feralstare​ @girlonfireice​ @deborahlazaroff​ @thorin-smokin-shield​ @mr-kisskiss-bangbang​ @dreamer2381​ @apocalypsenowish​ @a-dorky-book-keeper​

[blueeyedgeorgie]

Close My Eyes (3)

I close my eyes and I make believe You’re the one that’s holding me…

Gif cred. @sdmngifs​

Pairing: WillNE x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k+

Pronouns: She/Her

_______________

Will had found himself sitting at the island of his kitchen, looking through his camera roll. He had been going through old memories of him and Y/n, photos from forever ago. Will paused his scrolling when he had come across a certain photo. It had been taken at an after-party of a friend’s wedding. Will and Y/n had both been invited, so of course they had spent time together at the wedding. The photo was of Will holding Y/n up in bridal style as he stood by a view of a beautiful city sparkling in the night. Y/n had wrapped her arms around Will’s neck and had leaned her head against his chest, looking up at him as the photo had been taken. Will remembered feeling his heartbeat increase that exact moment Y/n had leaned her head against his chest in the photo. “Will!” The brunette had flinched at the sound of his name being called along with the sound of his front door opening. Y/n? The h/c girl had walked into the room with tears streaming down her face. Will’s heart broke at the sight of her. Without hesitation, Will stood up, pulling y/n into his arms.  Immediately, Will could feel his shirt beginning to become damp from Y/n’s tears. “It’s alright, n/n. I’ve got you,” Will muttered softly, brushing a hand through her h/c hair. After a few moments, Y/n had finally calmed down. “Everett got mad at me,” She whimpered softly into the crook of Will’s neck. ‘Of course he did,’ Will thought to himself bitterly. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” “I was watching the latest Eboys video,” Y/n mumbled gently. Will tensed, had she already seen the clip James made? “And Everett saw and got mad at me, so he took my phone away,” Y/n had summed up her story quickly. Will gently grabbed Y/n’s shoulders, moving back so he could look at her in the eyes. Her eyes had gone red from crying so hard, she was sniffling. 'God, she looks so broken. Why can’t she just see Everett isn’t the one for her?’ “Y/n, he shouldn’t have the right to take your phone away from you like that. Just because to pair of you are engaged doesn’t mean that he has the right to take your belongings away as a punishment,” Will spoke in a tone of sternness. Y/n only gave a small nod, wiping a tear away. “Alright, let’s get you cleaned up,” Will let out a small sigh. Y/n sat at the kitchen island as Will had gotten Y/n some tissue to wipe her tears away and a glass of water. 'God, why can’t she see I can treat her so much better?’ Will continued to think to himself as he watched Y/n down her glass of water. “You feeling better now?” The brunette let out a soft sigh, leaning against the island as he watched the girl. “Yeah,” Y/n broke out a small smile. “I don’t wanna go back right now.” 'Right now? Is she seriously going to stay together with that jackass?’ “You don’t have to, you can stay here as long as you’d like, you’re always welcome,” Will had smiled back at her. “You wanna watch some Netflix or something else?” “Sure,” Y/n replied, already heading out of the kitchen. After a couple of moments of looking through what Netflix had to offer, a loud banging had come from the front door. “He’s here,” Y/n whimpered, curling up to Will. 'Please tell me you’re gonna break up with him if he scares you this bad.’ Without a word, Will stood up and made his way to the door. Glancing through the peephole, the person on the other side of the door was the exact person Will despised. Everett fucking Conway. Will opened the door wide enough for there to be a crack. “Open the fucking door, Lenney!” Conway shouted, banging on the door once again. “I can and will call security,” Will snapped in a dead-serious tone. “Give me my wife back,” Conway snarled, refusing to stop banging on the door. “She’s a human being, and her name is Y/n,” Will replied, showing no emotion. “Just let her come out, I know you’re keeping her hidden away,” Conway was seething at this point, he was beyond angry. “I’m here, Everett,” Y/n called out with a long sigh. “I’ll be out in a few moments.” “Fine, say your goodbyes because you won’t be coming back to this shit hole,” Conway snapped, stepping back from the front door. Will gently closed the door, turning to Y/n. “You’re seriously not going to leave with that jackass, are you?” “I’m sorry, Will,” Y/n mumbled, walking over to Will. “I’m engaged to him.” “Then just call off the engagement, Y/n. Do you constantly want to live your life crying and feeling like shit?” Will brushed a hand through his hair. “It’ll get better, I know it will. I have hope… we’re just in a rocky situation right now,” Y/n whispered, looking down at the ground. Will placed a finger, under Y/n’s chin, making her look up. “Keep your head up, n/n. I promise I’ll try making things better for you.” Y/n quickly wrapped her arms around Will’s neck, pulling him in for a hug. Will wrapped his arms around y/n’s waist, pulling her closer as he bit his lip. Quickly, y/n tried to stand up taller, placing a kiss on Will’s cheek. “Love you, Will,” Y/n mumbled pulling away. “Love you too,” Will’s voice cracked. Y/n flashed a small smile to him as she opened the front door, slipping out of Will’s sight. Will hadn’t gotten any sign from Y/n. Was she alright? It had been only a couple of days after she had left his home with Conway. As soon as she had left, Will had gone to call up the boys to tell them about what Conway had done. George was fuming, Alex was worried, and James was anxious. After a long call with Will, where George had just wasted time cussing out Conway, he had offered up the idea of going out to a pub the next Friday. Of course Alex and James had been invited, and of course they had accepted.

