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gwndolnfrankln · 2 years

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your beauty never ever scared me - eddie munson x reader

part ii of i'm not in love

🎧.˳⁺⁎ summary: unfortunately, you and eddie haven't been talking for months since the incident, but lately fate has other plans when he went missing the morning after you saw him.

⋆ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

⋆ warning: 18+ mdni, exes to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, angst, slight swearing, slow burn, a lot of yearning, make-up sex, p in v, grinding, half-assed dialogue, miss author loves to describe her surroundings a little too much

⋆ wc: 7005

⋆ a/n: thank you sm for reading my first eddie fic! i truly appreciate the support from the previous one, and as promised, here's part 2 ♡ my writing may got a little rusty since i got busy, but i hope you'll enjoy it as much as i had fun writing it :> (taglist still a work in progress)

“We’re in the Forest Hills trailer park in east Roane County. We don’t have a lot of details as of now, but we can confirm that the body of a Hawkins High student was discovered early this morning. Police have not released the name although we are told they’re currently in the process of notifying the family.”

With a mustard-yellow envelope in hand, your local school’s name blared from the compact tv, which surprises you from the latest. The flickering lights of the old printing shop made the place seem like a sullen hospital hallway, other than the presence of sunlight creeping in through the screen entrance doors. The news was always on from the small television set, stationed far high up against the gray striped walls. You've become a frequent visitor to the shop—befriending other photographers and travelers who needed physical prints from their out-of-the-country expeditions. It’s a welcoming shop despite other unpleasant aspects, but once the news is on, everyone gathers to listen in.

“We also don’t know yet if foul play was involved. But whatever has occurred here is sure to touch a nerve across Hawkins.”

“Must’ve been Munson's kid for sure." You snap your head back at the owner, who's busy stamping piles of business papers behind the counter. You plop your coin purse down on the wooden surface, separating silver coins from the bronzes. “How much?” The disgruntled tone in your voice receives a snark, which slows him down from important paperwork to check the number of coins you brought out so far.

“Hey, aren’t you a senior from that school? Then you might've seen Eddie from Forest Hills. Y’know, the one on the news.” Your ears flare up in heat at the careless assumption. Warmth boils into the hearth of your stomach when you slam your camera bag on the counter, making other customers perk up at the sudden aggression. “How much of your bickering do I have to take before you let me pay for my photos, Mr. Owens? If you need my opinion about Munson’s kid, then so be it. I’ll tell you one thing.”

Oh, where to start? At the top of your head, you could only remember the little things. The small intricate details of his chaotic, yet wildly interesting canvas; all splashed in his favorable paints of red and black. Eddie used to draw on you under oak trees. Instead of carving his initials onto the barks of a tree, he would rather write his name messily on your forearm.

The tingling sensation was vividly unforgettable from the marker’s tips, to his gentle fingers guiding your skin to mark you his special spot. You have the keys to his sacred collection of metal-rock records, which he doesn't mind; sometimes, he'd stick pink post-it notes onto your favorite Ozzy albums to play the tunes extensively before you bother to knock on his bedroom door.

The same Munson kid who'd read you lore books in his bed, all cuddled up beside you with his curls tangled up around your shoulders. His showcased dimples, his hoarse morning voice, and the soft kisses between your laughs. You applied for the first four shifts on Scoops to secretly buy him a camera for his new club poster, which you've quit after you saved up enough money to purchase a standard model at Starcourt. You kept the package stashed inside your closet, waiting for the day to witness the gleeness on Eddie’s face when it’s finally his.

From the ground up, the soles of your feet weigh heavier on your legs as the shop’s customers wait for an outburst, yet guilt turns down the anguish too quickly.

Before Mr. Owens opens his mouth, you set down a random assortment of coins then storm out past the door’s angelic chimes, getting lighter on your feet as you lead yourself far away from the shop. As you unclasp the parking chains of your bike, the photographs fall out of the half-open envelope, letting most of the photos scatter clumsily on the rough gravel. You curse under your breath when you tie the stack around an elastic band, but paused when Eddie’s photograph faced you on top of the others; the monochromes perfectly forming a certain clarity to his Hellfire shirt and the curls on top of his hair. As much as you want to study his face, you instinctively press the picture down the side pockets of your jeans, then carefully place the envelope inside the bike basket before you take off on the long winding road.

The pedals of your metallic bike screech on the rocky pavements, the pitch hurting your ears as you set your foot down on the road to halt the tires. The quietness of the streets doesn’t feel right to you. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you want to stop by the movie store to listen to Steve bicker for hours rather than the news at home. Before Starcourt mall was destroyed out-of-the-blue, you used to work shifts with them at Scoops, fondly reminiscing the times when you ate left-over ice cream with Erica between breaks, witnessing Steve’s flirtatious customer services with Robin, and the ridiculous navy blue sailor uniforms you have to wear for work. You stop in your tracks when you catch sight of the familiar colored bikes parked in front of the family video store. You perk your head up towards the glass-paneled windows to see your previous co-workers, alongside Dustin and Max busily typing on a computer.

“I never said that!”

“Seriously, you guys, maybe on a Monday you can play around, but it’s Saturday. It’s our busiest day. Oh hey, Y/N.” The bells of the entrance door jingle behind you as you lean on the counter, helping Robin arrange a variety of sci-fi VHS tapes. “Robin, I empathize but this cannot wait.” Max nods towards you while Dustin mindlessly scribbles on his cork board. “Aren't you supposed to be at school right now?” A teasing smirk forms at the corners of your lips as Steve frowns disappointedly at the intrusion.

From the counter's bottom shelves, Robin places a laminated sign on the registrar beside you, muttering a small thank you when you finish setting up the tapes. “Calling Eddie’s friends is an emergency?”

Unease seeps into the air you breathe, taking whatever little strength you have from the printing shop into nothing. Every fragment of the case reminds you of the life you used to know—the shot of his trailer park on the tv, the association of the Munson name, and now what seems like an Eddie investigation case instigated by Dustin. Was it all just a coincidence? A really, really bad one?

“Can you fill them in while I do this?” Now it was Dustin’s turn to peak frustration, facing Max as she shifted her gaze to the three of you, waiting for a thorough explanation. “Fill us in on what?” Out of instinct, the knuckles of your fist pop with your clenches; your heart palpitates aggressively inside your chest. “Please, Max.” You whisper worryingly, completely frozen in your spot.

Keyboards clackle through the overbearing silence as Max recounted yellow police tapes, Chrissy Cunningham, and Eddie Munson himself, who fled from the scene this morning. Dustin asks the four of you to look into his close contacts and call every name on the list. A few minutes later, you manage to write their names on the back of crumpled receipt scraps, then dial their numbers on one of their work telephones—most of them unavailable.

Hesitancy hinders you from saying his name on the first phone call. Hearing yourself say it for the first time curls the tiny hairs on your skin. But one phone call after another, your internal fears creep away from your genuine words; the callers asked in some instances if you’re a close friend of his rather than a sick prank call, which is a definite plus. “Hey, guys, I might have a lead.” Everyone turns back on their seats, lending their ears to hear what Max has to say. “Apparently, Eddie gets drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick, and sometimes Eddie crashes there.”

After an interesting argument between the two friendly gentlemen, Robin was able to find Reefer's account when she checked the computer systems to track down the infamous drug dealer. “That’s out by Lover’s Lake.” The satisfaction on everyone’s faces was a feat in itself; a drizzle of hope. The tightness inside your chest eases momentously, yet bits of dread pinch you still as a board. “It’s a perfect place to hide.” Robin stood from her seat and went to look for her keys, while Dustin and Max walked around the counter to grab their bags. When the last customer exited the store, Steve and Robin made some last-minute shelving checks before each and every one of you took off to Reefer Rick’s house accompanied in Steve’s car.

The mast of darkness enveloped your line of sight except for their flashlights, slashing the dusty particles in the air. Frayed leaves crunch under the soles of your sneakers, while you tower behind Robin, who was busy checking behind the foggy windows of the house. You left them to examine the rustling sounds behind the bushes, until your eyes caught sight of the shack near the lake, seemingly abandoned in its rusty state.

“Hey, guys?” Max’s light blinded your eyes as you turned around, the other three walking towards you. The shy winds cradled your skin, seeping through the thin fabrics of your flannel when your figures neared the shack.

Everything about this place felt like it was pulled out of a camp horror movie, or maybe you were just too scared of the dark. “Hello? Is anyone home?” Her voice permeated the large empty space as she walked in, mostly filled with boat equipment and carpentry tools. You observed with great caution, careful not to touch anything in the oily containers. “What are you doing?” Dustin reprimanded when Steve stabbed a random tarp with his oar, the sound of scratched plastic almost caught you off-guard. “He might be in here.” Steve kept on jostling the rowing stick onto the blue tarp, and you swear you could've taken that thing from his hands right now.

“Don’t worry. Steve will get him with his oar.”

“I know you think you’re being funny, Henderson. But considering almost everyone has nearly died a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slightest–” In a flash, metal chains clanged the ceiling’s grasp as you stood back, accidentally tripping on a bucket of half-lidded paints, staining your clothes in the process. Quick, heavy footsteps thumped loudly on the wood while Robin wrapped her arms around you, helping you get up from the red puddle beneath you.

You sway unsteadily in her arms; utter shock loomed over your bare features as familiar patches caught your line of sight. A terrible sound reverberated through the steels of the shack when Steve's back was slammed hard against the wall, his chin cornered with a shard. “Woah, woah, woah, Eddie! Eddie! Stop!” Dustin’s shouts hindered the attack. Steve was squirming under his hold, ready to defend himself at any given moment. “It’s me. It’s Dustin. This is Steve. He’s not gonna hurt you, right, Steve?” Eddie casted Steve a murderous look while he nodded. “Steve, why don’t you drop the oar?” Steve groaned when Eddie clenched his fists on the shirt material, the oar clattering loudly to the ground.

“What are you doing here?” The tremble on his final word heightened your drawing sadness, the firmness in his voice faltering slowly. “We’re here to help.” Robin spoke up beside you, which made Eddie turn around. Despite the growing panic that crossed the room, his brown eyes managed to find yours in a magnetic instant, his gaze troubled and confused. “Eddie, these are my friends. You know Robin from band.” Robin awkwardly imitated her trumpet-playing just to get the picture of what she does on the bench. “This is my friend Max. The one who never wants to play D&D.” Max quickly waved with her flashlight in hand; worrying looks streaked her face as she watched Steve struggle under Eddie’s grasp. The short introductions seemed to fly past him, his unreadable stares lingered on your skin like a cord. “And Y/N, our school’s photographer. She was with us the other night."

"Eddie, we’re on your side. I swear on my mother! Right, guys?” All heads nodded in unison, including Steve’s, who was still held at a critical point. The suspenseful seconds washed away when Eddie finally let go of Steve, then slowly walked towards the other side of the room to lean against the wall, shaken and terrified. The messy tangles of his hair, the unkemptness of his clothes, and traces of his fear weakened you to the bone. Such grief binded you to him, an unspoken mutuality that you cannot explain for the simplest of causes. The same laid-out causes you’re afraid to face; the same old half-spoken truths that wreaked havoc on your miserable fates. Unfortunately, the deepest cuts are still there, distantly shared in all its glory, bleeding for all the times you’ve spent apart.

“We just want to know what happened.”

