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shybunnie20 · 1 year ago

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Eddie Munson x Alt!Fem!Reader

★Teaser ★My Masterlist

Summary: Eddie seeks Steve's assistance in wooing you, but it doesn’t go the way he planned.

Author's Note: This was so fun to write! I don’t think it turned out particularly angsty tbh. There's a little bit of Halloween in it, 'tis the season.

Proofread to an extent. 90s AU with no Upside Down. No use of Y/N. Reader is vaguely depicted: wears black, has tattoos and piercings (no amount or locations indicated for either), enjoys spooky movies, and likes metal music. Happy ending!

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: brief mention of alcohol consumption, includes more swearing than usual

The sun hangs low, blowing kisses of dusk through the streaky panes of Family Video. Inside the store, the sporadic popping of kernels sets the tone for the evening shift.

When it comes to this job, unboxing shipments of snacks is the one task that manages to hold Eddie’s fleeting attention, simply because it gives him an excuse to wield a box cutter. Alas, today is not one where a shipment has been delivered. He’s more or less getting paid to hang out and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Leaning beside the register, Eddie lazily flips through a dated issue of Rolling Stone magazine. He’s not even reading the articles, just skimming the pictures.

In the documentary section, Steve is busy restocking the shelves. “I heard Keith’s giving out a plaque for 'Least Productive Employee' this year. If ya ask me, I think you’ve got Robin beat.”

“That’s debatable,” Eddie licks the pad of his finger and flips the page. “You’ve got it handled, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but there’s plenty of stuff that needs to get done before we get slammed tonight.”

“I’m doing my part,” Eddie raises his head and a smirk slowly overtakes his bored expression. “Someone’s gotta keep the front counter company. It gets lonely.”

“Aw, how touching. Of all things, you’ve found true love with a piece of furniture,” Steve scoops up the bucket of go-backs and sidesteps to the neighboring genre. “That’s gotta be the closest thing you’ve ever had to a relationship.”

Burn, but an accurate one. Eddie isn’t a Casanova but there’s nothing wrong with that, not at all. He’s got his hobbies and friends, what point is there in trying to convince the town that he’s up for a little romance? Besides, the absence of encounters means that flirting isn’t in his wheelhouse.

Eddie looks down at the face of his Casio, reading that it’s nearing seven o’clock. “Hey, do we still have a copy of Beetlejuice around?”

��I doubt it. All of the spooky shit has been going like hotcakes since Halloween is right around the corner.”

As customers trickle through the door, Eddie shifts to the computer system and types hurriedly on the keyboard. “Fuck, it’s gotta be here,” He abandons the register and searches the store.

Steve opens a case and snaps it closed, entirely oblivious to the commotion until Eddie whizzes by in his peripheral vision. “Okay, this is a whole new level of obnoxious,” Steve huffs. “Why are you so hell-bent on finding that specific movie?”

“Because she’s probably gonna wanna rent it, and if we don’t have it…” Eddie trails off as he flies by on the other side of the store.

“Cool your jets, turbo,” Steve notices that more people are coming into the store so he waves Eddie over. The last thing they need is a lawsuit because an old lady got plowed down. “Seriously, what gives?”

Wheezing at the end of the aisle, Eddie hunches over and bows his head. He grips his knees for dear life while he tries to catch his breath. “There’s this girl.”

Steve’s feathered brows mirror the nosey tone of his voice. “Who is it? Do I know her?”

“I doubt it,” Eddie coughs. “But she stops in every Friday night.”

“News flash, butthead. It’s the busiest day of the week, that’s not exactly narrowing it down,” Steve feels a creeping presence over his shoulder. Speaking of old ladies; he peeks, just to find an elderly woman encroaching on his personal space to view the titles that he’s blocking. “Sorry,” he says halfheartedly before directing his coworker toward the register with a toss of his head. “Is it Tara P.?”

“Nope,” Eddie follows and plops on the stool furthest from the computer. “She wears a lot of black, has tattoos, piercings-”

Steve shakes his index finger. “Okay, yeah, I know who you’re talking about now. She’s always dressed for a funeral,” He snorts.

“I know, isn’t it hot?” Eddie sighs dreamily while he tugs at his green coil key ring, stretching it as far as it’ll go.

“I mean, if you’re into that kinda thing,” Steve shudders dramatically. “Gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“I’m definitely into that,” Eddie gnaws on the soft pink flesh of his lips as he pauses. “There’s this aura around her, y’know? Not just her looks either, it’s her energy too.”

“Dark and brooding, huh? That’s what gets ya going?” Steve switches to his customer service voice as he checks out the elderly woman with minimal back and forth.

“Yeah, whenever she’s around my hands get all sweaty,” Eddie looks down at his large palms that are growing slick from discussing you. “She hangs out at the bar where I play. God, just seeing her makes my heart sing.”

He loses himself in thinking about seeing you at Wraith. You’re the only one that he strives to impress but he has yet to. You dance to other bands but not Eddie’s. Sometimes you nod your head to the beat, though it’s never enough for you to acknowledge his existence.

“Pass me a barf bag,” Steve gags. “Makes your heart sing?”

“Whatever, dude. It’s not like you’re gettin’ any action with your Harrington charm.”

“Excuse you,” Steve looks at Eddie pointedly. “I almost got that girl’s number on Monday, thank you very much. She was totally digging me.”

