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streamafterlaughter · 2 years

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New Kid

Chapter III: The Problem

MASTERLIST | chapter ii | playlist

summary: every party comes to an end. This one is no different, when you and Eddie are interrupted from your night of fun.

tags: so much angst, bullying/fist fighting/violence, strong language, mentions of weed and alcohol, fluff, slow burn, god dammit why won’t you kiss already 👹 eddie munson x reader, gn!nb!reader

a/n: I wrote this one super quickly, im a big fan of this turning point. Chapter 4 is already in the works! It will be posted shortly after this one, I know this one is shorter. Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated.

Your POV

“Get out of the car, freaks.” Jason’s voice is muffled by the glass, and you don’t dare roll your window down. He’s got a beer bottle in his hand, and his friends behind him look just drunk enough to cause a scene.

You look to Eddie, “What the fuck do we do? Do we run? We’re way too drunk to drive.”

Eddie takes a minute to ponder that. “Shit, you’re right. Uh, let me handle this.”

—

Eddie’s POV

He takes a deep breath, heaving himself from the driver’s seat, and locking the door behind him. Eddie strides toward Jason carefully, ready to tell you to run if the moment calls. “Good evening, fellas! How are we this fine night?” Eddie places his hands on his hips, mocking Jason’s stance, causing him to drop his arms.

“Thing is, Munson, we heard you’ve been going around corrupting the fine young kids at Hawkins.” Jason takes a step closer to Eddie, meaning to assert his dominance.

Eddie snorts, baffled. “That’s it, man? You came all the way down here to accuse me of offering kids refuge from people like you?!” He gestures wildly to the boys before him.

“See, the guys and I have talked, and we feel you’re endangering these kids. With your satanic games, your loud hellish ‘music,’” he air quotes, “and the way you let yourselves be perceived. We think,” Jason looks back to Andy and Chance, who nod to confirm what he’s saying. “that it’s time we put you in your place.”

Before Eddie can brace himself, Andy and Chance are behind him, each with an arm in their grasp. Jason runs at Eddie, fist clenched, and connects with his jaw. Eddie struggles against the jocks’ grip on him, but Jason hits him again, this time in the gut, causing him to keel over on impact. Eddie spits at him, a mix of blood and saliva leaving a tang in his mouth.

—

Your POV

The second punch rips you out of the van, safety be damned. You hop on the taller jock’s back, your arm wrapping around his throat. He releases his grip on Eddie, and you scramble off of him, charging straight at Jason.

“Hey, fucker!” You screech, voice raspy from the joint and cigarettes. You catch Jason off guard, hitting him square in the nose, then bring your heavy boot down on his foot. This gives Eddie time to get off the ground, but now Jason’s got your arms locked behind your back.

“What now, you little slut? Who do you think you are, coming to Hawkins dressed like a demon, thinking you can just get away with it. Hanging out with trailer trash like him, you deserve what’s about to happen.” Jason spits in your ear as he talks, and you can smell the heavy liquor on his breath. The beer hadn’t been his first drink.

Eddie tackles Jason from the side then, getting him to release you. You have the chance to run, to call for help, but somewhere deep down you know the police won’t do any good. You’re probably the ones looking at assault charges if you can’t get out of here.

Eddie’s pounding Jason into near unconsciousness, so you run at him, tugging him off by the shoulders. “Eddie, we have to go! NOW!” He whips his head up to look at you. His eyes are wild with anger, nose dripping blood, and his hair is a mess. You look down and find his rings bloodied, and Jason in a heap underneath him, struggling to free himself from Eddie’s weight. The fear in your eyes brings Eddie back to Earth, and he pulls himself off the jock, scrambling to his feet.

The two of you leave Eddie’s van parked in front of Gareth’s and book it. The wet ground causes you to slip before finding your footing, and you run faster than you have since you outran the cops at a protest last summer. Your heart pounds hard in your chest, each breath more ragged than the last. Eddie’s in front of you, arms pumping at his sides to push him faster. He’s done this before, probably more than a few times.

You have no idea where you are when the two of you finally stop to catch your breath. You look over to Eddie, who’s hunched over with his hands on his knees, his breath heaving. You walk over to him slowly, not to startle him. You see the sign now, Forest Hills Trailer Park. You think of home, the orange line to Forest Hills, the city where no one minded if you wore too much denim and leather, too many pins pushed through your face. You take a second to mourn, before worrying again that you have no clue where you are.

“Hey.” you say, putting your hand on his shoulder. He stands up then, straightening himself to look less hurt than he probably is.

“Hey.”

“Where are we?” The trailers are indistinguishable, but you follow Eddie to the front door of one that he must frequent.

He hesitates. “Uh, we’re at my… my uncle’s.” Eddie opens the door of the trailer, leading you into a small living room/kitchen. “He works nights, so we can hang here ‘til the excitement dies down.”

“How the fuck did he find us?!” You start pacing as Eddie throws himself onto the couch. “They obviously weren’t invited to Gareth’s party, right?” You stop to look at him.

Eddie shrugs, “We have this party every year, he must have caught wind somehow. People talk. The wrong people listen.” He’s got a tissue shoved in his nostril, and in the light you can see he’s starting to bruise under his eye. “Are you okay?” He looks at you. Besides being covered in dirt, and your hand aching from punching Jason, you’re in perfect condition compared to the bruised and bloody boy.

You scoff. “Are you okay?!” You ask, incredulously. You walk into his kitchen, and help yourself to the frozen peas in the freezer. You grab a dish rag and wrap the ice pack, then sit down almost on top of Eddie. “Here.” You hand the ice to him. He looks from the frozen peas to you, and you roll your eyes as you place them to his eye for him. Your faces are close, and he watches as you tend to him.

Eddie’s POV

Eddie can’t help but watch as you hold the ice to his eye. Even lacking half his vision, he’s intoxicated by your face. Your lips are slightly parted, your tongue sticking out in concentration. Your brow is furrowed, your nose wrinkled. He looks down, at the hand used to deck Jason, sitting tenderly in your lap. Purple bruises are already starting to form around your knuckles, and two of them are scabbing over with blood. He’s not sure if it’s yours or Jason’s, but he takes the busted hand in his own gently, bending and stretching each of your fingers. “Gotta make sure you didn’t break ‘em. How else am I gonna teach you guitar?”

You laugh, more to yourself. “What? I’m serious!” He clutches his chest, pretending to be hurt.

“No, I know you’re serious. But I know how to play guitar.” You smile at him, and he blushes with embarrassment.

“Of course you do, you’re literally the coolest person I’ve ever met.” He shakes his head quickly, causing his head to pound against his skull.

“Oh please, you’re the one who took on three guys,” you pause, “Wait. That’s not what I meant.”

Eddie erupts into laughter, leaning back into the couch and causing you to topple on top of him.

Your faces are so close together your noses are touching. You’re still holding the ice pack to his head, and he’s grasped a hand on your waist to steady himself.

That’s how you're found by Steve when he barges into Eddie’s trailer, Robin and Nancy barreling in behind him.

—-

Your POV

Oh, come on. “Hey, guys!” You scramble off of Eddie, much to your dismay. You swear you see Eddie frown as you move, but you blame it on your lingering intoxication.

“Are you guys alright?!” Robin rushes over to you, checking your face and clothes like a concerned mother. “We heard what happened. What a little bitch.”

“They seem pretty okay to me.” Steve teases, looking from your blushing face to Eddie’s.

“Steve, shut up, this is serious.” Nancy backhands him in the stomach, causing him to flinch.

“We’re okay, we’re good!” You grab Robin’s wrists, removing her arms from fussing over you. “Jason and his fucking buddies jumped us, but we handled it. I’m more concerned about what’s gonna happen now.” You look back down at Eddie, his eyes glued to the floor.

“Nothing’s gonna happen.” He grumbles.

