#i miss fall foliage so much

[marlowe-art]

fall cat meetup

[celiastjamesoscar]

Exile

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: you and Wednesday were best friends when you were kids, but after Nero’s death, she became cold and distant, and your former friendship turned into a rivalry. Ten years after your friendship ended, unusual circumstances force you two back together.

Trope: childhood friends to enemies to lovers

Warnings: small violent at beginning, angst, death of Nero. Let me know if I missed any!

My Masterlist

Word Count: 12.3K (what’s a word count?)

The sound of children laughing rang throughout the woods on a crisp fall morning. The trees were beautiful vibrant colors that painted the landscape with shades of fiery red, golden yellow, and earthly orange. The crisp air that one could taste in their lungs carried a gentle rustling of fallen leaves while the scent of decaying foliage filled the atmosphere. The ground was adorned with a carpet of fallen leaves that created a soft crunch when the two children ran through the serene woodland.

Even though one child chased the other with a small ax, the two had the same fun. The one with the ax was a taller girl with jet-black twin braids who wore all-black clothing, expert for her white collar shirt. She wore a giant smile on her face as she chased her best friend, Y/N.

You were shorter than Wednesday but had just as much fire in you as Wednesday did. Where Wednesday’s eyes were as black as night, you had a gray and green eye that you used to hide behind sunglasses until Wednesday told you they were the most beautiful things in the world, “You shouldn’t hide what separates you from others, Y/N. Especially if it makes you all the more beautiful.”

You wore brighter colors than Wednesday, but you both shared a love for darkness. You were nothing without Wednesday, just as Wednesday was nothing without you.

The two made an odd pair, but one was never seen without the other. There were times when Morticia had to pry her daughter away from you to find that you had snuck back over sometime in the moonlight. Whenever Wednesday would practice her cello, she would invite you to play the piano, and together you two would create the most heavenly sound that would make angels cry. The contrast was there, but they fit together like puzzle pieces.

As they ran through the woods, you tripped on a small branch and fell to the ground, causing worry to overtake Wednesday as she sprinted to the fallen girl. “Are you alright, Y/N?” Wednesday asked as she knelt beside her friend, but her worry quickly disappeared when you sprang up and tackled her to the ground. You removed the ax from the taller girl’s grasp and held it to her neck. “I appear to be the victor,” you said with a giant smile contrasting Wednesday’s grim expression.

Wednesday leaned up and shoved you off her as she stood up and brushed herself off. “That’s hardly a win; you cheated,” Wednesday replied dryly as she helped you off the ground.

“I might have cheated, but you’re still the loser,” you shot back while standing up. You lived for the playful banter with Wednesday and would rather lose your tongue than go without annoying Wednesday for a day. You handed Wednesday the ax back so she could be the Hunter again, and she placed it in its holster on her hip.

As you two were getting ready to start a new game, a voice rattled the trees around you, “Wednesday! Y/N! Time to come home!” The two shared a look and rolled their eyes simultaneously; they both hated it when Morticia ruined their fun, but they started their walk back to the house nonetheless.

As they walked, Wednesday felt bold and pulled you into a headlock and brought the smaller girl’s head against her ribcage. You didn’t even have time to protest before you felt Wednesday’s knuckles dig into your scalp. You squirmed against Wednesday’s hold, but it was useless; the taller girl was stronger than you. So, you did what any sane person would do; you bit down on Wednesday’s forearm that was keeping you in place. Not enough to hurt the assailant, but just enough to let go of you. And just as you predicted, Wednesday let go of you and grabbed the area that the smaller girl just bit. “Why did you do that?” Wednesday questioned as she rubbed her arm back and forth.

“Uh, because I can?” You retorted as you motioned with her hand, giving Wednesday an attitude that the other girl scoffed at. “Let us go, my compact companion; we have tasks at hand,” Wednesday said as she grabbed your hand, and the two ran back to the Addams’ residence together.

“You have to stop calling me that,” you whined. Wednesday had her collection of names to call you, and the shorter girl hated them.

“It’s not my fault you’re shorter than me; blame your genetics,” Wednesday replied with a dry tone but a slight smile that caused you to smile once you saw it. Wednesday never smiled at anyone except you; Wednesday made a lot of exceptions for the more petite girl, even though she would never admit it.

When they arrived at the mansion, both girls were out of breath as Morticia came outside to greet them. “Hello, my little doves. Did you two enjoy the hunt?” Wednesday’s mother asked them as they went inside and took off their shoes.

“Yes, Mrs. Addams, I always have fun with Wens. She’s the best,” you breathlessly replied as you followed Wednesday up to her room.

Morticia was always fond of you; she loved how her morbid daughter seemed to light up when she was around you, and she knew that her daughter could always rely on and trust you. But all great things must come to an end.

Wednesday held her bedroom door open for you as they entered. The room was dark and cold, but it had character, like Wednesday. There were two giant windows that Wednesday always kept covered on the opposite wall of the door. There were collections of knives hung up on the walls, and the shelves were littered with bookshelves, and in the corner of the room was a cello right next to Y/N’s piano. A small fireplace was built into the wall and had a black, round table in front of it that sat only two. A black bed was in the center of the room with its headboard against the wall, and at the end of the bed was a small bed bench that was purple, Y/N’s favorite color. Above Wednesday’s bed were two swords mounted onto the ceiling; one had a black handle with the purple initials of W.A. etched into the ricasso, while the other had a purple handle with your initials engraved in black. You found the swords a bit odd, but according to Wednesday, it made her feel like Damocles.

You messed with the record player beside the fireplace and put on your favorite record. Soon, the upbeat saxophone of ‘Bop’ by Dan Seals filled the room. Wednesday rolled her eyes when she saw you recreate John Travolta’s ‘Twist’ dance from Pulp Fiction.

I want to bop with you, baby, all night long

I want to be-bop with you, baby, till the break of dawn

I want to bop with you, baby, all night long

“Come on, Wens. You know you wanna dance with me,” You said as you started making the swimming motion from the dance. Finding that she could never say no to Y/N, Wednesday rolled her eyes again before copying Uma Thurman’s dance to match you. When Wednesday did the snorkel dance move, you laughed at the taller girl’s awkwardness, and Wednesday smiled at the thought of making you laugh.

Out of breath, the two finished the dance, and they both had giant smiles as their eyes copied their lips. “Shall we dance again, my fair lady?” You asked as she stuck out your hand and slightly bowed.

“You’re exhausting,” Wednesday stated but took your hand and allowed the girl to spin her.

Twenty minutes had passed when the clock on the fireplace dinged, telling Wednesday it was time to walk Nero. “It’s time for me to walk Nero, but I will see you when I get back,” Wednesday stated as she moved toward the area that was reserved for Nero and got him out of his cage, and put him on his leash.

The three walked down the front door together and left the house together. “See you in a minute,” you said as you walked away from Wednesday. The taller girl sent you a small wave as she walked toward town with Nero.

You arrived home and did what you usually did when Wednesday was away; you waited. You knew Wednesday’s schedule to the tee: wake up at six, morning torture with Pugsley at six-thirty, breakfast at seven-thirty, play with Y/N at eight until her walk with Nero at ten-thirty, come back at eleven and practice her cello with Y/N until twelve-thirty and have lunch at twelve-thirty five. The hours between one and three were filled with any ‘spontaneous activities’ Wednesday might want to do, and at four, she read until five, had dinner at six, and did nightly torturing with Pugsley (or Y/N if you consented) at six-thirty until bedtime at eight-thirty.

So when you checked the clock and saw it was ten-thirty-five, you left her house and skipped to Wednesday’s. As you approached the house, there was a sudden shift in the air, and you could taste it on your lips: death had arrived. You cautiously walked up the stairs and knocked on the door, something you never did. You were always around Wednesday so much that Morticia told you that you didn’t need to knock anymore as she could ‘sense’ the girl’s presence.

When the door opened, you knew that something had happened; you just hoped that Wednesday was okay. Gomez was standing before you with a grim expression as he ushered you in. Your eyes landed on a weeping Wednesday, and your heart broke. You moved to sit next to the goth girl and opened your arms, and Wednesday immediately hugged you and buried her face in the crook of your neck. You rubbed her best friend’s back as she continued crying; you didn’t know what to do, but you only knew that you wanted to be with Wednesday.

The following day, Wednesday had a funeral for Nero, and no one but Y/N could attend. The two girls shed a tear as they both placed a flower on his grave, and you comforted Wednesday once more. Later that night, in Wednesday’s room, Wednesday had allowed you to sleep in bed with her. The two girls were cuddled together, staring at the swords above them, when Wednesday broke the silence, “You are far too dear to me, Y/N. The pain I have felt the past two days is something I never want to experience again, and I certainly do not wish to experience it all over again because of you.”

“Don’t worry, Wednesday. You’re stuck with me till life do us part,” you replied as you hugged your best friend, never wanting to lose the girl.

At just six years old, Wednesday had lost her beloved pet and experienced grief for the first time, and she knew that she would have to grieve every single person in her life at some point. So that night, she made a vow; never to be close enough to someone where she would shed a tear because of their death, and that meant letting go of who she loved most: Y/N.

At first, it was very subtle: Wednesday would smile less around you, and she would spend less time working with you on your music. It was so subtle that no one but you noticed, and it hurt you. Then, more significant things began to happen; Wednesday would purposely fill her schedule with things to do that didn’t involve you, and when you two did hang out, she made sure to try and distance herself from you. And then it all came crashing down on Wednesday’s seventh birthday.

You had a small box in your hand as you walked up the steps to the front door of the Addams mansion and knocked, patiently waiting for someone to open the door. Only a few seconds had passed before Morticia opened the door and towered over the small child. “Hello, my darling. Wednesday is in the greenhouse,” Morticia said as she stood aside and let you into the house before shutting the door.

“Thank you, Mrs. Addams. I haven’t seen her in a couple of days, so I hope she won’t be angry,” you innocently said as you ignored the pain in her heart that Morticia seemed to pick up on.

Eager to change the subject in fear of you becoming sad, Morticia asked as she led you to the greenhouse, “I’ve already told you that you can stop calling me ‘Mrs. Addams,’ My child, so why do you continue?”

You shrugged your shoulders at the comment. You didn’t know why you still spoke to the woman in a formal tone, but it felt weird on your tongue to call her anything else. “I don’t know, I think it’s a respect thing for me,” you replied as you opened the door to the greenhouse. Morticia nodded at the child’s words before whispering, “Have fun with my little death trap.”

You smiled at Morticia’s words as you entered the greenhouse. You knew precisely where Wednesday would be and didn’t pretend to look for the goth girl.

Wednesday was cutting black roses from their stem when she heard soft footsteps behind her. She didn’t bother turning around; she could recognize those footsteps in the crowd of a thousand people. “What are you doing here, YN?” Wednesday asked in a dry tone that caused you to stiffen.

“It’s your birthday, and I wanted to give you something,” you said as you approached Wednesday and set the box next to her. “I know you love your birthday, as it is one more year closer to your death, so here’s your present to celebrate.”

Wednesday gave the more petite girl a suspicious look before putting down the rose and scissors and picking up the box. It was unnaturally light, so she doubted it was a weapon or bomb. She slowly took the lid off the box, and any words died on the tip of her tongue once she realized what it was.

It was a small, black, crocheted scorpion that took you hours to make. She also saw a small note underneath the scorpion, but she didn’t pick it up as her vision became red.

She didn’t know why she was angry. All Wednesday knew was that she wanted you gone. “Get out,” Wednesday hissed as she set the box down and grabbed a knife from her boot.

“What? Why?” You asked as you slowly backed up from Wednesday as your eyes fell on the knife. Of course, Wednesday would make the occasional threats, but you had never believed them; until now.

“Friends are nothing but liabilities, and they only hold me back. So. Get. Out.” Wednesday repeated as she backed you against a small flower pot. She no longer had control over her emotions, and every second she spent with you only seemed to anger her more.

“Wednesday, please. I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought you would have liked the gift. Please, I’m your best friend, and I-” Any words you were about to say got caught in your throat as Wednesday brought the knife up, cutting a straight line on your left eye. The cut was three inches below your eye and an inch above it.

The two stood there in disbelief as neither could believe what happened. Only when blood started pouring out of your cut, and you collapsed onto the floor did Wednesday do something; she called out for her mother’s help for the first and only time as she held you in her eyes, trying her best to fight back tears.

Morticia ran out to the greenhouse and instantly scooped you into her arms as she yelled for Gomez. The man came burling down the stairs and could not contain his tears as she saw your blood-covered state.

The couple quickly rushed you to the hospital, and once you were checked into the ER, the couple notified your parents. They arrived within ten minutes of the phone call, and they were everything but calm, from questioning how Morticia and Gomez allowed this to happen to demanding that Wednesday be punished.

The two sets of parents seemed to be at each other’s throats while Wednesday tried her best to disappear. She felt nothing but guilt for hurting her Y/N, and she wanted to do everything possible to make it up to the girl. So when Wednesday got her chance to see you, she practically sprinted into your room.

You were lying in a hospital with the entire left side of your face bandaged up, and Wednesday could see some blood seeping through. Wednesday slowly approached the bed and gently grabbed your hand. As if repulsed by the touch, you quickly pulled your hand away from Wednesday’s and brought it to your chest. You glared at Wednesday with your right eye before hissing, “Get out.”

“No, Y/N, you don’t understand-” Wednesday started but was quickly cut off by Y/N.

“I’m nothing but a liability to you, Wednesday, so leave,” you said as you crossed your arms and looked away from Wednesday, refusing to cry in front of the taller girl. ‘I think I’ll miss you forever; like the stars miss the sun in the morning skies,’ you thought as you watched your best friend leave.

Wednesday nodded her head and slowly walked to the door, and turned to face you one last time. “Please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere.”

You were once her crown, and now she was in exile seeing you out. She gave you so many warning signs, but you never learned to read her mind.

When she left the hospital, she felt nothing but shame and guilt that filled her body the entire car ride back home. She cleaned the blood off the floor before going to her room, where she sobbed for the second and last time.

School was different after that happened; the former best friends refused to meet each other’s gaze and soon found that their previous partnership turned into rivalry, constantly competing to be number one. It was an unfair competition, as Wednesday was more naturally gifted than you, and she seemed to beat you at everything, but you refused to give you. You would spend hours perfecting your craft, and when it came time for the archery competition, you beat Wednesday by a single point. Any chance for friendship was ruined when you accepted the first-place trophy and sent Wednesday an evil glare when she was awarded her second-place trophy.

Their rivalry continued like this for numerous years, always for captain for a particular activity or number one in their grade, but just as before, you always seemed to fall short. It continued for three years until you suddenly stopped showing up for school.

Wednesday believed that she had beaten you so far into the ground that you decided to stop coming to school. But after two weeks had passed and Wednesday had not seen her former best friend, she became curious and decided to stop by your house.

Only when Wednesday saw the ‘for sale’ sign in your yard, she allowed herself to be swallowed by guilt. She had pushed you too far in their competition for first and had made you move. Wednesday realized that she might never see her Y/N again, and regret flooded her mind as she slept on the purple bed bench with your sword in her arms.

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“I think we are getting a new student today, and I'm totes excited!” Enid exclaimed as she skipped to Wednesday’s side of the room. The last person to arrive at Nevermore Academy was Wednesday herself, so naturally, Enid was ecstatic to meet someone new.

“You know I do not care for new faces who share the same boring personalities as everyone else here,” Wednesday mumbled while she typed on her type-writer.

Enid huffed at Wednesday’s remark before glancing at her roommate’s work. Wednesday noticed the action and quickly sent an elbow into Enid’s side, causing the girl to groan in pain. “You also know I hate it when you try to read my work. I have no idea why you keep trying to read anything; you know the result,” Wednesday stated as she continued typing.

“Whatever. Just humor me for a moment,” Enid said as she put some space between her and Wednesday, avoiding any elbows that might be sent her way. “I will not humor you but continue.”

“So, from what my sources tell me, she’s from Italy, not like the normal part of Italy, but the mob part!” Enid informed while using her hands to talk.

“Enid, just because someone is from Sicily doesn’t mean they are in the mob. And if she is, I would like to interrogate her about it; it could add a new element to my novel,” Wednesday said.

The brighter girl walked to her side of the room and grabbed her phone. When she picked it up, she made an obnoxious sound before sprinting to Wednesday. “She’s here Wednesday. You have to come and meet her!” Enid exclaimed as she lightly pulled on Wednesday’s arm, causing her to receive a death glare, but she allowed herself to be drawn from her seat.

The two quickly walked down the stairs and arrived at Weems’ office. “Why are we standing creepily outside Weems’ office?” Wednesday questioned as she glanced over her shoulder at her roommate.

“Because, silly, she’s in there talking to Weems right now, and when she comes out, I want to be the first to greet her. And I’ve already volunteered to give her a tour of the grounds,” Enid exclaimed in a hushed tone as if the stranger and Weems were pressed against the door, spying on their conversion.

“And what will I do? I am certainly not talking to another half-brain student,” Wednesday said dryly as she stared at the door.

Enid rolled her eyes at the goth girl’s statement; she had made Wednesday talk to someone new only once to find out that the person only talked about horses and the patriarchy. “You can glare uncomfortably on the sidelines then,” Enid replied.

Wednesday was getting ready to retort when she heard shuffling from behind the door and soft-spoken words that she could not make out.

“Howdie, friend! I’m Enid, and I’ll be giving you the tour!” Enid enthusiastically said as she attacked the girl with a hug.

All the air from Wednesday’s lungs had been sucked out as she stared at the stranger before her. She prayed to the old gods and new that this wasn’t some evil joke, her punishment for raising the dead. But when she saw the stranger smile, she knew this was her Y/N.

You stood before Wednesday with a human highlighter wrapped around your waist. You were wearing black slacks with a black button-up, and Wednesday felt a heart pick up as she admired you in her color. Where you once had chubby cheeks, they were now thinned out, and you had a jawline that could cut glass. You were once a short and stocky kid, but now you towered over Enid, and your muscular arms wrapped around the rainbow girl. It seemed like everything about you had changed, but nothing at all as well. You still had that bright smile and charming personality, as always, but Wednesday’s heart sank when she saw the scar on your eye. It took her a moment to notice it as you wore black sunglasses hiding your beautiful heterochromia.

“Ah, good, you’re already here, Enid, to give Miss Y/L/N a tour, and you’ve brought Miss Addams as well,” Weems said as she stepped out of her room and stood next to Enid and you. Wednesday nearly melted onto the floor when she saw you pull back from Enid and stand up straight, just a few inches shorter than Weems. She noticed how your smile faltered at the mention of ‘Addams’ before you played it off and plastered a fake smile on your lips. The air that was once filled with playful curiosity was one of tension, anger, betrayal, and longing.

“Addams,” you said with no emotion in a thick Italian accent as you extended your large and callused hand toward Wednesday that engulfed the goth girl’s small and cold hand. When your hands touched for the first time in ten years since the hospital, you both felt an electric charge pass between you two, and time seemed to stand still for a moment while the rest of the world disappeared around them.

Your covered eyes locked with Wednesday’s, and you both knew you felt an undeniable spark that sent shivers down your spines. Unspoken words seemed to flow between their fingertips as if their souls were communicating through the simple touch. They both felt the unexplainable and undeniable chemistry rushing back and flooding their minds as they looked at each other for the first time in seven years.

“Y/L/N,” Wednesday replied as she eagerly dropped your hand and wiped her palm on her pants as if it would erase the spark she felt.

Enid and Weems both shared a look as they watched the awkward encounter between the two girls, clearly displaying that they have a history between them. Enid cleared her throat as she stepped between you and Wednesday, “alrighty then, shall we get started with our tour?”

Your mood switched on a dime, and you instantly beamed at Enid’s words. You smiled down at the girl and locked your elbow with hers, and rested your hand gently on her arm, “Of course, my dear, let us begin our journey.” Wednesday pulled her eyes at your remark but walked a few paces behind you and her roommate; she knew this would be the start of a very unfortunate friendship.

“Welcome to the quad,” Enid said as she unlocked your arms and motioned around with her hands. “It’s a pentagon,” you replied as you looked at your surroundings.

Enid rolled her eyes at your comment; great, now she’d have to deal with two Wednesdays as if one wasn’t enough. “You know, Wednesday said the same thing when she first arrived too. I have a feeling you two will be the best of friends!” Enid stated in a cheerful tone after releasing that her roommate can have more than one friend.

“No,” the formal best friends said simultaneously and sent each other a glare, and if Enid picked up on it, you were glad she didn’t say anything.

“Allow me to give you a rundown on the social scene here at Nevermore,” Enid said as she walked around the ‘quad.’ “There are many flavors of outcasts here, but the four main cliques are Fangs, Furs, Stoners, and Scales,” the brighter girl stated while counting her fingers.

As Enid gave you the tour, you half paid attention out of respect for the girl trying to sell Nevermore to you, but all you could think about was the more petite girl standing a few feet behind you. You could feel her eyes burning holes into your back, but you couldn’t face her again, not after everything you’ve been through. There was once a time when you would have laid down your life for Wednesday; now, you could barely breathe the same air as her without getting angry. You knew it was stupid to hold a grudge for this long, but Wednesday was your first and only love, and you would be damned if you let her see you weak again.

When you finished the tour, Enid took you to your room, which was, unfortunately, in Ophelia Hall. “O-M-G! You’re rooming with Yoko! She is my best friend,” Enid announced before looking over at Wednesday, “well, besides Wens, obviously.”

Your heart sank at the nickname for Wednesday. Only you were allowed to call her Wens when you were children, and she barely let you do that. And now, here she was, allowing someone dressed like unicorn vomit to call her that without so much as an idle threat.

“‘Wens?’” You questioned with an eyebrow raised as you looked between the two roommates. You were glad you started to wear your sunglasses again so that neither girl could see the sadness in your eyes. But Wednesday knew you all too well, and she saw how your posture faltered when Enid called her that, and she saw the barely noticeable frown that tugged at your lips. ‘My name should only ever leave your lips,’ Wednesday wanted to say, but she held her tongue.

“Oh, yeah. That’s my nickname for Wednesday. She told me that no one has ever given her one before, so I decided to give her one,” Enid said as she ushered the two girls back to her room, “Come on, I wanna show you mine and Wednesday’s room.”

At the mention of Wednesday never having a nickname, you dropped your fake smile and looked at Wednesday, who was refusing to meet your gaze. ‘Do I mean that little to you where you would erase even our happiest memories?’ You thought when Wednesday finally looked up at you, and for the first time today, you saw emotion in her dark eyes: regret.

“I love the window,” you said as you entered Enid and Wednesday’s room. You loved the contrast between the two girls and how they seemed to get along perfectly; it reminded you of when you were young and Wednesday’s favorite person. Now, the girl barely looked at you.

“Thanks; the first day here, Wednesday took off her side of color and then put tape down to divide our room. And now look at how far we’ve come! I’m like the only one here who Wens actually cares about!”Enid exclaimed as she spun in her circle with her arms outstretched, clearly happy to be buddy-buddy with Wednesday. You nodded your head, trying to push back the tears that weld in your eyes at the mention of Wednesday caring for someone else before your eyes snapped to something on Wednesday’s wall.

“What’s this?” You questioned as you moved to get a closer look at the object that had caught your attention, causing both of the roommates to follow you.

“Oh, that’s one of Wednesday’s favorite weapons. She doesn’t let anyone touch it, not even me,” Enid said as her eyes fell on the sword mounted to the wall above Wednesday’s writing desk. Your eyes scanned over the sheathed sword and fell to the purple handle before you turned and looked at Wednesday. “May I?” You asked in a barely audible voice.

You expected Wednesday to shoot you down before you even finished speaking, but the girl gave you a curt nod, not trusting her voice at this moment. Your hands reached up and took the sword off its mantle, and you slowly took it out of its sheath and set it down on Wednesday’s desk. You turned the sword over and admired the sharp edge as you carefully ran your pointer finger along the blade’s edge; you could easily tell that Wednesday had been sharpening it routinely. Your finger finally made its way to the helm of the sword, and you turned it over and sucked in air as you let out a small chuckle.

You read your initials that were still engraved in the sword before your saddened eyes finally looked up at Wednesday’s guilt-ridden ones. Wednesday thanks the gods that you had your eyes covered, as she knew her heart would have broken ten times over if she saw the sadness in them.

“Well, then,” you said with a shaky breath as you sheathed the sword and placed it back on its mantle, “it’s a beautiful blade, Wednesday.” Your eyes caught something in the corner of Wednesday’s desk, and you felt every single emotion wash over you like waves crashing onto the shore: a small, black crocheted scorpion sat on top of an unopened note. Before you could comment on it, Wednesday’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“I know it is,” Wednesday spoke honestly as her eyes danced across your face while you picked up on the double meaning behind her words.

After several seconds of awkward tension, you cleared your throat and walked to the door, “Alright then, I’ll, uh, leave you guys to it.”

Wait!” Enid shouted as she skipped over to you with her phone in hand. “Let me get your Snapchat so we can talk some more,” she said as she pulled up Snapchat. You smiled politely as you pulled your phone out of your back pocket and opened up Snapchat, and allowed the werewolf to add you, and you accepted her friend request when it popped up.

“I’ll see you later, Enid,” you said as you opened up the door to walk out, but you stopped and turned around to face Wednesday, “see you around sometime, Addams.” As you left, only one thought ran across both of your minds: ‘I can’t say hello to you and risk another goodbye.’

When you left the room, Enid immediately turned to face her roommate. “What was that about?” She questioned while staring down at the goth girl.

“I have no idea what you are referring to,” Wednesday replied as she walked over to her desk and began working on her novel. She had emotions come back that she had not felt in nearly ten years, and she needed to get them off her chest, writing out different scenarios of her killing Y/N.

Enid stomped to Wednesday’s desk and turned the small girl around in her chair. She grasped Wednesday’s shoulders and tightly gripped them as she spoke, “Yes, you do. Do not lie to me, Wednesday, or I will paint the side of your hot pink.”

The more petite girl rolled her eyes at her roommate’s comment before prying the hands off her shoulders and returning to her typewriter. “We used to be friends, and now we aren’t; end of story,” Wednesday flatly replied.

“I don’t believe you, I know there’s more to the story, but I won’t pressure you,” Enid defeatedly said as she walked over to her bed and lay down. Of course, she was dying to know the history between you and Wednesday. Still, she would never force Wednesday to talk about something uncomfortable, so she decided to wait it out and see if she could get an answer from either you or Wednesday first.

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The two roommates walked into fencing class and heard the ringing of metal crashing together, and saw that Bianca was in a match with you. The two watched as you blocked Bianca’s advances and matched each of her assaults with double the force, causing the siren to walk backward toward the end of the mat. With one final blow against Bianca’s foil, you cause her to step backward off of the mat and ultimately lose the match.

Bianca let out an angry huff at the loss but shook your hand afterward. “You gave me a nice challenge, and I respect that. I hope to go up against you again soon,” the siren said as she walked off the mat.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky next time and beat me,” you joked as you started to take off your gear when your eyes landed on Wednesday. Before you had moved, you and Wednesday were always in fencing competitions, and it seemed that the two of you were always paired to go against one another. Naturally, you lost every time you went against her, but that was seven years ago, and you spent the past seven years perfecting every little thing that Wednesday was better at.

“Coach Vlad, I was wondering if I could go against someone else before class ends?” You questioned as you stood up. You knew that if you publicly challenged Wednesday that she couldn’t turn it down, and you also knew that she believed she was still the better fencer, so both of those gave you an advantage.

Coach Vlad studied your expression and determined that you only asked to prove a point, so he let you. “Who will you be challenging, miss Y/LN?”

“Addams,” was all you said as you stared at the girl dressed in an all-black fencing attire. Wednesday’s ears perked up at you challenging her, and she knew she would clear you.

“Very well, Wednesday, if you accept the challenge, stand the opposite of Y/N,” Coach Vlad stated with a hint of excitement. He loved watching the way the Addams sparred with his students; she was graceful yet coarse, which reminded him of when he was a student here at Nevermore.

Wednesday walked over to the mat you were standing on, her eyes locked with your covered ones. She wondered what made you wear those sunglasses again, and she missed those eyes she once called home.

“En garde,” Coach Vlad yelled as the atmosphere crackled with tension. The room falls into a reverent silence as the match begins. With grace and precision, you and Wednesday engage in a mesmerizing dance of footwork and technique, each exchange showcasing your guys' skill and determination.

Their moves were swift and calculated, their attacks and defenses fluid, each striving to gain the upper hand. The crowd of students watched in awe as they witnessed a display of finesse and competitive spirit.

Wednesday made the first aggressive move, launching a series of rapid lunges, attempting to catch you off guard. But you proved your prowess with deft parries, countering with swift ripostes that keep Wednesday on her toes.

As the match progressed, the intensity escalated, and their footwork became even more intricate, seeking to exploit any opening in their opponent's defense. The clang of metal echoed through the hall as their foils met in a series of fierce clashes.

Neither competitor gave an inch, their faces showing steely determination. You and Wednesday are evenly matched, your skills complementing each other, creating a mesmerizing spectacle for the crowd.