“Was she, though? ‘Cause she left without giving you her digits,” Eddie chuckles mockingly and tilts his head. “How many more times do you have to strike out before you finally throw in the towel?”

“That’s rich coming from the guy who canoodles furniture,” Steve scoffs. “Don’t come for my manhood. At least I have the balls to make a move.”

“So many moves, and yet, so few takers!” Eddie throws his head back and laughs boisterously.

“Put a sock in it,” Steve groans.

Speak of the devil. Eddie spots you walking into the store, just as you always do at this time. “Oh god,” He gulps and his joints lock, freezing time and space simultaneously. His mouth is slightly agape as the world comes to a standstill. His vision narrows to a tunnel, rendering him deaf and mute.

Steve snaps his fingers in front of Eddie’s face. “Jesus, man. Try to act somewhat normal,” he rolls his eyes. “If you even know how.”

Eddie does not know how especially not after being literally snapped out of his trance. His palms are clammy, his breathing is rigid, and he’s dizzy as all hell. “Look at her,” He whispers. Christ, you look so fucking pretty today.

“Are you trying to catch flies, dude?”

“No,” Eddie scowls, promptly tightening his lax jaw. “Fuck off.”

Steve takes notice of your figure moving down the aisle and turning in their direction. “Duun dun,” he begins to imitate the Jaws shark theme. “Duuun dun,” As you approach from the other end of the store, Steve gets progressively louder. “Dun dun dun dun dun-”

“Quit!” Eddie barks through gritted teeth and kicks Steve’s calf. “Don’t be an ass.”

“Ow, that was uncalled for,” Steve bends over to rub his leg in an attempt to soothe the ache.

“Jesus Christ! She’s coming over here,” Eddie paces in the cramped area, nearly colliding with Steve when he pivots. “What the fuck do I do? I don’t know how to be Mr. Cool Guy.”

With your chosen film in hand, you are in fact approaching the register. Steve’s voice becomes discernible as you get nearer. “...if you keep acting like such a wuss. Grow a pair and just-”

“Shut up! Shut it,” Eddie makes it appear as though he’s doing something productive to the snack display, but he’s really just shifting the packets of Skittles around.

“Just this,” you confirm by setting down the tape and digging into your purse. The atmosphere feels tense, to say the least. You’ve clearly interrupted something. It’s plain to see on the other employee’s tomato-red face.

Steve offers a straight-lipped smile and scans your membership card. “Find everything alright?”

You hum in response. While he carries on with the transaction, you notice how peculiarly still the other guy is. “Hello,” you greet him softly, hoping to ease the atmosphere.

Eddie’s hands come to a halt and he looks up at you with wide eyes. “Heh,” He meant to say “hey” but only the first letter made it out alive. As you pay for your purchase, his mouth is still moving and he doesn’t know why. “That’s a good one,” he gestures to the movie.

You startle inwardly, not having anticipated an actual conversation to start. He seems nice enough. “You’re a fan of scary movies too, I take it?”

Eddie nods timidly. He flexes his fingers to combat the overwhelming numbness that’s plaguing his hands. His heart is beating so goddamn hard that it’s on the verge of bursting through his chest and landing wetly at his feet. “Yeah, I like them. They’re good. Really good.”

“Agreed,” While you tuck your wallet away, a polite smile rests on your face. “I was actually in the mood for Beetlejuice but it doesn’t look like you have it,” Your smile falls ever so slightly.

The sight causes Eddie’s pounding heart to twist and plummet to his ass. He’d give you every copy on the planet if he could.

Steve listens in over the sound of your receipt printing. His brows arch in genuine surprise that Eddie knew you’d want that movie tonight. Creepy, but impressive nonetheless. “Sorry about that,” Steve tears the paper from the machine and hands it to you. “Maybe next time.”

“Maybe,” you nod, accept the receipt, and pick up the tape. “Have a good night,” you say to both of them and head out.

Once you’re through the doors, Eddie clutches Steve’s forearm to ground himself in reality.

“Ugh!” Steve yanks his arm away to escape the muggy grasp. “That’s gnarly, man.”

“Do you believe me now?” Eddie wipes his sopping palms on his jeans.

“Oh, I believe you, especially after witnessing that. I’m pretty sure Henderson has more game than you.”

Eddie returns to the stool with a plop. “Just kill me already,” he rubs his face, sighing. “Put me out of my fucking misery.”

“Don't threaten me with a good time,” Steve laughs to himself. “Anyway, back to Little Miss Dead Inside. What’ve you tried?”

“Nothing,” Eddie drops his hands and slouches in defeat. “I don’t think she even knows my name.”

“You gotta give her a reason to,” Steve continues conversing from over his shoulder while he checks out another customer. “What about notes? Y’know, old-fashioned love notes.”

Eddie scrunches his nose. “I dunno about that.”

“It’s right up your alley, Shakespeare. Besides, the ladies love melodramatic shit like that.”

Eddie suddenly perks up. “Wait, I could be totally anonymous! She could figure it out on her own. That way she comes to me and I don’t even have to approach her.”

“That’s not what I said at all.”

“This could totally work,” Eddie motions to Steve’s head. “Who woulda thought there’s a few marbles rollin’ around in there.”

