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writersmacchiato · 7 months

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Todd can’t help the way he feels about you.

You’re kind to him, always nice, so patient. Never getting annoyed when he stumbles over his words or goes quiet as he gets lost in his head trying to think of the best response, forgetting to answer.

It’s why when he overhears your friend teasing you about a crush, his heart instantly sinks to his stomach, feeling sick, because there’s no doubt in his mind that it’s not him.

It could never be someone like Todd who would hold such attention from you.

Things like that didn’t happen to Todd.

He should leave it alone. He should forget he ever heard anything. He should really leave you alone, his senior of one year, and find friends his own age.

But he doesn’t seem to click with anyone else.

He felt desperately like a puppy scorned of any attention when you first smiled at him, all kind angles, nothing malicious in the way you talked to him so nicely.

You’re overcompensating, with your kindness. For all the bad things that have happened to you. You’ve let him into your life, sharing things that not a lot of your friend group knew (not that Todd knew this, to him it was common knowledge). And he’s surprised that your life isn’t perfect.

For all the shitty, horrible, terrible things that have occurred, you’re just as determined to be the opposite. To be a light instead of the darkness that is so easy to succumb to.

“I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up,” you whisper to him one night, sneaking away from the party with your lukewarm drink and his soda that’s beginning to taste flat.

Your head leans against his shoulder and he tries to breathe evenly, to be the perfect shoulder for you.

“I was really lonely. It felt like no matter what I did, I never fit in. People liked me, but no one wanted to be my best friend. So, I guess I never want anyone else to feel like that.”

Todd thinks about that night a lot. The weight of you against him, how the air was crisp, and the scent of your shampoo drifting into his senses.

He wonders if you’ve brought him into your circle out of pity. If you don’t see him as a friend, but as a past version of yourself laden with no friends. If you’re trying to reach into the past and rewrite the story. He doesn’t like to think about it too much because it hurts.

Really, he should try to spend less time thinking about you. But the more he tries to forget, the more he thinks.

He can’t stop thinking about the word crush. His dictionary has been opened to the C section so many times that it has a natural crease there now, flipping to the page as soon as he opens the book.

Crush: a strong but temporary feeling of liking someone.

It could be just a harmless tease from your friend. As far as he knows, there is no one who you could have a crush on. He watches you a lot, and there’s not a lot of people you spend frequent time with outside of your friends and him.

This endless thought that could be nothing that is leading him into a slow descent into obsession. It bothers him.

Someone who could yield your affections must be someone special, worthy of such attention.

But what if it’s not? What if it’s someone who wouldn’t be careful with your heart, wouldn’t take the time to learn the workings of your mind? What if your feelings are not temporary?

Todd loses sleep over it, worry gnawing at the edges of his thoughts until he’s become edgy.

You notice, of course, that Todd will withdraw into himself. With gentle coaxing, he’ll return but sometimes he stays stuck.

Lately he’s been stuck and nothing you’ve done has been able to break through.

He shocks you by finding you in the library, clearly still caught in the webs of his overthinking mind. Appearing normal as he pulls out a textbook and notebook, pen tapping against the palm of his hand.

The words blurt out of his mouth, rushed through in a painful exhale that sounds more breathy than he intended. He hadn't even meant to say that.

“You have a crush?” He asks.

And then stops, breath hitching, heart beginning to race.

He doesn’t want to know. Can’t bear to watch the way your lips form the name of someone who isn’t him.

Instead, you smile at him. Shrugging your arms and sighing.

“Not you too! Everyone is pestering me over it.” You avoid the question, Todd is quick to notice.

“I overheard Meeks.” Todd says.

“He’s such an instigator.” You roll your eyes.

Todd knows you well enough to know that you’ve purposefully not answered him. It brings a small flutter to his chest.

“Do you?”

It’s painful, to dig in and search for an answer that he know will hurt. Rubbing salt into the wound that is his aching heart. But he has to know. It’s like an itch he can’t reach.

“Yes, Todd, I do. Although calling it a crush is silly. It’s much stronger than that.” You say, very quietly.

Or maybe Todd can’t hear you well over the sudden rushing in his ears.

“Oh.” It’s all he can manage.

Crush, is simple and small. Temporary.

Stronger than a crush? Well. That’s not so simple or small.

“Todd, can you look at me?”

He can't. Eyes glued to the floor of the library, feeling his cheeks flush with warmth and his stomach twist into knots. Slippery and hot as he tries to calm the sudden urge to be sick.

You reach out to grab his clammy hands, giving them a firm squeeze. He manages to squeeze back.

“It’s okay, breathe.” You count out the breaths for him until they’re no longer shaky.

His cheeks are still flushed, but not with anxiety. Feeling the sweat on his neck begin to cool. Stomach settling.

“Todd, I really like you. A lot.” You grin. “I have a crush on you.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re you.”

Todd has another fitful night of sleep, but this time it's because he can't stop thinking about the moment in the library. Flushed with embarrassment, but also with a giddiness. Thinking of what you had said, to him alone and him only:

"I'm infatuated with you, Todd Anderson."

#todd anderson x reader #dead poets society x reader #dps x reader #todd anderson imagine #dead poets society imagine #dps imagine #dps #dead poets society #todd anderson #i dont even know if i like this anymore #but here have some writing!!!!!!!!!!!

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cherryheartssblog · 6 months

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MISTER SCARY KILLER

Summary: Y/N is a local senior at a college in California. Halloween is around the corner and there is a killer on the loose. For Y/N though everything is going quite perfectly, especially with her hidden relationship with her old high school teacher; Negan Smith. Things take a turn when Y/N's ex shows up letting his dark secrets unfold…

Warnings: SMUT, murder, blood, gore, partying, drinking, age gap ( the reader is 22-23 years old and Negan is in his 40s), jealousy, dom! Negan, smoking, drunk sex?, angst, death, sex in costume? (I think this is a warning-ish?), daddy kink!, secret relationship, mention of murder, description of murder scenes, horror movie junkie! reader, darker themes!, mentions of scream movies, cursing, submissive reader!, college partying, mentions of drugs, mentions of sex, and slight obsession.

A/N: My kinktober list will be linked soon, and each one is shorter stories, little quick one shots. This is based on a mood board I found on Tumblr. @dustbunniess There was a TikTok attached to it, this kind of intrigued me. This in no way is supposed to be offensive and to me is darker but kind of weirdly cute? (Like does not need to be real but I feel like there are people who understand). Boarder is by @saradika-graphics they are so cute go check out the page!

DAY ONE OF KINKTOBER

"What's your favorite scary movie?" Y/N's lips curled up, her legs crossed laying on the man's covered thighs beside her. The bowl of popcorn rested between them, she held the remote scrolling through the endless amount of movies. Negan chuckled at her question, rubbing her smoother bare legs across him. Negan scratched his beard, watching the movies she scrolled past. "What are you thinkin' of, doll?" The nickname she loved, doll. He loved to call her that, 'his little doll.'

Negan and Y/N's relationship started when she ran into him after high school the following year. Y/N was ending her junior year in a couple of months we she ran into him at a coffee shop close to her campus. Negan was her PE teacher back in school, she always thought the man was very attractive. She had been keeping her relationship hidden from others until after college, and Y/N felt like it was for the best.

Y/N did explore and she met a perfect boy, Jackson. He treated her with a lot of respect in the beginning, giving her every need. Jackson had his demons he was fighting when he dropped out of college leaving her with a text he was going off with some other woman. The text was super brief and almost got Y/N's best friend, Claire hunt him down herself. Y/N was heartbroken but later on in those few months, she ran into Negan Smith to come sweep her off her feet.

"Why not Halloween?" Y/N clicked, seeing the play movie sign; turning her head for Negan's approval, "Just in a couple of days, y'know." She playfully winked at him causing a deeper chuckle from the older man. "You're too cute," He complimented her, his hands riding up her leg more, "That's fine with me, doll."

The movie started uploading with a few commercials first, letting herself finally bring herself to bring up her costume to Negan. Y/N and Clarie were matching for their Halloween party at Claire's boyfriend's frat house party. They were having to keep the party a secret due to police curfew hours for high school and college students. Since the end of summer, a couple of murders have occured around her campus area.

The murders kept Y/N more behind closed doors, rather than Negan keeping his eye on her. When she was at classes, most of the time he was at work. She stayed with him in town in his apartment close to her campus, Y/N had everything perfect.

Mostly, everything was perfect until Jackson returned to school the following year. Y/N sadly had to share a class with him, she wanted to drop the class so bad. But she had to have the class to graduate, Y/N also hated she had to hide the fact she shared a class with her ex. Negan flipped out when he heard he came back to town.

'He is going to try to get in your pants, sweetheart.'

'If he comes near you, I will kill him."

Y/N heard him say that a few times these past few months, she did not know why but it sent a chill down her spine. At first, it seemed like a joke to her, how he would laugh afterward. The smile brightens his whole face up, his wrinkles showing on his face more. The more she heard it though, the more she got to see Negan it seemed a little bit more sinister.

She thought it was all in her head, but Y/N kept it brushed to the side of everything.

Y/N cleared her throat, sitting up a bit keeping the popcorn close to her. "I wanted to tell you about my costume." Y/N laid her hand on his, which was rubbing her thighs. She could have sworn she felt Negan's grip get tighter, "It's a really cute idea, I got it from Spirit last week."

"You in there every week, sweetheart." Negan commented, rolling his eyes playfully, "You drag me in there every date day since it's opened." Y/N threw popcorn at him, and he just picked the pieces up throwing them into his mouth. The Halloween movie credits started to play with the theme song blaring through the TV. "That is not the point, babe." She chewed her piece of popcorn, "Me and Claire are going to match at the party."

"What party?" His voice was stern.

Y/N rolled her eyes, this time she was more annoyed. She had a party conversation with him since the beginning of October. Y/N even invited him remembering his comment, "I do not want to party with a bunch of college kids."

"We have had this conversation, I even invited you and you told me you did not want to go." Y/N quickly threw back, laying the bowl on the floor. She pulled her legs away bringing them closer to her, Y/N tried to turn her attention towards the movie. Negan grabbed her legs making her squeal pulling her underneath him. Her arms were pinned in an instant behind her head, Negan was above her having her pinned beneath him. Y/N felt herself melt underneath him, his eyes burning through her own eyes. "Don't start with no attitude, princess," Negan whispered, his lips getting closer to hers. His hands gripping her wrist tighter, Y/N tried to fight the grip but he was too strong. She wiggled behind him, finally giving up as his eyes just stayed on her.

"What's the costume, doll?" Negan asked her, his face was straight and seemed emotionless. Her eyes scanned his features, she could not help but feel turned on in this situation. She loved his dominant side, how jealous he could be of her. Y/N would never cheat on Negan or do anything to hurt him in any way; in fact, she was thinking she was falling in love with him. She could not help though watching him squirm if he was getting jealous about her.

"Well," Y/N gulped down, trying to make herself comfortable with him, "Claire was going to be the devil and I was going to be an angel." Negan's face stayed emotionless for a moment, growing nerves in Y/N's stomach. Finally, Negan broke the sexual silence with a burst of amusing laughter. Y/N hated that she had that scratch sneaking up her back, an itch perhaps. Something about that laughter seemed darker than most of his, she seemed to have heard this before though. Y/N barely could put words to describe it, but still felt turned on by the man in front of her.

Negan lifted her causing her to gasp, his hands on her waist; her hands out of habit wrapped around his neck. Negan laid his forehead against hers, and Y/N felt his member grow underneath, pressing against her. She bit her lip, hearing the sounds of the movie playing behind her that they had not even got to watch.

"And I bet you're going to look hot as fuck? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" Negan questioned her, Y/N's mouth parted but she could not form words or a sentence to tell him what she thought. "Yeah, you'd look hot as fuck in anything, dollface." His lips brushed up her neck, causing her to moan out, "I guess you can go, only on one condition."

Negan grabbed her face, her cheeks squished up a bit. His other hands wrapped around her throat bringing her close. "What?" She croaked out, her lips teasing his own; brushing up against him. "If that Jackson shows up, you call me. If any guy messes with you, you call me." Negan was stern, he was serious. His eyes burned through her, she could have sworn she saw flames inside his eyes.

"Yes, sir."

Negan laughed as a dark, lustful chuckle came from his throat. He stalked closer to her still above her, eyeing the younger woman up and down hungrily.

“What do you want doll?” Negan asked her, his member growing more and more. "You want me to throw your legs over my neck and ruin you?" His words sent goosebumps down her spine.

“You can’t handle me, Negan. If anything, I’d ruin you." She blushed, keeping the wicked smirk on her face in front of Negan. Negan’s brows arch up in genuine surprise. Y/N was like Negan's prey and he was the predator, he wanted her desperately.

“That sounds like a challenge,” Negan says lowly. His eyes flick down to her, stopping at her lips. “Are you challenging me, darling?” Y/N was still pinned down, she felt her becoming wet in her sleep shorts. He turned her on so easily, anything this man did could get her going.

“Maybe. Are you up for it?”

“Oh, doll… you know I can fuck you any time of the day and any time of the week." Her shorts were pulled down as Y/N pulled at his loose sweatpants, getting him to remove his clothing. Negan's hands gripped her bare chest underneath her sweater. "You sure this party thing works out?" Negan wondered out loud, his fingers pressing against her bare clit. Her shorts were now on the floor, she never wore underwear at night usually just one of Negan's old shirts and shorts.

"Everything will work out." Y/N pulled the older man closer, pulling his boxers off next leaving him naked. The pulsing between her thighs grew stronger as his dark eyes stayed trained on her own.

“Look at you, being such a good girl for me already.” He smiled, rubbing her clit gently as she let out a slight moan. He pulled her close to him and ran his hands down Y/n's back, squeezing her plump ass roughly as he inhaled, she yelped as he landed a harsh slap to her bare ass.

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.” He smirked and pulled away from her, grabbing her hair tightly again.

“Now what the fuck do I do with you?” He mused. Y/N bit her lip pushing up wanting him inside of her already. He loved how desperate she looked beneath him, how her body was practically begging for it.

“You want it fuckin bad don’t you?” He moved to her breast, biting her nipple gently. Negan's hands were firmly under her ass. Everything about him was intoxicating, his mouth, his tongue, the way his beard felt on her bare skin. “Fuck that’s a pretty fuckin pussy.” He murmured as he ran a finger through her glistening folds, “Damn, you’re so wet for me already.” Y/N moaned out, her head digging deeper into the couch, the movie she had forgotten about playing behind them. Her body jolted as she moaned, hips searching for more release. He chuckled,

“Yeah…you’re gonna be coming for me real soon.” Negan's member teased her entrance, she choked out a loud moan. “Oh my God.” It came out in a broken whine as he stretched her, impaling her with his cock. Negan groaned lowly in her ear, holding the ends of the couch. He started to thrust in and out of her slowly. “You’re fucking tight baby.” Y/N could only respond with moans as he started to fuck her even faster, hitting deep inside of her. He wrapped her legs around his waist letting himself be deeper inside of her. Y/N kept choking on her moans, her nails digging into the couch fabric.

