#working on chapter three of three is a magic number

[weirdcatperson1]

Fellas, is it gay to tenderly dress one another’s wounds? Is it gay to explore each other’s bodies (in a mostly medical context)? Is it gay to long to take all his pain away?

[despair-tea]

that book was pretty good, yea. glad I came back around and finished it.

the (part 1 - end) at the end is so funny - you mean after they resolved all the problems in the story, that's just the beginning? The beginning of the rest of their lives? lmao

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 2

Summary: Reader is still a little sick and staying hidden while Wanda and Natasha look after her.

TW: Sickness, asthma

Words: 2.8K

A/n: Part two!!!

It must have been a couple of hours sleep before you woke up again. Somebody was knocking on the door and for a second you panicked, still feeling awful and sleepy your mind was working though a dense fog to catch up.

When you finally managed to recall the events of earlier that morning, you felt a slight bit of relief.

“Come in.” You called, your throat scratchy and sounding like sandpaper on glass.

The door handle turned, and you prayed the girls had kept their promise to not tell the others yet.

Wanda’s face peered into the room, and she glanced around until her eyes fell on you, still holed up in bed under the sheets.

“How are you feeling?” Wanda asked as she came inside, holding a tray. She gently closed the door after her and came to sit on the bed beside you.

“A bit better than I was. But not great.” You mumbled.

“Well, if you don’t mind, Nat and I are happy to look after you until you get better. Peter’s been telling us stories about you, now he can.” She begun and you groaned. Drawing a smile from her. “All good don’t worry. He’s a good kid and it sounds like you’re a good sister. And spider-man at that.” She said with a wink, and you buried your flaming face in your hands.

Wanda carefully pried your fingers away from your blazing cheeks and smiled softly at you.

“Now, I made you some soup and Nat’s gone to steal some of Peter’s enhanced-super cold and flu medicine out of Bruce’s lab for you.” Wanda said as she set the tray down on your bedside table. “Put this under your tongue.” She said handing you a thermometer.

“I’m fine.” You said not taking from her. She raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Really. Im all good now.” You argued and she still wasn’t having it.

Using her magic wanda floated the thermometer up to hover in front of your lips. You gave her a look and opened your mouth.

She beamed at you and the thermometer positioned itself under your tongue.

“Now what?” You mumbled from behind the stick.

“Now we wait for that to beep and go from there.” Wanda said catching the drooping thermometer with her finger before it could fall from your mouth while you spoke.

After a few more seconds of Wanda fussing with the things on the tray and messaging who you assumed must be Nat on her phone, the stick beeped.

Before you had a chance to remove it yourself wanda had stolen from your lips and was closely observing the numbers on the small screen.

She hummed a low note and sent another text to Nat before placing it down on the bedside table.

“Well?” You asked trying not to pout about feeling left out.

“102.3 still a fever.” Wanda said before standing and heading to the door to open it.

Natasha stepped into the room with three bottles of medicine in her arms.

She came over and took a seat next to wanda who had sat back on the bed like before.

She handed the bottles to wanda who looked at the labels and began taking out pills from two of the bottles and measuring out a red liquid from the other.

“Oh, hell nah.” You said. “I am not drinking that.”

Nat raised an eyebrow. “You will be.” She said and you frowned, slouching down and glaring at her which only seemed to make her smirk grow larger.

Wanda finished measuring it all out and handed you the two pills and a glass of water.

“What is this?” You asked.

“Fever reducers and cold and flu meds that were made for peter.” Wanda said and you nodded and took them.

Then wanda held out the small medicine cup of red liquid.

“Nope.” You said pursing your lips. “Not happening.”

“If you don’t take this, I’ll force feed you it myself.” Wanda said and you glared at each other for a second before swiping it out of her hands.

“Fine.” You grumbled and wanda beamed at you.

“Good girl.” She said and you defiantly did not feel your stomach flip at those two words.

However, Natasha seemed to smirk to herself about something while wanda busied herself with the soup.

You took the medicine like a shot and scrunched up your nose after.

“Why is it sweet?” You asked smacking your lips together.

“Peter’s a baby when it comes to gross cough syrup, so he requested it taste like cotton candy.” Nat said and you rolled your eyes.

“Of course he did.” You mumbled.

Before you could find further reason to complain Nat plucked the cup from your hands and wanda set the tray on your lap, fussing over the pillows behind you that were keeping you propped up against the bedhead.

You eyed the tray closely. There was a bowl of thick orange soup with a blob of white sprinkle with small green herbs. Along with a soup spoon and napkin.

“Um? What kind of soup is it?” You asked.

“Pumpkin soup with sour cream and chives.” Wanda said. “It’s an old family recipe from my childhood.” She said seeming to lose her smile for a fraction of a second before it came back.

You nodded. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to go to all the effort wanda.”

She just shrugged. “Its kind of what we do around here.”

“Look after each other, she means.” Nat clarified and you nodded and brought a spoonful of soup to your lips.

It was warm and tasted amazing. You hummed in delight at the taste and Wanda beamed.

“This is really good.” You said taking another spoonful of it.

“I’m glad you like it.” Wanda said.

“So, where’s peter?” You asked, striking up conversation.

“May took him home. Nat managed to convince her that you were fine staying here with us. We are happy to have you and if you like that could be a more permanent offer depending on what the team has to say.” Wanda said and you choked on your soup.

Coughing, you felt Natasha’s strong hands pound your back to help you breathe.

Once the fit had subsided you blinked at wanda who was looking at you with concern in her eyes. You waved her off.

“I’m all good.” You begun but she handed you the glass of water anyways.

“Small sips.” She instructed and you nodded and drank some of it slowly.

“Sorry.” You apologised. “I just wasn’t expecting that.” You mumbled, cheeks warm.

“No need to apologise I probably should have waited until you weren’t eating.” Wanda said and you laughed.

“But in all seriousness… you guys want me here? Like … on the team?” You asked and Nat looked at Wanda before nodding.

“We would need to have Fury sign off. Steve and Tony will have to agree as well, but theres not denying you would be a valuable asset to the team.” Nat begun. “I’m planning on holding a meeting with the team when your up to it. But until then I want you to rest and get better. It’s important you put your best foot forward when starting off with the team.” Nat said and Wanda nodded.

“You’ll do great. The team will love you.” Wanda agreed, throwing in her own two cents to Nat’s speech.

“So, Nat how did you manage to sneak in and out of Bruce’s lab and find peters meds?” Wanda asked with the grin that Natasha returned.

As Nat launched into her story, which included a cabinet of medicine labelled spider-baby, a banner-stark debate over what atom is the best and lastly her spy skills.

By now everyone had gotten themselves comfortable on the bed. You were sat against the headboard with wanda on your left and Natasha on your right.

The king bed managed to squeeze all of you in and left ample room for more space.

As Nat continued her story you found yourself listing to one side. Your eyes drifting half shut as the exhaustion rolled over you.

Blinking harshly, you tried to stay awake until a soft hand guided your head to something soft that smelt like strawberries and vanilla.

You decided to forgo fighting sleep for any longer and left yourself drift off.

Natasha grinned at Wanda who was stroking your hair as you laid on her shoulder asleep.

It was an adorable sight and Nat may or may not have taken a photo of all three of you together with you asleep in the middle.

After the two listened to your slightly wheezy breathing and elected to let you sleep for now and to monitor your breathing, Wanda put on a sit-com on the Tv on a low volume as her and Nat settled in.

Over the course of the afternoon Wanda and Nat kept a close eye on you as you slept. Listening to the wheeze in your exhale and making sure it didn’t get worse or require your asthma inhaler.

Once or twice when Wanda checked your temperature with her hand against your forehead you nuzzled into her palm, still sleeping which warmed the witch's heart

You were adorable in her eyes and the glint in Natasha’s said she felt the same way.

At one point your powers began acting up as Wanda wanted to get up for some water and she found herself stuck to you.

She had looked lost and slightly bewildered while Nat giggled and helped her pry you off her.

“Tony says peter does the same thing when he’s sick. They can’t control it.” Nat had explained to Wanda in a hushed and slightly amused whisper so as not to wake you.

Finally at around five in the evening Wanda decided she needed to get up and cook dinner.

As she slid out of bed you began to wiggle a bit, seeking the warmth that had been there moments ago as you had been tucked into her side.

Wanda watched like a deer in headlights to see if you would wake up.

Instead, you simply rolled over and latched onto Natasha leg. Clinging to it like a baby sloth cuddling its mama.

Natasha had looked surprised almost shocked at the turn of events and Wanda hid a giggle behind her hand at Nat’s comical expression before she schooled her features.

It took a lot to surprise Natasha, but you had managed to do it within only knowing her for two days.

Wanda silently slipped out the door as Natasha looked down at you with a peaceful smile.

No longer paying attention to the Tv she was gazing down at you as she gently traced a pattern on your arm.

Despite having only known you for two days, Wanda and Natasha had found themselves almost entranced by you. From the way your nose scrunched up when you smiled to the way it twitched like a bunny before you sneezed.

Peter had kept telling them stories about you and your escapades as spider-man that had often landed him in trouble with Tony.

Wanda and Natasha had found all the walls they had spent years building over their scarred hearts to have melted in the presence of your sunny disposition, even if it was buried under a little sickness at the moment.

Wanda wanted to learn more about you, she always loved stories as a child, but you seemed like the best novel she may ever get the chance to read. And she wanted nothing more than to write the rest of your chapters together. She would be willing to bleed the ink from her own body to write your happily ever after together on the same page. To exist in a world of you and her. To add to the ecosystem that fed her soul. Because she always felt she had room for more un her heart. She had felt love like this before, once before, and it was double as she had laid in the bed with the both of you.

Natasha dreamed of finding someone that felt like home. After so long running from false families and a broken childhood, she wanted nothing more than to curl up and relax with someone that made her feel safe. Someone that made her feel the same way you do when you drink hot chocolate while watching the snow drift down on a winter wonderland. You were the home she was looking for. The way your heart touched hers, reached for her like a magnet was something she rarely felt. Something she had only ever felt once before. With another redhead who lived in the tower.

Wanda finished making dinner at around six. Before calling the team, she plated up three dishes of food and left the kitchen.

Only once she was safely clear and, in the lift, did she tell Jarvis to alert the team for dinner.

When Wanda stepped back into your room the first thing, she noticed was the concern on Natashas face.

Many may see the black widow as a cold heartless woman, yet that was just her persona in front of the cameras.

Sure, she was hard to crack open at first, but it seems she had taken a liking to you almost immediately.

Behind closed doors Natasha was quite a sweet and caring person for those she loved, showing her affection in indirect manners such as little gifts and cracking jokes at just the right time.

As wanda approached the bed she begun to realise why Nat was worried.

Your breathing which they had been monitoring had grown more wheezy.

Nat looked up from where she had been studying your face to look at wanda.

“I wasn’t sure if I should let her sleep or wake her to use her inhaler.” Nat said.

“No, you did the right thing. We have to wake her up for dinner now anyway, so we’ll have her use it now.” Wanda said with a small smile.

“We should also check her temperature and give her some more medicine.” Nat added and wanda agreed with a nod as she placed the dishes down on the desk.

Natasha gently began to rub your arm. “Y/n/n. Y/n/n wake up.” Nat said softly and after a second you batted her hand away drawing a chuckle from Wanda.

“Noooo let me sleep.” You said but Nat wasn’t having it.

You tried to pull the covers over your head but Nat held them down in place on the bed with her foot.

“Would you get up if I told you wanda made dinner?” Nat asked and wanda stifled a chuckle behind her hand as you cracked one eye open.

“Maybe.” You said and wriggled so you were sat against the headboard.

“Good. But before you get dinner its medicine time.” Nat said and you groaned in protest.

“There’s always a catch.” You grumbled and Wanda winked at you.

“For you? Always.” Wanda grinned and you gave her a half-hearted glare.

Natasha pressed your inhaler into your hand, and you simply blinked at her. “I don’t need it.” You said.

“I’m not asking again.” Nat smiled sweetly.

“Technically you didn’t ask the first time.” You said and looked at wanda for backup where she was leaning against the desk with an amused smile.

“Nope.” She said popping the p. “I can hear you wheezing from here bubs. Take it and breath like the rest of us.” She said smugly.

“Whatever.” You pouted and took the inhaler, ignoring them both and looking at a spot on the wall.

When you were done wanda patted your cheek.

“Good.” She said handing you a thermometer you took and dutifully placed under your tongue.

When it beeped Nat’s quick hands beat you to it and stole the device from your lips.

“99.8 it’s gone down.” Nat said with a smile.

“Yay.” You drawled sarcastically.

Before you could even get another word or remark in Wanda placed two tablets into your hand. “Swallow these.” She instructed and pressed a glass of water into your other hand.

You sighed and did as you were told, making both women smile at each other.

As the three of you ate you complemented Wanda’s cooking and savoured the food.

The two women chatted to you about the avengers asking any questions you had. When dinner was done, they could see you fighting to stay awake.

When do I get to meet the team?” You asked over a yawn you directed into your fist.

“Well, we’ll see how you feel in the morning and go from there.” Wanda smiled as she messed around with the pillows. “Get some sleep Y/n.” She smiled and you nodded, too tired to argue.

Settling down you were asleep before they two had left the room.

PART 3

[violetasteracademic]

What do you think about the passive language used in azriel’s bonus chapter? Azriel says he found himself entering the foyer right before elain comes and then he finds himself in the library at 7.

Oooooh my darling anon. You have me giddy and kicking my feet with excitement to talk about this! Once again, a simple anon ask has spiraled into a deep crack theory post. This is a long one!

I love this bonus chapter so much. The prose are some of her loveliest work and the treasure trove of details is simply masterful. And I'm so excited about where I think the story is headed.

I definitely understand what you mean regarding passive language: there's a sense of everything happening without intention. In fact- he is explicitly acting against his "every intention." but the devil is in the details. As you said, the bell chime for the seven pm service. The exact same bell chime from when Nesta attended a service and was lulled into non-con scrying session with ancient songs. Ones Clotho just happened upon below level seven of the library one day in a random stack of books. Azriel giving away Elain's necklace to G/wyn or any other priestess who would like it after meaning to return it to the store. There's so much to get into but for the sake of keeping this post a reasonable length (which I still failed at anyway), I am going to hone in on what is, in my opinion, the most important line in the entire G/wyn section of the bonus chapter:

For whatever reason.

One of the most difficult parts about writing is that it is so easy to get hung up on a catch phrase or a certain way of describing things. Whether it is through our subconscious minds, or more intentional developmental edits, there are phrases that invoke something very specific and it is hard not to re-use them. I struggle with this. SJM has definitely come under fire for this as well.

For whatever reason has been used 13 times in the entirety of ACOTAR including the bonus chapter (it takes .5 seconds to type it into the search bar on Kindle and it displays the number count up top, this is not as unhinged as it sounds 🫣) and two of those times were regarding G/wyn, three were regarding the Priestesses, and every single time it was used to express that there is hidden information at play- be in magic, motivations, or machinations- something out of character, or something we do not yet understand. It essentially means that there is a reason, but it is not being revealed.

All of Azriel's passive actions and the little parallels between Azriel's experience with G/wyn and Nesta's experiences in the book (hearing G/wyn's song calling to her, her power rumbling in response to G/wyn, the glow, so on and so forth) are also connected through this line:

Azriel:

Nesta:

If we trust that for whatever reason does in fact indicate that there is a reason, there is an oft overlooked detail that also connects Nesta and Azriel's experience on page: G/wyn's breath.

In Nesta's for whatever reason moment, G/wyn is guiding her through the Valkyrie breathing technique. Nesta continues to focus on G/wyn's breath, which leads her to feeling this rush of thinking about how amazing G/wyn is, how she is good at everything, and somehow nothing about it irks the easily irked Nesta. G/wyn's breath settles her and leaves her content to be there:

Contented. Calm. Distant. Stilled. Resting. These are all of the sensations listening to G/wyn's breath creates. Now let's look at Azriel:

Azriel's shadows hear the silent music in G/wyn's breath. Suddenly, Azriel and his shadows are calm. Content. Stilled. Resting.

Even more interesting? Both of these moments occur after deeply painful moments with Elain. For Nesta, this takes place after Elain calls her out for focusing on what Elain's trauma did to her. Azriel is obviously wrecked from being ordered away from Elain. Then they both find themselves with G/wyn, there is a pointed experience of them interacting with her breath, and they are suddenly distantly removed from the situation that was ailing them mentally. Settled, calmed and feeling abnormally giddy over thoughts of G/wyn and how amazing she is and how happy they are to make her happy- for whatever reason.

Now, if you are still with me, we are REALLY going to get into some crack theory.

I do not believe that it is a coincidence that in a book where Nesta and Cassian were the two POV's, only Nesta and Azriel experienced G/wyn's lulling effects. We are dipping into major HoFaS spoilers here, so stop now if you don't want to move ahead!

In HoFaS, we learned the Cauldron has been corrupted by the Asteri. They pooled their power into it so that it would work their will. I think there is likely a push and pull for power within the Cauldron itself between the dark corruption of the Asteri and the original power of fate and creation by the Mother. Both entities exist within the Cauldron, if you will. We also learn that Truth-Teller was made in the Cauldron as a weapon against the Asteri. But we also learn that Azriel himself was a weapon crafted by the Asteri:

I believe this is in reference to Shadowsingers, but either way, there is a suggestion that whoever- what ever- Azriel is, it was crafted by the Asteri.

I also believe that whatever Nesta stole from the Cauldron was not the power that the Mother had gifted to Elain when it recognized her, perhaps the Archeron bloodline (let's not forget the Bone Carver's words about salvation laying dormant in a human bloodline), but the dark corruption of the Asteri.

No longer just a tool of creation, but a deadly tool of destruction. Nesta's power of death. And Silene's parents turned the horrors it produced to their advantage. I assume this is in reference to Truth-Teller, the knife that can unmake things which was created the Starborn bloodline to defeat the Asteri:

A tool not of creation, but of destruction. Unmaking.

I absolutely love Azriel and Nesta's friendship, but I also think there is something deeper going on here. I think Nesta and Azriel both experience the weight of the darkness of the Asteri's powers. Yes, they both have trauma. But they also are deeply unsettled people who fight incredibly hard against the darkness that weighs on them.

I believe both Nesta and Azriel carry the literal corruption of the Asteri, and it is something only they, and not the rest of their family, has to fight. They are doing it. And they also lean on each other in a very deep and beautiful way.

UGH. I love them, Your Honor.

I also believe that Nesta gave back her corrupted powers at the end of ACOSF (hopefully). And the mother interrupted her giving back all of her power, leaving only what the Mother intended remaining. Nesta seems much calmer and more settled in HoFaS, and while we can attribute it to her emotional growth, I think again it is extremely important that Nesta and Azriel, the only two characters to have been affected by G/wyn's luring, were also the main characters in the crossover where the corruption of the Cauldron is revealed.

Okay- but what does this have to do with G/wyn? I know, I know, G/wyn's lightsinger theory is the most accepted theory. And it might be true. But I also don't think it is everything. There is more going on here, and something that specifically leaves Nesta and Azriel susceptible. Nesta was also welcomed to the library to work with the priestesses in ACOSF for whatever reason.

I have made a few posts now about the Priestesses as the likely next mini villains in the upcoming ACOTAR book in alliance with Vallahan. You can read those here and here if you are interested. But I believe the invoking stones of the priestesses might come into play. In this case, what is occurring isn't specific to G/wyn, and I don't believe that she is the only one that could have this affect on Azriel and Nesta. Or maybe it's both, her lightsinger abilities allow her to lure while the invoking stones allow her to lull. Either way, there is a wider picture of the Priestesses and the secret powers they hold involved.

G/wyn believes that the stones are filled with the power of the Mother, and can only be used to protect and not harm. However, Ianthe also used her invoking stone (that was my interpretation, anyways) to lull guards to sleep. Feyre also questions if the invoking stones contain power far deadlier. Lucien confirms that the power the priestesses hold can be utterly lethal if they choose it.

