#and she was like “’your homework is to just do the thing!’

[httpswritings]

if you were my little girl: the series part 2

alexia putellas x child!reader; this story contains mentions of traumatic experiences as drug addiction, child abuse and similar topics. don't read it if you find those topics triggering.

Silent Guardian

The days blurred into a kaleidoscope of drills, sprints, and the comforting thud of the ball against your foot. But there was a new element to your routine – Alexia. True to her word, she started attending your training sessions, a silent guardian on the sidelines. Your heart would skip a beat every time you saw her, a jolt of encouragement coursing through you with each approving nod.

The facade held. Your parents, wary of an audience, behaved with a semblance of normalcy in public, so Alexia's suspicion of you being in danger faded.

Every goal you scored, every perfectly weighted pass, was a victory not just on the scoreboard, but over the darkness that lurked within your home. Alexia's cheers, a joyful eruption amidst the roar of the crowd, were a balm to your little but damaged self.

Alexia couldn't help but watch you closely. The way you reacted to the world, how certain things seemed to touch you more deeply than others, it tugged at her heart. It wasn't a weakness she saw, but a tenderness that made her want to stand between you and anything that might cause you pain.

Silence Breaks the Bond

The months blurred into a kaleidoscope of drills, sprints, and the comforting thud of the ball against your foot. But on the sidelines of your victories, a different reality waited. Your parents, physically present, were emotionally absent. Empty lunchboxes on the counter remained a daily reminder of their disinterest, a stark contrast to the cheers echoing from the training grounds.

They didn't care about your school life neither did they help you with your homework.

To be fair, they seemed like normal stressed parents worried about work and paying bills.

They were ghosts, navigating their own anxieties, leaving you to navigate yours alone.

You started doing bad at school.

Failed exams, no homework done, complains from teachers, etc.

At the tender age of seven, the world of learning seemed to have lost its allure, replaced by a growing sense of disillusionment.

The once-sparkling curiosity that had defined you was now dimmed, replaced by a veil of melancholy. The vibrant colors of your childhood were fading, replaced by a somber gray that mirrored the turmoil within you, grappling with a burden that seemed too heavy for your young shoulders to bear.

Alexia became a source of unexpected pressure. She'd noticed your withdrawal and failing grades, her playful questions morphing into a worried insistence you tell her what was wrong. You longed to confide in her, but the trauma remained a locked vault within you. Your silence, fueled by fear and confusion, was misinterpreted by Alexia as defiance. The frustration simmered in her eyes, a stark contrast to the warmth you once knew. The unspoken words hung heavy between you, a heartbreaking consequence of your unspoken pain.

Alexia's words hit you harder than any punishment your parents could dish out. Her disappointment, a word laced with hurt, echoed in the empty space where your secret pain resided. The fear you'd been holding back morphed into a suffocating dread. "Letting her down" felt like a betrayal, a confirmation that your silence had pushed away the one person you trusted. The weight of guilt settled on your shoulders. Maybe Alexia was right. Maybe you were just being a brat, making everything worse. But the truth, the darkness you couldn't speak of, felt like an insurmountable wall, isolating you further.

A Sanctuary Built for Two

The midday sun beat down mercilessly on the training field, mirroring the intensity of the practice session. Drills were brutal, pushing you to your physical and mental limits. But amidst the exhaustion, a memory, a dark tendril from the buried trauma, surfaced unexpectedly. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the image of the coach barking orders, his voice a distant echo.

The memory was vivid – your mother's hand, rough and unforgiving, twisting into your hair. You tasted salt, tears mixing with the remnants of uneaten food. Your whimpers, a desperate plea, were lost in the chaos of the moment. It was a recurring scene, one you'd desperately tried to compartmentalize, to bury deep within the recesses of your mind.

You stumbled, legs weak, vision obscured by a veil of tears. A hand, strong and steady, caught you before you could hit the ground. It was Alexia, her concern etched on her face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice laced with urgency. But you couldn't speak. The words wouldn't come, trapped behind a lump in your throat that constricted your breathing.

Alexia didn't need words to understand. Her arm wrapped around your shoulders, a silent haven in the midst of the chaos. She gently held your body on her arms and took you to the coolness of the locker room, a sanctuary away from the prying eyes on the field.

The locker room was a stark contrast to the sun-drenched field. Here, shadows clung to the corners, and the air hung heavy with the lingering scent of sweat and disinfectant. Alexia ushered you onto a bench, its worn leather cool against your burning skin.

For what felt like an eternity, you were unable to speak. Sobs wracked your small frame, your only sound a desperate struggle for air. But Alexia didn't push, didn't force you to talk. Instead, she sat beside you, a silent anchor in the storm.

"Breathe, little one, breathe," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm. "I'm here. I'm here." Her words, a gentle mantra, slowly coaxed you back from the precipice. Slowly, your sobs subsided, replaced by ragged gasps for breath.

Tears continued to stream down your face, but they were different now, cleansed of the initial terror.

Alexia didn't insult you for crying. Alexia didn't hit you.

Alexia was different.

Building a Safe Haven

Alexia, staring at your failing grades and withdrawn demeanor, felt a pang of something deeper than disappointment. It was a dawning realization – a fear that maybe everyone, including her, had been failing you. Here you were, at the tender age of seven, already burdened by a weight no child should carry.

The love she held for you, a love stronger than she ever anticipated, twisted with a fierce protectiveness. She saw the spark in your eyes dimming, replaced by a dull ache of something unspoken. Maybe, she thought, the answer wasn't pushing you harder, but stepping back. Allowing you the space to simply be a child, to rediscover the joy of scraped knees and silly jokes, just like she had done when she was younger.

It was a humbling thought, an admission that her initial approach, fueled by worry, had missed the mark entirely. Perhaps, the greatest act of love wouldn't be pushing you towards some perceived potential, but creating a safe haven where you could just be you.

The smell of betrayal

The final whistle blew, signaling the end of another grueling practice. Relief battled with exhaustion as you slumped against the fence. Alexia appeared with her her usual bright smile, joined by Mapi and Ingrid.

She reached out for her almost daily hug, the one you always cherished. But this time, the familiar warmth was tainted by a sickeningly sweet, fermented odor. It hit you like a physical blow. You pulled back abruptly, your nose scrunched in disgust.

"You smell weird," you blurted out, the words laced with a coldness you didn't recognize in yourself.

Alexia faltered, her smile collapsing. "Oh," she chuckled nervously, "it's just... well, the season's over, and I, uh, had a celebratory sip of beer with the team."

Mapi said something to you but you weren't able to hear it.

It wasn't the beer itself. You didn't know the taste, even if you had witnessed countless nights where your parents drowned their sorrows in amber liquid. But the smell – that was the monster. It was the reeking ghost of countless nights spent huddled in fear, the acrid air clinging to furniture and clothes, a constant reminder of a childhood that was being stolen by addiction.

The love you held for Alexia battled with the rising tide of anger and despair. "Well, you can go so you can keep celebrating," you muttered, your voice flat.

"No! But I...I wanted to introduce you to Mapi and Ingrid! They couldn't wait anymore to meet you!" Her voice trailed off, lost in the chasm that had suddenly opened between you.

You stared at her, the playful glint in your eyes replaced by a steely glint of hurt. Your usual tenderness, the very quality that drew you to Alexia, had vanished, replaced by a wall you didn't even know you could build. The damage was done. The smell of beer had become a cruel reminder that you couldn't escape that substance, because you'll find it in every adult.

The silence stretched on, heavy and awkward. You poked a hole in the dirt with your shoe, the playful glint in your eyes replaced by a frown. Alexia's happy face seemed to wilt under your scrutiny. You didn't want to hurt her feelings, but the yucky beer smell clung to her like a bad memory.

"Maybe," you mumbled, kicking another clump of dirt, "grown-ups aren't supposed to smell like yucky beer. Maybe they're supposed to smell like, like..." you scrunched your nose, searching for the right words, "...like cookies!"

Alexia's cheeks flushed red. You weren't sure if it was from the beer or because you'd caught her in something you considered bad. It made you feel even grumpier. Cookies! That's how grown-ups should smell, not like something that makes your tummy feel poorly, thinking how you always witnessed your parents throwing up.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in your head. You puffed out your chest, trying to look as grown-up as possible. "Maybe," you declared, sticking your chin out, "I don't need hugs anymore. Maybe I don't need anyone who smells like yucky beer!"

A big, fat tear rolled down your cheek. You hated crying, but the words just tumbled out before you could stop them. Alexia knelt down slowly, her eyes filled with a sadness that made you feel a tiny bit bad. Alexia realized something must had to happened to you to be so disgusted by beer.

"Hey," she said softly, wiping away your tear with her thumb. "It's okay to be mad. But remember," she held out a finger with a sparkly ring on it, "I'll always be here for you, even if I mess up. Pinky promise?"

You hesitated, wiping your nose on your sleeve. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all. But all you wanted right now was to go inside, hug your stuffed bear, and pretend the bad smells and confusing grown-up things didn't exist.

Taking a deep breath, you looked up at Alexia. "Maybe," you whispered, barely audible, "maybe you could smell like cookies tomorrow?"

Alexia's smile was small, but it reached her eyes. It wasn't the usual bright smile, but it had a spark of understanding. "Cookies sounds delicious," she said, ruffling your hair gently.