“Ha-ha,” Steve continues to slowly but surely shorten the line. “Don’t think I’m helping you.”

“The hell you aren’t,” Eddie hops up on the counter beside the register. He swings his legs with newfound optimism and tears open a package of red vines. “You’re obligated to help since it’s your idea.”

“I absolutely am not, and I have no interest in being inadvertently bitten by some vampire chick. Leave me out of it.”

“C’mon, I’ll owe you big time,” Eddie begs with his mouth full of waxy candy.

“You have to clean the restroom for two weeks,” Steve declares with a smirk.

“No fucking shot,” Eddie points with a half-bitten licorice rope. “Pick something else.”

“Do you want help or not?”

Eddie did indeed want help, so he agreed to the bullshit terms and conditions. He can scrub a toilet, no problemo. Honestly, he’d polish a hundred of them with a toothbrush if that meant you’d step into his life. You’re worth cleaning toilets for.

After closing up shop for the night, Eddie sits at his desk in his bedroom until the early hours. He writes draft after draft, struggling to find words that are forward and inviting without coming on too strong right off the bat.

Upon your arrival the following week, Eddie is shaking like a leaf. He listens to your interaction with Steve while being partially concealed behind a tall cardboard cut-out. Despite not being able to see you, he can see your lips forming the words in his mind. Your voice alone is making him weak in the knees. Eddie’s certain that if you don’t hightail it out of here soon, they’ll buckle and his cover will be blown.

Once he’s certain you’ve left, Eddie releases the breath he’s been holding since you walked in. “How’d it go? She didn’t see you put the note in there, right?”

“Why are you even asking? You eavesdropped the whole time. Yeah, it went fine, she didn’t notice.” Steve grumbles.

“Okay, cool,” Eddie chews on his thumbnail. “Shit, what if she thinks it’s creepy? What if she thinks it’s the lamest thing ever? Fuck, what if-”

“Dude,” Steve closes his eyes and holds his hands out. “You’ve gotta stop.”

In the comfort of your home, you plop down in front of the VCR and open the case that holds the reels of this evening’s entertainment; a movie you’ve rented a few times before, but not enough that you could quote it. Instead of a hard plastic shell, your fingertips find wrinkled notebook paper. Your brows furrow as you inspect it, shredded pieces dangling from where it was yanked from the spiral binding.

You unfold it three times.

In the aisles of the video store, I've found a treasure unsurpassed. Not on the shelves, but in your eyes, I fell so fast.

It’s a prank, whatever the fuck this is.

Never in your life have you ever thought about Steve, like, at all. You’re aware of his reputation, that he apparently has the tendency to be douchey and arrogant. But the more you think about it, he’s nothing like that when you interact at Family Video. Maybe he’s not that judgmental and he sees past your midnight exterior. This note is stupidly genuine and endearing. Who would’ve thought he had it in him? Certainly not you.

That’s the thing, though. Steve isn’t your type and you’re certainly not his. But you can’t recall a time when he’s ever looked at you like you’re some kind of freak. Most guys do, that’s something you’ve grown used to over the years and learned to ignore. This poem basks him in a new light, and you’re not quite sure how to process it.

Like clockwork, you’re back again but this time your chest is thrumming. The note could’ve been a fluke or maybe it was meant for someone else, you’re not entirely sure. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to be the intended recipient. Right now, it would be ideal to appear composed but you’re already wearing an unusual expression—a pleasant one—while you make your way to the drama section.

Tonight, it’s Robin and Eddie holding down the fort. As your combat boots scuff across the forest-colored carpet, Eddie can feel your arrival in his bones. He’s immediately seeking you out and when he locates you, he just about faints. Admiring from afar while manning the register, his mind races. Kissing is what’s on the curiosity menu tonight. Eddie wonders what flavor of toothpaste you prefer. If he could just get a little taste…

You meander your way around the shelving and through the dotting of customers. Eddie snaps his head in the opposite direction to avoid being caught staring. The sudden motion causes a pinch in his neck and he winces.

Lost in his own little world for a minute or two, Eddie’s attention is violently brought forward when you place a tape down in front of him. He buffers, noticing how you look subtly disappointed all of a sudden. He can’t imagine why, but he hates it with every cell in his body. Eddie fails to greet you and instead, he stares at your wine-painted fingernails as they tap the surface of the case.

“Is he not here?” You glance around with a lack of determination.

“Steve? Er, no. He called in sick,” He clears his throat harshly, all of the moisture drying up in his mouth by the millisecond.

“Oh, okay,” Over your other shoulder, you admire the new promotional display that was put out during the week.

Eddie seizes the opportunity to slip the second note into the case. His hands viscously tremble despite his best efforts to steady them. “Not to worry though, I can check you out way better than that walking hairdo,” Stop while you’re ahead, man. “Ring you up, I mean. I can ring you up better… than him.” Jesus fucking Christ.

“You’ve got quite the mane yourself,” A smile blooms as you look into the chocolate pools he has for irises. “I like your curls,” You can’t help but softly giggle at how bug-eyed he goes at your compliment.

“Uh, thanks,” Eddie bites back the cheek-splitter of a smile threatening to form. His trembling hands tingle unbearably from being able to make you laugh, despite not knowing what he did to earn it. He grabs a packet of M&Ms from the rack and slides it across the counter to you. “Here, free of charge.”

