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#my writing

Of Queries and Quarantines Chapter 2

Rating: E



POTTER.JF: Because you’re the one currently doing the job, so it makes sense that you’d be the one to train the person hired to take your place.

LUPIN.RJ: No, I mean why is Monty hiring a new editor in the middle of a fucking pandemic?

POTTER.JF: An old friend of mine is in a tough spot and needs a job, so of course, dad is helping him out.

- - - -


A story set in the middle of the pandemic in which Sirius is hired at the Potter’s publishing company and Remus is responsible for training him. Lots of texting, lots of video calls, lots of mutual pining, and a lot of really bad literature quotes.

Total Word Count: 50k+

Read on AO3.

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Some days are harder then others.

Memories that demand to be spoken, sensations desperately pushing up from underneath his skin, echoes of excruciating longing and heartache threatening to burst behind his eyes and settle into an addictive agony.

The sweet taste of blood blooming onto his tongue underneath the ominous sound of his bones splintering and grinding from a torturous ache. Betrayal mixing into the distant, distressed sound from his own silent throat to the rapid tempo of his heart freezing to the ghosts before him.

Off-colored, warped memories breathing and taking life, standing shakily in loose-fitting skin and hunted eyes that gleam of tales and tragedies dragged out unwillingly. A muffled scream in an impenetrable dark night covered by numb, blue lips, the stifling smell of death and fear souring childlike laughter ringing in the silence. The vision of a predator digging viciously into the soft, tender skin of prey, crimson red spilling in fearful pulses with each pitiful twitch. Predators watching with similarly bloodied claws, jaws closed so they might kill themselves on grief where countless others have failed.

Some days are harder then others.

Other days Tony drags his eyes from the cowering ground; frenized, silent whispering prayers and knees soaked in the blood watering its roots. Eyes cast downward from the sweet, bloodied scent filling the rich earth inbetween clasped palms and mumbled pleas, cries quiet to no others ears. Looks up beyond the cruel, mismatched faces grafted from sadistic pleasure and cool apathy as a siren song of sacrifice slips from their many tongues. Below the empire built off of nothing, and looks into the beaten, pitiful eyes of predators desperately clawing at their own jaws full of teeth.

Tony, you said that your world is very different then ours right?”

Think of it like an old memory you can quite place but can recall the details, different, but similar in the way that matters.”

What about the avengers? What are they?”

“…A group of people that I’ll have to introduce you to one day.”

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“How do you feel about this one?” You step out of the closet and twirl around, layers of lavender chiffon frills spinning out around you. Truth be told, it’s a pretty ugly dress, but you were going through a frilly phase when you bought it for your friend’s sweet sixteen years ago.

You weren’t exactly thrilled when you were first enlisted to chaperone your little sister’s prom, but when the organizer said you could bring your own “date” and your boyfriend told you he was free that night, your attitude had changed tremendously. Of course, neither of you had plans to go clothes shopping just to watch a bunch of awkward high schoolers sway back and forth, which is how you ended up digging through your closet for old, theme-appropriate clothes.

“Hmm…” Yeonjun looks up from his phone and surveys your appearance, the exaggerated expression of an appraiser on his face. “I think… you look like a loofah.”

“Hey!” You stop twirling and put your hands on your hips. “That was so uncalled for!”

“A sexy loofah!” He quickly reassures you, sitting up on your bed. He flashes you a charming smile, his voice laced with honey. “I’d dress up as a bottle of bodywash if it meant I get to be by your side.”

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The Shelter Chapter 31 It Isn’t Easy, Is It?

He watches him watching her. She was studying, her brow creased in concentration. Jamie was to be doing the same but he was spending more time studying her. John adjusts a sleeping Fergus as he glances covertly at Jamie. William focuses on his homework.

“Daddy, is this right?” He turns to his son and checks the math problem. Jamie turns at William’s question. He watches a blushing John dropping his head. Claire studies on unaware of the interplay between the men.

“Is he right?” Jamie asks.

“Yes.” Flushing more, he turns to his son,” Perfectly right. Continue on. “ he gives him a smile. Jamie turns back to his own book.

A bit later, Claire showers and Jamie sits in the living room waiting for her when he is joined by John.

“The bairns asleep?”

“Yes. Look Jamie, I don’t want it to be weird between us. You choose well. You two are perfect together.”