The Most Important Match Of All

The car door slammed shut, the harsh sound echoing in the otherwise quiet street. Alexia watched the taillights of your parents' car disappear around the corner, a knot of unease tightening in her stomach. You had left, a small figure dwarfed by the backseat, your face a mask of conflicting emotions.

She turned to Mapi and Ingrid, their faces etched with concern mirroring her own. "I wasn't expecting her to be so upset," Alexia confessed, her voice a low murmur.

Mapi, ever the pragmatist, offered a tentative smile. "Maybe she's just shy, Ale. Kids can be like that sometimes, especially around new people."

But Alexia shook her head, a flicker of doubt clouding Mapi's optimistic facade. “No, this feels different. She was so excited about the idea of meeting you. Then, the second she noticed the smell of alcohol...“ Her voice trailed off, the memory of your sudden withdrawal a fresh wound.

A pang of guilt shot through Alexia. She had been so focused on nurturing your talent on the field, on pushing you towards your potential, on making you her heir to La Reina title, that she might have missed something crucial. Had she been too blindsided by her own ambition, neglecting to see the emotional landscape of your life?

Ingrid, the quiet observer of the group, stepped forward. Her eyes, usually so calm, held a steely glint. "There's something more going on, Alexia. I can feel it in my gut. Her parents seem...well, normal from the outside. Polite, hardworking. But that doesn't mean things are sunshine and rainbows behind closed doors."

Shame washed over her. She had prided herself on being your mentor, your confidante, yet she had failed to see the silent cries for help. The realization was a bitter pill to swallow. Here she was, a celebrated athlete, yet she had fumbled the most important match of all.

"Maybe you're right," Alexia admitted, the words hollow in her mouth. The past few months flickered past her inner eye – your dwindling appetite, the exhaustion clinging to you like a shadow, the plummeting grades that you brushed off as a temporary dip. Signs she had chosen to ignore, attributing them solely to the pressure of training.

Taking a deep breath, Alexia pushed the self-pity aside. You were home with your parents, and that was where you had to be for now. But a fierce determination ignited within her. Things were about to change. She would find a way to bridge the gap, to create a safe space where the mask could finally fall away. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but for the first time, Alexia wasn't just looking at you as a prodigy with boundless potential. She saw you for who you truly were – a vulnerable child in need of support, a child she wouldn't fail again

The price of cookies

The warmth of freshly baked cookies, a pact between Alexia and you, still lingered in the air whenever she was around. Yet, a subtle transformation had taken root. The once jovial mentor had morphed into a vigilant sentinel. Her gaze, once playful, now held an undercurrent of suspicion, scanning your surroundings like a hawk. Every interaction, every word exchanged with someone new, was dissected with a silent intensity.

The incident from the other day had shattered the illusion of a seemingly perfect world. The realization that normalcy, like a facade, could conceal a hidden darkness gnawed at Alexia. It felt like a betrayal, not just of her trust, but of the haven she'd meticulously built for you – a world where football was a source of joy, not a potential escape route. Memories of scraped knees and goofy jokes now felt like faded photographs tucked away in a forgotten album. In their place, Alexia had constructed an invisible shield around you, a desperate attempt to ward off the world's harsh realities.

What words can't describe

Alexia gnawed on her lip, her stomach a tightly wound knot. Building trust with your parents felt like navigating a minefield. It was essential, she knew, but the thought of putting on a facade left a bitter taste in her mouth. Yet, when your parents invited her over for dinner, a forced smile flickered on her lips as she accepted.

Stepping into your apartment, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over her. It was normal. Two bedrooms, a comfortable living room bathed in warm light, and even a small balcony overlooking a quiet street. Relief battled with the nagging suspicion that had taken root in her mind. Everything was clean and tidy, a picture of domestic normalcy that clashed with the unease she couldn't quite shake.

The sight of you, however, brought a genuine smile to her face. Your eyes held a spark of joy that had been missing for weeks, and a wave of protectiveness washed over her. She followed you to your room, the air thick with the sweet scent of childhood. This was your sanctuary, your safe space. Pink and white walls were adorned with a mishmash of treasures: a menagerie of stuffed animals, a rainbow of storybooks, and a collection of dolls in various states of wear and tear.

One doll, however, stood out. A Nancy doll, the limited edition modeled after the Spanish National Team, held a prominent place on your shelf. Alexia felt a tug at her heartstrings.

"That's you," you said shyly, your cheeks dusted with a rosy blush.

Alexia's heart melted.

She didn't know how she got to the point where she felt an overwhelming love for you.

Glancing at the opposite wall, her gaze softened even more. There, proudly displayed on a corkboard, were your artistic creations. Football pitches in vibrant greens and blues, colorful caricatures of your friends, a self-portrait with a gap-toothed grin, and a collection of drawings that featured a prominent figure – Alexia herself, rendered in all her glory (or at least, your interpretation of it).

"That's also you," you said, pointing at a drawing of her mid-dribble, a determined expression etched on her face.

A warm chuckle escaped Alexia's lips. "I'm starting to feel like a permanent resident here!" she joked, the sweetness of your gesture a balm to her worry.

"I could make you a real one," you offered, tilting your head with a hopeful smile. "A drawing, I mean."

The offer felt like a lifeline tossed in a stormy sea. "I'd love that.”

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) 11

Part 10

The smell of a pup was usually a fresh, neutral scent on their own until they officially presented and it ripened with the unique scent of adolescence. It was why scenting one’s child was important. A way to mark them as your own for the whole world to know. And it was typical of parents to do this before seeing their child off somewhere, particularly school.

Shawn never really noticed before now how sometimes his classmates would smell just a little different, depending on who scented them. He wasn’t the only one with one parent but Daniel got to see his mom on weekends, and Elodie still talked to her dad. Shawn was the only one with a single parent with no contact with his other. And he wasn’t complaining. But now that he noticed, he wondered if other people noticed his single note of a scent.

No one had ever made him feel bad about it but maybe they were just being nice about his situation…

Eddie greeted his students in the morning, usually with a high five or a fist bump. “Warm up’s on your desks, make sure you have a sharpened pencil.”

Elodie got to her desk before unpacking and looked at the worksheet. “Do we get to color?”

“What do the directions say?”, Eddie asked, encouraging her to read.

“‘Color…your fa…vorite food’. Yay!”

Eddie told her good job before seeing to the other students and making sure unpacking by the cubbies went without any drama. It all seemed to be going well, so he turned his back. Of course, that was when he heard shoving and the beginnings of a wailing cry.

Shawn was at his desk while Mr. Munson tried to soothe Yasmin. She bumped her head against his leg like she was much younger than six, a move that would normally get an adult to scent her and assure her she wasn’t in trouble. Mr. Munson just gave her a pat on the head and reminded her that the cubbies had names and she couldn’t just put her things wherever she wanted, but also Daniel shouldn’t toss other’s belongings onto the floor.

Mr. Munson was really nice like that, giving head pats, and high fives, but he never scented any of the students. That would be weird. But would he scent Shawn? Where did they stand, now that he was dating his dad?

After school, Steve came and he rubbed Shawn’s cheeks. “You’re like my cute mochi thing. What do they call it? The white thing?”

“Cinnamoroll?”, Eddie and Shawn said in unison.

“No, the other thing. The rabbit.”

“That’s Cinnamoroll, Dad. Now please release my cheeks”, Shawn said.

That just made Steve squish them together more. “No, there’s something else. And I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be a dog anyway.” He let Shawn’s face go and looked up at Eddie. “We still on for tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world”, Eddie promised.

Shawn waited until they were in the car before asking. “What’s tonight?”

Steve smiled. “He’s coming over for dinner.”

“What’re we having?”, Shawn asked, trying to look nonchalant as he played with his seatbelt.

“I was thinking cockroach legs and frog’s eyes”, Steve said, snickering at the look of disgust that he caught in the mirror. “Well what would you serve then?”

“Make your own tacos. I saw you taking out ground beef earlier.”

“You know what, that could work”, Steve agreed. Nevermind that Shawn also would’ve seen the different vegetables on the counter, as well as various sauces which could only be used for tacos. Christopher Nolan, eat your heart out.

Eddie would be spending the evening with them as it was decided that he should do so without it being a date. He and Steve knew they worked well together, now it was time to add Shawn to the mix. He would only be his teacher for a few more months after all. And then in a few years, he would probably be Steve’s. So keeping them apart for that reason was about to be null and void.

Steve had Shawn finish his homework at the table while he started cooking. Eddie arrived about half an hour later, knocking at the door. Steve sent Shawn to get it only because he was washing his hands from touching raw meat and he recognized the roar of Eddie’s van by now. 

“Well, if it isn’t the man of the house”, Eddie smiled when Shawn opened the door.

“Are you here to sell cookies?”, Shawn teased.

“Hmm, no cookies, only pie”, he said, bringing one from behind his back.

Shawn shrugged. “That’ll work.”

He let Eddie in and they joined his dad in the kitchen. Eddie greeted Steve with a kiss, who smiled when he saw the dessert Eddie brought. 

“You didn’t have to.”

“I didn’t. Safeway did.”

Dinner was a fun affair. Probably the only low point for Shawn was when the two of them randomly broke out into a song that he didn’t know and even danced along to it. Did they not see how embarrassing they were? The tacos were good though. Shawn liked to put a ton of cheese on his. 

