#might fuck around and maybe make a collage who knows!!!
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girls night! ( juno and i get beverages and then individually scroll through etsy together )
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Hacker! Ren Headcanons
Basically just hc’s abt what ren does in his free time watching u, yk, normal stuff
Character(s): Ren/[REDACTED] from @14dayswithyou and mild mention of Harper from @/campwillowpeak
A/N: Definitely check out Camp Willowpeak if you have the time! Great VN in progress!
Trigger warnings: Minor panic attack after ‘And it is the worst feeling in all of Corland Bay.’
Um, mention of NSFW and kinks etc. Minors DNI !
Ren spends every waking hour of the day trying to be as close to you as he can possibly muster.
He just wants to be there with you in some shape or form!
The best days for him are the weekends, you don’t have to work and you can stay home all day if you choose to!
Some of his favorite things to watch you do is watch your anime, read fanfiction and a bunch of other things that help with his research.
When you indulge in your fixations, it helps Ren change himself accordingly to whatever you like at the moment!
You like science-y guys? Luckily for you, he took Biology and Chemistry in high school!
Totally not to figure out how to kill people effectively or clean up bloodstains, what???
You like artsy guys? He makes these amazing collages and collections of photography! Also took painting and art in high school!
Once again, totally not because he wanted the best drawings/paintings of you or the best high quality photos for his shrine, whaaat???
But having you read fanfiction is much more interesting to him.
He can see the types of characters you like to read about, your favorite genre, your favorite pairings, your favorite character dynamics…
Whether you prefer sunshine characters with a dark side, characters who look like they could kill you but are actually cinnamon rolls, two idiots + one brain cell, it’d all help him further his agenda of manipulating you to love him making him perfect for you!
And if you go into the NSFW section? He is frothing at the mouth.
This is his chance!! He can figure out what you prefer in the bedroom and win you over with his seduction skills! (not that he needs any ofc… have u seen him??? His dick is like 10 inches, that's a seduction skill on its own…)
(and maybe sometimes he takes advantage of the cameras around your place to listen in and watch you do some… intimate activities)
Whether you like submissive guys or dominant guys or service tops or brats, Ren is all for it! If you’re into some kinky shit, he might not be too into it, but he’ll give it a try for you!!
But if you share one of his massive kinks (ex. Breeding, marking) dude, you are so fucked.
Ren is straight up praying to his shrine that he can be the only one to fulfill your desires because, whoa, he would be soo good to you if you gave him a chance. He would literally cry if you wanted him to do whatever he liked to you.
Also you both like the same shit??? You were clearly meant to be!!
He sees you scrolling on social media and calling yourself delulu? (just like him ong) Don’t worry, he’ll be there so you can fufill your delusions!!
You’ll never have to be delusional again now that you have him!!
Ren saw you scroll through your Tumblr feed, seemingly spending hours lurking on this one account of… Camp Treepeak, or something. It irked him when he saw you focusing on this one character who had you swooning.
So what if that dumb brunette was 6’9’’??? So what if he was a pyromaniac??? He was just a dumb game character, Ren was real! Besides, Ren was more than sure that those missing 4 inches of height between and that fictional guy went somewhere… else.
You didn’t know what you were missing out on!! Ren was right there, always waiting for you to notice him! If you gave him even the smallest chance, he’d swoop in and make your life a living romance visual novel if you wanted!
He could be anyone you wanted him to be! At all! If that’s what it takes for him to be yours, he’d do it in a heartbeat!
(I have brought this up before lmao) Would absolutely be down to try and cosplay any character you aggressively rave about to Moth.
While he absolutely detests Moth for being the one that you go to with this stuff, he can’t deny that it's useful for him to tap into the call, mute Moth on his own end and listen to you go on and on about whatever you’re rambling about at the moment.
Your voice is so pretty, like a canary… Birds remind him of freedom in some way, some days Ren would like to keep you captive, hide you away from the world.
But then he looks at himself in the mirror and he sees his father stare back.
And it is the worst feeling in all of Corland Bay.
He hums to himself, listening to you talk on and on to Moth but can’t help and think, ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if I was the only one they ever sang to?’ and it sends Ren into a spiral of dark thoughts he immediately dry heaves at.
He’s trying so hard to focus on your melodic tone before he pants over the sink, body shaking. No, no, no, no.
No. He is not psychopathic. You are not something he can own. You are not his. That is not his decision. You have your voice. You are your own person.
“Hey, you alright?” Your calming voice shakes him out of his stupor. Of course, it did. It helped him get through nightmares, through hungover evenings where he just wanted to be with you, past his job when he felt demotivated.
Subconsciously, he knew you were just talking to Moth, but he couldn’t help but respond. “Y-yeah. I think so.”
“Mm, I feel that.”
Wow, maybe if he squinted, the two of you could be having a conversation! If it wasn’t for that lingering thought of his bastard dad, he would’ve been giggling on the couch, kicking his feet and twirling his hair.
…He was really getting into his Ren persona, wasn’t he…?
“Look, cheer up, things get better. I mean, my job’s no walk in the park, but it’s about the small wins!” He could hear the grin in your voice, you always managed to bring your emotions through audio, “Like, like! The other day, some guy on the street saw my subtle Attack on Giants jacket and stopped to me and said―”
“ ‘Yoo, is that AOG?’ “ Ren repeated the same words with a small smile on his face. He remembered how you reined in your expression before your face lit up as soon as you were by yourself.
You sighed and chuckled at whatever Moth had replied. “No, I am not a huge nerd. I simply have good taste. Oh yeah, remember how I told you about that one skater boy–” and your voice faded to background noise again.
Ren took a couple deep breaths to calm himself. He wasn’t his sperm donor, he’d be better. For you.
And the rest of his nights would be spent, adoringly adding to your shrine and his collection of your items.
Then he would lay in bed, clutching a pillow, wishing it were you he had to cuddle with but could settle for the plush, soft object until he finally won you over.
(personal headcanon that ren has one of those like, duck filled pillows he hugs instead of his stuffed toys which he leaves on display. Sometimes all the body parts just get in the way and he just wants to hug something soft… :(( like you :(( )
Which he would… one day.
#14 days with you#ren 14dwy#ren x reader#yandere#visual novel#ren 14 days with you#14dwy#14dwy ren#🧨headcanons#🌟small fic
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idea: Omen copies people and tries to imitate people he likes.
at first, it'd be hard to tell. but he's picked up on Viper's speech, and from time to time (...as funny as all the other agents find it) he'll repeat what brimstone has said to him. little speech things.
but it becomes more obvious when it comes to behaviors. like, how if someone talks to him but does the "talking with hands" thing, he'll try to copy it. except he doesn't speak, because he doesn't understand the two things are connected. it becomes an uncanny imitation that reminds everyone else that Omen is not like them, and Omen cant understand what he's doing wrong. He's doing what he's seen others do, so why do they find it so strange when he does it?
When people breath in a certain, noticable way, Omen pretends he's breathing the same way. It takes time for anyone to notice, but Omen does copy it and never understands why it unnerves the others.
and say, when they're on a multiple day mission, he'll copy how people prepare to sleep. because he doesn't understand, and he just wants to pretend that he is like them, even if it means laying there for hours in silence because everyone sleeps, except for him, so that must mean that sleeping is a trait of living things.
now, this also comes around a LOT with specific agents. like cypher. since Cypher y'know has a mask with eyes that pretend to blink, i like to imagine he also is very expressive with his body language to make up for the fact he has a mask. and Omen would copy the way Cypher likes to tilt his head, or the eccentric way Cypher waves his hands about. Cypher finds it interesting, and would often subtly do unique things such as a certain gesture or a walking to a certain pattern just so that he could see Omen imitate it later, either with him or elsewhere.
The only time these little imitations seem *real* and *lifelike* is when Omen isn't trying to do them. Like how Omen will often imitate breathing just on his own, or the way he likes to keep a hand on the wall as he walks by because it is grounding and he likes to know where he is relative to the walls around him, or how he leans toward things he finds interesting so that he can focus better and hear them clearer. Omen doesn't realize that he is trying to put together a collage of everyone's unique traits in a desperate bid to make himself seem human- he doesn't realize that the little things HE does are what make him seem alive. that those little things are proof that he is not just going through the motions and making a fake personality from bits and pieces of everyone else, because he has his own thoughts, opinions, and little quirks that no one else shares.
Omen really hasn't existed very long, has he? and yet, he's already killed countless people. from copies of friends, to copies of himself. how could that not fuck somebody up? he went through unimaginable pain, and cannot even hold himself together on a bad day (quite literally), and has looked himself dead in the eye and shot a replica of himself dead. When he has only known the VALORANT protocol- has only known Viper, who isn't known for her empathy- how could he have ever figured out what makes people human? where would he have managed to come up with the idea that his emotions are his own? where does that leave time to realize that he does not have to desperately copy people so that he can be SOMEONE? or really, so he can pretend that he is alive, in some compacity?
and I love the idea that Cypher, who struggled with the same problems, sees Omen struggling and he helps him.
Cypher is all too familiar with thinking he is not like the others, and has already grappled with the idea that something about him is wrong. and maybe he isn't quite over that idea, yet. maybe he's just pretending he is, but he'll TRY so that he can help Omen, because he just cant let Omen struggle with those thoughts alone.
and Omen realizes, that even if he might not be human nor technically alive, that it is okay because Cypher loves him either way, and thats enough for Omen to want to keep going.
#valorant omen#valorant headcanons#Omen *has* to have issues#i do not take criticism#valorant cypher#cyphmen#shadowire#wow there are so many ship names#they are so cute though
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『 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒 ──── ・♡ 』
──── ✦ ✧ ∗
[ 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒 ] ──── best friend!beomgyu, wom!reader, reader and beomgyu share an awkward moment, sexual intercourse, bedroom sex, breeding kink, classroom sex, clit play, multiple sex scenes, degrading kink.
[ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 ] ──── collage au, friends to lovers au, smut, a little crack, fiction, fluff, angst.
[ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ] ──── use of swear words, some errors maybe.
[ 𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓 ] ──── you didn’t think a one time thing that happened at a random movie night would start a fling with your childhood best friend? but what will happen if one or both of you starts catching feelings?
[ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 ] ──── this is for entertainment purposes only!
𝐀/𝐍 ・ ❛ enjoy! ❜
𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 eyes rolled back as you bounced on you best friend's cock with his arms wrapped around your torso, meeting his halfway “beomgyu, i’m cumming!” you moaned out, gripping the pillow that was underneath his head as hard as you could.
beomgyu groaned quietly, letting go of your torso with one hand and gave your ass a hard smack. you whimpered and bit down on your bottom lip, riding him a lot faster "yeah, there you go baby" he praised you.
"fucking hell, y/n" he groaned, watching the way your ass bounced on him. with a few more hard thrusts, you felt yourself release on his cock. you let out a whimper as he slowed down hips before shooting his ropes of cum inside of you.
beomgyu rocked his hips inside of you slowly, helping you both through your orgasms before stopping completely. he let go of your torso with a soft smile on his face, making eye contact with you and you smiled back "that was so amazing" you hummed.
you lifted your hips letting his cock remove itself before laying down beside him, pulling the covers over you "maybe we should do that position more often" you chuckled and he looked at you "maybe".
you laid your head on his chest, closing your eyes shut focusing on catching your breath. beomgyu stared at the ceiling "y/n" he called out, making you look up at him "yes?" you mumbled almost closing your eyes shut.
he thought for a second as he turned on his side "i think i might have a crush on someone” your eyes darted up to his face “really? who is it?” you asked in pure excitement and his eyes widen “uh, some random person i met at a cafe a while back” beomgyu lied with a small smile “i just don’t know how to tell them how i feel i mean we’ve been friends for y- i mean months now”
you raised an eyebrow “well i think you should let them know how you feel if you really like them, i mean there is rejection but at least you tried, you know?” you said before letting out a yawn.
he nodded as he laid back on the pillow “i see”. he sighed before closing his eye shut “goodnight, y/n”
“night, beomgyu”
You knew you should but you two were anyway. yeah, in an empty classroom, filling the room with panting, moaning, groaning and wet noises of your skin clapping together. beomgyu currently had you bent over a teacher's desk, rutting roughly into you as your boobs were falling from your t-shirt.
you moved your head back as you gripped the desk harder, letting out a low moan "yeah, yeah j-just like that- ah!" you yelped when you felt him give your ass a smack "you like being fucked like this hm?" his other hand reached for your hair, gripping it roughly which took you by surprise "like a slut?" you tugged down on your bottom lip, nodding "y-yes!- mm!, fuck please".
he looked down seeing your ring of arousal at the base of his cock. his other hand snuck between your bodies, placing two fingers onto your clit and rolled it around in slow circles.
"oh my god, you're so tight" he groaned lowly, picking up his pace. his eyes watched as your ass bounced off his hips and a whimper flowed from your lips.
you soon felt a sensation in your stomach "fuck, i'm close" you hissed, gripping at the desk much harder. beomgyu grunted in your ear, grabbing one of your ass-cheeks and pounded himself into you.
your mouth fell open as your eyes went back, moaning loudly "fuck, i'm g-gonna" you felt a wave of pleasure through your body as you released onto him, feeling some dripping down your leg.
with a few more pumps into you, beomgyu released his strings of cum inside of you as groans released from his mouth. he slowly moved his hips inside of you, helping you both through your highs.
after, he sat inside you for a while and placed a kiss on your head before slowly pulling out of you.
he pulled up your underwear to keep anything else from leaking out. with his help you got down from the table, letting out a deep breath as you looked at beomgyu with a smile "that was amazing-"
before you could finish your sentence, unexpectedly beomgyu pulled you in for a kiss which made your eyes widen but you still continued and wrapped your arms around his neck.
he deepened the kiss and moved your body closer, closing the gap between you two. you then pulled from it and looked at him "what was that for?" you asked, placing your hands in his hair which almost made him lose it.
"i don't know, sorry" he chuckled but you shook your head "no, its fine" you reassured him "but we should freshen things up and clean off everything" you suggested and he nodded before pulling away from your embrace to grab the towel and disinfect spray from the other table.
you thought to yourself from what just happened and wondered why you felt something spark in your stomach, but you ignored it as he came back with the supplies.
"let's get started"
you and beomgyu has never touched lips before believe it or not. so, you have a hard time wrapping it around your brain.
you two were currently in your bed as his lips were moving all over your neck, grinding himself against your clothed sex. "beomgyu" you called out as he moved his lips to your jawline "yeah?" he hummed "did you ever talk to your crush?" you asked, and he stopped his movements to look at you "uh, no i never got the chance to" he cleared his throat, making you raise your brow.
"why haven't you?" your eyes scanned his facial expression "because, i don't know how to approach them and say 'hey, i'm in love with you, be mine?' it'll be awkward for me" he sighed and you sat up "but you've known them for months? i don't think it would be that awkward" beomgyu frowned at you, wondering if you knew that he was talking about you.
'what's happening here?' he thought.
"i know but..." he sighed, sitting down next to you "i'm not prepared for that type of rejection" "well, you don't know if they're gonna reject your or not unless you try, gyu" you placed your hand on his thigh, giving him a light smile.
he thought for a moment before suddenly, getting out of bed to grab his things and you frowned at him "beomgyu? where are you going?" you asked but he just looked at you before leaving out and leaving you speechless.
𝐛𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐠𝐲𝐮 watched you the whole night as you flirted with one of your classmates with a light smile on your face. a laugh escaped your lips, placing your hand over your mouth.
beomgyu wasn’t always the jealous type until you two started hooking up. he was more protective over you and always watched and went with you anywhere you went.
that was until he rushed out of your room, and you haven't heard from him since. whenever you tried to greet him, he would just ice you out and walk the other way which left you crying most nights and tried wondering what you did or said wrong from him to treat you like this.
but your friend made you go out today since you were all down and out because of him.
soobin walked towards beomgyu with his drink in his hand, looking at where his eyes were looking then reverted his eyes back to him “why haven’t you told her whats going on?” he asked before taking a sip and beomgyu shrugged his shoulders “i don’t know, i’m scared that i’ll fuck up our friendship” beomgyu admitted and soobin frowned “one, you already did by running away from her and two i think it’s better to tell her then to sit here against the wall and stare at her like a creep, man. even i'm creeped out imagine now she feels"
beomgyu glared at him as soobin chuckled a little before looking over at yeonjun who was currently making out with a random girl against the wall.