“Thank you. We are.”

“But it is hard, isn’t it?”

He looks at him with his head crooked. “What is?”

“Not being able to be fully together. Even I can feel the sexual tension between you two.”

“Oh yah. That is very rough. I know now, you see, how incredible we our together. To not be is, quite rough.”

“Then why don’t you take her to Lallybroch? It sounds like your sister would welcome you.”

“She would. Claire and I,” and how his eyes alight at that phrase. “discussed it. We decided that we want to return when we have something to offer. Not holding our hands out. So we..” Claire walks out and he loses his train of thought. John watches the awe cross his face as she joins him, stepping into the arms he has open for her. He kisses her softly and sighs with contentment. “Hi baby.”

“Hi love. Hi John.”

“Claire.” He nods towards her.

“What was you two discussing?”

“Oh right. I was telling John what we have decided about Lallybroch.” She snuggles into his side as he turns back to his mate. “What was I saying? Oh right. I am going to get a job as soon as I finish upper school education. Claire after she gets her lab tech certificate. When we have saved enough to not feel a burden, we will go to Lallybroch, probably stay there while working and completing our education.”

“Logical. So you will be leaving in..”

“About three of four months. I wrote Jenny about our plan.”

“I expect she will insist we come down right away from what I know of her.” Claire says with a laugh.

“I expect you are right mo ghaol.” He nuzzles into her hair. She sighs and relaxes farther. “But I am just as stubborn. We will win this argument.”

“I’ve no doubt.”

“Well I need to check on the boys so I will wish you a good night.” John says.

“Aye. Good night John.”

“Good night.” Claire echoes.

He walks away and Claire watches him with sad eyes. “What is it mo charaid?”

“He still loves you. It is sad to see him pining for the unattainable.”

“I know. I can’t give him what he wants. I do give him my friendship. It is all I can give.”

“Yes. Well maybe he will meet someone who is available.”

“We will pray so.” He lowers his head and breathes her in. They just hold each other, content to just be together.

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You are the fearsome ruler of a rather large forest. Said to be cunning and ruthless, with a terribly monstrous appearance, people of many lands fear you. Some of the rumors are false. Well, one or two. But it is enough to keep people away, giving you the peace and quiet you want.

But one night, when the moon is full and the dawn is not far off, you hear someone knocking at your door. Startled that anyone even had the courage to approach your castle, you hesitantly go to the door.

On your doorstep is a young woman. Her dress is muddy and torn, dirty streaks marking her cheeks where she had been crying. But despite her apparent fear, she held herself with dignity.

“Forgive me for intruding at such a late hour,” she greets you, her voice shaking in fear. “Might I trouble you for a night’s stay?”

Upon accepting, you quickly discover two things: one, she came from the nearest town, likely the daughter of a nobleman that, by some terrible mistake, got lost in your forest.

Two, you aren’t the one she is afraid of.

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TW- Customers xenophobic ramblings

Callum came in, on the late shift. The pass two weeks have not been good on Martin, “Come here Callum I need to speak to you” calls out Jason.

“What have I done now Jason?’ asks Callum, Jason messing around with the timetables on the computer. Callum waves his hand in front of Jason’s face to get his attention “What do you want Jason?”

Jason took out a splitter for headsets, handing it to Callum saying “I want you to listen in with Martin to help him if you can for me lad.”

Callum looks down at the splitter asks “So how long do I get off for this?”

Jason does a few clicks at the computer saying “Till 4:30 when he heads off, I need you to make sure he is staying compliant and to help him with any query regarding where to go.”

Callum nods but points out “Surely the whole helping with queries is what a tl is there for Jason.”

Jason retorts “I got a lot of compliance and complaint marking to do, surely it is stupid to ask so many questions when I’m getting you off the phone lad.”

Callum turns away replying “Fair point I’ll sign myself in and put myself on 7 for personal development.” There was no answer back from Jason.

“What’s up with him” queries Connor just off a call. Callum with a smile starts signing into his computer replies “I’m getting off the phone to help Marty with a few of his calls.”

Connor takes a hateful glance at Jason, who doesn’t notice before he says to Callum “Lucky eejit you are, he didn’t ask me or anyone else to do anything.”

Signing into his phone and call system Callum quips back “The benefits of keeping your nose clean and not annoying management too much.”

Connor chuckles answering back “Not worth it lad, would ruin the job for me not giving them hell.”