“You won’t believe me.” Eddie’s sniffles broke down while everyone gathered around him, careful not to get inside his personal bubble. Your shoes screeched on the pattern of paints you left behind as you stood closely, sharing this newfound silence.

“Try us.”

The winds howled at the heavy curtains flinging past the white edges of the shack’s small windows. Everything you knew about the town, the world, changed at a shocking note. The horrors of the recounted scene paralyzed him; Chrissy’s death now a daunting reminder of his cowardice. All you could do was nod and listen, clinging onto every word.

You both shared a look while he described the grotesque encounter, hoping that he’d get the comforting message through the lenses of your eyes. “I…I didn’t know what to do, so I…I ran away. I left her there.” You shifted your gaze, not knowing what to make of this. There was a certain willingness in you, a plea to switch places with him, take his pain as your own. The sight of his aching guilt unfurled your inner clenches, fist deep into the ugly remainders of the past. You kept to yourself for the whole evening while Dustin explained the ultimatum of their situation, which surprisingly wasn’t the first time it has ever happened to them. You and Eddie were the only ones who didn’t know much of it, unaware of the interdimensional beings that roamed somewhere in their world.

“Someone should stay with Eddie. Guard the place till morning.” Robin groaned at the suggestion, who abruptly stopped before the exit way. Arms crossed and a few meters away, Steve sent you a knowing look, a signal you've familiarized yourself with since you knew him.

You and Steve have very similar childhoods: neglected, half-spoilt, parents on business trips and a home mostly occupied for rowdy parties and formal gatherings. That’s a look of a guy who wanted you to stay; a friend who used to be so jealous of your precious freedom, now taking it as his perfect advantage. “I have plans for tonight, Henderson. And Robin has curfew, which leaves…” This was not the first time you wanted to punch him. Steve is an achiever with his wrong timings. But they didn’t know. Still, it’s a bad idea. You couldn’t imagine yourself staying the night with Eddie in Reefer Rick’s house, after everything he’s been through. He loathes you, and he definitely should. You want him to hate you, so you could stop—

“Fine, I’ll stay. You guys better be careful, okay?” All your personal deflections sinked down miraculously, reminding yourself that not everything revolves around your own thoughts, and maybe, just maybe, this could be a decent step forward. To what, you don’t know yet. After a few pats on the back and a couple of goodnights’, you walked back to the quiet shack with your head hung low, so low that someone could mistake you for a Christmas candy cane. The door creaked scarily as you pushed it open, your careful eyes darting to Eddie’s figure, who was tucked under the uncomfortable tarp, lying down sideways on the boat. His eyes were puffy red, his cheeks clearly dried up from the tears. You cautiously placed your duffel bag on the nearest makeshift table, putting aside the crumpled-up cans and sneaker bars on its tethering edges.

“Did you forget something?” You turned around to see Eddie sitting on the edge of the boat, slurping his new can of beer. His fixated stare had a clutch on you, your guarded front crumbling to cements. “No. I’m staying over.” You swear you could hear him gulp loudly, then to make matters worse, choked and coughed on his drink. The colors of his face turned beet-red when he placed his can on another indescribable pile. He clapped his knees when he stood up from the edge, and slowly made his way towards you, eyeing the red stains on your shirt. “It gets really cold past windy hours. We should head back to the house.”

You’ve never been inside Reefer Rick’s home before, but it seems like Eddie knew the place so well as much as his own. As soon as you walked inside, the constriction of your arms mellowed with the homely warmth, despite the history of the house. A loud thumping sound from the other room pulled you out of your thoughts, making you run towards the source. “Shit, shit, shit.” Eddie hopped on one foot while he placed the right amount of pressure on the other one to numb the pain, whispering more curses under his breath once he felt your presence kneeling close to him.

"This is a nightmare." Eddie winced at the searing pain from his foot, closing his eyes as you untangled his shoelaces to loosen the tightness of their rubber straps. He's terribly overwhelmed—intoxicated from the number of beers he had drank; adding to that Dustin's greatest revelation ever known to mankind. Your fingers slightly brushed his freezing knuckles once you took his shoe off, wiggling it easily off to the side.

"Why are you helping me?" His voice sighed through his curtain of dark curls, the air from his direct lips punctuating all your senses at once. You glanced up at him with your mouth slightly apart, taking in his daring brown eyes, the faded rashes from his cheeks and every delicate crease lining his rough features.

"Because you're hurt." You bit your tongue before you could say any more. Eddie slouched in his position; his shoulders stooped smaller than an inch as he reached for his toes. “I’m fine now. Thanks.” It took him a few seconds to stand, struggling to bend his heel. “Wait, let me just.” Your hand managed to wrap itself around his leather sleeves to firmly guide his balance. With no other choice, he accepted your offer and was finally able to hold his ground. In a fleeting moment, you noticed Eddie glancing at your fingers for a bit longer than usual, until he willfully pulled it back to his side.

“I…you should…there are clothes upstairs. You better change.” Before you could answer him, he swiftly maneuvered to the other side of the house, leaving with multiple questions running through your mind all at once. You don’t know how to feel. In some parts, you feel angry for deceiving him with your cut-off reasons. Other times, his closeness has washed you anew, despite how miniscule or scarce it's been shown.

The stairs creaked under your feet as you stomped on the steps, tiptoeing around unlaundered socks clinging on the corners of the stairwell. You made sure to close the windows and shut the drapes before you change in one of the unsettled rooms. The chilly air tickled your skin, the coolness rubbing onto you like smooth fragrant soap.

You took off your shirt and noticed that the paint solidified itself onto the fabric; the dampness no longer felt. As you rubbed off the flakes with your thumb, your bare arms tingle and flush at a certain presence in the room, making you look.

Your bra tightly wrapped itself around your plumper regions, flustering on his watchful gaze. You never thought it possible that the swelling heat would graze itself with the coldness of your shoulders; an arson of confliction and raging want. Your body screams for his length, his space, his missing piece; an incomplete puzzle you gracefully memorized by heart.

He couldn’t move in his place, paralyzed in a Medusa-like trance, carefully taking in the laces of your bra straps, the wisps of hair tickling the nape of your neck, and the slow heaving motions of your chest. Your numb fingers accidentally dropped the shirt on the floor, which made you pick it up; the denims of your waist tightened around the archness of your back. Unbeknownst to you, Eddie can’t stop looking at the pads of your bra, perfectly cupping your breasts like a housewarming basket. You coughed once you finally retrieved the fallen fabric from the floor, then hurriedly put on the blue button down from the bed as Eddie returned normally.

The silver rims of his watch glistened as he placed a stack of folded blankets on the edge of the mattress, whiffing the strands of hair out of his face. The doe outlines of his eyes waited for you to finish buttoning up, before he could start hearing himself. “I’ll be sleeping in the room next to yours. If you need anything, just…” You felt the creases of your cuffs bend as his gaze traveled down the plumpness of your lips to the shining flecks in your eyes. “Knock."

His adam's apple bobbed through the skin of his throat while he played with one of his rings, then glanced at you for a slither of a moment, before he turned his back on you to leave. The door was slightly ajar when he left, spiking your fallible tendency to take it as a secret hint; a hidden letter on a scrabble. You sighed as you pulled the blankets over your head, concealing whatever door your delusions barged into.

Even when you’re covered in the most comforting of quilts that any man in the cold could have asked for, it can’t shield you from the fact that you don’t want him to be alone. Your sides longed for its match, an exerting piece, willing to complete you like a sacred locket. It pains you to see him that way, to see him try to be so strong for everyone and seamlessly make sure that you feel comfortable around the house.

As his walls are crumbling down, all you could do was just sit there and watch like a knight who can’t do anything to fight off his dragons. Since the moment you saw him, defeated and ashamed, you want to take him in his arms and hold him until the entanglements of his suffering looped off its clots. It’s not enough that you’re just here. You have to do something, anything to be there for him.

The worthless feeling tossed and turned inside you, churning your organs like whipped dough. Before you know it, your legs brushed the sides of the bed, then you paced out of the room with your blanket in hand. Every step gets heavier and heavier as you near the room, but your insistence didn’t stop you from trying. Your knuckles knocked on the door’s timbres while you tiptoed, your feet getting sweaty from the nerves.

In less than a second, Eddie opens the door, and you rush inside without a word. The moonlight cascaded the lines of your shadows as you stood there, your shoulders raised and your breaths quickened. The feelings you tried to conceal broke from its cages when you turned around to face him, his beautiful brown eyes widening at the tears streaming down your cheeks.

His brows furrowed in contemplation as he watched you curiously, checking the door’s metal knobs then onto you in passive strides.

"I can't sleep."

"What are you doing?"

No one hears the other with the simultaneous blurt-outs, which later proceed through the tunnels of silence. Your voices echoed the room even without the possibility of its reach to do so, with the walls not being high as it is. "I can sleep in the other room if you want."

"That's not what I want." The lump on your throat hinders you from speaking in a normal manner. Mentally, you're holding onto a steady rail with the height of your emotions, but unfortunately it's too difficult for you to even look at him; to be near his presence; to be seen by him. "I'll sleep downstairs, then."

"No, stay." Eddie stops twisting the door knob in his hand, frozen in his spot. His stare was still avoidant, yet the sides of his body were awaiting more of an answer. "You can sleep here. Pretend I'm not even in this room, or any place at all in the house." The flash of hurt in Eddie's eyes made you want to roll your words back at the tip of your tongue and swallow it in the depths of your throat. You hate to admit it—and you swear you'd rather go back in time to change it—but you've implied another thing to what you said.

"Well I'm not sleepy either, so." After a quick glance from his watch, he locks the door and waits for you to go to bed, but you don't. All you can hear is the ticking of the clock, the brushing trees surrounding the lake house, and the tiny cracks beneath your toes. Whatever strength you mustered outside inflated in an instant, melting like the icicles under the summer sun. You don't know how to act around him anymore, or imagine yourself in the same room as him. Eddie knows you so well—too well in fact—that you won't come here uninvited without an important reason. The fate of this unfinished business is up to you now, and how he's going to handle it will be etched into your dreams forever.

“I’m not here to ask for forgiveness. I don’t deserve it.” The lids of his eyes flutter down to his feet when you speak; your voice raspy yet firm in truth. “But I want you to listen to me. I need you to listen, before…you try to run away from me again.” Memories from last summer rolled into the screens of your mind like an old camera reel; every scene heart-wrenching and scarred like a broken mirrorball.

“Please, don’t start.” Eddie tears his eyes away from the floor to look at you, his hurtful expression displayed massively.

"When can you let me? Everyday, I visit your trailer and you're not there. I go to school, I see you and you brush me off like a stranger. Is this really how it's going to be from now on between us? Merely strangers?"

You can feel your crumpled heart curl to see him so stoic; unreachable and tall with his spiky walls of avoidance.

"Okay, fine. Now's your chance. Look, my day hasn't been going well for me lately. And I appreciate your sincerest participation to stay with me today, but please, please, please do not bring that up."

"You barely let me finish five sentences."

"Well I don't want to hear it, okay! I don't need to hear any more, because I know." Eddie clenches his fists, then lets it go shakily to calm himself. What could he have known? He's no mind reader, yet you're finding it hard to shake away the fraying nerves engulfing your entire body. "You don't know. It's not all that simple. No matter how hard I try, it still sounds so stupid." Stupid is just an above-the-surface term to the careless path of thought candy you left behind. You'd rather throw yourself to some pack of hungry wolves than be in the dumbest situation you unknowingly put yourself in.

