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bumblesimagines · 7 months ago

Text

Imagine:

Comforting Tara after night terrors

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical Scream warnings, mentions of massacres, survivors guilt, PTSD and PTSD-induced nightmares, soft angst, loss of a parent

~~~

Bundled up beneath a thick blanket and listening to the sound of raindrops pelting against the glass window, (Y/N) felt himself being slowly lured into the embrace of sleep. There was a subtle weight in his chest, an anxiety about closing his eyes and reliving the memories he so desperately tried to keep buried in the form of vicious nightmares.

Nearly a full year had passed since the murders in Woodsboro, since his father chose to sacrifice himself to save the lives of the Carpenter sisters. Even though (Y/N) knew his father died doing exactly what he spent his whole life doing, the pain barely eased. Grief was a tricky thing to navigate. Sometimes, he wanted to break everything in sight until his palms were raw and bleeding. Sometimes, he did break things: glasses, mirrors, phones, lamps, snapping things until his mother cradled him in her arms through her own tears.

Other times he stared at the ceiling, his body slumped in his bed but his mind drifted along in a sea of numbness without a single thought, emotion, or desire cracking through. Time passed him by quicker during those days. He'd blink and suddenly the clock would read 5 PM instead of 9 AM, his memory left with gaps as he tried recalling what he had done throughout the day. It never made him feel any better.

A gentle buzz came from the nightstand and he grew still, half-lidded eyes dragging away from the window to gaze at his charging phone. He reached out, albeit reluctantly, and picked it up, eyes screwing shut when the screen lit up and almost blinded him. (Y/N) gave a heavy sigh and rolled over onto his back, the rustling of the covers lost to the noise outside.

Tara Can you come over? Tara I need you.

He blinked the bleariness from his eyes and forced himself to sit up, his back hunching uncomfortably as he reread the messages until his tired mind finally processed them and prompted him to slip out of bed to get dressed. He changed into casual clothing because he'd be damned if he'd go out into the dirty streets of New York in his favorite pajamas, and stumbled a bit as he wiggled sockless feet into his sneakers before shoving his phone in his coat pocket. He glanced at the clock. 11:39 PM. It didn't matter. Tara needed him.

He quietly moved through the penthouse on light feet he'd perfected through the years of sneaking out (or attempting to), his eyes locking onto the doors when he reached the end of the hallway, only for his nose to crinkle at the sight of his mother still awake and on the couch with her laptop resting over her thighs. He stopped and took in a deep breath before stepping out into the large living room, bracing himself for whatever unpredictable chat his mother wrapped him up in.

Gale barely looked up from the screen as she spoke, blue eyes half hidden through a squint. "Where are you going?"

"Out."

"Out where?"

"Tara's place."

At that, she stopped typing and raised her gaze to look at him, her perfectly plucked brows shooting up so high they nearly met her hairline. Gale lifted her reading glasses onto the top of her head and folded her arms across her chest, her face morphing into a look he knew well. "I don't know if you've noticed, sweetheart, but it's raining. I'm sure it can wait 'til morning."

(Y/N) rolled from his toes to his heels and shrugged casually, hoping the way he slowly inched toward the doors wasn't noticeable. "It's important. She said she needed me." He offered an explanation, which hardly ever helped his case when it came to Gale.

"In what way, exactly?" She asked, subtle amusement finding its way into her tone and making him cringe. Sometimes she felt less like a mother and more like a begrudged aunt far out of her depth. Parenthood was Dewy's idea, (Y/N) had learned that when he was a child.

"Mooom." (Y/N) groaned and heat erupted across his face that definitely wouldn't help him. "It's not like that, I swear."

"Well, most people your age are already pretty sexually active, so you can't blame me for asking." She mimicked his shrug and resumed her typing, speaking casually as if she hadn't just insinuated he'd be willing to walk through pouring rain just to hook up with his girlfriend of a couple months. "It's expected, sweetheart. Girls and guys are going to be throwing themselves at you now that you're off to college. You're my kid, after all."

