#which of course was it's own wave of nostalgia

[genderfluidgothwitch]

Also, I made a realization today. Today was the first time EVER where I have officially been too stoned to watch a horror film

[cobaltperun]

Genius (7) - Can You Keep a Secret

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next Part

Word count: 2.9k

-And no one has to know I'm your getaway, and a little bit more than you can take-

Cairo dropped by Miller’s classroom as he was getting ready to leave, she wanted to discuss the assignment, since the writer she chose needed his approval. “Hello,” she said and took her usual seat. Absentmindedly, she left her phone on the table, not wanting to miss a text or a call from you if you were already home.

If you already got the letter.

“I was thinking about my assignment,” she opened, not inquiring about how he seemed to be going somewhere.

He smiled at her as he picked up the things he previously left on her table and almost unassumingly he went and placed his hand over her own. “Tell me about it,” he encouraged, squeezing lightly, his thumb slipping under her palm.

“Of course, just a moment,” she pulled her hand back, pretending to look for some notes or whatever in her bag. She didn’t have any, but she now knew she took it too far with him, she created certain expectations and now one way or another he was reacting to them. Which was why she had Winnie there as well, and now that felt like the right decision. “Looks like I forgot my notes, it’s fine though, I was thinking,”

Her favorite author. It was still Henry Miller, that much she knew, but given how things between her and this Miller were turning out maybe that wasn’t the best idea. Her heart told her to go with Verne, but she didn’t want anyone to know how much that writer meant to both of you. That was your secret, your book, your childhood memories, and she didn’t want them tainted or graded.

“Henry Miller,” she said, consequences be damned.

~X~

She couldn’t believe she had misplaced her phone somewhere, she had it in the classroom when she went to talk to Miller, and then just, gone. She didn’t even notice she didn’t take it with her, seeing as she was happy her idea got approved. But she was annoyed now that she no longer had her phone. She had no idea if you would come.

Please come here.

She stripped down, her body bare as she glanced at the mirror. Would you like seeing her like this? Naked, aroused, just for you, craving for your touch, your lips all over her. What would you do to her? She’s read erotic books, she rarely imagined herself as the participant, but now her thoughts were filled with those scenarios, you and her reenacting them. What sounds would you make?

She picked out a dress, a long, black dress, reaching nearly to her feet and hugging her figure perfectly, showing off her hips, drawing attention to her breasts, and her bare shoulders covered only by the thin straps. She wasn’t sure if you’d come, but she wanted to be ready, she wanted to dress up just for you, and she wanted you to tear the dress off her.

“Please come here,” she sighed, tempted to just call you, to be absolutely certain you would come and take her.

You wanted that, right?

You wanted her, right?

Please come here.

And then her landline began ringing.

~X~

You didn’t go back home right away, you had to go over to the closest town to grab strings for your acoustic guitar, since one of the strings broke last night, which was annoying, but nothing you couldn’t easily fix. As you were approaching your house you noticed the sky was getting cloudy and you were thankful you managed to come back home before it started raining.

As you parked in front of your gate to open it you noticed a letter. “Probably for mom and dad,” you guessed and grabbed it without looking at who sent it. You parked your motorcycle in the garage and went inside, dropping the letter and the spare string on the sofa. You were going with out with Cairo tomorrow and you still weren’t sure where to take her, or if she was willing to go out for a longer ride, maybe sleep somewhere else and use the entire weekend. Either way, you would figure it out in the morning.

You finished freshening up a bit and changing your clothes to something more comfortable and only then did you sit down on the sofa to check the letter you got. Right there, sticking out like a sore thumb, was Cairo’s address. The mailman must have dropped it off here instead because he didn’t feel like going all the way to Cairo’s house.

You called her, but she didn’t answer, and you figured, what the hell, the worst case scenario you could put the letter in her mailbox.

The best case scenario, you had an excuse to go and see her now.

~X~

This wasn’t what she wanted. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end up. How did her phone end up in Miller’s bag? At the start of the week she would have been elated, thinking he was what she wanted, thinking he saw her, that he could madly love her. At the start of the week she would have thought this would be the moment, she would let him take her, claim her like the books she read described, that he would be exactly what Winnie described weeks ago.

But that was at the start of the week. Now things were different and she didn’t fail to realize she, barefoot and in the dress she chose, looked like she got dressed up just for him when she simply didn’t want to risk changing and then letting the dress go to waste if you came right now. That was a mistake, she saw him. Standing there, soaked by the rain, standing on her pavement, and looking at her with unconcealed desire. His eyes consumed her, she knew he would remember this, with the way his memory worked he’d recall every curve of her dress, every detail he took notice off.

“Hello,” she spoke, confidently. He wouldn’t cross the line, he had his job to worry about. She would not get burnt by fire.

“Hi,” he replied, breathing deeply as he looked at her. “Come here,” he told her, and the reason to go over to him was obvious, her phone in his hand. She wondered if you called her or sent her a message.

She was about to go over to him, to take her phone and be done with this so he could go back to his wife, but then something drew his attention away from her, stilled his breathing and for a moment she heard nothing but drops of rain falling and breaking apart on the ground, And then she heard it, the roar of a motorcycle engine filled her ears and she felt her heart soaring, her body burning up despite the cold air surrounding her. That was the sound, that was what she wanted to hear. You came for her. You were coming.

She wasn’t sure how to explain his car parked in front of her gate. Would she need to explain of would you understand it without a single word spoken between you? Either way you parked nect to her fence and turned the engine off. Even from the distance Cairo could see the raindrops falling from your helmet and biker jacket. You walked through that gate like you used to so many times and Cairo felt her palms sweating, she wanted to step into the rain, or to make you walk faster, just so this distance would end. She wanted to hold you and be held by you, she wanted your lips on hers and all over her body. Her breathing grew just a bit faster as she watched you.

“Hey,” your lips were hidden by the helmet and she struggled to see your eyes behind the visor, but she could see the hints of softness in them. “Professor, good afternoon,” you nodded to Miller, lifting your visor up and meeting his startled gaze with a questioning look in your eyes. You looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow and then fishing into your jacket for a small umbrella, opened it and shielded the man from the rain. “You’ll catch a cold, you need to be more careful at your age,” you said it so casually, so easily that Cairo nearly lost her composure. Despite the gesture, despite the words you spoke, the tone made it clear what you meant.

And Cairo wanted to read your mind, just to see what you were actually thinking, but she couldn’t, and she certainly hoped it was along the lines of: ‘Get the fuck away from what’s mine.’ If nothing else she definitely imagine you thought that, that you were just as mad and possessive over her as she was feeling over you, because damn, she hated the very idea of anyone being intimate with you with burning passion.

“R-Right, well, uh, Cairo, I’ve given you-“ Miller stammered, red in the face and looking anywhere but at you or Cairo, he then realized he was still holding her phone. “I’m giving you back your phone!” he urgently offered her the phone she forgot. “And I’m going, nowhere, uh, elsewhere, anywhere really,” he nearly tripped as he took a few steps back. “I’ll see you two in class on Monday!” he hid inside his car, fumbling with his keys and leaving in haste as you closed the umbrella.

You sighed “Damn old fuck,” you cursed as Miller drove off and once again took something from your jacket, a letter this time, and Cairo smiled, it did bring you to her. “The mailman left this at my parent’s place. I think he doesn’t like coming all the way over here,” you joked, handing her the letter.

She nodded, smiling slightly as you came closer so she wouldn’t have to step into the rain, and her smile only widened when her fingers brushed against your gloved hand. This wasn’t just longing, she was yearning for you, craving to feel more, to touch and be touched. You were right there, your hands were touching, and your eyes widened for a moment as well, proving to her you felt something too.

“I’ll leave you to whatever you dressed up for. You look, never mind, I should go,” you turned, thinking she dressed up for someone or something else, but she couldn’t let you leave now. You took a grand total of four steps by the time she moved. She stepped into the rain and pulled you back, her phone and the letter saved from colliding with the ground only by your quick reflexes. But your reflexes couldn’t save your helmet or the umbrella from hitting the ground. “Hey! Watch the hel-“ your breath hitched, eyes meeting her own as she raised her head, her lips so close to your own she could feel the incoming burning sensation of your lips against hers. “Cairo,” you sighed, helmet forgotten somewhere on the grass near you two as you leaned down, your forehead pressing against her own.

“How do I look?” she asked, her fingers crawling up from the bottom of your jacket to the high collar, the raindrops from the sky, from your jacket, soaking her skin and the soft dress she was wearing. And she shivered, not due to the rain, not even due to the way you were looking at her, but due to the way you just pulled her closer, pressing her body so possessively to your own, the wetness seeping through her dress. This wasn’t enough, she wanted, no needed more. She needed you to get rid of the damn clothes she was wearing while she removed your own.

“Like the most tantalizing poem ever created and then given flesh,” you were out of breath, your lips ghosting over her own in the most exquisite, yet excruciatingly painful way Cairo ever felt.

“Satisfy those desires then,” she was just as out of breath as you were and it felt like the puzzle pieces fell into place, her longing, her yearning, the desires, it all went back to you. You were the one, you were her madman’s love. All the yearning, all her passion, it all exploded within her as your lips pressed against hers. As the heat of your tongue and the cold of the rain that began pouring broke her down and put her back together. Your hands roaming her body, slipping through her hair, tugging her closer, remained the only reason she wasn’t falling apart, why she still maintained her shape as you hastily threw your gloves of so your bare fingertips could touch any part of her exposed skin in your reach.

You gasped for air, breaking the kiss and leaning down while lightly tugging at her hair, and she complied, unable to resist giving in to your wishes as she exposed her neck to you. “You’re a need I can never satisfy,” you left burning hot kisses against her soaked skin, not caring about the downpour that was soaking both of you. “You’re a dream I can’t wake up from,” she felt the unfamiliar throbbing as you moved lower, to her exposed shoulder. “The only melody that can fill my silence,” Cairo closed her eyes, soft gasps escaping past her lips as she pushed your jacket down, letting the rain hit your shirt, soaking it in almost an instant, but neither of you cared. Lost in yearning and unrestrained desire, and she brought your head back up, kissing you as deeply as she could, committing the taste of you, the imperfect, lustful and loving way your tongue moved against her own once again. The string of saliva still connected her lips to yours when you separated. “You’re the desire that inspires me.”

And she captured your lips once again, not satisfied with just this. “Then be inspired, my madness. Take me in all the ways you desire,” she whispered right into your ear, sensually, seductively, for you weren’t caught in her web, you were spinning the web with her. And she was all yours, more than you knew, more than you could imagine, but she was, indeed, all yours. And she said it. “I’m yours, every part of me, in every way you want me. Love me, Y/N,” she sighed, opening her mouth in a soundless cry as you sucked on her neck, marking her as your own.

~X~

You woke up to the sound of soft breathing close to your ear and you moved just a bit, just so you could hug her. Cairo hummed, muttering something you couldn’t quite understand, well, other than the word ‘mine’ that one you clearly heard. That got you to grin as you opened your eyes and saw her snuggling up against you, she was sleeping with her head on top of you, just above your chest in fact and she had an arm and leg draped over your body.

The two of you fell asleep like that last night. Naked. Satisfied. With your clothes thrown all over her room and the letter she wrote to you lying somewhere either on the bed itself or near it. Damn, the letter would remain burnt into your memory for the rest of your life. She went into detail on what she wanted, how she wanted you to take her, excluding one detail she wasn’t aware of, You took a deep breath, trying to calm down as the words she said and the tone she used came to your mind.

“What’s on your mind?” she suddenly asked and you looked down to see her eyes still closed but the tone of her voice and the way she tightened her grip on your waist told you she was definitely awake now.

“Hmm, you’ll have to kiss the answer out of me,” you told her, and you should have expected it, really. After all, this was Cairo. She got up and kissed you, her lips capturing your in an instant as she took the lead. She nibbled on your lower lip, moaning slightly against it as you caressed her back.

“Like that?” she asked with a mischievous look in her eyes.

You nodded, grinning a bit. “So, I’m thinking about how you sounded last night. Your moans, cries, I’m recalling how you fell apart while I was inside you, crying and begging for more,” you smirked a bit as she pressed against you and just for a moment stopped breathing as you spoke.

And then she smirked back. “Well, I figured you liked your girls to be loud, seeing how much you rely on your hearing,” she told you with a hint o jealousy in her voice.

You flipped the two of you over, so you were on top. “Girl. As in one,” you reassured her and caressed her cheek. “Just you, Cairo.”

The smile on her lips could have charmed anyone and you were at her mercy, but she was at your mercy as well, just as affected by you as you were affected by her.

A/N: Well, here’s a question for you, do I write chapter 8, or the smut first?

Taglist: @deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae

@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh @autorasexy

[heartsiez]

MINE.

when they’re put in a situation that makes them feel jealous

⌗ kazuha and scaramouche x gn reader (seperate)

⌗ jealous behaviour, possessive behaviour, idk what else. their parts are like a one shot in their own HELP.

— kazuha

as the cherry blossom petals swirled around you and kazuha, you couldn't help but feel content. you had known kazuha for a while now, and had grown to appreciate his company more and more each time you were together. today, the two of you had decided to take a stroll through the park and enjoy the beautiful scenery.

you’d just gotten off work at a local café in inazuma. it was insanely busy today, causing you to get stressed out. many customers wanted the same thing, causing the item to go out of stock, which caused others to be mad because what they wanted wasn’t available. you’d go into more detail but just the thought of it stresses you out.

once you stepped out of the building you knew straight away you needed kazuha with you to ease off all of your negative emotions. you really did love kazuha, he was always able to clear your head with just a word. you may not be dating yet, but it’s clear as day to anyone that you both have feelings for each other.

anyways, that’s where it brings you to now. you were in the middle of telling kazuha about your day when you suddenly spotted a familiar figure in the distance causing you to pause your movements, kazuha copying with a confused look.

it was your ex.

you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as memories flooded your mind. you hadn't seen your ex in months, and you had thought that you had moved on from the heartbreak they had caused you. which, you have moved on, but you still can’t help the familiar feelings that come over you. it makes you feel guilty because kazuhas right next to you.

your ex noticed you, both locking eyes. you wanted to tear your eyes away from them, or even pull your eyes out of your sockets but you just couldn’t look away.

as your ex approached, you tensed up, unsure of how to react. to your surprise, your ex greeted you with a warm smile and a friendly hug. you hesitated, but you couldn't help but reciprocate, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over you.

kazuha, who had been watching the entire interaction (even from when you first noticed them), felt a pang of jealousy shoot through him.

he had grown to care deeply for you, wanting to keep you by his side forever, and the sight of you interacting with your ex made him very uneasy. he tried to brush off the feeling, reminding himself that you were the one with him now (even if not officially), and that your ex was just permanently a part of your past.

you pulled away from your ex, turning back to kazuha with a guilty, and apologetic look. “uhm, kazu, this is my…” you trailed off awkwardly, not really knowing what to call them. kazuha already knew who this person was to you, you just didn’t wanna seem rude officially introducing your ex, as your ex.

“i’m their old friend.” they continued for you, offering out their hand for him with a sweet smile, though the wind told kazuha different.

“it’s… a surprise to meet you.” kazuha took their hand with swift haste, an obvious fake smile plastered. you cleared your throat as they both pulled away, moving back to stand next to kazuha you looked to him, and he looked back.

“you don’t mind if they spend the rest of the day with us?” you asked, a sheepish smile on your face as kazuha let out a sigh only you could really hear. “of course not, it would be my pleasure to meet an old friend of your past.” he made sure to clarify.

“great…” your ex looked at him with a challenging look and then turned around. “i saw there was a place just past those trees over there, let’s go take a look.”

they took your wrist pulling you with them, scaring you out of surprise. you looked back to kazuha who was quick to follow you two, though mainly focusing on the connection between your wrist and their hand. his eyes finally travelled up to meet yours and you offered him an apologetic smile, as in to say everything will go fine from now on.

however, as the day went on, kazuha couldn't shake the wretched feeling inside of him. he just wanted to steal you away forever, not liking the feeling of someone else being a threat to you two. and your ex was one. they seemed to be getting too close for comfort, and kazuha couldn't help but feel like he was slowly being pushed out of the picture.

the sun began to set, and your ex had already said their goodbyes, apologising that it must be weird for you and that they overstayed their visit. kazuha was glad they finally seemed to realise.

he pulled you aside, away from everyone else who was still in the cherry blossom park, thought not much. you looked at him with a curious look, both your arms crossed over each other. he took a deep breath before speaking, his voice low and hesitant.

