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

[edwinspaynes]

GHOSTS IN THE SNOW

I spent a lot of the day thinking I WILL SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST IF I DO NOT SEE A PAYNELAND SNOW KISS RIGHT NOW. Unfortunately, I could not find one to look upon, so I decided to write one. Here you are! You can also read it on Ao3.

Edwin did not like to admit it, but he barely remembered what it meant to feel cold.

Charles did - considering the manner in which he died, it was no surprise. And yet all Edwin could recall was heat, not only from the fires of Hell but also from running, and running, and running. As he strolled along the peaceful nighttime streets of London, Charles's hand in his, he contemplated what it might be like to feel the light snowfall on his face. To have his cheeks wind-whipped and numb, to catch the large, fluffy falling snowflakes in his mouth and taste them.

Edwin did not frequently yearn for life, but in that moment, he felt something like nostalgia for it.

"What're you thinking about, mate?" Charles's voice cut through the still darkness. The world was quiet here, away from London's main roads at three in the morning, but Charles's voice was bold and brave. "You've got that look on your face, the one you get when you're really engrossed in some book or puzzle."

"And what sort of look is that?" Edwin's voice was light.

Charles scrunched up his face and narrowed his eyes rather adorably.

Edwin chuckled. "You are being ridiculous," he admonished. "I have never looked like that. You once told me that my contemplative expression is quite clever; I shall choose to believe that rather than your insulting impression."

Charles smiled slightly. "Are you saying I didn't look clever like that? Well, that's rude, isn't it, when I tried so hard."

"You shall have to make a better effort next time." Edwin waved the hand that was not holding Charles's in the air, and Charles squeezed his hand. They continued to stroll along, and Edwin watched the flurries swirl under the light-posts. Electric lighting had been new back in his day, and it was not nearly as bright as this, so bright as to illuminate the snowfall and -

"Oi," Charles said. "You're doing it again." He did not release Edwin's hand, but brought the other one up to poke him on the shoulder. He poked far too many times, far too quickly. Edwin would not have had Charles any other way. "Come on, Edwin," he continued, "what's going on in that big brain of yours, huh?"

Edwin rolled his eyes and huffed. "I am simply contemplating what it might be like to feel... cold," he said. "I do not remember it."

"Oh." Charles stopped walking, and Edwin with him. His hand went slack, and they pulled apart as Charles continued. "That's... I guess... I don't really remember normal cold either, do I? Just like, the perils of terminal hypothermia or whatever."

"Very uplifting," Edwin murmured, and Charles nudged him.

"But. But." Charles tilted his head at Edwin. "I bet it's, like, the opposite of warm, yeah? Like, when you hold my hand, that's warm. Cold would be... the other thing, yeah?"

"Have you never thought it odd that humans always wish to sort things into arbitrary binaries? As much as I enjoy organized thought processes..."

"Hot/cold doesn't feel that arbitrary," Charles argued.

"I shall have to conduct further study." Edwin steepled his hands before himself, an unconscious habit that he knew made him appear confident.

But Charles grinned again. "I mean, if you want something else warm so you can better understand what its opposite might be..."

"Whatever do you mean?"

Charles reached out. He clasped Edwin's hands in his own, breaking his folded hands apart and squeezing his fingers. Then, still smiling, Charles took a step closer to Edwin and placed his hands on either side of his face. Edwin smiled at the last moment before their lips met, and Charles's mouth was as gentle as the snowflakes blowing lightly through the sky.

And warm. Of course, he was warm.

When Charles pulled away, large, uniquely-shaped snowflakes were stark against his black hair. Edwin wondered whether he was in such a state, too, and whether Charles liked the contrast as much as he did. But he did not have to wonder for long. Charles laughed quietly and reached upward to smooth down Edwin's hair, his expression so woefully fond that Edwin had to fight the urge to look away. "Love you, mate," he said casually, and Edwin could not help but smile.

Edwin's heart melted, but his eyes narrowed. "Wait," he said. "What on Earth did that have to do with our previous conversation? How am I meant to better understand the nature of cold due to that?"

"You're not," Charles said without a hint of shame. "I just made up an excuse to kiss you, didn't I. And it worked."

Edwin pivoted toward Charles. "You are trickier than I gave you credit for," he said, smirking.

"And you love me," Charles said, smiling as he trailed after Edwin.

Edwin reached out behind him, and Charles took his hand. "I suppose I do," Edwin mused.

He did not see the way that Charles smiled down at his boots.

dbda taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed):

@tiredandoptimistic @thevagabondexpress @stormkitty97 @innocentmapleleaf

@honorarypines @tragedy-machine @pisces-swirlix @authoricdemon @many-gay-magpies

@edwardianedwin @babyseraphim @stephen0118 @ingridmatthews

[punkrockisafulltimejob]

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

[beefycupcakes]

I watched the Cars trilogy recently and with that came a wave of nostalgia and a strange desire to make my own designs for the cars as humans. Aka taking all the charm out of Cars but scratching the brain itch.

So, no need to drag out the intro any longer, I have some notes written out about em for those who might be interested or just bored.

Lightning McQueen:

I tried to make his suit look as professional as possible, with references pulled straight from McQueen's paint job/stickers, while also keeping in mind that I do intend to draw him more so I didn't want to go too crazy with the design. In a perfect world I would've let my maximalist cravings win, but alas let's keep it digestible for my sanity.

I feel like everyone's kinda on this unspoken agreement that McQueen as a human would pretty much look just like Owen Wilson, and that's the big picture here. I used Wilson as inspiration while tweaking and exaggerating a few things to my preference. (Okay, well not everyone, lmao.)

The chevron markings on the front cut off at the side seams not wrapping around the entire suit as to not clash with the sponsor logo on the back.

Also, he's wearing special gloves to help him grip & have control over the steering wheel. I think sometimes that looks a little weird when his sleeves are down & cuffed, but I just feel like he needs to have the gloves there— especially when he comes out of the top half of the suit. (It's also lowkey supposed to mirror his 4 tires when you consider his shoes are also black.)

So yeah, that's basically all I have to to say regarding Lightning McQueen's page. I feel like a lot of my design choices are self explanatory and, honestly probably shared universally... I mean, he's really cut & dry. (But I love him ⚡︎)

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Mater:

I'm not gonna lie, Mater was a bit challenging for me. I definitely had to step out of my comfort zone but I wanted to stay true to the character and not butcher anything.

My first thought was to give him a fishing pole to substitute for the tow hook— but then the more I was thinking about it, the more that felt so... out of place? Radiator Springs is in Arizona, which is (not entirely, but mostly depicted in the movie as) a desert. And even though there are beautiful bodies of water in Arizona, in the movie I don't recall seeing any prominent ones, at least in relation to Mater. So, scratch that, instead I gave him a lasso, which isn't supposed to entirely substitute for the tow truck— no, he still drives a tow truck, but the lasso is so he can grab people/things similarly to Tow Truck Mater (very cartoony). My explanation for this is the cattle ranch. Yeah, Mater is a tow truck driver but perhaps he has a side hustle, or hobby, if you will.

Also, I didn't want to make him... dirty(??) Like, yeah, of course, Mater would obviously get a bit filthy from time to time, it's just in his nature, but that is NOT going to be the core of my design. In regards to the rust happening on him, I felt like instead I would substitute this with being very tan. Again, Arizona is a desert. Because of this, he would take off his shirt often, and this would substitute for the missing hood like on Tow Truck Mater. The removal of the shirt also reveals just how tan Mater actually is.

It's his uniformed overalls that have his original aqua color, but from years of wear & tear they've been patched up with brown patches, this would also reference the rusting. The one strap is supposed to mimic the one headlight being broken, and I know that's a stretch, believe me, I wanted to do something with his eyes but eyes are not the headlights in the Cars universe..... think about this. Think about it really hard... if you know what the headlights are in the Cars universe then this actually makes perfect sense.

He is taller and wider than McQueen, which is a reference to the literal frame of their vehicle counterparts. (A little hard to picture with these images, but eventually I'll draw them together!)

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That's all I have to say really, but do let me know what you guys think! Gas it up and it might encourage me to make a part 2 with some of the other characters! Who would you like to see next? ♡ Thank you so much for reading & have a great day, Kachow!!

[miley1442111]

hiii!! i was wondering if you would maybe wanna write a Chef Luca x reader that takes place at the Ever funeral (they met there) and they get to tell everyone that they are engaged? that would be very cute i think

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time after time- chef luca

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a/n: thank you so much for requesting, I loved this idea and maybe got a little carried away... :)

summary: a look in at your life with luca

pairings: chef luca x fem! reader

warnings: kissing, cursing, smut (18+) (piv, oral (f reciving), fighting, anxiety, brief mention of vomit, reader gets hurt, blood, talk of injuries and stitches (i think that's it??)

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As you walked into the Ever funeral, you couldn’t help but feel the nostalgia hit you like a wave. This was where you’d learnt to cook, where you met some of your best life-long friends, and of course, Luca. As you looked at the halls you’d known so well, you couldn’t help but think about your time there, and how it had impacted you, in every way. 

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

Your first day…

You walked in ten minutes early. You were supposed to be twenty minutes early, if you hadn’t had to stop and vomit before you left your new apartment. Chicago was growing on you, though you were surprised at how cold it truly got there, since you’d been living in Spain for the past couple of years. You walked through the halls, everything new, as you greeted fellow students/ chefs. Everyone knew who you were, you were supposed to be a rising star in the food world, winning the ‘Rising Chef Award’ that year for your work in Azurmendi restaurant, a michelin star restaurant in Spain. You were supposed to be the best, so when people found out you weren’t, they would have a fucking field day. 

Carmen Berzatto was quiet, but he was the person you clicked with the most. Clearly the mentally disturbed got along well, that's what you two said anyways. 

Luca was a fucking prick. He was the cockiest of cocky pieces of shit, he was acting like he owned the place, and better yet, he was fucking stunningly gorgeous. You turned to your new friend, Gilian as she swooned over the British accent, tattoos, and built arms. 