Callum pats him on the shoulder saying “Someone’s gotta do it.”

Connor laughs aloud and replies “Aye unfortunately it’s me, here I got a call talk to you after it and be nice to Marty.”

Callum heads down to Martin who is struggling at a call he is on. Callum pulls one on the free seats from the bay up beside him and sits beside him quiet.

“No sir I don’t mean to have it assumed that your using too much I am only stating that what you are paying is not covering your usage. There is a chance it could lead to a debit.” Martin tries to explain over the phone.

There’s a silence and then Martin sighs, grumbling “Fine hang up on me then won’t stop you owing £200.”

Keep reading

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Sneak peek:

“Let me ask you something,” Eddie says, nuzzling his cheek again; Buck could get used to this, how Eddie can’t stop showering him with affection. Though of late, how is that different to any other day? “Every time we do anything with the crew; when was the last time we got invited to anything separately?”

“We are friends. Why wouldn’t they invite us together?”

“Well, obviously, but it’s always more than that. Like, we’re invited as a unit. A team. No, not a team; a couple. Because we are,” Eddie says, laughing in exasperation. “Are you telling me you’d let any random friend sleep in your bed, massage your leg, buy a whole house with you? Treat their kid like your own son?”

“I might,” Buck tells him, even if the answer is a clear no. He knows there are friendships out there like that, of course, but that’s not what this is. That’s not how he is. “So, you’re telling me, that you were happy for us to be together, how you thought we were, but not—that there wasn’t anything else between us? Like, you know. Physically?" 

Feels Like Home

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   I have gotten inspired by @foreverinvideos​ and decided to write my own Devilgram stories, starting with my OC, Oliver.

!!MC is gender-neutral!!


Oliver [SSR]: “Shall We Dance?”

   The locked image is one of Oliver with a second party (Asmodeus) looking through what looked to be tuxedos of various colors for what seemed to be an undisclosed event; the unlocked image was of Oliver wearing one of the suits that was previously seen in the locked image (a black suit with a white undershirt and a dark red tie), holding his hand out to the viewer with a gentle look to his violet eyes, as if asking the viewer for a dance.

The Devilgram story:

   The first part of the story was Oliver visiting MC at the House of Lamentation, the two humans helping each other with the upcoming test at the common room until the topic of dancing came up with Asmo asking them if either one knows how to dance. While MC can say whether they can dance or not [Oliver would be surprised but intrigued if MC were to say yes], Oliver admitted that he has some experience in the Viennese Waltz, which surprised the Avatar of Lust as he asks him if he can show them.

   The second part shows Oliver and MC doing the Viennese Waltz, though it proved to be difficult as to Asmo pointing out that Oliver was moving too fast for MC to catch up, which the latter mentioned that the Viennese Waltz is technically a fast-moving dance and when asked about the turning the young man answered that it’s a part of the waltz as well. If MC were to apologize for messing up Oliver would console, and in the end would help teach them how to learn the dance.

   The third part shows that progress has been made and Oliver praised MC for being a fast learner, even Asmo applauded as to how lovely the two of them were- commenting how you two were like a cute fairy tale couple. Oliver blushed from the compliment and saying how he’s still fairly new to the waltz himself and was only to dance out of memory; if MC were to praise him for that Oliver would hide his face and blush more as he thanked them. Asmo would suggest being the one to find him and MC outfits for whenever the next big event comes up to which albeit surprised neither one said no.

   The final part shows Oliver and MC taking a break from dancing as Oliver asked them how their first experience with waltzing went, depending on how MC responded Oliver would still compliment how well they did. Oliver admitted to MC that he was rather nervous about messing up but thanks to them it made him feel a little more calm and confident and thanked them with an earnest smile. [Kiss option: Yes] If MC were to kiss Oliver he would be taken aback but would blush and chuckle as he joked about how MC caught him by surprised and should give him a little warning next time; in truth he wanted to kiss MC first but didn’t want to make them feel uncomfortable and that Asmo would never let him hear the end of it.

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For @flashfictionfridayofficial‘s prompt ‘Wild and Free’. CW: death

Word count: 617

Cold trees blocked my way; hard and dead, they stood close together and did not bow for me when I pushed them. I paced the perimeter - first one way, then the other. It was as though they had grown around me as I slept, and I could not find from where I entered. They would not bow for me, and my claws left no mark upon them but the ringing in the air and the buzz through my body. 