"i know i shouldn't feel this way, and it’s not my place to really say this, but seeing you with your ex today... it made me feel… horrible. i care about you a lot, and the thought of losing you to someone from your past scares me."

you were a little shocked. i mean, kazuha feeling insecure? usually he knows whether or whether not he should be feeling vulnerable in a situation, because the wind whispers the secrets to him. so he must be feeling really upset if he’s not trusting the winds of the archon.

you continued to stare at him, trying to find out how he was really feeling inside from his face. you could see the pain and vulnerability in his eyes, and your heart ached for him. you felt guilty.

you took his hand and pulled him into a tight embrace, "kazuha, you have nothing to worry about. you're the one i want to be with, and nothing will ever change that. my ex is just a part of my past, but you... you're my present and my future." you smiled at him warmly.

kazuha's tense shoulders relaxed as he returned the embrace, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. he had been so worried about losing you, but hearing your words made him feel more secure in your relationship. the negativ emotion on his face disappeared, getting it replaced with a way more positive one.

as the two of you pulled away, kazuha leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. he grabbed the wrist your ex held earlier, and pulled it up to his lips to kiss, his eyes not breaking eye contact the entire time.

the rest of the evening was spent in a comfortable silence, the two of you enjoying each other's company as the sun set over the horizon. the memory of your exes visit was fading fast along with the light in the sky.

you knew that there would be more challenges ahead for you both, but with kazuha by your side, you felt confident that the two of you could overcome anything together.

lol corny.

— scaramouche

scaramouche, the cunning and mischievous harbinger of the fatui, had always been a man of many talents. but there was one thing that he couldn't quite control - his jealousy. and as he watched you interact with aether from behind a wall, scaramouche couldn't help but feel a rising sense of possessiveness.

you lived with scaramouche in the fatui headquarters as his assistant, and loving partner. your best friend, aether, would usually visit you sometimes with scaramouches permission, but he never really knew what you two got up to since he was always out on missions when aether was there.

this was the first time he was present while aether visited and he’d never felt such regret in saying yes before. he wished he never gave permission to that blonde.

while scaramouche had tried to ignore the growing friendship between the two of you, he found it increasingly difficult to do so throughout the day. aether was a charismatic and friendly traveler, and it was visible to the eye that you seemed to enjoy spending time with him, much to scaramouches dismay.

as scaramouche continued to watch the two of you talk and laugh, he couldn't help but feel a nagging murderous feeling in his chest. he knew that he had no right to feel this way, mostly because you’d get extremely angry at him if you found out he wanted to kill your best friend... but he couldn't help the way he felt.

then, to add salt on his internal wound, aether leaned in closer to you, his hand brushing against yours. scaramouche's eyes narrowed as he watched the interaction, feeling a surge of anger. if aether didn’t mean that much to you he would’ve already ripped that plat off.

as he started to slowly get a better look of the two of you, he noticed something that surprised him - aether seemed completely oblivious to what he was doing. he was just being friendly, completely unaware of the intimate actions he was creating, and of the harbinger's leaking jealousy flowing throughout the entire building.

scaramouche took a deep, long breath, trying to calm himself down. he knew that he couldn't let his emotions get the best of him, especially not near you and aether. one noise and you’d hear him, which would cause you to find him and boast him with questions.

it’s okay. he can last… at least that’s what he told himself.

as the day went on, scaramouche found it harder and harder to control his burning jealousy. it felt like a forest fire inside of him. he didn't want to lose you to some prick, and the sight and thought of aether getting too close to you made him feel sick to his stomach.

finally, it was night and you three sat around a small table chatting. well, it was mostly just you and aether speaking while scaramouche held back a nasty look to him.

as he sat there anticipating for the time aether would leave, he saw something that made the last thread inside of him snap. aether had tucked some short hair strands behind your ear, then his hand trailed down your neck and rested on your shoulder as you continued to speak. it was an innocent friendly gesture, but scaramouche had had enough. he stood up abruptly, glaring at aether sharply.

"i think it's time for you to leave," he said, his voice harsh and fast to leave his body.

aether looked up, surprised. "what? why?" he asked.

"because i don't want you around here anymore," scaramouche replied, his voice laced with venom.

you looked between the two of them, confused and slightly angered by scaramouche's sudden outburst. "scaramouche, what's going on?" you asked, reaching out to touch his arm.

but scaramouche pulled away from you. you looked at him, slightly hurt from what he did, but in a way that you knew you upset him in some way seriously which made you upset.

his eyes dark and his jaw clenched. "i said leave, aether," he repeated, his voice colder than before.

aether stood up slowly, looking between you and scaramouche with a mix of confusion and concern. "i don't understand what's going on, but if you want me to leave, i will," he said, his voice calm and measured. “i’ll see you!” he said with an awkward smile, you giving a sad one back.

as aether gathered his things and prepared to leave, you turned your attention back to scaramouche, your voice hurt and angry. "what was that about?" you demanded, your voice shaking with emotion.

scaramouche's expression softened slightly as he looked at you, but the jealousy was still evident in his eyes. "i'm sorry," he said, his voice low. "i just... i don't like seeing you with him. i don't want to lose you. the way he touched you just then and today i…”

you sighed, feeling torn between your feelings for scaramouche and your friendship with aether. "scaramouche, you know that you don't have to be jealous," you said, trying to reason with him. "i care about you, and i'm not going anywhere."

scaramouche nodded, his expression still pained. "i know that, but... i can't help the way i feel."

you reached out to take his hand, squeezing it gently. "i understand that, but you can't just push people away when you feel threatened," you said gently. "it's not fair to them, or to me."

scaramouche nodded again, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "i know, and i'm sorry. i'll try to do better," he said, his voice heavy with regret.

you smiled at him, feeling the tension between you start to dissipate. "that's all i can ask," you said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "let's just focus on enjoying the peace we’ll have together, okay?"

scaramouche's lips twitched up into a small smile as he leaned in to return the kiss. "okay," he said, his voice softening. "together."

⌗ hai i’m back:3 took a little break bc of writers block……………. um……… not proof read bc i’m honestly still in writers block i just feel bad for not posting. would u believe me if i told u ai helped me out with the ideas of these prompts

[iovesia]

what do you think various keanuverse characters reactions would be to reader still sleeping with a stuffed animal at night?

guilty as charged, anon 😞

reader with stuffed animal,⠀౨ৎ⠀keanuverse. cw⠀/⠀f!reader. fluff. slight angst.

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄.

he's just a little weirded out, i'm afraid. constantine's used to his grimy, "minimalist" apartment, and his bed which only has decade old sheets and plain blankets. so when you come over, and pull out a bright teddy bear— he's a little.. perplexed.

"the hell is that?" he furrows his brows as he steps back in from the balcony, smoke staining his scent. the pink plushy lays right beside you on the bed, taking constantine's spot on his pillow.

"it's nothing.." you dismiss, shrugging your shoulders. but the way you're borderline nuzzling that pink stuffy says something different.

"aren't you a little old for that?" constantine raises a brow as he unbuttons his shirt.

"aren't you a little old in general?" you quip back defensively, making him chuckle. it was cute seeing you bite back. like a chihuahua.

"woah— excuse me, princess," constantine holds his hands up in mock surrender before crawling into bed beside you. the stiff mattress squeaks under the weight, silently signalling to constantine it's time for a new one.

of course he'll tease you about it a little, and maybe even try to subtly wean you off it. but as soon as you start getting upset about it, he'll let it go. if it brings you comfort, he guesses there's no harm. (even if now he losing late night cuddles to an inanimate object— he's totally not.. at all... jealous...).

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊.

john doesn't judge you, and thinks it's sweet :') if you need a stuffed toy as a result of trauma or simply just having something to soothe you to sleep— he sympathises with you. when john was a little boy, he had his own thing to help him sleep: a small baby blue cotton blanket he's had since he was orphaned. it was dirty and worn out, and it was his.

but he was quickly robbed of that, much like everything else close to him.

the sun is barely peeking through the window as john's already dressed, tightening the belt around his waist. in the reflection of the long mirror, he sees you in the back, fast asleep and buried under his duvets.

he smiles softly, seeing that your stuffed animal fell off the side of the bed. walking over quietly, john picks up the small animal, a wave of nostalgia tugging his heartstrings.

john places the stuffed animal back in your arms, kissing your forehead gently.

𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍.

you're telling me this guy DOESN'T also have one?? he does. ted is very lowkey about it, and kind of embarrassed. he doesn't think it's very sex-god-rockstar-eddie-van-halen of him to still be cuddling with a teddy or stuffed animal.

"awww, what's this?" you smile, picking up the small inanimate creature on his bed. it was a cowboy hat attached, with a sewn heart in the middle of it's chest.

the blood rushes to ted's cheeks, and painfully forced chuckles leave his lips. he quickly snatches it from your hand, trying to seem non-chalant as he tosses it to the side.

"oh that? that's—that's nothing. just a .. stupid toy— it's my brother's—" ted waves his hand as he tries to act nonchalant, and chill, and totally not super embarrassed.

safe to say when you pull up to his house next time with your own, he's grinning ear-to-ear: relieved and also a hell of a lot more in love with you.

©⠀iovesia,⠀⠀2024.⠀⠀do⠀⠀not⠀⠀plagiarize⠀⠀or⠀⠀repost.

[whereireid]

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒

pairing: miles quaritch x fem!reader | masterlist

Summary: Miles hates mornings, but they're significantly better when he wakes up next to you.

— warnings: fluff // nsfw content; mild somnophilia, [dubious consent], orgasms.

Miles Quaritch hates mornings. The shine of the early light, though beautiful, carries an unappealing chill, a reminder that he’s got a full day of fighting for a cause that he's no longer sure is worth fighting for. He grimaces as the sunshine begins to bleed through his blinds, his tail flicking irritably as his green eyes adapt to the change of light. 

His eyes fall on you.

You, so small, curled up against him, your entire body sheathed against his chest. You, held close by his right arm which is draped over your sleeping frame, your mouth parted slightly as sleep consumes you, soft, sleepy breaths slipping past your plump lips.

You're warm. So warm.

Quartich’s lips quirk upwards slightly as he brushes his nose against the nape of your neck, a quiet hum of content sliding past his lips as he breathes in your scent. Creamy magnolias, fresh-linen. You smell familiarly Earthy, like home, and a wave of nostalgia breezes through him as his tongue runs over your hot skin.

He can feel himself itching to get closer to you. He can feel his cock straining against his stomach, and his fingers gently darting down towards your plush thighs, parting the flesh carefully as he eagerly shuffles; positioning himself so he can easily glide his cock between your pillowy legs.

“Fuck,” he growls as beads of precum dribble down his lavender tip, smearing against your skin as he gently places his hardened length between your thighs. 

Quaritch wonders if you’ll stir. He begins to move, his hips rolling lazily, his eyes flittering shut in bliss. He loves you, more than anything, but your sleeping, innocent frame brings out a more sinister side of him.

His sharp canines nip against your neck, and he flattens his hand against your stomach. His jaw tenses, and he wants to wake you up and pin you against him, rutting into you like that’s all you’re good for.

“Oh, darlin’,” he murmurs breathily, his body sparking with electiricty your thighs pillow his cock. He can feel your skin ripple with goosebumps, and he presses lazy kisses to the nape of your neck. “Makin’ your daddy nice an’ proud, even when you’re sleeping.”

He pushes you against him, needy for your touch. He has to smell you, scent you, taste you. He feels you stir, and he begins to grow impatient as you wake, his thrusts become sloppy, desperate and deranged.

You begin to wake, and a soft, confused sigh slips past your lips. Quaritch grins, and he clamps his teeth down on the crook of your neck, and you attempt to jolt away from him.

Your state of confusion sparks arousal within him, and he keeps his hand pressed against your navel. You whine and squirm, the feeling of his wet cock gliding between your thighs making your own stomach spark with desire, and you shiver as his biting sends pain coursing through you.

“Ow,” you mumble sleepily, your cunt dripping wet against his length as he slides in and out of your legs. “You bit me.”

“I did." Quartich responds, his voice low and dangerous, his fingers moving down towards your cunt and parting your sticky folds. "Good morning."

A gasp is drawn from your lips as a result, your body involuntary twitching as the pad of his thumb rolls lazy circles against your swollen bud. His touch is familiar and comforting, and you find yourself growing hazy with bliss.

“G’morning,” you say, your legs intertwining with his as he continues his lazy, sluggish thrusts. “You woke up excited?”

Quaritch hums. It ripples similarly to a growl, his chest vibrating, and you shiver. “So did you,” he answers, his fingers gliding inside of your heat, humming as your walls clench down around his digits.

His embrace crushes you, and your chest heaves with excitement. It’s difficult to breathe when he’s near you, let alone tangled limb-to-limb, and you find yourself rolling your hips with his, following his sloppy motions. You wonder how long he had been grinding against you, how long he had held back from touching you before he did so.

Fingers curling inside of you, warmth blooms inside of your stomach. Your lower belly feels tense, and you flush wildly as you hear Quaritch’s heavy balls slap lewdly against your thighs with each thrust of his hips.

Lips pressing against your neck, tongue drawing lazy circles against your skin, he purrs as you press against him. Your body is so hot, blazing with desire, and he feels that his edging is coming to an end. He doesn't want it to.

“I woke you up to a nice surprise,” he slurs, his voice tainted with lust. “Nice and early. Just us. Me and you, and your thighs and your cunt.”

“You did,” you agree, your voice breathy and lewd, your stomach pooling with an insatiable warmth. "Thank you for the surprise."

Quartich smiles as you giggle. “Tell me, darlin’, were you dreamin’ of me? ‘Cause you were already so wet when I started to fuck these pretty little legs.” As though to make a point, he pulls his fingers out of you with a lewd squelch, and delivers a hearty slap to your plush thighs.

Where his palm makes contact with your skin, a blaze is set alight. You whimper at the loss of his fingers fucking into you, and you buck against him. “Yes, I was dreaming of you,” you admit, your eyes flittering shut. “Please, keep touching me,” you beg, and he doesn’t protest, instead listening to your pleas, his fingers pushing inside of you again.

“Well, then," he says, "I’m sorry for wakin’ you up, darlin’. I didn’t want to interrupt your dreams if I knew they were about me.” His voice is bittersweet, cruel but teasing. 

You choke on a helpless moan, your eyes prickling with tears as his fingers begin to, once again, work their magic. His fingers curl, and each time they do, a lewd squelching sound is dragged from your cunt, and his ears prick upwards every time. It’s a melody, one that he wants written down and tattooed onto his skin. Moans clamber from your throat as his fingers tilt inside of you, so deep that his knuckles begin to press against the curve of your ass.

“This is much better than my dream,” you whimper, your legs shaking slightly, your thighs beginning to burn from his movements.

He hisses as your thighs tense, cushioning the mushroom head of his cock as a result. He sneaks his other hand towards your head, his fingers finding their way into your curls. “I could’ve been mean. I could have woken you up to some spankings. Tainted your pretty little ass red,” he taunts, his teeth dragging against your shoulder, and he tugs softly on your hair.

Quaritch is bent impossibly, desperate to be close to you. Your skin is set alight, your body reacting to every slow, teasing curl of his fingers, and he lets out a breathy groan against your neck. Your pillowy thighs, your glistening sun-kissed skin, the faint smell of magnolias and your cunt, drives him wild.

“I’m gonna paint your thighs with my cum and you’re gonna stew in it until I finish training some of the new recruits,” he tells you, his breath hitching slightly as you buck against him, your cunt tightening around his fingers. “If you even clean yourself up a little bit, ‘m gonna beat that pretty ass pink ‘til you can’t walk anymore. ‘Til it hurts to sit.” He hums, his teeth clamping down on your shoulder. “Might fuck it, too.”

You whine at that, and Quaritch tugs at your hair softly. He doesn’t want to be too mean, not this early. His eyes are focused on your face, his pupils blown and sheathing his emerald green irises as he ruts into your thighs. 

It feels like heaven to be pressed between your legs. He thrusts effortlessly, listening to how your moans echo around his bedroom as he fucks his fingers into you, the sounds encouraging him to speed up the rolling of his hips. He wants to hear your whorish moans grow louder and louder, but the sound of his team stirring in the rooms besides yours taint his vulgar imagination, because you can’t be too loud.

You’re never too loud, not when you know people are nearby. So, he has to listen intently to hear you, and his ears twitch as he desperately tries to pick up on your pleasurable noises.

He forces himself to slow down, focusing on you. Your breathing, the soft sound of your breathy moans. Your parted lips, pump and needy, begging to be kissed, and he tries — oh, Lord, does he try, moving desperately to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth — but it’s impossible. He’s bent and you’re curled and the position you’re in is leaving both of your muscles burning, but the desire for more pleasure overrides the neurons of pain which shoot through you.

