#she got everything and nothing at the same time

[svetamillss]

Headcanons: household chores with them🩵

Featuring: Thanos( Su Bong) x Reader(f), Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Kang Dae Ho x Reader(f), Se Mi x Reader(f)

A/N: If you have ideas about what to write, you can always talk about it!

🩵🩵🩵

Thanos (Su Bong)🖤

Unfortunately, you can have quarrels literally every day because of this. After all, your boyfriend is still a "household disabled person". You have to force him to do something around the house, of course, heavy sighs and indignation will come in response.

Thank God that he at least tries to do it without mistakes.

It happens that you are at work, and he is at home all day. You ask him to wash the floors and do the laundry, of course he promises to do everything in the best possible way, but in the end he does nothing, because he forgot. That's when you get nervous and start yelling at him.

- Well, you promised to do it! You stayed at home all day! Why do I have to clean the house after work? - you said almost crying, because during the day you got very tired and hoped for your boyfriend.

- Don't cry! I just forgot, anything happens! I'll do everything now! - the guy answers you irritably.

- I'll do everything myself, mind your own business. - you were angry with him, so you didn't want to see his help, but he still followed you, taking you by the hand and sending you the room.

- It's my fault that I forgot. I'll do everything now. - and he really started to wash the floor and deal with the laundry.

Cho Hyun Ju💗

Living with this woman is a fairy tale. You immediately divided the responsibilities around the house. You took more cleaning, and she cooks (since food turns out very tasty). Sometimes you change tasks if some circumstances occur (some of you were detained at work, some of you got sick, and so on), but this absolutely does not bother you.

- Baby, don't make any plans for Sunday, please.

- No problem, but why? - you asked her.

- I want to do a general cleaning, and it will take a lot of time, but don't worry, after we do it, we'll watch the movie and eat something tasty. - she said, kissing you on the forehead.

Of course, you agreed, it wasn't a tragedy for you to do a general cleaning. After all, you will still spend the whole day with your Hyunnie.

Kang Dae Ho🩵

Living with this guy is a dream. After all, he was raised by four older sisters, so he is very attentive to you (well, straight by 1,000,000 percent). He is ready to do all the work himself.

- My love, I don't need to help, you'd better rest, you've been very tired.- he said when you volunteered to help him clean the closet.

- It's not fair! You're also very tired for a week, if I help, it will take much less time! - you were indignant, but it worked, although he agreed with a heavy sigh, but you rewarded him with a kiss on the lips.

Thanks to you, the cleaning took about two hours, so you decided to go for a walk outside, after all, the weather was very good.

Se Mi💋

When you moved in, you had a problem about who would do what household chores. After all, both of you weren't really good at cleaning or cooking.

- Maybe we'll do everything together then? Then we won't have any difficulties! - you suggested with a smile, to which your girlfriend gladly agreed.

- It's a great idea, sweet. We will look after each other, at the same time we will spend more time together.

Of course, you sometimes have small arguments, for example, that one of you did not clean up very well and seems to be a little lazy, but you solve them very quickly. After all, you have a good harmony in your relationship.

🩵🩵🩵

[allyricas]

imagine if eddie never got caught up in the upside down stuff in season 4. all the same people are still vecna'd, but chrissy never sought out eddie for drugs at school that day so he is oblivious to everything going on.

maybe he spends spring break playing music with the guys and getting drunk in the back of his van.

or, better yet, he's not even in town at all. he and the other members of corroded coffin are in indy for battle of the bands.

in fact, he literally has no clue what happened until he sees the news about the earthquake and he rushes back to make sure uncle wayne is alright. he's freaking out because when he calls his trailer numerous times, no one answers. he tries calling the plant to look for his uncle and they say he didn't show up to work.

chrissy was too intimidated to seek him out at school even in the privacy of the woods, so instead later that evening she goes to the trailer to look for him. she still gets vecna'd and the trailer becomes a gate.

eddie is never a suspect since he has a verifiable alibi. wayne still finds chrissy's body the next morning and still helps by telling nancy about henry creel. he can tell the teens are about to do something reckless and dangerous so he gets involved and ends up in the upside down instead of eddie.

he turns out to be very handy with various weapons and has a mind for battle strategy thus the party having a much better plan.

they win this time. steve gets really hurt, like nearly dies. wayne is the one who carries him out of the upside down and helps make sure he doesn't bleed out. they form a bond and wayne refuses to leave his side at the lab.

which is why eddie can't get ahold of him.

imagine eddie rushing back into hawkins only to eventually find out chrissy cunningham died on the porch of his trailer and that no one's heard from his uncle in days. he finds out from dustin that his uncle is at the hospital standing vigil over steve harrington's bedside, of all freaking people.

wayne looks pretty roughed up, but he's safe and he's okay. eddie is so relieved to see him with his own eyes that the reality of everything doesn't really sink in.

after everything is settled, the government compensates wayne with a new home. everything could have been a lot worse were he not involved and the earthquake split the trailer in two.

it's nothing fancy, just a three bedroom home on a nice plot of land. it's cosy and there's room for a fire pit in the backyard, maybe even a garden and a chicken coop. wayne manages to make anywhere feel like home, but this place has a certain charm.

once steve is well enough to go home, wayne all but insists that steve comes home with him and eddie. wayne tells steve he has a permanent home with him, that they're family. for once in his life, steve let's himself be loved and taken care of by an adult. wayne is everything his parents could never be.

wayne's heard all about steve's parents, noted that they never showed up to see their son and wayne doesn't want steve rotting alone in his big house. wayne always had a habit of picking up strays after all.

the problem with the situation is, of course, that eddie doesn't like steve. in fact, he absolutely cannot stand him and does not understand why his uncle is suddenly so close with him.

he steadfastly believes in his munson doctrine and has no plans to reevaluate. steve is a douchebag jock. in his mind, there's no way he has actually changed into this funny, dorky man who hangs out with his uncle for fun and drives around the younger teens just because he likes them.

he can't actually be best friends with band nerd robin buckley or close to his ex and her boyfriend. he can't be the man who put his body in front of someone else's. he can't be the man who smiles softly at eddie while he makes his snarky comments and refuses to budge and inch on his dislike.

steve harrington who helps his uncle plant a garden and build his chicken coop. who cooks and bakes far better than some rich kid should be able to. who asks about his band and hellfire and his books. who is far funnier than he has any right to be.

so, eddie is all snarky comments and rolled eyes every time he comes home to wayne and steve watching a game together. he is so jealous and can't say anything since wayne adores the guy...and since steve almost died.

he pretends that all the things he's learning about him must be a trick or a lie. steve can't be this person who fits so seamlessly into his life. even the other members of his band warm up to him

eddie will not budge. nope. never.

wayne knows his nephew. knows that eddie would like steve if he just gave him a chance. watches the way his nephew watches steve and waits for the day the eddie realizes what he thinks is loathing is a lot closer to something else. he loves the boy, but knows what a stubborn ass he can be.

steve likes eddie immediately and thinks he's adorable. he thinks eddie is cute when he's annoyed, enjoys the way he huffs and rolls his eyes. he is content to wait for eddie to catch up. he and wayne gossip over coffee and the subject has come up a time or two (or many) and wayne insists that eddie will figure it out eventually.

imagine a world where eddie never gets involved with the upside down but wayne does. even in this world he and steve are inevitable. wayne sees it the minute he watches them interact the first time in the hospital. he has a feeling they'd have found their way to each other somehow. he knows steve was meant to be apart of their family.

[musings-by-certified-bi]

Zuko of course ends up being permanently shuffled along to where ever the kids are. The women of course would not have let this group of strangers (especially armed, controlling men) near their children anyways, but Zuko acts as a perfect deterrent, since even if you like kids you probably don't want to hang out with the shouty walking teenage angst that is Zuko. The men never realize that keeping him with the kids is the perfect excuse to keep him out of any meetings, and away from any actual questions of how he got there. After all it's not like the men are inclined to include him in the hero fantasy they believe of themselves.

So he's elbowed into being called something else and is waved away as a child from another village they took in. Pakku doesn't even seem to notice how he resembles the exact missing boy Iroh asked the white lotus to keep an eye out for, because he's too busy giving Kanna reasons to finally snap and end him. His attempts at reconciliation are not going well, especially not after he told of her grand kids without masking his annoyance at Sokka's... everything.

Most of the men stay in the rebuilt walls of wolf cove, with a few stragglers leaving to reach out to the other tribes. When the men arrive, the women are well into prepping for winter and while men means more hunters, it also means more mouths making comments on the food. More clothes that need repair (and wearers with no respect for the labor that takes). More interruptions when the storyteller is speaking and not the curious interruptions of the children (including more recently a certain teen) nor the rude interruptions of an indignant prince who somehow chafed less because for all his disrespect he never laughed at them for being silly little girls who couldn't get the details right to simple tales, never mind this is the version their tribe had told for generations and held dear. It means more than a few of the married women without kids get rudely hit on, with the excuse being the lack of betrothal necklaces, followed up by snide comments at their husbands' ability to provide... the same husbands that actually went to fight in the war for their tribe's future.

In little and big ways autonomy from the women was taken away bit by bit. And the children kept asking why. Why not fight back, demand respect? After all the oldest among them know that their fathers didn't act like this, all of them remember Sokka, and even the prince treated them like people (he just happened to be an ass to a lot of people). How do you tell children for all the talk of sister tribes, that this was nothing more than an occupation? Sure one with seemingly good intentions on the surface, but doesn't that just make it worse?

During all this Zuko is sitting in his corner doing chores, with at least one child hanging off him. He of course is baffled at why the same women who had no trouble putting him in his place aren't doing the same now. Until finally one of the women simply asks (after the children are in bed) how that would work. The men are better armed, more trained, not inclined to listen, and it's not like they can leave their home just as winter hits. And suddenly Zuko is reminded of all the times he was told to pick his battles. Every insult Uncle took, every slight at his mother, every time his sister laughed at someone doubting her. Of course he still isn't any good at keeping his mouth shut, and he doesn't agree but he gets it the point she's making. He also is less inclined to try and start arguments once winter hits and Agni is barely present. He learns the hard way how one determines when the day starts during months of dark. The answer is being pushed out of bed by a surprisingly strong old lady, as to not be in Kanna's hut when Pakku swings by.

Eventually Agni returns and Pakku and some of the men leave. The women are unimpressed when no one says why. Clearly something is happening given he got mail before hand. Zuko mentions the comet and a few realizations occur. The most pressing is that this probably means some sort of escalation of the war (hopefully the end of it, but that's a hope that's been shrinking for decades). The other realization is that their fire hazard is going to be extra fiery and despite the amount of times men have walked in on Zuko heating water or giving of steam, somehow they haven't noticed he can fire bend and it's probably best to keep it that way. Which starts the debate of where to put him. Quite a few different suggestions are made but eventually it's decided they'll just leave him in Kanna's hut since Pakku isn't around to try and swing by. There are several close calls during this, but the children come through. They aren't willing to loose their personal heater. Zuko is not apart of the debate and doesn't realize his bending is a secret. Just his origin.

As spring truly arrives the tension finally burst. Hakoda arrives home with his children, his crew and (ugh) Pakku, to find the new wall has had a chunk fire bended out of it, at least 3 northerners knocked out, a water bender dueling a fire bending teen (he assumed the teen Pakku mentioned was... a water tribe teenager and not a clearly trained fire bender) with the children lobbing snow balls and rocks at the fight.. and surprisingly not aiming at the fire bender. He finally gets the fight broken up, asking what in the world is going on. To which Kanna replies that the fire prince was kindly letting their northern guests know that their welcome had worn itself out.

Hi ! prompt idea : What if Zuko was armed during the first episode and was stranded with the water tribe while the avatar left with Katara and Sokka, Iroh on his trail for white lotus reasons.

Oh we are going to have us some FUN with "stranded with the water tribe", say no more.

---

Zuko was dripping, and steaming, and staring down two dozen women and their gaggle of small children, plus that old not-the-Avatar crone from earlier. They were all cowering away from him. Which was--

Good. It was good. If they were cowering, then they hadn’t noticed how steam was not flames. He wasn’t sure he could make flames, not after the arctic water he’d landed in, with that last sight of the Avatar glowing; not after surfacing under the ice pack, after swimming, after kicking slamming breaking through and his ship was gone and there was only ocean all around and

and he’d made it back to this pathetic little camp of the Southern Water Tribe, because that was the only place he knew for sure would have shelter, and he wasn’t going to die just because they were all staring at him, even if felt like he would.

Even if the old not-the-Avatar woman could probably take him, right now. But she didn’t know that.

Zuko pulled himself up, taller than her by at least a few inches, and blew steam from his nose.

“I am commandeering one of your huts,” he said. And added, because Uncle said even a prince should be gracious: “You may choose which one.”

---

She choose her own.

...The only one without children that flames might scar, or younger women to catch a soldier’s interests.

Zuko sat by her fire and determinedly started struggling out of his wet clothes and she was still in here with him--

Zuko pulled one of her animal pelts over himself, and finished fighting off his clothes. When he stuck his head back out, cheeks still reddened from what was obviously the cold, she dropped a parka on his head.

“Dry clothes, Your Highness,” she said.

The parka was much bigger than he was. He fell asleep hoping that the camp’s men were on a long, long hunting trip.

---

He woke up again. Kanna tucked her favorite ulu knife away, newly sharpened, and stopped contemplating the alternative.

---

“I am commandeering a ship,” he said.

The crone led him across the village, all twenty paces of it, to a row of canoes.

