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bubble-tea-bunny · 5 years

Text

an exercise in teamwork

[freddy freeman x reader]

author’s note: painted my nails a cute spring shade and i am v happy

word count: 2,882

Ever since you and Freddy had agreed to split the price of the new video game coming out at the end of the month, you have seen its name popping up everywhere—a commercial on television, plastered upon billboards you spot in passing down the freeway, the front page article with the biggest coverage on gaming news sites. This release was going to be huge. Of course the two of you had to get your hands on what many are beginning to argue may be game of the year.

People talk about it at school, in the hallways between periods. In the chaos of those five minutes, you catch snippets of conversations, finding out who’s already pre-ordered, who is going to, who’s going to be there for midnight release, and so on and so forth. At this point, from how much you’ve heard, half the student body must be buying this game.

Freddy laughs when you say that. He says you’re exaggerating and you don’t correct him because maybe you are, maybe you haven’t actually heard as many people talking about it as you think you have. And he tells you about a phenomenon called the Baader-Meinhof effect: It’s a frequency illusion. When you become aware of something, you start to notice it all over the place.

Huh, so that’s what that is! You’ve always wondered, and Freddy’s finally given it a name. You consider it for a moment, all the other times in your life you’ve experienced it, and you turn to him and say Wow, you’re so smart and he playfully tells you to shut up because he thinks you’re teasing and he’s embarrassed but you’re not teasing. He’s smart and he knows a lot of things and that’s only one reason you’re glad he is your best friend. You learn a little bit more from him each day.

Neither of you looks forward to the school lunches. Well, no one does. They certainly leave a lot to be desired but you eat it because you know you’ll regret it when you get hungry in a couple of hours and you’re still stuck in class. Today, however, Freddy is unable to get himself to follow your lead. He steps out of line to search for a table, and once you take the chair next to him and ask if he’s just going to buy chips from the vending machine, he shakes his head. He’d been running late this morning and failed to grab his wallet on his way out the door.

“But I’ll live,” he promises you, grinning lopsidedly.

You smile back but it’s not a satisfactory assurance. You’re about to offer to lend him a dollar, but you remember you’d spent it this morning when you bought a can of soda at the convenience store around the corner. So you begin scanning the other students in the cafeteria, and Freddy’s brows furrow and he asks what you’re doing, but you don’t answer.

“Be back in a sec,” you declare suddenly, standing up and rounding the table. Freddy watches, still thoroughly confused, as you walk across the room.

Delilah is at a corner table with who you assume to be her partner for the project in history, for they sit side-by-side with the rubric and a piece of paper scrawled in what you assume to be their ideas for how to tackle the assignment. She spots you before you speak up to announce your presence, and you smile widely when she does.

Freddy can’t read your lips from this far away, but he can see your smile clearly. It remains on your face for the duration of your conversation with Delilah, who reaches into her backpack. Her body blocks whatever she digs through it for, but then she’s produced a dollar bill that she holds out to you. If it were even possible, your grin widens even more, and with the dollar now in your grasp, you return to the table.

“Now you can get your chips.” You sound quite smug as you hand it off to him, plopping down in the hard chair (these cafeteria seats suck).

“What’d you say to her?” Freddy inquires, taking the dollar.

“That I’d pay her back tomorrow.” You shrug. “She trusts me.”

Freddy chuckles and shakes his head at your antics, but this is nothing new. In the time he’s known you he has found out just how easily you can get your way with that smile. You’ve gotten deadline extensions, an extra chocolate chip cookie from the lunch lady (it’s the only cafeteria food that’s actually good), and by now, he swears you could ask someone to do a backflip and they’d do it. It’s almost like your own superpower.

As he feeds the dollar into the vending machine and presses the buttons for the chips he wants, he’s thanking you silently in the back of his head (and Delilah too, to some extent). Once he has his snack, he turns back around, and you still wear the ghost of a grin as you watch him, like you heard him anyway.

One week before the game is set to be released, an announcement goes out that there will be a collectible handed out on a first-come, first-serve basis. Upon discovering this last piece of information, you and Freddy deflate. The line will be long at midnight, and the likelihood of their being anymore remaining figurines by three o’clock in the afternoon that Friday are incredibly low. Standing in line with everyone else, waiting for 12 AM to hit, is out of the question. You wouldn’t be allowed to go so late, and on a school night to boot.

“Hey, Anthony is working that night, isn’t he?”

Freddy nods and glances over at you where you sit on his bed, homework spread out on the sheets. “Yeah, he should be. Why?”