With each point you and Wednesday scored, your fellow students held their breaths, afraid that if they cheered, it would mess you two up. Yours and Wednesday’s adrenaline surged, and your focus sharpened, all distractions fading away as you two immersed yourselves entirely in the moment.

Time seemed to slow down, the seconds stretching into eternity as the match neared its climax. With one final burst of energy, you executed a daring feint, catching Wednesday off balance. In that split second, you placed your foot on top of Wednesday’s and advanced, causing the more petite girl to fall backward onto the mat. You stood over her and shoved the tip of the foil into her chest armor.

“I appear to be the victor,” you said as you towered over Wednesday before she quickly jumped up from the ground and stormed out of the hall, with you right on her heels.

“That was hardly a win; you cheated,” Wednesday stated as she stomped toward Ophelia hall. “And stop following me.”

“I might have cheated, but you’re still the loser,” you retorted as you quickened your step to walk beside Wednesday. “And I’m not following you; we live in the same hall.”

Wednesday said nothing; she couldn’t argue with the fact you two shared a hallway, but she still didn’t like it. You watched as Wednesday threw her door open and slammed it shut with a smile on your face; it felt good to have that playful banter back.

Naturally, your rivalry with Wednesday continued as if it had never left; you two constantly competed for the correct answers in your classes, and you two refused to fence with anyone else. It became so toxic that teachers started putting you two out in the hallway during class, like little toddlers who were being disruptive.

“I had a marvelous time ruinin’ everything,” you joked with Wednesday as it seemed you two were sitting outside your potions class once more. You had your back pressed against the stone wall next to the door, and Wednesday opted to sit next to you but kept a few feet between you.

“I do suppose ruining the activities of others is tolerable with you,” Wednesday said as she looked over at your beautiful smile that she once loved and felt her own lips twitch upward.

“I know my antics should be celebrated, but I’m glad you tolerate it,” you said once you saw her scary attempt at a smile.

At the week's end, Enid invited you to her room for some “girl talk.” You had no idea what girl talk would involve, but you wouldn’t pass up a chance to piss Wednesday off.

“Welcome to my dreamhouse!” Enid exclaimed as she opened the door and ushered you into her room. You knew it might be ill-tempered to say this, but you were jealous of Enid’s room. You loved the giant window in the center that emitted different colors throughout the room, highlighting and contrasting the two drastically different sides.

You followed Enid to her side and sat down on her bed with her. You allowed the werewolf to paint your nails a dark purple. She asked you questions about your past and what you wanted to do in the future. You told her that Criminal Justice intrigued you and you thought about becoming a detective at some point. In turn, you asked her what her future plans were, and she told you that if her parents allowed her, she would want to explore the world and see all the beauties she offered.

After you two had fallen into a peaceful conversation, she finally asked the question plaguing her mind since you first arrived, “So, how did you get that scar? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You swore you could hear a hairpin drop right when you felt the moment stop. It was as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room and replaced it with tension. Your eyes shot to Wednesday, who was previously typing on her typewriter but stopped when Enid asked the question. You quietly cleared your throat before speaking, “I, uh… it was my fault. I did something stupid without asking for permission, and I paid the consequences. That’s all.”

Wednesday felt her heart shatter into a million pieces when she heard you blame yourself for what happened. She wanted to run to Enid’s side of the room and tell you that it wasn’t your fault and that she would do anything she could to take it back, to have you back. She felt a single tear run down her cheek as she returned to her novel.

Not believing your story, Enid didn’t say anything else. She knew there was something more to the story, but she didn’t want to pressure you into telling her. “Well, I think it makes you look ten times hotter,” Enid confessed with a sly smile and a wink. She ignored how her hearing picked up on Wednesday’s heartbeat increased with jealousy at the comment.

You slightly chuckled at Enid’s comment before looking at Enid’s own scars that she sometimes tried to cover up. They were out of place on the brightly dressed girl, but it added a hint of toughness and bravery to her look that almost made you laugh. “What about your scars?” You politely asked, but Enid tensed up at your question.

“Oh. I got them from saving Wednesday last year,” she responded quietly as she continued painting your nails. She refused to meet your gaze, and you felt bad for asking about them, but you wanted to know more. “Why do you cover them up then? You shouldn’t be ashamed of your scars; they prove your loyalty to Wednesday.”

A slight grin tugged at Enid’s lips; she had never had anyone, but Wednesday tell her she was brave. “Thank you, Y/N. It’s just,” she paused as she glanced up at you before continuing her work on your hand, “my mother hates them and says I should be ashamed of myself for ruining any chance I have at finding someone.”

“You shouldn’t listen to your mother, Enid. I think those scars are beautiful, and they display your bravery,” you said as you reached up with your hand and gently traced the scar above Enid’s eyebrow. When a small tear fell down Enid’s cheek, you wiped it away and gave her a soft smile, and Enid knew right then that you were the most authentic person she had ever met. No one has ever been this honest with her, and she cherished your friendship.

Enid let a few quiet minutes pass by before she asked you about your first week at Nevermore, and you told her your honest thoughts. You enjoyed the classes but felt that some students cared too much about their social status and that you loved walking in the woods at night, causing the girl to stop painting your left ring finger.

“You do what at night?” Enid questioned harshly as her bright blue eyes stared into your soul.

“I go for midnight strolls by myself. Weems never told me not to.”

Enid scoffed at your words before glaring at Wednesday, who was working on her novel. “Wednesday is actually the reason we can’t walk around at night.”

At the mention of her name, Wednesday straightened her poster and turned around to face you two.

“Do not blame me for the shortcomings of the town sheriff for being unable to keep the people safe from his own son,” the goth girl stated in a threatening manner with an undertone of regret that you picked up on. You noticed the way Wednesday’s eyes seemed to gloss over with anger when she mentioned the sheriff’s son, and you could only assume something happened between them, which caused your heart to stink at the thought.

“I’m not blaming you, Wens. I’m just stating that you and your boy toy did play a part in ruining our time outside at night,” Enid said innocently as she went back to pairing your nails; she didn’t notice how you tensed up, and you're surprised that she didn’t hear your heart break in two. Your heartbroken eyes shoot to Wednesday’s pained ones, and you can practically read the thoughts behind her eyes, ‘I lost myself when I lost you.’

Even though you still had your eyes covered, Wednesday knew what you were thinking, ‘how could you betray me like this?’ You two were children when you last saw each other, but now as almost adults, you knew that all those feelings you felt for each other were more than platonic; it just took you two a lifetime and a half to realize it. As you two stared at each other, you felt all the love you once felt for each other return in an instant; feelings that come back are feelings that never left.

“‘Boy toy?’” You questioned as your eyes refused to leave Wednesday’s. You knew you would only get hurt by asking, but you had to know.

“It was a moment of weakness, Y/N. Nothing more,” Wednesday spoke with emotion for the first time as her voice broke off towards the end. She quickly cleared her throat and excused herself to the balcony with her cello before you had time to respond to her.

When Enid finished up your nails, you two were getting ready to do a face mask when she got a text. “Yes! Ajax just texted me to hang out with him! Is it alright if I leave you here? Or you can go back to your room if you want?” Enid asked as she stood up from her bed; you ignored the name at the top of her screen that read ‘Yoko.’

“I think I’m going to stay here for a while and hang out with Thing but go have fun,” you said with a faint smile as you watched Enid leave. Honestly, you missed Thing almost as much as you missed Wednesday. Anytime Wednesday would be away, and you were over, you would always hang out with Thing, and right now, he was definitely your favorite Addams.

You chatted with Thing over the sound of Wednesday’s cello for nearly twenty minutes as you did his nails and filled him in on what has happened to you in the past seven years. You told him stuff that you would be too afraid to share with Wednesday, not out of trust, but in fear of what she might do to the people that hurt you.

Only when Wednesday’s cello started to pick up and play a heavy melody did you stop talking. You listened to the way the smaller girl seemed to pour all of her emotions into her song, a song that was full of yearning, hurt, and regret. You listened as there was a slight shift in the music that resembled anger and frustration before turning into a declaration of love. And when the song finally ended on a note that sounded like longing, you got up and walked out to the balcony.

“That was a lovely song,” you said as you walked past Wednesday and rested your elbows against the balcony edge.

Wednesday gave you a quiet ‘mhm’ as a response as she set her cello to the side and joined you at the stone railing, making sure to keep five feet between you for homosexual purposes.

The two of you quietly enjoyed the starry night with a crescent moon above you.

“The sky is so beautiful tonight,” you said, gazing at the stars and moon with your sunglasses still on.

“It is,” Wednesday agreed, but she wasn’t looking up at the sky at all.

When you looked down at Wednesday, she was already staring at you with a tiny glint in her eyes. She subconsciously moved closer to you til she was standing a few inches away from you, and she slowly reached her hands up to take your glasses off. You turned to face her, quickly backing away, and put a foot between you two, “the fuck are you doing?”

“Take it off,” Wednesday stated in a dry tone.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because this ‘nerdy girl takes off her glasses and everyone finds out she’s actually really hot’ will not work on you,” you replied with sass in your voice.

“No, it won’t because you are not attractive in the slightest way,” Wednesday retorted while still staring into your soul.

“Thank you, Addams.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“I know,” you said with a smile as you turned and leaned your elbows on the railing once more and continued staring at the stars. “You are my compact companion, after all,” you teased.

Wednesday rolled her eyes at comment; it felt like it was a lifetime again when she would call you that, and now you turned it against her. She had to agree with you, it was an awful nickname.

“All the pretty stars shine for you, my love,” you said after a couple of minutes had passed. “it’s from a song,” you added to clear up any confusion that might have been stirred.

Wednesday looked over at you, but you still had your eyes fixed on the sky, but she noticed how your hand slowly inched toward her own, and she picked up on the double meaning as she placed her palm over the back of your hand. She gave your hand three gentle squeezes before returning inside with her cello.

After that night, you two continued with your rivalry, of course, but something had changed that worried Wednesday. She didn’t know what that change was, but she felt it like a gentle shift in the air before a big storm; she knew something had changed between you two, but she didn’t know what.

On Tuesday of the following week, Nevermore was hosting an archery tournament that lasted all day that you and Wednesday were competing in. As the day dragged out, numerous Nevermore students were booted from the competition, and when it came down to the final two competitors, no one was surprised when they saw you line up next to Wednesday.

“I think I’ve seen this film before,” you said as you grabbed an arrow and notched it before slightly pulling back on the string. The memories of your last archery competition came flooding back as you watched the beautiful girl to the left of you grab an arrow.

“And I didn’t like the ending,” Wednesday finished as she notched her arrow, drew, and let it loose, nailing the target's bullseye. You scoffed at her words before drawing back your arrow and firing, hitting the bullseye a few centimeters away from Wednesday’s.

As the contest continued, you and Wednesday engaged in a back-and-forth display of remarkable archery skills. Each shot was precise, and the competition grew fiercer with every arrow released. The crowd of students that had formed around you two was captivated, witnessing a display of talent that would mold the archery competitions of Nevermore for ages.

As the final round approached, you and Wednesday were neck and neck. The tension was palpable, and the spectators held their breath in anticipation. You looked over your left shoulder at Wednesday as you notched and drew your arrow. The smaller girl’s eyes stared into your covered ones, and you saw the way her eyes danced across your face as if she was trying to place a curse on you.

With a shaky breath, you turned away from Wednesday and looked at your target before you slightly lowered the tip of your bow; it was so unnoticeable that no one picked up on it besides the girl who was soul bound to you.

You let the arrow loose and smiled slightly when you saw it hit the outer ring. Wednesday sent you a slight glance before drawing back on her arrow and letting it fly, nailing it right in the center of the bullseye.

The crowd around them let out a few cheers and applause as Weems got the trophies ready. “I knew you could do it, roomie!” Enid exclaimed as she skipped over to Wednesday and gently shook the girl’s shoulders. Wednesday nodded her head at Enid before she walked onto the makeshift sports pedestal podium for first and second. She stepped onto the stage for first and watched as you stood on the one for second, and you sent her a smile that confirmed everything she needed: you threw the match for her.

When Weems handed you two your trophies, you had a giant smile as people took your picture, while Wednesday bore an uncomfortable expression.

“I appear to be the victor,” Wednesday said as you two walked back to Ophelia Hall together. The sun was just setting, and the light seeped into the hallway, creating a romantic lighting that seemed a bit on the nose for you.

“It appears so,” you replied with a gentle smile as you flipped your trophy around and read the words “2nd place winner” underneath your name.

Wednesday scoffed at your comment before glaring up at your towering figure. “You aren’t going to finish the saying?”

You tapped your pointer finger on your chin, acting as if you were thinking profoundly. “Why would I? You didn’t cheat,” you said honestly and dropped your hand back down to your side.

“No, but you threw the match,” Wednesday said as she approached her door with you a few paces behind her. She wanted nothing more than to bring you inside and cherish you, but she would never stoop to her mother’s way of life.

“If I am capable of such an outlandish thing, I’m sure I would not do that just so you-of all people-could win,” you said with a serious tone but your smile told Wednesday you were joking and it made her cold, black heart ache for something for had felt once and only with you.

Deciding against her better judgment, Wednesday set her trophy on the ground, and before you had time to ask her what she was doing, her left hand gently grabbed your neck and pulled down as she stood on her tippy-toes to place a chaste kiss on your cheek. Your entire body heated up at the contact, and a smile overtook your face. The kiss lasted longer than it should have, as Wednesday’s lips lingered on your cheek as if she was making you a promise that she would one day taste your lips.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Wednesday said as she picked up her trophy and entered her room, closing the door on your shell-shocked expression. You had butterflies dancing in your stomach as you walked back to your room with a gentle smile on your face and went to sleep with the thought of Wednesday’s lips against your skin. As you drifted off to sleep, Wednesday stayed up all night writing out the way you made her stomach feel like a thousand spiders lived there and the way your hair warmed her black heart. She once vowed to push you away to avoid the pain of losing you, but every waking moment she spent without you had caused her to feel that pain tenfold. Even if she would lose you at the end of your lives, at least she would have had the honor of calling you hers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The eerie gothic ballroom was cloaked in darkness, dimly lit by flickering candlelight that cast haunting shadows upon the ancient stone walls. Heavy velvet drapes, tinged with a rich deep crimson, adorned the tall arched windows, adding a sense of mystery and opulence. Gothic-style chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings, their twisted metal work resembling gnarled branches, and their candelabras emitting a spectral glow. The air is filled with a subtle scent of incense, adding to the mysterious ambiance of the room as Wednesday prepared to entire the ballroom.

It was the Grimoire Soiree, Nevermore’s official gothic ball, that was hosted at the end of the Fall semester every year. Wednesday was naturally intrigued when she heard of a gothic ball and believed attending one might add a new element to her novel, including murder. Still, now, as she watched her peers walk into the ballroom, she felt out of place. Her heart yearned for the one who wouldn’t be attending.

It had been several months since the archery contest, and you and Wednesday had not talked to each other. Neither of you knew what to say, but you both wanted to say everything. You two continued with your rivalry, but there was a shift in the air when you two competed against each other, like you two were silently rooting for the other, and it gnawed at both of your hearts.

Deciding to face the music and the calling of her heart, Wednesday walked down the stairs and entered the room.

The polished black marble floors, etched with intricate patterns, mirror the gloomy setting as if reflecting the dark secrets concealed within the ballroom's history that enticed Wednesday. Elaborate gargoyles and stone statues of long-forgotten figures stood sentinel in the corners, their solemn expressions lending an air of solemnity to the space. Crimson roses, tinged with black, were carefully arranged in vases throughout the room, their haunting beauty contrasting with the darkness surrounding them.

As the haunting melody of a haunting organ filled the air, the students of Nevermore were clad in elaborate gothic attire and moved with an aura of elegance and enigma. The atmosphere was both haunting and enchanting, transporting the attendees to a realm of forgotten tales and otherworldly delights that overwhelmed Wednesday. Just as she was about to leave, an overly happy voice exclaimed, “Wednesday! You look amazing!”

The smaller girl wore a mesmerizing black gothic ball gown that is a sight of dark enchantment, featuring a flowing skirt that gracefully grazes the ground. Small black accents on the skirt add a touch of intricate detailing, enhancing its allure. The black corset, elegantly laced in the front, complements the gown's bewitching aesthetic and leads to long, puffy sleeves that exude an air of Victorian charm.

A small cutout on the chest, just above the corset, added a daring yet sophisticated touch, leaving a hint of mystery while maintaining an elegant appeal. The gown encapsulated a perfect blend of gothic elegance and captivating allure, making it an ideal choice for Wednesday's hauntingly beautiful ballroom event.

Wednesday turned around, and she noticed that her flamboyant roommate, who usually wore bright, borderline blinding colors, was in a darker-colored ball gown. The ball gown itself was a mesmerizing creation, enveloped in an enchanting dark purple hue that exudes an air of mystery and sophistication. It had a black corset adorned with dark purple accents that added an element of striking contrast, enhancing its captivating allure. Its intricate lacework and velvet accents add an extra layer of elegance. At the same time, its flowing silhouette gracefully captures the essence of gothic charm, something that Wednesday had never seen on Enid before.

The gown caught Wednesday off guard, and she believed that Enid somehow pulled it off, highlighting her piercing blue eyes that would blind anyone. Wednesday might have even given Enid some form of a compliment, but she knew that Enid didn’t need that kind of ego inflation.

“I appreciate your words, Enid. And you,” Wednesday wanted to be nice tonight but struggled with the words, “Do not look ridiculous.”

The werewolf beamed at her roommate's words, and a smile formed from cheek to cheek. “Awww! Thank you, Wens!” Enid said as she turned to walk toward Ajax but then suddenly turned back to Wednesday as if she had forgotten something. “Oh, and your lover was looking for you earlier; she said she has something to tell you.” And with that, Enid disappeared into the crowd of dancing students with Ajax. Wednesday’s cold heart picked up at the mention of you wanting to talk to her and beat rapidly against her chest. Her eyes scanned the room for you as an all too familiar saxophone interrupted the organ.

As if it was magic, Wednesday’s dark eyes immediately found your heterochromia ones in the vast sea of swirling gowns and powdered faces. You were standing on the opposite side of the room, wearing a gothic suit that consisted of a slightly ruffled white shirt, adding a touch of romanticism to the ensemble. Over the shirt, there was a black cavalier vest adorned with mesmerizing purple tapestry, creating a captivating contrast of colors and textures. Completing the look was a sleek black jacket, lending an air of sophistication and dark allure. The suit is further enhanced by a small yet elegant collar chain featuring a black scorpion on both collars, adding a subtle yet distinctive element of gothic charm to the overall attire.

Put on your Bobbi-sox baby

Pull up your old blue jeans

There’s a band playin’ down at the armory

Know’s what rock and roll really means

You two gravitated towards each other at a slow pace before picking up as your hearts quickened with excitement, and soon, you two were standing face to face. “Hi,” you said breathlessly as you got lost in Wednesday’s eyes.

“Hi,” she replied as she looked into your beautiful eyes for the first time in seven years. She had forgotten just how beautiful they were; the green eye seemed to dance with the room's lighting while the gray one gave Wednesday a feeling of comfort, the dark color reminding her of her own material home in New Jersey.

I want to bop with you baby, all night long

I want to bop the night away

I want to make it a night like it used to be

“May I have this dance?” You asked as you slowly started to do ‘The Twist’ from Pulp Fiction. Wednesday smiled and began doing Uma Thurman’s part of the dance as if you two were just six years old again and dancing in Wednesday’s room. You two smiled and joked the entire dance and felt the whole room disappear as the song drew to a close. “Shall we dance again, my fair lady?” You asked when the dance was finished as you stuck out your hand and slightly bowed, just as you did ten years ago.

“You’re exhausting,” Wednesday replied when the room began waltzing to the beautiful melody of ‘Merry-Go-Round of Life,’ but she took your hand. You placed your free hand just underneath her shoulder blade as her spare hand rested upon the shoulder of the arm that was under her shoulder blade. As the music played, Wednesday allowed you to lead the dance and found herself in a trance as she stared into your beautiful eyes that she missed.

“Stop staring into my soul,” you commented as you spun around with Wednesday.

She huffed at your words and playfully stepped on your foot before continuing the dance. “I’m not staring into your soul; I am just admiring your breathtaking eyes,” she confessed honestly while you two continued your fluid movements. “Why did you start covering them again?”

You tensed up at her words but continued with the graceful dance. “The only person who found beauty in them was gone,” you said shyly as you gave Wednesday a tight-lipped smile. The smaller girl frowned at your words; she didn’t know what to say without confessing her undying love for you. So she stayed quiet and let her eyes drift over to the scar on your face and let regret and pain wash over her like waves on the shoreline. “I never meant to hurt you,” Wednesday mumbled out as she let the pain show on her face. You were her best friend, her soulmate, and her home, and even though she didn’t know that it was either you or no one when she was just a child, she now wanted to wrap you in her arms and never let anything or anyone harm you again; even if that meant protecting you from herself.

So, she dropped your hand while dancing and left you out there standing. Crestfallen on the landing as Wednesday left you in the ballroom and disappeared outside.

You snapped out of your disappointed state and were quick on her heels as you followed her outside. “Wednesday, what’s wrong?” You asked as you followed her to a water fountain and watched her sit down on the side.

She was sick to her stomach; she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears as she had an internal battle with her heart and brain. Her brain told Wednesday to run in the opposite direction, never to talk to you again. But her heart was telling her to run toward you, to embrace you with her loving heart that seemed to only beat for you. She felt nauseous as her thoughts bounced around; what if you didn’t feel the same way toward her? The last time you two were friendly with each other was almost eleven years ago when you guys were six. What if by showing you this much softer side of her, you reject her and use her weakness as a spear to her chest? Nearly killing her but leaving her alive just enough to continue living a life of nothingness. Your heart was glass, and she dropped it.

But what if you felt the same? What if your heart only beat for her, and you would rather die than not have been able to call her yours? All the moments you two spent at each other’s throats during competitions as you sent her little glances and silently prayed she would win so that you could see her eyes light up.

“Enid said you had something to say to me, Y/N,” Wednesday finally spoke as her thoughts ran rapidly in her mind. She needed to know what you wanted to say to her; she could not die in peace without knowing.

You stared at the alluring girl who refused to meet your eyes. There were thousands of things you wanted to tell her, but you didn’t know how. “Wednesday, there’s things I wanna say to you, but I’ll just let you live,” you said quietly as Wednesday’s eyes finally met yours. Wednesday dryly laughed at your words as her eyes glossed over with tears. The last time she had cried was because she lost you, and now, she was crying because she had finally found you. All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation, was killing her. Wednesday’s hands were shaking from holding back from you. When you said her name, everything just stopped; she didn’t want you like a best friend.

Wednesday’s eyes darted across your face, looking for anything resembling rejection. When she found only love and longing in your ocean eyes, she took in a deep breath and spoke in a broken voice, “I used to look at you and see my best friend, and now I can hardly look at you without picturing our bones resting together in a grave dug for two. I left you in there because I cannot live without knowing if it meant more to you too as well. I would rather die than bear these feelings alone.”

The words that left Wednesday’s lips took you off guard; you had a speech, and now you’re speechless. “What do you mean by that, Wednesday? Are you telling me that you have feelings for me?” You asked with disbelief on your face; you needed to know if she was confessing her love for you, but you weren’t quite sure if that’s what she meant.

“The sun rises and sets with your smile. At least it does for me. You’re the only thing on this planet worth worshipping. In simpler terms: I want you. I’ve always wanted you. It just took me ten years to realize it. I’m your jazz singer, and you’re my cult leader,” Wednesday confessed as she stared into your eyes, already accepting rejection.

“Wednesday, you don’t have to bear those feelings alone,” you stated with a sigh of relief. Wednesday’s eyes smiled for her as she pushed herself off the fountain, and slowly walked toward you. She stopped a few feet in front, giving you space to run away if you desired.

“I once had someone tell me I was destined to be alone, but I would like to be alone with you. If I’m enough - if you want me, if you’ll have me - I’m yours, only yours, Y/N,” Wednesday admitted with a silent prayer.

“Wednesday, I have only wanted you since we were kids. I only wanted you as a best friend then, but now, when I look at you, I only see my other half. I would rather die than not be able to call you mine, even if it’s just for a second.”

Slowly, Wednesday stepped to you until you were close enough to touch, begging you to make the first move she has always been afraid to take. “For the past ten years, I have been trying to form a way to apologize for the way I treated you, but every time I come up with something, I only see you in that hospital bed,” Wednesday admitted.

You gently reached out to Wednesday’s hand and brought it to your cheek. You gave a small kiss on the palm of her hand before moving it to cup your cheek as your free hand wiped away the lone tear that fell down Wednesday’s cheek. “I forgive you, Wednesday. I had forgiven you the moment I moved; I thought I would never see you again,” you whispered with tears in your eyes as you brought your forehead against Wednesday’s.

Wednesday sighed in relief as she brought up her other hand and cupped your cheeks. You pulled back from her, and Wednesday wanted to cry. You placed a kiss on her forehead that felt like a promise, then kissed her nose, silently telling her everything will be alright, another on her cheek that felt like you would wait however long for her, and finally, you kissed her lips with so much love Wednesday almost died. She let a small, choked-up gasp escape her lips before gently kissing you back. For the first time in ten years, you both finally felt at home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A blanket of snow fell upon the Addams’ residence that coated the peaceful house as Morticia Addams shot up in bed. She gasped for breath as her eyes panicky shot around the room.

The action woke Gomez up, and he reached over to the bedside table to turn on the lamp before reaching out to his wife. “Cara mia, what’s wrong?” He asked with worry laced in his voice, but his worry faded when he saw a giant smile plastered on Morticia’s face that accompanied the tears of joy in her eyes.

She wrapped her arms around her husband and pulled him against her, in complete disbelief at the vision she just had of her daughter. She pulled back from the embrace before exclaiming, “Our darling viper has found someone to share her grave with!”

Gomez lit up with excitement at the mention of Wednesday having a lover; words could not express his joy when his daughter finally fell to the Addams Family Curse. “My love, this is dreadful news! I cannot wait to meet them,” he said with a smile on his face.

Morticia laughed at her husband's words before placing a hand on his cheek and stroking it with her thumb. “Don’t worry, Gomez. You have known her since she was a child.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AN: if you recognized ‘the sun rises and sets with your smile’ quote, I love you so much 🫶

[bradshawsbaby]

Love in the Air

Pairing: Rooster x Female Reader

Summary: You weren't expecting anything interesting or exciting to happen on your flight from Virginia to San Diego. But what happens when you decide to shoot your shot with the handsome stranger sitting in front of you on the plane?

Word Count: 12.5k

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to my dear friend, @ryebecca for giving me the idea for this one! I've been mulling it over in my brain for a while now, and the super adorable Netflix movie Love at First Sight gave me some much-needed inspiration to finally see it through to completion. This story exists outside of the Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw Universe, which is sort of a first for me, so I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Travel anxiety, some very mild angst, discussions of parental death, brief language, lots of fluff.

If you had to rank your preferred modes of transportation, flying would probably be at the bottom of the list, beat only perhaps by public bus or bicycle. It seemed that no matter how hard you tried to make it as smooth and easy a journey as possible, your experiences at the airport always turned into one catastrophe after another.

Your flight this morning was supposed to take off at 9:30am, which meant that you had scheduled the start of your day to ensure that you would be at the airport no later than 7:15, accounting for traffic and long lines at check-in and security. That, of course, meant that you had to leave your best friend, Katie’s house in Fredericksburg at 5:45 on the dot in order to make the sixty-one mile trip to Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport, and that was being generous. If the two of you stopped for coffee—which Katie insisted was a must—that alone had the potential to derail your plans, which had you nervously fiddling with the bracelet you never took off, the one your dad had given you as a gift for your high school graduation.

“Relax,” Katie laughed, taking her eyes off the road for only a moment to reach out and squeeze your hands reassuringly, halting your anxious movements. “You’re going to get there with plenty of time to spare. There’s literally no one on earth who’s a more responsible flier than you. Have you ever even come close to missing a flight?”

“No,” you admitted sheepishly, taking a small sip of your hazelnut iced coffee. It did little to calm your nerves, but it was one of the best iced coffees you’d ever tasted.

“Of course you haven’t,” Katie smiled, her eyes back in front of her as she signaled to merge into another lane. “So just take a deep breath and enjoy all this gorgeous fall foliage. I’m going to get you there without incident, I promise.”

Katie knew better than pretty much anyone how much flying tended to stress you out. The two of you had been attached at the hip since the first day of kindergarten. Your friendship had survived all the ups and down of adolescence, boy drama, the separation of going to colleges hundreds of miles apart, heartache, loss, and so much more. She was truly the sister you never had, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have her in your life. Even now that you were living in San Diego, and Katie and her husband had moved to Fredericksburg, Virginia for Josh’s job, nothing could keep the two of you apart.

Using a little bit of the vacation time you’d accumulated at work, you’d taken a long weekend to fly out and surprise Katie for her and Josh’s housewarming party. It had been months since you had seen your best friend in person, and the two of you had spent the past few days acting like a couple of high schoolers, staying up all night eating junk food and keeping poor Josh awake with your loud and hysterical fits of laughter.

