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#i am working on com & also school!!

skzstannie · 3 months

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"I've been wanting to do that for so long"

SKZ -> Minho x fem!reader

genre: best friends to lovers, fluffffffy wc: ~1,200 cw: none :)

summary: You and Minho are finally able to make something of his consistent flirty behavior.

A/N: Hiii! A little shorter than normal, but I wanted to get something out while I work on the requests I have. Hope everyone is doing well! Please feel free to leave feedback in the comments and like/reblog- it's truly appreciated!

Also, I know a lot of you like the angst, but don't worry! The request I'm working on has lots of it 👀👀

Masterlist | Happy Scrolling!

"Please tell me we don't have to watch another one of your chick flicks tonight," Minho groans, walking into the living room from the kitchen, two bowls of popcorn in hand.

"Of course we do, do you even know me?" you tease, sinking back further into the couch. You watch as he crosses in front of you, gently setting the bowls down on the table before throwing himself down onto the couch beside you.

It's your and Minho's weekly movie night, and the two of you decided to do it at your apartment this week. Not that the dorms aren't a fun hangout place, it's just sometimes your sensitive eardrums need a break.

The two of you have been friends for forever; you actually met back in elementary school. Your box of crayons was missing the pink one, and Minho became your knight in shining armor when he valiantly and bravely gave you his. From then on, he's been by your side. Need an errand buddy to run to the store with? Minho will come. Need someone to edit your college essay? Minho will do it. Need someone to cry with you on your couch once a week while you indulge yourself in different romantic fantasies? You know Minho will be there every time.

You try not to subject him to your rom coms every week, but it's so easy and fun to immerse yourself in other people's love lives, even if just for an hour and a half.

Your love life is close to non-existent. Minho, and occasionally his band members, are the only male interactions you ever get. You're not necessarily the most outgoing person, so it's hard for you to meet new people.

Not that you're necessarily complaining, I mean, you're so grateful for the friendship you have with Minho, but sometimes you wish it was more than that. His consistent teasing doesn't help your constant delusions. He's always flirting with you, calling you pet names and telling you how beautiful you are. You know it's nothing more than teasing, so you try not to let it affect you.

"How about this one?" you ask him, hovering over The Kissing Booth. You've seen it a million times, but it's one of your favorites; you'll never pass up an opportunity to watch it.

"I couldn't be more indifferent," he comments dryly. You roll your eyes at him and press play, playfully tossing the remote at his side.

"Do that again and I'm snatching it up and changing it," he glances at you, his face blank of emotion. You keep your eyes on the screen, holding back a smirk.

As emotionless as your best friend could come off sometimes, you know he always means well. You are more similar than you'd like to admit, and you know just as well how hard showing other's your emotions can be.

~ ~ ~

"Haven't we watched this one before?" Minho interrupts, his finger pointing accusingly at the screen.

"Maybe..."

"You've got to be kidding me. Where's that damn remote?" his hands sweep over the couch cushions in the dark room, and he looks to you when he comes up with nothing. His narrow eyes meet your innocent ones. "Give me it. I am not watching this one again; it was terrible."

"You didn't think it was terrible 10 minutes ago when your eyes were practically glued to the screen," you counter, holding the remote tightly in your clasped hands.

He scoffs, reaching out towards you. His fingers grasp around your arm and give you a rough pull, making you topple over into him. You let out an embarrassing squawk when you both slip to the floor in your impromptu wrestling match.

You find yourself underneath him, his hands still pulling roughly at the remote.

"Give it to me!"

"No! I want to watch this!"

The struggle continues for a few moments, you desperately trying to protect the remote while Minho sits above you, practically manhandling you.

In a quick lapse of judgement, you let up a little, allowing Minho to pin your hands to the ground above your head. Both of you are breathless as you lay beneath him, a playful smirk gracing the beautiful face in front of you.

Your eyes are wide as you lay there. You expect him to get off you, but he doesn't. He unwaveringly holds his position above you.

You catch his big brown eyes switch between your eyes and your lips, and you feel your breath hitch in your throat when he leans down slightly.

It's silent between the two of you as he slowly comes closer, his gaze remaining on your lips.

Your heart drops when he brings his lips to your ear instead. "I win," he whispers, before casually plucking the remote from your previously pinned hands. He gets off you, adjusting his clothes before he plops back on the couch, immediately exiting out of the movie.

You lay there another moment, thinking about what the heck just happened and whether you're going to let him get away with it.

You sit up abruptly, staring at him with disbelief. "What the hell was that?"

"What?" his gaze remains on the T.V. screen, and you find his nonchalance irritating.

"What do you mean, 'What'?"

"We wrestle all the time, what are you on about?"

Your jaw drops at his statement. "Yes, we do, but not- not like that," you let out a flustered chuckle, shaking your head at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." When he speaks this time, you're able to catch the slightest upturn of his lips.

"You're messing with me," you tell him, not believing his actions could've been all innocent.

He finally breaks his gaze away from the T.V., setting the remote down beside him. "Now why would I do that?"

"Because- because that's what you do! You're sarcastic, and you're sly, and- and..." your frustration gets the best of you, and you bring your hands up to cover your face. You feel your cheeks burn red with embarrassment.

"What did you think was going to happen? Did you want me to kiss you like Noah did to Elle?"

You rip your hands away from your face at that, your jaw dropping at his suggestion. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," his voice is steady, his eye contact strong as he stands his ground. "We've been doing this long enough. I just want to know if this is reciprocated."

"If what's reciprocated?"

"You know, this- this thing between us. Is it reciprocated? Like, do you like like me like I like like you?" He raises an eyebrow at you, waiting for an answer you're hesitant to give.

"You're not messing with me?" you're cautious as the question leaves your lips.

"No, I'm not. How can I spell it out for you," he pauses, bringing a hand up to his chin in an exaggerated manner. "I like you. I have a crush on you. I want to be your boyfriend. I-"

"Ok, ok!" you cut him off with a laugh, "I do."

"You like me back?"

"Yea, yea I do."

His actions are quick as he drops to his knees on the floor in front of you. He rushes you, his body moving over yours. His hands grasp your wrists, pushing them above your head.

His legs rest on either side of your hips, pinning you down.

"Ok, let's try this again then."

You let yourself get lost in his eyes as he leans down towards you again.

When his face is close enough for his nose to rest against yours, he brings his lips to yours.

He pulls away when your both breathless, a look of mirth on his face.

"I've been wanting do that for so long."

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #lee know #lee minho #skz minho #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #best friends to lovers #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #lee know fluff #lee know imagines #lee know scenarios

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hlficlibrary · 8 months

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HL Fic Library 😎🤓 Popular Louis/Nerd Harry Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

😎 This Offer Stands Forever by Tomlinsontoes / @pianolouis {M, 78k}

Harry is who high school kids would define as a nerd, he loved going to class and studying, he was just good at school work and saw nothing wrong with liking it. He signs up to tutor students at the middle school down the road where he ends up helping Lottie Tomlinson, younger sister to the ever popular and gorgeous Louis Tomlinson who is also a senior and in a few classes of Harry's. Harry might have a crush on him and not so sure how to act around Louis but hopes he can get close to the other boy and learn everything about him.

🤓 Want You More Than A by TheCellarDoor / @donotdialnine {M, 77k}

Falling in love with your step-brother’s best friend is a disaster enough. When he happens to be the boy everyone loves and you’re a nerd who wears sweater vests and cries during rom-coms, it takes it to a whole new level.

😎 I hear you calling in the dead of night by Thelonelycoast {M, 72k}

No one really notices Marcel Styles. In fact, Marcel’s so invisible that if his teachers don’t call on him in lessons - and they rarely do - Marcel can go whole days without speaking to anyone other than his mum, his sister, Gemma, his cat, Dusty and the school librarian, Alma. And if he just so happens to have a tiny, miniscule crush on the footie captain, Louis Tomlinson, well, that’s no one’s business but his own. Until Louis notices him back...

🤓 Webs of lies by Hazzaslittle28 {E, 35k}

"Truth or Dare?" The question was delivered with a nasty smirk from Drake's side,

"Who do you think I am? Of course Dare." Louis scoffs before leaning back and adjusting his skirt,

"Very well than. Your dare is to play Styles for two months until the dance." Louis frowns at the odd dare,

"Why would you- you know what? Okay I accept it. Louis Tomlinson never looses a dare." He smirks sultrily before plucking the cigarette from Drake's mouth and taking a drag out of it.

"Let's see then."

Or The au in which The popular is given a dare to date the nerd, hearts will be broken, words will loose their meaning and tears would be shed.

😎 The Library Universe (series) by @allwaswell16 {E, 33k}

Harry Styles has a great life. He’s a children’s librarian at the New York Public Library, he’s got wonderful friends, and he loves cooking, green tea, yoga, and his collection of bow ties. He doesn’t mind that his life seems a little structured, maybe even a little boring. But when Louis Tomlinson joins the library staff as the new Installation Coordinator, things become a lot less predictable. Louis gets under his skin right from the start, bossing Harry around, making noise during story time, and eating the last cupcake in the staff lounge. Louis may be almost offensively attractive, but Harry will not be succumbing to Louis Tomlinson’s charms, even if the rest of the library staff have.

🤓 Supposed to Be by kikikryslee / @flamboyantommo {M, 26k}

“I’m making a movie for a film competition, and I want you to be in it,” Harry told Louis. “I think you would be a great leading actor in it.” “Why?” “Because it’s you. I mean, who wouldn’t want to know all about the amazing Louis Tomlinson? It would be a great movie.” “You don’t have some weird crush or, like, secret obsession with me, do you?” Louis asked. Harry bit his tongue so he didn’t say “Ew, I have standards.” He didn’t think that would go over well. Of course, that was assuming Louis understood what that meant.

Or, the Geek Charming AU where Harry's a film geek, Louis' a popular jock, and they both need each other to get what they want.

😎 He Was a Different League (When I Was Nothing Much) by @afangirlfantasy {NR, 21k}

Sick of being alone, Marcel is forced (by Niall) to join an online dating app. The idea is well and all, except for the inconvenient fact that he hasn’t moved on from his childhood sweetheart - Louis. If only Marcel could learn to let go, he might actually be able to love again.

Or, an AU where finding that 'someone new' actually leads to finding that 'someone old,' and Marcel is painfully oblivious.

🤓 taken by lust’s strange inhumanity by CuckooTrooke / @larrydoinglaundry {E, 20k}

One of the reasons Harry said 'yes' in the first place was because he believed Louis Tomlinson, the campus’ most notorious “bad boy”, would be here.

And much to Harry's triumph and dismay, Louis is here but the last time Harry got a glimpse of him, he had a pretty omega wrapped around him, clinging onto the flaps of his leather jacket while nosing his scent glands.

Maybe that’s just the story of Harry's life; always infatuated with the wrong people.

OR The one with all the jealous snarling, awkward first kisses and one unforgettable night.

😎 Won't Keep You My (Dirty Little) Secret by @lovelykits {E, 16k}

“I got asked out today,” Louis comments. “Okay,” Harry shifts. “Did you hear me? I said I got asked out.” "You always get asked out.” “Yeah well this time they didn’t believe I had a boyfriend!”

Or Louis and Harry have been together since the end of last year and somehow no one knows about it.

🤓 Kings by dolce_piccante / @haydolce {T, 13k}

Marcel receives an invitation to his ten year high school reunion, which brings up some painful memories of his youth. His lifelong best friend and roommate, Louis, is as supportive and kind as ever, but Marcel still has hesitations. Louis was Prom King. Marcel...was not.

Will Marcel make the reunion a night to remember with his former classmate, Zayn, who is newly wealthy, handsome, and reveals his childhood crush on Marcel? Or will Louis finally realize what everyone else has known all along?

😎 blinded me with sweater vests by veterization {T, 13k}

Marcel really is the geekiest person Louis has ever seen with that gelled hair and that horrendous sweater vest, so it sucks that Louis really, really wants to get to know him.

🤓 A Real Work of Art by @lululawrence {NR, 11k}

“I don’t understand,” Liam said for probably the fiftieth time in ten minutes. “You have to explain again how this is a bad thing.”

“Leeeeyummm,” Harry whined into the phone as he leaned his head onto his desk. “I felt like this year was my year for getting his attention, you know? That senior year I would finally get Logan Thompson to realize I exist! But he’s in almost every single one of my classes, Li. How am I supposed to survive that?”

“Easily,” Liam answered, with the same matter of fact tone his voice always took when Harry was in one of his fits. “He doesn’t know you exist, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Right?”

Or the one where Harry calls on an old friend, the super popular Louis Tomlinson, to help him change his look to capture the heart of Logan. Things only mostly go as planned.

😎 your heart is glowing (and i'm crashing into you) by orphan_account {T, 11k}

If this were a fairytale, maybe even a Young Adult novel or a chick flick, this would be the moment where Louis would stare right into his soul and whisper, “You. It’s you, Harry,” before pulling him in for a kiss right there and then in the middle of the sidewalk. They’d confess their never-ending love for each other then hold hands for the rest of the walk home, and then they’d go to uni together and become the ultimate power couple of their campus. They’d start a family together a few years after they graduate, find a large house somewhere nice and preferably warm, get two pet dogs and five cats, and then adopt enough children to start a football team. If only men could get pregnant as well, Harry thinks wistfully. He’d love to carry Louis’ babies given the chance.

But. This isn’t a fairytale, nor is it a movie based off the latest YA bestseller. This is real life.

(harry is in love with love, volunteers to hand out valentine gifts for a week, and somehow becomes the football captain's secret admirer.)

🤓 I could give you what you deserve. by larryaresoulmates {E, 8k}

Louis is popular, Harry is his super nerdy tutor. Louis is the only one who's actually nice to Harry despite his nerdiness. Harry has a giant crush on Louis, but Louis has a boyfriend, who bullies Harry behind Louis' back.

😎 Convalescent Boy (with a Heart of Gold) by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {T, 7k}

Just as the professor beginning to mess with his powerpoint, the door at the back of the balcony creaks open and Marcel looks back to notice Louis Tomlinson, The Louis Tomlinson, slip in and take a seat in the very back.

Marcel is starting to feel like his life is a comedy. Only yesterday was Louis Tomlinson on his floor at the library. Now he’s in his seminar. What is happening?

“Hey Mars,” Nick says, not particularly quietly as he leans over. “Isn’t that your crush?”

Marcel smacks him.

Or, the one where Marcel is a nerd who loves to learn but loves to go to theatre productions even more, and may or may not have a long time crush on the lead in most of the plays, Louis Tomlinson. The same Louis Tomlinson who seems to be appearing wherever Marcel is. Funny, that.

🤓 Seems You Cannot Be Replaced by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird {M, 5k}

Harry and the popular boy in school, Louis Tomlinson, share a tension-filled night together when they're young. Fifteen years later they see each other again.

😎 it's kinda hot in here by ballsdeepinjesus {E, 3k}

“Is that a moth on your stomach?”

or nerdy harry is hiding some stuff under his dorky clothes and louis fucks him in a locker room

🤓 Lucky by @friendofhayley {E, 4k}

When Harry had moved from London to New Jersey he had been prepared for bad spray tans and Regina George. He hadn't been prepared to meet the best thing to ever happen to him.

If only he hadn't worn an ugly brown vest covered in cat pee when he met him.

😎 No Matter What They Say by ivorydreams {M, 3k}

It's not that Harry and Louis are hiding the fact that they're in a relationship. It's not them being ashamed of each other.

People just never noticed.

Or the one where no one knows Harry Styles, the 'nerd', and Louis Tomlinson, 'mr. popular football captain', are in a romantic relationship.

🤓 ❤ For Effort by @fallinglikethis {G, 2k}

When Harry Styles lets his team down during gym class, resulting everyone having to run laps, he expects the worst. But the backlash never comes.

Harry's crush, Louis Tomlinson, may or may not have something to do with that.

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pagannatural · 2 months

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1.16 Shadow

-This is going to be long-winded

-Sam snaps at Dean for talking about a woman rather than focusing on him the case. Like REALLY snaps.

-he gives Dean attitude again for flirting at the bar and looks hurt and tired

-Sam sees Meg and thinks That’s suspicious maybe this is a lead. Dean sees Sam talking to Meg and thinks Oh god oh no oh fuck shit shit he’s leaving me fuck it’s me or her oh jesus god no

-Sam is very focused on Meg during their initial conversation because she’s a lead. Dean misreads the fuck out of this and stares between them uneasily, clearing his throat, until Meg says Sam told her about him.

He’s psyched to hear this. He’s so happy Sam talked about him. Sam, however, is nervous about getting caught emotionally cheating on Dean by talking to Meg about their relationship issues when they were fighting.

-Dean starts in the second they leave the bar with “who the hell was she” which is exactly what a cheated-on wife would say. Dean is mad that Sam talked shit about him to someone else but mostly he’s scared that there’s “truth to what she was saying” and asks “am I keeping you against your will?” They’re both so desperate to be chosen by each other.

Sam reacts with genuine indignation and says “no, of course not.” He asks Dean to listen to what he’s saying and Dean finally does.

-Then of course Dean makes a series of dirty jokes about Sam being interested in her, at one point glancing openly at Sam’s dick which

like, I-

???

He pushes his jokes farther than he needs to because this thing with Meg really got to him. It’s different this episode than his usual teasing because there’s anger behind it. He’s fixating on Sam’s sex life and making himself a part of it as much as possible. If Dean is in Sam’s head about it it’s like he’s part of it too. There’s also an element of passive aggression, like Hey if I’m keeping you and you want to be with her go right ahead.

-This is his face at the end of their phone call later, when Sam says “bite me” and Dean says “No, bite her” which is all kinds of psychosexual and jealous and Sam hangs up on him.

He is not having a fun lighthearted time. He’s trying to act flippant about Meg but Sam really hurt his feelings.

-He shoots Sam this jealous look while teasing him yet again in a way neither of them enjoys

Dean you are the bad girl. You’re the sharpshooting fuck-the-police real-tough-cookie-with-the-whiskey-breath killer-and-a-thriller bad bitch in his life.

-They have their most intense fight yet this episode because Sam tells Dean that when this is over he will go back to school.

-For context, this conversation comes right after Dean tries to call John and gets his voicemail yet again. It comes a few episodes after Sam told John that Dean was dying, also over voicemail, and he never called. Sam still needs to rebel against their dad, and Dean is proposing that they all three work together. Sam is in this when it’s just him and Dean but he’s been working hard to keep some distance from Dean so that he can leave when they’ve finished their mission.