(Y/N) blew an exasperated raspberry and rolled his eyes at the seriousness in her tone despite the way his lips threatened to twitch up. "I'm just going to check on her, that's all. Nothing else, I promise. Sam would kill me." He assured her and flashed one of the charming smiles he'd inherited from her, one hand curling around the cool metal of the door handle.

Gale hummed. "Take condoms, just in ca-"

"Mom!"

The streets of New York City were still bustling despite the late hour, with many older residents walking to or from work while the younger residents walked the streets in search of a new bar or club to spend part of the night in. The rain stopped for no one so no one stopped for the rain; New York never failed to live up to its name of the city that never sleeps. Maybe that was why his mother loved it so much.

He hailed a taxi to escape the rain and slumped back in the backseat with his head lolled to the side to watch the city lights pass by in a blur, laughter and chatter and music coming and going as they traveled through busy streets and less populated areas alike until they stopped in front of Tara's apartment complex. It was somewhat run down and in an alright area but the rent was cheap and it was close enough to Blackmore that Sam felt comfortable enough letting her go to school alone.

Thanking the driver and handing over the money, he tugged his hoodie over his head and stepped out into the chilly air, listening to the squealing of tires and the occasional splash of someone stepping on a puddle as he contemplated how exactly he was going to get to Tara without alerting Sam and listening through another lecture. He hardly blamed her for growing overprotective- her mother had accidentally fallen pregnant with her after all- but it really complicated things for him when he simply wanted to spend time with his girlfriend.

Taking a deep breath and stepping into the alleyway, his eyes tracked the fire escape until he spotted familiar curtains shielded behind a closed window. "Alright.. let's do this." He muttered, releasing the breath through his teeth and reaching up to pull own the cold ladder of the fire escape. The things he did for those he cared about.. he never expected it'd lead to climbing onto a fire escape close to midnight in the rain.

The rickety fire escape trembled under his weight and shook lightly with each step, squealing and groaning despite his best attempts at moving quietly to avoid rousing the neighbors. He winced at each little noise and quietly grumbled under his breath until he reached Tara's window and gave a few small knocks, hoping and praying Sam and their new roommate had already gone to bed. His shoulders sagged with relief when a light flickered behind the curtains, the smile on his face fading when he took in her appearance.

Her eyes were red and puffy and streaks of tearstains went down her flushed cheeks. A nightmare, no doubt, one of many that plagued them nearly every night. He'd seen the look plenty of times before on his parents; a look of pure exhaustion, fear, anger, and even sometimes guilt. Her pulled-back hair looked messy as if she'd spent at least an hour tossing and turning, and her fingers subtly trembled while she flipped the locks on her window to open it.

(Y/N) ducked inside, keeping one hand on the windowsill to avoid stumbling and making noise before he pushed the window back down. Tara swayed forward but caught herself, hands growing clammy whilst she waited for him to shed his drenched coat. "Hey-" She threw her arms around his waist and buried her face in the nape of his neck, a shaky and shallow sigh escaping her lips. "It's okay, Tara, I'm here."

Her arms only tightened around and she sniffled, his skin growing wet from the tears rolling down her cheeks. "I-I had a dream.. about Wes and- and Amber. I couldn't- I couldn't save him in time, (Y/N). He- He needed me and.. and I couldn't-"

"It's not your fault." (Y/N) cooed softly, running his hand along the top of her head as her body began to tremble and shake with each choked sob. His eyes flickered toward her door and lingered at the bottom, ears waiting to pick up the creaking of someone walking but finding none. Good. Sam and the roommate were probably asleep, tuckered out from their days, and oblivious to the world. "What Amber and Ricky did is not on you."

"But there had to have been signs." Tara peeled back to look at him, her brows knitting together in frustration. "Amber was my best friend, (Y/N). How could I not have seen that something was wrong? I didn't even- I didn't even know she had a boyfriend or that she was a Stab fanatic- there are always signs. And I was so blind and now Wes and Liv and-"

"Tara, hey, come on." His hands cupped her face and he delicately brushed his thumbs over the corner of her eyes to wipe away the dripping tears. She sniffled again and averted her eyes shamefully but he gave her a gentle nudge to bring her eyes back to his. "It's not your fault."