She loved how rough he was. Y/N loved the urgency and power of his thrusts as he fucked deeper into her than she thought possible. Negan's nails kept digging into her ass. "Go faster Negan please." She begged practically screaming for the neighbors to hear.

"You're mine." He growled in her ear, his thrust causing her eyes to roll back of her head, "I would do anything for you."

“Negan.” Y/N whined as he let her back down on the couch “I’m-oh fuck.” She couldn’t even finish your sentence because Y/N was already coming.

“Good fucking girl.” He moaned as he pulled her back on his dick roughly, one of her legs resting on his shoulders up high. “Come on my fucking cock, just like that.”

She whimpered at him that he was satisfied with her, how much he loved to take care of her. His thrusts started to get sloppier and Y/N could tell he was chasing his orgasm. “I want your come so bad.” Y/N moaned, she begged him feeling his cock twitch inside of her. She could feel her pussy throb around him as she could feel another orgasm building up in her stomach.

Negan kept viciously thrusting as he sent her over the edge again. This time Negan came with her, moaning loudly into her neck as he came deep inside of her. Y/N's body shuddered and shook as she came from her second orgasm.

"Everything will work out." She breathed out.

Y/N adjusted her angel wings attached behind her, she had her full costume on ready to go with Claire who was taking millions of selfies in the bathroom. Negan was at a late practice for his football players so it gave the girls time to get ready at their apartment since it was closer to the party. "We are ditching if cops show!" Y/N yelled over to Claire her exiting the bathroom, she laughed rolling her eyes playfully. Claire was in a fierce matching red costume like Y/N's, instead of wings and a crown she had devil horns and a tail. "You look so hot, you're telling me Negan is not going to join ya?" She winked, he can wear a mask like I said no one would know." Y/N smirked at her comment going to answer her when her phone began to ring. The younger woman reached for it believing it was Negan seeing the caller ID, unknown.

Her eyebrows furrowed, feeling a familiar pit in her stomach start to grow. Y/N denied the call, tossing the phone on her bed and turning her attention back to the mirror continuing to adjust the revealing costume. "Who was that, Y/N?" Claire's curiosity grew looking at the phone lying on the bed, she had a smirk on her face thinking it was Negan herself. "Unknown caller, probably telemarketers," Y/N pulled her gloves up her arms, "They've been more annoying these past few days." Claire pulled her phone out while Y/N glanced over seeing her pop open her camera, "No, no pictures please." Y/N begged as Claire was already taking pictures of her, Y/N fighting to cover her face as she was laughing. "Oh come on, you look cute." Claire teased her friend, pushing her hands away from her face, "We never take pictures anymore."

Y/N finally gave in putting her hands down, giving a smile at the camera, Claire and her started to make funny faces causing the girls to laugh. They had been friends ever since high school, she knew about her and Negan's relationship a few months after it started. Y/N only trusted her, she knew she would keep it a secret even her boyfriend Ted. "Come on, let's head on over." Claire squealed, putting her phone away and nudging Y/N to follow her out. "Let me text Negan we are leaving, we can just stay a couple of hours." Y/N pointed her finger sternly at her party animal-like friend.

The two friends headed out getting into Claire's car, the entire time she could have sworn she felt eyes on them. She peered over her shoulders seeing no one in the dark or even the dark corners.

The party was already pretty crowded once they arrived. The frat party was located at Ted's uncle's cabin deeper in the woods. There were a lot of people drinking and doing drugs that she did not even know the names of. She stuck away from that just to drinking, maybe a smoke of a blunt or a hit from a bong would not be bad.

Claire and Y/N had been there a couple of hours staying near each other with their drinks in hand. They danced all over each other, talking to each other's friends and classmates. Y/N was feeling pretty tipsy already with her fifth drink in hand. She drank her vodka-mixed drink grinding on her friend behind her to the music. Negan sent her a text just to behave and call him if she needed anything. He trusted her enough to take care of herself, she knew if she needed him she would call right away. "That guy across the room has not taken his eyes off you," Y/N yelled at her friend loud enough for her to over the music, dancing with her. Claire pivoted her hand towards the male staring at her and raising his drink in her direction. "Go, I will be okay, I will find Jess," Y/N reassured her, Jess was one of their older roommates from their freshman year in college.

Claire was a little hesitant, she knew the guy from a few of her classes but did not want to leave her best friend high and dry. "No, we promised each other," Claire whined a little, seeing the guy smirk at her; his eyes scanning over her. "If you do not go Claire, I will push you over there myself." Y/N gave her a slight nudge, causing Claire to giggle. "I will call you in a couple of hours, I promise." Claire quickly kissed her cheek, going over to greet the eyeing man. Y/N pushed through the crowd, keeping her eyes peeled for her friend Jessica around. She could feel her phone buzz, tucked away in her bra. The buzzing continued, and she realized she was getting a call. Y/N pulled the phone from her cleavage seeing an unknown caller again, they’d been calling for days. Y/N finally had enough getting upstairs to a quieter place, swiping left quickly answering the phone.

“Look I don’t know who this is but please stop calling,” Y/N had her phone lingering over the red button to end the call when she heard her name being called over the phone.

“Hello, Y/N.” The voice seemed static, but deeper male voice. Y/N's face fell, and her finger tightened around her phone. She quickly looked around her surroundings seeing a few people chatting a drinking; some making out. “Who is this?” Y/N questioned, Deep down she hoped this was all some Halloween prank.

She hated the gut feeling she had.

Just when she turned back around she bumped right into someone, and her phone fell to the ground. Y/N eyes moved up seeing the taller man in front of her, Jackson. She tended up quickly grabbing her phone from the ground seeing the caller had hung up, Jackson smirked filled with wickedness. He eyed the angel in front of him, and Y/N stepped back away from him. “What the hell are you doin’ here?” She growled, eyeing him up and down, himself in a simple cop costume, “Ted does not like you, so I know he did not invite you.” Jackson just chuckled at the younger woman walking around her, Y/N’s eyes followed his movements. His hands rested in his pockets, Y/N thought she saw something inside his pockets hiding away with his hands. Her eyes moved up to him, being closer to her now.

“If there is a party, you know I have to be a part of it.” Jackson reminded her, he was known for being parties. They were always doing something with each other going to parties and living it up to the fullest. Y/N rolled her eyes crossing her arms, her phone in hand, “You look good, Y/N. I want to talk to you.” Y/N tried to walk away feeling his hand pull her back, she gasped in disbelief. Luckily half the people at the party were downstairs, the people upstairs kept their attention to themselves. Y/N tried to fight his grip, feeling Jackson pull her closer. “You shouldn’t be out with a killer on the loose,” Jackson's lips curled, and the younger woman pulled her arm from his grip. “You can fuck off Jackson,” Y/N hissed, “You lost every right to control me when you fucked other women.” Y/N was loud causing a few stares to peer over at them and a few whispers lingering around them. Y/N did not even have time to hear what he had to say or even the look on his face he may have had. She quickly went to an empty bathroom, locking the door behind her.

She pulled her phone out, scrolling to Negan’s contact to call him bringing the phone to her ear and hearing two rings before he was quick to pick up. “Ready to leave already, doll?” Negan picked up the phone, feeling like nothing was wrong with his girl. He sat on the couch with his sweatpants on watching one of the newer Scream movies, one of his favorites. “No, Jackson is here,” she heard pure silence over the phone not even his breath, “He fucking grabbed me and..” Y/N was cut off by him, “I’m on my way.”

Before she could even protest, he hung up the phone as she stared at her screen in shock. Y/N debated on calling him back but she knew nothing would change his mind coming up here, he was a very stubborn man. The young woman shoved her phone back in her strapless bra underneath her costume, eyeing herself in the mirror. She fixed her crown, adjusting it as straight as it could be. She groaned out, debating on even going back to the party or just keeping herself hidden in the bathroom. The music echoed out from the bathroom, voices muffled out passing the door. Y/N just sucked it up, letting herself out of the bathroom and getting past people down the stairs, her buzz fading away from running into Jackson getting her adrenaline up and taking any fun she had away.

Y/N once again felt her chest buzz again from her phone, from an incoming call again. “Negan look, just come me and we will leave.” She answered, yelling more for the man to hear her; not even looking at the ID. “I don’t think it’s time to leave my Y/N.” A familiar voice rang in her ear, that same static voice moments ago. In the crowd, Y/N saw a scream mask. She took a look again making sure she saw correctly not seeing the banned mask anymore. Ever since the killings they banned the costume from Halloween this year since the killer was rumored to dress like the fictional character. The man she thought she saw was dressed in all black with the mask, she kept her eyes peeled for more. Y/N tried to keep telling herself this was all a Halloween prank, of course, someone would show up in a costume like him.

Y/N pushed the phone closer to her ear to hear the man behind the phone more. “I want to play a little game, doll.” Her eyebrows furrowed at the nickname, making her feel sick to her stomach. Y/N stopped in her tracks trying to go to a more secluded area, to be able to talk better. “Who the fuck are you?” Y/N was scared, with everything going on in town, someone could be after her next. “The game is not asking questions here, Y/N.” The darker voice chuckled at the end, her stomach twisted stopping in her tracks and seeing the man in the mask once again in the crowd. “What do you want?” She quickly asked, keeping her eyes on the ghost face costume disappearing right in front of her eyes again.

“I think you know exactly what I want,” He told her, the voice was not static anymore. Y/N recognized the voice instantly making her nauseous. The fear kicked in quickly and everything just rushed over her, “I’ve been wanting your attention so long, Y/N.” The young girl turned around running right into the ghost face costume she’d been seeing, her phone still pressed against her ear. Y/N took off running beside him outside to the backyard, they had a bunch of activities going outside out there. A smaller haunted house, a few drinking games, and people partying in the people with the temperature even a little lower for the fall weather. She quickly ran into the haunted house they had set up hearing a scream in the distance as she entered. Bunches of ugly Halloween decorations hung up in this side pool house they were using. Most of the people dressed up in scary costumes just jumping out in corners with a bunch of Halloween decorations in every corner; some popping out on their own. Y/N tried to get Negan to pick up his phone, but it kept going straight to voicemail. Her eyes were tearing up, she realized how much of a bad idea it was just to run straight here. She was terrified to tell anyone, she did not know where any of her friends were.

An animatronic popped out at her causing her to scream, as it pulled back in away from her. Creepy music played around her, she felt tears jerking at the ends of her eyelashes. In a longer hallway, someone jumped out at her wrapping their arms around her. Y/N screams were muffled covering her mouth with his black glove she eyed. The younger woman tried to fight back seeing in the mirror above her, that the attacker was the ghost face from earlier. She pushed him off, taking off running as he grabbed her longer hair hanging down. She squealed out in pain, Y/N was pulled back and slammed to the floor knocking the crown from her head off. Y/N looked up from the ground, a knife in hand he pulled his mask off revealing his face.

Jackson breathes out, throwing the mask on the floor behind him. He wiggled the knife in front of her face as she lay on the ground still in shock even though she recognized the voice. Jackson brought a smaller device to his lips, keeping the evil smirk plastered on her face.

“Surprise, Y/N.” The static voice rang in her ears, she tried to crawl away to stand up being pulled by him. Y/N cried out but most would think it was just screams from the scary haunted house she was in. “You can not appreciate anything I do for you, huh?” He questioned her, fighting against the slaps and kicks she gave him from the ground, “I’ve done all this for you, but you decide fucking some old man is better.” Jackson swiped his knife in front of her and she jumped back, kicking him right in the stomach. Jackson’s hands shot up to his stomach, groaning out in pain. Y/N took her chance again getting up and taking off running, her heels slowing down her runs ending up tripping her in a darker bedroom area.

Y/N cried out in pain, landing on the floor and seeing a bed with a fake dead person on the bed with flashing lights around her. Y/N heard Jackson’s voice behind her, trying to lift herself but her legs were hurting pretty badly from the fall. “I loved you Y/N, I know I was not perfect but I wanted you.” He flipped her over from her belly, holding her leg where she could not go anywhere from him. Jackson’s grip was strong, leaving a bruise around her ankle from his grip, “If I can’t have you Y/N no one can.” Jackson was now on top of her having her pinned against the ground, she tried to scream out throwing punches at him. His knife was held high about to be shoved right in her chest, she did not even have time to blink when she saw a knife go through Jackson’s chest.

He let out a gasp, blood splattered on Y/N’s tear-stained cheeks. The blade went all the way through, his hands were shaky going up to the blade as he fell over. Gushing out blood, he kept coughing on the blood the knife pushing more as he was lying on the ground forcing it too. Y/N stayed in a state of shock watching her ex’s eyes go grey slowly, watching the life slowly get sucked away from his body.

Y/N eyed up at her savior seeing another ghost face costume, she slowly stood up mascara going down her cheeks. Her own hands were shaky, continuing to hear Jackson’s coughs. They stayed still in front of her, letting the younger woman’s hands reach up towards them. Y/N slid the mask off, keeping it in her hands. Letting herself see Negan’s face, Tears were still pouring down, her eyes were still full of them when she instantly pulled him in for a kiss.

Blood still stained her, wrapping her arms around the older male. She kept the mask in hand, dragging her teeth against his lips.

“Oh no, mister scary killer don’t kill me..” Y/N playfully begged, she knew she was a little crazy. Negan loved it, biting her lip and pulling it between his teeth.

“God, that was so hot,” Negan moaned, he placed his lips against her neck, Y/N kept her neck exposed letting her eyes roll to the back of her head, “He’s finally gone.” She couldn’t stop laughing, looking over now at her lifeless ex’s eyes. Negan looked down at her, holding her chin high. “Isn’t it perfect? Such a perfect cover-up killing the actual killer.” Negan wiped the blood from her cheeks, “We need to get this cleaned up, doll.” Y/N bit her lips, throwing the mask down and shrugging her shoulders slightly. “I don’t know, maybe we could slide in a quickie.” Y/N batted her eyelashes innocently, “Next time I get to wear the mask.” She slammed her lips onto his, Negan knew she was far from innocent she was mad just like him.

They were made just for each other and no one was going to get in the way of that.

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pink-princess-pussy-pop · 1 year

Text

Scream for Me - Rafe Cameron Ghostface! x reader PART 1

Warnings: none

Scream For Me Masterlist

"I'm thinking about not letting her go to school tomorrow!" You could hear your parents, most likely talking about the recent serial murders occurring throughout the Outerbanks. Even though the killer seemed to be a bit of a slacker, the police had no leads on who it could be.

"Honey, we can't just keep her home! Besides, he's only killed at night, she'd be perfectly safe."

"How do you know it's a he?"

"I don't know honey, but there isn't anything we can do."

As you listened to your parents talk about the OBX killer, your nerves settled in your stomach. You didn't want to be out and about while there was a serial killer on the loose, but what could you do? Senior year of high school with only three weeks left of the year? That would not be ruined by some asshole with a knife and anger issues. You walked down the stairs, which silenced your parents, putting an end to the conversation.

...

"So who do we think it is." You were sitting at lunch with your friends, and the hot April weather called for more relaxed uniforms and unbuttoned shirts. Kenzie, your friend was fanning herself with her homework while sipping on her water. Her question made your face scrunch.

"Why do we have to talk about this?"

"C'mon, don't you have your theories?" She leaned closer to you. "I think it's one of the pogues. If he's only killing kooks, it has to be, right?" Your eyes roll in response.