“Hey, you got something there”, Eddie said in the middle of eating.

“Where?”, Steve asked, trying to look at his own face.

Eddie put a swipe of sour cream on his nose. “There.”

Shawn laughed enough to shake his own taco (#3) and make half the ingredients spill out onto his plate. After eating, Shawn helped by bringing the dirty dishes to the sink and helping Steve wrap up the leftovers while Eddie got to washing. Shawn got to take his slice of pie to the living room so long as he ate at the coffee table, leaving the two adults alone.

They were shoulder to shoulder as they washed and dried. At one point, Steve put his head on Eddie’s shoulder and they paused for a moment, soaking it all in. It was only one night but this one night boded well for their future. Once the dishes were done, they joined Shawn, who had taken up the middle of the couch. Without a word, they sat on either side of him. Shawn had it on a kids’ sitcom, but honestly it didn’t matter what they were watching. 

Steve and Eddie’s arms were across the back of the couch so that they could touch, leaving Eddie’s side open for Shawn to lean into. Shawn let out a yawn, full and tired. Then he bumped his forehead against Eddie’s chest. His eyes bugged out, looking at Steve for a sign, approval, something. He didn’t want to spook Shawn by using his voice though. Steve’s eyes were glistening a little as he nodded. 

Slowly, Eddie brought his arm down and rubbed his wrist against Shawn’s hair and cheeks. Steve could just barely hear the coo of contentment. When they were sure he was asleep, Eddie gathered Shawn in his arms and carried him to his room, Steve leading the way. 

“Wait for me in my room”, Steve whispered so that he could give Shawn a bit of privacy while dressing him down in his pjs.

Eddie waited faithfully, sitting on the edge of the bed when Steve finally came in. They spent the night sharing slow kisses, building each other up while using just their hands to finish the job. It was still a school night, after all.

From then on, Eddie took some time to scent Shawn while he was fully awake, sometimes even at school. The other students didn’t think much of it but the week after just happened to be the school-wide spelling bee. A few parents were in attendance. Steve couldn’t make it, as it was the middle of the day, but Eddie promised him pictures.

Shawn took first place, almost stumbling on the word ‘lightning’ but pushing through. The awards were given and parents congratulated their kids, getting pictures as well. Eddie kept himself available, only about half of his students’ parents showed up. Shawn showed his trophy to a friend who was standing by their dad.

He knelt down by Shawn. “You want me to get some pics for your dad, kiddo?”

“Mr. Munson’s gonna text my dad, right?”, Shawn beamed.

“That I will”, Eddie promised.

It was such a benign interaction that Eddie didn’t think a thing of it. But in that moment, the other parent caught a whiff of Shawn, who smelled too similar to Mr. Munson. And texting a parent? On its own, not strange but he’d been careful not to give out his personal number to anyone. He communicated mostly through emails. Sometimes a flyer in the kids’ folders. It was all just adding up to something fishy in his opinion…

He voiced as much to his wife when he got home and she just didn’t see it.

“Are you trying to say Shawn’s dad slept with the teacher so he could win the spelling bee?”

“I mean I’m not saying that exactly, but it seems kind of rigged, doesn’t it?”

She called their daughter down from her room. “Is your friend Shawn a good speller?”

“Yeah, he can even spell some second grade words. They ran out of first grade words to give him.”

“Well, your daddy didn’t mention that.”

“I just think we shouldn’t rule it out.” A lot of the parents knew each other, at least in passing. So it was no secret that Steve was single. Of course, most would never suspect he was dating his son’s teacher but considering the scent he was carrying…

As this was brewing on Eddie's side, from Steve's past a familiar face approached closer and closer.

Part 12 coming soon

Fun fact: that actually happened at my school's spelling bee. Two of my first graders spelled so well, they had to move on to second grade words. Don't praise me though, they came to me that smort.

Taglist

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @gregre369 @attic-cat-blog

@hippieg1rl420 @spectrum-spectre

[fuctacles]

@steddiesummerexchange for @chaosgremlinmunson | part 2/3 | beta @stevesjockstrap 💚

T | 10858 | Steddie, Buckingham, platonic Stobin and Hellcheer, Wayne&Eddie | Soulmate AU, unconventional soulmates, misunderstandings, idiot4idiot, fluff | divider & meme doodle by me | Part 1 | Part 3 | Ao3

Eddie doesn't have to wait long for Robin to call him. He's chilling on his bed, plunking on the guitar and ignoring homework, when he hears a knock on his door.

"Son? There's a call for you," his uncle says through the closed door. (He'll say it's because he values his nephew's privacy, but they both know it's for plausible deniability.) Eddie is confused at first but then remembers he did give away his number that day, for a very important cause. He puts the guitar to the side and jumps up from the bed. 

"Who is it?" he asks upon opening his door, startling his uncle. The man raises his eyebrows at him.

"A girl that's not Chrissy," he says, voice carefully blank and yet calculatingly implying. "Robin from the sex store?"

If she has introduced herself like that, to a random dude's parental figure, he knows she and Chrissy would get along great. 

"It's not like that!" He rolls his eyes, before running toward the phone.

"Should I leave?" his uncle yells back.

"No, please, stay so you know it's a civilized conversation between a tutor and her student," he answers with a glare and picks up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Bold of you to assume we're a tutor and student already," comes the snark comment from the other end of the line. 

Eddie admits to himself, and only himself, that he might have jumped a bit on this one. 

"Sorry, I just had to say something normal to my uncle about the girl from the sex shop," he says pointedly and to her credit, the sex shop girl has the decency to make an apologetic hiss. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. Blurting shit out without thinking is my cardinal sin."

He barks out a laugh. Fuck, she is perfect.

"No worries, I'm sure my uncle has heard worse."

"I have," Wayne mutters under his breath while sorting through their laundry nearby. Well, in the cramped trailer space, everything was nearby. Eddie grins at him and his uncle fips him the bird without even looking up. Eddie flips one back.

"I'm assuming your friend passed my message?" he asks, focusing back on the conversation with his soulmate's crush.

"Yeah, he did. But before I agree to anything, I must ask you something."

"Shoot."

"Are you hitting on me?" 

Eddie chokes on his tongue. 

"No?!" he reacts immediately. He hears her scoff into his ear so he tries to save it. "Not that you're not like, good looking or anything, you're just not my type and I actually really need the tutoring," he says the truth, even if it was just an afterthought in his plan to get closer to her for the wingmaning purposes. "Besides," he pauses, not sure if he should say anything. But something in the way Robin has been communicating so far makes him want to run his mouth without shame as well.

"Besides?" she prompts, slightly annoyed. It's her tone that helps him make up his mind in the end.

"I wouldn't do that to my friend," he says.

The line goes silent. Unnervingly so. Eddie gives her time to gather her thoughts and wonders if it was the wrong thing to say after all. If it was a confession too close to revealing his ulterior motives. 

"Hey—"

"Which one?" she asks abruptly, cutting him off.

"Huh?"

"I'm not into your DnD nerds."

Oh, so she did a background check on him. Well, not that there were many metalhead Eddies in Hawkins High. He presses the receiver between his shoulder and ear so he can pop his knuckles. His hands are itching for stimulation; guitar strings, a pen, a joint, anything. 

"What about nerdettes?" 

His uncle snorts somewhere in the background but Eddie is great and making up words, thank you very much and fuck you, Uncle Wayne, you're uncultured. 

"Yeah, that's..." Robin takes a loud, steadying breath. "That's more up my speed."

Eddie is not a quiet person. He finds it difficult not to voice his opinions and his favorite music has been described by some as "angry yelling". So he's very proud of himself for managing a silent little happy dance, even if he almost drops the phone in the process. He can feel his uncle's judgemental eyes on him but completely ignores them. 

"Great! I'll pass on the good news to her then." He smiles cockily against the receiver. 

"Yeah, uh, you do that." She coughs softly. "So um, am I safe to assume you are scheming to land your friend a date with me?"

"Well..."

"And the fact that I can tutor you, a super senior, while doing it, is just a cherry on top?" 

"Super super senior," Eddie corrects her. "But, uh, yeah, you'd be right." Eddie has a feeling they'll get along smoothly. Maybe there was another universe where they were platonic soulmates as well. 

"Does tomorrow work for you?"

"Uh, yeah," he says, almost forgetting what the call was supposed to be about. 

"Please do not bring your friend," she adds, a slight panic in her voice, 

"No of course." He nods furiously, even though she can't see it. "You haven't passed the soulmate's approval yet." 

"You guys are soulmates?" she asks, a bit too loud in his ear.

"Uh yeah?"

"Oh my god! Just like Steve and me!"

He blinks into the ether with a frown.

"You guys are soulmates?" 

"Duh! I've never met other platonic soulmates before. Do you think we could hang out, the four of us?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess?" He's a little bit lost, a ton ecstatic, but most of all, he wasn't prepared for all of this so he's scrambling for words to find. "I think it would be nice," he offers.

"Great. We can talk it out tomorrow, after school?" she offers and it takes him a moment to understand.

"Oh, yeah," he catches up finally, "The library?"

"Yeah, works for me. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," he parrots. He listens to her drop one last goodnight before the line goes dead.

Wayne gives him a moment to contemplate on stuff, before walking up to him. He takes the phone from his loose grip and puts it back on the cradles.