If the invoking stones are also Cauldron Made, then they too carry both life and death. Creation and destruction. Protection and harm. I truly believe that G/wyn is completely ignorant to her own power, what the stones are capable of, and what the intentions of some of the corrupt Priestesses are. To destroy the rule of the High Lord's and regain their power:

The feminist in me is like yes queens, get off your knees and take your power back. But in this context, I think we can safely assume this is not a good thing, as we know many of the High Priestesses are also corrupted and do not have good intentions.

I think there is a lot of evidence that the like calls to like occurring very specifically between Azriel, Nesta, and G/wyn, might have less to do with the (very fair and again possibly correct) theory that G/wyn is a light singer and much more to do with the warped power of the Asteri. I think it is most likely Gwyn is not a villain, nor has any impure intention in her heart. But she does believe in her religion, in the Priestesses, and that they solely enact the power of the Mother for good. That leaves her in a position to be easily manipulated by the "promise" of greater good. The sole fact that she doesn't even think the invoking stone or power of the priestesses is capable of harming when we know otherwise says a lot about her indoctrination.

I also don't even know if G/wyn will specifically play a role in what I assume will be the future luring and lulling of Azriel, or if she was just a deeper representation of the power the priestesses hold. Either is definitely possible.

So yes, Azriel was acting out of character, a bit dazed and passive and almost in a trance. Just as he and Nesta had both experienced around G/wyn before.

For whatever reason.

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man 11

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Steve talks shit. Paige and Eddie talk business.

5.2k words

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10)

Working for Family Video came with many upsides, especially when you worked with people who you also enjoyed seeing outside of the store. Rentals were already dirt cheap with your employee discount, and near expired candy and popcorn never quite made it into the dumpster out back and somehow magically appeared in your bag instead at the end of your shift. 

You always liked to think that Family Video was sponsoring your bi-monthly movie nights with Steve and Robin. The Harrington household was always the meeting spot, as he was the only one who had a tv and VCR in his room. Well, you did as well now after Keith had tossed out an old player, saying it was broken. You’d brought it home to tinker with and found that some kid had stuck gum in the tape slot. It had taken you a week to clean and another month to figure out how to hook everything back up, but it was yours. Steve still had the nicer home and tv though, and more importantly his parents bought brand name snacks. 

The three of you were in Steve’s living room, the movie playing on the screen long forgotten as the three of you caught up with each other. Robin was usually the barometer for if a movie was worth watching, she and Steve might have had very different tastes, but Steve would usually get sucked up into whatever movie she chose. 

“So is his band any good?” Robin asked, dumping a bag of m&ms into her bowl of popcorn. 

“I think so.” you shrugged, cracking open a drink. “If anything, they’re good enough to be scouted twice.”

“By the same person.” Steve pointed out. “You know, his ex.” 

You had brought the news of Eddie’s meet up with Paige to your friends with mixed results. Robin seemed indifferent, but that’s because most of the time she didn’t have the same interest in talking about boys. Steve, however, seemed less than thrilled about this idea. 

“Yes, Steve, his ex. As in, not together anymore.” you sighed, wishing you felt as confident as you sounded. “Whatever happened between them sounded like it blew up for both of them.”

“But she still wants to have lunch with him!” Steve said. 

“Yes, to talk about the band!” you shot back. “And it’s lunch. Didn’t you tell me that dinner is a date and lunch is just two people hanging out?” 

“Since when does my advice apply to you or Eddie?”

“Since Paige isn’t me or Eddie, so your dating advice might actually apply here.” you snapped and took a breath. “Sorry. This is all new to me. I’m really not sure how I’m supposed to feel right now. It’s like every time things start to go well with me and Eddie, something happens. Paige, Chris, you-”

“Hey-”

“I like him a lot.” You leaned back against the couch, grabbing the popcorn bowl from Robin. “When I’m with him, I get that same feeling that I do when I’m hanging out with you two or when I’m at the show every month. I don’t feel like I’m hiding myself when he’s around.”

“There are other weirdos and freaks around.” Steve pointed out. “If I had known there were that many of you around, I would have agreed to go to the show earlier to help you get phone numbers.” 

“Yeah, but have you seen the way she looks when she’s talking about Eddie?” Robin hopped into the conversation. “I don’t think anyone even existed to her that night.”

It was true, no one other than your friends and (unfortunately) Chris had truly registered to you at the show. Yeah, you’d noticed the few cast members but they weren’t the metal head with the long hair and crop top that had held your hand all night.

“Oh shit, did I tell you guys that we ran into Chris?!” You asked suddenly, changing the subject. 

“Wait, that guy you and Eddie kept talking shit about?” Steve turned to look at you, grabbing a handful of popcorn and getting crumbs on the couch.

“Yeah!” you said. “He actually works for the show now, I guess? He said he’s been there for a while and he’s seen me at the show before. It was so fucking weird.”

“Is that the guy who said you were too normal to play with Hellfire?” Robin asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, and he ran Hellfire into the ground until Eddie took over. And now he’s doing tech for the show. Also, he was Rocky in the shadow cast.”

“The guy in the metallic shorts?!” Steve gawked. 

“Columbia did say that the cast changed for the night.” Robin said, and you gave her a quizzical look, remembering the lipstick mark you’d seen on her jaw that night. “She came by and talked to us before the show!” 

“She couldn’t resist my charm.” Steve gave you a smile that you were sure worked with someone like Nancy Wheeler, or Tammy Thompson. You just shook your head and laughed. 

“Right, anyway. Chris came and talked to us after the show and he told me auditions are gonna be open for the cast. He gave me his card, and told me that it was invite only.” you explained.

“You’ve been talking about wanting to be part of that since we started working together.” Steve said. 

“Yeah, I guess I get a shot to do something, too.” 

“Chris turned you down for Hellfire, and now is letting you audition?” Robin asked. 

“We aren’t in school anymore.” you pointed out. “I know how it sounds, but none of us are the same people we were back then. I’m not the same person I was two years ago, none of us are.”

“I hate it when you’re right, you know.” 

“I’m just saying that if I can give you the benefit of the doubt and make friends with you then maybe Chris isn’t as big of a prick as he was back then. I might not have even given Eddie a chance, either.” You picked out a few m&ms from the popcorn bucket, getting your fingers covered with butter and colored candy coating. “I mean, at the end of the day, isn't that what this whole deal was about? Shaking off old habits and trying to step outside of contentment?”

“I thought your deal was so that you can stop having Steve check you out every time you wanted to rent porn.” Robin snickered. 

“I thought we were just trying to get dates.” Steve looked confused and you gave him a pat on the head. It always amused you how his hair could spring back into place like that.

“That too.” you said. 

“So, you’re really okay with Eddie going to see his ex?” Steve said, forcing you back into that topic. 

”I’m not thrilled about it.” You finally admitted. “But we only went on one date and this might help his band. Besides, if we start... Whatever this is without some sort of trust then is it even worth starting?”

“So you trust him?” 

“I trust you and Dustin, who vouched for him. He was honest enough to tell me that it’s his ex who wants to talk about his band. What happens next is up to him.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Steve relented and his eyes wandered back to the tv. 

You didn’t, but you were tired of letting other people tell you what you should or shouldn’t do. 

Ever since Benny’s shut down, there wasn’t really any good place to meet up with someone for lunch in town. Every time he had seen Paige before, it had either been at the Hideout, or his van. Neither of which was really a good place to talk about Corroded Coffin. 

It was Paige’s idea to meet at the small hole-in-the-wall pub that was just out of Eddie’s comfort zone in terms of price. Eddie arrived on Saturday afternoon, earlier than he meant to with his nerves. He leaned against the wall outside of the pub, watched the cars go by as he waited for her. 

She didn’t leave him waiting for long, and ten minutes before their agreed upon time, Paige was standing in front of him for the first time in over two years. She hadn’t grown an inch, but her wavy dark hair had, and now barely brushed her shoulders. In the daylight, Eddie could see a faint tint of red that he never noticed before. Other than two or three times, he realized that he and Paige had never spent a lot of time together when the sun was out. Paige’s freckles were as prominent as ever. 

To Eddie’s surprise, she looked happy to see him. 

“Hi, Eddie.” she said, and to his relief she didn’t go in for a hug. 

“Hi, Paige.” He responded and reached over to open the door to the pub for her. 

The two didn’t say anything until they were sitting at a dimly lit booth in the corner, where Paige broke the ice. 

“Before we get into any business talk, I need you to be honest with me.” She started, sitting up straight and looking him in the eyes. “If you care about your future in music, and your band, you need to tell me what happened. Tell me how you ended up in jail two days before the most important moment in either of our careers.” 

Eddie had expected this, and the past week had been spent trying to find a way to spin the story so that he didn’t look like the biggest asshole on the planet. In the end, he decided that he should be honest with her. Paige wanted real, and he would give that to her, tarnish and all.

Someone came by and took their drink orders, giving Eddie a moment to collect his thoughts. 

“I did something stupid.” He started. 

“Obviously.” She gave him a wry smile. 

“Moving to California isn’t cheap.” He watched the tone of his voice, searching for that piece of him that made Hellfire and Corroded Coffin listen to him. Being a dungeon master for so long had given him a way of speaking that could draw someone in when he tried, and right now he knew he needed to try and convince Paige that Corroded Coffin deserved a second chance. “I needed a way to pay for everything that came with moving across country. My dad... he-” Eddie’s voice wavered for a brief moment. “He had an idea to make some quick cash for the two of us. It wasn’t smart, and it really wasn’t legal.”

“Jesus,” Paige sighed, looking at him with a deep frown. “I would have helped you, Eddie. I was already willing to let you live with me for free until we got you set up. I told you that you didn’t have to be alone in this.” 

Asking for and accepting help wasn’t something that Eddie was ever good at. He’d been hyper-independent since he was a child, when his dad would disappear for long stretches of time, even after his mom died. Asking for help after (or especially because) Paige had put in so much money and effort for him already, wasn’t something that he could bring himself to do. 

“I know.” Eddie said. “I had this stupid idea that if I didn’t make the effort on my own, then I didn’t deserve the change. So I did something stupid, really fucking stupid, and it cost me everything.”

“Mark told me that you shot a cop.” Paige said, and before Eddie could speak up, she continued. “I didn’t believe him. When I wired the money, I was able to get an idea of what happened. You saved that guys life.” 

“I couldn’t let him just bleed out on my yard.” Eddie said. “I couldn’t- it wouldn’t be right to run away like that.” 

“You really caused a lot of trouble, you know that?” 

“I know.” Eddie took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I did a lot of stupid shit I shouldn’t have, and I paid the price. It cost me more than just the audition.”

There was a time between getting the news about his audition with WR Records and the heist that Eddie flew. He had everything he had ever wanted; he got the girl, had his dad back, he had a future, which was something he never thought he’d have. For a few beautiful weeks, he had spiraled up, up, and up. 

In the end though, what goes up must come down. Eddie had reached for something that would never be meant for someone with the last name ‘Munson’. He had crashed back down to earth, to the reality of who he was and it had cost him everything. His dad, his childhood house, his audition, Paige, and even Ronnie for a short time. 

For the next two years, Eddie swore to never even think about reaching for the sun again. 

“Thank you for being honest with me.” Paige said. “I still think you’re an asshole.”

“I was an asshole.” He didn’t even try to fight it. “The biggest one in Hawkins.”

Even with her declaration, Paige still had a look on her face that was the ghost of an expression she had in the passenger side of his van on the night that she had given him the news that WR Records had liked him. 

“Things went downhill for me when you bailed on the audition.” Paige said, and Eddie swallowed, his mouth feeling dry. He had never known what had happened with her after their fight over the phone. “I got in a lot of trouble because of you. Davey doesn’t like anyone, but he liked you. When I couldn’t get you out there, it really screwed up any trust I had with my job.”

She stopped talking for a moment as a waiter came by and dropped off their food. Eddie couldn’t bring himself to touch the overpriced sandwich in front of him yet. His mouth felt dry and he reached for his water instead. 

“I was stuck in a dead end job, where any talent I tried to bring to the label was shot down without being given a chance. I was being paid to do nothing, except babysit the studio and paperwork.  I got demoted, and I was already at the bottom of the totem pole.” Paige never looked away from Eddie, her gaze unflinching and sharp. “I stopped liking music.”

Guilt washed over Eddie, and there was something in him that screamed at him to run away to avoid this. Being the reason someone stopped liking music? He knew he’d fucked up but that... that was something deeper than just missing an audition. 

“They didn’t have the means to really fire me, I hadn’t done anything wrong.” she continued. “They moved me to a smaller label under the WR name. That label was where acts they had given up on went to die.”

“Which label?” Eddie managed to ask, despite how dry his mouth felt. Even the water wasn’t helping. 

“Left Turn Media.” Paige said. 

During those weeks when things had been good between the two of them, Paige had mentioned the label once or twice. It was considered a death sentence to be put on that label, and working for them was WR’s way to get people to quit without firing them. The two had listened to a few cassettes from the label. The bands weren’t bad, and that was what stuck out to Eddie. The music wasn’t bad, but it was clear that the production was lacking and half-assed. Paige said that the music would be sent out to small radio stations to be played in the middle of the night. 

“Shit.” Eddie said. 

“Yeah, shit.” Paige let out a laugh. “But if there’s one thing I am, it’s stubborn. I threw myself into my work. I’ve been spending the last two years breaking down and completely reassembling Left Turn, and now I’m in charge of it.”

“You.” His eyes went wide as he stared at her. “You’re in charge of Left Turn Media.”

“It’s amazing what you can do when you’re pissed and have something to prove.” Paige shrugged. “I had a lot of time to think about my relationship with music in the last few years. I realized if I wanted to bring something real to the music scene of L.A. I was going to have to do it myself.”

Her dark lips curled up into a smile. “I should almost thank you for fucking up. Because you bailed, I was put in charge of a sinking ship. I patched it up with my own time and money and now Left Turn has become the label for all misfit bands who don’t fit any shiny polished label. I proved to myself and everyone around me that I belong in this industry.”

“I-” Eddie wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond to that. “You’re welcome...?”

“We’re expanding the label outside of California.” She continued. “I’m in charge so I’m trying to bring good music to my hometown. It’s still not the biggest label, and we can’t offer half of what the bigger labels would, but it’s something.”

“And what are you offering?” Eddie felt dizzy, the more she talked. His words were careful, as if asking the wrong question could end in another blow up between the two of them. 

“What I’m offering is another chance for Corroded Coffin to be signed.” Paige’s arms crossed over her chest. “Left Turn is still finding its footing outside of L.A., so we’re flexible. I’m here to work with local radio and college stations around Indiana to get them to play the few bands we’ve signed so far. Who we have are okay, but they aren’t...”

“Real?” 

“Eddie you have something, as much as I never wanted to admit it again after what happened between us. There’s something about the way that you play that I haven’t been able to find since. I could do this without you, but I think that this is the real sink or swim moment. WR Records goes on with or without you, but I think what you have is what could turn Left Turn around.” Page took a deep breath. “If Corroded Coffin wants another shot, this would be it. If you still have that do-or-die energy when you play, I could offer you a real deal to put together an album. I could get you on the radio.”

Eddie listened to her words, taking in what she was offering. Yes, it wouldn’t be the easy street that WR would have been able to offer, but it would be something. And this time, it wouldn’t just be him auditioning, but Corroded Coffin was wanted this time. 

“You’re serious.” Eddie said, his heart rate picking up. 

“As serious as shooting a cop.” 

“Jesus.” Eddie couldn’t stop himself from letting out a laugh. He ran his fingers through his hair, messing up his fringe as he replayed everything that Paige had just told him in his mind. She wanted him to audition again. This was a chance that he wasn’t sure could be passed up. 

“Some of the band is still in high school.” He said, feeling reality settle like a stone in his stomach. He didn’t mention that his name was on that roster. 

“Like I said, we’re flexible.” Paige said. “I still need you all to audition again, and even then it’s going to take me a few months to set anything up here for the band. I want you all to audition with me and a few others from the label before the end of the year. If everything goes according to plan, Left Turn might have the recording studio ready by next June.” 

“You’re setting up your own recording studio?” Eddie perked up, the anxiety and guilt that he had originally felt was now shifting into something new. He found himself relaxing enough to eat his overpriced sandwich. 

“Yes. We need something that’s a step above Live Mike Studios in Lafayette. We have the building picked out and are already gutting it for Left Turn.” 

“You’ve really thought of everything, haven’t you?” Eddie smiled at her. 

“I have.” Paige agreed. “But I learned not to put all my eggs into one basket. This industry has taught me to have a plan A, B C, and D.” She let out a long sigh. “I made it to plan L before and I would prefer not to do that again.” 

“What was plan L?” 

“If I go into the whole story, I’ll need a strong drink. It involved a guitar player with his head up his ass thinking he was going to be the next Gene Simmons.” Paige groaned. 

“Gene Simmons doesn’t play guitar.” Eddie pointed out. Paige gave him a thousand yard stare, which said everything he needed to know. “Ok. Gotcha.” 

“I’m hoping to get everything set up with minimal surprises.” She concluded. “Get with your band. I’m going to be in town for the rest of the year setting things up.”

Eddie nodded. “So... why Indiana?” he asked. “You were in California. Why come back here to set this up?”

“Like I said, I want to bring good music to my hometown. Once everything’s done, I’ll be able to move back and forth from California to here.”

“And Corroded Coffin?”

“Will stay in Indiana.” She said firmly. “I can’t turn you into the Rock Hero you could have been two years ago, but I can try and make you a Hometown Hero.”

Another story. Paige had always been good at spinning stories. Once upon a time, Eddie had been a barback turned frontman turned Rock Hero. Now he’d be barback turned frontman turned Hometown Hero. That part felt less believable than before. 

That’s how Paige saw him, but how did he see himself? Barback turned front man turned drug thief turned drug dealer turned uber senior? None of that was a story worth selling. And what about the rest of his band? Would Gareth, Jeff, or Zack want to be part of this? Ronnie hadn’t, she just wanted to play just to play. Jeff had been excited about this when the opportunity was first presented, but would he still want the chance? Gareth was the youngest and still had over a year of school left. 

One thing at a time. 

“I’ll talk to the guys next practice.” Eddie said. 

“Good. Are you still playing at the Hideout?” Paige asked. 

Eddie froze for a second, as he imagined Paige and you in the same space to watch him play. He imagined your excited face, and the way you would cheer for them after every song, the excitement that radiated off of you after every set. Even earlier this week, when you’d dropped by to watch them, knowing that Eddie was going to see Paige, you’d still shown the same enthusiasm as before. 

He’d thrown you another pick. You’d handed it back to him at the end of the night, telling him that he could toss it at you again next week. 

“You look like someone who loses your picks the second they are out of your sight.”

You’d been right. The only one he could consistently find was the one he’d turned into a necklace. His dad’s picks had been packed away, shoved under his bed where he wouldn’t see them. Eddie didn’t use those picks anymore. 

A few weeks ago, he couldn’t stop comparing you to Paige, but now he couldn’t stop thinking about how different you two were. 

“Yeah, we play on Tuesdays now.” Eddie said. “People stopped complaining enough that Bev decided to give us a steady slot.”

“Good to know.” Paige said. She wasn’t confirming or denying if she’d show up, but that look in her eyes said that he could expect to see her again soon. 

After all, The Hideout was the only place in twenty miles of Hawkins that offered any live music. 

For the rest of the meal, the two caught up with each other. It didn’t feel as weird as Eddie would have expected, but it was nice. He let Paige do most of the talking, letting her tell him about her work in the industry, he didn’t need her knowing more than she needed to if he wanted to have this shot. Would she want to sign a bunch of high schoolers? He hadn’t even told Paige the first time that he had dropped out when Higgins blackmailed him. 

That was alright for now though. Paige talking meant that he didn’t have to and he added to the conversation by asking plenty of questions about her work. Hearing about the music industry from her end was something that he had a genuine interest in, anyway. 

Paige told him about how she had been given a copy of Iron’s Maiden’s Live After Death by Davey. She was even willing to make Eddie a copy of it. It wasn’t the video, but he wasn’t about to turn down audio of one of his favorite bands that wasn’t even released in the US. 

When the check came, Paige didn’t even blink as she paid the tab and the two of them made their way outside again. It was still pretty early in the afternoon, and the chill of the late autumn air contrasted the bright blue sky.