The day went by smoothly, hitting it off with other chefs in the group, but never really getting close enough to Luca to really see anything other than his cocky smirks and party-boy aura. You loved Ever already, and you were excelling. You got put with Gillian as your partner, and Carm was put with Luca, and though they both tried to switch, no one would take the other, so they were forced to deal with it. 

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

Your first week…

Luca and Carmen were a match made in hell. They politely threw digs at each other right under Chef Andrea’s nose, and when they were caught, she was too fond of the both of them to actually punish them. You’d learnt that Carm had a great way of getting people to do the things he wanted them to, aka, screaming at the top of his lungs, and Luca was slower than Carm, which meant they were both equally as insufferable as each other. Like you said, match made in hell. 

You stayed late one night, trying to perfect a recipe you were supposed to send back to Azurmendi. It was beating your ass, every single time it just felt wrong. Like something was missing. 

You watched in horror as Luca walked into the kitchen, his apron on and a bowl of pastry dough in his hands. 

God, this was going to be a long night. 

“What are you making?” He asked, kneading the dough. 

“Just something for Azurmendi,” you mumbled, not exactly wanting this conversation to progress. Some of the girls had been complaining about his ‘asshole behaviour’ but what they really meant was that he was handsome and didn’t want to go out with them. 

“Can I see?’ he asked, and you nodded slowly, moving out of the way of the dish to let him try it. 

It was a deconstructed caramelised banana pudding with raspberry compote that was still missing something. He walked around the counter, his eyes on you the whole time as you absorbed yourself in the plate. It looked beautiful, but did it taste good? You’d tried a hundred and one things with it, strawberry compote, vanilla sauces, mango, everything. This was your last resort. 

He looked at the plater, moving it around to get different angles. It was a stunning presentation, he couldn’t lie. “What does it taste like?”

You shrugged. He chuckled. 

“What?” he chuckled. “Are you messing with me?”

You shook your head. “I don’t like bananas, or raspberries,” you shrugged. “You taste it and tell me.” 

He was in shock when you handed him a spoon. “You’re sure?” and you nodded.

He dug in, tasting the banana pudding, with the caramel, and the raspberry compote and… it was delicious. Probably the best thing he’d ever eaten, and from the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. See, you wouldn’t know this until years later but since the first day, he’d been looking at you. He’d wanted nothing more than to even be friends with you, he didn’t even know he;d one day become your boyfriend, then your fiancé, and soon, your husband. “That’s fucking brilliant.”

You smiled softly. “You sure?”

“Best thing I’ve ever eaten, hands down,” he nodded, taking another spoon. 

You chuckled. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, trust me, I’m not,” he said, shovelling another spoon into his mouth. “You mind if I finish this?” He asked, mouth full of the dessert. Usually stuff like that would make you gag, but Luca made it funny. You found yourself laughing. ���Luca,” he smiled, holding out his hand for you to take once he’d finished his meal. 

“Y/n,” you smiled. 

“You’re really impressive, I’ve seen your stuff. I’d love to pick your brain about Azumendi, if you wouldn’t mind me geeking out about you for a few hours?” He smiled. He was pretty charismatic, and pretty well… pretty. 

“Sure,” you nodded. “When are you free?”

“Saturday night? I know this great restaurant nearby,” He smiled. 

“I’m free Saturday night,” you nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Sounds like a date to me!” Chef Andrea called from behind you two as she walked in. You two jumped apart, despite being pretty far apart to begin with. 

“I-um-you didn’t- it doesn't have to be-” you stumbled over your words as Luca watched with a crooked smile on his face. 

“It's a date,” he cut you off. “Unless you don’t want it to be.” 

You nodded. “Then I think it’s a date,” you smiled. 

Luca was sure to thank Andrea the next day. 

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

Saturday night…

You got out of your chef white’s the second you got home and straight into getting ready for the date that was forty-five minutes away. You did your makeup, got dressed, then waited by the door for Luca. 

The doorbell rang and there he was, pink shirt, black slacks and that same Luca smile. He looked you up and down and smiled. “God you’re fucking gorgeous.”

You felt yourself heat up at his comment. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He smiled wider and off you went to Lorenzo’s, an Italian spot near Ever. 

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The night went off perfectly, he was sweet, funny, and he actually listened to you as you geeked out about food and restaurants and everything in between. Luca was great. 

When he dropped you back off at your apartment, you were laughing so hard you almost fell over, he caught you by the waist, pulling you into his as he chuckled. 

You didn’t realise how close he was until you noticed his breath on your cheek. Soon, the laughing was softened to sweet smiles, and he cupped your cheek and kissed you softly, much softer than you'd imagined. His lips were sweet, still tasting of the berry dessert you’d shared after your delicious meal. You pull back, a shocked smile on your face.

“I really like you,” he admitted, blushing. “And I really want to take you out again.”

You smiled. “I’d really like that.”

His face lit up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. He let go of you, watching as you unlocked your apartment door. 

“Bye,” he smiled. You couldn’t resist, you pressed your lips to his again as his hands circled your waist and yours went to mess up his hair. 

“Bye,” you called after you pulled away, turning to go inside. He looked so good like that, lips red, hair slightly tousled, shocked look on his face. It was nice. He was nice. 

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One month in… 

Luca watched you as you walked into the kitchen, talking with Chef Andrea as she asked about the dish you had made in Azurmendi. He thought you were gorgeous, his eyes were always drawn to you in every room. The past month had been full of dinner dates, getting lunch, and sometimes meeting up for breakfasts before work. He was falling in love with you, and he knew it. Everything about you made him want to know more, to spend more time with you, to be with you. Granted, he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet, but all that would change today. He’d decided that on your usual lunch break, he’d ask you to officially be his girlfriend. That was the right thing to do, right? 

“You good man?” Carmen asked, chewing much too loud in Luca’s opinion. 

“Fine,” he answered, finally out of his trance. 

Carmen stared at him for a moment. “You good?”

“Good Chef,” he nodded. 

“Cause it looks to me that you’re staring at Chef Y/n,” he observed. “And that means your head isn’t in the kitchen. Is your head not in the kitchen, Chef?”

“My head is as firmly in the kitchen as yours is up your ass Carm,” Luca retorted before leaving to grab his ingredients for the day. Carmen Berzatto was a dick, Luca had no idea what you saw in him as a friend. 

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You were cutting, the same as always. Then you felt the familiar nudge that CArm had been giving you in recent weeks, just a friendly tap on the back as he passed behind you. Then there was a knife in your hand. “Fuck!” More specifically, there was a huge gash in your hand. 

Everyone’s eyes shot up, all attention on you. No one moved as you grabbed your hand, blood gushing as your eyes welled up. You crouched down, holding your hand in pain. 

“Y/n-” Carm tried but Luca was quick to swoop in, kneeling beside you. 

“Are you alright? Come on, let’s go,” he held you as he led you out of the kitchen. He held you close, practically carrying you as he put you into his car, rushing you to A&E. 

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

Some stitches, a lot of bandages, and a blood bag later (you’d lost a lot), you were discharged and exhausted. Chicago A&E wait times are no fucking joke. Luca drove you back to your apartment. 

“Anything I can do for you?” He asked, still worried about you. 

“Do you want to come up and we can get takeout? I need to thank you for taking care of me today,” you chuckled. He shook his head, a smile on his face.

“No need for thanking, I’m just glad that you’re ok,” he smiled. “But I will take you up on dinner, since we missed our lunch date today.”

You walked up, hand in hand (not your hurt one), and led him into your apartment. He’d never truly been inside, only getting glimpses, but he knew he’d love it. It was perfect, it was so you. Knick-knacks from you various hobbies and pictures from your life, even one of you as a kid. 

“Cute kid,” he smiled, picking up the photo. You laughed. “She’s cuter now.”

You rolled your eyes at his bad joke. “Shut up,” you chuckled. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Lorenzo’s?” He offered. 

“Wow,” you chuckled. “Call back to when we first started dating.”

He nodded. So you were dating, right? “Exactly.”

“Huh, look at that,” you smiled, trying to keep up the facade of not being very nervous about this. “It’s been exactly a month since.”

“Our one month anniversary,” he smiled and your heart melted. He also thought you were actually dating, even if he hadn’t specifically called you his girlfriend, and you hadn’t explicitly said he was your boyfriend. 

He was silent for a moment, so were you. Just looking at each other.

“That means I can call you my girlfriend, right?” He asked, a bashful smile on his lips. 

You smiled back. “Yes.” 

“Good,” he groaned, pulling your waist into his. “I’ve been wanting to call you that all month.”

You chuckled. “I’m glad.”

He smiled. “So you’re my girlfriend.”

“So you’re my boyfriend,” you chuckled and he pressed his lips to yours. 

“Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” he asked, pulling away. 

“I don’t think I deserve that title after crying today. I’m an ugly crier,” you chuckled. 

“You are not an ugly crier, plus it was Carmen’s fucking fault anyway,” he defended. 

You shrugged. “Things happen in the kitchen.”

“And that wouldn’t have happened if Carm was such a piece of shit,” he cursed, smiling at you. 

“Let’s just order dinner, yeah?” 

He pressed his lips to yours again. “Yeah.”

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

Two months in…

You and Luca had both had a shit day, nothing had gone right in the kitchen, you’d burnt yourself, and Carmen was really getting on Luca’s nerves, to the point of a screaming match during lunch. 

He pushed you up against the counter as he pressed searing kisses to your lips and neck. You were boiling, despite the freezing kitchen.

“Luc,” you groaned. You and Luca hadn’t gone further than heavy making out, and something told you that Luca wasn’t slowing down this time. It was late, you were the only two still there, who could it hurt?

He pulled your t-shirt over your head pressing a kiss to your clavicle. “So gorgeous.”

“Luca, someone could come in,” You hissed as he pressed kisses down your torso. “Luca!”

He looked up from between your legs, eyes dark and hair messy, and a part of you just didn’t care. You wanted him. “Please baby.”