"But Dewey-"

"It's not your fault or Sam's fault, if anything, the hospital and police were at fault for not taking it more seriously. You should've been guarded more securely and- and those assholes should've been caught sooner." (Y/N) curled his arms around her and stepped forward, gently pushing her toward the bed and taking a seat. Tara nuzzled into his side and slumped against him, her eyes beginning to droop. "None of this is any of our faults, Tara. We don't pick what bad things happen to us, and I know your friends wouldn't want you to blame yourself for what happened to them."

"I know," Tara mumbled, her body slowly growing limp in his hold.

"Get some rest. I know you need it."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #scream #scream x reader #scream x you #scream x y/n #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x male reader #scream x riley!reader #scream x weathers!reader #gale weathers #gale weathers x child!reader

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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 1 month ago

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The Fairy Uso -- Jhea *crackfic*

Rhea dropped her gym bag by the door with a thud and toed off her sneakers, sweat still clinging to her neck from her afternoon training session. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

Then she saw it.

The mug.

The same stupid mug she’d asked Jey to wash four times. It sat in the sink like it owned the place and crusted with whatever ungodly protein sludge he drank before workouts, and now stained with a grayish ring that might’ve once been coffee. Or possibly death.

“Joshua,” she said calmly, dangerously.

From the couch, Jey tilted his head, his PS5 controller still in hand and one AirPod hanging loose in his ear. Shirtless, sockless, and clearly unaware he was standing on the edge of a cliff he built with his own laziness.

“Yo,” he grinned. “You look strong today.”

“The mug is still in the sink.”

Jey blinked. “What mug?”

“The mug,” she hissed. “The one you swore you’d clean on Monday.”

He craned his neck to look at the sink like it had just appeared out of nowhere. “Damn, that one? I thought the mold was like, seasoning. Like blue cheese. Gourmet vibes.”

Her nostrils flared. “The laundry is still in the washer. It smells like wet towels and bad decisions.”

“That’s my fault,” Jey admitted quickly. “But also, mildew is natural. Builds immunity or whatever.”

“You left glitter in the fridge, Josh.”

“I swear that wasn’t me. …Okay, it might’ve been me.”

She stared at him with no emotion nor hesitation and said, “We’re done.”

He blinked. “Like… done done? Or fake done where we yell and then eat pizza?”

“Done done,” Rhea snapped, already grabbing her keys. “Don’t text me. Don’t call me. Don’t try to fix this with that dumb enchanted gum your cousin gave you last time.”

“You don’t mean that,” he said, genuinely stunned. “Babe. It’s one mug. ONE mug.”

The door slammed.

Silence settled in. Jey stood there in the living room, looking like a kicked puppy with a man bun. The TV flashed a “You Died” screen behind him. Even his Call of Duty teammates had left the party.

Barry, their dog, padded out from under the table and gave him a long, judging stare.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jey muttered. “You could’ve washed it too.”

He picked up his phone. Scrolled to Roman’s name.

Jey: she left me. gum me up.

OTC 🩸: no.

Jey: 2 fucking bad I'm omw

Jey wasn’t even trying to eavesdrop. That's a lie... every time he's in this position, he is always eavesdropping. But.. nevertheless he was just walking past catering, hoodie up, AirPods in, minding his own post-breakup business and then he heard it.

Dominik Mysterio. Talking too loud as always

“I’m just saying,” Dom said to some poor crew guy, “Rhea’s single now. I mean, I know she’s still healing and everything, but like… I could swing by her locker room with some flowers. Or those gluten-free brownies she likes. And maybe I serenade her, bro. I been practicing guitar.”

Jey stopped in his tracks. One AirPod slid out.

Serenade?

SERENADE?

No. No no no. Not again.

