#bearing in mind these same eighteen/nineteen years olds were the same ones who tried to mansplain to me that the wage gap doesn't exist

[flyingraijin]

so i didn't know who andrew tate was when i read your post but i did a google search and babygirl lemme join you i have plushies and quilts 😭

- 🌈

i begggg i've just completely lost faith in humanity at this point. and what makes me so much more angry is the fact that there were a bunch of eighteen/nineteen year olds (grown ass ADULTS) encouraging this kid?!?!?!? and they were laughing and joking around and stuff. like, i usually could not give a fck about other people's opinions on shit but encouraging a child to idolise andrew tate??? i am so done :/

#💙 blue answers #bearing in mind these same eighteen/nineteen years olds were the same ones who tried to mansplain to me that the wage gap doesn't exist #should i be surprised? #anyway #apologise for the rant

[gravelyhumerus]

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Ten

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Total word count: 47,939

Summary:

Emily tries apple cider, things get corny, Spencer wins a prize, and the night ends with a kiss.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months. Takes place over the span of the first semester of their sophomore year.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

“See, I told you it was good,” JJ grinned up at Emily, adjusting the blue scarf that was wrapped tightly around her own neck against the cool air. 

Emily licked her lips as she held a paper cup filled to the brim with apple cider tightly in her hands. 

“Ok fine,” Emily admitted, “You were right, cider is good.”

JJ watched as she took another sip, as a smile spread across her face at the taste. JJ knew she was right, that apple cider at a fall fair always tasted better than anything from the grocery store. 

The two of them walked across the leaf-strewn grass, trailing behind their friends to talk. When JJ had told Penelope about her conversation with Emily about how the girl had never been to a fall fair, her roommate insisted that they rally the troops to make it happen. 

Both JJ and Emily still had a lingering cough, but other than that, they had just about made a full recovery. Somehow, the others had escaped coming down with the same thing, and so all of them were able to make the trek to the other side of their college town to attend the fair. JJ had the day off from soccer, a rare thing these days with playoffs imminent, and during essay season, and she intended to make the most of it. 

JJ kept catching Emily looking at her. It was the same way that a wild animal would look at her if she was offering food, nervous, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She could tell something was bothering her. But knew the more she probed, the more Emily would shut down. 

She wondered if Emily felt awkward after sleeping in her bed, and worried that she had pushed things too far. JJ had been forward, and felt slightly guilty about that, but in her own feverish state, her sole focus had been to make sure Emily was alright. JJ reminded herself that Emily was here, and hadn’t run from her despite all that had happened. She could take a slightly closed-down Emily over none at all, any day. 

The fair itself was located on a farm on the outskirts of the city. Their school had arranged for a shuttle bus to facilitate this wholesome entertainment for their undergrads. It deposited them on a muddy grass field filled with carnival games, a midway, vendors and miscellaneous fall themed activities.

Golden leaves shone in the sunlight, and JJ raised her face to feel its warmth. It was a nice day, the first after weeks of rain. Her wool sweater was more for the fall festivities than for warmth, as it was pleasant outside, but she knew once the sun set she would be grateful for it. 

Emily was looking as beautiful as ever, wearing a maroon turtleneck underneath a black corduroy jacket that looked soft to the touch. Her lips matched, painted with a dark purple-red hue that made her look elegant and mysterious.

She hoped that today would be fun for Emily, knowing that the girl missed out on a lot of the childhood staples of the average American, and JJ wanted to rectify it. Hopefully it would also ease some of the tension between them as well. 

JJ gasped when she saw the petting zoo near the entrance, which was a spacious zone filled with chickens, goats, two llamas, some sheep, cows, and most importantly, the most beautiful horse she’d seen in ages. It was, in fact, the only horse she’d seen up close since that summer, and it was quite scruffy up close.

In her excitement, she found herself reaching out her hand, grasping Emily’s and pointing as she exclaimed: “Horse!” 

She internally cringed at her own behaviour, but Emily looked excitedly where she pointed and followed at her side as she veered towards the animals. 

The horse was a brown gelding, with a black mane and a stripe down his nose. As JJ approached he leaned his head over the fence in anticipation of some treats. Slowing down, JJ approached, still hand in hand with Emily, quietly and calmly so that she didn’t startle him. 

His brown eyes watched her, his ears forward and relaxed, and leaned into her outstretched hand as she reached to pet his nose. JJ’s cold bare hand met warm horse face and her mind flashed back to all the times she rode her grandmother’s horse as a kid.

“He looks like Socks,” JJ giggled, as the horse tried to nibble gently at her sweater, “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

“Socks?” Emily asked, with a quizzical look on her face, keeping distance between her and the horse. 

The others caught up with them, milling about the petting zoo and interacting with the various animals. Derek and Penelope bought some feed with a quarter from the dispenser and used the flat of their hands to feed some sheep.

“One of my grandma’s horses,” JJ explained, “His name was Socks. He was her favourite and when she got too old to ride, I would.”

“You ride horses?” Emily asked. 

“Not that well,” JJ admitted, “But Socks was patient with me.”

Noticing Emily’s hesitance, JJ smiled at her, trying to reassure her friend. 

“Do you want to pet him?” 

Emily nodded. JJ guided her hand onto his neck, leading her as she stroked it gently. A look of awe crossed Emily’s face and JJ couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. 

JJ removed her hand and let Emily take over, watching as the horse nuzzled Emily, taking great interest in her hair. JJ reached her hand out—and just in time—moved his mouth away just as he attempted to take a mouthful.

“Don’t be rude,” JJ exclaimed, guiding his face away from her friends hair, “That’s not for you.”

Emily’s jaw had dropped, holding onto her hair in horror. 

“They do that sometimes,” JJ explained. 

Emily nodded sagely before nervously returning to give him another pat, her reservations clear on her face.

“Why Socks?” Emily asked, after a moment. 

“He had white marks on his legs,” she explained, “They looked like socks.”

“Seems reasonable,” she said. 

The crew left the petting zoo and walked towards the carnival games area. A wave of nostalgia hit JJ like a truck. Every fall when she was a kid, she and her sister would always beg her for their parents to take them to the fair, insisting that they play all of the games and go on the rides multiple times. In retrospect, it probably cost a ton of money which they definitely could not afford, but her parents would hand them a stack of tickets and let themselves be dragged around the fair by the two girls. 

JJ closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of popcorn, funnel cake and corn dogs—not altogether an entirely pleasant smell—but one that brought her back to being six years old and walking hand-in-hand with her sister.

Emily knocked their shoulders lightly, the motion bringing JJ back into the present, locking eyes with Emily.  

She couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that this was Emily’s first fall fair. The other girl looked onto the attractions with apprehension, gawking at the sheer mass of fried food and the loud rides and hordes of people swarming the games. 

“These games are all rigged,” JJ explained. “They’re next to impossible to win.” 

“But you can win,” Emily said, a challenge in her voice. 

JJ nodded.

“I’ve seen some folks walking around with that bear at least,” JJ gestured at a fuzzy brown teddy bear that sat on the top shelf of the dart game’s prize shelf. Other prizes included dangling stuffed snakes and some other plastic toys. 

“It’s cute,” Emily commented, smiling up at the bear.  

JJ smiled as her whole group went head to head on the water gun game, lined up in a row and shooting at the targets as if they were at a shooting range. Each played the game with the focus and determination as if it were a life or death situation, and not a carnival game. 

After, they all spread out around the stalls of games, competing with each other or going it alone as they played games that interested them. 

Emily’s smile kept crossing JJ’s mind as the games wore on, and the thought of that bear stuck in her mind. It’s cute, Emily had said. JJ could get it for her. She was great at darts. 

JJ circled back to the dart game, slamming a five dollar bill on the table and getting a handful of darts. She tossed one. The balloon popped. Another. Pop. Another. Pop. She hit every single one she threw. 

This was harder than it looked, as the balloons were barely filled, it needed a lot of force, and a wicked aim to pop them. JJ, luckily, had both. 

“Pick something from the first shelf,” the employee told her. 

JJ frowned, looking at the fluorescent stuffed animals on the first row. They looked cheap, and none were as cute as the bear, which sat between a monkey and a rabbit on the top shelf. 

“How do I get the bear?” she asked. 

“Win again,” he said, with an apathetic shrug. He was just a teenager, probably only getting paid minimum wage. JJ couldn’t help but glower at him.

JJ sighed, paying him for another round. She knew that the toy itself was worthless, but it wasn’t about that. It was about winning it for Emily. 

“What are you doing?” A voice asked her from behind as she lined up her next shot. 

Spencer. He was standing to her right, clutching a plastic bag in his hands. He wore a pair of sunglasses and smiled awkwardly in greeting. 

“Darts,” JJ answered, “What does it look like?”

She looked at the bag. It was clear and filled with water, with a small goldfish swimming around inside. 

“You won a fish?” JJ asked.

“Yup,” Spencer said, gesturing over at a game that was essentially beer pong, but instead of cups full of alcohol, it was a series of fish tanks. 

He explained that he had won on his first try, and now was a proud owner of a goldfish. JJ was certain it would die before they got back to residence, but decided not to burst his bubble. The kid was smiling at his fish, looking proud of himself. 

JJ turned back to the game and focused on an orange balloon that waved in the wind. She threw. Hit. The balloon popped. 

“I just want that damned bear,”  JJ hissed, gripping the dart tight in her hand. 

“Why?” Spencer asked, his forehead furrowed. 

“Why” was a great question! For my not-girlfriend because I’m just such a good friend, was the answer, but she wasn’t going to say that . Because I want her to like me, and I want her to date me, but I can’t work up the courage to ask her. Because she might be gay, but might not, and I haven’t even asked her that. Because all I want is for her to smile. 

JJ sighed. 

“I want to win it for Emily, ok?” JJ said.

“You could buy her a nicer bear if you wanted with this money,” he pointed out. 

“I know,” JJ said, aiming her dart. Another hit. “I just have to hit three more and then I win.”

JJ was being pointedly obtuse, she knew if she began to explain, it would all come rushing out. She could handle Penelope’s teasing, but that was her limit. 

Spencer began to speak, but she shushed him. She threw another. Hit. The balloon popped with a satisfying pop. Two more. 

Reid held his fish up to his face, examining it close up. Just as she was about to throw her last shot, she felt a hand clap her on the back in the unmistakable gesture of Derek Morgan greeting her. 

“What’re we playing, kids?” he asked. 

“JJ wants the bear,” Spencer informed him. “For Emily.”

Derek grinned at her. JJ ignored both of them, squinting at a bright red balloon and taking her aim.

Pop. She did it. Both Derek and Spencer cheered for her, despite their earlier misgivings. JJ slapped the metal barrier between her and the employee in glee as he nodded approvingly at her achievement. 

The employee used a telescopic grabber to lift the bear off a tall shelf and handed it to her with a smile. 

She hugged the bear to her chest, elated with her accomplishment despite Derek’s probing looks. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with Emily’s best friend these days. He seemed to know something that she didn’t, and she caught him smiling at her and Emily when they spoke. 

JJ was relieved when he shifted his attention to discussing the logistics of goldfish ownership with Reid.

The three of them wandered through the stalls, taking a break for Reid and Morgan to pick up candy apples, then ran back into the rest of the group. Penelope, Hotch, Rossi and Emily were still at the water gun booth, cheering Emily on as she played against a boy that looked like he was about their age. 

A bell rang, and a light flashed over Emily’s head. She had won. 

JJ walked up behind her, watching as Emily got to point out her prize. She pointed to the exact same bear as JJ had tucked behind her back. 

“JJ will love it,” Penelope said to Emily, neither girl knowing that JJ was right behind them. 

“Love what?” JJ said, confused. 

Emily turned around looking at JJ, clutching the bear to her chest. 

“Uh, you said you saw these bears around,” Emily said, “I thought you might want one.”

Derek and Spencer both burst into laughter, as JJ felt blush creep over her face. Emily held the bear out to her, with a shy look on her face. To her left, Penelope’s jaw had dropped and both Hotch and Rossi’s usually serious expressions were filled with bemusement. 

JJ pulled out the bear from behind her back and presented it to Emily. Both girls were holding identical bears out to each other, each having independently decided to win it for the other. 

“This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Penelope squealed. 

JJ and Emily exchanged identical bears, both feeling quite silly. JJ was speechless, simply grinning at Emily, who smiled down at her. 

Hotch broke the silence after a minute, pointing to what was in Spencer’s hand. “Is that a fish?” 

   “We should do the corn maze next!” Penelope squealed, pointing at the painted wooden sign leading towards a field with what looked like an endless maze. 

“Mazes are actually quite simple,” Reid said, “You have to hug the right side wall for the duration of the maze and you will eventually reach the exit. It beats getting hopelessly lost in the hopes of entertainment.” 

“That’s one way to do it,” Hotch commented, looking over to a smirking Rossi.

“Come on Reid,” Derek chastised, throwing an arm around his shoulder, “You couldn’t possibly think that’s the best way of doing it.

“How do you suggest we should approach it?” Spencer asked as he shrugged Derek’s arm off of him.

“You gotta get a feel for it,” Derek replied. “Remember where you came from.”

Spencer made a non committal noise.

“Getting lost comes with the territory,” Derek added, “It’s part of the fun.”

Emily gave him a look, but didn’t contribute to the debate. 

“You won’t be saying that when you’re lost, cold and surrounded by corn,” Spencer retorted.

“He’s got a point about the corn,” Hotch quipped. 

“I’ve never seen this much corn in my life,” Emily admits, “I haven’t spent much time around farms.”

Emily touched her hair absentmindedly,reminded of the horse trying to eat it from earlier in the afternoon. “Aren’t you a farmgirl, JJ?” Derek teased.

“No!” she said, “I lived in the suburbs near Pittsburgh. She lived an hour away so we’d visit on the weekends and on holidays.”

“They had cows!” Penelope blurted, “She showed me pictures once. They’re so cute as babies.”

JJ nodded, she loved visiting her grandma when she was little. She and Ros would be allowed to collect the eggs in the morning, and JJ always loved grabbing hay for the horses. 

“What’s your take on mazes?” Derek asked her, “Oh farm girl?”

JJ punched his shoulder in retaliation.

“I say that you two should put your money where your mouth is,” JJ said, “See whose method works in the end.”

“You talking about a race?” Derek asked. 

“That seems only fair,” Emily said, “Since both of you have such strong opinions on how to go about tackling this maze. Let’s see who’s right.”

“Shall we split up?” Hotch asked.

“Very Scooby-Doo of you, sir,” Penelope cooed, “I like it.”

Hotch did not acknowledge this beyond a glare. 

As they approached the maze entrance, a teenage girl, a bit younger than them and wearing a green shirt branded with the name of the farm handed them a map and began to explain the rules of the maze. No smoking, drinking, cheating by ducking under the red ribbon that marked the paths, she told them.

She then offered them a map, a black and white printout that marked out the route. 

“No thanks,” Derek said in a haughty tone, “We’ll figure it out ourselves.”

“I legally have to give it to you,” the girl said, her braces giving her a slight lisp. “It’s a safety issue.”

Derek and Spencer looked at each other, each taking a map, but folding it up and placing it in their pockets. Hotch also took a map, as did Emily. 

“I call dibs on Der-bear,” Penelope said, wrapping her arms around his bicep. “And JJ will go with Emily of course.”

“I’ll follow the wall,” Hotch says, “Reid, you better be right about this wall thing.”

Rossi looked around and seemed to decide to see whether the boy-genius was onto something or not. 

JJ felt a little shy at the assumption that she and Emily would naturally be together. Penelope was getting more and more bold with her attitude towards the two girls. 

The teams set out into the maze, splitting up at the first fork in the road, the boys staying right, Derek and Penelope heading straight ahead, and JJ and Emily veering left.

“What do you think of your first fair?” JJ asked, fiddling with the stuffed bear in her hands. 

They trudged through the muddy maze, with the sound of the fair in the distance, a pleasant hum of music and the clamour of the rides. 

“It’s not what I expected,” Emily said, “I only really saw this stuff in movies.”

“Better or worse than you imagined?” she asked. 

“Better,” Emily said, “but that’s probably just the company.”

“Good friends make a difference,” JJ said. 

“Yeah,” she agreed, “friends.”

JJ hummed, smiling as she felt the breeze in her hair. She loved the outdoors. She spent way too much time cooped up in the library these days. Emily, on the other hand, was picking her way through, careful not to step in any puddles or trip on fallen corn stalks. 

“Left or right?” Emily asked as they neared an intersection.

“Right,” JJ said. 

They headed deeper into the maze, turning left, then right, then hitting a dead end and back tracking. The corn rose above their heads, limiting their vision to a few feet in front of, and behind, them at all times. 

A few times, they bickered over directions, as JJ was certain that they were walking in circles. 

“How long was this supposed to take us?” Emily said, after twenty minutes passed. 

“Not this long,” JJ admitted. 

“Where are we?”

“I have no idea.”

She stopped, and paused waiting for Emily to do the same. JJ listened hard, straining her ears to listen for the direction of the music. 

“I can’t hear the carnival anymore,” JJ said, “We must be on the far end of the maze.” 

“Are we lost?” Emily asked. 

“I think that’s the whole point of it,” JJ said with a laugh. “Let’s head this way.”

“Should we check the map?” Emily asked. 

“Sure.”

Emily looked at JJ expectantly. 

“ You took the map, Em,” JJ said with a laugh. 

“No I didn’t,” Emily replied. She rifled through her pockets, then held up her hands in a gesture of: see? Nothing!

She checked her own pockets, and inside the small purse hanging over her shoulder. No map. 

“You sure you don’t have it?” JJ asked, hearing the stress in her voice. 

Emily’s eyes widened, checking her own pockets more frantically. 

Neither had it. JJ began to laugh. Of course she’d get lost in a corn maze with Emily. Of course. 

JJ’s phone pinged. Penelope had texted her.

Penny G: where are you? are you making out in the corn? 

JJ: no, we’re lost. are you all done already?

Penny G: yup. Spencer was a few minutes behind us  

“They’re already out,” JJ explained to Emily. 

“Figures,” Emily huffed. 

Penny G: we can wait for you? we’re going to try the rides 

JJ: i’ll text you when we get out, go ahead

JJ slipped her phone back into her pocket, noticing Emily poking at the edge of the corn with her hands, trying to peer through. 

“More corn,” Emily said, sounding defeated. 

JJ thought for a second, trying to weigh their options. 

“Get on my shoulders,” JJ blurted. 

“What?” 

“So you can see,” JJ said, “I’ll lift you up.” 

Emily looked flustered for a moment, opening and closing her mouth at the thought, but eventually nodded. 

JJ knelt down slightly, letting Emily put her legs on either side of her head. JJ knew she was strong. She could lift more than double her own weight at the gym. Once Emily was settled, she lifted her with ease, standing straight up and holding onto her thighs with her hands to steady Emily. 

“I see, uh, a highway behind us, more fields,” Emily said, then JJ turned a bit to give her another angle, “We’re almost there. We’re on the far right side, but the path is fairly clear. We go left, then it doubles back. But I think I can get us out of here.”

JJ stumbled under Emily’s shifting weight as she turned, finding herself tilting forward before she could adjust, tipping forward and sending both girls tumbling into the corn. 

Emily landed on top of JJ, their limbs tangled, with a loud “fuck!” as they made contact with the mud.   

JJ sat up, rubbing the back of her head where Emily had accidentally kicked her. 

“Sorry,” JJ said, “are you ok?”

Emily sat up, rubbing her wrist which caught most of her weight. Both girls had come out of the fall mostly unscathed.  

“The corn broke my fall,” Emily said with a laugh. 

They burst into laughter, and JJ reached out her hands to help Emily up. 

The girls retrieved their bears, both unsure whose was whose, and began to make their escape from the corn. 

Emily navigated them out of the maze, which, despite their tumble, made JJ’s idea worthwhile. 

“I don’t think I ever want to see corn again,” Emily said as they left the maze. 

“I guess you won’t have roasted corn for dinner?” 

“God no.”

They laughed. 

For the next hour or so, they visited the midway, braving an assortment of spinning rides that bore names like The Annihilator, and The Brain Blender, that were next to carousels and other rides clearly meant for children. 

JJ had a blast, she was definitely an adrenaline junky and the rides gave her the same endorphin high as sports. 

Emily was clearly nervous, but was a good sport. She took a couple rides off, claiming to need to babysit Spencer’s new fish (he decided it was too cold out for the goldfish, so he had been wrapping it in his coat to keep it warm. Emily did the same during her time as babysitter as Spencer rode the ride.)

The sun began to set, and as the sky filled with colours, the carnival lights dazzled them, glowing in a rainbow of incandescent light. 

“One more ride?” Hotch asked them, as he noticed their energy fading and their stomachs growling. 

“The Ferris wheel!” Penelope announced, “we have to.”

“The last Ferris wheel I was on was the London eye,” Emily commented. 

“We’ll miss jet setter,” Derek replied, “this will probably be a bit less glamorous.” 

They waited in line for it, laughing and goofing around. JJ smiled at her friends, while her nerves grew in her stomach. She tugged on her sister’s necklace, pulling it tight against the back of her neck to calm her. 

“Hey,” Emily whispered, “what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” JJ said back, quietly. “Just a little nervous with heights.”

Emily smiled down at her, with no trace of judgment on her face, and JJ softened. 

“Didn’t you just ride The Bonebreaker earlier?” Emily asked, talking about a ride that locked them in a cage, and flipped them in punishing rotations. 

“Those are different,” JJ said as tucked her hair behind her ears, trying to find the words to explain. “You’re strapped in, and there’s a cage. Ferris wheels have just the bar. You’re exposed.”

“Are you good to do it?” Emily asked, concern etched into her features.

“Yeah, of course,” JJ said, setting her shoulders back and gritting her jaw. “I’m not actually scared.”

JJ forced herself to relax, making good on her promise, leaning onto the chilly metal barricade. She was so happy that her little troupe of Penelope and Spencer had expanded to include all of these new people. Their dynamic was fun, and warm, and felt… right. 

“This would be a beautiful photo,” Penelope exclaimed, pulling out her phone and gesturing at the whole group to get in close. 

JJ turned to face the camera, smiling wide and meaning it. Reid and Emily wrapped their arms around her shoulders, and she was squished into the big group of friends. She felt the happiest she had felt in years, despite the creeping fear building up inside her. 

The line moved quickly and they were shuffled into their seats, two by two. Emily and JJ were together, like before, and soon they were slowly lifted into the sky, side by side. 

“It’s beautiful,” Emily gasped.

She looked down onto the fair, leaning forward as she gazed into the quickly shrinking fairgrounds. 

Emily’sbeautiful, JJ thought, looking at her friend as she looked out into the night. 

“Yeah,” JJ agreed, feeling a touch of vertigo, breathing deep to keep calm. 

“Thanks for bringing me,” Emily said. 

JJ clutched the bear tightly, as though someone was going to take it away from her.  

“I told you that you’d like it,” JJ said, focusing on Emily’s face instead of the height. 

“I admit it,” Emily said. “I like apple cider. Fairs are fun. I’m a country girl now.” 

“Not yet,” JJ said, “we’ll work on that.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Emily said with a smile. 

The Ferris wheel slowly turned as new passengers boarded, raising them higher into the air until they were at the very top, when they stopped. 

Emily leaned forward, then back, making the chair swing slightly. JJ gasped as her stomach clenched, the fear of her plummeting to her death high on her mind. 

JJ realized that her hand had shot out and now rested upon Emily’s. The other girl did not pull away. 

“Sorry,” Emily giggled. “I had to.”

JJ glowered at her, but knew she was kidding and wouldn’t actually put her in danger. They rested at the top of the Ferris wheel, their chair swaying slightly, hand in hand for a few minutes. 

JJ shifted closer to Emily, mentally telling herself that she was doing it to get closer to the warmth. Emily leaned towards her, allowing their shoulders to meet softly. 

“We’ve been at the top for awhile,” JJ said, a little nervously. “Do you think it’s stuck?”

“I can’t imagine these things get stuck,” Emily assured her, “it’s probably someone getting off or on.”

This did nothing to quell the bundle of nerves in JJ’s stomach. She clutched the bar even tighter. 

“JJ look at me,” Emily said, her voice soft, but stern. 

JJ complied, tearing her eyes away from the ground far below her feet and focusing on Emily, sitting right next to her, feeling her warmth radiate out from her hand. 

“You’re ok,” Emily said, calmly. “Don’t worry.”

JJ believed her, knowing that whenever they were together, nothing ever seemed to go wrong. 

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the world faded away. JJ got lost in her warm brown eyes that looked at her with concern. Emily had done a perfect wing of eyeliner, sharp on the corner, and covered her lid with a neutral brown eyeshadow. Emily was so beautiful. Her brows framed her eyes so perfectly, forming a graceful arch. Her cheekbones were sharp and her smile warm, but rare on the serious girl’s face. JJ took her in, relishing the moment to look unheeded. 

JJ felt Emily’s grip on her hand tighten, and there was something about her eyes that beckoned her closer. JJ felt herself, acting almost on autopilot, leaning towards Emily as if she’d done it before.

Emily’s arm, which was thrown casually over the back of the chair, wrapped around JJ’s shoulders, pulling her oh so slightly closer. An invitation.

Without thinking, JJ found herself just inches from Emily, their breaths mixing as their foreheads touched. 

Jennifer Jareau couldn’t believe this was happening, that Emily Prentiss, the girl across the hall, who she had been pining over for months, was probably about to kiss her. 

She did not think of the billion ways this complicated their friendship, or the fact that she didn’t know if she could even handle jumping back into a relationship, or how she was thirty feet in the air on a rusty ferris wheel, all she could think about was the idea of Emily’s lips on hers. 

Their lips met. Before this moment, JJ thought the phrase “sparks flying” was an exaggeration, but the electricity that she felt when Emily kissed her set JJ’s body on fire. 

Her lips were soft, velvety, perfect. At first, it was chaste, with their hands nervously still holding onto the railing. Then, it deepened, lips moving slowly against the other. Emily’s hand moved from on top of hers up to her face, pulling her closer than before. JJ did the same, tangling her fingers into Emily’s black hair. Their matching stuffed bears were squished between them. 

JJ’s mouth opened, and Emily’s tongue gained entrance, rubbing against JJ’s. It felt heavenly, and in that moment JJ decided that she didn’t want to do anything else in life but kiss Emily. 

Their kiss was gentle, yet needy, with a passion that made JJ’s head spin. Emily’s hands rested delicately on her face, stroking her cheek, and wrapped almost protectively around her back. 

The two girls only came up for breath, kissing like their life depended on it. 

JJ felt her heart race, but a wave of calm washed over her. It felt like a kiss she had had a thousand times, and one she would have a thousand more. As familiar as something that she had experienced in her past lives, and something she knew she wanted to do for the rest of this one. 

Suddenly, the chair rocked, and the Ferris wheel roared back to life.

They pulled apart, looking away from each other and catching their breath. JJ could feel a blush rise up her face as Emily tugged her arm out from behind JJ’s back.

Neither made eye contact as the Ferris wheel spun around, the carnival blurring out as they picked up speed. 

They turned once, twice, a third time, before it slowed to a stop and people began to exit. 

JJ no longer felt the acute fear of heights tug at her stomach, on the contrary, now it was the knowledge that she had just made out with her floormate weighing on her mind. 

Her head was spinning and her lips tingled with the memory of the kiss. Her blood roared in her ears, as anxiety took over as her brain flashed with all of the million ways this could go terribly wrong. 