You sound like an angel. You look like an angel, and he wants to taint you. Ruin you. You’re feathery and soft, so symbolic; heavenly. He wants to drag you to the depths of hell with him, and he feels the head of his cock twitch as you moan his name.

“Please,” you whimper, and he drags his hand away from your hair, moving it down towards your breast. You gasp and push and pull away from him as his fingers roll the sensitive nub between his index and forefinger.

“Please what?” He asks, his voice low and playful as his touch sends sparks coursing through your system. When you don’t speak, instead panting and whining, writhing from his touch, he says, “please, what?”

You can feel the gentle thrumming of his heart against your chest as he toys with you. He keeps toying with your nipples, and then he presses his hand on your chest, hard, pulling you against him, his fingers still working their magic inside of you.

Though he’s desperate for his own orgasm, needy for relief, the edging now causing him to burn and grow irritable, he knows what he wants for you. He wants to hear his angel beg; wants you to fall from heaven and join him in his depths of despair. Your muscles grow rigid, and your thighs clench as he bites you again, lapping up the crimson blood which spills as a result of his canines piercing your skin.

“Please, can I cum?”

He smirks. “Yes, darlin’, you may.”

A choked sob racks through your chest at his words, tears sliding down your cheeks. You clench around his fingers as you cum, your thighs convulsing, twitching, sending him over his own edge. You paint his blue fingers white, the product of your orgasm sticking against his skin, and he lets out a dirty groan as you squeeze his cock, sheathing him in a disgusting brood of pleasure.

Your thighs glisten with your squirt, and Quaritch’s pupils grow blackened and blown as a result. “Oh, fuck,” he breathes, his hips jolting as he stains your skin with ropes of his cum.

You feel his hot liquid hit your thighs, and some of it is wasted on the bedsheets. You curl your hand into a fist, your eyes burning with tears as you grip the silk pillowcase desperately. You’ve orgasmed, but he’s still scissoring his fingers inside of youm toying with your needy cunt.

Quartich begs, “another, please. Give me another, darlin’. You can do it.”

He can’t hide his pursuit. He wants you tainting his skin, wants to lick your cream off of his fingers. He wants to hear you moan, pure and harmonious, and you nod your head vigorously, your body shaking as you desperately chase your second high.

This time, your body grows lax. You grow limp against him, a quiet whimper gliding past your lips as your cum trickles down his fingers, slowly, teasingly. He watches, his chest heaving and burning with passion and desire, his heart thumping in his chest as he readjusts himself, his cock rubbing against your sticky, cum-covered thighs.

Miles Quaritch hates mornings, but it’s better when he’s got you beside him to get him through his struggles of morning wood.

[peachhcs]

Celly propt 7 where Sammy wears Will jersey for the first time as a couple at BC or could be done in the USA era when Will realizes he has felling for Sammy

in his jersey | the wonder years

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

the pining continues between samy and will during the wonder years when she wears his jersey to his ntdp game

1.7k words

i got a bit carried away when writing this lmao. i know this is a celly request, but i also feel like this ask fits into samy and will's wonder years category. writing their pining is soo cutie because they're so oblivious to one another. also posting another fic bc i feel bad leaving y'all dry for a couple days😭

700 celly masterlist | au masterlist

samy pulled the baseball cap further down her head as she sunk into the bleachers beside will's parents. she sported her friend's number across her back, trying to ignore the glaring looks from the other girls three rows down. they were regulars at the home games only because they had crushes on each of the players—specifically will. when samy walked into the rink wearing will's number across her back daggers were instantly shot. those girls were definitely not happy seeing samy wear her friend's number.

she tried ignoring them knowing they were just jealous she knew will specifically. she'd be happy to befriend them, but after months of just glaring, it was obvious they didn't wanna be samy's friend. instead, she sat with her parents and kept her attention on the boys down on the ice doing their warmups.

her eyes glued themselves to her best friend wearing the number 2 which was the same number spread across her back along with his last name. he skated around the ice with gabe and ryan, the three of them doing their warmups together like always. she loved seeing the three of them down there together, smiles painted on each of their lips being able to play the sport they loved together. 

it was also a bit of nostalgia knowing their last games playing for the ntdp were coming close. spring was right around the corner which also meant u18 worlds and after that the boys were completely done with the program. something about all of that felt bittersweet for the boys and samy. 

what would she do without them bugging her either in ann arbor or plymouth every weekend? will finally found her gaze when he looked towards the stands. the smile never left his lips as he waved. it was pretty known by now that he always waved at samy first before shifting his attention to his parents beside her. the blonde skated towards the glass and nodded his head to the right, an indication that he wanted samy down at the open entrance. 

while getting up, the youngest hughes directed a smirk in those other girls' direction. she knew she was about to piss all of them off when they watched her and will interact on the floor. what samy didn't know was that will saw the entire thing. 

he knew those girls liked him and were most definitely jealous of samy. he knew getting her in his jersey would shut them right up and finally get off his back by sending a clear message that he liked his best friend! (of course, samy had no idea though). 

"they're gonna bully my dms if you keep that up," the blonde lifted his helmet as he skated right up to the door where samy waited. 

the girl's entire face flushed in embarrassment, "you saw that?" she grimaced. 

"yeah, i did. it was endearing though. seeing you brag in their faces that you're mine," sometimes will's confidence grew a little too much and he said things without thinking. his own face flushed after realizing he said that. 

"i'm yours, huh?" samy raised her eyebrow. 

"shut up, you know what i mean," but she didn't. she didn't really get what will meant and how badly he wanted to really call her his. 

his stupid feelings were only getting worse and seeing her in his jersey with his all-time favorite number wasn't helping. however, his chest swelled with pride and a feeling of possessiveness knowing that everyone in the arena would see his name plastered across her back. 

"you look good in my jersey, by the way," will pulled at the material that basically swallowed up samy's small frame. 

"i still wonder how you convinced me to wear this," the brunette teased a bit, but secretly she loved it. 

her stupid feelings were only growing stronger and when will begged her to wear his jersey to his game the other day samy nearly confessed right there. even though it was fun watching her best friend beg her for something, she would've worn it regardless. 

"i'm pretty convincing," the boy shrugged smugly. samy rolled her eyes, but the smile on her lips betrayed her trying to act unfazed. 

"good luck tonight, will. you guys are gonna do great," she reached up to place a gentle kiss to his cheek because 1. she always did that and 2. she wanted to make those girls even more jealous than they were. who cared if they went and bullied her and will's dms later. 

"thanks, hughesy. see you after the game?" it was a miracle she didn't notice will's heart eyes. 

"you know where to find me," they said their goodbyes before will's coach came after him for not warming up. 

the game revved up to 5-3 with the ntdp boys on the winning side. samy was on her feet as she cheered on her best friends flying across the ice. the trio worked so well together, speaking wordlessly with one another as they trusted each other and passed the puck around the opposing team. it was almost like a dream watching those boys play and that feeling of bittersweet crept back into samy's mind. 

u18s and then the nhl draft in a few months meaning all of them joining the professional world. it was a day that seemed so far away when they were younger and was now just months away. 

"let's go will!" samy yelled down as the forward made his third goal of the night bringing the score to 6-3. 

the crowd erupted in cheers. the brunette smiled seeing will do his celly with ryan and gabe. immediately, the boy's gaze spun around to find samy's in the stands. they found one another pretty quickly and will pointed up at her, the happiness glowing across his features. his gesture earned a small blush across her cheeks while her parents and will's sent the girl knowing looks because of course they knew their kids liked one another before they even knew. 

once the game finished, samy waited around near the locker room for will to emerge. she usually leaned against the wall scrolling through her phone until the boy came running out. tonight was no different. twenty minutes after the game ended, the blonde was rushing out of the locker room in a happy daze. his curls were hardly even dry as he scooped samy into his arms, spinning her around so her feet weren't even on the ground. 

"so proud of you, will. you played so good," the girl gushed into his shoulder. 

"you always make me play well," his flirting earned another blush on samy's face.  

"shoulda known this was why will pushed everyone out of the way to shower first," ryan teased as he came out a moment later with gabe. 

the boys snickered with one another, but will didn't find it amusing. "shut up," he mumbled. 

"good to see ya, hughes. thanks for coming," ryan collected samy into his own hug. 

"duh, like i'd ever miss a game. you guys played so well," she pinched their cheeks which annoyed the hell out of them, but they let her do it anyway. 

"how much did smitty pay you to wear his jersey?" gabe continued with the chirping. 

all of them but will shared a laugh. he was not finding their remarks as amusing as he usually would tonight, "jesus, do you guys ever shut up?" 

"just a bit of begging and he convinced me," samy squeezed will's arm.

"begging? like hands and knees?" ryan hollered. poor will was now red in the face and wanted to rip his friends' heads off before they said anything more stupid. 

"just like that," samy didn't help. 

"don't we have to meet our parents. i thought they wanted to go out to dinner," will cut in before someone said anything else. 

"right, they're in the lobby," the brunette grabbed ahold of will's arm as they walked together to find their parents. 

after hugging his parents, the two families headed out to find something to eat. will climbed into samy's car since she drove herself up knowing the blonde would most definitely convince her to come back to his house for awhile which then resulted in her sleeping over. good thing it was saturday night and neither of them had practice tomorrow. 

"what am i gonna do when you're a hundred miles away in the fall?" will's gaze fell on samy's even though she was focusing on her parents' car in front of them as they followed them to the restaurant. 

"tough question. probably die," samy teased a little. 

"probably, yeah. i don't think i've ever really played a game without you there," the blonde admitted. she found his gaze for a second. the whole idea of graduating and going to college was a thought swirling around both of their minds lately. 

"i'll be there in spirit watching you through my laptop." 

"not the same, but i guess it'll have to do," will sighed a bit. 

"you know boston's gonna be really lucky to have you. you're a legacy," she poked his arm that was dangerously close to hers on the center console, but it wasn't like either of them were gonna move their arms away. 

"you are too, you know. by association," will smiled. 

"i think quinn and luke nearly fainted when i made it official i was going to michigan," the brunette hummed. 

"michigan definitely gained a good one. you're gonna kill it on the field." 

she met the boy's still lingering gaze. the two shared a loving smile still so oblivious to each other's feelings. they were so obvious, yet both of them didn't see it no matter what anyone said or did. 

the drunk makeouts didn't count because they were drunk, right? the lingering touches was just a friend thing, right? the constant teasing from both of their friends was stupid because none of them knew what they were talking about, right?

wrong. so, so wrong. 

samy did in fact end up back at will's house after dinner. the two curled up on the couch with the tv playing a movie, but neither of them were really paying attention because all they could think about was one another and who would finally have enough courage to confess their feelings. 

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

Summer Fic Week 2023 - Day 7: Take Back What You Took

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Work Summary:

The season is over, and it's the resort staff party. Andy has a bone to pick.

Sequel to Leave Me In The Deep End.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2998

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Summer Fics Masterlist.

Taglist: @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye @mcximffs @noz4a2 @rottenstyx @starmansirius @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @lanemarvels @marrigold-2002 @kathrinchek @alternativeprincess @annocaprosmaloka @thrutheburnout

Notes:

wooooooooo day 7, give it up for day 7

warnings for alcohol, public sex, accidental exhibitionism/voyeurism, fighting, protective!pietro, protective!wanda, mentions of cheating, unprotected sex

again, i apologise to all of the people named andy out there

---

As you walked into the resort for the final time that year, you were overcome by a wave of nostalgia. The season was over. All of the guests had gone home, to your great relief. Tonight was the annual staff party.

The seasonal job market was strange. You had other work lined up – waitressing at family-owned restaurant across town – but you knew you would miss the resort. You would miss working with your friends, most of all Pietro. Of course, you would be back next year, as would he. You hoped (probably fruitlessly) that Andy wouldn’t come back.

You’d been seeing Pietro for a little over a month now, and it had been going really well. He slept over at your place a lot (he shared his own apartment with his sister, and you shared yours with a cat, so the choice for him was obvious).

Andy still worked at the resort, which made things a little awkward, but you were perfectly content to keep your distance from him. Pietro had more contact with him than you did, since they were both bartenders, but they hadn’t come to blows yet.

You rolled up to the party a little early. Hardly anyone had arrived yet, but there were tables of food and drinks set up, which you took advantage of. Pietro was coming with his sister, so you were content to help Nat set up the last few decorations.

“Odds on there being a fight tonight?” she asked you as you handed her a bunch of balloons. She was standing on ladder, getting ready to pin them up by the edge of the banner.

“There won’t be a fight,” you said, sounding surer than you felt.

Aside from anything else, Andy could get belligerent when he was drunk, and Pietro could be hot-headed.

Nat gave you a sideways glance. “You sure? You know Sharon’s gonna be here, right? It’s pretty messy between her and Steve at the moment.”

Your cheeks heated up. You hadn’t even thought of the possibility of someone else getting into a fight.

“Nah, Steve’s too much of a gentleman to get into it in public.”

“If you say so.”

People started arriving in dribs and drabs. Thankfully, Andy was nowhere to be seen. You sat down on a couch with a mixed drink in your hand, listening idly to a story that Sam was telling.

The only warning you got that your boyfriend had arrived was a pair of strong arms wrapping around your shoulders from behind. You might’ve flinched, but you recognised his cologne.

“Prinţesă,” he cooed. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Piet,” you scolded, batting his hands away. Sam, Steve and Bucky were all staring at you, a variety of amused expressions on their faces.

“I only tell the truth. Drink?”

“I’ve got one,” you said, holding up your glass. “But honestly it doesn’t hold a candle to your Sex on the Beach.” As a bartender, Pietro was very good at making drinks. Andy was a bartender too, but he’d never particularly been interested in making drinks for you. He didn’t want to take work home with him, you supposed.

“I’ll be right back,” said Pietro, dropping a kiss on the top of your head.

As soon as he was gone, you felt the weight of another person sitting down on the arm of the sofa you were leaning on.

You looked up and were relieved to see that it was Wanda. She looked absolutely gorgeous in a red dress that stood out against her pale skin.

“How are you doing, dragă?” she asked. The two of you had always been friendly. You had half-expected her to dislike you after you started dating Pietro – after all, she was pretty protective of him – but thankfully, the two of you had only seemed to grow closer.

“I’m good, what about you? Excited to be done for the summer?” You knew she was going back to college soon.

“Honestly? I think I’ll miss it once I start having to write essays again.”

“Yeah, I’m glad that part of my life is over.”

A shadow loomed over you suddenly. You turned, expecting Pietro, but from the sour expression that had suddenly come over Wanda’s face, you knew it wouldn’t be.

“Hey,” said Andy. He looked a little unsteady on his feet, like he’d been pre-drinking. Who pre-drinks before a work party with an open bar?

“Hi.” You looked over at Pietro, but he’d been waylaid talking to Scott and Hope. Beside you, Wanda got to her feet. You suddenly felt very vulnerable being the only person sitting down.

“I was hoping we could talk?” He glanced at Wanda, who glared back at him.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” you said. You stood up, fully intending to go and find Pietro, but Andy threw a hand out, blocking your path.

“Don’t touch her,” Wanda hissed. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Andy put his hand up in surrender. “Not touching. Just wanna talk.”

“She said she doesn’t want to talk.”

“Wanda, it’s okay,” you said, touching her arm. If Andy wanted to apologise, then you weren’t going to stop him.

He gave you a hard stare. “I just think it’s really funny how quickly you moved on after we broke up.”

That threw you for a loop. You looked at Wanda, who looked just as scandalised as you did.

“Excuse me?” you said, as if you could’ve possibly misheard him. “What did you just say?”

“I said I think it’s funny how quickly you moved on after we broke up.” His speech was slurred, so you knew he had been drinking. You doubted he would’ve had the balls to talk to you like this otherwise, especially not in front of people. “And you and Pietro were always so friendly, so, like-”

You looked at Wanda. “Are you hearing this?”

“The audacity of this asshole,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

You looked back over to where Pietro was, and found him staring back at you. As soon as you made eye contact, he said something to Scott, and then started walking towards you. If there was going to be a fight tonight, it was about to happen.

“I’m the asshole?” Andy scoffed.

“Yes, you’re the asshole,” you said. “You fucking cheated on me! You don’t get to have an opinion about who I sleep with after I broke up with you.”

“You know it’s not gonna last, right? I already told you that. He’ll find someone prettier, and more interesting, and-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence, because Wanda threw her drink in his face. He sputtered for a moment, and then moved as if to slap her, but didn’t get the chance.