"No, no, you're right. It's stupid. But you know what's even crazier? I used to believe that there's…more to this. I don't know about your intentions about the whole thing, but I bet it's never similar to mine." His staggering words struck you like arrows in a battlefield, and you can barely dodge every single one of them without a breather. The realization of his hidden insecurities flowed out of his tiny box and into the clutch of your hand; not having an ounce of an idea on whether or not to keep it in your palms or stash it somewhere else.

"Then tell me." You take a step forward as your curious gaze pinned itself onto the brown streaks of his irises. Your footsteps wake his tired features and his shoulders straighten in a jagged line when you stand a few feet away from him. Your shadows mingle with his as the dotted lights of the moonlit sky brighten in all its celestial beauty, wishing that the night will end in much better terms.

"I see the way everyone looks at me, and I know all my precious nicknames to heart. The freak who repeated high school twice, the Kirk Hammett wannabe, that one scary dude who heavily worships the devil. My friends would tease me about you, and it has always been 'poor you dating ugly old me'. And deep inside, I know you're ashamed to be with a guy like me. To be smothered with my ugliness, to be with a loner who plays guitar in the middle of the woods, to be with a guy who couldn't tie his shoelaces properly.” You kept your mouth shut, not knowing what to say. Your quiet reaction kept him going.

“Deep in my bones, I hoped for more than just a summer thing. We agreed for an expiration date, but I didn't…I don't want summer to end for us. Never at all." Time seemed to stop with every pouring word, coated with the ultimate belief that only says one thing: he wants this as much as you do.

“All this time, you've been avoiding me because of what the town thinks of us? Well, to hell with them.” His eyes flickered into yours, carefully releasing his tightened fist to center his attention on you. Focused yet bewildered, he examines the shine of your hair, your slightly quivering lips, and the folds of the blue button-down loosely hugging your waist. Breath against breath, you inhaled through the compacts of your chest, letting your anger flow down into a peaceful stream.

"Look, I was also scared. I'm just…used to being treated invisibly by people I know. I barely see my family for the holidays, my friends don't care about me, and my past relationships weren't entirely the best on the scales of 'healthy'. But with you, everything just tipped over for me." You exhale through your lungs when you finish, but the discontinuity urges you to speak more. Let it all out.

"You see me like no other. You spoil me with your special post-it notes, the small private concerts in your room and your sheets of handwritten lyrics that reminded you of me. The little things..you just..you're perfect. There was never a time when I felt scared of you. You never ever scared me, Eddie. You're too beautiful to even fit the category.”

You’ve never called him beautiful before; never through a spoken word nor from a small written paragraph. The sound ringed and reverberated in the most natural of notions; not from the voices in your head, nor from any intrusive thought, rather from the farthest extent of your feelings. The quiet distance pulled you into him, a vacuum of bodies questioning the unreadable space you immersefully share.

A small tear trickled from the wetness of your lids when you blinked in his touch. His calloused palms cup the wetness of your cheeks, occupying your vision with his blurry thumb. Your fingertips travel the construction of his shirt, caressing the warmth of his linen folds.

In a flicker of a moment, you tilt your head slightly as he gently grazes his fingers to the nape of your neck, his features softened. “You think I'm beautiful?” He whispers thoughtfully, completely enamored with the crinkle of your eyes when you conjure up a pleasing smile. The shadows of his hair envelop your line of sight as you examine his collarbones closely, tugging the fabrics of his shirt bashfully towards you. Your daring eyes locks into his, almost like a secret confirmation, drawing him near you in a ready invitation.

Nothing in the world could ever prepare you beforehand when you feel his lips crash into yours, his plumpness blending your chapness. His dark curls tickle your face when he sinks deeper into your ravenous kiss, gently nibbling on your bottom lip. The momentum was extraordinary, and you missed every rhythm with so much longing. You grin against his toothy smile when he steadily pushes you to the bed, covering your whole waist with his large palms.

“God, I miss this.” He mutters in between kisses as your hands sneak under the hems of his Hellfire shirt, making him shudder blissfully under his breath. He bites onto the side of your neck as a subtle punishment, then licks on the same spot to lessen the ting. Eddie pulls back to marvel at his handiwork designating the base of your neck, showcasing his wonderful set of cheek dimples you love so much. You gently press your thumb around the lobes of his ear, brushing the tangles away from the sides of his face. Your knees graze the hardened fabric between his pant legs, carefully playing with your movements while he grunts against your ups and downs.

He stares at you disappointedly when you stop, but as soon as you straddle on top of him, he grins widely like a child in Charlie's chocolate factory. Your fingers grasp his shoulders as he unzips your jeans in a flourish, then slowly slides his light fingers between the hip of your panties. His hungry lips left your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses down to your gasping collarbones and the line of buttons covering your eagerness. Your nipples tingle as he unbuttons your top then pecks the warm skin underneath your breasts, softly caressing the other with his rough palms.

His teases throw you in a whirlwind of pleasure and havoc, completely ruining your well-moderate facade for the whole evening. Careful not to break his legs, you pull your denims down to your ankles, which he tossed in the corner of the room. With a starving look in his eyes, his hands squeezes your bare thighs, then slowly sneaks his ringed fingers under your panties to clench your ass cheeks. You groan against his ear, thrilling you to bounce on top of him, his length throbbing under your wetness. “Give it to me, Eddie.” Your breath fan warmly against his upper lip while you unbuckle his belt, the coldness of the metal channeling your inner impatient wants. He leans his forehead against yours as he lays you down on the sheets, kissing you passionately on the lips before he hurriedly takes off his garments, the sight intensifying the indescribable heat going through your body.

A flock of butterflies dances inside you when you catch sight of the tattoos stationed on his chest, the light hairs on his forearm and the feel of his rough happy trails against your flabs. The warmth of his cock strokes your half-open folds, his pinkish tip slithering under your sensitive clit. Faded stars cascaded your vision once he finally slid his hardness inside of you, your nails pinning his upper back.

Your legs wrap itself around his waist as he slowly shoves his cock in your tightened grasp, your mind going hazy from the largeness. The pain of the surprise all went away when his fingers intertwined yours, leaving sloven kisses on the crook of your neck down to your shoulder. His head of hair nuzzles the pillow close to your ear as his delicious pattern of slams continues to rise above its peak.

It’s incredible how every push tears you apart in a good way. A shameful gasp left your lips as his thumb flicks your clit in circular motions, while his cock monstrously devours your insides. Beads of sweat trickle down your forehead when your inner thighs stretch at his extensive motions, getting bigger than the next. He raises his head to look at you, grinning from ear to ear, happily taking in the pleasurable strokes on your face.

“Cum with me, okay?” In between breaths, he gently places his calloused palm on your cheek, his hips quickening against the crinkled sheets. You stare back at him and nod, feeling the pressure of his cock harden stickily around your walls. His tangled curls tumble down the space between your fingertips while you reach out for him, setting in the downcast flutter in his eyes. He deeply groans at how his cock effortlessly glides and withdraws from your pussy; a slippery slope that’s impossible to contain himself with.

Like a force of lightning, he leans his chest forward, pouring himself on your lower abdomen and splaying his cum on your stomach. Quickly, he bounces out of bed and retrieves some tissues from the bathroom to clean you up. You sat up limply from the bed to take the tissues, but instead he wipes the fresh cum off your chest with great concentration. You’ve never seen him behave so nervously before. He was patting you dry like he spilled coffee all over your most favorite shirt.

“I don’t know what went over me.” He chuckles softly as he crumples the last tissue in his hand, throwing it in a bin closer to the door. You let your hip rest on his bended knee, calming the nerves coursing through his trembling figure. “You don’t have to know.” A small, reassuring smile creep the corners of your lips, resting your palm on top of his knee.

A gust of wind sweeps the flailing orange curtains, silkily brushing your skin like smooth ribbon. “All I know is,” He whispers softly in the small space between the two of you, your bent wrist kept in close contact with his fingertips.

“You find me beautiful.” The teasing hint in his voice liquifies your insides, his restlessness fading with your inability to look at him straight. His coffee brown eyes follow the direction of your fingers on his curly ends, then the plumpness of your thighs. “The prettiest.” He lunges forward with his arms wrapped around you, crushing you in a passionate kiss. Carefully, he pulls his arms away from the pressure of your back, then rests his elbows on the disorganized sheets, caging your vision with his heavy fixture.

Every little thing he does transfixes you to a thrilling paralysis. Nature fades at the sight of him, surpassing your high observant tolerances for your surroundings. He’s like a blinding light, the afternoon sun, and a white flashlight in a darkened room.

Most of your days started to revolve around him the moment he shone on that stage with his band in middle school—battling his heart out to the music and the good impression of the judges. The admiration has always been about him, and he doesn’t know that you did for a very long time. The gods of fate swept at your feet when you encountered him on the second week of freshman year, pinning Hellfire recruitment posters on the school’s cork board.

It used to be a silly little crush, ridiculous with no strings attached, but through the passage of time, you realized that it was more than what you believed it to be. You cradled into his chest, taking in his familiar scent and the steady, heaving motions of his stomach. All night, you’ve been thinking about what would've happened if you never joined Dustin and the others at the video store, or raise your tone at Mr. Owens for ridiculing Eddie at the printing shop.

What would happen if you declined Nancy’s request for the photos, and never went to the campaign at all? What would happen if you never encountered Eddie in the middle of the forest that day, or chased him outside the night you decided to end things with him?

These kinds of thoughts sink in like quick sand—with no capability to heap it into a bag and throw it away into the ocean of other nightmares.

For the first time in a while, you observe his state of rest—the shadowed lashes of his eyes pointing down to his hollow cheeks; his brows fixed in a calmer line and his pink swollen lips, exhaling peacefully. You wished—somewhere in the deeper crevices of your mind—that you get to spend many of your quiet evenings with him someday. Your imaginations start as you invite him to your empty house, where you both cuddle up on the couch and count the stars from the ceilings of your bedroom, until you pass out after the forty-sixth star.

You swear you'll never let him out of your sight again, no matter the cost of that promise, even after everything the town says about him. Or what they'll do to him. You don't care if you have to hide him in that damn tarp and ship him to California alongside yourself. There won't be any more expiration dates, no more judgement, and no more hiding.

No matter the cost. No matter the price.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #joseph quinn #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine

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lieutenantfloyd · 10 months

Note

heyyy so i just read the rooster sfw alphabet and i was wondering if u could do one for mr hangman? if not it’s totally ok! have a great day or night :)))

SFW Alphabet — Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, jealousy, etc

a/n: A year later, and I'm finally in my Hangman era.

Also If you haven't yet, please check out the general Hangman headcanons I posted a while ago, as it gives a bit more context to my characterization of him!

a- asking (Who's the first person to confess and how does it happen?)

Jake will ask you out (or offer to take you home) first but when it comes to actual confessions of feelings, you'll need to initiate it. I truly believe that once Jake begins to fall for someone, he panics. He has no idea what to do with these feelings and will need you to take the reigns.

B - Butterflies (How they act when they're nervous.)

Do you think Hangman is cocky with a strong streak of narcissism now? A nervous Jake is an infinite amount worse, as he uses his already contentious traits as the ultimate defense mechanism.

c- cuddles (What is their favorite cuddling position? Do they like physical touch?)