    Upon the ground, the trees joined to one long root: it did not lie beneath the ground, but rested upon it. Had they ever lived or taken life from the earth? I could not dig the ground to slip beneath, like scaled prey might, and neither could I ride the air.


    A bird alighted and laughed at my suffering; when I roared for them to leave they obeyed, and I roared again for them to return. They didn’t. It’s rare that I wish for company, but I yearned then for the warmth of mother’s fur.

    The light had begun to fade and my throat grown tired by the time I heard the rustling of bushes and breaking branches. They came on two paws, mewling incomprehensibly: a prey creature more powerless than a cub, spindly legged and without claws or fangs to bare at foes. A second skin hung from them like the tattered hides of a kill, thin and weak, and they used their forelegs to hold branches of the dead wood that surrounded me. 

    Two of these creatures approached. They did not falter or flee, nor bare fangs and claws, or hide and shrink from my gaze. Still mewling to the others, one touched the cold trees. I pounced upon them, but they pulled back and I struck the cold tree instead. Another raised their branch, and a blast of thunder rang out without a drop of rain. Again, and I recoiled with the pain in my ears. When the branch was turned to me, I felt the power of this creature’s fangs; fangs it did not own, but bore nonetheless. I bore my own, but kept my distance.

    The other approached again as before. Then, swift as they appeared, the cold trees spun out to leave a space through which I might exit. In that space, the strange creature threatened thunder with still bared fangs, and the other dragged something closer. The copper tang of life and change, of food, came to me. I had not eaten in many nights, and my mouth called for it. It dragged the body closer, and I tensed to fight. 

    When the creature ran back, the food would be mine. I saw, too, the cold trees returning again. They could not return. I would not be bound.

    I risked the thunder and turned my claws upon the strange thing with the sharp fang; the thunder did not come, and the fang burned cold in my mouth. It tasted of lifeless blood, and I spat it to the ground and pinned its bearer. It broke easily, as fragile as it looked without the fangs it held so precariously; it did not fight for long. Neither did the hunter, who stumbled and slid through the leaves until I caught it. The other two had long gone, but my belly would be filled without them. 

    When I’d taken my fill, I left the rest for the others of the forest. I slipped between the living trees, warm and obedient to my claws like they should be. Equilibrium restored. 

    I would not trust the fragile creatures that come on two paws, roar with thunder and control the cold trees. They would fear to enter my world again.

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My Stories 16 #TW Addiction

So today I decided I would have a story time about this topic. This wasn’t a topic I was planning to discuss; but I’m doing it purely for my own selfish reason. An I suppose I’m hesitating on this because the one thing I hate doing is admitting I have a problem. I have a problem. I have a few problems lol. It’s been an issue that was going to hit me at some point. It was a long time coming. Trauma works in funny ways I think. Been going on for 21 years, denial plus crazy life circumstances going on for 1.5 years (which weren’t helpful) and now here I am trying to fix issues that I’ve had for 24 years. I don’t want to pretend I’m okay when I’m not on here. I’m admitting that I’m struggling because I think it will help me over come my issues by admitting it to others. Thus the selfish reason why I’m talking about this.

How I used to deal with my problems never benefited me, only hurt me. An I’m trying to stop it and fight it because ultimately I want to have healthy relationships with others and empower myself. Be kind to myself and love myself without anyone else. That’s why this addiction started because I didn’t do those things and therefore didn’t have great relationships with a lot of people. More specifically started when I was 9, because I felt like I couldn’t talk to anyone else because I didn’t feel understood. Even though people knew what was going on, I had trouble communicating it. So I’d repress it. Now I only do this whenever I’m going through emotional pain or I’m extremely stressed. So I didn’t do this all the time but it got bad enough to where I looked in the mirror and I literally couldn’t recognize myself physically and mentally. I felt like a different person. I wasn’t my that-girl-in-glasses self. By that time I was going through a really bad low point in my life. 

