#9 was full of hate when he was angry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sh1-n0bu · 1 year

Note

This anon know what is good, i guess i never make a ask so i'm doing now. Can u do that concept with any character (and mc of course) , may a hybrid? Idk, sorry if is confuse, a lil nsfw maybe?

-🍑

✿ 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 ✿

characters: cat!6reeze x nb!reader

warnings: fluff!!!! fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff! also modern au!

notes: wanted to take a break from writing smut and take inspiration from my own fluffy bby for this one. also @junerixi , simping for only one☝️anemo boy is an illness. i hope you recover soon😚 honkai:star rail ver can be read here!

art by Mechodes on twt

oh gods

a menace

a complete menace i say

you know that thing cats do? when they just keep a direct eye contact with you as their little fluffy paw slowly pushes your potted plant or a cup full of drink to the edge of the table while you watch hopelessly bc your hands are dirty or busy doing smt?

yeah, it’s the 5th time the flower shop owner is seeing you this week and your wallet is crying

it’s almost as if you two were sworn enemies in your past life and scaranya is out for blood

doesn’t have that much of a zoomie episodes but when he does oh boy

you better retreat into a safe place but even then you’re not safe from scaranya’s terrifying zoomie powers

he’s literally running and jumping around everywhere

the table, on top of the fridge, the curtains, on top of the washing machine, your little bookshelf - everywhere

scaranya is such a little shit (affectionately)

his preferred way of waking you up is faking puking noises and when you throw your covers off and literally zoom into the living room, he gives you a look as if saying “finally awake, you silly human slave”

sometimes he even jumps on top of your chest harshly but that’s only used if you’re oversleeping with your alarm clock snoozed for the past 20 minutes and you’re running late to work

despises baths with a burning passion

if you’re taking him anywhere a large body of water is, he’s trashing around, kicking, hissing, biting, scratching - the whole pack

after a successful bathing time, with added new scratch marks on yourself, he would not approach you until you fall asleep

after you have fell asleep, he would quietly approach your sleeping figure and give small, shy licks to the angry red scratches he caused as if apologizing for being so aggressive

hates rainy days too, especially the ones with thunder and lightning

jumps up 5 ft into the air if a thunder strikes and runs into your lap, shaking small body curling into himself with all of his cockiness and pride out the window

scaranya appreciates you greatly but he’s just a bit too bad at communicating and so he shows his affection by lapping up the scratches he gave you

“scaranya, aren’t you gonna go out to the back garden and play with the rest? it’s nice outside today”

hmph! what do you mean by play with the rest of the cats? he’s a royal! he’s superior! scaranya has never heard of such bullshit befor- oh! a bird! must. catch!

scaranya and miao gets into fights sometimes and whenever you separate them, scaranya goes to sulk in the corner of the house silently

until you go over to him with a sigh and pick him up gently, he doesn’t even resist - just choosing to simply curl his tail around your wrist

a solid 9/10 kitty if he would just stop being a tsundere

art by Mechodes on twt

miao acts more like a guard dog than a cat sometimes

the smallest out of all the kitties yet also the strongest one. honestly the sheer amount of times miao has taken down a wild dog 10 times his size just keeps giving you more and more heart attack

doesn’t get zoomies, if anything he stops the other kitties’ zoomies if they go a bit too far - which most of the times escalate into scaranya and miao fighting

cleanse the land house through slaughter bug hunting

a sweet baby

miao’s preferred way of waking you up is to silently sit on your side of the bed and stare until you get that feeling of being watched and wake up to 2 piercing yellow eyes just staring holes into your soul

yes, you have yelled and fell off of your bed many times due to that

you found little miao at a dark alleyway, covered in blood and barely on the brink of death with his tiny paws twitching constantly

grew up malnourished on the streets with his 4 siblings dying out one by one, so due to that miao’s body is very small and he’s extremely territorial with you - his one and only sweet human

always leaves his scent on you by rubbing his head around your ankles

miao is indifferent when it comes to taking a bath, unlike scaranya, and he can be very obedient as well

when rubbing soap into his legs and washing his paws he would stretch out his limbs to make it easier for you to wash him - anything to lessen the load of his favorite human

he also seems to like your co-worker, zhongli a lot

one time you came home with zhongli due to a deadline of a great project coming closer and upon seeing him, miao immediately jumped into his lap, purring lowly, rubbing his head on zhongli’s hand

yes your heart broke at the betrayal and yes miao apologized with a dead rat in his mouth

but if it’s any other guests you’re bringing home, then miao would either get on top of the fridge and simply watch or hiss at the guest

oddly likes being in high places

one time, you made him a small necklace-collar thingy out of a few pearls and he wears that with pride, chest puffed out (a replica of his necklace)

loves sleeping on the lower parts of your bed at night. it’s soft, fluffy and he can keep an eye on you and keep you safe so it’s a win-win in miao’s book

“miao-miao, do you wanna come with me to the back garden to pick up the tomatoes?”

before you can even finish your question he’s already at the back door, staring at you expectantly with his tail thumping slowly against the floorboards

thanks to miao and kazunya your house will never get any bugs, roaches or mouses inside

if feeling incredibly vulnerable and soft, miao paws at your arm to ask for pets bc he just needs the comfort of his favorite human

literally a 9/10 kitty if he would just change his way of waking you up

art by ayon🌿 on twt

heinya is another little shit (affectionately)

he likes to cause trouble and drama here and there

also really enjoys spilling tea to you

it doesn’t matter if you’re waking up and is still groggy or just coming in through the front door, back from work - heinya is spilling all the drama of the shows he watched on the tv while you were away or the different birds he saw through the window - meowing away at you excitedly

another helpful hand

if you’re coming back from grocery shopping then heinya can take some of the smallest and lightest bagged things and dragging them to the kitchen alongside miao, kazunya and nyaether

heinya’s preferred way of waking you up is to make biscuits - you know that cute thing cats do with their paws squishing at their favorite spot over and over - on your stomach or lower back or! he just meows besides your ear over and over until you eventually wake up

the perfect alarm - heinya

he’s such a sweet baby

and heinya really likes watching real life crime documentaries for some reason

at first when you found this out, you couldn’t help but think heinya is going to murder you in your sleep but soon you realized he just loves crime related things

and bc he like crime related things, you bought heinya a cute spy glass shaped squeaky toy

when getting the zoomies, heinya decides to bite and kick at the spy glass shaped squeaky toy - making the toy let out squeaks at every little kick

heinya enjoys spending time outdoors, sniffing at the different scents wafting in the air, tracking down all different sorts of footsteps and paw marks with great interest - you sometimes wonder if heinya was a detective in his past life

loves to bring you all sorts of interesting things he found - an old ripped part of a newspaper article, a weirdly shaped leaf, a flower he has never seen before, a half bitten chicken still warm - wait where’d he get this?

loves to sleep using your hand as a pillow my cat does that to me so rip bc you have been captured by the amazing detective heinya and you won’t be moving for hours on end, let’s hope you had a nice snack and a toilet break beforehand

chose to wear the smooth, black satin you tied around his neck as a collar - either bc he loves to wear soft things or he just loves it bc you gave it to him

heinya is an incredibly affectionate kitty, always meowing for you for pets, cuddles and perhaps his favorite soft wet food? he’s been really good!

doesn’t really mind taking baths as well, if anything he uses this opportunity to shake bubbles everywhere!

for some reason, also loves to groom your hand. maybe it’s just something your kitties all share?

overall another solid 9/10 kitty, if you don’t mind being splashed with water and bubbles while bathing him

art by @bbadtime on tumblr

kazunya, me beloved

literally an angel, how could you ever be mad at him even as he took a whole bite out of your potted plants’ leaf?

another kitty that loves staying in high places like miao and stay outdoors like heinya

joins miao on his duty to cleanse the land house through slaughter bug hunting from time to time

a lazy, sweetheart of a cat that loves to sleep on warm places and the sunlight - you literally had to buy a window sling just for him to nap under the sunlight

another helpful hand!

will drag the lightest and smallest bagged things to the kitchen whenever you come back from grocery shopping - more so if it’s cat food

isn’t a picky eater but sometimes, just sometimes, prefers food with fish in it’s ingredients

kazunya is mostly tasked to wake you up by the other kitties bc he’s the sweetest

wakes you up by purring and snuggling with your face, neck, hands - anything just you in general

soon enough, the small fluff purring and cuddling you wakes you up and as a reward for waking up, kazunya gives you a small kiss - a lick to the tip of your nose - making you laugh

doesn’t meow a lot, only when he has to or if it’s an emergency such as the litter boxes not being cleaned, the food trays being empty etc

always gives you a kazunya kiss as a thank you

a gentle baby, even to the guests

whenever a guest comes over to your house, they always gush about the cute white cat with a small red streak in his fur

kazunya doesn’t get zoomies. even if he does it’s rare like only once a week

always grooms himself to keep himself clean, not to mention his white fur sparkling as well

surprisingly enjoys bath times, would even suggest you to bathe him by tugging on your sleeve then pointing to the bathroom with his fluffy paw!

however there’s just one thing that kazunya does that makes you shiver

it’s that he always, always! brings you dead animals or bugs. birds, rats, mouses, cockroaches, crickets - anything that he managed to hunt - he brings over to you with his tail swishing happily behind him

it’s considered a gift in cat language, you know that! but it’s just a bit dirty especially if he brings over different bugs. the rats, mouses and birds you can handle but the bugs brrr

one time, kazunya proudly brought you a dead wolf spider as you held back a tear and a screech, deciding to take his gift with a forced smile

you never recovered from that

a 10/10 kitty if he would just stop bringing you dead spide - kazunya is that a mf dead tarantula in your mouth?

art by os_Amaniwa on twt

another best kitty!

a sweet kitty that never complains!

helpful, never complains, never picky with his food - a literal angel

however sometimes nyaeather disappears randomly, coming back after a day or so

he always seems to be searching for something - his twin - you soon found out, by registering him and getting his pet password

and so you decided to help him reunite with his twin by putting up posters, articles, news on the internet, tv, radio - anything to make nyaether happy

after a whole half year of dedication and endless search, nyaether’s twin was finally found!

turns out the person who adopted nyaether’s twin was your co-worker, dainsleif, the quiet and mysterious tall man

after talking to him about the situation of the twin kitties, you both have come to an agreement to let the kitties have a play date once a week

when the day of the first play date has arrived an someone knocked on your door, your kitties gave you a confused look

upon taking nyaether in your arms, you walked over to the front door before unlocking it and letting dainsleif inside. as the blond man placed down the catbag and opened it, from inside stepped out a cute, similarly blonde furred kitty with a baby blue colored collar

upon seeing the kitty, nyaether jumped out of your arms and tackled his twin. cuddling her and licking at her face with a teary eyes - you and your co-worker dainsleif couldn’t help but laugh at the adorable situation

since then nyaether had made a silent oath to always be beside you and be your best kitty! you have done a lot for him by helping him reunite with his twin - nyumine - so he would do anything in his power to lessen your load!

nyaether’s preferred way of waking you up is by giving a gentle meow beside your ear and give your cheek three kisses - repeat the process on the other side until you eventually giggle and wake up

another kitty that doesn’t mind taking baths! however he just prefers the water to have a bit of bubbles to soothe his nerves

likes to sleep in your arms since he has separation anxiety like scaranya - due to the incident with his twin

“nyaether, keep the others in check okay? i’m going out on a quick grocery shopping!”

“myaaa!”

such a sweet baby🥹

his meows are higher pitched and not full “meow” like kazunya or miao’s instead it’s a short “myaa!”

a solid 11/10 kitty. highly recommend, get yourself a nyaether today!

art by os_Amaniwa on twt

a little shit AND a menace (affectionately)

very hyper too! sometimes you wonder if nyenti has ADHD but in cat version

it’s like he’s always in his zoomie mode as if to make up for having 2 kitties that barely has zoomies - which are miao and kazunya

his affectionate attitude doesn’t help as well

twirling, rubbing himself on your lap, hand, bageling his way around you - he’s always sticking close to you 24/7

one time as nyenti was rubbing himself on your hand while you were working on your computer for an important document, he tripped and fell on your keyboard - deleting your entire progress of work with a “myeeew!”

yes, you cried that night

unlike heinya, nyenti doesn’t really enjoy being outdoors - he just prefers to stay on your lap, lazily bathing in the sun - as he sometimes meows with heinya about some dramas

another kitty that loves to spill the tea to you

him and heinya meows your ears off with the things they have seen, watched, witnessed and heard - sometimes even adding some dirt on the other kitties such as kazunya eating leaves from your potted plants, scaranya sleeping on your hoodie bc he missed you, miao destroying the pantry during his duty to cleanse the land etc etc etc

nyenti’s preferred way of waking you up is to play with your hair. whether it be grooming at your hair, playing with them, tugging on the ends gently - it doesn’t matter which form - as long as nyenti wakes you up, that’s all

he also doesn’t do much hunting either, preferring to watch from the sidelines as the others chase some bugs and small animals they found

for some odd reason nyenti likes you to put flowers on top of his head or a flower shaped charms as a collar - his most favorite and preferred one being the white lily

cut the flower's bud and place it on top of nyenti upside down like it's a cone hat and nyenti would give you the biggest, affectionate "myew!" while rolling around on the ground, showing you his tummy

a sweet kitty if he would just stop being a little zoomie induced shit

nyenti is another kitty that hates taking baths

doesn't react as aggressive as scaranya but he likes to yell his defiance a lot and i mean a lot

overall, a solid 8.5/10 kitty if he would just stop meowing loudly in your ears everytime you take him for a bathtime, making you more and more deaf

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narcissarina · 1 month

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𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℭ𝔞𝔤𝔢, 𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔢 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰

Pairings: bodyguard!Leon × college billionaire!reader

Word count: 2,301

Summary: Your father hired Leon as your bodyguard.

𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙵𝙰𝙲𝙴

Leon Scott fucking Kennedy

The name that you heard so much from the news and to the mouths of your family. They even think of hiring him as your bodyguard, to protect you from danger—danger from this world.

“He’s big and strong, a kind of man you need.” You remember your father utter those words, as if he’s implying that you couldn’t protect yourself. Isn’t that why you started to learn martial arts? You think you don’t need a man to save you from danger when you can fight danger on your own, as long as you train hard enough.

Men are shit, that’s what you always thought.

Your father is shit, he left you with your struggling mother who tried everything to provide for you. Then he had the audacity to take you away from her when she passed.

Your exes are shit, they either cheated on your or just didn’t made time for you. They’re assholes, you despise their good for nothing excuses.

Then degenerates you see on the streets, eyeing you and catcalling you as if you were some trophy to won over nor steal.

You wanted to test this bodyguard of yours his patience, how long will it take before he snaps and leaves.

Such a thrilling experience, right?

𝙸.

Rolling over in your bed, you groan and hit your pillow a few times then threw it across your room. Ever since your asshole of a father took you in after your mom’s funeral, he took you in without asking if you have a say in it. Although you and your mother struggled financially, she was a good mother—working extra hours to earn little salary just to buy you new toys and essentials when you were young.

You despise your father, despise those fancy dresses he buys to you, despise those expensive gifts that he bought for you a few weeks ago. You just hate everything in this household.

Your step-mom was a little controlling, whenever you put on a slight revealing outfit—she would comment about it and make you change clothes, although you don’t listen and just went out with that outfit, she’d glare as if someone committed a sin in front of her.

You got up from bed, grumbling. Reaching out to find your phone on the bedside drawer and check the time, 9:20 AM.

Slowly then quickly getting out of bed to shower, brush your teeth, put on make-up. If step-mom was here, she’d asked; “who are you getting dolled up for, honey?” faking an innocent tone.

Mind your business, bitch.

You wore a fitted top, flared jeans and the converse heels that your mother bought for you—it was expensive as hell, but you appreciate every hard effort that your mother gives. Just to make her only child happy.

You always clean it whenever it gets dirty, even a slightest dust would bother you and you’d whine and get angry when it gets even a slightest dirt.

Your mom did say that she had to borrow some money to buy those heels for you, but you didn’t get a chance who she loans to. You wanted to pay her back and help her with the expenses, even wanting to help her pay those money back. But she declined, she said that all she wanted is that to see her little baby pretty, healthy and happy.

Looking at yourself in the full length mirror, turning around to see if it’s a match and that you’re ready to slay for the day. You grabbed your bag with what you need and got downstairs, you were greeted with the aroma of delicious food at the kitchen. One of father’s maids was cooking your breakfast, “morning.” You greet her with a smile.

The maid turn and smiled, “morning, miss!” seeing you greet her with a smile every morning she cooks for you, gives a warming sensation to the maids heart, “can I have some coffee, please?” you asked nicely, the maid nods and follows as she serve your plat in front of you. You always ask so politely, always saying please and saying it in a calm tone—well, your father is like that too, but you’re stepmother? She demands.

“would you like your coffee to be hot or iced?” the question made you snap away from your thoughts, fiddling with your pen and staring blankly at your assignment that you should’ve done last night, but laziness hits so who could blame you? Your friends.

“iced please.” You turn back to your assignment, “professor didn’t even teach this in class, what the…” you grip onto your hair and let out a frustrated sigh. Maybe if Sarina came to school today, she’ll teach you, right?