“What?”

“Jason’s too chickenshit to tell anyone he got beat up by a freak.” the anger in his tone is palpable. “He’ll lie and say he injured himself at practice or something. No one’s gonna know anything.” He seems so sure about it, furthering your belief that this isn’t Eddie’s first incident with Jason.

Steve shrugs. “He’s probably right, He’s always been a fucking coward.”

—

Eddie’s POV

The two have hated each other for Jason’s entire high school career. He targeted Eddie, a bold move going after a junior as a freshman. Each time, Eddie had let Jason get his punches in, only hitting back when Jason started bringing Andy and Chance around and making the fights unfair. These aren’t his proudest moments, rage filled testosterone affecting him like any other high school boy, but it’s something he grew used to as an outcast. He never wanted his problems to be anyone else’s, so he never snitched, never even told the guys about it. He never expected them to involve someone else, and it hurts beyond words that it was you. He’s embarrassed by the display of pure rage, despite having it be in self defense.

Eddie is freed from his thoughts when he hears you inquire, “Is it cool if I stay with you tonight? My mom’s gonna freak when she sees me.”

He looks up to see your eyes aren’t on him. His heart is beating painfully in his chest, desperately trying to catch up with how fast his brain is moving and his mouth spits out “Yes, yeah, of course you can.”

“Oh, I was uh, talking to Robin.” You smile sheepishly. Eddie looks back down at the floor, trying desperately to shield his warming cheeks.“Actually,” you pause, and his head snaps back up too quickly. “I think that’s a better idea. If you’re okay with it. I don’t wanna get Robin in any more trouble.”

Robin opens her mouth to respond, but quickly closes it when Steve nudges her side. Eddie speaks again, trying to remain neutral. “Yeah, you can take the bed. I got the couch.” He hates sleeping on the couch, especially when he’s drunk, but he’d rather sleep outside if it meant you could be comfortable.

“Great! Sleepover!” you clap your hands together, wincing at the pain in your hand shooting through you again.

“I think we’ll get going.” Steve says, stepping back toward the door. “Stay safe, okay? Don’t go doing any more stupid shit tonight.”

Eddie stands up to walk the three of them out the door, locking it behind him.

“So.” He says, looking at you from across the dimly lit room.

—

Your POV

“So.” Your heart is pounding, now that you’re alone with Eddie. You’ve had a superbly fantastic evening, followed by an extremely awful night, your buzz is fading, and your body aches from running. Despite it all, you’re more awake and refreshed than you’ve felt since moving to Hawkins.

Eddie strides slowly back to the couch, sitting next to you, but careful to leave a foot of space. This causes you to frown, and you make a scene of scooting closer to him. “I had fun tonight. Y’know, before the whole getting jumped thing.” You joke, leaning your head on his shoulder. Tonight is your night to be as readable as you can be, dropping as many hints that you want to keep spending time with Eddie.

Instead of responding, Eddie moves away from you again, leaving your head to fall onto your own shoulder. “Yeah, right, fun.” He scoffs, avoiding your eyes.

“Oh, come on.” You cup your hand under his chin, forcing him to look at you. “I haven’t had that much fun in, fuck, I don’t even know how long. I know it was bad, but you were fucking incredible.”

“Look who’s talking! You tackled Andy to the ground with two moves! You decked Jason in the face! That was probably the hottest thing—“ He cuts himself off, making his lips a tight line. You smile at him, relishing in the incomplete compliment.

“You’re kinda hot when you’re bloody too, Eds.” You get up before he can respond. “Mind if I use your shower? I don’t feel like sleeping in beer stench.”

“Of course, yeah. Down the hall to your left.” He motions to the back of the trailer. You take a bold step towards him as he stands up. “Do you have a shirt I could borrow?”

His eyes widen, looking into your own, heavy lidded and half closed. “Sure, yeah, I'll grab you one and a towel.” He takes a step back, stumbling over a stray shoe. You giggle, finding his discomfort delightfully charming, and make your way to his bathroom.

—

Eddie’s POV

Oh shit, oh god, oh fuck, Eddie’s brain goes in panicked circles as he hears the shower turn on. You’re in his house. His shower. Naked. You’ll be sleeping in his bed tonight. Granted, he won’t be, but the thought still makes his heart race. He digs desperately through his dresser, trying to find the perfect shirt for you to sleep in.

He chooses his favorite, a huge Metallica shirt with the album art for Ride The Lightning printed on it. It fits Eddie well, so he feels it’ll be the perfect size for you, long enough to cover everything, but short enough to sleep in comfortably. He grabs an old pair of cotton shorts as an afterthought, not wanting to imply that he expects you to walk around without pants on.

He tosses the clothes and the towel he’s grabbed from the small closet in the hall into the bathroom just as the water shuts off. Eddie runs to his room to grab his own shirt and pants to sleep in, then again to the hall closet to grab blankets for the couch.

As he walks back toward the bathroom, you walk out, toweling your dripping hair. You are not wearing his shorts, and the shirt is not as long as he had thought. He takes you in, noticing two tattoos on top of your knees that read “Hot Shot” and “No Kidding,” which he recognizes as two repeated phrases from Catcher In The Rye. When he finishes admiring you, he clears his throat to get your attention.

You smile at him. “Hey. Love this shirt, by the way. You might have to rip it off me if you want it back.” You walk past him to his room, and he fights back the urge to shove you against the wall after that comment.

—

Your POV

There’s no way I’m sleeping in here alone, you think as you throw yourself onto Eddie’s bed, admiring his room. He has posters all over his walls, and over his only mirror hangs the guitar stand his BC Rich must normally sit, empty now because he’d left it at Gareth’s. You sit up, studying his cluttered dresser, covered in band stickers, t-shirts and socks sticking out of the drawers. You turn around, and discover he has handcuffs hung up next to his bed frame. Your eyes widen as your mind wanders away to a very perverted place. You push that thought from your mind, moving your head around again to take in the rest of his room.

You hear the water shut off, and to your disappointment Eddie emerges with all of his clothes on. You silently thank the gods for earlier, for Eddie playing the show in such little clothing to keep your mind occupied.

“Hey.” Eddie greets you as he enters the room, a towel wrapped into a turban on his head. You giggle at the sight, how domestic the whole thing is for someone like him.

He catches you and laughs at himself. “What? I gotta take care of the mane, it’s my best feature!”

He takes the towel off to shake out his damp hair and you watch the whole thing.

“Can I brush it for you?” You say without thinking, but you don’t take it back. The question hangs in the air for seemingly ever, but Eddie eventually nods, walking to the bathroom and coming back with a comb.

You sit on the bed, and he sits in front of you, your legs on either side of him. You comb the ends first, gently detangling his hair with your fingers as you go. “How are you feeling?” You ask, feeling his deep breaths rise and fall as you tend to his head.

“I think I’m alright. I’m worried about you, though.”

“How come?” You can take care of yourself, you always have. Eddie doesn’t know that though.

“I mean, this was kind of a horrible first impression, no?”

You let out a short laugh. “I wouldn’t say that. I still had a lot of fun, if that’s what you’re concerned about. And my hand feels a lot better.” You reach your hand out for him to see, bending and stretching your fingers to show him it’s not broken.

“I’m glad.” He clasps your open hand in his, entwining his calloused fingers with your bruised ones. Your breathing hitches, and you try to hide it with a cough. “But that isn’t it. I never planned to put you in a situation like that. I’m sorry.”

You stop combing Eddie’s hair to look at him, craning your neck to the side so he can see the bewilderment on your face. “You know it’s not your fault, right? You couldn’t have predicted that would happen. You did what you had to do.” You rest your hand on his shoulder, attempting to comfort him when all you really want to do is kiss him.

“I guess. That doesn’t mean I can’t wish it didn’t happen. I’m used to it, but that doesn’t mean you should have to be.”