Your tightly sewn brow is accompanied by a slight pout. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Nonsense,” Eddie insists. “Everything’s on the house.”

“Is this some loyalty reward thing you guys do now?”

“Right on the money,” Eddie winks.

“Sweet,” you chirp. It’s as though your spirit has been replenished by saving a few bucks. “Do I get one of those little punch cards? I love those things.”

With the way your eyes are shimmering over a stupid piece of paper; Eddie would build you a house made of punch cards if that’s what you wanted. “Yeah,” he searches aimlessly. “But, uh, we haven’t gotten them yet.”

Your gaze finds his name tag and then returns to his flushed face. The corner of your mouth quirks as you notice the faint freckles dotted across his cheeks and nose. “Okay, well, thank you, Eddie.”

“No need to thank me, I should be thanking you! You’re a valued customer,” he exclaims. “My favorite of them all!”

“If you say so,” you exhale with amusement and turn to leave. “See you around.”

Eddie holds his palm open as a farewell gesture until you’re out of sight. He then brings his hand directly to his forehead in a ruthless smack. “You’re my favorite customer,” He mocks himself in a nasally voice.

With the press of a button, the register drawer launches open with a thunk. He nonchalantly retrieves his wallet, plucks out a five-dollar bill, and tucks it under the stainless steel clip to pay for your “free” movie and candy. Eddie finds Robin staring at him with a knowing look on her face. “Not a fucking word, Buckley. Not a word,” he glares, to which she throws her hands up in defense.

You couldn’t possibly wait until you got home to see if there would be another note. As you hop into the driver's seat of your car in the parking lot, you find an identical piece of folded paper. Your heart pitter-patters with the assumption that Eddie is in on it and he did Steve the favor of delivering this one for him.

With your illuminating smile, Baby Ghoul, you're the moonlight in my darkest night.

This note takes you by surprise for a different reason. It feels far more personal to be bestowed with the cutest goddamn nickname you’ve ever been given; ghouls are so metal. You obsessively reread it through the duration of your movie, while you brush your teeth, and as you lay in bed. You’re swooning over each messily penned letter, memorizing the spots where the ink drags and smudges.

It’s a bit difficult to imagine Steve saying this to you, but your insides are lurching at the thought. You hold the note to your chest and squeal.

The following visits are heavenly. Eddie loves seeing you bounce around on the balls of your feet like you’re on cloud nine. It’s becoming damn near impossible to fight the urge to smile because he knows that you’re looking forward to his imminent written affection.

Note after note, confidence simmers in his belly from seeing how the expression of his feelings is affecting you. To know that he’s the reason you’re glowing like this is turning his brain to pudding. Not tapioca, though. Ew.

With wide puppy dog eyes and a glossy lower lip, you present your past-due rental to Steve. He sucks his teeth, crosses his arms, and scolds you playfully. You successfully get out of paying the fee by simply batting your lashes at him.

Steve is eating this shit up. While you might not be his flavor of choice, he’s suddenly feeling open to sampling the femme fatale vibe. You’re beautiful, he wouldn’t waste his breath denying that. Not to mention, you’ve got a great sense of humor, considering you’re laughing at his awful jokes. That’s something he will admit—they’re bad.

Eddie doesn’t have to hear the conversation to know what’s unfolding. He feels like he’s gonna hurl when Steve leans down to shorten the distance between the two of you. He's supposed to be the middleman, not stealing Eddie’s thunder. In hindsight, there haven’t been any hints at his identity and Eddie’s been too chicken shit to give them to you except for the other day when he had no choice.

To put it simply, he’s torn. Eddie wants to scream that he’s your admirer, that he’s the one who dreams of you, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He can’t possibly reveal that it isn’t dashing Harrington who’s pining for you, but instead, it’s the dork. That would be a world-crushing level of disappointment.

This deal turned out to be a massive ego boost for Steve. The conversation is easygoing and it quickly progresses past small talk. The best part is that you haven’t even mentioned the notes. You think he’s some poet when in reality, he doesn’t even have a clue of what they say. You’re smitten without him having to bend over backward to impress you. He’d be nuts not to take advantage of it.

During closing time, Eddie stomps around while collecting the flimsy trash bags full of receipts and candy wrappers. For the past hour, he’s been pondering ways to “take care” of Steve. Sadly, it would be tricky to avoid raising suspicion if he suddenly disappeared, but hey, a guy can dream.

After dishing the silent treatment all night, Eddie finally speaks up. “You think you’re pretty clever, huh?”

“What?” Steve briefly looks up from counting the cash drawer.

“Cut the crap. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Eddie drags a clunky vacuum out of the cramped utility closet and unwraps the lengthy cord.

“It’s not that serious. Look, it’s not my fault that she’s into me.”

“Is all that hairspray finally soaking into your brain? She’s not into you,” Eddie growls, throwing the canary-colored cord to the carpet. “She likes the person who’s writing to her. Last I checked, that’s me.”

“Yeah, but she thinks it’s me,” Steve shrugs. “She’s happy, I’m happy. I don’t see a problem here.”

“The problem is that you know how I feel about her,” Eddie retorts while staring daggers. “The shit you’re pulling is really fucking unfair.”

“Life’s not fair, buddy. It’s not like you’re gonna do anything about it.”