“Take whichever one you want,” she said. “Will you need help getting it to the water?”

Zuko looked at the canoes. Looked at the ocean. Watched a leopard seal, easily the size of the largest canoe, dozing just past the ice his own ship had broken through the day before. It was frozen again, a great icy arrow pointing from the waves to the village, snow already starting to cover it over.

Beyond was blue sky and gray ocean and white ice, floating in blocks like stepping stones, like boulders, like cliffsides.

There wasn’t even a hint of gray steel, or smoke. Or any land, besides what they were standing on.

He looked down at the canoes again. Somehow, they seemed even smaller.

“I, uh,” Zuko cleared his throat. “I’ll require supplies. Before I go.”

---

They... did not have supplies. Not extra ones. This didn’t stop them from trying to give him supplies, food and blankets and anything else he could think to ask for. But each blanket was a pelt hunted by someone’s grandfather, had been inked with images and stories by someone’s mother, was the favorite of someone’s husband or brother or uncle or cousin--

They couldn’t go to the nearest market to replace things, here.

And when they talked about food, about what they could spare, they kept sneaking glances to their children, who were sneaking glances at Zuko from the huts, sticking their heads just over the snowy ledges like their fur-trimmed hoods would hide them. Their mothers and aunts shooed them away, and they crept back, like barnacle-crabs. Zuko glared, and they disappeared.

“When are your men coming back?” he asked. “They’re hunting, aren’t they?”

Oh. So that was what they looked like, when they weren’t trying to hide their hate.

---

Zuko wrapped himself up in the same blanket that night. It was printed inside with fine lines and images, telling a story he didn’t know. He wondered whose favorite it was.

---

Kanna wondered how quickly he’d wake—if he’d wake—if she built the fire up with wet driftwood and tundra grass, if she had one of the younger girls boost up a child to plug the air hole, if she let the smoke draw its own blanket down over this fire child.

---

It was hard to know when to wake up, because the sun never set. So everyone was up before him, and they all had spears and clubs and—and nets, and trap lines, and snow googles with their single slat to protect the eyes from snow blindness. Zuko had seen those once, at the Ember Island Museum of Ethnography, where they’d gone when it was too rainy for anything more exciting.

Oh. They were going hunting.

“Give me that,” Zuko said, and took a spear.

The women looked at him. One of them adjusted her googles.

“I can hunt,” he scowled.

He did not, in fact, know how to hunt.

---

“Give me that,” the Fire Prince said, and Kanna almost, almost gave him her ulu. Humans, like most animals, had an artery in their legs that would bleed them quick enough.

She kept skinning the rabbit-mink one of the women had snared.

“I can help,” he said, with less grace than most of their toddlers. Likely with the skinning skills of a toddler, too. She wasn’t going to let their unwanted visitor ruin a perfectly good pelt.

“Chop the meat,” she said, and gave him a different knife. “It’s dinner.”

“...This is really sharp,” he said a moment later, looking at the knife with some surprise.

“Is it,” said Kanna.

---

Things the Fire Prince was convinced he could do: hunt (until he realized he couldn’t tell the tracks of a rabbit-mink from a leopard-rabbit apart); spear fish (at least he could dry himself); pack snow for an igloo (frustrated princes ran hot); ice fish (the prince was a problem that kept coming close to solving itself).

Things the Fire Prince could actually do: mince meat, increasingly finely; gather berries and herbs, once he stopped trying to crush them; dig roots, under toddler supervision; mend nets, after the intermediary step of learning to braid hair loopies.

“Can’t I take him ice fishing again?” asked one of the women, as she watched Prince Zuko put as much apparent concentration into braiding her daughter’s hair as his people had into exterminating hers.

“Wait,” said another woman, sitting up straight. “Wait wait wait. I just had an idea.”

---

Three words: Infinite. Hot. Water.

---

Summer was coming to an end. The sun actually set, now, and the night was getting longer, and colder. The salmon-otter nets were mended and ready. The smoking racks were still full of cod-lemmings. The children were all a little older, the women all a little more used to doing both halves of their tribes’ chores; a little more used to not watching the horizon, waiting for help to come.

The Fire Prince was staring at the canoes again.

“Are you actually going to try leaving in one of those?” Kanna asked.

“...No.”

“Come on, then; someone needs to watch the kids while the women are hunting.”

She didn’t leave him alone with them, of course. But she could have.

---

Elsewhere, the war continued.

The moon turned red, for a moment none could sleep through; they did not learn why.

The comet came and went, leaving their castaway prince laying on the beach, his breath fogging up into the night sky above him, as the energy crashed from his system as quickly as it had come. Above, lights began to dance in the sky; Zuko pulled his hood up, so none of those spirits—children, dead too soon—got any ideas about kicking his head off to be their ball.

The war had ended. The world didn’t feel any different; no one in the south would know until spring came again.

---

Suffice it to say, Sokka and Katara were not prepared for this particular homecoming.

[brattyspence]

nothing matters | s.reid

summary: when reader catches her boyfriend cheating, she’s quick to run right back to spencer, even if she once swore she’d never do it again. he just has a way of making her forget about her troubles.( loosely based on lyrics of ‘Nothing Matters’ by The Last Dinner Party)

tags/warnings: pure fucking filth (at least for me), fem!reader, afab!reader, soft dom!spencer, lowkey asshole spencer, reader makes bad decisions and is aware of it, situationship, reader gets cheated on, minimal foreplay bc reader is horny af. 

a/n: um. so. about that.

word count: 1.7k

playlist i made just for this!

masterlist

"And you can hold me like he held her,

And I will fuck you like nothing matters."

-

Getting involved with Spencer was more complicated than you’d hoped. 

It had started as mindless sex. It was no secret that your job was stressful, and you both lacked the time and emotional availability to truly maintain a relationship. Still, after spending days running around and chipping away at a case, it seemed that the only real way you could unwind was by getting in his bed. 

There were logical explanations for why the sex was so, so good. You both understood what the other had gone through each day, and the way that each case would sit heavy on your minds. Spencer was keenly aware that you were not in the mood to talk when you got home. What you really wanted was to turn off any part of your brain that could think, and let him rearrange your guts until you were too tired to remember any of the details of the day. 

The arrangement worked until it didn’t.  

You’d met someone else; someone you believed could give you everything you wanted in a relationship, and quickly called things off with Spencer. The friendship you’d once shared had crashed and burned in an instant. Spencer couldn’t understand why you thought you would suddenly be capable of a relationship with someone else, and this only fueled the growing frustration you’d had with him.

Recently, you were seated across from one another on the jet, your feet tucked up under you on the seat, boots kicked off and strewn somewhere under you. You were engrossed in something, reading texts on your phone with narrowed eyes. 

“You okay?” he asked. He flipped a page of his book, looking up for a moment. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, eyes lingering on the device for a moment longer than he’d have liked. “Boyfriend. It’s nothing.”

“Is everything…alright?”

You nodded, chewing the inside of your lip. “Yeah.” 

Spencer couldn’t figure out why you stayed with him. Even if he didn’t know the extent of the situation, it was clear you were unhappy. It wasn’t something you’d ever been too careful to disguise. He couldn’t seem to figure out why you’d never pull the trigger and admit you were wrong. Part of him was convinced you were holding on out of spite.

“You always avoid that question,” he noted.

“I said ‘yeah’. I answered.”

“Hm.” He seemed to hold your gaze for a moment before picking up his own book again. 

“Spencer,” you replied, your tone biting. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” He didn’t look up when he spoke this time.

“Judging.” 

“Not judging,” he replies. “Just waiting for you to admit you were wrong.”

Now, here you were, standing in the doorway to your own apartment, keys in hand, watching the reality of your impulsive decision unfold right in front of you. Another woman in your apartment, in your bed, with the same man who had promised to treat you better. 

All rational thought seemed to escape you in an instant. Before you had time to process, you were flying through the stairwell and out into the night, your feet carrying you quickly to the one place you swore you’d never be again. 

The cold night air didn’t bother you as you hastily made your way through the streets. You weren’t aware of the tingling cold that bit your nose and cheeks, but instead you were so caught up in the rising heat and mix of emotions that were threatening to spill through your tear ducts and onto your face. 

Within the next ten minutes, you were standing outside his door, rocking on the balls of your feet. You only had to knock once before the door opened. Suddenly, the intense quiet of the street behind you seemed to be all too loud. 

Spencer looked you over once, that same smug look on his face. 

“So?” he asked. “Tell me I was right.” 

“Oh, would you please-”

“I know. I know. Sorry. Come in.” 

You crossed the barrier of his doorway with less hesitation than you'd expected. 

You watched as he shut the door behind you, the solid clunk of the lock a reminder of the decision you were about to make.

“So… what happened?” He asked.

You shook your head. “I don't want to talk about it.”

He took a step closer, and you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. 

“You don’t want to talk at all, do you?”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. 

“So tell me what you do want.”

He took another step closer, the gap between your bodies becoming increasingly smaller. He knew exactly what you wanted, and he was determined to make you spit it out. You narrowed your eyes at him, annoyed that he had to make everything so difficult for you. 

“Drop the attitude,” he said, his voice low. “And use your words.”

You swallowed, bracing yourself for what was to come. You took another breath before finding the right words. 

“Spencer,” you breathed. “Will you please just fuck me?”

“Mm,” he hummed.  He was already tugging your coat off by the sleeves. “So polite. That's not like you.” 

You thought better than to quip another remark back his way this time, instead letting him pull you further into the apartment. You offered no resistance as he guided you through the doorway of his bedroom, spinning you around to catch the foot of the bed against the back of your knees. You let yourself fall against the mattress with an exhale. 

You quickly kicked your shoes away, letting them fall to the floor with a thump. Spencer had already climbed over you by the time you settled against the bed. He carefully slipped one hand just below the hem of your shirt, fingertips barely skimming your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

“You ready for these to come off?” He asked, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your jeans. 

“Mhm,” you nodded, quickly tugging the button undone.

“Eager,” he chuckled, pushing your hand away. “I got it. Relax.”

You watched as he undid the button with practiced ease, then quickly tugging away your jeans entirely to discard somewhere on the floor. With one hand holding his weight over you, the other continued its path up your side, pushing your shirt further up your stomach.

“You sure you want to do this?” He asked. 

You knew the implications. Nothing had changed, of course. You'd do this, and things would still be the same. Spencer was adamant about refusing to settle down. 

It would hurt tomorrow.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Really sure.”

“You're not gonna regret this?”

You huffed. “Yeah, I’ll regret this. It doesn't matter. I just need you to fuck me..”

 “I know,” he replied, settling his hand against your side. “Like nothing matters.”

You nodded again, impatience creeping back into your body. “Now.”

You heard him chuckle softly, and he quickly disappeared from your line of sight. You stared at the ceiling fan as it spun lazily above you, and listened to the soft sound of rustling fabric, anticipation gnawing at your bones. You were quick to lift your hips when he queued you, letting him remove your underwear in one swift movement. 

 You let him pull you closer to the edge of the bed, his hands sitting firmly over your hipbones. 

“Look at you, honey,” he breathed, running a thumb slowly over your core. “Missed me that bad?”

“Oh, shut up,” you groaned. “Just-”

“Is that how we ask for things that we want?” He asked, leaning in. 

You sighed. “Please?”

You watched with half lidded eyes as he carefully lined himself up, pushing himself slowly inside of you. He continued rubbing circles against your clit with one thumb, easing the growing ache of need between your legs.

“That's okay?” He asked.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Please move.”

You weren't quite prepared for how good he would feel after so long apart. The sensation caught you off guard, leaving you unable to control the desperate pleas for “more more more” that spilled from your lips. 

“There’s my girl,” he cooed. “So good. I knew you were still in there.”

Spencer moved one hand from its spot gripping your hips, instead tucking it against the back of your neck, anging your head up just enough to force your gaze on him. 

“Can you- more, please?”

“More? You sure?”

You nodded, bringing one hand to hold onto his arm. “Mhm. More. Please.”

If the goal was to fuck you until you forgot why you came, he certainly succeeded in that. You squeezed your hand against his arm, holding on for dear life as each thrust pressed you against the mattress a little further.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” he breathed. “So, so good, baby.”

Spencer knew exactly where he had you. Your nails were just beginning to dig into his skin with the familiar sting you always left him with. He watched the flush of color in your cheeks slowly darken as the seconds ticked by. 

“That’s… please don't stop, Spencer. Please, please, please,” you whined.

“I know,” he replied. “I've got you, baby. You can let go.”

Sure, he'd made you come dozens of times before, but there was something about the circumstance that made today more intense than before. You were only half aware of your body, seemingly lost somewhere between your brain and outer space. By the time you were just beginning to drift back into your body, he was still pressed into you, breath heavy with the aftermath of his own orgasm.

As you lay against the mattress in the minutes following, nothing seemed to be going through your head. This was exactly what you came crawling back to him for. 

You felt the soft touch of his hands again as he quickly cleaned you up. 

“You feel okay?” He asked, carefully climbing back over you. He pressed one final kiss against your stomach before settling down on the comforter next to you. 

“Mhm,” you mumbled. “So good.”

Spencer chuckled, turning his head towards you. “I can't believe you waited for that guy to cheat on you before coming back to me.”

You could have given him a hard time about it, or gotten upset all over again about his lack of willingness to commit. The point was though, you wanted him to fuck you like nothing mattered. That was exactly what you got.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

LEGO TYPE OF LOVE..