You hadn’t realized just how lonely you’d been, all by yourself in San Diego, until you’d witnessed up close how cozy and happy Katie’s life in Virginia was.

It wasn’t that you were jealous of Katie, not by any means. She and Josh had met in college, and you were thrilled that your best friend in the whole world had found her person, the one who was going to be there to hold her hand through life and love her through every up and every down. You had even shed a few happy tears when Katie had confided in you this past weekend that she and Josh were finally trying for a baby.

You weren’t jealous, but you desperately longed for what she had. While Katie and Josh had been happily in love since sophomore year, your love life had been decidedly marked by one failed relationship after another. The most painful of which had been your last boyfriend, Andrew. That breakup had been what had propelled you to accept the job offer that had taken you to San Diego almost a year ago.

“Screw Andrew!” Katie had told you as she’d helped you pack up your entire life into a few suitcases and boxes. “You’re headed to the Hottie Capital of America!”

“I must have missed that moniker on the travel brochures,” you responded dryly, although it was the first time you’d felt the urge to laugh in weeks.

“Um, hello, missy. It’s literally called ‘Fightertown USA,’” Katie said, stopping what she was doing to turn and face you, hands on her hips. “You’re going to end up with some sexy fighter pilot, and I am literally going to wither away with envy,” she giggled, winking at you.

“Yeah, right,” you smiled despite yourself, nudging her playfully.

“It’s true,” Katie sighed, feigning dramatics as she draped a hand across her forehead and swooned onto your bed. “I can see it now. You’re going to make the cutest little Marine or Navy wife.”

And yet, for all of Katie’s confidence, there you were, a whole year later, just as single as you had been when you’d first arrived in Fightertown.

It wasn’t to say you were completely on your own. You’d made some really good friends at work, and you got along with all of your neighbors. You’d even gone on a few dates with some guys from North Island. But none that ever went anywhere.

Spending the weekend with Katie and Josh, being reminded of just how in love the two of them were, made you wonder if it was ever going to be your turn.

“You okay?” Katie asked, breaking your silent reverie as she took the exit leading towards the airport in Charlottesville. It wasn’t necessarily the closest airport, but it was the only one for today that offered the flight you needed to get back home. “You seem so quiet.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you nodded distractedly, smiling as you took another sip of your iced coffee. “Just a little tired, I guess.”

How could you possibly tell your best friend that seeing her happiness caused an ache inside your chest that hurt like nothing else you’d ever known? You couldn’t. It made you feel guilty enough just to admit it to yourself.

“Feeling a little nervous about your flight?” she pressed, reaching for her own iced coffee as the car came to a halt at a red light. “I know it’s long, and you hate connecting flights, but I stuck some Benadryl packets in your bag, if that helps at all. It sucks that you have such a hard time sleeping on planes.”

Smiling, you leaned over and pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek. What had you ever done to deserve such a good friend? And there you were, lamenting about all the things she had that you didn’t.

“You’re the best,” you told her sincerely, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. “I’m so glad I was able to get down here this weekend.”

Katie beamed brightly, reaching up to squeeze your hand before placing hers back on the steering wheel. “You’re telling me. It was the best surprise ever. I’m just sad I can’t keep you here longer.”

“I’ll be back soon,” you promised, trying to mentally calculate when you might be able to get time off from work again.

“Maybe you can come down for Christmas this year?” Katie suggested hopefully, glancing over at you with her big green eyes.

“Maybe,” you nodded, twisting your bracelet once more as you saw the signs for the airport approaching. “Or maybe I can fly you and Josh out to San Diego.”

“Oh, yes! Christmas on the beach? Sounds perfect,” Katie grinned, looking out for the sign for departing flights.

All too soon, Katie was pulling up in front of the Delta terminal where your flight would be taking off in just a few hours.

“See? Only 7:11! I got you here ahead of your insane schedule, even with the stop for coffee,” your best friend teased, a twinkle in her eye as she indicated the time on the dashboard.

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, laughing out loud as she swatted your hand jokingly.

The two of you climbed out of the car to grab your luggage from the trunk. You’d done your best to pack lightly, which was never an easy task for you, even just for a weekend trip. But somehow, you’d managed to squeeze everything you needed into a carry-on bag. Well, that and a giant duffel that you were claiming was a purse.

“Ugh, goodbyes make me crazy,” Katie shook her head, clearly trying to hide the tears that were brimming in her eyes, which caused tears to spring to your eyes as the two of you reached for each other.

“I love you so much,” you told her, squeezing her tightly as she rocked you back and forth in her arms. “I’ll call you when I land.”

“Text me when you get to your gate,” she said, pulling back and taking your hands in hers. “And let me know if there are any cuties on your flight,” she added with a grin, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“I doubt I’m going to bag any cuties looking like this,” you countered sarcastically, indicating the yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt you’d donned that morning, as well as the messy bun you’d thrown your hair into.

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous no matter what,” Katie scolded you, swatting you on the butt. “Now get going. We wouldn’t want you being late or anything like that,” she joked.

You laughed as well, though your heart ached a bit as you grabbed the handle of your suitcase and began turning towards the doors of the terminal.

“Love you! Talk to you soon!” Katie called out, waving and blowing kisses.

You threw one more wave your best friend’s way, then disappeared inside the terminal, which was already fairly crowded despite the early hour.

As expected, despite the fact that you’d taken pains to get there early and make sure you were on top of everything, the unlucky cloud that seemed to follow you whenever you flew made its appearance once again.

You of course ended up on the slowest moving line at security, only to be heavily questioned by the TSA agent who seemed to be under the impression that you looked nothing like the photo on your driver’s license. Then, when you finally got to the security scanners, you set off the metal detector and had to be publicly groped by another sour-faced TSA agent. As if that wasn’t bad enough, your suitcase was “randomly selected” for extra testing and security checks.

Katie may have loved to tease you about it, but this was precisely the reason why you always left as early as you did to get to the airport.

By the time you were finally rolling your suitcase towards your gate, you were feeling more frazzled than ever. Naturally, the gate had changed since your boarding pass had been printed, and now you had to trek halfway across the airport to find the new one.

You wondered what it felt like to be one of those lucky travelers whose gate was right at the center of the terminal, right near all the restaurants and shops. It had never been you. Without fail, no matter where or when you were flying, your gate always ended up being at the farthest corner of the terminal.

When you finally arrived, triple checking that the gate number matched your flight information, you let out a heavy sigh as you grabbed an open seat at the end of the row. To your surprise, you found that you were seated right next to an open outlet. You never got that lucky.

Turns out, you really did never get that lucky. When you plugged your phone in, you found that it wasn’t charging. Evidently, the outlet was open because it didn’t actually work.

Muttering under your breath, you unplugged your charger and threw it back into your duffel bag. At least your phone was still on 74%. You’d much prefer to have it fully charged, but this would do until you could charge it on the plane.

Glancing down, you realized that you had missed a text from Katie.

At the gate yet???

Rolling your shoulders back and getting more comfortable in your seat, you opened up the message so that you could send a quick response.

Just got here. You’d think I was on the No Fly List with how long it took me to get here.

Katie must have made good time getting home, because it wasn’t long before your phone was buzzing with another text.

😂😂😂 Get yourself a drink!

Katie, it’s not even 9am…

So? A mimosa then!

You laughed, shaking your head. A mimosa didn’t actually sound like such a bad idea right now. Neither did a large iced coffee. But now that you’d finally made it to your gate, you didn’t feel like dragging all your stuff with you across the terminal once again. And you didn’t feel comfortable leaving your things behind, unattended or even in the care of a stranger. Maybe you’d just order one on the plane.

When your phone buzzed again in your lap, you looked down and saw that it was another text from Katie.

Any cuties to share that mimosa with???

You were about to text her back that right now, the only cuties you could see were an adorable four-year-old and an elderly couple who must have been in their eighties when suddenly, the most gorgeous man you had ever seen in your life appeared, as if out of thin air. You were suddenly glad you didn’t have a mimosa or an iced coffee in hand, for you were certain that you would have spit it out in shock upon seeing this guy.

Jaw hanging open and eyes widening, your brain was too fuzzy from lack of sleep to remind you that it was wholly inappropriate and rude to stare.

He truly had to be the hottest man you had ever seen up close in real life. Tall, with broad, thick shoulders and a muscular build. His hair was a golden brown that looked like it was touched frequently by the sun—as did his skin, which was an amusing combination of both tan and pink, as though he should have applied just a pinch more sunscreen than he had. Most surprising of all was the mustache that made your stomach do a strange little flip. You usually weren’t all that attracted to facial hair of any sort, and most guys couldn’t pull off the mustaches they tried to sport, but this particular mustache was the sexiest thing you had ever seen. And somehow, despite not knowing this man from a hole in the wall, you couldn’t imagine him without it. It was like it was a part of his DNA.

Thankfully, he was still staring down at his boarding pass, so he hadn’t noticed your intense scrutiny. Coming to your senses, you closed your mouth and quickly averted your gaze, your cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. How mortifying. Imagine if he had looked over and caught you staring at him, gaping like a fish out of water?

Still, despite your self-consciousness at the thought of getting caught, you couldn’t help but steal another glance in his direction, this time out of the corner of your eye. He looked even taller this time around. It probably had something to do with the way he carried himself, an easy confidence pouring off him. This man knew he was hot stuff, of that you were sure. But there was also something unassuming about him, something quiet and almost humble. He was dressed in a pair of dark sweatpants and an old UVA T-shirt, nothing fancy or flashy. Somehow, however, he managed to pull it off even better than a three-piece suit.

You were startled out of your observations when your phone buzzed again. It was Katie, emphasizing her last message impatiently.

Do you have some kind of magic powers that I was unaware of to make hotties appear out of nowhere? Right when you texted me, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen walked up to my gate.

‼️‼️ GO TALK TO HIM!!! ‼️‼️

At the mere suggestion of going to talk to that guy, your stomach erupted into butterflies. Looking up once again, you saw that he had evidently confirmed he was at the right gate, and had settled down in a seat a couple rows over, facing away from you. God, even the back of his head was handsome.

Are you crazy? This guy is seriously the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I look like a homeless lady that wandered in off the street. I am NOT talking to him!

Your phone buzzed angrily a moment later.

Will you shut up before I drive back there to hit you upside the head?! YOU are gorgeous!!! Who cares if you have no make-up on and your hair’s in a messy bun? It’s called airplane chic! You’re still completely stunning. He would be LUCKY to have a girl as hot as you want to talk to him!

Chewing your bottom lip, you looked up again, trying not to be obvious as your eyes slowly wandered over the people at your gate, until they landed on him once more. He was on the phone this time, having an animated conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line. Occasionally, he would turn slightly in your direction and you could catch a glimpse of his side profile.

Damn, this man was seriously perfect from every angle.

“Alright, Mav, I’ll see you when I land,” you heard him say—not that you were trying to eavesdrop—before he hung up the phone and dropped it back onto his lap.

It was then that you noticed his phone was plugged into the outlet next to his seat.

Maybe this could be your opportunity? You could casually walk over and see if there were any other open outlets near his. Perhaps you could even make a joke about how it was just your luck that the outlet near your seat wasn’t working. Maybe he’d laugh and tell you some horror story from his travel experiences and the two of you would end up talking until you exchanged numbers. Maybe there was some tiny, infinitesimal chance that this stunning man would actually be charmed by you and possibly even the teensiest bit interested.

Or maybe you would just remain rooted to your seat, terrified to move as you stared at the back of his head.

You were already anticipating the text from Katie when your phone buzzed once again.

The reason you’re not answering me better be because you’re in the middle of a conversation with Mr. Hottie from your gate!!!

Biting down on your lip, you turned your phone over, not knowing how to tell your best friend that you were too much of a chicken to get out of your seat and approach this guy.

At that moment, however, you were suddenly saved, at least somewhat, when a member of the flight crew announced that they were about to begin boarding. Forgetting about Katie’s texts and the hot guy sitting several feet away from you for a moment, you began gathering together all your belongings, making sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.

When your boarding group was called, you did one final sweep around your seat, securing the strap of your duffel bag up on your shoulder and wrapping one hand around the handle of your carry-on before making your way to the line extending from the counter.

As you stepped up behind the elderly couple you’d noticed earlier, your boarding pass slipped out of your hand, floating through the air despite your best attempt to reach for it, and landing somewhere behind you.

Turning to find it, you nearly collided with the tall wall of man behind you, who was bending at the same time to grab it off the floor.

“Oh!” you gasped, startled to find that Mr. Hottie, as Katie had dubbed him, was not only standing behind you in line, but was also holding your boarding pass in his hand, glancing down at it.

“San Diego with a layover in Atlanta, huh?” he grinned, glancing from the boarding pass up to your face. Unsurprisingly, he had a beautiful set of whiskey-colored eyes that made your stomach do the same strange little flip that his mustache had induced. Oh, and up close, the mustache was even sexier.

“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded dumbly, your tongue suddenly feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds as your brain short-circuited and couldn’t come up with a single worthwhile thing to say.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one,” Mr. Hottie went on, holding your boarding pass out to you. “Looks like we’ve got a long day of flying ahead of us.”

Mouth hanging open, you slowly reached out and took the boarding pass from him, trying frantically to think of something—anything—to say. He was flying to San Diego, too? You were on the same exact flight? Including the same layover?

“I—I—”

“Hey, the line's moving!” someone from the back called out, sounding annoyed.

Turning back over your shoulder, you were mortified to see that the elderly couple in front of you had disappeared and you were, in fact, holding up the line.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” you mumbled, ducking your head as you clutched your boarding pass and reached out for your carry-on. “Thanks again for grabbing this for me,” you told Mr. Hottie, waving your boarding pass slightly before turning and practically running towards the counter.

With his long stride, he caught up to you in no time, his smile friendly and warm as the two of you joined the line of people waiting to board the airplane.

“You weren’t holding anyone up,” he whispered down to you, as if it was some special secret the two of you were sharing. “I don’t know what that guy was in such a rush for. To move from that line to this one? We’re all getting out of here at the same time.”

You smiled at his words, feeling comforted by his reassurance. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Some people are just always in a hurry.”

The two of you were quiet after that, and you wondered if that would be the end of the conversation. You were casting around for anything else you could talk about when he suddenly asked you, “So are you leaving home or heading home?”

Your heart fluttered at his question. If he didn’t want to keep talking, he wouldn’t have asked that, right?

“Heading home,” you told him, fiddling shyly with your bracelet. You laughed softly. “It’s still kind of weird saying that. I’ve only been in San Diego for about eleven months.”

He raised his eyebrow, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Yeah? Well, I know I’m a little late, but welcome to Fightertown. I hope it’s been treating you well.”

“Oh, it has been,” you nodded, making sure to pay attention to when the people in front of you began moving forward. “I take it you’re heading home then, too?”

“I am,” he grinned, shouldering the backpack he was carrying with him. “Well, actually, I’m kind of leaving home and heading home,” he amended. At your curious look, he explained, “I’m from Virginia originally, but I live in San Diego now. I guess you could say I’m a transplant, just like you,” he added with a chuckle. “Are you from Virginia, too?”

“New York, actually,” you told him, as the two of you followed the flow of people towards the plane. “But my best friend and her husband moved to Fredericksburg recently, so I was spending the weekend with them.”

“Ah, that’s a nice area,” he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at you with a smile. At your unspoken question, he said, “I was actually down for a reunion weekend at my school. I went to UVA.”

“I gathered,” you replied teasingly, indicating his T-shirt.

Glancing downward, he shook his head and laughed. “Almost forgot I threw this on when I woke up. Trying to get to the airport on time is a real pain, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” you agreed with a laugh, adjusting your hold on your duffel bag. “Flying is definitely one of my least favorite modes of transportation.”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I’d say that,” he said in reply, an amused look on his face.

Before you could ask him what was so funny, however, you were being welcomed aboard the plane by the stewardesses, who were all smiling and indicating that they expected you to keep moving down the aisle.

Your heart dropped slightly at the abrupt end to your conversation. Now the two of you were going to go to your separate seats, and he’d probably forget all about you. It was one thing to make idle conversation with a stranger while on line, but you doubted he had any real interest in continuing the conversation beyond that.

Sighing softly, you rolled your suitcase down the aisle, pausing every now and then as the people in front of you put their bags in the overhead bins and got themselves sorted. When you finally reached Row 22, you stopped and looked back at Mr. Hottie with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, this is me. I’ll just be a minute,” you told him, pushing down the handle of your carry-on.

“No worries, this is me,” he grinned, indicating Row 21. “I even snagged the window seat,” he added with a wink.

Your mouth went dry. He had the window seat of Row 21. You had the window seat of Row 22. He was sitting directly in front of you.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, reaching for your carry-on bag and easily hefting it above his head, sliding it into the overhead bin for you. “Do you need me to put this one up there, too?” he asked, pointing towards your duffel bag.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” you shook your head, holding onto the strap of your bag. “I’m going to keep this one with me. Thanks a lot,” you smiled, not even noticing the line of disgruntled people that was beginning to form behind the two of you.

“No problem,” he smiled, starting to slide into his row with his backpack still on his back. “Have a great flight.”

“You, too,” you replied, a little sadly, as you crawled into your row, doing your best to ignore the annoyed looks some people were throwing your way.

Needless to say, it was just your luck that the impatient man from the boarding line ended up sitting right beside you. You tried to smile at him, but he just grunted and put his headphones on, completely ignoring you.

Fine by you. Pulling your phone out, you found that you had a whole new series of texts from Katie, demanding to know exactly what was happening.

On the plane now. We should be taking off soon. I talked a little bit to Mr. Hottie. Are you happy?

It didn’t take long at all for her to respond. You could imagine that she had been sitting by her phone, waiting eagerly for your message.

Eeeee, yes, very! What did you guys talk about? Are you sitting near each other on the plane? Did you exchange numbers??? Send me a picture!!!

You laughed softly to yourself as you tried your best to answer all the questions your excited friend had asked you.

Just small talk. He’s actually flying home to San Diego, too. He went to UVA and was there for a reunion weekend. We did not exchange numbers and I’m not going to be a creepy stalker and take a picture of him, but he actually is sitting in the seat right in front of me.

OMG, IT’S FATE!!! So he has the same layover and everything??? And he’s FROM San Diego?! Babe, this is the guy for you!!! You’ve got to keep talking to him!

How would you suggest I do that? Just tap him on the shoulder and whisper into his ear the whole time?

It’s only a couple hours to Atlanta, and then you’ll have the layover, and then another four and half hours to San Diego. You could practically be engaged by the time you land! Just slip him a little note or something. Give him your number!

Your stomach was doing somersaults at the mere thought. Between the two of you, Katie had always been the more outgoing one. She would have no problem slipping a note with her phone number on it to a complete stranger, putting herself out there for the possibility of rejection and utter humiliation. You, on the other hand, preferred to play it safe. It was much more comfortable that way. And sure, maybe you’d never met your Josh the way Katie had, but at least you’d never been hurt too badly, right?

Unbidden, you thought of Andrew and felt bile rise in your throat.

Luckily, you were saved from having to answer Katie right away when the cabin crew made the announcement that it was time to shut down all electronics. Switching your phone onto airplane mode, you slipped it into the front pocket of your duffel bag and took a deep breath, buckling your seatbelt and closing your eyes.

Takeoff was your least favorite part of any flight. When you were a little girl, your parents used to make funny faces and sing silly songs to distract you from your terror. Even now as an adult who was flying all on her own, you still tried to remember the sound of their voices as the plane began its ascent.

It didn’t take too long before you were finally cruising at 18,000 feet and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign. Since you were a Delta SkyMiles member, you got free Wi-Fi on all your flights, so you immediately reached to turn your phone back on to let Katie know you had taken off safely.

As soon as your phone connected with the Wi-Fi, it was instantly flooded with a slew of text messages. A couple were from some of your friends back in San Diego, wishing you a safe and easy flight, but most were from your crazy best friend.

Don’t think you can use being on a plane as an excuse not to answer my texts!

I know you’re a SkyMiles member and you can see these messages!

You better answer me!!!

Shaking your head, you quickly tapped out a quick message in response.

Took off safely. Thinking of watching a movie before we land in Atlanta. You’re crazy and I am not slipping him a note.

Your phone was blessedly quiet for the next several minutes, and part of you hoped that Katie had given up this ridiculous notion. Knowing her as long as you had, however, you should have figured that wouldn’t be the case.

What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t answer you? The two of you never talk again? You’ve never seen this guy before in your life, and the chances are good that you’ll never see him again after this. So if you put yourself out there and it doesn’t work out, who cares? At least you tried. And sure, it might be a little embarrassing at first, but like I said, you’ll never have to see him again. But what if you thought about it the other way around? What if it DOES work out? What if this could be the start of something great? Would you really just want to walk away, wondering what could have been and regretting that you didn’t take a chance? You deserve to be loved so, so, SO much! And I know that you have so much love to give! This guy would be lucky if you chose him. Just give it a try, will you? For me? Please! You can’t see it, but I’m giving my best puppy dog face right now. And sending you all the best vibes! You can do this! I love you! ♥️

You groaned at your best friend’s heartfelt message. How could you possibly say no to that? You knew Katie just wanted the best for you, and she wanted you to be happy. You wanted to be happy, too. What if she was right? What if this was your chance? Would you be a fool to just walk away from it without even trying? Like Katie said, at least if you tried, you could say you’d done all you could. And if it didn’t work, then Mr. Hottie just wasn’t the one for you. No harm, no foul.

You were starting to feel like you might need to make use of the vomit bag tucked securely in the seat pocket in front of you when the stewardess stopped at your row to offer you all snacks and beverages. You gratefully accepted a can of ginger ale and a packet of pretzels, nibbling on them slowly in an attempt to settle your roiling stomach.

You were being an idiot. There was no reason to be so dramatic about all this. You could write a quick note and pass it up to him, then pretend it had never happened. Seriously, what was the worst that was going to happen? He was going to get up and make an announcement over the loudspeaker that the girl sitting in 22A was a pathetic, lonely loser? You doubted that very much.

Before you could lose your nerve, you reached into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulled out the pen you always kept there. Turns out, it really did come in handy. Mercifully, the grumpy man beside you was already snoring, so you could write your note in peace without being worried about him seeing what you were doing.

Hand shaking slightly, you penned a quick letter to the handsome, charming man in 21A.

Hi there. I realized in all our talking that I never caught your name. But it might be good to know, seeing how we’re layover buddies and all. Hope you’re enjoying the flight so far.

You signed your name at the bottom, and then took a deep breath, reading over what you had written on the back of your Delta napkin. It sounded impossibly stupid, but you’d come this far and you weren’t going to turn back now. What was it that people on the internet were always saying? Something about shooting your shot?

Breathing through your nose to avoid getting sick, you reached out a trembling finger and lightly tapped the broad shoulder that you saw peeking out from the seat in front of you. You suddenly realized that he may have been asleep and panicked at the thought of waking him up, but he shifted immediately at your touch and you could tell that he was turning towards you.

Not wanting to meet his eye, you immediately thrust your napkin into the small open space between your seats and the windows, silently praying that he would take it from you instead of laughing in your face.

A second later, you felt his large fingers brush against yours as he took your little note, shifting in his seat once more so that he was facing front again.

What had you just done? Oh, God, there was still another hour left to go on this flight, then a layover, and another four and half hours to San Diego. True, you would never have to see him again after you landed in California, but that was still a lot of time left to have to be in proximity to him if all of this blew up in your face.

You were just about ready to launch yourself out of one of the emergency exits when you suddenly looked up and realized that there was a small white napkin hovering above your head.

Mr. Hottie in 21A was reaching back with your note in hand. Your stomach plummeted and your face and neck grew warm with shame at the thought of him returning the letter you’d written him, until you noticed the red ink on the back of it. 

You’d written your note in black ink.

Slowly reaching out, you took the napkin from his hand, your fingers brushing against each other once more. His were large and warm and calloused and made goosebumps rise on your arm.

Pulse beating rapidly, you turned over the napkin to see the response he had written on the back. His handwriting was a bit messy, more of a scrawl than anything, but it made you smile to look at it.

What was I thinking, not properly introducing myself to my layover buddy? Hope you can forgive me. My name is Bradley. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ve got some Wi-Fi on this flight, do you? If you do, feel free to text me. We seem to be dangerously low on napkins.

At the bottom, he’d written his cell phone number.

Pressing a hand over your mouth, it took everything in you to swallow back the squeal of delight that rose up your throat. It worked! Katie’s silly plan had actually worked! Oh, she was going to gloat about this forever when you told her.

Beaming brightly, you pulled out your cell phone. As much as you loved her, Katie could wait right now. You had an extremely gorgeous layover buddy to get in touch with.

Typing his number into your cell phone, you opened up a new message and contemplated what to say for a moment.

Layover buddies who both just so happen to have some inflight Wi-Fi? Clearly it’s meant to be.

You hoped the message came across as cute and flirty instead of desperate and weird as you hit send, anxiously waiting to see if he would reply.

It took only a moment before your phone buzzed, Bradley’s name lighting up your screen.

Layover buddies who both just so happen have some inflight Wi-Fi AND spring for the window seats? Obviously it’s meant to be!

You smiled and were about to think up a reply when another message suddenly came though.

Oh, and to answer your note—I’m enjoying the flight a lot more now.

The butterflies went crazy in your stomach as you wrote back to him.

Me, too. And that’s saying a lot, considering the four-year-old behind me hasn’t stopped kicking my seat since we boarded.

Bradley only took seconds to reply.

Oof, that’s rough. If I could switch seats with you, I would. But I have to admit that I’m very happy that you’re not kicking my seat.

Wouldn’t be too sure about that, you sent back teasingly before lightly nudging his seat with your foot.

Hey! I thought we were friends!

We’ll see 😉

You and Bradley went back and forth like that for the entire remainder of your flight to Atlanta, the banter light and easy as you teased and joked with each other. You even ended up playing a game of 20 Questions, in which you learned, among other things, that Bradley’s favorite color was red, he once broke his arm when he was seven years old, and he absolutely despised peas.

As the captain announced that you would soon begin preparing for your final descent, you shot off a quick message to Katie, who you had woefully neglected during your conversation with Bradley.

I owe you one. The pep talk and the plan actually worked—I’m texting Mr. Hottie as we speak! Update you soon. We’re about to land in Atlanta.

Just as you sent the message off to your friend, another text from Bradley arrived.

Looks like we’re going to have to turn off our phones, layover buddy. I’ll see you when we land. Food? I’m starving.

Grinning, you had to pinch yourself to check that this wasn’t some sort of elaborate dream.

Same. I’ll race you for some french fries.

You’re on.

When the plane finally landed and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign, everyone practically jumped out of their seats in a mad dash to see who could be the first to get their belongings out of the overhead bins. Since you and Bradley were in the window seats, you took your time, knowing you weren’t getting off the plane anytime soon.

You were surprised, however, when he suddenly popped his head over the back of his seat, grinning down at you. “Good thing our next flight doesn’t leave for a couple hours yet,” he said, indicating the crowd with a good-natured grin that made your heart melt.

You had almost been starting to think you’d exaggerated just how good-looking he was, but nope. He really was that hot.

“Plenty of time to grab those fries,” you laughed, smiling up at him.

When you and Bradley were finally able to step out into the aisle, he opened the bin above your head and reached for your suitcase.

“Let me take care of this for you,” he said, lowering it to the ground and lifting the handle so that he could wheel it up the aisle.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insisted, not wanting him to think that you expected him to carry your things for you.

“Hey, what are layover buddies for?” he winked, leading the way off the plane.

Once the two of you were standing face to face in the middle of the airport terminal, you began to feel a little shy and self-conscious again. It had been easy to talk to Bradley via text, but now that you were gazing up at his handsome face again, you suddenly found yourself getting just as tongue-tied as before.

Bradley seemed to sense your nerves because he smiled warmly at you, his demeanor just as open and friendly as it had been the entire time you’d known him.

“How about we hunt down those fries?” he suggested, waiting until you smiled and nodded before turning and guiding you towards the main concourse.

The two of you ended up finding a quick and easy little fast food counter, where you ordered a couple burgers, a large order of fries, and some vanilla milkshakes with whipped cream and cherries. As soon as it became clear that Bradley was going to pay for both your meals, you tried to argue and insist on paying your share, but he wouldn’t hear it.

“My mom raised a gentleman, and she would kill me if she thought I was even thinking of letting my layover buddy pay for her lunch,” he told you, winking playfully as he handed his credit card to the employee behind the counter.

You took your suitcase from Bradley as he balanced the tray with your food in his hands, leading you to an empty table towards the end of the concourse.

“Your mom must be very proud of you, I’m sure,” you grinned, reaching eagerly for a fry and popping it into your mouth. “Did you get to see her while you were in Virginia?”

Bradley smiled, though his eyes suddenly looked a little sad. “Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”

Deciding not to press the matter, you instead turned the attention to his college reunion. That led to the two of you happily swapping stories about your time in college, which landed you on the subject of what you do now.