You nodded, a smile on your face. He pulled off your jeans and underwear in one fluid movement as you lay back. 

“So pretty baby,” he pressed kisses to the insides of your thighs as you started overthinking the entire situation. Someone could just come in, anyone, even Andrea, you had no fucking idea. Also, did Luca actually want to do this? Most guys didn’t like eating pussy, and you didn’t even know the last time you’d shaved. 

He finally pressed his tongue against your clit and your brain short- circuited. “Luca!” You moaned, putting a hand in his hair. “Fuck Luca, there!”

Luca added a finger, then two, until you were writhing on the table, fucking you past your first orgasm and into another one, as he moaned along like he was being pleasured by this.  He didn’t stop sucking and fucking your pussy with his tongue for a long time, despite how hard he was in his boxers, despite how much he wanted to fuck you. You tasted incredible, something he could only dream of recreating, oh, that was a good idea… Anyway, he fucked you through two orgasms, then stood back up. 

You whined at the loss of contact as he unzipped his trousers, taking out his cock. God, he was big. Big, and fucking thick. “Luca I-”

“Are you on birth control?” He asked, spreading some of your slick over his cock and stroking himself.

You nodded. He smiled. 

“Good girl.”

And with that, he pushed into you in one painful thrust. You moaned into his mouth as he pressed his to yours in a searing kiss. He let you adjust, then slowly started moving.   

“Faster,” you begged. “Faster Luca.”

He was all too happy to oblige. 

And that’s how your first time fucking Luca was in the kitchen of Ever. 

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The big fight…

It had been a shit fucking week. Chicago was cold and damp, and your bike had gotten a flat on your way home from work. Shitty. On Monday, your trainee burnt you, then blamed you. On Tuesday, you didn’t even see Luca, he was too busy at Ever. On Wednesday, you smashed your phone screen. On Thursday, Luca’s mother called to say she was visiting next week, with absolutely no warning, so that meant you had to sort out your new apartment all night. 

Shitty. 

Luca barged in, angry from the week. All week he had been fucking up. Small mistake no one should be making, let alone him. Worst part? He hadn’t seen you all week. But there you were, sitting on the couch with a book, snuggled into a throw blanket. 

“Hey,” he called out. No reply. “Baby?” No reply. “Babe!”

No reply. “Fine, fucking be like that.”

Luca marched into the bathroom, his anger bubbling. 

You hadn’t even seen him enter, too engrossed in your novel and the music in your earphones to look up. After about an hour of reading, you left your cosy spot on the couch, retiring to the bedroom. And there he was, your Luca, lying in bed. 

“Hey,” you smiled, climbing into bed beside him. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Of course you didn’t,” he scoffed, pulling away from you. “You never fucking listen anyways.”

You were taken aback. Why the fuck was he being so pissy? “What?”

“It’d be great if you could even give me, your fucking boyfriend, a singular moment of your time, but I see that that’s too much to ask, so I’ll just go fuck myself.”

“Luca, what is wrong with you?” You huffed, confused at his words. 

“Maybe I’ve had a shitty week alright? And maybe I wanted to spend time with you but you were too busy with your book to even fucking see me!” 

You sighed. “Luc, I had headphones in, I couldn’t fucking hear you.”

“Oh yeah? And how many times have I asked you to turn down the volume or take one out so you can hear the world around you?” He asked condescendingly. 

“Baby, you’re not meant to be home until 11 most nights, not 7:30. I thought I had time!” 

“I sent you a text about it and all!”

“I wasn’t on my phone!” you defended. 

He sighed. “I’m not doing this right now,” and he walked out of your bedroom, and out of the apartment. 

And you were alone. What had just happened?

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

Luca took a walk to clear his head, but he just felt worse. He was being a dick and he knew it, but he was just so stressed. Work was hard, and you were the only one who made him feel good enough. And recently, since you’d transferred to another restaurant he’d been wondering if he was good enough in the  kitchen, and for you. 

You were amazing, countless chef awards, you’re a beautiful, stunning woman, but you were also kind, patient, and funny. 

Was he enough for you?

 And that night, it had all just exploded. 

He walked back into the apartment to find you on the couch, eyes puffy and red-rimmed, nose running. He felt awful. 

“I’m so sorry baby,” he whispered, kneeling in front of you. “I’m such an arsehole.”

“Yeah you are,” you sniffled. “But so am I. I’m sorry about the headphones.”

He shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I was just stressed this week, and I’m just taking it out on you. “I’m sorry, and I love you.”

You both froze. In your year and a half of dating, neither of you had been brave enough to admit that you loved each other, obviously, you both knew and felt the love, but neither of you had been brave enough to do it. 

“Oh,” you said, and Luca looked up, a shocked look on his face. “I love you too,” you blurted out. 

He smiled. “Good, I'm glad.” 

You chuckled. “Me too.”

You both burst out laughing. 

“That was so diplomatic!” you giggled. 

“Who says ‘oh’ after someone says they love them?” Luca laughed, pulling you into his arms as you laughed. 

Your fight had been long forgotten in a matter of seconds. 

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

“Thinking about things?” Luca squeezed your hand, bringing you back to reality. He smirked at you. 

“Maybe?” You smiled, holding him closer. “You?”

“Of course I am,” he whispered. “You looked so gorgeous on the counter-”

“Shut the fuck up!” You groaned. 

Andrea suddenly appeared in front of  you two, a bright smile on her face. “My two chefs!”

“Andrea!” You smiled, pulling her in for a hug. Andrea had always been one of your biggest supporters (well, her and Luca), always calling when she heard something new about your restaurant, and even coming to visit when she was in London. 

“How are you two?” She asked. You smiled at Luca, who smiled back. 

“We’re engaged,” you beamed, showing off the beautiful ring Luca had given to you, just a week ago. 

“Oh my god!” she squealed. “What wonderful news!”

“What’s the wonderful news?” Carmen butted in, a smile on his face. 

“We’re engaged,” Luca answered. 

“Shit, congratulations!” He smiled, pulling you both in for a hug. 

“Well, that is going to be one amazing wedding,” Andrea added. “Who’s your caterer?” She joked.

You both laughed. It felt good. It felt good to be this loved.

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the bear masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[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.

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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

[mistress-riddle]

‘𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐏𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐘!

request. Can u do a father's Day with Tom riddle of how he spends time with his child?

cw. tom riddle x wife! afab reader, use of she/her pronouns, a changed riddle who let fatherhood make him become a better person.

a sigh escapes tom’s lips and he doesn’t even bother to contain it. returning home and being met with the sight of toys scattered on the floor and the smell of milk permeating through the air revokes an odd feeling of nostalgia through tom as he avoids the obstacles on the floor and beelines straight to the dark grey sofa occupied by 2 individuals.

.

tom places his briefcase on the coffee table and takes a good look at the mother and child snoozing together, soft breaths escaping their lips as they cling to one another in a quiet slumber. this time tom releases a softer sigh and easily drapes a random blanket on his family and retreats to his room for a quick shower, he decides to join them once he’s finished. it doesn’t take long for the man to wash up and get changed, a quick flick of his wrist and his wet hair is dried and styled in its normal wear and he’s by their side, slowly and gently scooping the sleepy child into his hold. the mother stirs, eyes fluttering open and a yawn escapes her as she rubs at her eye, using the other open eye to scan the room. it rests on the standing figure of tom who’s patting the baby’s back as softly as he can.

“oh honey, you’re back?” [name] asks, fixing the baby bib on her shoulder and placing the baby bottle on the table, which was previously clutched in her palm to feed their baby before the two decided to take a much needed nap.

“i wasn’t required at work today so i came home early.” he shrugs, not too strongly of course since the baby’s cheek is smushed against his shoulder and he didn’t want to wake him up.

“that’s wonderful.” [name] claims, getting up from the couch to pat his free shoulder and places a hand over her mouth to cover the yawn “you want something to eat? we had a late lunch around half an hour ago, or maybe it was 2 hours?” by the dazed look in her eyes tom wouldn’t doubt it being over 2 hours ago.

“it’s fine, i ate before coming here.” he lifts a hand and places it on his wife’s flushed cheek, using a thumb to caress it “how was the little one when i was gone? didn’t bother you much?” 

[name] raises a brow at him and allows a smirk to extend across her lips. tom seems to think that he’s a baby whisperer. he used to brag about how every time he was left to deal with one of the younger orphans back at wool’s, they’d fall silent in his presence. [name] doesn’t have the heart to tell him that the children were just scared of his glares. although, their little baby seems to actually enjoy his company, if the cutest little smile that lift his baby cheeks and incoherent babbling are anything to go by.

“he was fine, didn’t make a fuss, thank merlin.” the teething phase is a pain but little leo was being better than others his age. [name] lifts toms hand off her cheek and enters the kitchen, a few waves of her hand and she has the teapot hovering over 2 mugs. 

tom takes a seat on the couch and shits the baby to rest on his lap, hands grasping two little ones as he fondly looks at the infant. he looks like a perfect mix between tom and [name], has tom’s black hair that shows the softest wave, [name]’s nose and lips and tom’s eyes. it’s a weird position tom finds himself in as he stares at their child. he thought it was foolish of people to settle down and procreate, thought it was weak and if you were to ask him 10 years ago if he was going to start a family of his own, he would have laughed in your face and walked away. now, however, tom finds himself cringing at his foolish 17 year old self, so self-absorbed and driven by all the wrong things. 

“sickle for your thoughts?” [name] interrupts tom. he startles and presses rather harshly into tiny leo’s hand. a grimace overtakes the two as they fear the wailing that might follow but the baby merely peeks 2 eyes open and sends them a dissatisfied look “woah, tommy, it’s like looking at a carbon copy of you.” [name] snorts as she scratches a finger against the puffy cheeks of the baby, hoping to placate him in some way.

“very funny.” tom dryly replies and sends her a similar expression which does nothing to cease her amusement.

“strong genes you got there.” the husband just rolls his eyes before looking back at his baby and smiling down at him.

