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officialaemondtargaryen · 2 years

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#130 and/or #147 if you're still taking Eddie requests this weekend? After that season finale I just need to read something heart achingly sweet and tender in a declaring his love for the first time type situation. I was really caught off guard by how much I ended up loving his character. Thank you!!!

Prompts: (30) "I'll keep you safe" and (147) "Tell me again"

Characters: Eddie Munson x Fem!Henderson!Reader

Word Count: 8,712

Warnings: Spoilers for Vol. 1 of season 4 if you have not watched it yet (what are you even doing here?) though some things don’t 100% match up with the show. There’s some cursing, a lot of pining, and it is kind of angsty.

A/N: First, just thank you for this request because I truly enjoyed writing this for you. Second, I hope you love it. Third, buckle up because it's a long one. Fourth, check out the songs that were on repeat while writing this below!

Playlist: 1, 2, 3, 4

You never meant to get caught up in all of this.

But Dustin- he was your brother, after all. You had his back no matter what, through thick and thin; bullies, forgotten lunch money, a ride to and from the arcade. Whatever Dustin needed, you were there. Including when he, and all of his friends, came to you for help with a problem of the other-worldly variety.

You had your suspicions for a while that Dustin and his friends were up to no good, but you just assumed it was a very elaborate D&D campaign. You definitely didn't expect your sweet, intelligent, little brother to tell you that he had found an interdimensional species of slug that turned into a monster and ate your mother's cat and was now on the loose.

But when he did, you did what any big sister would do.

You had his back.

Still, there was always a feeling in the pit of your stomach- the waiting for the other shoe to drop when things began to feel normal again. Yet, despite everything that you and your friends had been through since then, there was a collective hopefulness that maybe- just this once- things would get better.

You had met Eddie Munson about six months ago when Dustin asked you to come and watch one of the Hellfire Club's campaigns. The eccentric Dungeon Master gave him shit for inviting his big sister along and made sure to point out that there was a very strict 'no spectators allowed' rule.

"Relax, who do you think even taught this loser how to play in the first place? I'm only here to make sure my little brother isn't getting clowned by some posers who aren't deserving of his skills."

Your friendship was pretty set in stone from that moment on, and the two of you grew incredibly close incredibly fast. The relationship that you had with Eddie was special. It was normal, grounding, and you cherished him for being able to make you forget about all the dark shit you had been through that you longed to forget about. Which, inevitably, led you to spend what was probably way too much time with him.

There was so much that you couldn't tell him, and he knew that you weren't being completely open; and in true Eddie fashion, he was a little too open to compensate for it. When he'd wake you out of a nightmare or notice you flinching when he made a sudden movement, or maybe you were zoning out again, he couldn't help but wonder what it was that you were keeping to yourself.

The rules of the party forbid you to tell anyone, it was pretty much the number one and most important rule- which was broken, quite often, depending on the circumstances. So you don't tell him. You can't. He would never believe you, anyways. He'd think you had just gotten too high again and were trying to give him ideas for a new campaign. But that was okay because Eddie didn't need to know. He was so incredibly innocent and sweet and you knew that if you brought him into that kind of world, it would only cast a shadow on the light that was him.

That wasn't the only thing you were holding back from him, though.

You remembered the exact moment that you fell in love with Eddie Munson. You remember the realization of your discovery hitting you like a tidal wave as if it were just yesterday; sitting on his bed, legs crossed underneath you, shuffling through an old milk crate of records to find something to put on. That was your typical day after school; Eddie would take you back to his trailer, he'd make something quick for you both to eat- because God knows the Hawkins High cafeteria food was not worth eating, you'd help him with his homework, and he'd get you super high.

As you thumbed through record after record, and cassette tape after cassette tape- countless metal bands, some of which you had never heard of- something caught your attention. Your brows furrowed together as Eddie's soft voice carried through the trailer and you leaned over to glance down the hallway. He was in the kitchen, making boxed macaroni and cheese and quietly humming the words to your favorite song.

The moment you saw him rounding the corner down the hallway with two bowls in hand, you snapped back to your place on his bed, pretending you had never taken your attention off of his records. The smile on your face, however, gave you away instantly.

"What's got you smilin'?" He asked, proudly handing you the top-tier mid-afternoon snack he had just whipped up.

You shook your head, "I thought you hated Journey?" You questioned nonchalantly with a shrug of your shoulders. "You said they weren't real rock n' roll."

He rolled his eyes and tilted his head to the side before shoving a forkful of macaroni in his mouth. "Yeah, well," he said while chewing. "You like them."

You weren't sure why you had never noticed it before, but when you looked at him in that moment with his hair pulled back in a low bun, sunlight streaming through half-closed blinds casting a pale, peach glow across his soft features and illuminating the silver chain around his neck, it was as clear as ever: you were in love with him. The feeling terrified you, so much so that, not only did you immediately get up and leave his trailer that day, but you didn’t see or speak to him for two whole weeks; coming up with every excuse in the book to avoid him.

The problem was that you were, well, you. You were t-shirts and ripped jeans that were a little too long, unkempt hair, and a snarky attitude. You were the best friend, not the girlfriend, and you didn’t want whatever feelings that were blooming in the pit of your stomach to ruin what was the best friendship that you had ever known. So avoiding Eddie Munson like the fucking plague was the best idea that you had until those feelings began to subside.

Only they didn’t. They grew and grew until it felt like you were drowning every time you were around him. And that was a real problem, because Eddie only liked girls that were way out of his league; girls that didn’t want boxed macaroni and cheese or would scrunch up their noses in disgust at the sight of his mattress. He liked short skirts and girls who wore make-up. And the pain you felt every time he smirked or batted his big, beautiful eyes in a cheerleader’s direction was going to be the death of you, that you knew.

"Have you talked to Eddie today?" Dustin asked you after throwing open your bedroom door without even bothering to knock. Max was standing closely behind him in the hallway outside of your room. You knew them both well enough to know that the looks on their faces were anything but good.

"No, why?" You asked.

It was pretty early on the first day of Spring Break, so it wasn't surprising that Eddie hadn't called or been by your house. He was probably sleeping in. Dustin didn't say anything else, he immediately turned on his heel and started marching towards the front door with Max in tow, spewing off nonsense that you couldn't quite comprehend.

"Dustin," you said sternly, having no choice but to follow them. "What's going on?"

"I'll explain on the way," he replied and tossed the car keys towards you. "Let's go!"

Your mind was swimming as Dustin mouthed off all of the possible scenarios that would put Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie in the same vicinity. He kept prodding you with questions being that you knew him better than anyone; about his love life, did he have any other family, where would he go if he needed to get away? But your mind was scrambled, a thousand thoughts firing all at once- all you could say was, "I don't know".

Robin and Steve weren't too thrilled to see the three of you. From past experience, more than three party members busting through the doors of their workplace usually spelled trouble. Dustin immediately went to work on getting a list of the phone numbers of all of the people that he knew who knew Eddie. Max filled Robin and Steve in on the newest mission. And you, well, you sat on a step stool behind the counter and tried not to have a panic attack- or vomit, either one.

This was your best friend and now the number one suspect in a murder investigation. You knew how to handle monsters but you weren't quite sure how to get a grip on what exactly was happening. One thing was certain, to at least you and Dustin- Eddie was completely innocent. Steve mentioned that you should get the cops involved, but getting the cops involved- having Max as the last person besides Eddie to see Chrissy alive, and witnessing Eddie fleeing the scene of the crime meant certain doom for your best friend.

"We're not calling the cops, Steve." you seethed as you stood up from the step stool; your face red from rubbing your hands over your cheeks and eyes to keep yourself from crying. Everyone collectively stopped talking and looked at you. "I know where Rick lives, it's out by Lover's Lake. He's currently locked up, but he trusts Eddie so he would watch the house for him, or whatever. He would take me out there with him sometimes."

Eddie had been hiding for almost twenty-four hours. He hadn't slept, he was on edge, terrified that even breathing too heavy meant that someone was going to find him. And when he jumped out from underneath that tarp with a broken beer bottle and held it to Steve's neck, you saw the fear in his eyes. But when he looked around that dingy room and his eyes met yours, you could also see that weight being lifted off of his chest.

There you were.

He released his grip on Steve and you stepped forward, pulling Eddie into your arms and down to the floor, cradling him. He was so visibly shaken that it made your heart sink. His lips quivered as he took in his surroundings. Just moments ago, he was scared for his life and hiding under a tarp, and now he was surrounded by a bunch of people that he barely knew, still scared for his life, but now you were there and to him, that was enough.

You silently rubbed circles into Eddie's back as he recounted the events of the night before. You stayed quiet at his side as Dustin tried to explain the history of madness that seemed to loom over your small town. Eddie looked at you every so often, trying to verify if what your little brother was saying was the truth, and you'd slightly nod; knowing that you'd have your chance to further explain later.

Once the others left, it was just you and Eddie. You had been alone with him before, countless times, but this time it was different. This time, it was Eddie who was looking to you to keep him safe, instead of the other way around. You paced the floor of the boathouse, looking for supplies, things that could be made into weapons, anything useful. You were able to find a couple of flashlights, a small heater, a can of gasoline, a hammer, and a boathook; not to mention Steve's oar, which could definitely be used to knock someone out, if needed. Eddie sat on the ground in the same spot he had been for the last hour and a half. His arms were wrapped around his legs and he was rocking slightly back and forth as he fidgeted with the rings on his hands. You opened the small fridge that Rick used to store extra beer and pulled a couple of cold bottles out, handing one to your friend.

"So you've dealt with this kind of thing before?" He asked before twisting off the bottle's cap and taking a swig. It seemingly seemed to calm his nerves momentarily.

You sat opposite him, in front of him so that he could see your face- and see your truth- when you told him. You started at the very beginning, with Will and Hawkins Lab. You told him about everything; Eleven's powers, when Dustin came to you about Dart, the Russians at Starcourt Mall, Billy Hargrove, how half of the town had been possessed and didn't really die in a mall fire. He watched as you recounted your memories, brown eyes filled with concern as you described the things you had seen. A silence fell over you once you had finished, your eyes glued to the rickety floorboards of the boathouse as you waited for his response.

"I promise you that whatever this is, Dustin- he'll figure it out. He somehow always does." You said quietly. “In the meantime, I’ll keep you safe.”

"I trust you," he said and shifted his body so that he was sitting next to you. "You have no idea how- how relieved I was to see you."

You looked up at him, his dark eyes gazing softly down at you through thick lashes, and hoped that he couldn’t hear the thundering sound of your heart pounding in your chest. You wanted to say something, but all of the words were getting stuck in the back of your throat and your mouth had become dry. So you gave him a small smile and took another sip of your beer, ignoring the feeling of false hope bubbling in your chest. The last thing you needed was to half convince yourself that Eddie’s words were any indication that he might have felt the same way. He had just been through a trauma, and he was happy to have his friend by his side, that was all.

The flash of headlights passed over the ceiling of the boathouse and disappeared just as quickly. Eddie tore his eyes away from yours, anxiously looking around the dark space. You placed a hand on his thigh to level his nerves. “Hey, it’s okay,” you whispered. “You picked a pretty good hiding spot.” Your soft words seemed to work and he let out a deep sigh, leaning his body into yours and resting his head on your shoulder. "Get some sleep, okay?" You told him and felt him nod against your shoulder. "Tomorrow is a different day."

"Hey," he whispered after a few moments of silence. "Please don't leave."

"Wouldn’t dream of it."

The next morning, you were still in the same place- ass sore, legs numb, but you wouldn't have moved from that spot if someone had paid you a million dollars to do it. You were at least thankful that you were able to reach your novel out of your bag without waking the shaggy-haired boy currently using your shoulder as a pillow. He stirred softly before lifting his head and croaking out a, "good morning." It was almost nine o'clock, the sun was shining out over the lake, and you were sure that it wouldn't be long before you heard Dustin over the walkie. Eddie fingered the crust out of his eyes and looked out to the lake. You couldn't see it, but you knew that the reflection of the sun on the water was dancing across those beautiful brown eyes of his.

"D'you sleep at all?" He asked, turning his attention back to you. You shook your head and his brows pulled together, forehead wrinkling beneath his tousled bangs. "You stayed up all night?"

"My dear, Edward, I had to make sure that someone didn’t come to take you in the night.”

"Still," he replied with a small smile, crossing his legs underneath him before standing up.

"I’ll be okay,” you replied with a shrug.

He was standing at the edge of the boathouse, staring out at the water; a gentle breeze lightly picked up the ends of his hair. You heard a small sigh escape his lips. “Do you remember when we used to come out here?” He asked, glancing back at you with lips turned up at the corners in the sweetest little smile. You stood to your feet and stretched your arms over your head before joining him at his side. “We’d stay up for hours just watching the way the wind blew over the water.”

Once again, that pesky feeling began to creep into your chest. You cleared your throat, “we should probably figure out where Dustin is.” Eddie’s smile faltered just slightly before he nodded his head.

Almost on queue, your brother, followed by Max, Robin, and Steve flew through the boathouse door, holding bags of snacks and drinks. You and Eddie both jumped back from each other and you heard Eddie mumble something about there being beer, but being that you were the only one with a fake ID, you knew there wouldn't be any. Instead, in true Dustin Henderson fashion, there was Yoo-hoo and a hearty variety of sugary and savory snacks.

However, as great as the snacks he brought were, your brother didn’t bring the best of news. The police were looking for Eddie. He was their number one suspect, but they hadn't released his name to the public, yet. A silver lining. Yet, it was only a matter of time before they found him, and the timetable was quickly moving up.

That same day there was another murder; another student from Hawkins High.

It was too close to the boathouse for your liking, so you all agreed that Eddie would be safer elsewhere. And for the first time in months, Steve’s parents were actually home and not on some kind of cruise or business trip. Robin’s mother worked from home, so that was a no-go. And, well, Max lived in the trailer park, so that left the Henderson residence- which, if you were being honest, it should have never been a debate in the first place. Eddie was always welcome at your house. Your mother loved him, but you knew that she probably wouldn’t love the idea of harboring a fugitive. That was okay, though, because you had snuck him into your bedroom at least a dozen times on the nights that you couldn’t sleep and she was none the wiser.

So you all split up; Dustin and the rest of the group heading off with Nancy to follow some leads to see if they could find a connection to the murders, and you with Eddie. In the past you had usually found yourself right in the thick of whatever plan the Party had come up with, doing whatever you needed to do to save your brother and your friends, but Dustin wasn’t a kid anymore- none of you were. A part of you was thankful that you weren't going head-to-toe with about a thousand, razor sharp teeth and four-inch-long claws. You couldn’t help but worry about your little brother, though, whenever the two of you were separated, no matter how much you trusted Steve to keep him safe.

“He’ll be okay,” Eddie whispered, nudging you with his elbow.

You made Eddie ride in the trunk back to your house. Hawkins was a small town, and the drive from Rick’s to your place went straight through downtown- no way were you going to risk him being seen. Your mother’s car was in the driveway and the faint glow of the television illuminated the living room with a blue hue. Eddie snuck around the back of your house to your bedroom window where you’d meet him inside, it was dark, so you weren’t too worried about your neighbors seeing him. You went in through the front door, making small talk with your mom. You made some excuse about being tired before heading down the hallway to your room. She called after you, letting you know she was going to bed and reminded you of the leftovers in the fridge.

Eddie was already sitting on your bed by the time you opened your bedroom door. He opened his mouth to say something, but you held your finger up to your lips. Seconds later, you could hear your mother’s footsteps passing by your door to her own room at the end of the hall.

“Give it ten minutes and she’ll be snoring so loud you can hear it from outside.” You whispered faintly. Eddie smiled. “Did you want to take a shower?” He nodded his head. “Okay, I’ll go get the water started for you and heat you up some lasagna while you’re in there.”

He held two thumbs up in agreement and you quietly snuck out of your room to the bathroom across the hall. Your mother liked everything pink; much to you and Dustin’s disdain. The towels were pink, the washcloths, the fluffy toilet seat cover, the rug, the walls, the soap, everything. You draped one of those towels over the rack next to the shower and turned on the hot water, a cloud of thick steam rising in the air. You tiptoed over to your mother’s door and pressed your ear to the cool wood. She was snoring, perfect.

“She’s out,” you said a little louder than a whisper when you entered back into your room. “Hot water’s going for you. I think I have-” you tapped your index finger on your lips as you stepped over to your dresser, digging through the bottom drawer to pull out one of Eddie’s t-shirts and a pair of your dad’s old sweatpants. “Here we go.”

You tossed the clothes over to Eddie. “I’ve been looking for this shirt.”

“Sorry about that,” you couldn’t help but blush. “I was meaning to get it back to you.” That was a lie.

“Thanks, Y/N,” He said, standing up and taking a few long strides to where you were standing by the door. He was so close you could smell the lingering scent of cigarettes and cheap cologne. “I really appreciate this.”

You nodded and swallowed the knot in your throat, “of course, Eddie. You don’t have to thank me. I’d do anything for you, you know that.”

“Yeah,” he replied with a smile with his hand on the doorknob. “Yeah, I do.”

He turned the knob and disappeared out of your room and into the bathroom. You let out the breath that you didn’t know you were holding, and it took a few moments to collect yourself before you slipped into the kitchen to heat up a heaping plate of lasagna; making sure to pull it out of the microwave before the timer went off. Eddie stalked into the kitchen shortly after, and you almost laughed at the sight of his head wrapped in a fluffy, pink towel. He stuck his tongue out at you before taking his seat at the kitchen table. It didn’t take long before he had scarfed down all of the pasta on his plate, whispering in between bites how great of a cook your mother was and how thankful he was for you.