"Kenz, I don't know." You continue eating your lunch.

"You're no fun."

...

Later that day you and Kenzie went to the country club to work on homework. It seems all she could talk about was the OBX Killer.

"The victims have all been rich guys who have done terrible things. Arnold Norris was stealing money from his company, Andrew Williams had several affairs, Thomas Carlson did-"

"Kenz, calm down! You're almost yelling!" Her face flushed as she glanced around the country club, meeting the eyes of a few curious patrons.

Including the OBX Killer himself, Rafe Cameron. He was lounging at the bar with his friends, acting like he was getting increasingly drunk along with them but had secretly been listening to your conversation for the past several minutes. He grinned to himself, your little friend was acting like such a sleuth and hadn't even thought that a kook could be the killer at school earlier either.

Yes, Rafe had been listening closely to that conversation as well. In fact, he was always keeping tabs on you. He shared many classes with you and had always been drawn to you, though he didn't know why.

But he didn't want to kill you.

He had his reasons for the murders. All of the men deserved it.

He wanted you for different reasons. Rafe decided he would make his first move tonight.

...

Your parents were working late and you were alone in your house. The music playing from your phone drowned out any noises from outside. The pasta cooking on the stove was almost finished when the music cut out and your phone started ringing.

The number was blocked but you thought nothing of it until you heard the distorted voice on the other side.

"Hello, sweetheart." As soon as you heard it, your heart stopped, the wooden spoon you were holding clattering to the floor. "Didn't mean to scare you." You were stunned.

Out of all the people in the Outerbanks, all of the big businessmen, why were you the next victim? Your hands were shaky as you glanced around your home. Searching through the night to see if you could see him. See anything.

"Trying to find me?" The laugh that rang out chilled you to the bone. "You're adorable." The condescending words did nothing to appease your fear. "Why are you so scared?"

"Why me?" The silence on the other end is loud. "All of your other victims have been men who've done awful things. So why-"

Rafe cuts you off.

"Who said you were my victim, sweetheart? You're my new friend."

It's your turn to be speechless.

The distorted voice begins again.

"Unless you tell the cops about our little conversation, then you'll be my victim. Do you understand, Y/N?" Something about him saying your name makes you agree right away.

"I understand."

The laugh rings out again before he speaks one more time.

"Talk to you tomorrow, sweetheart."

Then, the low beep of the line disconnecting fills your ears.

Rafe Taglist: @iameatingmyhair @cherrrywraith @lil2023 @lcvrsheart @sophiah2253 @mila1224 @iamlilykrav @emotionalldamage @earthruled @bluuuughh @sunsetargent @kingedmund007 @iluvbunnyhops @steveharie @rafelover @tarrenshayne @stcrkeyluvr @idktheusual @eddiemunson86 @taylorswiftloversera @wh0r3-for-klaus @housekeeperjjswife @wildwallflower24 @poge-life @fuckmelikestilesstilinski @user556677889900 @lonnielain @sachaa-ff @xhaliemax @kravitzwhore @coryisagee @multidimensionalslut @fratboyharrysgf0201 @iheartthe90s @settingmoxn @lewisroscoelove @hannahxhoney @iluvcatslolol @x2skyler @user36376373 @kkmstblog @kinokorii @pickingviolets @somebodys-enola

I'm so so sorry that this took so long, I've been going through it mentally and had no time to write. I'll roll these out as quickly as possible.

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rendy-a · 3 months

Note

Could I request a self aware twst au with like the first years :D?

I want to thank all the people who interacted with that post earlier today. It gave me enough motivation to go out and finish this piece.

While trying to think up concepts for this work, it occured to me that all the first years (except Ortho) were in sports clubs. That means there is one event perfect for you to bond with your first year friends.

Ace kicks a pile of canvas laying in a heap at his feet, “This is ridiculous! What if something happens while we’re gone!” His mouth twists into an unpleasant grimace. He looks to his basketball club members for backup, but no one will meet his eye. So, he turns to where he knows he’ll find support. “Oi, Sebek!” The green haired fae is distractedly pounding away at a tent stake nearby but it is easy to see from his expression that his heart isn’t in it. “What happens if someone tries to kidnap the Player when we aren’t there to protect them? You know how famous they are!” Sebek stops hammering and slowly looks up, tears forming in his eyes.

“SILVER! SILVER!” he shouts to his clubmate, “What if I’m not there to protect the Player! Forget this event, we must return to the school with ALL HASTE!” He looks to his fellows for support but again, none of the senior students stop what they are doing. Ace, however, is fast to abandon his own camping site and join Sebek. “Right, right?” he eagerly urges Sebek on, “What does this even matter if our Player isn’t here to see it?”

“Stop it,” the sturdy voice of Jack growls, “It doesn’t pay to get worked up over it. This is in the story, so we have to do it. That’s just how it is.” Sebek stares at the wolf beastman silently, tears falling from his eyes. “Maybe we can tell them about it later!” Deuce tries to cheer his fellow freshman up, “I’m sure they’d like to hear about it. They always listened to my card stories before…well before it happened. I think they’d like to hear about this too!” At that Sebek seemed mightily cheered and returned to setting up his tent with gusto, muttering about what he’d tell the Player about later. Ace scoffs, sensing his defeat and returns bitterly to his own site.

Epel wanders over and observes Ace silently. “You finished?” Ace asks in surprise. “Yeah, Leona is a great leader and took charge of getting us set up right away!” Epel informs him, “I had time to put up my tent and help Ruggie set up one for Leona too!” Then he looks down and kicks Ace’s sad abandoned tent as well, “I just wish the Player was here to see it. I bet they’d have been really impressed with how fast I finished.” Ace frowns and complains, “But they aren’t here. They are back at school with the Arts Clubs.” This causes Epel to scowl deeply, “Dagnabit! I didn’t need a reminder of that! I can just picture those frou-frou artsy types trying to suck up to the Player. Trying to get them to talk different, eat different, just…” He doesn’t finish the thought but the way he grinds his teeth shows how he feels about the idea.

The sound of pounding tent stakes and shifting canvas is diminished when the booming voice of Coach Vargas booms out, “Listen up, young campers! Now, I know you don’t need any additional motivation to showcase your strength and fortitude here after I’ve done an AMAZING job setting up this EXCITING AND ENTERTAINING EVENT!” Here he pauses and casts a quick look over his shoulder before straightening up again. “But if you do!” Then he smiles a beaming smile and sets his hands on his hips. That’s when you pop out from behind him, “Hey guys! Guess who’s here to do their memory keeper duties!”

Ace jumps over his canvas pile in a rush to get to your side and stumbles over it. “Woah, calm down,” you admonish him cheerily, “I’ll be here all weekend.” Epel asks in an innocent sounding voice, “You will? You really will?” You pat the two boys on the shoulder and search out your other first year friends in the crowd. Sebek is sobbing quietly in front of his tent and Deuce is waving excitedly from the distant track club area. Jack gives you a small nod before turning back to his area as though he is unaffected by your appearance, but the cloud of dust kicked up by his wagging tail says otherwise.

You turn toward Vargas and look expectantly. He looks blankly back at you until you awkwardly say, “Go on.” He looks at you a moment before clearing his throat, “Ah yes, yes. Harumph! Anyway, tents are up! Get over here and listen up for your next task!” Then he looks at you as though seeking your approval to hand out the task. You shrug and then nod as though to say, ‘Sure, go for it.’ Vargas gives you a toothy smile and then proceeds to hand out a familiar sounding explanation about the tasks to be assigned to the clubs. You wave lightly before heading back to the cabin to get your own things sorted out. The eagerness of the students fades as fast as your departure.

“So…,” Deuce begins carefully, “We are going to try now? Right?” He looks at Ace for confirmation. Jack snorts behind him, “I was always going to try.” Then he makes a fist and puts on an eager smile, “I’m going to knock this challenge out so fast that the Player can’t help but notice me!” Deuce turns away from Ace to join Jack instead. The two Track Club members fire each other up over their plans to dominate the camp tasks and stand out to the Player. Deuce quickly becomes so distracted by this that he forgets Ace entirely. This is just the chance Ace has been waiting for to quietly slip away.

“So, Prefect,” Ace begins as he appears at your side. You yelp and drop your backpack, catching it before it hits the ground and damages your precious ghost camera. “Ace!” you shout, “What are you doing here? This isn’t in the event!” He looks at you quietly and you quickly backtrack, “I…I mean, shouldn’t you be with the Basketball Club doing…something?” Ace smiles, happy to have avoided an awkward situation. “Nah, I’m not going to mess around in the woods. It’s a team effort, so as long as those other guys do the grunt work, I’ll be fine.” You roll your eyes at his attitude. “Plus, why would I want to be anywhere but with my best buddy, eh Prefect?”

You consider this carefully before slyly narrowing your eyes and gesturing to your unbuilt tent. “Sure, thing, Pal. Why don’t you hang out and help me build my tent.” Ace grimaces, not wanting to do the work but mostly afraid you’ll pick up on his lack of tent-building expertise. The odd standoff is concluded when you hear Coach Vargus bellow, “Nonsense! That won’t do for either of you! I can hardly deprive the Prefect of the chance to enjoy this stimulating muscle-building activity and as for you Ace, well, you are just slacking off.” Ace starts to stammer as you just stand there cringing. Coach Vargus calmly approaches Ace and lifts him up by his collar. It reminds you of how you lift a misbehaving Grim by the scruff of his neck. You wave awkwardly at the departing Ace as he looks imploringly at you from the Coach’s grasp. ‘Oh well, you reap what you sow,’ you think.

A tiring amount of time later, you brush your hands off on your thighs and declare, “There, done!” Then you slowly head over to grab your pack holding the Ghost Camera, among other supplies. The sun is barely at its peak, but you are already sweating with exertion from putting up the tent. You wonder how your more athletic friends among the first-year students are handling it. You know they are more used to the effort, but you hope they are taking necessary precautions. Perhaps you’d just remind them and see if they need to borrow some sunscreen.

You know realize that sunscreen was the least of your safety concerns. You watch in disbelief as Sebek continues to scale a sheer cliff in search of a lantern blossom flower. The reaction of the nearby students was mixed. Silver seemed remarkably unconcerned as he spoke to Riddle nearby. Meanwhile, you and several NPC characters were more nervous. “He is going to fall, isn’t he?” you ask the nearby Scarabia A. He looks at you for a long moment and then shrugs his shoulders. You are not reassured at all.

You turn instead to Ignihyde C and gesture, “This game doesn’t have a mature rating, so he can’t die. Right? Right?” The surprised student looks at you with his mouth falling open before he stammers, “R.right.” Then he looks up at the precarious position of the green haired fae and mumbles, “But maybe you should cheer him on anyway.” You look more intently at the NPC and demand, “Do you think that would help?” He answers you in a fluster, “W..well, if my oshi…I mean friend…if my friend cheered me on, I think it would really help me do my best!”

Right. That is just the sort of thing friends do. “HEY SEBEK!” you shout. The fae somehow hears you shout and looks arrogantly over his shoulder at the spectators but when his eye catches your form, he shakes, and you fear he will tumble from the cliff. “HOLD ON SEBEK, YOU CAN DO IT! I BELIEVE IN YOU!” From even the great distance between you, the image of determination that crosses his expression can be seen. He sets off with a renewed vigor, making daring transitions and finding ways to make speedy progress. With several movements that make you gasp and hold your breath; he reaches the lantern blossom and plucks it from the ground.

Much faster than the ascent, Sebek’s return to the ground was accomplished quite shortly. He was still a considerable distance up when he leaps from the cliff edge to race to your side and show off his prize. He eagerly holds out the glowing lantern blossom for you to view. “Its so pretty,” you comment politely, “I wish I had one.” He gasps and grabs hold of your hand, forcing the poor battered flower into it. “THEN YOU MUST HAVE THIS ONE!” You give him a shocked look, “No really, that is unnecessary. I’ll get one some other day.” He smiles at you smugly, “No need Prefect. Any time you need a lantern blossom, I will fetch one for you.” You guiltily hold out the flower to one student after another, but no member of the Horseback Riding Club will take it from you. “Prefect,” Riddle finally says in a commanding voice, “Its rude to return a gift. We are more than capable of retrieving another lantern blossom.” Sebek and Silver nod in agreement, backing up the Dorm Leader. You think it’s time to go before you cause this club any more trouble. You make your excuses and dash off to the lake.

As you part a pair of branches and emerge from the forest at the lake’s edge, you catch sight of some members of the Spelldrive Club nearby. Ruggie seems to be fishing up a storm while your first-year friend Epel watches from nearby with his own pole. “See,” Ruggie tells his underclassman, “That’s how its done. Now in return for that free lesson, how about you show me what you learned by catching enough fish for the rest of the club! Shishishi!” You roll your eyes at the obvious attempt to foist the work off onto Epel but are surprised with your friend shouts “YES SIR!” with enthusiasm. You catch Ruggie’s eye and give him a quiet tsk tsk which only earns you a mischievous wink before the hyena beastman set’s off toward camp.

You slowly saunter over to Epel, who is fully engaged in his fishing. “So, got a plan?” you asked over his shoulder. “Eh!?” he gasps and drops his pole, “Player! I..I mean Prefect! It’s you! Ya’ had me surprised outta my skin there!” You give him an apologetic smile. Epel stoops down to retrieve his pole and shyly replies, “My plan is just to catch the fish. I’m not going to give up until I’ve caught at least a dozen!” Then he holds up his arm and bends it at the elbow, giving you a little flex to show off his determination. You hold in a laugh, “Well, if you are that fired up, why stop at only one dozen?”

Epel’s eyes go wide for a moment and then he gets a maniacal grin. “Yeah! You’re right! I’m going to catch you at least two dozen fish! Or maybe three or four!” You know Epel is not the type to break his word, so you quickly interrupt to calm down his ambitions, “One dozen is enough! I was just joking.” You wave your hands toward the ground as though to say, let’s lower our expectations. Epel frowns and mutters under his breath, “That isn’t going to impress anyone.” Then he looks at you determined, “Just wait and see! I’ll catch plenty of fish so don’t go eat’n with any other club! When tha fish are in tha bag, I’ll make ya Gram’s special fish stew!”

As Epel gets to work, casting his line and reeling in the lure, you sit beside him on a rock. When the time seems right, you snap a picture of him eagerly lifting a small fish from the lake on his line. “There you go! One down!” you say as you transfer the ghost camera to your elbow and give him a small clap of encouragement. He preens a short second before frowning down at the small fish. “Tha’ next ‘un will be twice as big!” he shouts in determination before casting his line again.

True to his prediction, soon Epel gets a tremendous tug on his pole. You both shout and leap to your feet at the strength of the fish that appears to be on the line. “WOAH!” Epel shouts. You lean over the edge of the lake, trying to see the monster fish Epel has snagged. Epel too seems interested in his opponent and plans one foot firmly while leaning forward to stare intently where his line entered the lake. With a sudden flash, a scaled hand emerges from the lake to grab the tip of Epel’s rod and tugs Epel, pole and all, into the lake. You quickly slide back as far more of Floyd emerges from the lake. He gives you a toothy smile before his trademark laugh emerges and he returns to the lake. Epel does not immediately surface, and you are concerned for a moment before you spot him further down the shore. Though he has concealed himself behind a log, you can tell his ears are flushed with embarrassment. You kindly decide to give him his space.

