#I basically left early and had a panic attack | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ktgoodmorning · 2 months

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The Wall: Pt.3

Mapi Leon X teen!Reader

Inspired by the song "The Wall" by GroupLove

“Just sitting on a wall, always trying to do it all” “Really wanna get away, to where I couldn’t say” “Yeah I’m scared but there’s really no reason to be" "It goes round and round, promise me that we will never let life beat us down.” “And if you wanna cry just hold your head up to the sky”“And if you wanna play, that’s fine with me I love this game”

Part 1 Part 2

Trigger warning for panic attacks :)

Masterlist

When you woke up on Saturday you were slightly confused as to how you had ended up in your bed again. Hopefully you’d be able to keep to yourself and avoid any more of Mapi’s questions. You had plenty to do before the game tomorrow so you had plenty to keep yourself occupied, away from the older woman.

For the most part you were successful. Maybe Mapi had finally gotten the message that you were fine and didn’t need her help. You spent a good part of the day going through your notes you had made from the night before, making sure to memorize everything you needed to do better. Most of your day was spent in your room alone and most of Mapi’s was spent running errands and spending time with Ingrid. It was perfect. If she was occupied, she couldn’t be trying to wedge her way into your business.

As you typically did, the three of you had dinner together- something Ingrid had made. It was quieter than usual but missed the tension that had been present in the prior conversations between you. Even Mapi could admit you seemed more normal, more yourself. Maybe you weren’t doing as bad as she thought? It was enough for her to decide not to keep pushing you unless you gave her another reason to. If you stayed like this, maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about.

Sunday was game day. You got up early, starting your day with a short (and much easier than usual) run. It was important to you to always keep the same routine, especially on game days. You’d read it in some book- strong routines made players better. If you followed every part of your morning routine, you’d be in a better headspace for the game later.

This was just one of many things you learned from your different books and podcasts that you were always using to try to improve your game. A lot of people said it was too much, that you can’t be perfect. Not to you though. It wasn’t about perfection, it was about proving yourself. That you hadn’t gotten lucky. That you really could perform at the highest level. You had to be someone your team could count on. Nothing terrified you more than the idea of letting the team down. So if it took going on a run or keeping a strong routine, of course you’d do that.

You followed your routine perfectly- your normal route on your run, the same usual pregame meal, your left boot before your right, just like always, your same braided ponytail. As you looked in the mirror, finishing off your braid, you tried to give yourself a small pep talk. You’re fine, pull yourself together. You’re ready for this. It’s just another game, it’s the one thing you know how to do right.

Everything about your day was the same as you always, which you could only hope would lead to a successful game. You were glad Mapi had decided to let you be, allowing you to stop focusing on her and start focusing on the game ahead of you. Before every match, she always gave you a big hug, lifting you off the ground in the process. Luckily, she kept this tradition, even if she was maybe still mad at you for yelling at her just a few days earlier.

Mapi hadn’t said anything about being mad at you but you figured she would be. You had yelled in her face and pushed her away from you, she should be mad at you. The older woman had basically volunteered to be your parent when you joined the team. She had done so many things for you and you thank her by yelling at her? You sure couldn’t blame her if she was angry, especially when you still hadn’t apologized or spoken with her about it.

You tried your best to push the thoughts out of your mind as the game got closer. As soon as Mapi gave you your hug, you were able to let everything else go. Pina had joined you for your typical handshake you always shared, and you were back in your game day headspace. You were focused. Ready. Ready to show everyone how hard you had been working. Ready to show everyone you were good enough. Ready to show your team that they could depend on you.

The game was more difficult than anyone had expected. You were used to being up early on, usually by multiple points. When it hit half time and the game was still tied at zero, everyone was starting to get frustrated. During the break, you re-braided your hair and re-tied your boots, just as you always did. Mapi gave you another one of her hugs in the tunnel along with some words of encouragement. You knew you’d be fine, you always were.

All of you went into the second half energized from the short break and with a new plan on how to get the ball in the back of the net. You had the motivation to pull out another win, for your team. Unfortunately, motivation doesn’t win games.

You were subbed off around 70 minutes, the score still tied at zero. Everyone thought that the subs would change things up enough to pull ahead. The Barcelona bench was stacked- the fresh legs and mindset would surely be enough to pull ahead. The whole team was playing hard, changing up tactics when the time called for it. But the other team was doing the same thing, just as well. Nothing motivated your opponents like the idea of beating Barca. Just the mere thought of it gave people enough energy to play harder than they ever had before. This proved to be true when the ninety minutes was finished and a point was yet to be scored by either team.

After yet another short break and team meeting, extra time started. The game was more physical as both teams started getting more desperate for a point. You hated the feeling of being on the bench, unable to contribute. All you could do was bite at your nails subconsciously, somehow trying to will your teammates to score.

Everyone was willing to lay it all on the line- your team motivated by the need to win, the need to maintain the Barca reputation, the need to prove yourselves. Your opponents motivated by the idea of beating the legendary Barcelona femini, to break the winning streak, to come out on top. It was exhausting for everyone. Even those on the bench were exhausted. Your nails were almost bleeding as your anxiety grew. The mere idea of continuing to play on was enough to bring any of you to your knees. When extra time ended, still tied, you all knew it was time to go to penalties.

You knew how to handle penalties. This is where all your extra time on the pitch and work on your mindset paid off. You had taken a million penalties before and were known to be someone people could count on. Even so, it normally never got to you. There were plenty of veteran players that would be counted on first.

Both teams had taken five shots so far and both teams were still tied. Alexia, Mapi, and Patri had all made it while Mariona and Salma had their shots blocked. Your opponents had the exact same results, meaning you were up next.

Some of your teammates gave you some high fives and short hugs of encouragement before you made your way up to the ball. You could easily tune out the noise of the crowd and put yourself in exactly the spot you wanted, letting everything else melt away. The weight of the moment didn’t even cross your mind as you knew exactly what you needed to do. Taking a deep breath, you channeled your focus before taking the shot. You watched the ball sail towards the corner of the goal and you watch the goalkeeper dive towards it, just barely grazing the ball with the tip of her gloves. It was just enough to push the ball straight over the top of the crossbar, giving you your first ever missed penalty in your professional career.

It took everything in you not to drop to the ground. It wasn’t over yet. Your opponent just had to miss it too. Cata could save it. She always did.

You blinked back tears, just hoping this wouldn’t be it. Praying that the ball wouldn’t hit the back of the net. Alexia reached for your hand, hoping to provide some comfort as you all watched, hoping the game wouldn’t end here. Mapi pulled you into her shoulder, knowing you would need her if this is what ended the game.

They had all been there before. All your teammates knew that if this resulted in a loss, it wasn’t your fault. Everyone had neglected to score during regular play. Everyone was responsible. You win as a team and you lose as a team. Everyone knew that.

Except as you watched your opponent shoot, you were ready to throw up. Cata couldn’t quite reach the ball, her finger tips not stretching long enough. The ball flew straight passed her outstretched arm and into the net.

Everything around you went silent, but somehow also mind-numbingly loud as you fell to your knees. All the work you had put in was suddenly for nothing. The rubber band that was wound so tightly within you, holding you together, had just snapped on impact. Tears were pouring from your eyes and you had lost all awareness of your surroundings. You smacked the ground, overwhelmed by the ringing in your ears. Overwhelmed by your anger. By your frustration. Your Failure. Your loneliness. Brokenness.

You were being suffocated by all your thoughts. You couldn’t make sense of any of them, they were just beating you down, forcing you to remain frozen, sobbing into the grass.

Nobody had seen you like this before. Mapi had seen you in some pretty low places but still nothing close to this. She and Alexia both dropped to the ground on either side of you, hoping to provide you a small amount of privacy from the crowds and the cameras that would surely be interested in getting your reaction right now. If they could just bring you back to reality, they could at least help you get back to the locker room, away from the prying eyes.

The two older girls didn’t realize quite how bad it was until they were down on the ground next to you. You were sobbing hard, almost wheezing because of your lack of breath. One hand was gripping the grass harder than they knew possible, the other holding your chest tight, hoping it would somehow help you breathe.

Mapi placed a hand softly on your back, knowing how much you appreciated physical contact. She hoped that it wouldn’t overstimulate you in your current state but it was the only thing she could think of. When you didn’t flinch away from her, she took it as a green light to continue. Alexia gently uncurled your hand from the grass, holding it in her own. It was all they could do to attempt to ground you, but you only responded with more hiccups, completely unaware of their presence.

“Amiga breathe, it’s okay. You’re okay. We’ve got you.” Mapi pleaded with you, her words doing little to calm you down. When you still didn’t acknowledge them, the two older girls shared a look, knowing they needed to get you off the pitch if they wanted to make any real progress with you.

Somehow they managed to pull you up, more or less carrying you as you went mostly limp. You weren’t too far from the tunnel to begin with so while it wasn’t easy, it was doable for them to get you there. Your arms were wrapped around their shoulders, holding it there with one of their hands while the other wrapped around your waist. After playing for this long, they were both exhausted, the loss weighing heavily on them too. It took everything in them just to get you to the tunnel, hoping the quiet and privacy would help you calm down.

Once they got you seated on the ground, the two girls returned to their efforts of bringing you back to them. There were tears still streaming down your face, unaffected by the new environment, while you still struggled to breathe, lost in a spiral of anguish, fully hyperventilating. Mapi decided to take the lead, knowing she knew you better than anyone.

She sat down directly in front of you, taking both your hands in hers. The one she placed on her chest, right over top her heart, hoping it would help calm your breathing. “(y/n), just try to breathe, match my breaths,” she was taking exaggerated deep breaths, talking softly, hoping to guide you back to her. “You don’t have to worry, we’ve got you, you’re okay. Just think about breathing, don’t think about anything else.” The older woman was close to tears herself- she had never seen you like this before and if her usual tactics didn’t work, she didn’t know how else to help you.

Alexia sat silently next to you, running her hand softly down your back, giving Mapi looks of encouragement that she was doing the right thing. The older woman gave her a slight nod, pushing her to continue her actions.

A heavy sigh escaped Mapi before she continued on. She brought one hand to cup your face, trying to force you to make eye contact with her. She didn’t know if it would be too much for you but it was all she could think of to bring you back to her.

You were slightly grateful for her attempt, hoping that somehow the look in your eyes would communicate how completely terrified you were. It was like your body forgot how to breathe and you didn’t know how to fix it. Your vision was slightly blurry, from tears or from the lack of oxygen, you didn’t know but the eye contact at least helped you see her face, a face of familiarity and comfort. Seeing one of your best friends, someone who you knew would protect you, calmed your nerves slightly. Mapi wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you and you knew it, even if you currently felt like you might die at any moment.

“Amiga, I need you to try to breathe with me. Just see if you can match my breaths, you can do it, I promise.” You nodded frantically, really hoping you could fulfill the older woman’s request. All you could do was let out more gasps, but you really were trying. The lack of improvement almost freaked you out more but Mapi seemed to read the look on your face before you were able to spiral further. “You’re okay, you’re doing great, just keep trying to match me. You’ve got this, you don’t need to think about anything else.”

You nodded more, and tried to focus further. Your hand that had been on her chest, feeling the rhythm of her breath morphed into you gripped her kit tightly. After a few minutes, your gasps had morphed into sobs, a small improvement from your previous state. As soon as you seemed to be breathing better, Mapi pulled you into her chest, holding you as tightly as she could. It was as if her hug could protect you from everything, from yourself. Tears started to spill from her own eyes, wondering how she could’ve let you get like this in the first place. How could she have let you put so much pressure on yourself that one missed penalty had you on the ground, barely able to breathe.

Alexia remained next to both of you, running one hand through Mapi’s hair and one down your back, hoping to help you both calm down. After what seemed like an eternity, Mapi pulled away from you slightly, keeping her hands on your shoulders, almost as if she were afraid to let go of you completely. She didn’t even bother wiping away her tears, letting them fall silently.

“Amiga, it’s okay. Nobody is mad at you for missing that shot.”

“I let everyone down.” Your words were barely a whisper, all energy completely drained from you.

“No, no, no, no, no. You didn’t let anyone down. Not me, not Alexia, not anyone. I promise. If we all would’ve played better, we wouldn’t have even gotten to penalties in the first place. It’s not on you, we’ve all been there.”

“This is all too much, Maps. I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean, amiga? You don’t have to do anything, you are perfect.”

“No! I can’t do it!” your voice raised as you found your words again, “I’ve tried so hard for so long and I’m just exhausted! There’s not much left of me!” you were practically shouting as you cried. “I go early and I stay late and I take extra runs and I eat healthy and I don’t take cheat days and I don’t complain and I don’t cry and I do all the things in all the fucking books and I still fail. I failed everyone! I’m just so tired of everything and need a break from it all but I can’t get a break!” It felt good to finally get the words off your chest but you still broke down into more tears, falling directly into Mapi’s chest as you did so.

The older woman held you tight, once again. Rocking you gently, running a hand through your hair as she whispered to you in spanish. Once you had quieted, she spoke again, “Amiga you’re allowed to take a break.”

You pulled away, shaking your head, ready to argue with her before she cut you off, placing her hands on either side of your face, wiping your tears softly with her thumbs. “You’re allowed to cry and to complain. You don’t have to do it all. We are a team for a reason. Nobody has to take on everything. Not you, not me, not even Ale.” You gave Alexia a skeptical look as she was still sitting next to you, just taking in Mapi’s words. She needed to hear the reminders herself at times.

Mapi used your silence to continue, “None of us have to take on everything, Amiga. Especially not you, you’re still just a kid. You get to cry. You get to struggle at times. You get to be a pain in the ass if you want. Hell, I’m almost ten years older than you and Ale would still say I’m a pain in the ass.” You let out a smile at her attempt at a joke. Alexia let out a giggle, silently agreeing with Mapi’s words. “It’s true though Amiga, nobody expects you to be perfect all the time. You are good enough. You are always good enough. You don’t have to work yourself to death. You don’t have to hold it all in. Everything about you is good enough and it always will be.” The older woman raised her eyebrows at you, checking to see if you believed her yet.

Normally it would take a lot more to get this point across to you but Mapi spoke with such conviction. She had held your gaze the entire time, never once letting go of you. You gave her a slight nod and pulled her in for yet another hug. It wouldn’t fix everything, you both knew that. But it was a starting point.

After a minute, your two teammates helped you up, leading you back to the locker room to change before going to the bus. Mapi refused to leave your side and Alexia was there to make sure you both had everything you needed as you got ready to go.

Mapi couldn’t risk letting you go unprotected. She had to make sure you were okay and she had to make sure nobody could hurt you, even if it was your own thoughts. She sat down with you on the bus and pulled you against her, lulling you to sleep. All she could do was continue to hold you and tell you how good you were. That you were good enough and perfect and her favorite person in the world (but don’t tell Ingrid). Mapi would help you get down off this wall, no matter what it took, and you both knew it.

Masterlist

Feedback and requests are always welcome! :)

#barca femeni #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #fcb femini #woso one shot #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon #mapi león #mapi leon x reader #maria leon #maria león #fcb femeni #woso fanfics #wosoreading24/7 #wosoreadingmapi

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queenimmadolla · 1 year

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𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀

(eddie munson x secret admirer!reader)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • eddie edit © @fefemunson! • ao3

Summary: After four long years of pining, it’s high time you tell your crush you like him and quite possibly your last chance to, luckily there’s no better time for love confessions than Valentine’s Day. If only you hadn’t chosen to do so anonymously, because you’re pretty sure Eddie Munson is hoping his secret admirer is someone else.

Warnings: pining, angst, misunderstandings, very brief (blink and you miss it) descriptions of oncoming panic attack (doesn't happen), Heather Holloway being a sweetie, and a whole lot of fluff

authors note: no, you're not imagining things. i'm reposting a story i already have up. unfortunately, i seem to have an anti who has been flagging anything of mine that gains traction as content that it is not so it's hidden to those who don't have the settings on (most people) and goes to die away, never to be interacted with again. they're attempting to do the same to Magical Mysteria, as they had the original flagged and, therefore, hidden. because everyone seemed to really relate to reader and enjoyed reading this particular fic, i've decided to give that anti the finger, so here's a repost.

word count: 10k

You stood posted by a row of lockers, peaking around the corner of the hall to watch as the longtime object of your affections laughed at something one of his friends said.

“Are you stalking him again?”

You jumped, clutching your biology book to your chest as you swiveled around to face Heather, your best friend.

“Geez!” You hissed out, voice low as you checked to make sure you hadn’t attracted his attention.

But it’s you, so of course you hadn’t. Eddie was still leaning up against his locker and chatting away, face framed by the mane he called his hair. His curls were defined much more than usual—clearly he’d washed his hair before school which meant he must have been up early. Why did you know that????

“I’m not stalking him,” you grumbled and Heather giggled. “I’m just observing him.”

“Well, stop observing him and go talk to him.” She nudged your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile.

“I’m gonna—,” You answered with false bravado that soon wavered, “. . . eventually. Look, I have a plan. Okay, today is a new day, Valentine’s Day and the perfect day for romance. No more watching from the sidelines─”

Heather coughed out a stalking, followed by another cough, all of which you ignored.

“No more quietly pining, I’m telling him how I feel.”

Heather raised her eyebrows, tongue clicking.

“Let me get this straight, you’re not only going to actually exchange words with him, you’re actually going to tell Eddie Munson about your feelings?”

Your heart fluttered just at the mention of him.

Edward Wayne Munson. Eddie.

You’d had a crush on him since your freshman year of high school, and contrary to your best friend’s earlier statement, you had exchanged words with him already. Sorta. Basically.

Freshman year you’d ate shit in the hallway, tripping over literally nothing and all your belongings had scattered, he’d stopped walking to help you pick your things up before he was off again. It wasn’t much conversation, but he did say something about those invisible rocks people left lying around.

Then your sophomore year, he’d sat behind you with his club at the school’s mandatory pep rally. One of his friends had accidentally jostled you and Heather a little too roughly when he was finding his seat and Eddie had apologized on his behalf.