“typical, i’ll be back since he might throw up in her mouth” soobin sighed before walking away which made beomgyu chuckle at the two.
his eyes went back to you before sighing and walking off to grab a drink. soobin frowned at a drunk yeonjun who was standing against the kitchen wall, laughing "o-o-oh my gosh, it's a fucking unicorn" soobin rolled his eyes before approaching beomgyu along with you "now, your going to keep each other company while i run yeonjun home cause he's getting on my fucking nerves- NO!" soobin ran towards yeonjun who was trying to make out with another girl which made you and beomgyu chuckle.
you two then looked at each other before looking away "so, how've you been?" beomgyu asked and you shook your head "great even tho you left me in my room without any context" you said in a sarcastic tone and he gulped "look, y/n-" "then you ignored me at school like i'm an outcast" you chuckled dryly "i know, y/n and i'm sorry i was being a jerk and i deserve his but i panicked, i knew if i told you that i loved you....that you would freak out and never talk to me again" he admitted before taking a sip of his drink while you just sat there in silence at his words.
he looked at you, frowning until he realized which made him panic "oh my god, y/n, i'm sorry i know we weren't supposed to but i-i couldn't help it and-" "i love you too" was all that left your lips which made him go silent this time and glared at you “huh?” "at first when we started, i felt something for you but i pushed it down and ignored it until you kissed me and that's when i realized and when you told me you liked someone, i got a little jealous before i went to sleep that night and back in my room i wanted to finally tell you how i feel but you ran off"
beomgyu stared at you, looking for words to say "fuck, i'm sorry y/n for all of that" you shook your head "it's fine" you smiled along with him.
he moved closer to you, cupping your cheek with his hand and caressed it gently. "well, i know this is awkward to say but be mine?" beomgyu teased and you chuckled and nodded.
"of course, gyu" you smiled leaning in for a kiss. this time when your lips touched you felt more sparks than before as you wrapped your arms around his neck. he deepened the kiss and pulled your body closer to his.
"finally!" you heard taehyun yell making you both chuckle.
𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐
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Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 3
Collage by me :)
Masterlist
Pt. 2
Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams @slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals @eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30 @jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson @sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975 @costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @yourdailymemedelivery @spacedoutdaydreamer
Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: Swearing, smoking, light smut, drug use, angst, anxiety, mentions of vomit
Word Count: 4.8k
Divider by @strangergraphics
Part 3: Get Nervous
Sunday, March 12th, 1989
Sunday. Fucking Sunday. You've been dreading this all weekend. It’s the final day of the Hellfire Club campaign, and you also have a paper due for biology. You didn't mean to put it off, but a certain sexy metalhead has distracted you this entire time. You don't blame him, you didn't tell him you had homework. You're sure if you just said so that he would've let you focus. Given the length required for your paper, you decide to tell Eddie you can't sit in today. You don't want to spend all night rushing your work. You could easily write a passable essay over the course of the day.
"What do you mean you can't watch the end?" Eddie asks, surprised you'd deny him your company.
"It's nothing personal, baby. I promise. I just have a big essay due tomorrow. I should've mentioned it earlier, but I didn't want to ruin our fun. Though I think I've done that now anyway." You look down at your hands, leaning against the entry to the livingroom. Eddie's standing close to you, playing about with the hem of your shirt to tease you. He lifts your chin up with his finger.
"It's no problem, angel. I understand." He smiles kindly at you, but his eyes still read as hurt. He knows you'd sit in if you could, but he can't say he won't be missing you the whole time. Even though you're just going to be down the hall, all he'll want to do is run to you and never let go. "Who knows, maybe you'll finish early, hm? And then you can come see me." He says lowly, leaning down for a kiss. Your lips meet, and you wrap your arms around him. You pull him close, moving your mouth against his gently. He's so addictive, the taste of tobacco on his tongue makes you want to never stop kissing him. But it’s already 11am, you'd all slept in late so you have to get moving.
You break away from him, and he whines. "Eddie, relax. I just need time to write a decent paper so I don't fail, okay?" He nods, pouting playfully. "Believe me, I'd rather spend the day with you. But I can't let my grades slip. If I do, Mom will have a cow. And then she might not be so keen on me seeing you." You poke a finger into his chest.
"Are you saying I'm a bad influence, baby?" Eddie asks slyly. He enjoys being a rebel just a little too much sometimes. You roll your eyes.
"You just might be, Munson. Now come on, go tend to your club. And I'll be in my room. You can come check in on me when you're done if I haven't finished yet." You give him another quick kiss, and turn away to go work on your paper. You hear him let out an annoyed sigh, rolling your eyes again at him being so childish. You walk into your room, already regretting sticking to your guns about your assignment. You close the door, but leave it unlocked in case Eddie comes to you later on. You put your record player on, music helps you concentrate. You keep it low so as not to disturb the campaign, and you begrudgingly open your notebook to begin writing your paper.
Hours go by, and it's almost 6pm. You haven't bothered to look at the clock much, you just want to get this damn assignment done. You have about two pages left, but your hand is starting to cramp up. You flex your fingers to relax your sore muscles, when you hear a knock on the door. "Y/N?" Eddie calls to you. "The game's over, Erica claimed a victory for everyone. I'm gonna take the kids home, but I'll be back, 'kay?" You jump off your bed, running to open the door. You're greeted by Eddie's smiling face. "Hey there, beautiful. How's the essay coming along?" He leans against the doorframe, looking you up and down. Your hair is a mess from running your hands through it constantly. It’s one of your nervous tics. His expression drops slightly, worried about how your assignment has been treating you. "You doin’ alright?" He asks, reaching for your hand.
"Yeah, it's just kinda stressing me out. But I only have two pages left. It's not very good, I'll probably only get a B on it. I'm having a hard time concentrating." You downplay the situation, ignoring the alarms going off in your head. For some reason, this paper is kicking your ass. You can't help your anxiety overtaking you, your body begins to tremble uncontrollably. Eddie squeezes your hand to comfort you.
"Sweetheart, you don't have to be so wound up. I'm sure it's a good paper, it'll be okay." He puts his other hand on your shoulder to steady your tremors.
"I guess. I keep reading it over, but it all feels jumbled now. And my eyes hurt." Your breath shudders, and you pinch the bridge of your nose as your eyes squeeze shut. You feel one of your infamous migraines coming on. Perfect. Those last two pages will really be a challenge now.
"Hey, hey. C’mere, babydoll." Eddie pulls you into him, holding you close. Your arms wrap around his middle, and he strokes your head. You try to focus on him so you can steady your heart pounding in your chest. But you can't calm down, you're having a full-blown panic attack. You feel silly having one over a stupid essay, but you can't do poorly on this. You won't allow it. You cannot fail. Ever. Your breath comes out rapidly, chest rising and falling as you wheeze. Eddie loosens his grip, looking at your face. You've gone pale, like you might faint. "Shit. Are you alright? What can I do?" The worry in his eyes only exacerbates your anxiety. You're hyperventilating, and your head feels light. Eddie picks you up in his arms, carrying you to the bed. "I-I don't know what to do, Y/N. I'll get your mom. Just try to breathe. Fuck." His own voice is shaky now, you've scared him. He runs out of the room to the kitchen, frantically telling your mother what's happening.
You hear multiple sets of footsteps rushing down the hall to you. Eddie, Mom, Dustin, and all the kids file into your room. Mom and Eddie help you sit up, you feel like you're going to pass out. You can't steady your breathing, it’s as if you're suffocating. Mom holds out a paper bag to you. "Honey, we gotta get your breathing steady, okay? So just try to breathe in the bag for me. And then I have a Valium you can take to settle your nerves. It'll be okay, sugarpuff. We're here for you." You take the bag, inhaling and exhaling as best you can into it. It seems to be working, your breath slowly returning to you. You hate having everyone staring at you like this, you must look like such a freak. You wish they'd all go away, and leave you alone. You put the bag down, and Mom hands you the pill and a glass of water. You down it quickly, chugging the entire glass.
"Take it easy, angel." Eddie advises, stroking your arm. Mom takes the glass from you and walks out, quickly shooing the others away. Eddie stays with you, holding you close again. You're still trembling, but your heart slowly regains its normal pace. "Do you want to lay down, sweetheart?" He quietly asks. You just nod. He lays you down, caressing your cheek as you position yourself on your side. "Is there anything I can do?" You shake your head, feeling a tear escape one of your eyes. He tuts, wiping it away. "It'll be alright, baby. Just try to relax. I'm gonna take the kids home, but I'm coming right back, ‘kay? And I'm not leaving your side for the rest of the night." He plants a kiss to your forehead before standing up to leave. He walks out of the room, giving you a caring glance before shutting the door.
As soon as he leaves, you can't hold back the tears anymore. You begin to sob, drawing your legs up to your chest. You feel so stupid, losing control in front of Eddie like that. And to have your mom, and everyone else staring at you? It’s so humiliating. And over what? A stupid essay? You really are just a scared little girl that can't handle anything. You imagine Eddie won't actually come back, because he's too freaked out by your little episode. He only says he will in order to spare your feelings. And all the kids will tell everyone and their dog about how you crumble so easily under pressure. Dustin’s bound to have a field day rubbing it all in your face. And you’ll have Mom doting on you every second of the day over this, maybe she'll even throw you in the looney bin.
You lay stewing in your thoughts for what feels like hours, and the sun had set outside your window. You never want to move from this spot again, never look at anyone or talk to anyone. It’s all too much, and you just want to hide, or maybe even die. You hear the front door open, probably Eddie stopping by to tell you he can't see you anymore. He can't possibly go out with a nutcase like you. The door to your room opens again, and Eddie walks over to you. "Hey, angel. How are you feeling?" He asks with a smile, which disappears when he sees how red your face is from crying.
"Terrible. But I don't expect you to care." You blubber, wiping your eyes with your sleeve. He scoffs at your statement, confused at your change in mood.
"What do you mean? Of course I care. Where's this coming from?" He asks, moving closer to you. You turn your back to him, you can't take that concerned look on his face. He sighs. "Y/N. Please, look at me. Did I do something wrong?" You groan, rolling back over to face him.
"You didn't do anything. I just figure you don't want to hang around me since I'm a basketcase." You reply bitterly. You know he's given you no indication of what you're saying, but you can't believe anyone would possibly want to be around you now.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" He asks, shocked and slightly annoyed. "You're not a basketcase. And even if you were, I wouldn't care. I really like you, Y/N." He furrows his brow at you, trying to figure out where your head's at.
"You can't mean that." You shake your head, refusing to make eye contact with him.
"Why not?" He crosses his arms, searching your expression.
"Because you can't see me like this, all shaky and pale over a stupid paper, and still want to be around me. It's so embarrassing." You start to tear up again, and you curse your eyes for working against you. "And everyone was staring at me, I'm sure they'll tell everyone they know about it. And Dustin will tease me. And my mom will worry about me all the time. She might even have me committed." Eddie's eyes widen at your words, realizing what's happening. He lays down next to you, but lets you have some space.
"Y/N, I can tell you right now that you're wrong. About all of it, 'kay?" He reassures you, and you glare at him.
"How do you know?" You cross your own arms now.
"Well, for one. I'm still here, aren't I? What did you think I was gonna do? Just leave and never come back?" He's slightly angry with you doubting his true intentions.
"I guess I did. I didn't want you to, but I didn't think you'd still like me after everything." You answer, realizing how silly you sound.
"Well, I do. I'm right here, ‘kay? Look, it scared me. But I was worried about you. I wanted you to be okay. To be honest, it felt like I caused it, since I kept you from doing your work all weekend." He explains, sounding guilty.
"No, Eddie. It isn't your fault, I didn't tell you about it, and that's my own problem." You reassure him, reaching for his hands. He lets you take them in yours.
"Well, that's good to know, princess. And another thing? You're wrong about everyone else too. Again, they're concerned for you. But the whole time I was driving them home, all the kids talked about was coming up with a way to help you feel better. They care about you, Y/N. We all do. I don't know what negative voices you have in your head telling you otherwise, but you shouldn't listen to them." You nod, and he continues on. "And Dustin? He swore everyone to secrecy about your anxiety. He said he'll smother anyone who spills your private business in their sleep. And your Mom? She told me you've been dealing with a lot for a long time. She said she felt something like this coming on, because you work yourself to the bone constantly. You never take a break, and you refuse to ask for help when you need it. Obviously, I knew some of this already, given how Friday went. But she said she hopes having me in your life will help you. She still thinks it could, which is flattering, I guess." He chuckles, and you let a small smile form on your lips. "There's that smile I've been missing today!" Eddie coos, pulling you into his arms.
You sniffle, wiping away all your tears. Your eyes feel irritated and red. "I'm sorry, Eddie. It's not fair of me to think the way I was about you. Or the others. I just...it's like I know those things aren't true, right? But, it also feels impossible that anyone would actually like and accept me as I am. You know? That probably makes no sense." You chuckle, slapping your forehead in embarrassment.
"No, it doesn't. But I understand what you mean. Listen, I'm here for you no matter what. I won't, however, let you wallow all day. You have a paper to finish young lady." He pokes your chest, making you giggle. "How about we go have a smoke outside, clear your head? Then you can finish your essay. And then, we can spend the rest of the night together. Sound good?"
"Sounds perfect, Eds." You both climb out of bed, making your way outside. You bypass Dustin and your Mom, they seem surprised to see you in a better mood. They look at each other in confusion, questioning one another if they know anything about what Eddie might've said to you. But they end up shrugging, chalking it up to Eddie being the right man for you.
It isn't until you light up that you feel the effects of the pill your mother gave you earlier. You begin to feel dizzy, almost falling over. "Shit, I've gotcha." He catches you, gently leading you to sit in the grass. He sits beside you, rubbing your back with his hand. "You feeling alright, Y/N?" He looks into your eyes with concern.
You try to get your head to stop spinning, but you can't. "I'm not feeling so hot, Eddie. I'm really dizzy, everything's spinning." You groan, clutching your stomach. You lean away from him, and vomit into the grass. He tries to help you, but you push him away. You manage to stand, bending over as you throw up again. You keep yourself steady, bracing your hands on your knees. The stomach acid stings your throat, making you cough. You stay in place, waiting for your stomach to calm down. You dry heave a few times before you're finally empty. You spit any remaining bile out, wiping your mouth. You stand upright, almost falling backwards. Eddie grabs your shoulders to steady you.
"I'm sorry, angel. Have you ever taken Valium before?" He asks, stroking the sweat-soaked hair out of your face. You feel slightly better now, but also very tired. You just shake your head, before burying it into his chest. "I'm guessing you had a bad reaction. You didn't eat much today, either. I know your mom was trying to help, but I wish I had known you hadn't had it before. That shit is not for the faint hearted."
"She takes it to help her sleep, she's always had bad insomnia." You state, muffled by Eddie's chest. You can barely keep your eyes open at this point, you just want to sleep. You know your paper needs doing, but a small nap could help. You could always get up early tomorrow to finish it. "I'm really tired, Eds. Can you take me to bed?" You ask, nuzzling your face against him.
"I will, but I don't think you should sleep right now. You might get sick again and choke. And you need water, and something to eat. I'll get you something, and I'll stay with you until the pill wears off some more." He sighs, lifting you into his arms. You groan, your stomach still hurts. "Sorry, baby. I'm trying to be careful with you." He brings you inside, and your mother immediately panics when she sees you in Eddie's arms.
"Oh, God! What happened? You look awful, sugarpuff!" She says, rushing over to you.
