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milfsloverblog · 3 months

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Secret Benefits (part 6)

Sugar mommy!Larissa Weems x fem!reader

A/N: Here it is, after (quite) a long wait. Thank you for your patience! Oh, I actually shed a couple of tears writing this chapter, just warning you guys! I hope you’ll enjoy reading this <3

You couldn’t believe your eyes. So much in fact that you had to rub them to make sure you were seeing straight. Larissa Weems was sitting at your kitchen table.

“Just a second,” you muttered.

You walked to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, not even bothering to use a glass and choosing instead to drink straight from it. You couldn’t remember being that thirsty ever before and the water didn’t seem to help at all.

“I guess we need to talk.” You said as you placed the bottle back inside the fridge.

“Yes, we do. But I don’t think you’re in a fit state to have a serious conversation right now. How’s your head?”

“Hmpf-“ you groaned and looked down, noticing that you were still wearing your outfit from the previous night. You reeked. A nauseating mix of sweat and alcohol.

Larissa noticed the way you stared at your dress and pushed a small sympathetic smile.

“Would you like to take a shower?” She offered.

“I think so, but I’m not sure I’ll have the strength for it.”

“Let me help.” She wasn’t offering this time.

Letting Larissa see you naked would have been a highly arousing thought a few weeks before, but not anymore. Not after what you had done to her.

You closed your eyes as she walked with you to the bathroom, listening to the muffled sounds of her stocking-clad feet against the wooden floor.

“Let me-“ Larissa said when you struggled to reach for the zipper at the back of your dress.

She carefully unzipped it and you heard her breath hitch in her throat.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Larissa quickly answered.

A bitter iron taste filled her mouth as she bit down on her tongue at the sight of the bruises on your spine. She would make that man pay. She didn’t know how yet, but she would.

She helped you step out of the dress that was pooling at your feet before her hands moved to unclasp your bra until she suddenly stopped herself.

“Are you alright with me removing your underwear?” She asked.

You stayed quiet for a few seconds. She was asking for your consent. You had treated her like shit and still, she was showing you sympathy.

“Yes.”

Larissa gave a small nod and unclasped your bra before removing your panties, making a point of keeping her eyes off your body as she did so.

“There,” she said, gesturing towards the shower.

She turned the water on and made sure it was at a nice temperature before letting you in.

You sighed with relief as you stepped under the warm water jet, the gentle pressure massaging your back.

“Should we start with your hair?” Larissa offered, to which you answered with a nod.

Having her hands in your hair would feel less awkward than on your body to start with.

She rolled up her sleeves and poured some shampoo in her hands, waiting for you to turn around before applying it to your hair. She was gentle with her movements, her fingertips massaging your scalp and making sure to thoroughly wash your hair.

You were lost in your thoughts when Larissa suddenly started humming a song, a soft melody that immediately made a lump grow in your throat. You felt like a child. For a moment you were sent back to your childhood home, sitting in the tub as a little girl as your mother bathed you. It must have been a Sunday, you could still smell the cake that was baking in the oven.

You were brought back to reality by Larissa carefully spinning you around.

“I’ll wash your body now if that’s alright.” She waited until you gave another nod before starting to wash your shoulders. You kept your eyes closed as she carefully moved down your body and Larissa wished she could have done the same. She felt like she was intruding, only adding more weight to what had happened to you the previous night.

You were grateful for the water that was falling down your face for it hid the silent tears that you had been shedding for a couple of minutes.

Your body suddenly twitched as you tried to hold back a sob, making Larissa look up at your face. She stood up from the kneeling position she had taken to wash your legs and gently cupped your cheek.

“Sweetling, are you alright?” She asked.

You only gave a nod as an answer, your throat too tight to say anything.

“Look at me,” she said.

You took a deep breath and opened your eyes only to meet Larissa’s worried ones.

She stepped back as soon as she noticed that you were crying, the warmth of her hand leaving your cheek. Larissa immediately thought that she had hurt you somehow and you watched as her mouth fell open as she searched for a way to apologise.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“What?” She frowned.

“I said-“ You took a deep shaky breath, feeling more tears threatening to spill. “I am so, so sorry Larissa.” You managed to say before bursting into tears and falling to your knees.

Larissa stayed still for a moment, watching your body jolt as you sobbed loudly.

“Oh, sweetling…” She knelt and gently placed her hand on your shoulder.

“N-no!” You hiccuped looking at Larissa. You hid your face in your hands and tried your best to calm your breathing down, Larissa’s thumb rubbing soothing circles on your arm.

“Why are you here?” You eventually managed to say after a few minutes. You didn’t give her any time to answer before you went on. “After what I did to you, why the fuck are you here? Being nice to me and taking care of me when you should be gloating about me getting what I deserve.”

“You did not deserve that!” Larissa said severely, cupping your cheek so you’d look at her. She looked into your eyes for a moment before looking down at her lap. “You don’t wish any ill will on those you love, no matter how badly they hurt you.” She said barely audibly.

Love.

There. She had said it.

Love.

The lump in your throat only grew bigger as you watched her blue eyes get glassy.

“I’m so sorry,” you said again. “If I had known-“You shook your head and burst into tears again, feeling both helpless and hopeless.

“I know.” Larissa nodded and took a deep breath. You don’t wish any ill will on those you love. She carefully wrapped her arms around your body and pulled you close, letting your wet skin and hair soak through the fabric of her dress.

You don’t know how long you stayed there, the both of you kneeling on the bathroom floor until you started shivering and Larissa decided to wrap you in a towel. She picked a pair of pyjamas from your wardrobe and helped you put them on before taking you back to the living room.

“I’ll make you a cup of tea, it might help.” Larissa said as you lay back down on the couch.

“That’s what he said.” You answered after a while, remembering some bits of your night.

“He?”

“The man,” you groaned softly. “The one who saved me… He reminded me of you.”

“Did he?” Larissa asked as she walked back to the couch only to find you hiding under a cushion.

She placed the cup on your coffee table and carefully lifted your head to let it rest on her lap while her fingers brushed through your hair.

“Get some more sleep, you need it.”

“Will you be there when I wake up?”

There was a second of silence before Larissa answered.

“You know I will.”

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#gwendoline christie #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #secret benefits #no beta we die like larissa #principal weems #larissa weems x y/n

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 5 months

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Mating

Dragon Hunter!Composer x Dragoon!reader

Rated M | Warning: you both have dragon blood you can guess how that goes

The dragon blood within him sings when around you. At first, it sang the song of adversity. The first time you met him it was when he was hunting beasts. You were hired to save a child, nothing more nor were you aiming to kill the dragon within the area.

But he complicated the situation by making his battle some grand spectacle, the audience being you and the dragon blood-tainted child. The dragon only took what was offered as a payment for protecting the village, the child was theirs to raise as kin. Its blood binds it to the child and the child to it.

“Begone sellsword! You will only get in the way.” The Dragon Hunter is known for his might and bloodthirsty nature.

“You will stand down.” You are not a slave to your blood nor are you its master, you are equal to it. Human and dragon coexisting within body and soul, blood singing with power. “This dragon is innocent. Trickery has been done by mortal words.”

“You lie.” Not that he cared. The dragon is his prey and he will smite it! “Stay aside or fall with the beast!”

“So be it.” You pull the lance from behind your back and go into a battle stance. “Take your child and flee as far as you can.” Ordering the wounded dragon, the child clinging to its adopted parent. “Go no!” As you block the rush attack from the Dragon Hunter.

Each strike is blocked, and each attempt to go after the original prey is met with your lance snatching and throwing him into the ground.

“Fine, then I shall deal with you first!”

As a Dragoon, your dragon blood roars to life, the aura imbued into the lance and your armor. Those who have fallen crafted into the bone armor and redden by their rage. When the Dragon Hunter stabs his blade into your shoulder, you roar as you bring him into the air.

He is no match for a Dragoon in the air, this he learns when has he to attempt to ground you.

The fight is spectacular, the Dragon Hunter has never felt this rush, this thrill before! To meet one who battles like a dragon, to witness the might one can tap into when it draws upon the blood of such magnificent beasts!

“Marry me.”

You were on the ground holding yourself up by your lance and a knee on the ground. The veteran has met your match and now he towers above you equally a mess from the fight.

“Be mine and I will not hunt the dragon and its kin.” It is rather cruel to have you choose to forfeit your life for the lives of others—

“Then I shall wed you.” Standing up to keep your pride. You do not hesitate to save anyone at any cost.

Frederick has never heard of a Dragoon much less seen one, nor has anyone captured his attention the way you have. Your armor is different, with spikes and scales like a dragon. When he touched it he felt the wrath of its spirit, the mighty fury of a dragon in rage. The lance you call Gae Bolg is crafted to represent a dragon in flight and strike like the dive of one. Had the Dragon Hunter been a wizard or human, you surely would have killed him.

“This is unnecessary.”

“It is quite necessary!” He finally can see you and you can see him without the armor. “Though I intend to marry you, we should probably get to know each other.”

“Was the trip here not enough time to know my body well enough for you, Frederick the Dragon Hunter.” You say with no emotion.

The man nearly chokes on his wine. The dining table is decorated with all types of food, drinks, and treats. His wealth befits a dragon, greedily hoarding wealth but you must admit his kingdom seems prosperous despite his greed.

“Frederick, my dear. We do not need titles when alone.”

“We do. It keeps us from mating once again.” You are very bluntly stating the events as it is true. After the battle, a new fight started. Dragon mating can be… Rather frightening to see for humans, it is about domination, proof of worthiness, and in the end compatibility. As human dragon hybrids, this follows.

Several days of fighting before the actual mating happened. The wedding will only be symbolic for humans, and it seems the Dragon Hunter wants to fully entertain courting you in a human fashion.

You, being raised more as a dragon than a human, do not see the point given you marked him as your mate.

“Humor me. I think you will enjoy the human mating ritual.” Drinking his goblet of wine while you take a seat beside him, your hands on the table. He hums pleased but then stops drinking when you do not grab the utensils on the table. “Is something wrong?”

“I do not know how to use these.” Because you only eat food with your hands given you are wandering time.

There is a silence before he starts snickering.

“Careful Frederick, I will not be mocked.” You grab the fork awkwardly before he reaches over and gently corrects your hand and finger placement. “... Thank you.” Quietly saying those words. He does not mock you when you try using the fork by aggressively stabbing your plate. It is strange and you prefer using your hands, easier to pick up things.

After dinner, Frederick takes you to the armory. Here is displayed all of the various armors throughout the ages. His victories and paintings depicting them.

“Seems you truly are a worthy mate,” Examining one of his oldest armor, “A safe home for our children, you have means of protecting them, and a legacy for them to uphold.”

“Children, dragons move fast.”

“Dragons have no true concept of time. For humans, it will appear slow but for us, it will be a blink of an eye. We are eternal. Nothing has to be immediate.” True. Your father took many human centuries before deciding to mate and have a child. When time and death have no meeting, waiting an eternity is nothing.

“Would it be a topic to come again?”

“If you so wish.”

Frederick grew up with human parents, the church called upon him to consume dragon blood, and the people who needed a savior. You grew up with your father who consumed your mother so their souls are joined as one, you became a dragoon as traditions of old call upon all hybrid children of dragons, and you wander to see the world.

Two very different people bound by the instincts of the dragons.

There are a lot of things you learned from each other. A give and take, the wedding was strange and very elaborate. It pleases your mate so you go along with it. Your father had given the Dragon Hunter his blessings and attended the wedding. The great Siegfried, the first and last Dragon Slayer of his kind. You never knew the human remembered as a hero once more, last your father recalls the human deemed him a monster. He was a human who became a dragon to save his home.

Interesting how times have changed.

The celebration after was much louder and Father took a human form for the occasion.

Dancing, eating, drinking, the weird sentimental speeches. More drinking and dancing. The celebration lasted until the evening when it was announced the newlyweds were leaving. The unspoken time for mating.

“Now they all know we are having sex.” Humans are strange.

“It is not exactly a secret when we slip away to our chambers what is going to happen.”

“Still, humans love to claim they are so reserved yet are easily enthralled by desires. Next, they are going to ask to witness our mating to ensure we have consummated our marriage.” You are naked now and Frederick barely has his ceremonial armor off. “Get on the bed.”

“I am still— Oh.” Pinned down on the bed with you on top of him straddling them without shame as you are naked for only him to see. The scales of your dragon heritage shine in the light of the candles in the room. His eyes dare not wander as your gaze locks his with yours.

“You can still perform with the armor on. In fact, you may need the extra protection for our mating.”