“What are you implying?”

“You heard them, Y/N,” Eddie raises his voice slightly, startling you. “They hurt you because you were with me. You shouldn’t hang around me anymore.”

Your voice breaks when you respond, “Is that what you want?”

Eddie’s quiet, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes. “Of course not.”

“Good.” You take his face in both of your hands to make him look at you. You can see the tears welling in his big, soft eyes, as clearly as you feel them in your own. “It’s not what I want either.”

“We have a problem then.”

“And what’s that?”

“We’re stuck with each other.”

You smile at him, and his face breaks into the grin you’ve grown to adore. “Now, get some rest, I’ll see you in the morning.” He goes to get off the bed, but you grab him by the wrist and yank him back down.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“The couch?”

“Absolutely not, there could be monsters out there.”

Eddie snorts, and you give him your straightest face. “Okay, sweetheart, I’ll stay. Can’t have you quaking in your boots, can we?” That fucking petname’s gonna be the death of you.

Eddie climbs to the far side of the bed, and you settle against the wall facing him, your head resting in your hand. You feel your eyes get heavy, but you can’t bring yourself to close them, not wanting to stop looking at Eddie; his full lips, his big, doe eyes, the left one now clouded with a fat, swollen bruise. You want to more than anything to kiss him, climb on top of him, rip his stupid Nightmare on Elm Street t shirt off, but you don’t do any of it. The part of you wanting to save your dignity is too strong. Finally, you can’t stop your eyes from closing, letting Eddie’s soft breathing lull you to sleep.

—

Eddie’s POV

He doesn’t sleep much. He’s too busy watching you, and from the looks of it you’re not sleeping well, either. You kicked him awake around three AM, and you’ve been mumbling in your sleep for the last 20 minutes. Your face is scrunched, and you look like you’re in pain. He isn’t sure whether to wake you, or let you go through whatever is happening in your head.

It’s when you let out a blood curdling scream at three forty five that he decides to take action. “Y/N! Wake up, Y/N! I don’t like this! Wake up!” He shakes you by the shoulders, trying to yell over your banshee screech, and you eventually open your eyes, coming to an abrupt halt. The howl is replaced with ragged breaths as you bring a hand to Eddie’s cheek, recognizing the horror painted on his face.

“Oh, shit. I screamed, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, Eddie, I should have warned you. It hasn’t happened in a long time. I didn’t think it would,” You can’t finish your sentence, can’t describe what you just saw, just remembering it causes your breath to catch. You’re embarrassed on top of the fear, worrying you’ve horrified Eddie to the point of never speaking to you again.

Eddie cups a hand around your neck, bringing your head into his shoulder. It’s there that you let loose your sobs, wracking your chest and throat as they fight their way out of your body, like a demon being exercised. Eddie grips you tightly, one hand on your neck while the other wraps tightly around your waist. You shake with cries until you’re too physically exhausted to continue, and when you remove your face from his shoulder you can see you’ve soaked his shirt with your tears and snot. Eddie rubs small circles on your back as you catch your breath, not daring to be the one to start the conversation.

“I’m sorry I woke you up.” You say quietly, wiping the remaining tears from your face. Eddie brings his thumb under your eye to help you, turning your face to look at him.

“I wasn’t really sleeping, love. Don’t worry about me. You wanna watch a movie, smoke a j? You hungry? I make a mean breakfast sandwich.”

You let yourself laugh, and it comes out as a half sob. “Sure, yeah. Thank you.” Eddie pushes himself off the bed, then extends a hand to pull you with him. He tucks you into his arm, walking you to the couch where he lays a blanket over you, stuffing it into the cushion on either side, before meandering to the kitchen, whistling as he pulls the ingredients from the fridge. You busy yourself rolling, forgetting your earlier lie about not knowing how, and take deep breaths as the panic of your nightmare fades.

The two of you munch on your bacon, egg, and cheddar cheese sandwiches as the movie plays, volume almost muted. The two of you pass the joint you’ve rolled back and forth.

“If you ever wanna talk about it-“ Eddie starts,

You wave your hand to silence him. “I will. Someday, I’m sure. Im too tired right now, though.” Eddie nods, completely understanding. You talk as the sun rises, until finally falling asleep in each other’s arms on the floor in front of the television.

chapter IV

tag list: @beebeerockknot @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five | send a message to be added

#st #stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #st4 #angst fic #fluff fic #chapter fic #willow writes sins #dw next part coming VERY soon #to the three ppl actually reading i love u #new kid fic

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freshbakedbreadstick · 10 months

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No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Prologue

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Herimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: After running for so long, it was time to come home

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers and angst. Mentions of death, mental health issues, and toxic relationships. It’s not graphic or detailed in this one but I just want to warn you now that this series will deal with extremely heavy topics as it goes on (similar to the show).

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Hey bestiesssssssssss!!! This is my first ever series and actually first ever written work that I'm posting lol and I'm so excited for it!!! I'm starting off with a series because i had this really good and angsty idea while reading ANOTHER fantastic piece of work and was like “fine…….. I'll do it myself” so i'm here now writing it lmao anyways i'm starting off posting my fanfics with Mikey and Carmy because i've been a little too focused on The Bear lately n love them so much. Chapter one of this series should be coming up this time next week so dw abt waiting so long for an update!! Anyways i hope you all enjoyyyy <3

MASTERLIST

The cool Chicago night air nips at you as it blows by, rolling along the exposed skin of your arms. It was 3 in the morning and the street where The Original Beef of Chicagoland stood was empty and silent.

The building stood before you, quiet and lifeless. It was odd seeing it so silent and it almost seemed… peaceful. But one glance at the rusting sign that seemed to be barely hanging onto the building made the façade of tranquility fall.

The knot in your stomach grew as your eyes traced over the rusted sign and then onto the walls that showed cracks and age. The sidewalk wasn’t any better with uneven cement and haphazard patching. Just then, a piece of trash rolled by the curb, coming from the alley right next to The Beef.

It was just like how you remembered it.

The wear and tear was what originally made you appreciate it. It showed use and love, the same way that laugh lines around a person’s mouth showed you that they lived a life full of smiles and laughter. The walls were in use as hundreds filed in and out of the building for their favorites, every week. The floor was worn away underneath the soles of families, drunk friends, older couples, working folk, and more. The ungentrified building made the whole thing feel nostalgic, despite not being a building you were around as a child. It had felt… familiar in a both comforting and melancholic way.

But now, seeing the building, especially with its marks of age, made your blood run like ice through your veins. It made you shiver, despite it being September in Chicago.

What once was a warm and inviting place felt cold and even scary.

It had been months since you spoke to the Berzattos. Actually, it had been months since you were in Chicago at all. About 8 months, that is. You left in February after… everything and never looked back. The east felt too familiar at that point, so you traveled west.

You chased the highs and avoided the lows, moving from one place to another until you settled in a quiet town where you felt loved. But that love didn’t come without its challenges and when it got hard, you did what you knew best and that was leaving.

So you left with no clue as to where you were going, too proud but mainly too afraid to reach out to the family you had in Chicago. You drove with a car full of junk you couldn't even stand looking at anymore for all the memories of the past couple of months attached to them made your stomach churn. With no place to go, you found yourself, 5 days after leaving and living in your car, sitting on the hood of your 2002 Chevy Impala, stopped and watched the sunset of the west for the last time at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere with your head hurting and eyes puffy. It was then when your phone buzzed.

The cracked screen blinked brightly as you glanced over at it.

‘Please come home, we miss you - Nat’

Your mouth dried as you read the message. Your heart pounded in your ears as your eyes raced over the words over and over and over.

‘Please come home, we miss you’

‘Please come home, we miss-

Another message popped up then, interrupting your reading and making you jump.