“had a good sleep, huh?” he asks his son who reaches up and tom holds him up allowing the boy to grasp the satin material of tom’s pajamas in his clutch, resting his cheek against toms chest.

“leo,” [name] calls softly from beside tom as she rubs the baby’s head affectionately “wanna tell daddy what we prepared for him?” tom raises one brow in curiosity as his baby stirs happily in place and mumbles something much like the word “cake” into toms neck.

“you baked me a cake?” he asks and is momentarily met with a chocolate covered cake with the words ‘happy father’s day’ iced on top of it with what he presumes to be white chocolate. a shoddy art piece can be located towards the bottom of the cake and tom feels confident enough to credit little leo as the artist. something swells in toms heart as he receives a kiss on both cheeks from his two beloveds.

“happy father’s day, love.” [name] whispers softly into his ear and tom picks up on the babble from leo “ ‘appy papa day!”

with [name] feeding all 3 of them the cake and tom entertaining the baby, they sit together in perfect harmony. plans of revenge, destruction and war long discarded and forgotten in favour of this. tom quite liked the feeling that came with receiving kisses from his family as opposed to the splitting of one’s soul.

[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's 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."

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

A Marble in a Mixed Bag

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Reader

Words: 814

Some affections reach past the bounds of universes.

Tags: oneshot, nostalgia, hope, pre-httyd 1, gender neutral reader, gn!reader

Polyvinyl Chloride and gloss, plastic grass pieces under faux brown boots, brushed and scratched to create the illusion of furs- You ogled at it through the glass window, smudged by the oils and debris of the people before you. 

Hot air brushed back up against your face, warm and heated, nearly suffocating, trapped in the distance between your mouth and the glass, of which there was little.

You weren't sure which company had made it, but you could imagine what the site had looked like on preorder, seedy and poorly text-ed, all garish color of border-less screen.

Airbrushed hair and cheeks, dappled freckles along two cheeks and a dandy, uneven wry grin frame just above a spruced shirt in the green tunic style- It was a piece of art, a statuette, and very much out of your price range. 

It was an unprofessional shop, dark and stuffed and almost messy but really not in a very homey way, with maybe imports and some other odd, geeky things hidden behind.

People moved to and fro behind you, sweaty mall crowds, musty with the smell and feel of body heat and cheap fabrics and perfumes and stiff, swaying plastic bags, filling what space was left with mindless, enthused chatter, nearly incomprehensible, words lost in the sea of many bodies.

You hardly paid them any mind. You hardly paid it all any mind- you were too busy yearning.

It was quite the odd one out compared to the large plastic mechas besides, or perhaps a few boxes away, packaged and place tightly together with too-close-together text and full box sides and millions of mark-down stickers in white and yellow, all grays and bright blues and reds and other fanciful colors, with garish metal fillings and nearly transparent resin.

Sickly mall lights glinted against shiny, beaded eyes, covered in a thin film of whatever hardened chemical, covering ivory white and a timid neutral green. It was so clear, nearly square, curving over a round surface. You could nearly see the lines of the ceiling way up in its reflection, clear as it was, slightly affected by the ever-present motion of the awning world behind you. 

If eyes could sparkle- you something eager pressed against the corner of your eyes, your heart picking up in speed. 

So strong was the feeling and the excitement in your chest that it threatening to have you shivering and shaking and your hands waving, floating, hopping on two feet, but you stayed still, jaw tensing, mouth curling upwards, hands coming up to hesitantly press against smooth, smudged, oily glass.

Mowing lawns, cutting hair, running around like a headless chicken, chores, hopes, dreams and wantings- you wanted.

Hiccup- well, he’d never been into dolls, but this was more a figure than a doll, like one of his cousin’s many carved warriors, all made up of dragon bone pieces and scratched wooden surfaces, stone helmets and mismatched, dull metal axes. The ones he’d paraded around just as he’d worn his own too-large helmet and had run around with wooden swords and shields that Hiccup had never been big enough to carry when he’d been young enough to play with them. 

Of course he’d been jealous, but then he’d gotten you.

His fingertips grazing over its surface as he held onto its delicate middle with his other hand, feeling just as fond just as something else inside him felt nearly worshipful.

It had been made incredibly smooth with age, the feeling offset only by a set of notches in its side, scratches made on accident by trips and falls and the very rare drop.

You’d been lost for much too long. There was a feeling…

Childhood, of companionship, truest feelings and long-held assurance -the only one, the smallest, rag-yarn clay figure- he one he’d been given, a friend that he could keep and play with, play-fight with and foster happy moments.

Dusts and soots and oils left a mark against your frayed doll cheek raising recent memories of levers and axles and stoney forge fires, bolas and boulders and clogs and rolling wheels.

Something in his chest felt incredibly warm, looking over its scratched face, eyes clumsily drilled into the surface by the point of a dull knife, wooden and stone limb pieces attached haphazardly to one another, all worn cloth and rag, hair made of knotted, old wool- As if you, small and faux, looking back up at him with your own soft, cracked, tiny ball eyes, had somehow found something worthy in scrawny shoulders and mottled, freckled cheeks. 

In them, there was something almost like a shine.

Admiration.

That’s what it was.

He’d nearly forgotten.

It gave him hope.

Maybe he could make something of himself.

Tonight, more than any other night, he had faith- tonight, he was going to make it, because now, more than ever, he had something to make it for.

[skeletinmoss]

The curse of the dark Phoenix

Chapter 9: The moonflower

First chapter | Previous | Next

Roman was woken up by Logan.

It was time to eat and continue their journey. Virgil was readjusting his cape and offered Roman a small smile.

Roman cocked his head and tried to feel the exact mood behind it. He hadn’t really sought out their bond before now. He’d just experienced it as it happened.

Reaching out now he could feel that Virgil was a little curious, hopeful, but still filled with worry and guilt.

Roman tried to respond with reassurance and Virgil seemed to accept that and relax somewhat.

Roman felt a little pleased with himself at managing to comfort Virgil. Which made the high mage chuckle causing him to blush at being caught.

“If you both are quite finished with… Whatever that was. We should head out,” Logan insisted.

Virgil nodded and broke the circle. Roman felt a weird shift. As if the ground under him suddenly started moving.

He looked at Virgil who smiled at him in reassurance. This was normal.

He relaxed and gathered his things to follow his friends and their guide down the stairs.

“I trust you had a good rest,” their host greeted as he laid out a delicious smelling lunch.

Virgil was hit with a wave of nostalgia and Roman carefully bumped his shoulder

They sat down, thanked their host and started eating.

"I presume we will cut into our travel time now that we have been granted use of the inn then?" Logan reasoned.

"Not really. There is a village I need to visit to stock up on moonflowers. Their healing properties are too potent to go without and I’m not holding out hope my garden held out all these years. Not to mention prepping them for use would cost more time than we'd save with the short cut," Virgil explained.

Logan and Patton flinched, but Roman... he wasn’t as affected as he was yesterday. Maybe using dark magic had mellowed him out. He’d held a Moonflower in his hand and used it’s magic to help those people and he had felt no negative effects. Maybe walking a mile in Virgil's shoes had more influence on him than he'd thought.

He had other concerns though.

"Moonflowers aren't exactly legal anymore. So you might not find what you are looking for there," he pointed out.

"Maybe. But it is worth a try at the very least.”

The group nodded and Virgil took out his message stone.

"Re, I know you only just received my last message, but I wanted to let you know we are maybe 3 days away from saving you. I'll see you soon okay?" He offered. Looking at the stone for a long moment, hopeful and worried, before putting it away with a disappointed sigh.

No one commented on it. They finished their breakfast, bid the innkeepers a good day and promised to return soon.

They mounted the horses, Virgil offering to ride this time and went on their way to make as much headway as possible before the sun rose.

Roman was pretty sure he caught Virgil casting an enchantment on the horses before lighting another magic torch. Likely reinvigorating them to compensate for their lack of proper rest.

Virgil would want them to cover as much ground during nighttime as possible of course.

Roman settled a little more comfortably behind Virgil than he would have yesterday. Trusting that he'd know if V got uncomfortable with their closeness.

Logan took the reins of his and Patton's horse. He couldn't read in the dark anyway and this way Patton got a break.

"So... how did you three end up stuck together?" Virgil wondered casually. Trying to make small talk.

Luckily for him they were all more than happy to tell the story.

"Well. We don't remember not knowing each other honestly," Patton allowed.

"Indeed my earliest memory to date is waking up in a cart full of hay in the midday sun with the both of you," Logan recalled, making his friends aw all over him.

"Patton's family owns a farm near the town where Logan and I lived. On one fateful market day Patton was brought along with his mother while Logan was out with his parents selling their crafts and I was out with mine browsing the wares.," Roman recalled.

"Roman's parents are merchants," Patton offered helpfully. Roman nodded.

"Apparently I became fast friends with Patton and the two of us basically bullied Logan to play with us too. I spent quite some time at their houses whenever my parents were out for business," he explained.

"We were quite attached to each other and all fascinated by stories of the world before the magic plague and the heroics of the arch mage," Logan added.

"And then it turned out we all had magic and we went to school together and dreamed of one day finding out what happened to the arch mage. And now we are here," Patton finished.

"Quite a story," Virgil said amused.

"I met mine at school. We had different backgrounds but we clicked right away anyway. It was a relief honestly," Virgil recalled fondly.

Roman was about to offer some comfort but then a bird flying over spooked him.

"We should get back to a main road soon..." Logan mused nervously, his mind back to the situation at hand.

"How so...?" Virgil wondered.

"The roads are less safe at night. Especially narrow and dark ones," Roman offered. Though he couldn’t feel too scared pressed against Virgil's back.

Virgil was about to press the issue but a beastly growl interrupted him... they'd been spotted.

Their horses halted, stepping in place nervously. They weren't trained for dangerous roads...

"Hush," Virgil whispered. Tracing a pattern in the air, the release of magic calming the group as a whole.