Pietro had grabbed his arm and wrestled it behind his back. Andy let out a howl of pain. Pietro twisted him until he was shoved up against the wall, his arm at a painful angle behind him. The room went quiet. You didn’t have to look to know that everyone was watching.

“You think you can get away with being an asshole when I’m not there, you piece of shit?” Pietro muttered. “You think you can just say what you want to my girl without consequences? You don’t get to hurt her anymore, you prick.” His words were dripping with venom. Andy let out a muffled whimper, his face pressed into the wall.

Tentatively, you put a hand on Pietro’s shoulder. He looked at you.

“Too much?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No, that was proportional. You should let him go now, though.”

Pietro released him, and Andy spun around, clutching his arm to his chest. “You think I don’t see what you are, Pietro,” he spat. “I saw you hanging around my girlfriend, being all sweet on her, just waiting for me to make one mistake-”

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head. Pietro stepped forward, squaring his shoulders. He glared down at Andy, but his next words were addressed to you.

“Prinţesă,” he said. “Do you want to get out of here? Because if this asshole doesn’t get out of my face, then I’m gonna end up going to jail.”

“Let’s go,” you said, grabbing his arm. “You coming?” you asked Wanda, but she shook her head.

“He wouldn’t dare try anything with me now,” she said. “And this is my last chance to catch up with Nat before school starts again.”

“Alright.” You gave her a side hug and kissed her on the cheek. “Text me when you get home.”

“You too.”

Pietro gave his sister a hug, never taking his eyes off Andy. Andy was leaning against the wall, cradling his arm to his chest, looking as shrunken and pathetic as you’d ever seen him.  

You waved goodbye to your coworkers, who had all been watching the scene unfold, though none of them looked particularly surprised.

As soon as you stepped out into the open air, you exhaled. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed,” said Pietro, putting his arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

“Are you kidding? You jumping in to defend me is, like, the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He gave you a wry smile. “You wanna go for a walk down the beach?”

“With you? Always.”

Once you got down the sand, you kicked off your shoes. You tried to pick them up, but Pietro got there first, flashing you a grin as he slung them over his shoulder. His other hand found your waist, keeping you pressed close to him.

“You know what’s nice?” you said idly.

“Hm?”

“I thought the shit Andy was saying would bother me, but I’m past the point of caring. Who cares if he thinks that I cheated on him with you? Who cares if he thinks you’re gonna trade me in for someone hotter?”

“If he thinks that there’s anyone hotter than you then he’s a fucking idiot, and he never deserved you.”

Warmth prickled across your skin. The moon was high in the sky, and Pietro hand was warm on your lower back.

“He’s an idiot,” you agreed. “And he doesn’t know you at all. You’re not who he thinks you are. I think it makes him feel better to think all men are assholes, because that way, it’s not his fault that he’s an asshole. The idea that you’d be good to me is so foreign to him.”

Pietro stopped walking. “Being good to you is easy. You inspire the good in me.”

Your heart stuttered. Under the moonlight, you could see the earnest expression on his face.

“Pietro…” you breathed.

I think I’m falling in love with you. Do you feel the same?

You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say the words. You weren’t drunk enough. It was too soon. Instead, you stood up on your tiptoes and kissed him on the lips.

“Sit with me?” he murmured when you separated, and you nodded.

More gracefully than you thought possible, he fell back into the sand, pulling you into his lap as he went.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His lips found a spot under your ear, sending tingles down your spine. His hand slid up under your skirt, skimming up your thigh until you shivered.

“Pietro, we’re in public,” you murmured half-heartedly.

“Do you want me to stop?” You could feel him smiling against the skin of your neck.

“No.”

“Good.”

His fingers slid past your panties, finding you wet and wanting. You let out a soft moan as he bit down on your neck, skimming his finger through your wetness.

“Piet,” you whined, threading your fingers into his curls.

“Mm?”

“I need you.”

He pulled back to grin at you, and then he turned, rolling you onto your back. Sand was getting into every fold of your clothes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when Pietro put his head under your skirt.

He mouthed over you through your panties, dragging a strangled groan from deep within you. When he peeled them away from your pussy, you could feel that they were stuck to you.

Earlier on in your relationship, you would’ve been embarrassed, but you knew that it turned Pietro on to see how wet he could make you. You stared up at the stars above you, your free hand drawing patterns in the sand as your boyfriend got to work between your thighs.

You closed your eyes.

You could hear the ocean. You could hear your own unsteady breathing. You could hear the wet sounds as Pietro licked and sucked and kissed your pussy.

“So pretty,” he mumbled. “So fucking beautiful and all mine.” He got like this sometimes, writing love letters to your pussy with his tongue, burying his face in you until you were the sum total of his experiences of the world.

Even though neither of you had said ‘I love you’ yet, he made you feel more loved than Andy ever had.

Your thighs were trembling. The heat was building inside you, ready to tip you over the edge. You knew that Pietro could tell. He dug his fingernails into the flesh of your thigh, speeding up the ministrations of his tongue.

“Cum for me, prinţesă,” he murmured, as if he was speaking to your pussy. He sucked your clit into his mouth and you let out an unexpected high-pitched gasp, clenching around nothing.

You moaned his name, cresting the wave of your orgasm. He held you through it, his fingers and tongue making you feel pleasure that, two months ago, would’ve been inconceivable to you.

He didn’t stop immediately, and your clit was starting to hurt, so you tapped him on the shoulder. He emerged from under your skirt, bright-eyed and licking his lips. You tugged him on top of you, letting him slide his tongue into your mouth. You could taste yourself in him.

“Can I fuck you?” he panted. “I could feel how tight you got when you came and I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard.”

“Please,” you groaned, your hands dropping to the button of his jeans. With his help, he pushed his jeans and boxers down to his knees and then positioned himself between your legs.

You were both still mostly clothed – you were, after all, in public – and somehow that seemed to add to the desperation of the situation. Your fingers knotted themselves in his shirt, and he was holding onto the fabric that had bunched up at your hips.

When he slid inside you, you both groaned. Even though you had been dating for a month, every time felt like the first. He stretched you out, making you whimper his name.

By now, he knew how you liked it. He knew how to nibble at your neck just right, and the angle he needed to reach your g-spot. He grabbed your thigh, hooking your ankle over his shoulder, and started to fuck you, hard and deep.

He gave you less time to adjust than usual – you were both a little drunk and it felt too good to wait – so you were sure you’d be sore in the morning. You didn’t care. All you cared about was that right now, Pietro was making you see stars.

Besides, he would be there in the morning to bring you breakfast and kiss you better. He always took care of you.

Right now, he was quite a sight to behold: on his knees, debauched, hair a mess, shirt rucked up and jeans halfway down his thighs. You had done that to him. No one else got to see him like this. Not anymore.

Evidently, he had gotten bored of not kissing you, so he readjusted his angle, hooking your leg over his hip instead, and hovered over you. His forearms were either side of your head, caging you in. He was looking into your eyes with such intensity that you almost looked away. Almost.

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” he breathed, and your pussy clenched unexpectedly. At the sudden tightness, his eyes fell closed, a moan halfway out of his mouth before he knew what was happening.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, you grabbed his face and kissed him.

He smiled against your lips, the rhythm of his hips never faltering. Lying there on the beach, he made love to you. You never wanted it to end.

Eventually, it did end. He clawed at your sides, burying his face in your neck as his thrusting sped up. You slid your hand between your thighs, rubbing your clit to try and bring you to your second peak. Pietro got there first.

He pulled out, cum splattering all over your thighs. He didn’t even take a second to catch his breath before diving back between your legs, pushing three fingers inside you and licking over your clit.

You moaned his name as you came for the second time, breathless and wet and so, so in love. This time, you had to pry him off you. Even as your legs twitched and you whimpered with overstimulation, he didn’t stop.

When you pushed him away, he rolled over onto his back, laying down beside you.

“Wow,” you breathed.

“Wow,” he agreed.

You rolled over, about to rest your head on his chest, but a movement at the edge of the beach caught your eye. Standing by the treeline that encircled the beach, mouth agape, was Andy.

When he saw you looking, he bolted. You sat up.

“What is it?” asked Pietro. “Something wrong?”

“Andy was watching us.”

He sat up, twisting around to look where you were looking.

You shook your head. “He’s gone.”

“Well… shit.”

“Shit.” You giggled.

He regarded you for a moment. “Do we care?”

“I guess not?”

“Okay, good.” He lay back on the sand, patting his chest. You took the hint, laying down half on top of him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

[beedreamscape]

Evandrin laughs increases and so does Zerxus' worry.

His amber eyes follow as he paces their living room. "Is everything alright?"

Evandrin nods, unable to stop his laughing. "Perfect, this is... this is wonderful."

Zerxus takes a deep breath and leans back on the armchair, the invitation pinched between his fingers, allowing his husband the time to settle down. It was one piece of the most luxurious invitation box both had ever seen, parts now layed out over their dinner table.

The nervous laughter settles into a pained sound, deep dimple between his fair brows. "Oh my, I'm a terrible person."

"No, you're not." Zerxus leans forward, elbows to his knees, that look so close to the one he makes when Elias is misbehaving. "What is worrying you?"

"I'm not... worried, per se. I- I'm not ready to let go of Laerryn."

"She'll still be your best friend. She's just getting married, Van, she's not leaving for war. She's not even leaving the neighborhood!"

"That lucky bastard Loquatius. You know how long she and I had to hunt for even the crappiest apartment when we first got here? We almost slept on the streets cause everything was too expensive but we would've done it if it meant staying in Avalir..."

His smile slowly fades as the wave of nostalgia recedes, leaving just the memories on the sand.

Zerxus offers a kind smile. "You never told me that."

"Didn't I? I guess it just never came up before this." He casts his eyes upon the now empty velvet and gold invitation box.

"This is worrying me, you haven't had these doubts about them before."

"Because I didn't comprehend the depths of her feelings for him. I thought he was just a fun pastime, a spice to her life, a trinket of a friend. Yes, they've spent so much time together that even I started to get a little jealous, but I had imagined sooner or later she'd get sick of him. Laerryn is my twin soul but she doesn't talk to me about those big feelings. When she tried to explain it to me last week, when she told me they were getting married, I genuinely thought she was joking."

"Is Loquatius the cause of your worry?"

"No. Well, not exactly. I trust Laerryn's judgment. Even though he's quite the character... not to mention his newspaper thing is growing crazy fast and you know how these people in big media are! It was their own hubris that toppled the Zenith News before him."

"And you think it's a bad thing that he's successful?"

"Of course not. So long as he doesn't let it go to his head! Zerxus, I swear if he steps out of line and hurts Laerryn, I don't know what I'm capable of."

Zerxus gets up, towering over Evandrin by a few good inches, and places those heavy hands of his over his shoulders.

"I don't know Laerryn as much as you do, I never will, but if I know one thing about her is that she's a force to be reckoned with. She's also a really smart woman. It's takes a man of character and courage to claim her heart. Loquatius apparently has both."

"I wonder if he knows what he's getting into. She's a wonderful woman, but she's a challenge. I've told her as much many times before."

"They are quite different people but I don't think that's news to anybody."

Evandrin looks deep into his husband's eyes. "Love makes fools out of us."

Zerxus gives a hearty laugh. "Yes, you married me after all."

After a long laugh, he makes an exasperated sound, throwing his hands up. "Who would've thought!? Laerryn Coramar falling in love! Loving that person enough to get married! And so young..."

"Isn't she 130 something?"

"142. Which is quite young for a high-elf, not immature by any means but with centuries ahead of her. She's a sturdy one, I wouldn't be surprised if she lived well beyond a millennia. Which changelings certainly don't."

"Won't that mean she'll then be free to pursue other people in the future?"

"But she'll carry the grief of his loss with her. If he doesn't decide to whisk her away to the Fey realm, that is. Oh Zerxus, I don't even like thinking about it."

"I think it'd take more than an army to drag Laerryn away from the city she calls hers. I'm glad someone could find home here." Before Evandrin can comment on that, he continues. "I think the best way to put your soul at rest would be to talk to Laerryn herself. No one will be more straightforward about this."

"Maybe later, this is probably already enough pressure over her. Her first replenishment as Architect Arcane and now this, she doesn't need the added weight of me questioning the complex puzzle of her feelings."

Zerxus offers his hand which Evandrin takes readily.

"Do you trust her?"

Evandrin doesn't hesitate, not even for half a second.

"With my life."

"Then you can trust, whatever the either very simple or extremely convoluted explanation to this decision might be, that she knows what she's doing."

[pigeonwit]

In all honesty, Jack does kind of like the piano music upstairs – perhaps it’s a little invasive, but screw it, it’s kind of nice, especially when he’s caught up in his painting bliss and can allow himself to lean back and drift away on twinkling keys, or when he’s spacing out when he’s cooking and needs a rhythm to sway to, as if it were holding him by the waist as he did so.

(Crutchie had raised a brow when Jack shamefully admitted that to him this over their weekly coffee meet.

“Dude.” He’d said, dry and deadpan and entirely done with Jack’s shit. “You need a date.”

“Wh- fuck you, you need a date!” Jack had spluttered indignantly - and Crutchie’d only grinned and waggled a napkin adorned with not one, but two phone numbers from the hot and terrifying baristas he’d said no more than three words to.

“Oh, fuck you.”

“No, dear Jack-a-boy, we’re trying to find a way to fuck you, here – try to keep up.”)

Putting Crutchie’s youngest-sibling bullshit aside – as it stands now, Jack is hung over and miserable and not in the mood to be woken up at ass-o-clock in the morning (ten-thirty, a more than reasonable time to play piano on a lazy Sunday, but still, fuck Piano Guy, fuck the world, fuck everything, God, his head kills) and he is going to make it everyone’s business.

“You have neighbours…” Jack groans, nowhere near loud enough for Piano Guy to hear him, as he pounds the handle of a broom against his ceiling. “Stop with the Mozart!”

There’s a pause, one that Jack will feel more guilty about when his brain isn’t pulsing out of his skull – he waits for a second, then two, then ten, and breathes a sigh of relief, about to flop back into his bed and let the bliss of sleep reclaim him-

And then the keys start plinking again, fast and staccato and horribly major-scale and – oh, son of a bitch.

Right. Jack rolls his shoulders back, cricking his neck into place and immediately wincing, but that’s not important – what’s important is that no upstairs-person smartass is going to play Dear Evan Hansen at him while he’s hungover and expect it not to mean war.

He tries everything he could possibly muster in his pathetic, sleep deprived state – which of course means he smacks the ceiling with his broom for a good five minutes, and that gets him nothing but a medley of songs that vaguely mention knocking – from Waving Through a Window to Crash! to that one part of Michael in the Bathroom to an old vaudeville Jack remembers from Medda’s theatre, about five and a half years ago. It’s good, honestly – perfect, exactly how he remembered it, capturing the melody he kept stumbling over and losing in his own head, and sending a pang down to the soft and tender part of his chest where his nostalgia lies – but it is not enough to make Jack not hate him.

(It is enough to make him forget about his headache until halfway through Joan Jett’s Bad Reputation, but Jack decides to put a pin in that for now. He has a neighbour to destroy.)

After that resounding failure, Jack spends the next day blasting music from his own speakers, starting from the nichest heavy metal band he can find on Crutchie’s playlists until he’s belting Before He Cheats at the top of his lungs. Jack’s about to count it as a win – he’s not sure if Piano Guy’s still playing, but he certainly can’t hear him, at least – until his next door neighbour, an adorably sweet volunteer at the local pet shelter, knocks on his door and threatens to feed him to a hoard of chihuahuas. Jack almost would’ve let the whole feud go on that threat alone, if Piano Guy didn’t start playing Anything You Can Do in the smuggest key Jack can fathom the second she left.

So Jack, in his infinitely petty wisdom, follows in his sweet mother’s footsteps and writes a strongly worded note.

dear piano guy,

please christ stop playing your pretty boy music all day or i swear to god i am going to make the most osb obscene sex noises you can possibly imagine until you stop.

love B7

He’s snickering to himself the moment he hears Piano Guy’s door open. He tracks his steps across the ceiling, sneaking into his own bedroom as if Piano Guy would somehow be in Jack’s apartment rather than one floor above. He can hear the scrape of a chair, the slightest plink of a key or two – hesitant, almost, which sparks a soft feeling in Jack’s stomach that he can’t identify – and then a clash of five different notes, as if a whole hand had smashed against the keys by pure mistake. There’s a long, pronounced pause – Jack can hardly contain his snickering – until he hears the pounding notes of Rihanna’s S&M, and realizes two things very quickly.