‘I promise it’s okay’

Your hands trembled. How Sugar got your number after you changed it twice to avoid your ex from the west was a mystery but it almost felt like divine intervention as you read it under the glow of the cotton candy clouds in the sky.

‘Come home’

So you made the decision to go back.

To go home.

But this decision didn’t mean that you were leaving right away; for two months you practically lived in motel rooms and in your car, pacing back and forth for hours in parking lots, empty hallways, and tiny motel rooms at the thought of facing everyone again. Would they be upset? Angry? Sad? Would they hate you? Welcome you with open arms? Especially after abandoning them the way you did?

Some nights were spent breathing deeply and slowly, desperately trying to get your heart to beat at a reasonable pace and other nights were spent with tears streaming down your cheeks. You almost even decided to just not come home at all; it felt like moving out of the country and assuming a new identity would be easier to deal with than going home.

But you got yourself together and after pawning everything you didn’t mind parting with for cash, you drove with a lighter trunk and a lighter heart across the country and eastward toward Illinois.

Before you knew it, the giant ‘WELCOME TO ILLINOIS, THE LAND OF LINCOLN’ sign had appeared in your vision. It greeted you like an old friend, making your eyes sting and your chest tighten as your car zoomed by it.

Two hours away from Chicago, your stomach would not stop growling so you decided to stop and grab a bite to eat. After settling your car at a nearby park next to an empty bench, you got off and focused a bit too much on grabbing your belongings to notice what your surroundings looked like.

It wasn’t until you had sat down and ripped the bag of food open, when the smell of a salami and mozzarella sub wafted in the air, perking you up and prompting you to smile softly, that you glanced up. Over the dark green shrubs and still water of Peoria Lake were cotton candy clouds, nearly identical to the ones that you had seen while sitting on the hood of your car, terrified and hoping for a sign, any sign, that what you were doing was the right thing.

Five minutes later, your car was back on the highway and speeding towards Chicago.

You stayed over at your parents’ house that night. They were overjoyed to see their child. Your mother cried, holding onto you as your father rubbed your back, comfortingly. Part of you wanted to, so badly, melt into their arms, but another part of you reminded you of the last time you were here. Despite the furniture being different and the decorations being rearranged, your body twitched as it remembered the exact emotions and position you were in when you got the news.

The news that your boyfriend, Michael Berzatto, was found dead.

You couldn’t sleep that night, nor the next, or even the one after that. You got a combined total of about 15 hours of sleep in the past 72 hours, making you look and feel exhausted. But your mind was the only thing that wasn’t exhausted from replaying the memory over and over and over.

About 5 days after you arrived, you got another message from Sugar. This time, a pit formed in your stomach as you read it.

‘Hey, it’s me again! Can you swing by The Beef tomorrow? I'm working there now and would love to see you. I’m sorry this is on such short notice but I've been crazy busy and I heard you were in town. I really want to see you and if you can’t do tomorrow, let me know so we can plan another day.

We really do miss you.’

You rock your jaw and put your phone down on the edge of the twin mattress you sat on, in your childhood bedroom. Right then, your mom gently knocks on your bedroom door before pushing it open.

“Have you talked to Natalie at all yet?” she said softly, clasping her hands together and leaning against the door frame.

You huffed and smiled weakly, of course your mom would mention something to her, that’s how she knew you were here. While your mom respected you doing things on your own time, she also knew that you needed a little push to make that connection.

“Uhm… yea she just texted me. I uh, i might see her tomorrow at The Beef,” you murmured with a shaky breath.

Thank god Sugar ended up being the one to text you instead of you texting her.

Your mom smiled sweetly, “I think you should go, sweetheart. I know it seems scary but… I think it’s time you saw them…”

Nodding, you turn and crawl up to the pillows of your bed. With a sigh, you lay down and close your eyes, exhausted.

From your door frame, your mom quietly watched you and sighs softly. She slowly grabs your door and closes it behind her as she leaves. The hallway light goes off, leaving you and your thoughts alone in the pitch black dark.

And here you were, a couple hours after you read her message, standing across The Beef on a cool Chicago night with the air nipping at your exposed skin as it blows by. You left in such a rush that you forgot to bring a hoodie and didn’t even bother to change from your thin pajama pants and loose old t-shirt. All you did was throw on your shoes and climb out your window, car keys clutched in your sweaty palm, like you used to do in high school to sneak off with Mikey.

But those days seemed so far away now the same way that The Beef seemed so far away. It felt as if the trek across the street actually spanned thousands of miles and not a minute walk.

So you sighed and turned around, walking down the sidewalk and back to your car. Who knew what time it was anymore, but you knew that you really needed to get rest tonight… you had a big day tomorrow.

#the bear #carmern berzatto x reader #michael berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #mikey berzatto #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #carmy the bear #richie the bear #mikey the bear #carmy berzatto imagine #richie berzatto imagine #mikey berzatto imagine #sugar berzatto #natalie berzatto

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creator-savannah · 2 years

Text

Remembered I have a 800 word reaction fic in Google docs that I do not have the motivation to write for so here are somethings I want to include in it but too lazy to actually write

Thames - 40 yr OG!Cale

Kim Rok Soo - KRS during the one year anniversary of soos death

OG!Cale - OG Cale after the plaza incident

TBOAH side: *Trying to convince Kim Rok Soo to come to their universe*

Kim Rok Soo, holding a cup of coffee: Why would I willingly subject myself to torture?

TBOAH: TO SAVE THE WORLD AND MILLIONS OF PEOPLE?!?!

Kim Rok Soo, taking a sip of said cup of coffee: Sounds like a you problem

During the sealed test reaction

Thames: I get that you love your husbands

Thames, pointing at the screen with his hand: BUT WE DID NOT NEED THREE PAGES OF YOU SIMPING!!

Kim Rok Soo, watching Thames pour 12 shots of Expresso, three cans of an energy drink he doesn't recognize, and a shit ton of vodka into a glass and drink it in one gulp:

Thames: *fucking dies*

Kim Rok Soo, who just watched his new chaotic bestie die: *shrugs and goes back to doing paperwork*

TCF and TBOAH: what happened? We heard a—

OG!Cale: why the fuck is future me lying on the floor

Kim Rok Soo, not looking up from his paperwork: the caffeine finally killed him

(he's fine dw, he's got that author's fave armour)

Thames: Actually *insert scientific thing here* and that's how you can make a bomb with limited resources

OG!Cale: but what if we replace *ingredient* with *ingredient* wouldn't that be better

Rosalyn: Yes but it could also *more scientific things*

OG!Rosalyn: It could affect how *ingredient consequences here*

The four genius redheads: *long ass discussion that lasts hours*

TBOAH and TCF, just watching them and everytime someone speaks they look at the person making it seem like they're watching a table tennis match but it's been the same match for hours:

Kim Rok Soo, not understanding a thing they're saying, internally: I studied law not this bullshit

The next day

Kim Rok Soo, who just woke up: *sees Redheads with multiple white boards and blacks boards surrounding a nuke*

Kim Rok Soo, looking at TBOAH and TCF who are just staring at the redheads: How the FUCK did they build a nuke while I was asleep

TBOAH and TCF minus OG!Cale, Thames, Kim Rok Soo, OG!Cage, Cage, fighting:

God Of Death: How dare you question my authority! *Chains them to their seats*

OG!Cale: go fuck off you useless god

GoD: Ok <3

Thames: Where the fuck is the alcohol

GoD: Right here my child <3

Kim Rok Soo, in a bad mood because of a chapter they were reacting to:

GoD: What's wrong, do you need anything? I'll do anything for you my child 🥺🥺🥺

Cage and OG!Cage: *cursing out GoD*

GoD: my children are cursing me out 😭😭😭😭

TCF and TBOAH minus them, all having one thought: favoritism

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hornystiel · 23 days

Text

once again seeing shit on twt and i saw it here multiple times too and i just have to say

the passage that 'you write/draw/make edits for yourself in the first place and it's fun as it is!!! and you shouldn't want attention or gratification!! otherwise you're somehow a bad person!!' - sucks ass

i'll hide the rest but i want to write it all down because it's been bothering me for a while

it may be surprising for many but many published and famous authors also write because of money it brings them? and fame? and recognition? shocker right. yes, not only because of this (tho some do it mostly because of all of the above and that's why many books are shit yes come at me bro tell me i'm no critic etc etc idc) same with artists etc. and it's okay people have no problemo with it, it's actually expected for them to get paid and praised. another example - youtubers. they create shit, they are monetized, they have income etc and yet i think you heard them say at least once 'i'll release the next vid once the previous one reaches ~~~likes and comments'. and again it's nothing really. it's always your choice whether to buy that book, see that film, watch that vid, leave that comment and like. you do it or you don't

in fandom we do everything for free (i'm not talking about commissions) and yet when many creative people ask to simply reblog our stuff for it to be seen because it's how tumblr functions - we're met with the whole ass lecture that we can't Demand anything from people, and that well if you don't get shit then you're not as good because greatness always finds a way, and basically we should be grateful for what we have and shut it. it's like a Scandal every time this topic is brought up. how dare. feels like i'm running here with a gun pointed to their heads and shout at them to reblog my stuff or else. and then those same people and many others are surprised there's lack of content except screencaps and texts we've all seen a hundred times and that people left for other places and fandoms

if i wanted to create only for myself i would've never posted anything here or on any other platform. why should i, i'm only satisfying myself, right. fun! but it so happens that i also want connection with fandom, and yes, boo me, i want attention and maybe even praise sometimes. and that isn't some vile thing to want. we are all humans and we thrive on such things and yes nobody suffered from a good comment or a reblog with excited shouting

and surprise, when i see that my stuff is doing well and people reach out and people are happy or sad or just experience the emotions i wanted from them - i want to make more things quicker and i want to progress and i want to share. double win

nobody owes anybody here. you don't want to engage at all? it's your right i won't hunt you down. really, i will make my stuff regardless, it's just i don't owe anybody here either and i can choose to share only with those who are interested? and way more popular people can do the same? because why spend the energy if people only consume things silently or just glance at it and scroll down and get real defensive about their right to only like stuff on the reblogging site. dw i won't do it i'm too much of an attention whore for it and i'm not afraid to admit it. anyway it's not a ~threat~, i'm simply stating that people who create stuff can do whatever they want with it, they created it for free, 'for themselves in the first place' and you can't get deathly offended when some of them move places, change fandom just because they get what they always wanted from it, remove their stuff or lock the next chapters of a fic for the people they want to see it, especially if you were a silent spectator this whole time

idk i'm not going anywhere really with this i'm just mad how we really are 'content creators' in the eyes of many. only here to throw up our 'content' - art, fics, edits, gifs - for it to be consumed silently in some abyss, reposted, stolen, and be grateful not to be eaten by it

#fandom #thoughts in words #drawing #writing

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campbyler · 1 month

Note

hi guys first of all i wanted to say that i love this fic, it's literally my favorite♡. idk if you have talked about this before (it's hard for me to keep track of everything on tumblr) but i wanted to ask 2 questions.

the first one was if you guys were going to give backstory in the next chapters on why will and mike "hated" each other and what happened in the first summer camp and the rivalry that followed in the next years prior to acswy?

and the second question is related to "in the quiet of the night" series that acswy is part of, i just need a little help understanding the order so i can read it.

that's all!!

hi hi thank you so much for the love! no worries at all, we know our tumblr can be a bit chaotic at times :-) by the end of the 16 chapters (potentially 17 depending on whether we are splitting up ch10 lol) we will be caught up on the full mike and will story!! we do obviously have companion fics planned and everything, but those have always been intended to be more supplemental to the main story — aka, they’ll help embellish the story and fill in some gaps or add an interesting perspective, but everything actually Crucial to the fic that would be weird to leave out will be addressed by the time it’s over (dw btw we have not forgotten about fearless lore!)

as for the series, we’re posting fics in chronological order along the acswy timeline, so that if someone wanted to read the universe start to finish, they could! i think it would definitely be helpful to know a little bit about acswy/to have read a chapter or two first for sure, just bc we’re not trying to give exposition with every companion fic as that would get horribly repetitive, but we’re also trying to write them so that they’ll be hopefully still be interesting as a first introduction to the universe for a reader! so basically i would recommend a chapter or two of acswy or at least knowing the Premise, then you can feel free to just go down the list and read them in order. we also plan on specifying in the notes where in the timeline each fic takes place, just to help with any confusion. hope this clears things up, and happy reading!! :^)

#asks

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aquaquadrant · 5 months

Note

Hi there. I’m going insane and it’s your fault. Like I discovered your absolute emotional masterpiece of a fanfic the other day and it’s all I think about anymore I’m so obsessed; I downloaded tumblr bc of you and I don’t really know how this site works but I do know how to click the ask button so that’s your problem now. I got words for you

First off: HOLy the writing and the voices are so good??? Like the characters say things the way their irl counterparts would say it? How?? Teach me your ways? Actually tho what did you do to learn to do that, is it innate, do you practice?

Second: “He wouldn’t have known the sight of Tango’s pale skin flushing bright red all the way down his chest.” That sentence just kinda stuck out to me from the last chapter… for some reason... anyways (idk what my point is here but it sure has got me thinking thoughts :P )

Third: I said I was obsessed, and I think it was an understatement. I didn’t study for my chem final because of this (still got an A tho so dw) and I went to bed for three days straight thinking about it and I woke up every morning thinking about it. (It took a solid hour to snap myself out of it when I actually needed to get work done lol) And on the plane ride home for break I drew some things so I’ll just leave these here if you don’t mind (umm ignore the tango faces on the first page and his left hand on the second, there's something Wrong™ about them I gotta practice, ok?)

idk if the formatting is good or whatever but here they are

As you can see I love love love the scene after the nightmare. If I remember correctly, Tango started wearing the gloves to protect his claws so they could heal after he escaped, and then when Jimmy gets hurt he just instinctively gives them to him?? Hello, the symbolism??? Tango just surrenders his own protection, both physically, because he would rather protect Jimmy, but also emotionally bc it immediately reveals what he considers a flaw in himself, monstrous, hideous. And Jimmy sees him throw the walls up again, “He quickly shoves the gloves at Jimmy, moving to get up. “I’ll uh, I’ll get another pair tomorrow-”” but Jimmy won’t let him, instead looks at what could be considered Tango’s entire soul —his trauma, his Hels origin, the feral, blaze side of him, the side that lies and hides and lashes out at any who get too close, the “ugliest” parts of him —and loves him despite it? Even sees the beauty in him? Yea, no, I’m normal about that—

Anyways idk how long these things are supposed to be but I have a couple more thoughts so you’re still stuck with me. Ummm let’s see… I adore your impulse design. So I’m taking that, thanks. (If that’s ok) also was thinking about how Jimmy would wear shirts with the wings getting in the way (see bottom of 2nd pic), and then thought maybe that’s why he’s so good at embroidery or sewing in general, cuz he has to make custom clothes. And then I thought what if he made some *cough* outfits and had Tango judge them… or asked for help putting on/taking off a particularly difficult shirt... haven’t had time to draw that yet but ya know… one day. Aaaaand the blaze rods could theoretically make a pretty cool fire crown when Tango's angry, also blazes do damage when you touch them, but I don't think you get set on fire? So it must be the blaze rods themselves doing damage, so I imagine when Tango's fighting they swirl around him both to attack whoever gets too close and to block any incoming projectiles (see middle left of 1st pic). +gradients on the blaze rods :]