Wordlessly, they dismounted and waited quietly for the rest of their group, who all babbled about how pretty the wheel was and how Derek wouldn’t stop swaying the chair. JJ scanned their faces, wondering if anyone could tell what had happened.

JJ drifted alongside the group, lost in her thoughts, unable to meet Emily’s eye, clutching her bear tightly to her chest all the way home.

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds tv #jemily #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #emily x jj #prentiss x jj #Jennifer John Jareau #gravelyhumerus cm college au #my post #my writing #sweater weather au #this chapters over 5k but its a good one i hope #this one lives up to the name of being my sweater weather au #dm me for tag list!!! #ill be doing one after this chapter

[merakiaes]

His Reason - Arthur Shelby

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x reader

Requested: By @arthurobsessed​

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: This is just a little narrative story, no dialogue. It’s a bit short and messy, and not proofread so sorry in advance for any mistakes xD

Wordcount: 1966

Summary: A bit of fluff for a younger Arthur.  

The first time you met Arthur, it wasn’t love at first sight.

Your love for him formed gradually. His personality, his voice, his hair, his eyes, his humor, the way he looked away and blushed whenever you would catch him staring; gradually it all came clear to you that he was exactly what you were looking for.

But Arthur, oh, he was doomed from the second Tommy brought you home the first time. You had a good sense of humor, a dirty mind, and a beautiful heart; a deadly combination that had him falling on the spot.

You were the same age as Tommy and you had been in the same class in school ever since the start. You didn’t have an easy time making friends as a child as you were too outspoken and hyperactive for most girls your age to be able to handle, so you just ended up tagging along with Tommy and Freddie through your years in school.

With his drunk and irresponsible dad, Tommy had never dared to take you home or introduce him to any of his family members. Usually, when the three of you spent time together after school, you would be at yours or Freddie’s house.

John was the only one other than Tommy himself that had met you out of the entire Shelby clan, as he had been in a few years under you in school and you had met him briefly a few times when coming out after class alongside his brother.

But the others, you had never met. Not until their dad ran out of them in 1908, when Tommy finally got to take you home and introduce you to his family.

You had been eighteen at the time, and Arthur twenty-one. Finn had just been born and their mother had died in childbirth, having their dad running out on them like the lowlife he was.

Arthur had been in another room when you first arrived that Thursday afternoon, so Polly, John and Ada got to meet you first.

When the time came around when he finally joined you in the kitchen, you were all sitting around the dinner table waiting for him, and he only had to take one look into your eyes to know that you were the one he wanted to spend his entire life with.

Gradually, you started spending more time with the oldest of the Shelby children. Everyone told you to stay away, but it was hard to resist a bad boy who was a good man, and you fell for him quicker than you would have liked to admit.

He was bad. He smoked, he broke the law, he drove too fast for his own good. He didn’t care because no one taught him to.

But when it came to you, he wanted to be the best man. He couldn’t bear the thought of you being hurt by him, or by anyone else. He would kill to protect you, the girl who cared about someone as worthless as him in all your perfection.

But your relationship hadn’t started so gracefully as you might have thought. Quite the opposite really.

Despite being reckless and violent, yelling and fight everyone who even looked at him the wrong way, Arthur was a whole flustered mess around you, despite being twenty-one years of age.

The second you came around, he would get quiet and blush. You really had him on a leash tighter than a nun’s mossy cleft on Easter Sunday.

His heart was a beating split personality. One side was a warrior, constantly kicking ass and swallowing the names that dared to venture there, while the other side was a child; stumbling, stuttering, awkward and unsure of everything he had ever loved.

And you, you were just the opposite of him.

While he was a mess of a bloody nose, bruised knuckles, fighting, yelling, cursing and doing practically everything he wasn’t supposed to be doing, you were like a flower in comparison to him.

Unlike other girls, you never wore dresses. Instead, you matched pretty, colorful blouses with flowery patterns with your older brothers’ way too big cargo pants and dirty boots. Quite the combo.

You wrote poems and short love stories, always carrying around a notebook filled with neat, cursive writings and pressed flowers in between the pages.

You loved to read and sit in silence, were so fascinated with the stars that you could go on for hours upon hours about them, and while Arthur smelled of rusty blood, cigarettes and dirt, you smelled of fresh pears; exactly like the ones his mother would grow in their country side house when he was a little boy.

You reminded him of her, of home in general, and your presence made him feel confident in himself and feel like he was actually worth a life. But still, he couldn’t bring himself to be anything but flustered around you.

The first time he tried asking you out, you actually had to shut his rambling up by kissing him, taking him by so much surprise he stumbled and fell on a stone, resulting in both of you tumbling to the ground.

He had never been a lady’s man, so while that hadn’t been your first kiss, it had been his. You were his first everything. First kiss, first time, first love.

From that day forward, he followed you around wherever you went and did everything in his power to make you happy.

He always held your hand in public, but while you were really confident and at ease, he was awkward. He brought you flowers to put in your notebook, tried his best to write you romantic notes every once in a while – and failing miserably - and would just sit and watch you while you wrote, listening to the scratching of your pen against the paper.

He followed you around the point where you, sometimes, would have to hide from him in order to get things done. But most of the times, you didn’t mind the attention, because quite frankly, you were just as annoying to him.

During the winters, you would be an ass and put your cold hands down his neck, always making him let out a string of curse words. During your first Christmas together, you knitted him a Christmas sweater that was absolutely awful, but he still wore it, getting laughed at by both you and his family the entire day.

The first time you got intimate was the night after Christmas, in front of the fire place when Polly had taken the others out for the market.

Arthur made it more awkward than it had to be, fumbling with everything and just being generally embarrassed through the entire thing while you tried your best to make him stop worrying.

Afterwards, he had proceeded to tell you that he wanted to marry you, have children with you, and take care of you until you were old and gray.

Keeping in mind that this had only been two and a half months into your romantic relationship, he had panicked immediately and feared that he would scare you off by moving to fast. He really had no idea how to act around you, despite the two of you now being an official couple.

But rather than getting up and leaving him right then and there like he fretted, you had just shut his rambling up with a laugh and a kiss just like you had done the first time he had tried asking you out.

You stayed with each other for six whole years and grew more and more as a couple for every passing day. Eventually, you were pretty much inseparable.

Tommy, having been the first one to know you, loved you to bits and pieces. You were still very close, despite you having gotten together with his brother. But the others loved you as well.

You would help Polly with errands and around the house whenever she was busy with Finn and would help with Finn too whenever she had an errand that could only be run by herself and Arthur was too busy working to help out.

Ada looked up to you like you were her own sister, and so did John, the second youngest of the Shelbys growing fiercely protective over you the older he got.

Arthur never stopped bragging about you to everyone, despite most of the people in his inner circle already knowing you. Every time he would talk about you he would have the hugest, proudest smile on his lips and he wouldn’t be able to wipe it off.

But while he kept this quality, he eventually grew out of the awkward young man he had been when he first met you, getting more confident and bolder when he realized you wouldn’t be leaving him anytime soon.

He didn’t understand why you stayed, though. He never did.

You saw what a mess he could be, how moody he could get and how hard he could be to handle, but you still wanted him, for whatever reason.

He only saw himself for his faults, still scarred from his father being able to walk out on him without as much of a goodbye. But to you, he was so much more.

He might have had a temper but he was a good man. He was by no means perfect, but he was hardworking and would go above and beyond to make you happy.

He was imperfect but working towards being a better man every day for your sake, protecting you in any way he could from right beside you until the war struck and he had to go protect you from France alongside Tommy and John, the latter just having turned nineteen.

And he just had the worst imaginable timing, managing to knock you up right before he left, leaving you to raise your first-born daughter with only Polly by your side.

You exchanged letters with him all through the four years he was away, updating him on your daughter’s growth and the business, and making sure that he kept safe and that he knew how much you missed him.

You also exchanged letters with Tommy and John, the two of them telling you on more occasions than you could count that Arthur would worry about you moving on from him in his absence to the point where he would actually throw up.

But his worries never came true, as you had been at the train station right beside the rest of his family at their return, cradling your now four year old daughter in your arms and welcoming him home with a big kiss and happy tears running down your face.

The issues he had previously had with his temper thanks to his father were now even worse, four years of only seeing death and being stuck down in the tunnels having taken a big toll on his mind.

But still, no matter how much he worried that you would leave him, you never did. You just held him when he needed you and assured him that you would always stay by his side.

After the war, he carried more anger and pain than a thousand armies could ever bear. He had been betrayed, deceived and hurt.

At only thirty-one years old, he had already crossed hell and the only time anyone ever saw peace in his eyes after the horrors he had borne witness to, was when he looked at you.

You may not have been out there with him and saved him in physical form from the bullets or hand grenades but still, you were the reason he was still alive.

At the end of the day, you were his reason for everything.

#Arthur Shelby #arthur shelby imagine #arthur shelby fanfic #arthur shelby x reader #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinders headcannon #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #john shelby #finn shelby #ada shelby #ada thorne #freddie thorne #polly gray

[sariasprincy-writes]

Hollow Point 36

One // Two // Three // Four // Five // Six // Seven // Eight // Nine // Ten // Eleven // Twelve // Thirteen // Fourteen // Fifteen // Sixteen // Seventeen // Eighteen // Nineteen // Twenty // Twenty-One // Twenty-Two // Twenty-Three // Twenty-Four // Twenty-Five // Twenty-Six // Twenty-Seven // Twenty-Eight // Twenty-Nine // Thirty // Thirty-One // Thirty-Two // Thirty-Three // Thirty-Four // Thirty-Five // Thirty-Six (here) 

Chapter Thirty-Six At the End of All Things

The first time Sakura awoke, everything was hazy. Like she was in a thick fog, her head filled with clouds. There were voices just beyond and a beeping nearby that seemed to reverberate through her skull. Bright lights shined in her eyes, but she couldn’t find the strength to shield her vision from it. Then she faded out again.

The next time Sakura opened her eyes, her surroundings were much clearer. She was still groggy, her dreams and reality dancing on the same line until she didn’t know what was real and what was her imagination. It took her a few minutes to get her bearings, but when she finally blinked into focus, she instantly recognized the hospital room.

Like a knee-jerk reaction, adrenaline filled Sakura’s veins as she recalled brief flashes of the port. But one glance down at her hands and she saw they were free of handcuffs. She hadn’t been caught by the CIA.

What did catch her notice was she was no longer wearing a Kevlar vest. Instead, she had been changed into a standard hospital gown. There was a sheet tucked around her middle to keep her legs warm and an IV inserted into her arm. It was connected to a bag with a clear liquid inside, likely just fluids. And perhaps pain killers, she realized after a sharp ache lanced through her shoulder when she tried to move her arm.

Pulling back the collar of her gown, Sakura found the left side of her upper body was wrapped in bandages. Post-surgery. At least someone had removed the bullet. Though, she would need to get out of the hospital soon before the police were called and she was questioned. If they hadn’t been called already.

That’s when Sakura realized she was alone. Where was Kakashi?

Through the clear, sliding doors, she could see the nurses’ station down the hall. There were two nurses there now, but they were busy with paperwork. She watched them until the television on the wall behind the desk caught her attention. It was playing the morning news.

From her distance, she couldn’t read the captions, but the channel was showing a helicopter view of the warehouse in Newark. It was still dark, just before dawn, the shipping yard lit up by a handful of overhead spotlights as red and blue police lights flashed. The video was at least a few hours old. Just outside the hospital window, the sun was already peeking above the horizon.

In that moment, Sakura remembered Itachi. Her heartrate and blood pressure spiked as she recalled the blood that had been gathering around him while she had been forced to watch on, unable to help. She worried what had become of him, where he was now.

Pushing herself up in bed, Sakura searched the room for her personal items, specifically her phone. She could call Kakashi or Shikamaru. It would be the fastest way to learn if there had been any casualties in the CIA’s raid.

However, before Sakura could move to get out of bed, the door to her room slid open. Automatically she glanced towards the sound, only to freeze as she recognized the person in the doorway.

Tsunade.

Her adopted mother was exactly how Sakura remembered her. She had long, blonde hair she had pulled back away from her face with the exception of a few strands that had escaped to frame her intelligent, hazel eyes. Tsunade was approaching sixty now, but her youthful face didn’t look a day over fifty. She exuded authority and professionalism in her white doctor’s coat, and in that instant, Sakura suddenly knew exactly where she was. Tsunade’s hospital.

Her adopted mother didn’t immediately speak as she stepped into the room flanked by two younger doctors, likely interns, but her expression was stern and clear: Sakura was to say nothing.

“I see you are finally awake,” Tsunade said, her voice calm and professional. As if they were complete strangers. “Are you in any pain, Ms….?”

“Johnson,” Sakura replied after a small hesitation. “Sarah Johnson.” The most vague American name she could think of in that moment.

Tsunade glanced at one of her interns, ensuring the young male doctor wrote the name down in her file before she returned her attention to Sakura. “How’s your pain now?”

“Manageable,” Sakura replied on autopilot. She was still stunned to see her adopted mother before her so suddenly after these last few years of radio silence. Sakura couldn’t tear her eyes away.

As if Tsunade was simply her surgeon, she stepped forward and began going through a normal examination of Sakura’s injury, post-surgery. “You had some nasty shrapnel to your shoulder, but I was able to successfully remove all of it. The man who brought you in said you were hit by debris from a car accident across the street. Unfortunate place and time.”

Sakura wondered what the actual chances of that happening were. It was probably the first thing Kakashi had thought of when the ER nurses had asked what happened. Sakura knew Tsunade knew it was a lie too. Her adopted mother was smart enough to know a fragmented bullet when she saw one, but she was lying to keep Sakura’s cover. Both their covers. It was a lie to keep the police at bay.

“Do you know where he is now?” Sakura asked.

“I believe getting coffee. He should return shortly,” Tsunade answered, examining the line in her IV for kinks. “The damage to your shoulder was fortunately minimal, but it will take several weeks to heal and some months of physical therapy to regain full use.”

Tsunade turned away from her then, continuing her examination as she spoke to the interns, asking them questions and teaching them as she went along. All the while, Sakura kept her gaze on her, as if afraid if she even so much as blinked too long, Tsunade would vanish right before her eyes.

After a few minutes that seemed to stretch on for hours, the interns finally left. The room lapsed into silence as Tsunade scribbled notes down into her chart.

Eventually, Tsunade closed Sakura’s chart. She capped her pen and slipped it into the front pocket of her coat before she finally met Sakura’s gaze. “I’ve kept your gunshot wound quiet, but someone will recognize the injury soon. You need to leave before the police are called.”

Sakura barely heard her. “Where have you been? I haven’t heard from you in over three years.”

“You had your mission,” Tsunade replied, her hazel eyes unaffected. “The rest was for you to finish.”

“And you didn’t think I might need support to do that?” Sakura asked, her confusion evident. “I’ve been calling you. For months now. Why didn’t you answer?”

“I taught you everything. I trained you to the best of my abilities. There was nothing more I could have done.”

Sakura let out a laugh that was more incredulous and exasperated than humorous. “You could have been there.”

“You were always meant to complete your mission alone.”

“Yes, but-”

“Enough, Sakura,” Tsunade interrupted. “We’re finished here.”

Her cold tone startled Sakura. She gave pause as Tsunade simply stared at her as if Sakura was nothing more than a boring piece of art. Slowly, one-by-one, the pieces began clicking into place. Cold dread filled Sakura as it dawned on her that she had put herself, Kakashi, Ino, Itachi in danger for a woman who saw her as nothing but a means to an end.

“You told Hashirama that you wanted a daughter, but he didn’t give me to you because you couldn’t have children,” Sakura said, her voice accusatory but calm compared to the raging storm building within her. “You wanted someone to train. Someone to take care of Hashirama because you couldn’t do it yourself. Not without getting caught.”

Tsunade’s face might as well have been carved from stone. “You did as directed. You completed your orders. You are released.”

Those words were like a slap across the face, but Sakura wasn’t given the chance to reply when the door to the room slid open again. It was Kakashi. He looked relieved to see her alert and conscious before he sensed the tension emanating from her. Concern briefly flickered behind his eyes before his gaze shifted to Tsunade.

She barely acknowledged him. Merely stepped towards the bed to mute the alarms on Sakura’s monitor before she slipped the IV out of her arm. “Don’t allow the nurses to see you when you leave,” Tsunade told her.

Then she was gone. Out the door and out of Sakura’s life. Perhaps forever.

Sakura could only sit there, her mouth slack and her eyes unfocused as she tried to process what had just happened. How everything she had believed her entire life could have shredded right before her eyes. It felt surreal, like a dream she couldn’t escape from.

White, hot anger flooded her heart and filled her veins like lightning. Betrayal stung like acid in her chest. She wanted to punch something, shoot something. Her fingers itched to wrap around the grip of a gun. She wanted to burn New York City to the ground.

Then, like a bubble, all that rage popped until she was left with nothing but a sinking sadness that buried deeper and deeper into her soul. It wrapped around her like a blanket, tumbling so deep she didn’t know if the feeling would ever leave her.

All those memories of her childhood burned bright in her mind’s eye. The smile on Tsunade’s face when she had brought Sakura home for the first time, her words of encouragement when Sakura failed and the pride in Tsunade’s eyes when she had succeeded. Grief sunk into Sakura’s chest like a heavy stone as she realized it had all been a lie. Tsunade had groomed Sakura to love and adore her until Sakura would do anything for the woman who had rescued her.

Sakura was certain she would have sat there in that hospital room, stuck in that single moment for the rest of her life, had the faint echo of footsteps not broken through her thoughts. She blinked back to herself as Kakashi stopped beside her bed. He looked like he wanted to reach out, but thought better of it.

“You okay?” he asked.

Sakura opened her mouth but not even a breath escaped. She didn’t know if he meant physically or mentally, but it didn’t matter. They needed to leave.

“We should get out of here,” Sakura said instead, suddenly itching to be out from this cramped, suffocating room.

A ghost of a frown crossed his mouth, but then it was gone as he slipped the backpack off his shoulder she hadn’t realized he had been carrying until now. Inside were a change of her clothes. He steadied her as she slipped into her jeans and shirt, the latter task he had to help her with after she realized she couldn’t lift her arm more than a few inches without a great deal of pain. He hung her jacket over her shoulders, leaving her sleeves empty before he collected the rest of her things.

Then together, they slipped out of the hospital unnoticed.

xx

The pair drove in silence for some time. The hospital was over twenty miles out of New York City. Sakura didn’t ask why Kakashi had taken her specifically to Tsunade. Had Sakura gone anywhere else the police would have been called, she would have been questioned and it would have led to a series of headaches that were best avoided from the beginning.

In the quiet, her mind rolled like heavy, thunder clouds. She replayed her conversation over with Tsunade, that piping hot rage sitting in her stomach like boiling water. Only to give way as her last moments with Itachi filled her memory. The hurt and betrayal and heartbreak in his eyes. She wondered if he had felt like she did now. Learning he had been used, he had been played.

Her stomach twisted sharply. The question of his fate hung heavy on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t find the courage to ask, afraid of the answer. Instead, she asked another burning question.

“What happened? After I was shot.”

Kakashi didn’t glance at her as he took the juncture to the next highway. “The CIA successfully took down Akatsuki. Everyone not killed was rounded up and arrested. Your plan to take out the major members of Akatsuki was a significant part in allowing the CIA to success. None of them showed with their men. Tobirama, Tenten and whoever else you called got them all. Everyone is dead but Kisame. He escaped to Egypt.”

Sakura hummed at that. “Call Temari. I want eyes on him.”

“You think he’ll retaliate against you for trying to kill him?”

“Not on American soil, but yes.”

Kakashi hummed his agreement. Then after a brief silence, he asked, “What about here? The Underground is in chaos. Now would be the perfect time to claim it.”

She fell quiet as she considered that. With Akatsuki in shambles and Hashirama dead, the Underground had a lot of availability now. It would be the perfect opportunity for her to take over the Eastern Coast. Which she was going to do. Just not in the way Kakashi was expecting.

“Tell Tobirama to take control of Hashirama’s assets. Tenten can have whatever territory is left over.”

Kakashi shot her a look of surprise. “Why would you do that?” When she replied with a meaningful glance, it dawned on him. “Because then they both owe you favors. You can control the Eastern Coast without having to manage it yourself.”

Sakura hummed her agreement.

“Then what will you do?” he asked.

Sakura thought about her next statement carefully. She thought about Tsunade’s parting words, feeling that painful betrayal again. “I want you to spread the word that Tsunade is dead.”

Kakashi glanced at her sharply until the tires bumped over the lane dividers on the highway. He jerked the wheel to straighten their course. “What? After all this, you’re giving everything up?”

She shook her head. “No, just her,” she said. Her voice was soft but she wasn’t able to completely keep the bitterness out of her voice. “From now on, I will be known as Sakura. I won’t give Tsunade the credit any longer.”

He peered in her direction again but said nothing as they continued their drive. The pain in Sakura’s shoulder was beginning to worsen as the drugs faded, but it paled in comparison to the ache in her chest, until she could no longer stand not knowing.

“Where’s Itachi?” she asked quietly.

A heavy silence passed before Kakashi answered, “He was taken to a hospital under the CIA’s protection. I spoke to my contacts there. He’s alive,” he said, causing hope to bloom in her chest. It died on his next words. “But he’s in a coma. He took a bullet to the stomach. They don’t know how well he’ll recover yet or if he’ll even…”

“Or if he’ll even wake up,” Sakura finished, feeling that hole in her heart slowly rip open little-by-little.

Kakashi peered at her, but she didn’t dare look at him. She couldn’t stand his pity at the moment. “I’m sorry, Sakura.”

“Don’t be,” she murmured. “This is my fault. I did this.”

They didn’t speak the rest of the way to Sakura’s apartment. Simply sat in silence as Kakashi steered them across the bridge and back into New York. Before them, the impressive skyline towered on the horizon, but Sakura didn’t see. She was numb to the world around her. Exhausted, both physically and mentally.

It was only once her door opened that Sakura realized they were parked in her underground garage. Kakashi helped her out of her seat before he adjusted her jacket around her shoulders to hide the bulky bandages, lest anyone should pass them.

Blindly, Sakura allowed Kakashi to lead her through the building until they reached her apartment. Kakashi unlocked the door and closed it behind them as Sakura kicked off her shoes. She said nothing as she made a beeline for her bed, letting her jacket drop somewhere on the floor before she slipped under the covers.

Kakashi was at her side a minute later with a spare bottle of prescription pain meds she kept in her medicine cabinet. She popped two in her mouth and greedily sucked down the bottle of water he handed her before she curled up on her uninjured side, her back to him. He simply pulled the covers around her.

“Can I get you anything else?” Kakashi murmured.

Sakura thought of Itachi, but the image of him lying in some government hospital unconscious and hooked up to life support stole her voice. Swallowing, she shook her head. “No.”

She vaguely heard him set something on her nightstand. A moment later, she realized it was her cell phone. “Call me if you need me.”

She said nothing in reply. Merely stared at the wall on the other side of her bed as she listened to Kakashi’s footsteps cross the room before the deadbolt slid back into place.

Sakura didn’t know how long she laid there. The meds took the worst of the bite out of her injury and exhaustion weighed on her like a physical weight, but her mind refused to rest. Her thoughts kept replaying the events at the warehouse. She wondered how she could have changed things, what she could have done differently, but the look on Itachi’s face wouldn’t leave her. It was burned into her mind.

What had she done?

Curling further into herself, Sakura opened her mouth to let out a heavy sigh. What escaped instead was a shuddering breath. And before she could stop it, a wave of emotion washed through her, picking her up and sweeping her out the sea before the currents pulled her under. Her anguish spilled out of her until it clogged her throat and made it near impossible to breathe, filling every corner of her empty apartment.

Or so she thought.

For from the living room, Kakashi said silently on the couch. He listened to each sob that echoed from the bedroom, until the sun was high and exhaustion finally overcame them both. It would be nearly sunrise before they would wake again.

xx

Three weeks later…

Sakura blew the steam off her coffee mug. She waited until it was cool enough not to burn her tongue before she finally took a sip and deemed the flavor to her liking.

Inside the coffeehouse, businessmen and women were hurrying in and out. The little shop was tucked between a large bank and a high rise of offices, making it a popular stop for those on their way into a meeting. A woman stopped beside Sakura and dumped in an unhealthy amount of cream and sugar before she quickly left, apparently running late for something.

With her shoulder still recovering, Sakura had to do most things one-handed. She set her to-go cup down on the counter before she snapped the lid over the top. Before leaving, she checked her phone.

There was a new message from Tenten. She was still on time to getting her shipments dropped off. Tobirama would be back in town tonight to update Sakura on the other shipments leaving Cairo. His plane was to land a few hours after sundown.

Satisfied, Sakura pocketed her phone again before she grabbed her coffee and made for the exit. A man in a nice business suit held the door for her, smiling something a little too friendly as he looked her purposely. Sakura was hardly fazed. She merely returned the smile before she slipped by without a word.

On the sidewalk, she paused to look for Kakashi’s car as she took a sip of her coffee. She didn’t know where Kakashi had gone in the morning rush, but she waited patiently. Ever since he had picked her up from the hospital, he had hardly left her side. He would be there soon.

Lowering her coffee cup, Sakura gazed about the downtown streets lazily. After a few minutes with no sight of Kakashi, she made to shuffle her coffee into her still-healing arm to pull out her phone when something caught her eye.

No, not something. Someone.

It was Shisui. He was standing across the busy street, leaning against the side of a sleek, black Lexus. She recognized it as Itachi’s. But it wasn’t the car that caught her notice. It was Shisui himself. He looked terrible. Absolutely haggard with dark circles under his eyes and his skin a little too pale, even for a New Yorker. He looked like he hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten in weeks.

And like a candle blowing out in the wind, the warmth left Sakura’s body. She knew what had happened.

They had pulled the plug on Itachi.

She couldn’t explain how she knew it from that single look from Shisui, but she was absolutely certain. Itachi was gone.

As if someone had pressed pause on the television, everything stilled. The people around them, the cars on the city streets. The entire world stopped and held its breath.

Then Shisui turned away and slipped into Itachi’s Lexus. Without a single word, he simply drove away, leaving Sakura alone on the busy sidewalk, the coffee in her cup tasting like mud and ash. The grey city seemed to become even dimmer, like all color had drained out of the world.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Sakura pushed herself to focus on her work, getting shipments ordered, organized and delivered. Her day was over before she realized it and she was forced to face her new reality.

She sent Kakashi away. He had been confused but he didn’t deny her request, and for the first time since she had been shot, Sakura was alone.

She sat in the kitchen chair she had pulled up to the window and sipped on tequila as she tried her best not to think about the shirt in the back of her closet – the one that smelled like Itachi – until suddenly, she realized she was drunk. Apparently, chain-drinking did that.

The urge to give in, to wrap herself up in the last bit of clothing that reminded her of his gentle kisses and tender touch, nearly overwhelmed her, and likely would have if her phone hadn’t abruptly pinged.

It was from Tobirama. He had landed.

Suddenly, Sakura had a far worse idea.

Less than an hour later, a taxi dropped Sakura off in Queens in front of a large house with tall, iron gates. The guard had let her in on-sight, allowing the driver to pull up the well-lit, circular drive to stop before the great mansion.

As Sakura stepped out of the cab, she admired the home. Tobirama had made a few modifications, including more lights that accentuated the stone work. It looked much classier than when Hashirama had lived there.