Given the correct circumstances, I fully see Hangman as being very cuddly. Particularly when he's sleepy, drunk, or just returning from deployment. Once Jake is in a relationship where he feels safe and secure, he becomes more than a bit clingy as well.

d- domesticity (Are they the type to settle down with you? Are they willing to help with chores? What is your daily routine with them?)

Contrary to popular belief, Jake is 100% the type to settle down. Furthermore, he's the type to have the full American dream. Several kids and a nice white picket fence included. As far as domestic chores go, he was raised in a very traditional household where the men did none of the housework. Once he settles down though, he wants to help out but doesn't know where to start. Instead, he throws himself into more "masculine" chores, like mowing the lawn and paying the bills. While it'll take a bit of time (and patience on your part) for him to break the habit, soon he'll be cooking, cleaning, and caretaking better than you could've ever dreamed of.

e- encouragement (Do they encourage you to achieve your goals? If so, how do they support you?)

If there's one thing Jake can do, it's hyping someone up. Once you're in a relationship, all bets are off and he instantly becomes your personal hype man. There's even been a few times he nearly got himself kicked out of an event for being too rowdy. Whether it's celebrating a major life goal or completing your weekly shopping, Jake will be by your side cheering you on.

f- favorite thing(s) about you (What are their favorite personality traits/physical features about you?)

He loves how you challenge him and push him to be a better man.

g- goofiness (Do they like to make you laugh? How often do they joke around with you?)

He's the type of man to make a complete fool of himself just to make you crack a smile. Ego be damned.

h- honesty (Would they lie to you? How much do they share with you?)

While I don't think he's a liar, he does have a tendency to spin things in his favor to avoid conflict. This is especially true early on in your relationship before he feels fully comfortable. Once you two start building a life together, this habit disappears completely.

i- i love you (how fast do they say the L-Word?)

I can see this being a pretty big point of contention in your relationship. It's not that Jake doesn't love you (he's actually head or heels boots for you) it's just that those same insecurities keep bubbling up. His heart all but begs him you say those three words to you, but his head keeps winning out. What If you don't feel the same? What if he scares you off? What if you laugh in his face? Vulnerability is far from his strong suit, so this can only end up one of two ways. If you say it first: He'll give you the biggest, widest smile and pull you into the tightest hug. It's not lost to him how a few tears spill as he echoes those three words. If it turns into a big blowout fight: Only to end up spilling his guts while dodging your eyes, silently praying to whatever is out there that he made the right choice.

j- jealousy (Are they the type of person to get jealous? If so, how do they react to being jealous?)

Hangman, for better or worse, is jealous as the day is long. It all stems from several poorly hidden insecurities. A major one is that deep down he's always waiting on the other shoe to drop, as he believes that he doesn't deserve you. Jealous Jake is explosive, flippant, and often downright mean. This is especially true if he's at the hard deck and has had a drink or two. On a good day, he'll stomp around the bar and give you the silent treatment. On a bad day, he'll be going toe to toe with whoever gives you more than a passing glance.

k- kissing (Where do they like to kiss you? How frequently do they like to kiss?)

In public, he's an old school, arm around your shoulder, kisses in your hair kinda guy. In private he's a big fan of sneaking up behind you and giving you a few kisses on your neck.

l- love language (What's their love language?)

Words of affirmation. His less-than-stellar childhood paired with his career in the armed forces has left him craving the particular type of love only words of affection can give. Just a mere "Have fun!" Text, when he goes out with Javy, is enough to make his heart pound happily in his chest.

m- marriage (Do they want to marry you eventually? Who proposes to who?)

As mentioned in letter D, he's the all-American type, and marriage is just another aspect of that. I don't see him doing a big planned proposal though. Instead, he'll end up asking for your hand while you're like, washing the dishes (or something equally as mundane). He's actually been thinking about it for like two years but he's too nervous to say anything, but this time the thought of his wife washing the dishes in his house was too much to bear

n- nicknames (What do they call you? What do you call them?)

He calls you: Sugar, Doll, cupcake, or anything else sickeningly sweet You call him: Honey, Darling, Jakey, Jay... Cowboy and/or Tex when you want to get on his nerves

o- openness (How much do they tell you about themselves? Do they reveal everything at once or gradually throughout the relationship?)

You wouldn't be a fool to think Jake has told you everything. Lord knows that man loves to talk about himself. Yet if you look hard enough, you'll see inklings of a deeper, darker story lying beneath. Despite this, you won't press him about it. It stays in the back of your mind until one day, when the sun shines just right, he'll choose to reveal every part of his backstory to you.

p- PDA (Are they affectionate in public or do they prefer to keep your kisses behind closed doors? Are they the type to brag about their SO?)

One thing that surprises you when you first start going out with him is that he's shockingly shy when it comes to PDA, especially around those that know him best. As your relationship grows he'll be a bit more lenient when it comes to ODA, but he'll still always prefer to keep the larger displays of affection behind closed doors.

q- quality time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Paintball, hiking, axe throwing... He likes to try new activities or do something physical. Really, anything that allows him to be a show off.

r- romance (Are they the romantic type? If so, how do they express their feelings?)

Hangman is the most accidentally romantic man you'll ever meet. On any random Thursday, he'll cook dinner, string up fairy lights in the backyard, and hire a string quartet. Not to be romantic, just because he thinks you'll find it cool.

s- security (How protective are they of you? If they are, how do they show this?)

Hangman would quite literally both kill and die for the people he loves. Luckily, in everyday life, he takes a more chill approach to things and is instead very trustworthy and dependable.

t- turn-offs (What traits do they find unattractive?)

Jake is a son of Texas through and through, and is immediately turned off by anyone who is disrespectful and lacks manners. Oh, and anyone who supports Aggie football.

u- understanding (Are they good at sympathizing with your problems? Do they listen to you when you need to rant?)

He's decently understanding. If you're prone to more emotional responses, he may struggle a bit with that. Nonetheless, he will always sympathize and/or let you rant to him if need be.

v- value (What do they value most about your relationship?)

Having someone in his corner. With his choice of career, he understands better than most the importance of having someone you can depend on no matter what.

w- wild card (A random headcanon about your relationship)

Hat. Rule. If you're going out with Jake, his nice white cowboy hat will inevitably become a staple of your wardrobe.

x- x-ray (How well are they able to read you?)

When it comes to emotional labor, he is more than a bit oblivious. He'll even admit that it is a foreign concept to him. Like other areas of your relationship, give him some grace and a few pointers and he'll figure it out soon enough.

y- yearning (How well do they cope when their SO isn't with them?)

It takes a while for your absence to sink in. After it does, his ego won't let him admit he's in shambles without you. Unfortunately, anyone who has the (dis)pleasure of being in his presence during this time Is well aware. Javy has even taken it upon himself to alert the rest of the squad when you leave town, etc so they can prepare.

z- zappy (Are they fast-paced in a relationship? Or do they like to take things slow?)

A relationship with Jake will start off as an achingly slow burn. But give him time and your unwavering love, and before you know it, you'll have a full-on forest fire.

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racinggirl · 1 year

Text

illegally good || Charles Leclerc 16

part of the 700 celebration drabbles!

words: 3k Oh my god, I know I said drabbles, but I promise it's good! I had such a blast writing this, I am in love. Mafia / confident / boss Charles is absolutely my favorite! also, excuse my French, this GIF? URGH. Anyways, I hope you'll enjoy reading! Please let me know your thoughts about this fic below! I'd love to hear your perspective on it :) warnings: mafia, swearing, mentions of murder, kidnapping, abuse (nothing major), all with a fluff ending because you know me

(as a part of my 700 followers celebration, I'm taking requests for drabbles, check this post for more information)

One thing you absolutely hated? Taking care of other people’s dirty jobs, especially when those people were getting the credits for it. Credit you should get, because those people did not deserve a single compliment about their efforts.

It happened to you, and you were tired of it, tired of the fact you were not getting any promotions – if you could even call it promotions in the business you worked at – or credits for the things you did. So, you quit. You said goodbye to your old life, after months of trying to sneak away, to disappear from the radar entirely, before coming back as a new you.

New name, check. New hair, check. New house, new identity, check.

All those things happened when you were just 12, growing up in the business your father, who was a leader of the mafia, built, hoping you’d take over that same business one day. But things changed, and especially for being a woman, you knew people wouldn’t listen. They weren’t moving with the years, they weren’t modernizing. No. They were old school, old fashioned and would think of a woman as a side job, someone who’d do all the dirty work, take care of the kids, be safe at home while the men would do the real deal.

Your father wasn’t happy, at all, when you ran away at the age of 19. You moved countries, all on your own. Away from everything. You had promised your father you wouldn’t tell anyone about his business, about his secret life, if he’d leave you alone. You were the daughter of a mafia boss, after all. You knew how to get the things you wanted.

Fast forward 3 years, in which you were a ‘normal’ university student. ‘Normal’ because, even though you were just 22 years old, you were rich. You were able to rent an apartment in the highest possible level, in the fanciest country of Europe. Monaco.

That’s why, you and your friends, who were studying fashion in Italy, were now wandering the crowded streets of your country. The Formula One weekend was here, which created thousands of people exploring the streets you called home.

Loads of celebrity’s called Monaco their home as well, why? Taxes. Money. Living in Monaco meant life was expensive, but it also meant you could afford the expensive lifestyle due to the low taxes. Something that made the decision to moving to Monaco even easier.

‘’This is amazing.’’ One of your friends exclaimed when you were walking through the paddock of the Monaco Grand Prix, of course you had tickets, you wanted them, so you’d get them.

‘’It’s quite impressive, indeed.’’ You replied, your hands in the pockets of your jeans as you looked around, the colorful motorhomes of each team slowly appearing in front of you. However, one motorhome stood out, and not because of the color, but because of the person in front of it.

Charles Leclerc, 25 years old, born and raised in Monte Carlo, Monaco. Formula One driver and loved amongst many. However, that’s not how you knew him. Aside from his job in the motorsports industry, he also was part of a group, and not just a normal group.

Your father had warned you about them, but you knew it was just so you wouldn’t be sloppy with your work and to make sure you’d deliver the best possible outcomes. You had never met them, the Italian mafia, but you had heard stories. Rumors, about this man in front of you in particular.

The Formula One career was a perfect cover up for the things he did, since nobody knew about it, and nobody would even believe the stories about Charles Leclerc being a member of the mafia. How could he, he was so innocent, so sweet and gentle.

‘’Oh, my goodness that’s Charles Leclerc, come on, we should say hi!’’ You mentally strangled your friend the moment she started walking to the Ferrari driver, dragging the rest of your friends along with her. Just perfect.

‘’Hi, Charles! It’s so nice to meet you, could we get a picture?’’ Charles listened to the ladies, as the gentleman he is, and took the pictures. However, you weren’t going to take one step closer to your enemy. Okay, he wasn’t technically your enemy anymore since you left your fathers business, but you couldn’t betray your family like that.

‘’Come on y/n, join us for the pictures!’’ Your friends were standing next to Charles, as his racing suit was lowered to his hips, revealing the red fireproof top that fitted him like a glove.

‘’I’m fine, thanks.’’ You weren’t taking your eyes off the Monegasque, feeling the need to keep an eye on whatever he did, every sneaky movement he’d make would be something you’d see. And he knew, he knew who you were, he knew what you were doing as well.