Sam really can’t join Dean and John without smothering the side of himself that needs to belong and be respected. And he and Dean can’t really belong to each other with their dad around. The three of them hunting together doesn’t work and Sam knows that. Part of that is because Dean always follows John’s orders. And maybe part of that is Sam’s too-strong feelings for Dean.

-Sam says “there’s gotta be something you want for yourself” and Dean says “I don’t want you to leave the second this thing’s over.”

Just to rephrase this exchange is

Sam: what do you want for your life

Dean: I want you to stay

and they look like they’re in another rom com

Dean asks him why he thinks he wanted Sam with him in the first place. Sam doesn’t understand. He really thinks Dean just wanted his help to complete the mission of finding John and killing the demon.

Dean says yeah, “But it’s more than that, man.” And Sam looks at him sooo intensely. It seems like Dean is going to confess, and I wonder what Sam thought in this moment. The inclusion of John makes it seem less like they’re desperately in love, and is often the only thing making it seem like anything other than desperate yearning for each other.

Dean says he wants the three of them to be a family again. Sam says “We are a family, I’d do anything for you.” Dean reacts with this miserable look of hope only when Sam says “I’d do anything for you.” Anything?

“but things will never be the way they were before.” Sam says “when this is all over you’re gonna have to let me go my own way.”

This is Dean’s worst fear, and for the rest of the season at least he is operating on the belief that Sam wants to leave him.

-Sam saves himself, Dean, and John from the shadow demons. Dean and John help each other out of the building with Sam trailing close behind them. This is probably what Sam has felt like his whole life- like he’s trying to catch up to Dean and John, who are ahead of him, helping each other, and just out of reach.

Sam tells John “I’ve got to be a part of this fight,” begging not be left behind yet again.

-It’s revealed in this episode that Dean cares about his family, and especially Sam, more than he cares about anything else, and that Sam didn’t know that. This is the first time Dean’s actually said it. It changes things for Sam because he starts to see Dean more clearly. He’s still clinging for dear life to the possibility of going back to college. Even though he never really fit in and he needs Dean like water.

-Dean doesn’t get any resolution here, and he won’t for a while.

#samdean #supernatural #spn meta #wincest #spn 1x16

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beesmygod · 2 years

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i had the most unbelievably frustrating conversation the other day over the complete failure of modern criticism to recognize the most basic forms of misogyny, especially in mainstream media, and how the inability to recognize these things was leading to a death in entertainment for young women that wasn’t regressive or insulting to their capabilities. the attempt to rehabilitate “twilight”, a novel in which the protagonist (who i am told has no personality or interests, outside of getting attention to boys, on purpose in order to act as a proxy for the reader) must choose between her family, her future, her dreams, her wants, and her desires or what her boyfriend wants, is an example.

“lore olympus” has drifted significantly from its original central contrived plot revolving around persephone maintaining her virginity (?!) so she can keep her college scholarship, but the original concept appeared to offer the female readership a choice: either stay in school or become the 19 year old object of sexual obsession of a man nearly 3x your age, which is good, because he will take care of you. the protagonist is a waifish, weak, emotional, perpetual victim of the world around her who needs men to com rescue her from even the mildest of situations.

inexplicable cult classic “jupiter ascending” revolves entirely around who she should marry. she does absolutely nothing in the entire movie except get shuffled from set piece to set piece as she must choose whether to marry the heterosexual buff dog man or the effeminate villain. tbh all of these properties are very similar to me in my head; they fail basic sniff tests but are gobbled up by masses who, i had thought, were more capable of discerning these concepts.

the inability to escape properties with these elements contributed significantly to my downward spiral as i became a teen/adult. there was a dawning horror that the number of avenues for success on my own were being deliberately made unavailable to me in order to keep an entire half of the population indebted to the other. that the expectation was not that i would get a job out of school, take care of myself, maybe meet someone along the way, maybe have a kid if it works out. i was supposed to get a degree, as a joke i guess or just to waste my time since i wasn’t REALLY supposed to get a real job, and then immediately i would be used as childcare/a live in maid because my interests were secondary to those of the man i was expected to marry (im also bi so that added another fun twist to it lol). my 20s and 30s were supposed to be used on children and taking care of my husband. this realization made it feel like i was trapped in a box that shrunk and shrunk and threatened to crush me under the pressure from all sides to be something i couldnt even comprehend people wanted to be.

pointing out the existence and proliferation of what, to me, are extremely basic concepts to reject as a feminist, causes people to launch into a type of defense that feels like it comes from another planet. accusations of puritanism, censorship, being the actual misogynist, etc. i dont know how to explain to people that pointing these things out, LIKE I AM DOING IN THIS POST LIKE THIS LEVEL OF DISCUSSION, is not a call for it to be banned or removed or changed or whatever. the purpose of bad art is to discuss it and learn from it. we’re supposed to dissect it and why it came into existence, not stomp out anything that isn’t flawlessly progressive.

if i didnt have anything to complain about i’d get bored lol. how is a critic supposed to criticize without criticism, you know.

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igotanidea · 4 months

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Sous chef : Sam Winchester x reader cook AU (part 1)

sous chef fr): works directly under the head chef

Request: Sammy has his own restaurant, he is a Chef, he works in the administration almost always and usually cooks once a week at the place, he falls in love with the reader. Age gap but everything legal, he cooks for her, she falls in love with his food! and the excellent sex with him (played with it a bit, hope you'll like it anon :)

***

Before we start this story we have to make one thing clear.

Y/N was not a silly teenage rom-com heroine.

Did she watch them? Yes. Did she read them? Yes, absolutely.

But only for the funsies.

It was not like the “To all the boys I’ve ever loved” plotline.

Not like she was only living the fantasy inside her head, too scared to act on her own feelings.

It was not – god forbid – like the After plotline and Y/N was not the good girl focused only on her school stuff not wanting to have anything to do with the bad boys and boys at all.

No way in hell.

She had her own amount of love drama and with the slightly wild character she was more than ready for a new chapter in her life.

College.

Parties, boys, skipping classes and making out in the toilets, sneaking under the professors’ nose.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, let’s talk reality.

She was a nice girl. A kind spirit. A dreamer.

With a vision, sharp tongue and good priorities.

Not a pushover but also not the most popular. Not the sharpest crayon in the box, but street smart. If you asked Y/N Y/L/N how she classified herself she would probably answer in the middle. She could get lost inside her own head trying way too hard to figure things out instead of just letting it unravel and go with a flow. Dead set on putting some sort of label on herself to find out where she belongs. Which was still bound to happen.

She has just moved to the new city to college and what was better way to get acquainted with the surroundings and fellow students than –

- having a little trip? (I’m pretty sure you thought party, huh?)

In her defence – she tried partying, but seeing her college friends drunk dancing and throwing up because they actually wanted to let loose and have a big opening of the year was a bit too much. Therefore, she grabbed her girls, completely ignored their whining about ruining the mood and baptized as Y/N, the destroyer, dragged them out into the city.

That’s how they found this little nice restaurant in the suburbs. Nothing too fancy nor too expensive for a students’ budget but good enough for a group of young adult women who just started living (almost) on their own.

It was nice to have a ladies’ night. At least until the door to the restaurant opened and a representative of the opposite sex entered causing all the females to raise their gazes. A little rascal definitely noticed the sudden commotion in the henhouse cause he shot them a teasing gaze and winked in a flirtatious manner before heading towards the counter smiling widely at the other man standing there.

“Is he gay?” Y/N asked, barely holding back a chuckle, while observing the whole scene

“Who?”

“That guy who just entered!”

“What?” her friends laughed collectively “Dean Winchester being gay? Damn Y/N. He had more girls in his bed in last two months than any of us will have in our whole life!”

“Are you a lesbian then, f/n?”

“What?”

“You said he had more girls than any of us-“

“oh shut it! Slip of the tongue, you know what I mean!”

“so not gay?”

“definitely.”

“who’s the other one then?” Y/N took a sip of her drink pointing out behind her back.

“He?”

“yes he! Do you see any other good looking guys around?”

“That’s Sam.” f/n replied and went quiet teasing Y/N on absolute purpose.

“Care to elaborate or are you too busy foaming at the mouth while checking out that Dean guy?”

“Can you blame me? Damn, have you seen his-?”

“f/n!”

“face! Have you seen his face?” Y/N rolled her eyes in frustration. “they are brothers. Obviously. Sam’s a chef and Dean ... well, I am not sure what he does for a living but I’m all up for the bad boy style and attitude.”

“dare I ask?”

“you better not. I see that little blush on your face so enjoy your little teenage rom-com moment.” f/n laughed sipping her drink though the straw purposefully making it loud to get the man’s attention and be the eyecatcher on Y/N’s behalf.

“stop it!” Y/N shushed suddenly feeling eyes on her back, almost burning the hole and – ironically – do making her blush.

“and what if I don’t?”

“you’re crazy!”

“and you’re too shy for your own good. Come one, live a little. Have a hot, steamy romance. Free yourself! Burn the bra!”

“What?”

“It’s a figure of speech!”

“I know what it means!” Y/N laughed and shook her head at her friend’s stupidity. However, instead of leaving or making a scene she just raised her own glass in a celebratory gesture “cheers!”

And now – tell me, in your honest opinion, don’t you think that few young woman in an almost empty restaurant at the very late hour, laughing and acting the way young carefree girls should, would get some looks, even if covert?

***

Once the academic year got off the ground the time seemed to pass in an accelerated speed. Before anyone noticed the beginning of October turned into November and then everyone started slowly thinking about actual work and getting some work as a source of income.

Y/N was no exception to this rule. Between mingling, being a socially engaged person, going out with friends, studying, preparing for exams, finding little time for her hobbies and currently fighting for an internship, her life was simply crazy.

So she wandered around the city alone to get at least a bit of peace of mind. Not having any specific destination in mind, just letting her feet lead her to whatever place she might find herself in. Just being and floating in space, allowing her imagination and creativity run free, unrestrained by a rigid schedule.

The old bookshop looking like it was taken straight from the Harry Potter universe might have been a spot where she’s been spending most of her time, to such extend that the owner learned her name. moreover, she even started helping him in running the business which was quite good practice given the fact she was studying business and economics. And for one more reason too.

***

“I’m here, sorry for being late! Bus was delayed due to the weather and –“ she walked through the door shaking of the snow not realising that there was a client present and Bobby was nowhere to be found. That meant she was supposed to serve the man standing by the counter, whose face she could not see at the moment. “Morning sir. What can I help you with?” swiftly she hung her damp coat and hat on the hanger and approached him. “Sam?” the name escaped her before she bit her tongue.

“Hi. Do I know you?” the man frowned in confusion, but it was not a confused expression of someone offended by being called by his given name, rather a sympathetic question of someone trying hard to refresh his memory.

“No.” she shook her head with a smile of embarrassment “no you don’t, not really. But my friend got eyes for your brother, you should warn him about a feisty female sharpening her claws.”

“I am pretty sure Dean can handle- wait, you’re that girl from the restaurant.”

“Good memory. Surprisingly good, actually.” She reached her hand towards him “I’m Y/N Y/L/N. It’s only fair to tell you my name since I already know yours.”

“Nice to meet youY/N. You work here?”

“More like volunteer. Full time student, part time bookseller. Doesn’t seem like a match made in heaven, does it?”

“Well, I bet you wouldn’t expect to see a chef searching for a book, will you?”

“I’m not judgmental.” She shrugged taking a look at the pile of volumes in his hands “but choosing modern sci-fi crime and mythology books is a bit surprising. For a guy in general.”

“It’s just side interest. And actually I was hoping Bobby would find something that would be more complex than a manifestation of the author's exuberant and non-realistic imagination”

“Wow, now that’s the wording.”

“for a chef?” Sam smirked.

“For a person. Anyone else would just say the book was fucked up.”

“Thought you weren’t judgmental?”

“I wasn’t.” Y/N shrugged and grinned at him “till you said that you’re pretty much looking for fantasy book with no fantasy in it.”

“Then why do I get the feeling you know perfectly where to find one?”

“Challenge accepted Mr. Winchester.”

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester smut #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you

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tessenpai · 7 months

Text

Kono Oto Tomare Chapter 128 Scans and Rough TL

Disclaimer: Please DO NOT use this translation to make your own TL of the chapter!! The KOT TL group works very hard to give you the most accurate translation, that does as much justice to the original script as possible. This is a ROUGH translation. That means is faulty and there must be mistakes in certain places. This is just for impatient people like myself to get a grasp on what is going on in the chapter! You can REFERENCE my TL if you want to discuss the chapter but never USE it as it was your own.

Scans: https://klz9.com/jxsh-kono-oto-tomare-raw-chapter-128.html

Page 1

Sign: Judge's Waiting Room.

Side Text: It's Tokise's turn. The competition's second day begins...

Chapter Title: #128 Dull Footsteps

Judge Tatsumi: !

Judge Tatsumi: Agata-sensei, Kurokawa-sensei. Good morning. You are both early, I see.

Page 2

Judge Agata: No, we just arrived ourselves.

Judge Tatsumi: Did you get enough rest yesterday?

Judge Agata: Well, yes.

Judge Tatsumi: I was so excited I didn't sleep a wink!

Judge Tatsumi: To think high school clubs would display such high level!

Judge Tatsumi: And today Ichiei, the best in the nation, will play. I truly can not wait.

Judge Kurokawa: Certainly, they have won for 5 consecutive years.

Judge Tatsumi: Exactly! That is amazing---

Judge Kurokawa: Then again, Ichiei's members are all children who aim to become professionals, so it's to be expected that they are at a completely different level.

Judge Tatsumi: You may be right about that but... Yesterday's Meiryo and Chibana's performances were perfect

Judge Tatsumi: I can't imagine what could possibly surpass that.

Page 3

Judge Tatsumi: ---Also, there is one school that has picked my interest.

Judge Kurokawa: !

Judge Kurokawa: Aah, you mean that problematic school...

Judge Kurokawa: They are out of the question, I would say.

Judge Kurowaka: How could they cause such a commotion and not get suspended?

Judge Tatsumi: They did explain to us that the students weren't really at fault for the incident.

Judge Kurokawa: Where there is smoke, there is fire. It's detrimental to the other students as well.

Judge Kurokawa: At least we, the judges, should give a proper and fair evaluation---

Judge Agata: Are you not planning to judge them solely based on their performance?

Judge Kurokawa: Eh...?

Page 4

Judge Agata: Excuse me but, it sounded to me like you are planning on lowering your rating over areas irrelevant to the performance, so…

Judge Kurokawa: ...I'm sorry you see it that way. To begin with, I don't believe you can separate the performance from the performer.

Judge Kurokawa: For instruments and music... Attitude. Courtesy, Respect... I believe those things are included in the performance.

Judge Kurokawa: And I will most definitely consider them in my judgment.

Judge Kurokawa: --Well, I don't know if you would understand this, Agata-sensei, since you are a musician who always does new things, like collaborating with other genres and using unusual performance methods without respecting the traditions.

Page 5

Judge Agata: I have never disrespected tradition.

Judge Arata: I am trying to explore all of its possibilities while cherishing it.

Judge Tatsumi: Now, now.

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: Man... These two are a pain in the ass as per usual...

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: ---Then again, the school in question... I feel sorry for the Tokise kids.

Judge Tatsumi[thoughts]: Even in the unlikely event that they make it to the top

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: I can clearly see the bashing we would receive from other schools and their parents.

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: I want to avoid that kind of hassle.

Page 6

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: But that doesn't mean I wouldn't be conscience-stricken if I lowered my ranking because of that.

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: At the end of the day

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: It will be fine as long as Tokise's performance is not that good.

Judge Nanba: Good morning---

Judge Tatsumi: Nanba-sensei, Iwagaki-san, good morning.

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: --My... to think I could be so calculating and cowardly.

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: I think I have become one boring adult.

Page 7

Isaki [thoughts]: I was a bit late to leave. I wonder if I can still ambush Takaoka-kun.

Isaki [thoughts]: Also, I wonder if Uzuki will be waiting for me

Isaki [thoughts]: If not… well, that's the path he chose for himself.

???: Isaki.

Page 8

Isaki: Eh?

Tetsuki: ...

Tetsuki: ...Whatever, I've already gotten used to it. This pattern.

Tetsuki: Alright, fine. I will get in.

Page 9

Isaki: ...Takaoka-kun, sorry.

Tetsuki: Eh?

Isaki: For every time I've taken you forcibly on a drive, I have not once felt an ounce of regret about it. If anything I enjoyed seeing how much you hated it.

Tetsuki: What?

Isaki: But today

Isaki: I regret it from the bottom of my heart. I'm very sorry.

Tetsuki: What's with that, suddenly? I'm scared now.

Isaki: Well, first off, get in.

Tetsuki: I reaally don't want to...

Isaki: Just do it

Tetsuki: Whaa---...

Page 10

*No text*

TL/N: Welcome to spooky season.

Page 11

Tetsuki: ----... Uh... umm...

Tetsuki [thoughts]: Don't... tell me

Tetsuki [sfx]: Turns

Isaki: Yup, as expected you are quick on the uptake.

Isaki: -----

Page 12

Isaki: That's Chika's father.

Chika(?): No joke, the air is so crisp and clear the moment you arrive at the venue!

Mittsu(?): It feels like something is about to happen

Satowa(?): Aren't there more people than yesterday?

Chika(?): Ah, you are right.

Suzuka: Well, it's Ichiei's, the Nation's number one, turn. Also--

Page 13

Student 1: Aren't those the Tokise people?

Student 2: Woah, they are.

Student 3: They do kinda stick out like a sore thumb...

Student 4: They really came...

Sane: Ri... right...

Suspicious men: Did you take it?

Chika: !

Satowa: Kudou?

Tsukaji: Hello, you guys!

Tsukaji: How are you feeling?

Page 14

Chika: Old man!

Tsukaji: Did you get proper sleep yesterday?

Chika: Ye- yeah

Suspicious guy 1: Who's that dude. Get outta the way---

Komaki: Whaaat---

Komaki: Are these Peeping Toms what I'm seeing here? Oh gosh, scaaryy-

Tsurugi: Security, over here--!

Suspicious guy 1: Shut up. What the hell!

Suspicious guy 2: Hey, let's just go.

Tsurugi: What? You shut up!!

Tsurugi: Are you ok?

Suzuka: I'm sorry. Thank you very much.

Student 1: Even voyeurs.

Student 2: Well, isn't this their own fault?