You felt something cold next to your cheek, you flinch at the cold and snap your eyes towards the maid. She chuckle, “sorry, miss. I could not help myself.” God even the maid in this house speaks expensive.

You smiled and took your ice coffee and thank the maid, which she always bow with elegance and say, “I am happy to serve you.” As if you were her master and she’s your slave, serving you and taking your request as demands.

You ate and left. Walked to school? No, your father wouldn’t let you. He’ll order every helper around the house to have you driven to school, he’d even go far as fire a random servant when you go against his words—so not only you didn’t listen, but also got a servant (who’s minding their own business) in trouble.

You didn’t want that, so you just follow what your father says and be a good little girl.

You practically zoned out throughout the entire ride, your driver not wanting to offend if he breaths wrong and get him fired, he asked nervously. “M-Ma’am…” he starts and you snap back to reality, “we have arrived at your destination.” Embarrassed as you are, zoning out throughout the entire ride—you check the time, 10:10 AM. You look at the driver in the eye and smiled at him, “thank you!” and left him some tip.

“Ma’am, I-I can’t take this!” the driver yelled, but you were already inside the school ground, the drivers voice didn’t reach your ear because you have an assignment to turn in. Wanting to find Sarina quick, you know just the place she’ll be in.

The library, because she is a book whore.

Quickly making your way to the library, you spot her. Finally! You spoke in your mind and rushes up to her, your heels clicking. Sarina was alerted and look up from her book, her gaze was killing but when she knew it was you—it softens, this bitch doesn’t like to be interrupted when she’s reading. But if it’s you? She’ll make an exception.

“Forgot to do your assignment last night, or did laziness hit?” she asked, “can I say both?” you try to pretty blink your way out of that question, she rolled her eyes and place the bookmark in her book and snap it close. Hit you with the head slightly (since she’s reading a thick ass book in a hardbound cover.)

“That tactics doesn’t work on me, you know?” you sulk in defeat and nodded, “can you pleeeaaase give me a break down of chapter three and four?” you plead, sitting down and she follows. She cock a brow, “I’ll buy you books.” You try to bribe her, using her weakness and love for books—you know she couldn’t refuse for free stuff, right?

“deal.” She scoots over and starts to explain every possible detail of the chapter you’re struggling—not only you have a smart friend, you get a free tutor that you could only understand because the one most of your prof recommends are shit at explaining, couldn’t be at the same level of speech and understanding.

But Sarina? She adjust her speech and use examples that you could easily understand than speaking in riddles because she knew you’re that dumb, but you’re her little dumb, dumb.

Time check: 10:30 AM, that’s how fast and long how Sarina break down chapter three and four, you wonder why she hasn’t been taking advance lessons.

20 minutes and you took down notes from what Sarina said, you still have 20 more minutes to turn in your assignments. You look at Sarina with your pretty little eyes, “thank you, bestie.” You form your lips into a pout and hug her, “you are my savior.” You coo and pinch her cheeks gently, she cringe and hit you on the shoulder with her book, “stop doing that. And get to work.” She clicks her tongue and chuckle at you.

“Yes, ma’am!” you salute and stress on your assignment, muttering what Sarina said and looking back at your notes. Your posture is like a shrimp, Sarina wonder how you get so comfortable in that position—she remembers snapping at you because of your posture. You whine at her that day and sulk.

The girl watch you write down your answers, turn pages and look back and forth to your notes. She wonders why you act so differently towards her then you’re a strong fucking women towards other people, as if she had a little puppy—not a friend.

“Done!” you yelled, which got you harshly shush by the librarian, you bow to apologies and aggressive shake Sarina and chanting thank you and that she’s your savior.

“I promise to buy you books, you can get anything you want.” Those words were dangerous, you utter them to a literal book girlie. She’s going to empty your funding’s, so hope for the best.

Minutes later you came back and sat down next to her again, “turn it in?” she asked, “right on time.” You proudly said and lay your head over to her shoulder, clinging to her as if you’re a fucking koala.

“Jesus, you really need a fucking boyfriend. You cling like a lost koala.” Sarina said and try to get you off of her arm, which you wrap your hands around and refuse to let go.

“but I don’t have a boyfriend.” You try to sound sad to piss her off, “because you reject them, darling.” She rolls and gets back on reading. You let out a small boo-ho and still clings to her shoulder.

Prof was absent so you and your friend got some free time on the first period, silence was so loud that you began to get bored. Until she speaks, “by the way, have you seen the news?”

You cock your head, “hm?” you hum, “there’s been reports of women mysteriously disappearing then finding their location to another island.”

Interest sets in and you listens, loosening your grip from her arm, “heck, even the president’s daughter isn’t safe.”

“wait, wait. Hold your horses, even the president’s daughter?”

“Even. The presidents daughter.”

Jaw drop and crossing your legs, “tell me more.”

“apparently they sent their most best and dangerous agent.” Sarina said, giggling to herself and closing the book—oh wow, this motherfucker never closes her books before when she talks. Interesting.

“he got the presidents daughter safe and return home. Like, ack! He’s so dreamy, girl!”

You nod, so—the agent was a male. God you hate men, really. But hid an ick expression.

“his name is Leon Kennedy, by the way.” You see how your friend bit her lip and got back being all giggly to her book.

Leon Kennedy.

You heard the name before, you father said that if these kind of cases continue—he’ll have Leon Kennedy as your bodyguard, that’s right. Leon fucking Kennedy.

You hate how your father sees you as a meek and timid girl who can’t protect yourself, even your step-mom. Saying it’s for the better, my ass, you said in your mind and just zoned out.

Class ended at two sharp, your driver waiting for you as he greeted you with a smile and lifting his hat to add extra respect. You don’t know why father trained them like this but you don’t wanna ask either.

The whole ride, you talk with the driver for the first time—well, he asked you first. Asking how your day went by and setting the atmosphere something light and fun, he felt like a father to you for a moment, he advises like a dad and share his stories. He has a daughter too, he is a dad.

You almost let it slip, “you were the father I wanted.”

But he didn’t heard that and kept making still making bad dad jokes, it was so lame and bad that it made you laugh. You know one thing in mind, that your own father could not do this to you and with you.

Arriving home, several maids and butlers line up at the front door where you enter—greeting you in sync, their voices sounded like AI, “greetings and welcome back, young miss.” They said and you just stood there dumbfounded.

Still not used to this kind of treatment, “uhm, dismiss?” you said quietly, which all of them heard—they bow and left, completely dismissing them. As if they’re a trained slaves, you shudder at the feeling and something catches at the corner of your eyes, father was talking to someone.

Who is he?

He’s tall, broad shoulders, dirty blonde hair, blue iced eyes. He’s taller than your father, probably 5’11?

“Father.” You said, as much as you hate addressing him father, you just had to. “I’m home.”

“Ah! Lovely.” Father smiled, and gesture you to come closer. “dear, this man will be your bodyguard from now on.”

Huh.

Your mind absent and felt like time freezes, bodyguard?

“My name’s Leon. Leon Kennedy.”

No fucking way.

Next Chapter>>>

#leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon resident evil #resident evil leon #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #re4 leon #re4r leon #leon kennedy imagine #Golden Cage Blue Bonds Series #new series!!#writing my man frfr #bodyguard!Leon

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR SIX

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, mentions of harassment, minors dni

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 4.8k+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

6:00 ───ㅇ─────────────── 24:00

HOUR SIX - 9:00 PM

Eddie holds the front door to apartment 2C open for you, finally letting go of your hand for the first time since you’d plead with him to leave the drunken men at the bar. You can’t look him in the eyes, head tilted downwards as you brush past him and don’t even stop to overthink the smell of his cologne taking over you when your sore shoulder bumps his chest.

The adrenaline is wearing off. The fear is settling like a heavy knot in your abdomen.

It was a part of the experience of being a woman, they’d always told you. Men would gawk, boys would be boys, and it was always something you’re supposed to laugh off. You’ve felt wandering hands of strange men during night outs with your friends, you’d been on the receiving end of one too many attempts at flattery that crossed a line. You’d never done anything about them; you were always taught to smile and move past it. Don’t engage them. Don’t give them reason to lash out.

And the men you had chosen to trust and surround yourself also did nothing.

You don’t blame them. Steve, a brilliant example, was usually oblivious. But he did what he could, throwing a casual arm over your shoulder and somehow blinding these men with charisma and charm as he subtly would pull you away from them in the midst of lighthearted laughter.

Eddie is the first man in your life to have ever defended you so vehemently. He’s the first to not smile and nod it off, to not reduce himself to a simple bystander. Not only did he do something about it, but he had lashed out as you normally craved to.

If you hadn’t interfered, he would have punched the guy, Jason. You’re sure of it.

He’s still angry, footsteps heavy as he yanks off his jacket once the front door is locked, and you can’t quite decipher if his irritation is at you or the situation. If he’s still fuming about the fight, or if he’s still not quite cooled off from the entire interaction that had taken place outside.

When he gently grazes at your throbbing shoulder, fingertips hovering over your skin as he pushes the collar of your shirt out of his line of sight to see the handprint, you start to find your answer - it’s the latter.

“C’mere,” he murmurs gently, walking towards the kitchen and grabbing a stool from his breakfast bar to drag behind him. He settles it near the counter across from his fridge, flicking on the fluorescent overhead lights of his kitchen.

When he nods to the stool, you sit wordlessly.

You’re shaking, still trying to let your brain catch up as you grapple with what exactly happened.

Jason had grabbed you, roughly. He’d been trying to get you to go home with him. He was drunk. He had just been resorting to his instincts, he was just a boy being a boy.

Eddie’s actions are beginning to soften now that he stands before you. You can see him flexing his hand that had held yours, tightening it before stretching it back out. He does it a few times. Tightening and stretching, tightening and stretching. You don’t comment on it.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” his brown eyes are staring into yours as he asks you, full of something resembling care, cautious as he gages you.

The simple act of him asking for permission cracks something in your chest. It’s not a bone, it’s not a shard of glass, it’s not a vine of hope.

But it’s something, and certainly not something bad, so you nod.

When he pulls on your shirt this time, he allows his skin to come in contact with yours. You feel the chill of his rings sweep over your hot shoulder, and your eyes flutter shut in an effort to ignore the electricity that begins to pulsate down your spine. It shocks from the base of your neck into your lower back, leaving a trail of rippling tingles in its wake.

Had his palm against yours elicited this same reaction? Had he felt this when your hand clutched his bicep?

You remember the last time you were in this kitchen, the way the two of you had been fighting and that aching to see him bleed as you once did. The ache is long gone.

Because all it takes is one look at his face when you finally find the bravery to open your eyes again, and you can see his scarlet written plainly in his expression. You’ve been bruised, but he’s been pricked. Your hurt and his hurt are one in the same in this moment as he takes in the shape of a handprint, plain as day, red and angry despite the layer of clothing that had attempted to separate you from the drunken stranger.

“I should go back down there and kill him,” he says under his breath, his eyes never leaving your shoulder.

“No,” you whisper with a small shake of your head, “You shouldn’t.”

The sound of your voice has his head snapping up, eyes locking with yours once more. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t.”

Because he’s not worth it, because he was nothing more than a drunk boy. Because if you go down there, I’m scared you’ll get hurt.

You don’t say a single thought that comes to mind, especially the last one. You just shrug.

“I should have punched the fucker when I had the chance,” he grits out, his eyes landing back on the soon-to-be bruise, “I should have knocked his teeth out for laying his hands on you. If I ever see him again, he’s a dead-man walking.”

You can see his anger building once more with every shaky breath, eyes glazing over and shoulders tensing. You don’t even think before you’re bringing a shaking hand back up to his shoulder, landing without much hesitancy, delicate in its weight against him.

He glances down at it in shock. It’s as if he didn’t expect your touch, or maybe he does feel those same shockwaves set his system off balance from something as simple as your hand on him. Either way, you don’t see his shiver as he brings his free hand to cup over yours.

“Just one reason,” he presses, palm impossibly warm against the back of your hand, tone finally wavering, “For or against me going back out there. Say the word, and I’ll put him six feet under.”

“Don’t,” you’re insisting now, and when you squeeze his shoulder, he returns it against your hand, “He’s just some guy. He was drunk, and he probably didn’t know any be-”

“If you say he didn’t know any better, I might actually get mad at you.”

Eddie’s a man. He hasn’t learned the art of letting go like you have. He has the privilege of being angry like this right now.

You don’t respond, and he sighs, taking a step back as your hand falls back to your lap, “You should ice that. I’ll grab an ice pack.”

You watch his tense back as he turns to his freezer, the way his shoulder blades flex against his t-shirt as he digs for the promised ice pack. It's a wide, unfamiliar terrain, an expanse that you can picture yourself running the very tips of your fingers over.

In a moment of weakness, you imagine what’s beneath the shirt. You imagine your fingertips tracing over bare skin and freckles, possible scars that have stories for another night.

As quickly as you think it, you push the image away.

Once he brings the ice pack to you, wrapped in a paper towel, he’s moving back across the kitchen and leaning on the counter opposite of you beside the fridge. He crosses his arms and legs alike, simply staring as you press the cool material onto the injured space.

“Why are you defending him?” Eddie asks suddenly, brows furrowing, “He… He was an asshole. There was no excuse for how he was treating you, someone he doesn’t know. Why didn’t you just tell him no?”

“Easier said than done,” you hum as you focus on treating your shoulder rather than looking at Eddie again. You’re coming to learn that looking at him is a dangerous game, always risking to find another feature of his to learn.

Dimples, cologne, shoulder blades - if the list grows too long, it’ll only be harder to discard the new information after tonight.

“You’ve never had a problem saying no to me,” he points out with a cock of his eyebrow. You’re grateful that his tension is lightening up, falling back into an easy rhythm between the two of you rather than being furious.

But you can’t stop thinking of that scarlet across his face. A red to match the own beneath your skin. And you didn’t even have to crack open his chest to see it - it was presented to you in a moment of weakness, a moment of grudges forgotten and protectiveness fierce.

You step out on a limb once more with Eddie. Something tells you that you won’t regret it.

“Because you don’t scare me.”

Five simple words, but their weight is not lost on him. His face falls, and before you can mentally prepare yourself, you’re looking into his honey brown eyes.

They’re doe-like. They aren’t hard like Jason’s had been, full of whiskey and righteousness, but sincerity. Your words affect him.

And so you continue on, “If I say no to you, I’m not scared you’ll lash out. Not physically, at least. You’ve been mean to me, don’t get me wrong, but… but no meaner than I’ve been to you,” you take pause, you let your words settle onto his shoulders as your hand had, “You’re a lot of things, Eddie, but you’re not one of the guys who hears convince me when I tell you no.”

“Because no means no,” he quickly says, tilting his head, “You shouldn’t take that shit from anyone.”

He pushes off the counter, still looking at you as he crosses the space he’d placed between you two.

You could freeze up, but you don’t. You’re not scared of him. You never have been, and you don’t think you ever will be.

“If a man ever acts otherwise,” he continues, “If a man ever lays his hands on you, if he ever does take it as convince me, you call me. You call me, and I’ll show him just what convincing means.”

He’s standing in front of you now, and you hadn’t even noticed your knees spreading, leaving a space between your thighs for him to easily occupy. He stops short of it though, not pressing into your space, not yet.

“Is this that scary dog privilege Nancy is always going on about?” the corners of your mouth quirk, looking up at Eddie through heavier lids.

The fear is gone. And all that’s replaced is exhaustion. It tugs on your limbs and mind alike, catching right up with the alcohol from the night.

“Scary dog privilege?” he echos, starting to grin as well. He takes another step forward, and the spice of his cologne is back.

It’s stronger here, outside of the bar and in his own space.

“She’s always saying we should invite you out to bars and stuff,” you explain, smile splitting wider, “Says guys would bother us less with you around.”

His smile falls, and he grows serious again, “Do guys bother you a lot?”

“It’s the bars in a college town, it’s norm-”

“Jesus Christ,” he interrupts, “Okay, yeah. From now on, tell Nance to invite me,” he groans running a hand over his face, “I can’t believe you’re trying to tell me that shit is normal. What the fuck is wrong with you guys?”

“It’s not always so scary,” you try to convince him through feeble laughter, “Most nights don’t end in bruised shoulders, you know. It’s just… I don’t know. It is normal.”

“Fuck that.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “Fuck that, but that’s just the way it is.”

He isn’t convinced, it’s written all over his face. His head is tilting again, and he’s looking with those warm brown doe eyes, and you know he isn’t convinced.

There’s a tension in the air that you can’t handle. You have to break it.

“What if I don’t want you to join girls’ night?” you ask him, keeping a teasing tone.

“Too fuckin’ bad.”

“Maybe I don’t want to utilize your scary dog privilege.”

He takes a final step, and now, he is standing in the space your thighs had allotted for him, “Sweetheart, let me make myself very clear. It doesn’t matter how pissed you make me, how crazy you drive me. I don’t care if we’re being civil or not, if you’re my…. My enemy or whatever the fuck you think I should call you – I meant it. If a guy like that asshole tonight ever bothers you, I’m kicking his ass.”

You know he means it. For the same reason that you know that you’re not scared of him.