The brunette had sat in an alleyway, a bottle of Stella being held in the grasp of his left hand. Will needed a breather, the dimly lit pub and smell of alcohol was not a setting he had wanted to waste the entire night away at. The back door leading to the alleyway had opened, revealing a brunette man with blue eyes walking out. George. “So this is where you’ve been,” George let out a sigh, sitting down by his mate. He pulled a reusable vape, turning it on. “Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to go out to a pub tonight,” Will replied, glancing at his friend. “You need to try and get your mind off of her, Will. Yes, n/n isn’t in the right place at the moment, but it’s up to her to get herself out of there because we’ve already shown her the warning signs, she’s just refusing to accept them,” George had explained as nicotine smoke blew through his nostrils. “You’re just saying that because you’re buzzed,” Will replied, taking another swig of his beer. “Not at all mate,” George let out a chuckle as he used his nicotine machine for a second time. “I can last a couple of too many beers before I actually get buzzed. As for you… you definitely seem buzzed.” “Alright, I may have a slight buzz going on,” Will nodded, finishing off his beer. “I’m gonna head back inside,” George spoke with another sigh as he stood up. “Come inside when you’re ready.” “Will do.” It had only been a few moments after George had gone back into the pub when something had caught Will’s attention. There had been footsteps, people where walking into the alleyway. There was a group of men, none of them spoke to each other. Cautiously, Will pulled out his phone, placing the empty beer bottle next to him. He stood up as they got closer, something felt wrong. He had turned on his heels, trying to not make a big deal out of himself. But his first mistake was to turn his back on these men.

“Where’s Will?!” Alex called out loud enough for James and George to hear him. “I was just outside with him a second ago. He’s in the alleyway on the right side of the pub,” George replied in the same loud tone Alex had used. “Alright, I’m going to go check up on him,” Alex spoke before beginning to make his way towards the side door exit. As soon as Alex had opened the door he felt his blood go cold. There Will was… being jumped by four random men. Quickly, Alex ran back inside, pushing past people, only to receive “Hey’s!” and “Rude!” “George! James! We need to get to Will now!” Alex yelled as soon as he got into the earshot of his friends. “What’s going on?!” George asked as he was already getting out of his chair. “Will’s being jumped!” The trio had quickly made their out into the alleyway, only to discover the group of men were still there, huddled around Will. “Hey!” George shouted. The men looked up to see the trio, only to begin running out of the alleyway. “Hey!” George exclaimed for a second time, beginning to run after the group, leaving Alex and James to deal with Will. Luckily, he was still alive, and he wasn’t in the worst shape he could be. He did have few bruises here and there, a busted lip, and a black eye but at least he wasn’t hurt any worse.

