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ambswoso · 11 months ago

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could’ve been ii - leah williamson

the weddings over. you have to return to barcelona but you didn’t think you’d be seeing leah again so soon and she’s determined to get her girl back, in any capacity.

5.9k words. somehow it's longer than the first part.

leah williamson x mead!reader

“right beth, pack it in. i’m gonna miss my flight.” you laughed as you pushed out of her tight hug.

“you sure you’re gonna be ok?” beth stroked your hair, tucking the hair that had fell from your ponytail behind your ear. “it’s a two-hour flight bethy, i’m sure i’ll be fine.”

“yeah, a two hour flight by yourself to a foreign country!” beth emphasised, ever the protective big sister. “i do live there beth.”

“i know and i hate it. i miss you already.”

“i miss you too, but i really do have to go.” you once again released yourself from beth’s grasp, leaning over to give you new sister-in-law an equally big hug.

you headed over to security and waved at beth and viv one last time. “call me when you land, or i’ll send lucy to your apartment.” you heard beth call as you went, giggling to yourself.

now you just had two hours to kill, by yourself, until you were due at your gate. you may as well get back up to date with paperwork having been away for just over a week. airpods in you started powering through your work, or at least you were until a song you’d long deleted from your playlist started playing in your ears.

your song. both of yours.

leah had a habit of calling everyone ‘my girl’, particularly you when you were together because once upon a time you actually were her girl. the first time she called you it was on your first date. she picked you up, took you for a picnic on an unusually warm february day and dropped you home like the charming woman she always was. as you left leah’s car she called after you, “see you soon for the next one, my girl.” and if you weren’t already smitten from the date then that certainly sealed the deal. the next time she picked you up, ‘my girl’ was playing through her car radio and you decided there and then that it was your song. you only let leah know about it after you’d made things official, but she was fine with it.

the same song that used to fill you with love and remind you of the love of your life, now just made your heart sink. you weren’t her girl anymore and she wasn’t yours.

you gave yourself only 30 seconds to enjoy the song before you skipped to the next. your shoulders had been rid of a particularly heavy weight since yours and leahs blowout at the wedding and you didn’t really feel like having it back just yet. besides you had work to do and a flight to barcelona to catch.

other than that one slip up at the airport, you barely had time to think about leah, being thrown straight back into your work had helped distract you.

“hola chica.” you heard a voice call from outside your office, “¿cómo estás?” (how are you?)

“simplemente perfecta” (simply perfect). you told the tattooed woman who’d since made herself comfortable on your other chair.

“i think that was sarcasm” mapi observed. “tell me all about the wedding.” she leant forward resting her chin in the palms of her hands, smiling at you so innocently.

you’d become very friendly with a lot of the girls that played for barca since starting there, having lucy and kiera introduce you to them had helped. they liked finally having a physio who was similar to them, that enjoyed football, that was around their ages. as of recent and thanks to a knee injury, you had a new number one fan by the name of maría pilar león. she was in your office most days for rehab so naturally you learned a lot about each other.

“nothing to tell, maps. my sister got married, i wore a nice outfit, got drunk, had an argument with my ex-girlfriend, drank some more and flew back.” you quickly explained whilst pulling her file up on your computer, only turning to glance at her once you’d finished talking.

“perdone, repita eso.” (excuse me, repeat that.) mapi gasped. you talked in her physio sessions, a lot, but you’d never discussed you and leah deeming it not fair on her to spread her relationship history around barca femenis football team.

“wore a nice outfit, got drunk.” you smiled.

“you argued with leah? leah williamson?” mapi exclaimed.

“woah, how’d you know it was leah?”

“lucia loves to talk, everyone knows. it’s sweet you didn’t want to tell anyone though.” she smirked at you. “so why the argument?”

“well we never discussed the breakup properly so, i guess it all just came out that night instead.” you told her, glad to have someone impartial to vent to. “hop up on the bed please, mapi. i need to check your still okay to get back on the grass today.”

“and how do you feel?” she probes as she lays back. you’d both gotten very used to talking about your personal lives during mapi’s appointments. the pair of you had spent so much time together that there was no way you could end up not being friends.

“i don’t really know. there’s like a weight lifted off my shoulder because i said everything i’d been dying to say for a while, but it hasn’t like helped. i still miss it, even after getting that bit of closure.”

“was she unkind?” mapi asked.

“not at all.” you responded quickly. “i don’t think she really knew why it had ended to be honest. she seemed a bit shocked. we were both sat there crying for a while.”

“the leah williamson crying?” mapi’s head shot up from where it lay, leaning back on her elbows. “god you must have really done a number on her.”

“trust me she’s not as tough as she makes out, or she didn’t used to be anyway.” mapi took notice of how you fondly you still spoke about leah, of how you still held the memories of you and her close to your heart.

“i don’t think she’s tough at all anymore based on what keira says.” you heard mapi mumble under her breath. “what do you mean? what did keira say?” your questions came at rapid speed in mapi’s direction, the concern and worry you held for leah would probably never go away.

“i’m staying silent.” mapi held her hands up in defence as you gestured for her to sit up from the bed. “but i do think you should talk to keira for once, i can tell it’s been a little awkward between you two.”

“i mean she’s leahs best friend i don’t want to get in the middle so i just stay out of it completely.” you brushed mapi’s comment off. it wasn’t only keira you’d distanced yourself from after yours leahs split and you knew you’d lost a lot of friends in the process, probably through your own fault rather than anyone else’s. “right, you’re all clear. get your ass back out on the grass maria. i’ll come check in in a little bit.” sending her one final smile to send her off.

you thought mapi had left, thoughts of the team knowing about your previous relationship and what keira may have possibly said ran through your head as you began to wipe down the treatment table where mapi once lay.

“lo siento if i’m overstepping but i feel as if we’re good enough friends that i can say this to you.” mapi’s voice scared you from the doorway that she evidently hadn’t moved from yet. “i can see you still love her, i mean you’ve been here for over a year and you’ve not been with anyone else or even tried.”

“well i-“

“don’t even try because i already know you haven’t, mi amiga.” she sent you a knowing look as you rolled your eyes. “you should fight for it, for her, if it’s something you really want because from what you’ve said and what i’ve heard it sounds like she wants to fight for you. i don’t know what happened at home between the two of you, but it must have hurt, but you said yourself you miss the relationship and i think you miss her as well. everything you get is meant for you, y/n/n, and i know you believe that too. just ask yourself if in 5 years, you’re still going to be wishing you’d never left because i think you will.” this time maria actually left the room and with it left you with a lot to mull over.

“stupid footballers, always giving their stupid advice. idiota.” you scoffed.

“i heard that.”

you filled out the rest of mapi’s paperwork before you went out to see how she was doing back on the grass. it’s quite hard to fill in someone’s medical forms whilst simultaneously having thoughts of your ex-girlfriend spinning around your head but nevertheless you got it done and made your way outside. you were happy with what you saw from mapi, shooting her a quick thumbs up as she waved before trying to disappear back to your office as to not disturb the other girls.

“hola guapa.” (hi beautiful). alexia shouted to you from the pitch as she saw where mapi’s attention was momentarily diverted.

“te hemos echado de menos.” (we’ve missed you). salma called out as she ran to where you were and pulled you in the hug, others following along in her footsteps.

“hola chicas, i’ve missed you too.” you smiled with salmas arm still wrapped around your shoulders. “vuelve y entrena por favor.” (go back and train, please.)

“tu español es tan bueno ahora, hermosa.” (your spanish is so good now, beautiful). alexia smiled at you as she was the next to pull you into a hug. most people who you met were surprised to hear how welcoming and friendly alexia had been to you.

when you first moved to barcelona, it’s safe to say it wasn’t under the best circumstances. just coming off the back of a painful end to your relationship, you’d retreated inside yourself and in hindsight moving away from both your family and friends probably didn’t help but you knew you couldn’t stay where you were. keira and lucy were there who you of course knew through leah and beth, but the last thing you wanted to do was cause any friction for them and their national captain, so you kept to yourself and just got to work.

alexia was near the end of her acl recovery when you started your new position, immediately being put in charge of alexia’s rehab and care as you’d had more than enough acl experience working for arsenal. she was a lot sweeter than you’d imagined, her injury putting her in a vulnerable position and you were right there alongside her. you were both healing in your own ways, alexia physically and you emotionally, and your bond quickly formed through that. you didn’t just become alexia’s go to for her physical needs but also her emotional, supporting her through many ups and downs that came with her recovery, and she could never thank you enough for that. when the both of you had spare time, she’d take you around barcelona and had introduced you to her friends and family. you were right there on the side lines watching proudly as she made her comeback in the la liga match against sporting huelva and the friendship continued to blossom even after her recovery.

“training is nearly finished. no te preocupes.” (don’t worry.) the famously hardworking and driven captain brushed off the end of training, knowing how excited the girls would be to see you again even if it had only been just over a week. “cenamos esta noche?” (dinner tonight?)

“sí, suena bien.” (yeah, sounds good.). alexia had also been a big help in you learning spanish, something you’d been determined to do since arriving in barcelona and you’d come a lot further than keira put it that way.

“y/n, can i talk to you for a second?” speak of the devil, keira came over to grab you as the rest of the girls headed into the changing rooms.

“yeah, of course. everything okay?” you asked her, secretly hoping she’d be coming to talk to you about an injury rather than leah, but you had no such luck.

“i heard about the wedding.” keira starts and you let out a sigh. “i know this probably doesn’t help but she’s really torn up y/n.”

“yeah, me and her both.” you scoffed defensively. you weren’t really angry at leah anymore, so you weren’t sure why you were acting like this, especially towards keira, but after being pretty torn up yourself for nearing a year and a half you didn’t feel like hearing how it was only now affecting leah. “i’m sorry, it was just a lot that’s all.”

“she keeps asking about you. told me to keep an eye on you, check if you were doing okay.” kiera revealed, “even before this.”

“really?” eyebrows raised, you questioned keira, thinking that leah pretty much continued having the time of her life after you moved away.

“all the time. she still cares about you and you were really good together. you were good for her.”

“she was good for me too, until she wasn’t.” you recalled, a sad smile gracing your face which didn’t go unnoticed.

“and i’m sorry you lost the rest of us too. she’s not the only one that’s been missing you. i feel like we haven’t had a proper conversation in ages.” she laughed.

“yeah, probably not.” you laughed a long with her. “but that’s probably more so my fault, just didn’t want to cause any tension, you know? so i’m sorry.”

“you really don’t have anything to apologise for, y/n.” she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and lead you inside so she could get showered and changed before the hot water was no more.

“i’ve done enough crying this week, don’t make me start again.” you joked as you parted ways, you heading back to your office to get back to work for the afternoon and keira to the changing room. “oh and heads up, she’s coming to the game on saturday, bye!”

brilliant. great. fuck.

you’d expected to have a little bit more time before having to see leah again, let alone speak to her. you and her hadn’t had to come face to face for a year and a half and now you were seeing her twice inside of a month. you’d hoped you could get over your meeting by doing the same thing as last time, avoiding her, but turns out the universe had different plans this time. stupid universe.

you tried to distract yourself from the imminent encounter with leah and went to dinner with alexia, ingrid and maria, knowing that was a safe place where leah wouldn’t be bought up for a couple of hours. you always had a good time with those girls and were grateful that they’d took you under their wing even though they really didn’t have to, you weren’t even on the team.

another story post of you and alexia looking particularly friendly at dinner. leah had seen enough of these over the last year and a half but this one for some reason stung her just a bit more than the rest. she used her secret instagram account enough to realise how close you were with certain members of the barca team. she was happy that you’d settled in over there and yet she felt a pang in her heart at the fact that used to be you and her and her teammates. it still should be.

leah wasn’t sure whether you knew about her coming to the game. she wasn’t sure whether she should go at all really but she hadn’t seen keira in a while, having missed out on the last national camp due to her knee. you came first though, more so now than ever. after your intense conversation, if you can call it that, at beth’s wedding, leah realised how much she’d dropped the ball towards the end of your relationship. you weren’t coming first to her; you weren’t being prioritised and yet you still did that for her. perhaps she was a bit naïve to think that you’d simply fallen out of love with her and that you’d grown apart naturally. everyday she regretted the fact she just let you walk out the door without fighting for you. she truly didn’t realise what she had until it was gone. she used to come back to a warm home with candles lit, dinner prepared and a stupid cheesy film ready to watch. realising that the warm home she felt she had, that you made, felt the exact opposite to you elicited gut wrenching feelings for her.

had she ever stopped loving you? absolutely not. had she stopped appreciating you? yes, which she now realises had been her fatal flaw. stuck in her own head coming off the back of the euros success, dealing with fame and recognition that she didn’t realise she’d ever have. everybody wanted a piece of the england captain but she forgot to save a vital part of herself for you. this realisation had triggered something in leah, she needed you more than you’d ever know and she knew you needed her too. she’d give you everything you ever wanted, she’d pull the sun out of the sky for you if you asked and she wanted to show you, in one way or another. if you shot her down, or if she was too late then so be it but leah would be damned if she didn’t try her very hardest.

getting lost in her own thoughts she hadn’t realised she’d liked the instagram story you’d posted of yourself at dinner. thanking god, she was on her second account, until she realised she wasn’t religious and she was most definitely on her actual public verified account. you’d definitely seen it. you were out to dinner with your new friends, potentially a new girlfriend, and she’d just liked your story. your ex-girlfriend had just liked your story. maybe it would make it less weird if she followed you again and then liked your story, so she did, and it was still weird. leah felt a little like a stalker and maybe she was doing a bit of stalking, but she thought it was safe. now she was definitely nervous about seeing you on saturday.

you’d long been home from dinner, only posting about it once you’d all left the restaurant. fans could be a little bit crazy sometimes and you knew both barca and arsenal fans followed you on social media with you being both beth’s little sister and heavily featured on the girl’s accounts at one point or another. the notification came through to your phone as you were mindlessly scrolling through tiktok having tried to fall asleep and failed, your mind running rampant with thoughts of seeing leah again. as if someone had read your mind a notification came through from that exact woman. oh god, she’d liked your story. why would she like your story? why would she like your story and then follow you? maybe she was trying to make it less weird before the weekend. well, if that was her aim she hadn’t succeeded.

“pick up, pick up, pick up.” you mumbled under your breath, pacing back and forth across your bedroom. “hello?” a voice came from the other side of the line.

“hello? oh, thank god you answered.” a sigh of relief left your mouth as your best friend picked up the phone, albeit she didn’t sound very happy to be answering but, nonetheless.

“what do you want? it’s like midnight, i’m trying to sleep.”

“well if i can’t sleep neither can you. leah just refollowed me on instagram.” you practically shouted at her down the phone.

“okay, and?”

“and liked my story.” you paused and she didn’t answer, only hearing a huff down the phone so you continued, “of me and the girls out to dinner, specifically a picture of me and alexia.”

“no, i meant and as in like ‘and what’s your point?’. she followed you, you also used to sit on her face until like a year ago.” she pointed out, crudely.

“oh my god!” you grimaced, “she also stopped following me as soon as i stopped doing that so this is a big deal.”

“y/n/n, i’m not being funny but it’s really not. i mean you saw her like last weekend. she’s probably just trying to make amends.” she points out, just wanting to go back to sleep at this point and trying to make you feel better before she goes.

“but this just makes this weekend so much more awkward now. like-“

“wait hold on, the weekend? what about the weekend?” she cuts you off. you realise you may have failed to mention that you had an inevitable encounter with leah approaching, having been distracted since keira told you earlier in the day.

you sighed, “she’s coming to the quarter final. to see keira.”

“well why didn’t you lead with that?” she was definitely awake now. “you’re gonna see her. she’s gonna talk to you.”

“do you not think i know that? that’s why i’m freaking out even more.”

“no don’t freak out. it’s a good sign.” she reassured you. “she’ll probably try and speak to you and you didn’t leave things on a very good note, so the follow and the like is a good sign.”