“A naval aviator? Really? And a TOPGUN graduate? That’s very impressive,” you gushed, mentally picturing him in a flight suit. You’d gone on a couple dates with some naval aviators from North Island, but none as handsome or as charming as Bradley. You suddenly groaned and covered your face with your hand when you remembered what you’d said to him right before boarding the plane. “So that’s what you meant when I was saying that flying isn’t my favorite mode of transportation,” you murmured, feeling a little embarrassed.

Bradley threw his head back and laughed at that, looking genuinely amused. “Hey, I get it. Flying isn’t for everybody. Trust me, some days I wish I had just opted for a desk job,” he grinned, his muscles flexing as he stretched in his seat. “But there’s nothing quite like it, when you’re the one doing the flying. Maybe one day I can take you up in the air and change your mind.”

He looked across the table at you and held your gaze, and you felt sure in that moment that you would have promised him anything he asked.

“So what’s your call sign then?” you asked with a smile, resting your cheek in your hand as you looked into his eyes.

“Oh, you know about that, huh?” he chuckled, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Well, uh, they call me Rooster.”

You had a feeling he expected you to laugh—maybe other girls in the past had—but you just grinned brightly in response. “I like it,” you said simply. “It suits you.”

He let out a small breath and smiled in return. “Thank you. My dad’s call sign was Goose. So I guess it runs in the family.”

“Your dad is in the Navy, too?” you asked curiously, lifting your milkshake and taking a sip.

Bradley cleared his throat slightly, looking down at his lap. “He was. He died in a training accident at TOPGUN when I was two.”

You sucked in a breath at your own carelessness and looked across at Bradley with empathy glowing in your eyes. “Oh, Bradley,” you murmured softly, reaching out and resting a hand over his. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replied gently, a small smile on his face as he placed his other hand over yours. “But thank you.” He was quiet for a moment before he went on. “It was just me and my mom for a while, back home in Virginia. But she got sick when I was in high school, and she passed away my senior year.”

“Bradley,” you breathed out sadly, your heart breaking for him. You winced when you thought of what he’d said before, about seeing his mom while he was in Virginia.

“She and my dad are buried in my hometown, where I grew up. I go to see them at the cemetery whenever I’m back in town,” he explained, as if reading your thoughts.

“I’m sure that means a lot to them, and that they’re smiling down on you always,” you told him sincerely, squeezing his hand lightly.

He smiled up at you, the sadness in his expression lifting slightly. “I like to think so. I think they’d like you a lot,” he added, then looked away. He suddenly seemed embarrassed.

The two of you sat back, disentangling your hands as you sat in mildly awkward silence for a moment or two.

“What about your parents?” Bradley asked, clearly looking for a way to change the subject. “Do they still live in New York?”

It was your turn to look sad now. “Well, we actually have a lot in common, Bradley. Only I guess my story is sort of in reverse. My mom passed away when I was six years old. She got in a car accident on her way home from work. And my dad passed when I was a freshman in college. Lung cancer.”

“Shit,” Bradley muttered, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have known. And it feels kind of nice talking about it with someone who I know understands. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Bradley nodded, his expression serious as his dark eyes rested on your face. “Yeah, I do.”

You and Bradley sat in companionable silence as you finished your meals, then checked to see how much time you had before your connecting flight.

“I guess we should start making our way over to the gate,” you suggested, glancing at the time on your phone. You had about ten text messages from Katie, but you were too embarrassed to open them anywhere near Bradley.

Bradley nodded in agreement, wordlessly taking the handle of your suitcase and leading you back across the concourse.

“Hey, we got so distracted talking about my job that I never even asked what you do,” he suddenly realized once the two of you were seated at your gate, both your phones charging in a nearby outlet.

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair that had escaped your bun behind your ear. “Funny enough, I actually work for the Midway Museum,” you told him, glancing up at him, only to find that he was already gazing down at you.

“No way! Guess we’re both stuck aboard aircraft carriers for work then,” he chuckled. “What do you do?”

“Well, my official title is digital content specialist,” you said, biting down on your lower lip. You felt like it always sounded a bit pretentious. “Basically, I help run the museum’s digital accounts—social media, their website, email blasts, things like that. My degree is in marketing and communications, so that’s basically what I do.”

“That’s amazing,” Bradley said, and you could tell that he genuinely meant it. Some guys just pretended to be interested in your job as a pretense for trying to get into your pants, but you could tell that Bradley actually cared about what you had to say. He was actually listening. “Is that what brought you out to San Diego?”

“It is, actually. I had been applying to a few different places, and when I got word from the Midway that they were interested in hiring me, I thought that maybe it was the fresh start I needed,” you confessed.

“Has it been?” Bradley asked quietly.

“I think so,” you nodded slowly, absent-mindedly twisting your bracelet around your wrist. “It’s hard sometimes, being so far away from my best friend, Katie—the one I was visiting. She’s pretty much the only family I’ve got left. But I like the life that I’m building in San Diego.”

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it,” Bradley smiled, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he shifted in his seat. He looked like he was about to say more when the flight crew called your boarding group.

“Looks like we’re going to be sitting near each other again, 21A,” you teased, glancing down at his boarding pass as the two of you rose and grabbed your phones.

“Glad to hear it, 22A,” he joked in return, holding up his phone and waving it back and forth. “And now my phone is fully charged for our trip back to San Diego, so let the texting commence.”

Giggling, you nodded as the two of you walked down the rampway side by side and made your way onto the plane and to your seats without incident. When you got there, however, you saw that there had been some confusion with a young family that looked to have four children under the age of eight. It seemed as though their tickets had gotten split up so that they weren’t all sitting next to each other, and the mother was frantic.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Bradley asked, quickly taking stock of the situation. When the woman looked up at him, clearly stressed out and worried he was going to yell at her, he smiled comfortingly. “I was just going to say that, if you’d like, you can have my seat. I’d be happy to take yours since it looks like it’s next to my friend here anyway. That way, we can all be comfortable and sit with the people we want to sit with.”

“Oh, thank you!” the young mother exclaimed, looking ready to hug Bradley. “Thank you!”

She and her husband quickly got their children settled, thanking Bradley a few more times for good measure, while he took your carry-on and set it in the overhead bin.

Once you had settled in your window seat, Bradley took the seat beside you, grinning impishly.

“Look at that. Now we don’t even need to waste the Wi-Fi,” he murmured, nudging you playfully.

“Things just have a way of working out for us today, don’t they?” you laughed, settling your duffel bag at your feet. “I’m just going to send a quick message to Katie, to let her know I made it onto my connecting flight,” you told him, reaching for your phone and quickly opening Katie’s messages so that Bradley wouldn’t see them.

“Good idea, I should text Mav,” Bradley said, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. At your confused look, he explained, “My godfather. He’s also in the Navy, and he also just so happens to be stationed out in San Diego. He’s going to pick me up at the airport.”

Nodding, you sent a brief text to your best friend, promising you would call her as soon as you got home, then settled in for the flight and tried to get as comfortable as possible.

As soon as you felt the plane jolt to life and begin taxing towards the runway, your chest grew tight and your grip on yours and Bradley’s shared armrest started to turn your knuckles white.

“Hey,” Bradley said softly, genuine concern in his voice as he glanced over and noticed how on edge you suddenly appeared. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead on the screen in front of you, which was currently playing some Delta commercial that your brain could scarcely register.

“I think your death grip on our armrest would suggest otherwise,” he pressed gently, his tone remaining light and good-humored. “You trying to take that thing with you?”

Startled, your nervous trance was broken and you glanced down to see what Bradley was talking about. Sure enough, your nails were digging into the armrest so intensely that you wouldn’t have been surprised if they left little crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

Letting out a shaky laugh, you looked up at the man beside you ruefully. “Okay, truth be told, I get a little anxious during takeoff,” you confessed, biting your lip in embarrassment. He would probably think that was silly. He was a fighter pilot, after all. His day job involved flying multi-million dollar aircrafts for the military. And here you were, acting like a scaredy cat over a commercial Delta flight.

Bradley’s eyes crinkled in a way that you found devastatingly charming as he smiled over at you. The look on his face was kind, without a single trace of mocking humor.

“Want to know a secret?” he whispered, leaning in closer to you so that his nose was nearly pressed against your cheek and you could feel his breath on your skin. “So do I.”

“You’re kidding,” you scoffed, shooting him a skeptical look. He was probably just trying to be nice. “But you’re a naval aviator!”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one flying this plane, am I?” he retorted with a lopsided grin. “It’s hard to put the reins in someone else’s hands. So I understand being nervous. Hell, I still get a little nervous sometimes when I’m flying an F-18. Just don’t tell anyone I said that,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“Oh, of course not,” you giggled, smiling over at him. Glancing out the window, you realized that his conversation had distracted you so much, you hadn’t even noticed that the plane had finished its approach towards the runway and was officially waiting for takeoff.

Some of your nerves returned, and you gripped the armrest once more, but this time, you felt Bradley’s large, yet gentle fingers close over yours. Surprised, you turned your head sharply and instantly met his gaze. It was direct and disconcertingly open as he looked deeply into your eyes.

“It’s okay,” he assured you in a low voice, squeezing your fingers comfortingly. “We’re going to be okay.”

“My parents used to sing to me during takeoff,” you found yourself blurting out suddenly, your cheeks growing warm at the admission. “I can remember my mom doing it when I was a little girl, and my dad used to do it for me even when I was in high school,” you explained shyly, lowering your eyes to your lap.

At that moment, your stomach dropped as the plane suddenly began hurtling forward, seeking enough momentum to become airborne.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to recall the sound of your parents’ voices in order to calm your racing heart. But a new voice suddenly entered the mix as you felt your newfound flying buddy lean across the armrest, his warm body pressing against your side as he sang quietly in your ear.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain…”

Wait a second. You knew that song. Where did you know that song from?

“Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill…”

Yes, you definitely knew that song. It was on one of the records your parents used to play when you were a little girl. Was it Jerry Lee Lewis?

Gasping in recognition, you whisper-sang the next lyric in harmony with Bradley—“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

He laughed in delight when you began singing along, squeezing your hand with an affectionate grin. “And would you look at that,” he said, nodding towards the window. “We’re airborne. Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Shocked, you followed his line of vision and were taken aback to see that you were already ascending into the clouds, leaving the city of Atlanta far behind. That had been one of the smoothest takeoff experiences you’d had in—well, you couldn’t even remember how long.

“I barely even noticed!” you exclaimed, focusing your attention back on Bradley. You smiled gratefully, your heart melting at the adorable puppy dog look on his face. “Thank you, Bradley.”

You noticed at that moment that he still hadn’t let go of your hand, and your pulse began to quicken, but this time for entirely different reasons.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured in response, his voice low and suddenly husky. It did something to you, that deep, raspy voice of his. “Happy to do it.” He squeezed your hand gently once more, then slowly—almost hesitantly—let it go.

“I haven’t heard that song in the longest time,” you told him, resting back against your seat. “My parents used to listen to it.”

Bradley smiled slightly. “It’s the one song I can actually remember my dad singing. He loved to sing and play the piano. My mom had tons of home videos of him doing it. But that song—that song I can actually remember hearing him sing, you know? I was so young when he—well—I can remember that one. And that’s why it’s my favorite to sing and play.”

“You play the piano, too?” you asked, impressed. “Wow, a man of many talents.” You nudged him playfully, a big smile on your face.

“I’ll have to show you what I can do,” Bradley replied, winking.

Your stomach fluttered at the implication that he might actually want to see you again after today.

“I’d like that,” you admitted, ducking your head shyly. You suddenly felt much more aware of everything around you, particularly every inch of your muscular seatmate. Goodness, he really was huge, wasn’t he? Chewing nervously on your bottom lip, you began fidgeting with your bracelet, tugging at it absent-mindedly.

“That’s a pretty bracelet,” Bradley commented, pointing at it as he watched you twist it back and forth around your wrist. “A gift?” he asked lightly, his tone almost a little too casual.

“Mhm,” you nodded, smiling fondly as you gazed down at it. You could still remember the day you opened it. “My dad bought it for me as a present when I graduated high school. I never take it off.”

“Ah,” Bradley nodded, appearing surprisingly relieved. He was quiet for a moment or two, looking like he was mulling over something. Then he turned towards you and asked, “So, um, is there anybody waiting for you in San Diego? Anyone, uh, special, I mean?” he asked, his cheeks and his ears turning red as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You felt your own skin grow warm in response. Was Bradley asking if you had a boyfriend? And was he embarrassed about it? Just when you thought this man couldn’t possibly charm you any more than he already had.

“Not unless you count my neighbor, Mrs. Flores. She really appreciates it when I walk her dog on the weekends,” you told him, your lips twitching as you tried to maintain a straight face.

Caught off guard by your response, Bradley let out a loud laugh, covering his mouth with one hand as he glanced down at you, eyes twinkling.

“I’m sure Mrs. Flores will be very happy to see you back again,” he nodded, tapping his fingers on his tray table.

The two of you sat in silence for a couple minutes until you finally glanced up and said, “I had actually just gotten out of a long-term relationship right before I moved to San Diego. It was kind of the catalyst for why I decided to take the job at the Midway Museum.”

“Oh, really?” Bradley asked, eyebrows shooting up. Then he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. If it’s too personal, we don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sighed, twirling your bracelet a few times as you thought back on your last failed relationship. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as it normally did. Maybe time really did heal all wounds. You took a deep breath before you elaborated. “Andrew and I were together for four years. For a long time, I really thought he was the one. Katie was convinced that he was going to propose on our trip to Greece. It was a dream vacation for me. I had the whole thing planned out for months and months. And I really started to let myself believe that it was going to happen.”

Bradley sat quietly, watching you carefully as he attentively took in every word you uttered.

“We were in Athens, and I had the whole day planned—all these tours and museums. But Andrew insisted that he was too tired since we had just traveled from Rhodes, and he begged me to let him stay behind at the hotel. Being the idiot that I am, I thought that maybe he wanted to put the finishing touches on his big proposal. So I went on the tours by myself. But the last tour ended early, so I came back to our hotel room a little sooner than expected.”

Your throat began to tighten as the story continued, the pain of what had happened next eclipsed only by your embarrassment that Bradley would soon know how pitifully your last relationship had ended. Why had you brought all this up?

“I’ll spare you all the details, but suffice it to say, I found Andrew in bed with one of the cocktail waitresses from the hotel bar. And to no one’s surprise, there was no ring and he never had any intention of proposing. So I flew home from Greece minus a boyfriend and with very little remaining of my dignity. Leaving everything behind and starting fresh in San Diego seemed like a really good idea, so when the Midway contacted me, I jumped at the offer. And here I am,” you finished with a self-conscious laugh, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly.

Bradley didn’t say anything at first, just continued to stare at you in a way that had you feeling distinctly exposed. Your fingers immediately went to your bracelet once again, nervously fidgeting and waiting for him to say something.

Reaching out, he placed his hand over yours and stilled your movements gently. “First of all,” he began slowly, looking directly into your eyes. It seemed as though he was peering directly into your soul. “Andrew is a complete and total loser. If he didn’t know what he had in you, then he never deserved you to begin with. It’s his loss, and trust me, he’ll be regretting it for the rest of his life if he has even an ounce of sense.” His thumb brushed lightly against your knuckles, making your legs suddenly feel like Jell-O. “Second of all, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that, and I hope you know that the way that idiot treated you in no way says anything about you. I’ve only known you for a few hours, but I can see that that guy never deserved you to begin with.”

Feeling bashful, you lowered your head, trying to escape the intensity of Bradley’s dark eyes. It didn’t matter though—you could still feel his gaze.

“You don’t have to say that,” you murmured, not wanting him to think you had just unloaded all of this on him for sympathy points.

“I’m not just saying it,” he insisted, his voice serious. “You’re a special girl, and you deserve to be with someone who treats you that way.”

Someone like you?

The thought sprang unbidden to your mind, causing you to grow flustered. “Th–thank you,” you stammered, worried for half a second that Bradley could actually read your mind.

You were saved from having to make any further comment in that moment when the stewardess suddenly appeared with the food cart, asking you if you wanted any snacks or beverages.

You opted for a Diet Coke and popcorn, while Bradley took a Sprite and a bag of potato chips.

“What do you say? A little toast to my new flight buddy?” Bradley suggested teasingly, holding his can of soda out towards you.

You couldn’t help but smile, lightly tapping your can against his. “Cheers to us,” you laughed, taking a small sip.

“To us,” Bradley grinned. “You know,” he went on, after taking a gulp of his Sprite, “if you ever want to think about getting your pilot’s license, I’d be happy to have you as my wingman—er, woman.”

You laughed aloud at the notion, shaking your head. “Um, did you already forget about how well I handled takeoff? I’m not so sure anyone would trust me behind the controls of a plane.”

“I could teach you,” he shot back, waggling his eyebrows until you laughed again. “Or at the very least, take you up for a little joyride. I’d make sure to keep you safe.”

Your heart warmed at his words, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to walk through life with this man, to have him be the one you came home to every day.

To have him be the one to make you feel like the most special girl in the world.

“I would like that,” you confessed, pushing your self-consciousness to the side as you looked into his eyes. “I would like that a lot.”

“So would I,” Bradley replied, his expression earnest.

For the next hour or two, you and Bradley shared some of the snacks you’d packed in your duffel bag and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had never felt so instantly at ease with someone who had been a complete and total stranger just a few hours earlier. The fact that he had been in San Diego all this time, right under your nose, and that it had taken a flight home all the way from Virginia for you two to actually meet felt like more than just a coincidence. It felt like this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

At some point, you must have finally succumbed to your exhaustion and fallen asleep because when the captain announced that you were making your final descent into San Diego International Airport, you were lifting your head off Bradley’s shoulder and blinking in confusion.

“Hello there, sleepyhead,” Bradley grinned, wiping a hand down his face and rubbing the sleep out of his own eyes.

“How long was I asleep?” you asked, stretching your arms over your head. “I never sleep on planes.”

“Well you definitely slept on this one. I’d say you were probably out for at least an hour and a half,” he told you, running a hand through his hair, which made his sunkissed curls stand on end. “I nodded out, too. Guess we both needed it, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so,” you nodded, smiling at him.

By the time you finally deplaned—after Bradley, of course, had insisted on taking down your carry-on suitcase from the overhead bin and rolling it through the airport for you—you were growing both eager and anxious with anticipation of what the end of your journey would look like.

You and Bradley technically already had each other’s phone numbers, so should you say something about getting together? Would that seem too brazen? Should you just text him tomorrow and hope that whatever spark had been ignited during your travels today wouldn’t be extinguished by the time you both got home?

All of those thoughts and more were running through your head as you and Bradley took the escalator down to baggage claim and the terminal exit.

“Do you, um, do you have somebody picking you up?” Bradley asked as the two of you stepped off the escalator. He stepped to the side to avoid the flow of the crowd, and you stepped with him. “Mrs. Flores perhaps?” he added with a teasing spark in his eye.

“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “I was just planning to call an Uber.”

“No need,” he said, his chest puffing out ever so slightly. “Mav and I will give you a ride home. He should actually be here already,” he mumbled, almost to himself, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his messages.

“Oh, you guys don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t want you going out of your way,” you hurried to tell him, noticing that Bradley still had his hand on the handle of your suitcase.

“Who says it would be going out of our way?” Bradley retorted with that impossibly charming smile of his. “Unless, of course, you’re more comfortable taking an Uber. I don’t want to make you feel like—”

“No, no, you’re not,” you interrupted, wanting to make it clear to him that you appreciated the offer.

Seemingly at an impasse, the two of you just looked at each other and started laughing.

“I would love a ride, thank you. If it’s not too much trouble,” you told him.

“Never,” Bradley insisted. “Besides, you put up with me all day. I owe you.”

“I could say the same thing,” you grinned, reaching into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulling out your cell phone. “In the meantime, I should text Katie and let her know I landed safely and that you haven’t abducted me or anything,” you teased jokingly.

Too late, you realized your mistake.

“Ah, so you told Katie about me, huh?” Bradley smirked, looking just a tad too pleased with himself. “What did you say?”

“Oh, um, nothing, just that I made a friend while traveling,” you stammered in humiliation, your cheeks feeling like they were on fire. “I’m just, um, I’m going to step over there while you get your bag.”

“Sure, sure,” he laughed, winking at you as he hurried over to the baggage carousel to search for his suitcase.

“Oh my God, how stupid are you?” you muttered to yourself, mentally kicking yourself for your careless words as you sent off a quick message to your best friend to let her know you were alive.

A moment later, she texted you back.

YOU BETTER CALL ME THE MINUTE YOU GET HOME!!! I WANT EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL!!!

Smiling, you dropped your phone back into your bag and looked up to see Bradley walking towards you, his suitcase in hand.

“Ready to head out?” he asked with a smile, watching as you grabbed the handle of your carry-on and did one quick scan to make sure you hadn’t dropped anything.

“Ready,” you nodded, following him outside to where a slew of Ubers and other cars were waiting to pick up their passengers.

“There’s Mav,” Bradley told you, pointing with his free hand towards the end of the pick-up line, where a handsome older man with dark hair and an easy smile was waving at you.

“Your godfather drives a Porsche?” you asked, your eyes nearly bugging out of your head at the sight of the vintage car. It was in pristine condition and you were certain it must have cost a small fortune.

“Technically, it’s his fiancée, Penny’s car, but she lets him drive it when he’s been good,” Bradley joked, resting a gentle hand on your back as he guided you through the crowd.

Bradley was quick to embrace his godfather when the two of you finally reached the Porsche, slapping him on the back before stepping back and holding out a hand to you. “Mav, I’d like you to meet my new travel buddy,” he grinned, introducing you by name.

Mav, as Bradley kept calling him, offered you one of those easy smiles as he held out his hand, which you took with a smile of your own.

“Ah, so this is the girl from the plane I’ve been hearing so much about,” Mav smirked, shooting a pointed look in his godson’s direction.

“Mav!” Bradley hissed through gritted teeth, his complexion instantly turning pink, even in the shade.

“Ah,” you smirked, feeling vindicated from your earlier blunder. “So you told Mav about me, huh?” you asked, nudging his side. “What did you say?” you teased, tossing back his question from before.

“Oh, he said plenty,” Mav jumped in, clearly enjoying watching Bradley squirm as he opened the passenger side door for you.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s crazy. All those Gs he’s always pulling have finally gone to his head,” Bradley protested, although he was smiling as he said it.

“Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy this car ride very much,” you giggled, winking at Bradley as you slid into your seat.

“Promise you’ll still like me by the time we get home?” Bradley whispered, leaning in close as he climbed in beside you.

You grinned up at him, thinking about how, for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel so alone. San Diego suddenly felt much more like home than it ever had.

“Promise.”

[genericpuff]

What do you think about Reachel's new redraw?

I feel like the characters look good but the background is too gray compared to the original one 😕

It's pretty rough, ngl. Not even necessarily because of the art itself, but because it's not a panel she should have ever redrawn to begin with.

The whole point of that scene was to showcase Persephone bringing life into the Underworld, a place where only death existed, but in this redraw it completely lacks that messaging, resulting in a scene of Persephone and Hades simply hugging each other in the dark with very dead-looking foliage surrounding them.

On a structural level, the composition has gone from vertical to horizontal, giving us way too much empty space around them which, again, is failed by the background being so dull and lifeless; Persephone's somehow become even smaller; and worst of all (though I'm sure some people will think I'm overreacting) her hair isn't tucked up in Hades' arms anymore, it's just sort of falling perfectly over his shoulder as one solid goop of pink, strangely changing shape as if it's resting on something but there's clearly nothing there.

That said, my opinions should be taken with grains of salt because I also have a lot of personal beef with a redraw like this - that original panel was my phone background for like, 2 years, and the episode it came from is still one of my favorites of all time in spite of all the criticisms I now have of the series, with art that originally inspired me to want to learn how to draw like Rachel.

There's been a lot of evidence over the past year or so to suggest that Rachel has "fallen out of touch" with her own work and these redraws that she's been making lately feel like tangible proof of that. The context in which she created those original panels no longer exists so to try and redraw them fundamentally misses the point of why they were so iconic to begin with.

I can understand that feeling of falling out of touch with your own work, to the point of not even seeing the appeal of it yourself anymore, but that's all the more reason to keep moving forward, not back. The fact that she's still just muddling around with LO stuff despite announcing two more projects and seemingly not making any progress with either the TV show or Rachel Smythe Presents... it really does seem like she's stuck in limbo. The deadlines and contractual obligations aren't there to motivate her anymore, and while that may now have freed her from the burden of creating LO in such a cramped and unhealthy space - now being able to create it simply for herself - I think the years of working on it have definitely taken its toll on her ability to create the way she used to and so we're seeing those growing pains now.

The real bummer about it is that it's being celebrated as "growth" but it's about as much growth as the illustrated environment above - dead and bleak.

[greycaelum]

imagine past/young gojo and reader go into the future and meet the future gojo and reader with the kids and shi

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters: { Sweet Things }

—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader

𑁍 Synopsis:

2016... The paycheck you got yesterday was dated 2010. "This is crazy..." Is this even possible? Your knees faltered, staggering back as you reread the paper. You have fallen into the wrong timeline. Did the curse have so much power to send you far to the present? How are you gonna go back?

𑁍 Genre: fluff, time-leap

𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (1.4k)—/ glimpse of teen Satoru, teen reader, the reader got sucked in a curse's domain, clingy Satoru—/

𑁍 A/N: For some reason, there seems to be a number that likes this trope (I have two more of the same request in the inbox). This is not my forte, so sorry for the very long wait dear. I'll post the next part in Satoru's POV. This will be a three-shot I guess.

"Neh, can you fight?" A 19-year-old Satoru held his breath as he asks the girl he's been wanting to talk to for years now. "I can train you," he added.

"No, but if you do that stunt again I'm gonna knee you where the sun doesn't shine." You smiled sweetly at the male, contrasting with the blank look in your eyes. 

Satoru's heart only shivered. Please, you have to stop being so adorable it's making his heart go batshit pounding.

"Yaga-san, I'm going. Please wire my payment to the usual account." You bowed at the older male chanting to let down a curtain. You move to get out before the partition touched the ground.

"Oi!" Satoru almost choked on himself watching you turn your back on him. Not so fast pretty girl. Not when he's spent years looking at you from afar. He stopped you and handed over the blue folding umbrella.

"Sorry about that, I'm Gojo Satoru, and take this. It's going to rain," Satoru smiled and reach for your hand, depositing the umbrella before you could reply, and ran back into the curtain. He bit his lips, grinning to himself so badly he feels like he wants to roll on the ground. Damn it! You're just so cute. Seconds later small droplets started to fall.

That was how you "first" met the annoying but thoughtful menace. But little did you know...

Little by little he meets you more frequently in the missions, being a window, you're the first in the scene before the managers and sorcerers arrive. And it was supposed to be a normal mission and the sorcerers were just a bit late when you got entangled in the domain, with no way out. Just when your eyes are fully engulfed in the bottomless pit, a dash of white hair rushes forward and a shout called you.

"Y/n! Wake up, hey grab on me!" A crisp profanity flew out of the rude mouth. You swam into consciousness and gasped for oxygen.

You thought you're gonna die. That wasn't the first time you put down a curtain for a special grade curse but it sure will be the closest you get to dying. The curse messes up space and time. After regaining your breath, your eyes fluttered open and met the thick foliage of trees staring back at you.

The sound of loud children nearby occupied your hearing as you swam into full consciousness. This is Jujutsu Tech's grounds, the scenery is familiar but you don't know where it will lead since Master Tengen's barrier changes every day leading to different kinds of places to keep intruders from invading the school.

You started walking until you find yourself at the door of the mountain, towards the city. You look down at your dirty clothes and sighed. Perhaps getting a shower first makes sense. You hailed a cab and gave your address.

"!?"

The three-story building you're living in is nowhere and it was replaced by a fancy-looking cafe.

Les Sucreries

"What is going on?" You remember walking up and going out of your apartment this morning. You can't be in the wrong place since the ice cream parlor you love is right in front and a few blocks is the cafe you are working on part-time. 

"Ah, Miss. If you'd like please check out this flier it's time-limited so make sure to drop your entry!" A lad skip up to you and extended a flier then ran away.

Free Bouquet for the first three visitors... Fleur-de-Lis Bouquets. Only until July 27, 2016...

2016...

The paycheck you got yesterday was dated 2010.

"This is crazy..." Is this even possible?

Your knees faltered, staggering back as you reread the paper. You have fallen into the wrong timeline. Did the curse have so much power to send you far to the present? How are you gonna go back?

If in 2016 your apartment is not there anymore... Does that mean you finally got to buy your own house? What course did you take in college? Did you finally get a decent boyfriend?

A blush rose to your face. Why of all things did you have to think of that? You should first find a way home before worrying about that. Maybe going back to Jujutsu Tech will help. You started walking in the direction of the college.

The cafe door opened and a lady in a barista's apron peeked outside. The baby she's carrying on her hip calmed down when she walked out of the cafe. 