George had finally come back after giving up on chasing the assholes that had hurt Will. The boys had easily decided to call it a night and get inured brunette home. Will sat on his couch, a bag of ice held to his bruised eye. By this time the boys had already headed back to their flats. He had already tweeted out to his fans that he’d be going on a short hiatus, there was no way for him to film videos without worrying anybody. He now stared at Y/n’s contact. Should he call her and tell her about everything? Should he just send her a good night text? What if he just deleted her contact? Without thinking, Will pressed the call button and brought it up to his ear. Only after a few moments of hearing the phone ring, Y/n could be heard. “Hey.” “Hey, n/n… I gotta talk to you about something,” Will let out a soft sigh. “Of course,” Y/n whispered. “You can always talk to me.” “I really care about you.” “I care about you too, Will,” Y/n had let out a soft giggle. 'God, her giggle is so fucking adorable,’ Will thought to himself with a small sigh. “No, I mean… I love you, Y/n.” “I love you too, Will.” 'This is gonna be tougher than I thought.’ “No-I… I wanna be your boyfriend. I fucking hate Everett, I despise him. I’ve always had feelings for you, Y/n. I love you so much and I hate seeing you cry over Conway. He treats you horribly. I just wish I could call you mine and that I could always protect you. I wanna keep you close and treat you how you should be treated. You deserve so much more than what you have now and I want to give it all to you. I just love you so much, you don’t understand,” Will had spilled his secret out without thinking. At this point he hadn’t cared anymore, he just couldn’t handle hearing her say 'I love you.’ The call went silent, not a word from Y/n. “I-” “I’m sorry, Will… I have to go.” Before it was even possible for Will to mutter out a small 'goodbye’, the call had been ended. Without thinking, Will stood up, tossing his phone across the room before tears began to stream down his bruised face.

It had only been a couple of days after Will’s call with Y/n. He was heartbroken. He had spilled his deepest secret to her, only to have her end the call as quickly as possible. “I’m sorry, Will… I have to go.” Her words were ringing in his head. It hurt. At this point Will didn’t even want to go on the internet, in fear of stumbling across a fan edit or post about them. Will found himself lying in bed, buried underneath his comforter. He had been trying to sleep as much as possible, just to keep his mind off of everything that had been happening recently. Just as he was about to doze off for the millionth time, something pulled him out of his daze. His phone began to ring. Maybe it was Y/n. Maybe she was calling to talk about what he said. Maybe he could apologize and ask if they could pretend it never happened. Maybe he could convince her that he had been drunk that night. Will sat up, pushing his comforter off of him looking to his nightstand.  A random phone number was shown on his phone. Maybe it was still Y/n. She could be using someone else’s phone. Cautiously, Will picked up the phone, the ringing stopping as he held the phone to his ear. There was a pause of silence. “Y/n?” “You truly are infatuated with my wife, Lenney.” Will’s grip on his phone tightened. “What do you want, Conway?” “I wanted to tell you to stop talking to Y/n. Ignore her, push her out of your life.” Will felt his chest tighten. “Why would I do that?” “Because if you don’t worse will come to you.” “You sent a stupid gang of men to jump me,” Will let out a breath as he had quickly realized why he had been attacked the other night. “Yes, that was a warning,” Everett had snickered. “Now you listen to me, push Y/n away or worse is to come.” “Oh sure,” Will snapped. “I don’t think there’s anything much worse than being attacked in an alleyway in the middle of the night.” “But what if it involves Y/n?” Will froze. He wasn’t going to… hurt her, right? Y/n was his fiance after all, why would he want to hurt someone he’s in a relationship with? “You’re not gonna hurt her, you wouldn’t dare to,” Will sneered, his grip on his phone had tightened as hard as possible. “Don’t test me.” “It’s disgusting to know you’d even consider putting your hands on a woman,” Will seethed. “Oh, I won’t. As long as you stay away,” A dark chuckle could be heard through the phone. “You’re a horrible person.” “I’ll take that as a grain of salt.” Will hung up. He was fuming. Y/n deserved so much better than that fake excuse of a man. But now he couldn’t even get in contact with her or something would happen to her, and it wouldn’t be pretty.

[shedreamsofstars]

our union is a secret i’m hoping, dreaming, lying to keep - chapter seven

you’ve all heard of ‘pretending to be married when you’re not’, now get ready for ‘actually married but pretending you’re not’

When Tohru and Kyo accidentally find themselves married, they must keep their new union a secret from their friends and family. That’s easier said than done when you’re both newlywed dorks who just want to spend some quality time with one another whilst said friends and family are always one step away from discovering the truth.

start from the beginning | previous chapter | next chapter

Tohru had been off ever since Shigure and Akito left.

She hadn't mentioned anything in particular to him, but Kyo knew something was bothering her. He leaned in the doorway, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched her silently rearrange the cushions on the sofa.