Trying to still be somewhat of a gentleman, Eddie walked Paige to her car as she recounted the tale of how she had been on the flight from Indianapolis to Los Angeles where Izzy Stradlin had been arrested for pissing in front of everyone.

Paige stopped with her hand on the door to her car before turning around to face Eddie before getting in. 

“I don’t hate you, you know.” she said. “I was mad for a really long time at what you did. But I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Eddie.”

Eddie didn’t feel like he deserved the forgiveness she was offering him. Being told that he was anything other than some satanic cult leader or freak wasn’t something he’d ever get used to.  

“Paige I...” He wasn’t sure what to say. 

She had that look in her eyes, the same look she’d had after she’d given him the news about his original audition. What are you waiting for? Paige was moving closer, freckles like constellations on her skin and the moon in her eyes eclipsed by her eyelids. 

Eddie's hand fell on Paige’s shoulder before her lips could get any closer to his. “I can’t.” he said. 

Her face went through a few emotions. Surprise, disappointment, and settling on embarrassment. 

“Shit. Sorry.” Paige said, shaking her head. 

“No it’s.. It’s fine.” Eddie said, and he could have sworn that Paige looked just as confused as he did. “I don’t think it’s a great idea to do.... That.” 

Eddie hadn’t once entertained the idea of Paige and him together again. It didn’t feel right. He wouldn’t lie and say that he didn’t find her attractive, but it wasn’t the same feeling he got that first night in the Hideout. As a teen, he’d been thrilled that a pretty girl was paying any attention to him at all, and was willing to do anything and be anything she wanted. 

Any relationship with Paige was business, plain and simple. She wanted a Rock Hero to help her get up the ladder, Eddie wanted to make it with his band. Sex had just been a bonus in their past relationship. Paige knew her stuff with music and the industry, but she didn’t rant about Ozzy and his bats, or have a real interest in D&D or put herself out there the same way that you- 

“I’m seeing someone.” He blurted out before Paige could say anything else. 

Paige looked surprised for a moment and shook her head and laughed. “Right. That... I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I did that.” she admitted. “I guess I got swept up in this stupid fantasy about being a power couple. We’re a bad idea.” 

“I’m sorry.” Eddie said, not sure what else could be said in this situation. 

“Don’t be. You’re right, ‘us’ is a bad idea.” she ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s a good thing my offer isn’t dependent on if we’re sleeping together or not.”

“I know you bought me lunch, are giving my band a second chance, and forgave me for one of the biggest fuck ups of my life, but I don’t put out that easy.” Eddie smiled at her, trying to lighten the mood.

Paige offered her hand and Eddie took it. “Business only then.” she said. “Talk to your band and call me to set up the audition.” 

Eddie watched Paige’s car drive off, and suddenly felt a lot lighter. He blasted his music and drove home, nearly laughing like a maniac. Today had been a wild roller coaster of emotions, and he couldn’t wait until the next band practice to bring the news to his band. 

At home, he grabbed his guitar and immediately began sorting through Corroded Coffin’s small pile of original songs, and the covers that they were able to perform the best. Eddie was off, lost in his own world as he wrote, re-wrote, and re-worked the set list. 

What would you think? Would you be excited for him? If this worked, he was going to make sure to get you concert tickets. Okay, he was getting ahead of himself. Maybe you could at least come for the audition as moral support. His band liked you, so maybe they wouldn’t mind. 

Eddie didn’t come back down to Earth until the phone rang that evening after Wayne went to work. He almost missed the call because of how deep he was into perfecting the riff that had eluded him for the past few months, determined now more than ever to get it down. 

He reached the phone on the last possible ring. “Hello?”

“Hey... Eddie?” Your voice cracked over the phone, and that feeling of excitement came crashing down. “Sorry I... Can you come pick me up? I’m at home.” 

You were crying. He could hear it in the way your voice strained and cracked. He was already reaching for his keys. 

“I’ll be right there.”  

a/n: As I stated before, I do like to try and keep everything as time accurate as possible. However things happen, and sometimes things are too good not to use. The Izzy Stradlin incident did not happen until 1989, but the fact that it was on a flight from Indianapolis to LA was too good to pass up. I also would like to notate that I did make a mistake when it came to the Ozzy Bat Incident. It was not a 17 year old girl, it was a 17 year old boy and the bat was already dead. Chalk that inaccuracy up to the tabloids of the time, and the lack of Google. No, this will not be addressed in the future of the fic unless it’s funny. 

Dividers By: @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288 @sheneedsrocknroll92

[buriedpentacles]

How to Discern Sign from Coincidence

I've noticed that in both on and offline witchy and pagan communities a lot of people's first question relating to deity work and communication is "how do I tell if something is a sign" so I wanted to share my perspective and how I vet something as being a sign or message from my deity or not. This is a pretty simplified 'checklist', but it's important to note that signs are not my main form of communication with my deity which is why I'm quite 'conservative' in identification of them!

How many times? Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence but three times may be a sign. This is a general rule I use for signs like angel numbers, specific animals or imagery or something similiar. Though it doesn't always apply - for example, if I see five crows on a nearby roof I don't see it as a sign because that is a very common sight where I live. But if I see three deer near my house in one day, that IS pretty mystical.

How unusual is it? If something 'makes sense' or can be easily explained by mundane reasons it is less likely to be a sign, and this can work in "levels". E.g. if I see a spider in the corner of my room, that's pretty unlikely to be a sign because that's just what spiders do. A spider running across a specific chapter in my book or tarot guide is still explainable but I'd probably check if it was meant to be a sign. And a sparrowhawk landing on my windowsill would almost definitely be a sign because they rarely come into the area where I live.

How does it make me feel? Sometimes I get a gut feeling that something is a sign or a message, even if it isn't unusual or has only happened once. This can easily be mistaken for 'wanting' something to be a sign so still vet and double check but the differentation does with time, experience and a growing relationship with a deity. Often, signs are clear that they are signs, because you're deity wants you to see them and so your intuition often drags your attention to the, and tells you that they're special somehow.

How do I confirm? I almost always vet signs and messages, typically it's just a quick tarot reading to confirm that something was a sign and what it might mean or represent. Often I'll also meditate or consider the sign to see what feelings or knowledge it inspires in me as well. Sometimes I don't need confirmation, I just know. But that has come with time and I would always check early in my relationship to my Mother Nature.

Important notes If something is just coincidence, that's okay, and it's still cool! So what if that crow wasn't a sign from a deity, you still got to see a crow! And so what if that fortune cookie message wasn't actually a message from your spirit guides, it can still be an inspiring and needed message! There is magic in the mundane and that's wonderful.

If you're new to paganism or witchcraft and want to work with a deity I will warn you to be wary and do a lot of research. Don't just assume: "I saw crows the other day, Odin must be reaching out to me." or "I found a bunch of rose petals on the floor so it must be aphrodite." Signs can mean a great number of things and if you truly believe it is a deity, vet and research source materials for that deity and pantheon. Ask for confirmation and take things slowly, it is very easy to trick yourself into seeing something you want to see.

Signs vary between practitioners and it's important to understand and respect that. What might mean one thing to you, means something entirely different to someone else - even if you're devoted to the same deity. While I always recommend checking original religious sources (if possible) for traditional omens and meanings, they will probably be quite unique to you!!

Tell me about some signs you've recieved from your deity or spirit guides (or whoever)! Mine tend to be animals or plants, which is definitely on brand!

[a-very-sneaky-mimic]

Successfully finished my map of the airship from my fic!

"If I Too Am Forgotten, Will You Look For Me In The Stars?"

(Was originally gonna be three decks but the last one is just empty cargo space so its not worth the effort lol)

(As I've said before, quite a few sprites are just edited/taken from the game, but any stuff that you don't recognize from the game is made by me.)

I've also annotated some neat details/notes! ^^

Annotations and non annotated version below the keep reading thingy.

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

2. Star windows! ✨The light from them is faintly visible on the floor of the dandelion room!

1. The control console for the airship! It has a comically oversized compass, and reasonably sized barometer and a wind-speed-cup-spinny-thingy- you know what i mean.

Anyways it also has two little magic-crystal-wishcraft-orb-thingys that the pilot somehow uses to control the ship- idk ill figure that out later, they've got little stars in em though cause i think it looks neat!

3. Dandelion room! I think in my fic I may have described patterns all over the room- but imma retcon that to just the circle thingy depicted here, it only glows when the ship is actively being flown- so technically its impossible for the dandelion to be visible while the symbols are glowing but idk it looks cooler this way.

4. Hey! See those constellations?! Those are the irl zodiac constellations! all of them are as accurate as I could make them, with correct number of bright pixels for stars and lines in as close to true lines as i could make them

5. So all the stuff in the house is sorta low detail cause its frozen in time, so I got to be pretty creative coming up with details for the door!, it's got stars everywhere and even the writing along the top!

6. Odile has blocked her window on purpose, she doesn't need any more reminders how high in the sky they are :P

7. Mira has her ~bonding papers~ she needs distractions with the new emergency haha

8. Bonbon and Nils rooms! They're pretty barren, as they're both a bit mentally lost atm :(

But Bon has some of the food & spice supplies stored in theirs and Nils has Bon's sleeping bag in her room due to nightmares that may or may not occur in the futureee.

9. Loop aint gonna make their bed.

B. The stairway to the cargo bay! As I said before, i didn't map it as its basically just alot of empty space and crates & barrels etc.

Why is it "A" now instead of "10"??? Because the annotation circles I made didn't have room for two digits in this font! And I wasn't about to start over with bigger circles :D

A. Sif and Isa's room is arranged for optimal cuddle configuration.

C. Somebody's keeping an eye on the fam! (/◕ヮ◕)/

D. How does a stove work on a wooden airship???? IDK magic probably

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

Now at long last I can start writing the next chapter 🙃

[bamthefox]

So I have this idea for a tile rpg rougelike deltarune game idea

It’s would work like this with that tile battle style where you have to plan where you characters are.

Everyone would be on a grid where you can move them,

Tp would still work the same where you have to be very close to an attack.

(It’s would kinda be a mix of Mario and luigi and Mario and rabbids for the best way to put it)

There would be like three classes fighter, support(also works as just the magic class), defense. With a rock paper scissor type thing (fighter -> support -> defense-> fighter)

Every chapter would just have three characters representing their chapters

Ch 1: king defender rouxls support and jevil attacker

Ch2 queen defender tasque manger attack and spamton support

The bosses would be fucked up and evil versions of kris,Susie,Noelle and berdly maybe more when more lighters go into the darkworld

Ralsei and lancer run a shop where you buy stuff to help you

Also

Spamton support

The number one rated salesmen 1997 and

Jevil attacker

A crazed man who can do anything

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Stornello

Chapter Thirty Three

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader

Other characters: Pamela, Annie, Kevin, Cesar, Donna, Jody, Patience, Nancy, Bobby, Charlie, Pamela, Bela, and Ellen at the end

Word Count: 4367

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, still unbeta'd, Spa day with the girls (gn), Bela apologizes and tells Trouble her and Dean are over, Trouble makes her own phone calls, Dean makes a promise

Series Masterlist

Special shoutout to @lastactiontricia for helping me with the Bela phone call.

You sighed and sank further into the massage bed. The room was filled with the soft buzz of instrumental music and aromatherapy. Your masseuse focused on the tightened muscles from your neck into your shoulders, which were so stiff you had to hold back a groan as she released the tension. On the bed beside you, Annie hummed blissfully with her own massage.

It was the morning after the band dinner that Sam organized and almost half of that same group had signed up for a spa day. Jody, Donna, Patience and Bobby were getting pedicures, while you, Annie, Pamela and Cesar were in the massage room. Nancy, Kevin, and Charlie were getting their manicures, but were ready in robes for their turn with the absolute magic that the masseuses held in their hands.

You heard Cesar muttering in Spanish under his breath as his masseuse attacked his lower back, who just chuckled and continued with his ministrations. Cesar and the rest of the crew did a lot of hauling of equipment, besides regular security stints, it made sense his back needed attention. You closed your eyes and sank back into the haze of relief, a small bubble of time to ignore those around you and just breathe. 

You were pressed into putty, pliable and soft. It was all so decadent, you almost fell asleep. 

The events of the past week hung like sleeping bats in the cave of your mind, twitching and threatening to open up and remind you of each moment of chaos and emotional discord. You tried to remain creeping along the floor, so as not to touch on any one moment for too long and force yourself to face it all at once. It wasn’t all bad, but it was certainly a lot.

Dean caught fleeing Bela’s place.

The tour started on such a high note.

The girls in the pit who stared you and Bela down.

Dean disappearing.

Bela and Crowley trying to out-British one another.

Another amazing show.

Always the paps.

People saw Bela chewing you out, even if it was the smallest blip on the band’s socials. And at this point you couldn’t say her annoyance was entirely unfounded, though she really did go over the top.

The video conference and all the talk about numbers, when you just wanted everyone to survive this unscathed. 

Missing the zoo and all the fun outings because you had busy work to do, things to coordinate.

Dean and Gibson during dinner last night, two peas in a pod.

You exhaled and reminded yourself you had another two days before you had anywhere to be. You could just be.

A faint beeping sound brought you back to the present, the session was over. You blinked your eyes and saw Annie slipping back into her robe as the masseuse held up a towel to give her privacy. You stretched and rolled out your wrists before you slowly got vertical. You smiled shyly at your masseuse as you got your robe back on and thanked her. You bent down and grabbed your bag, waiting until you were the last of the guests in the room, you handed her an envelope. 

“This is for all the massages for this group today. Thank you all so much.”

She graciously accepted it, promising to take care of her staff. You nodded and shrugged your bag over your shoulder and headed off to the pedicure station. Charlie and Kevin raced into the room, fighting for your masseuse, if you were guessing. But they were stopped at the door, having to wait for everything to be sanitized first. 

You laughed to yourself as you headed out, tossing a blithe,

“have fun” over your shoulder.

An hour later, you were tossing back the last of your mimosa as your nail artist was placing the strip of foam between each of your toes. Bela would have loved this place, you thought, aching over the tension that had someone settled between you two. You put the thought away and reached down for another envelope to be dispersed to the nail techs.

Strategically shuffling into the next room, you found yourself at the back of the line as everyone found chairs for the facial treatments. Cesar had convinced Bobby to stick around and have his beard done, while Kevin joined the girls with the full face package. He’d even brought a headband to keep his shaggy hair out of the way. Then you remembered he was the virtuoso only child of a dedicated single mother and guessed this wasn’t his first rodeo with good skin care.

You carefully maneuvered into one of the remaining empty chairs and set your bag down, while still being cautious with your fresh gel nails.

“I love that color on you, Trouble!” Donna exclaimed, dragging you into a show and tell with everyone within reach.

She had chosen blood red with points, while Jody had a simple French manicure and Kevin had gone with his natural nails trimmed short, but in a deep teal. The technicians moved around the room, ensuring each station was stocked before one started explaining the process to the room as a whole. They began with warm towels and you actually dozed off after that, letting them do what they needed to clean up your face the best they could.

The buzz of conversation around you came in and out as you let yourself be pampered.

“Sam seems to be quite the draw for the fans,” Jody teased.

“Can’t keep a shirt on that boy to save his life,” Annie agreed, but it sounded like something you’ve heard out of Bobby’s mouth in the past, which made you smile.

“Well, I ain’t complaining,” Jody tacked on, making everyone laugh.

Your tech smoothed a cool cream over your cheeks and slowly moved outward in circles. It was soothing after all the other processes your skin had gone through. 

“Alright, we’re going to adjust your seats slightly so we can get the redlights in place. Please remember to keep your glasses on until after your light has been turned off at the end of the allotted time,” the woman who explained everything at the beginning of treatment said somewhere off towards your right.

You once again opened your eyes and glanced around. Pamela smirked at you before she slid her protective lenses over her eyes. 

“She’s so going home with those,” you said to no one in particular.

“We always end the day a few pairs short, it’s no problem,” your tech reassured you in a low tone. 

“Well, that’s something at least,” you replied as you took the pair she offered you, and slid them on.

The red light treatment wasn’t hot, exactly. You had anticipated something like the flashbacks of tanning beds in high school and college, but it wasn’t anything that intense. Your skin did feel different afterwards, though, and you gratefully took the moisturizer offered to you. Everyone slowly went back to the changing rooms and got back into their street clothes. Before you left, you made sure to leave an envelope for the workers again and took the all of the complimentary gift bags to hand out to everyone at lunch. 

“Lookin’ good, kiddo,” Bobby said to you once you made your way back into the hotel lobby, armful of skin products in tow.

You blushed. “Thanks, you clean up pretty well yourself.”

He just rolled his eyes and rubbed his knuckles over his freshly trimmed and conditioned beard. “We good for lunch?”

You checked your watch as everyone started to huddle closer. “We’ve got twelve minutes until our reservation.”

“Nice timing there,” Annie pointed out.

“It’s a gift,” you said, actually taking the compliment. Because you were surprised they had gotten everyone through the spa in time.

“You think they have more of those mimosas with lunch?” Kevin asked.

“I bet we could convince them to bring us a pitcher or two,” you teased.

“Sounds like a plan to me!” Nancy giggled.

You and Patience shared a look, and she nodded telling you her drummer was already tipsy. It was sweet. And it was early enough she could crash with a nap and still be good to go out later. You handed out all of the goodie bags while you waited to approach the hostess at the hotel restaurant where you’d made the reservation. 

Everyone was excited, but Donna was ecstatic with all of her new creams and serums. While Cesar stealthily took Bobby’s bag to bring back to Jesse. You felt like Santa Claus, giving all the good girls and boys a bright start to the tour. Obviously, there’d be time to spoil Dean, Sam, Lee, Victor, Benny and Jesse, too. Vegas was right around the corner afterall.

It was definitely one of the perks of the job, even if it wasn’t your money covering it all, it was theirs. Just coordinating it all and seeing it all go off without a hitch made you feel like what you did was important, that you were more than a social media secretary, or a mother hen.

At two minutes til, you bowed out of the conversation over nighttime routines on the road and smiled at the hostess. “Reservation for twelve under Fromnian?”

“Of course, right this way,”

Using one of Dean’s usual aliases made you feel like you were doing some secret sneaky thing. It also made you feel powerful. You waved the group over and headed into the most delicious meal you’d had in weeks.

Well, that wasn’t ominous or anything.

Plus, you were still pretty annoyed with Bela. Even after listening to her voicemail twice, the idea of talking to her set you on edge. The look you knew she’d be giving you, even over the phone gave you that panicked, cornered feeling. It was as if you were about to get into trouble, like a kid caught sneaking in late for curfew. Within ten minutes your phone rang. So on a deep inhale you put  your best counterargument face on.

“Hey, what’s up?” You plopped down onto the desk chair in your hotel room.

“She speaks!”

“Belaaaaa, look. I know I have been avoiding you. But I am still kinda pissed at you, so whatever is going on with Dean and you or whatever—- just tell me so I can work on putting out whatever fire he started this time.”

“Y/N, it’s not Dean’s fault, well— at least not totally, but first I need to tell you something.”

You sighed, but what you really wanted to do was growl. She was already on thin fucking ice. “What now?”

“I’ve maybe, sort of, been sleeping with him?”

Your eyes threatened to roll entirely back into your skull. “Yeah, kinda picked up on that.”

“Really?! You haven’t said anything, so— I guess I thought you either didn’t know or didn’t care and, well, I feel like I should be apologizing. But you don’t sound upset— exactly.”

You huffed and geared yourself up to unleash but nothing you wanted to say was coming out in full sentences. Nothing made any fucking sense. “Look— I just— it really wasn’t my business. Plus it kind of added to the whole story—- but wait. Why are you apologizing now? To me?”

“Well, technically I haven’t yet. But I’m going to start with that one. Then go on from there. I’m sorry I slept with Dean. One, I don’t think it was worth it if it hurt you. And two, I have a growing suspicion he only did it because he couldn’t do it with somebody else. So, yay for being the understudy.”

You dropped your forehead into the palm of your hand and stared blankly at your unlit laptop screen. What the hell was she talking about?!

