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#hello everyone i'm still alive
aseuki · 4 months
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Posting it on main too, but here's my contribution to the @hoshinokaabi-secretsanta with a gift for @mastercrowned!! All of the given prompts were So Delightful, but in the end I had to go with drawing Morpho ordering a Kirby Burgie (or maybe 10) asdlkgjn
version without the text bubble under the cut!
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This whole event was a Delight to participate in! Had I more time and energy I would have Defo scribbled out more, but for Now pls enjoy my Favorite part of the image that Unfortunately got masked by the completed piece which is.
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Scrungle Dee
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marshmelonlover · 3 months
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The need for J/C to become a thing in Prodigy season 2 is indescribable.
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tragidean · 1 year
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we really shouldn’t be doing this [17.1k] (ao3)
It doesn’t work.
Two hand jobs over a three-hour period and a newfound case of carpal tunnel later, and Castiel glares at Dean from across the kitchen table, like all of this is his fault. If anything, he deserves a medal for getting Castiel off as many times as he could on little to no sleep. Coffee doesn’t help; part of him wonders if a shot of adrenaline would, but the resulting crash would only send him right back where he started, leaving him with the only alternative—
Awkward breakfast conversations.
“I can’t believe you called her,” Dean mutters into his French toast. Castiel continues to stare at him, the furrowed lines in his brow threatening to become permanent. “Some things are private, Cas.”
“And it’s not working.” Castiel rubs his temples. The sleeves of his robe—a similar one, the fabric light blue instead of Dean’s gray—slides down his arms, revealing his wrists and the fingers Dean wants to feel on his tongue. “No matter how often we try, I’m still…” He lowers his voice. “I’m still aroused.”
Dean sighs and sets his fork down. “No, man, I… I get it. I mean, I don’t get it, but I…” Just stop talking. “I need coffee. You want coffee?”
“You have coffee.” Castiel grabs his wrist before he can make it to his feet. “Is this a chore to you?”
“What?” Dean fights to pull his hand away, but Castiel holds him still, his scowl growing even deeper. “Why would you think…”
“Dean,” Castiel says, and—of course he would think that. At the first sign of confrontation, Dean always attempts to deflect and avoid the conversation. This is no different—except now, it directly involves him, and he can’t escape. “You know I enjoy our talks.”
“Jesus Christ.” Kill me, kill me now. He hides behind his hands in the hopes that when he opens his eyes, that Castiel will be gone. No such luck. “Look, it’s… Do you think this is a mistake?”
Smooth, Winchester.
Castiel leans back in his chair, his hands sliding until they fall off the table and into his lap. Botox couldn't cure the creases in his forehead, now. “Are you doubting yourself?”
“No, I’m…” A breath. He runs his fingers through his hair. “We just got you back, man. I just got you back, and it’s… It’s been a hell of a few months, and now, we’ve just had sex three times in the last, what, four hours?” He laughs and shakes his head. “I don’t fuck on the first date, Cas. In fact, I haven’t fucked anyone at all in a while.”
Castiel’s glare eases as something dawns, something Dean doesn’t want to even think about. Life has a habit of slamming into him like a Mack truck, though. “You want this to mean something.”
“Yeah.” Dean bows his head. “Sex is… It’s always been an escape to me, a way to just… forget about the bullshit. For an hour or two, the hunts, Sam, my dad’s fucking voice in my head… none of it matters. But it’s never meant anything, y’know?” He scrubs his jaw. “I just got you back, and I… I don’t wanna lose you again, not because of some stupid curse.”
“Dean.” This time when Castiel says his name, it’s soft, imploring. He takes Dean’s hand, his palm still damp but his fingers so gentle, so kind. He presses Dean’s knuckles to his lips, and Dean’s heart threatens to burst. “Can I confide in you?”
Dean nods.
continue reading on ao3
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viaetor · 6 months
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[floods your dash with replies] hello, guess who's back :3c
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thebrixtons · 1 year
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Previous - Beginning - Next
(Transcript under the cut!)
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Clementine: You know, it’s crazy that we’ve been friends for what, ten years? And this is the first time I’ve ever been to your family’s house.
Arthur: I’m sorry about that.
Arthur: Honestly, I hate this place. I’d rather hang out literally anywhere else, but I have the house to myself today, so it’s fine.
Clementine: Oh? Where’s your mom?
Arthur: She’s at work ... overseas.
Clementine: What kind of work does she do?
Arthur: Does it matter?
Clementine: I guess not?
Arthur: My room is through these doors—
Nimue: Arthur?
Arthur: Hi, Mother. I didn’t know you were home. You’re back from your work trip sooner than I thought.
Nimue: Oh!
Nimue: I didn’t know either. It was a last minute thing. Thought it would be a nice surprise.
Clementine: It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.
Nimue: It’s nice to meet you, too! Arthur’s one and only best friend. He’s told me—
Arthur: Can we do this another time, Mother? We’re kind of busy.
Nimue: Of ... course. Let me know if you two get hungry. I haven’t decided whether I’m making dinner or ordering out.
Arthur: Sure, thanks.
Clementine: I chickened out like a wimp. Ren was right there and I ran again.
Arthur: You’ve wanted to speak to him for a while, so why run?
Clementine: It’s been so long, but the memories are still fresh. When I saw him, I just froze. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I did. I always do.
Arthur: What is it that you want to tell him?
Clementine: I don’t know.
Arthur: That’s not true. You know deep down what you want to tell him. You’re too afraid to admit it, but you know.
Clementine: You might be right. Just a little.
Arthur: No, I am right.
Arthur: So, you know what you want to say to him. What do you want after that?
Clementine: I want us to go back to how we were before, but better.
Arthur: And if he doesn’t?
Clementine: At least we’d get everything off our chest and could continue on without regrets. It’s better than living the rest of my life wondering what could have been if I had swallowed my shame and actually spoken to him.
Clementine: Thanks for being my therapist or whatever. It means a lot. More than you’ll ever know.
Arthur: You’re my best friend, Clem.
Arthur: But I demand sufficient payment for my services. Two large pepperoni pizzas, please!
Clementine: Two?!
Clementine: Can you even eat that much?
Arthur: Dunno. We’ll have to find out.
Clementine: That’s so wasteful. You better eat it all.
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cheekblush · 1 year
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it's been A WEEK
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akaanonymouth · 1 year
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youtube
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gas-stxtion · 2 years
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//idk where the original is from but i stole this from one of my mutuals on discord <3
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libraryraccoon · 6 months
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Yuu and reader but
But reader is forgettable.
Imagine Reader who arrived in Twisted Wonderland with Yuu, they got along very well together and with Grim, but Yuu and Grim end up abandoning Reader, creating their group of friends that we all know. Reader tries to approach them, become friends with them, but without success.
And then Reader finds himself alone, and everyone acts as if he doesn't exist. So much so that Reader questions his existence and becomes very quiet.
The ghosts realize this and spend time with Reader, and Reader considers them his only true friends. I'm pretty sure Reader would have tried to kill himself to become a ghost and join the ghosts gang but would have failed.