PAIRING: nerd!anakin x f!reader

𝓕𝓛𝓤𝓕𝓕 ❦

────୨ৎ────

Summer - beaming sun, chirping birds, early mornings, heat up air..Yet for ANAKIN SKYWALKER it wasn't an excuse to not dress officially to school. Shirt pressed so perfectly you could cut yourself on the creases, tie snug against his collar, and his jacket, despite the heat, still near him, tied around his waist as it swung neatly around his legs as he walked. You hold his hand the entire way, fingers tangled with his, feeling the slight clamminess of his palm--a tell-tale sign he’s nervous, even if he’s trying to play it cool.

“Are you hot in that?” you teased, trying to lighten the tension

He shrugs, lips twitching like he’s fighting a smile. “I’m fine. I--it’s… comfortable.”

You snort softly, squeezing his hand. “Sure it is.”

When you get to his house, Anakin barely got the door open before a high-pitched squeal echoed from inside. Suddenly, a whirlwind of giggles and energy crashed into you, and you’re almost knocked off your feet.

“You’re here! I can't believe it! Ani finally brought you back! This time nothing will tear us apart” her lips curling into, what you interpreted, as too-excited and too-scary smile

Little Ahsoka clung to your legs, small arms squeezing you as tight as she could. With big eyes sparkling as she started babbling about everything that’s happened since the last time she saw you.

“I coloured a picture for you! Wanna see it? Wait, no! Look at my braid! Mom did it! Do you like it? Are you staying for dinner? Pleeease stay for dinner!”

Anakin watched the scene while taking his shoes off, muttering something about your feet being cold if you're not gonna put on some light shoes he had offered. He's trying to gently make ahsoka acknowledge the meaning and purpose of your appearance but the eight year old just furrows her brows, before taking you by hand and dragging you already further into the house.

Anakin already groans and there's a small argument between him and Ahsoka about who you should spend time with, before Shmi overheads the chaos going on, ans gets downstairs. Her face lighted up the moment it landed on yours, and she greeted you by pulling you into a gentle, motherly hug. “It’s always so good to see you, dear,” she said warmly, voice warm like a sunshine outside “I hope you’re staying for dinner?”

Before you can answer, Anakin caught the opportunity and gently tugged at your hand, pulling you away from his family. “Maybe later,” he mumbled before you could even reply, cheeks pink as he glanced towards the stairs. “We, uh… have some stuff to do. So..uh..we're gonna be upstairs..and mom please keep 'Soka away” he whined

Shmi gives him a knowing smile, gently taking Ahsoka's hand so they'd go to the garden as Anakin pulls you up to his room.

As soon as the door shuts behind you, he’s kicking off his shoes and flopping onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. He looks at you expectantly, already patting the space next to him.

“Come here.”

You don’t even get a chance to sit properly before he pulls you down beside him, wrapping his long arms around you like a human octopus. Nose nuzzled into your hair, and he exhales a content sigh, entire body relaxing against yours.

"you've made quite a scene" you mumble teasingly, although with a hint of true

"I just want to cuddle..forget about this awful day.." he numbled, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. "And with 'Soka being too excited to see you I'd not even be able to breath the same air as yours.."

Time passes by and, somehow, he shifted--he’s on his back now, and you’re lying on his chest, cheek pressed to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. One of his hands stroked your hair while the other rests on your hip, holding you close like he’s afraid you might disappear.

“I was thinking…”

You hum softly, fingers toying with the buttons on his shirt. “Hmm?”

“Maybe…” He hesitates, and you tilt your head to look up at him. His cheeks are a little pink as he clears his throat, giving you the perfect view for his adam apple. “Maybe we could play Lego's?”

You blink, surprised. “Lego's?”

“Yeah,” he says quickly, voice a little defensive now. “I’ve got a huge collection. I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to, but—”

You laugh softly, cutting him off with a kiss on his cheek. “I’d love to, Ani.”

His face lighted up, a boyish grin spreading across his lips, but then he frowns slightly, tightening his hold on you.

“But…” He pouts “I don’t wanna stop cuddling yet.”

You giggle, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “We can cuddle and play with LEGO, you know.”

He raises an eyebrow. “How does that even work?”

“I have no idea know,” you whisper, smiling. “But maybe if we do find out, they'll start writing about us in books" which only makes him giggle

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca

[prettylilyanime]

Blooming Hearts ♡ Chapter 01

˚✿˖ Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem reader

˚✿˖ Synopsis: All your life, you’ve had it all—wealth, beauty, and a quirk good enough to secure your spot at UA. But after three years, you still feel more like an outsider than a future hero. Social life? Barely existent. Friends? Who needs them? You’re ready to coast through your final year solo… until fate lands you squarely in the lap of a certain hot-headed blonde—literally.

˚✿˖ tags/warnings: 18+, smut in the later chapters, reader is spoiled, shy reader, they're all third years at UA, Fluff, strangers? to lovers trope, not really strangers, miscommunication, drama, y/n just wants to make friends, reader is canonically pretty, reader is a hero in training, whipped bakugou, she falls first but he falls harder

˚✿˖ Masterlist ♡ Previous ♡ Next

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The first days of school are supposed to be exciting—or at least, that’s the idea you’ve gathered from TV shows and a few overly romanticized books.

But for you, ever since you first walked into your pre-k classroom in shiny Mary Janes, it’s been the same story. Year after year, right up to today, in your polished Chanel loafers, you’ve loathed it.

If anything, it’s your least favorite time of year.

Everyone is too happy. Too enthusiastic about seeing each other. People making plans left and right, hugs, laughter—none of it involves you. You’re left to sit and watch, stuck in your silent little bubble while the world keeps spinning around you.

Not that anyone’s being intentionally cruel. No, you know this is more on you—on your quiet, awkward nature that seems to freeze any potential interaction before it even has a chance to begin. So you can’t really blame them when, even as you sit dead center in the classroom, your classmates talk over and around you like you’re invisible.

You sink lower in your seat, hoping it isn’t too obvious how Kaminari is leaning across you to chat with Kirishima, who’s seated just behind you. Each laugh and cheerful exchange only makes you feel smaller.

God, you hate day one.

Class doesn’t officially start until 8:45 a.m., but your alarm—set to chime with soft jingles—woke you up at 5 a.m. sharp.

You went through your entire morning routine with the precision of someone preparing for a photoshoot: exfoliating every inch of your skin with vanilla-scented soaps imported from France, carefully styling your hair to perfection, and spending far too long at your vanity.

A layer of sparkly gloss on your lips, clump-free mascara on your lashes, pink blush dusted on your cheeks, and the lightest touch of pearl shimmer on your nose—everything had to be just right.

Even picking out your outfit took an hour, despite the fact that it’s a school uniform, and no one’s likely to look twice at what you’re wearing.

Still, it boosts your confidence, makes you feel like you’ve got some control. Your black designer loafers and knee-high black socks set you apart from your classmates, most of whom stick to the standard brown shoes provided by the school.

Your jewelry is minimal but elegant—sparkling diamond studs in your ears, a small stack of delicate rings on your fingers, and a few simple bracelets on your wrists. Beneath your uniform blouse, a dainty diamond pendant rests against your chest.

Yet, even with all that effort, you still feel small, like your presence is nothing more than background noise. You stare blankly at your desk, drowning in the chatter of the classroom around you.

“Bakugou! What’d you do this summer, man?!” Kaminari’s voice rings out, pulling your attention.

Your gaze lifts to the boy sitting at the front corner of the room, his expression as uninterested as ever. Bakugo barely spares Kaminari a glance before responding in his usual blunt tone. “I trained and worked with best jeanist, dunce face. You were there for most of it.”

Dunce face. If Bakugo ever called you something like that, you’re pretty sure you’d have an existential crisis right then and there. But Kaminari? He just laughs, brushing it off with a carefree grin, as if Bakugo’s blunt insults are part of his daily routine.

The boys keep up their banter, the sound blending into the general noise of the classroom while you sit quietly, feeling like a shadow in the background—there, but barely noticed. Just another morning, same as always. That is, until something weird happens.

“What about you, Y/N? Did you do anything fun?” Kaminari asks, suddenly turning toward you.

You blink, your brain stuttering to process his words as the chatter around you dies down. All eyes shift toward you, and you feel the heat rising to your face. Instinctively, your hands clam up, but you fight the urge to shrink away, forcing yourself to meet Kaminari’s expectant gaze.

“I, um… I traveled.” Your voice is soft, hesitant, and wow—could you sound any less enthusiastic?

You glance around nervously, your eyes flicking toward Bakugo. As expected, he looks utterly disinterested, his expression blank as if he’s already tuning you out. Figures. 

Swallowing down the tightness in your throat, you turn back to Kaminari, offering a tense smile. “Across Europe. I… brought souvenirs for everyone.”

For a moment, there’s silence.

Kaminari’s yellow eyes widen in genuine surprise, and Kirishima looks equally taken aback. You can tell they hadn’t expected you to say much—let alone reveal that you’d thought to bring back gifts for them. You’re not exactly known for being vocal, and this is probably the most they’ve ever heard you say at once.

“Oh, that’s really cool!” Kirishima beams, his usual warmth shining through as he gives you an approving nod. “You didn’t have to do that, though!”

“Yeah, that’s super nice of you!” Kaminari adds, grinning widely. Beyond his dumb antics, the electric boy really does have a sweet smile to him, and for a second, the tension in your chest eases just a little.

You shift awkwardly under their attention, unused to being in the spotlight like this with your peers. “It’s nothing, really. I can give you the gifts after class,” you mumble, waving a hand dismissively, even though your heart is pounding in your chest.

“So cool! What countries did you go to?” Kaminari asks, leaning in slightly with genuine interest.

“Well, I stayed at my grandparents’ vacation homes, so mostly Western Europe,” you explain, your manicured hands practically clawing into your skirt as you try to project calmness.

“What’s this about Western Europe I hear?! That’s so cool, Y/N!” Mina suddenly bounces into the conversation, and your heart practically drops out of your chest. How does she so easily swoop into conversations she wasn’t even part of? You know these are her friends, and she’s comfortable with them, but still—you can’t help but admire her confidence.

“She was there over the summer, and she got us gifts too!” Kaminari shares excitedly, as if you aren’t sitting right there. Your cheeks burn violently under the sudden attention.

Bakugo stays silent, leaning back in his chair with a bored expression, but you swear you catch the briefest flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes before he looks away. Maybe it’s your imagination, you tell yourself, but it doesn’t stop your mind from swirling.

Mina gasps and clasps her hands together. “Wait, you got us gifts? That’s seriously so sweet! Thank you, Y/N!” she chirps, her gratitude genuine.

You manage a tense smile, nodding politely, but before you can reply, Sero chimes in with a grin. “So you stayed at a vacation house too? Gosh, that sounds way cooler than ours. We were only there for a week.”

Your brows raise slightly. They all went on vacation together?

“Hey, we can’t complain,” Mina snorts, nudging Bakugo, who scowls in her direction. “It was on the beach, and we had Chef Bakugo at our service the entire time.”

“At your service is bold as fuck to say, Raccoon Eyes,” Bakugo scoffs, arms crossing in a way that only somehow makes him look even bigger. “If I hadn’t cooked, you all would’ve starved on cups of ramen.”

Your eyes, if they could, would sparkle at the visual. How does he even fit in his uniform?! His arms strain against the fabric of his sleeves, and the way his blazer clings to his broad shoulders almost makes you forget how much you hate first days of school.

You catch yourself staring for a second too long and quickly look away, heart pounding. Seriously, calm down. You don’t have a crush on Bakugo. You can’t have a crush on Bakugo. It’s not like he even knows you exist—aside from right now, where you’re sure he’s more focused on the conversation than you.

But still… he’s hard to ignore.

Denki, in his usual silly mood, throws himself into an exaggerated pose, dramatically praising Bakugo as though the blonde had single-handedly saved his life on that trip. “Our fearless leader Bakugo, slaving over a hot stove so we didn’t perish!”

Bakugo rolls his pretty red eyes, muttering something about “idiots” under his breath, and somehow the sight sends your heart into a chaotic rhythm again. God, I need to get ahold of myself.

Conversation flows smoothly without you really, but you still sit and smile, at least somewhat involved which is more than what you've really ever gotten- though it's interrupted by the sight of Aizawa opening the class doors.

“I want to see the progress you’ve all made over the break. You have 15 minutes to put on your costumes and meet at the training arena. Don’t waste time.”

Your brows lift slightly in surprise at the sudden announcement. A performance test, right off the bat? Instinctively, nerves creep in, but they’re soon replaced by a flicker of excitement.

You can’t wait to put on your new costume. Your mother had pulled some serious strings to have it custom-made by her design team, and you’ve been itching to see how it feels in action.

Grabbing your suitcase, you fall in line with your classmates, heading toward the locker rooms. Once inside, you quietly move to a far corner, grateful for the privacy. You flip open the suitcase, and your heart lifts as your eyes land on the carefully folded fabric inside.

The bodysuit is breathtaking—an iridescent pink material that seems to shimmer with every shift in light. Attached to the waist is a short skirt shaped like delicate flower petals, each edge subtly sparkling as though dusted with stardust. It’s both beautiful and practical, designed to move with you and enhance your quirk.

With steady hands, you slip into the form-fitting suit, the breathable fabric molding to your body perfectly.

You adjust the petal skirt, ensuring it falls just right, before sitting down on the bench to put on your boots—sleek, sturdy, and designed for agility. As you lace them up, you take a moment to glance down at your fully assembled outfit, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

It’s more than just a costume—it’s a statement of everything you’ve worked for, a tangible reminder of how far you’ve come.

