#evermore wasn't as good but still good

[jellogram]

Oh god I just realized we are less than one month away from a new Taylor Swift album. I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

[foxstens]

the scene where kevin finds out about the district change is endlessly fascinating to me

[hgfictionwriter]

Firsts

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: You and Jessie experience a first together in bed. If Jessie feels smug about it, who can blame her?

Warnings: Smut. Squirting, fingering, oral, language.

A/N: Quick little smut fic based on this request.

"Oh my god," you whimpered as your body writhed beneath Jessie.

She had your legs spread as she held herself over you, her mouth sensually kissing, sucking and nipping at your neck, her thumb pleasuring your clit and two fingers curling inside of you stroking your sweet spot again and again.

The sounds in the room were intoxicating. She'd been teasing you all night, so by the time she actually gave you what you wanted, you were dripping and the sounds of her fingers moving in and out of you made no secret of that. Your needy whimpers and moans were constant and her hot and heavy breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine.

Her attention to you was relentless. The more you moaned and gasped, the more she gave you. Her body rocked over you, accentuating the firm, skillful thrusts she made. Your fingers clawed into the muscles of her back and she groaned appreciatively.

"You look so fucking good underneath me, baby," she said, voice husky and low. It pulled another eager moan from you and you subconsciously spread your legs wider to invite her in evermore.

"Mm, yes, baby. Right where I belong, between your legs and letting you know how much I need you," she went on as she rocked deeper into you, curling her fingers into you with greater intensity.

Jessie groaned on top of you. "God, I could stay inside you forever. I love making you feel good. Nothing is better."

Your moans rose in pitch and you felt an immense heat and tension building between your legs as she continued to stimulate every part of you.

Then, you felt a sensation that wasn't quite like anything you'd experienced before. You felt yourself tighten, but this time you felt yourself gush onto her fingers. The moment the sensation passed, your eyes snapped open and you stilled. Jessie had slowed and was watching you wide-eyed.

"Um," you said, uncertain of what happened or what to say.

Jessie glanced down to where she was still inside of you and when she glanced up she was blushing, but wore a wide, open mouth grin across her face.

"What," you said both in trepidation and defense, face heating up.

"Nothing," she said stifling her smile. Her mouth was now tight as she cocked her head. "Just seems like you enjoyed yourself."

"Oh my God," you whined as you covered your face with your hands. A moment later you peeked out and looked at the sheets. Your eyes grew wide at the sight of wetness spread out across the sheets and pooling in her palm. "Oh my God," you repeated in a borderline trembling voice as you laid back again, covering your face once more. You shook your head mildly. "That's never happened before."

"Baby," Jessie said softly though she couldn't mask a light laugh. She removed her fingers from you and leaned in to give you a sweet, long kiss on the cheek. "It's okay. It's not a bad thing at all."

"I'm so embarrassed," you said, still covering your face.

"Babe," she repeated. "Please. You don't need to be embarrassed," she went on as she kissed your face around your hands.

"Then why are you blushing!" You asked, drawing your hands down to look at her in question. Her face reddened further and she stammered slightly before answering.

"I've never made a girl...you know," she said, her voice low as she glanced away. "I mean, I've heard of it and all. But yeah."

"Oh good," you said flatly as you hid again.

"Hey," she protested gently as she nudged your hand away with her face, you grumbling though you acquiesced and she kissed you further. "I love it. It's so hot."

"Mm," you mumbled, still far from convinced.

"Seriously," she insisted, her tone changing, a flirty lilt in it now as she slowly rocked her body against yours again. "Knowing I made you squirt? Fuck, babe. Just when I thought sex between us couldn't get hotter."

"Mm," you grumbled a bit more, though her voice and movements were quickly causing your walls to drop. She began kissing your neck and running her fingers through your very slick folds; you bit back a moan.

"Knowing I'm your first, too," she said before exhaling dreamily against you. "That's so sexy. I can't express it." She dug the fingers of her free hand into your hips. "I want more." She continued to stroke your slit, fingers sliding easily and you felt her grin against you. "And I think you do, too."

Renewed heat and tension was already building in your core and you grasped her chin, guiding her up until you were kissing each other greedily again.

"You're so cocky, hm?" You said into the kiss though you rocked your hips against her fingers. She smiled smugly into the kiss and began rubbing your clit again.

"I can't help it. You try being a little less sexy next time you cum and squirt all over my fingers, and I'll try being a little less cocky," she teased. You bit her bottom lip and she groaned. "I'm here for you, baby. I'm responsible for this sexy, sexy mess. So I should clean it up."

A low moan escaped you as she started kissing down your body until she was settled with her head between your legs.

Despite everything, a small frown settled on your face. "Do you want me to move over?"

"Mm mm," she denied immediately and firmly. "I'm exactly where I want to be."

To prove her point, she took your lips into mouth, kissing them slowly, her tongue tracing along them as she did so. She let out the faintest chuckle at the sounds of your hands digging into the sheets.

"Jess," you complained, though you gently bucked your hips up into her face.

"Sorry, baby," she said with a smile in her voice, kissing your lips further. "I just get so high off of how you get for me."

Any protest you had was immediately forgotten as her head tilted into you and her tongue stretched out your entrance. A soft moan left you as she began to greedily lap up all of your juices, moaning deep in her throat as she did so.

The way she was rocking her face into you, the hungry sounds she made as she devoured you, the way her fingers dug into your thighs and pulled you closer, it left no room for you to debate whether she wanted to be down there or not.

Your mouth fell agape as she entered you with two fingers as she sucked on your clit. The sensation was amazing as she began to curl them into your g-spot once again.

It wasn't long before tension started to mount inside of you. That heat from earlier began to build once more. You blinked your eyes open.

"Jess. I-I might...," you started, struggling to find your words.

She moaned against you and began to curl into your g-spot furthermore.

A cry fell from your lips and your fingers clawed into the bed, clutching the sheets as you felt yourself release. You bucked up into her mouth and she met you with equal fervour.

When you relaxed onto the bed, Jessie continued to slowly lap at you and kiss your lips tenderly like she had before. Eventually, she pulled back, eyes down and affixed to the sheets as she quickly wiped her chin. Her eyes lit up.

"Fuck." You merely said. She beamed at you.

"Mm, babe. I think I've found my new favourite thing."

[madwomansapologist]

doubt comes in | bg3 companions

Meet Kind!Druid!Tav | More Weirdos | AO3

synopsis: You knew exactly what would welcome you back to camp. The alluring smell of Gale's cooking, the awful noises of Lae'zel working on a sword that don't need to be sharpened, Wyll practicing his dance moves. You clearly weren't expecting to see yourself. Or to be forced into fighting the companions you swore to never harm in order to prove Orin was playing with their minds. [3.4K]

warnings: orin being orin. well, you, actually. "prove who's the real you" trope. i mean imagine the level of anxiety that scenario induces because you want me to act like me? kitten, mommy don't fucking know who she is. bg3 level of violence. a lot of blood. body horror should be a tag? tav suffers slashing damage, but orin suffers psychic damage. angst. happy ending. shadowheart x tav x halsin. companions (lae'zel, astarion, gale, wyll, karlach, jaheira, minsc). camp followers (yenna, scratch, grub). background (orin, gortash, mizora, shar, cazador, silvanus).

Reaching Baldur's Gate didn't made life easier, but Gods did it helped. Danger is near, sometimes closer than a kiss, but this city is still your home. They can try, but no one can take that away from any of you.

Mizora can bargain and dissemble, but no lie coming from her burning lips will ever change the fact Wyll would do anything for this city. He had his first kiss in one of those bars. Gortash is a threat, but did he started counting his days? Karlach is coming for him, and he had it coming. She can still remember the vinegar taste on her mouth after her first spree.

Shar had her time to mess with Shadowheart's memories, to turn goodness into fear and desires into guilty. Shadowheart is learning how to swin. Long ago, before Cazador could even think of looking at him, Astarion walked on those streets. Cazador can see him as a walking corpse if he so desire, something that fell into decay, but Astarion is alive and free forever and evermore.

The world is a freaking mess, but so be it. That won't stop you from living. That won't stop any of you.

"Soldier! Over here," Karlach called for you, up on The Blushing Mermaid's balcony. You dodged the drunkards and ran upstairs to their table. They saved a seat for you. They always do. "What took you so long?"

They're always teasing you for being so controlling with their gold. That was an act of survival, to save for what matters, but now that you reached the city... You're still controlling it, Silvanus knows Astarion would waste it all without noticing, but you can allow your party some luxury from time to time.

You put the bags under the table, careful to not let them see what was inside them. "Just lost track of time," you sat between her and Minsc. "Did I miss much?"

You turned around, looking for a waiter, but a glass was dragged from across the table towards you. Halsin, sitting across from you at the round table, had already ordered your favorite drink. He always knows what you want even before you say it.

Your smile was subtle, the glass already rising to hide your mouth. You didn't use words to thank him, but your foot met his under the table. You dragged it along his leg, a hidden affection. A secret between you two.

"Oh, yes, Boo. Minsc agrees, her smile really seens different," Minsc whispered. Boo moved on his shoulder, sniffing around. "What are you hiding, my gentle friend?"

Perfume of night orchids, clothes fit for a vampire or whatever Astarion means by that, a recently released tome of evocation, instruments to improve weapons, a music box for a dancing hero, owlbear cub plush, new whittling knifes, a book about adventures Jaheira wasn't part of but is still somehow the main character, and stone sculpture of a certain miniature giant space hamster. "Nothing," you answered.

Halsin chuckled. "There is nothing you can't do, my heart. Except by lying, I must add."

"I just bought a few presents," it sounded almost defensive. Alright, maybe you really were a bit too controlling of the gold. Just a bit. "I'll give them after dinner."

Karlach chocked on her beer. "Are you feeling well, soldier? Have anyone forced you to waste your precious gold?"

"There is a hero coming through to help you, my friend," Minsc hit the table with closed fists. Your drink almost fell on your lap. "Tell Minsc who forced you and his boot shall find your wrongdoer!"

Karlach and Minsc tried to see what were in the bags during the walk back to camp, and you protected them with your life. They started a game of guessing what you had bought, never realizing you weren't participating on it.

Halsin took the bags from you, and with his free hand caressed yours. He kissed your knuckles, then your forehead. You melted against his touch. "Is it duck related?"

You chuckled, eyes still closed. "Fuck off, Bear."

Finally at camp, Halsin followed you to your tent .You saw when Wyll walking out of his tent, hair dripping wet, and smiled at him. Karlach and Minsc sat by the bonfire, still arguing about the possibility of receiving an ax as a gift.

You told Halsin to close his eyes so you could hide everything. "Alright, done."

You walked towards the bonfire, but Halsin grabbed your hand and pulled you closer. You linked your arms around his neck, ready to stand on tiptoe. "It's on your black chest, isn't it?"

You sighed, walking away from him. He tried to stop you, but you dodged Halsin easily. "Of course not," you lied. And he could tell.

You used a branch to stir the fire. You had the feeling it would be a cold night. Yenna was near it, stroking Grub's fur, and smiled at you. So young, so innocent. So unfair.

Lae'zel and Jaheira carried pans with food to the large table Gale conjured, and nodded on your direction. "Fifteen minutes, cub," said Jaheira. "Weren't you on watch?"

You denied with a movement of your head. Jaheira isn't the one to get confused with watches, neither are you. After all, you both organized all shifts.

"Are you hungry?" You stroke Yenna's hair, ignoring Grub in order to not scare him away. Kneeled in front of her, you threw the branch far away. Scratch ran to catch it. "I have strawberry and hon..."

"What the fuck is that?!"

You turned to Karlach, your sword suddenly so heavy on your side. She looked perfectly fine. Following her gaze, you understood it.

Shadowheart had her spear on hands, back from first watch to supper. And besides her, with a hand on the half-elf's waist, stood you.

One thing you can't deny Orin: that bitch is creative. You admit, it was smart. Half of the party left with you, half stayed at camp. It was only a matter of chosing the right moment to appear, making sure to say only the right words, and everything would work on her favor.

Smart, until she wasn't anymore. Because instead of aiming your companions quietly without raising doubts, you are back now. She is surrounded by the enemy. Cornered by her own actions.

You smiled to Yenna, her scared eyes shone upon you. "I need you to close your eyes. Can you do that for me?" As she put her tiny hands in front of her face, you raised from the floor. The smile was still there. "Orin."

She was behind you, but you knew Karlach made Nyrulna find a way to her hands. He's not on your vision field, but you promise Silvanus you'll kill yourself right then and there if Minsc and Boo aren't ready to fight and die beside you. The golden light on your periphery in theory could be from anything, but you knew it was Halsin waiting for your command to transform and attack.

The things you couldn't see didn't surprised you. Quite the opposite.

Jaheira's eyes shone, and without hesitation she turned into a fire myrmidion. Wyll, before careless, casted an armor on himself. Lae'zel had her sword on her back, but her movements showed she was nothing but ready.

They were looking at you.

As easy as that you understood. You're always thinking on the great scheme of things, careful about every movement and choice so at the end nothing will stop you from defeating the Absolute, but this isn't a game of Go. Orin didn't proposed a bet, one where all moves matter and any choice could change the final outcome. No. This is as simple as tic-tac-toe. The results depends only on doing the right first movement.

Orin isn't surrounded here.

You are.

Shadowheart hesitated, the spear uncomfortable on her hands, her skin paler. She gazed at you, at that thing, and you could almost see the doubt replacing the new found glow in her eyes.

"You finally decided to show up again," Orin said. She could immitate your voice perfectly. Even the words were something that could've been said by you. "Now we don't need to hunt you down."

You kept on staring at Shadowheart, ignoring her stained words. "Lua, you know who I truly am." You drew your sword, the golden glow illuminating your face within the light of the setting sun. "Fight beside me, my love. Like you have always done."

"Don't fall for her theatrics," replied Orin. If you didn't knew better, even you would fall for her tricks. "She is playing with your mind. Trying to control it like many attempt to before. Don't allow it."

In a quick motion, her spear cut through Orin's torso. Orin, you, stumbled back. You stood in front of Shadowheart, protecting her with your body from the changeling's response.

All Orin did was to add pressure to the cut. "Get away from her!" A necrotic energy came from her fingers, the same you are so used to control. You shouldn't have left your shield on your tent. "My love, she'll only hurt you."

Jaheira aimed at you, lava dripping from her transformed hand, but didn't attack because of how close Shadowheart was of you. Karlach got further away, now with a better view of camp. Minsc had his sword in hands, just as Wyll had a cloud of darkness aiming at him. Lae'zel was in front of Orin, eyes filled with determination.

They moved faster than you wanted to. The board getting new possibilities, and you worst problems to deal with. What strategy can overpower hers?

"On sight, soldier," Karlach screamed from distance. You could picture the spear on her hands, ready to be throw right in Orin's eyes. "One word."

"Ckh. Enough," ordered Lae'zel. "Pull yourself together before I pull you apart."

"That changeling is playing tricks with your mind, Lae'zel," said Shadowheart. Light came from her fingers. "Don't let her fool you."

"I know my leader," was her response. "You should know too, cleric."

"Can't any of you see her true goal?" Your voice echoed through the camp. "She isn't just trying to end me. She could've done this before, we all now she had chances. Orin wants you to fight one another, to break our bonds and divide us. Stay still, stay alert, and she won't have a choice but to end her disguise and attack with her own claws. Patience: that's the only thing she does not have."

With the noise, Gale and Astarion came out of the kitchen. "Who is..." Astarion didn't even had time to finish.

"It's me," you yelled. You had even forgot about them. Just more players for a game that should be won alone. "For Silvanus, I even said goodbye to each and every of you befo..."

You swear you saw a smirk on your duel's face. She fooled you too. "You fucking bitch."

You barely had closed your mouth when red strings of energy passed right beside you. Shadowheart's illuminated fingers were surrounded by darkness now. Gale's work, you knew.

"She is right," Lae'zel's words made you breath easier. It was more than just a smart move, it was a great plan, but Orin won't suceed for a very simple reason: her main goal is to hurt, and yours is to prevent it. Lae'zel stepped closer, her longsword in hands and eyes on Orin. "The wizard shouldn't have aimed at the Shadowheart, neither was she supposed to fight."

A sign of trust coming from her of all people could convince them all. Lae'zel cares, deeply, and wouldn't do something without being sure of it. You glared at the others, hoping Lae'zel's words had calmed them down. And it did. Their eyes were softer towards you. But those weren't the eyes you should've been watching closely.

You didn't saw when she moved. Didn't noticed the smell of danger floating on the air so near you. Didn't heard anything that would've warned you to defend yourself.

But you felt as Lae'zel rip your chest apart.