"She's fine, mostly. She had a bad reaction to the pill you gave her and painted the yard with her breakfast." Eddie snips. He continues walking, bringing you down the hall. He plops you on the bed, making sure you sit up against your pillow. "Stay put, baby. I'll be right back." You hear him say as your eyes have fallen shut. He leaves the room to get what you need. You overhear him talking to Mom, their words swirling around in your dizzy head. Eddie calmly explains to her that she shouldn't have given you the Valium. She doesn't sound offended, more so she's ashamed that she inadvertently made you sick. He reassures her, saying it was just a mistake and that he'll help you through it. But he makes a point to tell her to never do it again under any circumstances. You drift off near the end of their talk, hearing the fridge door open as Eddie finds you something to eat.
A while later, you feel Eddie shaking you awake. "Mooooooom, just five more minutes." You whine, your eyes fluttering open. You see him chuckling at you thinking he was your mother. "Oh, it's you. Sorry, silly me." You giggle, trying to keep your eyes open.
"Hey, sleepy head. I brought you some dinner, and a nice tall glass of water." He sets a tray down next to you.
"Not hungry." You shake your head, and Eddie frowns at you.
"You have to eat, Y/N. You'll feel better, I promise." He insists, getting in bed next to you. He sets the tray on his lap. You lazily scan your eyes over what he’s brought you. A PB&J sandwich cut in half, and some apple slices. "It's not too much, I don't want you to barf it all up later. But it's enough to help you."
"Ugh, don't say barf." You wince, feeling ill again.
"Shit, sorry." He hands you half of the sandwich, and you reluctantly take it in your hand. You bring it to your mouth, taking a small, apprehensive bite. You immediately want to spit it out, but you know you have to get something down. You gulp hard as you manage to swallow it. It hits your stomach, and you start to feel hunger overtake you. You take another bite, and another. "Take it slow, Y/N." He says to you quietly, gently stroking your leg as you chew. You swallow again, looking into Eddie's eyes.
"Thank you for taking care of me, Eddie. You're a good man, you know." You smile kindly at him, taking another bite of your sandwich. "Did you make this?" You ask him as you chew.
"How'd you know?" He quirks an eyebrow at you, impressed you can tell he made it.
"Easy, Mom uses grape jelly. But I think it's too sweet. And you...used raspberry jam. My favorite. I don't know how you guessed it, though." His eyes widen, a smirk spreading on his lips. "What?" You look at him suspiciously.
"Raspberry is my favorite, too." He replies, wiping a smudge of jam from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. He brings it to his lips, licking it clean. You stare at him in amazement, he really is something else. "What? Like you said, grape is too sweet. But raspberry? It makes the whole thing come together."
You don't know what to say, so you let slip the first thing that comes to mind. "I think I could be falling in love with you." You gasp at your own words, registering what you’ve just said to him.
"Over a sandwich?" He asks snarkily.
"Well, no. You're just so...." You search for the right words. "Good. To me." You gaze at him seriously, driving the point home that you care deeply for him. He gets the message, receiving it with enthusiasm.
"Well, I'm glad you feel so strongly for me, Y/N. And lucky for you, I just happen to feel the same." Eddie looks deep into your eyes, before glancing at your lips. He's breathing heavily, unsure if he should go further. He doesn't want to push you in your vulnerable state.
"Are you gonna kiss me already?" You say impatiently, his eyes snap to yours again. You can't help smiling like an idiot, closing the gap yourself. Your lips meet, both of you humming lowly into the kiss. You break away quickly, covering your mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sure my breath is terrible right now." Your cheeks heat up, but he's unphased.
"It's fine, Y/N. You just taste like sandwich. I don't mind either way, not if it means I get to kiss the most beautiful girl in the world." He pokes your nose, making the both of you laugh. You finish the first half of the sandwich, drinking some of the water to wash it down. You reach over to take an apple slice from the tray in his lap. Eddie sits with you quietly while you chew, still stroking your leg. He watches as you manage to eat everything off your plate, kissing your forehead when you finish the last bite. "That's my girl." He says sweetly, taking the tray back to the kitchen. You sip on the water, feeling just full enough for your stomach to stop hurting. You can't stop smiling, seeing Eddie care for you makes your heart swell and gives you butterflies. He comes back shortly, plopping into bed beside you once more. "Better?" He asks, holding your hand.
"Better." You reply, planting a kiss on his plush lips. You cuddle up to him, laying your head on his shoulder. You still feel pretty tired, but you just might be able to finish your paper now. "I should probably finish my essay." You say reluctantly.
"You sure?" Eddie says, worried about you working yourself up again.
"Yeah, I have to get it done. But...stay here with me, okay?" You place a hand on his thigh, caressing it gently.
"Of course, Y/N. I'm not goin’ anywhere." He places his hand over yours. Your head leaves its resting place, and you reach over for your notebook and pencil. "C’mere, sit between my legs." Eddie says calmly, and you do as he asks. You put the notebook in your lap, reading the last page you were working on to remember where you’re going with it. You feel Eddie running his hands up and down your back, and your eyes can't help fluttering closed at his touch.
"Watcha doin' there, Eds?" You ask breathily.
"I'm keeping you relaxed, angel." He replies lowly. His hands go to your shoulders, massaging them firmly. You moan at his touch, your head falling to the side. "Does that feel good, baby?" He asks in your ear, his warm breath fanning over you.
"Mhm." Is all you can manage to say as his hands continue to work your flesh. His thumbs press into your back, working the knots of stress that have resided there for who knows how long. You wince as they hurt a little.
"I know, baby. Just let me help you, you'll feel better when I'm done." He presses a kiss to your neck, setting your skin aflame. You know he's not intentionally turning you on, but you can't help leaning further into his touch. He draws small moans from you as he loosens up your sore muscles.
"How are you so fucking good at this?" You ask lustfully, making Eddie's cock twitch. Under any other circumstances, he'd be going further than he is. But he doesn't want to push you when you're not feeling well, it wouldn't be right.
"Practice, sweetheart. I'll keep going, but you have to work on your essay." He kisses your neck again, before setting your head upright so you'll concentrate.
"Alright, alright. Just please keep going." You almost whine at him.
"I'll go as long as you want me too, babydoll." He chuckles quietly. You turn your attention back to the book in front of you. You reread the last paragraph to refresh your train of thought. Once you remember where you’re going, you begin scrawling more words on the page. The ideas come easy to you, and Eddie's hands travel up to your neck. He gently rubs out a large knot that you're sure has been there for months, but you remain focused on the task at hand.
About thirty minutes later, the infamous essay is finally finished. "Done!" You clap the book shut, tossing it away.
"I knew you could do it, baby." You blush at his praise as he kisses your cheek. Eddie had stopped massaging you ten minutes earlier, but he kept caressing you in a non-distracting way. He loves touching you, it seems he'll never get enough. You leave his grasp, turning to face him. He looks so tired, and you feel bad for stressing him out today. He peers at you, raising an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"
You straddle him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You look into his eyes, biting your lip. "Nothing's wrong, baby. I'm just sorry for making you so worried today. Let me make it up to you." You lean forward to kiss his neck, lightly biting down on his skin. He groans, his hands going to your waist instinctively. You look at him again, but his expression hasn't changed. "What?" You ask, scrunching your face.
He sighs, pressing into your hips with his fingers. He shakes his head. "It's nothing. It’s just...you don't owe me anything." You open your mouth to protest, but he stops you. "Don't get me wrong, you're sexy as all hell. But you should be taking it easy, sweetheart. It wouldn't be right for me to ask anything of you right now." Eddie cups your face, looking at you meaningfully. "But, what we can do is get cozy and cuddle in bed. I'm fuckin' exhausted, and you need rest before class tomorrow." He pulls you into him, pressing his lips to yours passionately. You return it, grabbing the sides of his face to deepen it further. Eddie quickly catches on to what you're doing, breaking away. "Easy, tiger. Man, even when you're sick, you're insatiable." He jokes, moving you off of his lap.
"What can I say? You really bring out my appetite." You smirk slyly at him, hopping off the bed to shut your bedroom door. You both quickly discard your clothes. Eddie's in his boxers, and you're in some panties and his Hellfire shirt. You flick off the light, and climb into bed with him. You scoot under the covers, and he snatches you into his arms to spoon you. You share a quiet laugh, the feeling of his arms around you gives you a warm sense of safety. You turn your head to look at him. "Goodnight, Eds. Thank you for being here with me." You whisper, giving him a peck on the lips. He smiles kindly at you, his eyes hooded from drowsiness.
"It's no trouble at all, ‘night, princess." He slowly shuts his eyes, holding you even closer to him. He nuzzles his face into you, sighing in contentment. You face forward again, closing your eyes too. You let your mind wander off to dreamland, feeling safe, warm, and secure in Eddie's arms.
To be continued...
#fanfiction#smut#stranger things#eddie munson#hawkins#1980s#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x henderson!reader#into the fire#hippiegoth97
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Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 3: The Twins
Easy Company x Fem!OCs
Chap. Synopsis: What will happen when Easy Company finally starts getting settled in 2023?
Words: 3,440
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Author's Note: (Link to picrew in collage) Hey everyone!! I just wanted to say that part of this chapter mentions irl Easy Company and I wanted to emphasize that this work means absolutely NO disrespect to the real veterans - this work of fiction is based solely on the characters in the TV Series 💖
“Well, how do y’all like 2023 so far?” Zay asked over her shoulder, the three arriving at a pair of elevators.
“It’s certainly… something,” Joe replied hesitantly, causing Zay to let out a quiet giggle. The trio made their way back to the emergency room, Zay leading them back to the beds. The nurse stopped at another desk similar to the one Liebgott and Speirs saw before, asking which bed Malarkey was in. After the short conversation, Zay led Liebgott and Speirs through the maze of hospital beds and patients before finally arriving at the rest of Easy Company. They saw Malarkey laying in his bed, the top half of the bed raised so the soldier was sitting up. The rest of the boys were spread around his bed, some in chairs, others standing and leaning against the wall. Zay could barely contain her shock and excitement - ten people from the show that she has seen way too many times, honestly she could probably quote each episode word for word, were right before her. Surveying the men, Zay smiled and put her hands on her hips.
“So this is Easy Company,” she mused before all of the boys who were sitting compulsively shot to their feet, quickly reminding Zay of the strict etiquette rules of their time. She let out a laugh before she said, “Oh sit please! No need to stand on ceremony!” What Zay did not know was that the men were utterly enamoured - they did not know what to make of the nurse. She was unlike anyone any of them had ever met; she was bright, bubbly, outgoing, but exuded an air of openness and authenticity, something that made the boys feel safe and at home, even in such an alien place. One by one, the boys who were sitting slowly sat back down.
Suddenly snapping back into his leadership role, Dick stepped forward and outstretched his hand. “Ma’am, I’m Richard Winters, thank you for meeting with us,” he said politely, trying desperately to hide his nerves. Dick felt something he had never felt before - simultaneously, he felt safe and comfortable, but incredibly nervous, as if he was going to say something wrong. Zay smiled and shook Dick’s hand with a gentle but decisive grip - he could have sworn there was a spark.
“Azalea Bennett! You can call me Zay though,” she introduced herself to the captain. “And I think I know everyone here…” Zay took a survey around the small area sectioned off by rolling curtain dividers. “Looks like we have Lewis Nixon, George Luz, Bill Guarnere, Joe Toye, Bull Randleman, Doc Roe, an injured Don Malarkey,” she pointed to each man as she named him before turning to look beside her. “Joe Liebgott, Ron Speirs,” Zay finally turned to the quiet leader before her, “and captain Dick Winters.” There were mixed reactions from the boys. Most of the company were impressed and amused by the nurse’s memory, while Guarnere and Toye kept their guard up.
“How the fuck do you know our names?” Guarnere asked defensively.
“Don’t swear around the lady Gonorrhea!” Toye scolded as he smacked the man’s arm.
Zay let out another laugh before Guarnere could retaliate at his friend. “Okay, first, I don’t give a fuck if you swear around me,” Zay commented. The twenty eyebrows in the room shot to the ceiling when they heard the lady swear so casually - maybe they might like 2023. “And to answer your question… I’m not really sure how to tell y’all this,” she buried her hands in her shirt pockets, looking at the ground. “So… um…” Zay tried to find her words, the eight soldiers waiting anxiously. “There’s this TV show, called Band of Brothers, that follows the soldiers of Easy Company and all of their missions and challenges as they fight the Germans in Europe.” Zay meekly looked up to survey the boys, trying to gauge their reactions. Some looked at her with their jaws on the floor, unable to believe her words. Others were staring into space, attempting to process the revelation. Speirs and Liebgott were surveying the reactions with Zay, while Malarkey spoke up.
“So, here, we’re all just characters in a TV show?” There was a certain quality to Don’s voice - it almost sounded like disappointment. Back home, or at least in Europe, they were fighting the war to end all wars. Here, they were just some characters on television.
“Well, not exactly,” Zay explained, “your characters are all based on real people that really fought in Europe, y’all are portraying them in the show, telling their stories.”
“So if we looked for them, we could find people with our names?” George asked from beside the hospital bed.
“Well… you’d have to look in cemeteries,” Zay replied solemnly, “the war was eighty years ago, I don’t think anyone from Easy Company is still alive.” Heads nodded in understanding to Zay’s statement. “Do y’all know how you got here? Or how to get back?” Zay asked the men, scanning their faces with her ultramarine eyes. Her eyes may have been framed by her glasses, but they never obscured the authenticity that shone from her expressions.
“Hate to say it, but no, we have no idea how any of this happened,” Nixon spoke up from his spot leaning on the wall.
“So what exactly happened?” Zay replied, stepping a bit closer to the group. The men looked around at each other… who was going to tell her what happened? Would she believe them? Would this be the breaking point?
Eugene spoke up after a beat of silence, “Well, we were in Bastogne, and we started taking hits, so of course I dove into a foxhole. Except, I never hit the bottom…” the medic looked down at his hands, as if this was painful to remember. “It was probably only a few seconds, but honestly, it felt like I was falling for ages, and everything was pitch black,” he mumbled the last part under his breath, “it was terrifying.” Roe took a deep breath and shook his head, shaking away the painful memories. “Next thing I knew, I was landing on the concrete, and all these boys were falling from the sky.” Roe pointed around the room with a small smile on his face, earning a sparse chuckle from the room.
“I saw him fall in and not come out, so I jumped in to try and see what happened, then the same thing happened to me,” Liebgott spoke up from behind Zay. “Then that one landed on top of me,” he pointed at Bull with a smirk. “Don’t know how I didn’t bite it.” The group laughed as Bull shot Joe a wink.
“You’re welcome,” Randleman replied with a laugh.
“Toye and I went in after Bull,” Guarnere chimed in, “then I think Lieutenant Speirs tumbled in after us.” He looked over to Ron, who has been leaning on the wall next to Nixon.
“Yeah, a blast threw me backwards into the foxhole,” the officer explained.
“When I saw him go in I wanted to make sure he was okay, so of course I followed,” Nixon added.
“Of course I couldn’t let him go alone,” Winters interjected with a laugh, giving heart eyes to his best friend.
“When I saw the captain go in, the bombardments finally stopped, so Luz and I ran over to make sure he was okay, but of course that didn’t go as planned,” Malarkey shot a playful glare to Luz, who was sitting on the floor near the foot of his bed.
“I said I was sorry!” Luz held up his hands in surrender. The group let out another laugh - everyone could tell that they were starting to relax in the unfamiliar environment.
“You wouldn’t happen to know how we could get back to our own… time, do you?” Dick asked the nurse, looking at her with shyer eyes than he had intended.
“I have no idea, but I’d be happy to help you figure it out!” she said with a smile, the brightest smile any of the men had seen. “Do y’all have a place to stay?”
“Can’t say that we do,” Winters answered, glancing back at Nixon - the officer nodded his head, affirming Winters’ statement.
“If y’all want, you’re more than welcome to stay with me and my sister,” Zay offered bashfully, her eyes going to the floor. “My sister watches the show, so she’d know you guys too.” Everyone looked to captain Winters to see what his decision was. No one would admit it, but each of the men were hoping that their CO would agree to stay with the blue-haired girl.
Dick took a moment to think it over before he replied, “I’m not really sure if we have any other option.” He smiled and nodded his head at Zay, a silent acceptance of her offer for a roof over their heads and a safe place to sleep.
