#she Needed someone to do this for her and i was so happy when i first read that it was clorinde | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kamaluhkhan · 16 hours ago

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ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY

pairing: vi x fem!reader word count: 10.5k summary: after years away, vi returns home for the holidays and reunites with you, her ex-girlfriend. the universe (*cough cough* and your meddling families) push you together again, and neither of you can ignore the feelings that linger. (or: you, vi, and the ghosts of christmas past, present and future.) warnings: reader is ekko's older sister but not necessarily biological so appearance isn't specified; childhood friends to lovers + second chance romance; reader gets hit on by a creepy guy + gets into a fight (injury + blood mention), smut [strap mention (reader receiving), oral (both receiving), fingering (both receiving), biting, spitting, tribbing, sub!vi makes an appearance...kinda rough + possessive sex but there's aftercare too <33] (18+) ! a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR GIRLS AND GAYS <33 tbh i debated whether to post this now bc xmas was like....3 weeks ago but figured i might as well. so pls enjoy what is essentially an x-rated sapphic hallmark holiday movie.

♪: ‘tis the damn season by taylor swift (sun); winterbreak by MUNA (moon); last christmas by wham! (rising)

track 1: thank god it’s christmas by queen

(winter — age 17)

“okay, just relax your fingers — no, but keep some tension, apply a bit of pressure on the string….yep, that’s better. now, straighten your back….”

it’s dark and snowing outside, and the cold’s seeping in through the window of her attic bedroom, but vi still almost melts into the floor when you follow her advice and press against her chest. she worries that you can feel how fast her heart is beating — faster than it maybe should for someone she’d been calling friend ever since she could remember.

you shift in her lap, her arms still wrapped around yours from when she offered to guide you through an instrumental version of wham’s “last christmas.” you tilt your head towards her, nose almost brushing against hers.

“vi?”

“....yes?”

“maybe we should finish our lesson another time. we better hurry up, anyways. i bet ekko and powder are already arguing over whether we should watch home alone or home alone two.”

vi snorts. it’s practically a tradition at this point, along with the annual post-christmas-dinner pyjama movie night.

you try to hand her the bright pink guitar pick, but vi shakes her head.

“it’s yours. you’re gonna need it if you want more lessons.”

“hm, or maybe i could sell it for a billion dollars once you’re a big rockstar,” you tease. “i can picture thousands of fangirls painting your portrait and writing mrs. violet lanes in their notebooks.”

you get up, shoot her a wink, and leave vi on the bed, clutching her guitar and trying to get her pulse under control.

neither of you say anything as you both get changed. the stereo plays the mixtape you’d made for her — you got her for secret santa this year.

“my mom loved this song,” vi hums, a warm ache growing in her chest when the next song plays. this is the second christmas without her, but vi is still not used to using past tense. “she thought freddie mercury was the best rockstar of all time.”

“i remember. you…you must miss her.”

of course she does, and she could run through a million reasons why.

“vander says you’ll be spending new year’s at your dad’s,” is what she says instead.

you let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “yeah.”

“your mom going, too?”

“just me and ekko. i swear, it’s like he’s trying to be this perfect dad to his new stepkids, meanwhile he’s the one who left us here to deal with his mess, the one who just ran away, and….whatever.” this time, you do scoff. “hey – do you have a shirt i could borrow?”

vi looks over to find that you’ve switched from the velvet dress you wore during dinner into a pair of flannel plaid pants; her cheeks flush when she sees that you’re only wearing a black lacy bralette on top.

she clears her throat and pulls a clean jersey from her dresser, tosses it over to you.

“that’s a shame. i was looking forward to spending new year’s eve together.”

you hum and slip the shirt over your shoulders. the only sources of light are the moon and the stars and the multicoloured christmas lights strung along vi’s walls, but she swore that your eyes flick down to her lips.

“why’s that?” you ask.

there’s something absolutely dizzying about being this close to you, the way your sparkly eyes wait patiently for her to respond. joni mitchell sings about skating away on a river, and vi wishes she could skate away from this conversation, but there’s nowhere to go.

vi blinks away from your gaze and fixates on one of the many things she’s pinned up on her bedroom walls throughout the years. it’s a page torn from an old notebook of yours, something from seventh grade math class, but vi always loved your little drawings in the margins.

vi?” you prompt, never one to let go easily.

“i want to kiss you at midnight,” she confesses.

“yeah?”

vi nods. she’s tempted to walk out of her room, down the stairs and out into the winter night, until you weave your fingers through hers and squeeze her hand. she looks up — and you’re beaming, a smile that brightens vi’s entire being.

“i want that too.”

vi finally, finally crashes her mouth onto yours, lips sticky with marshmallow fluff.

you taste like vanilla and gingerbread and hot chocolate that is definitely not spiked with irish cream that vi slipped into your mugs while you distracted the adults.

you taste like home.

….

so, slight change of plans….i’m gonna stay here in london with the rest of the band. apparently the kirammans throw a super fancy holiday party with super fancy people every year, and cait convinced her parents to let us perform. fingers crossed someone important discovers us.

merry christmas, baby. and, if i don’t get the chance to say it: happy new year.

….

track 2: winter wonderland by darlene love

(winter — age 12)

you’re supposed to be looking after ekko while your parents are at work, but all that really means is making a big bowl of kraft dinner and stove-top s’mores for lunch and watching old christmas specials on the worn-out living room couch while you draw in your sketchbook and your brother, only 7 years old, programs the doorbell to play ‘jingle bells.’

when someone rings the doorbell, the tune floats through the house and wakes up your dog who starts barking like it’s the end of the world.

“easy, ziggy.” you click a marker closed and run a hand through the husky’s fur, attempting to calm him down. “let’s go see who it is.”

you open the door, and there’s vi: snowflakes sparkling on her eyelashes, pink hair hidden under a knitted hat, and a toothy grin that brings out the dimple in her flushed cheeks. she’s also got a split lip and crooked nose from her last hockey game.

“we’re building a fort,” she tells you. she shuffles to the side so that you can see powder, who’s making a snow angel. “well, we’re going to. wanna join?”

you nod, smiling. “ekko!”

your brother’s already behind you, slipping on his chunky boots and oversized coat that used to be yours before running outside and collapsing onto the fluffy snow next to powder. ziggy bolts outside, too, running circles around them.

you stumble to get your winter gear on as fast as possible, the cold air rushing inside your front hallway as vi waits for you, kicking her snowy boot against the concrete entryway step. not even a heartbeat after shutting the door behind you, vi takes your gloved hand in hers and pulls you forward, the two of you a flurry of laughter.

…..

hey, pretty girl. i was at this party and one of your songs came on! every time i hear it, i’m in awe of how amazing it is….how amazing you are. i’m basically walking home in a snowstorm, so i’m gonna go before my fingers freeze off, but i just wanted to say that i’m so proud of my rockstar girlfriend.

i was also wondering: are you coming home any time soon? the holidays are coming up, and i really miss you. we all do.

…..

track 3: last christmas by wham!

(winter — now)

vi should have learned from sonic youth and fleetwood mac:

no sex or romance between bandmates. it never ends well.

it was bad enough giving into the rumors and fooling around with cait, but it’s another layer of messiness now that cait and maddie dating. meanwhile, cait is very much still bitter towards vi, vi is very much pining after someone whom she’s pretty sure never wants to see her again, and steb and lorris are very much caught in the middle. it’s no wonder the band’s manager suggested everyone take some time apart to ease the tension. frankly, while others protested, vi was almost relieved at the suggestion.

so cait’s off to london, maddie’s off to glasgow, the boys are going god knows where, and vi —

vi’s heading back home, back to you.

she wakes up in the bed of her childhood for the first time in a long time. her dad put on fresh sheets, but they’re still the same ones from back then — worn flannel with cartoon penguins. it takes a lot of willpower to untangle herself from the warmth and cloud-like softness, but eventually she heads downstairs to the kitchen.

powder still has exams so she’s not home from college until tomorrow, and vander’s gone to work. it’s just vi in her too-small christmas pyjamas (she has yet to unpack), eating a box of stale cinnamon pop-tarts for breakfast even though it’s well past noon. curiosity gets the best of her, so she peers through the window to see if anyone is next door.

your mom’s car is in the driveway, completely snowed in. there had only been a dusting of snow while vi was devouring the first pastry, but four pop-tarts in and it’s about doubled. she waits until the snow stops falling; with nothing better to do and a sugar rush to burn off, vi pulls on her old winter coat and snow boots she hasn’t worn since she was 18, grabs a shovel from the garage, and gets to work.

it doesn’t take her long to clear the driveway, and she has some adrenaline to spare, so she decides to be a good neighbor.

vi’s heaving one last shovelful of snow over her shoulder when she hears:

“violet? is that you?”

she turns around. and, okay the first thing she registers is ziggy running towards her, the husky toppling her over into the snow.

“i missed you too, zig,” vi laughs.

she gets up as ziggy’s still bounding around in the snow, and sees your mom standing in the doorway, looking a little more tired and a little more gray. but the smile on her face when she sees that it is, in fact, vi — it’s so bright that the snow might not exactly melt away, but the years sure do.

vi remembers making snow angels with you while your moms gossiped over tea, how the two of you would stomp inside with a mess of slush and snow while laughter echoed from the living room. vi remembers your mom keeping a comforting arm around her shoulder through her mom’s funeral while you held her hand. she remembers your mom helping her pick out the perfect corsage to match your suit at prom, making a joke about how next time it might be an engagement ring, and telling vi how proud her mother would have been of her at your high school graduation party.

with the golden glow of nostalgia comes a crashing wave of guilt at what vi said to you last time you spoke.

“come inside, sweetheart. i’ll make you some hot cocoa as a thank you.”

vi is tempted to reject the offer, but your mom looks so hopeful and vi’s fingers are about to freeze off, anyways.

so your mom makes hot cocoa as vi defrosts, the two of them chatting in the familiar yellow kitchen that you and vi once almost burnt down while trying to bake a cake for powder’s birthday. even the magnets and paper memories decorating the fridge are the same, with the addition of an article about vi’s band that was featured in the rolling stone, pinned up by a ceramic cow.

“she’s an art teacher now,” your mom tells vi after giving an update on ekko. she glances at the oven clock. “speaking of which — i know you just finished shoveling our driveway, but do you mind helping me with another favor?”

“after the world’s best hot chocolate? anything.”

“i told my daughter that i’d pick her up from work, and i’m wondering if you would be able to take care of that.” your mom smiles. “i’m sensing a bad migraine coming on.”

the last sip of hot chocolate trickles down vi’s throat like cement. she knew she’d be seeing you, but didn’t quite plan for how that….reunion might go.

“of course,” vi says.

vi puts both of their mugs in the dishwasher, about to grab the car keys from the hook by the door when your mom calls out:

“oh, and violet?” vi turns around. “i’m so glad you’re home.”

you’re talking to a student when vi enters the art room of your old high school. nothing else in the building had changed — same boring concrete, same scratched up lockers, same graffiti immortalizing whom hooked up with whom. this room is the exception, vibrant with how students’ art is displayed all around, paintings and drawings and collages, and you’ve strung up multicolored christmas lights that give the whole space a cozy ambiance. you look the part of a cool, young art teacher: wearing a simple dark purple turtleneck tucked into black jeans and the same combat boots you’ve had since tenth grade, paint stains on your skin that is exposed by rolled up sleeves, and a marker behind your ear. you’re standing in front of an easel, talking to the student who happens to notice vi before you do.

“holy shit. is that violet lanes?”

vi watches as your face scrunches up in confusion, and then falls into shock when you see her standing there.

“it seems that it is violet lanes,” you state coolly while the student squeals. “what are you doing here?”

“oh, i, uh,” vi clears her throat, her palms sweaty. why is her body reacting like she’s a teenager about to ask out her crush for the first time? “your mom wasn’t feeling great, asked if i could pick you up from work.”

“you guys are friends?” the student asks, eyes wide as they flick between you and vi.

“we used to date, actually,” vi clarifies. wrong move, she realizes, because you can’t help but glare at her.

“oh my god.” the student squeals again and reaches in their pocket to whip out their phone. “i need to tell alyssa that ms. l/n was in a relationship with the violet lanes. are you guys gonna get back together? oh my god, have you come to win her back —”

“layla,” you clip, and by the furrow of layla’s brow, it seems like you’re not usually so stern. you smile at layla, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “you’ve done some great work today, but you’ll have to finish this when we’re back from winter break. do you mind giving ms. lanes and i a minute?”

layla nods once, gathers her things. when she walks past vi, she can’t help but ask for an autograph. vi complies, of course, even lets her take a selfie. a fan is a fan, after all.

and, quite frankly this is the only part of being in the band that she still enjoys: hearing how excited young girls are at the music she writes, the music that vi wished she had growing up, about girls liking girls, about girls falling in and out of love with each other. everything else is just an occupational hazard that vi’s getting more and more fed up with.

when vi turns her attention back to you, you’re finished putting all the material away, wiping your hands with an already paint-stained towel.

“i meant what you’re doing back in town,” you explain, not quite meeting vi’s eyes. you pack away some books and your laptop into a supple leather briefcase, and slip on your coat. vi’s cheeks flush when you catch her watching you.

“it…it doesn’t matter. i’m here for a while, though.”

you sigh. “okay.” and you don’t say anything more. vi keeps up with you as you switch off the lights, lock the door, and stride to the parking lot in silence. when you get to the car, you extend your hand.

“i’m driving,” you say, gesturing at her to give you the keys. “we both know that you’re a terrible driver.”

“i’m not a terrible driver,” vi guffaws.

“says the lesbian who gives the rest of us a bad name,” you quip, a hint of a smile dancing across your lips, like the first bout of sun after a winter storm. “c’mon, pretty girl. i’m not giving up, so unless you wanna freeze to death….”

the nickname slips effortlessly from your tongue, so much so that you don’t even seem to realize it, but vi’s breath hitches and she’s more than happy to fold to your every whim if it means hearing you call her pretty one more time.

“so….” vi glances over at you from the passenger seat. a snowy landscape passes outside the window, and you tap on the steering wheel to a generic christmas song that plays through the stereo. “you’re teaching high school now?”

she wonders if you remember the last fight you had, almost two years ago to the day.

you keep your eyes on the road. “yeah. guess i graduated from finger-painting with kindergarteners.”

vi feels her cheeks heat up all over again.

so, you do remember.

she wonders if you’ve replayed it over and over again and hoped for a different ending like she did. she should have thought more about what to actually say to you —

“you know, i never understood why you liked this song so much,” you suddenly say when the radio starts playing dolly parton’s cover of ‘i’ll be home for christmas.’

vi can read between the lines, but she’s waiting for you to point out the irony in her preference for a song that’s about someone wanting to go home for christmas, something vi has deliberately avoided at all costs these past few years.

“it just seems kinda sad,” you continue.

“you love ‘last christmas,’ and that one’s pretty sad,” vi points out.

“sure, but it ends hopefully.”

“oh?” vi tilts her head towards you. “how’d you figure?

“sure, it’s someone singing about heartbreak and how much it sucks during christmastime, but then there’s this hope that they still find true love down the line. it’s a maybe that isn’t hopeless.” you shrug. “meanwhile, your song ends with the lyric ‘if only in my dreams,’ which just seems too accepting of the fact that going home for christmas, being with the person they love — it might just be a dream.”

“i don’t know. some dreams do come true,” vi muses.

by now, you’ve made it home. you put the car in park but keep the engine going, presumably to avoid becoming icicles. neither of you make a move to leave.

you glance over at vi. “your dreams sure came true, ms. violet lanes,” you joke, but there’s an air of sadness to it.

“not all of them.”

“yeah? which ones haven’t?”

vi swallows the lump in her throat and hopes that you understand the look in her eyes. “let’s just say i’m working on them.”

you blink away and cut the engine.

….

you’re still dealing with the shock of seeing vi back in town when your brother, freshly home from college, suggests going skating.

he can be fairly convincing, especially when he mentions that it’s a christmas season tradition, so, you prepare for what is essentially a double date with your brother, his girlfriend/your ex-girlfriend’s sister, and your ex-girlfriend, with isha as a fifth wheel.

should be fun.

it turns out, despite all her past hockey experience, vi really cannot skate. in fact, skating seems to be the complete opposite of riding a bike: she’s terrible at it after years off the ice, essentially reenacting that scene from bambi. it’s easier to ignore vi’s presence when she’s sitting next to the snack bar, by herself, but then powder skates up next to you and asks if you’d be kind enough to please help her sister have a good time. you roll your eyes at her shit-eating grin, but it is a bit sad, watching vi on the sidelines. she’s wearing a beanie and a pair of sunglasses to hide her identity, and now she kinda looks like a divorced dad watching his grown kids pass him by while he’s stuck in a midlife crisis.

you convince vi to give skating another shot — it’s tradition after all — and pull her out onto the rink. you start by holding her from behind, keeping her hips steady until she gets the hang of it. you try to let go, but vi stumbles and reaches out for your gloved hand, and you melt into the familiarity of her fingers curled around yours. the two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm, first with you pulling vi along, then with her taking the lead, until vi almost knocks into a small child.

“see what i mean by you being a bad driver?” you jest, successfully maneuvering to avoid collision.

then, you follow where vi’s eyes have settled — on powder and isha laughing and chasing each other around the rink. vi had asked earlier when isha had dyed her hair blue; you still have some residue under your nails from last weekend, when powder came for a study break and the three of you ended up helping isha achieve a new look she’d apparently been itching to try.

“you know powder’s graduating this year?”

“she overloaded her credits so she could get out of there as soon as possible,” you explain, having had many conversations with powder leading up to the decision.

vi nods, her jaw clenched. you already know what she’s thinking, and frankly, you agree: that vi hasn’t been here, literally and figuratively. you also feel the warmth of vi’s skin radiating through her glove to yours, notice the slight flush to her freckled cheeks, how chapped her lips are from the cold, so much so that you’re tempted to share the vanilla chapstick you’ve got on your own lips, to kiss her deeply like you did last time you were here, together.

it’s only been three days since vi’s been back home. this is only the second time you’ve seen her, and you’re already falling back into old patterns, tempted to ask her to stay, to try again, even though you already know the answer.

except….not staying isn’t the deal breaker it used to be, so maybe trying again isn’t as hopeless as you think it is.

vi squeezes your hand, and you realize that you’ve stopped skating entirely.

“hey. you still with me?”

you nod, decide to enjoy this moment for as long as you can, and the two of you glide across the ice.

…..

when you suggest making stove-top s’mores, it’s another item on the list of things she’d missed.

a list that’s been growing a lot these past few days.

vi offers to make more once you’ve all run out, and ekko follows her into their kitchen while you, powder, and isha keep watching christmas specials in the living room. she turns on the gas stove, stabs a marshmallow through a wooden skewer and waits for it to roast — and, for ekko to say something.

“i don’t know what happened between you and my sister, but i need you to promise me that the tabloids aren’t true. that you and that kiramman chick didn’t hook up…at least until after y’all broke up.”

“or, what, you’re gonna challenge me to an arm wrestle? think you can finally beat me?”

“oh, i know it.”

a pause. the marshmallow catches on fire and vi blows on it to quell the damage.

“i didn’t cheat on her.” she throws out the burnt marshmallow and gives it another shot. “i would never. does….does she think i did?”

ekko shrugs. “not sure. some of those articles are pretty convincing. but, since you’re promising me that you didn’t…”

“i didn’t.”

“then that saves me from kicking your ass.” ekko nods once and uncrosses his arms, handing vi some graham crackers and chocolate. “actually, i could use your help with something.”

“sure.”

“she applied to this great art residency in new york, like, on whim. the only people she’s told are me, powder, and vander….i think she’s nervous to tell mom, at least until she knows for sure she’s gotten in, but this is the most excited i’ve seen her be about something in a while, and she worked really hard on her application…”

“i’m sure she did,” vi states. “what do you need my help with?”

“convincing her to go.”

“i’d love to help, but i’m not sure i’m someone she’d wanna hear from, especially about this. she was never a fan of me leaving to pursue my dreams.”

“she was never a fan of you leaving,” ekko corrects. “she’s still a fan of you pursuing your dreams.” he juts his chin out at the article stuck to the fridge.

vi had just assumed that your mom had pinned that up.