So now I’m trying to change so I can be the person that I want to be for myself. I have help for all of it. However just like any addiction I definitely have the occasional with drawl symptom. A big one is having random melt downs for God I wish what the reason was. Nothing could be going wrong and I’d still have a meltdown. An I do various things to handle those meltdowns without going straight into my addictive patterns. An that is REALLY HARD. So it makes me feel even worse. How am I trying to handle these meltdowns? I’ll write, I’ll work out, I’ll say a bunch of positive sayings to myself until I believe it, or I’ll talk to people. I don’t always talk to people about the melt down specifically; but I’ll talk about absolutely anything (even if it makes zero sense to the other person lol) until I feel better and calm down. An yesterday and last night I did all of those things and it still didn’t work. I didn’t give into my addiction; but it was hell for me last night. All I could do was stare at the ceiling hoping my tears would tire me enough to sleep. Which I hate doing but that was my only option at 1am - 2am. It’s a very helpless feeling to me which I also equally hate. 

I talk about this because I’m more likely going to be writing about various things to help me cope and move forward. Some of it will be positive/empowering and of course that’ll help me stay motivated and hopeful. However some of it may not be so great, might be dark/sad. Some of my writing gets dark, some not so much. I’m just admitting that I have some problems, and I’m constantly working on them so I don’t regress to old habits. This isn’t easy. I’m beyond thankful to have so many people in my life not see me as my addiction or my problems and choose to remind me that they look past all of my mess and see me as more. They choose to see me as a person who’s easy to love. I know this is a tough climb that’s hard to watch; but I know I’ll fight this and I know I’ll end up stronger than ever. I know I can do this, that I’m 100% confident about at least. 

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I really love Victoria and Charles, I think they are my favourites from the ballet au. So this doesn’t made them justice, I’m sorry for it.
Also, I don’t know anything about reactions, chemistry and so (I always failed that subject because I don’t like it), so… Sorry if I made any mistake :3
Hope you like it :3

“You’re doing it wrong. Again!”

“Shut up! Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?”

“I’m your lab partner.”

“No, you are the idiot of my little brother who has been left without a lab partner, making the teacher punish me with teaming up with you,” Victoria replied, finishing her hair. She had braided her hair so that it wouldn’t spread over her face. Her brother, of course, didn’t understand.

Charles snorted in annoyance and took the flask from her, looking at the different powdered compounds they had to put in and the massive amount of sodium that his idiot sister had put into it.

“It’s going to explode.”

“What?! Of course not! I’ve done this thousands of times with Akiko, nothing will happen.”

Charles’s eyes looked at his sister. Akiko was their best friend and Charles’s crush for as long as he could remember (that is, for twelve years), but she was also the smartest of the three. At least in academic matters. She was great at chemistry and so and every experiment they did used to be with her. Well, Victoria did them with her, because Charles was placed with Kuniaki and honestly, he always did most of the work.

But, neither Kuniaki nor Akiko were there to help them. The first was in a competition and the second was ill. So both brothers had to work together… If they didn’t kill each other before.

Victoria picked up the scale and put the watch glass on it before turning it on.

“Pass me the potassium.”

“It doesn’t put any potassium in the chemical reaction.”

“Charles. Pass. Me. The. Potassium. NOW.”


“YOU ATOBES! CAN YOU REMAIN SILENT ?! THIS IS A CLASS, NOT THE PLAYGROUND!” The teacher yelled at both of them, causing them both to shut up at the same time.

From time to time they exchanged glances to see who could be more angry, but Victoria always ended up winning. Always. Charles didn’t know how she did it.
So she added potassium. Twenty milligrams of potassium mixed with whatever it was that she would have added of sodium. Afterwards, she added some blue liquid coloring to make it look the same as the teacher’s and put it to heat with a liquid solution that Charles wasn’t familiar with.

“See how it’s not going to explode?” Victoria’s tingly, knowing tone almost made her being nearly choked her. Almost.

“Whatever,” Charles replied angrily.

“Okay, give me 0.5 mg of boron,” she replied without looking at him, putting on her goggles better.

Charles handed her the required amount of boron and turned his head. Of course, that day could only go from bad to worse. He never thought he could miss Kuniaki.

“Pass me the flask with the clear liquid.”

But, without any of them realizing it, Charles gave her the flask that had water in it instead of the other solution, and when Victoria poured it in, it began to grow thanks to the heat and contact with the previous solution dangerously.


“Get down! This is going to explode!” Charles yelled, pulling his sister under the table.

And indeed, that solution exploded in the middle of the class, causing the screams and panic of his classmates and teacher. The responsible adult walked over to them, turned off the lighter, and glared at them.