“do you think?” you asked, biting down on your freshly manicured nails. another €40 down the drain now you’d have to get them done again.

recalling the wedding your best friend tells you, “i know it’s a good sign. you didn’t see her after you argued at the wedding. you might’ve been crying in the bathroom, but she was in bits too. when i saw her, she was practicall shaking y/n, like really upset. i mean she made sure i knew where you were and went to you so it’s obvious, she still cares about you.”

“keira said the same thing.” you smiled to yourself.

“so, stop panicking. try and get some sleep, okay?” she tells you and you nod, forgetting she can’t actually see you, so you hum in response instead. “right, i have to go because i have a normal job that starts at 8am. not all of us can be a doctor to the stars.”

“i’m a physiotherapist.” you corrected her.

“you say tomato, i say tomato. goodnight, love you.”

“love you too.”

trying not to think about it, the next few days passed like a blur, filled with twinges of knees and possible injuries to which thankfully none were serious. with little anticipation, gameday rolled around. were you for sure going to see leah? no. was it a strong possibility? yes, especially with keira’s meddling.

having a lovely view, thanks to alexia’s assurance, you watched from crowd as barca beat brann with a comfortable 3-1, earning themselves a place in the champions league semi-final. you applauded and cheered for the girls from your seat. frido soon noticed you though beckoning you to come join their celebrations on the pitch. as soon as the other girls noticed, it was clear that no one was taking no for an answer so you climbed over the barriers and with security reassured you weren’t a very dedicated fan, alexia helped you down to the pitch.

you hadn’t seen leah yet today, beginning to think that maybe you’d come away unscathed, but she’d spotted you within the first 5 minutes of her arrival. maybe it was because she was actively looking for you but there was no proof of that so. she watched on from the pitch where keira had summoned her as the barca girls made you come down from the stands to celebrate with them. you never missed an opportunity to do that at arsenal either as leah’s girlfriend, beth’s sister or their physio. you were always there for the matches come rain or shine, win or lose and it was becoming increasingly more obvious that you weren’t there anymore. the conti cup final was happening in a couple of days and leah wished nothing more than for you to be in the stands where you belonged cheering her on, but instead you’d be here.

“oi!” keira shoves leah out of her thoughts, “did you listen to a word i just said?” and looks around to see what had garnered leahs attention to which she found you in her sights. “stupid question, obviously not.”

“sorry.” leah mumbled, still yet to actually look away from you.

“you’re not sorry. you should go talk to her.” keira began her meddling.

“yeah maybe in a bit.” leah smiled sadly at keira, the falseness of it not fooling her best friend for a second.

you finally caught eyes with leah as alexia turned you in the direction of a funny sign that had her attention, but you found the blonde stood 15 metres from you a lot more interesting, especially the fact that she was already looking at you. so interesting that you hadn’t noticed alexia leaving until you felt her squeeze your arm and heard her tell you she’d be back in a minute. well now you were alone, the girls making their walk around the pitch to celebrate with the fans on the other side. you distracted yourself with a conversation with one of the medical staff that had been on the staff for today’s match, they informed you of the little niggles and twinges some of the girls had complained of during the game and half time.

“muchas gracias. que pase buena noche.” (thank you so much, have a nice evening.) you thanked the woman with a smile as the rest of the medical team packed up to leave.

“de nada. buenas noches.” (you’re welcome. goodnight.)

pulling your phone out you made a note of what she’d told you. “hi.”

there she was. you wondered how long it would take between you seeing her and her approaching. 10 minutes apparently. “hi.”

“hello.” she said again, you giggling at the awkwardness she never seemed to grow out of. “wait i already said that.”

“yep, you did.”

leah was relieved that you were laughing, better yet that she was the one making you laugh, or even speaking to her after the way things had been left at beth and viv’s wedding. “can we talk?”

“ye-“ you were interrupted by a hold on your arm from a certain spanish midfielder.

“estás bien?” (are you okay?) alexia asked, directing her attention to you not yet looking at leah. alexia knew all about your past relationship, you’d told her in one of your numerous physio sessions as she had told you about hers. well you hadn’t ever told her who it was only that said ex-girlfriend played alongside your sister but she’d figured it out with the small help of mapi telling her exactly who she was.

“si, soy buena.”(yeah, i’m good.) you smiled at her, not sure why she looked so worried for you. leah noticed your smile reached your eyes, a real genuine smile you were sending alexia. one she hadn’t coaxed out of you in some time, and she felt her heart sting once more. it was one thing seeing yours and alexia’s friendship or whatever it was through her phone screen but seeing it stand directly in front of her was worse than she thought.

“hola, leah.” once she saw that you were okay and seemingly unaffected (you were affected, just keeping it under wraps) by leahs approach, alexia turned her attention to her fellow blonde national captain.

“hi. good game.” leah pulled alexia in for a handshake, trying not to let the jealousy that was bubbling inside her show on the outside.

“oh, thank you. nice to see you.” alexia gave her a tight smile as she squeezed your hand and headed to follow the rest of the girls back inside. alexia was worried for her new friend, not wanting to see her return to the headspace she was in when she first arrived in barcelona.

you and leah headed back towards the stands where coincidentally you’d only been sat a few rows apart. “how are you?” she asked as she gave you a hand to help you back over the barrier.

“yeah, i’m good. how are you?”

“been better.” she sent you a sad smile. “i know you probably haven’t got much time but i just wanted to see if you’re up for getting a coffee or something before i go home on monday?”

you were both surprised and not surprised at leah’s question. you’d expected to have a conversation with her but thought it might’ve happened today. mapi’s words of advice rang through your head. you did miss her a lot, you thought about her all the time. maybe having that closure without the arguing would help you process this. clearly, you’d been doing a pretty shitty job by yourself for the past year and a half if every time you saw her all the feeling came rushing back.

“yeah actually, i’d like that. i’m free tomorrow morning?” you proposed.

“wait really? are you joking?” the smile appeared on her face. shed asked the question half expecting you to say no.

“obviously i’m not joking you idiot.” you laughed at her expression.

“tomorrows good. tomorrows so good.” she told you, still smiling widely. in reality, tomorrow wasn’t good. she had plans to go for breakfast with keira and her girlfriend tomorrow, but keira could wait. they’ll get lunch instead.

should someone be this stressed to see their ex-girlfriend again? probably not. should they also be this stressed over what they look like to see their ex-girlfriend again? also, probably not.

you’d been up 2 hours before you were supposed to be after not sleeping much at all in the first place. you’d gotten your outfit ready last night, declining your invitation to the club with the team to celebrate to ensure that you had a fresh head in the morning. deciding that the outfit you’d chosen last night wasn’t good enough and you hated your entire wardrobe ended with about 4 outfit changes before you finally got in your car, 20 minutes after you were supposed to leave.

“i’m so sorry i’m late leah.” you rushed out as you sat across from her at the table shed been perched at for 25 45 minutes.

“don’t worry, just had me thinking you weren’t going to show up.” she chuckled nervously, sliding the drink shed bough you over to you. “one iced latte with oat milk and one shot of vanilla and a shot of hazelnut.”

“you remembered.” you smiled at her. your coffee order had never changed in the years leah had known you and it hadn’t since. if you needed to be in work earlier than leah, there would be an iced latte on your desk promptly when she walked through the doors of the training centre.

“hard not to remember when you probably consist of 90% iced latte.”

“so has keira shown you the barcelona sights?”

“a few. found my favourite one yesterday at the game though.” she flirted. old habits die hard, i guess.

“i see you haven’t lost your charm miss williamson.” you laughed lightly. both of you dancing around the real reason leah asked you to meet.

“you seem really happy here, y/n/n.” leah pointed out. a bittersweet feeling to know that you were thriving somewhere else when she believed you should be in london, with her, but at least you were happy.

“yeah its been rough, i wont lie to you.” leah winced at your words, realising she’d been the reason for your move in the first place so she had no right to wish you were back in london. this was your home now. “you were a big part of my time in london so we said goodbye and then i had to say goodbye.”

“i know we left beth and viv’s on a sour note, but i really am genuinely sorry. for everything. the breakup, the neglect, the argument at the wedding. all of it.” she reaches across the small coffee table to grab your hand, something she always did to stop you biting at your painted nails.

“you still have it?” you borderline gasped at the sparkle you noticed on leahs hand. as soon as you noticed she retracted her hand, as if moving it would somehow take back what you’d seen, but you held tightly.

“erm-“ she cleared her throat, not expecting you or anyone else to see that the ring you bought her still holds pride of place on her hand some days, today being one of them. “yeah, i just like to have it on sometimes. reminds me of a better time.” in reality, she was wearing it at the wedding and hadn’t taken it off since. how could she take the ring off if she hadn’t stopped thinking about the girl who gave it to her?

“i didn’t mean to be so harsh towards you the other week, le.” you told her as you let go of her hand, falling back into your seat. “i think i just got overwhelmed. the whole day was a lot, you just got the brunt of it.”

“trust me i deserved it. if all i get of you these days is to be your punching bag, i’ll take it. it’s the least i can do.”

you chuckled sadly, knowing exactly what lead you and leah to this point but still wondering how you got here at the same time. “i miss you, y/n/n. i know i said it at the wedding, but it’s been a year and a half and some days i think i might be over it, that i might be ready to move on but i’m not and i’m really scared that i never will be.”

“i don’t want you to think that i don’t miss you because i do. all the time.” you confessed to her. “but that doesn’t change the fact that what happened and what you did really hurt me, leah. towards the end i was so afraid of you going to an event or a trip and leaving me that i didn’t realise i’d left myself behind already.”

leah hung her head. never in her life had she been so ashamed of how she’d treated someone, especially someone who loved and cared about her so deeply. you would have done anything for leah and a lot of the times you did. she always came first with you, and you did to her, until all of a sudden you didn’t. deep down you knew that it was partly to do with leah dealing with the sides of fame she never had to deal with before, becoming a household name within the space of a few weeks during the euros, but you also knew that you just weren’t her priority anymore whether she meant to do it or not.

“but i’m really tired of being angry leah.” you continued, the word ‘but’ sending a slither of hope through leah as she looked back towards you. “and i do miss you, so id really like it if we could be friends again.”

“i’d really like that too. having you back in any capacity is more than i deserve and more than good enough for me.” leah smiled wider than you’d seen in a while. even on your stalks through instagram you knew that half those smiles were fake.

“friends?”

“friends.”

the long awaited part 2! decided there will be at least 1-2 more parts of this just bare with me. enjoy🤍

#awfc #awfc x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson fanfic #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #lionesses #woso one shot

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velvrei · 1 month ago

Text

caught in the heat

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

summary: you and rafe meet at a random party & instantly hit it off… and eventually go upstairs to “talk.”

word count: 1k

…

nsfw below the cut

the music’s loud, the house packed, lights low and bodies pressed too close. you weren’t even gonna come out tonight, but your friends dragged you along—and now you’re leaning against the kitchen counter with a red cup in hand, watching some drunk dude try to do a backflip off a couch.

“ten bucks says he lands straight on his face,” a voice says next to you. deep, smooth, a little cocky.

you turn—and he’s tall, a little skinny but with arm muscles, wearing a white t-shirt, two pieces of hair framing his face. there’s a hint of arrogance in the way he stands, his jaw set and eyes cold, but there’s also a wildness about him, like he could snap at any moment. his t-shirt clings just right to his chest, and he has that signature swagger—like he knows exactly how much power he holds over everyone around him.

rafe cameron.

you know who he is. everyone does.

you raise an eyebrow. “you say that like you’ve seen him do it before.”

he grins. “i’ve seen him fail before.”

you both laugh when the guy misses the flip entirely and knocks over a lamp.

rafe leans closer, smelling like clean cologne and a little weed. “you new around here?”

“nah,” you says, sipping your drink. “you just haven’t been paying attention.”

his eyes drop to your mouth, then back up—slow. deliberate. “i’m paying attention now.”

it’s electric.

like the room disappears around you two.

…

twenty minutes later, you’re in the hallway just off the living room, half-hidden in the dark, your back pressed to the wall, his hands on your waist, mouth locked with yours like he’s starving.

he kisses deep, with tongue and teeth and heat, one hand sliding up your thigh, the other tangled in your hair.

you pull him closer, moaning into his mouth, nails scratching at his chest through his shirt.

he groans, breath hot against your neck. “you’re gonna get me in trouble.”

“you started it,” you breath, tugging on his hoodie.

his eyes flick up the stairs, then back to you. “come with me.”

your heart’s racing as he grabs your hand and leads you through the crowd, up the stairs, down the hall to a quiet room.

as soon as the door shuts, you’re on each other again: his hands under your top, your fingers dragging through his curls, his mouth everywhere at once.

“you sure?” he murmurs against your skin.

you nod, breathless. “been sure since the kitchen.”

he grins—and then it’s all heat and tangled limbs and that feeling of finally.

he kisses you like he’s starving—hands on your waist, mouth dragging from your lips to your neck and lower, like he’s mapping you out inch by inch.

you barely notice the way he walks you backwards toward the bed until your legs hit the edge and he’s easing you down, slow, like he doesn’t want to rush even though his breathing is already ragged.

rafe looks down at you like he can’t believe this is real. “you don’t know what you’re doing to me right now,” he mutters, pushing your shirt up with careful fingers, pausing just long enough to catch your eyes.

you arch up into his hands, your skin prickling under his touch. “then stop talking and show me.”

that’s all it takes.

his clothes are gone, your shirt’s somewhere on the floor, and you’re pulling him back down, kissing him like you’ll forget how if you stop for a second.

his hands are everywhere—sliding up your sides, gripping your thighs, brushing over spots that make your stomach tighten.

he’s gentle, but not shy—like he wants to take his time but he’s been wanting this way too long.

his voice is all rough murmurs and little groans right against your skin, like, “you feel so good,” and “you’re driving me crazy,” and you can’t stop your hips from moving under him, needing more, closer, all of it.

you’re both a little messy with it—hands fumbling, laughter mixing in with moans, the kind of chemistry that’s so real it buzzes under your skin.

at one point, he pulls back just enough to look at you—eyes dark, lips kiss-swollen.

“you’re trouble,” he whispers, then kisses you so slow and deep it makes your head spin.

“and you like that,” you breathe.

“i love that.”

it’s hot and slow and charged, and by the time you’re both tangled up in the sheets, breathing heavy, skin flushed, you don’t remember what song was playing downstairs or who else was at the party.

just the way he looks at you now—like everything’s changed.

…

rafe cameron taglist: @rafestoothbrush @xavierslvrr

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tinylilacbun · 6 months ago

Text

Saving Him

Summary: You save Rafe from being attacked by Groff, getting hurt in the process.

Pairing: daddy!rafe x little!reader

Warnings: age regression (briefly at the end), hand injury, blood, knife, cursing

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The bike comes to a stop near a well and Rafe waits for you to get off first before he slides off as well, taking off his goggles and you do the same.

You cough, your throat burning from the sandy wind and lack of hydration, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

Rafe stands in front of you, placing his hand on your arms he lowers his head to meet your eyes. "You good?"

"Mhm...just thirsty." You rasp and he turns to Groff.

"Get some water." He demands and you all walk over to the well, only to realize there's no water in it and Rafe sighs. "Don't worry I'll get you something soon, yeah?"

You simply nod, going to sit on the edge of the well while Rafe talks to Groff.

"Tell us about this crown. What is it worth? Street value, rough estimate." He crouches down in front of you with a hand on your knee he points a finger at the man you don't trust at all, having had a bad feeling about him the whole time. "This shit better be worth our time. Do you understand?"

"Oh, it's worth a fortune." Groff states. "It's one of the most sought-after relics in the world. Owned by Caesar, hunted by Napoleon, said to grant wishes and make the bearer indomitable."

"Holy shit! Holy shit!" Rafe curses, standing back up straight again to face Groff. "That wasn't even close to answering my question. What is it worth?"

"Hundreds of millions."

Rafe purses his lips, almost scoffing. "You're full of shit."

"Am I?"

"Hundreds of millions." He repeats. "Wait I- what, you got a buyer or something?"