After you had washed the plate and glass that he had used, you returned to your bedroom where Eddie had made himself a small pallet on the floor out of spare blankets and throw pillows.

“What are you doing?” You asked and he looked up at you in confusion.

“Sleeping on the floor?” He answered in a question, because it had been what he had always done.

You shook your head, “I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

“But-” He stammered, almost as if he was nervous, as he motioned to your twin size bed.

“Just get in the bed, Munson.” You chuckled.

“Y-yes ma’am.” Eddie situated himself behind you, stiff in his movements, not wanting to make the wrong move. There truly wasn’t enough room for his lengthy limbs. “Uh- is- is this okay?” He asked and draped his arm around your middle.

You prayed he couldn’t hear your heart; it was beating so hard and fast that it felt as if it was about to burst out of your chest. His body was so warm pressed against yours, and he was completely pressed against you in your tiny bed. Thankfully your back was to him or you’d be instantly given away by the red hot blush on your cheeks. All you could do was nod your head in reply to him, afraid that if you spoke you’d end up confessing your love to him when all you wanted to say was, “of course”.

Despite your close friendship with him, you’d never physically been this close to him- aside from piggyback rides or hugs. Even if it was only due to the current circumstances, you relished in the feeling of being in Eddie’s arms. Soft, warm breaths fanned over the back of your neck as he nodded off, pulling you closer as he shifted in his sleep.

The next morning, you woke up with your head on his chest and a leg draped over his; he still held you flush against him. You were awakened by the sound of the front door closing, signaling your mother had left for work. Pale yellow morning sunlight illuminated your bedroom, casting lines and shadows along your walls. You moved slightly and Eddie was stirring awake, a small groan bubbled up from his throat as he stretched his legs. He looked down at you through his lashes and smiled softly. You could kiss him, God knows you wanted to; with his frizzy hair and half-lit eyes and that stupid grin on his face that you loved so much.

“Good morning.” His voice was a whisper.

“Mornin’,” you smiled back.

“That was probably the best night’s sleep I have had in a while.”

“The bed wasn’t too small?” You asked and he shook his head. “Better than sleeping on the floor?”

“Definitely better than sleeping on the floor. I can’t even believe that you would try and suggest that last night. Haven’t I been through enough?” He joked and you scoffed at him, elbowing him in the side. “I motion for sharing the bed every time.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from smiling so big your cheeks would probably split and hoped that you weren’t being completely obvious. “You want some breakfast?”

“Mm, yes please.” He replied, turning his face into your pillow.

You got up and stretched before heading out into the kitchen. “Let’s see,” you hummed as you rummaged through the cabinets. “I’ve got pancakes, eggs, some sausage, and- cereal.” You called back to him. “Oh, there’s poptarts, too.”

“Are there chocolate chips?” He asked, coming into the kitchen.

“There are!” You replied pulling out a ZipLoc bag full.

“I’ll take chocolate chip pancakes,” he sounded just like a little kid as he propped himself up on the counter. “Can I help put the chips in?”

Eddie, who really only knew how to make things that only required stirring it a few times, was enamored by you cooking breakfast. He watched, with saucer-sized eyes as you measured out your ingredients and whisked everything together. Every so often he’d ask what you were doing next or how you learned how to cook between popping chocolate chips in his mouth. As promised, you let him sprinkle the chocolate chips into the pancakes once you got a few into the pan. He carefully placed the chocolate morsels into the batter in the shape of a smiley face, or a heart, or a star. You even let him try his hand at flipping one, which he, sort of, miserably failed at given that the pancake landed on the floor.

You spent most of the day playing board games, Go-Fish, and watching movies. You hadn't meant to turn on the news, in fact, you had been avoiding it at all costs for Eddie's sake- but after you had finished one of your movies, you accidentally switched it over to the cable; on the TV, Chief Powell and Officer Callaghan. There had been another murder. Another student from Hawkins. And to make matters worse, it was Jason Carver's best friend Patrick McKinney.

And that was when you heard tires pull into your driveway. It was much too early for your mother to be home, plus she had her book club after work today. You glanced over at Eddie whose brows were also pulled together in confusion and stepped over to the window, pulling the curtain slightly to see a black Jeep Cherokee and three boys inside, one of them you recognized to be Lucas Sinclair. Immediately your eyes checked to make sure your front door was locked, you wouldn’t put it past Jason Carver in his grief to break into someone’s home looking for the boy that he believes killed his girlfriend and now his best friend Patrick.

“It’s Jason,” you whispered.

“Shit.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “In my mom’s room, in her closet, there’s a pull down staircase to the attic. If someone even thinks about stepping foot in this house I’ve got my dad’s gun and I am not afraid to use it.” You could feel him eyeing you in surprise. “Go.”

Eddie disappeared down the hallway just as you instructed and you double checked the locks on the back door, as well, as you noticed one of Jason’s goons peeling off towards the side of the house. A fist began pounding on the front door and the doorbell rang close to fifty times. Jason, on the other side of the door, taunting you- yelling that he knew you were home and he just wanted to talk.

You had worked for Mr. and Mrs. Carver for a few summers back, helping them with the store that they owned downtown. You might have even called Jason a friend at one point. Before he became popular, he was a nerd like the rest of you. But he had turned into this person that you no longer recognized once he became captain of the basketball team and when he began dating Chrissy Cunningham.

You stepped back into the hallway, out of sight from the windows but nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a loud thud coming from Dustin’s room.

“Y/N?” You heard and immediately knew it was Lucas.

“Lucas, what the hell!” You exclaimed in a whisper so that the other boys wouldn’t hear.

“Is Eddie here? Is he safe?” He asked.

You looked at him, apprehensive at first, but you knew that Lucas was loyal to the Party. “Yes he’s here and I’m trying my hardest to keep him safe but-” you motioned to the front door. “What are you doing here!?”

“These guys are serious,” he replied. “They’re not going to stop until they find him.”

“You’ve got to do something Lucas, tell them you found something- something that would lead you to believe that Dustin and Eddie are hiding out at Hopper’s old cabin. It’s abandoned, the perfect place to hide.” Lucas nodded and moved to crawl back out of the window. “And Lucas,” you added. “The second that you get the chance to get away from these guys- last I heard everyone was headed to the school, you might want to get there as soon as you can.”

With that, Lucas disappeared out of Dustin’s window.

It wasn’t long after that you heard the sound of Jason’s Jeep peeling out of your driveway.

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief; you weren’t afraid of them, but more so afraid of what would have happened if they would have tried to hurt you or Eddie. You were, at least, thankful that you had a little bit more time on your hands with Lucas leading them in the opposite direction and distracting them for just a little while longer. Hopefully, your brother and the rest of the Party had made some headway on the leads that they were following.

Eddie was sitting with his legs crossed beneath him, an old scrapbook filled with baby pictures of you and Dustin in his lap. He looked up at you, relieved to see your face and not Jason’s.

He held up the book to you, “Sorry,” he muttered. “I was trying to be as quiet as possible and needed something to keep myself from becoming an absolute nervous wreck. You were a cute kid.”

You laughed through your nose, “Am I not cute now?”

“What? No. I mean- yes!” His face was becoming red as he stammered. “I wasn’t insinuating that you aren’t cute now, just that you were a cute kid. You’re definitely cute now.” You couldn’t help but smile. “Anyways,” he rolled his eyes. “We all clear?”

“Yeah,” you replied and motioned for him to follow you back downstairs. “Lucas is leading them astray, so hopefully that will buy us some more time.”

“Sinclair?”

You nodded, “He was with them, which is surprising, but Lucas is one of Dustin’s oldest friends. I used to babysit him and Erica when they were younger. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, so I know that he’ll help us.”

“The more people on my side the better.” Eddie said under his breath.

You turned to face him, “You’ve got a pretty great team in your corner. We’re going to figure this out.” He just nodded his head. Concern laced his eyes and you wished that there was something more than you could do to ease the anxiety that he was feeling. “Come on, let me make you some lunch.”

“Hey,” he called as you turned towards the kitchen. You turned quickly back to him, eyebrows raised, waiting for him to say something. “Nevermind,” he muttered instead.

Dustin finally came through on the walkie about two hours later. You and Eddie huddled around the small receiver, hanging on every word your little brother said; the connection between the murders, the possibility of Vecna being able to open up gates, the history of the Creel house, Max. A lot had happened in the last 48 hours, and they felt as if they were so close to finding the answers they needed to clear Eddie’s name.

Lastly, he wanted you and Eddie to meet the Party at Skull Rock to test a theory that he had. Skull Rock was about two miles south of your house if you walked straight through the woods. It wasn’t ideal to go gallavanting about thought the woods with your best friend, who was also wanted for murder and being chased by a few angry jocks, but he felt like it must have been pretty important if Dustin thought they needed to be there. You and Eddie didn’t really talk much on the way there. You could tell that he was deep in thought and you didn’t want to pry. If you knew anything about Eddie, it was that if he had something to say, he would say it. He didn’t usually hold back.

Once you met up with everyone at Skull Rock, including Lucas, your brother explained his theory about his compass. He believed that, just like before, if you all followed his compass, it would lead directly to a gate. You trusted him, of course, everyone did. If he was right, this could be your one shot at Vecna. At clearing Eddie’s name. It was a chance that you had to take. So you head off deeper into the woods, your little brother leading the way.

A looming anxiety hung in the air as you began to recollect past memories of a monster made from your friends and neighbors, watching Steve almost get killed by what began as a slug, and witnessing your friend’s step-brother die in front of your eyes. The thought of something like that happening to any one of the people in this group- or Will, Jonathan, El, Mrs. Byers, or Mike. Or your mother. You wouldn’t be able to handle that. You couldn’t.

As day turned to night, you and your friends continued to trudge through the dense Indiana forests.

“We’re getting closer!” Dustin yelled as he ran through the woods.

“Dustin, slow down!” Eddie yelled after him.

Suddenly, Dustin came to a halt with Eddie behind him, holding onto his sweatshirt to keep him from running straight into Lover’s Lake.

“There’s a gate in Lover’s Lake?” Robin asked.

“I told you this theory wouldn’t work,” Steve scoffed.

“No,” Nancy began. “Whenever the Demogorgan attacked, it always left an opening. What if Vecna does the same?”

“We can’t swim out there, we don’t know what’s in there.” you included. “What about Rick’s boat?”

“That’ll work,” Steve agreed as he and the rest of the Party took off along the shore towards Rick’s boathouse.

Eddie hung back, however.

“Hey,” he said softly, falling in step behind you. “You okay?”

You nodded, pulling your mouth to the side and biting the inside of your cheek. It was a lie and one that Eddie could see right through, but you weren’t sure how to tell him that you were terrified. You didn’t know how to tell him that there was a very real possibility that someone could die, that this was real- it wasn’t a joke, it wasn’t pretend. You didn’t know how to tell him that you couldn’t live without him and that you would rather get yourself killed if it meant that he was safe.

So you just say that you’re fine. Confessing your love would just have to wait until you both made it out of this alive.

Steve and Eddie hoisted the boat into the water and Robin was the first one in, followed by Eddie. He turned and held his hand out to you, but you shook your head.

“Someone has to stay with the kids.” You told him.

Nancy brushed past you and into the boat.

You could see Eddie debating staying with you but before he could make a move to step back out of the boat, Steve had pushed off from the dock and hopped in. Your heart sank knowing that if something happened, you wouldn’t be able to protect him. You watched as they made their way to the middle of the lake before slowing to a stop. Robin’s voice came over the radio to let Dustin know that his compass was spinning like crazy. If there was a gate down there, they were floating right above it, and that made you uneasy.

With your eyes peeled, you could just barely make out Steve standing in the small boat to remove his shoes and his sweater. He was going to jump. You looked over at Dustin who’s features were plagued with worry and concern. Steve Harrington had become almost like a brother to Dustin, his role model. You silently reached over and squeezed his shoulder to reassure him that everything was going to be okay.

Seconds later, Steve dived into the depths of the lake, and all the four of you could do was watch.

“Shit! Cops!” Max whispered behind you. “Get down”

You ducked and turned to see flashlights and uniforms headed your way.

“We can’t let them find Eddie.” Lucas whispered.

You began to panic, knowing that if they found him, you’d not only be jeopardizing the mission but also the lives of the Hawkins Police department. “I have an idea, stay with me.” Before you could explain, you jumped out from behind the tree you were hiding behind and yelled at the officers. “Officers! Over here I found the killer, this way!”

Lucas, Max, Dustin, and the police were all running as quickly as they could after you. It wasn’t the best plan, but it was a plan nonetheless. A few more minutes of doing nothing and the cops could have spotted Eddie and your friends out on that boat, you had to get them out of there. If you couldn’t be with him, you bet your ass that you would do whatever you could for him on the sideline. That, apparently, included getting arrested.

You turned your head to make sure the kids were still behind you when you ran smack dab into the arms of Officer Callaghan. Dustin, Lucas, and Max were all being apprehended, as well.

“Where you goin’?” The deputy asked with a stupid smirk.

You weren’t sure why the police would take you to the Wheeler’s instead of the station, but when the four of you arrived, your mother, as well as Lucas’ parents and Erica, and Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler were waiting for you. The look of utter confusion and disappointment on your mother’s face made you frown; she was so emotional already, you hated that she was being dragged into this. You and Dustin had tried your hardest to keep her in the dark for the past two years.

“What were you all doing at the lake?” Chief Powell asked.

The four of you were sitting on the couch, all eyes on you as you were the oldest and- supposed to be- the one in charge. The three kids looked to you for an answer. “We- uh, we were just going for a walk.”

“A walk at 9:00 PM?” Officer Callaghan rebutted.

“To the lake!” Dustin cried nervously. You sighed, closing your eyes as your brother made this worse for you all. “We were going to take a little swim. A little night swim.”

“Dusty!” Your mother scolded. “Someone was just murdered there!”

“Y-yeah, we didn’t realize that until we got there.” Dustin answered.

“That’s why we didn’t swim!” Lucas added.

“And Nancy,” Mrs. Wheeler interjected. “Was she with you at this night swim?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Nancy was there, and so were Steve and Robin, but they all left.” You stated out of annoyance at Dustin and Max who were making this a lot more complicated than it needed to be. “And when I said that I had found the killer,” you added. “That was just a joke.”

“Have you had any contact with Eddie?” Chief Powell asked.

“That psycho, freak killer?” Dustin asked, you cleared your throat. “No!”

“We barely know the guy.”

“We haven’t heard from him in ages.”

“This isn’t working,” Powell muttered under his breath with a shake of his head. “You,” he pointed a finger in your direction and you gulped. “Let’s go, I want to talk with you alone.”

You rolled your eyes and stood up from the couch, following Officer Powell to Ted Wheeler’s office. Officer Callaghan followed closely, closing the door behind you. You sighed in frustration as you took a seat, knowing that this wasn't going to help in any way. Eddie and your friends were out there, unprepared and alone, and you were being questioned by the police surrounded by boring, yellow wallpaper and baby pictures of Mike Wheeler.

“You know we want to help you,” Powell said polietly.

“No,” you replied. “You want to put Eddie behind bars and blame him for whatever weird shit is going on in this town that you’re not equipped to handle." Powell and Callaghan shared a look. "That’s all you’ve ever done is cover it up; Will Byers, the Hawkins Lab, Starcourt Mall. Yeah, I know about all of it, because I was there. You know Eddie is innocent.”

He sighed, “If Eddie is innocent, then why did he run?”

“Because he was scared that whatever killed Chrissy would kill him, too!” You answered. "You saw her, you expect me to believe that you'd just stand there and wait to be next?"

“Where is he now?”

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully with a shrug and Callaghan scoffed. “I don’t!”

“You know,” Callaghan began. “Aiding and abetting a fugitive is a felony.”

“Then arrest me,” you spat.

Powell sighed again, “We’re not going to arrest you. Just tell us where Eddie is.”

“Like I said, I don’t know.” You stood up. “So, if you’re not going to arrest me, I suggest you let me leave.”

You brushed past the two officers and out the door. The parents were huddled in the living room but there was no sign of Dustin and the others. That was until you spotted him on the stairs, peeking around the corner. He motioned for you to follow him.

“What did you tell them?” He asked in a whisper as you headed upstairs.

“That they’re idiots,” you replied. “In more or less words.”

“We have a plan.” Dustin opened the door to Nancy’s room to reveal Max and Erica, Lucas was already hanging out of the window. “So you know how there was a gate in Lover’s Lake?” He asked as Max went to follow Lucas. “Well, our very smart friends decided to go through it.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. “Wait,” you put your hands on Dustin’s shoulders, forcing him to look you in the eye. “Eddie is in the Upside Down?”

“Yes, but he’s safe.” Dustin replied and you sighed in relief. “We think there is a gate at every murder site. So we’re going to get out of here and meet them at Eddie’s trailer and hopefully they can come back through that gate”

Erica was next out of the window.

“Do you know how cool it is to have a genius for a little brother?” You asked as you ducked between the window panes and hopped down to the roof of the garage.

“Yeah well,” Dustin followed you. “You’re not too bad, yourself.”

You jumped on the bikes and headed straight for Eddie’s trailer as fast as you could. It would be a long ride, but you pedaled as if your life depended on it. As if Eddie’s life depended on it. Your legs were burning as you turned into the gravel of Forest Hills Trailer Park, almost making you collapse as you stood on two feet, tossing the bike down to the ground.

When you got into the trailer, your eyes immediately widened at the sight of the ceiling, which had opened up into an oozing, red fissure.

"Holy shit," you muttered under your breath.