At the door, a butler greeted her and accepted her jacket. He made himself scarce when Tobirama appeared at the banister and descended the stairs. His hair was still damp from a shower, and he had changed into a grey sweater and a nice pair of cotton, white pants after his flight. Something comfortable but classy lest someone dropped in late. Someone like her.

“Sakura,” Tobirama greeted. His tone was welcoming but obviously curious. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight. Is everything alright?”

She had tried to fill the gaping hole in her chest with tequila, but she smiled nonetheless, hoping she appeared more sober than she felt. “Yes. I hope I’m not intruding.”

His confusion lingered, but he gestured for her to follow him anyway. He led her to the very den she had sat with Hashirama before. Only now it felt different. Less intimidating and more focused. Like an actual office should be.

Inside, a maid was dusting a tall painting of a beautiful forest with horses grazing in the middle. As soon as the worker saw them enter, she quickly stepped off her stool and excused herself, taking the folding steps with her.

Sakura didn’t pay her much mind. Instead she gazed at the painting as she briefly wondered what its significance was. It certainly hadn’t been there while Hashirama lived there, but the thought was fleeting. She turned away when she heard Tobirama pull out two crystal glasses before he poured a couple of fingers in each.

Only after they made themselves comfortable on the lush, leather couch across the room did he finally ask, “Are you really so keen to know how my trip to Egypt went?”

Frankly, Sakura couldn’t care less about Cairo at the moment, but for pretenses, she inclined her head.

They sipped their whiskey as Tobirama updated her. He informed her of Temari’s success in seamlessly taking over Akatsuki’s old territory and contacts, and Tobirama’s latest attempt to track down Madara’s whereabouts. Of course, it had led to another dead end like it had for the last several weeks.

“I know the bastard was there,” Tobirama told her, a small frown on his lips. “But he slipped out before I could track him down.”

“Do you suspect where he went?” she asked.

“Hong Kong.”

Sakura hummed in reply as she sipped more of her drink. The whiskey settled warmly in her stomach, but it did nothing to ease the cold in her chest.

“Once I get my shipments squared away here, I can go there and follow his trail-”

“No,” she shook her head, much to Tobirama’s surprise. “Let him stay there.”

His brows furrowed. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Madara has contacts there that neither of us have. If we go after him, he’ll have us killed on-sight,” she told him, briefly studying the amber liquid in her glass. “There’s one thing I’m certain of and it’s that Madara wants both of us dead; for what we did to Akatsuki and for what we did to Izuna. Let him come to us when he finally decides he can’t live in a world with us in it. For now, he can rot in his hole.”

She finished her statement by swallowing the rest of her drink in one large gulp. Then she stood to place the glass on the desk, out of the way.

“And in the meantime, what do we do?” Tobirama asked.

Sakura turned back around to face him upon his question. She didn’t reply as she eyed him, taking in his relaxed form as he lounged on the leather sofa. The hand grasping his whiskey rested on the arm of the couch while the other rested beside his thigh.

In this setting, he was more handsome than she could ever remember him being. Money looked good on him. And so did she, she decided.

“I’m sure we can think of something,” Sakura replied. Her hand skimmed up the front of her blouse until she found the top button. Then she popped it open.

Tobirama’s glass stilled halfway to his mouth as she approached him. Automatically his gaze was drawn to her cleavage as it was slowly exposed to his viewing. He swallowed thickly before he made a point of meeting her gaze.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice carefully controlled.

Sakura shot him a look as if he had asked the dumbest question in the world before she dropped her shirt to the floor and slipped into his lap. Even with only her lacy, wine-colored bra keeping her decent, his eyes never left hers. He stubbornly kept his hands by his sides.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Sakura countered smoothly.

Something akin to a scowl crossed his face. “I thought we had agreed this was a bad idea.”

Her hands settled on the firm muscles of his chest as her gaze briefly flickered down to his mouth before meeting his gaze once more. When she spoke, her voice had turned soft to something almost vulnerable. “Don’t you ever wish we could go back to the way we started? Before everything got so complicated.”

An unusually serious expression crossed Tobirama’s face. His gaze searched hers, as if wondering where they would be now if things between them hadn’t ended so abruptly. She didn’t know what he saw in her eyes – if he saw anything at all – but then he was downing the rest of his whiskey. He set the glass aside before he twisted a hand into her hair and forced her mouth to meet his.

There was nothing gentle about the way Tobirama held her. He secured an arm around her waist before he picked her up and laid her against the soft leather of the couch, careful of her still-healing shoulder. As soon as she was settled, he was on her again, his knee pressing into the space between her legs as he bit a path down her throat. A sharp gasp escaped her when he found a sensitive spot, but the noise was quickly muffled as he crushed his mouth against hers again.

His kiss felt like drowning. Like she was being pulled beneath the current, her head inches or perhaps miles below the surface. She didn’t know if it eased or just numbed the pain in her chest, but she had the fleeting thought that if it could distract her from her grief if only for a few minutes, then she would take everything she could.

Just as the world had taken everything from her.

tbc…

#hollow point #chapter thirty six #itasaku #tobisaku #crime au #arms dealer au #modern au #im sorry ok #story isn't over yet tho #just an epilogue left

[alabastertouch]

dreaming of you | I

Character/s: Kang Younghyun/Young K x OC

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warning/s: Mentions of death

Summary: Younghyun had always found his supernatural gift a blessing. his visions are usually euphoric.

What is he to do when he sees someone’s life dissipating right in front of his eyes?

Author’s note: This is also posted on ao3!! Updates will be slow so please be patient!

Kang Younghyun is a dreamer.

Literally, that is. Every night when he sleeps, he has a smile on his face knowing that he is about to watch a happy ending take place, and all only for him to witness.

The first of these series of dreams was with his father, who was in a comatose during that time after falling down from three flights of stairs. Younghyun was only nine, and he doesn’t know what those dreams meant. What he can recall was that his father went downstairs to watch the football game on the living room.

The next day, his mother received a phone call that his father had woken up after a month of sleep.

Once is a chance, twice is a coincidence, and third time is a pattern.

So, when Younghyun continues dreaming of returning to his hometown in Ilsan to visit his relatives with a feast as a surprise and his older friend Sungjin getting married in the middle of winter, he is not surprised anymore, for he knows it was all about to happen.

He even predicted that Sungjin was going to propose to Nayeon.

“You’ve bought the ring already, hyung?”

Sungjin did not ponder anymore, believing that Younghyun just has a knack of knowing things earlier from the others.

Younghyun had used his power to tease his friends. There were rare moments that he had dreamt of them, and if he ever did, he just kept it to his advantage. He knew that Wonpil will win the talent show, beating even the best performers of the university, and that ex-lovers Jinyoung and Jisoo will get back together after said talent show. He had seen it all, and even if a heads-up would have been nice, he still left fate in its own hands.

Younghyun was nineteen when his parents had bought a house in Seoul. It was solely for the sake of him going to college, and even if he had tried to stop his parents by telling them he could have stayed in the school lodging, they did not let him. Younghyun is their only child, and letting him go would be too difficult for them to handle.

And that was the time when he was introduced to Kim Jiae.

Younghyun remembers that day like it was yesterday. Jiae was shy, but he also watches how independent she was from an early age. Although two years younger than him, she had always been the leader between the two of them, and because their parents always hanged out together, they stuck together like two peas in a pod.

That was, of course, until Jackson heard (key: eavesdropped) that Jiae likes Younghyun.

“Hey, stop that!” Younghyun remembered eighteen-year-old Jiae trying to deny, yet her crimson cheeks gave it all out.

“You told Nayeon that you like Younghyun hyung!” Jackson was a prankster, and this one prank of his had taken things too far.

Jiae did not really make it a secret that she liked Younghyun. She would always go out of his way to buy him carped bread, and she would always him to eat street food with her. Younghyun found her enthusiasm a breath of fresh air, but he could never see her as anything more.

He told her exactly that, so she distanced from him.

It had been five years since then, and while it is inevitable for them to find each other judging that they are neighbors, they still choose to ignore each other’s existence. One always intentionally lag behind just so they won’t have to ride the subway together, and if Jiae found Younghyun walking on his way home, she would walk slowly on purpose, avoiding him like he is bearing some type of a disease.

Younghyun thought he was giving her time to recover from the rejection, but with her taking too much, their friendship had already been greatly affected.

“You might want to go to Mr. Jin right now, Mark,” Younghyun warns his friend as soon as he arrives in the classroom. “He has your grades, and he’s not looking very amused right now.”

“Oh, shit,” the usually composed Mark hurries on his way out, and once he is back, he will probably beat the crap out of Younghyun. Those grades will determine whether Mark will be graduating with his friends or not, and with Younghyun’s sweet dream last night, he is sure that everyone will be in a festive mood.

“He passed, right?” Jaebeom is one of the few believers of Younghyun’s premonitions. The guy’s exterior might seem rough on the edges, but he is a softie who listens to his friends’ every word.

“Oh, yes,” Younghyun smiles widely. “We’ll be drinking tonight, alright.”

“Finally,” Jaebeom claps victoriously. “Should we call the others tonight, too?”

“Why not? They’re all in vacation mode already, anyway,” he laughs as he remembers how Dowoon had hit his drumstick all over the hallway, almost breaking some glasses, and how Wonpil innocently threw all of his French readings on the trash bin, clearing his locker out with a bright smile.

“Are Jae hyung and Sungjin coming?” Jaebeom questions. “Or are they too busy living their lives as adults?”

“Oh, you know they miss uni,” Younghyun sighs longingly. “And it seems like Sungjin hyung can’t miss uni at all. His wife is still a student after all.”

“They look so happy, don’t they?” Jaebeom flashes a gummy smile, and Younghyun’s response to it is interrupted by Mark’s howls as soon as he enters the lecture hall.

“I’m graduating, y’all!” Everyone applauds him, because after all, used-to-be delinquent Mark Tuan is graduating. It shows that it will never be too late to change just as long as you pour your heart out to it.

“We’re all happy,” Younghyun smiles. “I hope it will always stay that way.”

“Oh, come on, Jiae, it would be fun!” Jimin convinces the homebody Jiae inside the library. “Mark is graduating, finally, and you’ll just stay in your room?”

“I’m happy for Mark,” Jiae groans as she shuts the book close. “But you know Younghyun would be there, right?”

“Jiae, that was centuries ago!” Jimin complains.

“It was only five years ago,” Jiae clarifies.

“My point is, that was a long time ago,” Jimin scoffs. “You should have gotten over that by now, and I bet he had forgotten about it already! It’s time for you two to start anew.”

“Well,” Jiae swallows bitterly, knowing that Jimin is right. It’s time that she looks past the teenage crush she had harbored on her good-looking neighbor-slash-college senior.

It was natural for them to go to the same university of course, as it was the nearest to both of their houses. Yet, it only made it difficult for Jiae to move on from Younghyun fully.

“Fine,” Jiae grumbles as she takes her eyeglasses off.

“Great!” Jimin exclaims in delight. “How are we going to go there, by the way?”

“Well,” Jiae ponders. “I guess I can borrow Dad’s car.”

“Sweet,” Jimin claps in excitement. “We’re getting our own ride!”

Younghyun is awaken by sirens from outside his home. In panic, he jumps off the bed, peeking outside the window to see Jiae’s parents talking to a police officer. Her mother runs back inside the house, and Younghyun could see that Mr. Kim is trying his best to stand firm.

He turns to the digital clock on his bedside table. 10:52 PM.

“Had I missed Mark’s party?” He shuffles back to bed in confusion, checking his phone to see the barrage of messages and missed calls.

Jae | 9:31 PM Dude, where are you?

Wonpil | 9:45 PM Hyung, are you home, right now? Pick up the phone

Mark | 10:01 PM Dude, stay wherever you are. Don’t go anywhere.

Jaebeom | 10:27 PM We’re coming over to your home right now

He does not get the context of every message. It appears that each of them are in a strange sense of urgency to which he needs answers to.

The last message he had received was from Jimin, but it was still sending him mixed signals.

Jimin | 10:38 PM I shouldn’t have let her drove alone. This is all my fault.

“Younghyun!” Jae is the first to barge in his bedroom door and finds his younger friend’s shell-shocked expression.

“What is going on?” His voice quivers, questioning everything that is going on.

“Have you been sleeping all along?” Mark exhales sharply.

“Yeah, I was,” Younghyun replies. “What’s up?”

“Jiae,” Nayeon looks down on the floor, tears brimming her eyes. Sungjin has to coax his wife into calming down, still unable to feed Younghyun’s confusion.

“What happened to Jiae?” Younghyun’s voice grows higher in anxiety. His mind is not at ease, because how can it be when everyone is crying as if Jiae is gone?

Wait…

“She suffered a fatal car crash,” Sungjin answers in Nayeon’s stead. “Ji is gone.”

Younghyun blinks, everything finally making sense to him. His eyes detect everyone’s faces. There is no hint of humor at all… only regret, sorrow, and pain. Younghyun feels his body collapse back to his bed, his consciousness slowly seeping away from.

“Hey, Younghyun, wake up! Don’t do this!” Jaebeom tries to pull his arm up to no avail. He is being eaten alive by guilt of not talking to Jiae for the past five years, and his strength had advancedly lost.

“Younghyun, wake up!” Jaebeom’s voice begins to fade into nothing, no matter how many times he repeats.

“Kang Younghyun, wake up!”

“Younghyun, get up!”

“Younghyun!”

“Kang Younghyun!”

His eyes open alertly, shooting up as soon as the voice succeeds in getting him up.

“Finally!” Younghyun’s eyes turn vigilantly to the one who woke him up, who is not Lim Jaebeom at all.

“Jae hyung?” Younghyun mumbles in astonishment. “What are you doing here?”

“Taking you to Mark’s party! What else?” Jae throws a leather jacket on him. “Hurry up, it’s getting late.”

“Wait,” Younghyun whispers to himself, grabbing the clock on the bedside table. 8:25 PM.

“What the actual—” Younghyun hops out of the bed, checking the vicinity outside his house.

No police cars or anything, just the silver sedan of Jiae’s father.

“Dude, you’re sweating,” Jae points out. “What’s going on?”

Younghyun ignores Jae’s calls as he clumsily hurries downstairs, hastily wearing a pair of flip-flops before trudging to the house across the street.

He heads to the door, pressing the bell impatiently and in apprehension.

It finally opens, revealing Jiae’s mother looking at Younghyun in worry.

“Oh, hello, son, are you okay?”

“Auntie, is Jiae here?” Younghyun breathes shortly.

“Yes, she’s actually just on her way to your friend’s party. Do you want to go there with her? She’ll be driving her father’s car.” Just after Mrs. Kim says that, Jiae walks to the entryway of their house.

“Mom?” Jiae looks at her mother, and then to the guest present. “Younghyun? Shouldn’t you already be at Mark’s party?”

Younghyun shakes his head as he feels an impending ache.

“Please,” he coughs as he holds onto his head.

“Younghyun? Younghyun, will you please calm down?” Jiae tries to calm him down before calling Jae from across the street.

“Don’t drive to the party,” Younghyun finally manages to say out loud, perplexing Jae and Jiae.

“What?” Jiae tilts her head in question. “Why not?”

“Don’t,” it was all Younghyun can say to her. She will not believe him if he told her, anyway.

“We can just bring Ji along,” Jae suggests cautiously, trying to ease his friend from whatever it is that is causing him to be like this. “Let’s just go together on the party, alright?”

“Sure,” Jiae shrugs as she fishes for the car keys in her bag and returns it to her mother.

“Would that be fine to you, Younghyun?” Jae slowly inquires, knowing the odd position he and Jiae are having for the past few years.

“Yes,” Younghyun calms down at last. “That would be for the best.”

#kreativenetwork #day6 scenario #day6 angst #day6 fic #day6 imagines #youngk fic #youngk scenario #youngk angst #day6 youngk #day6 au #day6 fanfic

[dvstbunny]

hey my friends!! i am finally bringing in my danzig fc which i have meant to do for literal month but i always struggle with him the most muse-wise and i’ve revamped this particular muse with his fc multiple times... so we’ll see how well it goes this time and fingers crossing i can keep him around! this muse of mine may be a little less active at the moment while i try to find my footing with him, but i’ll be trying my very best! four is usually the maximum of muses i can keep up with because i prefer being as active as possible on my muses rather than sporadic and i had to debate long and hard about picking up another, so we’ll test the waters and see how it goes and if it doesn’t work out... it doesn’t work out! anyway he’s the most chaotic energy second to cy so... enjoy

TRIGGER WARNINGS: eating disorders, violence, cults, drugs, alcoholism, neglect, abuse

{ Dustin ‘Dusty’ Graves } is { 28 } originally from { Suicide Creek, Canada }. They spend their time as a { model, hairdresser, and drummer of Avant-Garde Society }. They live in the { The Chalet } and have been known to be { callous and flamboyant } but can also be { moxie and cosmopolitan }. They strongly resemble { Dustin Bates } and go by { he/him } pronouns.

name: dustin solara graves

nicknames: dusty, dustbin, dustbunny

birthday: may 25, 1989 (age 28)

hometown: suicide creek, canada (later los angeles, ca)

occupation: model, hairdresser, drummer of avant-garde society

orientation: panromantic pansexual

relationship status: single

children: none

education: bachelor’s in scientific research, cosmetology license

VARIOUS INFORMATION AND FACTS:

call him bash if you’re not close to him and he’ll probably kick you in the face

though his mother is originally from canada, he was born in paris, france, where she had moved a few years prior to his birth to follow the love of her life, a french businessman. the businessman wanted nothing to do with the baby and she was forced to return to canada and unable to afford him with her occupation, she abandoned him at an orphanage and subsequently, he grew up never knowing who either of his birth parents were, only his birth name

essentially raised in a monastery, one would think he would grow up to be rather religious. instead, he had too many questions and received answers that didn’t quite satisfy him and started to gravitate toward analyzing every piece of religion in the monastery that he could grasp and unfold it in a way he thought was most logical

throughout his childhood, dustin was extremely alienated by other kids in the monastery and the lack of attention and connection with the other children prompted him to begin growing more and more bitter with every passing year as he got older and began to vie for negative attention from the others and positive attention from the adults at the monastery

with a knack for exploring, he made a terrible mistake when he was around the age of eight: he wandered off the property and into the woods in the canadian winter. being he was still an adolescent with no cellphone and too deep in a place that he had no idea how to find his way out of, he found himself lost and unable to make his way back to the monastery and as the night hit and temperatures dropped, the cold and hunger began to set in, distressing the young boy

miraculously, a local hunter came across him a couple days later when an angry bear (likely woken from hibernation by starvation) tried to attack him. managing to get away with only a few scratches, the hunter took him back to his cabin to clean him up

to his misfortune, he wouldn’t be going back to the orphanage. this hunter in the middle of nowhere seemed to have darker intentions for him: as part of a strange- and likely satanic- cult, he wanted dustin to learn from his ways. those ways were not the kind any eight year old should ever be raised by, though, often violent and bloody with other people who were typically strangers and animals, acts of violence served as a marker for the older man’s idea of salvation or worship

living the rest of his youth in the middle of the woods like this, aside from going to school, he reluctantly took a part in what this father figure wanted from him. given he was so young when he was taken in, he never really thought to get out of the situation, simply letting it be for what it was. hating every minute of it, school became his only escape, opting to stay there as much as he could to work late on science projects that would win him hefty prizes and acknowledgements from his peers

his father figure was baffled by his love for education and instead of receiving pride for his excellent marks in school, dustin was physically and verbally abused with the accusation he was putting too much focus on it and not enough focus on the homefront. outside of his accomplishments, his father figure took little interest in what he did outside out of the house and often ignored him when he wasn’t expected to be doing something. frustrated by his father figure’s lack of care for him, he began acting out again, which only led to more violence between the two

eventually, the neglect and the abuse he received when he acted out took a toll on him, and he grew up to be a rather selfish person, and became incredibly guarded and mistrusting of letting other people in, struggling to make connections and holding people at arm’s length

he swore to himself that when he graduated at eighteen, he would never see him again and make a better life for himself. on the day of his graduation, he packed all his belongings up and quietly left the house, only to dump it elsewhere in the woods on the way to the high school and set fire to it with gasoline. after the ceremony was over, he asked his friend to help him get to los angeles on account of obtaining a full ride scholarship to attend as a student in the department of science at USC

almost immediately, he was signed onto an eight million dollar modeling contract with men’s vogue, and he couldn’t think of anything else he had ever dreamed of as much as that moment in time, free to stay in the country and as far away from his father figure as possible

ever a popular person, he quickly excelled and made his way through the business, getting to know all kinds of people in high places and experiencing the luxurious life for himself on his own- the good and the bad sides of it

though he had delved in plenty of partying in his high school years, and dabbled in social drug use at said parties, he never developed an addiction. when he was in hollywood, everything changed, starting with the development of his addiction to alcohol when he was nineteen, finding it as a way to cope and to tone down the harsh shades of his personality that blossomed as a result of his childhood

as always, the modeling business wasn’t as glamorous as it seemed, either. behind closed doors, he faced pressures to either lose weight or dehydrate himself in order to gain the illusion of the “ideal” body image of men- naturally wanting to keep the business happy and unable to deal with the anxiety every time he looked at the scale and felt as if he were still missing the mark, bulimia and anorexia reared its ugly head in dustin’s life

among the societal expectations of the modeling business and the partying, he faced other abuses that often remained hidden. someone was too rough here and there during a photoshoot- a manager, maybe- and he would leave covering a bruise, or the sketchier photographers of the business would drug him out of his mind to achieve the intended “look” and “aesthetic” of the shoot. in a way, he felt that at least on the bright side, it deterred him from ever considering doing drugs again, disgusted and mortified by the experiences he would endure, and at times still does

dustin chose to turn his life around when he was twenty, convinced by a mentor that he should check himself into rehab after news that cy’s sister was involved in a drunk driving accident that nearly killed her and cy’s brother, reluctantly- and grudgingly- giving in to accepting help from others, coming out the other end feeling more rejuvenated than he had in the past several, miserable years

life went on and he continued the same routine of frequent travel and business calls and so on, so forth over the next few years, purchasing a summer home in paris, and he graduated with his bachelor’s in scientific research a year early at twenty-one with high honors

unfortunately, the road to recovery couldn’t last forever, and he slipped back into the arms of his vices when he was twenty-two, drinking himself out cold one day when he was twenty-three and waking up in a hospital on the premise of a friend finding him and concerned by his extremely low pulse

luckily, the situation was enough for him to receive a wake-up call loud and clear and taking it upon himself this time to check into a rehab facility, searching for his own happiness and perhaps a scrap of self-love. at this time, he decided to take up cosmetology school on the side of the band he ended up in at twenty-four and managed to obtain his license

lacking confidence in himself to remain on steady ground after the first round, unable to find it in himself to make up for his lack of self-love, the sobriety only lasted until he was twenty-seven and he found himself crashing and burning back into old ways when he moved to queens in the big apple, entranced by the bustling life and atmosphere of it in a lonely way that drew him back to his demons

still has an apartment in los angeles and a summer home in paris, owns his own cosmetology studio in queens where he primarily deals with hair, but has other employees specialized in nail art. still a science nerd but isn’t really sure what he wants to do with that degree at the moment

despite his wayward upbringing, he remained to have a strong moral compass and actually grew to despise violence and lack violent tendencies

has a hobby of photography and painting, a soft side he doesn’t expose to many people to avoid being taken advantage of more than he already is, has never owned a pet in his life because he can barely care for himself, and can come off as an emotionless void with how terribly guarded he is, incredibly vain to the point he has to fix his hair when he walks by a mirror and has a rather sarcastic sense of humor

despite seeming like an asshole outright to try to keep people from getting close to him, anyone with patience or kind words can quickly gather that he is nothing short of a gentleman when it comes down to it, very hard-working and dedicated, and underneath a seemingly selfish personality is just someone who’s never experienced much affection and likes to pretend he’s allergic to it

probably carries a comb in his pocket, trims his own hair over his bathroom sink, wears nerd glasses, lives off of takeout but is an exceptionally decent cook, too many suits in his wardrobe and not enough normal clothes, passed out in the afternoon unless it’s work-related, and would stab someone in the back if he was given a reason to, terrible habit of smoking and cannot make coffee to save his life, lives life in the fast lane

still actively struggling with his alcoholism and eating disorders, starting to slowly come apart at the seams over the last year in the city out of struggling to make connections that really seem to matter

#queensrpooc #eating disorders tw #violence tw #abuse tw #neglect tw #alcoholism tw #drugs tw #cult tw #i think i've edited this all that i need to but i will double check over this #after i have made a quick phone call

[yourprayer]

pop culture chapter 8

“Adulthood in a town like Derry is even worse than childhood. The listless, empty ramblings of days dragging on in a town that felt like one-size-too-small-shoes sat heavier on the recently graduated than the younger children. Before you were eighteen and responsible for your own lunch money, you could spend your interminable afternoons exploring the surrounding environment, friends of friends abound. Escaping to the arcade and seeing the same films six times at the same theater was an acceptable amount of nothing to do at twelve years old. But when nineteen years hit Bill Denbrough and college acceptance letters didn’t, the sudden, overwhelming, nothingness of Nowhere, Maine became too heavy to bear.”

chapter 8 (wc: 4k)

chapter list here

read it on ao3

want on the taglist?

“Someone’s knockin at yer back door, Stanny.”

“Couldn’t kill you to answer it?”

“Not my house.”

“Well you’re not getting any of my pizza, then.” Stan griped as he marked his place and set down his novel before crossing the room.

“Wait, you ordered pizza?!” Richie extracted himself from his position on Stan’s bed, where he had been reading comics upside down.

“You’d know if you got the door.” Stan called over his shoulder as he descended the stairs. Another knock rang through the empty house.

“Coming dear!” Richie yelled with a ridiculous trill as he attempted to slide down the bannister.

“Don’t break yourself. I don’t want your blood on my carpet.” Stan yanked Richie’s sleeve, returning the wily boy to his feet.

“Buzzkill.” Richie muttered, crossing his arms as he followed Stan sullenly.

“Reason you’re still alive?” Stan quirked an eyebrow, walking backwards with a finger pointed at himself.

“Touche, douche.” Richie rhymed under his breath as they crossed the kitchen.

“Heard that.” Stan commented as he opened the door.

“Hey.”

Stanley and Richie’s eyes went comically wide as they took in the sight on Stan’s back doorstep. Before them stood a disheveled Mike and Eddie, both sweaty and breathing like they’d ran all the way there. Eddie was holding the collar of his shirt to split and bleeding skin of his chin, droplets of the blood escaping and dripping down his neck, leaving dried trails like lay lines. Mike was smiling almost apologetically, like he was sorry to have stopped by.

“Got a first aid kit?” Mike broke the silence, smile almost manic as he joked.

“What the fuck happened?!” Stan inquired, pulling Mike in the room and out of the way before Richie practically launched himself at Eddie, who he promptly shoved over to the sink so he could begin cleaning his wound.

“It’s a pretty, uh, funny story actually.” Mike said with a strange, nervous laugh. Stan studied him crossly between cupboards he opened in search of some bandages. “Mind if I have a glass of water?”

“Go ahead.” Stan replied warily, watching Mike grab a cup out of the cabinet to his left with trembling hands. Richie moved Eddie away from the sink as Mike came over, meeting Stan at the kitchen island and grabbing the box of band-aids he’d successfully scavenged. Mike drank three full glasses while Richie diligently attended to Eddie’s chin. Stan and Eddie caught each other’s gazes just once, and at Stan’s questioning eyebrow Eddie only shook his head. Stan waited a moment more before starting in on Mike again. “You gonna tell this funny story?”