Reader would have stopped going to class, some teachers (Trein and Crewel) would have noticed and talked to him about it.
Reader walks around campus at all hours without anyone noticing him (he would have already been dancing in class and singing loudly and out of tune and no one would have noticed).
In the end, Reader is left alone for so long, talking to no one except the ghosts, that he forgets his name (the ghosts call him "Little Ghost").
And at book 5, he meets Chenya. And this is how it happens :
“What do you do alone ?” Chenya asked.
"Wait... Are you talking to me ?" Reader asked sitting in a tree, looking left and right before looking at Chenya.
"Yeah ? There's no one else around." the cat remarked amusedly.
"Oh- sorry I'm not used to people seeing me !" Reader said with a smile on his face, excited that someone alive was talking to him.
"Huh ? Why ?" Chenya asked, frowning in confusion.
“Well, people still act like I’m not there, like I don’t exist.” Reader explained. “Exept ghosts, you’re the first to talk to me in months !”
“oh…” Chenya looked worried. “And what’s your name ?”
"Oh I'm-huh..." Reader said before frowning.
“Well, hello ‘huh’, I’m Chenya.” Chenya said trying to lighten the mood.
“Nah, nah.. I don’t remember my name.” Reader said sounding scared, his breathing quickening.
“huh ?”
"What's my name? What's my name? Who am I? I forgot? I forgot..."
"Hey, calm down, you'll remember.." Chenya tried to calmly reassure.
"No- no ! You're not supposed to notice me or talk to me ! Go with more important people, people who remember their names, who they are !" (Reader having an existential crisis <3)
In the end, Chenya manages to calm Reader down, and he calls him "Little Ghost" (like ghosts) until they find his name.
After that, Chenya will talk about that as his friends at the RSA (like Neige), and they would do all for create a new identity at Reader and after that they will take him with them at the RSA (The RSA director was the one that have the idea of the new identity).
Sam friends of the other side won't stop crying about "The child that have forget his name", making Sam confused (they never answer at his questions about him).
And Trein would be the one finding out that Reader have left three days later.
If nobody write that, I will write it myself.
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sleepyljihoon · 1 year
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Don't mind me just randomly spamming with content after months of inactivity jdnjdn
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mirohlayo · 19 hours
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Hi, can I request a Reader x F1 grid story where reader breaks her arm/leg and she can't race because of it, but she still attends the races to watch with her team? And then the drivers start to draw on her cast as a feel better soon gesture.
Maybe she also posts it on her social media throughout the day to show fans the progress of the drawings.
Thank you so much xxx
P.S. Love you writing
Hi !! So as you requested I used the F1 grid, but only the drivers who I write for originally (+ Albon). I also wrote reader as a F1 Academy driver to make it more easy to write and more realistic. It's the first time I write something like this, so hope you'll enjoy it girll !! ᥫ᭡
DRAWINGS ON MY BROKEN ARM
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( because maybe you just need some love from your handsome friends. )
warning : none just a broken arm, a cast and fluff
note : I really struggled a lot to find some good cast pictures, these ones are a bit awful lmaoo sorry
word count : 1.3k
It was not planned. This was absolutely not what was planned.
As you get out of the car with difficulty, greeting pleasantly the driver who kindly accompanied you to the Suzuka circuit, you try as best you can not to move your arm too much. If you make unnecessary efforts you will tire yourself out for nothing.
You absolutely did not choose to break your arm. It was due to a mistake, a very big mistake indeed. While you were testing your car during free practice, during a session where the falling rain flooded the track with water, your tires did not grip effectively and you found yourself thrown against the wall, in a fairly serious crash. surprising.
The teams immediately helped you, and while everyone was asking you if you were okay after this crash, that's when you realized a big problem: yes, you were okay, but not your arm. . And after a short stay in the hospital, you now find yourself - or rather your arm - stuck in an amazing cast.
You obviously cannot participate in the next F1 Academy races. But you can, however, do something else that is much more energetic and beneficial for you in the state you are in: attend the F1 race which is currently taking place in Japan.
After all, being locked up for almost a week in your apartment was totally boring and you really need a little fresh air, and above all the passion for this sport to stimulate. Being a very close friend of certain drivers, you did not hesitate for a single second to accept your team's proposal when they offered to accompany you to the Suzuka GP.
Now there you are in the paddock, trying to slip through the others to get to the Mercedes garage. There where you find Georges, who smiles with all his teeth at the sight of you.
“Hello you” He walks over to you and starts to wrap his arms around you in order to give you a hug, but a reflex immediately makes him step back. “Oh sorry, I forgot you have a... little problem” He struggles to finish his sentence, grimacing at the sight of your wrapped arm in a cast.
You giggle before patting his shoulder. "Are you better since your crash? I saw that a few days ago and I was really scared for you." His eyes scan you, he is worried about you. You smile softly at him to reassure him. "Don't worry. I may have a broken arm but that won't stop me from supporting you in this race."
“Oh, Y/n!” Lewis' voice calls out to you, and you turn to face him, Charles next to him. They both smile at you, taking care not to touch your arm so as not to hurt you further. "I'm so sorry about your crash. You must definitely be disappointed." Lewis affectionately caresses your shoulder, a show of affection and support.
"At least you're alive, that's the main thing. It's good to see you here, the other guys miss you you know." Charles explains the situation, telling you how worried and scared the pilots were following your accident. You also received several messages from them on instagram, in which they supported you and showered you with kind words.
“Y/NNN!!” Daniel screams your name from afar, a big smile on his face as he almost throws himself at you. “Hey watch out for his arm.” Lewis alerts Daniel so he doesn't hurt you, but he doesn't seem to hear anything and comes to take you in his arms. “Daniel, I’ll go back to the hospital if you continue.” He finally pulls away, carefully observing your cast.
“Maybe I should call the others, they’ll be happy to see you.” Charles volunteers to bring the other drivers back, while you chat with your friends. They are all very respectful and very attentive, they are sincerely empathetic towards you.
In the distance, you finally see the rest of the boys arriving.
“Here’s my girl.” Lando comes to wrap his arm around your shoulders, a smirk present on his lips. You push him away, grimacing to tease him, and he holds his heart as if you had just broken it into a thousand pieces. "I know I shouldn't have sent you that 'get well soon' with a red heart on Instagram, hypocrite." He pretends to roll his eyes but his smile betrays him.
"Indeed, you shouldn't have. Your teammate was the first to message me and that's why he's my favorite boy today." Oscar tssk while crossing his arms, however amused by the situation. Max, Carlos and Alex are discreetly added to the group that has just formed around you.
“Even with a broken arm, you can do a lot of things you know.” Max told you in a confident manner. “Like Lance last year.” Carlos chuckled at Lando, both nodding at the same time because they thought the same thing. You can't help but feel alive again.
It's true that the last few days were difficult. Alone, injured and locked in your apartment, you no longer had much of a taste for life. You kept asking yourself questions about your future, about the rest of the races of the year. You were also worried. But you knew that coming here, being surrounded by your closest friends again, laughing and talking with them, was all you needed. You can only be grateful to them.