He’s infuriating. He gets under your nerves and he will argue with you at every chance he gets, and yet, Eddie Munson carries an air of safety. It’s never been clearer to you than now, after spending so many hours with him, after seeing so many different sides to him that you hadn’t been privy to before.

“What if it’s not me? Guys flirt with Nancy too, you know.”

“Byers can handle his own, and so can Nance.”

“And Robin?”

“I’ve seen her slap Steve on a dare. I have faith in her.”

“You don’t have faith in me?”

His eyes widen at your question, nearly at a loss for words, “I-I didn’t… I didn’t mean… It’s not that.”

“Then why does your protection only extend to me?”

Your knees fall closed the slightest amount, and they bump his hips. He doesn’t move - he doesn’t so much as flinch.

“Fine. If you don’t like it, I can also protect Nance and Buckley.”

“I never said I don’t like it,” you breathlessly correct.

You’re going too far. You don’t understand how the two of you ended up here; the shards of civility still linger in your chest and gut, but they might as well have vanished. It’s easy to forget about his cruel words when he’s this close, when he’s making promises like that.

Cruel words. The two of you need to discuss earlier. You need to know why he said what he did. Because now he stands before you with promises of protection and molten eyes, and you no longer believe him.

If he truly hated you, if he truly believed the answer he’d given you, he wouldn’t be saying these things. He wouldn’t care this much.

“Can we talk about what you said?” you whisper, and like that, the moment shatters. Once soft eyes turn hard, and he takes several steps back until your knees’ feather light touch disconnects from him.

“There’s nothing else to say,” you’re surprised he doesn’t play dumb. He knows you’re talking about him hating you.

“Nothing else to say?” you scoff, trying to bite back any of your own cruelty, “Eddie, you said you hated me before you even met me.”

“I know what I said-”

“And I don’t believe a damn word you said now. So, why the cop out answer?”

His eyes narrow, “You obviously believed me, or you wouldn’t have stormed off.”

You swallow hard, nodding, thinking over your next words carefully, “Because it hurt. Because it felt like we were… we were making some sort of progress, and all of a sudden, you’re telling me I never stood a chance at being your friend.”

“You asked me, and I was honest.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“How would you know if I was being honest or not?”

The back and forth is suddenly making you want to scream. Because you know - you know he was lying, or he wouldn’t be so suddenly defensive.

“Why can’t you admit it?” you finally break, sighing hard as you look at him, shaking your head softly, “Why can’t you just admit it was a cop out answer, and tell me the truth?”

The ice pack that had been reduced to being long forgotten slips from your shoulder, landing on the floor with a riveting smack. Eddie is quick to bend over and grab it, as if he was fleeing your stern look before he stands up straight, hand stuck out in your direction with the offering of the pack.

“Just because it wasn’t what you wanted to hear doesn’t mean I was lying,” he says, waiting for you to take the ice pack.

You take the pack roughly, and your fingers make contact with his palm. The same palm that had pressed to yours, the same palm that had guided you down the dark street and kept you close until you were back in his apartment.

You know he was lying.

“It’s not a matter of it not being the answer I wanted,” you snap, temper growing thin, “It’s a matter of you lying to me, and I don’t understand why. It’s a matter of you saying shit about how you’d protect me, no matter the circumstances, and yet also saying shit like that. It doesn’t fucking add up, and it doesn’t take a genius to see through your bullshit.”

“I didn’t lie.”

“You did.”

You’re back to square one – just like that. Two stubborn idiots, both two headstrong to back down.

You’re tired. You’re exhausted of this, of one step forward and three steps back. It was never a dance you were fond of, and your desire for it doesn’t suddenly grow as you sit here in Eddie’s kitchen, arguing and pushing his buttons for answers.

“What do you want me to say?” he bites, honey eyes now a dark and stormy shade with the clouds hanging over them heavily, “Do you want me to say there was just some magical moment it clicked? That there’s something you can fix, you can change, to make me not hate you?”

“Yes!” you finally shout, throwing your hands up, still clutching that damn ice pack, “Yes, I actually do want you to say that. What is so wrong with us being friends? What is so wrong with us, at the very least, not being enemies?”

“Everything!” his volume raises right along with yours, “Everything is wrong with that?”

“Why? Tell me what’s so fucking wrong with it, and I’ll let it go. Hell, I’ll leave you alone the rest of this night, the rest of your life, if it means you being honest for once.”

“When else have I lied to you?” he seethes, and you immediately miss the moment his anger wasn’t directed at you. You miss when the two of you toed the line of being on each other’s side and not opposing forces. For a brief moment of false serendipity, it hadn’t been you versus Eddie, and it killed you to admit that it had been nice.

It kills you to admit you want that, not whatever this is. You don’t want to scream at each other anymore. After tonight, you’re done. You don’t want this back and forth, you don’t want the constant bickering, you don’t want to play this game anymore. The dance is over for you. Really, it should have ended in Steve Harrington’s apartment, the night you’d thrown a glass at Eddie. The night you decided you actually hated him, not for the sake of hating him because he hated you, but because he had truly cut you.

“If you’re lying about why you hate me, how am I supposed to believe a word you say to me tonight?” you finally ask in a quiet, even, resentful tone.

If he can’t tell you the truth about this, then his words mean nothing to you. All the talk of protection, all the promise of defending you, means nothing.

The crack in your chest this time is not pleasant.

“Ask me anything. Ask me, and I’ll be honest,” he suddenly demands.

Even in his anger with you, he doesn’t crowd you. There are still boundaries.

I’m not scared of you.

Even now, as he glares down at you, you’re not. Eddie Munson doesn’t scare you, but the pounding of your heart, how badly you need to hear him tell you the truth, does.

You could ask him the same question from the bar: Why do you hate me?

You could get your answer of crystal clear honesty right here, right now. You could ask him what you ever did to get under his nerves like this. You could ask him why he’d been kind at all the first night if all he ever planned to do was throw brutal punch after metaphorical punch for the rest of your relationship. You could ask him anything, and he would answer you honestly at this moment.

So, of course, you fuck it all up.

“Yeah? Okay, fine. Let’s start with why you have porn magazines with marked pages of models that look like me.”

Wrong question. The moment for honesty slips from your grasps.

He laughs bitterly, throwing his head back as he finally turns from you, “Fuck you. Truly, fuck you.”

He starts to walk away, and you discard the ice pack onto the counter before standing from the stool and following him, “You said ask you anything, and you’d answer honestly. I want an honest answer.”

He stops suddenly and turns to face you, making you nearly collide with his chest. There are no hesitant hands to land on your bicep, not outreach from him to steady you. All he does is stare, hard and hateful, as his chest heaves.

“It’s all a fucking game to you, isn’t it? This entire thing is just one giant joke. I try to give you what you want, I try to offer honesty, and you throw it in my face.”

“It’s not,” you correct with venom, “I want the answer to that question. You owe me that much. After everything you’ve said tonight, about hating me before we met, about celebrating my death, I think I’ve earned that answer.”

There’s a flash in his eyes. For a moment, the hatefulness breaks, and you see Eddie for who he is – a guy who can’t say what he means. Maybe his dishonesty isn’t from a place of getting under your nerves, but because he can’t even be honest with himself. A part of you must have known it, must have known you wouldn’t be getting any honesty from him, and that’s why you went with that question. You couldn’t handle another lie or excuse as to why things had to go as they did.

“Sweetheart, I think we both know why.”

Honesty is a bitch. Hand in hand with karma, you realize now, it is capable of stunning you into silence.

What the fuck does that mean?

“I obviously don’t,” you wave your hands between the two of you animatedly, growing frustrated, “If I knew the answer to any of the questions I have for you, this argument wouldn’t be happening.”

A chuckle of disbelief. A streak of crimson that bleeds from your wounds of civility.

You see it clearly now; even if Eddie has let you believe he also bleeds, the two of you will never share the same shade of scarlet. Your hurt and his hurt do not go hand in hand. It never has, and it never will. The two of you are not stars that align once every hundred years, you are not a rare phenomenon to witness.

You’re two people who hate each other. Who hate without reason, apparently.

“Fine,” you gasp out, now being the one to take steps back, “Fine. You don’t like that question, Munson? I have hundreds more. Why do you hate me? If what you said wasn’t a lie, why were you ever nice to me when we first met? Why would you give me that false hope? Why do you pull stunts like that in the kitchen, promising things you can’t do? Why do you seem to enjoy hurting me?”

Like a tired candle, his anger immediately flickers out.

It’s not from the breath he lets out, it’s from your gust of your own honesty.

Why would you give me that false hope?

Now that you’ve broken the dam, it’s flooding out. There will be no answers, so you don’t worry about what spills from your mouth now. He’s made it clear that honesty is an illusion, just like civility, and you’ll always have to watch it slip between your fingers. The buds of hopefulness on your vine will never be nurtured to bloom, and are doomed to wither before they reach potential.

“Why were you so cruel that night at Steve’s?” your voice breaks, “Why did you say those things you said that night? Why do you avoid me? Why can’t you stand me? I’m tired of it, Eddie. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“I…” the syllable is the only noise he makes. The rest of his sentence dies on his tongue.

The air of safety has left the room. There’s no safety, no friendliness, in the air you two share. Suddenly, you’re back to six months earlier, standing and looking at him with wide eyes as shattered glass crunches beneath both your feet, nothing but hurt to take the place of what once was wrath. It’s just you and him, bystanders forgotten, moments of hope bursting into flames as they eat away at your stomach and heart alike.

“This is why,” he whispers, no longer meeting your heavy gaze.

“What?” you snap, “This is why, what?”

“Why we can’t be friends.”

You know what the cracks in your chest are now. Vines, decaying and breaking of fragility until they’re nothing more than dust.

“You’re right, we can’t be friends,” you choke out, trying to not cough on the vines’ dust, “Because you can’t be honest with me. Honesty was never an option, was it?”

“It wasn’t,” he looks impossibly small. It’s no longer a fair fight with his sagging shoulders and shining eyes, “How can I give you honesty when all I’ve ever done is hurt you?” he pauses for only a moment, before he’s starting back up, whispering your name before continuing on, “All I’ve ever done is hurt you. I have only given you reason after reason to hate me. And you just- you kept giving me a million second chances. You want honesty? Fine – I don’t deserve your second chances.”

“No, you don’t,” you say before you can think it over, before a small voice in your brain can say but I will still give them, “But is it really a second chance if you never let me give the first chance to begin with?”

Your words have a certain finality to them that you immediately wish to take back. You want to grab the words from the air between you and tuck them back into your chest, hide them away from him. Because you’re admitting to him once more that you always wanted something more than this, something better than this with him. You wanted friendship. You wanted civility. You wanted him to like you, to laugh with you like he had that first night, even if it had only been once. Part of you even wanted to go back in time and take back ever joining his friend group, invading his life, so you never would have had to endure that sudden departure into cold shoulders that eventually transformed into brutal words and harsh insults.

You should have never taken that 8 AM math class. You should have never let hope flower in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” is all he can say, “I regret it.”

You don’t know what exactly he regrets, don’t ask him for any more honesty, as he turns heel and walks down the hall. He walks away from you, into his room, shutting the door. Both on you and the conversation.

And yet, you still follow him down the hall. You still press your back to the wall across from the door, and you still slide down onto the floor across the room he’s now locked himself away from you into. You could leave. You could tell your friends that the deal is off. But you don’t.

You sit and you wait and you let your own sentiment of regret rest on your tongue.

You regret it, too. You regret everything that led to this moment. You regret whatever you did to Eddie Munson to make him hate your guts.

But mostly, you just regret pushing him so far. Somehow, you still let the blame fall on yourself as you stare at the closed door, wondering what could have been if you just stopped asking questions you couldn’t handle the answers to.

When the groupchat texts you for the photo proof of the hour, you don’t reply. Instead, you click onto your individual text thread with Steve, and type your answer there.

YOU: i fucked up.

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#twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #oof

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koiiiiijiii · 2 months

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finishing ur requests? uum no. another idea nobody asked about? yes pls💯💯

wooin x sis!reader (platonic)

author’s note : after last chapter i had this headcanon in my head. i suspect that wooin grew up in toxic household where his parents make him study, locking him up in his room, but boy probably was dreaming about just be free, and once left home. i also suspect his family probably has the same wealth as minu, but his parents way more toxic and controlling. but when he left home he left his part there, the part of his soul.

honesty 1000% in love how some ppl just ignored my closed inbox and keep sent requests🤣🤍🫵🏻 seriously guys, the best!! i will answer all requests, almost all is in process(i mean at least 20-40% already done) but now enjoying my time at home😌💌🔒

warnings : no(?) lil fluff, lil angst, nothing hardcore, prob grammar mistakes(not proofed as all my writings)

༘⋆ wooin is older sibling 100%

༘⋆ when his parents told him he will have a sister, when he was 3 or 4 he was jealous, and whole 9 months he waited for someone who will ruin his life

༘⋆ but instead, when your father brought you and your mum to home from hospital, wooin was confused

༘⋆ he only saw a small girl, no one who could harm him in any way

༘⋆ your first ever smile was for him, or because of him by the way!! and he blushed so so much when your small hand clung to his index finger

༘⋆ so he built a soft spot for you in his heart in two years, because first years you’ve been crying, screaming and sobbing mess, well like all toddlers, while wooin was saying that he was too old to babysit you (bro was like 5-6 years old and crying himself to sleep bc didn’t understand how 10*10 equals 100 and 11*11 didn’t equal 111)

༘⋆ btw you were always silent when he was babysitting you. he chuckled each time when you looked at him with wide open eyes

༘⋆ through his childhood your parents were extremely strict with him, so he partly grateful to you for the fact that you took some attention on yourself and gave him the opportunity to be free from his studies and lectures from your parents for a while

༘⋆ but each year atmosphere in your home becomes more toxic, and when you grow up a little you could remember how wooin was locked in his room to study better, because he didn’t have acceptable marks

༘⋆ but you would always sneak in his room late at night, with your saved from the morning sweets and share some with him

༘⋆ you both favorite was lollipops with lemon favors tho!!

༘⋆ when you were about 13 years old, wooin left the house, he was 17

༘⋆ no need to say that your parents were furious. especially your father. in korea it’s common that son is inherits family business or work, so it’s always been a big scandal over his marks, behavior and look

༘⋆ so when he left, for you it meant that all the attention and rigor of your parents were transferred to you

༘⋆ atter the first couple of months of your brother's absence, he found the strength to meet with you

༘⋆ wooin knew perfectly that parents rage will reflect on you, and honestly he were scared - that you will hate him

༘⋆ when he met you near your school, he froze for few seconds and then hugged you so tight that you thought he was about to break your ribs (you returned him that favor)

༘⋆ you two always were close, wooin was your freshness in a house full of stuffy, stagnant air, while you was his little sunshine of hope and happiness in his dark, locked room

༘⋆ you didn’t have a lot of time after your school, so you just hugged tightly and exchanged phone numbers, so you could stay in touch

༘⋆ few days after you find the way to sneak out of the house to meet with your brother you spend few hours on a bench talking and listening to each other

༘⋆ - how are the relatives? on a scale of one to fucked up, how angry were they?

- fucked up in a cube, you know our dad, he wasn't just furious, from the screams from their room, i think he literally lost his temper

༘⋆ wooin just chuckled sadly and rubbed his neck with the palm of his hand

༘⋆ as the years passed, your nightly meetings continued. sometimes he would catch you after school or another after-school club where your parents had put you

༘⋆ wooin offered you to run away to him several times. by your senior year in school, he was self-supporting, and he even had some white-haired giant working for him, constantly pining after him

༘⋆ somehow you refused, deciding to finish school first and then he promised to help you with either work or university, depends on what you will choose

༘⋆ yes, guys from sabbath know you

༘⋆ yes, heyok once caught you two hugging

*wooin pressed his lips on top of your head, tightly shutting his eyes, frowning a little, he didn’t know when he will see you again, because he knew, in exam session parents won’t let you have a free second*

༘⋆ in first place heyok though you two dating, but then joker explained him how things actually going(my headcanon that they gossip girls, frfr)

༘⋆ since you hanged out with wooin you caught your brother’s manners of jokes

༘⋆ “hey, big bro, does that new red haired guy in your team have a girlfri..”

“don’t you even dare to finish this sentence” he exclaimed indignantly. no way his precious little sis will deal with that motherfucker.

#[ ~ koi.talks🗣]#x reader #windbreaker #windbreaker webtoon #windbreaker x reader #headcanon #webtoon #windbreaker headcanon #wooin #wooin x reader #wooin windbreaker #sabbath crew #wooin sabbath #imagine #joker windbreaker #sabbath windbreaker

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magnetothemagnificent · 8 months

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My full thoughts on 'You Are So Not Invited To My Bat Mitzvah':

So first off, going into it, I didn't think I would like it. I don't really watch the tween-angst genre of movies, and the promotional material for the movie made it look like it was just gonna be a movie about Jews having an extravagant and expensive party, which is obviously problematic.

