#and i see all the stuff down the road from this part of the story
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If I got paid for my role as a Professional Crastinator, I'd be making bank, because I have never done a damn thing when I'm supposed to in my entire life.
STORY UPDATES COMING EVENTUALLY I GUESS I DON'T FUCKING KNOW (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻
#ramblings#i don't even know what to tag this#i'm just being generally useless again#i thought i was going to have an update out yesterday but then my brain was like#hey laura hey what about we don't do that#so then i didn't#and i played mobile games and listened to creepypastas on yt all night#and you know what#it was a good fucking time#but it didn't get me closer to getting over this hump i'm in storytelling wise#and i see all the stuff down the road from this part of the story#and it's good#it's good shit#i'm so looking forward to it#but i just gotta get through this one part#and i don't wanna#oh uh#gif warning#why do we warn for gifs btw?#is it a photosensitivity thing or like a bandwidth thing?#i do it because my usage of gifs will go unchecked if i don't remind myself not to do what i usually do#and spam that shit everywhere#you know what i could have written all of this in the main body of this post#but i didn't#because fuck you that's why#i'm sorry i didn't mean that#i love you#if you're reading my mental breakdown in the tags#i love the shit out of you#because you could have just kept scrolling
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tag rant but man i fuckin hate the new direction for loz
#its like. this is more on like. why is it bad that theres a zelda formula. why is it bad that all of the games follow this formula#that’s their identity??? like pokemon games and fire emblem games all have their own formulas so to say#and so thats their identity thats what you expect going in thats their niche their gameplay experience identity#and i just. really fucking hate how loz seems to be going the route of just. throwing shit at the wall and trying everything else#and nothing sticks so the more recent ones just feel like open world slop that dont excel at anything#so fuck this im going to play elden ring with a double jumping horse and great and challenging combat. i’ll play minecraft#yknow? and i dont understand why loz games feeling ‘similar’ is so fucking bad like???? every game series’ entries feel similar thats the#point yknow. if they suddenly made a fire emblem that was an fps for no reason other than to break convention and break away feom the#formula then what the fuck thats not even fire emblem any more. like. idk. i kinda just despise the newer stuff bc its so. middle of the#road whatever and has just about nothing i actually like and look for in the series. they dont have that niche identity any more#its a shift that just makes them like part of the open world white noise every aspect is honed down and done better in other games#its not like the formula causes every loz game to be really predictable or blend together fuck no#theyre still each very unique from each other even if they follow the same guidelines thats the fun???#like woah i wonder how the dungeons will differ what the new story and characters will be what new items#fucking hell boo hoo this game series’ games are similar to each other. almost as if they share the same central identity#absolutely just letting off steam and frustration here i hate when ppl treat the formula as a bad thing when it’s like. what makes them loz#like fuck its not like theyre exactly the same like i said theres a great deal of variety in what each one offers no need to just chuck it#all thats the kind of shit i come to loz for. i go to fire emblem for the specific leveling up strategy gameplay i go to pokemon for the#creature battling and specific world feel botw/totk just. do not carry with them the same signifiers of loz and they dont really have#identities beyond go do whatever the fuck which is not very compelling??? like can we at least commit to something here?#im yelling at shadows here im just. fuckin tired and feeling pessimistic abt this future of this game series whose core gameplay is one of#my all time favorites i really like the tightly designed linear-with-freedom dungeons and puzzles and world and all that#like the aesthetics changing is great and its fun to see different takes and tones on it but that core sense of things is like. The Point#of choosing to play loz yknow what i mean. like just bc its got ‘legend of zelda’ slapped on it doesnt gonna mean im gonna want to play a#vastly different experience if that makes sense. thats not the precedent thats not what you like. expect and associate with this#i feel like i sound like some entitled fuck abt this but like. is that tried and true style just going to be trashed in favor of this#honestly kinda bland everyman-ass style just bc it started to seem like it was getting stale. fuck this im gonna see what tunic’s about#likely delete later this was just a vent. ‘the zelda formula is a bad thing-‘ are you fucking serious rn#like hesitantly hopeful abt eow bc someone i know is excited for it so ill def play it but just. man
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this is gonna be very long winded so apologies in advance!
I’ve noticed that the readers ages of 16, 18 and 21 feel more important since they’re like a checkpoint for important parts of their lives. 18 is when they butted heads with their family more often, 21 is when they died and 16, well that’s the age that the returned to.
what would it have been say at 16 they were on autopilot so they went to breakfast and Alfred (and by extension the rest of the family ) didn’t realise something was off about them until later?
what if they returned at 18 instead of 16 when their relationships were more volatile with the bat fam?
or heck maybe at 21 a month, week, day or hour before getting shot- say if they were able to contact the police beforehand or at least call Alfred for help if they were shot but the last timeline warned them enough that they avoided lethal wounds?
(bonus: Bruce or the others - I’d expect Jason to pop up from a seedy alley- finds them after being shot and on the verge of dying, but they’re saved just in the nick of time)
(bonus bonus: they get greedy and kidnap surprise adopt multiple different versions of reader and their batfams go nuts because they “went missing”)
GRR come over here and kiss me on my hot mouth i'm feeling romantical also i will carress you for picking up on the age thing.. like damn u actually read my shi
masterlist
at sixteen, if you were to go to breakfast and act on autopilot! then congrats! you'd be able to leave (for a month). it'd be difficult because bruce wouldn't check on you so you couldn't ask him for funds. but if you were to ask alfred maybeee he'd give it to you, so long as you don't say what it's for, of course.
so then, you're living happily, peacefully even. for two months, you live your life like a normal person! until one fateful evening when you're casually lounging about -- someone knocks on your door. weird, but okay.
you open the door, and there stands fucking batman and robin just. standing there.
"we're here to--"
you slam the door on their face. now, because you've acted on auto-pilot, they didn't interact with you in the same way they did in the og story, so you're understandably confuddled. because? why the FLIP is your estranged family at your door?
over the course of the next few days, strange events occur. you go to the diner down the road to get some food and red hood slides into your booth wordlessy. you're walking home after going to the store and nightwing literally APPEARS and offers to carry your groceries. your phone's battery is mysteriously depleting fast, flipping orphan and spoiler show up at your school, hanging around.
worst of all, no matter where you go -- there's that bat-shaped shadow following you. if you look up, you'll see the outline of his cowl, and if you lock eyes he will swoop in, to save you -- of course! so keep your head down, savour your freedom for as long as possible but don't ever get too comfortable.
at eighteen? ooh i feel like a fly mischeviously rubbing it's hands together.
twenty-one year old you waking up eighteen, well, dare i say, it's better than waking up sixteen.
eighteen you had preemptively distanced yourself from the family for you. you're a legal adult, so you can work -- and best of all? (you can smoke ciggerattes) you have actual friends.
up until your eighteenth birthday, your every waking thought was on how to be better, to get better -- so with you becoming a legal adult -- well you understood that there isn't much for you to do anymore, you began to focus less on yourself and more on you. despite that, there was still the nagging feeling heavy in your chest that you'll never be accepted, never be apart of them -- there was a part that yearned for that acceptance, however late it maybe.
so your sudden disinterest wasn't alarming, not really. until you've finally found a good place, in a nice area. you're packing your stuff casually when bruce walks into your room for the first time in fuuck knows how long (because alfred asked him to).
"where are you going?" he is flabbergasted, but keeps a cool expression on his face as you give him the most diabolic side glare ever.
"i'm... leaving?"
lmao, no you're not! all of a sudden this calm procedure turns into a whole thing. give bruce the name of your landlord, he wants to see if they're good -- in fact, he can buy the house off of them so you don't have to pay a thing!
dick and jason are literally scanning every part of your new apartment, top to bottom, every single thing.
"this is not safe, these windows don't even have locks." jason sighs, analysing your windows with such scrutiny it makes you uncomfortable.
"this chain is broken! tut, tut, you can't live here!" dick adds on, ignoring the fact that the chain on your door is fine and that one chip on it won't get you killed.
tim begins to talk to you about finances, but he overexplains it using words you can't even begin to comprehend -- you're pretty sure he's doing it on purpose, what with the smug grin on his face.
"didn't bruce buy the building?" you ask, your eyes narrowed as you watch him scribble down numbers and whatnot.
"..no comment."
while those buffoons are doing that, you're being pressured by damian to stay.
"why must you leave? to live in a crappy old shack? just stay in the manor, it's safer for you." he's literally DOWN your neck with these types of comments. meanwhile, you're reeling 'cause what the fuck is going on?!
whether you give in or not is up to you -- just know, you will one way or another return to the manor.
as for the last one, let's say you get transported back five minutes before getting shock. which pisses you off 'cause what're you supposed to do in five minutes!?
nonetheless, you manage to get away with being shot once instead of five times, so you have enough energy to limp away -- and then you bump into red hood.
oh damn, oh damn, wow, so he's going to shoot you to -- or that's what you think, what you don't expect is for him to pick you up and literally shoot your offenders.
wow, okay.
you get taken back to the manor and you're literally reeling as they fuss over you, "how could you be out so late!?" this or "why do you need a job!?" that.
it's a shortcut to being locked in the manor, they take care of you like you're incapable, dick spoonfeeding you despite your protests, tim sitting silently besides you which makes you stress because he's so unnerving, cass hovering around you -- bringing you everything you need, sometimes you don't even realise you need it until she brings you a glass of water because you 'looked thirsty' (???).
this isn't just restricted to when you're recovering. you nearly died because of their negligence! so they pay extra attention to you, just so you don't get any silly ideas about walking gotham alone at night. honestly? what were you thinking, it's a good thing they're here to protect you.
(also side note ; the idea of jason being NEAR (name) when they died, but not knowing is so eghsudg to me, like he'll learn about where they died after finding the crime scene and he falls into a pit of despair because if he had taken the right route, if he had followed his instincts, he could have saved you.)
as for the last, last one. let's say you're a random variant of (name) from another universe and you've gotten transported without knowing it, you walk home morosely.
as you open the door, you are greeted with countless different versions of you -- all of them wearing the same expression of confusion. you don't know how to react when dick spots you and shouts, "we got another one"
guys if u sent an ask or request I WILL get them done.. i'm just being a lazy bum, thank u for the kind words tho everyone <3
#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#dc fanfiction#platonic batfam#platonic yandere#platonic yandere batfam#batman#yandere batman#yandere bruce wayne#yandere dick grayson#yandere jason todd#yandere damian wayne#yandere tim drake#yandere cassandra cain#cassandra cain#platonic tim drake x reader#tim drake#jason todd#damian wayne#dick grayson#platonic yandere dick grayson
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✧✦✧ Chapter 2 ✧✦✧
A New Reset, An Old Story
Yandere Platonic Bat Family x Neglected Regressing GN Reader
Warning this part contains: low qual English + corny/cringey usage of it, lots of cursing, emotional stuff, weird hallucinations, and bad editing I guess? was someone there before? Can someone pick me up? MC is being weird.
Note: a bit longer part this time
MASTERLIST Pages ↻ 1 , 3 ...➣
NOW PLAYING ↻◁ ||▷↺ Mona Lisa - Nat King Cole lıılıılılılıılıılı
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How do you act when you feel like your day keeps repeating?.
Would you be content? to just go with the flow? to memorize each of your steps, actions or words?.
Or, would you go crazy? lose your mind and sanity? to see red dancing on the edge of your eyes if you keep remembering the shit that keeps happening to you?.
I would, especially if you went through what I did, all effort I did just gone with one bullet from a gun, from a high fall, a kidnapping gone wrong, get killed by a villian, a sword, a freak accident or maybe just one very very bad day.
Gripping my seatbelt I wait for Commissioner Gordon to open the car's door and let me out, stepping out of the police car with it's siren and lights off, I stand on the graveled road that leads to the stone steps of the old and dark mansion I knew too well.
A little scribbles pops in my vision roughly drawings and crossings on the mansion as if it's giving it an evil and snarling look of a giant man eating beast.
The older man gently stir me up to the porch and I watch as he ring the doorbell - The tiny mean words and drawings floating around the door flew away from the sound - on the side of the giant doors as we wait for anyone to answer.
Tensing when I heard someone's familiar shoes thudding on the otherside of the closed entrance, I step back as I grabbed Gordon's coat and braced myself to put up a new face again.
'By now Alfred should open the doors and be surprised to meet us'. a little tiny voice said by my ear as they hide behind my back- peeking over my shoulder as if they were scared even though they're not the one confronting them anyway.
As soon as they're guess was right, I observe the old event unfolding in front of me seeing Gordon hand Alfred a manila folder and show him what I knew was my DNA test, citizen papers and profile inside.
I stare blankly at Alfred who looked at me with slight pity and worry after he heard that Gordon personally escorted me here because I was supposed to be relocated to my biological father custody more than a few months ago.
'Would have prefer to stay there as well but the broody asshole insisted on one of the last resets and got my hopes up just to go back to becoming #1 fucked up dad on my list'
'Yeah! he's such an asshole!' The voice pipe up with a snort and a laugh while leaning on my shoulder.
I turn back to Commissioner Gordon one last time as he drove off as I sadly wave goodbye from the door before side eyeing the butler who was already watching me.
"Would you like some tea young master?". He kneels down and hold out a hand to me.
I stare at his face as I see glimpse of scratches around the air and scribbles on his face - crude lines to circle around his only slightly older look - a wobbly arrow to point at the small cracks of wrinkles on the edge of his eyes and a small older doodle of him from my old memories comparing his age before a glitch switching between a golden halo to devil horns floated above his head.
Blinking two times suddenly everything turned back to normal as I look at him again properly and I study his white gloved hand before grabbing it in a practiced motion as I keep on with the old scrip that I memorize long ago.
Walking close to him I follow as we pass long dark hallways that was only illuminated the flashing of lightning during the current storm and a few dark oakwood doors each one seemed taller and more menacing than the last as we entered a fairly large kitchen that I grew to love and spent most of my time in before.
He led me to an kitchen island with a marbled top so shiny I can see my face's reflection clearly along with a few stool chair with actual leather covers and I carefully climb before proceeding to watch him prepare me a tea and some of his prized cookies.
While waiting I got lost in my thoughts as I re-assess on what to do in this reset.
'What do I do now? does it even matter?'
'Do we even matter?' the small voice questioned in my ear.
I remember the times I try to use the past knowledge I have to get closer to them but........
'nothing really works for us anyway' again they reply with a murmur and lean on my shoulder.
No matter how hard I try, everything I sacrificed, anything I do nothing happens, sure there were some................. progress but I always get cut off by another death.
'We're just born to do this shit all over again' they spit out now with anger in their voice while I hear their teeth grinding together and their sharp nails digging on my skin.
If nothing else works then.......
Looking down at my bandage hand filled with little doodles from the other children in the orphanage and some cute yet old sticky cartoon bandaids, I relaxed my small hands on the flat marbled surface and breathe out.
I got nothing to lose, 2790 resets made me understand how dumb and starved I am for attention and love.
'So hungry and leaving us Starving-!' They groan and wail in pain before vanishing away.
Snapping my head up I see Alfred gently pushing a nice steaming cup of tea in front of me as well as some cookies on a plate.
I slowly reach out and take the cup before blowing on the warm tea then taking a tiny sip and relish the hidden memories that this tea have brought me.
As I stare at my reflection I see it ripples as my hands shake and my body soon followed as I sniffled and hiccup, Alfred the ever gentleman that he is carefully took a hold of the tea cup as I cry finally cry out.
I cry till my eyes are puffy, I cry as let all the pain I have endured for so long, I cry out and childishly try to wipe off my snot as I asked for my mother to come back.
I cry because
I can.
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After finishing my tea and the cookies Alfred asked me if I wanted to wait for 'my father' before I go to my 'new' bedroom.
I see them in the corner as the shadows collects on that side and rise up to reach the ceiling 'They' shook their head and blared a large rough 'X' in the air then disappear with a flash of lighting coming through from the large windows.
"No,...... it's fine maybe tomorrow". I said looking down before turning up to Alfred and set my plan in motion.
"Mr. Alfred?". I asked as I gently tugged on his slacks making him look down to me.
"Yes young master?". He angles down to me as he put away the dried dishes.
I see 'their' wide and sharky smile behind Alfred's shoulder before popping back down his back.
"Can I stay with you?". I asked tightening my hold on him.
'From now on, nothing else matters except you.........If we can't get a family out of this shitty one then We'll make a new one' They murmur down while twirling a small baby hair on my nape.
But first-
We'll have to prepare for a little reunion.
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U I A U I A A U U I I A
Taglist later because I'm now entertaining food coma bleh *dies*
#No More Chances#yandere batfam#x reader#batfam x reader#yandere batfam x reader#yandere#yandere batman x reader#Yandere batboys#yandere Platonic#yandere platonic x reader#yandere alfred pennyworth
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The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) Part III
pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (y/n)
summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy".
note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons.
genre: social media au, angst, exes to lovers, happy ending
part i part ii
♥・*:.。 。.:*・゚♡・*:.。 。.:*・゚♥
Halloween, 2026
1st week of November, 2026
[Transcript of Y/N on the Graham Norton Show]
“Wow, Y/N L/N everybody, with “Jaded” from her new album “the Prophecy” that’s out next week - thank you, that was amazing.”
“Thanks so much, I was so nervous!”
“Nervous?” A giggle ripples through the audience at Graham’s incredulous expression. “Do you really still get nervous?”
“I do, yeah for special performances like this one, or Saturday Night Live in the States – it’s scary to sing on live TV!”
“Now, would you say that’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done?” Y/N doesn’t answer, just looks on warily. “Because it’s just been Halloween, and I heard that last year’s was particularly scary for you.”
“Yes, but only because I just wasn’t made for Halloween – I hate scary stuff, but have a very insistent slasher loving friend,” Y/N confesses, then moans in embarrassment, hiding behind her hands. “I can’t believe you’re bringing this up Graham, I’m gonna be so uncool after this.”
“It’s okay,” Paul Mescal chimes in from further up the red sofa, “I can’t watch horror or anything like that either.”
With a small, grateful smile, Y/N starts recounting a story. “Right?! But I have this friend who is obsessed, and she’s wanted me to go to a haunted house with her for ages. I fumbled my excuse last year, then got dragged into it. It was awful. I went in holding Sabrina’s hand, but then that traitor let go of me at the very first jumpscare, which was some type of room with this chainsaw guy and then a bunch of creepy people making creepy noises. I tried to grab her hand again and just made a run for it in a blind panic, only to realise halfway down the hall that the creepy noises aren’t stopping and I’m screaming and running even harder. Until there’s a tug on my hand and I turn around, only to realise that I’ve been running through this maze with a death grip on this poor actor’s hand. And he just goes “if I show you the exit, will you take a selfie with me?”, and that’s the one and only time I’ve ever made use of the celebrity card.”
Everyone laughs, which Graham seamlessly uses to pivot to the Red Chair stories. “Let’s see what other entertaining stories we have here today. Tell us, what’s your name and where are you from?”
“Hi, my name’s Vivian and I’m from Glastonbury.”
“Oh, that’s nice! The hallowed festival grounds – is your story related to that at all?”
“It does, actually!”
Graham looks delighted by that, and claps his hands, “oh yes – I can’t wait to hear this. Off you go Vivian”
“So I work as a police officer in Somerset, but I usually take time off for Glastonbury each year, whereas some of my colleagues work security for everyone attending. Y/N was actually performing that year, so I made sure to take time off to watch her set.” It makes Y/N smile, but when she leans in to get a closer look her eyes go wide all of a sudden.
Graham looks over at Y/N questioningly, but motions for Vivian to continue – his hand resting on the lever.
“I remember showing up to work afterwards, only to find out that my colleagues had been the ones to escort Y/N to and from the festival grounds. I was really bummed about it, jealous they got to meet her. But then earlier this year, around September or so I was on patrol in the area – it was a fairly quiet day on country roads. Until we get closer to this small borough, and there’s someone quite clearly about to drive through a roundabout counterclockwise.”
Y/N sinks into the sofa, trying to disappear. “We signal for the driver to pull over, and when I go up to their vehicle to write them a ticket, I got my moment after all - it turned out to be Y/N.”
“In my defense – I hadn’t driven in the UK for three years, I’m sorry! I paid the ticket!” Y/N says weakly.
The audience laughs, and Y/N cheeks go red from humiliation, but Vivian is quick to corroborate. “She did, and even signed my phone for me.”
“Alright Vivian, that’s a good story, you can walk, go on then. Reminder everyone tonight in London – be safe on the roads, Y/N is out there!”
2d week of November, 2026
2 week of November - release weekend, 2026
[Daily Mail excerpt] Lando No-Comment-rris refuses to answer questions about ex-girlfriend Y/N L/N as he parties it up in London
As the Formula One driver for McLaren turns yet another year older, the question if he's also gotten any wiser. Norris was photographed entering exclusive club Annabel's, before later making his way to a private afterparty with close friend Martin Garrix.
The driver has been having an eventful F1 season, with a very tight race for the championship that's seemingly going to get decided in the final race, as Norris battles it out to defend his current #1 ranking. The athlete has clearly reaped the benefits of his new and improved lifestyle, which seems to include a strict exercise and mealplanning regimen and very little distractions. However, Norris clearly made an exception for his birthday, as onlookers said he was "taking shots" and "enjoying himself" in the VIP section. Pictured below is Norris, together with friends Martin Garrix and fellow driver Max Verstappen.
Perhaps the night was much needed, as Norris has had to endure a very private break-up becoming very public after the release of Y/N L/N's latest album on his actual birthday. In fact, in a rare twist of fate, both the F1 driver and his ex were spotted in the UK capital over the weekend to mark the occasion. While Norris enjoyed Mayfair, L/N was spotted elsewhere in the city as she performed an acoustic set of "The Prophecy".
The two previously resided in Monaco, but since their break-up have not been seen much in public. Norris is believed to have moved his main residence back to the UK, while L/N is rumoured to have returned to her original residence as well.