Last thing, I showed my sister the fic last night and she’s already read through it twice so you’ve infected two of us. We were theorizing on what’ll happen next chapter. We both think that the others will piece together, to some extent, Tango’s backstory before they figure out how to remove the collar, what with the cuffs he wears, the comments Atlas made about a farm, Atlas’s mentioning about using Jimmy that way for his feathers, etc etc. and the comment that Tango can hear everything? Yea, no, when that collar comes off he’s gonna be distraught, I’m wagering that everything immediately bursts into flames around him or something (cuz that’d be cool). I think he'll probably try to run away, too, but we'll see

Anyways, that’s not all my thoughts but this is getting pretty long, so maybe I’ll send another ask later if that’s alright. Have a good day! Post again soon! Please. Please I'm begging you. For my sanity plea-

(actually tho take ur time. quality is worth it, and this is nothing but quality)

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! omg welcome. this was genuinely SUCH a lovely ask to read, but i wanna take the time to properly answer it so i’m gonna continue under the cut cause boy can i ramble

first off: HELLO, you got a tumblr bc of HTP?? incredible. i’m honored that this gay angsty little block man au was your introduction to the hellsite (affectionate). and don’t worry, i welcome asks no matter the length (tho i might not get to everything in a timely manner)

second of all: i’m SO happy you enjoyed my character voices. that’s definitely something that’s taken a bit of practice, especially for more understated characters that don’t have super obvious or unique vocal traits/vernaculars. i find it helpful to a) have spent a decent amount of time watching the source material and b) always go over my dialogue with the character’s voice in my mind, and see if it sounds like something they’d actually say. ofc, sometimes liberties can be taken based on the plot/setting of a fic but generally i spend a lot of time and effort on getting character voices right, so i appreciate the appreciation <3

thirdly: i like that particular sentence too ;0

fourth: THAT ART THO??? oh man. impulse looks amazing (i’ve always loved demon!impulse and gotta credit @lunarcrown for bringing that vision to life 💃) and the wings are SO well done, like you conveyed that leathery thin bat skin texture perfectly. the various tangos are SICK, i luuuuv seeing him in full blaze rage mode, using those blaze rods to their full effect. and those hands… goddamn. not only do i respect the hand anatomy but the ROSES… the shackles and their metallic texture… the gradient on tango’s claws… chef’s kiss 💋👌 and THANK YOUUU the post-nightmare scene was one of my favorites from that chapter, and you’ve summed it up beautifully.

moving on: as with all of lunar’s designs, she’s happy to inspire so BEHOLD, DEMON IMPULSE UPON YE (that’s a yes from both of us LOL) i love ur idea about jimmy making custom shirts to work around his wings, that’s one of those little details i never put much thought into but it fits so nicely with him being into embroidery. so jimmy def makes a lot of his own clothes (and occasionally some for tango), co-signed and approved. and ur on the right track about tango’s blaze rods- most of his defensive fire comes directly from them, doing that crazy swirly fireball thing that actual blaze do, but he does also have the ability to produce fire from his hands, he just doesn’t do it often. it takes a bit more concentration and practice, and he spent so long trying not to use his abilities that it doesn’t come second nature to him anymore. he was way more of a fire starter as a kid in hels.

last but not least: AWW it’s so sweet u got ur sister into the au (lord knows i’ve dragged mine into many a fandom 😂) glad y’all enjoyed it so much, AND now u have someone to theorize with 👀 i won’t say anything more on the matter other than i hope to get the next chapter out over the next couple weeks, so stay tuned…

#hels to pay au #HTP ask #HTP gift art #seriously thanks so much for sending this in i loved reading it

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ackermanbitch · 1 year

Text

Teenage Dirtbag (Peter Parker x Fem!Reader) Part 6.5?

a/n: so this is honestly just filler (which is why it's so SHORT) before the part of the fic that takes place during the beginning of homecoming. i dont see the point in writing for the rest of civil war when realistically this is as far as reader would be involved. also not using (y/n) bc i dont like it anymore :D

warnings: arguing?? but it's kind of funny, reader being very much tony's daughter and repressing very real and important emotions

pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5

word count: 730 (augh its so short im sorry, next chapter will be the normal length dw )

"Ross wants you in juvie, and honestly, I can't totally blame him! You were assisting war criminals. War. Criminals."

The teen groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose and trying to lean as far away from the boy sitting next to her, wondering why the hell he chose to sit right there when there was an entire private plane for him to roam. "Why didn't you have this conversation with me before I left?" She whispered angrily, adjusting the phone in her hand to speak directly into the microphone.

Regardless of where Peter sat, he would've heard Tony's yapping through the phone in response to being interrupted during a lecture.

"Oh I'm sorry my scolding doesn't line up with your schedule young lady, but this is the only time I could fit in to talk to you, what between all the meetings I'm having in an attempt to keep you out of jail!"

"Can't you, I don't know- tell them I happened to be going for a-... a nice stroll? Walked into the crossfire by mis-" She stumbled over her words, eyes darting to Peter who snorted at her idea before she even finished. He quickly cleared his throat, head turning away so quickly she thought he might've pulled something.

Tony brought his palm up to his forehead, some measly attempt to soothe his growing migraine, "This is not a joke, we're talking about you potentially doing prison time-"

"I've hardly done anything deserving a real charge Dad, they just think I'm going to do something and I obviously won't, seeing as my team of 'war criminals' are in fucking Alcatraz-"

"One, you need to watch your damn language and two, you think I don't know that? Of course I think these allegations are a load of bullshit, it doesn't make it any easier to shut them down." Tony sighed, checking the time on his phone before bringing it back to his ear. "Listen, I have to go, call me when you land and don't let Happy fall asleep. Can't have you two teenagers unsupervised on my private plane."

She glanced at Happy's snoring figure on the other side of the jet, "Yeah, sure, he's wide awake. Love you, bye." She deadpanned, hanging up before Tony could finish reciprocating the sentiment.

She may have forced a mask of indifference, even carelessness, when faced with the consequences but behind all that, her brain felt like a fucking circus. A circus with multiple tornado sirens going off, fires and mass hysteria. Oh, and every clown wore her face. Her stupid, 'rebel against dad' at any chance, war criminal assisting face. She'd rather end up in prison than have to face her dad again. What if he never forgives her for this, what if he never moves on, what if this isn't like every other time she's done something stupid, this could change the course of her li-

"You're not.. actually gonna go to jail, right?" Peter interrupted her raging thoughts, giving her quite the worried stare.

She sighed, fiddling with her phone, "No, he would never let that happen. Not with his troupe of lawyers. I'll get let off with a 'hefty warning'," She emphasized with air quotes, "AKA forty torturous minutes of Cap telling me how I need to make better choices. Though he's stuck in the clink right now so I don't know."

She tried to hide the slight shake to her voice, how it sounded more like she was convincing herself rather than explaining it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Don't tell Mr. Stark I said this but uh- Y'know, he's Captain America, he'll probably break out of there in no time."

She slowly turned her head to look at him, slowly letting a smile break out across her face. "Yeah, maybe. He's pretty crazy. Suuuch a rebellious guy, very anti-government."

Peter shrugged with a hopeful smile, "I don't know, this whole thing started over him not wanting to sign a peace treaty, that seems extremely anti-government."

"I guess you're right Parker, as always." She grinned, ignoring his flushed cheeks at her compliment and letting her eyes drift to Happy.

"You got a marker?"

taglist: @preciousbabypeter @lily-sinclair-2006 @b-barnes04 @ink-stained-eyes

#peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #marvel x reader #tony stark x daughter reader #tony stark

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mightbeorphanedidk · 26 days

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Now, normally, I wouldn't show you guys photos taken from my phone of my laptop cus thee quality turns out bad but..

JESUS. FUCKING. CHRIST.