Page 15

Student 3: Isn't it because Tokise has come that people with no civility have gathered here?

Student 4: This is really bothersome.

Tsukaji: Ugh---

Chika: Old ma...

Sane: It's all good, Tsukaji-san.

Sane: I don't mean to brag here, but we are used to playing in hostile fields

Page 16

Mittsu: You really are bragging---

Satowa: Well, we have certainly got used to it.

Satowa: To people (audibly) talking behind our backs and being looked at with disdain.

Takezou [thoughts]: They really do have thick skin... Should I be happy about that...?

Hiro: Hozuki-chan is growing so fast.

Takezou [thoughts]: Ah but, what about the first years---

Atsumu: I used to get bullied! The fact that you guys are with me now makes me feel so at ease!

Natsu: I don't care about other people.

Takezou [thoughts]: Aah, so strong.

Sane: Wahaha we know, Momoya.

Page 17

Sane: Well, that's how it is. So you don't have to---

Tsukaji: I'm so touched...

Sane: Whaat--...?

Tetsuki [thoughts]: ...Isaki-san.

Isaki [thoughts]: ...Yes.

Page 18

Tetsuki [thoughts]: What is this ride from hell?

Isaki [thoughts]: Sorry. I'm really sorry...

Isaki [thoughts]: My brother didn't even contact me, he just suddenly appeared...!!

[flashback begins]

Chika's Father: ---Isaki

Isaki: Eh?

Isaki: Wai- what!? Bro- brother!?

Isaki: Wha- no way. Why are you here!? Don't tell me you came to listen to the performance!?

Page 19

Chika's Father: ...

Isaki: Ah, no.

Isaki: Sorry, I totally thought you were not coming. You gave me a start.

Chika's Father: I'm going back.

Isaki: What!?

Isaki: Now, wait a second. Why are you so bent out of shape over this? Didn't it take a lot of determination to come here!?

Isaki: And didn't you come all the way to where I'm staying hoping I could give you some room with Chika!?

Page 20

Chika's Father: ...I haven't really thought about something like that.

Chika's Father: I don't want to see him.

Isaki: ...Then why did you come all they way to this place.

Chika's Father: ...

Chika's Father: ... ....

Isaki [sfx]: Pissed

Isaki: Whatever, I gotta go pick those two up. For the time being, just get in the car, Brother!!

[end flashback]

Isaki[thoughts]: Maybe I was too reckless---

Page 21

Isaki [thoguths]: No, but if I let him like that, I'm sure Brother would've gone back...

Isaki [thoughts]: Even so, this atmosphere is so heavy---

Tetsuki: Um.

Tetsuki: Is today perhaps... your day off from work?

Isaki [thougths]: Takaoka-kun...

Chika's Father: No...

Tetsuki: Ah, that means you took a vacation day to come here, then.

Chika's Father [sfx]: Glare...

Tetsuki [thoughts]: Woah

Isaki: Hold on!! You drop that rude attitude towards Takaoka-kun right now, you stupid brother.

Chika's Father: !

Page 22

Isaki: He has always been beside Chika supporting him, and the reason he is able to smile now is because of Takaoka-kun!

Isaki: Instead of glaring at him shouldn't you be thanking him?

Chika's Father: ...I ...See.

Chika's Father: ... ... Sorry...

Tetsuki: Ah, not at all...

Isaki[thoughts]: A man who won't say"Thank you"...

Page 23

Chika's Father: ...Are you also his... friend?

Tetsuki & Isaki: !!

Uzuki: ...No. I'm...

Uzuki: The person who vandalized Chika's Granpa's place and then framed Chika as the culprit.

Tetsuki & Isaki [thoguths]: Geh....!!!!

Page 24

Chika's Father: Wha...

Uzuki: Also, recently, to make Chika look bad, I edited a video where he was helping out a kid from being harassed, posted it on social media, and it became trending.

Tetsuki: He- Hey, Uzuki Are you serious...

Chika's Father: ..Wha

Chika's Father: What... Are you saying...?

Chika's Father: You mean that incident, it wasn't the guys he hung out with---

Isaki: I don't know how many times I've told you, Chika had nothing to do with it.

Chika's Father: But... The fact that he was the cause of it is true, isn't it!?

Isaki: ...Trying to become happy... He grabbed onto Dad's hand, that's all.

Chika's Father: Hu...

Page 25

Uzuki: Fu ...If you had really looked at Chika.

Uzuki: You would have easily known that.

Isaki: Uzuki-kuuun?? You are right, but that is not something you should be saying, is it?

Isaki: You have no right to reproach my brother.

Page 26

Uzuki: ... I'm sorry...

Tetsuki [thoughts]: ...What is this ride from hell... (Second time)

Isaki [thoghts]: I promise I will invite you to eat expensive meat.

[flashback]

Chika's Father: You are a disgrace!!

Chika's Father: In your 3rd year of middle school, and you can't tell the difference between what is right and what is wrong to do!?

Isaki: Wait, Brother! Stop it, we are in front of Dad.

Chika's Father: You stay out of it!

Chika's Father: What's with those eyes. If you have an excuse, then say it

Chika: ...Nah, not really.

Page 27

Chika's Father: What did you say?

Chika: Whatever, I don't care.

Chika [memory]: Dad

Chika[distorted]: D a d...

Page 28

Chika: I don't give a shit about what you think about me anymore.

Chika [memory]: I'm sorry for being born.

[end flashback]

Page 29

Chika's Dad [thoughts]: Even if there is a person right next to me who framed my son for a crime.

Chika's Dad [thoughts]: Even if that person spits sarcasm at me.

Page 30

Chika's Dad [thoughts]: The right to be angry about such a thing.

Chika's Dad [thoughts]: I don't have it.

Sane: I'm glad we can sit together.

Kota: Riight?---

Page 31

Takezou's Mom: Takezou! Takezou!

Takezou: Ah

Chika: Your mom and dad?

Takezou: Yeah...

Chika: Wahaha You look just like your mom!!

Page 32

Assistant: Ichiei High School, you have 10 minutes before leaving.

Kifune-sensei: Yes, thank you. Ok, guys, let's get ready to leave---...

Page 33

Kifune-sensei: Mi...

Luka: Miran, it's time.

Page 34

Akira: If I remember correctly, Ichiei was playing 4th, right?

Suzuka: Yes.

Akira: Um... Did you notice? Ichiei's parts. Before, they---...

Suzuka: Aah, yes.

Program:

Solo - Luka Chevalier

1st Koto - Hoshou Sao

2nd Koto: Hanahata Imari

3rd Koto: Saotome Miran

17-Stringed Koto: Takamura Togo

Suzuka: Apparently, they have no intention of giving up first place this year either.

Side Text: The new interpretation of [Tomfoolery] that Luka and Miran's exchange has sparked is---...

---Kono Oto Tomare! will continue on the next issue!---

#kono oto tomare!#kono oto tomare #kot #sounds of life #stop this sound!#kot!#rough tl #kono oto tomare 128 #kono oto tomare! 128 #kot 128 #kot! 128 #spoilers

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meraki-yao · 3 months

Text

This is a mess of a brain rot

So once upon a time I wrote some ideas of what would happen if we put Nick's characters in a room

Yesterday I was reading a fic from Chinese RWRB fandom where George (Mary & George, Nick) Marco (The Kissing Booth, Taylor), and Tom (The Beneath My Feet, Nick) were side characters and school friends with the daughter oc of the fic

All of them are pre-teens, Tom is an adorable, shy baby, George is the prettiest boy in school and has boys literally falling over their feet for his smile, and Marco is Tom's boyfriend who walks him home and defends him from bullies (as much as a boyfriend as a kid can be)

And I was reminded of a fic series from my other fandom (it's Chinese) where the author basically rounded up the actors' other characters (who kinda had either no chemistry or a shit relationship storyline in their original work), made them housemates, and basically paired them up and created a big cross over rom-com

And I immediately started brainstorming and thinking of an RWRB/ Taylor Nick Universe version of the same concept: Henry as an Eng Lit student and Alex a Law student, Robert (Cinderella, Nick) can be Henry's cousin who's doing a musical theatre degree, Marco, Tom, Johnnie (High Strung, Nick) (and maybe Conor (Handsome Devil, Nick)?) could all be music students, George's whole trajectory maybe can be translating into a sugar daddy situation still with some form of King James, maybe all of Nick's characters are in one apartment complex and all of Taylor's characters neighbouring them etc etc... This whole idea got me so freaking excited

And then a slew of questions flooded my mind: How do I want to do this? Comic? Ask blog? Fic? Bullet point posts? Am I gonna commit to this? Is there even an audience for this? How much bullshit can I come up with?

Also, what the fuck am I gonna do with the characters? I only really know Henry, Alex, Conor, Marco, and maybe Robert, and maybe Timmy. I don't really have the time or the interest to watch all of the boys' filmography (sorry I love the boys with all my heart but I'm a really plot-driven viewer when it comes to shows/movies), what am I gonna do with that? What am I gonna do with shipping? I say this with all the love for Taylor but Nick does have a larger filmography thus more characters than he does, and even just with Marco I have no idea who to pair him up with because there are so many possible good ship dynamics but I prefer just sticking to one ship? What the fuck?

Yeah I don't fucking know if there's a point I'm trying to make or a conclusion I'm trying to reach but here ya go Welcome to the mess that is my mind

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #taylor zakhar perez #nicholas galitzine #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #henry hanover stuart fox #firstprince #marco peña #tom heath #george villiers #meraki fic #maybe?#rwrb rambles #I have no idea what the fuck this is at this point #it's half part midnight i'm delirious and depress and this is keeping me alive lmao #oh yeah Hayes was also in the fic but he was just mentioned and his setting is pretty much the same

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laheysdork · 2 years

Text

strangers - stiles stilinski

summary: you decided that he’s a stranger to you a long time ago, but what if tragedy strikes and the only person that could help you is him?

word count: 4.8k

warnings: cursing, fights, angst, slight fluff, vomit?, a little violence

a/n: so sorry i have been mia for months, i moved out and am finally living (as in not being stuck in my room all the time) i have this enemies-to-lovers fic siting for the longest time in my draft so hope yall like it! the italic bolded ones are flashbacks in case it gets pretty confusing. and i would like to apologize beforehand 🤠

masterlist

Strangers—they’re not always the people we don’t know. Some of them can be by choice, someone we chose to forget.

Sighing at the thought of another dreadful day at school, you drag your feet towards your first class. Your muscle memory kicking in, you pick the seat at the back corner, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible as you wish you can hide under a huge invisible cloak. After dumping your bag onto the floor next to the table, your body lazily sinks into the chair. Shuffling inside the pocket of your hoodie, you take out your phone and click it on, looking at the time.

7.50 A.M.

For once, you are early. Class starts at 8, so you have an extra 10 minutes to waste. As you begin to think about ways to kill the time, you hear two familiar voices growing louder as they enter the class.

You know those voices by heart. The voices that would always cheer you up when you were sad, the voices that continuously came up with jokes every day, but also the same voices that have shattered the only living soul you have left. How could one bring so much joy but also pain?

“Come on, Stiles. Star Wars? Again? Don’t you have any other movies to watch for our weekly movie nights?” you grumbled irritatedly.

“Last week, Scott picked some lame-ass rom-com and forced us to sit through it so this week it’s MY turn for revenge.” He emphasized the ‘my’ and crossed his arms across his chest, smirking at the thought of his genius evil plan.

“Fine, but next week I’m making you watch Spiderman.”

His curled lips dropped flat instantly. “Spiderman? Y/N, you know I am a DC man. Why would you do this to me?” he whined in disbelief which earned a maniacal laugh from you.

“Well, as you said before Stilinski, that is MY turn for revenge.”

Losing yourself in your thoughts, 10 minutes have long passed as the coach abruptly enters the classroom.

“This is the right class, right? Yeah, I think so.” He mumbles to himself as he places his stuff onto the teacher’s desk and clears his throat.

“Since I’m busy today, you will be doing a pair project.”

And the class goes wild.

“Hey, shut up. I’m not done yet.” Coach yells which gradually silences the class.

“Before all of you got too happy, I will be picking the pairs. Some of you depended on other students too much and that is not good.” He shakes his head, trailing off the subject.

“So, uhm, I’m just going to write the pairs on the board and the instructions. While I’m at it, please for the love of God shut your mouth.”

You are surprised. As a generally unlucky person, today doesn’t seem so bad. You won’t have to sit through coach’s lectures for 2 periods, which you consider as a total win.

However, your triumph does not last long as the words written messily on the board haunt you.

Pair 3: Y/F/N Y/L/N, Stiles Stilinski

Fuck-

“Okay, so all you have to do is collect some general information regarding the market structures and make a mind map. Simple. Now, huddle up with your buddies and get to work.”

Even after everyone starts grouping up with their partners, you are still slumped in the corner, not having any sort of will or energy left to interact with Stiles Stilinski.

Thankfully (or not), Stiles decides to make the first move, his silhouette towering your sitting figure. As you strictly look at your phone, a loud screech filled your ears, Stiles noisily dragging a vacant chair next to your table.

“Y/N,” he called in a tone you can’t quite comprehend.

God.

“Yeah,” you replied bluntly, glancing up.

“I- um, I wanted to say-“

“Sorry, what? I can’t hear you.”

In fact, you actually can. Hell, you even know what he’s about to say. But you do not brace yourself for this. You can barely look at him, let alone talk to him.

“Hey, movie night at 7?” You nudged on Stiles' arms, startling him, busy going through a bunch of papers on his desk.

“Uhh, no. I’m busy tonight.” He glanced to you for a second then proceeds to occupy himself.

“Okay, how about tomorrow?”

Missing your best friends, you were determined to get the band back together. Stiles and Scott had been exceptionally busy for the past few days and you were not quite sure why.

At first, you thought maybe it had something to do with the new girl, Allison. Scott seemed to be all over her. But then there was that creepy peculiar guy, Derek, who was borderline stalking them. They started to ditch you alone, running off to some secret mission, and you were tired of it. Why were they keeping it from you? Did they not trust you enough?

“Also busy,” he muttered, his focus still fully on the pile of paper. Your mouth gaped to come up with something that would get them to spend time with you but was interrupted by the ringing of the bell. In a flash, Stiles stood up, aimlessly gathering his papers, and zoomed out of the class, leaving your deadpanned state unattended.

From the widely-opened door, you could see Stiles rushing over to Scott. He told Scott something inaudible unless you got some sort of super-hearing, but from the look on Scott’s face, it must’ve been urgently distressing. Both of them bolted out of the school together without you, once again.

“I’ll do the monopoly and monopolistic competition and you do perfect competition and oligopoly. I’ll draw the mind map after school,” you state clearly and monotonously, wanting to quickly get this over with.

“Y/N, I-“

“Is it unclear?” you snap, rather cold.

“No, but-“

“Okay, then. You better start reading.” You heavily lift your book out of the bag and drop it on top of your table.

“What the hell just happened? Scott? Stiles?”

Your quizzical eyes darted waveringly between the two jittery boys, confused and infuriated.

Earlier, the boys had invited you, Allison, Lydia, and Jackson to come over and study. For a while there, you were hopeful. You thought that this small gathering could be a step closer to things going back to how it was, but displeasingly, you were absolutely mistaken.

“I don’t know, it’s-“

“What kind of lie are you coming up with now huh, Stiles? I know you know something!” you confronted.

“Y/N, we didn’t-“

“Oh, you think I didn’t notice? That guy Derek? Then both of you suddenly went M.I.A for days? And don’t get me started with the ‘Sorry, Deaton needs me at the clinic’ or ‘Sorry, my dad called me, gotta go’. We’ve been friends since we were 10 for fucks sake!”

Gladly the three of you were left alone because you were furiously shouting at this point. Allison offered to drive Lydia home the moment she sensed the unnerving tension between the three of you.

“And now, even after whatever that thing is just almost killed us, you still think I don’t deserve to know the truth?”

You shot the two boys death glares through your teary eyes which they actively try to avoid. They looked miserably guilty, something you currently want them to feel.

“You know what, I’m done. Don’t bother chasing after me to explain. I can just ask Allison.” And with that bitter statement, you left the two stunned boys standing frozen on the front porch.

Both of you are quietly reading through the materials and highlighting the key points. You silently thank Stiles for not trying to initiate another awkward conversation, which probably is caused by your previous intimidation.

Luckily, time seems to fly as the bell rings, indicating the end of the class. Not wanting to spend another second in this hellhole, you immediately left the class.

Following that incident, Stiles and Scott tried to reach you for days. Your phone would constantly light up once every few hours with either Scott’s or Stiles’ name lighting up the lockscreen.

After a week or so, the calls eventually came to a halt. You were relieved the ongoing calls that you have convinced yourself were bothering you stopped. But deep down all those denials, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that they gave up on you so effortlessly.

At the same time, you couldn’t blame them either. You were pretty ruthless.

Things never went back to normal. You avoided them at all cost, stop sitting at their table, vowing to never speak to them ever again.

You knew that keeping grudges would eventually hurt you more than it should but you were headstrong.

They did not trust you. They lied to you. They have made their bed and now you’re just simply letting them sleep on it.

However, this didn’t stop you from being attentive towards them. From time to time, you tried to keep tabs on them by checking in with Allison. But that was until she passed away.

The news left you completely devastated and heartbroken. Even though you were not on good terms with Scott and Stiles, you were still close with Allison.

She was your best friend. She patiently supported you through the heartache of losing your two best friends, she taught you how to stand strong independently, she gave you hope on the brighter days that had yet to come, but most importantly, she trusted you when Scott and Stiles didn’t.

You were also aware of the whole void situation, which pained you more than you thought it would. The thought of the vibrant, eccentric Stiles going through unspeakable agony and remorse wrecked you.

During Allison’s funeral, you decided that letting your distant facade down just for a day to console the pack won’t kill you.

Approaching them after the reception, a surprised look was painted on each of their faces, especially Scott and Stiles. You gave your condolences to everyone and hugged Stiles and Scott, something you haven’t done in ages. Their bodies stiffen from your unexpected action, but soon they melt into the hug and cling onto you tightly, finally accepting that you were really embracing them.

After pulling apart, you excused Scott to give you and Stiles a moment alone.

“Stiles, I know you’re thinking that this is your fault but listen to me, it is not. You were not in control. You were not you. You did not do this.”

Upon hearing comforting words from his long-lost friend, he let out an excruciating sob. Instinctively, you pulled him into your embrace once again as he squeezed you tighter.

You might not be able to forgive him yet but at least you could be there with him through this disastrous nightmare.