However, he didn’t mention it, he didn’t put his active attention on you, knowing it would cause people to become suspicious. However, you weren’t stupid. You knew he knew, and that made you even more careful about your actions.

‘’Goodluck on the race.’’ Your friends cheered on the driver, who returned a smile. ‘’Thank you, ladies, have fun watching the race. I’m sure you love some action.’’ And you knew those last words were directed towards you, that it was just a sneaky way of letting you know he knew who you were.

Two months forward, and it was summer in Monaco. The sun was shining, people were swimming in the ocean, tanning on the beach, and you were one of them. As much as you told yourself the things from your past would stay in the past, you couldn’t help but keep thinking about him. Trying to track everything he did whenever you saw him walking through the streets of Monaco, driving his Ferrari, greeting fans. He almost looked innocent. Almost.

It was late, almost 3 am, when you were walking through the dark streets of Monaco. Maybe you had a little too much to drink, but you for sure weren’t going to stay the night at the club. You were tired and wanted to go home. Your friends, however, were still having the best time of their lives, so you gave them the spare key to your house, not feeling the need to spend 3 more hours in that club.

You were making your way home, humming slightly to yourself as you suddenly felt two hands gripping your waist, a little tighter than a friendly person would do. The action made you scream, but it was quickly muffled by another pair of hands on your mouth, preventing you from screaming even more.

Your eyes were wide open, as you tried to identify the two men that were holding you. But it was dark, making it almost impossible for you to see who were hiding under the black beanies and mouth masks.

‘’Silent, pretty, you’re coming with us.’’ And that’s when you knew. You recognized that voice, not because you’ve heard it live before, but because you heard it over the phone multiple times whenever your father had another heated discussion over the phone.

‘’And what if I don’t want to, Niccolo.’’ You groaned, but the sharp metal leaning against your side made you clench your jaw, a sigh escaping your lips as your eyes closed to think.

‘’I don’t think you have a choice, bambina.’’

‘’You know I quit 3 years ago, I have nothing, I know nothing.’’ You said as you felt the rope against your wrists, looking up at the right hand of Vincenzo, Niccolo. Before you could speak even more, the big metal door on the left opened, a big man, typical Italian, typical mafia boss, came walking through the doors.

‘’Vincenzo, we found her, capo.’’ Niccolo spoke up, stepping aside to give the man full access to you.

He grabbed your jaw, tightly, as he moved your face left to right, checking out your delicate features. ‘’No microphones, no cameras?’’ He grunted, harshly releasing his grip on your face the moment his workers told him you had nothing on you.

‘’I fucking told you. I quit. I have nothing to do with my father anymore. I guess your minions aren’t the best at keeping an eye out for the competi-‘’ A harsh slap across your face made you shut your mouth, a burning sensation running through your cheek.

‘’Shut up.’’ Vincenzo glared at you, pacing back and forth as he thought, about you, about your father, about the entire situation in front of him.

You slowly turned your gaze forward again, moving your jaw left to right to try and get rid of the painful sensation. You stayed silent for a few more seconds, but again, you were the daughter of a mafia boss, this wasn’t the first time you got slapped in the face.

‘’ You won’t get anything out of me, you know that.’’ You muttered, narrowing your eyes as Vincenzo appeared in front of you, the biggest smirk on his face as he rubbed your still burning cheek.

‘’I know, bambina, I know, but I’m sure your father would hate to see his precious little daughter on the edge of death.’’ He whispered; the smirk still apparent on his face. You couldn’t help but feel shivers over your entire body. Maybe it was the fact the alcohol was getting out of your system, or maybe it was the intimidation you felt from the man in front of you, but you weren’t going to let them win.

‘’You should brush your teeth, asshole.’’ You replied, watching the smirk disappear from Vincenzo’s face, followed by a black screen in front of you, the consequence of a harsh smack across the back of your head, causing you to pass out in the uncomfortable wooden chair.

‘’She’s with me, yes.’’ You heard a faint voice on the other side of the room, the bright light from the sun outside being too much for your eyes to bare now, so you closed your eyes again, slowly.

‘’No, she’s no longer part of the group. Listen to me, Vincenzo. You stay away from her, understood? If I ever see you near her again, I’ll make sure you won’t…’’ That’s all you could hear, the faint voice kept speaking, but you weren’t listening since you passed out again, but this time in a comfortable soft bed.

You woke up hours later, it was dark outside, and there was a soft music playing in the background, piano music, to be precise. You tried to adjust to the environment for a few seconds before slipping your feet out of the bed, your toes running through the soft carpet at the sides of it.

You weren’t wearing your party dress anymore, but instead, you were dressed in an oversized shirt, which for sure wasn’t yours.

The headache at the back of your head was making it hard for you to focus, but you could swear the piano music was live, and not from a random radio station. The flawless melody paired with the fine tunes sounded like magic to your ears, and you followed the sound of the music till you found yourself in a room with the one man you for sure weren’t expecting.

The music faded, until it completely stopped, but you didn’t move. You watched the back of the man as you leaned against the doorframe, your arms crossed in front of your chest.

‘’Did you take the painkillers?’’ Was the first thing he said, without even turning around to face you.

‘’No.’’ You saw them, but you weren’t going to take random pills on the nightstand in a room you didn’t know.

‘’Are you feeling better?’’ The man asked again, this time slowly turning around to take a decent look at you.

‘’Why am I here?’’ You asked. ‘’I already told Vincenzo I know nothing about the business my father has right now. So, what the fuck do you want?’’ You were annoyed, mostly by the fact you got kidnapped in the middle of the night, twice. You had lost track of time, not even knowing what day it was right now.

‘’I’ll take that as a yes.’’ The man said, reaching for the cup of water which was standing on top of the piano. He handed it to you, to which you rolled your eyes. He then took a sip himself, and handed that same cup to you again, which, this time, you accepted.

‘’Sit down.’’ He said, looking over to the couch after watching you take a sip of the water.

‘’I’m perfectly fine standing where I am.’’ You replied, playing with the cup of water in your hands.

‘’Whatever you’d like.’’ The man responded, taking a seat on the couch as he looked at the table in front of him.

‘’I’d like an explanation, Charles.’’ You spoke. ‘’First, I’m being kidnapped by Niccolo at fucking 3 am after a party with my friends, only to be brought to Vincenzo, who’s not even hesitating a second to murder me. Then he beats me till I pass out, and I wake up in I assume your apartment, after I heard you talk to Vincenzo. What are you going to do to me, Charles, kill me? Hold me hostage? Torture me? I wish you luck, because I’m not giving you a single piece of information.’’

Charles sighed, heavily, his gaze moving from the table to you, before getting up from the couch. He walked closer towards you, lifting your chin up carefully to watch the bruises across your face.

‘’I’m not like that anymore, y/n.’’ He started. ‘’I left the group once my career became serious when I got to Formula One. I’m not your enemy anymore.’’ He mentioned, and at first you didn’t believe him. But once he started to explain everything, from the way he had more power than Vincenzo, how his career in Formula One had become one of the most important things in life, and mainly how he followed you those last couple of months. He knew you were in Monaco, and he quickly found out you were no longer part of your fathers’ group. He almost felt obligated to keep an eye on you, to keep you safe from any of the things he knew Vincenzo would do, but he knew that if he told Vincenzo to stay away from you, he’d only give insight in the fact you were in Monaco, and Charles preferred to keep that a secret.

However, when they found out you were currently staying in the country, they stroked, and before Charles could even do anything, they had captured you. The only thing Charles could do was demand Vincenzo and his group to bring you to his place, which he immediately did. He saved your life, and why? Because he knew you were innocent, you were just like him, someone that had been thrown at this life, but chose the right path instead of the wrong one.

Now, years later, and you were walking through that same paddock where you saw him for the very first time. Only this time you weren’t just a stranger anymore.

‘’y/n! y/n! Over here! This camera!’’ You smiled sweetly at the cameras, flashes lightening the way in front of you as you saw the man standing at the exact same place he was 4 years ago, only this time, he was your man.

‘’Ciao bella.’’ Charles wrapped his arm around your shoulders, his lips pressing a delicate kiss against your temple as you closed your eyes for a brief moment. ‘’Hey handsome.’’ You responded; a smile painted on your lips as you looked up at your boyfriend.

‘’Charles! Y/n! such a lovely couple, can you look at this camera for a second?’’ Photographers were slowly gathering around you, at which Charles’ arm wrapped around your shoulder even tighter, in order to keep you safe, to protect you from anything out there. Not that it was needed anymore, because Vincenzo had been arrested, along with the rest of his group.

‘’Let’s go inside, hmm. I heard we have pizza inside.’’ Charles whispered in your ear, at which your smile grew even wider. ‘’Well then, come on, what are we waiting for?’’ You exclaimed happily, your hand intertwining with his as you walked inside the hospitality.

But once you walked inside, you were disappointed with the fact there wasn’t a single slice of pizza to be seen. ‘’Charles!’’ You exclaimed, turning around to watch your boyfriend step closer to you. ‘’There’s no pizza…’’ You whispered as his arms wrapped around your waist, your arms resting on his shoulders as you played with the hair at the back of his neck.

‘’I know, love, I just wanted you to myself.’’ He whispered, placing a few kisses at the corners of your mouth. ‘’And I’ll get you as much pizza as you want tonight.’’ He added, at which the corners of your mouth turned upward almost instantly.

‘’I love you, Charles.’’ You whispered, closing your eyes as you felt his fingers tucking a single strand of hair behind your ear.

‘’I love you too, my love, more than you can ever imagine.’’ And with that, he pressed his lips on yours, slowly, softly, but oh so illegally good…

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askmerriauthor · 9 months

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regarding pokemon sleep, it looks like you’re just looking for things to complain about. it’s designed to be this chill thing you check on during the day and leave running at night. to play it, all you have to do is sleep and feed your pokemon. no one’s telling you you to have to be the very best at it or pressuring you into paying for stuff, let alone the game itself.

If I was just looking for things to complain about, I'd still be out here whinging over Pokemon Cafe's delightfully charming art style being absolutely wasted on a junk puzzle game instead of a full RPG or cozy slice-of-life Sim.

Regarding this post here.

Hi, I'm MerriAuthor. Apparently we haven't met because anyone who follows my blog would know that I've worked in game development well on 20 years now. I've worked across the industry from little nobody indie houses, to overseas gacha-fodder, to big ol' AAA major studios. Video games and their design are a big part of my life and, boy howdy, do I have some FEELINGS about the direction the industry as a whole has gone in as the years go by. Especially in regards to the predatory monetization of gaming and how it actively preys on children, uninformed parents, people with addictive behaviors, people with hyper-competitive personalities, and similar behavioral traits solely for the purpose of making money at their expense.

it’s designed to be this chill thing you check on during the day and leave running at night. to play it, all you have to do is sleep and feed your pokemon.

As with the previous person I spoke with on this topic, that is the base function of the game. But it's by no means the design of the game. Pokemon Sleep's entire game play rotation and marketplace are designed around encouraging the Player to interact with it as much as possible within an intentionally limited time frame. Meanwhile, the game's own time scale is such that it expects Players to log hundreds if not thousands of hours of interaction with it. Its own base gameplay loop is a weekly schedule and its shop schedule is monthly. Some Pokemon require a bare minimum of 150 hours of logged sleep to even access. Pokemon Sleep wants you to be in it for the long haul.