“I have an idea guys!” Alex then exclaims, drawing attention to himself. “Since Y/n is injured, and her cast is… white and bland, we should draw to give her courage.” He said while pointing at your cast. The other drivers nod, agreeing with the Williams driver's idea.
“I will have the honor of drawing first!” Then begins George, who is already ready to fight to have his drawing on your cast. "She wants a drawing of her favorite driver which is me. Too bad for you, George." Lando, and his sassy attitude, is ahead of the Mercedes driver. “I bet I draw better than all of you so let me do it.” Carlos steps forward to assert himself.
They seem to be on the verge of fighting over who will have the honor of drawing best, or who will draw first. You laugh while calming the situation. "Look, you're all going to be able to draw. We just need some markers." You remark, as you wave to your team in the distance to help you.
It doesn't take long before they arrive with a small pencil case filled with different colored markers. You then sit on a chair in a corner of the garage, the nine drivers around you. Oscar is the first to draw on your cast, while the others are still fighting over who will go second.
In the end, after a good session of laughter and slightly failed drawings, the result is there. Your plaster is decorated with designs, each one as extravagant as the last, but that doesn't matter, because their intention comes from the heart. This sincere gesture will certainly give you courage for the rest of your adventure, you are sure of it.
And as they all give you one last smile, one last hug, they leave to prepare for the approaching race. You end up joining your team further in the VIP stands, ready for the start of the race. “What a beautiful cast” Your engineer nods at the magnificent designs on your arm, and you smile. “Beautiful may not be the word, but it’s very precious to me for sure.”
And as you share a laugh, the red lights go out, as the din of cars echoes throughout the circuit. For a moment, everything seems wonderful. It's crazy how a simple little attention like drawings can brighten up your day a little more. And can also brighten up the day of others, like those of your fans for example...
yourusername just posted !
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liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and others...
yourusername: maybe no more arm but at least I have my handsome boyys ❤️
view comments
danielricciardo: if anyone wonders who drew the beautiful star, it’s me ✌️😁
⤷ landonorris: you wrote on her arm instead of her cast you dickhead
⤷ danielricciardo: I was feeling different 😜
user: Alex just writing his name makes absolutely sense
user: no cuz they're literally the SWEETEST ahww
⤷ yourusername: only oscar cuz he's the one who drew the best
⤷ danielricciardo: but you said it was me earlier
⤷ yourusername: i lied plus you literally drew on my SKIN instead of my cast 😠
landonorris: my girl not giving any credits to my amazing beautiful drawing 💔
⤷ yourusername: yeah cuz you have no talent, keep it up it's awful mate 🔥🔥
⤷ landonorris: hypocrite I hate you
charles_leclerc: take care of yourself y/n ❤️
georgerussell63: I slayed, my drawing is lit
⤷ yourusername: no 🙄🥱
user: i need friends as precious as them, love their friendship !!
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A Sinner Deserves Their Saint - LN
Summary: Lando and Max's childhood friend went down a path that neither could stop her from going down. Last time Lando saw her, he was certain he'd never see her again.
Themes: Drug addiction/abuse, overdose
Important: There's not going to be a part 2
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2021
Lando groans as his phone rings. He should've put it on do not disturb.
"Hello?" Lando grunts then frowning when he hears panting.
"Lan, I-I don't know what happened. She was fine-she was the life of the party. She disappeared and then we-we looked for her an-"
"Max! What the fuck are you talking about?" Lando questions cutting in.
"Y/n took something-again! She took something again and she wasn't breathing. We're in the hospital now but they're not telling us anything. I didn't know who to call...they just keep saying she's being seen to." Max splutters out clearly still in shock and looking to rely on the one person who might understand his panic.
Y/n had started doing drugs recreationally about two years ago, at first she said it was just for the buzz on nights out and for a while that seemed to be the case. Then they started catching her do lines when she'd wake up and she explained it as just needing a pick me up.
The first time she took it too far and landed herself in hospital was 3 months ago. This is the 4th time she'd ended up in hospital.
"I'm on my way." Lando states after managing to get which hospital out of Max.
And an hour later he found himself in the hospital finding his shellshocked best friend.
"Any updates?"
"Uhh...it was amphetamine and mephedrone. Her-Her heart stopped and they got it going again but...they have her in the ICU and only family can see her. They're talking with the doctors."
Lando felt like the world was caving in around him, memories of them all as kids at karting. Innocent kids who had the world to claim as their own.
The two young men end up holding each other tightly in a hug.
"I'll drive us home. We'll come back and try to see her tomorrow."
They did try. They tried many times. Sometimes both of them, sometimes Lando had to go to races and work but Max kept going back.
Eventually, y/n was deemed well enough to leave and while her family wanted to force her to rehab. She wouldn't accept it and their options were to give her a place to at least sleep and let them know she is alive or to kick her out and risk finding out through a call from the police that they don't have a daughter to worry about anymore.
But after a month, Lando finally gets to see her.
She may not be detained by a rehab but her parents have done well to keep her locked in the house.
"Well if it isn't another face here to lecture and guilt trip me." Y/n scoffs curled up by her window looking almost as if she's mimicking Rapunzel locked in her tower away from the world. Only in her case it to keep her from hurting herself.
Though he'd bet she has stashed drugs to keep herself from smashing the window for her freedom.
"I just want to know you're ok." Lando states, having been warned she was in no good mood as of recent and he'd be unlikely to receive a warm welcome. "I want to help you, if I can, y/n."
"You can't." She snaps sharp eyes glaring at him. "And even if you could. I don't want your help. I don't want your pity. I don't want you to stand there and act like I'm unhappy doing drugs."
Something about her not realising how much she's hurting the people around her boils his blood in a way he never expected to feel with her.
"No. You're perfectly happy dying! You're happy making everyone around you miserably because they love you and you want to fuck up your life for drugs." Lando spits back, now having no sympathy. Though in his gut, his stomach is twisting.
Y/n seems to have nothing to say to that, returning to her balled up position leaning her forehead against a window.
"I didn't come here to fight, y/n." Lando sighs in defeat since he really just wanted to see her, to hold her and feel with his own hands that she's alive.
"I don't want you here, Lando." Y/n states with a voice that's void of emotion, icy is warmer than her tone right now.
So her leaves and he decides in that moment that if she doesn't want him there and she's made it very clear she has no interest in improving her own life. He'll just wait to attend her funeral in a few months. Her family would want him there.
Present time
"Do you know who I saw?" Max asks randomly as he sits getting ready to do a stream. Not quite live yet.
"Who?" Lando hums looking at his phone.
"Y/n."
The name makes the air around them still. Max knows Lando was so hurt by her reckless behaviour and heartless words.
"She's clean." He adds making Lando hum. "She apologised for everything. Especially the last time I saw her."
Y/n had been just as harsh if not worse to Max than she was to Lando.
"Did she seem happy?" Lando asks genuinely wanting to know.
"She seemed healthy. I don't know about happy...she started crying when she saw me. Hugged me pretty hard and we talked for a few hours." Max admits then turning. "Said she missed us."