“We’ll see about that,” Eddie mutters, clenching his jaw as he turns around to plug in the vacuum.

“Will we?” Steve snickers. “I don’t think I’ll live to see the day.”

It’s Saturday night and Eddie’s praying to every conceivable higher power that you’ll be here. You don’t come to Wraith every weekend, but when you do show, he’s nothing short of a nervous wreck.

He peeks out from behind the velvety black curtain of the concrete stage. Eddie’s heart stops when he finds you in your usual booth. You look hot, so so hot. It’s already hard enough to perform in front of you but when you look like this? Oh, brother.

Every year, you look forward to coming here on Halloween. Your friends have gone all out with their costumes and the hours you spent getting ready were well worth it. The typical dark and dingy ambiance is heightened by the plastic skulls and bones strung from the ceiling. Your drinks emit wisps of dry ice fog and each table has a bowl of candy.

Seated at the end of the booth, your eyes drift from your drink to the floor. There you find a pair of dirty white Reeboks. Your gaze travels up the lanky figure shrouded in navy coveralls.

Eddie twists his ring around the base of his finger and the glide is effortless, thanks to the premature perspiration. “Hey.”

“Uh, hi,” your expression reflects a mix of hesitance and confusion, though you maintain a kind demeanor. “Eddie, right?”

“Yeah,” She remembered my name. Eddie motions to your getup. “I like your costume. Elvira, right?”

While you may not be sporting a ceiling-high black wig, your costume is unmistakable. “Right on the money,” you flash a pert grin, quoting him from the other day. “And you’re a…”

“Supposed to be Michael Meyers,” he clarifies, pulling a plastic knife from his oversized back pocket. “The mask was too hot to wear so, I guess I’m a killer repairman?” Max’s borrowed mask was indeed suffocating.

“Or a plumber who secretly dreams of being a professional chef,” you shrug, your irises glistening with humor.

Okay, so far so good. Talking to himself in the mirror for an hour is really paying off because he’s not a bumbling idiot for once. He could be imagining things, but it looks like you’re leaning closer. Maybe you’re just trying to hear him better over the music. He shouldn’t be overanalyzing your body language but it's the only thing keeping him vertical.

Eddie wants to prove Steve wrong but most of all, he wants to tell you how incredible you are. He’s not sure that you’ll want to talk to him after this. You might be hurt when you realize that you’ve been misled and he’s not the one you want. There’s only one way to find out.

The sound of his band getting set up beckons him. “Show time,” Eddie shakes jazz hands with the toy knife still in his grip. Of course, he just had to make it weird.

While he’s playing through the usual set with Corroded Coffin, you don’t pay them any mind, per usual. Their final song is a new one. Eddie may lack the confidence to confess, but he’s gonna sing this with all of the moxy he’s got.

In this world of shadows, what else is there to do

Wanna explore life’s cemetery with you

Your haunting beauty tells no lie

The one thing I cannot defy

The familiarity of the lyrics floods your head. You look up and find his dark, gleaming eyes locked onto you. Your heart leaps in your throat as he repeats the verses. Eddie leaves no room for uncertainty, confirming that the lyrics are pulled from the notes you’ve received. The tone of his voice is raw and passionate as he sends his affection across the room.

As soon as he steps off stage, you’re on a mission to find him. He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to find you beaming at him. Eddie finally allows himself to do the same, all the while blushing with exhaustion and anticipation.

“Hey, again,” you stare down at your shoes and scuff them against the floor. “You sounded great up there.”

“Yeah?” he swallows hard. “You liked it?”

Your eyes snap back up to his. “All of it, every single word.”

“I’ve got like half a notebook’s worth of stuff like that,” Eddie chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “Is that weird?”

“Far from it,” you tilt your head toward the bar. “I’d love to hear what else you’ve got to say.”

Eddie hovers his hand over the small of your back to guide you through the crowd. “I’ll sweet talk you until the sun comes up, Baby Ghoul. Anything for you.”

Reblogs are greatly encouraged and appreciated! ♡

Consider reading From Bar to Billboard, I worked really fucking hard on it 🖤

★My Masterlist

★Tip Jar

tags:@nj01@tlclick73

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kaitaiga · 3 months ago

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Archie “Frost” Campbell HCs ❄️

Some random hcs that’s been sitting in my head for a while :)

Loves to have Tapas and chat with Joseph. Just catching up on life or any new developments.

The type to have 5 photos of his family but about 1000 of his cat, Vader 🐈‍⬛

Speaking of Vader, he is a very chatty cat. Struts around Archie’s apartment like he owns the place. Very clingy, always having his nose in whatever Archie is doing.

He drives a BMW F82 M4 in dark grey. Red interior.

I mentioned in his profile that he self-taught himself various mechanical and electrical engineering concepts, however he also taught himself programming too. In his spare time he likes to tinker and do various projects with Raspberry Pi.

I like the idea that once Archie joins Task Force Dagger, the rest of the members occasionally train him up with CQC. Archie isn’t particularly a great fighter. Sure he flies a fighter jet and all but without it, he’s stripped of the majority, if not, all of his power. The boys agree that SERE is just a baseline and that now he’s in TFD, he’s exposed to more risky situations. The real deal.