The whole day, you try to steer clear of Stiles or the pack. You know he’s trying to get a hold of you, probably wanting to discuss the unfinished project; but we don’t need to add more to the plate, don’t we?

Once school ended, you quickly rush home. From a distance, you can hear Stiles call out your name. But being the excellent evader you claim to be, you ignore them.

Just as you think the day can’t get any worse, the doorbell in your house chimes, indicating a guest present on your doorsteps. You sigh, knowing who is standing behind that door and this time you can’t dodge it.

So much for being an excellent evader.

“What?” you ask, getting straight to the point.

“We haven’t finished our project. I want to help you do the mind map.” He stares at you innocently, fumbling with his hands.

After all these years and he still got those puppy eyes.

“It’s fine, I can do it myself.” You try closing the door but he beats you to it.

“Come on, Y/N. I don’t want you ratting me out to Coach for forced labor, so please just let me in and we’ll work on it together,” he whines, hand still holding the door open.

Even after everything, you still can’t bring yourself to decline him. You have always had a soft spot for Stiles, which you are planning to terminate because it is starting to be troublesome.

“Fine,” you grunt in defeat.

A favorable grin is plastered on his face as he steps into your house.

Things seemed to change after Allison’s death. You noticed fresh faces joining the pack while familiar ones went away.

But out of the several new members, one had caught your eye the most. Her name’s Malia if you’re not mistaken; a snarky brunette, who’s built like a model too by the way.

From what you could tell from the persistent PDA, she was dating Stiles. Yeah, you weren’t exactly in a position to have a say on it, but you were getting real sketchy vibes from her, or so you thought.

“Stiles, you’re still coming over right?” you heard Malia speak to your ex-best friend as you opened your locker across from them.

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll teach you maths too since you’re so bad at it.” You tried not to overhear their conversation but you just couldn’t help it.

“Thanks. You’re the best!” she cried out as she treaded away from Stiles, a pang striking your chest.

Maybe, you’re just slightly jealous.

Okay, slightly was an understatement.

It seemed like you’re still unable to completely erase your suppressed attraction towards him, even when clearly he had.

To minimize any sort of unnecessary interaction, you try to fully put your focus on the project—which works. For the past 15 minutes, the two of you are settled in your living room in silence, minding your own business.

At least until Stiles decides to be clumsy and drop his plastic cup, water spilling all over the floor. You roll your eyes and grab a cloth from the kitchen to clean up the mess.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he curses under his breath as you are drying up the floor.

“It’s fine.”

No actually, it’s not. This situation right here is not fine. You’ve had the shittiest day at school and to make it even worse, Stiles decides to show up uninvitedly at your house which is supposedly your only stress-free zone.

“I’ll help you clean it up.” He squats down, trying to get the cloth from your grip.

“No, you don’t have to.” You don’t want him to cause any more inconvenience, even though you know very well he doesn’t mean it.

“I want to help Y/N, I-“

“What, Stiles? You want to help? Then please for the love of God, leave me alone!” You stand up and snap at him, a bit too loudly. You feel bad for being too hard on him when he’s only trying to help, but you’re unable to extinguish your growing anger.

He straightens up, his once warm face turn into an enraged frown.

“Is this still about what happened back then? Fuck, Y/N. I’ve said sorry, Scott has, thousands of times. But you still don’t want to forgive us. So tell me now Y/N, what should I do, huh?”

The sudden increase in his volume catch you by surprise. He has always been so radiant and carefree, you have never seen him this mad. But despite that, the rage inside of you still does not subdue.

You let out a humorless chuckle.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Stiles. You think that I get to choose not to forgive you, that I’m the evil one and maybe I am at some point. But don’t you dare pull the victim card here.”

Your sight becomes blurry as your eyes start to sting from all the overwhelming emotions but you can care less.

“You lied to me. You left me alone, confused, scared, even after knowing very well how my mom lied to me about my father abandoning me. You know how much I relied on you and Scott, but you still broke my trust. You hurt me. And you think a bunch of “sorry”s will immediately fix that? It’s not that simple, Stiles.”

You’re not screaming as loud as you did before. The tone of your voice softens as a new emotion takes control over your body—pain.

Frustrated, Stiles rummages through his hair while letting out a scoff.

“But it’s not just a bunch of “sorry”s isn’t it? We kept on calling you after that day. We tried approaching you at school. Fuck, I even tried to be nice to you earlier today. But guess what I got in return? Another silent treatment. Why can’t you just fucking move on already? You’re being too overdramatic. No wonder your mom lied to you.”

Bang. His words hit you like a bullet, piercing right through your heart.

Your once agape mouth closes shut, your furrowed eyebrows straighten. Stiles has crossed the line this time.

“Get out,” you spat, emotionless.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean to-“

“I SAID GET OUT, STILES,” you yell at the top of your lungs, frightening him. With horror painted all over his face, he immediately picks up his bag and exits your house, too frightened to say anything else.

As the door shuts, more tears start to flow down your cheeks. You are exhausted. Today’s fiascos have drained every ounce of energy you have left, leaving you like a corpse.

After getting your lifeless, sickly self to shower, you directly plop into your bed, curling yourself in the soft quilt of your blanket. Needing an escape from this dreadful reality, you flutter your eyes shut, instantaneously falling asleep.

You wake up to your accustomed alarm, growling at the blaring sound you set. Finally having enough will to get out of bed, you head to your bathroom.

Turning on the lights, your reflection in the mirror stares back at you.

Gosh, you look dead.

Your skin is as pale as a sheet, your eyes are puffy with prominent dark circles forming under them, your hair is messy and icky. You feel disgustingly terrible.

Dabbing a whole lot of concealer on your skin, you get ready for school; deciding to put whatever catastrophe that had happened yesterday behind you.

Fortunately, you only have one class with Stiles for the day. The day goes by pretty fast and to your delight, pretty decent too, probably because you spend a few periods in the infirmary.

But again, the universe seems to find so much pleasure in inflicting pain on you.

Midway through the class, a sharp sting strikes your head. Interrupting Mr. Yukimura, you excuse yourself to leave the class.

As you reach the empty halls, you feel an eerie sensation creeping all over your body. Alarmed for some reason you don’t know, you scan the halls hastily. You can see nothing, but you do hear something. A bug-like, rattling noise gradually fills your ears, followed by a raspy, unearthly wheeze.

What the fuck is happening?

You’re shivering, cold sweats covering your body. Not being able to stand the unknown terrors, you abruptly sprint to the vacant locker room.

Bad idea. Should’ve picked a more crowded room.

Securing yourself in a room alone definitely does not make you feel any safer. The rattling has stopped but the ominous feeling only grew more prominent.

You are about to escape before sudden nausea hits you. Before you knew it, your knees drop to the floor, your throat retching, vomiting a slimy, ink-like substance.

Now you are horrified.

The door to the locker room flies open, showing two familiar figures. Their eyes find your unusually glowing whiskey-colored ones.

“Fuck, she’s one of them,” Stiles spoke, eyes fixated only on you.

Scott rushes over to you as Stiles stands still, trying to let the sight in front of him sink in. While bracing your fragile body to a steady sitting position, Scott checks in on you with a few “are you okay?”s to which you shake your head.

“What is happening to me, Scott?” you question, panic in your eyes.

After hearing a very complicated and detailed explanation about chimeras and the dread doctors, you are left speechless in front of all the members of the pack who came running right away at the bad news a while ago when you were still seated frozen in a shocked haze.

“Okay so, let me summarize everything,” you mutter so softly to the point it sounds like a whisper while standing up, Stiles hands instinctively finding your body to support you.

“I am a chimera, which is a scientifically-made supernatural creature. The dread doctors, the psychos who are behind this, are going to take me away,” you enunciate to the pack—more like to yourself—to prove your understanding of the matter in which Scott nods in return.

He then tries to come up with a plan to save you from being taken, but you’re not really listening.

Even though you look composed, you are actually on edge, occasionally convincing yourself that everything is under control.

From the very little you heard, basically, they plan on keeping you here in the locker room for the rest of the day—something to do with the telluric currents.

After the plan is finalized, everyone departs for their appointed roles, leaving only one person behind to watch over you.

Out of everyone in the pack, why him?

“I have a spare shirt in my locker, do you maybe want to change into them?” Stiles pointed to your now stained white T-shirt.

You are about to refuse the boy’s offer but looking at the matching black splatter on your shirt and the floor makes you feel queasy, so you comply.

“Okay, we’ll go to the boy’s locker room and leave this mess here.”

“We should clean it-“

“No, you’re not in the state to do any work. I’ll ask someone to clean it up later.” He grabs your arm and leads you out the door to the boy’s locker room, which is no different than the girl’s, pretty disappointing.

Stiles rummages his locker for a second before handing his grey shirt to you.

You stare at him, waiting for him to give you some privacy to change your clothes. But it seems like he isn’t getting the memo.

“What?” he blurts so blatantly as you sigh in return.

Oh God has he always been this slow?

“Are you planning on cheating on Malia? Because I’m about to change here and unless you’re blind, you’re going to have to see me pretty much naked.” His jaw drops at your snarky remark. His face growing warmer as it’s tinted with a crimson color.

“O-Oh yeah, of course. I’m no longer dating Malia though but uhh that’s not important. I’ll turn around- Or do you want me to leave the room? I can do that.” He fidgeted, totally taken aback and flustered.

“Don’t leave me alone, please. Just turn around.”

Both of you are astonished by your statement. But it’s the truth. Alone, you were petrified. At least being with Stiles makes you feel a little more secure.

Just a day ago you were shouting for him to leave, but now you practically begged him to stay. How ironic.

After you have changed into his cozy oversized shirt which for the record smells like his aftershave that you liked, you keep away your dirty shirt, sit on the bench beside him, and thank him.

Once again, silence befalls the both of you. The air between you two today has somehow shifted from yesterday. It’s still thick and tensed, but not full of rage and resentment.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he mutters after a while with his head low.

“Stiles-“

“No, I have to say it. You were right. I was so stupid. I should have never blamed you for not being able to trust me. I’ve hurt you, Y/N, and I deserve this.” His regretful honey eyes are fixed deeply into yours.

Despite the guilt building up inside your body, you do not reply to him straight away. You need time to process this.

Are you still mad at him? Yes. But do you feel bad for being mean towards him? Also yes.

As you are contemplating, the door to the locker room swings open, revealing Scott and the others.

Liam is clutching a large navy duffel bag in his hand, its contents still a mystery to you. Lydia and a man who you aren’t familiar with are carrying a bunch of radio transmitters. Malia is holding a steel bat, which later on is passed over to Stiles.

Once they are all inside, they start to get busy. Lydia, Stiles, and the guy—Parrish, according to what you heard the pack calls him—go around the room, placing the equipment all over it. Malia and Liam are near the door, pushing the shelves to cover all the exits except the main one. And Scott is hovering over the duffel bag which was placed earlier on the bench across you.

He slowly zips the bag open, inspecting it. Being your inquisitive self, you lift your head up to get a better view. But before you get a sight of anything, Scott zips it back close and takes it with him.

After everyone’s done with their designated tasks, they all gather to form a small circle, yourself included.

“Okay, Lydia and Parrish, you two stay in the car outside. Malia and Liam, stand by in the halls. Me, Stiles, and Y/N will stay here. Got it?” Scott instructs clearly to which everybody nods and proceed to their assigned areas.

All of them seem so prepared as if they are properly equipped for battle, except you.

Minutes have passed as there is no sign of the dread doctors. You are sitting quietly on the bench, fumbling with your fingers as Stiles and Scott pace around the room.

Your eyes darted from the two mobile boys to the duffel bag resting on the bench in front of you. Now, you’re curious.

When Scott isn’t looking, you swiftly slide to the opposite bench and zip the bag open, uncovering a bunch of weighty chains.

“What are these for?” Your voice echoes through the noiseless room, earning glances from them both.

“I brought them, just in case.” Scott moves closer to where you are.

“In case of what?” You don’t quite understand what he is implying.

“In case we have a chance to catch one of them,” Scott answered composedly.

“What?” Stiles snaps from behind Scott.

“If we can’t make the school a fortress, maybe we can make it a trap.” Scott’s attempt to explain to the two of you only receives a scoff of disbelief from Stiles.

“And you’re making her the bait?” he questions sharply.

“That’s not what I said-“

“Yeah, right.” Stiles rolls his eyes as Scott glances over to you, an apologetic look plastered on his face.

You don’t know what to feel about this situation. Yes, you are hurt that Scott possibly considered you as bait. But rationally, he does have a point. At the same time, you are also impressed at Stiles' initiative to immediately defend you.

“Wait a minute, I hear something. I’ll go out and check it. You two stay here.” Before any of you can protest, Scott fleets out of the room.

And then there’s two. Awkward silence once again engulfs the two of you. But this time, you’re the one who breaks it.

“Thank you, for defending me,” you utter gently as he sat beside you.

“Of course, Y/N. Always. I will always protect you.” He grasps your hands into his, giving you a reassuring smile, relieved that you finally drop your cold exterior.

The long-awaited moment of truce you two are sharing is sadly interrupted by the familiar rattling noise that unexpectedly appeared, causing you to stand up, followed by Stiles.

“Stiles, I hear them,” you quiver, fear rushing through your body.

“Me too. Hey, Scott?” He forms a half-circle using his palms, cupping them around this mouth. He continues to call out his best friend’s name a few more times before he retreats.

“Where the fuck is he?” Exasperated and worried, he restlessly gazes around the room.

“They’re coming, Stiles.” Feeling hopeless and discouraged, you put your hand on his shoulder, trying to calm his agitated body. You have accepted your fate. They’re taking you away.

“No, I’m not letting them take you.” His hands caress the sides of your arms, tears forming in his eyes.

“They will.” Your palms cup his face, thumb wiping away the warm teardrops streaming down his cheeks.

Mirroring your actions, he also cups your cheeks, staring at the little details of your face, memorizing them like it’s the last time he’ll get to be close to you.

Then he tilts his head and leans closer, shutting the distance between your lips. Fluttering your previously widened eyes shut, your lips passionately brushed along his plump ones as your hands fall from his cheeks to his chest, heart pounding loudly, warmth radiating throughout your body.

Just as he initiated it, he pulls away, honey eyes never leaving yours.

“I will find you, okay?” You nod as shadows appear behind Stiles’ figure.

The dread doctors.

He also sensed their presence as he immediately snatches his bat from the bench. He commands you to stay behind him which you obey.

Cowering behind Stiles’ figure, they have the two of you cornered and helpless. He tightens his grip and aggressively swings his bat at one of them but to no avail. Inching closer, they shove him away, grabbing a hold of both your arms.

You’re hysterically crying out for help, vigorously attempting to break free. Forcefully holding you still, they jab a sharp needle to the side of your neck as your limp body dropped to the ground. Your vision turns dark, the last thing you see is Stiles’ unconscious body lying in front of you.

1K notes · View notes

digital-chance · 9 months

Text

writeblr intro

hey i'm chance! i've done a writeblr intro recently but i didn't like it, so this is take 2. here's the old one.

─── about me -⋆⋅☆

name : chance

pronouns : they/he

likes : cyberpunk, romance, anime, kpop, music, history, design

age : 20

i tend to swear both on here and in my writing, so if you're sensitive to that, i don't think my blog or work is for you. i also use the word 'queer' a lot since i self-identify as such, when i do choose to self-identify.

i'm interested in so much, which would be impossible to fully state. there are so many new things out there and i love learning about them all!! this blog is mainly for writing but i'm not strict on that.

i also am pretty sure i'm neurodivergent (no diagnosis or anything yet) and tend to delve into hyper-fixations for weeks at a time. if i haven't posted for a while, it's probably because of one of my other hyper-fixations or school.

i'm going to college for my bachelor's in graphic design, which might make my responses during the school year delayed.

i'm always open to ask or tag games!! it might take me a few to respond but i'll respond.

─── writing -⋆⋅☆

you'll find a lot of diverse characters, the found/chosen family trope, romance or rom-com, angst, and references to actual history or historical events within my work. sometimes i throw in a little art fact since i'm an art student. in nearly every one of my works you can find a prominent lgbtq+ character, too.

i write for original works and fanfiction alike. i often alternate what project i'm writing on and tend to leave wips unfinished. there's no one specific fandom that i'm in since i tend to dabble in everything.

i enjoy reading all sorts of stories, but some of the tropes and genres that have a special place in my heart include:

[ genres : romance . action . sci-fi . dystopian . heists . cyberpunk . horror . comedy . mystery ] [ tropes : friends to lovers , enemies to lovers , fake/pretend relationship , college au , coffee shop au , domestic , fluff , angst ]

─── ⋆ looking for ⋆⋅☆

more writers to follow!

good vibes & friends

writing advice & critique buddies (will help critique ur work too)

─── works in progress -⋆⋅☆

nova futurum | original work | #wip: nova futurum

─── ⋆ status : brainstorming

a lgbtq+ mafia cyberpunk story with the working title "Nova Futurum." i've got the general information down and i'm currently working on fleshing out my main characters. for now it's in the very basic stages, but feel free to ask me about it or give any tips!

you still would've been mine | fanfiction | #wip: yswbm

─── ⋆ status : outlining, research, & writing draft 1

Steven "Steve" Rogers wakes up in the 21st century after crashing into the ice in 1942, leaving behind his life as the mascot of the USA along with his childhood in Brooklyn NYC. The Winter Soldier, a man left behind in the war recovers his memories as the man known as James "Bucky" Buchanan Barnes after meeting Steve in the modern time. Steve and Bucky recall their childhood and their experience in the war as they recover.

matchbreakers | original work | #wip: match

─── ⋆ status : brainstorming

xavier works at match breakers. instead of setting people up on blind dates, he goes to dates and breaks up the couple. all sorts of people hire him, disapproving parents, jealous ex's, and those scared to see their ex's angry side. what he doesn't expect is falling in love with one of his own clients.

scars of duty | original work | #wip: sod

─── ⋆ status : plotting

Lucian is a hero who protects the city of Haines and the other members of his hero's league. They're a small-name hero just trying to make do with what they've got. A villain new to the city shows up and shakes Lucian’s perception of their own superpowers and the world.