Dom had tried this exact mess. The night he attempted to have a Mariachi Band play Selena for HIS RHEA.

Now he was talking about gluten-free baked goods?

Jey took off running.

---

By the time he made it to Roman’s locker room, he was breathless, sweating, and borderline feral.

He slammed the door open.

“Bro I need the gum.”

Roman, halfway through doing pushups with resistance bands and chewing a mint leaf like a Bond villain, didn’t even look up.

“No.”

Jey gaped. “You don’t even know which gum I’m talkin’ about!”

Roman stood, slow and calm. “Yes I do. Because I keep them all in the safe. And the one you're thinking about the one that turns you into a fairy, which is off limits.”

“Come onnnn,” Jey whined, practically vibrating with panic. “Dom’s talkin’ about flowers and brownies and music, and you KNOW how she gets when she hears a sad boy ballad!”

“I said no.”

“Why don’t you ever help me?!”

Roman shot him a look so sharp it could slice a ring rope.

“You really wanna ask me that?” he said. “I’m only gonna name one event: The Band.”

Jey froze. His mouth opened. Closed. His eyes glazed with memory.

The Band.

Rhea’s birthday. The house party. The cheap mic that almost caught their sex sounds.

Jey, Roman, Jimmy, Solo, and Sami Zayn… forming a last-minute Bloodline band. Singing “Play That Funky Music White Boy.”

They had harmonized.

“Okay, but that don’t count,” Jey said quickly.

Roman’s eyes widened. “That don’t COUNT?! I sang funk for you!”

“Okay it was fire!” Jey said, hands raised. “That bridge section? You ATE.”

“No. No gum. You’re banned.”

“But uce—”

“I said no.”

Jey lowered his hands, lips trembling. Then, in a whisper:

“She’s gonna fall for Dom’s brownies, Uce.”

Roman blinked. Then sighed. Then walked to the wall safe.

“God, I’m gonna regret this.”

He punched in the code. 0–6–2–8–0–0 (Samoan Heritage Day). The door clicked.

Roman pulled out a tiny glittery gum case labeled in purple Sharpie:

“FAIRY FORM. Use for Emergencies Only (DO NOT LET JEY NEAR THIS).”

He tossed it at Jey.

“One chew only. Mood swings kick in after twenty minutes. Do not cry in front of production staff again.”

Jey popped the gum into his mouth and grinned as sparkles bloomed around his face.

“Time to fly.”

Jey hovered mid-air, flapping awkwardly, just outside the fourth-floor balcony of the La Quinta Inn. His wings buzzed softly with green shimmer, twitching every time he got too emotional. Which was often.

Below him, normal pedestrians walked by unaware that a grown-ass man with glitter eyebrows and a wand shaped like a miniature steel chair was crouched behind a potted plant, spying through balcony curtains.

Inside, Liv Morgan was talking to Rhea. Rhea looked… rough. Like, crying-in-a-sports-bra rough. She was wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, mascara slightly smudged, hair in a ponytail that screamed “heartbreak, but still hot.”

Jey’s heart twisted.

“I miss you, baby,” he whispered to himself, then immediately sneezed glitter. “Damn side effects…”

Inside, Rhea wiped her face and muttered something that made Liv shake her head and rub her shoulder gently. Liv said something like, “You need someone who folds laundry without being asked.”

Jey frowned. “That’s a personal attack.”

He flitted slightly to the left, wings buzzing. “Okay. Plan. Operation Sparkle Redemption.” He opened his tiny sparkly notebook (where did he even get that?) and started whispering ideas:

Bake apology brownies

Write glitter poem

Enchant Dom's guitar to only play Nickelback

Set up fireworks that spell “SORRY BABY” across the sky

Kidnap her gym bag and leave a love letter inside

He tapped the steel chair wand, which had magically transformed into a green pen, against his temple. “Or… what if I turn into like, a lil dog and a fairy? Like a fairy Yorkie?”

Thunk.