"Yeah, I got a buyer." Groff answers confidentially.

"Where?"

"Ever been to Lisbon?" He smirks and you scoff at the way he talks as if this whole situation isn't bothering him. That he screwed Rafe freaking Cameron over 400k.

Rafe smiles, approaching him. "Look at you, Groff. A'ight. Always got a plan. Well, you screwed me and my girl. And then you lost my money to those mercenaries, a'ight? So now you're gonna be my bitch."

You smirk at that, that's your man right there.

"And if you're lucky, I give you a little taste on the back end, okay?" He continues, leaning a little closer to whisper so you can't hear. "If I let you live."

On Rafe's demand Groff rolls out the map beside you, showing you both how to read it with the strange necklace thingy that shows things you can't see on the map.

Rafe hands it to you so you can take a look as well and you gasp that it actually works, now this is something you'll rub in his face whenever he says magic is not real, your little self beaming at the sight and begging to make a remark. "That's crazy..."

You give it back to Rafe, not listening how Groff talks about how the crown gives power, only lifting your head when you see him pulling something out of his pocket in your peripheral vision.

Suddenly Groff lungs at Rafe and you instantly react before Rafe even gets the chance and push him to the side just as Groff wields the knife.

You yelp when the knife cuts the inside of your hand, taking a few steps back to clutch your wrist, hissing in pain.

Rafe hurriedly gets back on his feet and takes control of the situation, seeing how Groff now balances himself to not fall into the well behind him, giving him a little nudge to make him fall backwards.

Groff's yell has you sighing in relief momentarily, knowing he isn't a bother anymore, seeing how Rafe leans over the edge.

"HA HA! CHECKMATE BITCH!" Rafe screams.

You whimper, screwing your eyes shut tightly and trying to blend out the stinging pain in your hand, starting to sniffle. "Daddy..."

Rafe turns at the sound of you crying for him, rushing over to you. "You idiot. C'mere let me see..."

You yelp when he takes your hand. He examines the injury and your bottom lip quivers at the amount of blood, the scent of copper penetrating your nostrils. "Hurts..."

"I know, I know. Come, we gotta wrap it up." He shushes you, leading you back over to the bike.

He rummages through the sidecar for anything that resembles alcohol, luckily finding a small bottle together with a rag and unscrewing the cap of the bottle he grabs your hand again. "A'ight, this is gonna sting...here bite into my arm yeah?"

He pushes back the sleeve of the jacket and the shirt he's wearing, lifting his arm to your mouth so you can bite into it which he knows you most definitely will.

"Okay, one, two-" he pours the alcohol over your hand without waiting to three, knowing it would hurt a little less when it's unexpected.

You bite into his forearm with all your might, a loud whine escaping your throat, your eyes shut tightly again.

Rafe doesn't even wince, continuing to disinfect the wound thoroughly all the while soothing you with assuring words.

"There we go. All over, you're so brave, I'm proud of you..." He murmurs, pulling his arm away from your mouth he wraps the rag around your hand, tying it securely to prevent any more blood loss.

You're still sniffling, burying your face in his chest. "M'sorry...had to save you, daddy."

Rafe sighs, wrapping his arms around you he kisses the top of your head. He's actually so fucking proud of you for your courage but he's also mad that you got hurt only because he let his guard down for a second.

"Don't be sorry. Everything's okay." He says, pulling back to look down at you. "Let's go get this crown."

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

#little!reader #daddy!rafe cameron x little!reader #daddy!rafe x little!reader #daddy!rafe cameron #daddy!rafe #age regression

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gotaksboyfie · 12 days ago

Note

hiiiiiiii I absolutely love love your ficssss

Theres rarely any whc writers and I got so excitedddd when I saw ur acc

can I request Baku x male or gn reader where reader gets into a fight if u do end up doing this please don't make the reader all vulnerable and a softie that can't fight 😭

patched up

gif creds: @slytherinshua

pairing baku x male reader

summary on the way to baku's house, you're stopped by some ganghak students and get into a fight. fortunately, baku steps in just in time

word count 1.4k

warnings/tags violence, friends to lovers

as you type baku's address into google maps, you groan internally when you realize that the path leads almost directly into a street some ganghak high kids have claimed for yourself. the one day you wear your uniform, seriously?

there were no other ways to get to baku's house, so you brace yourself anyways. silently praying for that area to be empty, you keep your head slightly down to make yourself less noticeable.

"no fucking way, is that some eunjang bastard?" a gruff voice echoes through the street. you look over and see 2 boys smoking under a street lamp looking straight at you.

you tear your eyes away and walk faster, hoping to lose their interest. unfortunately, the opposite happens.

"hey, don't ignore us dumbass!" well fuck, now they sound annoyed. it's fine, you think to yourself, you'll just keep walking. you'll be out of their sight soon.

"this fucking- go get him," you hear one of them say.

you hear footsteps running behind you, and you turn around in time to see the guy started to make his way towards you. you slightly panic, opting to weave your way through the alleys. you can hear them running after you. but it seems like your luck has ran out when you come face to face with a dead end.

you turn around to see the same guys block the entrance of the alleyway. you shift on your feet into a subtle fighting stance, preparing for them.

"well well well, who do we have here?" one of then grins, "you didn't think we'd let you leave, right?"

"look, can we just chill out? i don't want to fight," you try reasoning with them even though you know it's futile.

one of them starts approaching you and you step forward and land a right hook straight onto his face. he sputters and stumbles, charging back at you with his torso wide open.

you duck to avoid his incoming punch and hit him in his side. he manages to punch you off balance, and you're sent sprawling on the floor.

out the corner of your eye, you notice someone else closing in on you. that's just unfair. a 2v1? really? you send a rough hit with your palm that lands directly on the first guy's chin, knocking him out for hopefully a long time.

that's one guy down, another one left. woohoo? there's no time for you to catch your breath though, because your left shoulder erupts in pain as he lands a nasty shot on it. you groan in pain and swing back at him. hitting his nose, you hear a resounding crack! and he stumbles back in pain.

"you fucking bitch!" he roars, and you're swept off your feet from a powerful punch to your stomach. that really fucking hurt. ow. you can't even gasp in pain before someone grabs you by your hair, pulling you up. it's the one that was knocked out, how'd he get up so quickly?

"hey listen up, you fucked with the wrong people, you hear me?" he's practically breathing in your face with how close his face is to yours. "hope you enjoy this bea-" you punch his jaw before he can finish his sentence, making him let you go in shock.

his friend unfortunately lands a punch straight to your cheek, and you do the same in response. you're getting tired, and all you want to do is go see baku.

you soon realize that you need to get out of there fast as fatigue starts to hit you. another punch leaves your nose bleeding, and you barely dodge another. four arms swinging at you and they can land a shot only half the time, how bad can their aim be?

still, you don't want to keep fighting. landing a couple punches (and kicks), you distance yourself far enough to catch a breather.

you look around and realize that the exit of the alleyway is open. you try to run out only to run into a firm chest. you stumble back with an oomph before a warm hand pulls you back into the same chest. you glance up tiredly and see- baku???

"baku? what are you doing here?" you asked, glancing back at the ganghak students.

"you were late, and i heard some noise over here," baku replies. baku's hand is still on your back, holding you firmly against his cheet. flustered, you glance back up at baku who's busy looking at the other guys.

"stay here alright?" baku gently guides you to sit down at the entrance while he goes in, probably preparing to fight. still dazed, you watch as he effortlessly finishes up the job.

it was honestly pretty hot seeing baku beat them up. the display of strength made you fall harder for him.

"are you okay?" baku asks, offering a hand to help you up. you nod and wince at the soreness of your face, but you take it anyway. and wow. oh wow. you're holding baku's hand and he's not letting go. oh my god he's holding your hand, you freak out in your head.

baku starts walking you towards his house, his hand still in yours. his hands are warm, and you step closer to him.

"what happened?" baku questions, looking at you as he analyzes your injuries.

"i was on my way after cram school, and just ran into them. i don't know what their problem was, but i'm fine now," you ramble. you can feel baku's eyes on you and it brings a slight flush to your cheeks.

baku lets out a sigh, "those ganghak bastards don't know when to stop. i'm just glad you're okay. i have some bandaids at home, so i can patch you up," his voice picks up a lighter tone at the end, going back to his regular upbeat self.

"thanks baku, sorry for dragging you into this". you look down at your intertwined hands, and celebrate mentally.

"if it's for you, i'd do it anytime." baku's words makes your heart flutter. does he know what he's implying? you feel baku come to a stop and he opens the door to his house.

you look around his house as baku leads you to sit on the couch while he grabs some supplies. your cheek aches and it's definitely bruised. your nose stopped bleeding after you found baku but it's still sore.

leaning your head back, you make eye contact with baku who's standing directly above you. "what the fuck-" you jolt up in surprise at seeing him so suddenly, "warn a guy, at least baku" you complain.

"my bad" baku smiles widely and pulls out a small towel. "here, let me clean you up."

a comfortable silence envelops the room as baku sits next to you, lightly wiping away the blood from your face. his other hand is cupping your face and if you didn't know better, you'd think he was about to kiss you.

balu puts away the towel, and finishes with a bandage for your cheek. as he applies the bandage, your eyes quickly flit between baku's eyes and his lips, catching his attention.

"my eyes are up here," baku teases, licking his lips unconsciously.

"s.. sorry," you stutter. the embarrassment of getting caught must refelct on your face because on top of feeling your cheeks heat up, baku suddenly has a shit eating grin.

baku clears his throat, "y'know.. if you wanna kiss me so bad you should just go for it. it's the least i deserve for this, right?"

getting a boost of confidence, you lean forward and softly kiss him. baku stills for a second before reciprocating, pulling you closer to him. you break the kiss to catch your breath, and look at baku shyly.

baku cups your face again and leans in for another kiss. he bites at your bottom lip and deepens the kiss. this time baku breaks the kiss. slightly panting, you starts to speak.

"baku, i've liked you for.. a while now-," and baku cuts you off with a small peck. he smiles at you and laughs softly.

"i know, reader-ah. you're not exactly subtle. but it's okay, because i like you too."

the confession makes you gasp, and you can't hold back your smile. who would've thought some ganghak kids would lead to this?

"not to ruin the mood, but i could really go for some fried chicken right now." baku mutters and as if on cue, his stomach grumbles. "see?"

"would that count as our first date?"

"wait i can't have our first date go like this! i was supposed to wine and dine you," baku slightly panics and you shut him up with another peck on his cheek.

"it's fine baku, we can always do that another time. let's go get some food, i'm hungry too."

fin

a/n sorry about the lackluster ending, i seriously don't know how to end fics 💔 i hope this lived up to your expectations 🙇 req are open!

#weak hero #weak hero x reader #weak hero class 2 x reader #weak hero x male reader #weak hero class 2 x male reader #park humin x reader #park humin #baku x reader #baku

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ammoniteblue · 10 months ago

Text

Not a Hero, Just an Author (p.2)

kenji sato x reader

Her latest novel a flop, Y/N is starting to worry she wasn’t meant to be an author. She’s 24, lives alone and most of her college friends are either married or in more traditional jobs. she feels like she’s being left behind. That is until a charming baseball player finds his way into her life and shows Y/N that it takes more than talent to be a star.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

At first the baseball card was left on your bedside table. But as you realised that night, after getting back from Mr. Ozami’s Ramen Shop, you couldn’t sleep with it so close to you. If you opened an eye you’d see it, sitting there atop the table. Then all thoughts of sleep evaded you. It was almost impossible not replay the events of the night over and over in you mind.

Kenji. His easy grin. The way his jacket hung just right off his shoulders.

so like any coward, you hid it. Pushed into a drawer crammed full of notebooks and stray pieces of paper. You left it there in your office, hidden within your desk and finally managed to sleep.

For two days the card sat in that drawer, hidden, out of sight out of mind.

Why an ordinary schmuck like you wasn’t jumping at the chance to call a legendary athlete like Kenji Sato you would never know. A million girls would kill to have his number and yet you….you couldn’t even bare to look at it.

But why ?

For those two days you did nothing but watch old reruns of his games. Ones of him in America, playing for the LA Dodgers, all dressed up in white and blue. He wore that same easy going smirk when he played too. Like he knew no matter what that he’d win.

Something in your keened for that kind of confidence. Most people would be jealous of Kenji for his wealth, his fame….his good looks. Not you. what you wanted was his confidence. how, when millions of people were watching him, did he look so carefree ?

Kenji was right. Maybe he’d just make a baseball fan out of you yet. When watching his reruns got boring you changed to interviews. They were always solo, usually him and some pretty female reporter.

A nasty green feeling curled up in your stomach as you watched the way he chuckled and smiled, tilting his head in an easy but flirty manner.

Arrogant asshole. Stupidly hot arrogant asshole.

On the second night your older sister called. she never rang your phone, always the landline. nobody ever used it and most of the time you forgot it was there until Ami rang for your weekly catch up.

She didn’t live far, only thirty minutes on the metro, but with her full time job as a reporter and status as a single mum she was usually busy. Of course you went over to help whenever you could, but lately you’d been avoiding her and therefore Chiho too.

You couldn’t admit to your powerhouse big sister, who had it all, that your book had been a flop. that you and Sana were desperately trying to secure a movie or tv show deal in hopes of recuperating your losses.

Yes a show or movie would put you on the map, give you the status of a serious author, but it would also mean some hollywood exec tearing your baby apart and turning it into some dark, sexy CW series.

Your heartwarming story of a boy’s struggles through adulthood, as he comes to terms with his new powers and what they mean, made into the next Riverdale. You’d rather die.

Oh the shame.

“Y/N you need to call back mum, she’s worried about you.” Immediately Ami is hounding you over the phone.

with a sigh you respond, “yes Ami, it’s nice to hear from you too.”

“we’re just worried about you. lately you’ve been so distant. we miss you. Chiho misses you, she keeps asking where her auntie is.” Her words cut straight to your heart.

A pang of guilt hits your stomach as you imagine Chiho’s sad wide eyes asking where you are. That was a dirty move on Ami’s side.

“Things are just…” you scramble for an excuse, “busy. yeah i’ve got some book stuff and…..and there’s this guy.”

wait what ? why the fuck did you say that ?

“a guy ?” your sister asked.

oh shit well no going back now.

“um yeah a guy. he’s nice ?” you almost sounded questioning.

there was a pause before Ami made a sound of excitement.

“That’s amazing Y/N ! i’m so happy for you. you’ve got to bring him over, mum would love to meet him. we all would.”

you knew that was code for “as your big sis i need to vet this guy and make sure he’s good enough for you”.

two minutes later and you found yourself promising to bring this mystery guy over soon along with returning your mums anxious calls.

“we love you Y/N, please don’t forget that.”

After she hung up you sat there for a minute. It was dark out and if not for the light from the TV the living room would’ve been submerged in complete darkness. Another interview was playing, an old one. Kenji couldn’t have been older than 20. A college graduate recruited to play baseball full time. He looked so happy, the kind of energy only young people have. when they’re still full of hope, before the world has smashed it into pieces.

once upon a time you looked like that. maybe in those weeks just after your first book deal. fresh out of university and the promise of bright career in writing.

As you watched him, you replayed the conversation with your sister over in your head. she’d sounded so worried. they both did, her and mum. something had to change. you needed to do something, anything to fix this funk you’d fallen into.

maybe that’s why you walked out of the living room and into your study.

The desk drawer slid open easily and inside the baseball card gleamed up at you. You reached in, picked it up and then grabbed your phone from your back pocket.

Ten digits later, your phone rang and after several seconds of intense silence there was a voice.

“Hey Kenji speaking.” It was him, really him. “umm hello ? if this is that guy from the gossip magazine then please f-“

“It’s the girl from the ramen shop, Mr. Ozami’s.” You quickly interrupt.

Kenji goes silent, the threat dying on his tongue.

“Oh.” Is all he says.

“Yeah.” you mumble in response.

Theres another awkward silence.

“So…” He starts

“So…” You repeat.