Already, little girls across the country are asking for dolls that resemble you, despite the fact that you haven’t even graduated yet. Your internship at your mother’s prestigious hero firm is impressive, sure, but it's your image that truly captures the public’s attention.

After all, who could resist a hero who looks like a princess, wielding a quirk that blooms like pink flower magic in the midst of battle? It’s easy to see why your visual appeal has taken center stage—there’s something undeniably captivating about a hero who sparkles as much as she fights.

It’s surreal, considering the incredible feats of your classmates, that you're one of the ones that are being eyed most.

Todoroki, Midoriya, Bakugo—they’ve long since cemented their place among the best, their power unquestionable.

Yet, somehow, you've found yourself thrust into the spotlight, unexpectedly pushed forward as one of the frontrunners in the public eye from your graduating class.

It’s almost ironic, considering how incapable you are of even talking to your classmates. You’re not as strong as they are—not by a long shot. You don’t have their raw power or battle-hardened skills.

But in a world where appearances sometimes speak as loudly as strength, your presence has somehow captured the hearts of the country.

Again, painfully ironic.

You stand and smooth the glittering fabric of your bodysuit once more. Taking a steadying breath, you step toward the mirror. With a flick of your wrist, your quirk activates.

Delicate cherry blossom petals glow softly, the faint pink hue shimmering as they materialize from your hands and float effortlessly through the air. They slot themselves into your hair, pinning back the front pieces with the kind of precision you’ve long perfected.

So cute!!

“Oh Y/n, you look so good!” Ochako gushes, her eyes wide and sparkling as she clasps her hands together. Your cheeks flush at the attention, feeling the heat rise as if all the energy of the room is focused solely on you. The sheer amount of social interaction today has already left you feeling a little winded, but you force a smile, the best one you can muster.

“Thanks, Ochako,” you reply, gesturing to her newly upgraded bodysuit in black and pink. “You look great, too.”

In fact, everyone looks great. It’s surreal, really.

To think back to when you all first started, and now, seeing how much you've all grown—both in your abilities and in how you carry yourselves. It’s a strange feeling, being a part of it all, like you’re watching the shift from the sidelines rather than standing in the middle of it.

The sudden memory of Aizawa’s emphasis on “15 minutes” jolts you back to the present.

With a quiet shuffle, the girls make their way out into the arena where the rest of your classmates stand. You settle yourself on the outskirts of the group, perching on one of the benches, the space around you familiar and comforting. You’re content to just observe this time, no pressure to dive into conversation.

It’s easier this way, you think, as no one pays you any mind. Your eyes wander over to Bakugou, who, unsurprisingly, is at the center of the chaos.

He’s snapping at Kirishima, his fiery temper on full display—but you couldn’t care less about the words exchanged. What draws you in again is the way his costume fits him, perfectly tailored to his frame, an expression of his raw power.

God, he looks good.

Before you can let your mind wander any further, Aizawa’s voice slices through the air, snapping everyone’s attention back to him.

“Alright, guys, let’s start,” he announces, his tone calm but commanding, as usual, a checklist in hand. “Here’s what we’re gonna do.”

You focus, brow furrowing slightly as you listen to the rules. Capture the flag? Sounds easy enough, right?

The rules are simple: whoever holds the flag is considered the villain, and the team tasked with capturing it are the heroes. Straightforward.

But then, the teams are announced—randomized, of course—and before you know it, there’s a bright yellow flag strapped to your waist. And just like that, you’re the villain.

The weight of the flag feels less like an accessory and more like a target now. Great. It’s fine! You can handle it. Your quirk’s flashy and not the best for stealth, but you���ve worked with it before. No problem.

You straighten up, waiting for Aizawa to announce your opponent. You can practically feel the tension building as the seconds stretch on.

“Bakugou Katsuki. Hero.”

What?

Suddenly, it feels like the world stops spinning for a moment. You’re hyper-aware of the eyes on you and Bakugou, feeling the weight of everyone’s gaze fall between the two of you, curiosity in the air. Mostly because, well...

You and Bakugou had literally never been paired together for anything in the three years you’ve spent together at U.A.

It sounds odd, but despite being in many different classes, projects, and assignments together, it’s never happened. Not once.

And now, here you are. Your first time being paired with him. Oh god.

You can feel your heartbeat in your throat as you look over at him, unable to stop yourself. Your breath catches when you realize his red eyes are already locked on you.

His hero mask rests casually on his forehead, pushing back the messy platinum strands of his hair, only adding to his beautiful face. His expression is neutral—almost indifferent—but in your eyes, it only makes him look more dangerous.

You swallow hard, and your pulse spikes.

Bakugou Katsuki... is going to try and catch your flag?

Your hand naturally falls on the flag tied to your waist line, holding it to you, and you don't miss how his sharp eyes follow the movement.

Why, of all times, does your face suddenly feel like it’s on fire? Your heart races in your chest, and you can’t tell if it’s from fear or something else entirely. Oh god, help you. You’re in trouble

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[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I'd say that Ephemeral is actually slightly worse than Chat Blanc. Not only does it have the same general issue re the glaring lack of trauma, but in Ephemeral, they don't speed run the square dating and learning each other's identities. Instead, they actually take the time to show Marinette working through the shock of learning Chat Noir's identity before her and Adrien start dating. In spite of this, there's not even a hint of some greater trauma holding her back. We're explicitly told that she's only freaking out over the identity thing:

Marinette: Luka, have you ever thought you knew a person really well only to find out that they have a secret side to them that you couldn't possibly imagine? Luka: Yes. Marinette: And, did it... completely change your way of seeing them? Like all of a sudden, everything feels strange 'cause you don't really know them anymore? Luka: Quite the opposite, actually. Once I got over the shock, it helped me to get to know them better, and liked them even more. (stands from his seat) (As Luka walks away, in Marinette's point of view, she still sees Adrien as Cat Noir. But as Luka walks across her sight of Adrien, he is seen as his normal self. Marinette smiles at the view.)

This is literally Marinette freaking out over her crush not being who she thought he was. It is a perfect setup for establishing the Derision trauma because Kim pranking her after she confesses is literally her crush not being who she thought he was. Yet we get nothing.

It's extra damning because Ephemeral was one of the last episodes of season four, so they should have had some idea where they'd like to take season five while writing it. And they did! Ephemeral was the first time that anyone used a ring to control Adrien, taking the sentitheory from a long-shot fan theory to something canon was actually backing. So you can't say that this episode was written without any thought for future seasons. They clearly had some things planned, the just chose to foreshadow what's frankly a minor element of season five while ignoring what would end up being the major conflict (the love square getting together and Marinette being able to function around Adrien.)

The only logical reason to give the sentitheory weight while completely ignoring Derision here is if Derision didn't exist and the majority of season five's conflict was made up after this point. That or just general writing issues showing off poor skills and an inability to think things through. Either one or even both will do.

wait if mari is scared to be intimate with adrien bc of Derision's flashbacks how did

[hvnlygrl]

jj and his gf who has really bad sensory problems, especially at night when they're going to sleep her shirt always bothers her and she gets so fusturated but jj always knows what to do for her

or with loud noises!!! i feel like he'd be the type to practically whisper you to sleep at night because he knows sometimes all the noise is just way too overwhelming

it’s all too much (can’t get enough).

pairing — jj maybank x fem!reader

word count — 1.7k

warnings — overstimulated reader, reader has a panic attack, fluff, super comforting jj, talk of diagnoses and doctors, mentions of throw-up. hurt/comfort.

synopsis — when everything gets to be too much for you, jj becomes the only thing you can stand, and the one thing you crave more than anything.

notes — this is such a wonderful request as someone who struggles with this on a regular basis and relies on my own bf to calm me down and be my peace and my center to ground myself. i love this sm! i hope you enjoy <3

you weren’t sure when it started; the constant overwhelming feelings that consumed nearly every waking moment you had throughout the day. one doctor said it was normal for a girl your age, especially given the things you’d been through, another said that it was due to an anxiety disorder, and one (though you knew this one was totally full of shit) tried to blame it on obsessive compulsive disorder with a hint of autism. 

you had no clue when it got this bad, but you knew that it was reaching the point of becoming unbearable. being in crowds, or anywhere where the background noise was louder than the noise in your mind, made you feel like you needed to puke. clothes that were too tight or too loose, too coarse or too soft, too thick or too thin, drove you nearly to the brink of insanity. it was, as you described it, as if you were completely uncomfortable in your own body at all times. 

hearing people hum, sing, tap, or breathe drove you up a wall, and that was on your best day. it was the thing you hated most about yourself, honestly. you hated that you were so easily agitated, and that you couldn’t help the outbursts that came with it. 

throughout your school years, as it worsened, you lost friends one by one, until all that was left were the pogues and your boyfriend, jj. not like you needed anything more than them, but still.

you had no idea how jj could put up with you being this way, especially for so long, but you were extremely grateful for him. part of you, deep down inside your heart, was petrified that one day he would have enough and realize that he could do so much better, but for now you were willing to bask in each and every moment you got to have with him. 

jj, however, felt the same way about you; he was terrified that you’d wake up one day and realize how broken he was and how unfixable his soul would forever be. 

you were both idiots, admittedly, because each and every one of the pogues could tell just from the way that you looked at each other in docile moments that there was absolutely nothing either of you would take in place of the other. 

since your relationship started with jj, your anxiety got significantly better, with fewer outbursts and a generally happier state of being becoming your new normal. he grounded you to reality, kept you sane and helped you accept yourself for what you truly were. with jj, you never had to hide anything, never had to mask any emotions or thoughts (no matter how dark or upsetting they may be). you knew he would never judge you for anything you felt or thought, having dealt with his own fair share of breakdowns during his time alive. 

when you were crying to the point of hyperventilating over your crop top shirt being too constricting, he would give you his flannel to change into. when your shoes became too tight around your toes, he would pull your favorite slippers from his bag. when your food was too slimy or too crunchy, he’d swap dishes with you. anything to keep you happy, and anything to let you have as close to a normal experience as possible. 

jj was a saint, truly. everything he did, he did through his love for you, never once questioning whatever was bothering you, simply just finding the best fix or alternative to calm you back down. it was beautiful. 

however, as much as jj could do, he couldn’t always fix the problem. some things were still too far beyond anything he could ever understand, and in those cases, he would just hold you, doing his best to keep you contained and feeling as safe and comforted as possible. 

panic attacks were nothing new to you, a weekly occurrence since you were a small child. they stemmed from severe ptsd from your childhood, you knew that. that knowledge felt like it should be enough to be able to push through them when they happened, but it never was. 

a sharp pain in your chest, your internal temperature reaching record-breaking highs, your head spinning and full of loud disturbing thoughts, your breathing becoming erratic and your body trembling. you felt like you were going to puke and pass out all at the same time. 

the first time it happened around jj, he thought he was going to have to bring you to the hospital or call an ambulance. 

the two of you had gotten into a slight, meaningless disagreement over something completely irrelevant. he got a little too loud and before you knew it you had a hand clutching your heart, panting like a dog at the park as you backed as far into the nearest corner as you could. the walls shifted around you, inching closer and closer with every rapid breath you took. you tried to take deeper breaths, attempting to slow your heart before it exploded in your chest, but you couldn’t. you began crying, eyes wide with a thousand yard stare, seeing everything and nothing all at once. 

jj watched you for a moment, in terror as he panicked, completely unaware of what was happening or what he should or could do about it. “y/n? what’s happening, baby?” 

“i-i-” you struggled to catch a breath that would reach your lungs, “i can’t-”

“are you-what do i do?” he moves toward you, hands extended out warily, “what can i do, baby?”

you turned your head up toward the sky as you slid down the wall until you reached the floor. your eyes were pinched shut, as tight as you could get them, as if that would be enough to throw you back to reality. your arms wrapped around your knees tightly, one hand gripping the other as they wrung themselves together. “water,” it was a whisper, your vision full of black spots when you opened your eyes. this one was particularly bad for some reason, bringing you to the verge of passing out. “please.”

“water,” jj repeats, immediately jumping at the opportunity to help you, ��uh, uh,” he searches frantically for a cup from the cabinet, realizing that all of the cups are dirty in the dishwasher, “shit!” he goes to wash one before remembering that you had put a few bottles to cool in the fridge when you’d gotten home earlier that day. “stupid,” he cusses at himself as he sprints to the fridge, rummaging through it until he finds one, perfectly chilled just for you. 

he returns, finding you taking deep breaths while humming to yourself softly. it’s rhythmic, though a song he’s never heard before. it’s the song your dad hummed to you when you had the same attacks as a child, he’d hold you, placing a cold washcloth on the back of your neck as he hummed, telling you to rub at the inside of your palms softly to the rhythm. it was an old trick his own mother had done for him when he was a child, and it worked like a charm for you most of the time. 

jj returns with the water, moving slower when he approached you, “i got your water, baby,” he speaks softly, his voice tender yet still slightly panicked. “can i get you anything else? do you want a hug or-”

“can you get me a washcloth, please?” 

he nods and immediately moves toward the bathroom. 

“wet it with cold water,” you call out to him, just loud enough for him to hear it. 

jj follows the instructions, wringing it out in the sink before bringing it back to you. he sits on the floor next to you, mimicking your pose as he watches you intently. 

you take a sip from the bottle before you drop your forehead to rest on the tops of your knees, the washcloth resting on the back of your neck. you continue taking deep breaths as you hum the tune once more, drawing shapes and massaging the insides of your palms. 

after a few minutes, your breathing returns back to normal, your heart rate dropping back to an acceptable rate again. once you feel alright, you turn to look at jj, his concerned blue eyes tugging at your heart. 