So much blood. You never would've guessed a mortal vessel could carry so much blood. It stained the silver, dripping from the longsword, splashed her face. It ran down your body, penetrated the ground and its roots, fed the plants..

Red. It was all you could see. All you could think about. Your lungs only had space for it. They burned. Your trembling hands moved towards your ripped belly, your insides staining them, and held the sword. It cut your palms.

"Bloodlust won't solve our problems," someone said. You knew that voice. Was it yours? Lae'zel forced the sword down, then pulled it out of you. "The changeling's is all we need to spill."

You were on your knees. Did you fell? Were you kicked? Are you praying? You must be. You probably were. Who do you pray to? Have you ever prayed before?

Kneeled beside you, a woman talked to you. Her mouth moved, a red liquid dripping from her face and hands. Her touch was warm. She felt like home. Shadowheart. Her eyes reflected a golden light, but they dissapeared so quickly.

"Let me go!" She tried to fight Lae'zel's hold, but the warrior was stronger. "She'll die because of you. She'll die and I will never ever forgive you for that, you damned gith!" The screams turned into cries. "She saved me, let me save her!"

"It's me," the doppelgander said. She held Shadowheart by the cheeks, trying to get her to calm down. "Lua, love, it's me. Just me."

"Get out of me," Shadowheart spat on her face. Lae'zel pushed her away, trying to prevent Shadowheart from doing something she would regret. "Why no one here listen to me?!"

"Stop squirming," Lae'zel hissed. "Look into her eyes. Look and tell me you don't see our leader."

Shadowheart eventually stopped fighting, her body exausted from crying. The changeling was in front of her, you were in front of her. She smelled like you. Talked like you. Felt like you.

"Is that really you?"

"Of course it's me," lied Orin. "Please, look into my eyes. We were together all day. You know I haven't left camp. Please, please, trust me."

Spikes grew, surrounding Orin. She hissed, the ivy twining around her legs and tearing the skin open. Halsin were throw to the ground before he could end the healing spell.

"Halsin!" Shadowheart screamed. She almost escaped Lae'zel's hold. "No!"

"She was with us all day, Halsin," Wyll said as he paralised the druid. "We know it's her. Don't fight back."

That didn't stop Karlach from throwing her spear near the Blade's feet. "You fucking idiot!"

Mizora clapped, enjoying the show.

Jaheira burned Mizora before losing her wild shape. She will come back, she always does, but that never stops Jaheira. At least they will have some moments of respect.

She wandered towards Minsc. He kneeled on the floor, and for a moment she feared something happened to him when she wasn't paying attention.

"She told me not open my eyes," cried Yenna. "I can't open they yet. She told me not to."

"Have you ever seen my miniature giant space hamster?" Yenna didn't react to him. "No, Boo, she nee..."

Jaheira kneeled beside him, her hand resting on his shoulder. "You did well, cub," she forced herself to laugh. "You were so brave. Let's get you and your red cat something to eat, alright?"

A dry sound reached their ears, stopping every and each one of them. You fell to the ground, as firm as an empty sack, whimpers leaving your mouth as you slipped into unconsciousness.

No fighting. No yelling. A quiet end. A peaceful one.

So easy.

Astarion grabbed Gale's shoulders, whispering so the others wouldn't notice. "It smells like her," Astarion swallowed hard. "I know it."

"Are you really sure of that?" Gale watched you, saw all your blood spreading through the ground, and looked into his eyes again. "Because if you're not, if your guess is wrong, then it will be our guts on the ground. Do you really trust your nose that much?"

Astarion gave him a smirk, but Gale could see the fear he was trying to hide. "Will you cover me, darling?"

"What's your plan?"

"Please. If you think I have one, then you don't know me at all."

As the spike dissapeared, Orin held Shadowheart's face again. "Think of everything we faced together. The nautiloid, the grove, the shadows. Wasn't I beside you all this time? Have I ever turned my back on you?"

"No." That Shadowheart knew the answer. "Never."

She looked up to the moon, praying for assistance. When her eyes fell down, she saw the body on the floor. And what surrounded it.

Scratch sad down beside you. He nudged your shoulder with his nose, waiting for you to stop with that game. He didn't like it. It wasn't fun like the others. But as he moved your body, she saw something reflecting the sunset. A flask. Concentrating, Shadowheart saw the contour of something. Of Astarion's body.

Gale had blue rays of light coming out of his eyes.

"Exactly, my love," her cheeks were pinched. The long nails digged on them for so long. "I've never turned on you. Not when you tried to kill Lae'zel. Not when you lied to me again and again. Or when you showed us how low you would go for your goddess. Remember the fear on the Nightsong's eyes? Remember how I pretended not to know all you would do to her if I wasn't there? A cleric who doesn't know where to lay her faith, a torturer so easily deceived, a coward unable to make the right decisions. That's why you never turned on me, right? Because I make the decisions you can't. I carry all the guilty for you. Because it's easier when I control everything. Don't you like it? That you don't need to use your brain when I am around? Wouldn't you give your memories to me if I asked? I know you would. I know you will."

Your head fell. The bone cracking, the skin stretching. They could hear as it moved, as it turned into something else. The shoulders falling, elbows breaking in half, the spine bending until it touches the bloody ground. The last snap, deep and long.

And from a thin cloud of dust, Orin appeared.

"Look at it. Crawnling under my fe..."

Nyrulna wasn't near Wyll, deep on the ground, neither did it came back to Karlach's hands. With accurate aim, the trident pierced Orin's ribs. Her blood joined yours, and the pale body fell where yours once lay.

Taking your time, you walked towards her. Stepping on the changeling's stomach, you ripped the trident from her insides. "I will give you a glorious death," you growled. "I'll make Bhaal wish I was his chosen."

You kneeled beside her, pressing the trident against her neck, then lowered your face until her ear. "I'll make him regret ever settling for you," you whispered.

Her eyes shone. "How... you know," she could barely say anything. "My... sib..."

You squeezed her cheeks, shutting her up. Then you caressed it, getting her skin dirty with your blood. "I know shit about you," you replied. "But I can tell you would never be anyone's first choice."

Orin can believe she escaped, if it's that what she desires. That you were too slow to stop her from teleport to wherever she deemed safe. That you were all bark and no bite. The truth is that she was wrong about you from the start.

You like the hunting.

You dropped Nyrulna to the ground, and threw yourself into Shadowheart's arms. “She lies,” you whispered. "She deceives and hurts and maims. Nothing was true. You're nothing that she said."

Quietly, Shadowheart hugged you. She breathed in your scent, felt your touch, heard your voice. You, you, you. She cried against your body. You.

Looking at the rest of your party, you breathed in. "We need a code," you said. "If we ever get into this sort of situation again, we need to say..."

You bite your lips, trying to think of something. Something you wouldn't use in another situation. Something that would be unique, impossible to confuse the meaning.

"Gold," you chose. "Or the rest of us are allowed to go for the kill."

Lae'zel cleared her throat. "Fair enough."

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

BALDUR’S GATE 3 TAGLIST: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[monvante]

i think (while on the topic of taylor swift and criticism towards her), if we're to look a little closer to what makes taylor swift so successful, especially as someone who used to be an avid fan back in her early teens (i regret nothing), is her mediocrity. and i mean this in the nicest way possible: she's good, but not good enough to threaten an industry. she's outspoken, but only when it looks good on her. she's conveniently white, able-bodied and conventionally beautiful enough to claim all the privileges while sitting on a throne of female empowerment - without really doing anything to threaten the status quo or promote said empowerment.

because threatening the status quo would inevitably mean addressing her own power and how she, as a billionaire, benefits so greatly from white feminism. it's a parade of rainbows and confetti until she has to speak up. until she has to do something that might cause controversy, that might make her lose audience, fans, or $$$.

on the topic of her talents and all - it's the same thing. she has the kind of content that hits you strong enough for you to give her the credit for some quite good lyrics (re: all too well, the entirety of folklore and evermore), but it's all still digestible. it's palatable. it does not question, it doesn't bring any issues or topics we haven't seen before in art or music. it makes you feel, but it doesn't build anything up.

and dare i say, the people who are doing it, who are bringing some sort of revolution and/or a new perspective into music are the exact types of people she tends to have beef or an issue with. she cannot perceive any threats in the slightest, especially from other female artists. how many of them has she truly collaborated with in a way where she wasn't the main event? think about it. just think about it, for once.

[girlkisser13]

taking the pjo & hoo characters to the eras tour

a/n: hey guys!!! let me know if i should do a second part or a third part but with minor characters.

warnings: eras tour setlist spoilers

annabeth chase

annabeth is 100% a midnights stan. she LOVES "you're on your own kid". she's also a folklore and evermore stan (because of the high vocabulary). she's a closeted swiftie because she got bullied for listening to her when she was younger. when you're going to the concert with her, she definitely devises a strategy to beat the merch lines. at the concert, she wouldn't sing/yell the lyrics with you but she'd have no problem lip syncing along to the music.

annabeth is a devoted swiftie. she loves deciphering all of taylor's easter eggs and analyzing her genius lyricism. she's the swiftie who you wait for to analyze taylor's newest album so that you know what she's singing about and all of the references that she makes Imao. she absolutely slayed her analysis of ttpd and ttpdta.

frank zhang

frank is by no mean a swiftie but after you introduced him to songs like, "the archer" and "this is me trying", our boy was converted into one. i feel like frank would be a nonchalant swiftie, he wouldn't follow what she was doing 24/7 and he wouldn't like obsess over what she's going to do next. frank is soooo speak now coded (i will not he taking any questions).

frank is at the eras tour for the vibes. he'll sing along to the songs that he knows. he's also the designated merch holder. he'd probably dress up as joe (the hat and the denim jacket, iykyk). i feel like he'd enjoy watching the film more than going to the concert because of the difference in atmospheres. however, he still has a great time at the concert.

grover underwood

grover is a evermore stan fr. he enjoys the nature aesthetic and vibe that evermore gives off. he talks shit to anyone who thinks that evermore is her worst album. he's only at the concert to have a good time and isn't stressing about the surprise songs or anything like that. however, he lost his shit when taylor opened evermore with "tis then damn season" and when she sang "tolerate it" (it's his favorite song).

hazel levesque

initially, hazel wasn't a swiftie but just because taylor didn't exist during her time. but after piper and leo introduced her to her music, hazel was converted into a swiftie. she's a fearless and speak now stan.

hazel would be too shy to scream or yell the lyrics with you but she'd happily lip sync along to the songs that she knows. her favorite part of the concert was dressing up. the two of you spend the whole night singing, dancing, and laughing with one another.

jason grace

jason is not a swiftie but he could be converted into one if you were. he's a folkevermore stan fr. he also thoroughly enjoyed tpd and tpdta. like frank, he's definitely a more nonchalant swiftie but he would enjoy listening to your rants and predictions on what she's going to do next.

he would dress up as the heartbreak prince to your miss americana. he would try his hardest to learn all of the lyrics to her songs so that he could sing it with you but because her discography is so vast, he printed out sheets with the lyrics on them so that he could scream her lyrics with you. he'd definitely propose to you during "love story" (if the two of you were in the that stage in your relationship).

we all know that jason emits husband energy and is a natural gentleman. so after the concert you know that that man is carrying you out of there because your legs hurt from dancing and would immediately make you some tea when you get back if you lost your voice too. he would also go and get any merch that you wanted during the concert so that you wouldn't miss anything. like frank, jason is also at the eras tour for the vibes but he still has a great time and is thankful that he gets to enjoy this experience with you!!!

leo valdez

leo's a swiftie fr. piper introduced him to her music and they listen to her new albums together. he excessively hates all of her ex-boyfriends that treated her poorly (joe j, john, jake, etc.). he's also 100% red coded but i feel like he also likes 1989.

leo would go all out on his eras tour outfit. he would create a unique and funny outfit or he would go as lasik taylor. he would happily join in with singing/yelling the lyrics with you. he definitely fangirls at every single song change. his favorite song to sing is all too well (10 minute version). piper also teaches him all of the chants so that he can impress you.

nico di angelo

like hazel, nico wasn't a swiftie at first because obviously, taylor didn't exist during the era that he lived in. but after will and piper introduced him to her music, he got converted into a swiftie. he's a folkevermore stan fr (but more evermore than folklore). at the concert, nico would be too shy to sing the songs and he'd probably lip sync along to the lyrics when he thinks no one's looking. he'd dress up as the reputation era just so he could wear black. he got a bracelet from someone and now wears it every single day. like frank, he'd prefer to watch the film compared to going to the concert just because he's scared of big crowds.

percy jackson

like annabeth, percy's a closeted swiftie because he got bullied for listening to her when he was younger. percy is a 1989 and lover stan. he's 100% a "me!" and "you need to calm down" lover. he also LOVES taylor's ovulation songs. (false god, dress, i can see you, etc.).

he goes all out for his eras tour outfit and probably dresses up wearing an outfit that taylor wore once and expects everyone to know when she wore it. like leo, percy fan girls at every single song change and probably screams the lyrics to her songs louder than you do.

piper mclean

piper is a HUGE swiftie. she's a pop girlie so naturally, she's a 1989 stan. i headcanon that she's a hopeless romantic so she's also a reputation and lover stan. for the longest time, she didn't believe that taylor and joe broke up. (they could never make me hate you joe!!!) she absolutely lost it when taylor annoyed 1989 tv.

the two of you guys went all out for your eras tour outfits and would probably coordinate outfits or do a cute couples outfit. she definitely gets you guys tickets in the pit where the two of you spend the whole time dancing and singing/yelling the lyrics to every single song. piper knows every single chant too (1 2 3 Igb). the two of you spent months making friendship bracelets to trade with everyone and at the end of the night, you guys traded enough bracelets to the point that they go up to your elbows. she definitely experienced gay panic during the vigilante shit choreography.

reyna ramirez-arellano

reyna is SOO speak now coded (better than revenge 👀). she's also a reputation stan. if kanye west has a million haters reyna is one of them. if he has one hater it's her. if he has no haters, she's dead. reyna avila ramirez-arellano hates kanye west with a passion.

reyna would dress up as the reputation era and would probably coordinate her outfit with nico. at first, reyna would be too shy to sing along to the songs but after you danced with her a few times she began to loosen up and she ended twirling you around and softly singing along with you.

will solace

will is obviously a debut and fearless stan. i feel like he prefers old taylor over new taylor but he's still a swifitie regardless. he definitely cried when he found out that taylor didn't dedicate a section of songs for debut on the eras tour. he'd definitely wear a cowboy hat with his eras tour outfit. i feel like he wouldn't yell the lyrics with you because he'd be scared he'd lose his voice but he'd happily sing along with you.

[stripedwolf88]

The Eras Tour: Paris Night 1 (My Thoughts)

ALLLLLLLLRIGHT. So because @bettysgarden12 wanted to know my reactions and thoughts on everything that happened today, I thought I would share with the rest of yous. It's probably not going to be very in depth or analytical so fair warning on that hehe. Also this probably isn't in order of the show because my memory is trash haha.

1.First things first. The lover bodysuit. WHaT iN ThE FRiLly HeLl?!?!? I literally still don't know whether or not I dreamt of seeing that new bodysuit. Definitely, lesbian colors represented there and it was confirmed with the orange blazer she wore for The Man. It was not an accident I'm sure to have the inside be pink too.

(Side note: we all knew that The Archer was going to get cut. It actually makes a lot of sense too. I think we are past Taylor asking us to stay, not that she doesn't still hope us too. It's more like she is fine with blowing everything up now instead of focusing on the worry of messing everything up. At least I hope that is the case. We're here for ya Taylor. You got this.)

2. Second, the Fearless dress. I LOVE IT SO MUCH. I also saw that it looks really reminiscent of the original dress she wore for her Fearless tour. It's almost like she is going back to what once was.

3. Third, transitioning right into Red was something. The new Red shirt says "This is not Taylor's Version" when Red is in fact Taylor's again. Some of my moots pointed out that it could be referencing the whole Real Taylor vs Taylor The Brand theory that we as a community have been developing for quite some time. With this thinking, it would mean that the Taylor we are seeing is not someone Taylor claims as her own or something like that. It's not truly her which we all knew already.

4. Fourth, we saw a new intro for Speak Now (now officially just Enchanted since Long Live has been axed.) I don't have much to say on that other than I wasn't surprised that Long Live got cut. This cut also makes sense if we are thinking that Taylor is gonna burn it down. No more reminding about the good times or the "needing" fans to stand by her forever.

5. Fifth, combining folklore and evermore was unexpected but also not? Idk it made sense and to me it just seems like it was easier to combine them since room had to be made for TTPD.