“okay.” vi says. “i’ll talk to her.”

a plateful of semi-burnt s’mores later, and vi and ekko return to the living room with the rest of you.

vi forgot how nice this felt, all of you cuddled on the couch, ziggy included, watching how the grinch stole christmas. she half expects her mom to walk in through the door without even knocking, shake the snow off her hair, and hold up a batch of pre-baked gingerbread people she’d gotten for the kids to decorate.

but that’s not happening. other than isha, none of you are kids anymore and things can never be the same.

and yet — you glance over at vi and give her a sticky marshmallow smile, and she feels her heart grow three sizes.

….

baby, i swear it’s not what it looks like. the record label thought it would be good promo to get a picture of me kissing under the mistletoe…’tis the season and all that…..cait and i were both really drunk and things got a bit out of hand….but it looks worse than it is. i swear on my mother’s grave that nothing happened.

please call me back, baby…..i’m so fucking sorry….please.

it’s not christmas without at least hearing your voice.

….

track 4: river by joni mitchell

(winter — age 23)

it’s hard to believe that hours ago, you were kissing vi backstage and showering her with praise after the concert. she was happy to indulge in your excitement, even though she was all sweaty and her ears were still ringing from the crowd.

more than happy, in fact. phone sex can only go so far, and it’d been too long since vi had seen you writhe and heard you whimper for her firsthand.

“i missed you so fucking much,” you groan, tightening your grip on vi’s hair. it’s now an inky black instead of fuschia — the band’s starting to lean more punk rock.

a particularly hard thrust is her way of telling you that she missed you too. so fucking much. she throws your legs over her shoulders, pushing the strap deeper inside you and digging her knees into the mattress as she coaxes you through another orgasm. you pull her down for one last searing kiss, your tongue searching each crevice of her mouth.

“i can’t believe you’re here,” vi continues a few moments later, after you’re both cleaned up and getting dressed. she wants to add something along the lines of i love you, but she bites back the sentiment. she’ll save that sappy shit for later tonight, when she finally gets down on one knee for you.

you glance back at her from where you’re pulling out a sparkly silver dress from your side of the closet (and isn’t that such a slip of the mind? your side, as if it’s a shared closet and a shared bedroom and a shared home; if she thought about it more, though, she would realize that, though she has no problem asking you to marry her, she’s still terrified at the thought of staying in one place for more than a few months).

“me neither,” you smile.

vi walks over to you, presses her half-dressed body against your lingerie-clad form (vi’s sure you wore this fuschia set just to drive her insane; it’s working). she lodges her hand behind your ear and pulls you in closer, kisses you deeply because you’re here and she missed you so fucking much and she’s so ready to make you her wife.

she could write a whole record just about the taste of your lips: the sweetness of vanilla chapstick, the saltiness of sweat and the headiness lingering from the wetness you lapped up from between her legs.

you pull away first. vi tries not to stare at how your chest heaves, your breasts straining against intricate lace.

“we, um.” you clear your throat. you slip your hand underneath vi’s blazer, and she groans when you make contact with the exposed, burning skin of her abdomen. vi thinks you’re about to suggest another round, or two, or ten, but instead you untangle yourself from her and say: “we should probably get ready.”

the after party is going well. the club’s busy, the music’s good, and the drinks are flowing.

you seem to be having a great time until someone (probably cait or maddie, on cait’s behalf) lets it slip that the band’s heading to london later in the month to start recording their new album before the end of the year….something vi decidedly did not want to tell you until later tonight, after the high of the proposal, after she’s promised you that she’s dedicated to this relationship, that she’s always been dedicated to you.

instead, vi’s trailing behind you as you angrily stomp towards the bathroom, her mind scrambling to come up with a way out of this argument.

there’s a line, but you cut in front and slip inside as soon as someone walks out.

“wait, what the fu —”

you slam the door and lock it behind you once you’re both inside, ignoring the subsequent banging and jiggling of the handle.

“please, baby, let me explain —”

“i can’t fucking believe you,” your voice is steady, measured, and for some reason that makes vi even more nervous. “you give empty promise after empty promise that you’ll be more present, but something always gets in the way, is always more important than —”

“don’t you dare say that you’re not important to me. i offer to fly you out anywhere to be with me, but you’ve only taken me up on the offer once. twice, now.”

“it’s been five years, vi. five years of us staying together because….god, at this point i don’t even know why — ”

“do you not understand how much i love you?” vi raises her voice over the sound of the club music outside. “i was gonna propose tonight.”

you stare at her, then start to laugh.

“please tell me you’re joking.”

“i’m not.”

“if you think marriage will save us, then you’re delusional. what was your plan — call me your wife while we’re thousands of miles apart, but not even have the time to answer my calls? we’re barely in a relationship now, vi. all that’s left between us are missed calls and voicemails —”

“oh that’s really all that’s left between us?”

“i love you, violet. i have since we were kids. but, now, there’s also all this — the parties, the crowds, the fame….you’ve gone all over the world, and you can’t even be bothered to visit your family during the holidays.”

“well i’m sorry that my ambitions are bigger than that nothing town we grew up in,” vi snaps. “i can’t believe you’re throwing a tantrum because i’m not making it home for christmas. for what? so we can all reminisce by the fireplace, pretend that we can be kids again, even though things can —” vi chokes back a sob, soothes it with a healthy dose of anger. “things can never be the same. you need to grow the fuck up.”

“maybe you should be the one to grow up!” you finally yell. “convincing yourself that this relationship is working, meanwhile you’re running away from everything and everyone you grew up with because it reminds you of your —”

“at least i’m not afraid to actually go after my dreams,” vi cuts you off before you can finish that sentence, uses the broken shards of your words against you. “don’t you want more for your life than finger-painting with a bunch of kindergarteners? you’re gonna end up just like your deadbeat mom, going nowhere, drinking yourself to sleep, all alone, with nothing to show for the life you’ve lived.”

as soon as the words leave her mouth, vi wishes she could take them back. you don’t bother swallowing your tears, letting them rush down your cheeks. vi digs her nails into her palms to prevent herself from reaching out and wiping them. it wouldn’t make sense, anyways. she’s the reason you’re crying.

you take a deep, shaky breath.

“yeah, well, i’m glad that your mom isn’t alive to see what a selfish asshole you’ve become.” there’s a pause, and vi feels her stomach turn at your casual cruelty, your quiet anger. “i’m gonna pack up my stuff and catch the first flight out of here. merry fucking christmas and happy fucking new year. have a nice life.”

vi screams and throws the velvet box against the door you’ve slammed shut behind you. the hot tears that were building in her throat finally boil over. the engagement ring clatters onto the floor.

…..

vi? it’s me. not sure if you’ve blocked my number. i wouldn’t blame you. i know it’s been, like, a year, but it feels weird not hearing your voice for this long, especially around the holidays. well, i guess i could just turn on the radio….it’s not the same, though. anyways, merry christmas. happy new year, too. and….and i’m sorry.

please come home.

…..

track 5: i’ll be home for christmas by dolly parton

(winter — now)

karaoke at the last drop used to be one of vi’s favorite christmas traditions, so you decidedly avoided it at all cost since the breakup. vander always tried to convince you to join, but he understood and even made sure to not give you a shift during that time after you started working there at 21.

you kept the job because, evidently, high school art teachers don’t make a ton of money, and you would one day like to move out of your mother’s house.

which, as it turns out, might happen sooner rather than later. you applied for this artist residency in new york, and, yeah, you put time and effort and heart into your application, but you were sure that you’d be rejected. while you got your acceptance email this morning, and you were so fucking overjoyed at first, the thought of leaving still terrifies you, so you’ll postpone worrying about that until after the holidays. that’s what they’re for, anyways: a break from reality, a peek into a cozy snow-covered world where everyone is festive and joyous and worry-free.

right now though, you’re feeling neither festive nor joyous. gert called in sick, and no one else is able to cover for them, so you’re stuck at the last drop on christmas eve, listening to one of your old high school classmates drunkenly fumble the lyrics of darlene love’s ‘christmas (baby, please come home).’

about three verses in, vi walks into the bar with mylo and claggor, flakes of fluffy snow melting into her grayish pink hair. you’re already pouring their drinks before they reach the counter. mylo and claggor offer their sincere appreciation, chattering away as they leave to snag a booth in the corner. vi stares at her drink before grabbing the beer glass.

“you remember.”

“are you surprised?”

vi smiles. “no. it’s just nice. cait keeps insisting i order gin martinis instead. says it’s classier.”

something sour curdles in your stomach. “yeah, well. i’ve always liked you the way you are.”

that probably ended up sounding like you’re still pining after vi (which you’re….not) rather than the bitter comment you intended it to be.

vi’s soft blue eyes search yours.

“i better get back to the boys,” she finally says. “maybe sign up for a song or two.”

you’re busy clearing a table when you hear her voice again. actually — a silence fills the bar, and it’s replaced by the lush rumble of vi singing ‘last christmas.’

you watch her as she performs, eyes locked on yours, and it’s over before you know it. you feel like you should go say something to her, but then there are a bunch of excited fans that she has to attend to, signing autographs, taking photos.

as you swallow your disappointment, the normal chatter of the bar resumes. you’re walking back to the kitchen when you feel someone pinch the back of your thigh, right under your ass. you whip around to find that old classmate who butchered a christmas classic an hour or so before (james, you think his name is, from ninth grade science), with the most arrogant smirk.

“hey, gorgeous. my friends and i were just arguing over who should take you home tonight.” he gestures towards a table of guys who look like equally preppy assholes. “i won the chugging contest.”

“good for you,” you say, balancing a tray of empty glasses. “grope someone in here again, and you’ll be sorry you did.” you turn around to get back to work, but james grabs your wrist and stands up abruptly so you’re chest-to-chest.

“i don’t think you understand what i’m offering, baby.” you gag at the nickname and the stench of beer on his breath. you’re a bartender, you’re used to getting hit on, but creeps like this are the worst.

you rip away from his grasp.

“i’m not interested,” you snap. “and i’m not your baby.”

“listen.” james puts his hands on your shoulders, and if both of your hands were free, you would promptly push him away. everyone’s having a good time and you don’t wanna cause a scene, so you try to think of ways to get this asshole out of the bar and into the snow without much of a fight. “you know, santa might come down your chimney on christmas eve, but if you’ve been a good girl this year i’ll come down your —”

“there you are!” powder’s voice is loud over the sound of someone singing another generic christmas carol. she knocks into your side, breathless. “sorry we’re late. had some car trouble.”

“well, hello.” he removes his hands from your shoulders, shifts his predatory gaze from you to powder.

oh, fuck no.

“powder,” you keep your voice steady even if your heart is racing. “go back to the table. i’ll be there in a sec.”

james reaches out for powder, but you punch him square in the jaw before he can so much as touch her, the tray of glasses crashing on the floor.

james’ flirtatious smile is long gone, replaced with the kind of anger only egotistical, self-important jerks have when they don’t get what they want and they’ve taken a blow to their ego.

in fact, he’s angry enough to deliver a punch right back to your face.

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you stumble, but powder manages to catch you before you tumble into the broken glass. she holds you as people start yelling. you think that vander rushes over, too, shouting at james to get the fuck out of his bar and never step foot in it again.

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and everything is all a bit fuzzy. powder tries her best, but you slump your body weight into hers and she almost topples over.

“i’ve got her.” vi’s surprisingly calm voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist to steady you.

somehow, you find yourself in the bathroom, sitting on the counter as vi stands between your legs. she carefully examines your injury, but you notice how she avoids making eye contact.

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while.

“remember teaching me how to throw a punch?” the question slips past your lips before you can stop it.

vi looks slightly amused, and she finally meets your gaze. “‘course i do,” she hums. “you tried to convince me to help you start an all-female fight club at school.”

a smile creeps onto your face, despite the pain from your nose.

she remembers.

somewhere within her, vi holds on to fragments of you.

“thank god the principal vetoed it. would’ve been a disaster,” she continues.

vi wipes the blood off your face, the sleeve of her silk red button-down now stained a darker crimson. “how’s your hand?” she asks.

you flex your fingers. “it’s been better,” you answer, your knuckles slightly aching. “totally worth it.”

vi smiles sadly. “i guess you’ve been the one protecting my sister while i’ve been away.”

while i’ve been away.

the reminder feels like a stab to the heart.

vi’s back home, sure, but only for a limited time.

her fingers graze your cheek, and the breath hitches in your throat.

“you know, i only wanted to start that fight club as an elaborate plan to spend more time together,” you confess, opting to preserve the delicate bubble of nostalgia you’d stumbled into together. “we were each so busy….i had studio, and you were always away at hockey games. it wasn’t realistic in the end, though.”

“i would’ve stayed if you asked,” she tells you, and you wonder exactly what she might be referring to.

you swallow the lump in your throat. “it’s what you loved, though.”

“but i - i loved you, more. you had to have known that.”

“yeah, well. i loved you, too,” you explain, and it’s clear that neither of you are talking about a lesbian fight club. “whether it was hockey, or music….as long your heart was in it, it was more worth it to let you go, to not stand in the way of your dreams.”

“you were my dream.”

you scoff, cheeks heating up, and look away. “you probably say that to all the girls.”

“no.” vi guides your chin towards her. “just the one.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on vi’s— messy, urgent. noses bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. she cradles your face in her hands, and you wrap your legs around her waist to bring her closer. you taste beer on her tongue, and maybe a hint of lime, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. when you run out of air, you pull away. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the adrenaline, but dizzy from her. vi’s gaze is heavy on yours as she traces your top lip with her thumb.

“vi,” you whimper, itching to kiss her again.

“you’re still bleeding.”

vi wipes away the blood with the sleeve of her shirt. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s a knock on the door. vander, wondering if you’re okay and if maybe you could hurry up and get back to work.

you can’t sleep that night. before, staying up on christmas eve was an elaborate operation to catch santa. now, it’s overthinking a very hot kiss and all the unresolved tension between you and your ex-girlfriend next door.

logically, you knew that you missed vi, everything about her and who she is, the way you would laugh and argue and make love. but the rush of feeling her tongue licking into your mouth, her body melding into yours after being apart for so long….

you’re scared that she won’t feel the same, but you’re even more terrified of letting the moment slip through both your fingers without at least trying.

so, you grab your phone, deciding to finally reach out to her, when by some christmas miracle you get a text from her.

she climbs through your window not long after, wearing plaid boxer shorts and a zaun university sweatshirt you’ve been looking for, for about five years. you didn’t bother to change, either, only wearing an oversized shirt. you sit cross-legged on your bed as she waits by the window. vi stares at your chest for a good few seconds, and you remember that you’re wearing one of her band’s concert tees, faded from years of wear.

“so, um,” vi starts, her voice as soft as the well-worn cotton of your shirt. “we have so much shit to talk about and figure out, but, i, uh, can’t stop thinking about early tonight —”

“vi.” the swarm of butterflies in your stomach is replaced by something more delicate, more urgent. “do you wanna come sit?”

vi swallows thickly, looking between you and the still open window. a winter breeze rushes through. you shiver, thinking she might just turn around and disappear into the cold night. instead, she shuts the window, removes her snow-covered boots, and settles onto the bed next to you.

you place a tentative hand on her cheek, still cold and slightly flushed. she shudders when you run your thumb over the tattoo under her eye.

“i know there’s a lot we have to work through.” you take a deep breath as she shifts closer, suddenly dizzy from the familiar scent of her winter pine old-spice body wash. “right now….right now, i just want you.”

“yeah?” vi smirks, her shyness melting away. she settles a warm hand on your bare thigh. “how do you want me?”

you exhale sharply when her hand travels higher, dull nails scraping at the fabric of your underwear.

“it’s cute that you’re flustered,” she quips, leaning in even closer. her breath is warm and heavy against your lips. “because i’ve spent so many night replaying all the dirty, nasty things we used to —”

you tug her sweatshirt and pull her back onto the bed, feeling her body solid against yours. the vibration of her groan shudders through your body when you crash your lips onto hers with such hunger, you’d think you had been starving without her.

“how’s about an encore, superstar?” you drawl.

you bite your lip hard at how vi nods at you desperately, eyes all dark and lustful.

“you read my mind,” she breathes. by now, her hand has reached the hem of your shirt, and she pushes up the cotton to reveal the supple skin of your stomach. you give her permission to remove it, leaving your top half exposed.

her lips nip and suck down your body until she reaches the waistband of your panties. she pulls it up with her teeth, the elastic snapping back when she lets go. you whine her name, and she looks up at you with dark eyes.

“can i?” her breath fans over your navel, her nails digging into your hips as she waits for your answer.

“yes. please.”

you hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but you could feel vi smirk against your inner thigh before sinking her teeth into it. you whimper, and vi salves her tongue over the area to ease the sting before removing your underwear. she positions your legs over her shoulders for better access to where you need her most.

vi moves her tongue and fingers in all the ways she remembers makes you shake, curl your toes, and grind down on her face. in return, you grip her pink hair, tightly, and utter praise in all the ways you remember makes her shake.

“just like that, pretty girl,” you encourage, practically melting into the mattress. it feels so good — dangerously good, intoxicating, even — to be devoured by vi. “keep doing a good job and i’ll return the favor later.”

vi’s moan vibrates throughout your body and she becomes faster, reaches her tongue deeper, bringing you over the edge. she leaves a few more bites on your body on her way up to meet you and when she does, vi’s lips and chin are shining with your release.

you lean forward slightly to lick it up. you ghost your mouth over hers.

“your turn,” you taunt and run your thumb over her tattooed cheek.

you twist your calf around vi’s leg and flip your positions. she lets out a yelp when her back hits the mattress. once you’re hovering over her, legs and arms on either side of her body, you do what you’re sure you’d never get tired of doing: you kiss her, passionately, deeply. you bite her lip as you pull away.

there was always a bit of jealousy that gnawed at you, became your very-own shoulder devil that you just couldn’t shake when you were together, no matter how hard you tried. it was no secret that vi was admired by many, that girls around the world were crushing on her, hoping they’d catch her eye, get their chance with her. you never felt like she was yours, and yours alone.

but you do get a deep satisfaction knowing that right here, right now, you’re the only person who gets to see her like this — pink hair splayed across the pillows like her very own halo, but the rest of her telling a much less-angelic, much more sinister story: her lips swollen and kiss-bitten, her cheeks a devilish shade of red, her eyes dark and lustful and waiting for you to make the next move.

"you want me to have my way with you?" you whisper, voice honeyed with desire.

vi whimpers, a sound that fuels the fire in your abdomen. "yes."

you practically rip off her sweatshirt, kiss down her jaw, her neck, her exposed chest and sternum down to her stomach. vi lifts her hips from the bed so that you can remove her boxers, and you’re delighted to find nothing else underneath.

you’re greeted by her glistening pussy. blowing onto her folds, you run your tongue from her hole to her clit, loving how you already feel her slick coating your lips. vi spread her legs even wider, and you take the opportunity to sink two fingers into her cunt. you know her body, as well as you know your own, as well as she knows yours. you flick your gaze up, view slightly blocked by the pink curls of her bush, but you can still picture it — how her eyes roll back, how her mouth opens to release a perfectly delicious gasp.

"god, i've barely touched you and you're already about to cum. did you miss me that much?" you tease, feeling her clench around your fingers. as if you aren’t subtly rutting your hips against the mattress, eager to ease the throbbing between your legs.

all you get in response is whine. it’s muffled, and you crane your neck upward to see her biting down on her knuckles, so hard you’re worried she might break skin.

unacceptable.

the rest of the world gets to hear her every day, any time they please. you want to be serenaded by the lyrics of her want, the notes of her desire. all for you and you alone.

with your other hand, you reach up to pinch one of her pierced nipples, always so sensitive. "answer me, violet."

vi props herself up on her elbows to look at you, just as you remove your mouth from her.

"yes!" she sings, practically sobbing. you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel the throbbing between your thighs intensify, hearing the frantic lilt of her voice — like she needs you and only you. "i missed you so fucking much. please, just do something."

at her request, you move up the bed so that the two of you are face to face, one of your hands holding her chin while the other is two fingers deep in her cunt. you add another, just to reveal in the timber of her sultry moan. she tries to bring her hand back, to quiet herself, but you shake your head.

with your thumb, you trace over her lips, uneven and scarred and imperfectly beautiful. "open."

vi obeys you instantly. you spit in her mouth, heart racing as you watch her swallow the combination of your saliva and her cum without question.

you continue fucking her with your fingers until she moans, louder and louder as she reaches her peak.

removing your fingers from her pussy, you lock eyes with her as you bring your syrupy fingers to your mouth and suck off her juices. then, you kiss underneath her ear, lips sticking slightly to her skin, and you whisper: "now i know why they say you have the voice of an angel.”