Thing One: Piano Guy, for all his flaws, somehow possesses a sense of humour – a good one, at that – meaning that Piano Guy is a real, actual, potentially decent person, and isnot just some invisible stuff-shirted maestro Jack’s been insisting on hating for one incident when he was hungover.

Thing Two: listening to someone passionately playing the piano above Jack’s bed immediately after threatening sex noises upon them is giving Jack some terrible, terrible realizations about who he is as a person.

[ornii]

Bitterly Beautiful, Part 7

Chapter 7: I see you for who you are.

Jericho was crying this day, the tears of Rain poured down heavy upon this funeral. Many Nevermore and Jericho residents stand at attention for the funeral of Mayor Walker, Enid being comforted by Ajax, (Y/n) stands next to them, silent. Wednesday was a bit further away, her focus on (Y/n), she wants to take the first steps forward, but it was too late. Yoko, a student of Nevermore and a Vampire with pitch black glasses steps up next to him, she gives him an honest smile and he tries to reciprocate. Unfortunately a certain Wednesday was on his mind too much. Wednesday took a step back, and simply watched.

"I enjoy funerals. I've been crashing them since I was old enough to read the obituary section. Mayor Walker was murdered, and I know the killer is here, standing innocently among us, plotting their next move. And watching everything I do. I know I'm close to the truth. I have all the pieces of the jigsaw. I just need to slot them into place. I must look past the tears and masks of grief. Until now, I may have been outmatched and outmaneuvered, but the final gambit has yet to be played. The killer will make a mistake, and I'll be ready." Wednesday senses someone is watching her, she tilts her head left to a shadowy figure who quickly disperses. She gives chase into the forest. She reaches a clearing and looks around. The man suddenly drops from a tree and Wednesdays Umbrella was a sword, She hurls it at the man, who catches the blade with a form of electricity. Wednesday for the first time smiles wide at this, knowing who it is.

"Uncle Fester." She said, the man removes his hat to a bald head, pale skin and slightly rounded eyes.

"How long have you been stalking me?" She asks.

"Just blew into town this morning and was hit by a wave of nostalgia."

"I thought you didn't go to Nevermore."

"I didn't. Your dad got all the brains. But I used to drop in on him. Usually from the ceiling with a dagger clutched between my teeth. Just to keep him on his toes."

"Of course." Wednesday smirks.

"He filled me in on what's been going on. Monsters, murder, mayhem. What fun! I told him I had a job in Boston, but I'd be checking up on you."

"What kind of job?"

"The kind that means I need somewhere to lay low for a couple days." Fester said, which gives Wednesday an idea. She takes fester to the Bee Hive, without Eugene there; it's dead silent.

"This place belongs to a friend."

"You've actually made a friend. That poor kid will be going home in a body bag." Wednesday and Fester enter the room, and Fester sees the box of bees.

"Oh. I like a hideout that comes with snacks." Fester opens up the hive box..

"Those bees are hibernating. They're practically Eugene's children. That means do not eat them!" She says, and Fester frowns and puts the Bee back.

"You know, when you give me that death stare of disapproval, you remind me of your mother. Speaking of scary things, you know what kind of monster you're dealing with?"

"I haven't been able to identify it." Wednesday shows the accurate drawing Xavier made, Fester gazed at it.

"Ooh. It's called a Hyde."

"As in Jekyll and Hyde?"

"Mm-hmm." Fester nods joyfully.

"You've seen one before?"

"Oh yeah. In '83, during my vacay at the Zurich Institute for the Criminally Insane. Where I got my first lobotomy. But you know lobotomies. They're like tattoos. Can't just get one."

"Tell me about the Hyde."

"Ah. Olga Malacova. Jeez. She had it all. Beauty, brains, and a penchant for necrophilia. Olga was a concert pianist, until one night she transformed in the middle of a Chopin sonata. Massacred a dozen audience members. And three music critics." Fester grins especially at that.

"What triggered her? Or did she just change on her own?"

"No idea. I only saw her in group electroshock therapy."

"There's never been any mention of Hydes in any outcast book. And Nevermore is reputed for having the best collection."

"You try Nathaniel Faulkner's diary? Before he founded Nevermore, Faulkner traveled the world, cataloging every outcast community."

"How do you know this?"

"You think your parents can't keep their hands off each other now, oy vey. I showed up unannounced one night in Gomez's dorm room. Let's just say I wasn't interrupting a pillow fight hehehe—"

"Uncle Fester."

"Right Right Yeah."

"The diary, where is it?"

"Nightshades Library. Your dad parked me there and said I should settle in for a long stretch. And that's when I found this nifty little safe. I was hoping for a stash of cash or jewels but instead I found a diary." Fester explains, Wednesday considers this and nods.

"We'll sneak into the Nightshades Library tonight. In the meantime, lay low...If you are discovered, I will disown you and collect the reward tied to your capture."

"I'd expect nothing less." Fester responds, as Wednesday leaves, he creeps back into the bed box and Wednesday storms back in.

"Leave the bees alone." She says, Fester unfortunately agrees and leaves them alone. Wednesday returns to Nevermore, walking down a corridor past the main lobby, she catches a glimpse of (Y/n) in her eye. She halts and turns her head to his direction, he's sitting alone, until a pair of legs walk over to him as he has his head down.

"This seat taken?" A voice said, he looks up and senses a lingering of, undead. He gave a sorry smile.

"Yoko. No it's open." He says, "Thanks." She replies and sits down across next to him. They begin to chat and Wednesday slowly creeps over to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"So, Enid tells me that you're going though a bit of a "Break up." Yoko Said.

"It's not a "Break up". She Never considered me more than a tool, more like, a difference of opinion I guess." He replies and she gives him a pat on the shoulder.

"Sorry to hear that, look I need some.. help with something and I'd appreciate it if you did. Could take your mind off of Wednesday." She says, he gives a soft smile in response.

"That.. would be nice." He said, and Yoko leads him away, Wednesday fumes as she watches this, but can she truly blame (Y/n) for his actions? She returns back to her Dorm to write her novel.

"My novel started out as a twisted fiction, but somehow reality has turned it into my own personal looking glass. My visit to the Gates mansion has left me with so many questions. If Laurel Gates died 20 years ago, then who's sleeping in her bedroom? Why do they have photos of me? And what is their connection to this Hyde? Whoever it is, they're clearly willing to kill for their secret. Goody predicted this quest for answers would become a lonely pursuit. Of course, Goody's nowhere to be found when I need her. The dead can be just as annoying and unreliable as the living." Wednesday monologues, the door opens and Enid awkwardly steps in.

"Hi. Sorry, I figured you were still at Mayor Walker's wake."

"As soon as the dirt hits the coffin, I'm out."

"I can't seem to find my bottle of silver moon nail polish. Do you mind if I look around? Yoko's hosting a mani-pedi party for her crew, she's busy right now—"

"With (Y/n)." Wednesday said, folding her arms. "This is the third time in 24 hours you've forgotten something."

"So, how is everything going?"

"Solitude suits me. With no annoying distractions, I'm almost finished with my novel."

"Oh, Was I an annoying distraction?" Enid said coldly.

"You definitely had some annoying habits."

"Such as?"

"You giggle when you text, which is a 24/7 addiction."

"At least it's not a migraine-inducing typewriter hammering into my head."

"When not grinding your canines, you growl in your sleep."

"As opposed to late night cello solos?"

"You over-commit to activities, then complain about them."

"I'd take that over your obsession with all things creepy." Enid says.

“(Y/n) Isn’t creepy.” Wednesday quickly fires back.

“What?” Enid says confused and Wednesday quickly changes the subject.

"You could gas an entire village with the amount of perfume you spritz. That's just off the top of my head.l

"Guess I'm lucky with the new roomie that doesn't try to find ways to endanger literally everybody she comes into contact with. In fact, Yoko and I are so in sync that she's begging me to be her new roomie. Permanently."

"Don't let me hold you back. Enjoy your solitude, Wednesday."

"It's not solitude if you're still here." Wednesday says as Enid storms off, she's still alone, still putting up those walls. Wednesday returns back to the secret library. She heads down it, and looks around.

"Uncle Fester?" Wednesday asks.

"And Who's Uncle Fester?" She hears a voice calling and Wednesday turns around to (Y/n), who was carrying a small box.

"What are you doing here?" Wednesday asks.

"We're Not Partners, I don't have to explain myself. What's your excuse for creeping around in the middle of the night?" He asks back.

"Research." She replies.

"On the monster?" He asks.

"It's a Hyde." She responds and (Y/n) stops.

"A Hyde? They've been barred from Nevermore for years.. why would one be here?" He asks, "I assume you're tracking it?" He said.

"We're Not Partners, I don't have to explain myself." Wednesday says with her cheeky undertone. (Y/n) just scoffs at her.

"You're right, why do I even try with you? You know what—"

"I would love to hear your all seeing insight." She says, "People would be more inclined to help you if you never used them. Maybe if you were more honest—"

"Fine. You want honesty? Here it is. Your condescendingly decent attitude, dreadfully annoyingly toxic personality, and your "innocent blind kid" technique to avoid suspicion is commendable, but it's obvious you're letting your feelings get in the way of the truth. There's a monster roaming this town and you're more preoccupied with how I feel about you. It's disgusting, annoying, and tiresome."

"Of course feelings for you are tiresome. That's your problem, you think everyone is some puzzle you need to solve and crack. Humans are a lot more complicated than that, some people genuinely want to be your friend. I did. Even when you went to jail for grave digging, I was by your side. Why?" (Y/n) says.

"Because for some reason I cannot fathom or indulge, you seem to like me." Wednesday fires back. And (Y/n) just smirks.

"Liked... Past tense." He responds coldly and walks away and up the stairs, Fester drops down.

"How long have you been lurking?" Wednesday asks as Fester laughs.

"Long enough to feel the romantic tension between you two. Yowza! Seriously, you could cut it with an executioner's axe! Reminds me of your mom and dad, totally gushing with emotion! I've never seen you this mad!" Fester says smiling, Wednesday just stares morbidly at him. The thumbing of fingers stop him and he looks over at a desk to see Thing, who's less than enthusiastic.

"I'd recognize the patter of those fingertips anywhere. Hello, Thing. You can't still be mad about the Kalamazoo job. It wasn't my fault." Fester said, Thing leaps at him grabbing his neck and strangling fester, they struggle against each other as he gasps for air.

"You said you could crack that safe in 30 seconds. Five minutes later, we were still there. You're all thumbs."

"Enough." Wednesday booms with her voice, the two stop and turn to her. "Let him go. Show me the diary." she said, fester shows Wednesday a painted of an, odd hairy monster.

"Here we are. Iggy was Faulkner's right hand. Trained a generation of Nightshades. And behind Iggy Itt..." he says and pulls on the painting to reveal a safe behind it. Thing crawls along it and cracks his knuckles. Thing begins to attempt to crack the code.

"Do I have time for a snooze, or can you crack this quickly? This is turning into a replay of Kalamazoo." Fester watches until the safe clicks, Thing opens it and inside was a rustic and old journal. Wednesday takes it and they retreat up to her Dorm room.

"These are some sweet digs. How'd you swing your own single?" Fester asks, Wednesday was too busy reading the journal.

"My former roommate couldn't handle my toxic personality. Here it is." Wednesday shows Fester the journal entry.

"Faulkner describes Hydes as 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 its liberator, who the creature now sees as its master. It becomes the willing instrument of whatever nefarious agenda this new master might propose."

"Anyone willing to unlock a Hyde is a next-level sicko."

"That means I'm not looking for one killer but two. The monster and its master." Wednesday said, suddenly there was a knock at the door. Wednesday halted and approached, the door opened to (Y/n), who was pretty calm.

"I didn't want to just barge in, in case you were changing or something. Enid was looking for her full moon silver nail polish or whatever." He says, Wednesday didn't seem too hesitant to push him out, but she was quiet.

"Can I look for it?" He asks, Wednesday side steps.

"Thanks." He says and enters, he walks to her drawer.

"Enid she's un, has requested to room with Yoko for the rest of the school year..." (Y/n) says as he picks up and sniffs a nail polish.

"She did?" Wednesday said.

"Yeah, I just wanted you to know... in case you were wondering if she'd come back."

"I would rather buy a rope."

"Of course you would...Is it really that difficult for you to admit that you made a friend, and now that she's gone you might actually miss her? Miss me?"

"I'll survive alone. I always have." Wednesday responds, (Y/n) gives up and puts on a forced smile.

"Well. I'll let her know.." he says and puts his hands in his pocket.

"Also... a favor. Could you explain to me why someone is hiding in Enids plushies?" He says, Wednesday looks a bit taken aback and (Y/n) shrugs, he turns around.

"Come out. I know you're in here." He said, he senses the odd man's heartbeat and Fester stumbles out laughing.

"Wow! And I thought I was good at sniffing things out! What are you a bloodhound?"

"No, perceptive. Who are you? And what are you doing in a teenagers bedroom?" He says, Fester offers a handshake.

"Fester, I'm Wednesdays Uncle. Nice to meetcha!" Hd says, (Y/n) sighs and accepts the handshake, Wednesday watches the lightning touch him, but (Y/n) doesn't even flinch. Fester looks a bit taken aback, (Y/n)'s grip tightens and he yanks fester in close, they're face to face.

"You touch anything of Enids, even if one plushie is out of place and I will vaporize you. All I need to do is blink and you're gone. Do I make myself clear?" (Y/n)'s demeanor has shifted radically.

"Crystal! That's on the honor of the Girl Scouts I ate!" He says still smiling, (Y/n) let's go and walks away.

"Where are you going?” Wednesday asks.

"Not to snitch on you, whatever you do, as long as Enid is okay, is not my business anymore." He says, but he stops himself and he turns to her, he has this sad longing look on him.

"Just... Be careful, please." He says before leaving, as much as he hated Wednesday for using and getting Enid in harms way, he never wanted any harm to come to Wednesday either. It's a tough spot to hate someone, but also want them to be alright. Wednesday also felt this longing, her actions forced them away from her, while she claims solitude is what she desires, her heart says otherwise. She watches him leave, before fester laughs.

"Hey! Being a solo lobo has its perks. You get to live by your own rules, do whatever you want. Just look at me! And that guys a real charmer! Gives off that real super villain Mood." Fester said, Wednesday began to heavily consider something, and asked.

"Uncle fester.. the journal said that a Hyde can be awoken by traumatic events in a person? Can a person being forcibly blinded by their parents be traumatic?" Wednesday said.

"It's.. definitely possible! I mean I'm all for capital punishment but on your own kid? Just pick random ones off the street." He says, and Wednesday simply dreaded the thought.

The Super strength, the Traumatic events, no, (Y/n), he simply couldn't be...

(Y/n) entered the cafe, and sought after a seat.

"Yo, over here!" Yoko calls out and (Y/n) smiles hearing her voice, he walks over and sits across from her. They begin to chat pretty casually, across from the building, Wednesday was staring from afar. A bit too distracted now on her monster hunting. Fester looks over to where she's looking.

"He must be a Vampire, you know they're notoriously suave."

"He's a Fomorian.."

"Oh! You already know his breed? Aren't you just fawning?" Fester says casually.

"I will make due on my threat to hand you over and get the ransom." Wednesday said, only slightly deterring her Uncle.

"Well you look more gloomy than usual, and that's saying a lot, why don't you go over there and stab her in the heart already?"

"As much joy as that would bring me, it ill use my words." Wednesday stood up and approached. For the first time in her life she felt this toxic emotion, Jealousy.

"So, just be calm, cool about it and just say it." (Y/n) said to Yoko, she nods and they both are approached by Wednesday.

"(Y/n)" Wednesday said.

"Yeah?" He responds, Wednesday looks ready to murder Yoko but keeps her composure.

"I'd... like to speak with you. Privately."

"It's okay I was just going,” Yoko says, "She's here!" She says all giddy and (Y/n) nods.

"Go get Em Tiger." He responds and Yoko leaves to follow a Nevermore girl and speak with her, (Y/n) offers a seat.

"Seats open." He says and Wednesday sits across from her.

"So, what do you want to—"

"You need to stop seeing Yoko.. now." Wednesdays Just blurts it out, which actually stuns (Y/n).

"... talk about." He finishes, he begins to stand up.

"Yeah I'm not touching thay with a ten foot pole." He says, his wrist was suddenly grasped by Wednesday.

"At least listen to what I have to say before making a decision." She says, he slowly sits back down.

"Okay... talk." He says, Wednesday takes a deep breath and can't look him in the eye so she looks down slightly at the table.

"Ever since you and Enid departed from my life things have been.. challenging. I'll admit this form of solitude does not suit me. And after much consideration I will admit it, I used you and Enid and Tyler, I should have been more forthcoming about my plans instead of just manipulating you to do my bidding, but you're no better by using Yoko to upset me." Wednesday said and (Y/n) snickers.