< tag lists: if you'd like to be added for any project, let me know. i'm not the greatest at remembering the tag list but i will try! >

─── ⋆ more of my socials & my design portfolio

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centipedelightning · 1 year

Text

lightning strikes

Underfell!Papyrus x gn!Reader || written platonic; can be read as romantic

cw/tw: underfell typical violence, the vaguest mention of death, negative self-thought || angst and fluff

Uhhh, reverse comfort for Edge who is scared of thunderstorms. This took so long to publish lord. For the record, I am back at school so any writing I do will be kept to the weekends. Trying to get a job at the college archives so that would theoretically take up a decent amount of my time during the week. N E ways,,,, written platonic bc there's not enough of that out there, but just know that Edge is my babygirl.

Words: 1270

It's pouring outside. The kind of pouring that would soak you to the bone in a minute flat. And with heavy rain, comes the loud crash of thunder.

You walk into your living room and see a very tall skeleton on the couch. Edge called you and told asked you to hang out. So here you are... hanging out...

You were getting something out of your room before the ‘hang out’ officially started. As you walked back into the living room you saw him definitely not relaxing. You’d make some kind of stiff-as-a-corpse joke if the sheer tenseness of his posture wasn’t so concerning. Edge is barely even sitting on the couch, poised stiffly at the edge of the cushion clearly trying not to bolt.

“Hey Edge, what’s uh…. What’s up man?”

“NOTHING. THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING UP WITH ME. IN FACT I AM DOWN. THERE IS MUCH DOWN WITH ME”

“…”

“You committing to that?”

“YES…. YES I AM.”

“Alright,” best not to question it, “then do you want to watch a movie or something? I think that new MTT romance j-“

As you were talking there was a bright flash and a loud boom of thunder. You saw Edge flinch, hard. That’s deeply concerning. Hell, judging by the claw marks on the armrest, that's very concerning.

Wait, no your poor couch.

“Ok listen. Edge, my love, what’s wrong? And don’t give me shit.”

“I SAID IT IS NOTHING HUMAN,” clap of thunder, flinch, “AND. AND I- AND I DO NOT NEED YOUR ASSISTANCE.”

“Mhm... Right, then can I sit next to you?” He can be a garbage liar sometimes.

“YES OF COURSE. THIS IS A HANGOUT AND SITTING NEXT TO EACH OTHER IS STEP TWELVE IN MY HANGING OUT MANUAL™.”

You're gonna dig the issue out of him. He knows it too. You walk over and plop down next to him. Once you're close enough you realize that his bones are chattering. Has he realized? You aren't sure.

"So what do you want to watch?" Thunder, lighting, flinch.

"ANYTHING IS FINE! THE TERRIBLE EDGE HAS NO PREFERENCE!" Stars, he's compensating right now.

"Edge. I am begging you to talk to me. You're chattering."

"I AM NOT 'CHATTERING'... OKAY, MAYBE I AM. THIS PROVES NOTHING AND IS OF NO IMPORTANCE"

He makes things so hard sometimes. Time to get creative.

"Edge."

"WHAT IS IT NOW HUMAN, DON'T YOU WANT TO WATCH MTT AND HANG OUT?"

"I'm scared of thunder." Wait that delivery was awful he's not gonna believe it.

"WELL OF COUR-," the claps of thunder are getting more frequent, "COURSE YOU ARE! HUMANS ARE- ARE PUNY! AND FEARFUL! AND WEAK!"

He also makes things so easy sometimes.

"Would you do me a favor and help me out then? Can you tell me what you would want if, hypothetically, you were afraid of storms?"

"IF I? WELL IF I WAS, HYPOTHETICALLY, AFRAID OF THESE GHASTLY STORMS, WHICH I AM NOT, I THINK I WOULD LIKE TO BE HELD. BUT CLEARLY, I DON'T NEED THAT, BECAUSE I AM NOT AFRAID OF STORMS." There were at least three flinches and a stutter or two during that whole shpiel. The storm outside sounds like it getting pretty bad. Time to work fast.

"Wow," wait you're trying to sell having a phobia, put more oomph into it, "that does sound helpful! Can we try it then? Here I'll lay back, just hand me that pillow." With a blend of pained, relieved, and a bit humiliated look, Edge dislodges his claws from your couch (I hope you know how to reupholster) and grabs the pillows. He tosses them over to you with a bit too much power.

"Ow. thanks man." You lay back and get yourself comfortable. Once you are in the primary position to cuddle with Edge and watch the t.v., you gesture for him to lie down with you.

"IF YOU THINK THIS WILL HELP-," thunder, "HELP- HELP YOU." He couldn't be stiffer but does manage to get horizontal. Once he gets situated, you flip down the blanket from the back of the couch onto the two of you. You can feel him still rattling a bit.

"Hey."

"HEY?"

"Can I touch you?"

"YOU ARE TOUCHING ME HUMAN." You feel the slightest smile on your chest.

"Fair enough," what a pain, "can I gently rub your skull? To self-soothe of course."

"TO SELF-SOOTHE YOURSELF, YES MAKES SENSE. I WILL ALLOW YOU TO RUB MY SKULL FOR YOUR OWN COMFORT AND NOT MINE."

Once he gave the okay, you started to lightly stroke the back of his skull with your fingertips. You want to keep it barely there until he stops chattering as badly as he is. Slowly he stills. You both lay in the dim room listening to the storm pass by. As the quiet moments continue, you feel Edge flinching less and less when the thunder booms"

"Hey."

"HEY."

"Do you want to talk about it yet"

"HYPOTHETICALLY, I MIGHT, POTENTIALLY WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS THEORETICAL 'IT'."

"I say this with love but you are such a pain sometimes."

"NYEH-HEH PERHAPS. BUT... YES, I AM WILLING TO TELL YOU WHY I AM SO WORKED UP AND CHATTERING LIKE A BABYBONES." You hum and let him continue.

"THE UNDERGROUND WAS NOT A NICE PLACE, THIS IS COMMON KNOWLEDGE. WHAT IS LESS DISCUSSED IS THE ENVIRONMENT. WE MONSTERS LIVED UNDERGROUND, IN A LARGE CAVE UNDERNEATH AN EVEN LARGER MOUNTAIN. WE HAD VERY UNIQUE WEATHER BECAUSE OF IT. ONE OF THESE UNIQUE OCCURRENCES WAS CAVE-INS AND SKY FALLS. STARS THE SOUND." Edge coiled a bit as he said it.

"THE SOUND OF CEILING OR WALLS CRACKING WAS SO LOUD. THE SOUNDS OF THESE STORMS ARE SO LOUD. HEARING THE CRACKS MEANT HALF THE UNDERGROUND HAD TO FLEE INTO THE SAFEST PLACES THEY COULD FIND. MY BROTHER AND I WERE LUCKY ENOUGH TO HAVE A FINISHED AND REINFORCED BASEMENT, BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN WE COULDN'T HAVE LOST OUR HOUSE TO A FALLING ROCK." He readjusted himself and wrapped his arms around you, head on your chest to listen to your heartbeat.

"IT- IT WAS TERRIBLE. IT ONLY GOT WORSE AS MORE PEOPLE YOU KNEW, MORE PEOPLE YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT-" He's clinging to you so desperately, like a child to their toy.

"Hey Edge, you don't need to keep talking. It's okay."

"THERE WAS NEVER ANY GOOD TO COME FROM THIS LOUDNESS."

"That must have been awful. But can I ask you something?" He nods.

"Did you try? When you were able I mean, did you ever try to help just one person?" He takes a second and nods again.

"Then you did your job. Environmental tragedies can't be helped Edge. They can't be stopped and a lot of the time they barely can be predicted. If you helped even one person the whole time you were underground, you did your job."

"YES BUT THE PEOPLE I DIDN'T HELP-"

"Couldn't be helped. You are not a bad person. I haven't known you for that long, but I do know that you are a good person that wants to do good deeds. I believe, with my heart and soul, that for anyone you might not have helped, you had a reason. It might have been cowardly or for your own self-interest, but I believe you had a genuine reason for not stepping in sometimes." He's quiet. And still. Crap, did you overstep? You probably said something wrong and upset him more-

"THANK YOU." It was a statement barely spoken above a whisper.

#sorry yall i dont want to proof read #i might come back later #Underfell papyrus x reader #•centipede writes•#papyrus x reader #papyrus x you #uf!papyrus x reader #underfell papyrus x you #uf!papyrus x you #underfell papyrus #underfell #undertale x reader #undertale imagines #undertale scenarios #underfell x reader #uf!papyrus

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honey-flustered · 1 year

Text

Cruel Little Vixen 7

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Journalist!Reader

Summary: The universe continues to teach you and Eddie some important lessons. Tensions rise when the world becomes aware of the rockstar’s girl. And top it all off, you and Eddie are forced to make an important decision regarding your relationship.

NO READ MORE LINE BREAK ADDED DUE TO GLITCH

A/N: It’s been a tough ass road, but I’m back. I’ve experienced challenges with the last two parts of my story being deleted and having to start over, my mental health’s hung by a fucking thread, I’ve been anxious to post because I feel like my work’s not good enough but ya know what I love writing and it keeps me happy! The series is coming to an end. Just one more part (tried making this the last one but the ending’s too damn long). I cannot wait to finish this because I’ve had so many fic ideas I’ve been meaning to share. I wanna complete requests and ask for some of yall ideas or whatever. I just want to have some fun with this. Any this chapter’s filled with slight rom com elements and tropes. It’s definitely a healing experience for both reader and Eddie. Especially Eddie. It’s a wild ride so please enjoy! Also Happy New Years! 🥳

>>>>>Series Masterlist Part 7 of 8

Word Count: 10.8k

Warnings: overload of fluff and 🌽, heavy flirting, idiots in love, airplane jokes, some angst, brief blood and violence, talks of negligent parents and juvenile detention, hinted abuse of a minor character, smutty smut, kissing/making out, fingering, squirting, handjob, light dirty talk, nipple play, mile high club activities, graphic language, Eddie loves drinking his respect women juice

2 years ago…

“We’re Corroded Coffin and we’re the band your parents wished you never listened to! 2, 3, 4!” Eddie shouts into the mic, counting in time to Gareth’s drumstick taps. The drums to Aerosmith’s “Walk This Way” are the first to make its noise before the familiar guitar riff picks up after it.

Then, he sings and the crowd’s loving it.

The former nightclub bartender and now manager of Corroded Coffin, Eugene Neds, spotted great potential in the enigma that was Eddie Munson that night. In a band of 19-year-olds passing off as 21 to perform at a venue much too risqué for kids their age, the man only had eyes for the lead guitarist/singer. Eddie was going to be a star, he was sure of it. Eugene just needed to make sure that he would be the one to make it happen.

The music cuts abruptly. “Hey, asshole! Leave her the fuck alone, alright.” Eddie shouts on the mic, pointing over at the bar. The spotlight lands on the inebriated giant of a man towering over a visibly uncomfortable woman.

“Why don’t you mind your goddamn business?” The large man slurs.

“I’m not so sure it’s your business either, man. She wants absolutely nothing to do with you.” Eddie hops off stage, approaching the man as if he were David in Goliath’s presence.

At that moment, Eddie realized he was tired of running, tired of bullies, and tired of being picked on for being different. Those days have been laid to rest along with all his grievances of high school. The man had since gained the grit needed to face danger head on. It was the day he reclaimed the title, ‘The Freak’.

“You looking for a fight, little guy?” The large man attempts to intimidate, towering over him.

“Well, if you won’t leave her alone…then yes…I am looking for a fight.” Eddie stares daggers up at the man.

Not a second longer, the man’s fist connects with Eddie’s jaw, sending him back against a table with a few glasses being knocked over. Eddie’s wild hair covers over his face. He swipes a thumb over his lips. Blood. Blood that was now seeping from his mouth. The room is quiet, not a peep. But then the sound of laughter. It was manic. Wicked. And craziest of all, it wasn’t coming from the man who’d thrown the first punch.

It was the enigma himself.

So this was what it felt like to be punched? To taste blood? To stand up and fight instead of running? To laugh in the face of danger. And it felt so good.

The metalhead looks up at the giant man. His teeth, bloodied red. A terrifying smile of nightmares. He stands planted on his two feet again.

“You want some more, freak?” The large man says, swinging a fist in the air once again only this time Eddie swiftly ducks out the way. He surges forward at the large man, full speed, sliding from under him so that he is now right behind the man.

Eddie quickly climbs on top of the bar table. “You’re not so big from where I’m standing,” He quips then points at the liquor hose in the bartender’s hands. “Hey, could I borrow that?”

The bartender hands it over. Holding the nozzle over the giant man’s head, Eddie's famous smirk is the only warning. The man could barely register what was going on before the trigger’s pulled, beer spraying and trickling down his head.

The large man was now wet and red with anger. Eddie makes no haste with his next move, spatting blood in the bully’s face and uppercutting him with a kick to his chin. The large man goes down with a loud thud. The room is in an uproar of applause and thus the beer dumping incident became a fan favorite legend. To this day, fans of Corroded Coffin pay homage at concerts, dumping cans of beer on their heads.

The band was soon tossed out of the venue that night and although Eddie’s friends had sung their praises, he couldn’t help but to feel guilty having ruined their biggest gig.

Then, he was approached by that very bartender on his way back to his van. The one who’d soon change the trajectory of his life. The one that promised a life of glitters and gold. Eugene Neds had sold Eddie a dream. A dream that was disguised as a lending hand to the young man.

“I can make Corroded Coffin a household name.” He says, holding out a business card.

A former manager of countless failed bands, Eugene was convinced he’d finally found the kind of talent that would free him of the depressing bore of a penniless 9 to 5. Eddie Munson would be his project. His success story of taking a teenage dirtbag with the attitude and skills and molding him into a sex symbol. Thus creating ‘Francis The Freak’.

But then… YOU came along. The rockstar’s undoing. You were tearing down the walls that were so perfectly built.

Mr. Neds calls it: You’ll be the end of Eddie and his band. The only form of control Mr. Neds has now would be keeping your relationship with Eddie under wraps. He’ll be patient, though. He knows this couldn’t possibly last between you two. Certainly, you were just another pair of legs that captured his short attention span until he eventually got bored.

Mr. Neds snaps out of his thoughts at the sounds of your giggling, eyes looking at the rearview mirror from his seat on the tour bus. You and Eddie were cozied up in the back, him showing you some scars.

“So, that explains the NPC-like behavior of your fans dumping beers on their heads or asking you to spit on them,” You deduce. “I’m glad to be in the know. This’ll be great tying that into my last article.”

“Did you really say NPC? As in Non-Player Character? You little nerd, am I rubbing off on you?” Eddie teases, poking your tummy.

“Hey, I know things.” You laugh, poking him back. “But you shouldn’t solve everything with fists. I’ve never known you to be a fighter.”

“I’m a lover, but I’m no pacifist.”

“You, a lover?”

“Mhm, want me to demonstrate?” His mouth attacks your neck, you squeal in delight.

So lost in each other, you couldn’t have noticed the manager’s demands to the driver to halt the bus. He had grown more and more frustrated at the sight of you and Eddie being so close. He decidedly gets out of his seat, walking down the aisle past the bandmates who could immediately sense something about to go down but all they could do was follow with their eyes as the manager made his way over to you.

“Y/n, Eddie…I’ll need you to test a theory for me. Stand beside one another.” The manager demands, breaking your moment together.

“What’s your point?” Eddie asks, squinting his eyes.

“We need to make sure that you both won’t look so ‘friendly’ with one another,” The manager explains. “The media are bloodhounds. One whiff of the hormones circulating between you would send them into a frenzy and next thing ya know you’re on the cover of yet another magazine.”

“Are you suggesting that the chemistry between us is so intense that remotely standing beside each other would give us away?” You ask, incredulously.

“Precisely.”

“Are you familiar with the term ‘delusional’?” You question rhetorically, causing Eddie to chuckle.

“Not delusional. Perceptive.”

“You weren’t very ‘perceptive’ when Eddie and I got together.” You smirk.

“I’ve suspected. I just chose to ignore it. It only became too difficult to deny when the two of you became sloppy with it.” Mr. Neds scoffs.

“We can totally stand beside each other without being ‘friendly’.” Eddie defends.

“Oh, is that so?” Mr. Neds asks, mockingly. “Because right now, right before my eyes, I see you and Eddie sat extremely close on this loveseat with his hand caressing your thigh…and he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, looking down at the hand that graced your supple skin lovingly. The two of you jump apart as if burned by the other.

“See what I mean,” Mr. Neds lets out a dry laugh. “Now please stand. Both of you.”

“Fine.” You and Eddie mutter in unison.

Standing up at once, your arms knock against each other’s. Your eyes trained at the contact and how close in proximity you both were. You blush, eyes on him. He notices your flustered state, smirking down at you.

“Jesus Christ.” Mr. Neds rubs at his temple, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Oh, they’ve got it bad.” Mel says as he walks in biting nonchalantly into an apple.

“It’s worse than I thought,” The manager groans. “You’re like magnets! You’ll need to stand at least 7 feet apart.”

“7 feet?! How the hell am I supposed to interview and complete my article from 7 feet away?” You argue.

“Anything is possible.” Mr. Neds answers.

“You’re being a real pain in the ass, Eugene.” Eddie says to the 40-something man.

“Welcome to my world,” He retorts. “If 7 feet’s such a big deal then I’ll be reasonable. 5 feet. No more negotiations.”

“This is so stupid.” Eddie shakes his head.

“Don’t be so upset, brother. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder or some bullshit like that. It could actually be quite romantic.” Mel chimes in.

“Mel…get the hell outta here.” Eddie and Mr. Neds sneers together.

Mel exits, a middle finger up in the air while the other brings the apple to his lips.

“Now if we’re going to work together and keep the peace,” The manager begins. “We need to do this my way. No, ‘ands’, ‘ifs’, or ‘buts’ about it. We’ll be at the airport to catch a plane to New York soon so—.”

“Whoa,” Eddie interrupts. “I thought we were going back home?”

“Well, I’ve booked a performance for Corroded Coffin to attend. It was an offer that I couldn’t refuse. A Holiday Parade! And it won’t just be televised in Hawkins like you’re used to. It’ll be all over America. No worries about rehearsals either. Just do everything exactly how you did at Mantra•esque. Ever since that performance, word’s been traveling about the new hot band in town. You’ll have an interview with the hosts of the parade right after so please be on your best behavior.”

“Why am I just now hearing about this?” Eddie’s voice raises.

“Well, you would’ve heard about it along with the boys if you hadn’t snuck out last night.”

“I have even caught my breath yet, man.”