Halfway to camp, your stomach begins to growl. You thought sadly about Gran’s special fish stew, now beyond your reach. You hoped that you’d manage to sweet talk some fish off someone. They were your friends, so someone is bound to share, right?

The size of Deuce’s eyes when you asked him sweetly if he’d share his food with you rivaled that of the empty plate you held out to him. “Please?” you finish your plea for lunch. Deuce flushes and quickly removes his pack from his shoulder, pulling out a fairly large fish. “No problem, Prefect, I’ve got enough for two here!” You make a little gesture to celebrate your victory and compliment him, “Yeah! Great job catching such a big fish. It looks so huge, I bet its even enough for three people!” Immediately Deuce denies this, “NO! NO, IT’S NOT!” When you pull back in surprise, Deuce continues in a softer voice, “I…I mean this one is just perfect for two. It…its just meant for us. To share. Together.”

You hold up your hands and agree, “Sure, sure. Just you and me. I get you.” Deuce seems so very pleased by your response that you decide to just let his strange response slide. Plus, you need him to cook that fish. “So…what are you making? You know, just for us to share?” you ask as you saddle up to his side? Deuce looks back and forth between you and the fish, “I sure know how to cook this. Yup, I really do.” Your mouth falls into a little O and then you glare at him suspiciously, “Deuce, do you know how to cook fish?” He doesn’t meet your eye but assures you that Trey taught him some recipes. You still have your suspicious but figure if it was a Trey recipe, it would be alright.

“So, what do we do?” you ask Deuce. He looks at you with a dreamy expression, “We? You’re going to cook with me?” You shrug your shoulders, “I mean yeah, that’s how Trey’s recipes are, right?” Then you lean in close and whisper, “Like…Like in the game when we made that chestnut tart together. Right?” Deuce quickly agrees, “Right! Together! You and me! Just…you and me… Ahem!” He finishes with a cough and then, to your relief, sends you to the forest to collect some herbs.

You had a handful of samples and a general area to search for more. Apparently, Jack had scented some out while setting up camp and taken cuttings so his clubmates could retrieve more later. You smiled at the foresight of the first-year student. You weren’t sure exactly what Deuce needed, so you gathered a few handfuls of each type. You walk back to the camp and set your bounty on the table next to the fish Deuce has prepared. It looks like he’s used the time you were away to fillet the fish and make a simple dough. Seeing the dough gives you confidence that this really is a Trey recipe.

“So, what now?” you ask him. “Chop up the herbs and mix them into a paste with water,” Deuce directs. “Sure,” you say while gesturing to the pile, “but which ones?” Deuce pauses and looks at the large pile of greens you have sitting there. “Oh…um…All of them!” Now your doubts are back. “Are you sure about that?” you ask him carefully. “Yeah!” Deuce replies confidently, “Just like Trey says, the more the merrier!” You carefully take two sprigs of herbs and chop them up and then, while Deuce is preoccupied with the dough, give them a taste. Honestly, the combination of the two isn’t bad. ‘Well,’ you think, ‘what to I know about cooking in a magical world anyway?’ So, you chop the entire pile of greens and mix it all into a thick paste. Deuce combines your herb paste with the fish and puts it into a small pie shell he has formed with the dough. Then, you pack the ‘pie’ into the hot rocks of the fire to roast.

While the pie bakes, you sit side by side on a log and chat about normal things. Or maybe it was more like you chatted and Deuce listened. You didn’t mind, he was good company even if he seemed preoccupied. You were telling him about Grim’s latest antics when you felt something on your hand. You give a small yelp and tug your hand into your lap. “Ah!” you examine your hand as you brush it off, “Was that a bug?” Deuce, who you suddenly realize had gotten far closer to you than you’d noticed, nervously remarked, “Oh yeah, that…was probably it. Ha ha.” Finally, you ask, “Are you cold? I bet we could find you a seat closer to the fire if you are. You can be as cozy as our pie.” Deuce seems embarrassed for a moment before suddenly becoming alarmed, “THE PIE!” He jumps up and fishes the pie from the fire.

He brings it to you nervously, “I think it is fine…” The pie has a small amount of char around the edge that was directly in the fire. If it hadn’t been made by your good friend, you’d probably have refused it but, since it was made by Deuce, you don’t have the heart to refuse. “Oh yeah, looks fine. I guess…lets try it?” you say trying to convince both yourself and Deuce of the pie’s editability. Deuce lets out a happy sigh and breaks the pie in half, handing you the slice with fewer burnt edges. He makes no move to eat the pie himself but seems to hold his breath, waiting for you to try it. “Well, here it goes?” you say in a worried tone. You take a bite; it’s terrible. You force your mouth into a wide smile, “mmm…” you mutter for him in pity. You decide to use the same method for the pie as you used the last time you were forced to eat Lilia’s cooking. You cram the pie down in three huge bites, trying to finish it off while tasting it as little as possible.

For a moment, Deuce seems greatly pleased with the gusto in which you eat before the look of alarm sets on his face and he tilts his head to the side. Or maybe he is tilting his whole body? Oh, no. It’s you that is falling. Then the blackness takes you as Deuce’s frightened shouts fade out, “HELP, I think…I’ve poisoned…the player…”

You wake up groggy. If that was all, you’d have considered yourself lucky, but it also appears you’ve been tied to a tree. You are confused for a moment until you recall the storyline of the Camp Vargus event. Right, Coach is probably out tormenting students right now while anyone captured is tied up. Great, just great. You look up when you hear a long howl echoing through the forest. ‘Is that Jack?’ you think to yourself. If Jack is already in his wolf form, then this camp is nearly over. You sigh and lean back into the tree, waiting for someone to come along and release you.

It isn’t longer than an hour before a very tired but eager Jack arrives to untie you. “Guess you are the hero of the day, huh?” you jibe at him. He flushes as he rubs the back of his head, “Oh, you heard about that.” He tries to pretend indifference but moments later he is asking for more details, “So what did you hear?” Well, this is a challenge to answer since you hadn’t actually heard anything about it. You just remembered it from when it was a game plot. “Well…didn’t Floyd change into his mer form? That was probably cool to see.”

A look of incredulousness passes over his face, “Yeah well, other guys probably looked cool too.” You nod knowingly, “Yeah, I heard you got to Sebek use his training to lure the monster into the bog. Who knew there would be a chance for him to show off his skills out here.” Jack huffs, “Yeah but he wasn’t the only one using his skills out there.” Now you smile, feeling a bit mischievous yourself, “Oh, for sure. I mean what would we have done without our MVP from Savanahclaw.” Jack lets out a relieved sigh and smiles. “Yes, Ruggie sure did pull though. I don’t normally approve of his sneaky habits, but you have to admit he really came through today.”

Jack’s eyes widen and he stands there in a silent shock. “Well, let’s get going. Are you hungry? I could sure go for something right about now.” Then you dust off your knees and start heading toward camp. After a moment, you decide you’ve tortured him enough and pause, waiving your hand to signal him to join you. When he reaches your side, you give his uniform sleeve a tug. He bends down and you use this opportunity to give him a pat on the head and then rub his soft ears. “You did good, Jack,” you praise him softly. Then you thread your arm through his own and tug him along to camp. “Now, let’s go get some grub. Just don’t take anything Deuce gives you, ok?” Jack smiles and follows you along, tail wagging all the way.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #self aware au #ace trappola #yandere ace trappola #yandere deuce spade #deuce spade #yandere epel felmier #epel felmier #sekek zigvolt #yandere sebek zigvolt #twst first years #yandere first years #tw: yandere

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letteredlettered · 3 months

Note

Hi Im sure you answered this already but i sadly cant find it: how did end up shipping or rather writing drarry fics?

I've actually been asked quite a few times why I ship H/D. I never answer, because it's complicated and long and I have an essay on the subject, so I'll answer the 'how' question without addressing the 'why'.

Once upon a time, the internet was becoming a thing that people used regularly. The news kept talking about how the youths of the day were "surfing the 'net" and this was going to be the new normal. As usual, I could not identify with the 'youths of the day,' even though I was one. What could possibly be of interest to me on the internet? Reading books was far better than talking to other people. Then one day in my senior year of high school it dawned on me that you could possibly talk to other people about books, something I had never done before, as I didn't know anyone but my parents and brothers who ever read for fun, and my parents and brothers did not like to read things like Jane Austen. What if there were people on the 'net who liked Jane Austen??? Seemed fake, but I gave it a try.

The first Jane Austen website I found was Republic of Pemberley, which hosted something they called "Bits of Ivory." Through the "Ramble" board on Republic of Pemberley, I found out that there were "Bits of Ivory" elsewhere. It was called fanfic and hosted on fanfic.net.

Almost all of it that I was introduced to was Harry Potter fic, as HP was the megafandom of the time, and my Sense and Sensibility friend was obsessed with Snape, mainly because of Alan Rickman. I was also obsessed with Snape, though I must say that even though I had been obsessed with Alan Rickman since 1995, I never did like his casting as Snape and still don't. Anyway, I ended up getting interested in Snape/Hermione fic, and continued to be interested on and off for over the next five years.

I should pause at this moment to say that I had been writing fanfic since the fourth grade. I didn't know it was called fic. I didn't know other people did it. It never occurred to me to share it. When I found "Bits of Ivory" it actually took me a while to process that the stories there were in a similar vein to the stories I had been writing all my life, stories based on fiction by other people. It was just so wild to me that anyone would share that stuff, as though other people would want to read the different endings that they came up with, the self-inserts and the cross-overs they came up with.

I should also take this moment to say that I didn't really have slash ships. I was aware that slash existed, and I thought it was great. Sirius/Remus was a background ship everywhere at the time, and even though I didn't really see it in canon and wasn't terribly interested in it, I thought it was a nice thing. And when I started getting into X-Men through Wolverine/Rogue, it seemed obvious to me that Professor X and Magneto had a past sexual relationship. I, in fact, had an original story that I'd started writing in eleventh grade that had similar tension between two male characters, and the idea that they were in love and unable to have sex about it explained so much. And I wrote more original stories in college that were gay.

I think my problem was that the canons I was consuming were quite straight, and while I wasn't obsessed with writing canon-compliant fics, I was (and still am, to some extent) obsessed with writing characters who were true to canon. At the time sexuality seemed some kind of immutable thing to me that was deeply a part of who a character was. Also, sex to me was very Other; it meant something really deep and serious about you that obliterated other things you were. For instance, I was frustrated with all the Frodo/Sam porn, because I felt it obliterated their beautiful friendship and made their relationship about sex and being gay rather than the deep pure bond of friendship. So I was maybe kind of homophobic and confused.

Then I fell in love with Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and while that canon has a lot of heteronormativity, it not only has a character who thought she was straight who realizes she's gay, it also has vampires who have lived for centuries and who have broken every kind of social norm that exists. It seemed silly to me to assume that Spike or Angel were straight, which is how I began shipping Spike/Angel, which is how I got absolutely obsessed with slash. It was so liberating to write porn where the power dynamic wasn't influenced by centuries of patriarchy! It was so liberating to write porn where I didn't have to think about my own anatomy or gender or position in a sexual dynamic! It was so liberating to write porn with a bunch of dicks!

Having discovered slash, I turned back to ye olde faithful fandom, which had ten billion fics about everything. I'm not sure I even tried Sirius/Remus, because I was still so uninterested in it, but now I read all the Snape slash, the majority of which seemed to be Harry/Snape. The thing is, I don't ship Harry/Snape. It can be very hot! But while the porn is fine and some of the stories are fun, these are not two people that I want to live happily ever after. I just think that the power dynamic between them, the history they have, and the personalities they are do not make me want to imagine them as a couple with a happy marriage who occasionally have the friends over for games of Quidditch and Exploding Snap. And while I like queer complicated, angsty stories, I also like a happy ending in a semi-heteronormative sense, especially for Harry Potter, who really seems to want one. So, I started looking for other Harry Potter slash.

I knew that Harry/Draco was a juggernaut pairing, but I just hated Draco Malfoy so much. I honestly could not stand him. I used to go about saying that I hated him not only as a person (like, I also hated Snape as a person; he's a dick, and he's cruel to children! But he's a great character) but as a character. I just didn't like the function he played in the narrative. I like big, dramatic rivalries and evil vs good; meanwhile, Draco Malfoy is a little worm. So I kept thinking about reading HP slash, but resisting.

Then, one day, I was sleeping on the couch, and woke up suddenly with the idea that Draco Malfoy could be reformed. He could be sorry for all the shitty things he's done! He could be really apologetic! He could be really trying to make up for his past, and Harry could find this truly beautiful, and they could have sex about it!

Surprisingly, it was hard to find fic about this. For some reason, in most of the fic, it was Harry having to earn Malfoy's approval, instead of the other way around, which I found absolutely bonkers. But I eventually found Eclipse, by Mijan, which was just what I wanted. Then I was obsessed and was reading every Harry/Draco fic I could find.

Eventually, I even read the ones in which Harry was a cad and Draco Malfoy was a perfect snowflake who never did anything wrong. And then I started finding fics that really emphasized that Draco had a very different point of view of what happened, which showed that he really had no way to understand who Harry was, or what Harry had been through. In these fics, Harry had to do some work to understand Draco, which is what really sold me on the pairing. I still want fics in which Draco has to do a lot of heavy lifting to address his past and deal with the hurt he has caused and the violence of his previously genocidal outlook, but I love it when Harry, too, has to adjust. After saving the world and losing most people he loves and protecting the innocent and doing his exhausted little best to be honest and righteous and true, Harry Potter still has to do work, again, to overcome his past and find a peaceful life. And that's what made me start writing Harry/Draco, the end.

#harry potter #draco malfoy

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pxrxcxa · 2 years

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Opposite Ends

Chapter One - Welcome to Hawkins High

C2 | C3 | C4 | C5 | C6 | C7 | C8 | C9 | C10 | C11 | C12 | C13 pt 1 | C13 pt 2 |

Chapter 2 is out now - enjoy Sunflowers, P. x 🌻

Pairing | Eddie x Female reader 18+. Steve x Robin x Female reader platonic friendship

Series summary | Dustins older sister got brought into the group during the events of Starcourt mall, 3 months on she's in her senior year and the kids are starting high school. After everything that went down she feels that she has to keep them safe at all costs, that includes keeping them way from the charismatic 'freak' Eddie Munson that runs a club based on their favourite game. They've both hated each other since her freshman year -with good reason-, but when keeping distance between the kids and Eddie means putting herself in the firing line, boundaries get blurred, intentions get lost & the heart speaks louder than the brain.

The story is told from both Y/N & Eddies point of view.

What to expect | Slow burn enemies to lovers, Angst - with a happy ending, fluff & smut (in the later chapters). 18+ to read this story.