He got of their horse and slowly walked out in front of them, holding the magic torch he'd made out in front of him.

A low hissing came at them through the foliage and finally the creature stalked into view.

It was easily as large as their horses. Black scales shimmering in the moonlight like black gems. Spikes ran across the spine and tail of the long body and a strong trunk hung between large tusks.

The spines and eyes of the creature glowed with some sort of magic.

"Well you aren't happy to see us," Virgil mused.

Roman eyed the creature worriedly. He'd heard of the Forest Dragon. They were one of many reasons you should not travel the roads at night.

The creature hissed again and moved as if it was about to charge, his spikes humming with power. But V disappeared and reappeared right behind it.

It turned around fast and Virgil grabbed it by the tusks and used its momentum to swing up into its neck holding on tight as it tried to throw him off.

Virgil gritted his teeth. Roman calmed himself with Virgil's calm focus. He wasn’t afraid or worried. It would be fine...

After a few attempts to slam Virgil into a tree that made it very hard for Roman to remain calm and not distract him, Virgil finally caught a break long enough for him to lay his hand on the creature's head. Its eyes and spikes glowing with Virgil's purple magic, though there was some red shining through... huh. The beast settled and Virgil got off. Hummed to himself, made a pattern and then the creature slowly walked away.

"It's territory has been invaded by another... once we got things in order we gotta do some wild keeping... is it like this everywhere?" He asked as he got back on the horse and urged it onward.

"Um... well... if you mean massive magical creatures making the roads unsafe at night... yes..." Patton admitted.

"My parents said it wasn’t this bad when the arch mage was still around," Roman offered.

"Hm... I guess it's not easy doing the job of ten high mages by yourself. And that’s just the wildlife. Don't get why he didn’t teach anyone how to do this though..." Virgil mused.

“Was… Bull riding dragons a regular activity for the high mages back in the day?” Logan asked.

Virgil chuckled. “Not for me. I haven’t done that in a long while. Even if I had been a wild-keeper, magical creatures didn’t tend to be this hostile towards humans, let alone a high mage. They know better. Or they did…

It's not Gustav’s fault really. From the sounds of it he spent twenty years trying to do all of our jobs by himself… I wish he’d reached out to Someone for help. Even if he didn’t find anyone who was willing to ascend, a great mage or even a well practiced common mage would have been able to lighten the load… There’s a lot more to do than I thought,” Virgil mused.

“So… What you are saying is… The dragons used to be nice?” Patton asked curiously.

“Well… I wouldn’t keep one as a pet… But most magical creatures would leave humans alone at the very least, even the carnivorous ones. I was kind of surprised that those wolves attacked us yesterday. I figured they must’ve been extremely hungry. But now…” Virgil mused.

Roman saw Patton light up. “So… I could pet them?” he pressed.

Virgil looked at Patton and Roman felt his curiosity almost push into his mind. Roman could guess the question. He pressed himself into Virgil’s back and let his fond exasperation at his friend’s almost detrimental love for creatures of all kinds respond for him.

Virgil chuckled. “Remus is going to love showing you all his favorite creatures once you can keep up with him,” he concluded.

Patton seemed to have completely forgotten about the worrisome title this particular friend of Virgil’s had gained for himself. He was just beaming at the prospect of one day petting all those creatures.

Virgil shook his head and focused on the road ahead.

“Any other dangers I should be aware off,” he mused after a bit. “Just so I can prepare,” he added.

“Nocturnal great beasts and bandits are our main concern,” Logan stated. “The light will likely attract both,” he added, looking at the magical torch.

Virgil hummed in understanding. “Delays by bad guys and grumpy beasts are likely… Got it,” he nodded pensively.

After a few moments of contemplation, Virgil waved the torch and from the light sprung phantom butterflies that fluttered all around them.

"Oooh!!!" Patton breathed in awe. Giggling as one briefly landed on his nose.

"I don't understand..." Logan admitted.

“Their form depends on if you are a danger to me. Any threat will see them as a danger sign," Virgil assured him. "And if they don't scare them off they'll warn us that something is approaching."

Logan nodded, feeling reassured.

"That is such a cool spell! Can you teach me!?" Patton gushed as he made a butterfly land on his hand.

"Sure. First you'll need a light..."

And for the next hour Virgil taught Patton how to make a magic torch. It wasn’t as bright as Virgil's but he insisted it was a good first try. The next three he spent helping him separate a piece of it and give it purpose... Patton grew a bit disappointed as he struggled to hold onto an orb, never mind giving it form.

"I've had a lot of practice. You just learned to make light on a stick. Which i don’t get. You don't even Need any support for that. None of you made an: we aren't allowed to do that face. So why don't you know how to make a torch?" Virgil wondered.

"We know how to make fire... maybe it just went out of style. Frivolous magics are generally considered a waste of energy," Logan offered.

Virgil huffed.

"Was... were there any rules in your day? Other than don't curse anyone...?" Roman wondered while Patton set his orb free and watched it float away a few feet before flickering out.

"You are getting better at it Patton. You gotta let it go. Don't try to hold on so much. Set it free and trust it will do what it is meant to," Virgil instructed before turning his attention to Roman.

"Oh there was illegal stuff. There were mages with the explicit job of finding dangerous herbs and either destroying them or putting up wards to make sure no one harvested them in secret. Not that that meant they weren't used at all. There have been kings who resorted to Rose Nettles to flip a spy. Zimmer Root has been used in torture... I only know about that because Janus was always up to his neck in the intricacies of court life. He kept unsavory things from me until after the king in question ended his reign. Not because he condoned it. Magical vows of loyalty are no joke," Virgil mused.

"Those are level eights..." Roman mused.

"Thats bad right?" Virgil wondered.

"The worst," Roman nodded.

"Well. Those are. We'll have to compare notes. I wouldn’t want you to pick up something that's actually nasty just because I made you think it’s a free for all," he offered.

Roman hummed into his back. Thinking back to the Rose Nettles he'd seen in the box back at the tower... no. Other subject.

"Your magic... it's a little red," he pointed out.

Virgil chuckled. "It is now. Thats a magic bond for you," he pointed out. Roman felt himself blush. Suddenly Virgil halted and got off, handing Roman the reigns. The sun was rising.

“Patton, keep practicing to let go of your magic. If you don’t believe it can last without you it won’t. So start with a simple command. I know you can do it,” he instructed seriously before turning to them as a group. “That's it for me for now. We should stop for some breakfast anyway." He suggested casually. Roman could feel his frustration though. He didn’t like being trapped like this.

Roman didn’t get a chance to say something. A flash of purple with a soft glow of red later and they all once again were looking at Virgil's Phoenix form.

They all got off their horses. “He has a point. It’s been a while since any of us ate. The horses will appreciate the rest and some fresh grass,” Logan pointed out.

They all nodded and led the horses to a small clearing on the side of the road where they let them graze as they gathered around for some breakfast in the increasing glow of the sunrise.

“So. I suppose we should try to contact the council again? At least see if the message has been passed on,” Roman mused as he held up his hand for Virgil to eat from.

“That would be a good idea. I’m a bit worried that we haven’t heard anything at all from them after being away for two days,” Logan mused.

“… Do you think Terance told the king as well? He did ask to be kept in the know of any findings…”

Paton wondered.

Roman looked at Virgil who was pretending to be too focused on his breakfast to follow the conversation. But he could feel that he was not.

The king had fond memories of this mage… Had he been hoping they’d find a clue as to what truly happened to his old mentor?

Roman didn’t even know their king had magic. Had he turned out less talented than Virgil had thought?

“If he didn’t, the king might end up reaching out to us himself…” Roman said worriedly.

Logan nodded. “Keeping our findings a secret will be… More complicated if that happens,” he mused.

“Would that be treason?” Patton asked worriedly.

“Let’s not worry about that just yet. We’ll discuss it with Virgil when he can talk again what he wants us to do if the king asks for our progress,” Roman suggested.

“We could say that we found strong evidence that the arch mage was looking into the night flame and that Noctora had a secondary residence and we are following up on both leads as fast as we can,” Logan mused.

Roman nodded. “We’ll see…” he allowed starting on his own breakfast after Virgil indicated he was satisfied.

After they were done eating, Roman retrieved the stone and cleared his throat.

“Great Mage Roman for the Council?” he called out a bit nervous now.

“Great Mage!” the reply came at once. “Ah, Terance again. Sorry, the council is still in a meeting… They have been since you three left honestly. We aren’t supposed to interrupt… Did you get to your destination?” Terence wondered.

“No, but we are making headway on deciphering some notes. Nothing concrete yet though. Only hope for answers. To more questions than we left with actually,” Roman offered.

“Oh?” Terence wondered.

“It’s too early to make any promises. But we should be returning with interesting findings,” Roman promised.

“Good! That’s great! I’ll leave you to it then! Good luck!!!” Terance bid. And then the stone went silent.

Roman put it away, frowning. “I know it’s good for us that there are no critical ears around him. But…”

Logan nodded. “Yeah. For the council to isolate themselves at this time… It is quite odd,” he agreed.

Patton gathered their things thoughtfully. “If it was something bad. Then Terence would tell us. He's a good kid,” he insisted.

None of them could argue against that, and it did make them feel a bit better. If Terence thought for even a moment something weird was going on he’d most likely defer to them to know what to do. After the council they were highest in rank in the wizard community…

Except… Roman supposed the king counted as part of the community… But he was highest in rank anyway. Terence would likely inform them and the king both regardless. Or be horrible at trying to hide it if the king ordered him to keep his worries to himself.

They continued on their journey once they ensured their horses were fed and watered sufficiently.

Virgil flew up. Scanned a bit of the road ahead for trouble and then returned to perch on Roman's shoulder. Roman found himself having an easier time understanding him than he had the days before. Holding semi conversations with him in a way through feelings and body language

Curiosity when Virgil landed on his shoulder. "How is it looking?"

Settling more comfortably and a happy feeling.

"No troubles for a good while"

A look at his position and bemused fondness. "You alright up there?"