It was nothing out of the ordinary, Tohru loved keeping things organised after all, but the fact that she had been moving the same cushion from one place to another for the past few minutes was concerning to say the least.

He briefly considered stopping her, but she seemed so lost in her own thoughts that he couldn't help but wonder what it was that was demanding so much of her attention. She seemed upset, almost, and he replayed their earlier conversations to try and find out what might have caused her shift in mood.

He inwardly cringed at some of the topics that came up during dinner, but despite being embarrassing, nothing had been so bad that she'd spend so long dwelling on it like she was. But if that wasn't it, then what was she thinking about?

Giving up, he entered the room. Tohru glanced up as she noticed him, and her face broke into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as she finally let go of the cushion. Kyo's brows dipped down at the sight and he sat gingerly on the sofa.

"Tohru, come here," he said, reaching out for her hands. Tohru cocked her head in question as she took his hand, and Kyo tugged her towards him with a sharp movement. She giggled as she fell into his lap, instantly covering her face with her hands to hide the way her cheeks had turned pink.

Kyo bit back a laugh at how ridiculous it was that she still got embarrassed like this. It was almost as if the Tohru he slept next to every night, the one that couldn't fall asleep unless she was holding onto some part of him, was a completely different girl than the one before him.

"Hey," he called softly, knocking the hands covering her face with his forehead. "Anyone in there?"

Tohru nodded, blowing out a stream of warm air as she let her hands drift down to her lap. "Sorry," she murmured as she turned her head to look at him. Her dark eyes were filled with something he couldn't quite recognise, and after watching her for a long moment, he sighed and let his head fall against her shoulder.

It was clear that no matter how hard he tried, he wasn't going to figure out what was bothering her. At least, not without asking her directly.

"Is something wrong Kyo-kun?"

Kyo chuckled, lifting his head to meet her concerned gaze. "I'm fine, but I was just about to ask you the same thing," he admitted. "Is something the matter?"

Tohru glanced away from him quickly, her fingers knotting together. "No," she said quietly. "It's not important, really."

"What's not important?" Kyo reached for her hands and Tohru let out a soft sound of surprise as he began to untangle her fingers and entwine them with his own. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

She nodded.

"I know that. It's just …" Tohru started before shaking her head. "It's nothing."

"Tohru," he chided softly, shaking their linked hands. "It's not nothing if it's upsetting you."

Kyo knew his wife had a terrible habit of keeping her feelings hidden inside of her, and although she was getting much better at it, sometimes she still needed coaxing to remind her that sharing them didn't make her a burden.

Tohru didn't say anything in response, her eyes glued to her lap where she wove her fingers between his over and over.

"Are you mad at me?" Kyo asked, not because he thought she was but just so he could definitely rule it out.

"No, of course not!" she said adamantly, her brown eyes fierce with conviction.

The tight ball of worry in his chest loosened a little.

"Then … are you mad that we didn't get to have a proper wedding like Akito and Shigure are going to?" He'd considered it a possibility earlier that the Head of the family's upcoming nuptials had made her realise just what she'd lost out on, but …

"I'm not mad at all Kyo, especially not over something like that," she reassured him.

"Maybe you should be? I mean, you never got the chance to be a bride or have bridesmaids or any of that other stuff that people normally do at weddings."

"I don't mind that at all, and you missed out on just as much as I did. All I really wanted was to be with you, and I already have that."

"Is that right?" he teased, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. "Well, for what it's worth … you would have made the most beautiful bride, blushing or otherwise."

Tohru flashed him a shy smile and he couldn't help the way his chest stuttered in response. "So, if it's not about the wedding was it about … that other thing," Kyo prompted, hoping she'd catch onto his meaning without him having to spell it out.

Her eyes creased in confusion and he knew he'd have no such luck.

"About the kids thing," he clarified, willing his face to stay passive through sheer willpower.

"Oh," she replied with a startle, and Kyo knew he'd at least hit on part of what was bothering her. "No …"

"But?" Kyo continued, because he knew there was a 'but'.

"Would you want to have children Kyo-kun?" Tohru asked, and Kyo got the sense that she was deflecting the conversation away from her true thoughts again.

He mulled over his response for a moment, Tohru watching him expectantly as he did so. "Yeah? I mean, I think so. Someday."

"Oh," she replied, her tone and face not giving away anything.