6. Sixth, Rep was Rep. Nothing really changed from what I could tell or remember other than THE FREAKING GLASS CASES SHATTERING!!! YOU BREAK THAT GLASS CLOSET TAYLOR! WHOOP WHOOP!

7. Seventh, 1989 outfit was...something. It's just not my cup of tea visually. I DID NOT notice the lion or tiger(???) charm she had on until someone else pointed it out. Very interesting either way.

8. Eighth, putting TTPD before Midnights was an interesting choice. The whole theory that we still have to meet her at Midnight (credit to my moots for pointing this out again) is supported by this I think.

9. Ninth, the dress for TTPD is amazing!! And so are the other two outfits. The marching band uniform and it's possible reference back to ME! music video? It has me in shambles.

10. Tenth, the performance for Who Afraid of Little Old Me was visually amazing and she sang it beautifully (no surprise there) with such emotion that it was impossible for me to look away. Her levitating across the stage was also freaking awesome!

11. Next the empty cages imagery?? The nurses pulling her away from her lover??? The image of her crouching in the middle of this weird ass place??? That one really kind of freaked me out. It was eerie and heartbreaking in a way I'm not quite able to explain at this moment.

12. I was conflicted about I Can Do It With A Broken Heart both before, during, and after the performance. I had a feeling she was going to perform it and I kind of wanted her to just to hear her sing it live but then not because I knew how the fans were going to react. I really did face-palm when everyone yelled "More!" on the livestream but we all knew they were going to. The transition into ICDIWABH made me want to throw something at the TV but I also did snort on the petulance on Taylor's face for the little act. I really liked the old Hollywood theme for the visuals and the dance. It was pleasing to watch. BY THE WAY....HAVING THE OUTFIT FOR ICDIWABH ECHO HER OUTFITS ON REP IS REALLY SOMETHING. She bamboozled me again.

13. Midniiiiiiights. THE BODYSUIT IS MY FAVORITE ONE OUT OF THE ONES WE HAVE SEEN SO FAR. I'm glad that Mastermind was kept. I didn't think that she would have taken away anything from the Midnights era but if there was I had this weird concern that it would be Mastermind. Thank god my anxiety was unnecessary.

14. The surprise soooooongs~ Paris is a favorite of mine so I'm happy she played it but also of course she did. That was another predictable thing that happened. Her performance of loml was again heartfelt. She seems really happy to sing these new songs and it shows.

15. I am pretty freaking sure that the Bejeweled lights were a LOT more colorful and rainbowy than usual. Was that just me? Please tell me it wasn't just me!

Overall, it is safe to say that I was not prepared for the absolute chaos that today brought.

Taylor, it seems like you're really doing this (I reeeeeally hope that is the case) and I'm so happy for you if that is what is happening. You do you and you show us what's up. I'm looking forward to it. <3

[cherries-in-wine]

A sort of rant/review (mostly negative) of the tortured poets department:

English isn't my first language so apologising in advance for the mistakes <3

I don't think ttpd would've had so much criticism if it wasn't so hyped up by swifties and Taylor herself. Folklore and Evermore are my favourite albums and because Taylor put so much emphasis on how good the songwriting of this album is i thought i was going to love it. So my expectations were a more Lana del rey or the national kind of vibe, orchestral pop or psychedelic rock and it would be like a third sister to folklore and evermore. I've noticed that Taylor's albums are all starting to sound like midnights. 1989 is such a good pop album but 1989 tv sounds midnightified especially the vault tracks sound like they belong on midnights. As much as I love Jack Antonoff as he gave us some great albums i think Taylor desperately needs a new producer. I think the album is definitely "raw" in the sense that unlike the other albums that are super put together, in order and organised, ttpd is messy like a bunch of paragraphs from her notes app thrown together, it isn't essentially a bad thing, but if you're gonna talk about how ttpd required more song writing talent than any other album, it's pretty reasonable for people to be disappointed. I thought name was a reference to joe's group chat name and kind of poking fun at that, but oh no it's an actual fuking asylum and the whole idea makes me very uneasy. The reason why folklore and evermore work is because it's not from the perspective of Taylor but rather the people she's made up in her mind and because she is such a good story teller those albums sound awesome. Something about a straight cis billionaire white woman calling herself a tortured poet in all seriousness and romaticising asylums/electroshock therapy makes me so so so uncomfortable. I understand why swifties are so defensive and protective of Taylor, with all the shit that happened with Kim and Kanye but I feel like they think she's a god that can do no wrong, which is stupid you can like an artist but still call me them out their shitty decisions. The "oh you think her singing writing is not that good why don't you write something better" is such a stupid argument, this random person criticising Taylor isn't constantly referred to as the greatest song writer of our generation, she is. I saw a post saying "the biggest burn is that most songs are about Matty Healy and not Joe Alwyn" like excuse me but if my ex that I dated for many years just starts gushing over a slimy ass Nazi racist sexist pathetic excuse of a man, I'd go "thank god good riddance". What happened to "you are what you love" Taylor?. I really like some songs, but I keep getting disgusted when It clicks who they're about. "But daddy I love him" is a great song but it's about ratty Healy fuck off ew.

I have a lot more to say but my brain isn't braining so I'll update later lol

[myoddessy]

evermore. cl16

summary—you had fallen in love with charles to the sound of squeaking tricycles and high-pitched laughter. You'd loved him through every race, just as he'd loved you through every audition. Loving him had become as natural as breathing, so when he walks out the door for the last time, your left choked and alone.

what to expect—actress!reader, angst (lots of angst), based on a load of songs from taylor swift's evermore, mostly focused around charles' pov, slightly rushed/kinda open ending. for the sake of drama let's pretend that Monaco and Spa gps were in the same month in 2022.

word count—3.8k

He's a nice guy. You know it, he knows it, everyone who's ever heard of the name Charles Leclerc would know he's a nice guy. He was a gentleman. He followed the sidewalk rule, opened doors for you, practically threw his jacket at you the second you so much as shivered around him.

But more than that, more than the kindness that you could find anywhere if you looked hard enough, Charles understood you. He saw you, really saw you. He knew you as more than record breaker, more than a star, more than a lover, more than a friend. In mornings of intimacy and nights of passion, Charles had built you a home in his heart and swore you would always be safe there.

But now, as you stood in your kitchen, staring blankly at the empty chairs, you knew you could call Charles one more thing.

A liar.

You cursed yourself for feeling bitter, knowing he hadn't left your apartment that night unscathed either. You almost wished he had. Maybe if there was an actual villain in your story, it would be easier to admit that it's over.

If he wasn't such a nice guy. If he had screamed at you, demeaned you, equated your self to nothing, you could convince yourself you were better off without him. But you weren't. You know it, he knows it, anyone who met you before him knows it too.

You sigh and roll your eyes because you know as much as you try to hate him, you never will. He will never be your villain, so you'll just have to settle with him being nothing.

You'd faced heartbreak before, but those guys had all worked in your fairytale favour. Much needed antagonists, if you will. With every snide remark towards your success, they'd pushed you towards Charles' open arms. You'd learned how to cope with that pain, but this one was different. Nobody teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you, after all.

Some nights, when you woke up because of a window you forgot to close, you swear you can still feel him. Still hear the light hum of his sleeping breaths. Still smell the homely scent of his cologne. But then, when you turn to the other side of the bed, hoping all of this had just been a bad dream, your met with cold pillows and empty space, and remember that this is your life now, not what once was.

You had to break all your habits, forge new routines, because everything had been reliant on Charles. Instead of calling him as soon as you got back from set, you started running baths and catching up on episodes of shows you used to love that never suited his taste. Instead of carving days out of your limited free time to fly to who-knows-where for races, you explored the cities you were in and rekindled lost bonds with old friends.

Ever since Charles had left, on a surface level, you'd been thriving. Your friends admired it, saying you were strong and powerful for how you'd taken your heartbreak and turned it to success.

They didn't need to know about the slipping of your hand when you make enough dinner for two, or how you found yourself reverting back to the playlist of French classics he'd made for you whenever you felt particularly lonely.

It had been two months. Days ticked by and with every one that passed, you found yourself selfishly hoping that Charles Leclerc would disappear. From your memory, from your heart, from your world. Because every time you felt you were having a breakthrough, every time you made just enough breakfast, you'd leave the house and see magazine cover celebrating his success, every time you found a new song to listen to, you overhear a rumour that he took a model back to his hotel last weekend.

There was a time when you'd happily let Charles occupy your mind, but that time was long passed, and you needed it to stay that way.

No matter how well—or unwell—you handled it on your own, Charles couldn't say he fared much better. He still pulled out two wine glasses, still reached out to nothing in the dead of night, still heard the sound of your laughter ringing in his ears when the shrieks of fans should drown it out.

He swore he was going insane, but what a beautiful torment you were, and if seeing your shadow around every city street was his downfall, then hysteria was welcomed with open arms.

He wished he could say he didn't regret it. That ending things was what was best. He could say that at the time, but as days came and went, he found himself doubting. He had insisted that both of your schedules would be the death of you. With him flying around the world to race and to train, and you being flown out to anywhere and everywhere to film, and pose, and answer questions that he knew you hated, you had to fight tooth and nail to spend any time with each other.

Charles hated to admit it, but most of the sacrifice had come from you. You never complained, of course you didn't, you were nice like that. Loving, understanding. Of course you wouldn't tell him about the offers you declined and the covershoots you'd missed to visit him at a race. You never wanted him to know, but he found out anyway.

He was in the en suite, you were in the bedroom. Charles remembered that you'd gotten a call before he got in the shower, he had made note to ask why you looked so stressed when you answered. You'd kept your voice quiet, Charles only later understanding why.

So engrossed in the conversation, you hadn't noticed Charles shut the water off, nor had you heard him open the bathroom door. Your back was facing him.

"Viv, I'm sorry. You know I'm sorry, but I can't take it on right now. I'm booked to go to Spa that week, then I have to come back to Monaco, you know how important it is that I'm there." Your voice was soft, Charles couldn't tell if you were fighting tears or consoling someone. He could vaguely hear the person on the other line.

"Y/n, this is huge! I mean, come on, you've talked about wanting to work with Wes Anderson how many times? Can't you miss two races?"

"I know." Your agent was a tough woman to bargain with, but you knew she only ever wanted the best for you. "But I can't miss these, he needs the support. He deserves it."

Charles didn't hear the rest of what was said, moving into the bathroom again to look at his reflection with a wave of guilt hitting him suddenly. He splashed cold water on his face, preparing himself to face you and tell you that you needed to take the job. That, even if the luck that came with your presence pulled through, any victories would pale in comparison to how selfish he'd feel knowing what you gave up to be there.

But when he finally reopened the door, and he saw the happy smile you gave him with a small hum of good shower? the words died on his tongue. He would regret it for forever, but he didn't dare ruin the domesticity of the night with tears and arguments.

Now, three months after the split, Charles sees a tweet announcing a new film. Normally he ignored those notices, you always told him the important stuff anyway, but when he saw your picture posed proudly, he stalled. A leading role in the new Wes Anderson feature, set to start filming a month from then. He didn't feel sadness or jealousy at your ability to succeed, he smiled and carried on with his day.

The next time Charles was reminded of memories of you was a mere week after he saw the tweet, when he decided to take a run through the streets of Monaco. He passed a park on his way, slowing to a walk to admire the scenery. It wasn't anything abnormal, people walking their dogs, couples strolling with linked arms, kids screeching with joy as they ran around the playground.

But the one thing that made him stop was two children sitting on a bench near the gates. Their legs hung over the edges, swinging back and forth while they talked. The shorter one, the girl with twin plaits and a frilly pink dress had her head tilted to the sky, giggling at the clouds passing by, murmuring something about how they looked like bunnies. The taller one, the boy with a shaggy haircut and baggy clothes, however, had his eyes trained on her, nodding mindlessly while she babbled on excitedly, a noticeable blush on his face. And, suddenly, he's five years old again, playing with his toy car in the same playground with a bright-eyed girl in a pink frilly dress running up to him to tell him his hair is funny.

He remembers being offended at first, then falling into a fit of laughter to match hers. He didn't learn her name that day, nor the day after when they bumped into each other in the same way, in fact, it wasn't until a week after when he finally learned her name, and it was through pure chance.

It happened in a bakery, one he hasn't stepped foot in in three months. He'd been dragged along on errands by his mother, coaxed by the promise of pastries at the end. He waited impatiently on a highstool facing the window while she ordered, his head resting on folded arms. Then, after what felt like a century, he heard his mother come up behind him, a large bag of sweets in on hand, the other thrown around the shoulder of another woman.

"Oh my, he's grown so much!" The woman exclaimed. All Charles did was look at her funny, the only thing he wanted to do was go home and eat. The overhead bell rang as the door opened.

"Mama!" A small, high-pitched voice called. "Papa says we need to go or we'll be late to the shoot." A young girl walked up to the woman Charles didn't quite know. She wore a pink dress that Charles recognized in an instant—quite impressive for a five year old, he'd later brag. Oh, so you were always down bad, Lando would then chime in, and chaos would ensue.

She gasped happily. "Funny Hair!" She exclaimed, pointing at Charles. Their mothers exchanged confused looks. "Mama, this is the boy from the park. The one who let me play with the cars!"

Pascale saw the bashful face on her boy and smiled warmly, placing a hand on his back to help him off the chair. She nudged her head towards you, silently urging Charles to properly introduce himself. "I'm Charles." He mumbled, nervous under three pairs of eyes.

Dimples carved into your cheeks at your gap-toothed grin. "I'm Y/n." You reached forward and shook his hand, turning to your mother once more to politely remind her that you had somewhere very important to be.

With goodbyes and promises of coffee and lunch while you and your parents were still in Monaco, you left, leaving Charles with nothing more than a red face, a fast-beating heart, and a name to put to the girl who insulted his hair. You saw each other here and there after, your mothers dragging you both along when they met up until it eventually became you dragging them out the door in sheer eagerness to see each other again.

Many things changed since those fateful days in Monaco. You grew from TV ads to Hollywood leads, he grew from toy cars to formula tracks. You both stopped hating adults who kissed in your presence, and ended up being the bane of his cousins' existence. One thing that didn't change, however, was Charles forcing you to sit down and watch the, now old, Sky TV ad you were rushing off to film when he first learned your name.

Charles smiled at the sky as he carried on with his run.

Nobody could truly understand why you broke up, other than you and Charles. Beneath the adoration and pride, there was a hidden torment. A nagging feeling tugged at your heart every time you sat in Ferrari hospitality instead of curled up in a trailer, working on a project. A similar feeling washed over Charles every time he saw your shining eyes, knowing what should've been was forgotten so you could be here.

He hated what he was making you. He knew your career was your truest love and your dearest pride. He knew the blood, sweat, and tears you'd put into earing a name and a platform for yourself so you could support your family and help those who couldn't help themselves. He knew that your greatest joys would always come from performing, how you had a special smile reserved for when you saw the results of your work and dedication. He knew that, despite loving him wholly, you were changing who you were at your core to fit him.

He loved the sight of you cheering his name in a sea of red, but whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the way you looked when you turned down a job to support him, and feared that if it went on, you'd grow to resent him.

Above anything, his greatest fear was you seeing him as your downfall as opposed to your lover and, in the end, the only fate worse than being left in your past, was being someone you hated.

yourusername just posted !

Shit. Through everything, Charles had forgotten to turn off your post notifications. His thumb hovered over the screen, fighting temptation to see what you were up to. But, like he always was around you, Charles found himself helpless, clicking the banner and swallowing hard.

liked by zendaya, finnwolfhard, jennaortega, and 650,901 others

yourusername stumbled down pretend alleyways, cheap wine, make-believe it's champagne 🥂

zendaya babe you're glowing 🥺🥺

tchalamet 🔥🔥🔥

ynslover I WAS TAKEN BY RHE VIEW LIKE WE WERE IN PARUS

lecl3rcszn crying bcs y/n posts about being in Paris THE DAY AFTER I FLY BACK FROM THERE

On instinct, Charles liked the post, scrambling to unlike it with a sharp gasp moments later. He cursed himself for the slip of his thumb, praying nobody had caught it. But he knew yours and his fans well, and knew that at least one person had taken a screenshot in the time it took for him to realise his mistake. "Fuck." He groaned, tossing his phone across the bed and running his hands over his face, preparing for the media shitstorm that would come over the next few days.

You screamed into your pillow when you saw the notification. 

“Who does he think he is?” You asked the empty room. Standing up from your bed to pace around, your dog looking at you with a quirked head. “Don’t judge me.” You pointed at her. “I mean, seriously, who the fuck likes their exes post not even a minute after it was uploaded?” You chewed on the side of your thumb. “It was probably a coincidence, right? I happened to post just when he refreshed his feed. He definitely doesn’t have my notifications on, does he?” Again, you were met with silence. 