Up until now, Norris and L/N have remained tightlipped about their relationship and ensuing breakup. When asked about his feelings on the album's release date, Norris refused to comment. Similarly, he did not want to answer questions as to whether the two had been in touch. In a recent interview on the popular podcast Call Her Daddy, L/N did seem to imply there were no hard feelings between the two. The two do still share mutual friends, as is evident by Martin Garrix congratulating Y/N L/N on her new album in his IG stories earlier this weekend.
We have reached out to their reps for comment.
3d week of November, 2026
♥・*:.。 。.:*・゚♡・*:.。 。.:*・゚♥
part IV can be read here
♥ likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥
taglist (open) : @charlesgirl16
#f1 x reader#lando norris smau#lando norris x reader#f1 smau#smau fic#lando norris fic#lando noris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x you#lando norris x yn#the prophecy smau
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My sincerest apologies and warmest welcome to my rant about FF7: Crisis Core. Or, as I like to call it,
Propaganda: The Video Game
I say this with the utmost affection. Crisis Core ranks really high up there in my favorite Final Fantasy 7 installments. I played it when it first came out, borrowing it from a friend to play on a borrowed PSP. And, the more I learn about the game and the more I replay it, the more everything lines up.
This game is not about Zack Fair.
This game is about how Capitalistic Propaganda can sink into every aspect of life to the point where it is entirely indistinguishable from reality. And it’s very overt about it. So…
Here we go.
My treatise on Propaganda’s starring role in Crisis Core.
Part One: The Timeline
Something that a lot of people gloss over due to decades of Child Heroes in media—Japanese Shonen and Shoujo series in particular—is how young these protagonists are. We’ll hand-wave a lot of stuff in non-live-action series with just a little bit of suspension of disbelief. And that’s honestly just accepted these days. But here’s the thing about those hand-waves.
Final Fantasy 7 doesn’t do that.
Now, FF7 hand-waves a lot of stuff. For example, how far you can travel in a day by foot, the distance a man weighing approximately 165lbs can jump after being genetically fused with what might as well be a cocaine demon (Jenova), and how much hairspray one can reasonably carry on a cross-country journey while on the run from the feds.
Age is not one of them.
Exhibit A: Yuffie Kisaragi.
Do I really need to say more? She acts her age. So does Zack. And Aerith, even. Most of the characters in the original lineup were over twenty for a good reason. We see several kids in the series, and they all act their age, too—both the OG and the remake. Age is not a thing that FF7 really grapples with. It’s something they take relatively seriously.
Now, to the point.
Zack is 16 when Crisis Core starts…
… and he was 13 when he ran away from home without his parents’ knowledge to join the military.
Which accepted him.
At 13.
Without a parental permission slip.
Think about that for a second.
… Or for the next several parts of this breakdown.
Part Two: The Main Character
As I mentioned in the introduction, Zack is not the main character of the events of Crisis Core. Instead, he is the focal point of the second person POV. This is not the first time Square has done this. It was done most notably with FF9, FF10, and FF12. (I’m not going to go on an Akira Kurosawa rant right now, but please check out his film “The Hidden Fortress”. FF12 and Star Wars episodes 4-6 borrow heavily from this film.) The purpose and position of this character is such that they might best witness the effects the other characters make on the world as their stories unfold, usually in the role of a love interest. For Akira Kurosawa, it may have been told this way because these people are most effected by the decisions being made.
“Well, then, Sal,” you may be asking, “who would you say is the main character? Would that be Aerith, since she’s the love interest, like in the other games?”
No, actually.
It’s the antagonist.
And by that, I mean Genesis.
Hear me out. I used to hate Genesis, for I was once young, full of judgement for flamboyancy (thanks, internalized homophobia), and was led by the narrative to believe he was mean to his friends. Then I met my Lovely beta who loved him, so I wrote a fic for her as a gift. So for that I kinda just… read stuff. Because that’s the thing about Propaganda—you gotta read stuff to navigate it. I read the in-game emails. I re-watched all the scenes I could get my hands on with him. I read his wiki and tried to track down more information about him. Then I watched the scenes in Japanese and gained a better understanding of not just Genesis, but Sephiroth’s character. And I realized that Genesis was put on this road from the start. In fact, a big part of the fact that he’s seen the way he is in Canon—only at his most hostile and lowest points—is because the story is told through Zack’s point of view.
So before we get into the breakdown, here’s the hard facts about Genesis.
1. He was a test tube baby who may or may not technically be Angeal’s fraternal twin brother, which we are not going to unpack right now.
2. He was adopted by a relatively rich family.
3. He was a child genius (which requires not only resources, but drive to achieve), and at a tender young age of like… ten or something? He decided to mess around and literally invented pasteurization. Which is incredible, and really speaks to his knowledge of the world and ability to grasp complex concepts even at a young age. But, again, this is not the time or place to unpack that.
4. He was best friends with Angeal, who might as well have been the sweetest, kindest boy to ever walk the Planet. (I’m biased. I love him.)
5. As a teenager, he became fixated on Sephiroth, who had gained national acclaim as a SOLDIER despite them being the same age. (Please see part 1 and think about that for a second.) He then goes to join SOLDIER and brings Angeal with him. And Angeal brings his step-father’s puritanical “hard work is honorable” mindset with him. (On that note, Angeal and his father’s arc really are a wonderfully scathing letter to companies that overwork their employees and how toxic/unhealthy that line of thinking is. But. Again. We are not unpacking that right now.)
6. At one point he became consumed with LOVELESS, a series of poems with heavy prose and symbolism thicker than syrup. It got to the point where he was so well known for it that there was an entire fanclub dedicated to both him and analyzing the text.
7. While he was in SOLDIER, he repeatedly had his achievements publicly accredited… to Sephiroth.
Over and over and over again.
Everyone did, really. They mention it in the beginning of the game. Sephiroth even got public credit for Zack’s raid on the castle when he wasn’t even there. How much of his legacy is real? How much of it is made up? How much of it was faked? We don’t know. No one knows. But he keeps getting credit, anyways. And when Genesis confronts him about it, Sephiroth doesn’t care. In the Japanese version of their fight scene, you could even say he indirectly implies that he wants Genesis to take his place as the “hero”. In the English, Sephiroth’s line is, “Come and try.” But in the Japanese the line is closer to, “Wouldn’t that be nice?” Which, depending on how you take his tone, can mean wildly different things—from mocking, to earnest, or even admiration—which is especially to tell because he might be annoyed with Genesis at the moment.
Fun Fact: In Ever Crisis, Sephiroth explicitly says they are making up his achievements in the press to target boys his age for recruitment. (Thus why they accepted Zack at age 13.)
My theory on this line is that he is being cynical; that Genesis doesn't understand just how harrowing and even humiliating his experience has been. This only enforces my theory that the "come and try" translation in the English not only does a disservice to a line as wonderfully heavy as, "Wouldn't that be nice?", but fundamentally misunderstands Sephiroth as a character.
8. Genesis then took the fight to Shin-Ra. Inspiring a good chunk of their staff to leave the company, he then staged multiple attacks on facilities, staff, and the main building—which also spilled out into the city of Midgar. He murdered his parents, buried them, killed everyone in town, and… Yeah. It wasn’t pretty. A lot of innocent people died simply because they were vaguely associated with Shin-Ra. These are the actions of a villain. What’s more, this is clearly a sign that he has been acclimatized to death and violence by Shin-Ra to the point where he doesn’t even consider taking hostages.
Except.
Except the entire town was a Shin-Ra town.
Banora, canonically, was a Shin-Ra built town, which means everyone there was basically an employee of the company. No one was safe. Everyone was a threat. And that…
That was how he was raised. And he finally knew the truth—that every moment of his life was touched, controlled by Shin-Ra, all the way down to his very conception. He has never known freedom. He has never known his own identity. And now that very cage was killing him, slowly and painfully, and turning him into something that couldn’t even be recognized as human. He was watching himself rot in the mirror, and it was all because of Shin-Ra’s greed. And as he searched for salvation, he sunk into LOVELESS as he always had, hinging his entire life on Minerva’s Gift because he knew he was dying and that was all he had.
9. And then he died…
10. … but then it turned out LOVELESS was actually kind of a blueprint, and he did meet the Goddess, and he did get reborn without his degradation so he was rewarded for his journey in the end.
So why wasn’t Genesis the main character of the game?
Simple.
His actions challenge the status quo without being about the status quo. It’s a story about revenge. It’s a story about retribution. It’s a story about answering mass violence with mass violence and ultimately being rewarded by it. And while, yes, the series is an action-based violence simulator, the violence in the original FF7 was a guided, tactical effort. (For all that the characters aren’t the brightest bulbs in the sun lamps.) But the biggest, most obvious shift in the narrative happened when they realized their role as terrorists—bringing mass violence to the company via bombing and open aggression—was just resulting in increasing levels of retaliation against uninvolved people. They might as well have been a child beating the ankles of a giant. The goals and themes of the game fundamentally change when they realize that answering mass-scale societal violence with mass-scale physical violence was not only unsustainable, but also wasn’t going to solve their problem.
FF7 is about change and learning when violence—and what kind of violence—is appropriate in the face of different threats.
Genesis’ arc undermines all of that, and making him the main character would contradict the very heart of the OG game.
So, instead, we are positioned as Zack, connected to him through a mutual friend. From there we see all the damage and horror this vengeance brings to those living under the status quo.
But also, that plotline’s a major downer in a lot of ways, so they needed to lighten things up a bit to keep audience involved. And that’s why Zack is, well…
Part Three: Zack is a Himbo
Please, for the love of all that is holy, keep in mind that everything I say here is with the utmost affection.
Zack is dumb as a rock.
He is a charismatic, enthusiastic sixteen year old jock who ran away from home at thirteen years old to join the military. Which, please know, why I say “military” I mean “private security guard force with a standard-issue Death Baton and a license to kill”. The first scene in the game is him being excited that he gets to murder a bunch of people in a simulation, which he is immediately scolded for by his mentor. He is a glorified, souped up private security guard who is canonically only in it for the glory at first. He wants to be a “hero”, but doesn’t seem to fundamentally know what that means. And, over the course of the story, the definition of that clearly changes for him.
Which tracks, because the story takes place over a period of time with high stress.
Occasionally I see people saying they wish that Zack had more complexity to him, and honestly? The game. Would be. SO. BAD.
Full Disclosure: I am not the biggest fan of Zack specifically because he lacks a lot of nuance. I wish he was a bit more complex, too. But I also know that would break the game. What’s worse, if he was still on Shin-Ra’s side because he understood Shin-Ra’s mission… Well… That would make him a villain, or a cog at best. That’s not main character material. It would make the ending more messed up, though.
Anywho, Zack was thirteen when he left home. He had no formal education. He didn’t tell anyone what he was doing. He even joined without a permission slip from his parents. This means that Shin-Ra was accepting thirteen, possibly fourteen year olds into the military. (Some people will say this tracks because you can get a job at fourteen in many parts of Japan. But, and this is important, you aren’t allowed to be a security guard until you’re quite a bit older, and you need a specific license for it, much like in the US.) Clearly they didn’t teach this boy critical thinking skills. Not because he’s a himbo, but because having their Super-Powered Private Security Force With A License To Kill think independently would explicitly go against their interests. (EX: Genesis.)
Shin-Ra needs SOLDIERs to follow orders or the company would no longer be able to function. Seconds and Thirds aren’t even allowed to reject missions. (One could argue that sending certain someone on back-to-back missions would be a good way for them to eliminate undesirables within the ranks by sending them to their deaths, which… would make an incredible fic idea, actually.) We already know that First, Second, and Third Class rank assignments do not actually reflect the power of the SOLDIER. This is canon. I would instead argue that those who make the rank of First Class aren’t necessarily the most powerful, but are instead the most visible in the media, thus the easiest to market, and/or the easiest to manipulate and control. (For a great example of this, see The Umbrella Academy.)
The point is, Zack may have been elevated to his position as a first specifically because he is malleable and single-minded. Even after all he saw with Genesis, he stuck by the company to the very end, with the exception of the time Sephiroth was literally guiding him to fail a mission. Zack allowed himself to take Shin-Ra’s side every time, taking down their enemies and following their orders, preserving his “honor as SOLDIER” as he had been taught. The only thing that made him stop…
… was literally getting put in a jar.
It was when he was no longer a SOLDIER.
Part Four: Honor
There is no such thing as SOLDIER Honor.
I repeat: There is no such thing as SOLDIER Honor.
It is a fictional thing that is borne of an ideology based around hard work. It only has power because it is believed in. It is an intangible social construct similar to the law, mathematical order of operations, and gender roles. So why are Angeal and Zack obsessed with it?
Pretty simple.
Angeal’s step-father followed it.
Now, we know three things about Angeal’s step-father.
1. He was chill with the fact that Gillian was already pregnant when they started dating.
2. He was a very good father.
3. He worked himself to death trying to pay off the sword he bought Angeal.
This, of course, says a lot about Angeal considering he rarely uses the sword. He essentially sees that sword as the symbol of his step-father’s life. Everything he uses it for, he sees as more important than his step-father’s life. That thing is usually Zack.
Zack, who is the child who joined the military based on stories of heroes.
Zack, who rises against Angeal in the name of his own step-father’s ideology and tries to talk him down, even at the very end. But Zack fails because he fundamentally doesn’t understand what’s going on, partially because “Soldier Honor” is just one more aspect of this narrative he was given. It is a narrative that Angeal has had to step away from, even though he doesn’t want to leave the memory of his step-father behind. He was a good man. He was a good, hardworking man.
And that is why he died.
Corporations will use you up until there is nothing left, then honor your memory/sacrifice. Shin-Ra was doing the exact same thing the company his step-father worked for did; using up SOLDIERs until they outlived their usefulness. And Angeal was horrified to realize that his “SOLDIER Honor” wasn’t honor at all.
It was willingly submitting to control.
But, unlike Angeal, over time, this meaning changed for Zack. Partially because he didn't understand it fully in the first place. It became about acting with integrity. It became about helping people. It became about not lying down and watching the abuse Shin-Ra handed out in exchange for literal money; for maintaining the status quo.
At the very end, Zack understood what it meant to be a hero.
Part Five: The Conclusion
To sum up, Zack believed in and idolized the propaganda spread by Shin-Ra at such a young age, and was so convinced by it, that he ran away from home at thirteen to join the military.
He was their target demographic, so they happily took him into their ranks. What’s more, people think this is normal enough that we see no one opposing this, because the only people who oppose Shin-Ra are “extremists” or “violent terrorists”.
Zack then became their loyal puppy, groomed to fill his role as super-powered attack dog to sick on anyone they deemed appropriate, and he filled the role. He believed he was doing good. He didn’t think they were invading another country, because that’s not what he was told.
He went after Genesis, because that’s what he was told, and he wouldn’t let Genesis’ actions shake his faith in the company.
Then he went after Angeal, hoping to get answers, only to become more confused. Angeal taught him about SOLDIER honor. He taught him about a higher calling. He was the one who made Zack truly loyal to the company. This challenged everything Zack knew.
He went with Sephiroth, planning a small rebellion of their own (a white lie on paperwork) to get answers, only to find things he wasn’t ready for and couldn’t fully understand.
Zack is shaken by each of these events. Horribly. At times, we even watch him grieve. But time and time again, he doesn’t leave the company. He sees the damage they do first hand, and he doesn’t leave the company. The company isn’t the problem, to him. He reads their emails, does their dirty work, and “maintains his SOLDIER honor”.
Zack swallows what they give him right up until what they give him is torture.
Zack swallows what they give him until he becomes their victim.
Every step of the way, Zack is fed a story of how the world is. He was raised on it. He lived it. He became part of it. He was paid peanuts to enforce the status quo Shin-Ra installed in the world by force, and he was proud of it because it was, to him, something to be proud of.
Zack believes the propaganda whole-sale, and we get to watch, from the point of view of an outsider, as it slowly destroys his life before killing him.
Propaganda has the power to make suffering normal. Propaganda has the power to make murder righteous. Propaganda has the power to take a thirteen year old boy out of his home so they can give him a sword, and when they point him in the direction of their enemies he charges of his own volition, because they made him believe in their cause. And he believes in their cause because he believes that it makes life better for everyone.
But that’s not what’s actually happening.
That’s just what he was told.
Crisis Core is about propaganda, and the depths to which it can affect our lives. It changes our belief systems. It changes our perceptions of reality. And when it’s torn down around our eyes, it can make us go insane. It can make us violent and unreasonable as we realize just how much violence is being forced upon us—violence other people just plain do not see. It's just a a piece of paper. It's just a law. It's just a job.
It's just a war.
Final Fantasy 7 was about Fascism.
Crisis Core is about the propaganda that built it. It is told from the point of view of a boy, then a man, steeped in it. He watches until the people suffering around him—Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal—are twisted into villains by the truths and lies around them. Genesis and Angeal are tortured by truths, Sephiroth is transformed by lies, and Zack is subsequently hunted down to conceal them.
Crisis Core is Propaganda: The Video Game.
#thank you for coming to my TED talk#ffvii#ff7#final fantasy vii#final fantasy 7#ffvii crisis core#ff7 crisis core#zack fair#genesis rhapsodos#sephiroth#angeal hewley#crisis core
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☁ — sweet talk !
summary: you're interested in your boyfriend's history- well, more like what he used to do that made the stories about king steve in bed spread like wildfire during school. you find out for yourself. fem!reader. 2k. minors DNI
Look, you love your regular ol’ Steve. Stevie. Steeb. He’s a sweetheart through and through — holds the door for you, holds your hand, gives kisses on your cheek, in your hair.
He’s a generous lover. Knows each little thing that makes you tick and just gives and gives to you. Answers your whimpers for more with a deeper grind of his hips, holds your hand as he buries his face between your thighs. He’s a giver.
But a small part of you, just a small part, has always wondered about King Steve.
You don’t want his sneering jabs and aloof disinterest — no, that’s all very much better off left in the past.
But the stories, the stories of how he left girls’ heads spinning, of the filthy fucks at bathrooms, all teasing and cocky King Steve, panty dropper.
You’re just a little bit— alright, marginally interested. Maybe decently interested.
So, you ask. It’s one of those games Steve likes to play sometimes at parties, the two of you begin as though you’re strangers. You’ll act coy, leaned against a wall with a low-cut shirt and a tight skirt and Steve puts on the moves.
It’s always the same stuff and it always makes you nervously giggle. A hand rested above your head against the wall so he can lean in low, whisper in your ear, something cheesy like, “I saw you from across the room and thought you looked so sexy,” that never fails to make you both break, spilling into laughter.
It’s one of the song and dances you two do, flirting like it’s your first time time meeting to keep things fresh. But tonight, when he cages you against the kitchen counter, hands planted on either side and he’s leaning in close, showering you compliments— you ask.
Your fingers tuck into his collar, keep him close, keep his lips ghosting the shell of your ear and whisper to him. “And what would King Steve say?”
You turn, just enough to see his face. The flush that climbs his cheeks as he considers it is glorious to see, but too his credit, he remains cool.
Steve’s eyes darken, rake over your expression and finds what he’s searching for. One of the hands on the counter shifts to cup your waist, dragging his thumb over the exposed skin tantalisingly.
“He would ask what colour your panties are,” Steve murmurs in your ear, voice somehow lower than before. The gravel in his tone shoots straight to your core. “And then ask you to prove it, in the bathroom.”
Before you even get a moment, his thumb dips into the waistband of your skirt, just an inch — and you suck in a breath instinctively. Steve chuckles and it has a condescending lilt to it. You’re nearly ashamed of how much it turns you on.
“So,” you reply, more breathy than intended. “Are you gonna take me to the bathroom then?”
Steve’s eyes light up and a pleased smirk plays on his lips — his hands wandering further from your waist, over your ass, toying with the edge of your skirt.
“Pretty girl like you?” He hums, the air of cockiness you know is King Steve beginning to take over. “No way, baby. I’d have you in the car.”
The way he says it, like he knows he’s already got you wrapped around his finger has heat crawling in your tummy, thighs squirming just a bit. The party is all but abandoned and you have to try your best to not look too eager on your way out. Steve’s wandering hand, which follows a line straight from your tummy down your thigh, doesn’t help in the least.
His hand is glued to your thigh, the entire drive home, the sweet caress of his thumb driving you crazy. Worse, Steve knows it — he takes his eyes off the empty road to watch your expression when he grazes closer to your hot cunt. Laughs a bit at the flutter of your lashes, the shuddering breath you take.
“Y’gonna let me fuck you properly when we back?” He asks, all smug, rolling his head in your direction. He doesn’t even give you time to respond, not that you can think of words at the moment.
“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?” He hums, his other hand draped lazily over the wheel. He squeezes your thigh, some murmur of ‘being good’ you can’t quite catch.
Despite his cool composure, you can the effect this whole act is having on him. His hips shift upwards for a moment, adjusting himself and clearing his throat. It thrills you more to know you’re both getting off on it.
You don’t make it inside once Steve kills the car’s ignition, parked in the shadow of his house. It’s dark out, a few streetlights here and there, but just light enough to see Steve. He smiles at the way you turn to him, looking for what’s happening next.
He puts his seat back just a bit, backing away from the wheel, and beckons you over. It’s an awkward clamber and when your knee knocks the gear stick and you whisper an “Ow”, only then does Steve break character for a moment.
“Shit, honey, y’alright?” He asks, pulling you into his lap, one hand travelling to your knee instantly. He gives a comforting rub. Concern knits his brows together. It hurts, but barely. You smirk and wind you arms around his neck.
“Wow, who knew King Steve was such a sweetheart.” You tease. You sink down, settling atop his thighs, and move to grind down against him but Steve’s hands are faster. His hands grip your hips, holding them tight in place, and you whine in retaliation before you think.
Steve huffs that cocky laugh, squeezes the flesh of your thighs, pawing back to grab at your ass. “Too needy, aren’t you? You’ll just have to wait, mhm.”