Fond nibbling at his ear.

"Hush I'm napping here."

Or something along those lines.

As they progressed Patton kept practicing making a little orb exist separately from him, under the occasional gentle encouraging caw of Virgil.

By the time lunch came around he managed to make it float by his side for a few minutes before it dissolved. He was a bit disappointed Virgil had just been on one of his scouting flights to find a good lunch spot and hadn't seen him do it.

Not as disappointed as Logan was with his lack of progress. He almost skipped lunch, but Virgil was having none of that.

"Ow!" Logan called out when Virgil bit at his ear.

"Why would you do that?" He demanded. Virgil nodded to the lunch that was being set up and then held Logan's gaze for a long moment. Roman didn’t think that needed a translation.

"Fine," the diviner huffed as he put the journal away and joined his friends.

"Having a rough time?" Roman wondered as he once again fed Virgil before starting his own meal.

"It's not letting me past at all. Every time I feel like I have a grasp off the enchantment it snaps back with more force than before. I didn’t have anywhere near this much trouble yesterday," he complained.

Virgil chirped something, feeling unbothered, then he hopped over to Logan and chirped in encouragement. At least it felt the way it did whenever he had tried to hype Patton up.

"What?" Logan asked, exasperated.

"I think he is telling you that this was to be expected but to keep going at it," Roman offered.

Logan looked at him skeptically and then back to Virgil, who nodded.

"How?" He asked baffled.

"I'm getting better at interpreting his feelings and stuff," Roman shrugged. He didn't mention that he suspected that their link got stronger as their actual relationship grew. And since the baseline was: complete strangers, and it was (hopefully) heading towards a romantic connection... he wasn't sure what That would mean for their link if he was right.

"Hm," logan mused and then he went back to eating. Once their horses were ready to go again they got on and resumed their respective activities to pass the time and to not think too much about the implications of the council being unreachable.

Roman tried to see how long he could feel Virgil's presence through their link and if he could feel him returning before he could see him. It seemed there was quite a radius on this connection...

He did keep an eye on the road though... at least he thought he had.

"What's wrong Roman?" Patton wondered as Roman halted them.

"Um... we are supposed to go straight ahead," he said studying the map.

“Roman-”

“I am aware that there is no road Logan. That is why I’m stopping… I’m hoping Virgil will come back and… Hmmm…” Roman could feel Virgil approaching, but before he came into view he got farther away again…

“He’s confused too… And frustrated,” Roman concluded.

Logan dug through his pockets and moments later his eyes glowed blue.

“Hm. There used to be a road here. But it must’ve gotten overgrown over the years,” Logan stated as he got of his and Patton’s horse.

“Oh… No wonder Virgil is frustrated. This means we’ll have to take a longer way to his home right?” Patton mused.

“We’ll have to wait for him to turn back human and talk about it,” Roman shrugged.

“Nonsense. With all that talk about the earth having a memory I’d think the solution is rather obvious,” Logan huffed as he dug through his pouches again, reached for a book for a moment before thinking better of it. He sat himself down on the ground to meditate for a moment.

Roman just felt Virgil approach again when a soft blue glow surrounded Logan and his magic cut through the forest, lining out a path as far as Roman could tell.

And to his amazement the entire stretch of forest on this road, seemed to step aside to make room for the forgotten pathway…

What!?

Logan got up and dusted himself off, looking satisfied with the result.

“Hm. That went surprisingly well,” he mused. Was he being serious right now?

“I’ll say. It looked pretty impressive to watch the forest part from above. What are you going to call that one?” They all looked back and saw Virgil now back in his human form as the sun had gone down while they’d been staring at the newly reformed road.

“Pardon?” Logan asked.

“Well. As far as I know, no one’s ever made a forest split to make a path like that without destroying habitats. So what are you going to call that spell, Great Wizard Mage Logan of the forgotten roads?” he pressed.

“Wait… You mean this is official? I have… I have made a new spell?” Logan gasped.

“Being a High Mage, linked to the academy for that matter… Yes I have that authority,” Virgil confirmed.

Logan was beaming and looked back at his road.

“I think I’ll call it restoration reforestation,” he mused.

Virgil chuckled. “Good one. Thank you, by the way. This saved us a very long detour,” he added before getting on his and Roman’s horse.

Logan nodded weightily at Virgil and joined Patton on their horse.

Roman let out a sigh. He was going to be insufferable about being first, wasn’t he?

“Virgil, about the notes. You seemed to have thoughts on it, but as Roman’s, admittedly impressive, translations aren’t quite fluent yet, perhaps you could elaborate?” Logan asked. His tone strangely formal but also more comfortable talking to Virgil than he had been since meeting him. Well, giving him a special recognition of his talents that hasn’t been awarded to anyone in the past half century would make him warm up to someone.

He was not quite ready to drop decorum around him completely. But that was to be expected.

Virgil was still a high mage. And far more experienced and connected than them even with being gone for fifty years. Logan had actually been rather direct and confrontational with him all things considered.

“Sure. It’s not uncommon for the first protection to be obvious and easy. It’s supposed to stroke the ego of the mage or wizard who’s trying to read the text and make them misjudge their own abilities. So either they won’t notice the second layer, or they get too frustrated with not being able to break through the second one as easy and give up. Considering this encryption was still fairly noticeable, I’d assume there is another one better hidden underneath this one. So just so you are prepared. The type of encryption will also be very different. You’d be surprised how many mages will just get stuck on trying the same thing over and over again even if it’s clear that it doesn’t work like that this time,” Virgil listed.

Logan nodded. “Yes I noticed that the method I used yesterday didn’t do much. I have been trying to get a hold of the magic but it just slips through my fingers,” he admitted.

“Have you tried starting somewhere where you know what should be underneath? From what I read it’s all covered in metaphors and embellishment, so maybe start with something where you are reasonably certain of what you’ll find underneath. The more concrete the better.

So, a name or a place or a date,” Virgil explained.

Logan nodded. “Yes… I think I see what you mean. Thank you. I will make another attempt before we settle for another rest. You will be teaching us a more advanced method of this sleeping ritual?” he asked.

Virgil quirked his brow. “Yes. But I will remind you again that you shouldn’t overdo it. Nap responsibly,” he pointed out.

Logan nodded. “Of course. Overburdening my body is not my intent. But saving seven hours even half of the days… It is quite exciting,” he insisted.

Virgil smirked, a nostalgic fondness filling him and flowing into Roman’s mind. Hm… Logan must remind him of someone.

“We’ll be at the town soon. Sooner if these beauties feel like a quick sprint…?” Virgil suggested.

“Well, we can see if they have it in them,” Logan mused.

“Or we can ask,” Virgil pointed out. Roman felt him shift behind him.

“Excuse me. Do you two feel up for a quick race to the other side of this stretch of forest, there will be food and rest and water there,” he offered. The horses neighed and shook their heads in excitement.

“They’re game,” Virgil smirked.

Patton let out a squeal. He’d always wanted to learn animal speech spells but they’d all struggled a bit with the material. Virgil had proven a good teacher though, so maybe he’d have more luck explaining it.

“Well let’s go then,” Roman smirked. And so they were off, racing down the road. Roman enjoying the way Virgil held onto his waist and pressed into his back as the world flashed them by so fast they might as well be flying…

And then they were out of the forest and moments later the road opened up into a town. This one less of a farmer community, there was a large lake nearby with a river feeding into it so Roman assumed that this town was more of a fish based economy.

Though that didn’t have to mean that there was no food or herb growing going on.

“Whoa, there. Well done. Let’s get you darlings some first class treatment alright?” Virgil smiled as he got off. He felt at home here. It made Roman smile to see him so at ease. But also worried. Time was bound to hit him again…

Virgil led them through the village with the confidence of someone who'd walked this path many times.

He brought them to an inn where he arranged for their horses to be fed and watered and given a place to rest for a few hours. He paid and asked the innkeeper if the "bosh" family still lived here.

The innkeeper seemed surprised but gave directions that amused Virgil. He thanked her and led them on.

"Still the same old house. The son should be in his sixties now. I wonder if he'd recognize me. He was a kid when I was last here..." Virgil smiled, excited.

Roman shared a look with his friends. It seemed the relief of not having to make a detour and the adrenaline of the race had Virgil feeling optimistic...

Roman was glad, but also worried that this visit wouldn't go the way Virgil was hoping for.

They approached the two story house surrounded by a flower garden. Nothing that Ro recognized as a magic honing plant though...

Virgil knocked on the door undeterred.

A young man opened the door.

"Can I help you?" The young man asked.

"Very likely. Can you tell me what the most talented herbiologist family does for a living nowadays?" He asked. The man paled and stepped outside and closed the door.

"Who are you? Did the council send you to make sure we were still "behaving"? He hissed.

"Hm. Seems I’ll have to straighten out a few of those Council members. But no. Genuinely curious. It seems a waste of the gathered knowledge of 12 generations... I suppose you would be the 15th, since Zoë went into the forest to log all she could about wild growing herbs until she could provide perfect growing conditions in her own garden for each. She practically lived in that forest for 15 years before she went from a gatherer of herbs to someone the magical community came to for her homegrown herbs." Virgil recalled. Roman should have guessed that Virgil likely knew this family since their beginning.

"... yes... I... I’m a florist, actually. My mother took the knowledge on herbs and applied it on flowers. I'm trying to add tea and kitchen herbs to our wares, but...I haven't been granted permission yet," the young man admitted.

Virgil nodded a bit saddened.

"What is all that ruckus about...?” An elderly voice came from the other side of the door before it opened.

"Nothing, grandpa, please go back inside," the young man insisted gently.

The old man took in the lot of them, and his eyes widened in shock. "Master Virgil... is that really you?" he gasped. Apparently, he recognized him.

"Hello Lucas. It is a long story and one I'm not ready to share before all the pieces are clear.

But I do find myself in need of something from the old garden. You wouldn't happen to have kept your mischief going, would you?" Virgil smirked knowingly.