"Wanna catch me up?" he asks. It's not demanding, it never is, the way he's heard some parents talk to their kids. It's a genuine offer to get involved in his nephew's life. Eddie's eyes finally focus on him.

"Can I get a beer?"

"Can I get a joint?" Wayne shoots back, making Eddie smile.

"Deal."

They sit around their tiny coffee table, sharing a joint while Eddie catches him up on the events since he and Chris stepped into a random sex shop in the middle of a storm. When he's finished, Wayne hoards the joint with a look of concern in his eyes, despite Eddie reaching out for his turn on the weed.

"Son." His voice turns stern, letting him know it's important and he should listen.

"What?" Eddie whines instead, making one more pathetic flail for the reefer. 

"So you meet this guy twice on sheer accident, your soulmates seem to be interested in each other and he has a DnD tattoo, which is something you are very interested in."

"Yeah?" Eddie frowns, completely oblivious to where his uncle is going. He reached out again but the joint was just flying further out of his reach. 

"Son. Don't you think the DnD soulmate he's looking for, might be you?" his uncle says bluntly, clearly the weed speaking through him properly.

Eddie shakes his head.

"I don't have the tattoo to match."

"Kid, I will smack you into a different state," Wayne says flatly and seems about ready to act on his threat. "Do they teach you nothing at school?"

"I don't know, I'm not learning anything."

Wayne glares at him while Eddie gives him an innocent smile. 

"I knew a guy," he says, the patience for his nephew thin yet endless. "Whose mark complimented his wives. He had a fork and she had a knife."

"You're joking," Eddie says with a delighted smile.

"No," Wayne smiles at him. "They opened a very successful bistro. I also knew a couple who got matching marks after they met."

"That's stupid." Eddie frowns. "How is that supposed to make finding your soulmate easier?"

Wayne shrugs.

"Since when anything in life is easy? Or smart? Or making sense?" 

His uncle stares at the wall with that ancient philosopher's gaze and Eddie finally manages to pluck the joint out of his hand.

"Okay, old man, I think that's enough weed for you today."

He doesn't protest and turns to his nephew instead.

"Every relationship is unique, you know? And so are the soulmate bonds."

Eddie knows it's true, but his mind doesn't want to wrap around the possibility suggested here. 

"You know what is very unique? A teenager and his uncle indulging in illegal substances on a random afternoon."

Wayne smiles at him, gathering him into a sideways hug.

"Ain't no other family like ours," he agrees. And then promptly breaks the moment by tightening his grip to give Eddie a noogie.

"Ow, no, Wayne! My hair!"

"I didn't know I booked a double lesson." Eddie raises his eyebrows when he spots not one but two people waiting at the library entrance. 

The shrimp in a hat next to Robin snorts.

"Please," he lisps. "I don't need tutoring."

Eddie frowns at the tone of the literal freshman in front of him and watches Robin cross her arms.

"I don't know, kid, your Latin could use some work."

The kid bristles, his hackles rising like an angry cat. It looks very amusing and forces Eddie to bite his lip not to smile.

"I am working on it! Thank you very much!"

"So," Eddie reminds them of his presence. "What is the nerd doing here?" he rephrases his question.

"The nerd," the kid repeats, his tone not offended, but proud, which Eddie can totally fuck with. "Heard you're a Dungeon Master?" 

Under all his cockiness and self-confidence, he couldn't hide the excitement and hope. Eddie smiled against himself and gave a small bow.

"Indeed I am. Eddie the Banished, Son of the Moon. At your service."

"Oh my god," Robin groans, while the kid seems about ready to pee his pants from excitement. "Let's go, you nerds, you can talk on the way." She rolls her eyes and turns without looking back. Eddie follows her in the direction of study rooms and the kid trots along next to him.

"I'm Dustin, by the way. A dwarven bard," he introduces himself.

"Dustin?" It rings a bell... "Wait, Steve's freshman friend?"

The kid grins with delight.

"He said we're friends?"

Uh-oh.

"I don't remember what he said exactly," he covers up quickly. "But I do remember he mentioned a party looking for a DM. Are you guys new to DnD?"

The smile he got for that question made him lowkey want to smack the kid and highkey excited to have players he won't have to spend a whole campaign explaining the rules to. He would, if needed, but having seasoned players with their own playing styles he doesn't know yet? That's trouble at the table that he couldn't wait to witness.

Robin refuses to let Dustin pass through the door professionally labeled (with a black marker on a piece of paper) as a 'student tutoring' room. She puts a hand against his chest when he tries to follow them.

"Listen, Henderson. I promised Steve I'd give this guy a chance..."

Eddie raises his eyebrow at that piece of information.

"And you're going to ruin it if you keep bothering us. Do you want Steve to be disappointed?"

Dustin frowns at her and the arm holding him back. He swats it away but doesn't pass the threshold. 

"That's blackmail," he huffs, crossing his arms.

"That's facts," Robin corrects him. "Go bother someone else. Eddie already agreed to play with you."

"But there's so much to discuss beforehand!" the boy protests. Eddie decides to throw him a bone. Mostly because he really needs to bring that wingmanning to a satisfying end.

"Can you come to our table tomorrow? I'll introduce you to Hellfire guys and we can talk out some details then."

Dustin immediately lights up.

"Can my friends come too?"

"Of course, man. Gotta test your vibe."

"Okay! Tomorrow at lunch!" He jumps up on the balls of his feet, slowly retracing backward. 

"Yeah, bud. See you then."

"See you! I'll show you the characters I've been working on!"

"You really don't have to—"

But he was already gone. Eddie sighs as Robin slams the door shut and falls against them with a groan.

"He's so exhausting," she complains. "Smart as hell, a great kid, but so exhausting."

Eddie chuckles. 

"Yeah, I can see that. How are you guys even friends?" he asks curiously. But Robin shakes her head, pushing herself away from the door. 

"Nuh-uh. You're not getting the backstory yet. Spanish first, chit-chat later."

Right. Studying. The bane of Eddie's existence.

Robin manages only half an hour of his stupidity (foreign-language-rejecting brain, she called it, but he'll keep calling it stupidity) before announcing a break.

She rests her head against her arms, blocking out the light, while Eddie runs through the million topics on his mind that he could start. Apparently, he stares at her hair long enough for her to notice it.

"Just say what's on your mind, man," she mumbles against the textbook.

"Did Steve really ask you to help me out?" This was not what he intended to ask, and certainly not what he was there for, but it was already out.

Robin lifts her head slightly.

"Yeah. He seems weirdly fond of you," she answers with her eyes narrowed like it was somehow his fault her friend was acting weird. 

Eddie shrugs, thinking of a reasonable explanation.

"Maybe he's hoping to find his soulmate if he keeps befriending DnD nerds," he offers. 

She snorts. It feels like she's laughing at him, though. He frowns. 

"Yeah. Speaking of soulmates, though..." She straightens up, suddenly nervous. "I think. And I might be wrong. But it felt similar with Steve, so I'm like, eighty percent sure..."

"Dude, just spill it."

Robin scrunched her nose.

"I have a feeling about Chrissy."

"Okay?" Eddie frowns. "I mean, that's why I'm here, right? To help you guys out?"

She shakes her head.

"No, like... A soulmate feeling."

Eddie's eyes go wide. 

"For real?"

She nods.

"I mean, at least I think so." 

"Well, you have something to compare it to, so I will trust your judgment," he reassures her. Only then do the meaning of her words hit him, and his eyes go wide. "Holy shit! You're Chrissy's soulmate!"

"Probably," Robin rushes in to add. "She didn't say anything about it, did she?" She's adamant about not getting her hopes up. If she was the only one who felt it, maybe it was a false alarm. Maybe she had eaten something bad earlier that day.

"No," Eddie admits with a twist of his mouth. "But she's not good at picking up this stuff. We had been friends for a month before we realized we were bonded."

That does make her feel better. She was the first to pick up on her bond with Steve as well, so maybe it was simply a Robin thing.

"But she's uh, she's interested, right?" she asks to clarify. It feels awkward but still a little less intimidating to have the buffer of her crush's best friend than talking to her directly. 

"She literally wouldn't shut up about you." Eddie grins at her. "Yesterday she dragged me to your store and was very disappointed not to find you there." Which, thinking of, reminds him of Steve. He frowns. "Did you tell Steve? Because I was positive for awhile, that he was hitting on Chris."

"No, I—"

Eddie slams his hand on the table, interrupting her.

"You sent him to spy!" He points at her accusingly. "He was asking about Chrissy for you!"

She shrugs, crossing her arms to give him a deadpan stare despite her fiercely red cheeks. 

"Yeah. And what are you doing right now?"

Eddie grins. Oh, he likes her. 

"Touche," he nods his head. "So, about that date..."

They agree on a date next weekend, and in the meantime, Eddie dusts off an old campaign of his. A one-shot to make sure he'll even want to play with a bunch of kids. Betwee them and the Hellfire guys there's more than enough players, but Dustin asks if he can invite Steve too.

"I don't invite an audience into game sessions," Eddie tells him with a frown. He's gathering their character sheets to know what he'll be dealing with.

"As a player!" Dustin corrects him. "I've been trying to get him to play with us forever and since it's a one-shot maybe he'll finally cave."

Eddie makes a face.