“It’s a real doozy.” Mike braced his hands on the sink, back facing the others.

“I think I can handle it.”

Mike took a deep breath before turning.

“You want the long or the short of it?”

“Dealer’s choice.”

“I think I just controlled fire with my mind.”

Richie dropped the bandage he was opening.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah. That’s the short.”

“Does the long explain this?” Richie pointed at Eddie’s band-aid clad chin.

“If I tell you it involves Hockstetter and Belch, does that answer your question?”

“Shit. Yeah.” Richie adjusted his glasses reverently, eyes downcast as his mind easily grasped the general specifics.

“So you what, turned his flamethrower contraption off?” Stan crossed his arms and leaned against the pantry.

“More like turned it around.” Mike paused to drink more water. “It didn’t burn me.”

“It touched you?” Mike nodded. “And it didn’t burn.” Another nod. “And you’re sure it was real fire.” Richie continued incredulously.

“It was. A whole lot of it. And it couldn’t touch me.”

“Bullshit.” Richie said with awe.

“You literally turned invisible a couple days ago.” Stan glared at Richie.

“Yeah, but- that’s nuts!”

“More nuts than your thing?”

Richie qualmed. “No…”

“So shush. Let the man continue.”

“That’s pretty much all there is to it.” Mike shrugged. “I guess fire can’t burn me anymore.”

“Let’s test it.” Richie pulled a lighter out of his jean pocket. “Experimentation.”

Mike spoke at the same time as Stan, his acquiescence overlapping Stanley’s protests.

“It’s fine, Stan.” Mike repeated, stepping over to Richie with an outstretched arm.

“What if it was just a fluke?” Stan folded his hands in concern.

“It’s just a tiny little Bic, what can it do?” Mike said casually as Richie flicked on the flame.

“You sure?” Richie asked, lighter in one hand and Mike’s arm in the other.

“Go right ahead.”

Richie watched Mike’s face with pinched eyebrows, disbelief and uncertainty on his face. He titled the flame to touch skin, eyes going wide as Mike did not flinch.

“Nothing?” Richie pressed the flame into Mike’s skin, which was not burning or bubbling as all laws of physics deemed it should.

“It feels like hot wax, but not super hot wax.” Mike took another sip of his water with his free hand.

“Are you the wax in this equation?” Richie questioned as he moved the flame up and down the length of Mike’s forearm.

“I think so?”

“Fucking hell.” Richie sighed as he let go of the trigger, pocketing the lighter once more. “Of course you get a useful power.” He complained as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“The fuck do you mean?”

“I mean that’s what this whole thing is, right? We’re all getting superpowers or something! And I get this bullshit where some of my organs go see-through, and it hurts like a bitch, mind you, and you get to be fire-retardant! Stan can fuckin’, I don’t know, levitate things, which is helpful-”

Stan and Mike spoke over each other again.

“Stan can what?”

“You’ve been reading too many comic books.”

Stan looked guilty after he realized what Mike had said over his comment.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Last night. My book was floating.”

“That’s it?”

“I made it fly into the ceiling.”

“Did it stay there?”

“No, it fell.”

“Who cares if it stayed up there? Point is Stanley actually gets something that doesn’t suck-”

“Eddie, you’ve been weirdly quiet. Are you okay?” Stan interrupted Richie’s rant, desperately wanting to shift the subject away from himself. Eddie blanched at the sudden question, shuffling his weight awkwardly on his feet. He thought for a moment about saying something, but settled on a shake of his head. “What’s up?” Stan pressed.

“I’m with Richie.” Eddie said after a moment, voice unsure. Richie definitely didn’t dig his nails into his legs from where his hands were clenched in his pockets in response to the thoughts Eddie saying the phrase I’m with Richie conjured. “I got dealt a really shitty hand.”

Richie swallowed, wishing away the heat in his cheeks. “How so?”

“You know how so!” Eddie went from reserved and shaken to bitterness teetering on the edge of rage in a matter of seconds. “The only ‘power’ I got is being scared so shitless I can’t even fucking move every time something goes wrong!”

“Eds.” Richie pleaded softly, hoping to head off the explosion he knew was coming.

“You should have seen me today, Richie. I was fucking useless. Mike was about to get barbequed and I just fucking laid there!”

“Belch was holding you down Eddie, he had his boot in your back-” Mike protested.

“Wait, Belch had his boot in your back? That son of a-”

“The point is that I’m useless now! Who am I if I can’t protect my friends?!”

“Eds, you are not useless-”

“Richie’s right, Eddie-”

“You don’t get it, Stan-”

“Eddie, I don’t think you have a super power.” Mike said firmly, breaking through the chaos of everyone’s voices overlapping.

“Excuse me?” Eddie blinked at him.

“I don’t think you have a ‘super power’.” Mike air quoted, glancing at Richie. “I think you have a panic disorder.”

“Mike.” Richie warned quietly, almost subconsciously raising a hand as if to placate a wild animal. Stan stared at him shocked, genuine surprise and fear overtaking him as he worried over the results of the statement.

Eddie went white, his whole body eerily stilling. His eyes started out laser-focused on Mike’s face but began to dart around the room. He tried to form words, his brain working in overdrive as he scrambled over a response. To Richie it looked like he’d short-circuited.

“I- you- how dare-”

“Eddie, I’m not trying to offend you-”

“How dare you, Michael.” Eddie spat. “You have got to be fucking kidding me right now.”

“I’m not.” Mike stood his ground.

“If I wanted someone to stand here and list a bunch of fake illnesses I don’t have, I’d be at home!” Eddie nearly screamed. Stan clasped a hand over his mouth. Richie swallowed again before laughing nervously with the teasing, though-”

“Shut UP Richard. I’m not fucking around.” Eddie rounded on Mike again. “I can’t believe you, one of my best friends treating me like my fucking mother, trying to find some fucking disease you can blame me on-”

“I am not acting like your mother, Eddie.” Mike yelled back, surprising Stan and Richie with his intensity.

“You know what hurts the most about it?” Eddie pushed on, apparently unaffected by the bite back. “What really gets me about being told I’m sick all the time? She says my behavior is what makes me sick, the things I do or like or say. It’s not my temperature or my complexion or whether or not I throw up, it’s my fucking personality! To her, I’m the disease! And I thought you of all people would see me differently. But it’s clear now you don’t. I’m something you want to cure too.”

“Eddie-” Mike protested feebly, shocked beyond belief.

“I am sorry I was such a useless pile of shit today.” Eddie said through angry tears forming in his eyes. “I feel terrible about how I acted. But you don’t have to be so vicious about it. You don’t have to treat me like a germ.”

With that, Eddie was turning on a heel and leaving, storming out of Stan’s back door as the other’s scrambled after him, Richie yelling for him to come back.

“Let him go.” Mike said calmly, a hand on Richie’s shoulder as the three stood in the doorway. They watched Eddie storm out of the garden, the brand new and almost frighteningly large cactus plant near the door escaping their notice.

______________________________________________________________

“I’m the world’s worst boyfriend.”

“Oh come on, Ben.”

“No, I really am. I mean, absolute shit.”

“Th-there are p-p-plenty worse boyfr-friends than you out there.” Bill clapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder, smiling at the sight of Ben idly fretting.

“What kind of asshole waits until a week before an anniversary before they even start thinking about a gift?” Ben put his head in his hands, soda and fries forgotten on the bench next to him. He and Bill were on one of their regular excursions to the downtown district of Derry, where they would both get a coke and fries to be eaten as they walked around and windowshopped for all the things they couldn’t afford.

“S-some people forget the d-day entirely.” Bill pointed out, popping a french fry into his mouth. “I did.”

Ben looked up at him incredulously. “You forgot yours and Bev’s anniversary?”

“She b-broke up with me for a reason.” He joked, taking a drink of his soda. Ben laughed at his casual admission.

“No offense, but I’m glad the bars not so high.” Ben said through giggles.

Bill snorted. “Wh-what bar?” The two broke into fits of laughter, trying their best to contain themselves in public.

“Well, shit.” Ben leaned back, picking up his styrofoam cup of cola and taking a sip. “Guess I’ve only gotta do something mildly impressive.”

“What k-kind of gift are you th-thinking?” Bill tucked a leg under the other as he ate more of his fries.

“It’s cliche as shit, but I was thinking jewelry.” Ben scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, it is only our six-month, but still…” Ben trailed off, Bill watching him intently as he continued to eat. “I’m really fucking serious about her. I wanna get something that says I am.”

“Jewelry is good, then.” Bill said seriously.

“What do you think she would like?” Ben asked, vulnerability and desperation clear in his eyes as he locked them with Bill’s.

“C-can’t go w-w-wrong with a n-necklace.” Bill took another drink.

“Yeah…” Ben sighed, contemplatively taking a bite of one of his fries. “That doesn’t feel like… special enough though.” He finished the fry. “I feel like it should be something, I don’t know, more. She deserves it.”

“Yeah she does.” Bill agreed sincerely as he took another drink. The boys sat in silence for a few moments, watching Derry townfolk shuffle around on their nameless errands.

“Would it be the most embarrassing thing in the world to get her a promise ring?” Ben said after the silence had stretched too far. Bill shook his head, swallowing the fry he was on.

“Nu-uh. I think sh-she’d love that.”

“Really?” Ben asked nervously.

“Sh-she told me sh-she did s-s-so, yeah.” Bill grinned.

“Oh. I didn’t know you guys talked about…” Ben fiddled with his fingers nervously.

“Y-you guys?” Bill supplied. “B-b-bev and I are still fr-friends, Ben. We talk ab-bout all kinds of stuff.”

“I just didn’t think you’d want to hear about it.” Ben looked at his feet. “I wouldn’t want to if I were you.”

Bill was silent for a beat, thinking. “You l-liked her when we w-were dating, d-d-didn’t you.”

“Yeah.” Ben admitted after a breath. “I’ve liked her since we first met.”

“Th-then you really should get th-that ring.” Bill ate his last fry, wiping the grease from his fingers on the corner of his flannel. Ben watched Bill nervously, almost as if he were afraid he’d angered him. “You kn-know I’m not huh-hurt over you g-g-guys dating.”

“You’re not?”

“No. B-bev and I have always b-b-been better off as fr-friends. You guys were suh-supposed to be tog-gether.” Ben’s jaw dropped slightly at the statement as Bill stood up from the bench, garbage clasped in one hand.

“Bill, it really means a lot to hear you say that.” Ben admitted as he stood as well.

“Sh-shoulda said it s-s-sooner. It’s always b-b-been true.” Bill shrugged, looking up and down the street at the row of stores. His eyes landed on a pawn shop nestled at the end of the block. “Now c-c-c’mon. Let’s go g-get your girlfriend a pr-promise ring.”

______________________________________________________________

“Well that sure was swell, Mikey.” Richie commented bitterly as he paced the Uris living room, a slice of pepperoni pizza in each hand. He had been alternating between the two, taking an angry bite out of one, then the other, then back again. These are technically his third and fourth slices, Stan thought after a brief glance at the pizza box.

“Richie, don’t get pissy with me. If you’re worried about him, go take it up with Eddie.” Mike tore off the end of his breadstick and ate it.

“You’re the one who pissed him off.” Richie took a bite from the left slice, speaking before swallowing. “You should apologize.”

“For what? Looking out for his best interests? And you should chew with your mouth closed. God, what are you, five?” Mike grumbled before finishing off his breadstick.

“Je-sus, Micycle. Bee in your bonnet?” Richie teased, proceeding to take a bite out of the right slice.

“Forgive me if I’m not in the mood, Tozier.” Mike glared at him.

“Would you two cut it out?” Stan cut in, depositing his pizza crust in the lid of the box. “If you’re gonna keep bickering like this, I’m gonna kick you out.”

“On what grounds?” Richie squinted at him.

“The ‘no-whiny-assholes’ clause.” Stan returned the look as he went for another slice.

“Sorry.” Mike mumbled as he grabbed another breadstick.

“I will not yield.” Richie said with a stubborn flourish, polishing off the left slice. Stan rolled his eyes as he shook his head.

“Of course you don’t. Mike, do you think we should have another meeting and tell the rest about what happened?”

Mike looked contemplatively at the carpet. “I’m not opposed to it, but don’t we have a movie night in a couple of days?”

“We could wait till then if you want.”

“That’s probably best. Oh, and Ben got those pictures developed. He’ll probably want us all to take a look at them.”

“What for?” Richie muttered to himself, finishing the crust of the right slice, his now pizza-less hands he wiped off on his jeans. “Said it yourself, won’t do any good.”

“Ben’s peace of mind will probably appreciate it.” Mike quipped. “Besides, he was gonna give a bunch to you.”

Richie folded his arms and turned to look at Mike, who even while sitting on the floor with Stan, still seemed tall, immovable.

“You shouldn’t have said that to Eddie.”

“I’m not wrong.” Mike rebutted, unphased by the quick turn of subject.

“That doesn’t matter. You know he hates being told he’s got something wrong with him.”

“I never said having a panic disorder is wrong.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not going to jump to that conclusion.”

“That’s on him.”

“You hurt his feelings, Mike!”

“I was being honest!”

“That’s not always what Eddie wants.” Stan cut in. “We’ve been friends with him for a long time, Mike. He’s always preferred easy lies over hard truths.”

“It’s how he was raised.” Richie muttered under his breath as he fiddled with the carpet with his bare toes.

“So you baby him and tell him what he wants to hear? How is that any better than his home life?”

Richie and Stan remained silent.

“I’m not going to patronize him. I know he hates that shit even more. I’m going to be honest with him because he’s my friend and he deserves that, even if it makes him angry.”

“That’s fair.” Richie aquiesced after a beat. “But he’s still gonna be pissy with you if you don’t apologize. And he probably won’t listen to your reasoning if he doesn’t like your accusation.”

“He’ll come around.”

______________________________________________________________

Ben arrived home a little later than usual, pocket heavy with the weight of what he’d decided to do that evening. His whole demeanor was effected by the choice, his smile giddy as he unlocked the door. His mother was waiting with freshly reheated dinner, a telltale sign she was near the end of a pay period. The sight of the cheap, frozen meals steaming in their plastic wrap on the table made Ben feel a little sick, and abruptly wish he hadn’t just spent so much of his money. It was supposed to help with groceries you idiot, Ben chastized himself.

“Hey sweetie. Dinner’s on the table.” His mother greeted as she entered the room, smiling at Ben as he shed his shoes.

“I saw, looks delicious, thank you.” Despite his reservations about the situation, Ben would not refuse a meal from his mother, no matter the context. He knew he should sometimes, knew her constant over feeding was an almost exclusive reason for his issues with weight as a young man. But he was also aware it was one of her ways for making up for his father’s absence. She used food to show her love, and if he said he wasn’t hungry, she took it as rejection. Ben may not always be hungry, but God did he constantly love his mother. So frozen dinners it is.

“You look particularly at peace this evening, Benny.” His mother commented as she crossed to the sink and began washing her hands. “Anything exciting happen today?”

Ben smiled shyly to himself as he got a glass and poured some juice from the fridge. “Uh, yeah actually.” He leaned over and set his cup down at his seat, then raised the jug of juice so his mother could see. “Want a glass?”

“Sure, thanks. Tell me about this excitement!” She pressed, drying her hands before sitting down.

“So, remember how I told you Bev and I’s anniversary is next week?” Ben couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he returned the juice to the fridge. “I got her gift today.” He beamed at his mother as he handed her her cup and sat down.

She returned his grin. “What’d you get her?”

Ben looked around conspiratorially, preening when it made his mother laugh. They loved to joke that others might be around, that things must be secret, ever since Ben was a child and loved playing spies. When he deemed the coast was clear, he pulled the small ring box out of his pocket.

“I got her this promise ring.” Ben said as reverently as he held it out under the light. His mother took it in hand, regarding the ring in awe.

“Oh Benny, this is gorgeous.” She breathed.

“Think she’ll like it?” His tone betrayed his nervousness. “Bill helped me pick it out, I was so unsure.”

“Honey, she’ll love it.” She smiled and returned the box to him. “It’s perfect.”

“I sure hope so.” He pocketed the ring box and picked up his fork, using it to tear back the plastic wrap over his food.

“Sorry it’s not plated, I wasn’t sure how late you’d be and I wanted it to stay warm.” His mother said as she took a drink.

“Oh no mom, this is fine. I don’t mind a bit.” Ben shook his head.

“Oh, and speaking of miss Beverly, she left a voicemail for you a little while ago.” She added, cutting into her meatloaf.

“Thanks, I’ll listen to it after dinner.”

They ate in silence for a bit before she spoke again.

“I like that girl, Benny. I like her a lot. Think someday you’ll put a real ring on that finger?”

Ben smiled down at his food.

“I sure hope so.”

______________________________________________________________

“Georgie, can you get the door for us?”

“Sure momma.” Georgie Denbrough responded with a smile as he jumped down from his makeshift vegetable cutting station. His brother, who was tenderizing meat next to him smiled as he watched his brother happily run off.

The doorbell rang again as Georgie rounded the corner. “Coming!” He called sweetly, beaming as he reached the door. He pulled it open easily with his one arm.

“Oh- hi Georgie.”

Georgie squinted at the sight before him, happy but perplexed. Eddie Kaspbrak was on his doorstep, which he was excited about, because Eddie was his friend and he loved seeing him. But Eddie also looked hurt, his chin covered in bandaids and spots of dried blood on his yellow tee shirt.

“Hi Eddie.” Georgie kept his smile plastered on his face, reminding himself of what his mother always tells him; don’t ask people invasive questions, Georgie.

“Is your brother home?” Eddie asked nervously, wringing his hands on the bottom of his shirt.

“Yeah, he’s in the kitchen.” Georgie gestured across his body, jerking towards the kitchen with a thumb. “Are you staying for dinner?”

Eddie gave a short, airy laugh. “I’ll have to ask. Can I talk to him?”

“Billy!” Georgie suddenly switched to his outside voice. “Eddie’s here!”

Eddie gave Georgie a slightly surprised expression, impressed by the kid’s volume. A moment later Bill arrived in the doorway, chiding Georgie about yelling in the house. He stopped abruptly as he caught sight of Eddie in the doorway.

“Ed-eddie.” He crinkled his brow. “You alright?”

“Uh, sorta. I’m- can uh, can I stay over tonight?”

“Yeah, of course. W-we’re just making-”

“Dinner, yeah, I’ll help.” Eddie scurried into the house, not bothering to give Bill a chance to finish the thought. The boys shared a look as they left the doorway, its meaning indecipherable to Georgie. He huffed to himself, feeling a bit angry about once again being left out of things, and went to close the door. He stopped his motion at the sight of the edges of their front garden, his gaze on the bushes that came up to the side of the doorstep. The small yellow flowers that usually bloomed on its stems in spring were opening up, unfurling at an unnatural speed, leaving the bush covered in fresh blossoms before it stopped. Georgie watched with wide eyes, confounded by the sight before him.

Momma’s right, he thought as he finally willed himself to close the door. I’ve been watching too many cartoons.

______________________________________________________________

authors notes: sorry this took forever to come out! i told myself i’d put it up on wednesday. i did not accomplish that lmao. anyways he’res another installment, things are really starting to pick up! in the pop culture universe georgie has one arm; the denbroughs were in an accident when the boys were young, where georgie lost his arm and bill sustained the brain damage that causes his stutter. also no one is more of a benverly cheerleader than bill. 

tagslist: @s-s-stutteringbill @gazeboseddie @misssiriusblack @mythgirl96 @crackhousetozier @reddieaddict @wincestklaine @beepbeep-losers @ayyyymichele @megelizabethvh @tapetayloe @flickerflies @ghostbustermike @i-is-gazebo @reddiesetrichie @wyttolff @gayzier @kaspbrak-is-our-king @mikedenbrough @28shoes @nicoperryy @kinghanscom @eddiecare @shadysandi @fyeahreddie @reddieforlove

#prior.txt #prior.fic #popcultureverse #it #losers club #reddie #benverly #stenbrough #stenbranlon #it fic #reddie fic

[tangerinewrites]

DAY 2: RICKY

11/2/2020

wc: 1775 words

It is the second time Ricky has to experience the year 2020. After what had gone down the last time he had experienced it, he as well as the rest of the Rebellion had hoped that this time around would be different. With the life events changing and the many new differences from this timeline to the last, there was a possibility of life changing for the better.

That, of course, was if Kim Taehyung was optimistic to have hoped for that.

Much change has happened in the last four years. More in the sense where Ricky finds himself becoming more of an authoritative figure than he was in the past. It had been in effect since the beginning of the year 2018.

He was on a mission with the other special class heroes, as well as with Jaebum and Kihyun. Split into groups, Ricky had been put with the two whilst the other half of the group split up to look for their target: the vicious Devil card. And Ricky could say with full confidence that he and his group struggled to find it.

“Do you have any idea of where it could be?” he asks impatiently to the president.

“No,” he answers with an annoyed sigh. “Ricky, how many times are you going to ask this? Are you a child?”

“I am not,” Ricky huffs like a child. “I am twenty-two years old and I have a date with my boyfriend in a few hours. I want to be able to prepare so that I don’t look like shit when I arrive there.”

“You couldn’t have given Yoongi a raincheck?” Kihyun asks before he rolls his eyes.

“No! Because I don’t want to do that to my boyfriend that I’ve had for a year and 5 months.” When he retorts with that, his volume increases slightly. It was nothing new, given the fact that Ricky and him were always known for arguing with each other.

As expected, Kihyun starts to lose his temper with the other. “Well, you know what-”

“Guys! Shh!” Jaebum whisper-shouts at the two before looking back to the front. “I hear something! This might be it!”

The two immediately rap up their bickering as they turn their heads to get back onto their mission, their awareness levels being at its peak with the fact that they had to listen carefully for a sign of anything. Jaebum, despite the fact that Taehyung teases him for his “old age” wasn’t totally wrong in the fact that he heard something in the wilderness. Ricky definitely hears rustling and he places his right index’s tip slightly above his ring on his left hand in the case he needed to transform immediately. The others already had their own weapons out, but Taehyung had hoped that they wouldn’t have to encounter this card until later.

How wrong they were.

“Jaebum, get your phone’s flashlight and see if there’s anyone in front of us,” Kihyun advised. “Just to make sure we’re on the right track.”

The League president nods as he grabs his cellphone right away to shine a light in the area in front of him. Ricky wasn’t too much of a coward to admit that he was getting a little bit scared of what was to happen, but he tries his best to remain calm despite the pressure given to the team sent to find this card. The light does indeed catch a figure in front of them: a young male who was standing in the field, looking as lost as ever.

Feeling a little less like they were in danger, the three of them set their weapons aside and carefully walk over to the boy. As they approach him slowly, the three of them argue over who should be the one to say something to him when it finally ends on their leader. “Hey, kid. Are you lost?”

The boy looks back at them and they were able to see his face clearly. He definitely looked younger than Ricky, the youngest of the three heroes, was. But he didn’t look like a child, that’s for sure. “Yeah…” he responds innocently. “I think I am.”

“Do you want us to help find your way home?” Jaebum asks suddenly.

“What?!” Ricky whisper-shouts before the other two heroes glare back at him. “Sorry, sorry,” he says in a hushed voice, rolling his eyes afterwards as he mumbles to himself.

The boy nods his head. “Please. That’d be great. My grandma must be worried sick about me.”

“Of course,” the boy responds with a kind smile. “How about you follow my friends and I to somewhere more safer? And then from there, we can call your grandmother from there?”

The young boy nods in response. Jaebum looks back at the others as they look at him expectantly, waiting for him to give orders. “Let’s get back to the base.”

The both of them nod and the three heroes went on their way, the little boy tagging along with them.

Though Ricky personally didn’t mind walking in silence with the other behind him, it seemed that Jaebum thought differently from him as he began asking the younger boy questions. “What’s your name?”

“Yeonjun,” he responds. “Choi Yeonjun.”

“How old are you?” Kihyun decides to join the questions. “You look a little too young to be here on your own.”

“I’m turning nineteen in a few months. I’m eighteen now.”

“Why were you all alone in the wilderness in the first place?” Jaebum asks the question all of them were probably wondering. “Especially this late at night?”

“I had to get some things to help my grandma. She wanted me to get her flowers and a few fruit.”

At the mention of fruit, Taehyung stopped in his tracks. It was dramatic enough that the other three turned around and looked curiously at him. This wilderness and the mention of fruits… it all brought back a traumatizing memory for him. And as a result, Ricky felt himself back away from the group.

"What’s up?” Jaebum asks in a concerned tone. As he says that, he sees Yeonjun turn his body to face him. His eyes glow red and it’s insane how he was the only one to see this now.

Perhaps the fear on his face was obvious as Kihyun decides to speak up now. “Ricky, you’re freaking me out here. Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“There’s no way Yeonjun couldn’t have gotten fruit here,” he answers immediately. “The only plant here that offers fruit is the Tantalus. And that tree is not for humans.”

The moment the both of them realize this, the two turn back to face Yeonjun without his innocent, youthful persona. Rather, they see a tall, terrifying human who had grown horns on his head as well as haunting eyes that glowed so brightly even in the dark. And when he smiles, sharp fangs are beared.

“Who the fuck are you?!” Jaebum gasps.

“To everyone, I’m just a young boy. But to you,” he laughs menacingly. “I will be your worst nightmare.”

A month has passed since that incident and all the team captains and special class heroes are brought to headquarters to hold an important discussion with Kihyun. In the past month, the entire League of Magical Heroes in Busan had to grieve for the death of their president Im Jaebum. His vice president still has yet to heal from the event, having lost someone he considered so precious to him. Many of the rookie heroes even spread a rumor about how he may quit as a result. And though Ricky cursed at them for even badmouthing him and Jaebum after what he had witnessed, a part of him had to admit that didn’t sound too unrealistic.

So he naturally assumes that the meeting today was concerning that. And he listens to Kihyun admit that to everyone there.

“In order to be able to fully heal from such a tragedy, I will not be taking Jaebum’s role as president, nor will I be able to continue on as a vice president under this League anymore,” he responds, his tone undecipherable for the heroes to know what he was feeling. But Ricky knew from experiencing this pain once and having worked with the older a lot that Kihyun was breaking inside.

“I understand that without a proper leader, our entire League will fall into chaos. And Jaebum understood that as well. And though the both of us didn’t expect this to happen to him so soon, we had already previously made up our minds of who we wished to take full responsibility over the entire league in his place.”

The group of leaders already begin to start chattering and Kihyun clears his throat so that he can get the entire room to be silent once again. Compared to them, Ricky couldn’t help but keep silent. Life had not been the same since he saw Jaebum die right in front of his eyes in the hands of a card. He saw it in the past lifetime due to another beast during the Apocalypse, but this soon? And by the hands of the Devil card as well? It almost felt like a nightmare to him at this point.

“That being said,” Kihyun continuess and he looks directly at Taehyung. As soon as the both of them have eye contact, Ricky already feels dread at what the next words were going to be. Never did he think that he was in a position to be a leader of a group. Sure, he was a special class hero, but there was a reason he was that instead of a team leader. He didn’t have courage or optimism that Jaebum had. He was definitely not as responsible or serious like Kihyun was. If anyone deserved to be leader in this room, he would’ve picked either Kana or Sunggyu. But not him.