Something smacked his wing. Hard.

He yelped, spun mid-air, and saw a small rock tumbling toward the ground.

Jey glared down. Below him, outside the parking garage, stood Judgment Day in their usual dramatic cluster: all in black, all slightly over it. Dominik was holding another rock.

Dom cupped his hands and shouted up:

“WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU ALWAYS IN SOME MAGICAL SITUATION?!”

Jey shouted back, hand on hip, sparkles swirling around him like angry dust:

“Why the fuck are you always tryna steal my girl with acoustic sadboi energy?!”

Damian sighed loudly and lit a cigarette.

Finn whispered something to JD and JD nodded like they’ve had to deal with so many fairy-related problems this month alone.

Rhea and Liv looked up toward the commotion. Jey yelped and flattened himself against the balcony like a glittery gecko.

Inside, Liv blinked. “Did… did something just sparkle outside?”

Rhea rubbed her eyes. “I think I’m hallucinating again.”

Down below, Dom picked up another rock. “GET DOWN HERE AND FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN. OR A PIXIE. WHATEVER YOU ARE.”

Jey hissed like a feral glitter cat. “YOU’RE NOT EVEN IN HER LEAGUE, DOMINIK!”

Finn sighed again. “Here we go…”

The second pebble hit Jey’s thigh, he knew it was on.

“Y’all really wanna do this?” he snapped, floating ten feet above the pavement, his sparkly wings twitching with rage. He raised his wand, “I didn’t wanna go full fairy mode, but you threw rocks first!”

Dom smirked from below. “You turned into a fairy to win your ex back, bro.”

Jey aimed the wand at him like a sniper. “AND I’D DO IT AGAIN.”

Without warning, he swooped down and bonked Dom on the shoulder with the wand-chair. A shower of rainbow stars exploded on impact. Dom screamed like he got tagged by a unicorn in prison.

“AHHH! MY BONE! I THINK IT’S GLITTER-FRACTURED!"

Damian reacted fast, launching a pebble at Jey’s side. Finn followed, throwing two rapid-fire chunks of gravel like he trained for this.

Thunk. Thunk-thunk. Glitter in distress.

Jey yelped and zipped back into the air, arms flailing. “NOT THE PEBBLE FORMATION!”

JD yelled, “GET HIM!!”

Suddenly, it was a hailstorm. Rocks. Pebbles. One mini shampoo bottle.

“Y’ALL ARE PETTY!” Jey shrieked, spinning mid-air like a disco ball under attack. “I’M LITERALLY GLOWING AND Y’ALL THROWIN’ EARTH?!”

But he was outnumbered. Four to one. His wing was cramping. He was spiraling—

And then...

✨ POOF!

Jimmy Uso appeared out of thin air, wearing glitter shades and a deep v-neck crop top. His wings were golden and lopsided, but he was armed with two glowing glowsticks that pulsed like twin tasers.

“AYO GET OFF MY TWIN!” he shouted, doing a flip mid-air for no reason.

✨ POOF!

Solo showed up next with his expression blank, wings matte black, holding what looked like a magical battle club made out of enchanted Red Vines.

“Time to eat dirt,” he muttered, swinging like a baseball bat and taking out one of Finn’s pebbles mid-air.

✨ POOF!

Sami Zayn came last, wings crooked, wearing a sparkly scarf and carrying a megaphone. “FREEDOM FOR FAIRIES!” he yelled, flying straight into Damian’s shoulder and bouncing off like a ping pong ball.

Judgment Day panicked. It was full-on air combat now: sparkles flying, pebbles raining, Dom screaming, “IS THAT A FAIRY ARMY?!”

And then… the wind changed.

It got heavy.

It got serious.

A shadow fell over the parking lot.

The clouds parted like they were afraid.

And through the blinding sun came a deep, chest-shaking voice:

“ENOUGH.”

Everyone froze mid-flight.

And then he descended.

Roman Reigns.