"She only has herself to blame for that." Lando shrugs coldly. It still hurts and he'd prepared himself to never see herself again along with being ready to accept that he'd probably attend her funeral. "It's good she's clean and healthy though."
"You should go see her." Max states earning a sigh since Lando knew it was coming. "Lando...the two of you were closer than I ever was with her, don't tell me you don't want to see her."
"It's not like it's that simple, it is?" Lando frowns shaking his head. "It's great, I'm happy that she's better. That she's realised how much she was fucking up. But it's not that simple is it?"
"It'd be a lot more simply if you'd agree to see her...she asked after you, said she'd finally gone to rehab-"
"You're late to stream. I'm going home." Lando mutters standing up from the bed and moving to bump fists as a goodbye while Max nods.
He knew the risk of bringing y/n up. He'd spoken about her before one or twice since Lando last saw her and it was never received warmly. It wasn't as if he was updating the F1 driver, but more just reliving old memories or commenting on how she may be.
The next week is spent with Lando's brain fogged up by y/n.
Eventually he decides he can't go into a race weekend not having clarity about her. So he calls her parents who give him her number and he calls her. Feeling his heart thud hard.
He followed up calling her directly after calling her parents so she has no warning of his call.
"Hello?"
"Y/n?" Lando mumbles almost not recognising her voice or feeling surreal in hearing it.
"That's me. Who's this?"
"It's...Lando. I got your number from your parents."
"Lando? Oh I wasn't-Max...he spoke to you-I told him not to mention it. You shouldn't feel obligated to speak to me because I spoke to him." Y/n sighs sounding guilty about the matter.
"Where are you?"
"Um...I'm food shopping. Why?"
"I want to see you. Know for certain if Max was telling the truth."
"Oh-Okay. I uhh...I can come to your place from here if you want?"
"No. Send me your address, I'll come to you if you're food shopping." Lando states quickly then clearing his throat. "Just send me your address on this number, please."
"Ok." Y/n mumbles then clearing her throat. "I'll send it over. And see you soon."
Lando's heart is beating up his lungs from how hard it's beating. But he did it and he's going to see y/n. A woman who he's refused to talk about but has never been far from his mind is finally going to reappear in his life.
He was really certain he'd be attending his funeral, he was always just waiting for the call or message informing that she'd finally succumb to her demons.
She sends her address which isn't too far from her parents house, probably then who found it for her. Maybe a step of building trust to prove that she's made progress and they want her to know that they believe she can do it on her own.
There's some shame in Lando thinking that it's an error on their part.
Less than an hour after the phone call he finds himself seated in her living room. Her getting him a glass of water on his accepting of the offer for a drink.
"So you got yourself together." Lando comments as she returns, looking just as nervous as she has since she let him in.
She looks younger than when he last saw her. Her face not so hollowed, he'd not really noticed how unhealthy she'd got with not eating thanks to drugs pushing any hunger to the side.
"You look good, y/n." Lando comments while she manages a sad smile. "Don't look at me like that, y/n. I'm not the one who died."
"No, and it wasn't your parents who signed a DNR after the last time it happened."
"A DNR?"
"I went into a coma, no brain activity for a few days about 8 months after the last time I saw you. They told the doctors if I flatlined again to not resuscitate." Y/n sighs then clearing her throat when her eyes tear up. "I woke up after two weeks. Thankfully I was through most of my withdrawal."
"Is that when you got clean?"
"Yeah, well...I was sick of being the worst person everyone could think of and I think when parents decide their own child is not worth saving, that's when you've got to realise how much damage you're causing. I'm just sorry I didn't listen to you, Lando."
"You don't need to be sorry, you were...not thinking right." Lando shrugs then sighing. "I'm just glad I wasn't right about thinking that I'd never see you alive again after that day."
Y/n seems to pale at that statement, tears filling her eyes again before she blinks a few times.
"Do you know what's overdue?" Lando asks trying to lighten the mood.
"What?
"A hug, give me a hug." Lando smiles making her smile and move closer, hugging him tightly as he wraps his arms around her. "I've missed you so much, y/n."
"I missed you too. But I think being sober and realising what I'd let myself lose was for the better."
Lando sighs holding her tightly his chin resting on her shoulder as her looks at her with a tired expression.
"I think my mum was actually angrier at me with the way I treated you and Max than over the fact I was doing drugs." Y/n smiles softly while leaning to rest her head on top of his. "I really let someone good go."
"I've got a race this weekend, you should come out with me." Lando states since seeing her, now he really just wants to reconcile.
"I'd like that." Y/n nods then biting her lip a little.
-
Y/n is actually vaguely recognised from earlier fans of Lando's career. She was just as actively supportive over him and before that finally overdose that ended their friendship, she was still very much a big person in his life.
It never really got out what happened as to why she disappeared, but her reappearance has gained attention from fans. Especially since Lando was holding her hand so tightly his knuckles were white.
"Feels weird." Y/n mumbles as Lando does the track walk with her. "Like I don't belong in this part of your life anymore."
"Well I feel like you do." Lando shrugs since he knows all that is happening is her anxiety is getting the better of her, forcing emotions to surface. "And I want you here."
Y/n looks at him unsure of sharing his certainty.
"You treat me better than I deserve." Y/n whispers making him shake his head at her.
"You deserve the world, y/n." Lando states deciding that if there's any time to get honest with her it's now since the team isn't with him on the track walk, he wanted to do it just with y/n. "I thought we were going to get married one day before everything happened."
"Y-You did?" Y/n chokes out earning a nod. "We weren't even dating."
"We weren't, but it was sort of inevitable that we were going to get there one day. Anyway, don't act like we didn't sleep together." Lando shrugs feeling more and more confident about it since she's not denying him or saying there was no chance because the idea disgusts her. "Maybe we could...try?"
They actually slept together as part of a promise to each other, if Lando and herself hadn't lost their virginity as part of celebrating a race win. They both told themselves that it was a matter of sticking with someone they trusted for their first times. But anyone could debate about their truth feelings and intentions with each other.
"Sleeping together again, dating or marriage?" Y/n teases apparently somewhat settled in her nerves. "I could go on a date, but I feel like trusting you to plan a date comes with risks."
"I could plan a date with you, no problem."
"Yeah?"
"Yes."
"What ideas you got rattling around in there?"
"I'm not telling you, that will spoil the fun." Lando smirks then looking at her for a moment, noticing her expression. "What?"
"Just hoping you've improved in bed since we slept together, or one of us is going to be very embarrassed."
"I mean you weren't the best virgin in the world."
"I know, but I also know I've significantly improved on my game."
"You're unbelievable, how am I supposed to trust that's true?" Lando challenges watching her jaw drop while he laughs knowing that she's not really offended at the suggests.
"Guess we may need to get on a date then find out how good we are pretty soon." Y/n hums making Lando smirk a little.
"Still proving you're the smartest and most rational person I know."
"Because I'm saying we should go on a date and have sex? Not sure that's quite true." Y/n laughs before she finds herself picked up into a hug and spun around as they walk.
He only carries her a few steps before capturing her in a kiss that actually she wasn't expecting but she's certainly not mad about.