“Why— why would you sleeping with Dean hurt me? I set you up—- I set this whole thing up!” You almost laughed, it was so ridiculous. If you weren’t okay with it, you wouldn’t have survived the last few weeks. If it were any of your business at all, that is.

“Y/N, seriously? You can tell me. I know I get a little caught up in the chaos of life, that I prioritize things other people don’t, but you are my dearest friend. If I hurt you or maybe invaded your territory, I am sorry. I really had no idea. Because, frankly, you’ve never said anything of the sort.”

Oh no.

“Bela— it’s not like that. There’s nothing— Dean is a friend. I’m not like that with him. Like, at all.”

Bela breathed over the line with the sound of music coming in and out of focus, maybe from a passing car. “Did our— was it upsetting to you? I’m not saying you’re jealous or that you’re pining over him or anything. But did it piss you off? Because that is what I’m apologizing for. I’m not telling you what you feel or how to react; I’m just sorry if you were hurt or upset at all.”

“You’re really breaking this down— I guess I was a little— annoyed? Kind of surprised you gave him the time of day, honestly.”

“Okay! Good. I mean, not good, but — progress, yeah?”

You sat back and kicked up your ankle over your good knee, pulling it towards you for something to hold on to. “Okay, now that that’s out of the way—- why are you calling? I don’t think Dean would have said that that was so important that I answer your call.”

Bela chuckled and murmured. “Probably not.”

You could hear the hum of an engine and the sounds of  passing traffic. “I thought of you, earlier, the other band and some of our team went to the attached spa at the hotel today. The mimosas were amazing and I am, well— I was as relaxed as pulled taffy.”

“Sounds divine.”

You squeezed your calf and squinted your eyes closed, as if you were hiding. “And I realized I kind of blew you off on the show on Saturday. It was a stupidly stressful day and up until the end of SPSs set, I didn’t know if Dean was going to show! Then, he was fine and finally on stage and Crowley was being Crowley—- All I could do was to shut down and go through the motions.”

“Where did he even go? I thought something was off, not only you, everyone, mind you.”

“Home, apparently. I think he was working out?”

“Oh, christ,” Bela groaned. “Please don’t let him become one of those gym hounds, I beg of you!”

“Don’t worry, that falls to Sam. He is in charge of Dean’s workout routine. And he’s oddly good at it, but I think it’s one of those things he can control that he got out of rehab.”

“That’s oddly sweet.”

“They’re ridiculous, but they really do help each other be better—- Anyway, I am sorry too. I shouldn’t have left you to the wolves in VIP while I just watched the show or set up autographs.”

Bela tutted. “I really need to work on my timing, don’t I?”

“Bela?” You warned.

“Well, you’re gonna hate me, if you didn’t already after that fiasco of a suggestion Saturday night. But, Dean and I are ending it. He wants to see other people, or person, really. And I don’t want to keep him locked up.”

“And there’s no way Bobby or I could change your minds?” The words were out of your mouth before you realized what she said. Dean wanted somebody else, a specific someone. Your stomach dropped as she batted away your attempt at negotiation.

“Not really. I think the poor man deserves to have a proper go of it. See if he’s up to snuff for real.”

“You know who it is.”

“Yes, you’d know too, if you weren’t playing masochist roulette.”

You groaned and looked up at the ceiling, the light from the tops of the curtains was dancing in the late afternoon sun. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fine. Be dense. Are you already emailing their manager tattling on me?”

You did not pout, but you did glare at your laptop again. “Nooooo, but I probably should be. But it’s a weekend off. We have Vegas next and who knows when we’ll have this much down time after that.”

“I’m not in any rush for the announcement. Take all the time you need and I’ll post whatever you think sounds best, for everyone, obviously. Amicable split and all.”

“So generous of you,” you muttered, because she always took your snark as a compliment.

“I try.”

“Look, about Saturday, well there was a lot going on and you really caught me off guard.”

The wind changed and Bela suddenly felt closer, she must have put her top up on her car. “I know, that’s why I’ve been messaging you. I didn’t mean to be a bitch about Jo, I just wanted you to lighten up—- to stop worrying so much and doing all the grunt work.”

“It’s a group effort— it’s a family business thing. We’re a pretty small support staff.”

“Y/N, I’ve met everybody and I believe you. I still know you worry too much.”

“Part of the job, images are fragile things.”

“So are you.”

“I’m really not.”

“No, I know, I’m not—- you’re one of the strongest people I know. Truly. You also need to take care of yourself. Not just Dean and the boys in the band.”

You hummed. “I had a spa day, didn’t I?”

“How many pictures did you take of everybody else to post later? Who covered the treatments? The tips? Who made the reservations?”

You bit your bottom lip because you had nothing to say to that.

“Y/N, you need to let yourself be happy. To want things. FOR YOU. If you want to keep running yourself ragged at a job that requires half the effort you put forth, so be it, follow your calling. But life is too short, you know that better than anybody. And if you want something, or someone, you need to start by admitting it to yourself.”

You blinked against the heat of shame-filled tears. 

“I can’t— he’s not something I can want— let alone have.”

“Oh, darling, please! You can have the fucking world. You just have to believe it first.”

You exhaled and tried to keep from outright crying. “You know I’m still pissed, right?”

Your bottom lip was not solid matter.

“I should hope so! I just topped off your rage tank for a good month. The doghouse seems like the place for a spring getaway anyway.”

You actually laughed at her blithe acknowledgement.

“Good, at least we’re on the same page.”

“Almost. You still need to own up to a few things, but I’m going to give you some space— I think you might need to forget I exist for a few more days.”

“You can’t hide from me, Talbot, I know where you live.” You teased, knowing she was still apologizing. 

“Likewise, but I also know that I’ll be hearing from you when you’re ready. Now, go enjoy the rest of your Friday night off. Wash down that snag in your afternoon with a good meal and even better cocktails, yeah?”

You blew out a breath, still a little ragged, but agreed, “sounds good to me! Talk to you later.”

“Ta!”

You stopped yourself from calling Dean about four times as you paced around your hotel room, strategizing how to break the news, first to the band, then to corporate and finally to the fans and the world at large.

You needed a drink.

Or ten.

You thought about why Dean had convinced Bela to end it. And who it could be. He had always seemed very comfortable around Donna. It made sense, she was smokin’ and the tour was just starting up. It gave him time to make it stick. You had to make sure he waited to make anything public until you got your statements out and the fans had time to grieve.

Which meant that you needed to call him anyway.

You sighed, you really didn’t want to have this conversation, but that was the story of your life today, apparently.

He picked up on the second ring. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you snipped, flopping onto your hotel bed and kicking your flats off.

“On a scale of one to ten, how pissed are you?”

“Twelve.”

“Oof! Well, that’s all on me— what’s the plan?”

“I don’t know yet. But whoever it is that is worth all this, please don’t start anything right away? Or at least not anything where you could get caught, okay? I need some time to get the statements right and out, maybe a few weeks. Depending on what the label says.”

“If you say so— but I really want to just say screw it already. They’re never satisfied anyway.”

“We have a follow up call in a month. As long as the preorder sales stay strong and the tour continues to have good numbers, I doubt they’d bat an eye. Bottom line is where they care the most.”

“Okay, well, that’s doable.”

“You’re sure?”

“Trouble, I swear, I won’t do anything stupid before you give me the green light. This was your baby and I kind of dive-bombed it. I’ll do whatever you need me to.”

“Okay, well, keep it in your pants for now.”

Dean chuckled. “Aye, aye sir.”

You rolled onto your stomach and propped yourself on your elbow. “If we hit up some lounges in Vegas are you gonna be able to resist?”

“Aren’t you going to be out with us?”

“Most likely, I owe you boys a nice night out since we had spa day here.”

“Well, then, no problem.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’ll behave, promise.”

You stared across your hotel room and thought about the last time you saw Dean at a strip joint. He was like a king on a throne, but something dark was lurking underneath whenever you had caught his eye.

You exhaled and decided to (foolishly) trust him. “Okay, well, I’ll let you know when Bobby and I have something solid written out. Bela’s giving me full reign for her statement too. So, that way it will be easier to spin it as a mutual split.”

“Yeah, she’s good like that.”

“Yeah, I know. I knew her first, remember?”

Dean huffed. “How could I forget?”

You let him stew a little bit, however petty it was.

“You get to tell the band, though. Gotta keep it airtight, but they should know first.”

“Yeah— doubt anybody really bought it anyway.”

You thought back to the conversation you had with Benny and way back when you had lunch with Cas. “I thought you guys did a good job. Never even saw any outright disbelief online and fans are speculative as hell usually.”

“A picture's worth a thousand words—- and we gave them plenty of ‘em.”

“True.”

“You disappointed in me? That I couldn’t make it longer?”

His question caught you completely off guard. “Considering you never wanted to do it in the first place— I’d say you did a pretty stellar job faking the relationship part while still fucking around with her.”

Dean hissed. “Touche.”

“I’m not disappointed, Dean. It wasn’t like either of you had any other options.”

“Yeah, but she's your best friend.” He sounded so small.

“She is. That’s why I trusted her with it at all. I trusted you both. And it did its job. Now I just gotta do the PR bullshit and let you live your best life.”

“I don’t— none of us deserve you. I’m dead serious, Trouble. You’re too good for us.”

You heaved yourself up and sat back up, straightening your rumpled clothes. “Look, it’s my job. Just don’t do anything to make it worse in the meantime, okay?”

“Don’t worry, I heard you the first time. And I’m sorry I am putting this all on you after everything you’ve already done to cover my ass.”

You were over the seriousness and just went with the first thing that popped into your mind. “Well, it’s a pretty small ass, doesn’t take much.”

Dean chuckled, but his voice definitely dropped, “so you’ve been lookin’.”

And suddenly you wanted to take back the joke, because Bela’s knowing voice is echoing around your head. ‘Oh, darling, please! You can have the fucking world. You just have to believe it first.’

“Well, you weren’t being too subtle with all your post-run stretching the other day. Sam either!” you tried to keep it light, playful, not outright flirtatious.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll give you that one.”

“You going out tonight?”

“Yeah, but just for dinner, I’m taking Gibby so Lee and Pam can have a night off. Though he’s only with us for a few more days—- gonna miss the little man.”

“Yeah, and you are his favorite person, so it won’t be too hard to convince him to ditch his folks for the night.”

“He’s a pretty cool kid himself, can’t complain.”

“Alright, well, I’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good. Thanks again.”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t forget you promised.”

“On it.”

“Bye.”

“Yeah, later.”

You hung up. And dropped back onto your bed as a puddle of mush across the sheets. God fucking damnit, you were so screwed. Dean wanted somebody for real and you were going to have to watch it happen in real time. You weren’t sure if it was better or worse than the past six months with Bela, but what it was was real. And that in itself was more frightening.

You just had to get through the fallout the announcement would eventually bring. 

Suddenly you knew who you had to talk to be able to tackle this whole thing head on. Determined, you sat back up and tucked your legs underneath each other, criss cross applesauce, and scrolled through your contacts.

“Harvelle’s Roadhouse, serving food until ten p.m. How can I help you?”

“Hey, Ellen— got a minute?”

“Trouble? For you darlin’, I’ve got five.”

You smiled and let yourself come clean.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

@beautiful-places-blog

@n-o-p-e-never

@spxideyver

Chapter 34: Animato

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 3

Eminem x Reader (Y/N) fanfiction

Summary : Marshall and Y/N decide to celebrate a sobriety milestone but bad news get in the way.

Tag : -

A few weeks went by and you slowly started to adapt to what you could call your new normal. You were getting used to living with your friends and started working on your doctoral dissertation again, while going to meetings and making it to therapy. Every so often, you’d be invited to hang out in the studio with Talia and the boys and spend a couple of hours with them. However, most of your time was devoted to uni work so you didn’t hang out with them too much. In fact, today would be the first day you’d see them in a couple of weeks. If you were honest, you were particularly excited to see Marshall. The two of you had crossed path a number of times since you went on that drive and you always had a good time when you were with him. At that point, it was safe to say you had developed a harmless crush on him. Nothing major, but you did particularly enjoy looking at him and you were always happy to hug him hello and goodbye. You knew he would never be interested in you, so you simply decided to enjoy the sensation of feeling good in his presence.

The night after the two of you went on a drive, Talia had been grilling you with questions, but there was not much to say. The two of you had not talked about it but you were pretty sure she knew about your crush. She knew you too well anyway. Whatever, it was harmless, although she did make sure to always have you sit next to Marshall whenever she had the chance.

That day, you were happy for three reasons : first, it was Friday, which meant you would enjoy the weekend and some much needed rest from uni. Secondly, you were celebrating two months being sober. It hadn’t been without its trials, but you had made it so far and were extremely proud. Finally, you got to see Marshall. You were all smiles when you pushed the door to the studio and greeted everyone.

- Y/N, we have been waiting for you like you have no idea ! Jamal said.

- Oh really ? You asked in disbelief. Is that because you produce your best work whenever I’m around ? You asked with a smirk.

- Kind of, he answered jokingly. But it’s mostly because Marshall has been in a bad mood all day, which usually doesn’t happen when you’re around. So whatever it is, please work your magic and make our life bearable again, I beg of you, he added as he fell to his knees for good measure, in a very dramatic and theatrical way.

- Speaking of the devil, where is he ?

No one had time to answer your question, as Marshall came in the room, looking unnerved and slamming the door behind him. You looked at Talia, whose look confirmed that he was indeed in a bad mood. Everyone was silent.

- Now can we please give it a couple more tries and get that right ? Marshall asked exasperated.

- We’ve been working on that song for hours and nothing good came out, someone pointed out. How about we circle back to that later ?

- No, Marshall said coldly. We can get that thing to sound right and we will.

- Stubborn much ? Jamal asked jokingly before Marshall shot him a death glare.

You didn’t know if Marshall had seen you there or not but you weren’t sure as to whether or not greeting him was a good idea. You just sat next to Talia and stared at your phone as you were trying to finish reading a paper. You didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings before you heard Marshall slamming his head against the mixing desk.

- Fuck. He said. We’re already behind on schedule. This album is going to be my last, I swear. If it ever even gets done.

- You already said that for the last one, Paul pointed out jokingly.

- Yeah well you know what ? I’m soon to turn fifty-two. I’m too old for that shit anyways, Marshall replied.

- Come on, dude. We have our good luck charm here today, Jamal said pointing at you.

You smiled shyly at Marshall, who seemed to ease a little.

- Hey there, he said before getting up to properly greet you. Sorry I didn’t say hi before. That was rude.

- It’s ok, you said as you hugged him. So… last album before you become an accountant ? You know, you could ask my dad for pointers, you said jokingly.

Marshall laughed and kissed your cheek.

- Ok, maybe I was being a bit dramatic and maybe it won’t be the last one, he said with a laugh.

Jamal looked at the two of you in disbelief, yet smiling.

- So he’s been an ass all day, and now that Y/N has been here for ten minutes, he’s laughing ?

Everyone laughed and Marshall raised his middle finger.

- Now that you’re in a better mood, can we PLEASE take a cigarette break ? Someone asked.

- Fine, Marshall said rolling his eyes, as most people left the room and he went back to his seat, scribbling in this notebook.

After a moment of silence, you decided to talk.

- I have News, you said.

- Good or bad ? He asked without looking up.

- Well, you tell me, you said with a smile, proudly showing your newly-earned sobriety chip.

He greeted you with a smile and pulled you in for a hug.

- I’m proud of you, he said before kissing you on the forehead, making you blush. We should celebrate.

- Really ? How so ?

- Dinner ? He offered.

- That sounds good, you said. How about you come tomorrow night ? I’ll cook !

- I’m intrigued, he said. So you’re beautiful, smart AND you can cook ?

- I would also showcase my dancing abilities, but you’d be too jealous, you joked, trying to distract yourself from the fact that he called you beautiful.

The two of you shared a laugh but were interrupted by people coming back from their break. They resumed the work and, thankfully for everyone, Marshall ended up being pleased by one of the versions they recorded.

The next day, you decided to go shopping for your celebration dinner. You decided to cook some French recipe. « Whatever you want, unless it’s frogs or snails » Talia had told you. A while ago, you may or may not have tried to get your friends to taste snails, which ended up in a complete disaster. You were excited to cook and were in a good mood when you arrived to the store. You quickly grabbed the items you needed but the joy left your body when you reached the register and saw Simon - your Simon - kissing a beautiful woman as they were grabbing a few items. He seemed happy as ever. You could not help but stare at them and wonder for how long they’d been together. Something about their demeanour made it feel like they’d been a couple for ages. As you lowered your gaze, in hope they wouldn’t notice you, Simon called your name.

- Y/N ?

- Simon. Hi, you said.

- You look… well, he pointed out.

- I am, thank you, you replied. How are you ?

- Good. Kind of busy.

- I figured, you couldn’t help but say, quickly staring at the beautiful lady he was with.

- I meant with work.

- Oh. Right. Well I’d love to chat but I have to go. Have a good one.

You paid and quickly left the store. For some reason, you felt humiliated, even though Simon had every right to date whoever he liked. After all, you hadn’t been together for nearly three months. Plus, Simon was the very définition of perfection : handsome, polite, successful. Looking back, it was kind of obvious he wouldn’t have trouble finding someone else. And it wasn’t exactly like he made a promise to wait for you either.

Even though you tried your best not to cry on the way home, you sniffled as you walked through the door.

- Baby, are you alright ? Talia asked.

- I saw Simon, today. Kissing someone.

As soon as the words left your lips, tears started to stream down your cheeks.

- Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry ! She said before giving you a much needed hug.

- I know it’s silly but some part of me thought that… I’d get better and we’d get back together and… and…

- I know. I thought you guys were endgame too, she said sheepishly.

She held you for a while as you sobbed.

- Let’s focus on the positive, honey ! Let’s celebrate those two months of you getting better. I’ll help you cook, she offered.

- Do you mind if we reschedule ? You asked. I don’t feel like celebrating. Or cooking. Or eating, for that matter.

- Are you sure, baby ? Marshall should be here soon. I promise we’ll have a good night, just the four of us, she tried.

- Yeah… can you call him and tell him I’m sorry ? I think I should go to my room and rest for a bit.

You apologised once again and left the items on the kitchen counter before going to your room. You changed into some sweatpants and a tank top and laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It dawned on you that Simon and you were truly over. Even though you tried thinking of something else, you couldn’t help but seeing him with that girl. She was truly beautiful. Probably more deserving of him, too. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing from your eyes. It felt like a fountain. Deep down, you knew it was your fault. You were the one who screwed up. He was the perfect match for you, you screwed up and now, you’d probably end up alone.

You heard a knock on the door.

- I’m fine, Talia, you said while wiping away your tears.

- It’s not Talia, you heard Marshall’s voice say. Can I come in ?

Marshall ? What was he doing here ? You quickly got up and opened the door.

- Hey, you said. I’m sorry, I told Talia to cancel for tonight. I’m feeling a bit under the weather…

- She told me about your ex, he said. But she thought we should do something to get your mind off things. Come here.

He pulled you in for a hug. He grabbed your face in his hands and wiped your tears with his thumbs.

- I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone’s face so swollen after crying, he said with a smile.

- I know, I’m an ugly cryer, you replied.

- Everyone’s ugly when they cry, he pointed out.

- No, that’s not true. Some people manage to stay hot even when they cry.

- Well I’ve never seen that, he said as he shook his head.

- I’m sure Ms. Perfection over there is still beautiful when she cries, you mumbled.

- Who ? Marshall asked, looking confused.

- The girl Simon was kissing. You should have seen her, Marshall. So beautiful. Tall. And blonde. And skinny. And perfect for him in every way. The opposite of me.

You rolled your eyes at the thought of her.

- As beautiful as she may be, I’m sure she can’t compete with you, Marshall said.

- You haven’t seen her, you pointed out.

- I don’t need to, he shrugged.

He was just being nice and you knew it full well. Still, the compliments made you feel a bit better.

- Why don’t you join Talia and Jamal ? Let me just put on something other than sweats and I’ll start cooking.

- I thought you wanted to cancel dinner ? He asked, looking confused.

- Yeah, but Talia still made you come all this way, so I might as well feed you.