"Did you see someone we know Kou-chan?" The lady chuckled as she tickled her baby boy with striking white hair while he tried to babble and pointed his chubby finger at the lady walking away.

"Mama..."

"Mnn? Mama's right here sweetheart." 

II

Ahhh, this is crazy. The Tokyo of 2010 and Tokyo of 2016 look so alike and not at the same time.

You walked and walked and stopped.

That striking white hair that stands out of the crowd, lanky figure, and cool minty scent. The man is walking on the other side of the road and stopped on the red lights.

"Gojo?"

Your hands immediately flew to cover your mouth. He's wearing a weird white bandage over his eyes and his hair is fluffed up by the constricting cloth. But it's him! He looks just a 'bit' more handsome and mature...

Shit! You smacked your head. This is not the time for those thoughts.

And you'd never admit it to him or else his ego will gloat and you won't hear the end of it. Sometimes you wonder if ever someone has duct taped his mouth because he's so noisy and annoying.

Anyways, you can't help but trail after Gojo. Surely he'll help you if you just approach him. Everyone says he has a bad personality but when you first met him, he may sound condescending yet he ran after you to give you an umbrella because it was going to rain. That was thoughtful of him.

He's not that so bad... You thought and sighed. He may have the answer on how you could come back home. But at the same time, you're a little curious about how he turned out 6 years later. Just a little curious. After you're satisfied you'll approach him!

Come to think of it... Is he married? He should be 24 right now... It's quite young to be married yet but knowing that he came from the Gojo Clan and on top he's the heir it's not surprising if he already has an arranged marriage partner.

What does she look like? She must have a very unique curse technique and be from a prestigious clan.

Argh! Stop thinking about that Y/n. I need to go home. You steeled your thoughts.

Mustering up your courage you ran to the nearest pedestrian line and ran after Gojo but he walks damn fast.

"Damn, those lanky legs." You panted and look around only to realize you're back to where you were before. 

Les Sucreries

That's French... The name fits Gojo very much.

What is he doing here? Overcame by curiosity, you entered the cafe and sat on the farthest table. Will he recognize you?

That was when a woman came down the stairs, wearing a plain brown apron. She didn't notice you because she was focused on the man leaning on the stairs. The man was Gojo.

And the woman... was you...?

Your jaw dropped and took another look at the woman's face. It's definitely you!

It's just that your hair is longer and your body is more mature. And there's the palpable wedding band on your left ring finger.

But that's definitely "you" standing beside the strongest sorcerer, with his hands wrapped around "your" waist as he tries to sneak a kiss.

W-What happened?

Your heart was pounding and slowly regretted entering the cafe. Not in your wildest dreams did you think this would even be a possibility. I-Is he your h-husband?

So you got married. And not just married!

You're married to Gojo.

What were you thinking?! Ahhhhh! You felt your heart like a dying fish removed from the water. This isn't real... You could feel your soul escaping from your body.

You looked up and blue eyes met you. The same arrogant smirk on his lips and he whispered something to "your" ear and kissed her temples before walking towards your direction. The future "you" went up the stairs, still uninformed that her six years younger self is here.

"You blushing Y/n-chan?" He chimed and sat on the chair across from you, flashing a devilish grin. "So... how did my lil' teen crush get here?"

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld

[the-monkeies-girl]

did u miss me??? but anyway—-

Caesar was a remarkably fast walker--- at least, in your mind there was no doubt that his proportionally shorter legs were swift, balanced and spaced toes able to give assistance when needed for extra grip and it was hard to ignore the ever lingering sense of envy that drifted against your ribs at the mere sight of him trailing ahead of you. Even despite your rain boots having decently new tread against the soles, they were nothing compared to the dexterity and assurance that Caesar had to not stumble over himself. He was confident in every stride, gait powerful from the tips of his shoulders that bristled with the thickened fur of the Winter Months that were now cresting their peak against the sleek land, all the way down the narrowing but not lanky torso and protruding with muscles that deemed purpose even when not in use. 

There was a desperate urge from the recesses of your mind to move faster, to catch up and walk shoulder to shoulder with the Ape King himself, to feel the fur that your fingertips were so familiar with kissing the polyester of your jacket but that never garnered favor. Caesar lead you- figuratively and mentally, emotionally… To keep you safe in the Colony, comforted away from the Humans who brought their own destruction… Secure, with him and only him… It was an unspoken rule between the Ape and your Human self that beckoned no one to break it, sacred almost like a promise between two children on the playground. Never to be broken, but over time, it would be forgotten in favor of falling into a routine, mundane and just another way of living. 

And that’s what this was, you thought to yourself with a small smile as Caesar peered over his left shoulder, urging you in silence to follow his placed foot steps over a fallen tree-trunk, covered in moss and silken dew from condensation that clung all too desperately to the air. Whenever you left the Colony together on foot, Caesar would bring his large frame a few paces in front of you to the point where your vision was nothing more than the broad shoulders that swept side to side with radiated assurance for you but juxtapose held nothing but warmth in the middle of the night when you were tangled in the nest together.

He was scanning the area with his lustrously green irises that were now brighter in color than the foliage that turned a bleak and boring gray this time of year, anything that posed a danger he would help you through. Anything that your Human feet could trip over, he pointed out in usual silence and it left you reeling that anyone in the days after the Flu took all semblance of empathy away from Humanity would care for you in such a way. 

Caesar did though --- despite differences, you watched in bated hushedness as he reached his hand out, the fur along his knuckles tickling at your fingertips as you reached up and allowed him to laden your body closer as if you weighed nothing more than a leaf, embracing you against his chest with momentum that left you staggering for a breath, moving you around the fallen trunk that did not pose much of a threat, but the Ape was intuitive enough to notice you were falling behind in your hurriedness. Slowly, the arm that was by his side wrapped to tuck itself around your waist, pulling you in even further for stability as your center of gravity kissed feverishly against his own, submitting and leaning into it without reserve.

You smiled a 'thank you' towards your mate, returned only with a creased upward haze of his mouth and a playful gesture of his hand as the Chimp signed, 'Need you to stay close.'

"I know." You whispered softly, seeing the surge of the gray fur that lined his muzzle bristle at the sheer tenacity your breath had being so close to his face. "I could get lost, blah blah. You've told me---"

To outsiders, it would appear you were being scolded for not listening, but to the inner workings between Caesar and yourself, it was playful... Flirtatious around the edges as his voice came out in a deepened and rich baritone, a few notches below from the voice he used with others. It itched at the inside of your brain that yearned to have him inside of your skin, inside of your mind just to cure all the morbid and lasting curiosities you had about being mated to the King himself.

"Should listen then. Do not know... What I would do if you... Got lost." In a mirror position, you could feel the heat of his breath against your cheeks, playing along the thinly placed baby hairs of your skin and catapulting a shiver down your spine that was not due to the sudden breeze that sky-rocketed the landscape and rustled the graying and dead leaves. Caesar.... cared for you more than any Human ever would or could.

[devourable]

☾ the monster

sfw | tws : teratophilia, yandere behavior/thoughts, kidnapping?

yandere monster x gn reader! only pronoun for reader used is 'you'

the last of my male yanderes from the poll,, finally <3 tysm to my friend for helping me w this :,) this one goes out to all my monster lovers out there (aka me). his name isn't used in this fic but hes named mykolas!

also!! after this fic i'll be going on a short hiatus! i have to work a lot this week and won't have time/energy to write or draw. but i will still respond to messages and will answer asks when i return (or during the down time i do have if i can). i'll see you all soon! <3

the beast was lonely. he always had been, and figured he always would be.

he learned long ago that he wasn't something that people cared for. every attempt to interact with civilization was met with fear and vitriol, harsh reminders that he wasn't allowed to enjoy the company of others. every strange happening, every fool that went missing, every incident that the townsfolk couldn't explain was always blamed on him.

even the sign outside of his forest said it ; "keep away! the beast of rochshire wood lurks!". no one would dare to step foot in his domain.

so the day he discovered you in his woods, things changed.

what were you doing there, he wondered? you looked so content, so unafraid to be in his forest as you traveled from bush to bush, picking berries and uprooting a few edible plants to tuck them away in the basket you were carrying. did you not see the signs? weren’t you afraid?

despite his questions about your presence there, something drew the beast to you. he didn't feel the urge to hide himself away like he usually would when a human stumbled into his home. you… he felt you were different. you must’ve been unlike the others if you could just come along so casually like this.

the foliage he stood in rustled as he slowly approached you. somehow, you didn’t notice or feel his eyes on you despite how intensely he was observing you and continued with your activities at first. it wasn't until a stick loudly snapped under his step thay your head snapped in his direction.

your eyes widened as you locked them with the glowing white gaze of the hulking beast before you. he was massive! so big that the large antlers atop his head brushed against the branches above him. and the pitch black fur that the... thing was covered in did nothing but make it almost seem like an amorphous mass of muscle. he was unlike anything you'd ever seen before.

you wanted to be scared. you wanted to scream and run away, get out of the forest and return to the safety of your home. the rumors, the signs — they were all true! they weren't a joke like you assumed! but despite your brain screaming at you to get out of there, you just didn't. you were frozen in place, unable to move or even react as the creature slowly leaned down to you and...

sniffed you?

the strange chuffing sound caught you off guard, baffling you out of your frozen state. you blinked a few times and realized — it was definitely sniffing you. and it pulled away right after, taking a step or two back.

the monster was so desperate to not look like a threat to you. you were so lovely, you seemed so sweet, and you smelled nice! he didn't want to scare you away! with a sort of chirping noise, he laid his head to the ground in a bid to show you that he was harmless.

curiosity got the better of you. possibly against your better judgement, you took a step toward the beast. he lifted his head slightly as you slowly pressed your hand to what you could only assume was the creature's forehead. and sure enough, this earned a small trill from him.

you couldn't help the small laugh falling from your lips, which promptly got his massive tail wagging. you weren't scared! you were touching him! and it wasn't to hurt him! his heart was pounding so much that he practically vibrated with excitement. he sat back — unintentionally startling you, but thankfully not driving you away.

you tilted your head, slowly, to the left. the creature did the same, its massive antlers brushing against the branches over its head. you tilted your head to the right, and it followed suit. you raised a hand and sheepishly waved to the creature, and to your surprise, it waved back!

that was all he need to fall completely head over heels for you.

you were oblivious to his adoration for you, but you definitely weren't hating your time with him. he wasn't nearly as bad as the village made him out to be! so you didn't notice the time flying by as the monster herded you deeper into the forest (away from the way out), guiding you to the bushes with the best berries and the biggest patches of edible foliage. he seemed so happy to have company, it was so easy to convince yourself to stay longer.

every time you tried to go into a direction he didn't want you going in, he'd pick you up and set you back down in the way he wanted you to go. and you let him. you didn't have very much of a choice in the matter, but it was okay! so what if the sun was starting to set? he was filling your basket — you wouldn't have to shop for days after this. and every time you made even the slightest suggestion of having to go, he gave you those big, glowing puppy eyes that you just couldn't disappoint.

just a few more minutes and you'd leave, you told yourself. you said it even after your basket and pockets were well beyond their capacity. you said it when the shadows started growing and the sky grew even darker. you said it until the moon was overhead, and the path out of the forest was too obscured for you to find it again...

when you looked at the beast again, he offered you his hand. and again, possibly against your better judgement, you took it.

it was dangerous to be alone in the forest, didn't you know? but there was nothing to worry about. the monster would make sure nothing — no one — took you from the safety of his presence.

you weren't safe anywhere that wasn't by his side.

please reblog to support me!

[blooberrries]

「 extemporaneous 」 — 07 ☾

— pairing: multi; shoto x reader, izuku x reader (so FAR...) — genre: hybrid au, slow burn-ish, reverse harem — wc: 3.4k — rated: nsfw; heavy petting (?) — notes: it has the barest sprinkle of spice. soon we will arrive upon the porn with plot...... soon....... save me

You've never really had much to do with hybrids, existing in your own little bubble for a majority of your life. That comes to an end when your friend phones you for help and somehow you end up taking two hybrids off of her hands while they recuperate in the wake of an unfortunate incident. But when the time comes that they have to leave, will you really want them to go?

⟵prev. || masterlist || next⟶

Recently, the boys have taken to accompanying you on your morning exercises.

The weather is getting cooler, and with it the days shorter, so you’re not particularly opposed. Well, you wouldn’t be anyway because you enjoy spending time with them and there is also no way in hell that you would miss the opportunity to see them work out.

(For scientific reasons, of course. Hybrids are built a little different, after all. You’re definitely not a pervert and any source saying otherwise constitutes defamation.)

You’re on your back, having sprawled on the cool grass around ten minutes ago in an attempt to catch your breath after a run. You might have bitten off more than you could chew by telling them they could set the pace, but you’d sooner stub your own toe than admit the difference in your fitness levels. Thankfully you’ve regained control of your lungs and are no longer heaving, and they appear none the wiser to your momentary health crisis. You are pleased to maintain even scraps of your dignity at this point.

“I like this park.” A voice muses from your left. You allow your head to roll slightly, eyes falling upon the stretched form of the canine hybrid beside you. A breeze rustles the snowy hair that brushes his right cheekbone. “Quiet. Peaceful. Also, quite pretty.”

You hum in agreement; you’re in a meadow-like area that you can reach by following the footpath for a kilometre or so. Trees loom tall on the outskirts, creating verdant walls of green that curl the small sanctuary into their embrace as warmth from the sun pools in the centre and glimmers off the dewy grass. Instead of speaking, you allow a moment for the reply from Izuku that you can feel coming. It enters the air like clockwork barely a second later.

“Isn’t it, Sho?” Izuku tilts his head back, the sun filtering through foliage to paint his skin in swathes of gold. “Plus, it’s nice seeing so many other hybrids come through here every so often.”

Shoto lets out a noise in agreement. In an odd moment of serendipity, a family of hybrids accompanied by a single human emerge from where the path disappears into the treeline in the distance. The child swinging between the two adult hybrids couldn’t be any more than five years old, and the second they lay eyes on the great expanse of grass woven with patches of clovers and wildflowers before them, a delighted peal of laughter rings in the air.

Before you can think twice, your eyes are moving to scan the expressions of your companions in curiosity. From what you recall, an intact family unit isn’t very common for hybrids, though Nejire told you once that it is becoming increasingly the norm. Hybrids from the initial generations, those born in a sterile lab, are now creating families and small communities of their own as the movement for their rights strengthens and gains more traction over time. It makes you happy to see it in action, though a part of you worries that the sight might bring up memories for your companions that aren’t particularly pleasant.

Then again, you have no idea about their backgrounds, really.

Thankfully, the shift in their expressions isn’t sad or melancholy. Rather they appear contemplative, bordering on nostalgic. Curiosity lingers in an unspoken question on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t dare to voice it.

It’s Shoto that volunteers to fill the silence first.

“I wonder if that kid gets lonely,” he muses. “It doesn’t look like they have any siblings.”

You blink, something about the way he says that sparking a new curiosity. “… You had siblings?”

He shrugs, a small smile curling at the corners of his lips. He glances at you and then Izuku from the corner of his eye. “Well, maybe not in the typical sense. We were often created in batches, so we definitely weren’t alone.”

“You have company, but in all you don’t get to spend much time with the other hybrids. The adoption process can start young sometimes,” Izuku supplies, shaking his head to dislodge a leaf clinging to his forest-hued curls. “Shoto and I actually ‘grew up’ together, in a way.”

The confusion must be evident on your face, because the rabbit hybrid laughs and reaches out to pinch your cheek. You frown but can’t be bothered to lift your arm and bat him away, and so he remains the unspoken victor.

“I guess you could call it that.” Shoto snorts, reaching up with both arms to stretch. The movement lifts the edge of his shirt to reveal smooth honey-toned skin and you fight for your life to keep your eyes in a respectful location. “I think our labs ended up merging at some point and from then on we kind of got stuck together. Neither of us were ever officially adopted.”

That takes you by surprise, actually. Ignoring how visually stunning they are, both hybrids are pleasant and sweet, sincere in everything they do, and a pleasure to be around. You can safely say the addition of them into your life and routine has been a blessing. So when you take in his words, your brain can’t quite comprehend the idea of someone not wanting them.

A part of your feels bad for them – you know it isn’t the case for all hybrids, but for some of them the act of ‘adoption’ means a lot – but at the same time, you’re unsure whether you would have ever ended up meeting them if they had been adopted earlier in their lives.

It feels selfish, but… deep down, you’re a little glad that you were able to know them as a result of it.

Shoto lowers his arms and twists to face you a little more, eyes surveying your supine form. You have a feeling that he is looking for the best place to curl up and your suspicions are confirmed when he zeroes in on your abdomen and turns back around so he can recline with his head resting on the soft swell of your stomach. You don’t even bother trying not to blush. You’ll just blame the heat of the sun if you need to. Or even the exercise. Plenty of excuses.

“It’s good to see so many kids around,” Izuku hums, blowing some hair out of his face and allowing his eyes to flutter closed after. It’s a slight redirection of the current topic, but you don’t particularly mind. “There’s more than I thought there would be, considering the current ratio.”

This piques your interest further, tickling something familiar in the back of your mind you’d heard once upon a time. “The current ratio…?”

“Of male to female hybrids,” Shoto supplies helpfully in his soft, leisurely tone, turning his head and nuzzling into your abdomen just below your ribs. You have to physically hold down the responding shudder that wants to roll over your body. “It’s pretty disproportionate, currently. Something like one female hybrid for every two –- or is it three? -– male hybrids.” “Oh shit,” you mutter, the words leaving you before you can think to censor yourself. “Tough odds.”

Shoto snorts, and Izuku looks to be fighting a grin. Surprisingly, it is the hybrid currently taking up real estate on your stomach that continues.

“It might look like that,” Shoto hums, his head tilting just enough for his mismatched eyes to trail and lock onto your own. The slightest curl plays around the corner of his mouth. “But we’re pretty adaptive, you know. Most hybrids tend toward polyandry.”

Oh. Oh. Nejire never told you that.

Shoto’s eyes, clear and glimmering in the morning sunlight, track every minute movement and change in your face. His ears flick ever so slightly, no doubt catching the slight uptick in your heartbeat as well as the warmth gathering in your face.

You have to wet your lips in order for your question to greet the air. “Why, um-- is there a reason behind the ratio?”

Izuku hums a pleasant noise, like he’s been quizzed on something that he knows the answer to.

“Men – or in this case, male hybrids – are easier to clone and create than women. Something about having two X chromosomes makes it a little more complicated, if I remember correctly.” Izuku tilts his head, eyes glazing as he falls deeper into his thoughts. “That’s probably why we all ended up having the kind of instincts that we did. Being excessively territorial is detrimental to the population as a whole when one gender greatly outnumbers the other.”

“Plus, more chances for females to conceive when there are multiple--”

“RIGHT, yeah, there’s also that.” Izuku lets out a loud, embarrassed laugh, cutting the canine hybrid off before he can continue. For his benefit, you continue to ignore the heat making itself known on your face and fight to swallow your own amused chortle. You did think it had been a little too long since the last time Shoto said something outrageous with the most unbothered face. The rabbit hybrid continues, almost like he can’t help himself.

“Even so, the bond that a, um… mated pair share is super important. Hybrids have a tendency to bond deeply in general, but I suppose it is doubly so for males. Definitely more matriarchal in nature, hybrid communities.”

Bonds? Mated pairs? You feel kind of faint as your brain works to reconcile all the information you’ve received in the last five minutes. “Huh… I see.”

Izuku suddenly looks oddly restless, almost… nervous .Evidently taking a page out of Shoto’s book, he turns and dives to bury his face in your side, eliciting a ticklish yelp from you as he does so. He ends up pulling on a lock of Shoto’s hair that had fallen over your side by accident, and the hybrid lets loose an unimpressed, low rumble. Ignoring the noise, Izuku takes a few deep breaths against your side, digging his nose into your shirt.

Sincerely, you don’t think you’re going to be able to survive this. You consider sending a prayer heavenward.

As if things weren’t already embarrassing enough for you, your stomach chooses this exact moment to let out a forlorn rumble.

Shoto snorts softly, lifting off of you and rolling to a stand with such grace, you’re genuinely envious for a moment.

“Probably best we head back and get some food in our bellies.”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice.

---------

This is a losing battle.

Granted, it’s not like you’re really fighting it at all anymore (arguably didn’t even really fight it to begin with), but still. It feels like everything is somehow snowballing, in a way that you’re not particularly against despite your better judgement.

Somehow, your two housemates have gotten clingier. They stick to you like shadows, scenting you in an almost possessive manner whenever they get the chance and more than a few times you’ve caught them sniffing you for a whiff of your own scent when they think you’re too occupied to notice.

It’s doing a number on your already frayed self-control.

The brief but very informative conversation the three of you had in the park almost a week ago has helped alleviate some of the guilt you carried for being attracted to both of them at the same time, and also planted some ideas in your head that you haven’t been able to pry out despite your best efforts.

Currently, your dilemma comes from the fact that not only are you attracted to them both, but you like them both.

It’s still budding, not at a catastrophic level as of yet, and technically speaking you would be able to be with them physically without spiralling when they eventually leave. Probably. Actually, you’re torn between not wanting to do anything to save yourself the pain in the long run, and doing something so that you can treasure and make the most of the time you currently have together.

You’d probably regret it if they ended up leaving without you addressing whatever this is between you. However, you also know yourself enough to know you’re too sappy to be able to part with them seamlessly if you did act on it.

This is torture. You almost wish they’d just make the decision for you.

Apart from those differences, the routine the three of you remains mostly unchanged. Unfortunately, that leaves plenty of opportunity for you to overthink and dwell as you complete your bedtime routine. You almost reach for a cheeky drink just so you might put an end to the thoughts and go to bed in peace. Somehow, you manage to imitate meditation enough that you eventually drift off without the need for a nightcap.

Something rouses you from sleep earlier than anticipated, though. The soft creak of your door has you blinking awake, eyes less bleary than anticipated.

It’s pitch black at first, but your eyes quickly adjust enough to see as two figures slink into the room and over to your bed. You feel the mattress dip with their weight as they climb atop, a soft rumble reaching your ears that you know to be coming from a certain canine hybrid.

“What is it?” you ask, wiping your eyes in an attempt to clear any remaining sleep. It’s harder to focus on their forms than you expect. “Is everything okay?”

“Yona.”

It’s a throaty whine that answers your question, timbre no doubt belonging to Izuku. The slimmer of the two slips closer, a hand coming to grasp the one you’d reached out without realising. Your heart stutters in your chest, breath catching in your throat. The smell of pine and jasmine twine together and brush your senses. Of course you’ve smelt whatever cologne your two hybrid roommates wear before, but never so strongly. It’s making butterflies come to life in the pit of your belly.

“What is it?” you ask again, sitting up a little more. Izuku brings your hand to his cheek, nuzzling into your palm. Your fingertips brush his fluffy curls and you find yourself winding them into the locks without a second thought.

While Izuku seems to be sitting back on his haunches for the moment, Shoto has no qualms about approaching further, his large hand brushing against the skin of your shoulder, revealed by sheets that fell when you rose earlier, before trailing down your arm and then back up. His palm settles against your neck, scorchingly hot, and the length of his fingers wrap around your nape. Your heart kicks up again, an excited, frantic patter.

Izuku’s lips press against your palm, searing affection into your flesh. You can hardly keep track of what is happening, attention torn from one to the other in rapid succession.

A soft whine escapes from Shoto this time, and he leans forward to nuzzle his face into your neck, dragging his nose along the line of your jaw. It tickles, and sends a shiver down the length of your spine.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he murmurs, mouth hot against your neck as his lips shape the words. You feel his ears flick and catch against your hair. You want to lift a hand and touch him, but for some reason your body refuses to obey. “Nothing wrong, just need you.”

You feel like your heart has stopped completely in your chest, a breathless moment passing before it returns to its chaotic gallop. You barely have the presence of mind to force out, “What…?”

The hybrid’s lips begin to press in a heated trail down your neck and across your collarbone, ignoring your murmur completely. His free arm slips around your side and behind you, pulling you close quick enough that a soft noise of surprise escapes you. Heat is beginning to set your veins alight, blood turning to magma. Your thighs clench as Shoto’s teeth scrape against your clavicle before he sucks the flesh into his mouth.

Oh my god.

Having moved you closer to the centre of the bed with his manoeuvre, there is now room for Izuku to sidle up against your other side, and he happily takes the opportunity. Your hand is dropped for only a moment before he picks it up again from his new angle, returning it to where it was. He then leans forward, burying his nose into your hair and letting out a contented groan – something he’d done earlier in the day when the three of you had been cuddling on the couch. It had made butterflies burst into your stomach then, but now it makes your body thrum in anticipation.

“You smell so good, Yona, you’re so lovely,” Izuku murmurs, the low cadence of his voice eliciting another shiver across your shoulders. “We want you, need you… don’t you want us too?”

The words leap from your throat, unbidden. “Of course I do.”

A pleased, throaty groan slips from Shoto as his mouth moves lower, towards the neckline of the singlet you’d worn to bed. You weren’t sure what to expect, but it still takes you by surprise when he drags his lips over the material, following the swell of your breast until he comes across your peak, straining against the material. He takes it into the wet heat of his mouth, and you can’t help but gasp at the sensations that reach you through the damp material of your shirt. Arousal shoots straight to your core.

Again, you will your hand to lift and tangle in his hair, but the limb remains by your side. You barely have time to feel the resulting confusion and frustration before Izuku’s free hand is trailing along your side, nails dragging along the skin of your hips and tracing the line of your waistband. The ache beginning to make itself known between your legs is suddenly all you can think about, and this time when you will your hips to shift, rocking up against his hand, they listen.

Izuku inhales softly, sounding pleased at your reaction. You feel like you’re going a little bit insane.

“Yeah? You want us? Want us to touch you, like this?”

Words catch in your throat and so you settle for an emphatic nod, eager for the touching to continue – especially if it meant Shoto was going to keep doing those things with his mouth. As though summoned by the thought, he clamps his teeth around your nipple in a light bite, sending shocks of pleasure over your skin. A moan tumbles from your throat, thighs squeezing in a sad attempt at friction.

You need more. You need more, but your stupid limbs won’t listen to you, and Izuku’s hand is going everywhere but where you need and want it most.

“Izuku,” you whine, the sound bordering on pathetic. You can hardly think amongst the drowsy haze of pleasure fogging your mind. “Please…”

Please touch me, you want to say. Your fingers twitch with the urge to grasp his hand and move it to your core, but they remain woefully unresponsive. Instead of your desired destination, his hand lifts to pinch and tug your neglected nipple softly. He seems to revel in the noises the actions elicit.

Shoto releases your abused nipple with a soft noise, leaning up to nip and lick under your ear. The sweet scent of jasmine threatens to swallow you whole.

“Tell us what you want, lovely,” he murmurs, voice thick and catching in his throat. His teeth scrape your neck and you tilt your head back, wrenching your eyes closed as Izuku times it with a firm pinch.

A rush of different desires overtake you at once, so many you can hardly choose only one to voice. You strain to lift your arm and cup his cheek, willing it desperately to move. “I-”

Your arm jerks, breaking free of its invisible bonds, and your eyes snap open. The room is quiet, save for your panting breaths, and you are entirely under the covers. A cursory glance around the room once your eyes adjust reveals you are, in fact, alone. Your bedroom door is closed, just as you’d left it before going to bed.

It takes a moment for you to be awake enough that realisation comes crashing through you. You just had a wet dream about your housemates.

…. You’re so fucked.

[steve-faglan]

Breaking and Entering pt. 2

Reader x William Afton/ Steve Raglan

TW: NON CON!! DUB CON!! NON CON!! NON CON!!

Summary: You can't stop thinking about that place. About him. You make one more foolish visit and end up in a new predicament.

PART ONE: HERE❤️

It's been weeks since you and Mike narrowly escaped the infamous William Afton. Mike doesn't talk about it, though he does find himself masturbating to the feeling of your mouth around his cock. The two of you hang out pretty regularly still, despite the horrors inflicted upon you.

You and Mike get together at a local park. It's usually empty, and today is no different. There's a small nook behind the trees on the far side of the park and that's where the two of you go to smoke. As the weather gets colder, the foliage around the woods dies down, revealing a perfect view of Freddy's. You swallow the lump in your throat when you see it and Mike quickly catches on.

"Hey, don't look at it. Let's just go back to my house." Mike tried to redirect your attention, but you continued to stare. A strange yearning builds in you that you're certain can't be what you truly want. Why would you want to go back there? You don't know, but the longing remains. You attempt to fill that craving in other ways.

"Let's go to your place." The two of you head to Mike's and he tries to softly reassure you that you're safe. Something he's had to do for you these past few weeks after the attack. He doesn't know that something in you has changed.

When you get inside, the second the door closes, you press your lips to Mike's, both hands gently holding his face.

"Is this okay?" You ask, breathlessly breaking the kiss.

"Y/N, are you sure you want this?" Mike looks shocked and concerned.

"Is this okay?" You ask again, more sternly. Mike looks into both of your eyes and finally nods before desperately reconnecting his lips to yours. In minutes the two of you are naked and fucking all over the living room. Mike is rough and desperate like he's only ever dreamt of this moment and won't let it go to waste. But it's not enough.