Then last year he’d held the cafeteria door open for you and your friends when you slipped in. That time, you’d been the one to thank him and he had said you’re welcome. Almost unprompted!

So, yeah. Maybe you were a little delusional, it didn’t matter though. What mattered was you were running out of time.

Somehow, Eddie had managed to fail the past two years, allowing you to catch up to him but that meant you were now a senior as well. You’d let the other chances to approach him pass you by because you were too scared of rejection, this was your last chance.

The college acceptance letter you’d received at the start of the week also spurred your bravery, if he rejected you, you only had a few months left until you were on your way to California, there’d be all those states between the two of you.

You had nothing to lose, so today was gonna be the day.

“Yes,” you took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the determination sank deep into your bones. “I’m gonna tell him.”

“How are you gonna do that?” She cocked her head, the curls of her side ponytail bouncing.

“I’m glad you asked, my friend.” You grabbed her hand, dragging her down the hall to your partially opened locker. You pulled the door open fully to reveal a bouquet of roses, set on top of your books.

Her face wrinkled up in confusion, “You bought yourself flowers again?”

“No.” You glared at her, a hand scratching your head as you hissed out through gritted teeth, “And we promised not to bring that up anymore—these are for Eddie.”

Heather perked up at that, a hand resting over her chest as she fawned, “Dude, that is so cute! When are you gonna give them to him?”

“That’s the thing, I’m not actually going to give them to him directly. I need your help. You’ve got history with him, yeah?”

You already knew she did so it didn’t surprise you when she nodded. You slipped one rose from the bouquet and handed it to her.

“Can you leave this on his desk?”

“Sure! Wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of your love story,” she marveled, twirling the stem between her fingertips.

God, you hoped it’d be a love story and not a tragedy.

“And these are for you.” You pulled out a smaller bouquet of pink roses, and Heather just about burst into tears.

The two of you had been best friends since middle school, and often spent your free time watching corny teen movies, usually living through the main characters of the romance ones. You’d had a couple of almost-boyfriends, in the end you hadn’t been interested in them enough to accept when they’d try to make it official. And Heather simply hadn’t caught the eye of anyone, which was ridiculous to you considering how pretty and nice she was, so you were usually her valentine on Valentine’s Day. This was the first time you actually got her flowers instead of a bunch of chocolates to eat the night away, you’d figured she deserved them.

She’d had a crush on Steve Harrington, but he hadn’t noticed her and ended up dating and getting dumped by Nancy Wheeler. Then he’d dated every other girl except her. You feared your non-existent relationship with Eddie might go the same way.

“Dude,” Heather yanked you in for a hug, squeezing you to the point you thought your ribs might be bruised.

“Uhm. Heather. Ow.”

“Oh, sorry.” She released you, holding you by your shoulders, “Okay, so I just give it to him?”

“No, no, no, no, no. There will be no interactions. Just leave it on his desk.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

You were about to reply when the first bell cut you off and threw you into a panic, nudging Heather in the direction of the classroom so she could beat Eddie there. Heather took off running once she realized the reason for your worry, only you both failed to remember Eddie was late to everything.

You reluctantly made your way to your first period, plagued by thoughts of Eddie’s reaction to the first rose.

Would he like it? Oh, you hoped he liked it.

What if he thought it was some prank? What if he threw it away? Would he do the same to the rest?

Oh, well. There was no backing out now.

Your carefully thought out plan was put into action. You’d made sure to play sick the last 15 minutes of every class to get an excuse note to the nurse, only you didn’t go to the nurse. Instead, you ran around leaving a rose in Eddie’s various hang outs. One at the creepy old bench you knew he did business at. Two roses with the stems placed through the slits of his locker, three on his windshield wipers, one of the younger students in your art class was in Hellfire with him and after swearing him to secrecy, Will had promised to deliver three to Eddie personally, without revealing your identity.

During lunch, you found yourself behind the stage of the cafeteria, in part of the drama department. It’s where Hellfire took place.

You’d been there a handful of times, only when your curiosity for the metalhead got a little too overwhelming for you and you wanted to feel closer to him without having to face him. It was only ever set up on Fridays, the day Eddie got to school early enough to do so.

You made your way over to sit in the chair closest to his throne, casting it a couple of nervous glances.

This would be where you left the last rose, so of course, everything about the set up, the throne had to look daunting to you now; a representation of how you were seeing Eddie as your confession grew nearer. If things didn’t go as planned, it’d be the last time you could come here.

The thought made your stomach hurt, a large void beginning to form there.

The last rose was much too personal to leave just anywhere, where someone without a key to the room would find it. No one but the Hellfire club would occupy this area today. Attached to the rose with a ribbon was a note with a simple message that meant more to you than you cared to admit. You’d written it when you first came up with your plan at the start of the week and had been debating on whether or not to sign your name since then.

The answer should’ve been obvious, right? This whole thing was to let Eddie know how you felt about him, and your romantic intentions were clear with the red roses. This note would finish implying the rest. And if you wanted Eddie to know it was you who admired him, you just had to write your name.

Yeah, simple as that.

You clicked the pen in your grasp, placing it just over the paper.

You wavered, licking your lips as you tried to convince yourself to just own your goddamn name. That’s all you had to do. Write on the paper.

Just write on the paper.

Your hand was beginning to shake, and with a heavy heart, you realized your name wouldn’t be going on this note.

You weren’t brave enough for that. You set your purple pen down, staring down at the words written in pink ink before you rolled the paper up, making sure the ribbon was secured (you’d used a hole puncher to slip the ribbon through) and left it on the seat of the throne before scurrying out of the room as fast as you could.

—

Eddie was at a loss, completely stupefied.

When he’d arrived at his history class, after having mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of boredom he’d face, he was surprised to find a single rose on his desk. By surprised, he meant incredibly suspicious. A glance around the room confirmed he wasn’t being watched, everyone was gossiping about Emmy Switcher’s upcoming party, so he’d settled into his seat and marveled at it.

Eddie wasn’t one to ever really get things on Valentine’s Day, not counting the mandatory valentine’s cards in elementary and middle school. The last time he’d gotten a card was his first senior year, and it had been a prank by a couple of girls on the softball team and their boyfriends. Embarrassed the shit out of him. The following Valentine’s Day he’d faked being sick to avoid falling victim again—god, he craved affection so much it made him pathetic enough to still hope for something gross and cheesy to happen to him.

A rose was harmless though, right? Unless it was poisoned or something. Eddie lifted it to his nose, but all he could pick up was the seductive floral scent and when he didn’t immediately pass out from chloroform, he figured it was just a rose.

He glanced around again in vain, hoping someone would somehow stick out and when no one did, he held it in his grasp, rough fingertips stroking over the soft petals for the duration of the class.

He’d been stunned when he arrived at his locker to find two roses hanging out of it. A few people were staring at him as he carefully pulled them from their place, but they looked more curious rather than shy or mischievous. He had a feeling whoever was leaving the roses for him wasn’t around.

He refused to leave them in his locker, the stems clutched in his hand as he went about his day and found more. Eddie was more than proud to display them, somewhat smug at the attention they were garnishing him.

Yeah, fuckers. Someone finally liked him. Eat shit.

He’d spent his English class convincing himself he’d never find out exactly who this someone was. He was pretty fucking stressed after that. He tried to come up with a roster of sorts, girls he thought might be interested in him enough to maybe leave him pretty flowers and woo him right out of his Reeboks.

He’d only been able to come up with four—impressive—but his first pick he was quick to scribble out. He hadn’t had a decent interaction with her and he figured it was creepy of him to put her at the top of the list all because of his wishful thinking.

The second girl listed was possible, maybe. Chrissy Cunningham. He’d had a crush on her for as long as he could remember since she was always nice to him. She’d dumped Jason a couple of months ago and he’d been dealing to her for a short amount of time, but she seemed pretty flirty to him. Although, flattery did work on him.

The third name made him nervous, and not in a good way. Tina Sawyer. They’d both got pretty drunk at her Halloween party and hooked up in her bathroom but she avoided him like the plague afterwards, obviously embarrassed about interacting with him, which was typical for the lot of Hawkins.

He’d been sure it was a drunken mistake but sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and she didn’t look all that disgusted with him.

The last name on the short list was that of Tammy Thompson. She had made her interest in Eddie pretty clear his junior year, always trying to sit behind him in classes so she could play with his hair. Unfortunately Tammy was very, for the lack of better words, aggressive with her affections. He’d made out with her once and it had been sloppy and messy in the most unattractive of ways. It was like tonguing a dog.. Then he remembered she’d actually been able to graduate, unlike him, so he was spared.

By lunch, Eddie was ready to try to figure out who his secret admirer was. Out of the two remaining girls on his list, he was leaning more towards Chrissy, who he felt wouldn’t be ashamed to hold his hand in public.

He and his lunchbox full of drugs—and some snacks—made their way to the Hellfire lunch table where he spent a significant amount of time studying the two girls.

“Uh, are you okay, Eddie?”

Eddie glanced up at the concerned face of Will Byers, who’d arrived much later than the rest of the guys and Stephanie, one of the two girls in Hellfire. The question drew the attention of the rest of the table and Eddie internally sighed.

“Yeah, I’m fine—what are those?” Eddie asked, eyes honed in on the roses resting on Will’s tray.

The younger teen handed them over, “A girl told me to give you these.”

Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, “You know who she is?”

Will nodded and before Eddie could demand a name, he rushed, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy!”

Eddie scowled, carefully setting aside his roses so they wouldn’t be involved in his annoyance.

“Byers, I’m gonna level with you. I’ve been in this miserable prison for six long years. While I’ve had my fair share of hookups, I have not ever had a girl like me enough to leave me roses and do cute shit before. And I fear I never will again. That’s why I’m actually gonna need you to tell me who it is so I can have a girlfriend by the end of what is supposed to be the most god awful romantic day of the year. ‘Kay?”

Eddie’s eyebrows dart up, face set in an intimidating glower but Will remembers how scared you looked when you trusted him with this task. He also knows, very well, how it feels to love someone without them ever knowing because you fear what their response will be. He’d also seen Eddie eyeing both Chrissy and Tina.

Will knew what it was like to have that special person interested in someone else, too. So, he’d protect your secret.

“I swore.”

Eddie groaned, head dipping forward in a brief moment of defeat before he slammed his fist on the table, making the other occupants jump.

“Whatever, I’ll find her myself.” Just as Eddie stands, an idea occurs to him. Will said he wouldn’t tell him who it was, but the youngest Byers hadn’t said he wouldn’t tell him who it wasn’t, “Is it Tina?”

Will shakes his head, nose wrinkling. Nothing against her, she just wasn’t the nicest to him or his friends. Not the meanest, still.

Eddie breathes out a sigh, mumbling an oh, thank god as he makes his way to the cafeteria doors. That only left one possibility, and he was due to meet up with her in just five minutes. He couldn’t fight the grin off his face.

──

Your heart was racing a mile a minute, having witnessed everything transpire at the Hellfire table.

You’d selected your lunch table four years ago because of the perfect view of Eddie it provided you, but right then it was killing you. You’d ruined your manicure, picking aggressively at the polish as you watched Will and Eddie, breathing out a sigh of relief when it looked like Will hadn’t revealed your identity.

Eddie hadn’t seemed too happy about that.

Then he stormed out and you fought very hard with yourself to not follow after him because then Heather would be right and you’d be a stalker.

“Regret it yet?” Heather asked after she’d swallowed a bite of her sandwich.

“No.” You sorta lied. Yeah, you kind of regretted it but at the same time, knowing Eddie wouldn’t have to let you down gently made you less anxious. Besides, it wasn’t like you could just climb up the stage and duck past the curtain leading to the hellfire room without one of it’s members spotting you from their table. They’d tell Eddie in a heartbeat, especially if they found out the last rose and that damn note was there.

“Sure,” Heather drawled, glancing over her shoulder as you picked at your food, appetite suddenly gone.

Maybe you really should have written your name on that love note.

“Well, I hope you mean it, because Dream Girl is on her way to meet Ice Cream.” Your head snapped up at the mention of Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie’s code names you’d given them so both you and Heather were free to talk without either of them suspecting anything. You referred to Chrissy as Dream Girl because you’d known all about Eddie’s crush on her (while Heather had been depressed about Steve and Nancy, you’d eaten your weight in ice cream over Eddie and Chrissy’s more than friendly interactions with each other, which had nothing to do with Eddie’s code name—he was ‘ice cream’ because you wanted to lick him all over).

Sure enough, you looked over Heather’s shoulder, following her gaze to see Chrissy bidding her friends goodbye before she walked right out of the doors Eddie had pushed past minutes ago and as you watched her exit through the double doors, something inside you withers and dies a bit.

You knew Eddie sold to her (gave her a discount because she was pretty and because of their flirting, hearing him say that made you want to drive a knife right through your chest), you and Heather had followed them out a couple of times which is how you were both aware of the flirtationship.

After the first time you’d spied on them, the two of you had gone back to your home where Heather held a mock funeral for you. Now, you wished it had been a real one because you were sure Eddie had not only loved your roses, he also assumed they were from Chrissy. They would send him right into her arms at that shitty ass bench. And when he’d get a hold of the love note, well, you’d be the reason behind why Eddie and Chrissy would be hand in hand come Monday, canoodling by their lockers and kissing like no one else was watching. All the things Eddie should have been doing with you.

You should have signed your name on the fucking note.

─

Eddie had paced a pathway, disturbing the mounds of fallen leaves surrounding the picnic table.

His stuff, another rose he’d found waiting for him included, was on the table and he’d taken off his jacket, despite the chill of the February air. He was working himself up in his head, overheating in the process.

“Eddie?”

His head shot around, grinning as Chrissy—who apparently left him roses—approached him, face broken out in a smile.

“Hey, Chris.” Eddie’s heart was racing a mile a minute, palms sweaty as he rested them over his hips, then quickly realized he looked stupid so he crossed them instead.

She laughed at his nerves with absolutely no malice and they sat down at the bench, getting down to business. She’d been about to hand him a twenty dollar bill after he slid her the ziploc bag of nugs, but he held up his hand.

“On the house.”

“Eddie, it’s always on the house. I feel bad.”

“Then stop.” He emphasized the demand with bulging eyes, smirking when she giggled. She had to like him, right?

Eddie tried to be discreet about it, plucking one of the roses from his growing pile. He played with the stem, even sniffed the petals again in hopes she’d comment about it, maybe look a little excited about it or just give him any sort of reaction to indicate it had been her.

Chrissy was too busy moving things aside in her backpack to make room for the baggy. When she finally did look back up, she smiled, but gave no hint she was even familiar with them.

“Ooh, pretty flowers. Where’d you get those?”

Was she playing coy?

“Uh, someone’s been leaving them for me all around school.” Was it you?

Chrissy’s face lit up and Eddie thought it was finally the moment of truth.

“That’s so sweet! Do you know who it is? Or is it like a secret admirer sort of deal?”

Evidently, not the moment of truth. She had to be toying with him, trying to prolong the reveal. Because if it wasn’t her, he was out of ideas. And he really, really didn’t want to be out of ideas. Not when there was someone out there, maybe thinking about him.

“I actually have no idea who it is,” he sighed out, hoping, if it was her, she’d just put him out of his damn misery already.

Chrissy glanced down at the table and Eddie perked up. Nerves? Was she finally gonna come out with it?

“It wasn’t me, Eddie…but, I wish it had been.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say, mouth dropped open a little as his eyebrows quirked up in surprise.

Okay. Hadn’t been expecting that. He was expecting a yes it was me or a no it wasn’t me but not Chrissy confirming it hadn’t been her while also telling him she liked him.

“So, you haven’t been leaving them for me?”

Chrissy shook her head and reached across the table to place her smaller hand over his, palm warm against his skin. Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, head falling forward to rest against the table.

“Eddie?” Chrissy asked, concern lacing her voice.

He let out a very long sigh, a little miffed at how messy this whole thing had gotten. Now, there was his, Chrissy’s and someone else’s feelings in the mix. Christ.

“‘M’sorry, Chrissy.” Eddie sat up straight, face grim as he slowly pulled his hand out from underneath hers. “You’re great, fantastic, actually. You’re really nice and really pretty, but… I’ve been going crazy all day, trying to figure out who’s behind these.”

He gestures to the roses at his side, the sight of them filling him with an intense wave of longing.

“It’s been like years since I’ve gotten anything with real meaning behind it for any occasion—” he wasn’t counting the hellfire club or Wayne, referring to romantic intentions—“let alone Valentine’s Day, and someone in this school seems to be thinking about me.”

Eddie thought about what it must have taken to do something like this, it may have seemed like a trivial thought, something simple to others. He knew it wasn’t. He had no idea who it was, but he put himself in their position. They had to know enough about him to know his schedule, where he spent time, and then make the time to leave them in those spots just before he got there.

He’d spent the time waiting for Chrissy considering the anonymity of it. On the chance it wasn’t her, there was someone else in the school who was too afraid to approach him directly. He’d thought it might be out of fear of being seen with him, seen doing anything remotely romantic with him. Then, why even bother? They had to be afraid of his reaction, it’s what he would be nervous about if the positions were flipped.

And god, he’d never felt more alive before, more seen and all it took was a couple of roses. He felt like those fawning girls in John Hughes movies.

“Before today, I never would have approached you about this, you know? I know we flirt, but I never would have been brave enough to cross that line.” He admitted, looking into her shiny blue eyes. Aw, man. Eddie hated making girls cry but it was true, he would have been waiting for her to make a move, or for Tina to make a move. Any of his past hookups, really. He’d have been with any of them—having craved affection and everything that came with it so bad—if they had just been the ones to initiate things on a more permanent basis.

He would have. Past tense. They could all form a conga line and confess their undying love for him but, unless they were the one who left him the roses—the one who made him brave enough to actually go around confronting people in an attempt to seek her out—he’d let them down.