“I’m sure I could convince him to keep one for us.”

While Freddy is aware of the power of persuasion your grins hold, this is a case where he is very skeptical that it would be effective. Anthony hardly seems like a person who could be swayed. “A pretty smile can’t get you everything.” And though he is the one saying it, a part of him almost doesn’t believe that statement. Perhaps he’s wrong about Anthony (it’d be nice if he was and Anthony was indeed willing to hold onto an extra figurine).

But this remark is no blow to your confidence. Instead, you flash that aforementioned pretty smile in his direction. “We’ll see about that, Freeman.” Then you proceed to dive into your first assignment of the evening, flipping through a hard cover textbook with glossy pages and that took up almost half the space in your backpack.

Freddy laughs and, at least for now, concedes, murmuring Okay, [Name] and returning his attention to the computer.

On Thursday, you go straight to the game store after class. The bell atop the door jingles quietly and Anthony twists around. He lifts a hand to give a wave when he notices both of you walking farther in, towards where he is by the register.

“Oh, hey, guys,” he greets.

There are multiple boxes stacked on the table behind the register which no doubt hold multiple copies of the new game. Freddy’s almost inclined to ask for a peek, for the anticipation is nearly unbearable this close to release. He thinks if sees the cover art in person, even for just a second, he’d last until tomorrow. But he doesn't get the chance to bring this up, for you start speaking, and it reminds him to stay on track.

“Hey, Anthony,” you respond brightly, walking up to the counter and resting your arms on it. “So listen… you’re handing out those figurines tonight right?”

Anthony nods. “Yeah…” His eyes narrow and his brows furrow, signs that the cogs in his head are starting to spin, trying to figure out what you’re going to say next. You’re already continuing before he’s able to do so.

“Well we can’t pick up the game until tomorrow, and I was wondering if you could maybe hold onto one for us?”

At hearing this, Anthony sighs and shakes his head. “You know I can’t do that. It’s first-come, first-serve.”

“Pretty please?” You lay it on thick, smiling your familiar smile and you give the Cheshire cat a run for its money. Freddy’s gaze briefly slides from Anthony to you and if he had anything to say about it, if you aimed that smile at him, he’s not entirely sure he’d be able to refuse.

Anthony doesn’t reply right away, and there’s a moment where Freddy thinks you have managed to get your way. And if that is what’s happening right now, he doesn’t even care that he’s been proven wrong. You’d probably gloat, telling him in a sing-song tone I told you so, and he’d be a good sport and accept it and he’d promise not to underestimate you again.

Unfortunately, it appears as though there are still those out in the world who are impervious to your charm, for Anthony shakes his head again. (Freddy notices that he does look considerably more apologetic as he does, which means your grin had had some effect, at least.) “Sorry, [Name].”

Your smile drops, replaced by a slight frown, and your shoulders slouch—a picture of defeat. It occurs to Freddy he’s never seen you legitimately bummed about anything. Whether your dejection comes from the fact this means there will be no collectible figurine to be had, or from the fact your honey-dipped grin hadn’t worked, he’s not certain. Suddenly he hates that he had been right about the limitations of what he had always coined as your little superpower.

But he’s not going to let you flounder, disoriented in the face of loss. He’s your friend, your best friend, and what kind of friend would he be if he did that? So he wracks his brain—Think, Freddy, think!—for anything he could say to come to your aid.

“I’ll give you my lunch money for the next few weeks,” he proposes.

Anthony’s nose scrunches up like he’s smelled something bad. “I’m not taking your lunch money, Freeman. That makes me sound like a bully.”

It’s quiet again for a few seconds, and Freddy’s scrambling to come up with something else. Money was supposed to work! If Anthony didn’t want that, what else could there be to bribe him with? In the midst of his flurried thoughts he catches the small grin you aim his way from over your shoulder, appreciative of his attempts to assist you, and it’s the eye of the storm. And then you’ve turned back around, and your mouth opens and he knows you’re going to concede and tell Anthony it’s fine but before you can do that, Freddy beats you to the punch.

“I can get you a date with Mary.”

This stops you short, and your mouth closes and you look at him again, but this time your eyes are widened a fraction in surprise. Anthony’s shock matches yours, and Freddy’s gaze flickers from Anthony over to you briefly, and in that short instance he can tell you’re silently asking what he’s doing.

“You’d do that?” Anthony’s question, voiced with skepticism and complemented by a raised brow, steals back Freddy’s attention.

Freddy shrugs. “Yeah, man.”