Mike pulls out and finishes on your ass and the two of you collapse next to each other on his couch. The room is silent aside from the unsteady, deep breaths.

"Holy shit..." Mike sighs in disbelief. You nearly fall asleep next to each other. You're not sure how to ask this, but you need to know if it's just you who can't stop thinking about that night.

"Mike."

"What?"

"Do you ever... Think about going back?" Your question confuses him so much, he doesn't even realize what you're talking about.

"Back there? No, I don't. I-I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I don't- I never think about that day. I try not to, for you." He rambles on, but you tune it out, disappointed in his answer. "Why?"

"No reason. I've just been having a lot of dreams."

"Nightmares?" Mike attempts to clarify.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Nightmares." You shrug it off. Hoping the subject gets dropped seeing as you aren't on the same page.

"Oh shit, Abby will be home soon." That's your cue to leave. Mike drives you home and it's clear he's developing feelings at a rapid rate. He bids you goodbye with a beaming smile and you do the same. Once he's gone, you go inside your house and beeline right for your bedroom.

No amount of fucking Mike or touching yourself to the memory would satiate the urge you have to let Afton has his way with you again. Your only drawback is... Would you get to live a second time? The nighttime air is crisp and chilly as winter rolls in. You stand on your porch for an entire hour before you finally get in your car and make the drive.

At first, you just sit in the parking lot. You look for another car, maybe you missed it last time. You don't see one. You begin to wonder if he's even here tonight. What a waste of this manic, dangerous behavior that would be. You eventually step out of your car and shakily approach the doors you snuck through last time.

"What the fuck am I doing?" You whisper to yourself. Something like a wave of common sense washes over you and you take a few steps away from the building. You're torn between using logic and getting the fuck out of there and the curiosity of him even still being inside. You didn't see a car, after all. You hold your breath and carefully enter the building.

Last time you were here you were careless and loud, this time your steps are as delicate as falling leaves. You hold your breath at every turn. The place is entirely silent and you don't disrupt it any further. You're carefully treading across the main area when you come across the table. You become tense as warmth pools between your legs.

You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly realize you don't want to be here. This was a mistake. You keep your eyes on the crime scene as you run away, not looking where you're going. You run into a tall, broad frame and it leaves you flat on your ass, looking up at him. William Afton. The man you came looking for and hoped you wouldn't find.

"Back already? You're filthy." He chuckles as he stands over you, basking in his power over you.

"N-No! Please I'm sorry. I- I was confused. I don't know- I don't-" You struggle endlessly with your words, raising a hand to shield yourself as you remain on the ground.

"Stand up." His demand confuses you. He's calm and quiet, it's unsettling.

"W-What?"

"Stand. Up." He speaks sternly. Impatient. You do as you're told and scramble to your feet. William places a controlling hand at the nape of your neck, guiding you like a dog on a leash. You're too scared to speak, protest, or even cry. This is it, you think.

"I- I'm sorry," you sob, but he only rolls his eyes.

"Why'd you come here?" He asks, coldly.

"I don't know! I couldn't-" he cuts you off.

"I meant the first time. Why'd you come here?" William seems to lean into your ear when he speaks, sending chills down your spine.

"I- we came here as kids," you say, hoping your nostalgic ties could earn you mercy.

"You and Micheal?"

"Yes. I just wanted to relive it for a while. I'm sorry," your story dissolves to pleas.

"That's adorable." His voice is cold and evil and the two of you disappear into a dark corridor.

Back at his house, Mike calls your landline several times. A little tied up at the moment, you're unable to answer. He recalls your troublesome questioning earlier and decides you need to be checked on. After all, in his mind, you're already his now. Mike pokes his head into Abby's room and sees she's sound asleep so he makes the drive to your house.

"Y/N?" He calls, careful not to be too loud outside your home at night. He knocks for a little while longer and even looks through your bedroom window. Nothing. He climbs back into his car to return home, not wanting to leave Abby alone for too long.

On the way he passed that damned restaurant and at the last second spots your car in the furthest corner of the lot. His stomach drops. He doesn't know how, but he's certain William lured you back there to finish the job. He squeals the tires as he whips the car into the lot and haphazardly parks before clamoring inside through the shifty entrance.

"Have a seat." William gestures to a chair similar to a dentist's chair. It has restraints and looks like it's meant to take different positions. You swallow the lump in your throat.

"P-Please. I know coming back was stupid." You shake your head and try to back away from the threatening furniture, but his hand holds you in place. His grip grows tighter and he pushes you toward the chair. Fight-or-flight takes over and you begin to fight back. You swing at him and scream for help as loud as your lungs will let you. The sound rips through your throat and burns as you pray someone hears you.

"Y/N?!" Mike calls out, having heard your screams echo through the building. "Where are you?! I'm here!" He runs up and down the many passages and doorways of Freddy's, feeling more hopeless by the second.

William successfully fastens you into the chair and steps back to admire your helpless form. He's breathless from the struggle. Pushing his hair back into its coiffed position, he licks the blood off his lip from your resistance.

"You're unbelievable. Coming back for more and acting so ungrateful. Don't think it's not perfectly obvious why you've come back," William taunts. He circles you like a shark in dark waters. He reclines the mechanism and begins to carefully remove your clothes. He's oddly gentle compared to the way he cut your clothes off last time. He unfastens each restraint one at a time until you're exposed before him in nothing but your panties.

William starts to gingerly massage your breasts, his mouth hangs slightly open in an expression that asks "What's next?" Your face becomes red and you can't help but look away from him, squeezing your eyes shut and begging your body to stop rewarding him. Your nipples harden for him and your lace panties become soaked with your arousal.

"You must've worn there for me," William gushes as his hand finally travels down to your waist. Goosebumps ignite on your skin and it's everything you can do to stop yourself from moaning. He's teasing you. He slips his fingers inside you and you lose the battle, releasing a loud, desperate moan as he curls his knuckles inside you. He's older, and more experienced. It's as if he knows your body better than you do.

He fingers you until you've given up on holding back and you're just a writhing, moaning mess in front of him.

"Shh, shh..." He whispers as he knowingly guides you to your climax.

"William-" you start to protest, but it just comes out as you moaning his name. Just as he brings you to your limit, he removes his hand entirely. Something he seems to love to do. "No!"

"Filthy little thing. Look at you," he ridicules you as he licks your arousal off his fingers. He adjusts the chair again and you're left with your legs spread for him. He takes his position, waist high to your aching entrance. "You knew what you wanted when you came back. I'm going to give it to you." William unfastens his belt and releases his throbbing cock. It seems even bigger this time. Likes he's been teasing himself this whole time. His breath shudders as he slips the tip up and down in the wetness of your clit.

"I-" you stutter.

"What is it, puppet?" He roughly runs his hands up and down your thighs, awaiting your next line of resistance. The pet name makes you feel disgusting and your face reddens.

"I don't know if-"

"You don't know if you can take it?" He asks but gives you no time to respond before he's slammed completely inside of you. He releases a loud guttural moan as your cries cause you to flex around his erection. "You're gonna fucking take it."

He thrusts into you repeatedly, stretching you out and stimulating you beyond pleasure. Your screams and moans carry throughout the hallways and Mike follows the sound.

"Looks like we have a visitor," William laughs, continuing to fuck you as he watches Mike scramble around through the security monitors. "He's getting warmer."

"Let her go!" Mike finally reaches the security office door and watches in horror as he bangs on the window. His screams are muffled, but William can still hear enough to laugh at him.

"Come take a turn, Micheal. Listen to her," he begins to toy with your clit while he's thrusting in and out of you. You want to hold back so badly, but it's not an option. You release screams of pleasure. Mike didn't even know you could make sounds like that. So degenerate and needy. It's almost distracting. Finally, he busts through the door, sustaining some damage from using his body as a battering ram.

"Let her go. Now." Mike is a new kind of angry. Protective. William tilts his head as he slowly slips out of you and fastens his slacks. You're left whimpering and exhausted.

"Here, Micheal. Have a go. Tell me how tight she is." He holds out a hand to you like he's offering a friend a tray of cigars. "Don't tell me, you two already fucked, right?" William laughs. "Was it anything like what she needed from me? Are you capable of that?" William's words set off a rage inside of Mike. He charges at the tall, broad, older man, but he's quickly and easily tossed aside. William grabs Mike by the shirt and pins him against the wall.

"Don't be stupid. She's alive because I'm using her. I don't have that much reason to keep you around." He drops the short, protective man and turns to face you where you lie half-conscious on the table.

"Just leave us alone. What more could you want?" Mike sighs, defeated.

"Oh, plenty. Unfortunately for you, it's not enough just to fuck your friend. I want the suffering." He unfastens your restraints. "I want the shame." William wraps a hand in your hair and all but throws you onto the floor. You collapse on the floor with a cry of pain and Mike runs to your aid.

"Hey, hey. I'm here, okay? I'm here," Mike frantically tries to comfort you.

"Micheal, you're really disappointing. You have to know the only reason she gave it up was to relive what I did to her," William laughs. Truly amused to be so powerful over the two of you.

"Shut your fucking mouth. Don't talk about what you did to her!" Mike holds you to him protectively, but he seems to freeze up when William comes to collect you. He stands you up on all fours, holding your head by your hair, forcing his length down your sore throat right in front of where Mike remains on the ground behind you. He's frozen as he watches you put up no fight. Your swollen hole is perfectly presented to him and he can see it becoming wetter by the second.

"Y/N..." Mike mumbles your name as he watches. He's unsure if he's heartbroken, scared, or aroused.

"I'm not always going to share her, Micheal." William's manipulative words wrap around Mike like strings on a puppet. Like it's the last time he'll ever feel your skin again, he digs his fingers into your hips and pulls you against him, grinding against your throbbing cunt. Finally, no holds barred, he shuffles his pants down and roughly slams into you. It's as if William's influence was inescapable inside the walls of the restaurant, and Mike couldn't stop his darkest urges.

You moan against William's dick as he manually bobs your head with his fist full of your hair.

"All you're good for is getting fucked. Even your 'best friend' thinks so." William laughs as tears streak down your face. You're jostled back and forth as each man shoves themselves deeper and deeper inside of you. Afton finishes first, filling your mouth and throat with warmth as Mike takes over. He plows into you, quickening his off-beat thrusts as he reaches his peak.

"M-M-" Mike assumes you're trying to say his name. Ask him to stop. Lust has completely taken him over and he gently shushes you between hard thrusts. To his, and William's surprise, you finish your sentence. "More."

With a devilish smirk, William shoves Mike out of the way. He pulls out just as he finishes, covering you in his cum as he sits back, reeling from the orgasm. William takes over, effortlessly spinning you around to take advantage of your battered pussy. He lies you on your back and lifts your pelvis to meet his. He hesitates for a moment to look at you. Your demeanor has been completely shifted. The fear and struggle were replaced with an out-of-character neediness.

"Please!" You wail, arching your back and begging to be fucked. He chuckles as he uses one hand to guide himself inside you. You gasp as he slips past your lips. He has more girth than Mike, and seems to hit something inside you Mike just can't. You release a continuous stream of degenerate moans as he drills you. He laughs over your wails as he picks up his pace, chasing his second climax. Mike can only stare at the two of you. The way you unfold for him and how rough he is with you. He's jealous but frozen watching you cum harder than he thought possible.

William finishes inside you just as he did last time, claiming you. Mike doesn't get that power. You scream as you flood William and his well-pressed slacks and he fucks you through your high. Once he's finally done, he leaves you on the floor, too weak to move. He's so swift with fastening his pants and belt, that Mike barely realizes what's happening until Afton lands a devastating blow to his temple, knocking him unconscious.

You weakly lift your head, slowly coming to and the orgasm and lust clear from your mind.

"Mike!" You exclaim, but it's nearly silent as your throat has been used so roughly.

"Shh..." He whispers and he kneels over you next. His two strong, calculated hands reach your neck and begin to squeeze. Your eyes widen. This is it, you're certain. Tears stream down your cheeks as you look into his eyes, watching as he turns blurry and eventually fades to black.

Hours pass, days, who knows how long? Mike wakes up in the same dark alley as before. He searches for you frantically, but you're nowhere to be found.

"No, no, no, no..." Mike bangs on the doors, screaming your name to no reply. He quickly notices your car is missing and he hopes that you just left him there and went home. He deserves it and worse, after all. He stumbles to his car and drives to your place.

"Y/N," William tauntingly calls your name as he watches you come to. You realize it's the first time you've heard him say your name and you hate the way it makes your clit throb. You squeeze your eyes shut and open them again to see him standing in front of you. "I think I like you. You may feel like a prisoner for a while. But let's see what freedoms you can earn, okay?" You rise from your spot and notice you're in a room that looks almost like an incredibly tiny apartment. Like a pet cage for a human.

"Wait, what? What are-" he cuts you off as he steps out the door.

"You'll be here for a while." The door closes and you're left alone in the plain, beige room. To be used, whenever.

[boneblushed]

But on a Wednesday, in a cafe

muggle!au, James x fem!reader, I’m going through a really tough break up right now so writing this = therapy

I’ve been spending the last eight months / Thinking all love ever does / Is break, and burn, and end

Perhaps you should be used to it by now, this never-ending chasm of pain that begins and ends at the base of your ribcage.

It’s a deep, aching hurt, the kind that promises to linger until you’re forced to surrender. A draught of cool air pulls through your chest, alerting you to the tired heart squeezed within it. Every time you think about him—about the life you shared—it breaks and splinters, rocketing another of its shards into the surrounding structures. A dreadful pang.

Who knew love could hurt this much?

It’s taken a while for your heart to look the way it does. A few weeks ago, it was held within your shaking palms, wrung through with desperation as you begged him to return. Here… take it, please? It belongs to you… it’ll always be yours.

Prior to that, when the aching wounds were still fresh, you wove bandages from hopeful ignorance, fastened them with blind faith. No, love couldn’t possibly be as fickle as he was making it out to be; you couldn’t let yourself believe it was, you’d simply have to bide your time until he came to his senses.

Until he told you how wrong he was, how much he didn’t mean any of it. Of course I didn’t fall out of love with you, of course that can’t just happen; I love you, I’m sorry, forgive me?

And pathetic as your broken heart is, you would be ready to do so, no matter the stakes.

It makes you stomach roil as you think back on it now — the power he had over you, how callously he wielded it every time you spoke. Has. Present tense. The fissure deepens.

It’s terrifying, how quickly your world can shrink into nothingness. Once upon a time, you’d considered him your soul-mate—your person—and now it’s as though the pair of you are strangers, even less than.

It’s true what they say, indifference pierces deeper than hatred. After all that you’ve been through with him, all that you’ve shared, how are you supposed to simply move on and find love elsewhere?

The cobblestone path you walk along is well versed with your rumination. A quilt of autumn foliage crunches underfoot, a petrichor rich scent present in the air. Every shop window you pass boasts Thanksgiving deals that you ‘just don’t want to miss!’; it’s nauseating as much as it is heart-breaking, having to do the holidays without him for the first time in six years.

It’s probably pity more than it is fate that leads you to the new cafe in Godric’s Hollow — you’ve shed far too many tears for the Universe to bear, plagued with motion sickness from how quickly your sadness turns yearning again.

You miss him. It’s right there in your eyes, how much you miss him. James’ on barista duty whilst his colleague Remus mans the register; the latter may discern the melancholy in your features, but it’s James who recognises the exact significance of it.

He’s been through it before, you see, with Lily Evans. His gaze softens, dappled brown eyes falling over you in paces, and he wracks his brains for things he’d have wanted when he was going through the worst of it.

Except, the one thing he wanted no one could realistically give him — Lily. Who’s your mystery boy? Is it truly as over as your eyes say it is?

“Uh, hey,” you greet. Your voice doesn’t crack as much as it���s barely loud enough to register.

“Hey,” Remus responds, sending you a small smile. Playing it cool whilst his knee nudges James’ under the counter. “What can I get for you?”

“Just an iced latte please,” you answer. “With oat milk, if you have it.”

Remus punches in your order as you reach for your wallet. The cappuccino James’ making overflows.

“Shit!” He curses, jerking back his hand hastily, the skin scalded. Droplets of burnt coffee fly onto the machine as he shakes them off.

You startle, turning to look at him. “You alright?”

“Coffee’s on us,” James replies, reaching over Remus to cancel the order. His peripheral vision catches the incredulous look he sends him, but he thinks it a disservice to look away from you in this moment. The melancholy in your eyes ebbs a little. James’ heart soars.

“Really?” You ask, your voice a little louder now.

“Oh yeah,” James responds, faux-serious. “You’re our fiftieth customer today.”

“You’re lying,” you say, a flicker of a smile on your face.

James shrugs, grinning handsomely. “D’you want the free coffee or not, oat milk?”

You raise your eyebrows in response, pretending to zip your lips and throw away the key. James nods approvingly.

He discards the dregs of the cappuccino he was making, starting anew with his gaze flitting over to you intermittently. You watch the trees sway through the high windows to the left of you as you wait, your hands clasped in front of you, one wrist held in a palm. He knows, as he watches you, that you have to go feel all of the pain to see a way out of it.

So he keeps his mouth shut for now, and hopes this cafe will become a regular haunt.

Weeks, a month, two passes. He takes it slow. He thinks your dreadfully pretty but that’s besides the point right now; when he was grieving his relationship with Lily, all he wanted to do was mope and be left alone. No number of Sirius’ “friends” could quell that deep, overwhelming hankering in his chest.

“Hey,” you greet one day, resolute.

James raises his eyebrows at you. Remus is off sick. “Hey?”

“I’m paying today.”

James snorts, shaking his head. “No way.”

“I’m tipping heavily,” you warn.

“Wow,” James sighs sadly. “Like you would any other employee, huh? And here I thought we were friends.”

“Shut up.” You scowl. Not really; it baffles James, how your features can still look so sweet when they’re contorted all angrily. “You’re right. You don’t even need this job.”

The thing about James is, his family owns half the establishments in town square. He’s one of those enigmatic personalities that you’ve always known to rule your hometown; around when you are, dancing around the corners of your gaze, kind and ever-present but never very important. Until now.

He grins handsomely, dropping into a curtesy. He oozes fondness and it makes you forget things often. “Nepo baby at your service, sweetheart.”

“That’s what I don’t get about all this,” you say. “You don’t… why’re you wasting your time here? Is this gig just a way for you to pick up chics?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“James.”

He grins wider, raising his arms in surrender. “Full disclosure?”

You cock your head to one side, intrigued. “I’m listening.”

“Well… it actually started as a way to fill my time,” he answers, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “I went through a pretty tough break up last year, and I couldn’t bear to be sat at home hurting over the same shit over and over.

“So dad got me this gig. I didn’t even get paid in the start, honest. I barely did anything; made like, one coffee over eight hours. But I was around people, and that helped. I don’t know.”

You swallow. It sounds far too familiar to your own circumstances, and a distant ache rings through your chest — a reminder. “I know the feeling.”

“And then I met Rems, and introduced him to my mate Sirius,” he continues, raising his eyebrows. “Turns out they’re fucking mad for each other, who’d have thought it? And it just reminded me… I don’t know, that there’s still hope.”

Another pause. You know what he means, but you want him to say it anyway, for your own sake.

Your lashes flutter closed. “Hope?”

“To love again. Eventually.”

His rough timbre reverberates through your insides. You nod, slowly, and when you open your eyes, unshed tears darken your lashes. James frowns, but he doesn’t intervene. He knows this feeling; his own heart mourns its melody.

He hands you your coffee soundlessly.

“Thanks,” you says, your voice cracks.

When you turn around, you know you’ll be back tomorrow. And then the next day, a few days after.

You aren’t sure when you start believing it too. But slowly, slowly, without even knowing you are, you begin smiling more. Ruminating less. No one’s ever given you this many free coffees in the past. James’ tally surpasses your ex-boyfriend’s by week four; the small talk’s more about you than about him, and he learns your quirks with this startling sincerity that you didn’t think you’d ever experience again.

The more you see of James, the more you recognise how much love your past relationship lacked. Strangers, friends, more than. All you did was blink.

Though of course, you’d be lying if you said the melancholy didn’t wax and wane, flow through you in waves that make your entire being crash ashore.

James knows this. He still feels the odd pang of heartache at the thought of Evans.

On Christmas Eve, the air feels different. The melted snow in your hair glistens in the warm light of the cafe, and for the first time since he met you, James sees it reflected in your gaze.

“The usual?” Remus asks in lieu of greeting.

“Times two, if possible Rem,” you say. You turn to James. “Coffee?”

James startles for a moment before he regains his composure, his wide, brown eyes falling over your in paces. You’ve always been breathtakingly beautiful, but something about your features seems different now, better.

Softer. Healed.

“You’re paying though, right?” James asks, faux-serious.

“I see,” you reply, folding your arms across your chest. “As long as it’s not a date, you have no problem paying for things?”

“Shit,” James wolf-whistles approvingly, jumping over the counter so he’s standing right in front of you. You gaze tilts, messing with your centre of gravity. “This is a date, huh?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Do you want it to be?”

James raises his in tandem. “If that’d make you happy.”

A pause. “You know,” you say quietly, breaking eye contact. “After my break up, I didn’t think anything’d make me happy ever again.”

James’ features soften. He reaches forward and cups your jaw, returning your gaze to his. “And now?”

“Can’t you see it in my face, James Potter?” You smile poignantly. “Yes is the answer to your question, by the way. It’d make me very happy.”

Behind you, Remus begins to clap. James groans and drops his head to your shoulder, deftly flipping him off. “Don’t fucking start, Moons.”

“Are you kidding? Coffee’s are on me, by the way. Pads is going to fucking die when he finds out.”

But on a Wednesday in a cafe / I watched it begin again

[drewsbuzzcut]

I really really wanna see a chaotic thanksgiving at the barzal’s. Like it’s baby Sloan’s first thanksgiving and she is the star of the show so AJ and Nolan pull some shenanigans to get the attention. I love love love the series and I hope you never end it!!!

Thanksgiving Shenanigans

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic

warnings: alcohol consumption, a curse word or two, and I think that’s all (ALSO THIS ISNT EDITED SORRY)

As you’re adding the finishing touches to your outfit, you hear a soft banging and hushed whispers as small footsteps bound up the stairs. Thinking it’s either Nadia or Liana, you dismiss it.

“Look at Miss Sloane, isn’t she beautiful? Just like her mommy,” Mat comes up behind you, Sloane in one arm as his other wraps around you, right under your boobs.

You lean into his chest, turning your head to see Sloane’s beautiful face. She’s dressed in a maroon and cream plaid dress, paired with dark tights and a white, furry vest.

“Oh my goodness! She is so very beautiful. The most gorgeous princess I’ve ever seen,” you coo, gliding your thumb over her cheek.

She coos back, her face scrunching up in delight and you instantly melt. She looks so much like Mat and you love it.

“Mommy!” When you and Mat turn at the sound of Nolan’s voice, both of your eyes widen in shock.

Nolan is standing at the entrance of your walk-in closet, barely holding AJ in his arms with one of the decorations from the dining table clutched in his hands. He has a shy smile on his face while AJ looks anything but pleased with his brother carrying him.

“Oh shit,” Mat blurts out without thinking about all the little ears around him.

“Don’t say that,” you say, moving away from him to pull Angel out of Nolan’s arms.

You bend down so you’re eye level with your oldest.

“Nols, you cannot carry AJ. He’s too heavy for you,” you softly reprimanded.

He looks at you with a pout and part of you feels guilty, but you know you have to right his wrongs. He hands you the fake foliage from your table setup, almost as an apology. You accept it, but you also let him know that she shouldn’t take things from your table because he can get seriously hurt. You don’t even know how he got up to the table without falling off the chair, or doing something else to hurt himself.

“But it’s pretty like you. We wanted to give you a surprise,” he explains, his R’s sounding like W’s.

“And that’s very nice of you and your brother, but I don’t need you guys to get hurt, so please don’t do that anymore. I love you,” you kiss his cheek.

“Love you,” he whispers, his head down as he walks away.

-

“Y/n, she’s so gorgeous,” Sydney says as she holds Sloane, sitting next to you on the couch.

Some of Mat’s teammates and their families, as well as his parents and sister, are here to have a little thanksgiving celebration. It’s an early one being that they have a roadie the next day. Everyone has just finished eating, and are now relaxing in various spots in your house.

“Thank you! She’s my precious girl. I was so excited for today because I just knew her outfit was going to look so adorable on her,” you exclaim, cheeks starting to hurt from all the smiling.

Right behind the couch, there’s a plotting Nolan, sitting with his little brother right next to him.

“Angel, we’re gonna go ‘RAHHH’ to, Lo,” he whispers to AJ. Lo is what Nolan calls Sloane.

Angel, who doesn’t have a clue about what his big brother is saying, just giggles but it’s enough for Nolan.

You don’t hear what your oldest is saying, just the soft murmurs and Angel’s giggle.

“What’s going on, handsome. What are you and your brother doing?” You are totally unaware of what Nolan is about to do as you look behind the couch.

“Nothing, mommy. Love you,” he says with his cute smile, blowing you a kiss afterwards.

He waits for you to turn around before he drags AJ by his hands, getting him to crawl with him on the floor. They both jump up in front of Sloane and roar like dinosaurs. Well, Angel just copies Nolan’s actions. Sloane jumps in fear, her eyes growing teary and her lips wobbling.

You’re surprised because Nolan is usually really nice and relatively quiet, so you have no idea why he did what he did.

Sloane’s piercing cries startle Mat, so he quickly makes his way over. You’re already attempting to console her in your arms, but her cries don’t seem like they’re going to stop anytime soon.

“What happened?” Mat asks, sitting next to you and rubbing his baby’s back.

“Nolan just scared her and well we all know that AJ loves to copy his big brother,” you inform him.

Mat calls out for Nolan and AJ follows him as well.

“Why did you scare your sister?”

Nolan just stays quiet.

“That was very mean of you, and you know better. You better not do that again,” Mat says, holding onto Nolan in a hug while caressing Angel’s hair.

You sit there, watching them and wondering why Nolan chose today of all days to act mischievous. Although you're continuing to discipline him, you can’t deny that his little expressions of determination are cute. He gets this little furrow in between his eyebrows and his little tongue pokes out from between his lips. He’s exactly like Mat.

The next time you get up to refill your drink, you see a blur of two shirtless boys rush into the living room with Nolan’s mini sticks in hand. Nolan is shouting as AJ tries to be just as loud. You take a few gulps as you watch them in amusement. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Nolan so hyper. You don’t even know when Nolan took off his shirt; you literally just took him to use the restroom. You’re also assuming he took off Angel’s.

When the group of hockey players come back inside- including your husband -they join your sons and start playing together. Nolan starts going crazy, though. He crawls through one of your husband’s teammates legs and then starts climbing up Mat, initiating a fake wrestling match that slightly annoys you. When AJ starts trying to reenact his brother’s moves, you put a stop to their activities.

“Hey, Barzal!” You shout and both Mat and Nolan look at you.

“This isn’t the ice and it sure as heck isn’t the ring, so stop the roughhousing. I don’t need you guys to wake up Sloane,” you chastised.

Nolan wiggles his way back down, running off again with his hands raised in the air. As expected, AJ follows in his footsteps.

You smile, finishing the rest of your wine. You’re going to need it with how lively your sons are- especially because you’re in heels.

“They’re so cute,” Mat whispers in your ear when he pulls you into a hug.

“They’re so hyper today. What did you feed them this morning?” You playfully ask, smacking at his ass to get him to squirm.

“Stop,” he warns you but you continue.

“Your ass is so smack-able, though,” you giggle until he starts tickling you. Now you’re the one squirming.

“Get used to it, it’s only going to get crazier as they get older,” he says, wrapping his arms completely around you.

“I can’t wait,” you say and you mean it.

“As long as we’re a team, we’ll be just fine,” he kisses your lips and you’re reminded that everything is perfect.

It’s not even an hour later that you hear Nolan’s and AJ’s loud giggles and soft hushes. When you go to find them, you see them in the kitchen and they’re both covered in cranberry sauce. They freeze when they notice you staring at them, their little eyes widen in shock. As you’re about to speak Nolan runs off with Angel following right behind him. You throw your head back, silently laughing at their antics. Not wanting a mess all over your floors and furniture, you chase after them. However, they’re good at crawling and moving through small spaces, so you end up losing them.

“Barzy, your two little spawns ran away from me and they’re covered in cranberry sauce,” you say a little out of breath and clinging to Mat.

Mat stifles a laugh but joins you in your search. After your husband almost slips in the kitchen, thanks to the mess left on the floor, Nadia meets you in the foyer with both of the messy boys in her arms.

“I think these little Mats belong to you,” she laughs.

“You’re so right, they are little Mats. This is the most crazy I’ve seen them,” you say, accepting AJ while Mat grabs Nolan.

“Hey! I was a good kid,” your husband defends himself.

You and Nadia bust out in laughter.

“Shit!” Nolan says, a hesitant smile on his face, waiting to see everyone’s reaction.