But the movie.....it blew me away. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Things I loved:

-The typical Jewish stereotypes you see in every movie about Jews weren't present. I really expected Adam Sandler's character to be another nebbish pushover Jewish dad stereotype, but he wasn't. He was goofy and soft but also he was strong and passionate about Judaism and his family. When he got really, truly angry at Stacy, I almost cheered. Of course all the characters in the movie are on the upper middle class end, but upon reflection, that's just the genre of movies. There's a genre of tween and teen movies about extravagant birthday parties where the characters live in a world free from poverty, and well, it's nice to have a movie in that genre for ourselves. It's escapism.

-The characters all loved Judaism and being Jewish. Jewish religious practice and belief wasn't treated as a joke or an afterthought. The kids would actually look forward to Hebrew school, and Hebrew school wasn't depicted as boring and stuffy. The religious aspect of a Bat Mitzvah was front and center- it drove the whole story, from Stacy practicing her Maftir (not "Haftarah" as the movie got wrong) as she comes up with her worst mistake, to Stacy working on her Mitzvah project.

-Because the majority of the story occured at the characters' homes and in Hebrew School and Temple, antisemitism wasn't a player in the story, and I liked that. We have so many movies about Jewish pain and suffering, and it's nice to have a light-hearted movie. It doesn't pretend antisemitism doesn't exist, but it's just not relevant to the story.

-Even though it was a movie about a tween girl and all her struggles and insecurities, she was never once insecure about her Jewish features. They could have very easily slipped into the old "Jewish girl hates her nose" but it didn't. And I hope that if Sunny Sandler gets serious about acting as she grows up, she won't feel pressured to get a nose job like so many other Jewish young women do.

-It doesn't pander to goyim and take time to explain every single Jewish word and reference like Hallmark Hanukkah specials do. It's a movie made by Jews for Jews, and it doesn't edit itself to be more palatable to goyim. And I loved that.

Some critiques:

-My biggest criticism is the portrayal of Jewish tween boys. I get that the movie is from Stacy's POV, so as a tween girl she might see all boys her age as gross and as assholes, but I find it problematic that all the Jewish boys were depicted as nasty, while the only boy depicted as nice and polite was not Jewish. I think it plays into stereotypes of Jewish boys and sends a harmful message.

-I loved Rabbi Rebecca, but I think that at times her character went from endearingly awkward to just gross and inappropriate, such as when she talked about her yeast infection in front of her students. I think just a bit of editorial tweaking would have been beneficial for her character.

Overall rating: 9/10, would definitely recommend it to my Jewish friends. Goyim, you might enjoy it, but it really isn't made for you so you might be lost at times. Just accept you're not the target audience.

#jumblr #you are so not invited to my bat mitzvah #movie review #movie recommendation #jewish movie #my thoughts

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queers-gambit · 2 years

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When Eddie Munson is Mad or Frustrated HCs

prompt: headcanons about Eddie being mad / frustrated with reader.

pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

warnings: cursing, is this angst i don't even know, uh, talk of anxiety, anger, uh, maybe 'physical anger' but i promise it's like one sentence? once again, please proceed at your own risk!

• Eddie's super easy-going, so he's next to never frustrated or angry with you. doesn't mean it doesn't happen, okay?

• he's the type to always use a slew of pet names, so the moment you hear your government name come from his lips, your stomach drops a little. truth is, you hate hearing your full name from him.

• he doesn't like that your eyes will go wide and your eyebrows will soften a little - he knows you're his sweetheart, and he never calls you your name. it tastes weird on his tongue but he stands firm. he needs you to know he's seriously upset.

• because, again, he's next to never mad at you - so, when he is, oh, he's big mad! and he gets this stony look on his face that makes your stomach knot together.

• he snaps a lot when he's mad. maybe uses a tone that he only uses for bullies, or when he's defending himself against his Uncle.

• Eddie gets lost in his thoughts so he glowers a lot.

• sometimes it comes off as a glare, yikes.

• all depends on what you're fighting about but it can last for a span of 6 hours, or 6 fucking days. all depends on how angry either of you are.

• look, it could be anything he's mad about, but 9 times out of 10, it's over something that can be solved. he needs to have a reaction first.

• most of his frustration and anger comes from being overwhelmed, so, the boy just needs to feel his feelings.

• depending on the fight, he uses sarcasm a lot. okay - it's a defense mechanism, he can't really help it in some cases. what's the opposite of 'cat's got your tongue?' because if Eddie's frustrated enough, he won't shut up when antagonizing or instigating you.

• ah, maybe because of his home life, he might use guilt a lot. he doesn't always realize he's doing it, he's just repeating what he's hearing you say and it's totally warped in a way.

• "oh, I get it! so, you're saying you don't love me?"

• "Eddie, I said I was feeling frustrated by how often we fight about Jason's stupid-ass! And that you need to let this shit go!"

• truth was, he knows you're Jason's math-appointed tutor but it doesn't mean he likes it!

• being said, neither of you listen to rumors of the high school hallways because they were often altered from their actual happening. so, you're both pretty good at confronting rumors.

• doesn't mean you're both totally immune, but Eddie's not the type to listen to a bunch of shitheads over you. so, if he hears something that concerns him, he'll ask you about it - and vice versa.

• doesn't mean he's always mature about confronting you but he's getting better at that!

( • you're almost at the point where you can share a joint on a Friday night and talk about the shit-rumors you both heard at some point during school. almost... )

• all that to say, if Eddie's mad, it's for a good reason because he doesn't concern himself with bullshit. and he's normally not very reactive in his anger, so, he'll silently stew in it but that usually just festers his irritation.

• Eddie gives the cold shoulder.

• he won't throw his arm around you or hold your hand. hey, that's saying a lot for two people who almost rely on physically touching one another when in proximity!

• but he'll still take your book bag and / or binders into his hands before taking you home. even when angry, he's still a gentleman and won't go back on his promise to make sure you get home safely. he'll just take your things into his own possession on your way out of school, or practice, and mutter to get in his van before totally ignoring you otherwise. dickhead.

• Eddie has a hard time with words. so, when he takes you home, he doesn't say a single thing, right? he won't reach for your thigh or your hand, he'll crank the radio and fulfill his boyfriendly duty by escorting you home after a long day of education.

• and when he's mad, he'll torture both of you. there's no touching, there's no conversation, he won't budge when you beg him to talk to you. he won't call you to invite you over for a midnight visit, he won't sneak over and let himself in through your attic's faulty window. we're talking radio silence.

• it drives you slightly insane.

• and Eddie's a fucking professional at it: giving the cold shoulder, going radio silent, allowing himself to get stuck in his head because he's trying to decide on the right words.

• he won't kiss you properly, either (another way he tortures you both). when he's mad, he's quiet but when he takes you home, he might peck your lips when he says goodbye. maybe he'll just peck your cheek, or just let you kiss him.

• he doesn't allow himself be romanced into your kisses because he has reason to be angry, damn it! so he mostly avoids kissing you because you've been known to start kissing him as a distraction. when angry, Eddie avoids your lips.

• there's lots of nonverbal communication. he'll grunt, nod his head, anything that makes you think he's not fully listening. he knows that drives you a little crazy, so, he'll keep at it.

• you're typically the one who picks 'the fight'. he's content being silent (despite dying on the inside because holy fuck does he wanna hold your hand) and pretending "nothing's wrong" because he just doesn't want to fight.

• i know, i know - huh? well, he's mad for a good reason but he really doesn't want to fight. he's a sensitive boy, and confrontation potentially triggers him. you're his everything so even though he's mad, he really doesn't want the fight that comes with it.

• but the sweet boy isn't all fluff -

• when he's really mad, oh, he's picking the fight. the claws are out and he's definitely instigating you.

• he's not the type to bring up past events but he has been known to weaponize your words against you. yikes, again!

• however, when he does this, it usually leads to a much bigger fight about his habit of doing that - so, he tries not to. he's a stubborn dickhead but he doesn't want to actively hurt you, so, he makes a conscious effort to work out of this habit.

• because it makes you feel like you can't say anything without it later being turned against you - and Eddie's favorite thing in the fucking world is talking to you, so, lesson learned!

moving along -

• Eddie's passive aggressive. making comments about whatever he's mad about and hoping you fill in the blanks. it gets really annoying when he doesn't just outright tell you what's wrong, but he feels in the right for being upset so he's not very forthcoming with information.

• he avoids you, maybe he avoids your usual routines.

• for example, Eddie usually always walked you from your math class to the cafeteria but when he's mad, dude's nowhere to be found.

• does he want to be mad? nope. but he doesn't often know what to do with his emotions so if something's wrong, again, he needs to have some kind of reaction.

• again, Eddie is always writing you letters! so, it's common for him to paperclip together a few sheets of scribbled notes because he knows you'll read it and follow along. his brain just works a mile a minute and he tries to jot down everything he can.

• these papers usually highlight the actual issue, and then you can see the train of thought he was on that lead to a bigger issue.

• you keep these letters, too.

• neither of you like arguing so tension doesn't last.

• you consider him your best friend; he considers you his best friend. so, neither of you really worry about how angry you get because it's known you both want to work it out.

• you might be one of the few people that's seen him actually upset. and it stings when you know you're the cause of it.

• Eddie's stubborn in a fight. he'll try to keep hacking at the problem at hand despite your reasoning / explanation for everything. he wants you to understand that he was genuinely upset by something, so he'll keep picking at the scab until it bleeds again.

• however, once the fight is over - it's over! no grudges, no passive comments after that from either of you.

• you have a rule that the fight lasts as long as it needs to last before it's solved - but you don't go back to it. when the fight is over, you both are almost desperate to move on, so it becomes a thing of the past.

• he might bring up a few points later, but he's asking, "what did you mean by that?" because the sweet boy is just trying to understand in full what happened, how it happened, and how to avoid it in the future.

• every fight instills a new lesson of communication for you both.

• this isn't to say Ed doesn't get, like, really angry sometimes.

• typically, it's not something you've done but you might be the final straw that breaks his camel's back. and he explodes. he doesn't yell often but when things over boil for him, he's loud. very loud.

• face gets red, hands gesturing wildly, stressfully pulls at his hair, he paces a lot.

• he might toss a few things out of anger, too. he tries not to when in your presence because he doesn't want to subject you to that, but it's happened a few times.

• never, ever does he throw shit at you, but there's been a hairbrush lobbed across the room before as he's pacing and ranting out of anger.

• the impact is nowhere near you, so, you don't react to the physical anger. you've only seen it first hand a few times, and you know it's not being directed at you.

• but you're his sweetheart and do whatever you can to help.

• your job in those moments are to be on his side and help him navigate his emotions. it's a lot for our boy, he needs a little help.

• he's intense when frustrated or angry.

• ah, you know what, if Eddie's angry, it's probably best not to touch him. he's anxious and when his emotions are overwhelming him like that, sometimes, if you touch him at the wrong time, it can feel very uncomfortable for him.

• being said! after the initial outburst of energy, there's usually a sign that he's okay to be touched again. he might tell you verbally and wave you into his chest; other times, it's when his shoulders deflate, eyes leave your face as they swell with tears, and his fingers will tremble a little. usually, that can mean the adrenaline's leaving his system and it's okay to touch him now.

• and after feeling so angry, he could usually use some comfort.

• Eddie feels guilty after every fight and that's where the mixtapes are coming in. he's afraid you're now mad at him for being mad and basically ignoring you, so, he leaves the mixtapes in your mailbox.

• despite whatever anger shown to you, when it's over and he's feeling guilty, he really doesn't do confrontation. he's been vulnerable enough, so, he's trying to edge his way back into you.

• again, you listen to the mixtapes all night and talk to him the next day about whatever's happened. but you're soft about it and just try to cover all bases so that you both learn a lesson from whatever fight just ended.

• you've discovered that Eddie communicates through music sometimes, so, you try to relate the fight to the mixtape. he might not say it but his heart swells in his chest when you do that; it's like you're trying to speak his language.

• but you speak fluent Eddie.

• when you see him after the mixtape and get him talking, he can't shut up. Eddie just word vomits everything on his mind and it's up to you to sit quietly and just listen. you'll take mental notes about somethings he says - but you have to interrupt him when it becomes a little self-deprecating.

• the boy is insecure and often feels like he doesn't deserve you. so after particularly bad fights, he'll get it in his head that it's too much for you, you don't deserve this, and maybe someone like Harrington would be a better match -

• that's when you're interrupting him, telling him that's just anxiety and self-doubt worming their way into his mind. you're a professional at talking him down from these moments of high anxiety, and do your best to reassure him that these fights are good.

• they're good because it means you both still care enough to fight.

• and you want to keep having fights with him, and not Harrington.

• typically, you'll go on a date after the bad fights. he feels guilty for it, you feel guilty for it, and you both want to spend time being in love before it all blows over. that's the usual indication the fight is 100% over and done with - Eddie takes you for milkshakes, or something.

• or maybe he's taking you to a clearing and you're laying on top of his van, stargazing.

• he gets you flowers after every fight, i don't care! whether you started it or he did, he's picking you some wild flowers (or buying them from a floral shop if he's really fucked up) and showing up at your house with a small pout.

• Eddie doesn't like fighting with you, so, you both try to keep them at a minimum. but hey, dating someone means you're in their space a lot, and odds of you never fighting are slim-to-zero.

• Eddie considers himself lucky to have someone like you. someone willing to fight it out through the rain to get to the sunshine on the other side. someone who lets him feel his emotions without guilting him, before helping rein it all back in.

• he has his rougher moments but he's mostly just a dickhead when he's angry. i still want him, thank yewww.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson concept #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things season 4 #stranger things imagine #eddie munson angst

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isa-belle1367 · 11 days

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Ferral desmond has my heart. So here are some feral desmond head canons

1. Extremely flexible and amazing at hiding even before the animus

2. blast the most aggressive music with a straight face. Like his headphones will be screaming about murdering people for drugs, and he'll just be chilling.

3. He definitely takes insane amounts of melatonin to fall asleep like 40+mg (please don't do that that is not safe).

4. Has started multiple bar fights on purpose.

5. Has connections to gangs.

6. Has never paid taxes, the IRS hates him.

7. He got really drunk and decided to have an energy drink with it. He ended up hacking into government intelligence and had to skip town because the fbi had tried to kill him

8. He is really good at throwing knives but can't shoot a bow to save his life. Like give him a set of throwing knives, and he can take down abstergo in an hour, give him a bow, and he'll be dead.

9. Once he learned how to fall safely, he started jumping off tall buildings for fun

10. A complete adrenaline junkie he spends most of his time at 6 flags

11. His feral-ness is not helped by the fact that he has the diet of a pre-med student reheated coffees with a side of hope and prayers

12. Prefers sleeping on the floor will 100% take the floor over a bed the only reason he has a mattress was so his friends had some where to sleep when they came over.

13. When he gets high, he either has questions that could get him on a watchlist or he's climbing the walls

14. He enjoys scaring children

15. Is very picky about keeping things a specific way. He can sense when someone is trying to reorganize his spice cabinet

16. LOVES spicy food. If he's not crying by the end, then it wasn't hot enough

17. His notes app is so fucking random like he has his grocery list, a hit list, the Geneva conventions, the bee movie script, the fucking Bible (he's not even Christian)

18. Once, he fist fought a gang leader and won.

19. He has had to disappear on multiple occasions because the FBI tried to revoke his life subscription

20. The only reason he got taken by Templars was because he was about to skip town again, but then Abstergo walked in and he was like "sweet I won't have to run across the country again thanks guys!"

21. Back at the farm, Bill had smacked one of his friends, and desmond had to be held back by 5 people (3 of which were seriously injured after)

22. He doesn't typically get angry, but when he does, everyone scatters bc he is punching concrete, and- *how tf did he just crack the concrete with a single punch?*

23. Never sleep (he might be batman)

24. "Do it, you won't" has been said to him too many times, and each time, he proves that he will, in fact, do it

25. If you gave that man a full 8 hour sleep along with a proper meal, he would be able to take over a country

#I LOVE FERAL DESMOND #hes so silly #let that man be feral #as a treat #desmond miles #silly desmond #desmond #assassin's creed #head canons

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animentality · 8 months

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Hey guys

In happy conjunction with the sequel novel, my urban fantasy romance novel, 7 Deadly Habits of the Modern Demon Summoner, is free from 9/2/2023 to 9/6/2023!

Link here.

It can be downloaded and read through the Kindle app, which is available for iPhone, Android, iPad, etc.

If you already own it...and you've already read it...well this is my happy announcement that the sequel is available here.

And for those of you who are new here and have no idea what I'm talking about...

7 Deadly Habits is my demon-wielding assassin series, revolving around a pansexual assassin named Rey, whose romantic and sexual flings with other assassins are constantly coming back to haunt him.

It's a dark comedy, but it's also a light tragedy. It's romantic and yearning, while also being stinging and hateful.

It's also a romance told in reverse.

It's got LGBT assassins, sadistic demon magic, and a cursed city on the brink of destruction.

It also has the following triggers, so be warned: violent sex, violence in general, a lot of murder, a lot of swearing, some sexual content, Hayward, and mentions of child grooming.

And here's the full plot description:

Transcription of summary:

Twenty-three-year-old CEO Don Francisco wants one of the richest women in the world dead. Which one? Daphne Oakland: actress, model, heir to the Oakland financial empire, and unbeknownst to the general public, talented demon summoner. But since Francisco isn’t nearly as rich as the established Oakland family, he hires the only assassin he can afford: Sebastián Monterey, a down-on-his-luck, struggling demon summoner, the cheapest and lowest ranking one there is.