He shakes his head and mouths no repeatedly, but the other looks at him with eyes that are clouded in sadness. When Kihyun gives him a nod, Ricky feels his heart drop as he realizes that this is really what Jaebum wanted. And after all that had just happened recently, the last thing he’d want to do at this point was disappoint any other person he held close to his heart. So, defeatedly, he stops and nods back at Kihyun to continue with the rest of the announcement. One thing’s for sure though is that he was going to go to him later to talk about this.

“…your president from this point on is Kim Taehyung.”

#( * MTM:U - RICKY ) #( * NANO! ) #⎣I'M JUST A WILD ANIMAL⎦

[alchemine]

i refuse to give this fic a title

…because that will make it too official and I’ll have to commit to finishing it.

anyway here’s Danny trying with Dannylike earnestness to convince a very sceptical Jo that he’s going to be her researcher in another twenty-odd years. 

and here are the previous two parts to keep it all together:

part 1 | part 2

After parting from Jo outside the gates of St Margaret’s, Danny spent a miserable day trying to stay occupied and dry. A museum would have been perfect if there’d been one nearby, but he’d already walked so far to find Jo that he didn’t think his feet could bear any more of that just yet, and he didn’t want to spend his last bits of money on transport. He lingered in a bookshop for as long as he could, and then when there was a break in the rain, went out and walked along the paths on the green, past a half-flooded and deserted children’s playground and under trees that dripped down his neck. 

Along the way, he thought with a slowly growing sense of horror about what was going to happen when night fell, as it would all too soon. A few months ago, he’d done a massive amount of research on homelessness and written up a report on it for Jo—Future Jo, that was—so he knew more than he wanted to about the perils that awaited rough sleepers, ranging from being pissed on by passersby to being beaten and robbed to simply dying of exposure. He didn’t want any of that, but what other options did he have? Even if he was able to make Current Jo believe his situation, he didn’t think she was going to let him spend the night on her bedroom floor as if they were a pair of schoolmates having a sleepover. Maybe her parents had a garden shed and he could wedge himself in between the wheelbarrow and the hedge clippers. At least he’d be dry. 

Just before four, he doubled back, found the café Jo had mentioned, and discovered she was there ahead of him, seated at a table with an open packet of Marlboro Lights in front of her and the dead ends of three of them in an ashtray at her elbow. She also had a half-eaten croissant on a plate, and the sight of it made Danny’s stomach come to life and twist itself into gurgling knots. His last meal had been either eighteen hours or twenty-three years ago, depending on how you counted, and that was just too long. 

Not now, he thought, and approached the table. Jo was reading a book, wearing the same scrunched-forehead look of concentration she always had when reading anything, but as he got closer, she saw him coming and laid the book aside. Her expression was neutral, but he could see her whole body visibly tensing, ready to fight or flee if it came to that. 

“I thought you were only going to wait ten minutes,” he said. 

“Starting from four. I was early.” Jo looked at her watch. “All right, I promised we could talk, and here we are. What’s so important that you had to follow me like a stalker to tell me?”

“Can I sit down?” 

“Well, you’ll look silly just standing there, won’t you?” She gestured at the empty chair opposite her, and he pulled it out and sat. He’d had plenty of time during his long, dull day to think about how to break the news to her, and at last had decided just to tell her and then produce whatever proof he could. It was the sort of story that was equally unbelievable whether you crept up on it from behind or confronted it head-on. 

“Are you going to eat the rest of that?” He pointed to her croissant half. 

“No, why?”

“Do you mind if I have it?” 

“I suppose not,” Jo said warily, as if she thought he might be planning to take it home with him and add it to a creepy serial-killer collection of artefacts. She pushed the plate across the table to him, and he took the croissant and tried, not very successfully, to eat in small bites to make it last longer. 

“You could buy a whole one, you know,” Jo said, watching him. “They do sell them to anyone.” 

“It’s complicated.” Danny suppressed an urge to lick his finger and use it to wipe up the crumbs on the plate. “Thanks for that.” 

“You’re welcome. Now let’s have that story.” 

This was the moment Danny had been dreading, but there was nothing for it. He steeled himself and began. “This morning when I stopped you outside the school, I said that you knew me.” 

“Yes, and I said I didn’t, because I don’t.” 

“Well, you’re half right,” he said. “You don’t know me now, but…you do know me in the future. That’s where I’ve come from. I fell asleep last night in 2008, and I woke up here.” 

There was a long, long pause, and then without a word, Jo stood up and bent to collect her school bag from the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving. This is ridiculous. Do you think I’m some sort of idiot?” She stuffed her book down into the bag–it was Nineteen Eighty-Four, Danny saw–and buckled the front flap with an angry snap. “I don’t know what I expected from someone who followed me off a bus. Fuck off and goodbye.” 

“No, wait,” Danny said, feeling desperate. 

“Why should I do that?”

“You promised me five minutes and it hasn’t been that long yet,” he said. “And I’ve got proof. Let me show you.” 

“Oh Christ,” Jo said, but she sat down again, bag clasped against the front of her blazer. “What’s your proof?”   

“Here.” Danny pulled his remaining coins out of his pocket and spread them out on the hard tabletop, amongst the white rings left by a thousand cups of coffee and tea. “Look at the dates on these. Nothing from before 2001.” 

“So you’ve got some sham coins. That doesn’t prove a thing. And you can go to prison for counterfeiting, by the way.” 

“They’re real. And there’s more.” He opened his wallet and started laying out credit and cashpoint cards just above the scatter of coins. “See? This one expires in 2009. This one expires in 2012. What sort of bank issues a card that doesn’t expire for almost thirty years?” 

“If you can forge coins you can forge those too,” Jo said stubbornly. She looked at her watch again. “You’ve only got two minutes left.” 

“All right, here’s something else.” Danny looked around, but the café was in the midst of a lull and there were only a few other occupied tables. When he was sure no one was watching, he reached into his coat pocket, pulled out his mobile and flipped it open, bringing the tiny screen to life. 

“What’s that?” Jo leant closer, genuinely curious for the first time in their conversation. Her hair fell forward over her shoulders, and she pushed it back in a gesture so familiar that Danny felt lightheaded with déjà vu. 

“It’s a mobile phone. They’re going to be huge in about…” He had to think about it. “Another ten years, maybe. It takes photos as well. Look at this.” He pressed buttons and brought up a shot of the two of them together at a reception for a visiting ambassador. “That’s you and me last year, in 2007.” 

Jo’s eyes narrowed as she bent over the small, slightly pixellated image of her future self wearing a dark blue dress and pearls, smirking crookedly at the camera with Danny’s arm draped round her shoulders. 

“It does look like me a bit, but…” She glanced up sharply. “You’re not going to try to tell me you’re my boyfriend or something, are you? Because you’re too old for me and definitely too young for the woman in this photo, so either way I’m not having it.” 

“No, that’s not it at all. I work for you. We’re colleagues.” 

“You work for me? Where?” 

“You’re a junior minister in the Home Secretary’s office,” Danny said. “I’m your researcher.”  

Jo still looked suspicious, but she sat back a bit in her chair and let her bag slide to the floor of the café. “All right, I admit that does sound like a job I’d want to do, but you still haven’t shown me any real proof it’s true. How do I know that’s really me in the photo? Or that your mobile phone thingy actually came from the future?” 

“Have you ever seen one before?” 

“No,” Jo said, “but new things are invented all the time, aren’t they? Maybe it’s from Japan and the shops will be full of them by Christmas.” 

Danny ground his teeth. He knew all about Jo’s penchant for poking holes in arguments—it was one of the traits that would make her a fearsome debate opponent in their own time—but at the moment it was just making things difficult. He cast about for some bit of information he could give her that she couldn’t refute, and suddenly remembered a story she had told him once when she was very drunk.

“Okay,” he said. “You do want to go into politics after you’ve got your degree, don’t you?”

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

“I know you have. You told me—or you will tell me, later—that you’d been interested in a political career ever since you were a teenager. But you also told me that before then, when you were nine or ten, your big dream was to ride horses in the Olympics. You’d seen the Montreal Games, and you thought the equestrian competition was amazing and wanted to do it too, but you knew your parents wouldn’t buy you a horse or let you have riding lessons, and you were afraid that people would laugh, so you never told anyone. Am I right?” 

Jo’s face went chalk-white, and Danny felt like a monster, but pressed his advantage. “I am right, aren’t I?” 

“You can’t possibly know that,” she said faintly. 

“But I do. I know because you told me.” He left out the bit about how she’d been so pissed at the time that he’d nearly had to pick her up and pour her into the waiting cab at the end of the evening. Asking her to accept that he’d come from the future seemed like enough without also mentioning the drink problem that awaited her there.  

“Oh my God,” Jo said. She propped her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands, as if she were worried it might fall off. Dusk was gathering fast outside the café’s windows, the lights from cars and shops casting long, bright streaks of red and white and yellow onto the wet black tarmac, and he wondered whether anyone would be missing Jo if he kept her here much longer. He didn’t know anything about her home life at this age; for all he knew, she was expected for a family meal at six sharp every evening. 

“Jo? You all right?”

“Not really, but let’s pretend I am to make things easier.” Jo straightened up and rubbed both hands over her face. “Okay. We’ll assume for a moment that I believe you, which I’m not entirely sure yet that I do. At some point in the future, I become a politician, and you’re a member of my staff.” 

“Yes.” 

“And how long have you known me?” 

“Erm…ten years I think? I met you when I was seventeen and I’m twenty-seven now. You hired me as your researcher five years ago.” 

“Fair enough, but you’re not just my researcher, are you? I mean we must know each other pretty well if I’ve told you about my secret childhood horsey fantasies.” 

“Well, yes,” Danny said, wondering where she was headed with this. “We’re friends too. We’ve been through a lot together.”    

“Right,” Jo said. “So consider this, Danny. When we met—meet—whatever, did I behave as if I’d met you before?”

“No,” Danny said. He thought back to that long-ago evening, to being uncomfortable in his white shirt and black waistcoat and irritable about being pressed into duty. “I was serving canapés at a party. I offered you some smoked salmon crostini and you said thanks. That’s all.” 

“And in all the years we’ve been friends and colleagues, I’ve never, ever said anything to make you think that when I was eighteen, you’d turned up outside my school raving like a madman and we’d had this conversation?” 

“No.” 

“Well, that’s strange,” Jo said. “Because if this is happening now, then in the future it’s already happened, hasn’t it? Now-me knows about it, so future-me must as well. Why wouldn’t she have told you?”  

#it's cracky crackfiiiiiic #party animals #jo porter #danny foster #raquel cassidy #matt smith

[tinypeckers]

Are you campfire? Because you’re hot & I want s’more.

Pairing(s): Aleks/James (NovaHD) and… well, you’ll just have to find out.

Words: 3,028

AO3

Summary: Summer rolls around once more and really, there’s a tradition to uphold and the tents & camp fire are calling their name. Except Dan and Jordan are going to have their hands full keeping James & Aleks apart for a different reason. (Part of the ‘Is that a flicker in your eyes?’ universe.)

One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine TenEleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen FifteenSixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen

A/N: whAT’’S THIS? She said weekly and meant it? Horrifying, truly horrifying.

“I can’t, I can’t believe it,” Aleks was doubled over again. He was smacking his knee, trying to regain composure but every time he straightened up and looked at James he laughed again. Even Seamus and Eddie were giggling, though both were trying to hide it in case James went after them.

“Now, now,” Dan said as he watched the tip of his son’s ears go red, “we shouldn’t be laughing. We should be very proud of James, he managed the zip wire.” Dan pat James’ back. He was proud of James, he’d done well. He’d promised James that if he even attempted it, he’d buy him a gift. James was now quite happily holding an oversized icee cup shaped like a tree.

“Yeah, he did it and I’m amazed but, but – why did you yell like Tarzan?” Aleks choked on his words.

“I didn’t mean to! It just happened, okay. Now shut up or I’m leaving you back at the campsite and bringing Eddie on our date,” James threatened.

 Aleks stood up, all laughter gone from his face. Instead his nose was wrinkled and he looked at James as though he was a piece of poo.

“Ew, that’s gross James. You don’t take your younger brother on a date,” Aleks said. James flipped Aleks off.

“Well, duh, it wouldn’t be a date if I took Eddie, would it? It’d be… a brother thing.” James shrugged. Aleks was still pulling that stupid face at him but at least he’d stopped laughing. Eddie looked slightly disappointed, he’d wanted to know what his brother and Aleks did on their dates. Beside kissing, that is. He was sure that was pretty much all they did but they had to do something else – right?

 “Right, before we leave does anyone else need to go to the bathroom?” Jordan wiped his hands on his shorts. The moment they’d stepped on solid ground he’d high-tailed it to the toilets and had been there for an awkwardly long time. Dan and all of the boys shook their heads. “All right then, is everybody ready to go then?” Jordan looked to everyone. They all nodded. He led the way, glad to see the last of the retched place. It was mid-afternoon and all he could think about was lunch. Dan had promised something good and something greasy and it was all that Jordan could think about. He could picture it now, an oversized burger oozing cheese and packed with salady goodness. Or, or, Jordan thought, it could be some ribs or bacon that sizzled while Dan cooked. Jordan rubbed at his stomach. Yeah, food is what he needed right now.

 _ -_

 The car was still running when Jordan jumped out. By the time Dan had shut his own door, Jordan stood in front of him holding the BBQ and the tools Dan would need to make food. Dan laughed though he took the BBQ, walking far too slowly around the car for Jordan’s liking. Jordan gently pushed at his back to encourage him to move faster.

“Is anyone else hungry?” Dan almost stumbled as he set the BBQ down, Jordan pushing a little too heavily.  Seamus’ hand shot up before Dan had even finished the word ‘hungry’. Eddie shrugged, smiling at his friend as he waved his hand back and forth frantically. James looked to Aleks, who looked back at James, and they both shook their heads.

 Jordan hovered over Dan while he cooked, shadowed by his son. They were both watering at the mouth, rubbing their hands together and sniffing the air at random periods of time. Dan was almost blinded when Aleks took a photo of them all, reviewing it and smiling down at his phone. Dan blinked away the flashes of light Aleks’ phone had left behind and poked at the meat.

“Are you sure you two don’t want any food?” Dan asked. James and Aleks had changed since they’d got home. Dan’s son was wearing dark jeans and a shirt, while Jordan’s son wore ripped jeans and a t-shirt. Come to think of it, Dan wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Aleks wear anything formal. James didn’t seem to mind the fact that his boyfriend wasn’t as dressed up as he was.

“Nah, we’re all right – we’re heading off soon,” Aleks said.

 James walked up to him and pulled on his elbow. Aleks turned to face him, showing James the photo he’d just taken. James smiled at first, then looked up and saw how crazed Seamus and Jordan looked. It couldn’t be long before they were ravenously ripping into the ribs his Dad had made. James wasn’t sure he wanted to around for that and besides, he was getting a little hungry himself. He tugged again on Aleks’ arm, nodding in the direction away from their little pitch.

“Seriously, c’mon – we can go and get some food before your Dad and Moose eat everything,” James said. Aleks let his boyfriend guide him, though he couldn’t take his eyes from his family as Dan placed the first rib onto a paper plate. Jordan looked like he was ready to fight Seamus for it. Before that could happen though, James had dragged Aleks so that they were out of sight.

 James grabbed Aleks’ hand and swung their arms back and forth. The campsite was pretty quiet and most of the campers were out doing things just as they had this morning. They saw the occasional family sitting outside soaking up the nice weather. It was warm, but not too warm that it was uncomfortable and a gentle breeze would occasionally brush through the campsite and rustle some tents. Birds chirped from the trees that dotted around the gravel path they followed. It crunched beneath their feet as they walked in comfortable silence. Aleks was content to look around and James was content to simply look at him. It was hard to believe they’d stomped about this idyllic place last year hating each other’s guts.

 “So, where are we going?” Aleks asked once he’d seen all that he could see. After a while all the tents tended to look the same and the families could be rather loud and would disturb his peaceful watching. He looked to James now, who was smiling back at him.

“Oh, just a five star restaurant,” James said. Aleks rolled his eyes. Yeah, they were going to get into a five star restaurant in jeans. Still, he played along.

“Nice. How are we going to get there?” Aleks swung their arms a little more roughly. James clicked his tongue and whacked his forehead with his hand.

“I didn’t think that part through, fuck, guess we’ll just have to eat at the clubhouse instead,” James said.

 Aleks’ eyes went wide. They hadn’t been back to the clubhouse since that night. He looked down at his bandaged hand and it seemed to throb with the memory.

“The clubhouse? Are they even going to let us in?” Aleks asked. James shrugged.

“Hopefully. If they don’t, we’ll just go into the woods and steal Yogi Bear’s pic-uh-nic basket,” James said and Aleks laughed. In truth, he didn’t have a plan if they weren’t let in. They might have to turn around and beg Dan to make them some food too. James just hoped it didn’t come to that because he was sure once they were there, they’d never leave. His dad would rope them into a game of monopoly and they’d be at the campsite for months trying to lose the game and be free.

 When they got to the clubhouse the security on the door did look at them funnily. He whispered something into his radio as they passed through but they weren’t stopped or told to leave. James sighed and led Aleks through to the bar area. In the day it was well lit and practically empty. There was a couple sitting by the bar having their own lunch, a large family being obnoxious in the middle of the room and a lone old man on a table close to the door. James led his boyfriend towards the tables by the stage even though it was empty and the curtains were closed. He pulled out a chair for Aleks to sit down and helped to tuck him in once he had. He gave Aleks his menu, classily printed on an A4 piece of paper with clipart and laminated for extra protection, and took his own seat. Their options weren’t exactly 5* material, ranging from a burger and a portion of fries to nachos.

 Aleks sat studying the menu, hmming and aaahing, every so often. James scoffed every time and put his menu down pretty quickly. Aleks peered at him over his menu.

“What are you going to have?” He asked.

“Just a burger and fries, I think – what about you?” James said. Aleks nodded, looked thoughtful and then glanced back down at the menu.

“I’m not sure, I heard that the burger is to die for and it does sound tempting but you see, I am rather swayed by the hot dog with a side of onion rings,” Aleks said. He reminded James of every actor who’d ever played a Butler on TV as he tried to put on a crappy British accent.

“Oh, right – did you see the sandwiches though? I know they’re small but they were featured in that food magazine,” James played along. Aleks laughed behind his menu.

“Cheap, you mean. I assume you’re paying?” Aleks looked at him again. James nodded. “In that case I think I’ll stick to my hot dog. Make sure you get the onion rings too.” Aleks grinned.

 James sighed heavily. It’s not as though the clubhouse was particularly expensive but he was a teenager after all and despite his part time job and the odd pocket money from his Dad he wasn’t rich. Still, this had been his idea and it was his turn to treat Aleks.

“Fine, if you insist. What would you like to drink with your food? Perhaps some wine?” James asked. Aleks raised his eyebrow, questioning whether the offer was real. They weren’t old enough, clearly, but it could be worth a shot. Then again, Aleks hadn’t done so well after the beer.

“No, no – it’ll go to my head and I’ve got to drive home yet. I’ll just have a soda please.” Aleks put his menu down and James nodded.

 He watched his boyfriend go, smiling as James approached the bar. He couldn’t see him very well but Aleks knew that even after just a second of waiting James would start to drum his fingers against the bar. He was the only one there though so the bartender did come up to him rather quickly. Aleks kept watching as James was served and then as he started to come back to the table. He carried the two sodas in his hand like they were live bombs, staring intently at the glasses as the liquid threatened to spill over the top of the glass. Aleks shook his head as James neared, jokingly shaking one of the glasses and only serving to spill it onto his own shoe. James placed that one in front of Aleks and the undisturbed glass in front of himself.

“Thanks.” Aleks’ nose wrinkled as he wiped the sticky soda off of the side of his glass.

“No problem,” James beamed.

 They sat in silence for a moment before Aleks nodded towards the stage.

“Are you enjoying the entertainment?” He asked. James frowned. He quickly glanced at the stage and then back to Aleks to make sure that nothing had happened while he had gone to get the drinks. The curtains were still drawn and the only sound besides the other customers’ conversation was some old 90s pop music they were playing quietly through the speaker. It took James a second to catch on and only then did he smile and relax into his seat.

“Oh, yes, the topless dancers really do add some class to this place,” James grinned. Aleks rolled his eyes and sipped at his soda.

“Mm, though I’m worried one of their nipple tassles might come loose and fly into our drinks,” Aleks said.

 James reached across and covered Aleks’ cup for him. He looked deep into Aleks’ eyes and slowly nodded as he spoke:

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect your soda.” James cracked up then, pulling his hand back and shaking it where his fingers had touched the sticky side.

“Just how you protected me on that zip wire?” Aleks relaxed back into his chair, smirking.

“You forced me on that and it wasn’t my fault that at one point you wobbled, it was your own doing. We could have been on the ground, you know, like sane people do.” James snapped.

“If you’re going to be grumpy, I guess I might have to drive back early…” Aleks ran his finger around the rim of his glass. James pouted and gestured to the drink.

“After I spent all this money on your food? How rude of you,” James said. Aleks shrugged.

“Well, the dancer on the far right looks like her nipple tassle might fly off and ruin it any minute now,” Aleks said.

 The waiter coughed as he held their food. He looked at Aleks strangely and smiled at James.

“Hot dog?” He asked. James nodded to Aleks, covering his laughter behind his hand and slumping further into his seat. Aleks’ face flushed and he thanked the waiter under his breath as his food was put in front of him. The waiter handed James’ burger and nodded to the pair. “I’ll be bringing the onion rings over in just a minute.” He said before he rushed away. Aleks smacked his hand against his face and hung his head in shame. He groaned beneath his fingers and James let himself laugh out loud. Aleks looked at him through his fingers and pouted despite James not being able to see.

“You could have warned me,” Aleks snapped. James held his hands up in surrender.

“I didn’t know!” James declared his innocence. He wish he had though, he’d have stolen Aleks’ stupid selfie stick and taken a photo of the complete and utter fail.

 The waiter came by and dropped off the onion rings. He placed them between the pair in the middle of the table. Aleks was quick to pull them closer to him, shielding the little bowl with his arm.

“What are you doing that for?” James said as he chomped on a fry. Aleks glared at him.

“You’ll eat them.” He said. James frowned, picking up his burger and taking a bite.

“No I wo’” James said but Aleks kept his defence up. He awkwardly held his hot dog up one-handedly and James grinned as Aleks struggled to keep the sausage inside of the bun. He swallowed his bite and nodded in his boyfriend’s direction, “struggling?” James asked. Aleks shook his head. The sausage slipped out of the bun and landed with a plop on Aleks’ plate. James cracked up, clapping his hands together and pointing at his boyfriend.

 Aleks scowled and reached across the table, snatching a handful of fries from James’ plate.

“Hey, you can’t do that!” James tried to take some of Aleks’ onion rings but he was slapped away aggressively. “I paid for it.” He tried again but Aleks pushed him back. Then he grabbed one onion ring and chucked it across the table. James almost dropped it. He caught it just before it rolled off of the table. Aleks wrinkled his nose as he took a great bite.

“You’re gross,” Aleks said as he reached across and took some more of James’ fries. James frowned.

“If you’d have just let me take one I wouldn’t have to have eaten the one that rolled across this gross table,” James said.

“Yeah well, it’s the only one that you’re getting.” Aleks stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend. He reached across for more fries but this time James slapped him away.

“Fuck you, Aleksandr.” He smiled.

 They escaped the clubhouse the second they were done. It was starting to fill up as the day crawled on and neither of them really wanted to wait around to see the entertainment.

“This was nice, thank you.” Aleks said. He retook James’ hand and kissed the back of it.

“Gay,” James snorted. Aleks huffed and dropped his their hands. James clicked his tongue and forced their hands back together. He stepped closer to Aleks and bumped their shoulders, “just kidding. I had fun.” James said. Aleks nodded. It was nice, simple. That was all they needed after the excitement of the day. The walked slowly back to their camp, not wanting to rejoin their family just yet. There were more people milling around now and they could smell plenty of BBQs being set alit.

“Shall we just get into a tent when we get back?” Aleks asked.

“And do what, Aleksandr?” James wriggled his eyebrows up and down. Aleks scoffed, disgusted.

“Not what you’re thinking, James. I just mean so that we don’t get roped into monopoly,” Aleks said. James nodded. That sounded like a great idea.

 When they returned to camp, their dads and brothers were too engrossed in the monopoly game to realise that they had come home. They snuck into what was supposed to be James’ and Eddie’s tent and got comfortable in James’ sleeping bag after stripping down to just their boxers and their t-shirts. Aleks’ hands were tucked up between his and James’ chests. James wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and drew mindless shapes against his back. He pressed a kiss to Aleks’ forehead.

“I hope we come back here next year,” Aleks said quietly.

“Yeah? You growing fond of bugs and early mornings?” James asked. Aleks shook his head.

“No, it’s just a special place.” Aleks smiled up at him. James mirrored his expression. He moved forward to kiss Aleks properly and they fell into the familiar pattern of their lips and tongues sliding together. Yeah, James thought, it really was a special place.

#slypkc #novahd #crtcampingau #fanfic #series

[yeolsmuffin]

Married to a Monster - Two

Paring: kaiXreader, minseokXreader

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre: Angst&Fluff || husband!Jongin, best friend!Jongdae, best friend!Minseok

Summary: Being forced into a marriage with your first love/childhood best friend is messy - especially when he was the sole reason you attempted to kill yourself and the reason your body is riddled with scars. Old wounds were opened but you pushed yourself to figure things out, if not for yourself, then for your deceased sister whose death seemed to keep haunting you and Jongin.

Notes: This series will contain talk of suicide, self-harm, abuse, death and possibly more. Smut will be rated [M].

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen [M] | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty [M] | Twenty-One | Twenty-Two |

Finally, Kai was to kiss his lovely bride and you pressed your eyes as tightly shut as you could. The kiss wasn’t long, but you sure it was long enough for Kai to taste your tears – and you hoped he tasted your years of pain as well.

Your eyes were blurred when Kai pulled away and lifted your interlocked hands in the air as he walked you back down the aisle. Halfway there, you shook so hard, you almost collapsed but Kai steadied you with a hand on your lower back making you want to cringe away. But you held it in. After all, you were your parents only daughter and even though you wanted another wedding – you knew this would be your only one.

Bitterly, you sat at the bride and grooms table with Kai. You sat as far at the small table would allow you too as you stared off into the distance as Kai made small talk with the various family members and friends that were coming up to talk to the two of you.

You had stopped your crying at the reception as you didn’t want to draw any more attention than necessary. Instead, you sat silently as you let Kai do all the talking. He had a commanding voice and led the conversations well, talking about things you weren’t interested in hearing about.

While you waited for the night to be over, you just kept your mind occupying by making up songs in your head. ‘I can’t wait to go home so I can lock myself in my bedroom’ and ‘I hate Kai so much maybe I’ll poison his breakfast’. You knew that in fact, you wouldn’t be returning to your home but instead of a new large home for you and Kai to stay in. You hoped it would be big enough that you didn’t even have to see his face. You couldn’t even bear to think of the ‘honeymoon’ that you two would have to embark on. Inwardly you groaned.

Kai was occupied talking to a business partner when your eyes were met with a smiling face in front of you and long fingers poking you on your side to your left. You gave them the best smile you could as the pulled chairs from another table to over by you. Minseok sat closest to you and you couldn’t help but eye him in his suit, noting how extravagant he looked. Once you pulled your eyes from him, you acknowledged Jongdae who looked just as enticing. You screamed at the Gods, wondering why you got the dick out of the group and why you couldn’t have gotten one of these two.

“I don’t think married women are supposed to have wandering eyes,” Jongdae joked earning a smack from you.