"Holy shit is right," Max said sarcastically looking around at the Munson's living room. She stopped as her eyes fell onto a strip of movie theater photos of you and Eddie that was pinned to his refrigerator with a magnet. "That's cute."

“Not now, Max.” You replied.

Dustin grabbed a broom and hesitated for a moment, sharing a look with the other kids in the room, before jamming it through the thick red gunge. As you peered through the mucus, you could see the other side; a dark version of the same trailer you were currently standing in. Craning your neck, you looked for any sign of Eddie and the others, and finally, your eyes landed on Steve stepping through the darkness. You smiled at the sight of him, followed by Robin and Nancy, and finally Eddie; his giant, brown eyes connecting with yours, making your smile grow. A weight was lifted off of your chest.

Dustin laughed, impressed with himself.

“Max, Lucas,” you instructed, not taking your eyes off of Eddie. “Go grab the mattress in the back room and bring it in here. I don’t know how this is going to work, but if they’re going to be falling out of the ceiling, they’re going to need a soft landing.”

“I have a theory!” Dustin exclaimed, Steve rolled his eyes; hands on his hips.

He brushed past you, following Max and Lucas to Eddie’s bedroom and ripped the top sheet off of the bed. He then plopped down at the little kitchen and immediately began working on tying knots in the sheets. Max and Lucas pulled the mattress across the linoleum floor and dropped it in the middle of the living room. You could hear Eddie making a comment about the stains that dirtied his sheets and pursed your lips together knowing that they were from accidentally getting too high and spilling the bong water. You helped Erica move anything out of the way that might get broken during whatever it was that was about to transpire.

“Alright,” Dustin said as he finished with the rope. He stepped into the middle of the mattress and looked up into the faces of his friends. “I don’t know how the physics of this is going to work but-” He tossed the rope upwards into the gate- to your surprise, it fell perfectly through the opening to the other side. “And if I’m correct-” Dustin released his grip on the rope and it stayed in place.

You gave your brother a high five and a hug for his genius as everyone else cheered.

Robin was the first to climb through, her body flipping through the air and down to the mattress as soon as she made it through. “That was fun!” She smiled, you held out a hand to help her up.

Eddie began climbing up next. “That was fun!” He exclaimed as he came down. Robin helped him up, but as soon as he got to his feet, you wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you could. “Hey, sweetheart,” he laughed.

“Oh my God, I was so worried.” You mumbled into his chest.

“So was I,” he replied softly, placing a small kiss on the top of your head.

Nancy came flying through the gate next, pulling your attention back to the room. She didn’t seem like she enjoyed it as much as the first two, however. Steve was last, flipping through the portal with ease, making Robin roll her eyes. You noticed that he was injured and motioned to his midsection which was bandaged.

“Nah, I’ll be fine.” He shrugged.

With eight people now crowding the already tiny trailer, you began feeling slightly claustrophobic. Excusing yourself, you brushed past the rest of the Party and through the door to get some fresh air. The chilly, March air was refreshing as you shoved your hands down into your jacket pockets and pulled it around your frame. The trailer park was mostly dark; only dimly lit by a single street lamp that buzzed quietly overhead as moths swarmed around the light.

You took a few steps to the lonely picnic table that sat empty in the shadows. Most of the residents were sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware that there was a portal to another dimension in their neighbor’s trailer. More than half of them would probably say that it was Eddie, himself, who opened that portal as he worshiped Satan on the floor of his living room; which couldn��t be farther from the truth. However, the people of Hawkins, Indiana weren’t very bright, instead they were incredibly gullible, listening to and believing anything that WTTV4 told them was the truth.

This town didn’t deserve Eddie.

You heard the trailer door open and shut. Taking your eyes off of the moon, you looked over to see Eddie. His anky figure stepped out of the darkness and into the dim light of the street lamp.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey yourself.” You smiled up at him. He climbed up on the picnic table to sit next to you, leaning into your side as he got comfortable. “So, how was your first experience in the Upside Down?”

“It was an experience, to say the least.” He mentioned, toying with the chunky, silver rings on his fingers. You noticed pretty early on in your friendship that he fidgeted with his rings often when he was nervous or anxious.

You placed a hand over his to calm his nerves, “You want to talk about it?”

“Just one thing, really.” His voice was so soft. “When I was out there, I saw something. It uh- it wasn’t like monsters or anything like that, it was- I saw- well, I realized that I- I would jump for you.” You looked at him, not having a clue what he was trying to say, but before you could say anything he continued. “Something grabbed Harrington,” he explained. “Pulled him under, through the gate, and Wheeler- she just dived right in. No hesitation. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re that person for me. I’m jumping off that boat.”

“Eddie,” you couldn’t help but smile. “What are you saying?”

“I love you is what I’m saying,” he rubbed his hands over his face. “Pretty sure I always have.”

“Tell me again,” you whispered and looked up into his dark brown eyes through your lashes, needing to hear him say it one more time.

His hand moved up to cup your face and you shivered at the contact of his large, calloused hand on your skin. “I love you.” He whispered before placing his perfect lips on yours in a tender kiss.

You pulled away, only briefly, to say one thing. “I love you, too.”

#you know what dirty bong water could be the reason for those stains #but if any of you actually smoke you know how horrible bong water smells #but for the sake of our main character those stains are not from Eddie's escapades with random women #I kind of really want to write a part 2 to this depicting the events of vol 2 with a twist but it would take forever #Maybe once I'm finished with other requests #eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fan fic #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #steve harrington #dustin henderson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler

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yuriturntodie · 1 year

Note

since it seems like ygs are somewhat new to running zines-- a week is a really short amt of time for an interest check! Generally they run for abt a month :)

Also, what's the schedule like? How much time is between check-ins?

Thank you for the input!! The people working and contributing to the zine is a very small team as of right now, however, and this is planned to be just something we're doing for fun, as opposed to a big zine with a lot of contributors. Applications for the zine itself will be available soon enough, though even then, only a limited number of people will be accepted for the reason of keeping the zine fairly small.

The schedule itself isn't completely set in stone yet, though the plan right now is to aim for our deadline to be around the end of July, and will be published around August. By check-ins, we assume you meant works in progresses and the like, which we can say would be around every few weeks, so that you know we're still working on it!

Hope this answers the questions sufficiently!! ★

#zine stuff ♡#lovebird letters ♡

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west-tokyo-incidents · 1 year

Text

In the Facility, many things are fluid. Sometimes lives can be returned. If a life is lost in a timeline, then often times simply reversing the time of that one and pulling the dead one out is more than enough to stop their death. Though, this is only done for very important people. It's very resource intensive to do so just for one or who low class recon teams.

That is to say, very little is set in stone. They exist outside of space and time and reasonable fear of the unknown.

Usually.

There was a short time period where the Rh-08 were not the static, unchanging staff that they are now.

After the Facility's formation, the Six and the Admin went through multiple partners who turned out to be traitors, died too fast t justify returning, or any other number of things.

Garion tried very hard not to play favorites when picking the ones who would be his partners. They're commanders, advisors, confidantes, guards, stand-ins, the role of being one of the Rh-08 is not a small task. And with Garion's presence in high demand, it's the very reason he has two. He didn't want to look like he was just picking his friends...

But more often than not, in the beginning, the original Rh-00s and Rh-01s kept... ceasing to exist.

And Garion was tired. Did he regret some of it? Of course. In fact, he regretted most of it.

See, Garion is, in an almost cosmic act of karma, the one constant.

There is no turning back and redoing what he has undone. Like Dunstan, he is One. There simply are no others. And the power given to him by the cruel creator of... all of this... is perhaps the cruelest trick of them all.

It's not quite a noh. Vice cannot steal it--a blessing, all will agree. It's related, but it isn't activated by a mechanism or engine in his system. Should he so please, anything may simply... be no more. At the expense of his wellbeing, yes, but still gone.

It's unknown just how many douji, humans, ningyo, robots, animals, fusions, abomination, how many things are simply just. Gone. Because of him.

Regret is known to him on a level far deeper than any human in their own petty little timeline.

The World Eater is, perhaps, his greatest. It was a necessity. It was a decision that had to be made.

But there's no tracking where it came from. No figuring out what it used to be. No predicting when another one may arise... and the side effects of his ability give him all the time in the world to think about it.

Garion is curled up, in a room, in a motel, in some far flung timeline. He doesn't keep to a specific place in the Facility. Not yet. He stares at a wall, listening to the sounds of Songbird cooking in the little kitchen area of the place. Dubois is posted at the door to the little room, lounged in a chair he's dragged to sit next to it. He can't see the black-clad soldier from here, but he knows he's there.

Everything and nothing flash through his mind. He can't physically move. Dubois had carried him to the room after Songbird checked them in. He suspects they'll both help him eat here before too long.

He feels the mattress shift. A soft, but deep voice, gently says his name. He contemplates moving his eyes to look at the figure he knows has abandoned their post to come over. Songbird must be wrapping up the meal.

"Garion." His name is repeated and he reluctantly shifts his eyes to looks, the miniscule motion akin to the strain of turning a screw that one last rotation to tighten it.

The look on Dubois's face is almost enough to make him pity himself, the amount of concern he can see there. The Paresse instance looks nearly as if he was still freshly plucked off the mountainside, though his uniform is black and a feather hangs from a piercing on his right ear.

"Good, you can hear me. Can you move your head?"

...he tries to nod. It doesn't work. Dubois understands the lack of movement to confirm his suspicion. The soldier gives him a withering little smile, "Sorry." A hand lays on his shoulder, gently squeezing.

"Stop pestering him, babe." Songbird chides and Dubois' head turns to look at his girlfriend.

"He can hear again, and move his eyes."

He doesn't look away from Dubois' face. Why is he even here? Why is Songbird here? Where is Rh-00 and Rh-01? This is their job, not the job of these two...

Part of him already suspects what he's done.

"...well, that's good. Still, leave him alone. When he can move his mouth again is when he can eat, no sooner. We can't risk him choking." He doesn't see Songbird standing with her hands on her hips, chastising Dubois, but he knows that's what she's doing. It's what she does.

Dubois nods, then throws a side glance to Garion again, "If you'd let us tube you, we could get food in you faster. You'd recover sooner."

Garion manages a low gagging noise in his throat, and it at least pulls a small laugh out of both of his friends. Dubois gently rubs his shoulder for a second before standing up and going back to the chair at the door.

Garion stares at the empty space left behind. Feels the mattress decompress. His gaze slowly returns to its place on the far wall. He wants to ask how long they've been here. He decides it'll be the first thing he asks as soon as function returns to his facial muscles.

He starts slowly trying to move his jaw as he sees a shape in his peripheral move from the kitchen area over to the door. He hears a quiet 'thank you' from the soldier. Songbird is giving Dubois food.

It will take another few hours. The portion of the food meant for him is put away in the little fridge in the room. Songbird lounges on the bed next to him with a book, occasionally giving Garion little check ups, asking if he wants water or checking his pulse. Or just talking at him. It's a nice distraction. She must know what's on his mind.

It was fast.

You know it's painless.

Don't trap yourself in there.

They should have known better anyways.

No one blames you.

...

Garion doesn't look at her when she talks to him. It confirms his fears. And it further seals the fact in his mind what he's done.

Somewhere in his mind he vaguely makes the note that his ability causes amnesia following such an application of force.

He's killed his own guards again. Not just killed them, but destroyed them. Removed them from existence. He narrows his eyes as he tries to picture them. Hadn't he chosen a Vice and an Ultimo? He doesn't remember. He wants to. It's his fault they're just. Gone.

But trying to hold on to a single thought is like scrabbling for a hold as you drown beneath the froth of rapids.

A hand on his wrist. Feeling his pulse. His name. Once. Twice.

"Garion."

His eyes come in to focus. He shifts them to the brown and gold of Songbird's eyes.

"Hey, there you are. Stick with us, okay? You're still human in there."

...right. He takes a slow breath. He tries to move his jaw again. The joint complains like an old, jammed up hinge, but it moves. Songbird smiles, a light coming up in her usually stoic and angry eyes. She stands up and motions to Dubois.

The next thing he knows, he's leaned up against the larger man and he hears the piercing beeps of a microwave.

Sitting up, he can see the pale purple-blue of dawn outside the window. He wonders, again, how long they've been here. How long these two have been taking care of him.

Chewing is hard, and he hates that he has to have Songbird's food reheated, but it's good none the less. Even if one of the two has to occasionally remind him to close his jaw to chew.

At some point he's leaning heavily on Dubois, eyes closed. He manages to slur out some garbled nonsense that barely resembles any language, much less proper French. But Dubois responds anyways.

"We've only been here for a couple days."

Only? Days? Garion shoots Dubois a glare.

"The Doctor expected you to be out for at least a week. If you weren't moving by noon we were under strict orders to bring you back in."

Oh. Garion makes a grunt in his chest. What time is it? Finally able to move more than an inch an hour, his gaze slowly slides around the room, looking for a clock. He finds one. 7... some shit am.

He lets his eyes slowly shut.

"I killed them." His words come out without his permission.

"Yep." Dubois.

"...why are you two here? Why wasn't someone assigned to--"

"We were." Songbird.

"What...?"

"Father assigned us to you. Says it's up to you if you keep us as your partners, but right now, I'm Rh-00 and she's Rh-01." Dubois' voice cut through his fogged mind like a skilled butcher guts a pig. His mouth hangs open as his mental gore spills at the realization.

It hangs in the air for a bit. But his jaw slowly shuts. Oh. That... makes sense. He nods. Slowly...

But it's a nod.

#oh yeah btw both songbird and dubois are like #design-wise very raven themed #the whole like.#thing is that Garion has a very Odin undercurrent to his theming #the facility #garion dubois #songbird #dubois #vague implication of gd/d/sb #theyre like #a throuple but also not #idk how to explain it theyre just weird like that.

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streetlights-was-taken · 1 year

Text

🌗🌙☀️: character notes ii

I think about this fic idea every day but I don't feel ready to write it yet. however, I can think up more backstories for the other characters!

this might be even more disorganized than the last post. as with all my pre-writing posts, I'm just making things up as I go along and word vomiting ideas. not even sure if I'll use all of them tbh.

btw, I have to preface this post by admitting that, in between the last post and this one, I started reading oshi no ko and have taken huge inspiration from it. thematically, there are some similarities since the conception of this fic idea, though they're still quite different.

but what I like about onk is how the past of the character heavily affects their actions, and the slow revelation of their past to the reader. this is something I want to get better at, so it's actually really great that I'm starting with the backstories right now before actually plotting the fic (which... I honestly don't know at the moment. all I have is the premise, and I think I'll just let the characters do what they want and see where the story goes). anyway.

> timeline

as I was working on the backstories for other characters, I realize that I needed to make a timeline of events to see where everyone was at in their lives relative to each other. as it turns out, I've thought about 13 years' worth of backstory for most of them. the fic starts at around year 14 in the table. numbers in parentheses show the characters' ages in that year.

this isn't set in stone or anything, but it'll be a rough guideline that I'll follow to get an idea of the character's past once the story is set into motion.

> character backstory: albedo, xingqiu, lumine

I've always wanted to make albedo the protagonist because he's the most uninvolved character in the fic's entertainment industry, so it will be easier to world build around his point of view. similarly, he's the outsider who doesn't know these people he's about to meet, what their secrets are, how they're all connected to one another.

however he is a bit of a blank slate since he's the most disconnected to all of the other characters I've already developed in my head. which worried me, for a while, because I do want to give albedo depth beyond just being "the researcher" character, the person who helps aether grow, or the outsider. so I'll just throw ideas into this post and see what will stick.

first, the basics. albedo is a young prodigy who grew up with alice and rhinedottir and all the other witches, most of whom have very loose views on morality, gender, etc. and are all accomplished writers or researchers. as such, albedo hasn't really thought of gender as something that really plays a role in his identity. he also grew up already wanting to work in academia and becoming a scientist. he entered university at the young age of 16 and already started getting involved in research projects at the age of 24. he is two years older than venti and aether.

every child of mondstadt grew up loving music, and albedo is no exception. he doesn't keep up with celebrities, but he does enjoy listening to music when he works. so he's the type of person who casually knows the popular artists like barbara, eula, LUMI, etc. but isn't into idol culture and the like. everything he knows about idol culture is something he learns through osmosis because he's friends with xingqiu.

xingqiu is still the second son to the guild master of the feiyun commerce guild, he's still an author, he still practices guhua arts, he's basically the same as canon xingqiu, but modern. I'm taking fanon drummer chongyun into this fic-verse though. chongyun is a drummer to xinyan's band and xingqiu is very supportive of them. xingqiu is also a LUMI fan.

there are actually some key scenes I already envisioned albedo to be in, but I wasn't sure of when it happens in the story until I started making the timeline above. I figured out that one of those key scenes happens in year 11 of the timeline. LUMI is on tour and albedo is already on his second research project. he accompanies xingqiu to a concert and then to a fanmeet. only xingqiu goes up to LUMI and talks to her, and he comes back to albedo feeling elated and happy. he doesn't tell albedo why, but the reason is because he mentions to LUMI that he related to her music so much because it felt like he was seen through it and that the song validated his experience with his own gender, even though he thinks that might not have been LUMI's intention. LUMI winks at him and lets him in on a secret: that it's exactly why she wrote that song because she's going through a similar experience herself. "but please don't tell anyone! since you shared an intimate secret with me, I'll share mine with you. let's keep each other's secrets until we're both ready, okay?"

that's basically what I had in mind for albedo up until the writing of this post. one thing I realized today while creating the timeline is that I think it would benefit the story to develop albedo and lumine's character together.

see, a detail of lumine that I wanted to write but didn't think would affect the story much is that, while aether is pursuing his degree, lumine tried getting into the entertainment industry by auditioning for a children's show. I'm not sure what kind of show yet. but think think hi-5 or the wiggles, or maybe even just voice acting.

this was more of a trivia about her character that shows other ways she tried getting into the entertainment industry, or showcasing her talents in another way before she was on the road to becoming an idol. but I think we can tie this detail to albedo. see, if lumine works in a children's show, it's likely that klee has seen it. she might even be a fan! and maybe that's how albedo first learns about lumine.

maybe he takes klee to a live broadcast of the show and albedo meets lumine for the first time. lumine, who isn't an idol yet but dreams big. lumine, who is charismatic and talented and good with kids. lumine, who works hard and has a brother who just started attending university. lumine, who is good at dancing and has stage presence and has so many creative ideas, but is herself not that great of a singer (yet!). she isn't a music prodigy like her brother, and even though being an idol is more than just music, to lumine the music is the most important thing.

this is the lumine albedo meets for the first time. this lumine is a dreamer, but she thinks her brother is a bigger dreamer than she is and that he'll do many great things in the future. all lumine wants to do is become an idol. but aether? in her eyes, aether could be a scientist, an idol, he can be anything he wants to be! he's so good at so many things! he immediately understands and intuits venti's music process, unlike lumine who has to work harder about it. he got into a good university and is reading all these books and papers that lumine would never read. he lives in two different worlds like it's easy while lumine is struggling to even survive in this one (the entertainment industry). sure she has natural charisma and "star power" but that can only get her so far. aether can learn it, she thinks. aether can go farther.

which is why lumine works extra hard to make up for it. (unbeknownst to her, the more she works hard the more aether thinks he's dragging her down).

anyway, so albedo meets lumine at a tv set where klee is one of the kids in the audience for that episode. maybe this happens a handful of times. during those times, lumine enjoys albedo's company and confides in him that she dreams of becoming an idol. she tells him about her brother, how wonderful he is and how he's going to be a great scientist and idol.

lumine: but the most important thing is that we'll debut together! just you wait, albedo. if klee loves me now, I'm sure she'll love aether. and maybe you will too. maybe you'll even write a paper together. albedo: then I'll look forward to your debut. good luck.

god, imagine his surprise when LUMI debuts as a soloist. where the heck is her mysterious brother? did he end up pursuing academia after all? but albedo is in the same field as he is, and he hasn't heard of him at all. and he would know any graduate of mondstadt university who studied ley line related courses.