“Ugh!” You groaned out, falling onto your bed once again and covering your face with your hands. You thought you were over this shit, you thought you were over him. It had been months, you’d been on Vogue, you’d been on SNL, you’d done the interviews, and the ads, and the photoshoots, and you’d booked the role of your dreams, and with one stupid fucking like, Charles Leclerc had ruined it. 

All of your work, all of the hours you’d poured into TheWizardLiz and whatever ‘New Mindset, New Me’ creators you’d found, was now worth nothing because you were back where you were three months ago. Lying in your unmade bed with a heavy heart and a mind full of Charles. 

You wanted to cry. You’d tried so hard to put yourself and your progress in the forefront of your mind, but now all you could think about was the night he left.

He’d flown out to you in NYC, handful of roses and a pocketful of sunshine. You hoped he hadn’t come over with the intention of ending it. You didn’t know if you could handle him being that happy, all to break things off. 

It was on the last day of his week-long stay. He’d made you a fancy dinner, lit candles, set flowers. A foolish part of you thought he was going to propose, but when his hands found yours on the couch later that night, what he said was anything but romantic. 

The Dom Perignon on the table was long forgotten, the only sound between his words was the cracking of your glass heart. “It’s for the best.” You heard him say through the ringing in your ears. “We’ll grow to hate each other.” “I’ll always love you.” “Say something, please?” 

“So we’re over? Just like that?” For the first time since he’d met you, the loud, vivacious girl he’d grown to love was nowhere to be seen. Your voice was hushed and small, your shoulders were hunched. You were making yourself small and it was his fault, the fact made him sick. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice was gentle, their was a crack in his words and tears in my eyes. You sniffled and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“I- um- I think you should go.” Your voice was thick with tears shed and more welling up. Charles sighed and nodded in understanding. “I’m out tomorrow for lunch with Timothee and Saoirse at 1 so you can get your stuff then, if you want.” You mumbled out, barely audible as he stood by the door. 

He halted halfway through the threshold, and the young girl in you with a pink dress and pigtails hoped he was going to turn back and kiss you and say it was all a dream. But he didn’t. He did something much worse. 

“I really do love you, you know that, right?” A beat of silence. “And I really am sorry.” 

That was when you knew you couldn’t hate him. Because you did know it, you knew he loved you. You knew this wasn’t what he wanted, but it was what you both needed. You could hear him crying on the other side of the door, him resting against it for a minute or two before finally leaving. 

He repeated a mantra in his head as he went down the elevator, It's for the best. Sometimes giving up is the right thing, he told himself as his footsteps echoed through the parking lot. Sometimes to run is the strong thing.

As he turned on the car and drove far away from his true home, he prayed that was true.

It had been 9 months since the break-up. Your feet ached from the heels you’d been wearing all night, and the comfort of your apartment had never been more appreciated. You really did it. The premiere was everything you could have wanted. The afterparty had stretched into the AM, and praise had been thrown at you for hours, much like the drinks. 

But as early morning moonlight still lingered through the windows, you didn’t want the champagne, or the glitz and glamour, all you wanted was a nice, home-cooked meal. You sat up from the couch, stretching like a cat, designer gown still hugging your figure as you shuffled to the kitchen, rummaging through your cupboards to grab some pasta. You pressed shuffle on a playlist of your current favourite songs.

New York had never really been strange to Charles, whenever he visited, he always had an A-class tour guide in you. But as he wandered through the streets in their 4am glory, alone after Pierre abandoned him for some reason he couldn’t quite remember, he knew he couldn’t feel like more of a tourist if he tried. His eyes were hazy with sleep and a mild buzz from the club he’d just left, but his mind cleared when he looked up to the gleaming billboards and saw your face. 

He smiled, continued walking, and thought about the times you’d practically pulled his arm off to show him around whenever he visited. He didn’t really know where he was going, but with the certainty in his heart, he knew his hotel must be somewhere near. 

“Shit!” You cursed, your hand slipping for the first time in months. Enough pasta for two. At least I’ll have some left over for tomorrow. You thought with a huff. You swayed along to the music gently, humming the lyrics to invisible string with a content smile. 

25C. That seemed right. Charles felt around his pockets for his keycard, grumbling indistinct complaints when he remembered he left it in the hotel room with the intent of using Pierre’s after the club. He raised his hand to knock, hoping his friend wasn’t too tired, or too occupied elsewhere. 

A knock made you jump in your skin. “Who the fuck makes house calls at 4:30?” You asked yourself. You wiped your hands down with a cloth and walked to the door, too hungry to bother checking the peephole.

"Oh."

"Oh." Your jaw slacked and your hands grew clammy. You hid them behind the lavish ruffles of your dress.

Charles was knocked back to sobriety, wide awake, and heart thumping out of his chest.

"What are you doing here?"

"Would you believe me if I said I was just in the area?"

You huffed out a laugh, Charles joined, and it soon transcended to a small fit of giggles.

"I think I'm a bit lost." He admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

"You think?" You teased, and a small part of you was screaming at you to stop joking and slam the door, but the rest was elated in the comfort of the ease in which you talked.

He wasn't a stranger to you. He never would be.

You wondered if you'd regret what you were about to do when morning came.

"It's late, if you need a place to stay, I still have that extra room." You but the inside of your cheeks when his eyes widened. "And I accidentally made enough food for two people, so the choice is yours. We can catch up."

Charles looked to the apartment behind you, then back you, then back to the apartment, a silent game of tennis to see if you were really serious.

When you smiled at him and stepped aside, showing him the opportunity was his, all he had to do was grab it, he nearly jumped for joy. But instead of screaming and kissing you then and there, he just smiled with his usual boyish charm.

"I'd like that."

[swiss-mrs]

EVERMORE: Chapter One

Eddie Munson Fic - Evermore Directory - Word Count: 7.4K

prev - next

Music blared through Eddie’s ears as he stared out the dingy bus window. “It's for the best, kid.” Wayne's voice echoed through his mind. “You know I care for you, son, but I have no clue how to handle this.” His uncle's sorrowful and concerned expression was drilled into Eddie’s mind.

It's been three months since his return, six since his ‘death’. The world has fallen into autumn, red and brown leaves adorning the trees that pass in a blur. “You'll master your powers and meet others like you. I'll miss you all over again, man.” He could still feel Dustin's tears soaking through his shirt.

Eddie wasn't completely alone on the bus. Aside from the driver, there was a girl, probably around 15, sobbing in the back of the bus, and a boy who looked no or older than 12 or 13 towards the front of the bus, staring out the window in a similar fashion to Eddie. His eyes were dry, but he didn't really look happy to be on this bus ride either. 

Eddie was sat in the middle, a good amount of space between both the others. According to his watch, they were about 11 hours into their 13 hour drive. He glances over his shoulder to find the girl passed out against the window with dried tears on her face. He turns to look in front of him to find the boy still staring out the window blankly. He wondered if either of these children went through the same thing he did. Did they also suddenly gain mysterious, super natural powers they can't seem to control? Did they too do something unforgivable to put them here? He sighs and averts his eyes back to the window. The morning sun was peeking over the skyline. Did they always do night pickups? Was it to hide their shipments?

Eddie's leg began to bounce as they neared closer and closer. ‘Welcome to Vermont’ the sign read as they passed. He knew this was the best choice but that couldn't stop his heart from feeling betrayed and bitter.

Over the last three months, he was plagued with night terrors and migraines. It made him detached and irritable beyond belief. He lost count how many times Wayne was unfortunately on the wrong end of those lash outs. Every time, Eddie felt a pang of regret immediately after, but that didn't keep it from happening again and again.

Eddie was never this bad. He'd always been a good kid despite what everyone thought, despite his transcript. Wayne had no clue what to do when Eddie came back a full 180. The last thing he was expecting that day was to find his dead nephew alive and passed out on their front porch.

Wayne genuinely thought he might’ve been hallucinating. All the exhaustion had fleeted, and he rushed Eddie inside to keep him from prying eyes. It was a miracle no one saw him. When he woke, Eddie was too weak to actually explain himself, not that he even had answers to give. Eventually, Wayne just said to hell with it, and simply catered to his kid. Never in all of Eddie's years had he ever known Wayne to take a day off, but for Eddie, he took several. Three days and nights were spent aiding Eddie back to health. He fed him when he was too weak to lift a spoon and held him when he cried from head splitting nightmares. By the morning of day four, Eddie was at least able to make it to the bathroom and back on his own. Wayne made sure to have some food prepared for Eddie in case he got hungry during his night shift and told him to call if anything went wrong. He'd be back in a heartbeat.

As the weeks went by, Eddie became stronger and stronger, more than before. His night terrors didn't stop, but he was at least able to stop screaming and crying himself awake.

It was just two weeks ago that Eddie had done something he couldn't forgive himself for. He hurt Wayne.

He remembers the dream like  a real memory. He was taller, bigger, but, somehow, he also felt lighter. He remembers looking down at his hands and seeing his pale fingers were replaced with slender, dark gray appendages. His blunt fingernails were now black sharp claws. His back felt heavy, like someone had strapped 300 pound weights to his shoulder blades. He remembers looking down at his body and being horrified. He's a monster, a real monster. His breathing started to pick up, and he began to feel lightheaded, a dull thumping in his mind. Though he was panicked at the sight of himself, there was this itching in the back of his brain. Something was there. He had felt an urge he'd never felt before. It was dark and malevolent. It scared him. What's happening to me?! He began thrashing about at the stale air around him, an unfamiliar roar coming from within him, rumbling through his chest. It was so boisterous that it rattled his own eardrums.

He was shaken out of his dream by the sound of his uncle's voice, “Christ!” Eddie's eyes rip open, and he immediately realizes his back on the ceiling. As soon as the realization hits, he falls to his bed, bouncing off and onto the floor with a heavy thud. Still in his panicked state, he yells, scrambling to back away from an invisible horror in front of him. Wayne made the mistake of rushing to his aid.

Feeling a grip on his shoulder in the midst of his screaming panic, Eddie swings an arm around, clawing at the perpetrator. “Ah!” His uncle's voice rings out in pain. Eddie's eyes snap up to the source, finding Wayne falling back, clutching his chest. Blood escapes his skin, staining the torn front of his shirt. Eddie stares up at his shocked uncle in terror.

“Wayne!” He yells, full of concern. He reaches out to him but is immediately taken aback when he sees the black, blood soaked claws on his hand. The tips of his fingers were shade gray as if halfway turned into the monster he was in his dream. He screams in horror at the sight of his own hand.

“Son!” Wayne's voice yells. Despite the blood rising down his front, Wayne closes in on Eddie, gripping his shoulders to grab his attention. Eddie's eyes find Wayne's, and he stops screaming. Tears immediately fill his eyes, and his uncle painfully brings him into his chest, holding him tightly. As Wayne rocked side to side, Eddie could feel the warmth of his uncle’s blood smear on his face and neck. Eddie sobbed uncontrollably, struggling to breathe as his heart pounded irregularly in his chest.

Eddie closes his eyes and leans his head against the bus window with a dull thud. He could feel his eyelashes dampen at the memory of that night, an all too familiar anxious drumming behind his ribs. This is for the best. He repeats in his head. He can't allow something like that to happen again, ever. 

Before he knows it, the bus is passing a ‘Welcome to Jericho’ sign then not too long after driving through a black metal gate that reads ‘Nevermore Academy’ at the top in a gothic font. The bus pulls to a stop into the driveway.

Wordlessly, the driver exits the bus after opening the doors for the few passengers. Eddie takes in the new location through the window. There's an older, dark skinned man with dreadlocks conversing with the bus driver, giving him a friendly greeting with a smile. Are those horns? The man helps load the few bags that were in the bus's storage compartment into a trailer on the back cart of a small vehicle. They give each other their farewells and the bus driver goes to tend to the bus while the man hops in the car to drive away.

“Hey, mister?” Eddie's gaze switches to the little boy who was now standing in the aisle looking at Eddie. He takes one of his wired earbuds out.  “It's time to get off.” The boy says timidly. Eddie nods and stands up in his seat, towering over the kid. The little boy turns to rush off the bus as Eddie puts his backpack on. He glances around the bus to realize it's empty. The girl must've already got off too.

Eddie trudged down the aisle, ducking a little to avoid bumping his head against the roof of the bus. He walks down the stairs, slowly stepping off the final one as he takes in a deep breath. The air here was a bit chilly, crisp, but it filled his lungs graciously. He walks up to stand beside the two younger kids. They stand in a line, in front of a tall platinum blonde woman dressed in a monochrome, light gray outfit. She began to speak a ingenuine speech, no doubt repeated a million times to every new arrival. Eddie tuned her out, just taking in her appearance. Her eyes were a piercing blue shade, and her lips were colored red, highlighting her smile. Her teeth were white and perfectly aligned. She had an unreadable aura around her. She reminded Eddie of a shark. Her sheer existence is just off-putting.

It seemed like her speech was coming to an end as she then gestures to a student beside her. “This will be your mentor, your guide, Mr. Sheridan.” She averts her eyes to look down at the young man standing next to her. He could easily be around 18 years old, most likely a senior or something. His dark brown hair was cut short and styled perfectly. He had blue eyes, defined lips, and a strong jawline. Judging from his looks, his neat appearance, and ironed stiff school uniform, he must be this school's ‘The King’ equivalent. He held a tight, polite smile. “Mr. Sheridan here is a great student who will ensure to take good care of you. You truly are in good hands.” He looks up at the official looking lady with a bashful grin before looking back at the three. He nods to the younger kids then looks over to Eddie with a curious expression. Eddie looks deadpan at the guy and the student turns to address the full group.

“It is an honor to meet you all.” His English accent rings out. Eddie fights the urge to roll his eyes. “I will be your go to informant to guide you and get you accustomed to the ins and outs of our daily life here at Nevermore Academy.” Jeez, this guy sounds like a douche. Eddie thinks, using the second scripted speech to get a good look at the building and grounds from where he stood. “Please, follow me.” Eddie's attention is brought back to the senior as the kids next to him start moving.

“Welcome to Nevermore, dear students!” The lady calls out as they walk passed. Eddie ignores the spiel getting rambled off about how their first days will be laid out, instead looking around at the campus as they walk through. He's enamored by the sights the school offers. It's something straight out of a book. His chest can't help but feel a little giddy.

The campus seems strangely empty for being as large as it is. As if reading his mind, the young boy raises his hand to ask a question, “Excuse me, Mr. Sheridan?”

“Please, my name is Matthew or Matt, for short.”

“Where are all the other students?” The tan boy asks. The student, Matt, gives the shorter kid a kind smile and nods.

“Good question.” He chuckles, “Classes are in session right now. You three arrived kind of mid-day for most of us.” He looks down at his silver, expensive looking watch, causing Eddie to subconsciously do the same with his much less expensive, rubber one. 10:36 AM. Eddie drops his wrist. “Actually, this class period should be releasing some students here in about the next 15 minutes.” He looks back up at the trio with a polite grin. “We're making pretty good time. Our first stop is going to be the administrative office. We'll get your schedules. You'll get fitted for your uniforms, and we'll get your dorm keys.” He turns back around with a motion to continue following him. Eddie trails behind a little, not necessarily in any hurry.

Matt opens up the door to the office, holding it ajar for the trio to enter ahead of him. Oh, what a gentleman. Eddie fawns sarcastically in his head. Matt nods cordially at him as he passes, following behind Eddie as he enters. “Matthew, my boy!” A deep voice booms, naturally demanding Eddie's attention.

“Good morning, Professor Shaw. How are you? I have our new arrivals here.” The blue eyed boy turned to gesture to the new students, all of whom were staring at the horns atop the older man’s head. Man, this guy looks something straight out of DND. His deep skin tone complimented his golden irises. He stood quite a few inches over everyone else and was obviously built sturdy underneath his neutral toned, professional attire. 

“I see! Hello, young man.” The older man directs at the little boy. “M'lady.” He nods to the teen girl nicely. He then turns to Eddie. “Mr. Edward Munson. I presume?” Eddie's brows raise, shocked to hear his name come off the older man's tongue. Great, I'm already known here by name.

“Eddie, sir.” He corrects. The man raises his brows slightly and gives a frown of approval, nodding his head.

“Eddie it is. Pleasure to meet you. Pleasure to meet you all.” His attention is brought back to the other two. “I'm Professor Gardnal Shaw. I primarily work here in the admissions office, but I am also the teacher for Intro to More class, a course you all will undoubtedly be attending.” He smiles proudly. He lifts a hand towards the right side of the huge office. “If you would please, follow me.” He leads the way to a portion sectioned off behind a heavy velvet curtain, Matthew second in line. The teenage girl was next then the little boy after her. Eddie towered over the both of them from behind. His eyes are forward, but he catches the young boy in front of him timidly glancing back at him. Eddie offers a ghost of a smile, not wanting to make the kid any more nervous or uncomfortable around him. The boy's eyes widen when Eddie's eyes catch his gaze. An awkward smile sneaks onto his adorable face as he quickly turns to face forward. Eddie holds in a laugh, curiosity overtaking him. Wonder what this kid got himself into.