His clothing style sticks to neutral colours. He likes to wear quarter Polo zips, jeans, knit sweaters, vintage leather bomber jackets and converse sneakers.

He also likes to wear Ray-Ban Aviator sunglasses and a Casio G-Shock watch. RAAF x IWC watch for formal occasions.

For Archie’s birthday, Joseph gifted him a Lego Star Wars Republic Gunship set. Unfortunately as he was about to finish, Vader knocked it off the table and it shattered. It now sits unfinished in the corner of his room.

He secretly feels out of place in TFD.

Archie promised his grandfather that he’d be able to watch himself fly for the first time in whatever fighter jet he was given. It happened, his grandfather who was too weak to stand and was bound to his wheelchair still made it to the base, dressed in his old leather flight jacket from WW2 and cap watched Archie soar across the skies. With all the strength he had left and some help, he managed to give Archie one last final salute before he passed a few days later.

Archie prides himself on his cooking ability. He was so fed up with cafeteria food that he spent a great time learning to cook. He likes to have a nice glass of red wine with some jazzy music playing in the background as he does so. Oh, and a few candles to create a warm atmosphere.

His favourite food is a nice steak cooked ‘til medium well with roasted veggies, gravy, herb butter and chips.

On average, he drinks at least three coffees a day. Usually black or with two sugars and a dash of milk. He likes black tea too, his favourite being an Indonesian brand - Sariwangi - that was introduced to him from Daniel.

He wants two more cats: Luke and Leia, both orange cats. Unfortunately he doesn’t have the time or space currently.

#foreshadowing something? perhaps…#archie campbell #my oc #task force dagger #military oc #pilot oc #rich handsome nerdy cat dad pilot-#apologies I like to yap sometimes 👍🏻

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123moiaussi · 1 year ago

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This is why I save my cards and all the little hand written notes and drawings people made for me.

it's amazing how ordinary objects can become so significant to only the owner

#Casio speaks #Casio answers #ordinary things can have extraordinary significance to people #words

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hansolmates · 1 year ago

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honey tea | 02

banner by @theluttleprince

summary; hansol vernon chwe is crying at his doorstep like a taylor swift music video, and you’re for some reason there to help pairing; hvc / reader (f) genre/warnings; neighbors to friends, friends to lovers!au, slice of life, fluff, angst, tw—cheating, mentions of pregnancy related to cheating, profanity w/c; 1k a/n; *this will be a very noncommittal drabble series, i know this isn’t the return many were expecting but pls be gentle with me—unedited unplanned and all around chaotic impulses, you know the drill! take care drink water and have a wonderful week! [masterpost]

“And she has the audacity to come crying to me—me! I’m not even the father and I’m the one she’s stressing out!”

Is it possible to become inebriated over three glasses of honey milk tea? In your biggest sweater, your head pops out of the collar, nodding and humming at all the right spots. Who knew Vernon could be talkative? After all, he always seems perfectly content.

Your eyes blink rapidly over the next few hours, trying to absorb the movie-like play-by-play from Vernon. Nevermind that you have work in less than eight hours, or that Vernon ate more of your meal than you thought and you have to drink more and more tea to fill yourself up. Due to the fact that you’re drinking tea also guarantees you won’t be sleeping anyway, so it’s best that you call out of work now before it’s too late.

Just as you’re about to reach for your phone tucked into your sweater, Vernon breathes out, “Thank you.”

“Oh—oh no! It’s nothing,” you sound like a commercial as you say that, a smile that is a little too strained due to your tired eyes and caffeinated body. However, you still feel pity and there’s no sense in showing how you truly feel. “I’m glad you could talk about this with someone, sometimes it’s easier to talk about things when it’s between strangers.”

He neither refutes or denies your comment about being strangers, just hums contentedly as he tries to scoop up more honey from his mug. Vernon looks exhausted, molding himself between the couch with every minute.

Speaking of minutes, your eyes flit over to your My Melody clock hanging on the wall. At the center of My Melody’s belly, pink hands indicate the time is 12:01AM. Since starting your career, you run on grandma hours. Grandma hours mean being in bed by nine, otherwise you might as well throw the whole work day away.

You haven’t called out of work in awhile, so it’s okay. However, you’re ready to hit the hay and Vernon is dozing off on your couch. It looks like he’s trying hard not to go to bed, the caffeine finally wearing off his weary body.

Gingerly removing yourself from your seat, you grab the empty mugs and trash off the coffee table. “So,” you whistle, softly nudging Vernon with your toe, “I’m gonna get ready for bed, if that’s okay.”

“Oh, oh shit,” he jerks alive, swinging his Casio on his wrist and throwing your blanket across your cushions, “my bad, I’ll get out of your way.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it,” okay, maybe now you’re lying a little through your teeth, you are going to call out of work and he did eat seventy-five percent of your noodles, but this is definitely an off day. You’ve been waiting for things to go awry, especially when you’ve had a pretty good week.

Vernon is whirlwinding, throwing things in the plastic takeout bag and spilling chopsticks on the carpet. He’s not really helping, but he’s trying. You don’t have it in you to tell him to stop, so for a brief moment you close your eyes and pretend you’re in your bed.

However, instead of envisioning your bed, you’re thinking about Vernon having to step back into his apartment, where Yoojung would probably be waiting.