“She made me brave, makes me feel really wanted and I don't even know who she is. It’s not you, it’s just─”

“I’m not her.” Chrissy finished for him, wiping under one of her eyes. “It’s alright, Eddie. I mean, I’m obviously a little sad, but it’s not your fault or hers. I do hope you find her, though. She’d be lucky to have you.”

She gave Eddie a sad smile, making him feel even guiltier but it’d be pretty shitty of him to try to be with her when he’d be thinking of someone else.

“Thanks, Chrissy.” Eddie stood up and gathered his things. It was clear she was upset and would probably need some time to gather herself, he didn’t want to force her to leave first or linger around and make it awkward.

He left her with a small, parting smile, relieved that he hadn’t charged her. Would have felt like a douchebag to make her pay for weed and turn her down in the span of five minutes when she’d been nothing but pleasant to him.

Eddie shook it off, determination setting in once more. Sure, he was back to the drawing board, but if all else failed, he could corner young Byers again until he finally gave him a name.

He’d come up with a pretty good list of ways he could force Will to give up the name by the time school let out and he got to the Hellfire room.

It wasn’t until he set his little bouquet and the lunchbox down (he didn’t bother with backpacks, just shoved whatever he needed in his pants pockets or the box), walking around the throne in a circle like some fucking animal because he was so restless, that he saw the rose.

The flash of white had caught his eyes and he dove down to grab it, trying to be as careful with pulling the piece of paper away from the stem of the rose, only he realized whoever left it had hole punched the thing together so he ripped the ribbon with his teeth rather than rip the note.

The ribbon was stuffed into his back pocket as he eagerly sat himself down, rose clutched in one hand and the note in his other.

Eddie,

Please excuse my lack of eloquence in this note and also in our real life encounters.

Eddie felt a shiver of excitement wash over his skin, cheeks a bright shade of pink at the confirmation he’d indeed interacted with his secret admirer before. Fuck, she’d talked to him! It made her feel even more real.

She was a real person, someone he could probably hold hands with and kiss. Unless, this was done in a purely platonic way which would be a little fucked up. Red roses to be friends? C’mon. He read on.

I hoped you liked the flowers. I was actually debating on getting you different ones, something a little more personalized to you, but I ended up going with roses because, well, they convey romance better.

Eddie leaned over the arm of the throne, sagging back as he allowed himself to completely collapse with relief. Just for a few seconds, then his eyes were glued to the pink penmanship.

I’m trying really hard not to sound creepy because I’m totally not creepy and I know what you're thinking, ‘that’s what a creep would say’ but I swear I’m not, I just. I admire you. A lot. I have for so, so long. I admire the way you keep going, even when things are absolute shit for you, I like how you watch out for the underclassmen that come in and don’t really have anywhere to go. I like the way you dress, how pretty your hair is (even when it’s frizzy which is so unfair), how passionate you get with your rants (even though sometimes you’re an asshole about it).

And I like your laugh I LOVE your laugh. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had what feels like the worst fucking day of my life and I’m ready to breakdown and cry and scream, but I don’t. Because I can hear you laugh your ass off at something one of your friends said in the cafeteria, by your locker or even when you’re just walking past me. And I wish I was there, laughing alongside you or making you laugh. I don’t know how your laughter makes me feel better, it just does. I get all smiley and I feel warm inside and I want to give you a hug for it, for making me feel better without even trying.

But I can’t. You kind of scare me. Not in the mean, scary way, I’m just not sure you’ll like me. Or that it’ll go anywhere, or even if it should.

You’re so confident, Eddie. And you’re stupid attractive (you are, and I’m sure you’re aware but I’ll go ahead and tell you I’m also physically attracted to you) and it’s so overwhelming that I can’t contain it anymore and I don’t really want to. We only have a couple of months before we’re out of here (I have a feeling this is gonna be your year, you’ll be free of this sentence, too), and I don’t want to have any regrets. The only way I’d ever regret you is by not telling you how I feel.

So, here I am, Eddie Munson. Never thought I’d ever be confessing like this, but for the first time in my life, I feel brave. And it’s all because of you. Thank you, Eddie. I’ll be running around— dodging teachers and detention write ups— like Rocky in his training montages to get these roses to you because you deserve your flowers and I’d be delighted to give them to you today, and every single Valentine’s Day after. Actually, I want to give you even more than that. If you’ll have me.

Love,

What the fuck?

Eddie hastily searched the bottom portion of the back side of the paper, where the note ended for a signature, a name, initials, something but that’s where it ended.

There was no name.

“NO! FUCK! NO! No, no, no, no, NO! I’ll have you, take me, just tell me who you are!” Eddie groaned out, note dropped into his lap so he could clench the roots of his hair with both fists as he doubled over.

This had to be a nightmare. It was the only reasonable explanation for someone to say all those wonderfuckingful things, just for them to disappear.

His heart hurt and he blinked frantically to ward off the onslaught of water and sniffed to deter the tingle in his nose.

The unmistakable sound of his own little rat pack making their way towards the room wasn’t enough to get him to pull himself together.

“Eddie, dude, are you okay?”

Eddie recalled his final option, head shooting to glance around at their faces in search of one in particular.

“Byers. Where’s Byers?”

“His mom picked him up after lunch, wasn’t feeling good,” Mike informed him, completely unaware his grand Valentine’s gesture for Jane had been the cause of his sudden illness.

It was the final straw for Eddie, he snatched the lunchbox and flowers and grumbled out, “Sessions canceled.”

He must have looked pissed as none of them protested, probably having something to do with most of them having dates afterwards.

He almost made it out of the room when Gareth called him back, holding up a purple pen he’d found on the table and figured Eddie was about to forget.

“Is this yours?”

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“No.” Then he walked out.

Before promptly storming back in, swiping the pen out of Gareth’s meaty hands. Eddie clicked the pen and scribbled furiously over the side of his fist until the ink finally ran. It wasn’t purple. The ink filler was pink.

His secret admirer’s pen.

“What a cruel parting gift,” he sighed, shoving the pen in his pocket before making his exit. Again.

The really sad thing was Eddie couldn’t even sink into depression in the peace of his room. Emmy Switcher had approached Rick about wanting some herbal refreshments at her party and since he was still under house arrest (how Rick managed to deal and supply in his circumstances baffled him) the job fell upon Eddie. He’d driven to Rick’s restocked, then hit the party.

It was a horn fest, couples everywhere he looked. All heart-eyed and attached at the tongue. It was disgusting.

Eddie was pouting, quietly fuming that it wasn’t him and his secret admirer making out or cuddling or doing something equally romantic but noooooo. Just had to take the ‘secret’ aspect to its extreme.

He banished himself to a dark corner, only interacting with people when approached for drugs or weed. He’d caught sight of Chrissy and it had looked like she wanted to come over but he’d purposely shifted his gaze. Despite the gaping hole left where his heart was, it wasn’t Chrissy or Tina, or the girl in the upstairs restroom, who’d thrown herself at him when he’d been searching for a free bathroom to piss in, that he wanted. Eddie wasn’t in the mood to rebound.

Which was kind of crazy considering he hadn’t even been in a relationship, hadn’t been dumped. He wanted everything in that note, especially the promise of more and only with its author.

Now, Eddie hadn’t been in love before. Some serious lust and want, yeah, however, reading that note made him feel like he was falling a little bit in love and he wanted, very badly, to dive headfirst the rest of the way. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

Once he’d sold out the rest of Rick’s inventory, he stole a beer and headed for the front door.

Once outside, Eddie took a minute to breathe. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it had been in there until he was no longer engulfed by the claustrophobic displays of affection.

He trudged down the pathway and paused when he saw the figure of a girl sitting on the lawn. Her head was directed down towards the ground and she was most definitely not wearing the right clothes for the outside weather.

Eddie cursed under his breath, plans to immediately drive home and get crossed put on hold as he walked over, noting the dew already coating the grass.

“Hey, you okay?”

─

Drinking your sorrows away probably wasn’t the best idea, considering how much of a lightweight you were.

Originally, you’d wanted to lock yourself away in your room for the night—and probably the rest of the weekend as well as maybe the next school week; nothing wrong with playing sick to avoid facing reality and your problems─to cry and pass out. Heather, on the other hand, had plans for you. She’d dolled you up, having to force you to wash your face and re-do your makeup once when you had started crying—put you in a cute outfit and dragged you to Emmy Switcher’s party.

You knew her intentions were pure—as pure as underage drinking could be—but she knew her mistake when the party started to couple up. You’d been approached multiple times and she’d try to encourage you to go for the decent acting ones, you just hadn’t wanted to. When Chrissy Cunningham showed up, you’d gone for shots of the hard liquor (over the sink of course in case you gagged it up, which you did a decent amount of), sure that Eddie would soon follow and you’d be forced to witness their affection.

Obviously, you ended up shitfaced and somehow lost track of Heather. Or maybe she lost track of you. You’d very briefly attempted to find her, accidentally spotted Chrissy, now making eyes at Eddie who’d shown up, and you’d promptly headed outside, eager for some fresh air and an escape from the madhouse. The high alcohol level in your blood kept you from feeling how chilly it really was and you settled into the grass, twirling strands of it around your fingers.

You weren’t sure how long you were out there when someone approached you.

“Hey, you okay?”

You looked up, ready to ask them to just leave you when you locked eyes with Eddie Munson. Most of the liquid courage coursing through your veins evaporated, you couldn’t look at him for long, gaze moving back to the grass. What a way to start sobering up.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? ‘Cause,” Eddie sat down next to you, one leg crossed and his other, knee up with his arm resting over it. His unopened beer was at his side, “You’re outside, alone, in the cold and you look pretty fucking sad.”

You scoffed, fingers still playing with the strands of grass as you tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make you seem pathetic. In that time, Eddie took you in.

He knew you, he’d seen you around school and you were nice enough to greet him. Pleasantries in passing. Pretty Hallway Girl, as you’d been dubbed—though never referred to as—until he knew your name. It had been the first one he had jotted down on his list for his secret admirer’s identity, of course he realized with your lack of interactions, it wasn’t likely. He entertained the idea of dating you often, you’d just never shown any real interest in him. Eddie thought about it a lot. Anytime he caught sight of you, really. Your pretty face didn’t make it easy for him to stop. He was a really, really big sucker for your eyes and that smile you’d give him during those brief interactions; like the two of you had some sort of secret between each other. Warmed him up inside.

And here you were, all sad at a party. He didn’t really mind not getting crossed if it meant he got to comfort you, keep you company.

“I’m just drunk,” you finally blurted out, unable to come up with anything else, “And bummed.”

Try devastated.

“You look it,” he joked, nudging his shoulder against yours.

“You don’t look that much better.” You shot back.

“That’s fair,” he sighed, breath visible in the night air as he tilted his head back. “I’m pretty bummed, myself.”

You really didn’t want to ask, figuring he’d already had some sort of lover’s quarrel with Chrissy and you didn’t want to get in the middle of it.

But you were an idiot, so you asked, “Why are you bummed?”

You watched him dig around the pockets of his leather jacket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out of the pack, clenching it in between his teeth as he shoved the pack back into the pocket before he shrugged off the jacket entirely—denim vest included—putting it around your shoulders.

It caught you off guard but you were grateful, your body having decided to become once more susceptible to the chill of the air and dewy grass. Eddie must have been a freaking space heater because the lining inside was blissfully warm.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, shimmying around in it until you could slip your arms into the long sleeves of it, your fingers barely poking past the hem.

“You’re welcome,” he shrugged, flicking the lighter to life as he lit the cigarette. After he’d taken a drag, he answered you.

“Love,” Eddie blew out along with a wispy plume of smoke, “Didn’t expect it to be so complicated.”

You wanted to mime the action of staking yourself in the heart. Of course he was in love with her. She was wonderful! And on top of that, he thought she’d been the one leaving him roses! Had he read the note? Assumed it was her, too? DUH! You were definitely playing sick next week.

“Yeah, well. Join the club,” you grumbled, hugging his jacket around you. It was as close as you were ever gonna get to actually hugging him.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, hoping to school his disappointment. While he wasn’t looking for anyone else tonight, it was still displeasing to hear you were taken but of course you were. He couldn’t imagine you dating sporadically, you seemed much too wonderful for someone to even consider giving you up. No, he was gonna hurt himself with ideas involving you and a high school sweetheart stemming back to your freshman days, probably.

“Ah, I see. Is he here?”

You froze for a moment, “Uhm, yeah. He is.”

“Then why come? Or did it happen in there?” He jabbed a thumb behind him, gesturing to the party inside.

“No, it didn’t happen tonight, it was earlier. In the day. I didn’t really want to come but my best friend dragged me out here. I thought I was doing good, apparently not ‘cause here I am. I’m mostly bummed because of myself, though. I didn’t follow through on something I sort of promised myself and I messed everything up. For me. Not for him. I think he’s pretty happy, so I don’t want to ruin that. He deserves to be happy.”

Eddie could tell you meant it, you were vague as hell but whatever you’d done, however it ended, you genuinely seemed to want your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) to be happy. He hoped it wasn’t something you had to cave into for one of those meatheads. You deserved better than those jerks.

“That’s pretty selfless of you if you ask me,” Eddie raised the cigarette to his lips, admiring you.

“Eh, I guess. I fully plan on punishing myself for it, though. Really make sure to rub the salt in there, you know?” You finally turned to grin at him, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.

Eddie thought about how he couldn’t just stop going to school so he could avoid having to look at all the faces in the crowds and wonder if his admirer is one of them.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m right there with you.”

Sweetheart. He really was trying to kill you.

“Eddie, get your ass in there and make up with her.” You lightly slapped his arm and jabbed your finger in the direction of the house. You were not about to let your sacrifice be in vain and he’d better stop unknowingly torturing you like this.

“I can’t!” He laughed, amused with your sudden bossy attitude.

“Why not?” You whined, eager to just get him away from you. It wasn’t fair, he wasn’t being fair.

“Because I have no idea who she is.”

Once again you froze, eyes widening. Luckily for you, Eddie didn’t look too much into your reaction. He figured most people would be surprised over him nursing a heartbreak from someone he didn’t quite actually know, or was aware that he knew.

“What?” You asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible as you played with the ends of his jacket sleeves.

“Fuck it. Someone left me roses all around the school and this really amazing love note.” For a moment, Eddie entertained the idea of trying to convey exactly what it meant to him, then he thought better of it. He’d either seem crazy, desperate or like some pathetic guy in love (which, he kind of was on the cusp of), “Pretty sure it was a girl.”

Not a single dude in the high school was romantic enough to pull it off, maybe leave him an entire bouquet, but not expand upon it like she had.

Eddie licked his lips, raising the cigarette to them once more and ready to admit that he had no fucking clue who she was, but he figured he might as well make one last rally.

“Wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

“Not me,” you lied flawlessly, with a gentle shake of your head. “Sorry, Eddie.”

Sorry I’m a big liar because HOLY FUCKING SHIT, wasn’t expecting that.

“I figured. Still had to try, your boyfriend probably would have kicked my ass, though.” Yeah, Eddie hated Valentine’s Day.

He stubbed the cigarette out into the wet grass, and laid the rest of the way down, hands covering his eyes as the back of his head met the ground.

You frowned down at him.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Hello.

Eddie peaked at you through his fingers, “No?”

You shook your head and as Eddie moved to push himself back up, he yelped.

He shifted onto his side, digging around his pocket for whatever it was that stabbed him.

“Ouch,” He hissed, yanking the purple pen out. “Damn, that hurt like a bitch.”

Your eyes squinted at it in suspicion.

“Is that my pen?”

“Huh?”

“My favorite—and pricey—pen. I lost it at school today.” In fact, you were sure you had and you were sure that was your pen. You’d broken off the clip of it by accident and you recognized the large crack in the body of it, having once given into an intrusive thought regarding whether or not you had the strength to break it while you were bored in class. You did have the strength and luckily for you, it still worked.

When Eddie made no move to give your pen back, you figured he didn’t believe you so you added, “The ink is pink, right?”

Eddie continued to stare at you, mouth slightly parted in awe, and you suddenly felt very nervous, glancing behind you to see if there was something that caught his attention but all you could see were the empty lawns.

“What?”

He finally blinked, licking his lips again.

“You’re a really good liar.”

“What?” You repeated, this time your question was laced more so with confusion than panic. He was right, but why was he saying that?

His lips slowly parted up at the corners until he was grinning at you so wide, his dimples were showing and you could feel your heart beating wildly against your rib cage, as if it was trying to break free to fly right over to him.

“This is your pen?”

“Yes!” Is that what his happiness was about? That he was holding your prized pen hostage?

“This is your pen?” You could tell he was having fun at your expense now, getting more giddy by the minute.

“Yes!” You laughed out, his joy contagious even if he was teasing you with your own belongings. “That is my pen. Give me my pen!”

He clicked it closed with his thumb, “I found it where we hold Hellfire sessions, same pen that was used to write my love note.”

And just like that, your heartbeat seemed to stop all together, smile dropping instantly as you wished a giant hole could form in the ground below you and swallow you up.

“That’s not my pen,” you denied, shrugging off his jacket as you quickly rose to your feet. “I gotta go, bye, Eddie.”

When you saw him starting to hastily rise, you bolted, literally running back into the house to try to find Heather and get the hell out of there.

You heard Eddie frantically calling your name but you didn’t stop, forcing your way through the bodies as you desperately searched for your best friend.

Luck was finally on your side because you were soon smashed into her back by a passing group.

“Whoa,” she laughed, turning to steady you, “There you are, I’ve been searching for you everywh—hey, what’s wrong?”

You were sure she must have noticed the panic on your face, eyes shiny with tears you refused to let fall in public.

“I wanna go home, we have to leave.” You grabbed her hand, pulling her into a secluded corner as your head darted in the direction of the front door. You wanted to make a run for it but you feared running into Eddie on the way.

“What happened?” Heather asked, voice initially soft before hardening as her protective nature came out, “Did someone do something?”

You shook your head, chest heaving with your breaths. You were so close to having a panic attack.