"Only if you wanted them too, that is," he added quickly. "Do you want kids?"

Tohru nodded instantly. "I do," she said, her tone a little brighter than it had been before.

"That's great," Kyo said. "But I still think you're not fully telling me what's bothering you."

"I know, and I'm sorry Kyo-kun. It's just … I really don't know how to explain what-"

Tohru cut herself off with a frustrated sigh, her shoulders tensing as she struggled to put her thoughts to words.

"Hey, it's okay," he soothed, pulling her into a hug. He held onto her tightly, hoping she'd know that he cared for her so much and that she'd always be safe with him. "Give it your best shot. I might not understand, but I promise to try my best to figure out what you mean. So, what's bothering you?"

"It's … Shigure-san mentioned that-"

"Ugh, him," Kyo growled. "You know, you really shouldn't pay any attention to what Shigure says of all people." Tohru blinked at him and Kyo realised that he'd just rudely interrupted her. "Sorry, I should have let you finish talking first. Go ahead, I'm listening."

"I think Shigure was right."

"What?" Kyo spluttered, not sure he'd heard his wife correctly. As much as he didn't want to, he loosened his hold on he so her could face her with ease. "I think my ears are broken. Did you just say that you think Shigure was right?"

"Mhmm," she hummed, nodding her head.

"About what exactly?"

"About us."

Kyo shook his head and in confusion and Tohru groaned in embarrassment, but she followed through regardless.

"Back when we lived at Shigure's, we were basically staying in one room together and Yuki or someone was almost always home, so it made sense. But then you moved out and I missed you so much, and I thought that when were living alone we could maybe …"

She took a steadying breath and Kyo ran his thumb along the back of her hand. She let out a half-laugh as he pressed his nose to her cheek. "Keep going," he murmured, pressing his lips to the base of her jaw.

"I was too nervous to say anything, but then we got married and we … never," she squeaked nervously, her face glowing with a blush even brighter than the one she'd worn before. "Shigure-san said we have the whole place to ourselves, and we do so … I was thinking that maybe …"

Tohru looked away from him, leaving the rest of her sentence hanging tensely in the air between them. Kyo knew that if her hands weren't in his right then that she'd be covering her face from him again. He was glad that she wasn't looking at him though, since his own face went as red as a beetroot as her meaning slowly dawned on him.

Was she asking if they …?

Hesitantly, she turned back towards him and Kyo's mouth fell open, his heart threatening to tumble out as he took in Tohru's heated gaze. It wasn't as if the thought had never occurred to him, he was only human after all, but … god, he couldn't think straight right now.

He tried to stutter through some form of a reply, but his words came out as nothing but garbled nonsense. He gave up on them quickly as Tohru began to shake with a quiet giggle.

"It's okay, Kyo," she said softly, and he barely even registered that she'd dropped the honorific, something he'd been trying to get her to do for the longest time. "It's like Shigure-san said, there's really no pressure or anything."

Now it was Kyo's turn to chuckle. "No that's … that's not how Shigure meant that," he said, a smile spreading across his face. In that moment, he knew exactly how lost Tohru must have felt earlier when she struggled to explain herself.

He placed a single finger under her chin and lifted her gaze up to his. Kyo wanted to tell her that he wanted what she did and so much more for them, but then, words had never really been his forte. He'd always preferred action.

And so, he simply leaned into her and let his lips do the talking before he found some other way to make a ridiculous embarrassment of himself. His kiss was soft and firm, and when she kissed him back with a hunger he'd never felt from her before he gasped against her lips in surprise.

She tried to pull back, afraid she'd gone too far, but he pulled her back and kissed her more insistently, his hands framing her face. It was new and exhilarating, and it took all he had to mumble a simple 'yes' as he lost himself in her touch.

"Wait, really?" she asked when he finally pulled back for air, studying the way her eyes were suddenly glittering with what he could only call desire. Kyo could only laugh against her lips at the surprise in her voice.

When it came to Tohru, he was so far gone that he wouldn't have been able to deny her the world had she asked for it. Maybe one day she'd figure it out, but until then …

"God yes," he murmured, pressing light kisses against her neck and jaw.

"Kyo-kun, I don't want you to think that you have to-"

He cut her off, smiling widely as he kissed her hard enough to make her forget all of her doubts. The slightly stunned look on her face when he pulled back was almost enough to send his thoughts flying into the unknown.