“fuck,” she exhales, the breath turning into a chuckle as you kiss underneath her chin, where you know she’s ticklish.

"one more time for me, okay, pretty girl? i want to feel you against me," you whisper. "i want to watch you fall apart, knowing that i'm the one who makes you feel this good."

vi nods, allowing you to adjust your positions so that your cunts are touching. you start fucking her down into the mattress and she sits up slightly so that your nipples brush against each other, the cold metal of her piercings encouraging the roll of your hips, her nails digging into the curve of your ass to bring you impossibly closer.

“i missed you too. so fucking much,” you finally admit. you flick one of the silver rings before leaning down and wrapping your lips around her nipple.

“i missed these, too,” you add as you release her nipple with a pop, and vi moans. you’re grinning from ear to ear because, holy shit, vi is here and you’re together and you’re both happy, if only at the ecstasy of your silken cunts gliding against each other, at the taste of the other slicking your tongues, as thick as nectar and twice as sweet.

she laughs — love and magic and everlasting bliss — and you have to capture her lips now if you want to swallow the sound. you feel it bounce through your ribcage, awaken something deep within you that you feared was lost to time.

vi thrusts her hips upwards, presses harder against the seam of your cunt until you’re gushing against each other, not quite sure who’s making what mess.

strings of cum connect you as you remove your body from hers. for a few seconds, you both lay on your backs, staring up at the ceiling and trying to catch your breath. vi drapes an arm over her eyes, chest heaving.

you throw on some clothes and leave the room, hoping that vi’s still there when you get back.

….

vi worries that if she opens her eyes, she’ll wake up from this dream.

she’ll be in some uncomfortable bed in london or tokyo or los angeles. the dull ache between her legs would be thanks to some girl who’d be eager to text all her friends and spill all the details about what vi likes in bed, or caitlyn who would tell vi to shave next time, darling, or i won’t let you fuck me again anytime soon.

instead, vi hears the creak of a door opening, feet tiptoeing along the floorboards. the mattress shifts with the weight of someone between her legs, though their body is not touching hers.

“vi, baby,” a gentle coaxing, a familiar voice, pulling towards something she forgot she needed. her heart soars when she finds you kneeling on the bed, holding a damp towel in one hand and a glass of water in another.

“yeah?” her voice is hoarse, but her throat doesn’t sting in the same way it does after a concert. it feels tender, well-used, well-loved.

you hold out the cup of water, watch vi eagerly gulp down half of it before she realizes what she’s done.

“shit, i — did you want some?”

you smile and shake your head. “i had some downstairs after my shower.” it’s then that vi registers the water dripping from the ends of your hair, soaking the fabric of her (fine, your) sweatshirt. “i’m gonna clean you up. is that okay?”

vi nods.

okay? okay? vi thinks she might have whiplash.

it’s been a while since someone has fucked her so well she’d be satisfied for years and then touched her so tenderly afterwards. you run the damp cloth over vi’s sticky, sweaty skin, occasionally leaning down to press soft lips where you’d left teeth marks and bruises before.

“there.” you throw the cloth on the floor. “so, um. do you wanna stay….?”

you bite your lip as you wait for vi to answer. you start picking at your nail polish, too. vi sits up and grabs your hand.

“i do,” she soothes. “do you want me to?”

your smile brightens the entire room and you kiss vi before muttering:

“i do.”

vi slips on her boxers as you settle into the bed next to her, leaving her top half bare. she notices the sketchbook on your bedside table, and she lifts it up at you, a silent question if she can flip through. you take it from her as you shift to sit between her legs, her chest warm against your back. the room’s only illuminated by the string of multicolored christmas lights you’d left on, but vi can see the talent, the passion behind your work as you walk her through your sketchbook. you tell her about the techniques you’ve been working on and new mediums you want to explore, about how you want to make the kind of art that makes people appreciate the beauty in the everyday.

“i always loved your art,” she muses. vi cranes her neck slightly, places a kiss on your shoulder then one on your cheek. “the world would be more beautiful if you shared it.”

you hum and place the sketchbook on your bedside table. you each shift to your sides, facing each other; vi notches a leg around your hips, and you throw an arm around her waist, fingers trailing down her tattooed back.

“ekko talked to you, huh?”

“i would have said that even if he hadn’t,” vi promises. “so….have you heard anything yet?”

“well….yeah,” you sigh, smiling shyly. “i got in, actually.”

“really? that’s amazing, baby.” she beams at you, excitedly cupping your face in her hands, leaving small kisses across your cheeks until you’re giggling.

“okay, okay,” you laugh. “i don’t know if i’m gonna go yet.”

vi hums knowingly. she presses her forehead against yours.

“i know you’re scared, baby,” she says softly. “but sometimes it’s just a leap of faith.”

“i know.” you pause, gnawing at your bottom lip while your eyes fixate on the scar on her upper lip. “can i ask you something?

“anything.”

“when you proposed to me….” her body tenses up, but you brush your hand over her bicep and the tension in her muscles dissipates. “was that a leap of faith? like, were you scared?”

“well, not at first.” she takes a shuddery breath, her voice suddenly small. “i always thought that we’d be together….i just didn’t think through how we’d make it work, i guess. i didn’t mean to mess things up, though.”

“hey.” vi leans into the hand you cup around her cheek. “we both messed up. we never actually talked, you know? but….i’m glad we are, now.” you swallow. “i still love you, vi.”

vi exhales. “you know, girls tell me that they love me pretty much every day.”

you can’t help it — you roll your eyes, and vi laughs. because, truthfully, her heart has felt more full at your admission of love just now than it ever has for an area of screaming fans.

“there’s a point to this, i promise,” she says, nudging her nose against yours. “i used to get such a thrill from it….but then i think about what you said earlier. my heart — it’s just not in it anymore. all the band is now is drama and gossip and compromises of fame over art, and…. i don’t know. it’s not really what i want anymore. i want to be with you. for real, this time.”

you blink at her; she can feel your chest pulsing against hers like a hummingbird.

“would you, um, if i were to take that leap of faith and do that artist residency, would you —”

“anywhere you wanna go,” vi promises. she thinks about it a bit more….how nice it’s been to be home for the holidays, how nice it would be to come home year round. “preferably close enough so we can have dinner at home on the weekends.”

“sounds like a plan,” you smile.

the two of you twist closer underneath the flannel sheets, sink into the mattress, and gaze up at the faded glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to your ceiling until you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

you jolt awake a few hours later, several firm knocks on the door and ekko shouting:

“it’s christmas! get the fuck up before ziggy eats all the bacon!”

beside you, vi protects you from the frosty winter morning. her body radiates warmth, and her eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, as you gently shake her shoulder.

she groans, turning on her back, rubbing sleep from her eye.

“i better go.”

“....yeah.”

you flush when you glance over as vi’s slipping on her sweatshirt, rose-petal bruises delicate across her skin. she opens the window, hair still mussed up, and a gust of frigid air rushes into the room.

the image is so familiar: vi, one leg in your room and another out the window. you feel like a teenager again, scrambling to get dressed and avoid anyone hearing that you’d snuck your girlfriend into your room late at night. but there’s something else now, too — you imagine this becoming routine: waking up next to each other every day, swapping clothes, kissing over coffee and pancakes at breakfast. a place where the two of you might create some new memories, build a shared life together. and much more, so much more that feels like it could be your reality, sooner rather than later.

you’re so deep in thought that you don’t notice vi rushing back towards you. she kisses you and kisses you, until your lungs are burning.

"merry christmas, baby,” she mumbles against your lips.

you grin back at her. “merry christmas, vi.”

....

hi baby, i know you’re at studio right now, but i forgot to ask you this morning: how do you feel about sending out holiday cards this year? i know they’re kind of cheesy, but it seems like the type of thing married couples might do…..

anyways, we’ll talk about it when you get home. i’m test-driving this new recipe for brussel sprouts to bring to dinner at my dad’s.

i’ll see you later. love you!

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summertimesadnessirl · 2 days ago

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It's about how when I'm in a room my whole life I walk into that room and rank women based on skinniest to fattest and I can't stop.

It's about how women who are skinnier than me always pretend to be my friend and be happy for me but also complain about how fat they are in front of me and expect me to comfort them. It's about how skinnier women used to expect me to be their cyrano and talk to boys on their behalf, so they could be cool and quiet and mysterious. It's about how when I got into the workplace, skinnier women bullied me. And I didn't treat them as my superior or myself as their inferior. They just do that, automatically. Because everyone knows that's how the story is supposed to go.

It's about the film Ever After, where they can imagine a feminist retelling of the story but one of the evil stepsisters is just a pretty girl with pretty hair who looks cute in her renn Faire gowns and is a size 12.

It's about the fact that even in depictions today, the fat girl sees winning as getting the guy who rejected her for being fat and the skinny girl sees winning as getting a good career and befriending his new girlfriend and getting a new person who doesn't need to be convinced she's good enough.

It's about the fact that if a skinny woman wears a basic outfit it's fashion and if I wear it, it's frumpy.

It's about the fact that when fat girls go to the grocery store and buy the same groceries as a skinny girl, people judge them. When skinny girls and fat girls eat the same foods in public, one is drowning the sorrows of her pathetic life and the other is doing something adorable and cute and feminine.

It's about the fact that I have wanted a pair of fucking goth boots with the buckles and shit all my life but they don't make that in my size because goths are supposed to look like they are dying of a wasting disease.

It's about the fact that when I lose weight, men parentify me less and treat me more like I'm allowed to fuck up or be playful or selfish and make mistakes because we associate being fat with looking like someone's mom.

It's about the fact that the default insult for women is fat.

It's about the fact that fat people get offered a lower rate of pay with the same resume.

It's about the fact that no matter what else I have going on in my life, people tell me I have no self control and assume I am untrustworthy. It's about the fact that even when I had 3 jobs and no car and walked several miles between those jobs people called me lazy because of the size of my ass.

It's about the fact that all a woman has to do is be skinny.

No one in my life understands that it's not "just about f00d"

It's the voice in my head SCREAMING at me that 3at1ng is equivalent to failure & shame; that the number on the scale is the determiner for my happiness.

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hcneymooners · 1 day ago

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⋆ woman of my dreams, don't betray me.

wife!ambessa x wife!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you and ambessa are wives, and your parents have come to visit the two of you. everything will be fine, or would've been if you mother hadn't brought up her desire for grandchildren.

cw: angst, angst with a happy ending, wife!ambessa, wife!reader, age difference, older woman/younger woman, sfw but suggestive content, emotional hurt/comfort, you're a little bit of a crybaby, anxiety attacks, discussions of children and pregnancy.

notes: i hate this so much, but ce la vie hmm? this is a drabble.

“Sweet girl, don't bite your nails. You'll be so upset later.”

“You'll just give me the money to get them done,” you mutter.

Still, your hands lower from your mouth to tremble yet again over the dinner you've painstakingly made.

Ambessa moves behind you, her presence steady and warm against your back. Her hands settle on your shoulders, thumbs working small circles into the knots that have been building there all day. You lean into her touch despite yourself, despite the anxiety that makes you want to vibrate out of your skin.

“Will this occur before or after you protest against me giving you too much?”

A laugh slips out of you before you can stop it, and you turn to slide your arms around her neck. You take in the strong line of her jaw, the crooked set of her lips with it’s thin stripe of golden jewlery in the middle. You thumb at it, face flushing slightly as she nips at the tip of your finger.

“My nails have yet to cost five hundred dollars, Bessa.”

“I include the tip.”

“I must be incredibly generous.”

“You are,” she hums, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Besides, you never think of tax.”

“Tax?” You say in disbelief. “What tax would they be adding that costs that much? Honestly, Bessa.”

“You never know,” she says with a slow smile. “They could swindle you very easily. You have such a trusting nature.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you tell her, cupping her face.

"Talk to me," she says, and her voice carries that gentle authority that first drew you to her. You turn away, your attempts at misleading her thwarted. "Is it your mother again?”

You stiffen under her hands. "Among other things." The roast in front of you blurs slightly.

You can picture her expression without turning around - that careful neutrality she wears when she's processing something that angers her. It's the same look she gets in meetings when someone has said something particularly stupid.

"And what did you say to her?"

"Nothing. I deleted it. I’ve never been any good at convincing her to leave me alone." You pull away from her hands to adjust a perfectly arranged plate for the third time. "It's easier than explaining. Than having the same argument over and over about how I'll change my mind, how I just haven't met the right person yet." You pause, throat tight. "As if you're not..."

"As if I'm not what?" There's an edge to her voice now, not angry but intent. When you don't answer, she gently turns you to face her. "Look at me, little dove."

You do, though it hurts. She's beautiful in the warm kitchen light, silver hair gleaming, dark eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that still makes your heart skip even after all this time. You see the question in them and can't bear to answer it.

"The table still needs-"

"The table is perfect. You're being avoidant."

A laugh bubbles up, slightly hysterical. "Isn't that what I do best?"

"No." Her hand cups your cheek. You can smell her: blonde wood, vetiver, pink pepper, dry vanilla. "What you do best is love fiercely and completely. And we agreed that that meant being honest with one another.”

She titls your head up, presses a thumb against your pulse. The action makes you almost confess the words that crowd your throat, threatening to spill out:

I'm terrified you'll realize I can't give you the family you deserve. That one day you'll look at me and see all the things I'm not, all the things I can't be. That you'll regret choosing someone so much younger, so much less certain of their place in the world. That my mother is right and I'm being selfish, denying you something fundamental.

But before you can voice any of it, the doorbell rings. Your whole body goes rigid. Your hands come to your sides and you’re back to shaking, neck burning with sudden stress.

“I’ll get the door,” you say.

Your voice is rasping, as if you’ve swallowed down endless snakes of smoke.

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Dinner is excruciating. Your mother talks about your cousin's new baby, about how wonderful motherhood looks on her, about how she's "simply glowing." You push food around your plate and feel Ambessa's concerned glances, even as she masterfully deflects conversation toward politics, toward her work, toward anything else.

But with each deflection, you can feel her growing more tense beside you - the way she sets her wine glass down with just a fraction more force, how her knife scrapes against the china with military precision.

"But really," your mother says, wine glass tilting dangerously in her hand, "I just don't understand why you two haven't started trying yet. Ambessa, dear, you must want more children? And you're not getting any younger-"

The fork clatters from your hand. "Mother."

You can feel your body pulsing with that sick warmth that comes with the rush of tears. You’re boring a hole through the dining room table with your gaze, eyes growing large and wet. If you were a lamb, you’d be bleating except your mother is the wolf so who will be the one to save you?

Beside you, Ambessa goes perfectly, terrifyingly still. The kind of stillness that precedes a storm, that makes the hair on the back of your neck rise. You can see her hand flat against the table, the metal of her rings catching the light, and you know without looking that her face has taken on that marble-smooth expression that makes junior officers quake in their boots.

"I'm only giving you something to think about, my love. I’ve been you before. You think you have so much time, you know? It’s just—you've always been so good with kids, sweetheart. Remember how you used to babysit for the Hendersons? And Ambessa's children turned out so well-"

"Stop." Your voice comes out strangled. "Please."

Ambessa's hand sneaks under the table to grasp your thigh. The touch is slightly grounding but you can feel the tremor in her fingers - not from fear, but from restraint. You know she wants you to look at her, but then you'll really begin to lose it.

You'll spill over, right into her lap, because she always could unlatch your body in ways you thought were only for other people.

You catch the slight movement of her jaw, the way she swallows whatever cutting remark she wants to make. Because this is your mother, and Ambessa—for all her power, all her authority, because of the love—is letting you handle this your way. But the tension in her body screams of fury, of a woman forced to watch her beloved take wounds she can't deflect.

"I don't see why you're being so sensitive about this. It's a natural progression-"

"Natural?" You're standing now, though you don't remember deciding to. "Natural is me not wanting to vomit every time someone mentions me being pregnant. Natural is not having a panic attack every time you send me another fertility clinic link or baby clothes or-" Your voice breaks. "I can't. I can't do this."

You flee, ignoring your mother's startled "Well!" and your father's awkward attempt to change the subject. You're halfway up the stairs before the tears start properly, and by the time you reach your bedroom, you can barely see. The door locks behind you with a satisfying click.

You stumble to the vanity, clutch blindingly at your hair to yank out the pins. You feel out of control, your hands sliding up your neck and over your face.

A sob slips out despite you clutching your fingers over your mouth, and you press at your stomach until you feel the urge to dispel the mixture of your decayed dinner and acid that sits within it.

The bed. You need to be under the bed. It's childish and ridiculous but it's where you used to hide when things got too much, and right now everything is too much. You curl up in the darkness there, pressed against the wall, and try to remember how to breathe.

Time passes. You hear murmured voices downstairs, the front door opening and closing. Footsteps on the stairs - Ambessa's, you'd know them anywhere.

"Little dove?" A gentle knock. "Let me in?"

"It's unlocked," you manage, voice thick.

The door opens. A pause.

"Are you under the bed?"

"...yeah."

Another pause. Then, to your utter astonishment, you hear grunting and turn to find Ambessa - your tall, dignified, warrior-queen wife - attempting to squeeze herself under the bed frame.

"What are you doing?" you ask, hiccuping between tears and startled laughter.

"Coming to get you," she says, voice strained as she wriggles forward. "Though I'm beginning to think this bed was not built for someone of my size."

"You're going to get stuck."

"Then we'll be stuck together." She finally manages to get next to you, though she has to lie completely flat to fit. "Hello, sweet girl."

A rush of gratitude floods you and you press forward, drawing her into a soft kiss. She deepens it, sliding a large hand underneath your thigh and holding you to her. You part with a soft, slick noise.

“You’re always meeting me where I am, even when you don’t understand,” you tell her. “Literally.”

You gesture weakly at the whole predicament. The absurdity of it - Ambessa Medarda, covered in dust bunnies, cramped under a bed - breaks something in you.

"I have this terrible secret inside me, and it’s that I feel so—so sick when I think about being a mother," you blurt out. The words slide out of you, like maggots from a rotting body. "Not—not your children, I love them, but being one myself. Having them. I can't. I won't. And I know you must want- but I can't, I just can't, please don't leave me.” You begin to sob again. “Please, Bessa. Please don’t leave me. Please. Plea-”

"Shh." She pulls you closer, awkward in the confined space but no less tender for it. You tuck your head into her neck as she soothes you. "Shh, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

"But-"

"I have two children," she says firmly. "Two wonderful, grown children who I love dearly. I have never once thought about having more. What I want - all I want - is you. Happy. Whole. Exactly as you are."

You're crying again, but differently now. "Really?"

"Really." She strokes your hair, rocking you as best she can in the tight space. "Though I would very much like to have this conversation somewhere with fewer dust bunnies."

You laugh wetly into her shirt. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I would crawl under a thousand beds for you. Even into a grave." She kisses your forehead. "But perhaps we could move on top of this one? My back is not what it used to be."

"You’re really not getting any younger," you quip, the onslaught of relief making you giddy.

"Watch it, little dove." But she's smiling - you can hear it in her voice. "Now come out before we really do get stuck."

“What if we stayed here forever,” you whisper, “and you never let me go?”

She releases you, then shimmies out from the crawl space. Gently, she curls a hand around your ankle and pulls you out with a sharp yank. You gasp as you emerge from your hiding space, hair spilling around you and your dress rucked up just enough to display your panties.

Ambessa leans over, drags the dress further up until she can kiss the swell of your breasts. She looks up you, face ever-calculating.

“I will never release you,” she finally says.

It should scare you, the clear promise, but it doesn’t. You lead her hand to your throat, just to hold it there, and smile instead.

#ambessa medarda #ambessa x you #ambessa x y/n #ambessa x reader #ambessa arcane #ambessa league of legends #ambessa the chosen of the wolf #female!reader #fem!reader #arcane fanfic #arcane x you #arcane x reader #wlw #lesbian #sapphic #mine ; 🐎.

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thisisntmyrightera · 2 days ago

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Together - CHO HYUN-JU x Fem Reader Part 3

Summary: Reader is scammed and abandoned by her boyfriend, leaving her alone in South Korea to her fate, so in desperate search of a solution to return to her home country she decides to join the squid games to get money, within the game she meets a couple of people who become her friends and could possibly be something more.

Warning: Violence, homophobia mention of attempted rape and sexist language

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◻○△ Hyun-Ju POV △○◻

The lights had barely gone out when Y/N had fallen asleep using one of her arms as a pillow and even though I was lying on my side, the space she used was still tiny, I could cover her with my arms and make her disappear without any problem.