“are you okay? did i do something? i’m so sorry-”

“it was a panic attack,” your voice is soft, filled with shame as your gaze flutters between his eyes and his necklace. “i get them a lot. sorry you had to deal with that.” 

“no, no don’t be sorry,” he places a ringed hand on your shoulder, “that wasn’t your fault, baby, don’t be ashamed of that. i’m just glad i could help you. i know what to do for next time, don’t even worry about it, okay? i was just really worried about you.” 

“i know, i’m okay now though,” you nod, your heart warming at his words, “thanks for taking care of me.” 

“of course, y/n,” he scoots closer to you, letting you rest your head against his shoulder, “you’re my girl, i’ll always be here to take care of you, babe.” 

you smile, though he can't see it, “i love you, jj.” 

“i love you, y/n,” he repeats, placing a tender kiss to the top of your head. “anything else i can do for you?”

“i could use a nap,” you huff softly, “that took a lot out of me.” 

“yea, i’m sure it did,” he affirms, “let’s go take a nap then.” 

jj helps you up from the floor, an arm slung over your shoulders as you both make your way down the hallway and into the bedroom. he pulls back the covers for you, turns the fan on, and the lights off. he even brings your water that you forgot to grab from the living room and places it on your nightstand. 

jj slides into the bed beside you, allowing you to get comfortable on his chest as he lies on his back. he rubs a hand on your back, humming the tune you sung earlier softly, putting you right to sleep. he silently prays that you’ll rest as much as you deserve, and that for as long as you’ll have him, he’ll be able to help you more than he could today. he also vows to never be the reason you feel like that again if he can help it. 

-> back to masterlist

taglist — @rubiehart @ji4ra4l1f3 @baebankz @sarahsangelicdoll

[lune-moon-nuit]

The influence of conformity & gender stereotypes on the characters of Stranger Things but also on US (the general audience)

The moment I stumbled upon the arguments of "anti-Byler," the most commonly cited one was their outright denial of heteronormative pressures and societal expectations that are instilled in us from a young age. These same dynamics influenced Mike and the other characters in Stranger Things. This realization brought to mind a personal childhood anecdote that illustrates this phenomenon perfectly.

I must have been around ten years old because I remember this happening on the bus ride home from a school trip to watch Ratatouille. At the time, I had recently befriended a boy in my class—we had been seated next to each other, which gave us more opportunities to talk than when I’d usually stick with my girlfriends during recess while he played soccer with the boys. (Just describing this setup already paints a clear picture of gender stereotypes and heteronormativity, even though this was in 2007—25 years after 1982, to put things into perspective.)

When I say we had grown closer, I mean that two kids had developed a friendship: we laughed together, enjoyed each other’s company, and simply got along well. But I vividly remember sitting face-to-face with Maximilien—yes, I suddenly recalled his name as I was writing this! Maximilien, with his freckles and ginger hair—and we were laughing and talking about the movie. At one point, I playfully held two strands of his hair between my fingers, pretending to guide him like Rémy from Ratatouille.

It was then that I noticed, just behind Maximilien's smiling face, my classmates observing us from the next row. They were whispering and giggling, their glances unmistakably filled with mischief. I immediately understood what they were thinking. Later that day, they confronted me, insisting, “You’re in love with Maximilien!”

I felt embarrassed and awkward. But the truth is, before their remarks, the idea hadn’t even crossed my mind. To me, Maximilien was simply a friend, someone I enjoyed spending time with. It wasn’t until my friends planted that seed of doubt that I began to question my feelings. For the rest of the school year, I convinced myself I had a crush on him.

Looking back, this memory perfectly encapsulates how deeply societal conditioning affects us, even as children. At ten years old, we were already internalizing heteronormative narratives from our peers, advertisements, media, movies, and TV shows. Everything around us reinforced the notion that if a boy and a girl were close, they had to be more than friends.

This anecdote resurfaced in my mind recently, and it struck me how pervasive this conditioning was—even in 2007, when societal attitudes had already progressed somewhat compared to the 1980s. Now imagine how amplified this must have been in the '80s, which sheds light on the behaviors of Lucas, Dustin, and Nancy (and others by the way) in Stranger Things.

These three characters—Lucas, Dustin, and Nancy—each insinuated that Mike had romantic feelings for El based solely on his acts of kindness and care for her. It becomes much easier to understand their reactions when you realize they were operating under the same heteronormative assumptions that shaped our childhoods. After all, didn’t we all have our own versions of Lucas and Dustin who convinced us we were in love with our Maximilien or El?

Before Lucas’s heteronormative remark, Mike had done nothing more than show empathy for El—protecting her and taking care of her after she told him she was being hunted by “bad men” and that her life was in danger. Mike’s actions stemmed from compassion and the fact that she had information about Will’s disappearance, not romantic interest. Their interactions were simply those of two kind-hearted kids getting to know each other, with Mike admiring her powers (like any kid fascinated by superheroes) and El being drawn to Mike’s stable family life—a concept foreign to her.

But then Lucas planted that tiny seed: “If you’re this nice to her, you must be in love with her.” From that point on, Mike started behaving more timidly around El, his perception of their interactions skewed by Lucas’s words. Dustin reinforced this by accusing Mike of neglecting their friendship because of El, which was a childish and reductive observation considering the circumstances. Nancy, too, perpetuated this when she directly asked Mike, “You like El?” after he inquired about her feelings for Jonathan.

All these comments were rooted in internalized heteronormativity—small seeds planted in Mike by his friends, just as their families, communities, and society had once planted similar seeds in them.

The result? Mike simply conformed to what he thought he was supposed to feel. If everyone said he loved El, then he must love her, right? So he invited her to the Snow Ball and kissed her—because that’s what he believed he was “meant” to do. After all, she had superpowers like the heroes he admired, and as a bullied, insecure boy who often felt powerless, her attention gave him a sense of validation. She needed him, depended on him, and he felt useful and in control by taking care of her.

At the same time, he barely knew her—they’d only spent a week together, and beyond the immediate crisis and her love of Eggo waffles, there wasn’t much else he understood about her. Still, this fleeting connection gave him emotional and psychological comfort during Will’s disappearance and presumed death—a situation where he felt utterly helpless.

All of this resulted in Mike simply doing what he thought he was supposed to feel and do: "If everyone says I love her, then I must love her, right? So let's invite her to the dance and kiss her! Besides, she has powers like my favorite superheroes—that's pretty cool for a bullied boy who looks like a frog, isn't it? If she's interested in me, wouldn’t that prove I'm normal after all? Plus, she depends on me, she needs me, she's lost without me, and I have to take her under my wing. I feel useful taking care of her! It's only been seven days since I met her, so honestly, apart from the urgent situation we're in, I know almost nothing about her except that she likes waffles. But at least, during this week, we needed each other, and emotionally and psychologically, it helped me cope with the disappearance and presumed death of my best friend—a friend who vanished after leaving my house, where I feel 100% powerless to protect or save him. Having some sense of control by taking care of El, who clearly needs me, might just be my way of projecting? Also, she looks like a boy with her short hair, and she was mistaken for Will three times throughout the season—what a coincidence!"

I also noticed that in Season 4, the Duffer Brothers repeatedly wrote into the script how Robin and Steve are often mistaken for a couple by others. This happens because people don’t know Robin is a lesbian, but more importantly, because they can’t comprehend how Robin and Steve can be so close, so in sync, and have such incredible chemistry without being romantically involved. And yes, it’s absolutely possible—some people can be your soulmate without being in a romantic relationship with you. In fact, there are relationships that are healthier and more balanced as friendships rather than as romantic partnerships, and the people involved often realize this themselves. This doesn’t diminish the genuine love they have for each other. They love each other, they don’t want to lose one another, it’s just not romantic. It doesn’t take away from the strength or depth of the bond they share—it’s simply a different kind of love for a different kind of relationship.

This dynamic becomes even more compelling when you consider how heteronormativity shaped not only Mike’s understanding of his feelings but also everyone else’s perceptions of their relationship. Like Lucas, Dustin, and Nancy, we’ve all been influenced by these societal norms, projecting them onto others and perpetuating them, often without even realizing it.

[caitlynsrighteye]

By your side

Caitlyn Kiramman x reader | The battle w Ambessa

Contains: angst, fem!reader, reader fights with dual blades, established relationship, wlw, 1st pov

Nothing else could've prepared us more for this moment. The city walls of Piltover are now broken down into debris and rubbish, screams, and war cries can be heard from both Enforcers and Ambessa's soldiers. We were surrounded by the red armored warriors in what seemed like a cage, trapped against the lion known as General Ambessa. She stood powerful and confident while Mel, Caitlyn, and I had to face this monster of a woman.

Everything moved so fast yet so slow at the same time. Before, we were rushing towards what we thought was Viktor with a bomb in my squad member's hands to end this once and for all. We kept our distance, waiting for the bomb to go off. Caitlyn and I look at each other, confused. The next thing I knew, I was hit on the temple of my head, watching Cait receive the same fate as I slowly passed out.

I wake to myself kneeling on both my knees. I lifted my head and wincing from the pain of a throbbing headache. My pupils dilated, becoming used to the brightness of the sun. I turn my head, and it's a polearm blade almost being placed onto the skin of my neck by one of the Noxeus soldiers.

My eyes finally adjusted. I look in front of me to see my girlfriend, Cait, in the same position as I am in a few yards away, but she had a rifle aimed at the back of her head, by someone wearing the same uniform as our side of the war.

Caitlyn glaces behind her, and the imposter removes their gasmask, revealing their freckled face. Maddie Nolen. My face burned in rage, and my forehead began to hurt from how far my eyebrows were furrowed. "You damn traitor! I'll kil-" nearly getting up from my seated position, I was hit from behind, keeping me in my spot. The polearm blade is now grazing a layer of my flesh. I groaned from the contact. My eyes connect to Caitlyn's sappire orbs. We both looked deeply into one another as we tried to figure out how to get out of this situation.

Moments later, Maddie falls onto Caitlyn and then onto the concrete ground with a bullet wound in the middle of her forehead. Mel comes out to confront her mother. I take a chance to grab onto the neck of the polearm, yanking it to pull the soldier over myself and have them fall onto their back, I stand quickly, breaking their weapon in half with my knee and kicking them in the head knocking them right out.

I unsheathe my dual blades that were held strapped to my thighs and rushed over to Cait where Mel and Ambessa were facing off. When I arrived, Cait punched Ambessa across her cheek. "Shut up and fight," she says. Throwing Ambessa a polearm to fight with. This is how we got into this mess. Cait and I fight her back to back, coming in close as Mel assists us a few feet behind using her newfound powers to take on the wolf. Caitlyn does her best, blocking and dodging the giant woman's attacks. She lands a strike to her inner thigh, and she groans before kicking Cait, causing the enforcer to be pushed back.

I jump in, taking my turn to attack. I'm known to be fast, swift enough to quickly maneuver around her blows because of my body size. Yet, she easily blocks. I managed to slice a stripe up her right forearm. The wrap around her arm with the enchanted runes attached to it became loose from the cut, but she caught me by the neck and rose me high into the air. Her grip tightened, blocking my airflow. I drop my blades to pull on the arm holding me. They fall with a clank and scratch the concrete. My feet kicked at her, but cause no reaction from the blood thirsty warrior.

Mel sends a burst of her power towards the head of the woman grasping my throat. She ducks and brings me down with her. I met the ground harshly, causing me to get winded. She then raises her foot up, and with her heavyweight armored boots, she stomps on my lower leg. A loud crack of my bone breaking can be heard. This injury would take me out of todays fight for sure. I scream from the excruciating pain of my leg.

Just as Ambessa is about to strike me with the tip of her bladed staff, Cait jumps in to block it. She quickly throws attacks at the soldier, but with having the lesser experience, she is easily taken over. She was pinned, sheilding my body with hers. The tip of Ambessa's blade almost grazed Caitlyn's left eye. She grew tired trying to keep Ambessa's weapon away. She turned her gaze towards me. Her eyesbrows sunk. I did not know what she was planning, but the look in her eye worried me. "Cai -" Before I finished, she quickly pulled the woman's weapon towards her so she could get a hold of the runes that were protecting Ambessa.

All grew silent for a moment. My face was scrunched, and my eyes were sealed shut. I felt warm liquid fall onto my face. Opening my eyes slowly, I see my blue-haired girlfriend. Her face was tilted slightly to mine, and blood flowed down her cheek. She sacrificed her eye to get the upper hand in the fight. "Now, Mel!" She yells, and the young woman attacks the general. That was the last thing I saw before I felt something grab onto my forehead, pulling me slightly off the ground and my vision beginning to blur.

The sun was hot, and birds flew overhead. Everything came to a stop. The Noxeus soldiers, Viktor's army, seemed to disconnect from the world as they all fell lifeless. I wake up, still laying on the ground facedown. I see Caitlyn in front of me lying on her back. I rush to stand, but my leg fails me. Groaning loudly from the pain, I crawl as fast as I could to reach her side. "Cait!" I say, using my elbows to support my weight as I look over her. One of my hands holds her cheek and turns her head towards me to get a better look at her.

Her uniform is torn, her beautiful blue hair disheveled. I use my finger to remove some strands from her face. Her face is cut, bruised, and bleeding from her nose and her eye that she has lost. My eyes water from the sight of her. She was breathing, yet she was in so much pain. The adrenaline hasn't run out yet. If it did, I probably would be feeling the large gash on my head where blood seeped out onto my forhead and the bone sticking out through my torn pants.