“You had countless nights to rest. You spent them sneaking around with your…girlfriend. Eddie, I only ever want what’s best for you. If I hadn’t discovered you, where do you think you would’ve been?” Mr. Neds rests a heavy hand on Eddie’s shoulder. A visual much akin to that of a demon resting on gullible shoulders, pleading for their victim to sign away his rights. “You would have still been living in that shitty trailer park while your uncle picked up 12 and 16 hour shifts just to keep a roof over your heads. Remember, you’re not doing this for yourself. This is survival. You understand I only mean well…do you?”

Eddie’s jaw clenches, a quick nod.

“I knew you would. It’s nothing personal, kid. It’s just what they call ‘business as usual’. It’ll only be for a few more days and then you could enjoy all the time you need in Hawkins before the next tour.” The manager pats his back before making his way back up front to inform the driver to get back on track.

Sitting back on the little loveseat, you climb into Eddie’s lap while your arms wrapped around his neck for a hug. “He shouldn’t be allowed to speak to you that way.”

“He’s right, though.” Eddie huffs, caressing your back.

You felt yourself becoming angry for him, pulling away to look him in the eye. “He’s wrong. With or without him, you could do anything. Anyone could’ve seen that light in you. I have. You’ve got something special and no fucking manager could take that away from you, okay.”

Eddie’s stoic expression softens into a warm smile. “Look at you being all protective. Making you my girlfriend’s made you all soft.” He chuckles.

“No one messes with my man,” You shrugged with a smile. “He talks to you like that again and I’ll knock him down a peg or two.”

“That’s very cute,” He kisses the space between your eyebrows. “But you don’t have to defend me, ya know. I’m a big boy.”

“What? You think I couldn’t do it or something?” You ball your fists into your sides.

“Oh, no. My hesitancy is more concerned with how badly you’ll hurt his ego. I still need the man to be able to stand on his two feet if he’s getting this band going.” Eddie jokes.

“But…i-is that what you want? To keep this going?” You asked, twiddling with your thumbs.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

“What about taking a break? You’re going to perform in New York then you’ve got Europe in a week or so. It just seems like a lot.”

“It does seem like a lot. But if I have you beside me, it wouldn’t be so bad,” He catches himself. “In New York, I mean.”

Eddie made sure to include that last part not wanting the inevitable conversation to be brought up. Eventually, it will. As you’ve mentioned, the tour for Europe is approaching. The next time you’ll see each other again wouldn’t probably be for another 6 months. Maybe more. But what really affected him was the idea that you wouldn't think to consider going on tour with him. Especially since a little before bed last night, Eddie had asked you a question that tested everything between you two and all you could do was ignore it and say your goodnight.

“You want me to go to New York with you?” You asked.

He shrugs, shyly. “Well, yeah. I thought it was obvious. You’re fine to say ‘no’.” That response was meant for both situations: New York and Europe.

You take a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll go with you…” Eddie’s eyes lit up until you finished the last part of your sentence. “…to New York.”

“Y-yeah,” He clears his throat then echoes. “To New York.”

————

It was greatly in your favor that Eddie’s manager had decided to keep up with his “5 feet apart” rule, sitting you in separate seats across the aisle from one another. Why? Because you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about “the inevitable conversation”. Eventually…you’ll give your answer. Just not now. Not when things are going so well between you two.

You bury your head in your journal not exactly writing anything of importance, simply scribbling away to keep yourself from wondering if he was looking at you. But curiosity gets the best of you, so you peek up from your journal and catch Eddie’s eyes on you, too. You both look away at once, you resume your doodling nervously.

When you went to look over your shoulder this time, Eddie made a face silly enough to make you giggle and roll your eyes. He points at the journal in your hand, gesturing you to slide it over. You check your surroundings to make sure no one’s looking before doing so.

You waited as he proceeded to write something down. Then, he turned the journal to face you. In big letters: “Hi.”

You smile, waving and mouthing a “Hi” back.

He writes something down again and turns it over to face you. “Writing you here so Neds doesn’t try to listen in.”

You nod to confirm that you understand.

He writes. “What were you writing about?”

He could’ve turned the page to see exactly that but he didn’t wish to invade your privacy. You do the honors. Turning the page to which you scribbled different drawing variations of his name. You’re a little embarrassed to show him that he’s all you’ve been thinking about. But then he smiles eager to show you what he’d been reading.

He holds up his book, opening it to the page where his thumb held it open and reveals a polaroid photo of you looking up at him and him, down at you on the Manta•esque stage. This was his way of letting you know he’s thinking about you, too.

You smiled, writing him back. “How’d you get that?”

“Junie.”

“The camera guy?”

“Yep. Begged him to take at least one picture of you for me. It’s my favorite. I was going to share it with you but, selfishly, I want to keep it for myself.”

Is this really the same guy I met in that dressing room some weeks ago?

“Lovely view we have up here.” He writes.

You shoot him deadpan stare, not amused by the airplane joke. He tugs at the collar of his shirt in feigned nervousness before gesturing for the journal again. He writes. “Okay, I can see how that aviation joke went over your head.”

Still unamused. You wrote back. “I really appreciate corny jokes but these are just painfully bad.”

“Are you saying my jokes didn’t…land?”

“Please stop. If you’re going to tell airplane jokes, at least tell the Wright ones.”

Now he’s the one to look at you unamused and confused.

You scribbled quickly to explain yourself. “Get it? Wright. Like the Wright brothers. The first ones to fly an airplane?”

“Sorry, but your knowledge of world history is lost on me. I failed that class miserably.”

“I guess you can say it went over your head.”

“You can’t just repeat my joke. Joke stealing’s no laughing matter.”

Okay, that tickled you a bit. Smiling to yourself, you hadn’t realized Eddie passing you the notebook once again, until you felt the pages brush your arm.

“Think you can meet me in the restroom in 5?”

You scoff out loud. “I hope you're not thinking about what I think you’re thinking about.”

“I wanna talk.” He simply writes.

How could three words be so frightening? So ominous? Your heart pounds hard, daring to jump out of your chest.

“Are we not talking now? What would you need to talk about that can’t be said here?”

You anticipated his reply. Leaning over your seat, trying to peek but more so averting your eyes. You mindlessly picked at the skin around your fingernails, nerves getting the best of you.

With a solemn face, he holds out the journal to you. You meet his eyes then down at his hands, hesitating to reach for the book. The regretful look on Eddie’s face gave away that he was second guessing what he’d written down. When your fingertips grazes it, it falls out of his hand with an audible slap to the ground.

The two of you scramble to reach for it, kneeling down. Your hands accidentally touch in the attempt to take the book for yourselves. Instead of pulling away, you both ceased your frantic movements. Eddie’s thumb caressing the palm of your hand. You focus on this action then look into his big brown eyes.

The bing of the attendant assistance button pulls you out of the trance. Taking the notebook, you stand on your two feet and hug it to your chest. With a stern nod of confirmation, you stride your way down the first class aisle towards the restroom.

You shut the door behind, back rested against it as you let out a breath you weren’t aware you were holding. Eyes closed, you peel the notebook away from you. Your hands are outstretched in front of you and when you were sure it was directly in your field of vision, you opened your eyes and read.

“Europe.”

So it began. The inevitable conversation. There’s rhythmic knock and you were sure it was him, stepping away from the door and facing it. He opens it enough to let him slide through before he closing it behind him quietly.

“Hi.” He breathes out.

“Hi.” You say in quick breath as if you were scared to breathe at all.

“I guess you read the note.”

You don’t say a word, nodding tentatively.

“Y/n, I—“

“Why’re you calling me that?” You interrupt.

“You mean…your first… name?” He says, eyes squinting in confusion.

“Yeah. You usually call me some stupid pet name. What are we on first name bases now?”

“I thought you didn’t like it?” His eyebrow raises.

“It’s grown on me.” Your face grows hot as you cross your arms defensively over your chest. “Besides, do you just call me those names simply because I don’t like it.”

“At first, yeah. But I do it now because I like you.”

Your face grows even hotter, hoping he doesn’t see the effect he has on you right now. You should be upset, girl! “So, what gives? Why aren’t you calling me a vixen or a babe or whatever the fuck?”

“I just figured it’d be more appropriate for what I’ve got to say,” He explains before taking a deep breath. “I’d like to---”

You couldn’t bring yourself to hear much more of it. Okay. So he wants to talk about the tour in Europe? What exactly does he want from you? You couldn’t possibly give him an answer he’d be happy to hear.

“I’m sorry,” You cut him off again. “I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to forget. To pretend that there was no tour so that I can enjoy being in the present, being with you. But now I know that sometimes…it’s okay to face the inevitable. So…I think I’m ready now.”

“You’re ready?” He says, eyes shimmering despite the dimly lit environment.

“Yes,” You confirmed, lowering your head to keep him from seeing your tears. “I know what you’re going to say. And you’re right. We should break up and—”

“What the hell are you talking about? I never mentioned breaking up. I hadn’t mentioned much at all since you kept interrupting.”

“You didn’t need to mention it. The signs are all there.”

“Really? Because I’m trying to see them for myself. They must be—I don’t know—invisible. Nonexistent.”

“You can’t possibly think I can just throw my career away to be some groupie for you.”

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.” He jokes.

You roll your eyes. “I can’t go on that tour with you, Eddie. I have my dream and you have yours. I can’t put my work on the line when I’ve gotten this far.”

“So long distance not a thing?”

“I couldn’t do that to you. It wouldn’t be right. You’re gonna be a star. You’ll meet plenty of women who’d want you. I don’t want to hold you back. I just won’t do it. You deserve to be free to be with whoever you want.”

“You’re un-fucking-believable, Y/n,” He towers over you. “You have no right to make these decisions for me. That’s for me to decide. I’m tired of people telling me what to do, how to feel, what to think. I may not be the brightest but I’m not stupid. What about what I want?”

“What do you want?!”

“You, woman! I want you!”

“If you want me because you think I’ll be this doting girlfriend of your dreams who’s at your side at all times, who ‘sits down and shuts up’, constantly obeying your wishes; I am not that kind of girl.”

“Okay.” He shrugs, demeanor cool and collected.

“Okay? As in…”

“Okay, as in ‘I’m not asking you to be the girl of my dreams’. You already are, goddamn it. As stubborn, self-righteous and bitchy as you can be, I admire every part of you. Good or bad. I want you to have control over your own decisions and be unfiltered as you are. But sometimes, you do need to learn when to shut the hell up and listen to what I’m trying to tell you.”

You began to seethe at his words, opening your mouth to protest only for him to put his palm over it. He shushes you, his free hand putting a finger to his lips. “I’m gonna remove my hand now. You’ll be quiet, right?” He searches your glass-like eyes. You nod slowly, your stare holding sincerity.

“Good girl,” He praises, pulling his hand away. He straightens his composure as if to prepare himself for his own news. “I won’t be going on tour. I’ll follow you.”

Now you’re shaking your head at him. “No. You couldn’t. This is your chance!”

“There’ll be plenty of tours in the future. We can have time for each other until then. Get to know each other well enough so that you’ll start to believe me when I say there’s no one else I’d want besides you.”

Your eyes, the size of saucers. “Are you out of your fucking mind?! I would never ask you to do something like that.”

“That’s the thing. It’s my choice. I’m practicing this thing called ‘autonomy’. It’s quite refreshing actually.”

“It’s stupid!”

“That’s just your opinion.”

“It’s 100% fact,” You notice him approaching you slowly and closely. He’s got that devilish grin playing on his lips. “Stay away from me. 5 feet apart, remember?”

You place a hand on his chest, stopping any attempt for him to move further. He looks down at your shaky hand. He knows it’s futile, so he laughs. “We followin’ rules now?”

“I said, stay the fuck away, Munson.” You squeaked.

“That doesn’t sound very confident,” He chuckles darkly. “You sure you want me to stay away?”

You let out a shaky breath. He bites his lip. This shouldn’t excite him as much as it did, but he was HARD. And it didn’t help that the turbulence brought his attention to your full breasts bouncing temptingly in his gaze. Even covered by your scantily clad tank top, it was see-through enough to leave little to the imagination. He grasps your wrist, pulling your hand off his chest to hold.

He knew exactly how to push your buttons. You hate to admit it, but you were turned on, too. The wetness pooling in your underwear was undeniable.

“I think you like it when I’m this close,” He lets go of your wrist, testing the waters and taking another step. This time you don’t stop him. “I’m sure you remember the way I make you feel when my hand is between your legs.”

“Eddie…” You pleaded.

“You know what else I think, you wanted me to follow you the whole time. Is that why you ask if I wanted to keep the tour going? Why you’ve made me wait hand and foot for an answer? So, you can break me.”

“Not true.” You whimpered.

“Then, you manipulate me into thinking I’m breaking up with you,” He laughs incredulously. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, little vixen. I thought you were better than that,” His fingers coil around your neck tight, but not tight enough to cut off any air circulation. “But you couldn’t get rid of me that easily. Even if you were to leave me right now, you wouldn’t be able to forget me. You’d still feel me here.”

He cups your mound and your mouth drops, knowing that your cover was blown. You were sure that he’d feel you soaking your underwear. It was a blessing and a curse that you decided to wear a skirt today.

“We shouldn’t.” You gasped as he squeezed you down there enough to feel his rings digging into your cotton panties.

Oh yes, we should!

His lips ghosts over the shell of your ear. “You’ve broken me, kitten. Now’s my turn to break you.”

“Let me go.” You whispered weakly.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” He says, tone rich and deep. “There is no letting you go. You’d think I’d ever let another man touch you like this.”

He rolls a thumb over your nipple, perked up for him to tend to. A small moan escapes your lips, causing you to bite them in an attempt to cease any more sounds.

“I couldn’t even begin to imagine someone else hearing those pretty sounds eaving your lips,” With the hand still cupping your face, he swipes his thumb over your full lips and caresses the slightly-healed scar. “Couldn’t even bring myself to use your moans in my songs cause they’re meant for my ears only.”

“How do you think I feel? I get nauseous just imagining you with another girl,” You admit, eyes staring up in hopeless surrender to him. You grow as intensely possessive as him. Your bodies are so close, chests flushed together. Nails digging into his shoulders, you lay a desperate kiss on his lips that makes him feral. “I’m not usually the jealous type but I want you all to myself.”

“You have me.” He whispers, biting down on your soft bottom lip as he cups your butt and guides you to straddle his thigh. Slipping your panties to the side, he presses his thigh into your now exposed core. You knew exactly what he wanted, grinding against the fabric of his jeans. The rough material of the denim against your clit was a delicious surprise to you.

Eddie slips his tongue into your mouth and you immediately suck on the appendage. It felt like you were so in sync with the rhythm of your bodies. Your moans into the kiss competing with one another.

You loved when you got to hear the effect you had on him even without him being inside you. Your hands travel down to the dip in his back, pulling him closer (if it were even possible to be closer than you already were).

You ride his thigh, foreheads against one another and eyes locked. Noticing the erection straining against his jeans, you palm and squeeze it. He thrusts into your hand, pursuing further contact. The two of you work to unbutton his jeans, lowering the zipper until the pants loosened enough. Spitting into your hands, you dip it past the spandex of his boxers and free him of his restraints. You jerk him in your hands at the same tempo you moved your hips against him.

“I don’t want anyone else to touch you like this,” You pant. “Wanna be the only one.”

“I don’t want anyone else hearing how amazing you look you cum,” Removing his thigh away from between your legs, he shoves two thick fingers into you. You gasp which then melds into a moan at the feeling of being stretched so suddenly. Your eyes roll to the back of your head until Eddie snaps you out of it, gripping your chin and forcing you to face him again. “Eyes on me, little vixen.”

The feeling of his fingers, which were perfectly long enough to hit depths that even your own fingers couldn’t reach, drove you into a level of high you were scared to reach for. You tug his cock harder, faster in your hand and feel the precum coat your fingers with added lubrication.

Your stares grew intensely along with the sounds of your heavy breathing. You were getting lightheaded, knowing that the end was soon approaching.

“Want you inside me.” You begged, not caring enough that you were in an airplane restroom.

“Unh…fuck…not here,” He grunts. “Next time I fuck you will be at my place, in my bed so my sheets could smell like you.”

He wiggles a finger in you, teasing the sensitive trigger. His fingers are shot out of you and you’re squirting before you could even recognize that you’ve come.

“Holy shit, holy shit!” You squeal, vision going white. You convulse under him, hearing him groan and the familiar sticky feeling of his essence running in your hands.

You both cling onto each other moments after, his head to your chest feeling your heart beating erratically. When Eddie finally peels off of you, your body grows cold mourning the loss of his warmth. He cleans the two of you up, taking his time, cleaning between your legs and running a wet paper towel on the palms of your coated hands. He wordlessly watches your eyes tracking his hands, before placing a kiss to your now spotless fingers.

“You ready to go out there?” He asks.

“Could we walk out together?” You curl an arm around his, batting your lashes. You know it’s a risky thing to ask.

“Sure, babe.” A big warm smile plastered on his face.

When he feels as if you’re ready, he gives you a reassuring look before unlocking the door and stepping out. Undeniably, you were sure there would be eyes on you. So, releasing a breath, you walk down the aisle hand in hand with your heads high, ignoring the hushed whispers between passengers.

As the two of you approach the section where Corroded Coffin‘s seated, Mr. Neds looks back furiously in contrast to your blissed out states.

Instead of sitting in his “assigned” seat, Eddie sits beside you, putting an arm around you and smirking at the manager.

“Something wrong…Eugene?” Eddie mocks.

“Really? In the restroom? Are you forgetting we have 15 other passengers with us in a section small enough to hear someone’s heartbeat?” He replies through gritted teeth.

“She was quiet enough. As much as she could, anyway.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Very.”

“I’ll enjoy myself, too, someday. Currently, I’m thinking of how great that tour in Europe will be for you. It's a shame Y/n’s decided she won’t be joining us, though.” Mr.Neds says sarcastically.

“Don’t be surprised if that tour has no effect on me whatsoever. Almost like I’m not there.” Eddie retorts.

The two of them exchanged heated glares at one another. You sigh, sinking down in your seat.

————

It took longer than expected to arrive due to the weather conditions. A day and some hours and about 2 plane transfers to be concise. By the time you’d touchdown, it was practically evening but you couldn’t wait to get off the plane. You’ve never been to New York but you and Chrissy have talked about one day moving there together to make names for yourselves.

Despite Eddie clearly being exhausted from all the performances and trips, your joy rubbed off on him and soon he was just as determined to explore the big city as you.

Entering the terminal, you rush up to the big glass windows to stare out at the bustling streets. It’s really cold but no snowfall just yet.