Minseok rolled his eyes, ignoring Jongdae. “How are you feeling?” His voice was no more than a whisper.

“Like my whole life has been snatched out from under me,” you said glumly, not bothering to lower your voice much and feeling Kai’s heated gaze on your back as you were turned speaking to his friends.

They both dropped their smiles. “It will all be okay,” Jongdae tried to comfort you, reaching across Minseok and brushing his warm fingers over your hand.

“What have you two been up to?” you asked changing the conversation. There was no point in continuing with what Jongdae said because it would not be okay. You were curious, though, wondering if they were still up to no good seeing as how you had blocked them out of your life for two years.

“Nothing really,” Minseok quickly said.

You nodded slowly, “Same old stuff, huh?”

You assumed they were still into drugs and doing whatever they hell else they do. They weren’t good guys the way they portrayed themselves around you and you knew better. You were sure that in two years that their hands had just gotten filthier, leaving you not wanting anything to do with them but also knowing that you didn’t have a choice. When was anything ever your choice?

You couldn’t help but love the pair. It was bittersweet after how they had cared and looked after you for several years. Sometimes you wondered why you could love them more than you could love Kai, but they never did to you what Kai had done.

Jongdae bit his lip, “We shouldn’t get into this here.”

You glared at him, “Get into what, Jongdae? I don’t care anymore. Look at me,” you pointed to yourself. “This is just an empty shell. Do what you guys do, I never bothered you about it much before and now I really won’t. There is no soul left inside me to give a damn,” you lifted your hands in the air gesturing to the large ballroom. “Shit, look where we are.”

Minseok brushed his fingers across your jaw, “Don’t say that. You’re not a shell. I know you are still in there.”

You cringed away from his hand, “After what he put me through, it’s true. I hope you guys will learn one day and turn your lives around. Not for me but for yourselves. I know that I was never enough for anyone to turn themselves around.”

Definitely, Kai was glaring harshly at you, but you didn’t care.

“Y/N,” Minseok softly said.

“It’s your big day, we should be talking about happy things,” Jongdae said.

Minseok nodded. “Aren’t you going on a trip?”

You looked past them and stared out one of the many floor length windows the ballroom had. “Unfortunately.”

“Where?” Jongdae pressed.

“Cancun,” you still didn’t look back at them, though. The last thing you wanted to think about was the godforsaken honeymoon. It wouldn’t be like a typical married couples honeymoon, as you were certain you would be booking a separate room once you were there. You wouldn’t be consummating your marriage then or ever. You had no interest in Kai anymore, the love you had felt for Jongin was gone.

Minseok tried once again to touch you gently but this time you let him, his warm fingers grazing your shoulder. “You’ll love it. It’s beautiful, I’ve heard.” He said quietly, reluctantly taking his fingers from your skin.

When you looked back to Minseok, his eyes were filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite pin and you found yourself boring into his dark eyes with your own. Again, for the second time, you wished it was him you were arranged to marry because even if he was into shit you knew nothing about, he treated you better than Kai had treated you. He treated you like a piece of glass, touching you delicate and with fear of dropping you, whereas Kai dropped you whenever he could lay his gross hands on you.

“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Kim. Thank you for staying with us,” The employee at the desk said with a thick accent and a beautiful smile. He looked over your clothing, grinning wider at the ‘bride’ and ‘groom’ shirts that your mother had given to you.

You choked out a small scoff at the mention of your new surname as you felt the ‘bride’ shirt burning at your skin. You couldn’t wait to rip it off and get your own room. You couldn’t even imagine sharing a room with Kai for the next week. It would kill you, for sure.

Kai gripped his arm tighter around your waist at your scoff and you finally looked up at him for the first time in a long time. You hadn’t paid him any mind through the whole wedding and the events that followed up to him so it had been two years since you saw his face. He was just as handsome as he had been in the past. His striking jawline, large lips, and bright eyes. He was smiling but you knew it was fake, it was all a part of the show. You once loved Jongin’s face, but Kai’s even though it was the same, was not a face you could love anymore.

It was tempting to yank his hand off your wrist, runway, and drown yourself in the ocean, but you knew you couldn’t do that to your parents – although, if your sister was around, you don’t know if you could stop yourself. They would have her to fall back on so they wouldn’t need you… but maybe if she hadn’t died, she would be the one married to Kai, after all, she was his age which was two years older than you. She was the golden child, the one who could do no wrong and while you loved her, you knew your parents looked at her proudly more than you.

It made you wonder if maybe Kai wouldn’t have been a monster to her.

Kai didn’t release his hand as you walked to your room, clutching so tightly onto your suitcase that you thought you may break your fingers.

The both of you reached the large suite which was equipped with a living area, large bathroom, kitchen and bedroom with a king-sized bed. To your delight, in the living area, there was a more than large enough couch that you would make your bed.

As you unpacked, Kai broke the silence, “You can sleep in the bed. I’ll take the couch.” His voice was just the same as it had always been and it sent shivers through your body – and not the good kind.

You scoffed. “You don’t need to pretend to be a gentleman, I’m perfectly happy sleeping on the couch.” You shrugged and added, “At least until I get my own room, which I will do tomorrow or the soonest I can.”

Kai stopped unpacking and stared at you, “That’s not necessary. This room is big enough for the both of us.”

Trying not to roll your eyes, you left most of your stuff packed because you very well intended on getting another room. “There’s no reason for us to share a room,” you simply stated.

“We are newlyweds.” His voice held no emotion and it made you wonder why he even said those words in the first place.

“No need to worry, I’m not putting any meaning behind this marriage,” you were surprised that you could talk to him so well and evenly without breaking. You knew you weren’t that strong of a person but here you were, talking to the monster in your closet so-to-speak.

“I-“ Kai started but you cut him off.

You smiled bitterly and flicked your eyes in his direction, “You trained me over the past years to know my place. I’m sure you're aware of your place as well. As far as I’m concerned, this conversation isn’t even necessary.” You slammed your bag closed shut and pushed in under the couch where you would be staying temporarily.

There was nobody in particular you had to text since you didn’t really have friends, so you just scrolled through social media as Kai slowly unpacked around you, not saying anything to what you had said. You laughed to yourself as Kai knew your words were true. Your phone dinged and to your delight, it was a message from Minseok, giving you a smile you didn’t want to show.

‘How is it? Is it beautiful?’

You texted back quickly. ‘As beautiful as it can be.’

After a few minutes, and no text back from Minseok, you leaned against the couch, wondering how to spend your week here. Glancing over at the window and the bright early morning sun, you thought maybe you could find a shop that sold paint supplies or at least some drawing supplies and you could use creativity as your escape.

“Hey,” Kai stood in front of you, wearing all black and scratching the back of his neck, “I have some business to attend to. I assume you’ll be okay?” It was more of a statement than a question but you nodded in response anyway.

Dressed in all black the way Kai had been, you knew he was up to no good but you didn’t care. You were his wife on paper and no more than that.

“If you need anything-“You cut him off once again.

“I won’t,” you snapped.

He sighed and grabbed his cell phone, leaving the room with heavy feet.

With him gone, you grabbed your purse so you could go find some drawing supplies as you wondered who you killed in your past life to get stuck married to this monster.

--->three<---

masterlist

#exo #exo fanfic #exo au #exo angst #jongin angst #jongin au #jongin fanfic #kai angst #kai au #kai fanfic #minseok fanfic #minseok au #minseok angst

[beselten-pitch]

Mutually Assured Destruction

Alternate last year at Watford fic, written by the previous owner of simon-and-basilton

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / Chapter Ten / Chapter Eleven / Chapter Twelve / Chapter Thirteen / Chapter Fourteen / Chapter Fifteen / Chapter Sixteen / Chapter Seventeen / Chapter Eighteen / Chapter Nineteen/ Epilogue

Epilogue

SIMON

It had been months since the Battle of Watford, as they’d taken to calling it. It had been months, months that felt like hell and things worse than that.

Within the first month, the members of the Old Families that had been responsible for the attack had been tried by the Coven and thrown into a prison for mages while they awaited sentencing. The minors who’d been involved in the attack had been pardoned.

In the second month, the Coven turned to dismantling the Mage’s reign. Mitali Bunce, Penny’s mother, had become the new headmistress.

In the third month, Simon had wanted to die. Well. That had been true of the first months as well. But in the third month, Watford had finally been reopened for the spring term. The White Chapel’s smoldering remains had been rebuilt and the new teaching administration was in place.

Simon hadn’t gone back. They’d given him the opportunity to, of course—how could they not? He was the motherfucking Chosen One. (Because that had gotten him so far already.)

But he couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t be in that place. Never again.

Everyone else went back, though. Well—Agatha hadn’t. She’d disappeared sometime during the battle. Penny got texts from her every now and then, and she sounded happy in America. But everyone else had gone back to Watford. Everyone Simon had left.

They went back and it was quiet. He was quiet, at least. His mind was always too loud.

There were too many flashbacks, too many memories. Too many things missing.

Baz, stabbing himself.

Baz, bleeding.

Baz—

Simon couldn’t think about it. He couldn’t, and yet he couldn’t think about anything else.

The invisibility spell had dissipated along with Baz’s breaths. His chest had stilled, and Simon didn’t run. He couldn’t run. All he could do was wrap his arms around Baz’s cold chest and cry.

Fiona Pitch had ripped him off her nephew. Maybe, if he’d had his magic, he could’ve cast a healing spell strong enough to close the wound, repair the injuries.

Instead, he stood there, arms wrapped around himself, wanting to scream or run or do something. Anything. He couldn’t help, couldn’t save him, couldn’t stop the blood from pooling on the stone floor. All he could do was watch as Fiona poured magic over Baz All he could do was watch the wound slowly close, Baz’s eyes slowly open.

They healed him, but not completely. They couldn’t heal him completely.

Simon could’ve healed him completely, if things had gone differently. If he hadn’t been reduced to a useless, crying mess. If the Humdrum hadn’t drained him of everything.

 *

BAZ

Simon had never run from the Pitches. Because he was a damned fool, actually.

Whenever Baz called him that, though, he said, “At least I didn’t stab myself.”

Maybe it hadn’t been the best move. His father had called him melodramatic, his aunt had called him the biggest fucking idiot to have walked the earth. Simon had kissed him, right there in front of everyone. The bastard.

“You do understand that you could’ve died, don’t you?” his father had asked him the next morning. He was laying in his bed—his bed—in his room at Watford. They’d deemed him too weak to be moved back to the new Pitch house yet.

“That was, in fact, the point,” he’d replied, voice sour. It still hurt like a bitch. That was what you got for running yourself through with a sword, apparently.

He wasn’t entirely sure that he could’ve died, in all seriousness. But it was best not to say the word “vampire” around his father. Malcolm didn’t like to be reminded of his son’s shortcomings. Baz had once tried to avoid words like “gay” and “boyfriend” for the same reason.

“I hadn’t realized you were suicidal,” Malcolm had said.

“Not suicide, necessarily. It was a sacrifice. So Simon could get away.”

That was when his father had called him melodramatic. Which was true, but still.

Simon had been leaned awkwardly against the opposite wall throughout that conversation, looking as uncomfortable as you’d expect from someone who was standing in the same room as a man who had been trying to have him killed just 24 hours previous. A man who also happened to be the father of his half-dead vampire boyfriend.

That had been three months ago. Now, he’d recovered, mostly. Physically, at least. Vampires heal more quickly than other people do, so it hadn’t taken him long.

Mentally, he was a mess. But then, who wasn’t?

His family had agreed not to kill Simon, on account of the fact that he hadn’t intentionally destroyed their home, and because Baz was dating him. Simon losing his magic was a plus, because they considered him harmless.

Baz was pretty sure they’d considered disowning him when he told them that he intended to continue dating Simon, but he didn’t really give a fuck.

It was worth it. All of this, everything, it was worth it. Because it had ended here.

Here, with them together.

 *

SIMON

He hadn’t planned on coming here. Walking through the gates, seeing the rebuilt chapel, which had been nothing more than smoldering ruins last time he’d been on campus—it made his chest feel heavy, like he was still suffering the effects of smoke inhalation.

It’s been months. Five months. Get your shit together, Simon.

His common sense still had Penny’s voice.

The sky was royal blue, with the nighttime rolled out over the heavens like a canvas.  Stars dripped down around him, and he closed his eyes, tried to breathe.

Breathe, dammit.

So many memories. Baz, hating him. Kissing him. Loving him.

Before that, Agatha. Penny. So many people—he was wild with the thought of it, so many years soaked up into the soil of this place. The ground of the Watford School of Magicks was more holy and hallowed than that of any church he’d attended. Even the fancy churches with the spires and stained glass windows.

The music was filtering down and across the grass, making the night magical. Or maybe it was the magic that made it magical. Simon wouldn’t know, he couldn’t feel it anymore.

With a deep breath, he pushed his way through the doors and into the ballroom.

It wasn’t hard to spot Baz, looking casually elegant. He had his head bent close to Headmistress Bunce’s, and he was laughing politely. Simon had gotten to see his real laugh, the one where he threw his head back and sounded reckless, crazy—it was so much nicer than that carefully rehearsed chuckle.

He stopped halfway across the room and reconsidered. The phone calls, the emails, the meetings on weekends—he and Baz had been acting like boyfriends for months now, while he was in London and Baz was still finishing up the year at Watford. But actually being here, it took him back to a time before they shared secret kisses in their room. Back to the last ball they’d held in this room.

Back when the only thing he and Baz had shared was a room and a mutual hatred.

Standing there, he could almost go back. Back to a time with magic, with the Mage, and without Baz.

But that’s not real. That’s not real.

This is real.

He grabbed Baz’s shoulder, and he jumped. He turned. He smiled, took Simon’s hand.

This is real.

 *

BAZ

Simon was panicking in the ballroom, so they went outside. A few other couples had filtered out and onto the grass.

There were lightning bugs. It was beautiful, or maybe that was just the romantic in him speaking.

It made him think about the last time they’d stood on the Great Lawn and danced, after the Mage had confronted them.

So much has happened since then. So much, and yet.

And yet Simon still couldn’t dance worth a damn.

They swayed awkwardly across the grass, Simon with his head on Baz shoulder, Baz with his cheek pressed to Simon’s hair.

Beautiful.

Simon tried to lead, and Baz tried to lead, and they ended up conceding to move back and forth at random. That was how it was, anyways. Mutually assured destruction, because neither could win. All they did was lose.

Fuck that. We both win.

Of course they both won.

They both won when they moved to London, Baz sharing a flat with Fiona (“Try not to stab yourself today, huh?” “Shut the fuck up.”) and Simon with Penny.

They both won when a nosy waitress had glanced at Baz, Simon, and Penny sharing a table and said “So which one of you boys is the third wheel?” and Penny said, “Me, actually.”

They both won. And lost, sometimes, of course. That was the way it was.

But despite the losing—losing their temper, their minds, everything—Baz only had one thought in the mornings, when the sun poured liquid gold over bronze hair and blue eyes.

This is what happily ever after feels like.

#mutually assured destruction #fic

[ofviictories]

TRIGGER WARNINGS : mentions of animal death, blood, murder ( murderous intentions? ), physical attacks and …u kno. all that stuff.

glory & gore go hand in hand / that’s why we’re making headlines.

THE CANADIAN WILDERNESS : EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO.

she was eight when she got her first inkling at her destiny.

her father called it “the big picture”. he always threw in big words like destiny and fate,making the future that was framed in blood sound like it was something to ASPIRE to. maybe it was. the first time she’d heard it, hot on the trail of a grizzly - dad’s favorite - she thought as much. she had been dragging her feet, not caring very much for the hunt, wanting to be anywhere but there, and she still remembered the way his palm had felt against her back as he had shoved her forwards, pushing her to continue, even if she didn’t want to.

she still remembered the way he had shoved her into the clearing with a hungry, territorial juvenile bear, saying something about how she had to start SOMEWHERE if she wanted to be ready. she’d felt his watchful eyes on her, as she’d wrestled to take it down. felt his disappointment, when she took one clawed paw to the shoulder and fallen down. felt his mood change, just slightly, when she swung upwards with her own clawed bare feet and severed the jugular.

ready for what : drenched head to toe in red, vicki was less concerned about the corpse he had moved in to lift and swing across his shoulders, and more concerned about those words. ready. ready for something, something upcoming, something in a future that at eight years old and with victor creed as a father, she had never really contemplated. it had sounded IMPORTANT. like the death of one bear held more weight in her life than what she had previously realized.

he hadn’t answered for a long while. she was USED to that. they went days without speaking, she could go weeks without an answer - she had learned how to wait, and if anything, she was more surprised that it came so soon than she was that it had taken until they were nearing the log cabin she had once called home.

ready for death. ready for the future. his gaze had flickered to her, and she had stared up at him wide eyed, wondering if death meant HERS. maybe he’d noted the fear in her eyes. someday, you’ll bring ruin onto him, victoria.

on WHO?

the wolverine.

THE CANADIAN WILDERNESS : TEN YEARS AGO.

she wasn’t spending much time with her father, anymore - not as much as she had when she was younger, still developing, still learning. she liked to think that it was a simple case of him trusting her more, now. trusting her to be mature, to take care of herself, to be discreet enough that the nearby town wouldn’t know about her presence. that didn’t mean that what she liked to think was the truth, though.

she’d thought the same when he had up and abandoned her in tokyo three years before. she’d thought it was a case of trust, that he had reached a point where he didn’t worry for her, and that getting left for so long ( nine months - it’d been a record of abandonment ) was something positive. it HADN’T been, but where she excelled in some lessons, she fell behind in others.

he’d tried to sneak up on her, that night. TRIED AND FAILED. like i said - she excelled in some lessons, and he would have had to have tried much harder to succeed in startling her. with little more than a hello as he pushed his way into the cabin she had started to think of more as hers than his, victor shoved a wad of fabric into her hands as he passed, and knowing what that meant, she had breathed deep.

the smell had been husky and familiar, in a way that unfamiliar things sometimes were. she filed it away and then took a few more deep breaths for good measure, before she had asked what - who - it was.

sometimes, he passed off jobs to her. she thought of it as laziness on his part, but he insisted it was all a way of learning. she knew by now that she was learning to kill so that someday she could kill SOMEONE, specifically - but she didn’t see how downing person after person with a target practically painted upon their back would help her in the long run, when her target was the world’s most ferocious mutant.

speaking of :

the wolverine. his voice was gruff, the words FORCED. he didn’t like to speak about him. she’d learned not to push. when her father chose to reveal details of his hatred, she listened closely and drank in the information. otherwise, she paid mind to the way he said the little he did. it’s his. theirs.

that was the night that victoria learned that she was a weapon aimed at more than one mutant. the first she realized, there was more than one death in her future. much more.

remember that smell, victoria. you’ll need it.

COLD SPRING, NEW YORK : ONE MONTH AGO

she had never gotten close enough to someone tied to him, to know what the scent was like, FRESH. but her father had taught her well. she was a good hunter, and after a postcard had arrived with nothing more than a town name, vicki had known exactly what she was setting out to do.

she had been waiting her entire life to carry out this task. everything lesson with every inch of pain and bitter defeat and golden triumph had been so she could be the perfect tool through which to carry out revenge - she was older now, wiser, she knew exactly what her role was, and though on a level she knew it was her right to question it, she had spent so long waiting that it was almost a relief, to finally know what she was doing.

she met him at a bus stop.

it was raining, and he didn’t have an umbrella or the sense to stand beneath the shelter, so like the stink of a wet dog his ( what would otherwise have been dull ) familiar scent had been strong. she had bumped into him, “accidentally”, and before he could topple into a puddle she had steadied him carefully and laughed, full of apologies.

he was just a kid. a boy. clueless of who he was, really. he didn’t know what it meant to be wary of an overly soft smile and over friendliness. she had introduced herself and he had done the same and when the bus pulled up, would you look at that, they were going the same way. they talked about the lacrosse practice he was on his way to, and how it was probably cancelled, now, and he’d have to head right back home. he told her he lived locally when she asked and she told him that she was new in town, and needed as many recommendations for places to eat and things to do. he gave her his hobbies. he told her the diner he worked in had the best burgers in town.

he gave her every detail of his mediocre life in what was altogether half an hour, and he didn’t even realize how STUPID that was.

COLD SPRING, NEW YORK : LAST WEEK

star lacrosse player left in critical condition following attack. theo hanson of cold spring, new york, has been placed in a induced coma after an attack which occurred on july 23rd in the alleyway behind his place of work. the nineteen year old, a star sportsplayer for the local team described as “charismatic” and “open” by relatives and friends, is assumed to have been assaulted while on his lunch break, at work. coworkers became concerned for him when he didn’t return at the end of the hour, and following a brief search, found him out back and immediately called emergency services, who rushed him from the scene and to the nearest hospital. as the attack happened in the evening and in a place without security cameras, an appeal has been made by local authorities for any information relating to the event which can be provided by possible eyewitnesses. no more information is being released to the press about the teens condition at this time, but both the police and mr hanson’s relatives refuse to comment on the working theory put forward by classmates that mr hanson - a known mutant - was the subject of a hate crime against his kind.

PARAGON : NOW

the boy had been, in all regards, an easy target. she had realized that upon arrival to cold spring. he was isolated from the people he didn’t even know he was related to. he hadn’t been brought up in a home that taught him wariness of strangers - at least, over wariness of them. and he was a fresh faced sort of mutant. only just learning what it meant to be a teleporter, not at all well versed enough to be able get away.

and he didn’t heal. she hadn’t realized how many of the people she had been learning to hate and want dead from birth did, until she arrived at paragon. she had been allowed be hasty when it came to theo. she was able to get it done with, and by the time a week was up, she had ASSUMED that word would start spreading in all the right circles.

she had a destiny. it wasn’t a good one. but, finally, after twenty six years of being prepared - the endline was in sight.

#「 ･ﾟ × ･ * ― self para. 」 #haha i dunno what im writing

[homo-bois]

"Deja Vu-"

A Losers Fanfic 《Part 1》

Warnings: Use of Drugs, NSFW, Drama, Romance. Kink.

Pairings: Mainly ( Reddie, Stanbrough ) Slight: / Riverly, Billverly, Benverly /

Summary: Some of the seven losers are in their senior year of High School,

Bill is Nineteen,

Mike is Nineteen,

Stanley is Nineteen,

Eddie is Seventeen,

Richie is Eighteen,

Beverly is Eighteen,

Ben is Seventeen,

They all miraculously and unexpectedly find eachother again, unable to discover who eachother are at first before they meet all in one group and put two and two together that the dreams and deja vu episodes they all have been having have made them realize they were all Reincarnations of The Losers Club back in 1989.

Honestly, This is kind of like an Epilogue, if you dont want to read a repetitive "Deja Vu" experience. Oh and when they All meet eachother one by one.

Then just skip to Part 2! ♡

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Bill Denbrough:

1 P. M

It was January.1st.

New years day.

Me and my little brother went out to a movie, and we had fun, when we left the theatre, I accidentally bumped into a tall male, "Oh- Im so s-sorry, I wa-wasnt watching where I was going" the male turned around, he was about. 6'8, and he smiled down at me "Its alright man. Dont worry about it." His heritage was african american by it seems. And he was with a group of friends "Hey, I-I'll help you clean this up." I spoke as I told my little brother to go to the vehicle before me. I gave him the keys and I helped the other male clean up the mess "Hey man, Do I know you?" He spoke while throwing away garbage as we had a small conversation "Heh, I d-d-dont think so." I shrugged as he narrowed his eyebrows "I could swear I met someone like you before." He sipped his drink as I fiddled and smiled "M-My name is B-B-Bill." I paused before continuing with a smile, "Bill Denbrough." And he widened his eyes, before giving a bright smile "I could swear I heard that name before too. Were you at a festival few years back?" "Hmm. I dont think so. I dont go to f-festivals." I gently scratched the back of my head before he introduced himself this time "Well, Im Mike." He held out his hand for me to shake as I gladly took the offer "Mike Hanlon." And a sudden burst of Deja Vu came to my mind. "Mike?" I gave a confused stare but brushed it off "Nice to m-me-meet you." We shook hands and he glanced back at his friends who were calling him over, "Hey you seem like a pretty chill guy. We should hang sometime." He nudged my shoulder as we exchanged phone numbers "I'll text ya after the movie." "Haha, al-right man, I'll chat w-with ya later then." I saluted him and walked away to catch up with my brother as I kept glancing back at him ~He looks so fucking familiar.~ I got in my vehicle and drove us back home.

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Stanley Uris:

1 : 3 0 P. M

Trapped in a Jewish temple is not fun. Especially, on new years day. I sighed heavily and finished reading from the Torah as I groaned and flopped on my bed. "Stanley!" I heard my father call as I groaned loudly and went downstairs "I need you to run to the convinence store. We need some more milk and bread." He sighed heavily and continued "And get some more Wine." He gave me the money as I headed off, bundling up in a thick patterned scarf, baggy jeans and some thick working boots. I headed out and when I arrived at the store, I seen a boy, about the same age as me, but shorter. He looked younger, Im nineteen years old. And I sighed when this boy took forever trying to pick out a pack of medicine. He was very specific. And I rolled my eyes and placed my stuff on the counter, Gazing around the antibiotics and chose his best option. I placed it in front of him as he flinched and looked at me in confusion, "Its your best option. I know what you are talking about" I spoke softly as the clerk rolled his eyes and tried to get the money from the boy "Are you sure?" He raised an eyebrow and I nodded slowly. He sighed heavily and payed for the antibiotic as he huffed in frustration and walked away, I payed for my stuff and I noticed and inhaler that was unattended, I sighed and picked it up, that boy mustve left it here. I read the name on the label "Eddie...Kaspbrak...?" That name sounded extremely familiar, I grabbed my things and decided to run after the boy, looking around to where he was as I placed my groceries in my car as I locked the doors and ran after the boy, I tapped his shoulder and he spun around immediately "Jesus!" He held onto his chest and breathed heavily "Are you a robber? I spent all my money on the medicine-" "What? No. I just came to return this to you." I sighed and handed him his inhaler "Oh..Ah. Thank you" he took it and turned around to run but I held him back "Hey, You look familiar. Do I know you?" "what?" He halted "No. I dont think so at least." He took a good look at me, staring at my hair "On second thought." He faced me and blew into his hands "You look familiar as well." He narrowed his eyes "Whats your name?" He asked with a smile as I fixed my toque and smiled back "Stanley. Stanley Uris." I held my hand out and he took it "Eddie Kaspbrak." He introduced himself as we both shared a small giggle, and I offered him a ride back to his house, him being unsure because I am just a stranger whos offering. I chuckled "Dont worry. Im not some murderer." He laughed at that, and we drove off.

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Richie Tozier:

2 : 4 5 P. M

New years day, And I was at the bar with my buds, I chugged as much alcohol as I can bear.