Not just a fairy.

THE Fairy.

Tank-sized wings of gold and obsidian. Beard braided with pure moonlight. Muscles glistening with enchanted sweat. A sash that read Fairy Commander. A giant wand the size of a full sledgehammer strapped to his back.

He landed with a boom. The pavement cracked.

“Y’all embarrassing the fairy realm,” he growled. “Throwing rocks? In the airspace? Using magic without permits?”

Dom whimpered. “He started it.”

Jey pointed dramatically. “He tried to steal my girl with baked goods!”

Roman ignored both. “We do not fight over muffins and crushes. We fight for honor. For glory. For THE SPARKLE CODE.”

Everyone stood silent. Judgment Day held their pebbles like children caught with contraband.

Jey fluttered to the ground, eyes big. “Does this mean I can still win her back?”

Roman stared at him. Long. Stern.

“…Make it good, Fairy Uso.”

“You know she’s never gonna take you back,” Dominik huffed, brushing glitter off his shirt like it was fleas. “You left a moldy mug in the sink, bro. A MUG. With mold.”

He turned on his heel, sprinting toward the hotel’s automatic doors like a man on a mission. “I’m gonna go be emotionally available now!”

“OH NO YOU DON’T,” Jey shouted, flapping his glitter-dusted wings and launching into the air.

He soared, locked in, eyes narrowed. The wind rushed past his face. His wand gleamed in the sunlight.

He zeroed in on the hotel entrance.

Target: Acquired.

Judgment: Imminent.

…SLIDING DOORS: Not Magic-Activated.

BONK.

The impact echoed like a rubber mallet against a dry skull. Jey smacked full-speed into the glass door, wings flattening like paper fans, sparkles bursting from his shoulders like sad fireworks.

He slid down slowly, face smushed against the glass, leaving a faint glitter streak behind.

Inside the lobby, a kid eating a complimentary waffle screamed.

Jey groaned from the sidewalk. “Dom… you asshole.”

From behind the front desk, the La Quinta receptionist sighed. “Not again…”

---

Dom was grinning ear to ear as he strutted down the hallway of the fifth floor, cradling his tiny ukulele like it was an extension of his soul.

His curls were extra fluffed. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to say “I feel things.” And the song choice? Iconic. A classic. Romantic. Safe. Rhea couldn’t resist Elvis, and he knew it.

He stopped in front of Room 418, adjusted his necklace, and knocked twice.

The door opened halfway.

Liv Morgan peeked through, brow arched. “Oh no.”

Dom’s grin widened. “Tell her it’s for her.”

Liv didn’t even fight it. She just turned her head and deadpanned, “Rhea. It’s for you.”

A moment later, Rhea appeared behind her, hoodie on, face tired, eyes suspicious.

Dom strummed once.

Then, with a breath, he began:

🎶 “Wise men say…

Only fools rush in…” 🎶

Rhea blinked, stunned. Liv slowly stepped back into the room like she was leaving a crime scene.

🎶 “But I… can’t help…

Falling in lo—” 🎶

CRASH.

Like a sparkly missile from the heavens, Jey tackled Dom straight into the hallway wall mid-chorus.

The ukulele let out one last sad twang before shattering on impact.

They hit the floor hard with Dom screaming, Jey yelling, fairy wings flapping like crazy.

“YOU TRIED TO SERENADE MY WOMAN?!” Jey roared, straddling Dom’s chest, glitter flying off his hair like rage confetti.

Dom flailed, covered in glitter and drywall dust. “YOU HIT ME DURING THE BRIDGE!”

Rhea’s jaw dropped.

Liv gasped, “Jey… are you wearing eyeshadow?!”

Jey looked up, breathing hard. “It’s water-activated pigment shimmer, thank you.”

Dom shrieked, “HE FLEW THROUGH A WINDOW LIKE A BEDAZZLED PIGEON!”

“I FLEW THROUGH PAIN, DOMINIK,” Jey snapped.