You felt Eddie’s body pressed up against you, shivering enough to make you shake along with him.

“You okay, Eds?”

“Not really. I’m not dressed for this kind of weather. Guess fashionably torn shirts and tight jeans just aren't enough.My only saving grace is my leather jacket.”

You felt more bodies lean into you for warmth. The boys in the band huddling for warmth since you're the only one sporting a faux fleece coat.

“Hey! She’s off limits.” Eddie growls.

“Aw, come on, bruv. I’m practically naked in this top.” Judas says, pressing hard into your shoulder.

“Yeah, sharing’s caring.” Mel chimes in.

“If there’s anything you fuckers should know about me is that I don’t like sharing.” Eddie says pulling you into his body only for the men to follow after.

“Can’t we all just go shopping and get you all some decent clothing? Not rockstar-related?” You say, voice strained from being crushed between them.

“Being a star means sacrificing comfort for style.” Mr. Neds answers.

“That isn’t fair,” You protest. “You wouldn’t want them catching colds before their performances, would you? They need warm clothes.”

Mr. Neds stares you down then up at the boys who defensively reciprocated hostile stares at him.

“Fine. The new tour bus is awaiting us outside. We need to board it quickly or else—“

“Oh my god! It’s Corroded Coffin!” A voice rings through the terminal and soon all eyes around the terminal land on your group. There’s a beat of silence before screams and heavy thuds of feet fill the air. The fans sprint determinedly towards you.

Security immediately pushes you all outside of the terminal, blocking an entrance. The doors of another unmanned entrance burst open as floods of people come crashing through, running towards the tour bus.

You were paralyzed, shocked by the amount of people rushing over until you felt a hand take yours and tug you inside the bus. Another group of bodyguards standing between the doors to keep the crowd from hopping on top of the large vehicle. As best as they could the 4 bodyguards shoo away the crowd before hopping in and the driver quickly pulls off. Everyone on the bus, panting from the exertion of escaping.

“Look at that! Just a small town band, now your name’s being heard in even more places. Told you I’d make Corroded Coffin a household name.” Mr. Neds says proudly.

You exchanged a look with Eddie, who groaned at the manager’s lack of awareness. With stardom came lack of privacy. You felt a foreboding feeling that somehow your privacy would be compromised as well.

—————

“What do you think of this?” Eddie steps out of the dressing room, a man disguised. His outfit consisted of some light gray sweatpants, white kicks, and a basic white long sleeve shirt under his leather jacket. To top it off, his signature wilf curls had been stuffed into his black skully hat for better effect.

“You look great but wouldn’t you want to dress in coordination with your band?” You inquire.

Eddie’s bandmates had done the opposite of dressing casually. Going for the flashiest, expensive clothing.

“Nah, they’ll just end up getting us chased again,” Eddie laughs before looking over his shoulders then whispering. “I’m thinking we ditch ‘em.”

“Eddie…” You began but then suddenly you felt like you were in the mood for an adventure. “Know what…I’m ready for anything. What’d you have in mind?”

He’s taken aback. “The good girl’s looking for trouble?”

“I don’t have to look far. You’re the embodiment of it.” You tease.

“Correct as always, my dear.” He says in a silly posh accent, taking your hand and guiding you to sneak past the guards.

Then, you hear the sound of Eddie’s manager yelling from behind you. “Stop those two!”

You turn to your boyfriend, eyes wide. “Run.”

Next thing you knew, you’re both gunning it out the shopping mall, the bodyguards close behind.

To anyone on the outside, you were simply a rowdy couple caught doing something bad enough to be chased by men in black. After a couple twists and turns around the corner and a few “watch where ya goings”, Eddie leads you down the stairs of a subway station. You were sure you’d lost them until you saw them treading down the stairs a few seconds after.

Eddie pulls out a subway card from his pocket.

“Where’d you get that?” You questioned, panting as you ran.

“I swiped it off one of the guards,” Eddie laughs, also panting. “My dad was a pro pickpocketer.”

“We’ll need to unpack that sometime.”

Swiping the card in the machine, Eddie pushes through the turnstiles but when he swipes the card for your entrance, an error message shows up explaining that you have to wait at least 3 minutes for the next swipe. After a couple tries of the turnstiles not budging, you look over your shoulder and notice the guards closing in.

“What do I do?” You panic.

“Jump over!” He holds out his arms.

Grabbing either side of the gate, you hop over the turnstiles and into his arms just as the men reached you. The two of you resume running, this time having some distance from the guards.

As if your prayers had been answered, a train makes its stop at your station. Rushing in, you and Eddie gloat at the approaching bodyguards as the doors shut and the train pulls away. Clinging to the hand rail above you, you both pant in exhaustion which quickly morphed into laughter.

“You’re a bad influence.” You tease, hitting his shoulder lightly.

“You love it.” He retorts.

The words “you” and “love” in the same sentence. It is so strange that you hung onto them at this moment like they had any meaning outside of its context. But what would it be like to hear those words in a different arrangement? One where it felt more of a confession rather than a dismissive play on words.

Your hand slips caused by the jutting train, sending you out of your thoughts and straight into Eddie’s free arm.

“Geez, kitten. If you wanted a hug, you could’ve just asked,” He jokes. “You don’t have to throw yourself at me.”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you squeeze tight, cheeks squished against his chest. “I could use one.”

He melts into your embrace with an arm around you while the other keeps you both planted to the ground. It doesn’t matter to him that you were in a crowded train where anyone could spot you together because Eddie felt like he'd taken a trip in a time machine.

He’s like a teenager all over again. Sneaking around and running from the trouble he’s caused, but most of all, he felt this way being with you. Maybe he didn’t get that chance to impress you back then… but he has you now.

So lost in you, he hadn’t registered the light tap on his shoulder until accompanied by a said, “Munson?” From a familiar voice. Eddie turns around and his eyes widened in disbelief.

“Emerson?”

“Holy shit! It is you! Almost didn't recognize you with the hat,” A more mature Gareth stood in your presence. The two boys go in for a bear hug while talking over each other in their excitement. “You look great!”

“Can’t say the same for you, man. You look like shit.” Eddie laughs.

“Fuck off,” Gareth laughs. “I just got off my shift. What are you doing in New York?”

“I should be asking you the same. Hadn’t heard from you or Jeff in 2 years.”

“We moved to New York. They say it’s where everyone’s making a name for themselves.”

“You guys still make music?”

“Hell yeah, we do,” Gareth nods. “Ya know ever since, the band got separated. We knew we couldn’t stop rocking. You wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“Good to hear that, bro.”

“And what about you? What’s gotcha in the big city? Tour, maybe.”

“Not exactly a tour. Just a performance and an interview.”

“Aw shit, man. That’s wicked as hell. Rockstar life’s been treating you good it seems. I bet you get tons of chicks,” Gareth says excitedly, ignorant to Eddie’s panicking glare. “How many girls have you—“

He’s interrupted by you clearing your throat stepping out from behind Eddie. “Hello, Emerson.”

He gasps, pointing between the two of you. “Y/n…Eddie…you two are together?”

“Yep, she’s my girl.” Eddie curls an arm around your waist.

“Wow, I’m honestly surprised considering your first article on him. But Eddie did always have a little thing for you back in high school. I’m sure he made it his mission to win you over.”

“S-shut up, dickhead.” Eddie stutters, blushing.

“You read my article?” You ask, a smile creeping up on your lips.

“Oh, yeah. Everyone’s talking about it especially since Corroded Coffin’s performance at Mantra•esque. If ever I need exposure, I’m calling you for an article on mu band. Speaking of which,” Gareth searches through his jeans pocket, pulling out a flier. “You guys should stop by at this Battle of the Bands event tonight at 10. That’s in a couple hours from now so you won’t have to go back and forth until then. It’s at this cool ass venue they call a ‘speakeasy’ in Koreatown. You’ve gotta have a password and everything to get in that shit. Jeff and I will be performing along with our new guitarist, Brody. You’ll dig him. He’s chill.”

You look in the corner of your eye, feeling Eddie tense beside you at the mention of the new member.

“Our band’s called ‘TSNP’,” Gareth continues. “Thou Shall Not Pass. Will you be there, Eds?”

“I…could try. It’s just that I’ll be busy with rehearsals. So, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it, man.” Eddie lies.

“Oh…right. Well, that sucks,” A hint of disappointment in his tone. “Jeff would’ve been super stoked to see you. Sid, too. But I understand you're a big rockstar now.”

There’s silence between them. You shake your head at the men too prideful in expressing their true feelings despite supposedly being best friends.

The rest of the trip remained this way until the train halts to a stop at another station. When the doors open, Gareth makes his way over to them, stopping in his tracks and turning on his heel to look over at his friend one last time.

“When you left, we stopped making music for a while. Just didn’t feel the same. Then, I heard your song on the radio and it brought me back. It would’ve been really great if you had some time to see us play,” Gareth scans Eddie’s features and when he doesn’t get a reaction from him, he sighs. “Have a good night.” Sending you a small wave, he steps out and train’s moving forward again.

You turn to look at Eddie, arms crossed and disappointed. ”There are no rehearsals. It’s not fair to lie to him like that nor is it fair for you not to come and support. They’re your best friends. You have your band, why can’t they?”

“It’s not like I’m the one who chose to replace ‘em.”

“I know. But it’s okay to admit when something hurts,” You give him a small smile to lighten the mood. “I’m sure it hurt them having to make the decision to replace you just as much as it hurt you performing on a big stage without them. They’re chasing their dreams, too. It doesn’t mean they don’t want you to be a part of it. He did invite you, didn’t he? It’s like he said you’re the reason he was brought back.”

“You’re right.” He sighs.

“Of course, I am. I’m always right,” You tease then solemnly say. “No one’s gonna take that bond you all share. Not unless you continue to push them away.”

He nods, not saying a word. Thinking things over until the train makes another abrupt stop. The two of you exit hand in hand into the unexplored territory.

————

You were a lot more appreciative of the quiet moments you and Eddie sometimes had to yourselves. Where you got bask in the intimacy of normalcy. Lately, ever since Corroded Coffin's popularity, it’s constantly felt as if there were people lurking in the shadows, waiting on your next move.

Although, you must say it’s hard basking in the glory with your boyfriend’s face plastered on billboards around the city.

“Your manager’s not entirely wrong,” You say, pointing at the billboard. “Look at you guys up there. You'll probably be as big as Kiss someday.”

“You flatter me…but no,” He pats your head. “They’re untouchable.”

“I mean it, though. You shook the world. I can’t imagine you wanting to leave it behind now. I thought you wanted this tour.”

“I know what you’re trying to do here and I appreciate you considering my career but I’ve got my priorities straight. It took some thinking—not much—but I didn’t need a lot of time to realize I’d rather be with you.”

You try to contain the butterflies fluttering within you. “Now who’s become soft?”

“Shut it,” He laughs, pulling you against him and planting a kiss on your lips then neck until you suddenly pull away. “Did I do something wrong?”

You take him by the shoulders, guiding him to do a 180 degree turn. “There’s Coney Island in the distance. Wanna go?”

“I’m up for it. But just so you know, I like scary rides.”

“Aw, you don’t have to concoct a scheme to get me to cling to you, baby. I like scary rides, too,” Hands clasped behind your back, you teasingly walk circles around him then ahead towards the direction of the bright lights competing with the starry sky. You look over your shoulder and say, “I’ll still hold onto you, though… you’d like.”

He dramatically fakes offense, resting a hand over his heart. “I’m insulted that you would think I’d stoop so low. When would I ever deny the chance for you to hold onto me?”

“Then, what’re you standing all the way back there for? Come here and let me hold you.” You shout from behind you. Something about today made you feel extremely flirtatious. Maybe it was for the reason that Eddie was incognito, allowing you the chance to unabashedly enjoy each other’s company.

Eddie’s eyes now trained on the sway of your hips. “Just a second. I’m enjoying my view.”

You giggle. He rushes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, rocking you side to side. Your cute little game of cat and mouse comes to an abrupt end when you both enter the theme park and are met with scattered patrons all over the park with their heads buried in a magazine…with your faces on them.

“No.” You say, cupping your hands over your mouth in shock.

“Jesus H. Christ.” Eddie voices his frustration, eyes squeezed shut.

“That bastard,” You say through gritted teeth. You would have said that it was your fault for posting the article regarding Cole’s scandal. But you hadn’t gotten the chance to publish it, yet. “He was going to post it regardless of whether I’d accept his terms.”

You spot a nearby telephone pole. “I’m calling him and giving him a piece of my goddamn mind,” You say, strutting towards the payphone when Eddie grips your arm. You sneer a “what” at him.

“It’s not worth it. He’ll just try to provoke you which’ll then provoke me.”

You groan, running your hands over your face. “What do we do?”

“The only thing we can do: accept it.”

“Should we leave?”

“No. We’ll enjoy our time here while we can because as soon as we go back. We face reality.” Eddie holds out his hand.

You take it, exhaling and proceeding forward. “Okay but as a heads up, I’m definitely going to take down that man.”

“By all means, crush him,” Your boyfriend encourages. “Now let’s make you forget.”

“How do you suppose we do that?”

“Ferris Wheel, possibly. It’s the only ride without a giant line to wait in. We could talk…and other things.”

You snort. “What ‘things’ could you possibly do on a ferris wheel?”

He simply smirks, walking ahead of you this time. The boy is a menace.

You were considerably glad no one had recognized you from the magazine despite a good amount of park goers including the person operating the ferris wheel having the magazine in hand. After waiting in line patiently, it was your turn to board the ferris wheel car and take your seats.

“Some much needed alone time.” Eddie exhales his relief, both your heads thrown back against the wall of cart in exhaustion.

Not soon after exclaiming this, you both hear the sound of gum popping which causes you to raise your heads simultaneously. Seated in the chair across was a child, somewhere between the ages of 7-9, smacking away at her gum and kicking her feet.

“Hi!” She says, cheerfully.

“Hi, sweetie,” You return the greeting. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Beverly. Also Bev. I’m 8 years old! What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/n. That’s Eddie.” You point to Eddie who seemed uncomfortable.

“He looks scared. Are you scared of the ride, Eddie? It’s not scary. See?” Beverly gestures to herself seated.

“You okay, Eddie?” You asked, concerned.

He leans over, whispering to you as not for the little girl to hear. “It’s just…little kids freak me out, ya know. They always ask so many questions, forcing me to question my own existence.”

“It’s okay. I’ll take it from here,”You turned your attention back to the little girl. “Beverly, what are you doing here all alone? Where are your parents or guardians?”

“I wanted to ride the ferris wheel. Mommy said I couldn’t ride because it was bad. But I really wanted to.”

“Sweetie, it’s not okay to disobey your mother. Especially when she means well. She’s probably worried sick looking for you. I have an idea. Once this ride’s over, I’ll help you find her.”

“But she’ll be so angry.”

“Rightfully so, sweetie. But she’ll only be mad because she loves you.”

“So I can’t stay here?”

“You can’t run away from your problems. There’s a time where you’ve gotta face ‘em head on,” You were thinking maybe you should practice what you preach considering that running is exactly what you’ve been doing. “Tell ya what? I will have a talk with your mother to smoothen things over so she wouldn’t be too angry.”

“You promise?” She says, outstretching her arm and holding out her pinky.

“Promise.” You intertwine your pinky with hers.

“So when do you think we’ll get off this ride?” She asks.

“A few minutes or so.” You answered.

“Really? Even when it’s standing still.”

“Standing still?” Your eyes bugged out, looking over at Eddie who was just the same.

“Fuck! The Ferris Wheel’s stopped!” He exclaims.

“No swearing, Eds. Let’s not corrupt the kid.”

“Did you hear what I said?” He groans, standing up in the cart and walking back and forth.

“Yes! And could you please stop that? You’re wiggling the cart around.”

“I can’t help it. I hate confined spaces.”

“It’ll be okay,” You reassure him. “I’m sure it won’t be long before help.

The sound of a safety horn rings and then the click of a bullhorn. “Passengers, we’re experiencing some technical difficulties. Please allow 30 minutes for help to arrive and another 30 minutes to repair this issue. Please stay put and be safe. Thank you.”

“Well, that’s just fantastic.” Eddie throws his hands up before sinking down to the floor, head in his hands.

You sit beside him. “I didn’t know you were claustrophobic.”

“I’m not but sometimes confined spaces remind me of a certain point in my life…Juvie.”

“You’ve been to juvie?” You asked.

“It’s okay not to be surprised,” He laughs. “But yeah, I have.”

“No, I really am surprised. I never considered it,” You assure. “If you don’t mind me asking…how’d it happen?”

“It’s because I wanted to be like my dad. Ya know, the pro pickpocketer. Well, that wasn’t all he taught me. I learned how to hotwire different vehicles, dismantle and rebuild cars, how to pickpocket, taught me the ins and outs of ‘get rich’ quick schemes, taught me how to deal drugs…the whole nine. I remember wanting to be just like him,” He says. “I never cared much when my mother wasn’t around because he was there. Maybe he wasn’t the best father figure or as present as a parent should be. But when he was there, life didn’t seem so bad. Then one day we’re having some beers on the porch—I was 12, by the way—talking shit and listening to greatest hits. The cops came to arrest me because witnesses saw me stealing parts from a car. Parts that my father begged me to steal because he was too high off his own shit to do it himself. In custody, my dad says, ‘Don’t you worry, buddy. I’ll get you outta there.’ I really wanted to believe he was telling the truth.” Eddie laughs dryly, shaking his head.

Then he continues. “That was the last I saw of him and he didn’t even have the decency to look me in the eyes and say he’s sorry. I was sentenced for 6 months. He never visited me and being in that cell, staring up at the ceiling, alone with my thoughts; I realized it was the first time in my life I knew what it meant to be alone. I found out later he’d been arrested not even a month after my sentencing for serious drug charges. Lock up practically for good. Uncle Wayne took me in even when he hadn’t spoken with my dad in years. Hell, he didn't even know I existed until the guards called him looking for an immediate family member who'd be willing to take me in.”

Your heart broke at the sound of that. To know that he had such a rough childhood but he still managed to be Eddie was remarkable.

“I owe Wayne for everything I am now. If it weren’t for him, I would’ve been a dirtbag just like my dad.”

“I’m so sorry.” You say, rubbing his back.

You weren’t sure the right words to say or if you should say anything at all. The little girl, Beverly, slides off her seat, sitting on the ground along with you. Her tiny backpack in front of her as she rummages through it, pulling out a tiny pink book then holds it out to Eddie.