"Sorry. I know I should let you finish but I don't like where that was heading. You're not forcing me into anything, I promise."

He let his head fall back against the sofa, hair flopping across his eyes. He pushed it out of his face with his free hand and nudged Tohru with the other. She got the hint and turned so that she was facing him, her knees pressing into the sofa on either side of his legs.

She leaned in towards him, her nose brushing against his with a small smile and the scent of wildflowers. He reached up and let his fingers trail down her cheeks before cupping her jaw.

"Tohru," he said quietly, his voice floating in the small space between them. "You don't know how hard it's been sleeping next to you and trying not to think of you … like that."

"Kyo-kun," she called softly, her own hand reaching for his cheek. Her touch was cold, but it felt nice against his hot skin.

"What I mean to say is, you're not making me do anything I haven't already wanted to do for months." He shifted one hand onto her back and lowered her down onto the sofa, so he was hovering above her and meeting her intense look with a matching one of his own. "I want you," he drawled, his voice low and husky.

"I want you too," she whispered, and before he knew it his lips were on hers again and his hands were sliding down her thighs. Their touch felt real and right, and when her fingers wound through his hair, tugging gently on the strands to bring him closer, it took all Kyo had to break off the kiss.

Tohru mewled in protest at the loss of his touch, but he stroked her cheeks to keep any doubts at bay. "I think …" he breathed against her lips, struggling to catch his breath, "… maybe we should take this upstairs."

Tohru looked flustered for a second, as if only just realising that they were still in the living room before seeming to remember that they were all alone. No one would walk in on them anymore, so it was fine. But a bed would definitely be more comfortable.

She nodded and Kyo rolled off of her. Tohru made to follow, but before she could, Kyo leaned over and scooped her into his arms, holding her bridal style. "Please," he said softly. "Let me carry you like I should have on our wedding night," he said, the blush he'd been fighting for so long finally breaking through and lighting up his cheeks.

Tohru looked at a loss for words, but her shy smile said everything he needed to know. She leaned her head against his chest and let her hands snake around his neck. The way her fingers wove through his hair, Kyo wasn't sure he had enough self-restraint to make it the short distance to the bed.

... xxx ...

ack, apologies for taking so long with this chapter. i kept going back and forth about how far i wanted to take this and it was a whole dilemma lol. the next chapter will start *after* their night together and is more light-hearted (so this won't get too nsfw) but if i ever do post the spicier stuff i'll let you guys know if you’re interested.

thank you so much for reading and supporting my work, i appreciate it so so much and i'll see you in the next one. take care x

[pennamesmith]

Fabulous Skeletor Powers

She-Ra sings. Catra tries. Hordak prays. Entrapta says hey, what’s going on? More ‘Skeletor’ stories. 

*

Catra awoke from a strange dream of She-Ra singing and dancing to the soft light of dawn. She yawned and shook the sleep from her head.

Adora was next to her, snoring as loudly as a landslide. Looking down at her Catra smiled and relaxed, which was a feeling she was still getting used to, nearly a year after the end of everything.

There had been times, alone in the Horde, when she had been unable to do anything but lie in bed at night and cry, trying desperately to flush out all the thoughts running around in her head.

Now, things were different. It felt a little peculiar. On bad days she still worried that she would never be able to make up for the damage she’d done, and didn’t deserve the happiness she had now. In her better moments she was able to remember that it wasn’t really about getting or having, but about trying all the time to see and return the love that had always been there for her.

Adora snorted and rolled over. Moving carefully so as not to disturb her, Catra rose and padded to the small kitchen of their Bright Moon home. Somewhere along the way she was joined by Melog, mewling and pressing against her shins for attention. She gave it, and the space cat’s tail twitched happily.

Without really having any particular plan in mind, Catra withdrew various ingredients from the cupboards and began to fix a modest breakfast. Before she had time to make any grievous cooking errors, Adora was suddenly awake and there behind her, hugging her, smiling, correcting the wayward cat’s mistakes, and adding a healthy dose of her own.

Before long they had something made from eggs and bread and vegetables that was not only edible but downright delicious, at least compared to green ration bars. They sat at their small table and ate and laughed together while Melog lay curled at their feet and purred contentedly.

Adora appeared to be thinking about something. She had one hand thrust in her pocket and her chin rested in the other, face screwed up in careful contemplation. Finally, she seemed to come to a decision. She looked up and leaned forward with a grin. “Hey, stud,” she started.