Then his lips are on your skin, on your neck, sucking and scraping. Steve knows all your sensitive spots, the way to play with your lobe to make you slick and whimper aloud. He’s merciless, nibbles and licks that make your tummy burn tighter and hotter — your hips move against his hold automatically, beginning to get desperate for friction.
“Stevie…” You rasp after a couple minutes. The air is just your heavy pants, Steve’s fervent motions, the sound of his hands scraping across the fabric of your clothes. His hands cup your ass, move to under your thighs, and he curls his fingers around the edge of your skirt and tugs it up just a bit.
“I know, baby.” He coos against your skin. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
You groan aloud softly, all his words travelling right to your cunt with a throb. You nod instantly, hoping, praying he’ll give you more. That he’ll let you kiss him.
“Let me have a kiss,” You pout, fingers curling into his hair, ready to tug his face up. Steve smiles at your words, despite his act, but he doesn’t show it. Doesn’t even move his face out. Just mumbles, “Nuh uh, baby. Not yet.” against your neck, breath hot, just to draw it all out.
While you still have a single coherent thought, you consider this the main difference between your Steve and this King Steve. King Steve is a fucking tease.
Your hips shift again, feeling his hardness beneath you. The desperation for some relief is building but Steve’s hands are already firm, holding you in place. He pulls back this time and fuck, if it isn’t a beautiful sight.
Lips pink and sheened with spit, cheeks a tad pink, eyes half-lidded in his lazy motions.
“Baby,” he begins, an annoyed drawl to his voice. “I’m taking care of you, yeah? Wait your turn.”
And before there room for protest, he’s back on you, lips pulling out every single sound from you he can. His hands move up to grope at your boobs, his fingers pinching at your nipples to make you whimper, then massaging it into pleasure to make you sigh. Your neck must be littered in hickies by this point.
It’s heaven. It’s torture. You grip his hair tighter as he works at a spot below your ear that forces little mewls out your throat and you try to contain your hips.
As Steve’s hands work downward, tracing the crease of your thighs inwards, you shudder and lean forward into him. Your forehead presses against his shoulder, still exposing your neck, and you can’t help how good it feels, you go a bit slack. Steve notices in a moment.
“Mmm, there you go.” He hums, voice low and still coated in smugness. “That’s it, just like that, huh?”
The dirty talk is making your head spin, making your cunt throb in want, your nipples tighten. You know the moment Steve’s fingers delve under your skirt, he’ll find a wet patch of slick.
His hands, however teasing, don’t venture under your skirt — and instead, he grips your hips again. This time, he pulls you closer and down, grinding up against at the same time. The pleasure burns hot and you moan lightly, fingers clenching in Steve’s hair and you find yourself chasing another grind instantly.
Steve doesn’t let you, hips still holding you in place. He sets the pace, a slow back and forth grind that pulls filthy noises from you. “That’s it, huh baby? That’s what you need, isn’t it? Taking what I give you, so good.”
His low voice, dripping in smugness, makes it hotter. Just a little mean. You force yourself to tug your head up, wanting more friction against him.
Despite the hardness in his jeans giving him away, he’s the most collected you’ve ever seen him for the situation. Eyes half-lidded, pink lips curled into a smirk, like he’s just observing you, not even partaking.
It’s all apart of King Steve; he gets you all hot and bothered, chest heaving and nails digging into his skin, while he looks cool as a cucumber. You let out a pathetic sounding noise, hips bucking against his hold.
“Oh, baby,” he crows, all faux-sympathetic, like he’s not grinding back up at you in that moment to make you mewl. Finally, one of his hands shift, pushing the fabric of your skirt up you thighs. Steve’s eyes gleam at the sight- sticky panties that are every bit of evidence of your arousal.
“Look at you,” He murmurs. You fight back every noise building in your throat, but they melt out when his thumb comes down to rub you through your panties. It’s a soft touch, a gentle stroke that’s nowhere near enough for you. Definitely on purpose.
You whine, arching against him and try to press forward, asking silently for more, more more. To your surprise, Steve doesn’t tease you, doesn’t draw this part out. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing firm circles that he knows makes you fall apart — and your resounding moan is much louder than you’re expecting, barely managing to muffle it into his shoulder.
Steve chuckles at it, doesn’t let up his pace, adoring how your hips twitch against his touch — you want more and yet, this feels like so much. You feel delirious, feel flushed in every part of your body, feel your hole clench around nothing and whine aloud because of it.
“Too much f’you?” He asks cockily. “We haven’t even made it inside yet, baby. How are you gonna handle it then, hmm?”
How indeed.
now with a part two here.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve smut#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x fem!reader smut#steve x reader#smut#stranger things smut#stranger things#howdy! <3 first post tehe#jay writes
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Strung Up
Pairing(s): Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 32.8k words Warnings: NSFW, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (violence), graphic descriptions of violence, graphic descriptions of death, murder, blood, gore, anxiety, panic attack, implications of stalking, frequent swearing, drug use, alcohol use, manipulation, degradation (not always in the sexy way), dubious consent, light praise kink, fingering, groping, oral sex, multiple orgasms, spanking, titty fucking, masturbation, vaguely masochistic tendencies… A/N: IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: Not all of the warnings are listed above, but the full list of warnings is provided here. The only reason they're not all here is to avoid spoilers throughout the story, but none of the warnings unlisted here should be trigger warnings. If you're still unsure, please feel free to check the list. But if you want to go into this blind, go right ahead! A/N II: Okay so...I did finish the last two scenes at 3 o'clock in the morning last night, but hey! We finished! This is the last upload for my Kinktober 2024 event. I'm glad I was able to finish just in time, and I hope you all enjoy this just as much as I did (even though I almost gave up five different times but that's not important.) Thank you so much and Happy Halloween! A/N III: The story is too long so Tumblr won't let me post this. Because of this, I will ahve to split it into two parts (which is annoying bc it will really damage notes and stuff and it's harder to manage >:( )
"Sonova bitch!”
You resist the urge to kick your tire. It's midnight, you're practically in the middle of the woods, and you're alone. Your car broke down along the way home, and now you're worried you'll have to walk for God-only-knows how long just to get help.
You look around, trying to figure out what to do without a car or any telephone nearby. You curse under your breath, bracing your hands on the side of the car as you lean against it.
You hear tires in the distance, and perk your head up at the chance of some luck coming your way.
But the only thing coming your way is a large, almost creaky van. Upon seeing you, it begins to slow down to a creeping pace, and you wonder if you should just make a break for it.
Just your luck, too. You're stuff on the side of the road in the middle of the night with no way to communicate with a single living soul, and now there's a creepy van inching toward you like you're about to meet your end.
Your back is stiff, and your nerves are frayed. “Just a van driving toward you,”you mutter to yourself. “Nothing scary about that at all.”
As the blinding lights shine across you, you raise a hand and squint your eyes against the strain. It pulls into the side of the road, parking behind you as the lights continue to blare.
“Hey,” a guy says as he swings the door open and steps out. You give a wary smile at first, waving timidly back at him. “Something wrong?”
It's hard to see him. All you see is the outline of his figure against the lights. He's taller than you, with big bushy hair and wide shoulders. You try not to shrink away from this dark, shadowy thing of a man.
You bump the toe of your shoe against the tire, crossing your arms as your hand pulls nervously at the collar of your work shirt. “Stupid engine died on me.”
He gestures to the car, his voice is actually kind of nice, and a bit familiar… “A beauty like this?” He pats the back of it, wild hair shifting as he looks down at it. “That's surprising.”
You shrug. “Yeah, everyone thinks it's such a great car. It's actually a piece of shit.” You chuckle lightly, and he joins you. “Do you think you could help?”
He steps to the side, and some light finally shines on one side of his face. You start to piece together his features, squinting your eyes and realizing why his voice is so familiar. You're put at some ease now that you recognize him. Your shoulders fall, and the features of your face calm.
“Wait, you're that Eddie guy. At my school?”
He looks up at you, a smile tugging at his lips as he nods. “That's me. The Eddie guy.” He holds out his ringed-up hand. “Eddie Munson.”
You take it, the cold of his rings a slight surprise against the warmth of your palm. “I'm–”
“I'm well aware, sweetheart.”
You purse your lips, chuckling lightly at the way he says it. It's not mean in any way, but there's an undertone that you find slightly unsettling.
He squints the corners of his dark eyes, making a cringing face as he nods slowly. “Sorry, that sounds bad. Uhh–”
“No, all good,” you say quickly. You shuffle on your feet, chuckling lightly to try and ease the tension between you. “You're not gonna, like, kill me and stuff my corpse in the back of your van, right?”
He smiles, laughing as he shakes his head. “No, all good.” He raises his fingers in the air, one hand over his heart as he bows a little. “Scout's honor.”
You nod. “Cool.” You glance back at your car and pat the hood. “You think you could help me out, Eddie Munson? Maybe a hot wire?”
He cringes slightly, running a hand through his messy hair. His muscle tee rides up a little from the movement, revealing a slip of his tummy shone gently in his headlights. “Unfortunately, my old girl can't handle a hot wire. I love her, but she's a bit of a piece of shit, too.”
You hum, your shoulders falling slightly. “Oh, that sucks.”
“But…” He steps over to your open door, leaning inside to pop the hood before he walks past you to look at the engine. “I'll tell you what, I can tow it and get it fixed for you.” He seems pleased with this answer. He smiles like a dork. “I help out at an auto shop, they know me. And,” he rubs his hand over the side of the car, admiring the make, “I think they'd be thrilled to work on a nice thing like this.”
Sparks of hope shoot like fireworks in your eyes when you look at him. “”Really?” Then you backpedal as you second guess yourself. “I wouldn’t wanna bother.”
“Psh, no bother, at all.” He says it so casually, like the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. The amount of work, money, time—it doesn’t seem to mean anything to him. “I’ll hook her up and take you home.”
You clasp your hands together, a wide smile falling on your face. “Thank you so much.” You start walking toward his van with him, watching as he opens your door for you like a true gentleman. “I’m so glad you’re not some sort of creep.”
As you sit down, his smile widens with his joke. “You never know.” He winks at you, and it makes you laugh. If he were some middle-aged man, you’d truly be worried. But he’s really just some really nice (and kind of hot) weirdo who goes to your school. He’s not threatening, at all.
Once Eddie’s got your car properly fastened to the back of his van, he’s driving down the lightened road with the radio gently underscoring the otherwise silent air. He taps the wheel gently, glancing over at you every now and then when you’re looking out of the window at your side.
“So,” he mutters, “why are you out here so late?”
You chuckle lightly, scratching your neck absent-mindedly. “Leaving work.” You purse your lips. “My hours are kinda ridiculous.”
His brows raise. “Damn. Sounds like you need a new job.”
You shrug a shoulder lazily. “Eh. Pays well, good boss, one shitty coworker.” You look at him and smile. “It’s nothing.”
“At least it’s not a shitty boss.”
You nod eagerly, laughing lightly in agreement. “Got that right. I got lucky.”
His eyes keep switching between you and the road. He leans his elbow on his arm rest, still steering with one hand on the wheel. “So where do you work?” he wonders curiously.
“Retail.” There’s a crack on the passenger’s side mirror, and you briefly wonder how it got there. “This semi-expensive place, like twenty minutes from my house.”
He tilts his head to the side with a hum, as if the distance is another reason to quit. “Good pay.”
Another involuntary chuckle rises from your chest. “Good pay,” you echo. “What about you?” You turn to him, your head tilted. Then your eyes close and you purse your lips, raising a hand to brush down your face. “You totally said you help out at an auto shop, didn’t you?”
He laughs heartily. “I did, but I actually work at Radio Shack.” You nod like working at Radio Shack is this super interesting thing. “Pays kinda meh, shitty boss, couple good coworkers but the others kinda hate me.”
You lean back against the seat, sighing like it's happening to you. “That sucks. I'm sorry.”
Eddie shrugs. “S’fine, I'm used to it.” He grins a little. “That's what happens when you listen to this.”
He turns the station, turning it up a little as the rambunctious sounds of metal music almost blast through the speakers.
You've never been a fan of metal, but the popular rhetoric of it being music from the devil was annoying. Music is music.
“And when you play RPGs.” He turns the music back down.
You smirk, raising a brow at him. “So you're a nerd?”
An almost startled laugh rises from his throat, it almost sounds like a snort. “Maybe a little,” he says. His smile is so big, you wonder if his cheeks hurt. Then you wonder if he's this nice to everyone.
“That’s okay. I like a good nerd.”
He glances over his shoulder teasingly. “Oh, yeah?”
You nod, chuckling to yourself with a gentle giddy. “Mhm.”
The rest of the ride is as calm and as pleasant. Eddie's good company, and you find yourself genuinely hoping that you continue to be friends after this.
Soon enough, he's pulling into your posh neighborhood. The street lamps have been on for a long time, illuminating your relatively expensive house and the large tree in front of it in a gentle golden light. The porch lights are on, so your parents must be (obviously) asleep.
Eddie jogs across the front of his van to open the door for you. “Tada!” he exclaims quietly as he gestures dramatically toward your home. As you step out, still looking at your house with a furrowed brow, your skin prickles and the back of your neck goes cold as you begin to realize something.
“I…never gave you my address.”
You turn to look at Eddie, who's smiling really widely. His dark fringe kisses his lashes, his lips are pulled taut by the stretch of his smile, which is lingering strangely on his face. A tiny huff of breath passes from his mouth.
There's a strange silence as he stares at you, looking like someone's pressed pause on him. It's just short enough that it's easy to miss.
“I've been to one of your parties before.”
Oh.
“You have?” You think quickly, trying to remember seeing his face and falling short. “I've never seen you at one.”
“Yeah…” he says. “Not really my crowd.” Eddie closes your door after you've grabbed your things. “A friend invited me, but I left quick.” He shrugs a shoulder, “Besides, atmosphere wasn't super welcoming.”
Right. He's a social outcast.
“Oh,” you mumble. It doesn't sit well with you. You wished you would have noticed him. At least then you could have tried to make it better for him. He's a really sweet guy…
“Who’s your friend? I think I heard Steve Harrington mention you before,” you wonder. Steve is a friend of yours, and he’s been to nearly all of your parties.
“Yeah, he invited me.” He shrugs. “But I went with Jonathan Byers.” You know the name, another social outcast. He and his brother are very kindly looked upon, especially after the incident where his little brother was lost in the woods. That’s the only time you ever spoke to him, to offer your sympathies. If you’re thinking correctly, he’s a pothead now.
You give him a smile. “Well, I'd like to formally invite you to my next one—whenever that is, then I can properly welcome you and your friend.”
He laughs lightly, doing a grand flourish with his hand as he bows to you. “Well, thank you very much.”
You gesture toward the back of his van. “And my car?”
He nods dutifully. “I'll get that fixed up for you in no time.” Then he thinks for a moment. “Well, a little bit of time, but not too long.”
“Oh.” You nod, smiling still. You glance off down the street like you're looking for something. “I’ll just have to figure out a ride to school then… My boyfriend kind of lives out of the way and both my parents work.”
You miss the way his shoulders sink, his smile easing just a bit. He brings a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Well…” he speaks slowly, slower than he means to. “I can come pick you up.”
You clasp your hand again in a slightly pleading manner, but there's so much kindness in your eyes. “You're already helping out so much.”
A small sense of pride swells in his chest. “It's not a problem, really. I'm happy to.”
You set a hand on his shoulder, and you feel it tense a little through the thickness of his leather jacket. “I'd really appreciate it.” It's sincere, and you hope he knows. “Thank you.”
He puts his hand over yours. “No problem.” Then he clears his throat and lets go of your hand so you can have it back.
You start walking backwards. “Goodnight, Eddie.”
He raises an open palm, doesn't wave it or anything. “Night…”
You turn around and head inside. He watches you put the key in your door and walk inside.
Eddie stands there still, sighing gently as he wonders what he's going to do with himself. You're just so sweet and so pretty. You're perfect.
You're everything he was hoping for.
~
You've been trying to speak to him for the past ten minutes.
The lunch table isn't as full today. A couple buddies from the team are gone, their girlfriends included—which also means Brynn isn't here to resort to either.
You sigh, rolling your eyes as Jake's lips suck on your neck still. He hasn't moved from this spot unless it's to go to the other side of your neck in ten minutes. His hands are all over your waist, and when he nips at you, you huff.
“Hey, can you chill?”
He hums, not letting up as he continues to suck on you like a goddamn vampire. “What's wrong, baby?” he mumbles against your neck.
You push him off of you so that he'll look at your face. His lips are a little swollen from the attention, and his eyes are hooded like you've just been going down on him or something.
“I'm trying to talk to you, and you’re trying to fuck me in the middle of the cafeteria.
“I'm sorry,” he says, kissing your lips gently. He sighs lightly and smiles. “What were you saying?”
So he wasn't paying attention? You thought as much.
You turn to him. “I was saying that I might get fired.”
He furrows his brows. “Why?”
You brush a hand down your face to calm yourself before you yell at him for being so inattentive. You lick your lips, centering yourself with a sigh as you pull a sarcastic grin over your face.
“Because Cassidy found us making out in the storage closet during my lunch break—which you suggested after I said it was a bad idea.” There's a small grin on his face, and you have a feeling he isn't listening again.
He shrugs, “Cassidy’s a bitch who's been trying to get you fired for months. She's not doing it now.”
Your stress is getting to you now. You reach out to grab his face in the hopes that it'll make him pay a little more attention. “Except this time, she's got me for indecency in the workplace. Which could be filed under sexual harassment. That can get me fired.”
He furrows his brows a little in confusion. He grabs your wrists and pulls them off his face, down to his lap. “I think you're being ridiculous,” he shrugs a shoulder like what he's said isn't a ridiculous statement. “Aren't you training to be like…a crew lead or something?”
His hands fall to your waist, and you ignore him as he leans in again to keep sucking on your neck. He tilts your head up, holding your chin still as he has at it.
You let out a frustrated sigh. “Which is why I'm stressed out. She's going to tell my boss, and she's going to fire me.”
He pulls away from your neck. You watch his face twist in more confusion. He stares at you for a second, then glances away, and then looks back at you. “Why would you get fired?”
You stare at him with an astonished glare in your eyes. “You don't…” you huff unbelievingly and swat his hands away from you, “...fucking listen.”
You stand up and start gathering your things, wiping absent-mindedly at your neck as you throw your bag over your shoulder. He watches you, ever-confused as you storm away from him. “Where are you going?”
When you plop down next to Eddie, he seems unsurprised. He looks over at you and smiles. The rest of his table isn't fazed by your entrance—you come over a lot and you're nice, so they don't care.
“Hey! How's it goin’?” Eddie's happy to see you, and it's already making you feel better. He notices the way your face is screwed up, and he's come to know the look well by now. His face falls a little, concern lining his forehead as it does. “What's wrong?”
His warm hand comes to rest at your face, rubbing lightly between your shoulder blades. It's a soothing thing that actually helps to calm you down a bit. “Jake's pissing me off.”
“How?” He sounds almost as exasperated as you.
You sigh gently, getting ready to recount the story for a listening ear. “A couple days ago, I was on my lunch break at work and he convinced me to…” it's a little awkward telling Eddie about your semi-sexual habits, but you know he won't judge you, “...to make out with him in the storage closet, and my goddamn coworker saw us and is going to tattle.” You drop your face into your hands. “I could get fired for this.”
Eddie thinks for a moment. “This is…Cassidy, right? Cassidy Franklin?”
“Yeah.” You sit up again, probably looking as hopeless as you feel.
He brings his foot up to prop against his chair, tilting his head to one side to let his hair fall off his shoulder. “Isn't she that same girl who started the rumor about Betty Carter and Richard Vance making porn tapes for money?” He raises a brow, “And that one about Steve being in a relationship with Jonathan?”
You nod slowly. “Yeah.”
“Huh?” Jonathan asks, looking up from his food at the mention of his name. Eddie waves him off, rolling his eyes before he looks back over to you. He smiles, opening his hands. “She's a rumormonger. No one's gonna believe her. Especially not your manager. Your manager loves you and everyone hates Cassidy Franklin.”
You think about that, and it's making you feel better. You nod again. “You might be right.”
He wraps a hand around his knee, smiling to himself like he's so pleased to hear that he's right. “Besides, it'll probably end up coming back to her anyway.” He tilts his head, leaning in fondly as he flutters his lashes at you. ”People like that don't always get away with being assholes.”
“Yeah.” You chuckle, nodding. “Okay. You're right, yeah. She's a bitch.”
“Who’s a bitch?” Robin’s head pops up. She looks between the two of you, curiosity all over her face.
You shrug. “My coworker.”
She scoffs, rolling her eyes and nodding. “Yeah, my coworker’s a bitch, too.”
You chuckle lightly, glancing at Eddie. “Don’t you work with Steve?” You���ve checked out movies at Family Video from them before. They seemed to mostly be getting along.
“Yeah, why?” She smirks slyly, returning to her conversation with Argyle. You don’t know what they’re talking about, but you’re not sure it’s going to make a lot of sense with the way his eyes look right now.
Eddie’s smiling when you look back at him. “Anyway, don't sweat it. Everything's gonna be fine…’kay?” He holds out his pinky, squeezing with a funny kind of harshness when you wrap yours around it.
You nod. “Okay.” You sigh, and this time it actually feels like you're letting go of the stress. Eddie always knows how to make you feel better. “Thanks. My boyfriend's an idiot, and it feels like you're the only person who listens to me sometimes.”
He furrows his brow curiously, turning toward his bag of pretzels sitting almost forgotten on the table. He pulls a couple from the bag, picking them individually from his palm. “What about your friend? What's her name—Brooklyn?”
“Brittany.” Your smile sours. “And, yeah, Brynn spends a lot more time with her boyfriend now than she does with me, so I might have to remind her that I exist first.”
He scoffs, shaking his hand as he looks down at his pretzels. “Shitty friend,” he mumbles under his breath. He seems genuinely and deeply upset. His brow furrows maybe a little more than it should.