It's also based on collection; nearly every facet of the game is listed numerically and with a percentage value or progress bar, which are functions designed to produce urgency to complete them in the Player. Human brains don't like seeing an unfinished goal, especially one represented so overtly as an unfilled progress bar or a percentage value with a decimal. Want to have your favorite Pokemon as your napping buddy but don't want to put in a ton of effort playing the game to boost up your Snorlax's power score? Better hope it's one of the low-tier Pokemon assigned into the lower brackets of the gameplay progression, because otherwise you're never going to see it. Though you could always just fork over some cash. Nearing the end of your week with Snorlax and you're just shy of a milestone you've been aiming the entire week for? Good luck! You can pay money for that extra little boost, and once you've done it you'll resent its absence enough to want to buy it again! Do you want to level up that cutie first Charmander the game gave you at the very beginning specifically to ingrain itself with faux emotional value into your favorite Charizard? Want your Eevee to evolve into one of its most popular Eeveelutions? Want a Lucario, period? You'll need to put in hundreds of hours of consistent sleep to save up enough Sleep Points exclusively toward that goal... or you can just buy access to it immediately, through first purchasing access to the Premium Subscription! A Premium Subscription which, again, doesn't auto-cancel if you delete the app and can't be canceled through the app itself, for all you distracted parents who don't pay attention to fine print and wonder why your kid's game is running up a bill on your credit card each month after the 14-day free period - just long enough for you to have forgotten all about it in the first place. Snorlax wants a specific kind of Berry this week, but none of the helper Pokemon you recruited gather that berry, or they do and are just too low on Energy to manage it? Aren't you lucky! The shop will just sell you solutions to these problems the game itself created specifically to get you to shell out money!

no one’s telling you you to have to be the very best at it or pressuring you into paying for stuff, let alone the game itself.

Here's some screen shots from the game's own app page. Buttons to make purchases and drive interaction - the app store, sleep pass, how many dream shards you have, a prompt to buy more inventory space, your missions, your current goal, the progress meter and rarity values of your Pokemon's sleep styles, your collection and their levels, etc - are all constantly and prominently displayed. The entire first day of actual gameplay in the app is a tutorial explaining how it wants you to do more than just sleep and passively collect to the point that it literally sets a daily schedule of activity for you. The mechanics explanations are so egregiously long that the Professor character literally apologizes to the Player for being so long-winded about it. Oh, an adorable moment of self-depreciation and understanding! How humanizing and encouraging of empathy from the user, done with a cheeky wink and nod. Now that we've softened your emotional state ever so slightly, here's some more microtransaction-driven gameplay elements!

If this was really just a cute little game to idle around with for its own fun, there wouldn't be a cash shop, nor would the game require a consistent internet connection to its servers. The big thing with games like these is that they're not made for the Player's benefit or entertainment. They're made to make the parent company profits. That's it. If the Pokemon Company didn't think they'd make substantial returns on the investment of development, support, marketing, and online distribution costs to put this game out into the world, they never would have made it. That is a core reality of any product put out these days. I just spent this last week helping my studio's marketing and sales team make sales projections for one of our upcoming titles, figuring out how much we could reasonably charge our potential customers literally down to the penny. And the game we're selling isn't even a service with any kind of microtransactions or DLCs. Profits are fundamental in any studio production and, where microtransaction apps are concerned, are the core focus of why the app exists.

If you're perfectly happy with playing Pokemon Sleep as an idle "pop on every once in a while, poke for a few minutes, then forget about and never pay a cent" kind of game? Totally fine, you do you. But understand that Pokemon Sleep doesn't want you as its player and will not cater to your experience. The core gameplay of Pokemon Sleep is already designed to actively degrade into a subpar experience for those who don't pay to play and that rift will only become more pronounced as time goes by. Everything around the cash shop exists for no other reason than to encourage you to use the cash shop. Over time, the gameplay will further contort itself to drive more interaction with and reliance upon the cash shop as the app sheds its non-paying users who just tire of it and move on, instead doubling-down on the lingering, paying users who have already proven themselves a reliable stream of revenue. That is how these things always go and have always historically gone.

There's also the consistently apt adage of "if you're not paying for the product, you are the product". Pokemon Sleep requires an internet connection any time you want to interact with the app - there is no offline mode. Further, the actual fine print in the terms of service (not the bubbly, legally-meaningless assurances put into the game text itself) addresses that it will collect and may share your device information, user ID, and app activity (ie, the schedules, timing habits, and spending habits the game itself has ingrained into its interaction with the Player) for analytics and advertising purposes, and that they're okay with sharing (ie, selling) that information to third parties without naming who those third parties are. And boy, does the game really want you to link your Google, Apple, and Facebook accounts to it as part of its core functionality! Worth keeping in mind as well is that the app requires constant access to your microphone and can pick up sounds as minor as a sheet rustling when you turn over in bed. The game's bubbly, meaningless text assures you that it doesn't save or transfer the snippets of sleep recordings it makes of you each night, but it makes absolutely no assurances whatsoever in the fine print that it's not using your microphone for other purposes. It does, however, point out that it will be making use of your phone's functions even when you're not using the app.

So, yeah, I'll just still be over here not playing Pokemon Sleep and encouraging others to do the same, as well as pay closer attention to the nature of so-called "free to play" games.

#pokemon #pokemon sleep #game design #game development #microtransactions #corporations are not your friend

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dukeoftheblackstar · 7 months

Note

got any plo koon fic recs? looking for some new stuff that's good. one shots and long fics welcome! I'll take anything i can get

Shamelessly promoting my own:

Dom!Plo ask by yours truly, submitted by the lovely @mild-disorganization

Some tired dad!Plo headcanons maybe?

And for some that I have read and adored:

Plo Koon Masterlist by @my-head-is-an-animal (Mixed)

Thigh Kink with Plo by @saradika (NSFW)

Not a fic, but hella spice by @saradika (SFW & NSFW)

Friendship - Plo Koon & Wolffe by @wild-karrde (SFW)

PloKit Art (their entire blog) by @uiro-mgmg1 (NSFW - mostly art)

SFW & NSFW Alphabets for Plo by @samspenandsword

My favorite ♥:

Sovereign (PloKit, idk if you're into it, but I am) by @tits-fisto (NSFW but very wholesome)

The Tiniest Councilor by Quiet_Shadow (SFW)

Name and Soul by @decepticonsensual (SFW)

Haven't read but is on queue when I have the mood and will power to actually read and not thirst for our Kel Dor Emperor ♥

of claws and tusks by my bestiecakes ♥ @saengak <- Apparently, it's hella angsty and I reserve the angst for weekend when I'm not out here thirsting for this King.

in deditionem by my bestiecakes ♥ @saengak <- I've seen them write ♥, it makes me squeeeeeeee ♥

Helium by @cynderiaopus who also made my current bomb AF pfp of Plo steepling ♥

Other materials and interesting read:

@exosorcery has very interesting comics and posts about Kel Dors in general. Here's one specific of Plo Koon:

A few faves from them:

@veny-many for their AUs and Plo Koon & Wolfpack Art (also includes others) <- Presenting you the bebbis ♥

My faves:

The entire post AU 66 where Plo lives is a quintessential to any post AU 66 imho because I'm heavily invested in this and I'm about to cry because I need to organize my bookmarks (and update this) so I can give you the proper start to fin link.

I'd post more from @veny-many and @exosorcery, but if you spend a good 10 minutes scrolling, you'll be there forever. Quality art content!

You may also want to check World building and ConLang Kel Dor study, apart from their OC x Plo Koon art. Big thanks for this neat document by @plokoonsdisapprovingeyebrows

[[ @plokoonsdisapprovingeyebrows I hope it's okay to share. If not, I can take it down ♥ ]]

So far just these at the top of my head. Thank you for the Plo-related ask :D! I enjoyed sifting through my bookmarks ♥

Don't forget to give love and reblog, comment, follow these amazing people who do so much for the Plo Koon, Dorin, Kel Dor tags ♥

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simplepotatofarmer · 1 year

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hi, i'm loyal (they/them)!

i'm an adult, an anarchist and hardcore union supporter, and i have two kids and a bunch of chickens. i post pictures of my chickens and talk about my kids' sometimes. i have no dni; i find them pointless, just be kind and curate your experience. <3

this is primarily a lore blog! i rarely, if ever, post about the cc's and if i do, it's generally cc!techno.

i'm a writer, mostly rivals duo centric fanfic! i love c!techno, c!dream, and i think doomsday was right and based and that the syndicate has never done anything wrong, ever, and in fact were always correct. also, c!emerald duo deserves the entire world.

on this blog you'll find:

🐝 technoblade content as well as rivals duo posts! 🐝 posts about my chickens! and general chicken posting 🐝 lots of art! if you're an artist, especially for techno or dream, literally feel free to send me your art to reblog! i try very hard to reblog as much as i can! 🐝 my meta/writing posts! mostly about techno but i also touch on overall themes and c!dream as well. 🐝 occasional posts about anarchism or anti-capitalism

as far as characters other than techno, i'm really fond of dream, phil, niki, ponk, badboyhalo, antfrost, awesamdude, captain puffy, sylvee, hannah, gia, skeppy, and bigb! i also really like mr. goodtimeswithscar!

🌻 i don't like drama! please don't involve me or tag me in it, thank you <3 🌻 like/reblog spamming is perfectly okay! i actually love seeing it. 🌻 if you need anything tagged, please let me know! 🌻 my ask is always open for questions, whether about characters, aus, or anything else! 🌻 i have no interest in engaging with discourse or cc negative, at all. neither am i going to list out which cc's i don't like or support. that sort of thing makes me feel weird. 🌻 if i have you blocked, it's not personal.

check out my au primer posts! [x] [x] [x] [x]

-> loyal's scrapbook <-

a list of my favorite posts beneath the cut! + more info

💛 technoblade & dehumanization 💛 kindness vs. niceness in the dsmp 💛 technoblade & kindness vs. niceness 💛 violence is the only universal language 💛 yes, the syndicate are friends you just don't watch them 💛 why justice on the dream smp fails 💛 dsmp & the ones who walk away from omelas 💛 dream's healing from the pov of a child abuse victim 💛 doomsday trio headcanons 💛 technoblade & minimization 💛cc!techno positivity 💛 c!dream and the laydown sacrifice 💛 phil, techno & friendship 💛 yes techno has questioned himself here's the clips 💛 a breakdown of the doomsday speeches 💛 on prison and minecraft 💛 why dream being redeemed makes sense 💛 favorite techno headcanons

tagging system:

#loyal talks about stuff and things: general original text posts, often including posts about the dsmp and charancters

#the loyal homestead flock: chicken pictures and updates!

#loyal answers things: answered asks

*banners (except for header) made by @/call-me-apple

#long post #a new pinned. over a year later. :|#loyal talks about stuff and things

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vindikaetion · 8 months

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Because The Stone Dragon won in the WIP poll I posted the other day, here's a small blurb for you all! :)

(Pssst if you wanna go check out my bestie's @hijacksecrets art for this au, go check it out here)

"I used to read you stories."

Hiccup blinked up from Jack's lap, who had a smile on his face that spoke of reminiscence. The carriage made a very gentle sound as it traversed dirt terrain that almost lulled him to sleep, wrapped in furs and blankets as he was.

"Oh?" he prodded past the knives in his throat. "When you were a kid?"