Rhea rubbed her temples. “I can’t believe this is my life.”

The hallway was silent now, aside from Dom groaning in the corner like he got hit by Cupid with a steel chair.

Rhea grabbed Jey by the back of his glitter-dusted hoodie and yanked him up, dragging him into the hotel room like a bouncer hauling out a drunk VIP.

She shut the door behind them with a heavy thud.

Jey stood in the middle of the room, breathing hard, wand still in hand, sparkles clinging to his skin like stubborn glitter herpes.

Rhea crossed her arms.

“Okay,” she said, voice flat. “Why… are you a fairy?”

Jey blinked.

“Well—see—I overheard Dom say he was gonna bring you gluten-free brownies and serenade you, and obviously I couldn’t just let that happen, so I went to Roman and I may have asked for the gum.”

Rhea just stared.

Jey shifted on his sparkly Crocs. “The fairy gum.”

She blinked again.

He tried to smile. “Y’know. Romantic gesture.”

Rhea’s voice hit a new octave. “You turned into a fairy… because you thought it would be romantic?”

Jey nodded slowly, wings twitching. “Like, Cosmo from Fairly Oddparenrs but sexy. With emotional depth.”

Rhea slapped her forehead. “We broke up four hours ago, Josh. Four. And in that time, you turned yourself into a flying glitter disaster and assaulted Dominik mid-Elvis cover!”

Jey pointed a glittery finger. “Okay, first of all—he was butchering it. Second of all… I wasn’t the only one.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

He tilted his head toward the balcony window.

Rhea turned.

And there, just hovering like budget Marvel heroes were Jimmy, Solo, and Sami, all with various degrees of fairy wings, enchanted accessories, and dumb grins.

Sami was holding a glittery poster board that read “#TeamJey 💘”

Jimmy threw up deuces. “Aye Rhea!”

Solo just nodded once, sipping from a Capri Sun. His wings barely fluttered.

Rhea blinked. “You dragged all of them into this?!”

“I didn’t!” Jey shouted. “They volunteered! Well… except Roman. He showed up as, like… a Final Boss.”

Rhea walked to the couch and sat down in absolute silence.

She put her head in her hands.

And finally muttered: “You’re lucky you’re cute."

Jey stood awkwardly across from her, glitter shimmering on his cheeks like remorseful highlighter. His wings fluttered a little whenever he felt nervous .. which, in this moment, was a lot.

She finally looked up, eyes sharp.

“Sit.”

He obeyed instantly, wand across his lap like a punished schoolboy.

“Jey,” she said slowly. “I didn’t mean to break up with you.”

His head jerked up. “Wait, you didn’t?! Then why’d you—”

“I was angry, Josh. I needed you to understand that when I ask you to do something, I mean it. I don’t want to nag you. I don’t want to fight with you. But I’m not your mom. I shouldn’t have to ask three times to wash a mug.”

He opened his mouth to protest but shut it when he saw her expression.

“I wasn’t trying to end things,” she went on, softer now. “I just wanted you to see I wasn’t playing. I need a partner, not another person I have to clean up after.”

Jey looked down at the wand. “I thought if I did something big… it’d show you I care.”

“Big isn’t always better,” Rhea said. “Sometimes I just want help with the laundry.”

“…What if I enchanted the washing machine so it talks to you?”

She gave him a look. He winced.

“Okay. Not the time.”

She reached out and flicked a speck of glitter off his nose. “You know you’re still covered in sparkles, right?”

“I think they’re inside me now.”

Rhea exhaled a slow laugh, then leaned in and touched his cheek gently.

“I love you, fairy glitter mess and all. But if you wanna keep this relationship alive, you're gonna have to fight harder for chores than you do for serenade showdowns.”

Jey nodded solemnly.

“Starting tomorrow,” she added. “You’re scrubbing the fridge.”

His face paled. “Even the… vegetable drawer?”

“Especially the vegetable drawer.”