You look over his expression, briefly wondering why he cares so much. “Just a bit,” you mutter absent-mindedly. You look at the time. Lunch is almost over. “Anyway, thanks, Eddie.”
He seems to snap out of it then, a large grin returning to his face. “No problem.”
You set a hand on his arm, smiling hopefully. “Hey, are you free tonight?” Something glints in his eyes. “Jake's hanging out with his boys and, like I said, Brynn's with her boy. I wanted to watch that new movie.”
It's a horror movie, Annihilator. You know Eddie likes horror movies, and you don't want to watch it alone. Or, rather, you'd prefer to watch it with him.
Eddie does this weird thing sometimes where he pauses. It's like his brain suddenly freezes and he just stops moving. He stares at you. His smile intact and his face just as Eddie-ish as usual, but just a little…off.
It only ever lasts a moment though.
“Raincheck?” he asks regrettably. “I'm hanging with my uncle tonight. We've been planning it for a while now.”
“Oh, sure,” you chirp. You know how much his uncle means to him. They don't usually get time together since he always works so late. “No problem. Tomorrow night?”
He smiles that proud grin again. He does it a lot. You think it's sweet.
“Absolutely.”
“See you then.” You steal a pretzel as you move to stand.
He waves you off with wiggling fingers and a cheeky grin. “See you.” He winks on your way out.
~
Dragging yourself out of the bed the next morning was hard. You don’t know why. You just woke up and felt like maybe tonight was the type of day not to go to school.
And, technically, you could if you wanted to. Both your parents are gone on a business trip—they left before you even woke up that morning. They won’t be back for at least a week. You could ditch and the worst that would happen is a phone call that you could delete if it was really necessary enough to do so in the first place.
But anyway, you don’t. You drag yourself out of bed, get ready for school, and head downstairs for breakfast. You're stirring sugar into your tea when you turn on the TV, switching through the channels to find the cartoons.
Something catches your eyes when a news channel flashes on the screen. You flip back to it quickly, and you stop mid-stir at what you find.
“–about a gruesome murder is tearing through Hawkins like a wildfire.” You drop the spoon in your mug, turning the volume up loud. “The life of a student at Hawkins High School, known as the basketball captain Jason Carver, was taken last night by a suspect police have yet to identify. Hawkins PD is still–”
You rush to the phone, dialing Brynn’s number faster than you ever have before. It rings only a couple times before the dial tone ends. You give her no time to speak.
“Are you watching the news right now?”
“Yeah. Jason fucking Carver? Who the fuck would do this?” She sounds distraught, as distraught as you feel.
You swallow thickly, pacing as much as you can with the short cord keeping you tethered to the phone. You start to worry. What if this isn’t a one time thing? What if people are actually in danger—your boyfriend, your friends. “Don’t ask me.” You start to feel sick.
“This is insane.” She sighs heavily through the line.
“You’re telling me.”
“How’s your car?” she asks, your words running a mile a minute. “Do I need to take you to school?”
It takes you a moment to respond. Your eyes had gotten stuck to the screen. There are police lights and caution tape and people everywhere. It feels so unreal. “Uh—It’s fine.” You clear your throat, wiping a hand over your face. “Especially after Eddie worked on it.”
You can almost hear the scowl in her voice. “You still hang out with him?”
Here we go. “You don’t hang out with me.”
“He’s probably the one who killed Jason.”
Her comment is a slap in the face. You can’t describe the anger and disgust that rises in your throat at what she’d just said. It’s corrosive, and you wish you could show her how upset it actually makes you, but you can’t. So instead, you say, “Why the fuck would you say that?”
Your tone makes her back off. Not by a lot, but enough for her to second guess. “He’s like…a satanist or something.”
“Or something.” You shake your head. “He’s just a nerd, and he’s kind.” You mean it in a nice way. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”
She scoffs. “Whatever.” She takes a moment, calms down, and then says with more sincerity than annoyance. “Don’t get fucking killed.”
“You, too.”
“I’ll see you in class.”
“Bye.” You hang up. You stare at the screen again, staring for a while as you try to process this. You knew Jason. He was your friend—or, he was relatively your friend. You were dating one of the members on his team, so you’ve known him for a while. Now that he’s gone… It’s just such a bizarre concept to digest.
You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. You dial Jake’s house phone, waiting and waiting for it to pick up, only for it to flatline. With a huff, you try again. When it still doesn’t go through, you start to go for a third time when you catch the time. You’re gonna be late. You’ll see him there anyway.
You try to ignore the gnawing feeling that you might not.
~
You lean against your locker next to Eddie, holding onto your bag as your hands worry away at the strap. “I just can’t believe this happened.”
“Yeah, it’s crazy,” Eddie says. He shrugs a shoulder, “I mean, this place has been kinda cursed for a while but something like this?”
You shake your head, imagining the scenes you’ve been told by the amount of people you’ve walked past or talked to since you left the house. “It was so brutal. They said he was gutted and then hung from a fucking tree.” Your gut twists with the image. “I keep looking over my shoulder like this killer’s gonna be there.”
Eddie's hand comes to cup your elbow. He rubs it soothingly with a reassuring glint in his eyes. “Hey, don’t worry about that kinda stuff. Everything’s gonna be fine, okay?” His thumb strokes the meat of your arm. He offers you a smile.
You nod. “I hope so.” You glance behind Eddie, catching sight of Chrissy. It’s a wonder she even showed up today. She’s walking through the halls with her eyes down at the floor, moving so sluggishly that you wonder briefly if she’s really just some zombie roaming the halls. You speak quietly. “I can’t imagine how Chrissy must be feeling. She’s such a sweet person, she doesn’t deserve this kinda thing.”
Eddie’s eyes linger on her as she continues walking down the hall. He swallows thickly. “Yeah…”
His brows suddenly furrow. A crease wedges itself between them as he sees something, and he lets out a sigh as he glances away, straightening his posture as he goes. His thumb rubs your elbow one more time before letting you go. “Hey, I’ll see you later, okay?” You nod. “Stay safe.” He says it with an intensity that honestly warms your heart.
“You, too.” He gives you a quick smile and then leaves. You turn around to watch him go just as you see Jake walking toward you. That makes sense. The two eye each other as they pass, and Jake looks at you like he’s annoyed by something.
The sight of him had initially brought you some relief. You were worried that something happened to him when he didn’t answer the phone this morning. The more you look at him though, the more that feeling sours and becomes something more exasperated than anything else.
You turn around with a sigh, leaning against the locker again on your other elbow. He comes up to you, a partial scowl set upon his face. “Was that Eddie Munson?”
You hate the way he says his name. It pisses you off every time you hear it. “Yeah.”
“Why are you hanging out with him?” He looks genuinely pissed out. You roll your eyes, ready to leave this conversation because it’s such a petty thing to be arguing about right now. Someone just fucking died—one of Jake’s closest friends just fucking died—and he’s upset that you’re hanging out with some guy who plays DND? You were worried he was dead, and this is how he greets you.
“Why does everyone keep asking me that question?” You seethe the question, trying not to bring any attention to yourself as you lean in to talk to him, your own scowl set to combat his own. He huffs and shakes his head, but decides it’s probably just best to drop it.
“You didn’t call me this morning.” Your quiet anger is biting at your fingertips. You try to remind him of the situation because it doesn’t seem to be registering for him. “A student at Hawkins High was killed, and you didn’t call me this morning.”
Jake sighs, running a hand down his face as he thinks about it. You finally start to see the grief threatening to peek through as he looks away from you. “I was on the team with Jason. My parents were bitching about being safe.” His voice is quieter now, not as firm.
You start to feel bad now. You’ve been bitching about him lately about his bad behavior. You’re doing it right now, when what he really needs is your support. You sigh, looking down at your feet as you offer a truce in the way of cradling his arm in your palm. He looks at you, his eyes softening with your own. You just look at him for a moment and take a breath.
“I just don’t understand.” Your voice would be a whisper if there weren’t so many people crowding the halls. You have no doubt that every single one of them is talking about Jason Carver, former captain of the basketball team. “It’s all so surreal. This kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life.”
He lifts his hand to your cheek, offering his comfort. “Hey,” he says gently, “everything’s gonna be fine. I’ll make sure you’re good. You can stay at my place until this all clears up.” Sometimes you wonder why you’re even with him. But then he does stuff like this, and you start to feel a little better about the struggle. “We can also have Brynn and Andrew over to make it fun. How does that sound?”
Better than you thought it would. You haven’t been around them in a while. You feel like maybe you shouldn’t delay that any longer.
“Yeah.” You nod, hyping yourself up a bit as you offer a little smile. “Yeah, that’ll be nice. Thanks.”
His smile widens a bit. He leans in. “Anything for my girl.” He kisses you. It’s a gentle kiss, and it makes you feel better because it feels like he means it. His thumb strokes your cheek, and you can’t help but to smile against his lips.
~
You take a nap as soon as you get home. The whole day has been so exhausting, weighed down by all the grief and confusion. There’s a team meeting after school, so you have to wait for that to finish before Jake comes to get you.
When you wake up, it’s almost eight o’clock. It’s weird. The meeting should’ve been over by now.
It’s too quiet. The silence is making your skin crawl, and you reach for the remote in a desperate need to fix it. When it’s on, you immediately regret making that so.
“A second murder shakes the grounds of Hawkins as another student by the name of Cassidy Franklin is killed only an hour ago at–”
Your shock is interrupted by a tiny clattering sound. You nearly jump out of your skin as your gaze is immediately drawn upstairs. You feel yourself begin to shake, and you don’t think you can move after you’ve turned off the TV just as quickly as you turned it on.
Everything is so still now. Even the air refuses to move as you wait for anything—another sound, more silence. Anything.
You will yourself to move as you go to the kitchen, pulling the biggest knife from its sheath and ignoring the way it trembles with your fear. The tension is the air so palpable, you genuinely believe you could cut it with the knife you have clenched in your tight fists.
You feel dumb walking upstairs, toward the noise you just heard. You feel like you might die if you go any further, but you also feel like if the killer is actually in your house, then you’ll probably die if you stay downstairs, too.
You turn every knob like it’s searing hot. Every time a door opens, you feel like your heart has jumped out of your throat and then forced its way back down once you’ve confirmed there’s no one there (or rather, once you don’t see anyone because you refuse to investigate any further).
When you reach your bedroom, you think you might die. Maybe not from the killer, but from the heart attack you feel creeping up your chest.
On your bed is a single letter and a strange doll thing. You don’t feel like your heart is beating when you walk into the room. You almost slip multiple times over your own feet just trying to get to your bed. When you’re standing there, you’re frightened by something moving beside you, and you genuinely do jump this time.
Your window is open. The curtains swayed gently with a light gust of wind coming through.
Yes. You think you might die.
You swallow thickly, trying to keep your tears choked down as you pick up the doll. It looks handmade. The arms are thin and pillowy, so are the legs. Neither of them have hands or feet, and it has a stitch mouth and buttons for eyes. In a weird, abstract way, you think it sort of looks like you. The skin tone is the same and the buttons match your eye color, at least.
It falls from your hands more than you set it down. They’re shaking so badly, you don’t think you’d have been capable of putting it down yourself.
When you look at the letter, the paper also looks like it’s been folded and glued by hand. Your name is written across the front in handwriting you’ve never seen before. You force yourself to open it to see what’s inside.
When you pull out the note, you cover your mouth as you throw it back down, stumbling away. Tears spring to your eyes, despite your best effort to keep them away. There’s a smudge of blood on the paper. It doesn’t look old.
You squeeze your eyes shut, holding your breath like it’ll wake you up from some terrible dream. But when you open your eyes again and find yourself in the same room, you try not to choke on your tears.
As your entire body trembles, you find your way back to the bed. You pick up the note and do your best to keep your hands still (miserably) so you can read it.
I’ll pull all the loose strings for you, my little puppet. And once they’re all gone, we will be together.
A startled cry rips its way from your throat. You collapse to the floor as your chest heaves uncontrollably. This is too much stress. You can’t take all of this.
You don’t know how long you spend on the floor like this—sobbing and losing a lot of water—but once you’ve wracked up the strength, you crumple the letter into a ball and grab the doll by its torso, squeezing with all the fear and anger in your chest. You open your closet door, throwing them both at the wall with all your strength and forcing the door shut.
You calm your breath enough to stop your tears and wipe at your face, rushing down the stairs with the bag you’d already packed. You’re out of the door in barely any time, getting in the car as quickly as possible and you tear a path straight to Jake’s house.
Once you’re there, you don’t see his father’s car, so you assume he’s working overtime at the department to catch this killer. The way your fists pound on the front door is insistent. You almost sock Jake right in the face as soon as it’s open.
“Fuck,” he says quickly, his words rushing from his mouth. “I’m so sorry, babe. I lost track of time and–”
You don’t listen to him. You throw your arms around him and bury your face in his chest. He smells vaguely of your perfume. You try not to cry again. It’s not too hard, seeing as you already cried a ton of tears earlier onto your bedroom floor.
“Can I stay with you tonight?” You sound pathetic, but you don’t care enough to try to fix it.
“Yeah. Come on.” He opens the door wider, pulling his arm tightly around you as he tucks the both of you into the house. He closes the door behind you, still holding onto you as you pull him tight. He eases your face back into his chest. “What’s got you so freaked out?”
You don’t know what to tell him. You tell him the truth, he might believe you, he might not. If he does, he might decide to go on a killing spree to deal with whoever he thinks could have done it (you have a suspicious feeling that Eddie will be at the top of the list, simply because he doesn’t like him). There are just too many variables, and you’re too tired and too scared to deal with any of them.
“I…” you sigh shakily, “I’m just surprised by…Cassidy’s death.” Cassidy’s fucking dead. You almost forgot about that with all the insanity swarming through your head.
As his hand strokes down the back of your head, you feel his chest rumble against your cheek as he speaks. “You worked with her, didn’t you?” He sounds genuinely curious. He really wasn’t listening…
“Yeah.”
He shakes his head. “That’s crazy.” He sets his chin on top of your head and keeps rubbing your back.
“Jake.” You pull away from him just enough to look at his face. His hands cradle your elbows as your own clutch desperately at his sides. You need to know. “Do you love me?”
He stares at you and nods, bringing a hand to your cheek. His thumb strokes it, just like before. His hand is hot. “Yeah.”
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, searching his eyes for something to hold onto it. “Would you…” You try to steady your breath, swallowing thickly. “Would you let anything bad happen to me?”
You don’t expect him to say yes, but you need to hear it all the same. “‘Course not,” he says. “You’re my girl.”
You lift yourself onto your toes to kiss him. He cranes his neck down to meet you, and his hands fall down to your waist. You bring your arms up to wrap around his shoulders, trying to bring him down further. You need to forget about all of this. Just for a moment. You want to forget.
“Make me feel better,” you mutter against his lips.
He smiles a little, bringing his hands down further to pick you up, wrapping your legs around his wait. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”
~
“Welcome, students.”
The gym is packed full of students. All the students and faculty are sitting in the bleachers or standing around the gym floor, watching the principal and the police officers giving an announcement front and center. You sit so close to Jake that your hips are practically glued together. Brynn’s on your other side with Andrew next to her. You keep wanting to glance over your shoulder where Eddie is sitting with his group, but you decide it’s probably best not to for the sake of not dealing with your friends and boyfriend’s bad attitudes.
“I know we are all aware of the recent losses in our community. Many of us are grieving the beloved memory of these fallen students. In an effort to avoid losing any more of them, our chief of police is going to set a few rules in place to keep our community safe from this unidentified individual.”
Principal Higgins steps back to offer Chief Hopper the floor. He steps forward, already looking tired as he directs his attention to the giant crowd staring at him.
He doesn’t bother with pleasantries. He gets straight to business. “From now on and until the killer is found, a town-wide curfew will be implemented.” People start murmuring in protest. “No one is to be out of their homes past nine o’clock. All doors will be locked and-”
Everyone is talking now. There are murmurs and shouts and boo’s and all kinds of protest as they respond frustratedly to these new rules. You personally don’t oppose them too much…
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Jake groans.
“This fucking sucks!” “What the hell, man?” “Seriously?” “We didn’t do anything!”
Chief Hopper isn’t having it. He cares little for the commotion, and it’s really just pissing him off.
“Hey!”
Everyone is immediately silenced. His voice is even harder now as he yells over the silence. He makes sure to enunciate every word. “All doors and windows will be locked. You are advised to come to school and then go straight home to reduce the risk of being hurt. Police will be patrolling the streets to ensure these rules are being followed. We advise you to stay in groups and be vigilant of your surroundings. Anyone caught breaking curfew will be brought in for questioning, which could lead to a possible arrest.” There’s more silence. No one wants to interrupt him again. “Am I understood?”
Everyone murmurs their reluctant agreement.
“Thank you.”
He stands back again. Principal Higgins steps forward. “Thank you, Chief Hopper.” He clasps his hands together. “Now let us all close our eyes and bow our heads for…”
You’ve tuned him out by now. You don’t have the strength to listen to him right now. You keep replaying that note in your head over and over again.
Once they’re all gone, we will be together…
“They’re calling him Ghostface,” Jake mumbles, keeping his voice low to avoid being called out. “‘Cause of the mask they found at Cassidy’s crime scene.”
You try not to flinch. “Why are we calling him anything but a murderer?”
He shrugs. “I mean, there are a lot of murderers.”
You glance at him, but you ultimately keep your gaze fixated on your hands as you rub at your palms. “I don’t think we should be villainizing him. I mean, people actually like villains.” I’ll pull all the loose strings for you, my little puppet…
He sighs lightly. “I think it’s a pretty sick name.”
“Jake.”
“Just saying.”
There’s a weird feeling burning into your back, like someone’s watching you. It spreads like a wave, and you fight the urge to shudder as you glance behind you to see what it is.
You see Eddie, and your worries are set aside. He offers a tiny grin and a thumbs up. He wants to know if you’re okay. You return the smile as best you can and give him your own thumb. You turn back around, feeling a little better about everything.
As soon as the assembly is dismissed, everyone is making their way back to class or wherever they intend to go. Jake kisses your temple and runs off with his buddies. Brynn and Andrew go with him.
Walking by yourself, you rub a hand over your arm to self-soothe. You’re at school. Nothing is going to happen while you’re at school. You go to your locker just to be there. You don’t want to go to class yet, and you don’t want to stand in the middle of the gym or the hall like some loser.
You’re there for barely a minute before someone’s standing next to you. You flinch when you realize it, quickly calming when you recognize Eddie and his sweet face. He gives you an apologetic look. “You okay? Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
You nod, grabbing his arm and sighing with a small smile. “All good.” You grab your stuff and start down the hall with him at your side. You assume he’s walking you to class because his is at the other side of the school.
“How are you…?”
Both of you pause at the sound of Eddie’s name, pausing by the hall as you hear the familiar voices of some of Jake’s team members.
“Your girlfriend hangs out with that Munson guy?”
“I keep telling her.” Jake seems as displeased as Tommy H.
“Your girl’s a fucking freak for that, man.” That’s Andrew, Brynn’s boyfriend. You’ve learned to tune him out at this point.
“Hey, cut it out, Andy.” Chance is probably the most sane of the group, but he’s still an asshole. “That’s his fucking girlfriend.”
“Keep talking shit about her, and I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”
Tommy’s voice is obnoxious. “Shouldn’t say that, or they’ll arrest you.” A round of laughter sparks among them. Jake’s is the loudest.
“Maybe they should.”
“They should just arrest Munson,” Chance deadpans. Your grasp tightens around a textbook. You’re getting sick of hearing it. “We all know it’s him.”
“Since your girl’s suckin’ face with him, maybe she’s in on it, too… But that’d make her a slut.”
Everyone laughs, even as you hear the scuffle of shoes and ruffle of clothes as some weird play fight breaks out between them. You assume it’s between Jake and Tommy.
Eddie’s hand gently grabs your arm, crowding your space to put a barrier between you and them. His gaze is schooled on your face. He seems really upset, but he hides it well so he can comfort you. You scoff, shaking your head as you stare blankly at the floor, your face set in passionate displeasure.
“I fucking hate jocks.”
“Yeah. Me, too,” he mutters, stroking your arm. Goosebumps erupt over your skin, your entire arm gets covered in them. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
You nod, looking up at him and letting the concern in his eyes ease you. “Yeah.” You readjust your grip on your book, turning the other to walk to his class instead. He lets you, because he knows you’re trying to self-soothe and he doesn’t want to interrupt that. “I’m more upset about everyone always assuming it’s you. Like they know you or something.” You mumble the last part more to yourself, but he hears it loud and clear. It’s heartwarming, your support of him.
“That’s sweet,” he says, “but I don’t really care that much.” Like he’s said before, he’s used to it. You still don’t like it, and he loves that about you. “I don’t know too many girls who take kindly to being called a slut.” He stops you so that he can properly look at you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
You nod, giving him your best smile in an attempt to convince him. He’s so sweet. You don’t want him to worry. “I’m good,” you shrug nonchalantly. “His friends are just assholes. It’s whatever.”
He doesn’t fully believe you, but he doesn’t want to press and stress you out. So he just nods and says, “Hey, you can sit with me during lunch so you don’t have to sit with them.”
You smile, and this time he believes it. “That sounds great.”
~
You’ve rustled through your bag maybe seven times now, and you still can’t find it. The amount of distress it’s causing you is a little unnerving. One thing. You just want one thing to be simple.
“Shit.” Eddie looks over at you, watches you put your head against the lunch table with a force that concerns him. He reaches a hand out and rubs circles along your back unprompted. “I left my notebook for my next class in my car.”
He raises a brow. “Are they really important?”
You turn your head to look at him. “If I miss any of these notes, I’m not passing this test.” And your teacher is a true asshole who refuses to delay the test even a single day to give you all a break.
Eddie’s already moving to stand, offering his hand to you. “I’ll go with you. You know, to keep you safe.”