Jack made a 'tut' sound, placing a pleasantly cold hand on Hiccup's feverish forehead. "Stop talking, idiot."

Part of Hiccup wanted to say something just to annoy Jack, but even speaking the little he had took everything out of him. Hiccup smiled lopsided instead, closing his eyes and letting out a small purr when Jack started to run his cool fingers across his scalp.

"Yes, when I was a kid. Ma' kept telling me to practice in case I ever found myself with a good job." Jack let out a snort. "Like that was ever going to happen. But when Emma was a baby..."

Jack's voice was deep, and had a very soothing hum to it. Hiccup found himself focusing on it, imagining how his lips curled as he spoke.

"I wanted to read to her when she could finally understand it. So when my parents were asleep, I'd slip outside and sit by your statue to practice."

Hiccup blinked his eyes open.

"I..." he breathed. "I think I remember that."

Jack's hands halted. "Do you?"

If Hiccup focussed enough, past the haze in his mind that was starting to become as familiar as an old friend, he could just about make out a smaller voice. One that stuttered over longer words and made funny sounds to mimic sword fighting or dragon-breath.

"Yeah," Hiccup said. He knew he'd probably regret speaking more when the task itself seemed insurmountable, but he couldn't help himself. "I don't remember what they were about, though. I don't remember much of anything when I was a statue."

Jack shrugged. It could have been Hiccup's imagination, but there almost seemed to be a blush dusting on his cheeks. "Eh, they weren't very good. I'm pretty sure I made up most of it when I got to the harder books, anyway."

"Tell me one?"

It was hard to fight the instinct to purr again when Jack went back to scratching his scalp, mindful of the sensitive frills that adorned his head.

"Alright then. Maybe you'll actually rest your voice if I keep you distracted," Jack said.

"Doubtful," Hiccup replied against his better judgment. It felt like a plasma blast was rising up his chest to settle in his throat, singeing both his vocal chords and tongue. He wasn't fire-proof on the inside, afterall.

"You're annoyingly stubborn, you know?" Jack laughed, shaking his head and swishing snow white hair to-and-fro. Hiccup couldn't help but smile at it. "Fine. I've got one story that I memorized almost word for word. It was Emma's favorite."

Jack cleared his throat, as all great story-tellers do. Hiccup closed his eyes just as Jack opened his mouth to speak.

"There were dragons when I was a boy…"

#I love this au #wish i could work on it more #but alassss #hijack #httyd #rotg #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #jack frost #the stone dragon #my writing

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aksually2008 · 1 year

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aksel's guide to relaxing media

A lot of people have asked me to compile a list of my go-to depressing/dooming media, but I feel it would be irresponsible to give you that without an antidote.

Maybe this will be of help to you on an anxious night and instead of smoking a cigarette you'll turn to this or maybe its a nice cozy afternoon and you need something to maintain that feeling.. either way here's stuff that I consume on those days:

Film/TV

youtube

Joe Pera Talks You to Sleep

This is something I have recommended to most of my friends at this point and if you ever give me the opportunity I'll probably talk your ear off about this man. I have a very special affinity towards this video, as it randomly found me on a particularly stressful quarantine night and boy am I glad it did.

I'm not gonna talk about it too much further, but if you're feeling a little bit lost or anxious, even after my 250 watches of this, I end up feeling a little bit better. If you like it make sure to check out his show, Joe Pera Talks With You on hbomax as it's one of my favourite shows ever!! The episodes are short and easy to digest :)

How to With John Wilson

It's hard for me to exactly describe this show, it's just one of those things you have to see for yourself to fully understand the appeal of it. For the most part, this show uses street footage of New York City and interviews with average everyday New Yorkers to convey some kind of narrative, usually disguised as a tutorial(hence the "how to"). There's a lot of absurdity, laughter and sometimes it plays with your emotions a bit, but sometimes it's nice to just unwind and learn about the insane industry of scaffolding in NYC.

youtube

Come and Visit Us Again

Okay, so this is probably one of the most niche things here.. Considering that it has 205 views as of me writing this and it's in estonian with no captions available.(Maybe someday I'll translate it)

As far as I can tell, it is a documentary short made by Liis Nimik, who at the time was a film school student. It follows the day-to-day of a village grocery store cashier and her interactions with the people who visit her store everyday.

Moms, dads, scary little kids and village bums.. It has it all and serves as this kind of a sweet time capsule of one particular week in this one Estonian village. I will admit this is probably extra comforting for me as I grew up near a village similar to this that also had a store just like this one. In a small village, the people who work at the local grocery store really become apart of your everyday life and I loved to see it captured like this.

I feel like even if you don't understand Estonian, it's nice background noise.

Malcom in the Middle

Need I say more?

Youtube

If you know me, you know I'm a fiend for comforting youtube personalities. Here are some of my favorites:

youtube

Steve Wallis

Even if you aren't particularly interested in camping, you'll still probably enjoy these videos. Steve is probably one of the sweetest dudes I've found on YouTube and he really knows how to keep a conversation. All in all, just nice to throw on if you just wanna disconnect for 30 minutes

youtube

Shirley Curry

I've loved Shirley's stuff for years now. She calls her viewers her grandkids and posts vlogs & let's plays. I think that covers the gist of it.

youtube

Featureman a.k.a. Tom Willett

This is an older gentleman, who for the most part shows you different meals that he makes & tells you stories about his time as an actor in the 1980s. Every video feels like you're visiting your grandpa.

youtube

GIFGAS

I found them quite recently, but they're quickly turning into my favourite Youtube channel. Videos of trainhopping, which are so well shot and the music choices are soooooo gooooood. Every travel vlog should have a mandatory requirement of at least (1) shoegaze song.

youtube

Roger Hance

Found this guy randomly on my recommended and him only having 4k subs feels like a crime. He's a bird photographer, who vlogs his outings and talks about all the little birds he sees. super cute.

Music

Below are a couple of playlists and tracks I recommend for this occasion:

Mixture of ambient tracks and just relaxing instrumentals. There's no vocals. During the summer, I would always listen to this if I was sitting in a park or doodling.

This is just some of my favourite ambient tracks. If you've never really listened to ambient music before, check this out I guarantee you'll like it.

I have fallen asleep to this so many times that sometimes i just constantly hear it in the back of my head. Maybe thats not a comforting thought but it helps me sleep so that's a price I am willing to pay.

That's about it though.. I didn't include everything, because this is already pretty long and I have to keep some things secret, but I hope you find use in some of this. bye

#comforting #aksually #Youtube #Spotify

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happi-tree · 2 years

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cursed, cast, cat

Hi, lovebirds!!! It's been a minute since I've posted frogshow fic on here, but this spooky au concept and @themissakat's wonderful art of it simply will not let me rest (they helped me brainstorm for it and the stuff they've made is absolutely GORGEOUS - check it out here and here if you haven't already). I'm planning on adding more to this au (everything on here will be tagged under #cc au), so you'll see more of it soon, and this short bit is just the beginning! With all that said and done, the fic is below the cut! Hope you guys enjoy this new variant of our favorite trio <3

<I found you something,> a teasing voice singsongs through their link, honey-sweet and syrup-thick.

Marcy hums and finishes tying her bundle of herbs together with red twine, stepping up on her chair and then the counter to hang it from the rafters with its companions.

<Please tell me it’s more weeping trillium,> she sighs back. <We’re almost out, and mail order is so expensive - >

<Even better,> the voice purrs, and Marcy can practically feel the smirk in its tone, the ghost of it threatening to pull at her own lips. She rolls her eyes instead as their door creaks open, the bell at the top chiming a cheery welcome.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Marcy says aloud, eyes still focused on getting the twine to fasten tightly around the thick, oaken beam.

<I mean, I’d sure appreciate it if you looked,> the voice resounds in her head, snarky but warm.

“Okay, hang on, let me just - what did I tell you about bringing your kills into the house!?”

Sitting pretty just past the threshold is a rather large cat, brown-coated with darker markings around its face and paws like a Burmese would, but with luxurious, fluffy fur more comparable to a Himalayan. Said coat of fur is matted in places, speckled with burrs and forest detritus that indicate hours of scouring through the underbrush, and pretty gold-brown eyes stare up into hers.

In the cat’s jaws is a lump of brownish something that squirms in her unbothered grip.

<Firstly, rude,> the cat replies, promptly depositing the poor thing on the floor and casually trapping it beneath fluffy paws as it scrambles to get away. <That was one time, and I was half-high on the neighbor kids’ catnip! So not my fault. Secondly, she’s clearly alive.>

“I can see that,” Marcy says, catching flashes of amphibian-looking skin as the creature vainly struggles to free itself.

<And thirdly, I should get pets, because the way this one screamed at me the entire way here practically made me want to kill her.> The cat glares at its paws before letting out a shocked <You talk to your mother with that mouth? … Jeez, forget I asked.>

“Ooookay. Why on earth would you bring… a toad… to me?”

Marcy gets a light chuff in response.

<I’m gonna let you go now, but you gotta stay still or so help me, I will put you in my mouth again and both of us will hate it,> the cat says to whatever’s in its grasp before pulling back to sit on its haunches.

And sitting in the middle of their kitchen floor is the grumpiest-looking toad Marcy has ever seen. It beeps at - well, she isn’t sure who. Perhaps about the situation in general.

“Aw, that was cute,” Marcy coos. The toad beeps again, somehow angrier than before.

Maybe it’s… injured somehow?

The toad puffs itself up rather defensively under their twin scrutiny.

Marcy looks.

Oh.

She lets out a long, low whistle. “That is one heck of a curse you’ve got laid on you, ma’am.”

<I found her just from the smell,> the cat remarks. <So strong, I tracked her for acres before I got to ‘er. Pain in the nose, really.>

The toad makes a high, affronted little noise at that.

<The curse is what smells, lady, not you!> A pause. <Well, we’re gonna try to help you out, okay?> The mind-voice is soft and reassuring, a blanket to Marcy’s frantic inner monologue even when it isn’t speaking to her directly, and there’s a rush of fondness that Marcy knows the other can feel through their bond.

Amber eyes meet hers again. <This here’s Sasha, and she’s a fellow businesswoman!>

“A businesswoman, huh?” Marcy muses. “Well, lucky for you, I’m never one to turn away custom-ah!”

Marcy loses her footing on the countertop, foot slipping off the edge and sending her toppling face-first toward the floor. The cat dashes forward, surging upward, form growing and shifting and eyes alight with blue until -

A strong, sure arm wraps snugly around her waist, steady and tanned from the harvest sun, while its opposite spans across the backs of her shoulders. Marcy gazes up at her savior, taking in familiar mahogany-colored curls and onyx-dark eyes and full, grinning lips.

“Careful there, darlin’,” Anne says with a wink and a smirk, and Marcy can feel her face heat a bit.

“Ah.”

A leaf falls out of Anne’s hair. Marcy sends it back into place with a flick of her finger and a wink of her own, tucking one of Anne’s wayward curls behind her ear.

Anne splutters, and something sun-yellow and impossibly affectionate fills the cavities of Marcy’s chest. She presses their hands together, a habit-turned-spell, and she feels practically incandescent with the feeling, like she could-

<What the fuck are you guys supposed to be?> A new voice, steel-sharpened and moon-cold, breaks through Marcy’s mind and thus, the moment as well.

Oh. Right. The toa- the girl.