That certainly makes his dragon stir, “I can handle you.”

“Show me, dragon hunter.” Grinning at him.

#idv #reader insert #fanfiction #identity v x reader #idv x reader #identity v #identity v x you #identity v composer #composer x reader #composer x you #frederick kreiburg x you #frederick kreiburg x reader #frederick kreiburg

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harmonictechnicality · 1 year

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Memory Log: Day 52

part 1 here | part 2 here | part 3 here | part 5 here | part 6 here (ao3 link here)

After seeing his ink-smeared biography all over Eddie Munson’s arm, Steve becomes extremely motivated. Obsessed, even.

He assembles a makeshift army. Eddie’s Memory Soldiers, he calls it. Okay - he doesn’t call it that out loud, only to himself (because even Steve is self-aware enough to know how deranged this all sounds).

Steve compiles a ragtag group of Eddie’s friends to nudge his brain along faster. Band mates, theater dweebs, potheads that can carry a tune. All of them bring mixtapes on their visits. After two weekends, there’s already a fuckload of thrashy melodies for Eddie to choose from.

He lets them take the reins on this music-healing plan because there’s no fucking way Steve will be helpful in that department. It means less visits that include his presence, which sort of sucks, but it’s worth it. Worth it to get Eddie back to where he used to be.

Before Steve heads out for one of his morning visits, Robin interrogates him. Asks him the question he’s been ignoring for weeks.

“Steve… not to sound harsh, but why do you care so much?”

Yeah. Why does he care so much?

She quickly follows it up with, “I just didn’t know you two were friends now. So I’m just curious, I guess.”

They’re not friends. They’re lukewarm tolerators - tethered together by monster hunting and Dustin Henderson.

They’ve flirted, sure. But who doesn’t? Steve would flirt with half of the leggy cartoon characters that appear on Saturday Mornings if he could. So that’s a weak argument to assume they’re more than just friends. Tolerators. Whatever.

So he lies. To Robin. To himself. Lies so much that it sits in his stomach like motion sickness.

He answers the exact same way he’s been answering since day one:

“I’m just doing this for the kids, Robs.”

He’s pretty sure neither of them are buying that statement. He tries again. Stamps the words onto his confused brain. Considers writing them on his arm just like Eddie might do.

“I’m doing it for them.”

Eddie is always on his Walkman (Steve’s Walkman) now that he has skyscraper of cassettes on his desk. Pretty much every time Steve returns, Eddie is head banging. Won’t stop until the nurses scold him.

Or Steve. He’ll stop if Steve scolds him too.

“You can’t keep jostling up your brain, Munson.” Steve whips the headphones off of Eddie’s ears. “Gonna undo all of our hard work.”

“Our hard work?” Eddie attempts to grab the headphones back. Gives up as soon as their hands make contact. “And who might be included in this our that you speak of?”

“You know…” Me. “The doctors and nurses and your friends.”

“Right.”

This is how things have been going lately. Eddie teases him mercilessly and Steve bats it all away. Doesn’t encourage it for a second.

Which blows so hard because he wants to flirt back. Steve wants to know what Eddie feels like beyond tubes and bandages and hospital gowns. He wants way too much after watching Eddie fall asleep smiling that night. After finding out that Eddie scams his own mind into remembering Steve in technicolor details every day.

But it feels wrong. Deep down, there’s this part of Steve that worries that Eddie only likes the scribbled notes, the good qualities of himself. The non-prickster qualities.

He doesn’t scribble the bad qualities on his arm. Eddie lets himself forget about those every night.

So it seems wrong. Unfair to let Eddie only remember the good parts of him and take advantage of his weak mind.

Life was a fucking breeze before Steve cared about not taking advantage of people. Shit, he used the world’s biggest advantage-taker before all of this evil wizard nonsense.

“Quiz me, Harrington.” Eddie insists.

So Steve does. Steve goes down the list of questions. Things that Eddie’s memory typically hesitates to recognize.

Music helps Eddie remember his childhood memories the best.

That’s the biggest discovery they’ve made over the last fourteen days. Tapes that include songs from the early to mid 70’s have the biggest mental impact on his memory skills. Every day, he recalls more moments from his past.

Winter birthday parties. Recess and tire swings. Nineteen chickenpox. A pet hamster named Sterling.

“Can’t believe Wayne trusted you with a living creature.” Steve sneers.

“Never said he did.”

He always gets fuzzy with stuff from the late 70s though. And the early 80s is just a jumbled-up shit show. That’s when Eddie really starts failing his quiz.

“What year did you get the tattoo on your chest?”

“You mean this one?” Eddie pulls down the wrinkly hospital gown, exposing way too much of his collarbone. “Or this one?” He pulls the fabric down even further.

They must’ve finally turned the heat on in this place. Or maybe Steve’s sweater is just extra itchy, scratching his skin all splotchy red. He rubs furiously at the collar, spreads the flush all over by accident.

His eyes dart up to the fluorescent lights. Away from Eddie’s chest. “Um… the… creepy guy.”

“You’ll sprain your neck looking up like that.”

“Good thing I’m in a hospital then.”

“Okay - seriously, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Sure.” Eddie snorts. His heart monitor beeps faster. Steve hates that laughing must be a bit painful for him. “And he’s not some creepy guy. He’s a creepy demon. Please respect the body art and get your facts right.”

“Fine.”

Not flirting back makes Steve feel like he could break out into hives. He has a fucking stockpile of pickup lines. He hoards provocative catchphrases like a horny pack rat. Talking is becoming increasingly difficult when he can’t banter back the way he wants to.

“Don’t remember what year I got it.” Eddie admits. “Sorry.”

Steve pulls his focus away from the ceiling and scribbles that down:

Eddie still can’t remember when he got his tattoos.

“Gee mister,” Eddie imitates a very masculine Shirley Temple voice. “Am I failing the pop quiz already?”

Eddie remembers who Shirley Temple is (weird, but okay).

Eddie does a really shitty impression of Shirley Temple.

Steve just keeps writing. Not even writing words anymore, just moving the pen to stay focused. Stay distracted from flirting.

The energy starts to feel swampy and stiff as he continues to give short responses with lifeless enthusiasm. Steve can tell that Eddie is picking up on the weirdness too.

He’s so fidgety. Drumming his fingers, twisting the one ring he’s allowed to wear on one of his less busted fingers. Bobbing his knees and kicking off his blankets.

Eventually, Eddie puts his (Steve’s) headphones back on and closes his eyes. A nonverbal surrender. A borrowed Walkman instead of a white flag. Why does it feel so shitty to see that he is just as defeated as Steve?

Once Eddie is asleep, Steve peaks over at his arms.

The notes are still there. Fading, but there.

It shouldn’t jab him in the heart the way that it does every time he checks, but christ. It’s so fucked up.

Slowly but surely, Eddie is gaining pieces of his past, but never his present. Why the fuck is that? Steve is so selfishly pissed about that because he’s a main role in Eddie’s present life.

He’s the one that’s here most days. He’s the one that listens to Eddie’s rants and incessant complaints. He’s the one that calls the nurses when Eddie is too prideful to admit when he’s in pain.

Steve should be remembered without smudgey reminders and foggy recollections.

Steve should be un-fucking-forgettable.

After an unhealthy amount of moping, he comes up with an idea. Well, Dustin comes up with an idea, actually. Steve bribed him with nougat and R-rated movie rentals to construct a gameplan.

“And you need Eddie to remember your favorite sweater…why?” Dustin’s mouth is full of chewy candy as he asks.

Steve chucks a raisinette at his dumb hat. “I thought we agreed this was a no questions asked request.”

“You suggested that.” Dustin points at Steve. “I never agreed to it though.”

This is the part Steve despises. If he admits it to others, he has to admit it to himself. And while he’s come a long way since that first day with Eddie, he’s not there yet. His pride can only take so much vulnerability before it fractures completely. “Just… I’m testing a theory I have on his newest memories.”

“Right. And what theory would that be?”

That he thinks about me in kissable ways. “That he remembers more than he gives himself credit for.”

Dustin chugs back his soda and scrunches the can in his grasp. “Okay. Well, the mixtape theory is working decently well with older memories, right?

“Yeah. Definitely.”

“So maybe it can work with newer memories too.”

Steve is lost already. “Meaning?”

“Find songs that relate to you.” Dustin shrugs like duh. He must sense Steve’s hesitation, so he sputters back into his brainy explanation. “Think about it: you’re there all the time -”

“Not all the time, but -”

“Shut the hell up. You’re there all the time, so he must remember the essence of Steve Harrington.”

Steve fake gags. “Don’t say essence, that’s fucking gross.”

“Will you stop interrupting? Jesus christ.” Dustin yells, scrunching the soda can even more with his irritation. “Just make a mixtape with stuff that relates to you. Get his current memories to stick with lyrics and shit.”

Steve twists his mouth to one side. Then the other. “That’s…”

“Genius?”

“I was gonna say worth a shot, but sure.” Steve agrees. “We’ll go with your conceited analysis.”

Dustin finally picks up the raisinette from earlier. Throws it back at Steve. “You should be nicer to me. I possibly just solved your dilemma.”

“I should be nicer to you?” Steve tosses the raisinette into his mouth, despite its questionable duration on the floor. “Dude, you’re never nice to me.”

“Yeah, but it’s affectionate hostility.”

“And that makes it better?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Fine.” Steve rolls eyes, offers a hand to Dustin. “Thank you for the hostile affection.”

Dustin accepts the handshake. He’s overly smug about it too. “You’re very welcome.”

Memory Log: Day 53

Right away, Steve determines it’s a Kathy Day. Eddie is a verbal nightmare already, whining about the dead batteries in his tv remote.

“I’ll get Sam to grab some batteries when her shift starts.” Steve reassures the bitchy entity possessing Eddie Munson’s body at the moment.

“Why don’t you just get the damn batteries?” Eddie bites back. “You have legs, don’t you?”

“You have eyes, don’t you? Of course, I have fucking legs.” Steve can play it this game. Doesn’t want to but he can be just as obnoxious if Eddie keeps going with his attitude. “Please don’t pull this Kathy shit today.”

That simultaneously shuts them both up for a while. Steve begins flipping through one of the outdated magazines on Eddie’s desk, avoiding the escalated atmosphere. At this rate, there’s no fucking way Steve is going to bring up his mixtape. Kathy/Eddie will probably smash it. Roll over it with the wheels on his imprisoning hospital bed.

Eddie clears his throat, speaking softer than he did at Steve’s arrival. “You know… you were sort of a Kathy yourself yesterday.”

Eddie remembers Steve’s weird mood from the day before (needs to check Eddie’s arm notes to make sure he didn’t write that down).

“Yeah well… I’m allowed to be the pissy one sometimes.” Steve doesn’t look up. He just keeps pretending to read the fossilized magazine in his hand.

“Whatever you say, Harrington.” There’s another pause. Just as awkward as the last one. Their dynamics today are clashing harder than their music styles. Eddie breaks through the awkwardness once again. “So… what’s on the brain agenda today?”

Eddie remembers their pop quizzes.

Right. The quiz. The quiz that Steve has no intention of administering today because he’s supposed to give Eddie this stupid mixtape.

And look, Steve is pretty good at avoiding shit - homework and phone calls and extended family members. He’s good at dodging shit too, like the relentless one-night stands that can never seem to take a goddamn hint.

But this situation is different because Steve would clearly like to avoid the potential weirdness of giving Eddie Munson a gift. However, he’s innately aware that this particular gift could be helpful. Maybe more to himself than to Eddie, but who knows? If Eddie gets his memory tank back on track and Steve gets someone that reciprocates his affections?

The payoff might be worth the weirdness.

“I actually wanted to contribute to your…” Steve gestures apathetically at the stack of tapes.

Eddie looks over at them and then back to Steve. “Oh you mean, Munsonopolis?”

“Boooo.” Steve heckles him immediately for that.

“You think of something better then.”

Steve thinks about this way too hard. “The Ed-pire State Building.”

“Boooo.” Eddie imitates Steve’s heckling.

“Better than yours.”

“Says who?”

“Says anyone with a sense of humor.”

“Brave of you to call that a sense of humor.”

“What can I say?” Steve clicks his mouth twice and does the most douchey finger-gun bit, blowing out the nonexistent smoke from each index finger. “I’m something else.”

Eddie bites down over his lip, hard enough that it goes white for a second. Doesn’t take his eyes off of Steve while he bares down.

“You sure are, Steve.”

Oh shit - did they just mindlessly segue onto Flirtation Boulevard without even trying? Is it really that natural with Eddie? Damnit, Steve needs to get his mind on the task at hand.