You glance over at the table where Jake sits. He keeps looking over at you. When you slip your hand into Eddie’s, you know he’s pissed. You don’t mind it too much. “Thanks, Eddie.” He gives you one of those big smiles.
You walk with Eddie out of the cafeteria. There’s a cop posted at the door who checks the both of you out before letting you leave. The sun is really bright, despite the depression inside. It’s actually a bit glaring as you shield your vision from it. Eddie’s not having much luck with it either.
Eddie walks closely by you, and you appreciate the sentiment. You don’t feel as unsafe as you should—maybe it’s because it’s daytime and there are people around you. Nothing is going to happen in broad daylight.
You should really learn not to think things like that, though.
Eddie practically jumps in front of you as the loud screeching of tires alarms everyone around you. You startle, immediately looking towards the car that’s speeding through the parking lot. It’s loud and explosive. It hurts your ears, and you look away because you don’t know if you can take all this shock. You’re going to have a heart attack in your teens.
You cover your ears when it just barely crashes against the back of a car, bouncing off of it just to catapult into a giant pole.
The front is entirely caved in. There’s steam billowing from the hood as the back tires roll. One of the doors has flung open, and you stare in shock at what’s just happened. It takes you a moment to process Eddie’s protective arm over your front. You set a hand on his shoulder, and he immediately turns to examine you. “Are you okay?” he asks quickly, frantic as he looks over every part of you like you were the thing the car hit.
You start to nod when a blood curdling scream fills the air. Your head shoots to the scene of the crash, and you’re running toward it before you can even register Eddie’s protests. He chases after you.
You don’t know what you expected, but it wasn’t this.
It’s gruesome and graphic. Your hands fly to your mouth as you fight the urge to scream at the sight of two bloodied bodies lying cold in the back seat. They’ve been completely mutilated with the amount of times they’ve been stabbed all over. If you hadn’t known them so well, you probably wouldn’t have been able to make them out with all the blood and tears spread over their faces.
Telling flesh from organs (or even clothes) proved difficult. It was a mess of fabric and tissue. Some places were so abused that you could see bone sticking out of wounds, surrounded by flesh and meat. Your gut churned and churned. You wanted to look away, you’re almost begging to look away but you can’t.
That’s two jocks now, four dead bodies. First Jason, then Cassidy…and now Tommy H and Carol Perkins.
Their wide eyes are unblinking…
You can hear your breath in your ears. Everything else is so loud and muffled—the screams, the shouts, the chatter—but the heavy gasps of your lungs is a pound in your head that you can’t tune out. Everything seems to slow as you stare at the two, their bodies unmoving and broken by glinting blades. All you do is stare.
You don’t realize Eddie’s arm wrapped around your waist until he turns your head from the scene. You try to look back, but he’s shielding your gaze with his hand so that you can only look at him. “Hey, hey, hey.” His voice, though thick with breath and something you can’t place with the way your brain rushes, is grounding. “You’re okay. Let’s go. Come on.”
You just follow him because he’s the only steady thing you can focus on. He crowds you with his body, and you let him before it gives you something to focus on. The sight of them is still in your head, stuck to your brain like a dart in a dartboard. You don’t understand. You want to understand.
You don’t notice more people bursting through the doors. You don’t notice the cops following after with their guns drawn as they scream at everyone to get out of the way. You don’t notice more screams filling the air and police sirens from the cars already in the parking lot. You focus on Eddie’s warm palm against your palm as the other holds your hand tight.
You don’t know how much time has passed before you come to. Eddie’s rubbing your back and letting you rest your head on his shoulder. Everything seems calm enough to feel real. You lift your head heavily and look at him. His gaze is distant, and you take it as shock.
You tuck your arm under his to wrap it around his back. He looks down at you, blinking a couple times before continuing to just sit next to you. Everything is fine.
It takes longer than it should for you to remember Jake. When you think you can stand, you place a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and tell him insistently, “I…I’m going to find Jake. He’s probably freaking out, and…just please be safe. Please don’t get hurt. Be safe, please.”
Eddie nods, squeezing your hand gently before letting you go. “You, too. I’ll see you later, right?”
It takes a moment to process. “Yes. Yeah, I’ll try to call you.” He nods, squeezes your hand again, and then lets you go. As you turn away toward the thick crowd, you see Jonathan Byers joining Eddie. Argyle and Robin find them a moment later. At least he’s got company.
Everyone is in the cafeteria now. There’s police at every door keeping anyone from leaving. It’s very crowded, and for a moment, you think you can’t breathe, but you need to find your boyfriend.
It takes you a long time to find him. When you do, it looks like he's just now being told what's happened by his teammates. Brynn is at his side with Andrew holding her hands, speaking slowly. You finally get to them and drop to your knees to look up at him. He sits down heavily, dropping his face in his hands. He looks really tired.
“Jake?” you whisper, brushing his hair back from his face and gently holding his face to lift it up. He sees you, and his eyes dart between your own. His expression is so far away, and you begin to worry yourself sick. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you wait for anyone to tell you anything about what’s going on.
They send you home in groups, canceling school for the rest of the week while they’re at it. You worry about Jake driving, but he’s assured you that you’re okay enough and traffic is slow already. He drives in front of you, and you busy yourself with reading and rereading his plate numbers a million times just to try to avoid thinking about the corpses in Tommy H’s car.
You go to your house first. You hate the thought of walking in there right now, but you need clothes and things if you’re staying at Jake’s house for the next couple of days. You reach through the window of his truck on the way in, sliding a hand down his face. “You okay?”
He nods. He looks like he’s coming back to himself, but he’s still (obviously) deeply upset. “I’m good.”
You kiss his forehead before you’re headed inside with hesitant steps. Once the door is unlocked and open, you move quickly in an effort to grab all the things you need. As you’re passing the kitchen, you notice something sitting on the table. There wasn’t anything there when you were last here.
You swallow thickly, closing your eyes and slowly turning on your heel. When you open your eyes again to see, you swallow the insistent lump in your throat and set your bag on the counter. You walk slowly into the kitchen, and your hands begin to tremble all over again.
The note is the same handmade paper as before. This time, the smudge is on the outside over your name. Your heart is pounding so fast, you can’t even fathom focusing on it right now. You reach a hand out to grab it.
You hear Jake’s shoes as he steps through the front door. You swipe up the note and hide it behind your back as his gaze finds you.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his tone sort of lazy.
You shake your head. “Nothing. I’m just gonna get my stuff.” You start walking toward the stairs.
“I’ll come with you.”
“No,” you sound more desperate than you mean to. But he wouldn’t understand. “No, it’s fine. Please don’t.”
He stares at you for a moment before deciding it’s not that big a deal. He steps back, nodding to himself. “Okay.” He turns on his heel and walks back to his truck to wait for you.
You rush upstairs, shoving open your bedroom door and locking it behind you. You almost yelp when you turn and see a black rose sitting on your bed. You slap a hand over your mouth and close your eyes to center yourself, breathing like that will make the rose disappear—and the letter, too, for that matter.
You lean against the door, your breath shaky as you look at the envelope. You tear it open slower than you had the first, pulling out the letter inside like it will explode if you’re not careful enough.
When all our enemies are dead and buried, we will be the ones laughing together. Soon, my perfect little puppet.
Your breath shudders as memories of just earlier that day pulse in your ears, Tommy and the team laughing at you for “being a slut”. Without wasting a second, Tommy haunts you with the sight of his open eyes, wide and bloodshot—as if he’d just seen a ghost.
This letter goes with the last one. You throw it into the closet and turn to your dresser for some clothes to stuff in a bag. But the top drawer is already open. A pair of underwear is missing. The only reason you know that is because it's the only red pair you have, and it’s not glaring you down.
You shake your head, grabbing the first sets of clothes you see and stuffing them in the bag. You lock all your windows, you lock your bedroom door behind you, you run down the stairs and ignore the fact that you could trip and fall at any moment (effectively breaking your neck and ridding you of the exhaustion of the mess that is your life right now).
You keep (re-locking) every lockable door and window in your house before you finally reach the front door. Once you’re sure it’s locked tight, you rush to Jake’s car with your bag thrown over your shoulder. You toss it in the back, and Jake pulls away as soon as your seatbelt is on. You’re glad he doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, because you know you’re not subtle.
~
The night is a little better once you get to Jake’s place (at least, it is for him once he's had a few beers). Brynn is over—Andrew had to stay home, his parents were too worried to let him leave the house.
But you've got the house all to yourselves. Jake's father is working all night at the precinct. There's no way he's coming home with a killer on the loose—a killer who's already claimed two jocks so far. He's not very keen on a third, especially with such a personal risk.
There's a movie on, and it's a nice distraction for them. Your mind is a little too preoccupied with the events of today (the events of the past few days).
As you glance over at Jake, you set a hand on his knee. There was a flash of something sad in his eyes for a moment. His mood, although it has improved, is still a little sour. It isn't so low that he looks like he isn't there—no, the beer has helped with that—but there's a faintness there that concerns you.
“You okay?” It's a dumb question, but it's the only one you've got. Brynn looks over.
Jake glances at you, nodding. “Yeah,” he says. “Just can't believe he got Tommy.” He shakes his head. “It's not fucking cool, he was a good dude.”
You can admit that you never really liked him. But that wasn't a reason for him to die.
He stands, swirling his empty beer can in his hand and going to grab another. You're still sipping—you never really liked the taste of beer, and Brynn seems to be almost through with hers.
He rustles through the fridge and cracks open another can. “I don't even know why anyone would do this.” He takes a generous swig, running a hand through his hair and shutting the fridge door.
“A fucking psycho, that's who,” Brynn mutters. She drapes a hand over her face. “Who knows what else he'll do?”
Jake scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I try not to think about it.”
You swallow thickly, looking down at your hands as you twirl your thumbs around the other. Brynn glances at you when you say nothing. You're doing that thing where the crease between your brows folds and unfolds. Something’s off.
“What's wrong?” she mutters. Jake looks at you.
You don't know how to tell them. You don't even know if they'll understand. Besides, with everything going on, your problems aren't nearly as important.
You go to dismiss it, but as you glance up and see them both watching you, you realize that you cannot sit here and pretend that nothing is bothering you this time. You look away, trying to find the words and feeling like you’re grasping at straws in a simple attempt at voicing your concerns.
“I…” You take a steadying breath, remembering the notes written to you on letters stained with blood. Fear circles your throat and makes it difficult to speak. You look up at Jake and Brynn. What if saying something about this meant they would both die? What if this thing, this sick, twisted thing going on between you and the killer means that everyone you love will end up dead?
Once again, you go to deny them the truth, the ugly truth of your peril…but you’ve already made that impossible. You swallow thickly, clearing your throat and hoping it will give you some courage.
“I’ve been getting these…these letters.” You clasp your hands together in an effort to stop their trembling. Your voice is soft, so soft that you don’t think they can hear you. “I think it’s from…him.”
Jake’s hand flexes, and you think for a moment that he’ll spill beer all over the place from crushing the can in his fist. “Who?” You think it’s possession over protection.
“The killer,” you say. Then your voice gets weaker. “Ghostface.”
Brynn makes a face. One that tells you that she doesn’t quite believe you. “Why would you be getting letters from this psycho?”
They’re not understanding. They don’t hear the fear in your voice.
“I don’t know. They’re these twisted love letters. I swear to God, there was blood on one of them.” You bring your knees up to your chest, trying to find warmth where fear has made your blood cold. You don’t look at them as you shake your head. It’s an absurd thing to say, but all of what’s happening is absurd. “I think this guy is killing for me.”
Brynn shakes her head, finding logic where you’re too emotional to look. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Jake agrees, coming back to the living room to lean on the couch beside you. “It’s probably just some fuckin’ creep playing with you.” He drinks from his can.
As reasonable as they sound—at least, it’s more reasonable than the theory you have—you can’t believe it. Too much has happened, and this is all too fucked up to try to rationalize. You shake your head, turning your body to face him.
“You don’t understand. He got into my house.” Jake’s eyes aren’t clear, and he looks generally unfazed. You reach a hand out to grasp his own, squeezing it to try to get him to listen to you. “He was there today.”
He tilts his head down. The way he looks at you is nothing if not condescending, but you try not to see it that way. “Maybe you left your door unlocked.” You think, as the son of a police officer, he should be more upset about something breaking into your house. Hell, as your boyfriend, he should be more upset about a guy breaking into your house. “Ie,” he continues, “someone’s playing a trick on you.”
You tilt your head, your anxious frustration turning to something more angry. “I always lock the door. Especially when my parents aren’t home—especially when there’s a psycho killer on the loose.” He shakes his head. You take his face in your hands, making him look at you again. “Jake, Cassidy tried to get me fired. I heard Tommy talking about me today.”
“And Jason?” he nearly snaps. He steps away from you completely. “How’s he connected, huh?”
You swallow. He’s the only one who sticks out. Jason was never unkind to you—though you know he can be unkind. He was, to those that counted to him, as gentlemanly as a jock can get.
You look down. “I…” You clear your throat lightly. “I don’t know, but I know something’s wrong.”
“Yeah, four people are dead.” He almost slams his beer on the counter. His voice cracks slightly, and he runs a hand through his messy hair. He speaks quietly, though not lacking the hurt in his voice. “That’s what’s wrong.”
You know he, Jason, and Tommy were friends, you know how much they mean to him. But—damn it—you should mean just as much! He’s supposed to have your back through this, just like you’ve had his. You’ve tried to be good to him this whole time, and then when you try to tell him how afraid you are, he throws it in your face.
It’s getting to be too much. You have grown used to the flimsy support of those close to you. You parents are almost always gone, your boyfriend has his team, your best friend has her boyfriend. Things used to be so good, and they’ve just been getting so stressful. You never ask for anything from any of them, and the one time you do, you’ve served with a steaming bowl of hot shit. It’s too much.
“I feel like I’m going crazy here, and neither of you are listening to me.” You run your hands down your face, covering your eyes and trying to steady your breath, trying to ease the heat in your chest from all the anger gathering there. “I feel like-like I’m being watched all the time.”
Brynn speaks up. “You’re just paranoid.”
“He was in my house!
You couldn’t stop it once it was out. Your shout was louder than you’d anticipated, and you feel like it’s the first time your words have ever been forced straight from your chest. There’s so much there that you feel like you have to catch your breath as the silence sits thick in the space between the three of you.
You look at Brynn. She stares down at her lap, timidly picking her nails. You look at Jake. He’s got his face in his hand as he leans against the counter.
They don’t believe you.
You can’t make them.
You stand up quickly, pushing yourself off the couch so hard that you almost fall forward. “I don’t need this.” You shove past Jake on your way to the hall, “You guys are supposed to have my fucking back.” Brynn turns to Jake, her eyes unblinking. You climb the stairs and barge into his room, grabbing your bags and repacking the things you’ve set out.
Jake has followed you up the stairs. “Come on, babe. Don’t act like this.”
It makes you seethe. “I’m going home.”
“How? You live too far, and you don’t have a ride.” You glare at him. That’s his concern. “Besides, you shouldn’t be out by yourself.” He adds it on like an afterthought.
You shake your head, closing your eyes and taking a steadying breath. “Then I’ll call someone to get me.” You slam your bag shut, forcing the zipper closed with far too much strength. “I just can’t fucking look at you right now.”
Jake grabs you, stopping you from what you’re doing to make you look at him. “Hey, babe, look, I’m sorry. Okay?” He makes you face him, his hands on your elbows as he cages you in. You turn your face away. “I’m being a huge dick… I believe you, okay?”
You huff, glancing at him out of the corner of your eyes. You take in the sight of him, trying to determine if he’s lying to you. He seems upset, genuinely. It’s foolish hope, but it’s hope, and that’s all you really want right now. “Do you?” It’s more accusing than it is anything else.
His voice is low, and he cradles your face in his hand. You let yourself, reluctantly, lean into his palm. “If that’s what you want.” You don’t like his response, but you push it away. He’s never had a way with words. “I’m sorry.” He pulls you close, bringing his other hand to wrap around your waist. “Let me make it up to you.”
You sigh, allowing yourself for just a moment to think maybe…maybe he means it. His thumb brushes over your cheek, the corner of his lips curves up. He leans in.
“Are you fucking serious right now?”
You shove him hard. You clench your fists at your side and feel yourself reaching a level of anger that is generally foreign to you. You're used to pushing it away.
Jake's shock quickly turns to annoyance, which forms a deep frustration as he huffs. “I'm so fucking sorry,” he mocks. He crowds your space, his face merely inches from his own as he speaks in a low voice that feels like he's shouting. “Two of my friends are dead, and you're making it all about you.”
You want to feel bad, but you can't. You're tired of feeling bad, you're tired of letting yourself be overlooked. What kills you is that he can't even realize that you're not okay—that you're hardly ever okay.
“What the fuck is the matter with you?” You stare in shock and partially in pain, though you try to keep that hidden. It claws at your throat, and you feel like you can't speak; you push through it, despite the burning coals stuck in your throat. “I'm genuinely terrified that someone is trying to hurt me, and you're acting like this?”
He looks like he's about to rip his hair out—which is the point you're reaching as well. “Nobody is trying to hurt you! You're fucking delusional. Jesus Christ, why do you have to be such a whiny little bitch?”
A mix of emotions run through you, but all you do is stand there. You stand and you stare at him, eyes wide and welling, lips parted as your brows dip low.
It's one thing to have a stray thought that your boyfriend finds you annoying—even, perhaps, that he hates you. It's another thing entirely to have those theories confirmed, and in such a way! You look at the features of his face, all the rage and frustration peeling back into fatigue and a hint of regret. You stare even longer, longer than you were meant to, just wanting to see more regret than what he's giving.
You want him to fall to his knees and cry, to beg your forgiveness. But you know he would never beg. You know he would never fall. He never did. It was always you.
After all this time, you were always the one falling.
Ideally, you know you both need to take a step back, get some space. You need to clear your head and think about this so you can come back and figure this out. Especially with everything going on, feelings running high. You should be rational.
But you can't.
The only thing you want to do right now is slam the door in his face, leave him standing there looking stupid. Because if you come back, if you make up and go back to normal…
You don't know how much more you can take.
Jake takes a step forward. “Babe–”
“Get the fuck away from me.”
“Babe, I'm sorry. I'm just–”
You hit his hand away when he reaches for you. “Don't fucking touch me.” You stare at him for a second longer, shaking your head before turning sharply to grab your bags. You make for the door.
“Babe–”
“Rot in Hell.”
You slam the door in his face, rushing down the stairs as quickly as you can. Brynn spots you, walking up to you quickly as she looks down at your bags. “Where are you going?”
“Fuck off.”
“You don't have your car–!” You slam the front door shut. You make sure Jake can hear it from upstairs.
No one follows you. You trek down the sidewalk, your feet heavy and your grip on your bags tight. Your heart is beating so hard, it comes with the sound of thunder in your ears. You know you're about to cry, you can feel it in the heaviness of your chest, the tightness in your throat, the hoarseness of every breath you take. You think briefly that you may die.
But the longer you walk, the longer you realize that you are outside. It's past curfew, late at night. You are alone.
And there's a killer on the loose.
It's the most inconvenient time for tears to fall. You can't see well, and you're breathing so heavily that you can't hear what's going on around you.
The streets are bare. There's no one around. The sky is drenched in darkness. Everyone is inside hiding from the killer, where they should be.
Where do you go?
You have no car. You live too far to walk. You refuse to go back and ask for a ride. You refuse to go back.
You swallow thickly, picking up the pace as you rush to the nearest payphone. There's one close by, you’ve passed by it a million times.
Once you're inside, you close the door quickly. But as soon as your hand is reaching for loose quarters in your bag, you realize they're shaking. You watch them, like leaves rattling in the window. As you bring them slowly to your face, you can't help it when your knees buckle.
You let yourself be carried to the ground, unable to hold it together long enough to find safety. It's all coming down so quickly, and you don't have the sense to allot time to cry after you've found it.
You'd hoped you were wrong, that your friends actually loved you. What a fool you were to believe such a thing. You'd grown so used to such a skewed perception of love that you don't think you'd be able to distinguish that from your twisted need to please every goddamn person you meet.
You like to believe that, at one point, it was real. It had to have been, right? It's been almost a year since you and Jake met. And Brynn has been your best friend since the beginning of high school. But that kind of distrust, those kinds of insults don't come from a place of love.
No, you don't think Jake ever truly loved you. It was simple attraction—attraction that wore off, that he probably got sick of but felt too obligated to preserve because you need someone. And there was a time for you and Brynn, but it has since passed.
You held on too tight.
It's nighttime and the sun has long since set. By the time you clear your face, you feel stupid for crying before finding safety. There are more important things than this.
You take a steadying breath. You need to be rational again.
You stuff a quarter in the slot and clear your throat as you bring the phone to your ear. It rings a few times, and you're scared he won't pick up.
“Hello?”
You recognize the voice, but it's not the one you're looking for. “Hey…” You clear your throat again. “I'm looking for Eddie? I'm one of his friends, we've actually met before.”
Eddie's Uncle Wayne pauses to think. You can imagine him scratching his head and rubbing his neck. He says your name in his low, gravelly voice.
You nod as if he can see you. “Yes, that's me.”
“Ah. Well,” he clears his own throat, “Eddie's at one of his friend's houses right now. That Harrington boy, should be. Staying in groups and all that.”
“Okay.” You hadn't anticipated that. You chew on your lip thoughtfully, trying to decide your best course of action. You know Steve, so maybe you'll be welcome. “Do you think you could give me his number?”
He makes this grunting sound, which is just the sound of him thinking. “Let's see,” he mumbles. “Should be in here somewhere.”
You've only interacted with Wayne a few times. He's very mellow, but he's kind and welcoming. And Eddie adores him.
“Harrington residence. What's up?”
“Hey. Steve? Is Eddie there?”
He says your name, double checking. It's been a little while since you've spoken, with him graduating and all.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, he's here.”
You let out a quiet breath of relief. “Could I speak to him?”