"If you find something about what I said humorous than please share." Wednesday sharply said, and (Y/n) just smiles.

"Wednesday... Yoko swings for the other team."

"... what do sports have to do with this?" Wednesday said and (Y/n) laughs.

"You're so clueless it's actually cute!.." he says, Wednesday's eyes could stare daggers into his chest with her glare.

"Wednesday.. Yoko likes.. girls, Not guys." He says, which shocks Wednesday, she just stares at him.

"I.... Was not informed of that." She said, (Y/n) folds his arms and leans back.

"Everyone knows, You know men live for the day they can make a girl look stupid, and god this was so worth it. Wednesday, Yokos not into guys, she came to me asking for advice on how to ask a girl out, Divina, Kent's twin. That's why I've been hanging around with her so much. So, have any other insightful questions?" He asks smirking, Wednesday sighed wearily and began to muster up the courage to ask him.

"Yes, one more... would you, consider.. would you consider the date you planned?" She says, and he smirks even harder.

"You'll have to say the magic words~" (Y/n) says and Wednesday scowls after him.

"I'll place rusty thumbtacks all over your bedroom floor."

"That's not the word~"

"They'll never find your body.."

"Nope.. cmon I know you can do it." He said, Wednesday fiddles with her dress, gripping it on her hands as she musters up the guts to say it so cutely to him.

"Would you... would.. will you let me go on a date with you.. P-please?" She says, he smiled so honestly and nodded.

"Wednesday I'd love to spend time with you. plus I Figure after what happened last time, you owe me." He says.

"I can't sneak off of campus. All eyes are on me."

"Then we won't...Crackstone's Crypt." He stands up to leave and gives her one last quip.

"And I do forgive you Wednesday..." he said before leaving, and a bit of relief was finally washed over her. Night falls and Wednesday and (Y/n) stand before the crypt.

"Last time somebody threw a surprise for me here, it did not go as planned." She said.

"Yeah.. my bad about that, But you do have to close your eyes."

"Are you serious?"

"Oh you can't see for like 40 seconds? How tragic." He says, Wednesday says nothing and closed her eyes.

(Y/n) slowly leads her inside, "Okay. Watch your step. Wait here. Close your eyes. Okay. Easy. Right here. Okay, you can open your eyes now." He said, she opens them to a Punic, black cloth, even blacker basket of food. And what seems to be a makeshift stage.

"No one's ever taken you on a date inside a crypt before? How do you feel about, Macbeth?" He said.

"It's one of my favorites? Even Thing doesn't know that." Wednesday said.

"I had a feeling you'd like it because someone gets decapitated at the end. Seems on brand for you. But this ain't a movie. .." He said. He cracks his knuckles and smirks, he turns to the Stange and extends his hands. He then takes out a knife and cuts his hand very slightly. He places a drop of blood on the ground.

"ná bac leis an mbás thú! go dúisigh tú ar aird mo ghlao!"

"May death never stop you! May you awaken to the head of my call!"

Wednesday watches as dirt begins to move on its own, piling up and turning into bones! And more bones! Soon skeletons stood before them and Wednesday was actually amazed, she smiles, they even smell like death.

"Now, Macbeth, Please”, he says, one skeleton shifts it's body and begins to speak as if in a play.

"When ...shall we three meet again

In thunder, lightning, or in rain?"

The play begins, Wednesday watches with a Ural amazement in her eyes, seeing skeletons made of dirt reenact Macbeth is a treat not many get.

The story ends as per usual, the severed head of Macbeth is presented to Malcom. The play ends and the skeletons crumble into dirt, the two stood up after the play and walk to the exit.

"That was... Horrific..Thank you." She says, (Y/n) sighs and they stop and turn to each other.

"Wednesday, I don't mean to be so abrupt about this but, I think it's best if you know that. I truly do care for you, and I want us to be more than friends, so much more.." he begins.

"You'll snap out of it." She replies, and he gently takes her hand.

"Please...Don't do that don't Discount my feelings as puppy love."

"I'm not friend material, let alone more-than-friend material. I will ignore you, stomp on your heart, and always put my needs and interests first."

"You did.. and I wanted to hate you, but you know I'd stand by your side if you told me the truth, If you let me help you instead of using me."

"It's not going to work. I almost killed you." She says.

"Heh, Formorians Are notoriously hard to kill, but you Genuinely felt bad for it, means you can be better, I want you to be better."

"(Y/n)... we're incompatible.. and I think you'd want more out of life than someone who hates it" Wednesday said, (Y/n) looks down, he's been waiting for this moment and he tilts his head back up to look at her and shoots her right in the heart with his words.

"Well that's too bad Wednesday Addams... you think I'd want someone who wants more out of life ? Well... you're everything that I want!" He responds with so much confidence. She just, looks at him, he slowly leans in, ready to throw everything into the wind for her, Wednesday, almost as if drawn by her own emotion does as well, their lips inches away from finally getting to meet each other, but life has other plans and someone bursts into the crypt, the sheriff. He sees the two teenagers and they quickly turn to him.

"What the hell?" He says, "There's a canoe missing. Figured he might be on Raven Island. I'm not going to ask what this is, but I never saw the two of you here. You got it?" he says before leaving them there. (Y/n) just laughs as Wednesdays pulls her hands from him.

"So... shall I escort you home?" He asks.

"I'll be fine. I need time to.. think." She said.

"Heh, okay.. I'll be seeing you." He says, he cheers slightly under his breath. His first real date and it went perfectly! But some dreams for others, are just nightmares for another.

Wednesday returns to her room to see the place has been ransacked. "Thing?" She asks, and comes across him, stabbed to a pillar with a knife and quickly removed the blade from him. She only had one plan and ran for the bee hive. She storms into the room.

"Fester? Fester, help! Help! Help! Thing's not moving. He was stabbed! Get him on the table!" Fester, a bit confused quickly begins to shock thing. Trying to revive him as only Wednesday can watch distraught. But no avail, his body is still stiff.

"..He's gone, Wednesday."

"No, he's not. Thing. If you can hear me... if you die, I will kill you. Go again. Now! Again, please!" Fester continues to shock him, but it's still silence, a wave of actual pain hits Wednesday, a single tear was beginning to form, until things thumbs began to flex. A look of relief washes over Wednesday.

"For a minute, we thought you'd picked your last lock, buddy." Fester says

"Who did this to you? Knife from behind the back. Cowards. I promise that whoever did this to you will suffer. And it will be slow, long, and excruciatingly painful." Wednesday wipes a tear from her face. "I'll stitch him back up. They found your motorbike, so... the sheriff won't be far. You need to go. Maybe next time steal something a little less conspicuous."

"Where's the fun in that? All right. I'll lay low here tonight, keep an eye on the patient, and I'll skedaddle in the morning."

"I guess I'll see you at your arraignment or the next family reunion."

"You'll always be my favorite, Wednesday."

"Be sure to tell Pugsley that. It'll give him a complex." Wednesday smiles so slightly to her uncle, but she had to face the music, and Weems.

"I'm guessing it's not some kind of random prank." Weems said.

"Whoever ransacked my room also stole Nathaniel Faulkner's diary."

"That's supposed to be safely locked in the Nightshades Library."

"So you do know about that diary, which means you also know the monster we're after is called a Hyde." Wednesday said, it was only her and Weems, which let Weems finally relax.

"Faulkner spent years studying Hydes. He wanted to determine if they were just mindless killers or conscious of their actions."

"What was his conclusion?"

"He was killed by a Hyde before he could reach one. Others tried to carry on his research, but the Hydes were too unpredictable and violent. They were officially banned from Nevermore 30 years ago."

"All of this time, you've known the monster was a Hyde. Why didn't you tell the sheriff?"

"Because then Nevermore is done. Over. Shut for good. And that's not happening on my watch. But I'm not the only one withholding. If you suspect someone, you need to tell me."

"Why? All you've ever done is gaslight and obstruct me. You don't care how many people die, as long as your reputation is safe."

"I am protecting our Nevermore family, which also includes you, Ms. Addams." Weems responds a bit, forcefully, knowing what she's coming across, could finally be the key she needs to take the Hyde and it's master down. The next morning (Y/n) began his walk through Nevermore before being cut off by Bianca.

"Come with me. I have information about Mayor Walker's murder." She says, (Y/n) follows to the library and senses more in the room, Wednesdays and Lucas, the Mayors son. He shows Wednesday the photos.

"Printed these off my dad's computer. Seems he was trying to track down someone. Laurel Gates? Looks like he started right after Outreach Day."

"Must have recognized her there."

"According to British police, Laurel was presumed drowned, but no body was ever recovered."

"The Gates mansion was purchased a year ago by a 90-year-old candy heiress. She then mysteriously died and gave all of her belongings to her caregiver, Teresa L. Glau." Wednesday said, "Who?" Bianca asks.

"It's an anagram." (Y/n) explains. "For what?" Bianca and Lucas ask

"Laurel Gates." (Y/n) and Wednesday say in unison.

"Laurel secretly buys her old house and then comes back to Jericho as someone else. Why?" Bianca asked.

"Revenge on all the people she blames for her family's misfortunes. Your father. The coroner. My parents."

"And Most of all, Nevermore... but How does the monster fit into all of this?" (Y/n) thinks.

"The monster is a Hyde. It's doing Laurel's bidding. She controls it." Wednesday said,

"So, you think Laurel is using a Hyde to kill off Nevermore and Jericho residents responsible? But, who has the power to unlock a Hyde?" Bianca asks.

“The best guess would be a Psychiatrist or a..” (Y/n) says, and stops himself, he turns in the direction of Wednesday.

“Or a Therapist…”

"Wednesday, we don't have an appointment scheduled today."

Kinbott, the therapist stood before Wednesday, a black crow was in the window. Watching.

" I wanted to return something. I found it in your old childhood room." she shows Laurel a Music box.

"I know you're Laurel Gates, and you've come back to Jericho to seek your revenge. And so did Mayor Walker, which is why you had to kill him. Who better to slide in and out of the hospital undetected than a psychiatrist under the guise of visiting another patient?"

"...You're not actually accusing me of murdering the mayor?"

"The roses you left in Eugene's room were your mistake. They're the same variety I found near your childhood bed."

"Wednesday...I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

"There's only one reason an overqualified psychiatrist like yourself would settle in the inconsequential backwater that is Jericho. It allowed you to crawl through the troubled, young minds of outcasts until you found one that you can manipulate to exact your revenge."

"You know what? I don't have time to deal with your delusional fantasies. I have a patient emergency."

"Who? Xavier? I know all about the secret sessions you've been holding in your car. I also found the cave where you've been holding sessions to unlock his Hyde."

"You are so out of line."

"Do you know how violently unpredictable a Hyde can be? It was your plan to have Xavier committed before he could turn on you too."

"Wednesday, you need help. More help than I can give you." Kinbott begins to dial her phone.

"Who you calling? Xavier?"

"Judge Reynolds. I'm going to recommend you stay in a juvenile psychiatric facility."

"Oh, please. You and I both know I'd be running that place in a week. Time's up, Laurel." Wednesday leaves, as the bird continues to watch. A bit a ways away, (Y/n) sits calmly, awaiting the crow to return.

"Principal Weems, it's Valerie Kinbott. Wednesday Addams just barged into my office. I wasn't aware that Wednesday had a session today. She didn't, and her behavior was completely irrational!" She yells before she hears something in the bathroom. She opens it up, and that spelled her end. (Y/n) stands as Wednesday approaches.

"All went well?" He asks.

"According to plan." She responds, he extends his arm as the crow lands and begins to caw rapidly.

"Yes I saw— what.. when? What!?" (Y/n) yells, which stuns Wednesday. He bolts off back to Kinbott.

"(Y/n)? (Y/n)?!" Wednesday follows suit and they push open the door, blood spilled past it and onto the ground. And Wednesday sees it splatter the walls. (Y/n) smells the scent of blood in the room, and the slowly cooling corpse before them. (Y/n) turns to Wednesday.

"No more games Wednesday, you know who the Hyde is.. we need to stop them. Now.

Xavier returns back to his dark shop and creeps in. He turns on the light to Wednesday sitting there, with a knife in the table.

"You know what? You need to stay out of my space."

"You need to take your own advice. You left that in my room." Wednesday Jams the knife into the table. "Actually, you left it in Thing. How long have you been seeing Kinbott?"

"Have you...What am I saying? Of course you have. You've been having (Y/n) and his creepy crowd spy on me, right? 'Cause I'm the villain in your fantasy. My father thinks that my mental health is a PR problem that he needs to manage. He wanted to keep his troubled son out of the tabloids. I wasn't in your room. Believe me or don't believe me, I don't care."

"Your painting's been improving. I enjoy this one in particular." Wednesday reveals a painting of kimbott, and her face scarred.

"Feels like you really lived it."

"What do you want?"

"I'm asking the questions." Wednesday begins to show Xavier the seeming tokens from Xavier's kills.

"What is Rowan's inhaler doing in your shed? Or Eugene's glasses?"

"Whoa, whoa." Xavier said

"Or these stalker images you took of me?"

"N-No. I..."

"Don't forget your latest addition. Kinbott's necklace."

"Somebody planted that stuff!" Xavier yells walking towards Wednesday, just then, the police barge in.

"Freeze! Drop the knife!"

"Down on your knees. Cuff him." You have the right to remain silent. Appreciate the help, Addams." The sheriff said, which just enrages Xavier.

"You! You framed me! I'm being set up. I shoulda let Rowan kill you." Xavier is cuffed and taken into custody, the night continues and Wednesday returns to her dorm. Which Enid was there.

"Hey."

"You're back."

"I'm gone for a few days, the place gets trashed, and Thing almost dies. Someone's gotta look out for you two."

"What happened to rooming with Yoko?"

"Yoko's great. I just decided I needed a few more boundaries." Enid prepares to tape the floor but Wednesday stops her. "Skip the tape."

"Don't tell me Wednesday Addams is mellowing out."

"Never. More like evolving."

"Well, one inch of duct tape at a time."

"Why the sudden change of heart Enid?"

"Because we work. We shouldn't, but we do. It's like some sort of weird, friendship anomaly. Everything you said about me is true...But I don't apologize for it. Not anymore, when I was first here, (Y/n) told me something that I never understood until now.. that, I'm me, and it's okay to be me, to never apologize for being the person who I am and to never let anyone change that. It's just who I am." Enid says so, confidently.

"Thing said he missed you."

"I missed him too. I'm sorry about Xavier."

"I'm not. He's a liar and a killer. Besides... there's nothing quite like the feeling of being proven right."

"Except maybe someone to share it with. Thing may have blabbed about your date with (Y/n)." Enid says winking, Wednesday just looks at her annoyed, but looks back on fond memories.

"So how'd it go?" Enid asks, Wednesday thinks about informing her of what could have happened.

"Your Surrogate brother knows how to Intrige a girl at least, I can see why you constantly battle the ideals of love and confusion about your feelings regarding him." Wednesday said which stuns Enid. "I-I don't have feelings—"

"It was interrupted." She finishes, Enid tries to play it all off. "Well maybe you should go see him? I mean you did sort of lock up his room mate." She said, and Wednesday agrees.

(Y/n) sits inside his dorm room, sensing the silence inside. He hears the door knock.

"It's open." He said, Wednesday enters and he senses her presence. He walks over and they get a bit, close.

"Are you okay? I know it must have been hard to do that to him." (Y/n) said.

"Not really, he was a murderer."

"Wow, that was a quick turn around... so, dumb question incoming—"

"I find all of your questions dumb, I just indulge you."

"Okay, so.. would you like to pick up where we left off?~" he Leans in, and this time, Wednesday isn't so hesitant herself, allowing his hand to gently caress her cheek, he risks it's all and she does as well. Their lips reach contact, and like a murder of crows their black hearts flock together. The sweet taste of black cherry on her lips, (Y/n) has never felt so happy, and Wednesday has never felt so, alive. And (Y/n) has never felt so, human. Alas, all good things come with a price. Wednesday, on contact had another vision.

She watched as (Y/n) stood to fight someone with his own pet wolf, against., Tyler! who transforms into the Hyde! The vision jumps to him crawling away from someone desperately trying to escape, and the final vision was Wednesday holding his corpse, almost as if fate was telling her that all fairytales come to a bloody end. She snaps out of it to (Y/n).

"Wednesday?! Wednesday what's wrong!" He asks, frantically, and she just stares at him.

"Of course the first boy I kiss would them show me visions of his grueling and painful death...And they say those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it, well...