As the group passes the threshold of the curtain, they are met with an older, glasses wearing woman. She looks like the nicest middle aged lady you’ll ever encounter the way her face lights up at the sight of new students. “Students, this is our lovely seamstress, Ms. Glenda. She will be assisting you with your uniforms.” Mr. Shaw announces with his hands clasped together in front of him.

“New arrivals!” She exclaimed excitedly.

“Good Morning, Ms. Glenda.” Matt adds. She turns to him with a kind grin, her eyes crinkling at their corners.

“Well, good morning to you, Matthew. Very dashing, as always.” She compliments, motherly. The young man blushes, his bitten back smile extenuating his cheekbones. She turns her attention back to the new faces before he can come back with anything. “Now, who do we have here!” She adjusts her little, wire rimmed glasses and squints at the three. “A stunning young lady, an adorable little man, and quite a handsome young fellow, hmm.” The three all have their respective bashful, avoiding glances. “You,” All three lift their heads, but find her attention on Eddie specifically. Eddie's heart picks up slightly, nervous of what she may say next. “You, young man, are a bit older than the normal new arrivals I'm used to seeing.” She lifts her chin to look down the tip of her nose through her falling glasses. Eddie's brows furrowed in confusion as his eyes flit from one face to another, awkwardly glancing at each person in the room. Before he can open his mouth to say anything, Mr. Shaw buts in to take over.

“Sir Eddie here is the first of many to come. Our academy is expanding the age range of our admissions to include those who may have found changes later in life.” The man eloquently clarifies, giving Eddie a comforting grin. Great, ‘first of many’. Even amongst ‘outcasts’, I'm still an outcast.

“Ah, I see. Well, that's wonderful news.” The older lady says, voice full of warmth and welcome. She grins softly. “Well, let's get you all fitted! You've got a lot more to do today!” She smiles widely before pulling each new student in one by one to get them situated with uniforms.

The next two hours were spent in the office, getting uniforms, schedules, and supplies. Following the admin office, Matt guided them around campus, giving them a tour of the common yard, the libraries, showing them different wings for the different studies offered before finally leading them to the massive cafeteria.

The café had two levels. The main floor held a buffet spread of rotating foods, vending machines, and several rows of tables. The second floor was a balcony that had additional seating overlooking the main floor. On the far side of the cafeteria was floor to ceiling windows, presenting a mystical view of the Vermont countryside. “Alright, I think this is a perfect time as any to take a break and get some lunch.” Matt announced, looking down at his watch to see the time as 12:45 PM. “Take an hour to relax and eat. I'll be back to collect you three around 1:45, so we can head to the dorms for you all to get settled in. For now, help yourselves to whatever you’d like.” The uniformed guide clasps his hands together, gives them a nod, and walks away.

The two kids glance at each other then at Eddie. The teenage girl walks off first. The little boy glances back to Eddie after watching the girl walk away. He looks like he wants to say something, which Eddie raises a brow to, but ultimately, he scurries away.

Eddie sighs and follows suit, assembling himself a plate of food that appears too appetizing to be a school lunch. He spots an empty seat next to the massive windows on the main floor. He’s one of the only few not wearing a uniform, so on top of his obvious age difference, his attire makes him stand out like a sore thumb. This causes him to catch a couple curious glances from some passing students, nothing he isn’t already used to.

As he walks to the empty table, he gets a pretty decent idea of different cliques. Even in this world, high schoolers aren't too different. On top of grouping up by sport or ‘status’, one of the obvious differences is that some are separated by species.

Eddie had to use everything in him not to stare at some of the more obvious ones, some with unnaturally colored skin tones, some with horns, others with tusks for canines. It was incredible to see in person something he’d only ever imagined or seen in movies and books. Man, what the guys would say about this. He shakes his head, looking down with a small chuckle. He successfully makes it to the targeted seat without issue. He drops his bag to the floor beneath him and starts eating, “Mmmm.” Holy shit. The food here is just as good as it looks. He hums to himself. After that first bite, suddenly all the hunger his emotions were hiding came to the surface. His stomach growled, begging for more. He scarfs down half his plate before something out the corner of his eye catches his attention.

Outside, several feet down in somewhat of a courtyard he’d had yet to tour, there was a group of students. Are those real? The thing that caught his eyes was the glimmering of metal. The afternoon sun reflecting off steel weapons and shields. Eddie drops his hands to the table to watch the commotion going on outside. There were stairs that led off the slide of the cliff that held the main school building. There were two students walking down them with trays of food. On their uniform jackets were added emblems that took up most of the space on their back panels. It was difficult to get a clear view of the royal purple embroidery from this far, but from what Eddie could tell, it looked like a sword with wings where the cross guard should be.

Eddie’s brows draw closer together as he squints to try and get a better look at the group below. All of the ones sparring had taken their jackets off. The others that were seated and eating were too small for Eddie to see their jackets any clearer, but he does notice one person in particular. 

Atop a boulder on the edge of the courtyard stood an observer dressed in the same purple and black striped uniform jacket and black pants. This observer had a golden sash hanging across their torso, fastened together at the hip, something only seen on royal families. They seemed to be yelling out orders or instructions ever so often. Standing next to the boulder was another onlooker.

This person had short brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and a hard gaze. Their white button down shirt was tucked into their black uniform pants. Even from this distance, Eddie could see the white long sleeves were struggling to contain their crossed, muscular arms. Jesus, who are these people? Eddie looks down in shock. Eddie’s eyes are back on the golden sash student as they hop down from their high point to go up to the two sparrers.

Taking one of the swords as they talk, they ready themselves for what seems to be a demonstration. Eddie watches as they start swinging the sword around, immediately catching the attention of all the other students around. They can be seen talking as they move so fiercely. Each swing of the sword is incredibly controlled and impactful. The fight is intense, yet the observer is basically floating, light on their feet, still talking. Everything done was talked through and masterfully executed. You definitely had to be their leader.

Without much difficulty, you were able to disarm your opponent, turning to the one you assumed the place of with a nod, handing them back their sword. Some of the students watching even clapped. Eddie looked on in disbelief at the scene that just unfolded. Wow. He looks down at his half empty plate. Those look like real heroes.

The rest of his lunch was spent taking bites of his food as he looked out the window, utterly intrigued. A cough of someone clearing their throat brings Eddie out of his trance. He whips his head around to see Matthew the Guide looking down at him. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time I take you to your dorm for you to become acquainted with your new roommate.” He says with a small, kind, and a little awkward smile. Eddie raises his brow and nods.

“Whatever you say,” Eddie stands, bringing his backpack up with him. He stands an inch or so above Matt. He cocks his head to the side and gives him a sarcastic grin. “Dashing young fellow.” Eddie says, mimicking Matt's English accent. Matt's small smile drops a bit. He sighs, a small glare squinting his eyes.

“We’ll be waiting for you over by the doors.” He turns and strides away. Eddie huffs out a puff of air. He picks up the remnants of his lunch and drops it off at a trash can on his way to where Henry and the other two new kids stand. “Alright, now that we’re all here.” He smiles sarcastically at Eddie before turning to the other two with a more genuine smile. “Let’s head to the dorms.”

Matt leads the three to the different student housing areas. They dropped off the teenage girl to her building, Matt handing her off to that building’s dorm manager. Next was the young boy Eddie would come to know as Anthony. He was dropped off at his door as he, Eddie, and Matthew all stayed in the same building. Once he disappeared behind the door with his new roommate, Matt and Eddie were left alone. “Come on.” Matt says, walking away without sparing another glance at Eddie. Eddie’s lip turns up in a grimace.

“Hey, man. Careful with the attitude.” He bites back, catching up with Matthew. He scoffs.

“Me? You’re the one with an attitude, young fellow.” Matt gives Eddie a hard look. Eddie is stubborn with his defiance.

“Whatever, man.” Eddie scoffs and looks away.

“Listen, I understand if you are not necessarily happy to be here, but you don’t need to be rude.” Eddie’s brows raise in disbelief.

“I’m not being rude, and don’t act like you know anything about me. You’re the one who gave me a weird look the second I get here.” Eddie shoots back. Matt sighs.

“Like Shaw said, we don’t usually get new students over the age of 16, so I was just a bit caught off guard. I admit it may have not been very welcoming, but I don’t think that should get me on your bad side before we’ve even gotten to know each other.” Matt goes on.

Eddie glances over at the guide through his peripheral. They enter the empty elevator, heading up. Matt stares forward with his jaw clenched, obviously annoyed that he has to be in an enclosed space with Eddie. There’s a few seconds of silence after the doors close before Eddie sighs.

“Look, man.” Eddie starts. “I’m sorry. These past few months have really turned my world… upside down.” Eddie frowns with a thousand yard stare. Henry spares Eddie a glance over his shoulder. Eddie rolls his shoulders back, bringing himself back to reality. “I’m used to being Eddie ‘The Freak’. Ironically, even here I’m a freak among ‘freaks’.” The way Matt doesn’t even bat an eye at being called a freak is a bit strange for Eddie. “I guess, I just came in swingin’, preemptively judging you too early.” Eddie tilts his head. “You kind of remind me of this one guy, ‘The King’ of Hawkins. He was a pretty big asshole to ‘freaks’." Matthew nods understandingly. “But, what do you know, he turned out alright when I met him again later.” Eddie sighs, “Sorry.”

“You know, you should realize something,” Eddie looks up, eyes on the back of Matt's head as he stares forward. “Nevermore is a school just like every other, but most people here are coming from a place in your shoes. Sometimes people here forget, but outside these walls, beyond that gate, we’re all just freaks, monsters,... evil to the rest of the world.” Matt looks down the bridge of his proud nose with a familiar distant stare. The elevator doors open and Matthew walks out without missing a beat.

They pass a few doors before Matt speaks up again. “I am your ‘mentor’,” He halts in front of a door, turning to Eddie, “I am not your enemy.” He looks Eddie in the eyes with determination, trying to get through to him. “You should know, even if we are not meant to be ‘friends’, I am still an ally. If you need help with anything, you can reach out to me.” Eddie holds Matt's gaze, unsure of what to say next. He’s never gotten an actual warm welcome before. Matt's lips form a thin line as he gives Eddie a tight smile before nodding once. He lifts a hand to knock on the door they are outside of.

There's stumbling and a commotion on the other side of the door. Eddie’s brows crease in suspicion at the noises, but Matt just sighs and rolls his eyes. The door swings open revealing a young, dark skinned boy with wide, shocked eyes. He was huffing like he just ran a marathon, undoubtedly from stumbling over stuff in the room to get to the door. “Junior.” Matt says in a warning tone through gritted teeth and an annoyed smile. Junior avoids Matt's eyes by awkwardly staring at anything on the floor.

Eddie glances between Matt and the kid, Junior. Matt turns to Eddie, “Eddie, meet Junior,” He turns to gesture to the kid. “Your new roommate.” Matt raises a threatening brow at Junior. “Junior, meet Eddie.”

“H-Hi,” The kid’s voice cracks awkwardly, “Come- Come on in.” Junior turns to walk away from the door, going further into the room. Eddie glances one last time at Matt. Matt looks over to Eddie with a sigh and raises his brows.

“Good luck.” He mutters as he walks away. Before Eddie can follow up with Matt's concerning final words, Junior starts rambling.

“Here, over here is your bed, obviously as it’s the empty one, and over here is mine, obviously. Um, I moved some things around, but you’re more than welcome to move anything around how you’d like, I mean, as long as, you know, you leave my side of things alone, unless you want this side, we- we can figure something out that works for both of us. Over there,” he turns to point at a door next to the one Eddie just entered through. “That- That’s the bathroom. It’s pretty nice, we have a tub, shower, sink, toilet, everything needed, and, uh,” Junior keeps rambling as Eddie slowly walks through the space.

It’s shockingly spacious. Once he passes the entryway, the place expands into a large, square room. This is nothing Eddie expected for a dorm. The full-sized beds are on opposite sides of the room with enough respective furniture for two people. Each side has its own bed, dresser, desk with a lamp and chair. Junior has a foldable, wooden divider next to his bed, blocking his bed from Eddie’s. On either side of the room were two archways leading into an extra individual area. Without being too nosy, Eddie could see that Junior’s side has a plant and a bookshelf. His side seemed a bit barren.

Eddie back glances at Junior’s side, finding it an odd mixture of neat and messy. The younger’s clothes were filling a dirty laundry hamper to the brim, but there was not a trace of anything on his floor. His mirror was squeaky clean, but his dresser had different, mismatched knickknacks littered over the top. His desk had papers spewed all over with multiple open books, but the chair was tucked in and pens, markers, and pencils were organized by color and size in a storage container. His bed wasn’t made, but he had shiny shoes neatly lined under the bed frame.

The rambling kid himself was set up in a similar fashion, his appearance is pristine, his white shirt tucked into ironed pants, shoes shined, necktie tightened and perfectly aligned, but man, the kid would not take a breath. “It’s nice to meet you.” Eddie interrupts whatever he was on about. Junior comes to a complete stop, turning to Eddie with raised brows.

“Sorry, I forgot my manners.” He shoots out a hand with his chin lifted high, back straight as a board in perfect posture. “Junior Shaw. It’s a pleasure to meet you, mister.” Eddie slowly reaches out to shake Junior’s hand. He raises a brow with a small smile.

“Shaw?” They shake hands for a bit too long due to Junior not knowing when to let go.

“Yeah… He’s my dad.” Junior tilts his chin down to hide his face. This is the first time Eddie notices the small horns growing atop his head, just barely peeking out in his thick dark hair. Eddie nods as his smile grows. “Oh.” Junior drops his hand. “Sorry.” The awkwardness of the kid makes Eddie’s heart swell. It’s oddly comforting. “Uh…” Junior trails, seemingly trying to fill the silence but not knowing what to say.

Eddie walks off, heading over to his side of the room. His eyes immediately land on the bed, seeing his new uniforms and his old suitcase. That was fast. He runs his fingers gently across the striped fabric. “Oh!” Junior says abruptly, grabbing Eddie’s attention. He turns to see Junior running to his dresser, picking something up, and turning to rush up to give it to Eddie. “Here.” He hands Eddie a small welcoming gift. It was a gift basket with some pens, pencils, notebooks, and other miscellaneous school supplies. On top of it all was a purple card with gold writing on it. ‘Welcome, Edward!’ it read, causing Eddie to bite back a small smile. “I know,” He raises a brow looking up from the basket to Junior. “It’s kind of cheesy, but my dad said giving you a welcome gift would make you feel more… welcome… yeah.” He says. Eddie gives him a kind smile.

“Thanks, kid.”

“Welcome.” He says before walking away to go to his desk and sit in the wooden chair. Eddie takes a seat on his bed, next to his uniforms, and places the welcome gift beside him on top of the neatly folded clothes. “So, uh…” Junior starts, “You’re kind of old…er… older. Older than the usual new students.” Eddie chuckles and nods.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just curious, is all. Sorry.”

“No worries. I’ve been getting it all day.” He tilts his head. “You know I’m not old. I’m only 19, going to be 20 this year.” Junior nods without looking up at him, instead focusing his eyes on the papers on his desk.

“That’s cool. My dad told me we’re taking in more students, probably opening up a new department or something like that. So, how’d you end up here?” Junior asks absentmindedly. The question takes Eddie off guard a little. What is he supposed to say? He turned into a monster and attacked his uncle after dying in battle in an alternate dimension. Would that make sense even here? Junior takes Eddie’s elongated silence as a sign. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You don’t have to tell. Told you, I’m just curious, probably too much for my own good.”

“I… acquired some new… powers?” Eddie thinks of how to word an explanation without going too in depth. “So, I got sent here to try and help… control them.”

“Oh, an Acquirer. That makes sense.” Eddie tilts his head in intrigue at the new title, but before Eddie can ask for clarification, Junior bombards him with some questions. “Have you looked at any of your classes yet, seen any clubs, you know, if you’re into that? Were you in any clubs or sports back when you were in your old school?”

“No,” he chuckles, “No sports. I’m not a sports guy.” Junior nods. “But I did have a club I was leading, called Hellfire.” Junior turns in his chair to look at Eddie with a curious look.

“Hellfire? What was it about?” Eddie’s eyes light up a bit, now that’s a question he loved to answer.