But Monterey is nothing like Cisco expected. He’s high-spirited, reckless, relentlessly cheerful …and worse, he’s a bit of a slut. The CEO is horrified to find out that Monterey has not just one, but seven angry exes in the killing business, who will stop at nothing to get in the way of an already impossible hit. Not only do they have personal reasons for wanting to see their former lover dead, they also have professional reasons: they are all currently employed by the Oakland family members!

To make matters worse, Monterey finds out the Oaklands are each protecting a demon ritual artifact for Daphne. When brought together, all 7 can be used to summon a demon more powerful than any currently contracted on earth. If he is to carry out this hit at all, he’ll have to interfere with the summon by stealing every artifact, and maybe even summon the demon before Daphne can.

But that's only if none of his exes kill him first!

#writing #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #literature #bookblr

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aalghul · 21 days

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Nice post about Roy I like how kind your response was. But yeah as a Roy fan I find the idea that he would hate anyone but the man who killed his daughter to be silly. Cause like thing is Roy has a line till he doesn’t. Like you said Roy draws a line for himself with Cheshire but he never ever 100 percent commits. Even after the bombing and her holding a gun to Lian and threatening to shoot her while trying to escape prison, in his time with the League he still is hinted to love her and still lets Lian visit her. Flash forward to now they are still on again off again lovers/enemies. The old Titans ‘Roy breaks up with Cheshire’ story was written like it was the full end of their relationship but DC loves that concept and in comics they will always come back.

With Mia or people hurting his family Roy would not care at the end of the day unless that family member died sorry. Roy forgave a woman who babysat Lian and helped terrorists kidnap her and then broke his leg in an attempt to kill Cheshire. No he didn’t just forgive her he offered to let her keep babysitting Lian saying he didn’t think he had the right to judge anyone.

People other than Roy say he belongs in the light but Roy kind of hates that about himself and actively denies and resists it because he thinks the dirty work is the real important work. He worked in fantasy superhero CIA for years and even killed for them, left and made the Outsiders, initially didn’t want to leave and basically stayed till the last second till his mental health gave in, joined the League and didn’t actually have a great time with the group or ever really believe he belonged, had a horrible ending with that group and became a straight up villain after the ROA fiasco and worked on a team of villains all of whom except Slade he expressed some sort of sympathy for.

Roy just doesn’t give up on people and kind of really wants to do antihero work and tries to again and again. The age/maturity thing kind of gets it but that only matters where you connect Roy and Jason, they are peers and work together in some fashion off screen for a year in Outsiders, put a ROA recovering villain Roy with really any post UTRH Jason save Morrison Jason and you could write an intergenerational friendship arc easy.

People forget but before 52 first started a lot of people wanted a Jason Roy book. It was floated around as an idea for ages and rumor was even Winick made a pitch but can’t confirm. When 52 was first announced a lot of people thought not only that RHATO made sense and only Kory didn’t belong but thought the comic had real potential. And really it might have since Roy and Cheshire at one point would not have made sense for either character and notably everything about their relationship happened off screen. We give things a pass because of how well the stories are written. I think most issues with comics are people moralizing about the characters and saying they would never do this or that when 9 times out of 10 the writer just shat over the execution of a concept and the writing as is was shit.

-- i’m just going to include my thoughts down here --

I agree with everything you said about Roy just not being the person who holds a lot of hatred for people. He comes off as strict and even angry sometimes, but at heart, he’s one of the most understanding characters.

I always took Roy’s failed attempts at being an anti-hero as proof that it’s not what he’s meant to do. He keeps trying because he sees his sympathy and desire to do more as a sign that he needs to get his hands dirtier, but each time leaves him with the realization that he can’t be doing that type of work. He was reluctant to leave the Outsiders because he didn’t want to abandon them, that’s why he does leave as soon as Ollie provides funding for them (which he also does specifically because he knows Roy wouldn’t leave, no matter how much he wanted to, otherwise). The Outsiders did end in Roy himself realizing he couldn’t stay there.

I think Roy has always worked best in the various Titans teams he’s been part of. Unfortunately, Teen Titans (2003) set a new status quo with enough of the original Titans leaving and the team working under the leadership of younger members even when more experienced Titans were present. So we could never really go back to the titans as they were in any of the iterations prior to that.

I don’t think Jason and Roy worked together for a whole year; it was just Jason reaching out to Dick, and then subsequently teaming up with him and Roy to give them information of Black Lightning. Which definitely worked to let Roy know the type of person that Jason is (i.e. not a villain), but it was also very much through Dick, so it would again be a reminder of the time that Jason, as a child, teamed up with Roy and the others. Roy’s affinity to taking a guiding role when he works with team members significantly younger than him is just such an important part of who he is that I can’t get past it. I don’t mean to say that Roy’s going to treat Jason like a child, but that there’s going to be a significant gap between their friendship as compared to the friendship that post-flashpoint gave them. Roy is just at a completely different stage from Jason, who is essentially just beginning to catch up on life as a teenager. That difference can’t be ignored easily.

I didn’t read comics back then (and was also a very little kid lol) so I didn’t know about that being something people wanted back then! It must be disappointing to see how it’s turned out.

At the end of the day, I personally think that Roy and Jason could work together very well short-term, and then it would have to end in them walking their separate ways because Roy can never stay in the dark too long, whether he admits it or not. I get what you’re saying about good execution making all the difference, though! I just want to stay as consistent to Roy’s character as possible, so Jason and Roy as best friends/a long-term anti-hero duo never quite works out.

#submited by #anonroyfan #and there is also the fact that a lot of roy's writing post lian's death was just. bad. lazy at many parts #i hope this is coherent bc there are a lot of words and i proof read none of them

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oluka · 8 months

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Thoughts on Invincible Iron Man #8 and #9

When I read Invincible Iron Man #8, I couldn’t believe my eyes. A reference to Iron Man #182, in my Iron Man comics? More likely than I thought. The fact that the reference was tasteful and also showcased Duggan’s understanding of Tony’s character was the icing on the cake. To sum up the scene: Tony just got hurt very badly by two Stark Sentinels and is half conscious. He reaches out and asks Emma for help. She gets into his mindscape, which we discover is a snowy alley full with empty bottles and sad tags on the walls.

“No way out, safe, hope”. This is the melodrama I want to see in my Iron Man comics. I also loved that Emma didn’t dismiss Tony’s trauma: “It’s real, but it’s not what’s happening right now.” She helps him get out of this flashback/mindspace, and the fight goes on.

There’s this beautiful panel where Tony surrenders his suit to save Emma:

Look at it!! Look at the colours! Look at the lines! The motion!

Anyways. Tony manages to get Emma away from the fight, taunts Feilong to kill him. Then in issue #9, he refuses Steve’s help when he arrives (because he needs to be alone and he wants to protect his friends) and then he meets up with Emma in the sewers, runs back to his workshop to make her a ring to conceal her from Orchis, and comes back to her. He also bandages his own injuries.

He gets down to the sewers again, and gets into an argument with Emma about his and her actions (or lack thereof) against Orchis/Feilong. And then…

Tony has a panic attack. Which I think is the first time, ever, we see this happening explicitly in an Iron Man comic (I’m happy to be proved wrong). He has a panic attack because everything is going to hell and Rhodey is getting hurt in prison and Feilong is trying to kill Rhodey and Tony. Tony is hurting, physically and mentally, and Duggan does not shy away from showing that. I think that Frigeri made an excellent job in drawing Tony so angry and literally foaming at the mouth: he’s not doing well, his emotions are all over the place. He cries (!!) and asks for help, again. I’m really surprised that Tony asks for help twice in as many issues. Is it because he trusts Emma to calm his mind? Is it easier for him to ask her instead of his friends because it’s less personal? Or is he so desperate that there is no other way? I don’t know. Regardless, it’s interesting.

This time, Emma brings him to his happy place:

His happy place, his “idealistic self-image”, is him surrounded by the Iron Man armours. Emma’s comment about there being less unsavoury people and “tramps” than she’d expected pleased my vindicative heart. But more importantly: last issue, we got to see Tony’s worst mindscape, where he falls into when everything is going to hell and he’s dying. And it was him, alone, in the snow, surrounded by his biggest weakness and fear: alcoholism. In this issue, we see his happy place, which is essentially: Iron Man. What Tony loves most about himself is Iron Man, what he hates most is his alcoholism. AAAAAAAA. This is such quintessential Tony. It’s him. I think I haven’t seen such a good characterization in Iron Man comics in a decade. I still barely believe it.

The following panels set up Tony and Emma’s alliance for the upcoming comics. Judging from the solicits for IIM 12 and 13, they’re going to be a team for at least until those issues, and maybe further.

Emma’s ruthlessness and Tony’s genius can make for a deadly combo. They’re not playing around. I hope we will see them shine together. I can’t wait for them to give Feilong and Orchis what they deserve. Also, note the way they phrase their alliance: “To their deaths.” Add to that the way they are framed, both dressed sharply and facing each other like that, and my mind immediately made the connection to wedding vows: “Until death do us part”. Am I reading too much into it, or was this intentional from Duggan and Frigeri? Maybe future wil tell.

To end this long post, here are unrelated thoughts:

1. I love the current trend of Avengers actively helping Mutants fight against Orchis. We have Tony, of course, but also Steve who reformed the Uncanny Avengers to fight against Orchis; Thor just saved a mutant in Immortal Thor #1, we’ve had mentions of Vision, Reed and T’Challa helping on the information side… It’s great. Between AXE Judgment Day and Fall of X, it seems that Marvel writers/editorial have decided to stop pitting the X-men and Avengers against each other. Let’s hope it stays that way. Avengers help everyone, and it’s nice to finally see it even in x-men books. Also, it gives us awesome panels:

2. Tony is his own nemesis confirmed. Thank you, Duggan.

And that’s it! If you’ve read this far, consider telling me in comments or tags what you thought. I might start doing posts like this for every Iron Man comic week.

#tony stark #Invincible Iron Man (2022)#emma frost #iron man #wednesday spoilers #long post

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masha-nikita · 20 days

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Fedor von Bock's War Diary, a commentary

I have been reading von Bock’s war diary, and have noticed some interesting trends. I tend to agree with the Amazon top reviewer M. G Watson’s opinion, that it is written in excruciating details and professional jargon, and it may pose some problems for casual readers.

To a lay person, von Bock’s diary is heavily bogged down by factual statements and descriptions of the frontline situation, and its lack of sensibility means that the entries do not take the viewers deeper into analyzing a bigger picture nor do they show the colors of the writer’s mind and intentions- yet paradoxically, it is precisely what Bock’s mind is like- soldierly and loyal, to a point that he lacks common sense in basic human relations.

You’d get a sense that, yes, clearly this beauty is a bit off-kilter; no wonder according to E.A. Hart's "Hitler’s Generals", he was a social outcast among the officers, his harsh professional skills have no use in a normal civil society, and in turn, anything or anybody not wearing an uniform does not exist to him. You couldn't get more "autistic" than that.

The diary is clearly self-conscious that there may be readers, and oh boy, does von Bock like to complain to his readers that the OKH commanders are idiots! But not to a point that it attempts to manipulate the readers’ perceptions in order to virtue signal or to back stab, like certain historical memoirs do.

What I do not agree with Watson entirely, is whether or not his respect for Hitler was genuine, as Bock needed to maintain a positive relationship with the Fuhrer to get what he wanted, or else Halder would limit his actions left right and center, which exasperates von Bock.

It is said that Bock was initially heavily implicated in the 720 plot, only to be spared because one of his former staff commented that “Bock has been very respectful of the Fuhrer”—the thing is, that officer cited this according to his older memories, not knowing that in his retirement, Bock demonstrated how hateful he was of Hitler’s guts (source needed).

Personal comments and private sentiments are so lacking in this diary that I believe Bock was secretly socially awkward-- yet he was not afraid to make other generals awkward with him. He only regarded other generals as parts of his professional military machinery. However, he didn’t seem to hold any grudges-- I mean, the Kluge-Guderian kind of negativity, hating other generals and trying on colleagues' career destruction all the damn time.

Basically, people agreeing with Bock = a happy Bock; people not agreeing with Bock = a angry-crying emoji Bock. He also uses simplistic language like “beautiful lads”, “the soldier beamed at me", “the division is good but tired” that gives off impressions of him speaking whatever is on his mind. He keeps his diary content strictly professional, so when emotions do break out, these are oh so simple, pure and raw. Bock uses exclamation marks too excessively, a sign that he doesn’t know how to employ elaborate words to communicate how he feels.

When he laughs, he laughs; he laughs at the paranoid patients' wild antics; when he's upset, he's upset, saying "Schlieffen turns in his grave!" because "I am not allowed freedom further eastward!" It pains me to see he say things like "The misery those fleeing the war is terrible", "frightful misery of the refugees, but what can I do?" The helplessness in Bock's voice is so astounding when his personal interests, his character and the war context are taken into consideration.

It is so beautiful when a butcher knife weeps tears of blood.

If the emotion runs even deeper, he becomes quieter and more reserved. The readers have no chance seeing his softer spots. Who could blame this hardened soul for never writing anything about his stepson, whom he dressed up in little sailor outfit and took to see a military parade, so full of hope that the boy could be like him, or his grief when his family died?

11-9, 1939, Fedor von Bock very briefly and vaguely ordered von Kuchler to convene a court martial. Through the editor's archival supplement, we see that the SS artillery members killed lots of Polish Jews, and Fedi was NOT pleased. This informs me that when Fedi lingers on the "positive notes" about Hitler, it was probably artificial. Either massive Jewish civilian death really shook him, or he deliberately hid this court martial incident from his readers-- of whom there were certainly Nazi personnel.

#wwii germany #fedor von bock #heer #the war diary #wehrmachtblr #wehrmacht #3rd reich #fedi #my art

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buckybarnesb-tch · 7 months

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Which of the Lost Boys do you think is the most likely to…

Be mistaken for a celebrity?

Have visited the most states or even countries?

Have a collection of books that they may or may not have read entirely?

Speak a foreign language fluently?

Identify types of flowers?

Have the most body count?

Be a sadist?

Be the best at math?

Give someone the wrong directions (intentionally)?

Be an extra in a zombie movie?

Have read a Harlequin book?

Win at trivia?

Give the best hugs?

Fall from the tree?

Enjoy pineapple on their pizza?

Lost Boys Most Likely To 2

1) David often got teased for looking like Billy Idol, and while from his brothers and mate he found it funny, the whole pack would often end up feasting on a group of Surf Nazis because one of them made a loud, snarky comment in passing just trying to get under his skin…it always worked

2) David, before turning Dwayne and gaining a brother, used to spend his immortal life with Max which led him to visiting several different countries and states which he hated because he had had to travel in a coffin during the day and hope the no curious human opened the lid

3) Dwayne had several large bookshelves, full of books that he’s collected and stolen from both the boardwalk and his victims, books of every kind from Classics and documentaries to dark romances and biographies and he’s read almost every one of them

4) Marko is the only one to speak another language, and it shocks everyone to learn that he speaks fluent Italian

5) The only thing that Boys know about flowers is which ones to get in a bouquet when they fuck up and upset Y/n

6) Highest Body count? Definitely David, but that’s solely because of the fact that he’s the oldest, Marko is a very close second which may be shocking as Dwayne is the second oldest but Marko is the most angry and violent of the boys which leads to more deaths on his part

7) Marko is the most sadistic of the boys, which may be surprising to outsiders since they view him as the ‘smallest’ and the ‘One that’s always smiling’

8) The best at Math? Probably Dwayne but they’ve never stopped to find out

9) David would definitely give someone the wrong directions and take the opportunity to get them somewhere isolated so that he and the boys could have a snack, Paul however would do it just to be funny

10) Paul would 100% find it funny to volunteer as an extra in a zombie movie, especially because the camera won’t be able to see him so the scared humans just look possessed

11) Probably Dwayne, none of the other boys really read anything but he would never admit to it

12) Dwayne or David when it comes to trivia, depending on the type of trivia

13) Paul absolutely gives the best hugs, always knowing when one is needed but all of the boys give amazing hugs, David’s are so rare that it’s a special thing to experience, Dwayne is strangely always the warmest despite never wearing a shirt so its always wonderful and Marko’s hugs are always random and involve being twirled around

14) Paul or Marko would definitely be the ones to fall from the tree, just from fucking around with each other which ends up getting them both hurt and in need of a meal

15) Dwayne is the only one to enjoy pineapple on their pizza which makes their mate happy as she loves the same thing and she thought she was the only one

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klausinamarink · 7 months

Text

One Kid Gone, Another Up and Vanished (part 8)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 | next: Part 9 | ao3

The meeting we’ve all been waiting for… (also wow it’s already October what the hell. Plus it’s whumptober so this feels very fitting ^^ also sorry for the slower updates, I’ve started work again and it’s hectic to even get the writing energy after shifts, especially when I’m also doing a couple fan events)

Will carefully moves his hand around the drawer, brushing against the items inside and feeling their shapes for something familiar. When he finds it, he takes his hand out all the more slowly as not to brush his elbow against the vines that are keeping the drawer half open.