“It!” Angel copies to his best ability.

Everyone’s eyes widen and you can tell they want to laugh but know they shouldn’t.

“Yeah, definitely Mat’s sons,” Nadia confirms and you agree.

Later that night after your babies are bathed and tucked in, you sit beside Nolan and card through his hair. He’s very calm now, a completely different kid compared to how crazy he was earlier.

“Nols, you were really… active today. What was going on?” You ask softly, kissing his forehead so he knows you’re not upset with him.

“Missed you,” he mutters, eyes turning sad.

“What do you mean, buddy? I’ve been here all day.”

“You were with Lo! And you held her the entire day,” he explains and suddenly it all makes sense. He was trying to get your attention, and now you feel bad because clearly you aren’t meeting his needs.

“I’m sorry, little man. It’s your sister’s first thanksgiving and it’s so special to me, so I got really excited to dress her up. I love you, Nolan. You’re my first baby and no matter what I will always love you. All you have to do is ask for me to hold you, or cuddle you and I will. Do you want kisses?” You soothe him, bringing his body into your arms.

He nods his head and you give him kisses all over his face until he’s laughing. His precious giggles make your chaotic thanksgiving worth it, and even though your boys were being rascals today, you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Those are memories that you will look back and laugh at.

a/n: This was very hard for me to write and idk if you can tell, but I hope y’all enjoy! Thanks to whoever requested this cute idea<333

[akystaracer22]

Here in the Garden, Let’s Play a Game

Synopsis: A nightmare about paradise, and an attempt to create something new, even the coldest hearts can warm with a careful touch.

Notes

:)

Can you tell I like Adam’s character?

TW: Mild Mind Control, Thought Suppression, and Altered Thoughts in the flashback scene, descriptions of panic attacks, vomit, mild descriptions of gore, unreliable narrator.

As for the latter half: This is what Lucifer meant in Distrust Fall when he said he thought he knew where to start.

Hurt/Comfort

Word count: 3304

Fic under cut!

Adam blinked and pulled his hand away from where it rested against the hide of a boar, where the fuck was he?

Last thing he remembered he was exhausted after another shitty fucking day in hell and went back to his room to sleep, and suddenly he’s in some sort of glade.

Huffing, he gently patted the boar’s side and nudged it up, “C’mon, up you get, I gotta figure this shit out.”

The boar acquiesced easily, trotting away into the foliage as Adam took a look around the scenery to try and figure out where he was.

Long lush green grass that flowed in the breeze in such a way it looked pristine, long natural flower beds carving up the glade in perfect patterns. The trees were a mix of evergreens and impossibilities. Trees he’d never seen together before all coexisting in magnificent harmony.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think he was…

Adam face blanched at the sudden wind that hit his body, his bare body.

Where were his clothes?

“No no no nononono!” Adam gasped and glanced around in a panic; he wasn’t wearing anything. That wasn’t good- shit he needed his clothes!

He flared his wings out to try and use them to give himself some coverage only to be painfully aware of another fact when nothing happened.

He couldn’t feel them.

He couldn’t feel his wings.

Adam twisted around and stared at his bare back in terror, he was missing his wings, wings he’d had for millennia at that point, wings he’d kept even as he plummeted to hell, ruined as they were they were still his they couldn’t just be gone-!

A loud whimper slipped off his tongue before he could bite it back. He cursed, hating the show of weakness only marginally less than he hated being so exposed.

Adam moved forward on unsteady legs, nearly tripping from the sudden lack of weight on his back from his wings. Already he hated the place, it’s perfection reminded him too closely to the garden, just as much as his exposure and lack of wing’s and-

Chink

Adam’s blood turned to ice in his veins at the sound. Glancing down at his right wrist, he found the source.

A small, innocuous golden cuff attached to a similarly gold chain, glowing softly from where it laid against his skin. The chain lead upwards, disappearing into nothingness.

The first man’s breathing quickened as he stumbled forward, instinctively trying to run in the opposite direction of the chain. Shit he was right why the fuck did he have to be right?!

He was in Eden; he was in fucking Eden.

“Adam!”

The first man turned around swiftly at the sound of his wife’s voice, smiling brightly as the angel he was reporting to took their leave, “Eve! My dear you look beautiful as always.”

His wife stopped in front of him, and Adam’s brow twitched, she looked…

Free.

Troubled. Her eyebrows were pressed together, and her shoulders were tense. Her hair looked unusually messy, and her eyes kept darting around as if looking for something.

She doesn’t want Them to see this.

“My dearest, what troubles you?” Adam reached out a hand to her before pulling back abruptly as he noticed something else, Her eyes had darkened to a deep, almost black red. Her chain connecting her to the Lord was absent, “Beloved, where is your shackle?”

“Adam we need to talk,” Is all Eve said instead, moving forward to grab him by the arm and drag him into the foliage surrounding the clearing.

“My dear we must inform our Creator immediately,” Gods first human exclaimed, his chest growing tight the longer he was aware of his partner’s bare wrist, “We are never to be without the shackles that keep us safe this is-”

“Just! Listen to me first,” Eve’s tone shifted abruptly silencing Adam, “I- I know how this looks but I need you to trust me for a second, please.”

“Of course, I trust you dear, but-”

Adam didn’t get to finish as Eve caught his mouth with her own. Kissing him deeply much to the man’s surprise. He didn’t have time to react when something passed between Eve’s mouth and his own and he instinctively swallowed whatever it was.

He heard the shackle shatter a second before his mind caught up to it, sending him reeling at the slew of information that struck him all at once.

Memories that he was forced to forget surged into his awareness-

- A passionate kiss with Lilith under the sun-

- A shared meal with an angel- with Lucifer-

- Him, screaming in agony as God cleaved open his chest and reached inside of him-

-A failed attempt to flee while he was still recovering, still reeling from the betrayal and terror as burning bright magic lashed out and dragged him back-

Adam stumbled back away from his second wife – his second wife how in Eden did he ever forget about Lilith – as the reality of the situation finally caught up to him.

They needed to hide. Now.

“Shit I need to get the fucking apple!” Adam yelled, breaking into a sprint even as he stumbled and had to catch himself on the trees as he ran. Animals didn’t even startle as he ran past because fear was an emotion you weren’t supposed to feel, not in Eden.

How the ever-loving fuck Adam was even able to process this was beyond him, but he wasn’t about to try his luck. All it would take is one moment of Gods attention and he’d be unmade and-

Adam bit the inside of his cheek to nip that train of thought in the bud. He wasn’t going to unpack that right now.

He needed to get to the damn tree.

The first man stumbled into a large clearing, immediately hating the exposure before catching golden leaves in the near distance, turning his head he was greeted with his salvation.

A tree with apples pure and divine. It’s trunk a darker colour than normal and it’s leaves a mix of brilliant gold and blinding white.

Adam raced across the clearing; all sense of caution thrown to the wind because he needed to get to those apples-!

A heavy weight slammed into him, knocking him to the ground before something pierced his leg.

Adam cried out in pain before he could stop himself, craning his neck to try and get a look at his assailant only to go wide eyed at the angel pinning him down.

Or, more precisely, the exorcist. Lute.

She was giving him the same hard glare she only really used for sinners or for Vaggie, the one that screamed hatred with every fibre of her being. The thing in his leg was her spear.

“I don’t know how you scum managed to sneak into the garden,” She snapped at him, vitriol poisoning her tongue, “But you’re not getting to that tree.”

“Shit- Lute it’s me!” Adam yelled, trying not to move his injured leg around the spear even as crimson blood – why the fuck was it crimson?! – soaked the ground, “It’s me Adam!”

Lute studied him and for a moment seemed to hesitate, sparking a glimmer of hope in Adam before it was snuffed out with her scowl returning, “No. You’re not. But you need to be fixed.”

Her halo glowed for a gut-wrenching second, before light seemed to travel down the divine chain towards the shackle.

“No nonono shit stop fuck!” Adam shrieked, abandoning sense and uncaring at how his flesh and muscle tore as he tried to shove Lute off, her spear mutilating his leg further, “Lute don’t let Him fucking do this please!”

The light got closer and still Lute did nothing, Adam could only watch the light seep into the cuff and see it glow lightly before-

Adam screamed as he jerked awake, immediately feeling something in his stomach shift and bile surge up his throat.

He stumbled until he hit a door and threw it open, whatever was in his stomach coming back up as he vomited over the railing of his balcony.

He could feel a weight on his back, and he almost cried as he realised it was his wings, instinctively curling them around himself as he sat there against the rails. He shuddered for a moment, shivering despite the heat.

His leg ached despite the fact that it was a nightmare.

It was a nightmare.

Fuck he thought he was about to-

A hiccupping sob slipped out of him, followed by another as he fell apart.

He thought he was going to die in the worst way imaginable. Worse than when the maid stabbed him, or when he fell or even when he died all those millennia ago he thought he was going to be erased.

Shit he thought he was going to be erased and one of his girls was going to watch it happen.

He would rather fall a thousand times over or be stabbed by a thousand angelic weapons then be erased again.

The fallen angel kept sobbing for a few more seconds before forcing his emotions back down again, he wasn’t about to be caught weak like that. Not here. Once before at the fucking graveyard was enough. He was Adam he was gods first man he was- he was the fucking Adam! He needed to get his fucking shit together because someone noticed. Before someone thought to look deeper and see how much of a rotten shit show he was inside.

He didn’t need anyone to see him this pathetic. Not again, not after last time.

.

.

.

“Adam?”

The first man’s eyes widened, and his head snapped over to the balcony next to his. Shit!

“Luci-fer ah hah why the fuck are you awake?!” Adam scrambled to his feet, wings flaring out to balance him even as he gripped the rail.

The king of hell was wearing what was probably casual wear for him, just a dress shirt, his usual pants and shoes combo, and a vest. His brow was furrowed as he took in Adams sorry state.

“I was working on something- are you okay?” Lucifer spread his wings, crossing the gap between their balconies with an ease that made Adam jealous. Lucifer had fallen just like he did and yet he was the one who still kept his wings, who didn’t have to deal with dead weight and could still fucking fly.

It wasn’t fucking fair.

“Go fuck yourself Lucifer, I’m not in the damn mood,” Adam muttered, stalking back inside and going to shut the door on the devil.

“No, no you’re not running from this not after-”

“After fucking nothing,” The first man growled, turning back to scowl at the king of hell who’d put a foot in the doorway to keep Adam from closing it.

“Adam,” Lucifer sounded tired, which pissed Adam off even more, “I’m not letting this one go. Not after what I just saw. You’re talking about this.”

“I’m sorry, why the fuck do you even care?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, why the fuck do you even care?” Adam snarled, mantling his wings on instinct, “First you fucking clean my wings for me, you keep on watching my back for some fucking reason. Then, you go out of your way to catch me when I fall, why? What the fuck is your angle here why the fuck do you care?”

“Can’t I care?”

“You didn’t care in Eden when you abandoned me,” Adam snapped before freezing.

“Oh,” Lucifer blinked a few times before folding his wings and making them disappear, “So that’s it, isn’t it. You had a nightmare about Eden.”

“Why the fuck would I have a nightmare about paradise?” Adam sneered past the twisting feeling in his gut, “Eden was perfect, the only thing I’d have a nightmare about would be the desolate land I was kicked out into.”

“Except Eden wasn’t perfect,” Lucifer pressed, eyes narrowing at the bluff, “It sure didn’t seem perfect when He-”

“Don’t!”

“…”

“…”

They both stood there, the silence staining the air with Adams stupid, foolish, weakness.

“Come on get dressed, we’re going out,” Lucifer huffed, his wings returning to block the balcony like that was an actual escape route.

… shit he was planning on doing that.

“Fine, piece of shit good for nothing-!” Adam grumbled as he threw open the closet and grabbed his shirt, throwing off his night garb with his mind only quietly screaming at him to put something on because he wasn’t wearing anything. It shouldn’t matter anyway; Lucifer had already seen him plenty of times in the past naked.

Still, he couldn’t have gotten his pants on fast enough.

He shrugged on his coat and put on his shoes before Lucifer abruptly grabbed him and dragged him close.

Before Adam even had a chance to curse at him or break out of the grip a shower of bright gold sparks crackled through the air and a warm wind hit his face. He jerked, stumbling out of the kings hold and striking out with a wing even though he knew Lucifer would dodge.

“Would you not?!”

“Sorry! Sorry,” Lucifer grinned, clearly anything but sorry, “But it was the quickest way to get here!”

“And where exactly is here? Because this just seems like a whole lot of nothing.”

Nothing but rock stretched out in all directions, they looked to be at the bottom of a cliff and if Adam looked up… was that the hotel?

“Are we seriously in the fucking nowhere around the hotel?!”

“Here me out first!” Lucifer spread his wings instinctively, “Just- I have a pitch for you!”

“Get on with it,” Adam bit out, he highly doubted anything Lucifer could say right now would even be remotely-

“A garden.”

The first mans thoughts cut off, before his brain kicked back in and he just stared at lucifer, “…what?”

“A garden,” Lucifer smiled widely, showing teeth without a threat, “You can use this space to grow a garden.”

“Why the fuck would I grow a garden.”

“You loved it in Eden didn’t you?” Lucifer’s smile shrunk a little into something pitying, It made Adam’s gut churn, “I remember how you used to spend hours talking about just caring for the garden. You were chattering on about concepts your mind couldn’t even comprehend yet as you tended the garden.”

“The soil is inhospitable, nothing will grow.”

“They said that about the land outside of Eden as well, and yet look what you managed.”

“You can’t seriously expect me to have the amount of time required to even begin managing the soil let alone the plant life.”

“I’m sure Charlie can be convinced to give you all the time you need in the day!”

“I can’t get down here.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers at the nearest cliff face, leaving Adam to watch as a set of stairs manifested, coiling through the rock and leading up towards the back of the hotel where his girls were laid to rest.

“I’m not exactly in shape asshole.”

“Well, you’ll be getting in shape as you work on this so that shouldn’t be an issue soon.”

“I-”

“You know you can just say you don’t want to do it right?” Lucifer shut the first man up easily with a look, “This isn’t a mandatory thing, you can just say no and go on your merry way.”

Adam knew that. He didn’t owe Lucifer shit and he didn’t have to do this. He could just walk; the stairs were literally right there now. He could just leave.

His feet stayed rooted to the ground where he stood.

“Well?”

Fuck.

“Just give me a fucking hoe already,” Adam sighed, holding out his hand and glaring at Lucifer.

The devil in question looked absolutely delighted, grinning widely and summoning-

“The tool, don’t give me a fucking mirror. You’re not funny.”

“Sorry! Sorry, I couldn’t resist the joke,” In a flash the small handheld mirror was replaced with a steel hoe the first man hefted in both hands. He tested its weight before nodding, it’d do.

“I need grass, pomegranate, apricot, strawberry, pear, some flowers- preferably the kinds that won’t fuck up the dirt any more than it already is. And fuck it- you can throw in some hell species as well let’s see how those fuckers play ball. I’ll need a broad fork to start breaking up the soil too.”

Adam had no fucking idea how he was going to make sure the seeds got enough sunlight to grow but fuck he didn’t have many other hobbies aside from trying it.

He stabbed the hoe into the ground and grabbed the broad fork from the air as it formed, mapping out in his mind what land he’s going to have to prep now and where he can just leave it to later. Maybe he can use the shade of some of the outcroppings to his advantage and Lucifer could create water sources, maybe even an underground river to connect them so there is some proper hydration without risk of contamination…

“You know, those seeds are going to take a long time normally to grow,” Adam looked at the other fallen angel as he talked, “Not to mention how long fixing the land will take, you could be doing this for decades.”

“Are you trying to discourage me from this after I just decided to do it?”

“Not at all! I just… have a suggestion.”

“Go on.”

“I can play with the time down here, make the land grow faster and nurture itself quicker. You won’t age unnaturally despite being dead and return to dust of course!” Luci laughed nervously, “But I’ve worked with the spell for long enough so I’m sure it’s safe.”

“… How sure.”

“I’ve tested it with myself.”

“Luci what the fuck.”

“We both know you would refuse immediately If I didn’t do it,” Luci laughed, crouching down, and placing a hand against the barren earth, “You’d rather die than have anything hurt your plants.”

“They’re living creations in their own right,” Adam snorted, “I’m just keeping them safe.”

“And yet at the end of the day you still eat them same as animals.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t eat anything that also wouldn’t eat me at the end of the day.”

“Pigs.”

“They’ve killed and eaten almost five hundred humans in the past two hundred years.”

“Chicken.”

“Have you met them?”

“Plants?”

“They devour any form of meat buried in the soil near them. Look it up, people have buried pieces of meat near plants needing protein and they devour them.”

“Oh, what the fuck.”

“I used to do it too back on earth, buried any meaty remains in the earth to help foster life once I figured that out.”

“Okay!” Luci’s hands glowed brightly, forcing his own magic into the ground in what Adam could only guess was his attempt at changing the topic.

Adam couldn’t see the change as much as he could feel it. The earth under his feet shifting ever so slightly in accommodation to the fallen angels magic.

Lucifer stood up as the glow faded away, dusting himself off, “Well, as fun as this talk was, I’m headed back up to the hotel. Char Char’s gonna be awake soon and I’m hungry.”

The first man snorted at his old friends bluntness, waving the angel of the morning star off as he disappeared into a shower of magic.

Adam turned back towards the barren wasteland, shaking out his wings and stabbing the broad fork into the ground. If he was going to make the best fucking garden hell had ever seen, he had a lot of work ahead of him.

Notes at the end:

In Eden, the only thing adorning both Adam and Eve was these little golden chains that God used to keep them from acting up like Lilith did, when Eve was created the chains appeared on both of their wrists. When Eve bit the apple, it broke her chains. Then, Eve sought out Adam and got him to eat the fruit and well you know the rest. God doesn’t pay attention to Eve because she was made from Adam so she should be perfectly subservient to Adam’s whims (misogyny amirite?) and thus Eve could sneak away and bite the apple.

Saw this from another fic but Adam was awake when the rib was torn from him because I live for that. The cuff stops him from remembering it.

The chains essentially prohibit the bad thoughts™ so as to keep Adam and Eve from straying like Lilith did. Basically, God is actively prohibiting them from having any true free will.

Lucifer explicitly told Eve to get the apple to Adam because he was mildly crushed by the thought of his old friend having gotten his will stripped from him because Lilith didn’t want to be with him anymore. He’s also hurt by the fact that God felt it fit to strip Adam of any notion of friendship, breaking the bond Lucifer so carefully forged with the first man. Lucifer despises that his friend went from treating him like an equal to treating him like Lucifer was leagues more superior to Adam. All that progress reset without any hope of repairing it.

Adams treatment of Lilith and later Eve was a learned behaviour, mainly because he was just following God’s direction.

The chains aren’t the only symbol of Gods control, Adam and Eve’s eye colours were changed from Brown and Mahogony to Gold, and they glowed softly with divine light.

It also caused the two of them to act more like angels than, well, themselves. This is something Adam grew back into the more time he spent in heaven, gaining the habits of the angels he spent more time around than other winners. It’s something that if he was made aware of, he’d despise.

God I love calling the cuff a shackle, because Adam knows the word and what it means but he can’t comprehend the implications because God won’t let him.

Adam had a lot of propaganda given to him when he reached heaven, mostly that Lucifer tricked Eve maliciously to get at Adam and that Adam was in the wrong for trusting his wife for even a second and all that lovely stuff.

Adams exorcist attire and casual gear all has armour that protected his chest, because he is conscious of the fact that he is missing a rib.

In which author uses way too many hyphens for it to be healthy.

Also, you know how mental health was in the past? Yeah? Good because Adam sure fucking knows :)

Toxic masculinity sure is a bitch isn’t it Adam?

Adam’s an unreliable narrator in the second half.

I’ve done so much gardening research for this holy shit.

My problem is that I can’t write dumb characters without giving them some niche that they’re a genius in. For Adam it’s gardening and animal handling. This guy kept up to date throughout the years no matter what. It’s his guilty pleasure. He even was the man behind many parks and gardens in heaven.

I’m losing the try to get Adam to keep holding his grudge against Lucifer for a little while longer battle.

[genericpuff]

Hello :) Same brush anon as before. I actually forgot a few brushes! Silly me. I wrote that up at midnight and forgot to double-check. Let me amend that.

Watercolors used primarily for backgrounds/transitions (all found in Kyle's Watercolor pack)

Puddle Brush

Soft Irregular Wash Variant

Soft Wash Edgy

Splatter Versa (used in early LO episodes because they look like flower petals)

Pastel, Gouache, and other textured brushes (used either for FX or backgrounds):

Creamy and Creamy Variation (Kyle's Megapack) (These two were used for Eros' abstract wings in early LO)

Gouache Wet (Kyle's Megapack) (This would also be used for Eros' wings)

Gooey and Gooey C (Kyle's Megapack) (used sparingly to create abstract foliage in the background or to add background texture)

Gouache Supreme, Gouache Supreme Opaque, Natural Feel, and Natural Feel Super (all Kyle's Megapack) (used for background texture, the texture on Persephone's fur coat, and occasionally "painting" the clothing onto the characters)

Additional notes:

Any of the seasonal drops (the Fall, Winter, Spring, and Summer collections) include various one-off brushes she's used such as abstract shapes and a few additional foliage brushes. These are unnecessary for consistency but are fun to have if you want to experiment and/or to use for yourself!

Both Kyle's Impressionist pack and the Paintbox section of the Megapack have some interesting oil/impressionist brushes that were used once or twice as background textures in early LO. Again, they are not needed for consistency but can be useful to have on hand.

The Halftone pack is only used sparingly in LO as texture for clothing/fabric. Again, they are unneeded for consistency but can be useful to experiment/use for your own needs.

Happy drawing!

i'm literally so overwhelmed by this, all that time hunting down these brushes and speculating on what we were missing and you just. you have the LO brush manifesto. the holy grail of this community. hiding in plain sight.

i'm so grateful to you anon, please take all of my thanks for sharing all these in all your apparently infinite wisdom, this means so much to me and everyone in this community.

at the risk of asking god for too much, with all the brushes you've shared here paired with the brushes that we know of from what Rachel has shared herself ...

... does this mean it's done? we've found them all? the search is over?

because if that's what you're saying then all that leaves for us now is to just. create. and learn. and create more. and even if these aren't all of them, they're more than we've ever had access to before and you made that possible in ways you can't imagine. i know i'm sounding really fucking sentimental here over what's literally just a bunch of photoshop brushes but every find so far has been like digging up breadcrumbs one by one and you just. you just dropped the whole gingerbread house in our laps, right in time for the new year.

i don't know who you are and i don't know if i ever will, so from the bottom of my heart, thank you. thank you so fucking much.

[pretty-toru]

Satoru comes home at the first light of dawn. His entire body is riddled with fatigue from dealing with what came after escaping the prison realm. His limbs don't seem to want to move as he's standing inside your shared apartment just after he remembered to leave his shoes at the entrance. They're incredibly sluggish and they ache a dull pain and protest at every juncture, every twitch a spasm through his build but he chooses to ignore it.

"I'm home," Satoru says with as much normalcy as though he hadn't been gone for nineteen days, but he knows you've been missing him the whole time he failed to return. He sees the carefully wrapped dinner plate on the table left out for him with a note in case he came back hungry in the night with you sound asleep in the bedroom. The way his sweater tossed over the couch remains untouched because you're afraid you'll wash away what could possibly be the last scent of him.

As the bountiful autumn blossoms and foliage wrapped in paper crinkles in his hold, Satoru's determined to make up the last few weeks to you. He begins his steps with a heavy heart, the sense of serenity and familiarity slowly returning to him as he goes to search for you. When he finds you, he thinks you look a mess with your tousled hair and the slight touch of darkness under the eyes and he could tell you haven't slept very well without him. Even now as your brows are slightly furrowed and you seem almost restless in your stupor.

With a placid drop on the mattress, the weight was enough to jolt you awake but Satoru's hushes of "Hey, my sweet girl. It's alright, it's just me. I'm sorry I made you wait, I am back now," managed to calm you down as you gaze back at the delicate burst of heavenly blues. You think you're delirious but your shaky hand reaches to cup his face because in dreams you can't feel how soft and smooth his skin is, how the heat melts into your touch yet you're experiencing those very sensations you've longed and missed so dearly.

"Oh, it's really you. I've missed you so much, Satoru." You don’t hide the tears brimming in your eyes and lips becoming wobbly as you pull your lover impossibly close into a long anticipated hug. The comfort of his arms wrapped around you tightly and your face tucked into the crook of his neck as your breath falls softly on his chest feels like a sweet release of all your worries and grief knowing that he's safe in your arms and nothing else in the world matters.

"Are those for me? But the florists aren't even open yet." You nod at the lovely arrangement of flowers he had placed aside after tenderly holding each other until you both feel like one. But considering business hours are still a while away you have to wonder how he manages to get his way just to impress you.

"I hope you know this handsome face always gets an exception." You like that he's still the same Satoru you know and love that says dumb and funny things so you savor every moment you can with him. The gentle and playful eye-roll you give him which is always followed by the sound of your sweet laughter makes him swoon. "I couldn't show up empty handed and the ones I got you last time seem pretty wilted so it's about time to change them out, right?"

"I'm glad you remembered. Thank you, I love it."

[strawberrylabs]

Hi! I saw ur reqs are only open for lyney lol and as fate has it I’m DYING for some lyney content :DDD so I decided to maybe put a req!

Lyney x Reader (married? Or not) where they argue right before a big show (please let them make up and forgive each other 🥹🥹)

I don’t have much in mind for the specifics but I do have one where it’s like he has to put up a facade for the audience, but reader isn’t in the audience and everything is just wrong. He tries to perform everything as rehearsed and it looks normal to the audience but to Lynette it’s crystal clear what her brother is going through.

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH!

i can picture it all too vividly- anon you have a fabulous mind!

WARNINGS: spoilers for Fontane Archon quest and Lyney's story quest, arguments, mentions of injuries and a bit of blood

It's not the same without you...

Synopsis: After Lyney and you had an argument before a big show, the magician just can't seem to get his head in the game without you there.

(note: will be written from narrator's POV)

"Why must you always be so insecure?! I've told you before it's part of the performace, (Y/n)!"

"And I've told you before that's fine, but I wish you'd at least remind them that you have a lover!"

This was not the first time (Y/n) and Lyney had argued about how friendly he gets with some of his fans while performing.

(Y/n) gets that his charm is part of the persona he's built known as "Lyney the magician", and he's never gone further than perhaps giving a flower that he made appear or complementing a smile or two. What bothered (Y/n) was that Lyney never told of his fans when they went too far.

One time, after giving a girl a flower out of thin air, said girl asked Lyney if he was free for a date after his show. And from the way she was batting her lashes.. she was after more than just a date.

Instead of reminding the girl he was taken, he simply smiled and said

"I'm afraid I'm unavailble tonight. Perhaps another time."

And from there, more and more of his fans gained the confidence to become more friendly with the magician.

"For the last time, I see no need why I should have to reiterate my relationship status to my fans when it's already clear I am with you!"

"Because they think you don't care! You never seem to show disinterest or even tell them off!"

"Enough! If you weren't so insecure of you average looks and boring personality, maybe this wouldn't be a problem!"

"..What is that supposed to mean? Are you saying you actually are interested in some of them?"

"Lyney! It's almost time for the- show.. uh.."

Lynette frantically looks back and forth between her brother who looks like he's seen a ghost, and (Y/n) who was now crying.

"I'll let you go. Hope the show goes well."

"(Y/n)! Wait!"

Before the magician can react, (Y/n) ran through the doors of the opera, and out of sight.

"Lynette... do you think (Y/n) will still watch the show?"

"I guess we'll have to wait and see. Let's go."

Lyney looked in the direction (Y/n) had run off too, a frown on his face.

Please come back.

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

(Y/n) to the the opera courtyard, and began to walk around the gardens.

The tears slowly stopped falling as Lyney's words repeated over and over.

He didn't mean it did he? He loves me...

(Y/n) heaves a deep sigh as they continue to wonder aimlessly through the opera gardens.

"Ah.. I don't want to miss the show. I should probably head back- Ah!"

The ledge (Y/n) had wandered too gave out beneath them. (Y/n) tumbles through the foliage and flowers, hitting their head on a rock as they come to a stop at the shore...

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

meanwhile at the opera house, Lyney is pacing back and forth during the intermission.

Where were you?

Although Lyney had managed to get through the first half of the show without too much trouble, he was losing it.

The audience couldn't spot the differences between Lyney during his usual shows and Lyney now. But Lynette could.

The way he didn't hold his smile constantly between acts, the way his eyes scanned the crowd fitfully every few seconds rather than smoothly dragging across them.

He was worried. Worried that his emotions got the best of him, that for once his words went too far. He worried that you'd left him.

What if you never came back? What if he hurt you more than he knew and you were crying to yourself someone, thinking he didn't love you? what it-

"Lyney."

Lynette approached her brother wordlessly. She didn't need to ask to know what he was thinking.

"I'm sure they'll be there for the second half. You were a jerk, but (Y/n) loves you."