“Great! My sister’s actually on her way, I’ll talk to the doctor and see if we can get Malarkey discharged,” Zay replied happily, a bounce appearing in her step as she walked off to the desk in the middle of the room.
“I think I might like 2023,” Luz spoke up with a smirk.
“Hey! I saw her first!” Liebgott spoke up indignantly, sending a glare to Luz.
“Men, she is our host here and you will treat her with respect,” Winters scolded his men in a firm tone. Nixon and Speirs could not help but let out a scoff at Dick’s words, both of the officers quickly going to cover their mouths. “What?” Winters prodded, becoming slightly defensive at their antics.
“Dick, we all saw how you looked at her earlier,” Nixon responded in earnest. Before the captain could reply, their modern-times hostess returned to the group.
“Y’all are all set to go! My shift ends in a few minutes, so as soon as my sister gets here we’ll head out,” she explained happily, bubbly energy exuding from her.
“Thank you for helping us,” Eugene spoke up, a humble and thankful expression on his face, “I know you kind of know us, so to speak, but still, to take ten strangers into your home is one of the biggest acts of kindness I’ve seen.” Zay blushed a bright red and turned her gaze to the floor, unable to hide the smile spreading across her face.
“It’s nothing, really,” she replied shyly, “but that means a lot to hear from you.” Zay met Roe’s gaze for a moment before going back to the floor, her blush nearly matching her hair in regards to the saturation of the color. Before anyone could chastise Roe for his (what Roe would call unintentional) flirtations, everyone heard an odd sound come from Zay’s pocket. Only Zay knew that the sound was her cell phone’s ringtone, Somebody to Love by Queen, but all Easy Company heard was an unfamiliar song and the voice of an angel. The nurse pulled her phone out of her pocket and held it up to her ear. “Hey! Are you here?... Great! I’ll meet you by my car! See you in a sec!” Zay tapped the lit-up rectangle before putting it back in her pocket. “My sister Chrys just got here! Stay here, I’ll get my things and then we can head out.” She turned on her heel, her signature bounce appearing in her step. Liebgott waited for the nurse to be out of earshot before turning to the medic seated next to Malarkey.
“TaKiNg StRaNgErS iNtO yOuR hOmE-” Before Liebgott could finish his mockery of Roe, the medic spoke up to defend himself.
“Hey! I’m just trying to be nice!” Eugene rebutted, voice laced with his trademark Cajun accent. Liebgott, Luz, and Roe began to bicker over flirting with Zay, Guarnere and Toye leaning back and watching the show with amusement. Bull looked on at the three arguing as well, waiting to see how things would turn out. Before things got too out of hand, Zay returned, a multicolored backpack slung across her shoulder.
“Alright! Malarkey is free to go! Ready boys?” She asked, clearly trying to contain her excitement. All ten boys felt their hearts warm at the sight. Roe helped Malarkey out of the bed, the redhead starting to stand on his own. Zay led the men to the elevator, the eleven of them packing in like sardines. Zay wound up squished between the corner, Winters, and Luz. She pushed a button on the side with the label “Garage” beside it before she smiled shyly at the men, backing up against the wall as much as she could. Luz and Winters tried to give the girl as much space as they could, but of course, said space was quite limited. While Winters kept his gaze firmly affixed on his feet, as if he would lose them if he looked away, George snuck a glance at Zay, returning her shy smile as he noticed the blush on her cheeks. As soon as her eyes met his, Zay immediately shifted her gaze to the floor, now staring at her shoes just as intently as Winters. Luz had to bite his lip to keep his smile from growing wider. All too quickly the elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal the gray concrete of the hospital's parking garage. The boys filed out quickly, waiting for Zay to lead them to her car.
To anyone else, the group would look like little lost ducklings following their colorful mother duck. A mixture of emotions swam around the group - some were relieved that they found someone who not only knew this time period, but also knew them and liked them. Others were still coming to terms that something as fantastical as time travel happened to the company. How were they going to explain this to the rest of Easy? Or to Colonel Sink? Others in the group continued to be wary of Zay, especially Speirs and Guarnere. While they were greateful for the help, how did they know they could trust her? As for Zay, a mixture of emotions coursed through her body - excitement that she was about to spend time with the people who lived in her head rent-free, joy that she could help people who were need, and a hint of doubt that this was all actually happening… if she told anyone about this, would they believe her?
Zay led the group before everyone noticed the lights illuminate on a yellow car with a soft roof. The car had an emblem with a running horse on the back of it, something that only Zay recognized as a Ford Mustang. As if on cue, a bronze, sleek sports car came around the corner and stopped near the men. Zay put her backpack in her car's trunk before greeting the driver stepping out of the newly arrived Nissan Z-Car. The driver was a woman with short, curly black hair, the bangs and tips dyed bright firetruck red. Her look was punctuated by a pair of minimalist snake-bite piercings beneath her lower lip. The girl was wearing a set of auto-mechanic’s coveralls in classic navy blue, the name “Chrys” embroidered in cursive on the front. Zay engulfed the newcomer in a hug, earning the nurse a mild scolding.
“Zay! You’re gonna make me fall!” the girl laughed before loosely returning Zay’s ambush hug. Zay simply giggled and pulled away enough to talk to the girl, Zay’s arm still wrapped around her shoulder.
“Sorry Chrys! I just got excited,” Zay replied, turning her head to look at the group around her car. “Boys, this is my twin sister Chrys! She was kind enough to take the rest of the evening off work to help y’all get settled,” she announced, looking at Chrys with a proud smile. Chrys offered an awkward wave and a “hello” to the rest of group, not expecting the introduction. The boys replied in greeting before Liebgott spoke up.
“Shit! Captain Winters, we need to get our weapons from up front,” he reported urgently. Zay gave the group a confused look before Joe explained further, “We weren’t allowed to bring our weapons into the hospital, so we stashed them in the bushes up front, we put our helmets there too so we wouldn’t have to carry them.”
Zay nodded in understanding before turning to Chrys, “Do you wanna take half in your car and half in mine, then one of us can put their weapons in the trunk?”
Chrys nodded, turning to the group in front of her. “Alright guys, we gotta split up into two groups for the cars, who wants to go with who?”
“I’ll go with Zay!” Luz volunteered, all too eagerly.
“Me too!” followed Liebgott, glaring at Luz.
Nixon chuckled and shook his head at their antics. “I can go with Chrys,” he offered, meeting her eyes for the first time. Just like that, he knew he needed to know her.
“Me too,” Speirs chimed in. He refused to be in the same car as a bickering Luz and Liebgott.
“Can I just have a front seat, whoever I ride with?” Bull asked around his Emotional Support Cigar.
“Yeah sure, I think my front is roomier,” Chrys replied, Zay nodding along.
“Malarkey, do you and Doc Roe wanna come with me, so that you have medical support just in case anything happens?” The two men nodded in response to her question. Winters simply folded his arms, trying to mask his disappointment with focus. “And then captain Winters can take the last seat in my car, so that we have the officers spread out?” Dick’s eyes lit up at Zay’s offer, trying his best to just act casual.
“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” he rambled out. “That leaves Guarnere and Toye with Chrys, right?”
“Yeah, I’m good with that,” Guarnere responded. He looked at Toye for his response, who nodded along.
“So it’s Nixon, Speirs, Bull, Guarnere, and Toye with Chrys, and Winters, Roe, Malarkey, Liebgott, and Luz with me, right?” Zay said, confirming the riding arrangements.
“Sounds about right,” Chrys agreed. “Now, just so y’all know, we each only have four seats technically, so someone is going to have to lay across three of y’all in the back.” Some of the men’s eyes grew wide, while others laughed at the notion.
“Enjoy figuring that out, boys,” Bull mused while walking to Chrys’ car. After a few more minutes of discussion and bickering, moderated by Winters, the seating arrangements were agreed upon. In Zay’s car, Malarkey would ride in the front, with Winters, Liebgott, and Roe in the back, Luz laying on top of them. In Chrys’ car, Bull would be in the front, with Nixon, Speirs, and Guarnere sitting in the back, and Joe Toye laying across them. Everyone shifted into their assigned seats/positions, some more willingly than others.
“Someone’s gonna fucking die…” Toye muttered under his breath as he laid across the three men, anger exuding from every pore in his face. Speirs and Nixon were able to keep a straight face, albeit with substantial effort, while Bull simply turned his face away and focused on his ESC. Guarnere, however, could not help the giggles that befell him. The harder he tried to suppress them, the more intense they became. Toye made a mental note to get Gonorrhea back for this…
Meanwhile, in the yellow mustang, Luz was getting situated on his human couch, inadvertently sticking his ass right into Liebgott’s face. “Hey! Watch where you’re sticking that thing!” Joe yelled as he tried to evade touching George’s ass with his face.
“Yeah! That’s a dangerous weapon!” Malarkey called out from his seat up front. Everyone in the car erupted into laughter, save for Luz who shot Don a playful glare.
“I said I was sorry like a million times!” the radioman yelled, sounding very much like a little kid. Once both sisters knew everyone was situated, they drove out of the parking garage. Stopping briefly to place their once-hidden belongings in Chrys’ trunk, the two cars made their way to the twins’ apartment complex. Something that blew the boys’ minds while en route was how the girls played their music during the drive. At first, the men assumed they just had a radio in their cars, which they thought was neat already. However, when Chrys and Zay explained to their respective soldiers how “the cloud” and Spotify work, their minds were utterly blown. This was all the twelve kids talked about as they made their way home.
~~~~~
Chapter 2 | Chapter 4
Taglist: @b00ks1ut , @blueberry-ovaries , @bucky32557038ww2 , @claudycod , @dontirrigateme , @emilee1421 , @executethyself35 , @hanniewinnix , @ithinkabouttzu , @jump-wings , @love--persevering , @panzershrike-pretz , @stolen94 , @xxluckystrike
As always thank you so much for reading!! Chapter 4 will drop next week 😁💕
#should've been born later nix#band of brothers#band of brothers fanfic#hbo#hbo war#easy company#credit to pic owners in chapter collage!#my writing#time travel#easy company x oc#richard winters#dick winters#lewis nixon#ronald speirs#ron speirs#eugene roe#gene roe#doc roe#george luz#joe liebgott#joseph liebgott#joe toye#joseph toye#william guarnere#bill guarnere#ol' gonorrhea#donald malarkey#don malarkey#denver randleman#bull randleman
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Bullies and a Date
Day 5 of @intrulogicalweek and I have swapped out the prompt. I just don't vibe with drag guys, I don't know why. Just not my thing. So instead have some Nerd!Remus and Punk!Logan 💙💚
Masterpost | Intrulogical Week 23 Masterpost | Ao3
Summary: Remus gets bullied and gets unexpected help.
Content Warnings: Bullying, Flirting
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You should have known better than cross my way, nerd.”
Remus had heard this spiel a hundred times before. It was boring him to tears, but he couldn't show that. It might earn him a black eye and his mom would kill him if he wasn’t presentable for the charity event she was hosting this weekend. So, he did his best to look properly scared by the two football players crowding him against his locker.
“At a loss for words, loser? Huh?” A push to his shoulder and Remus winced. “Say something!”
“Leave him alone, Jägerman,” a new voice spoke up from close by. Remus’ eyes widen as they fall onto Logan Croft. The senior looked almost bored as he watched the scene in front of him, his icy blue eyes piercing into the bully’s back.
With another shove, Remus is released, and his attacker turns around to face the newcomer.
“Fuck off, Croft. This is none of your business.”
“Maybe not, but I’m also not going to stand by and just let you do whatever you want.”
“You should though. ‘Cause I always to whatever I want. This is my turf, asshole,” Jägerman spat and advanced on Logan, who didn’t even flinch. Remus nervously chewed on his lower lip as he watched the scene, but the other footballer was still too close to him to make a run for it.
Not that he really wanted to. After all, he wasn’t about to abandon his helper.
“You are so very eloquent with your words,” Logan scoffed. “Don’t you have to get to remedial algebra? Or do you plan to fail the year so you can stay at school for a little longer and continue your power trip?”
“You really have some nerve to talk to me like this, punk,” Jägerman bit out between gritted teeth. He stepped into Logan’s personal space, crowding him, but the other didn’t react with more than a raised brow.
With an angry growl, Jägerman pulled back his fist and tried to ram it into Logan’s stomach but the other grabbed his arm tightly before he could do so.
“I know how to defend myself, Jägerman. And if you don’t want me to break your arm, you better leave right now.”
The bell rung. From where he was standing, Remus couldn’t see the quarterback’s face, but he was pretty sure that Jägerman must be looking furious. His back was shaking with barely controlled rage at least.
“This isn’t over, Croft,” he growled before pulling his arm free and stalking down the hallway, his buddy close behind. Remus watched him until he rounded a corner.
“Are you alright?”
Remus’ neck hurt after his head swirled around fast to face Logan, staring at him intently from only a few steps away. The punk was wearing his signature denim jacket with a collage of pins, combat boots, a long, dark blue skirt, a chain belt, a dark shirt with a red print, and a blue-striped tie that hung loosely around his neck.
Damn, he was hot.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Remus yelped. He reached up to nervously right his glasses and he could feel the flush spreading across his cheeks.
“Good.” The smile that appeared on Logan’s face was utterly unfair, Remus decided. How was he supposed to keep calm when he smiled like that? “See ya.”
“Wait!” he called, a little too loud considering Logan hadn’t even taken more than one step away from him. The punk froze, turning back to him with a raised brow. “Would you… Uhm…” He swallowed nervously. “Can I… I’d like to buy you a drink if you don’t mind.”
Logan’s eyebrow wandered even higher.
“That’s alright, I don’t need thank you gifts.”
“No, that’s not what I… Well, kind of, but I meant more like… like a date?” Remus was blushing hard by the end of it, but Logan didn’t look convinced.
“Look, I’m flattered, but just because I saved you once doesn’t mean that I—”
“That’s not why!” Remus cut him off. “I’ve had a crush on you for months.”
“Is that so?” He sounded amused and Remus almost pouted. Almost.
“Yes. At first, I was just admiring your style. If my mom wasn’t such an order fanatic, I’d wear stuff like that, too, but she’d lose her shit if she found anything like that in our house.” Remus’ cheeks felt like they were set aflame, but he couldn’t stop his rambling. “But on top of your clothes, you’re hot, smart and don’t take shit from anyone. It’s honestly kinda unfair how attractive you are.”
By the end of his speech, he was slightly out of breath. He hadn’t even noticed that Logan had come closer, now only an armlength away from him.
“You’re quite honest,” he smirked, leaning a bit closer.
Remus felt like his head might explode. “So I’ve been told. Though usually that’s seen as a bad thing.”
Logan just watched him for a moment before chuckling quietly.
“You know what? You’re quite intriguing. I’ll take you up on your offer. You got time after school?”
“Y-yeah! I’ve got a free period now and after that A-level physics, but after that I’m free.”
“Good. I’ll meet you at the main gate then.”
“Okay,” Remus squeaked. Logan smirked and then turned and walked away with a little wave.
Remus’ legs got weak. He actually managed to get a date with Logan Croft.
His brother’s gonna flip his lid.
#namiswriting#intrulogical week 2023#day 5: bullies/nerd#intrulogical#ts remus#remus sanders#ts logan#logan sanders#bullying#flirting#nerd!remus#punk!logan#max jägerman cameo#nerdy prudes must die references#sanders sides#fanfiction#reblogs are appreciated
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I personally don't believe Legoland was pre-cyclone. I believe it is and only was post-cyclone.
Let me explain myself before you start telling me I'm wrong
Jane Doe was the one unidentified body of the cyclone disaster. She was unidentified because she lost her head and it was never found, Nor could anyone in Uranium recall her
And you might say "Oh but she just came to Uranium after her parents got arrested so nobody got used to her yet" that's where your wrong. Penny Lamb had a criminal record by 15 years of age and her brother Erza sold his medication to collage kids for money, I've never been to Canada yet but I'm sure anywhere in the world if a pair of kids that young came anywhere with a history of parents that grew weed and did and still does all that stuff? That news would spread like wildfire
And if Penny had a brother how was she unidentified if Erza could very well have went to the corner himself and outright told them she had gotten on the ride and it must be her. But again how in God's name would a card like Penny Lamb be left to a Jane Doe after all the stuff she's done back when she was 15?