“Yeah, hang on.”
There's a shift. Then you hear Steve shout his name.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He already sounds concerned. “What's the matter?”
You rub your face. “Got into it with…” you take a deep breath and hope you don't sound as dreadful as you felt, “with Jake and Brynn. I don't wanna be home by myself. I know it’s past curfew but…” You glance around you in the dark. “Do you think you could come get me?”
There's a pause, and you wonder if you've said something wrong. Eddie is all enthusiasm. He's loud and excited, and he's quick to respond because he's happy to respond.
The silence makes you nervous.
“Eddie?”
“Yeah!” he recovers. “Yeah, of course. Where are you right now?”
You're glad he doesn't ask how you are. “I'm on Jake's street still.”
You hear a jingle. “Stay there. I'll be there in a few minutes.” You're surprised he doesn't ask why you're outside so late, but you're grateful nonetheless.
“Thank you, Eddie,” you smile.
You can hear his own smile through the phone. He's sticky with affection, and it makes you feel safe. “No worries, sweetheart.”
Continued....
Stranger Things taglist: @activebliss @queermaxwooo @life-on-needs @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @emmalee-01 @sw34ter-w34ther @gublur @allofmaris @redwineandnicotine @the-cryptid @katsukis1wife @chaoticcancer @papichulo120627 @emistrash @jjmaybankswifes-blog @thegr8estpuff @lover-of-books-and-tea @xxhanililoxx @quickslvxrr Eddie the Banished taglist: @iiiiluvhobie @eddiiiieeee @hb8301 @queermaxwooo @lovemegood @munsaniac @digital-charlie @eiriancrow @littleblondesoprano @alexxavicry @samz31 @sparkletash @fandomgirl17 @marjoriea13 @akiratoro420 @mewchiili @mischieftom @hiscrimsonangel
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Home To Mother
Unexpected Love Masterlist Summary: Harry introduces YN and Jacob to Anne.
Warning: mention of smut
Harry had thought about introducing YN and Jacob to his Mum for a while. But with Anne living four hours away, it wasn’t always easy especially with Harry releasing his second album, and YN and Jacob having their own things on too.
A conversation about their Christmas plans had not risen yet, and whilst Harry wanted to spend it with YN and Jacob, he was aware that he always spent Christmas with his family in Cheshire.
He was surprised when he spoke to his Mum on the phone one afternoon on his way to YN’s from the studio. As he drove through the streets of London, his Mums name flashed up on the screen of the handsfree.
“Hi Mum!”. Harry’s cheerily voice answered as he kept his eyes on the busy road in front of him.
“Hi darling…how’s my boy?”. Anne’s tone was warm, full of love as she missed her son after not seeing him for a while.
“I’m good…just on my way home from the studio, we had some small things we needed to wrap up before the release”. Harry explained as it was only a matter of days before the release of his second album.
He could hear his Mum’s smile through her voice. “I’m so proud of you darling…I can’t wait to hear it…I know you’ve worked so hard”.
“Thanks Mum…this album is really special”. Harry admitted as he turned down a quieter road.
“Hmm…I wonder why that is.” Anne teased, a small hint towards Harry’s new lover. “Speaking of YN…how is she and Jacob?”.
Harry couldn’t help but smile at the mention of them both. “They’re fine…I’m actually on my way there now…Jacob wants to show me his new Lego piece he’s built”.
“Ooo sounds cool…looks like everything is going well with you all”. Anne began to prod, knowing where she was going with the conversation. “I’m not sure what your plans are around Christmas but if you’d like to…and of course YN wants to too…then I’d love for you to being YN and Jacob home with you”.
Harry loved the idea of taking YN and Jacob home to Cheshire with him, and introducing them to his family, whilst celebrating Christmas but with Jacob having other family too, it wasn’t a decision he could make solely. “I’d love to Mum…but I’ll have to ask because of Jacob with his Dad and stuff”.
“Of course darling…I will respect your decision either way”. Harry knew his Mum was way too good for the world.
It was a debate he was having in his own head, considering different options, until he decided to speak to one person who he knew would be able to give him the answer he was looking for.
---
Since Harry and YN had become serious in their relationship, he had become a regular visitor to Jack and Zara’s house when YN and Jacob went to visit.
YN and Zara had organised a Christmas shopping trip into town and Jack had asked Harry to join him and the two boys. Harry couldn’t turn down the offer and knew it was his only opportunity to talk to Jack.
Jacob was playing with his toys in the living room of Jack and Zara’s house and Theo had just gone down for his nap, leaving Jack and Harry to catch up.
“Whilst the girls are not here…I wanted to thank you for everything you do for Jacob…and YN too…I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time”. Jack began to the conversation as they sat on opposite sides of the sofa.
Harry couldn’t hide his smile because really he wanted to thank them all for allowing him to be a part of their family dynamic. “Between us…I’ve waited for someone like YN for a long time and Jacob is a real credit to you both…he’s a good lad”.
“He loves you…he talks about you a lot…I love it”. Jack explained, knowing that most of Jacob’s stories now involve Harry.
Harry thought about how he was going to approach the Christmas conversation with Jack, until he pulled the bandaid off in one. “There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about”. Jack nodded his head, his eyes paying full attention to Harry. “My Mum has invited YN and Jacob to Cheshire for Christmas…but I don’t want to overstep your plans and traditions”.
He was waiting for this to be the changing point for Jack to tell him he was crossing the boundaries and that he wouldn’t allow his son to travel up North.
“I’m guessing YN hasn’t spoken to you about Christmas?”. Jack asked and Harry wore a slight frown confused by his response but quickly shook his head. “Between us…Christmas is usually shit for them both…they go to YN’s parents house in Bath…I hate it but they only go once a year and we spend Christmas with Zara’s family”.
Harry felt a tug on his heartstrings at the thought of YN and Jacob having a miserable Christmas, despite being surrounded by the people who should make it special. “I’m not prodding…but is this why YN doesn’t mention her family?”.
Jack nodded, an annoyed look on his face. One that Harry could tell that Jack really disliked them. “As you can guess…they don’t like me because we had Jacob young, and they all decided to share their opinions one day…called YN everything…and I wouldn’t take it and called them all out for being narcissistic arseholes”.
“Must be so hard for her”. Harry tried to sympathise because he was loved by his family and knowing YN didn’t have the same, hurt him.
“She doesn’t talk about them much…I think it’s her way of dealing with it”. Jack explained, as he had experienced their backlash first hand. “So yeah…please take them home with you and introduce them to a nice family…they deserve a happy Christmas.
---
Harry drives up the road to his Mums cosy style cottage, and YN could already tell from the outside that this house was a home and somewhere everyone came because they’d have a warm welcome.
Anne was peaking behind the curtain through the lounge window, wanting to catch a glimpse before greeting them. She could see Harry get out of the car first, YN quick to follow. She involuntarily let out a smile as they shared a quick peck as they passed each other. Once she saw Harry head to the back door, she made her way to greet them.
“Harry!”. The three are broken from their bubble at the sound of a woman’s voice, but YN can instantly tell that the pretty woman standing at the front step is Harry’s Mum. Anne wastes no time pulling Harry in for hug, holding him tight afraid he was going to be gone for months again. “I’ve missed you”.
“I’ve missed you too Mum”. They both pulled apart, Harry turning to YN and Jacob. “Mum…this is YN-“.
“Oh it’s so lovely to meet you love!”. Anne carefully pulled her in for a hug, smiling as she did so. “I’ve heard so much about you”.
YN let out a nervous giggle. “All good things I hope”. She joked, as she and Harry caught each others eye.
“Definitely all good…I knew my boy was smitten from the first date.” Anne announced without care. Whilst YN could feel the blush on her cheeks and shyness take over, Harry laughed at his mother’s words and told her not to embarrass him. “And who’s this little lad?”.
Harry scooped Jacob into his arms, as the younger boy tugged on his hand to be held. “This little monkey is Jacob!”. But with new surroundings and a new person, Jacob tucked his head into Harry’s neck.
“What a beautiful name!”. Anne smiled up at the boy in her son’s arms, the scene being unfamiliar to her. “I feel so lucky that you did your Mummy have come to visit”.
“Thank you for inviting us, it’s really kind of you”. YN took the chance to thank Anne, knowing how special this occasion was for them all.
“You’re welcome here any time!”. Anne reassured her as she lovingly placed her hand on YN’s arm. “Hey Jacob…I’ve been baking all morning…and a little birdy told me that you love chocolate cookies…would you like one?”.
With his head still lying on Harry’s shoulder, Jacob couldn’t hide his love for a chocolate cookie. “Yes please”. His voice was quiet but loud enough for the others to hear.
“Come on in and make yourselves at home!”.
---
A few hours after Harry, YN and Jacob had arrived, Gemma and Michal walked through the front door eager to meet them. They greeted YN with a warm hug, one that reminded her of Anne’s and they gave Jacob a bit of space for him to settle.
With it being Christmas Eve, Anne had prepared a large spread of food for them all to eat together and had even bought them all matching pyjamas. It was a new tradition for YN and Jacob, as they were often left out of those things but it created an accepting feeling in YN’s heart at the thought of Anne thinking about her and Jacob.
“I’ve heard you started big school”. Anne spoke to Jacob across the table, as he used his fork to pick up the food from his plate. “Are you enjoying it?”.
Jacob nodded his head because he loved going to school and being with his friends. “Harry picked me up with Mummy the other day”. He spoke about the time that they surprised him at pick up.
“It wasn’t my greatest ideas, considering half the Mums practically announced my presence.” Harry explained to the rest of the table.
“You were definitely the topic of conversation in the Mum’s group chat that evening”. YN added. “And Jack said they were all highly disappointed when he turned up the next day”. Which caused them all to laugh at the sight of disappointing looks in their faces.
“What can I say…I just have that effect”. Harry sassily added, earning some eye rolls.
After they all sat around playing a board game into the early evening, to which they all playfully shouted at Harry to stop cheating, they all gathered up some Christmas magic and helped Jacob to prepare for the big day.
Anne had bought a personalised Christmas Eve plate for Jacob to leave carrots and snack for Santa and his reindeers. Before they knew it, they were bidding goodnight to Jacob as YN and Harry took him upstairs to settle him for the night.
---
Harry and YN came back downstairs after around an hour of Jacob’s bedtime routine and helping him go to sleep with a nighttime book. Anne told them to help themselves to any drinks or snacks they wanted from the kitchen.
Gemma and Anne could see into the kitchen from where they were both sat. “So what do you think Mum?”. Both their eyes still taking sneaky glances at the couple in the kitchen. Harry hands held her from behind as he whispered something in her ear that made her laugh out loud.
Anne smiled fondly at how happy her son was and how much more content he seemed. “I like her…she seems like a lovely girl and Jacob is so polite”.
“I really like her already…she just seems so down to earth and-“. Gemma began to give her opinion, as she watched her brother cuddle up to his girlfriend in the kitchen.
“Not fake and full of herself?”. Michal finished Gemma’s sentence for, earning an amused grin from the two women. “What? It’s true and what you were thinking!”.
“It was to be fair…I’ve never been a huge fan of the girls he’s introduced me to”. Anne agreed, smiling as Harry and YN were now facing each other, talking quietly as their arms were wrapped around the other.
“As much as their affection is making me want to vomit…I will admit they’re cute”. Gemma quickly turned her eyes away as Harry leaned down to place a kiss on YN’s lips.��
---
“Merry Christmas baby”. Harry whispered in between leaving gentle pecks along YN’s neck. He could feel her melting into each one.
“Merry Christmas gorgeous”. YN’s eyes were still asleep as she enjoyed the feeling of Harry’s lips moving up her neck.
Harry carefully moved his lips to meet YN’s. Their lips moved delicately together, both enjoying the feeling of the others. As Harry moved his hand to rest at the bottom of her back, their lips began to move with more desperation. Their lips moved messily as one. But once Harry’s hand started to move down south, YN pulled her lips away, causing Harry to pout.
“Oh c’mon…that’s not fair.” Harry whined as he tried to kiss her again, but YN only laughed at his pout. “We can be quick!”.
“I am not doing anything with your mother in the next room.” YN gave her reasons, as they were still cuddled as one under the duvet.
“I’ll make sure it’s the best five minutes of your life”. Harry gave it another shot, practically begging.
YN had to cover her mouth to stop the loud laugh from waking others who were still asleep. “I don’t doubt you would…but I’m not having sex with you with your mother asleep in the next room…are you mad!”.
“Makes it more exciting I think”. Harry continued to tease her. “Set myself a challenge to see if I can make you cum without making a noise”.
“Highly doubt it!”.
---
Christmas morning had a slow start to it. They all gathered in the living room near the tree where they all watched with excitement as Jacob opened his presents that were left by Santa the night before. YN was taken back by how a family, who had only just met Jacob treated him with so much love and affection already.
Anne had gifted him a football stadium Lego set, along with some smaller toys and some money for him to choose something to buy. Jacob ran over to her and wrapped small arms around her and thanked her.
Gemma and Michal had taken a similar approach and gifted him a generous gift card for a sports store for him to spend as he pleased. Like he did with Anne, he wrapped his arms around Gemma, before giving Michal a fist pump.
The rest of the morning was spent playing with all of Jacob’s news toys and counting down until they were all sat around the table eating their roast. Jacob insisted on sitting next to Harry whilst they ate because he wanted to pull the Christmas crackers with him.
Later on in the evening, Harry’s extended family of his aunt, uncle and cousins joined them for a night of fun and laughter.
It was the first year Harry had brought someone home for Christmas, so being the joker his uncle was didn’t miss out on winding his nephew up after he introduced YN and Jacob to them.
The large group were coming towards the end of their quiz, with Harry’s team in the lead by one point. The last question asked was “In the 2009-10 Premier League season, Manchester United finished second on the league table. Who finished first?”. Jacob pressed the buzzer without thinking and the pure shock on Harry’s face was priceless, because the rule was whoever pressed the buzzer needed to answer.
“What’s the answer Jacob?”. YN asked, as she stood behind him wondering if he knew it.
“C’mon Jakey…you can do this!” Harry cheered him on, giving him a nudge of encouragement.
Jacob debated the answer as he moved around, before shouting “Chelsea!”. Everybody waited to see if the answer was right.
“Correct!”. Harry lifted Jacob up into the air as their team celebrated their win.
As the evening went on, Jacob started to show signs of tiredness. Deciding he wanted to go to bed, YN encouraged him to say goodnight to the party. As YN and Harry trailed behind the little boy, a voice stopped them.
“Oh would you look at that!”. Everybody turned to look at Harry’s Uncle Mike, confused at what he was talking about. But Mike motioned to where Harry and YN were standing, and like coincidence there was a mistletoe above them.
YN giggled at the sight, but there was a tad of nervousness in the laugh. “Kiss your girl then H!”.
Harry didn’t seem the harm in a quick peck. He leaned down quickly capturing YN’s lips in his. The kiss was kept short, for the sake of everyone else around them.
Whilst Anne smiled at her son’s affection, Mike and Harry’s cousin made kissing noises along with hollowing cheers to tease the pink cheeked boy.
“Oh stop it!” Harry could be heard chucking as he left the room.
---
Harry had been lying awake for a while, YN was sleeping next to him, small breathes leaving her body as she slept. The sound of small footsteps entering their room at Anne’s caused Harry to lift his head up from the plump pillow.
“Hey JJ!” Harry used the nickname he created for him. “Did you sleep okay?”.
Jacob nodded as he rubbed his eyes with the knuckles of his fingers, as he approached Harry.
“Shall we go downstairs for some breakfast? Leave Mummy have some sleep?”. Harry suggested, as he began to reach for his hoodie and joggers. “Do you know what you want?”.
“Pancakes please”. Jacob patiently waited for Harry to finish getting dressed before they descended down the stairs together.
The two of them chatted together as they walked through the hallway into the large kitchen. Anne was sat at the table already, donning her fluffy dressing gown as she sipped of her warm cup of tea.
“Morning boys!”. She greeted them both as she watched Harry place some pancakes into the toaster, and flicking the kettle switch down.
“Morning Mum!”. Harry was cheery as he moved around the kitchen effortlessly, gathering some plates and mugs. “Jakey…say good morning lad”.
“Morning!”. Jacob pulled the chair out next to Anne to sit on. Harry couldn’t help but smile as he glanced over, Jacob was starting to become more comfortable around his family. “Anne?”.
“Yes darling?”. Anne’s full attention was on Jacob, waiting for him to speak.
“Can I play football in your garden please?”. He asked with his big pleading eyes on display, the ones that got him everything he wanted.
“Of course you can sweetheart!”. Anne brought her hands up to her chest as the little boys cuteness and manners were too much. “I’m sure Harry will take you out there after you’ve finished your breakfast…I would take you but I’m not very good at football”.
Jacob chuckled out loud at Anne’s honestly. “You can come to my house and I can teach you…I have cones and-and everything in my garden…I can ask my Mummy if you can come to play”.
Anne’s heart melted and she looked to Harry to share her happy smile. “You’re very kind Jacob, I’d love to come and visit you and Mummy one day…maybe you can show me around London”.
“Me..Mummy..and Harry went to the market…and girls were following us…we had to go home.” Jacob said as a matter of fact, causing Anne to look at Harry with a little concern on her face.
She quickly turned back to Jacob, hiding her previous look. “I’m not as cool as Harry…but maybe we could go somewhere quieter when I visit…how does that sound?”.
Jacob excitedly nodded his head, as Harry placed his breakfast in front of him and giving his hair a little fuss as he walked past.
As promised Harry took Jacob outside to play football in the garden after breakfast. Anne was sat on the chair, watching as they ran around kicking the ball, playfully tackling each other and equally desperate to kick the ball in the pretend goal.
A presence next to Anne, disturbed her thoughts. “Good morning!”. YN’s voice was gentle, almost quiet.
“Good morning love!”. Anne’s smile showed her pearly whites, as she brought her eyes back to the two boys running around the garden. “I’m going to let you in on a secret….i’ve never seen Harry this content and happy”.
YN couldn’t take all the credit. “He’s changed my life for the better…you’ve raised an amazing man and I wish I’d met him sooner”. She didn’t hold back, she knew she’d fallen in deep. Not only did he make her feel special but he’d accepted Jacob as part of her and she will always be grateful.
“He won’t thank me for this…but I know my boy and he’s besotted with you and Jacob”. Anne knew Harry would tell her off for discussing him with YN, but she didn’t care.
“That makes us both!” YN couldn’t take her eyes away from her two favourite people as Harry swung Jacob around in circles in victory for scoring a goal.
Anne wrapped her arm around YN in a cuddle. “Welcome to the family my darling!”.
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Is shattering permanent in the comic (especially with the force fusions and cluster) or can it be fixed down the line like future did? Asking for your opinion on this too bc I found out about it in Future and it makes me feel weird (bc now it feels like any SU stuff and shattering has no consequence or tension, so haven’t been able to read or write stories). Maybe I’m seeing this wrong? Would love your thoughts
Hmm...
So to answer your first question: The comic for WDAU works on the same rules as canon does. I have no intention to over-write anything canon clearly stated to be true.
The ability to put back together shattered gems is definitely a part of that.
So yes, theoretically, even in WDAU, gems being shattered is not 'the end' because they can be eventually re-instated through the work of the diamonds, IF they someday decide to Change Their Minds like they did in the original series.
That being said...
I want to talk a little bit about something you said, because it tickles my brain in an interesting way:
"now it feels like any SU stuff and shattering has no consequence or tension"
And the best way to talk about stuff, I've found, is to ask questions about our underlying assumptions. So my questions for you (all) today are:
For us humans, death certainly IS a constant that remains ever-permanent, and thus it's easy to compare it to shattering and draw that parallel... but is that a fair comparison?
In fiction, death is often circumvented and there still remains reasonable tension in things like magic-heavy worlds, vampire novels, sci-fi where almost any sickness is eradicated, etc. Is this not quite similar to what shattering is for gems?
Is the perceived permanency of shattering the only reason it feels like a heavy consequence?
Are there OTHER consequences of being shattered that make it just as interesting, if not more than, to be explored as a plot device?
Must there be an ever-looming threat of something horrible and permanent happening to make a story good?
There isn't a right or wrong answer to these questions, necessarily. I'm not posing these in order to lead you to a singular, 'absolutely correct' conclusion or way of writing.
For some stories, death DOES need to be permanent in order not to make light of what the characters go through! In some forms of writing, there IS no other way around that consequence.
But I daresay SU is not one of those stories.
Let me put it this way - 100 years ago, medicine had only BEGUN to develop into the thing we know it as today. Sure, there were therapies and treatments for diseases, broken limbs, poisonings, etc. Some of them were quite good, even! But overall, the death tolls back then from basic illness were MUCH higher than they were today.
Pnumonia, Malaria, Syphillis, Smallpox, Bubonic Plague, AIDS.
These were things that people died from, with near CERTAINTY, for the LONGEST time. They were considered the road to a permanent black screen.
And today? Even though they are still, without proper intervention, JUST as deadly, we now have new tools and vaccines to combat them. Hell, if you get vaccinated fast enough you can get bit by a rabid dog and live to tell the tale, unscathed! Rabies used to be a one-stop-shop to the afterlife.
Despite this, we still view these diseases with appropriate fear. They are still dangerous - in the right conditions.
In the right conditions, the consequences for a LOT of things can be permanent. If permanency is what you're looking for.
So alright, the Diamonds can heal shattered gems now. Booooring. How easy it is to fix any shattered gem! What a simple solution to anything tragic.
But................... will they ALWAYS do so?
In fact...will the Diamonds ALWAYS be around?
Will the gems who got shattered always be picked up, piece by piece, and be brought back to them, perfectly preserved? Or will they lose pieces of themselves along the way - literally?
And what NEW consequences can we think of, when we stop thinking of the permanency of death, and start thinking of the Impermanence of those tools that keep us here longer and longer?