“Here.” He walks over, lays the tape on Eddie’s lap.

“Is this another one from Gareth?” Eddie flips the tape over, studies the back. “Cause I already assured him that I remember the concert we went to back in ‘84.”

Eddie remembers one of his closest friends.

“No, this one is actually…” Just fucking own up, Steve. “Well, I made it.”

Eddie’s eyes do that sequin thing again. Almost turn into disco balls. “You made me a mixtape?”

Ugh. “Don’t get too flattered, Munson.”

“Too late.”

Steve was afraid that might be the case. So he does his damndest to channel Dustin Henderson. Provide a scientific explanation to his crush-driven theory. “It’s just an extension of our little music experiment. Some stuff that will help you remember me.”

“And why exactly do you want me to remember you?” Eddie does the same lip biting thing from before. He bites harder, and the color stays white even longer this time.

Steve involuntarily glances down at Eddie’s arm, giving himself away.

“Oh.” Eddie stops biting his lip, swiftly lifts the blankets over his arms. Hiding what Steve already knows is there. “Look… that’s just -”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, really.”

Eddie looks down, nodding in agreement. “Right. But it’s not-”

“Eddie.” Steve places a firm hand on Eddie’s shoulder because he can’t. He can’t listen to whatever Eddie is about to confirm or deny. “It’s okay. I mean it.”

He’s not ready for it, for whatever barricade that’s between them to come crashing down. Steve didn’t bring the proper tools to shield himself from raw emotions or desperate declarations of true feelings. And from the way Eddie goes breathless and tense under Steve’s shoulder-grip, he doesn’t think Eddie has the proper tools for that either.

“So you uh…” Eddie peers down at Steve’s hand. Catches a glimpse then abruptly looks away again. “Do you want me to listen now or…”

God no. Steve releases his grip at that thought. “Wait till I leave.”

“Got it.”

The rest of the visit goes both fairly smoothly. There are only a few lingering particles of awkward tension left behind. It doesn’t bother Steve, not necessarily. The whole day has been kind of all over the place, just like Eddie’s Literary Behavioral Scale. So this uneasy atmosphere is to be expected.

They talk about movies while Steve packs up his things to leave. Eddie asks about all the new movies that have come out since he’s been in the hospital. Steve tells him to make a list of the ones he’s interested in seeing. Tells him that they’ll have a marathon at his place once they’re released to vhs. Eddie says he knows a guy that sells bootlegs before the vhs release date, but Steve shoots that idea down so fucking fast.

It’s not their usual banter, but that’s okay. At least they're talking. Getting along. Tolerating one another at a lukewarm temperature again.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” Steve is met with the most anxiety-ridden face. Eddie’s whole forehead is covered in wrinkles, like that one fancy dog breed that his next-door neighbor used to have. There’s no shimmer in Eddie’s eyes, no disco balls. It’s all just dull. Fearful.

“Sorry if the arm thing made you...” Eddie trips over his words. He pinches the skin between his eyes, makes his even more forehead wrinkles. “I don’t know what’s the word I’m looking for.. Uncomfortable, I guess.”

“Don’t worry. It didn’t.” It made Steve a lot of other things: gutted, determined, confused, sulky, smitten. But no. Worried did not make Steve’s grocery list of Feelings.

“Don’t forget to tell Sam about the batteries on your way out.”

Eddie remembers bitching about the batteries.

Yeah, Steve’s memory isn’t the faulty one here. Even so, Steve reassures him:

“I won’t forget, Eds.”

Day 56:

Wayne had a couple days off from work and took over Steve’s Wednesday and Thursday shifts in the hospital. It’s probably for the best - especially since Steve decided to do the most high school shit ever, and gift Eddie a fucking bouquet in the form of radio hits and plastic.

He’s breaking out from the stress, just marinating on what Eddie’s thoughts might be of the mixtape. It can’t be good. None of the songs are his typical riffs of eternal damnation or whatever. But it certainly sounds like Steve Harrington in a Speaker. So it better help him picture Steve dressed in the tackiest, most burnable sweaters imaginable, goddamnit.

But like, why is he breaking out from thinking about Eddie Munson? Absurd. All of it. The feelings and the acne. His weird little crush is making him regress into adolescent woes and it’s pissing him off.

After popping the zit and crossing his fingers that it’s not outrageously noticeable, Steve sucks in a deep breath, and heads into Eddie’s hospital room.

“There’s my favorite Material Girl.” Eddie lowers the headphones, smiles bonus-level wide.

Steve’s gulps. His face feels like a fucking toaster. “I take it you listened to the tape?”

“I didn’t just listen to the tape.” Eddie picks up the Walkman and smacks it against the side of his head. “I practically absorbed that bubblegum bullshit. Think some of it is still stuck in my teeth.”

Steve plays along, hoping that his face will return to its usual complexion. “You should see a dentist about that.”

“With what insurance?”

“That’s fair.” Steve slides his hands into his jean pockets. He’s so rigid. “So?”

“So?”

“Final conclusion?”

“Oh, I hated it.” Eddie says bluntly. “In a very stick-that-syringe-in-my-neck kind of way.”

“Shocker.” Steve actually expected a meaner response than that.

“Why did you put so many songs on there that use Girl in the title?”

“Hey - it’s not my fault that all of the rich poster child songs are about women.” Steve gets defensive about that one. Honestly, it’s true. There needs to be more music about wealthy guys with genetically flawless hair. Somebody needs to get on that shit so Steve can have more songs that apply to him.

“Whatever you say, man.”

“So did it…” Steve is still standing. Hovering a bit. “Did it help?”

Eddie sticks out both of his arms, flipping to reveal his forearms to Steve.

They’re blank, besides the usual tattoos and contusions. They’re as blank as Eddie’s arms can be at the moment. No more Steve Cheat Sheet to be found.

Steve exhales all of his relief. “And you remember me?”

“Remembering you was never the problem, Steve.”

“It wasn’t?”

Eddie shakes his head. “But if I ever allowed myself to forget, I…” He taps rapidly over the Walkman. Steve’s Walkman. “I just didn’t wanna risk starting over.”

“Oh.”

“With you.”

The metaphorical arrow, the one Steve has alway seen on department store Valentines Day cards, goes straight through his chest. Eddie aims the words with you directly for Steve’s heart. Punctures that wall he built up after Nancy Wheeler.

The monitor connected to Eddie is beeping faster again. It’s not like that day Eddie was writhing in pain. No, it’s a different tempo.

It sounds like his nerves are conducting the pattern. He’s nervous. Steve is making him nervous.

Or Steve’s lack of response is making him nervous.

But how does Steve respond? Is this Eddie giving him permission to flirt back again? To keep driving down the detour of attraction, take the scenic route?

Eddie’s heart monitor is screaming, ‘say something, Steve.’

But Steve’s archive of failed relationships is screaming, back, ‘don’t fuck this up, dickhead.’

Steve tries to meet the two in the middle. Say something inviting yet keep it simple.

“So… do you wanna make fun of the shitty soap operas together?”

Steve puts a little emphasis on the together part, hoping it’ll tame the monitor. Make the tones evenly paced. He lets his hand tap once against Eddie’s arm. Right over his newly blank wrist. So clean. No more scribbles.

“I don’t know, I’ll have to check my schedule.” Eddie teases with his words, sure. But his hand lifts up. Tapping Steve back. Twice. “I’m a very busy man, you see.”

Steve shoves him away, laughing as he does it. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re not wrong.”

His monitor is ballad again.

One of Eddie’s (many) doctors walks into the room during their third hour of mocking the Home Shopping Network. Eddie has developed an elaborate backstory that they’re all cyborgs who are taking civilian money to grow their army of killer robots. Steve is surprisingly on board with this theory after the second hour. Some red headed lady twitches her eyes way too much to be human.

The doctor runs a few tests, looks over Eddie’s chart, the typical procedure. However, at the end of the visit, he decides to put Eddie on a new medication for his headaches.

Headaches…

Steve flips back to that first day he started visiting Eddie. Finds the note he passive-aggressively took back then:

Eddie has a headache (that’s not a memory thing - he’s just told Steve a thousand times now).

He fans through the other pages as well. At least two-thirds of them mention Eddie complaining about headaches. How did Steve miss this? How could he be so stupid? He was too busy fantasizing about Eddie’s chest tattoos and making shitty mixtapes, that he glossed over something so significant.

Dustin wouldn’t have missed this. Robin wouldn’t have missed this. Nancy definitely wouldn’t have missed this - hell, she would’ve already cracked the Case of the Missing Memories by now.

Steve is the wrong man for this job. Not enough brainpower to fix a broken brain.

“Uh oh.” Eddie says. “Where you’d go, Harrington?”

Steve glances up to see Eddie pointing his finger at Steve’s head. “Just.. thinking.”

“Share with the class, please.”

Steve struggles to make his voice sound causal about this. “I should’ve known about the headaches. Paid better attention.”

“Are you joking?” Eddie asks. “Because if you are, we need to work on your delivery.”

“Not joking, no.”

Eddie’s tone is mildly annoyed, still gentle though. “Stevie… that guy gets paid a shitload of money to figure out my problems. Truly - the reason there’s no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is because it’s going straight into that guy’s pocket.”

Steve snorts. It’s even funnier to visualize because the doctor is kind of short.

“What I’m saying is, it’s his job to have a big brain.” Eddie’s eye contact is sharp. Broken bottle to his neck sharp. “And your job is to be my eye candy. Sit there and look cute while I try to not hack up my dinner.”

Steve’s hearing went crackly at all of the compliments. “Eye candy, huh?”

“Pretty much.”

Steve no longer has an excuse not to flirt back. Eddie has his mixtape; his arms are bare. He’s obviously encouraging it, even with the knowledge that Steve is a spoiled brat. He likes Steve, not just the good stuff. Eddie is still willing to pursue this even with Steve’s bad qualities.

So fuck it. Steve is gonna delve into his stockpile of pickup lines. He’s gonna rummage around his hoard of provocative catchprashes. Be the horny pack rat that he was born to be.

“Is the sitting part of my job description mandatory?” Steve leans forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“Oh, I’m very lenient on that detail.” Eddie’s voice drops lower. “The cute part… not so much.”

“So you’re only keeping me around for what? My great hair? My symmetrical bone structure? My biceps, maybe?”

“Definitely not your humility, that’s for damn sure.”

They share a smile as Steve gets up, inches closer to Eddie’s bed. He reaches out and pinches the sleeve of Eddie’s hospital gown between his fingers. He cautiously rubs it over a few times, waiting to see Eddie’s reaction to this droplet of affection.

Eddie catches Steve’s wrist with his other hand. Mirrors the rubbing motion Steve set in place with the material.

“Hey.”

Steve nudges Eddie lightly. “Is this okay?”

And before he can even get a response back, Eddie’s face starts turning grayish-green.

This happens. Eddie throws up biweekly, so it’s not a big deal at all. It’s just that Steve is usually not laying on the moves when Eddie is about to blow chunks. Honestly, it knocks Steve’s astronomical ego down a few notches.

He probably deserves it.

Eddie is really sick. He pukes three more times, and he starts running a fever after the second time. He’s all clammy and curled into a pillow, clutching it with shaky fingers.

It’s all side effects from the new medication apparently. Yeah, Eddie’s head is no longer splitting open, but his body is rejecting all of the cardboard hospital food.

Steve keeps an eye on him, not that he can do much about it. He gets a styrofoam cup of ice chips so Eddie can chew on it whenever his temperature spikes. He wipes the sweat off Eddie’s temples because one - it’s a nice gesture, and two - it gives him an excuse to be nearby.

The shivering is driving Steve crazy though. He’s so on edge just watching Eddie like this. Eddie keeps making jokes like ‘at least I’ll remember your stupid worried face in the morning’ or ‘damn, my past better be worth all of this.’ And Steve will chuckle halfheartedly each time.

The heart monitor is all jumpy now. Even, uneven, even, uneven. If Steve focuses on it for too long, it starts to sound like he’s driving by a highway collision. A pileup of beeps and tones.

He gets another cup of cafeteria coffee. Hopes the bitterness and chalky creamer will be enough to muffle his hearing. Steer his mind to an empty exit lane.

“What? No coffee for me?” Eddie is under an extra blanket now.

Steve scoots his chair even closer to Eddie’s bedside. “What’s the point? You’d just puke it all up.” He’s pretty lousy at supportive words, isn’t he?

“Aren’t visiting hours almost over?”

“You trying to get rid of me, Munson?”

“Never. Just figured you needed to catch the bus or whatever.”