- That’s awfully nice of you, he said with a grin.

- Nice of you to come, you said with a shy smile.

- Anything for you, Y/N, he replied with a serious tone. You can call me and I’ll be there.

- Good thing I don’t have your number, you said with a smile. You’d never live in peace otherwise.

- Let’s correct that, shall we ?

He grabbed your phone and entered his number in it.

- Now you can call me, he said. Anytime.

- Thanks, Marshall.

You gave him a shy smile and immediately rang him so he’d have your number too.

- I can help you cooking if you want, he offered. But I should warn you : I’m not too good at it.

- You’re a grown man and you can’t cook ? You asked in disbelief.

- Well I guess I can prepare food. I even worked as a short-order cook, a long time ago. I wouldn’t call that cooking though. Neither would my kids, he said with a grin.

- I’ll teach you a thing or two, then. Let me just get dressed.

- Why ? He asked. We’re staying in. You don’t have to make an effort for me.

You shrugged and headed to the kitchen with him. Truth was, you didn’t want Marshall to think of you as sloppy. Even though he did not really seem to care.

When you entered the kitchen, you found Jamal and Talia hugging and kissing like teenagers.

- You guys are too cute. I can’t handle that right now, you said.

- Yeah, please don’t rub your happiness in our single faces, Marshall pleaded.

- Sorry guys, I’m too in love with this gorgeous lady, Jamal said.

Both you and Marshall pretended to puke. The four of you laughed and started cooking together while listening to music. You tried teaching them how to prepare some traditional French chicken dish. It was a simple one but you hadn’t exactly been given the most attentive students. Marshall was desperately trying to cut the vegetables correctly (nearly destroying them in the process), while Talia and Jamal kept on making out like teenagers. You ended up preparing the dish by yourself. It wasn’t perfect but the group deemed it to be good enough.

- Don’t worry Y/N. If you keep cooking like that, we’ll find you a husband soon enough, Jamal complimented.

- JAMAL ! Talia shouted.

- Sorry. Wrong timing, he apologised. You know what I mean.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Jamal was really sweet and you knew he meant well.

- it’s good to hear you laugh, Talia said as she grabbed your hand.

- Thanks for being here, guys, you replied. My day sucked but you make it better.

- Anytime, Marshall said.

The four of you kept the conversation going but were soon disturbed by the door buzzing. Talia went to answer.

- Hey Talia. Is Y/N here ? I’d like to speak to her, you heard an all too familiar voice say.

- Simon ? You asked as your heart started racing. What are you doing here ?

[the-pen-pot]

Merthur Fic Ideas & WiPs

So I have a Merlin fic ideas page over on Patreon but obviously I can't link direct to that from AO3. So I'm popping one on here so you all know what's incoming/in the works/rattling around in my brain.

Coming to AO3 September 29th 2024

The Water and the Wilds:

'Magic is as much part of nature as the earth, sea and sky. Other sorcerers who sought out the circle found that their power developed certain affinities. Their abilities became tied to the cycle of the year. There would be one season at which their power was at its peak and another where it lay almost dormant. They became more closely connected to the natural ebb and flow of the world.'

'But?'

'But they were not Emrys. His strength is beyond anything in living memory, and the heights he could reach are, as yet, unknown.' Aglain spread his hands, his shoulders rolling in a graceful shrug. 'I can only tell you that the Tir Na Lei means no harm. Three is the number: the ritual is set. The circle will not call on Emrys again.'

______

In a Camelot where Arthur is king and magic is permitted once more, Merlin's power begins to change. Can he and Arthur overcome the challenges thrown their way, or will their relationship be forever changed by the ordeal?

(Approx 50 k in length, rated E)

If you want to read what else is in-progress, check out below!

Works In Progress

(All drafts are currently available over on Patreon - first chapter free to read. The rest are available to patrons in the $5 tier and up. They WILL become available on AO3 eventually. See bio or pinned post for link if you're interested ♥)

King and Court - 24 chapters currently drafted and available on Patreon - this one will begin updating on AO3 next as it's the one I've written most of.

Summary: Loneliness is an insidious thing. When Merlin looks at Arthur, he sees not just a prince waiting for his time to rule, but a young man struggling to find his place in the world, with little help from anyone else.

The truth is, Arthur needs more than the friendship Merlin can offer. He needs people he can trust: men and women who will become his court and his confidants, and if he is going to survive to take the throne and lead Camelot into its golden age, he needs them sooner rather than later.

Finding loopholes in Uther’s laws is no easy feat. Court life is a dangerous game, but it’s one Merlin has every intention of winning so that Arthur can have knights of his choosing by his side.

And then there is the matter of his magic…

(In my head this is basically entitled *~shenanigans, love and a golden age~*. Canon divergent AU)

Love Is Never Lost - 11 chapters currently drafted and available on Patreon.

Summary: Uther Pendragon has never approved of Arthur’s friendship with Merlin. There had been disappointed sighs and whispered warnings, but Arthur had never thought it would come to this: scars on Merlin’s back and a manservant made hollow and thin by cruelty.

Yet Uther’s efforts to drive a wedge between them instead bring Merlin’s greatest secret to light, and once the wound of secrecy has been purged, their healing brings them closer together than ever before.

Much to Uther Pendragon’s horror.

When Merlin disappears, Arthur is left questioning the true honour of the crown and the value of a kingdom forever stained by his father’s tyranny. Will he answer the call of duty, or will he sacrifice everything to chase the cries of his heart?

Tags will include: magic reveal, corporal punishment, slavery themes (and all that may imply), missing presumed dead, good Morgana, Arthur's POV, slow burn, dreamwalking, happily ever after eventually plus whatever else shows up as I write these!

Sigh No More - 7 chapters drafted on Patreon. This fic is my beloved. My baby. I'm obsessed. Fantasy Age-Of-Sail AU

Summary: Prince Arthur Pendragon, Captain of the Llamrei, would far rather spend his days patrolling Camelot's Waters than assume his place on the throne. Yet when he finds the wreckage of a vast ship and one lone survivor on board, nothing can prepare him for the path his life will lead.

Nor the demands his heart will make.

Hiraeth Ideas

Additions to the Hiraeth universe ideas : Just some little bulletpoints to remind me about things I would love to add to the Hiraeth verse once it's actually done.

Gwaine vs. a lemon

Merlin gets flu (my biologist heart wants to explore Merlin's immune system vs. Camelot germs plus no modern drugs. Excellent hurt/comfort opportunity - not that Hiraeth really needs more of that.)

Merlin "tormenting" Arthur via the bond (Explicit,  definitely)

Merlin shows Arthur (and others?) modern London.

The knights of Camelot at the zoo (sort of)

Maps/globes/celestial bodies knowledge

💀 Agravaine 💀

The one with the eclipse (some king and his sorcerer are trying to show off said sorcerer's power. There just so happens to be an eclipse.They know what it is so Merlin cannot claim credit, but he totally fucks with them anyway.)

Non-Hiraeth ideas

Magic Reveal Via Time-Travel  (Added June 2024)

Merlin and the knights get themselves into some kind of dire situation. Merlin, in a panic and realising he's not strong or knowledgable enough to save them, pretty much demands that the universe in general sends someone who can help.

What actually happens is he gets flung five years into the future, and his future self (who is more capable, among other things) takes his place. He sorts out the dire situation, whatever it may be, and that leaves Arthur and the others with future!Merlin, who is not only very magically capable but 100% their Merlin with lots more confidence, as irreverent as ever, and unmistakably thrumming with magic. They can all feel it, because Merlin makes no effort to hide.

More to the point future!Merlin remembers this from the other side, when he was younger and the same thing happened. He knows this is when the others find out about his magic, and he is able to answer their questions and emotional responses calmly and rationally, because he already knows Arthur isn't going to kill him or hate him or anything.

(Quite the opposite, in fact, since he's having to hide the fact that Arthur's ring is currently gleaming on his finger. He is grateful, at least, that he wasn't a. Pulled naked out of the bath for this magical meeting or b. wearing his crown, which would have been hard to explain without breaking Arthur's tiny brain.)

Meanwhile, young!Merlin is in Camelot, five years in the future, and Arthur and the others are a bit older, a (very little bit) wiser, and are also doing a brilliant job of calming him down and letting him know everything will be all right. And actually showing him the golden age they achieve -- that it's not impossible and out of reach.

Possibly a long four parter from young!Merlin, young!Arthur, older!Merlin and older!Arthur's points of view. Assuming I can write it without being confusing 🤣

Merlin's Voice - possibly a bit dark

My desire to put Merlin inhurt/comfort situations knows no bounds, but this one actually stems from the fact that Merlin doesn't remember the hug after he's been missing in Servant of Two masters and I'm weak for Arthur being a worried angsty little lamb about his missing manservant.

I'd probably go AU and make Morgana good, with Merlin's magic being known, and just have Morgause basically taking Morgana's place, except she and Agravaine are trying to get information about Camelot's weaknesses, and who better to lean on than Arthur's idiot manservant.

Cue Merlin being missing for days, Arthur panicking, Agravaine being dismissive as usual, and Morgause growing increasingly frustrated at the fact that she cannot get anything of note out of Merlin.

In the end, she tries a spell to force him to speak, except that Merlin is so fiercely determined not to betray Camelot and Arthur that his own magic takes the spell and twists it, forging it into a spell of silence instead.

Morgause gets cruel in her frustration, but eventually, Merlin manages to escape and head back for Camelot. It's no easy journey, and more to the point, the spell silencing him will not come off. No matter how hard he tries. He was so determined not to say anything that his magic went overboard in an effort to meet his intent.

I want to write that hug so Merlin remembers it. I want to have Arthur initially teasing about the silence but getting increasinlgy distressed by it. I want the realisation that Merlin is so incredibly expressive that the others rarely need him to write what he wants to say, they can get the gist of it from just a look.

It's one of those ones with ~vibes~  I want to explore, but I have no idea how it ends.

The "Back To The Start" One

So I made this post on Tumblr and it did numbers (I was thinking 4 people would "hell yes" me, not 2000 +)

"Not me sitting here thinking about writing a fic where we start with Arthur dying in Merlin's arms after Camlaan and it's all tragedy and then the magic rises and they both end up back at that first day, in the marketplace, Merlin with "How long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?" dying on his lips as they stare at each other, fascinated, horrified, so fucking relieved because they both remember ALL of it and none of it's happened yet and this time they can maybe make it to a different, better ending.

And they can do it together."

BUT TO EXPAND

I want to explore how Arthur and Merlin would interact with each other having lived in one another's pockets for ten years, only to be sent right back to the beginning, while retaining everything they are to each other. Merlin's magic newly revealed from the confession by the lakeside. The two of them standing there with every mistake in their future rather than their past and realising that maybe "two sides of the same coin" means "you need to work together, dumbass".

I want the two of them shocked by how young the other is. How different Camelot seems from what they're used to. How harsh Uther looks now that they know it can be different (though not as different as it should be, Arthur realises.) I want them correcting their mistakes (and each other's mistakes) and taking all that they know of each other and rebuilding their relationship (all their relationships, actually) on that honesty.

And the others don't remember. Morgana is still Morgana, still struggling, but still hoping to be saved. Mordred's just a boy.  Lancelot never sacrificed himself and it's so clear in Arthur's eyes that Gwen loved them both but that she loved Lancelot first and in a different way.

The knights end up at Camelot earlier simply because Arthur and Merlin set out to find them earlier. 

("We need Gwaine." "Do we? Really?" "Yes, you great prat. Come on.")

And so much more.

The "Fake Favourite" One 

This is basically me having a desperate urge to write all the political whatevers of Arthur taking Merlin as a favourite, smashed together with a fake dating AU.

Basic premise is simple: in an effort to avoid the latest princess eyeing up his hand for marriage (and with Uther's blessing, because it suits him for now to put off marrying Arthur to someone) Arthur decides that he will pretend Merlin is his lover and favourite. They spend all their time together anyway, and half the court rumour already appears to think they sleep together, so it will hardly be any change to either of them.

Except all Arthur has to do is say the words to make it happen, but there's a lot more to being a favourite than that. Merlin can't continue to serve him, and then there's the whole situation of a new wardrobe (which Merlin and his magic both fight against) the political wheeling and dealing that comes with a servant being elevated in status, not to mention the subtle ways in which the court first tries to manipulate Merlin, and then is manipulated by him in turn (for the good of Camelot)

What starts out as Arthur aggressively but jokingly courting Merlin (because Merlin said he was bad at it) ends up much closer to *actual* courting.

And no, Merlin cannot sleep in the antechamber, because the chambermaids will notice they're not sharing a bed.

(This basically would end up being a story about Merlin no longer being a servant but becoming a valued member of the court almost by accident (but being very good at it) and the two fools falling helplessly in love with each other while they pretend to be lovers.)

Morgana, Gwen and the knights would be placing ridiculous bets and generally watching it all with disbelieving horror and delight because only these two idiots could make falling in love so complicated.

The "Stuck In Close Quarters" One 

Merlin and Arthur trapped underground in VERY close proximity (like lying on top of each other) and running out of air and Merlin’s magic is too weak (thanks to a battle maybe) to get them out but he can replenish the air but there is no way Arthur won’t notice.

Cue a magic reveal in close quarters and love confessions.

The Horn of Cathbad one

Merlin dies and due to some glitchiness with his magic, he doesn’t immediately come back. Instead, Arthur, in the freshness of his grief, reaches for magic.

He uses the Horn of Cathbhad to see Merlin again, knowing that if he summons Merlin’s ghost and looks back, then Merlin will stay. (Maybe Gaius warns him - but he doesn’t take it as a warning, but a blessing.)

And Merlin answers, and Arthur doesn’t dismiss his ghost. There are ghostly shenanigans and while it’s not the same as having his friend back, it helps. He doesn’t really have to grieve.

Except that Merlin’s spirit starts to become restless and angry, and it reaches the point where Merlin is *begging* Arthur to let him go. He doesn’t know about his immortality but something is pulling at him.

And Arthur finds the strength to let him go and it’s like losing him all over again.

And then, of course, Merlin comes back ❤️

Blind Merlin One

Arthur and co. suspect Merlin has magic but haven't spoken of it to him yet. While out on patrol, Merlin takes a curse meant for Arthur, one that effectively blinds him until "you see the truth". Arthur thinks it's about the magic and it dredges all that out into the open, but the curse doesn't leave. Merlin quickly adapts to using magic to "see" (in a manner of speaking) and keeps his eyes covered to hide their glow.

Of course, Arthur's threatened about Merlin's vulnerability and baffled about the curse etc. It turns out that the truth they need to see is how they feel for each other. Angst/hurt/comfort/fluff because I can.

Omegaverse One (Maybe a series? Sort of tempted to try out some MPreg)

Well off my normal beaten path, but I keep what-iffing it so I'm writing it down here (and will totally draw on some of the mechanics and plot points of Gilded Cage)

Not all magic users are Omegas, but all Omegas have magic, which means Merlin has more than one secret to keep, and he keeps it well. It "helps" that when he presented in Ealdor, one of the Alphas in the village attacked and bit him, forming enough of a bond to stabilise his biochemistry before he managed to escape. It was that incident that pushed him and Hunith into making him go to Camelot.

Merlin successfully hides what he is for years, thinking he's safe, but the Alpha who bit him never stops looking for him. The Alpha eventually tracks him down, threatens Merlin etc., but gets killed in a tavern brawl before he can make good on his threats. That, in turn, breaks the bond that's been keeping Merlin stable and able to pass, in general, as a beta.

Cue it all going a little bit to hell because Arthur thought he knew everything about Merlin and it turns out he really didn't, and now his irritating and attractive beta manservant who always smelled good is an irritating, attractive, sorcerous omega manservant who smells amazing... etc.

(and maybe this one sounded a lot better in my head? There's a whole heap of nuance I'm not putting down - but it's a possible future Merlin fic.)

Different curse fic

A sorcerer curses Arthur with magic in order to make the Pendragon heir everything that the king hates. He wants to see if he is a hypocrite who will spare his sorcerous son, or a tyrant who will damn the ties of blood and execute him.

Cue Arthur frantically trying to hide the fact that he has magic from everyone, including Merlin, except that's fantastically unsuccessful because Merlin has magic, knows magic, *is* magic.

Then you've got Merlin desperately trying to hide the fact that Arthur had magic from the court while concealing that *he* has magic from Arthur. He very small and tired and stressed about it.

But the upshot is that Arthur has a better understanding of magic - how it is not, in itself, bad or corrupt - and because his magic has no chill and absolutely adores Merlin it acts as the pivotal point that brings out all their secrets (and desire)

The Lancelot and a dead body one -probably shortish.

This is more a scene that anything, but I keep thinking of how to expand it a bit better (I did a text chat thing on tumblr about this plot bunny I need to write it one day)

Arthur and all the knights are in an antechamber off the armoury after an evening training session. The door is ajar. They hear Lancelot come in and Gwaine's about to call out to him when Merlin stumbles through the door.

'I need your help burying a body!'

And Lancelot doesn't squawk or demand answers but just says, in a "so done with this shit" voice: 'Again?'

Meanwhile Arthur and the others are like "What the hell?" and follow Merlin and Lancelot out towards the border of the Darkling Woods where there is a huge and very dead monster just.... lying there.

Then we have Merlin making desperate and really bad excuses, which Arthur would be more willing to pretend he believed if Merlin wasn't bloodied and swaying where he stood and also had flowers blooming around his feet, because Merlin used a lot of magic to take this thing down and it's kind of leaking a bit.

And then we go on from there with the knights spending all night trying to dig a big enough hole and asking questions and all that, and Merlin being too tired and beaten up to really put them off - and then I end it somehow. (I did say this was just a scene!)

[writeforfandoms]

Waking Lions 20

Find the series masterlist

We're changing things up a little this chapter! I felt you guys needed a POV switch to really get a better picture of what's going on.

So, let's check in with Price and see how he's handling this, shall we?

Warnings: swearing, yelling, game typical violence, war crimes probably, Price needs his own warning, canon typical violence against nameless goons.

Word count: 2.3k

In his defense, Price had a lot on his mind. 

But no. That was no kind of defense. 

Especially not when it came to you. 

He'd sent you away because he had to, because otherwise you'd be too distracting. He had to focus on the task at hand. 

Not on thinking about everything he'd just learned about you. Everything you'd let slip in your fluster. 

He knew you well enough to know that you'd be mortified, later. You kept so many things to yourself that knowing an entire room full of people had heard that would probably send you into hiding. 

From the way Laswell glanced at the door after you left, Price knew that she was thinking the same thing. 

But there would be time later to console you, to apologize for being an ass, to make sure you were alright. 

For now, he had work to do. 

Now that there were three groups involved, it was easier to split up the targets. Easier to send Soap with Alejandro and Rodolfo, to keep Ghost with him and Gaz, to let KorTac keep to themselves. This wasn't the kind of mission he wanted to test by putting together potentially explosive personalities. 

(Price could admit, if only to himself, that he didn't trust himself to work with those three. Not right now, not with the new intel still so close to the surface, not with his own curiosity burning a hole in his stomach.) 

The three targets were, of course, not near each other. 

“I can arrange transport,” Laswell said. It was not an offer for the 141 or the Vaqueros, but it was an offer for KorTac. 

“We've got our own,” Declan said, a relatively gentle refusal. “Timing will be tight.” 

“Just have to coordinate,” Alejandro said, unbothered. “We won't give them a chance to warn each other.” 

“Give me a little time to coordinate the flights,” Laswell said, stepping closer to Declan. It was as close to a dismissal as the rest of them would get. She didn't need them hanging over her shoulder while she worked her magic. 

So Price stepped out of the room, his boys behind him. 

“Think Ace is alright?” Gaz asked softly. He was a smart, perceptive lad. Cared so much still. Probably too much, sometimes. 

“I'll check in on her,” Price murmured. He still had one phone number that worked for you, fortunately. 

It rang through to voice mail. 

Okay. Not to panic. Didn't mean anything. 

Soap and Ghost ran off to get lunch for everyone, since planning was best done on a full stomach. 

Price tried calling again. No answer again. 

It could be a thousand things. You could have your phone on silent. You could be mad at him and ignoring his calls. You could be busy with something else. 