For an international heartthrob, Kenji Sato is surprinsgly not that smooth. Just like you he’s unsure of what to say, and for the first time the baseball icon seems a little human to you. it’s what gives you the confidence to speak first.

“I watched some of your games.” You try, unable to fight the heat rushing to your cheeks.

was that weird ? was admitting you’d watched him play weird ?

There’s a laugh over the phone that puts all your worries to rest.

“Really ? i thought you said you didn’t like baseball ?” He asks, amused.

“Oh i still don’t, but i wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” You respond boldly, almost flirty.

“And ?” He prompts.

from over the phone you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“And i thought you were pretty good.” You can’t help the smile that pulls at your mouth as he makes an unbecoming noise.

“pretty good ? i think you mean the best babe.”

oh. OH.

Suddenly the pyjamas you’re wearing felt too tight, too hot. you slipped off the couch and padded over to a window, opening it to let in a fresh night breeze.

“I-I mean,” you try to school your voice, “sure you’re good but the best ? that might be a stretch.”

Oh good lord why did you say that ? Why was your go to defence insults ?

“Well if you need some proof why don’t you come to a game ?” His proposition catches you completely off guard.

“a game ?” you’d never been to a baseball game.

how much were the tickets ? You weren’t exactly very liquid right now. yes the advance on your latest book had been quite a lot but with it not hitting its sale targets you’d had to make a few setbacks. no excessive shopping, no eating out - Mr. Ozami’s was an exception - no travelling. A baseball game sounded expensive. could you afford the tickets ?

“Yeah, i’ll send you a ticket,” and then cockily adds, “don’t worry i’ll make sure you have a good view.”

You breath out a small laugh. It was a tempting offer. A free ticket, the chance to experience something new and watch cute men run around a field in tight pants. What was not to like. Maybe this was what you needed to get you out of that funk.

“Okay,” you found yourself responding, “that would be nice. thank you.”

there’s a chuckle over the phone and like that you figure the call is coming to an end until Kenji adds:

“But on one condition.”

So close.

“What’s that ?” You try to sound normal.

“You let me take you out.”

three days later

The new Tokyo Stadium was a magnificent piece of architecture. it had only opened a few months ago but you’d yet to see it. with a book tour and signings and fan events you hadn’t had the time to walk around the city like you used to.

Dressed up in your nicest pair of jeans and a Giants jersey you’d bought just for this game, you joined the back of one of the ticket booth queues.

Kenji had sent you an E-ticket right after your call. since then whenever you went onto your phone you’d checked to see if it was still there. the sight of it was a confirmation that this was real. the Kenji Sato had not only given you his number, invited you to a game but had asked you out on a date. you turning up to this was basically confirmation that yes you wanted to go.

A date with Kenji Sato.

What was happening to your life.

Since that night you’d itched to call your sister, to tell her what was going on. But you couldn’t. Ami was so practical, she followed her head over her heart. if she found out she would tell you to drop it. that Kenji Sato was a known flirt who was scared of commitment and would leave you high and dry. He wasn’t the dating type. Not at least according to the hundreds of magazines and articles you’d spent the last few days reading.

it was all there. his long, slightly hazardous, dating history. models and musicians. beautiful women with no body fat and immaculate skin. the kinds of girls that you see online or in magazines. you couldn’t be further from them.

What on earth did Kenji Sato see in you ? A small time author with a minor online following and, according to one very cruel article in the Tokyo Post, a dying career.

Ami would tell you to quit while you’re ahead, before you’ve gone on a date with this guy and inevitably let him charm you into submission.

But Ami wasn’t here and you were in too deep now.

The lady at the ticket booth scanned your ticket and then you were in. it was unlike anything you’d ever seen. The stadium rippled with noise. hundreds of thousands of fans filled it, filing into seats, calling out for hot dogs and beers from the uriko girls.

like you many people wore Giants jerseys. Children and women and men. some had orange face paint strewn across their cheeks.

suddenly you felt less self conscious about the jersey you were wearing. nobody would glance at you and think you’d never been to a game before let alone not know a thing about the sport or rules.

it took you a while to find your seat. you walked further and further into the stadium, eyes scanning the rows for the letter A. it wasn’t till you were right at the front that you found it. to your surprise, your seat was just above the dugout, giving you a clear view of the home plate.

not only had Kenji Sato bought you a ticket, he’d bought you maybe one of the best seats in the whole place.

There was a buzz in your back pocket. you reached for your phone.

enjoy the show

Kenji.

As you stated at the message, biting back a grin, a sudden chorus of cheers shook the stadium. around you people had jumped to their feet, hoisting posters and foam fingers high into the air. the people next to you, a little girl and her mum, were jumping up and down in excitement. the little girl held a poster in her hands and with one quick glance you realised it was of Kenji.

You turned to look at the field and suddenly it made sense. There waltzing up to the home plate was the man himself.

Kenji Sato.

His white jersey gleamed in the midday sun. the number seven printed on the back in big block lettering. a baseball bat hung almost carelessly in his left hand. you were sure that under that helmet he was wearing the most obnoxious grin possible.

The Kenji Sato show was live.

As he strolled up to the home plate, he turned to wave at the crowds. what a showboater. it worked though. another round of cheers rippled through the crowds, so loud it almost made you wince. the little girl was nearly crying with excitement next to you.

You cheered along too, a little unsure of yourself. it wasn’t like you’d ever done this before. Then to your absolute horror, Kenji Sato glanced across the crowd until he locked eyes with you.

Had he been looking for you ?

He must have, because as soon as he saw you his grin grew even bigger. a look of absolute smugness. He gave you a once over, something unmistakable flashing across his face as he saw the jersey you were wearing. it had been a coincidence, you picking out the number seven jersey. Until now you hadn’t realised it was his jersey. did he think you’d done it on purpose ?

Oh my god he did.

There was a self assured smirk on his face as he gave you one last look before turning to batter up. An almost unnatural silence fell over the stadium. everyone waited with baited breath, about to witness for the first time Kenji Sato batting in the Japanese League.

The pitcher swung his arm back and the ball sailed through the air.

To your surprise and everybody else’s Kenji missed. The ball went square into the catcher’s mitt. You’d watched enough of his games to know Kenji rarely missed a ball. maybe it was nerves ? His first game on a new team, in a new country. anyone would be nervous. But then he missed the second time and from your seat you could catch the way his hand flew to his shoulder, as if in pain.

Then the catcher said something, what exactly you couldn’t hear. But judging by Kenji’s reaction it wasn’t anything good. You watched with wide eyes as the batter levelled up to the catcher, his bat almost held like a weapon. The pair were almost chest to chest until the umpire stepped in. there was a final heated exchange before Kenji returned to bat. Then to everyone’s surprise he swapped sides, changing to his right hand to bat.

A series of quiet murmurs, sceptical and surpised words, rippled through the crowds. Did this not happen often ? You weren’t entirely sure what was going on. But judging by the confused looks around you Kenji was about to do something unprecedented in baseball.

All you could do was watch as the pitcher made his final throw. the ball flew through the air. the silence had never been thicker, and then with a speed so intense you nearly missed it, Kenji swung the bat back. there was contact. an almost cracking sound and the ball was sent soaring into the opposite direction.

the crowd roared with approval. the noise shook the stadium and to your surprise you found yourself up on your feet cheering along with them.

“Go Kenji !” You cried, almost jumping up and down as he ran each base.

A victorious grin had broken out on his face, and as he returned to home base he glanced up at you. Suddenly you felt self conscious stood there, hands in the air your cheeks flushed. But then he winked at you and something electric and light and fluttering soared through your chest.

He was incredible.

And then the Kaiju appeared.

is she the queen of cliffhangers or what ?? stay tuned for part three !! also if people are confused about why the reader seems to contradict herself a lot it’s meant to show how she’s an unreliable narrator, and like can’t see that she’s doing better than she thinks.

#ken sato x reader #ken sato #kenji sato x reader #kenji x reader #kenji sato #ultraman rising #ultraman

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monstrifex-art · 2 years ago

Text

Howls in the Heights

Art and story by me, for the TF anthology Shifts from the Shelves.

Story:

Smoke hung in the air like an unanswered question. Between the blotchy wallpaper and the liquor-stained floorboards, the poker room couldn’t accurately be described as “nice.” But Donovan owed me a favor, so for the time being this space in the back of his bar was mine. The faint music of a jazz combo leaked under the door, distant and a little sad. I stretched, twine running through my fingers as I looped it around the tack pinning a balding man’s mug-shot to the wall.

“That one’s kind of handsome,” Rita mused from behind me.

I scoffed and shot a glance over my shoulder. Rita stood close enough that I could smell her perfume. She was watching me map my thoughts on the wall with casual amusement, her dark eyes skimming lightly over the collection of newspaper clippings and photographs.

“Maybe he was. But he’s not looking so good anymore.” I uncapped a pen and drew a large red X over his face. “Handyman Wharton was a real piece of work. But no one deserves to die like that. These murders… in all my years of investigating, I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“Mmm, sounds to me like he had it coming,” she breathed as she leaned her chin on my shoulder. Rita was beautiful in a way that made it hard to think straight. She had wavy hair that fell like a black curtain on one side of her face, eyelids and lips done up in a matching smoky coal. Tonight she wore a cocktail dress that poured smoothly down her curves. The thin fabric left very little to the imagination.

Rita and I had crossed paths in a couple chance encounters over the last couple weeks. She had a habit of turning up just as things were getting interesting, and making just about everything a little more complicated. For some reason she seemed to take a shine to me. We’d started spending nights together, and she proved as enthusiastic between the sheets as she was on the dance floor. Maybe more so.

“I’m getting close,” I murmured softly. “All these bodies—there’s a pattern here. Crime barons, crooked cops… someone is making a power play for this city’s underworld. Whoever they are, they can’t hide from the truth.”

Rita slid off my back and glided over to the card table where she’d left her lighter. She sat, one leg crossed over the other, and took a long drag from the mouthpiece of her cigarette holder.

“I like watching you think, Detective. It’s like watching an old car struggle up a steep road.”

“This car still has some miles left in it,” I chuckled. “See here—Wharton was a regular at the Glass Eye. You remember, where we met at the craps table. And here, if my sources are right, Wharton was smuggling ammo for the Pinstripe gang. They’re based out of Turnstile, where you took me to see that boxing match. Hell, if I didn’t know any better Rita I’d say…”

Something cold ran down my spine. Old instincts flared to life, telling me I’d just stumbled into something big. My eyes flitted from headline to headshot, arcs of twine adding up in an intricate equation. My thoughts clicked like a typewriter, checking hunch against evidence, step-by-step. It was impossible but… the data points aligned. How could…

“Ahhh… starting to put the pieces together, are we, darling?” Rita’s voice found me from far away, as if I was at the bottom of a well. I turned to face her, limbs numb.

“You…”

She smiled, white teeth flashing in the smoky gloom. “Of course it was me, dear. It was all me. All along.”

“But… the bodies. They were torn apart. How did you…”

She laughed in that pitying little way she did when she knew something I didn’t. The melodic sound of it almost made me want to laugh with her.

“Mhmhmm aww, you still look so confused! Don’t worry sweet thing, this one is above your pay grade.” She stood with a little flourish, like a magician’s assistant. “Here. Perhaps a demonstration will make you understand.”

A part of my mind, not sure which, suddenly sounded alarm bells. An instinct to run pumped through me, made my heart beat fast and my perception sharpen. Rita was just standing there, but some awareness deep in my hindbrain was screaming danger. Predator. Flee.

I gritted my teeth. Not yet. Not when I was so close to the answer.

A shiver ran across Rita’s pale skin, starting at her back and working out to her limbs. I could see her hair stand on end. She stretched, luxuriating in the movement. Her lips parted, and a long sigh streamed from her throat like a release of pressurized air. “Hahhhh… You’re about to see who I really am, dearest.”

A quiet snapping noise, then another. Dozens of meaty clicks inside her like the sound of dislocating joints. Rita pitched forward, bending double in a violent motion that knocked the card table behind her slamming to the floor. She gasped, lurching upright with an ecstatic grin on her face. Her eyes! They had changed, darker around the edges and brighter in the middle. Her pupils reflected light like burning headlights. I couldn’t look away.

“All the rest, it’s an… affectation. Like a favorite dress that I wear around town.”

Her elbow-length gloves were starting to tear. I could see dark fur through the rips, black claws cutting neatly through the satin fingertips. She groaned, and I could hear the timbre of her voice roughening. Something cracked in her legs. Her feet shifted, pushing her taller inch by inch as they extended into long sinewy paws.

Her dress clung tightly to her curves as her frame broadened. The cloth strained, her collar line deepening as the flesh of her shoulders and chest rippled with new bulk. I could see her nipples pressing through the black cloth, erect with sensation.

She gestured to the dress, to her glittering necklace and sheer stockings. “This, all these pretty things. It used to be me… Gruuhh.” Her voice faltered as an involuntary growl rattled through her. She smiled sweetly, regaining her composure. “But not anymore.”

The fabric gave with a loud tearing noise as a large tail, black and shaggy, thrust out behind her. She took a few balancing steps forward, then reached up to brush the hair out of her face with one clawed hand. Her breathing was coming deep and heavy now, hot fog mingling with smoke in curls around her smile.

“Don’t get me wrong, darling. I do love our little song-and-dances. Being the stunning vision on your arm is a treat! But the real me can’t dazzle a cocktail party in quite the same way.”

She grimaced, and I could see her teeth lengthening into interlocking fangs. Fur crept down her face, pressing in at the edges of her cheeks and trailing down her nose.

She blinked and stared deep into me with those burning eyes. “I clean up pretty nice, wouldn’t you say? I certainly had you fooled!” She cackled with a wild abandon that approached madness.

Her shaking laughter choked off into gasps as she convulsed with another surge of growth. The wet sounds of her bones rearranging were almost drowned out by the noise of her widening hips and shoulders finally tearing her dress to ribbons. I could just see her face masked in shadow, distorting and stretching as her mouth extended into a snout full of pointed lupine teeth. Rivulets of saliva dripped from her black lips.

I stumbled away instinctively, felt the pins of my map wall dig into my back. Stray clues drifted to the floor like leaves. I could feel my cheeks burning hot as I tried to look away, but I couldn’t pull my eyes from her nakedness as it was torn free before me.

Between gasping breaths, she laughed violently. “YOUR FACE!” she snarled, muzzle curling into a feral grin. “You weren’t this SHY when we MADE LOVE LAST NIGHT!”

She was right, of course. I had seen every inch of her in our evenings together. But there was something about seeing her this way—it was rawer, deeper, more intimate and carnal. I was enraptured with a fascination that had never possessed me during our previous dalliances. I couldn’t understand it. I was hopelessly lost in the rhythm of her shifting flesh. Why? The scene before me was horrific, so why was I feeling this way?

“You’re… I just… I…” I stammered, struggling to put words in order.

“You still WANT me, DON’T YOU?” She was shouting now. “I can smell your desire… What is it you always say? YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM THE TRUTH, DETECTIVE!”

That was it. I was more attracted to her now than I ever had been before. What was wrong with me? Why did my heart feel like it was about to pound its way out of my chest? I shut my eyes, turning away with a strangled cry.

“I don’t understand! Please… I can’t, I don’t…”

“LOOK AT ME, DARLING.”

I blinked toward her, seeing only blurred glimpses. I saw the fur bristling from muscle-laden thighs, the tattered sweat-soaked remnants of her dress stretched over her rippling abdominals. God, parts of her were still so human. She wasn’t an animal or a person - she was something monstrous in-between. She was a terrifying beast, but she was still recognizably… her.

“LOOK AT ME!” she roared, and the room shook. I cried out, and opened my eyes to behold her entirely.

She was beautiful.

She was so beautiful it hurt.

I stepped toward her, and fell into her arms as she embraced me. We fell together to a gasping heap on the floor. We began anew, pressing ourselves into one another with bestial fervor.

The case would have to go on a little while longer.