The man grinned and turned, beckoning them to follow.

"When that Gustav man became arch mage, whatever that was supposed to mean, he sent guards to every herb seller in the kingdom. That was when we learned why master Janus was late to pick up his tea order. I still have it, by the way. I took good care of it.

Mother was heartbroken, and then they burned the garden down. But I saved some of it while they were telling mother and father their orders. No one was minding me. And I prepared them all the way mother taught me." They had made it to what Roman assumed had to be the old man's bedroom. He knelt down and removed an old floorboard underneath which he had stashed several boxes of likely very illegal herbs.

"Grandpa!" The grandson exclaimed in astonishment as Virgil opened them and grinned from ear to ear.

"Moonflowers! Lucas, you are a hero. All of this will be very helpful. And I will give Janus the tea. Thank you. You've done your family proud," he stated sincerely.

"Grandpa!" The young man repeated more insistently.

"Sam. When a high mage needs something, you provide it. Especially when it is one who is such a dear old friend of the family," Lucas scolded. Sam paled. "High..." he breathed.

Lucas turned to Virgil without a word. "I never believed you were truly gone, master Virgil." He insisted. "And I am not alone. You have quite a few friends you can still count on if you knock at their door," he promised. Virgil smiled and took the elderly man's hand. "I know. Take care, Lucas. If I have it my way, things will be set right soon," he promised.

There were tears in the man's eyes and he nodded. Patting his hand. "Good. Good. Now you go rest up and head home. You still have ways to go. And I didn’t manage to get hold of enough amber roots to hasten your trip. I will get started on teaching my grandson and my daughter of their heritage while you fix things. Next harvest will be a bountiful one," he mused. Virgil nodded, pulled at the old man's ear, making him laugh, put the boxes away with care and rose to look at them. "Rest and then we head straight home," he announced with tangible relief.

[bromcommie]

WIP word search 2: electric boogaloo

Many thanks to @painted-doe who posted an excellent part 2 to this tag game (go check it out wink wink) and left an open tag with the keywords guard, break, true and left. I have to admit I feel like a dog chasing its own tag tail lol but the first one was so fun I just couldn't resist. Anyway!

Guard:

Groundhog Day except it's not Groundhog Day but instead amnesiac psychological horror. (Imagine this is indented—I’m editing on mobile, and Tumblr is misbehaving.)

They take him out of the dark and into a blue room. Empty, square, clear sightlines. Single exit, no windows. He knows this story, just like he knows the story of his dream: six guards, armed. Table, gun, a man on his knees like a test he's taking for the first time but knows he'll fail. Knobby bones at the top of his spine.

So why are the shadows wrong?

Because the man is him. Because the gun is a red herring.

They beat him until he stops making noise and then some more for good measure. He doesn’t remember what he did to deserve it, and he doesn’t ask. Doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t do much of anything, really, except maybe wait.

Asking questions. That's what you forget after sitting in it for too long, he remembers now. You forget there's questions to be asked in the first place. You forget there's something outside of the hole you're sitting in.

Sometimes doing nothing is worse.

He waits for the bullet. He keeps waiting for the goddamn bullet. He doesn’t know what he is, but he thinks it might be a stupid motherfucker. The bullet’s not coming.

When he asks for it, it’s in English.

They put him back under.

Break:

Rogers is still staring at him like he’ll go up in a puff of smoke if he looks away. His hair’s grown out from the last time they’ve come face to face, falling floppy across his forehead and curling a little where he’s still damp and flushed from his shower. It suits him better, he thinks fuzzily; makes him look less sharp around the edges. Less like a stone carveout and more like a breathing thing. He doesn’t understand why that makes the loss surge even more.  Желание, his mind insists again unprompted, and it rings out through him like another shot fired. He needs to break the standstill they’ve arrived at but he feels terribly cold all of a sudden, skin gone clammy with it. The searing pain in his abdomen has been replaced by a dull tingling, spreading rapidly like wildfire to the rest of his body, the plates in his arm whirring and recalibrating wildly under his jacket trying to interpret the signal, keep up with the pounding of his heart. He’s bleeding out, he thinks distantly. Operational integrity compromised. Yeah, no fucking shit.

True:

From another unfinished episode from orpheus, in which Steve goes down memory lane and he and Bucky hit the beach. (Kind of.)

From a young age Bucky and he were both, predictably, enchanted with the damn thing. They’d put their ear to the shell's opening in turns and name all the things they could hear: Waves. Wind. Crab. Fish. Fisherman almost catching it and cursing when it got away. Bagpipes. Bagpipes? Yes, bagpipes. Drums, too. Whales. There’s no whales in Ireland, stupid. What do you know, you’ve never been. Neither have you. I guess. Maybe we can go together. People splashing. Ice cream seller. Someone kicking a ball down the boardwalk. A lot of the time, these near-mythical beaches of Ireland ended up sounding a lot like Coney Island. None of it was true, of course. The actual sounds were the product of the air’s vibration inside the curve of the shell having nowhere to escape. The stories they made up around them were a product of an unfettered imagination and an unshakeable generational nostalgia for a place they would never know. The conch itself was a product of a trinket shop in Brighton Beach, New York, which was over 3000 miles away from Kenmare, Ireland, and it was long collecting dust on a shelf before Steve’s mother bought it on a whim one day in early 1918. It had cost a whopping three dollars, which was more than she had to give for a cheap trinket as a 22-year-old with a baby on the way and fresh off the boat to boot, but it had reminded her, somehow, of home: of the flat pale serpentine of sand she would go to that never had such exotic gems to offer, of the people she’d gone with, of the sound and touch of the water. Sarah was a sensible woman, utilitarian in her logic and uncompromising in her decision-making. Between her and her husband, Joseph had gotten the majority share of designated emigree sentimentality. But the seashell reminded her of him, too, of the space that separated them and the indeterminable time that would pass before he and the many men like him could come home. So in the end sensible, pragmatic little Sarah Rogers parted with her hard-earned three dollars, and the Atlantic conch from the wrong side of the Atlantic returned home with her, meticulously packed in newspaper and stuffed to the bottom of her purse like a treasure much greater than it was. Joe Rogers, of course, never did return. He and the many men like him were buried on the wrong side of the Atlantic because of a war that, like most wars, had nothing to do with them in particular. For all of her outspoken opinions, his mother never talked about it. Like the real provenance of the conch, like the thing hiding in the folds of the silence that hangs between him and Bucky now, it was another truth easier left unsaid. He never thought her a coward for it. He’s not sure he can extend himself the same courtesy.

Left:

More from the epistolary chapter:

Look, I guess what I’m trying to say is this: I wouldn’t mind. Going back home or what used to be home means little to me now—it’s not even all the differences. Name’s the same, and some of the streets still smell like mold and piss and trash and it can get loud and alive and busy as all hell. There’s the brick and the trees and the water and that constant feeling of catching something in the corner of your eye when you walk down the street. But the buildings they’re building now are all big and shiny and new, and the people building them are all big and shiny and new. The folks we knew are all dead or forgotten or forgetting, just like Oisín’s Fianna. There’s no real home left to go back to. That’s probably why I stayed away as long as I did after that first time—it made me feel even more like a ghost. I think it makes you feel like that too except it hurts you worse, somehow. I see it every time you talk about it, don’t think I don’t. Something about the way you get all hazy around the eyes, and then go quiet on me if I can’t remember a goddamn thing about whatever it is you’re talking about. Well there’s not a lot I can fix up about the remembering part, that much I’ve figured out by now, but I’d do a hell of a lot more than retell old stories like these if it got that bone-tired look off your face. So there it is I guess. You asked what I want to do and the real, honest to God answer is: I have no idea. But if you asked, I would. If you said tomorrow Come back to Brooklyn with me I’d let myself do it and I wouldn’t mind. If you said Let’s go to Brazil or Bengal or Bulgaria, let’s see the world, I’d go. The way we’re both built now we might as well be cursed with immortality like those folks in Tir na nÓg—but I’d let myself grow old somewhere out there and live quietly and maybe help some people if I could before I kicked the bucket, and I don’t think I’d mind that at all if I got to do it with you by my side. I know. I know you won't ask. You never do, not for a single thing you could keep for yourself. But it's a nice thought, sweetheart. It really is. Maybe I can keep it for you.

I’m gonna go the same way as my predecessor and make this an open tag, so if you’re reading this—congrats! You’re tagged! Your words are gentle, burn, breath, control, or you can take the ones I did, or both. Either way, feel free to tag me!

[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."

[daughter-of-lethe]

Back to December x Nessian

It's here! You can also read this on AO3:

Short OS full of Nessian fluff, I'm preparing something smutty too...

Nesta Archeron & Cassian

Fluff

Song: Back to December (Taylor Swift)

angsty confession

Nessian - Freeform

Love

they both love eachother

Domestic Fluff

Language:English

Nesta raised her fist to the black door in the marble white corridor, an invisible tug on her wrist kept her from knocking at Cassian's door, the fear of reciving a door slammed on her face was too much, but she knew that if she didn't do this now, she would never, so Nesta took a breath, atrying to focus on everything but the furious beats of her heart, she heard them pulsating in her ears. 

Inhale.

Nothing has changed in the building, that place screamed wealth, from the ushers at the entrance doors, to the pots with the cream-colored orchids on the forniture in that place, same color taken up by the walls. The elevator with an attendant inside who had looked at her blue wool coat in disgust when she had asked him to go to the top floor. As if he had not seen her before. Prick.

Exhale.

With the rhythmic heartbeats on her hear, she read again the card near the knob of her old appartment: Cassian & Nesta Archeron

Inhale.

She had not lived here for six months.

Nothing

She had seen the lights on when she was walking around in that part of the city, and told herself "now or never, I'll go there and I'll talk to him".

 Would he let her speak? Would he listened? Nesta would have understood the chains on his door, after having broken his heart at Christmas Eve and having disappeared from the city, she would not want to see herself, if she were him.