Mary had accompanied him to this shop in the past, giving him a ride so he didn’t have to take extra time using public transport. And whenever she’d been here, Anthony had been positively enamored. If one were to point it out, he’d vehemently deny it, but to Freddy, it had been glaringly obvious, almost embarrassingly so. He wonders if Mary noticed it too, and concludes she probably had. From what he can remember, their interactions had been fairly amicable, so perhaps this seemingly insane suggestion isn’t actually that insane.

Anthony braces his hands on the edge of the counter, staring down at both of you and seriously considering the offer. You wait with bated breath for his decision, at the end of your rope now and if this didn’t work, well, nothing would and then, then, it would be time to throw in the towel.

The bell jingles again as a customer enters and it startles you, causing you to flinch slightly, and Freddy catches the jolt in his peripherals. He chuckles at your jumpiness, and the melting away of the tension of the last several seconds prompts Anthony to finally come to a decision.

“Okay,” he states.

Your eyes light up and the smile Freddy likes seeing so much is back on your face. He forces himself to look away before he’s caught staring, and he looks at Anthony and joins you in thanking him profusely, interspersing the string of gratitude with phrases like You’re awesome, dude and You’re the best employee we know. Anthony waves it off and says I’m the only employee you know but he’s grinning a little so you know he’s not annoyed.

Other people are beginning to come into the store, some of them your age, for they had all made their way here as well after school was dismissed, and Anthony moves the conversation along, the bell continuing to chime in the background. “Was that all you guys needed? I got a full shop and still have to take inventory for tonight.”

“Yes, totally.” Freddy nods.

“We’ll get out of your hair now,” you add.

And as the two of you make your leave, in high spirits and practically buzzing with excitement because the day you’d been waiting months for (though it had felt much longer) is just around the bend, Freddy tosses over his shoulder, “See you tomorrow!”

On the walk to the subway station, you ask if Mary would be okay with what Freddy had done. That’s when Freddy realizes he never did recount to you those times she had come to the store with him and how much Anthony had taken a liking to her. He fills you in during the trip to his house, and at the end of it, remarks that he thinks Mary will be just fine.

The next day at 4:19 PM, the two of you are sitting on the floor in Freddy’s bedroom, eyes glued to the screen and fingers flying over the controllers. The sound effects floating out from the speakers is forced to compete with the loud clacking of buttons, and it would be for a while yet, for it’s Friday, and as far as either of you is concerned, this is how your Friday afternoon and evening will be spent.

Between levels, you hit pause to take a few minutes’ break, stretching your backs and clenching and unclenching your hands, for they had begun to strain with how hard you gripped the controllers. The house is steadily filling with noise as the others return, and it reminds Freddy to ask if you’re staying for dinner. You say sure, and he says he thinks he might be able to convince Rosa and Victor to order pizza. It’s the perfect gaming food, after all he reasons.

A breeze wafts in from the open window and it prompts you to take a deep breath, chest expanding and then shrinking with your exhale. The exclusive collectible figurine, a PVC recreation of the game’s main character, sits between you both, next to the sodas you had picked up on the walk here. You lean over to pick it up and hold it out to Freddy.

He knows what you’re implying by doing so and merely shakes his head, gently pushing your hand, and thus the figurine, back in your direction. “No, keep it.”

“But you’re the one who convinced Anthony to get it for us.”

“Hey, you softened him up though,” he shoots back, and then, with a grin, he continues, “It was… a team effort.”

At this comment, you mirror his grin, lowering your arm and setting the figurine back down. “Well, we make a great team.” You don’t say anything after this, but Freddy, still surveying you closely, can tell you want to, so he calls attention to it himself. He has a sneaking suspicion he knows exactly what you want to ask.

“Did you want to flip a coin?”

Immediately you nod, a smile creeping onto your face and it’s contagious. Freddy’s smiling too and he chuckles and says Let me just find one and he rifles through his pocket for some spare change. You’d feel more comfortable if you ended up keeping the figurine after a coin toss, to keep it fair, and Freddy is willing to indulge this because even if you call it wrong and by the rules of the game, the figurine comes into his possession instead, he’ll just sneak it into your backpack before you go home.

“All right…” Having produced a quarter, he curls his hand into a loose fist, then rests it atop his thumbnail. He flicks his thumb and the coin clinks quietly, and both your gazes follow as it flies straight up, spinning over and over—heads, tails, heads, tails… “Call it.”

#freddy freeman x reader #freddy freeman imagine #shazam x reader #shazam imagine #bubble-tea-bunny #queue

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