Making a scene as some fucking old dude tried to fight me. My friends held me back and I sighed heavily, spotting a beautiful ginger across the bar counter as I smirked and pushed my glasses up, standing up to walk over to her as I sat right beside her "Bad idea champ." Her only words to me as I flipped my hair and chuckled "Why is that beautiful?" I flirted as she glanced at me and then turned away, "My man is tryna start shit with me. Hes a mean drunk." She chuckled as I stared at her "Well. Im hilarious when Im drunk." I laughed as she joined "I dont doubt you." She looked at me fully and took a sip from her drink, her hair was long, and it looked so beautiful. I gently raised my hand to grasp onto one of her hair locks, and I smiled at her and held my hand out to shake hers "Richie Tozier." I giggled, she looked at me up and down, examining me, Me in my muscle shirt, a flannel long-sleeve wrapped around my waist, dog tag necklace, torn up black jeans as I smirked at her "Checking me out I see?~" I giggled and she nodded with a smirk, I didnt expect that kind of reaction. She scooted closer to me and spoke "Im Beverly Marsh." I flinched, where have I heard that name before? I shrugged it off and scooted closer to her, "Hey you wanna say, fuck your man and lets get outta here?" I winked at her and she giggled, winking back seductively "Love to darling~" she flirted as we shared a good laugh. Suddenly I felt a pull on my shoulder, The girl frowned and gave a frightened stare. I was turned around and pushed back, "Yo, what the fuck man?" I fixed my glasses as the girl tried stepping in "Henry, wait, he didnt do anything." Her boyfriend pushed me again, I laughed "Bev. Its fine." I winked at her as the man raised his fist, ready to land a hit on me as I raised mine first, hitting him in the jaw, he stumbled back and I stretched my shoulders back, putting my fists in the air, ready to fight. And we fought.

There were alot of gasps and screams, he would punch me, and I would punch back, I would dodge some hits. He would dodge mine. Back and forth until, I grabbed him by the shirt and threw him against a table, getting on top as I pinned his wrists down with my knees, I punched him repeatedly in the jaw, until he grew unconscious, I got off and looked around "Wow. What a day." I laughed and spat out some blood, the ginger ran up to me and wiped my face with a napkin "Come on. Lets go to your place." She smiled as I nodded and guided her. There was something familiar about that man too. When we were in my old truck. We went back to my place and had a little humorous fun, exchanging numbers for later, maybe we can hangout more? I chuckled at that thought. Bev seems cool.

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Ben Hanscom:

2 : 5 4 P. M

New years day and Im sitting in a Library gathering poetry books for the day.

What a happy day.

When I exited the library. I was walking down back to my place, then a bike came rushing down the street "Georgie!! Look out!" I heard a voice yell out as I gasped and jumped back in time before the bike collided with my bag, my books falling all over the cement sidewalk as I panicked "No, no no no!" I scurried to pick them up as the other two males did as well, "Im sorry sir, I wasnt watching where I was going." The little one shyly smiled as I gathered all of my books and placed them back in the bag "Thats okay Bud." I looked at the older male and raised a brow "your little brother?" I smiled at the older male as he helped me stack the books nicely and helped me up "Yeah. H-hes a t-roublemaker." He stuck his tongue out as I giggled a little, "Arent we all?" I sighed and lifted the heavy bag "Hey. Do you need help with those?" He smiled at me and I thought about it for a bit and soon gave in to the need. "Yeah..my mom made me get so many books. I just live up the street here." And the older male's face lit up and he helped grab some books and we had a conversation, "Im Bill." He smiled at me and I replied "Ben. Ben Hanscom." I smiled back as I couldnt shake the feeling of that name, it sounded familiar. "Georgie watch for the ice!" They both were wearing flannel. And this Bill guy was huddled in warm black and red clothing. I giggled and noticed myself, covered in a hoodie and a fur hooded jacket. Some really thick sweatpants and worker boots. When we arrived at my place we put the books down on the front deck and I held my hand out to shake his "Nice to meet you Bill. Thanks for the help." I smiled brightly as he giggled and shook my hand "Anytime Ben. It was nice to meet you as well." He began to turn around as I suddenly felt weird, like I knew this scenario before.. "Hey Bill. Wanna hangout sometime? Get to know eachother? I dont have many friends since I moved here a year ago." I frowned as he gladly turned to face me and gave me his phone number "Sure thing pal. I dont bite." He waved at me and I waved back "Bill. Bill. Bill. Bill." I repeated "Where have I heard that name?" I placed him in my contact list. I needed to know his last name. I sighed heavily and went to my room. Thinking hard about this whole thing.

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Mike Hanlon:

3 P. M

After the movie I had left with my friends, dropping them off as I went for a ride, stopping beside a liquor store as I got out and went inside.

I spotted this male, around 6'2, not that much shorter than me. Curly brown hair. And he was buying a lot of wine "Hey. Do you need help carrying those out?" I offered as he smiled softly and gave a sad smile "Sure." And I helped him "Party?" I smirked as he chuckled "Sort of. If Family counts." "Ooo. Im sorry about that man." I nudged his shoulder and smiled brightly "Hey. I might get some friends gathered later for a nightly party. I got my own fireworks and farm house. We can all go and set them off later. Drinks and all sorts of fun stuff." And he held a blank expression for a while before nodding along with "I could see why not?" He laughed "Im Stanley." He held his hand out and I gladly took it in mine "Mike Hanlon." I nodded as we exchanged numbers and went on our own ways, Im gonna have to get friends to gather friends if its gonna be a party. Better send them the address. I chuckled and went on my way as I got the alcohol for the boot and I went into deep thought while driving "Stanley huh?" I bit my lip and couldnt shake the feeling I seen him before. Ive been recognizing alot of people today. I sighed heavily and brushed it off as nothing. I hope.

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Eddie Kaspbrak:

3 : 2 7 P. M

This day had only started a few hours ago and I already am a huge panicky mess.

My mom had sent me back out to pick up a perscription for her.

I walked into the pharmacy and seen a man that was taking his time picking out some meds or something.

I sighed heavily and rolled my eyes "Excuse me." I huffed out with an agitated tone as he stood up straight and looked at me. He stared at me up and down and faced me, I gulped back a glob of saliva as I felt my nerves rush.

He fixed his glasses as he stared me down and I immediately felt uncomfortable "Hi!" He blurted out as I flinched "You seem dorky enough. Can you help me pick the perfect meds for my lil sis?" He asked. More like, demanded. I glared at him and shook my head "Dude, Im not a worker." "Oh. I thought you were." He stuck his tongue out as I rolled my eyes again and tried to walk past him, he raised his arm and pinned it to the shelf next to me, blocking my path, "Can you help me though?" He asked innocently as I halted..taking in the others scent, he smelt like cigarettes. I raised my hand and covered my nose and sighed heavily, growling out

"I dont like talking to strangers." "Oh pal, I aint no stranger. Im known far and wide in this city-" "Nope." I cut him off as I spoke blankly "Never heard of you." "I havent even said my name!" He interrupted as I groaned and just decided to help him pick out the best option for him.

He smiled brightly and held his hand out to me, I shuddered in disgust, god knows where that hand has been in the likes of this guy. Hes probably a hobo, or some fuckboy. Maybe a player? Jock? Bad boy? You get the point. I stepped back a little and he spoke with a bright smile "Im Richie." I slowly pulled down my sweater sleeve and covered my hand in it, as I took his hand and shook it, he gave me a confused stare as I introduced myself too "Eddie." Ugh I really wanted to just pick my moms percription up and get out of here. I dont have time for-

My thoughts were cut short by a force pulling me towards the older male, he pinned me to the shelf behind him as he lifted my chin and leaned very close to my face, WAY BEYOND MY COMFORT ZONE.

I gasped and was forced to gaze into the hazel iris' in front of me. Now that hes extremely close. He had freckles splattered all over his face. His glasses made his eyes bulge out a little. And his hair was wavy, almost curly, and a nice shade of black as well. It looked soft. His hand that was gripping onto my chin was long and slender. And cigarettes werent the only thing he smelt like, the scent of cologne rose off him as well and- Wait- why am I pointing these things out?

I regained my composure as he leaned in closer as I stomped on his foot and yelled at him "Dont molest me! You-" I paused and blushed, the way he looked at me. Dominantly. And he was smirking. "Pervert!" I finished as I stormed away and got my moms perscription. Rushing out of the store as I sighed heavily and was relieved that I wasnt in a situation like that again, Until a car pulled up right next to me as the window rolled down "Heya sir!" I recognized that voice, I growled as glared, "What do you want?" I snapped as he backed up a little "Tiger. I only wanna know if you'd wanna ride to wherever you're off to?" He paused and before I was able to decline the offer, he spoke again. "The weathers gonna get real bad soon. So I want you to be alright and not freeze to death." K but I have to admit..it was getting colder. And I shouldnt've gone back out without my moms vehicle. This is the second time I had gotten a ride somewhere today..But I could complain, because I only have my learners. Ugh. I halted and so did his car. I pouted and snarled "Im only doing this for my own good. I do NOT. Like jerks like you." I hopped into his car as he smirked and looked back at the road "Ouch. A thank you would do just fine-" "Thanks." I replied cockily as he sighed and drove off, I gave him my address, and we arrived. He grabbed my shoulder before I left "Have I met you before?" He stared at me closely and I felt my face flush "Doubt it." I yanked my shoulder away as he smirked and drove off. When I went inside I placed my moms perscription on the kitchen table and retreated to my room, taking off my hoodie as I glanced at a piece of paper that fell out.

Picking it up and reading it as it said:

--Text Me Love~

587 ••• •••• --

I growled and threw the paper in my trash and went to take a nap immediately. Trying to get that handsome yet fucking stupid face out of my mind.

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Beverly Marsh:

4 : 1 0 P. m

I got alot of alcohol preparing for the new years day party held at my friend Ashley's place.

I texted the boy Richie about it and he replied with

--Fuck yeah I'll come, if your gorgeous ass will be there~ See ya later--

He really knows how to be a jackass yet make a girl swoon. I giggled and packed my vehicle with alcohol, Driving over to her place immediately to set the party up.

When I arrived and got things set up. It was rolling onto 5.

I sighed heavily and heard the doorbell ring, I went to open it. "Hey this Is where the New years Party is right?" A tall african american male stood before me as I smiled and brushed a lock of hair behind my ear, "Ah yes. Come on in." "Thanks, Im part of the Boot." I laughed and we set the alcohol on the kitchen table "Im Mike." He held his hand out to me and I gently took it in mine, shaking it lightly "Im Beverly. Beverly Marsh." I couldve sworn he felt familiar. And looked familiar as well. I sighed lightly and we got the alcohol ready. Soon enough my friend Richie came up behind me and grabbed me by my waist, lifting me in the air "Kyah!" I cried out and soon laughed "Richie! Put me down!" He obeyed and giggled a little "You're only going to be a trouble maker I bet!" I stuck my tongue out and layed eyes on this hot specimen that entered the house. I stared at him and Richie turned around to see who I was staring at. A man...dark brown hair. Undercut. Red and black flannel shirt wrapped around his waist, his t-shirt was a shade of grey, and he was wearing a zip up black sweater. Topped it off with red jeans. He glanced around with his friend he was with "Bill you sure this is the place?" The other male asked shyly as he spotted me, both of them did. And I smiled at the older male, the african american male walked up to the Brunette "Bill! My man!" They laughed "Mike?" They shook hands and smiled "Bro thanks for i-inviting m-m-me. I h-hope you dont mind but I brought a friend. His n-names Ben." He smiled softly as I blushed "Richie...whos that..?" "I dunno." Richie shrugged as Mike shook the other boys hand "Mike Hanlon." He introduced himself as I turned around and got a drink ready and took a sip. When I turned back around all three of them were just a few feet away from me. "Fuck-" I cussed, startled. I let out a laugh as Richie joined "How Jumpy Babe~" he whispered huskily as I giggled and brushed him off, "Hi." The younger yet taller brunette spoke as I smiled at him and shook his hand "Im Ben." He smiled at me with a dazed look and I gently held my hand out to the other male "Im Beverly Marsh." I introduced myself to the other male. The darker brunette, He took my hand gladly and smiled back at me "B-Bill Denbrough." And I felt a rush of an electric shock flow through me. I heard that name before. And not only that. I felt it.

Deep down. I felt it. I knew who he was. And it seemed Ben did as well cause he stared at Bill in shock "Denbrough?" Richie spoke "Oh ya, dont think Ive introduced myself either." He winked and smirked "Im Richie." He paused and Ben took his hand, then Mike, then Bill. "Tozier." He finished as They stared at Richie with shock this time, "I could swear I know you." Bill spoke up as Richie stuck out his finger guns "I dont think so Boss Man." He laughed but halted, we all did. "Boss man.." Richie whispered "Why did I call you that?" He asked curiously as we all shrugged "Hey look-"

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Leaves this off with a cheesy and cringey cliffhanger but eh Im lazy to change it...

#stanley uris #beverly marsh #beep beep richie #richie tozier #mike hanlon #bill denbrough #itmovieofficial #loser club

[vi-sability]

Against the Flow: Chapter 1

The residents of Redwood village scurried around their homes, banners and flags of various shades of green gently moving in the soft wind that filtered through the trees. The majority of people that lived in the small, but well-known village were the native elves, proud that one of their own had turned sixteen, ready to be shown their path in life.

The village stood next to a temple, for the Elves’ patron Goddess Aurora. When each Elf turned 16, they went through a ritual where she showed them what they were to become in life. Each race had their own God or Goddess, and their own temple in each region of the land.

The tavern was the centerpiece of the rural town, the only Dwarf for miles drinking everybody under the table as usual. As he did, the barmaids, between brining pints to their customers, were also hanging banners above the door and windows. 

A few of the town’s children were running around, some getting under peoples feet, others making flower crowns together, or inventing a game where you throw a ball over the tallest tree branches that they could find. The village only held around one hundred people, despite being the most well-known in the Elves’ region of the land. The reason for that was the Redwood family, the people whom the village was named after. For over 5 generations, the large family of Elves were all Monks, the majority going into the sub-class of Martial Artists, the rest becoming Priests or Priestesses.

The Redwood family’s mansion stood at the edge of the town, the single floor house still barely able to hold the large family. In the Elves’ culture, all of the women in a family line shared a last name, whilst all of the males shared a different one. Because of this, the Redwood family was a matriarchy. The oldest member of the family was Ayra Redwood, still in her pride despite just passing sixty summers. She had birthed three boys and one girl in her lifetime, her sons spread out over the country with their own families. Her daughter, Renna, had three boys and two girls herself. The boys were Tarron, twenty-one, Ruvar, eighteen, and Fenian, eighteen. Her boys, and her nineteen year old daughter, Ayda, had all become monks.

“Renna, do you know where she is?” The last member of the house, Renna’s husband Akkor, was one of the country’s best rangers. Both he and Renna were thirty-one, refusing to let their wrinkles define how young they felt.

“Where who is?” Renna asked, turning from where she was drying a white robe.

“Teyame. You know, the most important person in the village today?” Their final child was sixteen year old Teyame. Like all the other members of her family, she had trained and dreamt of becoming a Monk since she could walk. Rekka chuckled and turned around to face her husband.

“You’re the ranger, why don’t you track her down?” Akkor puffed his cheek out, his pointed ears drooping slightly. The both of them “Is she in her room?”

“Already checked.”

“Then go look in the yard.” Renna and Akkor both had emerald green eyes, which was rare for Elves. Renna had passed her blonde hair onto four of her children, their youngest gaining Akkor’s black hair. The two of them had faint wrinkles across their faces, but it didn’t bother them. As Renna turned back to drying the white robe, Akkor kissed her on the cheek, and then moved through the house, heading for the large yard.

“One! Two!” Akkor chuckled before he opened the door. Four of his five children were stood in a line, facing away from him, all stood in powerful stances. In front of them, Renna’s mother, Arya, was leading them in different exercises. “One! Two!” All of them were throwing strong punches, not moving any muscles other than their arms.

“The training never stops, does it?” Two of them flinched in fear, relaxing and smiling as they turned around.

“Why would we stop training, Father?” Tarron asked, putting his fists together and bowing. “We all wish to be the strongest we can be.”

“The way that your twins slack, they have a long way to go.” Arya huffed, putting her hands on Ruvar and Fenian’s heads.

“That’s not our fault!” Fenian whined.

“We’re trying our best! We’re still young!” Ruvar said, stepping away.

“Try harder! Teyame is doing better than the both of you, and she hasn’t even become a Monk yet!” Akkor rolled his eyes.

“Speaking of Teyame, do any of you know where she is?” All five of them looked between each other. “Why does nobody know where she is?” Akkor sighed, rubbing his face with both hands. “Her meeting with the Goddess will be happening soon!”

“Think about this, Akkor.” Arya walked forward and patted his shoulder. “Where would your daughter go at a time like this?”

“Where would Teyame be when she’s coming of age?” His other daughter, Ayda, turned and walked into the tree line behind the house unnoticed. “I imagined that she would be either training with you or sitting with her mother.” He rubbed the thick stubble on his chin. “Teyame has been waiting for this day since she could walk.”

“Such a Ranger, he doesn’t know where one of his own children is.” Ayra turned her head to Tarron, making him laugh. Since Ayda had slipped away, she has walked through the path that had been trodden down by many pairs of feet before hers.

“Tey?” She called softly, wary of possible vicious animals. “I know you’re here somewhere.” Only a trained eye could see the glimpse of black hair that vanished behind one of the larger trees. Ayda smiled and started walking silently towards it, careful to not stand on any of the potential crunchy leaves that littered the forest floor. “Teyame, I know that you’re here.” A few more careful steps and the Monk looked around the tree, smiling at the sight of her younger sister.

“Did Mother and father send you to find me?” Teyame asked, not looking up. The young elf was sat with her knees pulled to her chest, chin resting on them, and her arms covering the lower half of her face. Unlike her family, who all dressed in loose-fitting sleeveless robes to help with their training, the youngest Redwood wore human style clothes. Renna always picked at the hoodies, jean pants, and what they called ‘skate shoes’, but never stopped Teyame from wearing whatever she wanted.

“Father is looking for you, yes.” Ayda, sensing the worry in Teyame’s voice, sat down next to her sister. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you think that Goddess Aurora won’t approve of me?”

“What makes you think that?” Ayda laughed, rubbing her sister’s back. “Why would she disapprove of you?”

“Because I don’t dress like you all do.”

“She won’t dislike you because of what you wear.” Ayda pulled on the hood of Teyame’s jacket. “Clothes are meaningless when it comes to who you are.”

“Mother always picks at what I wear.” Teyame finally looked at her sister.

“Well, our Mother and our Goddess are not the same person, and you won’t be wearing that when you meet her.” Ayda smiled. “Speaking of which, that is going to be soon. We should head back home.” She stood up and offered her hand. With one final sigh, Teyame accepted, letting herself get pulled to her feet.

“I know what path will be chosen for me, but I’m still nervous.” The younger sibling admitted as they started to walk.

“Everybody was nervous when they went through their ceremonies.” Ayda said. “Fenian and Ruvar told me that the Goddess was amused when they both talked to her.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re twins. I don’t think that Aurora sees many Twins.” In the short walk back to their home, Ayda tried to make Teyame less nervous, which didn’t really work.

“There you are!” Renna jogged out of the house at their approach. She cupped Teyame’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead. “I was starting to get worried.”

“Is the ceremony starting soon?” Teyame asked.

“Of course! The sun is almost over the temple!” Renna didn’t notice the nervousness in Teyame’s voice. “You need to change into the robes!” As she was pulled away, Teyame sighed again, which worried Ayda.

For someone who has wanted this day to come for years, Tey doesn’t seem too happy. She thought, before deciding to find Akkor and tell him that her sister was home. Inside, Renna had taken Teyame to her room and helped her undress.

“I’m proud of you.” Renna smiled, unconsciously hugging the hoodie to her chest. “My youngest child is almost fully grown.” Another thing that bothered Renna was how Teyame decorated her room. Unlike her other children, she didn’t seem to be content with only one culture. Many traders passed through Redwood village, bringing items from other regions of the land. Teyame decorated her walls of known Monks of other parts of the world, the most common being what was known as a coloured bear called Kyung-Jae.

“Must I wear the robe?” Teyame grumbled, pulling it over her head when she removed all of her clothes other than her underwear.

“You must.” Renna tapped her nose. “It’s tradition.”

“It’s also uncomfortable.” Instead of answering, Teyame’s mother took her hand and pulled her out of the room. Outside, Akkor got up from the chair that he was sat on, pride filling his eyes.

“Are you ready?” he asked, cupping Teyame’s face the same way Renna did.

“I am.” Like all of her siblings before her, Teyame’s parents flanked her as they left the house, the teenager wondering where the rest of her family was. There wasn’t much time to dwell on it, though. Akkor opened the front door to their house, revealing all of the village’s residents, who cheered as soon as the three of them came into view. All Teyame wanted to do as run, which was impossible with both her parents by her sides.

I have a really bad feeling about this. Was the thought that crossed her mind as they moved forward, walking her through the crowd. Teyame was surprised by how much the town changed when a child was about to go through their audience with Goddess Aurora. Colourful banners hung between many of the trees and houses, a large number of tables were spread across the main square, where the stores, warehouse and Inn were circled around, and a large feat had been prepared by many of the townsfolk.

It showed favouritism, but every person living in the town, Elven or not, was always excited for a Redwood to go through their audience ceremony. The fact that Teyame was the last Redwood to go through it for the foreseeable future made them even more excited. Teyame was terrified. She had a gut feeling that something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t say anything. She knew that if she tried, her parents would brush her off and tell her that it was nothing. At the door of the temple, Aurora’s last priest stood, both hands on the cane in front of him.

“Teyame!” He barked, shocking the crowd. “Step forward!” Swallowing her nerves, the elf walked over to him and bowed at the base of the short staircase. “Are you prepared to meet with your Goddess?”

“I-I am.” The Priest struck his cane on the floor once, and Teyame pushed herself up, walking up the stairs. The crowd cheered again, making her flinch and almost lose her footing. The Priest caught her elbow and pulled her up next to him, giving her a rare smile. As they walked into the temple, the crowd’s cheers slowly started to quiet, until it was silenced completely, leaving the two Elves in silence, save for the Priest’s cane clicking on the floor.

“It gets quite lonely in this Temple. Maybe you can become a Priestess, Teyame.” She almost tripped over her own feet in surprise.

“That sounds… very creepy, if you don’t mind me saying.” He chuckled and patted her arm.

“My apologies, I did not intend that. I just won’t live for much longer, and this temple needs a keeper.” The temple walls were a pristine white, the pillars carved in the image of Aurora, and the floor tiled in a pattern of white and silver.

“You could always ask my brothers.” Teyame suggested. “Grandmother is always telling Ruvar and Fenian that they’re not good martial artists.”

“Becoming a priest is a personal choice, Teyame.” The two of them stopped in front of a large, knee-deep pool of water, dominated by what was known as a ‘fake sun’ on a pedestal, projecting a pillar of light through the hole in the tall ceiling. “But what the Goddess shows as your path is not your choice.” Placing his cane down, the Priest gripped Teyame’s elbow and led her into the warm water. “Remember, be respectful to Aurora.”

“Of course. I don’t want to be involved in an ‘accident’.” She said, with added air quotes. The Priest chuckled, and lifted Teyame’s chin, forcing her to look into the fake sun.

“Goddess! Please look upon this young Elf and show her your guidance!” She flinched again as the fake sun started to shimmer, and another beam of light projected off of it, enveloping Teyame. She panicked for a few seconds as her vision was clouded by darkness, only relaxing when it cleared, and she appeared to be standing among the clouds in the sky.

“My, my. Another Redwood.” Teyame turned around, her breath catching in her throat. “How many more of your family am I to see?”

“I-I’m currently the youngest, Goddess.” The way that Aurora chose how people saw her almost always took their breath away. She took on the form of a young adult, her long blonde hair falling both around her face and down her back, only separated by her pointed ears. Her vibrant blue eyes were gentle, accentuated by her soft smile.

“You don’t look like your siblings, do you?” Aurora placed a gentle hand on her cheek. “I have seen many members of your family, female or not.”

“I have high expectations placed on me.” Teyame chuckled nervously, scratching her dark hair. “My grandmother already tells me that I perform better than my twin brothers, and I’m not even a Monk yet.” Aurora smiled, closed her eyes, and then opened them with a confused look on her face.

“Well, it only takes one person to break tradition.” Teyame looked up at her, confusion on her face. “My child, you are not a Monk.” Emotions and confusion both ran through Teyame’s mind, and her knees buckled. “Alright, alright.” Aurora gripped her shoulders and helped her sit on the clouds. “Are you okay?”

“How-how am I not a Monk?” Teyame asked, her hands shaking. “I’m-I’m a Redwood!” The Goddess knelt in front of her and cupped her cheeks in an attempt to calm her down.

“I know the path laid out for you, Teyame. I cannot see you being a Monk.” Aurora helped her to her feet and smiled again. “I know what you are, and you are one of the few people that have ever been told this.” Teyame swallowed and nodded, waiting. “You are destined to be a Cleric.”  

“A C-Cleric?” Teyame almost fainted, only kept conscious because she was not physically there. “You mean the people that get killed?”

“That is not something that I can control.”

“I know, Goddess. I just- I’m a Redwood!” Teyame stepped away, rubbing her face. “I’ve been waiting to become a full Monk for years!”

“Teyame, look at me.” Aurora walked over to her again, cupping her face and looking into her eyes. “Only special people have the path of the Cleric laid out before them. You are one of them.” The worry in Teyame’s eyes didn’t faze her. “You are a Cleric, but your destiny is yours and yours only. You choose your own path.” Aurora smiled and kissed her forehead.

Teyame gasped sharply and opened her eyes again. In a short panic, she looked around herself, relaxing when she recognized the Temple walls. Confusion crossed here mind when she didn’t see the Temple’s Priest sitting on the white marble stairs. She grimaced as she got up, as the crystal clear water had soaked most of her robes. Before stepping out of the pool, she wrung some of the water out before looking at her hands.

I don’t feel any different… Am I really a Cleric?

“Teyame!” She flinched and looked to her parents, who were running down the hall towards her. “You’re okay!” Her Mother pulled her into a tight hug, shortly followed by her father.

“Priest Arl told us that you were out of your body for quite a lot longer than others.” The Priest was struggling to catch up, his cane clicking on the marble. “Are you alright?” Akkor asked, lifting his daughter’s chin.

“What did the Goddess say?” Renna asked this time. Teyame paused, thinking about what happened.

“I’m…” She swallowed and smiled. “I’m a Monk.” Akkor laughed heartily and picked Teyame up into a hug, and Renna clapped a few times, waiting for her chance to hug their youngest child. Within minutes, she was pulled out of the temple, and into the village, where the residents started to celebrate and congratulate her. After around two hours, her guilt overtook her mind, and Teyame managed to sneak away from the celebrations.

Back in the Redwood’s mansion, she pulled the annoying robe off, draped it over a chair, and started walking towards her room for some more clothes. As Teyame fastened a pair of baggy jeans, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. For being 16 summers old, she was well-built in terms of musculature, thanks to the many training sessions she had gone through. Her skin was fair, and breasts as average as her height. Teyame’s eyes trailed to the scar on her stomach; an accident from training with multiple weapons a few weeks prior.

She raised her hands and held them over the scar, trying to focus her energy into it. It took a couple of attempts, and the third shocked her. Green energy covered her skin, and when she moved her hands away, the scar was completely gone. Teyame’s green eyes shimmered as she looked at her hands, the wonder quickly replaced by fury.

“I’m a Monk, damn it!” She yelled, dropping to her well-practiced defensive stance, her hands balled into fists next to her chest. “I’m a Redwood!” Teyame threw her first out, smashing the mirror. Her fury didn’t subside, and she stormed out of her room, crossing to the house’s bathroom. As she looked at her reflection again, and then at her bleeding hand, she sighed and turned the water on, winching as it washed over her new wounds.

I’m not who I thought… Was what crossed her mind. Then, she noticed her dad’s electric razor on the side of the sink. Teyame didn’t give it a second thought. She picked it up, turned it on, and started to run it over her head.