Eddie remembers Steve taking the bus.

“Robin finally gave me my car back.” Steve conveniently leaves out how he demanded for it to be returned to him. “So, I’ll stay until they kick me out… if that’s cool with you.”

He places his non-coffee holding hand over top of Eddie’s open palm. It’s sort of instinctual. Doesn’t give his mind a moment to wonder if this is crossing a line.

Holding hands in a hospital doesn’t mean romance. It never has. People do it all time, no one bats an eye at them either. It’s just a gesture of helpless support. It’s what people do to signify, ‘I can’t heal you with medicine, but I can warm your under-circulated skin just a little.’

But when Eddie’s fingers curl around his own, Steve’s stomach swells like its romance. It swells with hot air, helium maybe. It swells and stays swollen. Stays thermal and full.

“Looks like I’m gonna have to pay my eye candy overtime.” Eddie’s face rushes all pinkish-red. Almost as if he’s trying to combat his blush with humor, but it’s not working. He’s all the colors now. And with or without them, he’s attractive.

“You don’t pay me at all.”

“You got me there.” Eddie shakes a frizzy curl in front of his cheek. A poor effort to hide his flushed face. “I’m a terrible employer.”

Steve traces the grooves of Eddie’s palm lines. Pretends that they form a railroad track. “The worst.”

Once his fever finally breaks, Eddie falls asleep. His body unfolds, his fingers uncurl. It’s a heavy sleep, one that makes him all languid and soft. Any traces of bones are questionable now.

And even though Steve is about to pass out from exhaustion, he doesn’t move his hand from Eddie’s. He’d rather give up his whole arm than move it.

Sam peaks in just before Steve nods off. She lets in the bright hallway light, not too much though. Not enough to wake Eddie. Honestly, not a lot of things wake Eddie up these days.

“Sorry.” Steve yawns. “I overstayed my welcome.”

She shrugs, checks the fluids in one of Eddie’s IV bags. “You know, you can stay the night, if you’d like.”

“Really?”

“It’s pretty late… you shouldn’t be driving on the highway at this time of night.”

“Won’t I…” Steve reworks the phrase. Tries to be less selfish about it. “Won’t you get in trouble for letting me stay?”

“Oh no.” She winks. “Because I never saw you here.”

Steve smirks. “Got it.”

“But if I did see you here,” She gestures her head to the door on her right. “I would tell you there’s extra pillows in the linen closet over there.”

Sam deserves a fucking raise. Steve would become a goddamn patron of this hospital just to give her more money. Let the godsend of a woman retire early for christ’s sake.

“Thanks, Sam.” Steve whispers.

“Thank you for keeping him company.” She whispers back. “He’s lucky to have someone like you.”

Steve doesn’t know if that’s true, if Eddie is lucky to have him, but he nods anyway. Gives a gentle wave as Sam heads back out of the room.

He sets the pillow next to Eddie’s leg, keeping their hands connected as he dozes off. Steve falls asleep the same way he used to fall asleep in class. All bent over in his chair, one cheek flattened out on the desk. It’s very reminiscent of that.

Only better because he’s with the guy that makes his chest swell, even when he’s being sarcastic or melodramatic. Even when he’s cobwebbed himself into a maze of cords. Even when he’s bitching about batteries and Steve’s vomit-inducing fashion sense.

Steve thinks maybe he likes the undesirable traits of Eddie Munson just as much as the desirable ones.

And once he’s knocked out entirely, the rhythm of his heart matches the beeping monitor hooked up to Eddie’s chest.

Day 57:

It’s been a long time since Steve has had a decent dream. And this dream he’s in right now? It’s fucking luxurious.

He’s at the hair salon, because of course he is - it’s his home away from home.

His head is reclining back in that giant sink thing. The one that’s like a soup bowl for hair or whatever. The stylist is shampooing his scalp, scrubbing all of those foamy products into his roots. This is Steve’s favorite part of getting his hair done, he always feels blissed out of his mind afterward.

They keep washing it for the whole dream, digging their nails into his head, dunking water over his hair every so often. It’s downright perfection. A dream he could stay stuck in forever.

The scenery of the dream flickers out, but the sensations linger as he gains consciousness. His squints both of his eyes open, immediately greeted by too much brightness, too much sunlight. Steve shuts them again, soaking up the remnants of his dream. The hair scratching that’s ongoing even though he’s awake.

Awake.

Steve is awake and can still feel all of that salon paradise. His brain finally wakes up enough to realize it isn’t a dream. It’s Eddie’s hands in his hair, combing it thoroughly.

Fuck, it feels so good too. Steve wonders if Eddie is aware of what he’s doing or if he’s also in that suspended place between awake and asleep.

It doesn’t matter, not really. It all feels way too incredible to care about the logistics. Steve nuzzles deeper into the pillow to hide the happy little hums that keep escaping through his mouth.

Eddie doesn’t stop. He keeps moving his hand around. Twirling strands and releasing them. Ruffling strands and smoothing them. Massaging the pads of his fingers in all the right places. Every bit of it is dreamy. Better than the dream Steve initially believed to be unbeatable.

Being Eddie’s own personal petting zoo is way better. Miles, light years better. Is there any form of measurement longer than lightyears? Because it’s bigger and better than that too.

Eddie tugs a little harder, just once, but once is all it takes to make Steve melt. He open-mouth sighs into the pillow, hoping the fabric mutes the neediness of it. There’s drool on the pillow and it’s unclear if it’s from when he was asleep or if it occurred just from that one hair tug.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice still sounds coated in sleep. “Is this weird?”

Steve shakes his head no, still unable to lift his face from the pillow.

“Should I stop?”

Steve shakes his head much faster. Absolutely not. Stopping should be banished from Eddie’s vocabulary. The word ‘stop’ should be homeless as far as Steve is concerned.

Eddie tugs again, more firmly this time. The tug goes straight to Steve’s dick, which yikes. Humiliating. Yeah, it’s morning and this shit happens, but not this kind of boner. Not one brought on by hair salon fantasies and a metalhead with magical fingertips. This can’t be the reality of Steve’s life right now but somehow, it is.

“I think I combed through all of that cake-up hairspray.” Eddie talks as his hand continues to roam around Steve’s scalp. “Feels like cashmere now, so you’re welcome.”

Steve sighs again, pretty sure it’s much more audible this time because Eddie laughs.

“Embarrassing.” Steve mumbles. That’s all he can muster out without becoming a puddle of humiliation.

“The sounds you’re making?”

Steve nods.

“Oh that is not the adjective I would’ve gone with.” Eddie claws his fingers all the way down to Steve’s neck. “Not even close.”

Steve is all hormones now, all slurred speech and thoughtless words. “So good, Eddie.”

“Oh my god.” Eddie whines, sounds breathier than Steve. “You cannot say my name like that when I’m in a tissue-thin gown.”

Steve wants to sneak a peek, see if what Eddie is suggesting holds any truth. He resists, only because he’s trying to sort out his own tent-pitching problems at the moment.

He gradually lifts his head off of the pillow, back cracking as he straightens his spine out after hours of being shaped like fucking tetris piece. It’s the last thing he wants to do because it means Eddie has to take his hand out of Steve’s hair. But as Eddie pulls away, his knuckles brush against Steve’s ear, awakening this newfound urgency to not let this moment fizzle out.

Steve hops up onto the bed, sitting side-saddle next to Eddie. He looks through Eddie’s eyes, the ones that remind him of shimmery dresses and the backseat of his car on prom night. He looks through to find a reason to stop his actions. Stop his need to touch Eddie’s jawline or thumb over his lips. He’s searching for a reason to stop and finding none whatsoever.

“Do you remember me?”

“You’re Steve Harrington.” Eddie kind of stutters as he says it. “Hometown Slut extraordinaire.”

The nerdy bastard is never going to let that one go.

Steve gives a quiet laugh, leaning in to his impulses. He slides his thumb over Eddie’s bottom lip, curving around, mapping invisible outlines. A blueprint for his imagination when they’re apart later. “Am I reading this wrong?”

Eddie’s gaze is glued to Steve’s lips as he shakes his head no.

“Good.”

Steve uses his free hand to lift himself up, get closer. Breathing in the same stale oxygen, sucking up the same early morning courage, existing in the same dizzying climate.

He can feel Eddie exhale softly over his skin when there’s a knock at the door.

Steve has never stood up so fast in his damn life. Gets a head rush that’s so overwhelming that his vision speckles out momentarily.

It’s Sam. Thank god it’s only Sam. But also, screw god for interrupting what almost happened just now. Not cool, sky man.

“Just a heads up,” she starts, shutting the door behind her. “You have another visitor that just arrived.”

Right. It's the weekend.

Steve and Eddie say it in unison. “Dustin.”

Sam hums in reply. “I can stall him for a couple minutes. Give you time to sneak out the stairs that are tucked in the back hallway.”

“You’re the best.” Steve says. “I’ll be quick.”

She leaves, cracking the door on her way out.

Both of them just look at each other for a moment. There’s no time to even discuss the events that just took place. No time to recover the kiss that is already sneaking out the back hallway stairs.

Steve nervously whistles. “So…”

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“Monday.” 48 hours apart seems insane. “Yeah.”

Steve hurriedly makes his way to the door - refusing his horny impulses the opportunity to kick back in and ruin everything. “See you later, Eds.”

Eddie licks over his bottom lip - the one Steve mapped out with his thumbprint. “Later, sailor.”

Um. What?

Steve’s eyes go large. “What did you just call me?”

“Go.” Eddie flashes the wickedest grin. “We’ll talk all about your ocean of flavor on Monday.”

This can’t be happening. “Ocean of -”

“Get out of here already!”

Steve flings himself out of the room, sprinting down the hall. Does Eddie actually recall Steve working at Starcourt? How can that be possible? Steve doesn’t remember seeing Eddie outside of school ever.

Plus, they’ve never even talked about his job at Scoops Ahoy. Family Video? Sure, that’s more recent. But Scoops? Steve tries to forget just about everything from his time at that seaside shithole.

Goddamnit, this is confusing. The hair foreplay. The almost-kiss. The nautical nickname. Confusing is an understatement. Steve needs to go back to high school and learn a better word for what this is. Confusing isn’t cutting it anymore.

If Steve can make it till Monday without spiraling into a bucket of nerves, he deserves a fucking trophy.

And a kiss on the lips.

Mostly the second option (although a trophy would be nice too).

#🎶here comes some contenttttt🎶#steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #sorrrrrrryyyyy these keep getting longer and longer #also - this is as close as I can get to a bed sharing trope in a hospital fic #and I hope this helps y'all feel better after the *last* chapter #and if I missed your tag pls reach out and tell me - I'm trying to keep up but my brain is a cluttered place to be in

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fictional-mind21 · 2 months

Text

🎶ALL MY LOVE🎶

Characters: Reader, Bucky, Dot (Bucky's girlfriend)

Synopsis: No matter the circumstances, you and Bucky Barnes would always be linked

Warnings: Small mentions of alcohol, pining for someone else while in a relationship and I guess [???] miscommunication [????]

Word Count: Too lazy to check

a/n: I feel like this is sort of messy writing structure but 🤷‍♀️ (I couldn't get this song out of my head and then this popped out)

+ This is the first I've posted in A WHILE, if you missed me, MY BAD 😳

‼️‼️Before you start reading this know that:

Italics = song lyrics (if they have parentheses around them that means they're being said by one of the characters)

Blue = Bucky's POV and thoughts

Regular white is Reader's POV and thoughts‼️‼️

It's been 61 days, more precisely 2 months since you and Bucky last spoke. Dot, his girlfriend, had given him an ultimatum.

Your friendship or their relationship.

After a restless night's of sleep he'd gone over to your house to break the news to you.

You told him you understood that she felt threatened by your close relationship and it was best to cut ties so he could pursue his happiness.

There ain't a drop of bad blood, it's all my love

You were his happiness

He was your best friend after all and what kind of best friend would you be if you stood in the way of his happiness?

You were his happiness

He was also the guy who gave you your first kiss due to silly little middle schooler games.

Well, I leaned in for a kiss thirty feet from where your parents slept

And I look so confident, babe, I swear, I was scared to death

I smiled stupid the whole way home

The guy who you'd fallen in love with BUT who'd found love elsewhere, so of course you were letting him go.

Now you were at Tony's annual New Years party watching him from across the room being all lovey-dovey with Dot and feeling like you were at the top of Mount Everest.

Cold and lacking oxygen.

It was wrong.

Here he was rubbing noses with Dot when the past 2 months had been an emotional agony for him, a hole in chest where you used to be.