Catra burst into laughter, cutting off whatever Adora had been about to say next. “What was that? Was that supposed to be smooth?” she cackled.

Adora tried to recover. “Hey, I’m just kidding! Yeesh!” She waved her hands defensively. “I — Look, let me try that again.”

But Catra wasn’t really listening, because it had suddenly occurred to her that between the early morning sunlight streaming in through the window, the smell of their perfect breakfast, the warm, bursting feeling in her chest, and Adora sitting right in front of her, that this moment was absolutely, stomach-turningly picturesque.

That would have made her angry before. Now she felt something else.

Adora noticed her girlfriend’s distant look and reached out for her. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Uh, not much!” Catra stammered, suddenly aware that she needed to get something from the other room, immediately. “I’ll be right back!”

She rushed to the spot where she hid important things, reached between a small bag of catmint and a little ball with a jingle bell inside, and retrieved a tiny hinged box with Entrapta’s factory seal of approval stamped on the lid.

She stuffed it deep in one pocket and hurried back to the kitchen table, heart pounding. Adora, in the meantime, had changed her sword into a golden toy mouse on a string and was letting Melog chase it across the floor.

“Oh good, you’re back!” Adora sat up straight in her chair and brightened. “Listen, I didn't really plan to do this right now — I actually wasn’t sure when exactly I was gonna do it until right now — but I’ve been thinking about… stuff. A lot. And this morning just felt so perfect and I was so happy that I thought, hey, maybe I should take a chance and…”

She trailed off. While she was talking she had withdrawn something from her own pocket and was fidgeting nervously with it. It, too, was a very small box, red and blue-black. Almost automatically, Catra produced hers.

They looked at each other soundlessly. A great number of things were said without words.

Ultimately it didn’t matter who broke the silence first, because the conversation would have been the same either way:

“So… I have a question for you.”

“I do, too.”

“You first?”

“Together.”

*

Hordak awoke to the sound of a klaxon alarm going off. Entrapta sat up straight in bed beside him, instantly alert, eyes wide with excitement.

“It’s happening!” She cried. “Variable A has been exposed to Variable C! The reaction has begun!” She laughed, maniacal and exuberant.

Hordak arose, much more blearily than his partner, and smiled. “I was wondering when they were going to get around to that. We finished making their rings weeks ago.”

“To the observation dome!” Entrapta shouted, leaping to her feet. “For science!” She scuttled out the door and away in a blur of purple and enthusiasm. Chuckling softly, Hordak stood and followed after her.

He stepped outside of their shared room in the Crypto Castle and took a deep breath as he prepared to climb the high stairs to Entrapta’s tower lab. He liked walking them; there were faster and easier ways to the top of the tower but the plodding pattern of his footsteps helped him examine and order his thoughts.

Going up the spiral staircase always seemed like climbing a great hill. It felt good to have hope, and a destination. The closer he got to the top, the more clearly he could hear Entrapta’s cries of excitement. It was like approaching a sun. That felt good, too.

Soon enough he reached the door to the lab (it was already ajar) and gently pushed his way inside. His partner was there, at work in the center of everything, cross-legged in midair as her hair stretched in a dozen different directions.

Entrapta cooed over her scientific instruments. Hordak watched her and felt something powerful move in his chest. Happiness branched through his body and showed plainly on his face. He no longer felt the need to hide his feelings inside.

Coming out of his reverie, Hordak realized quickly that Entrapta was not the only one present. Also populating the lab were Emily, who was doing a headstand, Imp, who was egging her on by playing peppy recordings of Scorpia’s voice, and a reprogrammed Horde drone Entrapta had named ‘Skeletor,’ who was shaking his fists and yelling.

“I’m talking to you, you dimwitted duo!” Skeletor shouted at the other two. “What is it that holds your attention more than the mighty Skeletor?”

Imp blew a raspberry and Emily made a dismissive beeping noise. They returned to ignoring him.

“How you vex me,” Skeletor grumbled.

Hordak looked away from this scene and approached Entrapta. She turned and made a happy noise, reaching out to draw him closer.

Entrapta eagerly showed off her equipment. “Look, look!” She pointed to one of the screens. “This reading means that both of the ring boxes have been opened. And this one means they’re both wearing them!”