You both look down at it. Eddie, hesitant but otherwise he takes it in his hands.

“My dad is in jail, too,” Beverly says. “Even though I miss him, I think he’s better there than when he’s with me and mommy. At home, he was mean and scary sometimes. Mommy says he’s better now. I think so, too. He calls me princess like he used to. Once he told me that if I'm ever sad or scared, do something I like. He likes to draw. Like me.” She points at the book.

“It’s not creepy drawings of people being buried, is it?” Eddie says, fear sprinkled in his tone.

You discreetly shove his back with your shoulder. “What he means to say is, ‘are you giving us permission to look at your drawings?’”

Beverly nods, a small smile on her face.

Eddie flips through the pages and he’s caught by surprise. They were quite beautifully drawn for something done by an 8 year old. Gothic drawings of birds, spiders, landscapes and such.

“These are actually really cool.” Eddie praises.

“You’ve done these all by yourself?” You ask, also charmed by the work.

“Mhmm,” The little girl hums proudly. “Well, not all of it. Sometimes, dad starts a drawing and I finish it at home. Then, I start a drawing and he finishes it. He says it’s how we can commemorate with each other.”

“I think you mean, ‘communicate’,” You giggle. “That’s a beautiful story, Bev.”

“He also draws on people’s skin,” She adds, pointing to the matching tattoo you and Eddie had gotten. “Like that.”

You smile at your boyfriend, him, back at you in quiet appreciation; reminiscent of your time together so far.

“Hey, kid, I’ve got a friend I’ll be seeing soon,” Eddie grins. “He’s in a new band and I’d like to give him a little gift. I could use some help with creating a new logo for his band. Think you could make one for me while we kill time?”

Beverly beams. “Yeah!”

The little girl immediately takes out art supplies from her bag, taking the book for him to start on a new blank page.

“Did you mean that? We’re going to Gareth’s show?”

He nods, squeezing your hand. “Yeah.”

“Don’t just sit there?” Beverly chastises. “Gimme some ideas.”

Eddie chuckles, leaning over the page and springing ideas with her while you watch in amusement.

————

After 50 minutes, Eddie and Beverly became a close pair. You’d barely spoken with how much the two had gotten along.

“And she’s all, ‘You’re not invited because you’re weird.’” Beverly says in a mocking tone.

“No.” Eddie says in disbelief.

“Yeah and everyone in class had an invitation. She’s always been a real bully. Sometimes she shoves me, pulls my hair…and it makes me angry. Like I want to hurt her.”

Eddie scoffs. “I’ve known asshats like that back in school, too. Wouldn’t even look in my direction because I didn’t have the latest shoes or clothes.”

“Language, Eddie.”

“Sorry, I meant ‘butthats’,” Eddie says, causing Beverly to giggle wildly and nearly color outside the lines. Eddie whispers. “Some advice: don’t stoop down to a bully’s level because then you’ll become a bully, too. It happened to me. I thought solving everything with fists would somehow get people to stop messing with me but it only made me feel worse. It’s okay to stand up for yourself but it’s also okay to tell someone what you're going through. Like an adult.”

You smile at his advice, realizing that he’d listened to you.

He’s becoming really mature.

“However, she did hit you first so it’s only fair game that you get to hit her back.” He adds.

Ooh, so close.

“All done!” Beverly holds up the drawing.

Eddie takes the page, scanning it. It was of a spider spinning a web in the shape of a guitar, a giant cross in the background. It looks badas—“ You shoot him a look. “It’s really cool, kid.”

A whirring sound picks up and the ride’s moving again, the three of you erupt in cheers. When you’d finally reached the bottom, a woman full of fear stood there waiting on the sidelines. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw Beverly.

“Bev! Baby.” Her mother sobs in relief, arms opened wide.

“Mommy!” The little girl jumps into the mother’s arms.

“What did I tell you about leaving my side?! I knew you’d be here. You just don’t quit, do you?” Her mother scolds.

“Ahem.” Beverly says, clearing her throat cuing you.

“Hello, Beverly’s mother,” You waved, introducing yourself. “It’s wonderful meeting you. I’m Y/n and this is Eddie. We found her riding alone and talked about searching for you when the ferris wheel stopped.”

“Hello. Please call me Martha,” She introduces herself. “I told her that ferris wheel’s always giving up. I’m so sorry. I hope she didn’t cause any trouble with you. She can be quite the handful.”

“No. She was an angel. Even drew us a picture.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Bev,” Her mother smiles down at her. “Thank you so much for keeping her happy. She’s usually scared to ride those things alone. If there’s any way I could thank you…”

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary.” You protest.

“No, no. I’ve got it! If ever you need help planning an event—maybe a party or… wedding,” She darts her eyes between the two of you, handing you a business card. “That's my number right there. I’m a wedding and event planner.”

You blush, profusely. “Umm, okay.”

“Let’s go, Beverly. Say goodbye to the nice people.”

She pouts. “Will I see you guys again?”

You let Eddie have this one. He crouches down to her level and says, “I think so. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be needing a wedding planned or whatever,” You were now blushing so hard that the heat from your face could warm you enough from the cold weather. “Or maybe I could get some cool tattoo ideas from the artist herself.” He finishes, winking at her.

The girl beams. Then, she and her mother were on their way. Eddie, waving at her until they couldn’t see each other anymore.

You smirk at him. “Well, would you look at that. You’ve overcome your fear of children.”

“She’s pretty cool. Reminds me a lot of myself.”

“She’s very special. Bright, too. I think she’s helped me work out a lot up there than any therapy session I’ve had in years.”

“Somehow the universe keeps sending people our way because you and I could use a little push. We’re very stubborn people, ya know. Although, I’m a Taurus. What’s your excuse?”

You laughed. “So are we going to this show or are we going to discuss signs now?”

“Don’t you wanna debate how un-Taurus like I am,” He jokes. “Alright. Let’s go so see TSNP. Dumb name by the way. Hope Gareth didn’t come up with it.”

“Do you think we’ll make it to their performance on time?”

“I think so. But if we don’t, I’d still like to go for the support,” He smiles and curls an arm around your shoulders. “Then you and I could go back and face reality.”

You rest your head on his, walking out of the park; ignorant to the magazines with your faces on them.

Taglist: @that-idiot125 @strangerthingsstories5255 @haylaansmi @tlclick73 @chcolateeyelver @apolixyan @micheledawn1975 @maystecc @gay-weirdo262772 @itswormtrain @httpmedxsa @3m0xbunn1 @bebe0701 @lokiofasgard616 @joeyfilth @secretdryrose @sammararaven @cherrytree69 @bimbobaggins69 @nicolaj1978 @idgafboutyou @eddiesgffff @briasnow-blog @sweetdreamer1010 @sleepyghostygirl @babeyglo @idkidknemore @e0509 @brittney69 @samunson83 @hellfire-puppet @moonisu @mopeymopeymouse @lluviamg06 @shinydixon @cherrysoda444 @lovelyvivii @therese01 @keiracottreau @mirrorsstuff @eddiemunson95 @e-munson666 @munson-fixation @paradoxicalconundrum @lulukings92 @sherrylyn628 @szalipcombo @elamity @munsonswhore86 @kellsck @die-irre-blog @creoleguurl @edsforehead @munsonswhore86 @websterss @screaming-blue-bagel @ick90

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slimthicksonnett · 2 years

Note

2 and 72 with Alexia, if you are still taking requests. Thank you!

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” + “You’re so fucking cute” / Alexia Putellas (1343 words)

Obviously, an ACL injury is painful.

What people tend to not realize is that it is also incredibly annoying.

“Bebé, I can call a car!” Alexia fussed, limping to her feet as you stood by the doorway with your arms crossed and keys in hand.

“Not a chance, La Reina. If you insist on going to training, I’m driving you.” If the sass in your voice wasn’t evidence enough that you didn’t plan on budging, the nickname certainly was.

“I can do it myself! I don’t want to be a distraction from your work.” The footballer whined, earning a laugh from you as you watched her try and cross the room.

She was moving well, already rehabbing the injury at a pace that was beyond impressive. However, she still much resembled a puppy who hadn’t quite grown into its legs with the way she struggled to adjust to the new sensations.

“What work? It’s the weekend!” You smiled at her sweetly, an eyebrow arched in amusement at her attempts of independence.

“I don’t know, like… grading?” She grumbled, finally reaching where you stood.

“Lindura…I am an art teacher. Grades are a formality.” Leaning down, you placed a kiss on her forehead as you held back a giggle at her supposed frustrations.

“Fine.” Alexia huffed as you cheered in excitement at the win.

“Perfect, let’s get you to the field!”

—

“Are you coming in?” Alexia whispered, poking you gently over the armrest of the car.

You couldn’t help but laugh. Of course the woman who was initially worried about being a burden and taking up your time to drive her to the stadium was now asking you to stay with her.

“I can if you’d like?” You answered, tilting your head to the side as you glanced over at her.

“Yes please.” Her voice was still soft but enthusiastic as you reached over and squeezed her hand gently before parking the car.

“Alright then, off we go!” Contrary to the usual order of things, you were the one who popped out of the car and opened her door.

“That’s my job.” She huffed again and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Not right now it’s not!” You held out a hand reassuringly, helping her to exit. Once she stood up though, her hand immediately dropped from yours.

“Cameras.” Your girlfriend whispered, not missing the hurt look on your face.

It wasn’t a conversation you had often, but it was one you were in disagreement on for sure. Alexia said she didn’t want everyone to know about your relationship in fear of the way it would affect you. You had told her everytime that you didn’t care.

As you approached the stadium security, Alexia was prepared to argue her way into getting you access into training.

“She’s w-” But you didn’t let her finish.

“Bon dia, Iker!” You greeted the security guard by the door, who grinned widely when he saw you.

“Y/N! Bon dia! Com estàs?” Giving you a big hug, the older gentleman looked you over as he asked how you were doing, not used to seeing you in non-paint splattered clothing.

“Ahhh bé, gràcies, i tu? How is Maria?” Your response was so informal that Alexia wasn’t sure if it was your words or the hug that caught her more off guard in that moment.

“We’re good, we’re good! Maria is very excited to have you again this year.” Iker answered, and you smiled at the compliment.

“I’m so excited to have her! She shows great promise. I will see you all soon, yes?” You let your hand fall to Alexia’s lower back, urging her forward gently.

“Of course! You two have a good training!” Iker waved in parting as he stepped aside to let you enter, Alexia still somewhat dumbfounded by the interaction.

“Why do you…” She trailed off, not even sure what to ask.

“My school is just across the street, Ale.” You supplied in lieu of an actual answer, continuing to make your way towards the pitch.

—

Training went as usual, though your heart ached a bit to watch Alexia captaining the sidelines instead of chasing down a ball.

You sat contentedly in your normal seat, high enough to see the whole pitch but close enough to still see the detail of your friends at work. Sketchbook sprawled open in your lap, you let the charcoal fly over the page without thought as you watched the girls.

When the team was done for the day, you shouldn’t have been surprised with the plethora of them that clambered up the stands to greet you.

“Y/NN!” A familiar voice called out, earning a squeal of laughter from you when the younger woman threw her arms around you.

“Mariona!” You laughed, the joyous sound practically filling the stadium.

“Careful!” A distinctively English voice joined in, as quick hands darted out to grab your art supplies before they could go crashing to the floor.

“Gràcies.” Your voice was shaky as you spoke, interrupted by bouts of laughter as Mariona continued to rock you side to side with her hug.

“Woah, you did these? They’re incredible.” Lucy whistled, staring down at the sketches on the notebook she held. You felt your face flush at the compliment, thankful for the recognition of something so small.

“Sí, I believe there’s one of you in there if you’d like it?” You responded softly, reaching for the sketchbook and flipping through the pages.

“Of me?” Lucy asked, blinking somewhat dumbfounded.

Humming sweetly in response, you found the page and tore it out carefully before handing it to her. The Englishwoman stared down at it in awe. It was a simple thing, a quick sketch of her and Keira exiting the tunnel together. But from the look on Lucy’s face, you’d have thought you’d just painted her the Mona Lisa.

“This is beautiful, Y/N. Thank you.” The defender whispered, leaning down to where you sat to place a kiss on your cheek. You smiled at the gesture, cheeks blazing hot, unaware of the now looming presence of your girlfriend.

The girls filtered away to go change as Alexia settled down beside you.

“Glad to see you’re making more friends.” Alexia said, though you could hear a certain tightness in her tone.

“Yes, that Bronze is a big sweetie.” Smiling, you stared down at where the brunette defender was walking away.

“I bet she is.” Your girlfriend grumbled, gaining your full attention.

“Why the tone?” You questioned, peering at her in interest.

“I don’t have a tone.” Alexia snipped, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked away from your prying eyes and out over the pitch.

“Yes you do! What’s your deal?” Poking her with your charcoal covered finger, the older woman pulled away from you.

“I don’t have a deal! You just seemed very touchy with that Britt.” Her pout was deepened by the admission and your eyes went wide in both understanding and amusement.

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” The question normally would’ve seemed absurd. La Reina did not get jealous of most people. But it seemed your closeness with the Englishwoman in particular had crossed an unspoken line.

“No.” Alexia tried to protest, but there wasn’t much to it as she looked at you almost pathetically.

“Oh my god, you are! Ale, bebé, I gave her a drawing of her and Keira! You know, her GIRLFRIEND?” You emphasized, watching the way Alexia turned bright red.

“Yeah, whatever…” She looked off to the distance, a mixture of guilt and embarrassment written across her face.

“You’re so fucking cute.” Laughing, you leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek. Unlike Lucy’s who had been far up on your cheekbone, you let this kiss settle just on the corner of your girlfriend's lips which was a decidedly more intimate gesture.

“Shut up…” Alexia muttered, but you could see the smile ticking up on the lips you’d just kissed.

“Never,” You whispered, “Never in a million years.”

#alexia putellas imagine #woso imagine #espwnt imagine #espwnt x reader #slimthickficlets

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alittlextrathatway · 2 months

Note

What are some of your best and worst Brettsey moments?

What are some moments that inspire you to write or make you write because things need to be changed?

What are some storylines you wish the show had exploded with Matt and Sylvie as individuals and Brettsey?

Or times when the writers could have gone deeper?

Is there anything you want to write but feel apprehensive about or feel like you can't get it right?

Now that the Caseys have left Chicago I can answer this one. 🥺 Been saving it.

It’s so hard to narrow down BEST moments. I love the “You’re a little extra that way” conversation, Sylvie’s confession of feelings from 9x16, their love scene from that same episode, the first kiss in 9x02, and the eye contact at Molly’s from 9x02 as well. There’s more but those are the first ones that come to mind. Of course now I have to consider the BEAUTY that was their wedding ep which gave us SO MUCH. Their vows were perfect. Making out in the turn out room, also perfect. Sylvie escaping/running for her life and Matt tackling the guy and holding Sylvie for dear life after, again perfect.

As for worst, I’d say anything out of character. Matt’s 10x22 “I don’t know” always makes me mad because there’s no way someone who loves Sylvie as much as he does wouldn’t reassure her in that moment. The way the break up was orchestrated in 11x01 with Sylvie comparing her relationship to Violet’s or Stellaride’s or even Kyle’s, Matt and she not talking for two weeks — all of it felt forced and weird. Sylvie doesn’t normally compare herself to others like that and Matt wrote Sylvie a LETTER and put it in the mail in S10 when they kept missing each other. I’d say those.

I think a lot of what inspires me to write is less things that need to be changed and more things that need to be explained. Like the break up in 11x01 and Matt’s “I don’t know” in 10x22. Both those things made me want to dig in and take something that feels OOC to me and elaborate on it. That happened to me in S9 a lot. I wanted to really explore their perspectives, thoughts, traumas, and emotions in a way TV just doesn’t have a lot of time to do.

The biggest one for me is the trauma that resulted from Arnow. Matt’s guilt over Sylvie being hurt and Otis. Sylvie’s grief over losing Otis and exploring that grief as part of the reason she didn’t realize things with Kyle wouldn’t work sooner than she did. I feel like there was some excellent material there that could have been mined for them. The other one, that I was convinced the show was saving for the dating Brettsey era that we never really got, was meeting Brett’s birth father. After everything she went through with Julie, how would that go? Would he be as lovely as Julie was? How would Matt help her through it?

Times when the writers could have gone deeper for me is always going to be exploring trauma. I wanted to know more about Matt’s relationship with his dad. We saw Nancy and we heard about his dad from her but what were Matt’s memories like? How did he remember him? Also why didn’t Christie share Matt’s opinion on their mom or see the abuse? Was their dad partial to Christie? And for Sylvie, I wanted to know more about Harrison and Hope and how that dynamic shaped a young Sylvie. Harrison and Hope were clearly the gaslighting types and if those people were her childhood best friend and high school sweetheart then there must be more emotional abuse that she didn’t reconcile until after they were gone. I also would have liked to have actually met her parents or her brother.

As far as things I want to write but can’t, I have had an idea for a regency Brettsey AU FOR YEARS. I am not great with historical fiction/romance though so I’ve never seriously attempted to write it. But man do I want to. I think it would be full of so much yearning and tenderness.

Hopefully I answered all the questions you had! I LOVED THESE QUESTIONS. My favorite part of writing fanfic of these two is trying to get inside these people’s heads. They’re complicated and loving and generous but also have experienced great tragedies and faced abuse from people they loved. The fact that they find solace and safety in each other is breathtaking to me and so well deserved.

#chicago fire #brettsey #sylvie brett #matt casey #matt casey x sylvie brett #ask box #ask angellwings #angellwings answers

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scintillyyy · 1 year

Text

i am not thinking about how if sebastian ives was the high school friend we brought back as tim's love interest instead then maybe instead of the marina we could have moved to little odessa and then we'd be surrounded by ives' extended family and we could have a cute rom-com of two boys trying out this dating thing and having this awkward tension where you're long-term friends but also more than friends and then their dates get crashed by all of ives' cousins who tease the heck out of them but all of ives' big family loves tim and then ives helps out tim on cases unintentionally with his wizards and warriors know-how cause he's a nerd and he's got a way of thinking outside of the box and maybe ives doesn't know tim is robin and we have this whole thing where he's trying to figure out why his boyfriend has always been so cage-y and weird and at the same time ives has also got, like, a part-time job working at a cat cafe or something but he's all embarrassed by this and hiding so tim is trying to figure out why his boyfriend is acting all cage-y and weird like oh no is the cancer back and-

#oh no i love it help #tim drake #sebastian ives

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