I'm still playing around with this idea. it's not thoroughly fleshed out, but I think this would offer a new lens on lumine in the story that aether doesn't provide. and this would also add a new layer to the relationship between albedo and aether.

> character backstory: kunikuzushi, kazuha

I've decided pretty early on that this will be a scaraven fic on the side. I think venti would totally understand scara's whole deal since he's friends with aether, and I think venti needs to grow and not be stuck in his past with lumine and aether as well.

so scara's story is pretty straightforward. I already mentioned (edited) it in the first post, but to summarize: kunikuzushi was named after his aunt who passed away, makoto. he didn't really connect with the name or identity his mother gave him, so he changed his name to kunikuzushi. I am still not sure what his relationship with ei is like... and I'm not sure it matters much in the fic, so I'll probably just decided on it when it comes up in the plot.

kunikuzushi spent two years performing in kabuki theater, where he first meets kazuha. they become close friends as they performed together. later, he decides he wants to become an idol and kazuha decides he wants to become a choreographer. they both leave the theater to pursue their dream.

do you know 1MDS? I'm thinking that beidou's crux fleet is the equivalent of that, and kazuha becomes a choreographer there. he has dance classes, but he eventually also choreographs for artists as well. when aether debuts as Æsir, I'm thinking that kazuha helps with the choreography for his "eclipse" album. kazuha looks similar enough to aether so they can do a lot of fun mirror dancing with aether's sun and moon motifs.

kunikuzushi debuts in the FATUI idol group as scaramouche. now, FATUI is kind of a weird idol group. taking inspiration from the commedia dell’arte, it's a group where everyone has a stage name and when the idol for that stage name leaves (for whatever reason) a new idol can take up that stage name and join the group, or choose a new stage name that's part of the commedia dell’arte. those who take up an old stage name will have to learn the choreography and lines of their previous incarnations. in this way, the group will be "forever" and they can make money re-releasing songs with new idols every now and then. but each idol that debuts into FATUI always announces their debut with their own unique solo song.

for example, as a reference to the dottoclones, there have been many idols who took up the "dottore" stage name and there have been songs re-recorded with different idols singing dottore's lines. but all of the dottoclone idols have their own solo debut songs. kunikuzushi is the first to take up the "scaramouche" stage name. FATUI also has some really convoluted subunits and lore in their mvs because of this, but that's exactly what the fans love about them.

basically I want the FATUI group to have their fans creating youtube videos titled "a complete guide to the fatui idol system (all members)" or "FATUI explained (2023 update!)" like some people do for nct. I mean, just look at the chart here. I want FATUI to have a chart like this.

(I... still do not actually understand how nct and their subunits work, so this chart does not make sense to me. sorry.)

anyway, as explained in the first post, kazuha and kunikuzushi meet aether while he's trying to do his disappearing act and they help him get back up on his feet.

now, about their idol careers. it's known in the fan community that scaramouche and LUMI are close friends and everyone is dying for a collab (which never happened in a song, but they do show up in a variety show together and a choreography video with kazuha). scaramouche becomes very popular and is known for his sharp dances, his rapping (which he writes, and he has his own tag/signature in songs to show that), and overall having a cool, can't-be-bothered-but-you-know-I'm-better-than-you / I'm-trouble-but-you-love-trouble stage presence, as is expected from the "scaramouche" stock character from the commedia dell'arte. clever, has villainous traits, gets into trouble, obsessed with one thing. kunikuzushi actually enjoys this work because it really is kinda like theater in a way. he's just playing a role, a mask.

all of this ends, however, over a "scandal" that goes completely out of control before the label can do anything about it in time. what happens is this: aether (as aether, not as lumine, so nobody really even recognizes him), kunikuzushi, and kazuha are hanging out somewhere when someone (a stalker?) starts harrassing them. he recognizes kunikuzushi as ei's child and calls him as such. as makoto. kunikuzushi is rightfully furious and punches the guy in the face. maybe several times.

you can maybe get away with that as a normal celebrity, maybe even as a non-idol singer. but alas, kunikuzushi is an idol, and these kinds of things will kill your career as an idol. videos of the incident goes around the internet and the fans turn on him, saying that he really is like the "scaramouche" mask that he puts on. he really is villainous, he'll assault even his own fan, he was always rude and arrogant!!

even when they clear things up, his reputation has been ruined. and they can't even tell the public the real reason because kunikuzushi, understandably, doesn't want them to know. his career as "scaramouche" is over, and he knows that anything he does after this will not be received well by the fans. he leaves the group and the label over this incident.

this affects aether while he makes his own music after that. this, combined with his own identity issues, is what causes him to go on hiatus just six months after kunikuzushi leaves the FATUI.

I am not sure how he meets nahida after this, but it doesn't feel right to write kunikuzushi without getting nahida involved. I'll think about this some more. nahida is involved more with the academia side, so I think she'll be the bridge to how albedo meets kunikuzushi. this is a good time for kunikuzushi to check up on how aether is doing too now that they're both out of the limelight.

eventually, kunikuzushi decides to become an independent artist. he meets venti through aether and they start writing songs together. he'll debut with the stage name "wanderer" and his music from here on out is a fusion of hip-hop and traditional inazuman music, a kind of mesh of influences from his time in kabuki theater and as an idol. a lot of his promotion is probably theater-inspired as well, just like his constellations in the game.

> fic plot

as I mentioned before, I can write extensive backstories but I have no idea what the actual fic plot is lol. that's fine. of course, I can always just change the premise of the fic and write about everything I just said here instead. but... I don't think that's the story I want to tell. these are all just background information I have to guide the fic when I need that guidance on the characters.

but the story I want to tell starts when aether meets albedo as his research assistant, and not a year earlier than that. this, I am very sure of.

edit: oh my god I haven't even touched on dainsleif and diluc in this post............ but I have thought about their backgrounds too, btw. diluc is still the wine industry head and the music company is just something he does on the side. dainsleif was just starting a music company and lumine and aether was supposed to be his first artist, but with the car crash the company just folded and he joined diluc's company instead. so aether seeking him out again was, in a way, dainsleif's second chance as well. but for most of the fic I think he'll just be a stressed idol manager lol.

#fic: eclipse #appendix

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dzpenumbra · 1 year

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1/19/23

Cat's fussy tonight. She's getting a bit spoiled with me running the faucet for her so she can drink it. She was very spoiled with that for a long time, and I learned the hard way that leaving a faucet slowly running 24/7 is... not great for a faucet. But she just really seems to like it. I've had a project in the back of my mind for both of us for a while now, I just don't know how I'm going to pull it off. First thought was, "I need to get her a fountain," which of course branches into, "I need to make her a fountain," which goes to, "I need to make us a fountain." And then I go... "wait, I could make like... an actual running stream. Like a natural stream of running water with a pump on it... built into a table. Like a mini zen garden kinda thing, built into a big deep table, with an actual river running through it, maybe even a waterfall for her to drink from." And then it goes to, "holy shit, I can even make the whole thing from completely natural materials, and have like... living moss growing in it, real plants. Not just stone and sand, but like... soil and plants."

I get so excited when I can see these projects so vividly! And I really will commit to finishing a project like that. I just... immediately consider my current list of projects, which is... 11 long? And that's just the repeatable ones, there are more on the one-off list. And it just... feels like other projects should get center stage. Like getting furniture for my house. Like making the two necklaces I've been putting off for like... weeks. Like making music. Like designing the new mahogany coat hanger rack. The list keeps going. And I just... ugh, I just wish I had company, honestly. An extra set of hands to pull a few all-nighters, listen to some great music and crank out like 5 of these awesome projects.

I thought streaming was going to be this. And I'll tell you exactly why it isn't. It may not be what you think. Take a look at what I'm looking for up above - company to listen to music and either make art with me or keep me company while I do it. And guess why that doesn't work. Hmm... I wonder.

Let me get this "pseudo-political" rant out of the way, because it very clearly has been crippling me for a while, and drove me down a very dark path to try to avoid it. I, as a creator, do not want any fucking trouble. I just want to make my things, and share my ideas, and if you don't like them, you can change the channel. It's not that hard. But there has been a steady push to whitewash and family-friendly-ize all streaming platforms over the past... well, majority of a decade now. It was not always like this. And I guarantee what happened is that cable TV started dying, so people who used to work for cable TV came over to streaming platforms, YT and the like, and... just made cable 2.0. Who needs an FCC when you have a totalitarian stranglehold over what TV shows stay on the air and what don't. It's a different organism, yet we're still playing by TV's rules. It feels archaic, and it leaves me... creatively anxious. I see it a lot.

How does this affect me, as a broadcaster? The same as my writing. If I swear, which I do frequently, and some bitchy Karen parent in the Bible belt or something reports me for "obscenity", I lose my ability to stream. Not just lose my ability to make money, my channel gets shut down. I lose my ability to maintain an audience, to gain viewers, to grow. If I don't move to a different platform, I can lose momentum entirely. I saw it happen to a somewhat-known comedian I used to Twitch mod for. He got banned for having the word "nipples" in his username. For over a month. He had to go to a personal connection that knew someone at Twitch to get his username manually switched to his actual name, just to be able to stream again. And that did a number on him. Point being, even if you're making a joke, even if you're just speaking your casual language... if you're a smaller (not a Partner, I guess) streamer, you're kinda just shit out of luck if an automated system guns you down. And that anxiety hangs over all our heads every day. Try being creative when, if your joke doesn't land, a robot bans you from that comedy club and every support line is automated. You're just... done. Because one cranky Karen decided she needed to take out her lack of supervising her child on you.

Now, I can even push past that, because I don't really swear that much honestly, and my humor is really not that crude at all, not like it used to be. What gets me now... is music. It's the ass-backwards system the record labels decided to put into place, on their endless automated crusade to remove music from the internet. How ironic is that? The industry devoted to spreading music is now pretty much the exclusive source of music censorship and removal. They are systematically rooting out the spread of music globally, every day. They fucking automated the process too, so they can't even claim they're providing jobs for people here. They are just a vacuum sucking up culture and mulching it, so they can force listeners onto music streaming platforms, where they have a stranglehold on the market.

Now here's a thought I had earlier that I think could solve that whole thing, if they actually gave a fuck about like... music. And personal choice. And all the free fucking exposure they're denying their artists. So... they clearly have bots that can identify songs very quickly, like the whole Shazaam model, right? So... why the fuck are these companies not working directly with streaming sites, and adding in a plugin to the site's functionality where it has a whole "Now Playing" thing provided by the streaming platform, in tandem with the real-time song recognition bots that the record companies have clearly dumped their ill-gotten gains into. So when the streamer is playing a song, any fucking song, a little thing pops up that says "Now Playing" and the name of the artist, and the name of the song. And when you click on that, it brings you directly to a place where you can buy the album, support the artist, see show listings, etc. I'm coming back from my tangent, I swear, buckle up, we're swinging it back around. Why the fuck wouldn't they invest in that?! That way, streamers are - automatically, and without the need for compensation - promoting music that they love, sharing it with a potentially new audience. It's free fucking publicity. And then, the streamers don't have to look over their goddamn shoulders for LawyerBot3000 swooping in and trying to demonetize their videos, automatically mute their VoDs and risk getting their channel struck. And... here it is, I'm connecting the dots... then streamers don't have to do 6 hour art streams listening to generic copyright free elevator music.

No one should be subjected to that, that's like a form of corporal punishment. Not streamers (who are unpaid employees, but I'm not gonna get into that). Not the audience (who are paying customers... well... some of them). No one. No one should be required to play "state-approved music". That's like... fascist shit. It's fucked up. But the people with the big pockets and aggressive lawyers won. And that's the world we live in. So... that's the primary reason why I dread going back to streaming. Because if I stream my art and listen to good music, which is all I want to do... I risk getting my channel shut down. As though listening to Mars Volta, making beaded necklaces and talking to my audience is... illegal. As though it's... stealing from someone? As though it is an act that is worthy of punishment. Worthy of revoking the "privilege of a workspace", the "privilege of access to an audience". This has always struck me as... "shoot first, ask questions never", draconian, fearful, shortsighted and, most of all, not even remotely in the interest of preserving creative expression.

So... I don't know what to do now. It's deeply upsetting. Because I've really tried for a long time to do marathon streams with either no music (nearly impossible) or generic music (I literally start falling asleep and have to end stream). It just doesn't work. And all I want to do is like... put on good music, make my art, and share with people the music that I love. That was where my creative spark was born. In the living rooms of friends of mine, drawing in my sketchbook and sharing music. "I show you Atreyu, you show me Radiohead." "I show you Method Man, you show me Gojira." And later, in the studios in college, plugging the iPod into speakers, putting on a pot of coffee and painting while lying down on the floor with an endless playlist all night. Tool, Mars Volta, Tides of Man, Coheed and Cambria, The Syncope Threshold, Circa Survive, Between the Buried and Me, the list just goes on and on. I introduced so many bands to friends of mine that way, and vice versa. That's how I found The Sound of Animals Fighting, Bring Me the Horizon, Parkway Drive, SiKTh, After the Burial (one of my favorite bands of all time), the Dear Hunter, etc. etc. And now, when I watch streams - which is like... the only social interaction I have... the only music they play is the same generic copyright free muzak I listen to when I go to sleep. Or nothing at all.

It kills the exchange of music. Which is sad. Why? Money. So yeah, that blows.

I don't want to sit on this all night, I've been going for a while here, I had a big point I wanted to cover.

I dug into all that because of the whole... social thing. Social anxiety has been plaguing me for a while... and I explored that in therapy today. And it's really jostling how... quick your... ugh, I'm struggling for words... control? Need to control things? To make them perfect? In gaming, we call it min-maxing. The need to optimize, to make things the best they can be. Minimum loss, maximum gain. It's crazy how quickly and stealthily that can sneak up. And it embarrasses me sometimes, because I'm always priding myself in my spontaneity and improvisation. Well, that might be the spontaneity of... Past Me, at this point. Winters are notoriously rough for me, and being in moments of recovering from acute trauma (seems like that's the majority of the time the past few years...) as well. They do tend to make depression skyrocket. Then I get into anxious mode. And anxiety's job is to... protect, right? To keep safe? It's an alarm system to keep me notified of threats around me.

And how do I respond to that alarm system? Well, the healthy way would be... not to ignore the smoke alarm... not to assume the entire house is burning down... but to pop your head in and check, gather information. So when I'm getting into social anxiety, I'm noticing that the majority of it is kinda... bookended on either side of the interaction. Kinda like stagefright has been for me - I get super anxious before I get on stage, and I kick myself about how I "could've done better" after. But during, it's really not a huge issue. Which I think is really a blessing, it has not always been that way. But once I find the Flow, it gets really easy. Because like... I'm weird, right? So how can I fuck up "weird"? XD

Welp, min-max brain has a few things to say about that. And that's the anxiety component. "How can I maximize my odds of meeting someone who isn't a complete sociopath?", "How can I make my next social interaction easier for me, considering I've been 'out of the game' for a while?", "How can I get help from others to 'hold my hand'?" That's all preemptive, predictive shit - that's Future. That's like... neurotic scrying. <crystal ball mystic voice> "I seeee the fuuuuture, I see that I will meet someone who will be suuuuper controooolling and when I try to set healthy boundaries by asking for what I want/need politely and saying no when they cross a line they will attaaaack meeeee." </crystal ball mystic voice> And my manifestation of that thought is... "how can I prevent this certainty?" "What plan can I come up with now, to give me a safety net, or at least armor, for when this undoubtedly happens."