"Alright, well your kissing game has improved." Y/n teases earning an eye roll.
"Yours could use to work, but I'll help you with that."
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etherealstar-writes · 3 months
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I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 12
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pairings: lionesses x reader
summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.
part: twelve
part one here
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM
the REAL karate kid HOLD ON I FELL ASLEEP AND THIS IS WHAT I WAKE UP TO Y/N BAE WHAT IS THIS 😭
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elton OMG LESSI MY MEMES SKILLZ ARE FINALLY RUBBING OFF ON YA
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stairway still cannot believe this tho y/n 😔
neev neither 😔
willybum the betrayal 😔
the REAL karate kid y/n just so you know, we are not okay 😔
lotte 😔
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ so um ....
neev Y/NNN YOU'RE ALIVE HOW WAS THE DATE
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ he never showed up got stood up 😔
elton oh
stairway that is so sad
willybum that truly is terrible to hear
the REAL karate kid very sad
neev that really sucks
meado you idiots! atleast be nice and pretend to actually feel bad! ignore them y/n i'm really sorry to hear that he didn't deserve you at all
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ thank you beffy 🥺 it's fine gonna thrive in my single life forever i guess 😔✊
stairway well y/n i'm free tonight 👀
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ so am i 👀
willybum absolutely not we have our semis tomorrow you're not going anywhere
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ that is very unfortunate georgia 😔 maybe one day
stairway 😔
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ you know now that i'm getting better at my woso knowledge do a few of your teammates just not like messaging? bcuz there's a few not on this chat
neev hold on a sec you're right! chloe, esme, kirby, turner and zelem aren't even in the chat
staiway you forgot to add them ??
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ and you guys just realised 😭😭
elton shhhhh i'll add them now
elton added ona batlle
elton oh nuggets
the REAL karate kid HELP
elton i am walking and eating a donut and i accidentally clicked on the wrong person
willybum added katie
willybum do not trust ella to add people to this chat anymore
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ omg hey ona!
kie oh my days
ona batlle hello! :) i am not on the england team?
earpsy you qualify to be here anyway don't ya worry
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ ona, may i just say you are very peng
stairway Y/N.
neev peng 😭😭
ona batlle i am not sure what that means but i can only assume that it is good so thank you!
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ do you think i'm peng?
ona batlle yes sure! of course!
stairway 😐😐
katie ur ugly
elton hey katie! nice to see you too
katie i was talking to you
elton that is not nice
katie neither is being friends with you
elton i am not sure where this attitude has come from
willybum i love this new zelem
katie i hope you fall in the shower
willybum i take that back
katie HAHAHA HELP
neev WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING
katie HAH WILLYBUM THESE NAMES 😭😭 and i'm not katie zelem
meado i cannot believe how you guys keep doing this you added katie mccabe not zelem
elton OMG IT WASN'T ME IT WAS LEAH I DIDNT DO IT THIS TIME
rusty metal you literally added ona earlier ...
willybum changed the name katie to mccard
mccard was that name really necessary? really?
willybum yes.
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ OMG THE KATIE MCCABE ILY
mccard hello y/n ❤️
willybum absolutely not stay away from our y/n mccabe
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ OMG CAN WE ADD STEPH CATLEY TOO I LOVE HER
the REAL karate kid HUH
stairway hey hey hey you're supposed to be the lionesses' biggest fan what is this betrayal
neev yeah 😔😔
mccard added steph
meado STEPHYY hey girl!
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ OMG OMG NO ONE MOVE
steph katie did you add me here to get attacked bcuz i'm aussie? and heyy beffy!
mccard not this time :)
steph national diving time?! help 😭😭
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ omg hi!! ily you're amazing
steph aww thank you y/n!!
stairway look toone what have you done everyone's stealing y/n away from us now
elton how is any of this my fault?!!
the REAL karate kid it is
neev it is
lotte it is
willybum it is
earpsy it is
brightness it is
daily it is
stairway it is
rusty metal it is
meado it is
mccard it is
elton
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i hate you all so much
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
part thirteen here
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communistchilchuck · 9 days
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Muhannad reached out to me to help share his fundraiser. He is urgently trying to raise money to help evacuate his 5-person family from Gaza. He has only raised $1,086 AUD out of his $35,000 goal so far! Please share and donate, and if you can't donate, please still share!
From Muhannad's GFM:
Give us the last chance to survive and leave Gaza
Hello everyone, I am Muhannad from Gaza. I hope this message finds you well and safely.
I'm here trying to save my family from the genocide happening in Gaza. You will save the lives of 5 amazing family members, 3 of whom are children. My wonderful mother, Nisreen, suffers from a recurrent tumor in the parotid gland. It requires urgent follow-up every 6 months to control the progression of the tumor because it is very close to the brain and the chances of it spreading are high.
My family faces death every minute... I feel constant terror when I hear every bombing surrounding them, the only thing I can do to save their lives is evacuate them from the death zone. However, the border is closed to citizens trying to leave. There is only one way for families to leave, and it requires an amount of money of $6000 per person. We do not have this amount after destroying our property and depriving everyone of access to banks or withdrawing their money. Hence, I am here to ask for your support to reach the targeted amount of money needed to evacuate my family while they are still alive.
All my family members who are in Gaza now (my father, my sister Farah, my sister Hala, my brother Abdullah, my mother) who were living the best days of their lives a few months ago are now facing unprecedented challenges to survive day by day. day. In addition to the continuous indiscriminate bombing, which led to their displacement repeatedly.
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rory-cakes · 2 months
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A Buck and A Canary
What was she doing here?
Why was she smiling at him like nothing happened?
He left their child alone!
He let her die!
He lied to her!
It has been one week since the battle at the Habin Hotel. They were starting to finish the reconstruction of the hotel when something strange happened. An angel appeared. 
“Hello! My name is Y/n Altruist, and the higher-ups of heaven have sent me to oversee the progress of the hotel!” 
“THEY CHANGED THEIR MINDS!?” Charlie was practically vibrating with joy. 
“Why?” Vaggie asked skeptically. 
“Well, unlike before, we have proof that your hotel works! A certain serpent has shown up in heaven!”
“Sir Penitouse is alive!” everyone was filled with overwhelming joy. 
“Also”
Y/n bowed in respect. 
“I deeply apologize for the exterminations. They were never supposed to happen. Sera and Adam were working alone in that sense.” 
Charlie grabbed her hand and helped her back up. 
“So really, no one knew? How is that possible?”
“The seven virtues are the only defense against evil on Earth so they have their hands full with that, I’m afraid. I was at the meeting and I brought up the issue as soon as I could!”
“Why do you care so much about what happens to us? No offense, we’re really grateful you did what you did! But why?”
“Well, I'm afraid my answer is a little selfish. My husband is down here. He wasn’t a good man but he was a good husband and he would have been a good father hadn’t he died.”
How did an angel like her end up with someone down here?
Wait-
An angel like her?
“Im sorry, but what is your husband’s na-”
“Birdy?”
“Alastor?”