#art #monster #Rita #werewolf #transformation #story

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warsublime · 17 days ago

Text

Open Source Note Taking

I know all of you have followed me for the horny posts about sexual violence but I have decided to post some recommendations for open source tools each Friday to promote my other insidious agenda of increased privacy, security, and independence from for-profit companies.

A lot of you here probably like to journal and take notes so I decided to start with some dedicated note taking apps. Of course you can also take notes in LibreOffice and Cryptpad, but those are more general office solutions similar to Microsoft Office or Google Docs.

Freeplane

For most of my my personal note-taking right now I like to use Freeplane. It's free and open source (hence the name), runs on pretty much every desktop, and provides a solid note taking environment. Notes are represented as graphs (typically trees) which can contain cells which have arbitrary data. These cells can be manipulated with a built-in scripting language which allows you to use it like a spreadsheet in addition to using to store notes. Nodes can be folded as well, and you can make decision trees, flowcharts, etc. very easily.

The interface may look somewhat intimidating since it's not just a regular note taking app, and many users take a mind-mapping approach, but you can just imagine it as a nested tree with the nodes closer to the root being broader concepts than the leaves.

Joplin

Joplin is a markdown based tool for note taking, though it provides a WYSIWYG style editor, intra-notebook links, the ability to store templates, to-do lists, and a few more advanced features. It has an android and iOS app as well. If you want to sync your notes between devices you can self-host a server, use some sort of file sharing tool (like KDE Connect), or pay for their service.

I no longer use it (having since moved to Freeplane, KDE PIM, and SQL), but it's a good program and it might be good for your problems since everyone has different needs.

KDE PIM (KOrganiser or Merkuro)

If you use KDE already, KDE has a PIM suite which allows you to create tasks, events, and schedule things. You can use these to take journal entries which can show up in any calendar you share CalDAV info with (which means that you can link most calendar services to it). It can also be used to share when you are free if you like to schedule meetings. I personally use it for my own daily journaling and task management.

Just Plain Markdown

You can also store things in just plain old markdown files (org mode in emacs or just regular .md

files). Many people swear by this and there are some compelling benefits (near universal compatibility with any text editor as well as a very simple interface for extending it). For this you don't really need any specialized tools, just a text editor of your choosing, ideally with some highlighting for markdown. Nearly every text editor has it, so there's not much to say there.

SQL Databases

This is a niche solution, but I am going to mention it anyways since it took me years to actually try it out despite knowing SQL since no one else mentioned it. If you know SQL just using straight up SQL with a SQL database management tool is actually really good. I have done it (and do it) since for some tasks like storing recipes the added structure is actually quite useful. (and you can do complex queries on the data as well) Essentially you just break your notes into different types (possibly even thinking about how to normalize your knowledge representation, though there's a lot of bikeshedding that way) and then turn those types into tables.

Postgresql is my preferred option simply because I use it at work (and let's face it, if you use SQL you probably do to). However, if you aren't already experienced with SQL it isn't something I would recommend. Though I would recommend learning SQL to everyone, since databases have a similar set of capabilities as spreadsheets but are even more powerful and useful.

#free software #open source #note taking #journaling

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chadillacboseman · 2 years ago

Text

Pairing: Phillip Graves x GN!Reader (no actual pairing between them tho) Word Count: Idk man. Like 1.5k. Warnings: Graves being pathetic, masturbation, pillow humping, reader is in a relationship with Alejandro. Summary: The MW2 timeline is fluid, and brother, I'm hooked up to an IV. Graves is in Las Almas with 141 and Los Vaqueros, sharing space with them as the hunt for Hassan continues. There's only one thing he wants while he's there. You.

Phillip Graves isn't used to not getting what he wants.

Contractor money can buy almost anything, can sway almost anyone. Being denied isn't really in the handbook.

The first time Graves laid eyes on you, he knew he had to have you. You were bent low over a map, contemplating alongside Rudy and Alejandro.

You took his fucking breath away.

Graves and his Shadows have been with the 141 and Los Vaqueros for weeks now, searching for Hassan and the missiles with no progress. No end in sight.

He's done his yelling at Shepherd, spent countless hours on the phone begging for a way out of the contract or a base of his own in Las Almas.

"What is the problem, Graves?" Shepherd is frustrated, taking his call in between meetings and debriefs, "Can I not count on you to get this done?"

"Sir-" Graves is flustered, pacing the hallway outside the base's shop, "Their base isn't equipped-"

"Get the job done, Graves, and don't call me until you do!"

The line goes dead.

"Shepherd giving you a hard time?" you're leaning against the wall, your head cocked to the side as you observe him.

"You could say that," Graves shoves the phone back in his pocket and avoids your gaze.

Alejandro stuck Graves with you when he first arrived, tasking you with giving him a tour of the base and getting him familiar with the operations. You were radiant, effortlessly funny and undaunted by his power or his position.

The obsession is insidious, starting slowly, with Graves missing the sound of your voice or the way you smelled when you weren't around. He finds himself making excuses to be close to you, to take details that have the two of you alone.

He tries to hide it, tries so desperately to make sure no one notices the way he trails after you and stares at you with wide, pleading eyes whenever you speak.

Graves wants to have you so badly it hurts.

But he can't.

You're Alejandro's, and he makes that abundantly clear at every turn. He always keeps a protective hand on you, steals small kisses from you when he thinks no one is looking.

Oh, how Graves despises the Vaquero. He wants to see him bleed. To see him crumpled in a heap on the floor of some jail cell he'll never escape.

For now, he settles for watching from the shadows, pining like some lovesick schoolboy as he watches Alejandro enjoy what should be his.

He imagines what you must feel like, what you must taste like; he thinks of how soft your hair would be, splayed out over his pillow, his name tumbling from your lips like a prayer.

The need burns hot in Graves' chest, pooling and dark, so strong that it scares him. He's never wanted anything so badly in his life, never felt the hopeless, burning and inescapable jealousy he feels now.

He finds himself avoiding you. Avoiding your sun-bright eyes and infectious laugh. When you approach him, he turns heel and flees like a coward.

You notice. Of course you do. You're so fucking smart. Too smart for Alejandro, that brainless lout.

Graves takes to hiding in a server room at the base, some hole in the wall full of wires and blinking lights. It's loud, hot, and stifling, but it's mercifully free of you.

Until it isn't.

"Phillip, what the hell is going on with you?"

Your voice jolts him from his work, and he nearly sends his laptop clattering to the floor.

Phillip. No one ever calls him that- just you. It sends a burning, sizzling, hot lead of high voltage straight through his chest that makes his ears flush red.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Graves nearly has to spit it through his clenched teeth. He's a shitty liar, he knows it and you know it too. It's the reason he never joins in on poker nights with the 141.

"You're avoiding me," there's resentment and accusation in your voice, but there's something else too, something that makes his heart drop. Sadness.

Graves has been avoiding you. Even being in your presence makes him feel like he's losing control. Seeing Alejandro steal little touches, hearing the way you laugh when he whispers something in Spanish. It drives him mad.

"I have work to do, princess," he tries to soften the edge in his voice, but it doesn't work- the cutesy nickname instead feels like an insult lobbed at you.

You open and close your mouth a few times, processing what he's just said to you. You look hurt and he's spiraling. He wants to jump to his feet and cup your chin, to tell you to run away with him. Run back to the States and leave this shithole behind.

"Fuck you, Graves," you turn on your heel and disappear from the doorway. The use of his last name stings- it takes everything in his power to not race after you, to apologize and beg for your forgiveness.

It's your turn to avoid him now. Graves expects relief, but he doesn't get it. You're so deeply embedded in his brain that he can't seem to shake himself out of his obsession.

He wants to apologize- no, he needs to apologize to you. You're hard to find, though. Making yourself scarce in areas you know he'd be in. Maybe you won't forgive him. Maybe you'll tell him to fuck off and that will be enough to snap him out of it.

Graves finally finds you in the shop. It's late, later than you have any business being there. Alejandro went off-base hours ago.

"Hey-" his voice sounds small and threatens to crack, dropping like a dead weight in the tense air.

You don't look up from what you're working on, merely offering him an almost imperceptible nod to acknowledge his presence.

"What do you want, Graves?"

To apologize. To tell you the truth. To pin you to the wall and-

"If you haven't got anything to say to me, then please leave me alone," you sound annoyed, but there's something else to it. You don't want him to leave, but he doesn't know that.

"Look, I'm..." he trails off, the words aren't coming out. It's like they're stuck just behind his tongue. Suddenly, he's fifteen again, stuttering in front of the third new classmates he's had that year.

"I'm sorry," the apology finally falls out of his mouth, almost as one word in his hurry to say it, "For the other day."

You finally look up at him, and he feels his heart leap into his throat. In the dim light of the shop, your features are even more striking. Your eyes glimmer under the yellow incandescent bulbs, and there's a smudge of grease on your cheek.

God, how he wants to reach out and swipe his thumb across your skin.

"Phillip," there it is again. It makes his heart hammer against his rib cage, "What's going on with you?"

He could tell you the truth. Maybe a slap across the face would change his opinion of you-

"Phil?" you reach out and tap gently on his vest, rapping your fingertips against the flag badge that adorns it, "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Just say it. Say it! SAY IT!

Your phone rings and Graves jumps, his confession coming to a stop just behind his teeth. He glimpses the contact name on the screen and feels his nerves be replaced with a wave of jealousy.

Alejandro.

Your conversation with him is a blur, Graves catches words here and there, "soon" "in the shop" "I'd love that".

"Phil, we'll continue this conversation tomorrow, okay?" you cock your head and try to read his expression to no avail.

"Sure," he swallows, hard, and watches as you walk away.

While the others are crammed together at the base, Graves is in private lodging, paid for on Shadow Company's dime. He tosses his bags to the floor and sheds his tactical vest, letting it drop haphazardly in a heap by the door.

The shower is calling his name, but he doesn't have the energy to do it, instead dropping onto the bed and cradling his head in his hands. There's no telling how long this assignment is going to last, how long he'll have to contend with his feelings and try not to make a fool of himself.

Graves thinks of your face, of the way you had looked up at him in the shop. You'd look so good with your lips wrapped around his cock, staring up at him with those beautiful fucking eyes of yours.

He groans, feeling the familiar tightness at his zipper, almost painful until he frees himself with a hiss.

"Fuck-" Graves grazes his fingertips over his length, pausing at the tip to swipe the pad of his thumb over the beads of precum collecting there.

He moans your name, hips bucking into the friction of his own hand, his mind conjuring up all the ways he would fuck you; all the ways he would make you his.

His hand isn't enough.

Graves rolls onto his stomach, the waistline of his jeans just low enough to expose him entirely. He grasps desperately, hands fumbling until he finds a pillow and jams it roughly between himself and the bed.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," it's not you, it's not the same, but the sensation is enough for now.

Graves grinds himself so lewdly he should be embarrassed, humping his pillow like a horny teenager, thinking of you. He moans loudly, the sound echoing in the empty room, as he ruts into the fabric like an animal.

He thinks of you. Of your scent, your smile, the way you say his name. He'd give anything to hear you cry it out while pinned beneath him, to have you come undone entirely because of him.

Graves braces his hand on the mattress, panting as he fucks into the fabric, his hips rolling in rhythmic thrusts as he chases his peak.

"So good," he's babbling now, his mind racing to envision you taking his cock, tight and fucking perfect, "m'gonna- gonna cum-"

Graves tumbles over the edge, crying out your name as he spills hot spurts of cum onto the pillow; his hips stutter out one final thrust until he's spent, panting into the mattress in the pressing quiet of his hotel room.

Graves rolls over, laying an arm over his chest as he tries to catch his breath. He stares at the ceiling, trying to imagine what it must be like to have you in an intimate moment like this, to have you soaked in sweat and curled into his embrace.

He tries to make peace with never knowing.

#phillip graves x reader #ns/fw #phillip graves #cod mw2 #holy shit did i write something???

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lady-raziel · 7 months ago

Note

Dear god I hope I'm remembering right and you play Fallout 4

Any mod recommendations?

My friend I not only play Fallout 4, play Fallout 4 a lot, but in fact play Fallout 4 to the point that thinking about this game keeps me up at night and has increasingly over time become something that has significant bearing on my real-world activities in a way that baffles and confounds. (It in fact is very beneficial to me that you, my treasured and beloved tumblr mutual, remembers me as notably being a person who cares about Fallout 4 completely unprompted.)

Anyways, here are a few mods that I tend to use most often:

Everyone's Best Friend (Dogmeat and Companion At Same Time - No Console - No Hack) at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

This is the one mod I use basically above all else, which is silly given how simple it is. Basically it just lets you have Dogmeat and another companion travel with you simultaneously, so you never have to choose between having your doggy and like, getting important relationship-building story bits and commentary on events. Also useful since it can make combat a little easier since Dogmeat also helps in fights.

Important NPC Essential Edition at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

I hate how I can meet a funny little NPC that I like a lot, assign them to a settlement, and then they get killed in some random mutant raid or whatever. This mod keeps that from happening! A win for funny little NPCs.

True Storms - Wasteland Edition (Thunder-Rain-Weather Redone) at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

This one adds cooler, more intense weather events that feel a little more immersive than vanilla edition. Definitely good for truly terrifying rad-storm experiences.

GRASSLANDS - A Fallout 4 Grass Overhaul at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

Grass! I kinda don't like how dead all the plants are since 200+ years post-apocalypse is more than enough time for greenery to return. This mod helps everything feel a bit more alive and so that it's not like the bombs just dropped like 20 years ago or something.

The Eyes Of Beauty Fallout Edition at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

This one is great for generally cooler eye options for normal colors, plus every insane color variation you can imagine. Fun for unique character design purposes!

How Convenient at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

This one gives you a set powerful weapons straight out of the Vault that normally you wouldn't be able to find until much later. I've found it most useful for repeat playthroughs where I don't want to take extra time away from whatever I'm trying to do and grind early-game stuff, and want to just be able to power through a little faster.

Dismiss Porter Gage To Any Settlement at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

If you have the Nuka-World DLC, the companion from there can only typically be dismissed to settlements in the DLC map, which is annoying if you're frequently swapping companions like I tend to. This way you can dismiss him to the same central settlement as other companions if you want to do this too.

Danse GTFO Power Armor at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

Normally you can't ask Danse to take his power armor on and off like you can do with other companions, and this quality-of-life mod allows that if you need to go somewhere and you don't want him clomping in a giant metal suit behind you.

And a few silly and fun ones that I enjoy:

Danse Danse Revolution at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

Changes the name of the laser rifle Danse gives you to Danse Danse Revolution. That's all.

Buzz Lightyear Paladin Danse at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

Turns Danse's power armor into Buzz Lightyear, and Preston Garvey's outfit into Woody the cowboy. Goofy but kinda fitting.

Star Wars - The Lightsaber at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

Adds lightsabers as craftable weapons. Not really lore compliant, but fighting in power armor with a lightsaber is sick as hell so who cares.

There are a few more I know of that are more intense story and quest-addition mods, but if you're just playing the game for the first time, they're probably best added later.

Thank YOU for asking and please feel free to send many more asks about Fallout 4. I have many thoughts, and unfortunately for the ENTIRE WORLD, I'm pretty willing to share them.

#fallout #fallout 4

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sopaprimordialy · 5 months ago

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My favorite part of every Warriors' song

(it was really hard to chose some of those)

Survive the night Bronx. Everything that Bronx says.

Roll Call "As far as you can see from the top of the wonder wheel..." I just LOVE the way Cleon sings this bit.

Warriors Cypher "Ajax, and I'm sick of runnin' off at the mouth, I got two f's for ya'll, fuck around find out!"

Make Way For Cyrus The way Masai says Riffs.

If You Can Count "Imagine what I had to do to stay on top!" I love, LOVE the power with which she sings this. I non ironically almost cry sometimes

Derailed "IT WAS THE WARRIORS! THE WARRIORS! THE WARRIORS SHOT CYRUS" very simple: when I've read "KIM DRACULA as LUTHER" I almost fainted. This line stuck in my head forever. I love the rest of the song but I would be straight up lying.