We laid there for what seemed like forever before Mel came back with enforcers to help us. It was hard letting go of her hand that I held so tightly that even though she was asleep, she could feel my warmth. We were both carefully carried to immediate medical care, where I was sedated for emergency surgery.

I laid somewhere comfortable. Slightly inclined, I was covered by thin sheets of a clinic bed. I was waking from a slumber that had to have lasted a couple of days. Opening my eyes to the sun gleaming through window curtains. I began to stretch but flinch, a wince eacaping my mouth. Glaring down, my broken leg is cushioned by a soft pillow. It was wrapped and splinched to keep the part straight.

"You're awake," that accent had always calmed me when I heard it. I turn my head next to me to find another bed with my one and only gorgeous blue-haired girlfriend.

Turning toward the direction of her soft, soothing voice, I see her. Vision focuses on her features. The expression on my face saddened. My eyebrows and mouth both frown after seeing my girlfriend wrapped in bandages head to toe. She laid in a bed next to mine. A wrap around her head, covering her left eye that was once so beautiful like the ocean. Her torso was bare. the only things keeping her covered were bandages, protecting the wound where she'd been stabbed and other cuts and bruises that had occupied her pale skin.

"Oh Cait," my voice sounded like it wanted to break. Oh, to have the strength to get out of bed and jump into her arms. She didn't deserve any of the pain that she had gone through. I wish i could just take all the pain away from her. Even through the hardships, she still managed to smile at me in hopes it'll comfort my mind. All she wanted was peace, yet it was always the justification for violence.

_________________________________________

Born to enjoy reading, forced to write what i want to read. Needed me some angst during the war scene. Lowkey rushed the ending, thanks for reading♡

[magicalrocketships]

Flip flop for Where the Light is? Sorry for acting like a fan but i saw ur reblog and jumped at the chance

↻ FLIP FLOP: send me a scene from one of my fics and I’ll describe or write it from another character’s POV!

Where the Light is (Masterpost || AO3) AKA the one where Max gets pregnant.

Except, this time: Daniel's POV (part 1/2, I didn't mean for it to turn into something but then I got tired)

Daniel I have some news for you so please call me back Daniel deletes the voicemail.

Where the light was

Daniel I have some news for you so please call me back

Daniel deletes the voicemail.

You have not called me back Daniel and now it says your voicemail is full so I will text you instead to tell you to call me

Daniel sees the notification pop up just under the last missed call from Max. That's five calls now since the last time Daniel swept the notifications away.

He doesn't want to talk to Max. He doesn't want to talk to anyone. He turns the volume down to nothing and switches vibrate off.

Sometimes he'll look at the phone on the coffee table and see the screen light up with another message, another call, another notification. He doesn't pick his phone up. Eventually they'll stop.

I need to tell you something daniel and I can see your read receipts are on so text me back

Daniel googles 'how to turn read receipts off'. He follows the instructions. He's okay. He just— there's a lot going on. It's complicated. There are lawyers. Contracts to unravel. Partnerships to end. He's tired. There isn't a space for racing and people who race in his life right now. It's a door he's got to close for his own survival.

You have turned your read receipts off but you are still not texting me back and it is important daniel

Daniel doesn't call Max back. He doesn't call Max, he doesn't text him, he doesn't come back to Monaco, and he doesn't read or reply to his Instagram DMs.

He goes back to the farm. Someone takes over his inbox and sends him meeting invites to a new, private email and he shows up to them when he's required to. He runs a lot. Bikes a lot. Answers one message or one call from his parents per day, as agreed.

It's okay. He'll be okay. There's a whole world out there, a future that's just waiting for him. It's okay to close the curtains for a while, though. Know the world's out there waiting for him. When he's ready.

He's just not ready yet.

Scotty messages him to say that Chloe got asked by Lance who got asked by Max to make him get in touch. He texts Scotty back it's on my list.

There's a lot of stuff on his list. He calls his therapist. She's been waiting for him to get in touch. He books in two sessions, and gets out the yoga mat again. He stretches. He talks.

Max keeps on messaging him. They're all much the same. He hopes Daniel is okay. He wants to talk. Can Daniel call him back please.

Daniel doesn't have it in him to talk about racing. He doesn't have it in him to know that Max is carrying on when he's pulled off the track and won't be getting back on it. He knows Max deserves better.

He doesn't let himself think about that one night they spent together, the one where Daniel had been drowning in hope, in promises, in a future. He'd wanted more than just that one night. He'd wanted that future, the one he'd dreamed about, him and Max and racing and everything else.

It's all right that things end. It's the natural ebb and flow of life. He wouldn't have been racing forever, anyway. There would always have been a last race, a last season, a last car. His therapist tells him it's okay to have feelings about how it played out, though. Daniel has feelings. He's mad, he's sad, he's disappointed and embarrassed and lost.

He doesn't want to get stuck as well as lost, though. He's always been an adventurer. There's always been something to reach for. He's just got to figure out what.

"You've got time," his therapist tells him. "You don't have to decide today."

That's good, Daniel thinks, because he's got no idea what's next.

His phone rings in the middle of the night. He answers blearily, without thinking. He'd turned the volume up after weeks of it being on silent. The ringer is so loud in the quiet of the night. He reaches for his lamp.

It's— it's Max. The angle's weird. He's holding his phone up to talk into it, but his eyes are closed like he hadn't realised he was FaceTiming, like he was just going to talk into the mic. He's lying down. That's a— that's one of those shitty medical beds like they have in the medical centre trackside, complete with the shitty tearaway paper sheets. It's Brazil weekend and that's a medical bed.

Daniel's heart pounds.

He has to tune back into what Max is saying: "—There is a baby, Daniel. Our little baby. I tried and I tried to tell you. I didn't tell anyone else but now they will be finding out. I don't know if it is me that is not well or if it is the baby. I want it to be me."

Daniel says, "Max?"

Max opens his eyes. He looks exhausted and pale and washed out and ill. He touches his thumb to Daniel's face through the phone screen.

"Max," Daniel says again.

"I don't feel well," Max says. "They are taking me to hospital."

"Max," Daniel says.

"Our little baby won a race," Max says. "I am going now."

The phone goes fucking dead.

Daniel calls him back. It goes unanswered. He calls again. Unanswered.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck.

Daniel googles. He calls Max, over and over, but there's no answer. He reads peoples tweets and reddit posts about Max's win, about his fourth world championship, about him supposedly being ill and needing help out of the car and the weird, disjointed way he'd looked on the podium, not even picking up his champagne bottle, and how someone had come to offer Max help off the podium and down the stairs. The rumours and the news of him being taken to the medical centre, and then to hospital. He turns the TV on then off again. Dawn comes. Daylight. A new day. He messages Max. Nothing.

Then: I am coming to Perth. We will need to go to a baby doctor.

Daniel sits down. What the fuck. A baby. Their baby? A baby. All this time, a baby.

A call from his parents. He answers it hoping that it's Max, then he has to try and explain that Max is coming to them. Has to ask them how to find a baby doctor. There are calls to Blake, to someone who might know something, texts to people Daniel hadn't wanted to talk to ever again. Eventually, someone in Raymond's office. A time. Details of where Max's jet will be landing. Questions about whether Daniel will meet him or if alternative arrangements have to be made.

The whole time Daniel feels like he's having an out of body experience. He goes to his parents' place and they look at him with the same confusion and concern as is probably mirrored on Daniel's face. Knowing Max discharged himself. That he's flying across the world when he should still be in hospital in Brazil. It's too much. They're going to come meet Max's plane with him. They're going to drive.

"Jesus," Daniel says, when he sees Max, who's barely managing to stand. He's never seen Max look anything like this bad. Pale and weak and exhausted and touching his stomach, where there's a baby. Where there is their baby. God, maybe he misunderstood. Don't get hopeful. Don't wish for anything. He might have got it wrong.

He trails his parents to the car. He's trying to catalogue everything that's different about Max. He has to help Max get into the back of the car. Has to help him with his seatbelt. His hands shake.

Max looks at him. He says, "The baby is okay, Daniel, they said so. I am just tired."

Daniel says, "You're a real fucking idiot, Max," and he can't help but hold on to Max's hand really fucking tight as his mum tells them they're going to the hospital.

Max doesn't argue. He looks like there's nothing holding him together but willpower. "I thought you would like it if the baby was born here," he says. "I was picking a place for the baby to be born and I thought you would like it if it was here."

Daniel is going to fucking sob. He's going to break down and cry.

Max shakes his head. "You didn't answer your phone. I kept trying."

"I'm sorry," Daniel says. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't be anywhere where racing was. I didn't know it was more important."

"I told the baby you would love them but you just needed to know about it." He leans his head back against the head rest.

It's too much. It's another thing he's failed at. He should have answered Max's calls. He should have known it wasn't about racing, that it was more important, that Max needed him. That there was a baby, their baby, and Max was trying to tell him.

The punishment, Daniel supposes, is finding out like this.

Daniel holds Max's hand the whole way to the hospital.

[katmostardently]

Set after the Doyle arc, Emily’s been a bit distant and guilty for everything, you’ve been patient nonetheless.

Implied death, hurt/comfort, fluff, barely implied smut

ʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄

Word count: 737 words

a/n: I got some ideas after listening to Would You Fall in Love with Me Again, it’s short but it’s 4 am, I blame all my mistakes on that. I currently have some ideas for longer stuff but I’m lazy, tired, and uninspired so here are my scraps!! :;(∩´﹏`∩);:

Would You Fall in Love with Me Again

“I’m sorry, I know I’m not the Emily you fell in love with.”

Her voice cracked, and you’d never quite seen Emily so broken down. You could see the genuine sorrow in her eyes, each line of her face filled with guilt. After getting out of a life or death situation because of Doyle, it was as though the only thing she had left for you was regret. Emily hated it, because someone like you didn’t deserve it

Someone like you didn’t deserve to have your heart shattered, torn to bits, to be forced into grieving, just to have it all been for nothing. Yet here you were, and that was just what happened.

Even if a week had passed since her return, hardly anything was settling in, even then, you were still there.

You placed the plate of spaghetti you’d just prepared for Emily down, settling on the couch next to her. “Emily-“, you were quick to start, and Emily was quick to silence you.

“I’m sure you’re more upset than anyone on the team, you… You’re wearing my ring for god’s sake, I couldn’t bring myself to even let you know about all this…” Emily’s mouth had quivered, letting out a shaky breath as she turned to you. “I made you wait, and now I’m not even the woman you adored so much. Y/n, I…”

She looked at you, not wanting to leave you alone ever again, but at that same moment, not feeling worthy to hold you in her arms. “I’m so sorry…” Sure, Emily was in fact changed, anyone would be.

She had this tired look in her eyes, like she wasn’t truly there, like she needed some escape. You saw it in the moments where she got home from work, when she’d secretly discard your food at night. The cigarettes in Emily’s pockets, the nights you’d wake up and cradle her through a nightmare. It all tore away at her piece by piece.

But in those same eyes, you saw the same eyes that lit up every time you were near, the same eyes that called to you with a single glance.

The same eyes, pooled with that intense devotion, that stared up to you when she knelt down on one knee a year ago.

“It’s true, you left me waiting, and it hurt, the fact that I couldn’t know you were alright.” You answered her honestly, “but it hurt even more to think you were dead. I wanted whatever monster took you from me to suffer, and I felt cursed thinking that you were taken from me.”

Before she could muster a response, you took Emily’s hand, holding it against your cheek.

Instinctively, she traced her thumb against your lips.

“And I’m so, so, so happy that you’ve come back to me.” With the way you were looking at her, Emily was certain that she’d married a princess—no, some generous, all forgiving goddess.

“I don’t deserve you…” She whispered, her hand continuing its gentle caress.

You let out a little chuckle at her words, shaking your head, “see, now only my Emily, would say something so untrue. Because you, Emily Prentiss, deserve the world.”

Then to be exact, it felt as though you gave Emily a whole galaxy, because in moments like these you always brought her some solace. There was not a single doubt you couldn’t crush with your benign palms.

She could simply hold you close in response, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you felt her heartbeat.

Emily knew that her heart would never stop, not when she’d been given the best of all women to be her fiance. She vowed to never let it stop, not when you’d be waiting for her, she could never again leave you frozen in time. Her dearest, y/n y/l/n, soon to be y/n Prentiss.

Perhaps she didn’t have to worry all that much, because somehow, you fell back in love with her new, shattered self. But really, you just simply never stopped loving her, there was no need to win you back, to make you fall in love again.

“Now… Your spaghetti’s gonna get cold….” You reminded, about to move when Emily stopped you, tenderly pushing you against the cushions. “I want my fiancé right now, not some spaghetti…” She murmured against your neck, and you smiled in response.

Forevermore, you’d never even think of giving up Emily Prentiss.

[myfairkatiecat]

As promised, 8-verse song about strieefe!

featuring my brother at the end 😭😭

For those who don’t know the joke, Stria @the-way-astray HAAAATES Keefe Sencen. So naturally it’s a ship! And after this memories post happened, well, I had no choice!