In his hand is a Zippo lighter. This one is bigger than his palm with a dragon engraving. The sight of it makes Will’s heart skip a beat. This one. This should work too.

He slips it into the pocket of his vest. It clinks against the other Zippos he had collected. On his way out of the trailer home, Will hops over the thickest vines on the ground as the residents chatter.

“Don’t forget about the fish.”

“I won’t, Bella. Are you stopping by the Byers kid’s funeral today?”

“What?” Will asks aloud, stopping in his tracks.

“Maybe, but I’m not sure I can attend the wake after.”

“Why? You and Joyce have a feud I don’t know about?”

“None of your business, Cody. I just don’t feel comfy about apologizing for nothing to a woman grieving her dead son.”

Will stays a moment longer but the couple’s conversation is already over, heavy footsteps echoing across the floor and to the gravel outside. He follows, but not before waving a hand on the light-switch, watching the lights in the living room burst into glittering orange in quick succession.

“Goddamn electric bill…”

He takes that cue to leave.

It’s a stomach-turning daze on the walk back to Eddie’s trailer. The couple had just mentioned a funeral. His funeral. But that can’t be right! Funerals happen when someone dies and their body has to be buried. And Will’s still very alive right now and his mom knows that!

And if Mom knows he’s alive, then she must’ve told Jonathan and the Party. And if they all know, then the school and rest of Hawkins wouldn’t make up a funeral for him.

Right?

He swallows down the urge to vomit. It’s suddenly harder to breathe. Will thinks it’s another coughing bout but nothing happens. It just feels like his chest is being squeezed.

He hurries faster. He doesn’t want to leave Eddie alone for too long.

Once he’s back in the trailer, he tiptoes his way into Eddie’s bedroom. He hasn’t been there before in the first visit, but it’s so full of posters, books, cassette tapes, and a red oddly-shaped guitar hanging on a wall. When he had first stepped in here, Will understood why Eddie didn’t want anybody to know he listens to David Bowie because there’s not a single poster of Bowie or The Clash anywhere. Only scary looking metal bands with similar clothes as Eddie.

Eddie’s still laying on bed, his back to the door. The same position he’s been in when Will had left.

Will slowly comes up to him and gently pats on his shoulder. He doesn’t say anything because touching is enough confirmation to say I’m back.

It’s like when Dad yells at Jonathan and his brother would be completely mute for the rest of the day or even the next day, not liking it when Will tries to talk to him.

“It’s not because I don’t like you trying to make me feel better. I just hate hearing someone talking to me when all I can still hear is Dad.” Jonathan had explained to him gently. Will had understood and hugged him, promising not to talk on Jonathan’s bad days.

Seeing Eddie becoming blank-eyed and not talking after weeping for what felt like hours had brought Will back to his brother’s bad days. So when Eddie couldn’t get up at first, Will made him get up and took him back inside where Eddie had let go of his hand and disappeared into his room.

It makes Will angry. Not at Eddie but at his uncle. Eddie had talked about his uncle Wayne like he was the best guy in the world and he left. He ran and never came back despite hearing Eddie on the phone.

When they get out of here, Will is going to punch Eddie’s uncle in the knees. Maybe. He had never hit anyone before.

Leaning against the bed, Will sits down on the floor and gets out the Zippo lighters he had collected. He has twelve in total so he organizes them in two rows of six. He picks the first one up and tries to catch a light.

It doesn’t work.

He puts it on the side and picks up the next one.

For about every two minutes, Will tries a lighter and sees if a flame can work. Sometimes it catches but only for a brief second. When a lighter does work, he flicks it off and on again to check if it’ll do it again, only for the spark to fail. This happens to Zippos number four, seven, and nine.

Even as the lighters dwindle with no success, Will keeps his hopes high. He has a crazy plan that he’s sure Eddie would love and he really wants it to work.

Number eleven is the one with the dragon design. He sucks in a quick breath and flicks it on.

The flame appears immediately before his eyes.

Will gasps, suddenly unable to flip the Zippo lid on. It looks much more brighter than the others, almost the same glow as the lights. Despite its small size, it illuminates the room, casting shadows as it flickers.

He takes another breath and closes the Zippo. He clamps it tight between both hands. Please come back.

As the Zippo flicks open, its flame returns.

Will can’t help but emit a happy shriek, “Eddie! It works, it works! The lighter works!”

He turns around, hoping to see Eddie sitting up wide eyed and shrieking back in excitement. But he still sees Eddie’s back.

The smile falls from Will’s face. He clicks the Zippo shut. Then he flips it open again, stretching his right hand out enough so it wouldn’t get burned. He looks at the now-orange wall as the shadow of his hand mimics a rabbit’s head.

“Look, Eddie the Elder Traveller.” Will whispers. He “hops” his hand, making it disappear and reappear on the silhouette of Eddie’s back. Then he moves his fingers so it would look like a fox. “The fox is about to get the rabbit.”

Eddie doesn’t move.

A sudden thought strikes upon Will: What if Eddie’s dead?

He lunges himself onto the mattress, barely careful to turn the lighter off. After an ‘whoompf’, he turns on his side to actually face Eddie. He flicks the lighter back on and sighs in relief when he sees Eddie’s pupils immediately dilating.

“See, Eddie? We have light. I can make a real fire to scare the monster off.” Will tells him in a hushed tone. Watches for any more movement or reactions.

Nothing. Even his breathing is too small to notice.

Will closes the Zippo, shivering when the tiny warmth disappears. It’s getting colder the longer they’re here.

Eddie finally moves.

Will almost says something, but Eddie’s face is unchanging even as his arm wraps around Will and pulls him close to his chest, Will’s head tucking under his chin.

This close, Will can feel Eddie’s heartbeat - slow and almost not there..

He gulps, tears pricking the corner of his eyes. He lets himself stay in the hug before he taps Eddie’s arm. He whispers, “I have to get up.”

There’s a small tremor across Eddie’s body. Will feels him slowly shaking his head and tightening his arm.

“I promise to come back. It’ll only be a few minutes.”

Eddie shakes his head again but stops. Then he makes a tiny whistling sound like a sigh before his arm loosens. Will slowly shuffles away, watching Eddie’s face as he gets off.

The only change of expression is the glossy look in his eyes.

Will squeezes Eddie’s hand one, two, three, four times. He forces himself to look away and walks out of the room.

On the kitchen counter, the pile of dirty towels and broken wood pieces remain besides a tall bottle of cooking oil as he had left them. Will takes a deep breath and gets to work.

—

It takes an embarrassing amount of time for Wayne’s courage to come back at his front door. Every attempt to turn the damn doorknob gives him the goosebumps and shivers down his spine. He’s fairly certain his trailer is haunted and the ghost in there doesn’t want him in.

But Wayne has to go back inside. He needs to collect his suit for Will’s Byers funeral later in the morning. It’s a public invite and Wayne wants to give his respects for Joyce Byers.

He cycles through deep slow breathes before he finally twists the doorknob all the way and steps in.

He expects the living room to be a mess, if the ghost is a poltergeist type. But it’s the same as last night. Not even his mugs are misplaced. Though he can practically taste the new weight of the atmosphere.

He hurries over to the hallway closet, which is a corner away from Eddie’s room. There, the weight presses down, slipping into his throat as if he’s choked with the depression. The same feeling he gets whenever Eddie has an awful day and wants to be out of Wayne’s sight.

Wayne’s hands are carefully still as he finds the black suit at the very end. It’s a little wrinkled but he doesn’t want to stay longer to iron it.

As he changes in the living room, the light in the kitchen flickers.

He freezes. Watches the light flicker slowly and than rapidly.

He finishes in record time and gets the hell out before the ghost gets another idea.

—

Will listens to the rumbling echoes of the truck driving away. He kicks at the front door again, imagining it to be Eddie’s uncle’s knees.

It’s really frustrating to get someone who isn’t Mom to do more than notice their lights going crazy and ignore it.

Will closes his eyes, takes more deep breaths, and tries not to get mad. Once he’s feeling more calm, he goes back to packing the new torches. He’s made about five, which is enough to fit the small satchel he found in. It’ll be heavier to carry, but he can do it.

He’s both excited and cautious about using fireballs in real life. He knows it’s going to be different than playing in D&D, but Will the Wise always uses fireball as the first and last chance to finish the fight.

Will the Wise had missed. Will Byers will not.

As he returns back to Eddie’s room, the older boy is still lying in the same position. Will wonders if Eddie had even heard his uncle come in and out.

His eyes fall on the box of tapes, somehow untouched by the vines. Then he looks over to Eddie’s desk where a Walkman lies with dust.

An idea pops up.

He makes a quick move to the tapes. He’s almost overwhelmed by the sheer number of them (Eddie probably has more than Jonathan!) but he lets himself pick one by random. It’s too dark to read the band name but it has three angels sitting and smoking.

He grabs the Walkman next. He pops the tape inside and presses play. It immediately starts to life, a song playing loud through the headphones.

Will pads over to Eddie, contemplating if he should slip the headphones on. He places them in front of Eddie where he could see it, exclaiming, “Walkman still works!”

It doesn’t take long for Eddie to sit up. Slowly and robotically, Eddie picks up his Walkman and slips on the headphones. His gaze remains dull and downcast. Will tries hard not to notice the tear tracks cleaning his dirty face.

He steps closer and gently takes Eddie’s hand, limp across the lap. “We should go back to my place.” Will’s not sure if Eddie can even hear him, through the music or not. But Eddie gives a small nod anyway, although he doesn’t stand up until Will tugs him to move.

Will squeezes Eddie’s hand three times as he leads them outside. The demogorgon isn’t here so there’s a bit more luck on their side. Maybe it’s finally leaving them alone?

He says this aloud to Eddie, but Eddie doesn’t respond or squeeze his hand back. Only shuffles along with a blank stare.

Will keeps a tighter grip on their hands and spears. It all feels too heavy.

—

The funeral goes as expected for a young boy: quiet, heavy-hearted, and carefully neutral expressions. No one wants to be the first to burst into loud tears, not even the Byers.

Wayne looks over at the family during the priest’s readings. Lonnie is carefully sober. Jonathan seems seconds away to crying. Joyce appears almost scowling, no doubt angry at the world for taking her son.

He also notes the three younger boys attending, possibly Will’s best friends. They all look carefully inattentive at the small coffin.

After the initial burial, most of everyone goes to the funeral home for the usual refreshments and murmurs. Wayne didn’t plan to go, not wanting another target of pity on his back. But something on his gut tells him to go there and he’s obedient to himself so he follows the crowd.

He keeps his head down, which does enough of avoiding attention. But the funeral home feels too small and tight. He goes outside to one of the porches.

Joyce is also there, sitting one of the cricketing wooden chairs. She gives out a heavy sigh, “Jonathan, tell your father I’m-”

She stops herself when she looks up and sees Wayne. She looks almost frazzled for a second before her shoulders drop slightly, then they hunch up again. “Oh, sorry.”

Wayne manages to bite the “I’m sorry for your loss” from the tip of his tongue. Instead, he takes out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and offers it to Joyce.

She blinks before she takes one. Then she hesitates and takes two more. Wayne gives no comment to that. Only asks, “You want a light?”

Joyce shakes her head, taking out a lighter from where she stuffs in the two extra cigarettes. “Thanks for the cigarette though.”

“Not a problem.”

They smoke in silence for a while. Wayne peeks over at Joyce, feeling his eyebrows rise to his scalp when he sees her cigarette is halfway done. But he doesn’t say anything about it. Anyone’s smoking habits is their business, not his.

When Joyce finally speaks, it sounds careful, “I noticed another missing poster on the way here.”

Wayne grunts, “Who’s?”

“Yours.”

He stops. He doesn’t look at Joyce. He doesn’t want to see the same goddamn face on her too. Instead, he gives the smallest of nods as he stares out. “He might’ve just ran away to a concert. I’m probably overacting.”

A pause.

Then Joyce says, quiet and hoarse with an undying conviction, “My son is not dead.”

Wayne merely hums. Takes another drag instead of replying back to her.

“Think of me as crazy like everyone else, but that’s not my Will we’ve buried. He’s still alive, I know it.”

Wayne looks at her. She’s staring at the ground as if she wants to burn the grass in front of her. There’s a trembling anger around her outline that threatens to break out and scorch the woods. He gets the feeling this isn’t something Joyce had built up to after her son’s disappearance, but much earlier in her life that she hid well until now.

Her words come over him then and he feels a tug of, well, maybe not sympathy. More akin to understanding. The vague sense of knowing your child is still alive without a doubt and yet everyone already thinks otherwise.

It feels like a curse. That maybe he and Joyce had accidentally walked through some wrong area of land as kids long ago and nature covered their tracks by taking away their boys.

“I get it.” Wayne mumbles around his cigarette. “I know my nephew is out there somewhere but I just don’t know where.”

Joyce hums in acknowledgment. “Maybe they’ve found each other and are coming home as we speak.”

“Careful, wishful thinking is a bad habit.” Wayne jokes lightly. He feels relieved when Joyce snorts and shakes her head. He sighs and looks off to the direction of the cemetery.

“I’ve actually had a call from Eddie last night.” There’s a surprised noise from Joyce. “Yeah. Couldn’t believe it either. But it was so short with lots of static and actually killed my landline. But it was him. And he was calling for me. I just wish I could’ve known immediately where he was so I could drive there as fast as I could to my boy.”

Silence answers him. He worries the pad of his thumb along his jaw. His cigarette is still burning but he lets it drop to the ground, feeling unable to smoke anymore. He stares at the dying embers as if they would tell him off for oversharing like that.

“Did your lights flicker?”

Wayne blinks and looks over. Joyce’s sitting up straighter, traces of anger suddenly vanished and replaced by a wide-eyed expression he cannot place.

“Beg your pardon?”

“Your lights.” Joyce repeats. “Did they, uh, did you have some electrical problems after Eddie disappeared?”

Wayne stares.

Joyce shrinks down, putting out her cigarette. “Sorry, that’s a stupid question. I shouldn’t have asked-”

“No, no, it’s alright. Just why are you asking that?”

Joyce looks back at him with an almost helpless expression. Then she appears to steel herself with a sharp inhale, closes her eyes, and says “The night after Will went missing, I got a call. And I can recognize my baby’s breathing and voice. Even if the other line’s nothing but the static. And every day after that, the lights in my house flickered at random. It happened whenever I called for Will’s name.”

Wayne feels himself leaning forward towards her, his hand lightly grazing his beard. It sends him a little down to memory lane of being ten years old and listening to campfire stories. The ones that scare and intrigue him the most always make him lean forward, as if he can catch the next words from midair and keep them for himself like caterpillars in jars.

“I knew it was Will. It took me a couple of days to figure how to help him speak better through the lights. He told me he wasn’t safe or alone.”

Joyce opens her eyes and meets his. They look almost kindly like a summer’s rain. But Wayne knows how to see through and recognize an approaching tornado.

“Before Will said this, I asked him to spell his name. He did that and also spelled out ‘and Eddie.’”

Wayne catches the air escaping out of his mouth. He turns his head away, looking back down at his dead cigarette.

“I know it sounds like I’m making this up, but I’m not, Wayne.” Joyce continues, her voice firm with a hint of pleading. “If you choose to not believe me and see me as a psychotic bitch hurting your feelings, than that’s fine. All I’m just asking if your lights—”

“Last night.” His voice sounds too calm in Wayne’s ears even though his throat feels rough as sandpaper.

“Sorry?”

“My lights went crazy last night. Then again this morning.” He returns his gaze back to Joyce. Her mouth is open in an ‘o’ shape, almost like she’s in disbelief. She closes it, the unreadable expression returning.

She asks, “Do you… believe me?”

Wayne thinks back to the campfire stories. How the ones that shake his younger bones and skin are the ones with truth to them, no matter how small they were. And Joyce’s story sounds like the truth is too large to be chopped up.

“It feels a hell of a coincidence that our boys vanished almost a couple days of each other and then we get crazy by our house lights.” Wayne answers slowly.

Joyce almost shutters with a sigh of relief before she snaps her head up at him. “Can you take me to your place?”

Wayne blinks, taken aback by the little whiplash of her words. “What-”

“I want to check your lights. See if we can speak to our boys.” Joyce’s tone is no-nonsense. Her eyes are hard with determination. Her outline of fury is shimmering, no longer ready to burn the town down.

Wayne wonders if he’s looking at himself. That he has the same fury and determination that everyone had seen in him since Eddie never came home.

He nods at her. “I’ll drive you.”