2 whole months of not being able to get you out of his head.

As soon as he stepped out of your apartment that night, he felt wrong. He wished you'd have told him to stay. Filled his head with delusion and told him to choose you because you couldn't live without him.

Even if it wasn't wrong, it was too late. He'd made his choice and you'd obviously never choose him as anything more than a friend. He was crazy to think about such things.

You burrowed in under my skin, what I'd give to have you out for me

How could he have been so stupid? How had he not realized his feelings for you before? He had to get you out of his head before he messed up what he had with Dot. He'd be dammed if he messed up the relationship that sacrificed his and yours.

He'd been so immersed in his thoughts that he didn't hear Dot calling him.

"Babe I'm gonna head to the bathroom, you gonna be ok?"

"Yeah"

As she walked away, he walked across the room towards the bar. Less for the drinks more so to stretch him legs and get a breath of fresh air. He took a seat nearest to the balcony and one look across the bar had him realizing THIS WAS A BAD IDEA.

He hadn't realized you'd come to the party.

There you were talking to a group of people smiling and laughing, like nothing was wrong in the world. Yet here he was yearning to be in your presence.

As the group walks away he has to force himself to look away or you'll feel him staring.

As the group you were talking to walks away you look back to where Bucky was with Dot only to see it empty.

As you question if they left already you sense something familiar. A feeling of warmth, one which you're first instinct is to blame on the alcohol, but the drink in front of you has been sitting untouched for so long that all the ice has melted and the drink has gone warm.

As you look to your left you find the culprit and butterflies erupt in your stomach.

It's Bucky. He's only a few feet away but it's the most bittersweet distance you've ever been from someone. You thought seeing him across the room was hard but here you are and the need to be near him has NEVER been stronger. Or at least that's what you think until he makes eye contact with you and your heart stops.

You got all my love while I'm still out here

His heart stops and he almost drops the drink he's been swirling around to distract himself from looking at you.

Because you're looking at him and he's looking back at you, mesmerized. His breathing becomes shaky as flashbacks of you and him flood his mind. Soon he sees you walking towards him.

As you're walking towards him you see his breathing start to slow down, and maybe that should be sign a sign to stop what you're doing and walk away but you don't.

"Buck, you ok?"

"Yeah you know me d-oll, hate these parties, just got a little overwhelmed but I'm good now"

Was he though? Because although his shaky breathing subsided he still felt like he could go into cardiac arrest at any moment.

Write me a list of how it is, of how it was, of how it has to be

"So how have things been?"

"Well, doll , now that you mention it things have been good"

"That's good"

Now I know your name, but not who you are

"What about you, anything new and exciting?"

I wanna hear all of it no matter how insignificant you think it is

"Well actually ..........

As he listens to you he can't help but think "God I've missed the sound of your voice". Suddenly he feels a smile on his lips, one that was always only meant for you.

When you realize he's smiling you ask him "what's wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing"

"I'm rambling, aren't I? I'm sorry" you say letting out a nervous laugh

"Don't apologize, I don't mind." I could listen to you talk all day

As time goes on you guys start talking which turns into laughing, a laugh he missed and had trouble forgetting the sound of, a laugh only he could pull out of you.

Suddenly, and what feels like too soon, Dot appears and she looks upset.

"Seriously Bucky? There was a super long line and I've been looking for you everywhere"

"I've been here the whole time Dot"

"With her?"

"She's got a name Dot"

"Bucky you promised, you know how I feel about this" Despite the previous semi rude comment she made, you can hear the hurt in her voice which adds to the guilt creeping up on you. You were not about to let Bucky's happiness turn into something tragic all because you couldn't walk away.

"Hey, Dorothea?"

She looks at you

"Listen, I'm really sorry, this was all my fault. I was the one who-"

"It wasn't her fault, she saw me get a little overwhelmed with the crowd and came over to help and then we got to talking. I'm sorry, Dot I didn't mean to dismiss your feelings"

"We should go, Buck"

All it takes is one certain word out of her mouth to make your whole evening crumble. A word that makes you face the fact that the guy standing in front of you will never be yours, at least not in the way you want him to be.

BUCK.

GOD THIS WAS A BAD IDEA. What were you thinking coming to this party?!!

"No need, I was already on my way out. Don't lie. Don't leave please, I need you Hope you guys have a wonderful time and take care"

If you need me, dear I'm the same as I was

#bucky x y/n #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #fictional-mind21

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urmomification · 2 years

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hc that steve harrington is classically trained on the piano but quit taking lessons his sophomore year but is still very musically talented.

- he picked up guitar in middle school because he was bored

- no one really knows bc he doesn't ever talk abt it, not even robin

- but sometimes if robin ever practices in front of him or while he's around he can tell if she's flat or sharp and tells her (she doesn't mind that's why she does it)

- super good pitch and tune

- whenever someone asks why there's a piano in the house he just shrugs as if he doesn't play it regularly to help with his stress

- good voice too

- when he can't sleep he'll listen to music then try and figure it out on the piano or guitar to help him relax

- introducing eddie

- steve knew he was in a band when they were in highschool, so he knows he can play and sing

- he was always a little envious, but never did anything about it because he didn't really want to be associated w them (like at all)

- post upside down steve and eddie start hanging out more bc they're close in age and the kids need rides from them

- steve will be the first to say that he's definitely NOT crazy abt eddie's taste in music (he liked george michael. cuz i said so)

- but the more they hang out the more steve gets used to it (likes it)

- eventually they're eddie's driving around w steve and this One Song comes on and steve immediately u knows he HAS to learn this on the piano (choose whatever song u want. I didn't think this far ahead)

- asks eddie the name of the song and who it's by

- eddie almost crashes the car w how fast he whips his head around to look at steve bc He basically just Asked To Listen To This Again

- eventually eddie tunes back in and tells steve the name of the song and notices him jot it down on his hand or arm or something before he begins to tap against his thighs to the beat (he's internalizing the beat guys)

- single finger beat keeping switches to him starting to try and map out chords and the melody on his legs (Tries to. It's hard)

- he suddenly looks up and looks around to see where they are and notices they aren't far from his place

- 'eddie take me home'

- 'what? why'

- 'don't ask, just drive'

- so eddie does, very confused and little hurt bc steve is scrunching his face up looking annoyed but he's just trying to focus on the song still

- eddie pulls into the driveway and steve practically runs out of the car, nearly tripping on the driveway w how fast he's moving

- eddie's just sitting in the car like ??? before he decides to follow him to see What The Hell is Wrong

- and he gets in the door and hears a piano from the basement and follows the sound

- he gets down there and steve is frantically sorting chords out and humming to himself to see what works and what doesn't and he doesn't hear eddie come down

- eddie just stands there really

- after a few minutes steve has got it coherent enough to tell what it is and turns and grins a little shyly at eddie

- s 'sorry abt that'

- e 'i didn't know u played'

- s 'i didn't tell u'

- e 'how did u do that'

- s 'took lessons for years as a kid, i can just kinda' gestures vaguely to the piano and himself and

- e 'that's so cool' he walks over and stands behind steve by the piano 'can u do more of it?'

- s 'uh, Yeah i guess i can'

- they work together to figure out the rest of the song (easy part)

- eddie asks him to learn some other songs (he's hesitant to say yes)

- eddie asks him to teach him a little (he's less hesitant)

- they end up spending the afternoon in steve's basement w a few beers and a radio in the background w eddie daring steve to play whatever comes on the top 40

#steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #?#loosely. they're both Here #eddie munson #this wasn't supposed to be like an actual thing #but i've been getting back into piano so #also no clue if this is readable at all sorry guys

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kissingghouls · 3 months

Text

Couple Skate (Mary Goore x f!Reader)

Summary: Another date with Mary has them trying something for the first and leads the two of you into uncharted territory (aka your bedroom.) (3200 words)

TAGS: NSFW 18+ MDNI, FLUFF, SMUT, slight character injury but nothing serious, he/they Mary.

[This goes along with the other More Goore '24 stories or can be read alone. Choose your own adventure, it's what Mary would want. Or read on AO3.]

“Does that feel good?” you ask, eyes wide as you look up from between Mary’s legs. For a moment all they do is blink at you, but then a sly grin creeps across their face followed by a low chuckle. They cock their head to the side, pulling their lip between their teeth as they adjust in their seat.

“You have no idea, do you darlin’?”

“Wha?” you ask, still staring at him. It was a perfectly normal thing to ask, especially since Mary had never done this before. You still weren’t sure exactly how this whole thing even happened, but it was bound to be an experience for both of you.

It wasn’t until you heard harsh whispers and tsking from several feet away that it dawned on you what he meant.

“The skates you perv!” you huff, giving them a quick slap on the thigh. You’d spent the last few minutes with your knees on a grubby carpet trying to help Mary tighten the laces on a pair of rented ice skates. A couple of uppity moms had covered their kids’ eyes at the sight of the two of you, like you were really planning on sucking his dick in public like that. But you couldn’t care less what those moms thought if it meant Mary wasn’t going to get hurt on your watch. You give the laces another tug before asking again if they felt ok.

“I dunno,” they reply, stretching a skinny leg out past you. They twist their ankle around, flexing their foot against the boot. “Am I supposed to be able to feel my feet?”

“Normally yes, but I wouldn’t be surprised if all your blood rushed somewhere else.”

Mary gives you an easy shrug and leans forward. “Do you really want me to apologize for thinking you’re hot?”

“I want to know if the skates feel ok,” you respond flatly.

“They feel like boots with knives on the bottom, so…metal as fuck?”

“You are so lucky you’re cute, Goore.”

“Pretty sure you’re the cute one, sweetheart.”

You smile softly and climb into the seat next to them. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Darlin.” He places a hand under your chin, angling your face toward his. “We can’t just keep going to the bar.”

“Why not?”

Mary looks down, finding a particularly interesting thread on the ripped knee of his jeans. “I don’t…I don’t want you to get bored with me.”

“Goore, you’re like the furthest thing from boring I could imagine.”

“But like…in a good way, right?” they ask cautiously.

“Would I be hanging out with you if it wasn’t in a good way?”

“Hmm,” he hums pretending to think. “I don’t know. You’ve dated some questionable people in the past.”

“Oh and you haven’t?” you challenge, leaning over to pinch their side.

“What can I say?” they ask with a laugh. “I was a fool until now.”

“I’m gonna leave your ass here,” you grumble.

“No, you won’t. You like me too much.”

“You’re ok, I guess. Pretty good at building a fort.”

“You want me to make you another? A two bedroom, two bath dream house— “

“I want you to do what you want to do.”

“Hey,” he says softly. “I am doing what I want to do. You think I would be in a place like this if I didn’t want to be here with you?”

You look up, taking in the scene around you. Obnoxious, loud pop music blasts overhead—a song neither one of you know—while the happy shouts of children and other couples cut through the sound of blades scraping across the ice. It’s a wholesome swirl of rosy cheeks, colorful fabric, and bright lights; a pleasant little afternoon of family fun with you and Mary looking completely out of place like a couple of ghostly apparitions.

“Honestly? I’m not sure how we ended up here in the first place,” you admit. “But no, I don’t think you make a habit of doing anything you don’t want to.”

“Exactly! Now, help me broaden my horizons or whatever other motivational shit people say. Teach me to skate!”

“I’ll try my best, Goore. What are you going to teach me after this?” you ask as you help them to their feet.

“I’m sure I could think of a couple things,” he replies lowly, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes.

Helping Mary to their feet is one thing but getting them to the ice is far more complicated. They’d never skated in their life and they’d clearly never walked in skates before. You try your best to correct the stiff and rigid movements that made them look about as graceful as Frankenstein’s Monster, but there was only so much you could do until they felt comfortable enough.

It isn’t any easier on the ice, but at least there’s a wall to help keep him upright.

Still, you’re impressed by the fact that Mary is willing trying something new at all, just because it was something you thought was fun. Most of the people you dated weren’t as interested in anything you cared about and they certainly going to try it. But Mary’s different in more ways than you can count, so much so that it keeps you awake some nights. You’ve worried yourself sick thinking about how you might like them too much, but there’s no one else you’d rather be sharing these things with.

He flinches as a tiny kid whizzes past, his hold on your hand tightening even more. He is a giant ball of nerves wrapped in leather and spikes, all sweaty palms and calloused fingers locked in a death grip as you slowly pull him around the rink. You’re sure it’s an entertaining sight to see, something like an eldritch terror helping a zombified baby deer in corpse paint waddle across a frozen pond. But right now, no one else matters. It’s just you and Mary on the ice.