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Alastor sat uncomfortably on the plush couch in his room. Y/n sat equally as uncomfortable in a chair of a similar design. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife. 
Alastor avoided making eye contact with his wife. I mean she had to know who he truly was at this point. How could she not?
“Alastor.”
She breaks the silence. 
“I’ve missed you dearly, my darling.”
Why was she smiling?
“I know what you did, and while I can’t say I’m pleased, that doesn’t change the fact that you are my husband.”
What?
“You cherished and loved me for so many years. You took care of me and Eudora. You loved me with everything you had.”
This isn’t right.
“So, if you haven’t stopped loving me in the time we’ve been apart,”
No
“I’d like to be your wife still.”
Alastor finally looked at his ethereal wife. She was so good. She shouldn’t be corrupted by his darkness. 
“I left her alone.”
“So did I.”
Y/n smiled at the man in front of her. This was her Alastor. This was the man she fell in love with. Sure, there were blazing red flags and she should probably be running for the hills. However, she can’t deny the urge to be with him. 
“I’ve been watching over her.”
“You have? How is she?”
“She’s lived a long life. She’s been married to her wife for about 40 years now. She adopted three kids and has a bunch of grandkids. She had her own radio show, Al!”
“She did?”
“She did.”
Y/n moves to sit beside him and grabs his hand with both of hers. Alastor finally pulls her closer,
“You deserve so much more than I am. I cursed you in life I can’t let you get hurt again.”
“You are all that I want, and if I get cursed because of it, that will have been my decision.”
She places her hand on his face, and he leans into it. 
“My darling Alastor, there is nothing you can do for me to stop loving you.”
“Alright, Birdy, I’ll have you for as long as you wish to stay.”
And so the Buck was reunited with his Canary.  
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A/N: Hi! I hope you liked the last part of Alastor's Birdy! If you have scenarios you would like me to write with this au, just send me an ask and ill get to it as soon as I can!
Taglist: @crazed-flower, @nanamunath, @preferably-fictional, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @leximus98, @cupidsgift, @mag-chan, @stygianoir, @thereeallink, @yelloeukulele, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, blurpleuni-squid, @galaxywing-has-adhd, @just-here-reading, @deez-nuts0, @strawberry-gothic, @purplerose291,@1-800-mocha, @trashbin-nie, @queenmizuki, @nkirukaj @bennythebitch @otherthoughtsofbu, @fantasycantasy, @hunnybee11626, @notally-tormal, @valerie-36, @lovingyeet, @holographicage, @har-har-harvey, @i-love-jafar, @cupidsgift, @meow-meowo, @theblueslytherin, @deadt3tinside, @lyralibra, @the-unhinged-raccoon, @avitute, @alastorswifeee, @stygianoir, @sideshow-b0b, @deadlymouse123, @mysingularitybts, @emotionalfangirl2002, @t0xic1vi, @goodlittlepup, @starsatmyhome, @wendds, @reader3, @redfoxgotlost, @hurthermore, @frostychurro @isa-dragon
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jo-harrington · 3 months
Text
Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Prologue: Crossover
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Summary: Everyone wishes that they could have an Eddie Munson in their lives. In a strange turn of events, Eddie wishes that he could meet you, his favorite character from a cult classic 80's TV series. And he's about to get his wish.
Word Count: 3.9k
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader
Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Minor Angst, Fluff, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events
Note: Hello and welcome. I'm very excited about getting to expand on this idea; it's going to be a wild ride. Please note as you head in, and as we get into further chapters...this fic is going to be a little mind-fucky and a little bit self aware. This is my love letter to and my criticism of fanfiction, but at the end of the day, we're still gonna get to fall in love with Eddie and get some kind of Happily Ever After. This is my guarantee.
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
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May 2022. Such a weird time.
A time of uncertainty, a time of change. A time where the world seemed like it had been torn apart and was slowly being knit back together again.
But then a switch was flipped. Something happened. An old season ended and a new one started and with that start came something new. Someone new. And suddenly, countless people began to yearn for this new person in their lives.
A new, old person. Eddie Munson.
Joy ignited. Creativity sparked. Millions of words written and read. Edits made. Art drawn. Merch bought.
So many voices crying “why isn’t he real. WHY ISN'T HE REAL.”
If there was a god, he would let them have their own Eddie Munson. And if there was a Satan, he would let them sell their souls for Eddie Munson.
That’s just not how the universe works.
At least…not this one...
October 1985. A different kind of place and time. Still weird.
But Eddie Munson was real.
Sometimes to his detriment.
And for the most part, it was alright.
He played guitar, laughed with friends, mocked bullies to protect the people like him that were considered less than. He'd overcome hardships of one sort or another for most of his life, he could keep at it for a little while longer.
It would be his day week month year sometime soon.
Wouldn't it?
But until then, he would bide his time. Hopefully, this year, he'd pass all of his classes and finally graduate. Get to flip that douchebag Higgins off and snatch up a long-awaited, and well-deserved diploma.
What made it all easier, what softened the blow...was you.
It was silly. He knew that. Ronnie used to tease him on Wednesday nights when he needed to run home because he had a "standing date with his girl."
"Your girl doesn't even know you're alive," she'd scoff as he bustled her into the van. "She isn't real."
No...no you weren't.
Why couldn't you be real.
See, for the past...however long Eddie had spent his late nights half-assing homework, planning campaigns for Hellfire, working on music, and watching a television show. His guilty pleasure, a show about the ups and downs and upside downs of living in a sleepy suburban town: Port Geneva.
A show where you were his favorite character.
And crush.
You weren't the main character--in fact, you were just the main character's quirky best friend--but you were a fan favorite, as much as he could tell. You'd only been in the background during the first season, but before long you were front and just-left-of-center. And last year, you'd even gotten a two-episode arc in the season finale as you turned the small town on its head by announcing, a month or two before graduation, that you were quitting school to follow your dream and become an artist.
And man...Eddie had been there.
He'd actually missed those episodes airing when...well, when everything happened with his father and the heist...and the house...and Paige.
He'd missed a lot of episodes that season. Missed seeing you come into your own as he tried and failed to come into his.
Thankfully Wayne--and Eddie wasn't a believer but whatever deity in charge needed to bless his Uncle Wayne--had the foresight to tape those episodes for him.
Those tapes would be cherished 'til the day he died, because they had truly gotten him through those tough days after everything.
He wished he had seen them when they aired, maybe...maybe he would have made some different decisions if he had.
Of course, Eddie had already loved you before then.
Since he had first laid eyes on you, actually.
He was sure that if you were real, you would be the one to understand him more than any of his friends. See the real him. In return, he would understand you, be there for you too.
He already had been. He'd seen you cry countless times, he'd laughed with you, celebrated your successes and mourned your failures. He'd been there for you when you crushed on that dickhead Mark, and then had your heart broken by the careless jerk.
And somewhere deep down inside of him, when he was sitting in that jail cell after he wasted his phone call on Paige and he felt the weight of the world bear down on his shoulders…he wished that you were real so he could have called you instead.
If you were real, Eddie's life would just be a little nicer.