Or not waiting, if Yoojung is staying with the alleged baby daddy. You don’t know which is worse.

“Will you be okay?” Your words are short but filled with worry.

“I—I will be. Thanks, really,” Vernon doesn’t even look at you as he throws himself together. He launches all the trash in your metal bin, cheeks puffy and pink as he runs to the front door to slip in his shoes. He doesn’t even untie the laces, just jabs his feet in the sole. “Okay, I’m good. I’m good, uh, bye!”

Uh, bye?

The door closes, and as soon as he leaves, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

As soon as he’s gone hits you like a trainwreck, and you’re out before you hit the pillow. You dream of Vernon, crying alone, and you an arm’s length away. You’re worried, but don’t know where to go from here. I mean, wouldn’t it be awkward to approach him after all of that?

It seems like life knows where to go, and you’re hanging on for the ride.

Your blackout curtains are probably the best investment you’ve made on the apartment. It really does make you feel like you can sleep for hours and hours without feeling bad about being a bum. Unfortunately blackout curtains are not soundproof, and nothing could dispel the horrid banging that’s been happening for the past hour. No, not sexy banging. Like shaking the ground, someone is moving a refrigerator down two floors banging. It’s loud, very loud. This shocks you because your neighbors have never been loud since you’ve moved in.

There’s a vibration throughout the apartment which reverberates through the hard frame of your bed, giving you no choice but to get up to figure out what the commotion is all about. Someone has hung up something in the wall connecting yours (maybe a mounted television?) and either dropped it or something because it��s making you anxious.

It’s 6:01, and you’re stuffing your feet in your hot pink Crocs, hunched over as you step out into the hallway.

“Oh, hi neighbor.”

Turns out, your neighbors are never loud because you never had neighbors to begin with.

Your landlord pops up, Jihoon jerking a head to the person behind the door frame. “Meet your new, or old neighbor, Vernon Chwe,” he says blandly, with a straight face indicating that it’s also way too early for him to be awake.

Vernon, who is still wearing the clothes you saw on him hours before, waves shyly from his (new!) empty living room.

#vernon x reader #svt x reader #svt fanfic #vernon fic #svt fic #seventeen fanfic #svt imagines #svt fluff #vernon

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m0llygunn · 10 months ago

Note

Can we have a sneak peak of chap 2 BWB?

yes we can!! almost 600 words of sneakily peeking, enjoy!! (also i think we need a consensus on the name cause its already been called so many things, which i acknowledge is my fault because of all the unnecessarily fanciful parenthesis lol but i've been using fwbb (friends with baby benefits), if chill lmk

───── ⋆⋅୨୧⋅⋆ ─────

“It’s almost nine now, so it’ll be ready at…”

“9:20,” you say when Eddie takes a concerning amount of time doing the math. The ride home was quiet. Being out of the fluorescence helped your nerves, and as you got further and further away from the pharmacy, and closer and closer to Eddie’s place, you started to feel normal again.

“I knew that, I was just… thinking,” he responds. He sits up from where he was crouching in front of the dresser, using it as a table to put together the test.

Decidedly, it was just nerves that had put you on edge, that’s it. The test is nothing but precautionary, just to rule out what could have made you sick. Eddie joins you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Uh— before, we get a response,” he pauses, wringing his hands together. His eyes move down to his lap and your chest tightens. “I just want to say that whatever it is… I don’t regret what we did… and whatever it is, I’ll be there… for my girls.”

He looks at you, his smirk widening by the second, and you can’t help the snort of laughter from escaping. Like every other ill-timed joke that he's pervasively told over the last month or so, he gets you, and you appreciate it this time as it lessens the gnawing feeling in your belly.

Despite the joke, when you really look at him, with his lips spread in a smile, his eyes swarm with the same trepidations that you feel. He’s a comedian but even the comedian is human. You try your hand at lightening the mood.

“What if it’s not a girl?” you ask, playing along. He smiles, bumping his shoulder into yours as he huffs a breath from his nose. Shaking his head in an almost mirthful way, you think you were successful, until his demeanour drops into something serious.

“What did you mean earlier?” he asks, “When you said that it doesn’t feel like you ate something bad?”

“I just— I don't know. I just, I thought I had a feeling,” you explain. Eddie hums, eyes now set forward on the test. “I think I was just nervous, that’s all.”

Twenty minutes has never felt longer. Eddie accepts your answer at face value but doesn’t do much to show it. He doesn't do much in general, and neither do you. At the ten minute mark, his hand found your knee. At the fifteen minute mark you were curled under his arm, resting your head on his chest as he rubbed up and down your arm. In the last minute, you had taken his hand in yours, playing with his fingers as you watched the seconds tick by on his casio watch.

9:19:59 turned to 9:20:00, and you turned to Eddie. Synchronously and in silence, you parted from each other. He stood and you sat. He moved to the dresser, and you held your breath.

With his back facing you, you watch with unblinking eyes as he reaches for the instructions. Humming to himself, your lungs ache. You try to parse the meaning behind his tone, or vibration, or pitch— or anything that could give way to what he's seeing, but it’s far too vague. Taking a deep and vital breath, filling your begging lungs with air, you're just about to ask what it is, mouth already open, lips already forming words, when he speaks.

“It says negative.”

“It says negative?” you parrot in disbelief.