Now think if Jane was originally someone else
A girl who did in-fact joined the choir late and didn't bother to talk to alot of people around Uranium because she planned to pack her things and leave as soon as she graduated
Excluding herself from any social gatherings, Any school events that aren't mandatory, only going out to get food so she can continue to live. Someone who never made friends because she didn't want to say goodbye
Someone nameless.
Think about it; With Jane originally being Penny there's a shit tone of plot holes but if Jane was someone totally different who never made herself known because she had the same goals as everyone else in the choir, It makes sense.
She'd have no friends so nobody in any of her classes could tell the corner anything, No shop workers probably didn't know more than maybe what groceries she bought every time she came, There's the possibility her parents were either out of the picture or didn't care enough to identify her; Neglectful or downright horrible parents are things that can happen in the real world and which we see with Mischa, Noel, And Ocean
And let's be honest, Ocean's parents were most likely not the ones to come claim her, It would most likely be people from St. Cassian and around Uranium considering how loud and "overpositive" she was which was most likely a huge contrast from everyone else
Constance we know had parents who ran the Blackwood Café which would make her well known among the town
Noel we know has a mom and was the only openly gay kid in a homophobic town and he was always told to dial it back so by that logic he had to have stuck out alot, Making him known
Mischa was the town's teenage fuck-up, He stole communion wine, He seemed to have caused some problems here and there which again makes him known
And Ricky was always acknowledged as some helpless boy because he was disabled which caused everyone to treat him hell-of-a-lot differently which obviously made him known and we know he had helicopter parents so-
And Jane? Well if she were Penny she would be well known enough to at least have a name to her corpse. But no Jane didn't get that, Which means she must have been someone duller, Someone more forgettable.
Someone nobody would know even existed till she was dead
Someone like the nameless person we see in at the fair with the choir.
And Karnak stated multiple times that he didn't know who Jane was and he genuinely feels guilty about having these CHILDREN die without doing anything so why would he lie when he can very well make them so much happier by telling Jane who she was, Having her remember so she has her own song to sing and not one of a nameless face
Think what you will but I highly doubt Penny was pre-cyclone with the amount of plot holes in that theory. But rather Penny is post-cyclone thus leaving the Cyclone's Jane Doe to a new story to begin but never an old story to tell.
(I suck at explaining shit😭)
#rtc musical#ride the cyclone#jane doe rtc#rtc headcanons#rtc theory#ocean oconnell rosenberg#mischa bachinski#noel gruber#constance blackwood#ricky potts#the amazing karnak#penny lamb#legoland
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Things I would have wanted from a teen wolf movie:
(partially keeping in mind canon and what characters are not currently returning)
I could seriously sit through hours of just Scott McCall going around and doing good deeds during his college years.
Maybe guiding young supernaturals.
He's having a good time in vet school. Probably has a rad internship where he is the most loved intern by people and animals.
if Stiles cant be there then nothing drastic happens so it makes sense that Scott wouldn't have to call in him,
but maybe Stiles sends him a conspiracy board in an email to be helpful. It's probably too convoluted to be legible to anyone but him.
Scott and Malia finally get to enjoy a long term relationship uncomplicated by supernatural means.
Mason and Corey also get to have this
If we could have Kira back I would personally love for her and Scott to get back together
(and honestly, if they’re going to put Scott and Kira together, then Scott and Malia, and put in the scenes of Kira and Malia together they might as well all date. That might be optimistic of me.)
Speaking of Kira, would love to see her come into her power as a kitsune
would love to have her back at all actually
Malia doesn't have to go to collage because she's skilled as fuck in other aspects and her intelligence isn't based on how well she does in school.
I feel like she would enjoy being a park ranger or something.
We actually get to see Henry Tate be the good dad who loves his daughter that we were shown he was
If Malia wants a relationship with Peter he should just get his shit together and do that for her
Lydia just gets to do what the fuck ever, completely unincumbered by gross ass men and adults telling her she doesn't know what she's talking about.
an actual apology from Jackson would be nice if he has to be there
Buddy duo Liam and Mason show up and they have some fun shenanigans.
If Corey can’t be there maybe he's busy with an exchange program or an internship
They. are. all. going. to. the. same. college.
Or close by
They just get to be regular ass teenagers because the McCall pack worked their asses off to give themselves a normal college life and to let those guys have some regular teenage years
Scott gets to reassure Liam that he's doing a good job in Beacon Hills with help from Mason, Corey, Theo, and Alec (and eventually probably Nolan)
"We're brothers now" and they meant that
Nolan gets therapy
Theo gets therapy
(They all need it)
Theo is fully a member of the pack
he has a house or an apartment
if he’s not there he’s just riding around in his stupid compensation truck
They bring back Isaac from London and he’s doing great
Melissa and Chris should adopt that boy even if he's an adult.
Just let him have one parental figure who is good and stays
We finally get to see Hayden Romero do cool werewolf stunts
they let her be more than HaydenLiam’sExGirlfriend
maybe they give her a girlfriend
Melissa/Chris and Braeden/Derek just get to be happy
We get Cora Hale back because both her and Derek deserve to have a normal family member who is alive and loves them after everything
Her and Malia would also be a phenomenal cousin duo
her and isaac get to talk about Boyd becuase they both cared about and lost him. Issac gets to talk about Erica
Maybe someone finally puts Kate Argent in jail
#this is me hating the movie in a more passive way after writing a more aggressive post for myself#and if youve seen the art on my blog#You can guess what couple id make canon in the damn movie#thiam#And if we’re really going for it Isaac either ends up with scott#Or somewhere in Scott/Kira/Malia#and becomes a son in law to Melissa and Chris rather than being adopted#teen wolf#teen wolf the movie#feel free to add#i think we're all a bit peeved at this point
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Under My Roof — Ji Changmin
SYNOPSIS; you told changmin that you would do anything, and you mean anything, to have a place to stay for a couple of nights. although, you were a little taken aback by the things he requested from you.
PAIRING; changmin x reader
GENRE; drama, a bit suggestive.
WORD COUNT; 0.7k
TAGS/WARNINGS; changmin is lowkey a bad/fuck boy, reader just wants to live her life, story is lowkey played out like a japanese anime 😟, rude!changmin, pothead!changmin, both reader and changmin go to the same collage but it’s not really mentioned in the story, mention of sleeping together, mention of fake dating, mild language.
AUTHORS NOTE; i wrote this within like 30 mins so it’s short.
“and fuck you too!” you yelled as you watched your landlord practically throw your stuff out of your shitty apartment into the dusty hallway, her disappearing around the corner after she was done with you. you couldn’t believe you had gotten kicked out of your apartment just because you got on the landlords bad side.
taking in a deep breath, you squatted down to pick up your stuff. as you were practically shoving your thrown out clothes into your suitcase, your attention was caught when your next door neighbor, opened his door.
“changmin..?” you squinted your eyes at him, your head tilting with curiosity. “uh, yeah?” he raised a brow at you, leaning on his doorframe as he stared at your hunched over figure. “you’re my neighbor?” you asked as he took a long wif of his cigarette and puffed it out into the dirty halls.
“you mean i was your neighbor? seems like you just got kicked out.”
“well- i mean- yeah.. i did… but why do you care?”
“i don’t, you were the one who brought it up.”
why did being around him always have to make you get the worst second hand embarrassment ever?
“i just came out here to see what all of the yelling was about but now that i know it was just you, i’m not as interested anymore,” he sighed and turned around, about to shut his door when his attention was caught by the sudden cling to his door handle. “wait!” he groaned and rolled his eyes.
“what is it?”
“can i please stay the night? you’re the only person i know around here and i don’t want to be sleeping on the streets.”
it was already 10:58 pm, there was no way he could just let a young girl out on the streets with no way to protect herself!
he looked you up and down. on second thought, maybe it might have been better to just tend to the streets. “i’ll pass,” he tried closing his door again but you pushed against him.
“please!”
“what about your parents?"
“they live towns upon towns away, i couldn’t possibly be able to attend class with that amount of distance.”
“well that’s not my problem.”
“please.. i’ll do anything.”
as much as changmin hated girls who were persistent as hell and bothered him all of the time, there was no way he could pass up on a girl at his doorstep who was begging to stay the night and willing to do anything to do so.
“anything, you say?”
you nod frantically, unsure of what crude things he had in mind.
“fine.”
“thank you!”
you breathed out before practically barging in past him and dropping your stuff inside. the place reeked with smoke and other substances that didn’t smell anything like normal cigarettes, stains upon stains on his couches and crevices, empty and moldy dishes lying around that made you honestly want to pick up your stuff and actually sleep on the streets forever. but, he was kind enough to at least give you a roof so sleep under.
“so they’ll let you smoke as much weed as you want but they won’t let me paint the furniture white?” you raised a brow as you saw bags upon bags of substances stacked on his counter. he shrugged and put out his cigarette in the ash tray next to the door.
“so, where am i sleeping?” you asked, setting your things up neatly against the wall for now. “with me,” you nearly choked on your own spit.
“what?” he shrugged.
“you said you’d do anything to stay here, i say you let me have my way with you.”
“absolutely not.”
“then get out.”
“isn’t there anything else i can do for you? like, clean your house or pay most of the bill for you? i’d say both of those are pretty good options.”
you were both interrupted by an unexpected text chiming from changmin’s phone, him pushing past you to answer it. it took him a couple of minutes to read it, his expression contorting into a furrowed and stressed out one. “on second thought,” he set his phone down after hitting send on his phone. “i have something different i want you to do instead.”
“and that would be?”
“could you maybe, pretend to be my girlfriend?”
© cobiehaven 2023
#cobiehaven#ji changmin#changmin#the boyz#tbz#tbz changmin#changmin x reader#tbz q#tbz sangyeon#tbz jacob#tbz younghoon#tbz hyunjae#tbz jaehyun#tbz juyeon#tbz kevin#tbz new#tbz chanhee#tbz sunwoo#tbz eric#tbz haknyeon
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MIXED FEELINGS
Neito Monoma x Reader
Synopsis: y/n l/n an ordinary college student who is trying their best to just graduate. Though even if they were quite known around the campus there are still some people who disliked them. One being no other than Neito Monoma. So what happens when they get paired up on a project and he changes y/n's life completely?
warning: swearing, bullying, abuse, drinking, suggestive themes, teasing.
genre: collage au, social media au, no quirks, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff.
taglist: open
CHAPTER TWELVE || WHAT DO YOU KNOW?
<chapter eleven || materlist || chapter thirteen>
▪︎___________°••>>>*<<<••°___________▪︎
"Bye doofus!" y/n called out, waving a bit before making their way down the hall. Neito grunts, waving as he watches them leave before turning the opposite side and making his way to his class. Honestly, he wasn't sure what the fuck has been happening these days, his feelings towards y/n being very confusing as well. Like, he doesn't hate them but also doesn't want to be friends with them? It's quite confusing for sure. Talking to his friends might help but he knows that they will tease him for it which he did not want at all. So, he will leave that if he absolutely needs to, to the last decision if he doesn't figure it himself first.
Letting out a sigh, he pushed his hands into his pockets, making his way down the hall. Though, just as he reached his class, he got stopped by two people, y/n's friends.
Iida, Todoroki and Midoriya.
He raised an eyebrow at them "Hello Monoma, can we talk for a bit?" Shoto spoke up, looking at the blonde who grunted "what about?" He asked, quite confused on what they wanted to talk about. "Well it's about you and y/n." Midoriya spoke, fiddling with the notebook in his hands "yes, we would like to ask, did something happen between you two? I mean..you two started to hang out more often and y/n even came to school with a black eye and we know it wasn't because of you" Iida spoke, making a neito groan slightly "Listen. As much as I would love to tell you, I can't tell you everything" he spoke, looking at the three male's
"And besides, we were just hanging out because of the goddamn project" he spoke, half lying since they have hung out and not worked on it. "Sorry I cannot tell you much, it isn't my business or place to do so" he waved them off, knowing he can't say anything since it's y/n decision if they want their friends to know or not
The Three exchange a look before Shoto nods "okay, thank you. It was useful" he said as the three agreed. Neito stared at them, before nodding his head and moving in his classroom, leaving three three. Fuck, now he has to talk to y/n and tell them about this situation. Maybe it will change their mind about not telling their friends about this.
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taglist: @legolashaught @touyatodorokislut @otomegame-oneshots @dokxxhvhdklkkjjhhgggdj @blue-violin @speadrunner
#bnha#bnha smau#boku no hero academia#smau#bnha x reader#bnha x male reader#bnha x y/n#bnha x gender neutral reader#bnha x self insert#monoma smau#bnha monoma#monoma x reader#monoma x y/n#monoma neito#monoma x gender netrual reader#shoto todoroki#midoriya izuku#iida tenya#tsuyu asai#uraraka ochacho#kendo itsuka#tetsutetsu tetsutetsu
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diary17
9/21-22/2023
a pleasing series of numbers above. i'm chilling and listening to kreayshawn.
recently i saw a guy say kreayshawn is like super embarrassing. that's so lame, she's so dope to me. that guy just can't #gohard i guess. it was just funny seeing him articulate that, it's really an opinion that can't actually bother me that much cuz it's like, whatever.
i did 3 songs today. not 5 but today was heavy on trying to improve guitar sounds in one song, and 2 songs that basically sound good already i think, just getting them a bit clearer. so that's like, 21/25, i think. i don't know if i'll finish up by tomorrow or slow a bit, i shouldn't introduce that possibility but these upcoming songs are definitely the ones which are the most different, i think, but they might also need a ton of work because they aren't intensive on a sound that's complex like the guitar synths, which still elude me somewhat when it comes to getting riffs that sound like, idk, orchid/jerome's dream and so on out. i think some of the older super fucked up high gain ones might be good but they have a feeling of cheapness, i could possibly get them more articulate with all that distortion still with these new mixing tools though, and get them sparkling right. the sounds i'm going after are cheap anyways, or are pretty simple as far as getting them from a guitar (a lot of these guys had amp distortion only i think) so it's just about getting things to not sound, i dunno, wrong is the only way to put it. i could go do that, maybe, but i have brian eno on now (third uncle).
last night i did go look at stuff on flickr, not too much for collages but some funny photos of people.
i need to find more photos people took of awful maggots and grubs and things.
other news is that i'm thinking about the youtube trend, not trend, it's i guess taken its place as a genre, fully, the videos of people basically discussing lolcows and just any person really, explaining everything to you, everything wrong they did and how crazy they went and how funny (in some cases) the tragedy of someone basically reaching a point in their life that they will never be okay again is, and how these get millions of views. the people who make these videos are basically in the grip of this terrible need to always say that they're just being neutral and not trying to peddle any ideology, theirs or any other, just trying to present the story. they keep a tight mouth about what they do believe, but i get distinct senses about where they are. it's basically terrifying to me that this stuff reaches huge amounts of people and that sort of blindness to what ideology even is, how it works, and how it is spread. the idea that you can be without ideology/that you aren't complicit in its spread (especially in that sphere) is basically part of the ideology, a reactionary turn against the idea of thinking about why you want to tell a story in the first place, what that person's life is being made to mean by the telling of the story (almost always these people are examples of what should elicit total disgust, people fashioned into caricatures through harassment and so on, or people discovered for the purposes of carrying around and saying: be aware, we share our world with this, be vigilant and attack). the fear of being taken as saying anything, adherence to an outward friendliness and simply being someone who wants to tell 'strange' stories about people who only just happen to represent some kind of failure to the vast majority of everyone on earth, and told from the position of not being involved, a real outsider passing on something that resembles a folk-legend of some terrible figure, it's weird. i am basically lying in wait/terror of the reactionary turn among the people younger than me obsessed with that kind of shit, when it becomes evident to them that these things were saying something, and that they think it's good.
plenty of nazis will tell you how important 'lolcow' culture is to them.
anyways, an ugly topic to be certain, but it's weird to see how popular that shit is on yt. i should think it over more, there's probably more to it, how the videos are structured/edited. there's potential for a more whole kind of analysis of this. but it's an evolution of the classical kind of sideshow horror thing.
maybe i am just overthinking it on some level though. surely not even 10% of these people are going to internalize this in a violent way. just the normal way where they find some people gently disgusting and keep it hemmed in, behind their lips forever.
this stuff really shouldn't matter.
it's crazy how many people are into this stuff though. i wonder if i count, i used to read about all this as a kid on ed. after a certain point i quit giving a shit.
i like regular gossip, about people i know, in real life.
it's crazy to hear, from gossip, about people who are really quite awful, and evil, and then you see them, regular as anything else, and knowing that they did something unforgivable, and that they don't care at all.
i'm just going to listen to jerome's dream and think about guitars instead of continuing these trains of thought. i'm sure they will return. everything comes back in my head.
ohwell oh well.
byebye!!