“Well, it was a mystical gathering of the most daring and creative minds.” Eddie began with a smirk and squinted eyes, enjoying the familiar innocent curiosity on the young boy’s face. “Creatures of all kinds, from all over would gather to travel together and fight great battles, solve fantastical mysteries, and establish their title as heroes.” Eddie says in a theatrical tone, drawing Junior’s interest. Eddie chuckles, shaking his head and looking down. “It was a club where I would host DND campaigns after school.” He smiled, reminiscing. Junior raises his brows and nods.

“Oh, I’ve heard about DND! Sounds a lot like Slayers, just minus the tabletop portion.” Eddie lifts his head to the smiling boy.

“Slayers, huh?’ Junior nods.

“Yeah, Dungeon Slayers Club, officially, but we just call it Slayers for short. It was kind of inspired by DND, but you know, we’re the actual ‘creatures’.” Junior explains. “It takes all the fun of DND and brings it into real life. We really train and fight and go on quests and everything. It’s really fun.” He beams.

“Is that the club with the emblems on their backs, the group of students out in that courtyard during lunch?” Junior’s brows raise.

“Yeah. I wasn’t there during lunch today. Usually, the lunch gatherings are just us hanging out during our break. The real club takes place after school.” Junior says matter-of-factly. “First official meetup of the season is tomorrow.” Eddie nods.

“Think I can come and check it out?” Junior's brows raise again, and his eyes go wide.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I mean, we’re always welcoming to new people, at least they were with me. I was the last person who joined, but, uh we’re not really the most popular group.” He rambles. “Slayers doesn’t really have the best reputation. It’s kind of…infamous? Most of the other students see us as a paranoid bunch of…well, losers, like end of the world preppers or stuck in the past people or whatever. I don’t know if you’d want to start yourself out by associating yourself with us. You- You may want to check out something else like the fencing team or- or something” He says bouncing his gaze around in one of his awkward antics.

“No,” Eddie stops him, “I want to check it out.” He says firmly. Junior, though a bit shocked, becomes excited.

“Oh Okay, well, tomorrow then, I can bring you with me to the club during lunch so you can meet some of the members and maybe we can get you to talk to the leader. They’re awesome.” Junior begins with a glint in his eye. “They’ve been heading Slayers for, like, the last four years, been in the club for even longer. They’re so cool, really.” He says seriously, nodding his head. “If the world ever did come to an end. They’re definitely someone you’d want on your side. They’re, like, really amazing. They can out fight and out smart anybody, I swear.” He nods in approval. Eddie smiles. I wonder if this is how they talk about me. I hope so. Junior turns back to the homework on his desk, “They’re a great leader. You’d like them, 100%.” He nods again.

Eddie and Junior sit in a comfortable silence, the loudest noise coming from Junior’s pencil against paper. Eddie stands after a minute or two and begins unpacking his things, organizing his half how he wants. “Do you usually study in silence, or is it just cause I’m here?” Eddie asks as he closes his last drawer and turns to look at the back of Junior.

“No, I usually work this way. Sorry if that’s weird, but- but don’t worry about me. If you want to play music or watch something, don’t worry about me.” He lifts a hand to wave dismissively. Eddie nods and walks away from the dresser.

“You know, I think I’m going to do a little exploring.” Eddie announces as he heads to the door. Junior lifts his head.

“Oh, do you want me to come with? I could help show you around.” He offers, but Eddie shakes his head with a wave of his hand.

“No, just continue with your work. I’ll be fine. I’m just gonna wonder and get familiar.” Eddie says with a small smile. “Be back later, kid.” He turns to leave without another word.

As soon as Eddie is outside of the dorm building, he decides to just pick a direction and start walking. He walks around the campus, again getting some looks from passing students as he’s the only one out of uniform. He leisurely wanders around, eventually stopping in an outdoor hallway that surrounds a small courtyard in the middle of one of the buildings. As he stands there, he stares at a familiar stranger’s face.

You were sitting at the end of a wooden bench at one of the picnic tables. In front of you, sat on top of the table was a boy with ivory skin and brown, fluffy, curly hair. He was slim but obviously muscular and had a killer smile that you couldn't help but return. Sat beside you was the same onlooker he saw earlier, the one who stood beside the boulder at lunch.

She seemed a bit more relaxed and was leaning on her elbows that were rested on the table in front of her. Her brown waves were loose from their little ponytail and now let down, cropped at her shoulders. She was also looking up at the boy who was talking, quite animated, about something Eddie couldn't quite hear.

Though you didn't know of his existence and he had never spoken a word to you, Eddie couldn’t help but admire your smile. It was easy to get distracted by you. Aside from being a total warrior badass, you were simply gorgeous. The shine in your eyes, the way the world around you brightens with your smile, the curves of your nose, the creases of your face as it contorts with laughter. This is the leader of the ‘infamous' ‘loser’ club? It was confusing. Eddie couldn't comprehend how anyone could not like whatever had your stamp of approval. You and your personality screamed positively infectious and contagious. It was plain to see. Even from a distance, Junior’s fanboying over you made total sense.

Eddie stood in the shadows of the hall just watching you and your interactions with your friends. He couldn't help but feel a bit envious. Abruptly he winces, flinching at the all too familiar feeling in his brain.

The sharp migraines he'd gotten ever since waking up in that place have started to dull, feeling more akin to an unreachable itch or a fuzzy static. He didn't know if the pain was weaker or if he was just building a tolerance. Eddie sighs, opening his eyes to see you and your friends standing and collecting your things. Before any of you can notice his presence, he takes his leave, disappearing out of the courtyard corridors and closing in on a new found back exit off campus.

Eddie walks along the road that leads up to the campus before he makes his way into the wooded area that lines the pavement. Once he feels he's gone far enough, the buzzing itch returns. He groans, annoyed at the feeling.

He knows he's alone out here, but he can't help himself from looking around him to see if anyone is watching. Once he decides the coast is clear, he kneels down, closes his eyes, and takes a few deep breaths, slowing his heart rate. He reaches a hand out and rests it on the massive trunk of the fallen tree he'd stopped in front of. He takes deep breaths during the entire exchange, feeling the wood beneath his fingers shift.

The feeling of a numb rush floods his veins as the headache dissipates. He knows that means he's done right. He opens his eyes, seeing the newly opened glowing gate. Again, he looks around him before looking back at the portal. Every time he opens a new door between worlds, that area in the back of his brain tells him he's done something right, but his heart still makes him feel like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar, constantly scared he's going to get caught doing something he's not supposed to.

One of these new found powers of his was the ability to open passages from this world to the other. At first, it felt wrong. There were so many bad memories there, but he'd always felt compelled to open these doors. Now, it's more so akin to a guilty pleasure, something he knows he shouldn't enjoy, but he can't resist. It calls to him. Plus if Vecna is dead, what is so wrong about it?

prev - next

Evermore Tag List (OPEN):

@ali-r3n  @mother-oshun @madelynraemunson  @starmilks @ohmeg

Swisslist (General Tag List):

@rosecentury @solacedthistest

[shinsouscatpisssmell]

Chapter 1

Masterlist

"That's it? I got the good ending but why do I feel so unsatisfied with it?"

The city streets are bustling with noises from cars and trucks honking horns and screeching their tires to the clacking of people's shoes and idle chatter.

One of those people being you, (Y/N) (L/N), currently waiting at the cross walk for it to turn green so you can get back to work since its been up for a good 5 minutes since your lunch break ended.

"I only played it for the villianess anyways but in the end she died." mumbling to yourself and in truth that was truly the only reason you got hooked on the game after a Co-worker showed you the character , Sasha Evermore, who looked and acted exactly like you minus the master manipulator part. She was part of a otome game called “to catch a prince”, a game that popped out of nowhere and instantly became a hit amongst the crowd that includes you.

The weird part was as you started the game the parts with sasha would pang your heart with sadness,disgust, and anger but always written it off as indigestion or heartburn. You pitied her for some odd reason but others look at you crazy when you express this notation to them. Writing it off as just another one of your favs getters killed off to further write the protagonist’s narrative.

Sighing and holding the app down you press the tiny 'X' next to it and clicked the "delete app".

Only,it didn't delete. You repeated the same steps and still nothing. You hold it down and move it to ensure you're not crazy. that it was there. Trying one more time to do it; you never noticed how you were planted in the middle of the crosswalk. So into your own world you never heard the screams of the people who sat on the sidelines or the horn of the truck coming full speed and unable to hit the the brakes in time.

It was when you registered what was happening that is was to late. Your phone flee in the air and landed next to you with a cracked screen and fighting to stay on. Mangled body twitching in its last moment as people gather to gaze upon you like an animal in the zoo. Some calling the police and the trucker sputtering out apologizes. No one saw your eyes flicker to your screen that miraculously light up with a single message and angelic voice to accompany it " @яε ¥ꪮʊ яε@∂¥ ⊥ꪮ εҳ⊥я@ḉ⊥ ¥ꪮʊя яεṽεηɠε, ʟꪮ⊥⊥ʟε ꪮηε?"

Your brain bloated and swollen from impact that you couldn't recognize the familiar warm voice. It was in a instant your phone began to shake and shoot out a beam of white light that sucks you in as you succumb to darkness.

ꕥꕥꕥꕥ

"He...llo? Hello~?"

Groaning in response and holding your head trying to register what is happening. Slowly blinking trying to adjust to the light in the room.

"You're finally up?" the soft voice next to you speaks sweetly to you as the clanking of cups and bowls hit eachother until they meet a bedside table.

Sitting up and looking over you are met with the sight of a long blue haired that framed a round brown woman. Her eyes are the darkest purple that had literal stars in place of pupils and her smile she stares at you with is the brightest stunning white. She stands in some sort of white sheer dress showing off her cleavage while she tilts forward to hand you the bowl of food.

You take it hesitantly and look from the bowl back up to the large woman a few times waiting for her to tell you that you're in heaven but nothing was said. The only thing you saw was her child like innocent aura as she stays seated close to the large bed you laid upon watching as she's aswaits for you're approval.

"I'm sorry but who are you… Where am I? Wasn't I...dead?" You push the ceramic bowl away and the feel of the deflation of the atmosphere around the woman's.

"oh? I um—I am sorry," she pokes her pointer fingers together and puffs out her cheeks, " I got caught up with meeting my favorite person and I didn't bother to introduce myself. My name is Hesitia . I am the entity that brought you back to life...twice. Kind of hurt that my idol doesn't remember me." She snaps her fingers making the bowl disappear.

"Brought back? Died twice?" You could see her nod her head to confirm your mini question, " what do you mean by idol? No wait, How did I die twice?"

"That's a lot to explain. Come,let me show you." She stands at her full height of 7'2 while pushing her hair behind her ears while extending a hand out to you.

Taking it without hesitation. Being determined to find out anwsers as you get pulled to your feet. Not expecting to be wearing the same sheer white gown as the large woman but more tailored to your size.

She brings you to an open space that has tall and pristine pillars surrounding the large area. She pulls you into her side and drape her arm over your shoulder.

"You have no sense of personal space ,huh?" you ask peeking up at her.

"nope," she giggles and pops her 'p'," now shush and watch." Waving her hand the area goes pitch black except two large orbs that held two human beings wrapped up in themselves. Hesitia and yourself walk up to them your steps illumanting one by one all the way.

You put your hand against the one you couldn’t recognize with such care and stare at it with awe, " is that...me?" You look back at the brown skinned deity with stars in your eyes.

"Yes,those are both versions of yourself. Right now your soul is preserved in this room I created when you first died," she puts a hand on your  shoulder as if she knew the next question, " like I've stated before this isn't your first time being dead, my little one. The first you had met a unfair end. To make is simplier, Have you ever heard of the woman Sasha evermore?"

"You mean the villainess from how to capture a prince?"

"precisely,lovely.  Except sasha is actually you. I made the game for you not to forget where you started. But I guess now that I say it out loud, its confusing and complicated. I'm still new to the whole resurrection plot. I was just so excited to meet my idol." She scratches her cheek in embarrassment.

"how can there be two of me? And how am I your idol?"

" well I've been assigned to watch over you since I came out of goddess training ,hehe. You were so powerful and demanding in everything you did since you were born. It made me become quite a fangirl," she giggles," how there is two of you is like what I stated before. Your first life you had died by your one true ,love. So in love you had choose to walk down the road of being naive and oblivious to his actions.Personally,He was not my cup of tea but sadly I can’t interfere. That’s a Different department and lots of paperwork I don’t wanna do. But to sum up the rest you were put to death after being framed and I as your personal goddess and guardian chose to strike a deal with you."

" Can I ask what deal former me made?"

" of course!" She claps her hands together and pulling them apart as a golden contract is constructed in the space," when I brought your soul here the first time. You told me you wanted revenge on those who wronged you. Your heart was tainted black and as the rules state I needed you to have a pure and clean one in order to make that happen.  But since you are my #1 I slightly bent the rules with some help, “she leans in to whisper yell , between you and me I owe favors to a lot of my older sisters.” She squished the golden paper making it disappear.

"So am I officially dead now?"

"No you aren't dead, silly. What would happen to the story! I just had to wipe your memories and put you in your once current timeline to make your heart pure again. Sorry about the truck. I couldn’t think of another way,but now what I can finally do," she gathers you in a hug and squeezes you letting your feet dangle off the ground, " is send you back to before you met your unfortunate demise by that vile woman."

"Vile woman?"

"Tut tut. I can't give away to much information or I'd get in trouble with the big guy upstairs." the dark space disappear and restore the room to its originality as she carries you back to the bed.

"I'm going to put you back to sleep because I can’t keep you here for long but when you awake you should be back in your past self’s body and you should retain memories from your modern self and this conversation. As I can not interfere I can only allow you to have a few memories of your previous life. The rest you will have to discover over time. Now you might feel a bit dizzy it’s a side effect of gaining your past memories,” she places a kiss on your forehead, “Please remember I'll be with you, (y/n) and will check in on you."

It was her final words to you before putting you back in a state of slumber.memories from a being you couldn't remember come back to you like a train hitting you.

"lady (y/n), you are to ne the betroth to prince izuku Midoriya." You at a young age are holding hands with a green haired boy that looks to be of the same age.

"She pushed me down, Zuku" the green haired boy is now holding a brown haired girl closely to him as you’re on the ground. In a crowded place.

"Disgusting vile woman. Such a title for an orphan" this time you’re in a col dripping wet cell. Chains bounding your legs and hands together as a older man shoos away the knight that was guarding it.

Your eyes shoot open to light shining from a large window at the side of the bed. Blinking the sleep away as you look around the decorated room. Your first instinct was to look into the mirror that is across from your bed and you remember the opening scene of the game. The pajamas where the same as the villainess in the game. You try to move from the bed to gain a closer look but a hit of wooziness and a turning stomach hits you like a bat and you fall over. You try to grab onto the bed for footing but you miss it by a inch thus making you hit your head and passing out on the ground.

Taglist(o´ω`o)ﾉ🔖: (send in an ask, comment, or dm)

Previous//masterlist//next

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

I'm almost done with my first work for linked universe!!

I CAN'T WAIT ANY LONGER SO HERE'S A SHNEAK PEAK, IT'LL BE UP IN A BIT, I PROMISE 🫶🏻🐝

Time was seated on a log, carving at a piece of wood, while Hyrule and Sky mixed up a salve to help soothe your aching muscles. Four was polishing his sword, sitting next to Wars, who was twirling a small knife in his hand. Wind was snoozing away peacefully at your side, snoring loudly. Twillight was leaning on Epona, gently stroking her mane. She had decided she needed a break too and let herself rest underneath a nearby tree. Legend was kicking rocks. Literally. He paced around the camp and seemed deep in thought, kicking away a small stone every so often. And you? Well, you were in the middle of all of this. But you loved every second of it. It was overall quiet, except for the sounds of nature or the ones your companions were making. The soft sound of Wind's snores, Times wood carving, and the grinding of the mortar and pestle interrupted by the occasional scrape of Legends boots against the ground. And then there were the smells. The smokiness of the fire, the herby scent of the tincture Sky and Hyrule were concocting, and the mouth-watering aromas of Wild's hearty meat stew were filling your nose. As exhausting and draining the journey has been, these moments where everything seemed.. like it would be alright, would replenish your energy as well as your soul for evermore. You couldn't help but smile, looking over at Wind, who was still napping next to you. Staring off into the distance, you admired the grand view that was Hyrule. The towering mountains, green meadows and trees, the pink and orange sky all accompanied by the castle at the horizon. What a sight. You wished it would be under different circumstances, though. Ones where there wasn't in underlying feeling of dread settling in your stomach, wondering how long until everything was turned upside down again. This was too good to be true. But just for a moment, you allowed yourself to bask in the warm embrace of Hyrules setting sun, surrounded by your Links, your friends, companions, and Heroes.