—

Taglist: @unclewaynemunson @steves-strapcollection @hellion-child @sidekick-hero @mmmmwaffles94 @hbyrde36 @princessstevemunson @sirsnacksalot @tartarusknight @lyriclight @kodaik97 @plsdontdrinkmylavalamp @bookbinderbitch @gutterflower77 @soaringornithopter @angeldreamsoffanfic @panicatthediaz @renaissan-vvitch @manda-panda-monium @newtstabber @little-trash-ghost @niniel-karenine @tinyplanet95

#wayne and joyce have finally met!!! *throws confetti *#they’re gonna be so awesome together #also will is about to have a mini arson arc - it’s what he deserves <3 #I planned for a Jeff pov here but i think that would’ve clog things little too much so he’s back in the next part #will picked out black sabbath’s heaven and hell album btw. I swear there’s a deeper meaning to it.#eddie and will in the upside down au #klaus writes #eddie munson #will byers #wayne munson #joyce byers #stranger things

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gamerbearmira · 15 days

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Hi just wanted to talk about an Au idea I had

Story: Mirabel when she was 9 found a crack in the mountains of the encanto. She told her family she was going on a camping trip(which was not technically wrong). She explored the outside of the encanto, 5 days into her trip she found a kingdom full of magic and non magical people in harmony. The kingdom was run by 4 kings and 3 queens, their all siblings that rule over the kingdom. Over time Mirabel gets close to the rolers and they (not officially) adopted mirabel as their little sister, calling her princesa Mirabel. Mirabel had a personal guard and a room in the castle. Mirabel one day came to the kingdom after getting yelled at by Alma, Isabella and pepa all in one day. She asked to be alone in her room, her guard listened to her request and stayed outside her door. mirabel went out through her window to the garden. What she didn't know was that the kingdom was at war and a soldier from the opposite nation killed her in cold blood. The solder was found and killed. Mirabel's guard felt like he failed his job. The rolers were angry at the madrigal family so they made 9 stitched dolls of mirabel and gave them each a fraction of Mirabel's soul. The dolls were made as a test, if the madrigal family didn't change their ways after the 9th one was gone they would destroy the encanto and only spare the kids. They put doll one in Mirabel's bed and the next day someone that looked just like Mirabel was in the nursery at Casita. The rolers erased the clones memories of the kingdom and her death(the original mirabel). Over time the clones replaced each other as the others found out the truth or Mirabel (the idea) had to look older. Doll 9 (the Mirabel we follow in the movie) was exploring a little bit outside the encanto when she found a person unconscious outside of the encanto. After healing and the person woke up she explained she was a seamstress at the castle and about the original mirabel and what happened and how the rolers believes that the madrigal family lost their last chance to change and where planning an attack.

Side ideas: the original mirabel never got to meet Antonio, the clones that know the truth call the original mirabel "the original", the clones call echother by their numbers, the clones live in the kingdom when they're replaced in the encanto

The other 8 clones personalities:

Una: Una was the first, she lasted the longest at a 2 whole years, she acts a lot like Alma but she will Punch you if you say that to her face. She spends most her time at the originals grave. She looks more doll like now more than human.

Dos: is flirting, guys, girls she don't care. Her and Una are the best guards in the kingdom. She has a few cuts here and there but is in perfect condition.

Tres: she is a book lover and will stay in the library most of the time. She loves to write. She has short hair that looks like yarn.

Cuatro: she acts a lot like Luisa, the only thing that calms her down is sleeping. She has a button eye because she lost her original eye.

Cinco: she is cold, angry, tough and she will attack now and ask questions later. She is missing an arm.

Sesi: is calm, caring. She loves to sing and will often sing at bars in the kingdom. She has the longest hair out of the clones.

Siete: she is always pissed at something, she loves to explore and will have a book that she keeps of all her magical findings. She will always have sticks and leaves in her hair for some reason.

Ocho: she is very restful of the 9th clone because Ocho was replaced the day before Antonio's birthday/gift ceremony. She gets her emotions out by sewing. She is always quiet and gets along with Siete the most. She rerooted her hair teal with light blue highlights.

All: they all hate Alma with a burning passion and will always say it. They would say it to her face to. They don't understand how the 9th can just forget alma

It is actually wild how they don’t see the clones, like ow??? Do you miss something like that, it is genuinely baffling to me. Like wrap it up, all nine of y’all can go home, where’s the og 💀💀 also the fact that og Mirabel never got to meet Antonio is so sad. I’m sobbing 😭 but like. It’s also strange how these more than likely grown rulers let her in during a war, personally I would never. But that’s just me ☹️

GET A GRIP⁉️⁉️🙏

#my asks #my asks are open #encanto #encanto au #au #encanto mirabel

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jpmarvel90 · 8 months

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Don't let me down - Part 9

Y/n's POV:

Masterlist Scarlett Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Relationship: MamaScarlett x 16 yr old Reader

Summary: Whilst Y/n tries to distract herself from the impending court case with Mr Woodstock. She ends up having to face another hurdle she wasn't expecting.

Word count: 6993

Trying to focus on my schoolwork and soccer has been really hard since Danny came around and dropped the bomb that I'm likely going to have to testify against Mr Woodstock. Scarlett and Colin have been great and are supporting me more than I could ask. They're not pushing me, but they are there when I have my moments. I'm glad that I have them to go through this with.

When I told Laura, I've never seen her more angry. She started ranting about how unfair it is to make, not just me, but the other kids have to relive what we went through. She's spent a lot of time with me after school and I'm sure that her and Scarlett have been texting about me. Part of me is a little annoyed as I feel like I'm being watched, but then I'm grateful they care about me enough to check in with each other.

We had a meeting with the DA who is leading the case and he has confirmed that I will be asked a number of questions by himself and then the defence lawyer will have a chance to also question me. The thought of that terrifies me as I know that they are just going to try and prove me wrong or discredit my testimony. I've seen enough Law & Order SUV to know how it goes.

However, both Danny and the DA have assured me that they'll coach me in responding to the questions. I'll already know what they plan to ask me, so I'll be prepared from that point of view. However, we'll have no idea what the defence may say. So, we're going to do some sessions together where they'll prepare me as best they can.

Scarlett has tried to suggest that I do it via video link to give me an extra layer of protection, but I know that I want to be there. I can't bring my parents to justice for the years I spent being abused by them, but I can to Mr Woodstock. It's not just me he hurt and if I had the balls to do this earlier, I could have stopped the other kids getting hurt too.

When we left the DA's office, I felt dread over the upcoming court case. We have a month to prepare before I'll need to testify. Thankfully, I don't need to be there for anything else. It's one day and then hopefully they'll find him guilty, and I'll be able to move on and put my past firmly behind me. Allow me to focus on how my life is going to be better moving forward.

The sessions with Danny have been ok. He's predicted what he believes the defence may ask and then poses the question to me. We then work on how I can approach different elements. He also helps me to control my emotions and focus on breathing. Taking a breather is not a bad thing and will only reflect badly on the defence lawyer if he tries to move me on.

I think the sessions are helping, but I feel drained after every one. I cry in each one and I hate it. Reliving what happened is bad enough, but having to prepare to defend that I'm telling the truth is horrible. I just hope that this is all worth it.

Thankfully, we have our next soccer games this week and it's providing me with something to focus on. It's still hard to give me full attention, but I owe it to the team to still be the best player and captain that I can be. This week, Lizzie is joining Scarlett and Rose to watch. Unfortunately, Colin is working today so can't make it. Scarlett decided to leave Cosmo with Melanie so the three of them can enjoy the afternoon before coming to school to watch the game.

We're so far unbeaten this season. We had two preseason games that gave us a good platform to work from. But we've only play 5 league games. We're playing well and hopefully we'll be able to make it into the playoffs at the end of the year. But today's game will be the biggest test that we've had yet. Rochford High are a tough team and they are aggressive.

I use the warmup to get my mind completely on the game and make sure that I don't let it drift off to everything that is happening in my personal life. Laura is great at keeping me smiling as she jokes around, and we make sure our pre-game warm up doesn't change even though we're playing a tough team.

As we're taking on water, my eyes scan the bleachers, which are bursting tonight. It's like the whole local town has turned up. My eyes quickly land on my little sister who is jumping up and down and waving at me when she sees me looking. I wave back and pull a face at her whilst Lizzie and Scarlett wave to me also.

It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling to see them in the stands. I never thought I would have people here to support me. Scarlett has been to every one of my home games. She even rearranged work to come to the one of them. It makes me feel wanted and loved and it's a strange feeling for me. But I like it and I couldn't be more grateful to see them in the crowd.

Coach Saunders calls us into a huddle and gives us an inspiring team talk. I gulp when I have to follow him up, but I make sure to be confident and re-enforce our teamwork and we win together and lose together. With our huddle over, I make my way over to the referee for the coin toss. I shake their captain's hand and internally fist pump when we win the coin toss. I decide to kick off first and we take our places on the pitch waiting for the whistle to blow.

The game is frantic from the first whistle. As expected, they play hard and are hitting us off the ball a lot. We change our tactic to have quick and accurate passing, which works and starts to frustrate them. They end up fouling us a lot more and the ref warns them about their actions.

We take advantage of this when Laura is on the receiving end of a beautiful freekick from Bella. Even though she's tasselling with the defender, she's able to get up higher than her and her head meets the ball. I watch as it flies past the keeper and into the back of the net.

The crowd go wild as we rush around Laura and Bella, cheering the perfect set piece. "I'm proud of you babe." I tell her as we walk back to our side of the pitch for the restart, my arm draped over her shoulder. "I need to keep impressing you." She smirks, nudging me. "Consider me impressed." I return, moving to take my spot.

We manage to dominate the first half but don't get any more goals. We've been able to adapt our play to make their efforts ineffective. We can see that it's just frustrating them more and that carries on into the second half. We're getting so many shots on goal but we're just not getting it in the net.

They manage to catch us on the counterattack, and I rush back to provide support in defence, with a well time sliding tackle I dispossess their striker as she's about to take her shot on goal. I quickly jump to my feet and sprint down the pitch to get myself into an open position.

Seeing I'm in open space, I call for the ball and trap it with my foot. Looking up I see it's just me against two defenders, my team still getting back into position from the counterattack. Not wasting anytime, I take on the first defender, getting around her with ease.

I look up hoping to see someone in the box, but I'm still the furthest up the field. With a swift nudge to the ball, I megs the final defender and run around her, despite her efforts to stop me getting to the ball. Just as she tugs my t-shirt, I manage to get a good connection with the ball and watch as it sails into the top corner. Though I'm now on the floor as a result of the shirt tug.

This doesn't stop the team celebrating with me, bundling on me on the floor. With our celebration over, Laura holds her hand out to me to help me back to my feet. "You just had to one up me didn't you." She teases. "Maybe I want to impress you too." I wink at her as she shakes her head at my antics. As I'm moving back for the restart, I look to the crown and wave to Rose who's still cheering. She really is my biggest fan, and she looks adorable in our team jersey.

With our energy up, we just seem to get better. With our third goal, the pressure seems to disappear and we're playing more freely. When we win a freekick near the corner flag, I'm on the hunt for a second goal. I'm stood on the edge of the box and hold my hands in the air to indicate the play we should go for.

As the ball is crossed into the box, I run in and go to jump to try and get my head on the ball. Their defender goes up with me, but I see her elbow wind back as she jumps. She's not looking at the ball and I'm helpless as I watch her elbow move towards my face. For a split second I feel pain as she makes a connection, but it soon disappears as I fade into darkness.

Scarlett's POV:

This is the best that I've seen the team play. They're working as a cohesive group and seem to be able to counter anything the other team throw at them. I'm so proud when Y/n scores and the three of us cheer along with the rest of the crowd as the team celebrate.

Y/n had talked about how difficult this game was going to be. The opposition are probably one of the only teams that can match their ability, but they just don't seem to be able to break the team down. Instead of regrouping they're just getting more frustrated.

It's great seeing the smile on Y/n's face. I've not seen her smile like that in a while since we learnt about the court case. Soccer has always brought her happiness and I'm glad it's giving her an outlet today.

The team get ready for another freekick, and it seems certain that it's only a matter of time before they score again. My eyes are on my daughter as the anticipation builds. However, when I see an elbow collide with her face, I'm instantly out of my seat shouting for a foul.

However, I instantly freeze when I see Y/n on the floor not moving, her leg bent in an awkward angle. "Lizzie, watch Rose." I call out as I rush down the stairs of the bleachers and jump over the railing. Coach Saunders sees me and waves me over as he's knelt down next to my unconscious daughter.

As I reach her, I can hear the team arguing with the ref and a couple of them scuffling with the other team, mainly the defender that hit her. "Is she ok?" I ask, panic filling my voice as I kneel down next to her. Laura on one side holding her hand tightly. My eyes look over her and I see blood on her face from her nose. My eyes then move down to her leg, and I have to fight back tears. "She fell awkwardly and landed on her leg as she didn't have control over her body." Coach Saunders explains, moving so I can get in closer.

Fear overrides me as I'm desperate for my daughter to wake up. "We've called 911 and they should be here shortly." One of the assistant coaches calls out. "Y/n baby, wake up for me please." I beg her, my hands gently cupping her face. "Come on sweetheart." I encourage her, hoping that she might start to stir. My eyes flick to Laura who's watching on with teary eyes.

I move my hand and place it over hers that is already holding Y/n's. "She's going to be ok right?" Laura asks, looking up to me hopefully. "Of course she is. She's strong." I reassure her, though I'm scared myself. Thankfully, we don't have to wait for long for the ambulance to arrive and almost simultaneously, Y/n starts to stir awake. "Y/n, sweetie. It's Scarlett are you ok?" I ask her as her eyes fill with fear. "Mom?" She whispers, making my heart clench at the name. I don't let it get to me and focus on her. "I'm here baby. You're ok. The paramedics are here." I tell her and she nods.

She obviously starts to feel the pain and she starts to cry out. "It's ok babe. You're going to be fine. They'll get you some good stuff soon." Laura tries to joke through her own tears. The paramedics soon join us, and we reluctantly have to move out of the way as they treat her.

I take a moment to breathe and notice the referee brandish a red card to the defender that hit her. I have to fight from going over to the kid and giving her a piece of my mind. But I have to remember she is just that. A kid. "Mommy! Is Y/n, ok?" Rose calls out to me. I glance to Y/n and see she's being looked after and right now I need to comfort my other daughter.

I walk over to her and pick her up instantly. "She's hurt, but she's being looked after. She's going to have to go the hospital, but she'll be ok." I reassure her as she nods in my neck. "I can take Rose home whilst you're with Y/n." Lizzie offers but Rose instantly argues with that idea. "I don't want to leave Y/n. Please!" She begs. "I can bring her to the hospital?" Lizzie offers and I think for a moment. "You have to understand that it's going to be boring." I explain to Rose, and she nods. "I want to be there to protect Y/n." She responds, making my heart warm at her cuteness.

"How about we go home and grab some things for you both and then we'll come to the hospital." Lizzie suggests. "If you wouldn't mind that would be great." I agree, looking back towards Y/n. "Go, text me where you are, and we'll see you later." Lizzie says when she sees my concern. "Thank you, Lizzie. I love you Rose, and we'll see you later." I say before rushing back to be with Y/n.

They're currently giving her some gas and air when I return, and the paramedic looks to me. "Are you mom?" She asks and I nod. "We're just stabilising her leg and then we'll get her to the hospital. They'll assess her there and give her some additional pain relief." She explains and I nod along, my eyes fixated on Y/n.

Seeing where my eyes are the paramedic continues to reassure me. "This may look scary at the moment, but we need to also to stabilise her head just in case there are any injuries to her neck. We're making sure we take every precaution to prevent further injury." I continue to nod along. Understanding why they're doing what they're doing. It just doesn't make it any easier to watch.

I take my place next to Y/n and provide her any comfort I can whilst she is being seen too. "Can I come with you?" Laura asks, looking from Y/n to me. "No." Y/n jumps in taking Laura by surprise, her eyes showing the hurt. "You need to finish the game." Y/n clarifies. "But..." Laura goes to defend but Y/n cuts her off. "I'll still be broken when the game is over. I'm ok and not going anywhere. Quite literally." She jokes, making us both chuckle. "Please, you need to make sure we win this game and then you can come and see me." She requests. Laura reluctantly agrees but doesn't leave her side until she's guided on to the gurney and moved toward the ambulance. "I'll keep you updated." I promise Laura who nods, reluctant to let go. "I'll see you shortly babe." She smiles, placing a gentle kiss on Y/n's lips, who gives a giddy smile.

I climb in the back of the ambulance and take a seat next to Y/n, reaching out to hold her hand. The paramedics get in and we start on our journey to the hospital. "It hurts mom." Y/n looks to me, tears in her eyes. My heart skips a beat again when she calls me mom. "I know. I'm sorry you're hurt. But I'm here for you." I try to comfort her. "The doctors will be able to get you some morphine when you're in the ER." The paramedic tells Y/n, which seems to appease her for now.

Thankfully, it's not long until we're at the hospital and we're being taking through to the ER where a doctor and some nurses are waiting for us. The potential injury to her neck is their biggest concern right now and they want to confirm there isn't any further injury before properly addressing her leg.

I stand to the side feeling completely helpless as I watch the doctors and nurses move around Y/n, calling out stats and information as they go. The whimpers from Y/n make my heart break. I wish I could take the pain away from here. "Let's get a canula set up and we'll get some pain relief." One of the doctors orders.

Thankfully, the morphine seems to start working quite quickly and Y/n's whimpers start to peter out as the medicine does its job. "Mrs Johansson?" The call of my name tears my eyes away from my daughter and to the doctor who is stood next to me with a kind smile on his face. "Hi, I'm Dr Greenwood. I'm the primary physician for your daughter." He greets me. "On initial examination, it's clear that Y/n has a broken leg and potentially a facial fracture too. We're confident there is no damage to her neck, but we want to be sure before removing the brace. So, we'll be sending her down for some x-rays and scans so we can get a full assessment of her injuries." He explains and I nod along.