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another lost soul (letting my instinct take control) | The Quarry | TravisxLaura
Characters: Laura Kearney, Travis Hackett, The Hackett family Summary: Max dies in the cellar. This changes everything.
Chapter 9/? | Chapter 8
July 15, 2022
All things considered, it’s not that bad.
Underneath the fluorescent lights of the shower room, the bruises along her ribs look… normal. No internal bleeding or squashed organs.
Probably, Laura thinks dubiously.
Looking over her shoulder hurts like hell, but she only finds a collage of purples and blues beneath a scattering of crimson scrapes and pricks, the worst covered up by bandages. It kind of looks like an ugly Jackson Pollock painting, but at least it’s non-lethal.
She pulls her shirt back down with a wince and makes the stilted walk back to her cot, trailing one hand along the wall to keep upright. By the time she’s made it halfway, sweat is beading along her brow and she feels uncomfortably close to passing out.
That is, until a steady arm loops under her own.
“You should’ve called,” Travis says, irritation lacing his words.
And do this whole dance and song again? she thinks dismally, but there's no point in starting a fight with the person who’s literally holding her up.
“Thanks,” she says flatly.
They make it back to the cell in quick time, and she slumps down with a heavy breath, taking no effort in masquerading just how much that short walk took out of her.
Travis lingers by the cot, folding his arms in stern judgment.
There’s a reason she didn’t ask for help. Looking at him now in the light of day makes last night all the more worse.
“I brought you your things,” he says after a moment of loaded silence. “They’re tucked under the bed.”
“Cool. I’ll make sure to dig around for them later.”
“I didn’t—” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I put them there so you wouldn’t trip when you got up.”
Laura grunts, but there’s no real malice behind it. He eyes her shrewdly.
“I brought you some ice to switch out for the heat pack, and I’ll charge that while you rest. Breakfast and coffee will be ready in a bit. I figured something with protein might feel good, so I’m defrosting some sausage and—”
He’s rambling.
“—is your pain level? Do you need something stronger? I guess now’s about the time to take another dose, huh?” He feels around his shirt pocket, and his mouth dips into a deeper frown.
“Shit. I’ll get you the pills before breakfast. Afterwards, I can help you to the showers if you want, maybe put a chair in there so you can sit—”
Travis pauses, and his eyes narrow with accusation. “Are you even listening to me?”
“...Yes?”
He purses his lips, looking both exasperated and uncomfortable all at once. “Okay, you know what? I’ll go get your meds. Don’t do anything stupid in the minute that I’m gone.”
He casually tosses something on her pillow, and her world goes still. It’s her phone. The bright but scratched, polka-dot casing stands out amongst the grays. Max’s mom got it for her two Christmases ago.
When Laura looks up, he’s already gone.
.
July 16th, 2022
“You missed the funeral.”
“Yeah.”
"Yeah?" Skylar Brinly's breath is heavy against the receiver. "That's it? Where have you been, Laura? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for weeks!”
A beat.
“Max. Max is. He's... You haven’t even called until now."
“I know.”
“You know?” Her laugh is a staccato, bitter note. “I know that my brother’s body was so mangled that they gave us his fucking shoes to ID him. I know that my mom, who took you in like a daughter, didn’t eat for a week. We had to admit her into hospice. She’s still there, by the way.”
A whine builds up in the back of her throat.
“Are you even listening to me? Say something, Laura! Say anything! …Laura?”
“Yuh- yeah.” Laura’s words break off into a silent cry, and she curls up in agony. Her muscles scream against the sudden stretch.
Skyler makes a discontented note on the other line, but Laura interrupts her with a gasp of air, like she’s finally breaking the surface of a long dive.
“I’m s-suh-sorry," her breath hitches, "I’m s-so sorry, Sky, I-I can’t explain— I wasn't there and I should've been there, I wanted to be there for you and Dave and Jules but I wasn't. I fucked up. God, I fucked up."
"Hey," Skylar says hesitantly, her own voice suspiciously wet sounding, but Laura blubbers over her.
"No. Fuck, Sky, listen. I'm a fucking curse. I shouldn't have made Max go with me in the first place. But I'm gonna m-make it better, alright? And then if yuh-you guys still want me then, I can come h-home—"
"Oh, Laura."
"—but I can't do that right now, 'Kay? I can't. I can't."
Skylar shushes her. Her contact photo is one of the both of them at high school graduation, and even through the cracks in her old phone screen, they look flushed and sweaty and happy.
It aches to look at now, after everything, but Laura latches onto it like a lifeline. Her shoulders rack around another sob.
"Are you…" Skylar asks hesitantly. "Is this about…?"
She's talking about That.
"No," Laura says as firm as her voice will allow. It isn’t much.
"It’s not your fault.” Skylar’s voice goes soft, familiar. It’s the tone she used when Laura used to have an episode. “There wasn’t anything you could’ve said or done to stop him. You know that. The cops were already there.”
“It’s not,” she starts, licking her lips. “It’s not about that.”
“Well, it kinda sounds like that. Because you’re saying you can’t come home after my brother died, and yet you weren’t even there when it happened. So it seems to me like you’re blaming yourself again for something completely out of your hands, again, and I don’t want to see you go down this path. Again.”
“I’m not, Sky. I won’t. I’m just not… ready.”
“...Okay.”
“I miss you.”
Skylar’s voice hitches, and it takes a moment before she speaks again. “I miss you. I miss Max, too…”
They go on like that for a while, even if most of the conversation is the two of them sobbing and stumbling through their grief. But, still. It feels good to talk to family again.
Skylar ends the call with a promise and a threat to talk again soon, and that if she isn’t home in the next few weeks, she’ll hunt Laura down herself.
Coming home would be good, if not quite feel right. It’s hard to imagine going back to the old room in the Brinly household, eating cereal with Dave at the old and dented kitchen table.
What really stops her above all else— Even beyond your revenge fantasy, girl?— is the thought of seeing Max's face again. His dorky, bright, beautiful smile is forever memorialized in the dozens of family photos littered around the house.
She hasn't dared open the gallery on her phone, and she zoomed past the home screen photo of them at the zoo as if it would leap out and grab her. Fuck, it took her a day after getting her phone back to call his sister, her best friend.
She's a coward. That's the truth.
And maybe she hasn't stumbled out of this cell because of it. This werewolf curse is too convenient of an excuse to go back into the "real world" of funerals, and college, and starting over. Maybe that makes her a bad person.
Honestly? This isn’t even the defining moment of making her a bad person. This is just another nail in the very real, heavy coffin that is her life. Just one more mark against her that she has to wipe clean before other people can see it, too.
A cough pulls her from her thoughts, and Laura sharply inhales.
Travis stands in the doorway of her cell like an awkward penguin. She’s still curled up in a fetal position like some unstable person.
Of fucking course. It’s almost like he waits for her to crack before appearing like some ghoulish phantom.
“What,” she says flatly.
“I—uh. Wanted to check on you.”
Laura furiously wipes at her face. “I’m fine.”
“On your injuries,” he elaborates, fidgeting with his belt. “Won’t take a minute.”
It’s going to take a fucking hour, she thinks ruefully. Her back hurts so bad that she had to crawl to the toilet in the middle of the night, and it’s not like the rest of her is doing any better after that emotional dump of a phone call.
She lets the silence stew, and Travis eyes her warily. Maybe he expects her to lash out. That, or break into tears, which is a mortifying enough thought that she musters up a glare that could wither stone.
“I already checked them this morning,” she replies. With her clogged nose and grated throat, it sounds little more than a whine. The weight of his stare makes her crack first, if only to get this moment over with sooner.
“You may approach, officer,” Laura says sarcastically.
Travis rolls his eyes, though something about him clicks back into normalcy. This back-and-forth routine is far more comfortable than whatever they teetered on so carefully just two nights ago.
Slowly, grimacing with pain, she manages to roll onto her front. It’s like her back is seizing up more by the hour, and she’s tempted to abort halfway.
“Just do it,” she mumbles into the pillow when he hesitates. “Don’t get handsy.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Travis says with a disgruntled note. But his hands are still careful when they roll her shirt up, and his touches are short and quick along her spine and sides.
“It’s looking better. At worst, I think you just bruised your ribs,” he says after a while, rolling her shirt down. “But it might not even be that bad, from the looks of it. Your breathing’s still clear?”
“Yup.”
He hums in acknowledgement. One finger lightly traces over the skin of one of the scabbed-over cuts, and his touch leaves a trail of nerves in its wake.
“There’s nothing we can really do, ‘cept continue to wait,” Travis says quietly. He places another fresh pack of ice on her back, and stands with a grunt.
As abrupt as he first appeared, he turns to leave. She stops him. “What did you tell them?”
“Who?” It’s obvious who she’s talking about. He’s stalling.
There’s a lingering stretch of quiet, like the balm after a long storm. His mouth dips like a bobber in the waves.
“You and Max were traveling to the motel. He forgot something back home. Rather than make you drive with, he dropped you off to reserve a room and left on his own, and took a corner too fast. These back-country roads aren’t easy for out-of-towners. It was… quick.”
“It was,” she says, worrying her lip absent-mindedly. He clears his throat, suddenly averting his eyes to the wall.
“Travis.” Laura waits for him to look at her before continuing. “Thank you.”
His lips part softly in surprise. Thank you for doing what you could to save my life, is what she was going to say, but the sudden openness to his face, the vulnerability, stops her short. It’s like the years have melted off of him.
It’s too much, is what it is. This side of Travis feels weird to know. Maybe ‘weird’ is too strong of a word, but all she knows is that it makes her insides twist uncomfortably and that, in itself, is weird.
“And that’s my kindness quota for the day,” she blurts. “So, if you don’t mind…?”
His brow crinkles in confusion, then irritation when she makes grabby hands.
“Don’t get addicted,” he says gruffly, slapping two painkillers into her palm. She accepts them greedily.
And since she’s in a better mood than usual, Laura doesn’t even tease him for the way his ears have gone pink.
July 18th 2022
It’s a little past midnight, and Laura is woken up by the sound of someone else in the building.
“...the middle of the night?”
It’s hard to say if it’s a man or a woman, but Travis’ hushed words leading to the office carry over from the main room like an agitated bee hive.
It’s a while before their voices come back around. They must be heading back towards the entrance.
“...none of your business…”
“Couldn’t you, y’know, handle it?”
It’s definitely a man. It would be weird for Kaylee to come by this late, she supposes, yet the disappointment comes all the same.
“...you even hear yourself? ... a police officer!” Travis has never quite sounded like this before. He’s angry, obviously, but there’s a different note to it that she can’t place a finger on.
Laura strains to hear more, but their voices continue to fade.
“ ...won’t...keep your mouth shut.”
They’re gone.
She must drift back to sleep while listening for anything else, because the next thing she knows, a strike of a car engine overhead jolts her back to awareness. The headlights cast fingers of light across the stone, reaching past the bars on her little window, and settle into the lines of the stone wall and Travis’ face.
Her throat closes up. There’s Travis, leaning against the wall, a bottle of something dark in hand. The light flits away as the car moves on, the crunch of pavement sounding faintly. All that’s left to illuminate them both is the pale touch of moonlight.
Her mind instantly runs through every question, her possible escape routes, but… he’s just sitting there. He isn’t in her cell, and he doesn’t even seem to notice that she’s awake.
He probably couldn’t even walk a straight line. The bottle looks more than half empty.
Travis releases a heavy sigh into the night, and he slumps further down the wall. Seeing him this way feels… wrong. Like she’s witnessing something forbidden.
It’s not my fault he camped out here, she thinks defensively.
“Didn’t mean for this to ‘appen.” His slurred voice catches her off guard. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
She lies painstakingly still.
“Y’shouldn’t have thanked me,” he goes on to say. “M’not worth that.”
The way he appears before her is typically so self-assured. He stalks around here with an air of well-worn exasperation, always ready to unleash his own brand of confidence through dry wit and blunt honesty.
This? This sad man stretched out on concrete and moonlight, drinking straight from the bottle? She doesn’t recognize him.
Yes, you do, she thinks ruefully. What other kind of man goes to the trouble of covering up his family’s mess?
He huffs a bitter laugh, and sloshes the bottle’s contents around before setting it down with a look of disgust.
“I’m fucking pathetic, is what I am,” he comments wryly, gazing up at the window. It’s eerily close to her train of thought, and for a second, she’s worried she spoke aloud.. A lopsided grin twists his face in a mockery of amusement, and the smile dies after a few breaths.
He swallows heavily, throat bobbing with the movement, and slowly rises to his feet. It takes a few unsteady steps before he remembers the bottle, and it takes even longer for him to lean down and swipe it.
“Sh-iiiit,” he mumbles, stretching out the curse. “Fuck me. Fuck.”
Laura holds her breath as his shuffled gait disappears down the hall.
Later, much later, she’ll wonder if he understood the gravity of what he was apologizing for.
July 20th, 2022
“I’m ready,” she announces.
Travis looks up from the coffee pot in surprise.
“Ready?” he repeats drily. A packet of oatmeal is in hand, and a bowl is already out for her. It looks like she came by just in time.
“I was able to walk all the way here without help, so yeah, I’m ready.” She puts a hand on her hip, relishing in the soft, familiar material of her leggings. The matching cropped jacket and baseball cap make her feel almost normal, as if this were a casual summer trip and not a manhunt.
His calculating gaze sweeps over her, and if it were coming from any other man, she’d feel like a piece of meat. Instead, she just feels irritated.
“We agreed. It’s been three days.”
The last couple of days has been a slow crawl of pain meds, hot and cold packs, and one awkward session of bandage changing that Laura immediately vetoed from ever happening again.
It’s been painful in nearly every faucet, and Kaylee still hasn’t stopped by.
Travis himself offered up the compromise, “if only so you could please shut up for five goddamn minutes,” so, here she is.
Though, given what she happened to witness a few nights ago, some productive time away will do him some good, too. He can blame it on her impatience as much as he wants, but she’s seen beyond the mask.
Travis needs a distraction, and she needs a partner who isn’t five steps away from getting drunk and watching pretty girls sleep. Yikes.
Her boot taps impatiently against the side of her bag. It’s a little shoulder pouch she packed to ferry around bandaids and snacks at camp, and it doubles as a perfect overnight bag.
He eyes her unimpressed. “We agreed to reassess in three days.”
“And the full moon is in just a few days!”
“That’s right,” he says matter-of-factly. “Which means I have prepping that I need to do, and you still have to take it easy. I’m not dragging your ass up another ravine.”
“C’mon,” she says flippantly. “Don’t act like you haven’t already taken the day off.”
He makes a sort of indignant sound, but he doesn’t deny it. “The day, I could maybe swing. But what’s with the bag?”
“In case I need it,” she says vaguely. “It’s a bit of a drive, right?”
His eyes dart up towards the ceiling. Thinking. Perhaps… waiting, is a better word.
She can see the moment his resolve cracks. Wordlessly, he puts the bowl back in the cupboard and walks past her, scooping up her bag in one smooth motion.
They take no detours. His broad stride takes them to the main entrance, and when he locks up behind them, it feels like the closing of a chapter.
Laura pauses to take it in. The sheriff station stands like a monument to another time; the chips on the double doors reveal layers of old paint, years of cosmetic cover-ups stacking up into a sheet of grime. Last night’s soft summer rain still lingers in the air, and her old hiking boots scuff lightly against the pavement.