After a couple of laps they start to get the hang of it, remembering to bend their knees to keep their balance. They smile brightly at you as they make a full pass without wobbling.

“Darlin’, look!” Mary shouts excitedly. They start to push off, slowly picking up speed as the blades slide over the ice. The first little stumble fills their face with panic, but they quickly recover and gain enough confidence to skate a little ahead of you. “Look! I did it!”

You trail behind them, watching in wonder as your spooky, metalhead boyfriend continues skating on his own…

…for about 30 seconds before he hits a bad patch in the ice and completely wipes out. He drops like a stone, limbs going everywhere as his body lands hard. The momentum he’d built up keeps him sliding across the ice until he comes to rest with a solid thud against the wall.

“Mary!” you shout and take off. You hate how scared you sound, heart pounding hard as you wonder if he’s hurt or worse. You skate hard, nearly taking out a hoard of laughing children in your rush to reach him. As you approach, Mary lets out a loud groan and rolls onto their back, staring up at you.

“Darlin’, there are much easier ways to get me on my back,” he groans, wincing as he shifts. “Less painful ones too, unless that’s what you’re into.”

You shake your head and kneel next to him, quickly swiping at the tears forming in your eyes. “Mary, are you ok?”

“I think I broke my ass,” he informs you through gritted teeth. “Is it ok if I don’t wanna do this anymore?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” you agree with a nod.

As a single tear slides down your cheek, Mary cracks a cocky smile. He reaches up, wiping the tear away with his thumb. “You worried about me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, idiot!”

“Told you. You like me too much.”

“Yeah, I do. Now, let’s get you off the ice, ok?”

Mary sticks their arms in the air, waving their hands wildly. “Drag me around like a corpse, baby!”

You lean down to kiss him instead, unbothered by the ice now soaking cold, wet splotches into your jeans.

He hums, grinning back at you as you pulled away. “I gotta fall down in front of you more often.”

“Please don’t. Pretty sure my heart stopped.”

Slowly he presses a cold hand to your chest, fingertips searching out the frantic rhythm of your heartbeat. His touch only elevates things, your heart now kicking like bpm of Mary’s songs. Your eyes close as he shifts to his knees and brings a hand to your neck to feel your pulse, counting along in his head. He didn’t know fuck all about math or blood pressure, but he knows now that he made your heart race.

It wasn’t not the first time Mary kisses you like that—a soft, slow press of their lips to yours that meant more than either of you were willing to say. But it is the first time either of you had attempted to do so on ice. You shiver—from the cold or Mary’s touch you weren’t sure, but you knew you needed to get out of there fast.

“Mm, Mary?” you ask, lips still brushing his. “My place?”

“Fuck yeah,” they agree with a nod.

-x-

The front door slams into the wall and bounces back as you and Mary spill through. There’s probably a mark you will have to pay for later, but for now the two of you are too busy stumbling over each other’s feet to be concerned. He kicks the door shut and tries to shake off his jacket without moving away from you, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. You’re so focused on trying to undo at least one of his belts that it doesn’t even phase you when you catch the corner of the coffee table with your leg.

The jacket hits the floor with a soft thump. Mary’s hands move to your face, pulling you closer and closer as he licks into your mouth. A belt follows, free falling from around Mary’s hips because the stupid thing wasn’t functional—it was just in your way. Your jacket is next, worked away from your shoulders by his impatient hands. You find success with the other belt and manage to get his shirt over his head while he pulls at yours. Clothes and boots litter the hallway like breadcrumbs—a trail that leads straight to your dimly lit bedroom.

You land on the bed and pull Mary on top of you, legs tangling as you fight to slot your mouths back together. It’s a frenzied mess of hands and lips and tongues and teeth on skin that feels feverish, so hot you think you might combust. But you don’t want to stop, you can’t stop—not when his chest heaves like that.

“Fuck,” they groan, low and loud as they move to kiss your neck. They know that space below your ear drives you fucking crazy and they waste no time leaving an angry mark on your throat before moving down to mouth along your collarbone.

You draw a finger over the lines and obscure symbols etched into their arms. Up their biceps and across their shoulder where the ink spills onto their chest and disappears into the soft patch of light hair. You imagine Mary in their little bathroom with a shitty box dye and—Satan help you—you only want them more.

His breath hitches as your hands travel down their ribs, fingertips itching to touch the rest of him. He kisses you hard, almost desperate, but his own hands remain at an infuriatingly polite distance. A simple “please, Mary” whispered against his lips is all it takes to get Mary’s hands everywhere, those calloused fingers tracing over your tits. He’s rough in a way that feels perfect, pinching one nipple while biting the other to make you whine for him.

“C’mere,” he hums, urging your leg around his hip. He presses his forehead to yours, eyes closed tight as you brush against his length. “Fuck, darlin’.”

“Well, yeah, that’s the idea,” you tease and grind against them for emphasis.

“You’re trouble,” Mary quips, shaking their head. He moves to kiss your neck, trailing up to your ear to whisper, “ask me again.”

The words go straight to your center and Mary doesn’t miss the way you tremble against him. “Please, Mary,” you repeat softly. “Please touch me.”

When you see that devilish grin you know you’re probably going to regret giving him that kind of power, but as his hand slips between your legs, you stop caring about anything that isn’t the way Mary feels. His hand dips into your panties, fingers curving up to press against your entrance. Slowly, he pumps them in and out, carefully memorizing whatever actions pull the most sounds from you as he works you open. It’s all you can do to even the score and as you palm him over his boxers, the sound he makes has you feeling victorious already.

He withdraws his fingers and pushes his boxers down to coat his thick length with your slick. You never really had a chance at winning this game against him, but you’re happy to keep playing if it means getting fucked by Mary Goore.

“You’re so fucking good for me, darlin’,” he purrs, stroking his cock as he looks at you. He edges backward, trailing kisses over your stomach and inner thighs as he makes his way down. He moans loudly as he tastes you for the first time. The sound and the feeling has your thighs trying to press together, but Mary holds you in place as he draws his tongue over your swollen clit.

Your hands find his hair and he moans again as you tug roughly at the soft strands. His fingers push into your entrance, working at the same rhythm as his mouth. It’s too much and not enough, but fuck he feels too good. You barely manage the words before your hips raise to meet his touch. All you can do is let it wash over you, crying out his name as the world crashes down in the best way. He watches you shake, giving you just enough time to form a coherent thought before his mouth is on yours, the taste of yourself still on his tongue.

“Fuck, Mary,” you mutter against his lips and wrap your arms around his neck to keep him close.

“Is this what you want, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice low as he drags the tip of his cock through your folds. “You want me to fuck you?”

It’s so hot you want to strangle them, but you’re not about to fuck this up so you bite your lip and nod instead. It’s all the confirmation Mary needs. He captures you in a bruising kiss and swallows your moans as he guides himself to your entrance. His cock is so thick the stretch of him has you keening and clawing at his arms until he’s finally fully seated inside you. He stills himself, letting you get used to the feeling, but you kind of hope you never do. There’s soft kisses and words while they’re checking in with you, making sure you’re ok before they start to slowly pull out. A quick snap of his hips has you begging for more and that cocky smile of his returns. The whole thing is so unbelievably Mary that you really shouldn’t be surprised that he’s as skilled with his cock as he is with his hands or his mouth. But you’re more than happy to find out this way.

You’re just as surprised when Mary pushes your knees apart and hits an angle that nearly sends you over the edge way too quickly. It doesn’t stop him from trying again and again and again with that fucking grin on his face as you try desperately not to wake up everyone in the building. He pins your wrists to the bed and pounds into you a little harder each time you moan for him with your lip between your teeth, trying so hard to stay quiet.

With a few more thrusts of his hips and some filthy words, you’re coming undone beneath him, too fucked out on Mary Goore to know which way is up. It hits you hard, another white-hot wave sparking through your entire body and the only thing you can do is hold onto him as you ride it out. He groans as you tense around him, waiting for you to stop shaking before teasingly asking if you’re ok. Instead of replying you raise your hips, using your leverage to push Mary onto their back. You lock eyes with him as you lower yourself onto his length, mouth falling open as he fills you again. Before they can make some smartass remark, you move your hips, finding a pace that has both of your eyes rolling back. It’s all too much as Mary fucks you harder, his fingers working at your sensitive clit while asking you—begging you—to come for him again. It doesn’t take much, not with the way he asks and the way he thrusts into you like he already knows exactly how to fuck you. The third orgasm hits even harder, tears slipping from your eyes as overstimulation sets in.

“Oh fuck, darlin’, I’m gonna cum,” he warns as his grip tightens, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. He tips you onto your back, groaning as he slowly pulls out. He pumps his cock in his fist, eyes locked with yours as he spills across your stomach and marks you once more.

“Fuck. You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he confesses, blissed-out and breathless as he looks at you covered in sweat, cum, and those little marks he’d sucked into your skin.

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” he says with a grin, biting his lip. “Might even be a little bit obsessed with you, darlin’…but in a like… not totally creepy way.”

“Mary Goore? Not creepy?”

He laughs. “Well…ok I’m not going to try to wear your skin, sweetheart. But I think about you an absolutely unhealthy amount.”

“Your post-orgasm honesty is fucking adorable, Goore,” you admit with a smile.

“Ah, well, I guess we will have to keep talking like this.”

“I guess we will.”

Mary sighs and rest on his side, hair softly falling over his eyes. He gives you a shy smile you don’t often see from him, before burying his face in the pillow.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he mumbles. “It’s stupid. Forget it.”

“C’mon Goore. Tell me.”

“I’m just…” They pause to cringe. “I’m just, ugh I dunno…happy?”

You snort out a laugh. “Well, I would hope so.”

“No, like, not… I mean, yes, happy about that but like…this. You and me.”

“Me and you, huh? Is this your way of asking if I want to be an ‘us?’”

“Kinda thought we were?”

“Yes, but now we’ve said it. That’s like…official official.”

“Officially us, then?” Mary asks and reaches over to tap your nose. “Is that cool with you?”

“Very much.”

He grins brightly. “Well, if that’s settled. Think you can walk ok? Or should I carry you to the shower?”

#my fics #my writing #More Goore '24 #mary goore x reader #mary goore smut #mary goore fanfic #mary goore fic #x reader #reader insert #mdni #repugnant fanfiction #mary goore

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mrsmikaelsxn · 1 year

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Kissing Tears

masterlist

pairing: stefan salvatore x female reader

warnings: i guess light angst, mentions of past abuse, fluff, kisses

summary: stefan has a bad dream of the past when his father would abuse him, you comfort him and calm his crying

a/n: this is the first time i'm writing angst (i wouldn't even really call it that) because i hate angst and would choose fluff and/or smut over it anyday

song: take on the world - you me at six

You were asleep and it was a quiet night.

Though you were suddenly awoken from the dream you were having when you felt something shaking next to you.

You sit up and rub your eyes before looking to your left. You see Stefan shaking slightly on the mattress with tears streaming down his face. You reach over and switch the lamp that was next to your bed on.

You quickly place your hands on his shoulder and shake him. He hasn't woken up yet so you call his name.

Finally, he bolts upwards and looks around him. You pull him into your arms and kiss his head.

"Y/n," he breathe out and he leans into your embrace.

"Shh, my love, I'm right here," you whisper as you run your fingers through his fluffy hair.

His breathing somewhat calms down and his tears slow. You take his face in your hands and pepper him in kisses, kissing the tears away as you do so.

"When you're ready to talk, I'm listening," you smile at him.

He lets out a cry that sounded like a whimper. "It was my father," he starts explaining in a small voice.

You play and braid his hair, as much as you can since his hair isn't long. He loves when you do that.

"The dream was like a flashback, to when Damon and I were kids. Our father would hit us. Part of the flashback I had was when my father got really mad, he took his burnt cigar and burnt Damon's hand with it. It was so bad, y/n," he cries.

"Shh, it's okay, darling. He's not here anymore," you say.

He sniffles and you take one of your hands to wipe his eyes.

"I know, I don't know how to stop the dreams though," he frowns.

"I'll figure something out," you promise, "I'm also so sorry for what the two of you went through when you were kids"

He smiles sadly and sits up.

"I'm going to get some water," he say, "go back to sleep"

"Are you sure? I would be more than happy to stay up with you," you tell him.

"I'm sure," you look at him unsure but he just nods with a smile and walks out to get his drink.

A few minutes later he walks back in to see the sleeping beautiful figure of his girlfriend. His lips pull into a gentle smile as he climbs into bed, wraps his arms around you, and pulls you into his chest. Your warmth gives him extra comfort as he falls back into a nightmare-less sleep.