But his paranoia was rearing its head, undeniable and ugly. 

You were right in the middle of all this, of course he was going to be concerned about you. 

So he went on a little walk. To help clear his head. 

He didn't see any sign of you. Every bit of his hard-won paranoia was screaming that something was wrong. That this wasn't like you. 

One more phone call. One more. 

Then he'd move on to more drastic measures. 

The third call also went to voice mail. You weren't picking up. One he could excuse, two was iffy. But three calls?

Something was wrong. 

“Gaz,” he called as he strode back into the building. “Need the laptop.” 

Gaz was quick to produce it, giving Price a curious look. “Need any help, sir?”

“Maybe.” Price pulled up one of the programs Laswell had given him. Normally this kind of work was more up her alley - CIA shit, as Simon more or less affectionately referred to it. But Price wasn't clueless, or useless. 

Gaz behind him, watching over his shoulder. Price didn't discourage him, focused on putting in your number and letting the program do its job. 

Let this be nothing. Let him be paranoid. He could handle your temper, your hiding, your embarrassment. 

So long as you were safe. 

The tracker put your phone in a mostly residential area, well out of the way. Not near the hotel, not near anything the two of you had talked about. 

Something was wrong. 

It didn’t take him long to pull up CCTV in the area, flipping through them. There wasn’t a lot, and his jaw tightened in frustration. 

“Wait,” Gaz said over his shoulder. “Go back one.”

Price obliged, going back to the previous angle. 

“There, in the grass on the far side of the street.” Gaz pointed, shifting closer. 

Price’s heart sank right down to his boots. A cell phone lay in the grass, abandoned. He knew you well enough to know that you wouldn’t just leave your cell phone. Not without reason.

Wordlessly, he backed up the footage until he found you. He paused for a moment, taking in the scene. The car. You, standing back just a little. The man clearly encouraging you in. 

He backed up until you came into frame. 

But you weren’t alone.

“Laswell!” 

The door slammed open and Laswell was at his elbow moments later, leaning over his open shoulder. “Fuck,” she hissed, which was all the confirmation Price needed. 

The man with you was Gray. 

“How did he get her into the car?” Gaz, quiet and reasonable. 

“Threats,” Price grunted. 

“Me,” Laswell added, lips tight, fury in the crease of her brow. “He’s using me against her.” 

Price scowled. Gray needed to be taken out. Immediately. But they couldn’t give up the mission, either. 

“Track the car,” he told Gaz, pushing the laptop to his sergeant instead. “I need to know where they’re going.”

“Sir?” Gaz blinked at him, even as he pulled up the program. 

“I need some supplies.” He looked to Laswell next. 

“I’ll have them for you.” Laswell glanced back at Gaz, putting things together a little faster. “The op?”

“Needs to move forward.” Price shook his head. “I’ll be back in time, or I won’t. Gaz, you and Ghost are still on.” 

Gaz frowned but didn’t object. Good lad. “Car’s left the suburbs,” he reported, a map pulled up on his phone. “Heading south.” 

“We’ll find it again,” Laswell said, nodding to Price. “Here. Go here, take whatever you need.” She handed him an address scribbled on a piece of paper. “I’ll update you when we find the car.”

Price took the note with a nod and strode away. He didn’t wait for the elevator, hitting the door to the stairs hard enough it bounced off the wall of the stairwell. He didn’t slow, even as he hit the front door and just sidestepped running into Soap.

“Captain?” Soap called.

“Ask Laswell!” Price called over his shoulder, car keys in hand. He didn’t have time to stop and explain. 

It took very little time to get to Laswell’s supply stash, and he took what he needed. Fortunately, she was well supplied, and he made a mental note to thank her for it.

But for now, the only thing on his mind was you. 

You’d been gone for hours by now, and from the time stamp on the CCTV, you’d been in the car with Gray at least an hour. 

He stopped at the curb next to where Gaz had spotted your phone, getting out. And there it was, still sitting in the grass. 

Still open to show a new recording. 

Price listened the whole recording, jaw clenched tight, fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. 

Gray knew more than he should. He had sources, clearly. 

But Price couldn’t bring himself to care much about that. No. 

He cared about the little waver in your voice, the way he could hear you putting up a brave front. 

You were terrified. And he wanted to rip Gray limb from limb for making you so scared. 

Gaz called. Price barely glanced at the phone before he connected the call. 

“We’ve got a location,” Gaz reported, voice even. Almost too even. Price could hear the stress he was hiding. 

“Tell me.” Price didn’t even pause as he memorized the address, just in case. “Picked up Ace’s phone.” 

“Anything?” Gaz tried not to sound hopeful.

“Ace got a recording before she got in the car.” Price had to pause for a moment, clenching his jaw. “He knows too much. Knew about us, said he’s got something planned for Laswell, too.” 

“Fucking hell.” Gaz drew in a deep breath. “Sure you don’t need backup, sir?” 

“I’ll keep you updated.” Price barreled through a yellow light, ignoring everything not an active danger to him. “How are your preparations going?” 

“Laswell’s got the flights arranged,” Gaz said, a little reluctantly. “Timing is coordinated. We’ll be leaving in a few hours.”

“Rog.” Price doubted he’d make it back in time. And if, by some miracle, he did, he didn’t know if he’d be in the correct frame of mind to be on mission. 

“Take the next left.”

Price obeyed without question, only breaking one or two traffic laws. (It was fine, Laswell would clear it up later.) “The others?”

“Up to date,” Gaz reported. “Had to talk Soap out of going after you.”

Price snorted. Surprising - he hadn’t known that sergeant had much fondness for you. Then again, Soap could just be reacting because Price was fond of you. Sometimes that was enough. “I trust Ghost is behaving.”

Gaz huffed. “Define behaving,” he grumbled, overly dramatic. Breaking the tension a bit. 

“He hasn’t killed anyone yet or there’d be a lot more yelling.” Price scowled at the driver ahead of him, who was going exactly the speed limit. 

“Laswell’s on top of everything,” Gaz assured him. “Go right, cut up two streets, and then left.”

Price grunted as he followed Gaz’s directions, pushing his foot down as soon as he was out from behind the slow driver. “How far?”

“Rate you’re going? Fifteen minutes.” 

Price breathed slowly. You’d have been alone with Gray for near two hours by that point. He had no idea what condition he’d find you in. If you’d even be alive. The thought sent pain through his chest, clenching and sharp, but he forced himself not to shy away from it.

It was a possibility, even if it was one he did not want to face. 

If it was true… if you were already gone…

He’d burn Gray alive. 

Price switched from the call to a comm unit he tucked in his ear before he headed out of the car. He’d parked a little ways away, just in case. The abandoned hotel was in clear sight, fortunately no taller than the surrounding buildings. Still too many hiding places, sniper spots. 

That was fine. Price would just clear the entire fucking building room by room until he had you back.  

“Careful, sir. I count six outside.” 

“Together?” Price crept forward, using a parked van as a hiding spot. 

“Spread out. Three teams of two.”

Price’s lips thinned. Time to thin out the herd, then. 

The first two fell so quickly they were almost simultaneous. Price moved around the van, keeping low and creeping towards the next pair, the silenced pistol firm in his grip. This was normal, easier. It was easy to view these people as the enemy, easy to clear them out systematically, coolly, silently. And they were the enemy - they were working for Gray, who had clearly allied himself on the ultranationalists and terrorists.  

Which all meant that Price felt no guilt, no remorse, not even a flicker of hesitation in taking down every single man between him and you. 

“I have no cameras inside,” Gaz told him as Price finally approached the door. 

“Copy,” Price grunted. “Going dark.” He breached the door as quietly as he could, looking around. 

So far, so good.

The ground level of this building was an absolute wreck of furniture, graffiti, and rubble. Dust, dirt, and debris covered most of the floor. The main area was a mess of footprints and an open crate of supplies.

No good hints as to where Gray had taken you.

Price cleared the ground floor methodically, cold rage spurring him on. He didn’t spare any of the bodies that hit the ground a second look.

They were nothing more than obstacles. 

The last door was more than just a room, though. There was a half-open door, with a staircase going down. Maintenance, at a guess. 

And soft voices from down there. 

Too far away to tell if you were down there. But if Price had to bet, he’d guess that you were. Gray would keep you contained and out of danger, at least until he got what he wanted from you. 

“John,” Laswell said over the comm.

Price paused, pulling back from the open doorway, pitching his voice low so it wouldn’t carry. “Laswell.”

“I found some backup for you. You’ll recognize him.” 

Price blinked but didn’t allow himself any other sign of surprise. “Copy that. I’m headed downstairs - room near the back of the building has stair access.”

“I’ll pass that along.” Laswell drew in a breath, and Price waited. “If you can, bring Gray back alive.”

His lips pulled back from his teeth. “No promises.”

“Good hunting, John.” Laswell clicked off the comm. 

Price breathed in deep. Someone would be coming behind him, backup. He just needed to not shoot his backup. And possibly not shoot Gray. 

That would depend entirely on how you were when he found you. 

Price nudged the door open enough to slip through, descending silently. 

The first guard went down silently, and Price dragged the body out of the hallway and into a closet. That would buy him a little time if any other guards came through. 

A double tap through the com got his attention, and Price half-turned to find a familiar face walking down the corridor towards him. 

Price grinned, probably showing a few too many teeth. “Good to see you again,” he murmured. “Let’s get on it, sergeant.”

[foundress0fnothing]

touching you i catch midnight

For my love, @beesays. Happy Holidays! It has been such a joy to get to know you better over these last few months, and I hope you enjoy this feysand modern AU, second chance romance l've cooked up for you. You are such a wonderful fandom friend and I am sending you so many hugs this holiday season 🎄

Thank you to @violetasteracademic for beta reading for me! 🫶 babe 💕

Also many thanks to @acotargiftexchange for putting together this wonderful event. Y'all are the absolute best!

Summary: It's been 10 years since Feyre left her hometown—and everyone who lived there—behind. Now she's back, working at her sister's event planning company, and throwing a birthday party for her ex's mysteriously MIA fiancée. Lucky her.

This is chapter 1 of 5.

title from Audre Lorde's “Recreation”

Read below the cut or here on ao3!

November 1st

Feyre leaned against the brick wall at the entrance to the rooftop, tiredly scanning the space to see if she’d missed anything. String lights? Check. High top tables with dried flower centerpieces? Check. A truly excessive number of  black, white, and maroon pillar candles arranged strategically to bathe darkened corners with a glowing warmth? Check. A cascading flower arch of green and gold and burnt orange and deep maroon that she had spent far too long trying to assemble? Check. A tension headache and the niggling sensation that she had definitely forgotten something? Check.

Nesta glaring? Also—unsurprisingly—check.

Her sister stood next to her after having come up from the restaurant downstairs. “It’s a little gauche, no?”

“You approved the design,” Feyre scoffed. It was just like Nesta though—only her eldest sister would open an event company and then be critical of everything the clients requested. Valkyrie Events had been open for a full year, and as far as Feyre knew, Nesta was unofficially banned from getting involved with anything client-facing when it came to the decorating side of the business.

Nesta shrugged. “It’s not my fault if the clients have bad taste.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. The space was fine—lovely even, not that she was trying to praise her own work. Emerie had found a newer restaurant in the city that rented out their top floor and rooftop bar, and Valkyrie Events had taken over the space early that morning for the event. The lights and the candles and the autumnal colors Feyre had set up all spoke of warmth and joy and family, and when the event started in a few hours, they would look even more magical against the darkened city skyline. Perfect for an engagement party. 

She felt some small part of her strain at that thought.

But she shook her head. What could have been—and what was narrowly avoided—wasn’t worth dwelling on. Not right now, in any case. 

No, now she only wanted to make her way back to her studio, take a too-hot shower, and curl up under the covers with Netflix and a glass of wine until she fell asleep. She could worry about love another day.

And so with a wry snort at Nesta’s impossibly high standards, Feyre made to push off of the wall to head back downstairs, but she felt her sister’s hand grab onto her own before she could actually move anywhere.

“I need you to stay today.” 

Feyre groaned, slumping back against the brick and turning a baleful gaze onto her sister. Nesta had enough grace to look slightly apologetic as she said, “Deirdre called out with the flu or something. I can’t have her puking all over the canapes tonight.”

“And you can’t make do with one fewer server tonight? I’m sure the couple will be too wrapped up in each other to notice if someone only stops by with food every five minutes instead of every three.”

“We’re already down a server. Roslin’s taken the day for a family event, and Gwyn, Em, and I are already thin enough with everything else.” She sighed, and then, as if it pained her, said, “Please, Fey.”

It was the echo of what Feyre had said to Nesta one month ago when, fresh off a break up with her ex of almost a decade, she begged her sister for a job. She had finally left Tamlin, but it was at the cost of everything she owned and any financial security she might have hoped to fall back on. She couldn't even stay in the same city; he had managed to use his family’s money and influence to make it so that even the most run-down Starbucks wouldn’t hire her.

And so she had gone back to Velaris where she had grown up, back to her sister who had managed to put down roots and make a life in a place that had been nothing but cruel to her when she was a child. Where Feyre had run, Nesta had stayed and built something—and a new family—that was worth staying for.

To hear Nesta tell it, Valkyrie Events was built out of a combination of strategic late night planning sessions with her two best friends, Emerie Castello and Gwyn Berdara, and their unquenchable feminine spirit. Emerie had confided to Feyre that actually, the three of them had been stoned out of their minds when someone—probably Gywn—voiced the idea, and then they spent the rest of the night messily scrawling down ideas on their fridge white board.

But however it had come to be, Velaris had welcomed the woman-owned company eagerly. They had thrown events for a handful of the other small businesses in the town, a few of the local celebrities, and once, memorably, the mayor’s reelection celebration. A year in now, it was rare that a month went by without Valkyrie Events organizing two or three parties every weekend. As the business grew, the three original friends began to hire some women from the jujitsu classes they took at the Y who were looking for a fresh start until there was a comfortable roster of employees to work events so that no one woman lost her entire weekend, every weekend, to celebrating someone else’s joy without having a chance to make some of her own.

And so it had been an act of kindness—not a need for more employees—that Nesta and her friends agreed to take Feyre on as a decorator. She had an artistic eye, sure, but had never worked as a server, had no experience designing a space, and didn’t have any contacts with other small businesses or local friends to leverage into new opportunities for the company.

Feyre was grateful—she was. Nesta had given her a couch to crash on while she built up some savings, a job, and now, a chance to actually do something worthwhile for the company. The event that night was the first where her work would actually be seen by the clients; the last month had been a marathon of shadowing Gwyn, mocking up plans for events just to get used to the way the company worked, and meeting all the big names in the event-planning world of Velaris. 

Today was an engagement party for some wealthy duo who had met as teenagers and apparently loathed each other on sight, only to slowly find their way together when they were randomly paired as roommates at Prythian U. That was the story they had relayed to Emerie when booking Valkyrie Events, anyway. Feyre didn’t know if she believed it—it was too cute, too much like a cheesy romance novel plot to actually be real—but it wasn’t her job to question it.

Although it was apparently going to be her job to serve it. 

“Are you sure?” Feyre whined in a final attempt to get out of spending the night bringing mini crab cakes, petit fours, champagne refills to unfairly rich, unfairly happy people.

Nesta grimaced at Feyre’s tone. “Uniforms are downstairs. We should have something to fit you.”

“You’re going to make me wear a uniform? But I’m already staying late.” Feyre drew out the last word petulantly, savoring the way Nesta’s eye twitched.

“Fey.” Nesta gestured at the paint-spattered overalls that Feyre was currently wearing. “Be serious.”

“Fine, whatever, boss. I’ll wear the stupid uniform.”

“There, there, Fey. You look great in black. And who knows,” she said, smiling bitingly, “maybe it’ll be fun.”

–

It was not fun.

Feyre had spent the final hours before the event running around to help Nesta take care of a few final things—lighting candles, making sure the bar was stocked with enough glasses, frantically gluing a wayward twist of flowers from the arch that was already threatening to droop and pull the whole structure down with it. 

And now she was standing in a bathroom stall, holding the black server’s uniform in her hand and contemplating the feasibility of a short standing nap before she had to plaster on a smile for the clients. Pros of the nap: sleep. Cons of the nap: literally everything else. 

She knew she only had a few minutes, tops, before Nesta came looking for her, and the interruption to her sleep would put her in a shit mood for the rest of the day. And all that, only for a standing nap, leaning against a bathroom wall? She wasn’t sure that she wanted to acknowledge that new low today.

As she grimaced at that thought, her dozy musings were interrupted by the sound of a voice that was strikingly familiar. Feyre froze, straining to place it.

“Are you sure it’s not too much, Viv?”

Viv, whoever she was, assured the familiar voice that it wasn’t too much and that she looked great, and then the two slid into easy chatter about friends and coworkers and weekend plans.

They were guests for the event that night, clearly, and probably family if they were here so early, but Feyre couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew the voice.

She peeked through the gap in the stall door and caught sight of a wine-red dress, a mane of long, blonde hair, and then, as the owner of the voice turned, a profile that caused Feyre to inhale sharply. 

Morrigan Datiles. Feyre recognized her. How could she not? They had been like sisters, once. 

Mor hadn’t noticed the sound, or if she had, hadn’t cared to investigate it, and so Feyre stood still, waiting until the two women finished primping and walked out of the bathroom.

Forcing herself to kill some time so that she didn’t accidentally bump into Mor in the hallway, Feyre pulled on her server’s uniform, grimacing unconsciously as the black fabric stretched tightly against what few curves she had. All the while, her mind was racing. Why was Mor here? And who was the party for, if Mor was a guest? 

Feyre didn’t want to think about the answer to those questions. Thinking about those questions meant thinking about Mor’s family, and then seeing Mor’s family, and then serving Mor’s family, and there was too much messy history between all of them to make that in any way easy.

But still—she had to know.

Feyre stepped out of the stall, washed her hands, and then opened the door into the hallway, peeking around to make sure that the coast was clear. She could hear the hum of the kitchen and the buzz of conversation from the bar, but the path to the offices behind the restaurant where Valkyrie Events had set up shop for the day was mercifully clear. 

Nesta looked up from her computer at the sound of the door slamming as Feyre closed it behind herself.

“What.” Her sister had a way of saying the word that felt more like a threat than a question, and Feyre had to steel herself to avoid cringing and backing out of the room.

“Who is the event for?”

“I don’t know, some couple. I don’t remember their names.” Nesta shrugged, disinterested.

“It’s literally your job, Nes.” 

“And?” 

Feyre was reminded why Nesta wasn’t allowed to talk to clients.

“You could ask Em,” Nesta offered. “It’s her cousin.”

“God, you’re the worst.” Feyre rolled her eyes, but pulled out her phone anyway.

Feyre: Em, who’s the event for today? 

Em: My cousin, Az.

Azriel Moreno.

We reconnected a few months ago

Why

Did you know him growing up

Feyre clicked the screen off without answering, closed her eyes, and took a few calming breaths. 

They didn’t work. 

“You have me working an event for Azriel Moreno?” She whisper-screamed. “Do you remember who his brother is?”

Nesta looked up from her computer. “The gym bro idiot?”

“Not that one—although it’s interesting that you remember Cassian, and we’ll be revisiting that later. The other one.”

“Rich asshole?”

“Yes. Well, no—his name is Rhysand,” Feyre corrected, belatedly remembering Nesta’s disdain for the man. It had been so long since she had said his name, and it felt awkward in her mouth.

“Weren’t you friends in high school?”

Flashes of art class and coffee runs and late night study sessions flickered in Feyre’s memory.

“Yep. And then we weren’t.” She paused, and then turned her best youngest sister pout on Nesta. “Please don’t make me serve this party. Not if they’re all going to be here.”

Her sister looked pained. “Feyre, we need…”

“I know, I know. I just—” She waved her off, and then sighed. “I just didn’t want to see him again. And not like this,” she said, gesturing down at the server’s uniform. It wasn’t awful, as uniforms went—it was black and comfortable and well-made—but it certainly wasn’t what she would choose for a reunion with everyone.

Nesta arched an eyebrow. “Do you have an issue with working for Valkyrie Events?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Maybe he won’t recognize you? It’s been what? Nine years?”