"You're the rock against which the surf crashes, you got this." she muttered to herself the motto of the self-defense course she had devised with Emerie, Gwyn and Cassian. 

Nesta finally knocked, ready for the worst.

A wave of warm air filled with chocolate struck her as soon as the door crack open, revealing a Cassian with only gray pants, messy hair and eyes wide in shock, as if he'd just seen her from the peephole and could not believe that she was outside his door.

"Nesta" Cassian chewed with full mouth, still wrapped in stupor. 

Nesta hesitated as if struck by a vision, how was it possible that in six months he had become sexier? 

Cassian swallowed the biscuit, and Nesta's gaze followed the throat knot in its movement. Realizing the direction of her thoughts Nesta cleared her throat, staigntening her spine.

"Do you mind if I come in for a talk?" 

His gaze went to her hand, mere inches from his mouth, from the chocolate crumbs at the sides of his mouth. Quickly she hid her hand behind her back, feeling her cheek turning red. 

Old habit die hard.

Cassian moved to let her in and as she walked in his-their old living room, Nesta didn't miss the slight shake of his hand when he closed the door.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" he said with courtesy while she stood there like a rigid salt statue, not knowing what to do, she didn't expect to get there, in fact she expected him to kick her out. but... The burden of the words she wanted to scream made her muscles heavier, or was it because she had been waiting in the cold hallway?

"Water is fine" Could he ever want her again? Could they get back together? Nesta found that a negative answer would hurt more than what she thought to.

Nothing has changed, even her books were still spread on the coffe table and some of them were open. On the cupboard near the sofa there were all the framed photos of their moments togheter. A tear escaped her, and she let it run all the way down to her cheek, the nostalgia of when for the first time she felt really happy ache her heart.

There was still the last book she was reading on the small end-table with the lamp - A court of Silver Flames- open, with the white bow bookmark still on the page. Nesta let the heat of the black stoned fireplace releving the numbness of her body while she sat on the couch near the fireplace, taking off her coat.

Cassian sat down on the sofa, after having put a tray with a glass of water, and a lot of chocolate cookies on the coffe table between Nesta and him. He took a sip of his coffee, still looking at her, not knowing what to say. 

"Tell me, how's your family?" Nesta tried to start easy, she just get back in town eager to know.

Cassian did't press her to go to the point, to the motive of her visit, he never did.

"Rhys and Feyre are doing good, they are very busy parenting Nyx, Elain's buisness with the Velaris's greenhouse is going great, she has a lot of requests for weddings and elite parties" Cassian paused for a chocolate biscuit, and Nesta found herself happy to hear about her sisters.  

"We have new members at the defense club" He smiled, knowing that this news would bring her joy.

"New members?" 

"Yes, we have so much of them that I had to drag Azriel to be a trainer"

Nesta smiled, with Emerie and Gwyn she decided to open this course and Cassian was more than glad to be a coach, to be part of something that brought Nesta joy.

"I'm glad to hear this" Nesta didn't miss that he choose not to talk about himself. His guard was up like a shadow darekening his soul, she couldn't stand that look, so she focuses on the pictures instead, her gaze fixed on her favourite one: the pic that shows them kissing on the beach, with the most beautiful sunset in the background, framed by the cliffs.

The memory of that day at the beach, one of the most delightful day of her life. Cassian and her had played beach volley, -he lost- they had swam between the cliffs, Nesta had never build a sandcastle and Cassian was more than glad to put a remedy at this. With the sun kissing his tan skin, he was beautiful in a way that had taken her breath away. 

Nesta never realized how much she missed licking that tan skin, tracing the tattoos with her delicate fingers, making him shiver under her touch. She couldn't help her cheeks heated at the memory of her counting his abs, going down more and more as the Cassian's breath became more and more difficult.

Nesta remembered the cold water splashing around her, the sun burning her skin, Cassian was jumping like a baby with a candy, gesturing at a small dark cave in a hidden stretch of the beach.

"Nes, Nes, come with me" he said, extending his hand, and the smile on his face warmed her heart in a way that had nothing to do with the sun. She took his hand and was lead into the darkness.

"Where are you taking me? " she worried, their breathing and waterdrops falling rhythmically were the only thing she could hear. Cassian's grip on her hand was firm, ready to grab her if she fell, which she almost did on a too smooth rock. "Can we please go back in the light? My hair is sticking to my neck from the humidity in here."

"Please Sweetheart, have some faith in me, we're almost there" Cassian moved with agility around the rocks and the falling water, guiding her throug the most impervious spot. "Look, Nes"

He gestured to a cone of light in front of him, and when Nesta looked, the breath came out of her. Her jaw dropped. 

There was a tree with a thick trunk and broad leaves, full of pink flowers, its roots sinked in a pond that surrounded all the tree. Small drops falling from the high rocks all over the three. It reaked so much quiet that everything in her mind stopped, a sense of pace so similar to her Mind-Stilling exercises.

"See" Cassian said, waving his hands as if to show her every detail of that lovely place "There's always light at the end of the dark tunnel" Nesta smiled at him gaining that lazy smile of him she loved so much, then crossed the pond, not wanting to show him how much those words had stuck with her. A soft carpet of green moss welcomed her feet, Nesta closed her eyes and breathe, feeling connected to that pure nature. The sun's rays gently filtered through an opening in the ceiling, between the stalactites, kissing her skin.

Nesta cracked an eye open to find her date beside her, his face beautiful like this place, there was a spark in those hazel eyes. "What?"

"That look on your face, you seem so paceful, so serene" he purrs in a voice that sent electricity through her veins. He brushed his thumb along her palm "I'd do deplorable things to see that face again, Sweethart". She kissed him deeply, wishing that world-burning feeling with him never end. "Do all of them". 

So Cassian did...

Nesta hold a special place in her heart for that summer, for all the things thay share and did, but it was in the fall, after failing an important exam that Cassian had taken her there again, he tought that she could feel at peace again, that the quiet of that cave would have made her look serene again, it was when he drove her home, his tan skin kissed by the last rays of the autumn sunset. His dark long hair painted with gold,  Cassian was laughing with her, all her shadows and sadness swept away, that she realized she would gladly give up her freedom in order to stay with him forever. To feel that light forever.

"I'm sorry" Nesta said as soon as the memory fade away and reality sunk in "for what happened in December" as the words came out of her mouth, a weight lifted from her heart, Nesta clenched her fingers into fists. "I was scared and I ran away because I was convinced that I didn't deserve a good and kind person like you, well I still am-" Nesta took a sip of the water. 

Cassian made to spoke but she halted him with a hand. He wanted to make Christmas special to her that year, he managed to  to find a limited signed edition of Nesta's favorite book. That night of december he was anticipating the moment he would give her his gift, the delicious expression of surprise on her face imprinted in his heart forever.  But things didn't go that way and he found himself with his heart shattered by her spiteful words.

In the following months, he had written her, millions of times, milions of texts, without reciving any answer,  but Nesta had simply disappeared from the apartment and the city, no one knew what had happened to her, well he suspected that Emerie and Gwyn knew, but if they did not want to talk he would not force them. Until he found her in front of the door that morning.

"When I realized that I was madly in love with you, that I was truly happy for the first time in my life, I felt so scared, as soon as I saw your friends and family, the way they looked at me I knew they disliked me. I started failing in studies and the more I felt sinking the more you were kind, always telling me that everything would be fine, somehow I started thinking that I didn't deserve that kindness, that I was a failiure!"

Cassian's face remained open, his features sad but he would let her finish.

She stood up, getting closer to the fire, needing that warm "I convinced myself that if I left you you'd be happier, I was so overwhelmed by all this that I couldn't take it anymore, so I did broke your heart and mine too, and I ran away, but it turned out I can't live without you" She bit her tongue forcing the words out of her throat "I messed up everything. Your friends were right, I did not deserve you!" Nesta lowered her head, her soul lighter. 

Cassian was beside her in a fragment of a second, enveloping her in a tight hug. Her sobs broke the silence between them like glass that shatter on the floor.

"Nes" His mouth kissed the top of her head before resting his chin over it, whispering her name over and over.

Surprise and confusion muffled her tears "If I could I'd go back to that day and change it I would- I swear...swear I'd turn around and make it alright.." She began to shake with the force of her confession "I'd... turn around and change my own mind" she murmured before letting go and rest her head between his tan neck and tattoed shoulder.

"I missed you, sweetheart, come back home" Cassian held her and Nesta never felt home like that time, realizing again what she had lost, what she wanted so desperately again.

She raised her head, finding his amber gaze lined in silver. "How can you be like this? Letting me in, forgiving me so easily, it-" she forced herself to swallow her emotion "It has been months-"

"I love you Nes, I've loved you from the first moment I saw you and I never stop-I don't want to" Like it was the answer to all her questions, like it was the great solution to everything: love.

"I don't understand, I-I hurt you, I don't deserve your forgivness-"Nesta placed her hands over his chest, letting his heartbeat stabilizing under her soft touch, calming her too, while all her fears were swept away by that melody, her favourite.

"You'll never find chain on my door" He kissed her forehead before adding "I've suffered because you were suffering, and I wasn't able to get you to talk to me, now that I know I can assure you that nobody's opinion can separate me from you" his gaze softened, but remained clear to her, "My love for you is stronger than time, than space, stronger than everything-" Cassian shook his head, his voice a whisper in this throat, and Nesta moved her hands up, brushing away the tears that had begun to fall on his cheeks "None of them hate you, and if they do, what's the deal? I don't care, I love you and that's all that matters" Cassian placed another kiss on her forehead "I do not want to hear that you think yourself unworthy of love, Nes" he manages to say, this words too important to let them unspoke "You are worthy of everything good in this world. You are worthy to be loved, Nes." Nesta smiled. Something crucial settled inside her.

Everything was going to be alright.

Both their hearts beated with one voice, a symphony only they could play, Nesta kissed him and felt as if life was blossoming again after a long and harsh winter. Cassian broke the kiss and smiled to her, holding her tight. "Welcome back home, my love"