#nina writes 🤭💗#the vampire diaries #stefan salvatore #stefan salvatore x you #stefan salvatore x reader #stefan salvatore oneshot #stefan salvatore fanfiction #stefan salvatore imagine #stefan salvatore fluff #stefan salvatore angst #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #tvd

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bidisasterevankinard · 2 months

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Wip Wednesday

guess who again started new wip? me. now I'm with big bucktommy + eddie angst. For now I titled it I'm not the only one(work title at least i think so) bc of the song i listed while wrote all the 1k+ words i have for now. Part of these words here for you

(song for the mood)

The date was incredible and the kiss only better :)

You’re amazing Tommy <3

Buck tries to deny the proof for just five more seconds, praying to Tommy’s phone to show something else. To change the letters to something less heartbreaking. But as mocking him the last message from Eddie comes.

You should tell Buck sooner

Now Buck knows all the weeks when he tried to reason with himself that Tommy and Eddie would never do it to him, that his boyfriend and his best friend would never betray him like that, the weeks when he tried to tell himself it’s was just his insecurities talking, were nothing more that him fooling himself in believing the best. Nothing good ever happens to him. And Tommy and Eddie never were met to be his forever.

Or they chose to not be his forever. But maybe each other's. And Buck would eventually forgive them for breaking his heart. He would forgive Tommy for choosing Eddie, and before Eddie was ready, trying to have fun with a good second option like him.

But he can never forgive them the betrayal he feels right now. He can never forgive them for how they made him feel loved and safe with them in a romantic and family way only to be humiliated and destroyed by both of them. What has he done to them that they decided that it is normal to have a romance behind his back? How could Tommy cheat on him weeks after he told him that he loved him and asked him to move in? How could Eddie after everything they go through together, after everything Buck has done to him, go and steal Buck’s boyfriend, who he knows Buck loves more than life?

How could they both come after their hang outs over last weeks and look him in the eyes, smile and be ok? How could Tommy kiss him when he most likely just had his tongue inside Eddie’s throat? And good thing if only the throat.

Buck feels sick. What if Eddie and Tommy had sex? The same days Tommy would come to him and fuck him? He feels so dirty just thinking about it.

He, with shaking hands, takes a photo of the messages on his phone and runs to the place where he knows he will be safe, where he can cry his heart out and find a permanent place to live while he looks at the new apartments for himself.

tagged by @devirnis @ebdaydreamer @cal-daisies-and-briars @daffi-990 @theotherbuckley @tizniz @wikiangela

Tagging @watchyourbuck @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbi-ckley @rogerzsteven @rainbow-nerdss @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @underwaterninja13 @usereddie @pirrusstuff @aspecbuddie @saybiwithme @spotsandsocks @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @honestlyeddie-im-bi @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 @loserdiaz @bibuckbuckley @bigfootsmom @bekkachaos @bewilderedbuckley @neverevan @monsterrae1 @sunshinediaz @bi-buckrights

#IT'S BUCKTOMMY FIC WITH SOME MISUNDERSTANDINGS BETWEEN BUCK AND TOMMY AND EDDIE #tommy and eddie are just bros #but #buck's insecurities and little secret between tommy and eddie made buck believe he was cheated #bucktommy #tevan #evan buckley #eddie diaz #evan buck buckley #tommy kinard #my wips #I'm not the only one wip #Spotify

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hearts4golbach · 5 months

Text

The Night Shift.

chapter 1.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

Repetitive. "What can I get for you, sir?" I asked calmly. Without looking up from his phone, the tall dark skin man replied with 'number 4.' I hummed with acknowledgment and typed in his order. "Will that be all?" With a nod, he handed me a 20 dollar bill. I muttered okay under my breath and went to make his order. What a dick.

Repetitive. The creamer looked like a swirling storm as I poured it in his cup. I made his egg and ham bagel carelessly, my muscle memory coming in handy as I listened to my favorite song through my single headphone. I gently nodded my head, as to not drag attention to myself.

Repetitive. I quickly gave him his order and leaned against the counter, staring out at the midnight sky. It was a sight I had been seeing for as long as I could remember. This small cafe was my home away from home. I spent most of my childhood here since this was a family owned business, specifically my family. I was beginning to resent my parents for keeping me trapped here. At least the night shift was calm.

Repetitive. Another customer walked in. I sighed before plastering a fake smile on my face as he walked up. He had black, combed over hair. The side part covered part of his eye, but I could see the dark eyeshadow under his eye along with red streaks.

"I love your makeup! What can I get started for you today?" I commented cheerfully.

A small smile grew on his face, his two lip piercings shifting slightly. "Thank you. Can I just get a donut, please?"

"Sure! What kind? We have chocolate, strawberry, etcetera. The flavors are displayed over there, if you want to look."

His hand moved up to his chin. "What would you recommend?"

"I'm a chocolate girl for life." I snickered. "But the apple fritter is a fan favorite. You can choose whether or not you want cinnamon on it."

"Okay, I'll get an apple fritter with cinnamon and a chocolate donut, please." He looked up, making eye contact with me as his smile stayed on his face.

"Coming right up." I commented, turning my back towards him.

"Are you working alone?" He asked cautiously.

"Uh," I hesitated, praying he wasn't going to murder me. I decided against it. "yeah. I run night shift everyday of the week. Nobody usually comes in at night. I also like the alone time." I explained.

"do you ever feel lonely?" his head slightly tilted to the side as I glanced back at him.

"more or less. I mean, I don't like dealing with cocky customers alone but, you know." I shrugged. I looked back at him and then at the clock. He had a tired look in his eyes. "What brought you here?"

"I couldn't sleep, I guess. So I went for a drive and stumbled upon this cafe so I thought I might as well stop for a snack if I cant sleep." He leaned over the glass display, his ring-clad fingers tapping quietly against the glass.

"Damn, pardon my language, anything keeping you up?" I pondered.

"my ex girlfriend is trying to ruin my life." He looked down at my hands.

I passed the donuts over the counter. "That sucks, I really hope everything works out for you." I smiled softly.

"Thank you." he said quietly. "I'm johnnie."

"I'm Y/n." I shook his hand gently. they were soft and warm, a comforting sensation.

"The chocolate one is for you. Take care." Johnnie smiled weakly before turning towards the door.

"What? i- thank you so much. good night, or, morning I guess." I replied as he looked back and gave me one last nod.

I carefully bit into the donut, feeling guilty for accepting it. Oh, well.

#fanfiction #fanfic #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert #youtube #cafe #cafe aesthetic

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rey-jake-therapist · 8 months

Text

I was reading @tickldpnk8 's excellent meta about Desire, when something they said about Dream disapproving of Destruction's relationship with Ishtar the goddess of love planted a series of questions in my mind...

First question: how their function influences the Endless' love life? Why was Destruction drawn to a goddess symbolizing Love? Why did Dream disapprove it? Why did Dream neglect Calliope after she gave birth to Orpheus and why did he really severe his connection with them both?

Was it all just..... personal?

When I read that Destruction had a romance with the goddess of Love, my first reaction was to find it.... weird. What do Destruction and Love have in commun? At first view, not much even nothing... except maybe that destruction Can happen because of deceived love?

Dream is the romantic of the family, it's Destruction himself who states it in Song of Orpheus when he tells Orpheus he's just like his father. Dreams inspire the artists and the poets, so his union with Calliope, the poet's muse, probably made sense to everyone (except her sisters, who thought in their great wisdom that Dream was an asshole 😂). But Destruction and Love? Yeah I can totally see why it raised a few eyebrows in the Endless family. I mean, we know Dream in particular disapproved the relationship but Ishtar told her friend that her romance with Destruction ended because of "his family" not just her brother in law, so my guess is that she had to deal with vehement hostility, from everyone not just Dream.

Why would be that? My headcanon's now that the Endless feared that Love would be a bad influence on Destruction, because he would be less kin to do his job right since he would start seeing things differently, about humans, the love they can have for each other and the beauty of it. And I actually suspect that his relationship with Ishtar may have had him question his function indeed, and its necessity. Maybe it's really because he knew Love (he sort of dated it!) that he walked away from the Endless family and didn't choose anyone to succeed him? He knew that love would always end up destroyed but he didn't want this responsibility anymore?

(Please notice I'm mostly talking out loud here.... these are just some random thoughts and questionings....)

Now, Dream and Calliope. In the Wake, Calliope says Dream was basically the perfect husband until she became pregnant. It's often thought that their relationship was damaged by what happened to Orpheus, but the fact is that they started drifting apart long before that. Of course as humans it's tempting to think that Dream lost interest in his wife because she became a mother and he looked at her differently: that's what men often do, right? But Dream isn't a man and Calliope is a goddess; the product of their union was Orpheus, who represented "the supreme power of poetry and music to enchant all natural things". If I look at the evolution of Dream and Calliope's marriage purely on their respective function, the fact that 1. they had separate lives even when they were in love and happy 2. They drifted apart once Orpheus was conceived, both things make perfect sense!

It's often assumed that Dream "gets tired" of his lovers once the thrills is gone aka once the seduction phase is over. But I think it's oversimplifying and again, forgetting that Dream isn't human, he doesn't think like one. My current headcanons regarding Dream and Calliope are that,

They got married first because it seemed to be the perfect union regarding their respective functions. It doesn't mean they didn't love each other, but Dream has loved others before and after Calliope... she's the only one he married, and I don't think it's a coincidence.

They didn't live at the same place, Calliope visited Dream' realm only when she wanted: doesn't it reflect perfectly what inspiration does to us? Coming and going through our dreams, being absent sometimes for months even years....

Once Orpheus was conceived, it's possible that Dream's interest in the relationship faded because... His union with Calliope had filled its purpose. Yeah, I'm aware of how bleak it sounds, but again I'm thinking strictly in terms of concepts, which Dream and Calliope are.

The fact that Dream severed his connection with both Orpheus and Calliope is of course explained within the story told in the comics, but it also can find its roots in the humans'world: the vision that humans have of art, dreams and gods HAVE changed. They don't seem as intrinsically connected as (maybe?) they used to be, at some point science took over and humans kept believing in dreams, but in gods and mythology in general? Not so much. The divorce between Dream and Calliope, I think, symbolizes this dissociation.

I can't NOT also tag @writing-for-life and @poobtato on this big subject ;)

#the sandman #dream of the endless #sandman meta #the sandman spoilers #The sandman song or Orpheus #destruction of the endless #The sandman Calliope

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harlowsbby · 1 year

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i have a request where reader who’s a singer and jack are dating but he’s never affectionate to her and he never spends time with her so he’s always spending his time at clubs and strip clubs but he never really cheats and his friends are always telling him he has the best girl he can find but he’s too blind to see how good he really has it with her but she breaks up with him and months after the break up she comes out with the song “Not another love song” by mariah the scientist and jack realizes he misses her more than ever but she over him already and chooses herself in the end🫶🏼

Keep you in mind

( I kinda switched it up if you don’t mind )

He never deserved you he never did, that’s what everyone ever told you or that’s what you read online through the blogs and other social media platforms.

You thought Jack loved you and adored you and treasured what the two of you had but in reality he didn’t, he could care less about you and every single thing he lied and hid about all eventually came to the light.

Whenever you looked at Jack you saw someone who could do no wrong you painted this image that he was the man of your dreams but he was far from it.

————————————————————————

Rolling over in your shared bed with Jack you smiled seeing him fast asleep, some mornings you’d wake up before him and just watch him sleep.

You loved admiring him he always looked so peaceful and at ease. Most of the time he was running around and doing who knows what. You caressed his chest softly, drawing random shapes on his bare chest and watching his chest rise and fall.

“You know if you’re gonna watch me sleep baby at least don’t be creepy with it.” Jack spoke causing to jump slightly not expecting for him to be awake. “How long have you been awake for?”

He opened his right one and looked at you with a smirk displayed on his lips. “I’d say long enough to know that you definitely do fart.” He laughed while you hid your face in his chest from embarrassment.

“Don’t be all embarrassed now I heard you loud and clear.” “Jack stop that’s embarrassing!” You yelled and lifted your head from his chest. “It was cute baby and it’s normal so stop hiding it.” He joked but you rolled your eyes and went to lean back into his touch but he quickly got up.

You frowned and sighed he never really showed you any type of affection so you were never really fazed by it but sometimes it did get to you. Especially late night at the clubs Neelam or your friend Chloe would be snuggled up to their men while you’d be shivering, cleaning on the club wall waiting for the Uber to arrive while Jack talked and took pictures with fans.