Series Warnings | Mentions of abuse, drug use, 18+ smut content

Chapter word count | 3.2k word count

Chapter warnings | Mention of physical abuse & Drug use

Any & All comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Love, P. x 🌿

Authors Note | I really hoped you enjoyed it & if you read the entire chapter then thank you for reading! I plan on putting a lot of effort into this story so it may be slow going at first before we see some development between Eddie x y/n. Feel free to let me know what you think! Take care sunflower 🌻, P. x

Y/N | October 1985

It had not even surpassed a month since the quote 'Fire of Starcourt Mall devastates Hawkins' had been splayed across static ridden TV sets in almost every household as it broke across our dearest - and allegedly cursed -towns news headlines and quickly spiralled into a national sensation, the deaths of the flayed blamed on it.

I didn't have to imagine what people thought about that "poor dammed Hawkins town' when they saw the news, up until June I was of the same mind as the rest of the towns terrified residents. Housewives had huddle together in the aisles of Hawkins stores; heads close together as the whispers broke out above the white noise.

“Yes, that’s right, ever since that Byers boy went missing, nothing has been right and all of these tragic deaths. I’m telling you Helen; it almost devilish what’s been happening. Hawkins can’t catch a break, we’re cursed, cursed I tell you.”

And with those venomous words loudly whispered into the eagerly awaiting ears of the notorious town gossip, it had taken only all of an afternoon for that gossip to turn factual and become the opinion held in the highest regard by most residents. Unlike those oblivious to the actual truth, I liked to think I wouldn’t have been so naive and gullible to believe the theories circulating the grapevine, some even more farfetched and implausible than what actually occurred last summer.

Well, almost, I amended. Sometimes I wondered if I would have been better off being continually blissfully unaware of what was beneath my feet at this exact moment. But my brother Dustin and his nerdy friends had come to me for help, whirling me into the most thrilling and traumatising week of my life.

Somehow having read some Russian literature and being able to crack some stupid code that Dustin wouldn’t explain the importance of, corelated to me being stuck in a secret Soviet Russian base elevator underground the famous Starcourt mall. I had sat with my head between my knees for hours, the cold metal of the grates in the floor pushing into my thighs while Dustin explained the past 3 years of our lives from his point of view.

I couldn’t keep up with his voice. Between some band geek from school that I recognised by face only, rubbing my back and kept asking if I was going to hurl, Lucas Sinclair’s kid sister humorous running commentary interrupting Dustin’s story at points and Steve the freaking hair Harrington pacing with his hands on his hips, inspecting the roof and telling Dustin to hurry up. I cut him off halfway through telling a story of something called a Dart. His goofy grin faded from his face as I stood up quickly, rubbing my hand roughly against my eyes to push away the images his irrational words had painted.

“Let me see if I’ve got this.” I had started ticking off my fingers.

“Byers wasn’t lost in the woods but was in fact in some other underground dimension of Hawkins.”

“The upside down.” Dustin interrupted me.

I continued like I hadn’t heard him “There’s some girl with superpowers who always saves you guys, and there’s something called a demodorgan that eats people?” Dustin opened his mouth to correct me, but Steve beat him to it.

“We don’t have time for this dingus, in case you haven’t noticed we are stuck in a literal Russian based filled with soldiers that are probably going to shoot us the moment they find us.” His voice raised to an unattractive shrill at the end, I examined him closer, dressed in that dorky ice-cream uniform with panic plastered across his face it was hard to imagine that he had once been my biggest crush in middle school. Although I doubted I looked much better.

“One last thing.” I grumbled as my hands flailed at my sides.

“Everyone else, literally everyone else knew about this except for me?” I questioned the room, but my eyes were on my baby brother. Anger was coursing through me, but also shame, it was hard to not believe that what he was saying was true given where I was standing at that very moment, no matter how preposterous all of it sounded, but shame at the fact that he hadn’t included me in this earlier. That Steve the hair Harrington had been a better older sibling than I had, I had been too focused on getting the best grades in school and over analysing every interaction I had with Billy while giggling with my friends, to see what clearly had to be happening in front of my eyes.

In that moment I had thought our situation couldn’t get worse. But then Steve, myself and Robin the band geek had held onto each other like a lifeline as we were each interrogated by the Russian soldiers, while Dustin and Erica ran for help. And the lasting physical damage from that didn’t even begin to compare to the consequences after the events of the fire, consequences that we were all still dealing with to this day.

I would have happily taken beatings from trained six foot grown Russian soldiers for the rest of my life if it meant the Mind Flayer never came top side. If it meant that I would catch glimpses of bruised skin out of the corner of my eyes as I passed my reflection in the hallways at school, instead of black worming lines that weren’t really there, crawling over my cheeks and pouring into my head. It had taken weeks for me to convince myself that it was just remnants of PTSD, or whatever the school counsellor had called it, that was causing the fleeting images to stalk me during my waking hours and follow me into my nightmares, seemingly doomed to plague my broken, murky mind forever.

That was the funny thing about shared trauma, the bond it created with those involved. Even though half of the group was split in more ways than one, it was ironic that I’d complained about being left out of the loop for so long, only to be practically joined at the hip with the members of the group that remained behind in Hawkins after the fire.

Max and I had found comfort in each other’s presence, silently understanding each other’s feelings over Billy. Since her stepfather had left and she had moved to the trailer park with her mom it had become the daily routine to drive her to and from school together every day, her home was out of the high school bus route and even though it wasn’t that far of a walk, I didn’t feel comfortable leaving her to her own devices.

As I drove to the trailer park Max and her mother resided in, my eyes came to rest on the clothes flapping on the washing line next to her home, as I turned my car off Curly road, down her street. The familiar gravel of the makeshift street crunching away under the tires. She was perched on the weathered steps, wearing Billy’s jacket as always and headphones already covering her ears. No doubt playing that new ‘Hounds of love’ album, I could hear it sometimes when Max was having a particularly bad day and she blasted it as loud as possible it on her Walkman. Probably to drain out whatever thought or memory harassed her, the first time I wanted to chastise her about making her eardrums bleed I caught myself. I did things I wasn’t supposed to, to block out my own demons. Who was I to judge about how Max dealt with hers.

“Y/N” Dustin pulled me out of my thoughts from the seat next to me as the rolled the car to a stop, Max pulled the back door open and slid into the seat, nodding her head as her morning acknowledgment. “You’ve been in the school for three years longer than me so you should know what clubs there are!” Dustin smacked his walkie and shoved the antenna down in frustration. ”Dammit Mike!” The asphalt flew away beneath the car as I pushed the gas pedal down faster. Itching to get the day over as fast as possible.

“Do I look like I’m even remotely interested in your nerdy stuff to even pay the slightest bit of attention to what clubs you might like?” Although it might have been a good idea to see what group I could off load my brother and Mike wheeler to, it was the last day of the first week of high school and they were still following me around like lost sheep. My senior year, the one where I needed to concentrate the most and I was stuck running a baby-sitting club. I rocked in my seat as we drove over the speedbump leading into the school’s carpark.

“What’s hellfire?” My neck snapped to look at Dustin.

“Wh – what?” I sputtered, “How do you know about them?” He pointed to a duo walking in the swarm headed to the school’s entrance. Gareth and Jeff I thought, but it was hard to tell from the distance, my eyesight was worsening, and I made a mental note to find my glasses in my bombshell of a room, sooner rather than later. Dustin must have seen their shirts.

“So?” He pushed, eyeing me curiously.

“I don’t know man, they’re a club I guess, they play some game...” I tightened my grasp on the wheel and looked over my shoulder to park.

“What game?” He drew out his question like he already knew the answer. I groaned internally already sensing where this was heading. Apparently so did Max.

“Bye.” She murmured as she slinked out of the backseat, sliding her bag up her shoulder and burrowing down into the safety of her oversized jacket.

"Some fantasy game” I shrugged nonchalantly as his eyes bulged in his skull. Killing the engine and gathering my stuff, I spoke before he could. “You’re staying away from them, Eddie Munson’s a member and he’s a freak.” I explained forcefully, the words burned my tongue on the way out, I was sure the words ‘hypocrite’ were plastered on my forehead.

“He’s a freak because he plays a game?” He scoffed looking at me disbelievingly, with traces of disdain.

I rushed to explain myself “No I just – he just – look, he’s dangerous and you aren’t to go near him, no discussion.” He just grinned and jumped out. Rolling down the passenger side window I shouted at his retreating back “No discussion!”

With robotical movements, ingrained from following the same path for almost four years, I made my way to my locker to grab the necessary books for my first class of the day. Ignoring the lingering and longing stares thrown my way, the whispers had dissipated weeks ago. New morsels of gossip were either discovered or created far too often to focus on any specific one to cause any real discomfort.

After the fire, everything had changed, it wasn’t just the physical impact it had. Anyone could see the holes that the deaths had created in Hawkins, but there was one that affected me more than anyone else's. Suddenly the basketball team wasn’t as loud, the hallways were missing a certain cologne and I still waited five minutes after the last bell rung to hear the smooth purr of an engine that would never roar to life again.

In the terms of Hawkins Highs newsletter, I may as well be a victim of the fire to. Sweet perfect Y/F/N didn’t care about cheerleading, or basketball, or parties, or boys or friends anymore. I was just an empty shell, an echo of the bright person they grew up with. They said Billy’s death changed me, that I was too heartbroken to continue on without him. They weren’t all wrong, loosing Billy, and – my heart squeezed painfully with the memories of what happened right after that - did change me. I would never admit it to listening ears, lest it get back to Max, but I was well and truly over Billy in a romantic sense. The past 4 months brought my inane problems and mundane life into excruciating clear focus, suddenly what I was going to wear to the after-game party didn’t matter. Graduating as soon as possible so I could escape the town that had its talons in deeper than just my skin - it had my soul in its grasp - was the most important purpose in my life.

That still didn’t stop my old friends from caressing at the surface, probing to see if I’d would come back to life. A strong hand slammed down on the locker next to me, sending a ringing in my ears and my carefully stacked books to clatter the floor. Sighing, I stilled the rattling open door of my locker.

“You coming to cheer me on tonight Y/N?” Jason Carver. His overpowering stench of expensive cologne and sweat after basketball practise assaulted my senses, invading my body and mind. I took an involuntary step back and crinkled my nose.

“Just like every other Friday you’ve asked me Jason, no. For the last time no.” His nonchalant laugh insulted the seriousness of my tone, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was something lurking there.

“Come on, I know your squad misses you.” His voice was whiny as he reached behind my head to bring the end of my ponytail over my shoulder, the brush of his fingers sent a chill up my spine as he fiddled with the green ribbon tied there. I could feel eyes pouring into my back, but when I spun away from Jason, slamming my locker shut, sending a fresh breeze over the both of us, there was no one I could see watching me.

“I’m going to be late for Mr Mundy.” I called as an afterthought, barely glancing back at a confused Jason still standing by my locker, not wanting to have him seek me out later. I hadn’t heard the second bell ring while he cornered me, too preoccupied with the sickening feeling that had begun in my stomach when Jason’s blue eyes bored into mine and now settled in the low pits of my frame as I tore through the empty corridors. I paused at the edge of Mr Mundy’s classroom door to fix my hair back into place when I got a glimpse of my reflection in the window. My breath hitched in my throat as a prickly heat spread out across my body. She smiled back at me with lips that were trembling on my own face.

“Y/N” She drawled, “I’m still here, waiting.” Black lines appeared on my neck, crawling up my face. My head swam as I hung my head down, ripping my eyes away from the stranger in the window. No, not a stranger echoed in my mind, the same black lines started to flourish from my fingertips, spreading up my forearms.

Something hard but fleshy slammed into my back, bringing me out of my nightmare. Tommy H spun around to grin at me holding his hands up in an apologetic way as he walked backwards into the class. My head snapped back up to the window, but it was my own eyes, glassy with fresh tears that stared back at me. I quickly followed suit after Tommy, hoping to slip in undetected. Fortunately, Mr Mundy was preoccupied with reprimanding Carol over some violation or another as I hastily found my seat in the third row. I shoved my bag under the desk and flipped to an empty page in my notebook, a strong breeze blowing through the open windows helped even my breathing as I focused on the coolness of the air. I groaned as I felt the warm body on my left shift in my direction. With everything that had happened that morning I hadn’t let myself think about this class. Mr Mundy had been out sick for the first two days of the week, so it was actually the first class of senior year, and like the past three years of high school in calculus, I was situated in my regular seat with some quiet band geek on my right side and –

“Miss Y/N,” He cleared his throat leaning forward “You uh –“

“Shut it Munson, you’d think since it was you’re third year trying to pass high school you would at least bring a pencil, regardless – not my issue.” I snapped, crossing my legs and angling my body away from Edward Munson, Hawkins Highs very own organically grown Metal head.

As much I appreciated Mr Mundy’s teaching style, i wasn’t a fan of his inability to deal with change, hence why – after clearly pissing off some high power from above– I ended up sitting next to Eddie on an iron clad seating chart. No amount of begging and bargaining with the Calculus teacher got me anywhere

‘The best and the worst students in the class, you might rub off on him Y/N.’ Mr Mundy then just winked, laughed and snatched his brief case up on his way out before I had a chance to respond. But if he thought for one second that I was going to tutor or be some sort of good role model, then Mr Mundy wasn’t as smart as he thought he was, or I just was as stubborn as I thought I was. Eddie was a lost cause, for the most part of our four years of school, I’d managed to avoid and ignore the metal head. We’d probably said about five sentences to each other and that was only because of partnered projects we were forced to share. Even so, I swore his sole purpose on earth was to piss me off and he seemed determined to live up to the title or die trying.

The way he’d twist the rings that adorned almost all of his knuckles, so they’d catch the sunlight and blind me, or how he’d bang a couple of pencils on his desk pretending to play a fake drum set while humming a song I didn’t know under his breath. The scratching of his pencil against his desk piercing through my concertation as he doodled away, completing ignoring whatever important material Mr Mundy would be teaching. Most infuriating of all though was the fresh smell of weed that would hit me like a rock as he sauntered past my desk, arriving late to class because he was busy smoking. More infuriating now, as it was what I used to be able to sleep through the night. Since the fire I hadn't one night where I didn't wake screaming or locked in a frozen cage of terror.

The earthy smell, even diluted by Eddie's cologne, sent a stab of wanting through my core, not a feeling I wanted to associate with Eddie.

A wolf whistle erupted behind me and I slowly turned to see Tommy and some cronies eyeing me up and down like a piece of meat.

“Nice show Y/N” They chuckled loudly, ensuring everyone could hear them, Mr Mundy started to make his way over to the commotion. I scowled at the group of boys confused, until realisation dawned on my face.

Chapter Two

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter & my very first post! If you would like to be added to my Eddie tag list, let me know! :) Enjoy Sunflowers - P. x

#eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson headcanon #eddie stranger things #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie fanfic #eddie smut #eddie fluff #eddie x reader smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie x reader #eddie x you #opposite ends

1K notes · View notes

ambrossart · 2 years

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DANCING WITH MYSELF

— PART FOUR

summary: eddie crashes senior prom hoping to steal a dance with his dream girl, chrissy cunningham. instead, he spends the night stuck in the women’s restroom with you—her snarky, insecure best friend. ❖ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader ❖ word count: 2,244 ❖ genre: fluff with some angst ❖ series status: complete ❖ warnings: no season 4 spoilers, some coarse language, body image issues, allusions to eating disorders, typical teenage insecurities, angst, jealousy, anxiety, secret crushes, childhood memories, happy ending, lots of 80s music one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten

He doesn’t know my name… Seriously?