Now... I get why I do this. This is a very recurring trauma, it happens all the time. And it's something I really do need to work on. But like... this way of addressing it... by sitting on the bench and trying to come up with the perfect plan or something? It clearly doesn't work. And it inflates the fuck out of my anxiety. It builds up the anticipation. And what I really feel like I need to do instead, is learn how to properly recognize it in the moment when it's happening... (which it will, just probably not as often as my anxiety thinks) and I'm pretty sure I can... and then... excuse myself. Just go, "oh shit, I something came up, I gotta go." It's not a lie. What came up is "I'm not safe right now" and telling that person why I'm not safe? That puts me in danger, it provokes the bear. So... I need to remember that I always have that option in my pocket, and if the other person is really committed to reflecting on their actions and addressing that moment, I can make myself available to provide my perspective so they can work on their own shit. But I am really bad at walking away. So yeah, that's my running plan for the preemptive anxiety.

The other half, as mentioned above, is after. "Wow, I just talked to that person for like 20 minutes, I have no idea what their name is because I never remember that, and I never introduced myself, and they just left... and we didn't exchange info... and... now they're gone. Forever. Okay... Great job, champ." Like... my first week here, actually I think it was my first or second night here. I met a man in the hallways that was like... under 10 years older than me, somewhere in my age range-ish. I was like... bee-lining back to my apartment with my chinese food delivery and he was walking around the building with his two kids. And I like... passed them. And he saw the back of my hoodie - it was a Born of Osiris hoodie that I like... never wear - and he commented on it and told me he went on tour with them doing sound design. I engaged genuinely, and we connected for like 30 seconds and it was nice. And we exchanged names, and he's on the floor above me. And then we said "see you around, I guess" and I haven't seen him since. And that was like... the past 5 connections I've made were really similar. And I'm guessing it's because I haven't been on Facebook since 2016 and connecting with people on social media is just... not a habit of mine? But you know what? Shame on them! They should be more experienced with this shit! That shouldn't fall entirely on my shoulders!

See, my brain tends to go... okay, I'm gonna correct myself... my depression brain tends to go, "wow, dude, you didn't give them your Instagram handle? How are they gonna get in touch? Carrier pigeon? They don't even know what unit you're in!" The paddle immediately comes out. And the intention is self-improvement, the intention is education/learning, but the methodology is brutish. And that, my friends, that is the big fucking lesson of the day. Well, one of two. We'll start with this one. Self-compassion. Being kind and gentle to yourself, through your methods of self-improvement. Teaching your inner critic - "how could you do that?", "what were you thinking?", "you should know better" - to sound less like an outraged driver stuck in rush hour traffic... and more like - "I should try this next time", "I forgot to mention my name, I'll try to remember that next time". Like... learning from an experience rather than trying to 'teach yourself a lesson'.

I have been getting so much better lately at having my kind, gentle inner-voice come out first after things go wrong. Like "wow, I just talked to this dude in the hallway, and it was perfectly natural, that's awesome!" And the road-rager comes in second, "you forgot to say what unit you were in. How are you going to follow up on this? How did you forget that? Missed opportunity, way to blow it." No matter how good a mood I'm in, no matter how well I'm doing mental health wise, that motherfucker lives in my head every moment of every day. And I need to negotiate with him. And, begrudgingly, counter-intuitively, I need to be kind and understanding towards him. Because he's me. He's just my Depression Me. He means well. He has very keen observational skills. He's very passionately defensive. But he, like anxiety (outside of emergencies) is a passenger and consultant, not a driver. If that makes sense. He doesn't call the shots. And maintaining that hierarchy of inner-voices, and practicing that regularly, like every day... that's what's trained my congratulatory, kind, compassionate, gentle voice to come out first. I will say, it's practice that is well worth doing.

I said there were two lessons of the day. The first was addressing the narrative we use in reflecting on events, self-compassion, a focus on learning and growth rather than outrage, frustration, all that shit. The second lesson... has more to do with the temporal aspect.

See, anxiety is very fixated on Future. The 'what ifs' is what my old bandmate and I used to call anxiety. My therapist today called them the "should's" and that's a very interesting addition. Either way, temporally, it's all fixated on the future. It's attempted precognition, predictive thinking. "I saw this in the Past, and I think it's going to happen in the Future, so I should do something about it." Depression is a very different kind of beast. It doesn't really serve a practical purpose other than to just shit on you. Anxiety is very protective, depression is just like a fucking giant ball-and-chain. And depression, it seems to me, but maybe it just conveniently fits into my narrative right now... is pretty Past based. Fixated on what happened, or didn't happen, and... that's it... and "you should feel bad for that." No plan, no lesson, no growth. Just "you tripped, you're clumsy, dumbass." That's all. Real life-of-the-party, that one. So what are we missing here? Hmm?

Now. We're missing Present Mind. And this is the muscle that I am flexing right this very moment. Hi. I am Present Mind. I don't plan what I say, I don't think back to what I was going to say, I just say what I think and it comes out and that's just what it is. It's a stream of thoughts and feelings connected together and put as accurately as possible onto paper... if my damn fingers can keep up with it. I've been practicing stream-of-consciousness writing since age... 16? Something close to that? So... around 20 years. Nearly all of my music lyrics and poetry were written in pen on paper without thinking (or just thinking only about rhyme schemes and letting the words just fall into place) and without crossing out words. My primary form of musical expression is improvisation. And lately, I've been out of practice. Again, this is pretty much my only Flow practice, short of yoga, which has been great.

I need more of it. I need to break through that wall again. I feel so deeply compelled to seek that liberation. To free myself from this need to have things be the right way. To just... start. And just see where it goes. To get the water pump, and get the table, and get rocks, and just... see where it goes. Fuck a schematic. Wing it. Just... google waterproofing a bit first! You know... Like... we can improvise and be liberated and all that, but like... let's not flood the downstairs neighbors. XD

The neuron connection my therapist helped remind me of, with the Now... it brought something to my head instantly. "BE HERE NOW". It was written over and over around a circle on the cover of a book by Ram Dass that an very odd alcoholic tattooed stripper chick with large fake breasts who went by the alias "Doll Parts" gifted to me. I swear to god, you can't make this shit up. And, in hindsight, I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess this woman wasn't really using this book the way it was intended... because she was trying to seduce me while she had a young daughter and was living with someone she was dating... so... yeah... the second I found out about that dude I was in the wind. But she bought me this book first. And it is basically Ram Dass's illustrated story of his spiritual awakening, and it has a lot of stuff in the end that's like... practices and rituals and stuff. Super useful if you're into that kinda stuff. I plan on referencing it soon to find a meditative practice that I can actually integrate into my life consistently. And I just always felt like that phrase "be here now" is just... everything you need to know. The who? "you". what? "be." where? "here." when? "now." I guess all that leaves is how? And if you don't know how to just be right here, right now? Oh boy. Yep. Don't know what to say to that. But the reminder is one that wakes me up very quickly, one that speaks to me. One that I understand at a very deep level. When I see "be here now", I get it. It makes as much sense to me as "you are safe". It's like... permission to come back or something, in the way that "you are safe" is like permission to relax, it's really hard to describe.

So, I spent a big chunk of the night making art. Taking a piece of cardboard that I had left over, as I always tend to have, and making a decorative piece to hang on a wall somewhere in my house. It says in big gold letters with black outlining, "BE HERE NOW". And I'm going to just fill the damn thing with some improvised color designs. I think greens and yellows, I have never really had green play a big role in my life or works outside of camo pants, and I feel like it will pair with the gold pretty well. We'll see how it turns out.

I need to go to bed. I just really wanted to share my insights from today because I feel like they could be helpful to others. And to give myself plenty of room to expand and concretize that exploration.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of consciousness #stream of thoughts

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aava9099 · 2 years

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66666 Angel number

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66666 Angel number

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Each holy messenger number has an extraordinary importance, and numbers can help us here and there. Pay attention to the mystery message and apply it to your life if you have any desire to transform you and become more hearty than any time in recent memory.

Holy messenger Number 6666 - What Does It Mean?

Heavenly messenger number 6666 is encouraging you to recover your balance straightaway. This heavenly messenger number will come into your life with perfect timing to help you in refocusing. This heavenly messenger number will show up in your life when you start to meander excessively far from the way and caution you of the repercussions of your activities.

You might have neglected to focus on your obligations and individuals who matter in your life. Going out or investing energy doing things that aren't really great for you has now tossed your life into disorder. You apparently can't end liberated from your vices, and they're gradually yet consistently crawling on your life.

Holy messenger number 6666 is encouraging you to do everything possible to recover your life. Our heavenly messengers could never request that we do anything like this in the event that they felt we proved unable. They realize we can completely change our lives, which is the reason they are requesting that we do as such. You will take note of how your life is improving assuming that you keep on paying attention to their recommendation, and you will be thankful.

The Secret Meaning and Symbolism

The energies of numerous heavenly messenger numbers and number groupings are in many cases joined in holy messenger numbers. The powers of holy messenger numbers 6, 66, and 666 are consolidated in the number 6666. Each number conveys a secret message, and each letter is huge by its own doing. The prior you sort out what these mystery messages are, the better. So burn through no additional time and start translating.

The number six addresses harmony and congruity. This holy messenger number is showing unequivocally your expectation in your life. At the point when we start to disrupt our lives' agreement, this heavenly messenger number shows up and helps us to remember its importance. It isn't not difficult to recapture balance in our lives, however the initial step is to attempt. Start by doing little things and returning to old propensities before you accomplish the ideal result.

The number 66 is related with home and family. Your divine messengers are reprimanding you for your bad behaviors and deeds. At the point when you begin to meander excessively far from home and invest a lot of energy outside the entryway, this heavenly messenger number will show up in your life. We as a whole have numerous obligations and undertakings to finish, however our families should constantly start things out. Your relatives will be the ones in particular who will remain close by through troublesome times.

You can end up overspending on things that aren't genuinely significant. The number 666 is related with sustaining and really focusing on others. This holy messenger number aides you through utilizing your remarkable ability to help people around you in tackling their concerns. All things being equal, the heavenly messengers believe you should focus on individuals you care about. They'll constantly show up for yourself and value how you've helped them, so be their tutor and guide when circumstances become difficult.

Holy messenger Number 6666 and Love

The holy messenger number 6666 is encouraging you to focus closer on your sweetheart. Your heavenly messengers knew about your nonappearance from home and family. It is more essential to shape significant connections than it is to gather things throughout everyday life. We move cleared away by the dollar signs and neglect to focus on the extremely valuable minutes we imparted to our friends and family. It might be ideal assuming you zeroed in favoring your accomplice's necessities and less all alone.

Minutes spent together are extremely valuable and just come around once. A separation of your relationship might be one of the likely results of your nonappearance. Your accomplice won't hang tight for you endlessly, and there will constantly be another person to cause them to feel required and esteemed. Another person will get this in the event that you don't give it to your accomplice.

Numerous that are single would be reminded to ponder the ones they care about somewhat more. Their loved ones are frantic for their consideration, however they appear to be distracted with paltry issues. Assuming that you decided to disregard heavenly messenger number 6666, it would alarm you of the results of your demonstrations, which can be exceptionally outrageous.

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katsukikitten · 3 years

Text

Part one. Master list for plus one can be found here.

Just a nice fic I decided to write for fun. Please enjoy!

Asshole!

He was nothing but a huge, giant fucking ASSHOLE for the entire two years the two of you were dating and he decides NOW is a good time to break up with you?

Two days before your cousin's wedding and over TEXT MESSAGE?!

That fucking asshole.

He knew how you felt. Exactly how you felt about going alone to your cousin's wedding after your family begged to meet your boyfriend and teased you for "probably making him up." Which hell, he may as well have been made up considering how absent he was in the relationship. Using work as an excuse to come home late but forgetting to turn off his snap location when he showed up at the bar.

So you did what any rational woman in her upper twenties would do.

You drowned your sorrows in booze, tonight red wine as it was the only thing around, and you scrolled through your socials in hopes of distracting yourself from your suffering.

Alas the devil that is Instagram only amplified your sadness and irritation. Showing couple after couple, your friends on hikes kissing on the mountain top, kissing in the flickering light of candles at a fancy dinner or, worst yet, getting proposed to. The video showing her in hysterics screaming, "YES I DO I DO!"

And it feels terrible to feel this way. Especially about your friends, the people you love and want to support, still it stings. You hadn't told anyone about the breakup, you weren't even sure your friends even remembered that asshole's name.

A teardrop lands on your screen, magnifying all the magical lights of the led beneath the glad. You wipe away the tear and with that the feed refreshes. A new post has come in at the top, Res Riot's official account.

Kirishima stands with a fat white cat in his arms. He dwarfs the animal with his large stature that looks larger as he still has his Red Riot gear on. The caption reads something along the lines of "missed my precious baby."

Red wine is a dangerous thing as your body acts on its own. You go to his page to hit the little arrow to DM him. Typing out and backspacing your message as you struggle from the booze, you decide to say fuck it and use the voice memo feature. Before you know it your sniffling voice is playing back to you after you've hit send.

"My ex broke up with me before this stupid wedding. It's in two days and my family is going to roast me big time when I show up alone. They think I made that asshole up. I don't know why I'm even in your dms. Your account is probably run by some dick head who can't even capture your kindness. I guess I'm here cause my first thought seeing you on my timeline was Red Riot has always been my hero…"

Ugh totally fucking cringe.

There is no surprise as you see the three normally ominous dots pop up, probably his social media manager about to ask you to stop your "advances" as Kirishima is too busy to date and he'd hate to block you or some other bullshit.

But there it is a surprise to see a little bubble with the play button and some vertical lines in various heights. It takes your sluggish brain a moment to realize you've been sent a voice memo. Odd. Your thumb smashes the screen faster than you can think and a deep voice rumbles through the speakers of your phone.

"Actually I run my official and personal socials. And I'm sorry to hear about your ex doll. He sounds like a real ass. I'll be your hero, I'll go with you to the wedding."

Your heart stutters, no way, no way in HELL this was Red Riot. You had read about the horror stories before or pervy account managers taking advantage of women who so desperately wanted to talk to their hero.

Hell, it's happened to Dynamight plenty of times.

You swallow quickly but the bile rushes up your throat. Not just from the anxiety of a possible con but from drinking an entire bottle of wine with nothing on your stomach after months of sobriety. Quickly you stumble to the bathroom, abandoning your phone on your bed. You barely make it in time to praise the porcelain Gods before you fall onto your back. Looking up at the light in your cramped bathroom, the orb doubles and spins as you feel the Earth turning on its axis. You curl into your side using your bathmat as a pillow as you drift off into sleep, totally forgetting about the voice memo on your phone.

As you sleep peacefully on your memory foam bath rug, Kirishima settles into his nightly routine. One giant hand grabbing strands of long dark red hair into a towel while another sits snugly around his Adonis belt and the thick, black happy trail that follows up the center of his abs before spreading out onto his chest. He tosses the towel over the open door of the bathroom before sitting in his favorite armchair with phone in hand. Diamond, his beautiful white cat he rescued a few years ago, jumps onto the arm of the chair, purring loudly when Kirishima's free hand scratches her ears absentmindedly.

He chuckles to himself as he realizes exactly what he's done. Acting on a feeling instead of logic all because he heard a "damsel in distress." Starting off his rare vacation with spontaneity starting with an impromptu date with a stranger. He really isn't sure what you look like and it's obvious your handle doesn't have your real name in it, just PrincessPeach with some random numbers at the end. He takes the time to scroll through your profile. Seeing pictures of food, of many sunsets, a friend's dog that guest appears often, your own cat and plenty of strays.

It takes him a while before he sees a photo of you. His heart stutters in his chest as he looks you over. Laughing with a friend, soft lighting from strings over head that blur like little fireflies. Your smile is wide, half hidden by your hands as your eyes seem to smile with you. Sparkling as if they held stars.

For a moment Kirishima forgets how to breathe, it isn't until Diamond jumps down from the armchair does he inhale. He smiles softly to himself before he drops his towel, puts his phone on charge and promptly falls asleep in his bed.

Kirishima rises before the sun even has a chance to filter through his blinds. He sighs softly, getting up to a sitting position disturbing a fluffy white ball that lays beside him.

"Mmrow." Moon stone eyes blink slowly as they look at the mountainous man hogging the bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you sweet baby." He says softly, going to pet the soft white fur only for her to get up stretch and give him her butt before plopping back down.

"I know, mean ol' daddy woke you up too early again." He says softly, his hand falling onto her back before he rises from the bed. Fishing for his running shorts, socks, headphones and shoes. He makes his protein shake, leaning on the counter as he drinks it, looking at how you read, or better yet, listened to his message but still no reply. It was late and there was a small slurring of your words, he figures you've passed out. He just hopes you're okay.

His run goes as usual, up before anyone else unless they were the normal avid runner. Passing by the usual array of people. An old man holding onto his youth by jogging through his daily five mile morning run, Kirishima knows he runs another five in the evening while the sun is setting. He hopes he can embody some of this man's commitment when he is older. Then he passes a middle aged woman, who gives him the biggest smile as she pases, jogging backward to send him a wink before plowing ahead. Occasionally he'll see a running group or a few teens training to be heroes, they always ask if they can run his route. "It's long." He always warns in a kind, warm voice. They assure him they will be fine so far only one other person could handle his 12 mile morning run. A young woman in her second year of hero courses at UA. Since then Kirishima put in a word with his boss and so every time internships roll around she's in the office.