“Negative.” Eddie answers firmly.

─────────

#fwbb #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic

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mchlgayser · 2 years ago

Text

𝐀 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐘 ft jude bellingham

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: It was a normal day, another day to go through but somehow becomes very special because of a certain someone.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff / ✮

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: none

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: That kind of trope I love so much + jude being the best guy he is!! I'm inlove 🤭🤭

You put on different dresses for you to wear. A simple white maxi dress, sleeveless and silky. An elegant red-wine dress, with a square neck, and puff shoulder. But after almost half an hour picking and throwing dresses out, you finally came out with a knees length of khaki-colored V-neck short-sleeve dress.

After that, you put on makeup and did your hair by letting it loose and coiling it a bit. You get your bag and put on your Casio brand watch, the one Jude got for you and him as your first-anniversary gift. Lastly, you put on your eggshell white square-toe heels.

The doorbell chimes and a loud voice of Jude are heard. He was knocking while chanting 'Y/n, Y/n' continuously. You jog over to the door and open it to see... Jude but with his complexion almost covered with a bouquet of Red Tulips. You were awed at the sight of him peeking his head from over the medium-sized bouquet and smiling 'Hey, precious! I got these lovely flowers, especially for you.' He handed you the strong aromatic bouquet and you thank him.

'Let's go!' He held your hand in his bringing you inside his Mercedes Benz and kissing your cheek 'I'm so excited to pamper you today!' You giggle at his exaggerated utterance but speak out nothing more nonetheless. The ride wasn't entirely quiet. The background music play chill songs from your playlist whilst Jude informs you about his practices and upcoming matches. More can you say, the ride was lively and comfortable.

As Jude arrived at the destination, he abruptly stopped the car and helps you get out of it even though you told him not to. The car is later handled by one of the employees as you two strutted inside the elegant-looking mall. Honest to say, this is the first you ever step foot inside the mall and you were not disappointed. The interior and all the branded shops never fail to gawk your eyes forward. You stare at Jude with half-quivering eyes 'Jude, I already don't like where this is going!' He laughs at you so that the corner of his eyes creases.

'It's fine, precious. Let me.' He holds your hand throughout the entire trip and brings you from one store to another.

'Alright, done warming up? Where you wanna go next?' He chuckles once more, seeing you looking around like a lost puppy as you mumble 'I don't know...'

He entered a Gucci shop and stroll around but stop momentarily once he spotted a black organ bag and immediately snatched it before the old lady as she sighed in defeat. He pay for it and left the shop with you 'Let me hold that for you...' He insists on pushing you forward and smiles, muttering 'I got this.'

He drags you around the other shops stopping by Prada and buying you a pair of heels and Dior to buy you a set of unisex perfume. His hands are full of paper bags from all sorts of different trademarks, his head held high as he brought the paper bag back with him and inside his car 'You gotta stop doing that.' You hit his arm playfully and he winces in pretended pain 'Ouch precious, is that your new habit of saying thank you, yeah?'

You blush and kiss the corner of his lip 'Thanks, Judy.' He hums reciprocates the kiss and smirks 'Gladly!'

It was a long ride, the sun setting building an unreal beauty of the dusky sky, the cloudy sky painted with orange and yellow hue colored horizon. This time the ride was utterly quiet but comfortable. Jude hums the song called Just the two of us to which you are glad he didn't sing it out instead or it's gonna turn out pretty bad, just kidding he's a splendid songster.

The ride eventually came to an end and the car stopped atop a hill. He came out first and open the car door for you 'Thank you...' You confess and join him on the wooden barrier around the edge. From above, you two could see the whole city, the skyscraper buildings, and the car fastly passing by. It was calming, even calming that the night sky and the moon accompany you both. The peaceful situation surrounded you two as you sat there without a word exchanging.

'Thanks for today even though I still don't get why you spent so much more than usual for me. Do you secretly ready an occasion for me?' You fool and wiggle your brows.

He laughs contagiously, hands rubbing on both of his thighs 'Nah, nothing special really...' His aura turns wary and cautious making you nervous 'You alright?' He nods still rubbing his thighs for a sort of consolation.

'C'mere' He ordered pulling you back from the edge and onto a bending tree 'Woah, this spot is even beautiful--'

'You can make this our particular spot?' You look at him in pure bewilderment 'You mean it?!' He chuckles, taking your hand in his and stroking the back of your palm, soothingly.

'But I have one more thing to do...' He announced suddenly taking off his hold on you and deeply letting out a sigh 'Okay... Here I go!' He fish something out from the back of his jeans pocket and the sight of a bright velvety box came to your view.

He slowly opens the lid revealing a silver ring decorated with a white oval diamond stone. 'This is not yet a proposed ring but instead a promise ring. A ring I vowed to take care of you. A ring you must carry with you all the time until the day I asked you officially to be my missis. A ring to show how deeply in love I am with you and only you. A ring to dead-tie our bond. A ring... I am custom-made only for you. It's one in a million?' You chuckle through tears at his last sentences before pulling him into a hug. He held you by your waist and your back swaying you in his arms left and right.

'Here... There...!' The ring perfectly fits into your ring finger and you grin 'It's gorgeous, thank you, Judy!' He pulls you into a hug once more and gives your head a chaste kiss.

'I love you, precious.'

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