"I hate history."

[notthestarwar]

does ‘the island’ also contain rats by any chance??? Will you talk about any wips you have that may feature rats? 🥺👉👈

You know all about rat island lol that's OUR baby

OK. For the uninitiated. Where to even begin lol.

So it all starts with a gremlins fueled haze. We'd watched the scooby doo movie earlier that day and au thoughts had been lit. Add codywan, my need for begrudging Anakin and cody buddy team ups, and the servers pet rat: it was a recipe for a fever dream. The gremlins music at 1am really just stoked the fire.

So the premise is: no order 66. It's post war, they're not quite at that happy ending yet. There's a feeling that they've all dodged a huge bullet. Cody is learning to live. Obi Wan has taken a sabbatical to figure things out post war. Anakin has been divorced, lost custody, and rejected the Jedi's help. He's a hot mess. He's trying to figure out who he is, in the most messy 'I'm 23 and didn't do any of this when I was 19' kind of way. He's partying. He's become a student. He's messing up in all the mundane ways that you can think of.

Then, he gets a mysterious invite to a all expenses paid resort. It's suspicious as hell, he pays that no notice. He's spiralling.

Now. The resort. Is rat themed. Don't think about that too hard. It's like Disney but it's rat themed and it's adults only so there's lots of rat bars ect and it's on an island. It's like the resort in the scoobydoo movie but it's more disneyfied and capitalist and also all of the rats are terrifying. Like. We have a storyboard of the worst rat costumes I could find (including our fav pet rat obviously) and that's the inspo we're working from here

Now if you're new to rat island you probably think that's the end. Oh no. That's just Chapter 1.

This is based on the scooby doo movie afterall. There's a sith conspiracy on the island. There's bodyswapping. AND. There's a dog.

i'm going to share 2 snippets of it. cause i love it too much to decide.

"Cody had always prided himself on his propensity for research. He was not one to walk in to a situation unprepared. As soon as they’d heard of Anakin’s trip, he’d done some digging.

Rat island was a combination of theme-park and party island, located on the beach planet: Muridae. The resort was, in its entirety, dedicated to a small mammalian creature native to the planet Eukaryota--which is not even in the same system.

Supposedly, the park was based around an ageing cartoon show that had only grown in popularity with civilians during the war, the war had brought many things, a wave of rat based nostalgia was maybe less expected than others.

Despite all his research, nothing could prepare him for the reality of it. As they leave the lander Cody finds himself in a corner of the galaxy he’s rarely had reason to imagine, let alone see. A place of over indulgence, excess and noise.

It isn’t one of the strangest places he’s found himself, Cody had seen weirder things during the war. Not many, but still, some. On one of the strangest planets. But this was maybe one of the least familiar. Kamino had never prepared him for this.

When they stepped out onto the landing platform, Obi Wan looked far too pleased. Cody only scowled.

He wished he’d listened when he was told to bring sunglasses but was utterly unwilling to admit it. Once, when he wore armour wherever he went he had a built in visor, he had tints! He squinted in the sun. Civilian life really was grim sometimes.

“Isn’t this nice.” Obi wan said, looking down at the nearby beach.

“We aren’t staying.” Cody told him shortly.

“Of course not dear, we are just here to collect Anakin.” Obi Wan agreed.

Cody gave him a suspicious side eye.

“Is the sun getting in your eyes, dear?” Obi Wan asked, tilting his head and looking at Cody through his own sunglasses, ridiculous bug eyed things.

“No. Not at all.” Cody lied.

Obi -Wan gave him a long look. Cody ignored it.

Eventually, Obi-Wan he spotted a map. “Ah look. Over here Cody. Look! There's a gift shop.”

“No.” Cody told him, flat, No gift shop.”

Obi Wan gave him a sad look.

“No.” Cody said again. He squinted at the map. “Where is the security office.”

Obi Wan sighed. “To the west.”

“Right lets go.”

Obi wan gave a pitiful sigh. Cody ignored that too.

Cody knew very well they’d be visiting one of the islands many gift shops before they left this forsaken place, there was no need for him to give in so early; Obi wan would only take advantage of such a weakness.

As they round the corner, a person dressed in a loose fitting grey costume, their whole head obscured by that of a rat, seems to pop-up out of nowhere, scaring the shit out of Cody.

“Have a Rat-tastic day!”

Cody will not be having a Rat-tastic day. He finds himself uncertain of what exactly a Rat-tastic day is, but he does know that he will most definitely not be having one."

Next, in this snippet, they finally visit the gift shop:

"Dear. Just pick a pair."

Cody continued to look at the sunglass stand in affront.

"I don't need any."

"Yes." Obi Wan gave him a stern look. "You do."

Cody gave the stand another spin, increasingly offended. "Does every pair have a rat?"

"Well…" Obi-Wan was looking towards the counter, where a sign declared that they where standing in an establishment of 'Rat-tastic Gifts'

Cody just scowled. "Why does the sun have to be so bright?" He made an irritated noise. "This place!" He huffed. "Couldn't Anakin have picked anywhere else?"

"Well, he was invited…"

"He had to accept! Who would accept an invite to Rat karking Island? Only Skywalker. Who would invite Skywalker to a Rat Island in the first place? The whole place seems like some demented way to torture people." He grumbled a few choice words under his breath.  

"Dear…" 

"Fine!" Cody picked out a pair with the least obstructive rat he could find, only a small metal rat shaped medallion on the end of each arm and a rat print that was, thankfully, reserved for the inside of the arms only.

As they made their way to the counter he caught Obi-Wan looking towards a display showing one of the worst rat costumes Cody had ever seen. It was made out of a kind of plush velveteen fabric that was quite frankly, monstrous. The thing was made of far too much material, giving it the appearance of wrinkly skin. And to add insult to the injury of having to see this thing (and see it he had, the staff in this place roamed the paths dressed in a collection of eclectic rodent outfits) the face was… The eyes. They boggled. The whiskers, were wonky. It was barely recognisable as a rat. 

"NO."  Cody managed, as he marched them to the counter. 

"Feeling ratty?" The twilek at the counter greeted with a bright smile. 

Cody swallowed a small amount of bile. "We are not." He grunted. 

The shop assistant seemed slightly caught for words, his lack of enthusiasm halting her usual script.  She looked to the sunglasses down on the counter. "Ah. Soon!" She threatened, with a smile. 

When they left the shop,  Obi Wan burst in to laughter.

"Soon!" Cody repeated. "I karking hope not. This place is like a cult."

Obi-Wan took one look at his face and burst in to renewed wheezes.

rat island is...ongoing. in the meantime, @felixeis003 has created an amazing piece of art of it here:

[beevean]

The reason why Lost World started to move the fandom in the opposite direction, I think, is due to a number of factors at play:

The fans who grew up with the 2000s were starting to get old enough to have their voices heard when compared to previously

Colors was just one game and Gens' story was very clearly rushed, so it was possible to brush off their stories as one-off blunders at worst, but with Lost World it had become clear that this was to be the actual direction for the series going forward

Lost World's overall reception was much more negative across the board when compared to Colors and Gens, which allowed those fans dissatisfied with the change in direction to gain more prominence by starting to ride the new wave of negativity, which only became more and more pronounced following Boom and Forces

Social media was growing exponentially during the 2010s, which not only gave many more people the chance to voice their opinions, but also saw the rise of the figure of the influencer. Of course dominating popular opinions within fandoms had always been a thing, but now thanks to platforms like Youtube and Twitter it had become much easier for individuals to sway popular opinion to their side

The whole "things were so much better back in my day" mentality in general is an extremely safe and cozy one, as it allows one to create their own fantasized and ideal version of the past that can be used to take refuge from a hateable present, as the past is immutable. This works for both those fans who were present during the 2000s and have lots of nostalgia for it (genuine or otherwise) and newer fans who were not actually present but can be easily swayed by the dominant discourse

All good points. It's true that Lost World as a whole had a much more lukewarm reception than its predecessors, but it really felt like the reception for the new direction turned tide overnight. But yes, the "Boom era" didn't help at all - I too back then was starting to feel like it was time to move on from Sonic, both for the general climate and SEGA's awkward attempts to promote a spinoff brand no one liked (not even mentioning the memetically bad RoL).

[myeuphoricmindset]

Haunted by you — Eddie Munson

↳ chapter six

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five

Read on ao3

Summary | Eddie Munson's ghost is haunting the house recently occupied by Daisy Morgan. Having been deceased for years, Eddie becomes visible only to her. As she adjusts to sharing her living space with an otherworldly presence, their relationship develops into a compelling yet forbidden romance between the living and the dead. But, how could that ever truly work?

Warnings/tags | here.

Word count | 3.8k

★

The room spun relentlessly, engulfing Eddie in a world that felt weighty, warm, and vibrantly alive. Life itself pulsed through his veins. He could sense the perspiration on Steve's skin, the rhythmic cadence of the music coursing through his ears, and the steady thumping of a heart within his chest. His hand instinctively rose, craving the connection with that relentless heartbeat, uncertain whether his own heart raced because he was very much alive or simply because he couldn't tear his gaze away from Daisy.

"Dais," Eddie uttered, his voice startling even himself.

Daisy appeared startled, perhaps overwhelmed, and Eddie stretched out his hand, both to reassure her and to remind her that it was him. But before he could reach her, Sloan and Robin pushed through the crowd, inadvertently blocking his way.

Their laughter shattered the intense eye contact between Daisy and Eddie. The two girls clung to each other, their eyes brimming with love, unmistakably reconciled. Eddie couldn't have cared less about their reunion; all he desired was to take the hand of the girl he had yearned to hold and escape this chaotic scene.

"Daisy, why do you look like you've seen a ghost?" Sloan asked her.

Daisy suddenly let out a slightly deranged laugh, and Eddie knew he should intervene, as she appeared to be in shock, which was understandable given the surreal situation.

"It's all the dancing and too many drinks. I'm going to help her outside for some fresh air," Eddie explained.

Daisy simply stared at him, while Robin and Sloan exchanged smirks as if they were privy to some secret. 

Eddie took a step forward and gently grasped Daisy's hand. Surprisingly, she didn't pull away; instead, her grip tightened around his hand. Eddie longed to savor the feel of her hand in his, but his primary concern was to get her the hell out of there. 

Eddie guides her through the crowd and toward the backdoor. People could actually see him and made way for him, and it is a strange feeling. For years, he'd been a mere specter, effortlessly passing through people as though they were mist. But now, as he brushes against them and feels their presence, a wave of nostalgia washes over him. The life he'd once known, which he had long since come to terms with losing, surged back into his consciousness. Only the feeling and never full memories. He recognizes that this newfound existence was but a fleeting experience. He tried not to dwell on this feeling of being alive and he kept his head high and pushed forward.

As they walk toward the garden, Daisy stumbles, but Eddie keeps her close, ensuring she doesn't fall. She settles onto one of those gracefully curved stone benches often found in gardens, her fingers grazing the textured surface, completely disoriented. It pains him to see her in this bewildered state.

"Dais," he whispers.

Her gaze remains fixed on her fingers, brushing the bench's surface until Eddie gently tilts her chin upward with his finger. She is breathtaking and he longs to embrace her. Their closeness is maddening.  He wants more. Needs her.

“What is going on?” 

Eddie snaps back to the present, focusing on her. "I have no idea," he admitted. 

He looks down at Steve's body and rubs the back of his neck, striving to remain composed for Daisy's sake. Being dead was one thing, but inhabiting someone else's body, walking, and talking—it is like a constant, unsettling sensation, akin to wearing clothes that didn't quite fit while enduring an incessant itch. It wasn't his, and his mind was reminding him of that fact every passing second.

Daisy struggled to find words. "I don't... I don't understand."

"This has never happened before."

It hadn't, but Eddie was aware of what this night signified. He had never been fortunate enough to cross over. He hadn't anticipated this outcome, and he had never imagined it could be like this. The boundary between the physical world and the spirit realm was thinnest on Halloween, but with a full moon on this particular night at three a.m., the witching hour, it seemed to be the only explanation.

It made sense, and Eddie quickly pieced it together. He explained it to Daisy in a calm and reassuring tone, hoping to put her at ease.

"Oh my god," Daisy gasped.

"This won't last, Daisy. From what I heard, spirits cross over for a short while and then get pulled back."

Daisy gazed at him, her face reflecting a mix of emotions. He notices a hint of sadness in her expression, which gives him hope that she cares.

"Steve will be okay if that's what you're worried about."

Hearing Steve's name spoken out loud felt like a jolt to Eddie's brain, a sensation he'd never experienced before. His mind raced with questions about the person whose body he now occupied, but he pushed those thoughts aside.

"I'm not worried—” Daisy began but paused to collect herself. "No, I mean I am worried for Steve, but I'm concerned for you. I'm confused and overwhelmed. But you're here, in a way. You are here."

They lock eyes, silence settling between them as they try to make sense of the situation. Only the distant music and the moon provide them with any light as they hide in the garden, guarding their secret.

Eddie takes a step forward, lowering himself to eye level with Daisy. He observes her face with a fresh perspective, while Daisy longs for the familiar face she had grown accustomed to.

Eddie reaches out and gently brushes her cheek with his hand. Daisy closes her eyes and turns her face away, flinching at the touch. She must have heard his hand drop because she winced. 

"I'm sorry, it's just... not you," she whispered.

Eddie let out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry, Daisy. I know. But it is me."

Their apologies hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions.

"Do you know how often I think about you?" Daisy scoffed softly and averted her gaze. Eddie continued, "I think about how soft your skin is, how you'd feel in my arms, the way your hand would fit perfectly in mine, how you would smell, and how it would feel to hear you say my name, your breath against my ear. God, I've imagined it all, and here you are, more perfect than ever."

A flicker of light returned to Daisy's eyes as she met his gaze. "Eddie," she whispered.

This time, it was Daisy who reached out to him. Her hand moved through his hair and down to his cheek, and Eddie felt a soft sigh of relief at her touch. But he sensed she was holding back. Eddie gently placed his hand over hers, which cradled his face.

"Close your eyes," he said.

Daisy looked puzzled. "What?"

"Trust me. Close your eyes."

And she complied, closing her eyelids as she anticipated his next move. But instead of making a move, Eddie simply tilted his head into her hand, savoring the moment. A faint smile graced the corners of his mouth as he admired her, his thumb gently caressing her hand. With a tender gesture, he brought her hand to his lips and planted a soft kiss upon it.

He could see her relax, and a sense of tranquility washed over him knowing that she was at ease. After gently placing her hand in her lap, Eddie cupped her face with his hands and traced the familiar freckles on her cheeks with his thumb. He could do it with his eyes closed, for he had memorized every feature of her face. But now, he was finally able to trace those features as his eyes had always wished to do.

No words passed between them. It was as if they both understood that Eddie's voice would shatter the moment, dispelling the delicate fantasy they had woven - that it was Eddie's touch and not Steve's. It might be his words, but they wouldn't sound like the voice she imagined. And so, they settled into the silence, focusing solely on touch. It was bittersweet, experiencing a taste of something they could never truly have again, but it was sweet nonetheless, and Eddie clung to that sweetness before bitterness could creep in.

His finger grazed her bottom lip, prompting her to part her lips, her breath softly spilling over his skin. The yearning within him stirred as he longed for more of her, yet he took great care to go slow, ensuring her comfort.

Daisy's hands lightly touched his arms, and it felt like an invitation. Eddie drew her closer, wrapping his arms around her. Feeling the weight of her body in his arms was overwhelming, far better than he had ever imagined because he had forgotten what it was like to embrace someone, to hold them. 

In a swift motion, Daisy moved closer on the bench, trying to hold him tight. However, as he reached out to steady her, she lost her balance and fell forward onto him. There was a gasp before they both fell into laughter, their spirits lifting amid the awkward but endearing moment.

The leaves beneath their bodies rustled, and Eddie couldn't help but think about how he had just affected something with his movement, even if it was just the sound of leaves crunching. In this moment, he wasn't something that drifted through space and time without consequence. That meant something to him, even if he was inhabiting a body different from the one he had known. He affected something. 

He was aware that this experience was temporary. He would be fortunate to have the full witching hour with Daisy, but he knew it could unravel at any moment. 

Eddie gazed up at Daisy as she attempted to lift herself off him, and he noticed that the look in her eyes was not the one he was accustomed to when she looked at him. He had to remind himself that she was gazing at someone else's face.

Daisy squeezed her eyes shut and nestled her head against his chest. Eddie encircled his arms around her and gazed up at the full moon. How many times had he lain in this garden, staring up at the stars? Too many times, he thought. Yet, this was the first time he had truly noticed how the stars twinkled and how brightly the moon shone. Perhaps it was the first time he didn't perceive the world through a dim and helpless light. Because everything felt brighter and more profound when he was with Daisy.