Lyney smiles at her.

He goes to open his mouth to speak, but is interupted by one of their assistants running into the room.

"Lyney! Lynette! It's (Y/n)- someone found them unconcious by the shore and-"

"Where are they?"

"The gardemek brough them to the infermary here-"

And that was all Lyney needed before he set off running. He can vaguley hear Lynette addressing the crowd, saying something about an unexpected emergency.

But he couldn't care less about the show.

What if you were badly injured? What if someone who wanted to get at "father" attacked you to get to him?

what if your last thoughts were about the awful things he told you?

What if the last thing you thought was that he didn't love you?

He couldn't stand to think of it.

When Lyney rushed into the infermary, he saw you sitting up on a bed, getting you head bandaged by the medic.

"(Y/n)!" He kneeled next to you, hands clasping yours.

"Lyney-"

"By the seven! I was so worried! I thought you had left for good and then I didn't see you in the show and then the assistant said-"

"Lyney!"

He stopped, looking at you as you smiled softly.

"I'm fine. I went for a walk to clear my head is all. Guess I went too far and managed to fall off a cliff."

(Y/n) turns away, their smile falling. The medic finishes up and leaves the room, giving the two some privacy.

"(Y/n)... im so sorry. What I said was out of line and not true! You're the only one I love, and no one could ever hold a candle to you. You're not average, your beautiful! And anyone who calls you boring is a fool! I know you're right about the fans, but I just got.. defensive when you brought it up. I promise to be more vigilant in letting everyone know that you are mine, and that above all I am yours"

(Y/n) once again had tears in their eyes.

"Thank you Lyney.. I needed to hear that."

"Thank the archons. Maybe my brother will stop messing up our show."

Lynette said from the door, causing Lyney's ears to turn red.

(Y/n) chuckles.

"I didn't realise I affected your performances so much"

Lyney smiles.

"Well of course you do! It's just not the same without you watching me."

"Well, I better get to my seat then!"

As (Y/n) goes to move, Lyney stops them.

"(Y/n) before you go!"

"Hmm?"

Lyney pulls them close and carefully presses a kiss to their bandage.

"I love you. More than any show or performance could ever amount to."

You have no idea how tempted I was to make this A LOT angstier-

-Strawberry

Masterlist

rules

[sagethegaywitch]

Dimensions: Pomefiore

Male reader

TW: yandere behavior, memory erasing, posioning, implied Grim death

Genre: yandere

Here's the link for my other Dimensions: Twisted Wonderland Overblots.

The story will take place in Germany, the one from the original “Snow White And Seven Dwarfs” that the Pomefiore dorm is based on.  As the overblot eats away at the characters, they start to resemble and act more like the Disney characters they are based on.  The reader will be called Y/N and Snow White.

I'm sorry if this seems a bit rushed, I was really struggling with this one for some reason. I had to delete the original post cause it had some formatting errors, but everything is fixed now.

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

When you wake up, you feel stiff and uncomfortable, your muscles aching a bit as you try to sit up and stretch.  You let out a yawn and stretch your arms over your head before you gaze around the bedroom.  You don’t remember falling asleep here, but the room is very small and the ceiling is unusually low to the point you can barely sit up without your head grazing the roof.  You move to stand up, but find it near impossible due to the size of the room, so you decide to leave from the equally short door frame.  Once outside the room, you head down the stairs to a much larger and spacious living room.  The ceiling is still a bit low, but you can fully stand up and stretch properly.  You let out a relieved groan as you stretch all the sleepiness from your body and you have to pull your shirt down to avoid it from exposing your stomach.  You look down at your outfit to find a off-white colored poet blouse and dark brown pants.  Both are covered with sewn on patches to cover holes and stains.  You don’t remember going to sleep wearing this outfit, but you actually remember going to sleep at all.

“How curious,” you think to yourself as you try your hardest to recall your last memory.

You come up with nothing, almost getting a headache in the process.  You shake off the curiosity that eats away at you and just decide to figure out where you are now.  You don’t recognize your surroundings, the small cabin seeming odd and unfamiliar.  Maybe going outside to see the exterior would help.  You open the front door and step outside to be greeted with soft light filtering through the tall trees that surround the cabin.  There are birds chirping in the distance and many woodland creatures greet you as you wander around a bit.  The atmosphere is so serene and peaceful that you don’t really notice that the birds have stopped singing until you hear a twig snap behind you.  You whip around to see a black feather plume disappear behind a bush.

“Hello?” you call out hesitantly.

The bush rustles a bit before a blonde-haired man bursts free from the foliage.  You let out a startled yelp as he wraps his arms around you in a tight hug and lifts you a bit off the ground as he rambles in French.

“What!?  Who are you?” you exclaim as you struggle to free yourself from the stranger’s embrace.

“Little Trickster, do not be silly,” he tells you as he settles you back onto the ground, his hands still resting on your shoulders.  “I cannot believe you managed to wander all the way out here.  Were you perhaps looking for me?”

Although he says it playfully, you don’t miss how his eyes shift uneasily around the area, as if expecting you to make a run for it.

“What?  No.  Who are you?” you demand as you carefully hold his wrists and remove them from your shoulders.

The man’s smile drops, turning into a concerned frown, “Has the Trickster forgot who he is?  My, what a funny prank.  But come along, Vil is waiting for you.”

He’s about to take your arm and start leading you somewhere, but you rip your hand out of his and take steps away from him.  His expression looks hurt, but his eyes are like hawks and glare at you.

“I will not ask again, but who are you?  I woke up here without any of my memories.  Do you know me?” you ask more forcibly, putting more distance between yourself and the blonde man.

“So this is not one of your pranks?” he questions, a look of confusion on his face as he tries to decide if you’re lying or not.

“No…at least I don't think so?” you add as he continues to scrutinize you.

“Alright, I believe you,” he tells you after a quick pause before bowing and giving an introduction.  “I am Rook Hunt, the Queen’s favored hunter.  You are Snow White, the Queen’s favorite prince.”

“Snow White?” you mutter to yourself, the name sounding familiar but not your own.

“Yes, and if we do not hurry back to the castle, the Queen will throw a fit,” Rook explains as he tentatively hooks his arm with yours and starts slowly walking through the woods.

The soft lighting guides you through the forested area, some woodland creatures looking over at you curiously but instantly running away when they notice Rook walking beside you.  The woods soon part and you can see a cliff over a lake in the distance.  Nestled at the edge of the cliff is a medieval castle that is white in color with a brick red roof, the stacked spires looked neat and organized.  Rook leads you to a tan horse with a black mane and tail tied to a nearby tree.  Rook unties the rope and stands behind you and before you get a chance to protest, he’s lifting you up and placing you on the saddle.  Rook easily mounts the stallion behind you and lightly kicks the horse’s sides.  The horse starts walking, Rook steering it through the trees and up the hill toward the castle that looms over you.

Once you’ve arrived at the top of the hill and the castle gates opened up, Rook dismounts before helping you down.  The horse gets passed on to a stablehand while Rook ushers you toward the main doors.  The doors are opened by decorated guards and reveal a lavish hallway covered with a deep purple carpet and gold ornaments.  You’re in awe as you walk down, looking all around, trying to absorb all the details.  Rook seems uninterested, probably having seen this hallway a thousand times as he urges you to hurry.  Down the long hallway is another pair of golden doors, with guards standing in the corners.  Rook nods at them before they open the doors, the shiny interior blinding you for a moment.  Once you blink the light out of your eyes, you can see ceiling to floor windows letting the afternoon sunlight in.  The windows are draped with curtains of the same deep purple color as the carpet and are covered in golden tassels and prints.  Once you manage to pull your eyes away from the pretty curtains, you see a prettier man sitting atop a golden and spiky-looking throne in the center of the room.  He’s dressed in a dark purple and black dress with a tight golden corset around his waist and a golden crown that resembles a peacock tail (Vil is in his overblot outfit).  The throne is elevated by a few steps, so he looks down at you both as Rook pulls you closer.

“Your Highness, you won’t believe where I found our Little Trickster,” Rook sounds cheerful, not seeming to grasp the cold atmosphere.

“Snow White, what did you think you were doing?” the Queen speaks, his voice sounding both dainty and stern.

“Ummm, I don’t know?” you say, sounding more like a question.

“It’s horrible, Vil.  He doesn’t remember anything!” Rook wails, dramatically grabbing you and pouting.

Vil doesn’t let surprise register on his face, but his eyes seem to light up in joy, “That’s peculiar.  Hmmm…come up.”

You take a few hesitant steps closer to Vil, standing at the foot of the steps that led up to his elevated platform.  He gestures you closer until you're standing right in front of him, letting out a startled noise as he pulls you onto his lap.  He grabs your chin, turning your head to the right and to the left, scrutinizing your entire face.  He mutters to himself as he pokes certain spots on your face, his sharp manicured nails scraping along your skin.

“You seem relatively unharmed.  Where did Rook find you, darling?” Vil questions as he drops his hand from your face to hold your hand.

“I-I don’t know,” you tell him truthfully.  “I just woke up in this small cabin and Rook found me wandering around in the surrounding forest.”

Vil’s eyes narrow and he has a silent conversation with Rook with just their shifty eyes.  Rook bows to Vil before leaving the throne room, filling you with worry and dread to be left alone with the Queen.

“Well, you’re absolutely filthy, so we’ll have to get you bathed and dressed,” Vil tells you as he rings a small bell that rests on the table beside his throne.

You watch as another person comes through the main doors, but this time it's a petite boy with light purple hair.  He seems a bit pissed to be disturbed from wherever he came from, but he gives Vil a small bow before looking at you, his bad mood seeming to evaporate.

“Epel, would you be a dear and take Snow White to his room and help him freshen up,” Vil orders, looking at the boy expectantly.

“Of course, Your Highness,” Epel bows again before motioning for you to follow him.

You look back at Vil and he gives you an encouraging smile, something telling you that the fondness behind it is not his normal behavior.  You stand up from Vil’s lap and you walk down the stairs to stand next to Epel, the boy grabbing your hand and leading you out of the throne room.

“Where have you been?!  You know better than to run off like that!” the boy scolds you as he drags you father into the castles, walking down a hall with large windows looking into a courtyard garden.  “What were you thinking?!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite remember,” you sheepishly respond, almost knocking into him when he stops walking.

“What are you, daft?  How could you not remember?” Epel huffs, letting go of your arm to cross his arms across his chest with a disappointed glare.

You nervously rub the nap of your neck as the smaller boy continues to scowl, “Well, I’ve lost my memories.  I don’t remember anything from my past.  My earliest memory is waking up in a cabin in the woods and Rook finding me.”

Epel’s rough attitude seems to melt as you tell your story before just sighing and taking your hand again, “Geez, you need to stop getting yourself in trouble.  It’s dangerous out there, but I’ll help you try and recover your memories.”

“Thank you,” you smile at Epel as you two finish climbing up a flight of stairs and he stops in front of a door.

He uses the golden handles to push the door open to reveal a luxurious bedroom with a king sized bed.  The decorations are in that same dark purple color with golden accents.  The windows have the drapes pulled back and you can see off into the forest that seems to go on forever.  Epel has to snap you out of your awe by taking your hand and leading you over to another pair of doors that open into the bathroom.  The bathroom is more bright, with white tiles and a small staircase that has a tub nestled in the middle of it (I don’t know how to describe it, the tub is like the ones you’d see in fantasy movies or like the ones in The Arcana).  As Epel runs the water, you awkwardly wait for him.  Will he stay here while you bathe?  Can you close the curtains so nobody can watch you even though you're on the second story?

“I’ll let you get washed up.  The shampoo and conditioner are there and the body wash is over here.  You can use this towel to dry off later.  I’ll just wait outside, knock if you need me,” Epel tells you before swiftly exiting.

Well, that answered some of your questions.  Now in privacy, you take off the outfit you were wearing and gently lay them aside before slipping into the tub.  Vil said you were filthy, but luckily for you the water didn’t go brown as you washed your hair and scrubbed your body.  You drained the water before exiting the tub and dried off with a fluffy and warm towel before coming to the realization that you don’t have any fresh clothing.  You contemplated putting on the clothing you just took off, but they somehow disappeared while you were bathing.  You find a soft robe next to the sink and quickly put it on before cracking the door open a bit to call to Epel.

“Hey, Epel?  Do you have any clothing I could borrow?” you call out.

“Darling, come on out if you’re done.  We’ll get you dressed out here,” Vil’s voice responds instead.

You peek your whole head out to see all three males waiting for you.  Rook had pulled out the vanity chair and Vil stood with a hairbrush in his hand.  Epel was standing near the wardrobe, looking through the different outfits inside before taking a few out and resting them on a chair.

“Come on, I’ll brush your hair and apply your makeup,” Vil says, gesturing for you to come sit in the chair.

Thankful that the robe went down to your knees, you shyly walk over and sit down, sinking in the soft cushion.  Vil combs through your hair, making sure to gently work through knots and not pull your hair too much.  He arranges your hair in your usual hairstyle, but he makes sure it looks flawless and perfect.  Satisfied, he pulls open the different vanity drawers to reveal enough makeup to fill a store.  He pulls out the basics and applies a little on your face with brushes and sponges.

“You’re perfect already, but I’m just going to accentuate your beauty,” Vil tells you as he applies some lip gloss to your lips before using the tube on his own lips.

After a few more touches he nods before stepping back and helping you to your feet.  He brings you over to Epel who has your outfit prepared and helps you put it on.  By the end of it, your face is red and you're flustered from all the close attention you’re getting from the boys.  You look over in the mirror to find yourself wearing a dark blue shirt that has puff sleeves at the wrists with a white collar along with a short red cape attached to the collar of the shirt and a pair of pastel yellow pants.

“You look marvelous, Little Trickster!” Rook exclaims, giving you a round of applause.

“Indeed you do, but one final detail is missing," Vil comments before gently taking your hand and slipping one of his many rings onto your finger.

You look down at the golden piece of metal and take in the symbol that is placed where the gem usually is : a shield depicting an apple being stabbed by a knife with a crown on top of the shield. It's beautiful, the evening light causing it to shine and sparkle.

Vil smiles as you adore his ring and you look up at him, eyes shining at you say thank you.

"Anytime, darling," Vil pats your head before looking out the window at the setting sun. "And just on time, it’s dinner time."

You loop your arm through his and he leads the group out of the room and down a hallway.  Eventually you find yourself in a large dining room, the long table in the middle set for four people.  Vil guides you to the right side of the head chair and Rook sits in the seat across from you while Epel sits next to you.  Vil settles himself into the head chair before clapping his hands.  The doors behind him open as servants start to bring out the plates.  Once they set the plate in front of you, you’re a bit disappointed to see a small piece of meat and a tiny side of vegetables drizzled with sauce.  Vil and Rook start to eat, but Epel looks absolutely horrified that this is all there is for dinner.  He sends you a disgusted look and you just shrug before digging in, savoring the flavorful and tender meat.  The vegetables taste fresh and are lightly seasoned to perfection.  Although the portion was a bit small, you feel satisfied with the meal and sigh constantly.

“Compliments to the chef,” Rook states before clapping his hands and the dishes get swept away by the servants.

“It’s getting late, and you all need your beauty sleep,” Vil says as he stands up.  “Snow White, we can do some skincare in my room before you go to sleep.  I need to remind you of the strict schedule we uphold here.”

You look outside the windows just to see the sun barely starting to set.  Maybe time moves differently here if 7:00 PM is considered late.  Vil walks over to your chair and helps you stand up before starting to lead you away from the dining room.  You walk back to the area where your room is, but he walks into the one next to yours.  The golden door has an engraving with Vil’s name on it, and he even has a special key to open his bedroom door.  Just as you’re about to enter, Rook runs up behind you with Epel in tow.

“Wait Roi de Poison!  I need to talk to you about something,” Rook calls out.

Rook stops in front of you two, and gives Vil a meaningful look, “Privately.”

“Snow, wait inside for me, this shouldn’t take too long,” Vil tells you as he gently pushes you toward his door before turning around and walking away with Rook.

“I hope everything is okay,” you murmur.

“I heard that there was an intruder in the castle.  But it should be nothing to worry about, Rook is the best shot in all of Germany,” Epel reassures before pulling something out of his pocket.  “Here, in case you get hungry later.”

Epel passes you a small container that smells strongly of apples.

“Thank you,” you tell him before quickly hiding it in your clothing.  “I should get inside before Vil gets back.”

“Yeah, just let me know if you need anything.  My room is just down the hall,” Epel tells you before disappearing down the hallway.

You smile as you enter the room, finding the inside excessively decorated.  It’s pretty similar to your room, but it’s just larger.  You take a seat on the plush sofa, patiently waiting for Vil to return.  You let your eyes wander over to his neatly organized vanity table and his folded bed.  Everything in the room is perfectly placed, just like the man who lives in it.  Now having some time to yourself, you can fully comprehend your situation.  You don’t really know who you are, but these people have willingly taken you into their family.  It fills you with a warm feeling knowing that you have such caring friends who will help you in your time of need.  You jump when Vil barges into the room, but he quickly apologizes when he sees that he startled you.

“Sorry, darling, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he composes himself as he glides over to you.

“It’s okay,” you tell him as you stand and join him at his vanity.

He sits down on the seat before pulling you to sit on his lap.  He starts explaining the skincare routine he wants you to maintain while pulling bottles and containers out of the vanity drawers.  He pats, smears, and dabs different serums and lotions onto your face before doing the same to himself.  To finish it off, he layers a face mask onto your face and forces you to lay on the bed with him to wait for your skin to soak in the mask’s benefits.  You can feel your eyes grow heavy, but you don’t even get a chance to tell Vil before you pass out, mentally and physically exhausted from the day.

~

The soft sunlight filtering from the gauzy curtains awakens you in the morning.  You don’t feel the face mask on your face anymore so Vil must have taken it off for you last night.  Speaking about Vil, you find the male cuddled up to your side, holding onto your waist.  He looks beautiful even in his slumber even though he has hair curlers tangled in his blonde locks and an eye cover on.  He still looks asleep, but it doesn’t take him long to stir as you attempt to escape his embrace.  He groans as he reaches for you and grumpily gropes at the empty space you left behind.  When he can’t find you, he lifts up his eye mask to see you trying to creep out of his room.

“Darling, where are you going?  It’s too early for this, my alarm hasn’t even gone off yet,” Vil complains.

As if on cue, the alarm by his bed starts ringing.  Vil sighs before turning it off and getting out of bed.  He approaches you and leads you to his bathroom, which is almost as big as his room.

“Shouldn’t I go back to my room?” you ask as he grabs a spare toothbrush from a drawer for you to use.

“No, it’s fine.  We used to have sleepovers all the time,” he tells you as he hands you the prepared toothbrush with a dab of toothpaste on top of it.

You both take your time in brushing your teeths and Vil even helps you wash your face and apply some skincare.  Once the whole ordeal of getting ready is over, Vil gives you an outfit similar to what you wore yesterday and guides you out of his room.  You jump as you run right into Rook, the man appearing to have been waiting in front of the door for quite a bit of time.

“Good morning, Little Trickster!” Rook exclaims before addressing Vil a small bow and a “Your Highness”.  “I have so much planned for us today!”

“Will Epel and Vil be joining us?” you ask as Rook grasps your hands and starts to walk away from Vil’s room.

“Unfortunately it will just be you and Epel with Rook today, I have work I need to do.  I am a Queen afterall,” Vil tells you before kissing your forehead and walking the opposite direction.

You wave goodbye to the Queen as you head down another hallway, finding Epel waiting at the bottom of the staircase.  He offers you a good morning and joins you on your other side.  The three of you engage in pleasant conversation that easily transitions from topic to topic as you exit the palace and start to wander around the garden.  You find yourself laughing and chatting among these boys who were mere strangers yesterday.  Your little trio pauses at a wooden gate in a stone wall, which is covered in a thin layer of green vines.  Rook produces a key from his pockets and sends you a mysterious wink before unlocking the door for you all to pass through.  Inside the wall are rows and rows of apple trees all bearing ripe fruits, all being an assortment of colors, ranging from reds to greens to yellows.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Epel asks you.  “This is my favorite part of the castle.”

You can only nod in awe before you’re brought back to the present when Epel passes you a wooden bucket.  He gives you a quick rundown on how to pick the best apples and Rook proposes a friendly competition on who can fill their basket the fastest.

“You two are going down,” you claim before running down a row of trees, laughing as Epel and Rook taunt you.

You grab at the fresh fruit hanging on the low branches and in record time, your basket is filled.  As you start to race back, you hear some muttering nearby.  Thinking it’s Rook or Epel, you decide to sneak up on him.

“Blah, that one’s sour,” the voice exclaims as a green apple rolls out from behind a tree.

“Boo!” you yell as you jump from behind the tree.

Instead of the blonde archer or the petite boy, you’re shocked to find a small gray cat startled by your little prank.  The blue flames in his ears flare up a bit as he jumps like a scared cat.  He’s about to scold you, but when he gets a good look at your shocked face, recognition washes over his expression.

“Human!  It’s you!” the cat cheers as he quickly climbs up your leg and sits on your shoulder.  “Now we can finally escape.  Do you know how hard it is to dodge Rook’s arrows?”

“What!?  Who are you?” you question as you struggle to shake the feline off.

“Human, what is the meaning of this?  Did you hit your head or something?” Grim asks as his claws dig into your shoulder.  “Y/N, snap out of it!  We have work to do!”

You pause, the name triggering something within you.  Suddenly, you remember it all: the overblots, your school, and the friends you have to save.  You accidentally fell through the Pomfiore mirror during the mass overblot event.  You aren’t Snow White, you’re Y/N and you need to get out of here.

“Y/N?” Grim calls out of you, bringing you back to reality.

“Grim?” you respond.  “I-I have my memories back.  That was weird.”

“Yeah, it was.  I thought you were going to leave me all alone to save the world by myself,” he huffs.

“Like I would let you have all the fun,” you remark, smiling at your familiar.

“So what’s the plan?” he asks, getting comfortable on your shoulder.

“I need to meet up with Rook and Epel and get out of this orchid first.  Maybe we can escape in the dead of night?  I’m pretty familiar with the layout of the castle now,” you offer.

“That should work.  So I’ll meet you at the palace door around midnight, human?” Grim smirks.

“Of course,” you grin before dropping Grim off your shoulder and grabbing your apple basket.

You carefully weave your way back to the entrance of the orchid while Grim goes off to lay low for a while.

“What took you so long, slowpoke?” Epel laughs as you enter the small clearing.

Both of Epel’s and Rook’s baskets are filled to the brim with apples, but a few of Rook’s have arrows sticking out of them.

“Sorry, I got lost,” you quickly lie as you place your basket by their piles.

“It’s okay, these orchids go on for miles,” Epel reassures.  “But since I got back first, I won!”

“It’s not fair, you were raised on a farm,” Rook laments as he sighs dramatically.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter cause now we have a bunch of nice apples to enjoy,” you tell them both before picking one up and wiping it on your clothing to clean it.

You’re about to bite into it before it’s quickly snatched from your grasp by Epel.

“Bad apple,” he explains as he shows you the other side to find a large bruise damaging the skin.

As an apology, Epel grabs one from his own basket and tosses you the plump fruit.  You grin as you clean it and bite into the fruit.  The juice instantly floods your mouth and starts to dribble out of the sides.  The flesh is crunchy and crisp, making that deliciously crunching noise.  Epel takes a seat on the grass, pulling out a small pocket knife before starting to carve into the bruised apple.  Rook takes a seat next to Epel, fiddling with some of his arrows, straightening the feathers and sharpening the tips.  Rook gestures for you to join them so you take a seat and rest your head on Rook’s lap, carefully finishing your apple.  You spend the rest of the morning gazing at the sky, pointing out shapes in the clouds while Rook’s fingers raked through your hair.  Just when you’re able to fall asleep, Epel shows you what he’s been working on.  Sitting up, you gently take the carved apple he had been working so hard on.

“Is that me?” you smile as you examine the intricate details in the apple.

Epel’s face erupts in a red blush and he averts his gaze as he nods.

“It looks just like you,” Rook comments as he looks over your shoulder.

“I love it,” you reassure Epel.  “I’ll keep it for as long as I can.”

Epel smiles at your comment before standing up and offering you his hand.

“I think it's nearly lunchtime, we should start heading back inside,” Epel tells you as he grabs his basket of apples.

You nod and lean down to grab yours as well.  Rook moves to do the same but he seems to perk up and looks over to the orchid.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” Rook says, distracted with something in the distance.

Epel just shrugs as he grabs at your hands.  You can’t help but feel worried that Grim might be in danger, but he’s a smart cat and you can’t blow your cover.  You spare one more glance over your shoulder as the wooden door closes behind you.  You follow Epel back into the palace and hand over the baskets to some servants before entering the dining room.  You find Vil sitting at the head of the table again and you take the same seat you did last night.

“Did you have fun today, Snow White?” Vil asks as he flips through some documents he has laid out in front of him.

“I really enjoyed myself.  We got a bunch of apples and maybe I can make some dessert later with it.  What do you think about an apple pie?” you tell Vil, trying to mislead him.

Vil hums in agreement before signing the papers and having some servants take them away just as lunch arrives.  The lunch consists of tea sandwiches and pastries coupled with different flavors of hot tea.  Vil points out a few of his favorite flavors for you to try and even helps you mix in an “appropriate” amount of sugar and cream to make it “healthy”.  Lunch is nearly over when a servant speed walks into the dining room and whispers something into Vil’s ear.  Vil has no visible reaction, but his eyes hold a dangerous glint.

“I’ve just received wonderful news,” Vil says before taking a sip of his tea, his lips pulled into a polite smile.  “Rook has taken care of a little pest of ours who has been running a muck around my castle.”

Your heart clenches, this can’t be about Grim.  You barely register the servants taking the lunch dishes away until the doors of the dining room slam open again.  Rook walks into the room, a large smile on his face and a little skip in his step.  He doesn’t have his bow and arrow, but if you squint there does seem to be some dark smudges on his outfit.

“Snow White, you should be grateful that we have such a good hunter here to protect us all,” Vil tells you as Rook hands him an apple and Epel passes over his carving knife.  “What should we say to Rook?”

You watch as Vil starts to cut the red fruit into even slices as Rook looks at you expectantly.

“Thank you Rook for protecting us,” you murmur, fear and dread washing over you.

“Aw, it was nothing.  Anything to keep you safe, Little Trickster,” Rook grins as he takes his seat.

“Here,” Vil stabs a slice of the apple and holds the knife in your direction.

You carefully take the fruit off the sharp blade before biting into it.  It’s still juicy, but it seems sweeter than the one you ate earlier and has a weird aftertaste.

“Rook, would you like to tell Snow White what you caught today,” Vil sets down the knife and rests his chin on his hands as he looks over at you.

“Of course, You Highness,” Rook seems too excited.  “I found this little cat running around the palace.  He was very difficult to track, but nothing escapes me.”

“What did you do to him?” you have to tread carefully, maybe they don’t know that you were trying to escape.

“I disposed of him as I saw fit,” Rook’s smile took on a creepy energy.  “But he did tell me all about your little plan.”

“What plan?” you ask, thinking maybe you can play dumb.

“Don’t do that.  You planned on escaping and leaving us behind,” Vil states.

So far Epel had been quiet during the entire conversation as he soaked in all the new information, but at the mention of you trying to leave he stands up.

“You were trying to leave us?  After everything we’ve done for you?” he glares at you.

“You haven’t done anything for me!  You’ve imprisoned me here and wiped my memories!” you retort, standing up as well.

Suddenly you feel dizzy, but you brush it off as you standing up too quickly.  But the feeling persists until you have to hold onto the table for support.

“That’s where you’re wrong.  We didn’t take your memory away the first time, but we won’t allow you to remember a second time,” Vil gives you a soft smile.

You don’t even get a chance to ask what the hell he’s talking about as the world spins and you collapse onto the floor.

~

“I think he’s waking up,” a soft voice exclaims, rousing you from your sleep.

You groan, your body feeling icky and a dull ache in all of your muscles.

“Don’t push yourself too much, you were very sick,” Epel’s face comes into view as he helps you sit up.

Epel props you up against another warm body and you lean your head back to see Vil smiling down at you.

“What happened?” you ask, your voice raspy and your throat dry.

Rook, who had been sitting at the end of the bed, holds a glass of water to your mouth and helps you take slow sips of the refreshing liquid.

“I’m afraid that someone had tried to poison you, darling,” Vil sighs, disappointment on his face.  “Luckily for you I was able to make the antidote and Rook was able to catch the criminal.”

“Do not fear Little Trickster, I took care of them.  They shouldn’t be a problem any more,” the hunter says with glee.

“Thank you.  I’m sorry I gave you all a scare,” you tell them, your throat feeling much better.

You get this deep feeling that this is all wrong, that something isn’t quite right, but how could these men be suspicious when they nursed you back to health.  You should be grateful, not afraid.  You just sigh contently as you lean back into Vil’s warm embrace.

“Don’t be, we’re just glad you’re alright,” Vil smiles.  “After all, you’re the apple of our eyes.”