Here, in the pale light of morning, something’s changed.
“I thought you said you were ready?” he asks next to the cruiser. A light note of sarcasm dances along his tone.
“I’m surprised we’re not taking a personal car,” Laura says. Travis shoots her a look, which she takes as an invitation to continue. “I just figured… the ‘North Hill County Sheriff’ cruiser might attract a lot of stares.”
“I don’t have a personal vehicle.”
She frowns thoughtfully. “Is that a… cop thing?”
Travis’ mouth twitches. “I suppose… you could say it’s a ‘cop thing.’ I just never used mine, so I lent it to a family member who needed it.”
Laura hums in consideration and gets in, shooting a quick glance to the backseat. And— yup. She smirks; his duffle bag is already there. He doesn’t look at her, but he does switch on the radio almost immediately.
“Get comfortable,” he says. “It’s a three hour drive to Colton.”
.
.
Def Leppard thrums alive over the speakers, and Travis turns the volume up. So much for conversation, she thinks wryly.
It’s been a while since Laura’s gone on a long drive. Being with Max was all about noise; the bright notes of the latest pop song, his constant need to fidget, his driving urge to make her laugh.
Travis is the exact opposite. This man is made up of thick, solid lines drawn in the sand. The center console is paramount to the Iron Curtain. But after an hour of thick tension, she has to break it.
“Have you heard from Kaylee at all?”
He looks at her out of the corner of his eye. “No.”
“Really? Nothing?”
“Surprisingly, she has nothing to say,” he replies slowly.
“Have you tried to reach out?”
He snaps his head over with a scowl. “Out with it.“
“Nothing, geez. I’m just asking, I want to know that she’s okay. It’s weird that she hasn’t come by, so…”
Travis sighs through his nose, glancing off to the side. His fingers flex on the steering wheel. When he looks back to the road, his face is set in stone.
“Look. I appreciate your cooperation with me, despite how all this… started out. But I don’t think it would serve either of us if this agreement went any past that.”
“...Um, what?”
She watches as irritation passes through his face, but he locks it down, face resetting back to that same impenetrable stone.
“Let’s not mix business with pleasure,” he says.
Laura blanches. “Pleasure?”
Travis is already shaking his head before she finishes speaking, and this time, annoyance is plastered all over him.
“Okay, no. God. You know what I mean.” He takes a deep breath. “Look, I appreciate you caring about my niece. I really do. But I don’t want things to get more… complicated than they already are.”
“I think this is as complicated as things can get, Travis,” she deadpans, but he moves past it.
“Once this is over, you can move on, live your life. Hell, you can even go and turn me in for false imprisonment,” he says wryly, then fixes her with a serious look. “But I ask you this— leave my family out of it. Leave Kaylee out of it. I know that might be asking a lot of you, but. Please. I don’t need another thing to get tangled up with.”
Another thing.
His words twist something ugly in her chest. Laura Brandt. Another thing.
“Sure,” she says neutrally, looking at the passing scenery.
She doesn’t feel much in the mood for conversation after that.
.
.
Eventually, the highway unrolls into the meandering sprawl of country roads. There, nestled within thick evergreens and heralded by an American flag, is an old sign reading, “WELCOME TO COLTON.”
Aside from an odd cow statue that greets them with a plastered hoof full of cheese, there’s nothing much to the town.
It’s small; maybe a bit larger than North Kill, but only just. Travis takes them down the quiet main street for several blocks before turning down a side road bracketed with pines, houses scattered in-between.
They reach a backroad that feels like it was intentionally set aside, and Travis pulls over to the side. Across the street is the town library and a gas station a bit further down. It takes a moment for Laura to actually notice the purpose of their road trip.
The cemetery is, frankly, underwhelming.
It’s split into two levels, which may be a bit odd, with the typical tombstone and flat marker laid out in rows. The dirt lot next door looks big enough for a neighborhood to fit, but it’s hard to imagine a literal circus being held in a place like this.
It’s not like she’s been to a lot of cemeteries before; only once, and that was to visit her mom’s grave. But this one doesn’t exactly scream, ‘Hey, witches and werewolves! Come check this out!’
Though there’s obviously been an attempt at upkeep, the bushes lining the fence are heat-fried, and their dried corpses look less than friendly beneath the wrought iron words, COLTON CEMETERY: HERE LIE OUR FALLEN FRIENDS.
They step out of the cruiser in silence, and come to a pause outside of the rusted gate.
“Any idea on what we should be looking for?” she asks, peering down the lanes.
"The Vorez name, I’d assume.” Travis’ hand lingers near his gun. “Anything else that seems… otherworldly.”
“Right.” She crosses the threshold, and despite not expecting it, she’s still vaguely surprised that nothing… happens. No goosebumps, no chills down her spine. Just another Sunday morning at the graveyard.
“I’ll start on this half,” she says, gesturing to the right half that’s down a few steps.
“You really want to split up?” he asks with a raised brow.
Absolutely. “I don’t see any cliffs nearby,” she says drily. Her face splits into a shit-eating grin that doesn’t quite feel natural. “What, you scared?”
His flat stare speaks volumes. Travis takes the other half of the cemetery without a word. And something in her uncoils.
After being stuck in a car with him after that stellar conversation, leaving his orbit is like a breath of fresh air. Literally. It’s like she can actually breathe again without snapping whatever tenuous peace they’re see-sawing off of.
She rolls her shoulders with a wince, and descends the concrete steps into the next level. At first glance, the graves aren’t anything unique. She mentally rattles off each name while passing through.
Edna Graceson, 1886-1929
Steven Callick, 1935-1972
Geoffrey Beaumont, 1955-2003
The late morning sun starts to heat up, and she unzips her jacket. At least her baseball cap keeps the sun out of her eyes.
God, she’s missed wearing a hat. Maybe it’s stupid, but it’s been so long since she hasn’t had one at hand. Having the choice to wear something? Priceless.
The sound of grass whispering under foot rasps a ways above, and Travis’ stalking figure passes by in the upper rows. The sharp, dark lines of his body fit in with the decor.
“See anything?” he calls.
“No,” she replies. “Just… a lot of dead people.”
He studies her face. “Once I finish up here, I’ll join you down below.”
“Alright,” she starts to say, but he’s already disappearing behind the ledge. “O-kay,” she mutters. Pretty dramatic for an old cop.
The longer she looks, a trend makes itself apparent: the cemetery is very, very old. There’s more than a few markers from the 1800’s, and several of the darker, weather-beaten stones read birth years from even earlier.
One group of tombstones catches her eye. There’s no mementos in this section— flowers, photos, the like. Etched in weather-beaten stone, she reads years from the 1700’s. These probably belong to the earliest settlers in Colton.
Laura crouches down, squinting at the barely-legible carvings.
ÉLÉ NOR M RIE VALET
Below the faded name reads, ‘no longer shall you face.’ That doesn’t make sense. Face what?
Travis’ footsteps creep up behind her while she’s still trying to figure it out, and she shifts to the side to give him room.
“Check this—” she starts, but the words lodge themselves in her throat.
Because this isn’t Travis.
She isn’t sure what it is.
The mass of contorted limbs and flesh is so unlike anything she’s ever seen, that it takes a moment for her brain to recalibrate. It looks human. Or, at least it was.
The angles are all wrong, so, so wrong. Shoulders and elbows and hips and knees have been dislocated and forced in unnatural bends. Its sallow flesh is tinged and hanging with rot, sticky with dusty scraps of fabric that have long since passed the point of recognition.
But the middle— that’s where her eyes stop. Because lodged in whatever is meant to be its midsection is a large metal pole. There’s no blood. Just… dark folds of skin, swallowing it whole.
The moment hangs by a thread. Laura slowly rises from her crouch, white noise humming between her ears.
She can’t say what holds her in place as it jerkily reorients its limbs; a leg flips to the other side, the spine practically snaps in half. In the center of it all, blooming like a flower from hell itself, is Eliza Vorez’s face twisted around a gaping maw.
She takes a step back, and the thing twitches forward.
Holy shit.
Everything clicks back into place. Adrenaline hits her bloodstream like a bullet, and Laura takes off in a run. The steady pop of joints and bones and the metallic clang of the pole bouncing along the ground confirms the horrible truth.
It’s hunting her.
“Travis!”
She doesn’t have a gun. Why doesn’t she have a fucking gun?
Laura hops over the tombstone on jegs made of jelly, pumping her arms in time with the thump, thump, thump of her heartbeat. The bruises along her back and thighs, the dozens of cuts splitting open with the movement, none of it registers as she sprints amongst the graves.
Later, she won’t be able to describe what compels her to do it. But one moment, there’s a strange high whistle in the air, and Laura pivots sharply to the left out of instinct.
A half a second later, something unyielding crashes almost directly into her leg. The impact knocks her over with a cry.
Next to her, the pole is lodged into the ground, caked with rust and some other brown substance. If she hadn’t moved, if she’d just been one millisecond too late—
Eliza’s mangled body skewers itself on the pole once again, slamming into the ground with a solid thud. Laura doesn’t waste any more time.
Her fingers dig into the manicured grass for purchase, and she scrambles up to her feet in a staggered run. Pain doesn’t even register at this point.
The stairs are so close. Where the fuck is he?
She desperately leaps over another tombstone, and the sharp ring of metal against stone follows quickly after.
She takes the stairs at a breakneck pace and almost loses her footing on the last step, if it weren’t for someone grabbing her arm. Laura chokes on her gasp, and in her panic, she tries to shove away and almost tumbles down.
“Hey! Hey, it’s me!” Travis has her locked in place. “What the hell’s going on?!”
The tint of fear in his voice is enough of a drive to push him back, moving them both away from the ledge.
“There’s a- it’s chasing—!” she garbles out.
Travis pulls her behind him without another word. His gun is already drawn, and he scans the area with the end of his barrel. Laura spins around so they’re back-to-back, and her eyes desperately scan the rows upon rows of graves behind them.
“Do you see it?!” she asks breathlessly.
In the distance, the gas station sign across the street flickers.
“No.”
“It was- was some kind of monster,” she says, voice embarrassingly cracking. “It had Eliza’s face.”
His back goes tense, and the muscles coil against her spine. It’s silent, save for their heavy breathing.
Travis starts to rotate, and she follows his lead slowly, heel by heel. They’re too out in the open, but is it truly better to run at this point? Could it outrun the car?
A dry rustling sound breaks the silence, and he sharply pivots in front of her. She grabs the back of his shirt out of instinct, and immediately feels stupid. It’s just a fucking bird in a bush.
She swings back around, desperately looking back for something, anything, that crawling mess that will forever live on in her nightmares, but… there’s nothing. Belatedly, Laura steps back.
She looks up to find that he’s already been watching her.
“I’m not crazy.”
“I know,” he says, and drops his chin meaningfully. “If you’re seeing things, then that has to mean we’re getting close. I’d tell you to go back to the car—”
“No way in hell.”
“—and that’s what I thought.” His eyes have a knowing glint.
He searches her face, looking for some wordless confirmation. Finally, Travis lowers his gun, but he doesn’t holster it. “Let’s go back to where you first saw this thing.”
The rational side of her brain is screaming to leave and never come back. But it’s not so rational, is it? They’re getting closer. She can feel it.
Fuck, she could be Helen Keller and still realize something’s up. It would be idiotic to turn back now.
Don’t bitch out, Kearney, she thinks furiously. That’s not what we do.
“Okay,” she acqueices, and Travis’ face glimmers in satisfaction.
Shoulders squared and eyes alert, they retrace her steps. The soft summer light felt warm before, but now it feels harsh and stark against the rich greens and sun-bleached browns.
Neither of them can deny it, now. They’re not alone.
The old graves haven’t changed or moved an inch from where she found them. Nothing monstrous or supernatural looks to have taken place. Still, she can’t help but lower her voice.
“This is the one,” she says quietly. “Éléanor Valet.”
Travis moves in, crouching down to inspect the markings. After barely a moment’s worth, he inhales sharply.
“Does this look familiar to you?”
Brow crinkled, she leans down beside him. “Um… no?”
“No longer shall you face your blight,” he reads breathlessly. He fixes her with a lopsided grin that borders on manic. “It’s part of the poem. Look,” he caresses the stone, “there’s more here, it’s just faded.”
She looks again, and holy shit. “Or fear the dread of the full moon’s light,” Laura reads aloud. He’s right.
Travis sits very still.
“I found my copy of the poem in the wreckage thinking that those motherfuckers wrote a ‘101 Guide on Werewolves’ for tourists,” he says softly, voice weirdly detached. “Turns out, Eliza and Silas were on the scavenger hunt of a lifetime.”
He dips his head. The pressed shirt on his back begins to ripple with how violent he begins to shake.
For a moment, she thinks he’s crying.
But then he throws his head back in a silent laugh, little cracks of air puffing out of his lungs. It builds into a desperate chuckle that leaves him bent over his knees.
This side of him is unlike anything she’s seen before. The pathetic man drinking alone in front of her cell was a different creature entirely. This? This is unhinged.
He stands abruptly.
"Family is everything,” Travis spats in a mocking tone, turning his face of unbridled fury on her. Laura involuntarily takes a step back. “That’s why they came to my fucking town. She was probably looking for a fucking cure."
She watches as he puts himself back together piece by piece, chest heaving around some unimaginable pressure. His eyes remain wild, but where there was a burning devastation radiating from his bones before, a wasteland has replaced it. The fortress has been rebuilt.
It’s unnerving to watch.
Laura is fighting to say something, do something, when Travis strides past her without a second glance.
“Hey!” she calls. “Where are you going? What about the rest of the graves?!”
No response. The petty part of her wants to stick around and force him to either leave her or come back, but then she’d have to be alone. Gritting her teeth, she strides after him, up the stairs, past the gate.
Unexpectedly, he stalks right past the cruiser and heads for the library down the road. There’s a new intensity to his gait, and an added edge to his jaw that wasn’t there before.
Travis crashes through the front doors. The middle-aged woman at the help desk regards them as if she’d been staring into the void, and the void spat them up.
“Um,” she stutters.
“I need access to your computers,” he commands.
The woman’s eyes dart over to Laura for help, but then she gives her a onceover and her face turns even more pale. Travis follows her gaze.
“It’s for police business,” he offers up.
The woman’s eyes go wide as if Travis lightly mentioned there being a homicide taking place in the science fiction section. She nods desperately. “Yes, absolutely! Let me get you in with a guest account.”
She scurries over to one of the computers, and the only other one occupied within the same vicinity is a pimply teenager who takes one look at them and awkwardly flees.
The moment they’re logged in, the woman leaves and Travis settles into the chair like it’s his personal throne. Laura remains standing.
“What the fuck are we doing here?” she hisses. “Let’s keep looking.”
“I thought you said you do research,” he says airily.
She blinks. Laura takes the chair beside him, scooting close enough to slide the keyboard and mouse over. A quick search of ‘Éléanor Marie Valet’ and ‘Colton, New York’ yields several ancestry websites, but the one she clicks on first is a grave index.
It’s a photo of the same plot, and the inscription is as disappointedly faded as the one in person. However, the sidebar has a bit more information.
Born June 18th, 1765 Gévaudan, France
Died November 10th, 1796 Colton, New York
“She was French?” she repeats. Something pings in the back of her brain. “That town sounds… familiar.”
She tries another search, typing “Valet” and “Gévaudan,” adding in “Werewolf” as an afterthought.
It’s as easy as that. Hundreds of thousands of search results come up, and Travis leans in.
“The Beast of Gévaudan is one of the most famous werewolf stories in modern history… Of course. This Valet family knew enough to leave their knowledge behind in a way that wouldn't be destroyed by time.”
Wondrously, his face splits into a wide, unadulterated grin. “This is good, Laura.”
She can’t help but smile back. It’s contagious, and his hope seeps into her own chest. She clicks on a page and scrolls, scanning till she finds it.
“‘The Beast of Gévaudan made its first recorded attack in 1764,’” she reads aloud. “‘A young woman, Marie Jeanne Valet, was tending her cattle when she claimed a wolf-like beast came upon her. She managed to keep it at bay, though terror striked the region as more and more victims were reported.’”