"I'm not taking in a newbie with all seasoned players," he protests.

"But he knows everything about the game! Because of his soulmate?" Dustin reminds him like he's stupid. And he kind of is, because it should be hard to forget trivia. 

"Uh, right." He scratches his cheeks. "Fine, I guess. But I want his character sheet pronto." 

At that, Dustin digs deeper into his bag to retrieve another sheet of paper from between the pages of his math textbook. Eddie groans.

"Are you kidding me? You little shit." But he takes Steve's character sheet from him. Dustin grins widely, satisfied with himself.

"Just this once," he assures. "Well, unless he likes it."

Eddie huffs, offended. 

"He's gonna love it. I'm a great DM."

"I'm sure you are and I'm sure he will. This Friday?"

"3 PM sharp." Eddie points at him.

"Aye aye," Dustin salutes, backing away towards the school crowd and inevitably running into some kid. Not for the first time, and probably not the last one either, Eddie wonders how someone like Henderson got himself involved with Steve Harrington.

Friday comes fast and Eddie is excited to have new players at his table again. Some idiots have been spreading shitty rumors about the game lately, so the interest has been scarce. And now he has three innocent freshmen at his table. And Steve Harrington.

He looks out of place between nerdy freshmen and metalheads. In Eddie's personal opinion, he even smells too well to be there. But he won't deny someone who wants to play. So he sets the scene and lets the dice roll. 

It started in a tavern but with a twist. The party heard a couple of leads and depending on which one they chose, it would lead to the proper adventure or immediate trouble. To everyone's surprise, when one of the NPCs stops talking, Steve is the one to speak up.

"He's lying. It's a trap."

"How do you know?" Mike, one of the freshmen, bristles. 

Everyone raises their eyebrows at Steve, who shrinks in his seat. 

"Uh, a hunch?"

It's a very spot-on hunch and the party is right to listen to him. 

The game proceeds and Eddie is enjoying himself, much like everyone else around the table. Well, maybe except for Steve. The further they went into the game, the quieter he got.

"Pee break!" Eddie announces around the halfway point and everyone scatters to use the bathroom, refill on snacks, or smoke. He's about to stop Harrington from leaving, but he sees him saying something to Dustin with a smile, his ass firm on the chair. And soon, there's only two of them left.

"You okay, man?" he asks without preamble. "If you don't like it I can kill off your character and you can go home," he offers. Usually, he would be meaner about it, but he's seen how much the guy means to Dustin. And to Robin. And Robin means a lot to Chrissy and Chrissy means a lot to him, and so the circle closes. He's not going to be mean to Steve Harrington. He doesn't even want to.

Instead of taking the out, Steve asks him a question.

"Is Bernard the traitor?"

Eddie smirks. Maybe Steve was more invested than he seemed. 

"I'm not answering questions like that, man. It's DM confidential."

Bernard was, in fact, a traitor. 

"He's leading them to the monster as an offering, isn't he?"

"What?" Eddie frowns. Did he read his notes somehow?

"He's killed his father that way too."

That... That wasn't in the notes. Eddie didn't write it down, it was an irrelevant backstory only for him to know.

"Did you write the story?" Steve asks, his brown eyes piercing. 

Eddie licks his lips and nods stiffly. He looks at Steve's hand instinctively, having a hunch of his own on how this story unfolds. 

Steve stands up and Eddie's eyes follow, for the first time studying him properly, how he deserves. His stupid preppy polo, his perfect hair, and the moles on his cheek. He raises his hand, the D20 tattoo on display.

"Shake my hand?"

Eddie sighs.

"Wayne's gonna beat up my ass," he murmurs before grabbing the offered hand. 

He lets out an undignified yelp and Steve lets go immediately, shock on his face. It was just a millisecond sting, nothing else, followed by an electric sensation across his body. He looks at his palm, at the point where their bodies just touched.

There is a matching dice tattoo on his skin. 

He shakes the dice experimentally. It rolls and lands on fourteen. Then ten. He looks up to find Steve's eyes on him, sparkling.

"What happened?!" Lucas suddenly bursts in, probably alerted by Eddie's yell. Dustin crowds in behind him, pushing in, and Jeff peeks curiously over their heads. But before Eddie can even start to explain anything, Dustin starts screeching.

"Oh my god! Are you guys soulmates?! You're soulmates! Oh my god, that's so cool! Holy shit Steve! I knew you'd get along!"

"Dude," Steve scolds him softly. Dustin deflates just a bit but he's still jumping.

"Guys," Eddie speaks up, surprised to even find his voice. "Five more minutes?" He looks up for support from Jeff, who gives him a nod and pulls the rowdy freshmen out of the room. The door closes and he has to pay attention to Steve again. He looks back at him and finds his face carefully blank.

"Disappointed?" he asks, making Steve recoil.

"What? Why would I... What?"

Eddie shrugs. 

"It's fine if I'm not what you expected. You're not what I imagined either."

Chrissy was a surprise, so he assumed if there was another soulmate out there for him, they would be more like him. He usually pictured another metalhead, maybe a hot guitarist, a fantasy writer, or a hot groupie obsessed with his music. A preppy guy living a quiet life in Hawkins? Not in a million years. 

Steve shrugs back.

"Robin isn't what I imagined either, but we work. I don't even know you, so how can I be disappointed?"

"Touche." Eddie grimaces. "Let's hang out sometime so we can speed up the process." 

Steve rolls his eyes but takes a small step towards him. Eddie lets him grab his hand and compare the matching tattoos on their palms. They were nearly identical, but with closer scrutiny, he could see the lines on Steve's were softer than on his. 

"We could make this weekend a double date if the girls agree."

"Uh, I don't know..."

But before he can elaborate, Steve's eyes widen, and his grasp on Eddie's hand tightens minutely.

"Shit, I just assumed you're into guys. I did that with Robin too, I'm so sorry." He's pulling his hand away, face red with embarrassment, but Eddie catches his fingers.

"Uh, no, I am. Both girls and dudes. You just... you know."

"Don't look the type?" Steve raises his eyebrow with amusement. 

"Not exactly," Eddie admits sheepishly. "Okay." He exhales. "Double date, huh? Yeah, I can do that." He nods mostly to reassure himself. Steve smiles and squeezes his hand gently before easing away from his grip. The noise behind the door was getting louder, meaning everyone was back from the bathroom break and seconds away from stomping in.

"Great. I always thought your eyes are beautiful," Steve says just before the party reenters the room. 

It's a lot of yelling and explaining before they can resume the game. It becomes the most unhinged playthrough Eddie has ever witnessed due to everyone making the most outrageous decisions to throw off Steve's omnipotence and make Eddie come up with lore and plot on the spot. 

When they are gathering their stuff a couple of hours later, he's exhausted in the best way.

Steve lingers, almost kicking Dustin out of the door. He even throws him the keys to the car, something he never does, but Eddie doesn't know that. He helps him gather his notes and figurines, which he doesn't protest like he would with others. They would snoop but what's the point in snooping when you already know the whole plot?

"That was fun," Steve admits as he hands Eddie the character sheets. "It's a boomer I can't enjoy the story since I already know everything."

Eddie lets out a soft hum while arranging the papers in his bag in a way they won't get damaged. 

"Gareth's been wanting to DM for a while. It would be nice to take a break once for a change and you could play without getting the plot spoilered," he offers. 

"I'd like that." Steve smiles. Eddie grins at him.

"Okay! I think that's all," he says, looking around for any misplaced dice. "Thanks for helping me out. These bastards always make a run for it as soon as we're done."

"You just don't want them touching your stuff," Steve points out, following him to the door as he fishes out the keys to close behind them.

"That's true, yeah."

Steve hovers behind him while he closes up and Eddie decides to spare him the awkwardness.

"You can go, I still have to give these back to the janitor. I'm sure Henderson is itching to take your car for a spin in the parking lot."

Steve straightens up at the reminder.

"Shit, yeah. I better go to him." He runs his hand through his hair, hesitating for one last moment. "See you tomorrow?"

Eddie almost forgot their double date is this Saturday, but he nods at him. 

"Yeah, see you." He's about to turn around and go their separate ways when Steve leans in.

It's just a soft brush of his lips on his cheek, but Eddie's body immediately sets on fire. 

"See you," throws Steve softly before leaving.

Eddie tightens his grip on the strap of his bag. The keys are digging into the meat of his palm, into the new tattoo there. 

"Oh my god."

[Steve, relating the news.]

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hello! So I'm writing in first person, and I was wondering if you had any tips for tipping off your readers that someone is watching your pov character but that character not noticing until much later or not at all?

Tipping Reader Off in First-Person

When you're writing in first-person, the reader can only know what your character knows. If someone is watching your character but they aren't aware of it, your reader can't be either. That is the choice you make when choosing to write in first-person.

One thing to consider: are there a lot of things the reader needs to know while the POV character can't? If so, you may need to consider other options like multi-POV or third-person omniscient. Otherwise, if it's just this one moment or a few moments like it, here are some options:

1 - Have the character notice the person is watching them but think nothing of it. If they brush it off as no big deal, it's almost as if they didn't notice it, but now the reader knows about it.

2 - Slip into another POV. Is there another POV character who can notice the character watching the main POV character, but who wouldn't tell them for some reason? Could this POV character be utilized a few other times in the story?