Just food for thought. 👀
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Wait, quick idea! Twilight looks like the only hylian in his village because everyone else has round ears, so what if he wasn’t as surprised as the others to see their human companion so resilient, but still fairly impressed because of the fact that most if not all people in his village don’t put themselves in as drastic situations as the reader? Or is this just humans from our world?
get out of my head lmao /lh - you, me, and wayfayrr are actually the same person on diff accounts LMAO
im of the belief that (blame @wayfayrr, my beloved) that he knows of humans bc of some in his village but yeah, just not the type of human in drastic situations
(ALSO they wrote me a fun, long, glorious, male reader human space orc au fic for winning their raffle a bit ago, and it brings up their headcanon abt this and i Adore It actually, check it out here pls if u wanna know🤲)
(also if u see this wayfayrr, sorry for the ping, also should i be calling u moss? or wayfayrr?? idk which, i hope thats even ok to ask 😭 i assumed u would call my ass Moon)
Moon: Male-Masc Reader (he/him)
Orbit: short headcanons-ish, rambling mostly
Stars: Twilight Princess Link (Twi/Twilight), mentions of other Links
Comets & Meteors: CWs: none known, & TWs: none known.
Please comment if I missed any. /gen
to reiterate what i said up there, in case u skipped it for the bullet points,
i like the headcanon he knows humans, knows some of their quirks, and how they were the first ppl the other hylian villagers called on to help stuck cows or downed wagons, lots of heavy lifting stuff
but he really hasnt seen the extent of real humans, bc the humans who were in Ordon, well, they lived in hylian society,
why would they need the adrenaline to lift a car when hylians have set up whole tools and systems in all their towns to help lift just a full bucket of water out of the well??
not to mention, i think all the humans in his village were older adults? like at least not the age theyd be doing things like parkour or going to any trampoline parks type of age,
id imagine its more like stories talked about amongst hylians how hard humans can go, and even the humans themselves talked abt things like,
“well compared to u hylians, we have stomachs made of molten lava to you guys really, but we never have to use it, bc u know hylian food works just fine”
when Twi asked they would say stuff like that, but as soon as he saw ur human ass just picking wildflowers and berries off the side of the road to snack on? even random grasses/vines at some point (kudzu)?? easily eating Wild’s Dubious Food that's DEFINITELY got monster parts in it???! gnawing on the bone of a cucco and it just breaks??!!! and you look surprised too, thank fuck finally a normal reaction from u- oh my goddesses u were just curious (damn the elders were right abt human curiosity too) **and are now sucking out the marrow and eating the bone-!!!!!!!!!!!!
Twilight’s perspective of you is actually the equivalent of like, reading stories about vampires all ur life, then this new friend you made starts to get allergic to garlic, crave blood, has crazy strength and advanced senses, etc
and he’s just watching those honest-to-Hylia human mythological feats play out in real time in front of him, like he’s the only self-aware character in the story that immediately clocks the really obvious vampire as a vampire lmao
is the first to either 1. start choking on his laugh as he theoretically knows ur about to jump on the back of a lynel/hinox to ride it around and watch as the others come to the same conclusion OR 2. try to Stop you from jumping on said big monster in an attempt to ride it around bc he gets used to ur human BS quicker than the others and can see it coming a mile away now lol
very much so this meme:
(ur welcome i made it myself <3)
anyway id love to rant abt this dynamic
abt both Twi’s shock at you eating peppers like a god has come down from the sky to prove their immortality,
but also poor rancher esstientally humansitting you too lmao
the Chain/Time/Wars absolutely put him down as the resident human expert like: “ok he just drank like, 5? No- Four stop him from drinking more at least- (dual sighs). okay, 6 stamina potions, will that kill him??”
Twilight, saviour of Hyrule, of the Twili, Link from Twilight Princess himself,
has to keep a record book of all the new shit he’s heard/learned about humans in Ordon, what he has actively learned abt ur ass just fucking around and finding out, and the few bread crumbs of information u give him abt ur species
(that rlly just come off as kind of cryptid statements abt u/humanity, or don't apply in this scenario bc ur only comparison is Earth Rules, which honestly scare every single fucking one of them in the same way as walking on Ganon’s lawn or something, like straight up view ur home planet as enemy territory, the Amazon jungle, the Hyrule wilds if you will-)
Twilight also gets involuntarily volunteered for human-sitting duty too
tbh the only person Not allowed on human-sitting duty, when u guys go new areas esp, is Wild/Hyrule
you’d tell him you wanna get inside the guardian robot to operate it and ride it around and he’d probably be in shock you even fathomed something like that, yet also now EXTREMELY intrigued to watch it play out
(they’re both more of a “u wanna jump off a cliff?? that's actually crazy, wait for me please.” he seems to think he can somehow protect you if he joins you? its worked sometimes to be fair to him ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ just not really conveniently when the rest of the Chain are around lmao)
☆
i live btw, ive been writing/updating fics along with life updates (moving states/new job/online class) so a few asks will hopefully be answered over here in the next 2ish weeks
no promises, my life is kinda girlbossing at the moment too close to the sun and i am Nervous abt disappointing u guys
i already feel like im disappointing my other blog bc i haven't posted in forever bc im writing a fic instead of asks during any free time i dedicate to writing for it so :/
pls excuse my super slowness like a package ur waiting for in the mail or smth type of slow
AGAIN thanks for the ask!! i hope this was at least entertaining to read as some addon to what u said, you guys have gotta check out some of wayfayrr’s stuff if ur into this, bc they're the only other place i can think of that's talked abt humans not just being the same as hylians
have a great week!!
Peace out hugs and chaos,
🌙
#male reader#link x reader#lu x reader#linked universe x reader#linked universe reader#lu x male reader#loz link x reader#linked universe male reader#moon asks#lu x masc reader#lu guide reader#lu humans are space orcs au#lu humans are Not hylians au
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what's your opinions on selkies/selkie AUs? I love seals (so round, very beautiful, very powerful) and love selkie AUs so I figured I'd ask my fave blog about them. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PL9iMPx9CpQ (here's hoping the link works, it's a seal saying 'egg') -🐸
HELP!! I was laughing so hard at this oh my god I love when they scream - seals are so stupidly cute it’s unfair, just a lil’ guy with beady eyes
CW: fem!reader, Selkie!Soap, rambling
well… Selkie!Soap? his handsome smug ass would definitely want to whisk away Reader. rambling time imagine Johnny coming up from the ocean, soaked to the bone, and hides his seal skin amongst the rocks - safe in a nook where it won’t get lost and people won’t go poking around and find it
Reader, maybe their husband is a fisherman that’s been off at sea for a long time, is walking by and automatically thinks ‘oh my god, this guy probably got ship wrecked and ended up here’ - her husband has told her stories of men falling overboard and stuff. Johnny sees you, this worried little thing, rush down to the shoreline. you’re fussing over him, assuming the worst, and hand him your jacket so he won’t be cold. Johnny is absolutely smitten when he looks at you, he’s seduced his fair share of women, but you? he’s never had a woman come running to him to try and take care of him
he plays along, acting the part of a poor, poor man that was swept away by the tides, lets you take him back to your humble little home to warm up and eat a meal. when he asks what you were doing on the road towards the ocean you tell him your husband is a fisherman, due home any day. you’ve been going to the docks every afternoon to see if he’s come home. Johnny nods along, lying through his teeth about how he ended up overboard off a ship— ah, the name of it isn’t important, neither is where he’s from. don’t worry your pretty little head about him
when you do get home Johnny sits down while you cook something warm and hearty for him, listening to how ‘yeah, it’s been lonely, but my husbands a good man’. all he can do is grit his teeth and smile, thinking about how he wouldn’t leave such a pretty little thing behind. but— you’re loyal to your husband, playing John’s attempts at flirting and seduction as him being friendly. he’s just thankful you’re helping him, what else could it be? your husband would have turned the poor washed up man away, but you? it’s only right to be hospitable to someone in need :(
queue Johnny making excuses to stay over for the night, how he doesn’t quite know where he is lying, how your home is so nice, how he’d be in your debt if you let him stay the night. so you do, letting this selkie stay in your small guest room meant for friends and family. Johnny decides to play nice, doesn’t sneak into your room at night - no, he wants to do more than seduce you, bonnie. Johnny wants to make you fall for him— well, until he comes down to the kitchen the next morning and comes face to face with your roughed up, salty husband
Simon’s ship came in late last night while he was asleep
#mmm selkie!soap#he’s still all muscly and his fine self… but he’s got a little more pudge and fat on his muscles#mmm#good soup#selkie!soap#selkie!johnny#soap#john soap mactavish#john mactavish#soap cod#soap call of duty#soap headcanons#cod#cod thoughts#call of duty#hit post
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Two idiots in love (P2)
Joel Miller x anemic!reader
Summary: the three survivors try to find the supplies they left behind. The two lovebirds bond over the reader passing out.
Words: 2,135
Warnings: anemia, cursing, passing out, lots of bickering
Part 1 and Part 3
Masterlist <3
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She woke up long after Joel had gotten up.
So, she didn't see the way he held her in their sleep. Or the slight smile on his face as he slumbered.
But Ellie did.
Now, the three were packed up, and ready to continue their journey.
They walked along a gravel road, gravel crunching under their feet being the only sound they could hear in the forest.
"Have you gone this way a lot? No infected?" Ellie asked.
Joel was in a much calmer mood today, his voice soft, but his body still very much tense, his eyes scanning the area constantly, "Not a lot, no."
"What are you looking for?"
"People."
More silence.
Joel started to notice Y/N taking smaller, slower steps. Her lungs expanded more than his. It was hard to keep up with his long strides, regardless of her illness. Joel was very long-legged, and the two girls were very much not.
But Joel's head turned to see her slowly fall behind.
He looked forward once more, his steps naturally slowing until she was next to him again.
"Oh.... thank you, Joel."
He turned, "…You doing alright?"
She nodded, "Yeah, I feel okay."
He rests a hand on her shoulder, "Then don't thank me."
More silence.
The silence could be nice, if you made it so. Y/N certainly enjoyed it. It meant she could focus on her breathing and not the constant bickering of the teen and her partner.
Her smuggling partner.
But, as usual, Ellie broke the silence again.
"Are Bill and Frank nice?"
Y/N nodded her head, Joel answering, "Frank is."
"How'd you get that scar on your head?"
Joel let out a sigh, causing Ellie to smile.
"What? Is it something lame? Like you feel down the stairs or something?"
Y/N looked over Joel, "Ellie…"
"I didn't fall down any stairs."
"Okay, so what then?"
"Someone shot at me and missed."
"See, that's cool. You shoot back?"
"Yeah."
"You get him?"
Another sigh comes from Joel, "No, I missed, too. It happens more often than you think."
"'Cause you suck at shooting or, like, in general?"
Y/N stepped in again, "Hey…"
Joel looked over to Ellie with a glare, "…in general."
More silence.
Y/N got a smirk on her face, "Be glad that they both missed."
Ellie immediately moved to walk by Y/N instead, interested in her story, "…what? What do you mean?"
Joel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, the other hand kept on his gun holster.
Y/N leaned in towards Ellie, "…why do YOU think, Ellie? You're a smart girl."
Ellie thought for a while before a huge grin appeared on her face. She pointed back and forth between Y/N and Joel, "You mean… you two… and that…?"
Y/N let out a soft laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, we did."
"That's so fucking cool! See, Joel? That's not lame, that's cool as fuck!"
Joel grunted, his voice dropping slightly, "I'm glad me almost fucking killing her is cool to you, kid."
Y/N grabbed Ellie's arm, giving her a small wink.
Ellie noticed the two different guns in Joel's holsters. "With it just being us, I was thinking I should pro-"
"No."
Y/N let out a breath, holding back a laugh. Laughing would slow her down- slow them all down. She was the weak link. She couldn't let things get the best of her.
More silence.
…
"Cumberland Farms."
The three approached an old convenience store, the building covered in vines and broken cement.
Joel turned around to look at Ellie, "Hang back a minute. I gotta grab some stuff I stashed."
Ellie's head tilted, "Stashed? Why do you have stuff stashed here?"
"You ask a lot of goddamn questions."
"Yes, yes I do."
Joel opened the door, poking his head in to check for people.
"…so…. Are you gonna answer me or what?"
Joel sighs again, "We hide supplies on routes in case we find ourselves short on gear, which I currently am 'cause-"
"-No way!"
Ellie immediately runs in, approaching a mortal combat arcade machine. "You ever play this one? I had a friend who knew everything about this game."
Joel tugged at Y/N, pulling her to one of the tables, pushing on it to ensure it was strong, "Sit. You need to rest."
She huffed, pulling her self up to sit on the table, her legs swinging as she watched the girl.
"…there's this one character named Mileena who takes off her mask and she has monster teeth and then she swallows you whole and barfs out your bones! Oh, man."
The two girls turn their head when Joel kicks at a rack.
Ellie sighs, "You forgot where you put your stuff."
Joel looked up, "No, I'm just zeroing in on it. It's been a couple of years."
"Okay, well… I'm gonna take a look around, see if there's anything good."
"Trust me, it's all been picked over already."
Ellie's feet crunch over the glass on the ground, "Maybe, maybe not."
Joel pushes on one of the aisles against the wall.
Ellie moves further away from the two, "Is there anything bad in here?"
"Just you."
"Getting funnier."
Ellie then goes to the back part of the store, away from Joel and Y/N.
Joel mutters a quiet, "Fuck."
Y/N pushes herself off the table, moving towards him to help.
He looks up, "No. No, you go back. I'm fine."
She sighs, "I don't think you are."
He stands straight, his hands on his hips, "Alright, then, sweet girl, tell me where the fuck we left it?"
"I don't know, Joel. Ju-"
Ellie zones out on their bickering as she starts to get further and further away from them. She pushes on a door, opening it with a loud creak. She kicks at the stuff on the ground, inspecting it with her shoe. Eventually, she finds a trap door. She moves everything off it, opening it slowly.
She hears Joel's voice from the front of the store, "You all right back there?"
She jumps, "Uh, yep!"
She hears the two begin to bicker quietly again, prompting her to continue.
Y/N let out a light sigh, "Listen, Joel. It's been years. The odds that no one has taken our stuff isn't realistic. Let's just forget about it, yeah?"
He shakes his head, not even looking at her, "no. That's not an option."
"Not an option? Joel, everything we're doing now is a fucking option! It's not gonna be here!"
"IT HAS TO BE!"
She steps back from him slightly, an involuntary breath leaving her throat. Her breathing picks up, hurting her lungs.
His eyes soften at her reaction, his voice dropping again, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I… Fuck."
She puts some distance between them, giving them both room to breathe. "I… what…. What's so important about what you left here, Joel?"
He looks up towards the ceiling, his hands moving back to his hips as he slowed his breathing. His voice became a low whisper, "…it's…. It's for you… your medication…"
Her face became one of surprise, "…what?"
"When… when we left stuff here… I left some of your medication because I knew… fuck, I KNEW something like this would happen and you'd need it."
She was speechless. He came here for her. To get her more medication. "…uh… thank you…"
He nodded, "Don't thank me, honey. Don't thank me yet."
But that moment was quickly interrupted by the sound of an infected's scratchy growl.
The two turned their head towards the noise.
Ellie.
Joel immediately turned to Y/N, "You're gonna stay here."
She grimaced, but listened anyway.
He pulled out his knife, walking toward where he last saw the girl go. "Ellie…?"
She quickly came through the doorway, "Picked over, my ass."
A breath of relief came from both adults.
…
"Holy shit!"
The two turned to the hill Ellie was looking at, a plane crash's remains laid there, scattered over the land.
"You fly in one of those?"
Joel shrugged, "Few time, sure."
"So lucky."
"Didn't feel like it at the time. Get shoved into a middle seat, pay 12 bucks for a sandwich."
Y/N let out a laugh, Joel turning to her, "What, sweetheart? You find that funny?"
"Fuck yeah, I do."
He felt a smile grow on his face, "Jesus, you're something else."
Ellie jumped back in, "Dude, you got to go up in the sky."
Joel turned back to the crash, "Yeah, well, so did they."
A silence fell over them before Joel grabbed Y/N's wrist, pulling her with him. And they began the grueling walk again.
…
A little while later, Joel puts a hand out in front of both girls, stopping them, "We'll cut across the woods here."
Ellie tilted her head, "Isn't the road easier?"
"Yeah, it's just- There's stuff up there you shouldn't see."
"Well, now I want to."
"I don't want you to."
Ellie began to walk forward, Joel following, "Serious. Ellie."
"You're too honest, man."
Y/N sighed, starting to walk behind them, "Jesus, you two…"
Then she stopped.
She was losing her vision, "Oh, fuck."
Joel turned immediately, "Hey. Ellie, stop. Sweetheart?"
Y/N brought a hand up to her head, as if it could stop the black clouding her vision.
Joel watched with a worried look in his eye, "You alright?"
She looked up, "I… I don't know…"
She fell to her knees.
"Oh Fuck!" Joel ran to her quickly, squatting down next to her.
Ellie watched the two from afar, not sure how to help.
"Sweetheart. You gotta lay down. C'mon. Lay down."
Y/N let out a groan, not wanting to move in fear of making things worse.
Ellie began to walk towards them, "what's going on? Is she gonna die?"
Joel's voice turned to stone, "SHE'S NOT GONNA FUCKING DIE!"
Ellie stopped walking, deciding to give them privacy.
Joel let out a sigh, his focus entirely on Y/N, "You gotta lay down, Sweetheart."
She sighed, "….help me… please."
Joel didn't need to be asked twice.
He immediately shrugged off his jacket, getting his plan in motion.
He moved behind her, pushing her torso backwards towards him. He played his jacket on the ground in front of him, right where her back would meet the ground.
He pulled her hair to the side, letting her head rest on his leg.
"Alright, honey. How do you feel?"
"I… can't see… anything…"
He sighed, "that's alright. You need to sleep?"
She shook her head, but stopped seeing as it made things worse, "No… I….I'm…. Fine..." She was slowly losing consciousness.
"Shit. Shh…. Just.... Let it happen…."
He held her face with one hand, the other still resting on the gun on his hip in case of an emergency.
…
Half an hour later, her eyes opened to see Joel hadn't moved since she had passed out. One hand still held her jaw, his thumb brushing her skin lightly, but his other had moved to her hair, lightly playing with it.
She saw Joel give a relieved look before his hands disappeared from her completely. "Oh, thank god. How you feeling, Sweetheart?"
She let out a groan, "achy."
He smiled, "Well, do we need to stop?"
She shook her head, "No. I can do this."
She sat up slowly, letting her body adjust to the feeling. Joel stood up, moving in front of her. He then held out a hand, offering to help her up.
She took it, of course. His other arm snaked around her waist for stability. When he decided she was stable enough, his moved his hands back, letting her adjust the rest of the way herself.
She leaned forward, whispering in his ear, "…thank you."
He felt a little color come to his cheeks, "Don't thank-"
"Take my fucking gratitude for once, Joel."
He laughed, "Alright. Just this once. You're welcome."
Her head immediately looked around, trying to find Ellie.
She was not too far, her famous shit eating grin on her face.
Joel knew he wouldn't hear the end of it. "Alright. Get up, Ellie. We go at Y/N's speed, got that?"
Ellie nodded, mumbling under her breath, "Yeah, you do everything her way, don'tcha?"
His head turned, "What the fuck did you just say?"
Her eyes shuffled between the two, "Nothing, sir."
He huffed, beginning to let Y/N take the lead on their walk.
Ellie caught up with Y/N, "Say… you think you can tell me that story?"
Y/N's eyebrows furrowed, "…what story?"
"The one where you almost shot Joel."
She laughed, "Yeah… yeah, I can do that."
They heard Joel's voice behind them, "Hey. Watch it."
They giggled, continuing their journey with a smile.
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part 3
#fanfics#fanfiction#fanfic#joel miller imagine#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller tlou#joel tlou#tlou fanfiction#tlou#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction
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Home Sweet Home (William Afton x Wife! Reader) - Pt. 1
Hello hello! So, I'm fully insane about this man rn. I can't help it. The brain rot has taken over my life and here we are lol. I wanted to write something that really focuses on the domestic fluff side of Reader's life with William, of course there will be some smut thrown in there too because I simply can't help myself 😂😂 Reader and William have just bought their first house together. This story follows their week long escapade of unpacking, making their home perfect, and going down memory lane. Lots of super cute stuff, chapters containing smut will be updated with proper warnings. If you enjoy this story and would like to be added to the tag list, please let me know!
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, MDNI, 18+ CONTENT AHEAD, smut marked with divider, age gap (reader in 30's William in 40's/50's), some swearing, face sitting, cockwarming, size kink, a singular (1) spank to readers ass, slightly dom! William, praise, Will just wants to give his wife some tender TLC after a long day of lugging boxes around (if I missed any please let me know!
You can find my Masterlist here!
Word Count: 3,538
Part 2
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“I want to paint the living room green, I think it would look nice with our couch.” William drove down the road, a soft smile on his face as he listened to you ramble on about all of your plans for their new house. Business at the pizzeria had skyrocketed, which meant that he could finally give his pretty little wife the front porch, white picket fence house of her dreams. You should be pulling in about a half hour before the moving truck is scheduled to arrive, allowing the two of you time to empty out his trunk. You stood at his side with a giddy smile on your face, William thumbing through his key ring to find the new shiny gold addition to his collection. He slides the key into the lock, chuckling at your excited squeals as he pushes the door open. He grabs you by the wrist, stopping you from running inside ahead of him.
“Isn’t there some old wives tale about carrying your wife over the threshold of a house?” He mumbles out the vague details he could remember. You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck with a giggle.
“It’s for good luck. Why? Do you want to carry me inside?” You smile coyly up at him.
“Well I’m not going to be the one bringing bad luck into our house.” He proclaims proudly, jabbing a finger into his chest. You let out a shriek as he scoops you up in his strong arms. You press a kiss to his scruffy cheek as you pass through the door. “Well, Mrs. Afton, welcome home.” He smiles down at you.