She squealed in delight and leaned into Hordak’s shoulder. “And I could’ve gotten a visual, too, but somebody said that would be rude.” She stuck her tongue out, facetiously.

“There is nothing you could not do, if you set your mind to it,” Hordak told her. He pointed to the screen. “Tell me, what do these numbers mean?”

“Heart rate and endorphin levels!” Entrapta replied, happy to explain her machinations. “And it seems like things are going well!” She looked thoughtful. “Hm. You know, I’ve never been to another princess’ wedding before. I wonder if it involves magic? Or if they’ll have tiny food? What kind of present do you think we should bring?”

“I have read about Etherian traditions regarding this institution,” Hordak said, frowning. “This is going to be… somewhat more involved than our ceremony was, isn’t it?”

“If you mean that it won’t be in a lab and there’ll be more witnesses than Imp and the robots, then yes.” Entrapta had concern in her eyes. “What’s going on? Are you worried about the crowd? I know lots of tricks for staying calm in big groups.”

Hordak shook his head. “I was more concerned about how the other guests would react to… well.” He gestured vaguely to himself. “The ones who don’t know us as well as the happy couple, I mean.”

“There’s also Wrong Hordak. And Scorpia. And Perfuma’s getting to like you, too!” Entrapta pointed out. “Plus all the clones from our therapy group. You’re kind of their hero, y’know.”

“I cannot imagine why,” Hordak said. He looked away for a moment, toward where Skeletor continued to bother Imp and Emily.

“You pathetic pair of pitiful pinheads!” Skeletor fumed. “Some day I’ll have the power to destroy you! Some day!”

Imp grumbled and rode Emily to the other side of the lab, leaving the gangly troublemaker behind. Skeletor balled his fists and whined in frustration.

Hordak pursed his lips. “And that still leaves the matter of the other princesses, not to mention the citizenry. Ever since the revolution against Prime, I’ve hoped — ”

“And he prays!” Skeletor suddenly cut in. “Myaah!”

Hordak sighed. “Yes, even that. Every day. To the planet, or whoever cares to listen, that I have not done irreparable harm to this world. Or the fellowship it is made up of. But I fear it may already be too late.”

“Let me check the data!” Entrapta flipped rapidly through her screens. “Nope, Etheria is currently stable. Elemental readings are within parameters. You’re all good!”

Hordak smiled but did not look comforted. “Damage can go deeper than data, my dear,” he said.

“Ah, you’re referring to feelings being hurt.” The princess looked pleased with herself. “Well, I’ve got metrics for that, too. Everyone at Wrong Hordak’s therapy group is now twice as likely to initiate conversations with you while we’re there. Angry glares from people on the street are down forty percent since your cleanup and reconstruction work on Beast Island and Salineas. And...”

Entrapta put her hands on her hips and drew herself up to her full five feet. “You’re my lab partner. If anyone’s got a problem with that, I’ll fight them!” She stuck out her chin and flexed her arms.

Hordak’s worried expression softened. “I am humbled by your loyalty,” he said, sincerely. Then he grew pensive again. ”Do you... ever regret it?” he asked, touching a fingertip to the crystal on his collarbone and gazing at the matching one around Entrapta’s neck.

“A stupid question!” Skeletor interrupted.

“There’s no such thing,” Entrapta retorted. She picked the robot up with her hair and deposited him elsewhere, then turned her attention back to Hordak. “And to answer yours, no I do not. That data point remains unchanged.”

She flashed her eyes flirtatiously and handed him a graph. “Endearment, concupiscence, and intellectual stimulation, however, have all increased considerably. See for yourself!”

Hordak couldn’t help but smile as he reviewed her charts. The warm feeling returned to his chest. “I cannot argue with such fine research,” he relented.

“Data doesn’t lie!” Entrapta affirmed.

“You think you’re so smart!” Skeletor griped.

Without looking around, Entrapta picked him up again and placed him by the door. While he complained, Emily and Imp shooed him the rest of the way out, the latter playing a long recording of Skeletor’s own toothless insults as they went.

“You are still the finest scientist I know,” Hordak purred. He held out a hand. “May I assist you with your work?”

Entrapta beamed. “I thought you’d never ask!” She wrapped herself around him and drew him into her world. Hordak gladly followed. Together, they learned and discovered.

It was fabulous.

“Hordak and She-Ra, both defeated in the same day!” Skeletor said. “Ha! I should come to Etheria more often!”