Woodlawn Cemetery "Rembrandt, just before we go, make our mark and let them know that we were here tonight!" love how this is sang waaa

Leave The Bronx Alive Everything in Spanish, but specially "ASESINA'! ASESINA' VIREN PA CA!"

A Track Fire And A Phone Call "Hey, I found Coney Island on this map :D Figure out how many stops to union square 😼 Come on, that's high math for Rembrandt 😅"

Going Down EVERYTHING! Joking but not joking, "Light one match, don't be scared, you just might watch the world burn!" I like how gentle he sounds here, contrasting with the rest of the song. I imagine it as him trying to genuinely calm Cropsy's fears down in his own distorted crazy way

Orphan Town "CHICKEEEEEEENS! WHAT A COUP FULL OF CHICKEEEEENS!" and, ofc, the way she says buck buck buck buck buck buck BCACK!

Call Me Mercy "LOOK AT THESE WOMEN!" I STG I ALMOST CRY EVERY TIME also the way this song uses basically the same notes as "Burn" 👀 I could even play the main chords just by using the sheet for Burn and changing the order.

Still Breathin' "Gun? Where's the gun? If I am guilty then where's my gun?" and the rest of Cleon's rap. I want to sing like that when I grow up.

Quiet Girls Them being described as "the House of Hurricanes" rather than as a gang; "We live at the edge of the dark but we still make a mark 'cause we spark and we are who we AAAAAAAAAHAHAAAARE~" I'M OBSESSED WITH THIS LINES YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA I WRITE IT EVERYWHERE I CAN

Outside Of Gray's Papaya "You got a problem?🙄🤨 hey I got fifty cents 😀☝ I got a dollar 😊 We gotta find another train 😐❌"

Sick Of Running When Ajax and Mercy sing together "No I'm not scared of what's dangerous! I'll ride or die 'til the day comes, I won't be done in! I'M SICK OF RUNNIN'!"

Park At Night Ajax roasting Barnes the cop. Every single little swearing she throws at him "HA but you wanted to play right? OLD ASS PREDATOR, looking for prey right? BITCH! You allergic to daylight? Talkin' that shit but got nothin' to say right? STAY RIGHT THERE, SMILE MOTHERFUCKER!" ah, so satisfying

Luther Interlude "This is fun! Kingdom come and thy/my will be done" it's so funny how Cropsy's worshiping him here- seriously like, get a partner that looks at you and talks abt you in the way Cropsy does abt Luther bcs HOLY SHIT GIRL WTF'S YOUR PROBLEM?

Cardigans "Matching cardigans? That's cute. You don't wear something like that unless you really care. About looking a fool"

We Got You When it finally ends. I'm joking, I like the little "you sing?" but that's about it 😐

A Light Or Somethin' The whole concept, ofc, because I was NOT expecting a lesbian duet when I listened to it in the first time. The part that was the turn for me to realize what was happening was, of course, "I'm loyal to yoooou~ ... What's wrong? Kiss me :)". After that everything about this song is so perfect that I honestly don't know what to pick

We Got You (Reprise) "Every subway in the city has graffiti so speedy that you never see the pieces right" This is one of my favorite takes in the entire musical. It feels so close to home, you know? And I think this speaks for every artist living in a big city, trying to grasp at every little piece of art among the chaos of urban life. (It's almost ironical how this line is in my second less favorite song-)

Somewhere In The City "And someday in the city we won't have to run each time a broken person gets ahold of a gun! Breathe easy every night knowing we'll see the sun" I was in need of this hope. I really was.

Reunion Square Oh boy... where do I even begin? I could just put the entire song here, but I'll put the part that makes me cry hard every time, especially knowing what happens after this: "I'm sick of being afraid of you... And what you have the power to do! You're the baddest gang in the city, that's true. Ha! And your color's fuckin' powder blue." (I was literally on the verge of tears just from listening to it again to write this) I think the samples used in the police chase part also deserve mentioning. They really are very similar to those in La Haine, I'm SURE that's a reference. Anyway, despite of the sadness, this is one of the most beautiful songs I've ever listened to.

Same Train Home My first instinct is to say "THE KISS!!" but, although I LOVED it, the most emotional part for me was when the DJ starts to sing in first person, including herself instead of just narrating the scene. Correct me if I'm wrong, but this is the only part this happens: "We're taking the same train home "We're all in the same train home [...] "As we pass beyond King's Highway just before the break of day, we say MAKE WAY FOR US!"

Finale This is a HUGE song with a lot of things happening so I'll just put all of my fav lines here: "There it is, the top of the wonder wheel... the Warriors are here" "Spoke truth to power in our darkest hour!" (literally cried) "Cleon! Our leader... who dreamed of something sweeter!" (love how this is sung) "Warriors come out to play-ay!" (progressively more insane and holy shit someday I'll be as strong as Kim Dracula's throat) "POW! All out of quarters no more extra lives!" (such a nerd) "One on one! Drop the gun. (Or you're a chickeeeeeen?)" (he is) "Sand in your eye, hate in your heart, you only know how to break shit apart! Your crew is scared of you, see how it scatters- My crew would DIE FOR ME, loyalty matters!" "Yeah hi it's Masai 🕴🏿"

ALL THE WARRIORS SINGING TOGETHER!

#warriors musical #warriors album #warriors concept album #sopa talks #I had to put it somewhere #now read it (points metaphorical gun)

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mj-102009 · 9 months ago

Text

The Marionette (Alastor x oc Part One)

Masterlist

-----------

-Some time ago-

“This is disgusting,” Vox growled, destroying the radio in a twitch of his fingers. The screams instantly fell silent.

“I think it's clever,” One of the forgettable overlords chipped in.

Velvette snarled at them, effectively shutting them up. “It’s clever to shits like you who think anything bloody is amazing because it gets your dick hard.”

Before she could go any further, Carmilla stood at the end of the table and held a list. We all winced as fellow overlords were listed off. “–were all lost to this so-called Radio Demon.”

This meeting was one of the only recorded ones that had every living overlord accounted for– excluding the Radio Demon.

On Carmilla’s right, I studied a map that she had laid out. “He’s going after the biggest ones.”

Val snickered and opened his mouth to make a dick joke, but Zestial cut him off early. “Anyone in his path of destruction should be on guard.”

“So we fight,” Vox shrugged. “He can’t take all of us.”

I exchanged looks with Carmilla. “You can try and fight,” all eyes turned to me as I spoke in my soft tone. “But if we’ve noticed anything these past few days…this demon is anything but a fool. And he won’t fall for your traps.”

Alliances were formed that day, the Vee’s made plenty of deals with others for protection. While I refused to accept any bribe or offer.

“This fucker thinks he can kill us,” Vox boasted. “Someone needs to put this cocky piece of shit in his place.”

“I’d be careful,” I purred with a teasing grin. “Doesn’t seem like this demon is taking his time, and after all only one of you relies on a wifi router to function.”

Val barked a laugh and Vox glitched. “Watch it, Barbie, video killed the radio star.”

I raised a single perfect brow and stood from my place at the table. “Get some new material, T-Mobile. And it’s Marionette to you.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” He called down the hall as I walked off. “That’s 5G!”

I would never recommend walking the streets of hell anywhere except sloth. The demons in sloth tend to know better than to jump someone like me.

A dull buzzing in my pocket broke me out of my thoughts. “Yes?”

“The radio dick got Vox,” Valentino growled, getting straight to the point.

I inhaled sharply. “Dead? Or just wounded,” I bring my hand to the bridge of my nose and sigh through the growing stress headache.

“Just his ego,” Velvette snorted from across the line.

“I told the fool to be on guard,” I sigh, dropping my hand and opening my eyes. “Tell Carmilla and update me on how the Spark Plug is fairing.”

They hung up with a grunt of agreement. I looked over my shoulder and squinted at the shadows, every corner of the street seemed to be pulling towards me.

To scare me.

To intimidate me.

I ran a hand through my iron curled hair and chuckled. “I’m not sure whether to thank you for Vox’s condition or avenge his pride,” I told the wind slowly.

A whoosh of air then a hum of static filled the street, pricking at my skin and making my hair rise.

“Ah yes!” A voice cheered in front of me as the shadows condensed into a solid figure. “The moving picture fellow.”

I studied him with a hum. “Radio Demon,” I nodded in greeting.

“The Marionette,” His smile was far too plastered for my taste. “Your ethereal beauty was undersold to me.”

“Charmed,” I smile warmly. “How may I be of assistance.”

It wasn’t a genuine question.

I knew full well what he wanted.

“To take your position of power of course!” His smile turned sinister.

With a click of my tongue I tilted my head at him. “I appreciate your drive, I really do,” His eyes flickered. “But I must advise…”

With a flick of his fingers a hole opened in the ground and three massive tentacles erupted from within. I snapped my fingers and the world came to a pause, I lifted my skirts and stepped around the tentacles. I moved to stand behind him.

Again I lifted my hand and snapped my fingers. “Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

He whirled around and swung down with the staff. I grabbed his wrist causing him to drop it and snapped with my right hand.

Instantly as the world froze his tentacle monsters disappeared. “What did you do?” He asked without his filter, panicked as he realized he was stuck.

“I’ve brought you to the in-between,” I tell him . “A place frozen in time,” I walked forward and tilted my head. “The only drawback is that we have no power here.”

He hissed. “They didn’t tell me you could do this.”

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow and my lips curled in amusement. “Who’s they?”

“They said you could move people,” This tantrum reminded me of a child. “What is this?”

I picked up his discarded staff and flicked it from hand to hand. “Oh anyone can do this with enough power,” He watched me warily. “I just know an overzealous demon with fresh power, and guessed you wouldn’t know much.”

“I killed the rest,” He told me. “I’ll slaughter you and use you for dinner.”

“So dramatic,” I sighed, shaking my head. “I’ve been here for centuries, learning– do you really think you’re the first demon to come after my land?” I looked up at him and grinned. “And you weren’t miss informed,” I snapped my fingers again and instantly he thrust out his hand and his staff flew to his hands. His back stretched with his limbs and he prowled towards me. I flicked my fingers and an invisible string yanked him all the way back into a building. “Just under prepared.”

I walked up to his crumpled form and studied him. “You won’t last long here,” I sigh, shaking my head. “Shame as well, you have the Vee’s shaking.”

-30 years later-

“Are you coming to the meeting?” Velvette snapped into the phone.

“Can’t say I planned on it,” I hum into the phone. “Why?”

She huffed in frustration. “Carmilla invited the Radio dick.”

My lips curled into a grin. “And?”

She sputtered. “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN ‘AND’? HE NEARLY KILLED VOX!”

“So,” I shrug. “Not my circus, not my monkeys, I remember telling all of you to watch out,” I remind her plainly.

“You’re the Marionette,” She complained. “You’re one of the oldest overlords in hell. You have to go.”

“Good bye, Velvette,” I deadpanned, hanging up and dropping my phone on my desk.

A knock made me look up with a hum.

“Milady,” A meek voice greeted me. “Ms. Rosie is here to visit you.”

I lift my head and stand with a smile. “Rosie!” I beam walking to meet her in a hug. “Love, hello, what are you doing here?”

“Libby!” She greets me, returning my embrace and sitting on the loveseat across from me. “I can’t visit an old friend on my way to the meeting.”

I signal for the other demon to bring tea. “Of course you can,” I smile. “How’ve you been?”

She cupped her hands in her lap. “Well I’ve been getting to know the other overlords in the area as you suggested.”

“Oh how lovely,” I nod, taking the platter of tea and setting it down on the coffee table. “May I ask who?”

“Alastor,” She told me while taking a sip of her tea. “Do you have any pinky fingers?”

I furrow my brows as I tell my assistant to get her the fingers. “Forgive me– age might just be catching up with me– but who is Alastor?” I frown. I haven’t been to a meeting in a while but I don’t recall seeing anyone new on the news…

“The Radio Demon,” She says casually.

“Goodness,” I laugh slightly. “Velvette told me he was attending meetings but I didn’t believe it.”

She hums. “You’ve met?”

I smile awkwardly. “Briefly, some time ago.”

“Ah,” She nods understandingly. “He’s calmed down some.”

“Oh I hope so,” I chuckle. “I almost feel guilty for how I treated him.”

Rosie gave me a look and I cracked a grin.

She looked at the clock and stood with a sigh. “Did you plan on going?”

“I didn’t,” I muse. “I can if you wish me too.”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” She told me.

I hum and stand. “Allow me to change.”

When I come back out of my quarters, I have on a deep red off the shoulder dress that pools along the floor. Rosie smiles and clasps her hands together.

“Gorgeous as always, Libby,” She teases.

I wave away the compliment. “Nothing compares to you, Love,” I offer my hand.

She takes it and we swirl into the shadows before reappearing in the building. I break away from her to see Carmilla.

“Marionette,” She greets. “Long time no see.”

“Apologies,” I smile. “I’ve been busy.”

Zestial greets me and I do the same. “I hear you sent a direct invitation to Alastor,” he says to her.

She raises an eyebrow. “No one said he can’t come to these meetings.”

I nod. “He is an overlord, and as such has the same duties as us.”

Carmilla sets down a clipboard and turns to the table. “All right!”

I settle beside her and look at the filled seats that were all turned to three empty seats. I raise an eyebrow in amusement and exchange looks with Carmilla who clears her throat and begins the rather short list of deaths.

“Overall I think not much has changed since last year,” She shrugs. “No one has anything to add?”

When no one does, she drops her gavel and I pout. “I thought Vox would be here.”

“I told him not to come,” Carmilla says offhandedly, when she catches my disappointment. “What? You and him have been beefing for years.”

“Yes but I was looking for some drama with him and the Radio Demon,” I sigh. “Only reason I come to these things anymore.”

She gives me an odd look. “You don’t come to these things.”

I shrug and look around for Rosie. When I do, I beam and walk over to her. “This was disappointing,” I sigh.

“Oh Libby!” She clutched my arm and spun me around. “Alastor, this is Liviana.”

Alastor’s trademark smile stretches slightly. “We’ve met.”

I hum and hold out my hand. “I do hope I didn’t do too much damage.”

“Not at all,” he takes my hand and we both smile.

Mine was so practiced and sickly sweet, and his was threatening and intimidating. Rosie watched us warily, realizing what may have happened.

“Vee’s were a no show,” She commented.

I took my hand back and crossed my arms. “Of course not, Vox will say they had meetings but I know he just doesn’t want to get beat again.”

She sighed and shook her head. “You warned him.”

I laughed and patted her shoulder while turning away. “That I did, see you around, Love. And you Alastor,” I gave him a polite half wave before whirling into a tornado of shadows and reappearing in my office.

“Indara,” I call out the door. “Can I have you order a box of fried dough from New Orleans to be sent to the radio tower? Sign my name on it as well.”

I felt his presence before I got the call.

“Milady, the-”

“Have someone bring him up here,” I said into the speaker on the wall. “And have someone bring tea as well, thank you.”

I stood from my desk and walked to a closet I had in my office, I went through a filing cabinet and whistled an aimless tune.

“Ma’am,” One of my staff greeted me, setting down my tea, I smiled and thanked him.

Static filled the air and I patted my hair down with a frown.

“I didn’t take you as the kind to send threats!”

I chuckle and toss a file on my desk. “That’s because I’m not,” I gave him a curious look. “Did I guess right? Your accent is warped slightly so I took a gamble.”

Alastor watched me as I moved around my office, doing work as if he wasn’t there. “You were correct, my dear..”

“These are new floors so I would refrain from any tentacle monsters in here please,” I tease lightly as I walk around my desk and over to the two loveseats. “Tea?”

He nodded and sat across from me. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow. “How so?”

“This,” He taps his cup and sips his drink. “Hospitality that I see from this side of hell.”

I set down my cup and cross my legs. “You mean Rosie and I.”

“Indeed,” His claws dig into the black upholstery. “It was my understanding that you were the most…intimidating of all the overlords.”