The strands of her hair fell carefully and perfectly arranged around her head, some on her face where her long eyelashes adorned her cheeks, it was so strange to see and even more difficult to understand.

Previously, before I began with my identity recognition, my appearance attracted too many girls, many of them interested in my position and the economic benefits that this could bring to their lives, but I never felt attracted to them, they were all the same and empty.

But then why did I feel like this now? She could be my little sister, the fragile and sweet girl that I could take care of but my heart didn't feel that way, my stomach turned when she took my hand with fear, taking care that the bond didn't break so she wouldn't get lost from my side, my heart beat a thousand times faster when her eyes narrowed every time she smiled, my head spun every time she told me those words of encouragement making me see that I never made a mistake and that being who I am is no problem, she was the reason now for wanting to get out of this game and it didn't matter if I won the money or not, she was the best thing I had ever won.

Aren't you sleepy?…- she whispered making me jump slightly but I remained silent looking at her - don't pretend you're asleep… I can feel your gaze I'm sorry, I'm not sleepy yet..- I smiled at nothing feeling embarrassed for being discovered You should rest, tomorrow we will need strength to continue playing - her eyes barely opened illuminated with the warm light of the piggy bank - what are you thinking so much about? Thinking? What do you mean? - I looked at her curiously trying to pretend that everything was fine If you can't sleep, it's because your head is busy, what's wrong? - Damn, how did she know me so well? Just 3 days were enough for her to read me like the palm of her hand I was thinking… that… that this would be the last game we could play and then we would vote to withdraw from the competition - I smiled barely arranging a lock of her hair that covered her eyes I see, I was thinking the same thing, I don't want to be here anymore, when I get out I'll look for a job, no matter how bad the pay is, I just want to get out and go home - she sighed tiredly

If you don't mind telling me, now I would like to know why you decided to come to these games, what's your story?

Well… -she sighed deeply biting the inside of her lip a little and with another sigh she looked at me again- a year ago I met a guy online, he fell in love with me and he promised me that we would have a long and happy relationship, we went out for a couple of months just through messages and calls and one day he proposed to come to Korea to meet him and if everything went well I would stay with him to live and we would start a family, so… I quit my job and bought a ticket to come here… I met him and everything was going well but a couple of months later he… took all my money and disappeared, he barely paid the last month's rent and luckily they didn't throw me out but… -her gaze lowered sadly feeling ashamed- it was a stupid thing, I should never have trusted someone I didn't know

Men are disgusting… well.. you.. you understand - she laughed a little wiping her wet eyes - then you need the money for?..

To go back home, buy a plane ticket and go back to my country, I'm not welcome here and people have let me know in many possible ways, I just want to go with my family and start over what I left behind

Oh… - my heart felt like it was breaking into a thousand pieces, a part of me thought that by leaving this game she and I could get to know each other a little more, but she just wanted to run away from here, like I wanted and never hear from anyone else again - then… you'll leave

Yes I think so, but don't worry, once we get out we'll continue being friends and when I have a job I'll pay for all the necessary trips to visit you in Thailand - her eyes narrowed with the smile that formed on her lips, it was so comforting but at the same time so painful to hear that.

I didn't understand why it hurt, I had never felt that feeling of pain and abandonment in that sense, the sense of being in love with her.

Is something wrong? - Her small hand slowly touched my cheek making me focus my attention back on her just shaking my head smiling a little

Everything is fine, it's just that… I will miss my best friend as long as she doesn't come to visit me… - I lied and lied again when I told her I was sleepy and we had to sleep, I spent the night awake, watching her sleep once sleep overcame her again

The next morning, at the sound of the loudspeaker, everyone got up, as if so many hours had passed without even feeling the passage of time.

She barely woke up and jumped out of bed as if she had regained all the energy she had lost in the previous days, put on her shoes and almost ran down to greet Jun-Hee and ask her if she had slept well and if her baby had moved during the night. Y/N had barely found out that 222 was pregnant she kept asking her questions, excitedly showing that she couldn't wait for her turn.

Her authentic happiness made me feel much worse, it made me feel selfish, I wanted her for myself but I couldn't give her anything she wanted, I wouldn't give her the happy life, nor the family she dreamed of, it was a martyrdom and I only thought that I had made the worst decision to be the way I am now.

That is your punishment - the shaman laughed leaning on the bedposts - for following the wrong path that the gods wrote for you, now you will suffer, you love her but you will not have her

I don't know what you are talking about ma'am - I looked at her closing my sweater and arranging my hair with my fingers

Oh no? We are not stupid, we all know what you think when you look at her, how much you want to kiss her and show her that you love her but you don't, because you know that she doesn't like people like you, she only talks to you out of pity and she will never like you - the woman laughed, knowing that she had broken the last thing that was left in a piece inside me, she knew my secret and could use it against me to make me weak at any moment

Shut your mouth you damn bitch, you only know how to say shit, why don't you pray to the gods to give you a new brain uh? Get out of here - Geum-Ja confronted her pushing her away with her hands making the shaman go away laughing while I sat on the steps with my insides destroyed - girl, don't listen to her, that woman attacks where she knows she will truly destroy, don't give her that pleasure

She's right… - I looked at her sadly while she sat next to me brushing my hair with her fingers

Is she right? About we all know you have feelings for that girl? Of course she's right, but she'll never be right in stating what she feels or doesn't feel for you and we won't know until she tells you, maybe she sees you as an older sister or maybe as her best friend… -she smiled at me taking my hand- or maybe, deep inside, where no one knows her secrets, she feels for you the same as you do for her and it doesn't matter if you think you're not enough for her, when you're the right person for someone, all dreams come true

Do you believe in that? - I looked at her again feeling my lungs fill with air once again with her loving motherly smile

Of course, it doesn't matter what you were before or what you are now or if you are both girls, if love is sincere then love can do everything and I know you will fight to save yourself but especially her and I promise you that once we leave you two will go to my house and we will eat the best kimchi you have ever tasted, do you understand? - She laughed patting my back making me smile

''Players, it's time for a new game, please line up and leave in order following the masked soldiers''

Hyun-Ju, let's go - Y/N called me making me look at her quickly while she smiled

Go with her, I'll go with my son - Geum-Ja patted me again standing up as we both went down

Don't leave my side okay? - I looked at her as she nodded smiling and stood in front of me in the line of players

◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△

The instructions had been clear and one thing was clear to me, I should not separate myself from Y/N at any time, she would be my priority in this game and no matter how many players there were, she would be the one who would always be by my side.

The platform spun to that traumatizing childhood song, everyone silently looking at each other

''10'' - The speaker spoke making us freeze

There are 4 of us, we need 6 more - Yong-Sik shouted desperately pulling his hair

Y/N! Here, there are 5 of us - Dae-Ho shouted pulling Y/N's arm making her look at him

There are 4 of us - I pulled her other arm bringing her back to me looking at him annoyed - Run to a room I'll look for one more

No Hyun-Ju I won't leave, let's go together - Y/N looked at me scared shaking her head

Don't worry, run! - I took her hand giving it to Dae-Ho making him pull her while I screamed looking for person 10 taking whoever the first person I saw was pulling her into the room

''10..9..8..7.''.- the speaker spoke making me nervous when I was able to enter the room and close the door almost fainting without oxygen in my lungs and the countdown reached zero we all looked at each other, the shots could be heard leaving us stunned as we caught our breath

Everyone is alive thanks to me! - the shaman shouted looking at us one by one - ah… I see why I'm here, to save your little friend's life - she laughed pointing at me

Don't start you damn crazy - Geum-Ja looked at her annoyed

As soon as the lock was removed and the door opened, everything was a bloodbath, we all walked in fear looking around confused when I felt a warm hand take mine.

You said we wouldn't separate… don't do that again - Y/N looked at me with her wet eyes

I'm sorry..- I smiled barely squeezing her hand walking slowly together so as not to slip with the blood on the floor

Again the song began to play and the platform turned again, this time with fewer players on it

''4'' - the speaker rang as soon as the song stopped making us look at each other

Run! Run now - I squeezed her hand pulling her as Geum-Ja and Yong-Sik followed us into the room and I closed the door leaning my back against it so no one could open it

This is so tiring… it's torture - Yong-Sik sat on the floor with his head in his hands desperate

Are you okay? - I looked at Y/N who was breathing heavily looking at the floor

Yes.. - she barely answered catching her breath

Again the lock opened letting us out, there was more blood and fewer people, the floor was sticky making our steps difficult until we reached the platform, once again the game began, the lights came on and the song played loudly

''3'' - the speaker announced making us look at each other again

What do we do? - Y/N looked at me scared

Come with me, we're doing in pairs and we'll look for someone - I grabbed her hand tightly, running screaming looking for someone, being pushed by Yong-Sik into the room

What are you doing here? Where's your mother? - I looked at him scared as he caught his breath

What?…what are you talking about? - he looked at me adjusting his misplaced glasses

The teams are 3 Yong-Sik, where did you leave your mother? - Y/N looked at him screaming upset

What? I understood 4, damn it - Yong-Sik tried to leave stumbling and throwing his glasses on the floor

This time Y/N let go of my hand and left quickly, grabbing Geum-Ja by the clothes skillfully by the back pulling her into the room with such force making her almost fall when she hit the wall and then she takes the door and closing it, now she was outside

No…Y/N NO, COME IN! - she looked at me through the gap in the door, her bright eyes looked at mine for the last time and then she ran - no, please no - the sound of the lock on the door rang and no matter how hard I pulled on it, it was impossible to open it

'' 10..9..8..7 ''

NO, NOT LIKE THIS, NOT HER - I looked at Geum-Ja pulling on my hair, my knees became weak making me fall on the floor as my tears fell

''6…5…4…3''

PLEASE DON'T KILL HER, DON'T SEPARATE HER FROM ME!..

''2…1…''

◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△

Can you guess what would happen in the next episode? Can you guess who have a crush with Y/N? Let me read you! :3

Thanks for reading, I'll be back soon!

Tag List!

@kuureii @sann1e @sunflowers-are-heaven @bridellashiper @etta-huracan @cupiid1 @alianacelinecolux @juliexz @duchcess

#squid game #squid game 2 #cho hyunju #cho hyun ju #cho hyun-ju #squid game imagine #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #cho hyun ju x reader #cho hyun ju imagine #cho hyun ju fluff #cho hyunju imagine #park sunghoon imagine #park sunghoon #park sung hoon #park sung hoon imagine #park sung hoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader

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ennabear · 2 days ago

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hehehe haiii twin 🤭🤭 making my yappery reblog comeback with this blurb because it’s so adorable and i’ve read it a million times already… also i’m not really sure if any of this will be legible because i’m half asleep with a migraine so… BUT I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE THIS AND I LOVE ELLIEBEAR HEHEHEHE

your relationship with her was still very new, full of shy glances, giggles, and tingles when your fingers grazed - both of you wanted to be perfect for the other. to not rush. but to say you didn't long to be kissed was a lie.

omg i’m gonna cry this is so cute… shy loser ellie I NEED YOUUUUUU 😭 the way i long to be kissed by her is crazy how did you know… sighhh you write her so beautifully it’s like she’s real and in my phone 😞😞😞

you stared at those pouty rosebud lips of hers, and dreamed about how they'd feel on yours. you counted her freckles and fantasized about ghosting your lips over each and every one of them, igniting her cheeks in a blush; a hue so deep it makes them vanish. luckily for you, the perfect moment was fast approaching.

stop this rn… bae… i’m sobbing… those freckles… the way i would kiss the shit out of her is crazy I WANNA SMOOCHY SMOOCH HERRRRRRRUGHHH omg i’m gonna throw my phone how are u doing this… literally every way you describe her is so adorable i’m 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 perfect moment fr i need her to be my new years kiss even though it’s january 4th

you two decided to watch the fireworks outside in a clearing, so you could stargaze before and after the main event. it was cold, and you felt her nuzzle closer to you-your heart skipped a beat. you nudged her with your shoulder, "ellie, it's almost time!"

:((((( now i wanna stargaze with her and get all cozy and cuddle with her and look at the sky and be warm and and and and…. give her a kith…

you were met with a dazed murmur, a grumpy sound. you shook the silly girl awake, melting at her adorable expression-sleepy as a nesting owl. she jumped when a sudden firework shot up in the sky, creating a sparkly golden trail. you looked at them too, but you were more focused on the glint in her eyes—a wonder and joy like none other. she turned to you, grinning as wide as ever, but you had other plans.

HEHEHEHE AWWWW her falling asleep is so meeeee i’m bawling i’m screaming i’m crying i’m sobbing 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 twin have i ever told you that you’re the best writer in the world… because you are… the way you describe this whole scene is so perfect i can see it so clearly it’s crazy… how are u doing that… need you to write a book next please and thanks!!!!!

"yay! happy new year! i—" escaped from her paired with a gleeful chuckle, only you cut her off by pressing your lips to hers without a warning, leaving her breathless. she was so soft, velvety lips and the warmth of her unsteady gasps fanning your face.

shortly, she kissed you back lovingly, sweetly, tenderly, as if you were made of precious ceramic, her hand gently cradling yours.

KITH KITH KITH KITH KITH KITH!!!!! i can’t take this anymore ellie come out where are you this isn’t funny bae… its okay i just want a kiss… and to hold your hand… and cuddle… and take a nap… please… dont make me ant on a stick rn… i need to give her a ninions kiss so bad omg it hurts… put my whole tongue in her mouth and blush like 🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅 until we’re both yellow… uhhhhh does that mean anything idk

you broke apart to smile at her, canines bared and everything, and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. your heart grew many sizes looking at her like this, you haven't felt such adoration for someone so fast in what feels like forever. your voice was shaky with emotion, nothing but positivity, and you whispered while you rested your forehead against hers, "happy new year, ellie. here's to a good one."

i adore her so much and i adore u twin i’m sobbinggggg I WANT TO KISS HER SO BAD… oh no what’s happening my lips are cold and lonely… if only i had her to keep them warm all year… and then again next year… and the year after… sighhhhh too bad she’s only in my phone… i guess i’ll just have to read through twins whole masterlist to keep myself sane…

i just know new years with ellie would be so damn special. have this i farted out in two seconds...i miss writing so bad.

your relationship with her was still very new, full of shy glances, giggles, and tingles when your fingers grazed—both of you wanted to be perfect for the other. to not rush. but to say you didn't long to be kissed was a lie.

you two decided to watch the fireworks outside in a clearing, so you could stargaze before and after the main event. it was cold, and you felt her nuzzle closer to you—your heart skipped a beat. you nudged her with your shoulder, "ellie, it's almost time!"

you were met with a dazed murmur, a grumpy sound. you shook the silly girl awake, melting at her adorable expression—sleepy as a nesting owl. she jumped when a sudden firework shot up in the sky, creating a sparkly golden trail. you looked at them too, but you were more focused on the glint in her eyes—a wonder and joy like none other. she turned to you, grinning as wide as ever, but you had other plans.

shortly, she kissed you back lovingly, sweetly, tenderly, as if you were made of precious ceramic, her hand gently cradling yours.

#i missed yapping even tho this was small but i had to attack twin with my first long rb of the year #hehehehehehe #i’m taking some ibuprofen now and drinking lots of water and gonna think about kissing her for the rest of the year probably #😞😞😞😞😞😞#hehehehehe twin is back with the blurbs i think we need to celebrate #WHOS WITH MEE #enna’s favs #enna’s favorite favs!! ♡#mwah a kiss for my plubear

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gothamhappiness · 2 days ago

Text

Death can't keep us apart (f!reader x Bruce Wayne - part II)

Hi everyone, this is the second and last part of this fic about reader dying / the Batfamily darkly reacting to it.

As a reminder, the first part ends on Damian telling Bruce that his grandfather might be able to bring reader back from the grave.

Hope you'll enjoy <3

Warnings: no proof reading, ANGST and more ANGST, no happy ending, despair, sadness, insanity, dark!Batfamily

Everything was going to be alright.

Even if everyone knew it was a terrible idea.

And yet no one could care any less.

Bruce would have eagerly sold his soul to the devil if it meant getting you back. He knew the pain of your absence would never get away and he wasn’t too certain how long he would be able to survive it. No matter if Gotham needed him and his children. His duty was long forgotten; even a soldier needs happiness to keep going, even bats need the sun to not get lost.

Bruce found Ra's Al Ghul with crazed determination. He let go of his weapons and toys, to show his opponent that he actually wasn’t here to fight. Ra’s had no idea what was going on, Talia was afraid to understand when Bruce knelt in front of the old man.

“I’ll do anything you want, but bring my wife back. Damian said you could and I believe you know how to.” Batman pleaded

“Anything?” Ra’s asked, knowing how love could be the most efficient way to destroy someone

“Anything”

Bruce agreed to become his heir and the new Head of the Demon. He agreed to embrace a very dark part of himself. He agreed to let the League of Assassin roam inside his manor. But it didn’t matter. Even his children agreed with everything. The price was high but it was the only option.

Talia watched in silence and with sadness. She couldn’t even be happy for her father. She knew that Bruce was simply losing himself. She hoped the price wasn’t too high, she hoped you were going to come back alright and she hoped that Bruce would find a way back to himself. She noticed how Damian was also eager to get you back home. She was grateful you took care of her boy so tenderly. But she hated you for being such a weakness.

A pathetic weakness.

The most powerful weakness.

She even made her son promise that once you would be back, he would protect you so nothing could ever happen to you again. She was aware that otherwise the people who loved you would burn the whole world down and it wouldn’t be a happy ending for anyone. Not even the Justice League would be able to do anything about it, she was certain of it.

Love consumed everything, like a burning sun.

And their love for you was a crying volcano.

When you woke up, you were in your bed. It was strange, because you were pretty certain that last time you were awake, you were on a very uncomfortable chair. You had a massive headache and your whole body was aching too. You were completely disoriented, half wondering what you were doing here. You tried to remember what happened, but the headache grew even stronger. You took your skull in both your hands, whining in pain. You barely felt bigger hands gently stroking your hair. You didn’t hear the soft whisperers of reassuring words either, until you slowly calmed down.

When you relaxed again as the pain subsided a little, you looked up and saw Bruce watching over you.

He looked so pale, so exhausted. He searched for your eyes with such raw despair; it worried you. You reached for his face and he instantly leaned into your touch. Your warmth was already a balm to his suffering. He closed his eyes for a brief moment. He wasn’t fully certain all of you were back, but he had lost enough of his sanity to be happy to just have your body alive again, no matter how much he would also want your mind, of course.

“How are you feeling, my love?” he whispered, testing the waters, tears in the eyes

“I… What happened, Bruce? Riddler… I…” you babbled, trying to gather your thought but your head started to pound again

“Shh, my beloved. It’s alright, everything is alright now” he shushed you as he brought you closer to him “You’re safe and loved. Nothing bad will ever happen to you again. I promise you.” he continued

“My head hurt.” you whispered

“I know. You can't take a med for it right away, but later on, after some food, you’ll be able to grab one. You’ll feel better soon.” he replied

“Have I been out for a while?” you asked because as you leaned against your husband’s form, you felt he had lost quite some weight and it couldn’t have happened just in a few hours.

“Nine months” Bruce finally replied and you looked up at him in pure shock

“Wait, what? But how is that even possible? Why am I not at the hospital then? Oh my God, Bruce, what happened to me?” you cried out

Bruce shushed you again and tried to appease you by cuddling you.

“You don’t have to worry about anything. You’re back, you’re awake and that's all that matters, trust me” he gave you a small smile and you bite your tongue.

“Are you okay, Bruce?” you frowned

“Yes, yes I am now” the man hummed as he leaned his forehead against yours.

He was relaxing for the first time in so many months. The pain finally left his body and mind. You were back home. You were safe. Your mind seemed intact, as well as your body. From now on, he could work with anything.

A soft knock at the door startled you. Alfred slightly opened the door. The man seemed as exhausted as Bruce. You noticed the appeasement and the relief washing over him as he saw you curiously peering at him from Bruce’s side.

“I’m sorry to interrupt the two of you, but food is ready” he informed you

You realised you were actually starving, as if you hadn’t eaten in… oh well yes, you didn’t eat in months indeed. You started to get up and Bruce carefully helped you. Your bones cracked a little as you stretched before starting to walk. You were feeling a little bit weak and still a little bit lost, so you let Bruce support you and guide you through the manor.