“Eddie. He knows. He knows, Heather.” And because she was your best friend, she understood, mouth and eyes going wide.

“Holy crap. Wait—isn’t this what you wanted?”

“No—yes—I don’t know! I can’t face him!” There was a reason you hadn’t written your name down on the note, regardless of how badly you wanted to. You were just scared.

“Why not?” She bent down, leaned in closer to hear you. This girl and her twenty questions.

“It doesn’t matter, he didn’t want it to be me, anyways. He would’ve asked earlier, and he only did it now because of that stupid pen!” You should have kept your mouth shut and just gone to buy another over the weekend, “Can we just please get out of here? We can try the side gate in the backyard.”

“Is Eddie looking for you?”

“Yes, that’s why we have to leave!” Whatever Eddie had to say, you didn’t want to hear it. Yeah, maybe he could want you but if he didn’t, was searching for you to let you down gently you’d be heartbroken.

“He knows and you don’t think he wanted it to be you?”

“Yes!”

“Then why would he be looking for you?”

You refused to answer her, pushing her towards the back door instead. She went willingly for a few steps, then Heather stopped and you bumped into her back again as she craned her neck to look over her shoulder.

“I think it's too late for that.” She pointed at something behind you and you followed her finger.

Eddie was standing on top of the kitchen table a bunch of guys had carried into the living room to play beer pong on, eyes searching the room with his lips set in a frown.

He was attracting attention, a multitude of heads turning to peer up at him in curiosity.

Oh, god. He was looking for you, you were probably going to get rejected at a fucking Valentine’s Day party in some stranger’s living room.

Eddie must have caught the attention of someone near the sound system because the volume of the music was lowered and you could hear everyone muttering amongst themselves, asking what had happened to the music before they noticed Eddie.

He glanced around, not even a little nervous at the amount of people staring at him. He hadn’t planned on making a huge show of it, figured they were all too drunk to pay him any attention, luckily he was used to being a spectacle.

Eddie used it to his advantage, calling out your full name.

The crowd muttered, everyone looking at each other in confusion or maybe trying to catch sight of you.

It wasn’t long before someone recognized you, head turning in your direction, followed by many more—a domino effect—until just about everyone was staring at you, including Eddie.

He hopped off the table and made his way towards you, crowd parting to allow him. Heather slipped her hand into yours at your side, giving you a reassuring squeeze before she too stepped away, leaving you to finally face Eddie.

Eddie didn’t look at anyone else, gaze trained solely on you.

“Hi, again.”

You blinked, unable to keep yourself from glancing at the crowd around you, curious—nosey—to see what would happen next.

Guess you were going to have to finally face reality, no more running. You didn’t think you could break through the crowd, anyways.

“Hi,” you whispered but you knew Eddie had heard you, his lips pursed into a smile, eyes lighting up when you didn’t shut down.

“You ran away before I could tell you how I feel.” Eddie took another step, pretty much invading your personal space but he was desperate to be close to you and maybe body block you in case you tried to flee. He didn’t want you to run away again, to disappear like he feared you had when you hadn’t left your name on the note.

“It’s only fair, right? Since I know?”

You nodded again, the drum of your heartbeat loud in your ears. You were surprised you could hear Eddie over it.

Eddie stared down at you, lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t look upset or frustrated. It looked like he was thinking about something.

Little did you know he was reciting the note in his head to give him some courage, he’d memorized it.

He didn’t leave you waiting for long.

“I admire you. A lot.” Your breath hitched as the words you’d jotted down were repeated to you, “So much that I want to stand on expensive looking, antique tables and crash parties for you. I like the way you get animated when you talk, the way you give into your intrusive thoughts at the most random of times—yeah, I saw you trying to see if your finger fit in the pencil sharpener in the library once—I like how kind you are, even when people don’t deserve it.

“I like how you’ve never made me feel ostracized, never made anybody feel like that and I like how dramatic you are—storming off, making an exit, falling flat on your face in hallways then staying there like a dead body before you decide to reanimate again once you’re done being embarrassed. I like how you beat up your locker when it won’t open and then you give it a couple of pats to apologize once it finally does.”

Eddie chuckled at those particular memories, having been thoroughly amused when watching you and you feel your face get hot at being the cause of his cute laugh.

“And I really like your face, your pretty eyes, all of this,” Eddie gestured to you, to all of you from head to toe, “… you’re beautiful. Although, I gotta say, you drove me really fucking crazy today. Made me feel emotions I didn’t know I was capable of feeling and you scared the shit out of me when I thought I’d never get to know who the person I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with is.”

Okay, maybe you didn’t want the ground to swallow you whole.

“I know we only have a couple of months left of school and you’re probably going off to continue being amazing at some college in some big city a million miles away—‘cause that’s my luck—but I’m willing to work with that. I want to drive those million miles to give you flowers and hold your hand, kiss you, listen to you complain about your bad days, hear you brag about your good ones, kill all the bugs you’re afraid of—even though some of them freak me out, you make me feel brave, too—and just be all around disgustingly domestic with you.

“And yes, that includes all the not so fun domestic stuff like fights—which we’ll get over, I’ll do just about anything, even cave first, if you give me those big, coy eyes of yours—and taxes. I want to do it all with you. If you’ll have me.” Eddie ended, eyes wide and just a little out of breath.

There it was. He’d thrown it all out there, everything he wanted to offer (because he wanted to give you everything, even though it kind of terrified him).

And you—you were just staring at him, left to gape at him since you’d expected… well, you hadn’t really known what to expect since you usually ran from the consequences—be they good or bad—of your actions.

He wanted to be with you. Holy crap, Eddie Munson wanted to be your boyfriend. Wanted to do boyfriend things like visit you at college and hold your hand. You’d thought, the whole time, it had just been you observing him. You never thought he’d be observing you, too. It all sounded too good to be true, you couldn’t really think, couldn’t really form words.

You didn’t have to, Eddie grew anxious, maybe even a little impatient despite having decided the moment you’d run away from him in the front yard that he’d chase after you for as long as it took him to get you to give him a chance.

He found himself blurting out his strongest desire, “Can I kiss you?”

This was it, you were faced with another opportunity, and this one was the actual last opportunity you had to tell him how you feel, without any anonymity. No more hiding, no more running.

“Yeah,” you breathed out and he was on you before you’d even finished saying that singular word, his surprisingly soft lips pressing desperately against yours as his hands moved to frame your face, one of his thumbs stroking along your cheek.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as you returned the kiss and just like that, what he intended to be a simple but firm kiss, turned into your lips moving against each other, a little wet and enough to have Eddie want to pop his leg up like in the fucking movies.

The only reason he kept himself from introducing his tongue to yours like he so badly wanted to was the sounds of encouragement around him; cheering and hollering. You broke away, having also heard your peers whooping and wolf whistling, to hide your face in his chest, bashfulness returning full force.

Eddie laughed and kissed the top of your head, unable to contain his grin and joy. He definitely wasn’t used to this, more accustomed to jeering, not cheering. A couple of people even clapped him on the shoulder.

“You know what, I think they’re rooting for us, sweetheart.”

You pulled away just enough to look up at him, offering a small, pleased smile of your own.

“They’re not the only ones.”

Well, he had to give you some tongue for that one. The cheering and sounds of excitement got louder as he did.

— You hadn’t walked into school hand in hand with Eddie when Monday came around—though you’d spent pretty much the entire weekend with him, driving around town, lounging around your room (he’d come in through your window) and making out—he hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting up in the parking lot and you weren’t offended in the slightest. While you wanted to see him, you appreciated the extra time to calm your excited nerves before you did.

Heather ran up to you the second you made it to your locker, grin stretching from ear to ear.

“I still can’t believe it. It didn’t even happen to me and I’m pinching myself because of how romantic it was!”

“Imagine how I feel,” You were all smiles as you turned the combination for your locker. But of course, since it was openly known as one of, if not, the shittiest of lockers in the school—having belonged to several wrestlers and football players before you, who’d evidently cared for it on the rough side—it didn't budge when you tugged at it.

You wouldn’t miss it when you graduated.

With a sigh, you pulled the straps of your backpack off of your shoulders and handed it to Heather. Then, you yanked aggressively at the small locker handle. It was your routine though, so you knew it wouldn’t open then, either. It was only when you slammed your fist against it, after all the yanking, that it opened.

Roses immediately flooded out of it, piling onto the ground at your feet. You and Heather watched with open mouths, glancing at passersby, who also looked on in surprise, until your stuffed locker finally finished its floral avalanche.

“Like ‘em?”

You jumped up, and then internally scolded yourself for almost trampling a couple of your flowers. You carefully twisted around to face Eddie, who was leaning back against the row of lockers behind you, smug smirk on his handsome face.

“Yeah, what are all of these for?” You asked, still marveling at them as he pushed himself off the lockers to wrap his arms around your middle and press a kiss to the side of your head.

“I realized I never got to ask you to be my Valentine or give you flowers. So, I bought some Saturday morning,” They were on sale so he’d gone purposely overboard, “used my uncle’s collection of mugs as vases to keep them alive, then woke up at the asscrack of dawn this morning to get here before you did. I probably broke your locker even more, by the way. So, be my Valentine?”

“I’m pretty sure it was part of the terms and agreements of our relationship, but yes. I’ll be your Valentine.”

Eddie closed your locker for you, pressing his weight against it to make sure it was secure and no more roses would escape before he scooped up the ones that had fallen out, arranging them into a large bouquet which he handed to you, leaning in to give you a kiss.

You hummed happily against his lips, nose wrinkling in glee when you felt him smile.

Eddie let out a content sigh when you parted before glancing to his side at your gawking best friend.

“Hey, Heather.” Eddie wasn’t at all bothered by the audience. “Nice shoes.”

“Thanks! They’re new. You done sucking face?”

“For now,” he promised, then turned his attention back to you. “I’ll see you later, beautiful. I’ve got a test to barely pass. Gotta make sure I walk that stage with you.”

Eddie pinched your cheek, pressed another kiss to your forehead and rushed off down the hall. You’d barely locked eyes with Heather when Eddie came running back, taking your face in his hands as he muttered something about one more and gave you a kiss that had you a little shaky on your feet.

‘One more’ actually turned out to mean a couple more pecks before he really forced himself away, blowing you a kiss just as he disappeared around the corner.

“He’s whipped,” Heather stated.

“Pretty sure I’m falling in love with him.”

“That’s appropriate.” You both nodded before you turned to face your closed locker, arms full of sweet smelling roses.

“. . . You still need to get your books, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Heather slid her arms through the straps of your backpack, over her front, so she could hold your flowers for you as you prepared to battle your locker again. It was totally worth it.

─

Eddie never ended up giving you your pen back, it’s the one he used to write love letters to you while you were away at college.

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grimace-writes · 5 months

Text

New Kid in Town *.•.*•

No.1

GN!Reader x Task Force 141 (feat. Alejandro + Roldolfo)

| No.1 | No.2 | No.3 | No.4 | Masterlist |

Summary: Reader’s first day on base meeting the team.

Word count: 1670

(3rd Person POV | They/Them so anyone can read :) | Early to Mid Twenties)

Mentions of Anxiety/Panic Attack.

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“Just remember to give it your all, kiddo! They’ll love you”

The words of their mentor ran through their mind as the plane landed on the strip, the rattling of the cabin alerting them of their arrival. It felt like dumb luck that they were chosen as a new addition for Task Force 141, hand selected by Captain John Price himself. Being a military brat meant they were basically trained from birth for active duty, {Y/N}’s skills were highly respected by their superiors (no matter how much they had their own doubts).

Sun rays filled {Y/N}’s eyes as they used their free hand to shade their face enough to make the descent down the stairs safer. There waited for them was a young man with dark skin around his late-twenties next to Capt. Price, {Y/N} assumed the man was one of his new teammates.

“Greeting {C/N}. Glad to see you again, mate. I hope the flight here didn’t treat ya too badly..” Price shook their hand with a warm smile on his lips, he gestured to his left toward the other male “..Meet Sergeant Kyle Garrick.. Code name Gaz. He’ll be acting as your guide around the base as I’m busy with a few meetings I have today. I was hoping to show you around myself, but it couldn’t be helped. Speaking of which, I’m a tad late..See ya at lunch” The older male sighed giving {Y/N}’s shoulder a welcoming squeeze as he gave Gaz a wink before leaving the two of them.

Y/N turned their attention to the slightly taller male for further instruction, they were able to take a better look at him. He was so youthful and frankly handsome, his light facial hair outlined his jaw nicely, his smile caused their chest to feel warmer. Gaz stood with confidence as he held his hand out to {Y/N} “Sup, like the cap said, I’m Gaz.”

‘This might not actually be so bad..’

They took Gaz’s hand in a firm handshake, as they did so Gaz pulled them into a bro-hug, his smile never breaking. “It’s great to finally have someone on the team closer in age. Let’s start this tour with your room, so you don’t have to lug that around the whole time.” Gaz let {Y/N} go walking towards the hanger, leaving them a little dumbfounded by the sudden physical contact.

‘Mmmm..Not what I was expecting, Gaz is a hugger, noted. I wonder if the others will be the same..’ They thought to themselves slinging their duffle bag over their shoulder, taking long strides to catch up with their interesting colleague.

Gaz filled the silence between them with small details of the base, from passing the training halls to the recreation area as they made the long way to the barracks (basically showing them everything). {Y/N} started to feel a slight annoyance start to build in their mind as they recalled what Gaz said earlier, it seemed they ended up just carrying their stuff the whole way. The feeling spiked as the two finally made it to their destination and Gaz had a cheeky smirk on his lip. He leaned against the frame of {Y/N}’s new room, luckily for them the base had adequate space for each member of 141 to have private quarters.

{Y/N} smacked their lips towards Gaz causing the male to snort in response, they placed their hand on that door handle but stopped themselves before proceeding. “Is it unlocked?” They asked, not wanting to feed into Gaz’s mischief further, all they wanted was to unpack and take a few minutes to settle in.

“Yeah, don’t worry I’m not gonna make you run into the door. Plus the key should be inside, along with a small map of the base just in case. Though I’m an awesome tour guide so I doubt you’ll be needing it.” Gaz boasted himself, this time it was {Y/N} who scoffed.

“Absolutely, one hundred percent..” They said, opening the door to the 140 square foot room, which was furnished with a plain colored full sized bed, a large wardrobe, and a basic oak desk and matching desk chair. {Y/N} placed the duffle bag on the bed then laced their fingers together to quickly stretch and crack them. They hummed at the satisfying feeling it gave as he turned back to Gaz who was now standing in the doorway.

“Since I showed you everything, I’m gonna leave you to hang out and settle in before lunch time. I’ll be in the training hall if you need anything or get bored. See you later, {C/N}” He said, closing the door for them with a small wave, which they returned.

They waited a few minutes before they let out the deep sigh they didn’t realize they were holding in. Pushing the bag to the end of the end, {Y/N} crawled onto to bed, creaking under their weight. They wrapped their arms around their head, moving their legs close to their chest as they hid into themselves. From learning of their new post to the moment they stepped foot on base, the situation hadn’t set in until now.

The intense sound of their heartbeat filled the negative space, minutes felt like hours whilst they laid curled into themselves. They meekly hummed a snippet of a song their Mother would sing when {Y/N} would have episodes like this at home. It had been a while since they felt so frightened by a decision, they always went from one mission to another like they were ordered to do. The feeling of making their own decision on their career was so freeing yet so overwhelming, it made their head spin and their heart sink. {Y/N} took a couple deep breaths then stretched their limbs out, sitting up on their bed to check the time. ‘Only twenty minutes..That’s good, I didn’t waste too much time.’

They moved off the bed over to the desk, picking up the simple key ring with a single key on it that laid on a map of the base. They ran their thumb over the key, the cool metal feeling nice on their warm skin, before placing it back on the desk. They thought the best next course of action was to unpack, change into their new uniform, then head to meet up with the rest of their team for lunch. It took them only 30 minutes to finish their tasks before they made their way out of their room, locking the door behind them as they went. {Y/N} had the map folded in their pocket just in case, but Gaz in fact was a good tour guide, so getting to their destination was easy.

The sound of a few men laughing echoed through the hallway leading to the entrance of the mess hall, which was more like a mini makeshift dining and recreation room with a decent sized kitchen area. The team had strong feelings their bond would grow stronger if they made homemade meals together. As {Y/N} entered the room, they saw Price by the stove with a gentle looking Hispanic man chopping vegetables nearby. Sitting at the table was Gaz, along with another Hispanic man widely smiling, a loud laughing Scottish Man, and..{Y/N} almost couldn’t believe their eyes as the Ghost sat with the rest of his teammates. Alongside Capt.Price, his reputation was well known, even his mentor had a run in with Ghost.

Gaz was the first one to acknowledge {Y/N}’s presence in the room as he waved his hand high, greeting them in a chipper tone. “Hey {C/N}. Glad to see you decided to join us, time to meet the rest of the gang.” {Y/N} took a seat next to the excited male, looking at each person as they were introduced. “First off, we have Sergeant John Mactavish call him Soap..” Said male flashed {Y/N} a flirtatious smile with a wink. “..Then, Colonel Alejandro Vargas of the Mexican Special Forces," Alejandro raised his glass as a welcoming gesture. "As well as his second in command Sergeant Major Roldolfo Parra or Rudy. He’s the one next to Price over there.”

Rudy turned to the table after hearing his name to wave at {Y/N}, his smile was as warm and welcoming at Price’s was. Their attention turned to the final member to be introduced, his gaze intense making them feel a bit nervous. “Last but not least, we have Lieutenant Simon Riley better known as Ghost.” The lieutenant gave his new teammate a nod for a reply, turning his gaze to a different part of the room. “Don’t take his cold shoulder personally, the LT is a big softie when you get to know him.” Soap chimed in causing Gaz and Ale to snicker.