He knew…he just knew.
Of course, in the mean time while he wished with every fiber of his being that you would walk into his life, he brought you to life in other ways. During mid-season and summer hiatuses, he would write you into his DND campaigns. His friends knew, they always called him out for it.
"Are you seriously making her an NPC man?" Dougie would scoff and throw a D20 across the table at him.
"No, what are you talking about?" he defended and threw the die right back at his friend. "This is Spiria the Bold."
"Uh huh," Jeff rolled his eyes. "Sure."
By his imagination and his pen, you became a powerful warrior, a sharp-tongued trickster, a seductive mage. You became anything he wanted you to be--most often with a companion and lover that mirrored him--and everything he knew, deep down, that you were.
And then the unthinkable happened.
September ‘84. He and Wayne were in the checkout line at K-mart. Cart stacked with new clothes and school supplies and groceries. When suddenly...there you were. Right in front of him.
Alright, not you. Per se. But your face, smiling alongside Samantha and Patrick and Scotty and Bill on the cover of the TV Guide.
On Set with the Stars of Port Geneva.
Wayne was the one to snatch the magazine from the rack and add it to their bounty, a knowing smile on his lips as he shook his head.
He knew Eddie needed a little pick-me-up.
Or a big one.
How could he have known this would be anything but one...
Eddie scoured over the pages once they got back to the trailer. He was hoping there would be a big enough picture of you that he could cut out and tape to the otherwise barren walls of his new room. And there was; you were leaning against the back of your signature pastel blue Volkswagen Beetle, arms across your chest, head tilted to the side with the signature scrunched smile you gave when you were embarrassed.
He adored you.
Before he took scissors to the page, he read the interview with your actress.
He wasn't too keen on her, even though she had your face.
The illusion that Rosemary Glass was really you had been shattered the first time he'd heard her voice on a radio interview; instead of your perfect and familiar middle-American speech...Rosemary's voice was accented.
Not to mention, she sounded pretentious.
Gross.
Still, he could look past that annoyance if he got some kind of insight to what the next season would bring for you.
Hopefully not a new love interest. His heart could only take so much.
...gives us a tour of the Patterson and Son's set, one that is forever enshrined as the setting of Patrick and Samantha's first kiss. "Oh I'm actually not fond of that scene," Rosemary confesses. "Yeah it's sweet, and the way I bring Sam in so Pat could confess his feelings but the...when I fell down? It was not scripted. And I was honestly shocked they kept that in. But fans seem to think she's clumsy now because of it. That I'm clumsy. When I just tripped over a wire. It's quite awful, really." We ask Rosemary to tell us what she'll miss most, now that the show is coming to an end...
Eddie went rigid as he read those words.
The show...coming to an end?
"What?" he exclaimed into his empty room. "No, no, no."
He carefully examined the article again, then turned back to the beginning of the feature, only to feel his heart stop in his chest.
The title of the feature was like crit hit.
The final killing blow to his already weak constitution.
One Last Summer in Port Geneva - On the Set of the Final Season
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The final season was a sham.
Eddie savored every episode, though. Of course he would!
He would enjoy every last moment with you that he could get before he lost you forever. But...he hated it.
It was lazy writing--seriously what were they thinking--and a quick, cheap means to tie up all the loose ends they'd set up over the years. He could tell they tried to deliver as fulfilling a finale for the extensive cast of characters as they could. Still, he was sure he could have done better.
Samantha and Patrick got engaged after graduation. That was lame.
Bonnie finally quit the bakery to open her own cafe the next town over. Didn't anyone remember that she wanted to quit because she wanted to be a vet instead? That was the whole point of her! She didn't want to follow in her family's footsteps and she was doing just that.
And you? You took a backseat.
Instead of leaving town right after graduation--something that you had followed through reluctantly to make your parents happy even though you had just resolved to put your own happiness first for once--you stayed to help Pat plan his proposal.
Your big adventure, your big push for your dreams, were on hold again. You played second fiddle over and over until the final episode.
Eddie was grateful to have you for a little longer, but...once again annoyed that you were looked over--over and over, just like he was--when you had already proved that you were worthy of top billing.
Worthy of being the main character for once.
Still, at the beginning of the series finale, you packed your bags, cashed in your savings account, and drove out of town. The future was yours, just like it was always meant to be.
And Eddie cried.
The whole time tears streamed down his face as you said your own watery goodbyes. He might have even waved as you stuck your hand out the windshield to say goodbye to your friends as your car idled at the last stop sign. You blew a kiss to everything you knew and loved then started on your way into the unknown, car getting smaller in the distance right before the commercial break.
He held his breath for the final scene: a walk through the house where it all started and then Sam smiled her signature hopeful smile as she shut the door on the audience.
The screen faded to black for one final time and he exhaled.
"It's over," he muttered in slight disbelief, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself.
Port Geneva was over, and you were gone for good.
It was a strange feeling.
Heartbreak, mourning, disappointment? He couldn't really know for sure. Empty was the best way to describe it; the lack of feeling. It was infuriating. Port Geneva was just a television show, he attempted to rationalize for the nth time since he started watching. You were just a character on a tv show; how could you mourn for someone and something that wasn't even real?
You hadn't actually died. He could still see glimpses of you if he wanted, whenever Rosemary Glass' next movie came out or something.
But that wasn't you.
You were gone, for all intents and purposes, and it was a blow that hit Eddie hard.
How could he go on without you?
Devastated, he got high that night after he stewed on his grief. He day-dreamed and monologued to an empty trailer about a universe where the two of you were together, where your travels took you to Hawkins, of all places, and you fell in love with him, just like you were supposed to.
If the walls could talk, they would have a fantastic tale to tell. One with heroes and misunderstandings and love at first sight. One with a horrible, unseen foe and many pitfalls and dangers that exceeded anyone's wildest imaginations. One with a magic door that led to the happily ever that was beyond well-deserved.
Grief did wonderful and terrible things, after all.
He woke up for school the next morning with cotton mouth and a vague outline of a story that did just that: brought you to Hawkins to fall in love with him and all of the other things that seemed like nonsense once he was in a more right-minded state.
The only problem was that it was all in his English notebook. And he didn't need anyone finding that.
"Fuck," he groaned and ripped the page out. He shoved it into his bedside drawer, where it would be doomed to a crumpled and forgotten future.
Or until he needed a condom.
Which, considering how everyone had doubled down on their disgust of him, wouldn't be any time soon.
But there you stayed.
Put away, like old obsessions and childish things, to be ignored and forgotten.
At least for a little while.
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Eddie tried.
He did.
He kept you and Port Geneva out of sight and mind as much as humanly possible. It was the most effort he had really put to anything tangible in the past year.
The series ended at a weird time--during the middle of the season--and some investigative journalism show took over its time slot. Barbara Walters couldn't hold a candle to you, so it wasn't difficult for him to keep himself rooted in reality on the nights where he typically indulged in his silly fantasies.
The daydreams that he had were limited to lyrics for Corroded Coffin originals and ideas for Hellfire, and nights were spent alone in the darkness of the living room, with his reflection in the television set to keep him company as he tried his best to do homework that he'd already done before.