You knew something was awfully off when all the children got up as you entered the room. They came to you, helping you to sit down, all trying to touch you and kiss your cheeks and hands. They all wanted a seat next to you, they were all so agitated. You didn’t understand their unshed tears, their relief, their worried tenderness. You also noticed some people standing in the living room, like perfect little soldiers. You frowned and Bruce shushed you again.

“Don’t worry about anything, darling” he told you

You nodded, not understanding anything anyway.

You were happy to eat Alfred’s food and you relaxed a little as you focused on the delicious taste flooding into your mouth. Everyone around you started to eat once you did. You were surprised when you noticed how silent your family was. They all seemed to have their whole attention on you. Like your husband, they didn’t seem to be doing so well either.

“Maybe we could get a walk in town today, you all seemed like you could get some fresh air” you offered

“Look, my darling, a lot of things have changed in your… absence. And from now on, I’m afraid you won’t be able to leave the Manor.” Bruce softly informed you

“What?” you asked as you stopped eating

“It’s okay, Ma, keep eating” Jason instantly pleaded

“Yes it’s just for safety measures” Dick nodded

“We just need to keep an eye on you” Tim added

“We have been very worried about you but now you’re back” Stephanie tried to smile

“And you won’t leave us again” Damian muttered under his breath

“And you don’t need to worry about anything, we’ve got it” Duke tried to reassure you

“Nothing bad will ever happen again” Cass promised

It hit you.

It hit you so hard.

Your head was pounding because you got shot. You were… You were dead.

You were dead. You were dead. You were dead.

Oh my god you were dead.

But not anymore.

You felt sick. Your body felt wrong. Your mind was screaming.

The food tasted like iron.

You tried to remain calm, but you were going insane.

One of the soldiers came into view and walked to Bruce.

“Head of the Demon” he greeted Bruce.

You didn’t hear the rest of the words. Your head was spinning. You suddenly got up and everyone stopped eating or listening to what the member of the League of Assassins was telling Bruce.

“I need a shower” you said and rushed away before anyone could offer their help or stop you.

You locked yourself up in the bathroom, and turned on the water. You undressed and started to inspect your body. You got flashes from what happened with Riddler.

You remembered everything as you washed your body with a brush until your skin was raw. Once you were done, you went out of the shower and sat down on the ground before starting to cry. You couldn’t believe your family brought you back from the dead. How could they not understand how wrong it was?

You jumped when Bruce knocked at the door.

“My love, can you open the door please? You’ve been in there for a very long time” your husband pleaded with you, you could hear the worry lacing his voice.

You mechanically stood up and opened the door.

You didn’t care about your nakedness. Bruce cupped your face and frowned in pure sadness as the tears cascading down your face. He also disapproved of how harsh you had been with your body.

“Allow me to put some cream on your skin” he asked and you shrugged “Please” he whispered and you nodded.

He guided you to the bed and sat you down, before leaving for the bathroom and coming back with the expensive hydrating cream you used to put on your skin after every shower. He knelt down in front of you and started to coat your legs. He massaged your body, hoping you would relax under his touch.

“You shouldn’t have brought me back,” you whispered.

He froze for an instant before resuming his actions.

“Trust me, we didn’t have any other choice” Bruce gloomy replied “Now you’re back, I can finally work again, I can finally eat and rest. The children too. We are finally going to be alright again. The pain… The pain is gone.” he mumbled

“Bruce…” you choked on your tears

“We’ll keep you safe here. We’ll take care of you. We’ll do so much better. We’ll do everything you want. We just want you to be happy and among us. We’ll make sure to distract you from being locked up inside the manor. I’m sure you could rethink the decoration to keep you busy for a while. You'll read books and watch movies, you'll play video games. You'll do anything you want as long as you stay with us, at home. And at night, you can go in the park of the property” Bruce said, like the man who thought about everything “We just need you here, that’s all we’re asking”

“Ra's Al Ghul…” you started

“Yes. But it was worth it. It’s okay, really. Everything is alright” Bruce cut you

“You… Death shouldn’t be cheated like that”

“Death shouldn’t have taken you away from us, we fixed things like we always did.”

Happiness is sometimes dark, just like love.

That night Bruce finally fell asleep, with you tightly snuggled up in an embrace you couldn't break free from.

Your family proved to be even stronger than Death.

Even if it meant you now wanted to die and kill them all, even if you were losing your sanity, even if the Batfamily was getting so dangerous no one knew how to deal with them anymore.

But it was alright, because you were forever back home.

Taglists:

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

@tatsuri-zomushiki

@navs-bhat

@randomnamedmira

@winterhi09

@murkyponds

@qardasngan

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

Taglist for this mini series <3

@classicsimpforaaronwarner

@blue-iris09

@melday0105

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rafecswhore · 2 days ago

Text

INTRODUCING DAD RAFE

dad! rafe cameron headcons include

dad rafe cameron who...

1. is overprotective (sometimes too much)

• he side-eyes any boy who so much as looks at his daughter.

• “who’s this guy you’re texting? do i need to meet him? or scare him?”

• he’ll drop a casual “don’t mess with her” vibe that makes everyone nervous.

2. has a surprisingly soft side

• he’ll act all tough, but when his daughter hugs him or says “thanks, dad,” he’s toast.

• he’ll stop everything to get her favorite snacks or help her fix something—even if it’s just a chipped nail.

3. is lowkey the fun parent

• he lets her stay up late watching movies or sneaks her candy when he knows she’s already had enough.

• “don’t tell your mom, but you can drive the truck—just don’t hit anything.”

4. but can be the scary parent when needed

• if someone upsets his daughter, it’s over. “who said that to you? tell me their name. right now.”

• he’ll show up at school like, “you want to repeat that?” but always makes sure his daughter feels safe and supported.

5. still has chemistry with you

• he calls you “princess” just to annoy you, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes your stomach flip.

• your daughter loves teasing both of you, especially when the tension gets obvious. “just date already. it’s embarrassing.”

6. is always in his daughter’s corner

• if she’s nervous, he hypes her up. “you’ve got this. you’re a cameron, and that means you’re unstoppable.”

• even when she doubts herself, he’s her loudest cheerleader.

7. teaches her confidence, kook style

• “you walk in there like you own the place—because, honestly, you kind of do.”

• he makes sure she knows she’s capable of anything.

8. is hands-on, no matter what

• even with his busy schedule, he’s always there for school events, late-night talks, or impromptu beach days.

• he never lets her feel like she’s second to anything.

9. has a love-hate relationship with parenting drama

• he secretly loves being the parent other parents are intimidated by.

• if someone criticizes her, he’s the first to clap back. “maybe focus on your kid before worrying about mine.”

10. still values your opinions

• he’ll act like he doesn’t need your advice, but he does.

• “okay, fine. you’re right. happy?”

11. is the king of dad jokes

• no matter how many eye rolls he gets, he’s throwing in cheesy one-liners.

• “did you hear about the kidnapping at school? don’t worry—he woke up.”

#rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks au #outerbanks rafe #rafe x fem!reader #rafe x female reader #rafe x you #sarah cameron #rafe #rafe cameron #drew starkey

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redisthenewblue · 2 days ago

Text

TINKER- Twisted Wonderland x Tinkerbell!Yuu/Fem!Reader Part 1 Part 2

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Being a fairy like [Name] was definitely not for the faint-hearted. Fortunately, [Name] managed to hold her own. She was always seen as the smallest and weakest in the family, the one who seemed to drag everyone down. Her creative ideas were often brushed off in a family that preferred to stick to tradition. That’s why when Peter, a boy their age, actually showed interest in what she had to say, [Name] couldn’t help but latch onto him. Wherever Peter went, [Name] was usually right there, trailing behind. That is, until Wendy and her little brothers decided to tag along. At first, [Name] didn’t mind too much, but Wendy just had to make it worse by throwing some not-so-subtle flirts Peter's way.

So there they were, sitting by a tree, doing their usual thing. [Name] was tinkering with an old watch, John and Michael were play-fighting with wooden swords, and Peter had just given Wendy a beautiful sapphire pendant he found. “He’s given me a prettier pendant anyway,” [Name] thought, biting her lip as they focused harder on the watch.

“Oh Peter, I’m so happy I think I could give you a kiss!” Wendy exclaimed.

That was it. [Name] shot up from her spot, their wings jingling as they fluttered in a mix of anger and disbelief. A pale glow around them turned fiery red. Peter wouldn’t really go for that, would he?

“What’s a kiss?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Well... I’ll show you!” Wendy said, leaning in.

Before she could land a peck on Peter’s lips, [Name] swooped in, grabbing Wendy by the hair and yanking her backward. Peter swatted at [Name] like she were just a pesky fly, which would’ve stung if it wasn’t for the fact that they were fighting for their life up in the air.

“What’s the matter with you, [Name]?!” Peter shouted.

With arms crossed defiantly, [Name] replied, “What’s the matter with me?! I’ll tell you what the matter is! It’s her!” She turned their back on Peter, fuming.

“Then leave! I hereby banish you… forever!” Peter announced dramatically.

Whipping their head around, [Name] gritted her teeth, feeling her size shrink as they flew away.

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That was the last time [Name] saw Peter. Time passed, and she grew older, still has a bit of a loose temper but definitely more mature. If she got accepted into NRC, they would be picked up tonight. Despite her parents' disapproval due to the family’s belief of everyone filling their designated role in the village , [Name] couldn’t bear the thought of being stuck in the village all her life —not after all the work she put in. She stuffed every piece of clothing she might need into their bag, feeling her eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment. Yawning, she trudged over to her flower bed, snuggling into the soft petals and slowly drifting off to sleep.

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[Name] jolted awake, her wings twitching in what felt like confinement. Wait... why were their wings trapped? She felt around and tumbled out of a coffin onto the cold floor.

“Nyah?!”

Suddenly, a flash of blue fire and a mop of black hair caught her attention. “I better hurry up and find that uniform before someone spots me... Urgh, this lid weighs a ton! Try this on for size! Mya-ha!”

Fire?! What in the Sevens was going on? [Name] turned to see a boy with black hair. Strangely, she sensed no magic from him, which was pretty unusual for a magic school.

“Now to grab the goods... What?! You two aren't supposed to be awake!”

“A talking weasel?! Two?” The boy blinked, noticing the glittering fairy wings and petite stature of the girl behind him. As he reached out to touch the wings, [Name] slapped his hand away with an angry jingle. “Don’t touch,” she reprimanded.

How surreal was this dream? The boy thought, rubbing his hand to ease the sting.

“How... HOW DARE YOU! I’m no WEASEL! I’m Grim, sorcerer extraordinaire!”

“You don’t look so extraordinary,” [Name] shot back, a smirk forming.

“Tch. Whatever. You... Fly! Just give me your uniform, and be quick about it! More specifically, you insect!” Grim pointed at [Name] with his paw. “I bet I can fit your clothes! If you don’t... you’re gonna regret it!”

Insect? Please, [Name] was taller than this little pest by a long shot. Anger and embarrassment flushed their face.

“Getting slapped by a fairy and roasted alive by a weasel? What will I dream of next?”

“Well, keep dreamin', 'cause I ain't no weasel!”

Sure...

“Where am I?” the black-haired boy asked, looking around.

Now that was odd. Either this guy was slow or from another planet. Even in her small village of Fairy Hallow, people knew about prestigious schools like NRC.

"Foolish human! Did you really think you could slip away from ME? Unless you want to get burned to a crisp, take off that—Me-YEOW! That hurt! What gives?”

A whip seemingly from nowhere hit “the extraordinary Grim.” You’d have to be crazy to think [Name] wouldn’t seize this chance to get back at this little weasel for making fun of her height.

“Could the oh-so-powerful Grim not sense that?” [Name] snickered, the jingle of her wings adding salt to the wound.

“NYAH?! You!”

“Consider it tough love. Ah, I’ve found you two at last. Splendid! I trust you’re the new students for this year? My, were you children ever eager to make your debuts. And bringing a poorly trained familiar with you? That’s a clear violation of the school’s rules.”

“It’s not ours,” the duo said in unison.

“As if I’d serve some lowly human and an annoying fairy! Now lemme go!”

An irk mark appeared on [Name]’s forehead. The audacity of this cat was astonishing.

“Once I get my wand, I’ll—” the glow around [Name] began to turn red, but the headmaster cut them off. Maybe that was for the best; what she was about to say was definitely better left unsaid.

“Yes, yes. Rebellious familiars always say that. Do be quiet for a bit, won't you? Dear me. Of all the students I've dealt with, you two are the first with the audacity to open their own gate and step out of it. Does the very notion of patience elude you? No matter.” The older man scolded.

“Your orientation has already begun. Let us return to the Mirror Chamber.” As they walked, a question sparked within the boy.

“What do you mean by student...?”

“You awakened in a room full of gates, did you not? All the students here at the campus arrived by passing through such gates. Although typically—”

“You came through a coffin-shaped portal into Night Raven College, or NRC for short, a school for magic. The one leading us is the headmaster of the school,” [Name] interrupted, eager to explain. Leaning in closer, she whispered to the boy, “But I believe you don’t have any magic to attend, so you might be sent home.” The boy’s eyes widened slightly.

“Well said,” the headmaster praised, “But now is not the time for such prattle. You have a student orientation to attend! Go on, now. Make haste.”

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“Orientation and dorm assignments are done? All right, new students—let me be clear. At Heartslabyul House, I am the law. Break the rules, and it’s off with your head!” a boy with cherry-red hair proclaimed.

‘He’s probably going to be a dictator,’ [Name] muttered under her breath.

“Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever. I’m going back to the dorm. If you’re in Savanaclaw House, follow me,” yawned a male with lion ears.

‘It’s hardly even the afternoon yet.’

“New students! Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your achievement. As dorm leader of Octavinelle House, I’m honored to support you in what I hope will be a fulfilling campus experience.”

“He looks shifty,” the black-haired boy remarked, appalled at [Name]’s bluntness. How could she be so casual about it?!

“Hey, does anyone know where the headmage went? He disappeared midway through the ceremony?” a striking boy asked his fellow dorm leaders.

“Some headmage he is,” a voice emitted from a tablet.

“Maybe he had a tummy ache?” one suggested.

“I most certainly did not!” He argued.

The Red-Headed Boy crossed his arms across his chest “Ah, speak of the devil.”

“If you must know, I was searching for the new students who failed to show for orientation. You two are the only ones yet to be assigned a dorm. Step up to the Dark Mirror, and be quick about it. I’ll watch your weasel.” Crowley explained to the House wardens.

[Name] was the first to step up, revealing her face to the mirror.

“State thy name,” commanded the mirror.

She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, “ [Name] Faye.”

“ Her soul is incredibly strong and unwavering. You hold immense potential, [Name] Faye. You’re perfect for Diasomnia.”

“Wait a minute… You’re a girl?!”

The room erupted into hushed whispers.

“What’s wrong with being a girl?” [Name] asked, her brows knitting together in confusion, placing her hands on her hips.

“The problem is that NRC is a BOYS SCHOOL. It’s completely inappropriate to have a girl surrounded by all these boys... I’ll have you sent home immediately.”

The fairy flinched at the man’s words. Perhaps her small village didn’t know everything about NRC, but it was too late for her to turn back now. She had to figure out a way to convince him to let her stay. [Name] gracefully stepped aside, giving the boy access to the mirror.

“State thy name,” the mirror repeated.

“Yuuken?” he replied, sounding more like a question than an answer. I mean, he had just been tossed into a random magic school without even knowing magic existed. For all he knew, this could be some bizarre fever dream.

“…The nature of your soul IS…….. unclear to me,” the mirror declared, and for a brief moment, silence enveloped the room.

“What did you just say?” the headmaster interjected, breaking the stillness.

“I sense no magical power from this one. Soundless. Colorless. Shapeless. Utterly vacant. Therefore, no dorm would be suitable.”

Yuuken winced at the mirror’s bluntness. Ouch, talk about harsh.

“Are you suggesting that the black carriage came to pick up someone who can’t even use magic? That’s ridiculous! The student selection process has never made a mistake in a century! How could this happen?”

Grim struggled against his restraints. “Mmmph! Nnnrgggh... ME! Let ME take this student’s place!”

“Not so fast, you hyperactive weasel!”

“Unlike that human, I can actually use magic! Let me be a student here! Watch, I’ll show you! My spells are the cat’s meow!” Grim inhaled deeply and let out a massive burst of fire from his mouth.

“I’m starting to think he’s more dragon than cat,” someone quipped.

“Is this really the time for jokes?!” Yuuken shouted in panic as flames engulfed the mirror hall.

“Everyone, get down!” warned the red-haired boy.

The boy with red eyes and white hair flailed his arms like a maniac. “AHHHHH! HELP! I’m on fire over here!”

“Stop, drop, and roll!” *[Name]* laughed, nearly doubling over as she wheezed. Yuuken sweat-dropped, catching the girl in his arms as she struggled to breathe. How could she find this funny? Finally, she gathered herself and flicked her wrist toward the flaming boy, sprinkling some fairy dust on his burning robe, instantly extinguishing the flames. A proud jingle rang out as her wings fluttered. “Fairy dust fixes everything.”

“Someone catch that blasted animal before it sets the entire school on fire!” Crowley ordered.

“Can I leave now, or…?” the lion boy groaned.

“Oh? I thought you fancied yourself a hunter. Go and help yourself to that plump little morsel!” the blonde boy teased.

“Too much effort. You do it,” the beast man shot back.

“Allow me to handle this, Headmage Crowley. If none of you are capable of catching a little creature, I’ll take on the responsibility.” One dorm leader with glasses stepped up to the challenge.

“Check it out! See how strong I am?!” Grim cackled.

“How very bold of you to break the rules in my presence,” Riddle said sternly, glaring at Grim.

“Shall we make this quick, then, Riddle? I’m afraid we don’t have much time,” the boy with glasses smirked, gripping his magic pen.

“Must you take pleasure in playing with your prey, Azul?” Riddle sighed, pulling out his own magic pen.

“And here I thought we both enjoyed this sort of thing,” Azul feigned disappointment.

“Please, I’m not like you, so spare me your nonsense.”

Grim yelped, “Myah! It’s a dead end!”

“Poor thing. Did you run yourself straight into a corner?” Azul taunted, further trapping Grim.

“I suggest you give up. Otherwise…” the redhead threatened.

“NO! I’m getting into this school, and that’s FINAL!”

*[Name]* tilted her head, intrigued. She was enjoying this more than watching the Lost Boys squabble. A part of her felt sorry for the cat; he wanted to join the school just as much as she did.

“Stand aside, Azul!” Riddle commanded, pointing his magic pen at Grim, preparing to deliver the final blow.

“Off With Your Head!”

“What was that?” Yuuken asked, staring in awe at the collar around Grim’s neck.

“It’s a unique magic. A signature spell that only one mage can use. Its name is a bit gruesome, though…”

Yuuken nodded, understanding the girl’s explanation. “What’s your unique magic then?”

*[Name]* shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I only know the simple spells I’ve picked up from books. I’m more of an inventor than a mage.”

“The Queen of Heart's Rule 23: ‘One must never bring a cat to a formal affair.’ Your very presence here violates that order. You need to vacate these premises immediately,” Riddle quoted.

“Glad I’m not in his dorm,” *[Name]* muttered. She’d probably die trying to follow all those rules. She considered herself a free spirit, prone to unpredictable bursts of anger from time to time.

“Until I remove that collar, you won’t be able to use any magic. You’re nothing but a pet cat now,” Riddle taunted, a smug grin spreading across his face.

“M-meoWHAT?! I’m nobody’s pet—NOTHING!” Grim stepped back, raising his paws defensively.

“Oh, you have nothing to worry about there. I have no intention of keeping you as a pet. The collar will disappear once you leave campus.”

“Ha-HA! Good show as always, Riddle. Your signature spell nullifies any magic. It’s quite handy. I just HAVE to respect it—ah, I mean, I just have to have respect for it.”

*[Name]* shot Azul a side-eye. No point in trying to cover up what he just said; everyone heard it.

“*[Name]*! Was I not clear that you’re expected to take responsibility for your familiar? Now discipline your—What’s that? It isn’t yours?” Crowley chastised her.

“It’s not mine?! Why would you assume it’s mine?!” *[Name]*’s temper flared once more.

“Oh... Is that so?” Crowley said, sweat trickling down his face at her outburst. “Then I’ll have it expelled from campus. I’ll even spare it from being served for dinner. My, but I AM kind... Someone take this away, please.”

“Why doesn’t he just do it himself?” the fairy muttered under her breath.