3 - Slip into the POV of the watching character but in a really informal way... that might look something like this, at the end of the POV character's chapter:

I looked at my watch and realized I was running late for my job interview. I shoved my homework into my bag and tossed my soda into the trash as I exited the food court. The Cutie Shack was upstairs on the opposite side of the mall. If I hurried, I wouldn't be late. *** They watched her from the safety of their hiding place on the other side of the food court. She had no idea they were there--had been there since the moment she sat down with her large fountain drink and cracked open her biology text book, unaware of their very existence. But the clock was ticking, and Fey time didn't wait for anyone, much less a mortal. They would bring their oblivious queen back to the Fey World sooner rather than later. It was only a matter of time now...

So, that way you're slipping out of your POV character's first-person POV and, after a scene break, slipping into another character's third-person limited POV--in this case, the POV of the character who's doing the watching. But, you could just as easily switch into the POV of anyone who notices the one character watching the other. Whatever works for your story.

This method has the potential to be jarring, but one way you could make it less jarring would be to incorporate that POV in the same way, a few other times, when relevant. That way it just feels like a mechanic of the story and not something that's only there to make up for this one fault of your POV structure.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[iluffyouxo]

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨

╰┈➤ 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐃𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 ✮⋆˙

⋰⋰⋰⋰⋰

Cigarette smoke truly is forlorn.

I watch the smoke curl around his head, and in the dim light of the setting sun, it is blue. It wreathes his face, reaching up to swirl through his dark lashes before outstretching to kiss his hair, rising into nothingness. And it's beautiful; yet I feel somewhat doleful every time I glance at it.

The evening was turning out like any other.

Drawn out like his breath, and boring like his dazed-out leer. His usual scowl and frown.

It was late, or, truly, it felt late. The cherry on his cigarette flared as he sucked in. I was busy doodling away on the corner of my homework textbook as I sat leaned against the wall next to my most loathed co-worker.

Except...right now I didn't loathe him as much as I did a mere six hours ago, when my shift began. It was peaceful, nicotine scented tranquility.

"We should go inside soon, Dixon, it's almost time for our shift change." He puffs out a solemn cloud, a loud sigh passing along his lips with it; a beat passes before he finally responds… “Yeah, I’m sure Eliza is waitin’ on us to clock out wit’ her.” I chuckle, “No, I’m sure she’s sneaking in the back to finish her burrito.”

Daryl glances down at me for a second before looking back up. “Ya make her lunch again, Shorty?” My lips tighten as I give a single slow nod. “She says my cooking reminds her of her mother.”

It takes him another brief moment to reply, “…I see,” is all he says when he finally speaks. And after another paused breath he turns on his heel from his spot leaning against the railing. I quickly scramble to gather my things and shuffle after him. “Hey! Wait up!”

“What were you two doing up there?” As I anticipated Eliza was sitting in the back finishing off her lunch from this afternoon, with the door wide open in case a costumer decides to stroll in.

Eliza is quick to scold us as Daryl and I descend down the final few steps that lead to the roof from the break room. “Your break ended ten minutes ago!” She points to Daryl in an accusatory manner.

Daryl ignores her, opting to answer her by sitting at the only other table across the room exhaling another puff of smoke. “And your lunch ended over two hours ago, what’re ya doin’ back here?”

Eliza’s face turns a deep red before she’s spouting insults at him in Spanish, to which Daryl again completely ignores and continues to smoke the butt of his cigarette. I shake my head at the spectacle, setting my things aside and walking out to the floor, closing the door behind me. “Don’t want costumers witnessing that,” I mumbled.

“Is Daryl getting another tongue lashing tonight?” A soft voice pokes through the silence.

“AH!” I spin around—hand on my chest to ease my rapid heartbeat and jagged breath—to be met with a sly smile and light brown curls on the other side of the counter. “Rick!” I slap him lightly on the arm, “I told you to stop doing that!”

Before Rick can respond through his laughter the back room door swings open to reveal a frantic-looking Daryl and Eliza behind him with a broom gripped tight in her hands.

Their eyes quickly land on Rick and the two visibly relaxed. Eliza discards the broom somewhere in the room as she pushes past Daryl. “Hi, Rick,” she smiles, “How’re you doing tonight?”

Daryl rolls his eyes and moves to stand next to me. “Really, Shorty?” He tsks, “You’re such a pussy.” I glare up at him, “The hell did you say, street rat?” Daryl glares back at me but says nothing as he huffs and leaves from behind the counter.

Rick grinned at Eliza—though, it seemed a bit more forced than before—with a small hum. “I’m doing good, just waiting for Lori, again.”

At the mention of Rick’s wife, Eliza huffs and walks away annoyed. The three of us chuckled under our breath. It was no secret that Eliza had a thing for Rick; however, Rick was a committed man and wasn’t leaving Lori any time soon.

“Cerise?” A voice beckoned me as the entrance opened and someone new walked in, and I smiled upon seeing them. It was my younger sister and my nephew, Anthony. “Michonne!”

Out of the corner of my eye Rick freezes and I sent him a knowing look before I walked over to greet them. “Hi, Auntie!” Anthony grinned when I bent down to give him a hug. “Hi, nephew!” I stand up to say something to Michonne but, I find her preoccupied with staring back at Rick.

“Ummm—“ she clears her throat, “—hi…Rick.” His face grows red as his name rolls off her tongue and he averts his gaze towards me. “Hello, Michonne.”

I shake my head at the spectacle, returning to my post at the register. I suppose Rick wasn’t completely committed to Lori. Not if my sister was involved.

Before the pair could converse further Rick’s phone began to ring. He fishes it out of his work duffel. “Carl?” He answers. “Yeah…alright, I’m on my way.” Rick hangs up with a sigh. Michonne and I instantly notice the shift in his demeanor, she asks him what’s wrong. “It’s Carl,” he starts for the door, “Lori forgot to pick him up from practice again.”

“What!” Eliza chimes in. I hear Daryl cuss somewhere near the back of the store. I hum, “Doesn’t she have the car?” Rick nods. “I’ll have to walk.”

“I’ll take you!” Michonne jumps up from the table she and Anthony were sat at. “I’ll take you…”

Rick agrees with a sharp nod—I’m sure he’s not opposed to spending more time with her—and the three of them give quick goodbyes before walking out to Michonne’s car. I shake my head again. “Ain’t nothing good coming from liking a married man.”

“Tell me about it,” Eliza snickers as she walks past me with the mop. I cut my eyes at her. “You’re one to talk.” But she continues on as if she hadn’t heard a single word.

A disembodied chuckle sounds from the fridges nearest to the register counter, and I smirk proudly to myself. Sometimes, it was nice to know that I could make Daryl laugh—as reticent as he was.

The rainy season had just begun, now that it was the beginning of April, and as I opened my umbrella a loud crash of thunder boomed and lightning struck against the large, dark clouds. “See you guys later!” Eliza called over her shoulder as she squished into the backseat of her mother’s car, where she was met by the rest of her siblings. I sent her a small wave as I watched the car drive past. “Ya ready to go?” Daryl mumbled against the cigarette between his lips. I nod and we began walking down the sidewalk.

After Daryl moved out of his dad’s house and into his brother’s apartment about a month ago, we walked home together now that we lived in the same direction.

Every once in a while we’d strike up a conversation, but that was rarer than not. We’d usually stroll in an awkward silence that anyone could cut with a knife. It was rather uncomfortable; but he always insisted on walking me despite that fact.

Just then he cleared his throat—I flinched—I guess today was going to be another rare occurrence. “So…why don’ you date?”

I pause in my movement and turn to him with a quirked brow. What an unwarranted question. “What—?” He cleared his throat again, as if something was stuck in it, he was obviously anxious. “Why, uh, why don’ you date? Ya been single for a while now, right?”

I continued to stare in disbelief, “Honestly, I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Daryl scoffs down at me taking the cigarette between his index and middle finger. “It was jus’ a question. Sheesh.”

“An invasive one,” I tsk. I continue on walking as if the conversation hadn’t happened, Daryl staggered behind.

“Why d’you hav’ to be so damn mean?” Daryl hisses, “It was jus’ a question.”

My eye twitches. The fuck? I spin around and stomp towards him, my finger already raised in his direction. “Every time you ask me something, it’s extremely personal and sensitive! We’re not even close, barely even friends; just coworkers by happenstance! Why do you even think you have the right to ask me shit like that?” I huff poking his chest with each emphasis of my tongue.

Daryl’s eyes are wide and his mouth stayed agape and I could tell he was racking his mind for the right answer. “Well…?” I push against his chest, “What is it? What’s the reason?”

“I want to get to know you better,” he blurts out. His eyes squeeze shut in an attempt to disappear. I take a step back, surprised,“What?”

It takes a moment for him to center himself. Another light clashes in the sky and lands in his crystal eyes when he opens them again. “I…want to get to know you better.”

“Don’t you dislike me?”

Daryl vigorously shakes his head. “No…I jus’ don’ know how to talk to ya.”

At this confession I could only laugh. He huffs. “What’s so funny?” I smile at him, “We’re speaking right now, silly.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles against his cigarette, “After you yelled at me.” I shrug. “Blame yourself. That was the absolute worst way to start off a conversation.” Daryl scratches the back of his head, nodding. “Okay, then how should I start a conversation?”