“All of us hope we’re the most intimidating,” I tell him. “I’ve just been around longer so there’s more rumors about me floating around.”

A studio audience laugh echoes through his microphone. “My dear you don’t look a day over 25!”

I scrunch my nose and sip my drink. “Thank you, I suppose.”

“You truly must tell me where you purchased those baked goods,” He told me, wistfully. “They tasted fresh baked from home.”

“I had an imp order from the surface then take it down here,” I say. “I can ask which bakery if you’d like.”

He beamed. “That would be helpful, thank you.”

I smile genuinely. “I’m glad you came, however I do have a meeting with a certain TV demon that neither of us are fond of.”

Alastor’s static made a screeching sound and stood up. “Ah yes, Vox was his name?” When I nod he continues. “He has made it some sort of mission to get me in his merry band.”

“Bloody hell,” I sigh, rubbing my nose. “He’s a fool, I keep him around for his influence.”

“I’m off to meet Rosie for lunch,” He cheers.

I beam and turn to him. “Give her my warmest wishes.”

“That I will.”

When he leaves, my assistant walks in and sets down a file I had asked for earlier. “Ma’am?” I hum and look up at them. “If I may– why did you forgive him so easily?”

I tap my nails to the table. “I suppose I’m a believer in second chances.”

This is so self indulgent lmfao, I'm really just testing out a few different things and this is what came of it. Tell me if you like this or want me to continue it, ik I tend to leave fics hanging but I do try I swear.

Tell me if you want to be tagged as well!

#oc #fanfiction #oc fanfiction #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x oc #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #the radio demon #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel #self indulgent #ao3 writer #writers on tumblr #writeblr #creative writing

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shinydolphin · 28 days ago

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Beware the Evil Afro Guy

Have you ever heard of the Evil Afro Guy? I’m guessing you haven’t, and probably think that name is vaguely racist. But if you ever played Poptropica during the heyday of Flash, you might have seen him. Maybe you disregarded him as nothing but a glitch. For those of you who don’t know, Poptropica was a children’s online adventure game in the 2010s, in which players complete many quests on various “islands.” I loved getting lost in all those worlds, bouncing around every scene like a maniac. Out of curiosity, I looked it up again a few weeks ago, and it turns out most of the islands have been wiped. There’s only a couple on the map now, none of them from when I used to play. They say it’s because Flash died and they couldn’t port everything over, but I know better. I know it’s because of him

I was eight the first time I saw him. It was late, I was supposed to be asleep but I’d snuck onto the desktop computer in my room anyway once I was sure my parents wouldn’t check on me. I was in the Soda Pop Shop on Early Poptropica Island. Usually it was pretty busy, that commonroom with the checkerboard floor and neon signs laggy as hell and filled with dozens of avatars bouncing around playing mini-games. But that night, it was empty. Except for him. He was grinning with pure white skin, wearing a white vest and black pants. And of course, as the name suggests, he had a black afro. As far as the crazy character customisation on the game went, this was incredibly basic. Boring even. But something about it still gave me the creeps.

Having nothing better to do, I decided to add him as a friend. It was odd, instead of the silly Poptropica character names like Zany Hamburger or Purple Foot, his showed up as UNDEFINED UNDEFINED. I disregarded it as a glitch. Great as the game was, it was famously riddled with them. I decided to challenge him to a game of Skydiving. I had a 5 star battle ranking and expected some easy wins, but he obliterated me. Every single time. Before I could even click to jump, it was over. My childish ego was bruised, and like any sore loser, after the 7th humiliation, I ended the minigame. Instead, I decided to use the in-game chat system to talk to him.

“Who’s your favourite Poptropica character?” I picked from the canned list, expecting Black Widow or Dr. Hare. His answer appeared instantly.

“You are, [MY NAME].”

I froze. Not my username, not my character’s name. My real name. The one I knew I hadn’t entered anywhere. Poptropican eyes follow the player’s cursor, but his were staring into me, black pupils boring through the screen.

I tried to shut down the browser window, get away from him, but my mouse and keyboard weren’t working. I could hear my heart pound over my sister’s faint snoring and the whir of my computer fan.

My Poptropica character started crying. Her cartoon tears rained as she wailed with a silent mouth and I didn’t know what to do. Then he asked me a question. In the same style as the pre-scripted Poptropica bubbles, but I knew this was definitely not part of the game.

“How do you want to die?”

Above my character, still crying, were actual clickable answers.

Drowning

Suicide

Car crash

My hand wasn’t on the mouse, I swear to God it wasn’t. But the cursor moved, gliding towards the options like some twisted planchette. I didn’t want to find out what it would select. Panicking, I yanked out the power cord straight from the back. The screen went black and I gasped out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding in relief. With trembling fingers, I slapped a random horse sticker from the drawer in my desk onto my webcam. I didn’t sleep that night.

You’d think I’d never touch Poptropica again after that, but I was a dumb kind and it was a fun game. I figured it was just a hacker and I’d be fine if I avoided the common rooms. I deleted him from my friends list the next time I logged in, but when the page refreshed, he was still there. Only now his name wasn’t UNDEFINED UNDEFINED, it was Gentle Seal. That was my sister’s character. Her Poptropican, the one with the Viking helmet and twin braids, was gone. It had been replaced by him. I asked her about it, maybe she had changed her appearance as a sick joke – though there was no way she could have known – and she had no idea what I was talking about. She hadn’t played the game in months. We tried logging into her account but it just didn’t work. User not found.

I ended up making a new account. If you’ve read my previous blog post, you’ll know that I switched my original account after a year. This was why. It was a completely different username, and I made sure my new Poptropican looked nothing alike the first. I didn’t go to common rooms anymore. I just stuck to the islands. The islands were safe.

Until he came back.

I was on Mythology Island, trying to costumise the rose crown from Aphrodite. But when I opened the costumiser, she wasn’t there. Evil Afro Guy was. His eyes flickered wildly as he grinned at me, bloody sockets flashing between cartoon frames. Even with my webcam covered, I knew he was watching me. Another time on Spy Island, Director D had been replaced by Evil Afro Guy. When I clicked him, instead of his usual mission, the text bubble overflowed with garbled unicode. I couldn’t make out any of it, but it filled me with a pit of dread. I refreshed the page and it returned to normal. Those things I could have dismissed as mere glitches, but I know there’s more to it.

Do you remember the Goth Guy NPC on Reality TV Island? With the floppy hair and skull t-shirt? He wasn’t important to the plot or anything. If you played after 2013, you’ve probably never seen him and it’s all my fault. I had a bit of a crush on him as a kid even despite the goofy Poptropica art style and I wanted to take a screenshot of my Poptropican next to him. Just something silly. I clicked on him to initiate dialogue. He flickered. I blinked and he wasn’t himself anymore. It was Evil Afro Guy. I refreshed the page, and he was just…. Gone. No matter how many times I restarted the island, he just wasn’t there. I tried to ignore it, finish the rest of the island, but once I got to the Reality TV show aspect of the Island, instead of the usual variety of characters, all of the contestants were all identical. They were all him. They taunted me during the challenges. Not in the usual canned phrases. Real things. Awful, personal things. He knew things about me he shouldn’t, like what I really kept in the box under the bed, or why I’d burnt those journals. When I tried to vote any of them out, they spoke in unison, chat bubbles overlapping.

“You can’t get rid of me.”

I never finished that island.

I stopped playing for good after that. Years slipped by and I grew older, time hazing over any memory of Poptropica. I’d convinced myself it was just a bad dream I’d had and moved on with my life. Until a few weeks ago. I’d seen a post about Poptropica on one of those nostalgia-bait Instagram accounts, and something about it made me want to log in again, prove to myself how silly my childhood nightmare had been. My account was exactly the same 15 years later, but the game itself had been stripped down. The sprawling multi-page map had been gutted to just 3 and all the islands I remembered were gone. Early Poptropica, Spy, Mythology, Reality TV. They may as well have never existed. At first I believed the official story, the death of Flash and budget cuts. But the more I expired the overly simplistic and polished new islands, the more I was convinced otherwise. The removal of the costumiser feature really solidified it for me. They didn’t lose the islands, they quarantined them. Removed any feature that could have let him slip through. Sealed away childhood joy to stop him spreading. The new islands were sterile, purposefully dull. No more real interaction. Safe.

Or so I thought. I saw a thread on Reddit (sue me, I know), discussing how to play the old islands. Flashpoint was heralded as a popular option. It’s a sort of digital archive that lets you play dead Flash games offline. Local copies, stored directly on your computer. No central servers, no web devs to monitor or patch any cracks. All the old islands, all the old code. Everything exactly as it was. Including him.

I doubt anyone will listen, but please, DO NOT DOWNLOAD FLASHPOINT. You aren’t just resurrecting the old islands, you’re resurrecting Evil Afro Guy too. And with every computer he has access to, he only grows stronger. They may have removed the common rooms, but he will find a way. And when he does, it will already be too late.

#poptropica #creepypasta #satire #creepy #nostalgia #webcore

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sociopathicartist · 3 months ago

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So… Uhm.. I messed up!! :( !!!

There was an anonymous request for a one-shot where the reader was having a panic attack and Sans walked in during the middle of it etc. I'm 95% sure it was anonymous so IDK who requested it. My dyslexia was being silly and even despite reading over the request MULTIPLE. TIMES. I accidentally made a headcanon list instead!!! :(

I panicked and deleted it and the request got lost. Whoever requested this, this is for you, lol. Anyways. If the OG requester sees this and wants me to give them the headcanons as well as an apology from me then just feel free to DM me, they’re already done and written lol.

(since i was so mentally prepared for this to be a headcanon list, i did take inspo from a chapter from ‘The Party Incident and Other Embarrassing Anecdotes’ by Poublee on A03.)

“babe, try and calm down, what happened? talk to me.” Sans’ voice pleaded quietly with you, and his gloved hands grabbed both of yours to not only prevent you from accidentally whacking someone with how you were fanning yourself but to also lead you away from the crowd of people.

What happened? Great question. The weather was too hot and it felt like your skin was burning (you knew you should have put on sunscreen.), your clothes were too tight to your skin but also loose and you hated how the fabric felt, the world was spinning but everything looked still, the people at this concert were too loud, and you were exhausted.

“I- I don’t know, I want to go home,” You didn’t even have the way home memorized since this was a newer area in the city, and your phone being on two percent didn’t help your fear of it dying and you not being able to use the maps to get home.

It just… didn’t occur to you that Sans’ phone was not only charged- but he could also just zip you both out of here with the warm crackle of his ozone-scented magic.

To both of you, going to a concert today sounded like a fun idea. There had been a power outage at your apartment, so you couldn’t binge and watch TV like you always did together when both of you were off from work. Sans had been scrolling on his laptop mindlessly to satiate his boredom while you laid on top of him half-asleep, and he saw a post online about this outside concert downtown for a newer band. The tickets were dirt cheap and the concert was only two hours from now, so why not?

To cut it short and simple, the band’s music sucked ass, and while you were both laughing about it at first- everything quickly became funny when some asshole pushed you down while you were trying to go to the concessions stand. Not only had you scraped your palms red and bloody when you fell onto the concrete, but your brand-new tights got ripped clean through on your knees from the jagged ground.

Sans hadn’t even been near you when this happened since he was sitting somewhere scrolling on his phone so that he could find a place for you two to eat after this (neither of you felt like cooking), so he was blissfully unaware of you fighting for your life when you rushed to the bathroom to go clean up your palms and knees.

Of course, to your luck, the only sink that was working was- surprise! Broken. It sprayed water at you and hit you straight in your face, parts of your makeup now blurring down as the water dripped off of your chin and down onto your shirt.

So to Sans’ surprise, you came back a complete mess whenever he turned around and saw you- just about to hit you with the ‘who is this sexy person behind me that looks identical to my partner,’ before he saw your wrecked state.

You had been doing a decent job at keeping yourself composed until Sans turned around and saw you, his smug face that hinted that he was about to drop some dumb pick-up line to you instantly snapping to a look of concern. You just couldn’t take it. Your boyfriend, the love of your life was pitying you. It only took a second before you broke down into tears, fanning yourself with your hands as you tried to prevent your tears from ruining your makeup any more than the water from the bathroom already had.

That led you to where you were now, with Sans holding your hands and trying to get you to calm down.

It was really obvious that he didn’t know what to do. Most of your breakdowns you only let happen when you were alone, but for some reason, you were freaking out this time, and simply breathing seemed like an intense chore, and Sans (who had only seen you cry once before) had no idea how to comfort you. He was trying to talk to you, but it was like you didn’t understand any of the words coming out of his teeth, and you were too focused on everything happening around the two of you to process that he was trying to help you calm down.

Papyrus had never freaked out like this when Sans was watching him grow up and while Alphys had some panic attacks from time to time- Sans was never there for any of them and had only heard about it from Undyne. If he had known that info on how to deal with these would be helpful to him later in the future, he would have asked her what to do! But here he was, clueless.

“you’re okay, look at me,” Horrible comforting that he was mirroring what he’d seen in movies, but he was trying! “you want to go home?”

A quick nod from you was all he needed to zip the both of you back to your apartment, having to push you down gently to sit on the couch.

The comfort of being home began to slow things down for you, and your short-paced breaths began to slow down to calmer ones as you came to your senses. You were home… Sans’ gloved mittens were covering your hands as he looked at you in silence, waiting for you to say something to him.

Say something…

“…I’m okay…” You quietly spoke to assure him a bit, looking at his white pinpricks that slowly began to dilate when he realized you were relaxing. “I don’t know what happened. I haven’t had a panic attack in a long time…”

“your palms are scraped.” Sans gently lifted your hands into his, the fabric of his gloves snagging slightly against your scuffed palms. “wait here for a second.”

He zipped away into thin air with nothing but the crackle of magic and the smell of ozone left of him, and there you sat for less than a minute before he appeared in front of you again.

“okay, we don’t have monster candy, so this is what we got.” He opened up his hands to reveal several cute bandaids that he’d clearly dug deep for in the medicine cabinet. “here, let me put them on your palms.”

Your knees were also scraped, but not bad enough to Sans’ judgment for needing pink bandaids to cover the wounds. He slipped off his mittens, setting the bandaids down on the coffee table and quickly unwrapping one before holding one of your hands and pressing the bandaid down over your palm.

“I tripped.” You stated, clearing things up a bit.

Honestly, you weren’t sure how to explain why you had a panic attack out of nowhere and how you got so busted up. Everything happened so fast.

Sans didn’t say anything, and that was your clear cue to keep talking.

“And the, uhm… The stupid sink in the bathroom was broken. I had gone in there to try and clean off my palms, but it sprayed water on me instead. My makeup is ruined.” Your mind cleared the more that you spoke to him, the common effect of his comfort given just from his existence.

“i think you still look amazing, even if your makeup is running down your chin.” Sans never skipped a beat to drop a compliment into the conversation with you, similar to how you always sought the chance to tell him he looked good (even if he didn’t believe it).

The compliment drew a smile to your face, and you quietly admired your boyfriend while he put bandaids onto your scuffed, hurt palms. “Thank you, Sans.”

“yeah.” His short answer was all you needed to hear to know that he didn’t really know what else to say, followed by his quick conversation diversion. “wanna hear a joke?”

Of course, you did. “Yes, talk to me.”

“what musical keys do cows sing in?”

Weird… You hadn’t heard this one before. He finished putting the bandaids onto your palms right as he was speaking, and you took the chance to grab onto your shorter boyfriend and pull him in to sit on the couch with you.

“I don’t know… What?”

“beef flat.” He dropped the punchline, and you shook your head at the joke.

He didn’t even let you assure that the joke was funny before he put a hand up to hide his face from you, not even wanting to look at you right now. “you hate me. the joke was so bad that you can’t even laugh.”

Okay, his comment instantly drew a laugh from you, and you tried to grab onto his hand to pull it down. “Sansss, It was funny, I swear! You didn’t even give me time to laugh.”

“no, you hate me and my jokes.” Sans kept his hand up covering his face for as long as he could, but it didn’t take much strength against his lack of muscles for you to pull his hand down so that you could see his smirking face again. “and you won’t even let me look away from you.”