“Either way it’s nice to meet you all. I’m Sergeant {F/N L/N], my alias is {C/N}. I look forward to working with you all.” They spoke confidently as they sat back in their chair, feeling more part of the group as they chatted. They were asked about little things like where they were from and their experiences to their hobbies and interests. It was mainly Gaz, Soap, and Ale who asked, Ghost just sat there listening intently locking away their answers for future use.

The conversation ended when Price and Rudy placed the components of their shared meal onto the table. Soap and Gaz were instructed to grab plates and utensils as {Y/N}, Ghost, and Ale took turns washing their hands. During their chat it was explained how chores and meal prep were divided equally amongst them, with {Y/N} now here they would have to do some adjustments. Any anxiety or doubts about joining were starting to melt away as they ate and laughed amongst their new colleagues.

‘This really isn’t gonna be so bad..’

•*.•*~To Be Continued~*•.*•

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Author Note: Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story. Let me know what you think, Love Love~ 💕💕

| No.1 | No.2 | No.3 | No.4 | Masterlist |

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silveryclear · 6 months

Text

Hide and seek

MDNI ALL CONTENT REGARDING STNAF IS 18+ AND SO IS THIS BLOG

Friend belongs to @stnaf-vn

Pairing: Friend/ AFAB Reader

CW: Sensitive Content, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Implied Murder, Drugging, Panic Attacks

A/N: The writing process for chapter 7 of the STNAF Coraline AU is coming a bit slower than expected, so here’s some angst while you wait heheh.

Your keys jingle uncontrollably as you try to balance the groceries on one hand while trying to unlock the door. The TV must’ve drowned your knocking and incessant ringing because the babysitter’s presence was nowhere to be found. Once you had managed to find your way to the kitchen and place the bags on the counter, you walk towards the living room; only to find it empty. And a mess.

You roll your eyes at this as you pick up the remote and turn it off. “Kids, how many times have I told you to turn off the electronics when you’re not using them?” You yell as you tidy up around the living room, picking up decor items that were scattered along the floor.

“Did you kids wrestle each other again? I told you to be careful when you play fight!” You sigh and make your way upstairs. To your surprise, your sons were already tucked in and sleeping soundly.

You chuckle and gently close the door. You were thinking about giving the babysitter an earful but they seemed to perform a miracle if they managed to get your kids to bed in time.

Speaking of which, where is the babysitter? You look in the other rooms upstairs, calling out to them. Weird. If they left, they would have given you a call.

Just when you were about to call them, you hear the TV downstairs turn on again. You sigh, feeling as if someone was playing with you like a puppet as you make your way downstairs.

“Hey, I was just about to call you. Thank you for getting the boys to bed early. It’s always a struggle for me so I’m willing to forget about the mess—“

The rest of the words die in your throat as your gaze lands on the person sitting on the couch. The one person you least expected to appear, sitting nonchalantly as you stared at them paralyzed in fear.

Friend smiles sweetly at you, taking the remote control and lowering the volume. His signature blonde hair on full display, however, he’s changed— grown. His muscles flex with every movement and he sports a trimmed beard, all adding to his mature look. His voice got slightly deeper as well.

“I’m glad! We just tussled around in the living room for a while until they were all out of energy. Sorry for the mess, I wasn’t expecting you to arrive so soon.”

You could hear Friend talking but his words were partly drowned by a ringing in your ears. Your hands trembled as your breathing grew ragged. You couldn’t see, you couldn’t hear. You were back in that basement, an IV strapped to your arm as you remember your slow and steady descent into madness— convinced that you loved the man that is standing now in front of you.

“Sweetheart, baby, you need to breathe. Breathe for me, come on…” He says in a sickeningly concerned voice. You don’t want to listen to him, but you can’t afford to pass out, not when your children are upstairs, unaware of the person who is in their home.

Oh god, he was playing with them… how long has he been here? Where’s the babysitter??

“Baby, no, come on. Stay with me.”

“Stay with me, please.” He whimpers. “I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart…”

Flashbacks infiltrate your mind and you can feel yourself falling into that same place you had worked so hard to crawl out of. You push Friend away and glare at him, tears brimming the corner of your eyes. You pant heavily.

“Stay away from me…” you whisper at him, your voice filled with such rage it genuinely took Friend aback. “Stay away from them…”

Friend recovers and smiles softly at you, as if you hadn’t basically sent him to hell with your expression. “You know I can’t do that baby…” He murmurs softly, slowly reaching out his hand to caress your cheek.

You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, doing your best to ignore his gentle touch and gaze— the ones he weaponized to keep you isolated with no one to rely on except him.

You look at him again to see him staring at you you with such an affectionate expression, tears brimming his eyes as he gazes at you. It almost makes you waver.

“I have sons…” he murmurs with the softest most proud voice ever. “You gave me children…” Friend’s voice trembles at the end of the sentence, but he smiles in awe of you.

He reaches out hold your hands and you don’t react, staying silent. “I’m sorry…” he whispers before bringing your hands to his lips and kissing them gently. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for you… but I’m here now.” He gives you the widest of smiles. His expression, albeit more mature, still holds that same obsession from years ago. “We can be a family again. You, me, and the triplets.”

You let your tears fall freely as you shake your head, sniffling. “We can’t…”

“Shhh…” Friend slowly wraps his arms around you and embraces you. You begin to sob, trembling in his embrace. “We can and we will…” He rubs your back soothingly as you sob harder from his words. “I searched high and low for you, baby… I haven’t slept in six years.” His embrace becomes tighter, constricting. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.” He whispers deep and firm, his possessiveness creeping in through his voice.

“No no no no…” You cry out, squirming in his grasp with no hope to escape. He’s gotten bigger, stronger.

“Sweetheart, don’t cry. You know this is what’s best for us. Think of the children. Do you really want them to grow up without a father?”

You shake your head, your eyes closed shut as you do your best to drown out his manipulative words. You know what’s best for your children. You’ve done what’s best for them.

“I did think of them… why do you think I escaped?”

Friend tenses for a moment, his expression hard. It quickly melts into the affectionate smile he usually had with you and only you.

“A momentary lapse of judgment on my part. I should have done better to show you how much I love you.” His hold on you tightens. “I should have kept you in the basement.”

“No, Friend please…” You whimper, crying on his shoulder. You can’t. You can’t go back there. You can’t let your children grow up in this environment, thinking that whatever twisted love Friend felt for you was healthy.

“It’s okay, baby… I’ve already taken care of everything.” He coos softly. “Let me take care of the four of you now…”

His words are like molasses as they stick to your mind and infiltrate your senses. You’re reminded of the way he “takes care” of things and you remember the disappearing babysitter— along with the disappearance of your closest friends and colleagues in the past. Flashbacks of your descent into madness flood back and you thrash against him. Your cries turning into screaming.

Friend sighs and takes out something from his pocket. “I didn’t want to do this…” Suddenly, you feel a prick on your arm and slowly everything begins to swirl into darkness.

“Nooo…” You whimper softly, your eyes half lidded.

“Shhh… just sleep. When you wake up, these past six years would have felt like a bad dream~”

You can only hope these past few minutes were the bad dream as you slowly fall unconscious in your best friend’s arms.

#yandere #fanfic #stnaf #yandere writing #yandere x reader #friend x reader #stnaf friend #stnafgame #💾 see thru need a friend game

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tumblingxelian · 3 months

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Wednesday Fanfic Concept - The Traumatized Time Traveler

Summary: Enid watches as her new roommate stares her down, glassy eyes wide as she offers her hand, the words "Wednesday Friday Addams," Escaping her mouth in an almost pained whisper.

Smiling brightly she grasps it, not too firmly given Wednesday looks like she might be bowled over by a stiff breeze and she cheerily greets her.

"I'm so glad you're here Wednesday, I'm Enid asiménio oíko Sinclair."

Her gaze flickered to the adults and she could only wonder...

Why were they giving Wednesday such shocked stares?

Concept:

Wednesday failed. Everyone died, even if Crackstone was killed there was no one left to celebrate just a mass of cooling corpses beneath the Blood Moon.

Goody, uses a back up plan involving all the energy from the recently dead Outcasts, the forests she cursed and Blood Moon to send Wednesday back.

But this means she is no longer around and Wednesday... Well the experience has kind of broken her. What's more the story is told entirely from the outsider point of view of other characters.

Her confidence has basically been destroyed by having been played so deeply and failed so terribly. She's being eaten alive by guilt from the past life and by her indecision born of trauma in this new life.

She believes she will go insane, possibly soon because she has lost access to her ancestors. She is suffering ghost pains for wounds she never got specifically in her hand, stomach and head, which can be debilitating.

Let alone the unwilling mutism which emerges when she feels overwhelmed, or the stray panic attacks and shut downs when confronted by people like Tyler or Thornhill.

Wednesday knows who the enemy is and what their plan is, but she's so fractured that anytime she tries to take action she starts shutting down.

Worse still she takes all of this to be curses so even the stuff that psychologically or medication could help with is off the table at first.

From Enid's perspective her roommate is just like, this extremely delicate and not very expressive psychic who she becomes incredibly protective of from like minute 1.

Thing is trying to decode how or why Wednesday suffered such a violent shift in personality. He believes its visions but can that alone explain it?

Also Wednesday's trauma doesn't only manifest in her being more fragile.

I have this idea in mind where after her first therapy session (Which goes better) Weems tries to take her out for coffee to bond. She does not grasp how desperately Wednesday wants to avoid this until she was briefly separated from her and Wednesday either shuts down or legs it to the car when confronted by Tyler and his dad.

Cue Wednesday returning to her empty rom room and having a world class destructive meltdown. One where she destroys a ton of her own possessions in a rage before collapsing when Enid finds her, falling into a panic attack at the thought of her leaving,

Enid ends up having to coax her through it with Kinbott on the phone before basically keeping Wednesday snuggled in her lap for the next few hours. Which also involves a lot of self loathing spilling out as she vents about how "Broken" and "Not meant to be this way" she is.

Some other factors include:

Enid being set off by Thornhill early on cos the woman is insistent on barging into their room to "Greet Wednesday" despite Enid telling her she's gone to bed & generally being kind of pushy.

This ad her discussion with Thing once Thornhill has been harried out of the room and forced to give them both detentions before Wednesday fell asleep again, reminds Enid of some near forgotten history with the teacher.

Namely of she and Thornhill having once been very close but going past her boundaries with stuff like, "Maybe I can help you wolf out?" only to grow very distant when Enid said she had to contact her pack elders to discuss any medical treatments.

Basically, Enid was Thornhills first pick for "Pet monster" but while Enid lacked a good support network in family she has a strong sense of cultural loyalty to the pack & is subtly leery of humans.

The West Wolf Packs also did not approve of some human pushing in on one of theirs. Weems obscured it as mere cultural ignorance and the diverse cultural and psychological developments of Outcasts mean the grooming attempts were not quite picked up on.

Rowan probably hangs around longer as a threat or maybe avoids death, which only enchances ENid's protectiveness and presents a constant underlying danger.

Xavier's also much worse here because Wednesday isn't outright hostile to him thanks to the trauma and her guilt. Thus he feels that the only thing keeping him & Wednesday apart is Enid + Yoko/Bianca when Enid's not around.

Weems and the Addams do try to intervene and speculate on why Wednesday changed so much, most think some kind of traumatic vision response.

Morticia: We grew so worried that there was hushed talk of seeking to cancel her arrival at Nevermore and seek some other deal with the courts. But when Wednesday heard our concern it was like it lit a fire in her little black heart again she raged at being treated so delicately. I had hoped this a passing thing because of that, but it seems the wound is deeper than I realized.

Chapters:

I have more chapters in mind for this but in broad strokes:

Chapter 1: Enid is very excited if a touch nervous to meet her new roomie & find Wednesday to be a fragile and shy girl who needs space from crowds during the tour. They communicate by sign for a bit and Enid gets a version of the Piranha story and promises to set the record on Wednesday straight with her just protecting family and not killing. Wednesday is also subtly clingy and clearly very tried.

Enid skips the rest of class to help Wednesday set up their room, and discovers her shaking hand and helps sooth it thanks to her own nerve endings being unique due to the claws. Wednesday has an early night but Thornhill pushes in (Acting off outdated info on Wednesday's personality) and tries to make her feel 'special'

This only serves to panic Wednesday and she's borderline forced out of the room by Enid. She ends up giving her detention which does make Wednesday act, demanding she have one too. Thornhill plans to use said detention to try 'bonding stage 2' and agrees. Wednesday is coaxed back to sleep then Enid finds Thing and they chat and agree Thornhill feels sketchy.

Chapter 2: Wednesday's sleep is obviously quite troubled so even with an early night she doesn't seem super rested. But she joins Enid for breakfast and exchanges class info with Yoko & Divina who subtly agree to keep an eye on her in classes Enid does not share.

Enid needs to leave to speak with Weems and manages to basically char the principle into letting them off detention by being very careful with her words. This being one of the reasons Weems felt Enid would be a good room mate for Wednesday too.

While this was happening however Xavier approached Wednesday with his little spider drawing. Divina & Yoko's pre-existing relationship and Wednesday's seeming acceptance made them at first allow it. But it became clear he was making her uncomfortable and getting way to into her space and ignoring their attempts to make him leave.

Then Enid returns and jams her claws into the spider and in swiping the sketchpad off the table places her other claws at Xavier's throat moments before he could start properly yelling.

"Oh sorry!" Her voice is stretched thin like a dying man's scream, "I was trying to swat an uninvited pest." Her lips pull back unnaturally far revealing every pointed fang, "Want to give me a fleshier target?"

Suffice to say Xavier pisses off, but will return to continue being awful. Enid is worried she scared Wednesday but she instead the girl seems very relieve.

There is actually still a fencing match with Bianca and it actually goes on for awhile. Wednesday gets the first round (Thanks to knowing how Bianca will move) But Bianca picks up on the fact Wednesday was not reading her moves & goes full chaotic, and gets the second point. Then they fuel for the third for awhile before Bianca wins and they go off to wash off.

While in the showers though Bianca finds Wednesday's ghost pains playing up though they are not the reason for her loss but we see they confuse and distress her a lot and that she thinks they are a curse not trauma. Bianca is very much not hostile to Wednesday in this who is intern not hostile.

Chapter 3: Wednesday's therapy session with Kinbott goes better than canon. Her guilt over the woman's death does make her talk a little. Plus the negative reputation of Outcasts compounded with the circumstances of the attack (Pugsley) and Wednesday's delicate disposition lead Kinbott to think the reports were all exaggerating her behavior.

Weems takes her to the Weathervane and Wednesday struggles to speak to protest. Because Weems is there the pilgrim boys are not an issue. However Tyler gets a call to the Weathervane from Thornhill as ;apparently; Weems's phone is not working.

He uses this to try and approach Wednesday about a 'rumor' ad then his dad arrives to be all aggressive and posturing. Weems returns to either escort a near catatonic Wednesday out or to find she is basically huddled up in the car outside.

Wednesday returns to her room and has the ensuing meltdown with Weems calling Kinbott for advice. Enid forces her way in and terrified of Enid leaving her Wednesday both starts crying and having a panic attack. After that was soothed and it was promised Galpin would be kept far away from her (With Weems promising to look into his 'nonsense claims) Wednesday stays with Enid and gets the first good nights sleep she had in awhile.

They also have a little talk with Wednesday feeling worthless because she "Cannot do what she needs to" and Enid assuring her she doesn't need to do anything to deserve love. Which Wednesday returns regarding her transformation. Suffice to say, Enid s very adoring of her.

Also Rowan has likely made at least one murder attempt at this point.

Chapter 4: The school day goes well save for some 'accidents' and Wednesday has so far managed to avoid Thornhill who has been updated on Wednesday's disposition and is trying to re-calculate her strategy.

Wednesday also joins the Hummers and is very, very insistent Eugene never enter the forest alone. EVER.

The main focus is actually the harvest festival and cos she slept well Wednesday is closer to normal though be it still clingy with Enid and trying to be a bit more communicative with Yoko & Divina too.

Wednesday: Why does a town without farms have a harvest festival?

Enid: Oh I know this one! Basically, about 200 years ago, the land across the rver where Nevermore is built came ot life. Within a few weeks the forests had grown devouring fields and houses.

Divina: Naturally Outcasts were blamed, as though the land obeys our every whim.

Yoko: Though it could have been some ancient curse coming to life, or just the earth waking up. My Sire hints at this stuff but I won't know till I ascend.

Enid: Yhe point is, the town lost most of its farms and a collection of Outcasts with wealth bought the land, warded it and built Nevermore. Since then Jericho had to move away from farming and into other stuff, like tourist attractions and big game hunting.

Wednesday: I see... (Takes bite of hot dog) A rather apt microcosm of Americas evolution into a theme park dedicated to itself then.

All three laugh.

Tyler shows up again to try and give Wednesday a police report but gets chased off by the girls, but Wednesday 'has' a vision it was a police file about her father

They go om the Ferris wheel while Weems goes to speak with Galpin and there's some talked of calling Galpin with a false tip to see if he is obsessed with Wednesday's dad.

Small town cop is super bigggoted and has an agenda is much easier for them to buy than a monster murdering a guy they saw being alive. Rowan may make some attempts but does not succeed but there's definitely a sense Wednesday is in danger. Bianca may help.

Chapter 5: I have less clear ideas on this, but Wednesday's sessions with Kinbott continue. The general consensus is that Tyler's dad has some beef with Wednesday's. Also there is some subtle guiding towards investigating certain events that will be plot relevant later.

Also Wednesday helps the team with the Po-Cup perhaps. Not sure if she goes ahead t lay traps, or Yoko is snuck onto the island, or if Wednesday just alters the ship. Though I do love the idea of Enid fist fighting a Siren underwater and winning. Also Rowan may use this for another attempt.

After that things grow a bit more vague, hence my not writing it.

Note:

One thing I like exploring is Outcasts actually being, ya know, hated and feared and how this would inform and influence even perky characters like Enid.

Also Wednesday low key may fear Enid likes this version of her better. But does also know how far Enid went for her in the original timeline.