“NOOOOO! Let me gooooo! You fools better remember my name! I’m going down in magic history! Just you wait!” Grim shouted, struggling against the students holding him. *[Name]* felt a twinge of sympathy for him. He must have a reason for wanting to stay here, just like she did.

“I wonder why he’s so desperate to be here?”

“Well, that was quite the unexpected spectacle. I hereby declare that orientation has concluded. Housewardens, please escort your students back to the dorms… Hm? Come to think of it, I don’t see Housewarden Draconia of House Diasomnia anywhere.”

“And that surprises you? The dude’s a total recluse.”

“Wait a sec... Did anyone even invite him?” the boy she saved from the fire asked.

“Ah. Just as I suspected. I thought I’d come down and see for myself if Malleus had shown up. But once again, he was evidently not informed that his presence was required at an official ceremony.” He shook his head in disappointment. Something told *[Name]* this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.

“You have my sincerest apologies. I assure you, this oversight was not intended as a slight,” Azul said, his tone insincere.

“I mean, you have to admit, he’s not exactly the easiest person to strike up a conversation with,” Riddle tried to justify.

“Never mind. All who were assigned to House Diasomnia, follow me. I just hope he doesn’t sulk about this.”

*[Name]* glanced at Yuuken from the corner of her eye, then tucked her wings behind her and pulled her hood up. She trailed behind the Diasomnia group, putting a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. Yuuken’s eyes widened in disbelief at her antics. Did she really think she wouldn’t get caught? Especially with her glowing presence and the trail of fairy dust she left behind? He quickly turned his gaze back to the headmage, who had his back to him, facing the mirror.

“Well, Yuuken, *[Name]*. This is quite an unfortunate turn of events. I’m afraid you won’t be attending Night Raven College after all. Surely you realize that I can’t very well admit a student with no magical ability and a girl to my academy. But don’t worry. The Dark Mirror will see you home safely. Now, step into the gate and visualize the place you came from.”

The headmage turned around, only to find Yuuken standing there.

“Where did *[Name]* disappear to?”

Yuuken looked down at his feet, remembering how the girl had signaled him to keep quiet about her whereabouts. She must have had her reasons. “I’m not sure... I just want to go home.”

Crowley sighed. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Come along now.”

He actually believed it?!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

*[Name]* kept her head down to avoid drawing attention. It was dark outside in the Diasomnia dorm, making it easier to blend in, thankfully the ceremonial robe dulled her glow a bit.

The vice housewarden helped the new students settle into the dorm. *[Name]* stopped in front of her dorm’s door, sighing in relief for making it past all the staff and students. She turned the doorknob slowly, peeking inside. It was a four-person room. She was about to—

“Shoot.” *[Name]* cursed her luck and was about to turn around when someone came barreling up from behind her.

“MOVE!”

She jumped in shock. Why was he so loud?!

She stepped aside, allowing the boy to access the door while flicking some dust on his foot, causing him to trip and tumble upside down. Was everyone here like this? An “excuse me” would’ve been nice. She simmered with annoyance at the situation. *[Name]* huffed and walked away from the door.

“Excuse me? Are you going into the dorm?”

[Name] let out a startled scream, jumping at the sound of the voice, her light green wings flaring up in defense. She looked up and nearly fell back at the sight of a boy with dark pink eyes floating above her, staring straight into her soul.

“Looks like you snuck in…” the boy teased.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

The boy began inspecting her wings. “Seems like you’re the girl from earlier… You do know this is an all-boys school, right?”

“You—”

“Lilia Vanrouge,” he introduced himself.

“Lilia… I really need to stay at this school,” [Name] broke character for once, desperation creeping into her voice. “I can’t go back home; I have nowhere…” Her eyes dropped as she fumbled with her fingers. Her wings twitched, lowering as if surrendering.

Lilia’s gaze softened slightly as he listened to her. “I won’t turn you in today, but if you want to stay, you should talk to Headmage Crowley.”

[Name] perked up at Lilia’s words. “Thank you! But where will I stay tonight?”

“Can you shrink?”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

[Name] nestled comfortably in an antique music box, tucked in with a small scrap of cloth. She watched as Lilia polished his weapon. In a way, it reminded her of the weapons Peter would describe in his stories.

“I wonder how he’s doing,” *[Name]* murmured in her native tongue.

“Who?” Lilia asked, curious.

“You can understand?!” Shock washed over her features.

He pointed to his ears, which resembled hers. They were pointed too!

“What kind of fae are you?”

“Nocturnal Fae. You must be a tinker fairy.”

[Name] zipped over to Lilia, circling around him. “Where are your wings?”

“Fu Fu Fu... Not all fae and fairies have wings,” he chuckled lightly.

“Oh…” [Name] yawned, pinching herself to stay awake. A comfortable silence settled between them, allowing [Name] to plop herself on the crown of Lilia’s head, drifting off to sleep.

#Twst wonderland #x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #Tinkerbell!Yuu✨#Twisted Wonderland #twst x reader #Fem!reader

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thought--bubble · 3 days ago

Text

Call me Nancy drew cuz I'm more than happy to figure out this mystery!🤣🤣

She relaxed considerably as she stared up into the face of Osferth. He quickly let go of her arm, stepping back as he saw her fearful reaction. “Forgive me, I did not mean to frighten you.”

Yeah, well, that's what happens when you just pop up behind people, lmao

He blinked slowly, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he stared fondly down at her. “Enough that I feel no shame for what I am about to ask, and not so much that I will regret it in the morning.”

The way I would melt right here.

“You didn’t though, did you?”

So someone's cocky 🤣

“You are beautiful,” he said sincerely, as his free hand reached up to brush a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

*Kicking my feet and screaming into a pillow*

“Do you feel like you understand now why those women fought over me?” Osferth asked playfully, “if not, I’d be more than happy to show you again.”

Nah. No clue gonna need like 5 more lessons. 🤷‍♀️

I loved this! I love how he's still shy Osferth but with that adorable hint of cockiness.

Something to Prove

Pairing: Osferth (The Last Kingdom) x f!reader Warnings: Smut. Word count: ~3k

Summary: Osferth is keen to sate curiosity when questions are raised as to why he has women fighting over him.

Author's note: Day eleven of Smuffmas - party and position changes. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She was exhausted, and hot. It was a chilly winter’s evening, and yet her skin felt clammy. The air in the tavern hung humid and heavy, the place more crowded than it had ever been. Loud cheers, laughter and the crash of wooden flagons being knocked together in joyous toasting filled the space, the cacophony of it all so loud that she could scarce hear the shouts for more ale that rang out in chorus each time a group had drained their mugs.

Her tired feet carried her ceaselessly from behind the bar and back again each time she emptied her jug and needed to refill it from the cask. The flagstone floor was sticky underfoot, and she had to be careful not to add to the mess by spilling what she carried, as the shoulders of revellers jostled her while she worked her way through the crowd, refilling and topping off the drinks of those that held their cups out to her. She did not mind though, they had every reason to celebrate; Wintanceaster had achieved victory that day against the Danes. With the aid of Uhtred and his men, the city had been defended from invading forces. The battle had been fierce, yet those that had taken up arms against the Danes had fought bravely, cutting down the opposition and causing what little remained to retreat. Wintanceaster was safe once more.

Everyone present was eager to toast to Uhtred, to thank him for his help, and congratulate him for how valiantly he fought, yet it was another person entirely who captured her attention. Osferth, a warrior monk who had pledged his loyalty to Uhtred, fighting alongside him and his men – ordinarily, he wasn’t a man she would have looked twice at, yet tonight she could not keep her eyes off of him. Two days previous, she had witnessed two women fighting viciously over him, to the point that his lord had had to step in to separate them. She could understand such jealousy being expressed over Uhtred, Finan or Sihtric; they were surly, confident, everything one would expect when envisioning bravery and heroism. Osferth, though he stood at least a head taller than the three men he travelled with, was wiry, his demeanour timid and apologetic.

She was desperately curious about him and, without even being conscious of it, her eyes sought him out each time she made a pass of the room. He was lost in merriment, laughing and joking with Finan, slopping ale onto the floor each time he raised his drink. Perhaps she would never know precisely why he inspired such feelings of jealousy from other women, at least not from simply looking at him anyway.

“I need some air, will you be alright for a moment?” she asked the other barmaid, shouting to be heard over the noise, as she placed her empty jug back upon the bar.

The older woman nodded. “Go on, can’t have you fainting on me. Don’t be long though, they’re a rowdy bunch tonight.”

The bite of the crisp night air made her skin prickle as she pushed outside, rapidly cooling her sweat-dampened skin and making her shiver. It was refreshing. She leaned back against the rough stone wall of the tavern, the noise inside muffled to a dull hum as the wooden door thumped heavily closed behind her. She huffed a sigh, her breath puffing out into a white cloud against the inky black night sky.

A burst of the din from the tavern startled her as the door swung open again, quieting as quickly as it had come as the person who had stepped out gently pushed it closed. She looked over, her lips parting in shock as she saw Osferth, moving to lean his back against the wall on the other side of the door, next to her. She masked her surprise, offering him a tight lipped, polite smile in greeting, before looking away again.

“Are you alright, lady?” he asked her softly, a hint of concern in his voice.

“Mmm,” she affirmed quietly, smoothing her hands over the white apron that was tied around the waist of her linen dress. She kept her eyes fixed upon the ground, “it is warm inside. I just needed a moment to breathe.”

“Me too,” he replied, “I don’t think I have ever drank so much ale…may I…ask you something?”

She lifted her eyes to meet his, not moving her head as she cast him a playful sideways look and a smirk. “You already have.”

Osferth grinned, bowing his head as his eyes crinkled in amusement, and she lifted her face fully to watch him. “Yes, I suppose I have. But–” he turned fully to face her as he tucked his hands inside of the brown leather breastplate that he wore over his robes, “I have noticed you staring at me tonight, lady. May I ask why?”

Turning to face him too, she leaned her shoulder against the wall, her fingers fidgeting nervously with her apron. She didn’t want to tell him the real reason why, it was gossipy and impolite. “You fought bravely today, surely that is deserving of admiration?”

She watched his cheeks flush pink in the pale moonlight, as he looked through the window of the tavern, the soft glow of the lamplight inside illuminating the sharpness of his profile. He was quite beautiful to look at, she decided, as she studied the sharpness of his profile; an aquiline nose, strong jaw and high cheekbones.

He offered her a shy smile as he looked back at her. “It is my lord, Uhtred, who is deserving of your praise. Most do not even know my name.”

“You are Osferth, are you not?”

His eyebrows raised slightly as his lips parted in surprise. “I am,” he answered, pulling his hands free of his breast plate to fold them over his chest as he studied her face. “Might I know your name, lady, and the real reason for your interest in me?”

Her skin grew warm with embarrassment, despite the frost that had begun to settle upon the ground. She told him her name, hesitating before revealing the real reason for why she had been looking at him throughout the evening. “I saw those women fighting over you the other day, and I was curious about it. Forgive me, it is not my place to wonder. I should get back inside, I have been gone too long.”

Without another word or a glance back, she pulled the door open, enveloped in heat once more as she weaved her way back to the bar. She concentrated on keeping the ale flowing for the rest of the night, doing her best to keep both her mind and her eyes off of Osferth.

By the time the tavern closed for the evening, her body was practically crying out for the comfort of her bed and, thankfully, she did not have far to go. Her job included lodging – a small room located above the tavern, accessible from the outside of the building by stairs located at the back.

As she rounded the corner of the building, headed for the back of it, she gasped as she felt a hand grasp the top of her arm, accompanied by a soft whisper of her name. Heart hammering wildly and eyes wide with fright, she rounded on her assailant, preparing to defend herself against the worst.

She relaxed considerably as she stared up into the face of Osferth. He quickly let go of her arm, stepping back as he saw her fearful reaction. “Forgive me, I did not mean to frighten you.”

His eyes were unfocused, his posture suggestive of a state of drunkenness that he had not been affected by when she had spoken to him earlier; he swayed slightly upon his feet, his posture not as rigid as it had been before. She worried that his group had left him in such a vulnerable state, and wondered if perhaps he had sought her out for help.

“How much ale have you had, Osferth?” she asked softly, gently grasping the leather cuffs that encased his forearms, holding him steady.

She furrowed her brow in confusion, tilting her head slightly. “What do you mean?”

He turned his arms in hers, his own fingers gripping her forearms in return. She could feel how cold his fingers were through the sleeves of her dress. “Your question earlier…I should like to sate your curiosity.”

Her skin grew heated with embarrassment at his brazen suggestion, yet the chill of his skin worried her more. “Come, let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”

Osferth trailed after her up the rickety wooden stairs to the room she occupied above the tavern, hovering quietly behind her as her fingers, numb with cold, struggled with the key in the lock. It wasn’t much better once inside, but it was a roof over their heads at least – a roof much closer to Osferth’s head than hers, in fact. She had to stifle a laugh behind her hand, once she had gotten the lamp lit – Osferth stooped within the small place – she had never taken the time to consider his height before, but seeing him dwarf the space around him really emphasised just how tall he was.

She cast her eyes around the modest room, as though seeing it for the first time – the small double bed that was pushed up against the far wall, and the tiny window above it, the chest that sat at the foot ot it, and the rickety table and chair tucked away in the corner, with a cracked and dusty mirror that rested precariously upon the tabletop, alongside the wooden tub that she used for washing.

Looking back at Osferth, her tone was apologetic. “It’s not much, I don’t even have a fireplace, but it’s better than being stuck outside. It was wrong of Uhtred to just leave you like that.”

“I asked him to,” he admitted, as his gaze moved around the room, lingering on each item until he looked upon the bed. “May I?” he gestured towards it, “I’m going to end up bumping my head otherwise.”

She allowed herself to laugh then, and he laughed with her, the drunken haze of his blue eyes shining in the soft lamplight. She simply nodded, gesturing for him to sit on the edge of the bed, before joining him.

“Why did you want Uhtred to leave you?” she asked after a moment, acutely aware of how his thigh pressed against hers as they sat side by side.

“I told you before,” he said, turning slightly so that his body faced her, though he looked at her through his lashes, as his head was bowed, “I wanted to show you why those women fought over me.”

She scoffed in amusement, shaking her head. “That is highly presumptuous of you. What if I had said no?”

“You didn’t though, did you?” he asked, reaching out and gently taking her hand. The contact made her pulse race, but she didn’t pull away.

“It would have been unkind to leave you out in the cold…”

“You could have given me a blanket and allowed me to sleep it off in the tavern,” he reasoned, as his thumb stroked gentle circles against the back of her head, “but you invited me up here. And I think we both know why that is.”

“I just–”

Osferth shook his head as he lifted it, his eyes imploring as they stared into hers. “I was a novice. I know what it is to deny yourself what you desire. I saw that same look in your eyes tonight every time you looked at me. I no longer deny myself, and I don’t think you ought to either.”

Her breath hitched at his words, the weight they carried stirring a nervous fluttering within her. She hadn’t realised it until now, but her grip on his hand was now vicelike. “You’re drunk,” she whispered.

“You are beautiful,” he said sincerely, as his free hand reached up to brush a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

The moment that his lips were upon hers, something inside of her snapped, all restraint and sense of proprietary leaving her. She let go of his hand, both of hers coming to ball into the fabric of his robes not covered by his breastplate as she pulled him close. His nimble fingers tangled into her hair, causing her to moan, allowing his tongue to lick against hers as their kisses grew more urgent, the sticky sound of their saliva and panted breaths filling the small space.

She helped him to disrobe, unbuckling his cuffs and giggling as the straps of his leather armor tugged at his hair as she helped him to pull it over his head. Once both fully undressed, she was scared to look upon his naked form, afraid to let him see her, in case she lost her nerve. Before she had the chance to change her mind, she crawled on all fours onto the bed, presenting herself to him. It was how every other man she had allowed to hump her had taken her, so she didn’t see why Osferth would be any different.

He surprised her when he didn’t immediately grasp her hips and force himself inside of her. His fingertips trailed the length of her spine, making her shiver. She felt the mattress dip as he knelt upon it, leaning over her, his chest against her back as he nuzzled into her neck. No one had ever treated her with such tenderness before, especially not while intoxicated. She turned her face towards his, her heart almost skipping a beat as she saw the soft reverence in his eyes. He pressed a tender kiss to the corner of her mouth as his fingers dipped between her thighs.

His touch was gentle, exploratory. He stroked her in a way that made her ache and throb, gathering arousal from her opening before circling her bud with it. It felt nice to be prepared in this way, no one had ever taken such care with her before. Only when she bucked and mewled under his ministrations, the ache between her legs growing almost intolerable, did he notch the head of his cock against her and press forward. The stretch was slow, but pleasant, the fullness of him inside of her made her push her hips back against him, impatient to feel more of him.

She heard him exhale shakily, before giving her hips a playful squeeze and beginning to thrust into her. It wasn’t hard and fast, as she was used to, he took his time with each pull back and forward motion, as if he was getting to know her body, learning what movements made her whimper and sigh softly in pleasure. When he pulled out altogether, she whined in protest at the loss of him, looking back over her shoulder at him in annoyance. Osferth chuckled softly, before coaxing her onto her back.

“What are you doing?” she asked, feeling prone and exposed in this position. Her eyes raked over him, he was thin, but corded with lithe muscle and small faint scars that covered his torso. His cock stood proud between his legs, flushed at the tip and shiny with her wetness.

He stared at her with similar appreciation as he grasped the base of himself. “I do not wish to rut you like an animal,” he told her. He pushed her thighs apart, leaned down and dragged the flat of his tongue against her dripping sex, making her cry out in surprise. Osferth grinned as his face reappeared from between her thighs, grasping her calves and placing them over his shoulders, before plunging back inside of her.

The angle knocked at a spot inside of her that made her throw her head back, screwing her eyes shut, her legs shaking as his hips started to move again. She clutched the bedsheets to ground herself, her knuckles blanching with the force of her grip.

“There you go,” Osferth whispered breathlessly, holding her legs firmly against his body as he rocked his pelvis, “this is how you should look – worshipped and carefree.”

She dared to open her eyes, lifting her head to look upon the place where their bodies joined. She watched in rapt fascination as he disappeared inside of her, drawing back each time to reveal his glistening shaft and the light thatch of curls that sat at the base of it.

His eyes were hooded as he watched her and he let go of her thighs, allowing her legs to rest of their own accord against his shoulders as one hand moved to tweak one of her nipples into a stiffened peak, while the other snaked between their bodies and began circling her sensitive pearl with his thumb.

“It is too much,” she protested weakly, writhing beneath him, the dual assault on her senses making her feel as though she would lose all control.

“Nothing is too much for you,” Osferth reassured her. The hand upon her breast moved back to her thigh as he turned his head to kiss the inside of her knee. “Almost there, I can feel it.”

She could feel it too. The insistent bullying of his cockhead against her sensitive walls, coupled with the relentless rubbing of his thumb against her swollen bundle of nerves were rapidly tightening the coil in her lower belly. She felt his erection begin to pulse, and the sensation pushed her over the edge. He pulled out as she cried out in ecstasy began to spasm, groaning as he painted her lower belly with pearly ropes of his spend. Their bodies shuddered together, utterly lost in the throes of their shared peak until, finally, Osferth collapsed beside her, panting heavily.

He gathered her against his chest, holding her close, not caring that her skin was sticky with his release, and she couldn’t help the contented smile that spread across her face.

“It has never been like that for me with anyone before,” she confessed quietly.

“Do you feel like you understand now why those women fought over me?” Osferth asked playfully, “if not, I’d be more than happy to show you again.”

She giggled, lightly swatting his chest. “You have certainly proven yourself, though I would never say no to another demonstration.”

Read on AO3

More Osferth fics

#osferth fanfic #fic recs #affectionate Ange

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croworro · 1 day ago

Note

Can you write a short schlatt fic in which the fem!reader confesses her feelings to him on stream or on the SDP -- but totally on accident? And of course he returns her feelings (either on off camera. You choose) Thanks boo!

Accidental Confessions

Pairing: Jschlatt x fem!reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: none really

Summary: During a chaotic Phasmophobia stream, Schlatt’s relentless flirting leaves you flustered and questioning what’s real.

A/N: hope this is everything you were hoping for!! I’m actually so happy with how this turned out hehe

Your streaming sessions with Jschlatt had become a highlight of your week, and apparently, a highlight for thousands of viewers. What started as a one-off collaboration turned into a weekly tradition that fans clamored for. Schlatt’s relentless teasing, sharp wit, and surprisingly endearing moments always made for entertaining streams.

