I can’t explain the feeling of ghostbur being mentioned again in canon but I have never felt more pain. Since his death, everyone has just kind of moved on. But c!wilbur wanted to apologize to friend for him because ghostbur was still his own person and he was still hurt when c!wilbur was revived, even if they are technically the same person.
He trying to finally reunite friend with ghostbur, even if he can’t bring him back.
Summary: The popular girl mingling with the school’s freak should have been outrageous. Yet you chose him as a quick escape from reality because he seemed to be the only person able to give you what you needed. You had no idea that the escape he offered you would turn into something so much more complicated.
Warnings: Smut, Unprotected Sex, drugs, feels, lots of words
A/N: Okay this author’s note is a little longer but please take the time to read it! When I started this I just wanted to write a small smut fic but Eddie somehow started to have a life on his own and wanted to get feelings and character development in here. I know that 15k words is very intimidating, especially for people like me with a short attention span. Here on Tumblr, you have the whole fic in one go. The chapters are seperated with bold and italic lyric parts so you can just read one part and take a break if necessary. For more reading comfort I would recommend you to check the AO3 link above, I seperated this into actual chapters on there cuz it’s easier to do than here on Tumblr. Enjoy!
Everybody wants to know If we fucked on the bathroom sink How your hands felt in my hair If we were high on amphetamines
“Fuck,” you moaned and the fist in his long hair got even tighter.
He didn’t seem to mind at all.
You had no idea how you ended up here. You were supposed to cheer on the basketball team with your friends, support the cheerleading squad because your best friend was currently a member there.
It was supposed to be a fun night.
And yet you were here in the men’s bathroom furthest away from the gym and the game.
People say enemies to lovers is good because it’s nice to think about someone falling in love with you after seeing you at your worst, also there’s the idea of becoming a better person for the one you love, and I do love that, but—have you ever had a good friend?
A friend sees you with all your flaws and qualities. Falling in love with a friend means you know them, you know them in all their little idiosyncrasies and tics, you have argued for the dumbest things because you were both tired and grumpy, but also for the big things, screams and words that cut deep because that person knows you and loves you and can cut you deeper than a stranger… you know them and you have shared so many moments together, big and small, and somehow you have changed for them.
Your heart has always had a little space for them, but now it’s different: you have shaped your heart around them, and, what a lovely surprise, they have done the same. The vulnerability that comes from falling in love with a friend is terrifying and beautiful. Who has chosen you time and time again, despite your failings and off days, who can know what you have to offer, who loves you without caring about who gives or takes if not a friend? There is so much selfless love in friendship.
The house was rarely empty – Pheobe stood in the golden light spilling through the windows and smiled faintly. The house was empty and silent, warm and expansive. There was nothing but tranquillity and so she had to break it. Just a little. Silk and chiffon skirt hissing, she sashayed to the covered piano and pulled the lid up, letting her elegant fingers trail a tinkling journey across the keys. It was wonderful to hear them ring out into perfect silence. Like the illicit pleasure of being the first to leave a footprint in fresh snow.
Or leaving lipstick on perfect white linen.
Rolling her soft shoulder, Pheobe played out a simple jingle. Upbeat and sparkling, it was the kind of thing she and Constantin had played, or had others play, at parties. Not the formal compositions of the court. Something with a little more life. Then, as if on their own volition, her hands slowed and started to play a smooth, staggering love song. She couldn’t remember the story that went with it. Something terribly tragic, she supposed, where the princess loves the guard captain and he’s sentenced to death by a jealous prince. Or where the serving girl gives up her life for the king who doesn’t even know her name.
There were a million love songs on the continent, and few of them were happy. But the music was sweet, and for all she was a grown woman, she felt a girlish thrill when she played them. Something about the music and her body at the piano felt like elegance – as if her hands were saying ‘gosh, aren’t we sophisticated’ with every note. She stopped and giggled, shaking her head in a way that sent blonde tresses tumbling around her shoulders.
“You play well.”
The voice was so unexpected that, for a moment, she had no concept of who it could belong to. Pheobe whirled, heart hammering in her throat, and then sighed,
“Captain Vasco, do you simply walk into the private domiciles of all the women you know, or am I the only person to have that dubious honour?” The words were undermine by the quiver in her voice. Vasco simply smiled and bowed, removing his hat. The tan skin of his face was a little red… sunburn, or perhaps something more immediate in nature.
“I did knock, lady, but you were too engrossed to hear me.”
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t have entered,” she snapped, body humming with the acute mortification that only comes when someone is caught unaware. Vasco nodded and turned without speaking, “wait! No, I… I’m sorry Vasco, come in.” She stood and pushed the stool under the piano, “I was just shocked, how are you?”
“No, you’re right. Truth be told, I heard the music and I was curious. I didn’t know you could play… certainly not so well,” he said, almost with a wistful air, “I love music.” Pheobe tilted her head, awed by the vulnerability in his face,
“Would you like me to teach you how to play a song?” She asked, voice firm but soft. Vasco’s eyes widened, then a grin spread across his face slowly but surely,
“I would. Very much,” he curled his tongue around the words almost hesitantly, as if tasting them. As if it was too good to be true. But when she extended her hand to him, he took it without waiting only to blush when he realized she had been about to beckon him. The laughter that spilled out between them broke the tension and brought the world back into line with itself. “I would like that, De Sardet,” he said, “very much so.”
“Then come over here,” Pheobe said turning away before she added, “after you take off those filthy boots.”
This is so incredibly sweet and vdbshxhzhvzhxvzgzhsvshachzjaj
I simply love how Pheobe is so arrogant and huffy and at the same time so fuzzy inside ahahahahahaha and how she is all alone once again, since it’s almost always the case. You wrote it so well ;w; I am in aweeeeee
And Vasco being just a soft boi uwu She gonna teach him how to play the pianoooooo maybe they would even sing together vsvsgsczhvzhsvajja the imagination!! I simply love it, thank you soooo sooooo much, it’s so utterly precious and lovely, I feel so touched aaahhhhh ♥️♥️♥️♥️