"We've given her pain relief and that seems to be working and she's much more comfortable now. I know it's hard to see your kid in pain, but I can assure you we're doing everything that we can to make sure she is comfortable." He assures me, making smile. "Thank you. I appreciate everything you're doing." I respond. "I can get one of the nurses to show you to a private waiting room whilst Y/n is taken for imagery, and we'll come and get you as soon as she's settled in a room." He offers. "Can I see her first?" I request. "Of course. We're just waiting for the porters now." He responds and moves out of the way for me to see Y/n.

The madness around her has died down now and she's just got a couple of nurses monitoring different things. "Hi sweetheart. How are you feeling?" I ask Y/n as I take her hand and gently run my hands through her hair. "Tired and sore." She responds with a croaky voice. Her eye is already starting to swell and bruise, a reminder of the harsh act that led to her being in the hospital. "They're going to take you to get some scans of your leg and neck in a minute. I'll be waiting for you to come back." I explain. "Does that mean I can get this thing off?" She asks, tugging a little at the neck brace. "As long as the scans come back clear you'll be free of the prison." I respond with a smirk, happy that there is a smile on her face.

"We're ready to take her now." One of the nurses tells us. "I'll be right here waiting. I love you ok." I tell her firmly. "I love you too." She responds, taking me by surprise. I don't think she's ever said that to me before. It causes a tear to fall down my cheek as I smile at her lovingly. "Mom, you've got to let me go." She chuckles, just adding to my happiness. I try not to think to much of it, before she was in pain and now, she's on drugs. When she's more with it, we may be going back to Scarlett, but I'll take it for now!

I watch as they roll Y/n away down the corridor, taking a deep breath. I'm then guided to a private waiting room, which I'm very grateful for. I'd rather this not be how news of Y/n gets out. I want it to be on our terms and when she's comfortable. I quickly text Lizzie an update and she confirms they're packing a bag for Y/n as it's likely she'll be in overnight.

Now I just need to call my husband. He's at work today preparing for filming tonight. I hesitate in calling him, but I know that he'd want to be told that she was in the hospital. I hit his contact name and wait for him to answer.

Colin: Hi babe. How was the game? Did they win?

He asks instantly, excitement in his voice. I love how invested he is in Y/n's soccer games.

Scarlett: Uh I'm not actually sure. Y/n got hurt during the game and we're currently at the hospital.

Colin: WHAT?! Is she ok? What happened? How badly is she hurt?

He rambles down the phone, panic lacing his voice.

Scarlett: She was elbowed in the face by a defender when she jumped to head a ball. It knocked her out and as she fell, she landed on her leg awkwardly.

Colin: Oh my God. Was it deliberate? Actually, never mind. I'm leaving work now and I'm coming to the hospital. What did the doctor say?

Scarlett: Col, you don't need to do that. Y/n understands you're working and she's doing ok? She's currently having scans to see how badly her leg is broken and to rule out a neck injury.

Colin: Of course, I'm coming. She's my daughter. Family always comes first, you know that.

I smile down the phone when he refers to Y/n as his daughter. He did it so easily. I really need to bring up the whole adoption thing again. I don't think I can go much longer without having her legal be my daughter. I want her to know that she has a loving mom and dad who will be there for her no matter what.

As he's on the phone I can hear him explaining the situation to someone, I'm assuming the director, who easily agrees for him to leave. He then starts to rush around to get to the car.

Colin: "Ok. I'm about to drive. I'll see you in about 30 minutes. I love you.

Scarlett: I love you too. Drive safely.

And with that he hangs up. I wait nervously to hear that Y/n is back. I'm still worried she's going to have further damage to her neck. I know they said they don't think there is anything to untoward about it, but I can't get the worrying sick feeling out of my stomach.

"Mrs Johansson?" I look up and see Laura waiting hesitantly in the doorway. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Scarlett." I smile at her, opening my arms to her. She instantly moves forward and melts into my hug. "How is she?" She questions as we move to sit. I fill her in on everything the doctor said, and she listens intently.

"Do you know how hard it was not to go and punch that bitch in the face." She fumes after I explain the extent of her injuries. "I probably shouldn't admit this as the adult in this situation, but I feel the same." I admit to chuckles. "Did you win?" I ask and a smile grows on her face. "We scored two more goals. It was 4-0 in the end." She responds proudly. "Y/n will be happy." I say and Laura nods. "Turns out playing for a teammate helped us to play even better. We wanted to do our best for our captain." She explains.

Not too long later, Colin comes bursting through the door, giving both Laura and I a heart attack. "Jeeze Colin!" I scold, my hand clutching my chest as my racing heart starts to calm. "S-sorry. I was just worried." He apologises. "How is she?" He asks. "We've not heard anything more since I called you. They said it could be a little while whilst she has the different scans and x-rays." I reply.

"Where's Rose?" Colin asks when he notices it's just me and Laura in the waiting room. "With Lizzie. They're getting a bag together, so Y/n has some things with her. Rose is adamant about being here for her big sister." I explain, earning an aw from Laura. "I can ask your mom to come and collect her later and keep the kids over night until we know more." Colin suggests. "I think that'll be wise. Rose can see how Y/n is doing and head to mom's before bedtime." I agree.

Colin places a kiss to my head and moves to the other side of the room to call my mom and explain what has happened. She already has Cosmo today, so she's happy to take Rose too. Though she's concerned for her granddaughter too. I think Y/n is going to be spoilt when she's home.

When Colin joins us again, he takes the seat next to me and wraps a supportive arm around me. I move to rest my head on his shoulder, taking in his comfort. "She called me mom." I say quietly. "What was that?" Colin asks. "She called me mom. When she was on the field, she called me mom and then again in the ambulance and here in the hospital." I explain in more detail. "I'm sure it's just because she's in pain and on drugs but hearing her call me that, it made my heart almost burst." I share, my emotions building once again.

"She means it." Laura speaks up from beside me. Both Colin and I turn to look at her. "Yes, she's in pain and high right now. But she means it. This has just given her the outlet to be able to say it. You've given her a safe and loving environment. Yes, it's taken her a while to be able get to this point. But you never pushed her. I don't think you realise how much that means to her." She explains with a soft smile on her face.

"All I have wanted is to be the mother she deserves. I never thought that she would forgive me, let alone get to a point she could call me mom." I admit, tears welling up in my eyes. "Family of Miss Y/l/n?" A nurse enters the room and calls for us. The sound of Y/n's surname bringing me down for a moment. "You need to work on changing her name." Laura smirks at me as we stand and follow the nurse.

She takes us to a private ward where Y/n is laid in bed, her neck brace off. I breath a sigh of relief knowing there is no injury there. Laura rushes in first and carefully hugs Y/n, pressing a kiss to her lips. "I'm so glad you're ok. It was horrible seeing you out cold." She tells her, cupping her cheeks and gently rubbing her thumb over her cheek. "Did you win?" Y/n asks, making us laugh. "I see you have your priorities right." Laura chuckles. "And yes, we won 4-0." She adds on. "See you don't need me on the team." Y/n responds with a sad smile.

We all get comfortable and wait for the doctor to come in and tell us the severity of Y/n's injury. Laura sits on one side, holding Y/n's hand tightly, whilst Colin and I flank her on the other side. "Aren't you filming tonight?" Y/n asks Colin. "Not anymore, I have to been here for my daughter." He responds, his words causing a wide smile to appear on Y/n's face. "Thanks dad." Y/n responds, her eyes glossed over. "D-did you. Did you just..." Colin stutters in shock. Y/n nods, smiling nervously. "I hope you both don't mind me calling your mom and dad. My experience of parents hasn't a good one. I don't really know what a good mom and dad looks like. But I'm pretty sure it's the both of you. I've not been easy yet you've both been there for me, supporting me and loving me. Especially these last couple of weeks with the court case. To me you are my mom and dad." Y/n shares, making both Colin and I cry.

"Oh, my sweet girl. I have been waiting, hoping, you may one day see me as your mother. Hearing you call me mom, it's everything I could ask for." I reassure her as I hug her gently, placing a kiss to her head. Y/n then looks to Colin who's a blubbering mess, making us all laugh. "Like I said, I've seen you as my daughter from the beginning. Being your dad is an honour I'm glad you've allowed me to have." He expresses, getting up and hugging her also.

A clearing of a voice gets all of our attention, and our heads snap to see the doctor in the doorway a file in his hand. "Sorry to interrupt this moment, but I have Y/n's results." He explains. "Please come on in." Colin composes himself and moves back to his seat as the doctor enters the room.

"Ok, Y/n, having examined your scans, I'm happy to say there is no injury to your neck. Though you probably know that as we removed your brace." He starts off. "However, you do have a fractured eye socket, so that is going to look pretty nasty for a few weeks. There's not much we can do other than provide you pain relief and wait for it to heal." He explains and Y/n nods in understanding.

"Now, on to your leg." I feel Y/n's hand tense in my own as we wait to hear the damage. "You have a displaced transverse fracture to your tibia. This means that it's a complete break of the bone and the two parts are not aligned. In this instance, we will need to surgically realign your leg and put in some pins to secure the fracture, allowing it to heal effectively." The doctor explains, showing us the x-rays of Y/n's clearly broken leg.

Y/n's breath hitches at the news, tears filling her eyes. "Will I be able to play soccer again?" She asks, fear lacing her voice. At the vocalisation of her worries, Laura sits forward and holds her other hand tightly. "I have every confidence that with a successful surgery and physio, you'll be playing again." He responds with a smile. Y/n's whole body relaxes at the confirmation, but I know there is still one question on her mind. "How long until I can play again?" She asks him.

"You'll be in a cast for about 6 weeks and from there you'll start physio. I would guess that you could be back into light training within 8 weeks and playing within 10." He replies. "Wow, that's a long time." Y/n whispers, her head dropping. "You'd be back in time for playoffs." Laura tries to comfort her. "And we'll still need our captain. You're more than the player on the pitch Y/n." Laura reassures her, placing a kiss to her hand. She nods unsurely before the doctor goes into more detail about surgery and recovery.

She'll be going in for surgery in the morning as it's already late this evening. She has a temporary brace on her leg which will stop any more damage happening before they're able to surgically fix her leg. We thank the doctor who leaves us to it. "How are you feeling kiddo?" Colin asks, placing a hand on her uninjured leg. "10 weeks is a long time." She replies emotionlessly.

Soccer has been her saving grace these last two years. It's been an outlet whilst she's been going through so much, and it's suddenly taken away from her. I just hope that now she has a stable home, a loving girlfriend and family, that she won't lose herself.

A knock on the door gains our attention as we all giggle as we see Rose on her tiptoes trying to look through the window. I wave them in and Rose rushes to her sister's side. "Sissy! Are you ok?" Rose asks worriedly, trying to climb up onto the bed. Y/n leans forward to pick her up, but I tap her hand away and do it for her.

Rose is really careful as she sits next to Y/n staring at her now closed up eye. "I'm much better now my sister is here." She responds happily, a smile plastered on her face to hide her pain. "Auntie Lizzie told me that we can't bring your flowers, so I brought you chocolate instead. It's you're favourite." Rose shares, turning to Lizzie holding her hand out expectantly.

Lizzie chuckles and pulls out the chocolate bar from her bag and hands it's to Rose. "Yummy. Thank you, Rosie." Y/n responds, placing a kiss to her head. "That girl was mean. I hope she got told off and grounded for hurting you." Rose huffs snuggling into her sister. "Well, she was sent off and I can't imagine she'll get away without the ban being extended." Laura explains with an angry look on her face. I notice that Y/n reaches out and squeezes her hand in comfort, instantly calming down her fuming girlfriend.

"When can you come home?" Rose now asks as Lizzie makes herself comfortable. "We're not sure yet sweetie. Y/n has to have surgery tomorrow so probably a couple of nights." I explain, making Rose pout. "But I have school tomorrow." She complains. "That's ok Rosie. When I'm home we can have a movie day. Mom, dad, and Cosmo could join us too. What do you think?" Y/n suggests to help placate the 7 year old. "Can Laura come too?" Rose asks shyly. "Of course!" Y/n replies happily.

Lizzie's eyes go wide when she hears what Y/n called us as both Colin and I smile. Lizzie looks to me and I nod to confirm she heard correctly. "I'm happy for you." She mouths to me, not wanting to disturb the kids who are rambling about what movies to watch.

We spend the evening together, chatting and laughing. It's really nice, considering we're sat in a hospital room with my injured daughter laid up in bed. But as it hits 8pm, the nurse comes in and tells us that visiting hours are over. "Are you sure you're going to be ok on your own?" I ask Y/n, worried to leave her. "I can always talk to them about letting me stay." I offer but she shakes her head. "I'll be ok mom. I'm pretty tired so I'll probably get some sleep." She reassures me. "Ok, I'll have my phone on loud so if you need anything, just call or text ok. I can be here in 20 minutes." I tell her and she nods.

I bid her goodnight, leaving a soft kiss to her head, reminding her how much I love her. Colin does the same before picking up a sleepy Rose. We leave Y/n and Laura to have a moment before we all leave together. "Do you want me to drop Rose at your moms?" Lizzie offers, but I shake my head. "Thanks, but we'll go. I'd like to see Cosmo." I respond and she nods. "How about I drive you home. That way this lot can get back." Lizzie suggests turning to Laura.

She blushes at the attention making me smirk. She's totally fangirling right now! "Oh, you don't need to do that Ms Olsen." She declines. "Don't me stupid, come on. Besides it gives me a chance to get to know my niece's girlfriend." Lizzie insists, making Laura gulp a little. "Oh, and don't call me Ms Olsen. I'm not old. Please just call me Lizzie." She adds on, earning a slow nod from the teenager. We all walk out to the car park together and say our goodbyes before heading home.

__________

The next morning, Colin and I are at the hospital as soon as we're allowed so we can be with Y/n before she heads into surgery. She's in a lot of pain this morning and had a bad night sleep, which is horrible to see. I think she's grateful that she's going to be unconscious for a few hours whilst they fix her leg.

The surgeon comes in and talks through the procedure, though most of it goes over my head. I'm just grateful that it seems to be helping Y/n. The nurses are then in to prepare her before we walk with them as they wheel her to the operating floor. "We'll be right here when you wake. Rose and Laura will be here after school too, so you've got that to look forward to." I tell Y/n, hoping to comfort her when I see worry in her eyes. "We both love you very much. Everything is going to be just fine." Colin says, pressing a kiss to Y/n's head. "I love you both too. See you in a few hours." She smiles. I hold her close one last time and watch as they take her away. Colin wraps his arm around me to comfort me as we begin waiting for her to return.

Instead of waiting around in a cold room, we head to the cafeteria and have some breakfast. We both skipped it this morning, worried about Y/n. We talk about what we can do to make things easier for Y/n when she gets home. She's going to be reliant on us for a while and I want everything to be as easy as possible for her.

"Shit, we need to call Danny?" I suddenly say. "Why? You're not planning on suing the kid are you?" Colin jokes, making me roll my eyes. "No. But it's the court case in 9 days." I point out and he lets out a quiet "oh." I know she'll still be able to testify, but she's not exactly going to be very mobile and it's just something else to add on to a stressful period for her. "Danny will know what to do. He's always got Y/n's interests at heart. I'll call him when Y/n is out of surgery, and we'll leave him to deal with anything that needs doing." Colin reassures me.

After about three hours, we move back to Y/n's room to wait. They said surgery will be around 4 hours, and I we don't want to miss her coming back. We settle in and I makes sure her pyjamas are out as I know she'll want to change as soon as she can.

Half an our later a nurse comes by to say that surgery went well and she's just in post op now before they bring her back. I let out a sigh of relief knowing that everything is ok. We can focus on recovery.

Colin and I both crowd around Y/n when they bring her back in. She's still unconscious but the doctor said she should wake shortly. We take our seats either side of our daughter, holding her hands and taking comfort that she's back with us. When she starts to stir, I move to gently run my hands through her hair. "M-mom." She stutters at a whisper. "I'm here sweetheart. Colin is too." I greet her as her eyes flutter open.

I give her the biggest smile I can which she tries to return. Her head then flops to the side to see Colin. "Hey kiddo. Glad you're awake." Colin smiles to her. "Hi dad." She returns. I don't think either Colin or I are going to get used to that, but I will love hearing it every time. I will never take for granted any of my kids calling me mom.

The doctor comes in when Y/n is more with it, confirming that surgery went really well and that he's confident of a full and complete recovery. This relaxes Y/n and I notice that she's become determined to get fit so she can be ready for playoffs when they come around.

That afternoon Laura and Rose come to visit. Laura kindly picked Rose up from school for us. Mom is going to bring Cosmo around dinner time so we can have some family time together. But thankfully, the doctor confirmed that Y/n can come home with us tomorrow. I'm grateful that she won't be in this hospital for longer. I want my daughter home with us so we can all look after her. She's got a stressful few weeks ahead and we want to be by her side, supporting her, through all of it.

Part 10

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