I think for a moment. “How about you ask how my day was?” He grins, “How was your day Cerise?” I playfully roll my eyes, “It was terrible. Don’t even ask.”

He blinks, dazed. “But you—“ I only laugh as I began to walk away. But with his long strides he caught up to me in no time.

We walked in comfortable silence after that. The loud pitter patter of the rain against our umbrellas sweet background noise. “Hey, Cerise?”

“Yes Daryl.”

“Do you have any chocolate?” I laugh as I reach into my bag to hand him some. “You’re gonna smell like chocolate and tobacco. My favorite combination.”

[james-stark-the-writer]

alright, now that i've finally done the homework of the 4 90s-Batman movies, let's actually pick back up with the DCEU watch and get seated for Andy Muschietti's The Flash.

what i know about this is that it brings back Michael Keaton, that Christina Hodson wrote it (which is the only reason i'm even mildly excited to see this movie, because she also wrote the best DC movie which has a practically perfect screenplay), that there was some bullshit face transplant of dead people — i think one of them was Christopher Reeves, i am not watching those Superman movies for this (haven't seen any of them, might watch them after i'm done with the DCEU), i don't even have access to them, i'm not doing that shit for a cameo anyway, and fuck DC for that, obviously, but i'm going to try to give the movie the best shot i can.

i've heard mixed things about this one as well, i know a few people who really liked it, and a lot of people who really fucking hated it, it's been called every fucking insult i can think of, so i'm not optimistic but Christina Hodson wrote it so it can't be terribly written at least. it may look like shit (from the two clips i've seen: microwave baby, and the shot of Flash and Supergirl zooming into frame, oh that's another thing i know, new Supergirl is in this) but at least hopefully it's well written. and he cannot have fucked up Christina's script that bad.

i'm just hoping that if this is bad, it's at least fun. and that it's not soul-crushing like The Rise of Shitwalker. i know the people at Disney are fucked up, i also know the people at WB are even more depraved somehow, if their track record in these last 4 years haven't shown you that already, but i hope this is as free from their shitty tendencies as possible. i can't do another TROS.

also, have to do the disclaimer: fuck Ezra Miller, i hope their victims get the justice they deserve. don't fucking misgender Ezra, they won't fucking care because they are a celebrity, other non-binary people like myself will. if you say you're an ally and your allyship is conditional, you are just a fucking bigot too <3

for the purposes of this watch we're gonna try to pretend Ezra aren't who they are, bc otherwise i'm gonna be here all night and it's already almost 1 am and this movie is 2 and a half hours long.

ANYWAY, let's get into the fucking movie already.

[bobbin-buckley]

Stained Glass

(Pt2 of Broken Glass)

Cairo Sweet x Broken!Fem!Reader

Summary: After two years of a break up, an unexpected accident happens…but it brings you home

Warnings: Car Accident, severe wounds, lung cancer mentioned, angst turns to fluff, death mentions, surgery mentioned

Y/l/n: Your last name

Y/e/c: Your eye color

~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been two years since your break up with Cairo. You’re off to college now. And you haven’t seen Cairo since the ball party, well rather have you not seen much of anything.

You were in an accident. An accident a year after your break up, which magically happened to be on the day you’d have your anniversary with Cairo. If you never broke up.

You’ve been healing quite well, just major surgery had to happen. Your left eye was completely damaged when the car wreck happened, glass struck in your eye so now you are blind in your left.

Cairo never was told about your incident. Even though you went to the same college, you were doing it from home. Since you didn’t really have the money to afford a dorm. So you’ve just stayed in your parents basement suffering while doing homework, leaving for work or classes and going upstairs only for food. (Since you also have a bathroom)

Life was shitty now, at least you managed to get into college. Soccer wasn’t going well, even though you’re pretty much recovered minus your eye which was the minor problem.

Today you were heading for your first class of the day, which was nursing. You we’re gonna be a nurse, since it was the only career you knew would be useful and your parents think is best. And you never want to argue with them.

This forced choice in your life makes your life even more shitty. With having strict parents doesn’t help with your mental health. You just wanted a good life with Cairo in it, but she pushed you away and now you live in a cold basement and only come out for important things.

Your soccer career hasn’t been going well either. Minus your injuries you just don’t have motivation.

Besides your shitty life, heading off to nursing class. As far as you know you don’t have anymore friends, you lost them all after going into this depression and car accident. For whatever reason they didn’t want to hangout with you, bunch of assholes.

Walking on campus was your favorite though. Tennessee’s college campus was gorgeous. The orange buildings made the autumn trees lighten up, it was perfect for the fall year.

Your favorite band was playing in your ears, headphones over the bandage that hid your deceased eye. Ever since you started college, meeting your classmates and professors. They look at you different from what people had looked at you from before, you feel like a monster.

Some ask to see your eye, others make comments behind your back. It’s painful. You almost just want to slit your own throat every time someone looks at you weird. Humans are evil people now a days.

Just now as you walk inside the nursing building. Some people gave you that stink eye as they walked past you. Fuck society.

Even as class started everyone kept looking at you, whispering things to one another. Wouldn’t you think at this age everyone would stop being so judgmental?

Apparently not. Some boys are still maturing since the seventh grade. Some girls just like to be mean because they can.

But for whatever reason todays class just seemed worse. Other students were looking at you even weirder, like you just murdered someone. The professor wasn’t even looking at you, she was just giving the lesson and writing stuff in the board.

Was it your clothes? You smell? Acne? Your eye still even though it was covered? Maybe your eye bags that look bigger than your eye itself?

No, no it couldn’t be

You looked down at your paper notes, blood was dripping on them. Maybe just a bloody nose right? From stress?

Your hand reached up to make sure it was your nose, but it wasn’t. Now your heart was beating faster, you reached up to touch your left eye, where it’s covered. The bandage was wet as you touched it, looking at your hand it was bloody.

“Fuck!” You cried out, and some students looked at you in shock. Now the professor noticed, she immediately went over to you and that made you move.

“N-no! Stay back!” You yelled, and the professor listened. You wanted to cry, scream, tear out your lungs, maybe even jump out the window. Then no one could see your ugly eye.

You took off to the bathrooms. Ignoring some of the gasps or even laughs that echoed in your ears, you could hear the professor shush the class but you didn’t pay any mind to them.

Why is this happening? Why are you bleeding? Didn’t the doctors say it shouldn’t anymore?

Crashing into the bathrooms. You looked in the mirror even though you didn’t even want to. Your eye was definitely bleeding again, oddly that it barely hurt. The bandage was drenched in the red ink.

You sobbed, now the tears ran as your eye stung. You unwrapped the bandage, after grabbing several paper towels to hold up to your eye.

It hurt, it hurt really bad now. You couldn’t stop crying from the pain, which increased it.

“Holy shit.” You whipped your head to the female voice. It was a student from one of your class, her eyes were wide. She’s obviously never seen someone with a bleeding eye. I mean, who has? It’s not normal.

“Are you okay?” She asked after a minute of silence. She approached you, examining you. You couldn’t tell if it was a judgmental look or a genuine worries look.

“N-no..I’m not.” You sigh, the bleeding was slowly stopping…but boy did you not feel good.

The girl got close enough to fully see the bleeding eye that was covered in bloody paper towels. “Let me see it…” She didn’t even ask. “Uh..You don’t want to-” “But I do.” She cut you off.

You sighed, knowing you couldn’t fight her. And if she wanted to see it? Fine! It’s not like you haven’t scared a billion other people with it. You removed the paper towel, your eye looking fresh again. Fresh skin and blood, it hurt so bad.

“Oh god,” the girl said. You knew it wasn’t pretty, it was awful to look at. “You need a doctor or something..that’s pretty bad.” You nodded, looking back into the mirror. The injured eye was still there, you’re just blind in that eye. “Let’s get you to the hospital,” she took your hand without even letting you reply, but you new it was for the best anyways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hated hospitals. Even more now that you were in a car crash and had but put in surgery, knowing apart of you was open when you were sleeping. It makes your skin crawl.

Sadly the doctors had said your eye must be removed. Due to constant bleeding and dead tissue. Fuck, could this get any worse? Hey, why don’t you take both of my eyes while your at it! You thought.

“How long will the surgery be for?” You asked, staring at the several surgical professionals. “One to maybe two hours. It depends on how bad the damage is.” A female doctor answered authentically.

Get ready to sleep for almost two hours

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Timeskip bc lack of motivation

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cairo was walking the side walk of campus, making her way to the greenhouse the college owned. Cairo had always loved plants, any green one specifically. Green was just her favorite, specifically forest green.

Her favorite thing ever was to write her stories while sitting in the greenhouse. So that was what she planned to do at the moment, it was quiet and on campus so whenever she had her next class she was already there. It was perfect!

Cairo had an earbud in, listening to a song by Gin Blossoms. She happened to walk by a group of students talking about something, she wouldn’t pay any mind only if she didn’t hear your name.

“Yeah, Y/n Y/l/n ran into the bathroom with a bloody face. No one knows why, but someone said she got in a car wreck a few months back.” A male student said, looking in the direction of his friends. “Oh my god.” “Jesus.” A few said. “Some girl helped her to the hospital yesterday. I think she’s still there.”

Cairo was shocked. You went to the same college she does? How in the hell did she not know that? Or ever see you? She assumed you moved states because of her. And you got in a car wreck?! So much was flooding her brain she stopped walking and forgot to move.