I can't wait for all of you to read it! 🩷

Home is where the Heart is 🌱

@pinkalmondcake 👀

@vampkennedy 👀

[fuiabarcelos]

Champagne problems: Is love pain?

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader.

Summary: She wanted to get married, he wanted to break up. Or was it just a mistake?

Bingo: a evermore song - Champagne problems.

Genre: Lots of angst (the flashback is fluffy) - 4600 words

Warnings: Soulless Sam breaking the reader's heart, attempted suicide, mental health, depression, psychiatric hospitalization, toxic family, manipulation.

A/N: I'm not fluent in English, so a lot of mistakes can happen.

He entered the room next to Dean. As soon as your eyes met his, you felt your shoulders relax and remembered the feeling of having a heart again, it was beating like every time you saw him. It's amazing how Sam was able to restore the love inside you with just his presence.

You ran into his arms and hugged him, as tightly as you could, smelling his scent. Being close to him restored the good feelings that had long been lost and you finally allowed yourself to remember the day you had struggled to forget since he left.

The memory of the happiest day of your life has become the most painful in the last year.

"I can't believe you brought me here again!" You exclaimed happily. You were in the restaurant where he asked you to date. Since that night you've never been back.

It had been completely renovated, and you only recognized it by the shiny signboard with the restaurant's name and the gigantic fork at the entryway.

"I thought we could reminisce about old times. The food wasn't the best, but that night was incredible."

"I vividly remember you praising the dessert for days!" Sam made an offended expression, as if he was being accused of something he didn't do, when, in fact, they both knew that what you said was true. You laughed before continuing, "But I must agree, it was an incredible evening."

The food had improved and Sam was again praising the dessert.

"Why don't you order one more?" You asked when he'd finished eating.

"That's a great idea, but I have other plans."

"I know!" You said as you grabbed a napkin and wiped the remnants of chocolate from his mouth "We're going for a walk in the park."

"How did you guess?"

"Sam... Do you think I don't understand what's going on here? You're recreating our first date. You brought me to this restaurant, ordered the same food, the same drinks, the same desserts..."

"I forgot you're a smart girl" he joked " Let's go?"

The night was calm and silent. The sky was completely illuminated by several stars that shone incessantly next to the moon, which in turn reflected its beauty on the lake in front of you.

"It's such a beautiful night," you sighed, enjoying the silence and the warmth of Sam's hands in yours.

"Just like you" When you looked at Sam, his eyes were shining while he looked at you. The whole time he was admiring you.

"You're still that boy completely in love from that night."

"Yes, and in love with the same woman" He smiled. You always knew that this smile would one day be the reason for your breakdown. Seeing Sam smile gave you an inexplicable feeling of happiness, as if nothing else in the world mattered. As if there were nothing more beautiful.

And then you were finally in the field by the lake. Full of colorful flowers that looked the same under the moonlight, but you had a clear memory of what it was like to be here during the day. This place managed to be beautiful in both shifts.

Not as beautiful as Sam.

You watched him as he walked alone towards the flowers, just after asking you to wait a moment. His body was illuminated by the stars, standing out in the middle of the field of flowers, and exuded the essence of his romantic and ethereal nature. It was obvious to you that he was picking a flower, just as he had done so many years ago, a gesture that echoed his admiration for you.

It wasn't long before he came back, gently pushed your hair aside (which certainly gave you more goosebumps than usual) and put the beautiful flower in your ear. Now the two of you were smiling intensely at each other, not wanting this moment to end.

Sam brought his lips close to your cheek and kissed you gently a few times. He knew exactly how to show his love.

The thoughts that you didn't deserve this, didn't deserve all this love exploded in your mind, you were ready to push him away and ask him to go. He and his love made you so vulnerable and at the same time so happy, it scares you!

"This is where you asked me to date you" Instead of asking to go away, you tried to push the thoughts away and relive the memories of that perfect night "You were so nervous, but you managed to make me so happy."

"I hope to keep you happy for the rest of my life" His hands slipped into his pants pocket, pulling out a red box. Sam knelt on the ground, not caring that the grass would soil his jeans. You widened your eyes when you realized what was happening and thought you'd faint at any moment "I've been planning this for a while because I wanted it to be perfect. You're the woman I love and want to love forever, having you as my girlfriend for all these years has been the best thing that's ever happened to me, but it's still too little for me. Y/n, I want to put a ring on your finger, walk you down the aisle dressed in white, kiss you in front of everyone after the yes and finally have you as my wife."

"Sam... You can't do this" Your face was soaked with tears. There was little air in your lungs and you were dizzy, very dizzy. "I love you and what I want most is to spend the rest of my life with you, but..."

Sam was already prepared for any "negative" reaction you might have, because he had known you for many years and had fought with you to cure you of this feeling that you weren't worthy of any love.

He knew that proposing would bring back your traumas, the memories of your father beating your mother, your grandmother cheating on your grandfather and him threatening to kill her. You were in the middle of these failed marriages, but they always claimed that this was love.

For you, love is suffering.

That's why Sam made a point of reliving the day you first went out and started dating, because he knew it would bring you comfort.

"Y/n, sweetheart" He said, still kneeling down "We've talked about this, you do deserve to be loved, because love is nothing like what you've witnessed. You don't need to be afraid. I'll be here for you and I'll never make you suffer."

"I didn't want my champagne problems to spoil this moment, forgive me."

"You didn't ruin anything, don't worry, baby" He ran his hands through his hair before holding yours and looking into your eyes "So... Will you marry me?"

You took a deep breath and remembered all the happiness Sam had brought you since you were together. He was telling the truth when he said he would never hurt you, you're sure of that.

"Yes, Sam! I agree to become your wife."

He finally put the ring on your finger and pulled you into a slow, loving kiss. You spent the whole night leaning against a tree, sitting on Sam's lap as you told stories and exchanged many, many kisses.

You would marry the man you thought didn't exist. A romantic, respectful and extremely handsome man. You would marry Sam Winchester.

Now he is finally here. A year after he said yes to Lucifer and fell into the cage.

After Sam left, Dean went his own way and tried to have a normal life with Lisa and Ben. Even with the pain of losing his brother, he seemed happy with the life he was leading and you were happy for him. You had helped them on a few hunts before and you knew how hard this life is.

As for you, after Sam fell into the cage you distanced yourself from everyone, as you felt you needed to experience your grief alone. Your family tried to keep in touch, eventually calling to find out why you were missing, but you didn't give any information about the whereabouts of you and your fiancé.

Every night you missed Sam running his hands through your hair before you went to sleep while he told you about his last hunt, his kisses and his gentle touches. You felt like the best part of your life had been forcibly taken away from you and, what's worse, it would be forever.

You thought it would be forever.

You waited for him to hug you back as tightly as he could, move your hair away, hold your face and join your lips to his. You could finally tell him how much you missed him, but he didn't do any of that. Sam just stood there, looking at you as if that hug you'd dreamed of having again meant nothing to him.

"He's a bit confused, Y/n" Dean said "Sam spent a year with Lucifer, it'll take a while for him to get well."

"You're right. I'm sorry, Sam" You believe what Dean said. Sam needed a bit of space to understand and get over everything that had happened "I just... I missed you a lot."

Sam agreed before saying that he needed to go out and take a shower.

He was finally loving you again. It was a little rougher than it used to be, but you felt that it restored the connection between the two of you. Your bodies were giving each other pleasure and love.

Sam kissed you as if he desperately needed you, and you knew he was ready to continue.

"Baby, I'm tired," you said, pulling his lips away from yours to look into his face. You stroked his cheeks gently, feeling now that you needed that moment of cuddling after intense sex and after being without him for a year "We can just stay here for a while, talking and cuddling. I need this moment with you after everything that's happened."

"I'm not interested in doing that now, maybe later," he said. Sam's mouth met his neck where he left an intense, desperate bite. There would certainly be a deep mark afterwards.

You were a little disappointed, because you missed that love that for a long time was a fear and an insecurity, but after the marriage proposal it became what was most important to you. However, you understood Sam's side and realized that he needed to get his head together before being vulnerable to you again.

"You know, I was thinking, now that you're back, we can finally have our engagement dinner with my family. To celebrate our future marriage and your return."

"Anything you want, as long as you keep groaning underneath me."

In a mixture of uncertainty and displeasure, you found yourself giving in. You didn't know if it was blackmail or a way of looking sexy, but you spread your legs more and waited for him to be inside you again, even though you'd had enough.

You spent weeks planning the perfect engagement dinner. Sam's help was needed, but he wasn't willing to plan it, so you did all the work yourself and hoped he liked it.

Sam wasn't back to normal yet, after he came back from the cage he was no longer the sweet, romantic and cute man he used to be. Now he's cold and you constantly find yourself demanding his attention. Sometimes you felt selfish because you didn't like his attitudes and felt you needed to understand his side, because Sam had been trapped with Lucifer for a year, so it was inevitable that this would have affected his mental health.

But it was affecting yours too.

Before, you used to be very mentally unstable, every day you would wake up and wait anxiously for night to come, because sleeping was the only time you didn't feel pain. Sam was there for you, trying to cheer you up and rekindle your will to go on. You still regret putting him through so much pain when you decided to take your own life, but he was there holding your hand in the hospital and he looked after you like no one else had ever done.

You felt that sense of disgust for life coming back, but you couldn't count on Sam this time, not because he didn't care, but because he was already suffering too much.

"I'm so excited!" You said almost jumping up and down as you fixed Sam's tie "Wow... You look so beautiful, my love."

"I could say the same, if you let me show you what I can do with you in the bedroom."

You rolled your eyes, but immediately regretted it. Your displeasure shouldn't have been made so explicit.

It felt like Sam was constantly blackmailing you to get you into bed. You felt that sex was the only thing that mattered to him, that you were only there to satisfy his pleasures. Where's all that affection he used to give you? It was as if love was only coming from your side...

You shook your head, trying to dispel these idiotic thoughts. Of course Sam still loved you, he was just confused. Taking you to bed is his way of showing that he loves you, right?

"We have dinner waiting for us, Sam. We can save that for later." Sam didn't like that answer.

"You'd rather please your stupid family than me? I thought you loved me."

"I love you, I love you very much. But I planned our engagement dinner so carefully, I want to celebrate our wedding" You smiled, trying to calm him down, your hands now on his face, hoping he'd understand your side "We're getting married, Sam! Isn't that amazing? We'll be able to have sex as many times as we want."

Sam clearly wasn't convinced, but gave up arguing. You took his hand in yours and led him into the dining room, where your family was.

"Y/n!" Your grandmother shouted with happiness when she saw you "You look so beautiful in that dress!" She quickly pulled you into a hug "Sam, it's been so long" She came close to hugging you too, but Sam dodged. You were shocked by his reaction and your grandmother was extremely uncomfortable. He realized the mood he had left there and tried to make amends.

"It's great to see you again," he said, holding out his hand to greet her.

"I'm so happy for you, you're the cutest couple I've ever seen. I'm sure this wedding won't have any problems."

If she could see beyond appearances, she would know that you had a lot of problems. That you didn't know if you were happy anymore.

The doorbell rang and you ran to answer it, leaving Sam alone to greet his family. When you opened the door, you saw Dean standing there with a smile on his face.

"How nice of you to come, Dean! I've been waiting for you."

"I wouldn't miss it for anything, I've been waiting for this day for a long time. I brought this" He handed you a bottle of Dom Pérignon.

"Champagne! Thank you so much, Dean."

"A special night deserves a special drink."

Throughout dinner, your family praised your relationship with Sam, they recalled many moments between the two of you at family lunches. It was clear that everyone was happy with the news of the engagement, except for one person... The fiancé.

You asked everyone to stand up, because you had finally plucked up the courage to make the speech you had prepared.

"Sam and I really appreciate everyone's presence, it's very important for us to have everyone here to support and celebrate this new phase in our lives" You took a deep breath before looking at the man you wanted to spend eternity with, the man who had sworn eternal love to you "I never thought I'd get to this point of announcing to everyone that we're getting married. Since I met you, you've ignited a love inside me that I didn't even know was there. You brought happiness into my life and loved me just the way I am. I want you to know that I'll always be by your side, Sam, and I can't wait to wear a white dress and marry you." You smiled and dried the lonely tears that ran down your cheeks "I love you so much, love."

Your relatives applauded the scene and you hoped to see some trace of happiness in Sam. You expected him to declare his beautiful words of love to you or to tell you that he loved you too. He didn't, he just stood there with his disgruntled expression.

"Are you all right, Sam?" You whispered.

"Not in fact. I'm tired of all this drama. Of pretending that I care about you so that I can get you into bed, just because having sex with you is so fucking good." Everyone there was in shock at your fiancé's shouting. "I don't care about you, Y/n, and I don't even love you. I don't even know why I agreed to come to this shitty dinner with this family that thinks they're perfect when, in reality, they hate each other to the core."

"Sam... Stop it, please" you pleaded tearfully.

"What's gotten into you?" Dean shouted from across the dining room.

"You're so naive, Y/n. You were doing everything for me, thinking that at some point I'd reciprocate. How could you think I loved you or would marry you?" In a rage, Sam took off his engagement ring and threw it into his champagne glass "Enough of all this."

He slammed the door before driving off, starting his car and disappearing into the darkness.

In the meantime, one of the songs you'd made a point of putting on the playlist was playing in the background, as it was by Sam's favorite singer: Blue Suede Shoes by Elvis Presley.

"One for the money, to for the show"

"I wasn't ready for this, so I watched you go," you thought.

Your headache uncontrollably with so much information, your family kept telling you that Sam was a horrible man and that you'd find something better.

- He'd be a lovely husband if he wasn't fucked in the head," said your mother.

You couldn't stand there, in the middle of that chaos. Then, minutes later, you were kneeling on the street, your tears mixing with the rain.

You gave yourself to a man who promised to love you and never hurt you. You gave yourself to the man who broke your heart. Sam Winchester ripped your heart out of your chest and threw it in the trash.

Your depression has consumed you again. The gossip about everything that happened at dinner had spread throughout the city, because your family couldn't hold their tongues. Your mother offered you a room in her house for a few days until you felt a bit better, but staying there was the worst decision you could have made.

Every time someone saw you crying, you were told that you didn't have to be like that and that you would soon find someone better. Your cousin, who always liked to feel superior to you, told you that these were just champagne problems and everyone around you agreed with her. You just wanted to feel welcome.

After realizing that your family didn't care about your suffering, you disappeared. You changed your number, rented an apartment as far away as possible and let the depression take over.

One night, you did it again. It was 11:45 pm when the emergency phone rang and they heard your pleas for help. The paramedics rushed to try and rescue you, you were lying on the floor with deep cuts on your wrists and a pile of empty medicine bottles around you.

At the hospital, when you'd recovered a bit, they asked for an explanation. You had tried to take your own life again. The doctors talked to you about sending you to a psychiatric hospital. You were scared, but you accepted, because you knew you needed help and your family wasn't there for you... Neither was Sam.

How you missed Sam. The Sam who took you to that restaurant, made you smile and, at the end of the night, asked you to officially become his. The Sam who loved you as much as you loved him.

And now you're here, lying on a bed in a mental institution waiting for your next pill.

"Y/n, we're going to have a group therapy session to welcome the new patient, do you want to join?" One of the nurses asked. You were bored, so you agreed. 

You entered the room where the group therapy was to take place, arriving last. You sat down and waited for it to start, but as you looked around for familiar faces, the regret that you had agreed to come intensified.

"This is the new patient, Sam. We decided to do this session to welcome him, Sam is in an advanced state of psychosis and needs to connect with reality."

Sam looked terrible. The dark, deep circles under his eyes showed that he hadn't slept for days, he had several cuts on his face and hands and was clearly exhausted.

He wasn't paying attention to anything the psychologist or the other patients were saying, his eyes were fixed on yours. 

Sam wanted to hug you and apologize for everything that had happened, because he finally remembered all the bad things he had done when he was soulless. He knew about your psychological issues, but he didn't know that you had gotten so bad that you had to be committed to a madhouse.

You couldn't stand to stay in that room for another minute and ran back to your room. Two nurses came after you because they thought you were suffering from a depressive episode, and maybe they were right. At the height of your anguish, you threw yourself on the floor, letting out screams of pain and frustration that echoed off the walls. Your hands ran to your hair and you pulled hard as if you were trying to get the agony out of you.

The nurses acted quickly to contain your physical and emotional suffering, leading you to the bed and immobilizing you to prevent you from hurting yourself even more. It wasn't long before you felt the sting of the medication on your arm and a deep sleep consumed you.