It bothered you more than you cared to admit, Eddie Munson not remembering your name. You’d known the guy since middle school. You talked to him on a near-daily basis… okay, “talking” might be a little inaccurate; mostly you just made snide comments about him under your breath. But he always heard you. You know he heard you because he would always get annoyed and glare at you, just like he did tonight.

Between your sophomore and senior year, you shared a total of eight classes together, and you spent half of them sitting directly behind him. Were you really that forgettable? You expected that kind of treatment from conceited jerks like Andy Hauffman and Clay Howard, but you didn’t think Eddie Munson was that self-absorbed.

Now you felt hurt and betrayed… not so unlike Julius Caesar.

Et tu, Eddie?

You must have been wearing your disappointment on your face because as soon as you rejoined the group, the first words out of Jason Carver’s mouth were, “What’s wrong? Hey, did that freak do something to you?”

“Hm? Oh… no, that’s not…” You saw Chrissy staring at you with a worried expression, so you tried to wave it off like it was nothing. “I’m fine, really.”

Jason put his hand on your shoulder, gave it a small squeeze. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

He frowned, unconvinced. “Well, you should be careful around that guy, okay? He’s dangerous.”

You scrunched up your face. “What? Eddie’s not dangerous. I mean, yeah, he looks all mean and scary, but he’s really just a big geek. It’s kind of hilarious, actually…” You trailed off, letting your eyes wander back toward the entrance, where Eddie Munson was standing around all helpless and miserable, looking like a sad little puppy with those big, round brown eyes…

For a second, you felt bad about how you treated him, but only for a second.

You clapped your hands together. “Anyway, shouldn’t we be heading in? Get this prom party started? If the future king and queen don’t make an appearance soon, the peasants will surely riot.”

Jason continued to watch Eddie with a suspicious glare. Then he gave a faint nod to his friends. “Come on, guys, let’s go,” and he went up the stairs first.

You and Chrissy walked side by side, a few steps behind everyone else.

“What did he want?” she whispered.

“Who?”

“You know who.”

“Oh… He just wanted my extra prom ticket.”

She gasped, delighted. “And…?”

“And… I flipped him off and told him to go to hell.”

Chrissy cringed. “Ugh, of course you did… You know, did it ever occur to you that this might be your Pretty in Pink moment? I mean, think about it: Chance gets food poisoning, so you’re stuck going to prom alone, and now who shows up but Eddie Munson, of all people? You don’t have a date. He doesn’t have a date. I dunno about you, but to me that sounds like quite the coincidence.” She smiled a wide, positively sunny smile.

You scoffed. “He didn’t want a date, Chris. He wanted my prom ticket. It’s not half as romantic as you’re making it out to be.”

“Well, maybe if you actually talked to him like a normal person…”

“Hey, I talk to him.”

“No, you tease him. I know you think that’s the same thing, but it’s not.”

“Well, it’s not my fault. The jokes are just there, floating all around me. I have to grab ‘em or else they’ll die for nothing. And he’s such an easy target… everything he does is so over the top. It’s like he’s begging me to mock him.”

“Well, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”

“You know, I’ve never really understood that expression. Why are you trying to catch flies with either of those things? Just get a bug zapper and fry the suckers.” Chuckling, you went to take the next step, but Chrissy grabbed your elbow and yanked you back.

The gravity of her demeanor was startling.

“Look, you’re running out of time. Is this really how you wanna end your senior year?” She raised her eyebrows, hinting at knowledge only she possessed. “Think about it.” Then she went up, leaving you stranded on the step.

Well, that’s easy for you to say… You’re basically a goddess in this school.

You glanced back to where Eddie had been standing, but he was already gone.

School dances had always been a sore spot for you.

Before tonight, you had only attended one school dance: the Hawkins Middle School Snow Ball in 1981. The night started out like a dream. You put on your favorite dress. You wore your hair differently, spent hours in front of the mirror getting it just right. The gym was decorated like a silver and blue tinsel wonderland, and you were having the time of your life: eating cookies, drinking punch, laughing with Chrissy and all of your friends. Then the DJ played your favorite ABBA song, and you truly felt like the Dancing Queen. It was magical.

But then the first slow song came on over the speakers: “Endless Love” by Lionel Richie and Diana Ross, and you felt the atmosphere… shift. It snuck up behind you and caught you completely off guard. All around you, couples came together naturally, drawn to each other from across the gym like magnets. One after another, they paired up without a word, and you were left stranded.

Alone.

Chrissy, being the considerate friend she was, asked Preston Bailey to dance with you. Yeah, Preston was a real Prince Charming. He looked at you in your favorite dress and just shrugged; then his arms sort of flopped out like two wet noodles. It was absolutely humiliating.

For the sake of your pride, you said no to Preston Bailey and his pity dance. And despite your pride, you spent the rest of the night crying in the girls’ restroom.

You’d never felt so unwanted and unloved.

And now, while you stood atop the balcony overlooking the dance floor, while Alphaville’s “Forever Young” droned on and on in the background, while couples swayed with their arms lovingly wrapped around one another, you felt all those old, ugly emotions come flooding back.

God help me, you thought and began your slow descent into Hell.

You found your group’s table right away, beneath a sheer canopy of white and gold. It was draped with white linen, decorated with candles and roses, and set perfectly for six, everyone’s seat denoted by a pretty white place card. Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham, Andy Hauffman and Heather White, Chance Gallagher and…

You picked up Chance Gallagher’s card and ripped it in half twice, then tossed the pieces over your right shoulder.

Jason pulled Chrissy’s chair out for her, and she thanked him with a smile.

“I’m gonna go grab a slice of cake before it’s gone,” Jason said. “Do you want vanilla or chocolate?”

Chrissy said, “Oh, no cake for me, thank you. My stomach’s still a little upset from dinner.”

“Oh…” Jason reached out and tenderly stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s probably just, you know, from all the excitement.” But when she looked at you, her eyes suddenly became downcast.

Jason frowned. “Well, okay… Y/N, what about you?”

“Either one’s fine,” you said. “I don’t discriminate against cake.”

Jason snorted a laugh. “My kinda girl… All right, I’ll be back.”

Once Jason left, Chrissy said to you in a quiet voice, “I really am fine.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, but I know what you’re thinking… and I’m fine.”

“Okay…”

And now Frankie Goes to Hollywood was telling you both to “Relax.”

You picked up a paper ballot and a tiny pencil. “Just don’t let the pressure of tonight set you back, Chris. That’s all I’m gonna say.”

You drew an X next to Chrissy’s name.

A short while later, while you were picking at the crumbs from your cake, Chrissy and Jason left to go greet some more of their friends. That’s when you spotted a familiar face at one of the nearby tables. You got up and went over to him, plopping down in an empty chair.

“Hey, Jeff,” you said over the music. “You’re looking pretty snazzy tonight.”

Jeff turned his head and smiled. “Well, look who it is… What brave soul asked you to prom?”

“Chance Gallagher.” You looked away. “But he’s dead now.”

“What?”

“He got food poisoning… I tagged along with Chrissy and Jason.”

“Oh… a threesome, huh?” He grimaced. “Well, that’s brutal.”

“Yup.” You stole a bite of his cake. “Hey, where’s your date?”

“Tara? She’s over there with her friends. I forgot to make dinner reservations, so now she’s giving me the silent treatment… Apparently, I ruined her prom night by making her eat a hamburger.”

You shrugged. “What’s wrong with a hamburger?”

“Right…? See, we should’ve just gone to prom together.”

“Well, you didn’t ask me.” You went to take another bite of his cake, but Jeff pulled his plate away.

“Umm, excuse me,” he said with a lighthearted chuckle. “I’m still eating that, you know.”

You smiled sheepishly and put his fork down. “Sorry.”

Then you leaned back in your chair and looked around for a minute, searching for nobody in particular. “So Eddie the Genius forgot to buy a ticket, huh?”

“Oh, you saw him?”

“Yeah, he tried to bum one off me… Naturally, I refused.” You folded your arms over your chest and went quiet. “Would you believe he doesn’t know my name?”

“What?” Jeff drew away from you, dumbstruck. “No way… No, I refuse to believe that.”

“I promise you, he doesn’t. You should have seen the look on his face, Jeff. It was like I’d just asked him to recite the first seven digits of pi.”

“Really…?” He slumped back in his chair. “Damn!”

Out on the dance floor, the tempo picked up as the DJ drove into the next track: “Dancing With Myself” by Billy Idol. That’s when Grant came bursting out of the crowd and collapsed against the table, red-faced and sweating, huffing and puffing with exhaustion.

“She’s trying to kill me,” Grant said. “Oh my god, she’s trying to kill me!”

Behind him, Megan Mulrooney was bopping away to the beat and singing at the top of her lungs: “If I had the chance, I'd ask the world to dance… And I’d be dancing with myself, ah, oh, oh-oh, yeah…”

You smiled at Grant. “What’s up, Lord of the Dance?”

Grant bent his head and wheezed. “Shut up, Y/N.” Then he grabbed Jeff’s cup of punch and gulped the whole thing down.

While he was drinking, Jeff said, “Hey, man, get a load of this: Eddie doesn’t remember Y/N’s name. Can you believe it?”

Grant wiped his mouth with a napkin, then dabbed his forehead, too. “Yeah, I’d believe that.”

“What?” you said. “Why?”

Grant laughed a deep, sinister laugh. “Oh, come on, you know why… The Shrieking Queen’s Catacombs? Does that ring any bells?”

“No,” you said, but Jeff gasped.

“Oh my god," he said. “‘The Bargain from Below!’”

Grant nodded. “‘The Bargain from Below.’”

“What?” You sat up in your chair, looked at Jeff, then Grant, then back to Jeff. “‘The Bargain from…’ Oh… Oh, come on, you can’t be serious. Guys, that was back in middle school! He can’t possibly still be mad about that.”

Jeff said, “No, he’s definitely still mad about that.”

“Why?”

“You kinda ruined the whole campaign.”

“Yeah, but how? All I did was accept the demon’s bargain.”

“You weren’t supposed to accept the demon’s bargain!”

“But he was offering me the ultimate power...”

Jeff and Grant bellowed with rage: “YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO ACCEPT THE ULTIMATE POWER! IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE RHETORICAL!”

You threw your hands up, not getting it at all. “Well, if it was rhetorical, then Scottie shouldn’t have let me accept it in the first place. But that’s not my fault. I was totally playing by the Dungeon Master’s rules.”

Jeff said in a small voice, “Yeah, but you didn’t have to kill Eddie…”

You smirked. “Well, the demon demanded a blood sacrifice.”

(What? You can’t do that! Scottie, tell her she can’t do that!)

(Actually, I think it adds an interesting dynamic to the story...)

(Dude, what the fuck? No, it doesn't! It totally ruins the story. Now she has the ultimate power and she's just gonna tank all the monsters!)

Jeff said, “Admit it, you did that on purpose.”

You held in a laugh. “Okay, fine, maybe I did… but I wasn’t expecting him to get as mad as he did. I was just trying to add some spice to the story, and he acted like I killed him in real life. Then he stormed out of Scottie’s basement and said I completely ruined D&D for him. Overdramatic much? Come on, it’s just a game…”

Jeff and Grant shook their heads in condemnation and your shoulders sank. “So, what, now you’re saying he’s totally blocked me from his memory? And all because of some stupid campaign that happened a million years ago? Please, that guy needs to get over himself.” You got up and stormed back to your table.

When you were out of earshot, Grant said, “I’m guessing we shouldn’t tell her about Eddie’s plan, huh?”

Jeff winced. “Not unless you have a death wish.”

____________________

PREV // CURRENT // NEXT

#eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #chrissy cunningham #jason carver #chrissy x jason #eddie x chrissy #stranger things 4 #st4 #ambrossart #dancing with myself #dwm #fanfiction

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beardedmrbean · 5 months

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Hundreds of “radicalized” kids rampaged through the halls of a Queens high school this week for nearly two hours after they discovered a teacher had attended a pro-Israel rally — forcing the terrified educator to hide in a locked office as the teen mob tried to push its way into her classroom, The Post has learned.

The mayhem at Hillcrest High School in Jamaica unfolded shortly after 11 a.m. Monday in what students called a pre-planned protest over the teacher’s Facebook profile photo showing her at a pro-Israel rally on Queens Oct. 9 holding a poster saying, “I stand with Israel.”

“The teacher was seen holding a sign of Israel, like supporting it,” a senior told The Post this week.

“A bunch of kids decided to make a group chat, expose her, talk about it, and then talk about starting a riot.”

Hundreds of kids flooded into hallways and ran amok, chanting, jumping, shouting, and waving Palestinian flags or banners.

Many tried to barge into the teacher’s classroom despite school staffers blocking their entry.

“Everyone was yelling ‘Free Palestine!’” a senior said.

“Everyone was screaming ‘(The teacher) needs to go!’” a ninth-grader said.

“They want her fired.”

School administrators and the NYPD, which responded to the school at about 11:20 am, got wind of their plans just in time to rush the teacher into an office and lock the door, another educator said.

Students recorded the commotion, posting multiple videos, some set to pulsing Arabian music, on TikTok.

“When a protest brakes (sic) out because a teacher stands with Israel,” a caption on one says.

Another reads, “Hillcrest high school had a riot because a Health teacher was supporting Israel.”

Most comments posted on the videos applauded the kids and jeered the teacher, one calling her a “cracker ass bitch.”

Clips showed a water fountain ripped out in the hallway and shattered tiles in the second-floor boys’ bathroom, which students admitted they vandalized.

The NYPD not only sent a couple dozen cops to restore order but tapped its counterterrorism bureau to investigate a possible threat against the school, according to City Councilman James Gennaro (D-Queens), citing officials.

“Whether it was one student or multiple students who did or said something, whatever the trigger was, something happened. And I know from my many years on the City Council that the counterterrorism task force is not engaged unless they believe it is potentially a serious situation,” Gennaro said.

The teacher gave a statement to The Post, which is withholding her name for her own safety.

“I have been a teacher for 23 years in the New York City public school system — for the last seven at Hillcrest High School. I have worked hard to be supportive of our entire student body and an advocate for our community, and was shaken to my core by the calls to violence against me that occurred online and outside my classroom last week.”

“No one should ever feel unsafe at school — students and teachers alike,” she added.

The teacher continued: “It’s my hope in the days ahead we can find a way to have meaningful discussions about challenging topics with respect for each other’s diverse perspectives and shared humanity,” the teacher said in her statement. “Unless we can learn to see each other as people we will never be able to create a safe learning community.”

The school’s deans, and a sergeant stationed at the school, finally corralled the students back into classrooms, according to sources and the NYPD.

Cops escorted the teacher safely out of the building.

Students said kids followed and spit on her, but another teacher said that did not happen.

The hostility went further, students told The Post.

“They found where she lives — her address, her phone number, her family and everything — her personal information,” a senior said.

“I heard that some people already called her on her private phone and said some bad things.” Sources could not confirm that.