“What is that?” Tarron, the oldest child, asked as he walked into the house. “Teyame?” He ran a hair through the messy crop of blonde hair on his head, following the sound until he opened the bathroom door and cursed in surprise. “Tey, what are you doing?!” She almost dropped the razor as she turned around, shock across her face.

“I, uh, just wanted a new look?” Brother and sister stared at each other for a few beats of silence. Tarron sighed to break the silence and took the razor from her hand.

“You’ve made a mess of your hair.” He sighed. Teyame’s smile went unnoticed as he continued to shave her head, half of it landing on the floor before he turned it off. “Now you look like a vagrant.” Tarron chuckled as his sister checked herself out in the mirror.

“Good.” The side of Teyame’s head started to itch like crazy, much to her brother’s amusement. More thoughts crossed her mind, most of them wondering about what would happen to her if people knew about her new powers.

“Come on, we should get back to the celebrations.” Tarron pulled her out of the bathroom. “But before we leave, you should put on a shirt.”

“Probably.” He half-followed Teyame to her room, before clapping his hands together, making her flinch.

“That reminds me! I have something for you!” Teyame’s curiosity was not as strong-willed as other people’s, so she just shrugged, walking into her room, and pulled a hoodie over her head. “I knew you never liked being the shortest,” Tarron started as he walked into her room. “So I made these for you when you became a full Monk.” He handed her a box and pulled the lid off. Inside was a pair of wooden sandals, with two blocks attached to the sole.

“Geta sandals, Tarron?” He smiled as she took them of the box and inspected the finish. “They’re impressive, but did you have to make them out of red wood?” He chuckled.

“It’s in your name, Tey.” She smiled along and placed them on the floor, accepting his hand as she stepped into them and tested the fit.

“Thank you, Tarron.”

“Come on, we better get back outside.” He took Teyame’s hand and started to lead her –carefully- outside.

“Goodness, Teyame!” Akkor jogged over to them and ran a hand over the shaved side of her head. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I just… didn’t feel like I used to.” She forced a smile. “Anyway, it’s just hair.”

“That’s true, but…” before he could finish speaking, Renna walked over, and Tarron took that as his cue to leave.

“You’re always the rebel, Teyame.” She smiled. “I see that Tarron gave you his gift.” Akkor was still trying to find his words, rubbing his hands over his stubbly chin and through his wild mane of black hair. “Come on.” Renna took both of their hands and led them back to the celebrations, and sat Teyame at the head of the family table.

“What was wrong with the robe?” Arya, the matriarch Redwood asked, after deciding to ignore her new haircut.

“I hate wearing skirts.” Teyame replied, drinking some of her favourite juice.

“Rebel.” Ayda smiled. “What else are you going to do today, Tey?” She rolled the question over in her mind. What else could she do that would show people that she isn’t the person that she used to be? One thing crossed her mind. Something that she’s always wanted to do. Something that will hide the fact that she’s lying about being a Monk from her family. Something rebellious.

“Well, there’s one thing I’ve been planning. Her parents, four siblings, and grandmother looked at her grinning face. “I want to travel the land.” The table burst into volume, every member of her family either asking questions or protesting Teyame’s words. At the other end of the table, Ayra slammed her hands into the wood, silencing them all and standing up.

“All of you, let me speak.” Folding her hands behind her back, Arya started to walk around the table whilst speaking. “I can hear you all protesting, but this family has always has strong-willed children.” She stopped next to Teyame. “If you refrain a child from doing something, they will just go behind your back and do it anyway.”

“But mother, she’s only sixteen.” Renna shrank away at Arya’s glare.

“I have led all training exercises for these children.” She placed a hand on Teyame’s shoulder. “Your youngest is more than capable of undergoing such a journey. The most we can do is support her wishes.” Everybody knew that there was no way to go against the head of the family. Teyame, however, was beaming.

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#Writing #Against the Flow #I am so happy that I got this chapter done #fantasy

[yourprayer]

pop culture - chapter 2

“Adulthood in a town like Derry is even worse than childhood. The listless, empty ramblings of days dragging on in a town that felt like one-size-too-small-shoes sat heavier on the recently graduated than the younger children. Before you were eighteen and responsible for your own lunch money, you could spend your interminable afternoons exploring the surrounding environment, friends of friends abound. Escaping to the arcade and seeing the same films six times at the same theater was an acceptable amount of nothing to do at twelve years old. But when nineteen years hit Bill Denbrough and college acceptance letters didn’t, the sudden, overwhelming, nothingness of nowhere Maine became too heavy to bear.”

chapter 2 (wc: 4.3k)

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Filtered, fading, late summer sunlight drifted lazily through Bill’s bedroom window, landing lightly on Mike’s lap. He looked down at it; it stared back at him. He could feel the gentle heat seeping through his jeans, warming his thigh. He could feel his guilt creeping in, too.

All night Bill had been up worrying himself into a frenzy. The wear was clear on his face; and Stan’s, for that matter. And here was Mike, having slept perfectly soundly.

Could he be blamed for not worrying too much? Sure, Bill’s story had been frighteningly abnormal. But was he wrong in assuming it was only a result of Bill’s continued self-isolation? He had hardly been out at all since graduation. He rarely called, rarely joined in on group outings, rarely connected. Hell, Mike couldn’t remember the last time he and Bill had gone on a bike ride, just the two of them. It was no secret he was stressed over the weight of their impending adulthood. They all were. But Bill especially had been crumbling under the pressure. Mike had just thought… well, he didn’t know what he thought.

But it certainly hadn’t helped.

“... And you’re sure this wasn’t some kind of hallucination. You didn’t smell anything funny, or eat something you usually don’t-?” Bev was asking politely as Mike tuned back into the conversation.

“I’m s-sure.”

“Dude, someone could have slipped you drugs. It happens.” Richie chimed in from the floor, a little too hopefully.

“What the fuck Richie, nobody does that.” Eddie gave him a reproachful look.

“No it totally does, it happened to my cousin once. Someone put acid in his sandwich. He’s colorblind now because of it.”

“Rich, I don’t- wait, he’s fucking colorblind now?” Eddie turned to face Richie fully.

“Bad trips man, they fuck you up.” Richie shrugged. Bill was white.

“... Thanks for that, Richie, but I don’t think your story is helping.” Stan glared at Richie, both hands now on Bill’s shoulders to steady him.

“Continue, Bill.” Ben said quietly, the only one who hadn’t yet interrupted the countenance of Bill’s experience.

“A-a-anyways… After the s-sting and after I f-fell, it st-stayed like that for a minute or so… and th-then there w-w-w-” He gave up on the word with a sigh.

“You’re okay, keep going.” Stan reminded him calmly when it seemed like Bill would not try starting his sentence again.

“Th-there was another st-sting. And then it went away.”

Eddie gulped, then leaned in to Richie to whisper in his ear.

“I think that’s very much your level of weird.”

Richie was visibly shaken.

Mike wondered what the fuck that was about.

“Bev.” Ben said suddenly, coming out of his contemplation and preventing Mike from interrogating Eddie and Richie. “Do you think this has anything to do with what you told me?” He looked at her searchingly.

She thought for a moment, weighing her words.

“Possibly.”

Stan shot her an inquiring gaze. “What is he on about?”

“I had a vision today.” Bev said plainly.

“A vision.” Mike said from his chair behind her, his tone skeptic.

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “It’s never happened quite like this before, but… when I was a kid my family thought I was a prophet. I used to have these dreams, and-”

“A prophet?!” Richie leaned over Eddie, placing a hand on the other boys knee to steady himself, and looked at Bev incredulously. “What in the fuck does that mean?”

“Exactly what you think it means, Richie. I had prophetic dreams. It stopped happening after I was in like, middle school, but they used to be fairly frequent.”

“Did you have another one?” Stan asked before Richie could open his mouth again.

“Not while I was asleep.”

Silence fell, and Mike could feel his brow knitting together in skepticism. He tried to stop the thoughts kicking at his mind; everything in him was screaming to discredit all this nonsense. The things they were talking about were… impossible! As much as he loved his friends, he had to say it, they were-

No. Be more open.

“So you had a vision. And you know it was real.” Mike said, trying to keep his tone neutral and not accusatory. Bev nodded at him over her shoulder. “Okay, then, what was it of?”

“It was… well it was Bill’s hands, cupped, holding a bird.”

Mike blinked.

“What kind of bird?” Stan asked.

Richie snorted.

“Pfft, first thing he asks about a psychic fucking vision is the bird breed, whatta nerd-”

“Beep beep, Richie.” Came Eddie’s grumbled retort.

“I don’t know, like a finch or something. A small, brown one.”

Bill looked like he was gonna hurl.

“Hey, do you need some air?” Eddie placed a hand on Bill’s knee, immediately sensing his change in demeanor. Bill shook his head, but didn’t open his mouth.

“Bev and I tried to come up with some idea of what it meant, but, we couldn’t think of anything.” Ben continued when they all felt Bill wasn’t about to keel over.

“But you think it could have to do with Bill’s finger.” Mike sat back, crossing his arms.

“There’s a chance.” Ben supplied.

Richie had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the conversation, his few comments surprisingly far between. Mike had pretended not to notice, but now he could practically see the sweat on his brow. Richie was shifting uncomfortably, and Eddie was watching him like a hawk, concern written on his face. But there was something else there too…

“Around what time of day did this happen, Bev?” Eddie asked suddenly, surprising them all.

“Just after I got off work. About noon, twelve thirty?”

Eddie gave Richie a look. “And you, Bill?”

“A-around the same time…” Bill said quietly, locking eyes with Beverly.

“Rich.” Eddie said quietly, solemnly placing his hand over Richie’s on the floor. Richie swallowed, shakily raising a hand to fix his glasses.

“Okay, Richie. What the fuck is going on with you.” Both Richie and Eddie’s faces shot around, looking at Mike with wide eyes. “You’re wigged. Something to share?”

Stan, Ben and Bev all looked to the boys confused. Bill still looked visibly shaken by Beverly’s story. Eddie looked incredibly guilty, clearly fighting the urge to blurt something out. Richie gave Mike a strange look, almost like he was fighting back the fear bubbling to the surface of his emotions. The two boys looked at each other, Eddie raising a goading eyebrow. Richie shook his head acutely, shrugging and sitting back.

“Nothing to share Mike, my boy, I’m all aces.”

“No, you’re not Richie. Spill.” Stan glared at him. Richie stared back, challenging him.

Richie lost.

“Okay, okay.” He sighed, shifting his weight and settling with his legs crossed, leaning on Eddie. “Something happened to me yesterday too.”

“Same time of day?” Ben said, turning to face Richie better, leaning against the bedpost at the foot of Bill’s bed.

“Yeah.” Richie nodded.

“Do you want me to tell them?” Eddie asked, meeting Richie’s gaze.

“Go for it, spaghetti-o.” He said in a sullen tone.

Oh, this oughtta be good.

______________________________________________________________

By the time Richie had finished his story, Stan’s head was spinning. The new revelations of the afternoon had made him feel a little better about the absurdity of Bill’s situation, but it had only made him more worried about the group as a whole. Quite a few of them were experiencing strange phenomena, and all of them were freaked. Stan, for once in his life, was totally unsure of what to do. Usually he was the level-headed one, the best at taking initiative. But with this… he had no idea what to do.

“Wait, let’s- let’s think about this.” Mike started, standing up. “We have to go over our options. Would you say we should start with figuring out the cause, yeah?” There was a chorus of agreement.

Thank god for Mike.

“So Bill says he didn’t eat anything weird. But what about Richie and Bev?”

“I only had diner food. My usual.”

“I hadn’t eaten anything at that point.”

“You- did you have any food before you got to my house?” Eddie snapped.

“Uh, no?”

“Richie you went all day without eating?! You got to my house at like, midnight!”

“Relax Eds, I do this all time-”

“You do this all the time-!?”

“What about smells.” Mike interjected, giving Eddie an annoyed look. “Literally, anything out of the ordinary you can think of.”

“Other than my fucking ghost of breakfasts past experience you mean?” Richie quipped. “Maybe I had some bunk pancakes, maybe that's why my fucking stomach disappeared!”

Stan was a little shocked at the harshness of the comment. “We’re just trying to figure out what the fuck happened, you don’t have to be a dick about it.”

Richie looked at his lap ashamed. “Sorry.” He mumbled.

The group sat in silence, contemplating, a million thoughts racing through the stagnant air in Bill’s bedroom.

One of them, coagulating, dread filling the room as the light bulb clicked for each of them.

“You don’t think…” Bev said, looking up at Stan and Bill.

“Of course I think.” Stan said after a moment. “How could we be so stupid, of course its-”

“Wait wait wait, you guys aren’t serious, are you?” Mike sighed. “There’s no way-”

“Do you really think there’s any other explanation, Mike?” Ben rejoined.

Eddie and Richie shared a look that ended in the both of them groaning, Eddie resting his head in his hands.

“What? What’s wrong with you two?”

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of that.” Eddie muttered. “For hours we kept going over it, and it never crossed our minds.”

“Shoulda been the first thing that came up.” Richie flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

“Do you realize what you’re even insinuating here, guys?” Mike started pacing. “The idea that, well, that- had anything to do with this crazy shit? It’s un-fucking-believable.”

“And what else was it, huh? We all saw it, we all knew something was up, it has to be the reason!” Stan said, standing up. Bill glanced up at his back, almost whining at the loss of his friend (that he had been leaning heavily on) next to him.

“There’s got to be some kind of connection.” Ben stood as well, walking to the window. “I mean, I don’t know about you guys, but the memory is.. Kinda fuzzy for me. I can’t really think of the specifics of what happened but… that’s gotta be it.”

Bill looked down at his sheets. “I don’t really r-r-remember either.”

“So even if this thing did something to us, how the fuck does that work?” Eddie asked, stress clear on his face. Richie noticed and raised his hand to rub circles on the smaller boys back.

“Beats me.” Mike groaned. “But I seriously doubt it.”

“I think we should go back.” Bev said, determined.

“Are you insane?” Eddie looked over at her. “We should never go back!”

“Hey, why not, Eds.” Richie said, sitting up and putting an arm around Eddie. “It could help us find answers.”

“Well you can go without me.” Eddie pouted.

“Hell n-no.” Bill said firmly, his voice finally regaining a normal volume. “We have to go back together. A-all of us.”

“There’s no way I’m doing that!” Eddie shot up, pushing Richie away. “That thing gave me the fucking creeps and I don’t want to be near it again! If it’s- if it’s what did this then we should stay away from it! We’re lucky we didn’t die!”

“Eddie-”

“Don’t Eddie me, Bev! I’m serious, I’m not going!”

Silence fell.

Richie got up.

He and Eddie shared a look.

Eddie lost.

______________________________________________________________

Mike’s old Toyota trundled down the old gravel logging road, the radio playing softly over the slight breeze and the crunch of the tires. Bill had brought his dad’s favorite Blues Brothers cassette, and the opening notes of “B” Movie Boxcar Blues filled the cab of the truck. Bill sat center, between their trusty chauffeur and Stan, who maintained that riding in the back of a truck would be his cause of death someday. In the back, Richie and Eddie took the left side, while Ben and Bev huddled together under their picnic blanket. The picnic in question, a large woven basket taken from Mrs. Denbrough’s inexplicably large collection, filled with snacks and homemade sandwiches, sat in the bed of the truck between them. Bev and Richie were passing a cigarette back and forth across the space, and Eddie scowled everytime Richie got up to grab it from her, peeved at the loss of the heat. He was stupidly wearing only a thin grey cotton hoodie, and he was mourning his thicker coat still hanging up at home. When the cigarette was done, Richie settled in for the length of the ride against Eddie, resting a head on his shoulder and looping his arm through Eddie’s. He tried to ignore the heat in his cheeks. They were just chapped from the wind.

______________________________________________________________

“C’mon jackasses, I told you it’s just right around here!”

“Tozier, slow the fuck down, you’re gonna get yourself killed!”

“Relax, Staniel, I’m a professional.”

“Professional asshole.” Eddie mumbled, struggling to find a good grip.

“Professional rock climber first, professional asshole second.” He winked over his shoulder at Eddie, disappearing as he crested the bluff.

“What’s so important that we have to climb all the way up there?” Ben called from the back of the group, groaning at the ascent ahead of him.

“I don’t kn-know, we’ve lost him.” Bill called back, backpack hanging loosely off his shoulders and threatening to fall in Stan’s face.

“Just- keep going you guys.” Mike said through gritted teeth, hauling himself up where Richie had just vanished.

“I don’t even wanna see this dumb thing anyways.” Ben sighed, climbing up after Beverly, who was shyly giggling at Ben’s protests.

Richie’s curls popped out over the edge, followed by his stupid shit-eating grin, right in Eddie’s line of sight as he reached the top. Eddie shrieked and lost his grip, hands flailing as he started going backwards. Richie reached down and grabbed his wrists.

“Jesus Christ Eds, you should be more careful down there.”

“Oh fuck you, Tozier, you scared me!” Bill and Stan shared a bought of laughter below them. “It’s not funny, Denbrough!” Eddie glared down at them. They kept laughing anyway.

Richie proceeded to pull Eddie up over the edge. He had brought them to a grassy bluff, which stretched on to the edges of a forest, a good mile or so past them. The open field was beautiful. Eddie stared in wonder up at the open expanse of the night sky. It was a clear Saturday night; by now it had passed midnight and would count as early Sunday. He walked forward, pulling the sleeves of his sweater back down and shivering lightly. He was mesmerized, as the rest of the losers one by one climbed over the edge to join him, Mike, and Richie.

“Wow.” Beverly sighed, looking up at the sky. “This is a much better view than the quarry.

“Please tell me you didn’t drag us all the way up here for the view.” Stan glared at Richie, who was looking frantically around the clearing.

“No, Stan, I told you, I saw it land over here.” Richie responded distractedly. “It’s gotta be up here somewhere.”

“So to answer your question Stan, no, we came up here to chase Richie’s falling star.” Bev mocked, rolling her eyes as they all started to follow Richie, who had started trudging across the clearing.

“The one only he saw?” Mike laughed with her.

“Hey, I saw it too.” Eddie said defensively.

Bill and Stan shared a look. Bill shrugged. “I’ll a-a-admit it. I saw it t-too.”

“I think we would have felt it if something crash-landed this close to us, Rich.” Ben mumbled. “Besides-”

Everyone fell silent as they reached a downward curve in the clearing. As the plain tilted down towards the treeline, they came to a halt at the top of the hill.

Down where the grass plateaued into flatland and met the trees, was a deep, gaping hole in the earth, a blueish green light pulsating from its center.

“Holy shit.” About half of them muttered simultaneously.

“HA!” Richie turned to face the group from his end on the left. “I fucking told you!”

And then he promptly ran all the way down the fucking hill towards it.

“Richie, what the fuck?!” Eddie screeched after him, torn between fear and frustration, afraid to move. Bill and Mike quickly looked at each other before running down after Richie. Ben and Bev joined hands and followed down at a cautious walk, leaving Eddie and Stan at the top of the hill.

“God they’re so fucking- this is- this is stupid! We shouldn’t be going near that thing!”

“You’re preaching to the choir here, Eddie. No fucking way I’m going down there.”

“Guys! GUYS GET THE FUCK BACK UP HERE!”

“QUIT YOUR SCREECHING EDS! THIS THING’S FUCKIN LEGIT, GET DOWN HERE!”

“NO FUCKING WAY!” Eddie shook his head violently, his breathing growing quicker. “I’M STAYING RIGHT HERE!”

“SUIT YOURSELF, PUSSY!”

“Beep beep, Richie.” Mike shot him a look as they all formed a circle around the hole.

“Sorry, sorry, I just wish they’d come down here and look at this shit!”

“They’ll come when they’re ready.” Bev gave him a placating look.

“Bill, you got my camera in there?” Ben said, pointing towards the backpack.

“Yeah, h-here.” Bill shrugged off the bag and unzipped it, holding it out so Ben could pull out his portable film camera. He waved Bill and Bev to scoot back, then leaned forward over the pit and started snapping photos.

“This has gotta be the thing I saw. It’s a fuckin meteor or some shit.” Richie said excitedly.

“I’m sure Stan would know better, if he would come look at it.” Mike interjected. “Dude’s a science whiz.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s the presiding authority, Mike and Ike! I happen to know quite a lot about science myself.” Richie put his hands on his hips. “First rule of science; hypothesis. What’s ours, ladies and gents?”

“It’s a rock from space?” Beverly supplied.

“Yes, but you have to phrase it smart-like.” Richie snap-pointed in exuberance.

“This rock’s origin is unknown, but is definitely from somewhere beyond Earth.”

“That’s the ticket, Mike! Now, how do we prove it?”

“Guessing?” Bill snorted.

“No, dear Billiam! One word: experimentation.”

A devilish smile crept onto Richie’s face. Bill went white.

“No. R-Rich, no-”

“Tally-ho!”

And with that, Richie Tozier dove down the hole, feet first.

______________________________________________________________

Stan doesn’t think he’s ever heard Eddie Kaspbrak screech so loudly.

Or seen him run so fast.

“Richie! Richie, get out of there!” The other losers were crowded around the hole, calling down to Richie, who had disappeared completely into the darkness of the pit. Stan ran begrudgingly down to the group after Eddie, who vaulted past the others and practically catapulted himself into the hole after Richie.

“Eddie, no!” Ben called, gaping at him as he watched the smaller boy descend.

“Christ guys, get out of there!” Mike yelled, leaning his face down into the hole. “Jesus, I can’t see shit-”

“Do you have a flashlight in there?” Bev said, gesturing at Bill’s bag.

“It m-might not have battery life, b-but yeah.” Bill pulled an old flashlight of his dad’s out of his bag. It took a few smacks to get it to turn on, but once the beam shined true he handed it over to Mike, who resumed his inspection of the hole.

“I can’t see them at all.” Mike grumbled. “It goes on for awhile.”

“I’m going in.” Ben said, handing his camera to Bev.

“No, no way. We just need to get them to climb back out.” Bev said, gripping his hands.

“Richie! Ed! Come on, get out of there!” Mike called down the hole. No response.

“Guys, seriously, what if they’re stuck down there-” Ben protested.

“RICHARD TOZIER! EDWARD KASPBRAK! GET YOUR ASSES BACK UP HERE!” Mike bellowed, before scrambling back from the hole in surprise.

“Jesus, Michael, no need to get formal on us.” Richie smiled up at him as he climbed up out of the pit. “We found something.”

“For fuck’s sake Tozier, you scared the shit out of us.” Ben breathed, relief coursing through him. “Where’s Eddie?”

“I’m here!” Came Eddie’s muffled voice, and his left hand reaching up out of the hole next to Richie. Richie moved out of the way and reached down to pull Eddie out, which resulted in the two of them tumbling over and landing side by side on the ground, Eddie on his stomach.

“We found something.” He declared into the grass.

“So we’ve been told.” Bev raised an eyebrow.

“Look at this.” Richie said in a hushed tone, pulling something from his pocket as Mike helped Eddie to his feet. Richie stood, object in hand, as they all crowded round to see.

In the palm of Richie’s hand sat a rock of some kind, no bigger than a baseball, that was glowing.

The center was a pulsating blue, the greenish hues more visible the closer to the edges the light got. It was rough and crystalline in form, with bits of black and rough particles mixed in around it. The light was low and flickering, much darker than what had been visible from the top of the hill. Beverly gasped in awe, immediately reaching out to take it in her own hands.

“Wow.” She breathed, in awe of the sight. Ben immediately leveled his camera to take a picture. (Multiple. Certainly because of the cool space rock. Totally not because of Beverly’s beautiful expression.)

“What the fuck is that…” Stan pondered quietly, as he and Bill went to take the stone from Bev. They each used a hand to hold both ends, examining the underneath as they raised it above their heads. They passed it to Mike, looking at each other in confusion.

“Is it… getting brighter?” Mike pondered as he held the stone in one hand.

“Sort of looks like it is.” Ben said, repositioning Mike’s hand so he could get a better picture of the stone before taking it in his hand himself. “It feels kind of warm.” He took another shot of it in his palm.

“It wasn’t warm when we picked it up-” Eddie grabbed the stone from Ben, holding it level with his face so he could inspect it closely. He suddenly hissed in pain and dropped it. “Ow, fuck!”

The dew-covered grass where the stone landed began to sizzle. “Whoa, Eddie, you okay?” Richie grabbed at Eddie’s hand, inspecting it for a burn mark.

“That thing fucking burned me!”

The light from the stone grew brighter.

“Uh, guys?”

“You don’t have a mark-”

The hue grew more green, a deep, true green.

“Guys!”

“I think I know when I’ve been burned, Richie-”

“Guys, move!”

And then, there was light.

______________________________________________________________

Bill shook his head as he sat up, grass and dirt clinging to his cheek. To his left was a disgruntled Stan, face down in the grass as he tried to push himself up with his arms.

Across the field, about twenty yards away from him was Beverly. She wasn’t stirring. Beyond her, a few more yards to her left, was Ben, who was hoisting himself into a kneeling position.

Bill turned the other way to see Mike, closer by. He was groaning, and pretty soon Bev’s disdain joined his. Beyond Mike, nearly fifty yards away, Richie was shaking a limp form.

Oh god.

Bill was on his feet as quickly as possible, but hadn’t accounted for the effect the shock would have on his body. He went down almost immediately, bile rising in his stomach as he landed on all fours.

“Eddie! Eddie!” Richie’s frantic shouts started to float across the expanse, each of the others realizing what was going on and attempting to stumble their way over to the two boys.

Bill went directly past the pit as he made his way to the others. He passed the charred spot in the grass where the stone had landed.

It was gone.

“Eddie!” Richie was growing more and more frantic, the panic clear on his face when Mike reached them first.

“Rich, Rich, let go, give him some air.” Mike said calmly as he tried to lay Eddie out flat.

“Why won’t he wake up?!”

“Hey, hey, he’s been knocked pretty hard, okay? It’s gonna take him a minute, shaking him won’t help.” Richie took a shuddering breath, but hesitantly nodded.

Bill and Stan came running over, before kneeling down on either side of Richie. Bev and Ben stood behind them when they arrived, looking down at Eddie’s quiet form with worry.

“Eddie, hey, time to wake up now.” Mike said in a gentle tone, lightly tapping Eddie’s face. A small trail of blood started running out of Eddie’s nose.

Richie lost his shit.

“Eds- Eds, oh my god, look at his nose!” He cried, reaching out to wipe the blood away and shake his face.

“Richie! Be careful with him, he could have a concussion!” Mike yelled, trying to pull Richie’s hands away. The scuffle jostled Eddie more, but the boy still didn’t stir. When Mike was finally able to pull Richie away, and Stan and Bill got ahold of his hands to keep him from reaching out again, they heard a small intake of breath.

“What th-... what the fuck?”

“Eddie!”

Richie lost his handlers and immediately scooped the smaller boy into his arms. “Jesus fucking Christ Eds, you scared the shit out of me.”

“What the fuck happened?” He muttered, rubbing a sore spot on his head.

“That thing fucking exploded.” Stan said plainly. “Right over-” He trailed off as they all turned to look at where the stone had dropped, and they saw nothing but an empty field.

authors notes: here’s a good old flashback sequence for yall!!! i hope maybe soon any questions you have will start to get answered <3 again, a huge thanks to my lovely beta and bff @richiefreakingtozier, the goddess that is sara (follow her u dingnuts!!!) please give a like or a reblog if u enjoyed!!!!

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