This is the last chapter of "I trusted you with such a small yet big thing (and look where that got me)" and OH MY GOD. DAMN. I wasn't expecting THIS much. Like I knew it would be a lot, but not 10-FUCKING-THOUSAND.

AND THIS IS UNEDITED. I STILL HAVE TO EDIT. DAMN. I'M SCARED OF MYSELF.

It's not that it's 10k words. I started writing this LAST NIGHT. It's been 23 hours since I started. I've been writing for like, 10 hours AT LEAST.

Completely ignored my draft for the ending, did a compete 180⁰ turn and said YOLO. I'm happy with how it turned out, though.

Edit: ok so I split it into two chapters yayy thanks puniyo for recommending me to do that <3 Edited the two chapters and now, combined, it's actually 10k, not rounded or anything.

I'm really tired but the writing grind never stops 💪

Jk I'm going to take a break for like an hour or two, maybe have a nap, and start working on the angel AU, and then the torture fic. Im pacing myself, though, guys dw. We now have a deadline, too. I want to get these chapters out by the time I get back, so i have 24 days. Might as well get those Christmas advent calenders.

Tw math up ahead

So, let's put this discussion in a theoretical sense. I have 24 days, which is 24² hours (576 hours). If I write at the rate of roughly 1000 words per hour, and that too if I'm focused without distraction, I can write 576x10³ words. But i need to sleep, eat, and go to school.

Hours in a day avaliable = 24-6-6-2 = 10 hours

10 hours × 24 = Total amount of time available = 240

240×10³ = Total amount of words I can write

If I maximise my time and spend it on NOTHING ELSE other than writing, I can write a novel worth like, one fifth of the Bible. Cool. Sorry guys I needed to do a little math to escape from too much literature.

BUT, guess which bitch has an art and geo assignment, and a science test next week 😝 (its me. I'm that bitch.) So we're gonna be a bit more busy.

God I love stress

No i dont

CISJJCDJDJFJEKDKGKEKRIFJFJREJ

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #ao3 stuff #archive of our own #fanfiction #chapter updates #hazbin lucifer #angst

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judjira · 3 months

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hullo dw im alive and im working on like,,,4 other things

right now s'agapo (god au) has taken possession of me, and so has a wip im co-writing w a friend (its gonna be so good guys i swear) and im FINALLY conceptualizing the next out of bounds chapter so hopefully it will possess me soon

a few other things im working on:

heartbreak playlist (my first le sserafim fic ! its going to be sad haha but then whats new)

a cowboy au (there is death here you have been warned)

a backstage theater crew itzy au (bc as crew myself i like projecting)

a mina/everyone au (bc mina is quickly becoming a second favorite of mine)

a saidahmo college au (first chapter is actually done ! im just sitting on it a bit)

so yeah !!! hopefully i make do on my promises to do all of those things hehe

#srsly guys #i am in the mood to write #but now im just getting bothered by work

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naomi-nana · 1 year

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atsushi nakajima x fem!reader < series > DISCONTINUED.

'' this world is like a big canvas to me. ,,

IN WHICH, atsushi nakajima is met with a girl who is passionate about paintings.

characters: 《 tba 》

genres: angst, mentions of death, blood, abandonment, abuse(i ain't romanticizing it dw)

a/n: my first series!! i've been reading too much fanfics and completely forgot that i have a writing blog:"< and not a famous one at that LMFAO but anyw, this series features our favorite tiger boy, atsushi! :>

where are we going next?

> nav

> masterlist

CHAPTER PROLOGUE : full moon

tw ; angst, mentions of abandonment. please do not continue reading if you can't handle the things i mentioned.

monday, march 13th 2023

CHAPTER 001 : the past is no more!

tw ; attempted su1cide[dazai], atsushi getting kicked outside of the orphanage, attempted robbery[atsushi], ACTUAL robbery(using other people's money without permission[dazai]). please do not continue reading if you can't handle the things I mentioned above.

tuesday, march 14th 2023

OTHER CHAPTERS : tba

#fiction #nao.writes #bsd x reader #anime #bsd angst #bungou stray dogs #atsushi bsd #atsushi x y/n #atsushi x you #atsushi nakajima #atsushi x reader #bungou stray dogs atsushi

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aubreysheadspace · 1 year

Note

Hi hi can I present to you fluff? Since I don't have any angst ideas for today;;;

So, basically: the omori cast (mainly focuses on Mari) with a reader who's the same age as Sunny, and also a secret popular writer on the internet!!! (Platonic as usual, please!)

So uh. Imagine Mari is on her summer break! She was about to practice and study for the next year but... she discovers Ao3, got curious and clicked on it! She chose the most kudos fic in her fandom, but she was bored so she invited others to read with her, including the reader! After reading, all of them were impressed by the quality. The moment Mari complimented the fic and how good the writer is, the reader gets flattered and just reveals they're the mastermind behind the story! How did Mari react? And I don't mind if you also wrote the others and what does everyone think about the reader before the Ao3 thing..

Sorry if this wall of text scares you,, just tell me directly you will not do this resquest if you don't want to, that's fine ^^!

MAIN CAST (MOSTLY MARI) with a reader who’s secretly a who’s secretly a popular writer on AO3 (PLATONIC)

DW ABT THE WALL OF TEXT!! Idm it one bit, i always enjoy your scenarios!! hope you enjoy this <333!!!!!~

so! HERO, KEL, AUBREY, BASIL, and YOU planned on spending most of the time in MARI and SUNNY’s house

they wouldn’t show up until later though, so now MARI and SUNNY were simply waiting. SUNNY was in the living room, reading his old baby books for nostalgia.

great! so the cookies are done! …what now other than to just wait?

hm, well, MARI was in her room surfing the internet on the old computer. then goes on her AO3 account and smiles to herself

"Hm! Maybe I should search up my name on here? There’s gotta be something I can read for the time being!~"

then, MARI searches up her name on AO3, curious to see any fanfics that were worth reading

she checks out the one with the most kudos and then starts to read it

she was.. astonished!

she was taken aback! now she understands why this got so many kudos in the first place!

she hasn’t even realize time had passed when she finishes reading it.

so, when you guys finally come over, MARI immediately rushes all of you into her room and to the computer

"Is everything alright, MARI?" HERO had asked, it was a bit surprising to see MARI so quick to show something.

"I’m fine, I’m fine. You guys should see this fan-fiction I saw just now! It’s so good, trust me!~" MARI replied with an excited tone in her voice. She goes to the first chapter of the story and everyone began to read it.

hang on a second…

you know this fanfic..

you MADE this fanfic!

oh boy, this is gonna be fun.

as soon as you figured out that this was your fanfic, you were genuinely flattered

you were even more flattered when everyone else started to read and complimented it

"Woah.. this is.. really amazing! The text.. the dialogue, the plot.. is actually really good!" HERO complimented as he continues to read the fourth chapter.

"Wow! This person is really good at writing! They could be an amazing writer in the future!!~" AUBREY said in a happy tone of her voice, her eyes sparkling. SUNNY nods in agreement, his eyes widened a bit as he reads.. Wow…

"I don’t usually read, only when I have to at school.. but I would read this all the time if it were a book!" KEL spoke, donning his usual toothy grin. HERO chirps in and goes, "KEL.. you’d forget about it in.. in about 3 days.."

"Oh wow.. this person writes really good.." BASIL complimented as he reads. He then asks, "Gosh, I wonder who made it.. they write so perfectly..!"

MARI nods in agreement, giggling as she did so. "I’d like to meet them one day! See if I could get a writing tip or two!"

Well.. funny enough. You suddenly spoke, "Hey.. I wrote this!"

…

HELLO?

MARI immediately looks back at you with a surprised look on her face. everyone else does the same.

once she asks and you confirm it, she gets all excited.