Before he realized, though, the school year was coming to a close and he was--big shocker--on the brink of failure. It wasn't until Higgins called him into his office, again, that you made your violent resurgence into his life.
There was a tentative truce between Higgins and Eddie for a while.
Civility was a strange thing for both of them. They actively avoided one another, save for a snide jab here and there, and Eddie tried to stay out of the Principal's Office as much as he could.
That is, until Higgins was forced to tell Eddie that he needed to repeat his repeat senior year.
"Don't act like I want this at all," he sneered at Eddie who tripped over a reaction. "I'd rather have you out of these halls for good. You drop out one year, then you re-enroll and you fail another. Try to make the most of it this time Munson; I don't want to have this talk again."
Eddie grumbled the whole drive back to the trailer, and he fell onto the sofa with his head in his hands once he got in.
"Which one of the fates wrote this stupid plot for me now, as if last year wasn't enough. You can't make this stuff up sometimes."
He laid there, wallowing in his misery for hours, days, years, until it got dark enough for headlights outside to be noticeable as they shined through the window. There was a glint of a reflection that caught his eye and had him turn his head.
"TV," he sighed and reached out as though he could touch the set and stacks of tapes neatly piled below. “The cause-of and solution-to all of life’s problems.”
He contemplated his life for a few more minutes.
He could make the most of the final few weeks of the school year. He could set himself up as a willing and reliable pupil for these last few assignments and tests, even though they wouldn't mean very much.
He could do all of these things so that when he walked into the halls of Hawkins High in the fall, on his absolute last first day of school--whatever deity or powers-that-be willing, because how "getting the hell outta dodge or he would die here" turned into "two extra years in that shit hole" he could only attribute to cosmic intervention--the faculty would already know he would try his best this time.
It would show them he was serious about graduating and that he would succeed despite all odds against him. Finally.
He could do this.
Or...
He could put in one of the tapes from the stack and scrounge for loose bills left over from his last few transactions and order a pizza. Pretend like he didn't exist for a little while.
And given the choice?
Eddie Munson chose the latter.
And he continued to choose the latter throughout the summer and even into the fall.
Nights that he didn't already have plans were spent in front of the television.
They were cherished nights with you.
Aside from his VHS recordings, he found a channel that showed reruns of Port Geneva after 10pm. Two hours of small town shenanigans that might very well be found just outside of his own door--if he only went and looked--with you just there, making your appearance every so often and catching his eye.
Homework was sometimes left halfway done on the coffee table until he needed to switch out a tape, or change the channel, and he spent more time filling his heart than enriching his mind, so to speak; he knew all of this school stuff already anyways.
Third times a charm and all right?
He talked to the screen more often than not, tried to warn you against one disappointment or another. Sometimes, if he was watching one of his tapes, he'd pause right on your face and just talk to you. Mundane things, usually, like Ronnie's last phone call home or some album that got released and a song he thought you might like.
Other nights, like tonight, he got vulnerable. Moments where life seemed a little extra trying, and he'd confess his feelings to your image.
Knelt on the floor in front of the coffee table, warm light bathed his face promising comfort as he spoke, and the din of static emitted from the television set, akin to an angel's voice...beyond understanding of humans.
He'd never been one for church, but this kind of confessional was sacred enough.
An eternal bond, just you and him.
He stopped his ramblings at that thought.
It was a strange moment of clarity.
Where had that come from?
"I..." Eddie looked down at himself, a foot away from the television set, remote clenched in his hand. Then he looked at you, soul-filled eyes just beyond the glass, not looking at him, only...through him, just past him. "What am I doing?"
What was he doing? He was...he wasn't a kid anymore who could hide in his dreams; well, honestly he was always going to do that, but this was different.
One minute he felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders as he told you about his troubles, and the next it was all back, heavier than ever, as he realized how silly this all was.
And here he was, wasting his life knelt at your altar.
It wasn't holy. It was pathetic.
You'd never answer; you weren't real.
"Why?" he asked aloud, jaw clenched. He gripped the remote tightly. "What did I do to not have...someone? Huh? What have I ever done to be alone? That I have to rely on a fucking television character to feel understood. And now I'm losing my mind talking to myself, talking to you, at midnight every night. Why am I here wishing that you're real? Why couldn't you just...be...real?"
If there was a God, he would let Eddie Munson have you. If there was a Satan, he would let Eddie sell his soul for you.
And that's how he knew neither of them existed: you didn't exist either.
Eddie hit the eject button on the VCR and was about to shut everything so he could go to bed, when there was a crash outside.
Crashes in Forest Hills weren't abnormal--someone backing into trash cans, losing traction on the icy roads in the winter, and the one time Mrs. Dawson kicked her husband out and threw all of his things out the window--but it was something he'd gotten used to since he came to live with Wayne.
This crash, however, started a ruckus.
Someone was yelling and that stupid dog across the way started barking.
Eddie was a lot of things...but a dramatic gossip was definitely high on the list.
What else was there to do in the Midwest?
He grabbed his cigarettes from the bowl full of junk on the coffee table and stepped outside, fully intent on plopping down on the old couch on the porch to smoke and watch the scene unfold.
A car crashed into the telephone pole; didn't look like there was much damage but it had run through some trashcans and might have clipped the drivers side mirror off of Mrs. Mayfield's car. The same Mrs. Mayfield who was on her own porch being held back by Max as she yelled.
"Are you kidding me? It's fucking midnight!"
"Mom! Stop!"
"The car, Max!"
Maybe there'd be a fight.
He barely got his cigarette lit when he noticed--really noticed--the offending car: a powder blue Volkswagen Beetle.
He blinked several times and then rubbed his eyes, thinking it might have just been a trick of the light or something.
Or it was a coincidence.
Or a dream.
Maybe he'd had a heart attack and died in front of his television or something?
Plenty of people drove Volkswagen Beetles. He was pretty sure he'd even heard Nancy Wheeler asking her parents for one as a graduation present.
But with the same license plate number?
The same one from the show, the same one that was in the TV Guide all those months ago. The same one on the makeshift poster he had taped on the wall next to his bed, that he'd run his fingers over to "kiss" you goodbye countless times, just like he did to his guitar.
"It's just dark," he tried to convince himself, "and I'm tired, and...and..."
It was a coincidence. It was a dream.
He repeated the mantra over and over in his head like a lifeline.
It was another fan like him who just used fantasy to make their life a little better. That's all he was trying to do too, right? He could understand; hell, if this was a new neighbor, maybe he'd be able to chat with them about the show. Wouldn't that be something?
Eddie was so distracted making up endless excuses for himself that he didn't notice Mrs. Mayfield as she threw her hands up in the air with an exaggerated "I'm calling the police. He didn't hear Max holler at her mom to calm down, or see the tail lights of the Beetle turn off either.
It wasn't until the driver's side door swung open and a sneaker-covered foot crunched against the gravel that he forgot all the excuses he was conjuring.
And his heart stopped as the driver got out of the car and stood in the faint glow of the streetlight.
Because that driver was you.
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