The chaos and lockdown, which sources said lasted roughly two hours, was one of the most frightening incidents of antisemitism in New York schools and colleges since the Hamas massacre in Israel Oct. 7 sparked the Jewish state’s war with Gaza.

It follows a massive, pro-Palestinian citywide walkout on Nov. 9 by some 700 NYC high school students calling for a ceasefire.

Brooklyn students were captured on video yelling, “F–k the Jews!”

“When I saw the videos that came out, Hillcrest looks very bad on social media,” a mom said at the school’s PTA meeting a day after the wild tumult, raising safety fears.

“I’ve never seen this happening at Hillcrest.”

About 25 NYPD cops raced to the school to quell the disturbance, principal Scott Milczewski told parents. Administrators placed the school in a “soft lockdown,” activating a team of staffers and safety agents trained to handle emergencies.

“There are 2,500 students,” Milczewski said. “Adults will always be outnumbered. I think that’s something we have to understand. And that’s why we’re asking you to speak to your children. We need your support with this.”

The NYPD was called to the school again the next day, and said cops arrested an 18-year-old student for making threats over a group chat. The student was charged with aggravated harassment.

Gennaro, whose district includes the school, said the Israel-Gaza war gave kids “a convenient excuse” to act out.

“It went from a teacher just changing a photograph on her social profile to this contagion of hate being released in the halls of Hillcrest High School,” Gennaro said.

“It’s a sad commentary on the rancid hate that exists within the hearts of students — for Jews.”

Councilman Robert Holden (D-Queens) called it shocking that high school kids “would gang up on a teacher and harass her.”

“I don’t know why these students are so misinformed, so intolerant and so radicalized. They don’t even know the history of the Middle East. They haven’t been taught that,” he said.

Several students agreed.

“I doubt half of them know how to spell Palestine,” a senior said.

“They just wanted to make drama about it,” a sophomore said of the teacher’s pro-Israel stance.

“Just, like, chaos. They thought of it as fun.”

Students said rumors spread that the teacher “was abusing Muslims” and had taught “it was okay that children were being killed in Palestine.” Another teacher called the accusations “100% false.”

At least three students who organized the riot face superintendent’s suspensions, the most severe punishment, said a source familiar with the incident.

Milczewski said the law forbids him to discuss any consequences for students, but that the DOE “has a discipline code and I promise you that has been followed.”

Mayor Eric Adams denounced the “vile” incident while sharing The Post’s story on X Saturday night.

“The vile show of antisemitism at Hillcrest High School was motivated by ignorance-fueled hatred, plain and simple, and it will not be tolerated in any of our schools, let alone anywhere else in our city.

“We are better than this,” he wrote.

Chancellor David Banks — a Hillcrest graduate himself– vaguely touched on the incident Tuesday during a town hall meeting with Manhattan parents.

“We have our whole team working very closely with the students and the teachers at the school. But what’s happening in the Middle East has gotten a lot of emotions from a lot of people. We’re still figuring out what’s going on.”

The city Department of Education decried the incident.

“We are aware of the completely unacceptable incident that occurred at Hillcrest High School last week, and our safety team is actively collaborating with the superintendent and principal to fully investigate the matter and protect the safety of both students and staff,” a spokesperson said in a statement. “No form of hate, whether it be antisemitism Islamophobia, or other form of bigotry will be tolerated in our schools.”

#nunyas news #incredible i hope their names and faces get plastered everywhere #and this follows them for a long long time

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vizthedatum · 1 month

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I’ve been in therapy for a while - was mandated to go by my school in senior year of high school (my first therapist was an asshole and got fired - he yelled at me and stuff but I didn’t report it), then really briefly in sophomore year of college, and then consistently since 2017 after I exited a very tough relationship (I remember my obgyn telling me how worried she was for me, told me to go to therapy, and told me that maybe I should admit myself to the local psych ward for a bit… while he was in the waiting room). I’ve had a couple therapists since 2017 including a brief stint at an IOP. I refuse to be admitted to any psych wards due to my trauma of seeing my brother be admitted on and off for over a decade (and I guess, other reasons).

I think I considered my therapy more seriously in 2017 but I didn’t really internalize my lessons and stuff until very recently.

It took a long time for me to dissect my sense of self, and I’m still working on it.

I have a lot that I’m undoing from my childhood.

Simply going to therapy isn’t an overnight, or even overyear (I made this term up), fix! Meaning, therapy is just one ongoing thing you’re doing for your self-care.

It’s okay that it takes you a while to wade through your life to figure out where you’re headed.

It’s okay if you succumb to your old patterns time and time again. I know I have! They’re patterns for a reason - it’s been very hard for me to break out of them, but I know I’m making a lot of progress.

I didn’t even fully acknowledge my transness and neurodivergence until 2021. (Also me: I didn’t even fully consider myself disabled until 2014 when my doctor (who diagnosed me with interstitial cystitis) told me so. But like I’ve been disabled my entire life - and I’m so burned out by telling myself I’m not.)

Being your authentic self is hard especially when society tells you that you should do XYZ and then you’ll be healed.

I remember my current boss responding to me “Still?” after I told her I was still healing after several weeks of a horrible bout of physical infection, physical flare ups, and a huge exacerbation of my PTSD symptoms last summer. She didn’t even know about my chronic disabilities or the traumatic events of my life - all she knew was that I had a couple of doctor’s notes about how I had an infection and I needed to recover.

I have come to accept that people will not understand the chronic nature of what I go through, let alone the mental aspect of it all. After all, my high school counselor told me I’d be homeless because I was missing so much school due to my migraines - it didn’t occur to her that I was a high achieving student or that I may be going through other underlying health or environmental things - she told a teenager that, and it’s haunted me ever since.

I have disappointed so many people in my life.

But I know that moving forward, I have to stop feeling so much shame about being me. Even if I disappoint myself, I must forgive myself and keep going.

I am loving myself more and more all the time.

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macleod · 2 years

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The importance of stupidity in scientific research

I recently saw an old friend for the first time in many years. We had been Ph.D. students at the same time, both studying science, although in different areas. She later dropped out of graduate school, went to Harvard Law School and is now a senior lawyer for a major environmental organization. At some point, the conversation turned to why she had left graduate school. To my utter astonishment, she said it was because it made her feel stupid. After a couple of years of feeling stupid every day, she was ready to do something else.

I had thought of her as one of the brightest people I knew and her subsequent career supports that view. What she said bothered me. I kept thinking about it; sometime the next day, it hit me. Science makes me feel stupid too. It's just that I've gotten used to it. So used to it, in fact, that I actively seek out new opportunities to feel stupid. I wouldn't know what to do without that feeling. I even think it's supposed to be this way. Let me explain.

For almost all of us, one of the reasons that we liked science in high school and college is that we were good at it. That can't be the only reason – fascination with understanding the physical world and an emotional need to discover new things has to enter into it too. But high-school and college science means taking courses, and doing well in courses means getting the right answers on tests. If you know those answers, you do well and get to feel smart.

A Ph.D., in which you have to do a research project, is a whole different thing. For me, it was a daunting task. How could I possibly frame the questions that would lead to significant discoveries; design and interpret an experiment so that the conclusions were absolutely convincing; foresee difficulties and see ways around them, or, failing that, solve them when they occurred? My Ph.D. project was somewhat interdisciplinary and, for a while, whenever I ran into a problem, I pestered the faculty in my department who were experts in the various disciplines that I needed. I remember the day when Henry Taube (who won the Nobel Prize two years later) told me he didn't know how to solve the problem I was having in his area. I was a third-year graduate student and I figured that Taube knew about 1000 times more than I did (conservative estimate). If he didn't have the answer, nobody did.

That's when it hit me: nobody did. That's why it was a research problem. And being my research problem, it was up to me to solve. Once I faced that fact, I solved the problem in a couple of days. (It wasn't really very hard; I just had to try a few things.) The crucial lesson was that the scope of things I didn't know wasn't merely vast; it was, for all practical purposes, infinite. That realization, instead of being discouraging, was liberating. If our ignorance is infinite, the only possible course of action is to muddle through as best we can.

I'd like to suggest that our Ph.D. programs often do students a disservice in two ways. First, I don't think students are made to understand how hard it is to do research. And how very, very hard it is to do important research. It's a lot harder than taking even very demanding courses. What makes it difficult is that research is immersion in the unknown. We just don't know what we're doing. We can't be sure whether we're asking the right question or doing the right experiment until we get the answer or the result. Admittedly, science is made harder by competition for grants and space in top journals. But apart from all of that, doing significant research is intrinsically hard and changing departmental, institutional or national policies will not succeed in lessening its intrinsic difficulty.

Second, we don't do a good enough job of teaching our students how to be productively stupid – that is, if we don't feel stupid it means we're not really trying. I'm not talking about `relative stupidity', in which the other students in the class actually read the material, think about it and ace the exam, whereas you don't. I'm also not talking about bright people who might be working in areas that don't match their talents. Science involves confronting our `absolute stupidity'. That kind of stupidity is an existential fact, inherent in our efforts to push our way into the unknown. Preliminary and thesis exams have the right idea when the faculty committee pushes until the student starts getting the answers wrong or gives up and says, `I don't know'. The point of the exam isn't to see if the student gets all the answers right. If they do, it's the faculty who failed the exam. The point is to identify the student's weaknesses, partly to see where they need to invest some effort and partly to see whether the student's knowledge fails at a sufficiently high level that they are ready to take on a research project.

Productive stupidity means being ignorant by choice. Focusing on important questions puts us in the awkward position of being ignorant. One of the beautiful things about science is that it allows us to bumble along, getting it wrong time after time, and feel perfectly fine as long as we learn something each time. No doubt, this can be difficult for students who are accustomed to getting the answers right. No doubt, reasonable levels of confidence and emotional resilience help, but I think scientific education might do more to ease what is a very big transition: from learning what other people once discovered to making your own discoveries. The more comfortable we become with being stupid, the deeper we will wade into the unknown and the more likely we are to make big discoveries.

#Science #Reports #Mine

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bengiyo · 5 months

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Theory of Love Special Ep (Finale) Stray Thoughts

I am curious how I feel about this as the end of the Theory of Love run. I won't recap since we finished the show, but I went back into my own posts and I previously liked this despite having no memory of it.

Okay, as cheesy as it is, I do generally like when follow up outings acknowledge or tease their critics.

Oh that play with the names. I saw that. It's 2020 and we all verse now. (Side note. I do not remember associating this special with COVID lockdowns.)

It's kinda fun when the epilogue content happens before the actual ending. We know that they will get back together to form Hod Production and that they'll succeed.

Special Episode: Stand By Me

Oh, Third. You really had this man sleeping on the floor for multiple nights. Even as someone who wanted him to suffer, you aren't serious.

I'm not surprised Third and Khai ended up working together, and it's definitely good for Third's ego that Khai is being such a simp.

I was curious what hanging out for these guys would look like now that most of them are in committed relationships and Bone is healing from heartache.

Look at that, Khai. Growth. He was in a situation with some girls and made it clear he wasn't available. I will accept the incoming hijinks from this lipstick.

Yes, Khai, why did you lie?

I snorted at the camera guy having better communication with the director or cinematographer than Khai.

Did this girl suck on his neck? Why is he still hiding it? Just tell Third some drunk girl fell on you. Two saw it and Third trusts Two. Bone gets it.

I'm glad Third is aware that he's cute and actively maintaining it. Gun torments me regularly on IG.

I kinda like that Khai is being so ridiculous about this drunk girl situation. We know he's been at this for almost a year trying to prove his loyalty to Third.

This senior taking the graduation photo from them was one of the motorcycle guys in My Ride.

Aww, Bone. Do you think you're better off alone? Talk to me.

Any time someone points with their lips I laugh.

I love this confession in the car. Third is still testing Khai, but at least he knows Khai wasn't stepping out. I like that the resolution is one about how they're both trying to make this work despite the emotional baggage. I like the version of Khai that wants to honor Third.

These two made it four years and produced a movie together. I believe in their relationship if it's still going strong after making a highly successful film.

I am actually so into Khai doing multiple proposals to Third, elevating it each time.

Well, that was lovely.

Updated Verdict: 8.5, Recommended for Fans of Romance Cinema. I spent a lot of time over the last few days thinking about how I would recommend this series going forward. I think it is good on a lot of technical fronts, and there's a lot to like in the BTS: particularly Off using his own clothes to supplement Khai's wardrobe. Still, this show firmly sits right over the awkward line between BL and queerness that makes me uncomfortable with the genre sometimes.

Third's reticence to Khai only makes sense to me in a world where The Knowing occurs, and yet this is mostly a show in the bubble. So much of what's wrong with Third is because he's let the fantasy of romance films cloud his ability to have a mutually beneficial relationship with someone he loves. I do love when romance interrogates itself, and yet it feels like a hugely missed opportunity to discuss how queer people cannot rely on the presumptions of heteronormativity when building relationships with each other.

Moreover, I struggle with Khai's change narrative because I am not entirely certain who it's for. It reminds me of the Mulan problem, where we have a character who defies norms and expectations and it almost feels like the character exists to point to them and say, "You're not them." I have been hurt by guys like Khai, and none of them changed in a way that ever led to reconciliation for me. It's something I struggle with as I watch this, and it makes me wonder what the outcome of presenting this will be or the femmes and the gays who watch this since the Khai's of the world aren't watching.

Still, I will say that this show has incredibly fun structure if you know the major beats of the films used as the title for each episode. I think Off plays a jerk you begrudgingly want to root for really well. I think Mike actually did a really good job in this show and I apologize to Bone for being so pissy three years ago. Gun is beautiful and so easy to empathize with, but I gotta say that Third is not my favorite character of his.

I am glad @lurkingshan burned her coupons to make me revisit this show, and I've enjoyed having @waitmyturtles and @neuroticbookworm to talk about how I was feeling about things along the way. I don't think I love this show the way you three do, but it is a well-executed narrative doing some interesting things with the romance genre. My lingering hangups, and why I can't take it to a 9, have to do with the mixed bag of queerness in this. Third feels like a repressed gay, and Khai has a legit bisexual awakening, but the other cultural context being missing means it never connects for me as a queer narrative.

This is something I'm thinking about a lot as we head into Cooking Crush, because OffGun always leaves me a bit shaky on that front. On paper it's gay, but it never exactly feels gay for me.

Also tagging @twig-tea by request.

#Theory of Love #thai bl #bl series #Ben watches

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sailboatdreamer · 27 days

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Back to the Night We Met - Ch3

You wake one morning, and enjoy the serenity of the snowfall. You help Angus bond closer with Mary, and a devastating turn to the holiday occurs. Tw: mentions of death/grieving, smoking.

It was three days until Christmas. December 22nd. I’d been up late that morning, with nothing to do i relished in the extra time i got to sleep in.

9:30, my clock said. I groaned to myself. Much too late to have breakfast with the others, though for what it’s worth i got to miss out on Teddy’s usual morning insult parade.

“Whatever you say, church mouse” Is what he’d said when i’d asked him to please stop taking all the toast at breakfast yesterday.

Anyhow, i rolled out of bed in my nightgown, a soft, silk garment that made the scratchy and stiff Barton infirmary beds actually bearable. The others had since disappeared, all except for Ye-Joon, who’d been reading, curled up on his bed across the room.