Tonight’s game was Phasmophobia, you reluctantly agreed to play after weeks of Schlatt goading you on Twitter.

“You ready to cry on stream?” Schlatt’s voice came through your headset as you joined the Discord call.

“More like ready to carry you,” you shot back, smirking as you adjusted your mic.

“Carry me?” Schlatt barked out a laugh. “Sweetheart, you couldn’t carry a flashlight without tripping over yourself.”

“Bold words from someone who hides in the van at the first sign of danger,” you retorted, rolling your eyes.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see that chat was already in chaos:

[Chat]:

• “Here we go again with the bickering couple.”

• “Schlatt’s flirting is so painfully obvious, omg.”

• “They’re gonna kill each other before the ghost does.”

The game loaded, and Schlatt’s teasing began almost immediately.

“Alright, chat,” he said, his tone smug. “Place your bets: How long before Y/N panics and accidentally gets me killed?”

“First of all, I don’t panic,” you said, grabbing the ghost detector. “Second, if you die, it’s probably because you’re too busy flirting with the chat to pay attention.”

“Oh, sweetheart, if I was flirting, you’d know it,” Schlatt said, his voice dropping into a playful drawl that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine.

Your face heated, but you forced a laugh. “Good thing I don’t have to worry about that, then.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” he replied, his smirk practically audible.

You busied yourself with the game, trying to ignore the way his voice lingered in your mind. The two of you explored the haunted house, with Schlatt cracking jokes and occasionally pretending to be scared just to make you jump.

“Y/N, the ghost’s name is Lisa. Think you can charm her into leaving us alone?” Schlatt asked as you stepped into the darkened kitchen.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the one who keeps telling me I’m bad with women,” he said, grinning. “Let’s see you do better.”

“Fine,” you said, playing along. “Lisa, you’re a beautiful, independent ghost who doesn’t need to haunt this house anymore. Go find some peace, girl.”

Schlatt laughed so hard he almost dropped his flashlight. “Unbelievable. Chat, clip that. I need to save it for when Y/N tries to say she’s the serious one here.”

[Chat]:

• “I CAN’T WITH THESE TWO.”

• “Lisa’s shaking right now.”

• “Schlatt’s laugh gives me life.”

The game progressed, with Schlatt alternating between teasing you and pretending to be scared. When the ghost appeared out of nowhere, he let out a yell and ran, leaving you alone in the dark.

“Schlatt, you coward!” you screamed, clicking you keyboard keys frantically and fumbling for a hiding spot.

“Every man for himself!” he shouted from the safety of the van.

When the ghost finally disappeared, you stormed out of the house and into the van, glaring at Schlatt’s character.

“You are the worst teammate,” you said.

“And yet, you keep coming back,” he replied, his grin evident in his tone.

You groaned, but you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it, sweetheart,” he added, his voice softer now.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you ignored it, focusing back on the game.

By the time the ghost finally killed Schlatt, you were too frustrated to even pretend to feel bad.

“Maybe if you didn’t spend half the game messing around, you wouldn’t keep dying,” you said, your voice sharper than intended.

“Aw, is that your way of saying you care about me?” Schlatt asked, his tone teasing but his words making your stomach flip.

“Of course I care about you, but I care more about winning,” you said quickly, not even thinking about what you had said.

“What was that?” he asked, his tone shifting slightly. Your eyes widened quickly when you realized what you had said.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, feeling heat creep up your neck.

“Nah, nah, you said something,” he pressed. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, sweetheart.”

The chat went wild:

[Chat]:

• “WAIT WHAT DID SHE SAY???”

• “CONFESS CONFESS CONFESS.”

• “Schlatt, stop bullying her, omg.”

You groaned, ending the game and pulling up your stream controls. “Alright, chat, that’s it for tonight. Goodnight, everyone.”

The protests from viewers were immediate, but you ignored them, ending the stream and ripping off your headset. Your phone buzzed almost immediately.

Schlatt: Call me.

You stared at the message, debating whether to respond. Finally, you sighed and hit the call button.

“Bit of an abrupt ending, don’t you think?” Schlatt said as soon as he picked up, his tone light but probing.

“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” you replied, crossing your arms.

“Alright, fair,” he admitted. “But seriously, what’s was that about?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding. Schlatt’s teasing was usually easy to brush off, but tonight felt different—more personal.

“It’s just… I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like you’re not joking, and I don’t know how to handle that.”

“What if I’m not joking?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

Your breath caught, your pulse racing. “Don’t mess with me, Schlatt.”

“I’m not,” he said firmly. “Y/N, I’m not joking. I flirt with you because I like you. Hell, everyone in chat sees it. I thought you did too.”

You swallowed hard, trying to process his words. “I didn’t want to assume,” you admitted.

“Well, you don’t have to,” he said, his tone softening. “I like you, sweetheart. I have for a while.”

A nervous laugh escaped you. “You sure know how to make a confession dramatic.”

“It’s what I do,” he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “So… what do you say?”

“I think we should play another game,” you said, a smile spreading across your face.

“Another game?” he repeated, sounding surprised.

“Yeah,” you said. “But this time, you’re not leaving me to die.”

Schlatt laughed, his usual confidence returning. “Deal. But if you keep calling me a coward, I might have to change my mind about liking you.”

“Too late,” you teased. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Good,” he said, his voice warm. “That’s exactly where I want to be.”

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt is hot #jschlatt x reader smut #jschlatt #jschlatt smut #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt x you

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hazzashouse · 19 hours ago

Text

Through the Darkness (Harry Styles one shot)

This topic is incredibly important to me. If you or someone you know is struggling with depression, please know you don’t have to go through it alone. Reach out to someone you trust—a friend, a family member, or a professional. You are not alone, and you are loved. There is strength in asking for support, and there are people who want to be there for you. You are never alone.

Pairing: Harry Styles x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Triggers: Depression, anxiety, emotional distress, mentions of isolation, self-doubt, and heavy themes of mental health struggles. Please read with care.

The world outside your apartment window was cold and colorless, mirroring the ache in your chest. Days blurred into nights, the sun rising and setting without your notice. It had been weeks since you last stepped outside for more than a grocery run. Even then, the strain of smiling at the cashier left you drained for days.

The depression you thought you’d left behind had returned, a familiar weight pressing against your chest, heavy and relentless. It was worse this time because it felt like failure. You’d been doing so well—hadn’t you? Harry had told you how proud he was. Your friends had said you seemed lighter. And now, here you were again, feeling like a burden to everyone you loved.

Harry was away on tour, as he always was this time of year. The texts and calls were there, of course. But you hadn’t told him. You couldn’t. His life was busy, full of flashing lights and cheering crowds, and you couldn’t bear to drag him into the shadows with you. He didn’t need that—not when he was living his dream.

So you suffered in silence, telling yourself you’d find your way out. Except, you didn’t.

Your best friend, Emily, was the first to notice. She’d stopped by unexpectedly, armed with a smile and coffee. You hadn’t answered her texts for days, and she’d decided to check in. When you opened the door, she froze, her face dropping.

“Hey…” she said softly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “What’s going on, babe?”

You didn’t have the energy to lie.

Emily took one look at the unwashed dishes, the unopened curtains, and the dark circles under your eyes and immediately understood. She’d seen this before.

“Oh, love,” she murmured, pulling you into a hug. The warmth of her arms broke something inside you, and the tears you’d been holding back spilled over.

Emily didn’t leave that night. She made you tea, coaxed you into eating something, and stayed until you fell asleep. The next morning, she tried to talk to you about reaching out to Harry.

“He’ll want to know,” she said gently. “He loves you. You know he’d drop everything.”

But you shook your head. “I don’t want to ruin his tour. He’s happy.”

Emily sighed but didn’t push. Instead, when you weren’t looking, she sent Harry a message herself:

Hey, I know you’re busy, but she’s struggling again. She didn’t want me to tell you, but I think you should know. Call me when you can.

Harry didn’t see the text until hours later. His phone had been in the dressing room while he performed to a sold-out crowd. When the show ended and he finally unlocked it, Emily’s message was waiting.

He read it twice before his heart sank.

————————

Harry’s decision to leave wasn’t even a question. His team tried to reason with him, suggesting he finish the next two shows before taking a break, but he shook his head.

“No,” he said firmly. “She needs me. She’s more important than any of this.”

————————

The sound of a key in the lock woke you from a restless sleep. You sat up, your heart pounding as the door creaked open. When Harry’s familiar figure appeared, relief and guilt warred inside you.

“Harry?” Your voice cracked.

He didn’t say anything at first, just crossed the room in a few strides and pulled you into his arms. His chest rose and fell against yours, and you realized he was trembling.

“I’m here, love,” he whispered into your hair. “I’m here.”

You didn’t mean to cry, but his presence—his warmth, his steady heartbeat—was the comfort you hadn’t known you needed.

Harry didn’t try to fix you. He knew better than that. Instead, he stayed close, quietly reminding you of his love in the small ways that mattered most.

He opened the curtains one morning and sat with you on the couch, not saying a word as you watched the sunlight pour in.

He ran a bath for you, adding your favorite lavender oil, and sat outside the door in case you needed him.

He cooked meals you didn’t have the energy to eat but never made you feel guilty for it.

On the hardest days, when leaving the bed felt impossible, he stayed with you, holding your hand as if anchoring you to the world.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he told you one night, his voice steady. “Whatever you need, whenever you need it—I’m here.”

Slowly, the darkness began to lift. Harry’s patience, his unwavering support, created space for you to breathe again. He reminded you of the things you loved—the music you used to listen to, the books you hadn’t touched in months, the way your laughter used to fill the room.

It wasn’t easy, and there were setbacks. But with Harry by your side, you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, you’d be okay.

One afternoon, as you sat together on the couch, you looked at him and whispered, “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, his green eyes soft.

“For loving me. For staying.”

Harry smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Always.”

And in that moment, you knew it was true.

————————

like and reblog if you liked it and follow me to not miss my future content - I will very much appreciate it! Lots of love, A.

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dragonotaku-justineverything · 2 days ago

Note

What are Team RWBY + P's reactions when Jaune has a nightmare or if he's sick

This is from 2019 everyone! I have some sickeningly old asks that I’ve never got around to writing… This is seriously so old that it still uses the old format to edit asks! I hope to fix the amount of asks I’ve let slip by me (for the past 5-6 years) a bit this year! I just need to keep the asks contained and not get carried away.

By the way, I never knew if the “+ P” meant Pyrrha or Penny so I’m finally just doing both, but these will be for them individually being shipped with Jaune, not a harem type situation.

Ruby Rose

Nightmare - Would softly crawl into bed next to him and hold his hand, not trying to startle him and just being there to comfort him if and when he wakes up

Sick - Gets him warm whole milk, their favorite video games to play together, and inspirational cat posters to cheer him up

Weiss Schnee

Nightmare - Will softly hum and softly sing for him and try to ease his fright/turmoil while he sleeps, while holding his hand or playing with his hair

Sick - Gets him the proper medicine he needs, and lots of it

Blake Belladonna

Nightmare - She doesn’t really know what to do while he’s asleep, so she just gently tries to wake him up and then help him calm down afterwards to get back to peaceful sleep that way.

Sick - She knows how to make some good herbal teas to help his symptoms and keeps him supplied with them and other medicine he might need. Also she’s happy to read to him if he isn’t feeling well enough to do anything and is bored

Yang Xiao Long

Nightmare - Will just pull him into a cuddle hug and hold him tightly. If he wakes up from it, they can talk, but if not then she’ll just lay there, holding him and whispering comforting things to him. She’ll ask about it whenever he does wake up either way

Sick - Gets him warm whole milk, their favorite video games to play together, and turns up her jokes to eleven to try and cheer him up

Penny Polendina

Nightmare - She knows the signs of when to wake someone up or just to comfort them while they keep sleeping, so she always picks the right one to do for Jaune if he starts having a bad dream or a nightmare.

Sick - She will have his sickness analyzed and named in 20 minutes or less and gets him the medicine he needs along with properly measured out dosages

Pyrrha Nikos

Nightmare - She’ll wake him up because she gets scared for him, then runs her hand through his hair while holding him and letting him talk about the dream if he wants to, or just to whisper assurances to help them both calm back down

Sick - She does her absolute best to keep him comfortable and grabs whatever he needs or asks for, but she does need to be told not to kiss him several times by Jaune and others while he is sick.

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jhyoos · 15 hours ago

Text

REBEL GIRL

Chapter 4: Ugh! As If!

rockstar!sevika x influencer!reader

summary: reader has to suffer the consequences of her actions.

mentions: modern au, fame au, drama, swearing, mommy caitlyn, groping, kissing, neck biting and kissing, drunk truth or dare.

notes : drafts somehow deleted…and I didn’t back it up so im writing off of hopes and dreams. love yall 🫵❤️🎸

chapters : one, two, three, four

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room as you made your way to the bathroom for a much-needed shower. The hot water cascaded down your body, soothing the lingering tension from the previous night’s chaos. You hummed softly to yourself, allowing the steam and the scent of your vanilla body wash to envelop you.

As you rinsed off, faint noises from the room outside caught your attention. You figured it was Caitlyn moving around, likely getting ready for her own day. Brushing it off, you continued to enjoy the quiet moment of solitude.

After about half an hour, you stepped out of the bathroom feeling refreshed, your skin soft and glistening from the lotion you’d applied. A fluffy towel was wrapped securely around you as you walked back into the room, ready to pick out an outfit for the day.

Your peace was short-lived when you noticed someone sitting on your side of the bed. It wasn’t Caitlyn.

“Oh…it’s you,” you said flatly, your tone dripping with irritation as you recognized Sevika lounging on the mattress like she owned it.

She smirked, leaning back slightly, her arms crossed as she watched you. “Good morning to you, too.”

Ignoring her, you made your way to the closet, pulling out your luggage to sift through your clothes. You crouched carefully, mindful of the towel wrapped around you. You knew Sevika was probably watching, and you weren’t about to give her any kind of show.

When you finally found something to wear, you stood up and placed the outfit on the bed. Turning, you noticed Sevika’s eyes still fixed on you, her gaze unrelenting.

“What the fuck do you want?” you snapped, annoyance clear in your voice.

Sevika let out a dramatic sigh, shifting to make herself more comfortable on your side of the bed. “An apology,” she said simply, her tone laced with mock seriousness. “My phone’s been blowing up all morning because of you. Maybe a little…gesture of goodwill would help. Head sounds like a great place to start.”

You glared at her, utterly unamused. “Ugh, as if!” you shot back. “And honestly, you should be happy you’re getting so much recognition. Free publicity.”

Sevika raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed. “Fine. How about this? I’ll buy you food as an apology, and I’ll take care of debunking everything. Happy now?”

She regarded you with a skeptical expression, her eyebrow arching even higher. “Food? It better be something expensive. I’m sure a girl with a four-million-dollar net worth can figure that out.”

You froze, staring at her in disbelief. “Oh my gosh! You stalker…what the fuck? You’ve been looking me up?”

Sevika smirked, standing and stretching as she made her way toward the door. “Yeah. And your dating history, too. You’ve got pretty good taste. Might text one of them later.”

Your jaw dropped. “You—!”

Before you could finish, she opened the door and stepped out, narrowly dodging the pillow you hurled at her.

Her laughter echoed in the hallway as you stood there fuming, shaking your head. “Unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath, already regretting offering to buy her anything.

But as much as she got under your skin, you couldn’t ignore the faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Something about Sevika’s audacity was maddeningly entertaining, even if you’d never admit it.

After pulling on your outfit and styling your hair into something effortlessly simple, you grabbed your phone and sat down on the edge of the bed. The articles and posts about you and Sevika were still fresh in your mind, and you knew your manager was probably seconds away from blowing a gasket if you didn’t address the rumors.

You needed a tweet that was professional enough to appease your manager but also blunt enough to shut everyone else up. It took you a moment to think before your fingers began typing.

“Me and Sevika are just friends. If I’m in a relationship, I would’ve already confirmed it by now. Get off my dick and leave my friends alone.”

You reread it once, nodded in approval, and hit “Post.” Within seconds, the tweet was blowing up. Likes, retweets, and comments flooded in, most of them praising your straightforwardness.

(y/n)smaingf: This is why I love her LMAO

viseye: Ugh…I was in the middle of fanart about y’all

sevileftnut: Ya know what…Hell yeah!

You decided not to scroll too much further—no point in diving into the cesspool of opinions. Tossing your phone onto the bed, you grabbed your bag and headed for the door, ready to start the day.

When you got downstairs, the group was already waiting for you in the lobby. Caitlyn leaned against a pillar, her arms crossed, while the others stood or sat around, all wearing smug expressions that immediately annoyed you.

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Vi smirked. “We saw the tweet.”

“And?” you asked, exasperated.

“You’re treating us to free food, obviously,” Sevika chimed in, crossing her arms as she leaned casually against the wall. Her smirk was just as infuriating as the rest of them.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. Free food for everyone. Happy now?”

A cheer went up from the group as you pinched the bridge of your nose, already regretting your generosity. “Can someone at least order the Uber, please?”

Jinx raised a hand. “I guess I’ll do it.” She pulled out her phone and started tapping away.

Caitlyn nudged your shoulder. “You’ve got a way with words,” she said with a small smile.

You shrugged. “Someone had to say it.”

As you waited for the Uber, you dug into your bag and pulled out your mini vlog camera, the familiar weight of it a comforting tool for killing time. “While we wait, let’s make some content, please?” you said, flashing a quick smile as you powered it on. The red recording light blinked on as you turned the lens toward the group, framing yourself and everyone else in the background.

Fixing your hair in the little camera screen, you caught Sevika rolling her eyes in the reflection. “Aye, I can see you, Sev,” you said, turning your head to glare at her playfully.

Sevika leaned back against the wall with her arms crossed, her expression unimpressed. “Hurry up already, princess. The Uber’s gonna be here any minute.”

You ignored her impatient tone with a dramatic sigh, pressing the record button. “Hey, you guys!” you said in your most cheerful voice, pointing the camera at yourself. “Guess what? We’re heading to Five Guys, and I’m paying. This is my charity for the day—I’m feeding starving artists.” You smiled mischievously at the camera before panning it to the band behind you.

The group groaned collectively at your teasing. Jinx leaned into the shot with a smirk. “You do know it’s 1 v 4, right? You’re outnumbered.”

Without missing a beat, you fired back, “Oh, please. I can take you all at once.”

The air froze for a second before Vi raised an eyebrow and burst out laughing. “Woah, that sounded wrong.”

“Oh my god, you freak!” you shouted, clutching your chest dramatically as if offended. The others joined in with their laughter, the sound of it filling the parking lot and making the moment feel more alive.

“Cut the camera, Y/N,” Caitlyn teased, nudging you gently. “Before this vlog turns into a comedy special.”

You shrugged. “Hey, this is pure gold. The fans will love it.”

Sevika, still leaning against the wall, muttered, “Yeah, great. Let them see you lose your mind before dinner.”

“Sev, the only thing I’m losing is patience with your attitude,” you quipped, spinning the camera toward her. She glared at you half-heartedly, but you caught the faintest twitch of amusement in her lips.

Just as you were about to retort, the Uber pulled up to the curb. “Saved by the ride,” Vi joked, pointing to the black SUV.

You turned off the camera, tucking it back into your bag. “Alright, let’s go, starving artists. The food awaits.”

Sevika brushed past you as the group piled into the car, her hand grazing your lower back in a way that felt both accidental and deliberate. “After you, princess,” she said, her voice dripping with mock politeness.

You rolled your eyes, climbing into the back seat. “One of these days, Sev, you’re gonna wish you were nicer to me.”

“Doubt it,” she shot back, settling into her seat. The banter continued as the car pulled into traffic, and you couldn’t help but smirk, already anticipating how the night would unfold.

The ride back from Five Guys was anything but quiet. The car was filled with laughter, teasing, and the occasional groan of someone who had eaten too much. Vi leaned back in her seat, hands on her stomach, a satisfied grin on her face. “Alright,” she announced, “I think I’ve had enough carbs to fuel me for the entire night. I’m officially ready to party.”

Jinx, sitting beside her, raised her hand like she was in class. “I second that! We’re hitting the club tonight, and I’m not holding back.” She leaned forward, grinning at everyone else.

You, however, were still half-reclined in your seat, your head resting against the window as you groaned. “Y’all really have that much energy after all that food? I need at least two naps before even considering going out again.”

As the car pulled up to the hotel, Caitlyn suddenly turned to you, her voice firm. “Not so fast, (Y/N). You’re not going anywhere tonight.” You froze, blinking at her in confusion.