LYRICS UNDER THE CUT

(Verse 1)

There once was a boy from a series for kids

Fan favorite, created as comic relief

But there was a girl who didn’t find him comedic

Her name was Stria, his name was Keefe

(Verse 2)

So let’s just say for this song they’re the same age

And either she’s fictional too or he’s real

And Stria for some reason is her given name

Just wait for what their story will make you feel

(Chorus)

An unlikely couple

Hatred to love

She was nothing to him

Now she’s more than enough

She thought he was toxic

Now she understands

One must always follow

What their heart commands

(Verse 3)

She wrote a whole rant about everything wrong

With how he would talk and the way that he’d act

The day they met she said she was right all along

Told him off and rolled her eyes when he said he felt “attacked”

(Verse 4)

But Keefe had this thing where he hated himself

He was going through it, that much was for sure

He thought long and hard about Stria’s words well

Decided she was right and he should thank her

(Chorus)

An unlikely couple

Hatred to friends

He was nothing to her

We’ll see how it ends

She thought he was toxic

But she’s soon to understand

One must always follow

What their heart commands

(Verse 5)

Stria couldn’t believe he would own his mistakes

But he swore he got it and promised to change

She didn’t believe it and thought it was fake

He took in stride, which Stria thought was strange

(Verse 6)

Alayda watched from the sidelines and was grinning

And Katie (that’s me, I’m Katie) took notes furiously

Alayda said, “Katie it looks like we’re winning”

But I ship him with Sophie, so I said “who’s we??”

(Chorus)

An unlikely couple

Hatred to something

He was nothing to her

Now he’s surely more than nothing

She thought he was toxic

But soon she’ll understand

One must always follow

What their heart commands

(Verse 7)

Keefe day by day proved he meant what he said

And Stria rethought the whole rant that she’d made

She said “fine okay, I guess we can be friends”

He wanted more than that and asked for a date

(Verse 8)

She said before they could be something more

She had a condition, he must be okay

With sharing her eternally with four times four

Just like the amount of letters in his name

(Chorus)

And he said yes!

An unlikely couple

Hatred to love

Just him and sixteen

Now that’s more than enough

She thought he was toxic

Now she understands

One must always follow

What their heart commands

An unlikely couple

Hatred to love

She was nothing to him

Now she’s more than enough

She thought he was toxic

Now she understands

One must always follow

What their heart commands

One must always follow

What their heart commands

*ridiculous electric guitar solo by Katie’s brother*

If you made it this far, congrats! Check out my serious kotlc songs by looking up #kotlc songs or #original music on my blog!! Or not. You could always just judge my musical abilities forever and ever by this recording of me making Stria angry, which, okay, valid.

@the-way-astray @alaydabug2 @thishumanformislimiting @worldsunlikemyown @permanently-stressed @lisalovesapplesauce @jeannefostergoriot

[baocean]

no rest for the wicked

chapter two - flowers & grapefruit

masterlist | next chapter

finding out your twin sister is alive after two weeks of trying to grieve her is a weird feeling.

then, finding out your brother shot your sister over money, that’s an even weirder feeling.

you’d been dragged through the mud these last few weeks. you haven’t been sleeping, haven’t been eating, your friends stopped reaching out after three or four tries.

your house wasn’t safe anymore. you flipped your shit on rafe when you found out he shot sarah. your sister, his sister. you just found out she was alive, and rafe’s trying to fucking kill her again.

now, you’re scared rafe knows you’re just as against him as sarah is. personally, you were scared. for yourself, for sarah, for wheezie. you had absolutely no idea what rafe was capable of, he just kept out performing himself.

conforming to the plan of staying alive, and after rafe scared you shitless with one of his crazy rants after trapping you in the kitchen, you went along with what he said, told people rafe was at home when the sheriff was shot, said sarah was awol.

you prayed that it would end up helping you, getting you back to your sister, getting the sheriff justice.

you’d keep out of the pogues way, half of them were batshit crazy anyway, go about your business. not anger your brother enough for him to point a loaded gun at you.

you walked the beach the next morning, wondering where sarah and john b were. they could be anywhere, by now.

it was sunrise, nothing but tourons walking their dogs and early morning runners out.

it was peaceful, beautiful. with the constant threats and reminders of what was happening at home, it was nice to get away, even for a little.

you were completely conflicted. rafe, your dad, sarah, they were your family. all of them have done bad things, including you. you couldn’t sit here and watch john b go down for something rafe did, but rafe was also your brother. ‘he needs help’, you kept reassuring yourself, ‘if he just got the help he needed, everything would be okay’.

you’d been around town, pretending everything was normal. you’d been back at the club while you watched people whisper about your sister. you also hadn’t seen any of the pogues since the party, hoping and praying that rafe had nothing to do with their disappearance.

at the same time you were heading back to your house, sarah and the rest of her friends were heading back to obx from charleston, after being reunited.

“i need to see yn.” sarah sighed, looking out onto the water. she hadn’t spoken to you in two weeks, the longest you’d ever gone without talking to one another. even the time she burnt your hair off trying to curl it, you only lasted seven days before you cracked.

“are you fucking kidding me?” jj broke the silence, everyone else simply not knowing how to.

“yes, i’m serious. she thinks im dead, jj.”

“nah, i told her the other day.” jj casually dropped, sarah giving him a confused look.

“why would you do that?”

“i thought she had the right to know. she wanted to tell rafe, but uh, guess he figured that one out on his own.” jj’s eyes flickered to sarah’s wound on her lower stomach.

“you know she’s telling people rafe wasn’t even there that day?” kiara spoke, harsh tone lacing her words.

everyone else remained silent, sarah just sighed. “i’m sure she has a good reason for it.”

“or maybe she’s just as psycho as rafe. did we ever think about that? can’t the mentally ill gene be passed down to multiple kids?” jj stood up.

“jj, just- just fucking stop, okay?” sarah fought back, forcing her blond friend back into his seat. “yn’s not perfect. but she’s not rafe. i know her, she’s not rafe.”

sarah defending you all while her heart was sinking to her feet. the thought of her twin sister defending her brother had that kind of effect on her.

you sat in your sisters room, looking at the photos on her dresser, the heap of dirty laundry in the corner, her comforter still messy from the morning when she left.

it still smelled like her, like flowers and grapefruit, like the perfume she wore.

you were relieved beyond belief that sarah was still alive, but you had no idea if you’d ever see her again.

the constant fear of what was happening, what could happen was all too much.

your breathing picked up, unable to get a deep breath of air. the world blurred around you, but you’ve had one of these before. you recognized this.

you had panic attacks the night your mom left, the few weeks after that. you didn’t have another one until you found out your sister died, that one hitting you so hard you didn’t remember the rest of the night.

and just as the tear fell down your cheek, your phone started to ring.

an unknown number, the one you had memorized anyway. why was jj calling?

you let it ring, trying to compose yourself the best you could. you were a cameron, grow the fuck up.

picking up the phone, your name was spoken before you could get a word out yourself.

your heart dropped, “sarah?”

“it’s me, sunshine.” her laugh rang through the phone, sending you into another fit of sobs.

sunshine was sarah’s favorite name for you, because in most cases, you were the complete opposite.

“oh my god, you’re here? are you okay? rafe fucking shot you, sarah. where are you?” you shot up, then realized rafe was probably in the other room, shunning your voice.

“i’m here, i’m fine. i’m at the chateau, using jj’s phone. i might come home, to talk to dad, to get help.”

“don’t come home. i can come there.”

“yea, that’s probably not the best idea right now. with you defending rafe and all.” sarah’s voice was hesitant, like at any moment, you’d snap at her too.

“sarah, i swear i don’t want to. rafe has gone off the fucking rails. we need to get him help.” you ran a shaky hand through your hair, pacing back in forth in your twin’s room.

“i know, i’m going to talk to dad. just, just stay there okay?”

“okay, i love you sare bear.” you smiled, even if it was weak. your sare bear, your sister. you couldn’t believe you were actually talking to her right now.

“love you too, sunshine.” and then the line was disconnected.

oh my god. oh my god. you were still so unsure how all of this happened so quickly.

one minute, your life is great. you have friends, money, great family, a guy to take your frustrations out on, all of it. then, all of the sudden you’re in this mess, and the only thing you have left is the cameron name.

an hour later, you were waiting outside on the patio, holding a book as a cover to pretend you busy.

you’d been waiting outside for sarah for almost thirty minutes, giving up hope that she was still coming.

you heard her before you saw her, popping up and throwing the book to the side. “sarah?”

seeing her made your heart physically hurt. she tried to smile, barely having it in her.

it was genuinely like a scene out of a movie, you felt like time was moving in slow motion.

you ran to where she has standing on the docks, colliding with her so hard you thought she’d fall over.

embracing her as hard as you could, you thought everything could finally be okay. that maybe you could be a family again, put it all behind you.

then, you heard your dad call her name.

you both turned around, and watched your dad walk towards you.

“sarah, my baby, i’m so happy you’re alive.” he weeped. sarah stepped back from him on instinct, grabbing your arm for reassurance.

a string of no’s and get back’s came from sarah, and you gave him a look.

the one thing sarah and you had in common were your eyes. you’d always been told that, actually. you guys had the same eye shape, color, lashes, everything. they always held so much emotion, unable to fully mask how you were feeling, ever.

right now, your dad had two sets of of the same sad eyes looking back at him.

“dad, cmon. give her some space.”

after a long talk, and much to sarah’s surprise, your dad did not agree or reason with her. by the time she was finished, she was crying.

“dad, i’m not coming home.” sarah said, making both you and your dad’s heads snap to her.

“what?” you breathed out, and she turned to you, a look of only sympathy painting her face.

“we’ll talk about it later, okay?” she nodded, smiled, then starting backing up towards the dock.

“then i’m coming with you.” you turned your entire body to her, raising your voice.

a tear slipped down sarah’s face, shaking her head no.

“what?” you drew out, almost mad at her that she had said no. you went to take a step forward, but two arms wrapped around your torso, forcing you back.

“i can’t let you do that, sweetie.” your dad hummed in your ear.

and with that, you started screaming, throwing your fists and kicking whatever you could to try to get your dad to let go of you.

sarah, still crying, started running towards the dock as you yelled her name.

you were sobbing now, weeping your sisters name as you watched her drive off on the boat, your dad still holding onto you for dear life.

after that, your dad locked you in your room for two days. something about your safety, who knows, you weren’t listening to him.

sarah finally got her phone back, and you ignored her several attempts to ‘talk about it later’.

sarah: yn please talk to me

sarah: i’m sorry things are so complicated right now i couldn’t bring you back to the chateau not right now

sarah: i can’t lose you too please text me back

sarah: dad called the police on john b. he’s in jail.

you didn’t answer the texts, at least, not right away. not until you got few other ones.

unknown: did you know your fucking dad was gonna call the cops on john b?

unknown: text sarah back and stop being a fucking bitch

taglist - @ethanthequeefqueen @rafegetinmybed @str4wb3rrym1lkl0v3r @cassiewritessalot @lilygrxcem @arabellamaybank @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @ineedtherapy1 @doesnt-care @imrkos @freyawhitexxx1 @bee-43 @dr3amgrlll

[nikist-4-n]

ANNOUNCEMENT PART 4

Dodo bullied my friend, if anyone read my announcement y'all would understand what I'm saying and she had the nerve to call me a bully for some reason

Dodo I never bullied u I was speaking out my frustrations because u go on discord to speak about me and call me names which is really low of you. You NEVER reached out to me after we exposed me u just went on my anon to defend urself to the point I had to deactivate it. And @y-urios literally sent me ur acc so I went to check it out out of curiosity and I happen to see @kissunoo

And Esha @kissunoo I'm so disappointed but I don't care what u do u can be friends with her just cuz we had a bad experience doesn't mean u can't speak to her I'm not ur mom or some leader just don't speak to me unless if u do tho. And that goes for everyone befriending dodo, she hurt my friend and me now that's why I dislike her so much it's nothing against u I just don't want to associate with people who speak to her

and to the people calling me immature just remember :

1 I'm not immature I've been calm up until she lied about me chasing her that's when I completely lost it I'm just expressing my feelings how am I immature. I really wanted to but I realised I don't always have to be the bigger person seeing that y'all let dodo talk trash about me and Saraah not even tagging me in her expose post about ME so I'm only defending myself after my sister sent it to me

2 dodo is the same age as me and chei is younger than dodo and she bullied chei over family problems ( I think that's what she said) that she could've easily logged off for some time ( I've had family problems around the same time that left me traumatized but I never took my anger out on ppl ) , we're not holding her on a leash it was her decision to take her anger out chei she doesn't deserve an explanation from her side I asked her multiple times to explain and she left me on read

And I'm not holding people accountable it's ur decision to speak to her it's just that y'all 'dislike' her and now ur on her side? I'm so done. But from Saraahs post I can see most of y'all just run with every little thing instead of asking me personally so don't be surprised that I'm unfollowing y'all in genuinely hurt

And again I'm apologising to the ppl who got involved I didn't mean to but they both ( @swhore and Dodo ) blocked me so I had no other choice but to speak on the group chat and also I'm apologising if I came off as rude yesterday to y'all I'm just so done cuz my name is getting dragged now even tho I was rightfully upset about everything. I'm human and I have feelings that's why I acted the way I did on discord

( I hope I worded myself right )

And about the slur thing I'm going to actually explain myself since Saraah is lying and showing stuff she only wants to show

[whoops-all-jennas]

Past Lives pt. 9

Wednesday x witch!reader

"I've got this strangest feeling."

"This isn't our first time around."

Summary: You and Enid try to celebrate Wednesday's birthday when more happens than you expected.

The sound of pages turning filled our shared dorm. The sun lingering at the horizon casting the only light, illuminating our dorm. Wednesday and I are investigating Codex Umbrarüm and the aged journal. We decided that I should investigate the dark covered book because of my experience with magic.

It turns out the leather journal is someone's documentations of different types of outcasts, most of which I haven't even heard of before.