Eddie's hand moved tenderly against Daisy's back in a soothing manner as he closed his eyes to concentrate on the weight of her resting on him. It was comforting and real.

"It's beating so fast," Daisy whispered. She pressed her ear closer to his chest and added, "I wish I was listening to your heart."

"It would still be racing," Eddie mumbled.

Daisy reached her hand up and gently covered his mouth. She didn't lift her head to meet his gaze, and Eddie didn't resist her touch. He knew he had shattered their fantasy with the unfamiliar voice that now inhabited his body. With her other hand, she brushed her thumb softly against his chest, a reassuring gesture.

A dampness formed on his chest, and he noticed Daisy's breathing becoming irregular. He wanted to call out to her but held back. Instead, he tenderly lifted her face with both hands, confirming the sudden pain he felt. She was crying, and it felt like another form of dying all over again.

With tenderness and swiftness, Eddie gently turned her over and gazed down at her. Daisy’s chestnut hair cascaded over the ground, framing her face. At that moment, her eyes closed, she resembled a modern-day Sleeping Beauty, lying amidst the greenery of the garden. If only his kiss would break the spell. 

He wiped the tears from her face, attempting to offer solace. It was a shared pain, and no words were needed to understand it. The ache of loving someone they couldn't have was almost unbearable. Was there anything more painful than that? Eddie thought death was more bearable than this.

With her eyes closed and tears still falling, Daisy whispered, "Eddie."

At the sound of his name on her lips and her hands reaching out to wrap around his neck, Eddie leaned down and kissed Daisy. 

It was perfect, even better than he had imagined. He could tell that she felt the same, for Daisy ran her hands through his hair and deepened the kiss. He fought back a moan that threatened to escape his throat. It felt incredibly good to be touched again, and it was easy to forget how it felt. After this, he knew he could never forget. He never wanted to. Eddie wanted her kiss, her touch to be etched into his memory.

Eddie's tongue slipped into her mouth, and she accepted it willingly. Their hands grasped at each other, and their breaths were stolen. They knew this wouldn't last long, and by holding each other close enough, they could somehow make it never end.

Shit, Eddie knew he should feel guilty for using another person's body. Maybe he did, just a little. But right now, it was difficult to acknowledge that guilt. He wasn't a bad person, and he wouldn't cross the line, even though a part of him longed to take Daisy right there in the grass beneath the moonlit sky. There was a small justification, considering that Steve was already kissing Daisy. Could she tell the difference even with the same lips? He wanted to ask but couldn't find the words, not when all he wanted was to keep kissing her and not waste a moment on conversation. 

His hand moved down her body, settling on her thigh. Daisy's dress pooled around her hips, and Eddie wanted to take a moment to appreciate her exposed legs, but he couldn't tear himself away from her embrace. So, he ran his hand up and down her leg. So soft and perfect. Her legs wrapped around him, and he leaned in closer to her causing her to moan. His thoughts raced with what it would feel like to be out of these jeans and to feel her panties against him. Would they be wet? It was driving him wild.

He kissed her neck, desperate to hear her moan his name in his ear and she did. Daisy was responding to him, no one else. That alone was enough to bring him back to life.

Then, everything suddenly stopped. 

A bolt of lightning struck his brain, causing him to collapse. His vision wavered, flickering with images. At first, he tried to ignore them, struggling to return to Daisy. He could hear her calling his name, but he couldn't see her.

As he searched for Daisy, someone else came into view. A young, beautiful blonde girl smiled at him, but her face then contorted into a bloody visage, uttering his name. It was horrifying, and Eddie couldn't breathe. He knew it was only in his mind, but it felt too real.

Before he could fully grasp the vision, it shifted.

It was Steve. He had only been a stranger until this moment, just a guy who had come to a party and kissed Daisy. Just a vessel Eddie had used. But now... Steve was looking at him, and Eddie knew him. It felt like a flashback or a memory, but Eddie couldn't be sure. His mind spun, and there was no physical body to ground him. He was trapped in a vision of Steve talking to him, though he couldn't make out the words. They were at Hawkins High, the hallway of the school that Eddie only remembered in fragments. 

“I’m not messing around, Eddie. I’m fucking serious.” Steve says, staring directly at him. 

Steve knew Eddie, and suddenly, it was like a puzzle piece locking into place. Eddie took his first breath in what felt like an eternity. But before he could fully absorb his surroundings, he was ejected from the vision and found himself lying on the ground. The air had been knocked out of him, and he no longer felt heavy and warm; he just felt empty. Dead. 

Daisy. He begins to panic, not knowing where she is. Looking around he notices he’s back in the house and he runs out. He moves through the people in the house like the ghost he is. They no longer move out of the way for him. He is once again invisible and that feeling has a hard time settling within him. 

It didn't take long for Eddie to find Daisy in the garden. It must have only been seconds or minutes since Steve came back to his body. 

Tears streamed down Daisy’s cheeks, and she

gently touched Steve's arm, consoling him. Eddie watched Daisy talking with Steve from a distance, his gaze fixated on her hand resting on Steve's arm. 

The knowledge that he would never feel her touch again physically pained him. It was worse now, for he knew what it felt like, and before, it had all been a product of his imagination. Now, he could miss her in a way he hadn't before.

"It's okay, Steve. I promise. I get a little weepy with too much alcohol," Daisy said with a small laugh, attempting to ease Steve's discomfort.

It was clear that Steve felt confused and concerned about what had transpired with Daisy. She reassured him and made sure he knew everything was fine, all while Eddie watched from a distance. Steve did seem okay and that was also reassuring to Eddie. 

"No, it's fine. I just need a little air. I'll meet you inside," Daisy told Steve, kissing him on the cheek before he walked away.

The moment Steve left, Daisy's eyes met Eddie's. They were familiar eyes once again, but there was something new about them. It wasn't happiness, as he had initially thought, but a hint of sadness.

"Are you okay?" Eddie asked, taking a step forward and gently touching her arm.

But he couldn't touch her at all. They both noticed the way his hand passed right through her. A chilly wind swirled around them, and Daisy shivered. Eddie winced because he couldn't wrap his arms around her and draw her close. It’s fucked. It’s all fucked. 

“This was a mistake,” Daisy says.

"What? No," Eddie's brows furrowed.

Daisy nodded, looking away as she wiped her face. "We shouldn't have kissed."

"Yes, we should have. What are you talking about?"

Daisy scoffed and walked past him, leaving a shift between them that Eddie couldn't quite decipher.

"Dais, wait," Eddie hurried after her through the garden.

Daisy stopped abruptly and turned to face him. "Why did you do that? Why?"

She was more upset now, and it sent Eddie into a panic. He struggled to find his words, his brain feeling like mush after everything that had transpired today.

"Do what? What's wrong?"

Daisy stared at Eddie, trying to contain her emotions. "It's not fair. Making me feel something when nothing can ever happen between us. It's cruel."

Eddie wanted to laugh, not at her, but out of frustration with the situation. Did she think he had done this on purpose? Did she understand how unfair it was to him?

"Don't you think I know that?"

"Roommates don't kiss. It complicates things." Daisy crossed her arms.

That made Eddie laugh. She was picking a fight, and he knew it.

"Is that what we are, Dais?"

Daisy rolled her eyes and turned to walk toward the house. The music still played, but most people had moved inside, except for a couple of guys on the back patio, who were clearly loud and intoxicated.

"Come on, Daisy. Talk to me," Eddie pleaded a hint of desperation in his voice.

He watched her shake her head and stomp up the stairs to the patio. Eddie called after her again, and she turned back for a moment, saying, "Give me some space. Why don't you go wherever you go when you disappear for hours?"

They exchanged looks, and Eddie nodded once, a subtle signal that he understood she was upset and would respect her need for space. He fought against the part of him that wanted to make sure she was okay, but he knew this was what she wanted. So he watched her ascend the stairs. It was clear she is bothered by the things he doesn’t tell her and he understands that. Maybe tomorrow they could talk and clear the air. 

The two guys near the pool were shouting and laughing, entirely unaware that Daisy had been conversing with the dead behind their backs. They were so oblivious to her presence.

Daisy made her way up the stairs, eager to get inside.  However, as she walked past the strangers, one of the guys who was animatedly telling a story swung his arms wildly and accidentally knocked Daisy off balance. Time seemed to slow for Eddie as he watched Daisy fall, hit her head on the pool's edge, and plunge into the water.

If Eddie had been capable of breathing, he would have struggled. Within the blink of an eye, he found himself in the pool, desperately trying to grab Daisy. However, he couldn't touch her, and even in his panic, it took a moment for the realization to sink in. 

He surfaced in the pool, shouting for help as if someone could hear him. But the strangers had rushed inside, leaving Eddie raging with anger. No one else was outside. There was no one to help her.

The water surrounding Eddie and Daisy's lifeless body turned a chilling red, and he hovered in her blood. 

"Daisy! Baby, please get up," Eddie pleaded, his outstretched hands passing through her and the water like air. "Daisy!"

He called for help repeatedly, but no one heard. No one came to their aid. He darted through the crowded house, shouting desperately. He had never felt so alone as in that very moment. Each repetition was a dagger of despair, slicing through his very soul.

The witching hour had left him weak, unable to pull books from the shelves or flicker the lights to grab anyone’s attention. He was fucking useless. He shouted right in front of Sloan’s face as she danced with Robin, her smile undisturbed. It formed a pit in Eddie’s stomach. He even spotted Steve, reclining on the couch, leisurely sipping a beer and lost in his own mind. Probably trying to account for the lost hour. Eddie cursed him for not checking on Daisy. How could he leave her, even if she had told him to go?

After what felt like an eternity, he rushed back to Daisy’s side, making sure she wasn’t alone. His words were now softer, his panic giving way to a sense of hopelessness.

“I’m here, Dais. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” His voice trembled.

This is cruel. This is true torture. This is hell.

★ chapter seven coming soon ★

Taglist:

@eddiemunson4life420@boxofsmittens@sweet-villain@all-time-otaku@steveoswhore@randomreader1999@erinekc@ficwrld@randomreader1999@deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth@ficswrld @tlclick73 @citychick86@fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @erinekc @mandyjo8719 @sapphire4082

Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist.

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[polutrope]

Bedroom/house/living quarters, Maglor?

For this ask meme.

Cluttered. He likes having Things around to keep him company and remind him of people and experiences. Of course a lot of these are instruments, though most of his life he has another room for most of them. The ones in his bedroom have special memories attached. 

If it weren’t for Fëanor and Nerdanel both being neurotic about everything having a Place, his bedroom would be far more chaotic. In Beleriand, it’s the servants that keep it from becoming total chaos. 

Never makes his bed himself (and thinks it’s silly when someone else does); drapes clothing everywhere. 

I actually described two tapestries in his bedroom in Himring (post-Bragollach) in a fic once: one of a big dark wave on the ocean and another of Tirion set against the backdrop of the Pelori glittering gold (he is bad about indulging in nostalgia). 

He obviously loses everything he owns multiple times in his life, but he manages to gather more very quickly. This is to the (eye-rolling) amusement of his brothers, especially Maedhros, who has very few Things.

He is a guy who likes having his special space and this does not just go away after the First Age. So he does not just wander homeless for millennia. He settles in various huts and things here and there, mostly along the coasts. My favourite headcanon is that he lives in a beached sailboat, which is actually quite well-maintained and well-appointed because he has nothing else to do. 

He owns a lot less in these times (and less and less as time goes on and he learns to let go), but he always keeps enough dishes for a visitor. Just in case.

[sepublic]

Someone else pointed it out to me online, so I want to repeat these tidbits (and some of my own additions) here; But it’s neat spotting some of the recurring themes of Stone Ocean in the Stands we see. There’s a lot of discussion about intellect, about memories and the mind; So stuff like White Snake’s power to preserve memories, FF’s own belief in intellect that even animals can possess. Echoes of past life are spawned from corpses by Limp Bizkit. Burning Down the House resurrects ghost rooms, and Underworld is able to access the memories of the earth, suggesting an intelligence not just in life, but in all matter. Bohemian Rhapsody brings ideas to life and invokes nostalgia, like how Jailhouse Lock messes with one’s memories (Just as White Snake, its master, robs them).

There’s the recurring motif of gravity, such as in Jumping Jack Flash’s ability to negate it, or Planet Waves taking that to its logical extreme to summon meteors. KISS brings duplicates together like how ‘gravity’ attracts individuals to one another. And of course there’s C-Moon, which is fairly explicit about this.

Fate’s a big deal, we’ve got Dragon’s Dream, as well as in Made in Heaven allowing you to know your own fate; Similarly, Bohemian Rhapsody and Underworld are bound to how the story, AKA fate, goes. The untraceable speed of Made in Heaven is also paralleled in the rods that Sky High controls. Goo Goo Dolls, Green, Green Grass of Home, and C-Moon involve a moving ‘center’ for which a force grows stronger the closer you get to it.

Bohemian Rhapsody and Made in Heaven are apocalyptic stands operating on a global scale, and reflect a person’s belief that they’re the hero. And this may be a stretch, but Manhattan Transfer and Dragon’s Dream both guide the user, just as people are guided by fate in an unpredictable trajectory. Likewise, Highway to Hell and Diver Down both share damage.

And on a final note, you know how Jailhouse Lock interfering with one’s memories can cause people to repeat the same actions, over and over again? Almost like a loop... A time loop? A memory reset? 

[dragonologist-phd]

[ surprise ] for piper and arue if it sparks joy!

thank you!! it does, indeed!

[ surprise ] a sudden kiss to catch the partner off guard

also on ao3

Piper’s fingers move slowly over the piano keys, feeling out a slow melody which reverberates through the hall, rising and falling with deep, gentle waves. The music carries a strange nostalgia with it- and no wonder, considering how long it’s been since she’s had the chance to sit herself at such a grand piece of art.

Truthfully, pianos have never been Piper’s favored instrument; they’re bulky, heavy, the last thing that would be useful for someone on the move. None of that means she doesn’t know her way around the ivories, of course, nor does it prevent her from recognizing a quality instrument when she sees it.

“It’s beautiful,” Arueshalae murmurs. The succubus sits alongside Piper on the piano bench, her eyes closed and her shoulders softly swaying as she listens to the music.

“I’ll send my regards to the craftsman,” Piper replies, and she fully intends to actually do so. Most of her recent gifts, she’s ignored; people are ever so fond of showering the Worldwound’s destroyer with tokens of gratitude, but she has no intentions of needing more swords or gilded armor in the near future.

But this? This is something she can appreciate.

As Piper continues to play, her fingers eventually move of their own accord, shifting back to an old familiar song. It’s one she learned long ago; from the last time she had access to a piano like this, in fact. Not a time she cares to remember often…but the song comes back as if it were only yesterday, weaving its way from Piper’s memory to her fingertips, to the chords that sing it out into the open.

A melancholy undertone makes itself known in the music- not one that was intended when Piper first composed the piece, but one which seeps into everything from that time of her life regardless of intention. Notes flow and pick up speed with little effort, twisting memories into melody. Stars, but Piper half-expects to lift her eyes and see Eliyen reclined on the other side of the room, pretending not to watch Piper as she plays.

That was what she aways did, wasn’t it? As if she didn’t want anyone else to know.

Piper is startled from her reverie as Arueshalae’s lips brush against the corner of her mouth, catching her off guard. Her fingers stutter and the music stops, and Arueshalae shrinks away, suddenly embarrassed.

“Oh- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“You’ve nothing to worry about,” Piper is quick to say. “I was lost in thought, is all.”

Arueshalae relaxes at Piper’s reassurance, though some uncertainty remains in her expression. “I didn’t intend to interrupt. You just looked so…sad, for a moment there.”

She gazes so earnestly at Piper, and despite the lingering memories, a warmth spreads through Piper’s chest. The piano bench creaks as Piper leans forward to softly kiss Arueshalae’s lips, her hand reaching up to cradle her love’s face. There is no grand, earth-shattering passion in this moment; the gesture is merely simple and comforting, and they’re both smiling when they pull away.

“Just thinking of old times,” Piper says, her fingers returning to the keys. She plays something new this time, a brighter tune- something hopeful. As the music forms, an idea occurs to her. “Would you like to learn?”

Arueshalae’s eyes go wide with wonder. “Oh- oh, yes, please!”

The two wile away the rest of the afternoon sitting at the piano, Piper’s hands guiding Arueshalae’s up and down the rows of keys. It’s slow going, but note by note and piece by piece they work to make new music together.