But wait, you were still at the hospital. She could see you. But would you want that?

Would it be rude to just walk in and say hi as if you’re still together or friends?

All these thoughts made her feel upset and nauseous. But she had to see you, she needed to. Even if you were to push her away this time, she at least needed to know if you were okay.

“Which hospital?” Cairo asked the group, making them turn and look at her suspicious. “Uh..(street name),” one answered. “Okay, thank you.” She the started to run off to that hospital, totally forgetting about her upcoming class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a bit of a run, but she managed to get there under ten minutes. She wasn’t sure how she was going to explain to you when she sees you. Nor how she’ll even greet you.

Approaching the hospital doors, she walked past them as they slid open. Cairo jogged up to the Receptionist’s desk. “Name?” The woman said, noticing Cairo’s hurry. “Uhm..Y/n..Y/n Y/l/n. I need to see her.” Cairo spoke out of breath. “Relation, dear?” “Uhh..”

Ex girlfriend? Traitor? Long lost friend?

“Cousin.” Cairo wanted to slap herself.

Really? Cousin? Even you would glare at her for that one.

“Alright, well. She’s in room 204.” Once she got the room number she didn’t hesitate to start running to the elevator. She was so lost in her mind she didn’t even care that the woman had yelled at her for running and to slow down.

Cairo raced to the elevator, pressing the button and her legs bounced impatiently. Once it opened she slipped inside and press the two button. The elevator music didn’t add anything less to her stress, it just increased it.

The doors slid open and she dashed through them, this time speed walking to the room so she knows which way to go.

201, 202, 203

204

She slowed down, opening the door slowly.

There you were.

Alive. Awake. Healthy? Maybe but Alive!

You turned your head from the doctor that was in there talking to you. Shocked, your one eye opened widely. Seeing the person you once cared for before your glass heart shattered. Maybe you still care about

“Cairo?” Hearing you say her name made her start to cry. Tears falling down her freckled cheeks. The doctor got up and left, not really wanting to be involved. It was your eye. Your eye was injured. Fuck.

“I-I..” Cairo sobbed, she didn’t know what to say. You stared at her in disbelief..but also you had a feeling in your chest. Your heart thumping.

She’s still as beautiful as before. Just in tears.

“Cairo…” you said again, even sadder.

“Y/n.” She replied with, her voice as sad as yours. She approached your bedside, and surprisingly you let her.

Cairo could see how your left eye was bandages up, some blood but nonetheless clean. “I’m so sorry..” she cried, “I didn’t know..I didn’t know until today. I-I didn’t even know you were still here.” She cried, wanting to be nowhere else than your arms.

“My parents fell broke. I stay in their basement, that’s probably why you didn’t know.” You said softly, seeing how she examined your face in horror.

“How bad is it? I only overheard what happened but..no details.” You scoff, of course rumors got spread. Probably thanks to that girl that had to use the bathroom at the time you were bleeding.

You sighed, looking up at her again to reply; “they had to get a removal.” You assumed she already knew about the eye, wether she was told or not. Just by sight.

Cairo gasped, her hands covering her mouth. She didn’t want to cry more than she already was. “I have no left eye.” You confirmed. She didn’t know what to say, still shocked and sorry for it all.

Even though you had another eye. How was she supposed to look into those angelic y/e/c eyes. Yeah she could look into your right, but it wouldn’t be the same.

She pulled you into an unexpected hug, mindful of the healing..well…socket. “I don’t know what to say. I’m..I’m sorry for everything, I’m sorry I pushed you away. I didn’t mean to, I was just so upset and stressed.”

Her mom sadly had passed a few months because of lung cancer, after your breakup. She lost herself then, going into a tight depression. Even worse now she left you.

“I understand Cairo.” Those words hit her like a bus back. She didn’t think you’d forgive so easily. Let alone understand. “I’m sorry too.”

She huffed you tighter, feeling your heart beat against hers. “I heard about your mom, I’m so so sorry. I wish things were better. But..I think we can fix that.” Cairo pulled away to look at you.

“How? I already broke both of our hearts.” She sniffed, “how can I put back the pieces if I’m the one who shattered them?”

She had a point, she hurt you badly. But for a good reason.

“I know. But sometimes you’ve got to put those pieces back together..when you know that person who broke them is hurting their own.”

Tears swelled up again. Fuck she still loved you.

She still needs you, she wants you. She craves you back and your touch. She misses watching you kick a ball around on a sweaty field for hours, hearing you laugh as your Y/e/c eyes shimmer in the sun or moonlight. She misses you. Without even knowing it.

She looked into your eye, smiling wide as you tugged her into a kiss. Those soft lips against yours felt right again.

Sometimes broken hearts are put back together with the person who broke them. If they are hurting, themselves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christ. I took longer than I should have, it also felt rushed at the end. But hopefully it’s good since I’m lazy to spell check at the moment

So let me know if I messed up 😭

[fallenfawnn]

Do you have BPD or have you been tested for it? Your symptoms match it.

everyone in my asks is a therapist today lol

sorry that isn’t really directly at you because you asked pretty directly and respectfully but like.. it’s just been a thing today.

anyways. i actually kind of answered this last week but to summarize.. no, i haven’t been tested. yes, i know i likely meet the diagnostic criteria and heavily relate to the lived experiences of others with BPD. i also am aware of the complexities and overlaps with other things like CPTSD, autism, dissociative disorders, etc.

[suits-of-woe]

is anyone going to talk about the blatant antonio/bassanio/portia parallels in the andrei/goncharov/katya dynamic and how scorsese literally said in interviews that he wanted certain scenes to have a shakespearean feel to them or do i have to write the meta myself

[ranvwoop]

i need to expel the silly guys in my brain . but i forgot how to draw and writing is hard... much to think about

[unproduciblesmackdown]

remembered that the other day i was thinking about how like, "jared & alana kind of re/connecting more in college / becoming friends then" ideas sure have a potential complication in "do they talk about tcp ever lol. jared has this secret here" where like yeah maybe the answer is "no not really," at this point post orchard it can be kind of in the past / in stasis, like maybe alana keeps the site up & all but for one thing, well, she's busy with college at the moment & maybe even other things (so many possibilities about what college looks like for alana or jared or whomever. just like in life) and also from her perspective like well jared wasn't ever That involved anyways, even if you harmonized together for two measures in a song like of course alana was focused on evan as the other co president co True Believer / Understander about the ethos of the project anyways, vs that it was fine to have jared in the background possibly, doing tech support. and she could just suppose that, even if she does suspect something Was up about everything, that maybe it's not like jared knew about that or was involved

but anyways i was like "well fuck it, what if she did also suspect jared could've known anything was up about the supposed factual premises around here. and she was mostly fine with that" (which i mean. could be true anyways. alana could sure likewise just have complicated feelings, about things beyond The Absolute Facts Of The Case, as is relevant the entire time re: anyone else. even if yeah it would also bother her. she has her own path right there to sympathizing more easily anyways in like, yeah she Was his lab partner, the facts may not be that moving, but it was still meaningful enough to her as a connection / Theoretical connection like 'well we Could've been friends?' / alana sympathizing with someone Now Never Having The Chance To Know Connor which is also evan's status or anyone else's anyways)

so further anyways i was also just thinking how like, well, there's complications in "jared can't tell the full story b/c a) he & evan are keeping this secret for themselves And each other, just unspoken across time & space & perhaps forever thusly. nbd & b) he can't tell the Full Story to anyone else anyways. goodforyou.mp3....though, see: the Handshake Gay potential element to college alana & jared friendship lol. don't need to give granular details about Realizing Things / Fun Facts of disastrous [all very heterosexual] relationship histories" but also maybe even if he is willing to give any very general acknowledgment to "Was something up with all that, do you think, do you know" type inquiries, it was like well but what if that's actually somewhat / enough of a relief to alana to get further confirmation that yeah there were some extra reasons things fell apart a bit there. Because like, otherwise, from her perspective it's like she was helming this surely noble helpful project with mostly this one other person who then stopped caring or at least responding in the same ways, and then that happened more generally with alana being mostly solo running things and then those things going to shit. where maybe having a hint that yeah, there was some other weird complications going on like problems as fundamental as [this story wasn't quite factually true was it] can be, to her, like nonzero reassurance that She Herself wasn't thee factor who like managed to be on a different page than everyone else after all & also just ruin things in whatever way b/c it was all going great until it sure wasn't

[wookgerine]

Love that they take Bella with the gym with them all the time

[katierosefun]

[wakes up in a cold sweat] i have got to watch treasure planet

[dirt-str1der]

Love the thought of kiryu losing nishikiyamas lighter fucking instantly after he gave it to him. Like he leaves it in the car and nishiki is nice enough to re-gift it to him when they meet up again and then two weeks after that whole fiasco kiryu loses it again and nishiki just buys him those cheap packs of like fifty plastic lighters because this is why they cant have nice things and he hates (loves) him so much

[monty-glasses-roxy]

You know what actually? Meteors AU. A night school opening nearby for people like Roxy and she's so looking forward to experiencing a form of school for the first time and Cassie just.

"Are you sure you want to go to school? Like... Absolutely sure? Okay but. Why."

[fluorescentsnails]

(me, doing basic chores) omg bella swan simulator!!!!!!!!!!!!