It was in the back of your mind to want to just hold onto him like he wasn’t a grown man, but you didn’t, instead just looking at him in silence while he stared at you, clearly expecting some sort of witty comeback.

“Thank you…” You spoke quietly to him, appreciative that he had zipped you back home instead of letting you continue to freak out at the uncomfortable outdoor concert pit.

Sans pulled your hand that was holding his to his teeth, giving your knuckles a little teeth bump kiss. “yeah, anytime, baby.”

#undertale #undertale au #undertale alternate universe #sans #sans undertale #sans x reader #sans x you #sap #classic sans #sans headcanons

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hellfirenacht · 1 year ago

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Reader ==> Get A Job

START HERE <<-- FIRST CHAPTER HERE

Fic Summary: Through no powers of your own, you end up in Hawkins 1985, in a tv show that you once saw on Netflix. Slow burn, Eddie Munson x Reader will be canon, choose your own adventure to a degree

Recommended Previous Chapter: Reader ==> Move into Benny's

Chapter Summary: You explore Hawkins and find a place to work.

Tags: no warnings needed. Eddie Munson x Reader, references to Flight of Icarus events, no use of y/n

Reader ==> Get A Job

Things were cheaper in 1986, and you had been lucky that the bills you had used to pay for some new clothes and some food had fooled the bored and tired cashiers, but it wasn’t gonna last forever and you needed a way to make money.

With all the walking you had been doing over the week of living at Benny’s, you were sure that within a month you’d have legs of steel. You really should invest in a bike at some point to make this go by faster, but for now it was you and your beat up sneakers that you had thrown on when you had thrown yourself out that window.

Early mornings were spent at the library, using their resources to try and find listings. Without the internet, it was a lot harder to find job listings or really any information. The first priority for yourself was to just learn how to survive without the internet or anything from 2023. Not having a valid ID was the trickiest part to navigate, your current one expired in 2030 and anyone with half a brain here would instantly throw you in jail. You assumed as much anyway.

An afternoon of looking through the papers didn’t do much for you, and the librarian wasn’t the most helpful. You needed to find a way to get a fake ID soon, or you were absolutely boned.

You found yourself walking more through the day, mapping out the town in your mind because you didn’t have a phone to tell you where things were. You had a handful of time appropriate ones that you spent on a cheap meal at a local fast food joint.

There were a few places that you found to be familiar. If you turned left at this street and then a right and then another left you’d be at Hawkin’s Public school, and if you went straight instead you’d end up in Mike’s neighborhood and the pool.

You turned right, expanding your map and unlocking more areas of the town. For saying that it’s a small town, it sure didn’t feel like that on foot. The further you walked in this direction, the less shops were appearing and you found yourself in what you assumed was the edge of town. A large cornfield stretched out as far as you could see, and you were half tempted to grab an ear for the road before remembering you had no way to cook it right now anyway.

The middle of Hawkins, Indiana felt like Anywhere, USA. Here by the cornfield you were now very aware just how mid-western you were. The only buildings around seemed to be factories or abandoned steel mills, and with the sun setting, they cast long shadows along the near abandoned streets.

It was going to be dark soon, and you didn’t have the best confidence that you could make your way back to Benny’s in the dark but there wasn’t much you could do at this point. Besides, it’s not like anyone was waiting up for you, or that you had anywhere to go tomorrow. You didn’t exactly want to be out that late, but being back at Benny’s actually felt worse. You didn’t know if you wanted to spend another night alone like that.

There were a lot of run down and boarded up buildings, and you were about to just turn around when you noticed that one building did have a sign on, flickering weakly in the fading light. THE HIDEOUT. The i in the sign was fighting for its life to stay on.

Fuck it, it’s not like you had anywhere to be tonight. What’s the worst that could happen walking into a shady dive bar at the edge of town with no one knowing where you are and what you’re doing.

The Hideout was a very small building, with bricked windows and no natural light. Inside there was only one person at the bar, and a small older woman behind it. This was definitely not a place that you’d come to socialize, but then again if it was it probably wouldn’t be called ‘the Hideout.’

There was a small alarm bell going off in your mind, but there had been alarm bells going off since you showed up.

The woman behind the bar gave you a cursory nod as you hopped onto the stool. You knew you were over 21 maybe? But you doubted that you’d be able to order an actual drink with your ID. You didn’t even know why you bothered keeping it around, it’s not like it was doing you any good anyway.

You ordered a soda, handing over two crumpled one’s and looked around. The place looked like it was under some sort of permanent construction. A patch of carpet in the corner looked like it was being ripped up, revealing some old wood flooring and there was what looked like a stage pushed against the wall, haphazardly made out of two by fours. It looked like it would fall apart with one wrong move.

“A bunch of kids play up there sometimes when I let ‘em.” the barkeep said, messing with some bottles behind the bar and handing a beer to the man a few seats down from you. Her voice was loud, and it made you jump in surprise that such a small woman could project so hard in such a quiet space.

“Play music?” you asked, turning back to the woman.

“If that’s what they wanna call it.” she shrugged, which made you snort. It felt nice to talk to a real person and not an imaginary one.

“Bunch of damn noise is what it is.” said the other man, taking out a newspaper and flipping through it. .

“This place doesn’t seem like the open mic type.” you said.

“It’s not, but I’m too nice sometimes.” She looked you up and down. “You’re dressed weird.”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” you agreed, still unsure how to style yourself in this time and town. Her jab came out as more of an observation than an outright criticism. 80’s adjacent style had been in when you left your own time period, so you probably looked off center of what was expected.

That was the last of the small talk for a while as she left the bar and stepped outside, leaving the place completely unattended. Your drinking buddy wasn’t paying you any mind and you probably came across as someone who wasn’t about to rob the place. You took a sip of your soda, which tasted stale but you get what you pay for in a quiet dive bar like this.

The woman came back just in time for the man to get need another beer and set his newspaper aside, looking more irritated than before and muttering something about horses under his breath.

You took the opportunity to turn to him “Mind if I take a read?” you asked, pointing to the paper and he pushed it towards you without a word and a muttered ‘thanks’ from you.

The whole morning had already been filled with looking over papers and listings for jobs but you might as well check again to see if there was anything you might have missed.

...After checking the funny pages and the entertainment section. You deserved some entertainment, right?

A after a nice half hour of reading the comics and glancing over the astrology section- (‘You are valuing security and comfort in your life. Be patient and it will come’)- you turned back to the job listings, reading the same handful of words over and over again that you’d seen this morning and sighed.

“Lookin’ for a job?” you jumped hearing the woman speak again, her voice was so loud.

“Oh, yeah. I’m trying. I don’t exactly have, uh...” Papers? An identity? Any legal way to work here? “I’m new in town so I don’t have my shit together yet.”

The woman set her bussing tub next to you and looked you over. “Can you bus tables?” she asked, and you responded by placing your empty glass into the tub, which earned a nod from her. “Any hour restrictions?” You shook your head. “What’s your name?” You told her.

“I only pay cash.” she said. “And the hours aren’t great but it’s something.”

“I’ll take it.” you said instantly, heart pounding. Any job was better than no job, and if she was willing to not ask any questions, and pay you under the table you weren’t going to turn your nose up at it. “When can I start?”

As you and the barkeep (who finally introduced herself as Bev) hashed out the details, you felt at least a little bit of weight lift off your shoulders. You’d be working about four nights a week, and she’d pay out on Wednesdays weekly.

“Since you don’t have a phone, let’s just call it Saturday through Tuesday for now.” she said. “Might schedule on Wednesdays if you’re good. That’s when I do fifty cent beer nights and you can make tips well enough.”

Good enough. You’d be there, come hell or high water and shoved a napkin with her name and phone number in your backpack.

“I’ll have Junior train you when he gets here.” Bev said, looking at her watch. “He’ll be here soon. He’s about your age.”

As thankful as you were that you were starting right away, you partially wished that you didn’t have to start after walking around in the Indiana heat and summer all day. You felt gross and like you really needed a shower and you made a mental note to try and sneak into Mike’s house tomorrow to try and shower. You made your way to the bathroom and attempted to clean yourself up a bit for your first night of work.

You could handle bussing tables and serving beer. If there was one thing here you could handle, it was that.

When you exited the bathroom, Bev motioned you behind the bar and handed you an apron and the bus tub. There were a few extra people around now that it was later and you assumed that these blue collar workers were now off for the night in the surrounding factories.

Somewhere in the back, you heard a door close and footsteps approach.

“You’re late, Junior.” Bev said, as you turned towards the door to see your new coworker.

“I told you, Bev, It’s Eddie.”

Oh fuck.

Reader ==> Meet Eddie Munson

He has a pimple on his chin. Was what your brain supplied as your first thought about seeing Eddie Munson in front of you. And he’s not wearing his club shirt.

He didn’t even have a jacket on, which shouldn’t surprise you with it being summer and yet it did. Seeing Eddie in anything other than what you had seen on screen was like a shock to your system.

Your grip on the bus tub was causing your knuckles to turn white as you listened to Eddie tell Bev for what seemed like the hundredth time to not call him Junior.

“Right right, old habits die hard.” Bev said dismissively. “Anyway this is your new co-worker and you’re gonna train her.”

It’s like he didn’t even notice that you were there until Bev pointed it out. Large doe brown eyes looked over at you, and your heart was pounding in your throat for a second. You weren’t ready, you weren’t. Your plan had been to learn to survive here and then try to find a way to deal with canon events.

Eddie’s eyes darted between you and Bev, looking surprised “I didn’t think you were hiring.” he said.

“I’m not, I have you two.” Bev said, ignoring Eddie’s real question which you were sure was something along the lines of What the hell, Bev? You tried not to take it personally. “Anyway, I need to step outside. I’m sure you can show her the ropes.”

Bev then turned and stalked out back, cigarette in hand.

“Uhh... hi.” you said as Eddie turned back to you. You offered up your name and he offered up his. “I take it Bev doesn’t hire often?”

Your fingers were starting to hurt with how hard they were digging into the plastic edges of the tub. He was here, Eddie was right here, and you didn’t know what to do. What could you do? Start yelling about how he was going to die if he ever did a drug deal with a cheerleader?

“No, she rarely accepts help around here.” Eddie said, now turned towards you.

A decision had to be made, and you took every memory you had of Stranger Things Vol. 4 and shoved it in a crumpled heap in the back of your mind. You wouldn’t acknowledge it, you couldn't. There would be a time and place to process this and if you did that right now, you were sure to freak out. Again.

“Guess I’m lucky.” you tried to keep your voice calm, and gave a small cough to cover any wavering.

Eddie reached out and pulled the tub from your vice grip and you rubbed your fingers, thankful you didn’t drop it.

“Lucky? We’ll see how you feel about that after working a few shifts.” he shook his head. “Not many people would consider a part time job in an old dive bar lucky.”

“I have limited options right now.” you explained, following Eddie as he led you around the dining area, the two of you picking up random glasses. “A shady dive bar that doesn’t ask questions and pays under the table is kind of perfect for me right now.”

Did that sound suspicious? Maybe, but it was already out there. To your surprise, Eddie nodded.

“This shithole isn’t much, but it’s one of the few good places around here.” He explained. “It’s the only place in town that has a stage at least.”

Right, of course. You should have put two and two together when Bev mentioned a band playing on occasion. Eddie’s band.

It was actually unnerving how you kept running into characters people you recognized. You had literally run into Steve Harrington and now Eddie Munson while actively trying to avoid them. Someone out there must be fucking with you.

“The stage looks like it’s this close to being more floor.” You said, glancing over at the slight riser against the wall.

Eddie snorted. “Yeah, but it holds up surprisingly well. It hasn’t given out on me yet.”

“So, I take it your band is the one Bev was talking about?” You asked, feigning ignorance.

“Corroded Coffin.” he said, reminding you of the name of the band. “We mostly do covers or metal and rock songs but we have a few original songs.” Then, as an afterthought he added “We play on Tuesdays usually. If you were curious.”

You smiled at the can of beer you were crushing and tossing in the bin. There wasn’t anything subtle about the hint he wanted you to come. With how empty the Hideout was, you decided it was less personal and more about him being interested in anyone hearing them play.

“I’ll bring earplugs to my shift then.” you said, glancing at him with a smile that you hoped let him know you were joking.

Thankfully, Eddie laughed at that and led you back to the bar. “Good luck, Bev’s single amp has only two settings, ‘loud’ and ‘louder.’”

“You two better be talking about work and not just socializing.” Bev said as she walked back in.

“Just telling her all about how the Hideout has a long standing history of being a patron of the arts.” Eddie said, giving her a wide smile.

“No, you can’t play on Wednesdays.” Bev said, “Now go get Sam another drink.”

Eddie didn’t seem phased and took the next few minutes to show you the back of the bar and the different beer and handful of mixers.

“I wouldn’t touch any of the sodas, they fell off a truck in ‘82 and I think they expired in ‘79.” He joked.

“Would have been helpful to know about an hour ago.” you replied.

“Don’t worry, you probably won’t get sick off of rum and croak here.” Every time Eddie looked at you, your heart jumped up into your throat.

Self, you gotta chill. Yes, he’s a cute guy doomed by the narrative but that’s no reason to be weird about this. There’s a thousand other reasons to be weird about it. Just pretend he’s not... him... and that he’s just your co-worker. Not real. Not real. Not real.

‘Not real’ was starting to become your survival mantra.

Eddie didn’t offer up too much information about himself and you held back as well. With Bev watching you both like a hawk, there wasn’t a lot of time for small talk except when she went for a smoke break. When it was Eddie’s turn for a smoke break, you declined stepping outside with him, not ready to be alone with him.

Then again, could you confidently say that you’ll be ready for anything now?

As it approached ten, Bev decided to let you go. “No need for you tonight, and Eddie’s given you the rundown. Be back Saturday at 7.” she instructed.

You jotted down the address of the bar and thanked her again, and you looked over at Eddie and gave him as genuine a smile as you could. “Nice meeting you... Eddie.”

Eddie waved you off as he popped open a beer for another patron.

Reader ==> Go Home

You can’t. Home hasn’t even been built yet and you have no idea where it is.

Reader ==> Go Back To Benny’s

You don’t really want to, but you were exhausted and really wanted to go to sleep.

When you stepped outside it was a lot cooler out now that the sun was down and you tried to reorient yourself as to where you were. If you could make it back to town you could probably make your way back to the diner.

There were a few cars in the gravel lot but one stood out; a van.

You should leave it alone.

Reader ==> Check Out Eddie’s Van

You should leave it alone but curiosity got the best of you. You casually made your way over to the van and checked over your shoulder to make sure Eddie wasn’t about to kick down the doors and demand you step away from the vehicle.

When he didn’t you peered in the driver side window. It was dark so you couldn’t get a good look at the inside but you saw a few tapes and fast food wrappers scattered along the front seats. The center console was closed, and the interior of the van looked worn but relatively stain free as far as you could tell.

Slipping around to the side of the van, you peaked in the back windows. The back didn’t have any seats, and seemed pretty empty aside from a backpack, some scattered papers, and more trash.

It was just a van owned by a young adult man. You could have seen this van anywhere and not thought twice about it.

Reader ==> Go Back To Benny’s

It took you a long time to make it back in the dark, but you finally slipped in the back door of the diner, checking around the building once for safety, before finally collapsing on your futon as passing out, digesting the events of the day,

----

Tumblr User ==> Leave A Prompt

RULES

-I’m not writing in a liner way

- Current timeline I’m wanting to write is between August-December 1985. We will get to ‘86 later

-You can suggest reader do anything, there is no guarantee that I will pick your prompt!

-Prompts must be submitted through ask, as “READER => Do something” If you know, you know.

-Reader is a weirdo, a freak, and is not shy or popular. Reader probably has really bad ADHD.

-If I need to add more rules I will, if I change rules that’s allowed because it’s my fic

#nacht fic #Isekai Chronicles #eddie munson x reader

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