Though yeah she is low key dependent on Enid who doesn't quite realize it or know how to fix it and just wants to protect her.

#Wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday series #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #Wenclair #Text Post

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months

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Putting this here, not because we are arguing over it. But, because I saw a post that reminded me of this. Am I The Asshole for letting my sister buy a meal for my partner, who has anxiety over people spending more than 5 bucks on meals for them?

Before linner (lunch and dinner), we had spent the entire day at the Museum as a double date. Although, I and my cowboy hadn't eaten breakfast except a bunch of bananas that they had packed for us. The museum was closing early that day and we all needed to leave too early to remember breakfast. Basically I knew that they were hungry after a busy day. Even when they denied it, and refused me trying to let me buy expensive museum food for them. (Who in their right mind pays 7 dollars for a handful of mixed berries??? I mean I would've if they asked for it. But YEESH why are they like that?) This is a normal occurrence between us. Where I offer to buy something, or let a family member offer to buy something, and they get hella bad anxiety over it. Usually I would just ask for family members to stop, or compromise with sharing food, or say I'm paying for the experience of watching them enjoy something new. But I really couldn't think of what to say at that moment and I didn't agree with them just not eating all day. This did lead to them having a panic attack in the fast food joint and hiding in the bathroom. Every time I look back at this, I always wished I knew what to say to comfort them. When they came back I tried saying some things, but they didn't touch their food. Only when my sister and her boyfriend left did they scarf their food down. Obviously very hungry. Important Note: My sister told my partner to not bring the packed lunch they wanted to bring. She wanted to pay for the food. I didn't want them to feel left out during linner. So I'm guilty of also encouraging them to not pack a lunch and having food paid for them. I knew that they were gonna most likely panic over getting food, and yet I still let it happen. I just didn't want to let them starve over the day. And my sister and I wanted to include them in our meal together. (Request: If I am deemed an asshole, please don't tell me to break up with my partner. They are genuinely the love of my life and my best friend. I would rather have ways I could've handled situations like this better in the future.)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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blueskittlesart · 6 months

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Hey it's the anon who wants to play BOTW but is egregious bad at video games again. I took your advice and I've shocked myself at how much progress i've made, I got to the goron village, korok forest, and rito village. One current issue is that I am still. SO bad at the combat. Like SO bad. I panic immediately and lose all coordination (which I already had very little of). I managed to get myself killed before I could even get to the point where Sidon GIVES YOU the quest to get to Zora's domain. I completely fumbled through a minor test of strength.

Any tips for improving general combat capabilities. HELP

hi! first of all, i'm gonna go over the basics of combat and how/when you should use them. the game does technically tell you these things, but they come up early game and are pretty easy to miss imo. you might know some of them already tho!

the first thing that's probably going to be really helpful to you if you don't already know about it is enemy targeting. this locks the camera in place on a specific enemy, even within a horde of them, giving you free reign to abandon the right stick and focus on button pressing. to target an enemy, get close and press the left trigger (ZL.) this will also equip your shield if you're using a one-handed weapon, but the targeting is the most important. Once you're locked in on one enemy, so long as you keep the trigger pressed, the camera will auto-lock into a straight line from link's back to the enemy, so there's no need for you to worry about camera controls. if you DO touch the right stick while targeting, the target camera will jump to the next closest enemy to link and auto-lock again. in general, when fighting, your left pointer should be pressing the trigger to target at all times, your left thumb should be on the stick moving link around, and your right thumb should be pressing Y and shouldn't move from that button. that's the basic combat configuration and there aren't a lot of scenarios where you're going to have to do much more than that (except maybe the right trigger for your bow.)

next is weapon classes. there are 3 different melee weapon classes in botw--swords, greatswords, and polearms. each weapon class has a different attack pattern and speed, and each class has its own strengths and weaknesses.

swords are any weapon link swings one-handed. (examples include the master sword, broadswords, tree branches, boomerangs, small boko clubs, etc.) they have a decently fast attack pattern and when they're equipped link can also use a shield in his left hand with ZL. this is my favorite weapon class, as it's pretty middle-of-the road, usually they have mid-range attack points, as previously mentioned their attack speed isn't too slow, and they come with the added bonus of being able to use a shield. if you're fighting something like a guardian where shielding is necessary, you should always aim to be using a sword-class weapon as it's the only weapon class that link can also hold a shield with.

greatswords are heavy two-handed weapons (examples include claymores and bigger boko clubs.) they usually have very large attack stats, often in the 50s or above, which makes them tempting, especially early game. however, they have several noticeable drawbacks that make them my least favorite weapon class. because of their weight, their attack speed is very low, and because they're two-handed link can't shield when he has one equipped. I personally stay away from this weapon class early-game--imo they're only worth it if you have both hearts and stamina to spare. I only ever use them for hard-hitting charged attacks after stunning an enemy, and will almost always switch back to a sword-class weapon for regular combat.

polearms are long, light two-handed weapons that link holds like a spear (examples include spears, halberds, and tridents.) these have the fastest attack speed in the game, but because they're two-handed link still can't shield with one equipped. these weapons also usually have a longer reach than swords and greatswords, so they can be useful if you don't want to get too close to what you're fighting (however you forfeit the more reliable protection of a shield in order to get that benefit.) these are useful in a pinch, and personally i won't actively discard them like i tend to do with greatswords, but they definitely don't have the same versatility and ease of use as a sword-class weapon.

for early-game, i'd try to stick to sword-class weapons as much as possible, and ALWAYS have your shield up with the left trigger/ZL when you're in combat. this alone will make you harder to hit and let you last a lot longer. with the limited weapon slots you have early-game, i'd focus on collecting weapons that are easy for you to use rather than the ones with the highest attack stats, especially since they're going to break anyway. be willing to sacrifice a high-attack greatsword for a lower-attack one-handed sword in a pinch.

as for the actual mechanics of combat, there are plenty of fancy things you CAN do, but very few of them are actually necessary to beat the game. you can get through 90% of all combat in botw by just targeting with ZL and mashing Y, maybe occasionally sprinting with B to avoid enemy attacks. there are shrines and npcs that will teach you fancy things like backflips and perfect-dodges, which are useful if you can reliably perform them, but if you're someone who gets easily confused when you have to perform a lot of button presses in quick succession, it'll probably be more useful for you to just stick to Y attacks.

the one special combo attack you ARE going to need to learn in order to get through the game is a perfect shield parry, which is going to sound scary and difficult when i explain it but i promise it becomes like second nature after a while. this combo is the easiest way to combat anything that has a laser-beam attack, like guardians and certain late-game bosses. you hold your shield up with ZL, (this combo can ONLY be performed if you're holding a one-handed weapon, and make sure you're targeting the enemy attacking you and not just holding your shield up at nothing) wait for the laser to lock onto you, (the target line will blink rapidly and then disappear just before the laser fires) and then, right when the laser hits your shield, hit the A button to redirect the beam back towards the enemy. there is some level of danger here, because if you press A too early the beam may hit you, but most of the time if you fail to perform a perfect parry the beam will still just bounce off your shield and not do any damage to you. there are plenty of stationary guardians on the map you can use to practice this skill until the timing is ingrained into you, and i would highly recommend practicing it as it's super useful late-game.

as a final note, remember that botw is a game designed for versatility. it seems like you're doing everything very by-the-book--fighting whenever the game tells you to fight, regardless of whether you really WANT to fight. and there's nothing wrong with that, but it's also by no means the only way to get through the game. if you find yourself struggling with melee combat, there's nothing stopping you from buying a bunch of bomb arrows and just firing them off at enemies from afar, or even just eating a shit ton of stealth food and sneaking around them. certain combat scenarios are going to be unavoidable, but botw is a game that prioritizes player innovation, meaning that very rarely is there going to only be one way out of a situation. if you're struggling with melee combat, try something else! try your bow, or a rune, or avoiding combat altogether, until you find something that sticks and makes the game fun for you. there's no wrong way to play!

#also worth noting--if you get scared by the quick weapon-switch mechanics mid battle you can literally just pause and open your inventory #to manually switch if your weapon breaks. you don't NEED to use the D-pad for anything except runes if you don't want to #asks

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writeforfandoms · 9 months

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Fall Into Me 8

Find the series masterlist

Gaz and Soap spend an evening trying not to worry. Gaz finds something unexpected on the coffee shop Monday morning.

Warnings: Swearing, antisemitism (instance of swastika being spraypainted on the building), not quite panic attack, Soap and Gaz gossip.

Word count: 2.1k

Eventual Rose x 141/Los Vaqueros. Eventual.

Gaz liked Soap, he really did. He just… liked Soap less when Soap followed him home.

Not that he was truly surprised anymore. Soap only spent half of his nights in his own apartment, claiming it was too quiet and infringing on everyone else’s spaces instead.

(Apparently the last time Soap had shown up uninvited at Ale and Rudy’s apartment, though, Ale had sworn at him in Spanish for a solid minute before throwing a pillow in his face. Rudy still refused to translate everything, and Soap went an interesting shade of red whenever the subject came up.)

Gaz had acquiesced with mostly good grace, especially since Soap paid for dinner from a little deli Gaz had never been to.

Which is how the two ended up on Gaz’s couch, eating some of the best matzo ball soup Gaz had ever had and playing video games.

“You have to go left,” Gaz pointed out, very helpfully if anybody asked him.

“I know what I’m doing,” Soap muttered, hunching his shoulders. “Guess that explains how she knew about the deli.”

“What?” Gaz blinked at the non-sequitur, and then smirked when Soap had to backtrack. “Told you to go left.”

“Fuck off,” Soap grumbled without heat. “Rose. Jewish. Explains how she knew about the deli.”

Gaz snorted. “I don’t think she knows every Jewish spot in the city just because she is, man.”

Soap shrugged. “Dunno, she got a bit squirrely when we asked.”

Gaz huffed, leaning back and balancing his soup in his lap. “Not everybody likes Jews,” he pointed out, reasonably enough.

“I know that!” Soap growled softly when he had to backtrack again.

“And she doesn’t know us well, yet.” Gaz ignored that little outburst. “Of course she’s being cautious. Can’t blame her.”

Soap didn’t respond for several moments. “D’ye think she’s been hurt before? Because of who she is.”

Gaz considered the question carefully and eventually shrugged. “Dunno. It’s hard to say. She hides a lot behind those smiles.”

Soap grunted softly as he finally got his character back onto the farm and into bed. “Your turn.”

Gaz took the remote and knocked his fist into Soap’s shoulder. “There’s still a lot we don’t know. Takes time to get to know someone. Just keep being you, she has fun with you.”

“Course she does.” Soap grinned, leaning back to watch Gaz work on the farm. “How’d you get her number, anyway?”

“I asked.” Gaz preened a little. “She likes me.”

“Shove off.” Soap stuck his tongue out.

“I could make you go home.”

“Good luck, this couch is mine.”

Gaz was just debating pausing the game to tackle Soap off the couch when his phone pinged. He paused the game anyway but only to dig his phone out.

“From Rose,” he muttered, for Soap’s benefit. “Says she’s… on her way home already?”

“It’s just past 9,” Soap muttered, frowning. “She alright?”

Gaz was quick to text back, thanking her for letting him know and asking if she was alright. He ate more soup while he waited for a response. It was really good soup.

I’m fine. Dinner ended early is all, no big deal. See you Monday!

Gaz turned his phone around so Soap could read it before Soap could do anything like try to wrestle the phone away from him.

“Dinner ended early,” Soap repeated blandly. “Sounds a bit fishy, aye?”

“Not our concern,” Gaz reminded him. “She’s basically telling us to back off.”

Soap made a face but didn’t argue. “Hurry up and finish the day,” he grumbled. “I wanna see if I can catch that fish.”

Gaz rolled his eyes but resumed the game. But he (and Soap) kept an eye on his phone, just in case of further texts.

But he didn’t hear anything more from her all weekend.

He got up early Monday morning, intending to help her out with the shop for the morning rush. Fortunately he didn’t live far from the office building (closer than everybody except Soap, actually) so it wasn’t a long walk.

He stopped dead on the sidewalk outside the coffee shop. Someone had spraypainted a swastika on the outside of the shop, the black and white stark and ugly.

“Rose!” He ran the last few steps to the door, tugging on it. Locked. But the lights were on. “Rose!” He knocked and then moved, searching for movement in the shop.

Rose emerged from the back, pale and trembling, and unlocked the door for him. Gaz was quick to grab her shoulders, giving her a once-over. But she looked okay, just scared and shaky.

“Are you alright?” he asked, locking the door behind them and guiding her back again.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” She looked at the front window and shuddered, eyes closing in misery. “I already called building management, I’m waiting to hear back.”

Gaz clenched his jaw for a moment. “I’m calling the Captain.”

“What? No! Why?” She shook her head rapidly, hair whipping around her head.

“He might have access to the outside cameras, so he can find who did this.” Gaz shrugged as he pulled out his phone.

“Don’t bother him so early.” Rose looked if anything more panicky, which was… the opposite of what he wanted.

Slowly, he put his phone back away and pulled her into a hug. Her next inhale was shaky, and he hugged her harder even as he felt moisture on his shoulder. Her hands gripped the back of his shirt tightly, but she was remarkably quiet. If anything, that made his heart hurt more for her - that kind of quiet was learned.

“I’m sorry,” she finally gasped, pulling away and wiping at her eyes. “I just–it was a long weekend and I didn’t get much sleep and I wasn’t expecting to see that and–”

“Easy,” Gaz murmured, tugging her over to a chair. “It’s alright, you’re alright. We’ll get that taken care of, yeah? You don’t have to worry about it.”

Rose shook her head again, but she didn’t actually object, so Gaz called Price. But he stayed right next to Rose, one hand rubbing her shoulder.

“Gaz,” Price answered, calm and even as always. “What’s going on?”

“Someone spraypainted the outside of the coffee shop,” he reported immediately, squeezing Rose’s shoulder when her breathing hitched. “I’ve got Rose.”

“Copy that, I can be there in ten.”

“Rog. See you soon.” Gaz hung up. He had no idea how Price was going to manage getting here in ten minutes, but if there was one thing he knew about his Captain, it was that when he gave his word, he kept it. Price would be there in ten minutes, or less. “What can I get you, love?”

Rose shrugged a little helplessly. “I don’t know. I haven’t…” Her gaze strayed to the window again and she swallowed hard.

“Hey.” Gaz moved between her and the window, cupping her cheek to keep her from leaning around him. “You’re alright.”

Rose shook her head again but didn’t elaborate further, just ducked her head. “I should be getting ready to open.”

“I think people will understand if you don’t, today.” Gaz was going to hold his ground on this. Especially since he knew he’d have backup shortly.

“No, I was already closed all weekend, I can’t…” Rose trailed off, visibly struggling.

“This counts as extenuating circumstances, love.” Gaz swiped his thumb over her cheek, hating the wetness there, that this had upset her enough to cry over. “We’ll get it figured out, yeah?”

Her next exhale was shaky, and for a moment Gaz was afraid she’d start crying again. But she just sniffled and nodded.

“I have tissues in the back,” she muttered, getting to her feet again, more slowly than normal. She shuffled away from him. Gaz almost called her back or grabbed her or offered to do it for her, but he restrained himself. She needed a bit of time and space. At least she wouldn’t be able to see the spraypaint from the back.

Gaz put his hands on his hips and briefly dropped his head. Poor thing - she needed a few more good hugs and some time to calm down.

And they needed to figure out if this was a genuine threat or just some arsehole.

Two pairs of boots approaching got Gaz to move, and he unlocked the door before Price could knock. Ale was with him, likely a coincidence, holding a small bundle of flowers. Both men looked furious, as Gaz expected.

“Sitrep,” Price growled, taking a quick look around the store.

“Found that this morning,” Gaz said, locking the door again. “Rose is in the back, already contacted building management. Unknown motive.”

Ale set the flowers down gently, lips set in a grim line. “Cameras?”

Gaz shrugged. “Don’t have access yet.”

Price nodded once, gaze flitting about the store. “Is she staying closed today?”

“No.” Rose stopped behind the counter. Her face was still a little blotchy, her eyes still a little red, but she looked steadier. She was certainly less pale. “I can’t.”

“You don’t know if that is a threat.” Price crossed his arms over his chest.

“I doubt it. Most likely just someone thought they’d make an antisemitic statement.” She shrugged. “It’s awful, but it could be worse.”

“It could be worse is not reassuring, cariño,” Ale murmured, stepping closer to her to cup her shoulders. “We worry because we care for you and do not want to see you hurt.”

For a moment, her lip trembled. Then she breathed in slowly, smiling just a little. “I appreciate that. But I really can’t stay closed today.” Her gaze darted to the window darkened with spraypaint and the smile twisted into a grimace. “For one thing, I don’t want to be intimidated into closing. And for another… still have bills to pay.”

Ale clucked and pulled her into a hug, tucking her easily under his chin. Watching the two of them, it struck Gaz how much smaller she was - she fit easily into Ale’s hold. Even Gaz had no problem tucking her into his shoulder when he wanted to. Smaller, soft, gentle. All the things that he’d been trying to protect in the world.

Gaz clenched his jaw and looked away, only to find Price already watching him. The captain raised a single eyebrow: Alright? Gaz nodded once, determined.

“Gaz will stay here today,” Price decided, watching as Rose pulled back a bit. “I’ll handle building management.”

“But–” Rose started to protest.

“Your safety is more important,” Price interrupted, no-nonsense. “One of us will be here, we can work down here just as well as in the office. It’s not a problem. It’s not an imposition. Clear?”

Rose made a complicated expression, an almost-smile paired with a little wiggle of her nose (and seriously, Gaz hadn’t thought she could get cuter) and some eyebrow acrobatics. Then she sighed and nodded. “Fine. Just. Don’t make anybody go out of their way because of this.”

Price huffed a laugh. “Darling, I’ll be lucky if they don’t all relocate down here,” he drawled.

He had a point, Gaz had to admit. Rose blushed, though if it was the nickname or the rest of the sentence he couldn’t tell. Not for sure. But she was rallying quickly.