You spun around the empty living room floor, broom in hand as you did a quick sweep before the furniture got brought in. “Oh, Will, I'm so happy. Our own house.” You beam up at him. Your husband breathes out a chuckle, sweeping you up in his arms as he places a kiss to your forehead. Both of your attention was drawn to the windows as the moving truck rumbled into the driveway.
“Don't lift anything too heavy.” He orders with a firm point of his finger. “I hired movers so you don't have to struggle, if I see you doing too much you're going to be in big trouble later bunny.” You roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around him as you place a kiss to his chest.
“I promise I won't work too hard.” You fidget with the hem of his shirt. “I just want everything to be perfect.” You sigh with a slight shrug of your shoulders.
“I promise it will be, we have the whole week to get everything exactly how you want it.” He smiles, his thumb rubbing languidly across your waist. You excitedly threw open the front door, directing the movers inside before clamoring out to the truck yourself. William trailed after you, keeping a close eye on your excited figure. Your husband loved how passionate you were about everything you did, but you also had a tendency to overwork yourself. He sighs as he sees you struggling with a box, gently taking it from your hands and propping it against his hip. He glances around the trailer. “Here.” He nudges a box with his foot, one he had made a subtle marking on to signify it was one he packed light enough for you to easily carry. “Take that one, we’ll go put these in the bedroom.” He hops down from the back of the truck, taking your box from you and wrapping his hands around your waist to lower you safely to the ground. You practically skipped up the porch steps, scooting past the movers as you raced up to the master bedroom. Your mattress sat in the middle of the room. The white, sheetless bed was a stark contrast to the nearly black hardwood.
“We’ll need to go get a bed frame.” You sigh, setting down the box before collapsing on the mattress. William groans as he lays down by your side.
“I’m sure we’re going to have to get a lot of things.” He chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to him. “We’ll take care of everything, doll, don’t worry.” You spent the rest of the afternoon sliding furniture around downstairs while the movers brought in the rest of the boxes. The sun had already set by the time everything was brought in. You collapsed onto the couch with a tired groan, finally kicking your shoes off as you sank into the worn leather of the cushions. William sits beside you, lifting your feet only to drop them back in his lap. You let out a pleased hum as you feel his strong hands knead into your aching muscles. “Day one is officially over.” The two of you exchange a sleepy high five. A soft smile spreads across your lips as you take a moment to look at your husband. His gold, wire framed aviators sitting low on his nose, his large calloused hands massaging your feet with the utmost care and delicacy. You were William’s entire world.
“Honey,” he perks up at your soft voice, calling out to him, “how about I throw something together for dinner so we can get to bed.”
“I don’t think we have any groceries bunny.” He rebuttals with a chuckle. “Are you up for a drive? We could go pick up some pizza.”
“But it’s so cold.” You pout.
“I’ll go grab you one of my coats, sweet girl.” He cups your cheek, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he passes by you. You let out a soft hum as you buried your face into the soft fabric of your husband's coat, the comforting smell of his spicy, musky cologne, machine oil, and cigarettes filling your nose. He had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, allowing you to cuddle into his side as he drove up twisting back roads. The radio crackled softly, whatever song was playing was barely audible over the car's loud blower. You rested your hand on his thigh, William glancing down quickly, the sight of your wedding ring glinting in the soft light bringing a smile to his lips. He loved the fact that you were all his, his pretty wife, his little bunny. He loved how sweet and delicate you were. He had been hardened by years of working in his workshop and other strenuous jobs he had throughout his life, he barely registered this evening was brisk let alone cold. But he definitely wouldn't complain about you cuddling into his side for warmth, how your cheeks and the tip of your nose dusted pink from the chilly night air, how your fingers trembled as you tucked them under his thigh. He shuddered softly as you pressed your lips to his neck, the buzzing, yellow light from the pizza shop's sign illuminating the cab as you and your husband exchanged a look filled with need.
“Hurry back.” You shoot him a coy smile as he stumbles from the car.
The smell of warm crust and greasy pepperoni filled the car, the pizza nicely heating your lap. William’s arm draped over your shoulder, you allowed the rumbling car ride to rock you into his side. Your eyelids grow heavy as you try to keep yourself awake, a sleepy smile crawling across your features as you pull into the driveway. You sighed as you looked around at the mess of moving boxes, your dining table tucked away into a corner that would be too much work to get to. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch doll, I’ll be right back.” William’s hand quickly slips into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as he passes by. You flop back into the cushions, letting the pizza box rest next to you. Even with the short amount of time you’ve spent in the house you could tell how different it was from your old apartment. You and William had moved to the middle of the woods in Hurricane, your nearest neighbor at least ten minutes down the road. There were no sounds of your neighbors talking quietly through the walls, no footsteps of the dog that lived upstairs. The house was completely silent, outside completely pitch black. You jumped as William’s feet started to thud down the stairs. He pushes into the living room with a groan, dragging your mattress behind him. He drops the bed in the middle of the floor with a dull thump, twisting side to side in order to stretch out his back. “I’ll go grab some pillows and blankets.” He smiles at you.
“It’s just like our honeymoon.” You laugh as he pulls you up from the couch. He tilts your chin up with his finger, capturing your lips with his.
“Oh, trust me,” he starts in a sultry tone, “I wish I could spend this entire week in bed with you.” You dropped down onto the mattress, a soft sigh falling from your lips as he massages your shoulders. You smile at him as you watch him disappear upstairs, returning a few minutes later with a box full of your bedding and some pillows. Deciding you weren’t up for the challenge you left the sheets in the box. You piled your comforter and a few throw blankets onto the bed, you crawled in before your husband joined you with the pizza. You two sit side by side, your head falling to rest against his shoulder.
“It’s no Freddy’s.” You grumble at your lackluster pizza. William chuckles in response to your pouting.
“How about we swing by and see Henry tomorrow, I’m sure I can sneak you a piece.” He winks with a lopsided grin.
“That sounds perfect.” The two of you chat quietly as you eat your dinner. Your new house feels too big for just the two of you. You laid on your back, staring at the exposed wood ceiling, you blinked a few times to adjust to the all consuming darkness after William had turned off the light. You felt the blankets shift as he crawled into bed next to you. His silhouette outlined by the soft, pale light of the moon that streamed through the window.
“We should get a dog.” He suddenly whispers, making you giggle. “I don’t want you to get scared all by yourself.” He teases.
“Maybe that’ll get you out of that workshop earlier.” He playfully rolls his eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist.
“You know, there’s nothing stopping you from coming to visit me.” He argues with a slight shrug.
“Except that everytime I do I end up sprawled naked on your workbench.” You smirk at him, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the soft material of his tshirt.
“Occupational hazard.” He responds quickly. You both laugh as you cuddle into his chest. He cards his fingers through your hair, his lingering gaze studying your features. “You’re so beautiful, bunny.” Your eyes flutter shut as his lips brush over yours.
His hand paws at your thigh, dragging your leg over his waist as he crushes you against him. You cup his face, deepening the kiss, his beard tickling your palm as you melt into him. Your legs lock around his waist as he rolls on top of you. His large, calloused hands wrap around your sides, pushing your hoodie up and over your head in one swift motion before his lips connect with yours again. You shivered slightly as the cold night air hit your naked body. He practically purrs at the sight of you, his lips hovering over your neck. Your fingers slid into his hair, a small squeal escaping your lips as he bit down hard on your sensitive skin. You bite your lip, letting out a soft hum as he pushes his hips into you, his already growing bulge noticeable through your thin shorts. “You couldn’t keep your eyes off me today, could you rabbit?” He smirks against your skin. You practically drooled over the sight earlier. William had a box resting on each shoulder, his skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat. He paused as he caught sight of you leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over your chest as your eyes raked over him. He smirked, knowing that playful glint in your eye. He smiled as he noticed your cheeks reddening from your position laying below him. He hooks his fingers into the band of your shorts, placing featherlike kisses down your stomach as he eases them down your legs. You moan softly as you feel him nip at the skin of the inside of your thighs. Your back arches off the bed as he brushes his thumb over your sensitive clit, a broken moan leaving your lips. With how busy you had both been due to the move it had been a while since the two of you had been intimate. Your skin was already on fire from the small touch alone, William smirked as he watched your reaction closely. Your hands fisted in the blankets as he tossed your legs over his shoulders, his hot breath bouncing off your already soaked core. His arms slip around your hips, holding you firmly in place as he dove into hungrily lap at your folds. You moan out his name, already attempting to squirm away from his assault. He growls, dragging you closer to him. His fingers dig into your thighs with a bruising force, sure to leave marks behind. Your fingers tangle in his hair as his tongue swirls around your clit through your lace panties. He ate you out like a man starved, your soft gasps and quiet moans echoing in the empty room. You whined, tugging on his hair. “What’s the matter bunny?” He pushes your panties out of the way with his fingers, his skin growing slick with your arousal.
“I need you.” You whined, looking down at him with pleading, teary eyes. William gives in immediately with a soft chuckle, never one to deny you what you wanted. He tugs down your panties, placing soft kisses to your legs as he removes your final article of clothing at an agonizingly slow pace. He slides an arm under your back, pulling you on top of him as he collapses into the mattress. Your hands landed on either side of his head as you lost your balance, you blushed as you realized you were sitting on his broad, strong chest. He brushes your hair behind your ear before both of his hands wrap around your thighs.
“Come sit, bunny.” He coos, your face burning at his casual command. William absolutely loved whenever you sat on his face. However, he was well aware he would have to warm you up to the idea whenever he suggested it. You were always worried you were too heavy, you hadn't shaved, or you hadn't showered, and your husband always reassured you that none of those things were going to pose any problems for him. His beard tickled the inside of your thighs as you hovered over his eager mouth. His hands squeezed at your hips, groaning as your soft skin squished between his fingers. You cry out as he pushes you down onto him, his tongue lapping at your clit before he shoves his way in between your folds.
“Oh, fuck! Will!” You moan, your hips moving on their own. You let out a soft sob everytime his nose bumps against your clit. He growls, pressing hard into your hips as you try to wiggle away, his assault on your already sensitive cunt threatening to push you over the edge mere minutes after he starts. “Baby, it's too much.” Your voice shook as you tried to plead with him, years slipping from your damp eyes onto your cheeks as the coil of pleasure in your core wound tighter. William’s eyes were hazy as they met yours, his face smothered in your thighs as he greedily sucked your clit into his mouth. You tug his hair, making you groan against him. “I'm gonna cum.” It was all too much for you to handle, your body losing its rhythm as your climax threatened to rip through you. William let out an affirmative hum below you, knowing you were close by the slowing of your movements. He decides it's time for him to take over, determined to make you cum on his tongue. His fingers dig into the curve of your ass as he gradually increases the pace of your hips. You yelped as one of his hands suddenly connects with your skin, the mixture of pleasure and slight pain causing your soaked cunt to throb. Broken moans and whines rumbled effortlessly from your mouth, the fine tuned roaming of his hands paired with his expert tongue knowing just how you wanted to be touched to fall apart in his hands. William never got tired of making you finish. The way you would fall absolutely silent and still for a moment, mouth hanging open as no sound dared escape, your body taking time to catch up to the immense pleasure you were feeling. Now was no different. William felt his cock twitch at the sight of your eyes rolling back in your head, that brief moment of absolute silence making his ears ring before you screamed his name. He forced your hips to keep moving, never allowing your pace to slow as he felt your thighs shaking against his cheeks. You practically collapsed as he finally pulled his mouth off of you, a firm hand on your lower back keeping you upright as you shakily moved yourself back onto his chest. William reaches up to caress your cheek, wiping away tears that streaked down your skin. Your eyes felt heavy, you struggled to keep them open and on your husband as you came down from your high.
“Do you want to lay down?” He asks in a soft tone. You nod, collapsing into the mattress with a happy sigh. You hear the soft shuffling of William getting undressed before he gets under the blankets with a groan. You could feel the heat radiating off of him as he moved closer, his fingers ghosting over your waist before your pulled back against him. You can't help but giggle slightly as you feel his erection pressed firmly against your back.
“You want some help with that?” You press yourself into him, his breath catching in his throat at the contact as he tries to stifle a growl.
“You can't even keep your eyes open bunny.” He chuckles, you smile as you feel it rumble in his chest. You let out a dismissive sound, giving him a slight shrug. “How about we compromise?” You glance over your shoulder at him, curiously raising an eyebrow. Your eyes slide shut, letting out a soft hum as you feel his rough hands roaming over your skin. His fingers dip in between your thighs, gently coaxing them apart. You gasp as you feel his member prod at your entrance. “I could always fill you up before we go to bed.” He offers with a smirk, your face instantly flushing at the thought of cuddling up with your husband, trying not to squirm too much as he impaled you on his thick cock. You give him a nervous yet excited nod, the sight of you looking at him so sweetly as you chewed on your lip making it hard for him to not flip you over and pound you into the mattress. William assisted you holding your legs open, one massive paw wrapped around your thigh to allow him room to attempt to fit inside of you. You gripped tightly onto the sheets as he slowly began to push inside, the stretch from making it barely past his tip intense due to the lack of prep. “That's it sweetheart, just relax.” He purrs in your ear, pressing his lips to your shoulder. Another roll of his hips makes you whimper, feeling him slip slightly deeper into your fluttering cunt.
“Fuck, ‘s too big, ‘s not going to fit.” Your words slut as you tried to focus enough to speak. His pace was agonizing, you could feel every inch of him and every thick vein sliding over your velvety walls. You let out a shuddering breath as he finally bottoms out in you, the tip of his cock pressed snugly against your cervix. You felt like you would break in half at the smallest wrong move, even your slight shifting as you cuddled up with William had the edges of your vision going fuzzy.
“Such a good bunny, taking all of me so well.” His lips trail over your neck, you feel him smirk as you clench around him, repeatedly kissing and teasing what he knew was a rather sensitive spot of skin.
Your fingers intertwined with his, his strong arms wrapped protectively around as you're held flush to his chest.
“I love you.” You say quietly, feeling sleep trying it's hardest to pull you under. He gives your hand a soft squeeze.
“And I love you, sweet girl.”
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Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery @loudchaosking (I think that's everyone, if I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!)
#fnaf#fnaf movie#william afton#five nights at freddy's#fnaf movie spoilers#springtrap#steve raglan#william afton x reader#william afton smut#william afton imagines#william afton fnaf#fnaf william afton#william afton x yn#william afton x y/n#william afton x reader smut#william afton x you#fnaf steve raglan#steve raglan x reader#steve raglan x you#steve raglan smut#matthew lillard x reader#matthew lillard smut#matthew lillard imagine#fnaf x y/n#fnaf x you#fnaf x reader#mdni#skeleton writes
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Ooh so i was watching "Sawdes" And i thought what if desi reader and Lando watch that movie together and she explains all the small details to him, like the caste system and how rigid it was, and how it actually was in the villages and Lando's like very curious to know about India.
swades ⊹.˚🪞🕯️♡
ᡣ𐭩 ln x desi!reader ✬
ᡣ𐭩 fluff ✬
masterlist ☾☼
lando was sprawled out on the couch, legs stretched comfortably over the ottoman, a bowl of popcorn precariously balanced on his lap. the tv flickered with the opening credits of "swades," the soothing hum of the background score filling the cozy living room.
"so, what's this one about again?" lando asked, glancing at you with genuine curiosity.
you settle next to him, tucking your feet in under you. "it's a movie about this indian guy who works for nasa and then goes back to his roots and finds a need to give back to his community."
lando inclines his head. "sounds deep."
you smiled. "it is, but it's also very beautiful and so real."
as the movie started, you noticed lando's brows furrow slightly during the scenes that showed mohan—the protagonist—returning to his village. the dusty roads, the humble huts, and the villagers carrying out their daily routines seemed to intrigue him.
"wait, why's he sitting on the ground?" lando asked during a pivotal scene where a villager refused to sit on the same level as mohan.
you stopped the movie and turned to face him. "that's actually a huge part of india's history—the caste system. it's a strict social hierarchy that has been around for thousands of years. people were divided into different groups based on their jobs, and it determined where they could live, what they could do, and even who they could talk to."
lando's eyes widened. "seriously? that's awful. is it still like that now?"
"not officially," you said, picking at a stray thread on your sweater. "the indian government banned caste discrimination years ago, but in rural areas… it's complicated. traditions and mindsets don't change overnight."
he nodded slowly, digesting your words. "so that's why the guy didn't sit on the bench. he's… lower caste?"
"exactly," you said. "he probably grows up thinking he's not good enough for someone like mohan, who's educated and from the city. it's just sad."
lando sat back, scratching his head. "man, we brits really left a mess behind, huh?"
you snorted, unable to hold in the laugh that had begun to rise. "a bit of an understatement there, lando."
he grinned sheepishly. "alright, alright, point taken. i’ll add it to the list of things i’m apologizing for. right under the tea tax."
the movie continued, and you found yourself explaining more details to lando—how arranged marriages worked in rural India, why electricity and running water were still luxuries in many villages, and the deep cultural significance of festivals like dussehra. lando hung onto every word, his questions reflecting genuine interest.
"it's crazy to think about," he said during intermission. "like, i took so much stuff for granted-growing up—clean water, electricity, just even … being treated as an equal. and then this guy's coming to alter the way an entire village lives its life. inspiring,"
you smiled at him, a warmth spreading through your chest. "that's why i love this movie. it's not just a story; it's a reminder of where we come from and how much work there's still left to do."
"also a reminder that my ancestors were the worst," lando added, giving you a mock-serious look. "you're never letting me live this down, are you?"
"nope," you said, popping a piece of popcorn into your mouth. "you're stuck with me and my history lessons."
By the time the credits rolled, lando was wiping at his eyes, laughing sheepishly when you caught him. "alright, i'll admit… that hit harder than i expected."
you chuckled, leaning into his side. "told you it's a masterpiece."
he looked down at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "you'll take me there one day, right? to india? i want to see it for myself."
your heart swelled at his sincerity. "absolutely. but only if you're ready for a sensory overload-the crowds, the colours, the chaos."
lando grinned. "bring it on. as long as i've got you to explain everything."
you smiled, reaching for his hand. "always."
you then realized just how lucky you were-to share a piece of your world with someone who cared enough to listen, to learn, and to embrace it wholeheartedly.
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i tried to add a little humour in this, but like, the movie itself is really serious, so i kept the fic a little serious too. i hope you like it! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)
taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1
#lando norris#f1#formula 1#ln4#formula one#f1 imagine#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando x reader#lando x you#lando imagine#lando x y/n#lando norris x desi!reader#lando x desi!reader#ln x reader
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Ily and ur takes so much you wanna talk about anyone you want x a reader who never got a chance to do a whole bunch of romantic stuff so they have a lot of firsts like reader’s first museum date, coffee date etc
aish darling i hope you don't think i've been ignoring this!!! i've been thinking about it ever since you sent it in, writing's just been a little hit or miss lately (unless its been one very niche topic). going to cheat and use this for two characters to make up for taking so long.
jason todd
he went on a few dates before he died, sweet fumbling things that never really went anywhere. since his resurrection he hasn't really been romantically inclined but those memories carry him through your first few dates. he's so worried the first time he takes you out, nervous that you'll notice he's not as smooth or as practiced as he pretends to be, pulling out your chair for you and always walking between you and the road.
it's almost a relief then, when you confess to being new to all of this too. there's some embarrassment on your part at the confession but he's filled with glee. not only does he get to help you discover what you like to do, but he gets to discover with you what you like to do with him.
he takes you out for coffee (another first!), pulls out two sheets of paper and two pens. suggests the both of you write out dates you've never been on but want to, see how many of them match up. the next 20 minutes are filled with furtive glances, arms curled protectively around your lists, hissed no peeking!s. it's fun to see what you both dream of, what things you think will sweep you off your feet.
never kissed in the back row of a movie theatre, never won a prize for someone at a fair, never fed someone by hand on a picnic. want to wander through a museum with you, want to go to a concert and sing all the words with you, want to cook dinner for you. wish someone would give me flowers, wish we could dance on a rooftop, wish we could dress up and take pictures and go no where.
together the two of you work through your conjoined list, ticking off activities as you go, slowly working out for yourselves what makes butterflies take up residence in your belly, what you think could maybe be shelved. it's fun, being in this together, partners in this (love) crime.
conrad oxford
this boy is so sheltered, i don't think he's ever even thought about going on a date. he definitely grew up on stories of his parents' great love affair but they met at a dinner party and in a ton of group settings before immediately getting engaged so it's not like he's working from a ton of reference from those either?
he asks you on a date - hands shaking and absolutely sure you'll turn him down - so when you say yes he's got absolutely no idea what comes next. he invites you out for afternoon tea (everyone likes sweets right?) and the two of you are suddenly so awkward now that it's in the context of a 'date'. stuttering and talking over one another, grabbing for the tea pot at the same time. it's excruciatingly painful and neither of you know what you're doing.
just as the two of you go to part, he apologizes for not knowing what he's doing. at all. you have to laugh and explain his apologies away because clearly you're no more of an expert. it breaks the weird tension that's been building, the two of you able to laugh now at your terrible facades. you tell him next time you'll plan the date and he agrees with relief.
the two of you take turns planning out what to do. somethings you like and somethings you don't. but you both tell each other beforehand if you've done this before, the two of you agreeing to flail through the embarrassing moments together, rather than try and cover them up in an attempt to impress each other.
you take him to an art exhibit and make each other sick with laughter giving voice to the painted figures. he takes you flower viewing at the park and the two of you get chased by bees. you take him to a coffee tasting and two of you sheepishly agree you don't get any of the tasting notes. he takes you to a food festival and you share bites off each other's plates. you take him to an amusement park and take pictures with all the character mascots you can find. he invites you to a party, all glittering lights and champagne, and the two of you make the society pages the next day.
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#conrad oxford x reader#conrad oxford x you#snack fic#sunnie writes 🌻
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