"Y/n." Wednesday's voice finds it way to her bed which I am laying in. My head perks up from the book. "I found something."

I find my way to my feet before standing next to Wednesday's desk, looking over her shoulder. There are illustrations depicting the monster we've been hunting, calling it a 'Hyde.'

"Hydes are artists by nature, but equally vindictive in temperament. Born of mutation, the Hyde lays dormant until unleashed by a traumatic event or unlocked through chemical inducement or hypnosis. This causes the Hyde to develop an immediate bond with it liberator, who the creatures now sees as it's master." Wednesday turns to look at me.

"That means we're not looking for one killer, but two." I say, interrupted by the school intercom.

"Y/n Y/l/n, to the principal's office."

I look up towards the ceiling listening, before meeting my gaze back at Wednesday. "I guess I'll be right back?"

The sound of my footsteps on the cobblestone floor fill the empty hallway. I find myself in front of the door to Principal Weems office. I hesitate for a moment, taking a deep breath before opening the door.

"Ah Y/n, for a moment I was starting to think you got lost." Weems says with a smile before motioning her hand towards a chair in front of her desk. "Have a seat."

"Is everything okay?" I instinctively ask.

"You're not in trouble or anything of the sort. We just need to take a few, precautions for the moment."

"What do you mean precautions?" I raise an eyebrow, while sitting down.

Weems smile fades, her expression changing to a serious one. "I'm requesting that you don't leave campus until further notice."

"What? why?! Am I in danger?" I ask, fear suddenly finding it way into my voice.

"No, no. It's merely a precaution." Weems states, waving her hand in the air. She is clearly lying, why else would I not be allowed off campus?

I sit in silence, thinking about possibilities for this sudden change. "Is it because of the message last night?"

Weems shakes her head. "It's nothing of the sort, and nothing that concerns you."

I assume she's lying again. "What does that message have to do with me?"

Weems stares at me for a moment before releasing a sigh. "You may go back to your dorm now Ms. Y/l/n." Her hand motions towards the door.

I stand, giving up on trying to break through Weems stubborn walls. "Have a nice night Principal Weems." I say before leaving her office.

I walk back into our dorm to find Wednesday setting up candles in a circle in the center of the dorm.

"Are we conducting a seance now?" I ask half joking.

Wednesday turns her head to face me. "Yes." She states before focusing back on the candles. "We're going to try to communicate with Goody and Elsie."

I take a few more steps into the dorm before stopping. "Who's Elsie?"

Wednesday is silent for a moment, her hand stops in the air holding a candle. "Someone else I saw in a vision."

Wednesday stands after placing the final candle. "Why were you called to Weems?"

I sigh, almost already forgetting the new rule that has been forced upon me. "Principal Weems has 'requested' that I stay on campus until further notice. Saying it's some sort precaution or something."

"Why?" Wednesday asks.

I shrug my shoulders. "I asked the same thing, she wouldn't give me an answer."

Wednesday is silent for a moment, the gears in her head shifting. "Can you help me light the candles?"

The room is now only illuminated by the warm candles and the pale moonlight. Wednesday and I are sitting in front of some sort of alter facing towards each other. Wednesday has the name Goody in front of her and Elsie in front of me.

Wednesday is holding some sort of jewelry above the alter while muttering words I can't hear. I don't exactly know what's happening. I never really had a reason to try to communicate with spirits.

Suddenly the door opens, revealing a gust of wind. The wind blows out the candles ominously, the only light now being the cool colored light of the moon. I look past Wednesday as she turns around to look at the door. A silhouette appears holding a grocery bag, unable to see their face past the light behind them.

The silhouette takes a step forward to reveal our colorful roommate, Enid. Wednesday turns around, releasing an annoyed sigh.

"Sorry." Enid says before turning the light on. "I didn't mean to interrupt your... uh, do I even want to know?"

Wednesday stands, turning to face Enid. "I was reaching into the black maw of death to contact a relative."

Wednesday takes a step over the candles, approaching Enid before looking at the ritual we set up. "Feels very on brand for you. You have a relative named Goody?"

"She was one of the original outcasts." Wednesday crosses her arms. "Been attempting to summon her, but she seems to be ignoring my entreaties."

"Who's Elsie?" Enid asks as I stand up to be besides Wednesday.

"She's Goody's... friend." Wednesday says, implying something more with the pause.

Enid's face lights up for a moment. "Oh, you thought about using one of my scented candles? The aroma of steak tartare is to die for."

I scrunch up my nose at the idea that scent. "Speaking of candles." I gesture at the grocery bag Enid is holding.

"Oh right!" Enid digs into the bag to reveal a chocolate cake and some candles from the grocery store. "They're not anything impressive, but its something."

I look to Wednesday to see her tense up a bit. "I know you said no parties, so this isn't a party. Just us, nothing big." I try to comfort her.

She looks to me, giving a small uncertain nod.

Enid already has all the candles on the cake by the end of our short discussion.

"If you sing don't be surprised if you're both greeted with a knife to the throat."

I wave my hand across the candles, the wicks lighting. "No singing, got it." I feel Enid's fearful eyes on me.

Enid and I both look at Wednesday expectingly as the wax from the candles start to drip.

"You gonna blow out the candles or what?" Enid says jokingly with a smile.

Wednesday looks between the both of us before breaking her perfect posture for a moment to blow out the candles.

It's kinda cute to see her do more child-like act.

Enid quickly runs to her section of the dorm room after forcing the cake into my hands. She grabs a present wrapped in a dark gift wrapping, excitedly running back. She forces the gift into Wednesday's hands.

Wednesday's gaze softens for a moment, making eye contact with her before opening the gift. Wednesday lifts up the snood as if it's carrying a disease while she inspects it.

"Well, do you like it?" Enid asks, Wednesday's eye contact breaking from the snood. "What is it exactly?"

"It's a snood, silly. I made it in your signature colors. And you want to know what the best part is?" Enid pulls out a colorful snood, holding it in the air with excitement. "I've got one too!"

I take a look at Wednesday's face. It appears as if she's dazed from the idea of matching anything with our colorful roommate.

"We can wear them together to class." Enid says, wrapping her snood around her neck.

'Oh, Enid, this is far too unique to wear to something like class. I suggest we wait for a more special occasion." Wednesday states, Enid nods eagerly.

"Like a funeral."

Enid holds onto her snood around her neck defensively. "Oh." She has an emotion written on her face, but I can't exactly place it. Maybe disgust?

The silence fills the room for a moment.

"I guess it's my turn." I say, heading to my side of the room to grab a small present box decorated in black with dark red accents.

I head back towards Wednesday, finding her soft gentle gaze upon me. I hold the gift out to her. "Try not to see it as a romantic gesture. See it as... a sign of my loyalty."

Wednesday glances at me one more time before taking the lid off the present, revealing a necklace decorated with a vial of blood. My blood.

Wednesday grabs it by the silver colored chain, lifting it into the air. She admires the necklace for a moment before her fingertips touch the vial.

The moment her fingertips touch the vial her head flys back, her grip around the necklace tightens as she enters a vision.

"Wednesday!" Enid shouts as I instinctively grab her.

I open my eyes to find myself on the carpet of a bedroom. There's something different about this vision, it feels as if my body's atoms are trying to tear a part from each other.

I manage to stand. I find the room has a similar affect as well, as if it's corrupted or not supposed to exist. I turn to find someone tied to a chair, their face contorted and unrecognizable due to the corrupted nature of the vision.

I assume this person is you, mostly due to the white hair and that the vision was triggered by your gift.

"About time you woke up." A voice reaches from behind me, also corrupted and unrecognizable. I turn to find yet another distorted figure. Judging by their height and build it is a woman. She's twirling a wand at her fingertips.

"I thought you were a normie." You say in a haze to the figure.

"Goody was quite the remarkable witch, she managed to create a wand that allows anyone to perform magic." She slows her steps intimidatingly as she gets closer. "I can't believe you of all people caught me in that cave."

"What the hell were you doing to-" You ask loudly, anxiety lacing your voice.

The figure's steps hasten, holding the wand across your lips to silence you. "Watch you're tone, or I'll do worse than wipe your memory."

I can sense a new found fear rise in you at your silence.

"That's better." She said, removing the wand from your lips.

"Where are we?" You ask in a much quieter tone.

The person takes a step back, silent for a moment. "We're at my house, the Gates Mansion."

I can sense a new found fear reside inside you. "Are you going to kill me?" Your voice shakes, it hurts to witness you so afraid. "I assume I know too much."

"Oh no, no no." She shakes her head. "You're an important part of my plan Y/n." She puts the wand under your chin, tilting your head up towards her face. "But I can't exactly have you telling everyone about what you saw."

She takes a step back. "But that won't be a problem." She points the wand at your face.

"Obliviate!"

A green light emits loudly at the end of her wand, the vision evaporating into nothing.

I hear Wednesday's quilt shuffle as she sits up. I quickly stand from her reading chair, bags under my eyes.

"Wednesday, are you okay?" I quickly approach her bedside.

The necklace I gave her is still tight in her grip. "The Gates Mansion." She says quietly.

"What?" I say, confusion laced in my voice

Wednesday's eyes meet mine. "The next place we need to investigate is the Gates Mansion."

She stands, heading to her boots by the door.

"Wends where are you going?" I put my arms out in confusion.

"I just told you, the Gates Mansion." She glances at me while zipping up the side of the boot.

"Wednesday, it's like 4 am."

Her movements stop, taking a second to look at my tired state. "I was out for that long?"

I nod to her worried, she looks at me for a moment before breaking eye contact.

The smell of burnt grass fills my nostrils as Wednesday and I investigate the writing out on Nevermore's lawn.

"What you guys think it means?" Xavier says, sneaking up on us.

I take a deep breath. "I didn't know we were back on speaking terms."

"Why'd you suddenly stop talking to me?" Xavier turns to me, I glance at him for a moment before looking back at the writing on the floor.

"I didn't really like what you asked Bianca to do."

Xavier is silent for a moment, turning back to the writing on the floor. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked her to do that. It was out of character of me."

I remain silent, deciding if I should accept his apology or not.

Xavier looks around for a moment. "I do have something you might want to see though."

I look back at him, piquing my interest. "What is it?"

"It'll be best if I show you, it's in my art studio. Just stop by some time today. I promise it'll be helpful." Xavier says before turning around to leave.

I look towards Wednesday to find her eyes on mine. "What's the plan for today? I don't think I'll be able to get out of the school easily during the day."

Wednesday is silent for a moment. "I'll go investigate the Gate's Mansion, while you go see what information Xavier might have for us."

I nod, Wednesday quickly turns around heading towards the school exit.

I run towards where Xavier left. "Xavier!"

He turns around, finding his eyes on me. "What's up?"

"Do you have time right now?"

Our footsteps crunch the leaves beneath us as we approach the shed. "So, I had a vision in my dreams. It was the monster digging in front of a grave of-" He looks side to side for a moment, as if he's checking to see is anyone is eavesdropping. "It'll be better if you see it yourself."

He unlocks the door to the studio, opening the door for me to enter first. In the center of the room is a painting covered in a tarp.

Xavier approaches the tarp, looking at me worriedly, before revealing the painting.

The painting depicted the Hyde digging in front of a grave in the middle of the night. In the background reveals a clock tower with the time '12:37' on it. The name on the tombstone is 'Noble Walker'.

My eyes open in bewilderment. "Holy shit, is that the mayor?"

Xavier shushes me, putting a finger over my mouth. "Yes it's the mayor." He whispers.

I stare at the painting depicting the future for a moment. I find my eyes drawn to the clock. "Is the time accurate?"

"What?" Xavier asks.

"The time on the clocktower, is that time accurate to this event." I find myself getting progressively louder.

Xavier nods. "Yeah, it kept showing up for some reason in the vision."

I look at the painting in silence for another moment. "I gotta go." I turn to head to the door.

Xavier turns to face me "Go where?!"

"I gotta go tell Wednesday." I open the door with too much force as I leave.

Xavier follows behind me. "But you're not allowed off school campus."

I suddenly stop in place. The gears turning in my head a moment before turning around to see Xavier. "How'd you know that?"

Xavier looks to the side with an exhale. "Look, Weems told the Nightshades to not let you off campus."

"What?!" I ask, more confused than before. "Why?"

Xavier shrugs. "I'm not sure, we didn't ask. But, I can't let you off the school grounds. Sorry Y/n."

I turn around again with a sigh, surprised to see Bianca approaching me. She looks at Xavier for a moment before looking back at me, holding out her hand expectingly. "I need those books back Y/n."

My eyes go wide at the realization. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to take them out of your sight I swear."

Bianca looks at me annoyed. "Y/n, the books."

I look back towards Xavier for a moment. "They're in my dorm, you can come with me if you want. I was just on my way to my cell of a room."

I open the door to my dorm to find the furniture all skewed about, papers and pencils decorate the floor, and the drawers to our desks all haphazardly opened.

"Holy shit." I hear Bianca state behind me as my eyes go wide in bewilderment.

I run to the spot we were keeping the two books. "No no no!" Panic lacing my voice as I rummage through the drawer to be certain before turning to Bianca.

"They're gone."

I hear Bianca release an annoyed sigh.

I turn more to face my desk. I slowly approach it to find that the book of curses Wednesday gave me to study the death curse from has also vanished.

Past Lives pt. 10

Past Lives Masterlist

a/n: I'm sorry for the slight delay on this chapter. I lost motivation for a minute, but it has been reignited so expect more soon :)

I'm thinking of making a taglist for this fic, feel free to reply to this or message me if that's something you're interested in