“So, what are we doing today? I was thinking maybe drive around and get some coffee and just have lunch somewhere.” You watched Jack grab his toothbrush and start brushing his teeth.

“Or we can just go see Clay and Urban we haven’t seen them in a few days.” Once he finished brushing his teeth he came out the bathroom. “Actually babe I have to go to the studio for a few hours and then I have to fly off to Vegas for that club appearance.”

“When will you be home then?” You watched with sad eyes as he grabbed his suitcase and packed a few outfits and some of his essentials. “I’m not really sure baby but don’t wait up okay? I’ll be back pretty late.” He walked over to you and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before grabbing his things and leaving.

“Well I guess it’s just me.” Mumbling to yourself before flopping back into the bed. Sometimes you wish you’d talk to Jack and tell him how you really felt but you knew that would result into an argument.

Maybe he’d change eventually but that’s something that you’re constantly telling yourself but the reality of it was that he wasn’t changing and wasn’t planning on it.

————————————————————————

“Jack you’re a fool man.” “He really is if I had a women like Y/N waiting on me at home I’d never be outside.” Jack was laid up at the club he had just finished his performance and decided to stay for a bit longer instead of just going right back home.

“Are you all still going on about Y/N? I promise you all she’s fine and she isn’t going anywhere.” Jack knew that for a fact, you were stuck on him like glue and no matter how absent he was in this relationship he knew you weren’t going anywhere.

“How do you know that? Maybe one day she’ll wake up and get tired of all your late night adventures.” Clay was right and even though Jack was his brother he considered you family and he hated the way his brother was so absent in your relationship.

You loved affection and receiving as well as giving love and affection you hated the way it felt so one sided, even on days that Jack was home he wasn’t really home. He’d be done somewhere or upstairs sleeping the day away. He’d be sleep and you’d be awake and when you’re sleeping he’s awake.

You always had to contribute to his lack of effort and you knew it was best the two of you went your separate ways, your heart was wanting and needing more but your heart belonged to Jack.

“Why are you putting all of this negative energy in the air? It’s like you all want her to leave.” It got quiet everyone took sips from their drinks not really having a response. “So it’s like that? When I wanna do me it’s an issue?” Jack was now getting defensive not because he was mad but because he knew everything they were saying was true.

“We’re not saying that but maybe loving someone else just isn’t for you right now, Y/N deserves someone who’s physically there and locked in just like her. She doesn’t need an absent partner.” With that everyone walked away from the booth leaving Jack alone.

He was no longer in the mood to party the only thing on his mind right now was you.

————————————————————————

“This is a really depressing song don’t you think?” Your manger and friend Kira all came over that night, the three of you were going over which song would be your latest single for your upcoming album.

“It’s depressing yes but it speaks volumes.” You expressed and went and played back your song ‘Not A Love Song’. Kira and Alex bopped along to the song.

“What’s the meaning behind this song?” Alex looked up at you. “Basically it’s just about a women feeling as if her partner isn’t putting enough effort and that she’s always filling up the empty pieces in their relationship.” Alex watched you intensely. “How did this song come about?”

“Alex, come on let’s just go over the cover art.” You went to take the laptop from her but she pulled it back. “Y/N.” She said in a threatening tone, you sighed there was no use of lying. “Jack was the inspiration, we just well he doesn’t spend time with me anymore I feel like I’m the only one trying.”

“Have you talked about this with him?” Kira took your hand and rubbed smoothing circles on the back of your hand. “No what’s the point he won’t listen he’s always out and on the road and honestly I just can’t.” You stopped yourself.

“Can’t what babe?” With quivering lips you looked up at the both of them. “I can’t.. I can’t do this anymore I need to choose me because in the end it’ll only be me.”

————————————————————————-

Jack was on his way back home after Nemo pulled him to the side and talked to him about how the way he was treating you he had to admit he was wrong.

He loved you dearly and truly and didn’t want things to end between the two of you. He tried texting and calling a few times but never got an answer from you.

“She’s probably sleeping in I saw on Alex’s story that they were up late at some bar.” It was true you were all at a bar but only because you were attempting to drink your pain and emotions away.

“Yeah she probably is, I hope she likes the flowers I got her and honestly I hope she hears me out.” Nemo shrugged his shoulders, “I hope she does man.”

When they pulled up to the driveway Jack thanked Nemo for giving him a ride. He was nervous but just prayed that everything will go smooth.

Upon opening the front door he was met with a cold breeze making him shiver. “Baby? Are you up, why is it so cold.” The hairs on the back of his neck stood up from the coldness. “Babe?” He slowly made his way upstairs.

“Y/N, are you fucking around with me or what.” He grinned but the grin quickly faded when he saw not only the somewhat empty bedroom but the empty closet ad well and a note attached to his side of the bed.

Dear Jack

- you know I’ll always love you and support you but I think it’s time we start loving one another a few feet apart. Lately I’ve been feeling like this relationship is one sided and a break might be needed and hopefully when the time is right we’ll reunite.

- Love Y/N.

“So she really left me.” He mumbled to himself and flopped down on the mattress. He felt defeated like he let not only you down but what the two of you had. Maybe the two of you didn’t deserve a love but instead a poem that described how everything went wrong.

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n

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delphinus-dancer · 8 months

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A deep dive into a swan lake and flipping the (metaphorical, sadly) bird:

A Mihaly-centric view of JD 2024 story mode

(because they’re my favorite and I’ve thought about this way too much over the past few days weeks) Spoilers for JD 24 in the almost-essay under the cut, including some images!

Starting off with Mihaly’s first appearance in the story mode in Canned Heat, it seems like not too much time has passed since the end of jd23- Sara seems to be at the same party, Jack still at the tower, etc. (how Brezziana got to the beach that fast and had a workout class is something I’m going to guess was preplanned before everything went down).

We can assume this would be the first time Mihaly’s come back to their room since then (which makes the idea of Wanderlust FaceTiming everyone like 5 minutes after they left even funnier). Of course there’s the shot of Mihaly ripping the poster off the wall, which probably puts their feelings into words better than anything else within an E10 rating. <Side note: I don’t know much on lore but does the setting mean there’s a chance they’re from Eternyx? Both maps started in dark crowd/nighttime so wasn’t sure if confirmed or not>

While Sara has the spot pretty much clinched for a Night Swan’s foil, Mihaly is a really close second. This shot literally puts it into perspective- Mihaly’s color scheme has as many color elements of Master Panda’s (shirt/jacket/foot wraps) as it does Night Swan’s (hair-that-perfectly-matches-the-poster/ gold of headphones and glasses/pants). Their dance style also overlaps moreso with hers than the other dancers, with the precision and technique of their moves, from the footwork and leaps of Rather Be to the dramatic powerful motions of their Swan Lake part. It’s pretty obvious who the song is directed to, and what makes the song so interesting compared to their last story mode one is how loose it feels. This is unlike their usual technical style because of the connection to Night Swan with the control demanded of certain moves that they’ve presumably mastered- maybe they were fueled by a desire to achieve her success. Regardless, the song and emotion fueled, less ‘perfect’ dance lets Mihaly basically flip the bird at Night Swan’s corrupted idea of perfection. Either way, it culminates in them achieving a new high in their training with channeling their ‘true’ inspiration of the (master) panda. Although they retain most of their same costume after sort of becoming a furry?, a noticeable change is that the black leggings are understandably switched to something looser- but to the navy color of master panda instead of Mihaly’s black.

What’s also interesting is that the specific point Night Swan interrupts Mihaly’s song isn’t at the beginning like Brezziana/Sara/Jack’s or the very end like Wanderlust, but at the climax of their journey for the song. Not only does this imply that she may have been watching the entire time but choose to interfere later, but she is also the only character to see the Panda form before Swan Lake.

As Night Swan basically invades Mihaly’s //mind/headspace/flowspace?/no idea on the lore// they initially try to fight her off, but unlike Brezziana in her map, don’t fight until the end. Although Mihaly themselves wasn’t being corrupted like the background coaches in Brezziana’s map, they still let themselves, in a sense, lose a more internal battle to Night Swan as they leave the metaphorical and literal height of their understanding and power in the Flow and come back to the real world.

This then takes us straight into Swan Lake, which is really interesting for the Night Swan/Mihaly interactions and how they compare to the other dancers. Although from a format standpoint it makes sense for the movements in the bridge to be different, there are more differences too.

A big one that I only realized once I watched Majesty again is how the other swan soldiers/minions were turned back- and that was mainly by doing the same moves to ultimately come together and bring the dancers back. Here it’s the opposite for effectiveness- what causes Wanderlust and Brezziana to fail is that they think that’s how to stop Sara. Sara matches the moves in a way that <well> matches, if not surpasses the power that they put in. As a result of meeting them head on and assuming control, Sarah actively corrupts the two of them. She makes motions to bring in the smoke, and both of them also are stationary/surrendering as their color drains.

When it gets to Mihaly, the dynamic with Sara changes completely. While Sara starts off watching with the same expression as when the others challenged her, it shifts as she realizes she can’t emulate what Mihaly does, with the movements almost like Night Swan’s-dramatic and slower. It comes to a head when Mihaly channels the panda again and visibly knocks Sara back, so she’s unable to push any of the smoke towards them.

Sara’s expression also becomes noticeably softer for the rest of Mihaly’s part, and she doesn’t reassert that dominance/control she had earlier- with dancing or the smoke. See how she looks almost pensive in the photos above/below, especially compared to the earlier parts.

Speaking of the smoke, this is the key part about Night Swan seeing the panda earlier. She knows it exists and how to force it off after the earlier song, and as Sara is incapacitated/distracted, she presumably sends down the smoke that starts attacking Mihaly in Panda form.

This attack is why despite having a chance to get through to Sara, Mihaly still ends up failing as they return to normal. However, they are the only character to be so dynamic in their active corruption. Not only does Mihaly manage to send a signal out to Jack, which was a display of power never seen from them previously, but they also do it as they are actively losing their color and control. Unlike the other dances, Mihaly still moves as they lose control, possibly having the strength to continue to fight had they not realized that Night Swan was attacking alongside Sara.

Although the signal is in the shape of a pawprint, its underlying meaning is more than just a plot device to send Jack on a wild goose chase (pun intended that I couldn’t pass up). With the way it opens to form a window into the location from such a distance, it almost seems to be a step away from a full fledged portal. With the sudden appearance of a new power, it’s also an interesting parallel to Night Swan, who here uses powers to create a unique form of control that wasn’t seen in the previous game and who regularly uses portals with her magic.

Another note is the lights that appear for each of the dancers in the upper left corner during the song as they take on Sara. While Brezziana and Wanderlust’s fade out a few moves before they fall, Mihaly’s still goes strong even as they completely turn grey, as seen the the photos above. This could be a possible indication to them having a more stable power than the other dancers, or a form of magic more comparable/competitive with Night Swan’s. Also to note about the lights: looking on the floor during the song, the diamonds flash 3 colors: hot pink (Night Swan), a deep green (Sara, especially while corrupted- her original outfit but darker), and a teal (the exact same color as Mihaly’s flow energy). Like everything else, this is a stretch, but it could possibly mean that Night Swan’s control and magic background could have stemmed from a pure form of flow like Mihaly practices.

This could also be a factor in why they retain the most of their original outfit in the corrupted design- possibly a form of resistance like they displayed during swan lake or general flow magic? Notice that while they have significant changes to their robe/face/accessories, their feather motifs are much less pronounced than the others, simply appearing as marks on the robe that can be mistaken for stripes, rather than overt feathers like Wanderlust/Sara or Sara/Brezziana’s feather tights. Unlike the others, Mihaly keeps their leggings exactly the same (which were notably lost in the panda form, as mentioned earlier), and interestingly enough, their wraps. I initially thought that Night Swan would have changed that to something like ballet slippers with ribbons, so I think it’s really interesting that they are the only dancer who had any details remain exactly the same, especially one that had unique opportunities to be changed.

Going off of that, since they were the last to turn and have (some?) control over their outfit and (some?) magic that may be similar to Night Swan, I could see them being the first/easiest coach for Jack or someone else to turn back when he (hopefully) takes on the coaches.

One last note is the number of maps per story mode coach at this point. Counting Stronger /Survivor, and Treasure/Lose Yourself (hopefully coming soon after that ending!), that seems to be setting a trend for the other coaches to potentially have an additional map as well. If so, maybe that would be one where Mihaly could individually be freed, or a chance for them to further explore their rapidly developing powers (maybe in a confrontation with Night Swan?? a girl can dream).

And there y’all have it! Thank you for somehow reading to the end!! Happy dancing!!

this took forever oh my god

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