By the time Kirishima is rounding back towards his high rise apartment, the city begins to stir. Slowly waking as men and women in business suits rush towards the train, parents flinging open the doors or curtains fussing at their children who cling to an extra few minutes of sleep before school.

This was always his favorite part of the run, not because it was almost over, oh no it was because he had a chance to glimpse at everyday life. Of nine to fives, of school hours and after school hangs outs at snack bars or the library.

What most would call the mundane but Kirishima would never call it that. It's why he worked so hard to protect it.

Diamond greets his sweaty form at the door. Glaring angrily with her moon stone eyes. Tail swishing before she goes to the kitchen by her bowl. Waiting impatiently.

"I'm not late, sweet cheeks." He coos, and she glares, "I know I know. You're hungry now."

He opens the fridge, gets out the highest quality food there is and places it on her dish, sure to keep it all in the middle or she'll claim her bowl was empty. He added a splash of water too since the weather was starting to get hot.

He sucks down a water or two, demolishes a protein bar and then heads to the apartment gym.

A few hours roll by and without hearing from you yet his worry over your well being begins to cloud the forefront of his mind. He pauses his music, picks up his phone and talks out a voice memo.

A loud DING echoes from your room and around your skull as you rise with a throbbing headache.

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself grabbing at your head as you shakily rise to your feet. Yanking the handle of the faucet to drink from the stream before looking at yourself in the mirror.

"Ugh." You grunt ignoring your swollen face and eyes, yanking the mirror door open to snatch at the bottle of aspirin. Swallowing THREE extra strength pills before slamming the door shut and turning off the faucet. You make your way towards your bedroom, more than ready to sleep the rest of your day away. Grabbing at your phone to charge it you see the push notification of an Instagram message from Red Riot.

The fucking Red Riot.

Internally you scream before it bubbles up your throat and escapes. You fumble to unlock your phone before looking that it's a voice memo.

Mortified you realize you sent one too. And first at that.

"Fuck MEEE!" You plop onto the bed. Nervous this second voice memo is probably about how you're a weirdo or something as you relive the memory of asking him to be your plus one.

Hesitantly your thumb hovers over the play button before you find the strength to press the cool glass. A soft thunderous voice plays out.

"Good morning sleepy head. I haven't heard from you yet, I hope you're okay. Be sure to drink some water and eat something greasy. Trust me, late nights with Denki and Bakugou taught me something. Since the wedding is tomorrow I'll need a picture of your dress for the color and style so I can match you Sweet pea. Contact me soon so I can know where to pick you up."

Did he… did he just call you SWEET PEA? Your heart pounds in your chest before it registers he's asked for your dress color and lowkey asked for your address. This couldn't be real. It sounded like Kirishima, his voice familiar from interviews you've watched but it very well could be a prank. Defeated you hit the small microphone and reply.

Kirishima hears a sharp DING in his headphones over his music as he finishes his set. He wipes the sweat from his face on his shirt giving the few people in the gym a lovely view of his sweaty and thick torso. One woman trips on the treadmill but it goes unnoticed by Kirishima. He pauses his music and hits play on the little memo. Your beautiful yet groggy voice comes in through his ear buds causing Kirishima to bite his lip. It causes such a flutter of butterflies in his stomach he has to listen a second time to actually hear what you said. Although he understand, he cannot help but feel hurt by your reply.

"How do I know you're not just some pervy guy using Kirishima's Godly looks to prey on unsuspecting people."

Your phone chirps at you from the bed stand and you growl reaching for it. You had hoped your message would have been clear. An unspoken of you know they're a fucking creep taking advantage of their PR job.

"What can I do to prove it to you, Sweet Pea?"

You hate how that cute nickname sends your heart into a somersault and your stomach in delightful knots. Still your doubt pulls a harsh tut from your lips before you reply.

Kirishima doesn't need his phone to alert him that you've messaged him, he's been looking at his screen for far to long without having to restart his set. He listens to your voice as if it were music.

"Fine, you wanna prove it to me so bad. Take a picture of yourself shirtless with the word 'Sweet pea' you love so much and send it to me. No photoshop I know what my favorite hero looks like!"

For over an hour you don't hear back and you figure you showed that perv.

But now you can't sleep so you nurse a water, door dash a "greasy" breakfast all before cranking your shower as high as it can go. Your phone dings and you try to ignore it. You really do but as the saying goes curiosity killed the cat. Opening the message you see a classic guy mirror selfie. Kirishima is clear as day in the photo, his large hand pointing to his bare, hairy chest where sweat pea is scrawled in his adorable handwriting. He winks at the camera as his kissable lips wear a dangerous, almost cocky eyes travel down his bulk following his happy trail that dives under a pair of black shorts, the best part of the view getting cut off by the vanity. At first you try to rationalize that this was fake but damning evidence was sitting on the vanity. A fluffy white cat in a diamond and ruby encrusted collar sits on the counter giving her owner an odd look.

His cat Diamond that everyone knows he loves and adores. Slick begins to collect between your thighs and especially so after you listen to the voice memo that comes through shortly after. His normally friendly and soft voice comes out a bit dark, husky as he says in a playfully annoyed tone.

"Now send me a picture of that dress, Sweet Pea."

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha x reader

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nebulousfishgills · 3 years

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In Reality

Request by @nosfera1 : hiiiii is your request open? i was wondering if i could ask for an angsty wanda x fem!r fic where they've been in a relationship for a year and r is absolutely head over heels with her. r planned their anniversary date and during that dinner wanda confesses that she's only been dating r to move on from her previous relationship the whole time and cant carry it in her conscience anymore? make it reaaally really heart wrenching as possible please. thank youuuuu

Ah, thank you so much for sending in your request!! (Yes, requests are open lol). I'm always excited to recieve a new request, especially for a character I have yet to write for!

I hope I get this the way you want! ❤

Warnings: Angst, feels, fluff (but like, fake?)

ฯฯฯ

"Wan, are you okay?" You asked, noticing your girlfriend looking a bit uncomfortable. Her hands were in her lap, her eyes staring at the table or the wall, and she seemed like she was zoning in and out. "Wanda?"

"What? Oh, yes, dear?" She asked, jerking up from looking at the muted paisley tablecloth.

"I was wondering if you were okay." You repeated.

"Yes, I'm alright, dear. Just a little tired is all." She said, showing her teeth in a smile that almost seemed forced. You chose to ignore it.

"I was going to say, but I didn't want to be rude." You said, chuckling.

"We've been together for a year, we can tell each other anything."

"I'm glad you feel that way."

The waiter brought your dishes not long after that, the thin veil of steam curling off the top of the Italian dishes you ordered. Your glasses were refilled and parmesan was grated on top of your meals.

You started nearly scarfing down your food, the wait having been a little too long without a breadstick refill. You watched Wanda gently cut through the meatballs on the top of her pasta, dividing them into quarters. The delicate movement entranced you for a moment, a bashful smile creeping onto your face.

To say you loved Wanda would be a severe understatement. The past year you had been together was the best year of your life. Before, you had been in a slump, everything seeming sad and dreary. You had been having a particularly bad day that day, as a matter of fact. You missed the bus in the morning, so you had to walk to work. Halfway through, it started raining buckets and you had no umbrella. You were lucky your boss was so understanding, else she would have reprimanded you for sure for being late. Still, the woman signed your paychecks; staying on her good side was in your best interest.

While pondering your latest excuse for being late to work again, it suddenly stopped raining.

No, someone was holding an umbrella over you.

That someone happened to be Wanda, offering her umbrella to you to shelter from the storm. You took one look at her and it was as if the color started to soak back into your previously grey world. Not only was this woman going out of her way to help you, she was beautiful as well.

Wanda held the umbrella over your head while you both walked to where you worked (she didn't mind in the slightest; she didn't have a set destination when she started walking). You told each other a few things about yourselves to pass the time. You were working at your current job until you could afford to move to a better part of the city. The apartment you lived in currently had a lot of small problems that would pop up every now and then that would take your savings. Your dishwasher had just broken and you needed to save up to get that replaced.

Wanda told you about things in her life, too. Her brother had died a few years ago in what she called a "tragic accident." Her last relationship had ended pretty suddenly more recently, so she took frequent walks to give herself something to do.

Suddenly your dishwashers woes seemed so nominal.

You arrived at the building you worked at and Wanda bid you goodbye. Though, not before passing you a small slip of paper with a few digits on it you recognized as a phone number. You went pink and walked into your office, sending a text to Wanda as soon as you sat down. You saw each other more frequently after that, going on your first date not long after.

And here Wanda was, sitting in front of you with her steaming pasta and quarter sliced meatballs. You ate your dinners in silence to start, the only noises between you two being the scratches of utensils on plates and quiet chewing.

After a few minutes, you noticed Wanda poking at her pasta with her fork. She hadn't eaten very much. Her chin rested on her other hand, the food on her plate starting to cool down.

"Wan, are you sure you're okay?" You asked. "You've barely eaten anything."

"I'm fine..." Wanda replied, letting out an exhale as if she were holding her breath. She put the fork down and rested her hand on the table.

"Wanda, it's okay. If something's bothering you, you can tell me." You said, resting your hand on top of hers. She took it, rolling your fingers in hers. She pulled her hand back and rested it in her lap, her other hand following suit. She took a breath.

"Y/N, can I tell you something?" She asked.

"Anything, Wan." You said. Wanda took in another breath and looked you in the eyes. That's how you knew she was getting dead serious with you.

"This isn't easy but... I can't keep holding it in. I can't do this anymore." She said.

"Can't do what?"

"This." She wagged her finger in between the two of you. Your breath hitched in your throat.

"What do you mean? You can't do--?" You asked, your voice cracking slightly.

"No, I can't." Wanda cut in. "Listen, Y/N, I'm telling you this now so I don't hurt you worse later on. I can't keep stringing you along."

"'Stringing me along?' Wanda, I don't understand. Don't you love me?"

"I... I... No. It's just..." Wanda bit her lip and averted her gaze from you.

"Just what? Something I did? What did I do, Wanda?"

"Nothing! You did nothing! It's not you, Y/N, it's just..."

"Wanda, are you joking? One year, Wanda! This is our one year anniversary and you're telling me this now??" You asked, the tears streaming down your face through your anger.

"I know, it's not ideal, but I couldn't find time to tell you before!"

"Couldn't? Or wouldn't? You're telling me you lied to me for a year, Wanda. Why?"

"Because I needed a distraction, okay? My last relationship ended badly and I was having a hard time getting over it. I thought you would... provide support until I could get back on my feet." Wanda admitted. Your face got hotter as the realization sunk in. Your voice got low as you continued speaking.

"You used me? You dated me to get over someone else? Is that all I was to you? Just a distraction? A plaything?" You growled.

"Y/N, you don't understand--"

"Oh, no, I understand plenty, Wanda." You stood up from your seat, throwing on your jacket and grabbing your handbag. You looked at the half empty water glass at your seat and picked it up. You examined the water inside for a moment, looking at Wanda over the rim. "I'd throw the water in your face right about now, but unlike you, I have standards on how people should be treated. Like a person with feelings and not something you use to play pretend with."

You downed the rest of the water and put the glass back on the table.

"Y/N--" Wanda said weakly, but you cut her off with a pinch of your fingers.

"Not another word, Wanda." You snapped, before turning around to walk away. "Don't even try to call me."

You burst out of the restaurant and sat down on one of the stone benches out front. You sent a quick text to your friend asking for a ride home, sending the address. Wanda had driven you here.

"What happened to your date?" Your friend asked.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Alright. I'm on my way."

You shut off your phone and stared up at the sky. Not a moment later, thunder rumbled above you and it started to rain.

You had no umbrella to cover you.

Finally, you allowed yourself to cry, your tears mixing with the rainwater that dripped onto your face. You let everything out, all the anger and sorrow until your throat went raw.

The headlights of your friend's car pierced through the wall of rain. You stood up and ran over, climbing inside of the heated car. You let out a sigh and leaned back against the seat.

"You okay?" Your friend asked. You didn't reply, just turned to look out the window, the raindrops gliding down it. As the car started pulling away, someone ran outside of the restaurant, screaming your name.

Wanda.

You looked at her as your friend pulled out of the parking lot. Wanda caught sight of you inside the car, watching you leave. You just stared back at her coldly as your friend whisked you away back home.

As soon as you got back to your apartment, you blocked Wanda's number and collapsed onto your sofa. Tears leaked down your face as you fell asleep.

ฯฯฯ

Hope you enjoyed this, nosfera!

As always, requests are open, so send them in!

#marvel #movies #avengers #wanda maximov #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximov x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #female reader #wanda x fem!reader #fishgills writing #writing request #my inbox is open

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evertyun · 3 years

Text

OPPOSITE ATTRACTION - ♯kang taehyun [ 1 ]

[ 1 ] — what goes on

PAIRING : kang taehyun x reader

GENRE : college au! fluff, maybe angst like 2%

"y/n, im a visionary not a dreamer, and if i want you, i want you"

"i am sorry but what??" you replied in utter shock unable to process what is going on right now.

"do you not understand?" taehyun pushed his brows together looking at you waiting for a reply knowing too damn well you are in all girls dream right now, if anyone of them witness this, you could lost your life on sight right here.

"i-i... i think luna is calling me! bye!" you panicked and ran off leaving the poor boy standing there after confessing to you.

you ran off straight to the girls washroom and look in the mirror quickly touching both your cheeks, no way this is happening, the kang taehyun yes kang taehyun just straight up said he wants you?

the next morning you treated the day as normal, of course not forgetting what happened yesterday, you went straight to your locker to get ready for first period.

"y/n!" you turned to where the voice came from, to see a girl linking arms with a tall black haired boy like drunk mates

"luna! morning, and who is that?" you asked seeing a new face not so familiar at all.

"oh him? that's beomgyu, we are part time colleagues unbelievable!" luna snorted out laughing and beomgyu greeted a small hello, being cheeky as usual he wink at you

"we getting some coffee and milk before heading to class wanna tag along?" luna asked you, while you were just packing and closing your locker door, agreeing like what could go wrong getting a morning beverage.

you were so wrong.

"tyun, strawberry milk in the morning again?" beomgyu coos out

"stop babying me before i make sure you can't speak again." taehyun turn and hissed at the slightly taller boy and to make eye contact with you

panicked you just nervously laugh "oh morning!" you smile and raising one hand slightly up at him

"morning y/n" he greeted back slightly smiling, and you swear to yourself that's the first time taehyun ever smile kinda at you? or you've seen

"woah woah woah am i missing something? l/n y/n" luna jokingly teases

"a whole season of penthouse 3" you replied jokingly giving your signature meme smile that got beomgyu laughing out loud.

after getting your drink, you notice taehyun wasn't with you all anymore, he must have left for his class. when you turn to your right you noticed taehyun was with yeonjun the school soccer team captain.

of course they have a match coming up too.

the bell ring signing its time for class as everyone disperse to their class, when walking to class walking up the stairs to class when you felt a tug causing you to turn to meet with the cherry headed boy.

you suck in all your breath

"t-taehyun h-hi?" you clearly are trying to hold in your emotion and laughter because what in tarnation is going on right now

"i hope you could watch the match today... even if sunghoon isn't in the line up" he said holding an eye contact with you

"i can try!" you replied getting ready to escape this unwanted attention you know you're getting from some girls right here and now. but he didn't let you go yet

"just think about what i said, there's no rush really, but yea have a good day" he said before walking off in a different direction, you know for sure you are embarrassed to even do anything right now

walking to class now you're just thinking, what kind of mess you got yourself into. you never had any memories with taehyun that's for sure besides the fact you both were in the same school since kindergarten til now.

what's more was the way both of you are built differently, personality wise. deep down you don't know what taehyun is feeling but you know for sure you don't feel the same, mainly because sunghoon the love of your life (self proclaimed) exist.

classes was okay besides the fact you keep wondering off thinking about what taehyun said, sure he is nice and all but no way you would like a stone, worst of all the man of every girls dream? just no, but you didn't have plan to turn him down because you're shy and scared to reject someone

noon came fast as you decided that maybe you should just go watch the match, i mean what could go wrong, although it means there's no sunghoon to look at but a cherry headed boy, how bad could it be. you left your class and look out the window from the fourth level, directly towards the field you could see everyone stretching and practicing, your eyes wonder to finally stop and follow a cherry headed boy jogging in circle next to the so familiar just met today beomgyu.

"oh who you looking at now sugar boo" you turn so quickly to be facing your best friend luna, denying with the "no one in particular" answer she just laughed off

"can't be sunghoon since he went for debate so, is it perhaps lover boy yeonjun?" luna teases as usual and there you go back to your insult

"yeonjun? seriously, i in no way would look at that flirty cheesy vicenzo boy" you said out loud with your whole chest causing luna to crack out loud "you mean casanova, not vicenzo" she couldn't stop laughing causing your cheeks to turn full on red from your mistake.