“Morning…” I wave gently.

“Hello” He said back quite shyly.

“Why aren’t you with the others?” I inquire.

“Oh.. i just felt like some quiet.” I nod understandingly. Ye-Joon, not unlike myself, was quite introverted. I let him know he’s welcome to any pick from my stack of books before i left out into the hall, wandering down to the kitchen, hoping i can scavenge something for breakfast, maybe if i’m lucky there’ll still be some coffee left in the pot.

As i wander into the kitchen, i notice Teddy sitting there, a sour look on his face. I relish in the opportunity to irritate him as i come in.

“something wrong? Why the long face Kountze?”

He sneered at me. “Somebody took my picture.” I can’t help but smirk a little, realising immediately what had happened.

“Oh reaaallly? Wow- who would do that..?” He just grumbled, and didn’t really answer. I tried not to laugh. “I’m sure it’ll turn up.”

I was pleased to find that enough coffee had indeed been left in the pot for me, i took a mug of it, and a warm green sweater outside, hoping to relish in the beautiful view of the soft snowfall.

Outside there was a fair few benches in the courtyard. They provided a view out to the seemingly endless forest, the (now frozen) lake and river, and even the soft, billowing clouds of chimneys from the town over. I saw as my breath turned to cloud in the chilled air, and i decided on the bench underneath a huge stained glass window.

I thought about Mary. As much as we’d all had troubles with our families, there was nobody i had stronger sympathy for than her. I’d found her, a few mornings ago, sitting in the empty auditorium with Curtis’ memorial picture. I had gone in myself to just sit at the back, knowing it was always quiet, i read there sometimes for a change of scenery. When i’d gently pushed open the door (it squeaks if you do it fast) she’d turned to look. We didn’t exchange any words, just a simple, sympathetic look. Curtis would have been 19 this year. He was the year above me and the senior boys, but they’d told me he was so kind to the younger kids. The boys told me he’d applied to service so when he finished he’d be able to go to college because they didn’t have the finances to, it was just him and Mary after all. That day i just sat in the pew with her, some distance apart. I didn’t dare try and talk about it with her, but the least i could give her was my solidarity.

The one time Jason & I were alone in the kitchen, we were talking about it, and he’d recounted a memory he’d had with Curtis, touring the new first-year students on Introduction Day. He told me that Curtis had spent extra time with a first year student who didn’t know any of the other new kids, encouraging them to involve eachother in a group. He spoke so highly of Curtis’ compassion, and kindness. The same kindness i recognised in Mary. It broke my heart for her.

We all like to believe people get what they deserve. But the truth is, they simply don’t. It always seemed to me that good, honest people suffer too much, and those completely undeserving of good things, don’t suffer enough for what they do to others.

I was recalling this somber feeling, looking out over the fresh snow, when i’d heard the door to the courtyard open. I turn hopefully, and to my relief, it was Angus. He, i could see, had already been up for a few hours, and, parallelling my memory of Mary, came to sit by me on the bench without a word. At this point i’d finished my coffee, and placed my mug on the side-table, now just enjoying the serenity.

After a while - “It’s beautiful isn’t it? the snow?” I smiled even hearing his voice. He spoke softly, almost as if not to ruin the peace of the moment.

“It’s lovely. It almost looks like a soft blanket, though that illusion only lasts as long as before you touch it.” He nods with a smile.

“What’re you thinking about out here?” It’s a thoughtful question.

“Mary… and Curtis. Though i never got to meet him, i can see how much it’s hurting her. He seemed like a real golden boy.” He nodded knowingly.

“He was.”

A beat passes in conversation.

“I wish I could help more. But death is one of those things i guess. Nothing anybody can do, but everybody wishes they could.”

As he says so, he lights a cigarette. i look at it thoughtfully, the black smoke providing a stark contrast against the blinding snow.

“I know. It’s just sad. And it’ll be sad forever, but i think- in time you get further away from the hurt, you know? Life must go on.” We start to share the cigarette, exhaling out into the open air.

“Say, Mary does like to smoke though. Maybe we could cheer her up?” I broach the idea carefully, knowing that Mary had a distaste for the boys, not without reason, of course. But still, I wondered if taking Angus with me was the best idea.

“When Hunham fell asleep last night- i” He laughs lightly

“What did you do?”

“He- he’d drank a lot of that brandy, and i might’ve grabbed the ring of keys from his bedside when i knew he definitely was out. I mayyyyyy have done a bit of a tour of the place, and i know for a fact that Principal Endicott has a drawer filled with Marlboros. And lemon sherbets- but that’s less important.” He seems emboldened by sharing this secret with me.

“You- WOW… i can’t believe you did that!” I couldn’t help but giggle.

“I had to, i was indebted to since you brought me back my picture.”

I smile. “Did you take any out?” He smirks and nods back at me, i’m very clearly impressed.

“We should bring Mary some - last time i saw her she told me she’s rationing hers because she won’t be able to get out to town till past Christmas.” He hands me a fully wrapped packet from the pocket of his windbreaker, i turn it over in my hands with a chuckle. “Good find.”

—

When we arrived at Mary’s quarters, i led, and knocked on the door twice. We exchanged a sort of nervous look before it opened.

“Oh! What are you two doing here?” She asks, her Boston accent thick.

“It was actually Angus’ idea, he uh- came across some of these, you mentioned you’d been down on them and you wouldn’t be able to get any more before Christmas?” I pass her the pack. SHe beams at us, though does seem surprised at Angus’ involvement.

“You got these for me?” She points to Angus, he has a bit of a timid look now, far from his usual gruff and annoyed disposition.

“I did.” Mary smiles appreciatively, turning back to me.

“Well, thank you both very much. You know, not many of those boys out there even think twice about me, it means a lot to me that you have.” Her tone is warm and sweet, she reminded me of many women i’d known from home, and it filled me with so much pride to see we’ve made her happy. I admired the way her face dimpled when she smiled, even in such a hard time, she was filled with so much grace. She explained though, that she couldn’t stay and was soon needed in the kitchen to prepare whatever was in the walk-in for this evening. We let her go and start walking back to the infirmary together, sharing another cigarette. Angus was the first to talk.

“D’you think i’m back in her good graces?” He passes it to me, i inhale.

“Absolutely. Well ‘n truly.” I say affirmatively. “Though, i was quite impressed with you, i mean, you were really just sneaking about like that? All night? I mean- how did you kill the time?”

“Well, i figured if i can’t go home, i might as well make the most of my time here. I regretted not waking you up to join me, but i figured you needed the sleep. I started in the library-”

An unfamiliar, and deafening sound interrupted us, it sounded like mad whooshing and whirling, like standing too close to an airplane propeller. As we rounded the corner of the building we saw it. Jason’s dad. And his helicopter we’d been hearing about non-stop.

Angus made quick work of the cigarette, throwing it behind a pot plant quickly as to not get in trouble. The other boys were crowded on the grass around the helicopter already, and we urgently ran up to see what was going on, and with awe Jason told us; “My dad said as long as you guys can get permission from your parents, you’re welcome to come with us out to the Alps! Who can ski?”

I had never even seen a pair of skis in real life, let alone use them. I knew Angus had been itching to get out of Barton, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity, almost too good and too perfect. I did wonder about Mary though, would she feel abandoned if we all got up and left? I couldn’t do that to her.

After all the boys were taking turns phoning their parents, it was Angus’ turn and then mine.

After the third ring i knew we weren’t getting anywhere. The realisation that he’d have to stay at Barton after all absolutely crushed what was left of the joy in his face, and i felt my heart break for him. He couldn’t even get a hold of his own mother, too preoccupied in her own honeymoon to call her only son.

I saw his face start to redden, the embarrassment and shame clear on his expression.

“Hey, hey look…” I try to give him a reassuring pat on his shoulder.

“I’ll stay. I don’t need to go skiing, i don’t even know how…”

My heart swelled at his reaction, his lip trembled as he turned to me

“are you sure? I can’t- i can’t ask you to do that.” I shake my head.

“you don’t have to. I’ll stay. the snow is prettier here anyway.” I try to smile but it comes across as weak. It was his turn to shake his head. I can see in his face all he wanted was the phone to suddenly ring back, so he wouldn’t feel indebted to me, and we’d all be able to go skiing together, but it was too good to be true after all. He pulls me into a tight hug and manages a soft and whispered “Thank you.”

#angus tully #angus tully fic #angus tully x reader #da'vine joy randolph #dominic sessa #mary lamb #paul giamatti #the holdovers #the holdovers fic

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reginavulturum · 4 months

Text

Batman Beyond Series Timeline

NOTE: I created this timeline based on the idea that Terry doesn't become Batman until the second half of his sophomore year and then I just sort of pieced everything together from there and it worked out pretty well for the most part. If I've messed anything up though, please let me know. I've included some further explanations for my decisions about this timeline as well as some thoughts about how this timeline effects the series after the read more. Also it might be helpful as you read this to have the episode list on hand.

Between January and May of 2039, during the second half of Terry’s sophomore year, he becomes Batman. This time spans from “Rebirth” to “Earth Mover” with Terry becoming Batman before Spring but after he turns 16. This puts his birthday between January and, at the latest, March, assuming the Spring Fling in “Golem” happens right before Spring break. This means that Spring break of 2039 occurs between “Golem” and “Meltdown”.

Summer break 2039 occurs between mid-late May to mid-late August over the time span of “Joyride” to “Lost Soul”

The first half of Terry’s junior year begins in mid-late August of 2039 and ends sometime in late December. This time spans from “Hidden Agenda” to “Final Cut” with Winter break occurring between “Final Cut” and “The Last Resort”.

The beginning of the second half of Terry’s junior year starts sometime in January 2040 until Spring break. During this time, Terry would have turned 17. This time spans from “The Last Resort” to “Zeta”. Spring break occurs after “Zeta” and ends right around the time of “Plague”. The rest of Terry’s junior year occurs in the time span of “April Moon” to “Ace in the Hole” (approx. mid-late March to mid-late May) with “King’s Ransom” occurring either right before or right after the beginning of Summer break.

Summer of 2040 occurs from mid-late May to mid-late August. “Return of the Joker” happens sometime after “King’s Ransom” but before “Untouchable” with “Untouchable” being the last Summer episode before the new school year.

The first half of Terry’s senior year begins in mid-late August of 2040 and ends in late December. This time spans from “Inqueling” to “Unmasked”. “Out of the Past” occurs in late October. From “Out of the Past to “Unmasked”, the rest of the season takes place between November and early December. The crossover episode with “The Zeta Project”, “Shadows”, has to occur immediately after “Countdown” in either late November or early December with “Unmasked” happening shortly after that.

The “Static Shock” crossover episode “Future Shock” occurs after “Unmasked”, either right before or right after the beginning of Winter break of 2040 in late December.

The "Justice League: Unlimited" episode "Epilogue" occurs 15 years after "Rebirth" when Terry is 31.

1. The Zeta Problem

(a) In the animated series “The Zeta Project”, we’re told that Zeta (see "Going Rogue" section) broke from his programming and went on the run in early August of 2041. This timeline assumes that that date is incorrect along with any other timeline discrepancies caused by that show. “Zeta” can’t be in August if “Plague” is in March.

2. Assumptions and Explanations

(a) I know some people think that Terry’s exchange with the security guard outside Blight’s office in “Rebrith” (“little early for Halloween”/”just in time for Fall”) means that episode occurs in Fall of 2039, but sometimes a joke is just a joke and it makes more sense for the Spring Fling to occur in “Golem” two episodes later if Terry became Batman only a couple of months at most before that dance.

(b) Max likely discovers Terry is Batman towards the beginning of junior year, around late August to early September at most. I and others place this episode in Fall because a poster for a Homecoming Dance is featured in one scene and those usually happen at the beginning of the school year. I think the GAT is probably a General Aptitude Test given at the beginning of each new school year to determine where students are at academically before finalizing class schedules.

(c) In the episode “Revenant”, Terry’s reference to Willie getting out in time for junior prom after two more months in juvie could be read as “just in time for junior prom [at the end of the school year]” not that they’re necessarily two months away from the end of junior year. With Spring break happening nine episodes later, a lot more time than two months would have to pass for Willie to get out just barely in time for junior prom.

(d) The episode “Eyewitness” most likely occurs in November of 2039 since Sam Young is up for re-election as district attorney.

(e) The reason I set “Out of the Past” in late October of 2040 is because in at least one other Batman cartoon, "The Batman" (2004), Bruce's birthday is in October (see "Trivia" section). If you do a quick google search, there's like three other birthdays/months listed for Bruce across the DC multiverse so I just went with the one that was most convenient to my timeline and I make no apologies.

(f) I tend to think that “The Call” had to occur during Thanksgiving break because I can’t imagine Mary would have let Bruce send Terry to Metropolis if he wasn't on break, but that’s just an assumption.

(g) I believe Terry’s training with Kairi began around the start of his senior year and continued through until part 2 of “Curse of the Kobra”. I believe the events we see through most of part 1 of “Curse of the Kobra” occurred over the same span of time that passes between “Inqueling” and “Betrayal”. Mostly I believe this is the case because Terry’s training probably would have taken months and thinking of it this way makes the timline a bit tidier.

(h) I set “Future Shock” right after “Unmasked” because KOBRA has a new leader (Zander is gone) and I kept it in December on the timeline because Terry looks dressed for cold weather.

(i) In the "Justice League: Unlimited" episode "Epilogue", Terry says that he was 16 when he became Batman. Some people think that means he didn't become Batman until the beginning of his junior year, but it's just as possible he became Batman during the second half of sophomore year if he has a birthday between January to March at the absolute latest (see my first bullet point for why). We know "Epilogue" occurs 15 years after "Rebirth" because Dana says she and Terry have been dating for 15 years and we know they likely didn't start dating until just before "Rebirth" when they were 16.

3. Rebirth Recontextualized

(a) Assuming “Big Time” occurs in September to early October of 2040 and we know Charlie Bigelow spent two years in jail, than he and Terry must have gone to prison sometime in September to early October of 2038. This would’ve been during the first half of Terry’s sophomore year and explains why in “Rebirth” he’s been split up from Matt (his parents think he’s a bad influence) and why things are so tense between him and Warren. If Terry was arrested in September/early October and did 3 months then he might not have gotten out of juvie until around late December/winter break, right before the series starts during the second half of his sophomore year. It seems that between his release and becoming Batman is when he and Dana got together since Mary talks like she doesn’t really know her in “Rebirth”. He’s basically just a couple months out of juvie when he becomes Batman.

(b) The first comic featuring Batman was published in March of 1939, so “Batman Beyond” starting around the same time of year in 2039 is really satisfying. As it happened, it was fairly easy to fit a timeline around that start time without too much finagling.

#batman beyond #dcau #batman beyond timeline #terry mcginnis #this is the timeline I use when writing Batman Beyond fanfic #I spent a morning and most of an afternoon feeling somewhat possessed as I created this timeline in a state of hyperfixation 2 weeks ago #it's been edited many times since then including a few times today #this post is mostly a reference for me but I want to be able to show it to other people if they have questions about my BB fanfics' timelin #anyway here's a fun fact for anyone who bothers to read the tags #Earth-1 Batman and my Mom share a birthday

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