“What? Why?”

Caitlyn crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. “Because last night was a disaster waiting to happen, and I’m not about to have you causing chaos again.”

The group laughed, but Caitlyn’s expression remained serious, leaving you groaning in protest as everyone else headed up to get ready.

Minutes later, you found yourself sprawled across the bed in your shared room, flipping through channels with one hand and scrolling your phone with the other. The TV droned on about some crime show you weren’t really paying attention to, but it was better than sitting in silence. You huffed in frustration, tossing your phone aside, just as the door creaked open.

“I thought I was locked in,” you said dryly, not bothering to glance up. You assumed it was Caitlyn coming to check on you.

“Guess I’ve got the key,” came a familiar, low drawl.

Your head snapped up to see Sevika leaning casually against the doorframe, her arms crossed, a small smirk tugging at her lips. She was dressed down compared to her usual style, wearing a loose black shirt and jeans. The relaxed look somehow made her even more infuriating.

“What do you want?” you muttered, sulking deeper into the bed.

She shrugged and strolled in, letting the door click shut behind her. “I’m putting myself in time-out too,” she said nonchalantly. “No one’s allowed to have fun without me.” She plopped into the chair near the bed, slouching back as if she owned the place.

You stared at her for a moment, debating whether you wanted company. But as the TV continued to drone on, you sighed, realizing it beat being bored alone. “Fine. If you’re staying, we’re making this interesting.”

Her eyebrow quirked as she watched you sit up, reaching for your suitcase. From its depths, you pulled out a bottle of whiskey, your secret stash for nights like these. You placed it on the nightstand with a sense of finality, grabbing two glasses.

Sevika’s smirk deepened as she leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Drinking truth or dare?” she asked, her voice tinged with amusement.

“Exactly,” you said, pouring the amber liquid into both glasses before sliding one her way. “Unless you’re scared to play.”

“Scared?” She scoffed, picking up her glass. “You don’t know me at all, princess.”

The game began innocently enough. Sevika dared you to do a horrible celebrity impression, which resulted in a laugh so loud it made her throw her head back. In retaliation, you dared her to sing a verse from a Taylor Swift, and the sound of her gruff voice struggling through the high notes of Lover left you in tears from laughter.

“Alright, truth,” she said after finishing her whiskey, her cheeks faintly flushed.

You grinned mischievously. “What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done on stage?”

Sevika groaned, her hand rubbing the back of her neck. “I ripped my pants. Front and back. In front of a packed crowd.”

You burst into laughter, nearly spilling your drink. “No way!”

“Swear on it. And I had to play the rest of the set like that,” she admitted, her voice tinged with both embarrassment and pride.

“Legendary,” you said, raising your glass to her.

When it was your turn, Sevika leaned forward, her smirk widening. “Dare,” you said confidently.

“I dare you to prank call your manager,” she said, pulling her phone from her pocket and sliding it over to you.

You grinned as you dialed her number, lowering your voice to imitate a stiff, formal tone. “Hello, this is Officer Jenkins with the local police department. We’ve received a complaint about you being a raging bitch. We got a warrant for your arrest.”

The sound of Lauren’s confused, half-asleep voice on the other end made Sevika snort with laughter. “(Y/N)…I’m not about to play wit—”

By the time you hung up, both of you were doubled over, Sevika clutching her sides.

As the dares and truths became bolder, the atmosphere started to shift. You dared Sevika to share her type, and her answer—“someone bold, someone who doesn’t back down”—came with a pointed look that left your cheeks warm.

“I’m not gonna lie…sounds like you’re describing yourself,” you teased, earning a low chuckle from her.

“Maybe I am,” she admitted, her gaze steady, almost daring you to break eye contact.

When your turn came, you chose dare, feeling emboldened by the whiskey warming your veins.

Sevika leaned forward, a lazy smirk spreading across her lips. “I dare you to sit on my lap.”

Your breath hitched, your cheeks heating, but you weren’t about to back down. “Fine,” you said, standing and walking toward her with as much confidence as you could muster.

Lowering yourself onto her lap, you felt her hands rest lightly on your waist. Her touch was casual, yet it sent a shiver up your spine.

“Comfortable?” she asked, her voice low, her breath warm against your ear.

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the way your heart raced. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” she replied, her eyes never leaving yours.

You leaned in closer, your faces inches apart, your lips hovering just shy of hers. “I dare you to kiss me.”

Sevika didn’t hesitate. Her hands tightened on your waist as she closed the gap between you, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. Her movements were deliberate, her lips soft but insistent, making your pulse race.

The kiss deepened, her tongue brushing against yours with a confidence that left you breathless. Her hands slid under your shirt, her fingertips grazing your bare skin, sending a thrill through you.

Your fingers tangled in her hair, tugging lightly as her lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw and then to your neck, leaving a heated path of kisses that made you arch into her. She gave you one last kiss on your collarbone before finding your lips again.

Her mechanical hand slid lower, gripping your ass firmly as she shifted you on her lap, pulling you even more against her. The other hand, far from idle, slid under your shirt. Her fingers, rough yet somehow gentle, brushed over your bare skin, grazing your ribcage, going under your bra before boldly cupping your breast. Her thumb flicked over your nipple, sending a jolt of heat straight through your body.

You gasped against her mouth, your hands tangling more in her hair as the kiss deepened. Her tongue swept into your mouth, teasing and dominating in equal measure, leaving you completely breathless. You arched into her touch, your body responding to her as if it had been waiting for this moment. She pulled away and found your neck again, this time leaving love bites.

“Sevika,” you moaned breathlessly, barely managing her name as her teeth grazed your skin.

“Shh,” she murmured against your neck, her lips returning to yours in a kiss that made you forget everything—until the door swung open with a loud creak.

“Are you fucking serious?”

Caitlyn’s voice was sharp, cutting through the haze like a bucket of cold water.

You scrambled off Sevika’s lap, your shirt hastily tugged back into place as you turned to see Caitlyn standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and her expression a mix of disbelief and exasperation. You were immediately sobered up.

Sevika, by contrast, remained unbothered, lounging back in her chair with her usual smirk firmly intact. “We were bonding,” she said lazily, her tone dripping with amusement.

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, setting her bag on the table. “If this is bonding, I’d hate to see what happens when you two don’t get along.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This is all your fault,” you muttered toward Sevika.

Sevika chuckled, leaning closer to you, her voice low and teasing. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

You shot her a glare, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed your annoyance. Caitlyn shook her head, muttering something about “never getting a break” as she climbed into her bed.

You grabbed Sevika by her arm, pulling her out of the chair and pushed her towards the door. “It’s time for you to go, Sev,” you said.

“Awe, but we were having so much fun,” she teased turning towards you, getting closer along with her face.

You immediately stopped her, putting a hand on your chest. “To be continued…maybe,” you said as you opened the door, gesturing for her to leave.

“I’ll take your word on that,” she added in quickly before leaving.

You climbed into bed beside Caitlyn, still feeling the heat of embarrassment from earlier. As you pulled the covers over yourself, you glanced at her. “Are you mad at me?” you asked softly.

Caitlyn let out a long groan, turning her head to look at you. “No. I mean… at least you’re standing by what you said last night.”

Her words made your stomach drop. “Oh, shit,” you muttered, sitting up slightly. “I talked about her while I was drunk? What did I even say?”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, though a small smirk tugged at her lips. “Something about her being annoyingly hot and how you wanted to fuck her so bad. Seems like you were in the process of it.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands, but Caitlyn wasn’t done. Her eyes zeroed in on your neck, and her smirk widened. “Speaking of… how long were you two going at it? You’ve got two huge hickeys on your neck.”

Your eyes snapped open, and you sat up abruptly. “What?!” You scrambled for your phone, turning on the front camera to inspect the damage.

Sure enough, there they were—two dark, unmistakable marks standing out against your skin. “Jesus,” you muttered in disbelief, your fingers brushing over the spots as if that would make them disappear.

Caitlyn chuckled, leaning back against the headboard. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to lecture you about keeping things professional. But just so you know, I’m giving you side-eye for the rest of the trip.”

You flopped back onto your pillow, staring at the ceiling. “This can’t get any worse,” you muttered.

Caitlyn shot you a look. “Don’t jinx it.”

taglist : @whatlefoop @nonexistentsourcherry @graciebloom @swordfemm4 @m00npjm @sevikasleftarm @fayecreates @mulan-but-gay @inlovewithsevikaandambessa @sapphiellar @artfairyyyyy

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coffeebooksrain18 · 2 days ago

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I can't believe people still think Alicent is the reason her and Rhaenyra’s friendship crumbled. Cause obviously we didn't see the same show.

Firstly people (TBs) say she ruined it by doing what her father told her to do and visit the King. Which makes me confused as I think they forget Alicent was 14 when Aemma died. At 14 I would think the best of my father and listen. But let's say Alicent didn't, in her position her father is Hand, the second most powerful person in the realm, you can exactly say no to someone of that power even if they are your dad. Plus back then girls were expected to listen to their fathers and then husband's like their word is law, and because of this mindset Alicent wouldn't say no. Another thing they say about this one is that she didn't need to visit Viaerys again. Yet again she didn't go because she wanted to, either her father the Hand or the King himself asked her to go. Both of them are people you can't say no to, especially the King so there goes that. Also stop saying she could have refused to marry him, she couldn't he's the fucking King.

Next one! That she refused to let her daughter Helaena marry Jace. I think TB forget this doesn't help Alicent, it helps Rhaenyra. In fact if she did agree she would be putting her daughter in possible danger if anyone found concrete proof of the Strong boys being Bastards. The reason for this is anyone connected to the hiding of Bastardy is also guilty and executed. So Helaena would have to defend her Husband's honor and legitimacy even if proof came out leading to her execution. So why would Alicent risk her only daughter so Rhaenyra could try and fix her mistakes? That makes no sense. Rhaenyra wasn't giving a olive branch she was trying to save her ass all while putting others in danger yet again.

Another one! That Rhaenyra tried to be kind at the dinner. You could say the same for Alicent in this situation? They were being kind because of Viserys, because they both knew he was dying and wanted him to see his family happy one last time. That doesn't show anything of Rhaenyra or Alicent trying to make amends. So stop acting like one tiny speech makes them besties again cause it doesn't.

Needless to say Alicent has been the one to make olive branches, I have made MANY posts about this fact. Rhaenyra didn't, so stop acting like Rhaenyra did.

#house of the dragon #hotd #team green #pro team green #anti team black #anti rhaenyra targaryen #anti rhaenyra stans #anti tb stans #anti team black stans #hotd alicent #queen alicent #alicent hightower #young alicent #pro alicent hightower #anti rhaenicent

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harrywavycurly · 13 hours ago

Text

Worth The Fight: Civil

Masterlist: Here

CW: language, arguing, angsty bits, pregnancy things

A/N: This one is a necessary sort of painful because we all know Harry needs a wake up call and this might just be it✨

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes

Summary: You ask Harry if he really wants to be a dad and it makes him rethink somethings everything and ends up with him having a impromptu therapy session with one of his bestfriends while you as usual pour your heart at to the only man that listens, Paris✨

Harry let’s out a groan as he tosses his phone onto the couch as he walks into his living room, not bothering to look to make sure it landed safely because right now he sort of wants to throw it at the wall and watch it break into pieces. Niall raises an eyebrow as he observes Harry from him spot on the loveseat, he watches with only a small amount of concern as Harry runs both hands through his hair giving it a few tugs as he lets out a frustrated sigh. Niall knows better than to ask questions when Harry is in one of his moods so he just sits back and lets his bestfriend pace the length of the couch with furrowed brows and what Niall would call an angry looking snarl on his face as if he’s fighting off the urge to hit something with the hands that are now balled into fists at his sides.

“Have you ever met someone who just,” Harry lets out a noise of pure aggravation as he pauses his pacing to look at Niall. “Makes you so irritated by just the simplest little thing but at the same time you don’t want to be mad or angry at them you just want to be around them and they-they keep making it impossible?” Niall rubs his lips together and nods as he watches Harry try his best to vocalize how he’s feeling in this exact moment.

“You mean someone who makes every emotion you feel seem like it’s dialed all the way to eleven?” Harry quirks a brow at Niall’s question as he places a hand on his hip. Niall just chuckles as he takes this as a queue to explain himself further.

“Like when you’re happy with them you’re the happiest you’ve ever been but when you’re mad it’s as if all you can see is red and you want to punch every wall in the house just to make yourself feel better and sometimes it’s like you’re always sort of mad at them and you don’t know why?” Harry nods his head as he turns and grips the back of the couch as he looks at Niall who seems to understand a bit of what Harry is going through right now emotionally.

“Yes it’s as if the only emotion I can feel around them is annoyance and it’s driving me mental.” Niall gives him a reassuring smile making him narrow his eyes into a glare at his friend who just laughs in response.

“Yeah Harry I’ve met someone like that.”

“What did you do about how they made you feel?”

“I asked her to be my girlfriend.” Harry feels his cheeks get pink at Niall’s answer, not expecting the person he was talking about to be his current partner. “Been going strong for a few years now so I’d say maybe get your head outta your ass and just ask this person out?” Niall suggests with a shrug making Harry let out a scoff as his grip on the back of the couch tightens.

“You’ve gone fully mental if you think that’s the solution to my problem.”

“The problem is you’re just mixing up your emotions that’s all.”

“What does that mean? I’m pretty sure I know the feeling of being irritated quite well thanks to sharing a tour bus with you for almost six years of my life.”

“I’m sure she’s irritating you but you need to take a look at why she’s making you feel like this. You said it yourself you just want to be around her and she’s making it hard right? How is she making it hard exactly?”

“Because she always has to be right and most of the time she is and instead of just acknowledging the fact she’s right I for some reason choose to say the stupidest shit and I end up back at square one.” Harry let’s out a sigh as he hangs his head down and closes his eyes as his mind flashes back to the conversation he just ended with you over text and how he just couldn’t admit that you needing time to forgive him for what he’s done is okay, he had to go and be the asshole you’ve grown used to him being.

“You wanna know why I think you really say the stupid shit you do to this poor girl?” Harry doesn’t bother to look up or open his eyes as he nods his head making Niall let out a sigh as he leans forward and rests his forearms on the tops of his thighs. “I think it’s because you’ve pushed your real feelings for her so deep down into yourself that the only emotions you have left to feel around her is anger and irritability. Not to mention you do bloody fucking hate admitting when someone else is right so her being right all the time probably makes you annoyed and it triggers you to say stupid and hurtful shit.” Harry slowly raises his head and opens his eyes so he can look at Niall who is already staring right at him.

“When the hell did you get to be so smart about all this kind of stuff?”

“You’re not the only one who goes to therapy you jackass.”

“Well it’s working wonders.” Niall just rolls his eyes as Harry bites his bottom lip as he tries to make a little sense of how he really feels about you. “I don’t-I don’t know how I really feel about her.” He admits quietly making Niall just nod as he stands up from the love seat.

“It’s the girl you met at that karaoke bar isn’t it? The one I met at Anne’s?” Harry debates in this moment if he should tell Niall just why you were at his mom’s house because maybe then he would understand why this whole thing is causing Harry so much stress.

“Yeah she’s uhm she’s actually pregnant.” Harry watches Niall’s eyes go wide as he turns his whole body so he’s facing Harry who is still gripping the back of his couch as if it’s the only thing capable of keeping him from collapsing to the floor in an emotional breakdown. “With my twins.” He adds making Niall’s mouth fall open but he catches himself a few moments later and closes it as he runs a hand over his face.

“Holy fucking shit.” Niall has both hands on his hips as he stares at Harry in pure shock. “You mean to tell me the girl you met at that bar and said you had a crazy connection with is the same girl I met at Anne’s and is also your baby momma?” Harry just nods and chews on his bottom lip as Niall lets out a huff. “And this is the girl you keep saying mean and hurtful shit to?”

“Yes Niall it’s all the same girl. She’s the one.”

“Yeah I’ll say she’s the one alight Harry you’ve gone and knocked up the girl you said you could picture yourself with after just one night at a fucking bar with her.”

“Don’t be so dramatic Niall I didn’t say that.”

“I’m not the dramatic one here mate. You said you can’t wait to see her again and even told her you’d call her the next day because you didn’t want to wait too long.”

“I would-would never tell anyone I’ll call them that’s tacky.”

“Let me just ask you something really quick Harry.”

“What?”

“How do you not know how you feel about her right now when you were so sure how you felt that night?”

“Because I can’t-” Niall watches Harry’s eyes go a few shades darker as they appear almost glassy looking as they stare back at him. “I can’t remember that night or at least good chunks of it-it’s just gone? I know I met her and clearly I enjoyed her company in more ways than one because she has my actual cellphone number but I can’t l-I can’t even remember details about that night so I sure as fuck can’t remember how I felt about her.” Harry swallows the lump of emotions in his throat as he admits the biggest issue he’s been dealing with ever since the first time you texted him all those weeks ago, the fact he can’t fully remember the night the two of you met.

“Fuck Harry I’m-I’m sorry.” Harry just shrugs as Niall’s shoulders slump down at hearing his bestfriend sadly admit why he can’t figure out his feelings towards you. “If it means anything I know how happy you sounded when you called me at four in the damn morning going on and on about her and-and I mean you have to know deep down that you feel something for her because if you didn’t then she wouldn’t be able to get these sort of reactions out of you. Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you’re sort of a fucking wreck right now and all I’ve seen you do is text someone-”

“It doesn’t matter how I feel about her now because this time I really fucked it up.” Harry snaps cutting Niall off.

“Fucked it up how?” He asks with concern because one thing he knows Harry is good at is saying things he doesn’t mean and causing situations to get out of control quickly.

“She asked me if I really want to be a dad right now. Like literally not even ten minutes ago she asked me that and I somehow managed to turn it all around and made her feel like shit for not being able to forgive me for something I did at the very beginning of all of this and now-now I don’t think I can fix it so we can even be friends? I think this was my last chance and I blew it.” Harry blinks back the tears he knows what to spill over and roll down his cheeks as Niall lets out a sad sigh and runs a hand through his hair.

“I mean that’s a valid question for her to ask because well I don’t know-do you want to be a dad right now?” Niall isn’t shocked at how quickly Harry answers because he knows the man standing in front of him with tears in his eyes has always wanted this, maybe not in this exact way but he’s always wanted to be a dad.

“Yes. More than anything.”

“And did you tell her that?”

“No.” Niall wants to roll his eyes but he doesn’t because he can clearly see the vulnerable and emotional state Harry is in. “I just got mad and that’s when I said the stupid things and now she thinks I’m an asshole.”

“Fuck okay well just walk me through all the shit that’s happened and the things you’ve said and maybe-maybe there’s still hope for you two being able to be friends at the very least.” Harry just nods as Niall heads over to the couch and takes a seat while Harry reaches down and grabs his phone off the cushion so he can scroll to your messages while he begins to tell Niall everything that’s happened between the two of you from the very beginning.

“We don’t hate him.” You say with a sigh as you look down at the orange cat cuddled up in your lap taking over half of the book you had started reading before you decided to reach out to Harry. “He’s their father and we don’t hate him.” You explain as you place your phone on your nightstand before you reach down and place a hand on Paris’s back giving him a nice pet.

“But we do dislike him a whole hell of a lot right now because he’s being an asshole.” You whisper to yourself as if you don’t want the two lemon sized babies in your belly to hear you talk poorly of their father. “He just doesn’t get it Paris and I don’t think he ever will.” The orange cat slowly opens his eyes and lets out a yawn as he stretches his front legs out before looking at you with a tilt of his head.

“So maybe we should just let it go? That would be easiest but-but it would also make it seem like me being upset with him and not trusting him doesn’t matter? And I don’t want him to think he can get away with things like that but I also,” you let out a shaky breath making Paris sit up so he can nuzzle his head against your cheek letting out a string of purrs in the process. “I’m so tired of fighting with him. I’m just so tired of it so fine I can be the bigger person and just-just move on.” You add with a sniffle as a few tears fall down your face as you give your cat a few loving pets making him purr and lean into your touch.

“The truly sad part is that when we met I really thought I might like him? It’s like the universe has me trapped in some sort of sick joke because the man who can’t seem to know how to do anything other than make me cry is someone I thought I could actually see myself with.” You let out a wet laugh as you wipe your cheeks and just shake your head at the idea of you ever having feelings for Harry especially now because the only feeling you get when you think about him is hurt.

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