4pm came by fast, which means it was the soccer match, you decided to just go and watch, walking towards an empty spot at the spectator area, you sat at the empty spot at the back along with your bag and a bottle of soda.

the players came out greeting each other before starting the match, and you got to admit this was your first time watching a match sunghoon is not playing and looking at someone else, you felt ad though you were cheating on sunghoon. just embarrassing.

the match started, your focus was on taehyun after all he invited you to watch the match in a sense, seeing him kicking the ball and passing, god he was good and how come you didn't know of sooner. his stamina and physique was perfect although he seems kind of short. he was no joke a good player, you cheered unknowingly when he scored and you swore you felt his eyes on you after celebrating his score.

the matches end not long, the team won with a 2-1, a great match indeed, you decided to wait until everyone leave before you take your leave but no, you should have left first because what happened next, is what's going to ruin you for the next few days.

you sat there drinking all your soda before living the field, when you heard a few girls talking, sounding like praises towards a familiar name, when you finally take your attention to where all the talking was from you were greeted with a red headed boy bending down to your eye level blinking.

your cheek turned red immediately, you mumbled a hi, hoping it doesn't make the situation awkward, but no you could feel a few pairs of eyes watching you right now, and it doesnt feel friendly either.

"hey, i didn't think you would show up since sunghoon isn't here" he said

no way he knows?!?!

"w-what do you mean sunghoon ha ha nah i came because you asked you know, friendly support in a way right yea ha ha yea ha ha" you replied and that was your most awkward experience in your entire life

"well if you say so, but thanks that score was for you anyways" he said sounding emotionless before standing up from his bending position, you kept looking at him, until he gave you a pat on your head and smile slightly "get home safe, bye," his final words before leaving, going back to the team

"no fucking way..." you mumbled to yourself, the way you froze through whatever he said. kang taehyun impact is real. when you heard someone calling your name, a hazel medium length hair girl standing next to you with her sunglasses on her head, looking utterly shocked. it was none other than the one and only hyewon

"y/n since when were you and tyun close even" hyewon asked crossing her arm and god you swear you didn't want anything to do with her right now but hope she leaves you alone for good. but nope you pretended to be deaf and decided to walk away as she grab your wrist.

"i am asking you a question?" she said with a stern voice, turning to look at her your reply was simple yet unsure mainly because you wouldn't want to go through hell caused by her "and i chose not to answer?" you simply replied and left.

on your way home, you dropped by the near by tteobokki shop you have your dinner, while scrolling through tiktok and your instagram feed, to land on sunghoon post. your heart did a flip, the way you felt guilty for watching a match he didn't play, and luna would laugh if she finds out as well. now you're stressed not from your depressing grades but also how to sort your crush feelings for sunghoon and reject taehyun.

by the time you reach home it was late and you decided to take a shower and just head to sleep early since tomorrow there will be morning class might as well. you switch off the light and lay down on your bed, setting the alarm on your phone, before closing and going off to sleep suddenly you received a call from an unknown number.

you picked up hesitantly, and answered a tiny hello, then voice on the other line seems calm, "is this y/n" the person spoke, the familiar voice you swore you recalled somewhere. "y-yea?" you replied. a sudden pause on the other line, and you feel like shitting your pants, "it's taehyu-"

you panicked so fast and ended the call by accident.

a/n : no this is so bad but its the best my brain stopped but ,, in advance if i drop this series its because i feel like its going nowhere or something ;-; also english is not my first language so sorry for bad grammar and words

#txt #txt scenarios #txt fanfic #txt ff #txt imagines #txt x reader #taehyun scenarios #taehyun x reader #taehyun imagines

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edie-baby · 3 years

Text

baby girls - chapter two | lando norris

Chapter Two: Perhaps

summary: What's the best way to tell the guy you like that you have a kid? Well, lying about it and making him think you're cheating isn't the best tactic, Mila's about to find that out the hard way.

word count: 1650

warnings: swearing, absentee father (the asshole ex has evolved)

last chapter

Dreaming of a perfect man while on a perfect vacation in the perfect scenery was, well, perfect. Until the dream ended, and Mila was forced back into reality by the wails of her daughter coming from the next room, the heartbreaking sound kicked Mila’s motherly instincts into high gear, her sleep-addled brain coming into a laser sharp focus within a split second.

“Hey baby girl, what’s going on?” Mila spoke, scooping Mahri into her arms with practiced ease. Mahri’s sobs quieted almost instantaneously, her tears still tracking down her face with a vengeance. Mila tried wiping the tears away, but they were replaced just as quickly.

“It’s okay, just breathe bubs. Whatever’s making you upset, we can fix. It’s all good.” Mila whispered, bouncing Mahri around the room as it had calmed her down when she was just a baby.

“I want Daddy.” Mahri cried, and Mila could have collapsed at the weight of the words the toddler had said. There was a large hole in both of their lives in the exact shape and size of Mahri’s father. Once high school sweethearts, now sworn enemies.

As much as Mila tried to block out all thoughts and feelings related to Mahri’s dad, she couldn’t blame the kid for missing a man Mila herself found missing sometimes. Matyas was Mila’s first love, her boyfriend since 8th grade, and her best friend since kindergarten. They had grown up side by side, acknowledging they had crushes on each other in their second year of high school, and having a baby together by the second last.

Matyas and Mila, contrary to most’s predictions, had stayed together through her pregnancy, and even for a while after Mahri was born. Matyas would bring all of Mila’s schoolwork home and help her work through assessments while she was pregnant, and once Mahri was born, they alternated taking days off school to babysit when members of their family couldn’t.

But something Mila had never admitted to others was that Matyas was an asshole, only kicking into higher gear once they had both finished school. Mila had an acceptance letter for university and a part time job lined up, whilst Matyas hadn’t even bothered looking, preferring to use the excuse of ‘I have a child’ to stop him from venturing into the adult world. Despite this, cooking, cleaning, and looking after the baby was Mila’s job, obviously because she was the woman, the mother.

When Mila finally decided to end her toxic relationship with her lifelong best friend, she was villainized for it. Her parents and friends blamed her for tearing her own family apart, whilst her older siblings were more than supportive, having accidentally witnessed Matyas’ less than desirable traits. Up until about six months ago, Matyas would visit regularly, taking Mahri for her swimming classes, and playing with her at the park, occasionally taking her for the day to save Mila some money on daycare.

However, much like any tale of a teenager, Matyas was single and lonely, and a barrier to being in a relationship was the fact that he had become a father at seventeen. It wasn’t exactly a big check mark next to his name, so when he had told Mila he needed to move on, find someone special, she didn’t anticipate that meant moving on from his daughter. Six months with no contact was the longest Mahri had ever gone without seeing her father, and it was the longest Mila had ever gone without seeing him. Mila didn’t have the heart to tell Mahri, who looked at Matyas as though he hung the stars, that her father wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Yet as the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to months, Mahri’s cries for her dad became all the more heartbreaking.

“I know, baby girl. But he’s on holiday, remember? He’s having lots of fun in Limbo.” Mila lied, continuing to rock her daughter in her arms, heart feeling heavy as stone at the blatant lies she was forced to tell her daughter just because her ex-boyfriend was a coward.

“I want a new daddy.” Mahri whispered, giving up on keeping her head up, preferring to let it fall heavily onto her mum’s shoulder. Mila couldn’t help but chuckle silently, the unfiltered, mumbled by age, words that her daughter came out with sometimes were what kept Mila going. With a few more bounces, Mila was sure her daughter had fallen back into a deep slumber and moved to lay her back in the small bed, covered with pillows, blankets and stuffed animals.

Mahri’s words echoed in Mila’s head, and as she reached for her phone to send yet another unanswered text to Matyas, Lando’s face appeared on her screen, an incoming FaceTime call that was as daunting as it was exciting. Mila looked over her shoulder, listening for any movement from Mahri before she answered the call, setting her phone against the toaster on the kitchen counter as she began brewing some coffee. It was nearing five in the morning, and knowing she would be usually waking up in an hour and a half meant it was going to be a caffeine fueled day.

“Hey baby boy.” Mila spoke a moment after the call had connected, looking down at the phone to see Lando’s tired face, snuggled up in bed with a small smile on his face. His smile only growing when he heard the fond nickname fall from Mila’s lips.

“Hi love. Why are you making coffee? It’s so late.” Lando mumbled, squinting to get a better look at what Mila was doing in front of him. His eyes devoured her figure, a large tshirt covering the tops of her thighs, and from what he could see, or lack thereof, she wasn’t wearing pants.

“Actually, it’s early. It’s a bit past five at the moment.” Mila replied, giggling at the way Lando seemed entranced by the view of her bare skin, smiling fondly when he snapped out of the trance at the sound of her joy.

“What the fuck are you doing up so early?” Lando almost shrieked, the volume of it causing Mila to startle forward, pressing incessantly at the buttons on her phone to lower the sound, checking over her shoulder paranoid that the gorgeous Brit had woken her barely sleeping baby.

“Oh, sorry. Do you have someone over?” Lando mumbled, looking crestfallen as he recognised the anxious look on Mila’s face. He couldn’t have been so naive to think that a woman as gorgeous as her wouldn’t have company on a Friday night - Saturday morning for her - and it had been about four days since they had spoken, he should have known.

“Uh, kind of. But no, but yes. Fuck.” Mila cursed, trying to find the right way to tell Lando that, yes, indeed she was worried he had woken someone up, but no, it wasn’t the kind of someone he was thinking of. She watched as Lando gulped, his mind spiralling with images of Mila with someone else, and although he had seen it in Austria, it hurt to know that their week together hadn’t meant as much to her as it did him.

“That’s alright. I’ll, um, let you get back to that, I guess. I’m sorry I called.” Lando muttered, moving to end the call when Mila panicked, the thought of hurting the man she was falling in love with had overridden her fears of him freaking out over the fact that she came with a lot more baggage than initially thought.

“I’ll call you later, baby boy, I promise. I want to talk to you, now just isn’t really a good time. I’m sorry.” Mila’s voice was trembling, she could see Lando’s want to get out of the conversation and never speak to her again, and it was the very last thing she wanted.

“It’s fine, you have your own life. We’ll talk soon. Bye.” Lando finished, his voice curt and clipped, but Mila could very clearly see the hurt hidden beneath the thin veil. She felt a piece of her heart break at the sight, knowing she was not only lying to him, but also causing him pain whilst she did so made her question whether it was really worth it hiding the little ball of energy in the next room.

Before Mila could reply, the call cut out, and she was left staring at the photo of herself, Victoria, and the twitch quartet on her lockscreen, something she had changed to remind herself of the amazing week she spent with some new lifelong friends.

Mila unlocked her phone, desperate to get away from the look she and Lando gave each other, preferring to admire her home screen, a photo from hers and Mahri’s most recent adventure to the park, Mahri laughing her ass off at Mila, who was very scaredly looking at the flock of geese running toward them while she took the photo.

Of course she had to give birth to a sadist, and if she was honest, she’d take that over the obvious masochistic trait she had been born with. The conversation with Lando replayed in her mind a million times, part of her wondering why she couldn’t just own the fuck up and tell him she had a kid. It wasn’t like she was telling him she wanted kids with him, or that he already had a kid, fuck if he didn’t want to, she probably wouldn’t introduce him to Mahri for years.

Yes, Mahri was her number one priority, but she couldn’t live her entire life for her child. She was nineteen, a gorgeous woman, and she deserved to be loved. Perhaps she could live her life with her child, and perhaps with someone else too.

But after today? She wasn’t sure she’d get the chance to even try.

#lando norris #Lando Norris fluff #Lando Norris fanfiction #Lando Norris fanfic #Lando Norris x oc #Lando Norris imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #ln4

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th3-z0diac · 3 years

Text

How I Make Aesthetics.

Long post ahead, sorry :(

In the past, I've been asked multiple times how I create my aesthetics and where do I get the best pictures for them, so I figured I'd make this master post of what exactly I do. Btw this is coming from a person who has studied graphic design for 4 years and had about 4 years of experience in making zodiac collages here on tumblr. Do what you want with that information.

A few disclaimers

There are different types of aesthetics and in this post, I'm going to be specifically talking about a certain type that I like to make. Here, examples:

My most used format is 6 pictures in 3 rows, but I've also tried 4 pictures, like here for example:

There are other types such as minimalistic photos, dark academia, grunge, and SO many more. Please keep in mind that I'm not hating on these types and when I mention a rule such as don't use photos that are too minimalistic, I am not saying that minimalistic aesthetics are wrong or ugly or anything of that sort!

Just because I don't choose a certain photo doesn't mean I don't like it, it just means that the photo is not exactly what I'm looking for. By me showing you the examples below, I'm just trying to paint a picture. No hate here, okay?

I don't own any of the pictures I use (I've only used like one or two of my own photos in the past) but then again this is just for entertainment, I don't make money doing this or anything. If I ever get a message from an owner of any of these photos and they want me to delete it, I will delete it.

Where to get the photos

Pinterest! Period. AHAHAHA

No but seriously, pinterest and tumblr are my two favorite sources and you will find pretty much exactly what you need there. pinterest specifically.

On tumblr, I usually search for hipster, grunge, indie, and nature, but it also helps to just find specific blogs that focus on photography, follow them and then just download anything from your dashboard that you fancy.

I'll share what I search for on pinterest below👇. My secret tip would be to not always go for the first photo you find but rather to open a picture that sorta has what you like in it and then scroll down, because pinterest is going to recommend you similar, sometimes better fitting photos. On tumblr, I sometimes go to the blog of the person whose one photo I like, and there I tend to find many more of the same kind (since these bloggers usually post a specific kind of aesthetic).

How to choose photos

My number one tip would be to seek texture. Avoid photos that have little going on in them and anything too empty or minimalistic (unless that's what you're aiming for, obviously). Also, don't choose pictures that are very light or very dark, as they tend to stand out in aesthetics and that's not really what you want. At least in the type of aesthetics that I make, I want the final product to be almost a new picture in itself if that makes sense. To show you an example, look at this photo of two sleeping cats:

This photo seems like a good fit; it is well balanced in colours (there are shades of white, beige/ginger as well as some greens) and c'mon, it's two cats, what more do you need!!! However, let's look at it in a complete aesthetic:

While this aesthetic has a nice color scheme to it (well, it doesn't, I threw it together super quickly, but you get the gist), the photo of the two cats just stands out because the khaki background creates this kind of block of color that your eye will automatically go to and it sort of breaks the collage apart. So, by texture, I mean that a picture is filled, for example with trees, flowers, architecture, little people in the background, etc., etc. Furthermore, I prefer when there are more things photographed (for instance, look at the first picture of the aesthetic above; it has a mirror (and a tiny person in it), architecture and leaves all in one picture)

Next, personality. Go to Google Images and search 'Nature Photography' or 'Sunset Photos'. You might get something like this:

Or this:

Look at this absolute angel of a boy💚💚💚💚💚💚Isn't he the cutest freaking thing you've ever seen?????? I just want to give him all the treats and all the pets and — ...ehm, sorry, that's not why we're here.

So I don't quite know how to explain this point, but I guess usually professional photos like this are just so well done that they work perfectly well on their own and you usually don't put them in a set (only with other photos from the same photoshoot maybe). They're obviously well-balanced color-wise and high in quality, but they're just very individual and don't really need any addition in the form of other photos. This point also applies to the previous one (textures, in case you forgot); for example, a bunch of blueberries creates a nice texture, however it might be difficult to pair them with other photos. They have enough personality on their own (and this is not meant in a bad way to the photos I do use).

Related to this, you're looking for a story. Usually, if a photo gives off a certain vibe, tells a story, or just leaves any kind of strong impression, it might be a good indication that this is a good photo to use (given all the other rules as well, of course).

The main themes I search for are:

cities, villages, or abandoned places

related to that — architecture or only parts (details) of it

nature, specifically forests with either road or a body of water nearby, beaches, deserts and so on. plus points for tiny people in the distance

animals, usually with the addition of maybe the texture of a sweater sleeve or some blankets, something of that sort

people, my favorite kind is people turned away from the camera with an interesting background, because by them not having a face, they become a bit more relatable in a sense?

people in a river or some kind of water

museums, sculptures

etc.

Usually, I tend to avoid:

photos with text in it (though as an exception I would mention neon signs or letters/words that are for example above shops, on books, etc.)

heavily filtered pictures

photos with very specific (often bold) colors in them, unless you find multiple photos with that same shade. this again distracts the eye too much

GIFs, animated pictures, illustrations/drawings. also, don't use collages (cause you are creating a collage, duh)

black & white pictures

blurred pictures (or those that are purposely grainy — that goes back to the filters above)

anything obviously photoshopped

When trying to figure out where to put each photo

Squint your eyes. The photos should create a nice harmony, there shouldn't be a corner where it gets too light or dark or where some textures blend together, for example, if using multiple flower patterns, try to place them in different corners.

When to know your aesthetic is done

Actually even before you start, you should be in the mood. I have to admit, there have been times where I've felt pressured into making aesthetics, and now, looking back at them, I'm really ashamed of them. That is why I don't always post aesthetics as soon as I get them requested because I genuinely want them to look good.

Sometimes, it helps to not post the aesthetic straight away but to come back to it later with a fresh look. I'd say go with your gut. You should have a good, satisfying feeling about the aesthetic.

Last note

Rules are meant to be broken. Look at the aesthetic below. I used a minimalistic illustration (two birds with one stone I guess) (and admittedly, that one picture does stand out) and yet the aesthetic still came out pretty nice. So, just play around with your ideas and see what you like the most! I'm just a random person on the internet, you literally don't have to listen to any of the tips I gave you here today.

I know this might seem like a lot (honestly, if you've read this entire thing, you're crazy), but it gets easier and easier with practice, soon you won't even think about it.