Marcy quickly clears her throat, untangling herself from her partner’s arms even as Anne mentally whines at her.

“Well, Miss Sasha, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Marcy Wu, and I’m a witch!” She exclaims with a dramatic bow and flourish. Sasha somehow seems even less impressed - it’s truly a marvel that she can express such an emotion with a toad’s face.

She gestures to the woman beside her, who rests a calloused hand on her shoulder. “And the lovely lady who brought you here is Anne, my loyal familiar.”

#i *did* say i would post this blurb tonight but i didn't expect it to be this late. guess it's before midnight somewhere though skdbfkabds #i'll rb this again at a more reasonable hour tomorrow 😅#gold star to those of you who put two and two together from missa's artworks!#and gold star to you if you're reading these tags <333 #anyway this concept is so fun and i'm having SUCH a good time with it. hope you guys do too 🥰🥰🥰#happi scribbles #fic #cartoons #amphibia #marcanne #ccc au #gotta love some good witchy vibes am i right???#long post

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wipethetape · 1 year

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Ava finding out that you were this game streamer she secretly likes but won't tell pt. 2

Ava Coleman x Reader

A/N: much longer. basically oneshot disguised as headcanon because im bad bad (literally bad at writing)

1 - 2 (you're here!) - 3

When you get home, you start to regret what you just did.

You're about to stream for less than 30 minutes because you posted that you would be finally back after being gone for a week because… Abbott being the public school that they are.

You tried sucking everything up, gathered yourself, and grabbed some food before going live.

While the live is ongoing, your comments are the usual questions of when are you doing a reveal, or when would be your next schedule because they always miss you.

Remembering the interaction earlier at the break room, and also checking your calendar to see that there would be a game convention in less than two days, you responded spontaneously.

"If I get two 150,000 star balloons then I might reconsider that." You giggled before focusing back on the game.

Someone sent the gifts while you were trying to clutch win the game, so you didn't notice how the comments were raving about your reveal.

After winning, you checked the comments to see that someone really sent what you said.

You internally panicked, but since you did this to yourself, you guess you don't have any choice. You tried sounding as cheery as possible when you announced that you'll be live at the upcoming game convention so you hope everyone else will be there too before ending the stream.

When you arrive at Abbott tomorrow morning, you see Jacob talking to Melissa about the game convention, but the poor guy is getting ignored because Melissa doesn't have her coffee yet.

You didn't go to the break room during lunch because you were too scared to see Ava. Things were starting to hit. What if your fans get disappointed? How will you face everyone at work? How will you face Ava?

So you decided to just take a nap in your classroom.

When you woke up minutes later to get your kids after recess, everyone seems to be gathering together in front of Janine's classroom, with Ava approaching them.

She announces that she got everyone tickets to the convention, and that made everyone cheer.

She throws a wink at you, which didn't go unnoticed by your two mentors. You roll your eyes at her.

She goes on your side, teasing on how your favorite gamer is about to reveal her identity, implying it was your doing so she got you a ticket as well.

"Why you lookin' like that?" "Yeah, I look like Grinch who's about to ruin Christmas."

"Don't make fun of yourself. It makes it less fun for me when you do it. And who told you that? You look damn good under me in my bed." "And yeah like you will."

Ava falters. "Right because my bed's too precious for some gagootz like you."

You look at her like she grew another head, then gave a quick questioning glance to Mel and Barb who were looking aghast in your direction and heard Ava as well.

Few more bickering and the happenings became all blurry. You just know you retorted with some shit you don't remember

And now you find yourself in trouble on a deal of having a chance to date dinner with Ava.

#abbott elementary #ava coleman #ava coleman x reader

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saldziakrauje · 7 months

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I haven't seen anyone else do it before, so here's every line of dialogue from the characters in Alterna. (Atleast, every line that I could find. If I discover more, I'll update the post) Some of Cuttlefish's dialogue in the Crater repeats in Alterna. I've marked the ones that repeat in bold. All dialogue gathered after beating the main story and After Alterna. Dialogue under the cut, it's a long post:

The Crater Cuttlefish: • "I've said it before and I'll say it again... Ink before you think!" • "You eatin' well these days? Don't go into battle hungry, y'hear?" • "You can't spell WIN without IN, and you can't spell INK without IN either. Just sayin'." • "That Fuzzy Ooze is trouble. Don't touch it unless you wanna spend the next 10 years shavin'"! • "Go on, now. Give those Octarians a fresh coat of paint for me!" • "(Ugh, my achin' back...)" • "... ... ... GYAH! I wasn't sleeping. That was just tactical eyeball moistening, y'see?" • "(I sure wish someone woulda told me about moisturizer when I was younger...)" • "(Yesterday's lunch was mighty tasty. Maybe I shoulda brushed my teeth a bit more carefully...)" • "It's nice that you got your li'l buddy with you throughout all...this." • "How can I help you, Agent 3? Need another pearl of wisdom?" • "(What I wouldn't give for fresh crabby cake now...)" • "When you're throwin' Smallfry, hold down [R] and take your time. Know before you throw!" • "Don't let steel grates and fences ruin your day. Press [ZL] and squidaddle right through 'em!" • "When all of this is over, maybe we oughta think about some security for the Great Zapfish..."

Future Utopia Island (Squid Sisters Camp) Agent 1 (Callie): • "You were like a rock star out there fighting in space! And Smallfry was your backup dancer!" • "Don't be shy with your ink! Splat everywhere, fill up your [Upgrade Point] gauge, and you'll get Upgrade Points!" • "Agent 2 doesn't think I should drive the rocket. But what do YOU think, Agent 3?" • "Hey, do you have a favorite Squid Sisters track?" • "Did you know you can jump back to any previous kettles directly from the menu?" • "Ooo! I had something else I wanted to say, but I forgot. Don't you hate that?" • "Have you been upgrading your Hero Gear? Could come in handy, especially for golden kettles." • "If they can dehydrate Gramps, surely we can REhydrate him somehow...right?" • "You're "supposed" to sneak behind the shielded Octarians, but I like to just BLAST 'em!" • "Just to say it out loud... Thank you for joining the New Squidbeak Splatoon, Agent 3!" • "...Wait-did I say that already?!" • "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?" • "Wait. Did we have this exact conversation, or was that all just a dream..." • "The more Fuzzballs and Fuzzy Ooze you destroy, the more you'll fill up your [Upgrade Point] gauge!" • "Who would've thought there'd be ANOTHER rocket?!" • "Oh! But maybe I told you that already..." • "You'll need plenty of power eggs to register for the missions inside silver kettles. Keep 'em handy!" • "Hey, is it snack time yet? You hungry?"

Captain (via Agent 2): • "Hey, Captain! Captain? You still with us?" • "Just overheard the Captain feeling nostalgic. "I remember when Cap'n Cuttlefish gave me this hat..."" • "New orders! The Captain says, "Go get Agent 2 a latte." Nah, I'm kidding. Although if you see one..." • "Rule of the battlefield from the Captain: "The first enemy you see is usually a scout."" • "Rule of the battlefield from the Captain: "Don't sleep on your sub weapon. It might be just what you need!"" • "Hm? Captain? Did you say something? Oh. Guess not..." • "Rule of the battlefield from the Captain: "Ink before you think..." Wait-is that backward?" • "Rule of the battlefield from the Captain: "Swimming on a wall? Hold [B] to do a Squid Surge. Don't stay still!"" • "Quick update... I just overheard the Captain say, "Wow! There's a LOT going on in the New Squidbeak Splatoon."" • "Hey, just checking something. Can you hear the Captain's voice?" • "A quick tip from the Captain: "Sometimes defeat is the best teacher." I feel like I've heard that one." • "Rule of the battlefield from the Captain: "Always have a safe place to retreat to before you start shooting."" • "Rule of the battlefield from the Captain: "Always keep one eye on your escape route!"" • "Rule of the battlefield from the Captain: "Don't let your guard down just because you're at the top!"" • "The Captain says, "Get your gear in gear. Battle can come at any time!" Good advice, I say!" • "Rule of the battlefield from the Captain: "If things get too hairy, duck behind a wall and take a breather."" • "Rule of the battlefield from the Captain: "If you can't push forward, try pulling back first."" • "Rule of the battlefield from the Captain: "When it's do-or-die, you can always count on your Splashdown!"" • "Fresh wisdom from the Captain: "The best victories come from not having to fight at all!"" • "Rule of the battlefield from the Captain: "Keep an eye out for bombs in odd places. You never know!"" • "Rule of the battlefield from the Captain: "Use [Right Stick] to look around! Keep that head on a swivel!"" • "Rule of the battlefield from the Captain: "Always look both ways before you cross.""

Agent 2 (Marie): • "Have you noticed that the walls are meant to look like the sky? Just like in the Octarian bases!" • "You think being the boss is fun? Then you can review these Deep Cut expense reports..." • "If your Hero Suit takes a hit, into the ink you must get! Is that how the saying goes?" • "You'll need plenty of Sardinium to upgrade your gear, so keep an eye out for it." • "That look in your eyes... I know someone else with the exact same look!" • "(It's so awkward when I run out of things to say. Save me, Callie!)" • "(I wonder if Agent 3 can sing... We could use a BACKUP backup vocalist...) • "(What am I, the spokes-agent for everyone?)" "(The Captain could chime in once or twice, if you ask me. Yeesh!)" • "(I did not dress appropriately for this apocalypse...)" • "(Wait-why am I standing? I could totally sit down.)" • "I wish I could read all of the strange writing around here..." • "Gramps sure is spry for being so...well...dry." • "You'll check in on Agent 1 every so often, won't you? Just so I don't always have to do it..." • "(Ooo! I just thought of a great idea for a podcast.)" • "We've gathered all kinds of data, but nothing prepared us for what was down here..." • "I'm here if you want to talk about anything with someone who's barely paying attention." • "What do you like to do in your spare time, when you're not splatting or being splatted?" • "(Mmm, I could really go for a slice of pineapple pizza, hold the pineapple...) • "(Is Callie getting this much small talk?)" • "(I could use a vacation at the end of this. No, wait... A leave of absence!") • "You've turned out to be quite the Agent 3, Agent 3! Very nicely done." • "Who is running Grizzco Industries these days? It's business as usual, even now!" • "It's so smart how they preserved vegetable life down here! (But they should have let tomatoes go extinct.)" • "You're not the first Agent 3, Agent 3. Once upon a time, Gramps recruited the Captain!" • "If I'm twirling my parasol, that just means I'm thinking." Cuttlefish: • "You know you can configure the doodads and whatnots on your Hero Gear, right? Look at the menu!" • "That look in your eye... it's still the look I was looking for. The look never lies!" • "How's that Hero Suit treatin' you? You ever get around to washin' it?" • "Heh heh... Still can't believe ol' Octavio turned out to be not so bad. That rascal!" • "Didja know your gear can give Smallfry an upgrade too? And doesn't your li'l buddy deserve it?!" • "(Still not sure how they sun-dried me while I was underground...)" • "(Oof, my achin' back... At least, I think that's my back...)" • "This aint so bad. But I miss my tropical shirt! Think I can get one in XXD? Extra-extra dehydrated?" • "It's nice that you had your li'l buddy with you throughout all...that." • "Whaddaya like to eat these days, kiddo? Food? Are kids still eatin' food?"

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #return of the mammalians #callie #marie #captain 3 #agent 3 #craig cuttlefish

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