"[READER], I didn’t know you had excellent writing skills!!~" MARI teased you a bit, you laugh sheepishly. "You’ve been keeping this secret talent of yours hidden from us?~"

oh, MARI wasn’t kidding. she wanted a writing tip or two, maybe three or four, from you! she automatically calls herself your number one fan on AO3!

HERO congrats you for making a successful fanfic like this. he is a bit surprised since he never pegged you as the writer type but hey, he’s not judging at all!

SUNNY sometimes goes on the computer and looks back at some of your works. he is a bit jealous of your skills but he doesn’t hold anything against you at all. he just thinks your fanfic’s are really talented, you even earned a "wow…" from him!

AUBREY and BASIL would always like to see if you’re writing anything new. AUBREY would always ask if you could add some dialogue that she came up with herself! BASIL doesn’t mind if you do the same for him, but he does get happy, he just likes reading your work!

and KEL is.. KEL. he’d definitely come up to you in school and ask you to help him with his writing assignment. and by helping him, i mean doing the work just for him. don’t worry, he’ll treat you something just after you finish it! he does like your writing skills after all!

#omori x reader #aubreysheadspace!~#aubreys writing!~#omori basil x reader #omori #omori mari x reader #omori kel x reader #omori hero x reader #omori aubrey x reader #omori sunny x reader #omori basil #omori sunny #omori hero #omori kel #omori mari #omori aubrey

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a-student-out-of-time · 1 year

Note

Though i am a proponent of the swap theory, at least at this moment, i would like to point out an anternative theory for the prosopagnosia speech.

Firstly, the prosopagnoisa will become relevant in a much later chapter

and secondly, Teruko is Mai Akasaki, or at least in her body. Which is a theory i’ve seen floated around before.

also, unrelated. in looking up Mai’s name to make sure i was spelling it correctly, i noticed some (flavor text? the page descrpitions? idk what they’re called, the text under the individual results in google) that heavily seems to agree with your stance of trust is good, actually.

“It is an equal failing to trust everybody, and to trust no one at all.”

//First of all, thank you for your time and for providing a legit counter-argument. I really enjoy talking about this stuff ^^

//While I agree on the latter point, here's why I don't agree with this theory or that this is setup for later. I'm gonna take a break from theorizing and discuss writing, a subject near and dear to my heart.

//A concept that anyone who wants to tell a mystery is encouraged to learn about is narrative weight, which I've seen defined as "how much or how little attention the story/the narrator is giving to any particular event, situation, setting or emotion."

//Simply put, the more attention something is given in a story, the more important it's going to be. Some examples:

If something is given direct attention for a long-enough period of time, it's a plot point.

If something is given attention for long enough that we remember it, and then it comes back later, it's Chekhov's Gun

If somethings is given attention and then turns out not to be true in the way we were expecting, it's a Red Herring

If something is given attention and changes details that we initially believed about something previously established, it's a retcon

If something is given attention and never receives follow up, it's a forgotten or abandoned story beat

//Narrative weight should, in principle, be proportional to the role something is going to play in a particular story, though not always. Sometimes it's inversely proportional, where something will be given just enough attention that you may remember it, but it seems to slip by in favor of the more obvious examples. Then it turns out to be the key all along.

//That brings me to another concept: breadcrumb storytelling. This is the sort of narrative where you receive pieces of information that lead into one-another, and it's an effective means of keeping someone hooked to learn the answer.

//This is pretty common with serialized stories today, where you have one story leading into another and into another. Some writers specialize in this concept, such as Stephen Moffat, who became both famous and infamous for it on his run of Doctor Who and with Sherlock.

//The problem with breadcrumb storytelling is that it runs the risk of ultimately proving disappointing, and potentially undermining or even ruining the impact of the story in retrospect. I'm sure we've all had that happen, where we were waiting for a big reveal and the landing is badly botched.

//I bring all this up because it disappoints me how the idea of a done-in-one, where things like an episode of a show or a single issue of a comic can tell their own story with the time they're given, has largely fallen out of fashion. Now, people seem to expect there to be some kind of cliffhanger ending or setup for what comes next.

//Yes, one can argue that's necessary for serialized stories, but you can have your cake and eat it too. Small details can serve the main plot of the smaller story and contribute to the larger narrative at the same time. For another DW example, the Bad Wolf and Harold Saxon arcs were there across multiple episodes, but they never actively took time away from the story; they instead came together in the finale episodes.

//All that having been said, I like what Despair Time is doing. Chapter 1 did feel like a done-in-one, where it told a complete story and gave Teruko an arc, and also provided setup for the rest of the story. It really set her apart from other DR and fangan protags for it, and helped to establish the themes of the story, that this is about trust and betrayal.

//That brings me to Mai Akasaki, the mysterious redhead girl. Now, I can completely understand why people would be theorizing about her and what role she plays, and would suggest the prosopagnosia has something to do with it. I'm not going to say that's wrong, because there are so many directions it could go.

//That being said, there's a difference in terms of narrative weight here, and this isn't a case of things being inversely proportional. The reason why I don't think she plays a role in this chapter is because everything we know about Mai, we know from supplementary materials.

//Outside of the ARG on DT's tumblr or the bonus videos on their channel, the only thing we've seen of Mai was a brief flashback after Teruko was stabbed, and a hint that Teruko knew her. Her name hasn't even been said once in the main story yet.

//The secrets motive was definitely an opportunity for them to suggest that someone in the group isn't who they said they were, or was disguised and nobody remembers them, but we haven't gotten any like that, at least compared to the more plausible answers we've received.

//For comparison, Danganronpa Another had a better means of foreshadowing a hidden character. In Chapter 2, they found a yearbook in a locker, which belonged to Hanzo Kisaragi. That not only set up the later appearance of his son, Yamato, but also served to foreshadow early on that they weren't really in Hope's Peak Academy like they believed.

//By comparison, there's still been no hinting toward Mai as of yet. No indication that she's part of the game or that she's here disguised as anybody else, at least not so far. I also find it fairly unlikely that Teruko is actually Mai, because not only does her bad luck plague her in daily life, but we've gotten glimpses of how scarred and injured Teruko's body really is. To me, nothing about it suggests she's not who she says she is.

//I know there's the easy answer that she had her memories and identity erased, but we haven't established a means for that to be possible in this setting. I know I've made that connection in my own AU, but that's for a story I'm telling. DT hasn't confirmed that they have flashback lights, so I can't in good faith say that's a real possibility just yet.

//Here's where the prosopagnosia's narrative weight comes in. See, it did receive some hinting in Chapter 1, but it was small and done as just kind of a funny moment near the beginning, where Teruko couldn't remember who Charles was until Hu pointed out what he looked like.

//In comparison, Chapter 2 involved Teruko having a whole conversation with Veronika about how she thought the protag looked a lot like Teruko, Teruko was confused, and we learned that she really only differentiates people by hair color, eye color and clothes. Veronika then took the opportunity to ask, if she switched all those, would Teruko recognize her? And we got no confirmation as to whether or not she would.

//The reason I'm so insistent about this point is because not only have we not had any follow-up on that yet, but because the only people who investigated the body are the girl who can't recognize faces and the guy who had reasons to half-ass the investigation. And Rose, the only one who could put the issue to bed, didn't even want to see the body.

//There has been very little attention given to Mai so far, but comparatively a lot given to the fact that Teruko cannot differentiate faces. Too much narrative weight for me to feel like this isn't going to play a role in this chapter in particular, the same way the difference between a CD and DVD did last chapter.

//tl;dr version- I think some kind of switch had to take place this chapter and to involve the people here, because I can't see this being about someone who's had no foreshadowing or hinting toward their identity or their presence in the main story as of yet.

//That's just my stance on things as of now, but thank you for offering another possibility. I don't doubt that her prosopagnosia is going to play a major role in things later on, so ultimately, both theories might end up being right : P

#mod talks #mod rambles #a student out of time #danganronpa despair time

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