It had been ten. Almost as long as she had been with Tamlin. 

“Maybe.” Feyre sighed. “I’ll be ready to help with food prep in a few minutes, then. I just want to touch all of this up.” She gestured vaguely to her head, thinking of the brush and the makeup she was pretty sure were still at the bottom of her art kit from some gallery event she had attended with Tamlin before everything fell apart. There was no way out but through apparently, and she figured she might as well try not to look quite as bedraggled as she felt.

Her art kit was in the car, and it didn’t take her long to find everything (plus a travel-sized deodorant that she had also left there—bless past Feyre for being too lazy to unpack), and make her way back to the bathroom.

She stared at her reflection. Her eyes were tired, their blue-gray leaning more toward a dull slate, and her freckles stood out sharply against her skin. Her all-nighter to get the decor done was catching up with her, and she grimaced, watching her face contort into a mockery of itself and decided to tackle her hair before attempting any makeup.

Her braid hung limply over one shoulder, a mess of flyaways and frizz, and Feyre slipped the hair tie off to start finger combing it out. It fell in gentle, honey-golden waves, and as she brushed it and let it frame her face, she hoped that, between it and the intervening years, it would be enough to make her unrecognizable. She had tied it back in a braid almost every day in high school after all, too tired from the early cafe shifts she’d work before school to do anything more than get it out of her way. 

As she continued messing with her hair, she let her mind wander, wondering what everyone would be like now that so much time had passed. Mor seemed the same—exuberant and joyful—but more polished, comfortable with herself in a way that warmed Feyre’s heart to see. She imagined that Cassian too would be the same as she remembered him—affable and easy going, brotherly almost. Azriel was a surprise, though—she couldn’t picture the broody, darkly handsome teenager as a husband, even if she had just spent the last day preparing what was to be a party to celebrate exactly that.

And then there was Rhys. 

Was he married? Or dating? She grimaced at the thought of seeing him there with a date. Not that he shouldn’t have one! Feyre squinted at herself in the mirror, admonishing her reflection for her instinctive jealous reaction. Why wouldn’t he be dating? Even in high school, there had always been a bevy of women following him around, just in case he deigned to notice them. He was handsome and intelligent and rich—it was inevitable that he had found someone with whom to share a life.

She imagined he would have taken over his father’s tech company as well—it was what had been expected of him, even a decade ago, and for all the teenage rebellion that brought them together, Feyre didn’t think that he would actually go through with bucking that responsibility.

She could still remember the day he sauntered into her art elective sophomore year. Picturing the Self Through Pastel, the class had been called—a needlessly complicated way to indicate that they’d be working on portraiture with pastels, Feyre thought—but still, she had worked doubles at the cafe all summer to afford the materials for it. Finding that no one else was sitting at her station on the first day of class, she had resigned herself to a semester of exclusively painting self-portraits and had just begun to sketch out the rough contours of her face when the door to the art room creaked open to reveal a tardy Rhysand Ashcroft: senior, soccer star, soon-to-be homecoming king, and someone who had absolutely no business taking her art elective. Without so much as a word of apology to Ms. Alis, the teacher, Rhys had sauntered over to the empty spot near Feyre.

“This spot taken, darling?” He leaned his weight against the wood frame that held their station’s easels, the audacity of the movement immediately irritating Feyre. Because of course it wasn’t enough that she had to scrimp and scrape all summer to be able to afford this elective in the first place—no, now she’d get to spend the whole semester trying to make something worthwhile for her RISD portfolio while fending off distractions from a future business major frat bro enrolled in what she was sure he considered a blow-off class.

“No.” She shifted her side of their station as she said it, causing him to pitch forward slightly before catching himself against the stool.

He gracefully lowered himself onto it as if he hadn’t almost eaten shit. He looked her over, a smirk blooming on his face, and said, “What a warm welcome, darling.”

Despite herself, Feyre smirked back, and even now a decade later, the memory still made something in her warm.

Maybe she should just Google Rhys to prepare herself for whatever the night was about to be.

Just as Feyre was about to pull out her phone, she was interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening. She sucked in a horrified breath as she caught a flash of red and blonde out of the corner of her eye and quickly looked down to let her hair obscure her face.

But she wasn’t fast enough, and Mor had always been good at sniffing out the truth. 

“Feyre Archeron.”

Feyre sighed.  “Hi, Mor.”

[scarletwitchproperty]

Your eyes whispered have we met? - Chapter 6 (epilogue)

Pairing: Taylor Swift x Fem!OC

Words: 5,2k

Summary: It's the first night of the Eras Tour and something magical happens

Warnings: none (okay no maybe that's a lie I almost gave Tree a heart attack in this with Taylor and OC almost doing it in front of her lmao the poor woman)

masterlist

The End Of All The Endings (She knelt to the ground and said…)

‘’Are you sure about this Taylor?’’ 

‘’Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?’’ 

‘’It’s just…it doesn’t look safe at all. I’m worried about you!’’ 

Four months. It’s been four glorious months since you met your soulmate, your Lover, the Queen of your Heart, your everything. 

You got to know one another pretty quickly the days following that fateful Sunday, going on dates like any normal couple would do. Taylor took you to her favorite restaurants in the city, and more often than not she would also drag you along to her recording studio. You love these private moments the best, being able to listen to her enchanting voice away from prying eyes. Often times you record Taylor in front of her mic, completely bewitched by the passion she showcases each and every time she performs any of her song for you. 

You met the rest of her family and friends on her birthday three months ago, which was an event in and of itself. Andrea had been nothing but sweet to you, and although Scott had looked at you with narrowed eyes at first it didn’t take long for him to warm up to you. Taylor’s brother acted as though he knew you since forever, telling you embarrassing childhood memories about the singer every chance he could. Taylor acted like it bothered her to no end, but you knew otherwise. 

Robin had insisted that you invite Taylor and her parents over at her house for Christmas Day, telling you that it would be a good opportunity for all the in laws to meet. Your soulmate’s parents loved the idea, and now you knew where Taylor’s love language came from, because the way Andrea’s car was half full of presents for your nephews wasn’t even funny. As you predicted, Taylor fell in love with little James the first time she laid eyes on him. The little boy even had that weird but cute phase a month ago where he refused to sleep anywhere else other than in Taylor’s arms, but it all came to a stop the day you blasted Wonderland from your phone and the baby fell asleep on the couch. It was then discovered that while James loved your soulmate, it was the sound of her voice that lulled him to sleep. It still didn’t prevent Taylor from bragging about it to everyone. Even to Tree. 

It was, of course, inevitable that pictures of you would start circulating all over the internet. You were aware that it was a possibility, but the day you saw a man standing outside your daycare with his gigantic camera filming your every move was the day you clearly lost your shit. That was a complete breech of privacy and the children didn’t deserve this, nor did you. If not for the countless bodyguards Taylor had patrolling around the block the man would be six feet underground, and you were sure the remains of his camera could still be found where you crushed it with all your strength on the street that day. Serves him right!

However, the thing that surprised you the most was that Taylor’s fans, the Swifties, defended you on the internet every chance they could. Someone tried to badmouth you in a video? Comments immediately flooded by angry swifties. Another tries to belittle you when they find out where you work? Best be sure someone would find out their name, address, phone number and place of work faster than you could blink and send it all to their boss, effectively getting them fired. Of course there were still those whom were less than supportive of your relationship with Taylor, but those who were supportive held a special place in your heart. 

Speaking of Taylor’s fans, you could hear all seventy thousands of them talking and screaming out in the stadium, waiting for your soulmate to come on stage for her first ever show of her new world tour, The Eras Tour. 

To say that you didn’t cry tears of joy when Taylor told you she was going on tour for more than a year would be a lie. You were so happy for her, glad that all her hard work would finally pay off. Although she didn’t tell you which song she would put on the set list, you know it’s going to be amazing to see. Simply looking at her sitting next to you in her pink and blue bodysuit as well as her brand new knee-high boots made you loose your mind. 

Now the hazardous contraption meant to transport her unnoticed for the beginning of the show was another thing. 

‘’But babe what if you die in that thing? What am I going to tell the kids?’’ 

‘’Darling don’t be so dramatic,’’ Taylor says as she holds you against her, head over yours. ‘’Olivia, Meredith, Benjamin and Bailey will be okay. They’ll have their second mom with them if I die.’’ 

‘’TAYLOR!’’ 

‘’What? They love you more than me anyway! But seriously Charlie, I’ll be okay. I promise,’’ your soulmate kisses you on the nose and you finally relax. You know it’s a bit childish of you to worry about something like this, because no one on Taylor’s team would allow her to do something stupid and/or dangerous (you still had doubts). ‘’It’s just a cleaning cart, and look! There’s a blanket at the bottom, and I’ll be sitting on it the whole time. You can even walk next to it before they bring you to the tent, alright? You won’t get rid of me that easily.’’ 

‘’Tay I love you too much to even think about getting rid of you.’’ 

‘’Say that again?’’

‘’I love you Taylor, forever and always.’’ 

Taylor kisses you then, her lips taking control of yours, but before it can go further like it usually does when you’re alone together and your soulmate gets too into it, someone clears their throat behind you. You almost yank yourself away from Taylor but she keeps the kiss going for another ten second before she releases you with a smirk upon her face. 

‘’There, something to make you think of me for the next three and a half hours,’’ Taylor declares, giving you one last kiss on the cheek. She winks at you before she gets up and turns towards the redhead whom interrupted you. ‘’You couldn’t let me have this one moment with my soulmate did you?’’ 

‘’Taylor, you know as well as I do that you can’t miss your entrance, it’s the first night of your Tour, it must be perfect,’’ Tree, the woman of the hour, says as she waves at you. The publicist had made it clear at the very beginning of your relationship that she didn’t appreciate Taylor’s little stunt of not listening to her directives, but she was also smart enough to recognize that it was a little bit harsh to command the singer to stay away from you for months. Tree also quickly became one of your favorite people in the world, the main reason being that she was ready to ride at dawn for Taylor in the blink of an eye. ‘’Come on Taylor, get inside the damn cleaning cart. The sooner you get to the stage the sooner my headache will go away.’’ 

‘’Awww, are you saying I’m the solution to all your problems?’’ 

‘’You wish,’’ Tree rolls her eyes and turns to you. ‘’Your family is safe and waiting for you. Theo insisted that I tell you to hurry up, as he wants to ‘watch aunty TayTay singing on stage with aunty Charlie next to me or I’ll be mad at her forever’. I would do what he says, just to be sure.’’ 

You put your earplugs in your ear before anything else, observing with apprehension as Taylor gets in the cleaning cart. You’re able to see her smile up close one last time before one of her staff member closes the door and you’re all off. 

Outside, the sound is almost deafening. Despite your earplugs being in, you can still hear the thousands of fans screaming and singing along to the music that’s playing before Taylor gets on. Some of them notice you walking behind the cleaning cart, confused but happy to see you there nonetheless. You put a finger over your mouth, winking at them and pointing to the cleaning cart with your other hand, laughing as you hear quite a few Swifties shouting ‘’OH MY GOD TAYLOR! TAYLOR’S IN THERE YOU GUYS!’’. You did help them in figuring it out, but honestly how they guessed it so quick is incredible. 

Once you arrive behind the scene and away from prying eyes, Taylor finally gets out of her deathtrap. You swiftly jump onto her and the singer is all too pleased to let you do so, squeezing your backside as you wrap your legs around her waist. 

‘’You’re alive thank gods!’’ 

‘’Honestly you’re just being dramatic darling,’’ Taylor whispers against your neck, pressing her lips against your skin. You shiver as you feel the ghost of her tongue tracing a pattern up and down your neck, a pleasurable pain radiating from it as Taylor bites down on your skin. She reaches your lips and proceeds to give you one of her special breath stealing kiss, teeth trapping your lower lip as she lets you down from her. ’’Now off you go. If you look for me, I’ll be the one in the sparkly outfits!’’ 

‘’Love you Taylor!’’ 

‘’Love you too Charlie!’’ 

Tree rolls her eyes at you when you join her, acting like she’s horrified by your display of affection but you know she secretly loves seeing Taylor so happy with you. There is a clock on the giant screen when you walk out, and Tree starts cursing under her breath as she urges you on. The security guards around you keep people from getting too close as you get to the VIP tent, but a teenager with her hand held towards you catches your eye. She has her arms full of friendship bracelets, a new tradition from Taylor’s fans that you love, and when you lock eyes with her something clicks in your head. 

Despite Tree’s slight protest you go towards the exited teen, your own hand full of one of the many friendship bracelets Taylor helped you make. You hand it to her as she gives you one of hers, tears of happiness running down her face. 

‘’OH MY GOD THANK YOU! We love you so much!’’ The teen shouts, showing of her new bracelet to her friend next to her. ‘’Mia look! Oh my god thank you so much again! Exile is my favorite one from Folklore, how did you know?!’’ 

‘’Just a hunch,’’ you answer with a smile and a wink. You see her hesitantly looking down at her phone. ‘’Do you want a picture maybe? It’s okay if you do, we have approximately…a little more than one minute until Taylor comes out.’’ 

‘’YES PLEASE!’’ 

The picture gets taken, and when you hand the girl’s phone back to her you sneakily whisper in her ear. 

‘’Take care of that bracelet or Taylor will be very much upset you’ve lost one of her creation.’’ 

Tree drags you away with all her strength, the girl’s screams of surprise and joy still echoing in your ears as you reach yours and Taylor’s families. Andrea and Scott both give you a hug when they see you, quickly letting you go when you hear your best friend shouting your name. 

‘’BESTIE FINALLY! Where the heck were you?!’’ 

You go to answer Sam but your best friend quickly cuts you off, laughing as she points to your neck. 

‘’You know what? Forget I asked, it was a stupid question anyway,’’ Sam keeps laughing as your entire face turns red, acutely aware of Taylor’s parents watching over you and the apparent hickey on your neck. ‘’ALEX! You owe me fifty bucks for this! I told you she was late because they were fuck-‘’ 

‘’HUSH!’’ Try as you might, everyone in the VIP tent heard Sam. Even your own sister was laughing at you, the traitor. ‘’Must you always bet on us like that?’’ 

‘’What can I say? With these kinds of bets, I always win,’’ Sam answers with a wink, throwing her arm over your shoulder. She gives you a kiss on the cheek as she steers you towards your sister and the rest of your family. ‘’But you love me anyway Charlie. And Taylor does too, that’s why it’s easy to guess where you are and what you’re doing if you’re not with us.’’ 

‘’…are we really that predicable?’’ 

‘’Sweetie, you two were literally late for Christmas because Taylor couldn’t get her hands off of you,’’ you hear your mother say. She hugs you too, ruffling your hair in the process. ‘’She had her shirt inside out, and you were missing a sock.’’ 

‘’You were barely able to walk too.’’ 

‘’GET IT GIRL!’’ 

‘’SAM SHUT UP!’’ 

Suddenly the crowd goes wild and your eyes are inevitably drawn to the stage. The clock has reached its final seconds, and when it slowly disappears from the screen even you can’t help but share in everyone’s excitement. You hold your breath as the introduction starts, the dancers getting on stage with their gigantic colorful props. When one of them bends down with his giant prop touching the stage,  your heart skips a beat because you have a pretty good feeling about what’s about to happen. 

‘’GET IT AUNTY TAY TAY!’’ Theo screams when all the other dancers join the first one. His bright little mind apparently reached the same conclusion as you. ‘’I’m so excited!’’ 

Taylor appears on stage in her jaw-dropping bodysuit, capturing your heart all over again as she starts singing her seventh track of her seventh album. You must look like a fool as you stand there with tears running down your face, eyes glued upon your soulmate moving along to her own music. Everyone around you is either singing or dancing while your mind is still processing what it’s seeing. 

You’re perfectly aware of your family filming your reaction to the show, can even see some of the fans doing the same, yet the tears won’t stop. Months ago you were living a normal life, in your cozy little apartment with your cat and going to work everyday, hoping and praying that one day your soulmate would show up. 

And show up she did, stealing your body and soul as soon as she was able to get her hands on you. Taylor loves you, as you do her. 

‘’Aunty Charlie are you crying?’’ Theo’s little voice asks you when Taylor is done singing You Need To Calm Down. You feel your nephew’s arms wrap around your waist as your soulmate gets handed a pink guitar. ‘’Are you sad because aunty Tay Tay is far away from you?’’ 

‘’I’m very much happy right now Theo,’’ you answer as you take him in your arms. ‘’I know she’ll get back to me before the night ends, and this is very much important to her. Do you understand that sweet boy?’’ 

‘’I think…’’ 

Theo suddenly gets this mischievous little smile upon his face as he turns his eyes back on Taylor. 

‘’I think this night is very much important for aunty TayTay too.’’ 

‘’Of course it is Theo, it’s her first show of-‘’ 

‘’No! She wants to ask you to-humph!’’ 

Your sister is quick to cover your nephew’s mouth, glaring at him as if he was about to say something he shouldn’t. You get the feeling that it might as well be the case here, observing the way Robin is silently communicating with Theo. The little boy glances at Taylor on stage, then back at you, then once again at Taylor. 

‘’I’m sorry mommy, I almost ruined it.’’ 

You don’t linger on this much longer as you hear Taylor say your name. She’s playing some chords on her guitar and you can feel her eyes boring into you from all the way up there on stage. The huge screen at her back even has your blushing face displayed for the entire stadium to see. 

‘’I wrote this next song long before we met and I want the whole stadium…what am I saying, I want the whole world to know that from this moment and for the rest of our life I’ll sing it for you. Forever and always Charlie, remember?’’ 

The crowd goes wild again as Taylor sings the first lyrics to Lover but you’re still stuck on her very public declaration to you. Yes, she made a social media announcement about you two being together, yet somehow this right there felt like so much more. The whole time she keeps looking at you, her lips moving along to her lyrics, telling a story to the crowd while her eyes convey something of a deeper meaning to you. 

You don’t stop crying when The Archer starts, not even when Theo jumps into your arms at the beginning of the Fearless era part of the show, screaming along to the song of the same name. The only thing able to bring you back to your normal self is Taylor once again saying your name at the end of Love Story and blowing a kiss your way. 

‘’Are you feeling big feelings right now aunty Charlie?’’ 

‘’I-I think I am little man,’’ you whisper as you hug your nephew hard against you. Theo is holding onto you like a koala to its tree, little eyes jumping from you, to the stage, to the crowd and back to you again. ‘’I love her so much.’’ 

‘’Awww me too, I love her,’’ Theo admits, and you laugh. Your nephew starts playing with the bracelets around your wrists just as you recognize the first notes to Willow. ‘’Do you think I can sneak on stage with aunty TayTay?’’ 

‘’You could certainly try.’’ One glare from your sister makes you backtrack immediately. ‘’Although maybe that’s not such a good idea. There’s a lot of people on stage, you could fall and hurt yourself you know?’’ 

The rest of the show goes by and the more you see of Taylor performing, the more you think that your life and hers especially couldn’t get any better. You quite literally start drooling when the Reputation set starts, knees trembling all throughout …Ready For It?, admiring her red and black snake outfit. It sticks to her body like a second skin, and there comes a moment when your mind goes ‘’Damn, this would be a pain in the ass to get off of her…but so worth it.’’  and it must’ve shown on your face because the next thing you know Sam is smirking at you as her wife, Alex, keeps filming your face diligently. 

When Delicate comes the entire stadium shouts the iconic chant to the song, and you know it shouldn’t surprise you yet it did, because Theo shouts the words right along with everyone. Your nephew is gleefully laughing afterwards, singing and dancing along to the rest of the song. 

The transition between Don’t Blame Me and Look What You Made Me Do literally brings you to your knees. Taylor knows exactly what she’s doing, her electric blue eyes looking for you in the dark and smirking once she does find you. She moves this way and that, hitting high notes after high notes like it’s the easiest thing one could do in the world. 

Before you know it the Speak Now, Red, Folklore and 1989 sets are over. Your eyes are still glued upon the stage where Taylor disappeared, cheeks red and sweat dripping down your back from all the dancing you just did. However a frown is quick to appear on your face when you notice a group of security guards walking towards the VIP tent. 