“Fine,” she agreed. “But you will let me know the second you hear anything from management.” She narrowed her eyes a little at him, which was fair.

“Yes, ma’am.” Price’s lips twitched with a barely repressed smile.

“Oh don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” she sassed. “Or I’ll start calling you Captain.”

Gaz just caught Price’s reaction, watching heat flare and be suppressed in a fraction of a second. Oh. Now that was new.

Ale, fortunately, distracted her with another hug, murmuring something to her too low for Gaz to hear. Gaz took the opportunity to step closer to his Captain.

“Standard check ins?”

“Yes.” Price didn’t look away from the two for another long moment before those blue eyes focused on Gaz. “I’ll keep you updated on my end.”

“Rog.” Gaz nodded once and slipped back behind the counter to grab the spare apron again. He paused outside the tiny office - he’d peeked inside before, of course, enough to see that there was barely enough room for Rose to get any kind of work done. Today there was a bright-colored bag sitting on the desk chair, and he could just see yarn poking out the top.

He walked away, because if he thought about this too much, thought about Rose coming into work happy and looking forward to sharing her knitting, he’d go hunt the bastard down himself.

“Where do we start?” he asked brightly, smiling at Rose.

#fall into me #f!oc #poly au #poly vibes

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cafecitowriter · 5 months

Text

Bring Me You (Steggy Fic)

Summary: Steve decides to return to the past to live a life with Peggy, but nothing about his arrival goes according to plan.

It’s arguably the weirdest day of Peggy’s life.

A/N: Merry Steggymas, @roboticonography! I'm your Secret Santa!

You said you enjoyed canon and canon-divergent fics, snappy banter, swoon-worthy romantic gestures, comic misunderstandings, and of course, a good ole happy ending. So I hope you enjoy some post-Endgame hijinks where Steve tries to go back to Peggy, but ends up running into basically everyone else first.

Due to a combination of personal stuff and the fact that I've been travelling with spotty internet connections, unfortunately your gift is not done as I had hoped, and while I was so happy to hear the deadline has been extended, my current schedule means that it still won't be finished by then. BUT in the meantime, I do have this preview to share with you below, as well as this funky lil graphic. The full (multi-chaptered) fic will be finished and uploaded hopefully later in the early-ish new year.

Title taken from the song I Told Santa Claus to Bring Me You by Bernie Cummins and His Orchestra (which is about as holiday-y as this fic gets).

As always, thanks to @steggyfanevents for hosting!!

Fic Preview:

He’s hardly been sat in the squeaky booth for thirty seconds before one of the serves - a woman with bouncy curls and bright blue eyes - swoops in on him, half full coffee pot in hand.

“A coffee for your troubles?” she offers, not bothering to wait for an answer before pouring it into the mug that she must have brought over with her, because it certainly hadn’t been there when he arrived.

“You think I look troubled?”

“I think you look like trouble,” she teases with a breezy wink, clearly proud of herself for landing her own set up. “But that’s just my intuition. It’s what happens when you’ve been around here long enough.”

Despite her strong come on, she has a genuine warmness to her demeanour that makes Steve smile.

“You’ve been working here long?”

“Not anymore, actually - and good riddance let me tell you. I was never cut out for this line of work. But it’s my day off from rehearsals and Ruth called in a panic because two people called in sick and Marlene’s still out with her ‘sprained ankle’, and believe me, if it had been anyone else I would’ve said no but Ruth stuck her neck out for me during the peach cobbler incident of ’47 and now I basically owe her my first born.”

The woman stalls to give an obvious side eye to the counter where there’s another woman wearing an identical uniform - a redhead who’s been wiping the same spot on the counter since Steve arrived - before turning back to him with a lower voice. “Although if she had told me Babs was going to be here I would’ve pretended to be on the other side of the country. Which come to think of it was probably why she didn’t tell me- oh shoot, your sugar shaker’s empty, let me get-”

“I’m alright, thanks,” he interrupts quickly, both because he hasn’t taken a drop of sugar in his coffee since the one time Tony made him try one of those fancy lattes shortly after the Chitauri attack, and because if she left now, he wasn’t sure when she would be back to take his order.

“You’re plenty sweet yourself, is that it?”

Steve shrugged, but gave her a smile all the same.

“Honestly, I’m just hungry.”

#steggy #steggysecretsanta #andi writes

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j--ackdaw · 4 months

Text

dog-eat-dog: part 1

can’t breathe.

tlou fanfic ao3 summary: You swore you would avenge her. Karma. What goes around, comes around. Before the story starts, you already cut through the hunters that had actually killed your sister and almost killed you. But now, you were on the hunt for a pair of brothers who needed to pay. word count: 1.7k warnings/tags: fem!reader, reader is nearly an OFC, but I’ll try to keep it as vague as possible (reader is in her late 20s/early 30s), dog imagery/inferences (shocking I know), based in a slightly altered game timeline, (TW) lots of blood imagery, violence, death, good ol’ revenge, allusions to abuse/torture, manipulation, trauma, physical scars, panic attacks, NO USE OF Y/N

a/n: Might write more for this?? Dunno yet. This isn’t necessarily going to be a Joel x fem!reader fanfic since well, your endgame is killing him (or close to it). Let me know if any of you would actually like me to continue this. This is kind-of a proof of concept, I guess. I thought the og plan for Abby was super gut-wrenching. So basically this is playing off that concept except earlier in the story, maybe a couple months after Ellie and Joel arrive in Jackson.

Apologies if this isn’t super well written. I’m not really a writer, but I’m trying to get better at it lol.

———

Outside Boston, Massachusetts | 2019

The woman in front of you begged for a scrap of mercy. Spit flew out of her mouth as her screams scrawled into your eardrums. A bandana hung from her neck, soggy and wet seemingly from once being used as a gag.

“Please, I’ll do anything! I won’t tell anyone, we won’t tell anyone! Just let us go! Please, I will–”

A devastating crack rang in the still, stuffy air for a few moments.

You choked on your breath, caught off guard by the sudden noise. Her cries ceased, only to leave a dead silence hanging on every breath of air you took. It was suffocating. Heavy and thick, almost as if you forced yourself to swallow each gasp of air to keep it from escaping out of your throat.

Her hair was matted. Brown, once shimmering, coils of hair knotted and tangled into an undistinguishable disarray concealing her face.

A moment prior, she had mirrored yourself. Kneeled and hunched on the spotted tile floor. Bound by a makeshift rope, her hands were covered in splatters of blood and sweat. Her attention frantically searched the bleak room before locking onto your eyes. Even in the darkened lighting, her eyes were distinct. Filled to the brim with complete, unadulterated terror.

The glint in a person's eye just before their internal clock is shattered flickered into view as she stared.

Her motionless body now laid on its side on the floor. A constant shake that enveloped her entire body was absent.

Eyes devoid of any notion of life.

Just as you peered down, a mixture of blood and brain matter inched its way beneath where you knelt and soaked the knees of your jeans. Every thread held onto what was once the woman’s lifeline, her experiences, her emotions, her triumphs, her resounding failures. All to be left to the heap on the floor and the pooling blood soaking the knees of your jeans.

It was uncomfortable. Everything in the room felt hollow. You couldn’t help but focus on the unbearable, warm wetness of your pants. Your skin crawled. You needed the sensation to stop.

It didn’t matter anymore what was being said. It didn’t matter that you could barely see through the blockade of tears obscuring your vision. It didn’t matter that all parts of you were being tugged at. It didn't matter how it was demanded for you to look into the eyes of your captures. Everything glazed over. All of the things you looked at carried a translucent, dark wash overtop. Your intense focus barred you from making out the fuzzy details in the gloomily lit room. Knives that had once made you sear with pain felt like a nail being dragged against your skin. None of it mattered.

You could only pay attention to your jeans.

The woman, your sister, was gone, and you were up for slaughter.

———

Wyoming | May 2034

Surviving by the skin of your teeth had taken a toll on you.

Day in – day out, each passing minute felt like white, hot, sweltering pain. An ever-present rumble persisted in your mind. Across your back, each movement, tight and stiff, felt like a fucked-up mnemonic omen to your past. Reminders were strung across the pavement, painted along cracked walls, hidden in the bleak corners of your sight. Closing your eyes never helped. The black void moved. It writhed into crude shapes resembling her. Shadows resembled the lifeless bodies that seemed to cling to you, no matter where you went.

Living left you battered and bruised. At the turn of your adolescence, being used as bait was what kept you fed. Supplied a cot to sleep on. Hunters dangled rations above your head on the condition you performed your 'trick' accordingly. You’d set off, hooked onto a leash of watchful eyes, feigning injury to lure unsuspecting do-gooders into a trap. A trap that left their corpses sizzling in a horrific bonfire and their belongings stacked on tables for auction. Cry for help as a ploy for the attack, get rewarded. If you escaped, you'd be stripped of essentials. You were a kid. Surviving on your own never posed as a viable option. It was hard to admit to yourself, but you’d be dead the moment you were let out of your cage. Other members drilled that fact into you. You knew even without their teeth snapping in your ears. The “Huntsman” provided an alternative far from feeling comfortable, but you could grin your teeth and bear it. Scars that sizzled along your back would be returned in due time. You laid in wait.

Into your adulthood and new-found 'freedom', surviving on your own was far more manageable. You were capable. Knowing how to defend yourself and manipulate those around you made being alone an easier plate to consume.

Long gone were the days of innocence and naivety. The cracks of bone and the tear of flesh had become your normal. You reeked of it.

The stench lingered off of you. A bloodthirsty curtain hung heavy over your eyes, dowsing all of the light they once harbored. Your experiences shaped you entirely, and not in a good way.

You were angry. Enraged. Frenzied.

A thick, heavy sheen of viscera seeped into every single waking moment and each minuscule second of your unconscious mind. You couldn’t escape it, even if you tried.

You took it in stride; no other choice was thrown to you.

Every ounce of fury ached in your bones. You used it in all facets of your existence.

You were living in a premonition. A desire. A need.

And you —

You would stop at nothing until that obligation became your reality.

Infected were commonplace. Nothing but a measly obstacle in your cyclic routines.

At first, you had been so hesitant to kill them. What if they could feel? What if they were still human? Sometimes, you thought you heard runners retching, fighting out the word 'stop', while devouring their kills. Avoiding them at all costs was a priority. You couldn’t bear the weight of the guilt if those thoughts were the truth.

Now, you had no choice.

Killing was made practical. Methodical. You had a way of going about it.

Thinking about the act too strenuously made you feel sick. Torture and the drawn-out ‘satisfaction’ of draining something of life wasn’t a pastime you enjoyed. Blood building around the eyes, it dripping from the mouth, made it too real. Death was delivered as swiftly as you could within the circumstances you were in. You’d only go the mile if it was something you deemed necessary. Or deserved, rather.

It boiled down to a quick draw of your revolver or a sweeping heave of a machete, and foes were left as nothing but flesh that oozed. They were puppets pulled on fungal strings for an organism that barely kept them alive. An infection pawning creatures as a means for motion and viability. Or, they were empty husks of people, lost too deep in the compensation for being ruthless and lusting for blood.

If anything, you were putting them out of their misery, right?

You convinced yourself to believe that.

Walking along barren, cracked roads had become a dull environment quickly. Dilapidated storefronts, battered farmhouses, and run-down neighborhoods muddled into a blur of lush greenery and rotted wood. It was calming, in a twisted way. Civilization plummeting into a remnant of what it once was felt fitting, warranted, from what little you remembered. Bricks that had been chipped away by the elements littered the ground. Structures were left as ruined time-capsules of an easier way of life. A life you didn't know long enough to stow away attachments to. A bygone era. Much of their worn, cement bones were picked clean, unlucky for you.

A few stragglers inside an abandoned home you were rummaging through became a welcome change of pace. Heart racing in your ears, the adrenaline gave you a high. You’d press yourself against a wall, letting your hearing acclimate to the subtlety of a pin drop. You’d ambush. Quick on your feet, you’d rush behind a clicker, driving your pocket knife deep into its throat. It would choke out. Gurgling and hissing for a few moments, it would give a sad attempt at clawing its way out of your grip. Promptly, it would fall limp, and you’d allow it to crumple to the floor.

Rinse and repeat.

In a jam, you’d slide over tables and counters to create distance, trusty revolver in hand. A shotgun holstered on the side of your backpack was useful if you were cornered. You’d had countless close calls, but you’d always managed to slip past. Injuries such as a broken arm or snapped ankle wouldn’t stop you regardless.

Beams providing support to a nearly collapsed roof sometimes fell from their deteriorating posts; the crash stealing your breath away. You felt rickety floorboards beneath you, then suddenly they were gone. It's dark.

She’s screaming.

She’s crying out your name. She can’t stop saying it. You can’t breathe. You’re taking in breaths; why can’t you breathe? What happened? She won’t stop shouting your name. You can’t feel your hands anymore. What’s happening? Your arms are numb. You keep blinking, but you can’t stop seeing her. You weren't here a second ago, right? Why won’t you answer her? She’s gagging on her tears. On the floor now. She’s relentlessly calling for you. Say something. Ears are buzzing. She’s coughing up blood. Can’t breathe. She’s crumbled on the floor. Legs are cold.

She isn’t yelling for you anymore.

You’re screaming.

You couldn't take it anymore. You were so close.

Nothing could stop you now. There is only so much an ability to fight could do you good for. You’d have to be smart and play your cards right.

Because you knew damn well that waltzing in with a loaded gun and a seemingly empty threat would get you nowhere.

It didn’t matter how long it’d take. You were more than ready to play the long game.

Fuck, you'd been playing the long game. This resolution had been brewing in your mind for nearly fifteen years.

This was personal. You would make it personal.

After all was said and done, you couldn’t give a shit. But until then, you needed to act the part and end this perpetual nightmare.

And kill Tommy and Joel Miller.

Or, die trying.

#dog-eat-dog #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller reader fanfic #joel miller #tommy miller

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stressedbisexualtm · 7 months

Text

WAIT HOLD ON I HAD A BIG BRAIN MOMENT

For anyone that didn't catch Wilbur's stream today: when he checked the mailbox in front of tallulah towers looking for clues on where Llulah is, he noticed he had a letter from the federation. It basically said that Lovejoy is funding the federation, and they're proud of Wilbur. It also had a picture attached of a painted drawing of the Brazilian cargo ship on fire, in the same style Lovejoy's album covers have all been lately. I noticed this during the stream, but didn't have much time to think about it. However, a user on twitter pointed out that there's gotta be some deeper meaning there, which lead me to look back on Lovejoy's recent releases.

First up: Call Me What You Like - A single released by Lovejoy very early in the year (february or march I think, but idk for sure) whose album cover depicts a plane crashing toward the ground, on fire. I, like any good sleuth, immediately connected it to the French plane. The French crashed into the island via plane, and I do belive it was on fire before they hit the ground. The thing that made me jump the most was that this was, as far as I remember, released before the qsmp had even STARTED, much less when the French joined the server. Another small detail I noticed that might not be important is that Quackity appears in the music video as well as cc's not affiliated with the qsmp and people I could not identify any of the times I watched it (probably just background actors, but my brain's working overtime anyway).

Next up: Wake Up & It's Over - Lovejoy's latest EP, which includes the single Call Me What You Like. It's album cover depicts a train on fire, heading sideways off of its tracks. This reminded me of the first trains on the island - the ones that brought the initial English and Spanish speakers to the island. There was never a problem with them crashing or being set on fire as far as I remember, but it could be poetic. Another thought I had was about the create mod. For the past month or so, about since the eggs left I think, people have been experimenting with the create mod more - mostly using trains, actually. This could be a future event occurring with all the trains people have been building, something going wrong or some crazy angsty lore, idk. Again, it could be more of a symbol or an omen, but with cmwyl and the picture the federation gave q!bur I don't think it is. Another very obvious possibility is that it represents new members joining, like the other two do.

Third, and final: Normal People Things - Lovejoy's latest single, released just a week or two ago. The cover image for this song depicts a car crashing into the side of a house, the car very clearly on fire. I don't know if it's worth mentioning, but the other three covers all seem to take place during the day, but Normal People Things looks like it's happening during a sunrise/sunset (likely the latter). This cover is one I'm not really sure what to do with. It obviously follows the pattern of the others, so it's gotta fit in somewhere, I just don't know where. Nothing like that has ever happened to the players so we can be sure it's a future event. I'm not sure if it represents new players joining or just something the residents will have to deal with. (This last bit that I'm about to talk about is a huge stretch, but I've seen crazier connections.) As I was looking at all of the album covers, I thought a little bit more about the lyrics in npt. It reminds me of the happy pills arc, where Forever was taking pills and going a little insane. Here are a few of the lyrics:

Panic attack,/Backing track

Background hum/Of the cerebellum

What a blessing/To meet someone like you

With eyes as dead as mine, it's fine/It's normal people things to lie here in silence

(skip)

Spending days in/Self-medicating

Lost too much weight/Unpleasant aftertaste

We look the same/Play different games

This is probably the biggest leap I have ever made when theorizing, and it's most likely wrong, so don't judge me too harshly for it lol. I've probably got something with the covers, though, so I'm gonna be keeping my eyes out for that, and JESUS this is so COOL

#qsmp #qsmp federation #qsmp wilbur #qsmp lovejoy #(that's a tag now)#generic talking tag #wilbur soot #q!wilbur

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lavendermage · 2 years

Text

Lost in Inazuma

Characters: Itto(Romantic), Shinobu (IDK), Arataki Gang, Thoma(IDK)

Genre: Sagau, gender neutral reader

TW:fear, panic attack?

1.9k words

AN: Not too happy with this to be honest, excited for the next part though!

Part 1

You fit in easily with the Arataki gang. You shared their values but were much gentler. While Shinobu had to struggle to control the members, your presence would naturally calm down the gang. Even Genta’s violent temper relaxed when he was with you. Shinobu was grateful for the help. Her job was much easier now and she was not going to complain about it.