“You have spilled water, right?” She asked with a frown before both boys pointed at each other. “You two go to the study room right now. You are punished!”

As Victoria and Charles packed up their things and left class, the boy turned to her sister.

“Now what?” She was upset, and he loved it because it made her already perfect face transform into the one of a harpy.

“I told you,” Charles replied with a smile, even though he knew they were going to receive a monumental punishment.

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Cecily was, quite frankly, extremely annoyed. It had been almost a year since Gabriel had begun “officially” courting her (she did not believe in all of this “courting” nonsense- her idea of romance was that you loved whom you loved, and you married them), and yet there was no sign of a proposal.

Everyone had come around to the idea of the both of them being in love (evem Will, though she did notice him glowering at Gabriel at times, then cursing under his breath). And Cyril had even started calling her Mrs. Lightwood (which she had, of course, immediately corrected, then glanced sideways at Gabriel to see if he had gotten the hint. He had not.) Point was, it had been years since she had met him, and there was no sign of a proposal coming. She was eighteen now. It was time.

Which was why she was taking matters into her own hands. Cecily despised waiting, even if it was for the love of her life.

“Will you marry me?” She shot out the minute their carriage had left the Institute. Gabriel looked taken aback for a moment, then his face settled into an expression which was the cross of bewilderment and pure, cold shock.

“I-ehm-uh-what?” She rolled her eyes in annoyance, then proceeded to give him an extremely irritated look.

“Well, it wasn’t as if you were planning to propose anytime soon,” she said dryly. His face flushed, and he looked down in what might have been shame, but could also have been embarrassment. “It’s all right,” she announced theatrically (Will would have been proud. Well, considering the situation, he probably wouldn’t.), “I forgive you. But,” she added with a wicked grin, “You must now compose a grand and romantic speech in my honor.”

Poor Gabriel was still staring at her. “Hello?” she said, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “I want a romantic speech in my honor.”

He seemed to regather at least a few of his senses. “Well, uhm.” He took a deep breath, and looked at her, his green eyes completely fixated on her. “Cecily, I have loved you almost since I first saw you. You are the love of my life, and the bravest woman I have ever met. Every time that I see you, I am reminded how lucky I am to be the recipient of your love. I would have liked to compose a poem in your honor, but since I am a terrible poet, that would not have been the wisest idea. Would you do me the highest honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”

Secretly, Cecily would have liked it to be a little bit longer (she had high expectations). She grinned at him. “I would give it a five for effort, though, I hope with practice, you will get better.”

His lips quirked amusedly. “Then perhaps we do something I am practiced at?” With that, he reached up to tangle his fingers into her hair, and kissed her in such a manner that she forgot how pathetic his attempt at a romantic speech was.

*dedicated to @cecilyfightwood for the prompt*

*tagging @jesseblackthorns; maybe you’d like to read this?*

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Chapter 32: The roller rink & the jukebox

Read it on Ao3

by ghostnebula (ryuutora)

He thinks about (and scares himself, for a second, with the potency of it) the way it feels when Richie drapes himself over him when they’re gathered at the quarry or the clubhouse. The way his chin rests on the top of Eddie’s head and his chest presses to his back and his stupid bony arms cross in front of him to hold him in place even though they both know Eddie isn’t going anywhere. How he wouldn’t give up that kind of contact with Richie for the world.

The security of it.

And how hadn’t he realized before?


The story of the Lucky Seven and their terrible luck, a Turtle who doesn’t quite understand humans, accidental telepathy, and Eddie Kaspbrak’s many, many life struggles – in the style of them all growing up, a little bit at a time, and what that entails.


Chapter 32:

The Losers’ Club and their roller rink jukebox shenanigans, feat. Eddie’s dire inability to recognize his mother’s treatment of him as abuse, and an unhealthy fear of spending time with his friends, which they’re all collectively hoping to fix.


Words (total): 137,857 | Chapters: 32/45 | Pairing: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier | Rating: M | Warnings (overall): child abuse, conversion therapy techniques, homophobia, poisoning, manipulation, panic attacks, Sonia Kaspbrak

Read it on Ao3

Tag list:

@richietoaster @that-weird-girls-blog @mikeuris @bellarosewrites @s-s-georgie @cupcakeefrosting @madi-main @gazebobullshit @thoughtfullyyoungduck @tozierking @sluttheory

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