‘’Andrea, do you know what’s happening?’’ You ask, confused. Taylor’s mother simply shrugs, acting like she is as clueless as you are. Yet you see it, the same glint in the older woman’s eyes that Taylor gets before she’s about to do something either stupid or completely mind-blowing. ‘’You know something. What is it?’’ 

‘’I’m not aware of anything.’’ 

‘’Come on, you’re just messing with me now and I just want to k-‘’ 

‘’Miss Walker? If you could follow us quickly,’’ one man amongst the security says as they stop in front of you. You just look at them with your eyes wide open, not knowing what to do with yourself. The man sighs. ‘’Please? The boss lady is waiting for you on stage.’’ 

‘’W-What for?’’ 

‘’We are not allowed to tell you, I’m sorry.’’ 

Damn you Taylor, trying to make me pass out aren’t you? 

You do as you’re told, but not before you try and fail to make your nephew let go of you. Theo stubbornly stays glued to your body when Robin tries to get him back, stating high and loud that he wants to stay with you or he’ll scream ‘bloody murder’. You just shake your head at your sister and make your way backstage. 

People put you on a platform to raise you up on the stage, not unlike Taylor for her 1989 set earlier. Your heart is beating wildly inside your ribcage, Theo squeezing you with all his might being the only reason you’ve not sent yourself into a full blown panic attack. 

‘’Welcome to the acoustic session!’’ 

The stadium erupts into more cheers if that was even possible. You’re able to hear your soulmate talk about this fun new little tradition that she decided to add for the Eras Tour, and before you know it the platform your nephew and you are on starts moving up. 

‘’Now before you hear the song I chose for you tonight, I actually have a very special guest coming here with me on stage! Would you mind giving a round of applause for my amazing soulmate Charlie? Yeah, come on!’’ 

There is a spotlight tracking your every move when you finally appear on stage, and as a reflex more than anything you turn your head away from the light as well as shield Theo’s eyes from it. 

‘’Well, it looks like we might be getting two special guests tonight!’’ Taylor says into her mic, watching as you stay rooted to your spot. ‘’Little man do you mind telling your aunt that she actually needs to stand before me if she wants her surprise?’’ 

‘’YES AUNTY TAYTAY!’’ Theo screams right into your ear. The stadium erupts into a chorus of ‘Awwwww’ as your nephew jumps down from you and proceeds to drag you towards Taylor. He makes you sit down on the piano stool before assaulting your soulmate with a hug around her waist. ‘’Look I did it TayTay! Are you proud of me?’’

‘’Of course I am Theo!’’ Taylor tells your nephew, ruffling his hair as her mouth nears her mic once again. Her eyes are on you through it all, even as she addresses the crowd. ‘’It’s been a long time since I played this one on the guitar, so I ask that you forgive me if I mess the lyrics up a little, yeah?’’ 

There’s a smirk and ten seconds of notes on the guitar later you immediately recognize the song even before the lyrics come. 

Our secret moments in your crowded room

They got no idea about me and you

There is an indentation in the shape of you

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

Taylor’s goddamn smirk is still on her face while yours turns red from her words. Theo is back at your side, clueless about the state you’re in and oblivious to the actual meaning of the song he’s singing along to. 

All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation

My hands are shaking from holding back from you

There are no words to describe what you feel right now. You’ve heard this one before, of course you did, but hearing it live compared to your home speakers are two completely different experiences. 

Say my name and everything just stops

I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off

Carve your name into my bedpost

'Cause I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off

To be fair she did buy you a gorgeous dress a few days ago, and she did take it off of you…

Inescapable, I'm not even gonna try

And if I get burned, at least we were electrified

I'm spilling wine in the bathtub

You kiss my face and we're both drunk

Everyone thinks that they know us

But they know nothing about

Oh you were definitely going to tell her both of your families are perfectly aware that you were late to Christmas because Taylor was too busy doing…well, you. 

"How'd we end up on the floor anyway?" You say

"Your roommate's cheap-ass screw-top rosé, that's how"

I see you every day now

Did she just-? 

And I chose you

The one I was dancin' with

In New York, no shoes

Looked up at the sky and it was

Yes she did. Even your earplugs couldn’t save you from the deafening sounds of the stadium recognizing the mashup for what it was, Dress x Maroon. You still don’t know why Taylor wanted you on stage for this, yet you’re grateful that you get to experience it from up close. A part of you also wonders if Taylor planned this just to see the blush rising on your face in front of all these people. 

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was

The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones

The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon

Taylor turns to the crowd, winking to a few of her fans as she continues singing. Her ever permanent trademark smirk upon her face lets you know she’s perfectly aware of your current state. You have this big smile on your face with a hand over your heart, your other unoccupied hand playing with the necklace Taylor gifted you all those months ago. 

And I wake with your memory over me

That's a real fucking legacy

There is an indentation in the shape of you

You made your mark on me, golden tattoo

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

And I…

You did not realize but Taylor had this tiny black mic-like thing attached to her dress. How did you notice it? 

Your eyes were simply unashamedly checking out your soulmate as she was now walking over to you, talented hands continuing to play the guitar. Theo was especially squirmy at your side, jumping up and down as Taylor got closer to you. 

In your mind your soulmate would just sit down next to you as she finishes her song, it certainly looked like it. And yet… 

Taylor kneels to the floor right in front of you and the entire world stops. 

Love you to the moon and to Saturn 

You could hear a pin drop as the whole stadium waited in anticipation for Taylor’s next move, all watching as she put her guitar down on the floor and reached inside a hidden pocket on her dress. Taylor was steady on her knee as she retrieved what she was looking for, a tiny red velvet box. 

Her eyes once again upon you, Taylor smiles as she notices the wonderstruck look on your face. It doesn’t escape her that you have yet to say a single word. But maybe that’s just it, because she knows sometimes you find yourself incapable of uttering a single word, brain thinking ten thousand miles a minutes while your mouth refuses to relay your thoughts. 

And that’s okay, because your soulmate knows. She always does. 

‘’I know when one has to ask this very specific and important question, there is technically this whole speech that you have to prepare, but I find myself thinking that I don’t even need one,’’ Taylor says as she opens the tiny box containing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. You briefly glance at it, tearful eyes quickly going back to your soulmate’s face. ‘’Us two are inevitable. We are soulmates, destined to spend the rest of our lives together. You’re the best thing that’s ever been mine, so why not make it official? Would you make me the happiest person on earth and be my wife?’’ 

Tears immediately go down your cheeks. You want to move, do something, literally anything to make Taylor understand that your answer is very much in the positive. But your body betrays you, staying still with this gobsmacked look upon your face. 

Theo doesn’t seem to be able to wait any longer than is strictly necessary, as before you know it your nephew is shaking your body like a leaf. 

‘’Aunty Charlie stop gay panicking for aunty Taylor and answer her!’’ 

‘’YEAH! What the little boy said!’’ 

‘’Come on say yes!’’ 

‘’Don’t let her get away from you!’’ 

‘’Get a grip and marry her!’’ 

‘’You two love each other!’’ 

‘’BLOODY SAY YES WOMAN!’’ 

Taylor ever so gently puts her hand over your cheek, gently wiping some of your tears away with her thumb. She looks into your eyes, electric blues searching for what she is sure to find. Her hand stills at your neck and it is only then that you find enough strength to nod, if only a little. 

Relief surges through your soulmate as she stands up, dragging you with her, and before all Taylor kisses you with everything that she has. You gasp as her tongue invades your mouth, surrendering yourself over to your one true love like you’ve done it the millions of times before then. Taylor’s hand grasps your thigh to get you to come closer to her, the need to feel you right up against her higher than it ever was before. 

Before long and at your own protest, Taylor lets you go with a last searing kiss on your lips. Your legs are barely able to support your own body when the singer sits down at her piano stool and make you straddle her. Gently, as if you were the most precious thing on earth, Taylor carefully slides the ring on your finger. 

‘’You can’t get rid of me now darling,’’ Taylor whispers to you. She grins as you laugh, hiding your face in the crook of her neck. ‘’Thank you for loving me Charlie, I could never be myself without you.’’ 

‘’You’re the Queen of my Heart, how could I ever let you go?’’ 

No matter what people thought about you, no matter what others might think about you, because in this moment nothing was more important. The world could burn for all you cared, and as Taylor kisses you once again in front of her sold-out stadium, you know you would do anything for her. As she would for you. 

You are her beginning, as she is your ending. 

a/n: so there it is, the ending of my pride and joy, my baby, the story my friend waited weeks to know the ending of (started writing it mid April of this year and finished it early July). Hope you enjoyed! (I know I did)

[buddie-month]

Fan Work Masterpost (AUGUST 2024)

Week One: Mistakes were Made

Fanfiction:

@xjustlikeyou (AO3 : xjustlikeyou) || AO3 link: You Might Have Noticed || 8.3k || 1/1 Chapters || Explicit || Tumblr Post: here

@smolfunpenguin (AO3: DuoOfDiaz) || AO3 link: World of the Living || 8k || 4/4 Chapters || Teen || Tumblr Post: here

@snprblu72 || (AO3: Sniper_Blue) || AO3 link: Loose Glitter || 1.2k || 1/1 Chapters || Teen ||

@donationwayne (AO3: donationwayne) || AO3 link: this could be a disaster || 15.9k || 11/11 Chapters || Teen || Tumblr Post: here | Twitter Post: here

@unlifeira (AO3: EiraLloyd) || AO3 link: let's get real || 13.3k || 4/4 Chapters || Teen || Tumblr Post: here

@smolfunpenguin (AO3: DuoOfDiaz) || AO3 link: Three is the Magic Number || 3.3k || 1/3 Chapters || Mature || Tumblr Post: here

@linus-lucy (AO3: Linus_Lucy) || AO3 link: Kiss Me In Sweet Slow Motion || 2.4k || 1/1 Chapters || Teen || Tumblr Post: here

@disasterbuck: (AO3: DistasterBuck) || Tumblr Post: Mistakes Were Made || 100 words ||

@unlifeira (AO3: EiraLloyd) || AO3 link: Mistakes Will Be Made || 5.5k || 1/1 Chapters || Teen || Tumblr Post: here

@illburnyouontheceiling || (AO3: BaconOfUnity) || AO3 link: The Love You Gave Me (Nothing Else Can Save Me) || 7.7k || 1/1 Chapters || Not Rated

Fan Art: N/A

_________________________

Week Two: Couch

Fanfiction:

@xjustlikeyou (AO3 : xjustlikeyou) || AO3 link: Too Often the Power of Touch is Underestimated || 15.3k || 6/6 Chapters || Teen

@linus-lucy (AO3: Linus_Lucy) || AO3 link: Never Let You Go || 1.8k || 1/1 Chapters || Teen || Tumblr Post: here

@donationwayne (AO3: donationwayne) || AO3 link: obsessed with the things that you do, low-key I need you to move (in) || 27.8k || 9/9 Chapters || Teen || Tumblr Post: here

@snprblu72 || (AO3: Sniper_Blue) || AO3 link: Finishing The Patio || 1k || 1/1 Chapters || General Audience

@unlifeira (AO3: EiraLloyd) || AO3 link: Picking A Couch || 6.8k || 4/4 Chapters || Teen

@illburnyouontheceiling || (AO3: BaconOfUnity) || AO3 link: I got myself in a mess (and without you I'm in more) || 6.7k || Chapters 1/1 || Not Rated

@smolfunpenguin (AO3: DuoOfDiaz) || AO3 link: A Good Couch is Hard to Find || 10.1k || 5/5 Chapters || Teen

@disasterbuck: (AO3: DistasterBuck) || Tumblr Post: that's my couch || 100 words ||

@unlifeira (AO3: EiraLloyd) || AO3 link: Ruin Your Couch || 7.4k || 1/1 Chapters || Teen || Tumblr Post: here

Fan Art:

@unlifeira (AO3: EiraLloyd) || AO3 link: Couch || Tumblr Post: here & here

_________________________

Week Three: "What have I done?"

Fanfiction:

@donationwayne (AO3: donationwayne) || AO3 link: come on, you can show yourself || 8.7k || 1/1 Chapters || Mature || tumblr post:

@xjustlikeyou (AO3 : xjustlikeyou) || AO3 link: It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything || 148.4k || 15/15 Chapters || Mature

@snprblu72 || (AO3: Sniper_Blue) || AO3 link: A Salt And Bat Three, Metaphorically || 1.7k || 1/1 Chapters || General Audience @smolfunpenguin (AO3: DuoOfDiaz) || AO3 link: Tell Me All The Things || 1.5k || 1/1 Chapters || Mature

@unlifeira (AO3: EiraLloyd) || AO3 link: Not Maddie || 100 Words || 1/1 Chapters || Teen ||

@illburnyouontheceiling || (AO3: BaconOfUnity) || AO3 link: All This Time I've Wasted (You Were Right There All Along) || 2.4k || 1/1 Chapters || General Audience

@illburnyouontheceiling || (AO3: BaconOfUnity) || AO3 link: Would You Rescue Me (When I'm By Myself) @linus-lucy (AO3: Linus_Lucy) || AO3 link: how'd it take a long long time to be here || 2.5k || 1/1 Chapters || Teen || Tumblr Post: here || @disasterbuck: (AO3: DistasterBuck) || Tumblr Post: what have i done - drabble || 100 words ||

@smolfunpenguin (AO3: DuoOfDiaz) || AO3 link: It Feels Like Home || 13k || 4/4 Chapters || Mature || Tumbr post: here

@unlifeira (AO3: EiraLloyd) || AO3 link: the phone keeps ringing || 7.7k || 5/5 Chapters || Teen

Fan Art:

@unlifeira (AO3: EiraLloyd) || AO3 link: What Have I Done? || Tumblr Post: here

_________________________

Week Four: Baking

Fanfiction:

@unlifeira (AO3: EiraLloyd) || AO3 link: Flour || 100 Words || Chapters 1/1 || General

@snprblu72 || (AO3: Sniper_Blue) || AO3 link: Spark Plugs v Cookies || 1.4k || Chapters 1/1 || Teen @xjustlikeyou (AO3 : xjustlikeyou) || AO3 link: cookies are the sweetest lil bit of comfort || 5.8k || Chapters 1/1 || Mature @linus-lucy (AO3: Linus_Lucy) || AO3 link: I Knead You || 2.6k || Chapters 1/1 || General @unlifeira (AO3: EiraLloyd) || AO3 link: Sweetheart (you look a little tired) || 14.5k || Chapters 6/6 || Teen @illburnyouontheceiling || (AO3: BaconOfUnity) || AO3 link: Who Are We (To Fight The Alchemy) || 1.5k || Chapters 1/1 || General @smolfunpenguin (AO3: DuoOfDiaz) || AO3 link: Bake it 'til you Make it || 4.5k || Chapters 1/1 || Mature

@illburnyouontheceiling || (AO3: BaconOfUnity) || AO3 link: Birthday Wishes || 100 words || Chapters 1/1 || Not Rated

@disasterbuck || (AO3: DistasterBuck) || Tumblr Post: sun-baking || 100 Words

Fan Art: N/A

[regulusblackslover]

The Whispers will be our Undoing

Regulus Black x FtM Reader x ???

Chapter I

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV

Summary: The strange curiosity of a muggle born wizard terrible at most magic and Regulus Black of the everlasting house of Black as well as another tragic face fall in love and overcome the challenges of the Wizarding world

Read TW’s and Author Note Here

Word Count: 1.175k

Regulus Black had sworn to never love, not after he so desperately watched his parents hate each other to the point where their hate spread to him and his brother. And it didn’t help Regulus’ mind that his brother had abandoned him for some boy who didn’t even reciprocate his affections. With that Regulus had despised the shows of affection he received, being in his 4th year of Hogwarts he had received countless love letters, confessions, and the endless abundance of stares with giggles. To say he hated it was an understatement, each letter he burned with “Confringo” and each confession he scoffed and mocked the speaker till they in most cases ran away crying or furiously stomped away. As for the stares he couldn’t do much about it but it helped to be friends with fellow slytherins and those of pure-blood supremacy which he did not stand for but at least spared him from his parents disappointment. He had even made it to advanced potions and professor slughorn's infamous slug club. While none of his friends, which had been a small number, had made it into the slug club with him, he had at least two acquaintances of which there was Severus Snape who was a year above him and Theodore Nott who was in his year. As well as the unfortunate presence of Lucius Malfoy who he had a strong intolerance for but kept it to himself out of fear for the male. Then there was you, he had hardly noticed you at first not until there had been a debate on Gamp’s Laws of Elemental Transfiguration and the argument that was being presented and debated forgot a crucial piece of information in which it was so niche that none of them had noticed until you had spoken up. You neutrally yet somehow confidently pointed out the crucial fact causing Malfoy to scoff and further deliberation take place. That is the first time Regulus had noticed you. From there you seemed to pop up everywhere from in the Slytherin common room to his charms class, to Defence against the Dark Arts, to potions. Regulus didn’t mind your presence but just felt it was odd and so he started to observe you. He noticed how you rarely talked to anyone, only a couple words with Severus Snape who seemed at least like a friend to you but on a very low level. Furthermore he had noticed your lack of magical ability, your tremendous lack of magical ability to his surprise, you could barely cast a spell, yet you were a genius in magical theory and excelled in magical creatures and potions. You were an enigma to Regulus Black. So much to a point that he slowly decided to move closer to you. It first started by him moving across from you in potions, scaring away some Gryfindor who had been flirting with you, it then led to him making brief small strictly occasional conversation at the slug club meetings. Months had passed and he slowly crept closer to you. He had found out a couple things, one you were born to muggles and were from a strictly muggle line the first wizard in your family, two you had wanted to work at the ministry of magic and revolutionise their way of interacting with muggles and work to undermine pure-blood supremacy and then retire to be a professor he then saw what made you a slytherin, three you had a pet kneezale that you had disguised as a cat and affectionately called Link who was very protective over you and seemed to be in love with Regulus, and four you had loved to read into the depths of the night below the glowing windows of the slytherin common room. And Regulus had learned one thing about himself and that was that he loved to be in your presence. 

You and Regulus had formed a habit of sorts every sunday night at midnight when most of the Slytherin house was sleeping off their drunkenness from their weekend partying, you and Regulus would meet up in the common room and sit in the pair of chairs in the farthest corner that's only light came from the large church light windows that glowed. Then you would read you each had your respective book and you would sit in silence enjoying the others company and your novels. What either of you failed to realise is that sometimes one of you would stop reading, your eyes wandering to the other and a stare that could only be described as one filled with fondness watching the others slight reactions but moreover you would snap back to your own book. What neither of you would acknowledge is the fact that either of you only got through a couple of chapters when both of you knew you could easily get through full novels during that time. 

From there you slowly talked more, of course only in places in which you both would go unnoticed so as to not ruin his reputation(your words not his). Places such as the furthest corner of the library, and small notes during classes became your sanctuary. Soon enough you considered him a friend and a close one at that. Many times while his friends would choose to go to Hogsmeade he would lie claiming he had unfinished homework or other various tasks of course his friends were unconvinced that the Regulus Black was behind but they let it slide anyway. Those times you could freely walk around Hogwarts as it was a ghost town that's when the two of you got to rejoice. You got to spend the majority of the day together and neither of you had any objection to it.

Regulus was always astounded by you, you who were so mortal that he feared everyday you would shatter and you would be snuffed out. He was raised in the noble house of Black, he lived in the Noble house of Black, and there they believed in immortality, that they were better than mortals, by the will of their pure blood and being a wizard they were not bound to the same laws of time and death which was true in many many ways. Afterall many great wizards lived past the average muggle lifespan but you, you who were from muggle parents, were terrible with magic, and had no interest in living longer than nature intended you to( a conversation that made Regulus infuriated). For those reasons you seemed to Regulus the definition of mortal and for that he feared for you as what he deemed from a friends perspective. You however were astounded by Regulus, the boy who had such warmth and love but who acted quite frankly like a cold hearted prick who couldn’t give a damn about anyone. You feared that the light that shone from him may be snuffed out at the hands of the society he was a part of. Of course this is what you believed from a friend's perspective.

Thank you for reading <3