Now you're face to face with the psychiatrist who usually sees you, she's interested in finding out what caused your latest episode.

"He's here... My ex-fiancé."

"That explains a lot. Are you talking about the new patient? Sam" You agreed "I don't know what the reasons were for him acting so rudely towards you, but I know you didn't talk after everything. I can take you to his room, because I know you still have a lot of questions."

"I'm afraid he'll shout those horrible things at me again, he doesn't love me..."

"That's your choice, ever since you got here you told me you wanted to have the chance to talk to him one last time, but if you don't feel ready for that, that's fine."

"Can someone stay close?"

"Of course, you won't be alone."

The walk from your room to Sam's was shrouded in a gloomy atmosphere. Your hands were shaking and your dry mouth was a manifestation of your nervousness. However, you closed your eyes for a moment, took a deep breath and, gathering your courage, entered his room.

The nurse was waiting for you behind the door to give you both privacy, and she promised to keep an eye out for any warning signs.

"Hi, Sam," you said softly, almost crying.

"Y/N!" He came over to you and pulled you into a tight hug. It wasn't the same cold, unaffectionate hug he gave you the day you came back from the cage. There was affection in that hug, but you believed it was just your head sabotaging you to make you feel better. Sam then placed a kiss on your forehead before holding your face and looking into your eyes "I missed you so much."

"It was you who pushed me away. It was you who said you didn't love me, who humiliated me in front of my whole family! You're probably the reason why I'm here!" You pushed him away and tried not to speak too loudly so that the nurse wouldn't think you were having a fight and get you out of there before you finished this conversation.

"I know, but please calm down. Let's talk" He took your hand and guided you to sit on the bed "Y/n, when Castiel went to try to save me, he couldn't get me out with my soul. I came back, but my soul was stuck with Lucifer, until now."

"So you were acting like that because you were without your soul?"

"Yes, with my soul out of my body, there was no emotion left. I did horrible things that for a while I didn't remember. I constantly asked Dean what had happened to you and he never told me the truth, until one day I finally remembered. I looked for you to try to apologize, but I couldn't find you anywhere."

"Why are you here, Sam?"

"My soul is still being tortured by Lucifer. He was sitting there, laughing at both of us." He pointed to an isolated chair in the corner of the room, but there was nothing there. It wasn't psychosis, but Lucifer tormenting Sam.

"That's... Horrible. You don't deserve this."

"Dean and Castiel are looking for a way to cure me." Tears streamed down both your faces, you were suffering for different reasons, but you could understand each other's feelings.

"My family was right, I have champagne problems compared to this."

"Don't say that. Your family doesn't know what they're talking about." Sam's eyes were fixed on yours and you couldn't look away from those eyes that were so beautiful, but now so full of pain "Your problems aren't insignificant and I'm glad you sought help. I'm sorry for everything I did to you, Y/n. I promised I'd never hurt you, that I'd protect you forever, but look where it's gotten you! I hope that one day you can forgive me."

"Do you remember when we stayed in that old hotel and you said it was a madhouse in the 90s and I made a joke: so it was made for us?" You laughed at the memory "Look where we are now."

"You're right," he laughed with you. When you both stopped laughing, you looked at each other again "I've always loved you and I've never given up on walking you down the aisle" His lips were inches from yours and you couldn't wait another minute to kiss him again. It was a kiss that carried with it all the baggage of your intertwined emotions. It was hesitant at first, but soon deepened into a mutual search for solace and connection.

"I need to heal first, Sam. I'm not ready for this."

"I know, and I'm willing to wait as long as it takes. I won't give up on you, because you're the woman in my life."

"Life hasn't been fair to us, but I hope it repents and asks for forgiveness. I need to heal before I can forgive you, Sam."

[silawastaken]

it’s me again. new Taylor swift album. ssk thoughts?

first, i woke up at 4:30 in the morning to listen to this album the moment it came out. And I WAS going through it thinking about skk when I wasn't bawling my eyes out over certain lyrics that were personal attacks

I do want to take a moment to talk about the actual album itself on its own for a moment just because omfg i love it, and something I really liked with tpd in comparison to more of her recent albums, is the music seems very simple, with a focus on lyricism, which had always been a theme with her music, that the lyrics are more important, but it just. It's so well done here.

Also, there's a very nice mix between the synth pop of midnights, and the more acoustic vibes from folklore and evermore in this album, when i listened to the first song i thought the whole album was going to have that same vibe, and was very pleasantly surprised at the first piano track.

Also a lot of the lyrics are very reminiscent of her earlier albums, thinking speak now and fearless. it feels most obvious with i can do it with a broken heart and who's afraid of little old me- which by the way, based off the title I thought i would HATE whos afraid of little old me, but i actually really like it??? like it's a very 'cringe' phrase, it's made fun of mercilessly, but it works surprisingly well.

The songs all seem to have an earlier album they could tie back to, with the same vibes or styles of lyrics, and it's so nice to listen to while thinking of what it could possibly tie back to.

This definitely isn't my favourite album, i was expecting something different i think, but it's still really good, and there are quite a few really good songs on it. guilty as sin? and clara bow are my personal favourites i think :3

But I would like to direct your attention to the second song on the album, 'The Tortured Poets Department'

I LOVE a title drop in a song, it drives me insane for real, and i actually screamed. But more importantly, in reference to this, it is VERY skk to me, like I listened to it and instantly was thinking of how i was going to reference this song in an au some day.

But imo, this song is 100% Chuuya pov skk and well the autism is working overtime so I will be doing an analysis I'm so sorry this is what I'm using my time for but AUGH brainrot im sorry i have interests

'You left your typewriter at my apartment' - starting off by mentioning that this is what i thought of when considering references, because im a sucker for writer skk, and i thought a really cool thing would be Dazai leaving a typewriter behind when he left for some reason, and then Chuuya picking it up and eventually using it, especially with one of the following lines being 'who uses a typewriter anyway?', something he used to judge Dazai for then becoming something he does himself is just *polite clapping* i love it and I will be giving dazai a typewriter at somepoint

'But you're in self sabotage mode, throwing spikes down on the road' - Dazai is very mentally ill, and likely does self sabotage, ESPECIALLY if it were to be his relationship with Chuuya, his bandages are an allegory for the fact that he doesn't let anyone see below the surface of his personality, and that does go for Chuuya as well. He doesn't allow for that kind of vulnerability and in all likelihood, if he were to end up in a situation where he did need to be vulnerable, he'd self sabotage and try and fuck it up just to get out of that situation. However, there's also the next lines;

'But I've seen this episode and still love the show, who else decodes you?' - which is to say that regardless of the 'episode' dazai would be having in that moment, chuuya would still love him, and can decode him to understand what he is doing, which is a VERY skk thing, being able to decode what the other is thinking when they do things, and their intentions. He would be able to work out what was going on, and be able to work things out.

'And who's gonna hold you like me? And who's going to know you, if not me?' - skk have that insane bond that they don't have with anyone else, they know each other better than anyone else, and they both probably know it, regardless of whether they admit it or not, and (don't attack me im a multishipper) they're genuinely unmatched as a duo, there's not another team with either of them that are stronger than the two of them together. Nobody is going to know them the way that they know each other, it's just impossible given how close they had to be, and the environment they were in. The entire Dazai makes Chuuya feel human and Chuuya makes Dazai feel alive thing. As the post chorus says, nobody will do it the same.

'I scratch your head, you fall asleep, like a tattooed golden retriever' - rare moments of vulnerability my beloved, but my specific picking of this line is Dazai's constant insistence that Chuuya is his dog, while frequently behaving in a way(esp ada dazai) that would be more suited to a golden retriever. There's also something I want to say here about the comparison to a dog, by a person he loves. But it is canon that Dazai at the very least does not like dogs, and in fanon he is frequently portrayed as afraid of them.

Here, this could be translated as it being a metaphor, Dazai being vulnerable like a dog, something he is scared of/hates. He isn't just scared of dogs, he's scared of vulnerability in any form, and comparing him to a dog when he is like that would be to emphasise that point, that he hates them both. This also opens the implication that Chuuya is aware of both of these fears.

But he is like a dog, and being vulnerable, and in that moment, he would be exactly what he hates most, his is everything he hates. And Chuuya loves him anyway, despite knowing how much he hates himself. And he makes himself vulnerable around Chuuya, regardless of how much he's scared of it.

'Sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me' - this lyric makes me think of concerns about Dazai leaving again after they reunite at 22, perhaps Chuuya's own concerns of getting too comfortable only for one of their many issues to come and blow everything up in their faces, like how in a earlier lyric the relationship in the song is referred to as a cyclone, the fear is that it gets out of control, even if they know what they're doing, or trying to do.

'But you had told Lucy you'd kys if i ever leave, and i said the same to jack so i felt seen' - oh boy toxic co-dependency time. skk are so co-dependent it's literally insane, their lives often genuinely rest in each others hands, not even mentioning whatever the fuck went on in mersault. From Chuuya relying on Dazai to nullify corruption, to Chuuya being the reason Dazai decided to try living a little in 15, there have been multiple instances in which if it wasn't for the other they would be dead. They trust each other with their lives, and could very easily end up in a state where if one were to leave, the other would make an attempt on their own life (moreso dazai than chuuya, but it really could go either way).

'Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be, cause we're crazy, so tell me, who else is gonna know me?' - Anything else aside, skk are fucking insane. they deserve each other just so they don't bring danger to literally anyone else they interact with. They're insane, especially around/about each other, and again, they're the only ones who fully understand each other. Dazai is the only one left from during stormbringer as well, which is think is important to mention. Dazai was there during sb and the dragons head conflict, both times that Chuuya's friends were killed, if anyone was going to understand how he might have felt after that experience, or what happened, it would be Dazai. They understand each other in ways others would never manage.

'At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger, and put it on the one people put wedding rings on, and that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding' - skk are literally married guys. dating six years, married four years, divorced eight times and broken up 52, but also never stopped dating and are best friends who plan how to kill the other for fun. They're married, but they're also not, but also their souls are tied together in ways not made for the human brain to comprehend. This feels very much like domestic skk fic interactions and i'm 100% here for it.

Anyway, this song is very skk coded and I love it so much, tell me why i spent an hour on this. I don't think this was what you were looking for but... this is what you got. If you want me to go through any other songs like this then i'll do it. I love skk and taylor swift so much i can't even think like im afaifiegbi im pretty sure taylor has a tumblr account so there is like a 0.0000001% she would see this and that has me... panicking but anyway :D i have lots of thoughts all the time and thank you for indulging me with this ask i NEEDED to get this out of my system before i exploded!!!

[jacksonz-bl0g]

uh, tv show lukercy and a casino scene cause, why not!

It's been atleast half a year since they've last seen eachother, since Luke's sword dug into him, since his words had dug even deeper. Percy didn't think about his dark brown curls, and his soft eyes.

He never even had a thought about those features, his features. Atleast not that he'd admit to himself.

There wasn't anything that Luke Castellan did that didn't leave a lasting mark on him, including the scar on his arm.

That brings him to present day. He, Annabeth, and Grover had rejoiced, they kept their word, and, it wasn't long before they were informed of Luke's whereabouts, but, Percy didn't even need to be told.

Luke had slowly begun to replace Kronos in his slumber, speaking to him as if they were still friends, as if Luke didn't fufill Percy's prophecy. It hurt more, to know that what mattered most in the end, He couldn't save.

Well, when they're told that they have to go inside of a Casino, Percy wants to back out. He doesn't want to face the issue at hand, he just can't. But, he must, if not for him, atleast to prevent half-bloods from choosing the same route as Luke. It upsets Percy, that he doesn't get a break from the grief that Luke had strucken into him by leaving, by leaving him.

The Casino was crowded, too crowded for Percy's liking. His ears rung as music played, and people's chattering filled up his ears. He had been forced into wearing a suit. It was blue, and it made his his eyes evermore charming (Annabeth's words, he doesn't quite know if she was complimenting him, or insulting him.)

Annabeth had to help with his own blonde curls, and for good measure, she pinned a lightning bolt onto the cuff of his suit jacket.

Unlike the Lotus hotel, they were able to search seperately, leaving Percy's hand constantly ghosting over riptide, his steps were slow, he was on high alert, his heart thumped in anticipation of coming into contact with Luke again.

"Percy?"

And, the thing that upsets Percy more than anything, is the tension he felt fall off of him at Luke's call of his name. He turns on his heel, looking up, and seeing the dark curls he missed, he longed for.

He didn't pull out riptide, he didn't even have the though of pulling out his sword on Luke.

Luke wore a normal looking suit, except he didn't wear the jacket to it, instead, having it slung over his shoulder. A smirk pulls at his lips as he stared at Percy, and Percy manages to force out a response.

"Luke," Percy said, speaking Luke's name as if he was a god he worshipped, and at this point, Luke basically was.

"You look good, blue's your color." Luke states, his hand coming to rest on Percy's shoulder, and then adjusting the his collar.

"Luke." Percy repeats, his body tensing at Luke's touch, but not stepping away. He steps forward, and leans his head down.

Percy can't help wanting more, he can't help it. It was his first time seeing Luke in months, and Luke has the audacity to speak his name as if he cared—how could Percy not melt?

Luke's hands ghost over the nape of his neck, fingers threading through his blonde curls, and Percy sighs. He forms a sentence, one that isn't just Luke's name.

"Don't leave me again. Please."

[stabbyfoxandrew]

mafia front please :)

WIP Wednesday (9/11) | Mafia Front Restaurant AU (Part 221)

That story almost has Jean wanting to kiss Andrew himself.

Well, not really. But he certainly sees the appeal now. And Jean knows without a doubt that Andrew Minyard had feelings for Kevin. He doesn't know how strong they were. But for a man to stand between you and the world, he has to love you. Jean knows that as well as he knows his name. Nathaniel and he are partners, they stand in front of each other. They love each other. You don't risk yourself for someone you do not love. It's that simple.

For a few minutes, Jean can do nothing but hold Kevin and absorb all these new details. He and Nathaniel had been watching the game, from the West Tower in Castle Evermore— that’s where Ichirou had placed them. He wanted them close, but nowhere near the crowd. He’d even granted them a television, at Neil’s request. (More evidence that Neil’s good looks had some effect on him.)

They cheered when the Foxes won, only to immediately go quiet when Riko drew his racquet back.

“No,” Nathaniel gasped out. Jean had no words to speak, only unbridled fear. Jean remembers the panic that gripped his heart when he realized Riko was rearing back his racquet, then he saw Andrew appear in frame like a phantom. Like he'd always been beside Kevin and merely stepped out of his shadow. After he swung, Jean couldn't believe his eyes. Or his ears.

He couldn't believe Riko could feel pain, that he could scream like that, that his bones were so easily broken. That the King would fall so easily after all the damage he'd done them over the years. It seemed impossible. But Andrew did it. And he made it look easy.

After the video feed cut off and the commentators started rambling, Jean muted the TV and sat there with his head in his hands. Riko was broken, just the way he broke Kevin. Maybe worse. The Ravens were done for, there truly was no going back now. Jean didn't know what to do until he heard Nathaniel's laughter bubbling up his throat, cruel and vicious and perfectly appropriate considering the hell Riko had put them through.

But Jean couldn't join him in celebrating. Not after seeing Kevin's face like that. He tried to call Kevin immediately, but he didn't answer. Then suddenly one of Ichirou's men was pounding on the door. Lord Moriayama was ready to speak with Nathaniel again. Jean wasn't invited, being the third class citizen he was, but he begged the man at the door to let him go to Kevin. He was not allowed. Instead, he was only able to sit there and wait. Only feeling a bit of relief when Nathaniel came back in with wild eyes and a huge grin.

"Jean?"

"Hmm?"

"You're being quiet." Kevin tells him, in a low voice.

"Just trying to process it, that's all." Jean says, nuzzling his face against Kevin's hair. He presses a kiss to Kevin's temple and then another one. "Thank you for telling me."

"I should've told you back then."

"Yeah. But it's okay. There were plenty of things we didn't talk about back then." Jean sighs. "Some things are better left unsaid, I think. That being said… don't keep things from me anymore. I love you. There's not a thing you could do that would make me break up with you. Even if you stabbed Neil, I could forgive you—"

"Hey!" comes from outside the bedroom door. Jean squints toward it.

"Why the fuck do we bother shutting that door?"

"I don't know. It only makes it harder to listen." Neil says loud enough to be heard. Kevin giggles into Jean's chest and Jean sighs.

"Go to bed!"

"Fine." Neil says. Jean listens for a moment, straining his ears for footsteps and the creaky board in front of Neil's door. But it never creaks. 

"He did not leave." Jean grumbles.

"I know." Kevin whispers back, still amused.

"Fucking cockroach."

"You love him."

"Of course I do."