“‘Lone men, women, and children were repeatedly attacked while tending to their livestock… Researchers surmise that upwards of five hundred deaths were attributed to this beast over the three-year span of attacks.’”
Laura exchanges a wordless look with Travis. That’s a lot of death over a very short span of time. And at some point, Marie and her kin must have taken it upon themselves to gain some tricks up their sleeve.
It’s not that hard to believe. Hell, it took one encounter for her to be sitting here next to the cop that kidnapped her, searching up werewolf lore on a library computer. But five hundred deaths? All the work of one werewolf, or more?
Speaking of… Laura types in a few more searches with the added information, pulling up an old genealogy site.
“Shit,” she mutters. This Valet line died out by the mid-1850’s.
“What about cousins?” Travis suggests, and there’s still a hopeful tint to his words. He doesn’t take his eyes off the screen. To the average eye, he looks calm and in control, but she’s been around him enough to recognize his tells. Right now, a frenetic energy practically vibrates off of him.
“Maybe they don't hold the surname, but there’s a chance that if this family did know something, they could’ve passed it along,” he adds.
“True, but the American immigrants didn’t exactly thrive over here,” she says grimly. "What do you think brought them over?"
Travis shrugs, the excitement loosening him up a bit. "From what I can recall, France had quite the witch hunt for werewolves. I think… thirty thousand were executed in the mid-17th century out of suspicion.”
Given the attacks almost a hundred years later, the tables obviously turned at some point along the way.
“Maybe that’s where the Vorez family originates from?” she ventures. “If these guys were… werewolf hunters, then there were probably families fleeing from persecution.”
It’s a dismal thought, hunting down fellow immigrants suspected of being a werewolf.
Isn’t that what you’re doing? a little voice needles back.
This is different, she thinks. Silas is dangerous.
So are you. So is he.
Travis’ finger lightly taps the desk. "There's a good chance this poem might not be over. Wherever their next stop would’ve been after North Kill… we need to check there first. Go back to the graves website.”
She pulls it back up, and he leans over to type in the most recent death. Their shoulders brush.
Théo Louis Valet, 1810-1853.
Lincoln, Maine
Travis scrutinizes the computer with a heavy brow as if he could scare the words into changing. The sudden mood shift makes no sense.
Laura frowns. “What? Travis, we have a lead.”
He’s silent for a long moment, still glued to the screen. Finally, he swivels towards her with a grave expression. He steeples his hands like a man about to make a deal with the devil.
“It’s in Maine,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Yeah. It’s close.”
“You’re kidding,” he says flatly.
The ease in which he gives up is infuriating and disappointing all at once, and she grits her teeth, turning back to the computer.
“Where’s Lincoln?” she mutters aloud, opening a new tab and typing it in. “Holy shit, it’s eight hours from here? We could start driving today.”
“We can’t. Not today.”
If they weren’t in a library, she’d probably slap him. “You’re ridiculous,” she hisses. “I thought you wanted to end this?”
There’s no other way to describe it. Travis unravels.
“Of course I want to end this. I want my fucking life back,” he growls. “I want a full night’s rest. I want my niece to go off to college and get out of my shithole of a town. But I can’t just, just be gone for another day like this.”
“How the fuck—” she cuts herself off after an older gentelman in the VHS section gives her a dirty loo, and leans in impatiently. “Why are you always making things so damn complicated?”
“Because there’s lives on the line!” he outright snarls. More people are starting to give them looks, and Travis notices, buckling it back down with visible reluctance. “C’mon.”
She has no real desire to go anywhere with him like this, but she does it all the same. They leave with a wide berth around them, the scant library visitors parting around them like waves.
Only when they’re back outside does Travis rub his face, looking down on her with a bleary set of eyes.
“I can’t just— I-it’s not. Fuck,” he says with a deep breath. “You keep forgetting that you’re not supposed to be here. Right? You’re not supposed to still be alive. My family would kill you in a heartbeat if they knew about you, all in the name of keeping themselves safe.”
“You can’t… let that be what stops you,” she says awkwardly. Yeah, she’d prefer not to die, but he can’t seriously be saying that they’re not going to go any further just because of what might happen to her?
“You’re not stopping me from doing anything,” he says increduously, as if the very notion is stupid. If they weren’t in the middle of an argument right now, her face would probably flush like a tomato.
As it is, she scowls. “Well, that’s what I’m hearing. You’re worried your ‘little ma’ is going to put a bullet between my eyes, isn’t that right?”
He shuts his eyes as if the very effort of looking at her is beneath him.
“You’re being awfully reckless with your life, Miss Kearney. I don’t think you really get just how important it is that I don’t, ah, rock the boat. Y’see,” he says with emphasis, leaning in like she’s a lost kid on the playground, “There’s expectations of me that I gotta meet, or it’s going to tip them off, and that’s the end of this little venture we have going on. Did you get all of that?”
“So, we just wait for the grave to grow legs and walk?”
He scoffs in disbelief, his little effort at intimidating her failed. He moves to get into the cruiser, and she can’t just, just give up like that.
Laura catches his wrist and pulls him back. “No, look. I’m sorry,” she says earnestly. “I’m just saying… sooner or later, you’re going to have to go. That, or continue to wait for things to line up for you, but I don’t think either of our luck is that good.”
His eyes stray towards her hand, and she belatedly releases him.
“I don’t like this,” he says finally. “These risks.”
“I know,” she replies delicately.
He wets his lips. “No detours.”
“None.
“And no more splitting up,” he adds, softer this time. The change in tone takes her aback. She follows his gaze; he’s looking at the blades of grass still sticking to her legs.
When she doesn’t respond, he cocks a brow meaningfully.
“Done,” Laura agrees readily.
Travis nods, giving her another onceover before getting in the car. “Wipe your shoes before you step in!” he calls before slamming the door shut, and she rolls her eyes. He doesn’t even blink when she plops down, mud and grass and all.
He pulls onto the quiet road, and they leave the town cemetery behind without another word.
They don’t need to talk. Enough has already been said.
#fuck this was long#another lost soul#laura kearney#the quarry#the quarry fanfic#travis hackett#the quarry fanfiction#laura kearneyxtravis hackett#hackearny#slow burn#enemies to lovers#so many tropes in here#you might want to read on ao3 at this point#but I post here for people like you#I love you
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Life update
Aka life sucks and I hate it
Tw for dark/suicidal thoughts (don't worry I haven't and will not do anything)
I'm trying so fucking hard to try and do better for myself. I've dedicated myself to a writing project, and one that I love, and I'm not getting anything for it. I don't know what to do for it. I get nothing. I get no likes. No reblogs. No followers. I actually lost one...out of SIX! Five followers on my writing blog and that's it.
I'm gonna try and keep things as organized here as I can because I am really damn emotional right now. I have had some really dark thoughts this morning and I don't know what to do.
For folks who don't know, I work at build a bear as my primary job. And I love it. I absolutely love it. It's been a big part of helping heal from some pretty bad stuff. The problem is I don't get a lot of hours. I get paid more than what I did when I was working fast food, but I don't work as much. I'm pretty sure you can see how this is a problem.
This is part of the reason why I started a patreon. I eventually do want to make writing content my full time job. I know it's not easy. And maybe I'm being a little hasty and expecting too much too fast, but I am in a pretty serious financial bind. I have a phone bill due, I have to put money on my bus pass so that I can continue to go to work. I also have a bearded dragon who I still need to get food and supplies for (no matter what he comes first. Mostly food. Little man eats better than I do). All the while I am struggling to feed myself and struggling to help my mom and my sister with bills. My mom's boyfriend is an abusive prick who barely does anything for her. He brings junk food to the table and that's about it.
I earn so little now that I practically can't even afford to put money away. I put any spare change I have away in a lock box so I can turn it in at the end of the month. But it's all getting to be too much.
And today it's just really hitting really hard. I can't get a second job because I can't handle two jobs that I can't control at the same time. I can write whenever I want so thats why I can handle juggling my job and this.
I thought when I moved my life up here to the north that I would get far more support. And it would seem so to anyone on the outside looking in. But since I announced my patreon launch, no one has supported me. No one has asked me how my writing is going. No one has asked me anything and barely given me any encouragement. I feel like no one actually cares. I feel like no one gives a damn except to make themselves look/feel good. And that sucks beyond words. It makes me feel used if I'm being honest.
My situation has actually gotten so bad that I seriously considered this morning trying to find a way to end it all. My parents down south hate me. My older sister doesn't speak to me even to check on me. And I thought that it was okay, that I didn't need them. I have my biomom and my sister up here and we help each other but it's just...not enough. I just feel very dark about everything right now. I'm not gonna do anything crazy, I don't have a means to and right now I'm just sad and feeling worthless and like I'm putting all this work in for nothing.
Essentially I'm working on two books at the same time. In addition to In the Heart of Winter, which I post here, I'm also posting lore on my patreon for my story to sort of help fill in the blanks for things I might not get around to in the story. And it's a lot of work. In addition, I also make the collages at the beginning of each new chapter, and I post those to my Instagram. Basically the only things I post there. I just...I feel like I'm doing all of this for nothing. And a part of me is wondering why the hell I'm even bothering.
And I tell that part of myself that I'm doing it because I want to. Because this is my dream. And dreams aren't easy. They're hard work and dedication. Even though I feel like my world is crashing down around me, I can't give up. I won't. It's not easy, but I've never needed easy. All I need right now is possible and that's what I'm going for.
If you can, if you read this far thanks, but if you can, please, please donate to my patreon, it's in my pinned post, and please follow my Instagram. Should also be linked or at least it's got the same name as my blog here. When/if I make a YouTube channel, I intend to link that too. I feel pathetic for this but I really feel like I don't have a choice.
Thank you
#life update#depressed#sad#feeling down#tw suicidal thoughts#needing support#needing help#i dont know how else to do this
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Pick a card reading
How people will see you and your spouse as a couple
Disclaimer : this is a general reading guys so take what resonates with you and it's to be taken not seriously hope you will enjoy it .
Pile 1.
Pile 2
Pile 3
Pile 1
Hii dear hope so everything is going well. My I am getting so many messages for your pile I am sensing that many of you will meet them in your mid or early twenties and your close one will see it as a casual relationship and they will be surprised to see how far you both have came together I am also seeing some people will be jealous of you as your partner is quite the catch honestly I am believing that you guys are gonna meet in collage. Either of you will be quite known I am seeing financial stability here. People will see the feminine one cold and your person has a really charming and warm persona. Their side close one will love you caz you are really mature you will help to ground your spouse.anyone of you like studying researching it's like the drama in which one is this goofy happy go lucky and the other one is BRF type bit mature and caring. Sometimes people even say to you that you don't deserve your partner and fuck those people they don't know what made you like that. People love your smile maybe. There will a contrast in your appearance that's why it would be hard for people to not notice you both. I am really getting this mature energy from the feminine person in this connection. In short people are gonna give mixed reactions to both of you some will fill you are not deserving of them. Some will fill you both are match made in heaven.
Songs for pile 1: stay with me, Teri dastan, pavitra rishta.
Please do give feedback it will really encourage me to do better.
Pile 2
Hii pile 2. I am seeing that your spouse will propose you in a crowded area in filmy style they are really romantic soul and people around them see that. You can be workaholic type or when you will be meeting them you will be going through some kind of loss. As a couple people will see you both as adventurous type even if you don't like it they will drag you with them. You guys will be seen as a really cute and lovely couple holding hands going on long drive after a long day.both will be really balanced like not forgetting your own individuality.Both will do charity and humanitiarian work there is a strong emphasis on children so maybe you will work with them. In people eyes your life could be perfect.you both will travel alot I am not sensing any type of negativity in here. You guys could have small arguments not much to worry about they will come apologizing to you. Maybe due to their work you would live in a long distance relationship.
Song for pile 2: tu aake dekhle, falling for you, Prada.
Pile 3
Hii love hope so everybody is feeling better today than yesterday . I am literally getting knight in shining armor for you. Some of your person can be in military service so that's why they get so much of respect. You guys are very private about your life so people will rearly know anything inside about your life. You guys will be seen as a mysterious couple like I am seeing the feminine here being a rebellious soul here and free spirited. You guys see be doing lots of shopping OK. They will be a very patient person you got hands on. They might have not been in healthy relationship so when seeing you both together their people will feel happy lemme already tell you their side family are hella protective of them. You should make a good image in their extended family bar. I know you don't care much about people opinion but try to. Their are lots of hidden snakes in your side who are gonna feel every envious of you both.your bond will be so beautiful not like those fairy tales one but realistic ones like cute gestures you both will do for each others picking flowers and giving each other cooking together your favorite meals. Buying outfits. Both of you are actions people and people will see it at first. I am sensing a absent childhood it could be any of you so take it as you want. They would have royal background like in my place the rajputna people are said to have that roots you could marry one. They could feel insecure about their appearance and will feel that they got you by what grace please give them love. I am seeing those btichy aunties gossiping about you so maybe your marriage could be seen as unconventional .Its so Me love you all. You guys will be very giving towards the needy one. allover it's like the fairy tale couple. I am sensing your partner will come from a different culture.
Songs for pile 3 : banna re , takda hi Jawan, bepannah, wahran, solo, lazy lad(wow)
Wish me luck for my exams
Har Har Mahadev
#witch community#astrology#astrology observations#astro notes#baby witch#moon child#manifestingreality#i love this#pac#pac list#pick a pile#pickup#pick a card#pick and choose#tarot#tarot readings#tarot deck#tarot cards#tarot reading#free tarot#tarotdaily#tarottribe
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Olsen's Journal: Entry 01 - The Legion
"The Legion kids, they're pretty alright. Frank and Susie are...something. Julie and Joey are the smarter half. They all know my actual name, not like anybody could use it from now on, anyways. I'll be adding stuff as I learn more of them, might be out of order.
Frank never grew out of his rebellious teenager phase . Distrusting, disobedient, angry...and pretty edgy and angsty to say the least. Has a soft spot for the rest of the gang, especially Julie. She's playing him like a fiddle. He distrusts Susie, but still cares about her. Trusts Joey, a lot, maybe a childhood friend? If needed to separate group, must attack him first, after all they see him as the leader, despite being one of the dumbest killers in the realm.
Susie, I pity her. She's insecure, shy, an anxious wreck. I'm pretty sure she's into me too...which I find hilarious. She's the youngest one, so says Frank. The amount of times she'd just confide me with personal matters is...embarrassing, she trusts too easily. She's the weakest link. Trusts everyone...but is also afraid of everyone. She's afraid of being abandoned by her friends. Hah. She was a shy, anxious outcast in her high school, picked up by Julie. She was so desperate to make friends, she stole from a man, and stabbed him three times just to impress Julie's little boyfriend. She looks up to them, especially Joey.
Joey, he's interesting. He's very closed off, doesn't give much info... but I can deduce some stuff from what other have given me. He's probably the oldest. He trusts every member very dearly, but can recognize their fatal flaws, despite that he cares for them, almost like an older brother to them. He's pretty smart and looks like he could snap my back if he really tried. Still don't know his full story...it's gonna be hard to work around him if I ever decide to tear this little group apart.
Julie. She's an arrogant bitch. I'd respect that, if she wasn't fucking unbearable. She's very careful with her words. We both have the same affinity for psychological warfare, and she lets me know that. Therefore, I don't know many of her vulnerabilities. She was a collage student and dropped out to be a criminal with her charming prince, what a fairy tale. Despite being the smartest out of all of them, she's also their greatest weakness. Without Frank having Julie, I believe he'll fall apart. If I tear their group apart, I need to make them see Julie for who she really is.
This is all over the place.
#main art#danny johnson#the legion#the legion dbd#dead by daylight#dbd#dbd ask blog#dbd killer#legion susie#legion frank#legion joey#legion julie#ghostface#the ghostface#Olsen's Journal#also yes i did do some changes to the legion's story bc i think its a bit better for what i want#oop i forgor his second name!#jed olsen#danny jed olsen johnson#and also the looooooooong one#does anybody use that? i appreciate you taking the time to write that lmao#also happy valentine's day!!! <3#muse
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