As soon as Shinobu deemed you healthy enough, you started foraging around the headquarters. You could find all sorts of fruits and vegetables that the others couldn’t. Itto swore they grew around you but you just laughed. You convinced Shinobu to teach you how to fish and mastered the skill quickly. The fish practically jumped into your net. Whenever the gang was out and about in the city, you would find dinner and the next day’s breakfast and lunch.

The gang sat around the campfire as you busied yourself grilling today’s catch. Itto had tried his best to help but the fish he tried to cook ended up burnt and inedible so he settled for providing moral support.

“The fish looks great, Goldie!” He had taken to calling you that. You never bothered to ask why.

“You can get it once it’s done cooking.”

“I don’t know what magic you put into that thing, but it’s the best fish I’ve ever eaten!”

“No need to go that far.” You give him the fish. “It’s basically just salt and sake.”

“Mmhmm. Soooo good.”

You laugh at his exaggerated enthusiasm and start cooking another fish.

“Oh, want to see the Creator’s shrine? Shinobu’s visiting tomorrow”

You thought for a minute. You did want to learn more but….“I wouldn’t want to intrude on her worship.”

“I don’t mind.” Shinobu shrugged. “It would be nice to go with someone. Does tomorrow morning sound good?”

“Sure!” You cleaned up and got to bed early, preparing for the next day.

“Ready, Goldie.”

“Yep! Wait a minute, mask!” You darted back into the house and returned, tying the mask onto your face. “We match!”

Her eyes crinkled at the thought. “I guess we do.”

You held her hand as you walked along the crowded road. She glanced at you and squeezed your hand slightly. “We’re almost there.”

You saw a large statue, almost like the statue of the omnipresent god, but you were nowhere near where that should be. Shinobu led you around the base and you saw its face. Your face. It had your face. You pushed down your panic as you assessed the situation. The crowd split ever so slightly as you made your way to the base of the statue. Shinobu followed. Hundreds of flowers were laid at the foot of the statue, along with coins and charms and little toys. A man to your right had servants place a large chest of gold, with the top open, of course.

You scoffed. “Wouldn’t money be meaningless to a god?” You mumbled.

“What use would it have for any of the other offerings?” Shinobu asked, curious for your opinion.

“Probably none, but they still mean more if they were chosen carefully. If a was a god, a small shrine like Itto’s would mean much more than a chest of gold.” You shook your head and redirected your attention to a little boy making his own offering.

It was a handful of flowers, the type that wouldn’t last when cut, the type that people thought of as weeds. He held it tightly in his little hand as he prayed, his eyes screwed shut. You noticed his worn out clothes and the dirt on his arms. “Please help Mama get better.” He mumbled.

Your heart twisted in your chest and you heard his stomach growl. He frowned and pulled out a little bag, counting the mora in it. It clearly wasn’t enough for what he wanted. He left, dejected.

Shinobu left an offering, a small bouquet of dendrobium. The two of you left and headed back down the road as it thinned. About half-way back to the headquarters, you saw the boy again. He was surrounded by treasure hoarders. You didn’t have time to think as you rushed in front of the boy. Shinobu hurried behind you.

“I didn’t know you’d stoop this low.” You glared at the armed men.

“What’s it to you?” The leader leaned over you.

You didn’t flinch at the movement, anger fortifying your will. “I’m not the type of person to stand by while children are being hurt. Leave.”

The man dropped his weapon in surprise. You almost rolled your eyes, that was a bit dramatic.

Shinobu took this opportunity to knock the man out. The rest of the men ran, tails between their legs. She lifted the man off the ground and turned to you. “I’m bringing him to the tenryou commission. I assume you’ll walk the kid back home.”

You nodded. “Thanks, Shinobu.”

“No problem.” She started dragging the man down the road.

You crouched down to the kid's height. “So, little guy, do you know if there’s a place we can get you a treat on the way back home? You were so brave today!”

He nodded excitedly. “Yeah! I’ll show you.” He led the way, skipping and pointing out landmarks. “Here it is!” He pointed at a small food stall by the side of the road.

“Pick your order.”

He thought for a moment. “Can I pick two?”

“Of course.”

“Takoyaki and dango, please!”

You nodded and placed the order, adding an extra takoyaki for yourself. In a few minutes the food was done and you continued on. The boy happily ate the takoyaki but didn’t touch the dango.

“Are you saving it for anyone?” You motioned towards the dessert.

“Yes! It’s Mama’s favorite!” His face fell. “She’s always hurting, so I bring it back for her.”

“You’re a good kid.” Chronic pain sucks, poor mom.

You reached a small house and the boy ran ahead, dragging you behind him.

“Mama, Mama, you won't believe what happened! This stranger saved me from bandits!”

“Oh my.” The boy’s mother sat in bed, boney hands clasped in her lap. “Did you thank them yet?”

“Umm, not yet.” He turned to you and bowed. “Thank you Mx. Stranger.”

“You’re welcome.” You looked at her frail state and started to worry. “Is there anything I could do to help?”

She sighed. “If you could brew tea, that would be nice. I hate to ask, but Katsu’s too short to reach.”

“Ok!” You brightened. You could finally do something to help!

Katsu showed you where the tea was and you brewed it quickly. You brought it back to the woman.

“Would you like honey?”

“No, it’s alright.” She sipped it slowly before tears spilled from her eyes.

“Are you alright?” You examined her face for any sign of complications.

She sobbed. “It’s gone– my pain, it’s gone. Thank you, thank you, whatever you did.” She held your hand.

“It’s really no big deal. If you want, I could probably come by and brew it again tomorrow.”

“You’re a blessing from the Creator.”

“Thank you. I might be able to come by tomorrow, to make tea again.”

You left, happiness warming your chest. Next, you’d ask Shinobu about the statue but for now you allowed yourself to relax.

When you arrived at home the atmosphere was tense.

“What’s wrong?” You asked Shinbu, trusting her to know what’s going on.

“It might not be safe for you here.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

She continued. “Itto and the gang get in trouble with the law often. If that happens while you’re here, you could get caught up in it.”

“I have a buddy that could take you in.” Itto said.

You shook your head. “I’ll leave.”

“Absolutely not!” Genta yelled.

You flinched, it had been so long since his last outburst.

Shinobu sighed. “What Genta means is that it’s not safe. I’ve vetted the guy you’ll be staying with, you’ll be safe with him.”

It took a minute for you to review your options. While you trusted Itto’s intentions, you weren’t sure if you trusted him to read others. With Shinobu’s approval though... “I’ll meet them and then decide.”

“Someone will be coming tomorrow, but if it’s too fast for you we could reschedule.” Shinobu, always so responsible.

“No, that will be ok.” Better to get it over with. “And could we talk? Privately.”

You moved away from the fire and to the beach, the waves would help to mask your voices.

“Why did that statue look like me?” You monitored her face. She looked confused, as if this was some test.

“What do you mean? It is you.” Then, when you didn’t reply. “Don’t you remember?”

“I don’t. Why do you think I’m them?”

“Even ignoring the fact you’re identical, your aura. Your emotions reflect onto us. When you’re happy, when you’re scared, and when you’re angry we feel it.”

“How come the boys haven’t noticed?”

She sighed. “I’m not sure. They don’t visit the shrine often, so maybe they don’t remember what you look like. And they're a bit… you know.”

You chuckled. “Yeah. Not the most aware bunch.”

“You knew us all even before we met, didn’t you.”

“Yes, I did. You were always some of my favorites.”

Shinobu blushed a deep red. “Thank you, your grace.”

“No, keep calling me Goldie. I’m not even sure you’re right yet.”

“Allright, Goldie.”

“Let’s head to bed.” You helped her up and walked together with her to your rooms. The night was mellow and the sound of the ocean lulled you to sleep.

In the morning you headed out to quickly brew tea for Katsu’s mother and told her it would be a while before you could meet again. She accepted it easily, just nodding. Then you gathered some mushrooms and fruits for a good-bye gift to thank the Arataki gang. Foraging cleared your mind. You got home at noon and started cooking. Lunch was onigiri decorated like sumo wrestlers and soup.

“I love these little guys!” Itto leaned over your shoulder to watch as you worked. He was always the first to show up at any meal. He straightened and hollered, “There’s food!”

The men and Shinobu gathered quickly, eager to eat. In the few seconds it had taken them to appear Itto was already on his third onigiri. When he reached for another you jokingly slapped his hand away.

“Let the others have some!” You scolded him.

He laughed. “Sorry, Goldie.”

“Excuse me, Arataki Itto?” A voice called from the front of the house. You quickly slipped on your mask as Itto answered.

“Arataki ‘the one and oni’ Itto here! This way!” He waved wildly as a man walked around the house.

Thoma.

Itto slapped your shoulder. “This is the friend I told Ayato about. They cook the best food and can heal any injury!”

“Is that so?” Thoma smiled.

“Itto’s exaggerating a bit, but I am willing to work to earn my stay.” You kept your head down as you spoke.

“What’s your name?”

You didn’t know how to answer and grasped for an excuse to leave. “Oh, I forgot the tea!” You bolted into the house leaving Itto and Thoma behind.

“They seem skittish.”

“Goldie’s not usually like this.”

“Goldie?”

“Yeah, cause they’re like our treasure!” Itto beamed.

“Ah, a nickname. What’s their real name?”

“I - uh - can’t remember off the top of my head...”

He didn’t remember at all did he. Thoma sighed.

______________________________________________________________

Itto, Slaps reader's back. : This bad boy can fit so much kindness in it!

Reader, scared out of their mind: Thanks, Itto

#sagau itto #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #g/n reader #sagau #sagau thoma #sagau shinobu #itto x reader #itto x y/n

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queenimmadolla · 1 year

Text

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀

(eddie munson x secret admirer!reader)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 Summary: After four long years of pining, it's high time you tell your crush you like him and quite possibly your last chance to, luckily there's no better time for love confessions than Valentine's Day. If only you hadn't chosen to do so anonymously, because you're pretty sure he's hoping his secret admirer is someone else.

Warnings: pining, angst, misunderstandings, very brief (blink and you miss it) descriptions of oncoming panic attack (doesn't happen), Heather Holloway being a sweetie, and a whole lot of fluff a/n: I did way too much for something that was supposed to be 2.k word count wise, and is definitely going to flop because of how late I'm posting it but I don't care because it is still technically Valentine's Day. A HUGE thank you to @kitmon for being my incredible beta-half (get it?) and if you like slow burns (and I mean the best ‘GET TOGETHER ALREADY but also please take your time really finding and understanding each other’ fics), go devour their masterlist. Happy reading and Happy Valentine's day ♡ word count: 10k (no 'read more' as tumblr keeps eating chunks and repeating parts of it when i utilize the feature, sorry, just scroll).

You stood posted by a row of lockers, peaking around the corner of the hall to watch as the longtime object of your affections laughed at something one of his friends said.

“Are you stalking him again?”

You jumped, clutching your biology book to your chest as you swiveled around to face Heather, your best friend.

“Geez!” You hissed out, voice low as you checked to make sure you hadn’t attracted his attention.

“I’m not stalking him,” you grumbled and Heather giggled. “I’m just observing him.”

“Well, stop observing him and go talk to him.” She nudged your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile.

Heather coughed out a stalking, followed by another cough, all of which you ignored.

“No more quietly pining, I’m telling him how I feel.”

Heather raised her eyebrows, tongue clicking.

“Let me get this straight, you’re not only going to actually exchange words with him, you’re actually going to tell Eddie Munson about your feelings?”

Your heart fluttered just at the mention of him.

Edward Wayne Munson. Eddie.

You’d had a crush on him since your freshman year of high school, and contrary to your best friend’s earlier statement, you had exchanged words with him already. Sorta. Basically.

Then last year he’d held the cafeteria door open for you and your friends when you slipped in. That time, you’d been the one to thank him and he had said you’re welcome. Almost unprompted!

So, yeah. Maybe you were a little delusional, it didn’t matter though. What mattered was you were running out of time.

You had nothing to lose, so today was gonna be the day.

“Yes,” you took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the determination sank deep into your bones. “I’m gonna tell him.”

“How are you gonna do that?” She cocked her head, the curls of her side ponytail bouncing.

Her face wrinkled up in confusion, “You bought yourself flowers again?”

“No.” You glared at her, a hand scratching your head as you hissed out through gritted teeth, “And we promised not to bring that up anymore—these are for Eddie.”

Heather perked up at that, a hand resting over her chest as she fawned, “Dude, that is so cute! When are you gonna give them to him?”

“That’s the thing, I’m not actually going to give them to him directly. I need your help. You’ve got history with him, yeah?”

You already knew she did so it didn’t surprise you when she nodded. You slipped one rose from the bouquet and handed it to her.

“Can you leave this on his desk?”

“Sure! Wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of your love story,” she marveled, twirling the stem between her fingertips.

God, you hoped it’d be a love story and not a tragedy.

“And these are for you.” You pulled out a smaller bouquet of pink roses, and Heather just about burst into tears.

“Dude,” Heather yanked you in for a hug, squeezing you to the point you thought your ribs might be bruised.

“Uhm. Heather. Ow.”

“Oh, sorry.” She released you, holding you by your shoulders, “Okay, so I just give it to him?”

“No, no, no, no, no. There will be no interactions. Just leave it on his desk.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

You reluctantly made your way to your first period, plagued by thoughts of Eddie’s reaction to the first rose.

Would he like it? Oh, you hoped he liked it.

What if he thought it was some prank? What if he threw it away? Would he do the same to the rest?

Oh, well. There was no backing out now.

During lunch, you found yourself behind the stage of the cafeteria, in part of the drama department. It’s where Hellfire took place.

You made your way over to sit in the chair closest to his throne, casting it a couple of nervous glances.

The thought made your stomach hurt, a large void beginning to form there.

Yeah, simple as that.

You clicked the pen in your grasp, placing it just over the paper.

You wavered, licking your lips as you tried to convince yourself to just own your goddamn name. That’s all you had to do. Write on the paper.

Just write on the paper.

Your hand was beginning to shake, and with a heavy heart, you realized your name wouldn’t be going on this note.

—

Eddie was at a loss, completely stupefied.

He glanced around again in vain, hoping someone would somehow stick out and when no one did, he held it in his grasp, rough fingertips stroking over the soft petals for the duration of the class.

Yeah, fuckers. Someone finally liked him. Eat shit.

He’d been sure it was a drunken mistake but sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and she didn’t look all that disgusted with him.

The last name on the short list was that of Tammy Thompson. She had made her interest in Eddie pretty clear his junior year, always trying to sit behind him in classes so she could play with his hair. Unfortunately, Tammy was very, for the lack of better words, aggressive with her affections. He’d made out with her once and it had been sloppy and messy in the most unattractive of ways. It was like tonguing a dog.. Then he remembered she’d actually been able to graduate, unlike him, so he was spared.

He and his lunchbox full of drugs—and some snacks—made their way to the Hellfire lunch table where he spent a significant amount of time studying the two girls.

“Uh, are you okay, Eddie?”

“Yeah, I’m fine—what are those?” Eddie asked, eyes honed in on the roses resting on Will’s tray.

The younger teen handed them over, “A girl told me to give you these.”

Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, “You know who she is?”

Will nodded and before Eddie could demand a name, he rushed, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy!”

Eddie scowled, carefully setting aside his roses so they wouldn’t be involved in his annoyance.

Will knew what it was like to have that special person interested in someone else, too. So, he’d protect your secret.

“I swore.”

Eddie groaned, head dipping forward in a brief moment of defeat before he slammed his fist on the table, making the other occupants jump.

Will shakes his head, nose wrinkling. Nothing against her, she just wasn’t the nicest to him or his friends. Not the meanest, still.

──

Your heart was racing a mile a minute, having witnessed everything transpire at the Hellfire table.

Eddie hadn’t seemed too happy about that.

Then he stormed out and you fought very hard with yourself to not follow after him because then Heather would be right and you’d be a stalker.

“Regret it yet?” Heather asked after she’d swallowed a bite of her sandwich.

“Sure,” Heather drawled, glancing over her shoulder as you picked at your food, appetite suddenly gone.

Maybe you really should have written your name on that love note.

After the first time you’d spied on them, the two of you had gone back to your home where Heather held a mock funeral for you. Now, you wished it had been a real one because you were sure Eddie had not only loved your roses, he also assumed they were from Chrissy. They would send him right into her arms at that shitty ass bench. And when he’d get a hold of the love note, well, you’d be the reason why Eddie and Chrissy would be hand in hand come Monday, canoodling by their lockers and kissing like no one else was watching. All the things Eddie should have been doing with you.

You should have signed your name on the fucking note.

─

Eddie had paced a pathway, disturbing the mounds of fallen leaves surrounding the picnic table.

His stuff, another rose he’d found waiting for him included, were on the table and he’d taken off his jacket, despite the chill of the February air. He was working himself up in his head, overheating in the process.

“Eddie?”

His head shot around, grinning as Chrissy—who apparently left him roses—approached him, face broken out in a smile.

“Hey, Chris.” Eddie’s heart was racing a mile a minute, palms sweaty as he rested them over his hips, then quickly realized he looked stupid so he crossed them instead.

“On the house.”

“Eddie, it’s always on the house. I feel bad.”

“Then stop.” He emphasized the demand with bulging eyes, smirking when she giggled. She had to like him, right?

Chrissy was too busy moving things aside in her backpack to make room for the baggy. When she finally did look back up, she smiled, but gave no hint she was even familiar with them.

“Ooh, pretty flowers. Where’d you get those?”

Was she playing coy?

“Uh, someone’s been leaving them for me all around school.” Was it you?

Chrissy’s face lit up and Eddie thought it was finally the moment of truth.

“That’s so sweet! Do you know who it is? Or is it like a secret admirer sort of deal?”

“I actually have no idea who it is,” he sighed out, hoping if it was her, she’d just put him out of his damn misery already.

Chrissy, glanced down at the table and Eddie perked up. Nerves? Was she finally gonna come out with it?