Hopefully these tips will help you and please let me know if you decide to make any aesthetics. I would love to see them!! <3

#does anyone even care #this post makes me feel like i forgot how to write in english #also #i was thinking we might do this thing where I like... rate your aesthetics?#idk am I being too confident LMAOOOO #oh well #aesthetic #aesthetics #aesthetic masterpost #masterpost #how to #how i create aesthetics #how to create an aessthetic #aesthetic tips #aesthetic advice #collage #collage art #zodiac #astrology

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shelby-love · 3 years

Text

MATT CASEY

Hatred and fatherly love.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warning(s): none

Author's note: I had a lot of fun with this one. I'm still thinking about whether or not I should just keep the ending as it is or make a part two where (as requested) they fall for each other. But if I'm being honest I kind of dig feisty Y/N that stands her ground.

PART // 2 //

MASTERLIST

"Justin what you did was wrong," You fumed, handing him the last of your boxes to load into the truck. He took them without saying a word, letting you take out your frustration on him. "I can't believe dad would do that."

"Oh come on," Your older brother groaned. "Now you're acting like Erin."

"Damn right I am," You agreed. "Unlike dad, Erin and I want you to learn from your mistakes. Obviously, that's not gonna happen if dad keeps babying you."

"So what?" His words came out immaturely, making you punch his shoulder. "Ow! What was that for?"

"For being an asshole! That little boy is paralysed from the waist down because of you!"

"You're overreacting."

"You know what, I give up." Your hands curled around the car doors before they released when you shut the door closed. Anger took permanent residence in your chest.

You shot your brother a glare before jumping into your car. "Thanks for helping me pack."

And with that you sped off to your new home.

***

The apartment complex you moved to was considered to be a jackpot. With that being said, if there was one thing that you liked about having Hank Voight as your father, it was the very comfortable lifestyle you could afford with just your name.

Of course, you were mad at your father right now. What he did to get your immature brother out of trouble was all kinds of wrong, and you didn't support it at all.

"Do you need help with that?" A cool voice told you in passing. You had your hands filled with boxes, and you could barely register what was in front of you.

Before you could say anything hands were already easing the weight in your arms. You smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of your neck shyly.

"Thanks. I just moved here," You explained quickly before looking at the man who offered his help to you. He held the two boxes in his one hand, the other one free for you to take in a greet. "I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you."

"Matt Casey. You can call me Matt."

Inside, you were panicking. The firefighter who currently hated your father and brother with a passion was standing in front of you.

You smiled shakily before a voice called out. "Miss Voight. There are some papers you need to sign."

The way Matt's eyes narrowed at you looked sinister, almost as if he was ready to swallow you up in flames or maybe even leave you in a burning building to die if it ever came down to it.

You didn't know what to say, only mumbling apologies to him before scurrying over to sign some papers.

And when you came back to where Matt once stood, you found your two boxes down on the floor.

Great. My new neighbour hates my guts.

***

Over the next few days Matt and you had managed to establish a routine. You'd both see each other in the hallways very frequently but never actually greet each other. By Tuesday, you were already used to the icy glares and the feeling of being the most hated woman on earth.

You even managed to make a game out of it. What does he think I do for living, it was called. Your number one guess was that he thought you were a dirty cop. Like your father obviously.

But then again, you swore you could see his eyes linger on your legs in passing every time you wore a skirt or a dress. So yet again, another one of your guesses was that he thought you were a stripper.

As fun as it was to make games out of your non-existent relationship it hurt you to be treated in a way you didn't deserve.

The truth was - you worked as a nurse, specifically working with little children. Every day you saw their parents take down stars in order to make their little ones happy and as messed up as it sounded you saw yourself categorizing your own father with them. The only difference between them and your own father was the fact that your father did what he did to protect you in a way that some people didn't seem to find fit.

People like Matt for instance.

And while you understood both sides, you leaned toward Matt. What Justin did was awful and your mind was set in stone - he deserved time. He had to sit in a cell and feel what is like to be at the bottom before he could even begin thinking about changing for the better.

Sadly that's not what happened.

As you walked back to your new apartment the bags under your eyes became more evident. You had lost a patient today. A little baby girl lost to cancer in a battle called life. It left a mark at your heart, and her smiling face was still misty in your mind.

Your eyes spotted Matt who strode down the hallway dressed in a simple button up and jeans, looking extremely handsome.

You couldn't really blame yourself for ogling him. No matter what you told yourself, Matt Casey was still the type of man that had you on your knees.

His eyes returned to his usual glare and while normally you weren't affected by that, today his eyes were the last straw.

Your lip started to tremble, while your eyes were filling with moisture and hands were aggressively stuffed in your purse in a frantic search for your keys.

Matt's face immediately softened but before he could reach you, you had jumped inside and locked the door behind you.

Exhausted by life, you slowly slid down the door until your bottom had hit the dark laminate. You sobbed in a matter you thought was quiet.

But it wasn't.

Matt had pressed his ear against your door and listened closely. Your whimpers entered his ears and he felt everlasting guilt consume him. Did he do this?

He decided then and there that he was going to let go of his prejudice and make things right between you two.

***

Once the sun came out you realized that you were obligated to wake up and start your new date. Just like every time, you pretended to turn over a clean sheet and start your day as your best self.

Your morning routine passed rather quickly. Pretty soon you were sat in your new colorful armchair with tea in your hand and a magazine in the other.

You, just like many others, learnt how to leave your days work in your uniform. Last night being an exception. Once you put that blue uniform back on you were sure to welcome back the dark feelings, but until then, you enjoyed the feeling your silky pyjamas provided.

Your phone rang, and you reached out to answer it. One look at the phone had your face scrunched in distaste, "Yes Justin? How may I be of help today?"

If your brother noticed the sarcasm then he sure did a good job concealing it. Monotonously he greeted you back, "Can't I just call my favourite sister to see how she's doing?"

Rolling your eyes you trekked to your room to change, "Make it quick. I have to go to work."

"Dad's in jail."

"What?" You stopped in your tracks, hardly believing what's happening.

"You know dad." He said, "Don't worry sis. He'll be out in no time."

"This isn't funny Justin," You scolded, throwing a dark purple shirt over your head while your phone sat on your vanity, Justin on full volume speaker.

"Well... I thought you should know."

And with that he hung up.

Annoyed beyond words you grabbed the phone and threw it on your bed. It landed on your creamy sheets safely as you wrestled your jeans.

After that spectacle you grabbed your bag and stormed outside only to clash into something strong.

"Shoot I'm sorry-" You hastily apologized. Your hair was all over the place and you barely had enough time to collect your strands of hair behind your ear before looking at the person you had assaulted with your clumsiness not even twenty seconds earlier.

Matt Casey.

Oh how the stars aligned for you two.

"You." You spit.

He raised a blonde eyebrow at you as if saying that you had no audacity to say anything remotely accusing to him.

"Me?"

"Yes you!" You stomped your heeled boot like a child. "My dad's in jail because of you!"

It was like a switch was turned in his head. Matt took a menacing step closer. "Because of me? He did that to himself when he sent someone to kill me!"

"K-kill you?" You whispered, almost inaudible for him to hear. Suddenly your own words worked against you.

"Just because I wouldn't pull back my report." He explained to you. "And I'm glad I didn't. Your bastard of a brother deserves it for what he did."

You fully agreed with him but the emotions that bubbled inside you came to a boiling point. You could no longer hold back, and so you took a deep breath and spoke. "You think I support him? He got that little boy paralysed and you have the audacity to think I would support someone like that? He may be my older brother but that doesn't mean he has my love and support. I'm the first one in line when it comes to saying he needs to do time."

Your words were getting through to him, you could see it. "And as for my dad... He has his own issues, I admit. But there's one thing you need to know about him: he would do anything for his kids. And I mean it. He might be a dirty cop to you, but he's my father. Justin's too. Don't blame him for thinking that his son is able to change, because I'm damn sure you would do the same if you were in his shoes."

And with that you stormed off to see your father and give him a piece of your mind too.

MASTERLIST

#matt casey x reader #matt casey fanfiction #matt casey imagine #matt casey #chicago fire fanfictio #chicago fire #chicago fire fanfiction #chicago fire imagine #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd

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beautifulterriblequeen · 3 years

Text

The Thief and the Tinker, Part 4: Circles and Cycles

part 3

Part 4

Viren: *smirks and plinks Runaan's coin to Ethari*

Ethari, furious: You throw another Moonshadow at me and I'm gonna lose it.

Circles and Cycles

Angst rating: 8/10

Back to Ethari, because we're not done with him yet. Ethari is soft, but he isn't weak. He won't be a willing pawn for Viren. He loves Runaan to the point of invention, and his devotion is more constant than the moon itself. He'll agree to do what Viren says, and he'll be Very Sad. But his spirit is in no way broken. Viren bribing him with the coins containing his family will only have the opposite effect. It'll give Ethari something to fight for.

We could get Focused Chaos Ethari. We could get Angery Trickster Ethari. We could get Rules, What Rules? Ethari. Let him try to steal the coins, try to break them, try to kill Viren, and be stymied at every turn, until he settles and seems cowed. And then all he does is craft his way out of the problem.

What if we are gifted with Iron Man Elf Ethari, who pretends to build a fake Key for Viren, but meanwhile he's really building a coinbuster with whatever he can get his hands on - primal stones, magically imbued gemstones, stolen artifacts, his own arcanum, his own reputation as the Master Craftsman of the Silvergrove. He'll use almost - almost - anything, to stop Viren and free his family.

Ethari may have to choose between those two things, though. And he's a hero, deep down, just like his family, just like his daughter. If he has to choose, he'll choose to stop Viren and save Xadia. He'll pay the same price as his family has if he must.

He'd let Viren think he was motivated purely by wanting his family back, but Ethari is far too steeped in the illusion and sacrifice for that to be all there is to his motives. It's a so-close-and-yet-so-far thing, how he and Viren almost embody the same ideals. Almost. Ethari would take one look at Viren, who just burnt down his whole Forest, he'd see the biggest threat in Xadia, and he'd say anything to get a chance to stop this juggernaut of destruction from getting his hands on whatever that ultimate power really is, locked behind that missing key. If he has to abandon his people and bawl his eyes out to convince Viren he's in, then he will.

And Viren wouldn't make it easy for him. He knows clever when he sees it. He went through all this trouble to persuade Ethari to work with him. He would need to keep Ethari as off-balance as possible to ensure that he keeps working as he should.

Angsty jewelry, anyone?

Viren giving Ethari his husband in pendant form to remind him what he's working for, when Viren and Ethari both know full well that only dark magic can open the hellcoins. Ethari wearing another pendant of his love, except it's not a metaphor this time. It's literally his love, in a coin around his neck.

Viren would love making Ethari stay close to him of his own free will if he ever hoped to free Runaan. Making people bind themselves to you is a big power flex. Remember that TDP stream future-season teaser note about Bait being in a creepy restraint in a future season?

This card is written on in all-caps, so that really could be "Bait" or "bait," or--knowing this show--both. Viren's been using Runaan as bait for Ethari all along. Putting his coin in a dark magic pendant casing for Ethari to wear would be a great parallel for that. Oh god. Oh man.

Maybe he'll stab the coin's scary casing right through that circle on Ethari's chest, right over his heart, make that Iron Man reference really obvious. Ethari also losing his shirt at some point, for angsty Viren-related reasons? It's more likely than you think. I mean... Ethari is literally involved in both forms of forging at this point. Shirt's gotta come off for uhhhh work reasons. And because he's hot. Because of all the forging. Mmhmm. I mean how else are we finally going to discover what his markings look like this is research I swear

I mentioned that I liked god-tier villains, right? Yeah, this is amazing. I haven't wanted to die and ascend over an idea for quite a while, but Ethari vs Viren in a drawn-out battle of wills would kill me in the best way. Especially since, while it looks like they're essentially fighting for who gets Runaan, they're truly fighting a much larger battle with much higher stakes. They're fighting for the future itself. It's an epic struggle between the Narrative of Strength and the Narrative of Love. And we've seen what happens, over and over, when the Narrative of Strength gets to call the shots.

On a meta note: If Ruthari's story arc isn't a love letter from one trauma survivor to another, and on a broader scope to all survivors who see it, I don't know what is. Sometimes life just chews us up and spits us out and we can't stop it and it breaks us. But sometimes we can reach out and grasp the chance to help each other, even after that, even when it hurts a lot, because we know what it means to be loved, and to love, and to want a safer future for each other and for people we'll never meet. The future is worth standing together for, helping each other back up for, fighting side by side for, even if you can't see how it'll end, or even how to begin. We are stronger together, and sometimes we need to fight for our "together" before we can fight for anything else. And that's worth it, every time.

This is glorious, it's beautiful, it's tragic, it's amazing, it makes me want to dance, it makes me want to scream into the void, it makes me want to slap someone with a semi truck. No, someone specific, don't worry, and he super deserves it.

Because Ethari is going to win. He was always going to win. He's soft, and he's clever, and he hasn't forgotten what love means. It's what he's fighting for. Not power, not control. Love. He doesn't want to dictate Runaan's future or anyone else's. He just wants his husband--and everyone else--to have one at all.

So he's going to win.

What thwarting Viren looks like, I couldn't possibly guess. TDP is no stranger to angst, so there will probably be a high cost involved in outwitting the dark mage. Maybe not everyone can be rescued from the coins. Maybe Ethari will lose his life, or his soul, or his vision, or something else really angsty. Viren could even kill him and resurrect him as a smoky craftsman, or a zombie craftsman, or something equally biddable but horrible. The only thing I'm sure of is that Ethari would never willingly make a working Key of Aaravos Ethari as long as there's a chance Viren could possess it. But I do believe that if he gets the right opportunity while he's busy saving the world from Viren's dark intentions, he'll break his husband's hellcoin open somehow and set him free, even if he has to smile at the devil to do it.

Ethari understands the difference between "you can" and "therefore you should." He might sacrifice his own world to save his husband, but he'd never sacrifice someone else's world. That's one of the Moonshadow cultural limits I've noticed: they accept boundaries when it comes to other people's autonomous rights, especially regarding life and death.

These limits could get pushed. Ethari will be under great duress and emotional strain if he goes through this kind of interaction with Viren. And maybe he will choose some dark things. Everyone else has. But I'm placing all my eggs in the basket labeled "Saved By Love." Either I'm right, or I'll get the best angst omelets in the universe. And I do love omelets. A villain invented them, you know. ;)

Another support for Ethari not making the key for Viren: the real Key exists!

Callum has it right now. The plot doesn't need Ethari's key (yet? ever?), but it does need Ethari to learn what he's made of, to stand up for something, or against something, or both at once. And once he learns what he will and won't do and the universe has rewarded his discovery with the return of his beloved husband then Ethari will be ready to take on whatever else the plot has in mind for him.

Depending on the plan, all of these events could happen in S4, as a setup for even bigger things to follow. Viren's wishes can be thwarted here and the show's overall tension will only continue to rise. It would let Ethari flex yes pls his skills so we know who he is, it would show how driven Viren can be for a long-term goal, it would let Claudia saunter further downwards, it would reveal some human/Moonshadow history, and it would resolve the seasons-long tension regarding Runaan's fate, allowing for the cycle of speculation, feels, angst, and Ruthari fanart to begin again. ;) Viren would need to find another way to pursue his long-term goal. And Callum's Key will get a little more clarity on just how important it is to the fate of the world - which will make everything he does, and everyone he talks to, and anyone who knows what he's carrying, intensely important.

Nyx is gonna steal it isn't she, omg chaos birb

To Viren, Ethari was a main course, meant to be devoured and consumed in his lifelong quest for something that will finally satisfy. But to Ethari, Viren was just empty calories to be passed over in favor of ordering his perennial favorite dish, one more time.

Once Ethari escapes Viren's clutches with as much of his family as he can rescue, Viren may turn back to looking for the real Key, especially if someone's seen it recently. Hunting a kid probably seems easier than hunting a full-grown Moonshadow craftsman who just outsmarted him. okay so maybe Nyx stealing it would be a good thing and save Callum's life

Ethari could go on to help repair the Sunforge, or rebuild the Moonhenge, or work on constructing Moonshadow villages in Katolis if he hasn't been ghosted for abandoning everyone after the forest fire. He might build magical devices for any number of reasons, to help all kinds of characters. Hopefully, wherever he goes, he'll have Runaan with him, in some way, for at least a little while. Cycles be like, and I feel like Runaan will not want to remain still for long, for whatever reason. Does he need revenge, atonement, justice, a new body, to find Rayla, to find Ezran? He'll be back in action as soon as he can, I think.

Okay, but, I'm so soft at the thought of a scene where Runaan and Ethari come before King Ezran. The husbands tried to save their people Runaan's way, the old way, and it only continued to endanger them. Following the cycle, as Moonshadows do, was the wrong move. But the son of the last human Runaan killed reached out with mercy and broke a thousand years of suffering and sorrow and hatred. Ezran did what Runaan couldn't: he saved the Moonshadow elves from total destruction. And that, more than anything else in the world, could soften one very broody assassin's heart toward humans again.

What would Runaan do, if his heart truly changed toward humans? What would he say to Ezran? I could see him struggling for a long moment before dropping to one knee to pledge his heart as he once had to do before the Dragon Throne. He doesn't know any other way but to serve. Ezran, reading the whole room and everyone's feelings before he tells Runaan that No, we don't do that here. That he's free, and free means free. No chains, no oaths. Just trust and friendship. He should get to make his own decisions for a change, even though that can be hard and scary sometimes. Runaan being genuinely scared, because that's too much freedom. But he's not alone. He has Ethari, and Ezran, and Rayla, and Callum, and their people, and their allies. And no matter what else happens, the people of Katolis - elven and human - will find a way forward. Together.

part 5

#tdp #tdp theory #tdp speculation #tdp parallels #tdp angst #heavy angst #viren #ethari #runaan #moonshadow elves #hopepunk #ezran #runaan's super getting a tart of jelly tm

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